A little while later…
Vayne stopped again, panting hard. She'd been stubbornly refusing to believe it at first, but now she had to admit it.
She really couldn't land even a single touch on this guy.
Luke stood a short distance away. Looking at Vayne—face blank but forehead slick with sweat—he gave her a scornful look.
"That's it?"
It was only two light words, but to Vayne, it hit like a slap. Humiliation surged up in an instant.
Ignoring how little stamina she had left, she clenched her teeth and charged again. Only now, she had none of her earlier composure—her punches were messy, her rhythm broken.
One punch missed. She stared at Luke with stubborn defiance in her eyes. "If you've got the guts, stop dodging and fight me head-on!"
Luke almost laughed. "You can't even touch me. Where do you get the confidence to think you can beat me if I actually fight back?"
"Shut up!"
Vayne barked and went in again.
Watching from behind, Frey's lips curved into a faint smile.
When she'd first met Vayne, she'd been a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl.
But even then, Vayne rarely spoke, rarely smiled—her mindset and personality were far older than anyone her age.
Through their long journey, Vayne had almost never shown strong emotional swings. That face that should've been bright with youth was often cold as ice, making people feel like they couldn't get close.
Even Frey sometimes didn't know how to start conversations with her.
Yet now, in front of His Highness, Vayne had lost her composure again and again—her emotions rising and falling so clearly you could see it.
Most of it was anger, sure, but Frey still thought it was a good thing.
It proved the girl's heart wasn't dead.
And as Vayne's strength had grown, her mindset had started to float a little too high.
Letting someone her age teach her a lesson would help her see herself clearly.
"Want me to give you one hand?"
As Vayne rushed him again, Luke actually did as she demanded—he stopped dodging and started blocking instead.
While he spoke, he lifted one hand and casually caught her incoming fist.
"No!"
Anger flared in Vayne's eyes. She held nothing back and attacked at full force.
But after dozens of exchanges, she felt it again—something was wrong.
Luke wasn't dodging anymore, only blocking, yet that blocking made Vayne feel miserable and suffocated.
No matter how she attacked, it was like he'd already predicted it. He always moved first.
It made her feel seen through.
And he still didn't even look serious, while her stamina was nearly empty.
He hadn't thrown a single real strike, and she was already close to collapsing from exhausting herself. Vayne's pride teetered on the edge of breaking.
But the more it crushed her, the more she refused to accept it.
Even knowing she was running on fumes, she whipped out a full-power sideways whip kick.
She didn't notice her left foot had landed on a loose pebble. As her right leg snapped out, her left foot slipped—sharp pain twisted through her ankle.
Her whole body lost balance and pitched toward the ground.
The sudden accident caught Vayne completely off guard.
Before she could react, she fell into someone's arms. A large hand steadied her at the waist, warmth spreading through her like a pulse—so warm it made her lose focus for a split second.
When her vision cleared, she saw Luke's eyes—faintly amused, like he was barely holding back laughter.
"Honestly, this is the first time I've ever seen someone manage to trip and eat it while standing still."
That one sentence blew away every other sensation.
All that was left was embarrassment and fury flooding up.
Vayne's reason snapped clean in half.
She tore herself free, glared at Luke, and attacked again without a word.
This time, Luke didn't just block.
He raised a hand, stopped her punch, and flipped his grip to catch her slender wrist—soft with a hint of tenderness under his fingers.
Vayne clenched her teeth and swung her other fist.
Like a lamb offering itself to a tiger, that hand got caught too.
Luke calmly pressed downward, then twisted with controlled force.
Vayne's body spun helplessly. In an instant, both arms were forced behind her back, pinned tight in one of Luke's hands. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free.
The harder she fought, the more her shoulder and arms screamed with pain.
Now she was completely helpless—caught in a reverse hold, unable to do anything.
In that moment, Vayne's confidence collapsed.
She hadn't expected the gap between herself and Luke to be this massive.
He'd only truly moved twice, and she was already pinned, unable to move, at his mercy.
In real combat, her ending wouldn't be any better.
Then—suddenly—the pressure released.
Luke let her go.
This time, Vayne didn't turn around and challenge him again. She walked toward Frey, her expression unreadable, and said in a low voice, "Teacher. I lost."
Seeing her mood sink, Frey wanted to pull her into her arms and comfort her—but she didn't. She only said sternly, "That means you still haven't worked hard enough. And your performance today disappointed me. In a fight, never lose your calm."
Vayne lowered her head and said nothing.
