"So, you have found what you were looking for, sir, haven't you?" Ben said as he carefully counted the coins he had received, his fingers moving rapidly between the metallic notes and the shining gold.
Loran replied, examining the papers with eyes shining with focus, and then began to smell something, saying, "Has the food burned... or something else?"
In the next moment, the man burst into the room, pushing the door open with sudden violence, shocking both Loran and Ben. He was panting, his face red and sweat dripping from his forehead, feeling a severe suffocation, trying to speak with difficulty: "S... S... Sir..."
Unable to complete his sentence, he leaned against the wall helplessly, his voice trembling as he said, "Ben... the tavern..."
The man suddenly fell to the ground, exhaling his last breath with a single word that blazed in Loran's mind: "Burning..."
Loran rushed swiftly and gracefully toward the tavern door, but upon his arrival, he stopped, turned around, and did not find Ben behind him. He shouted at the top of his voice, "Ben! Where are you, seller of services?!"
Ben replied in a faint voice from inside the room, "Gathering what I can of the gold, sir..."
Loran raised his voice, grasping the handle of the tavern door while pieces of debris fell from the ceiling, turning into a blazing barrier between him and the rest of the tavern: "What are you saying? I cannot hear you!"
Ben's voice gradually approached, clearer now, as he carried a sack of gold in his hand, his voice weak: "I must repay my debts, sir..."
Hardly had Ben finished his words when pieces of debris fell upon him, pinning his movement while the sack remained in his palm, surrounded by fire. He threw the sack toward Loran, saying, "Give this to Eugene, sir..."
Loran rushed to help him, trying to lift a piece of wood obstructing his path, but the heat of the fire forced his hand back instinctively, away from the raging flames.
He headed toward the door quickly, clutching the chest in his hand, but found it firmly locked. He threw his body against the door numerous times trying to break it, but to no avail.
Loran sat down, his back resting against the tavern door in a posture of defeat, as his memories flooded over him, making him live the scene all over again.
In the Kalahar Empire, a massive fire was consuming the palace of Selena Arkan, the wife of the Great Duke Seral Ivar. Loran was standing before his sister's burning house, his eyes overflowing with tears, the weather stormy, and the royal family emblem burning, its ornaments distorted—a sight overshadowed by horror. A man approached him, delivering a letter into his hand, then dashed away swiftly on a carriage.
Loran opened the worn paper and read words written in poor handwriting, carrying a direct challenge to the detective: "This is the reward for interfering in our affairs."
While sweat poured down his face, Loran remembered the scene in silence, and then the door was violently broken to reveal a person wearing a knight's attire, holding an iron rod in his hand.
He said to himself, "I am too late... I must hurry, extinguish the flames, and save whoever is still alive..." before falling unconscious from the blow of the knight's right rod.
The knight took the chest from Loran's hand, then left the tavern, leaving the fire to burn even more fiercely.
Outside the tavern, he stood in front of the carriage where each knight carried a bucket of water on their way to save the tavern. Leading them was a man in his forties with a light beard, his face full of scars, and his black hair mixed with white strands, known as Maron.
Upon boarding the carriage, the knight said, "Move!" while Maron focused on saving the tavern and the detective, his voice rising: "Focus on saving the tavern... we must save the detective!"
After he finished speaking, he pointed toward the tavern, and everyone noticed Elias running at an astonishing speed, grabbing Maron's horse, cautiously pursuing the carriage.
The carriage sped to the left, and Elias followed it, riding a rare stallion belonging to Maron, while smoke and flames covered the sky.
Elias darted like an arrow, never looking back even for a moment; his eyes were fixed on the yellow carriage that began to disappear amidst the rising smoke.
Maron shouted in anger:
"Elias! Return immediately! That is an order!"
But the wind swallowed his voice, and nothing of it reached him.
