Chapter 110 Turning Point
Chapter 110 Turning Point
Agnes burst into the throne room. Darkness clung to the vast chamber, broken only by flickering candlelight along the walls. Screams pierced the air—her maids, Carla and Diana, were cornered by a swarm of imps.
She surged forward, her band of servants, warriors, archers, and mages close behind. In her hand, the parchment glowed brighter and brighter, demanding her attention. For a fleeting moment she faltered—was this her only chance?
Quickly, she commanded:
“Aqua—attack!”
Streams of water lashed through the air, scattering the imps. But the wall behind them exploded in rubble. A massive minotaur stepped forward, gripping a huge axe. Orcs and goblins poured in behind it, snarling as they rushed the defenders.
Her warriors braced themselves, clashing with the horde. Agnes gripped the parchment as its glow suddenly dimmed. The paper crumbled between her fingers. Panic surged through her chest.
No—this might be my only chance.
She clutched the green stone at her neck and poured magic into the parchment. Power flowed like a torrent—yet nothing happened. The spell demanded more.
Her mind raced. Where… where is the place where it—
Aqua spread her mist across the hall, healing allies even as her form weakened. Agnes staggered as a strike tore across her arm, sending her crashing to the floor. The parchment slipped from her grasp, tumbling to the back of the hall. Its glow flickered as if being consumed, its edges disintegrating into ash.
“No!” she cried.
Ignoring the pain, she forced herself up and dashed forward, diving onto the parchment. She pressed her hands against it, channeling every ounce of power into its fading glow. At last, the spell answered.
The green stone blazed with blinding light, searing the eyes of man and monster alike. Then its glow faltered, and with it, Agnes’s strength drained completely. The stone went dark. With a deafening crack, the parchment disintegrated, its markings spreading across the floor in burning sigils.
A shockwave ripped outward, hurling Agnes back. She hit the ground hard, her body trembling violently. Through blurred vision she saw reality itself splinter—like glass shattering before her eyes.
From the rupture, strange objects spilled into the throne room: metal boxes, wooden benches, alien fragments scattered across the floor.
Aqua faltered under the onslaught of monsters, her form unraveling before dissolving into mist that vanished into nothing. Agnes could only watch, wounded and powerless, as reality twisted further—while her people were slaughtered by the monster’s advance.
And then—they appeared.
Three young girls. Their attire was unlike anything Agnes had ever seen. Two were small, black-haired—one with long hair, the other short—dressed in matching, unfamiliar garments. Their features faintly echoed the eastern provinces she had only read about. The third was taller, her vivid red hair framing garments so revealing that Agnes flushed in shock. Everything about them—their presence, their aura—was utterly alien.
Are they… the champions?
Her gaze darted frantically across the chamber. No one else appeared. Only these three.
Then the truth cut her like a blade. They’re all women. Her heart sank. How could she break her curse? How could she bear a child if there was no man? Her chest tightened, her thoughts spiraling. Exhaustion gnawed at her, despair pressing in. This was not how she had imagined it.
The girls were terrified, clinging to each other as goblins closed in. Their voices spilled out in a foreign tongue—until the sounds twisted, reshaping into words Agnes could understand:
“Sensei… I’m scared.”
Her stomach lurched. They weren’t warriors, nor saviors. They were children, ripped from another world.
Guilt wracked her as she tried to push herself up, but her body betrayed her. With trembling fingers, she attempted one last summon. All she managed was a rocky humanoid, no bigger than a child.
I’m sorry… The words echoed in her mind as her vision blurred, her strength fading in and out.
Then, through the haze, she saw them move.
The smallest girl picked up a bow, loosing arrows with startling precision, each finding a goblin’s eye. Another raised her hands, lightning sparking violently before tearing into the monsters. The tallest seized a shield, bracing herself before the others, holding the horde at bay.
For a heartbeat, Agnes believed in them.
Until she saw the minotaur. Its towering form lumbered toward the girls, axe raised high, eyes burning with malice.
Her vision dimmed again.
I’ve failed… failed to protect the kingdom, to break my curse, to find my purpose.
Her eyes fluttered open one last time—just enough to see him.
