Looking up, the branches themselves resembled the steps Elton created when moving down the various holes in the caverns, signalling for everyone else to tread his path. Vines turned into ropes he carried in his backpack, which he wrapped around cloths, neatly bandaging a wound when Ambrosia wasn't around.

The grass turned into rocks, but such wasn't grey. It was the colour of the same blood which fell right down onto the ground with Isak's brutal attack.

It still seemed that he was the only one carrying for Elton's burial. With a dry leaf falling onto his nose and then quickly onto the ground, a calm wind embraced his body.

Hours passed, after all, and looking up amongst the sea of things that weren't there, he spotted the stars busily occupying the warm night sky, contrasted by the chilly gusts.

Back during Gorro, Atomu's father created, what he called the anti-blanket. Essentially, it was only two sheets sewn together with a thin needle, stuffed with cold things once found underground, later bought in Medullian pawn shops. After all, the shining sun never managed to sneak into the darkest places.

Atomu stepped out of the forest, feeling the warm breeze instead. Tents were filled with residents, lights shone inside and silhouettes moved about, with a few people following a different crowd, slowly but surely making their way towards Agroste.

Atomu didn't follow them. Running wasn't the solution anymore. Instead, he questioned. Where were the things that ignited this fire, to begin with?

While Atomu searched for Ranpa, he seldom glanced at the people, who followed a stepped-out path, with someone in the front.

His name, widely declared and heard all around was Rufus. He stood at an impressive height, with a burly stature and a reassuring smile.

"For tonight, we dine in honour, my friends." he raised a fist, with loud applause following his announcements.

It seemed that, through disagreement and sorrows, rational people, instead vowed to take a different approach to this ordeal. Generally, Rowan never appreciated those loudly demanding their ideas to be accepted. Yet, they couldn't help but peek out here and there, watching as the march passed through Agroste and further towards open fields.

Hesitantly, they stood up, following from a distance, almost as if pretending that they weren't exactly amused.

More and more people eventually joined, with their collective frowns slowly turning into conversations regarding the topic. Small talk about who Bancho was and what he meant to them in the first place and alike. Rowan thought of it to be quite strange, but yet again, excused their actions to the simple Paladian mind, which they seemed to humour more and more with the passing days.

The strut led somewhere, but its leader made sure to collect as many people in the first place. Some, obviously refused, staying inside or even spouting a few curse words indirectly at either Rufus or Ranpa, tending to sheep and whatnot (probably Kaupier relatives). The others, while hesitant at first, silently agreed to join in the honour.

Moving towards the Colliyus district, Chyuuichi stuck his head out of a small cave, hearing Rufus' shouts. "For his honour."

Again, even if he was the initiator, he also backed down on his vows, instead resolving to whatever Mirillian activities he had in those excuses of underground holes. Carefully, he stepped out, observing from afar but unknowingly joining in.

There was a certain charm to that Rufus guy, one would deem. After all, Rowan and Chyuuichi had no way of knowing who he was in the first place, and those who still had doubts about moving along didn't attend the various parties in the massive tent of Medulla.

Rufus, to thousands of Mirillians, was what Ella was to Magnanians. Simply put a reliable and well-known face. It was often that Rufus handed out the best mix of beer with tree sap or juices that would blow you out of your boots.

Whatever Rufus had in mind, was surely something trustworthy. You could call it a friendly aura, which managed to lead Rowan and Chyuuichi down an unlikely path.

The Mirillian bumped into the Tributal.

"Oh!" Chyuuichi made a single noise, pointing at the other.

"What on Errarion are you so excited for?" Rowan furrowed their eyebrows. "Yay, we found each other." they scoffed, folding their arms.

"Hehe." Chyuuichi giggled. "Seems like that running plan backfired!"

"If you could even call it a plan, in the first place." Rowan looked down before his gaze once again landed on Rufus. "What is all of this, Chyuuichi?"

"No clue." Chyuuichi quickly replied, taking a few steps forward. "Shall we follow them?"

"Act cool, though," Rowan muttered. "We're still not necessarily welcome."

"I'm always cool," Chyuuichi announced.

And as the Mirillian suggested, Rowan now formally moved along with the Paladians, still far enough so they wouldn't give them strange glances. Meanwhile, Chyuuichi tried leaping into the crowd, only stopped by Rowan's iron grip.

A Mirillian and a Tributal in a place like this already brought enough suspicions, but if Chyuuichi were to mention something about Demonears things would surely go rampant. It was a silent agreement between the two that they weren't to speak about themselves, even when asked.