Frey continued, "Go rest. Later, do the close-combat drills I taught you—ten extra sets."
She was, without question, a strict teacher.
Otherwise, Vayne wouldn't have become this strong in such a short time.
Frey had never gone easy on her during training.
If Vayne was going to face powerful enemies in the future, Frey couldn't afford to indulge her.
As for whether this would damage Vayne's mentality—
Frey was sure it wouldn't.
Ever since the Freljord, she had watched Vayne grow from a girl who couldn't protect herself into a real fighter. She still had a long road ahead.
But every time Vayne got knocked down—no matter how badly she was hurt, no matter how hard she failed—she stood back up.
You could beat her in skill, but you couldn't destroy her will.
The difference she'd seen today would only make her thirstier to grow stronger.
That was one of Vayne's rare strengths—one Frey recognized clearly.
The only problem was, perhaps because of that same trait, Vayne was slowly becoming colder and more ruthless as a person.
"Yes, Teacher."
Vayne answered and went to the side to sit and recover.
As Luke walked toward her, she said with a flat, cold tone, "Go ahead. Humiliate me however you want."
Her pride had been smashed, and she'd been forced to recognize her own weakness.
Right now, she wasn't much different from the girl who once went to the Freljord to seek power.
As the loser, no matter how Luke mocked her, she wouldn't object.
She was already prepared for it.
But Luke didn't mock her. The scorn in his eyes was gone. He sat down beside her.
"Doesn't your foot hurt?"
Vayne's expression faltered for a moment. She didn't turn her head, only stared forward stiffly. "That has nothing to do with you."
As she spoke, she pulled her left foot back slightly, like she was trying to hide it.
Frey noticed something off immediately. She stood and asked, "What's wrong with your foot?"
Vayne knew she couldn't hide it now. Her voice dropped without her meaning to. "I twisted it a little. It's fine."
Back when she trained and sparred with Frey, she got hurt sometimes. She'd twisted an ankle before, too, and Frey would always treat it.
But today, she didn't want to admit it.
Even for Vayne, hurting her own ankle while trying to hit someone else was humiliating.
So even though every step hurt like hell, she refused to show it.
She hadn't expected Luke to notice anyway.
Why would he even catch that?
Frey came closer, crouched, lifted Vayne's lower leg, and tugged the fabric up a little. Her brow furrowed. "Were you planning to do the ten extra sets I assigned you while carrying this?"
A dark bruise had already bloomed around Vayne's pale ankle—painful just to look at.
If Luke hadn't pointed it out, Vayne would've forced herself through the extra drills with that injury.
How much would that hurt?
And with Vayne's personality, she absolutely would've done it.
Sensing her teacher's anger building again, Vayne hurried to explain, "I've twisted it before, so I thought it was fine."
Frey's face turned frosty as she scolded, "Have you forgotten what I told you? Never treat your body like it doesn't matter. You've truly disappointed me, Vayne."
For the sake of revenge, this child never cherished her own body. Training through injuries in secret wasn't a one-time thing.
Yes, it made her stronger.
But some damage didn't go away—it stayed forever.
That was why Frey had set a hard rule: it would never happen again.
And yet Vayne had still done it today.
Vayne lowered her head, bracing herself to get chewed out.
Compared to Luke's mockery, she feared Frey's disappointment far more.
But this time, Frey didn't keep scolding.
She removed Vayne's left shoe, then peeled off her sock, revealing a delicate, perfectly shaped foot.
Her foot was beautiful—slender, the toes naturally drawn together, soft and pale with faint veins visible along the top, the arch clean and graceful.
Only the ankle was marked by a spreading bruise, showing the sprain wasn't mild at all.
"You really leave me at a loss."
Frey sighed.
When she noticed Luke's gaze drifting over, a sudden wave of shame rose in Vayne for no reason at all.
"I'll get medicine."
Luke only looked once, then stood and went inside.
He returned shortly after with a small bottle and handed it to Frey.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
Gratitude showed in Frey's eyes as she took it and uncapped it. A rich medicinal aroma rose immediately.
Even Vayne could smell it.
As Frey carefully poured out a little, she asked, "This is valuable, isn't it?"
Luke answered casually, "It's alright."
On the market, it definitely didn't exist—that much was certain.
"We've caused you trouble."
Frey apologized as she applied the ointment to the bruised area in small, careful amounts, refusing to waste any.
As she rubbed it in, pain flared, but Vayne clenched her teeth and didn't make a sound.
