Chapter 68: Late Arrival
Two Hours Later...
—Knight Orders Office—
As Seraphina walked through the entrance, calm and composed as always, her presence didn't need to be announced, it simply shifted the mood of the room like a silent command. Every knight in her line of movement instinctively stood up and saluted her with sharp precision, eyes following her cool figure with both respect and a quiet fear that she never intended to create but always carried with her like a second cloak.
But before she had taken more than a few steps, a flurry of motion broke from the side as Lyra, clearly flustered and wearing worry like armor two sizes too big, hurried toward her in a half-run, nearly tripping over her own stride as she reached her.
"Ma'am… where were you?" Lyra said in a single rushed breath, stopping right in front of her with wide eyes and a trembling voice, as if she had spent the entire morning imagining worst-case scenarios. "We thought maybe you'd gone to the Capital or something... and Lieutenant Arwyn already left to find you... You could've just told us where you're living... at least left a note or something..."
Seraphina turned her head slightly to glance at her, and with that cold elegance only she could pull off so naturally, she began walking forward without a hint of urgency. "Calm down, Lyra... it's nothing worth fussing over. Honestly, I just happened to fall asleep late last night and couldn't wake up early. That's all it was."
Lyra, who had quickly caught up to her side, still looked at her with a mix of concern and disbelief, clearly not buying the simplicity of her explanation. "Ma'am, are you sure you're alright...? If you're sick or... or just tired... maybe you should rest for the day. You always tell the rest of us to take breaks, and you give us time off when we're even a little off, but you never do the same for yourself. If it's overwork, you don't have to worry... I'll handle everything. I mean, I'm sure Lieutenant Arwyn would say the same too... right?"
Seraphina came to a pause mid-step and turned slightly, her gaze steady and expression unreadable, the sort of gaze that could silence a room without meaning to. "There's no need to be so dramatic, Lyra... I'm perfectly fine. And I'm getting enough rest... just not immediately last night, that's all. So please, stop worrying about things that don't concern you."
Lyra blinked, clearly unsure whether to feel relieved or scolded. Her voice came out a little smaller than before. "If you say so... but... if you're not feeling well again later, I'm going to tell Lieutenant—"
The moment Seraphina's eyes narrowed, Lyra visibly flinched and took half a step back, her voice dying out in her throat. Seraphina's tone didn't rise, but the sudden change in her gaze was enough to darken the air between them. "What exactly are you going to tell her...? You planning to go to prison over this, Lyra...? Don't bother bringing that lunatic into this. Keep your thoughts to yourself and don't invite trouble where there is none."
Lyra stared at her, her lips parted in helpless panic. "L-Lunatic...? You mean... Lieutenant Arwyn...?"
Before Seraphina could reply, a voice chimed in smoothly from behind them, casual but unmistakably pointed. "Is that me you two are talking about...?"
Both women turned their heads. Arwyn was already standing just a few steps away, one eyebrow raised, her arms crossed casually over her chest. Her smile was relaxed, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she had heard enough. The room hushed again, sensing the tension.
Seraphina looked at her, expression still as calm and cool as before, and gave the faintest nod. "Good morning, Lieutenant."
Arwyn gave her a proper salute, though her tone remained teasing. "Good morning, Captain."
She tilted her head slightly as she spoke again, her voice slipping into something that tried to sound hurt but failed to hide the amusement underneath. "I couldn't help but notice I've just been called a psycho. May I ask what I did to earn that flattering title so early in the day?"
Lyra, whose soul had visibly left her body by this point, jumped in with panicked haste. "It's nothing! I was just saying something dumb, Lieutenant! It's not what it sounded like, really, please forget it!"
Arwyn let out a soft chuckle, eyes still on Seraphina. "Well... I suppose if it's coming from our Captain, I'll let it slide. I'm just a little shocked, is all. Didn't know I left such a strong impression."
