The courtyard floor breathed steam. Molten stone had fused into a warped sheet, its faint glow fading under the cloud of vapor that blanketed the open space. Only the dull, red shimmer of Akrion showed through it. Bjorn, cradling his unconscious little sister in his arms, walked out of the haze and wrenched his hammer free from the thin, half‑cooled layer where it had sunk into molten stone under the tremendous heat. Behind him, Shin burst out at a sprint, heading toward where Ren had landed, while Peter and Jonathan worked at a distance, tying the barely-conscious Marcus.
Minutes had passed since Ren's decisive blow.
Lucius' awareness returned in ragged breaths. Ren rolled him with his foot onto his broken back, and blood immediately ran from Lucius' nose and mouth. Burn‑scarred and pale, Lucius stared up at the night sky. Ren, seeing how shallow his breathing was, realized there wasn't much time left for him.
"You're pretty tough for a human," Ren said.
Lucius chuckled, then coughed blood. "You don't understand how the world works, do you? That's something I should be saying to you."
Shin arrived and stood beside Ren. Lucius, unable to turn his head, asked, "Is that you, Shin?"
Shin said nothing, just watched him.
"You're still the same as always," Lucius went on, voice thinning. "Just so you know… I really did try to change. Tried to live that second chance you gave me. But the world kept moving against me, like always. Blue River Fortress was a kn—"
"I need confirmation," Shin cut in. "What exactly happened to Lord Alexander, the previous lord?"
Lucius' eyes flared red. Illusion spread around them like ink through water.
In the vision, Lucius—wearing Orrin's face—stood with his men, holding Lord Alexander at dagger‑point while hostages were restrained nearby. Ren recognized it instantly as the beginning—the first step into everything that followed. The fortress gate boomed shut behind them. Orrin shoved Alexander, and the old man crumpled under his own weight, too weak to stay standing. Up above, one of the men on the wall signaled that the men outside were leaving; his companions relaxed slightly. Orrin paced back and forth, still wired, still anxious.
The lord gathered his strength and pushed himself up on shaky legs.
"Calm down, son. It's not too late," Alexander said, voice gentle. "I know what you've been through."
"Shut up, old man!" Orrin snapped. "You coward—you hid behind these walls like he did! Doing nothing!, you people don't care about the rest of us"
Lord Alexander raised his hands, moving closer. "It's all right. And I am sorry—"
Orrin seized him and drove the dagger into his neck before he could finish. "Shut up, old man. You're all the same."
The moment the blade went in, his men followed his lead. Steel flashed as they executed the hostages. Ren's gaze locked on the man he came with in the winter—the girl's father—as he fell.
The illusion held.
Shin's voice cut through it. "Were you the one who killed Lord Adrian?"
Lucius smiled. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
His eyes glowed again, and the scene changed.
Lucius as Orrin again ,it's a different time and place , he's patrolling the river with his men after the first chimera appeared—standard preparation for the oncoming waves. He rode in full knight armor along the riverbed, horses' hooves splashing through the shallows. He caught a glimpse of himself, distorted in the flowing water.
"You lot, keep going," he called. "I'll wash up and catch up."
The men nodded and rode on.
Lucius dismounted and knelt at the river's edge, splashing water on Orrin's borrowed face , his second chance hiding the criminal beneath . Then he let the illusion drop and stared at his true one, fingertips tracing the burn scars along his forehead and jaw.
A prickle ran down his spine. Someone was watching.
He lifted his head. On the far bank, Lord Adrian sat astride his horse, staring—having just seen the face change.
Lucius' first reaction was pure instinct. He threw his dagger. It buried itself in Adrian's chest.
Adrian looked more surprised than afraid as he toppled from the saddle.
Panic flooded Lucius. He splashed through the river, only a few meters wide, and knelt beside the fallen lord. He yanked the dagger free, breathing hard, recognizing exactly who lay at his feet—and what it would mean if anyone else found him like this.
"Troublesome," he muttered.
