The return journey lasted three long and excruciating days.
The mountain was unforgiving to the weak, and the blizzard seemed to have redoubled its fury, as if nature itself were enraged by the group's audacity in challenging its icy domains.
For William, the physical exhaustion had diminished considerably thanks to his body's endurance, but his mind remained a battlefield.
Lightning, with her youth and indomitable spirit, frequently used her magic to float above the thickest snow, saving energy and serving as a scout.
Diana Argus, on the other hand, needed constant support, not being accustomed to such rigorous travel. Nightingale stood firm, guiding the group with the precision of an experienced hunter.
It was only on the night of the third day that the relentless darkness of winter was finally pierced by warm, flickering points of light on the horizon.
They were the torches and campfires of Border Town's walls.
When they reached the outer gates of the castle, the wind no longer felt so biting.
The relief of stepping onto paved ground was almost indescribable for Diana and Lightning.
Nightingale, always cautious about the reception of strangers—especially guards—activated her magic and dove into the Mist, becoming completely invisible even before they approached the sentries.
— "Halt! Identify yourselves!" — a guard's harsh voice cut through the night, accompanied by the metallic sound of crossing spears.
William took a step forward, raising his hands to the nearest torchlight, pulling back his ice-covered hood.
— "It's me, William," — he said, his voice hoarse from the cold.
The two guards, Bjorn and Hakon, who were on duty that night, squinted into the darkness. Upon recognizing the face of His Highness's trusted man, they immediately relaxed their posture.
— "By god, Commander William! You look like you fought an ice bear with your bare hands," — Bjorn commented, lowering his spear and letting out a relieved laugh. — "Minister Barov was about to tear out what little hair he has left because of your delay."
Hakon, however, did not laugh. His eyes shifted from William to the two huddled female figures standing just behind him. Both wore tattered clothes and were shivering badly.
— "And who are these women with you?" — Hakon asked, the natural suspicion of a border guard returning to his tone of voice.
William did not hesitate. He knew that hiding the truth would only generate more unnecessary questions, and the Prince's orders were clear.
— "They are witches," — William revealed, his tone serious and direct.
Bjorn gasped, and Hakon instinctively widened his eyes. The fear of the Church and the legends still ran strong in the blood of ordinary men, but they could not go against the Prince's rules.
— "Witches..." — Bjorn whispered, looking around as if he feared an inquisitor would jump from the shadows.
— "Yes. His Highness, Prince Roland, personally ordered me to fetch them on my mission," — William added, hardening his gaze to ensure there were no objections. — "They are under his direct protection; any problem with that?"
Hakon swallowed hard and quickly shook his head.
— "N-no. No objections; if they are His Highness's orders, who are we to question? You may enter, and welcome... Ladies."
The heavy wooden doors were opened with a dragging creak, allowing the group to finally enter the warmth of the castle's inner courtyard.
The news of the return didn't take long to spread through the corridors.
Barov, the Assistant Minister, was reviewing some scrolls in the records room when a panting servant brought him the information.
He hastily adjusted his robes and marched down the stone corridors to Prince Roland's office. Upon entering, he gave a hurried bow.
— "Your Highness! Guard William has just returned from that... Short trip of his."
Roland looked up from the blueprints on his desk, a genuine smile illuminating his face.
— "Excellent news, Barov! And did he return alone?"
— "No, Your Highness. He is waiting in the main hall, and he brought two women in rags with him. He... He claims they are the witches you requested."
Roland leapt to his feet, excitement evident.
— "Perfect! Barov, order the kitchen to prepare a banquet immediately. Bring roasted meats, hot soup, fresh bread, and quality ale. I want them to be received as guests of honor!"
— "A banquet? Now? For... Them?" — Barov hesitated, his economic and prejudiced side fighting internally.
— "That is what I said, Barov. And please, go to Anna's quarters and tell her and Arthur that William and Nightingale have finally returned."
Barov sighed, bowing again.
— "As you wish, Your Highness."
.
.
.
Minutes later, Barov walked hurriedly toward the area of the castle that had been adapted as a workshop for Anna. He knocked twice on the thick oak door before opening it.
Inside, the heat was comforting.
Anna was focused, manipulating a small block of iron with her green flames, while Arthur observed the details of the process, taking notes in a leather notebook.
— "Excuse me, Mr. Arthur, Miss Anna," — Barov cleared his throat, maintaining a polite distance.
