In the city right before dawn, as the sky began to reclaim its soft blue hue after the moon had set, a stray cat prowled through a back alley. This particular alley, with its taverns and small eateries that often left scraps, had become a regular haunt for the cat. It stretched lazily, then padded over to its favorite spot.

The cat had everything it needed: a wall to block the wind, and a human who regularly provided food. Nothing could be better. It walked proudly through the alley, carrying a mouse it had hunted. But as it passed over a sewer grate, something startled it.

Clang!

The cat leapt back, puffing up its fur as it heard the loud noise. The vibration beneath its paws rattled it, making it yowl and dart away into another alley.

Boom!

The alley was now quiet, with only the sound of something shifting in the sewer. A manhole cover rattled, and someone’s muffled voice drifted up from below.

“I think this gap’s too narrow. I’ll need to slice through the road to make an opening.”

“…Just try to keep the noise down,” a woman’s voice replied.

The conversation ended, and a blade slicked with what looked like blood pushed up through the manhole. The cut was nearly silent, but the aftermath wasn’t. The cover fell away in a clean slice, and a pale hand emerged, searching the ground for leverage. With a bit of effort, someone pulled themselves up into the open air.

“Are you out?”

“Yeah, got it. I can get up now.”

Moments later, a head with hair the color of the dawn sky poked out of the manhole. It was Adeline, emerging from the sewers after escaping the dark mage's dungeon.

“Hah…”

She took a long breath, savoring the fresh air. In the cold morning air of late autumn, her breath appeared as white puffs. She adjusted her stance and called down to the person waiting below.

“I’m coming up.”

With ease, Adeline pulled herself fully out of the manhole, her once-clean coat now streaked with grime, and her pale skin smudged with black stains. She didn’t have time to enjoy the crisp morning air before she was leaning back over the manhole.

“I’m coming up too,” came the voice from below, and then another hand gripped the pavement. Adeline extended a tentative hand. Though she couldn’t see, Maxime (or Arsen) saw her hand and was momentarily taken aback.

“…Thank you.”

He grasped her hand, allowing her to help him out. Although the foul stench of the dungeon still clung to his nose, he was glad to be free of it. He glanced down at himself, noting the grime that covered him from the dungeon and sewer.

Will this hood ever be wearable again? he thought, tugging at his cloak.

“Where are we?” Adeline’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked around, recognizing the narrow alley with low, packed-together buildings.

“This is a back alley in the capital. It’s like a maze here. You probably wouldn’t know it since you haven’t been in the capital for long,” he said, turning his head to orient himself.

Adeline nodded. Though they needed to return to the inn where Denis and Charlotte waited, heading back in their current state would be foolish. Adeline seemed to think the same, as she tentatively suggested, “I think we’re too conspicuous like this.”

“They might not think twice about the smell, but you’re right.”

She shook her head, indicating the overwhelming smell of sewage and monster carcass. “There’s a distinct difference between the stench of sewage and that of a corpse. It’d be best to get rid of it first.”

She raised her filthy coat with a grimace. “It would be good to find a place nearby to clean up…”

They had no funds to spare, so visiting an inn was out of the question, especially since they only carried the classified documents they’d gathered. Maxime remembered a well just a little way off the main alley.

“A well…”

Adeline murmured thoughtfully. Knowing that was likely their best option, she nodded with a resigned expression.

“Yes, let’s freshen up there and then figure out our next steps.”

With that decision, they emerged from the dead-end alley and headed towards the well. Adeline walked quietly, a short distance behind Maxime, who occasionally glanced back at her. She seemed lost in thought, and the silence between them grew heavier as they walked. Finally, they reached the well.

“We’re here.”

Maxime broke the silence. There were buckets lying around, likely left by previous users. He lowered one into the well to check if it was dry, then pulled up a bucketful of water. The water was cold, but neither had the luxury to complain.

“Let’s…”

They had no choice but to strip and wash. While Maxime moved with ease, now that the moment was upon him, he found himself hesitating. Adeline stood a short distance away, silent. The only sound in the quiet dawn was the clinking of the bucket.

“Go ahead and wash first.”

Perhaps noticing his hesitation, Adeline urged him on. He responded stiffly, his voice betraying his embarrassment.

“Right…”

“It’s not like I can see you, whether you’re dressed or not.”

Her blunt words left him feeling more self-conscious than ever. Exhaling deeply, he removed his hood, which reeked of dungeon grime. Feeling a bit relieved, he pulled his shirt halfway up and glanced at her. To his surprise, she had turned her back, giving him some privacy. Feeling an odd sense of relief, he finished undressing. The cold night air prickled his skin as he hung his shirt over the bucket. His clothing was soaked with filth, but at least his shirt was in better condition than the hood.

He poured water over himself, washing his hands and face, scrubbing away as much dirt as possible. When he doused his head, he found that his hair was matted with grime. He scrubbed it vigorously, washing away the stench until he finally felt somewhat human again. He shook off the water from his hands.

“Phew…”

The chill of the water was quickly replaced by a warm flush as he moved his body. Looking at the hood, he realized how bad the stench was now that he’d washed the rest of himself.

“I think I’ll need to throw this out.”

Water dripped from his hair as he eyed the hood. Though his coat was salvageable, the hood was too filthy to clean easily.

“Yeah, that’s for the best.”

There was a beat of hesitation in her voice. As Adeline pulled off her own hood, Maxime caught a glimpse of her hair falling loose, and he quickly averted his gaze. Hearing the rustle of fabric, he turned his back, resisting the urge to look. He focused on the sounds of cloth rubbing against skin, the tugging of strings, and her occasional breaths, all mixed with the splashing of water.

“Ah…”

Her small sigh startled him, and he froze, stopping himself from turning around. Listening to the gentle splashing, he looked up at the dawn sky, his mind adrift.

