Arku still carried the smell of smoke.
Rumors that the Council had exploded had already circled the entire city.
In the marketplace, at the well, in front of taverns—the same words were repeated.
“The Council blew up, they say.”
“There’s a lot of casualties too.”
And after that, the same name always followed.
“The Eunwoldan.”
“They say they used explosives.”
Someone shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.
“The people of the moon did something like that? No way.”
But someone across from him immediately cut in.
“It’s not ‘no way.’ The Council is gone now.”
People’s voices grew rougher.
Fear sharpened the edges of their words.
The smell of smoke caught in their throats.
Even as they coughed,
they closed their mouths tighter.
If someone spoke,
who was listening,
and who would remember?
Eyes became knives first.
Unable to slash one another,
they turned to stabbing each other instead.
There weren’t many guards on the streets.
Most had gone to the destruction site.
Busy carrying stretchers, clearing collapsed stones, and putting out flames,
the inside of the city looked emptier instead.
And yet,
the tension had not dissipated.
The remaining guards stood at every alley entrance.
They did not smile.
Their hands did not stray far from their spears and sword hilts.
“Hold it.”
A passing civilian was caught in a sudden inspection.
The guards rummaged through his bag, lifted his coverings, and turned his wrist.
“The reason you’re heading this way?”
“Who did you meet?”
The questions became too many.
As people answered, they lowered their voices.
Averted their eyes.
Sized each other up.
—
Shortly after,
posters began to be pasted on a wall at one side of the square.
A constable nailed the papers in place.
The new paper was still white,
but the writing upon it was black and bold.
People gathered.
“What does it say?”
“Eunwoldan….”
Someone read the poster aloud.
“Rewards for information related to the Eunwoldan.”
Instantly, the murmur swelled again.
“Rewards for information?”
“Ah, so they really mean to catch them now.”
“Reward….”
Someone chewed on that word alone.
Once the word “money” was attached,
the texture of the murmur changed.
The sound of fear flipping into anger,
and anger flipping into greed.
People looked at each other’s faces longer.
‘Does that person know something?’
‘Isn’t that person suspicious?’
From then on, the poster was no longer paper,
but a spear thrust into the center of the city.
In that crowd, one person was quietly reading the poster.
His expression feigned indifference,
but his breathing was not steady enough.
His fingertips brushed the edge of the paper, then soon fell away.
And gritting his teeth once,
he squeezed out through the people without a word.
Leaving the square,
he hid his body in the narrowest alley.
A place where sunlight did not reach.
The shadow between walls.
He turned around briefly.
It seemed no one was following him.
And yet,
his back itched.
It wasn’t people following him,
but the feeling of gazes following.
The further the noise of the square faded, the clearer that sensation became.
He rubbed his palm against his clothes.
Sweat glistened.
The words of the poster were not merely fixed before his eyes,
but pressed down blackly inside his head too.
‘Talking turns into money.’
That single line—
that it would make the city move even faster—
he knew all too well.
His steps gradually grew faster.
The poster’s words—
felt like they kept following him from behind.
“Hey, you there.”
He tried not to stop—
but eventually stopped.
It was the constabulary.
They approached slowly, gripping the hilts of the swords at their waists.
Every footfall was crisp.
“Why the rush?”
One constable swept his gaze over the man’s hands and clothes.
“Hold on. Let’s see your things.”
The moment the constable’s hand touched the bag strap,
he inhaled and held his breath.
The city had already taught him
that getting caught meant the end.
“Hurry.”
A low urging
was sharper than a blade.
—
Inside the Eunwoldan, it was bustling.
Someone ran down the corridor carrying a heavy box,
and someone tied up and organized sacks of provisions.
The sound of panting and footsteps overlapped.
They were movements preparing to leave.
The rock door to the record room was open.
Inside, Yoon and Lord Rangnan were talking in low voices.
Yoon spoke.
“We can’t burn these records.”
Rangnan stared at the pile of papers for a long while before answering.
“Right. But… we can’t let them fall into Imperial hands either.”
Yoon nodded.
“I’ll block the entrance. Let’s turn it into a wall.”
She tucked several folders into her arms.
“Then let’s go, Rangnan.”
The two exited the record room.
Rangnan gave short orders to the member in front of the door.
“Seal it.”
The member placed his hand on the rock door.
Short Arkin movements followed,
and the rocks slowly shifted to fill the gap.
The open entrance became a wall.
