Waltz

The dance continued as the music swelled, nobles laughing and spinning across the polished floors. Lord Frings and Lord Merlion stood at the edge of the ballroom, their expressions calm as they watched the crowd enjoy themselves.

"I'm glad you came," Lord Merlion said, swirling the wine in his glass.

"It was the first thing I thought when I heard what happened. Just knowing I had nothing to do with it… a small relief."

"I understand," Frings replied, taking a quiet sip from his own glass.

"I'm still grieving, but… as a sign of respect, I came."

Merlion gave a slow nod, then leaned slightly closer.

"By the way, I heard there was some trouble with your 'investments'—back when Takashi's team visited."

"My end's fine, if you're wondering," he added casually, almost smug.

Frings chuckled under his breath. "Don't worry. There were some casualties, yes—but it turned out fine."

His eyes drifted to the dance floor, where Rethrus was moving stiffly to the rhythm, clearly out of his element but still trying.

As Kesia returned to the floor with Rethrus' hand in hers, they moved once more to the rhythm of the music. This time, Rethrus wasn't stumbling—he actually knew what he was doing. Their steps were smoother, their movements more relaxed. Both of them were smiling.

"Can I confess something?" Kesia asked, her voice playful.

"Sure," Rethrus said, glancing at her with a raised brow.

"I never thought you'd be like this."

"Huh? Like what?" he asked as they continued dancing.

"I mean… I thought you'd be a pervert or something," she said bluntly. "Y'know, grabbing my butt or my chest while dancing."

He blinked. "Wait—what?! Why would you even think that?"

"Well, you're the strongest guy around," she said, shrugging. "Most strong people I know are trash. Except my cousin Gunter."

"Haha—wow. Thanks, I guess." Rethrus scratched his cheek with his free hand. "Don't worry, I'm not like that. And… I'm sorry if your aunt forced you into this."

"Huh? No, not at all," she said with a grin. "It's our chance to have something incredible to tell our friends."

"Ah, that figures," Rethrus chuckled. "Alright then—let's dance some more."

He twirled her smoothly, forgetting for a moment the weight of everything else.

'Damn it, I'm really off-plan right now…' he thought.

'Anyway… I'll just enjoy this.'

As the dance floor grew more alive, the crowd began to swirl closer around Rethrus and Kesia.

With a final spin, the music shifted and partners switched mid-motion. Rethrus found himself face-to-face with someone new.

They both glanced back at their previous partners—Kesia gave him a grin, and he returned it with a light smirk.

"Hello, Rethrus," a girl in a blue dress said as she took his hand.

Rethrus blinked. "Uhm… have we met before?"

"We're classmates. I'm Sofia Veraila."

"Oh—sorry, we're like sixty in there. I barely remember half." He scratched his head.

"It's fine. Let's just dance," she said, her tone light.

Rethrus moved with her easily, their steps falling in sync.

"So, why are you here anyway?" he asked.

"I live in this city."

"No, I mean… we had a mission, right? Slave retrieval?"

"Yes. But that's finished. You're actually the only one left who hasn't returned."

"Oh… right, right. Damn, how many days have I been here?"

He looked down briefly, the realization hitting.

'I have to finish it already… but I need a distraction in order to get her. No worries… pretty sure something will happen soon.'

Meanwhile, in the tavern...

Fergus couldn't take it anymore.

Slamming the mug down, he stood and walked toward a rowdy group of men laughing too loudly—drunk and careless.

"Excuse me… could you please lower your voices?" he asked, keeping his tone polite.

"Huh? Who do you think you are, dwarf?" one of them sneered. "Can't you see we're celebrating?"

"I understand. But at least try to minimize it, sir."

The man scoffed. "Do you see this sigil?"

He rolled up his sleeve to reveal a crude hook-shaped mark burned into his skin.

Fergus' breath hitched.

His cousin's body had the same symbol.

His eyes widened, fury coiling in his chest like a tightening chain.

He heard Frings' voice echo in his mind.

But instead of exploding, Fergus breathed deep. Steadying himself. He turned to walk away.

"That's right—run off, shorty," one of the drunk soldiers said with a mocking laugh.

That was it.

The fury ignited.

Fergus conjured a large sword from pure mana. Its glow lit the dim tavern in pale blue. Slowly, he turned back—eyes burning.

Back at the party…

"Well, I'll be heading home now," Frings said, setting his glass down.

"Thank you for this wonderful evening."

"Of course." Lord Merlion smiled. "Ah—Bisky, kindly assist Lord Frings."

"Yes, sir," the loyal Butler stepped forward.

"Right here, milord."

"You really don't have to…" Frings muttered.

"Nonsense," Merlion chuckled. "Us old folks need to look out for each other."

Frings nodded, then cast one last look toward the dance floor—where Rethrus continued to move among the crowd.

The music swelled gently inside the Merlion Mansion.

Laughter echoed under shimmering chandeliers, people smiling beneath a cascade of soft blue light. Dresses twirled, glasses clinked, and joy filled the air like perfume.

Rethrus danced with Kesia again—his hand steady on her waist, their steps light and synchronized. He smiled.

Meanwhile, in a shadowed tavern bathed in blood-red light, Fergus stood among broken chairs and shattered bottles. Screams filled the space, not from joy—but fear.

He had already struck down two.

A third man lunged at him.

Fergus pivoted.

Steel sang.

A head rolled across the floor.

He smiled.

Back at the party, Rethrus now danced with Mrs. Hilda, gently guiding the elder woman across the floor. They shared a laugh, her steps surprisingly nimble.

Across the city, Fergus grabbed one of the last men standing.

They fought.

They twisted.

Then—locked arm in arm like unwilling partners in a cruel waltz—they spun.

Fergus drove his blade through the man's chest.

And kept dancing.

Red light. Blue light.

Two different dances under the same moon.

And both… were beautiful in their own twisted way.