“You’re right. He doesn’t belong here.”

It was exactly as he said.

While the man’s attire resembled that of the backstreet dwellers, his movements were too controlled, his posture too steady, and most telling of all—his eyes were different.

Aiger continued watching him and then spoke in a measured tone.

“He’s a knight from some noble house.”

“What? A knight?”

“Yeah.”

Aiger had recognized it right away. The presence of a knight—a particular kind of aura that had surrounded him since birth—clung unmistakably to the man.

“What kind of house would be foolish enough to send such a poorly disguised man?”

“No way.”

His subordinate shrugged and added,

“Knights babble on about honor and whatnot. They avoid places like this like the plague. If he’s infiltrating in disguise, he’s either incredibly skilled… or a disgraced exile.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem like an elite warrior, and he doesn’t look like a man stripped of his title either.”

“If Your Highness says so, then it must be true.”

His subordinate, trusting Aiger’s judgment without question, narrowed his eyes.

“Hmm. Maybe he’s just a fool who wandered into the backstreets for fun and got lost?”

“No. That’s the stride of a man with a destination.”

Aiger kept watching until the knight entirely disappeared from view, then tilted his head slightly.

“And it seems our destination overlaps.”

“Huh?”

His subordinate raised a hand to shield his eyes from the dim light, scanning the alley where the knight had vanished. He, too, blinked in surprise.

Because at the end of that alley lay where they were headed.

The tangled maze of backstreets often forced people to cross paths, but that alone wasn’t enough to confirm they were going to the exact location.

Yet, Aiger’s gut was screaming at him.

If they followed that man, something was bound to happen.

After gaining a certain level of strength, Aiger developed a sort of intuition—an awareness he never ignored or dismissed.

It wasn’t an infallible prophecy, but it had saved his life more than once.

Truthfully, the knight had only caught his eye because he was an unexpected sight in this kind of place. Aiger hadn’t been particularly interested in him.

But if they were heading to the same destination…

That changed things.

“Let’s go.”

“Are we following him?”

“No.”

Even as he said that, Aiger traced the knight’s footsteps precisely, stepping on the same spots.

Then, curling his lips into a slight smirk, he gestured to his subordinate.

“We just happen to be going to the same place.”

***

Meanwhile…

As Aiger tracked the escort knight who had kidnapped the noble lady,

Kertan was drenched in sweat, swinging a wooden practice sword.

However, his strikes were erratic, his movements a complete mess.

Thwack!

“Haah.”

In the end, he threw his sword aside and sighed, rubbing his face with both hands.

Because no one was more aware than he was that he was far from being in a normal state.

As he bent down to reach for his sword, he froze at the sight of a drop of sweat falling from his black hair.

His mind was restless. No, to be precise…

He was anxious.

Far more so than when he had desperately searched for his missing younger sister while in the gladiator arena and found no trace of her.

“Alright. I’ll find her and bring her right before your eyes.”

Should he not have believed those words? No. Those eyes had spoken nothing but the absolute truth.

This torment consumed him every hour—no, every minute, every second.

How long had it been since he had come under the command of His Highness the Crown Prince?

His anticipation of seeing his sister again had grown daily, and in equal measure, so had his fear that he might never see her again.

“From this moment on, we’ll retrieve your sister.”

Just two hours ago, Aiger had summoned him and said those words.

“Right now…?”

“Yes. The information came from the bastard who has her, so it’s reliable. Hm. But it is back-alley business so that things could go awry.”

The word “awry” never even registered in Kertan’s ears.

All he heard was “retrieve.” Overcome with emotion, he dropped to his knees with a loud thud and pressed his forehead to the floor.

In complete submission, Kertan pleaded,

“Let me come with you! Please, take me with you!”

But Aiger did not so much as blink at his desperate plea.

“No. You’ll be a nuisance.”

Kertan could say nothing more.

Aiger’s words had struck too profoundly, like a blade piercing his very core.

Even he couldn’t predict what he might do once his sister was before his eyes.

If she was living happily, perhaps he could endure it. But if she was suffering?

He would doubtless lose all reason and rampage like a wild beast.

And in the midst of that… what would become of his sister?

Kertan clenched his teeth so hard that his gums bled, but he could no longer ask to go along.

“Stay put. Just as she said, your sister will be safely brought before your eyes.”

“Stay put… stay.”

As if engraving Aiger’s final command into his mind, Kertan blankly stared at the ground. But in the next moment, he spun around like lightning, a dagger now in his grasp, aimed at the throat of the one who had approached him.

However, the man remained unfazed, merely brushing the blade aside with a single finger before asking,

“What’s this? Were you in the middle of training?”

Recognizing his opponent, Kertan lowered his dagger and gave a silent nod.

The man was one of the individuals who had been introduced as someone he would be working alongside under the Crown Prince’s command.

There were a few others, but they were all away on their tasks. One had even accompanied the Crown Prince today to confirm his sister’s whereabouts.

