Cyrus felt a desperate tug on his shirt. Though Neno remained silent, his eyes spoke volumes, pleading for intervention. Cyrus swallowed hard, gathering his courage before speaking.

"He's already admitted he didn't allow the bureau onto the island," Cyrus reasoned, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "Marko and Prid were both in danger at the time. There must be more to this story than we know."

Leora's grip on the massive sword tightened, her knuckles whitening. "He sold us to the bureau, Cyrus," she replied, her voice cold and sharp as the blade she held. "His reasons are irrelevant. We were lucky the karmic monster appeared, or we would have died at the bureau's hands." Her eyes met his, filled with a mixture of pain and resolve. "For someone who has survived a direct confrontation with Nemesis, you know this is true."

She paused, her next words carrying the weight of grim finality. "My mother always says, 'Cut the tree at the root to prevent it from spreading.' I hate to admit it, but she's right." With that, Leora lifted the sword skyward, its polished surface catching the fading sunlight.

Cyrus watched, his heart racing, as Leora's hands visibly trembled. Was it from the sheer weight of the weapon, or something deeper, buried in the recesses of her heart? Though he held no particular affection for Prid, neither did he harbor enough hatred to wish for his death. But it was Leora who truly concerned him. Killing for survival was one thing; executing a defenseless man was something entirely different.

How did he know this was troubling her? It was simple – Leora was typically decisive, acting without hesitation once her mind was set. Yet now, she faltered, the sword wavering in her grasp.

"Do it," Prid's voice cut through the tension, startling them all. "Do it now or later, it doesn't really matter. Your family killed us once; it wouldn't matter if you do it again, Arrogant Lion." A bitter smile twisted Prid's features, his veins bulging with the intensity of his emotions. Cyrus could feel the immense hatred radiating from those eyes. He found himself wondering why the lion and panther canines were at such odds when they were both bites.

Cyrus knew Dargos had wanted to reveal the queen's secret because of their code of honor. He wasn't entirely surprised, having already witnessed the lengths to which the bites would go to uphold their rules. Yet Prid's hatred seemed to run deeper than mere adherence to a code. The queen's secret appeared almost meaningless in comparison – so much so that Prid had betrayed his family's honor by colluding with the bureau. But why?

"Do it, Arrogant Lion," Marko's father insisted, his voice dripping with anticipation.

The sword whistled through the air, descending with terrifying speed. Suddenly, a shadow flashed across the deck, quick as lightning. A thunderous clash of energies sent everyone stumbling backward. Blood trickled down Cyrus's arm, and he grimaced at the excruciating pain.

The sword clattered to the deck with a resounding metallic clang. "Are you crazy?" Leora cried, her eyes wide with shock. "You could have lost your arm!"

Cyrus, clutching his bleeding hand, met her gaze steadily. "You cannot undo what your family did," he said softly, "but you're not obliged to follow the same path."

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Leora blinked rapidly, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain composure. The sword had nearly severed Cyrus's hand; if she hadn't stopped at the last moment... "Leora," Cyrus continued, his voice gentle but firm, "I don't want you to resemble her. I don't want to lose you – the real you."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. A soft smile played at the corners of Leora's lips as she clenched her hands, looking down. When she spoke again, her voice had regained its usual strength and poise.

"You said you wanted to make amends," she addressed Marko's father. "I want you to let him go and forget about his debt to you."

Prid's eyes widened in disbelief as he lifted his head. Marko's father considered for a moment before nodding. "I indeed said that," he conceded. With a wave of his hand, he commanded, "You can leave."

The guards roughly seized Prid and unceremoniously threw him overboard. A loud splash echoed across the water as his body hit the waves. "I hope he knows how to swim as well as he knows how to lie," Marko's father remarked dryly, taking another sip from his glass as he turned to go below deck.

Before disappearing into the boat's interior, he paused, his voice carrying a final, cryptic message. "Now our debt is paid. One last thing – I have someone who might know where to find the primordial canine. He's at the Eldor magic school. Tell him it's the Murmurer." With that, he vanished like a shadow in the night.

Leora opened her umbrella with a soft click. "Let's go," she said simply, and the trio made their way to the portal, leaving the opulent vessel and its enigmatic owner behind.

Some time later, the group found themselves seated in a helicopter, admiring the scenery as they approached their destination. The shadows of buildings began to emerge on the horizon, signaling their imminent arrival.

Neno, gripping the door handle with white-knuckled intensity, let out a nervous whimper. "Uh... this is such tedious work," he complained. "Why couldn't we simply teleport there?"

Cyrus, finding amusement in Neno's obvious fear of flying, explained with a hint of mischief in his voice, "Magic schools are exactly like separate domains on Marko's island. We can't teleport inside without help from within. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a magical school anymore." He paused for effect before adding, "Don't worry, it's just 500 meters above the earth – nothing big."

Neno's eyes widened in terror as he gripped Cyrus's shirt even tighter. Cyrus's laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in his head. "Ouch!" he yelped, rubbing the sore spot. "Can we exchange places, Neno? I can't stand this demon anymore."

"Take care of your wounds and stop scaring him," Leora admonished without looking up from her book, "or you're going to fly while holding onto a rope, believe me."

Cyrus leaned to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of what had captured Leora's attention so completely. She was always reading, but never shared the contents of her books. "Are you worried about me?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "I heard you kept visiting me when I almost passed out."

Leora shot him a pointed glare, causing Neno to mumble a quick apology and lower his head. Then, unexpectedly, her expression softened, and she smiled – a rare, radiant expression that seemed to illuminate her entire being. "Of course I was worried," she admitted. "You count for a lot to me."

Emboldened, Cyrus leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. "Really?" he asked, hope evident in his voice.

Leora's cheeks flushed pink as she shoved him playfully aside. "You're a walking investment, of course," she retorted, regaining her composure. "I can't let you die so easily."

Cyrus's face fell, his expression a comical mix of disappointment and disbelief. Investment? Was she serious?

Before he could pursue the matter further, the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "Here we are. Eldor magic school."

As the helicopter began its descent, the trio peered out the windows, taking in their first glimpse of the legendary institution that might hold the key to finding the primordial canine – and perhaps unraveling the mysteries that had led them to this moment.