The Duskwind Inn sat near the heart of the town, a sturdy, three-story building of darkwood beams and red clay shingles. The scent of roasted meat and incense curled through the air as flickering lanterns cast a warm glow over its well-swept floors. Patrons gathered at round tables, their cups clinking, conversations rising and falling like waves.
Behind the polished counter stood a middle-aged woman with tied-back auburn hair and a sharp eye—Madam Yi, the inn's ever-watchful receptionist. She tapped the corner of a logbook absentmindedly while her ears strained toward the murmurs spreading like wildfire across the room.
"...Did you see it?" one cloaked traveler whispered, leaning toward her tablemates.
"The boy?" asked another, voice low. "Looked like a beggar. Limp in his arms. Thought he was dead at first."
"No, no—he was breathing. Barely," said a third, a merchant with a well-worn cloak. "But that wasn't what caught my eye. It was the young master carrying him. His robe was clean, refined—and the single white cape over his shoulder... unmistakable."
"Second Moon Sect?"
"Not quite. He didn't carry their colors. But the way he walked..." The speaker shivered. "Calm. Like he'd just crushed someone underfoot."
Madam Yi raised a brow but said nothing. She had seen them enter—the boy unconscious, cradled gently, despite his filthy, bloodied rags. The young master had paid in full, up front, and requested privacy and hot water.
"Think he's one of the nobles from the inner provinces?" someone else speculated.
"Maybe... but nobles don't carry street rats like that unless they've gone mad or—"
"...unless someone was killed because of him," a voice cut in quietly. It belonged to an older mercenary hunched by the hearth. He took a slow sip of his drink before continuing. "There was a corpse found in an alley not far from here. Split clean. Like a blade through butter."
The tavern quieted for a heartbeat.
"And now," the old man murmured, "a boy who was supposed to vanish... is sleeping upstairs under the protection of a young man who doesn't act like he belongs—"
"—but walks like he owns the place," Madam Yi finished for him, her voice firm. "Enough gossip."
She glanced toward the stairs leading to the rooms.( That boy… he looked like he hadn't slept in years. And the young master... something ancient burned behind those eyes. )
The murmurs died down—for now.
Then a group entered the inn—three men, lean and rough like seasoned brigands. Branded on their necks was the seared symbol of a punctured heart.
The murmur of guests died instantly. Silence swept the room like a sudden wind.
They were The Punctured.
Behind the counter, Madam Yi's expression darkened. She didn't like their presence, nor the aura they brought, but she allowed them in. The Duskwind Inn was neutral ground—at least on paper.
The one in the center approached with heavy steps. He wore a sleeveless tunic that showed off his muscled arms, a neatly trimmed goatee beneath a bald crown. His grin was one of smug assurance.
"I've heard," he said, "that you have a special guest staying here."
Madam Yi met his gaze without flinching. "All of our guests are special. You could be, too—if you can afford the price."
He chuckled. "Oh, I can afford plenty. But I'm here to increase my spirit stones, not spend them."
"Oh? Then you must be selling something."
"Hahaha," the man laughed dryly, "No, no... I'm here about a certain young master. A foreign one. There's a contract, you see. And you know how The Punctured always honor their bounties."
"I'm afraid you'll have to wait another day," said Madam Yi, her tone smooth as silk, but firm.
"Why not today?" blurted the scrawny one to his left.
"Shhh." The leader silenced him with a glance, then turned back to Madam Yi. "It's called procedure. And we respect the Duskwind Inn… after all, we wouldn't want to spark any misunderstandings with the Five Ladies Sect."
"Hmm... I usually don't have men as my guests...."
Then came the sound of footsteps—measured, deliberate—descending from the upper floor.
Every eye in the room shifted. Some turned their heads. Others only flicked their pupils toward the stairs. But all shared the same thought:
Mad lad.
The young master they had just been whispering about… was revealing himself.
The three Punctured mercenaries went from startled to grinning in a blink. But they didn't move—yet.
Kazel descended with the calm of a man attending an evening banquet, not one walking into death. His white cape draped over one shoulder, robes crisp, posture flawless. Every step carried a weight, a rhythm, a silent command. He wasn't just walking. He was owning the floor.
That was the difference.
The leader of the mercenaries bowed with a smirk. "You spare us the trouble of searching, young master. For that, I thank you."
"And I, you," Kazel replied without missing a beat.
A ripple of stunned silence passed through the guests.
