“O’Neil?! What happened? Where’s my brother?!” Gill led the senior staff to the gate and caught O’Neil, drenched in blood.

O’Neil’s throat was dust-dry, his face shaken. He gulped down a jug of water before he could speak.

“Your Highness, when we passed Misty Gorge, we ran into sprites from the Dusk Legion. We thought they were here to escort us. We chatted, laughed.

Then their smiles cracked—blades came out.

They went berserk, hacking at us, shouting, ‘Damn scum, how many girls did you ruin? We’re carrying out heaven’s will,’ and other curses.

We had to fight back, but… their strikes were winter knives. Several were monsters, called themselves headquarters’ Heavenwalkers, sworn to punish the lawless.

They were too strong. Someone loosed hidden arrows from deep in the trees. I couldn’t hold them off.

Those sprites were ruthless—like Medith—eyes to the sky, everyone else beneath them.

They went mad and chopped the iron bridge, cut our retreat, then set the world on fire.

I got knocked off a cliff in the melee. I triggered Magic Breaker, clawed up, and lived by luck.

Then I ran like hell back here.

And the deacon, he—” O’Neil broke down, sobbing hard, guilt flooding his face.

“Shh—” Gill’s eyes burned red. His nails bit into his palm without him knowing. His body shook; his face went cold and flat.

“Cecilia! Jade!

Hold Medith and her people! Not a single one leaves before we return!

O’Neil! Take me to the site!” Gill smashed his fist into the gate. The steel door caved with a deep knuckle-shaped dent.

It all moved too fast. Cecilia hadn’t finished tasting O’Neil’s words before Gill led hundreds of elites. Haywood and Eddie seized O’Neil and rushed for the city gate.

“This… impossible… how could Medith’s people do that?” Cecilia’s face was full of doubt. She’d spent days around Medith and the women.

They weren’t so different from her—kindred spirits, even. That hidden side of Medith had shocked her.

“Never judge by looks. I don’t buy she did it, but can you guarantee her crew didn’t?

You know this—more people, more trouble to manage. She’s not even at HQ,” Jade said, voice steady, like he’d expected it.

“No. I’m going to them. This can’t be that simple.” Still, Cecilia brought hundreds from Iron Lotus and went with Jade to Medith’s sub-guild.

“Cecilia! What’s that supposed to mean?” Medith and her girls felt hostile eyes closing in. Their hands tightened on their weapons, ready to break storm.

Jade’s pale, long fingers locked around two katana. He respected Medith a bit.

Even ambushed like this, she cut off the reflexive “What happened? What do you want?” thought.

She jumped straight to, “I don’t care what you want—touch me and die.” Cruel and cold, but the best defense.

“Medith, you… you’re suspected of murdering our guild’s young master, and Chief Deacon Herbert. Until we know what’s true, don’t act rashly or try to leave.

Or bear the consequences,” Cecilia said, unwilling. She liked Medith, but she was Kuso Guild and a top officer.

This was the time to do her job.

“No way! Commander isn’t like that!” Peggy cried, hurt.

Sais arched her willow brows, face burning with anger. “What do you mean?! Medith, suspected of killing Herbert?

What kind of joke is that? Are you brain-dead?”

“You what, you shrew! Our Lion-Tiger Squad leader O’Neil told us himself!

He was covered in blood. The rest were gone. Besides you, who hates us this much?” growled a man in black-red cloth, a lion-bodied tiger-headed crest on his chest.

“Don’t you have enemies everywhere? You strong-arm small guilds with those thug contracts. Oh, now someone hits back and you pin it on us?

He says it’s us, so it’s us? Where’s your proof?” Rita snapped, silver teeth almost cracking. She’d thought Kuso Guild wasn’t that bad.

“What proof? Herbert provoked you just days ago. You said anyone who lusted after you would die! Didn’t you say that?!” another Kuso member shouted.

His words fell like a boulder. The crowd boiled over, a cacophony of voices. Tales of Medith’s legend rose like smoke.

“I never said that. Stop chasing rumors. I act in the open. In this life, I hate backstabbing most,” Medith said. Her slender right hand had gripped the Blood Drinking Sword, ready to sing free.

“Medith…” Cecilia’s gaze turned strange; a cold drop slid down her cheek. “I know you wouldn’t… but could your people have? I mean the Freehold HQ crowd…”

“Impossible! We screen everyone. Iling and Nora are there. How would that happen?” Lina yanked her bow free.

Members of the Crimson Sunset Guild sparked blades too, itching to move. Joined only days ago, they’d run straight into this. Their hearts were mixed grain.

“What—gonna bite first like a mad dog?!”

“Shrew! What’s with the bow?!”

“Lina! Put the bow down!” Medith barked. Lina hesitated, then bit down and lowered it, unwilling.

“Realms can shift; nature rarely does. The Commander’s arrogant by habit, doesn’t even spare the Southern Kingdom a glance. Her people jump higher. Would a ‘little guild’ matter?”

“Right. Commander’s brave and awe-inspiring, unmatched on the continent. Killing a minor deacon would be child’s play.”

“Enough! Are you done yelling? We still don’t know the truth!” Cecilia shouted.

Her sway still held. The hall fell quiet at once.

But Sais was grinding her teeth, ready to blow. Right then, someone said, “Heard the Grand Commander’s a lily. That day, a red-haired woman provoked the deacon.

Maybe he was too handsome. A certain redhead got jealous and killed him?”

Every woman heard it. Faces turned fierce. Even Peggy showed rare emotion, a flicker of anger. Medith’s eyes cooled. Sais went off like a fuse.

Her fury twisted her lovely features. “That lecher? I should’ve carved him up then! Would’ve saved us this mess!”

In a blink, the packed hall went dead still—not even a sparrow dared chirp.

Then the Kuso Guild erupted in a roar like mountains collapsing and seas overturning. “It’s her! She admitted it!”

“You killed the deacon, didn’t you?! With O’Neil leading, how could anyone weaker do it?!”

“Kill her!”

“Kill her!!”

“Kill her—”