Both Livia and Violet arrived at the place where Livia had met Myriad the last time, but he wasn't there. Tree leaves were scattered everywhere, and drink cans were thrown around; it was clear that the place hadn't been cleaned for a long time. Livia turned right and left, trying to scout her surroundings, but even traces of his coming were absent.
"He's not here," Violet whispered lightly and nervously. Livia glanced back at her from the corner of her eyes, then sighed in annoyance.
"Let's go somewhere private," Livia said before she began walking forward, and Violet quickly followed her in tension.
Both of them reached an empty place between the trees, hidden enough to be out of control and to kill someone without anyone seeing.
"Use your skill."
"H-here?" Violet said anxiously, fidgeting with her fingers.
"Yes, start quickly as well."
"...A-all right," Violet said before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She opened them slowly, and suddenly the air around them trembled, even Livia's breath staggered.
Violet ran her hand through the air as if dragging it across an invisible curtain. Then, golden droplets of mana appeared around them, beginning to flicker in the void, and started connecting with each other until they formed like threads linking to Violet's fingertips—golden threads flickering, connected to her fingers, leading her forward among the trees. More droplets appeared ahead, and golden threads connected them.
"S-someone used a skill here," Violet said in a tone both excited and nervous.
"A skill like this doesn't suit a girl obsessed with alchemy, huh?" Livia thought to herself before patting Violet's shoulder, smiling at her lightly, and saying in a warm tone:
"Well done!"
Violet smiled, and her smile grew wider, her cheeks flushing slightly at the praise, happy to be useful.
"Mystic Disclosure" is a tracking and information-type skill, allowing the user to trace the remnants of hidden skills recently used in the area by manipulating mana itself to a certain level. The mana forms as water droplets, connecting to each other like threads starting from the user's fingertips, guiding them toward the user.
Violet began walking in front, while Livia followed behind in silence with a satisfied smile. The golden threads led them through the trees, more droplets appearing ahead, flickering faintly and connecting to the one before them with the threads, until they finally reached the end after what felt like a long walk. Near one of the cherry trees, a single golden mana droplet floated close without connecting to the next, signifying the end of the path.
"This...is the end?" Violet said in confusion and wonder.
"D-did I make a mistake again? D-damn it...I can't even use my skill properly—" Violet thought to herself, biting her lower lip before the golden threads vanished. Then, Livia approached the cherry tree and ran her finger along its trunk, feeling the roughness of the bark and its cracks, before noticing a bigger cut than the others as if made by a tool like a knife or dagger. At that moment, Livia smiled an arrogant, mocking smile.
"Tomorrow's meeting will be quite eventful for that wench Aria."
———————
In Noah's nightmare, the next day had already arrived. It was evening, and the sun was slowly setting toward the west. Numerous police cars gathered in the neighborhood, and policemen searched every corner and alley of the city, all to find one person.
In one of these poor alleys, a certain runaway rat was running—Altair. His body was drenched in sweat from nonstop running. He took another turn where he spotted an old building, its walls cracked from age, with narrow iron balconies on every floor connected by metal staircases. Altair dashed forward and leapt with all he had, grabbing the rusty railing with the tips of his fingers. Then he pushed his muscles and forced himself upward, vaulting over the railing, climbing the stairs to the next balcony and the one after until he reached the rooftop.
Altair stood on the rooftop, breathing heavily. He swallowed his saliva, walked toward the edge, and looked down. The city beneath him looked like a map, and the policemen were searching in every corner, unable to find him, their faces filled with anger and confusion.
Altair stepped back a little before collapsing to the ground, sitting as he tried to calm himself and slow his breathing. He wiped the sweat on his forehead with his elbow, then looked up at the clear blue sky above him.
"When did running become this exhausting?" Altair thought to himself before pushing off the ground, forcing himself to stand. His legs trembled from fatigue, and he felt pain in his side, in his kidney, from the intensity of running. But he walked toward the other edge to his right, where another building stood, shorter than the current one. He stared at its rooftop coldly before swallowing again and taking a step back.
Altair dashed forward with all his strength, and when he was close enough to the edge, he poured every last ounce of power into his legs and jumped forward with all he had. The feeling of no ground beneath him was terrifying, but freeing—the feeling of wind rushing around him, of nothing stopping him, as if suspended in the sky, was comforting. Then, he crashed onto the other rooftop with force, his body slamming mercilessly against the ground. The hard tiles gave him no mercy, bouncing his body until he rolled painfully—every movement worsening the agony in his shoulders, back, and thighs. His breath faltered, and faint sounds of bone creaking against the tiles mixed with his muffled groans.
Finally, his body stopped rolling, lying there in pain like a corpse, trembling, curling up while clutching his stomach from the agony, his breaths rapid. Yet, he pushed his trembling hands against the ground and forced his body to stand again. He started walking toward the nearby edge and saw that the police had moved away to search elsewhere.
"This...is comforting..." Altair whispered through stings of pain, his body and clothes dirty with dust, his eyes barely opening from pain and exhaustion.
Then, from the corner of his eyes, he spotted someone walking down the street below, and he recognized him instantly—the bastard who killed his parents. He was wearing ordinary clothes like any common citizen: a pristine black jacket with a striped red-and-blue tie, black leather shoes, and his face blurred as always, as if heading to a job interview. But what unsettled Altair most was who was walking with him. It was a woman wearing a long dark chestnut wool coat wrapped tightly around her body, with low-heeled leather shoes, while her gray wool scarf fluttered in the cold breeze. Her long hair was partly hidden beneath a small hat.
A small girl, about Altair's size or even smaller, wore a light yellow coat, warm dark trousers, and little black leather shoes that seemed comfortable for her playful steps. Her small hat covered her head completely, with strands of soft brown hair slipping beneath it, gleaming with every step she took, while she held the woman's hand on one side and the man's hand on the other, walking in the middle.
Altair understood the situation immediately, for he had lived it before with his parents, and he would have lived it more if they were still alive.
"...That bastard...he has a family!…" Altair whispered to himself in shock. The warm smiles and loving gazes between them made it clear they were a family.
Altair's eyes widened in horror as he looked at them. The killer of his parents was smiling and enjoying a wonderful time with his family, not caring at all about what he had done yesterday. His daughter laughed, looking at him with proud and happy eyes for having a father like him, and his wife smiled in joy at having built such a family. Altair stepped back slightly, with hesitant, terrified steps.
"Don't mess with me...he has a family...then why did he do what he did to my parents? Who does this bastard think he is, smiling like that after killing my parents?…I'll kill him! No, I'll kill his family in front of him before I kill him! I'll cut his body into pieces and feed them to pigs! I'll throw what's left of his daughter into the sea and blow his wife's head apart! Those bastards! Those scum! You're all guilty! You're the ones who killed my family! This is justice! Yes, that's right! This is only fair! It's a righteous judgment!" Altair said to himself as he scratched his own skin until his fingers tore his cheeks, but he didn't care about the pain. His heart was too full of hatred to notice something as small as pain.
The fatigue and exhaustion Altair had felt vanished. His legs stopped trembling, and he wiped the dust off his face.
"It's not fair for the one who stole my happiness to feel happiness...but I am not fair, so I'll steal his family's happiness for this. I...I am Altair Elios Aquila...and I will kill that bastard, because I want to."