“A circus troupe, huh…”
Yuri muttered under her breath.
“Well, they’ll handle it themselves.”
She didn’t pay much attention to the innkeeper’s words. No matter what story the fugitives had, her priority was getting to Valshard as soon as possible.
“We’re leaving early in the morning, so everyone get some rest.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Francesco grumbled.
“Is this the best this inn can offer? The bed’s so uncomfortable. I want something soft…”
“Francesco.”
“Yeah?”
“If you don’t want to lie on the floor, just sleep.”
“Alright…”
Yuri made a habit of teasing Francesco. Ever since Sibylla’s incident, she’d noticed he had a knack for attracting trouble.
Even if Francesco regained his strength, Yuri was confident she could handle him if he stepped out of line, so she never held back.
“Damn it…”
Jared spoke to Francesco with a knowing look.
“Our lord has a bit of a prickly personality, doesn’t he?”
“Tell me about it.”
“Maybe he needs something sweet…”
“More like a drink…”
“Oh, that sounds good. Let’s have a drink later…”
Yuri took a room by herself, while Jared and Francesco shared one, and Simon and Guiness shared another.
Ignoring the others, Yuri went to her room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she leaned against Guilty, closed her eyes, and drifted into thought.
Ultimately, she had to eliminate both Cedric and the Dark Angel Secretary.
She vaguely sensed that to do so, she needed to master both the Soul Severing Technique and the power of Chaos.
But it wasn’t easy.
Chaos summoned the mind’s torment.
Whenever she closed her eyes, distorted images flooded her mind, forcing her to endure endless hours of mental struggle. Even now, intrusive thoughts twisted into warped shapes invaded her head.
Among this chaotic randomness, it was Yuri’s task to find a path.
Suddenly, she thought of Cory.
The power of Chaos resembled a half-orc—lacking consistency, each individual took a different form. Most were incomplete and faded away, but occasionally, like Cory, a miraculous being born with the structure of a verbal magic organ would emerge.
Yuri sighed and muttered, “I hope he’s learning well from that bastard.”
To Yuri, Cruar wasn’t evil at heart, but his mental state was unstable. Especially with his frequent muttering, it seemed like madness could strike at any moment.
Still, Yuri believed Cory would manage.
He seemed fragile on the surface, but inside, he was tough.
She hoped Cory would soon master the verbal magic and return to become a powerful asset in the fight against the Empire.
“Hmm…”
Noisy sounds kept drifting in from outside. It seemed the villagers were still chasing after the circus troupe members who had escaped.
“There! Over there!”
“No, this way!”
Standing by the window, Yuri saw a group rushing by, torches in hand.
“If you catch them, there’s a reward. Just stay alive and get them!”
“They’re just slave brats, no worries.”
“When you find them, beat them with sticks!”
Yuri rubbed her chin.
She didn’t want to meddle, but somehow their words rubbed her the wrong way.
“Hmm…”
Gripping Guilty, she flung open the window and jumped down.
Though it was a fall from the second floor, she landed silently.
Slipping into the alley, she melted into the shadows. Using her ki-sense, she tracked the fugitives’ positions and ran along the village’s hidden paths. Occasionally, villagers passed by, but none noticed her presence.
Yuri moved in the opposite direction from everyone else.
The fugitives were clever. They’d created distractions in several places to divert attention and slipped away in the opposite direction. No one but Yuri had caught on.
She stopped in front of a large warehouse on the village outskirts. It was sizable, likely shared by several users.
“Hmm…”
Glancing around, Yuri knocked on the door.
Through her ki-sense, she felt the fugitives inside stiffen.
She opened the worn door and stepped inside.
“Hey.”
Immediately, something flew at her.
“Ha!”
The weapon was a farming tool stored inside the warehouse. Yuri easily dodged, and the attacker stumbled and fell.
“Why so hostile?”
“Eek…!”
Another person charged with an iron skewer. Yuri kicked him down without hesitation.
“Ugh!”
“Hit her!”
Suddenly, a throwing knife whistled from behind. Yuri tilted her body and dodged; the missed blade grazed the cheek of one of the fugitives standing nearby.
“Eek!”
“Sorry!”
Another knife flew. Yuri waved her hand through the air, and the knife landed in her palm.
She tossed the blade back casually, eyeing her opponent.
“Not bad at throwing knives. Were you a circus performer?”
Three circus troupe members were hiding inside the warehouse.
Two stood frozen in fear, while the short man who’d thrown the knives slowly slipped his hand into his pocket, staring at Yuri.
Yuri shrugged.
“You look like the guy who used to throw knives at apples on people’s heads. One more stunt like that, and I’ll kill you.”
Her smile was a threat, and the man froze with his hand still in his pocket.
From just what she’d seen, it was clear Yuri was a formidable opponent.
“I’m not here to catch you, so calm down.”
Yuri scanned the three faces inside. They all looked ordinary. The knife thrower was short but otherwise unremarkable.
“So, why did you run away from the circus?”
They said nothing.
Yuri drew Guilty and shook it.
