“No problem,” Rex answered after a heartbeat, like a pebble sinking through still water.

“Mm. Thank you,” she said, soft as a falling leaf.

The crowd swelled like a rising tide. He stole a quick look around, then said to Shelika, “If it’s convenient, come with me.”

“Okay,” she replied, voice calm as shade.

Shelika followed them into a nondescript building tucked along the market street, a shrine-like block raised quietly like a small altar.

It looked plain, like moss on stone, yet its outer walls were firm, and guards paced the door like steady metronomes.

Inside was fully equipped, corridors like veins, and even an emergency passage ran like a burrow through the bones.

No doubt, this was the knights’ workplace, a hive under iron sky.

Knights filled the building, training, doing paperwork, or eating, like gears turning in a clockwork beast.

Those passing in the hall stared at Shelika behind Rex, surprise flashing like fish scales in clear water.

Then came jealousy, then a sigh like wind in reeds, then those knowing smiles, crescent moons at dusk.

Shelika wanted to tell them it wasn’t what they thought, a cloud ready to spill rain.

She had no time, and even with time, she wouldn’t bother, like a crane ignoring sparrows.

She reached the third floor, to the corridor’s far heart, into a stately room that breathed like a broad river.

Rex dismissed his squad, then told Shelika to wait on the sofa by the door, a quiet rock under an eave.

He hurried through paperwork at his desk, pen scratching like a cricket, before he came to her.

“Monsters cluster around the Holy City,” Rex said, voice steady as a blade. He pulled a map from the shelf, spread it on the polished low table, and pointed.

Shelika leaned in. The mark lay in a forest just outside the Holy City, close as a hill beyond the gate.

Rex was serious no matter the weather, like a lantern in fog, so he kept going.

He sat beside her, pointed to the forest, and spoke in that cool, careful tone. “Sixty years ago a road cut through here, but when miasma tainted it into a monster haunt, the road closed.”

“You know it so well,” Shelika said, eyes widening like a ripple widening on a lake.

Rex paused, then continued, steady as rain. “It was a shortcut to the capital and the eastern ports. Even after closure, merchants risked it for speed—”

“Thirty years ago, before I went to war, I took missions here often,” he added, voice like old iron.

“And now?” she asked, the question a feather on a scale.

“You mean now…,” he murmured. He sat opposite, closed his eyes, and pleaded softly, like a monk before an altar. “You know I mainly work with the Hymn Guard. As for details… I’m sorry, I can’t tell you, even you.”

She gently shook her head, a willow in light wind. “No, I meant the phantom beast.”

Rex blinked, realization snapping like flint. “Oh! The phantom beast. Wait.”

He rose from the chair, crossed to the shelf, and took down a thick book, ornate but worn like a prayer book thumbed daily.

He set it on the low table, flipped quickly, halted, then turned the book so she could see, like opening a window to the north.

Maybe talk felt clumsy to him, so he showed her the bestiary. Shelika scanned it, eyes skimming like swallows. “Galia Lionwolf. A social phantom beast… individuals vary, with leaders usually A-class threat or higher… can cast mirage arts and frost miasma…”

She looked up. “So the one spotted in the forest lately is this Lionwolf?”

Rex shook his head, the answer clean as a bell. “Not sure.”

“But a week ago, a caravan was wiped out by monsters,” he said, closing the book like a lid on a box. “According to a surviving traveler, the closest match was this Lionwolf.”

“Given the Galia Lionwolf’s habits,” he added as he put the book away, “they linger long in their hunting grounds. They should still be in the forest.”

Shelika nodded, then rose like a blade leaving a sheath. “Mm. Thank you, Rex.”

She set a large rupee on the table, silver as moonlight, and turned to go.

Rex stared, puzzled, like a cat at a mirror. “Shelika, what’s this?”

She blinked, puzzled in turn, a sparrow cocking its head. “You pay for intel with an intel fee, don’t you?”

Rex looked troubled for a beat, then conceded, like a tide giving ground. “You’re not wrong.”

He pocketed the coin, stood, and slid back into his full plate, metal blooming like dawn light, then followed after Shelika.

“You’re heading out on a mission again?” Shelika asked, brows like two fine strokes.

“No,” Rex said, with a sunlit smile. “Let me come with you.”

Her turn to be puzzled, her thoughts a stirred pond. “What do you mean?”

“I happen to have a monster investigation on the ledger,” Rex said, grin easy as spring wind. “Consider it you assisting my task.”

He was stubborn about going, and his strength ran deep, like roots under rock.

Mages struggle against phantom beasts and often need a knight’s edge, though Shelika could fight without one, like moonlight without a torch.

She agreed, clean as a cut. “All right.”

“Then let’s go!” Rex laughed, bright as a bell in blue air.

His cheer matched the sky. Outside the Holy City, the heavens were clear and blue, and the sun poured across the land like molten gold.

Green along the road rolled to the horizon, a river of leaves brimming with breath and life.

The view was lovely, the light dazzling, but Shelika felt wretched, like frost under noon.

She was now of the Dark Blood Clan, a night-walker, and the Blazing Sun gnawed at their strength like salt on a wound.

Even with a parasol, the sun pressed down. Under that white blade, her limbs turned to water.

Barely two kilometers from the gate, Shelika crouched by the roadside, a wilting flower by a stone.

Rex had noticed long ago. “You okay?!” His voice cut the heat like a splash of well water.

To Shelika, Rex could be like sunlight—warm and relentless, hard to refuse.

“I’m fine…” She rested a minute, breath stitching back together like thread, then stood.

Rex glanced up at the sky’s blazing coin. “It’s noon. Want to rest and wait for softer light?”

“No need. Let’s go,” Shelika said, breathing shallowly, head shaking like a bellflower.

The wild was still the wild—mud caked the ground like old wax, bugs crawled like pepper, and stopping here would break her skin.

Rex’s gaze softened, a breeze over wheat. “All right, don’t push it. If you can’t, I’ll carry you.”

“No need. Just go.”

They moved on. After two hours of stop-and-go, like oars fighting chop, they reached the forest where the beast was seen, an old wood of pillars and shadow.

Ancient trunks speared upward, crowns locking to blot the sun, a green roof to cradle the dark.

Freed from the sun’s bite, Shelika’s strength returned, cool as water from a spring.

“We’re fine once we’re here,” she exhaled, breath easing like mist.

Rex also let out a breath, then tried a joke. Serious men often fumble humor, like swordsmen with lute strings. “If you can’t go on, I can feed you blood!”

She knew he was kidding, but her smile came stiff, a painted crescent. “So reliable, hahaha…”

As the awkward air thickened like damp cloth, a scream knifed the distance. “Help!”

Rex’s joking face hardened, storm-clouds swallowing sun. He hesitated, lips shut, eyes fixed on Shelika, asking in silence if they should save them.

He burned to go. Shelika nodded once, clean as a bell note. “Let’s take a look.”