Maple watched as the artificer's body slowly glowed, before coalescing a small blue shard that glimmered like fish scales.
He reached down and plucked it from the pool of blood, wiping it on the man's clothes before pocketing it.
Settling himself at the bar, Maple poured a generous cup of stellarian bourbon, swirling it thoughtfully.
He raised the bloody glass, pressing it to his lips, indifferent to the red smears it left behind.
There's a mole at Blackstone? He narrowed his eyes, taking another sip. Or did Bella follow him this morning?
Worst case, it's both. He clenched the glass. How else would those Sleeping Forest rats have found Cassy so fast?
Refilling his cup, Maple took a long, absentminded sip, his thoughts spiraling. No, none of this makes sense.
First those twins. Now that I think about it, I never collected their seeds of descent.
"Tch." He ran his hand over the ring embedded on his finger, the metal cool against his skin.
They can't be this incompetent. I'm missing something. They went after me on a guess, and I killed both members.
Took the knife. Surprising, sure, but why keep coming after Cassy? It's like they've caught the scent of the regalia...
He drained his glass and grabbed the bottle, heading for the door. Blood still smeared his hands and lips, though his clothes had been spared.
Even so, people crossing the street avoided him, some murmuring in shock. One woman let out a shrill scream at the sight of him, her face a mask of terror.
I can't be that scary, can I? Maple gave her a half-hearted smile, mimicking Cassy's usual charm. She screamed louder, rushing away, her shouts echoing down the street.
"Tch." He muttered under his breath, "Never been the popular one."
Everyone who's seen the regalia's power met their end at our hands. So where did the information leak?
Lost in thought, he stepped into the office building, strolling through the lobby without a care.
Rochelle glanced up from her desk, her expression darkening the instant she saw him.
"Cassy?! What in gods' name?"
Maple shot her a devilish grin. "Just took out some trash, Rochelle. Don't mind me. I'll be gone soon."
He sauntered past her, tossing a playful glance over his shoulder. Rochelle's expression shifted from shock to a flicker of fear, catching the edge of his look.
Knock knock.
Maple didn't wait for the captain to answer; he swung the door open and stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind him.
He sat down across from the captain, who merely looked him over, showing no sign of surprise.
"What happened, Cassy? Are you alright?" Concern laced the captain's voice.
Without a word, Maple reached into his jacket, pulled out his revolver, and pointed it straight at the captain.
"Don't call me that," he growled. "Listen, captain, I've got questions. I need answers. Do you understand?"
The captain raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the barrel aimed at him. He gave a measured sigh, seeming almost amused.
"You can put the gun down, Maple. I'm more than willing to answer your questions."
Maple's lips curled into a twisted smile, a faint, sinister laugh slipping out. "Why is the Sleeping Forest so intent on pursuing me?"
The captain sighed, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. "So that's what happened. Is my son alright? And the runt?"
"I got them out safely," Maple snapped, impatience seeping through. "Now answer the damn question."
The captain took a slow sip, his gaze steady. "I don't know, Maple. Their actions have been... unusual. Highly disproportionate, to be sure. Your question also clears up a few of my own. So, you suspect me? You think I leaked your information?"
"There are only a few people who know enough to cause this much trouble," Maple replied coldly.
"Maple," the captain said, carefully packing tobacco into his pipe. "Put the toy down. While I understand your plight, you need to choose your battles more wisely."
Despite himself, Maple felt a sliver of respect for the man—a stubborn, quiet admiration for someone who had taken care of him and Cassy.
He lowered the gun reluctantly. "You know without me saying, don't you? So? Am I meant to just wait for my death?"
The captain met his gaze, his expression serious. "We haven't known each other long, but I hope you trust me when I say I have easier ways of making you disappear than a convoluted plot like this."
Maple considered this, his tension easing slightly. The captain was right. As head of the Crow Cohort, he was a powerful descender, easily capable of disposing of Maple himself.
Why go through all this trouble?
"Good," the captain continued, noting Maple's shift. "Thank you for helping my family, Maple. I'm truly grateful.
Now, since we're having a civilized conversation, speak freely. I think you're holding back."
"Cassy was followed, almost immediately after he left the office. When he got to the bar, an artificer attacked him. I took him out, though I might've left the place a bit messy."
"So, you're saying you suspect an internal leak?" the captain asked, eyes narrowing.
"That's right," Maple replied. "The only other possibility is the female operative who slipped away during my first mission."
The captain frowned. "You mean to tell me you suspect an emissary of the Goddess over a mere cultist from the Sleeping Forest? You trust her?"
Maple shrugged. "I do. Well, Cassy does, anyway."
"Very well," the captain said, his tone practical. "Clean yourself up in the washroom and head home. Act like everything is normal. I'll personally stand vigil over your residence tonight, and I'll bring Henry along as well. Useless in a fight, but he's the most trustworthy man here."
He paused, puffing on his pipe, before adding with a slight edge, "I'll forgive you this time, for my son's sake. But if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I'll have you in an asylum before you can blink. Understood?"
Maple's lips tightened, but he nodded. "Understood, captain."