“Where’s O’Neil? The bald one.” Medith’s voice was steady, like a blade under frost.

She remembered he was the one who knew. He’d been there when the coin changed hands, a witness like a lantern in fog.

“Still thinking of killing O’Neil to silence him?” Gill’s anger came cold, iron under ash. “Forget it. We escorted him to the best healer in this region. You’ll never find him.”

“This coin wasn’t Herbert accusing us!” Peggy’s words trembled, tears clinging like rain to willow leaves. “The Commander asked him to carry it back to Nora and the others…”

“Wasn’t he?” Gill snapped, like a bowstring. “Then explain this! ‘4 Dusk Elves! S!’”

He held the coin up, harsh light on sharp edges. “Isn’t that from an S‑rank Dusk Elf under your Commander?”

“Tell me—who can testify for you? That red‑haired sprite? Or your little ‘family’ circle? Huh?”

“It’s not… it’s not… This isn’t the truth… You’re framing us…” Peggy’s grievance fell like clear drops into dust.

Medith patted her fragile crown, gentle as smoothing bent reeds. “Peggy, don’t cry. Truth runs clear like spring water. Whoever set this snare, I’ll drag them from the shadows and give them their due.”

“Still putting on a martyr’s act?” Gill’s tone went flat, a calm lake hiding undertow. “There’s only one fix. I want you dead.”

“You dare?!” Sais’s Dark Blade snapped free, hungry like a wolf in dusk.

Medith’s hand pressed the keen edge, quiet as snow settling. “I accept.”

Sais’s body jolted, shock slicing cold as ice. She stared in disbelief.

“But not today.” Medith drew her greatsword, steel whispering like wind through pines. “There’s someone behind this. I won’t die for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Oh?” Gill’s calm was demonic, a shadow wearing a smile. “Since the Commander’s so certain, go investigate Misty Gorge yourself.”

“No! Don’t leave us!” Peggy lunged, arms around Medith’s willow‑slender waist, clinging like ivy to stone.

Medith stroked Peggy’s hair, helplessness soft as cloud on her face. Her gaze to Sais and the others shone hard, like tempered steel.

The women could only nod through tears, dew trembling on morning leaves.

“I’ll go. I’ll go now… But hear me—don’t try to touch my family.” Her eyes turned razor‑sharp, a hawk under a crimson sun. “Don’t. It’s been a long time since anger took my mind. I don’t suggest you test that.”

“Of course.” Gill’s answer was dust‑dry. His pale amber eyes held a will that chilled like winter riverwater.

Medith closed her eyes once, as if pinning down a choice. She tapped shoulders, a soldier’s blessing, then quietly slipped a black eye into Sais’s palm, dark as a raven bead.

Sais looked at the eye and understood, a spark kindling like fire under silk. She kissed Medith’s blossom‑red lips before everyone, fearless as moonlight.

“Heh‑heh‑heh! They’re a pair, alright!” a guild member chuckled, voice oily. “She killed Herbert out of jealousy—had to be!”

Their mouths were a swarm of flies over blood.

After a breath, the two parted, lips and teeth reluctant like tides pulling back. Sais’s eyes brimmed with trust and ache.

Medith cupped her face, offered a smile bright as dawn. Then she swung onto a white stallion and flew for the city gate, hooves drumming like thunder in dry grass.

Suddenly, wordless at Herbert’s side, Cecilia sprang up, a falcon launched. She mounted and chased Medith, wind tearing at her hair.

Sais panicked and moved to sprint, fear sharp as a knife. She worried Cecilia’s rage would blind her and cut at Medith.

But Cecilia only caught up and rode beside her, shoulder to shoulder, like two boats sliding into the same mist.

“Your Highness, Cecilia—” Haywood’s voice was heavy, a drum in fog.

“Let her go,” Gill said, lips curling with a wicked crescent. “Better she keeps eyes on Medith.” His stare lingered on the women like frost on branches, then he turned and left.

They withdrew abruptly, clean as a tide pulling back, leaving sand cold and bare.

“They left? Just like that? They’re not coming for us?” Rita’s surprise fluttered, a bird trapped in a room.

“No… they’re probably—” Sais, Lina, and Melia spoke as one, then swallowed the rest like smoke.

…

“What do we do?” Sais was out of ideas, heart beating against a closed door. She’d been thinking hard, but her mind kept slipping on wet stones.

In moments like this, she hated herself, a storm turned inward—why was she so useless she couldn’t share even a sliver of Medith’s burden?

“Maybe… we run,” Rita said softly, voice thin as rice paper. “They won’t let us go. With our skill, we can slip away.”

Medith’s first lesson had been retreat. If you can’t win, you run—strategy, not shame, like water finding another path.

Melia nodded, eyes fast as tallying beads. “Right now their force is heavy. Not to mention that unknown Guildmaster—his grunts alone hit hard.”

“They’ve got a lot of Magic Breakers among them,” she added, frowning like a stormbank. “That’s thorny.”

Peggy was still shaken, soul bruised like fruit dropped on stone. Being framed tasted bitter as burned tea.

“No.” Lina’s voice struck like a bronze bell. “We can’t.”

“How?” Sais’s eyes lit, searching for a star. Without Medith, Milia usually led—their minds were bright; failing that, Iling did. Now that she stood in their place, she felt the weight and duty like a mountain.

“That’s for normal times,” Lina said, gaze firm as a spear. “Now it’s different. If we flee, we admit we killed Herbert.”

Cold sweat pricked their backs like needles. They’d seen only the immediate blade, not the avalanche behind it.

If word spread the Dusk Legion killed over a quarrel, ties to the Eastern Nation would snap like silk under fire. The Sprite Royal Capital would stand alone like a lighthouse with its light cut. The Crimson Sunset Legion’s honor would crumble, and the whole continent would hunt them, wolves under a long winter.

Better a clean death than a lifetime drowned in ten thousand spits.

“Then… what do we do?” Sais asked, voice small, eyes on Lina like a ship on a single star.

Lina’s hair swayed, river‑soft. “Sorry… I’m not Medith. I can’t slap my forehead and conjure miracles.”

“Maybe we hold the line—faith and ground. Medith gave you that eye for this—doesn’t it say the same?”

They sighed together, a reed bed shivering under wind. Without their center, even the next step felt like a maze.

“Then there’s only one thing left,” Sais said, resolve glinting like a drawn blade. “Believe in her.”

“Mm.” The women nodded, and in their worry they drifted into sleep, like small boats rocking on a fog‑bound lake.