Smoke crawled up through the cracks in the stone. The corridor of the prison district still drifted with the remnants of the explosion. The smell of charred stone. A low rumble of something collapsing in the distance. Raid adjusted the short blade back into the inner folds of his coat while following Min's back ahead of him. Lilia was right behind him. Raid could feel her footsteps trailing half a step behind his own. The hem of the coat he'd wrapped around Lilia's wrist in the previous chapter—the white cloth of an awkward makeshift bandage—was still visible even through the smoke. "Your Majesty, we turn right," Min said in a low voice. His tone was emotionless, purely reportorial. His slender frame pressed against the corner of the wall as he quickly checked the corridor ahead, then gestured them forward. Gen followed behind Min, his round eyes darting about nervously. His face was calm, but the tension pulled faintly at his cheeks. The moment the four of them turned the corner— "Your Majesty, this way!" Min said, accidentally at normal volume. Everyone pressed themselves against the wall. The stone was cold against their backs. Four sets of breathing stopped. Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy. The sound of armor. Drawing closer. (We've been found.) Raid felt Lilia grab his coat sleeve. Her fingertips were trembling. Raid didn't move. The footsteps grew louder. Armor striking stone tiles in a steady rhythm. —Then they passed right by. The footsteps faded into the distance. The corridor fell silent. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. They were really gone. Raid exhaled slowly. Gen peeled his back away from the wall. Min remained facing forward in silence. Lilia let out a small laugh. "He was drunk," she said in a low voice, barely containing her laughter. It was the moment all four of them realized the truth about the footsteps that had disappeared down the corridor—the unsteady gait that caught on the stone tiles, clearly staggering—the night watch knight had been drinking on duty. That was all. Gen pressed his hand to his mouth. His face was caught between laughing and not laughing. Only Min, still facing forward, spoke quietly. "We move." ──── Meanwhile, in a place far from there. The window of the confinement room trembled faintly. Aira caught the vibration in her palm. Her other hand pressed against the stone wall, she looked toward the outer wall. Outside was the darkness before dawn. The edge of the sky was just beginning to turn gray. An explosion. From the direction of the prison district. The way this vibration traveled—the way it resonated through the wall—it was an internal explosion. Not one using magical power. A physical means of destruction. Aira lifted her hand from the wall. She was calm. Calm, but something tightened deep in her chest. (It's Raid.) The certainty had no basis. Yet she knew it was true. The door opened. Vektor entered. Aira's fiancé—a man with gentle features and sincere eyes—looked at Aira first, not at the knight's report. His gaze swept from top to bottom, checking for injuries. He confirmed Aira's safety before taking command of the mission. That order of priorities defined exactly what kind of person he was. "There was an explosion," Vektor said. "I know," Aira replied curtly. Vektor stepped further into the room. The candlelight illuminated the right side of his face. There was a shadow of exhaustion at the corner of his left eye. He hadn't slept through this night either. "Do you think it's Lord Raid?" Vektor asked. It wasn't a question but a confirmation. Aira didn't answer. She judged there was no need to—that silence itself was the answer, and both of them knew it. Vektor paused for a moment. "If you leave this room now—" he said quietly, choosing his words with precision. Not a threat. Not a lie. Simply laying out facts one by one. Becoming a fugitive. Losing your position in the knight order. Having nowhere to return to. What all of that would mean, Aira herself knew better than anyone—he spoke it knowing that she understood. "—you will become a fugitive," Vektor finished. Silence fell. Aira looked at the sword by the wall. Vektor looked at it too. A long silence dropped between them. Wind cried outside. The chill of pre-dawn seeped into the stone room. Aira turned toward the sword. There were no words. Only her eyes answered. That was all. Vektor narrowed his eyes. There was something sad in his expression. Yet he was definitely smiling. A gentle smile, quiet, mixed with resignation and something else. "Go," Vektor said. Three words. Aira bowed deeply. No words came. She took the sword, threw on her coat, and headed for the door. From behind her, in barely audible volume, Vektor whispered something. Aira didn't look back. She passed through the door. Stepped out into the stone corridor. Started running. She didn't understand why her eyes were hot. She searched for a reason. Not fear. Not regret. Vektor was a good person—she knew that. He had said goodbye with honest kindness and sincerity. That. That one point. Running, Aira still couldn't sort it out. ──── The rendezvous was at the corner of the northwest passage. The moment four sets of footsteps stopped in the stone corridor where the smoke had thinned. Aira appeared there. Her eyes met Raid's. One second of silence. That was enough—the current number of people, the status of the escape route, how far they'd come. Shared without words in a single second of eye contact. Only those who had spent long time together could manage such efficient confirmation without waste. Aira immediately took the rear position and drew her sword. Raid's eyes narrowed for just a beat. He said nothing. Simply turned forward. That alone carried the meaning of "rendezvous complete." Lilia glanced sideways at Aira. Aira's green eyes looked ahead down the corridor. Her expression was calm. But the corners of her eyes were slightly red. Lilia noticed and said nothing. Footsteps came from behind. Heavy. Multiple. The sound of armor. This time not a drunk—that much was clear from the regularity of the sound alone. "They're pursuing us," Min said. "I know," Raid replied. They emerged into a narrow stone alley. Walls on both sides, a small plaza ahead. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the stone. Knights appeared behind them. Four, no—five. All armed. Aira stepped forward. Her sword caught the moonlight, shining white. Combat began. Aira's movements were swift. She deflected the first opponent with the flat of her blade, sent him sprawling, then sidestepped the second's charge and pushed him back with her elbow. Her movements were emotionless. Training had soaked into her body—swordwork without waste. Raid squeezed his magical power from behind. The scar on his left arm grew faintly warm. He used his dwindling output only where it mattered. When the third opponent raised his sword high, Raid sent a thin thread of magical power along the stone tiles beneath his feet—and the man's legs slipped out from under him. His large frame collapsed onto the stone. "Your Majesty, please fall back!" Min called. "If I step forward, I can finish all of them," Raid said. "Your back wound—" Gen started. "Shut up," both Raid and Aira said in perfect unison. Gen closed his mouth. Combat continued. The sound of steel as Aira parried the fourth opponent's blade. A small white flash as Raid momentarily stole the fifth opponent's vision with magical light. Min quickly circled around and swept the knight's legs. In all this, only Gen didn't move. When Lilia glanced sideways—Gen's eyes were faintly glowing. He was crying. "Wait, why are you crying?" Lilia started to say in a low voice. The instant she spoke, Aira, pushing back a knight, reached out and grabbed Lilia by the scruff of her neck, pulling her back hard. Lilia's mouth snapped shut. Gen, still crying, quietly moved to support the combat. ──── They passed through the small eastern gate in the outer wall of the royal capital when the sky began turning gray. The light of dawn was weak, illuminating only the outlines. Beyond the stone gate, the smell of grass. Outside the imperial capital Verga, the air was different—not the smell of stone and people, but soil and pre-dawn moisture mixed together, a smell like the frontier. Five people emerged outside. Min checked their surroundings. No one. No sound of pursuers. "We transfer," Min said. Gen nodded beside him. His eyes were still slightly red. The two faced each other. Min chanted something briefly, and their outlines blurred. The light of transfer—a spell technique passed down in the magical continent that sent people to specific locations—enveloped them both. Just before they vanished, both their voices aligned. "Your Majesty, may fortune favor you in battle," Min and Gen said in perfect unison. Raid didn't laugh. He simply nodded once, briefly. The two disappeared. Three people remained in the gray light of dawn. For a while, no one said anything. Lilia was looking at the back of Raid's coat. She'd been concerned about it since they were in the capital. Since the moment Raid appeared in the prison—throughout the combat, while running—she'd been checking the red stain seeping into the back of his coat. Even in the darkness, it was visible. The wound where stone fragments had struck his back was still bleeding. Lilia stepped forward and grabbed the back of his coat. Then she pointed. Directly at the blood stain. "Show me right now," she said. Raid turned around. He looked at Lilia's eyes. Her odd eyes—pale purple and light amber—didn't waver. The eyes that had trembled with fear in the stone cell last night and these eyes now were different colors. "It's nothing serious," Raid said. "Show me," Lilia repeated. She didn't change her tone. But she didn't back down. Pointing, silent, just looking straight at him. Her eyes refused excuses. Raid looked at those eyes for a moment. There was the same unyielding gaze he had once shown Lilia. The girl who had been protected was now looking with the eyes of a protector—Raid had no words to name that transformation. But something deep in his chest moved quietly. "...Later," Raid said. He gave in. Briefly, but definitely. Lilia's expression softened slightly. She wasn't smiling completely. But the lips that had been tightly pressed together relaxed just a little. Aira stood a short distance from the three of them. Her back to the outer wall, facing forward. The light of dawn illuminated her reddish-brown long hair softly. The hair tied back at her nape swayed in the morning breeze, one strand catching the wind. "I will accompany you as part of my duties," Aira said. Her voice was crisp and calm. Emotion suppressed. Her usual voice. Except the final syllable of her sentence wavered slightly on her breath. Just for an instant, it rippled and faded. Aira still hadn't sorted out why her eyes had grown hot while running. Vektor's "Go" and his smile kept catching in her chest, refusing to disappear. Why being sent off sincerely by a good person felt like this—she couldn't put it into words. Raid checked the bandage on Lilia's wrist while answering without turning toward Aira. "Understood," he said. Two words. But the way he paced them showed he had heard. The wavering in her voice. He pretended not to notice—that consideration was his maximum courtesy to Aira. Lilia said nothing either. A quiet atmosphere settled between the three. The light of dawn gradually grew brighter. The stone walls of the imperial capital Verga receded into the distance behind them. Raid began walking. Inside his coat, the black short blade—the summoning wedge—swayed faintly. The scar on his left arm ached slightly in the morning chill. Lilia fell into step beside him. Aira took the rear position for the three. The three of them walked away from the royal capital. Th