A young man. Black, messy hair. His body trembled with fear, yet a wild, reckless smirk curved across his face. His clothes were strange, like the girls’, foreign and unfamiliar.
Without hesitation, he snatched two daggers from the ground. Then, with a daring leap, he scaled the wall, swung onto a chandelier, and launched himself into the air.
Just as the minotaur’s axe came crashing down toward the girls, the boy dropped from above. He landed squarely on the beast’s head, both daggers plunging deep into its flesh. His scream tore through the hall—half madness, half conviction—as the blades sank in.
Back at the campfire, in the present, Agnes finally spoke. Her voice was low, edged with shame.
“I brought you here… and I purposely left out many things when you first arrived. When you asked for my body back then—I got cold feet.” Her gaze lingered on Iryoku, then fell. She exhaled slowly. “What did I expect? I had no experience with people, even less with men. And when I saw you in danger, guilt crushed me. Because of my own stupidity… I nearly doomed myself too.”
As her confession ended, silence settled over the campfire. The meal was finished, only the soft crackle of flames filling the night. Agnes braced herself, expecting blame, harsh words—maybe even a strike. But none came.
Then a voice broke through.
“Then… are you guys like gods?” Mark asked, wincing as Maggie carefully unwrapped the bandages from his side.
Maggie froze, her hands pausing for just a moment as her eyes flicked toward the group, gauging their reaction.
Iryoku spoke first.
“Not really, brother Mark. Back home, we’re weak. In our world, there’s no magic, no powers, no demons, no gods. Compared to the average person here, you’d probably beat us easily.”
Yumi added, ticking delicately on her fingers, “It’s true. Instead, we use technology—TV, the internet, guns, tanks, nukes…”
Maggie tilted her head. “The first time you appeared, I thought you looked different. The shape of your eyes and face wasn’t like the people of this region. I assumed you came from the eastern lands.”
Mark nodded slowly. “That makes sense. On the front lines, I’ve seen soldiers with features like yours. Though… Sister Alessandra looks more like someone from this region.”
Reika touched her chin thoughtfully. “We’re from Japan—a nation in the east of our world, which probably matches the lands you’re thinking of. People there developed different traits because of geography. Alessandra-sensei is actually half Japanese, half foreign—from a country across the world.”
Alessandra gave a small, quiet nod.
Agnes’s expression shifted at the word half. “So… it’s true? In your world, people of different races can… reproduce?”
Reika answered carefully. “Yes. But in our world, we’re all human. When we say ‘different races,’ we don’t mean different species—just small differences in things like skin tone or facial features. The genetic makeup is the same. Similar to the differences among humans from different regions here.”
Agnes’s mind burned with curiosity and longing. What’s… genetic? the thought echoed in her head.
Iryoku smirked. “But once we got here? We got strong really fast. We can do things we couldn’t do on Earth.” His grin turned wicked. “So… if you want a baby, I’ll put one in you. Doesn’t matter how many times we need to try.”
He chuckled, his hand sliding to Agnes’s waist, eyes gleaming with teasing, perverted intent.
Agnes froze, her cheeks flushing. Shy and uncertain, her mind flashed back to that time in the carriage—when she’d watched helplessly as Yumi and Reika took him, right in front of her and Alessandra.
Reika cleared her throat sharply, dragging Agnes back to the moment. “Agnes, then I can infer that the green stone you have is the same kind as the blue return stone you gave us the first time we left the castle.”
Agnes blinked, holding Iryoku’s hand as he reached closer to her chest. “Eh… I’m not sure. That stone was found by my master on one of her travels. I discovered it in her chambers, with a note on how to use it. But yes—it feels similar. Both are vessels of power.”
Iryoku studied her. “When we fought the demon Joka’latrex, did you see us through Rhogan’s eyes?”
Agnes’s stomach knotted with guilt. “Only for a moment. I couldn’t control everything… but I tried to guide Rhogan. I wanted to save you.”
Yumi suddenly shifted, sliding in on Iryoku’s other side. She pressed his arm between her breasts, soft flesh squeezing against him. “So you really did help us all along,” she murmured, glancing at Agnes before nestling her cheek to his shoulder. She trembled faintly, remembering the moment she thought she had lost him forever. For a heartbeat she wanted to strip down, ride him right there in the open—just like in the carriage—but with Mark and Maggie watching, she bit back the urge.
