Her Highness

A grand celebration engulfed the kingdom.

The newly inaugurated king stood before his people, bathed in the golden glow of lanterns and fireworks.

Laughter, cheers, and the clinking of goblets filled the air.

But from the shadowed heights of a distant tower, a predator lay in wait.

A sniper, had his crosshairs locked onto the king's head.

His orders were clear—eliminate the king. The contract was sealed by the losing candidate, a desperate move to reclaim what had slipped through his fingers.

"One shot, then I'm out of here," the sniper muttered.

He exhaled slowly, finger tightening on the trigger.

Bang!

A bullet cut through the blue sky.

But it wasn't the king's head that burst open.

It was the sniper's.

His body slumped against the cold steel of the rifle, blood trickling onto the rooftop.

From a nearby balcony, I flicked away the still-smoking casing of my own bullet and read the request slip once more.

"Protect the king from assassins."

We are Venganza—a mercenary group. No morals, no hesitation.

We do the job if the pay is right. And today, the king was our client.

In the heart of the celebration, Murphy casually navigated the crowded streets.

The man had the air of someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which, ironically, made him the perfect bait.

A thug bumped into him—one of the remaining assassins.

"Watch where the hell you're walking!" the man snarled, shoving Murphy.

Murphy stumbled, meeting the assassin's gaze with an apologetic smile. "My bad."

Then he stepped aside.

A second later, the assassin's foot caught on nothing. He stumbled—then fell hard onto the cobblestone.

Murphy watched with a lazy grin as Zack loomed over the assassin's twitching body.

Without a word, Zack drove his boot into the man's ribs, forcing a pained gasp from his lips.

Before the assassin could react, Zack crouched, pressing a needle into his neck.

The man's body stiffened—then fell limp.

Zack exhaled, wiping his knife clean against his sleeve.

His eyes flickered toward the bustling celebration. "Four left."

Amidst the grand banquet, the king raised his goblet, his voice carrying over the lively chatter of noble guests.

"Thank you all. As I have sworn, I will see to it that the unfinished matters of the previous king are resolved."

Applause rippled through the hall, but not everyone was celebrating.

A man standing behind the king downed his drink in a single gulp, his grip tightening around the goblet before he set it down with deliberate care.

His eyes gleamed with cold intent.

Silently, he slipped a knife from his sleeve and lunged—But his body locked up mid-motion.

His muscles refused to move, his vision blurring as an eerie numbness spread through him.

Shlkk!

A clawed hand, furred and monstrous, erupted through his chest from behind.

Blood splattered onto the polished floor as Lycaon pulled his transformed arm free, his red eyes glowing in the dim light.

He let the assassin's body slump forward, catching it effortlessly before it could make a sound.

"Cathy's paralysis potion works like a charm, huh?" Lycaon muttered, hoisting the corpse over his shoulder.

He carried the lifeless body through a side door, moving through the darkened alley behind the banquet hall.

With a grunt, he tossed the corpse into a pile of trash.

"Ugh… it smells awful..." Cathy grimaced, wrinkling her nose.

Lycaon rolled his shoulders, flexing his clawed fingers before they slowly morphed back into human hands. He shot her a glance.

"What were you even doing here?" he asked, his voice low.

Cathy just smirked. "Keeping you entertained."

Meanwhile, Arthur and Oris remained on high alert, scanning the place for any other would-be assassins.

Three men crouched behind a towering building, their breath uneven.

Panic laced their eyes as they whispered among themselves. Their comrade had vanished without a trace.

"Damn it… what the hell is happening?" one of them muttered.

They peered cautiously around the corner, scanning for danger.

Then they turned—

And froze.

Two women stood before them.

Chronia and Valeria.

The men instinctively reached for their weapons, but their bodies refused to obey.

Chronia sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Time Stop."

Their pupils shrank in horror. Their minds screamed, but their limbs remained locked in place—frozen in the very instant they had tried to strike.

Chronia pulled a small device from her belt and pressed the trigger.

Pshhh! A thick white smoke burst into the air, swallowing them in an instant.

From within the swirling fog, a single gleaming blade arced through the darkness.

A quiet schlkk filled the alley.

Then silence.

As the smoke cleared, Valeria stepped forward, without hesitation, she dragged the lifeless bodies aside, swiftly burying them beneath the cold earth.

From the rooftop of a nearby building, the Venganza members gathered, gazing down at the lavish royal celebration.

The golden glow of lanterns bathed the streets below, a stark contrast to the silent bloodshed that had just taken place.

I leaned against the railing, exhaling. "That's all of them."

Arthur nodded. "No backup. The job's done."

Cathy stretched, groaning. "Haa… we're getting paid a lot for this, right?! I better not be risking my life for free!"

Murphy shot her a smirk. "You sure love complaining, huh, Cathy?"

Cathy scowled. "Why do you keep calling me that?! Catherine is fine!"

Chronia chuckled, resting her chin in her hand. "Eh? But it sounds cuter."

Cathy's face turned a shade of red. "W-Well… if you say so…" she mumbled, averting her gaze.

Valeria broke the moment with a question. "So, after this party, we're meeting the queen, right?"

Lycaon folded his arms. "Not we—Arche is."

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, nine of us crowding in front of the queen would look suspicious. Better to send just one."

Zack tapped his knife against his palm. "Even so, someone should keep an eye on him."

"Don't worry. I'll handle it alone." I said.

"By the way, are you thinking of adding new members?" Oris asked.

I blinked at the sudden question. "Hm? 

For a moment, I considered it. More members meant more firepower, but also more complications. 

"Nah. We're fine as we are."

A groan came from Cathy, who clutched her head as if she were reliving a past mistake. 

"Ugh… we're up against a massive, terrifying organization… I really shouldn't have asked to join back then…" she mumbled, her face pale with regret. 

Chronia smirked, grabbing Cathy by the shoulders and shaking her. "Ah, Arche, you broke her!"

I rolled my eyes but let them bicker. Something else had caught my attention. 

A strange feeling. 

A presence. 

My gaze landed on a girl in the crowd—a blonde with slightly curled hair and striking green eyes. 

She was staring straight at me. 

Smiling. 

My body tensed. 

"Did she see us?"

Then—she nodded. 

A chill ran down my spine. 

It wasn't just that she had spotted us. It was the way she reacted. As if she had read my mind. 

Without looking away, I gave Chronia a subtle hand signal. 

She instantly understood. 

"Time Stop."