As his thoughts returned to his sister, the air around Kertan grew oppressively heavy.

Watching him, the man in front of him clicked his tongue and stroked his chin.

A long scar ran diagonally across his right cheek—a striking feature. He gave Kertan a once-over before suddenly sitting down right there.

He then gestured with his chin and said,

“Sit down for now.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m saying I’ll listen.”

At the man’s grin and easygoing tone, Kertan furrowed his brows and shook his head.

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Of course, it’s not! But we’re teammates, at least for now. Not that that’s the real reason I’m asking.”

Scratching at his scar with a smirk, the man continued,

“The truth is, I’ll be paired with you on a mission soon. And if you’re out of it, that will make my life harder.”

His pretense of concern was dropped in an instant, replaced by blunt self-interest. Kertan frowned at his words but eventually sat down in front of him.

To someone who had lived his entire life with a sword at his throat, the man’s words struck too deeply to ignore.

If he were moving completely alone, it wouldn’t be an issue. But being in a pair, with one person out of sorts?

That was no different from handing over their neck to be sliced.

Once Kertan settled in, the scarred man spoke.

“So, what’s bothering you? Just say anything that comes to mind.”

“It’s not something I can talk about so lightly.”

“Then should I go grab a bottle of liquor?”

“If you’re thinking of using me as an excuse to drink in broad daylight, don’t even dream of it.”

“Tsk, such a strict kid.”

“Must be nice to be old.”

The two men, their faces contorted with fierce expressions, glared at each other as if ready to pounce at any moment.

“You’re starting to lose focus. Why don’t you step back first?”

“So, you are getting weak with age.”

“This bastard just won’t shut up.”

Blinking first with an awkward smile, the scarred man soon sighed and spoke.

“I’m not taking this lightly. As you said, age has taught me that sometimes it’s better to let things out rather than bottle them up. Keeping it all inside won’t solve anything.”

“How do you…”

“If that were the case, do you think you’d still be sitting around like this? I would’ve already gone out and turned the whole place upside down. This, kid, is what experience looks like.”

Meeting the expectant gaze urging him to speak, Kertan opened his mouth without realizing it.

“I found my sister…”

He hadn’t intended to go into detail.

Yet, once he started talking, the words spilled uncontrollably, touching on parts of his past he hadn’t expected to share.

“…So now I’m waiting. But it’s just too…”

“You’re anxious?”

Kertan pressed his lips together and nodded.

Realizing he had said too much, he felt uncomfortable. Yet, he couldn’t deny the unexpected sense of relief.

The other man let out a hearty laugh as if reading his thoughts.

“Hahaha! You really are young! Feeling embarrassed over something like this. At my age, I’d use this kind of talk to charm women.”

After lightening the mood with his joke, he quickly grew serious.

“I understand how you feel, but trust him.”

There was no need to ask, “Who?”

“His Highness the Crown Prince never returns to his word once he’s spoken it. And if it’s a promise he made to someone he has taken under his wing, there’s no need to question it.”

“If he even said it in front of his fiancée, then there’s no way he’ll break it—”

Kertan didn’t hear the rest of that sentence.

He had never believed the rumors that Aiger was a bloodthirsty demon.

In the first place, his life had never been relaxed enough to concern himself with the affairs of a crown prince who walked above the clouds.

But after coming under his command, he couldn’t help but take an interest in those rumors—and within a few days, he was sure.

From everything he had seen of His Highness, it was clear that the stories circulating among the people were nothing but nonsense.

Trust…

Kertan clenched his fists and made a silent vow.

If His Highness truly brought his sister back safely, he would serve him as his benefactor for the rest of his life.

And the lady who had guided him to the Crown Prince…

“Who is she?”

The latter didn’t look pleased when Kertan asked Aiger about the lady. But Kertan didn’t notice.

“Don’t tell me you still haven’t—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then you don’t need to know.”

“I want to repay my debt.”

Aiger, gazing into Kertan’s earnest and untainted eyes, felt a flicker of irritation. But he assumed it was just a lingering reaction to Kertan’s past threats against Raylin.

Still, the name that came from his mouth was not Raylin Greuga.

“She’s my fiancée.”

Ultimately, Kertan had to ask someone else before finally learning the Crown Prince’s fiancée’s name.

“Do you trust me?”

Those words, spoken by a woman with dazzling golden hair and eyes of unfathomable emerald depths, were now etched into his heart.

With his jaw clenched, Kertan gave a firm nod.

“I trust you.”

“Haha! That’s what I like to hear! Now, shall we get to work?”

The man, larger than Kertan, rose first and pulled out the curved sword at his waist.

Even knowing that the “work” he mentioned wasn’t a simple sparring match but a brutal battle where blood would spill and flesh would tear, Kertan didn’t back down.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As he clashed with the scarred man, his sword no longer wavered.