Elias pulled the reins firmly, and the horse bolted at its maximum speed, its hooves striking the ground like the beating of drums, while the carriage ahead of him dashed between the narrow alleys, nearly colliding with the walls at every turn.
Inside the carriage...
The unknown knight was looking through the rear window, then smiled a faint smile and said:
"It seems we have got a guest."
He raised his iron rod and struck the roof of the carriage twice.
Suddenly, the carriage veered toward a rougher path, full of stones and remnants of burnt wood, as if the driver knew every corner of this city.
Outside...
Elias did not hesitate; instead, he urged his horse to enter right behind them.
The horse leaped over a broken barrel and slipped slightly, but Elias maintained his balance brilliantly, then whispered in a low voice:
"You won't escape me..."
He drew closer... and closer...
Until he was only a few meters away from the carriage.
He pulled out his dagger quickly and threw it toward the rear wheel.
But—
In a fleeting moment, the carriage door opened, and another knight rushed out, leaping directly toward Elias!
The bodies collided in the air, and the two fell to the ground, rolling violently, while the carriage continued to move forward without stopping.
Elias stood up with astonishing speed, grasping his sword, while his opponent stood before him, laughing softly.
The knight said, wiping the blood from his lips:
"You won't pursue it... not while you are alive."
Elias did not reply;
Instead, he rushed straight toward him.
The swords clashed, sparks flew, and the sound of metal shrieked in the empty street.
The unknown knight tried to buy time; he was defending more than attacking, retreating step after step...
But Elias did not give him any chance.
A strike—
Then another—
Then he spun around him with a swift movement and struck him with the hilt of the sword on his neck.
The knight fell to the ground unconscious.
Elias did not waste a single second.
He turned, mounted the horse again, and charged at the maximum possible speed...
But—
When he emerged from the alley...
He stopped.
The carriage... had disappeared.
Nothing remained except the tracks of its wheels on the ground... heading toward the outer road of the city.
Elias gritted his teeth and raised his gaze to the horizon.
Elias dashed after the carriage without hesitation, his eyes burning with anger, and his breath racing with the speed of the horse.
The carriage was rushing frantically across the narrow road, swaying right and left, as if whoever was driving it was trying to throw off any pursuer.
But Elias... was faster.
He drew closer... until he was almost alongside the carriage.
And at that moment—
He noticed something.
The unknown knight's hand... was extended outside the carriage, firmly clutching the chest, as if he feared it might be stripped from him even from within.
Elias narrowed his eyes, then whispered:
"Fool..."
He stabilized his feet on both sides of the horse, leaned his body slightly forward, and then drew his sword with a single sharp movement.
A brief moment of silence—
Then...
He lunged!
He leaped from atop his horse directly toward the carriage, and in mid-air, he swung his sword with all his might.
A clean cut.
A sharp cry pierced the air.
Blood sprayed, and the severed hand fell with the chest to the ground, while the knight inside the carriage lost his balance, screaming in frantic pain.
As for Elias, he hit the ground but rolled quickly, then stood up immediately, unbothered by the superficial wounds.
He picked up the chest in his hand without hesitation.
He raised his gaze toward the carriage, which had begun to slow down slightly due to the chaos inside... but he did not pursue it.
He settled for the chest.
He breathed deeply, then said in a cold voice:
"The mission is over."
He returned to his horse, mounted it quickly, and then turned back toward the burning tavern.
And when he arrived...
The flames had begun to subside a little, while Maron and the knights were trying to control the fire.
Elias leaped from his horse, stepped forward with steady strides, and then threw the chest before them.
He fell silent for a moment...
Then he said:
"They did not escape... but they won't get far."
Maron looked at the chest, then at Elias, before smiling a faint smile despite the exhaustion:
"Good... this chest is important."
But—
Inside the tavern...
Loran was still unconscious... between life and death.
Elias returned with quick steps toward the tavern, while the thick smoke rose from it like a roaring beast, and the fire consumed what remained of the wood.
