Raphael moved quietly through the bustling streets of Balmount Kingdom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the crowded marketplace. Beastkin and humans alike mingled in the lively street, vendors calling out their wares in a symphony of shouts and bartering. Stalls were lined with everything from fresh produce to finely crafted tools, the smell of spices and baked bread filling the air. Beastkin merchants, with fur-covered hands, handed colorful fruits to humans, while tailors showed off vibrant fabrics in a kaleidoscope of colors. Children laughed, darting between the legs of the busy shoppers, their joy infectious in the lively environment.
Raphael’s eyes wandered over the scene, briefly catching the laughter of the children before he turned away, his mind elsewhere. He took a left, disappearing down a quieter street before stopping in front of a small, inconspicuous inn. The building was modest in size, its wooden sign swaying gently with the breeze, announcing its name in faded lettering. The inn’s door creaked as Raphael pushed it open, stepping inside.
The inn’s interior was simple but welcoming, with wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling and a stone hearth at one end. The air smelled faintly of herbs and fresh bread, a pleasant contrast to the noisy world outside. In the corner of the room, an innkeeper sat behind the counter—a young man with dark red hair tinged with brown, his eyes alert. The innkeeper wore a simple tunic and pants, typical of someone of his station, with a sturdy leather apron tied around his waist, the kind often worn by those accustomed to working with their hands. He smiled warmly when he saw Raphael.
"Good day, Raphael. How was your day?" the innkeeper asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.
Raphael shook his head slightly, a shadow crossing his face. "Not too great," he replied with a sigh.
The innkeeper’s face shifted to concern as he reached under the counter, retrieving a small brass key. "I’m sorry to hear that," he said softly, handing the key to Raphael. "No one’s come asking for you, if that’s what you’re wondering."
Raphael nodded, his mind elsewhere. "Thank you," he muttered, taking the key. As he turned to go, he paused, casting a glance back at the innkeeper. "Is my sister alright?"
The innkeeper smiled and nodded. "She’s sleeping soundly. I checked on her myself, made sure she was comfortable."
Raphael’s shoulders relaxed slightly at the news. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice softer now. He made his way up the stairs, the floorboards creaking faintly under his boots. The hallway was narrow, dimly lit by the fading light filtering through the small windows. Reaching his door, Raphael inserted the key and quietly let himself inside.
The room was small, barely large enough for a bed, a worn wooden chair, and a narrow dresser. There was a single window, high and small, too narrow for anyone to enter or leave through, serving only to let in the evening breeze. The walls were bare, save for a few scuff marks, and the floor was worn smooth from years of use.
Raphael stepped softly across the floor, his movements silent as he approached a small wooden cradle in the corner. Inside the cradle, a tiny baby girl slept soundly, her curly brown hair framing her face. She wore a simple cotton dress, the fabric soft and worn, fitting for a child of modest means. Her peaceful face seemed to glow in the soft light of the room.
Raphael knelt beside her, gently brushing a hand over her cheek. Lily stirred slightly in her sleep, her tiny lips curling into a smile at the familiar touch. Raphael smiled too, though it was tinged with sadness. In his mind, he thought, I’m sorry, Lily. But your big brother won’t be able to sleep tonight.
His thoughts drifted back to the night he had found her. It had been a mission, like so many others, given to him by the boss. More than thirty people had died that night, and Raphael had been powerless to save them. The memory was vivid: he stood alone among the bodies, blood staining the floor, his breath heavy as the chaos finally settled. As he prepared to leave, he heard it—a baby’s cry.
Following the sound, he found a man lying behind a table, mortally wounded but still clinging to life. In his arms was the crying infant, her tiny body bundled up in a bloodstained cloth.
"There, there, Eris," the man whispered softly to the baby, trying to soothe her. He glanced up, his eyes locking onto Raphael, his voice hoarse. "It’s you…"
Raphael, startled, didn’t know how to respond. "I’m sorry, but I can’t…" He raised his dagger, ready to put the man and child out of their misery. "It would be better if she dies with her father."
The man smiled weakly. "I know you can’t kill a baby, Raphael," he whispered, stunning Raphael with his words.
Raphael knelt beside the man, grabbing him by the collar, ignoring the wails of the infant. "How do you know me?" he demanded.
