Chapter 53

"Huh?"

Mikhail stepped closer to Julien, who stood there blinking back a dazed reply.

"!"

Julien flinched and stumbled backward. He swallowed hard, and for a split second his eyes went sharp—edged like a cornered animal.

But that wasn't a conscious reaction. Not really.

"Oh."

Just as Mikhail suspected. The flicker of alarm lasted only an instant before Julien reined his expression back in.

One deep breath, and he plastered on a casual, sheepish grin.

Mikhail watched the violet eyes settle back to calm, then lowered his gaze and spoke slowly.

He'd planted the anchor he'd need later.

The question he'd just asked would surface in Julien's mind at exactly the right moment.

"You looked pale. If you're fine, then forget I asked."

When Mikhail softened his tone, Julien rubbed the back of his neck and smiled with a touch of embarrassment.

"Oh, yeah. I actually got a little motion sick on the way here... but I'm fine now. Guess it showed, huh. Sorry for making you worry."

"—Hey! How far are you two gonna go!"

CLATTER-BANG.

That was the only way to describe the stampede of footsteps that cut Julien off and closed in fast.

Mikhail shifted his gaze past Julien's shoulder. It was Edwin.

Edwin had both their abandoned bags heaped on his back, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

"Seriously! Do either of you have a brain between you? Ditching all our bags and just taking off? You go on and on about pickpockets and then you practically beg to get cleaned out—!"

That was when it happened.

"—AAAAAGH! My wallet! I know my wallet was right here! What the hell happened!"

This time it was Edwin's voice that got drowned out.

A piercing wail of disbelief rode the open air and echoed all the way into the alley.

Mikhail let a slow breath leak through his nose. Given the circumstances, the owner of that voice was... fairly obvious.

"Oh, the poor thing."

"Tsk tsk. Guess he finally noticed."

Julien murmured with a sympathetic wince while Edwin glanced back toward the street and clicked his tongue.

Mikhail started walking first. He moved forward and spoke in an even tone.

"Let's head back. To the request office."

---

The three of them emerged from the alleys and stepped onto the road leading to the village center.

After roughly ten minutes along the straight path, they arrived at the request office.

"......"

Mikhail glanced at the large notice plastered across the front door.

[...Anyone possessing decisive information regarding the resolution of the sleeping sickness or the apprehension of the pickpocket is urged to contact the guard station. Compensation will be provided.]

[—Guard Captain Burnt Hemilson—]

Mikhail scanned the contents, then dropped his gaze and pushed the door open.

Creeeak.

The request office was packed wall to wall.

Clusters of staff, locals, and shell-shocked travelers sat scattered throughout, pouring out their grievances.

"Ever since they hauled in that last oak barrel, the man's been nodding off like a sick chicken. First it was ten hours a day. Then twelve. Now he sleeps fourteen hours and still can't open his eyes properly?"

"Listen here, Captain. Please, just find my wallet. Hm? My entire travel fund was in there! At this rate I can't afford a single bottle of wine, let alone a carriage ride home."

Mikhail slipped past the guard captain—who looked thoroughly overwhelmed with a sobbing man clinging to his sleeve—and stepped up to the reception counter.

The office owner, seated at the desk sorting through paperwork, raised his head and looked at Mikhail.

"Hello. We're here from Salvator."

At Mikhail's greeting, the owner's eyes went wide and a flush of color spread across his wrinkled face.

"Oh ho, of course I know! Salvator—that famous...!"

As the owner exclaimed with recognition, Edwin cleared his throat for no reason and stepped forward.

Han and Ul, perched on Mikhail's shoulders, popped their heads up and wagged their tails.

Mikhail gave the preening bunch a sidelong glance, then pulled a small booklet from inside his coat.

[Salvator Academy: Credential and Mission Authorization Certificate]

Mikhail set the booklet on the table.

"This certificate contains the mission details and our personal information. Please review it and process our registration."

"Just a moment. I'll have the authorization ready in no time."

The owner snatched up the certificate and flipped it open. Eyes behind reading glasses rolled across the page.

"Let's see here..."

Mikhail blinked slowly. He already knew what the owner would find as he read through, line by line.

A roster with no family names—just given names.

Second-years who'd barely shed their greenhorn status, with an average academic score of D. And a grand total of zero completed missions.

"......"

Silence settled in. The bright warmth that had lit up the owner's face dimmed by degrees.

The wide, eager smile gradually closed. The buoyant mood deflated bit by bit.

Until finally, behind those reading glasses, the corners of his eyes narrowed with unmistakable disappointment.

