Chapter 13: Lead Sentinel

Marcus frowned slightly at the question.

First of all, he had no idea what a False Page was. At best, he could only assume it had something to do with the cargo aboard the train he had barely survived.

More importantly, he had come across a few strange scrolls, one of which had reacted violently to his blood, fusing with him. Because of that, he was cautious with how he answered, especially in front of the Lead Sentinel.

The man radiated danger like heat from a furnace.

Unlike the other soldiers, whose names and races hovered above their heads in faint words, the Lead Sentinel's display was oddly muted. Only his race showed; everything else was blank. No name, no level.

"I don't know what a False Page is, sir," Marcus replied calmly, with his tone leveled and respectful. He kept his posture tight, still standing at attention.

"But I can see a bit of your information hovering over your head."

The Lead Sentinel's single eye narrowed with interest.

Marcus blinked, realizing what he had just said, and immediately, he looked up. Yet all he could see was the night sky watched by two moons.

The Lead Sentinel chuckled, sounding both amused and unreadable. "You may not know what a False Page is, but there's no doubt you're Awakened. That reaction of yours?" He gestured idly. "Genuine. Tells me you awakened just recently."

He took a step closer.

"There are very few ways to Awaken these days… and given the circumstances, it's not hard to guess which one applies to you. That being said…" His voice suddenly dipped and became lower. "Not knowing what a False Page is doesn't excuse the theft of one. So I'll ask again—did you steal military property?"

Marcus resisted the urge to grimace. He wanted to punch himself in the face for reacting so visibly—his face had betrayed him even before he could properly comprehend what was going on. But still…

Is it stealing if the damn thing stuck itself to me?

He drew in a slow breath.

"No, sir. I'm loyal to the Empire," He said firmly. "I didn't steal anything."

"I see," the Lead Sentinel said with a low chuckle. "Then we'll find out soon enough. Bring in the personnel responsible for transporting the cargo. I want the full report of the inventory—every item that was loaded."

"Yes, sir." Two Iron Marshals snapped into motion, quickly vanishing into the trees to carry out the order.

"At ease," the Sentinel commanded. As before, the soldiers responded in perfect unison, dropping their salutes and shifting into a relaxed stance.

"Some of you—start salvaging whatever remains of the cargo in the vicinity. Recover everything you can."

Marcus remained where he was, with an unreadable expression on his face. But his thoughts raced.

There's only one way I walk away from this clean.

If more than one item is found missing from that shipment… they won't be able to pin this on me—not anytime soon, at least.

But if it's only one…

He clenched his jaw slightly.

Then I'll need a story—something convincing. Something that explains how I awakened. Even if the evidence clears me, it's best to be prepared.

"I really hope you're telling the truth about not stealing anything," the Sentinel said, his tone softer now, but no less sharp. "A soldier like you, who had the guts to fight a Vorathis Minx barehanded… and lived? That's rare. Killing it without being torn apart—especially at your level—makes you more valuable alive than dead, Marcus Black."

Marcus didn't respond. He was already weighing his options, even entertaining the idea of escape—until he reminded himself how reckless that would be.

Running might save me now… but it'll doom my siblings later.

I am innocent. No one is trying to frame me this time. But still—who can I point a finger at?

No one. I'm on my own.

Let's just hope the explosion that derailed the train incinerated enough of the cargo to make this messy.

The Lead Sentinel studied his silence, then continued.

"I also know why you were being shipped off to the Second Ring," he said. "Tough spot to be in, huh?"

This time, Marcus didn't hold back. His eyes narrowed as he openly studied the Lead Sentinel. Though his face remained unreadable, and the intensity in his gaze was enough to betray what he was thinking, and everyone could see it.

The Lead Sentinel chuckled. "Pragmatic, aren't you? I mention your sentencing, and right away you start wondering if I'm someone's puppet—an underdog for the very people who want you dead."

Are you? Marcus thought grimly.

It was one thing for the man to be his superior. It was another entirely if he was loyal to the wrong side—if he was one of them.

"Hey puppy," Waldolf snapped, stepping forward with his blade raised again. "Stop glaring at our captain like that before I come over there and teach you some manners."

His threat went unanswered. Marcus didn't so much as flinch, didn't even blink. His silence, once again, was a quiet provocation—one that made Waldolf's grip on his weapon tighten.

Just as the tension reached a breaking point, rustling came from the trees. The soldiers who had gone to retrieve the cargo returned, carrying several crates on their shoulders, including the shattered one Marcus had encountered earlier.

Trailing behind them were the other Iron Marshals who had been aboard the train. Their eyes widened at the sight of Marcus alive and standing. They had clearly written him off as dead when they'd lost track of him during the attack.

One of them stepped forward and handed the cargo report to the Lead Sentinel. The Moonlight glinted off the papers as the officer read through it.

"Keeyah," he said without looking up, "begin the count. I want a full tally on the False Pages."

Without a word, the archer obeyed. She began with the broken crate, examining the contents meticulously before moving to the sealed one. Each scroll she counted glowed faintly in response to her touch.

The process took several minutes. When she finished, she approached the Lead Sentinel and leaned in close, whispering something into his ear.

When she finished, Keeyah took a few silent steps back.

At that moment, the Lead Sentinel's smile vanished. His head tilted slightly, as if reconsidering something, or as if he was weighing the next move in a quiet, dangerous game.

"Officer Marcus Black," he called out, his voice now devoid of the previous playfulness, "do you have anything to say for yourself?"

This guy's dangerous, Marcus thought, keeping his expression neutral. Too careful… too clever.

He could sense the trap in the question. They hadn't announced how many False Pages were listed in the report—or how many had just been recovered. That alone made his skin prickle.

Are they missing one? Or several? Were any destroyed in the explosion? He couldn't tell. But considering how drastically a single scroll had altered his life, he wasn't sure those things could burn easily.

The omission of any numbers felt deliberate. Neither the Lead Sentinel nor his subordinate had said a word about the actual count. Marcus could feel the pressure tightening around him like a noose. A damn setup, one that was meant to make him slip, to crack and confess under implication and confess.

He took a steady breath before answering; "I am innocent." He said evenly.