With his dying breath, the man replied, "Death himself… told me." And then, he was gone, leaving Raphael with more questions than answers.
As the rain poured down outside, Raphael had fled the scene, the child still crying in his arms. He had stood atop a building, watching as knights entered the blood-soaked room below, their leader barking orders. "Find any survivors!" one of the knights shouted, his silver armor gleaming under the dim moonlight.
Raphael had looked down at the child, her cries growing softer in the rain. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t leave her there. The rain fell in heavy droplets, soaking through his clothes, but he shielded the baby from the downpour.
"Lily," he whispered, as if the name had simply come to him. "Your name is Lily."
Back in the present, Raphael stood over the cradle, watching Lily’s peaceful sleep. The day was ending, and he knew he couldn’t stay. "I’ll be back, Lily," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
As he turned to leave, he glanced back one last time, the door clicking shut behind him. Unseen, a lingering shadow moved in the corner of the room, near the cradle, watching silently over the sleeping child.
Under the moonlight, outside a bustling brothel nestled in the heart of Balmount, the scene is lively. The brothel, like many in a fantasy world, is an extravagant establishment with its facade painted in vibrant hues of crimson and gold, drawing attention with glowing lanterns. Beastkin women, their tails swishing, entertain patrons with flirtatious gestures, mingling with human women who offer coy smiles to the passersby. The laughter and chatter of men fill the air, creating a lively yet sultry atmosphere as patrons, both beastkin and human alike, walk in and out of the building, seeking pleasure and entertainment.
Angelo stands nearby, watching the crowd ebb and flow. He observes the men who come and go, their boisterous laughs ringing out as they indulge in drink and pleasure. A few women catch his eye, particularly a feline beastkin with golden fur and sleek movements, twirling gracefully as she entertains a group of rowdy adventurers. He sighs, glancing up at the moon and mutters aloud, "Where the hell are you, kid?"
As if on cue, a light tap on his shoulder startles him. Angelo spins around to see Raphael standing silently behind him, the boy's expression unreadable beneath the blindfold covering his eyes. “Hey kid, don’t do that,” Angelo says, catching his breath.
Raphael simply responds with a soft, “Uhmm, okay.”
Scratching the back of his head, Angelo continues, "So why were you late?"
Raphael shrugs, replying, "I had some business to attend to."
Angelo looks at Raphael’s blindfolded face, a bit skeptical. “Is that so?” he mutters, then shakes his head. "Alright, you ready?" he asks, and Raphael nods in response.
“Come on, let’s move,” Angelo says, slipping into a nearby alleyway. Raphael follows without a word.
They continue walking in silence until they reach a local inn. The establishment, typical for the region, is a large, sturdy building with worn wooden beams and a cozy, warm glow spilling from its windows. The sound of merry adventurers laughing and clinking their mugs together fills the air. Inside, adventurers from all walks of life drink and dine, sharing stories of their exploits. The inn itself is dimly lit, with lanterns casting flickering shadows across the stone walls. A large hearth burns brightly at one end of the room, and the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread fills the air.
Behind the counter stands Charlie, a burly man with graying hair and deep-set brown eyes. His rugged face shows the signs of a man in his forties who has seen more than his fair share of bar fights and rowdy patrons. He wears a simple tunic with a leather apron tied around his waist, wiping down a mug with a gruff expression.
As Angelo and Raphael approach the bar, Angelo greets him, “Hey, Charlie. You’re looking good.”
Charlie barely glances up, his expression annoyed. “What do you want, Angelo?” he says with an irritated tone.
Angelo raises his hands in mock defense, “Come on, don’t be like that, champ! We’re best buds, aren’t we? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t check up on you every now and then?”
Charlie scoffs, continuing to wipe down the bar. “The only checking up you’ll get is on yourself if you don’t get the hell out of my inn.”
Angelo winces, feigning hurt. “Okay, okay, calm down. I just came to pick up something for Carlo and Yami. They’ve been busy, y’know?”
Charlie’s gaze sharpens as he studies Angelo for a moment before his eyes drift to Raphael. “Who’s the blind kid?” he asks.
