I walked through the busy streets of the capital, my eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. The buildings loomed tall around me, their grandeur serving as a constant reminder of the gulf between the nobility and the common folk. I had one goal: to find some sort of lead about Sayo and Lucaus and unravel the mystery behind the assassination and corruption that gripped this kingdom. But despite walking down countless streets and passing through crowded markets, nothing stood out.

  I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I was being watched, though no one seemed to pay me any mind. The nobles paraded around with their expensive robes, their proud expressions betraying an arrogance that made my blood boil. How could they live their lives so lavishly while others suffered in the shadows? I passed by one nobleman, his nose high in the air, as he looked down on a beggar kneeling on the street. It took everything in me not to strike him down right then and there. The beggar, an elderly man, asked for a mere coin, but the noble just sneered and kept walking.

  It wasn’t just one noble either. Everywhere I looked, I saw the same pride, the same disdain for the people who made this kingdom function. The nobles didn’t care about the commoners—only their power, their status. And in this kingdom, that meant everything.

  I kept moving, deeper into the capital, trying to shake off the frustration that gnawed at me. I needed answers, but I didn’t know where to start. I walked through narrow alleys, trying to pick up any whispers of corruption, any sign of wrongdoing that could lead me to the truth. But as the hours passed, the streets felt colder, more indifferent, and the hope of finding anything useful seemed to slip further away.

  I stopped near a marketplace, watching a group of nobles bargain with merchants, treating them like dirt beneath their feet. My hands tightened into fists. How could I let this go on? I needed to find a way to tear down this kingdom’s rotten foundation, but for now, I had to focus on finding Sayo and Lucaus.

  The search would continue, but I knew that it wouldn’t be easy. The nobles’ foolish pride was just the surface of something much deeper. Something much darker. I couldn’t help but wonder if the king himself was tangled up in this web of lies and deceit.

  With a sigh, I continued my search, feeling a growing sense of urgency. I wouldn’t give up. No matter how long it took.

  After hours of fruitless searching in the capital, I decided it was time to leave the crowded streets behind and venture outside the city walls. The air felt fresher here, and the heavy weight of the noble’s pride seemed less suffocating. Maybe, just maybe, I’d find some real answers beyond the reach of the kingdom’s corrupt core.

  I made my way along the worn dirt road that led outside the capital, my steps heavy with frustration. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the fields that stretched out in front of me. As I walked, my senses sharpened, and I could hear the faint sound of shouting carried by the wind. It wasn’t just the usual sounds of the countryside—there was something urgent, something frantic.

  Curious, I followed the sounds, my footsteps quickening. As I rounded a bend in the road, I was met with an unexpected sight: a group of warriors, exhausted and bloodied, were desperately holding off a band of massive orcs. These were no ordinary orcs. Their muscles bulged with raw power, their faces twisted with rage as they charged at the small group of warriors guarding a noblewoman’s carriage. The warriors were barely keeping up, struggling to hold their ground.

  The noblewoman, cloaked in fine clothing, sat inside the carriage, her face pale and tense with fear as the orcs clawed at the defenses. Her servants and guards were doing their best to shield her, but it was clear they were outmatched. One warrior was knocked aside with a vicious blow, another dropped to the ground, clutching his side as he tried to rise. It seemed like only a matter of time before the orcs would overwhelm them completely.

  I couldn’t let this go on. Despite my growing frustrations, this wasn’t the time for hesitation. I had been searching for answers for so long, but this? This was an opportunity to make a difference, even if just for a moment.

  Without thinking, I ran toward the group, drawing my daggers as I did. The orcs turned their attention to me as I approached, roaring in fury. I was already moving by the time they raised their weapons, my daggers flashing as I closed the distance between us in an instant. One orc swung down its massive club, but I sidestepped with ease, feeling the wind rush past me as the club missed by mere inches. I retaliated immediately, slashing with both daggers, carving into the orc’s side. It howled in pain, but didn’t fall.

  The battle was chaotic, with the remaining warriors fighting valiantly to keep the orcs distracted. But I was faster, more agile than they could have anticipated. I spun around, taking another orc by surprise, my blades flashing as they found their mark in the orc’s neck. The orc collapsed, blood spilling from its wound as it crumpled to the ground.

  “Who are you?!” one of the guards shouted as he glanced at me, trying to regain his footing.

  “Someone who doesn’t like seeing people get slaughtered,” I answered coldly, my focus still on the orcs. I dodged a swing from a second orc, this one larger than the first, and jumped onto its back. My daggers found their place under its armor, driving deep. The orc grunted in pain, trying to throw me off, but I held on with all my strength, stabbing again and again.

  The sounds of battle were deafening, but through it all, I could hear the desperate cries of the noblewoman from inside the carriage. It was clear that the orcs were only interested in the carriage, and if they couldn’t get to her through the warriors, they would turn on the carriage itself. I couldn’t let that happen. Not now.

  I leapt back into the fray, spinning my daggers in a whirlwind of motion. The warriors around me seemed invigorated by my presence, as if my sudden arrival had given them a glimmer of hope. Together, we pushed the orcs back, slashing and stabbing at their thick hides, exploiting any opening we could find.

  One by one, the orcs began to fall. They were strong, but not invincible. And I wasn’t about to let them have the satisfaction of defeating me—or these people.

  Just as it seemed like we were finally gaining the upper hand, a larger orc, one even more monstrous than the rest, roared in fury. It was the leader, the one who had been rallying the others. It charged at me with such speed that I barely had time to react. My daggers collided with its massive club, sparks flying as I tried to hold it back. The force behind its strikes was overwhelming. I could feel the ground shake beneath my feet as it swung again, aiming for my head.

