During those two days, Bido’s party barely moved.
Time inside the inn passed slowly.
Some were resting,
and some seemed to be doing nothing at all,
but not one of them had completely let go.
They kept their ventures outside to a minimum,
and avoided unnecessary contact.
Meals were taken quietly at set times,
and everyone spoke noticeably less.
Bido spent most of his time inside his room.
With the door closed,
his sword at his side, he repeated the same movements.
He did not draw Mirkin up deeply.
Instead, very shallowly,
he handled the power as if touching the surface of water with his fingertips.
Sometimes the sword responded,
and sometimes nothing happened at all.
He did not consciously dwell on the difference.
The repetition continued,
and the moments when he stopped were brief.
Aslo did not enter that room often.
He spent more time simply standing for a long while before the door.
He did not look inside,
nor did he offer advice.
He merely waited until Bido stopped on his own,
then left without a word.
The training now was not something to be guided,
but closer to something to be watched over and waited through.
Miryeong increased the time she spent alone.
She would stand with her eyes closed,
or sit leaning against the wall.
There was almost no movement,
but the same scene was repeating in her mind.
Distance, angle, speed.
She adjusted her position from when she had faced Lina over and over again.
Emotion did not intrude on that process.
Anger,
and hesitation were both excluded.
The decisive battle inside her head
had already ended several times.
Rangnan and Muryeong spent their time in the quietest part of the inn.
Their conversations were usually not long,
and most of them were closer to confirming the situation.
On the premise they already shared,
they erased the possible cases one by one.
Which choice remained was not important.
The only question was which choice to discard.
Their decisions were not recorded,
and were left in a state where they could change at any time if necessary.
Erdin and Mendel tried not to leave the inn.
Instead, the number of times they ran into the innkeeper increased.
There were several disputes over the room fees and meal costs,
and each time, the ends of their words trailed off.
There were attempts to pass it off as a joke, but they did not last long.
The laughter was brief,
and the calculations were always exact.
The city outside the inn was no different from usual.
The market opened, and people came and went.
Rumors did circulate,
but they pointed in every direction.
Inside the city, the day was still passing as if nothing were wrong.
The Empire’s gaze stood apart from that flow.
The surveillance continued,
but there was no sign of impatience.
From time to time, people came to the inn,
and formal greetings and brief confirmations were exchanged.
There were no threats,
and no warnings.
Only the visits repeated,
and each time, the length of their stay varied slightly.
The very fact that there was no movement was reported,
and those reports were received as though they were enough.
Two days passed like that.
Some were preparing,
and some were watching.
And the space laid between them
remained as it was, with nothing happening.
But inside the inn, the luggage had already been packed,
and the necessary things had been placed within reach.
No one had spoken of preparing to leave,
but everything had already been finished.
Night had not yet come.
And yet there was no time left to turn back.
It was around the time the lights of the inn began to go out one by one.
A knight hurried inside.
“Sir Adel. They’re moving.”
Adel paused for a moment,
then answered without turning his head.
“Leave the priest behind. Leave the attendant as he is.”
The knight’s breath caught briefly.
“Prepare.”
That was enough.
The knight withdrew,
and Adel picked up his sword.
There was no ceremony, and no explanation.
Night had already arrived.
—
The city was already behind them.
Bido’s party was walking along a forest path.
The earth beneath their feet still held the heat of the day,
and the air had settled coldly around them.
When the wind died down,
the sound of water reached them first.
It was a river.
Its current was steady,
and its voice was low.
The water continued along the edge of the forest as if guiding the way.
The light of the full moon did not hide the forest.
Even in the middle of the night, the path was bright,
and the shadows of the branches were distinct.
There was nowhere to hide beneath this moonlight.
It was bright enough for every single footstep to be revealed.
The shadows were not deep,
and the darkness was thin.
The moonlight broke first upon the river.
Whenever the ripples shook, the light shattered,
seeming to scatter beneath their feet.
That light was less like brightness than “exposure.”
The brush of clothing,
the small sounds of equipment touching,
even the moments when they steadied their breathing all seemed to be laid bare.
Bido unconsciously shortened his stride.
If he stepped too far, his shadow would grow larger,
and if his shadow grew larger, he felt it would stand out even more.