"It's not trouble," Luke said. "But you should really make her more careful from now on. People who manage to injure themselves while trying to kick someone… aren't exactly common."
In the end, he still teased her. Then he stood and headed toward the kitchen.
Vayne clenched her jaw, looked up after him for a second, then turned her gaze forward again.
Oddly, she didn't even feel angry.
But deep down, she swore silently—one day, she would repay every bit of today's humiliation.
In front of her, Frey applied the ointment with patient focus, gentle and careful. Cool relief spread through Vayne's ankle.
Looking at her teacher's face, warmth rose in Vayne's cold heart.
Not long after, Luke finished breakfast.
While they ate, there were a few brief exchanges.
Luke asked with some curiosity, "Why did you come to Edessa?"
He knew a little about Frey and Vayne, but not much. He was still curious about their route.
Vayne's mouth was occupied by the fragrant breakfast, so she didn't snap at him. She just ate quietly.
"To be honest," Frey said after hesitating, "we're hunting a demon."
Noticing Luke's interest, she continued.
"During our travels, we heard a lead in a tavern and followed it all the way here."
Since Luke already knew they were demon hunters, there was no reason to hide their goal.
At the mention of the demon, Vayne paused for the briefest moment while eating. A flicker of hatred crossed her eyes—there, and gone.
Over the past two years, she'd learned to bury that hatred deep.
Luke asked, "Am I slowing you down?"
Frey shook her head immediately. "Of course not. Without you, Vayne's venom injury might not have been treatable at all. And besides, it's been almost three months since we got the lead. We came here mainly to confirm whether it's true."
According to what they'd heard, the demon's valley was farther west beyond Edessa.
If three months had already passed, then a few extra days didn't matter.
"So Demacia has demons too," Luke murmured, almost like he was speaking to himself, looking up at the bright blue sky.
In a country filled with petricite groves, you'd think dark power would be driven out.
A lot of people believed Demacia was safe.
At least, it looked that way on the surface—peace had held inside the borders for a long time.
But Luke knew the truth.
This land was full of danger.
Demons that hid in the dark loved wandering through Demacia whenever they felt like it. The place was like a fresh donut to them.
And there was even a nightmare-tier boss somewhere out there, hiding in some forgotten corner.
Even Luke could only pray he wouldn't run into it.
After breakfast…
Vayne realized her sprain was already gone.
She stood, took a few steps, and felt no pain at all.
She tugged her pant leg up and looked—her ankle was pale and clean, without a trace of bruising.
Seeing the same thing, Frey realized that ointment wasn't merely "valuable."
In less time than it took to eat breakfast, it had completely healed a swollen, bruised sprain.
If something like that ever appeared on the market, it would be fought over instantly.
It had to be something rare from the royal family.
With that thought, Frey felt even more indebted.
She didn't know that to Luke, the ointment was nothing special—hardly rare at all.
If he wanted, he could fill the estate's storage rooms with it by tomorrow.
With her ankle healed, Vayne began the ten extra sets of close-combat drills.
Luke went back to lying on the rocking chair. The morning air wasn't too hot, but there wasn't a breath of wind.
So he found a round hand fan and lazily fanned himself, enjoying the cool air brushing his face.
Vayne glanced at him while drilling and thought he looked like a lazy landowner.
Who eats breakfast and immediately lies down again?
And why was it that this guy had "slacker" written all over his face, yet she still couldn't beat him?
Vayne was furious about it. The more she thought, the harder she drilled, putting extra force into each movement.
Just as Luke started to feel sleepy again, tempted to take a late morning nap—
Footsteps sounded from outside, and a cry rang out overhead. A bright blue shape swooped down into the courtyard.
Vayne and Frey had seen this Azurite Eagle yesterday, so they weren't alarmed.
A moment later, Valor glided down and landed on the rocking chair, showing Luke a hint of affection.
Then someone walked through the courtyard gate.
It was Quinn.
She came to Luke and saluted. "Good morning, Your Highness."
"Good morning."
Luke returned the greeting. Seeing she wasn't here just to say hello, he asked, "Did something happen?"
Quinn nodded. "News came in this morning. One participant from the Royal Academy has been confirmed dead. The Kingdom Rangers escorting them didn't survive either."
Luke sat up a little, listening more seriously.
People died every day. He wasn't shocked.
Most Royal Academy participants were noble children. They would've known risks existed before signing up.
Even he—a prince—if he ran into something he couldn't handle during the hunt and died, he'd still be dead. No special treatment.
