Both tried to act natural, but the condition of their clothes would not have fooled a blind man. Aran combed his greasy hair. "We can face them."

Cora widened his eyes. "What? They'll kill us!"

"Think about it, they can't use their weapons."

"Are you crazy, Aran?"

"And it's the only way to find out what they know." He pointed to two pieces of wood, the remains of a destroyed crate. "We'll set a trap for them, and then Camiel will take care of the rest."

Cora had both hands sliding down his face. "You said we have to come out of this alive! And now you want to try to knock them down?" He pushed him hard. "The girls, Aran! The girls!"

Aran seemed to snap out of it. He nodded, but his gaze was lost. "Marmorel, right," he finally whispered.

They returned to the palace square and took the same narrow alley they had walked through that morning.

Aran stopped in his tracks, and Cora dodged him by a hair. He was about to ask for an explanation when he saw it too: the third Kharzanian was waiting for them, sitting on a barrel with his hands together. "Hello," he said.

One look, and the boys ran towards the street they had come from.

However, their escape was blocked by the silhouettes of the men who thought they had lost them. One of them grabbed Cora by the shoulder. Aran stopped, ran towards the soldier, and pushed him. "Hey, leave him alone!" he shouted. But the other man blocked him too.

Cora tried to wriggle out of his grasp in vain. "Who are you? What do you want from us?"

The man sitting on the barrels approached them. He was pale and well-groomed, with a strange plum-colored jacket on which shone the Kharzanian emblem and military rank; brand new shoes.

"Uh-huh... what do we have here?" the soldier began. "You know," he said with satisfaction, "you made me suffer, really. I didn't think I was lucky enough to find you in Amanastre." He spoke slowly.

Cora shuddered. He felt his guts twist and the instinct to run pressing, but the grip of the person holding him seemed made of iron.

"Well, let's get to the introductions," the Kharzanian continued. "I am Captain Nelson Vega, Special Seorite Recovery Section... which one of you is Aran Allet?" he said, lighting a cigarette.

"You've got the wrong person," Aran yelled, but Vega replied with a wicked grin. An expression so artificial that it made one nauseous.

"Oh, no, I don't think so... and if I had to bet, at first glance, I'd say you're Ludvig Allet's son. You don't lack anything from your father, maybe a beard and a few white locks here and there. He, on the other hand, is the orphan." He clicked his lips. "Did I guess right?"

Aran wriggled and kicked, but his anger only hit the air.

"At the beginning of the search... and I mean after the unfortunate events that struck Lud, we thought you were around that region. But to our surprise, we even found out that you've been to Edel. Very clever," he added. He took a drag and blew out a couple of smoke rings.

"You destroyed our city," Cora barked.

"I don't have much time to waste... just tell me where the shipment is..." Nelson Vega squinted. "Are you placing it in Amanastre? Do you want it to depart for Hozma? Be honest, and I promise I'll treat you well."

"What did you do to my parents?" Aran wriggled so hard that he almost seemed to be able to free himself. The soldier holding him shook him and knocked him out with a punch to the back of the neck.

Nelson Vega looked at Cora. His face was impassive despite the brutal act. "You can make it easier and have the freedom to leave this place on your own two feet," the Captain said.

"You slaughtered hundreds of people without mercy," Cora spat. A strong smell of rancid invaded his nostrils.

The officer grimaced and slapped him. The burning sensation came immediately, but lighter than Cora had expected. It wasn't a blow to harm, it was a clear message on who was in charge.

"We only asserted our rights. Unfortunately, those who did not comply had to submit to the law. Now, tell me, where did you leave the Seorite?" Vega's gaze became ferocious. "Or I swear I'll pierce your heart!"

Cora trembled, and his legs couldn't hold the weight of his body.

Vega relaxed his shoulders. "I'm sorry for my manners, but I think you'll agree with me that following us outside the boundaries of this city is the best solution," he whispered. In his eyes, Cora could see the madness of a predator, the thirst for blood that he would satisfy.

The Kharzanian who held him shook him more vigorously, and the medallion that Cora kept in his pocket fell to the ground along with a handful of coins. Vega raised an eyebrow and bent down to pick up the broken plaque. "And what's this?" he asked, holding it with two fingers and examining it closely.

"Give it back to me! It's mine!" Cora reached out, but in vain. "It's my father's!"

A smile appeared on Nelson Vega's face. "Really?" He looked at Cora. "Hmm, then we're on the same side." He returned the medallion to its place in the boy's pocket. "Ethan wouldn't be proud of your behavior."

Cora opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He shook his head and pointed at Aran. "We're not on the same side! You're murderers!"

Vega gestured to his man to release Cora. The boy turned to look at the soldier and swallowed.

"I understand," said Captain Nelson Vega. "You think you'd be betraying your friends if you told me where the shipment is... honorable in some ways." He nodded without conviction. "But if that recognition plate really belongs to your father, you're not betraying anyone. You have Kharzanian blood, and by birthright, you can apply for citizenship." His voice was calm. "I can help you with the paperwork in Edel."

Cora frowned. "Kharzanian by birthright?" he muttered.

Someone appeared at the entrance to the alley. "Kallup, look who's here," said Hyon, leaning on his own cane and tapping it on the ground with every step. The blue stone is clearly visible.

"Where are the Amanastrian laces?" one of Vega's men muttered.

Next to the master was someone much taller than him: a Zalesian from what his skin tone suggested, with one eye completely white and an unsavory face. He showed the Duke's crest tattooed on his forearm and joined the Kharzanians. "Captain Vega... Captain Vega," he said with a powerful voice. With one hand, he shook the man holding Aran like a twig. "You've already met my guests!"

