"Life used to be good," Agu muttered bitterly. "But here I am, reduced to a thief."
He was stuffing jerky into a sack—fine wolf meat, the kind their late leader had hoarded for himself. His hands trembled slightly as he worked, driven by equal parts hunger and fear.
"It's too much," he said under his breath. He looked at the half-filled sack. It stood nearly as tall as his chest, maybe eighty, ninety catties of meat. More than enough to get him killed if anyone caught him.
The faint creak of a hinge broke the silence.
The door behind him was opening—soundless but deliberate.
Before Agu could turn, a cold hand clamped over his mouth. A flash of steel glinted in the torchlight—a saber pressed gently but unmistakably against his throat.
"Mmff—!" Agu froze, eyes wide in terror.
"Don't move," a hoarse voice whispered in his ear. "Or I'll open a second mouth in your neck."
The chill of the blade sent shivers through him. Sweat broke out across his brow.
Luciel's voice was calm, almost lazy. "Good. You understand quickly."
Agu's hands rose slowly, trembling, to show he wouldn't resist.
"You're a smart man," Luciel murmured, the tone steady, emotionless. "And smart men get to live… so long as they behave."
Agu nodded frantically, muffled whimpers vibrating against Luciel's palm.
"Very good." Luciel's voice softened, but somehow that made it worse. "As a reward for your cooperation, I'll tell you a secret."
He leaned close enough that Agu could feel his breath against his ear.
"Your leader," Luciel whispered, "I snapped his neck not long after you left the hall."
For a heartbeat, Agu's mind went blank.
Then the words sank in.
His eyes bulged in shock, his body stiffening like a man struck by lightning. Gooseflesh rippled across his arms.
He had just left the leader's chamber—barely half an hour ago. And now the man was dead.
That meant the killer—this shadow behind him—must have been there the whole time. Watching. Listening.
Luciel chuckled lowly, reading his thoughts. "Yes," he said softly, "just as you're imagining. I was in the hall, watching you all along."
Agu's breath hitched, the sound muffled beneath Luciel's hand.
Luciel had used the same interrogation tone he'd mastered back in his days as a soldier—low, steady, every word calculated to cut through panic and force obedience.
"Now," Luciel said, "you're going to keep calm. Don't turn around. Don't shout. Don't even breathe too loudly."
He slowly lifted his hand from Agu's mouth, though the blade stayed near his throat.
Agu's voice came out trembling. "W-what do you want from me, sir?"
Luciel sheathed the blade. "Nothing," he said simply.
"Nothing…?" Agu blinked, confused, almost hopeful.
Luciel gave a faint shrug. "I just enjoy talking to people who survive by their brains. You're one of them."
Agu didn't know whether to feel flattered or terrified.
"Oh, and one more thing," Luciel added casually, as if remembering something small. "The Bloodbeard spies are dead too. I killed them."
Agu's knees almost buckled. "You—what…?"
Luciel continued, unfazed. "Tomorrow, when Bloodbeard's men arrive and find their spies missing—and your leader lying cold in his hall—tell me, Agu… what do you think they'll do?"
Agu swallowed hard, his throat dry. He could already picture it—Bloodbeard's gang sweeping through the camp, blades flashing, killing everyone for revenge or plunder. Turning the place into a pile of trophies.
Luciel reached down and hefted the sack of dried meat. "Consider this," he said, "your reward for listening."
He walked toward the door, then paused and looked back over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.
"I'll be keeping an eye on you, smart man."
And then he was gone—vanishing like mist in moonlight.
Agu stood frozen, pale as chalk, his breath ragged. Only when the silence settled again did he whisper hoarsely, "Could you… not keep an eye on me, please?"
But of course, no one answered.
He didn't dare move. Not yet. The image of that cold blade at his throat still lingered like a ghost.
---
Meanwhile, Luciel was already several rooms away, his mind calm and efficient. The encounter with Agu had been mostly improvisation—part intimidation, part experiment.
If the man was clever, he'd stir the others into action. If not, well, then Luciel had wasted nothing.
He touched the mental bond between himself and the tricolor lizard, summoning it silently.
Moments later, the creature appeared through the window, claws gripping the wall with ease.
"Good timing," Luciel murmured. "Let's take this meat back."
The lizard hissed softly in reply. Luciel tied the heavy sack to its scaled back, then gave it a gentle pat. "Mino will help unload. Go."
With another hiss, the creature vanished into the night, its colorful body blending perfectly with the dark.
Luciel smiled faintly. "Not bad for a quick trip. Came for water, and ended up with half a storehouse."
Still, water was what he truly needed.