"If you want to fight, take it outside," Madam Yi cut in, her voice sharp. But her eyes tracked Kazel from the corner of her gaze, sizing him up.( This kid… Is he insane? Or just plain stupid? Sect Slayer or not, walking into the lion's den like this—tch. Ego. Always the ego. )
"Fight?" Kazel let out a soft chuckle. "Why do you think so poorly of me? I merely wish to enjoy a cup of drink. With them." He gestured casually toward an empty table.
The leader raised a brow. "Oh? Trying to delay the inevitable?"
"My life is still long," Kazel said smoothly, brushing past the mercenary.
He left himself open—entirely open—as he walked by them. A thousand weaknesses exposed, yet not one of them dared to strike.
Not yet.
Not until he sat down.
Something was off. Something none of them could put into words.
"Come," Kazel said, crossing one leg over the other as he settled in with the elegance of nobility.
The leader sat down first, casually. His two underlings exchanged looks before following suit, slower, tenser.
"You seem like a difficult bounty to hunt," said the leader, voice low.
"One of you paid a visit to Jade Basin," Kazel replied with a yawn. "So I killed him."
The air in the inn tightened. Several guests nearly choked on their drinks. Chairs creaked. The atmosphere flipped on its head.
Madam Yi didn't react—not visibly. But her eyes narrowed. ( So that was him. )
"I see," said the leader. "You're not just a pampered young master with an inflated ego. You're meticulous. Dangerous. But tell me—can you still sleep well at night… after today?"
"Like a baby suckling your mother's tit."
Laughter, crude and unexpected, burst from Kazel. The guests, however, were struck dumb—goosebumps crawling up their spines.
"You little—" one of the underlings jumped up, rage flaring in his eyes. But the leader raised a single hand, and the man froze mid-motion.
"I see the game you're playing," the leader said, smiling thinly. "Political baiting. Smart. Shame we're not the type to take that kind of offer."
"Can't say I almost had you, then," Kazel shrugged.
"Well, young master," the leader leaned back, stretching a bit, "how long can you keep this up? Your well of spirit stones will run dry sooner or later. And when this place is no longer your little fortress…"
He dragged a thumb slowly across his neck, miming a clean slice. "Then it's over."
Kazel only smiled.
"Is there a price I can pay," he asked, voice calm, "to make you hunt the one who wants me dead?"
Now it was the leader's turn to laugh—he slapped his thigh, delighted. "Now you're speaking my language. Double the price, and we'll hunt down the contractor instead."
Kazel raised a brow. "That simple, huh?"
"We're professional mercenaries," the leader said, tapping the Punctured mark on his neck. "Our methods are dirty—but our word is gold. Credibility is what we sell."
"But here's the thing." Kazel leaned in just slightly. "Right now… I'm not nearly as rich as the Second Moon Sect."
The leader's smile twitched—but didn't break. "We have no idea why you'd mention the Second Moon Sect."
"Of course not," Kazel said. "Otherwise, you'd be risking your credibility. But the amateur you sent to Jade Basin… he got what was coming."
"Perhaps so," the leader said with an eerie calm.
But around them, whispers had already begun to stir.
The Second Moon Sect—could they really be the ones behind the bounty?
The guests murmured, some with wide eyes, others with hesitant glances. A single, calculated name-drop, and Kazel had planted doubt in the entire room.
And the Punctured mercenaries knew it.
Madam Yi was astonished. Her face, always painted with the poise of a seasoned innkeeper, now wore the faintest crease of disbelief.( This boy… this isn't the kind of young master you find in the Land of the Lamb. He's dancing with death—and death looks like it's struggling to keep up. )
"Ah," Kazel said, holding up his glass and giving it a slight tilt. "Empty."
He stood up with the same calm elegance that had unnerved everyone the moment he descended the stairs. His presence was like a blade sheathed in silk.
"I'll be outside," he said, brushing down his robe. "Let the sun give me a kiss… at nine in the morning."
His blue eyes swept over the mercenaries. "If you want my bounty, then gather up."
With that, he turned and walked upstairs—no hesitation, no fear.
The two underlings looked ready to lunge after him, rage boiling just under their skin.
"Let it go," the leader said through clenched teeth, voice sharp. "We leave."
He gave Madam Yi a nod—more out of forced civility than respect—then turned, cloak swaying behind him as he strode out of the Duskwind Inn. His subordinates followed, but not without casting bitter, lingering stares at the staircase Kazel had vanished behind.
The tension remained in the air, like smoke after a fire.
Madam Yi exhaled quietly and poured herself a drink.
( What kind of storm have I let into my inn? )