Huff…huff..
Lady Lylia's chest heaved as she stumbled to a halt in front of an abandoned shop. Her golden armor caught the sunlight, but the building looked like it had been forgotten by time—shattered windows, rotting wood, rusted metal barely holding together.
The door hung crooked on its hinges, more suggestion than barrier.
*Is this really the right place?* Lylia pulled out her mirrornet, checking the coordinates. A red dot bounced exactly where she stood.
"Definitely it," she muttered, scanning the decrepit structure. "But why here of all places?"
She took a steadying breath. *Elsa could be dying right now. I can't waste another second.*
CREAK!
The door groaned open, spilling light into the musty interior. Her armored boots CLANKED against the debris-strewn floor as she stepped inside.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
Silence.
*There's nobody—*
CRACK!
A sudden sound from above made her freeze. The air itself seemed to shift, pressing against her skin with an unmistakable presence.
*I'm not alone.*
WHOOSH!
Four cloaked figures dropped through a gaping hole in the ceiling, their black robes billowing like storm clouds.
SHING!
Lylia's sword cleared its sheath in a blur of steel, the blade whistling through the air toward the nearest figure's throat.
"Whoa, slow down there, Vice Captain!"
A masculine voice cut through the tension. The sword stopped mere inches from his neck as wind from the near-miss whooshed outward, blowing back his hood to reveal tousled white hair.
"Sorry we're late," he continued casually, as if a sword wasn't practically kissing his jugular. "Even though we already sent you the meeting coordinates."
"Oh." Lylia smoothly withdrew her blade, sheathing it with practiced ease. "It's you."
"Yeah, and thanks for the warm welcome. A few milliseconds faster and my head would've been rolling before I got a word out." He stepped back into the shadows, his face disappearing from the light.
"Not my fault," Lylia shot back, irritation creeping into her voice. "Who jumps out of nowhere into an abandoned building with an armed knight inside?"
"Uh... us?"
"The youth of this era," she sighed heavily.
"Did you come here to lecture us like some cranky grandma, or do you actually have an S-rank mission for us?"
Lylia's red eyes flashed. "Right. Let's skip the small talk." Her voice took on the commanding tone of a seasoned officer. "There's a Soulwretch loose in the kingdom. Your job: eliminate it and minimize casualties."
"Why call us? Can't you just send the kingdom's registered S-rank adventurers? You've got about thirty of them."
Lylia's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding audibly. "Apparently they're all on quests, escort missions, or... sightseeing." The last word came out as a low growl. "How convenient when they're needed most."
"Calm down, Vice Captain. Since they're all conveniently absent and we're here to kill this Soulwretch, what's in it for us?"
"A substantial reward for you and your team."
"We're not in it for the money."
Lylia blinked. "Then why are you here?"
"Because we need assurance that when we go out there and smash this thing, any collateral damage won't be held against us."
"That's it?"
"That's it. We want to protect this kingdom just like you do. We don't need payment."
"Understood. You have my word—no destruction will be blamed on you. But even if you're being noble about the money, risking your lives for others deserves recognition." Her voice softened slightly. "If I don't reward such sacrifice, my dignity won't let me sleep."
"Suit yourself, Captain. Though you're praising us like we've already won."
"I believe you will."
"Don't get your hopes too high. This is our first Soulwretch, so don't expect miracles."
"Understood." Lylia's expression hardened. "Location: Market District, Silver Quarter—approximately two hundred meters from the Silver Line Guild."
"Alright, we're off. Time to stop this monster." All four figures moved toward the hole in the ceiling.
"Wait!"
They froze.
"One more thing. Two people are currently in contact with the Soulwretch—one male, the other female."
The boy's voice turned cold. "Then they're as good as dead."
"Don't say that!" Lylia's voice cracked. "My friend is among them."
"Sorry for your loss."
"You don't understand—the female is severely wounded. She has a gaping wound at her waist. She won't last much longer, and her name is—"
"Elsa."
The name hung in the air like a blade waiting to fall. The boy's entire posture shifted, coiled tension replacing casual confidence.
"Yes, Elsa. She's dying, and if she doesn't get help soon—"
WHOOSH!
The boy launched himself through the hole like a human cannonball, leaving only disturbed air in his wake.
"What's wrong with him?" Lylia stared at the empty space where he'd been.
A younger female voice emerged from the remaining three. "I don't know. He's never reacted like this before."
Lylia's eyes widened. "You're a girl."
