Jarvarax slammed his hands on the table as hard as he could. Captain Nahar did not even flinch.

“Do not play dumb with me, captain,” Jarvarax snarled at him. “There is no one else on this ship except us and you lot.”

“Sir Jarvarax, I can attest to the innocence of my crew. They—”

“Are you implying that assassin was one of us?” His voice grew deeper, clearly insulted. “The ones who attacked Kalaman were two hooded figures, one male and one female. The only other man in the party other than Kalaman himself is me, and I am sure that if it was me, captain, it would have been obvious.”

Nahar waved his hands. “I am not suggesting such a thing, heaven’s, no. But sir Jarvarax, me and my men aren’t strong. Sure, we could hold our own in a fight if we had to, but our strength was in numbers, which we do not have right now. We would not have any need for escorts otherwise. I find it hard to believe that we’d have the confidence to dare take on the Dragonslayer in our state. At the very least, if I was the assassin, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to give that command.”

“Even if you say that, the assassin exists, and he is on this ship.”

“...A third party.” Nahar placed his hands down and repeatedly tapped the table with his fingers, as if he was nervous. “Someone who is not affiliated with your group, nor my crew has invaded the ship. Either they are hiding within the galleon, evading sight, or they are posing to be one of us. In any case, this is a problem we both share, and one you should resolve quickly.”

“We should resolve it, you say?” Jarvarax growled at him, yet the captain wasn’t even intimidated in the slightest.

“Remember what you were hired for,” he said. “Though the assassin has mainly targeted sir Kalaman for now, they are still an enemy to us as well. We don’t know if their main quarry is sir Kalaman, or if they’ve simply decided to get rid of any obstacles in killing us. Either way, you should do what you do best.”

The captain stared at Jarvarax dead in the eyes. For some reason, they felt so familiar to him. Nahar’s eyes looked like bottomless holes.

Jarvarax didn’t like this captain. Not in the slightest.

However, after taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Jarvarax left the room with a simple nod.

He didn’t buy anything Nahar just said. If anything, that conversation only served to strengthen Jarvarax’s doubts about the crew.

The question is, what should he do about it now?

Should he just tell Kalaman and the others?

...No, they don’t need to be involved in this. Everything that didn’t need to be handled by the Dragonslayer’s brute force, Jarvarax and Ques were able to handle. The two of them, together, kept the team up and running. And even without Ques, Jarvarax was able to keep everything together, too, if only for a few months.

That, alone, is proof that Ques still lives. They don’t need to replace him, and Jarvarax was going to prove it.

With his goal set, he needed to find a way to achieve it. Killing Nahar right here and now posed too many risks. If the entire crew were assassins who shared Nahar’s ideals, then killing him won’t stop the rest. Killing the entire crew wouldn’t be wise, either. No one in their party knew how to steer a ship or navigate the seas. There was also the chance that Nahar was right, and he wasn’t part of the assassination plot, in which case killing him wouldn’t do anything.

Time. Jarvarax needed time. He needed to bide his time and observe, gather more clues, and find a conclusive answer. He wasn’t like Ques, who could figure out the most perplexing mysteries with minimal clues faster than he could blink.

But so long as he had time, Jarvarax could do it. It would definitely give the assassins more time to act, but that was fine. Their target was Kalaman, and it would take more than a couple of assassins to bring him down.

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Jarvarax took a deep breath, and walked confidently. Right now, he felt Ques Van Lendi’s hands on his back, pushing him forward.

He felt as if he could do anything, as long as he was here.

†

“It wasn’t me ... I ... I didn’t ... I didn’t kill her...”

Armei’s voice was, contrary to how it usually was, very soft and frail, quivering as though it would be blown away by the wind at any moment. Jarvarax almost couldn’t hear it. He didn’t know if it was because her voice was just that quiet, or because his mind and body felt so incredibly numb.

“...It is fine,” Jarvarax mustered a reply. “I know, Armei. You ... this could not have...”

The words weren’t coming out right. He felt as though his thoughts were just barely working, just enough to process the situation, but his own body felt like collapsing.

