= Suna's POV =

  Suna let out a sigh, one so deep it echoed faintly through the tension-filled chamber.

  “Very well, we’ll speak of this again ter…”

  His amber eyes narrowed sharply at the middle-aged man seated before him. There was no mistaking it, the man was none other than the ruler of the Kingdom of Dedonia himself.

  “I’m quite pleased with our discussion today, Suna Althoria. I do hope your promise isn’t a mere fabrication,” the Dedonian leader replied with a sly smile, one that felt more like a decration of war than a gesture of diplomacy.

  Without another word, the sovereign of Altheria turned and left the room. A silence so sharp lingered behind that even the heavily-armored Dedonian guards trembled behind their iron pting.

  Suna inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of Dedonia’s pace, as though trying to decide whether this kingdom would one day reek of gunpowder… or blood.

  His steps were practiced, disciplined, utterly silent. Footsteps that carried nightmares with each movement.

  The capital of Dedonia wasn’t bustling. Its eerily quiet streets didn’t deter Suna from exploring the city.

  Eventually, he turned into an alleyway, only to be noticed by a beggar—one missing parts of his limbs.

  “Oh! M-my lord… I sense such wisdom from your aura. Please, free me… release me from this suffering caused by—”

  His plea was abruptly silenced as a sword pierced his throat, severing his voice at the source.

  “Shhh. Stop speaking… I shall free you soon enough,” Suna whispered. His voice cold, yet oddly gentle. The beggar’s pupils widened in terror.

  With a single motion, Suna raised his sword higher.

  What once was whole… was now split in two.

  No scream. No resistance. It happened in a fsh.

  Before he left, Suna gently draped a sack—once the beggar’s bedding, over the man’s lifeless head, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

  From the distance, the sound of galloping hooves reached his ears.

  Suna’s hand returned to the hilt of his sword—ready again, after having “relieved” one man of his suffering.

  “Your Majesty!? A-are you unharmed??” shouted a knight whose armor bore the crest of wings. His face was hidden behind his helm, but the panic in his voice was impossible to hide.

  “Sir Valoric? Why are you here…” Suna asked calmly, his bde still at the ready, eyeing the other mounted knights gathered behind Valoric.

  “We received word that you were—”

  Suna raised a single hand.

  Valoric halted instantly.

  “I understand… We’re returning. Now.”

  Without further expnation, Suna turned toward his white steed, a striking contrast to the deeds he had just committed.

  With no hesitation, Suna and the knights mounted their horses and rode away from the heart of Dedonia… back toward the Kingdom of Altheria.

  On the way back to the Kingdom of Altheria, one of the knights’ horses suddenly lost its footing—throwing the rider harshly to the ground, right into the chaotic path of the others behind him.

  Without hesitation, one of the mounted knights broke formation, turning his steed around and racing back toward the fallen comrade.

  But it was already too te. Their armor, though forged in steel, stood no chance against the merciless weight of galloping hooves.

  “Leave them,” Suna spoke, his voice devoid of mercy. “What is meant to be gone... shall not return.”

  Valoric remained silent. His mouth, hidden beneath his helmet, stayed tightly shut. A gesture that betrayed how even a seasoned knight could feel the sting of moral conflict.

  From the distance, the Pace of Altheria began to emerge. Standing tall at the heart of Aurathis, a shining symbol of hope, light, and protection for its people.

  But from the eastern side of the castle, dark smoke rose…

  Moments ter, explosions pierced the air, distant yet growing louder. A sound Suna had anticipated from the moment Valoric arrived in Dedonia.

  “Your Majesty! The explosion came from the market district—we must hurry!” Valoric excimed, his horse now galloping side by side with Suna’s.

  Suna, Valoric, and the knights behind them swiftly charged into the eastern quarter of Aurathis—now consumed by chaos.

  Blood stained the cobblestones, and lifeless bodies y scattered across the road.

  From a distance, Suna’s eyes caught sight of a figure who shouldn’t have been there.

  Not now… not here.

  In an instant, his hand tugged the reins, forcing his steed to change course, charging straight toward the hooded figure ahead.

  With a swift, calcuted motion—though undeniably risky. Suna leapt from his saddle just as the horse began to lose control.

  Everything seemed to freeze.

  Silence flooded the white-robed figure’s consciousness, it felt like death brushed past her skin. Then, slowly, time began to move once more.

  “S-Suna?!”

  The voice trembled from beneath the white hood. It was Yoei.

