Chapter 1: Cassandra Broissco

The distant sound of horse hooves clattering against the ground echoed through the air, growing louder with each passing moment. The afternoon sky was a murky shade of gray, the scent of damp earth mingling with the crisp autumn breeze. Sandra had just finished nursing one of her twin children.

"I'll check the guest. You take care of them," she instructed the wet nurse, adjusting her clothing before hurrying outside, her heart pounding with unease.

The Drasil estate, located in Dargu City, was only three hours from Brias, where the Broissco family resided. Though it was the home of the Duke's son-in-law, it was uncharacteristically modest for a noble estate. Unlike the grand, towering castles of the capital, it was a well-fortified manor, surrounded by stone walls and layered with protective enchantments.

"Who's coming?" she asked a maid cleaning the hallway.

"The guards have just reported—it's the Duchess, my lady," the maid replied, bowing her head slightly.

Sandra froze. Her mother would never come for an ordinary visit. Something was wrong.

She rushed toward the entrance, and there she saw her mother—Duchess Broissco—arriving with the help of a servant. The sight sent a chill down Sandra's spine. Her mother, usually poised and regal, was disheveled. Her clothes were wrinkled, her face pale with exhaustion, and strands of her usually well-kept hair clung damply to her forehead. The once-proud duchess looked like a mere shadow of herself, her noble grace replaced with desperation.

"Mother? What happened?" Sandra's voice was filled with shock as she instinctively reached out to steady the older woman.

Duchess Broissco turned at the sound of her daughter's voice, her expression weary and troubled. "Sandra… Our territory was attacked by demon monsters. Your father is away. I barely escaped through the river."

Sandra's heart pounded. "How could this happen? What about the guards? The protective enchantments?"

"I don't know what's become of the villages. I ordered all our soldiers to aid the people, but we were overrun. I had no choice but to flee."

Sandra's gazes darted around. She scanned the arriving party, expecting to see a small figure among them. She went to the front door, but there was no one left.

"Mother... where is Third Sister?" she asked, walking closer to her mother.

Silence.

Sandra's stomach twisted. "Did you… leave her behind?"

The disbelief in her voice was undeniable. Ever since her twin brother disappeared, her mother's attitude had changed, but she had never thought her capable of such cruelty.

"It's been hours... she couldn't be saved," Duchess Broissco replied, her voice devoid of emotion.

Sandra staggered back, horror flashing across her features. "You left her? How could you? She's just a child!"

Her hands clenched into fists. "Take Mother to her room and call for a healer," she instructed a servant, her voice tight with barely restrained fury.

"She's a monster!" Duchess Broissco's voice rose, sharp with bitterness. "When she was born, Uno disappeared! Do you want me to risk bringing her with me?" she clutched her swollen belly.

Sandra's jaw tightened. "Mother... this isn't about Uno. If she had been born a boy, I know you wouldn't be so obsessed with this. Stop using my brother as an excuse for your mistakes."

She was so sick of her mother absurd obsession. Her brother has been missing for more than ten years. She missed him too. She was sad too. Why couldn't her mother understand? She was not the only one that losing a loved one.

The tension between them was suffocating, but Sandra forced herself to swallow her anger. She stepped closer, placing a hand on her mother's arm. "You need rest. You're pregnant, and you've been through a lot. Please, let the healer check on you."

Duchess Broissco gave no response, allowing herself to be led inside.

Sandra lingered at the entrance, watching as the servants helped her mother disappear into the manor. She let out a shaky breath.

Her mind spun.

She couldn't shake the image of her younger sister—alone, terrified, possibly surrounded by monsters.

Yet, her duty as a daughter held her in place. Her mother needed care. And Sandra wouldn't leave until she was certain she was stable.

"Milady..." the butler looked at her with worry.

"I... I need to inform my husband," she tried to cool her mind.

"He was already informed. Right now, he is on the road to Brias. He even brought all five healers in Dragul. Should I tell Scarlet team to go too?"