***

Rufus' march stopped on an empty field surrounded by walls of tall grass, and he took a few steps towards big logs surrounded by multiple stones. Turning around, he faced at least two hundred Paladians, with the two hiding between the crowds. Rowan and Chyuuichi squinted their eyes, with the former even jumping up to see what was happening.

Rufus, with a loud sigh and a smile strangely tugging on his lips, now faced the unlit fireplace once more. He took out a matchbox from his pocket, one that looked tiny in his large, hairy hands. He reached inside and soon lit up one stick, peering at its embers for a few seconds.

...and as fast as the fire appeared, it grew exponentially larger, with the Paladian throwing the stick between the logs, creating an almost insufferable amount of heat.

Silence suddenly ensued, of course, sparing the few cracks and smouldering coals hidden in the massive flames. It lit up the surrounding area, only stopped by various cut logs on the ground, giving the already red grass a meaner look.

A look, which didn't match Rufus' rather joyous expression. His smile brought a few more to the Paladians who earlier frowned. So did Chyuuichi, but Rowan only crossed their arms.

"This reminds me of a story, my friends," he uttered. "I think I told it to a few familiar faces around here," Rufus stated, pointing around. "Once, Bancho himself came to the big tent in Medulla. I offered him a special mix, an offer that wasn't on my menu. Yet, the man demanded that after my shift was over, we were to compete for a small prize. If the Morian won, he'd get one of my secret recipes written on paper to take back home." he explained.

"It was a very simple demand, yet so handsome in a way." he breathed in the smouldering air. Most would cough, but Rufus was tougher than that. "He challenged me to a battle. Who'd sip on the most beer before collapsing on the floor?" a few laughed. "Turns out, the old man was much stronger than what his frail features might've entailed! Old bastard won, damn it!"

Rufus raised a fist, his eyes widening. He licked his lips for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "As the owner, I simply couldn't let that go by. Next time he came to Prope Portam the Morian already knew what awaited him, and then he won again!" a few chuckles were heard, some even breaking into laughter. "They don't even have alcohol in Mistwick!"

Rowan eyed Chyuuichi who spotted a soft smile.

"But I never won, and that's okay." Rufus looked down. "I guess then, the man took his victory right to the grave. Something to be proud of, and something for me to remember him." he stopped for a moment.

"So, why do you cry?" he asked, stepping closer. "You, over there with the long beard?" he pointed. "You're always so cheerful at the bar, and now your face is full of worries. Shouldn't you be happy?"

"H-He's dead." the man responded, with a shaky voice.

"Not in our hearts." he walked up to the guy, putting his hand on his chest. "If they beat, they remember what Bancho meant to all of us gathered here." he strutted around, waving his fists, right as the fire grew larger, even sending sparks to the sky. "Killing the Paladian disease, drinking games at the pub, the little things. He was a friend and a damn good one at that! You didn't even have to befriend him for him to laugh around!" he explained. "That's what honour is to me. A simple thank you. Supper by the fireplace, perhaps a party in his name at the pub later on." Rufus gazed to the side for a moment.

Rowan finally smiled. "It's the simple things, after all," they muttered, turning again to Chyuuichi, who tightly held onto Saxyo in both hands. Earlier, he recalled the sight of the weapon stuffed deep into his sheath as if to bury the feelings of his passing. Now, a beam shone brighter than ever.

"For Bancho!" Rufus raised his fist.

"Yeah!" Chyuuichi reached his hand out, shouting with everyone else.

***

Following his words, most gathered around the flame, or either returned to their tents to grab supplies. At first, Rowan wanted to back out, satisfied with Rufus' speech, but Chyuuichi begged them to stay a little longer, so the two moved towards one of the logs and waited as everyone peacefully enjoyed their meals.

Some passed free food around, some played on various instruments and a few danced around the flame. Hearty laughs sounded, and stories of Bancho passed around here and there, caught by the Tributal's careful ear.

"I was working the rice fields!" A guy with a raspy voice uttered, his words broken by a bite into a lump of meat. "I struggled with doing everything by myself and I just knew a storm was coming. Bancho passed by, for whatever reason! I spotted him from the hilltops and it seemed he peered at me as well! You won't guess what happened next!"

"He helped you?" Three voices asked.

"No!" The guy replied. "He waved at me!" he raised his voice.

