As Rohan and Edmund made their way south, Rohan paused and began praying to the Storm God. He wanted to send a request, asking the god to deliver a message to Arminius. And the message was simple: meet him inside the city and help.
With Tiara and Diana no longer by his side, Rohan knew he needed an extra layer of protection. He didn't want to face whoever the Lastbender family sent after him without additional layer of protection. He knew Edmund was strong, but he was not as strong as Arminius.
Naturally, Edmund noticed Rohan praying beside him. But he ignored it.
After finishing his prayer, Rohan turned to Edmund.
"We wait," he said. "Arminius is coming."
Edmund's expression tightened as he looked at Rohan. "Let me get this straight," he said, his voice low and controlled. "You called him here. Now. For this."
Rohan met his gaze calmly. "We might need him."
"No. No, we don't need him," Edmund replied. "We're investigating. That's all. Not charging into a battlefield, not picking a fight we don't even understand yet."
He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing.
"And Arminius?" Edmund continued. "He doesn't walk into places quietly. He's a vampire. He draws attention. The kind you don't just shake off."
"You bring him in, and suddenly this isn't subtle anymore. This becomes a statement."
After a moment, Rohan spoke. "Didn't you act immediately against the slave traders? What makes this operation any different?"
"It's different," Edmund said, his voice calm but firm.
"The situation's different. Back then, the environment and the circumstances allowed me to act immediately. I had what I needed. Control. Position. Leverage."
He paused briefly, then added, "If I hadn't found vampires strong enough to use, I would've pulled the entire operation back."
Edmund's gaze remained locked onto Rohan. "That's the difference. I don't act because I can. I act because the conditions are right."
"And right now… they aren't."
Afterward, Edmund urged Rohan to enter a nearby tavern so they could speak in detail.
And Rohan had no objection to that.
A few minutes later, they found a modest tavern tucked between two worn stone buildings. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ale and roasted meat. Low murmurs filled the room as a handful of patrons sat scattered around rough wooden tables.
They took a seat in a quiet corner and ordered food and drinks.
Without waiting for anything to arrive, Edmund continued.
"Let me tell you about the Light People, the indigenous group Sollo currently leads."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice measured.
"They're not like the slave traders. Not necessarily evil. If anything, they're oppressed. By the city. By the Octavian family."
"So no, I don't expect this to turn into a fight. Not immediately. And I doubt Sollo's personally tied to the shadow cult. At most, he might have some indirect connection to someone influential within it."
Rohan leaned back in his chair, studying him. "Isn't Sollo supposed to be an ultranationalist leading an aggressive group?"
Edmund exhaled softly. "It's propaganda spread by the Octavian family."
"I've heard the rumors," he continued. "And if they're even partly true, Sollo is… a decent man. Someone who actually cares about his people."
Rohan frowned. "Why would the Octavian family spread something like that?"
"How would I know? It doesn't matter to us," Edmund said firmly.
Rohan nodded. "If you're right, and he's the kind of man who wants to protect his people, he might be exactly the kind who wouldn't hesitate to make a deal with the devil."
Edmund went quiet. Then a faint smile formed. "You're not wrong," he said softly.
"But you're not seeing the whole board."
He leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Rohan's.
"Yeah, a man like that might make a deal with the devil," Edmund continued. "Out of desperation. Out of necessity."
His voice sharpened slightly.
"But that doesn't make him the problem."
"That makes him a symptom. If Sollo's reaching into the dark, then something in the dark is reaching back," he said. "Something with more power. More intent."
His fingers tapped the table once. "And that," Edmund added, quieter now, "is where the real threat is."
He sat back, completely composed.
"So no," he said. "We don't rush toward Sollo like he's the enemy."
"Instead, we let him lead us… to the one who actually matters."
Rohan, sensing there was no point in pushing the argument further, decided to change the subject.
"Alright," he said. "Let's leave it at that for now. We can talk about it again once we have more information."
Just then, the waitress arrived, setting down their drinks. Rohan paused for a moment before speaking again.
"Where's your friend?"
"Augustus?" Edmund let out a quiet sigh.
"The same reason I don't want Arminius with us," he continued, his tone dry. "Augustus has a talent for drawing attention. The wrong kind."
He picked up his drink but didn't sip it yet.
"And trust me," Edmund added, glancing at Rohan, "he doesn't just attract attention."
"He becomes it."
Rohan nodded. "Still, I need Arminius. I told you before, I've got a conflict with the Lastbender family. Arminius would be an extra layer of protection against them."
Edmund shook his head. "Then you should walk away from this," he said flatly.
Rohan's eyes narrowed slightly while Edmund met his gaze.
"If your priority is protection, then this is the wrong place to be," he continued. "You don't hedge your safety by stepping into something uncertain and hoping it behaves."
He finally took a sip of his drink. "You go to David. You hunt Gherman. You pick the fight you might actually understand."
Rohan went silent for a while. But just as he was about to respond, a sudden scream tore through the street outside.
Without delay, Rohan and Edmund, along with many patrons inside the tavern, moved toward the door. The low murmur of conversation gave way to the creak of wood and the chill of the outside air as they stepped into the street.
Across the road, a woman knelt in the dirt, crying uncontrollably, her hands trembling as they clawed at the ground. It drew the attention of more people from nearby shops and alleys.
As more people gathered and guards eventually arrived, it was revealed that she had found her ten-year-old son dead in his room.
To Rohan, death itself was not unusual, considering how often people died. Still, he felt a pang of regret that such an innocent child had been taken.
Beside him, Edmund murmured, "That makes the tenth this month."
Rohan turned to him. "What do you mean?"
"In the past month, children around the age of ten, mostly boys, have been dying mysteriously. Found hanged in their own rooms."
Rohan's expression twisted with horror. "That is not normal," he said, barely containing his shock.
"I know," Edmund replied quietly. "But it is not our business. Let the authorities do their job, and we do ours."
After that, Rohan fell silent for a moment. Then both of them returned to the tavern, finished their food and drinks, then paid.
But when Rohan stepped outside, he instantly froze.
Standing there was a man who looked exactly like him.
His hair was jet black, falling to neck length in slightly messy, natural layers. The ends faded subtly into a muted golden tint.
His eyes were a calm, clear blue. His face was slender with soft, refined features.
His skin was pale with a smooth, porcelain-like tone.
The man caught sight of Rohan and Edmund before he grinned.