  Suna, his form towering over the smaller figure, lowered himself slightly in front of Yoei, shielding her like a falcon wrapping its wings around its fledglings.

  He said nothing.

  His sharp amber gaze locked onto Yoei—so piercing, it was hard to tell whether it was disgust… or something forbidden.

  Perhaps his eyes spoke more than the expressionless face that masked his thoughts.

  Behind him, the body of an old woman colpsed.

  It wasn’t only Suna who had protected Yoei from that fatal blow.

  Blood began pooling at Suna’s boots.

  The woman’s sacrifice—silent, yet absolute.

  “M-M-Madam—”

  Yoei’s voice cracked, unable to speak the name of the one who once gifted her that precious book.

  Her world felt as though it had shattered in an instant.

  And as the old woman’s head slowly leaned toward her…

  “W-why…”

  Yoei whimpered, burying her face into her blood-stained arm.

  Suna remained motionless—

  Watching Yoei from the moment she smiled in relief, realizing Suna had protected her…

  To now—

  Where she knelt, broken, reaching out to someone Suna had never even known.

  Then suddenly—

  Suna’s hand gripped Yoei’s hair and yanked it back forcefully, forcing the girl’s tear-filled eyes to meet his own.

  “Whose blood do you think you’re crying over?!”

  His voice was drenched in hatred, raw and unfiltered.

  Yet his eyes… still cold, still unreadable.

  Blood now began to trickle from Suna’s back.

  Clearly, the strike hadn’t spared him either.

  The greater destruction was finally halted as the mysterious attackers fell one by one under Valoric and his battalion’s relentless counterattack.

  Now walking toward Suna, Valoric chose not to interfere in the tense exchange between the siblings. Instead, he moved past them, kneeling beside the old woman’s lifeless body behind Suna to inspect her wound.

  "This cut is... precise. Especially for a strike aimed at the victim’s neck," Valoric muttered as he gently lifted the woman’s corpse.

  “We should also bury the other townsfolk, Your Majesty.”

  Hearing this, Suna immediately released his grip on Yoei’s hair and turned his entire body to face Valoric, his posture upright, showing no sign of emotional disturbance.

  "Very well. Once it's done, we have things to discuss. Summon the Aegis Order’s high officers," Suna ordered, his tone calm. Almost indifferent, as if his rage toward Yoei had simply passed like a fleeting gust of wind. He paid no mind to the bloodied bodies of the vilgers and walked away without a backward gnce.

  Valoric could only sigh. He gestured to the knights of the Aegis Order, who quickly moved to assist in carrying the deceased to a proper resting pce.

  Still seated in a pool of blood, her gaze cast down and empty, Yoei remained silent. Valoric approached her, his steps heavy, as though heading toward something far more dreadful than death.

  “Take her head with you... didn’t you care about her?” he said. But no response came from Yoei. Gently, Valoric reached out toward her shoulder.

  Just before his hand made contact, a strange pressure pushed against him, an invisible force. In that moment, the knight felt as if the girl before him was no longer Yoei.

  A wave of discomfort surged through him. His thoughts raced with endless possibilities. Yet suddenly, the sensation vanished. The world stilled again, because Yoei spoke.

  “Y-yes... I cared about her,” she whispered. Slowly, she rose to her feet and carefully lifted the woman’s remains into her embrace.

  “Uhm... Yoei, perhaps it would be better if—” Valoric began, but stopped himself mid-sentence, as memories of his own rushed in, mirroring what Yoei now faced.

  "...Very well then. Let’s bury those who cannot return."

  Valoric simply watched as Yoei walked away with the other knights. Just before he turned away, something caught his eye—a book, stained with blood, lying abandoned on the ground.

  “Yoei—ah, forgive me... Lady Yoei, isn’t this yours?” Valoric asked gently, lifting the blood-soaked book with care.

  “Leave it. Everything’s been tainted by blood,” Yoei answered coldly, her back still facing him. Her eyes remained fixed on whatever she now held in her hands.

  Not wishing to press her further, Valoric decided to take the book with him, hoping—perhaps foolishly, that he might still do something for Yoei... even if it was only for a book.

  Elsewhere, Suna had reached the pace. Now standing before the door to his chamber, his wrist halted mid-motion as it touched the obsidian handle. He sensed a presence inside. Without hesitation, he opened the door.

  “You’re te, Brother,” said a woman sitting calmly at the edge of his bed, her eyes locked on the view beyond the window. She watched the wounded city below with sharp amber eyes, unblinking.