"This is bad," the black-haired woman thought, panic rising in her chest.
She took down Henry in an instant.
Wasn't Henry always bragging about his impenetrable defense techniques?
Now he was crumpled in a bloody pit, motionless.
"I can't activate teleport without Henry… dammit!"
She needed to stall.
Sunflower was already approaching—slowly, calmly, like a predator savoring the hunt.
The woman's mind raced.
"Where's that smug face I saw just a second ago?" Sunflower asked, giving a faint smile as she prepared her next strike.
Suddenly, the woman screamed:
"GO! BURN THE VILLAGE USING THE DEVICE! I'll buy time!"
She flashed Lance a victorious smirk.
If Sunflower wants to stop them, she'll have to deal with him first.
That meant time to escape.
She reached into her coat, grabbing a small glass vial containing a swirling blue liquid. She lifted it to her mouth—
Swish!
In one clean motion, Sunflower's blade sliced through the air.
And then—
Thud.
The woman's head hit the ground.
Silence.
Even the wind stopped.
Sunflower calmly inspected both bodies, humming to herself as she pocketed a pouch of gold coins. She looked genuinely pleased.
Then she turned and strolled back to Lance.
He was already rehearsing his words to clear up the misunderstanding when she spoke first:
"Can you talk now? Must've been a spell from the black-haired one."
Lance nodded, unsure how to process how casual she sounded.
"Good. Village is just ahead," she said, walking past him without a care.
Lance scrambled up, his head still spinning.
"Wait… weren't you about to kill me?" he asked, incredulous.
Sunflower shrugged without turning.
"I was. Until I realized you were cursed and couldn't talk. Then it made more sense."
Lance glanced back at the battlefield—blood, broken bodies, torn grass.
He swallowed hard.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, goosebumps trailing his arms.
The two walked in silence, leaving the plains behind and stepping into a forest where trees towered into the sky. The deeper they went, the larger the trees became, some trunks wider than houses.
Then Sunflower stopped.
"We're here."
Lance looked around. Nothing. Just trees.
"Is the village… underground?" he asked.
Sunflower approached a large tree and waved for Lance to come close. Their faces were now just inches from the bark.
"Close your eyes," she said.
Without hesitation, he obeyed. A moment later, she grabbed his hand and pulled.
"Open them."
Lance blinked—and what he saw was entirely unexpected:
A spiral staircase descending downward, enclosed by smooth, light brown walls, like the inside of a massive hollow tree. The space was tight, cylindrical, but warm.
They began to climb.
At the top: a wooden door with a silver handle.
Sunflower gestured.
"Your turn."
Lance grasped the handle, pushed it open—and was blinded by sunlight.
And then he heard her voice:
"Welcome to Tresia Village."
Lance stepped out and gasped.
A village built high in the trees, with dozens of houses perched on massive branches, connected by sturdy wooden bridges and rope walkways. Children ran laughing from tree to tree. Vendors sold fruit and spices. Women haggled over clothes. Men smoked cigars, drank, and told stories. Laughter echoed from the tavern, where patrons sang and brawled in equal measure.
Life was everywhere.
For a moment, Lance forgot the bloodshed, the danger.
He turned to tell Sunflower how beautiful it all was—
But suddenly, something in his mind snapped.
Buzzing.
Images surged into his brain like a flood:
The dark place.
The wooden door.
The mirror.
The face inside the mirror.
His knees gave out. He collapsed.
A sharp, piercing screech rang inside his skull.
And then…
A voice.
"Burn them alive."
...
Pearl Town, Crownshade Division 6
Knock knock.
"The chief is summoning you commander" said a thin, blonde-haired man, knocking on the office door.
Inside, the commander—dressed in a sharp white suit, hair the same pristine color, and piercing blue eyes—glanced up from his desk.
"The Chief? What did I do this time?" he muttered, exhaling, preparing for bad news.
"It's not about you," the blonde replied.
Relieved, the commander stood and straightened his collar.
"Then let's not waste time. Escort me."
The two left without another word, heading through the elegant halls of the Pearl Town HQ until they reached a heavy door.
Knock knock.
"Come in," came a low voice from inside.
They entered.
The room was dimly lit—light came only from candles flickering in the corners. Masterpiece paintings lined the walls, signed by renowned artists of the age. Four gold-green couches sat on each side of the room. At the front, an imposing desk stood behind a man seated in a high-backed chair, casually enjoying a cigar.
The man had hair as black as ink, gray eyes, and a few lines of age on his strong face. He wore a black and crimson suit, adorned with gold buttons that gleamed in the candlelight.
"You called, Chief?" the commander spoke first.
The chief exhaled smoke, then said calmly,
"We've lost contact with Henry and Rose."
The commander's eyes narrowed.
"You sent them on a mission?"
"Yes. West of here—there's a village hidden in the Giant Green Forest. A client hired us to investigate. They were tasked with reconnaissance."
The commander paused, troubled.
"Chief, the western forest isn't my domain. Did the client mention any possible threats in the area?"
"Not in the report," the chief replied coolly.
"Then how...? Could this be an attack? Are we being targeted?"
"My relationships with clients have been... consistent," the chief replied, setting down his cigar. "Still, I won't rule it out."
The commander took a breath.
"Or perhaps the village itself is hostile—more capable than it appears. If Henry and Rose were eliminated so easily, it suggests high-level threats."
The chief nodded.
"Henry and Rose aren't just anyone—they're elite. Which is why we're going to tread carefully. I've summoned you, Commander, to begin gathering intelligence. Study the western region. Learn the forest. Document its creatures, terrain, and all resource deposits—especially any material that could be used to forge weapons."
"Understood, sir!" the commander said, standing to attention. He turned to leave when—
"Shouldn't we also consider the possibility... of betrayal?"
The words came hesitantly from Albert, the blonde subordinate.
The chief paused mid-puff.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Albert, sir."
"New, huh?"
"Yes, sir."
The chief stood, walking slowly around his desk.
"In this line of work, Albert—we lie, we steal, we kill. We do things darker than you can imagine." He stopped just a few feet away, eyes locked on Albert. "So tell me, why do you think I still put up with this life?"
Albert looked nervously at the commander, who nodded for him to answer.
"Money...?" Albert said, his voice trembling.
The chief laughed—low and gravelly.
"Money. That's what most people think." He stepped closer. "But the real reason is loyalty. Mine to my men. Theirs to me. This business only works when loyalty is unbreakable."
He tapped his chest.
"So, Albert, never accuse one of my people—alive or dead—unless you've seen the betrayal with your own eyes. And believe me—you won't. Not here. Not now. Not ever."
Albert bowed his head.
"My sincere apologies, Chief."
The commander gave Albert a light nudge toward the exit, as the Chief turned back to his cigar.
"Go. Bring me answers, Commander."