But if even the escorting Kingdom Rangers couldn't survive, then whatever they ran into was clearly powerful.
Quinn's expression was grave. "Based on the Rangers' investigation, they were killed by a One-Horn Striped Tiger. The fight lasted less than a minute."
The One-Horn Striped Tiger was a solitary beast—violent by nature, highly aggressive.
But it preferred remote areas. It didn't usually move toward places with lots of people.
And right now was peak hunting season. There were plenty of hunters in the woods. A creature like that shouldn't have shown up.
That was the problem.
Luke thought for a moment. "Another case like the White Rock Grizzly?"
This was starting to look like more than coincidence.
The White Rock Grizzly that attacked them yesterday. The Tattooed Two-Tailed Snake that attacked Frey and Vayne. And now this One-Horn Striped Tiger.
All three shared one trait: none of it matched normal behavior.
A White Rock Grizzly should've been in rocky terrain, yet it was in the forest.
The Tattooed Two-Tailed Snake preferred sparse woods and wasn't usually that aggressive toward people, yet it attacked Vayne.
And now this One-Horn Striped Tiger—something that avoided crowds—showed up in a busy hunting zone.
Once or twice could be explained away.
But three similar incidents in the same day wasn't that simple.
"Yes," Quinn said, nodding. "And it's not just us. A lot of people hunting have run into the same kind of situation."
Luke nodded. "Any conclusions yet?"
"Still being confirmed."
Quinn continued, "I came to inform you that the academy hunting competition is temporarily suspended. And also, if you don't have to, it would be best not to go into the hunting zone."
"I understand."
Luke nodded again, then asked a few follow-up questions.
Once he confirmed the suspension wouldn't affect his points or ranking, he finally relaxed.
After reporting, Quinn bowed slightly. "I'm going with the unit to investigate the cause, so I'll take my leave now, Your Highness."
Luke smiled at her. "Be careful."
Feeling his concern, warmth flowed through Quinn's chest. She nodded seriously. "I will."
She didn't linger. Quinn left quickly.
Luke lay back down and fanned himself again, but this time the sleepiness was gone.
He suddenly remembered the "task" that older woman had assigned him.
Something about going to a place called Kerr Village to investigate.
Now that he'd thought of it, there was no point dragging it out. He might as well go take a look.
He didn't have anything else to do, anyway.
Decision made, Luke stood from the chair and said over his shoulder, "Get ready. We're heading out."
Frey and Vayne didn't ask questions. They started packing—mostly gear and supplies.
As for Yurna Doer, she acted like usual. She didn't seem to have much to prepare.
Luke changed into something easier to move in, and the group set out together.
Kerr Village was about ten miles south of Edessa—roughly sixteen kilometers.
Not too far. Luke had originally planned to take a carriage the whole way.
But after asking a bit, he gave up and decided to walk instead.
South of the city was mountain trail.
Trying to take a carriage on that route would rattle the wheels apart.
Even a horse would look at it and think about taking a different path. After centuries of footsteps, it had barely become a "road."
On the way, Vayne finally asked, "Where are you going?"
Luke yawned. "Kerr Village."
Vayne asked again, "Why?"
Luke replied, "An older woman told me to investigate what's going on there."
Vayne pressed once more. "Aren't you a prince? Princes still have to run errands?"
Luke noticed she was talking more today than yesterday. He glanced at her with a smile. "That's what I thought too. Apparently, she didn't."
Seeing the smile in his eyes, Vayne abruptly realized she didn't even know why she was asking him questions like that.
Her pretty face turned cold again. She gave a small nod, stared forward, and stopped talking.
Luke watched her go back to her "persona," amused.
On the road, there were occasional bits of idle conversation.
After a full two hours of walking—until the sun rose higher and the air started to warm—they finally saw a small man-made path.
At a bend in the road, a sign pointed the way, marked: Kerr Village.
Following the direction, they reached the village entrance.
Two yawning soldiers stood on either side, leaning lazily like they were half asleep.
At a glance, the village was fairly large, stretching along the mountain line—probably a few hundred households.
When Luke reached the entrance, one soldier asked lazily, as if going through the motions, "Who goes there?"
"Luke Lightshield."
Luke stated his name and showed the Lightshield crest.
"Luke Lightshield…"
The soldier glanced at the crest, muttered the name—then jerked as if struck by lightning and snapped to attention, saluting hard.
"Greetings, Your Highness!"
The other soldier heard it and startled awake instantly, saluting just as sharply.
"Greetings, Your Highness!"
