The market square bustled with the usual evening crowd—merchants hawking their wares, children darting between stalls, and the smell of roasted chestnuts mixing with the stench of fish from the nearby docks.

Two cloaked figures moved through the chaos like shadows, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of years working together.

"Third one this week," the taller figure muttered, jerking his chin toward a group of white-robed priests gathering near the fountain. Their golden sun emblems gleamed in the fading light—the symbol of Goddess Fuero.

The shorter figure grunted. "Makes no damn sense. This close to Count Redwood's territory? The old bastard hates having the church sniffing around his lands."

They paused at a fruit stand, pretending to examine apples while watching the priests distribute what looked like pamphlets to anyone who'd take them. The taller one picked up an apple, turning it over in his hands.

"Boss is gonna want to know about this."

"Boss already knows. Why do you think we're meeting at Marla's?"

The marketplace thinned as they moved toward the eastern district where the buildings pressed closer together and the streets narrowed into winding alleys. The café sat tucked between a blacksmith's shop and a rundown tavern, its windows fogged with condensation. A small wooden sign swung above the door—Marla's Rest.

Inside, the warmth hit them immediately. The café was nearly empty, just a few scattered customers nursing their drinks. In the corner booth furthest from the door sat a figure, hood pulled low. They approached without hesitation.

"Took you long enough," came a woman's voice, sharp and cutting.

The two men slid into the booth across from her. She reached up and pulled back her hood, revealing a cascade of deep red hair that fell past her shoulders. What caught attention wasn't the hair though—it was the intricate marking that ran from her left temple down to her cheekbone, a pattern that seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light. More marks peeked out from the collar of her shirt, disappearing beneath the fabric.

Kaida looked barely into her twenties, her face still carrying that youthful edge. But those marks? They told a different story. Each one represented a breakthrough in cultivation, a barrier shattered. For someone so young to have so many...

"Well?" She leaned back, folding her arms across her chest. "Don't just sit there like idiots. Report."

The taller man cleared his throat. "Same as Mark reported yesterday. Priests everywhere. Not just in the market—we spotted them at the northern checkpoint, the granary, even talking to farmers outside the walls."

"They're recruiting," the shorter one added. "Offering blessings, promising protection from whatever the hell they think is coming."

Kaida's eyes narrowed. 'The church doesn't move without reason. And they definitely don't waste resources on backwater territories unless...'

"How many?"

"Rough count? We've seen at least thirty different priests in the last four days. Could be more rotating through."

Thirty. In a territory the church had ignored for decades. Kaida drummed her fingers on the table, her mind working through possibilities.

The 56th Squadron wasn't exactly prestigious—lowest of the low when it came to the Royal Guard's special units.

They got stuck with countryside patrol duty while the higher-ranked squadrons protected the capital and major cities. But that also meant they saw things others missed.

"Did you—"

"Ma'am!" A cheerful voice interrupted. A young waitress appeared beside their table, her smile bright and practiced. "What can I get you folks today?"

Kaida's expression didn't change. "The usual, Marla. And whatever these two idiots want."

"Just water," both men said in unison.

Marla laughed, but there was something knowing in her eyes. "One special order coming right up. Be just a minute."

She disappeared into the back. The café continued its quiet hum around them—the clink of cups, low murmured conversations, the hiss of the heating stove.

"So what's the play, boss?" the shorter man asked. "We keep watching them or—"

"Shut it," Kaida cut him off, her gaze fixed on Marla as she emerged from the back room.

The waitress returned carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea and two glasses of water. She set them down with practiced ease, but as she placed Kaida's cup, a folded piece of paper slipped from her sleeve onto the table.

"Enjoy," Marla said sweetly, already turning away.

Kaida palmed the paper smoothly, taking a sip of her tea before unfolding it beneath the table. Her eyes scanned the contents, and something cold settled in her gut.

'Subject: Martius "The Ironbreaker" Venn - Status: Deceased. Location: Northern forest border. Cause: Unknown. Body recovered by church forces.'

