Chapter 124: The Deserter and the Inquisitor

Chapter 124: The Deserter and the Inquisitor

Three days later, an army of the Holy Nation occupied the City of Seven Lamps.

The Archon surrendered with full honors, laying down his arms to keep his position. The streets and alleys were in complete chaos as crowds surged toward the city gates, only to be shocked to find the roads in and out sealed off.

The Knight Order posted wanted notices with bounties for the Griffin Legion's stragglers. All the inns were given a thorough search. Anyone who resisted was thrown into jail, no exceptions. The city jail was suddenly packed to the brim, leaving its usual patrons—also regulars at the Rusty Anchor—at a loss, wandering the streets aimlessly.

The Knight Order imposed a strict curfew on the City of Seven Lamps. With nothing else to do, the thieves holed up at the Rusty Anchor, playing cards through the night. Even the Rat Gang, utterly bored, hung around the main roads in and out of the city, baring their teeth at every soldier who passed.

Maybe it was the pardon certificate Cornelis had hung by the door that did the trick. The squad sent to inspect the Rusty Anchor only took a quick lap around the main hall, praised the inn's cleanliness ("Not a single rat—pretty good."), turned down the ale Ingrid offered ("Still on duty—can't drink."), brushed off Cornelis's flirtatious winks ("Sir, got an itch in your eye?"), and then left.

Ingrid stood at the inn's door, waving a handkerchief as they left, calling out that they were welcome to come by for a drink when off duty.

The second the soldiers were out of sight, Ingrid's face dropped. She snapped at the guests irritably for a bit (everyone was used to it), then turned and headed to the cellar to let Aether out.

Afraid of being exposed during inspections, Aether had to spend his days in the cellar, keeping company with carrots, potatoes, and cabbages. Only at night was he allowed out to stretch his legs. This gave Aether a painless taste of prison life.

"Come out, they're gone."

Aether crawled out of the cellar and followed Ingrid to the backyard. He picked a spider off his hair and set it on the stable fence nearby. The spider waved its eight long legs and vanished in a flash.

Just then, Cornelis pushed the back door open and walked in. Ingrid jumped, reflexively reaching for the dagger hidden under her skirt. Seeing it was just her brother, she rolled her eyes.

"Can't you walk in through the front door like a normal person?!"

"This is my house—I'll come in through any door I damn well please!"

A man who was a regular card player at the inn just happened to step out of the outhouse. He walked past without so much as a glance and muttered dryly, "See what I told you—he likes the 'back entrance.'"

Ingrid chucked her dagger at the man. He yelped and ran off. The blade sank deep into the stable's doorpost.

Cornelis shook his head and, reaching back, bolted the door shut. Aether noticed he was carrying several rolled-up papers in his arms.

"What are those?" he asked.

"Wanted posters."

Cornelis handed one roll to Ingrid. She yanked it open and read aloud: "Wanted: Griffin Legion stragglers."

The poster had detailed drawings of the legion's insignia and battle cries, urging the citizens of the City of Seven Lamps to come forward with any leads. Catching a soldier would net you 10 gold coins; catching an officer, 100. On the flip side, hiding Griffin Legion fugitives meant the whole family gets hanged—and the neighbors get executed as accomplices too.

"Ridiculous! I'd love to see who'd actually rat anyone out!" Ingrid angrily ripped the poster to shreds. "They might get their gold, but the next day I'd make sure their corpse turns up in some alley!"

"Uh..." Cornelis stared ruefully at the shredded paper all over the floor. "The Archon's requiring every inn to put these up. I just got them from the town hall..."

The siblings exchanged an awkward look. Ingrid picked up the scraps with a sweet smile: "I'll tape it back together real pretty for you, dear brother."

Cornelis let her have her little puzzle. He turned to Aether: "They're not after deserters. Maybe they think you're dead."

If only that were true, Aether thought to himself. Once his wounds healed, he could sneak back into the Holy Nation and get in touch with the Inquisition.

"I can't stay here any longer," he said. "Someone could come searching at any moment. Your pardon certificate might help, but..."