Iryoku understood anyway. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her head.
“That’s why you’ve been training. I know… you girls just want to protect me.”
Yumi’s eyes shimmered as she clung to him.
Alessandra lowered her gaze, shame burning in her chest. She hadn’t been there to fight by his side. Because of that, they had almost died.
Reika’s voice cut through, sly and deliberate. “What I mean is… we need to share everything Joka’latrex told us about traveling between realms.” She pouted, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in, lips brushing dangerously close to Iryoku’s. Tonight is my turn, her gaze seemed to say.
Agnes, still caught in Iryoku’s arm around her waist, nodded earnestly. “Please… tell me everything. Maybe we can piece it together. We need to.”
“Sorry to interrupt, brother Iryoku,” Maggie said, her voice weary as she finished bandaging Mark. Aqua had healed him as best she could, but his bones still cracked audibly when he moved. He swayed, barely standing until Iryoku steadied him.
Maggie’s eyes flickered to her husband, then back to the group. “Could you… take us to the village? I want to see my father.”
Silence fell. Iryoku’s face softened. “I’ll take you there.”
At the burned village, fire had long devoured the already crumbling homes. Beside the ruins loomed a blackened death tree, its twisted branches clawing at the sky, casting a suffocating weight over the place. Scattered across the dirt were simple mounds of earth—the graves Iryoku had dug with his own hands.
Maggie and Mark stepped forward cautiously. Iryoku led them to a row of ten small mounds—the graves of the missing children the group had recovered before. He pointed to one.
“Here lies Walter.”
Maggie broke. Tears poured down her face as she collapsed into Mark’s arms. He staggered, his battered body buckling beneath the weight of grief, and Iryoku caught him before he fell completely. Iryoku’s jaw tightened, his eyes reflecting the same unbearable weight.
“It’s my fault,” Iryoku muttered darkly.
But Maggie and Mark shook their heads. Mark rasped, voice trembling yet firm. “You protected us. You brought our child back. This is not your fault.”
Iryoku’s fists tightened, knuckles white. His eyes burned with rage. “I promise you… the next time I see those death-tree bastards, they’re going to die.”
They returned to the cave. Maggie, pale and drained, was helped into the carriage by the girls to rest. Mark followed, and reluctantly, the two allowed themselves a moment alone.
Outside, the rest lingered. The silence was heavy, each of them weighing their next move. Reika quietly began filling Agnes in on what they had learned about traveling between worlds.
Iryoku suddenly turned to Alessandra.
“Then what’s your verdict? What do I need to train to get stronger, coach?”
Alessandra blinked, caught off guard by his directness.
“You’ve been training Yumi and Reika physically,” he pressed, tilting his head. “Should I do the same? After all… that heavy spell the bastard king used on me—and that other one that erased magic…”
Alessandra’s expression hardened. “That’s true. We’ll need to take proper measurements.” Her sharp eyes locked onto him, calculating.
The others turned their attention fully to the conversation.
“How do I overcome that?” Iryoku asked, then shifted his gaze to Agnes. “Actually… what exactly was that spell?”
Agnes fidgeted, guilt thick in her voice. “It’s… a weight-multiplication spell. Extremely rare—almost no one even knows of it. And because it affects the whole area, even the caster gets caught if they step inside. It’s usually used as a trap, to slow or cripple opponents. The other one… it’s similar. A field that cancels magic and Leben completely. For the same purpose.”
“Those fuckers,” Iryoku growled, his jaw tight. “They knew exactly how to cripple me—and you girls. Jonas, that snitching bastard. Good thing I killed him. And those traitorous bitches—the maids—I’ll…” His teeth ground audibly.
Agnes flinched at the venom in his voice.
But then his eyes softened as they settled on her. “I’m not blaming you. It’s obvious they only stayed near you as spies. They made you believe they were your friends.”
Agnes’s hands curled into fists. The sting of betrayal burned, but she refused to let tears fall. She straightened her back, her voice steady.
“Then I’ll train too. I want to get stronger.”