Angelo grins, placing a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “He’s a newcomer,” he says with a chuckle.
With a sigh, Charlie reaches beneath the counter, retrieving a key and handing it to Angelo. “Here, take it. And tell those bastards, when you see them, that they owe me rent. I’m not running a charity here.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell ‘em,” Angelo says as he grabs the key and makes his way upstairs with Raphael following closely behind.
As they ascend the creaky wooden stairs, Raphael finally speaks, “How do you know where Carlo and Yami lived?”
Angelo flashes a grin, “I was the one who picked the place out for them. Gave them a sweet deal.”
Raphael doesn’t reply, simply following Angelo to a door at the end of the hallway. Angelo unlocks it and opens the door, revealing a messy, cluttered room. The floorboards creak under their feet as they step inside.
Raphael surveys the disarray, his blindfolded face expressionless. “They weren’t exactly tidy people,” he notes.
Angelo sighs heavily. “Yeah, well, let’s just find what we came for and get out of here,” he says. “You check under the wardrobe, I’ll go through the drawers.”
They spend the next twenty minutes searching every corner of the room. As they continue, Angelo breaks the silence. “So, Raphael, how’s the girl?”
Raphael pauses for a moment before answering, “She’s doing better.”
Angelo, continuing his search, says, “You know, Raphael, I know it’s none of my business, but I think you need to stop taking care of that baby… I don’t know why you’re doing it, but it wasn’t your fault her father died.”
Raphael remains silent for a moment, then replies, “I’m not blaming myself for his death.”
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Angelo, growing frustrated, stands up and walks over to Raphael, grabbing him by the collar. “Listen, kid. You’re barking up the wrong tree. The boss isn’t the same as before. He’d kill that girl if he felt like it. So, now that I’ve told you this, would you still take care of her?”
Without hesitation, Raphael responds, “Yes, I would.”
Angelo, scowling, shoves Raphael back, muttering, “It doesn’t concern me, but you’re a cold-hearted killer. What are you gonna do if your identity is exposed?”
“I’ll kill anyone who tries to harm Lily,” Raphael says flatly.
Angelo scoffs, “Even the boss?”
Raphael doesn’t reply, but his silence speaks volumes.
Just as Angelo is about to continue, he kicks a floorboard in frustration, revealing a hidden compartment. “Shit,” he curses, wincing in pain. Raphael quickly crouches down and retrieves a wooden box from the compartment.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoes down the hall. Raphael's expression sharpens as he whispers urgently, “Quick, hide.”
He passes the box to Angelo, both of them preparing for what’s to come
Under the glow of the moonlight, Mael and Takashi entered the bustling inn. As they crossed the threshold, eyes turned toward them—the tavern maids, adventurers, and common patrons alike, casting curious glances their way. Both boys wore simple holy tunics adorned with leather brigandines, plain iron armor, and modest cloaks, all emblazoned with the crest of their order: The Scales of Lumina. By their sides hung swords, symbols of their unwavering dedication to justice.
Mael walked with a bold stride, his face set in a frown, while Takashi trailed behind, nervously avoiding the gazes of the crowd. He leaned in to whisper, “Mael, maybe we should come back tomorrow. Everyone’s staring.”
Without breaking stride, Mael whispered back, “We don’t have a choice, Takashi. We’re here to gather information about the two people who have died.”
Takashi glanced around, still anxious. “But can’t we come back later? There are eyes everywhere.”
“Just suck it up and follow my lead,” Mael grumbled.
The two approached the counter where Charlie, the grizzled forty-year-old innkeeper, stood ignoring them, his attention fixed on wiping down a glass. Mael stepped up and addressed him, “Hey, old man, do you know where—” He paused, whispering back to Takashi, “What were their names again?”
Takashi whispered back, “Yami and Carlo.”
Mael turned back to Charlie, raising his voice. “Where can we find Yami and Carlo’s room?”
Charlie finally looked up from his task, his stern gaze sweeping over the two boys. Before Mael could continue, an adventurer approached the counter, cutting in front of them. The man wore a rugged leather jerkin over a thick wool shirt, his unkempt brown hair matched his sharp hazel eyes. He gave a casual nod to Charlie. “Got a problem here, Charlie?”