Nelson Vega threw his cigarette to the ground and ordered his men to step back.

Kallup pointed to the cigarette butt. "Kindly... pick it up." He looked at the captain. "We care about the cleanliness of the streets, and it seems to me that they've been stained enough today."

Vega forced a smile. "Oh... maybe you misunderstood. We were just talking." He approached Cora and reached out to stroke his hair, but the boy pushed his hand away.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled.

Meanwhile, Hyon took Aran and laid him at the entrance of a nearby house.

"Kallup Yazzan, the 'Ebony Rooster'," Vega muttered. "It's been a long time since our last encounter... I hope there's no resentment between us. Even in Edel, they know his name now. But I never understood what that great man, the Duke, was thinking when he chose a Zalesian as his trusted Commander." He turned to leave, but gave one last look at Cora. "As for you, tell your friends we'll meet soon."

When all three pursuers had disappeared, Cora started to breathe normally again. Kallup picked up Aran from the ground and loaded him onto his shoulder.

"Why did you let them go?" Cora asked.

"It was for the best," the master explained. "We need to be cautious, and facing the Kharzanians without protection is not that. "

Cora watched Kallup. He had a sturdy square jaw, a pointed nose, and a crest of hair that fluttered like a shoe brush. Two large gold rings shone at his earlobes. "Thank you, sir," he said. "You saved our lives."

He reciprocated, winking with his good eye.

"Cora! Aran!" Elidana shouted from the end of the street. She was with Camiel, and they both ran towards them. The warrior slowed down as soon as he saw Hyon, while the girl dived into Cora. "Are you okay? Where are those men?" she asked.

"They're gone," he replied.

Kallup widened his smile, reached Camiel, and hugged him. "Never once do you come to Amanastre without causing trouble, huh?"

Camiel took a deep breath and looked at the master.

Hyon shook his head. "At least for now, we don't have to worry. Let's go to the others. We'll talk once we get home."

Aran woke up after about ten minutes. He opened his eyes, sat up in a chair, and stretched his back. Marmorel hurried to give him a glass of water. She hadn't left his side the entire time he was unconscious.

Camiel and Kallup were talking to each other, and when the latter noticed that Aran had regained consciousness, he gestured to him.

"For a week now, small Kharzanian teams have been arriving from both the north and the sea," said Kallup. "There are two military ships docked at the port, and their activity has intensified in recent days. They've been wandering around Amanastre seeking information from the streets, merchants, and citizens. But fortunately, they can't do anything else."

Aran rubbed his neck with his hand. "But now they've recognized us, and it will be impossible to escape them. They know who we are and where we are."

"I don't think they'll give up easily. Captain Vega is the biggest problem," Kallup touched his stomach and grimaced, looked at each of the boys and returned to Camiel. "He's a degenerate maniac who has risen to the top of the Seorite Special Recovery Section because of his brutality. He remains on a leash only thanks to the laws of Amanastre." He ruffled his crest. "If he sets his eyes on something, he won't stop until he gets it, at any cost... without compromise." Marmorel covered her mouth. "You have to find a way to disappear as far away as possible," Kallup continued as he filled a glass with liquor.

"Vega?" Camiel asked. The Amanastrian commander nodded.

Fez watched Kallup, studying him from head to toe as if he had never seen anyone else of his kind in his life.

"W-Who are you?" the young man stammered.

Kallup reached out his hand. "My name is Kallup Yazzan, and you?"

"Fez, Fez Shadid."

"I suppose you're not from Zalesia."

"No, I grew up in Lud," he replied, holding the bolt in his hand.

"I also came to Amanastre when I was little. His Majesty Duke Valiante was like a father to me."

"You know, Fez, Kallup is one of the commanders of Amanastre... and pilots one of the seven Goliaths," Hyon said.

Fez remained silent, staring at him.

Kallup Yazzan sat down and finished his drink. "Let's get to the reason why I'm here," he said, turning to Camiel, his fingers tapping on the table. "The Duke asked me to find you, and the only place I knew you would be hiding is Master Hyon's house."

"They recognized me?" the Hozman asked anxiously, and Kallup nodded.

"Yes. Meliro's men saw you in front of the Ducal Palace this morning."

"What exactly did the Duke ask you?" Hyon asked.

"Just a meeting. But he didn't inform me of the topic," Kallup replied.

"I'll try to find a solution," Camiel said, scratching his chin.

"This place won't be safe for long, and I'm afraid the Duke might give in to the pressure from Edel's government. I just bought us some time," Kallup stood up and bid farewell with a wave of his hand. "I'll come tomorrow to escort you to the audience. I'll also ask to attend myself."

Camiel nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Before dinner, the five young people washed themselves outside and sat down at the table still dripping wet.

Not even the hot bath was able to wash away the tension from the afternoon. Cora barely tasted the food and abandoned almost everything on his plate after playing with it. He let every attempt at conversation pass and barely raised his head when spoken to. He wanted to spill the beans about the story of the tree and the Seorite, the metal plate, Ethan, and the Kharzanian citizenship. But the thought of how difficult it would be to bring up the topic silenced him every time. The idea of being associated with those murderers became a lump in his throat that prevented him from breathing.

When everyone started yawning too often, Camiel escorted them upstairs, where he had prepared five beds made of curtains and rugs. Cora, like every night, gave the pebble to Elidana and slipped into that improvised bed, but compared to the hard ground of a cave or a tree branch, it almost felt like home.