"She's asleep," Sibel whispered.
"Now what do we do?" Toby asked, lowering his voice as Orin rejoined them, having just peeked outside at Gendry snoring.
"Plan, Toby," Orin hissed. "We need a plan."
"Wait… are we really doing this?" Toby's voice was strained.
"Of course," Sibel snapped, fierce and quiet. "I'm not letting that freak lay a hand on her ever again."
"But if we do this… we could die," Toby said, glancing nervously around the room. The charioteer was still slumped in the corner.
"We know," Sibel said.
"So?" Orin added. "We still doing it."
Toby's jaw clenched. He scanned the room, calculating. "We can't beat the knight. Our half-assed magic wouldn't even scratch him."
"Then what?" Sibel asked.
Toby held up a finger. "Wait. Orin, give me the newspaper."
"Oh—hold on." Orin tiptoed over and grabbed it from the table.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Sibel whispered.
"Shhh," Toby muttered, eyes scanning the print.
A pause. Then—
"Found it."
He tapped the bottom of the page and grinned.
"This… this is where they're staying. Rethrus and the Avalorians."
"Then our main goal is clear: we get the kid to the Avalorians. They're the only ones we can trust."
"We can't go to the City Watch," Toby added. "They're just lapdogs. Frings probably owns half of them already."
"Then we do this ourselves," Orin said, cracking his knuckles.
No more words were needed. The three of them huddled around the dimming fire, voices low, eyes sharp.
They planned through the night—routes, supplies, distractions, contingencies.
All for one mission.
Get the girl to Rethrus. No matter what.
The forest was dead quiet.
Moonlight spilled between the tall, skeletal trees, casting pale silver streaks across the clearing. Fog hung low over the grass, curling around stones and roots like smoke from an unseen fire. The wind had long since died, leaving the night air heavy—so still it felt like even the stars were holding their breath.
The small lodge stood at the edge of the woods, its wooden frame dark and quiet. A faint orange glow from the dying hearth flickered through the cracks in the shutters.
Outside, on a tree stump near the front steps, Gendry sat slumped forward, his massive form cloaked in shadow. One hand rested loosely on the hilt of his sword. His chin touched his chest, breath slow and steady.
Asleep—but even in sleep, he looked like a statue carved from iron.
Even in sleep, Gendry's awareness was razor-sharp.
'Footsteps… Must be the charioteer,' he thought, eyes still closed.
But then came more.
Two sets.
'Huh? What the hell are those two dumbasses doing at this hour?'
He didn't stir. Just listened.
'Wait… No, there's only two of them. Maybe they're just taking a leak. I need to focus on resting.'
Gendry let out a slow breath and settled back.
But moments later, the horses started to whinny—low, restless sounds that broke the night's stillness.
'The charioteer… What's he doing?'
His eyes snapped open.
The chariot was already halfway down the trail, wheels thundering faintly into the dark, heading toward the capital.
He turned his head toward the house.
And looked again at the Chariot where Orin stood, flame dancing in one hand, grinning mockingly at him.
It clicked.
"They're making a run for it."
Gendry grabbed his sword and sprinted after the chariot, his presence cutting through the fog like a phantom. No magic, no mana—just raw speed. A knight of Frings, and one of their best.
And he was gaining.
"Damn, I'm glad he doesn't have magic," Orin muttered, beads of sweat on his brow.
"Now, Orin!" Toby shouted from the back of the wagon.
Flames shot from Orin's palms, roaring through the air toward Gendry. The knight veered sideways, barely slowing, his blade flashing to deflect the fire.
Toby's heart pounded as the trees rushed past.
'We're orphans too… We know how hard it is. Living like ghosts in our own country. Funny how the kingdom can afford to wage wars—but most of us don't even know what luxury smells like.'
He remembered Xiaolan.
'She deserves to taste that life. Even just once. And if we have to fight for it—then so be it.'
Orin snarled and hurled another blast of fire.
