RATBA 37

Chapter 37

A towering pillar of water erupting from a perfectly calm sea—this was no natural phenomenon. Even seasoned sailors gaped in shock.

“A monster?! Is it a monster?!”

Tension spread like wildfire as knights drew their swords. Then someone shouted:

“The pillar’s shrinking!”

The water column gradually condensed, morphing into a massive, blooming flower—only to burst open with a splash.

“…?!”

Everyone flinched, bracing for a beast… but only a familiar voice rang out.

“It’s me. I’ve returned with the spirit.”

Claudia’s voice.

The crowd froze, doubting their eyes—until she materialized atop the water, smiling.

“Watch.”

With a flick of her hand, more water pillars erupted behind her, effortless as kneading clay. The silver ring on her finger glinted—her tether to Elliott, granting her his powers.

“Y-you’re alive?!”

“By the gods—!”

“Did she truly tame a spirit?!”

They’d all assumed her dead after that cliff fall. Yet here she stood, defying expectations.

Nathan was the first to move, crushing her in an embrace.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” His voice was rough. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“I don’t plan to wander off either,” Claudia murmured, though the memory of Luke’s betrayal still simmered in her gut.

Reluctantly pulling away, she brandished a bundle of herbs.

“These are for the rashes. Boil them into a salve—it’ll soothe the itching.”

The afflicted knights nearly wept with gratitude.

Then Nathan’s expression darkened.

“Your sister claimed you deliberately withheld the side effects.”

Claudia’s breath hitched.

“Nayla said what?”

Disbelief, fury, betrayal—emotions collided as she whirled toward Nayla, who stood red-faced and trembling.

“You lied? I only asked you to help gather them! You took it upon yourself to—”

Claudia’s words died as Nayla’s shoulders shook with silent sobs.

“I… I didn’t know!” Nayla hiccuped, tears streaming. “You never told me!”

A calculated performance. Claudia finally saw through it:

Nayla wasn’t clumsy. She was cunning.

Every “mistake” had been a trap, meticulously laid.

Whispers spread like poison:

“So their feud’s real…”

“Did Lady Claudia let this happen to humiliate her sister?”

Claudia inhaled sharply.

She wouldn’t play the villain in Nayla’s script.

Gently, she wiped Nayla’s tears—a loving sister soothing a distraught child.

“You were just eager to help, weren’t you?” Her voice dripped honey. “Let’s fix this together.”

The crowd’s sympathy pivoted instantly:

“Poor Lady Nayla—she panicked over her own mistake.”

“She’s still so young…”

By the fire, Claudia brewed the antidote alone while Nayla hovered, useless.

“Thank you, Lady Rubelassis!”

“We owe you our lives!”

As gratitude poured in, Nayla slipped away unnoticed.

Claudia exhaled, stretching her sore back.

Then a thought struck her,

“Where the hell is Luke?”