  I rolled to the side just in time, but my arm grazed against its weapon, leaving a deep burn on my skin. I gritted my teeth, my resolve hardening. The noblewoman’s life was on the line. There was no time to hesitate. I needed to finish this.

  With a surge of power, I launched myself back into the battle, narrowly avoiding the orc’s wild strikes. My daggers flashed again, and with a well-aimed strike, I pierced the orc’s heart. It let out a final, guttural roar before collapsing, its body falling to the ground with a heavy thud.

  I stood over its fallen form, breathing heavily. The battle had been grueling, but we had won. The remaining orcs were retreating, their spirits broken, their leader defeated. I looked around at the warriors, many of whom were injured but alive.

  “Thank you,” one of them said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. “You saved us.”

  I nodded, wiping the sweat from my brow. “It was nothing.”

  I glanced back at the carriage. The noblewoman, still pale and shaken, was now being attended to by her guards. She peered out from the carriage, her eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of gratitude there, but also something else. Something that felt… distant.

  “Are you alright?” I called out, making my way toward the carriage.

  “I-I’m fine, thank you,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “But… who are you? What do you want?”

  I paused. The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation. I wasn’t here for her, though. I wasn’t interested in the nobles. I was looking for answers.

  “I’m just passing through,” I said after a long moment. “But don’t worry. You’ll be safe now.”

  With that, I turned and began to walk away. There was nothing else for me here. The battle was over, but the search for Sayo and Lucaus, for the truth, was far from finished.

  As I walked back toward the capital, my mind raced. Who was behind these attacks? What was really going on in this kingdom? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than just a simple raid.

  But for now, I would have to keep moving forward. The kingdom’s secrets weren’t going to reveal themselves easily.

  And I wasn’t about to give up. Not yet.

  The sun had barely risen the next morning when I found myself walking through the streets once more, my mind still heavy with the events of the previous day. The orc battle had been a reminder of the harsh realities outside the capital, but it was also a reminder that I still had a long way to go in finding the truth behind all the corruption and assassinations.

  As I wandered aimlessly through the bustling streets, my thoughts consumed with the search for answers, I unexpectedly crossed paths with her again—the noblewoman I had saved the day before. She was standing near the same market square where the orc ambush had occurred, surrounded by her guards, but this time, her expression was calmer, more composed.

  Her eyes locked onto mine as I walked by, and there was a subtle flicker of recognition before she stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding attention.

  “Ah, you,” she said, her voice light but with an air of elegance. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

  I stopped, slightly taken aback, but I offered a respectful nod. “I didn’t think I’d see you either, after everything that happened.”

  She smiled, a faint curve of her lips, though her eyes were still slightly wary. “You’re quite the hero, aren’t you? Saving us from those orcs... I owe you my gratitude.”

  I raised a hand, shaking my head. “I was just in the right place at the right time. No need to thank me.”

  She paused for a moment, studying me with a discerning look. Then, she spoke again, her tone a little more serious. “You’ve helped me, and I wish to return the favor. You must be tired after all that fighting. Please, allow me to extend an invitation to you. I would be honored to have you as my guest.”

  I blinked, surprised by her sudden offer. “Your guest?”

  “Yes,” she replied smoothly, her eyes glinting with something I couldn’t quite place. “My family has a mansion on the outskirts of the capital. I can offer you a place to rest, food, and a chance to recover from your travels. You must have seen how dangerous the roads are. It would be best for you to stay with us for a while.”

  Her offer seemed genuine enough, but I couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling in the back of my mind. There had been rumours about the Kitaga family, whispers of corruption and dark dealings. A part of me was reluctant to accept, but at the same time, I realized this could be an opportunity. A chance to get closer to the nobles, perhaps even uncover something about the royal family’s involvement in the chaos that had been plaguing the kingdom.

  I kept my expression neutral as I weighed my options. It was a risk, but at this point, I had little to lose. If anything, this could be a way to learn more about the people in power here. Maybe the rumors weren’t true. Or maybe they were, and I’d have the chance to expose them.

  After a moment of contemplation, I nodded. “I’ll accept your offer. I appreciate your hospitality.”

  Her eyes lit up with a gleam of satisfaction. “I knew you’d understand. Come, follow me. It’s not far from here.”

  She gestured for me to follow, and I did, silently. As we walked through the busy streets of the capital, I couldn’t help but notice how easily she moved among the common people, her guards maintaining a respectful distance. The contrast between the nobility and the commoners in the capital was jarring. The nobles acted as if they were untouchable, their noses in the air, while the common people struggled just to get by.

  As we walked, I glanced at Koharu. She wasn’t like the others, not outwardly, at least. There was a certain grace to her, a charm that drew people in, even though I could sense there was something more beneath the surface. I wasn’t sure if I could trust her completely, but for now, there was nothing to lose.

  After a short walk, we arrived at a grand mansion situated on the edge of the capital. The mansion was massive, surrounded by tall iron gates and a well-maintained garden. The exterior of the building was elegant, but there was something about it that felt... off. Perhaps it was the way the windows were slightly too dark, or how the guards standing at attention seemed to be a little too alert.

  As we approached the door, the guards gave a polite nod to Koharu, and she waved them off. “Welcome to my home,” she said, her tone calm, though I could see a glint of pride in her eyes.

  I glanced up at the mansion once more before stepping inside, feeling the cool air of the interior wash over me. The large entryway was lavish, with expensive-looking furniture and intricate tapestries hanging on the walls. But something about it still didn’t sit right with me. It felt too grand, too perfect.

