The night air in Southmark was unusually still, the breeze hushed as if holding its breath. The moon hung low, veiled by drifting clouds, casting eerie silver streaks over the rooftops. Ryuuji crouched on the ridge of a worn stable opposite the Count's manor, his cloak blending into the dark.
His sharp eyes studied the sprawling estate. Four towers marked each corner of the manor, each lit with enchanted flame. Guards patrolled in pairs, predictable in their routes, overly reliant on the false security of noble rank. But Ryuuji knew better—evil wore silk and sat on thrones, too.
"Two entrances," he muttered. "Front's a no-go. Side servant's door… unlocked last I scouted."
He dropped silently to the cobbled alley below. The ground barely noticed his weight as he moved like a shadow across the courtyard. With a whisper of his fingers, a soft wave of [Silent Step] magic muffled the crunch of gravel under his boots.
The servant's door was, as predicted, ajar. Not carelessness—bait. But Ryuuji wasn't walking into a trap.
He murmured a second spell—[Sense Hostility]—and stepped inside.
The corridor beyond was dim and smelled faintly of roasted meat and polished marble. Ryuuji slipped past the kitchen, careful not to alert the two sleepy servants dozing by the hearth. He moved up the servants' stairs, counting floors, listening for any unusual sounds.
Jarred's letter had been clear: the Count had taken an interest in Marla for reasons unknown. The town's guard turned a blind eye. Gold, status, or fear—it didn't matter. What mattered was getting her out.
On the third floor, Ryuuji halted. A magical signature—a weak one—lingered on the door nearest the eastern tower. He placed his hand against the cool wood and closed his eyes.
A muffled sob.
He opened his eyes.
[Unlock.]
The door creaked open. A faint shimmer dispersed as a ward spell failed.
Inside, the room was lavishly decorated—canopied bed, velvet curtains, a gilded dresser. A crystal chandelier swayed ever so slightly, disturbed by Ryuuji's entrance. But what caught his eye was the figure curled on a cushioned bench by the window.
A woman, bound and cloaked in magic chains.
"Marla," Ryuuji whispered.
Her head jerked up, eyes wide. "R-Ryuuji?"
Relief and disbelief warred on her tear-stained face.
"I'm here. Let's get you out."
He crossed the room in three strides, examining the chains. Demonforged. Complicated. He could break them, but not without noise. A simpler solution...
He reached into his pouch and pulled out a clear stone engraved with ancient runes.
"Hold still," he said. "This'll sting a bit."
He placed the stone on the chain. A bright light flared, and the metal hissed before vanishing into black smoke. Marla gasped and fell into his arms.
"You came," she whispered, clutching him. "Jarred—he—he told me not to give up."
Ryuuji smiled gently. "That tavern fool loves you more than life. He'd crawl through fire if he thought it would help."
"He tried everything. They told him I was gone. That I belonged to the Count now…"
Ryuuji's expression darkened. "Not anymore."
A knock on the door shattered the calm.
"Milady? Are you awake?"
A butler's voice.
Marla froze. Ryuuji set her behind the dresser and cast [Veil of Silence] across the room.
The door opened.
A tall, thin man stepped inside, looking annoyed. "Milady, if you insist on—"
He stopped. The empty room. His brows furrowed.
Too slow.
Ryuuji moved like lightning, slipping behind him and striking the man's pressure point at the base of his neck. He crumpled.
Marla stared, wide-eyed. "That was…"
"Learned that back home. We called it the 'Lights Out Tap.' Let's go."
They crept down the corridor, retracing Ryuuji's path. But as they neared the stairs, the worst happened.
A patrol guard turned the corner, eyes locking with Ryuuji's.
"Intruder!"
Damn.
No more stealth.
Ryuuji swept Marla into his arms and ran. Behind him, shouts echoed. Steel rang. Footsteps thundered.
They burst through the servant's door and into the alley. Just as Ryuuji prepared to leap the wall—
A spell flared. [Chain Bind] aimed at his feet.
Ryuuji spun mid-air, dodging the magical lasso, and landed on the far side with a roll.
"Hold on!" he told Marla.
He sprinted through back streets, weaving between crates, ducking under awnings. A fireball exploded behind them, missing by inches. The guards had magic support now.
He darted into a small tunnel under a bakery and burst out near the old well where he'd placed a sigil stone earlier.
He slammed his palm into the stone, activating the [Return Beacon].
Light engulfed them.
In seconds, they vanished from Southmark.
They reappeared in Jarred's basement—the only safehouse Ryuuji had prepared ahead.
Marla slumped into a pile of hay, trembling but safe.
Moments later, Jarred came crashing through the door. His face pale, his hands trembling. "Marla?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "J-Jarred!"
They ran to each other, embracing tightly.
Ryuuji stepped back quietly, giving them space.
He smiled softly. He'd fought demons. He'd crushed kings. But moments like this… they mattered more.
"Rest now," he whispered. "But something tells me the Count's not done yet."
He looked toward the window, where the stars watched in silence.