Raphael stumbled into the room, the door slamming against the wall behind him. His whole body ached, pain digging into his bones with every breath. His arms were lined with fresh wounds, his clothes torn and bloodstained. He barely made it across the room before his legs threatened to give out.
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to move toward the cradle. Lily lay there, wrapped in soft blankets, completely unaware of the world around her. She slept so peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath.
Raphael stared at her.
If I had just followed Elara and Stubby… would I have been dragged into all of this? His fingers curled into fists. Would I have ever met you?
His vision blurred for a moment. He was so tired. His whole body screamed for rest, but his thoughts refused to stop.
Why am I protecting you?
His hands trembled as he reached toward her. He could feel the warmth of her skin even before he touched her. So small. So fragile. His fingers hovered over her throat.
I should have killed you that day.
The thought was cold, but it sat in his mind like it had been there forever. If I had, I wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't be bleeding, exhausted, struggling to breathe. If I do it now… maybe I can finally be free.
His fingers tightened slightly. But…
His shoulders sagged.
He couldn't do it.
Raphael let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Damn it…" he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. His hand fell from her throat, landing gently on her cheek instead. She was so warm.
His whole body suddenly felt too heavy. His knees buckled, and with a dull thud, he collapsed to the floor beside her cradle. His breath came out in ragged, uneven gasps.
"Lily..." His voice was hoarse. "Your big brother is tired…"
His eyelids grew heavy.
"Just… let me rest… for a moment."
His breathing slowed. His body gave in.
Sleep finally took him.
Meanwhile
Angelo moved through the empty streets, his footsteps barely making a sound. The night was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was waiting for something to break it. He turned into a narrow alley, stopping just before the shadows swallowed him whole.
"You could've warned me," he muttered, voice low but sharp. "You didn't think I'd need to know the Paladin Knight was involved?"
From the darkness, a figure stepped forward—Mr. Kaito, moving with an unsettling calm. "If I had told you," he said smoothly, "would you have refused the job?"
Angelo scoffed. "Of course not. But I would've been prepared. Unlike you, I don't enjoy surprises."
Mr. Kaito reached into his cloak and pulled out a small bag, tossing it to Angelo. The coins inside jingled softly. "Your payment, as agreed."
Angelo caught it, weighing it in his palm before slipping it into his coat. "It's about time." He pulled out a small wooden box, the contents secured inside, and handed it over. "Everything you need is in there."
Mr. Kaito took the box, studying it for a moment before tucking it away. "My lady will be pleased."
Angelo leaned against the cold wall, arms crossed. "Yeah, well, you tell her I did my part. Now it's her turn." His expression darkened. "And you remember the deal—anything connected to the Sightless Shadow? Wipe it out."
A faint smile flickered across Mr. Kaito's face. "Of course. As promised, all traces leading back to your friend have already been destroyed."
Angelo exhaled slowly, nodding. "Good." He glanced up at the dimly lit sky, as if searching for something in the darkness. Then he smirked. "You know, it's funny. He really trusted me once. Thought I had his back, thought we were in this together. But people like him... they don't see the bigger picture. He never understood how this world really works."
Mr. Kaito tilted his head slightly. "And how does it work, in your eyes?"
Angelo chuckled, shaking his head. "Loyalty is an illusion. People hold onto it like it's some unbreakable bond, but in the end? It's just a chain. And if you're smart, you learn when to break it."
"You think you're smart, then?"
Angelo's grin widened. "I think I'm still breathing." He pushed off the wall. "And that's more than I can say for a lot of people who used to be in this game."
Mr. Kaito observed him carefully, his expression unreadable. He had worked with many men like Angelo before—arrogant, cunning, and dangerous in their own way. But something about this one unsettled him.
"You talk like a man who's convinced himself he made the right choice," Mr. Kaito said.
"I don't need to convince myself." Angelo took a step closer, voice lowering. "I know I did."
Mr. Kaito kept his expression calm, but inwardly, doubt crept in. A man who betrays once will do it again. There was no certainty that Angelo wouldn't turn against them next. His lady trusted him enough to strike a deal, but trust, in this world, was a gamble.
"And what happens when there's no one left to betray?" Mr. Kaito asked.
Angelo paused, the question hanging between them. Then he chuckled softly. "Then I'll finally be free."
Mr. Kaito didn't respond. He simply gave a polite nod and turned, disappearing back into the shadows.
Angelo watched him go, his smirk fading. His fingers curled slightly, a brief tension in his hand before he shoved it back into his coat pocket. He let out a quiet breath, then turned and walked away, his figure vanishing into the lonely streets.
The next morning
Mira exhaled, her sharp gaze locked onto Mael and Takashi. "Do you two realize how much trouble you've caused?"
Mael clenched his jaw. "Captain, we didn't start anything."
"Oh?" Mira picked up the report Nina had handed her. "Because this says otherwise." She flipped through the pages, her voice steady. "A brawl at an inn. Civilians injured. Property damaged. And—" she looked up, her eyes narrowing, "—an entire section of the village's defensive wall destroyed."