Seraphina didn't answer. Her eyes met Arwyn's but gave away nothing. Arwyn stepped forward casually, and although her movements were light, it was clear from the way she glanced around that she was soaking in the attention, or at least pretending to be unfazed by it.
"Well, Captain," she continued, "since you came in late, I can only assume you're tired... why not take the day off? Spend some time with me... perhaps... on a date?"
The room seemed to freeze at that one word. The other knights didn't speak, but several heads subtly turned in their direction.
Seraphina's gaze sharpened like frost forming across glass, her tone colder than before. "A date, you say... I don't waste my time on things like that."
Arwyn didn't flinch, though there was a small twitch at the corner of her mouth that betrayed her amusement, "I see... then at least let me know if you'd like to join me for the next patrol. Southern district, next week in the morning. A calm mission, just the two of us... ma'am."
Seraphina didn't look away. Her voice remained steady. "Sure... why not."
With that, the moment passed. The atmosphere slowly settled back into motion, though the tension hadn't quite left. Together, they walked toward Seraphina's office, neither of them speaking now.
---
Meanwhile...
—Adventurers Guild—
The heavy wooden doors of the guild creaked faintly as Kael stepped inside. He made his way toward his usual seat, expression unreadable, hands buried in his pant pockets. Then, amidst the noisy haze, a voice broke through, soft but clear, tinged with that same dry tone he'd come to recognize.
"Kael... over here."
He slowed slightly, turning toward the voice. Auburn hair flicked into view, catching a sliver of light like burnished bronze. It was Celeste. She was seated at a side table near the guild's main board, one leg crossed over the other, her posture casually upright, though her eyes didn't quite match that air of ease.
"What does she want this time?" Kael thought, a sigh nearly escaping his lips before he held it back. He walked over, hands still in his coat, gaze calm but probing. When he reached the table, he didn't sit right away.
"Sit down," Celeste said simply, without looking up at first.
With a subtle shrug, Kael slid into the seat across from her, the old chair creaking beneath him. His gray eyes searched her face, that usual confident smirk of hers was absent.
"So?" he asked, voice low, smooth.
Celeste didn't answer immediately. She looked at him, really looked at him this time, her hazel eyes softening for a fleeting second. Then came the question, quiet, maybe even hesitant.
"How's your head today? You... doing alright?"
Kael blinked, his brows twitching up slightly. Of all things, he didn't expect concern. Then it clicked, the medicine. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Oh, right… That old cleric was your mother. I almost forgot." He let out a small, sheepish breath. "Yeah, I drank the medicine she gave me. It's actually working... surprisingly well. At least, I think so. I haven't had a headache since."
Celeste's expression faltered, her lips parting. "W-wait, how did you know she's my mother? Did she tell you that?"
"That old woman? No," Kael said with a half-smile, leaning back slightly. "It was me. You two look alike. It wasn't hard to figure out. You've got the same eyes... same stubborn forehead."
She scoffed, looking away briefly. "Tch. Figures."
"But why didn't you say anything?" he added, watching her carefully.
"Just didn't feel like it," she muttered. But the tone was off. It didn't carry her usual bite. In fact, if anything, it felt more like... embarrassment?
Kael tilted his head slightly. "That's unlike you. You're usually the first to shove a truth in someone's face whether they want it or not."
Celeste didn't reply to that. She looked down at her gloved hands resting on the table, then tapped her fingers against the wood.
Then, as if she'd remembered something important, she straightened up a bit. "Oh... yeah, right. Almost forgot. Lieutenant Arwyn came by this morning. She was looking for you. Wanted your information."
Kael raised a brow. "Really now?" His voice dropped a note lower, amused. "Did she say why?"
Celeste shrugged, a bit too quickly. "Nope. But she didn't seem... happy. Are you in trouble, Kael? Did you steal something? Kill someone? Another tavern brawl?"
"No crimes. Not this week, anyway." Kael said coolly, but inwardly he was more alert. "So she came to the guild... she's not letting this go."
Celeste leaned forward slightly, lips parting again as if to say something else, and that's when it happened.