Anna stopped the magic, and the green fire disappeared without leaving any smoke.
Arthur turned to the door, raising an eyebrow.
— "What is it, Minister?"
— "His Highness the Prince asked me to inform you that Commander William and Miss Nightingale have returned from their mission. They are in the main hall, and they did not return alone."
A gleam of interest crossed Arthur's eyes, and Anna broke into a small smile of relief knowing that Nightingale and William had returned safely.
— "Thank you, Barov. We are on our way."
The castle's main hall was warm and well-lit.
The large stone fireplaces crackled with thick logs of wood, banishing any memory of the blizzard outside.
The long oak table, usually used for council meetings, was now abundant. The intoxicating smell of roast pork, fresh garlic bread straight from the oven, and warm vegetable soup filled the air.
It was the kind of hearty reception Roland always liked to provide to break the ice.
Around the table, the seven were already seated: William, Nightingale—who had finally deactivated her invisibility—Diana Argus, Lightning, Roland, Arthur, and Anna.
Lightning wasted no time. With her eyes shining like stars, she devoured a piece of bread dipped in the hot soup, letting out small murmurs of satisfaction.
The warmth of the place and the food were like an unreal dream for the young adventurer.
Diana Argus, however, hadn't even touched her plate.
The former noble sat rigidly in the upholstered chair. Her eyes wandered through the sumptuous hall, over the tapestries on the walls, and especially over Roland and Arthur's faces. She still harbored extremely fearful thoughts.
Even having mustered the courage to follow William and Nightingale to that castle, the ancestral fear of false noble promises tightened her throat. She clenched her fists so tightly on her lap that her knuckles were white; what if this is all a trap? What if they are just feeding us before handing us over to the Church?
Noticing Diana's shallow breathing and somewhat terrified look, Nightingale leaned gently towards her.
With a comforting gesture, Nightingale placed her hand on Diana's tense shoulder. When the frightened woman looked at her, Nightingale smiled. It was a calm, warm smile, full of unshakable certainty, which silently said: "You are safe now, do not worry."
Diana let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her fists relaxing slightly. She picked up the spoon, trembling, and tasted the soup. A solitary tear of relief slid down her cheek as she felt the warmth of the food.
With everyone settled and eating, Roland leaned back in his chair, adopting an attentive posture.
— "So, William, Nightingale..." — Roland began, his voice calm. — "I am glad you are back and safe, but I see in your eyes that the journey was not easy. What happened on the mountain?"
Nightingale cleared her throat.
Since she had been the only one to actually enter the camp to try to convince the sisters, the floor was hers.
She began to explain the situation, detailing how she had arrived at the camp and looked for Wendy. She spoke of her sisters' initial reaction, and the immediate resistance of Cara, the leader, and finally, how the other witches were terrified yet enchanted by the possibility of not feeling pain in Adulthood.
Nightingale's voice wavered slightly as she recounted the moment she was poisoned and paralyzed. She described the pain of betrayal upon waking tied to a stake, isolated from her magic by the God's Stone of Retaliation.
Roland frowned, indignation growing in his chest as he heard about Cara's fanaticism.
Nightingale continued, telling how Cara burned the parchment with the blueprints for the steam engine, laughing at her promises. She told how Wendy tried to intercede, only to be ignored by Cara as well. And, finally, how the threat of the glowing iron almost took her life.
— "That was when William came in," — Nightingale said, turning her face to look at the man who was eating silently. — "He didn't hesitate. He crossed the cave, disarmed Cara, broke the God's Stone of Retaliation with his bare hands, and we fled immediately through the Mist."
Arthur observed everything in absolute silence.
As he listened to the account, Arthur's analytical mind tried to fit the pieces of that new reality with the knowledge he had from his past life. He quickly found a crucial detail strange: Wendy was not seriously injured, and her appearance was very different from what was described in the story.
This was probably the result of William's premature intervention, Arthur deduced.
He looked at the blonde girl devouring her third piece of bread. Lightning. Her appearance perfectly matched what he had imagined and the illustrations he remembered from the Manhua. The short hair, the adventurer's jacket, the boundless energy.
But what about Wendy? Shouldn't the kind wind witch possess auburn hair down to her waist, and full features...?
Arthur's thought was abruptly cut off when William, sensing it was the right moment, wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and took the floor.
— "Your Highness, and Arthur... Allow me to formally introduce the guests," — William said, subtly pointing to the two. — "This young lady who flies through the skies goes by the name of Lightning. And the lady beside her is Diana Argus."
