If one were to fly, they could reach the snowy mountain much faster.

Vika Lamberst, wary of Jeremi Iker’s sudden appearance, stepped in front of the unconscious duke to block him.

“Jeremi! Did the temple order you to find the ancient resurrection scroll first?!”

But unlike the cautious Vika, Veronia remained calm.

“If that were the case, you wouldn’t have foolishly come alone. What business does a mage have here?”

Jeremi bowed respectfully toward Veronia, then raised his head.

“I have come to assist His Grace.”

Vika stared at Jeremi, puzzled by his unexpected words, yet she still did not lower her guard.

“Why? Why help us?”

“The reason is simple. Because we are friends.”

Vika looked at Jeremi with bewildered eyes, as if unable to comprehend his meaning, and repeated,

“Friends…?”

“Yes. I believe we are friends.”

While Vika murmured the word “friends” with a confused expression, Veronia beckoned Jeremi inside.

“We have obtained the resurrection scroll, but we do not know how to use it. Do you happen to know?”

Jeremi lowered his head apologetically.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. I have never seen it before, so I do not know how to use it.”

“I see. As you can see, the duke has barely survived. Can you awaken his spirit?”

“I can, but I have expended much of my magical power and stamina flying here… Even if I awaken His Grace’s spirit, I will not be able to sustain it for long.”

Even that small possibility gave Veronia great hope. Outwardly, she appeared calm, but inwardly, Veronia was trembling more than ever.

If they could awaken the duke, they might find a way to save Valije.

“Awaken the duke, even if only for a moment.”

At that moment, Veronia’s longing was greater than ever. Vika, too, watched tensely.

Soon, Jeremi’s hands reached toward Sikar Blake’s head. A fierce wind seemed to swirl around his body, and a geometrically patterned magic circle formed around them.

As Jeremi muttered further incantations, Sikar’s spirit awakened as though separating from his body.

It appeared almost like a soul—but it was not a soul. It was merely Sikar’s consciousness taking visible form.

Sikar, feigning ignorance of what had happened to him, glanced at his own prone body, then looked around.

At that moment, upon seeing his own motionless form, Sikar briefly wondered if he had died.

Had Jeremi not explained while sweating coldly, he would have assumed this was death.

“I have used magic to briefly awaken His Grace’s spirit and give it visible form. But I cannot sustain it for long.”

Sikar nodded, finally understanding.

“That’s a relief. I thought for sure I was dead.”

“Do not worry. His Grace is safe.”

Sikar’s voice seemed to float in midair.

“We know the duke went through great trouble to steal the ancient resurrection scroll, but we don’t know how to use it. That’s why we awakened you.”

Sikar now understood why they had roused him this way.

“Well done. First, take the resurrection scroll in your hands.”

Veronia followed Sikar’s instruction and took the scroll.

“Then, follow me. ???????????? ???????????? ????????????????…….”

It was an ancient language. As royalty raised with the ancient tongue, Veronia was familiar with it, and thus could easily mimic Sikar’s words.

“???????????? ???????????? ????????????????…….”

“????????????…….”

“????????????…….”

“???????????? ????????…….”

At that moment, Sikar’s form seemed to vanish briefly, then reappeared.

Jeremi began trembling violently, as if he could endure no longer.

“I—I can’t hold on much longer. Your Grace, please hurry!”

Sensing this too, Sikar recited the ancient words without pause.

“???????????? ????????????…… ???????????? ????????…….”

But as he spoke, Sikar’s form kept fading, causing the incantation to break repeatedly.

“I can’t understand a single word he’s saying!”

Vika felt as if her insides were burning. She clenched her fists in frustration but couldn’t even mimic the ancient language.

Sensing his form was about to vanish, Sikar began chanting the spell rapidly.

“???????????? ???????????? …… ????????!!! You must memorize this! You must! You must save His Highness the Consort!”

Sikar did his utmost to convey the incantation before his spirit disappeared completely.

Once he vanished entirely, Jeremi collapsed wearily against the wall.

“Hah… hah… It’s over. I could no longer hold His Grace. I apologize, Your Highness.”

Thanks to Sikar, who—even as his form faded—calmly and swiftly recited only the spell, Veronia gained considerable information.

Yet no matter how many times she repeated the incantation Sikar had left, she could not discern what words had been lost mid-chant.

After chanting several times, Veronia gazed wearily at Sikar, lying unconscious.

