The city was waking.
The first rays of sun pushed through a light mist.
Figures drifted along the narrow lanes—someone hauling sacks, someone fixing something.
In the square before Kano's house, life was stirring. Quiet. Calm. Real.
Kano stepped onto the threshold and froze.
An orc on a roof was fixing tiles, whistling in his own way.
A young woman cooked porridge, a toddler pressed to her, lazily rubbing his eyes.
Three older orcs played some kind of dice, laughing loud,
and a half-blood boy was learning to hone a sword under his father's eye.
This city still holds.
"This… my city."
Yet something pulsed in his chest.
As if this silence were only the lull before a storm,
and he himself—part of it.
—"The little chieftain is up?" a voice rang behind him like a bell-strike.
Kano flinched.
Revena.
Still in that same "country" blouse that highlighted more than it hid,
bare shoulders, a deep neckline, and a gaze that knew what it could do.
—"Don't look at me like that," she said, catching his eyes darting down at once.
—"I even put on a blouse—out of mercy. Though… I can take it off."
She stepped closer, slow, as if warming her hips into each move.
Her breasts in the blouse swayed a little—and Kano looked away again.
—"You… you're doing it again," he muttered.
—"And you're blushing again," she smiled. —"As if you're not the one commanding the orcs, but they're commanding you."
Kano exhaled. Deep. And asked:
—"Did you find anything?"
Her smile vanished. She nodded, serious.
—"Yes.
It wasn't an army. It was… something worse. Mercenaries. Rapists. Degenerates.
One bastard gathered them."
—"Who?" Kano's voice turned sharp.
—"The new king of men. Valdegar Lokris."
Kano clenched his fists until the knuckles went white.
Dark fire filled his eyes.
The air around him seemed to tremble—an unseen pressure pouring out from within.
—"Lianisa…" he whispered.
Revena tilted her head:
—"And you… why react like that? You were her knight too, huh?"
Kano looked at her—sharp as a blade. And said:
—"I heard what they did to her…
And that alone is enough to wake at night in cold sweat."
For the first time, Revena fell silent.
For a few seconds—the words hung between them, heavy, searing.
—"You know," she said quietly, —"sometimes death is mercy. And sometimes—a luxury.
But she's alive.
And if she truly lives—then things can still be changed."
She turned away.
Walked slowly. But in every step there was something deeper than provocation.
It wasn't just a game anymore.
—"Thank you…" Kano murmured.
Revena didn't look back. She only lifted a hand and waved, as if allowing him to say more—but tomorrow.
Kano was left alone.
Children laughed again, but to him it all felt like a silent illusion.
Over his shoulder, like a shadow, one name stood for a long time:
Lianisa.
And with it—a burning, relentless:
"You must find strength. Otherwise… you'll lose everything again."
The square seemed to hush when Revena slipped around the corner.
Kano remained where he was, motionless—only his eyes slowly followed
as the orcs loaded provisions for the march, checked their gear,
greeted one another, laughed.
But all Kano heard was a single word, ringing in his head:
Lianisa.
He clenched his fingers till the joints nearly cracked.
Memory drove Lenor's phrases through him. Each one—like a rusty blade across the heart.
—"We're ready," came the voice of Grimtar, the captain of the company awaiting orders.
Kano turned slowly. His gaze was dark, hard.
Not angry—spent. Scorched from within.
—"If you see a woman…
Tall. Poised. A gaze as straight as a blade.
She may seem proud, but that's because she hasn't broken."
—"Guard her… as you would me."
Grimtar bowed his head. He asked nothing.
Because Kano's voice already held the answer—the kind no one would dare speak aloud.
The orcs moved out. Steady as stone.
The street filled with the sound of armor, the rhythm of steps, and an iron resolve.
Kano stood alone. For a long time.
"She is a queen.
She wasn't just enslaved—she was crushed.
Publicly. Humiliated. Before a world that turned away.
And me? I have no strength. No army. No power to change it all.