  As Koharu led me through the halls, I couldn’t help but feel like I was walking into the heart of something I didn’t fully understand. I had accepted her invitation without much thought, but now that I was here, I began to wonder: Was I walking into the lion’s den?

  The thought lingered in my mind as I was escorted to a guest room. The moment I stepped inside, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. The room was luxurious, filled with velvet cushions and fine furniture, but it was too quiet. Too still.

  I pushed the unease aside. I wasn’t here to be paranoid. I was here to learn the truth, and whether or not Koharu was a part of that truth, I would find out soon enough.

  “Rest well,” Koharu’s voice echoed from the doorway as she stood there, watching me. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk more. You’ll get a better sense of who we are.”

  She left before I could respond, closing the door behind her with a soft click. I stood there for a moment, looking around the room, my mind racing.

  Was this truly the place where I would find the answers I sought? Or had I walked straight into the hands of those I had been searching for all along?

  I couldn’t say for sure, but I knew one thing: I wasn’t going to let my guard down just yet.

  Tomorrow, I would find out what the Kitaga family was really about.

  But for now, I needed rest. The journey was far from over.

  And I wasn’t going to let anyone stand in my way.

  The next morning, I awoke in the guest room of Koharu’s mansion, still with the strange sense of unease that had settled over me the night before. Despite the luxurious surroundings, there was something in the air, something unspoken that made it feel more like a trap than a refuge. But I had to push that aside—for now, I was here, and I had to make the most of it.

  Koharu had promised to introduce me to her family, and as I made my way downstairs, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of people they were. If Koharu was any indication, the Kitaga family was no stranger to nobility, but was there more to them than met the eye?

  When I entered the main hall, I was greeted by Koharu, who was waiting by the grand staircase with a smile on her face. She gave me a respectful bow as I approached, her long, silvery-white hair cascading down her back in a loose ponytail, almost glowing in the soft light filtering through the windows. Her pale violet eyes locked onto mine, and I couldn’t help but notice the sharp, graceful features of her face. She looked serene, yet there was an intensity in her gaze that made me feel like she could see right through me.

  “Amahiko,” she said with a calm voice. “I’m glad you decided to join us. My family is eager to meet the person who saved me from those orcs.”

  Before I could respond, she gestured toward the large dining hall at the back of the mansion. The room was filled with warmth and the scent of freshly prepared food. The wooden table was already set, and standing by the entrance was a tall, imposing figure—the man I assumed was her father.

  “This is my father, Seijo Kitaga,” Koharu said, introducing him with a formal tone.

  The man before me was everything you would expect from a noble warrior. Seijo Kitaga was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders that suggested immense strength. His short, dark brown hair was neat but slightly tousled, and his amber eyes radiated both wisdom and an undeniable fierceness. He had a square jaw and a rugged, stern face, with wrinkles that hinted at a life lived with hard work and experience. His presence alone demanded respect, and as I locked eyes with him, I couldn’t help but feel an almost tangible aura of authority emanating from him.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, Amahiko,” Seijo said, his deep voice low and steady. His tone was neither warm nor cold, but I could tell from his firm handshake that he wasn’t the type to hide his true feelings. “Koharu speaks highly of you.”

  I nodded, unsure of how to respond. “It’s a pleasure, Lord Seijo.”

  Before I could say more, a soft voice interrupted us, and I turned to see a woman standing at the far end of the room. She was shorter than her husband, with a slender frame and long, chestnut-colored hair that cascaded gracefully over her shoulders. Her warm hazel eyes gleamed with kindness, and her facial features were soft and nurturing. When she smiled, it was as though the entire room lightened, and I could sense her gentle, caring nature immediately.

  “This is my mother, Hikari Kitaga,” Koharu introduced with a tender smile. “She’s the heart of our family.”

  Hikari stepped forward and greeted me with a warm smile, her gentle demeanor putting me at ease almost instantly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the one who saved my daughter. Thank you for your kindness.”

  I bowed slightly, trying to show my respect. “It was nothing, Lady Hikari. I’m just glad I could help.”

  She smiled again, her hazel eyes twinkling with something soft but thoughtful. “I’ve heard about the troubles that have been plaguing the capital,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “We are grateful for your actions. The kingdom needs people like you.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I had my suspicions about the Kitaga family, and while they seemed kind on the surface, I knew better than to trust a noble family too quickly. However, their warmth and hospitality were undeniable, and I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to them than the rumors I had heard.

  After a brief moment of silence, Koharu led me to the table, where the three of them began talking casually. The conversation turned to trivial matters, like recent events in the capital and the latest gossip about other noble families, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, that my every word and action was being carefully scrutinized.

  I noticed that while her father, Seijo, kept a watchful eye on me, he never spoke much, preferring to listen. His gaze seemed to pierce through everything, as if he was constantly evaluating the people around him. His wife, Hikaru, was the opposite—gentle, nurturing, but I could see a sadness in her eyes, as if she was carrying a heavy burden.

  And Koharu... she was something else entirely. Beautiful, composed, and mysterious. She was the perfect noblewoman, but something about her didn’t add up. It was as if she were hiding something, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I had walked into a game much larger than I had anticipated.

  After dinner, as the conversation slowed and the family prepared to retire for the evening, Koharu spoke once more. “Tomorrow, we will show you the true face of the Kitaga family,” she said, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it now. “But for tonight, rest. You’ve done enough.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I nodded and excused myself. As I made my way to my room, my thoughts swirled around the family I had just met. Seijo, with his imposing presence and hidden strength. Hikari, with her kindness masking something deeper. And Koharu, who seemed to hold the key to so many unanswered questions.

  What was their true motive? What was the Kitaga family really up to?

  I didn’t know, but I was going to find out.

