In the dead of night, when everyone else had long fallen asleep, a man carrying a large bag hurried through the streets, constantly glancing around to make sure no one saw him. His every movement screamed suspicion, and anyone watching would assume he was up to no good.

A single thought flashed through the mind of the mage observing this scene: a midnight escape.

“No one was really close to Max,” the mage offering information said. “He always bragged about how he didn’t belong in a place like this. Kept saying that one day, he’d leave this dump and become a royal mage.”

Since receiving the gold, the mage’s demeanor had shifted completely. No longer lazy or indifferent, he now spoke with careful politeness, treating us as though we were the most important people he’d ever met. His eyes, however, couldn’t help but dart repeatedly toward Asier’s purse.

“I could have made him more polite without the need for gold. Want me to show you how?” I offered, thinking about how well certain techniques worked on mages.

Asier, however, shot me down immediately. “No need. Hands off the sword.”

The mage, seemingly curious, cautiously asked, “Pardon, but… are you three from Grasis by any chance?”

Da-eun blinked in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“I lived in Grasis for a short time, and your accents are familiar,” the mage replied, clearly hoping to make some kind of connection.

But Asier quickly cut off the conversation. “Whether or not we’re from Grasis is irrelevant. Let’s focus on Max’s whereabouts.”

The mage nervously scratched his head, apologizing as Asier pressed on, “So, you’re saying Max didn’t have any friends?”

“Well… yeah. Who’d want to be friends with someone who constantly talks about how much better they are and how they’ll leave everyone behind?”

Asier frowned at that. “I see.”

Hearing this only made me trust Asier’s instincts even more. How had Brondin trusted this Max fellow with the keys to his workshop? He didn’t seem like someone with a stellar reputation. Surely people would have warned Brondin about him?

Or maybe Brondin doesn’t have many friends either… I thought. That might explain things. After all, being friendless wasn’t a crime.

As I mulled over this, Asier seemed to have made a decision. He stepped forward and grasped the handle of Max’s workshop door.

Predictably, the door was locked. He turned to me with a small, expectant smile.

“Kana, care to do the honors?”

“Sure,” I replied.

Of course, I wasn’t about to draw my sword in the middle of a busy street. Swinging a blade in broad daylight would attract far too much attention, especially in a craftsman’s city like Baltora. Besides, it wasn’t like I needed a weapon for this.

I approached the door, lifted my hand, and then, with a subtle flick of my wrist, I stepped back and rejoined the group.

“…Kana?” Da-eun asked, her voice full of confusion. “Weren’t you going to open the door? Why’d you come back?”

“Hmm?” I blinked at her, puzzled by the question. I glanced at Asier, who seemed equally bewildered.

With a small sigh, I nodded, realizing what they’d misunderstood. “I did open it.”

With that, I pushed the door open effortlessly, and it swung wide without resistance.

Da-eun stared, slack-jawed, at the now-open door. The mage, on the other hand, looked utterly horrified.

“H-how… how did you…?” the mage stammered, his mouth hanging wide open.

His reaction made me glance between my small hand and his wide-open mouth. For a brief moment, I wondered if my fist could fit inside, but I resisted the temptation.

“I used sword aura to cut the lock,” I explained casually.

“You used sword aura without a sword?” Da-eun asked, her disbelief evident.

“Yep,” I replied. Cutting through the lock with aura was as easy as slicing a twig. It was simple magic manipulation, something even Da-eun could learn with practice.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I think that’s a little beyond me,” Da-eun muttered, shaking her head.

She seemed to have given up on any lofty dreams. How sad, I thought.

But then I turned to Asier and gave him a questioning look. “Why were you surprised, though? You’ve trained with a sword too.”

“I wasn’t surprised,” he insisted.

“You didn’t even notice the door was open.”

“Well, how could I know it was open when I couldn’t see it happen? Not all of us are geniuses,” Asier replied with a sigh.

I nodded thoughtfully, though inwardly, I wondered why his sword skills hadn’t improved much since we last trained together.

Leaving behind the bewildered mage, we entered the workshop. The interior was a mess—drawers open, papers scattered everywhere, trash strewn about like a tornado had passed through.

“Is this how mages usually live?” Da-eun asked, wrinkling her nose at the sight.

“No,” Asier responded, also scanning the room. “This is worse than usual.”

We spread out, searching for anything useful. I picked up a piece of paper, but the combination of magic symbols and the Arquis language made it impossible to decipher. I quickly gave up and placed it back.

Meanwhile, Asier found something that caught his attention.

“This… This is one of the items Brondin made. He received an order for it, but I remember him saying the mage reported it broken when they tried to engrave a magic circle. So Brondin made another one. If it’s here, though…”

“It doesn’t seem like a good sign,” Da-eun remarked.

Max had likely lied about the damage to get Brondin to make him a second item, probably for money. That only confirmed that Max had a habit of deceit.

We continued searching, but we couldn’t find any solid clues as to where Max had gone. It was clear, though, that he’d been in a hurry, sweeping through the place and taking anything valuable with him.

“So, what now?” I asked as we reconvened.

“Do we try to catch him? Or is it too late already?” Da-eun wondered.

Asier shook his head. “He likely didn’t leave during the night. It’s too dangerous to travel at night in these mountains. He probably left after dawn.”

Just then, the mage who had followed us into the workshop cautiously spoke up. “Excuse me… I might have a suggestion.”

Asier’s head snapped toward him, and the mage flinched under the intense gaze.

“There are… people, not exactly reputable, who can help find someone. For a price, of course.”

Asier’s expression soured, but he understood what the mage meant.

Somewhere Else…

Max had indeed left the city but hadn’t chosen the teleportation gates to escape. The costs were too high, and he wasn’t about to waste the money he’d painstakingly gathered. Instead, he hired a mercenary group—disreputable but efficient. They were known for doing anything if the price was right.

Max clutched the leather pouch hidden beneath his robe and allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. Brondin wouldn’t suspect him, but Asier… That one might catch on.

The mercenaries assured Max they’d protect him, but their leader, a filthy man with greasy hair, couldn’t help but make thinly veiled threats.

“Don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe,” the leader said, grinning with a glint of red malice in his eyes.

Max tried not to flinch as the man’s arm slung over his shoulders, filling his nostrils with a foul stench.