But I have to do at least something.
Because in this world despair is what everyone meets on their road.
And I have no right to yield to it.
I don't want to. And I won't.
I will grow stronger. Even if I must become what I once feared."
The sky above was clear.
The sun shone.
And somewhere deep inside—a fire was being born.
The terrace still smelled of morning.
After a night that had changed them, everything felt different around them:
calm, alive, right.
Lianel stepped out first. Behind her—Selina, wrapped in a light cloak.
Naira stood by a wooden pillar, there from the first minutes, as if she'd known she should be here.
Below, in the distance by the wall,
stood Kano.
Alone.
His stance was firm, and yet…
hollowed. As if something boiled inside him that he himself could not contain.
Even from afar—an aura of unease pushed through the morning air.
Selina pressed her hands to her cheeks.
—"I… feel him. Not like before. Deeper.
He… blames himself. For what he couldn't do. For what he didn't reach in time."
—"Yes," said Lianel, leaning forward a little. —"And he still doesn't understand he's already become stronger. We need to… support him."
Naira stepped closer without a word.
She studied Kano's figure in the distance for a long while.
Then, without taking her eyes off him, she said:
—"No.
We will do nothing."
Selina and Lianel looked at her in surprise.
—"If we're always there, holding his hand,
how will he learn who he's become?
He needs to stand at the edge. Alone.
He needs to find the answer himself."
—"But you understand," Lianel objected, —"that like this… he may drift away. From us."
Naira pressed her lips together. Then answered calmly:
—"And if we become his shield,
will that keep him safe from what waits in the dark?"
Selina was silent.
Her eyes seemed to glisten. She hugged herself,
but this time not from fear, instead to hold on to resolve.
—"I…
For the first time I think he knows what to do on his own.
And I stand with you, Naira."
Lianel sighed.
Her eyes slid over her friends' faces, then back—to where Kano stood.
—"I hate this choice…"
—"but I agree with it."
Kano walked ahead. His cloak—not yet on his shoulders, and already it felt like part of his skin.
Dark fabric, embroidered with orcish symbols, seemed heavy as memory.
Each of his steps sounded in his chest like the echo of a decision.
Naira stood straight, shoulders squared, the cloak in her hands.
The very one she'd personally commissioned from the best orcish craftswomen.
"He must know we believe in him even when he doesn't believe in himself."
She offered it without words. Kano met her eyes. He found steel there. And warmth.
Selina stepped forward in silence. Her hands trembled,
but the flask of healing and mana did not fall.
"If you come back covered in wounds… I'll stitch you together again. Even from ash."
Lianel came last. In her hands—Kano's sword.
Sharp. Clean. Strong, like her pride.
"Your hand is my arrow. Your battle is my blood."
He took everything. Not a word.
And then… for the first time—he bowed to them.
Slowly. Deeply. Honestly.
Kano's monologue:
"I am no god. And no hero. I am the world's shadow that has learned how light shines…"
"…but if my steps can save even one life—I will take them. Even if I don't return."
He turned and set off for the gate.
Silence.
And suddenly—the three women's eyes pinned Elgot.
He was walking behind, glancing sideways at them. As if he wanted to say something… and didn't.
"I just… I didn't force… That's not…"
He gulped for air.
"What in the blazes am I doing again? He's marching to his death—and I, an old magic punching bag, am trundling after him!"
—"This… wasn't my idea," he grumbled aloud, as if defending himself.
—"And anyway, he didn't even call me!"
Naira said nothing, but her eyes narrowed, slow.
Lianel raised a brow a fraction,
as if committing every nerve in his face to memory.
Selina simply watched—like eyes that see everything, even shame.
"If he doesn't come back—it's my fault. They think it. And… I know it."
Elgot hunched a little. Lifted his hands:
—"Fine then… Let's go, kid. We'll see who eats whom first."
Kano didn't turn. He only took another step. And then another.
And then—he vanished beyond the gate.