The plateau before dawn held almost no sound. The eastern ridge was dark, with only the outline of the Aobine mountain range cut out by starlight. There was wind. The usual east wind, but tonight it carried moisture. Raid walked along the village's perimeter, considering what that moisture meant. ——It was three days ago that Aira said "I hate them" before the bonfire. Raid still hadn't fully digested those words. He neither denied nor affirmed them. He'd only replied, "I see." He still didn't know if that was right. But——he had one certainty: it was good that he hadn't pursued her then. Human hatred chooses which fingers touch it. He turned back along the patrol route at the village's edge. Passing beside the medicinal herb processing shed, he was checking the eastern fence when he noticed it. Something in the shadow of a rock. More precisely——something collapsed there. Raid stopped. He immediately channeled magical power through his circuits. The blue scar on his left arm grew