Iris waved goodbye as she looked out and said, "Just wish me luck."
Teruru, who was already trembling with nerves, yelled, "WHY AM I THE CART DRIVERRR?! JUST LET ME SLEEP PLEASEE!"
Iris shouted back, "DONT SCREAM! GO START DRIVING OR ELSE YOU ARE FIRED!"
Teruru whimpered and cried as she took the reins, the cart creaking as it slowly rolled out into the night.
The streets of Portrident were quiet, blanketed in the dim moonlight. The sea breeze carried the faint scent of salt through the narrow lanes. Lamps flickered in the distance.
Back near the guild, Percy looked at Diego, Marcus, Nandita, and Ami. "Okay, we do as we planned," he said, voice low.
He ran toward the stable, Two horses stood restless inside, ears twitching at every sound. Percy led them out slowly, careful not to make any noise. He helped everyone mount, Percy taking one horse with Nandita and Ami behind him, while Marcus and Diego climbed onto the other, Diego holding the reins.
Diego smiled. "Don't worry, this is the same as riding a bull."
Marcus looked tense. "Am I heavy for the horse?"
Percy said, "We are going, follow us."
Nandita held onto Percy tightly while Ami held her shoulders, turning once to wave goodbye to the others.
Diego grinned. "I dunno, but the horse is heavier than you… so it can carry us, I'm sure."
He gripped the lead rope and gave the horse a light tap. The horse neighed loudly and suddenly bolted forward.
Marcus yelled, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"
"I DONT KNOW, THE HORSE IS REACTING VIOLENTLYYY!" Diego shouted as they rushed out of the stable yard, hooves striking against the stone.
—
"Which way?" Dilek asked, his voice a sharp whisper as Anton peeked around a corner, scanning each hallway.
Anton stopped for a quick breath. "I only know the entrance, so we will leave from there," he said quietly.
Dilek froze mid-step. "Oh yes, great. From the entrance where most of the security would be. Amazing plan, old man. You sure you aren't going senile? Because frankly speaking, either you are going senile suggesting that plan, or I am, thinking that it's ridiculous."
Anton gave him a quick look. "Oh yea? Got any better alternatives?"
"What? Me? Weren't you the one saying all the stuff like you will take me out of here? Huh? You suggest."
"Well clearly you are having issues with my plan," Anton said quietly, but with a sharp edge in his tone.
Dilek glanced at his huge hammer, frowning. "Why are you carrying that anyways? It's a distraction, you know… like if we have to hide beneath a table, then what?"
Anton sighed, frustrated, glancing out the nearby window where the faint lantern glow of the walls surrounding the manor flickered. "Can you jump down four floors?"
"Of course not…" Dilek said. "Oh wait, you plan to hold me tight when you jump since you can jump from the fourth floor, right?"
"Not at all," Anton said, still looking outside. "I was planning on throwing you out of here. Seems like I can't."
Dilek stiffened. "Don't make jokes like that."
The corridor light shifted — a guard turned the corner ahead, lantern swinging.
Anton and Dilek froze as the guard stopped, squinting. "Uh… esteemed guests… please go back to your rooms."
The two stayed silent.
As the guard walked off, Anton grabbed Dilek's arm, pulling him toward the wall. They moved quickly, their boots silent against the marble floor. The hammer brushed against a wooden table, making a dull thud.
They slipped into a wide hallway, lit only by the moon, through high arched windows. Their breath came out in quiet bursts. The distant murmur of the maids mixed with the muffled voices of guards somewhere below.
"Next time," Dilek muttered under his breath, "leave the hammer."
Anton shook his head slightly, eyes focused ahead. "No chance."
They pressed on, ducking into a side passage as another pair of guards passed. The manor seemed endless, dark halls, painted walls catching faint torchlight, the faint hum of the wind outside.
—
Moonlight still spilled through the tall windows of Duke Castorik's study.
Papers littered the desk — maps, reports, and torn records — all bearing one missing name.
"Jonah…" Castorik muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. "He isn't in the guild's records."
He exhaled sharply, the sound of his breath cutting through the quiet. "Did Iris remove his records? Did she suspect me?"
His voice rose suddenly. "I swear—"
He stopped himself, forcing a slow breath as his tone lowered again. "Why is she hiding him? Does she think I'm sending Jonah as a rising star? Should I tell—"
He froze mid-thought, eyes narrowing.