  Tomorrow, I would uncover the truth—whether they were ready for it or not.

  The night was unusually quiet. As I lay on the bed in my guest room, staring at the ceiling, the sounds of the mansion’s quiet ambiance kept me restless. The gentle hum of the night air seeped through the window, and the soft rustling of leaves outside was almost soothing. Yet, something didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off in this mansion, something I hadn’t seen yet, but something was hidden just beneath the surface.

  Suddenly, a faint sound broke the silence—a faint creaking noise, the unmistakable sound of carriage wheels on gravel. At first, I brushed it off as nothing more than the usual noises that came with living near nobility. After all, carriages were a common sight in the area. But the more I listened, the more unsettling the noise became. The carriages... they weren’t just passing by. There was a strange rhythm to them, almost like they were gathering, coming together for some unknown purpose.

  I quickly got up from the bed, silently making my way to the window. As I peered outside, my suspicions were confirmed. A convoy of carriages—at least five or six—was parked just outside the mansion gates. The headlights from the lanterns mounted on each carriage cast long shadows across the yard, making everything feel more eerie than it should have been.

  Seijo Kitaga and his family were out there, overseeing the carriages and speaking in hushed tones. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their expressions were hard and serious. Koharu was with them too, standing beside her father, her face expressionless. It seemed like something important was happening.

  But what was it?

  A sense of unease crept up on me, an instinctual feeling that told me I wasn’t supposed to see this. I hadn’t seen anything overtly suspicious, but the way Seijo and his family were acting—it wasn’t normal. It was as though they were preparing for something, something clandestine, and I wasn’t invited.

  I stood there for a few moments, watching them from the shadows of the window, wondering if I should investigate further. But then, just as quickly as the thought appeared, I dismissed it. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. Whatever was going on, I wasn’t going to get involved tonight. For now, I needed to trust my instincts. If something truly dangerous was happening, I’d have to bide my time and learn more carefully.

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  Reluctantly, I stepped away from the window and moved back to the bed. The night felt heavier now, and I found myself unable to escape the nagging feeling that I was on the verge of uncovering something far darker than I had expected.

  I lay back down, trying to shut out the growing sense of dread. I closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep, but my mind was consumed with thoughts. I couldn’t shake the image of the carriages outside, nor the hushed tones of Seijo and his family.

  As I drifted off, my thoughts wandered to my past life, to the life I left behind. In my previous world, I had been nothing—a lonely, introverted person with no friends, no ambitions, and no purpose. I had drifted through life with no direction, unsure of who I was, where I was going, or even if anyone cared. Every day had been the same, filled with empty routines and crushing loneliness.

  There were no dreams to aspire to, no goals to chase. I had been an outsider, disconnected from the world around me. I never knew love, never had people who supported me, and I had never experienced what it meant to belong.

  But now, things were different. I had been given a second chance—a chance to find purpose, to forge my path in this new world. I had friends, allies, and people who cared about me. Despite the strange feelings that lingered about them, I wasn’t alone anymore.

  As I thought about it, the memories of my old life became sharper—colder, more vivid. The isolation, the abandonment, the feeling of never being good enough. The way I used to fade into the background, unnoticed by everyone. It felt like a lifetime ago, yet it still hurt like it had happened just yesterday.

  I wasn’t that person anymore. I had changed. But in some way, I still carried that loneliness with me, even in this new world. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t fully trust the Kitaga family. Something about them didn’t sit right with me, and until I knew the full story, I couldn’t allow myself to lower my guard.

  As the night stretched on, I finally drifted into a restless sleep. The past haunted me, the darkness of my former life lingering just at the edge of my mind. I dreamed of my old world—of a life filled with rejection and sorrow. But it wasn’t just dreams of the past. In the dream, I saw the carriages again, moving in the shadows. I saw Koharu and her family standing among them, their faces cold and unreadable. And I heard the faintest whisper—a voice that seemed to come from the depths of my mind:

  “This is where it all begins...”

  I woke with a start, drenched in sweat. The dream lingered in the corners of my mind, haunting me even after I opened my eyes. It felt like a warning—like I had seen something I wasn’t supposed to.

  And I knew, without a doubt, that whatever secret the Kitaga family was hiding... I would uncover it soon enough.

  Queen Gizelotte Orekeus sat in the dimly lit chamber, her hands clenched tightly around the fabric of her royal gown. Her sharp gaze lingered out the window, gazing into the distant horizon as if she could feel the presence of the child she had abandoned long ago. She had made the hardest decision of her life when she had let him go, believing it was the only way to protect him.

  But now, as time passed, the memories of the child, the one she had once cared for deeply, haunted her. Is he safe? She thought to herself. Has he survived? Has he grown strong, or has he been lost to the world?

  Her heart fluttered with a mix of guilt and longing, a part of her wishing that she could somehow reach out, reunite with him, and make up for the mistakes of her past. But no, that would only bring trouble. That child was a reminder of the price she had paid for the crown.

  The door to her chamber creaked open, and her brother, Heron Orekeus, entered the room. His expression was stern, as it always was. Heron, the Prime Minister of the kingdom, held much power, yet there was an emptiness in his eyes, a coldness that made him hard to read.

  Gizelotte quickly wiped the distant look from her eyes and composed herself. “What brings you here, Heron?” she asked, her voice steady, though tinged with emotion that she did not want him to detect.

  Heron stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. “You shouldn’t think about that child,” he said sharply, his voice carrying an edge of finality. “That does not suit you, my sister. The kingdom needs you. The people need you. And thinking about things you cannot change will only distract you from what lies ahead.”

