Sylvia casually dismissed the ice sword, her cobalt-blue eyes sweeping over me with unconcealed worry.

I, too, stared back at her intently, without blinking.

Her face was clear, her breathing steady, her voice carried the familiar tone I knew, and that faint, elusive, cool fragrance like a pine forest after snow wafted from her... All of it exuded an undeniable sense of reality.

Not an illusion... not one of those cold, eerie wraiths from that "world of the dead." This was Sylvia, alive and real.

Her cherry-colored lips parted slightly, her voice tinged with apology:

"That wound... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let you go back alone. Wait a moment, I'll heal it right away... Whoa!"

The long-contained dam burst. The unease, fear, and immense, recovered joy suppressed deep in my heart erupted like a flash flood.

Almost instinctively, uncontrollably, I took a step forward and wrapped my arms tightly around the petite figure before me with all my strength.

Caught off guard, Sylvia let out a small gasp of surprise, her entire body instantly stiffening.

...She'll probably scold me for this, maybe even dislike me.

But I couldn't help it.

After experiencing so much terror, grotesquery, and strangeness, after teetering on the brink of death, this tangible warmth and presence was the only thing I wanted to grasp at this moment.

I couldn't help but bury my face in the crook of her neck, which held a faint coolness, and whispered her name over and over again, as if confirming:

"Sylvia... Sylvia..."

She flusteredly pushed against my shoulders, as if trying to break free.

But I only held her tighter, and she stopped resisting. Her body gradually relaxed, finally letting out a soft, resigned sigh.

She raised that cool, small hand and gently pressed it against the empty wound on my right cheek.

"Ah... really now. You worked hard, you worked hard. It's alright now."

Her voice was very soft.

"Hugging me is fine, but could you loosen up a little? Also, don't move around; it'll affect the healing."

Only a fool would move.

I complied and loosened my grip slightly but maintained the embrace.

A warm, life-infused gentle energy slowly seeped from her palm into my skin. A faint yet distinct itching sensation spread around the wound, replacing the previous numbness and dull pain.

Within mere seconds, accompanied by the strange feeling of flesh regenerating, I could once again feel the flow of air with my right ear and hear the subtle sounds around me. It still felt unfamiliar, but my hearing was restored.

Sylvia said softly:

"Calmed down a bit? Your sister and companions are still waiting for you. Go talk to them too."

"Mmm... okay."

I reluctantly loosened my arms around her and spent considerable effort to finally tear my gaze away from her flawless face, looking around.

The scene before me... was indeed still the central area of the plaza where the dance had been held not long ago.

However, compared to the false, bright scenery of "that world," the reality here was nothing but horror and ugliness.

Headless corpses lay haphazardly inside and outside the dance floor; residual blood stained the ground a dark crimson.

Surviving townsfolk, faces pale and eyes wide with terror, huddled together. The beautiful clothes they had worn for the festival celebration were now mostly stained with blood and dirt.

Still, compared to the chaotic, despair-filled scene of screams when I was "lost," order had largely been restored now... It seemed Sylvia had accomplished much during my disappearance.

As expected of her.

Emily was actually standing not far behind Sylvia.

The usual liveliness and cheer were gone from her face. Her eyes were red and swollen as she looked at me. Without a word, she quickly walked up and grasped my hand tightly, her grip so strong her knuckles turned white.

"Brother... next time... don't scare me like that again."

"...I'll try."

I clasped her cold little hand in return, my heart full of guilt.

Waiting with her was Rosemary.

She had regained consciousness, but she seemed like a soul stripped from her body. Her gaze was vacant and dull, her eyes wide open, staring fixedly at an empty spot in the distance, utterly unresponsive to her surroundings.

Darian was in much better shape. He was currently gathered with the crowd, seemingly using his status as the young lord to desperately try to calm everyone.

Two poor souls... I really couldn't help much here either.

I turned my gaze back to Sylvia, trying my best to suppress the tremor in my voice, and whispered:

"Just now... it felt like I was dragged into a strange world by some force. Lord Vitus and Young Master Darian were there too. They said it seemed to be a world belonging only to the dead."

"A world of the dead..."

Emily fearfully shrank behind Sylphiette.

Sylvia raised an elegant eyebrow, a note of surprise in her tone:

"Oh? The lord was pulled in as well?"

