Outside the Shaman's Hall, two guards stood on either side, their attention drifting with the increasingly oppressive sound of the rain. For a moment, they were lost in reverie.
Their posts were the most tranquil of all, with the vast expanse of military tents before them and the unmoving corpses behind them. Not far off, hidden sentinels crouched behind their shelters. Aside from the occasional appearance of a shaman, there were few to be seen, and their vigilance inevitably slackened.
Suddenly, the guard on the left felt a sharp pang of unease. Turning to his left, he saw nothing but the vast, impenetrable darkness.
Without warning, the tungsten steel dagger melded seamlessly with the night, sinking perfectly into his throat and severing his trachea with a sharp, jarring impact. His body lurched uncontrollably to the right, unable to utter a sound.
The guard on the right instinctively raised a hand in defense, catching sight of blood droplets tracing a line through the air, his pupils widening in terror. He opened his mouth, attempting to send a warning to the distant watch.
A dark, blood-soaked shadow lunged, striking swiftly and disabling the guard's temporal and jaw joints. A slender hand wound around his neck, two fingers biting into his throat like the jaws of an alligator, snapping his windpipe with a sickening crunch.
The guard collapsed, like a puppet with its strings cut, his body unresponsive to his will. As death loomed, he could only curse the sentinels as worthless scoundrels in his final thoughts.
He would never know that mere moments earlier, the sentinel who had fallen before him had harbored the same bitter curse against him.
Kino released his grip and glanced back at the hall.
For someone like Kino, with a tendency towards cleanliness, the notion of hiding within the body of a fallen comrade was repulsive, even to an ordinary person.
Yet, there was no other option. His movements were restricted by the highest authority, unable to escape with Paladins and the others to a nearby town, and the arrival of reinforcements was uncertain. His only choice was to embrace death and infiltrate the enemy camp.
Hiding in a corpse was the only way to evade the outer patrols.
Kino wiped his hands on the dead man's clothes, tightened his grip on the tungsten steel dagger, and sprinted into the downpour.
The Shaman's Hall was located deep within the heart of the nomadic camp. The location of the main tent of the Dadan tribe was still unknown and could only be sought out by exploration.
Along the way, the nomadic tents sprawled in disarray, varied in type—livestock pens, grain stores, rest tents, supply tents, and more. They appeared haphazard, devoid of order, yet their arrangement was intentional, each tent positioned to cover another. Watchmen gazed upon one another from the vantage points, guarding without pause, leaving no gaps in the perimeter.
To Kino's trained eyes, however, this defense was nothing but a disheveled mess. In the near-zero visibility of the rainy night, the tents became the perfect accomplices to the operator's craft.
...
A leather water bottle floated through the stagnant water, drawing the attention of a guard at the grain tent. He muttered curses about the inconsiderate person who had tossed it carelessly, not fearing the wrath of the quartermaster.
As he bent down to retrieve it, a blood-red shadow appeared behind him. The tungsten steel dagger caressed the side of his throat, and death descended with eerie quiet.
...
A sentry hummed a desert ballad, unbothered by the potential exposure. He knew the light song would be swallowed by the torrential rain.
A faint sound pierced his mind, disrupting his melody. The noise reminded him of the sharp twang of a huqin, evoking images of snow-like sand and a crescent moon.
The tungsten steel dagger was pulled from his temple, spraying crimson mist.
...
A sentry, bored and listless, wondered aloud: "Why isn't the other sentinel singing anymore?"
Before he could ask further, a crossbow bolt tore through his neck from behind, his body falling like a waltzing partner in an intricate Vienna dance.
...
In the rest area, a woman stood by an infant's cradle, gently rocking it.
Normally, the child would have long been asleep by now, but tonight, his eyes remained wide open, silent and unmoving, refusing to sleep.
She gazed at the pure innocence in his eyes, her face soft with affection.
Without warning, the curtain flew open.
The woman turned around to see rainwater swept in by the wind. She hurried to her feet, fastening the ties to prevent the rain from wetting the child.
As she turned back, she was struck by the sudden presence of a crimson figure, drenched through, but the blood on him was not washed away by the rain.
The woman was about to scream, but slender fingers clamped around her throat, silencing her. The other hand, holding a dagger, rose to her lips, signaling for silence.
The woman's breath became erratic as she nodded in terror.
The tungsten steel dagger gently pressed against the infant's ribs, and Kino released his grip on the woman's throat. "I'm feeling quite nauseous and in a terrible mood. If you scream, he dies immediately."
Terrified, the woman sobbed quietly, "I won't scream. Please, spare my child..."
Kino: "In the military rules of the nomads, no woman other than Dadan's wife is allowed within the camp. So, are you the woman of Danwule?"
"Yes, I am..."
"Where is Danwule?"
The woman hesitated at first, but seeing the dagger so close to the infant's ribs, she cried, "The tents have no fixed positions, but wherever you see a wolf's head hanging, that is his main tent..."
Kino: "Thank you."
The woman trembled, drained of color: "Can you spare me? I can't bear to leave my child motherless..."
Kino: "That depends on one thing—did you see me?"
She quickly shook her head. "I didn't see you, I saw nothing! I've never seen you before!"
"You know full well you're lying."
"Sorry..."
"So?"
"I... I saw you..."
"Oh~"
With a swift motion, the tungsten steel dagger sliced through her throat, the cut deep and smooth, nearly imperceptible.
Blood bubbled from her throat as she collapsed, her hands clutching Kino's sleeve in desperation. Her eyes, filled with helpless pleading, seemed to beg him to spare the innocent life of the child.
She received no answer before her life slipped away with the blood that drained from her.
After the woman fell, Kino approached the cradle, looking down at the infant.
The baby, seeing the stranger, puckered his lips, on the verge of crying.
"Shh—" Kino placed a finger to his lips, whispering softly, "Let's play a game."
"Clink." A silver crescent moon appeared, landing on his palm.
Kino: "King or laurel?"
The infant babbled, "Aba aba aba~"
"Alright, you're too young to speak. I'll make the choice for you." Kino thought for a moment and said, "King."
With that, he lifted his hand.
The back of his hand, bathed in the divine light of Emperor Gourland I, radiated unmatched mercy.
"Good luck, little one." Kino put away the crescent moon, exchanged 1 point of respect for a pacifier infused with milk crystal essence, and gently placed it in the baby's mouth to stifle the cries, before turning and leaving.
...
"Boom—"
The sound of thunder rang in Danwule's ears, pulling him from his deep slumber.
He looked toward the curtain, wondering which guard had been careless enough to forget securing the ties. The curtain flapped violently in the wind.
The storm outside showed no sign of abating, only intensifying. The lightning streaked across the sky, bright as daylight, casting occasional flashes of light into the tent.
He thought, I'll just pull the curtain shut.
Even if it doesn't block out the thunder, perhaps the darkness will ease the pain in my right eye, and I can sleep until morning.
He walked over to close the curtain and secure the ties, preparing to return to sleep.
Just as he turned, a flash of lightning illuminated a face so near, it startled him. The features were so perfectly sculpted they sent a chill down his spine, a visage that even the world's greatest artists could never reproduce. His amber eyes shimmered in the lightning, radiating an otherworldly, almost divine beauty.
"Fuck!!!" The ghostly figure that appeared behind him made Danwule scream, waking the entire camp.