The motion pushed her chest forward, the generous curves beneath her white uniform rising with the shift. The fabric stretched just slightly, a subtle bounce catching Kael's eye, though it was the first time he truly seemed to notice them. It wasn't entirely intentional… but damn, it worked.
"Holy hell… they really are that big. How does she even walk with those exclusive breasts?" he thought, blinking before forcing his gaze back up to meet her eyes.
She didn't seem to notice his wandering gaze, or maybe she did and just chose to ignore it.
"I mean... she's a Lieutenant, right? Why would someone like her come looking for a guy like you?" Celeste asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and mockery. "You're not exactly special, Kael."
Kael smirked. "Gee. Thanks."
She raised an eyebrow. "No offense. I just mean... she's kind of known for being, you know, picky. Or strange. I heard things. People say she doesn't... really go for men."
"I don't fear her," he said with a shrug, exhaling slowly. "Besides... if she really wanted to chain me up and use me for whatever twisted thing she's into... I'd probably already be in her dungeon."
He paused. "Not that it doesn't already feel like I'm tangled in her mess, thanks to my wife..."
Celeste didn't laugh at his quip. Instead, she looked at him a little longer, more serious than usual.
"I'm just saying, Kael. Be careful. I've heard too many stories. And you... you always act like nothing can touch you, but that woman? She's not just some rumor."
He stood up then, sliding the chair back without a sound.
"Thanks," he said simply, his expression unreadable again. "But I can take care of myself."
Celeste stood up too, slowly. "So... you're not taking a quest today?"
He glanced at the quest board, then shook his head. "I'll take one when I feel like it. Right now... I've got other things to deal with."
She looked like she wanted to say something else but held it back. Her hands tightened for a moment, then she turned and began walking toward her desk. There was something flickering in her eyes, something unspoken.
Halfway there, a sheet of parchment slipped from her hand. It fluttered silently to the floor. A quest form, already signed, but not yet posted.
Kael glanced back just in time to see it fall. But he didn't notice the parchment itself, only the back of it. He didn't say anything. Just watched as Celeste froze, then quickly crouched down to pick it up, cheeks slightly flushed as she tucked it away.
"Is something wrong, Celeste?" Kael asked.
"N-no… no… I-it's nothing. It just fell from my hand, that's all."
"Oh, I see," he said, turning away again. He didn't understand. He had no reason to suspect anything. But still, something felt… off. He noticed that much.
Celeste stood there, watching as he walked out of the guild. Her gaze softened. "…Why am I even worrying about him? He looks just fine."
---
One Week Later...
—Knight Order's Prison—
Within the cold stone walls of the Knight Order's prison, the air was as still as ever, dry, silent, and tense. Auren, clad in gleaming silver armor with the Knight Order's crest carved into his chest plate, stood before the long wooden desk at the center of the chamber. His expression was calm on the surface, but beneath it lay quiet concern.
"Hey, Trisy," he said, his voice low but steady. "Has Rowen not reported in again today? That makes it a week now. He's missed every shift... I'm starting to worry."
Behind the desk, Trisy, a fellow knight with short black hair, glanced up from the pile of duty reports she was scribbling over. Her brows furrowed.
"No, not today either," she replied, exhaling. "You didn't hear? Word is, a few days back, he was attacked. Almost killed by a strange man. Captain intervened, saved his life, they say."
Auren nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. "Yes... I heard a few details. But that's exactly why I'm worried. After something like that, he should've been monitored, or at least checked in. But I've had shifts at odd hours recently. I haven't been able to speak to him."
Trisy leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk, her voice more serious now. "If he doesn't report back within two more days, they'll likely dismiss him. He's on thin ice already. If you're truly concerned... you should go check on him."
"I will," Auren said with a nod. "But can I ask you to watch over my work while I'm gone?"
"Of course," Trisy replied without hesitation. "And if you find anything out of place, anything at all, report directly to the Knight Order Office. Don't take unnecessary risks."
"Understood."