Mael’s temper flared as he glared at the adventurer, but before he could speak, Charlie intervened, his voice steady, “No, no problem here.” The adventurer gave the two boys a dismissive look before walking away, leaving Mael fuming.
Charlie turned his attention back to Mael and Takashi, his expression still stern. “Why are you looking for Yami and Carlo?”
Mael opened his mouth to respond, “Me and my partner—”
Charlie cut him off sharply, “I wasn’t talking to you.” Mael, already at his limit, slammed his hand on the counter, causing heads to turn throughout the tavern. The adventurers around them began to rise from their seats, ready for trouble.
Charlie raised his voice before things escalated. “No need for a fight, gentlemen. Sit down.”
The crowd settled, but Charlie kept his eyes locked on Mael, his tone warning. “If you know what’s good for you, take your tantrum outside, not in my inn.”
Ignoring Mael, he turned to Takashi. “And you—why are you looking for Yami and Carlo?”
Takashi, nervous but sincere, answered, “We’ve been assigned to investigate their room.”
Charlie narrowed his eyes, gauging their intent, then sighed. “Upstairs, you’ll find a room with the door open.”
Mael stormed off without a word, while Takashi bowed in thanks before following. As they climbed the creaky stairs, Mael muttered, “Can you believe that old geezer?”
Takashi, always the peacemaker, replied, “At least he gave us what we needed.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Mael grumbled, though clearly still irritated.
They reached the open door, stepping inside to find the room in disarray. Papers were scattered, furniture overturned—it was clear someone had been there before them. “Oh no,” Mael muttered. “Someone’s already been here.”
Takashi looked around nervously. “What do we do now?”
Mael knelt by an open compartment, inspecting it carefully. “Whoever did this already got what they were after,” he said, deep in thought. “We’re too late.”
As he spoke, Takashi’s voice trembled, “I don’t think so, Mael…”
Before Mael could react, a shadow dropped from the ceiling. Raphael landed in front of him, delivering a swift kick to his chest that sent Mael flying back into Takashi, crashing them both into the hallway wall.
Mael groaned in pain as Angelo emerged from under the bed, brushing dust off his clothes. “I can’t believe Yami and Carlo were involved with Paladin Knights,” he muttered, holding the wooden box.
Raphael, speaking hurriedly as he ran toward the door, called out, “We don’t have time to talk—let’s go.”
Angelo nodded, quickly following. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Mael struggled to his feet, growling at Takashi, “You could’ve told me someone was up there!”
Takashi, still shaken, replied meekly, “I-I wanted to say something…”
“Ugh, come on! Let’s catch those guys!” Mael shouted, already running after Raphael and Angelo.
Takashi hesitated, his nerves fraying. “Do we have to?” he muttered, reluctantly following Mael down the stairs.
Raphael, moving swiftly, ran down the creaky wooden stairs, jumping over people and ignoring their startled reactions. Angelo followed hurriedly, shouting over his shoulder at Charlie, “You could have helped us out, you know, Charlie!” Charlie barely spared a glance as Raphael and Angelo exited the inn, his gaze shifting to what they were running from. Moments later, Mael leaped down the stairs, landing with a loud thud as his boots hit the floor, while Takashi followed, his movement silent. Charlie muttered to himself, “I guess I need to ban Angelo from here,” smirking as Mael and Takashi darted outside after them.
Not far from the inn, Raphael was sprinting ahead, with Angelo trying to keep up. Angelo, panting as he ran, called out, “You know, kid, you’ve got some good speed!” Raphael glanced behind at Angelo, noticing Mael and Takashi quickly closing in. He grimaced and spoke without slowing, “We won’t be fast enough on the ground.”
“What do you mean?” Angelo asked, still running beside him.
Raphael slowed just enough to let Angelo pass before swiftly grabbing him with one hand. In a quick, seamless movement, Raphael leaped from one wall to another, scaling the buildings with agility. Angelo yelped in surprise, “Hey, kid! You could’ve given me a heads-up first!”
Mael, watching from below, scowled and shouted at Takashi, “Why don’t you move faster?!”
Takashi, clearly uneasy, replied, “I’m following your lead!”
“You’re the faster one! Get them before I kick your butt!” Mael barked, frustration clear in his voice.