"Come on, you freak! Try me!"
The chase had begun.
The charioteer jolted awake by the absence of the chariot.
The low crackle of fire... the absence of hooves.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes, sat up, and rubbed his face. Something felt off. Too quiet.
Then he noticed—the chariot was gone.
"What the hell...?" he muttered, stumbling to his feet.
He rushed outside.
The night air hit him cold and damp. Moonlight spilled over the road, where a distant orange flicker danced across the trees. Fire. Far off, but moving. Fast.
It was the chariot—barreling down the path toward the capital, flames lighting its trail.
He stood frozen for a breath.
Then he turned—slowly, carefully—and looked behind him.
There, by the door, stood Sibel—smiling.
The wind stirred around her feet as she stepped forward, her cloak billowing.
Before the charioteer could speak, her heel whipped through the air with precision. One sharp kick landed square in his chest.
Thud.
He collapsed against the wooden frame, eyes rolling back—out cold.
Sibel shook out her leg and sighed. "Didn't want to do that, but… oh well."
From behind her, a soft voice stirred.
"…What's happening?"
Sibel turned her head slightly. Xiaolan had woken up, her arms loosely around Sibel's shoulders—draped across her back like a tiny pack of trust.
"Oh! You're awake," Sibel said gently, smiling over her shoulder. "Hey, no worries. We're just heading out."
Xiaolan blinked, still half-asleep. "Where's Toby… and Orin?"
"They're just… handling something. Don't worry, they'll catch up. Right now, it's my job to get you out of here. We're too far from the city."
Xiaolan was quiet for a beat. Then she smiled softly and leaned her head against Sibel's back, her breath warm on her shoulder.
"…Thank you."
Sibel's smile widened, but her eyes stayed sharp as she walked into the dark.
Back to the Chase
Gendry was still keeping up with the chariot.
'If the girl stepped into the capital and Lord Frings was right-about that Avalorian who could detect people's race-then I'm totally screwed.'
Suddenly, Gendry stopped chasing.
Orin's eyes widened. "Did he just give up?"
Nope.
Gendry lowered his feet, pressing them hard against the ground. He put mana on his feet and with a sudden burst, he shot toward the chariot.
Orin's jaw dropped. He fired a blast, and the fire hit Gendry-but the distance between them kept shrinking.
"Toby, faster!" Orin barked.
"I'm trying!" Toby yelled back, whipping the horses harder.
"I've had enough of this," Gendry muttered, gripping his sword tight. With a fierce swing, he slashed through the air, sending a shockwave rippling forward.
Orin felt something invisible hurtling toward him. He fired another fireblast-but this time, the flame was sliced clean in half.
Gendry's attack slammed into the chariot, shattering it to pieces.
Gendry's chest heaved as he surveyed the wreckage. 'Damnit, the kid was in there. What if she's bruised?'
His fists clenched. 'Lord Frings is gonna punish me for this, no doubt.'
He darted toward the shattered chariot, eyes scanning frantically for the girl. But neither she nor Sibel was anywhere to be found.
A sudden laugh broke the tense silence behind him.
Turning sharply, Gendry saw Toby and Orin, dusting themselves off with amused grins.
"Took you long enough," Toby chuckled, wiping dirt from his face.
Orin smirked. "Thought you'd never catch up."
Gendry just smirked, his sword's edge dragging lightly on the ground. 'Too late, then.'
"You know what your lord's doing to that kid, right?" Orin shouted.
"I'm his knight, his pawn. All I have to do is follow his command," Gendry replied coolly.
"You two really want to fight, knowing it could end your life?" He added, eyes narrowing.
Orin and Toby exchanged smirks. Flames danced on both of Orin's fists, while Toby's hands glowed with earth magic.
"YES!" they answered in unison, grinning.
'Take your time, Sibel. We'll do whatever it takes to buy you enough time,' Toby thought.
Gendry laughed, a low, fierce sound. "Ha! So be it. Let's see what you've got!"