  Gizelotte’s jaw tightened, but she said nothing. Heron always had a way of shutting down her thoughts with his cold logic. She could feel his presence weighing down on her, his dark intentions hidden beneath a polished smile. It had always been that way with him.

  Heron paused, watching her, his eyes cold and calculating. Then, without missing a beat, he shifted the topic. “There is something more pressing, Your Majesty. A girl from the army has betrayed us. She knows everything—the corruption, the dark secrets we’ve kept hidden. We cannot afford to let her live. She must be silenced, or else she will bring everything down around us.”

  Gizelotte’s gaze hardened, and her thoughts immediately turned back to the child she had abandoned. Was this girl somehow connected to him? Was there a deeper conspiracy at play? She quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on the matter at hand.

  “Find her,” Heron ordered, his voice cold. “Summon the assassins and Seijo Kitaga. We will deal with this traitor swiftly and quietly.”

  Gizelotte stood there, the weight of her responsibilities heavy on her shoulders. She couldn’t afford to let her emotions cloud her judgment now. Yet, despite her resolve, the image of the child lingered in her mind, a constant reminder of her past mistakes.

  Heron’s voice interrupted her thoughts once more. “The traitor must be dealt with. Once she is gone, there will be no one left to threaten our position.”

  Gizelotte nodded silently. Her mind was elsewhere, torn between the duties she had to carry out and the past she could never escape. But for now, her focus had to remain on protecting the kingdom and securing her reign. The traitor would be eliminated, just like every other threat that had come before.

  As Heron left the room, his footsteps echoing in the hall, Gizelotte’s thoughts once again turned to the child—the one she had abandoned long ago. What if he knew? What if he had returned?

  But she could not afford to think about it. Not now. The game was much bigger than a single child.

  And the end of that game would come soon.

  The steam rose in delicate swirls from the hot water, enveloping Queen Gizelotte Orekeus in a cloud of warmth. Her delicate figure, clad only in the faint veil of the steam, was a sight to behold. Known across the kingdom for both her beauty and her unparalleled skill in combat, she was a figure of immense pride. Her long, silken hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of shimmering silver, and her pale violet eyes, sharp and intense, were enough to make anyone hesitate before crossing her path.

  She was both revered and feared, a woman who had built her reputation through tireless training and the destruction of countless foes on the battlefield. She had earned her place on the throne not only through bloodshed but also through sheer strength. To her people, she was a symbol of grace and power, an embodiment of what it meant to be a true ruler.

  But today, as she soaked in the water, something was different. A subtle but undeniable unease gnawed at her. Her thoughts, as sharp as her sword, kept drifting back to the child—the one she had abandoned.

  Was he safe?

  The thought echoed in her mind, despite her attempts to shove it away. Her past, one that she had carefully buried, was resurfacing like a dark shadow, and no matter how much she tried to ignore it, it clung to her thoughts like a stubborn specter.

  She inhaled sharply and sank deeper into the bath, hoping that the water might wash away the discomfort in her chest. She was the Queen of this land, the strongest warrior, and yet she couldn’t rid herself of this nagging sensation—this persistent reminder of the child she had forsaken.

  Later, she stood in front of a mirror, brushing through her damp hair with mechanical precision. Her reflection was flawless, as always. Her pale skin glowed under the soft light, and her posture was regal. But even her reflection couldn’t erase the weight in her heart.

  She left the chamber and made her way to the training grounds, determined to refocus her mind. The clang of metal against metal rang through the air as she stepped into the arena, where a set of swords and shields waited for her. Her sparring partners, trained soldiers under her command, waited for her instructions. But today, something was off.

  Her blade clashed with her opponent’s in a series of rapid movements, but her concentration faltered. The strikes, once precise and calculated, became sloppy. The strength that usually flowed from her movements seemed to wane, as though her very core was disrupted.

  Focus, Gizelotte, she commanded herself. You are the queen. You are the strongest warrior in this kingdom. You cannot afford to be distracted.

  But the more she tried to center herself, the more that haunting thought lingered. The child.

  The swordplay continued, but the fire that usually burned in her strikes had dimmed. Her opponent hesitated, sensing something was wrong. He stepped back, bowing to her in respectful silence, but she was far too distracted to acknowledge it properly.

  She turned away, her breath coming in shallow gasps, the weight of her failure crashing down on her. It was the same feeling she had when she tried to practice magic afterward. Her incantations, once flawless, faltered on her lips, the words twisting and faltering as if her power, too, was slipping through her fingers.

  It was all she could do to finish the session. Her body, once so confident and strong, now felt like a vessel she couldn’t control. Every attempt to summon her magical power ended in failure, as if the very foundation of her strength had cracked.

  Her thoughts were consumed by the past. The child. The one she had abandoned, thinking it was the right decision.

  What if it wasn’t?

  She couldn’t shake the doubt. The fear that perhaps she had made the wrong choice, the fear that her decision would come back to haunt her and ruin everything she had fought for.

  After a long day of trying to regain her focus, Gizelotte retired to her private chambers, her body exhausted, but her mind restless. She stared out the window at the stars twinkling in the night sky, but even their beauty couldn’t soothe the turmoil in her heart. The image of the child continued to haunt her, just as it had during her training.

  And for the first time in a long while, Queen Gizelotte Orekeus felt vulnerable. A feeling she had not known in years.

  She sighed heavily and sank into her chair, her hands clasping tightly around the armrests. I cannot afford to be weak, she thought to herself, her jaw tightening. I cannot let my emotions control me.

  But the more she tried to push it all away, the more the thoughts of the child remained, deep in the corners of her mind, pulling at her consciousness.

  What if he’s alive?

