Medith’s brow lifted like a drawn bow. “Another poor soul gutted by betrayal.” The memory of Paris rose like a shadowed mirror.

But the two were worlds apart. Yoru Ame moved under hatred like a puppet on a thorn. Cut the root, and the blade loses its target.

Paris was different, hard as iron under noon sun. His aim started at the ceiling, like arrows loosed at stars. Leave him be, and the continent would blaze like dry grass.

“I won’t ask why you live, or why you chase revenge.” Her tone lay calm, like still water at dusk. “For now, our aims must match.

“Your vengeance might wait. Right now, you must melt into us and work for me. Can you do that?” Medith extended her right hand like a bridge over a river.

Fangge paused a beat, doubt fluttering like a moth. Then steel settled in her gaze like frost. “A ninja never breaks faith.”

“Good. Then welcome to our Dusk Legion.” Medith’s smile opened like spring sunlight, joy rising like warm steam.

The others wore confusion and caution like cloaks, yet they still offered their right hands like open branches...

“Medith, is this really wise?” Sais’s worry blew like a cold draft. “She’s strong, sure, but she’ll use any means to reach her ends.

“She left Gill for us today; tomorrow she could leave us for someone else. What if that someone is Paris or the Southern Kingdom?”

Milia tapped the tabletop like a slow drum, thoughts knitting like clouds. “I don’t think so. If that were her, she’d have gone to Paris or the Southerners first.

“Or she could’ve betrayed us in the Bloodhand Gang battle, clean as a knife in the back. She didn’t. That proves little, but it sketches her mind.

“At least we can say her trust in Paris and the Southern Kingdom is near zero, like a dried well. In her book, they’re the same kind.

“She weighed gains and losses like stones in a scale, and in the end, chose Medith.”

Iling’s eyes lit like a dawn break. Yunita’s look turned starry with admiration. The Lina Sisters ignored the lesson, teasing Nameless like cats with yarn.

“Her strength is beyond doubt, and so is her hatred,” Medith said, firm as a gavel. “She needs shelter like a roof in rain; we need strength like fire in winter. That’s enough.

“Since she’s joined us, treat her the same as anyone.” The meeting ended with a single knock, and heads nodded like reeds in wind. As for Fangge’s loyalty, only time would lay that track...

8.21, Medith and company rested a bit, then set out again like geese on the wing. They packed warhorses and grain, neat as stacked bricks.

Fangge put her ghost-mask back on, and wrapped her graceful curves in thick cloth like fog around a moonlit tower. No one said much; talk on the road drifted like leaves on wind.

Fangge felt oddly at ease, like armor finally unbuckled. In her eyes, besides Medith, the rest weren’t worth courting anyway.

[Sanctuary of Freedom]

Time: 8.15, morning, eight o’clock, like a bell striking.

“Miss, what’s with your flags?” A man around thirty asked, handsome and steady like a carved statue. “Is this the domain of the famed Ironblood War Deity, Medith Waheit?”

The bar girl blinked in mild surprise, lashes fluttering like moth wings. His clothes were plain, but his aura pressed like a blade beneath cloth. With a worldly glance, she knew he was no small fish.

“Yes, my lord, though saying Lady Medith rules us isn’t quite right. Strictly speaking, we’re allies, like two boats rowing the same river.”

“Oh—oh...” The man let out a flavored note, slow as honey. “Is she in town?” His smile carried charm like warm wine.

Her cheeks flushed like peach petals, and she told all she knew. “No, my lord. I heard she went north, searching for stones. She’s obsessed with stones.”

“I see. Thanks.” The man stood with smooth grace, set down two gold coins like twin suns, bowed like a reed, and turned away.

“My lord, that’s too much... ah—he’s gone...” She tucked the coins away, satisfied as a cat with cream, a windfall falling like pie from the sky.

Only, she didn’t know. The man’s stride swung wide like a wolf’s lope, and his smile curved dark and wicked like a crescent knife...