The feeble curtains provided little protection against the cold of autumn. The room, cramped and aged, housed six beds tightly squeezed together. Though the bed sheets and blankets appeared relatively clean, they were on the verge of tearing apart.
Eight children huddled around Hector, who knelt beside a girl's bed. Their faces, marked with worry and exhaustion, reflected the severity of the situation. The youngest of them, around five years old, clung to a tattered stuffed animal, seeking solace. The eldest, a twelve-year-old boy, attempted to mask his fear with a brave facade, his eyes wide with concern.
Caym, who was already across the room, surveyed outside through the nearest window.
"Too many blind spots," he thought. "The adjacent building also seems abandoned."
"This child's fever is dangerously high," Hector said as he gently touched the forehead of the girl lying drenched in sweat, her eyes closed in restless sleep. "What happened to her?"
"S-she got sick after she entered older sister Diane's work room," David, the little girl's brother and the oldest old among the children, answered.
Caym and Hector exchanged glances.
"Is this older sister the one with a freckled face and short stature?" Hector asked.
"Y-yes."
Caym drew the curtains closed. "Let's go," he commanded.
Hector immediately carried the sick girl on his arms. "Let's go outside kids," he said.
"B-but the caretaker will be angry," they said, fear evident on their face.
Hector smirked. "Can he fight me?" he asked.
The kids followed hesitantly after the knights.
Before they headed to the orphanage, they had already arranged for some knights to raid the place. However, knowing that the dead dressmaker had a work room in the orphanage despite already having been adopted, this could very well be a trap.
"Where is the the work room?" Caym asked at the stairs as they descended to the ground floor.
"T-the one in the basement," answered the boy David.
"Where is the entrance?" Caym asked.
"A-at the back of the building. You can pass through the kitchen. B-but why are you asking, Sir?"
Caym raised his hand and motioned his index and middle finger up and down. Instead heading to the exit, he headed to the hallway leading to the back.
The children watched him in confusion.
"Is he going there?"
"Do you know older sister Diane?"
"We haven't seen sister in a while."
"Alright, let's talk about that later, kids. Let's go see a doctor first, then we'll get something to eat," Hector interrupted and herded the children while watched as Caym disappeared into a corner.
Caym's footsteps echoed heavily in the narrow hallway of the small orphanage. The building, though modest in size, contained numerous rooms. While the children's living spaces occupied the upper floor, the caretakers' rooms were situated below.
His gaze fell upon a plain door, its knob slightly faded compared to the others. Without hesitation, Caym turned and kicked the door down with a swift, forceful motion. The sound of splintering wood filled the air, mingling with a cry of pain that reverberated through the room and the surrounding hallways.
"Argh!"
A few feet from the fallen door, a man sat against the wall, clutching his bleeding nose. His face was ordinary, but his physique hinted at strength. Dressed like a commoner, a sharp dagger lay beside him.
Caym wasted no time, kicking the dagger aside and drawing his sword, positioning it menacingly at the man's throat.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
The man, grimacing in pain, spat out a curse. "What is it to you, you lunatic?" He struggled to move away from the blade.
With a sudden, deliberate step, Caym applied pressure to the man's knee, eliciting another agonized cry. "Argh! You crazy bastard! What do you think you're doing?"
"I do not like repeating myself," Caym though, his expression stern as he intensified the pressure on the man's knee.
"Argh! Stop! I'm just here to take some kids! Somebody told me no one is guarding this place, okay? Argh! Lift your damn foot!" the man shouted, desperation lacing his voice. "Let me—"
Before the man could finish his plea, Caym moved away abruptly, kicking him to the side. In the same instant, two knives embedded themselves into the wall just above where the man's head had been moments before.
Caym pivoted toward the broken door, his sword ready, just as a figure cloaked in black emerged, brandishing two swords. Caym instinctively blocked the assassin's continuous attacks.
The figure, revealed to have a small stature, resembled that of a woman. Despite her seemingly small frame, her movements were swift and precise, indicating a high level of skill and agility.
"Ugh, what the hell," the man groaned, nursing his head that had struck the floor. His face drained of color as he saw Caym and the mysterious figure. "Oh, shit! What the hell!"
Seizing the momentary distraction, Caym kicked the assassin's stomach, the latter staggering backward, gasping for air. The impact knocked the wind out of the assassin, momentarily incapacitating them.
The assassin attempted to flee, but Caym blocked her way with his sword. In a desperate move, the assassin shifted her attention to the man on the floor and swiftly pulled a knife similar to the ones embedded in the wall.
Caym, reacting with lightning reflexes, managed to block her attack with his hand, preventing the blade from finding its mark. He seized the woman's wrist, crushing her hand in a tight grip.
"Agh!" the assassin yelled, her brows contorted in pain through her mask. She uttered words in a language Caym couldn't comprehend, but he paid no heed. With a forceful motion, he flung the assassin against the wall by her hands.
"Oh, shit! Shit!" the man panicked, scrambling away from the intense struggle between Caym and the mysterious assailant.
The assassin struggled to her feet, her arms trembling from the ordeal. She fixed a venomous glare on Caym and muttered words he couldn't comprehend, but within the foreign incantation, a single word sounded familiar.
"Glozarnu zentora Logaria!"
Caym's eyes widened in realization. Before he could make a move to grab the assassin, she abruptly plunged a silver needle into her own neck. He knelt to check the assassin's neck, but in a matter of seconds, her body went completely limp.
"I initially believed the dressmaker was only targeting the Ásján princess, but now, another assassin appears, mentioning Logaria. The clues are aligning fast, but that is the problem. It is almost as if they are being handed by a mastermind," he thought. "Perhaps they never intended for these assassins to succeed. All of these women as pawns."
Turning away from the lifeless assassin, Caym's gaze fell upon the shocked man cowering behind the bed, his eyes bloodshot with fear and confusion.
"If you leave this room, I will find you and cut off both of your feet," he warned before walking to the door.