  The days passed by with an unfamiliar ease as I settled into the lavish mansion of the Kitaga family. After the intense battle with the orcs and the strange encounters that followed, I couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved to finally have a place where I could rest. Koharu, her father Seijo, and her mother Hikari were attentive hosts, making sure I had everything I needed to recover from his injuries and the exhaustion from his travels.

  Each morning, Koharu would check on me personally, offering me a warm smile as she brought me breakfast. She seemed to have a natural grace about her, her movements fluid and serene, like she had always been in control of her surroundings. It was difficult for me to ignore the way she seemed to effortlessly manage everything—her family’s estate, her father’s reputation, and even his own well-being. It was a reminder of the vast difference between their worlds, and for a moment, he felt as though he didn’t belong.

  Koharu’s mother, Hikaru, was equally kind. Her gentle smile and soft voice seemed to calm me in ways that the young warrior had not experienced in a long time. When I had shared his story with her, she listened without judgment, her warm hazel eyes offering a silent comfort that made me feel understood in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Despite her gentle demeanor, he could sense an inner strength beneath it—something that made me believe she was more than just a noblewoman living a life of luxury.

  Seijo, Koharu’s father, was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with an air of authority that left no room for questioning. He treated me with the respect of an equal, as if acknowledging that my presence in their home was not a mere happenstance. Seijo’s amber eyes had a sharpness to them that made me wary, but I respected the older man’s composure. The few conversations they had were always about matters of strategy, politics, and, occasionally, my experiences in battle. I couldn’t help but feel that Seijo was sizing me up, perhaps for some future purpose, but I had said nothing.

  One afternoon, as the sun bathed the mansion in a soft golden light, I found himself sitting in the garden, surrounded by colorful flowers and the soothing sounds of a nearby fountain. Koharu came out to join me, holding a cup of tea in her hands. She offered me one, her expression calm but slightly curious, as if she were trying to understand me better.

  “How are you feeling today?” she asked, her voice soft and inviting. It was the kind of question that didn’t just ask about mine physical well-being but also seemed to inquire about my state of mind.

  I took the tea gratefully, savoring its warmth as I replied. “I’m getting better. Still a little sore, but the rest has been good.” I paused, glancing at the garden around them. “It’s peaceful here. I can’t remember the last time I had a moment like this.”

  Koharu smiled, her violet eyes sparkling with a mixture of kindness and understanding. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. The world can be harsh, and sometimes it’s nice to just take a moment to breathe.” She took a sip of her own tea and continued, “My family has always believed in offering a safe place for others when they need it. It’s the least we can do, especially for someone who’s helped us so much.”

  I had shifted uncomfortably at the mention of my assistance, unsure of how to respond. “I did what anyone would do,” I said simply, but Koharu’s gaze was unwavering.

  “No,” she replied softly, “not everyone would risk their life to protect others. Not everyone would fight the way you did. You have a strength that others don’t. My father may not always show it, but he respects that. We all do.”

  Her words lingered in the air, and for a brief moment, I felt a warmth inside mine that was unfamiliar. It was a strange feeling, one that I couldn’t quite place. But it felt nice. Too nice, perhaps. I quickly pushed the thought aside.

  Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Seijo and Hikari invited me to join them for dinner. It was a formal affair, with delicate dishes laid out in front of them, and the atmosphere was one of quiet elegance. Koharu sat beside him, her presence comforting and familiar as they shared the meal.

  Seijo spoke of his dealings with neighboring families, his voice deep and authoritative as he discussed trade agreements and military matters. Hikari offered gentle insights, her tone warm and thoughtful. Amahiko listened, realizing that this family was not just a symbol of nobility, but a well-oiled machine, working together to maintain their standing in the kingdom. They operated as one, and it was clear that each member had their own important role to play.

  As dinner ended, Koharu stood and excused herself. “I hope you’re comfortable here, Amahiko,” she said, her voice carrying a touch of warmth that seemed genuine. “If you need anything, just ask.”

  “I will,”

  I woke to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the smell of breakfast drifting into the room, and the sound of quiet conversation outside. I had spent the last few days in Koharu’s mansion, and although I was still cautious about the Kitaga family, they had been nothing but kind and welcoming. They treated me like an honored guest, giving me the best room in the house and making sure I was well-fed and comfortable. It was a hospitality I wasn’t used to, especially not after the life I had lived.

  I stretched, feeling the weight of the blankets pull off my body. It was a strange comfort that I hadn’t felt in a long time—being cared for, not out of obligation or strategy, but out of genuine kindness.

  As I got dressed, I couldn’t help but think about the events that had led me here. The fight outside the capital, the mysterious carriage that had piqued my curiosity, and then Koharu. I still wasn’t sure what her family’s intentions were. I had heard rumors of their influence, their wealth, and their questionable dealings. But Koharu herself seemed different. She had a sharp intelligence in her eyes, a quiet strength, and an air of mystery. There was something more to her, something I hadn’t figured out yet.

  Still, I couldn’t deny that the hospitality they offered made me feel at ease, if only for a moment. The kindness of Koharu, her family’s care, all of it had kept me from rushing to any rash decisions. I needed time to gather information, to observe them more closely. But right now, I could at least enjoy a moment of peace.

  I made my way down the stairs, following the pleasant aroma of food, and found the family gathered around a large dining table.

  Koharu was there, of course, seated at the head of the table. She gave me a soft smile as I entered, her pale violet eyes catching mine with a warm glimmer.

  “Good morning, Amahiko,” she greeted, her voice gentle, yet strong. “I hope you slept well.”

  I returned her smile, still unsure of what to make of her, but I couldn’t deny that her kindness felt genuine. “I did. Thank you for everything.”

