Time passed as the carriage forced its way through the rocky passage. Knowing that their plan—shared by only a select few—had been leaked so easily, they couldn't afford to stop anymore.
The only delay came from changing their carriage. Fortunately, Tirandel handled that swiftly.
Just like that, a journey meant to take weeks reached its destination in only three days.
'It certainly lives up to its name.'
Noah took in the crowded streets as their carriage barely squeezed through. Unlike the imperial capital, this city was packed shoulder to shoulder with people—hawkers shouting prices, pedestrians brushing against the carriage, and children darting between wheels
Shops lined the pavement as far as the eye could see. A cacophony of voices, clattering carts, and ringing bells flooded his senses, making Noah feel strangely suffocated.
"Not like how it's shown in the books, huh?"
Turning to Tirandel, Noah asked, "What makes you think that?"
"Just a guess."
With that, Tirandel returned his gaze to the window. Cool air brushed against Noah's face, making the cut on his face sting faintly.
Over the past few days, too much had happened—things he couldn't share with anyone, nor even find the time to properly process.
When he woke up two days ago, Noah learned that one of the assassins had slipped behind him during the fight. What surprised him most was that Leon had dealt with the aftermath.
Once the shock faded, he was left with two long days to dwell on what he had done back at the inn.
What he did couldn't possibly be brushed aside as self-defense. At least not by himself of all people.
'As far as I know, they were suppressed by Leon's presence from the very beginning.'
It wasn't just unfair to Noah—who was supposed to be weaker than them even individually—but the assassins also had to keep Leon in mind the entire time.
Unfortunately, that wasn't what irritated him all this time.
'This is vexing.'
When Noah chose to embark on this journey—silently accepting Leon as his master—he had made a promise to himself: he would not become another cynical killer.
But not even a day passed, and he had already killed a person. Even if that person was an assassin, he couldn't excuse himself from the fact that he killed someone.
At the time, it had felt like the only logical move. He was weaker than his opponents; the fight would end only when either he died—or they did.
He looked down at his calloused hands. 'Not even a shred of guilt… is this what I truly am?'
No matter how many times he replayed the memory, Noah couldn't feel guilty about killing the assassin. As a matter of fact, he didn't feel anything at all.
This realization enraged him.
Unfortunately, Noah didn't have the time to manage his emotions.
The carriage lurched to a halt. Noah pushed the door open and stepped outside.
'Hah… I can't afford to sink into this now. We still have a princess to save,' Noah muttered.
"Um, Noah?"
Turning around, Noah realized Alice was waiting patiently to step down from the carriage. He quickly moved aside, a faint flush of embarrassment creeping up.
He hadn't even noticed how long he'd been standing there.
The Investigation Bureau had already rented a small house on the outskirts of the city. It was a modest place, one that could house a large family at most.
From here, Noah could easily spot sprawling estates in the distance—astronomically larger than their own. It was discreet enough to avoid attention.
The neighborhood itself belonged firmly to the lower districts. Cracked pavement ran along the streets, refuse piling near corners. The alleys were narrow, shadowed, and unmistakably dangerous.
It was the kind of place the city preferred to forget.
Even without heightening his perception, Noah felt several gazes linger on their group the moment they arrived.
'They want us to find a kidnapped girl in this place? Ugh, just thinking about it is giving me a headache.'
With no luggage to worry about, Alice, Leon, Elira, and Bernard headed straight inside.
Leon disappeared first, the crowd seeming to part around him without anyone realizing why.
"If you're not going inside, do you want to accompany me instead?"
The carriage was already gone. Noah glanced up at the still-bright sun and nodded. "Sure."
The streets were nearly overflowing at this hour. Carriages squeezed through the masses, yet everyone seemed to move with an unspoken rhythm—dodging, weaving, yielding without collision.
Noah tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword and clicked his tongue. 'Should've left it at the safehouse.'
During the journey, Noah had been given several folders—detailing the plan, contingency routes, and unfamiliar terms like 'checkpoints' and 'safehouses.'
Recalling the detailed map he'd studied the night before, Noah fixed their current position in his mind.
Four major landmarks had stood out to him. The first was the church—northwest, and the closest structure to the route they'd used to enter the outskirts.
As his eyes drifted toward the church's tall spire on the left, someone slammed into his shoulder.
"Ah—sorry!"
He turned just in time to see a child sprinting through the crowd. The boy collided with several others before vanishing into the sea of people.
'What was that about…'
"What are you waiting for? We're here." Tirandel said, pointing toward a large building at the end of the street.
"Yeah, let's go."
*****
Aren shoved his way through the crowd with everything he had. His chest pounded violently, throat dry and burning, as if his heart might leap from his mouth.
Finally, unable to endure any longer, he slipped into an empty alley.
He collapsed to the ground, wiping sweat from his eyes with his shirt. Clutched in his left hand was a newspaper, damp from his grip.
'I… I need to move.'
As he struggled to catch his breath, Aren noticed footsteps approaching. Too exhausted to care, he didn't bother to look up.
The figure stopped in front of him, pulled the scarf from her face, and said, "What's got you so worked up?"
Despite the exhaustion, Aren forced out a crooked smirk. "You idiot… what took you so long, Iriel?"