Takashi frowned sadly but obeyed, speeding up. He leaped gracefully from wall to wall, quickly reaching the roof where Raphael and Angelo had passed. Mael, still running on the ground, was weaving through the crowd with increasing urgency. He jumped past couples enjoying their evening and a pair of beastkin—a fox-eared woman with bright auburn fur, wearing a tattered cloak, and a wolf-eared man with silver-gray fur clad in basic leather armor. The two looked curiously as Mael sped by, clearly baffled by the rush.
As he pushed forward, Mael’s thoughts burned with determination. “That must be the Sightless Shadow. He got the best of me once, but I won’t let him escape again.”
Meanwhile, As Raphael bounded across the rooftops, Angelo's feet barely touched the ground before he was sent tumbling forward, forced to find his own footing. Racing alongside Raphael, their rooftopper's marathon showed no signs of slowing.
“Hey, kid, we won’t be able to lose them at this rate. We need to split up!”
Raphael shook his head. “No need for that.”
Angelo raised a brow. “What do you mean? These guys are paladin knights, and they’re highly skilled. If we’re caught, we don’t know what’ll happen.”
Raphael replied calmly, “I understand that. But today isn’t the day I’ll let myself be caught. And even if we split, there’s no guarantee you won’t be the one captured. Besides, the one tailing us is strong, not just some common thug.”
Angelo shot him an annoyed glance. “So what’s your plan, then?”
Raphael smirked. “I’ll distract them. When I do, you need to leave me behind. I can escape on my own.”
Angelo glared. “Did you just imply I’m slowing you down?”
“Yes, you are,” Raphael said bluntly. He then stopped suddenly, letting Angelo run a few steps ahead.
Raphael exhaled slowly, drawing out his twin daggers from behind his back. His breath steadied as he saw Takashi nearing, and in a swift motion, he leaped into the air. Takashi, noticing Raphael's sudden stop, braced himself. The impact came hard and fast as Raphael kicked him from the roof, sending Takashi crashing to the ground in a quiet street below.
Two people nearby were startled by the commotion. One was a tall, middle-aged man with shaggy brown hair and sharp green eyes, dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, while the other was a shorter beastkin woman with feline features, her long black tail swishing nervously. They watched as Takashi groaned, pulling himself up from the ground, muttering, “That really hurt…”
The man asked, “Hey, kid, are you alright?”
Takashi nodded weakly, “Yes, thank you for your concern.” With that, he drew his sword, slashing upward at Raphael, who landed gracefully in front of him, daggers raised to block the blow. The clang of metal rang out as Raphael’s daggers collided with Takashi’s blade. Raphael’s eyes widened behind his blindfold. “He’s fast,” he thought to himself, jumping back to reassess the situation.
The two onlookers gasped, recognizing Raphael. “No… It’s the Sightless Shadow!” They quickly fled, one of them shouting, “We didn’t see anything!”
Just as Raphael landed with a soft thud, his gaze locking onto Takashi's resolute figure. The wall loomed behind him, a cold, unforgiving backdrop for the impending confrontation, Mael appeared on the scene, glaring at Raphael. Drawing his own sword, he glanced briefly at Takashi and asked, “You hurt?”
Takashi groaned, “Yeah… a lot.” He whimpered slightly, rubbing his sore limbs.
Mael turned back to Raphael, speaking coldly, “I know this might sound rude, but I’ll say it anyway: Sightless Shadow, surrender now, or face both of us.” His tone was firm as he referred to himself and Takashi, who was still wincing from the earlier blow.
Mael’s gaze sharpened. “There’s no way he can win. Not against both of us.”
Takashi, seeing how tightly Raphael was gripping his blades, stepped forward cautiously. His voice was steady but soft as he tried to de-escalate the situation. "Hey, why don't we just talk instead of fighting?" he said, moving closer to Raphael. Mael's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Hey, Takashi, what are you doing?" he called out, a mix of irritation and amazement in his tone.
Takashi turned slightly, giving Mael a calm glance before saying, “We don’t need to fight. Let’s just talk things out and figure out what led to Carlo and Yami’s deaths.”
