The sun was slowly sinking. The Frings family spread out, searching every inch of the city—narrow alleys, crowded pubs, the bustling marketplace, and even the dense edges of the forest.
At their headquarters—a sprawling manor filled with weapons and guarded secrets—the family prepared for what was to come. Caesar lay resting on a bed, exhaustion etched on his face, while Fergus sat nearby, a mocking grin tugging at his lips.
"See, you're not ready to be a knight," Fergus teased, his voice sharp. "You got beaten by a kid."
Caesar's eyes narrowed but his tone remained calm. "A kid who is the Chosen One."
He scoffed. "Even if you couldn't beat him—"
"First of all," Fergus interrupted, "I'm far stronger than you. That's why it's insulting we share the same title."
Fergus leaned forward, eyes gleaming with challenge. "And second, no matter how powerful he is, a mage is still just a mage."
He smirked, voice dripping with contempt. "So not only is it embarrassing that you lost to a kid, it's even more humiliating that you're a swordsman with wind magic beaten by a kid mage."
"Tsk, I could have beaten him next time we meet," Caesar pouted, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Sure, sure," Fergus laughed dismissively.
The heavy door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside. Caesar's face brightened with a smile, while Fergus's smirk deepened.
"Well, if it isn't the man who knighted this idiot," Fergus said, nodding toward Caesar and then at his companion.
"Frings!" Caesar greeted the newcomer.
"Come now, Fergus," Frings said smoothly, "your cousin really worked hard to become a knight. Besides, aren't you supposed to be finding the girl?"
"Nah," Fergus replied, waving a hand. "The Knight Commander can handle that. And I'm your cousin—he's our cousin," he added, pointing at Caesar. "Cut me some slack."
Frings approached Caesar, folding his arms. "I suppose you're right, but you've been using that privilege far too often."
He sighed, a rare softness in his voice. "Family, after all."
Caesar chuckled. "Anyway, what's so special about this girl? Haven't you had enough like her already?"
Frings said nothing, his gaze distant, while Fergus simply listened.
"I mean, sure, she's beautiful, but most of your girls are."
Frings sighed deeply.
"Mergoth!" Frings called.
"Yes, milord," came the reply.
"Find Dante. You two are to locate that girl today. And I want no noise—find a way to silence Rethrus without harming him. Understood?"
"Yes, milord."
"Now go."
After Mergoth left, Frings stood by the window, staring out at the city.
"You know, Caesar, you're right. But that girl… she's a pure Avalorian, with a beauty unlike any other."
A slow, dark smirk spread across his face. "And I want to taste that kind of beauty."
"Tsk," Fergus murmured, shaking his head.
Back in the capital, the troops continued their relentless hunt.
'Tsk, where are they?' Dante thought, glancing anxiously at the darkening sky.
Every lead turned up wrong—just ordinary people with daughters, nieces, or sisters—causing confusion and frustration.
On the other side of the city, Rethrus ran toward the gate, Xiaolan clinging tightly to his back.
"Hang tight, Xiaolan. It's going to be a long run," he said, forcing a reassuring smile.
"Oh," Xiaolan replied softly.
'Damn it,' Rethrus thought, picturing Dante's imposing figure. 'I hope we don't cross paths.'
Hours passed with no success.
They kept mistaking innocent people for their targets.
"Tsk, just another brother and sister, sir," a subordinate reported.
"Tsk, you're right," Dante replied, glancing up at the sky.
'My men and I have nearly finished checking everyone caught by the spell, yet we still can't find him.'
His eyes widened as realization dawned.
'Rethrus is smart. When he felt the wind, he must have known it was magic and gone underground.'
"You!" Dante barked, pointing at his men. "Search every underground tunnel, every hidden hole—every place the wind magic can't reach!"
"Yes, sir!" his men responded, scattering.
'But what if he really is there? What if we capture him?' Dante pondered briefly.
'The kid will be handed back to Lord Frings. Why should I care?'
Then Clea's voice echoed in his mind—her desperate plea to save the girl. Doubt flickered within him, unsettling and unfamiliar.
He stopped running, eyes fixed on the sinking sun. The sky blazed with orange and purple hues, contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside.
'What am I doing?' he wondered silently. 'Chasing a boy like a hunted animal, destroying a girl's future—all for power and lust?'
His gaze drifted to the busy streets below, where a daughter laughed while playing with her father, a simple joy so distant from his hardened heart.
'What should I do?' he whispered to himself.
The weight of his choices pressed down like the dusk settling over the city.
He looked up again, then toward the distant gate. The path ahead was crowded and uncertain, but something inside compelled him forward.
Slowly, he began walking toward the gate, the city's noise fading as his thoughts consumed him.
The sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the capital in fiery twilight. Dante stood at the gate district's edge, staring at the distant archway. He bowed his head, closing his eyes as if the fading light could burn away his doubts.
"Sir!" a subordinate's shout broke the silence.
Dante snapped to attention. "What?"
"I detect two people matching the description running toward—"
"THE GATE!" Dante barked. "Move out!" He surged forward, his men scrambling behind him.
'It seems I have to fulfill my duty after all.'
Rethrus sprinted, Xiaolan trembling on his back.
"Aren't you tired?" she whispered.
"Of course not. Just relax—we're getting out of this city," he lied, legs burning with exhaustion.
'Hoo, that's too much running,' he thought, sweat dripping down his neck.
Dante's boots pounded the cobblestones, his mind a storm. The city blurred around him—faces, voices, the chaos of the crowd. His heart pounded, not just from the chase but from something deeper. He remembered Clea's voice, her plea to help the girl. He remembered the promises he'd made, the lines he'd crossed.
'I've killed for Lord Frings. I've done everything for him.'
Memories flashed—his wife's lifeless eyes, his daughter's terrified face from years ago. Lord Frings had saved him then, but at what cost?
"We're gaining, sir!" a subordinate yelled.
Dante pushed harder. 'I won't fail him. I can't—'
A child's scream cut through the chaos. A girl, no older than six, stood frozen in their path, clutching a worn doll. Her wide, terrified eyes mirrored his daughter's on that fateful day.
Dante skidded to a halt, his men nearly colliding with him.
"What's wrong, sir?"
He stared at the girl. For a heartbeat, the knight commander vanished, replaced by a broken father.
"It's… not them," Dante said hoarsely. "Fall back. Rejoin the others."
His men exchanged confused glances but obeyed.
As Dante turned away, Rethrus and Xiaolan slipped through the gate unnoticed.
"We did it!" Rethrus gasped, collapsing just beyond the city walls.
Above them, the sky shimmered—a golden barrier sealing the capital as night fell.