After that,
Yoon and Rangnan walked down the corridor.
And they found Aslo ahead.
His clothes were soiled with dust,
but no noticeable injuries were visible.
Aslo looked at Rangnan and opened his mouth.
“Lord Rangnan.”
He seemed to read the situation from the surrounding atmosphere alone.
“What should we do now?”
Rangnan was silent for a moment, then opened his mouth.
“First… prepare.”
Even after uttering those words,
Rangnan did not move immediately.
The sound of boxes colliding at the end of the corridor.
The sound of someone shouting, “Careful!” in a low voice.
Preparations to leave had already begun,
yet it felt like only the decision remained.
Aslo wanted to speak once more.
He wanted to say how much the outside had been turned upside down.
But Rangnan’s silence was the answer first.
Now was the time
to tighten the lines rather than speak.
—
As Rangnan walked the corridor again, Bido approached.
“Lord Rangnan. Is there nothing I can do?”
The air within the Eunwoldan was still heavy.
People moved busily,
and no one stood in one place for long.
Yet Bido alone sat with his hands clenched,
unable to bear remaining still.
Raen spoke from beside him.
“Me too! I want to help too!”
Mireong, standing beside Bido, still looked drained,
but her eyes were already alive.
Mireong opened her mouth first.
“Rangnan… I’m sorry. If only I hadn’t let my guard down….”
Rangnan shook his head.
“It’s no one’s fault.”
And he looked straight at Mireong, speaking low.
“Don’t waver.”
“There are those who want to make us blame each other.”
“That is what they want.”
Mireong bit her lip.
Rangnan’s gaze swept over Mireong’s face.
“Your body.”
“I’m fine thanks to Bido,”
Mireong said.
“Right now I’m just… a bit tired.”
Mireong’s words were strong at the end,
but her breath caught once.
She raised her head as if trying to hide it.
“Tell me if there’s something to do.”
As if drawing out words difficult to speak,
Rangnan hesitated briefly.
“If possible… we need to secure the informants remaining in Arku.”
Bido’s heart reacted first.
“I’ll do it!”
Mireong placed a hand on Bido’s shoulder.
“Bido. You keep saying you’ll do everything.”
And she looked at Rangnan.
“I’ll go. I know that bastard’s scent.”
“Me too….”
Bido continued.
“Take me too.”
Mireong laughed like a sigh.
“Alright. I’ll need someone to watch my back.”
Mireong’s eyes brushed past Rangnan.
Rangnan seemed to think briefly.
And finally nodded.
“…Make it short. Leave no traces.”
“I want to go too!”
Raen raised his hand.
Mireong looked at Raen.
“You stay here and help Rangnan. We’re not going to play, kid.”
Raen pouted and slapped his tail on the floor.
Yoon spoke with a quiet smile.
“Raen. Then won’t you help us a bit?”
Raen looked up at Yoon.
“…Hmm. Yes. Alright.”
Seeing that sight, Bido and Mireong
smiled for just a very brief moment.
Truly, it was only a moment.
Mireong nodded toward Bido.
“Bido. Follow me. Let’s prepare and go.”
Bido nodded and followed behind Mireong.
—
Bido followed Mireong, made simple preparations, and headed toward the emergency escape passage.
The two wrapped themselves in cloaks
and pulled their hoods deep over their heads.
It was a narrow passage where even breath bounced off the walls.
As they walked, Mireong spoke low.
“Because of my hair color, I always stand out, you know.”
Bido answered cautiously.
“Yes… I thought Haraya usually had dark or leaf-green hair.”
“That’s right.”
Mireong laughed shortly.
“Usually, yes. Mureong and I are the strange ones.”
Bido wondered for a moment if he had misspoken.
Mireong glanced at him.
Without stopping her steps, she reached out and slightly pushed back Bido’s hood.
And lightly touched the tip of Bido’s ear.
Mireong spoke with a smile.
“But still… we’re alike. Aren’t we?”
Bido inhaled instead of answering.
Whether it was embarrassment
or warmth, an indescribable sensation caught in his throat.
Mireong covered Bido’s hood again and walked ahead.
Inside the hood, his breath kept growing hot,
so Bido deliberately kept his breathing shallow.
Bido thought.
Before, he had also passed through this passage with Mireong to get outside.
Just like then, and now too,
he wanted to be a strength to her.
Not to run away anymore,
but to protect someone.
Like that, the two headed outside.
Bido gritted his teeth inside his hood.