They did not use the darkness.
Because on this night, darkness had not been permitted to begin with.
The party walked along the river.
There was no talking, and their pace was steady.
Erdin was the first to speak.
“We were careful,”
he continued, glancing toward the river.
“I just… hope they don’t catch up.”
Miryeong did not answer.
Instead, she quietly bit her lip.
Under the moonlight, even that small movement was visible.
Bido was moving his feet when
he felt a very faint discomfort.
It was a sensation of pressure from inside his body.
A pressure similar to when he used Mirkin.
Though he had not used it, it felt as if it was already touching him.
As if sensing that gaze, Rangnan spoke.
“I told you, but do not use Mirkin today.”
His voice was low, but firm.
“It won’t come out properly right now. If you force it, pain will follow.”
Miryeong added briefly.
“That paladin bastard won’t be able to use Mirkin anyway.”
Bido nodded.
“Yes.”
His answer was short,
but the tightness deep in his chest did not disappear.
Even when he drew in a deep breath,
the feeling of something being blocked remained.
Then Mendel turned her gaze toward the river.
She raised her hand and made a very small gesture,
as if disturbing the ripples.
At that, the river swelled once in a large surge.
The sound of water grew louder for a moment, then sank again.
“This,”
Mendel said quietly.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”
Aslo looked at her and said,
“Be careful.”
“Too much power can injure even yourself.”
Mendel did not answer and lowered her hand.
Muryeong said nothing from beginning to end.
Under the moonlight, only his shadow stretched long along the riverbank.
His footsteps were steady, and his gaze was fixed ahead.
The river continued to flow, and the forest was quiet.
The night of the full moon had already come to their side.
Miryeong’s nose reacted first.
It moved very faintly, as if cutting through the air.
Then her ears twitched once.
Without stopping, she said,
“Erdin.”
Her voice was low and no different from usual.
“It doesn’t look like your wish is going to come true.”
The party’s footsteps slowed for the briefest moment.
“…Already,”
Miryeong continued.
“They’ve caught up.”
Even at those words, no one reacted greatly.
There was no surprise, and no cursing.
Only a few gazes naturally drifted back,
then returned forward again.
There was still distance between them.
It was not close enough to sense clearly,
but no one doubted Miryeong’s words.
“Are we all right?”
Erdin asked.
“They’re still far.”
Miryeong answered.
“Their speed is steady too.”
A moment of silence passed.
Then only the sound of footsteps and the river continued.
Rangnan broke that silence.
“We continue as we are.”
It was a firm decision.
No reason was explained.
“Miryeong.”
He continued.
“Keep watching their movements.”
Miryeong nodded.
“If they move first,”
Rangnan added,
“we stop for a moment then.”
He said one last thing.
“We proceed according to plan.”
The party walked on again at the same pace.
The river did not change its flow, and the forest was quiet.
The presence following from behind was still buried in the night.
Some time passed.
Just as it seemed nothing had changed except the sound of the river,
Miryeong’s steps faltered by the slightest margin.
Her nose reacted first,
and her ears moved after it.
With her head tilted slightly,
she spoke briefly.
“That one’s charging ahead alone again.”
There was no surprise in her tone.
It sounded closer to confirmation.
“It’s the paladin.”
Miryeong added.
“He’s fast.”
Rangnan made his judgment immediately.
And with his gaze still forward, he said quietly,
“As expected.”
“Prepare.”
The moment those words fell, the party scattered.
There was no hesitation.
Mendel was the first to turn, moving quickly toward the river.
Then she lowered her steps, measuring the distance to the water’s edge.
It was a movement that checked both the current and the terrain at the same time.
Miryeong gestured toward Bido and Erdin.
There were no words.
The three of them immediately moved to the opposite side from the direction of pursuit.
A point where the forest shadows overlapped,
a position where the field of vision split.
Before them,
Aslo, Muryeong,
and Rangnan stepped forward.
The three did not slow down.
If anything, they moved a little farther ahead.
Rather than blocking the path,
they chose to stand where they would be seen first.
They did not avoid him, nor did they hide.
The river continued to flow, and the full moon’s light still illuminated the path.
The night did not conceal them, and the forest kept its silence.
The paladin was not yet visible.
But everyone already knew he was approaching.