After a short jog, the squad burst into the market square.
"They're here!" someone shouted, heads snapping toward them.
"Yes, we're here—make way!" the Captain barked, forcing a path through the murmuring crowd as his men followed close behind.
"Shit—!" one of the soldiers gagged, clamping a hand over his mouth as the stench hit him.
The Captain stopped dead.
"…What the hell happened here?"
Seven massive pillars of ice jutted from the ground.
Six were arranged in a perfect hexagon—precise, deliberate.
The seventh towered at the center, taller than the rest, jagged and gleaming beneath the sun.
Impaled at its peak was Davis.
His body had been pierced clean through the torso, frozen in place, his face locked in a silent scream.
The Captain's jaw tightened as he slowly scanned the scene.
"Who could've done this…?" he muttered.
"Yeah, Davis was a bastard," one of the men said uneasily, "but who did he piss off this bad?"
The Captain knelt beside one of the pillars, resting a gloved hand against the ice.
His expression darkened.
"These aren't structures," he said quietly. "They're solid ice."
The realization hit like a punch.
"Whoever did this…" he continued, rising to his feet, "…is a Planetary-Type Longinus user."
A heavy silence followed.
"I thought he was gone," one soldier whispered. "The Ice Longinus user…"
"So he was alive," the Captain said grimly. "And Davis managed to draw his attention."
He glanced up at the central spike, eyes narrowing.
"What the hell did Davis do to provoke someone of that caliber…?"
Then his voice hardened.
"Get those bodies down. Now."
"Yes, sir!" several men replied at once, already moving.
The Captain turned toward the gathered townsfolk, his posture straight, his voice firm.
"We're with the Stellaluna Circle Guild. This situation is under control. If anyone saw or heard anything unusual, now is the time to speak."
Silence.
The crowd stared back at him—wide-eyed, pale, unmoving.
The Captain's tone softened, just slightly.
"Please," he said. "If someone can do this to an A-rank party, they won't hesitate to do worse to the rest of you."
The silence stretched—until a small hand tugged on Seth's coat.
Seth looked down.
A young boy stood there clutching a ragged teddy bear, eyes shaking with fear.
"S-Sir…" the boy whispered. "I… I saw something."
"Captain!" Seth called.
The Captain was beside them in an instant.
Seth crouched to the boy's level.
"It's okay," he said gently. "You can tell us."
The Captain watched closely from behind.
"Last night…" the boy began, voice trembling. "I heard screaming. From the forest."
Seth glanced up. "The forest?"
The Captain nodded once.
"That's more than enough," he said. "You did good, kid."
He straightened and addressed the crowd.
"You can return to your businesses. We'll take it from here."
Then he turned sharply to his squad.
"Half of you, with me—we're heading into the forest. Stay sharp. If something capable of wiping out an A-rank party is out there, be ready to fight."
He looked to the rest.
"The others—get the bodies back to Guild HQ."
"Yes, sir!" the squad answered in unison.
......
"Ugh, how much longer do we have to wait?" Akeno groaned, flopping dramatically onto Boros' back like a cat claiming a sunny windowsill.
"Get off me!" Boros snapped, twisting to shove her off—but she clung tighter, a teasing grin tugging at her lips.
They wrestled briefly, her laughter mingling with his irritated grunts, until a calm, measured voice cut through the chaos.
"Excuse me," said a middle-aged man, approaching with a polite smile. "Looking for gear?"
"Yes," Kinuko said smoothly, stepping forward. "We are."
"Right this way, then."
As they followed the merchant through the market streets, heads turned. Not to him, Boros noted, but to the girls.
Akeno and Kinuko moved with the effortless grace of people used to attention. From a distance, they could almost pass for twins—matching proportions, flawless posture, and perfect poise. Only their hair set them apart: Akeno's a deep, flowing blue; Kinuko's shimmering white, silky, just past her shoulders.
Boros muttered under his breath, "Why do I feel like I'm the one on display?"
"Hey!" he snapped, grabbing a gawking man by the collar. "What the hell are you staring at?!"
"You got a death wish?" Akeno added, stepping up beside him, eyes narrowing.
The man froze, trembling.
"You wanna die?!" Boros bellowed.
"Yeah, you wanna—" Akeno began, but Boros shot her a sharp glare.
"If you don't want my help, just say it," she muttered, awkwardly digging her toe into the dirt and looking away.
"I didn't ask for your help, dumbass!" Boros snapped, shoving the man aside.
"Oh, that's real nice," Akeno shot back, stepping up until their foreheads nearly touched. "That's how you thank a lady for backing you up?"
"Uh, guys?" Kinuko interjected, cutting the tension. "Remember? Gear. That's why we're here."
"Tch, fine," Boros muttered, falling into step behind her and the merchant.
"You've got quite the energetic crew," the merchant said with a chuckle.
Boros narrowed his eyes. "How'd you know we were looking for gear? You following us, old man?"
"Oh, not at all," the merchant replied smoothly. "The blacksmith mentioned you were headed my way."
They reached the shop, and the merchant turned to them with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry for the wait—something happened over at—"
"Yeah, yeah, save the story," Boros cut him off. "We're not here to gossip."
"Right, right—this way," the merchant said, leading them inside.
Once inside, he leaned casually against the counter, grinning. "So, what kind of gear are you looking for?"
Boros crossed his arms, eyes scanning the racks. "Depends. What've you got?"
"The usual spread," the merchant said, gesturing to the walls: swords, daggers, bows, spears—armor, light for mobility, heavy if you're planning to take hits."
Boros nodded. "Good to know… but, uh… got any regular clothes?"
The merchant raised a brow, smirk tugging at his lips. "Rough stretch, huh?"
Since leaving the Eastern Cardinal, Boros, Akeno, and Kinuko had been stuck in rinse-and-repeat mode literally—same clothes, different day.
"Yeah… been a minute," Akeno muttered, tugging at her slightly worn sleeve.
"Say no more," the merchant chuckled. "Follow me."
He led them past racks of glinting steel and leather into a tucked-away corner where the scent of fresh fabric replaced the tang of metal. Leaning on the counter, he grinned.
"Alright. What can I hook you guys up with?"
Boros's gaze swept the racks. "Not gonna lie… there's a lot to choose from," he said, scratching the back of his head.
"Ah, right!" the merchant said, holding up a finger. "Before you pick anything, you should know—clothing isn't just fashion. It's function and status."
"Function and status?" Kinuko raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly," he nodded. "We've got gear for everyone—everyday folks, adventurers, guild members, even nobles. What you're looking for? That's Flow-wear—basic, everyday clothing most people wear."
He gestured toward a nearby section lined with light, layered outfits.
"So… knowing that, have you made up your minds yet?"