Maron shouted, pointing his hand:
"You! With Elias—go in immediately! The detective is still inside!"
Elias did not wait any longer.
He wrapped a piece of cloth around his mouth and nose, then rushed inside without hesitation, followed by two knights.
Inside...
The scene was hellish.
The ceiling was collapsing gradually, the floor was covered in embers, and the sounds of burning were deafening.
Elias advanced with difficulty, pushing away the burning wood with his foot and sword, until he spotted a body lying near the shattered door.
"Loran!"
He bent down quickly, placing his hand on Loran's neck... a weak pulse... but it was there.
"He is alive! Help me!"
The two knights approached and carried Loran with him, while Elias shielded his head from falling debris.
But—
Elias stopped suddenly.
He looked toward the other side of the tavern...
Where a part of the ceiling had completely collapsed.
Beneath it...
The edge of a hand appeared.
Motionless.
Charred.
...Ben's hand.
Elias's features froze for a single second.
Then he gritted his teeth, and his eyes narrowed sharply.
One of the knights said in a tense voice:
"Sir... we cannot reach him... the ceiling is going to fall completely!"
At that moment, a burning wooden pillar fell directly in front of them, cutting off the path entirely.
Flames surged suddenly, as if sealing the end by themselves.
Elias lowered his gaze for a moment...
Then he said in a low, harsh voice:
"Let's get out now."
He turned quickly, helped carry Loran, and then they rushed out of the tavern before the remaining part of the ceiling collapsed entirely.
The ceiling collapsed right behind them, and the fire rose terrifyingly, announcing the end of everything inside.
Elias fell to his knee for a moment, catching his breath, while they placed Loran on the ground far from the fire.
Maron approached quickly, then knelt beside him:
"Is he—?"
Elias replied:
"Alive... barely."
A heavy silence prevailed...
Interrupted by one of the knights in a faint voice:
"And... Ben?"
No one replied.
Elias merely looked at the burning tavern, his eyes reflecting its flames...
Then he said with deadly calmness:
"...It's over."
Beneath the Imperial Palace, in a room illuminated by a lamp emitting a soft yellow light, there were some candles gently consuming the shadows. The room had no windows; its walls reflected the dim light, adding a sense of suffocation and isolation.
Inside, a man was writhing from the severity of torture, his voice rising in screams: "Save meeee!"
Freeze placed the knife on the table with a miserable sigh, his eyes directed toward the victim without mercy: "This man is extremely annoying... why doesn't he stop screaming?"
He said it in a low voice, as if whispering to himself, knowing that no one could hear him in this dark place.
The criminal fell to the floor, trying to untie his bonds with difficulty, his voice trembling: "S... S... Sssir Freeze... I am wronged... believe me... I am just a messenger to them... they won't care about my matter..."
Freeze's anger flared, and he struck his hand on the table, his voice becoming louder and sharper: "I told you that all of this will end by knowing that bastard's name... or anything about that organization, and I will let you go after that!"
Freeze adjusted his chair, while the man's tension increased, his eyes overflowing with tears, his back recoiling: "His name? No one knows his name... I've started to doubt he even has a name... Everyone calls him the 'Supreme Commander'... and there are some who call him 'My Lord'... This is the truth... believe me, I cannot tell you anything... my wife, my children, and my loved ones are in his hand... if I say anything, he will kill them immediately..."
Freeze looked at him coldly as he cut the apple deliberately, each piece striking the table with a sound resembling thunder in the silence of the room: "Fine... tell me their location, and we promise you they will be safe."
The man tried to rub his hand to escape, his voice trembling: "They are in his stronghold... all of them... he gathers our relatives and throws them into a single room... no... I know nothing about them..."
Freeze approached the man step by step, his voice low but charged with threat: "Fine... then all that—"
Suddenly, the door was violently opened, and one of the guards entered, his voice firm: "Mr. Freeze... Lord Kayden wants you."