The man groaned weakly as he regained his senses, his vision still hazy. The rough rope biting into his wrists reminded him instantly of his capture. He blinked, scanning the environment—the inn's wooden floor under him, the warm glow of lantern light casting long shadows.
Klyden was the first sight that greeted him. He sat on a chair tilted dangerously backward, legs spread wide, attempting to balance a stick on his pursed lips. Every so often, the stick wobbled, and his eyes crossed to keep track of it.
Ashborne leaned silently against a wall, arms crossed, unreadable as ever. Liora, by contrast, lounged across from Klyden, her long legs stretched over another chair as if the room was her private parlor. At a nearby table, Keiya and Reiyell sat, both looking unmistakably bored—like they'd rather be anywhere else than here.
Then memories struck the man—flashes of the fight, his comrades falling one by one, the shadows swallowing them. His stomach twisted.
"Oh! He's awake." Liora's voice chimed as she smiled in his direction.
Reiyell's gaze flicked toward him. Keiya's brow lifted lazily. Ashborne didn't move. Klyden, of course, didn't even notice—too focused on his stick, tongue poking out as though that helped his balance.
The man flinched and crawled back until his spine hit the counter behind him. Liora rose from her seat, sauntered over, then crouched before him gracefully, legs neatly together, head tilted. Her mismatched eyes—one green, one red—studied him.
"You're right, Your Highness," she said smoothly, turning her head slightly toward Reiyell. "He doesn't smell like the one from the previous town."
The man froze at the word Highness. His panicked gaze darted to Reiyell—those eyes. That unmistakable indicolite color. Royalty. He swallowed hard, biting his lip to stop himself from trembling.
"J-just… who are you people?" he stammered.
No one answered. Liora rose and walked back to her chair, crossing her legs elegantly.
"Hey—I asked a q-question," he pushed, voice cracking. Sweat slicked his palms where they strained against the rope.
Keiya arched a brow, her tone sharp and dismissive. "You're the captive here. Do you really think you have the right to ask?"
The man's throat tightened.
"Oh right!" Liora cut in with bright cheer, as though she'd remembered a party game. She leaned forward slightly. "Tell us your name."
His lips parted, hesitation flickering. He considered lying—but if royalty truly stood among them, then lying might be the worst crime he could commit.
"I am… Mikael Truss," he muttered, gaze lowering.
Footsteps approached. Wads entered, calm and steady, his presence heavier than anyone else's. "I just sent a letter to Kaizer," he said, then sat at an empty chair directly across from Mikael. Those deep brown eyes locked onto him—unassuming at first glance, yet suffocating the more Mikael tried to look away.
"You." Wads' voice was quiet but carried weight. "Why do you have that tattoo?" His gaze flicked at the scorpion branded into Mikael's skin.
Mikael swallowed, throat dry. For some reason, he felt… compelled. Words slid from his mouth almost without his will. "It's… a mark of our little group." His eyes stayed locked with Wads', trapped.
"Since when?"
"Since… since we were kids. A sign of our brotherhood."
The air was still. Wads leaned forward slightly. "Do you know the drug called Tres?"
Mikael stiffened. "…No. I do not."
For the briefest moment, Wads' pupils widened. Then his expression reset, calm once more.
"Do you perhaps know anything about the dam?"
Mikael struggled to hold that gaze—his lips twitched, his eyes watered, but still, he answered. "Another group… arrived four months ago. They… paid us to let the barrels through the dam. Gold every time."
"Do you know what's inside the barrels?"
"I—no… they never told us." The words tumbled out, and the instant Wads finally broke the eye contact, Mikael gasped violently, sucking in air like he'd been drowning.
"I didn't know you could do mind control," Liora teased lightly, her grin feline.
Klyden dropped his stick and leaned forward, eyes sparkling like a child at a magic show. "That's so cooool! Can you do that on me? No—wait—don't! Actually, yes! No—wait—"
Keiya sighed, rubbing her temple.
Mikael was still wheezing, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. Keiya glanced at him with cold disdain. "I understand why they never told them. Compared to the men from the last town, this group looks dumb."
Wads exhaled slowly. "We leave tomorrow morning." He stood and gave Ashborne a nod.
Ashborne pushed off the wall, shadows rippling beneath his boots. He walked toward Mikael, and the darkness on the floor seemed to thicken. Mikael's eyes widened in panic as his body sank into the shadow like quicksand.
"W-wait! What's—what's happening?!" His voice was strangled with terror before the shadow swallowed him whole.
The room was silent for a beat.
"I'm hungryyy," Klyden whined suddenly, as if nothing happened.
"You're always hungry," Keiya muttered, finally rising from her chair.
"Better than being always grumpy," Klyden shot back, earning a napkin flicked square at his face from Keiya. He yelped dramatically, pretending he'd been wounded.
Wads ignored them, turning instead to Liora. "Check the dam's flow."
"On it." Liora gave him a small salute and sauntered out with a smile, clearly amused at the chaos.
Wads remained still, brows drawn. If they were right, the enemy was using the dam's flow to transport goods unseen. That meant someone with a water element was involved—powerful enough to bend the current itself. Dangerous. Their enemies' numbers and abilities were still unknown, and they were walking blind into a trap.
Too blind.
How they would handle the next town would decide if they lived long enough to see another.