“I have a knife too. Let’s settle this with words while we still can. Got it?”
Her words weren’t a threat—they were fact. If she wanted, these three would be dead and sprawled across the warehouse in an instant.
“Well? Why did you run?”
One of the men standing quietly at the back spoke up.
“The circus leader tried to kill us.”
“What?”
“A rich noble hired a swordsman to kill us. For fun. The leader lets him do whatever he wants as long as he gets paid. We ran to save our lives.”
Their story went like this:
One day, a wealthy noble from the Empire came as a client, and they performed for him. During the show, the noble introduced a swordsman he’d brought along and said if they could dodge his blade, they’d be spared.
But the swordsman was no ordinary fighter.
“Not only was it impossible to dodge, but even watching was unbearable. It was like he was toying with our lives.”
“I see.”
“Our turn was the next day, but we were too scared and ran.”
Yuri nodded. There were many like that noble who’d lost their minds.
“I see.”
“Please spare us.”
“I told you, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Yuri said.
She handed them something—a pouch filled with money.
“Take this and run somewhere.”
“Uh…”
The circus members stared at her in disbelief. Yuri smiled.
“My arm’s getting tired.”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you so much…”
They bowed their heads in gratitude. Yuri shrugged.
“It’s nothing. What good’s money? The future’s the real worry. That’s on you.”
The circus would keep hunting them. A few coins wouldn’t solve anything. They’d have to keep running.
“All because of that half-orc bastard…”
One of the troupe muttered. The word “half-orc” caught Yuri’s attention.
“Hm?”
He didn’t respond, as if talking to himself.
Yuri asked.
“Hey, what did you just say?”
“Huh?”
“You said half-orc, right?”
“Ah…”
There were probably other half-orcs besides Cory, but Yuri couldn’t help feeling concerned.
“Well, you see, our circus used to have a half-orc.”
He described the half-orc as lazy, selfish, greedy for money, and a lone wolf who looked down on the others.
“Hmm…”
So that was why the noble brought in the swordsman.
That troublesome half-orc had upset the noble’s mood, and unaware of this, the noble tried to punish the troupe by putting the swordsman on stage.
The noble was a ruthless, heartless bastard who ordered the swordsman to swing his blade at the entire troupe. The leader negotiated to postpone the attack.
Meanwhile, some troupe members escaped—that was them.
“Is that half-orc dead?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“What was his name?”
Yuri, who had been quietly listening, asked. They exchanged glances and hesitated.
“Name? Half-orcs don’t really have names. We just called him this or that.”
“Yes. He didn’t have a proper name.”
“Really?”
Yuri tilted her head.
“Yeah. He was a half-orc, so he barely spoke.”
“I see.”
Yuri wondered if that half-orc was Cory, but their words made her give up the thought.
Cory spoke fluently—nothing like the half-orc they described.
“Alright. The villagers are looking for you, so go quickly.”
“Yes, yes…”
Yuri left the warehouse.
The circus members whispered among themselves, then bowed to Yuri before heading out of the village.
Where they’d go next was uncertain, but it would be a tough journey.
“I’m just going to get some sleep.”
Muttering to herself, Yuri was turning away when she suddenly noticed villagers running toward this spot.
“Hm?”
She quickly slipped back into the shadows.
It seemed the circus troupe fugitives heading out of the village were about to run into the villagers after all. Yuri scratched her head.
“This is bad…”
Both sides were armed with weapons.
The villagers outnumbered the troupe by far, but among the circus performers was an acrobat who threw daggers. If he decided to target people deliberately, quite a few could end up dead.
Yuri fell into thought again.
If he intervened, he could prevent many deaths.
But she had no idea which side she should help.
“Kill them!”
“Aaaah!”
The two groups clashed.
Yuri folded her arms and watched thoughtfully.
Screams echoed through the air.
“Hmm…”
He decided to leave them be. It wasn’t a situation where anyone could say who was right or wrong. It wasn’t a matter for him to get involved in.
Like flowers blooming in the field—some blossoming after their own struggles, others simply withering away—this was a fight they had chosen themselves, and they would have to find their own answers.
A few days earlier.
“L-Lord Roland?”
Cory asked, looking at the swordsman whose face was hidden.
His appearance was so different from the Roland she knew, yet somehow, looking at him brought that person to mind.
Roland was a noble but never flaunted his status; he was kind to everyone. He was a man Cory respected as much as Yuri Briol.
“Are you Lord Roland?”
But the man didn’t answer.
“Why are you here? And why do you look like that…?”
“I am not Roland.”
The man replied with a bitter laugh. His voice was rough and hoarse, as if someone had scraped his throat raw.
Still, hearing that voice only made Cory more certain.
“You are Lord Roland, aren’t you? How…?”
Tears welled up in Cory’s eyes.
“Lord Roland, it’s me, Cory.”
The man she believed to be Roland slowly drew his sword. Undeterred, Cory stepped closer and spoke.
“Lord Roland, please come with me to Prince Yuri…”
In that instant, the sword swung toward Cory’s neck.