"You don't trust our people-hiding skills?" Cornelis asked. "We once hid a thief in the cellar for six months straight. The Sheriff came in for a drink three times and never had a clue."

"I can't have you two risking yourselves for me anymore," Aether said quietly. "We're strangers who just happened to cross paths—enemies from opposing nations, no less—and yet you've helped me this much. I don't know how to thank you."

"When you make it big someday, just send us some money." Ingrid was blunt. "That way we can open a proper shop. Maybe I could run a clothing store." She toyed with her hair, lost in daydreams.

Aether did have some savings in a bank in the Holy City. In all his years as an inquisitor, he'd barely spent his salary. He could send it all to the siblings, letting them leave their life of crime behind, leave the City of Seven Lamps, and live openly and honestly from then on.

Cornelis thought for a moment. "If you really want to leave, that's doable. This area was just searched—they probably won't do another sweep for a while. You could call it a blind spot. Leave now, while you can, and maybe you'll break through the Holy Nation's blockade."

Ingrid looked up from the paper scraps: "Then I'll have Conrad go into the city to buy supplies. Speaking of which, where has that little brat run off to today?"

Cornelis frowned: "He's been hanging around nearby lately, muttering about going back to Starfall City."

"Ha? Is he insane?"

Cornelis mimicked the boy's tone: "'Everyone thinks Starfall City is unsafe, so I should do the opposite. Since people are fleeing, that means the ecological niche is wide open—perfect for us to move in...'"

"Ecological niche... where did he learn a word like that? From you? Since when are you so educated?"

Aether lowered his head: "I taught him."

The siblings stared at him in speechless disbelief.

Suddenly, the bolted back door erupted with a thunderous pounding. Someone was hammering on it with the force of a battering ram.

Cornelis exchanged a glance with his sister and pulled the dagger from the wooden post. He gripped it in reverse, hidden behind his back, and crept toward the back door.

"Who is it?" he demanded sharply.

"It's me—Misha!" came a little girl's anxious voice from outside.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes! Open the door, Mr. Cornelis! Something's happened to Conrad!"

Aether and Cornelis exchanged a look. Moving silently, Cornelis positioned himself by the door and yanked open the bolt.

With a thud, a small girl stumbled into the yard. Cornelis immediately raised his dagger, wary of anyone behind her. Finding the outside empty, he shot Aether a quick glance. The golden-haired inquisitor slammed the door shut with lightning speed.

"What happened?" Cornelis switched the dagger to his left hand and helped Misha up with one arm.

The girl's face was dirty, streaked with dust, with two white tear tracks stark beneath her eyes.

"We were on the street, and suddenly a man grabbed Conrad, said he was a thief..."

"Conrad stole something?" Cornelis frowned.

"No! Conrad called the man a thief instead—said he'd stolen his boots..."

Cornelis clutched his forehead and let out a helpless groan. Aether didn't understand the context and looked to him for an explanation.

"It's those deserters up in the mountains," Cornelis explained. "Conrad had a run-in with them before. I told him not to mess with those types..."

"Conrad hasn't gone up to the mountains since!" Misha sobbed, defending her gang leader. "That man came down himself... all on his own..."

Ingrid dropped the paper scraps and stood up gravely: "It must be because the Holy Nation soldiers are searching nearby. The deserters are afraid of being caught, so they've come down to surrender on their own."

Before she finished speaking, Conrad's scream came from the front of the inn: "Let go! Aren't you ashamed, bullying a kid?!"

"Now he knows he's a kid!"

Ingrid pulled the dagger from the wooden post, hid it behind her back, and rushed toward the main hall. Aether moved to follow, but Cornelis stopped him with a hand.

He silently pointed upstairs. The two of them slipped inside and climbed to the second floor. Cornelis's footsteps were as light as a cat's. Aether's body had only just recovered, but years of combat had left him with sharp muscle memory, allowing him to tread with practiced, silent steps across the creaking stairs.

They entered an empty guest room and quietly lifted the curtain.

A large crowd had gathered at the front door of the inn. A burly man with a scarred face was holding Conrad up like a chicken about to be slaughtered. Conrad struggled desperately, his short legs flailing in midair, but to no avail.

