Southmark was alive with morning bustle—merchants setting up stalls, children chasing one another through the market streets, and nobles sipping overpriced tea in shaded gardens. The sun bathed the town in warm gold, but it did nothing to soften the icy purpose in Ryuuji's gaze.
He wore no hood today. No enchanted cloak to dim his presence. No spells to silence his footsteps.
He walked openly down the cobbled roads, the sunlight gleaming against the polished steel of his bracer and the worn traveler's sword hanging at his waist. Passersby moved aside instinctively, sensing something ancient and untamed behind those calm brown eyes.
He wasn't hiding anymore.
The night before, Marla had finally found her voice.
She'd told him everything.
The Count—Lareston Velhane—had set eyes on her during a business exchange, and after discovering her relation to Jarred, decided she was "too fine a gem to be wasted on a tavern keeper." When persuasion failed, he'd resorted to abduction, suppressing her aura and chaining her with demonforged shackles.
He hadn't laid a hand on her—yet—but his plans were clear. In three days, she was to be displayed as his "fiancée" during a noble summit.
Three days. Now down to two.
Ryuuji didn't knock at the manor gates this time.
He simply walked up to the guards flanking the iron-wrought entrance, smiled faintly, and said, "I heard there's a Count here who enjoys collecting things that don't belong to him. Mind if I pay my respects?"
The guards blinked. "Name?"
"Asahi Ryuuji," he said.
Their faces paled. One of them hesitated. "You—you mean that Ryuuji?"
"I wasn't aware there was more than one."
The second guard immediately bowed. "P-Please wait, sir! We'll summon the Count immediately!"
Ryuuji leaned casually against the gatepost. "No rush. I'm just a traveler. Happened to be nearby, remembered I had an old friend living here. Thought I'd drop by, enjoy some scenery, catch up. Real peaceful town you've got."
Peaceful on the surface, he didn't say aloud.
A few minutes later, the gates opened with a creak, and a man in rich violet robes strode forward. Count Velhane. A handsome noble in his late thirties with slick blond hair and a self-satisfied smirk.
"Sir Asahi Ryuuji, hero of the continent," the Count greeted with mock surprise and a deep bow. "What an unexpected pleasure. Please—come in."
Ryuuji gave a shallow nod and stepped inside.
The manor interior hadn't changed. Opulence draped every corner—velvet curtains, gold-leafed pillars, enchanted paintings. But Ryuuji saw none of it. He only saw the man walking beside him, measured and rehearsed in every word.
"You honor my humble estate," Velhane said, motioning toward the sitting lounge. "Tea?"
"I'm more of a water and rice kind of guy," Ryuuji replied, taking a seat. "Tell me, Count. How's the city treating you?"
"Well, well!" Velhane chuckled. "Southmark is thriving under my guidance. Trade is good. Law and order—well maintained. We recently had a minor issue with bandits to the east, but nothing my guard couldn't handle."
Ryuuji raised an eyebrow. "Really? I heard a tavern keeper's wife went missing. Seems like something more serious than bandits."
Velhane's eyes narrowed—just a fraction. "Oh? That old matter. Terrible business. I believe she fled town. Domestic troubles, I heard."
"You don't say."
"I trust the authorities are handling it."
Ryuuji leaned back in the plush seat. "You know, it's funny. I came here for a visit. An old friend helped me when I was new to this world. Gave me a place to sleep, taught me which coins were which, even taught me how to order food when I didn't know the language. Just a small-time tavern owner, but a good man."
Velhane stayed silent.
Ryuuji looked straight at him. "And when I got here, I learned his wife vanished. Same week you hosted some very interesting private guests, and some very expensive silence from the city watch."
The count's smile didn't crack. "I hope you're not implying I had something to do with such a lowly scandal. Surely, a hero of your caliber wouldn't—"
Ryuuji stood up.
The count's words died.
"There's a saying where I come from," Ryuuji said softly, "If you spit at the sky, don't be surprised when rain hits your face."
He took a step closer, and the very air seemed to warp around him.
"I'm not here to play noble games. I'm not here to challenge your title, or shake the city's order. I'm here to send a message."
He leaned forward just slightly, so only Velhane could hear his next words.
"She's safe. She's with him. You lost. This ends now."
Velhane's eyes widened, his mask slipping. "You—"
"If anything happens to Jarred, to Marla, or even their damn cat, I'll turn your manor into a crater."
Ryuuji turned and walked toward the door.
"You think you can threaten me in my own home?" Velhane snapped, trembling with rage.
Ryuuji paused in the doorway.
"Not threatening," he said calmly. "Just telling you the weather forecast."
He left without looking back.
The guards outside stepped aside, pale as ghosts. They didn't even try to ask questions.
As Ryuuji walked back through Southmark, the townspeople noticed the shift in the air. Whispers spread. A legend had come and gone, and something terrible had been avoided without a single sword being drawn.
He returned to Jarred's home before noon. Marla was resting. Jarred met him at the door.
"Did… did you talk to him?"
"Yeah," Ryuuji said, loosening his bracer and hanging it by the door. "He won't bother you again."
Jarred exhaled shakily. "Thank you. I—I didn't know what else to do."
"You did everything right. You protected your family." Ryuuji patted his shoulder. "Now it's my turn."
That evening, as the sky turned orange, Ryuuji sat alone on the roof, watching birds fly over the town's silhouette. The world was still turning. Peace was fragile. But sometimes, all it took to preserve it… was showing up.
And reminding the world why you once made demons tremble.