Night hung over the Imperial capital.
From the rooftop of an abandoned building far from the outer wall, two figures stood in silence. In the distance, the city's towers loomed like giant phantoms beneath the pale moonlight.
Satgas sat at the edge of the roof, his eyes scanning the dark landscape. Gultor stood behind him, leaning casually against a rusted iron pole, his usual lazy smile never quite reaching honesty.
Light footsteps echoed behind them. A masked informant emerged from the shadows.
"Report," he said softly, but clearly. "Lady Selen… has been defeated. The one responsible… is the Frost Queen."
Silence. A moment that felt like minutes.
"…What?" Satgas murmured, his voice barely audible.
Gultor scoffed, lifting his head. "We've been too focused on Majoris…"
"And the Frost Queen fired her arrow right at our throat," Satgas continued quietly, finishing the thought.
Gultor frowned, then turned to his companion. "So… what's our next move?"
Satgas didn't respond immediately. He stood slowly, dust falling from his dark cloak. His eyes stared toward the city walls, as if he could see through the distance and spot the Frost Queen standing beyond.
"It's unwise to hunt someone… when we ourselves are being hunted from behind," he finally said.
Gultor let out a quiet chuckle. "Heh. You're right."
Suddenly, Satgas pointed sharply at the informant. "You."
The man straightened. "Yes, sir."
"Bring me as much information as you can on Shina Mariposa. Everything you can find."
Gultor raised an eyebrow. "Shina? You're planning to…?"
Satgas turned, a thin smile touching his usually cold face.
"If we want to bring down the Frost Queen, we'll need another distraction. Something that can divert the Empire's strength… and trap the remaining rats."
Gultor laughed quietly, this time with a darker tone. "Hahaha… Now this is more like us."
And once again, the night sank into silence—but tension lingered in the air, like a blade yet to be drawn, waiting for its moment.
---
The small village lay peacefully under the dim morning sky,
not far from the outer walls of the Imperial capital. Though none of them—Canis, Aron, or Easton—had ever set foot here before, their steps held no hesitation. The dirt road turning to stone led them into the village's heart.
"This place is busier than I expected," Easton murmured, his eyes sweeping over the crowd in the village's street market.
Canis didn't reply. His gaze moved across every vendor, every pile of goods, and every unfamiliar face. There was a reason why a place this small could be so lively—it was strategically located. An ideal stop for merchants before entering the capital gates.
Aron slowed down, eyes fixed on a small cart letting off an enticing aroma. Skewers of goat meat, hot and sweetly fragrant, were lined up and grilled over glowing coals.
"Wait a sec…" he said quickly.
Canis and Easton exchanged glances, then nodded slightly. A few minutes later, the three of them were walking again, each with a skewer in hand.
"I swear, this kid's from a rich family," Easton joked, chewing happily. "No wonder he can treat us like this."
Canis simply nodded. "Seems so."
Easton leaned closer and whispered, "If we keep sticking with him, we might never need side gigs to eat."
"Be quiet and look ahead," Canis replied flatly—though there was a subtle curve at the corner of his lips, almost a smile.
Suddenly, a boy around ten came running from the opposite direction and—thump!—crashed straight into Canis's stomach. The child fell on his backside but sprang up quickly, bowing deeply with his right hand over his chest.
"Sorry, sir!" he said quickly before darting away into the crowd.
Canis turned his head in the direction the boy had vanished, his brow furrowed. A few seconds later, an old man in a luxurious coat—too luxurious for such a humble village—hurried past them. His eyes scanned left and right, as if searching for something… or someone.
Canis's eyes hardened. Not because the man looked suspicious—but because something inside him, an old instinct that had saved him countless times, rang an alarm.
He asked himself: Was that man chasing the boy?
And if so…
Why?
---
The boy was cornered in a quiet alley, breathing heavily.
He didn't know where to go. A stone wall loomed ahead of him. And the old man now stood just a few steps away.
"Stupid little orphan," the man spat. "All I wanted was to know where that pretty girl lives. I'm going to marry her and give you a good life. But you ran?"
The boy looked up, eyes blazing. "Princess isn't that kind of person! She's our big sister and our mother! She adopted us, took care of us—I won't let you hurt her!"
The old man stepped forward, intent on striking the boy.
But as his arm rose, he suddenly froze.
Someone had gripped the collar of his coat—firmly—with one hand.
"You talk too much for someone your age," said a deep voice.
The boy looked up. A tall figure in a black cloak stood before him, eyes cold. He didn't know this man… but something about him—his calm, terrifying presence—left the boy frozen.
Without warning, Canis hurled the old man into the wall. A loud crack echoed. The man fell, groaning, unable to rise.
The boy stared at the fallen man. His chest rose and fell, but not from fear—rather from confusion and shock.
Then he turned to the tall figure beside him. Their eyes met.
"…You're the one I ran into at the market," he said softly, as if just realizing it. Then, respectfully, he raised his right hand and placed it over his chest. "Thank you so much, sir."
Canis stared at him for a moment, then sighed. Suddenly, his hand moved to the boy's head, ruffling his hair roughly. A small smile appeared on the edge of his lips—rare, but genuine.
"A polite kid like you must've been raised well by your parents."
The boy shook his head. "I… don't have parents."
Canis turned fully. "Orphan?"
The boy nodded. "My name's Bastian. I live in a house given by 'Princess'. She saved us… the orphans in this village."
Canis raised an eyebrow. "Princess?"
Bastian beamed. "It's our nickname for her. She's beautiful… and amazing. We all call her that."
"She sounds like a remarkable person," Canis commented, standing tall again.
"Of course! After all, she's a soldier!"
Canis's eyes narrowed slightly. No change in expression, just that same calm mask returning to his face. But inside, something stirred.
"What's this 'Princess's' real name?" he asked, his tone casual—almost too calm.
"Her name is Shina! Shina Mariposa."
Canis said nothing for a few seconds. His face remained still, his demeanor cool. But inside, memories began to slowly spin… and that name carved into something long dormant.
He turned and lightly patted Bastian on the shoulder.
"You should get home before that old man wakes up and causes more trouble."
Bastian nodded quickly. "Yes, sir! Thanks again—so much!"
He ran off down the narrow alley, leaving Canis standing alone in silence. The afternoon wind blew gently, and the sound of the market echoed from afar.
Canis remained still, gazing in the direction the boy had gone.
{Chapter 22}