Chapter 7

At first, it was easy to dismiss their absence as lingering in conversation, but as evening passed without a sign of them, concern grew.

Wearing expensive clothes, Viretta’s absence worried them. If they had sent someone to fetch the children and still received no response, their anxiety doubled.

And when they found Viretta’s room emptied of all its valuable belongings, concern escalated exponentially.

Their relationship with their future in-laws was now on shaky ground even before considering their children's safety. Monain, his face naturally stern, snapped a broom handle in his grip, his expression tense. Cadlen’s face showed no signs of comfort either.

"Please, calm down, my friend. I’m sure it’s nothing serious."

"I’d like to believe that too, but with a son prone to trouble, I can’t help but worry."

Even as Monain declared his confidence, he broke the thick broom handle into three pieces with his bare hands.

Watching the thick handle snap as if it were a twig, Cadlen could only hope that Viretta hadn’t done anything drastic to Iola. He wasn’t thinking of the reverse.

"They’ll surely return without causing too much—"

"Miss Viretta has eloped with a man!"

The hopeful words were interrupted by one of the servants, who burst in with a bombshell.

A sudden romantic escape.

In an instant, the broom handle was in four pieces.

It’s harder to snap smaller pieces than long handles, yet Monain broke them as easily as if they were candy sticks.

Standing next to Monain, who trembled with a sense of betrayal, Cadlen found himself trembling in fear.

"What is this, my friend! How could they commit such an outrageous act...?"

"Sir! The young master has run off with a woman!"

From behind Monain, one of his subordinates, who had been sent to search for Iola, returned with a shout.

A second unexpected elopement declaration momentarily froze Monain’s thoughts.

Then, both fathers exchanged looks of bewilderment and confusion.

In less than a day of meeting, both engaged parties had disappeared.

Yet, both fathers were seasoned in dealing with crises. They quickly turned to a servant to confirm the situation.

"Eloped? That can’t be right, can it? Surely, they’re just out for a stroll, dressed in their engagement attire?"

"No, sir. They instructed us to tell you to ‘wait patiently’ while they ‘find their path in life’ after scaling the wall and evading pursuit!"

"…"

It was a clear statement, more resolute than they’d hoped. They couldn’t dismiss it as a mere outing.

"Couldn’t they have gotten caught up in something? Iola, of all people, running away with a woman? That doesn’t make sense."

"But he did say, ‘I cannot pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity’ while fleeing with her."

To escape on the eve of such a monumental occasion—what could he have been thinking?

Monain felt as if he’d been struck by a club.

He had never once entertained the thought that his son might elope with some woman. And yet, here he was, doing so three days before the engagement.

Clinging to his last threads of sanity, Monain managed to ask another question.

"W-Who is... this woman? The one Iola ran off with?"

"Well, she was young, with short hair, and her eyes… oh, she looked just like him!" The subordinate’s finger pointed directly at Cadlen.

Currently, there was only one young woman in town who resembled Cadlen—Viretta Medleridge, his second daughter.

"...It must be my daughter. Keemon, who was the man Viretta eloped with?"

The servant standing next to Cadlen, catching his breath, replied as he wiped his brow.

"When we yelled after him, he said he was the son of Jin."

In this town, there was only one son of Jin—Monain Vi’s son, Iola.

"…"

"…"

"My son may be many things, but he is no thief."

No thief would announce their identity while running away. Monain, on the verge of losing his grip, managed to ground himself once again.

Thank heavens, at least Iola had eloped with Viretta, and Viretta with Iola. It would have been worse if either had run off with someone else, yet this was no ordinary situation either. Monain had no idea what their motive for eloping could be.

The same was true for Cadlen, but as Viretta’s father, he was more accustomed to her eccentricities. He could label her quirks with some semblance of charm.

"They must have gotten close already…"

"Excuse me?"

"Close enough to go on a honeymoon together."

"Pardon…?"

