Ten minutes earlier.
The camp lay quiet beneath a veil of fading dusk, its distant watch-fires flickering against the barren plain. Outside the palisade, in a small wooden shed built from scavenged boards and scraps of hide, a slender figure busied herself with practiced hands.
Mino worked quickly. Her pale fingers, calloused from survival, moved with precision as she peeled the skins from several small lizards and three field mice. The smell of blood mixed with smoke filled the cramped space. She slit the bellies, scooped out the glistening innards, and tied the carcasses together with thin rope before hanging them above the firepit to smoke.
When she finished, the girl rubbed her palms with coarse sand until the stains faded from her skin. There was no clean water here—only grit, wind, and the will to stay alive.
> "Why has Luciel been gone so long?"
Her voice broke the stillness. She sat back on her heels, staring toward the rough-hewn door, her blue eyes reflecting the dull glow of the coals.
> "He said he'd just check something in the camp… it's been over an hour. Did something happen to him?"
The thought made her chest tighten. She tried to shake it off, but worry crept in like a chill. Out here, danger was as common as dust.
Luciel had always seemed unshakable—confident, sharp-eyed, someone who knew what to do when everything around them crumbled. Compared to him, she felt small, like a sparrow following a hawk through the wasteland.
> "No, he's fine," she murmured quickly, forcing a smile. "Luciel's amazing. Nothing bad will happen to him."
She gave her head a little shake, as if to scatter her own doubts, then looked around the shed to busy herself with a new task.
---
The place was small but precious. Every object inside had a story—each piece of wood scavenged, each scrap of cloth sewn by hand.
> "This pillow… I'll need that."
"And this quilt, made from rabbit skins. It still smells like Big Sis."
"The bed frame's sturdy; I can take it apart later."
"The bowl, the bucket—yes, those too."
As she moved about, her mind filled with soft memories. She and her sister had built this shelter together once, laughing under the cold moonlight. Now her sister was gone, and the laughter with her.
She bit her lip. Even the rough wooden door seemed too dear to leave behind.
Just as she sighed, a faint sound cut through the quiet.
"Creak… click…"
The latch scraped, and the door shuddered. Someone—or something—was outside.
Mino froze. Instinct flared. She slid her hand to her waist, drew the sharpened bone spur, and crouched low by the wall. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
The door swung open. A shadow slipped inside.
> "Who's there?" she demanded, her voice trembling only slightly.
For an instant, nothing moved. Then a dry hiss filled the air.
"Hissss~~"
The shadow shimmered—and a shape emerged from thin air.
A large tricolor lizard stood there, scales shifting from green to red to blue in the torchlight.
Mino's tension faltered, replaced by disbelief.
> "You… you're Skink?"
She blinked, then frowned, as if scolding herself for using the silly nickname she'd given it. After a pause, she said cautiously,
> "If you really are, nod your head."
The creature didn't nod. Instead, it twisted its body and clawed awkwardly at a rope tied around its torso.
Mino sighed.
> "Of course. Who else but Luciel would train a lizard to haul supplies?"
She sheathed the bone spur and hurried over.
> "Alright, alright, hold still. I'll help you."
The lizard stopped struggling and waited, its jewel-bright eyes blinking patiently while she untied the knots. One by one, the loads came free—five thick rolls of cloth, a large wolf pelt, and a sword wrapped in oiled skin.
When it was done, the creature gave a short hiss of satisfaction and turned toward the door, its claws scratching softly against the wood.
> "Hey! Wait—where's Luciel?" Mino called after it.
But the lizard didn't respond. It slithered away and vanished into the darkness.
Mino sighed again, half amused, half exasperated.
> "Guess you don't understand me at all."
---
Her gaze fell to the things it had brought. The girl knelt, running her fingers over the rolls of cloth. The texture was astonishingly smooth—soft, strong, finer than anything she had ever touched.
> "This… this isn't ordinary fabric. It's made from animal hair, maybe from a beast's undercoat. But… five rolls? That's enough for dozens of sets of clothes."
She frowned thoughtfully.
> "Where could Luciel have gotten this?"
Setting the cloth aside, she picked up the wolf pelt. It was heavy and thick, nearly taller than she was. The fur still held the faint scent of wilderness and blood.
> "This must be from a fierce beast," she whispered, awe lighting her eyes. "Even the leader doesn't have one like this."
But awe soon turned to confusion. How could Luciel have obtained all this in just one trip?
> "Could he have gone to see the leader?" she wondered aloud. "Maybe he told him about the Bloodbeard raiders, and this was the reward?"
The thought comforted her—for a moment. It was the only explanation that made sense.
After a while, she set down the pelt and reached for the sword. Its polished blade gleamed even in the dim light.
> "This kind of sword is only used by the hunting team members…"
Her confidence grew.
> "So it's true. Luciel must've earned all this."
---
"Creak… click…"
The door scraped open again. Mino turned, expecting Luciel—but it was the lizard once more, hauling a bulging cloth sack almost as large as itself.
> "Back again?" she said, hurrying to help.
Together, they untied the bag. The lizard gave a low hiss and left, disappearing into the night like before.
Curiosity got the better of her. She opened the sack.
> "What's in here…?"
Then her eyes widened in shock.
> "Eh? Wait—this is all… dried meat?"
The entire bag was packed with it—thick slices of smoked wolf and venison, enough to feed them for weeks.
She froze. The earlier comfort she'd felt shattered instantly.
> "A single report wouldn't make the leader this generous."
A sinking realization crept into her chest.
> "Don't tell me… Luciel stole these things."
She looked again at the treasures piled around her—the cloth, the sword, the pelt, and now the food.
No matter how she thought about it, the camp's stingy leader would never part with so much.
> "He must have gone to the leader's house and taken them."
Her heart raced. If someone came searching, they'd both be executed on the spot.
Moving quickly, she retied the bag and shoved it under the bed, covering it with the quilt.
> "Alright. We'll hide everything tonight and leave before dawn," she muttered under her breath.
She crossed her arms, glaring at the door as though Luciel could hear her through it.
> "Honestly! Even if we're running away, he didn't have to steal so much."
After pacing a few steps, she came up with another idea.
> "Maybe I should move it all tonight. If I stash it behind the Black Tortoise Rock, no one will find it."
She nodded to herself, lips tightening in resolve.
> "Yes, that's safer. When Luciel gets back, I'll tell him."
One by one, she checked each hiding spot, making sure nothing showed. Then she sat down by the firepit again, chin resting on her knees.
Outside, the night wind sighed through the cracks of the shed, carrying the faint echo of distant voices from the camp. Mino hugged her knees tighter.
Return what he'd stolen? The idea flickered through her mind—but she shook her head immediately.
No. Even if Luciel had taken them, she would never give them back.
Out here, survival meant keeping what you could grasp with your own hands.
> "Luciel…" she whispered softly, staring at the faint shimmer of moonlight on the wolf pelt. "Come back soon."