415,
A carriage was waiting outside, not one for transporting goods, but for carrying passengers.
From Alice's adept strides, it was clear that this carriage's appearance was no coincidence.
Before stepping into the carriage, the master turned back to look at Yuna.
"Will you find your way back?"
"My wife will be with me," Cyclone instinctively replied.
"Not really, dummy. I'm not sending her back. We'll be heading to a distant place later, so depending on the situation, will you join us in the carriage or fly above the roof?"
After a moment of thought, Yuna addressed Cyclone.
"I'll observe the terrain from the sky..."
She wanted to follow Cyclone, yet struggled to choose between that and finding her way back home.
"No problem, the master isn't a cannibal or anything."
"Hey, I heard that!"
Yuna looked at the master.
"Tsk! I'm not a cannibal... but even if it's Yuna-sama's man, at crucial times, I'll prioritize self-preservation..."
Having spoken to Yuna, the master then looked at Cyclone.
"And you? Protect yourself."
"..."
Yuna hadn't introduced herself, but when the master could call her by name, Cyclone remembered that this man had also been a member of the demons in the past.
The coachman was the master's wife, flying high above.
Inside the carriage, it was just Cyclone and the master, sitting facing each other.
Silence filled the air between them at the beginning of the journey.
It wasn't until they made a turn that the master broke the silence.
"How many surgeries have you performed?"
"...Two."
"What about your medical skills?"
..."
Cyclone pondered for a moment.
"Zero."
"Well, at least you were honest about that."
The master smiled and pulled back the curtain of the carriage.
"You should know by now who our guests are."
"The followers of the Water Sect... heretics?"
"That's one way to put it. I prefer to call them 'naive fools.'"
Outside, even as night fell, the Night Dragon Festival continued to draw countless crowds to the streets.
For some time afterwards, the master remained silent until they arrived at a certain location.
"Get off here."
Cyclone glanced out the window.
"Somewhere crowded? Yeah, the more dangerous the place, the safer it is, right?"
"Huh? If those fools understood that, we wouldn't have to deal with them."
Realizing he had guessed wrong, Cyclone obeyed and got off the carriage.
It was the central area of the night market, with various street vendors lining the roads and different bars and underground establishments nearby.
However, where Cyclone disembarked, there was a small stall in front of him.
"Choose one."
The master stayed in the carriage, only instructing Cyclone through the small window of the carriage.
Among the various masks on the small stall were cute animals, terrifying monsters, and some designed specifically for masquerade balls.
Mask after mask was neatly arranged.
"Pick one. Consider it a gift as my disciple..."
With a hint of hesitation in his words, just as Cyclone suspected, these masks must carry a different meaning.
"Hand me the mask... what's the purpose?" Cyclone hit the nail on the head, prompting the master to let out a chuckle.
"Have you forgotten? We no longer have names." Cyclone gazed at his master inside the car through the window, the pitch-black figure resembling a demon.
"Even if you are to save those naïve fools next, they will always... Tsk! Why do I have to explain so much? I am your master, pick one, just pick one!"
"...Alright then."
Shaking his head, Cyclone turned around, meticulously examining all the masks. Even though the master did not elaborate further, Cyclone could still grasp the meaning behind it all. Whether it was the people to be saved, or even the enemies who harm them, the side of justice. They too must conceal their true identities; that is the significance of these masks. In the moment of forsaking their names, even their appearances must be erased.
Cyclone revealed a smile and picked up a mask. "Oh?! Is this your choice?"
"Yes."
By concealing his face, Cyclone selected one he fancied, a funny mask.