Armei was by the doorway, leaning against it to support herself.

Jarvarax was right in front of the bed, looking down on it.

And on the bed was Remina, burns on her skin, a hole through her neck.

Red.

The bedsheets were supposed to be white, but...

“...Armei, go find Kalaman.”

Jarvarax said. They had to something except just stand there and watch this scene. Right now, the party’s leader had to be informed.

But there was no reply from the half-elf.

“Armei?”

Jarvarax turned around to see an empty doorway. Sometime during his daze, Armei had already left. He couldn’t hear her footsteps ... no, that’s not right. Armei was terrible at sneaking, especially when her emotions were agitated. It’s just that Jarvarax wasn’t paying attention.

He looked back at Remina. Her face looked so peaceful. Solemn. It was like she had accepted what happened to her at the moment. She was always the “in-the-moment” type.

This was the second time he had seen the face of a dead comrade.

It was during the end of the Mambhaling civil war. The battle had been won, and the city was quelled. The party had been separated, all doing their own things in separate parts of the city. When they regrouped, only Ques was missing.

And when they were heading back to the inn, they stumbled across his body on the side of the road.

Nobody knew how he died.

Nobody knew who did it.

Nobody ever saw his final moments

He just ... got killed amidst the chaos.

On his resting face wasn’t peace and solemnity. It was fear. Two comrades whose deaths he never witnessed, having two opposing expressions.

When Jarvarax died, what expression would be on his face?

He didn’t even need to ask. The answer was clear.

At this rate, his final expression would be one of regret.

This was his own fault. He had misjudged the enemy. Time was never something he had. He made a decision, and it was the wrong one. The only one who bore the responsibility was him, and it was his responsibility to set things right.

He knew what he needed to do all along. He should’ve done it from the very start.

His footsteps were so heavy they caused cracks in the floorboards. The whole ship was swaying, no thanks to the storm outside. Jarvarax would be flung to a wall as the ship danced, but he still continued forward.

He made a beeline towards the captain’s quarters, where Nahar was leaning against his desk. Hearing his door open, he raised his head and met with Jarvarax’s eyes.

“Sir Jarvarax, what is going on out there?” he asked in an urgent tone. “I sent my men to investigate that loud noise from earlier, but no one has ... huh? sir Jarvarax, what are you...?”

Ignoring his every word, Jarvarax simply walked towards him. Without hesitation, he grabbed his spear from his back, and in one quick motion, thrust it towards the captain, aiming towards his neck.

There was barely any resistance. Rather, Nahar couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. Jarvarax might not be as strong as Kalaman, but he was certainly fast—fast enough that Nahar wouldn’t be able to dodge.

It was quick and silent. The captain’s vocal cords were severed almost instantly; there was no chance for him to even scream. Blood trickled down his throat, staining his clothes. The moment Jarvarax removed his spear, all that blood would no doubt come pouring out.

His eyes were of shock, confusion, and anger. They weren’t the eyes of a scared and helpless merchant captain. They were eyes that have seen bloodshed and battle before. They glared at Jarvarax coldly.

It finally clicked in Jarvarax’s head. When they were talking before, he noticed that the captain’s eyes felt so familiar. Now he gets it.

That coldness in his eyes was the same as Kalaman’s.

But that didn’t matter. Not to Jarvarax.

He removed his spear, painting the entire desk with a deep red. The captain slumped over it, motionless. Outside, the oceans raged. But Jarvarax felt calm. For the first time in weeks, he felt at ease.

This was a crude solution. But it didn’t matter anymore. Even if he had to kill the entire crew and sail them back to shore himself, Jarvarax will save his party.

Because Ques could do it.

Jarvarax chuckled. He smiled. And before long, he was guffawing like a lunatic. He laughed so hard he could barely breath. I must be going mad, he thought.

But that was fine. He could handle a bit of insanity.

Right now, he was in his element. He was free.

If Ques was here, then he would definitely solve this conundrum immediately. He’d definitely end it here.

And just like that, Jarvarax knew what he had to do.