“Arsen.”

The sound of his name brought him back, and he almost turned around before catching himself.

“Yes?” he asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

Her response came hesitantly, as if she’d debated her words for a while.

“Could you…check if there’s still any dirt left on me?”

What kind of request was that?

“I can’t see it myself…”

Sighing, Maxime reluctantly agreed. This was unavoidable.

“I’m still in my underclothes, so just turn around.”

As he slowly turned, he spotted Adeline standing in her corset, her body visible in the soft dawn light. The curves of her figure, her pale, glistening skin, and the scars crisscrossing her body—all of it was on display. When he remained silent, Adeline’s voice wavered.

“Is there still dirt?”

She looked anxious, unable to hide her unease. He took a quick glance, noting a small stain on her left cheek.

“There’s some left, just under your left cheek.”

She scrubbed at it and looked back, seemingly trying to meet his gaze, though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“Still?”

“It’s still there.”

She lowered her hand. There was a pause before she spoke again.

“…Can you help me with it?”

What was she thinking?

==

Since leaving the dungeon, Adeline couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened. Though she still obeyed the Count’s orders, the fragments of memories resurfacing in the dungeon had sparked doubts about him. Her thoughts also lingered on the man who had protected her.

If the Count ordered it, she would draw her sword without hesitation. Yet, the brief moments she’d shared with Arsen had left a deep impression on her. His words, as if he understood her pain, and the feeling of his breath matching hers brought forth memories that shouldn’t have existed.

“…Can you help me with it?”

Maybe, if she could feel his touch, her mind would settle, and her loyalty to the Count would return. Maybe this unsettling feeling, these memories that invaded her thoughts, would prove to be nothing but a lie.

She felt his apprehension, but right now, she only hoped he would oblige.

He stepped forward, his presence nearing. She sensed him stopping just a step away, and when she lifted her face to match his gaze, her mouth moved on its own.

“Can you?”

A small sigh escaped him, faintly brushing her face. She sensed his hand reaching toward her.

Ah.

The touch felt the same, unchanged. She felt his rough fingers brush her cheek, wiping away the stain with unexpected gentleness. Her heartbeat shifted ever so slightly.

When this hand lets go.

She thought to herself.

They would once again hold their swords, pointing them at each other, calling themselves enemies as they fought.

She trembled, but this time, she didn’t stop herself from reaching out.

When this hand lets go.

She placed her frail hand over his. Arsen’s hand stilled. The moment seemed endless as she memorized the feel of his hand on her cheek, of her hand on his.

It was no illusion. She could be certain of that now. The memories, the feelings—they were all real. Unsure whether to be relieved or saddened, she withdrew her hand. Eventually, his touch left her cheek.

“…It’s gone.”

She nodded slowly. Arsen stepped back, but before the silence could settle, he spoke, breaking the tension.

“Our clothes seem dry enough. Let’s get going. Are you tired?”

She shook her head. Sleep was the last thing on her mind, and exhaustion felt distant. She donned her coat and picked up her sword. The familiar weight of the hilt usually gave her reassurance, but not now.

“…Let’s go.”

As she spoke, Arsen moved forward, and she followed. The dawn was breaking, and the colors in the sky seemed to split it in two. They walked the same path, but it felt as though their roads would soon diverge.

==

“…I see.”

King George II’s eyes glinted with interest as he took in everything. Hugo, the head of the Royal Knights, nodded along. Maxime had laid out the evidence and documents he’d retrieved from the dungeon before them.

“This should be more than enough to justify a large-scale operation,” Hugo commented, to which the King nodded.

“I will take action myself. Hugo, you’ll need to join this effort. It’s curious that the Count hasn’t made a move, but we must seize this opportunity to act quickly. Arsen—no, Maxime. You have done a great service.”

“You flatter me, Your Majesty.”

The King looked down at Maxime, who was kneeling in deference, and thought to himself how wise it had been to take his side.

“You’ve pinpointed the dark mages’ lair, gathered proof of their dabbling in dark magic, and even found clues that might lead to your old comrade.”

The King’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, his mind whirring with political calculations.

“Ask of me anything, and I shall grant it. Speak freely.”

Maxime’s shoulders tensed, and the King realized immediately that he had something specific in mind.

“If I may be so bold, there is indeed one thing I wish to request here and now.”

“By all means. Look me in the eye and make your request.”

Maxime met the King’s gaze, a desperate plea evident in his dark eyes.

“What I ask for is…”

==

“The King will likely move to crush the Mage Tower. The pretext is strong enough. This works in our favor,” Count Léon Benning murmured, sitting in a dim room with Adeline kneeling before him. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at her. Her voice remained as steady as ever, but something about her seemed different, a sense he couldn’t quite place.

“We have no more use for the dark mages. They’re a hindrance. Now is the perfect chance to take the skilled mages under our wing and rid ourselves of the dark mages.”

He was more than willing to sever ties with them. Though he wouldn’t deny his connection to the Mage Tower, he could easily feign ignorance of the dark mages, especially without concrete proof. Half the court was on his side, so what did he have to fear?

“That Arsen fellow is quite the nuisance.”

He looked back at Adeline. He had to clean up all the loose ends.

“Adeline.”

“Yes, my lord.”

For a moment, he merely watched her. Then, with a sinister smile, he issued his command.

“Support the King’s force in their assault on the Mage Tower. Throughout the operation, stay close to Arsen Berne. Watch him,” he said coldly, “and if he shows even a hint of suspicion, kill him.”

His voice was like stone, cold and weighty.

“But if you find yourself lacking and cannot finish him off…”

His eyes bore into her, devoid of any warmth.

“Then you should not return to me alive.”