"Ahem."

The owner snapped the certificate shut with an audible clap.

He scrawled the three names onto a nearby sheet of paper and slid the booklet back across the counter.

"Listen, young masters. How about you come back in two or three hours? There are a few things I need to handle first."

---

Tavern: Leisure Beneath the Guardian Tree

[Colton Winery's most popular establishment. Refreshing beverages available. One sparkling water for 5 silver!]

They were in Colton Winery's outer shopping district.

Mikhail glanced at the sign, then walked into the tavern without hesitation.

"Welcome in!"

Despite the early hour, a couple of patrons were already thoroughly drunk, and a handful of others sat chatting over drinks.

Mikhail surveyed the interior, then made his way to a corner table and sat down.

Edwin, Julien, Han, and Ul followed.

"—Goddammit! That miserable old coot!"

Two sparkling waters, one fresh green tea, and a raisin muffin.

The moment they'd finished ordering, a booming voice cut across the hall.

The source was, predictably, Edwin.

Edwin's eyes flashed with indignation as he crammed a grape-leaf biscuit from the complimentary basket into his mouth and crunched down hard.

"They can't even solve their own problems, so they beg for help—and then they pull that? The nerve! Must be nice having it so good!"

"Kang!"

Mikhail glanced between the fuming Edwin and the sky foxes yipping in agreement, then leaned toward Julien beside him.

"Julien."

The quiet call made Julien jump. He'd been pressing his temples with both hands, expression tight.

He turned and met Mikhail's eyes.

"Hm? What?"

Mikhail studied Julien's face for a moment, then glanced past his shoulder and spoke.

"One favor. Don't move from that position until I say we're done."

"?"

Julien blinked, puzzled. But he didn't seem inclined to refuse.

He cleared his throat, straightened his hunched back, and fixed himself upright in his seat.

Mikhail watched the adjustment, then shifted his eyes toward the entrance and murmured.

"The pickpocket's going to walk in any second."

The question had barely left Julien's lips when Edwin slammed the table and launched into another tirade.

"That old man! I'm gonna scrub his bald head so hard I rip out every last hair follicle! That's the only thing that'll make me feel better!"

"Kang! Kang-kang!"

Click.

The entrance door swung open without warning. Mikhail ducked behind Julien's frame, peeking just his head past the edge to watch the doorway.

"Oh, welcome back! The usual?"

The man who stepped inside was a familiar face.

The sharp-tempered man from the hillside near Colton Winery, the one he'd crossed paths with upon arrival.

His clothes were different now—cleaner, more put-together—but the worn gauntlet on his right hand was exactly the same.

"I wanna march right in there and give him a piece of my mind, but showing up after business hours is basic decency. You guys agree, right?"

"Krrng."

Edwin kept ranting, oblivious, and the sky foxes matched his energy bark for bark.

Julien's upper body swayed slightly.

"......"

Mikhail held his breath and tracked the man's every movement.

The man dropped into an empty seat. The tavern owner whisked over a sparkling water in no time and set it before him.

The man placed a silver coin on the table, exchanged a few words with the owner, and bid him goodbye in an easy, practiced way.

After a couple of chuckles, he grabbed his drink and headed for the exit in one smooth motion.

"Hmph. Like telling me not to go is gonna stop me. I'll ditch this backwater dump for good this time."

Click.

With that parting remark, the tavern door swung shut again.

The hall returned to the same low murmur as before.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the man's retreating back and fixed it on his group, still carrying on at full volume.

Edwin had moved on to laying out an elaborate revenge plan in meticulous detail, and the sky foxes barked along in gleeful support.

Not a single one of them had noticed what had just passed behind them.

Meanwhile, Julien, sitting right beside him—

"Just... a little... quiet..."

His right hand covered his eyes, lips barely moving as the words stumbled out in fragments.

But neither Edwin nor the sky foxes caught a word of it.

The commotion at the table only fed on itself, growing louder and more raucous by the second.

"......"

Mikhail watched the scene unfold in silence.

Julien's posture had curled inward since moments ago, and the left hand resting on the table trembled visibly.

Scrrrch...

It happened in a flash. Veins rose along the back of Julien's hand, and pale blue sparks crackled from the fingertips scratching against the table's surface.

Mikhail's brow drew tight.

Mana flooding unchecked, devouring his awareness inch by inch.

At this rate, Julien's power would erupt before long...

Not yet.

Mikhail clicked his tongue once and moved. He fixed his eyes on Julien's profile and quietly raised his hand.

---