A few nearby households heard the commotion and peeked out curiously.
Luke waved a hand. "Take me to the village chief."
"Yes—this way."
The soldier didn't ask about the three people behind Luke. He turned and led them forward.
"The second prince is here?"
"He really is as good-looking as the rumors say."
"Why is he in our village?"
"No idea…"
"Is he here about Chiz and the others going missing?"
Kerr Village's villagers clearly didn't know what a prince looked like. Big shots like Luke almost never came here.
So the chatter spread fast.
As voices rose, more doors opened, more people came out.
They kept to the sides, carefully watching Luke's striking face, but no one dared approach him.
In their eyes was that instinctive distance ordinary people kept from the powerful.
Luke gave them a warm smile and a casual wave.
People instantly felt like a spring breeze had swept through them. Goodwill surged toward the prince, and their excited whispers grew louder.
Vayne flicked a glance at Luke and snorted inwardly.
He really knew how to sell that face.
If these villagers knew what he was like in private—a genuine menace—they'd probably feel very different.
A thin, middle-aged man came running from the distance, out of breath. He had brown hair parted down the middle. He stopped in front of Luke, wiping sweat as he bowed respectfully.
"Greetings, Your Highness. I'm the village chief of Kerr Village—Ander."
"Rise," Luke said casually.
"I already received word you were coming. Please, follow me."
Ander wasn't surprised at Luke's arrival. He straightened as he spoke.
When he saw how noisy the crowd was, Ander waved them off sharply. "What are you staring at? Go back home! Don't bother His Highness!"
The villagers scattered instantly, everyone hurrying away.
The soldiers returned to the entrance.
Ander brought Luke to the village office—which was just his house.
"It's a bit small," Ander said awkwardly as he led them inside and dragged out a few wooden chairs with backrests. "I hope you won't mind."
It wasn't a wealthy village. Luke didn't care. He sat down easily. "I heard people outside saying someone went missing?"
His hearing was good. Even in the noise, he'd caught the word missing.
And judging from the way people talked, it wasn't just one.
So, unless something unexpected was going on, this was probably what he'd been sent to investigate.
Ander sighed as he poured tea. "Yes. Three people have gone missing from our village."
"One named Chase. One named Saul. One named Ben."
"The first to disappear was Chase—nearly twenty days ago. He was our village drunk. Sometimes he'd go to Edessa to pick up odd jobs, earn a little money for food and booze, and he wouldn't come back for a day or two."
"That morning, he left early, already reeking of alcohol. A full week passed before we realized he'd been gone too long."
Ander steeped cheap tea leaves in a pot and poured in hot water as steam rose.
He continued, "Chase had a lover in the village. She went to Edessa to look for him, but she couldn't find him at the places he usually worked."
"That's when we knew something was wrong, so we reported it to the city authorities. They searched around Edessa too and found nothing. In the end, they decided maybe Chase got drunk one night, wandered out of the city, and died somewhere in the jaws of a wild beast. The case was closed without answers."
He placed several cups on the table and poured one for Luke first.
"But not long after that, people realized Saul also went missing."
"Saul was a shoemaker. He traveled back and forth between the village and the city, scraping together a hard living. Sometimes he came home late. Sometimes he didn't come home at all."
"Not long after Chase disappeared, Saul's wife, Renee, noticed her husband didn't return one night. She panicked and came straight to me. Because of what happened with Chase, we reported it immediately."
"But Saul was truly gone. He hadn't stayed at any of his usual taverns. No matter how we looked, we couldn't find him."
"Then Ben vanished—ten days ago. Again, someone noticed he was suddenly missing. Again, the authorities sent people. Again, they found nothing."
"After that, the authorities sent the report to the capital, and that's how you were dispatched here. I truly didn't expect the capital would send someone as important as you. Honestly, I'm… overwhelmed."
Ander talked so long his throat went dry. He poured tea for everyone, the last cup for himself.
Then he lifted it and drank in one gulp, not even waiting for it to cool.
Luke wasn't thirsty, and he didn't care about bargain tea. He only asked, "Anything else strange happening in the village?"
Ander thought for a moment. "Strange? Not really. Only those three missing."
"Any villagers having nightmares? Hearing weird screams at night? Lamps going out for no reason? Or… seeing a scarecrow where there shouldn't be one?"
Luke fired off several questions in a row, his eyes turning unusually serious.
Even Vayne and Frey felt the tension in his voice.
They didn't understand why he was asking things like that.
