MTM 45

Zed went to the horse cowering in the corner of an alley, to the old man resting under the bridge to avoid the flames, and to the children who had lost their parents. He calmed the frightened horse, checked the old man’s condition, and placed his hand on the heads of the children who still smiled innocently even in this chaos while he tracked Leon.

Harto gave water to the thirsty horse, took off his cloak for the old man, and shared the leftover apple pie with the children. Zed had told him to eat it himself, but there had been too much for one person.

Harto thought that if he could, he wished he could use his power to put out the fire. Maybe he could create something like the water cannon from a fire hose. He had never tried it, but when he ate enough to feel full, he always found the strength, so he thought it might be possible.

“Harto, this way.”

Zed called to him as he entered a narrow street. When they went in, the two climbed the stairs leading up the hill.

“Are you sure Leon went up here?”

“Yes.”

Zed spoke while recalling the memory he had seen when he had placed his hand on the child’s head earlier.

“I saw someone with star-shaped earrings go this way.”

“Ah…”

That had to be Leon. In Belnok, no one else wore star-shaped earrings but him.

“The wind’s strong, be careful.”

When Harto climbed the steps and reached the top of the hill, Zed stood behind him and blocked the wind. Harto’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Ah, this place…”

It was the back side of the cathedral. Maybe because of the wind, the fire had not spread much here. Even so, parts of the structure had collapsed.

Beyond the broken wall, they saw the marble hall they had visited that morning. All the gold-engraved corridors were blocked, and the paintings had been shattered and scattered on the floor. The gray stone door was the same. It seemed to have been blown away, leaving the stairs leading to the underground prison completely exposed.

‘Could Leon have gone down there?’

Harto stared at the stairs leading to the underground prison. Zed’s expression told him that his guess was probably right.

“I don’t know why Leon went down there either, but maybe he had something he needed to retrieve.”

Harto remembered the moss worm that had been in the place where Leon, disguised as a gatekeeper, had handed them the key.

“Zed…”

Even as he nodded, Harto caught the hem of Zed’s coat as he started toward the stairs and spoke.

“I have a bad feeling…”

He couldn’t explain it clearly, but something felt ominous.

“I know.”

Zed answered briefly, as if he already understood what Harto feared. He was determined not to back away, even if it was a trap.

Harto nodded without saying anything. He would have made the same choice. It could be called a short connection, but Leon had been his favorite character in the story, and more than that, Leon was Zed’s comrade. Just as Zed had become precious to him, Leon was precious to Zed.

Following Zed down the stairs, Harto shivered at the cold air that hadn’t been there in the morning. It was because he had given his cloak to the old man.

“Harto, if you’re cold, I can give you mine.”

“Ah…”

Did he have eyes on the back of his head? Touched by Zed’s kindness, Harto quickly told him he was fine and urged him to go faster. Finding Leon was more important than the cold. Zed might need his cloak more.

After descending for a while, they reached the entrance of the underground prison. The atmosphere was permeated with the same damp smell of that morning.

“Step back for a moment.”

“Okay.”

When Harto stepped back up the stairs, Zed opened the unlocked iron gate. Holding his weapon, he cautiously moved, then abruptly stopped.

“Leon…?”

At the end of the prison corridor, inside a magical cage large enough for a person, Leon lay unconscious.

“Zed? Is Leon there?”

As Harto peeked through the bars,

Boom!

A loud explosion shook the ground, and the ceiling began to collapse.

“Harto…!”

Zed pulled Harto into his arms and shielded him with his body. Massive chunks of stone fell, and darkness swallowed everything.

Thud…

After a while, when the falling debris stopped and the dust settled in the underground, Zed carefully checked Harto’s condition.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes… Zed, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. But…”

Zed looked past the ruined structure. Through the gray dust, he saw a dark silhouette.

‘So it finally shows itself.’

Zed clenched his teeth. From the moment he had entered Belnok, he had felt someone watching him. At first, he had thought it was just the strict atmosphere of a guarded city, but even after the cathedral’s explosion, when the guards and holy knights had all fled, that feeling had not left him.

He had wanted to leave this city with Harto.

‘Zed, after we find Leon… should we help put out the fire too?’

But at Harto’s selfless question, which he asked as if it were obvious, Zed could not answer yes. No, it was the time to fight and end the past properly.

Whoosh

Wind roared through the broken ceiling. It swept away the thick dust, and the enemy’s forms slowly appeared.

There were three of them. All wore black robes that covered their heads and silver masks shaped like long beaks.

Fwoosh.

The one standing in the middle raised a hand and created black flames. Zed realized that this was the illusionist who controlled the crows that had attacked him and his comrades.

‘Those bastards… they killed my men…’

Zed forced down the burning rage in his chest. Normally, he would have charged at them, but now Leon was being held captive, and Harto, who could easily become a weakness, was here too.

And besides…

‘Only the one in the middle has strong magical power.’

That meant the other two were probably martial fighters or assassins who used weapons rather than magic.

When you couldn’t grasp your enemy’s plan, it was best to provoke them first and pull out information. That was the method Zed had learned in three years of fighting and surviving as a mercenary.

Thud.

Zed stepped toward the enemies. He drew his sword, took a stance, and shouted loudly.

“Remove your masks and reveal who you are!”

Then one of the three, who had not moved at all until now, answered in a low voice.

“…There’s no reason to reveal ourselves to someone who will soon be dead.”

Whip

As if that were the signal, the two on either side lunged toward Zed. Their movements were so fast that even their footsteps made no sound. They were trained assassins.

Zed lowered his stance in front of Harto and focused on their movement. The two ran in a zigzag pattern to confuse him, and from the robe of one of them, something sparkled.

Zed dropped his sword hilt, brushing the floor, then drove the blade up the moment the enemy came close.

“Ugh!”

Clang!

The dagger flew from the enemy’s hand and struck the wall.

Ssshh White smoke rose from the blade where it stuck. Thick black poison coated the metal.

Zed stepped back when he realized they had prepared so thoroughly to kill him. The assassins also stopped advancing, keeping their distance, having realized that Zed was no ordinary opponent.

Keeping his eyes on the enemies, Zed spoke to Harto behind him.

“Harto, can you transform into your monster form and stay on my back?”

He said it because he judged that fighting like this would be too difficult otherwise.

“I can, but… Zed, I want to help too…”

“You want to help me?”

“Ye… yes…”

Harto answered in a trembling voice. He didn’t mean it as a boast of his ability. Inside this underground prison, with the collapsed structures, the falling drops from the ceiling, and the heavy dust in the air, he thought he might be able to defend against the enemies’ attacks.

“Can you really attack?”

“A… attack?”

At the word “attack,” not “defend,” Harto’s eyes widened.

“Yes. The space is too narrow, so the longer the fight drags on, the worse it’ll be for us. They have more people too. We have to strike fast and kill them at once. Can you do it?”

The unexpected question caught Harto off guard. He remembered Zed’s earlier words.

‘Only use the dagger when you really mean to strike an enemy. If you just wave it around to threaten or defend yourself, you’ll only be mocked.’

Harto’s cheeks turned red. He felt ashamed that he had said he wanted to help but hadn’t even thought of drawing his dagger. Maybe clinging to Zed’s back like a burden would help more than fumbling uselessly.

“…Then let’s do this.”

Then Zed, as if a new idea had come to him, suddenly stretched out his arm toward Harto.