Monain asked twice, thrown off by Cadlen’s somewhat dazed statement.

He wasn’t alone. Monain’s subordinates and the household servants all appeared similarly baffled.

Cadlen, however, looked up at the evening sky and clenched his fist with conviction.

"Don’t you agree, my friend? They must have wanted some time together before the engagement. They’re moving faster than expected, but in the end, they’ll get married… It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine."

The repeated assertions were like a desperate mantra.

It was a resolve to not let this engagement be broken—a fervent declaration of ‘It’s fine.’

The faintly trembling, dimmed look in Cadlen’s eyes betrayed his efforts.

"F…Fine? If you say so, my friend… Yes, they are engaged, after all."

With the father of the daughter taking it well, what could the father of the son say? Sharing Cadlen’s desire not to break the engagement, Monain quickly latched onto his words.

"Yes, they’re engaged, after all."

"Indeed. They are engaged, after all."

"Ah, youth."

"Exactly."

Their empty words of self-assurance echoed through the manor.

 

How did it come to this?

In the darkness of the city, Lanken ran without a proper light source, dashing through the streets.

Behind him was a familiar figure, while ahead was a stranger leading the way.

The man ran swiftly, and Viretta, though slower, never stopped to catch her breath.

Having long kept in sync with Viretta, Lanken helped her scale the walls and escape safely beyond the city limits.

Finally free, Lanken straightened his back and looked around.

In the distance, near the city gate, a group of merchants slept under pitched tents. There seemed to be no trouble in sight, nor any on the horizon.

Closer by, a tidy-looking young man caught his eye. As soon as their gazes met, the man smiled warmly.

"Pleasure to meet you. You must be Viretta’s knight."

"No, I’m not."

"Oh, but you are. This man has sworn unwavering loyalty and friendship to me as my knight."

"I’m just a mercenary."

In Viretta’s words, Lanken was her ‘fearless young knight who swore loyalty in a pool of blood,’ but in reality, he was a local mercenary.

Not even close to knighthood, he was merely a rookie mercenary, barely earning enough to keep his family fed.

Despite his rudimentary appearance, with messy hair and narrow eyes that he’d tried to shape into an intimidating look, he still looked far too clean-cut to be a seasoned fighter.

His build was also more lithe and nimble than that of a battle-hardened knight or mercenary.

"One year younger than Viretta."

It would have been better if his youthful, fresh appearance was only superficial, but he was indeed a year younger than Viretta.

He shot her a look, rolling his eyes at her outlandish claims, but Viretta just stepped forward, her confidence unwavering.

"Though he hasn’t been knighted due to issues of rank and wealth, he is every bit as capable as any knight."

"No, I’m not."

"I see. It’s the essence, not the appearance or rank, that counts."

"You’re not listening, are you? I’m just a local mercenary. Basically, an errand boy."

While Viretta argued he was a great knight, Lanken saw himself as an ordinary mercenary, kept from knighthood by practical limitations.

"True skill is proven not by one’s own words, but by those of others."

"Well, I… never mind."

Lanken attempted to protest once more, but Viretta and Iola seemed oblivious to his words.

The mere act of conversing with them drained his energy, but he was used to it. He opened the pack Viretta had brought for him.

Inside were a change of clothes, some underwear, a small dish, and his personal stamp… everything he needed. Most of their provisions and equipment were in the larger bags Viretta had brought.

"We rushed out so fast… where are we even going? Are we going far?"

Just by looking at the supplies, he could tell they were headed for a long journey. Yet, in the frenzy, he hadn’t caught wind of their destination.

Before leaving, there’d been talk of a dragon, but he’d brushed it off as a dream or a hallucination—there was no way they’d actually go through with it.

With sparkling eyes, Viretta answered confidently.

"We’re going to hunt a dragon."

"Right… Once again, you’re calmly out of your mind."

Lanken narrowed his eyes, his expression growing more and more pained.