"No need. Let me talk to my husband first. We don't know the situation there. And... third sister... she might already..." Sandra felt chilling. The poor child didn't have a name yet.

Sandra returned to her room, her movements brisk but purposeful. She reached for the communication stone on her desk, its soft glow pulsing in her palm. As she activated it, a familiar voice filled the air—it was her husband, Herigal Drasil.

"We're nearing Brias now," he said, his tone urgent. "We should be there in an hour. There's something odd about this attack. Your father's still at the Royal Academy, isn't he? What's the point of targeting Brias now? Revenge?"

Sandra's voice was steady, but worry seeped through. "It depends on the attacker. Father always leaves the family head ring at home to activate the city's protective barrier when he's away. It's not exactly a secret. Every noble family has a similar safeguard."

"A barrier? Then why was the city breached?"

Sandra hesitated, her mind racing. "There must be a crack somewhere… The problem is… Mother didn't fix the barrier. She even brought the ring with her when she fled."

"What? Why?"

"Mother's heavily pregnant. She wouldn't risk activating the ring and endangering the baby. She probably thought fleeing was the safest option," Sandra admitted, though she didn't want to defend her mother's actions.

Herigal's frustration was clear. "But why didn't she let someone else use it? If it's family-exclusive, Third Sister is still there—she's six, but that's old enough to use magical tools."

Sandra's throat tightened. "Third Sis… is still there. Alone. Can you… send someone over?"

Herigal sighed on the other end. "Sandra... even if she was alive when Mother-in-law left her, a six-year-old child couldn't survive this long in such chaos."

Sandra's grip on the stone tightened. "I know. But I can't stop thinking about her. I..." Her voice wavered.

She swallowed hard, guilt twisting inside her. "She doesn't even have an official name yet. We should at least find her remains for the ceremony," Her tone was bitter. "I regret leaving her behind. I couldn't stand Mother's attitude. That's why I rushed into marriage—to escape. I ran away and saved myself… I'm a lousy big sister."

A strange voice echoed in Sandra's mind, cutting through her thoughts.

["She's still alive."]

Sandra froze, her heart pounding. Who's there?

She couldn't even determine the voice's gender.

The voice repeated, more insistent this time.

["She's still alive."]

Her husband's voice broke through her confusion. "Sandra? What's wrong?"

"Someone sent me a telepathic message," Sandra whispered. "It said she's still alive."

A tense silence followed before Herigal spoke again, his tone grim. "Sandra… be realistic. A six-year-old child wouldn't have survived this long."

The telepathic voice interrupted, calm yet urgent.

["Cassandra Broissco, you are fated to die two years from now as a hero. If you go now, you'll die sooner—and without achieving any merit. But right now, you're the only one who wishes for that child to live. She's still alive. What you do next is up to you."]

Sandra's blood ran cold. "Who are you?" she whispered.

["I am... a ghost? We will meet after you die."]

Her grip tightened around the communication stone. Her resolve solidified.

"I'm going out," she announced.

Her husband's voice rose in alarm. "Sandra, don't be reckless! You're not fully recovered from giving birth, and there's no point in you going now!"

Sandra's noble lineage was unquestionable—she was Duke Broissco's daughter. But unlike the powerful Broissco family, her husband came from humble origins. He had earned his title not through blood but through merit, rising to the rank of captain with only a few hundred soldiers under his command.

Their marriage was an unbalanced one in the eyes of society. He had no noble blood, and many sneered at their union, questioning why a noblewoman of her status would marry a mere soldier. What they didn't know was that the one sitting on the throne had arranged this marriage.

With her father's influence—both as a duke and as a general—Sandra could have easily refused. She was no ordinary noblewoman; just three years ago, she had been a young lieutenant commanding 3,000 soldiers. But she had chosen Herigal for his unwavering loyalty and strength of character—qualities she found lacking in the noble circles she had grown up in.

People had gossiped endlessly when she accepted the arrangement, but she didn't care.

"Please take care of Brias," she said firmly, cutting off the communication.