A heavy, suffocating silence rolled across the banquet hall—so sudden, so absolute, it felt as though the entire room inhaled and forgot how to breathe. Conversations halted mid-word. Glasses paused halfway to lips. Even the chandeliers above seemed to dim, their brilliance shrinking beneath the invisible weight pressing down on everyone.
No one understood what the higher-ups were discussing. Their stern expressions revealed nothing, but their rigid posture screamed trouble.
Raizen—appointed as the captain responsible for guiding evacuees during the war—stood before them in stiff attention. At first, he maintained the illusion of calm, convincing even himself that the questioning was routine.
"Raizen," one of the elders said, his voice sharp and exacting, "tell us… do you know them?"
Raizen blinked. "Who, sir?"
He turned.
And froze.
The instant he saw the group the elder indicated, the blood drained from his face. His subordinates behind him stiffened, their confidence collapsing like sand.
"N—No way…" someone whispered.
"Y—Yes, sir…" Raizen finally managed, sweat already trailing down his neck.
"And who are these people?" another elder demanded.
Raizen's mouth moved, but no words formed. The entire hall leaned forward, waiting.
The woman then stepped forward. Her hands trembled, but her voice held steady.
"We are the villagers you abandoned."
The hall gasped.
Whispers exploded like sparks. Shock tore through the elegance of the night, shredding the fragile calm that had barely been restored after the war.
"What…?"
"She's lying, sir!" Raizen cried, desperation twisting his voice. "We don't know her—"
"LIAR!"
The scream cracked through the hall. Shun her son, no more than ten, stood trembling but unbroken.
"I came so many times!" he cried. "I begged for help! You always threw me out! She was dying, and you refused us! You left us alone!"
"Shut up, kid!" a hunter snapped. "Lying is bad. Don't make up stories—"
"Enough!" an elder thundered. "All of you—be silent."
The hall fell into a deathly hush.
"Do you even understand what you've done?" the elder said, his voice shaking with restrained anger. "Those villagers were at the brink of death. If those dark creatures—creatures we battle—had not saved them, they would be dead."
The hunters wavered, their guilt exposed.
"Their protection was your responsibility," the elder continued. "Instead, you abandoned them. You threw them away like they were nothing."
None of the accused hunters spoke. Their shame stained the room like a spreading black mark.
"You've committed a crime," the elder declared coldly. "And we cannot overlook it."
He paused.
Then delivered the sentence.
"You are all dismissed from the Hunters Association."
A wave of shock tore through the hall.
"Wait—! B-but sir—!"
"You can't do this!"
"Please—just one chance—!"
"That is final," the elder said. "Leave. Now."
The dismissed hunters crumbled. Shinrou collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Others stood hollow-eyed, their lives disintegrating before them.
But not everyone bowed.
One person shattered the silence with raw hatred.
Suzume.
She lunged forward, fury twisting her features into something monstrous. She seized the villager woman by the wrist.
"YOU!" she shrieked. "You filthy trash! Because of you, I'm fired! I lost everything because of you!"
"Please—leave my mother alone!" the boy cried, pulling her a side.
"I'll kill you—!"
A flash of metal. A dagger.
She struck.
But before the blade reached flesh—
Althric stepped in front of it.
Steel pierced his hand.
The hall screamed.
Suzume froze as if struck by lightning. Her rage evaporated in an instant, replaced by terror as the reality of what she'd done crashed down on her.
"You… you tried to kill her," Althric said calmly, even with the blade buried in his palm.
He did not flinch. He did not raise his voice. His steady disappointment was colder and more cutting than fury.
Suzume stumbled back. "W-Why? Why would you save her? She's trash! Filthy! And you— you help her?!"
Althric didn't move.
"I see only one piece of trash here—and that is you, Suzume Kurohana.
You failed your duty, and then you tried to murder her.
Those who were dismissed felt shame, guilt, regret… but you let your ego devour you.
You attempted to take a life just to satisfy that rotten pride."
Before she could lash out again, Arden arrived behind her, radiating restrained violence.
"That's enough," he said, grabbing her arms and forcing them behind her.
"How dare you—! Unhand me, bastard!" she screamed.
The guards took her and dragged her out, her shrieks echoing down the corridor until they finally vanished.