The entire place froze in an instant—laughter, music, movement—everything halted as if reality itself had been paused. 

A heartbeat later, time resumed. 

The girl blinked, her green eyes widening as she realized— 

We were gone. 

The house was empty, swallowed by the night. Flickering candlelight barely pushed back the darkness.

A woman sat alone, holding a lantern, waiting.

Waiting for me.

I leaned against the cold wall, letting the shadows swallow me whole.

She couldn't see my face from where I stood, but I could see her—clear as day.

"So… where's our pay?" My voice was low, indifferent.

She looked up, the glow of the lamp catching her features—a cruel beauty with a dangerous smile.

Her sharp eyes flickered with greed as she traced the outline of my silhouette in the dark.

"You don't want to show yourself? What's wrong, are you shy?" she teased, tilting her head.

I exhaled slowly. "Don't bother looking for me. Just put the money on the table."

Her smirk widened. My coldness didn't insult her. If anything, it entertained her.

"Ah, yes, of course." She sighed dramatically, standing up and walking over to the table with deliberate, graceful steps.

A soft clink echoed in the silence as she placed a small bag of coins on the polished wood.

I remained motionless. Watching.

"I'm curious," I finally spoke, my voice even. "Why would you rather pay criminals like us than the police?"

She turned, her movements smooth, confident. Lowering herself back into her chair, she crossed her legs and let a smirk tug at her lips.

Her eyes gleamed. "The police are useless. Nothing more than lazy, careless pigs."

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"They won't give me what I need… They can't do what I want."

Hearing her words, I understood immediately. "That means you're going to ask us to do something again, right?"

She chuckled, clearly pleased by my sharpness. "You catch on quickly," she mused, leaning back with a sly smile.

Her amusement was laced with something else—anticipation.

"Yes, I need you and your group to take on another job for me."

She tilted her head, watching me carefully. "This one might be… more 'dangerous' than the last."

I didn't flinch. "So? What's the deal?"

Her gaze flickered to the side, scanning the shadows as if to ensure no one was listening.

Then, in a hushed, almost conspiratorial whisper, she said:

"Kill the king… and make it look like an accident."

I raised an eyebrow. That was unexpected. "Your husband?"

She let out a bitter laugh—hollow and sharp. "He's no husband to me."

Her expression darkened, twisted with fury. "That man is a fool. A worthless insect that has held me back for years."

Her hand curled into a fist, nails digging into her palm.

"I want him dead. I want him gone so I can finally rule this kingdom the way it was meant to be ruled."

I exhaled slowly, watching her. Not surprised anymore. "Is that so? What a power-hungry woman."

Her gaze sharpened, cold and unyielding. "Power is everything in this world," she declared, her voice like ice.

"I will do whatever it takes to attain it. And if it means killing someone as worthless as my 'husband'… then that is a small price to pay."

Silence hung between us.

I closed my eyes for a moment, considering. Then, I took a slow, deep breath.

"Give me two weeks."

A small smirk played on her lips, her anger melting into satisfaction.

"Two weeks," she echoed, her voice laced with excitement.

"I'll expect the job to be done by then. Do you need access to the palace?"

"No need."

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Confident, aren't we? I like it."

Then, her gaze sharpened. "Just make sure there's no mess. The last thing I need is for suspicion to fall on me."

I was about to turn away, but something crossed my mind. "Tell me, do you know a girl with slightly curly blonde hair and green eyes?"

Her expression darkened in an instant. The amusement vanished, replaced by something colder. Her jaw tightened.

"What about her?" Her voice was sharp, guarded.

"Answer me." My tone was firm, unwavering.

For a moment, anger flickered in her eyes, but she swallowed it down, realizing it was wiser to comply.

"She's my daughter," she admitted, her voice clipped, controlled. "Why do you ask?"

So, she's the queen's daughter, huh?

I recalled the way the girl had looked straight at me before—how she knew we were there.

"Does she have any special abilities?" I pressed.

The queen's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into her gaze.

"Yes," she finally said, voice cautious. "She possesses extraordinary knowledge… and she's a genius in archery."

A prodigy, then.

"Are you willing to sell your daughter?"

The words left my lips without hesitation.

For a moment, the queen's expression shifted—surprise flickered across her face. But there was no anger. No outrage. Not even the faintest sign of hesitation.

Instead, her smile widened. It was a slow, creeping thing—twisted at the edges, as if savoring some private amusement.

"Sell her?" she repeated, her voice dripping with curiosity. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Her green eyes gleamed, reflecting the dim lantern light. She was enjoying this.

"What do you need my daughter for?"

I met her gaze, unflinching. "That's none of your business." My voice was steady, deliberate. "If I kill your husband, will you give her to me?"

Silence.

Then—her smile stretched wider, her amusement deepening.

"Yes," she murmured, her tone light but laced with a chilling certainty.

"If you can kill my husband, you may have my daughter."

She leaned forward slightly, her gaze sharp. "However—she's no ordinary child. You might find her... difficult to 'tame.'"

I barely even blinked. "No problem."

The queen let out a quiet chuckle before rising to her feet. The moonlight from the window outlined her silhouette, casting long shadows against the walls.

"Very well then," she said, her voice smooth and composed. She took one last look at me, her expression unreadable.

"You have two weeks."

She turned, walking toward the exit, her movements graceful, deliberate.

"Make sure my husband is dead."

A pause.

Then—she glanced over her shoulder, lips curling into a final smirk.

"Good luck, Venganza."

"But, I'm curious."

I spoke just as she was about to leave.

The queen halted mid-step, glancing back at me.

There was intrigue in her gaze—like a cat toying with a mouse.

"And what are you curious about, hm?" she mused, turning to fully face me.

I folded my arms. "Why did you hire us to protect your husband from assassins… only to ask us to kill him in the end?"

At that, the queen's smirk widened. She let out a soft chuckle, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's simple," she said smoothly.

Slowly, she stepped toward the exit, but not before casting a knowing glance in my direction.

"Killing him at such a crowded party would have caused a massive commotion."

I tilted my head slightly. "Oh."

She had a point.

The queen nodded, as if pleased by my quick understanding.

"Precisely." Her voice was almost playful.

"You handled the assassin so neatly that no one even noticed. That was exactly what I needed."

She turned away, her long gown swaying with her movement.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, her voice effortlessly cool.

She stepped into the shadows of the night, disappearing beyond the dim glow of the lanterns.

I let out a quiet breath, then walked over to the table, picking up the bag of coins.

Two weeks, huh?

