Inside the carriage, silence lingered for a few moments after Frisca finished her report.
The former patriarch of the Hall Family lightly rubbed his beard while contemplating the information. Outside the windows, the noises coming from the Grand Bazaar continuously drifted into the carriage, yet his thoughts remained focused elsewhere.
"Hmmm, so he really did survive the curse. How unbelievable."
Frisca glanced toward her grandfather before asking,
"Have you ever heard of someone doing the same, Grandpa?"
The elderly man leaned back against his seat.
"There are certainly stories about it."
His gaze drifted toward the ceiling.
"But none of them were ever verified as true."
The answer was immediate.
For as long as he could remember, the Curse of the Surface had always been considered a death sentence. Once the symptoms reached a certain point, the victim's fate was already determined.
There had been rumors over the centuries.
Legends.
Folk tales.
Stories passed down from one generation to another.
Yet none had ever been proven.
Which made Aton Lyn's survival all the more extraordinary.
"The remaining lad of the Lyn Family really has something in him."
The old man chuckled softly before looking toward his granddaughter.
"Your decision to remain associated with him was the correct one."
Then he laughed.
"Hahaha, that's why you're my favorite grandchild, Frisca."
Frisca immediately rolled her eyes.
"I simply didn't want our family's relationship with the Lyn Family to worsen over something trivial."
The old man waved his hand dismissively.
"Whatever your reasons were, they no longer matter."
A mischievous smile gradually appeared on his face.
"What matters now is your next move."
Frisca suddenly felt a bad premonition.
Unfortunately, her grandfather did not disappoint.
"So?"
He looked directly at her.
"Are you going to marry him?"
Frisca rolled her eyes for the second time.
"Of course not."
Her answer came without hesitation.
"Stop bringing that topic up, Grandpa."
She crossed her arms.
"If you continue, I'm not talking to you for a month."
The threat only made the old man laugh harder.
"Why are you so determined to deny it?"
His shoulders trembled from amusement.
"He's your fiancé on paper."
Then he casually delivered another attack.
"Just marry him, consummate the marriage, and give me a great-grandchild."
Frisca's eyebrow twitched.
The old man continued speaking as though discussing business.
"When that happens, controlling the Lyn Family's businesses and properties will become much easier."
This time, Frisca rolled her eyes for the third time.
Then she turned her head toward the window.
"I'm not talking to you anymore."
The old man laughed heartily.
The reaction only made him more amused.
After a while, however, his laughter gradually subsided.
"Don't be upset, Frisca."
The teasing finally stopped.
"I won't interfere with your romantic affairs."
Frisca remained silent.
The old man sighed.
"However, you should remember that you're already at the proper age to bear a child."
The moment those words entered her ears, Frisca immediately covered them with both palms.
"If you continue delaying, you'll either have none at all or eventually risk complications during childbirth."
"I'm not hearing anything."
The response came instantly.
Frisca even squeezed her eyes shut as though doing so would somehow make the conversation disappear.
Seeing her reaction, the old man could only shake his head.
A defeated sigh escaped his mouth.
The carriage eventually fell silent afterward.
Outside, the sounds of merchants and visitors gradually became louder as they drew closer to the Grand Bazaar's central district. The wheels rolled steadily across the stone-paved roads while the escorting guards maintained their formation around the vehicle.
For several minutes, neither grandfather nor granddaughter spoke.
Then—
Knock.
A light knocking sound came from the small front door separating the passenger compartment from the coachman's seat.
The former patriarch raised an eyebrow.
Without delay, he opened the small sliding window positioned near the front of the carriage.
The coachman's respectful voice immediately followed.
"Greetings, my lord."
The old man nodded.
"What is it?"
"My apologies for disturbing your peace, but we have received new information regarding the young master of the Lyn Family."
That statement immediately drew the attention of both passengers.
"Oh?"
The old man's eyes narrowed slightly.
"What information?"
The coachman replied without delay.
"There are rumors claiming that the young master intends to attend the Grand Bazaar and is already on his way here."
Frisca looked away from the window.
Meanwhile, the old man remained thoughtful.
"However," the coachman continued, "we could not verify the information."
"Why not?"
"Our informants stated that the rumors are primarily being spread by beggars throughout several districts."
The old man lightly stroked his beard.
"Hmmm."
His eyes briefly closed.
Then a few seconds later, he spoke.
"That should be easy enough to verify."
The coachman silently listened.
"That lad was already seen leaving the Lyn Family's territory this morning."
The old man calmly continued.
"Coordinate with the others and determine whether the Lyn Family's carriage is returning toward their territory or continuing toward the Grand Bazaar."
"If it's heading home, then the rumor is likely false."
"If it's moving toward the plaza..."
The old man did not finish the sentence.
The implication was obvious.
The coachman immediately lowered his head.
"As you wish, my lord."
The former patriarch lightly stroked his beard after the coachman closed the window. The matter should have already been settled, yet something continued bothering him. After thinking about it for a moment, his gaze eventually landed on the young woman sitting across from him.