Arden exhaled sharply, then rushed to Althric.
"Sir… are you all right?"
Althric raised his gaze slowly. His expression was unreadable, his eyes dark with quiet depth.
"Thank you for asking," he replied. "I'm all right."
He pulled the knife from his hand with effortless ease. A faint shimmer spread over his skin as the wound sealed instantly.
He turned and guided the woman and her son back to their seats with firm care. After ensuring their safety, he resumed his place beside Yume.
Akari ran to him, panic in her voice. "Mr. Althric! Your hand—it was bleeding— we need to take you to the hospital—"
"Oh. I took out the knife and give it to the guards." His tone remained perfectly calm. "It was a tiny scratch. See? Already healed."
"B-But—"
"Miss Akari," he said with a polite bow, "please enjoy the night. I have duties to attend."
He returned to Yume's side.
Yume looked up gently. "Are you in any pain?"
"It healed instantly," he assured her. "No need to worry."
"And Althric… avoid the girls crowding you tonight."
"As you wish."
Gradually, the banquet regained its rhythm. Laughter returned—thin, uneasy, but present. Music resumed, weaving a fragile peace.
Couples stepped onto the stage and danced under the golden glow, their movements graceful and serene.
Many guests approached Althric and Yume to invite them to dance. They declined each time.
Daiki and Kuro approached with grins.
"Wow," Daiki teased. "You two are popular tonight."
"My apologies," Althric said with a bow. "I didn't intend to draw attention."
Kuro shrugged. "With a face like that? You don't get a choice."
Althric stiffened, unsure whether to thank him or apologize.
Then the music softened.
A spotlight shifted.
Arden stepped toward Yume.
His posture was perfect. His expression was noble. But beneath that composure—anyone who knew how to look could see the crack.
He stopped before her.
"Yume Akegami," he said formally, "would you grant me this dance?"
He extended his hand.
The hall held its breath.
Yume's expression remained gentle, composed. "I'm sorry, Arden. I must decline."
A ripple of whispers coursed through the crowd.
Arden's smile twitched—but he forced it to remain.
He tried again.
He stepped closer, bowing slightly. "Yume… we are family. Just one dance. To honor the night."
Yet she remained steady.
"I appreciate the sentiment," she said softly. "But I'm not interested. Please understand."
Her refusal wasn't harsh. It was honest.
And that made it hit harder.
"…Very well," Arden said, voice hollow.
He turned.
But instead of leaving—
He walked straight toward Althric.
Kuro stiffened. Daiki whispered, "Here we go…"
Arden stopped in front of him, jaw clenched.
Althric bowed. "Sir."
Arden's voice dropped to a low, sharp whisper. "You stand beside her like a royal guard protecting a throne."
"I stand where I was ordered to stand," Althric replied.
Arden's eyes narrowed. "Do you enjoy her trust? Do you enjoy that she refuses others while you remain at her side?"
"I don't know what you're implying," Althric replied without hesitation. "This is duty—nothing more."
Nothing more."
Arden grabbed his shoulder—controlled, but threatening.
"Remember this," he hissed. "You serve those I know nothing about. Not her. Not this hall. Not the attention she draws."
Althric lifted his gaze, meeting Arden's eyes head-on.
"I never forget who I serve."
The statement struck like a blade.
Arden released him, pride splintering beneath his composed expression. He straightened his coat sharply.
"Enjoy your night," he muttered, voice cracking.
But before he walked away, he leaned in and whispered into his ear,
"Tell your master this—I'll prove to him that he's nothing more than a mere human, someone who will never be able to stand against me."
He walked away quickly, his fighters following behind him.
Daiki leaned toward Kuro. "He's wounded, but pretending he's steel."
Kuro shook his head. "That wasn't steel. That was glass cracking."
Yume turned to Althric. "Did he trouble you?"
Althric bowed slightly. "No, Miss Yume. I am only fulfilling what I was entrusted to do."
She nodded softly. "Good. Ren believes in you."
The hall shimmered once more under the glimmering lights. Dancers spun across polished marble. Music filled the air with fragile beauty.
But beneath it—
Something had fractured.
Justice had been delivered.
Yet the shadows it awakened were only beginning to stir.