Behind the scarred man followed a squad of soldiers. They were not Dawnlight Knights; the surcoats over their armor were embroidered with the crest of three white mountains.

"The Cold Mountain Duke's soldiers!" Cornelis exclaimed in surprise.

Aether's gaze as he stared below gradually turned cold. Though the Cold Mountain Duke was nominally an ally of the Holy Nation, no one had any fondness for a traitor who sold out his own country and kin.

"Welcome, sir, welcome to our humble establishment! My, why is everyone so tense? You're scaring little old me!"

Ingrid greeted these uninvited guests with a shrill, affected laugh. When necessary, she could become exceedingly vivacious and charming.

The scarred man looked her up and down, then turned to whisper to the squad leader beside him: "This is the place, no doubt about it! This little thief belongs to this establishment! The fugitive must be hiding here!"

Conrad shrieked: "You're talking nonsense, may your mouth rot with sores! I wouldn't set foot in this dump if you paid me... Ah!"

The scarred man slapped Conrad across the face. The boy let out a shriek and passed out.

Aether unconsciously clenched the curtain. Were they looking for him? But he had never seen that scarred man before. Since Cornelis and his sister had taken him in, he hadn't even set foot outside the inn's front door...

The scarred man continued to the squad leader: "Sir, that day I was ambushed by this little thief and a black-haired woman. I didn't get a good look at her face, but that black hair I saw clearly! They're in cahoots! The black-haired woman must be hiding in this inn!"

Cornelis cursed under his breath.

"What black-haired woman?" Aether asked.

"The Cold Mountain Duke has been hunting a black-haired woman, claiming she's a fugitive." Cornelis let out a cold snort. "There was indeed a black-haired girl hiding in our inn before..."

"She's the fugitive?"

Cornelis suddenly shot Aether a glare. The look was as cold as a blade, radiating murderous intent. The Inquisitor instinctively stepped back, as if that look alone had pierced him.

"She's not." The Chief of the Thieves' Guild said flatly.

Downstairs, Ingrid laughed loudly: "Oh my, so the officer likes black-haired ladies! We've got redheads, blondes, brunettes—all top-notch lookers! And if you don't want ladies, we've got those as well..."

"Cut the chatter!" the squad leader cut her off with disdain, as if looking at something filthy.

He tilted his head and asked the scarred man: "You're sure it's here?"

"Would I dare lie? I'm hoping to make up for my crimes!" The scarred man grinned obsequiously. "This place is a thieves' den! Sir, you might even find a nice little bonus!"

The squad leader showed no kindness to the scarred man either, but he believed his words. He made a sweeping gesture to his men: "Search the place!"

Ingrid's expression changed drastically. She quickly pointed to the ornate picture frame hanging by the door: "We're devout followers of the God of Dawn! Look, we even bought indulgence certificates! How can you suspect good folks like us for no reason? If you act rashly, I'll go to the priest for justice!"

The soldiers hesitated in front of the golden frame, turning back to the squad leader, waiting for new orders.

Now that the Knights had occupied Seven Lamps City, though nominally assisting the "temporary regent" Cold Mountain Duke in maintaining domestic order, everyone knew the Holy Nation was the real power behind the throne. The Knights might well favor their own believers.

"Didn't you hear me!" the squad leader roared. "Can followers of the God of Dawn harbor fugitives? Indulgence certificates—anyone with money can buy those. These rabble are just using the god's name to bully folks! Doesn't scare me! Go get 'em!"

Even if they didn't find the fugitive... the squad leader sneered inwardly, figuring innkeepers were rarely clean, usually mixed up in some illegal business. Even if they found no fugitive, they'd find other evidence. The innkeeper would be too afraid to protest, and might even bribe him. Either way, he'd come out on top!

The soldiers rushed forward. Ingrid was shoved down. She slammed hard into the wall, the frame holding the indulgence certificates wobbled once or twice, then fell with a crack and shattered beside her.

The patrons playing cards in the inn were scattered among the uneven wooden tables. Seeing a group of soldiers storming in, their movements froze in unison, cups half-raised. Some still had hands frozen midair; others were bringing cups to their lips.