But they sat quietly and didn't interrupt.
Ander considered the questions carefully.
After a while, he shook his head. "No. No one has reported anything like that yet. Are you asking because you have a lead?"
"No," Luke said, exhaling. "Just checking."
He relaxed a little.
Truthfully, his nerves made sense. When he first entered the village, it felt normal. But the moment he heard about unexplained disappearances, he thought of something he really didn't want to deal with.
If even one of his questions had gotten a "yes," he would've turned around and walked right back out.
He had no intention of stepping out of the starter zone and immediately facing an endgame boss.
But from the look of it, that wasn't what this was.
Ander watched Luke's face and asked carefully, "Your Highness… what will you do next? Our village will fully cooperate. People are terrified right now. They don't even dare leave their homes."
If one person went missing, maybe it was chance.
But three people vanishing within twenty days?
That wasn't chance anymore.
Something was causing it.
Luke thought briefly, then stood. "Take me to the missing men's homes first."
The city had already investigated, and they'd found nothing. Luke probably wouldn't find much either.
He wasn't sure why that older woman had sent him.
Maybe she just didn't want him lounging around.
That miserable older woman.
"This way," Ander said, rising quickly and leading the way.
The group left the house and went outside. Ander first took them to the home of the first missing man—Chase.
The drunk's house wasn't big, but it was clean and empty. Someone had clearly cleared it out.
"He didn't leave anything behind?" Luke asked after searching the place and finding nothing personal.
Ander explained, "Chase wasn't well-off. Whatever he earned went into food and drink. He's been gone so many days—he's probably met a bad end. So we cleaned the house up."
Luke withdrew his gaze and walked out. "Next one."
Before long, they arrived at the second missing man's home—Saul's.
The door was closed. Ander knocked. "Renee, are you home? His Highness is here to investigate your husband's disappearance."
Not long after, the door opened.
A middle-aged woman stood there, pale-faced, hair messy, grief written into her features. Her eyes were red like she'd cried recently.
"Please… come in."
She stepped aside and let them enter.
With her husband gone, she'd clearly been hit hard. The house was cluttered and chaotic, like it hadn't been cleaned in a long time.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Renee said anxiously, afraid he might be displeased. "I just… I didn't know who I was cleaning for anymore."
As she spoke, she started hurriedly clearing a chair so Luke would have somewhere to sit.
Ander sighed, unable to say much.
Saul's disappearance had robbed this home of its pillar overnight—and robbed this woman of everything.
"No need," Luke said, signaling her to stop. Then he asked, "Did your husband have anything he always carried with him?"
Renee stopped. The question pulled her into memory. After a long pause, she nodded, went to a wardrobe, opened it, crouched down, and carefully pulled out a pair of leather shoes.
"These were his favorite," she said, holding them like something fragile. "He always said they kept him safe on the road. And then… the one day he didn't wear them…"
Her voice broke. She brought the shoes—polished to a shine—over to Luke. As she spoke, tears spilled down and she started to sob.
Luke took one shoe and stood there with it in hand.
Vayne and Frey didn't understand why he was suddenly holding someone else's shoe.
But they still didn't ask.
Because at that moment, Luke was searching his system inventory for a tool.
The truth was, when he heard "missing," an idea had immediately come to him.
He had once obtained a Godspeed Tracking Decree. If you gave it an item the target always kept on them, it could lock onto the target's current location.
But the item had to be something truly constant—wearing or carrying it for a day or two wasn't enough.
If Saul loved these shoes this much, then they qualified.
Luke offered the shoe to the Godspeed Tracking Decree—
And in the very next instant, something in his mind snapped, like the connection had been severed.
Like making a call and hearing a message on the other end:
"The number you have dialed is out of the service area."
Luke immediately realized Saul might have "switched channels."
In other words… he might already be gone.
He set the shoe down.
Looking at Renee—watching her cling to him with desperate hope—Luke hesitated. He didn't know if he should tell her what he'd just learned.
In the end, he didn't.
He still hadn't confirmed what "missing" really meant.
"I'll investigate his disappearance with everything I have," Luke said quietly. "No matter what the result is, I'll give you an answer."
A glimmer of hope seemed to appear in Renee's eyes. Through tears, she said, "Thank you, Your Highness."
Even without knowing the outcome, she was already thanking him.
In her mind, someone like Luke would keep his word.
Because whether her husband was alive or dead, she needed an answer.
//Check out my P@tre0n for 20 extra chapters on all my fanfics //[email protected]/Razeil0810.