Rhys stepped out of the manor with Riva beside him. They had barely reached the training grounds when the synchronized shouts of soldiers rang through the air—loud, powerful cries that echoed with every swing of steel.
The two of them passed through the wide, doorless entrance and stepped into a large courtyard bathed in bright sunlight.
The training ground was paved with smooth, pale stones, their surfaces worn and polished by years of relentless drills and countless sparring matches. Tall stone walls surrounded the yard, and along the edges hung rows of training weapons—practice swords, spears, and both wooden and metal shields arranged in careful order.
More than a hundred soldiers stood in disciplined rows.
At the same time, they raised their swords.
At the same time, they struck forward.
The sharp sound of blades slicing through the air echoed across the yard as their movements repeated again and again with mechanical precision.
Standing at the center of the training ground was a man in his late forties, maybe close to fifty. His arms were folded across his chest as he watched the soldiers train.
Suddenly, his booming voice cut through the noise.
"Harder, you useless lot! Swing like your damn lives depend on it!"
At that moment, his eyes drifted toward the entrance.
Then he spotted Rhys.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise.
"Whoa… Lord Rhys? What brings you here?"
He started walking toward them.
But when his gaze shifted to Riva standing just behind Rhys, the corner of his mouth slowly curled upward, forming a crooked, unpleasant smile.
Rhys stopped in front of him. His posture was straight, yet the empty, emotionless look in his eyes carried no hint of calm. Fixing his gaze directly on Wil, he spoke in a cold voice.
"Commander Wil… I wanted to ask something. Are you really going to accompany me to the dungeon?"
Riva had already noticed the heavy, lingering way Wil's eyes slid over her. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Without thinking, she took a step back and moved behind Rhys, hiding herself in his shadow as if it were the only safe place left.
Wil's gaze returned to Rhys. The crooked smile on his face slowly faded when he saw the seriousness in Rhys's expression and the chill in his eyes.
For a brief moment, he paused.
"What brings you here, Lord Rhys?"
Rhys let out a quiet sigh—one that carried more exhaustion, resignation, and distrust than simple fatigue.
"I came to confirm something… whether you're really going to stand by me during the dungeon raid."
Wil suddenly burst into laughter.
"Haha! So that's what this is about."
He waved a hand casually and continued in a confident tone.
"Relax. I'll be there. The First Unit's vice-commander is coming too, along with three of our best men."
Then something seemed to cross his mind. His laughter faded slightly, and he asked more casually,
"By the way… is anyone else joining us? Did you talk to the Second or Third Unit?"
Rhys slowly shook his head.
"No. The Third Unit is responsible for the city's defense—they're not allowed to leave. The Second Unit won't move without their commander, and no one seems to know where he's gone."
He paused for a moment before finishing,
"And honestly… I doubt anyone would volunteer for a mission like this."
A faint trace of bitterness slipped into his voice as he added,
"So… it'll just be the six of us."
Wil listened to Rhys's words, then placed a fist over his chest and let out a confident laugh.
"Don't worry, Lord Rhys. We'll protect you— even if it costs us our lives."
But the words seemed to have no effect on Rhys at all. His gaze didn't soften, nor did the tension leave his face. He simply gave a small nod.
"…Then I'll be counting on you."
Without waiting for a reply, Rhys turned and began walking away from the training grounds.
Wil called out after him, his crooked smile laced with mockery.
"Thank you for putting your trust in us, Lord Rhys. We won't disappoint you."
But his eyes were no longer on Rhys.
From behind, his gaze slid toward Riva—slow, sly, and shameless. His eyes lingered over her figure. He ran his tongue across his lips, moistening them as a dark thought crossed his mind.
' My sweet little mouse… you'll be mine soon enough.
After that, I can do whatever I want with you.
Once this mission is over… we'll see each other again.'
Wil was still lost in those thoughts when a man stepped closer.
"Commander… I don't have a good feeling about this mission."
Hearing the voice, Wil turned around and burst into carefree laughter. He slapped the man hard on the side.
"I told you already, Anab. Stop worrying so much. Nothing's gonna happen."
Then he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping into a greedy whisper.
"A chance like this only knocks once. With the money we'll get from this job, we'll be able to live however we want."
Wil still wore that same grin.
But Anab—the vice commander of the First Unit—kept staring at Rhys and Riva as they slowly walked away from the training grounds.
Doubt and unease filled his eyes.
He exhaled quietly and muttered under his breath,
"…I don't know. I'm not sure this was the right decision."
Riva stopped the moment they stepped out of the training grounds.
Rhys had already walked a few steps ahead, but when the sound of her footsteps suddenly disappeared, he turned back.
Riva was standing frozen where she was, staring at him with eyes filled with worry and sadness.
"…What is it?" Rhys asked, slightly puzzled. "Why did you stop?"
Riva's lips trembled before she spoke, her voice unsteady.
"Rhys… I don't trust Commander Wil at all. Who knows what kind of scheme he's hiding."
She stepped closer, desperation clear in her eyes.
"Please… talk to Duke Jinf again and cancel this mission. And if you can't—"
Her voice tightened.
"—then let's just run away. Let's go somewhere far away… somewhere none of them can ever find us."
She hadn't even finished speaking when Rhys frowned.
"You're starting this again?"
His voice turned cold and firm.
"I already told you. No matter what happens, I'm taking this mission."
Without another word, he turned away and started walking toward his room.
But suddenly, Riva ran forward and grabbed his wrist tightly. This time, her voice burst out—anger tangled with fear.
"You stubborn idiot! Why are you being so reckless?"
Her grip tightened.
"If you're so desperate to go, then at least ask someone for help. I'm not letting you walk into that mission alone with them."
Rhys's patience finally snapped. He turned back sharply, anger flashing across his face.
"You know better than anyone that there's no one I can ask for help! So stop it with these pointless arguments."
Riva fell silent.
She knew he was right—and that truth hurt far more than any words.
Rhys was about to continue walking when her voice called out again. This time it was calmer, but firm.
"…Talk to the Adventurers' Guild."
Rhys paused.
"Yes… talk to them," she continued quickly. "Ask them for help. They're all strong, and hunting monsters is literally their job."
A bitter laugh escaped Rhys.
"Help? From the Adventurers' Guild?"
He shook his head.
"You know exactly what kind of reputation my family has in this city. No one there would even bother looking at us."
But Riva refused to give up. Her lips trembled, and her voice cracked.
"But still… please go.Even if the chance is less than one percent… just try once. Maybe… maybe a miracle will happen. Maybe someone will agree to help you.
If you won't run away with me… and you're determined to go on this cursed mission… then at least do this much.That's… the only thing I'm asking for."
Rhys looked into Riva's tear-filled eyes. The concern and affection in them tightened something deep inside his chest.
A heavy sigh escaped him as he muttered inwardly,
'You idiot… I guess you'll never change.'
He exhaled slowly and finally spoke.
"…Fine."
Riva's eyes widened, tears spilling over.
"Thank you… thank you for agreeing."
Her voice trembled as she spoke, relief and gratitude overflowing in every word.