The next morning, Deculein and Idnik walked side by side through the island’s forest, where fallen leaves blanketed the earth.0

"Roaming this island for over twelve hours is dangerous—even for me," Idnik said.0

The limit of assimilation was twelve hours. Beyond that, prolonged exposure to the Voice would begin to fade the memory away like rain on stone, and even someone like Idnik was not immune to it.0

"It would be wise for you to move around like we do, since we don’t know what might happen," Idnik added.0

"How long did I last the time before?" Deculein inquired.0

"You were created at four in the afternoon, and by six the next morning, you were gone—fourteen hours, exactly."0

It had been Sylvia who discarded him; however, Idnik kept that to herself.0

"Indeed. In the enemy's territory, one must move with the silent elegance of a sand dune," Deculein replied.0

“What… Sand dune?”0

“Like a desert dune, seen only after it has already changed everything.”0

“Don’t talk like you know everything.”0

Rustle— Rustle—0

Without a word, Deculein moved with the elegance of a perfect aristocrat—every step a declaration of who he was. And as Idnik walked beside him, a question began to form in her mind.0

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Idnik said.0

“I don’t mind.”0

“… You're not going to see your former fiancée?”0

At that moment, a breeze slipped through the trees, and the forest branches rustled in its wake.1

“I’ll have to,” Deculein replied with a nod.0

"Hmm~ And what exactly do you hope to gain by seeing your—"0

“I will have to kill her.”0

Whooooooosh—0

A stronger wind swept through the forest, and the leaves came down in a golden shower from the sky.2

“You make it sound so simple, but can you really go through with it?” Idnik asked, scratching the back of her neck.0

"It's...0