He grabbed Adrian's limp body and carved deep, jagged gouges into him with the dagger, mimicking chimera claws. When he was done, he rolled the corpse into the current and watched it drift away.
The red light faded from Lucius' eyes. The illusion dissolved.
"Shin… I've seen…" He coughed violently, blood bubbling at his lips. "A Zenith." His chest rose once more, then sank. His lifeless eyes stayed fixed on the sky.
Shin's face went stiff, shock breaking through his usual calmed face , trying to hide it as he looked up at the sky . Ren caught the reaction and followed his gaze upward.
High above, a weaver's falcon glowed faint red against the dark, its Akrion‑woven form circling. Shin placed a hand on Ren's shoulder and turned them both back toward the fortress.
The sun rose over Maarath, washing its walls in pale gold and burning away a little of the night's horror. A support caravan rolled up the hill, a dozen knights riding at its front. Leading them was a young commander named Colin, recently promoted and already familiar with the group known as the Southern Wind.
He spotted the party's wagon not far from the fortress, its wheels still, the crew gathered around a small fire. Bjorn stood over a pot, pouring soup into bowls for the guards that had been knocked out and who now sat groggy and confused.
Colin approached, and Peter meeting him lifted a hand. "Hey, it's Coliiiin!"
Colin grinned and clasped Peter's hand. Jonathan came up behind, doing the same. "Colin. Long time no see."
"I don't see Lili," Colin said, trying—and failing—to sound casual. A hint of shyness slipped through.
"Yeah, she's sleeping," Peter answered.
Colin swallowed, nodded, then looked past him. "H‑hey. H‑hi, Bjorn."
Bjorn didn't even glance his way, just kept ladling soup. Colin flinched and let it go.
Shin emerged from the fortress with Ren at his side. Colin walked over to meet them.
"Hey, Shin," he called.
"Hello there," Shin replied, shaking his hand. Colin gave Ren a small, polite wave; Ren returned it awkwardly.
Shin briefly explained what had happened in the fortress. With each detail, Colin grew more rigid, discomfort and unease settling into his posture. Shin ended with, "If you and your men can bury their remains, it will restore some of their dignity."
"Yes, of course. Count on us," Colin said, straightening.
Shin nodded and turned back toward the wagon as Colin signaled the caravan to advance toward the gate.
"One more thing," Shin added. "I need to borrow your Akrion weaver unit. There's an important message that has to go out."
Colin turned and called, "Kenji!"
A skinny man stepped forward from among the knights.
"This is Kenji," Colin said.
Shin handed him a small, sealed roll of paper. "Deliver this to the nearest Weaver Watchtower. Have them expedite it to the duke , and check if it's clear and ready. We'll be spending the night there on our way to Erbil City."
Kenji sat down cross‑legged on the ground and closed his eyes. Akrion flowed out of him, gathering in front of his chest, taking shape feather by feather until a falcon made of red light stood there, translucent and alive. Kenji slipped the message into the hollow space inside its glowing body. The bird beat its wings once and surged into the sky.
Ren watched, completely lost and confused with each moment .
An hour later, the caravan had emptied into the courtyard. Under Colin's orders, guards swept through the space, dousing stubborn embers and dragging debris aside before returning to their duties. The party readied itself to depart. Jonathan walked over to Ren and handed him a folded set of clothes and a pair of boots. Ren glanced down at the rags he was still wearing, then back up. "Thank you," he said. Jonathan answered with an awkward smile.
Kenji, the Akrion weaver who had been sitting in the same spot for almost an hour, eyes closed in concentration, finally rose and approached Shin. "The watchtower is empty and clear," he reported. "Its guardian weaver is on duty."
Shin nodded and signaled Bjorn. The wagon creaked into motion, Peter and Jonathan riding ahead on horseback. Shin sprinted a few steps, vaulted up beside Bjorn, and settled on the bench.
Ren, now changed into the new clothes, pushed the wagon's curtain aside and climbed up to sit on Bjorn's other side. He studied the man's sheer size for a moment. Bjorn turned to look at him. They exchanged a small, tired smile as the party rolled away from Maarath Fortress .