The carriage rattled rhythmically against the stone-carved road, its wheels tracing a path well-worn by centuries of travel. This was the Imperial Road—a sprawling stone network connecting the great cities of the realm to the beating heart of the Capital.

  ?For generations, it had served lords and merchants alike, a constant companion through an ever-changing world.

  ?Inside the carriage, emblazoned with the Silver Eagle of Viremont, sat Vivianne. She gazed out the window, though her silver eyes—cold as northern frost—saw nothing of the passing landscape. Her mind was miles away, trapped in the memory of her father’s study just before her departure.

  ?The memory was sharp, etched in her mind like a blade’s edge. She had knocked and entered to find Sylas sitting at his massive oak desk, a monolith of grim authority beneath the dim candlelight.

  ?“I heard you called for me, Father.”

  ?He did not look up immediately. He let the silence stretch, heavy and suffocating, before drawing a single sheet of paper from a drawer. He slid it across the polished wood.

  ?“Check this list.”

  ?Vivianne approached, her gloved fingers tracing the names. Each one represented a vassal house—a cog in the vast Viremont machine.

  ?“I trust you remember our conversation, Vivianne. I want you to visit the ones on this list, starting with Lyveria.”

  ?“Lyveria?” Her voice was sharp, analytical. “Are you suspecting Count Valerien?”

  ?“For now, it is merely speculation,” Sylas rumbled, his gaze finally meeting hers. His eyes were like two pits of obsidian. “But it is a thread I will not leave tangled. You will find more details on the back. Do not disappoint me.”

  ?His voice had been a low rumble of command. She had lowered her eyes, taking a slow, steadying breath.

  ?It doesn't matter if Count Valerien is plotting something, she thought now, the carriage jolting over a stone. What truly matters is that I am being kept away from the main house.

  ?The carriage finally jolted to a halt, pulling her from her thoughts. The door swung open, and a man in Valerien livery knelt before her, head bowed in deep reverence.

  ?“We have been waiting for you, Lady Vivianne.”

  ?He extended a hand to assist her, but Vivianne descended on her own, ignoring the gesture as if it were nothing more than part of the scenery. She adjusted her cloak, her eyes scanning the gates of Lyveria.

  ?Still, a flicker of annoyance crossed her mind. These visits could be more problematic than she had originally anticipated.

  ?The damp chill of a cellar hung in the air, thick with the smell of stale ale, dust, and raw fear. As the man’s eyes fluttered open, a gruff, bored voice cut through the haze.

  ?“Waking up, are we?”

  ?A dull throb pulsed behind the man’s eyes. He tried to speak, but only a weak, pathetic groan escaped his dry throat.

  ?“Get up. I barely touched you.”

  ?When his vision finally cleared, he saw an old man sitting across from him. The stranger wore simple traveler’s clothes, but there was a dangerous stillness about him—like a coiled predator waiting for a reason to strike. A wry, chilling smirk played on the old man’s lips.

  ?“Don’t be a crybaby now, will you?”

  ?Panic surged through the prisoner as he realized his wrists and ankles were tightly bound to the wooden chair.

  ?“Wh-what is this? Let me go!”

  ?“Calm down,” the old man said, his tone deceptively casual. “I’m just going to ask a few questions.”

  ?“Questions? What questions? I don't know anything!”

  ?“First, I want to hear why you tried to kidnap Aelira.”

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  ?“Aelira?” The man blinked, genuine confusion in his eyes. The name meant nothing to him.

  ?In a blur of motion, the old man was upon him—a calloused hand gripping his collar, yanking him forward until their faces were mere inches apart. Zaek raised a scarred fist.

  ?“Don’t play games with me. I’m talking about the girl you took from the inn.”

  ?“Sorry! Please, don’t hit me!” the man whimpered, shrinking back from the raw fury in the old warrior’s eyes.

  ?Seeing the pure terror he had inspired, Zaek released him with a grunt of disgust and returned to his seat. “Now. Talk.”

  ?“There’s nothing to tell! The girl… she looked like a noble, she had that hair... so I thought—”

  ?“You thought what?” Zaek pressed, his voice dangerously low.

  ?“We thought we could blackmail her family! They’d pay a fortune for their precious daughter, wouldn’t they? It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  ?“And if they didn’t?”

  ?“Well…” The man hesitated, his voice taking on a cruel, desperate edge. “We could have sold her as a slave. A silver-haired girl like that... she would’ve fetched a gold price in the underground.”

  ?“Do you have any idea who she is?” Zaek asked, his voice becoming eerily quiet. “Do you even know who I am?”

  ?The man stared at Zaek for a long moment, then spat with a burst of false bravado. “Don’t brag about your position, you old bastard. You’re just another noble’s dog.”