The Ironbreaker. A legend who'd been operating in the shadows for thirty years. Dead. And the church had gotten to him first.

She refolded the paper, tucking it into her coat. Her mind raced. 'First the increased activity, now this. They're not just recruiting—they're hunting.'

"Marla," Kaida called out, her voice casual. "Come here a second."

The waitress approached, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes?"

"Why's the church moving so heavy lately?" Kaida kept her tone light, conversational. "Thought they'd written off this territory years ago."

Marla's smile never wavered, but she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping. "You haven't heard? There's been a prophecy."

Kaida's blood went cold. 'Prophecy.' "What prophecy?"

"From the new Saintess herself," Marla said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "Just became the Apostle of Goddess Fuero a few months back. Made her first official prophecy three weeks ago."

'A new Saintess.' Kaida's internal alarm bells were screaming now. Saintess were rare—individuals blessed directly by the goddess with divine sight. The church treated their words as absolute truth. And a new one making prophecies right after her ascension? That was unheard of.

"What did she say?" Kaida demanded, her composure cracking slightly.

Marla leaned in even closer. "That a power capable of changing the world's entire balance is about to emerge. Right here. In the backwaters of Eldoria Kingdom."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

'What the actual fuck.'

Kaida felt her eye twitch. "Are they seriously believing some newbie's fever dream?" She couldn't keep the disbelief from her voice. "Backwaters? They let this place rot for decades—DECADES—and now suddenly there's some world-changing power about to pop up?"

Her fist clenched on the table, knuckles going white. Then she forced herself to relax, finger by finger. Getting emotional wouldn't help. Facts. She needed facts.

"What's the name of this Saintess?" Kaida asked, her voice returning to its usual controlled tone.

"Lady Cassandra," Marla replied. "Young thing, apparently. Rose through the church ranks like wildfire. They say she—"

The café door swung open with enough force to make several customers jump. Another cloaked figure strode in, heading straight for their booth. He slammed a sealed letter onto the table in front of Kaida.

"Boss," he said, slightly out of breath. "Just came through. Priority delivery."

Kaida snatched the letter, breaking the seal with her thumb. Her eyes scanned the contents quickly.

'Effective immediately: Squadron Leader Kaida granted 1 year personal leave. Report to Capital upon return.'

One year. She just returned from vacation of 1 month few days ago. And the timing, right when everything was going to shit...

'They're pulling me out. Probably think I'll cause trouble if I dig too deep into this prophecy business.'

She instantly realized the hidden reason for this stunt to be pulled by low-grade, bribe-hunting bastards seated on chairs.

"So, boss," the newcomer said with a grin, "beers on you to celebrate?"

Kaida's mouth twitched. "Like hell I'm going to pay for you pigs."

All three men chuckled, the tension breaking slightly. But Kaida was already running calculations. Two weeks. She could work with that.

"By the way," the shorter man said, "where you heading for your vacation? You never talk about where you're from."

Kaida stood, tucking the letter into her coat alongside the information about the Ironbreaker.

Her mind was already elsewhere, thinking about home.

About the small village she'd visited last month, where nothing ever happened.

"Millbrook," she said simply.

The name fell from her lips like a stone dropping into still water.

She checked her weapons beneath her cloak—twin daggers at her hips, throwing knives in her boots. Everything in place.

The church was mobilizing, a legendary operative was dead, and some fresh-faced Saintess thought a world-changing power was brewing in nowhere-lands.

'Coincidence? Not fucking likely.'

"Wait, boss," the taller man called as she headed for the door. "Are you really leaving tonight? It's already dark, and the roads—"

"Piss off!" Kaida shot back, throwing up her middle finger without looking back.

The cold night air hit her face as she stepped outside. The market had mostly cleared, just a few stragglers packing up their stalls.

Above, clouds obscured the moon, making the streets even darker than usual.

Kaida pulled her hood back up and started walking before climbed her horse and pulled reign.

NEIIGGHHH!!

"LET'S GO RUST... TO OUR VILLAGE!"

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