Having obtained the answer he sought, Yuder escorted the three who had eaten their fill to a proper guest room, a stark contrast to their previous meager accommodations.
"They claimed everything else had been burnt down, and only that storage-like room was left. But that was a blatant lie," Gakane grumbled.
"I know, right? There's no trace of smoke, and everything here seems perfectly fine!" Jimmy added, equally outraged.
Listening to their complaints, Yuder turned his gaze toward the window. From his vantage point, he could see most of the Hartan territory stretched out below.
The small fiefdom, which should have been picturesque and peaceful, instead bore dark, blackened scars under the sunlight, evidence of the devastation it had endured.
'They said there were hardly any casualties, didn't they?'
Nahan had indeed claimed as much, yet seeing the village still marred by the remnants of a fire made him question the validity of that statement.
'Of all the people I've encountered here, Zakail Hartan is the most suspicious.'
Yuder turned away from the window, recalling the conversation he had just had with Zakail Hartan. While Zakail had agreed to his requests after hearing Kishiar's name, his reluctance was palpable.
If Zakail had anything to fear, it would have been an outsider from the capital poking into the village's affairs. Yet Zakail didn't seem particularly disturbed by that. His prideful demeanor and inability to mask his emotions only added to Yuder's suspicions.
Yuder had even intentionally disrupted Zakail's composure, allowing his companions to display a deliberate lack of manners during their meal to gauge his reaction. Despite this, Zakail had remained composed, reinforcing a single conclusion: he was confident that no matter what Yuder and the Cavalry did, his secret would remain safe.
But not everything in the world goes according to plan, Yuder, recalling the messenger pigeon that should have arrived in the capital by now. With that thought, he began formulating his next move.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Haha, this is the first time I've heard such nagging since the Emperor's passing. Seems I haven't gained much trust," Kishiar remarked, waving a letter with a slow, elegant smile.
Nathan Zuckerman, Kishiar's adjutant, furrowed his brows as he looked at the letter. "Who are you referring to?"
"Who else could it be?" Kishiar chuckled, gesturing lightly toward the letter.
"My assistant."
The letter had arrived just moments after Kishiar woke from his morning nap, delivered by a messenger pigeon from Hartan. The bird now sat contentedly on a small statue atop Kishiar's desk, preening its feathers as it sipped water directly from the Duke's hand.
"And what did he write to earn such a remark?"
"Curious, are you?"
"Why don't you see for yourself?" Kishiar offered, his tone light. "I'll make an exception for you, Nathan."
He handed the letter to his adjutant, who took it with a slight frown. As Nathan scanned the neat brown characters, his brows furrowed further.
"The ink... it's an unusual color,"
"It's not ink,"
"Excuse me?"
"Take a closer look. It's not written with ink; the letters are lightly burned onto the paper. Quite a skill, don't you think?"
Nathan rubbed the characters with his finger, noting that they didn't smudge. As Kishiar had said, the text hadn't been penned but seared into the paper with precision. The technique was astonishing—almost beyond belief.
"His rate of improvement is monstrous,"
Nathan Zuckerman, having achieved the pinnacle of Sword Mastery at a young age, knew the feat well. Sword Masters were revered for their unparalleled skill, those who could do anything with a sword. Yet even he found it daunting to imagine controlling the blade's power delicately enough to burn a letter onto a palm-sized piece of paper.
That Yuder Aile could do this with ease was both awe-inspiring and unsettling. His mastery over his strength was terrifying—enough to send a shiver down the spine of anyone who knew he was an ally. Nathan, avoiding his lord's amused gaze, refocused on the letter. Though the script was tiny, it was still legible.
As he read through the contents, his face twisted in confusion.
"Lord Hartan and his heir are already dead, and the member we need to rescue is imprisoned, awaiting execution for setting fire to a village... and now they've encountered a bandit group composed of Awakeners? Shouldn't we send more men?"
"He says he doesn't need them," Kishiar answer was direct.
" Despite all these troubles, He's confident he can resolve everything within three days, so he doesn't need more men."
"That's what he said. He specifically asked me to stay focused on the investigation of the Red Stone and not to forget about it."
"...He didn't phrase it quite so rudely, though," Nathan muttered, recalling the respectful wording of the letter. If you stripped away all the formalities one would find in a basic guide to letter writing, that was essentially the message conveyed in the latter half of the letter.