"Yes, I am." The voice carried quiet confidence. "We'll be going now. That airhead always gets in trouble when there's no one to keep him in line." She bowed respectfully.
"Please," Lylia's voice held a note of desperation. "Save my people. Save my friend."
"Count on us, my lady."
The three figures vanished through the hole, leaving Lylia alone in the dusty light.
She looked up at the gaping ceiling. "May the blessings of Goddess Astral be with you all."
---
THUD…WHOOSH…THUD!!
Percival's boots slammed against rooftop after rooftop, his black cloak whipping behind him. White hair caught the wind as red eyes burned with desperate intensity.
*No... Elsa. Is it MY Elsa? The one who's been gone for three years?*
His heart hammered against his ribs. *It can't be her. If she'd returned, she would have told me. She would have...*
"Percival, wait up!"
Sofia's voice carried from below as the other three pursued him along the street, but he barely heard her over the roar of blood in his ears.
*I don't think it's her, but I keep running. My heart won't stop racing, and I keep praying she isn't the girl Lylia mentioned.*
He leaped to another rooftop, then another. Each landing sent vibrations through his bones.
"Percival!"
He skidded to a halt and dropped to street level. The others caught up, breathing hard.
"Geez man, why did you bolt out on us like that? You almost gave me a heart attack!" Another masculine voice—Fred—bent over, gasping.
"Sorry. Something about what Lylia said made me lose control." Percival offered a sheepish smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah, scatter-brain as usual," Sofia said, pulling back her hood. Blue hair spilled out, framing delicate features and pointed rabbit ears. Her green eyes fixed on him with concern. "Now tell us—do you know this Elsa girl?"
Percival's expression shifted from playful to deadly serious. "Yes. I think so."
"You THINK? After you bolted out of there like your pants were on fire, you're not even sure?" Sofia's voice pitched higher with exasperation, her ears flattening slightly.
"You don't need to yell." Percival's hands clenched into fists. "But if I follow my gut, and this feeling in my chest... that Elsa is MY Elsa. A childhood friend who left the kingdom after a life-threatening incident. I was devastated when they told me she was gone."
Sofia's expression softened. "I see."
"She's been gone for three years. Now Lady Lylia casually mentions she might be the one in danger." His voice cracked slightly. "I ran hoping to find out it wasn't her, but something deep down says it is."
"Are you sure it's your friend?"
"Yes. Even though I hope it's not."
"Make up your mind, damn it!"
"Fine, fine. I'm sure."
Sofia studied his face for a long moment. "Okay, then it's settled. We're going to investigate and save this Elsa girl. But you have to promise me something."
"What?"
"You won't go lone wolf on us."
"Yes, Sofia."
"You won't be a scatter-brain and charge in blindly without a plan."
"Yes, Sofia."
"And most importantly—" Her voice turned fierce. "You'll let us help you."
Percival's eyes widened in surprise, then gratitude. "Yes."
"Good. Because we're a team, even if we're not legally registered as an adventuring guild. We've got your back."
The other two nodded firmly.
"Thanks, guys. I'm glad I have you."
"Yeah, be grateful, idiot. Without us, you'd be a walking catastrophe."
"Whatever you say." But Percival was smiling now, real warmth in his expression.
"Alright, let's move. We've wasted enough time." Sofia pulled her hood back up, though her ears still poked through.
"Right. Let's go."
They launched themselves into motion, leaping from rooftop to rooftop with practiced precision. The city blurred beneath them as they carved a path through the afternoon sky.
Percival's red eyes blazed with determination. *Elsa, if it really is you, don't worry. I'm coming to save you.*
His jaw set like stone. *And if it turns out that Soulwretch is the reason you're hurt...*
The wind whipped his words away, but his thoughts burned with lethal promise.
*I'll kill it with no shred of mercy. That's a promise.*
Behind him, Sofia caught the change in his aura—the way shadows seemed to dance around him, the way the very air grew hotter in his wake.
*So that's the real Percival,* she thought. *The one he keeps buried most of the time.*
She'd only seen it once before, and it had been terrifying.
Now, as they raced toward an unknown foe, she found herself almost pitying the Soulwretch.
Percival's voice cut through the wind, low and deadly: "So, Soulwretch... I hope you've made peace with whatever gods you pray to."
His red eyes seemed to glow.
"Because death isn't just knocking at your door anymore."
The shadows around him writhed like living things, and for a moment, Sofia could swear she saw something else looking out through his eyes—something terrifying and hungry.
"I'm already inside."
—TO BE CONTINUED—