Arthur blinked, the gears of his brain stopping for a second.
Diana Argus? Who the hell is that?
He searched every corner of his memory regarding the original work. There was no mention of a Diana Argus in the main group, not even among the extra characters who would die on the mountain, like Red Pepper or Stone.
Diana Argus was a complete extra even among the extras, in the story he knew.
After the explanations and introductions ended, silence fell heavily over the table.
Roland and Anna were visibly surprised and saddened to learn that Nightingale had been attacked with such brutality by her own "sister" and leader of the Association.
The idea that the witches, the greatest victims of that world, were torturing each other was a painful absurdity to swallow.
To Arthur, however, Cara's attack was no surprise at all. He already knew the leader had gone mad with power and despair.
However, what caught Arthur's attention the most was not the account itself, but William's body language. His friend wasn't looking anyone in the eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on his half-empty plate, and his expression carried a deep, almost tangible melancholy.
Arthur quickly connected the dots. William was blaming himself. He believed his impulsive actions had caused Wendy to be left behind and, in her place, this Diana Argus had been brought along. William thought he had ruined Wendy's future.
Noticing the exhaustion weighing on the eyes of all the newcomers, Roland slapped his hands on the table, officially ending his questions.
— "Well, your story is disturbing, but what matters is that you are safe now," — Roland decreed with an affable smile. — "The maids have already prepared the guest rooms, with hot water and clean blankets; you can go rest from this long journey. Tomorrow we will talk about how things work around here."
The witches expressed their thanks, Lightning almost jumping for joy at the mention of hot water, and Diana offering a shy but elegant bow before following the maids.
William, however, did not head straight for his quarters. He waited for the room to empty out a bit and walked slowly to where Arthur was leaning against one of the hall's pillars.
William stopped in front of his friend. His face was pale under the flickering light of the torches.
— "Arthur..." — William called out, his voice faltering slightly. — "Could we talk in private? I need to tell you what I did there, I think I messed everything up....."
Arthur leaned away from the wall. He looked deeply into his friend's guilt-laden eyes.
Instead of accepting the invitation for the heavy conversation, Arthur simply placed a hand on William's shoulder and gave it a light, friendly squeeze.
— "Go to sleep, Will," — Arthur said, his tone of voice calm and unshakable. — "You look like a corpse; go rest."
William blinked, confused.
— "But Arthur, Wendy... I intervened too early. I left her there, I need to..."
— "William, listen to me," — Arthur interrupted him softly. — "There is absolutely nothing to worry about. You did a great job. You brought Nightingale back and saved two lives; just go rest, we can sort this out later."
William fell totally silent, surprised and disconcerted by his friend's incisive, non-judgmental words. He expected a lecture, a mockery thrown in his face, but found only acceptance. Lacking the strength to argue, William just gave a heavy nod and turned around, dragging himself toward his quarters.
Arthur watched his friend disappear down the dark corridor, and a slight smile crossed his lips.
Contrary to what William thought, Arthur was actually very happy with the outcome of that mission. William was drowning in guilt for not having waited, but the truth is he probably didn't remember a very specific detail of the original plot.
In the true story, Wendy never trusted Nightingale's words in that first moment. She defended Nightingale from death, yes, but she had not the slightest intention of going to Border Town with her. The only reason that led Wendy to finally decide to abandon the Association and flee to the town was because, after trying to stop Nightingale's execution, Cara, in a fit of madness, attacked Wendy herself with her magic.
Wendy only fled because she was physically attacked and would no longer be accepted by her "friend," forcing Nightingale to drag her away almost lifeless.
Because William had invaded the place before the chaos reached those proportions, Cara's direct attack on Wendy never happened. Consequently, Wendy did not have the brutal emotional trigger to abandon her sisters and follow them into the snow.
Therefore, Arthur had absolutely no reason to blame William for being meddlesome or for trying to actively intervene in the story. In fact, William had prevented Wendy from suffering excruciating pain, saved Nightingale, and even secured Lightning's arrival—the key to future exploration. As a bonus, he had saved this Diana Argus from the sad end she certainly would have met in the fangs of the demons.
No, there was no reason for guilt. And it definitely wasn't the time to rack William's brain with the whims of the multiverse and destiny.
Arthur turned his back to the empty hall, feeling more confident than ever that things, in a twisted and unpredictable way, were finally heading toward his absolute protagonism.