  Koharu’s father, Seijo Kitaga, nodded at me as I took a seat beside him. His expression was stern, his amber eyes sharp and calculating, but there was a quiet respect in his manner.

  “We’re grateful for your help the other day,” Seijo said in his deep voice. “You saved our daughter, and for that, you have our thanks.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. It felt strange, being thanked for something I had done instinctively. Helping them had been a reflex, nothing more.

  His wife, Hikari Kitaga, gave me a gentle smile from across the table. Her warm hazel eyes were soft, filled with a kindness that matched her graceful demeanor. She was the picture of elegance, her chestnut hair falling gracefully around her shoulders. Her presence, though quiet, filled the room with a comforting warmth.

  “You are welcome here,” she said, her voice soothing. “If you ever need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”

  I nodded, trying to hide the unease creeping up in my chest. Their kindness felt almost too good to be true.

  As we ate, we exchanged light conversation. Koharu asked about my travels, and I answered with as much detail as I could give without revealing too much about myself. The last thing I wanted was to make them suspicious. For all I knew, they could be hiding something beneath their surface of warmth. But they seemed genuinely interested in me, and their treatment of me continued to be nothing but kind.

  “I trust the accommodations have been to your liking?” Koharu’s voice broke my thoughts, her eyes searching mine for a response.

  “They’re perfect,” I replied, giving her a reassuring smile. “Thank you again.”

  Her lips curved upward, and for a moment, she looked almost relieved.

  “Good. I’m glad. We are honored to have you here,” she said.

  The conversation turned to other subjects as the breakfast continued. They asked me about my time in the capital, about my experiences on the road, and I did my best to answer without drawing too much attention to myself. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. They were treating me well, but was it truly out of kindness? Or was there something else at play?

  As the meal drew to a close, Seijo stood up, his movements confident and deliberate.

  “We’ve arranged for a few things,” he said, his deep voice commanding attention. “We want to make sure you’re comfortable, Amahiko. If there’s anything you need, we can arrange it.”

  His offer was generous, but I couldn’t help but remain cautious. My instincts told me there was more to the Kitaga family than met the eye, and though they had been kind, I couldn’t trust them just yet. I had to remain vigilant, keep my guard up. But for now, I would play along. I had no other choice.

  “Thank you, Seijo,” I said, meeting his amber eyes with a steady gaze. “I appreciate it.”

  He nodded, his stern face softening just slightly. “You’re welcome here, Amahiko. And we will make sure you’re well taken care of.”

  As the family began to clear the table, Koharu gave me another smile, one that seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words.

  “There’s no rush,” she said softly. “Take your time. I’ll show you around the estate later if you’d like.”

  I nodded, but inside, my mind was still racing. I couldn’t afford to get too comfortable. There was something beneath the surface of this family’s kindness that I needed to uncover.

  As I stood up from the table and made my way out of the dining room, I glanced back at Koharu. She was watching me closely, her expression unreadable.

  I had no idea what her game was. But one thing was certain—my time here had just begun, and I would need to be careful. There was more to the Kitaga family than met the eye, and I intended to find out exactly what it was.

  The sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows over the cobblestone streets of the capital as I followed Koharu through the bustling marketplace. The day was warmer than usual, but there was an almost unsettling chill to the air. It was hard to explain, but something about the way Koharu was acting made me uneasy.

  She had insisted on taking me shopping—an odd request, given the circumstances. I had been expecting more discussions about strategy, her family’s plans, or maybe even some kind of training, but instead, she wanted to show me the finer details of life in the capital.

  “Come on, Amahiko,” she said with a bright smile, her violet eyes twinkling. “You’ve been through so much. You deserve a break. Let’s explore the city. It’ll be fun.”

  There was no harm in it, or so I thought. I had no reason to refuse, and part of me couldn’t deny the allure of spending the day away from the constant sense of vigilance that had plagued me for so long. But something about the whole situation felt… off. Koharu’s smile seemed too perfect, and the way her voice held a note of insistence made me pause.

  As we walked through the crowded streets, I tried to take in everything around me. The shops, the vendors selling colorful trinkets, the families strolling along with their children, and the occasional guard patrolling the area. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being led into something, that this wasn’t a simple day of leisure.

  Koharu led me from one shop to the next, asking for my opinion on various clothing, jewellery, and accessories. She seemed perfectly at ease, and yet, every time she glanced at me, I felt a subtle weight to her gaze—as though she were watching for something, testing me in ways I couldn’t understand.

  I used the opportunity to subtly ask about the Kitaga family. As we wandered through the stalls, I made small talk, trying to dig for information. But whenever I brought up a subject that seemed remotely suspicious, Koharu skillfully steered the conversation in another direction.

  It wasn’t long before I realized that my inquiries weren’t getting me anywhere. Koharu was far too composed, too practiced in deflecting. She knew exactly what I was trying to do. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated. I had hoped that spending time with her would shed some light on the Kitaga family, but instead, it felt like I was walking in circles, being pulled further into their web without any real answers.

  As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting a golden hue across the city, I reluctantly admitted to myself that I hadn’t learned anything new. Koharu, ever the gracious host, had expertly kept me distracted all day, and I had nothing to show for it. We returned to the mansion as the evening light faded, the quiet streets of the capital swallowing us up once more.

  I didn’t speak much on the way back, my thoughts heavy with the unanswered questions swirling in my mind. Koharu, for her part, seemed content, her demeanor calm and unflappable. But I couldn’t shake the sense that she was hiding something—something important.

  Later that evening, as I made my way to my room and prepared for bed, I tried to shake off the feeling of unease that had settled over me. I wasn’t sure what I expected from Koharu and her family, but I knew one thing for certain: they weren’t as simple as they appeared.