He made his way through the dim corridors until he reached the guarded door near the rear of the compound—the water room.
Two men stood watch outside. Under normal circumstances, they would have been a problem.
But with Luciel's new mimic stealth ability, they might as well have been statues.
He picked up a small pebble and flicked it down the hall. It bounced once, twice, then clattered loudly against a wall. The guards turned their heads immediately.
In that instant, Luciel slipped past them like a shadow.
A quick chop to the neck of one guard dropped him silently to the floor. Luciel caught the man before he fell and dragged him inside, closing the door behind them.
The flickering torchlight revealed a simple room—barrels stacked in the corner, a wooden platform at the center. Beneath the planks was a faint hollow sound.
Luciel knelt and lifted one board.
A circular well mouth yawned beneath, about two meters wide.
"So this is where they draw their water," he murmured.
A wooden bucket hung beside it, tied to a rope. He tossed it in and waited for the splash. The sound that came back was dull—thick, not crisp. When he hauled it up, the bucket was heavy with muddy, yellow-brown water. Sediment clung to the sides.
"As I thought," he sighed. "Nearly dry."
He poured it out and replaced the bucket, covering the well again. Then he turned to the barrels stacked along the wall. Each was nearly as tall as his waist, sealed tight with waxed lids.
When he shook one gently, he heard the slosh of liquid inside.
"Finally," he muttered with satisfaction.
He lifted one barrel onto each shoulder. To anyone else, they would've been unbearably heavy, but to Luciel, the weight was like carrying two loaves of bread.
"That should keep us alive for a while," he said to himself. Then he slipped back into the corridor, silent as smoke.
---
Elsewhere in the compound, Agu still hadn't moved from where Luciel had left him. His legs felt like wood, his mind spinning.
Then came footsteps—fast, frantic.
The door burst open with a crash.
The maid—the same one who'd been helping him earlier—rushed in, pale and breathless. "Agu! The leader—he's dead!"
Agu's head jerked up. "Dead? Truly dead?"
She nodded, eyes wide. "In the hall. His neck—snapped clean in two."
Agu exhaled shakily, his body sagging with sudden release. "So he wasn't lying…" he whispered. "He really did it."
The maid frowned. "Who wasn't lying? What are you talking about?"
But Agu barely heard her. He was replaying every word the mysterious man had said.
'I killed your leader. I killed the Bloodbeard spies.'
If that was true, then the camp was on the edge of disaster.
And the parting words—'I'll be keeping an eye on you, smart man.'
Those chilled him more than anything else.
He turned sharply toward the maid. "If the leader's dead, then the Bloodbeard spies must be too," he muttered. "And if that's true… then Bloodbeard's wrath is coming straight for us."
He began throwing more jerky into another sack, working quickly.
The maid, still in shock, stammered, "Agu, what are you doing? Shouldn't we… shouldn't we escape?"
He froze mid-motion.
Escape. Yes, that had been the plan. Run into the wasteland, far from this doomed camp. But then he remembered that cold voice whispering behind him.
'I'll always be watching you.'
He hesitated, frowning deeply. If I run now… he'll know. He'll find me. Maybe even kill me.
The realization came with a sinking weight in his stomach.
He began to think more carefully. Why had the stranger told him any of this at all?
Why warn him about the Bloodbeard spies or the leader's death?
Unless… unless he wanted Agu to act—to do something.
"To what end?" he whispered to himself. "What's his real plan?"
He thought back to that last chilling line and repeated it under his breath: "I'll always pay attention to you, smart man."
His brow furrowed. "Follow me? How? From the shadows? From among the people?"
He trailed off mid-sentence, realization dawning. "Wait… he wants me to gather people. To stir the camp. To lead them."
If Luciel had wanted everyone here dead, he could've killed Agu outright. But instead, he'd planted fear—and knowledge.
Maybe that was the point.
Agu turned to the maid, his expression suddenly focused, almost fierce. "Go," he ordered. "Find the hunting captains. Tell them I have urgent news—something that concerns the survival of the whole camp!"
The maid blinked, startled by his sudden tone. "O-okay! I'll go!"
As she ran out, Agu let out a slow breath. For the first time since Luciel's attack, his hands steadied.
He laughed bitterly. "So that's it… You call me a smart man, but you're the one pulling the strings."
He glanced toward the door where Luciel had vanished earlier, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Mysterious man… who are you really?"
Outside, the night wind howled over the barren land, carrying the scent of dust and death.
And somewhere in that darkness, Luciel's tricolor lizard crawled across a rooftop, its golden eyes gleaming—watching, just as its master had promised.