He watched the road below through the window. The patrols of the Kharzanians had been patrolling that stretch for hours now: until they left, he was stuck there. "Three days... damn! Three days and I haven't been able to find anything," he hissed. He brought the chair closer to the windowsill and pushed the chamber pot aside.

With the soldiers free to roam around Lud, he couldn't use his abilities: they would identify him in a few moments. The energy source was important, of course, but dead, he wouldn't be able to search for anything. And if the Kharzanians spotted an Hozman, there was no guarantee he would make it out on his own two feet.

It was already late morning and as soon as the alley was clear of the soldiers' shadows, he took the long luggage wrapped in hides and put it on his back. He stepped in front of the mirror hanging on the door and put on a cap that left his almond-shaped eyes in the shadows and hid his long, raven hair; he wouldn't pass a close examination, but at least his origins wouldn't be in plain sight at first glance. He touched the silver ring on his finger, barely touched the symbol of the carved sunset, and with the small piece of Seorite set in the center.

He relaxed his shoulders and took a deep breath, cautiously descended the stairs that ended in the main room of the inn. There were no customers among the tables and the floor had just been swept.

"Good morning, Mr. Camiel! I hope you slept well!" the innkeeper exclaimed. That day, the owner of the inn seemed to have an even more swollen belly or perhaps it was just his impression; the head, however, always had the same irregular surface due to the holes. He was cleaning the surface of the dark wooden countertop with grooves. Even from that distance, his breath smelled like an ashtray. "Would you like some eggs for breakfast?" he asked, offering him a holster filled with yellowish sludge.

"Thanks, but I'd rather not." Camiel looked at the plate, as inviting as a punch in the teeth, and looked back at the innkeeper's red face. "Rather, do you have any news?"

The innkeeper stood staring at the entrance for a few seconds, paused his duties, and walked briskly across the room. He closed the door with a snap and leaned against it.

"Shhh, there are Kharzanians everywhere!" he said, looking out the window. "I'm sorry, I haven't heard anyone mention Seorite deposits," he replied in a lowered voice.

"I paid for information and you gladly accepted my gold coins," Camiel insisted, this time he was serious.

"Well, with the Great Jalme in those conditions ... that's all people talk about." The innkeeper wiped his damp hands on his apron and looked uncomfortable.

"What is this Jalme?" Up until that moment he was aware of only one truth: he had sensed a huge amount of Seorite in the region and it must be there, somewhere. The impulse had been too strong to go unnoticed and the presence of an entire foreign detachment in the city was further confirmation of his thesis. He couldn't waste any more time.

"You can tell immediately that you're a stranger," the man snapped. "It's the Lud tree: the Great Jalme with red leaves," he said with amazement, "Never heard of it?"

"Just some stories, but I never looked into it."

"Our greatest pride, nature that never loses." The innkeeper gestured with his hands. "Just yesterday one of our regular customers showed me a dry leaf. Dry, you understand? It was on the ground and there were others!"

"Well! Are you worried that a tree loses its leaves? Sure, it's summer, but I don't think it's that important."

The innkeeper shook his head and sighed. "From our experience and what our fathers have written, it has never happened. It must be a sign of pestilence and misfortune." His voice was dark.

Camiel rubbed his chin, this story reminded him of something. "I know of another tree that doesn't lose its leaves, but it's far away, very far from these lands. How long has your Jalme been in these conditions?"

Something, in the man's words, intrigued his instincts. During his journey through the Oath Valley, he had been awakened in the middle of the night by a massive amount of Seorite, only emitted for a few moments; then nothing. He was wandering in the dark on his hunting mission and decided to leave no stone unturned. "I think I'll go take a look. Where is it?"

"Past the west gate. You can't miss it, it's on the hill overlooking the path," the man explained. He sighed and ended with a sharp cough.

"I'll be here before evening. I have another hundred gold coins for you, but only if you can find information about the Seorite." Camiel followed him and the man opened the door for him.

"Well, have a good day and good luck with your search." The innkeeper closed himself in, immersed in the shadows, and after checking the road, he gave the key two turns.

Camiel slipped through the market crowd and took a bumby road, avoiding a smelly puddle on the right side, but almost stepped into another one not far away. He shook his head and held his breath until he reached the clock square. He took a deep breath: not that much had changed. He quickened his pace, slipped into the main street and reached the west gate.

There, some residents of Lud were engaged in a strange pilgrimage on the path outside the walls. Everyone had flowers in tow: he walked past them quickly.

To the right, a completely bare, giant tree stood. The red leaves lay on the ground, filling the surrounding ground like a carpet of blood. The naked tree seemed like a newborn baby to him. An old lady had difficulty climbing the path through the weeds. Camiel took the heavy basket from her hands and offered her his arm for support.

At the top of the hill, many residents were placing flower wreaths and small crafted creations at the base of the skeletal tree. He was sure, as were others present in that place: that oak was dead.

Nobody spoke, but everyone kept their gaze lowered, enclosed in their own prayers. Camiel witnessed a true memorial and didn't have the courage to break the silence.

He decided to approach the trunk to touch its dry, leathery bark. He caressed it and realized that it would be enough to pull it off to get a good portion. He walked around it, avoiding the roots and the various gifts stacked up.

"It has been deprived of its vital energy," he whispered with a curious expression. He looked around the surrounding area to find a clue, but to his surprise, the ground was healthy and the grass grew naturally among the fallen leaves. The tree's death had been a simple coincidence.

"A dead end," he whispered. "The Kharzanians didn't reduce it to this state."