I stepped out of the building, the night air cool against my skin. But the moment I opened the door, I froze.

A girl stood before me, dressed elegantly in a pristine white dress, a round hat adorning her golden curls.

Her sharp emerald eyes locked onto mine, and for a brief moment, I felt an odd sense of intimidation.

"Good evening, sir."

Her voice was refined, carrying a noble arrogance that instantly set her apart.

I narrowed my eyes. "Have you been eavesdropping?"

She let out a soft chuckle, taking a graceful step forward.

"Oh, please. Is that how you greet a lady of my standing?" Her lips curled into an amused smirk.

"I am Theresia. And for the record, my name is not 'Eavesdropping.'"

I raised an eyebrow. "Theresia...? You're the girl I saw this afternoon, right?"

She gave a small, satisfied nod.

"You're the daughter of the queen of this kingdom, aren't you?"

Her smile widened, eyes gleaming with pride.

"Ohohoho! But of course! I am the one and only daughter of the queen—the esteemed Lady Theresia of this kingdom!" She threw her head back in a classic noblewoman's laugh.

I sighed. "You must have heard what your mother said earlier, then?"

For a split second, her expression faltered. But the smile never fully left her face.

"Ah, you mean the part where she oh-so-graciously decided to assassinate my dear father and—oh, what was it again?—sell me off like some common trinket?"

I nodded. "Mhm."

Theresia rolled her eyes dramatically, sighing as if she were utterly exhausted by the mere thought.

"Honestly, must you look so shocked? I've long since accepted that my dear mother is nothing short of a bitch."

Her hand flicked in the air in a dismissive gesture before she placed it gracefully on her hip.

"But really, to offer me for such a pitifully low price? How insulting!"

I blinked. "Wait—you're more offended by the price than the fact that she tried to sell you?"

Theresia scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Naturally! Do you have any idea what I'm worth? A mere bag of gold? Absurd!" She twirled a strand of her golden hair between her fingers.

"At the very least, I should be worth a city—no, an entire kingdom! No—an entire country!"

She threw her head back with another extravagant Ohohoho!

I stared at her, utterly unsure of what to make of this girl.

What kind of person thinks like this?

Theresia's Curiosity

Theresia placed her hands on her hips, her emerald eyes locked onto mine.

There was an intensity in her gaze—curiosity mixed with something else.

"There's something I want to ask you."

"Just ask."

She lowered her arms, her previous arrogance momentarily replaced with thoughtfulness.

Her gaze drifted to the ground as if piecing together her thoughts.

"Why did you ask for two weeks?"

Her voice was softer, but still carried that noble elegance.

"I saw you and your people in action this afternoon. You moved so efficiently—like ghosts. No traces left behind."

Her fingers curled slightly.

"You could kill my father tomorrow—no, you could even do it now, couldn't you?"

I took a deep breath, clearing my mind. "I can't answer that."

"Eh—?!"

Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face before it quickly twisted into anger.

She took a sharp step closer, her presence overwhelming despite her smaller frame.

"What do you mean 'you can't answer that'?! Is it some kind of secret? Or is it because you don't trust me enough?"

I remained unfazed. "We just met. Do you think I'll believe you right away?"

"You...!"

Theresia went silent, her lips pressing together. She was thinking—strategizing, most likely.

Trying to find the best way to get what she wanted.

Then, after a pause, she lifted her chin, her expression now filled with fierce determination.

"Fine. Then answer this! Why do you want to buy me?!"

I sighed. "I knew you were eavesdropping."

There was no point denying it.

—That's because you can read minds, isn't it?

I thought those words. I didn't say them aloud. My lips never moved.

And yet—

Theresia's entire body tensed.

Her eyes widened, shock flashing across her face.

Then—she smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

"Ah…"

For a moment, Theresia looked genuinely shocked that I had seen through her ability.

But, as expected of a noblewoman, she quickly regained her composure, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in a show of practiced elegance.

"Is that so?" She let out a small chuckle, her smirk laced with amusement.

"To think you'd figure it out so quickly. Impressive. No one has ever discovered my power this fast."

I studied her expression, searching for any signs of deception. "Can you control whose mind you want to read?"

Her eyes widened slightly—just for a second—but then she smiled, a knowing and somewhat smug look crossing her face.

"Ohoho~! But of course!" she declared proudly.

"I have complete control over it. I can read people's thoughts whenever I please, and I can even read yours from quite the distance!"

"Oh? Is that so?"

I kept my face unreadable, letting my mind work through the possibilities.

Then, without hesitation, I thought of a way to attack her.

Instantly, Theresia's expression shifted—her muscles tensed, her eyes sharpened, and her feet adjusted ever so slightly into a defensive stance.

But before she could react—

Puff!

A smoke bomb exploded between us.

"Wha—!?"

Without missing a beat, I turned and sprinted into the darkness, my feet barely making a sound on the stone pavement.

From behind me, I could hear the sharp, frustrated voice of Theresia piercing through the night—

"Come back here, you coward!"

The moment I stepped into our base, all eyes turned to me.

"So? Where's the payment?"

Without a word, I tossed the bag of coins onto the table.

The sound of clinking metal filled the room as Valeria eagerly snatched it up, her fingers moving swiftly to count the money.

Meanwhile, I collapsed into the nearest chair, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a practiced flick.

Taking a deep inhale, I exhaled slowly before speaking.

"There's something I want to talk to you about."

That got their attention. Everyone turned toward me, their curiosity piqued.

I began explaining what had just happened. The queen's request. The assassination.

The part where she basically sold her own daughter like a piece of furniture.

The room fell into silence for a moment.

Then—

"Kill the king?!"

Murphy groaned, running a hand down his face. "Then why the hell did we go through all that trouble to protect him before!?"

"Yeah, Arche, why did you accept it?" Chronia asked, raising an eyebrow.

I leaned back in my chair, taking another drag from my cigarette. "Who said I accepted it?"

They blinked.

"I just said, 'Give us two weeks.'"

Murphy smacked his forehead. "So, what, we're just gonna sit around doing nothing?"

"We're going to wait and see," I replied simply. "For now, there's no need to take any drastic actions."

Lycaon crossed his arms. "And in the meantime?"

I stood up, stretching slightly. "Tomorrow night, Arthur and Murphy, you two are coming with me."

Arthur gave me a silent nod, while Murphy groaned dramatically. "Ugh, do I have to?"

"Yes."

Murphy muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further.

Oris narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you planning, Arche?"