Mael, unsure if this approach would work, thought to himself, This might actually be a good idea… but can we trust the Sightless Shadow? He helped his partner escape once. No way he’ll just surrender. Mael tightened his grip on his sword, anticipating the inevitable, while Takashi remained focused on Raphael, trying to reason with him.
“Do you know anything about Carlo and Yami?” Takashi asked, his voice sincere.
Raphael stood still for a moment, calculating. Stuck with me, they’ve given Angelo plenty of time to get away, he thought. Without a word, Raphael suddenly lunged at Takashi.
Mael, having anticipated this, intercepted Raphael’s attack with his sword. The loud clash of steel echoed through the alley. “Now’s not the time to make peace!” Mael shouted as Raphael’s boot found his stomach, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. Mael winced, spitting out saliva as he struggled to regain his breath.
Takashi, shaken by the sudden violence, instinctively jumped back. “Please! I don’t want to fight!” he pleaded. Raphael’s sharp eyes locked onto him. With a sudden burst of speed, Raphael appeared right in front of Takashi, his face mere inches away.
“But I do,” Raphael whispered coldly.
Takashi's reflexes kicked in just in time as he dodged a lethal strike aimed at his throat. He stumbled backward, gasping, while Mael’s voice rang out, “Dodge!” With perfect timing, Takashi leaped to the side as Mael charged Raphael with a fierce kick. Raphael grabbed Mael’s leg mid-air and flung him away, but Mael skillfully backflipped, landing gracefully on his feet.
“Ugh, this is getting annoying!” Mael growled, frustration evident in his voice.
Realizing that Raphael wasn’t going to relent, Takashi finally readied himself for battle. Both he and Mael coordinated their attacks, striking Raphael from opposite sides. Raphael, moving with fluid precision, parried each attack, using one dagger to block Mael’s blows while deflecting Takashi’s swift slashes with the other.
Raphael gritted his teeth. These two are pushing me... if this keeps up, I won’t be able to escape, he thought, narrowly dodging another swipe from Mael’s blade. The fight grew more intense as the sounds of steel clashing echoed through the narrow street. Blood dripped from Raphael's arm where Mael’s sword had grazed him earlier, but he refused to let it slow him down.
Takashi, with his superior speed, was relentless, his sword whistling through the air as he aimed for Raphael’s blind spots. Raphael found himself struggling to maintain control, his movements becoming increasingly desperate as he tried to avoid their combined attacks.
I have to find a way out of this, Raphael thought as Mael lunged at him from below while Takashi closed in from above. In a split-second decision, Raphael vanished using his Silent Movement ability, reappearing behind Mael.
“When did he—” Mael’s thoughts were cut short as Raphael kicked him toward Takashi. Takashi, with his sharp reflexes, managed to dodge Mael but failed to catch Raphael, who had already used his Silent Movement again, disappearing completely from sight.
Takashi sighed heavily, knowing Raphael had escaped. “He’s gone…” he muttered, still catching his breath.
Mael, pushing himself up from the ground, shouted angrily, “Arrg, I can’t believe I let that thug get away!”
Takashi, brushing off the dust, replied with a grin, “Technically, he’s more of an assassin.”
“Yeah? So what!” Mael snapped, his frustration bubbling over. Takashi winced at Mael’s outburst but smiled sheepishly.
Sighing, Mael turned to Takashi, “So, what do you think about the Sightless Shadow?”
Takashi scratched his head, a bit uncertain. “I don’t really know… He’s definitely a good fighter, but it didn’t seem like he had any useful information about Carlo or Yami.” His voice wavered slightly, the tension still present.
“Next time, take things more seriously,” Mael grumbled, sheathing his sword.
Takashi nodded, “Okay, okay.”
“Let’s head back,” Mael said, starting to walk away.
“Are we going to report to the commander?” Takashi asked, trailing after him.
“Of course! We’re going to tell her everything that happened,” Mael responded matter-of-factly.
Takashi’s stomach grumbled loudly, and he mumbled, “But… can we stop somewhere first? I’m starving.”
Mael’s own stomach growled in response, and he sighed, “Fine, but you’re paying.”
Takashi whined, “But I paid last time!”
“That’s what you get for not being serious,” Mael teased as they exited the alley, their banter fading into the night.