"Even if the missing member is still alive, how does he plan to save someone on the brink of execution? Shouldn't I go myself at this point?"
Kishiar his expression unbothered, as if he could read Yuder's thoughts, answered. "If the situation were urgent, he wouldn't be so calm. He would have asked us to charge in and deal with the consequences later, or he would've retreated and contacted us from a safe distance."
"But instead, he chose to stay, even naming the bandit leader he encountered. That means Yuder believes this person is extraordinary. I suspect it's a pseudonym, though… What do you think?"
"If it's a pseudonym, it's likely from the Southern Kingdom," Nathan said, his voice tinged with certainty.
"Yes. The name means 'revenge' in the Southern tongue, There's definitely intent behind it."
The Southern Kingdom was largely unknown to the empire, separated by an expanse of desert. However, both Nathan, who hailed from the South, and Kishiar, who had long been in his company, were more familiar with its language and culture than most.
The Southern Kingdom's customs, including naming conventions, were vastly different from those in the empire. A brief smile of intrigue flickered across Kishiar's face before vanishing.
"In any case, investigate the bandit group thoroughly. And dig deeper into Zakail Hartan, the youngest son of Lord Hartan, who now holds full authority over the fief."
Kishiar's tone remained casual as he rattled off additional tasks. But as his crimson eyes darkened, losing their usual warmth, his voice took on a steely edge.
"If there's no contact from Yuder after three days, Nathan, you know what to do. Take the seal and proceed as planned."
"Understood, sir."
"Even though one can quickly clear the garbage piled in front of them, no one knows what kind of mess might be lurking underneath,"
Nathan bowed his head in understanding, and Kishiar's expression shifted back to its usual relaxed ease.
"What about the mages? Didn't they mention needing assistance?"
"Not yet," Nathan replied. "They've spent the entire day writing and observing from a distance."
Kishiar had personally moved the Red Stone into the building's basement the previous day to aid the mages' investigation. The basement was vast and spacious, allowing the mages to maintain a safe distance from the stone's power while keeping all necessary equipment nearby. Since no one knew the space existed beneath the lodge, it was the perfect location for such a sensitive investigation.
After listening to Nathan's report, Kishiar nodded and leaned back deeply into his chair.
"Good. Caution is always a virtue. And the other members?"
"As usual, they're focused on their training. There's nothing you need to worry about."
"I see. Keep monitoring the situation."
Ending the conversation, Kishiar extended his hand toward Nathan. "Give me the report back."
Nathan silently handed the letter over, knowing his lord had likely memorized it already. Kishiar began to read the letter once more, perhaps examining it with fresh thoughts. To avoid disturbing him, Nathan withdrew quietly, his gaze shifting briefly to a scripture that was neatly organized on a nearby desk, then out toward the sky through the window.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Oh, well, I really don't know."
"The fire was such a big event... I can barely remember what happened that day."
"I don't know… I was too busy trying to protect my family."
With Zakail's permission, Yuder had ventured outside the castle to investigate the town. However, every villager he encountered was wary, avoiding him at every turn. When Yuder did manage to corner someone to ask about the fire, the responses were always the same: either they couldn't remember or they didn't know.
"It feels like we're a plague to them. They're avoiding us as if we're cursed, People are suspicious" Gakane muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he surveyed the empty streets. His usual charm, coupled with his handsome appearance, failed to break through the thick walls of suspicion surrounding the townspeople.
People fled at the mere sight of him, creating a trail of retreating figures in his wake. Gakane Volunwald had probably experienced such a reaction only a handful of times in his life.
"It wasn't always like this, was it?" Yuder asked Nahan, who had been following them silently. Nahan responded with a faint smile and a casual shrug.
"Not to this extent. It seems the lord must have given an order."
"What do we do now?" Jimmy asked, his voice tinged with worry as he glanced around the increasingly deserted surroundings. "If they keep avoiding us like this, we won't get any answers."
Yuder turned to look at Jimmy, noticing for the first time how flushed his cheeks were. The boy's pallor had worsened, and perhaps due to the chill of the morning or lack of proper rest, he looked unwell.
Noticing this, Yuder placed the back of his hand lightly on Jimmy's forehead.
"Uh, Yuder? What are you doing?" Jimmy asked, startled.
"You've got a bit of a fever."
"A fever?"