The tavern buzzed with raucous laughter and the rhythmic clink of mugs. Adventurers packed the room—some celebrating victories with sloshing ale, others nursing quiet drinks in shadowed corners. Eyes followed Eira and Dain as they wove through the crowd and settled at a small corner table.

  A waitress with long green hair tied in a high ponytail approached them. "New faces!" she chirped. "I'm Fina. I don't think I've seen you two around here before."

  After they introduced themselves, Eira explained their pending guild application.

  “Ah, the Master is out scouting,” Fina said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Rumor says they spotted the Warlock near the border.”

  “Warlock?” Eira’s curiosity flared.

  “It’s a rare, humanoid monster that can cast magic,” Fina explained. “But its magic is… strange. It isn't like a sorcerer’s. That’s why they are trying to capture it, to study where its power comes from.”

  Eira was intrigued. She had always wondered what made her mother’s spells so unique, and now here was another mysterious form of power.

  Their food arrived—thick cuts of roasted meat and herb-buttered bread. Eira studied the crowd as they ate: a bruised swordsman sharpening his blade, a pair of mages arguing over spell diagrams, and a group in the center singing wildly off-key. Despite the noise, the warmth of the hearth and Fina’s bright smile made it clear why this place was the heart of the city.

  “Let’s explore!” Eira hopped up the moment she finished her meal, darting for the door.

  She led the way out, but just as they reached the threshold, a voice called out.

  “Excuse me!”

  “Yes?” Eira turned.

  “You haven’t paid yet,” Fina said, smiling awkwardly.

  Dain turned bright red and hurriedly pulled out his wallet. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. Wait for me here, Eira. I’ll go pay.”

  As he walked to the counter, a bald, thick-armed man loomed over the bar.

  “Trying to skip out on the bill, huh, boy?” the man growled.

  “I really am sorry. It just slipped my mind,” Dain replied, his eyes downcast with embarrassment.

  “Next time, pay before you eat. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. My apologies.”

  After settling the bill, Dain turned back toward the door. “…Eira?!”

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  She was gone.

  He rushed outside, his heart hammering against his ribs as he called her name. “Eira! Where are you?!” He looked left and right down the darkening street. “That idiot! I told her to wait! Aaagh!”

  Eira found herself shoved into a dark alley, the only light coming from a sliver of the moon. In front of her stood three men, grinning with a predatory hunger. Her hands were tied behind her back, a rough cloth gag stuffed into her mouth.

  One of the men pulled out a jagged knife. He crouched down, pressing the cold blade against Eira’s neck before yanking the gag away.

  “Hand over your money, girl,” he sneered. “You’re clearly from a rich family. Pretty face, pale skin… you’ve never seen a day of hardship in your life.”

  He brushed her cheek with a filthy hand, a sickening look in his eyes. Behind him, the other two snickered.

  Eira’s mind reeled. She couldn't understand why this was happening, but fear gripped her—followed quickly by a cold, sharp anger. As the man lowered his weapon, reaching for her clothes with a look of vile intent, Eira began to focus. She ignored the rope, drawing mana into her core for a chantless burst.

  But then—

  BAM! BAM!

  Two sickening thuds echoed through the alley. The man jumped back, gripping his knife. A familiar, towering presence stood behind Eira.

  “Dain!!!”

  Without taking his eyes off the man, Dain sliced through Eira’s bindings. As she scrambled to her feet and moved behind him, she noticed the other two men were already on the ground, unconscious, with blood oozing from where they had been struck.

  “Are you okay, Eira?” Dain asked, his voice low and vibrating with rage.

  “Yes! Thank you for coming!”

  The remaining man took a desperate stance and launched himself forward. He moved with a blurred speed that Eira could barely follow, slashing his knife downward in a lethal, spinning motion.

  Dain didn’t flinch. He caught the man’s wrist mid-swing and squeezed. A sickening crack echoed through the alley, and the knife clattered to the stones as the man screamed.

  “You bastards… How dare you lay a hand on my princess!” Dain roared.

  The man panicked, swinging a wild left hook, but Dain caught that too. He crushed the second wrist, then seized the man by the throat and slammed him into the ground with bone-shaking force. The man went limp instantly.

  Dain didn't even check if they were breathing.

  “Let’s go back,” he said softly, his breathing heavy as the rage began to fade.

  “Yes,” Eira replied gently. “Thank you, Dain.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me?” he scolded, though his voice was tired now.

  “I’m sorry… I just wanted to see the stars. But the moment I stepped out, they grabbed me.”

  “So that’s what happened.” Dain sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “There are scumbags like that even in the capital. What’s worse, some of them have real skill. That knife guy, he could’ve done something meaningful with his abilities. Instead, he chose this. People like that piss me off.”

  “They probably have their reasons,” Eira mused, her voice small.

  “Whatever those reasons are, I can’t accept their actions.”

  Eira stared at Dain. She had always seen him as the hot-tempered, annoying boy she grew up with. But tonight, she saw a different man—someone calmer, more thoughtful, and more protective than she had realized.

  Dain suddenly glanced back toward the darkness of the alley.

  “What is it?” Eira asked.

  “Nothing. Just a cat.”

  “I see.”