Mael scoffed. "That wasn't us!"
Takashi, still kneeling beside him, finally spoke. "We were fighting the Sightless Shadow." His voice was quiet but firm. "He was stronger than we expected."
Mira crossed her arms. "That's not an excuse."
Mael's fists tightened. "What were we supposed to do? Let him walk away?"
"You were supposed to be better than this." Mira's voice was cold. "You two are knights. Not street brawlers. Do you think recklessness is going to win you battles?"
Nina smirked from where she sat on the desk. "I think what she's trying to say is: you two got your asses kicked and made a mess doing it."
Mael shot her a glare. "No one asked you."
"I'm just here for the entertainment." Nina grinned. "And right now, watching you get scolded is the highlight of my day."
Mael exhaled sharply, trying to hold back his frustration.
Astrid, who had been silent until now, shifted on the bed. "Captain, what's going to happen to them?"
Mira pinched the bridge of her nose. "Nothing—for now. I can smooth this over, but that doesn't mean you two get to walk away like this never happened." She looked at them again. "You made a scene. And you let him escape."
Takashi lowered his head. "He was impossible to catch."
Nina tilted her head. "What was he like?"
Mael's face darkened. "A monster."
Takashi's fingers twitched. "He didn't hesitate. Not once."
Mira studied them. "Then you weren't prepared."
Mael clenched his fists. "How do you prepare for something like that?"
"You learn. You think. You adapt." Mira's voice was sharp. "And you don't let your emotions control you."
Mael's breathing was heavy, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. "So, what do we do now?"
"We leave tomorrow," Mira said simply. "The Countess is already twisting this situation. If we stay here any longer, she'll turn the entire thing against us."
She turned toward the door. "Stay out of trouble until then." With that, she left, the door closing softly behind her.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Then Nina let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, that was intense." She looked at Mael. "So, you got completely wrecked, huh?"
Mael shot up. "Shut up, Nina."
Astrid gave Takashi a worried look. "Are you okay?"
Takashi didn't answer. He just stared at the door, lost in thought.
brutal intensity while keeping the description minimal and focusing on impactful dialogue.
The room was a wreck—papers scattered, shattered glass on the floor, and the Boss standing behind his desk, his breath ragged with fury. His fists trembled as he clenched them, veins bulging on his temple. Angelo stood a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable, while two men in dark uniforms stood behind him, awaiting orders.
"Why..." The Boss's voice was raw, almost shaking. "Why the hell would he do this? Everything I built... Everything I worked for... slipping away!" His hand shot out, grabbing a glass from his desk and hurling it at the wall. It shattered violently, but no one flinched. "I've lost clients! I've lost money! All because of him!"
Angelo watched him in silence before finally speaking, his voice smooth, deliberate. "Boss... Raphael didn't just go through with it—he knew exactly what he was doing." He let the words hang in the air before stepping closer. "I tried to stop him. I warned him. I told him how much this would cost you... but he didn't care."
The Boss's nostrils flared. "That bastard."
"He's never been one of us," Angelo continued, voice laced with just enough frustration to sound sincere. "He played the long game, pretending to be loyal while waiting for the right moment to tear it all down. I saw it coming. I told you from the beginning—Raphael doesn't belong here. You should've listened."
The door creaked open.
Raphael stepped inside.
Silence.
His expression was unreadable, but there was a weight in the way he carried himself, as if he already knew what awaited him. The Boss straightened, his eyes dark with fury, while Angelo smirked faintly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward for just a second before disappearing.
"What are you doing here?" the Boss asked, voice dripping with menace.
Raphael stood his ground. "I came to report last night's events."
A bitter laugh escaped Angelo before the Boss even had a chance to react. He stepped forward, looking Raphael up and down like he was filth. "You've got some nerve," he muttered.
Raphael's gaze shifted to him. "What did I do?"
Angelo scoffed, shaking his head. "You really don't know?" He turned to the Boss. "You hear that? He's playing dumb."
The Boss clenched his jaw. "Hold him."
The two men behind Angelo moved fast, grabbing Raphael's arms and locking him in place.
Then came the first punch.
A sickening crack echoed through the room as the Boss's fist slammed into Raphael's jaw. His head snapped to the side, but he barely reacted. Blood trickled from his lip.
"What did I do?" Raphael growled, his voice low, dangerous.
The Boss didn't answer. He punched him again, harder. "You betrayed us!" Another blow. "You sold us out!"
Raphael clenched his fists, his muscles tightening as he fought against his restraints. His breath came faster now, fury building in his chest. He turned his glare on Angelo, who simply smiled, tilting his head slightly, as if studying him.
"You see, Boss," Angelo said smoothly, stepping beside them, "Raphael is too proud to admit it. But deep down? He knows what he did." His voice softened, almost like a friend trying to talk sense into someone. "Maybe he even thought it was the right thing. Maybe he convinced himself he was protecting someone." His eyes gleamed. "Lily, perhaps?"
