The Aftermath

The noise of the city in the early morning was deafening. News of the dead dwarf's body had spread like wildfire, flooding the streets with gossip.

The usual sounds of vendors, children, and street performers had been replaced with frantic conversations, loud whispers, and heated debates. Everyone had something to say, whether it was about the brutal death, the mysterious circumstances, or the possibility that it was a message from someone powerful.

The air buzzed with speculation, and even the faintest whisper seemed to echo off the walls.

In the guild, Eri worked quietly, pinning bounty posters to the board. The usual chatter felt different today—sharp and frantic.

"Not your usual morning mood, huh?" Cassius's voice cut through the noise.

Eri didn't respond immediately.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the posters, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Just busy," she muttered, trying to push away the nagging sense of unease that had settled in her chest.

Anyway where's Kaeli? Cassius Asked.

Kaeli's sleep had been fitful, each minute stretching into an eternity. He awoke with a jolt, his body drenched in sweat, his heart racing. But it wasn't the nightmare that had haunted him—it was the lingering sense of danger.

'It's him,' Kaeli thought, the dagger hunter's presence still burned into his mind. The hunter's killing intent had been like a shadow, lingering even after the rain had stopped, even after he'd found shelter. It hadn't mattered how fast Kaeli had moved, how much he'd hidden—he had felt those eyes on him the whole time.

The hunter's presence had haunted him all night, and even now, as he lay still in his bed, the fear gnawed at him. He couldn't escape it. The corpse from last night was just a mission, a job. But the hunter? The relentless killer tracking him down? Kaeli shuddered.

'Get it together,' he snapped at himself.

"I wonder what the others are doing?" He thought.

In the Inn

Gerard sat at his small table, a bowl of porridge in front of him.

The usual morning calm had been shattered by the spreading rumors.

As he chewed thoughtfully, his gaze wandered toward the window.

'What's Rethrus planning?' Gerard thought, his brow furrowing.

His thoughts drifted again to Kaeli. The guy had been through so much already. Gerard couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.

Rethrus sat alone in his dark room, the faint flicker of light casting long shadows. The noise of the city, the hustle and bustle of rumors and chaos, felt distant here. Rethrus closed his eyes, his focus shifting inward. He wasn't thinking about the dwarf's body or the city's turmoil. He was thinking about the storm on the horizon.

He felt it—like the quiet before the thunder. Danger is coming, and he needed to be ready. His mind turned to Kaeli, the man who had become more than just an ally. Rethrus could feel the weight on him, a sense of unease gnawing at his focus. Something was off.

Rethrus opened his eyes slowly, the intensity in them matched only by the tension in his muscles. He needed to prepare, to learn new magic.

He couldn't afford to wait any longer.

Tok, tok, tok.

"Rethrus, Rethrus!" Mrs. Hilda's voice called through the door, warm as always. "Time for breakfast."

Rethrus groggily pushed himself up from the bed, rubbing his face as he walked to the table.

The house was quiet, save for the steady clatter of plates and the soft hum of morning activity.

He sat down, still feeling the effects of last night, his mind half-lost in the thoughts of what was to come.

The smell of breakfast filled the air, and Mr. Eddie's hearty laugh followed soon after.

"Wow, you were late last night!" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he glanced up from his plate.

"Yeah, too much fun at the tavern," Rethrus replied with a mischievous grin, trying to downplay the seriousness of his night.

"You went to a tavern?" Mrs. Hilda's voice had an edge of concern. "What did you drink, young man?"

Rethrus chuckled. "Hah, I don't drink alcohol, just juice."

Mr. Eddie laughed. "Honey, he's a teenager! He can kill monsters anytime he wants—pretty sure he can handle beer."

"Even so," Mrs. Hilda replied, her gaze narrowing slightly.

"Haha, don't worry, ma'am, I don't drink alcohol," Rethrus quickly reassured her, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Anyway," he quickly shifted the topic, "what's happening right now? It's so noisy out there."

Mr. Eddie leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, the knight's body was found. It's at the Frings estate now."

'Nice!' Rethrus thought to himself.

"And," Mr. Eddie leaned closer, lowering his voice even more, "it's said to be from the Merlion family."

Rethrus acting Innocent, his fork pausing mid-air. "Merlion family?" He blinked, trying to act surprised.

"Eh? How do they know it was them?"

"Because of the way it was killed," Mr. Eddie replied. "And there's a mark, a sigil of the Merlion family, on the dwarf's body."

"Of course, some say it's a frame-up," Mr. Eddie added, shrugging dismissively.

Rethrus froze, forcing himself to return to his usual composure.

"But nah, why would someone do it in the first place?" Mr. Eddie said with a nonchalant wave, brushing the theory aside.

Rethrus nodded slowly, though his mind was racing.

"Anyway, eat up," Mr. Eddie said, offering a warm smile to Rethrus.

Rethrus barely heard him, still lost in thought.

"Now, what will you do today?" Mr. Eddie asked, his voice kind.

"Oh, I'm just gonna lay down in my room," Rethrus replied, putting on a tired expression. "I'm so tired."

Mrs. Hilda seemed to soften at that, nodding. "Alright, dear. Rest well."

The air was thick with sorrow, a tangible heaviness that clung to the Frings estate.

The sobbing of the family members echoed through the halls, especially the cousin of the deceased, whose grief seemed endless.

His mother's cries were heart-wrenching, and his sister's quiet sobs added to the symphony of anguish that filled the room.

A ceremony had already been held for the dead, the somber rituals of the Frings family giving way to mourning and reflection.

Once the ceremony was over, Frings' counsel gathered in the Frings Chamber, their faces etched with concern. The loss was still raw, but they had to focus on what came next.

"Sir, there were cuts all over the body," his assistant reported, his voice low and tense. "Watery cuts, and especially… the sigil of Merlion carved into the flesh."

Frings clenched his fists at his sides, his knuckles white with tension.

"I already know about that!" he shouted, his voice rising in frustration.

Dante, cleared his throat before speaking cautiously, "At least, sir, we have a lead."

Frings' eyes narrowed, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm.

"And what should we do with this lead, huh? Start a war with the Merlion family?"

Dante couldn't meet Frings' gaze, his eyes lowered to the floor as he swallowed hard.

"I can't just start a war with that family, especially since they already sent a letter claiming they have no idea about this mess," Frings continued, his tone hardening.

The frustration was building in his chest, but he wasn't sure what to do next.

Fergo, Frings' cousin, couldn't hold back any longer. His voice was sharp, edged with anger.

"But Frings, we already have a lead! They could be lying—are you really going to ignore this just out of fear? He's your family, for goodness sake!"

His words rang out, full of emotion, making the tension in the room almost unbearable.

Frings took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"I KNOW!" he shouted, his voice cracking slightly. "But it's not that simple. You don't understand. This isn't just about us. We can't act rashly."

Fergo's eyes burned with frustration. "So, what now? You let them walk all over us, all because you're too afraid to confront them? After everything they've done?"

Frings' gaze turned cold, his face hardening as if a mask had settled into place. "It's not about fear, Fergo. It's about knowing what will come next. I can't make a move based on one sigil and a body. I need more."

Fergo's fists clenched at his sides, the silence in the room growing heavy. "He was not just a body, He's your cousin."

Frings turned away, his back to them, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. "You'll understand soon enough. This… it's not just about revenge. This is about survival."