She repeated the same words again and again, wishing he would awaken just once more to speak to her.

Unaware of this, Vika held her breath watching Veronia—then suddenly realized Valije was not present.

“Your Highness. Shouldn’t we be before His Highness the Consort’s body to awaken him?”

Veronia, who had been intensely focused on reciting the spell, agreed with Vika.

“You’re right. We must go before Valije’s body.”

Since Valije’s resting chamber was very cold, Veronia took thick coats and handed one each to Vika and Jeremi.

As they walked to the adjacent chamber, Veronia repeated the incantation over and over to ensure she wouldn’t forget it.

Veronia opened Valije’s coffin lid and gazed at him, lying as if asleep.

Seeing his face—so peaceful and gentle as always—Veronia’s eyes reddened.

‘Can I awaken you? Will you ever look at me and smile again? Can we love each other again? Can Kian Blake meet you once more?’

Feeling tears drop steadily, Veronia gazed at Valije and chanted,

“???????????? ???????????? ???????????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????? ???????????? ????????????…… ???????????? ????????…… ???????????? ???????????? …… ????????!!!”

She tried changing the words repeatedly, unsure what belonged in the gaps—but the resurrection scroll in her hands remained utterly motionless.

Vika and Jeremi, standing by and watching, felt just as desperate.

“Th—there’s no time, Your Highness. The priests will arrive soon.”

“No, they’ve already arrived. They’ll be here any moment.”

Vika frowned sharply, gritting her teeth, and picked up a sword leaning against the wall.

“I’ll borrow this sword.”

Jeremi hurriedly followed Vika outside.

Outside, Roen had already arrived with the priests. Roen stood staring at Jeremi with disbelief.

“Master Jeremi, what are you doing here? Didn’t you say you were going to Recador?”

“I could not turn my back on a friend, Lady Roen.”

“A friend?”

“The Duchess and Duke united us. We also joined forces to drive out Gillian. Are we not friends?”

“It sounds as if you betrayed your lover for the sake of a friend.”

“I have never once betrayed you, Lady Roen. I merely believe our choices diverged. And I trusted you would understand me. Just as you cherish and care for your comrades, I must protect my friendships.”

Roen murmured pensively, as if chewing over Jeremi’s words.

“So you’re saying you’d become an enemy of the Repher Temple for your friend’s sake? Do you not realize that makes you my enemy too?”

“I will not become Repher’s enemy. After safely preserving my friendship, I will accept whatever punishment Repher imposes. If it serves you, Lady Roen, I will unquestioningly do it. I am prepared to sacrifice myself once for my friend—and everything I have for you.”

Roen drew her sword with a sorrowful expression.

“So in the end, you mean to cross swords with me.”

“I am sorry, Lady Roen.”

Roen swung her sword toward Jeremi with sad eyes—and Jeremi closed his eyes, offering no resistance.

There was no time left. They could no longer hold out outside.

Wiping her falling tears, Veronia gently touched Valije’s body.

“How wonderful it would be if you awakened. If we could eat together again, live ordinary days… how… how happy we’d be… But what can I do? It seems such happiness is not permitted to me in this life… I’m sorry, Valije….”

At that moment, one thought occurred to Veronia.

What is not permitted to the dead? Life.

The incantation Sikar had given spoke of what was not permitted.

Sensing the priests had arrived right outside the door, Veronia began chanting with the resolve of one uttering a final prayer.

“???????????? ???????????? ???????????????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????? ???????????? ???????????? ???????? ???????????? ???????? ???????? ???????????? ???????????? ???? ????????!!!”

After finishing the incantation, Veronia felt the ancient resurrection scroll in her hands grow warm. The scroll flew of its own accord toward Valije, bursting into flames and emitting a brilliant light.

As the scroll burned completely to ash and vanished, pure white smoke rose around Valije.

Veronia held her breath, watching that moment.

But only shimmering ash floated in the air—no change occurred.

So the ancient resurrection scroll truly did not exist.

Just as Veronia was about to bow her head in resignation, Valije’s eyelids twitched.

“V—Valije?!”

Veronia’s heart began to race. The hope and emotion that Valije might truly return alive made it hard to breathe.

As she covered her mouth with her hand, staring only at his face, Valije’s eyes twitched once more.

This was no dream. Veronia repeated to herself several times, “This is no dream,” as she stood gazing at Valije.

Then, slowly, Valije began to open his eyes.