I nodded, adding with a heavy heart:

"But he unfortunately passed away. However, before sacrificing himself, he told me the 'Eye of the Astral God' could be used as a beacon to return to the real world."

Hearing of the lord's death, Sylphiette's brow furrowed slightly, and she let out a sigh.

"The lord is gone... That complicates things a bit."

She looked at me, her eyes turning sharp.

"Did you see Necross in that world?"

"...Not directly. There was an entity referred to as the 'Lord of the Stone Coffin' influencing everything.

"By the way, another very strange thing: I finally found the crystal inside the belly of a gutted rat."

"Mmm-hmm, I know about that. I was the one who found a rat, stuffed the crystal in, and sent it over to your side."

Now it was my turn to be shocked.

"You knew about all that? But that information about the 'world of the dead' and the method to leave... the lord said it came from a forbidden ancient text brought by an 'unnamed demon'..."

Perhaps it was my imagination, but Sylvia seemed momentarily flustered.

"...Ah, that. Well, I did travel with the hero's party for a long time, you know. It's not strange to have picked up some odd bits of trivia and folklore, right? I probably heard Grey mention similar legends before."

I see. As expected of Sylvia.

She cleared her throat, seeming eager to move past the topic. She looked toward the direction of the Silverleaf Workshop and analyzed:

"Since Necross didn't deal with you personally in that 'world of the dead,' the attack here was most likely a diversion, a feint to split our forces and draw our attention.

"She herself is probably fighting Grey at the Silverleaf Workshop right now."

"Is that so... Sylvia, should we go support them?"

A confident smile appeared on Sylphiette's face:

"Don't worry. That guy Grey might be unreliable at times, but he absolutely won't be defeated by the same person twice.

"We just need to protect the townsfolk here and wait for him to bring back Necross's corpse, along with the second 'eyeball' she intended to use to complete the ritual."

She really... trusts Mr. Wilson a great deal.

But the one who obtained the crucial "eyeball" wasn't him.

I took a deep breath, retrieved from my chest the "thing" still wrapped in layers of solid ice, and held it out to Sylvia.

"...The 'eyeball' is right here. I picked it up while I was in that world."

The confident smile on Sylvia's face instantly froze, replaced by an expression of shock.

She stared fixedly at the ice sphere in my hand, her voice even changing slightly:

"Picked... picked up?! Adam, let, let me see!"

"Be my guest. But don't look directly at it, and it's best not to touch it directly either. My ear was lost because I saw it..."

I didn't finish, but the implication was clear. I also turned to Emily, who was curiously peeking over, and said sternly:

"Emily, you stay back too. Don't look!"

"O-okay, brother."

Though curious, Emily obediently took a few steps back and turned around.

Sylvia carefully took the ice sphere, then warily scanned the surroundings, confirming no one else was paying attention. She took a deep breath, extended a pale fingertip, and gently touched the thick layer of ice.

With an extremely faint crack, the ice began to rapidly dissolve and peel away.

At that moment, I suddenly remembered something I had overlooked.

The day before the festival, Mr. Wilson had given me a replica "eyeball," saying it could resonate with the original over long distances... That item was still in my leather pouch.

But the original was right here. Why wasn't there any reaction?

"Alright... the last layer."

My thoughts were interrupted by Sylvia's voice. She had dissolved the ice until only a thin layer remained, vaguely revealing the contour of the eyeball emitting a faint green glow within.

Necross extended her head and hand from the opening, gently stroking Sylvia's cheek.

Huh?

...What's happening?

Before I could fully comprehend the surreal scene before me, Sylvia had already acted with speed beyond my reaction limit.

She violently hurled the ice sphere in her hand toward the distant ground. Simultaneously, a crystalline ice sword materialized in her hand once more.

Her figure vanished from the spot like a ghost, appearing the next instant where the ice sphere landed. Immediately after, countless frigid sword lights fell like a storm, completely enveloping, slicing, and shattering that head along with the surrounding ground!

The surrounding crowd erupted into even more terrified screams.

I finally snapped out of my immense shock and instinctively shouted toward Sylphiette's back:

"Sylvia! That just now... how could she..."

Sylvia didn't turn around or answer my question.

I saw her shoulders tremble violently.

Then, she muttered a few extremely faint syllables:

"Everyone... run."

The ice sword clattered to the ground, falling from her grip and shattering into countless icy fragments.

Sylvia's body swayed violently, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, and she fell straight backward, collapsing.