He looked up, towards the furthest branches, nothing was left alive attached to them. Disappointed, he saluted the tree with reverence and left the hill to return inside the walls of Lud. Camiel had avoided Edel's soldier patrols during the past days, but now he thought it was time to find out what they knew. He mixed in with the merchants, until he identified three men in green uniforms. After speaking with the Lamia knights, they took a secondary route, and Camiel followed them.

During the walk, he listened as they complained about a hive, they seemed bitter about not being able to attend a certain event because of their mission. Camiel continued to follow them when they explored the southern neighborhoods of the city and continued along the road that would take them to the east exit of Lud. He approached as closely as he could with great caution, but the three spoke little and said nothing useful.

Just after sunset, the Kharzanians left the city's perimeter and tread the path northward. Camiel kept himself at safe distance and always with a good cover among the trees. He advanced into the woods to surpass them and continued until the path began to curve. He made a quick leap, grabbed a branch, and rode on it. In no time, the three soldiers passed under him, turning onto the long tree-lined route.

They arrived near a sumptuous house, lit by a dozen lanterns scattered throughout the garden. Camiel heard the screeching of outdated Cec systems joining the noises from the nearby forest.

One of the soldiers spoke with the caretaker inside the guardhouse. The man began to sweat and left his post to enter the house. He returned shortly, accompanied by a middle-aged, well-dressed gentleman, with white hairs and a well-groomed beard. He held a walking stick in his hand.

Camiel approached the edge of the wall of trees that concealed him and moved his luggage behind his back to prevent it from swaying.

"I suppose you are Ludvig Allet?" the soldier leading the group asked shrilly. He took a few steps towards the homeowner. Camiel had closely observed this soldier throughout the afternoon. Expressionless eyes and a face as pale as milk; he looked like a wax mask.

"Yes, that's me!" Mr. Allet exclaimed. He furrowed his brow.

"What does the great Kharzanian nation want from me?" He arched an eyebrow. "And I would have preferred to speak with one of your ambassadors, rather than with ordinary soldiers just sent to my home!" He spoke loudly, with a proud and challenging attitude. He combed his hair back and placed both hands on the stick, planting it in front of him. "You haven't even had the decency to introduce yourself," he said impassively.

"Excuse my manners," the soldier said. "Captain Nelson Vega, Special Recovery Section Seorite," he spoke gracefully.

"I would like to have a word with you, if you don't mind."

"Yes, I do mind, Captain!" Ludvig boomed. The stick trembled under his grip.

Vega made a grimace and slightly tilted his head. "It seems quite rude not to give me the chance to explain. However, I am not here of my own free will, but I received an order from my superiors to have a chat with you."

"Tell me what they told you to report. The sooner we finish, the better for everyone."

"I wanted to ask if you are aware of a Seorite shipment detected in Lud last week."

Mr. Allet erupted in front of the soldiers. "You have a whole platoon in town and you come to me to ask if there are stones in this area? Didn't you do some research years ago? There are no deposits to the east of the Oath Valley."

"Perhaps you didn't understand correctly," Vega interrupted, "I did not say deposits. The detection team identified a large load about six days ago... right here in Lud." He pronounced the words carefully. "We have asked for information from the Senate, but it is not in any transit records in Clodia," he concluded.

"And you came to see for yourself? When will you stop? Do you think you can dictate the law as if the Republic of Lamia is your backyard. Damn it! We are a sovereign and free nation, get it through your heads!" Ludvig raised his voice, red in the face with anger. The custodian, behind him, twisted the cap in his hands.

Captain Vega carefully adjusted his cuff. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "There's no need to get upset. No one is questioning your country's collaboration." He looked at him again. "However... there are international agreements signed by both parties. We can say that we are fully authorized to manage Seorite trade within the boundaries of your country." Vega made a quick cloud of smoke.

"We know nothing about it, I told you! We have other things to think about at the moment. Should I also answer to your accusations? A bit of respect!" growled Ludvig Allet.

Vega narrowed his eyes and massaged his temples. "Ah, right. The Great Jalme. Yes, we checked," he said indifferently. "But let's stay on topic, please. We came to talk to you because we know your past and your dealings... an endless list of contacts with the free city of Amanastre and a certain tendency to attract in the ports of the Empire of Hozma."

"If you know so much about me, I don't think you missed the main detail! I stopped doing business with both a long time ago!"

"Mhmm... that would be... how can I say... well, unfortunate! Very unfortunate if your name came up in a more thorough check," said Vega with a biting voice. "The assumptions that some isolated individuals want to arm Hozma, however, continue to bounce around the rooms of our government."

"Are you kidding? Yours are just speculations!" Ludvig breathed heavily, slammed his cane on the ground several times. "I have old documents at home that confirm my words and you can consult them at any time. Just bring with you a signed authorization from the Senate." He took care to emphasize the last part.

Vega cracked a smile and stubbed out his cigarette with the tip of his shoe. "Mr. Ludvig Allet, it was a pleasure to meet you. I would say... almost educational. I'll communicate the outcome of our little meeting to my superiors." The Captain offered him his hand, but Ludvig only replied with an expression of annoyance. "Are we done?" "Given the circumstances, I think we are," replied Nelson Vega. He walked through his men, who had remained still as statues throughout the entire discussion. "Oh, I almost forgot!" Vega said, turning one last time. "I wish you a good evening."

Ludvig grinded his teeth and went back into the house with the caretaker. His curses were heard even after the entrance was closed.

Camiel remained hidden for a while longer. What he had seen was truly curious. What had driven a Captain of Edel to meet that man?

He smiled. He had not obtained the information he was looking for, but now he had a small certainty: the Kharzanians did not yet know where the Seorite was and the owner of the villa had connections with the Empire and Amanastre. A mosaic of information was taking shape in his mind. He had to find out who Mr. Allet was. He would be a valuable resource.