The skinny man frowned, confused.
"Never, Boss…" he answered hesitantly.
THUD!
A massive hand slammed against the wagon wall, making everyone inside jolt in shock. The burly man glared at him, eyes bulging, his face a storm of rage tangled with fear.
"Idiot! Do you want us all to die, huh?!"
The skinny man's body instantly trembled. He lowered his head, breath ragged.
"I-I… I don't understand what you mean, Boss…"
"Fool!" the big man barked. "If we report that woman, the royal soldiers will immediately start investigating us. They'll drag us into prison before we even touch the gold. And if we try to make someone else report it in secret, it won't matter. They'll trace the source of the information. And if they find us…"
He leaned forward, his face terrifying.
"…we're finished. You want us all slaughtered just for a thousand gold coins?!"
The skinny man choked on his breath, nodding frantically, his face pale.
"I-I was stupid, Boss… forgive me. I didn't think it through…"
The burly man exhaled heavily, his voice still harsh but more controlled.
"Men like us should never meddle in politics. Those damned nobles don't even see us as human. If we get tangled with them, sooner or later, we'll be wiped out."
The skinny man could only mutter faintly, "Y-Yes… Boss is right."
The wagon fell silent again. A suffocating silence, broken only by the creak of wheels and the pounding of hooves.
But that silence did not last long.
Suddenly—
CRASH!
The wagon lurched violently, as if struck from the outside. The horses screamed in panic. From the front came a blood-curdling scream, cut off abruptly.
"W-What was that?!" one of the men shouted.
The skinny man beside the boss tried to stand, but before he could move—
SPLAAAT!
His body exploded where he stood. Flesh, bone, and blood sprayed in all directions, splattering across the wagon's interior.
For a heartbeat, silence fell.
Then, almost at the same time, the others around him followed—bodies erupting into crimson mist, one after another.
The burly man's face was drenched in fresh blood. His eyes widened, breath hitched. He froze, unable to believe that the man he had scolded just moments ago, along with the people around him... were now nothing but scattered chunks of meat on the floor.
With trembling hands, he wiped blood from his eyes and staggered out of the wagon.
What he saw outside nearly brought him to his knees.
Every one of their horses was dead, butchered into pieces strewn across the blood-soaked road. His men—every single one—lay torn apart, intestines spilled, heads severed from their bodies. The road had become a slaughterfield.
And there, half-hidden among the trees at the roadside, stood a lone woman. Her red hair fell in slight waves. Her eyes blazed like burning embers of hell. That gaze, the very one that had been haunting his mind.
The burly man's heart nearly burst. Without a second thought, he dropped to his knees, pressing his face into the dirt, his whole body shaking violently.
"F-Forgive me! Forgive me, Your Highness! I didn't mean to offend you… please… spare my life…"
Ashtoria only stared at him, her expression cold, unyielding. Silent.
The man trembled, waiting for her reply.
But before a word could leave Ashtoria's lips—
SPLAAAT!
His body detonated into a rain of gore, scattering across the bloody earth.
The road was silent once more. No sound but the whisper of wind carrying the stench of death.
Ashtoria stood amidst the carnage, her crimson hair swaying gently. Her lips moved, her voice low, almost like a murmur to herself.
"No one must know that I am still alive… not yet."
A black raven swooped down, landing on the ground before her, then fluttering up to perch on a nearby branch. Its eyes gleamed, sharp and intelligent.
Ashtoria turned her gaze toward it. Her eyes were sharp, but not surprised. She knew the bird had been following her for a while. Slowly, she raised her hand, her fingers brushing lightly against its wing.
.
.
.
The late afternoon sky was beginning to dim, golden sunlight streaming through gaps in the forest canopy, reflecting on the surface of a small river where they had stopped. The water glimmered like liquid glass, while the breeze carried the damp scent of earth, mingled with the faint aroma of burning wood.
It had only been about three hours since their last rest, yet they had stopped again, deciding to continue their journey the next morning.
Riven had done it on purpose. He knew they could reach the city of Glimfell much sooner, but he chose to slow their pace. His reason was simple, he wanted more time. There was still so much he had to learn from her, and he intended to make the most of the delay.
At the riverbank, a campfire burned steadily, its orange glow warm and steady. Sparks crackled as the wood hissed. The smell of fresh fish roasting on sticks began to spread, mouthwatering and rich.
Melly sat close to Ashtoria, hugging her knees, eyes fixed on the fish as it slowly turned golden, the skin glistening with natural oils. Suddenly, her stomach growled loudly, and her face flushed red.
"Uh… brother… it smells so good…" she whined softly, pressing her hands against her stomach.
Riven stifled a laugh as he added another stick to the fire.
"Just a little longer. Be patient."
A few minutes later, he lifted six skewers of roasted fish, their savory scent filling the air even more. He handed one to Melly.
The girl's face lit up instantly, and she devoured it eagerly like a child starved for days. Riven chuckled.
"Slow down, or you'll choke on the bones."
Then he turned to Ashtoria. The red-haired woman sat calmly, the firelight casting shadows over her pale, untouchable features. Riven offered her a skewer.
"Probably nothing compared to the feasts on a noble's table," Riven said, his tone half-teasing. "But still, eat. At least it fills the belly. Not bad, even if it's far from palace cooking."
Melly, her mouth still full, chimed in cheerfully,
"Yeah! My brother's roasted fish is the best! Try it, you won't regret it!"
Riven just shook his head with a small smile at his sister's chatter.
Ashtoria stared at the roasted fish for a moment, the firelight flickering in her eyes. Then, without a word, she bit into the tail first. The smoky, salty flavor spread across her tongue. The texture was simple, rough compared to the meals she was used to. But there was something else, a warmth that was different. She continued eating slowly, without glancing at the others.
Riven stole a glance. He hadn't expected her to actually try it, let alone finish an entire skewer. Without hesitation, Ashtoria reached for another.
Her expression remained unreadable, her gaze calm. But Riven knew—from the way she ate—that she seemed to enjoy it, even if just a little.
"You're a strange woman," Riven said suddenly, narrowing his eyes at her.
Ashtoria turned, one eyebrow raised slightly, as if waiting for him to explain.
Riven continued,
"At first, I thought you were just another noble. Arrogant, cold, prideful. But you've never complained. You never look down on us, street rats like me and Melly. You're… different."
Melly nodded quickly, her mouth still full.
"Yeah! Miss Aria is really nice. Not like the other nobles I've seen in town."
Ashtoria fell silent. Her gaze shifted briefly to the shimmering river, then back to Riven. Something within her stirred—subtle, but undeniable.
"So… you think I'm worse than them?" Her voice was soft, but cutting.
Riven blinked, caught off guard.
"Worse? Why would you think that?"
He looked at her, his tone softer now.
"I just praised you. Even though I've only just met you… I can already say you're better than most nobles I've ever met."
For a fleeting moment, Ashtoria's expression shifted. Not a smile, not sorrow. But something faint, almost imperceptible. Yet Riven saw it: a thin crack in the icy shell that wrapped around her. A flicker of something strange.
Something that made her look… alive.