I exhaled another puff of smoke. "Nothing much. I just wanted to say hello to someone."

The next night, Arthur, Murphy, and I perched on top of a tower, gazing down at the city bathed in moonlight.

"Let's go."

Pulling our hoods over our faces, we slipped into the night.

I took the lead, cigarette dangling from my lips as I ran through the streets.

Arthur and Murphy followed close behind, clearly confused.

"Where exactly are we going, Arche?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah, you dragged us out here without a single explanation," Murphy grumbled.

As we neared the palace, both of them suddenly tensed.

Arthur quickened his pace, his voice sharp. "Wait—you're not planning to kill him tonight, are you?!"

Murphy matched his speed, now flanking me on both sides.

I exhaled a puff of smoke. "Relax, I'm not that impulsive. I just want to meet someone."

We moved swiftly, sneaking past guards and slipping through the palace grounds with ease.

I took one last drag from my cigarette before flicking it away.

With a flick of my wrist, I fired a grappling hook toward a balcony above us. The mechanism whirred as it pulled me up effortlessly.

"See you up there."

Murphy clicked his tongue as he watched me ascend. "..He always tries to look cool."

Arthur and Murphy followed suit, climbing up after me. Once we were on the balcony, we crouched low, observing the dimly lit room beyond the curtains.

"We're basically stalkers now," Arthur muttered.

Murphy smirked. "Arche, be honest—are we here to steal women's panties?"

I shot him a deadpan look. "Weren't you the one who got caught doing that before?"

Murphy flinched. "That was an accident!"

Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shut up, both of you."

The door creaked open, revealing a girl in pajamas with messy bed hair.

We locked eyes. Silence stretched between us.

Then, without a word, she shut the door and—click—locked it.

Arthur, Murphy, and I exchanged glances.

"....."

Shuffling noises came from inside the room—frantic footsteps, rustling fabric, a muffled curse.

Moments later, the door swung open again.

This time, Theresia stood before us in a perfectly tailored, elegant dress, her hair neatly arranged, a composed smile gracing her lips.

It was as if the disheveled girl from earlier had never existed.

"Good evening," she greeted with refined poise. "What brings you gentlemen all the way up here?" Her eyes twinkled with curiosity.

"And how exactly did you get here?"

"Uh…" Arthur and Murphy collectively froze.

Murphy leaned closer. "Boss, what's the plan?"

Arthur tensed. "Isn't this kind of bad?"

I exhaled, shaking my head. "No, this is the person I came to meet." I turned to her, flashing a casual grin.

"Good evening, Theresia."

Her smile widened, her expression laced with amusement.

"Oh my, so you were expecting me?" She gave a slow, knowing smile.

"I must say, I never thought I'd be seeing you again so soon. And in the dead of night, no less."

She stepped aside, motioning us in.

Her room was as extravagant as expected—luxurious furniture, intricate chandeliers, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air.

"Ohohoho! So, do you all admire my exquisite taste?" Theresia twirled in place, arms wide, basking in the grandeur of her own room.

Murphy leaned closer to Arthur. "She's gonna be a pain, huh…" he muttered under his breath.

Theresia, either ignoring or not hearing him, turned back to us with a graceful smile.

"We haven't been properly introduced, have we?" Her sharp, expectant gaze landed on me.

"Tell me, what is your name, hm?"

Arthur and Murphy glanced at me, unsure whether they should reveal their identities.

I sighed, stepping forward. "Arche."

Arthur nodded. "Arthur."

Murphy adjusted his sunglasses—despite it being nighttime—and added, "Murphy."

Theresia's smile grew, almost like a cat pleased with catching its prey.

"Arche, Arthur, and Murphy," she repeated slowly, as if engraving the names into her mind. "A pleasure to meet you all."

She tilted her head, her smirk widening. "Now, at the very least, I know the names of the ruffians who had the audacity to barge into a lady's room in the dead of night."

I met her gaze, not playing along with her theatrics. "I have a question for you, Theresia."

The room's atmosphere shifted.

Theresia's playful demeanor faltered, curiosity flashing in her eyes. "Oh?"

I didn't hesitate. "Do you want your father and mother to die?"

The question struck like a dagger in the silence that followed.

Arthur and Murphy tensed. Even the ever-composed Theresia blinked in momentary surprise.

But it lasted only a second. She quickly shut her eyes, taking a deep breath.

When she opened them again, her expression was unwavering.

"Yes."

I nodded. "I can understand why you want your mother gone, but your father… Why him too?"

Theresia didn't expect that follow-up. She hesitated, inhaling deeply before locking eyes with me.

"He's a fool who doesn't deserve the throne," she declared, her voice unwavering.

"He has no time for me, never cared, never listened. And if he remains king, this kingdom is doomed."

Her words carried the weight of certainty. "So, do you understand why I want him gone?"

I exhaled through my nose. "Understood."

Arthur and Murphy, who had been listening in silence, suddenly snapped out of it.

"Wait a damn minute, Arche—do you even have a real plan?" Arthur demanded.

"Yeah, are you actually sure about this?" Murphy added, arms crossed.

I smirked. "Like I said, we wait."

Arthur, clearly unimpressed, pulled back his hood. "Waiting?! Explain your plan, idiot!"

Murphy followed suit, tossing his hood back. "Yeah, we deserve to know too."

But instead of answering, Theresia's eyes went wide.

Her mouth hung slightly open as she stared at Arthur. A noticeable blush crept onto her face.

I raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

Murphy leaned in toward me. "...He's still popular, huh?"

Arthur, meanwhile, just scratched his head, looking completely lost. "What? Why are you all staring at me?"

Theresia, still mesmerized, took a step closer.

"He… he's really handsome…" she murmured, her voice almost shaky.

Arthur blinked. "Uh… what?"

Murphy sighed. "There it is."

Theresia, suddenly emboldened, leaned in with a teasing smile.

Arthur instinctively stepped back, clearly caught off guard.

"Uh… what are you doing?" A hint of nervousness slipped into his voice.

Before Arthur could react, Theresia latched onto his arm.

"Hey~ Can you help me save this kingdom?" she purred.

Arthur stiffened. "S-Sure…?"

His answer only made her smile wider as she tightened her grip on his arm.

"Perfect! You're so reliable… and so handsome too."

The way her eyes sparkled told me everything—I had just witnessed a woman fall hard.

Arthur glanced at me and Murphy, his face screaming "Help me."

We were already backing toward the balcony.