"No… I can't tell her my plan. I'll just have to find Jonah and convince him myself."
A knock came at the door.
"What is it?" Castorik said sharply. "Come in."
Diana stepped inside, her usual composure faltering slightly. "Duke… there's an unexpected visitor."
"What?" Castorik frowned. "Send them away. I'm busy."
Before Diana could answer, another voice spoke from behind her.
"Are you duke?"
Castorik's eyes flicked up — and there she was.
Iris stood beside Diana, calm as moonlight.
Castorik's smirk returned immediately. "Well, what a surprise. The one kid I least expected to show up."
Iris smiled faintly. "Oh? Is that so?"
"Why don't you take a seat," Castorik said, gesturing toward the couch. "I have a few questions."
"Me too." She smiled again and sat down.
Castorik turned to Diana. "Get us some drinks." Then, as he brushed past her, he whispered low enough that only she could hear,
"Go get more spies. Search the guild office again for Jonah's files. Since Iris is here, this is our best chance."
Diana nodded silently and slipped out of the room.
Castorik took his seat across from Iris, his expression calm once more.
"First of all," he began, "let me say something — I'm really glad about this year's raid. Sure, there were casualties, but not many were deeply injured."
Iris nodded politely. "Ah yes, of course. Truly, our guild works hard. I'm happy the Duke is pleased."
Castorik rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "I'm especially glad for you. I heard you were struggling to manage the guild… seeing how Petra isn't around."
Iris's smile twitched. "Of course. But she expected me to do my best, and I will."
"I heard it's tough there," Castorik continued casually. "A five-star quest, right?"
"Yes," Iris replied. "But I'm sure Petra can handle it. She's far stronger than most in the empire. Honestly, she could make a good Count."
Castorik's eyes narrowed, his smile tightening. "Oh, I'm sure."
Iris turned her gaze to the moonlight outside. "Who knows," she murmured, "she might become a Duke someday."
Castorik's eye twitched — but his grin didn't fade. "I'm sure she's just that capable. But you know… people are saying that quest is nearly six-star. Quite dangerous. I just hope Petra returns in one piece."
Iris's smile faltered. "Let's move on from that topic."
"Of course." Castorik chuckled. "Don't take it personally. I only meant—"
"I understand," Iris interrupted through gritted teeth, forcing her smile back. "I was about to ask my part. May I?"
Castorik leaned back, his grin now wickedly amused.
"Sure," he said softly. "Why not?"
—
Anton and Dilek went down the stairs to the manor's second floor. The marble was cold beneath their feet, the silence broken only by the faint echo of their steps.
"Hey, old man…" Dilek said suddenly. "You from Earth?"
Anton stopped mid-step, turning his head. "What? How did you know?"
Dilek grinned. "Ah, so I was right. Well, I've been thinking — a lot of people here don't find our existence weird. And 'Anton'... sounds pretty Scandinavian, doesn't it?"
Anton gave him a curious look. "I see… but what do you mean by 'people don't find us weird'?"
"Our existence," Dilek said, shrugging. "If a bunch of people showed up wearing strange clothes, speaking a bit differently, and suddenly joined guilds or took odd jobs — shouldn't people question it? But they don't."
Anton looked ahead again as they walked. "I don't know either," he admitted. "But I have a theory."
"Huh? Go on."
"Normalcy," Anton said simply. "Humans have this… thing. A habit of making sense of everything, no matter how strange it is."
"Normalcy?"
"Yes. Normalcy bias." Anton's tone grew thoughtful. "Let's say you saw a video of an green alien. A real one. You'd look at it and think, 'It must be CGI, AI, or a really good costume.' You'd rather believe it's fake than accept something impossible."
Dilek scoffed. "Aliens aren't green, old man."
"Shut up," Anton muttered, continuing. "The point is — people don't like things that break their understanding of the world. So they find excuses to make them seem ordinary. That's how they stay sane."
He paused, glancing toward the moonlight spilling through a nearby window.
"The same goes for people here. They see us and assume we're from another country. Or nobles in disguise. Or travelers. Anything that fits what they already know."
Dilek chuckled softly. "So basically, they see something impossible — and explain it away."
Anton nodded. "Exactly. Because humans need the world to make sense. Even when it doesn't."
He looked down the long, dim corridor, as he muttered under his breath.
"Let's hope they don't start now."