The morning in Entrana was peaceful. Tristessa watched people walk by through the window, dressed in that old-fashioned way she was still getting used to, as if they'd stepped out of a history book about the era of the First Industrial Revolution. Which was certainly ironic since that city—or rather, the Empire, according to what she'd heard—was undergoing its own dawn of technological ascension thanks to the use of thaumaturgy and power crystals.

"I wonder how long it will take them to invent magi-tech-powered carriages instead of using those terrifying demons…" she thought, watching the vilecrosses waiting on their knees, heads bowed behind the pedestrian path, while passersby walked past them. They didn't even pay attention to them, accustomed to the presence of those hairy, burly monsters, full of sharp teeth and drooling nonstop. "… Poor things."

People walked to work, under the strict presence of Imperial soldiers patrolling the streets and enforcing order, eager for the well-deserved rest that would arrive in two days.

All of them unaware of the nightmarish darkness that would fall from the skies that night, though they had nothing to fear, protected by the Evil-Warding Pillar. All of them unaware of what would happen on the borders of the Sea of ​​Trees… And unconcerned, if only they knew that the Mercer-Archeos family would be massacred.

But Tristessa's confidence was on point. Now, more than ever, she was full of optimism. Two days ahead of schedule, and with the help of that blood elf leading the stagecoach toward the southern exit of the city, and with that gunslinger taking a well-deserved rest for having saved their lives.

As much as Severus claims it was thanks to her, it was more than obvious that the two of them were breathing because of Auron Casimir. That was the undeniable truth.

"Should I wake him?" she wondered, looking at Auron, very curious to know what his face looked like. Without that handkerchief hiding his nose and mouth. "Maybe if... No, I feel like he'll kill me if I even try."

Tristessa shook that stupid thought out of her head and continued staring out the window. Public transport flowed smoothly and without delay; among the carriages, wagons, and stagecoaches, they themselves were there, close to their first and only checkpoint.

"Five minutes, friends!" she heard Severus shout from outside, along with several knocks against the wooden wall.

"Already? Very well…"

The gunslinger sat upright in the seat and tossed his hat to the side. Without missing a beat, he made her give him her full attention.

"Now here's the plan, lady: Severus loaded up many of the Mercer-Archeos' belongings, and we'll set out on this stagecoach for the Sea of ​​Trees, under the guise of delivering supplies to that family. Something frowned upon…but not illegal. There shouldn't be any trouble with the guards if we leave the city. It's not normal for them to ask for passports from people that actually want to get out of the city… But, just in case, I have forged documentation. Better than the rubbish Katriel Strauss must have tried to use to get in."

Auron showed Tristessa two passports with glyph writing, small hand-made portraits of the two of them, and signatures and seals in most of their width and length. He also pulled out a map of the Dominion from inside his already curiously overstuffed jacket.

"Unless we're attacked by bandits or beasts along the way, we should reach the former House of Royal Hunters by noon tomorrow," he continued, the map open over his lap, showing Tristessa the same path she herself had taken on foot but on the reverse direction. "If the information you gave Severus is accurate, we should have plenty of time to prepare for the Coven's attack. We'll place precise magical traps between the forest and the house, and once those lunatics get caught off guard and fall into our spiderweb, we'll tear them apart with hollow-point ammunition and the elf's thaumaturgy."

Auron marked the area where he would place the traps, covering a large portion of land that would also leave the Coven witches completely exposed to long-distance attacks.

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"With all that say, we will certainly save the Mercer-Archeos. Without gaining honor, without earning a reward, and helping Lady Eramisaptor avoid having innocent civilians kidnapped and killed while she remains ignorant of our heroism," the gunslinger finished with extreme sarcasm, then put away the map and documents. "Any questions?"

Tristessa didn't know what to say. She was completely dumbfounded. Having heard this plan, premised on destroying the Coven and saving the family, filled her with enthusiasm. Because it sounded perfectly possible, and the gunslinger had said it with such confidence that she even was almost certain of their success.

It seemed too good to be true, and that led her to ask two closely related questions:

"Auron, why are you doing this? Why are you helping us?"

The gunslinger stared at her, visibly confused, until his hidden cheekbones rose a bit as he smiled and laughed.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm being paid for my services, lady!"

"Oh! W-well, yes, that makes sense…" she replied, in a faint whisper that, between the lines, expressed a certain conflict that Auron detected, causing him to cross his arms and look at her with coldness in those honey-colored eyes of his, judging her for her misguided innocence.

"Don't think I feel sorry for the Mercer-Archeos, or think I am on a crusade to defeat the minions of one of the [Great Evils] … No, I just want money," he replied, like any mercenary unbound by moral codes. "Just because the Coven plans to slaughter the family of one of its commanders, it won't keep me from sleeping at night. I want to be crystal clear about that, lady. I am no hero."

Tristessa could only nod without saying anything else, understanding that Auron had made his priorities and ambitions apparent from the first moment.

Hearing about the Gunslingers, knights on the same level as those called Imperial Guards, expressed nothing but greatness and honor. But Auron… He had already said he was no longer an imperial knight.

He was someone who had fallen from grace, and now he only cared about soul-jewels and opportunities to make money. That didn't mean she didn't like him though, but hearing him speak like that made her feel a constriction in her throat.

"Wasted potential to be a true hero," she thought, the first thing that came to mind, and instantly regretted it. "Someday I'll learn to stay out of other people's lives..."

She had already suffered the consequences of being like that. She didn't want to be on the gunslinger's bad side.

"...!"

That very moment, the stagecoach slowed to a complete stop. Tristessa's heart began to pound with the speed the transport had just lost, and her stomach threatened to turn the chicken sandwiches into an impossible-to-digest mess.

"Good morning, gentlemen and... m-miss!" they heard Severus shout from outside. "My aides and I are delivering supplies to a family long forgotten by the Gods! I won't say that set of surnames out loud so as not to offend them! And while I'm at it, I'll go find the mercenary I paid to conduct a reconnaissance in the Sea of ​​Trees!"

"Drop the sanctimonious act, Malak Drakan," Tristessa and Auron heard a male voice approaching as they walked toward the coach. Tristessa peered through the window and saw a helmetless, cloaked soldier approaching the left side of the driver's cabin, holding a stack of papers. "Only someone as problematic as you would be capable of showing mercy to that forlorn family."

"Come on, Captain! Doesn't the Heterodox Church teach us to forgive our brothers and sisters for their sins and embrace them? In order to walk together towards a single future?"

"Don't push your luck, elf… You! Go and conduct a full inspection!" Tristessa saw the captain pointing at someone she couldn't see.

"A full inspection?" the blood elf repeated. "Is it really necessary?"

The unease was evident in Severus's voice. Something was wrong, even with the precautions taken. Tristessa felt a squeeze on her shoulder and turned her head quickly to see Auron asking her to remain calm using only his gaze.

"Recent events, events of no concern to civilians like you, have prompted us to reinforce both external and internal security."

The sound of footsteps and the metal of armor plates soon reached the door of the coach, and as it opened, a woman leaned and stepped inside.

Both Auron and Tristessa froze—surprised by the unexpectedness of the situation—as did the woman, who was none other than Astoria Silverthorn.

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