Rowan chuckled, fixing their smirk with a rub on their lips. Chyuuichi was, obviously, enjoying his meal.

"Want a bite?" Chyuuichi raised his voice, abruptly.

"The music isn't that loud," Rowan answered.

"...want a bite?" Chyuuichi whispered.

"The music is loud enough for me not to hear your whispers! Either way, no." Rowan shook their head. "Paladian food does doozie on my stomach."

"Hehe." Chyuuichi laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Doozie."

"It's a very intriguing word. I heard it a few times here, and I'm getting used to the customs of Prope Portam."

"If so, then try it!" Chyuuichi waved a piece in front of Rowan's disgusted face.

"Pass," Rowan replied.

"...come on..." Chyuuichi whispered.

"Pass." Rowan raised their voice, with a sudden rumble coming from their stomach. "I'm not hungry!"

The Mirillian's eyes widened. "Who are ya lying to?" he tilted his head.

Another situation caught Rowan's interest, although at first, they had trouble figuring out certain words, simply due to their hunger.

"Are you not tired?" A woman asked, looking up from a large stack of papers held in her hands, holding a thin stick with charcoal at its end. There were thousands of scribbles, as well as many words on the sheets.

"No!" Two voices simultaneously yelled out, as two children continued their dance, sometimes even bumping into other adults.

She sighed, a bit embarrassed, but vowing to stay strong. She looked down at her notes for a minute, biting their lip, before turning her head towards Chyuuichi and Rowan who indiscreetly stared at her. What unfortunate timing.

The Tributal immediately turned away, but Chyuuichi waved, met with more of the same coming from the girl, cracking a light smile. She put the stick near her mouth, thinking for a bit.

Chyuuichi swallowed the food and tried bumping shoulders with Rowan, but failed.

"Um," Chyuuichi said. "Where is Atomu?"

"You both came up with the idea to run." Rowan shook their head, sighing. "If he knows home so well he must've searched for a specific hiding spot."

"Do ya think he's safe?" Chyuuichi blinked a little. "...and um, especially concerning Elton and all that." he scratched his cheek.

"Searching, hiding, running. Burying bodies," they stated. "It's up to him, and only him," Rowan replied. "Although I wish I could-" they hesitated. "Never mind."

Chyuuichi smiled lightly. Leaning into the Tributal, he put his head on their shoulder and closed his eyes.

Rowan abruptly trembled and turned his head towards the Mirillian. They fixed their glasses with a small pout, albeit, they didn't do anything else. Chyuuichi clenched one fist, deeming a victory.

Focusing on certain words, however, Rowan heard nothing in particular. Every voice faded into a hush, and Rufus sat down, taking something out of his pocket. He brought the instrument close to his mouth, and blew air in, with a calm sound coming out of the other end.

The flame sparked playfully, but something resembling melody or childish drawings almost flew out from the thaduk, carried by the light wind and flying towards the starry night sky. Chyuuichi opened one eye, and so did Rowan.

It was peaceful.

It felt as if everyone was saying their final goodbyes without uttering a single word.

Although Rufus never won against Bancho, he told a tale that unheard by the two. One time as a recompensation for his stolen recipes, Bancho crafted an instrument and handed it to the bartender. Every week since then, Rufus has been practising its structured and careful melodies in his free time.

The sound slowly faded. The bartender stood up, overlooking the countless citizens sitting around the fire. "We can't eat supper forever," he muttered, and a few laughed. "Why don't we take this to the bar? All drinks on me!" he raised his fist, and it seemed his message sparked an even greater flame, particularly amongst the Paladians. The tired woman from earlier softly chuckled, stuffing her papers into a handbag and glimpsing at Chyuuichi. The Mirillian grinned, looking at Rowan continuously shaking their head.

"Come on!" Chyuuichi said.

"Getting flat-out drunk is the worst idea one can conjure, especially concerning our goals,"

"Blah blah blah blah blah!" Chyuuichi shouted. "We're not leaving today either way, what's the harm in some fun ya stuck-up prick?" he pointed.

"Excuse me?" Rowan moved their glasses down a bit. "I'll have you now, that-"

Chyuuichi bolted off.

"Chyuuichi?" Rowan stood up, tilting their head. They put a hand on their chin, thinking for a moment.

"What about the Holy Crown?" someone's stern voice uttered, Rowan turned in the direction of the sound, only a little curious.

They peered down, thinking for a few solid seconds, before eventually following the others at a slower pace.

"I wonder too."