The chapter opens with Lumen and Niori following the bartender to the back of the bar. The atmosphere is stifling, the air thick with the smell of mold. Dim lighting reveals worn walls and dusty bottles lined up on old wooden shelves.
Bartender:"Forgive me… folks around here can get a bit… edgy when it comes to this topic."
Lumen frowns, suspicion clear in his gaze.
Lumen:"Edgy? Why's that?"
The bartender takes a deep breath, as if about to unveil a dark secret.
Bartender:"Our kingdom's been through tough times. People are on edge, scared… One wrong word can spark mistrust or even violence."
Lumen:"And what's that got to do with Renzo?"
The bartender hesitates, his eyes scanning the floor before meeting Lumen's.
Bartender:"Renzo… he's the leader of a resistance faction against the current king."
Lumen:"Against Namu? What happened to him?"
Silence hangs heavy for a moment, thick with tension.
Bartender:"Namu's dead. The throne was taken by his second son… a tyrant who's turned our lives into a living hell."
The revelation hits Lumen like a blow, his expression hardening as he processes the news. Memories of more peaceful times clash with the disbelief of the present.
Bartender:"Renzo formed a group to fight this new king. But the royal army's been hunting his members mercilessly. Still, many respect and protect him, despite the risks."
Niori:"And where are they now?"
The bartender shakes his head, his trembling hands betraying the fear he tries to hide.
Bartender:"The base's location is a closely guarded secret. Only faction members know."
Lumen:"I see. Thanks for the information, and we're sorry about the situation."
Bartender:"Thank you… I hope this ends soon."
Lumen and Niori return to the main bar, but before they reach the exit, jarring, chaotic sounds erupt from the saloon. They exchange a glance and rush to investigate.
What greets them is pure chaos. The once-murmuring, laughter-filled saloon is now a battlefield. Royal guards, their armor glinting under the lamps, clash with enraged civilians. Tables and chairs are overturned, shards of glass litter the floor. The air is heavy with the stench of sweat, alcohol, and blood.
Lumen quickly assesses the situation. Using his Divine Art here would be disastrous. The confined space, packed with people, would turn any attack into a catastrophe. He draws his twin swords, their blades reflecting the flickering light of the swaying lamps.
Two guards charge, swords raised. Lumen, with precise movements, blocks their attacks, one blade in each hand. The clash of metal echoes through the saloon. Niori, at his side, dodges nimbly and counters, striking the guards' chests and pushing them back. They stagger but quickly recover.
A third guard slips between them, swinging at Niori, grazing her clothing. He turns to Lumen, but Lumen deftly deflects the blow and drives his sword into the man's armor. The blade pierces with a dry snap, and Lumen finishes with a kick that topples the next approaching guard.
The first two guards, now warier, rise. One sneaks behind Lumen. Niori, sensing the danger, moves to intercept. She lacks the strength to fully stop the blow, but then feels that familiar warmth—a sharp chill coursing through her body, stronger than before. It channels into her hand and strikes the guard, knocking him out with an intensity that surprises even her.
The onlookers' eyes turn to Niori, some in shock, others in fear. Lumen, gauging the rising risk, grabs her arm and pulls her toward the exit. They run, escaping down the nearest road as the sounds of battle fade behind them.
The narrative shifts to Leonhart, scouting the terrain around the campsite. The cold wind carries the scent of wet earth and dry leaves, whispering secrets as he moves. Each step is calculated, his eyes sharp for any overlooked detail. He mentally maps routes to the palace and possible escape paths, the landscape unfolding like a puzzle to solve.
Yet his mind keeps drifting to Genesis. Uncertainty gnaws at him, and he replays recent events, searching for logic.
What was Genesis doing at such a major forge?Leonhart wonders. If he's after the library, why wander there?
He presses on, eventually finding a hidden passage among the foliage. The path seems almost forgotten, moss coating the stones, dry branches tangled on the ground. The silence is near-tangible, broken only by the distant hum of relentless work at the forge.
Leonhart crouches, brushing aside leaves for a better view. In the distance, the forge's steady glow lights the night like a far-off star. But something's off. No smoke rises to the sky, no sign of fire fueling those intense flames.
A chill runs down his spine. Cold sweat beads on his face as his breathing quickens. His eyes widen as the truth begins to dawn.
What if…
The scene shifts to Izumi and Takeru at an isolated spot near the cathedral, setting up tents under the dim twilight. Darkness creeps in slowly, bringing a dense, profound silence, broken only by rustling leaves. The quiet is shattered by Takeru's voice, laced with uncertainty.
Takeru:"Hey, you think we'll pull this off?"
Izumi:"What?"
Takeru:"You think we'll manage to free these people?"
The scene shows Takeru, his face tense, worry etched in his features as he organizes camp supplies.
Izumi:"Sure, these cultists shouldn't give us much trouble."
Takeru:"It's not them I'm talking about… they're weak. I'm worried this will all happen again. What's to stop these people from suffering more?"
Izumi pauses, his hands stilling as he considers his response. His eyes lift to the sky, where the first stars begin to twinkle.
Izumi:"There's no way to guarantee that…"
Takeru waits silently, his gaze holding quiet hope.
Izumi:"The world isn't ours to control, Takeru. We can't dictate what happens next, only what we do now. We're too young to act old, worrying about every step we take."
Takeru reflects on Izumi's words, feeling a weight lift. He lets out a sigh, a mix of relief and acceptance, and stands, a faint smile breaking through.
Takeru:(smiling lightly) "I'm gonna grab some firewood… It's getting chilly."
The scene fades, returning to Lumen and Niori, now walking along a dirt road, their silhouettes bathed in the pale light of a crescent moon. The distant clatter of hooves on the ground signals an approaching cart. Spotting it, Niori waves for the driver to stop.
Niori:"Hey! Excuse me! Do you know which way to the royal palace?"
The driver, an elderly man, pulls the reins, halting the cart. He eyes them cautiously, sizing them up before answering.
Driver:"Follow this road, and you'll hit the city's commercial district. From there, take the main road. Ask for directions along the way, and you'll get there. It's about a day's walk."
Lumen nods, grateful, his gaze steady on the driver.
Lumen:"Not too far. Thanks for the info."
Suddenly, a noise from the cart breaks the calm. What seemed like mere covered goods begins to stir, and a voice emerges from the pile.
Mysterious Voice:"Hold on… no way…"
A man rises from the blankets, shaking off dust. His long white hair falls back, save for a stubborn strand over his face, his round, thin glasses glinting in the moonlight. A wide, surprised grin spreads across his face as he recognizes who stands before him.
Man:"It's you!"
Lumen, caught off guard, widens his eyes at the unexpected figure.
Lumen:"Renzo!"
The scene returns to Izumi, now alone at the camp, finishing preparations amid the growing dark. He hears a sound in the distance, his focus locking onto shadowy figures moving stealthily toward the cathedral. His eyes narrow as he realizes they're carrying something—a child. Without hesitation, Izumi resolves to act. Determined to save the child, he rises, abandoning the camp and advancing silently toward the cathedral.
The chapter ends with Izumi infiltrating the cathedral, his determination burning brightly against the darkness.