Murphy gave him a lazy wave. "We'll head home first, Arthur."

"Don't forget to come back." I said sarcastically.

Before Arthur could protest, we launched ourselves off with a grappling hook.

"H-Hey! WHY ARE YOU LEAVING ME?!" Arthur's desperate yell followed us into the night.

Back in the room, Theresia still clung to his arm.

"Don't worry about them," she said sweetly. "Now that they're gone, we can spend some time alone."

Arthur gulped. "G-Glup."

Back at the base, Murphy and I explained the situation to the others.

Their response?

Laughter.

And not a single person suggested we go back for him.

Morning light filtered into our base as we chatted idly. Then, with a creak, the door swung open.

Arthur stood there—disheveled, exhausted, and looking as if he had just returned from war.

"Ugh..."

Chronia raised an eyebrow. "Rough night?"

Arthur dragged himself to the sofa, collapsing into it with a heavy sigh.

"You guys are so cruel for leaving me..."

Zack smirked. "I wonder what happened."

I approached him, arms crossed. "You got the information, right?"

Arthur slowly turned his head toward me. "You left me on purpose so I could gather information, didn't you...?"

Murphy let out a short chuckle. "Arche does that all the time. You're still surprised?"

Arthur sighed again, rubbing his temples before finally relenting. "Fine. I'll tell you what I learned."

He straightened slightly, his expression darkening as he spoke.

"It's about Theresia's father."

The room fell silent. We listened.

Theresia's family was never meant to hold power. They were a minor noble house, insignificant in the grand scheme of the kingdom.

But everything changed because of her mother.

She was an ambitious woman, ruthless and cunning. When she decided that her first husband—Theresia's biological father—wasn't powerful enough, she killed him without hesitation.

Then, she set her sights higher.

She seduced one of the candidates for the throne, ensuring that he would fall under her spell. In the end, they married.

That wasn't enough.

She cheated to ensure her new husband's success. She poisoned the wife of one of the candidates.

Only one candidate remained.

But he was different.

He was strong.

No amount of deceit, manipulation, or poison could break him.

And for the first time, Theresia's mother failed.

Arthur's voice was heavy with exhaustion, but his words carried weight.

"Theresia's father campaigned by winning over the people."

"He built his image not as a rigid ruler, but as someone relatable—someone they could trust."

We listened in silence.

"He made people laugh, did ridiculous things just to entertain them, and promised a kingdom free of corruption." Arthur continued. "He swore to leave no one behind."

Hearing that, I began piecing things together.

Theresia knew all of this. She read her mother's thoughts, understood the schemes that had played out in the shadows.

She knew her father's rise to power had been orchestrated, but she also knew something deeper—whether his rule was a lie or the real thing.

Cathy folded her arms. "Sounds like he could be a good king."

Valeria scoffed. "You think so?"

She leaned forward, her red eyes glinting. "If a man plays the fool before gaining power, do you really believe he'll take his duties seriously once he has it?"

The room fell into contemplation.

Oris spoke next. "Then what's our next move?"

Chronia turned toward me. "Arche?"

I exhaled, my voice steady. "We wait."

Arthur frowned. "You always say that. Why? What exactly are we waiting for?"

I met his gaze. "To see if he's worthy of the throne."

A week passed. We didn't act—we simply observed.

And the king? He kept his word.

He provided food for the poor, ensured no one was left starving.

He rooted out corruption, exposing the officials who had been stealing from the people.

On the surface, he seemed like the ruler the kingdom needed.

But I wasn't convinced.

So, I gave an order.

Cathy and Murphy were sent to watch over the corrupt officials who had been exposed.

Their hands were shackled, their heads bowed as they were paraded through the streets.

The crowd jeered at them, their once-feared authority reduced to nothing but scorn.

And then, Murphy—hidden among the masses—picked up a stone.

Without hesitation, he hurled it.

The rock struck one of the corruptors in the face, splitting the skin open.

Blood seeped from the wound as the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The guards immediately snapped to attention, eyes scanning for the culprit.

But Murphy was already gone, vanishing into thin air as Cathy's magic took effect.

That single act was enough.

The crowd erupted.

More stones followed. More objects were thrown. The corruptors—once feared figures in the kingdom—became nothing more than targets of the people's wrath.

From a nearby tower, Murphy and Cathy reappeared, their invisibility fading.

Murphy exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from his brow. "That was close."

Cathy was still trembling. "W-What if we had been caught?"

Murphy placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Relax. We're safe now, aren't we?"

Cathy hesitated before nodding. "Y-Yeah… you're right."

"Arche already told us to do this, which means we have waited long enough." Murphy's voice was calm but resolute.

Then—

"Murphy! Watch out!"

Cathy shoved him aside as an arrow whistled past, embedding itself into the wall where his head had been.

Another arrow followed, but this time, Murphy reacted.

His hand snapped up, fingers closing around the shaft mid-air. His grip tightened.

"Okay, maybe we're not safe! We were caught."

Without hesitation, he pulled up his hood and wrapped Cathy in his arms, shielding her face.

"Cathy, let's go!"

Cathy nodded, and in an instant, they vanished into thin air.

Invisible, they sprinted through the labyrinthine streets, weaving through alleys, their breaths sharp and ragged.

Footsteps thundered behind them—soldiers in pursuit. But the city was theirs to navigate.

And then, they were gone.

At our temporary base, Arthur and I were the only ones present.

The others had been sent out to earn money, blending into the city like ghosts.

Then—

Cathy and Murphy reappeared, gasping for breath. Cathy doubled over, hands on her knees.

Murphy wiped the sweat from his forehead, his eyes sharp with urgency.

Arthur arched a brow. "Why do you two look so rushed?"

Murphy didn't waste time. "We did as you said. But we were spotted—ambushed."

I exhaled, tapping off the ash of my cigarette. "With what?"

Murphy's expression hardened. "Arrows."

"Get down."

They obeyed instantly.

A heartbeat later, an arrow sliced through the air—aimed straight at me.

Arthur's sword flashed.

CLANG!

The arrow deflected, the force sending it spiraling into the floor.

Arthur's grip tightened around his hilt. I took one last drag of my cigarette, exhaling slowly as I flicked the butt aside.

A figure stepped into the room, her movements graceful, her presence commanding.

Theresia.

"Oh? You were able to block that attack? Amazing! You truly are a great man." She smiled, eyes sweeping the space. "So, this is your base, huh?"

Arthur stiffened. "Theresia?!"

