In the dim glow of the paper lanterns lining the narrow path, three figures walked with varying levels of frustration. Shion led the group with arms crossed, eyes narrowed like a hawk scanning for prey. Behind him, Seirou yawned, stretching his arms lazily over his head. And at the back, Seiya kicked a pebble with enough force to nearly trip over it.
"I told you we should've taken the left turn near the incense stall," Seirou muttered.
Shion shot him a sideways glare. "You've never even been here before. How would you know?"
Seirou shrugged. "Instinct. Smelled like it was the right way." Seiya, dragging his feet behind them, groaned. "You also said that about the alley that led to someone's backyard. And we got chased out by a grandma with a broom."
Shion exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I should've left both of you behind."
"By trusting your nose?" Seiya snorted.
Shion kept walking, muttering under his breath, "I'm surrounded by idiots." Behind him, Seirou and Seiya exchanged a look. "Should we tell him we're lost again?" Seiya whispered.
Seirou shook his head. "Let him find out naturally."
A few more steps down the stone path, Shion suddenly stopped in his tracks. His eyes narrowed, ears twitching sharply toward a rustling bush right outside a grand mansion's gate.
Seirou and Seiya both froze.
"Why'd you stop?" they asked in unison. Then blinked at each other. "…Did he realize we're lost?" they muttered under their breath.
"Danger," Shion said quietly, not taking his eyes off the bush. His hand hovered near his flute.
Shion took a slow, measured step back. "Something's watching us," he whispered, voice tight with focus. "It's definitely something… menacing. And terrifying," he added grimly. "We need to be careful."
Seirou and Seiya immediately tensed, glancing around like they were about to be ambushed.
Then without warning two fat white rabbits hopped out of the bushes, blinking up at them like soft, confused dumplings.
Shion's breath hitched. He took one step back. Then another. Then turned and bolted down the path at full speed, arms flailing.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Seirou blinked. "Did he just—?"
"Was that a scream?" Seiya said, half pointing, half laughing.
Seirou squinted at Shion disappearing into the distance. "I think his soul left his body for a second."
They looked down at the rabbits. Who blinked back, unimpressed.
"Menacing," Seirou muttered.
"Terrifying," Seiya agreed with a solemn nod.
There was a pause.
"…Should we go after him?"
Seirou crossed his arms. "Nah. Let him cool off."
"He'll come back when he's done pretending he wasn't scared."
"…Exactly."
Night had fallen deep, and the soft crackle of the campfire was the only sound that filled the air. Sparks drifted upward into the dark, star-dotted sky as the group sat around the fire, its glow casting long shadows across their tired faces.
Daita sat rigid, his brows furrowed. Ryoma,sat opposite to him, wore the same tension like a second skin. Across from them, Kaen was speaking quietly, trying to ease the weight in the air. Ryoma nodded absently, clearly not hearing a word.
Moments later, a group of slayers approached from the trail. Daita was on his feet before they even arrived, striding toward them with sharp urgency. A brief conversation followed, low and clipped. When they shook their heads, no news—Daita raised both hands into the air, letting out a sharp breath of frustration.
"Unbelievable…"
Ryoma stood, eyes scanning the treeline, then he spotted movement. Two familiar figures, dusty and a little winded, stepped into the firelight.
Without hesitation, Ryoma strode toward them. "Did you find her? Where's Shion?"
Seirou and Seiya exchanged a look.
"No… we couldn't," Seirou said quietly, brushing ash off his sleeve.
"And Shion…" Seiya added, glancing over his shoulder, "he'll be returning shortly."
Ryoma closed his eyes, rubbed his temples, and let out a long exhale. The weariness was catching up fast. Sensing his frustration, the twins gave him a quick, sheepish nod, then darted past him and slid down beside Kaen, the flickering light casting a soft glow across their travel-worn faces.
Kaen glanced at them, sighed, and wordlessly handed each of them a steaming wooden cup from the pot bubbling over the flames.
Seiya took his without hesitation. "Finally—something warm. We searched all day, nearly got lost sixteen times. I thought I was going to have to eat tree bark."
He took a sip, blinked, then looked at Kaen. "Wait… did you make this?"
Kaen gave a small nod, Seiya frowned, examining the cup. "Wait—shouldn't you be resting to get better? You're not supposed to be cooking, you're supposed to be resting!"
Kaen tilted his head slightly and gave another subtle nod.
Commander Zhou, sitting nearby with his bowl already empty, leaned in with a hopeful grin and held it out. "Mind if I get another bowl?"
Without a word, Kaen refilled it.
Zhou took a sip, then exhaled with visible relief. "That's the best soup I've had in days. Honestly, better than half the stuff I've tasted back in the main barracks."
