It was already ten in the evening when the party gathered around a long table in the inn’s dining hall. Most of them had finished eating—everyone except Abraham.“When are you going to be done?” Elaine asked, irritation creeping into her voice.“This is my last plate. Bear with me,” Abraham replied, shoveling down sandwich after sandwich.“You’ve said that for the last thirty minutes,” Marcus muttered. “Elaine, just explain the plan while our fearless leader eats himself to death.”Elaine rolled her eyes but nodded. “Fine.”She leaned forward, lowering her voice slightly. “Our objective is to find leads on the assassin. We’ll gather information from wherever we can—brothels, random civilians, bandits, criminals. Anyone who might have a reason to hate them.”She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “This assassin has ruined business for every outlaw in town. The knights are on full alert every night now. Thievery is down. Smuggling is down. Everyone’s angry.”Elaine glanced

After their fourth—and final—round, the girls finally admitted defeat.Breathing heavily, they collapsed onto the bed, laughing breathlessly while Abraham casually pulled on his pants and brown leather boots, looking more energized than tired.“Sir,” one of the girls said between laughs, “can we get cleaned up first? Drinking while sweaty isn’t exactly pleasant.”“Of course,” Abraham replied easily. “Take your time. I’ll wait.”The two girls gathered their clothes and headed downstairs toward their quarters. Moments later, a server approached Abraham’s room, balancing a tray stacked with fresh bottles and food.She never reached the door.A hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her silently into the adjacent room.Inside Abraham’s room, he finished buttoning his shirt and slipped on his light armor. He sighed, lifted a bottle of rice wine, and took a long drink.“So… it begins.”He set the bottle down, checked his sword—still secured at his waist—then calmly stepped outside. He moved t

An hour had passed since the argument.Elaine and Maia walked side by side through the narrow streets, neither of them speaking. The bandit district loomed ahead—loud, lawless, and reeking of arrogance. Men laughed openly in the streets, weapons visible, eyes sharp with the confidence of people who knew no one would touch them.Maia kept her gaze forward, her jaw tight.Elaine watched her from the corner of her eye.Earlier, Maia had said it plainly—I can kill monsters. But humans? I can’t. I won’t. Elaine hadn’t argued. She hadn’t needed to.And there was another truth Elaine didn’t voice: Maia wasn’t stable enough right now. Not after Marcus. Not after everything. This wasn’t a job for someone whose heart was still bleeding.So Elaine would be the one to dirty her hands.She hated that it made sense.Marcus was gone—officially sworn into the Order of the Knights. Rumors traveled fast, and they all said the same thing: he was already climbing. Right-hand man to the Angel herself. A p

“What do you mean… blood?”Abraham’s voice was low, strained, as if saying the word alone made his chest tighten. The confusion that had been gnawing at him for weeks suddenly found a shape—and it terrified him.Zeus took a long drink before answering.“Fifteen years before the Demon King’s downfall,” he said calmly, “rumors spread that he had fathered a child.”Abraham stiffened.“The woman was human. A normal village girl. No magic. No noble blood. Just… human.”Zeus’s gaze darkened.“She lived in the Fifth Kingdom. A village closest to the Dark Realm—home to countless Holy Knights. They prided themselves on being the purest land in the kingdom.”He paused.“When word spread that she had loved the Demon King, the villagers panicked. They called it corruption. Blasphemy. To protect their reputation, they tied her to a pike… and burned her alive.”Abraham’s hands clenched.“But the child,” Zeus continued, “had already been born. An old friend helped the infant escape.”Silence swallowe

Abraham was already cornered.The venom had done its work too well.His limbs felt distant—like they no longer belonged to him. Each breath dragged through his chest, heavy and uneven. Mana refused to answer him properly, slipping through his grasp like water through broken fingers. Even the simplest spell staggered before forming.Angel noticed immediately.“You’re slowing,” he said calmly, circling. “Poison does that.”Abraham tried to shift his footing and nearly stumbled.This wasn’t like fighting bandits.Bandits panicked. Bandits hesitated.Angel did neither.Steel rang as Abraham barely managed to parry another strike, sparks bursting near his face. His arms screamed. His reactions were late—too late.“You’re strong,” Angel admitted. “But strength without refinement is just noise.”He struck again.And again.Abraham blocked, retreated, blocked——and failed.The spear grazed his shoulder, burning even through armor. He hissed, teeth clenched, refusing to scream.Angel smiled.El