Cathy's voice was sharp with disbelief. "How did she find us? We used invisibility magic!"

I leaned back against the table, arms crossed. "Because she can read your minds."

Silence. The realization hit them like a falling blade.

Murphy's gaze snapped to me. "Wait. You knew?"

I nodded. "One of the reasons I sent you there was to lure her here."

Murphy's face twisted. "You made us bait?! We almost died, you know?!"

I exhaled, shaking my head. "No, she wouldn't kill you."

"Correct." Theresia chuckled, tilting her head. "I wouldn't do that. I just wanted to know where you were living, that's all."

I met her gaze, unbothered. "And if you did try, you'd be in hell before you even realized it."

Theresia's lips curled into a smirk. "Huuu~ scary..."

Her gaze flickered to Arthur, who was still frozen, mouth slightly open.

"You look surprised to see me," she teased, stepping past him without breaking her stride.

Then, she turned to me. Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and calculating.

"I have a question."

I met her with an even stare. "Go ahead."

"Why did you send them to do that?"

"That was just the trigger for my next plan." I answered.

I met her gaze, my tone calm but unwavering. "Theresia."

She turned her attention to me, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Yes?"

I didn't hesitate. "Do you want to help me remove your father from the throne?"

For a brief moment, silence filled the room. Then, her eyes sharpened, a fire igniting behind them.

She hadn't expected the question. But it was obvious—she welcomed it.

"Yes." Her voice was resolute. "I absolutely want to remove my father from the throne."

The room tensed at her conviction.

Cathy hesitated, then looked at me. "...So... is she on the team?"

Before I could answer, Theresia moved—quick, fluid, without hesitation.

She latched onto Arthur's arm, pressing herself close. "I'm willing to join—if I can be with Arthur!"

Arthur flinched. "U-Ugh?!" He tried to move, but Theresia tightened her grip, refusing to let go.

Murphy leaned over and whispered something to Cathy.

Her expression shifted as she nodded slowly. "Ah... I see..."

A few days had passed. Our temporary base was filled with idle conversation, a fleeting moment of calm in the storm we were stirring.

That peace shattered when Theresia stormed in, her heels clicking sharply against the wooden floor.

"Arche."

Her voice cut through the air like a blade. All eyes turned toward her.

In her hand, she clutched a newspaper—crumpled from how tightly she was gripping it.

Without hesitation, she tossed it at me. I caught it effortlessly.

"Read the latest news."

The others leaned in, curiosity laced with apprehension. I unfolded the paper and scanned the front page.

The headline was damning.

Because of the recent incident—where a corrupt official had been struck with a stone—the king had enacted a new law.

"Any citizen who harms or insults a government official will be immediately imprisoned."

The corruptors from that day had not been formally convicted. They remained officials under the law, and now, the one who threw the stone was being hunted down.

Furthermore, government enforcers were now authorized to bear arms to protect their own safety.

The weight of the words settled over the room. A thick silence followed.

This law didn't just suppress dissent—it eradicated freedom of speech.

The realization hit the group like a hammer. Their expressions ranged from shock to quiet fury.

Theresia's gaze bore into me, sharp and knowing. "Everything is going according to your plan, isn't it, Arche?"

Her words weren't a question. They were a confirmation.

I closed the newspaper, meeting her piercing eyes.

Yes. She's right.

I set the newspaper down, my fingers lingering over the inked words.

"Has this news spread throughout the country?" My voice was calm, measured.

"Yes," Theresia answered, crossing her arms. "And it's thrown the people into a state of fear and unrest. No one dares to speak out anymore."

Zack exhaled sharply. "So, the people have truly been silenced, huh...?"

Theresia nodded. "My father—the king—implemented this law out of fear."

"He knows that if the citizens were willing to stone corrupt officials, they wouldn't hesitate to do the same to him."

"And now, with this law in place, no one can openly oppose his rule."

Her words carried an edge of contempt, but there was something else—something colder.

"...And just so you all know," she continued, "not all of the corruptors that were arrested are still behind bars."

Lycaon's ears perked up. "What? Some escaped? How the hell did that happen?"

Theresia let out a dry chuckle. "Bribery, of course. What else?"

A tense silence followed.

"And for the ones who remain imprisoned…" she trailed off, her gaze turning sharp.

"They aren't suffering. They're living in comfort, housed in luxurious cells."

"Their so-called punishment is nothing more than a vacation."

Chronia clenched her fists. "Those damn pigs..." she muttered under her breath.

I pushed my chair back and stood, gathering their attention in an instant.

"Alright. Listen closely—this is my plan."

The room was filled with unwavering silence as I laid everything out. Every step. Every move.

And when I was finished—

"So this was your plan all along?!" Valeria's voice was laced with disbelief.

Oris, still processing, turned to me. "Since when?"

I met his gaze.

"From the very start."

The sun had barely risen when we moved.

Our teams split into five, each with a specific role to play. Distraction. Sabotage. Chaos.

Theresia and I sprinted toward the palace, while the others spread out among the city, seeding unrest and uncertainty among the people.

"You meet the Queen," I instructed, keeping my pace steady. "I'll handle the King. Understood?"

Theresia smirked. "Of course."

We cut through the guards effortlessly, but their numbers only grew. Soon, we were surrounded.

"Tch..." I clicked my tongue, scanning the opposition.

"Princess! Why have you betrayed us?" One of the guards called out, desperation in his voice.

Another sighed. "I know you like her, but there's no time for that!"

Ignoring them, I turned to Theresia. "I'll handle this. You get out of here."

She frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I'll clear the path," I muttered, reaching into my coat.

With a flick of my wrist, a small explosive landed between us and the guards.

"Go."

The second she dashed forward, the bomb detonated—but no flames erupted.

Because it was never real.

The guards flinched, bracing for an impact that never came.

Theresia slipped through their hesitation like a shadow.

"After her!" one of them barked—only to collapse mid-step, his body frozen in place.

I exhaled, lowering my blade. He never even saw my strike. "She's a great archer," I thought to myself.

"When was the last time I met an archer like her? Oh, right, Ashley."

"She's a cute girl. I hope I get to meet her again," I said quietly, letting the thought drift as I ignored the others around me.

"Y-You're looking down on us, aren't you?!" one of the guards suddenly shouted, his voice tinged with anger.

I lit a cigarette, watching as the guards hesitated, uncertainty flickering in their eyes.

"Alright... Let's begin."

One of the guards lunges at me from behind, thrusting his spear.