Seirou chimed in, casually tossing a twig into the fire. "Of course it's good. Kaen's the best cook and painter I know. I've yet to meet anyone who can do both and make it look effortless."
Zhou gave an approving nod, still drinking. "Is that so? Then you deserve real appreciation. This soup could be on the royal kitchen's menu, no lie."
"Royal kitchen?" Seirou glanced sideways at Kaen, who only gave a little shrug, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
Commander Zhou mumbled through another mouthful. "Why don't you open a restaurant in the capital? I bet you'd be swimming in nobles within a week. People there chase perfection when it comes to food—especially the highborn ones. If you set up shop in the right district, you wouldn't just be popular… you'd be rich in no time. I might even help you land a spot inside the city. What do you say?"
Kaen immediately waved his hands. "Ah—no, no, that's not necessary. I'm really not as good as you all make it sound. And we're doing fine, just traveling and performing. We're not looking to get rich."
Zhou raised a brow. "Performers, huh?" He leaned in a little, intrigued.
Seiya perked up, a grin spreading. "Yep! We perform sword dances. And not to brag, but I'd say we're the best group around—perfectly trained and totally unmatched."
"Sword dancers?" Zhou blinked, clearly impressed. "Now that's rare. Takes years of training and discipline. Not something you see every day."
Ryoma came over and dropped down beside the fire, still visibly frustrated. Kaen glanced at him, then quietly extended a bowl.
"Here," he said, voice calm. "At least eat something. Are you planning to starve until you find her?"
Ryoma didn't respond. He kept his gaze low, the flames casting shadows across his face.
Before Kaen could say more, Daita strode over, grabbed the offered bowl without a word, and downed it—steam still curling from the surface.
The group stared, stunned.
"Did… he just drink boiling soup?" Seiya whispered.
Daita finished the last drop in one go, then froze. His brows furrowed, expression suddenly unreadable. He crouched down, staring at the empty bowl. "…This soup,"
Kaen blinked at his reaction. "Is it not good enough, Your Highness?"
Daita slowly shook his head, still fixated on the lingering taste. "No… It's the opposite. It's too good. It tastes… oddly familiar. I'm sure I've had this before. Somewhere."
Ryoma scoffed lightly. "Impossible. There's no one who can match Kaen's cooking. Maybe you're imagining it."
Kaen immediately hushed him with a gentle but firm glance. Ryoma looked away, still grumbling under his breath.
Daita stood near the edge of the firelight, arms crossed, staring off toward the dark horizon. The flicker of flames danced across his face, but the worry in his eyes didn't fade.
"We can't afford to waste another day," Daita muttered. "And honestly, I don't think the Crown Prince is coming back. The longer we stay still, the colder the trail gets. We need to find him—and finish this mission—before it's too late."
Commander Zhou nodded from his place near the fire, his expression grim. "Agreed. If that demon is truly behind this, then we're already falling behind. We need to move before it spreads chaos again."
Daita let out a slow breath through his nose, then turned to Kaen. "And about Astra… the others are still out searching for her. But if she isn't found by dawn, we'll have no choice but to press on. While we're away, maybe you could stay here with the rest of the team a little longer—"
"No need," Ryoma said sharply, cutting him off.
Kaen glanced at him, surprised. Ryoma caught it and quickly softened his tone.
"We've already decided to leave. We're recovered enough thanks to your help. We're truly grateful, but… we don't want to burden your mission. You might need your full team, and it wouldn't feel right keeping anyone behind just for us."
Daita went quiet for a moment, considering that.
"Then let's do this instead," he said at last. "Why don't you join us?"
There was a pause. All eyes turned to him.
"You've already encountered the demon once. You might not have seen its face, but you've faced its attack. And Astra disappeared because of it. This mission is centered on that same threat. If you join us, we might all stand a better chance of finding her."
Everyone exchanged hesitant glances. Ryoma opened his mouth to speak, but Kaen beat him to it.
"It makes sense," Kaen said calmly. "But Ryoma is right, we can't join you. And still… we're grateful. Trul, …Your Highness."
Daita winced. "Don't call me that. Just 'Daita' is fine. I'm younger than you, anyway."
Commander Zhou, who was halfway through his seventh bowl of soup, froze mid-sip. He coughed sharply, nearly choking. "Seventh Prince! You can't be serious. You're royalty. I hope you haven't forgotten that and you're not even in disguise this time."
Daita rolled his eyes and sighed. "As you say, Commander Zhou…"
Seirou leaned over to Kaen, muttering behind his cup, "He really doesn't like that title, huh."
Kaen nodded slightly, poking a twig into the fire with a quiet exhale. "Not one bit."