"What's that about?" he suddenly asked.
Frisca looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
The old man tapped the armrest lightly.
"Did you invite him to the Grand Bazaar?"
Frisca immediately understood what her grandfather meant.
"Naturally, I did."
Her answer came without hesitation.
"However, I never received any response from their side. I assumed his condition wasn't good enough to attend, so I didn't bother following up on the matter."
The old man nodded slowly.
That explanation made sense.
If Aton had truly been struggling between life and death over the past few weeks, attending a crowded event such as the Grand Bazaar would have been the last thing on anyone's mind.
"Hmm..."
The old man leaned back slightly.
"Then that makes the rumor even stranger."
His fingers continued brushing through his short beard.
"That lad doesn't strike me as someone who would attend a place uninvited."
Frisca quietly listened.
"Which means the rumor is likely not credible."
The old man fell silent for several moments.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Now, why would someone spread such a rumor?"
The question was directed at no one in particular.
Yet his gaze was clearly fixed on his granddaughter.
Frisca immediately noticed.
"Don't look at me like that, Grandpa."
The old man raised an eyebrow.
"Even if someone from the Lyn Family participating in the Grand Bazaar would benefit us, this rumor isn't my doing."
She crossed her arms.
"I'm not foolish enough to damage our relationship with them over such a petty tactic."
Her answer came so naturally that the old man immediately believed her.
There was simply no reason not to.
Frisca could be stubborn at times, but she was never shortsighted.
Which only made the situation more puzzling.
"I see."
The old man returned his attention to the window.
"If it isn't you, then I can't think of many people who would actually benefit from this rumor."
The carriage continued rolling forward while he quietly contemplated the matter.
Several possibilities appeared within his mind.
Most were quickly discarded.
Eventually, one theory remained.
"Hmmm..."
His fingers paused.
"Perhaps the merchants?"
Frisca tilted her head slightly.
The old man continued.
"The boy has become quite the topic within the city lately. Many people wanted to know whether he truly survived."
He glanced toward the busy streets outside.
"If enough people become convinced that he'll appear at the Grand Bazaar, then naturally more visitors will gather here."
Understanding slowly appeared on Frisca's face.
The explanation was not perfect.
However, neither of them could think of a better one.
"Perhaps you're right, Grandpa."
She nodded lightly.
"Many people wanted to see his condition with their own eyes. Maybe they're simply spreading the rumor to attract more customers to the Bazaar."
The old man hummed in agreement.
Although the explanation still felt somewhat lacking, it was at least plausible enough to satisfy his curiosity for now.
The carriage eventually fell silent once more as it continued its journey toward the heart of the Grand Bazaar.
...
Meanwhile, on one of the main streets leading toward the plaza, two familiar figures emerged from the crowd.
Both wore gray robes over dark blue clothing while improvised cloth coverings concealed most of their faces. Only their eyes and the thin white horns protruding from their foreheads remained visible.
The pair had spent the past hour searching various districts without success.
Unfortunately, the rumors spreading throughout the city had eventually reached their ears as well.
The first man glanced toward the direction where a luxurious carriage had just disappeared moments earlier.
"Hey."
His voice was low.
"Do you think the rumor is true?"
The second man remained silent for a moment.
"Possibly."
The answer immediately surprised his companion.
The second man narrowed his eyes.
"The brat may have already obtained the Hall Family's protection."
His gaze remained fixed on the bustling crowd.
"If that's the case, then spreading this rumor would make sense."
The first man frowned.
"What do you mean?"
The second man patiently explained.
"The rumor could be intended to force us into revealing ourselves."
He continued.
"Or perhaps it's meant to discourage us from continuing the assassination altogether."
The first man's expression immediately darkened.
"So what now?"
His frustration became apparent.
"Are we abandoning the task?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Dammit! We were so close!"
The second man slowly turned his head and looked at him.
The annoyance in his eyes was obvious.
"What exactly do you plan to do?"
The question immediately silenced the first man.
The second man continued before he could answer.
"Barge into the Grand Bazaar?"
His voice carried a hint of mockery.
"Fight the Hall Family?"
The first man's expression became uglier.
The second man wasn't finished.
"For all we know, the brat could have already informed them about us. There's nothing we can do if the Hall Family becomes involved."
Then he stared directly at his companion.
"But if you truly wish to die, feel free to do it alone."
The first man immediately clicked his tongue.
"Tsk."
He looked away.
"You're quite a coward."
The second man's expression darkened.
"I'm simply not a fool."
For several moments, the two stared at each other in silence.
The atmosphere between them gradually became tense.
Eventually, the first man sighed and raised both hands in surrender.
"Alright."
"I'm just saying."
The second man snorted but did not pursue the matter further. And so, the argument ended there.
Neither of them noticed the irony of the situation.
The person they had been searching for all this time was much closer than they realized.
...