I catch the attack with the blade in my left hand, deflecting it with a sharp clang. 

Without hesitation, my right-hand blade drives forward, piercing through his armor and sinking deep into his chest.

He barely has time to gasp before crumpling to the floor. 

Two more guards rush me at once. I sidestep their clumsy attacks, weaving between them like a shadow before driving both my blades into their backs.

They fall, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground. 

From the right, another guard swings a heavy axe at me. I raise my blade just in time, catching the brutal strike.

The force pushes me back slightly, but I shift my weight and shove the axe aside, throwing him off balance.

In that split second, my blade finds his throat. I flick the blood off my weapon just as my cigarette, nearly slipping from my lips, tumbles downward.

With a quick motion, I snatch it from the air and take a slow drag. 

Another guard charges, spear aimed straight for my stomach. His eyes burn with desperation. 

As he gets close, I pivot smoothly to the side, dodging with ease. "You should save that move for when your enemy is actually on their last legs," I said.

The remaining guards hesitate for a moment—then, with a roar, they charge me again.

Theresia stepped into the lavish chamber, her mother's perfume thick in the air, a cloying scent that had once suffocated her. 

The woman sitting before her barely lifted her gaze. 

"Huh? What do you want, you damn brat?" Her voice was laced with venom, as if the mere sight of Theresia soured her morning. 

The daughter did not flinch. Instead, she took slow, deliberate steps forward. 

"I just want to tell you something, Mother." 

A scoff. "Hah? You finally finished archery practice? And what nonsense are you going to spout this time?" 

Theresia's hand gripped the smooth curve of her bow. Her voice remained eerily calm. 

"Just a simple thank you." 

She nocked an arrow. 

"Thank you for giving birth to me in this world." 

Before the woman could react, the arrow pierced her shoulder.

The sharp twang of the bowstring was followed by an agonized scream. 

The Queen clutched the wound, blood spilling between her fingers, staining her pristine gown. 

Theresia tilted her head, staring at her own handiwork. "Oops. I missed." 

She pulled another arrow from her quiver, running a gloved finger over its tip. Her eyes met her mother's, cold and unwavering. 

"I've never missed before…" she mused. "Maybe because I'm dealing with my mother." 

The Queen writhed in pain, her lips curling into a snarl, but no words escaped her—only shrill, broken cries. 

But Theresia didn't need to hear them. 

The hatred in her mother's eyes said it all. 

"Theresia… You…" 

"Farewell, Mother." 

Without another glance, Theresia turned on her heel, stepping over the growing pool of blood, and walked toward her stepfather's chambers.

A sharp cry echoed from outside, followed by the frantic sound of boots storming through the palace corridors. 

"They're here, huh…?" Theresia's lips curled into a knowing smile. 

Meanwhile, in the bloodstained hallways I had carved through, the last of the guards lay sprawled at my feet.

I could hear the uproar beyond the walls—the city, the soldiers, the chaos we had unleashed. 

"Heh. That was pretty quick," I muttered, pulling my blade free from the dented armor of a trembling guard. 

I crouched down, prying off his helmet. His face was contorted with fear, his wide eyes darting desperately for salvation that would never come. 

"Sweet dreams." 

I took a slow drag from my cigarette, then exhaled the smoke into his face before slamming the helmet shut.

His muffled, ragged breathing was the only sound he could make now. 

Sheathing my dual blades, I turned and sprinted toward Theresia. 

We met outside the grand doors of the King's chamber. 

"Have you finished off your mother?" I asked, my tone as casual as if I had asked about the weather. 

Theresia hesitated. A flicker of something—remorse, perhaps?—crossed her face before she gave a firm nod. 

"…She will die." 

I studied her for a moment, then stepped past her and shoved the doors open. 

The King was inside, standing frozen in place. His regal garments were slightly disheveled, his expression one of unmasked terror. 

He turned, his gaze darting between us in disbelief. 

"Theresia?! And who the hell are you?!" 

I took a final drag of my cigarette, then flicked it onto the pristine marble floor. 

"Fool Hero." 

The King's face paled. "Did those people come here because of you?!"

Beyond the palace walls, the voices of the people rose like a storm—shouting, chanting, demanding justice. 

Oris and Arthur stood at the forefront, leading the mass demonstration. 

At the same time, Cathy and Murphy carried out their task, leaving destruction in their wake.

The government's secret armory, meant to oppress the people, now lay in ruins. 

And here, in the heart of the palace, stood the King—the so-called ruler of this kingdom—trembling before us. 

"Yes, I am their leader." I stepped forward, placing a hand on Theresia's head as she stood beside me. 

I let my words sink in before continuing, my gaze locked onto his fearful eyes. 

"I've heard from your stepdaughter. You only became King because of your wife. Without her, you never would have made it this far." 

"What?! I did this by myself!" he bellowed, his face twisted in denial. 

"Oh?" I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. "Even your own wife never told you the truth, huh? How pathetic." 

The King staggered back, his confidence crumbling with every second. 

"Theresia," I called. 

She nodded in silent understanding. 

In an instant, arrows shot past him—embedding into the floor, the walls, and the pillars around him.

A perfect formation that left him paralyzed, unable to move a single step. 

Theresia smiled as she lowered her bow. 

"If you remain on the throne, this kingdom will crumble." 

Her voice was calm, yet it carried the weight of an unshakable truth. 

"You are an irresponsible, foolish man. The only reason you've held power this long… is because of Mother." 

Her words cut deeper than any blade. 

"You're just a doll."

Just as Theresia was about to release her next shot, I yanked her back. 

A bullet whizzed past where she had stood mere seconds ago. 

"You should've seen that coming," I muttered. 

Her mind was a mess—I could tell from the way she hesitated, from the way her hands trembled ever so slightly. 

"You're still conflicted, huh?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. 

She nodded, reading my thoughts just as I had read hers. 

I turned to face the shooter—Theresia's mother. 

She stood there, panting, her shoulder drenched in blood from the arrow wound.

But even as she bled, she raised her gun once more, determined to take her daughter down. 

I sighed. "How stubborn."

Taking Theresia's bow, I moved before she could stop me. 

Her mother fired—once, twice—but my movements were faster. I dodged, pulled back the string, and let my arrow fly. 

It struck the center of her forehead. 

She fell backward, her body hitting the cold floor with a dull thud. 

Lifeless. 

The king let out a choked gasp. I turned to him, trembling and weak, as Theresia stared at the floor, lost in thought. 

