The scene shifts to a secluded mountain path. Livia and Emma had changed into coarse gray garments, cloaked and hooded, resembling two humble village women on a journey. With simple bundles strapped to their backs, their pace was steady and unhurried, and their movements natural—so well-disguised that not a single flaw could be discerned. Sunlight filtered through the branches above, casting dappled shadows over them as they moved, every step carefully measured, every glance sharp and alert.
What they didn't know was that, just a hundred meters away, another figure trailed them silently beneath the cover of the trees—accompanied by a dog. He kept a considerable distance, as if entirely unconcerned with losing them. His steps were so light that not a single leaf stirred beneath his feet. He moved like a shadow, one with the forest—undetectable unless he chose to be seen.
Not far behind him, a small unit advanced silently through the dense woods.
Leading them was a tall, imposing man. He wore a deep black cloak lined in dark red, with silver insignias on his shoulders carved into sharp, blade-like forms. His gaze was cold and unyielding, exuding an aura of authority that could not be challenged. Every step he took seemed to command the very wind and grass around him to part. He was none other than Will—one of Eryx's most trusted commanders.
Following him was a compact unit of elite soldiers, uniform in their steps, silent as drawn arrows waiting to be loosed.
Even Livia and Emma—both former thieves who once stirred the shadows of the underground world—failed to detect anything amiss. They proceeded cautiously, occasionally halting to scan their surroundings and whispering brief exchanges. Emma in particular was vigilant, brushing aside leaves with the tip of her foot to search for tracks or camouflaged traps. But as the path continued undisturbed, her guard began to lower.
"This area seems deserted," Emma whispered. "If there were an ambush, it wouldn't be this quiet."
Livia nodded. Though she remained alert, a quiet confidence flickered in her eyes. She trusted her instincts, trusted Emma's expertise, and trusted the calm, trace-free terrain around them. But it was that very smoothness that buried the seeds of danger.
Eventually, they rounded a rocky outcrop and saw a fissure in the mountainside ahead. From afar, it appeared no different from any natural crevice—irregular in shape, dim, and nearly hidden behind withered branches. Without precise directions, it would've been almost impossible to spot. But as they approached, a strange sensation crept over them—something neither wind nor dampness could explain. A chill down the spine, mingled with an irresistible pull.
Emma frowned. "This place… something's off. Are we really going in?"
Livia slowly approached the opening, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the weathered grooves in the stone. Her gaze grew thoughtful, almost dazed. "I don't know why, but I feel it. Even if it's not the Grail, it's something important."
Emma looked at her, hesitating. Her reason told her that turning back would be the safest choice—everything had gone too smoothly. But she'd come to understand Livia better over time. When Livia made a decision, she rarely changed it. In the end, Emma merely sighed. "Alright. But we can't afford mistakes."
The two quickly slipped into their rogue personas, exchanged a wordless glance of understanding, and carefully made their way inside. Every so often, Emma would carve discreet symbols into the rock—marks that only they could read.
The cave gradually widened, its corridors branching off in various directions. Some had been worn away by time, while others appeared to have been deliberately carved. A faint breeze echoed from the depths, whispering like a distant voice. Moss and pale mineral crystals clung to parts of the wall, and in some spots, the charred remains of old torches suggested others had once walked this path.
"This place doesn't look untouched," Emma murmured, eyes sharp with suspicion.
Livia nodded, but her gaze was firm, her steps steady. "That just means we're in the right place."
Neither of them noticed that, just a few dozen meters behind—where they had briefly taken shelter earlier—the tracker had crouched down. He pointed silently at a single disturbed leaf on the ground, then raised his gaze toward the cave entrance. A slow, knowing smile curved at the corner of his lips.