Part 1
A few weeks after the successful infiltration, the early dawn was shattered by sharp knocks at the front door.
Yamato groaned from his room, staying in character as Junya Mori down to the most annoying details. He came out barefoot, disheveled, dragging his feet like someone who had slept three hours—poorly.
He opened the door with zero enthusiasm.
A squad of five soldiers stood there, lined up, but visibly tense. The highest-ranking one swallowed hard.
"S-sorry to disturb you, Mr. Mori. We have direct orders from General Balliard."
Yamato squinted, as if the light bothered him more than the soldiers' presence.
"What the hell do you want this early? Don't you guys have anything better to do?"
"I-I'm not exactly sure, sir. But they say... there's an urgent matter."
The cadet's voice shook. Junya's reputation for punching soldiers who woke him without reason was practically a sacred legend among the newbies.
"That rotten old man again..." Yamato muttered, spitting to the side. "How important can it be to screw with my sleep?"
No one answered.
"Tch... fine. Wait outside."
He slammed the door shut without bothering to hear their response. When he returned to the living room, his expression changed.
The fake sleepiness vanished, and his eyes became those of the Void: cold, analytical.
"Trouble, Balliard...? You're about to find out what real trouble looks like," he murmured.
Moments later, still in the gloom of dawn, Yamato entered the general's office. The air smelled of tension and suppressed sweat. Several junior officers stepped aside as he walked in.
But it wasn't Balliard who caught his attention.
It was them.
The other two who were missing.
Nanami Chiba. The gal beast-tamer. Always wearing dark shades, diva posture, and a tacit contempt for anything that didn't move under her command.
Yui Kamishiro. The prodigy mechanic. Or at least that's what they called her. Creator of gadgets, electric barriers, and cowardly excuses. She had admired Rei… but when the time came to speak, she chose silence.
Yamato looked at them expressionlessly. But inside, the judgment had already begun.
"I was having an excellent night with my companions, Balliard. This better be worth the interruption."
For the first time since arriving at Arkenfel, the general ignored the comment. He leaned over a map spread across the central table and began marking points with a magic pen.
"Still as vulgar as ever, Junya. Why don't you shut your mouth? It's too early for your nonsense," Nanami snapped without looking up, fixing her makeup with a small handheld mirror.
"Oh look, someone hired a blonde clown. Whose birthday is it?" Yamato shot back with his signature insolent grin.
The slam on the table shook the room. Balliard had raised his voice.
"Silence! This is an important meeting. We're not here to play."
Everyone straightened up. None had ever seen the general this tense. Not even the heroes.
He pointed at a spot on the map.
"Last night, one of our patrols didn't return from the night watch."
"So what? They're probably drunk at some tavern… considering how pathetic your soldiers are," Yamato sneered.
The air grew heavier. The officers lowered their gaze, silently bearing the humiliation.
"That would be a possibility," Balliard admitted, rubbing his chin. "The problem is, they're not the only unit..."
He slid his finger to the edge of the map. The forest.
"This week, five supply convoys have vanished. Without a trace."
"Twelve rounds of patrols were found… torn apart. Like wild animals ripped them to pieces," he added, staring directly at Nanami.
"What are you implying?" the beast-tamer snapped, dropping her mirror. "You think this is my fault?"
"I'm just saying the creatures must've been abnormally strong. And you've been handling entities you can't always control."
Yui, who had remained silent until now, spoke up cautiously.
"Now that you mention it... a few weeks ago I found the bodies of several adventurers. They were torn to shreds. At that time, Nanami was assigned to the Fairy Forest."
"Are you saying it was me?!" Nanami stood up, furious.
"I'm not saying anything. Just noticing patterns," Yui replied, her tone calm and even.
Balliard turned back to the map.
"The important thing is, the next food convoy arrives tomorrow. And what's left of the supplies... is being rationed strictly for the nobility."
He walked over to the window. The city was still asleep, but the tension in the air was thick.
"Even the troops have reduced rations. If this continues... the people will revolt. And if internal order collapses, Arkenfel won't be a stronghold. It'll be a graveyard."
"Then…" Yui said, crossing her arms, "Are we officially on attack alert?"
Before anyone could respond, the door burst open.
A soldier rushed in, panting, his armor soaked with sweat.
"General Balliard! We have a situation! You need to see this—right now!"
Balliard turned sharply, brow furrowed.
"What happened?"
The soldier swallowed hard, visibly shaken.
"It's… the church's holy cleric. The High Devout. You'd better come to the square and see for yourself…"
When they arrived at the main square, a crowd of citizens stood around the center, their faces dark and silent. No one spoke. No one moved.
"What the hell is going on? Move!" Balliard roared, shoving people aside.
What he saw made him stop cold.
Even Sanae, who had joined them with her usual disdain, instantly doubled over and vomited on the stone pavement.
The cleric was tied to a black wooden cross, arms outstretched, chest split open, his face frozen in a scream that had never finished.
His innards were scattered on the ground, forming a broken circle. Blood poured in steady streams, feeding a symbol carved into the stone with blades.
And on his chest, pinned by a curved dagger, a single handwritten note:
"Their lies will come to light."
Balliard ripped the note off, rage burning in his eyes.
And then it happened.
The body convulsed once.
And burst into black flames.
A fire with no smoke, no spark, no source. The flames devoured the remains within seconds, leaving nothing but ash—ash that didn't stir in the wind.
"Did anyone see anything?!" Balliard bellowed at the crowd. "Who did this?!"
No one answered.
Not a single whisper.
But their eyes said everything.
The people weren't afraid. They were furious.
As if a silent revolution had begun.
As if, finally... someone had spoken for them.