The Thieves' Guild members exchanged glances. The next second, with a clatter of metal, everyone pulled out their weapons—some pulled short blades from under tables, some yanked daggers from boots, others grabbed candlesticks from the tables, yanked out the candles, and used the holders as weapons.

The soldiers overturned the tables in the hall, sending cards, dice, chips, and cups raining to the floor. None of the thieves were pushovers—they vaulted over the overturned tables, and in an instant, both sides clashed.

In the candlelight, blades flashed and clashed in a chaotic mess. Daggers tore through surcoats, iron boots crushed glass, one thief crashed into a wine rack, sending bottles smashing to the ground. A soldier was caught between two thieves, and a third kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him flying backward into the bar's edge.

But even with their agility, the thieves were no match for the trained soldiers. Soon, more than half of them were down.

"A bunch of rabble—just as I thought, a thieves' den!" the squad leader stormed into the inn. "Search everywhere! Don't leave a single corner unturned!"

He personally kicked open the kitchen door. The soldiers filed in, sweeping cheese, sausages, and black bread off the shelves.

A soldier dragged the cook out, her stumbling and scrambling. The man who always called the inn a whorehouse rushed to her aid and took a heavy punch to the face. He fell backward onto the floor, spitting out a bloody tooth.

In the second-floor guest room. Cornelis grabbed Aether's wrist: "You've got to go! Even though they're not after you, you can't stay here!"

Aether gritted his teeth: "But you all..."

"I've survived worse. Go, take my horse!"

The hall and kitchen were in shambles. Beer and mead pooled on the floor, mixed with shards of tableware and mud tracked in by boots, turning the hall floor into a wet, sticky swamp.

The squad leader cursed as he prepared to lead his soldiers upstairs to search. Suddenly, his feet became impossibly heavy, and he couldn't move a step.

"What the hell..."

The squad leader looked down and found his feet seized by two small hands.

The children of the Rat Gang had appeared from nowhere, trying to hold back the soldiers with their tiny bodies.

"Damn brats! Get off!" The squad leader kicked one child down the stairs, then bent and backhanded a second across the face.

Whoosh—

A dagger flew in from outside the door. The squad leader dodged hastily. The silver flash grazed his ear, shearing off a few strands of hair, and embedded itself deep into the door panel behind him, sinking inches into the wood.

"Get out of my house!"

Ingrid crawled in from the doorway, right hand raised, still in the throwing position.

The squad leader spat, drew the longsword at his hip, and strode toward her over the debris and spilled drink.

Ingrid's eyes widened, the cold gleam of steel reflected in her pupils.

*

Cornelis dragged Aether downstairs and pushed him into the back courtyard.

The back door rattled violently—someone was slamming into it from outside, the thunderous sound like a death toll. Dust showered down, and the bolt groaned in agony.

"There are soldiers out back too." Cornelis's eyes flickered. "When the door opens, ride out and don't look back. I'll hold them off."

"But..."

"Enough!" The young Chief of the Thieves' Guild untied a horse and shoved the reins into Aether's hands.

Aether closed his eyes in anguish.

Everything from that night flashed before him again.

Nashel, gravely wounded, drenched in blood, yet still laughing at him. He swung his sword to cut the rock beneath his feet, and turned back to him in silence—

——Farewell, my sun.

The same thing was happening again—exactly the same as before. He was being shielded, forced to watch others take up blades in his defense. All he could do was scramble away in disgrace, clinging to his miserable life.

He should cherish this life—it was bought with the lives of the people who loved him most in the world, and whom he loved most back. He still had a mission: to return to the Holy City, expose the truth, and take revenge on those who had taken everything from him.

But...

If he abandoned his savior now and fled, leaving those who suffered injustice behind...

"Then what kind of person am I..."

"What did you say?!" Cornelis pressed anxiously.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp gaze land on him.

Aether opened his eyes. In his sky-blue pupils blazed a fervent light that Cornelis had never seen before—reminding the young chief of the thieves' guild of the dazzling fire within a flawless diamond he had once stolen many years ago, and evoking the instant the rising sun leapt above the horizon.

Radiant and blinding, blazing with boundless brilliance.