Raphael's entire body tensed. His breathing turned sharp, his fingers twitching.
The Boss caught it instantly.
"Oh, that's it, isn't it?" He grinned, stepping closer until their faces were inches apart. "That little girl you're so damn fond of... You did this for her?" He let out a dark chuckle. "Well, don't worry. She won't be a problem much longer."
Raphael's breath hitched.
Then he snapped.
The man to his left screamed as Raphael twisted his arm at an unnatural angle, snapping bone. The other barely had time to react before Raphael drove his head back, smashing into his nose with a sickening crunch. Blood spurted.
Angelo moved fast, lunging at him with a knife, but Raphael dodged at the last second, twisting out of reach.
"Get him!" the Boss roared.
The remaining man pulled out his blade, but Raphael was quicker—he grabbed the dagger from his own belt and drove it straight into the man's throat. A gargled scream filled the room before the man collapsed, blood pooling beneath him.
Angelo's eyes flickered with something unreadable—excitement, maybe, or annoyance. "Heh."
But before he could make another move, Raphael was already gone.
Vanished into the shadows.
The Boss slammed his fist on the desk, his face twisted with rage. "FIND HIM!"
Angelo exchanged a glance with him before nodding, his smirk returning. "Don't worry, Boss." He turned toward the door. "He's got nowhere to run."
Meanwhile, back at the inn…
The door creaked open, and two men stepped inside. The taller of the two rolled his shoulders, a heavy mace resting against his shoulder, while the shorter man toyed with a jagged-edged knife, flipping it between his fingers with practiced ease.
"Let's get this over with," the taller one grumbled, scanning the dimly lit inn.
The innkeeper, an older man with a slight hunch, tensed the moment their eyes met. He could smell death clinging to them.
"Welcome," he stammered, forcing a weak smile. "Can I... can I help you?"
The taller man stepped forward, grinning. "Yeah. We're looking for a friend of ours. Heard he's got a room here."
The innkeeper's hands trembled, his throat dry. He opened his mouth to speak—
CRACK.
The shorter man moved like a viper, his knife slamming into the innkeeper's skull in a sickening, wet crunch. Blood splattered against the wooden counter. The innkeeper didn't even have time to scream. His body twitched once before collapsing, his head hitting the floor with a dull thud.
The taller man sighed, watching the body go limp. "You didn't have to kill him."
The shorter man scoffed, wiping his blade clean on the dead man's shirt. "Didn't have to, no. But now we don't have to waste time talking."
The taller man exhaled through his nose, stepping over the corpse. "Let's just find the kid."
They moved up the stairs, boots creaking against the wooden steps. Checking each room, they finally stopped before the last door.
"This has to be it," the taller man murmured. He raised his mace.
The shorter man shoved him aside. "Quit talking and open it."
Before either could act—
SNAP.
The taller man's body jolted violently. A force—something unseen—had gripped his skull, twisting it in a single, grotesque motion. His neck gave way with a sickening pop, and his body hit the ground, lifeless.
The shorter man stumbled back, eyes wide with horror. "What the—?!" His grip on his knife tightened as he scanned the room, heart pounding.
Then he saw it.
The innkeeper was standing before him. His face still mutilated, the fatal wound gaping, but his lips pulled into an unnatural, grotesque grin.
"You… You should be dead," the man stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
The innkeeper's head tilted unnaturally, his voice hollow. "I should be dead… but I'm not leaving without taking you with me."
The shorter man let out a strangled gasp, raising his knife. But before he could strike—
SHUNK.
Cold steel slid into his spine. His body stiffened, and his vision blurred. He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of a shadowy figure behind him.
The shadow smirked. "Sleep."
The knife twisted.
A gurgled breath escaped the man's lips before he collapsed, his body twitching violently before going still.
The innkeeper turned to the figure and bowed slightly. "Master, I could have handled it."
The shadow let out a dark chuckle. "Save it, Veilwalker. Just clean this mess up."
Veilwalker's eyes gleamed. "And the girl?"
The shadow hummed in amusement. "Raphael won't let her die."
With that, he vanished. Veilwalker took a last look at the bodies, then lifted a lantern, tipping it over. The flames hungrily consumed the wooden floor, spreading fast.
Outside the Inn
Raphael dashed through the streets, stopping in horror as he saw the flames consuming the inn. "Lily!" he shouted, sprinting inside, his heart racing. Lily's faint cries reached him, guiding him through the inferno. Dodging burning debris, he finally found her room and gathered her into his arms.
"Hold on, Lily," he whispered, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. He scanned the room for a way out, spotting a weakened section of the wall. With a desperate punch, he broke through, escaping with Lily in his arms.
Ignoring the pain from his injuries, he fled into the night, disappearing into an alley. Onlookers gathered around the burning inn, whispering anxiously, as knights struggled to extinguish the flames.
From the darkness, Veilwalker watched, a satisfied smile on his face. "Be well, Raphael," he murmured, before slipping back into the shadows.