  I walked toward the window and gazed out at the mansion’s courtyard, the soft sounds of the night surrounding me. The moonlight bathed the grounds in silver, and everything seemed calm—too calm, almost.

  But then I saw it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a movement near the edge of the mansion grounds. It was Koharu and her mother, Hikari, walking quietly in the direction of the abandoned building that stood on the far side of the property. The same building I had noticed earlier, the one where the carriages had been unloading something the previous day.

  I watched them closely, my heart quickening. There was something strange about their actions—no one else seemed to notice, and there was no reason for them to be heading there at this hour.

  I strained my eyes, trying to get a better look. As they walked, I noticed that Hikaru was holding something—something small and compact, the faint outline of a notebook just barely visible under the light of the moon.

  I felt a chill run down my spine. The same notebook that had caught my attention earlier, the one I had seen in the carriage during the day, when I had almost gotten a glimpse of it. Was it the same one? And what could it possibly be?

  I stayed at the window, my mind racing with the possibilities. There was no reason for them to be going to the abandoned building at this hour, and the notebook only deepened the mystery. What were they doing? What were they hiding?

  I considered following them, but I knew that would be risky. If they spotted me, I would have no explanation for my actions. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew that I couldn’t ignore this. The Kitaga family was up to something, and I had to find out what it was.

  I stepped back from the window, my heart pounding in my chest. There was no turning back now. I had to get to the bottom of this—no matter the cost. As the night grew darker, a sense of unease settled deeper within me. The sight of Koharu and her mother heading toward the abandoned building haunted my thoughts. But just as I was about to step away from the window and consider my next move, something caught my attention.

  A shadow moved across the courtyard, just beyond the trees near the mansion’s edge. I squinted, recognizing the familiar figure of Seijo Kitaga, Koharu’s father. He wasn’t alone. Several other figures flanked him—men dressed in dark cloaks, their movements calculated and precise. Assassins. The chill that had started to creep into my spine intensified.

  Seijo wasn’t heading toward the building like Koharu and her mother. Instead, he was leading the group toward the town’s edge, the direction where I had seen the girl earlier—the one I had caught a glimpse of during the chaotic events of the day. It was hard to ignore the tension rising in my chest. Whatever was happening, it was urgent. They were in pursuit of someone, and the urgency in Seijo’s movements suggested it wasn’t just a routine matter.

  I quickly pulled myself away from the window and moved stealthily toward the mansion’s exit. I had to find out what was going on. Why was Seijo, a man I had assumed to be harmless and courteous, so intent on going after this girl with a group of assassins? What connection did she have to the Kitaga family?

  I took a deep breath and headed into the night, following Seijo’s group at a careful distance, making sure to keep myself hidden in the shadows. The further I went, the more I realized that something far darker than I had anticipated was unfolding in the heart of the capital.

  I kept my pace steady, using the cover of the trees and buildings to conceal myself as I followed them deeper into the shadows. Soon, I saw them emerge from the cover of the forest. The dim light of the moon illuminated a small, secluded alley where they had stopped. The girl, whom I could just make out now, was cornered, her back pressed against a crumbling stone wall. She appeared frightened, but her gaze was sharp, desperate, as if she knew the consequences of being caught.

  Seijo stepped forward, his eyes cold and calculating. “Finish it,” he commanded, his voice low but filled with authority. The assassins took a step forward, surrounding the girl with their weapons drawn, ready to strike.

  I couldn’t just stand there.

  The fury that surged within me drowned out any trace of hesitation. I rushed forward, silently, my body moving with the practiced speed of someone who had spent years honing his skills. The assassins hadn’t noticed me yet, which gave me the upper hand.

  In one swift motion, I dashed forward, unsheathing my blade. I aimed for the nearest assassin, my strike coming from behind. The assassin barely had time to react before my sword collided with his back, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  The rest of the assassins spun around, surprised by my sudden intervention. Their eyes flashed with recognition, but they didn’t hesitate. They were professionals, trained for moments like this. But I was no amateur. I wasn’t going to let them have their way. Not this time.

  I parried the next strike, a lethal slash aimed at my chest, using the momentum to twist my opponent’s arm. In the same fluid movement, I followed up with a precise strike to his throat, taking him out of the fight. The remaining assassins rushed in, but I was faster. My blade danced in the moonlight, every move deliberate and focused.

  But just as I thought I had gained the upper hand, a powerful force collided with me from behind. I barely had time to react before I was thrown to the ground. I looked up just in time to see Seijo step forward, his cold amber eyes narrowing with amusement.

  “You’ve made a mistake, young man,” he said, his voice laced with venom. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Before I could reply, the remaining assassins regrouped, surrounding me from all sides. They were fast, relentless, and clearly well-trained. I could already feel the burn of exhaustion in my muscles, the weight of the battle beginning to take its toll. But I wasn’t about to give up. Not when I was this close to uncovering the truth.

  I took a deep breath, adjusting my stance. The fight wasn’t over yet, and I wasn’t going to let these assassins take control. My mind raced, calculating my next move as I locked eyes with Seijo, who watched with an unsettling calmness.

  “You think you can stop me?” Seijo said, his voice almost mocking. “You have no idea what you’re facing.”

  With a fierce battle cry, I lunged forward, my blade cutting through the air with deadly precision. The fight continued, and I had no choice but to give everything I had left. The girl’s life was at stake, and there was no turning back now.

  The clash of steel echoed through the night, a stark contrast to the quiet surroundings of the alley. Every movement, every breath, felt like it could be my last—but I would keep fighting. For the truth. For her. And for the kingdom that was on the brink of something far darker than any of us had imagined.

  The battle was far from over.