  ?The old man’s smile vanished. “Aelira Viremont.”

  ?The name hung in the air—cold and heavy as a tombstone. Viremont. The color drained from the man’s face instantly. A cold dread, sharp and absolute, pierced through his chest.

  ?It can’t be… I must have misheard.

  ?“And I,” the old man continued, leaning forward into the flickering lantern light, “am Zaek Evarard.”

  ?The man’s mind reeled. His gaze darted over the old warrior’s weathered face, searching for any sign of a lie—but he found only a chilling, absolute certainty.

  ?Zaek Evarard. The Hero. The one who slew a high demon.

  ?A panicked, broken laugh escaped the prisoner. I messed with a living legend… and the Viremonts?

  ?“I-I’m sure we can talk about this!” he pleaded, his voice trembling so hard his teeth chattered. “Look, I didn’t know! I swear! I just thought she was some minor marquis’s daughter, or—”

  ?“Or what?” Zaek cut in, his voice like ice. “Is that your excuse for kidnapping a child?”

  ?Against Zaek’s unblinking gaze, the man finally crumbled. Sweat dripped down his temples as he slumped in the chair, unable to meet the Hero's eyes.

  ?“…Relax,” Zaek said, the menace in his tone giving way to a dark, mocking amusement. “I’m not going to kill you. I just told you all that because I wanted you to shit yourself. Like you are doing now.”

  ?The man looked up, seeing that the killing intent had faded, and a wave of pathetic relief washed over him.

  ?“Now, for my second question,” Zaek said, his expression hardening again. “Are you behind these kidnapping rumors?”

  ?“Huh?”

  ?“The missing people the townsfolk whisper about. Is that your work? Answer me, and think carefully.”

  ?“N-no! I swear on my life, we have nothing to do with those rumors!”

  ?Zaek studied him, his gaze sharp enough to cut through stone.

  ?“I’m telling the truth! We’re not kidnappers by trade. We’re just opportunistic scum! We saw you two, saw the girl’s hair, and… we planned the whole thing when you were eating.”

  ?“Oh. So you planned this before we even set foot in your inn.”

  ?“Yes…” the man admitted, his head hanging in shame.

  ?What a scumbag, Zaek thought. But at least he sounded honest now. The petty greed of a small-town crook was easier to deal with than the grand conspiracies of the Capital.

  ?“You’re lucky she’s with me,” Zaek said, slowly getting to his feet. “Otherwise, you’d have never seen another sunrise.”

  ?Seeing the old hero rise, the man cried out in panic. “W-what are you—”

  ?The image of Zaek’s fist filling his vision was the last thing he saw before the world went black.

  ?When Zaek emerged from the cellar, he found Aelira sitting on a wooden crate, her eyes closed and her fists clenched in deep concentration.

  ?This kid… she’s training her mana, even after all that.

  ?He chuckled quietly to himself and stepped closer, the dry grass crunching under his boots.

  ?“Is it done?” she asked, opening her eyes.

  ?“Yeah. I got what I needed. We’ll inform the local guards, and that’ll be the end of it. These guys were just small-time idiots.”

  ?“I see…”

  ?“What’s wrong? You look like you’re trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.”

  ?“I don’t understand…” she murmured, her brows furrowing. “I just can’t understand. Why are they so obsessed with money? They would hurt someone… sell someone… just for coins?”

  ?Zaek paused. He could have brushed this off with a simple answer about greed, but he knew that would be a disservice to her growth.

  ?“Well,” he said slowly, leaning against the barn wall. “It’s not really possible for people to truly understand one another—especially when their lives and circumstances are as different as yours and theirs.”

  ?“So you’re telling me I’ll never understand them?”

  ?“For true, perfect understanding? No,” he admitted. “You’ll never fully understand what it’s like to be that desperate, or that hollow. And they'll never understand you.”

  ?Aelira’s shoulders slumped, a shadow of disappointment crossing her face.

  ?“But,” Zaek added, his tone softening as he looked at her. “If you keep trying to understand them—really trying—you’ll get closer. You’ll see the patterns. That’s just how the world works, kid.”

  ?Her eyes widened slightly, a faint light of hope flickering within them.

  ?Zaek chuckled again and reached out to pat her head, messing up her silver hair. “It’s too early to despair. sen daha yolun ba??ndas?n. You’ve got a long life ahead of you to figure people out.”

  ?Aelira managed a faint, genuine smile. “Big words for someone who let his student get kidnapped in the first place, Sensei.”

  ?This kid…

  ?Zaek couldn’t help but grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You might have a point there.”

  ?The two walked forward together, side by side, leaving the dark barn behind as the first light of dawn began to bleed over the horizon.