Without another word, Auren turned and exited the chamber, his boots echoing off the stone floor. As the heavy door closed behind him, his thoughts grew heavier.
"Rowen... where are you?"
---
The sun hung low in the sky by the time Auren reached the residential sector. He now stood before Rowen's house, a modest two-story home with a slanted rooftop and ivy curling along the side. It looked unchanged. Quiet. Almost too quiet.
As he stepped forward to the door, he reached out, but paused mid-motion. The door was locked. A large iron lock sealed the front door shut.
He drew his hand back and frowned. "Locked?" he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Does that mean he left town? But he didn't say anything. He didn't send a letter... not even a word."
He stepped back slightly, his eyes scanning the doorframe, and just then, something caught his attention.
A strange smell. Faint, but sharp. It lingered in the air, like something metallic and rotting. His senses, honed through years of service, recognized it immediately.
Blood.
Auren's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword. The blade slid free from its sheath with a soft metallic whisper, catching a glint of the sun. He held it firm, drawing in a breath, steadying himself. Then with one swift, calculated motion, he brought the blade down on the lock.
Clang!
The lock split cleanly in two and dropped to the ground with a dull thud. He sheathed his blade and slowly pushed open the door, keeping low and alert as he stepped inside. The hinges creaked softly.
The room inside was bright, sunlight filtered gently through the windows, casting angled shadows across the floor. The furniture was untouched. Neatly arranged. Nothing broken or overturned. It was... too clean.
"Strange. Everything looks normal... so why that smell?"
His gaze turned slowly toward the wooden stairs at the far end of the room.
"Maybe... upstairs?"
Without wasting time, he advanced, careful to keep his steps silent despite the weight of his armor. The floor creaked faintly beneath him. He ascended the stairs one at a time, his hand resting near his sword's hilt.
On the upper floor, the hallway was dimmer. Dust hung in the air, disturbed only by his presence. There were several doors here, lined one after another.
He opened the first door.
Empty.
A neatly made bed, an unlit lamp, a closed wardrobe.
He moved to the second.
Also empty. Though this time, the bed seemed unmade, but nothing else was out of place.
He pressed on.
A third door. The same result. Quiet. Still.
Then, he reached the final door, the one at the end of the hall. Unlike the others, this door was shut firmly. No light spilled from the cracks beneath it. He placed his hand on the handle. His grip tightened. Something in his gut turned cold.
"This is the last room," he murmured to himself, and with a sudden force, he shoved the door open.
The sight before him made his heart skip.
The floor was littered with broken glass. Shards scattered across the wooden boards, reflecting the dim light like frozen splinters. The window to the far end of the room had been completely shattered, its frame cracked and splintered.
"What the..." he whispered, stepping inside.
The clinking of glass beneath his armored boots echoed with every step. He looked around carefully, half-expecting someone to leap out at any second. But the room was empty. No movement. No signs of life.
Yet the smell was stronger now. He crouched down, scanning the floor, and that's when he saw it.
A smear of dark crimson, half-dried, clinging to the floorboards. It wasn't fresh... perhaps a few days old. He reached down, touching it lightly with his glove.
"Blood... it's definatly blood," he said, his voice nearly hollow. "There was a fight here. Maybe... a week ago."
He rose to his feet, eyes darting toward the far corner, something else lay there. He passed the bed with its messy sheets and saw, at the far end wall, a sword. Its grip was familiar.
He picked it up slowly.
"Rowen's sword," he murmured. "So he fought someone here. Was he injured? But then what? If he escaped while wounded, why was the door locked from the outside? And if he didn't escape..."
He didn't finish the thought. His gaze swept the room one last time. No body. No clear sign of where Rowen might have gone.
Only blood. And silence.
Auren stood in the center of the broken room, sword in hand, heart heavy.
"I have to inform the Captain," he muttered. "She warned him... told him to be careful. But he didn't listen. And now..."
He paused.
"He's missing... but I still hope he's alive."
---
(Chapter Ended)
To be continued...