I raised the bow again. One shot. That's all it would take to end this pathetic excuse of a ruler. 

But before I could release, a hand caught my wrist. 

Theresia. 

She wasn't looking at me—her gaze was locked onto her father, reading his thoughts in silence. 

"Let him live," she whispered. 

I didn't argue. If this was her decision, then so be it. 

With a sigh, I lowered the bow and placed it on the floor. 

I turned away, stepping toward the grand window that overlooked the city. 

The sight before me was breathtaking. 

The citizens had stormed the palace. 

The banners of the corrupt had been torn down, and the people had taken control. 

Far in the distance, I could see Chronia, Valeria, Lycaon, and Zack—they had successfully captured the corruptors who had fled, dragging them out of their so-called luxurious prison. 

We had done it. 

The people had won. 

The government that once ruled through fear and oppression had been brought to its knees.

A few days had passed since Theresia joined our team, and surprisingly, she had grown quite attached to Arthur. 

Arthur, who usually handled the reins of our carriage, had now been replaced by Oris.

It was a rare sight—Arthur finally getting a break while Oris took over with ease. 

"There are ten of us now," Chronia remarked, glancing around at our expanding group. 

"Welcome to Venganza, Theresia the Sunpiercer!" Valeria greeted with excitement, her energy infectious. 

Theresia held a tarot card in her hand—The Sun. She stared at it for a moment, as if contemplating its meaning. 

"You guys haven't gotten any tattoos yet, right?" Lycaon suddenly asked. 

"Tattoo?" The newer members muttered in unison. 

Ah, that's right. After Arthur, we hadn't continued the tradition.

We had been so busy that it completely slipped our minds. But now, they could all get their tattoos together. 

Theresia must have read my thoughts, because she suddenly groaned. 

"All members have to get a tattoo?" she asked, frowning. 

I nodded. "It's a tradition." 

She pouted. "Ugh… My beautiful body will look ugly with a tattoo." 

"Wait, if everyone gets a tattoo, does that mean Arthur has one too?" she suddenly asked, her curiosity piqued. 

"Yeah, you'll have the same one as him," Zack said with a smirk. 

Theresia's eyes lit up. "Let's go to the tattoo shop now!" she said, practically bouncing in excitement. 

Arthur, on the other hand, sighed in defeat. "Ugh..." 

Everyone laughed at his reaction. 

With that, Lycaon steered the carriage toward the next country.

After a few days of travel, we finally arrived in a country with a breathtaking landscape and a well-organized city layout. 

The town was called Montreval, a place bustling with life yet carrying an air of tranquility.

After parking our horse-drawn carriage, we made our way through the streets, heading toward the tattoo shop. 

As we walked and chatted, my gaze was suddenly drawn to a figure—a woman in a familiar witch outfit. 

Something about her felt too familiar. 

"Arche?" Chronia called, bringing me back to reality. "What's wrong?" 

I turned back, but the witch was gone. 

Maybe I was imagining things. Probably just my sleep deprivation messing with me again. 

"You should get some rest, Boss," Theresia teased, still clinging to Arthur's arm like a stubborn cat. 

"Stop reading people's minds as you please," I shot back. 

She chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. 

Soon, we arrived at the tattoo shop. 

Hours passed, filled with the sound of protests, nervous laughter, and the occasional scream from those who had never experienced a tattoo before. 

But in the end, they all walked out, newly marked with the symbol of Venganza. 

Let's go over them one by one. 

Arthur and I had our tattoos inked on the right side of our chests.

Lycaon, with his towering figure, chose to have his tattoo sprawled across his entire back, making it even more intimidating. 

Oris had his on his left arm, while Zack opted for the right. 

Chronia had hers on her left chest, while Valeria decided to place it on her neck, a bold and fitting choice for her. 

Cathy, ever the unconventional one, had hers inked on her thigh, and Murphy, had his right under his eye. 

And finally, Theresia—she chose to place hers on her front shoulder, at the very spot where her mother's arrow once struck. 

That night, we celebrated. 

Renting out an entire bar, we let loose in a way we hadn't in a long time. 

Everyone ordered alcohol—well, except Arthur, Theresia, and Cathy. 

"Hey, doesn't it hurt to have a tattoo under your eye?" Cathy asked Murphy, eyeing his ink curiously. 

"I've felt worse pain than this," he replied casually, taking a sip of his drink. 

Then, in a moment that caught all of us off guard, Arthur suddenly stepped onto the table, raising his glass high. 

…Was he drunk? 

I turned my head slightly, only to see Lycaon smirking while holding an empty beer mug. 

So that's who did it. 

"Alright!" Arthur shouted, his voice echoing through the bar.

"Let's all toast to our team, whose members are now complete!" 

"Hey, put your orange juice down," Murphy deadpanned. 

Laughter erupted as we lifted our drinks, bringing them together at the center of the table. 

"Arche! Give your great speech!" 

All eyes were on me. 

I took a deep breath, smirking as I cleared my throat.

"My comrades… we're finally whole." 

A short pause, letting the words sink in. 

"Venganza ain't just a name, ain't just a team, and sure as hell ain't just a bunch of outcasts." 

"We are the ones who lost. The ones who got screwed over. The ones who watched this world get trampled by bastards who call themselves the light." 

"Lunar Ascendance… those arrogant pricks think they're on top of the world. They believe they're the truth." 

"But we know better. Truth doesn't belong to the ones in power—it belongs to those with the guts to challenge them." 

"I know not all of you are here for revenge." 

"Some of you don't give a damn about payback—you're here to put an end to them." 

"To burn down a system built to keep us beneath their boots. To tear this world from their grip." 

"I ain't gonna call us heroes—'cause we're not. We don't fight for glory, and we sure as hell don't fight for praise." 

"We fight for one thing: to bring those bastards down." 

"Tonight, we don't stand here as victims… we stand as executioners." 

"Not as shadows… but as the storm that'll rip them from their fucking throne." 

"No mercy. No turning back. We ain't heroes… we are Venganza." 

"And to the ones who fucked up our lives—your time is up." 

"Long live Venganza!"

We all cheered, raising our glasses high as laughter and chatter filled the bar. 

For the first time in a long while, there was no tension—just the warmth of camaraderie, the unspoken bond between us. 

Tonight, we celebrated. 

Our next destination was clear. 

Lunar Ascendance. 

And this time, we wouldn't be the ones running. 

We owe respect to our parents—not because they are perfect, but because they gave us life.