Chapter 72: A Sister’s Shadow

“Claire, where’d that person go?”

Nolan coughed repeatedly from the kicked-up dust, waving to clear the haze before his eyes while squinting around— the girl who’d stood there moments ago had vanished.

Claire couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.

Neither teleportation nor invisibility ranked among basic spells; they were advanced arts.

Even if the child had prodigious talent, she couldn’t possibly master such arcane techniques at her age.

Unlike Nolan, momentarily blinded by the dust, Kritiya standing still at the second-floor window had witnessed it all— the instant Claire swung her wand to summon the whirlwind, she’d cleverly spun with the momentum, slipping swiftly into the stall’s shadow, then hurried headlong toward the station’s outskirts without looking back.

By the time Kritiya snapped to, she realized she’d chased out unconsciously.

Her legs seemed possessed of their own will: pushing the door, hurrying downstairs, threading the yard’s quiet path silently from the station…… a fluid chain of motions, instinctual near, leaving no trace of deliberation in her mind.

She halted abruptly at the post road’s edge.

Rustles came from roadside shrubs— likely Claire’s hasty passage.

Kritiya stood still a moment, green eyes locked on the quivering dry twigs and withered grass.

After a beat, she slowly raised a hand, drawing her cloak’s hood low over her brow; the wide brim not only hid her silver-gray locks but veiled the tangled emotions on her face.

From the station yard drifted Nolan’s anxious calls, faint, but the girl had no heart to answer.

She hesitated no longer, stepping forth to follow Claire’s trail.

Claire’s flight was spur-of-the-moment, sans any plan; in haste, she hadn’t gone far.

Tracing the mud’s chaotic prints, soon Kritiya spotted the small black-haired figure— propped against a massive boulder, bent over, shoulders heaving with ragged gasps.

Crack—

The snapped twig rang clear.

“Hah?”

Claire shot upright like a startled groundhog, wand aimed thoughtlessly at the sound without pause.

What met her eyes was a mysterious silhouette, face obscured in the hood’s deep shadow, indistinct.

“……What the hell?”

She furrowed her brow, voice still breathless.

Kritiya gazed silently at the wary, utterly foreign glare her sister turned on her, ultimately forgoing the hood’s removal.

The two faced off at neither near nor far distance, a faint stasis thickening the air.

At last, as if the quiet proved unbearable, Kritiya stepped half-forward.

Yet she couldn’t quell her body’s tremble, sending a faint, clear jingle from beneath her loose robes— clink-clank, like hard objects jostling within.

“Hold it!”

Claire barked, eyes fixed on the unnatural bulge hinted under the other’s cloak.

“What’s under your clothes— weapons?”

“Don’t come closer.”

The words landed like a binding curse; Kritiya halted silent.

Right— they were weapons: hand crossbow and quiver, from last night’s adventurer, precisely her sort of gear.

“You…… what’re you staring at?”

Claire grew more uneasy under the mute regard, eyeing the silent oddity suspiciously while edging backward warily.

“Such a pain……”

She muttered low, as if to steel herself: one hand clumsily hiking her oversized skirt, the other steadying the wand, gaze vigilant on the crimson-cloaked figure ahead, heedless of the tangled roots and uneven ground underfoot.

Thud!

Her ankle twisted sharp; her whole body lost balance in a flash, crashing with a muffled thump right into a leaf-shrouded pit.

Kritiya’s heart jolted; she lunged instinctively to steady her.

But this reflex, in Claire’s eyes, read as opportunistic malice.

As she toppled backward, off-kilter, the wand’s tip aimed at the other had already—

Kritiya felt the world before her swallowed by blinding white, the intense glare like myriad needles stabbing her eyes.

She clapped hands over them, vision gone in an instant, ears ringing with buzz.

Long moments passed before the white sea ebbed slow, leaving flickering afterimages; surroundings blurred, then slowly reformed.

Vaguely, she glimpsed Claire’s form about to vanish from sight—

“Wait!”

The burn lingered in her eyes, vision veiled like translucent gauze; trees swayed hazy, laced with stubborn spots.

Kritiya endured the discomfort, chasing the last memorized direction and fading footsteps in her ears, plunging into the woods.

Dim light filtered through; branches snagged her cloak, hindering every step.

Yet Claire’s footfalls ahead grew distant, ultimately devoured by wind.

Lost her?

As time wore on, Kritiya’s sight cleared fully, but the woods held no trace of Claire; the girl said nothing, merely pressed on silent—

Unease stirred faint; just as Kritiya neared despair of total loss, her gaze caught the roadside’s slender form—

Claire lay curled motionless amid dry leaves, cheeks deathly pale, eyes shut tight, wholly unconscious.

Kritiya’s face darkened sharp; how could the lively girl who’d scampered ahead moments ago collapse like this?

Tripped in haste?

Injured somehow?

Or ambushed?

Suspicions flooded, tightening her breath.

She hurried forward, kneeling single-kneed beside Claire, fingers light to her neck.

Only feeling the faint pulse, seeing the chest’s slight rise, did Kritiya exhale a fraction.

Then, she noted Claire’s lips quivering faint, as if murmuring in delirium.

Kritiya leaned close, ear to her mouth.

“I…… don’t want……”

The voice wisped like wind-torn thread.

As Kritiya strained for the broken syllables, a clear shout rang sudden from behind:

“Tiya!”

Nolan’s hurried steps neared from afar.

Seeing Kritiya half-kneeling, the black-haired girl out cold, he froze mid-stride, face etched in shock:

“N-No…… she’s alright? Wh-What happened to her?”

Kritiya merely shook her head silent, gaze never leaving Claire’s form.

Nolan advanced two steps, crouching to scrutinize Claire’s features minutely, brows furrowing in dawning recall.

He hesitated a beat, then ventured unsure:

“This wouldn’t be…… mana exhaustion, would it?”

Noting the flicker of puzzlement crossing Kritiya’s oft-impassive face— Nolan now caught these subtleties there— he hurried to explain:

“It’s what Leyak mentioned…… when he tutored my enchanting, I’d botch the control often, end up like this— seared it in my mind.”

Ah, so that’s it— Claire too young, body immature; even with stellar mana affinity, her frail spirit base couldn’t bear heavy casting.

Like a delicate goblet: it might hold fine wine, but not raging torrents.

Nolan’s gaze skimmed Kritiya’s taut profile, the faint quiver there rousing myriad questions in him; yet settling back on the unconscious Claire, he knew now wasn’t for queries.

“I know what to do— let’s get her back to the station?”

The boy said thus.