Cautiously, Kawao and Koru walked through the streets of Kurani. They tried to move unnoticed, blending into the crowd.

It was clear from the looks on people's faces that they were afraid. But there was more. Anger! They were furious. Kawao couldn’t blame them.

After all, it was him who had destroyed half the city during his fight. He wanted to apologize and try to make it right, but that would only get them into even more trouble right now. Not to mention all the soldiers patrolling the city, searching for them.

But what worried him most was their rescuer. She hadn’t told them her name, saying she wouldn’t reveal it until they had left the city. And she had gone to the Kurani garrison alone. He was a bit concerned.

----------------------------------------

Meanwhile, outside the garrison:

"You’re supposed to protect us from things like this!"

"That’s why we pay taxes!"

"Do something already!"

Filled with anger and frustration, large crowds had gathered in front of the army headquarters in Kurani to express their disappointment. The soldiers had managed to close the gates just in time, preventing anyone from entering the premises.

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From his office on the second floor, Makon observed the situation.

'How did it come to this?' he asked himself, irritated as he looked at the crowd.

'Why did that bastard cause such an uproar here? He’s going to regret it when he wakes up!'

Fetu had lost consciousness shortly after the fight and had been lying in his room at the garrison ever since. Makon would have loved nothing more than to throw Fetu to the crowd, to watch as they figuratively tore him apart.

He sighed heavily. Now he had to figure out how to clean up this mess.

At that moment, a window to his left shattered. Surprised and enraged, he turned around.

'Are they throwing stones now?'

But it wasn’t a stone. Kneeling before him was a cloaked figure, looking at him sharply from the side.

"Who are y—?" he began, but before he could finish, he was thrown with tremendous force through the wall behind him.

A long, intricately designed staff made of pure flames extended from the figure’s hand, pressing against the now prone Makon. With a sweeping motion, the staff vanished, and the figure stood up.

Outside, frightened and still angry shouts could be heard. With a jolt, Makon got back on his feet.

"Are you the one who fought Fet—?" he started again, before another staff sent him crashing through three more walls.

The figure now turned toward the door leading out of Makon’s office, behind which the sound of many approaching footsteps could be heard.

"Time to get to work!" the figure said and set off.