Joshua could feel his knees buckling, each step forward demanded enormous effort from him as if his shoes were filled with stones.

Seeing Altan and Sarai shooting past him, he extended his hand forward, trying to warn them "Wait, don't go!" concerned about a possible trap.

However, his voice faltered and his words remained lodged in his throat as they disappeared into the darkness.

He brought his hand back, using it to lean on the wall trying to regain his balance, but it slipped because of the moisture and he got planted face-first into the freezing dirt. He could feel the reverberations in the ground as more footsteps hurried along. No doubt, they were also rushing to search for Jasmine, while he lay there, motionless.

The tightness in his chest grew more and more unbearable as his mind went through grief and doubt. What makes him qualified to lead them? All he accomplished this far was to make things worse.

He had lost Arlen back in the orphanage, caused Reynard to become a cripple, and now allowed Jasmine to be kidnapped.

Despite how exceptional he was, having to take care of all his siblings was an enormous task, and the stress was still too much for a kid his age to bear.

Joshua desperately tried to stay conscious, but the pain and guilt consumed him, and before he knew it, he passed out.

[Despite its shabbiness and humility, the orphanage did have a few redeeming qualities; one of them was the library, which was filled with dozens of books from every corner of the world.

He recalled spending an entire week holed up inside, during which he read every book in there.

When he came out, he saw the director resting underneath the willow tree in the courtyard, tending to the plants as the yellow leaves whirled around.

The director asserted, "Plants are honest, you feed them water and sunlight"

"Last time it was: Farming is a fair trade, and the one before was: plants are the embodiment of a sincere merchant"

"You plant the seeds, care for them, and they grow into a plant—a straightforward plan with no surprises or deviations."

He pointed to a wooden sword lying nearby saying, "What do you think of that?"

Joshua walked over to grab the sword while thinking about the question. Farming, huh? To him that sounded safe, cozy, and

"Boring" Joshua muttered.

"You may be right," He said as he stood up "But when fall comes and harvest is due, being bored is better than starving"

Joshua knew what he had to do, if he didn't get three strikes in he would have to clean all the floorboards tonight. The most he ever managed to get was two, but he understood that luck wouldn't always be on his side.

The director began with the rigid yet simple still waves swordsmanship, which consisted of nothing but basic slashes and thrusts. However, his mastery of the blade ensured that each stroke was executed to perfection.

What Joshua lacked in strength he made up for in technique, being able to skillfully deflect every single attack, "Such plans are easily seen through. What good is growing crops for others to steal."

" You may believe that predictability is the ruination of plans" The director replied, then he swiftly raised his blade, switching to a hawk stance.

"However! There are things that cannot be stopped, even if you knew they were coming."

All his instincts screamed at him to dodge, and until now, he had always tried to evade that attack whenever he faced it.

But not today! He lunged forward, lowering his body. He wanted to use swift and agile movements to get behind the director and land a strike or two.

All he worried about was not pushing his luck, avoiding greed, and getting some space after the second strike.

"ABDOMEN!"

The deafening shout caused Joshua to jolt, his mind went blank as his hand unconsciously protected his abdomen. He was lucky, had the director's kick connected directly with his stomach it would have split him in half.

Grappling on the tree branch, Joshua felt his wrist throbbing with pain. Thankfully the sword absorbed much of the impact.

"Don't mistake audacity for unpredictability." He continued as he watched him climb down the willow tree.

"Seeking excitement, bored people grow reckless. They long for something to defy their expectations, which makes them complacent, thinking they can deal with everything that may happen."

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Son, you are a leader. A leader makes plans, leaving nothing to chance and no room for uncertainty. He is responsible for his men's lives. There's no room for excitement in that."

Joshua finally made his way down, groaning in pain as he curled up on his stomach. The director rushed over, concerned he might have used too much force. But he got tricked, and with a faint grin, Joshua lightly tapped him three times with his sword. 'Three strikes, I won,' he muttered before the weapon slumped from his hands, his strength waning. ]

He tried to open his eyes, but his entire face was covered with mud.

Not being able to see anything, he traced his fingers across the air trying to find the wall.

After flaying around for a few seconds, he was finally able to feel his hand touching a solid surface. He leaned on the wall resting his back against it, while reminiscing about the days in the orphanage, full of grief.

[He called me son at the end of each lecture, maybe I should have been more Mischievous.]

He let out a sigh saying, "Sigh, Why did you pick someone like me as leader..."

"He did it because he trusted you" Sylvia answered as she helped him wipe his face clean with a piece of cloth, " Don't be too hard on yourself"

"I shouldn’t have let those people in" He muttered while shaking off the dirt from his long dark hair.

"What you did was kind. You shouldn't condemn the world because of a few bad apples" Sylvia said with conviction.

He knew what he did wasn't out of kindness but boredom and intrigue, but what was important right now was finding Jasmine.

"Stay in the wagon with Reynard and your sister, don't let anyone else inside."

—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—.—

The guard's corpse was carefully carried outside by the physician, taking care to establish a perimeter and wear a mask and gloves to help avoid contamination.

He inspected his bloodshot eyes, his swollen tongue, and the extent of the bluish discoloration spreading across his skin. All the while, everyone awaited his diagnosis.

Ever since the two groups met up Jasmine was always by his side helping in caring for patients. The physician had gotten so used to his little assistant that he was visibly shaken by her disappearance, he kept forgetfully calling her name asking for tools, and explaining everything he did in detail became a habit.

Every time he heard her name, Joshua felt as if a hot stake was being twisted in his heart, eventually, he could wait no longer for the result of the diagnosis and headed to inspect the traces of the kidnappers.

He borrowed a mask and some gloves and entered the wagon where the perpetrators were kept detained.

There were three things he needed to figure out: how they escaped, where they went, and why they kidnapped Jasmine.

He started looking around trying to find any clue that would help him in his search, but there was little to go on. After all, in a small, cramped space like this, there was little room for a broader perspective.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was overlooking something.

While deep in thought, he had a habit of dissociating from his own body, often finding himself having drawn some patterns on the ground or having tied a few branches together.

In his head, he went over the earlier encounter where they first came into contact, trying to see if he missed anything.

The bulky man seemed hot-blooded and burly. Had he been the one behind this, he would have smashed one of the wagon doors to pieces. Men like him often look down on poisoning, considering it a coward's weapon. They enjoy pitting their strength head-on against others, attempting to prove their valor.

He thought the woman had the air of nobility, even before she was referred to as "My lady". But it was strange.

If that were true, why had she readily agreed to be tied down by a group of children? Had she thrown a tantrum and attempted to boss them around like lesser beings, he wouldn't have given her a second thought.

Apart from the fact that she was traveling on foot in the middle of nowhere with only two attendants, there would have been nothing suspicious about her. Ordinarily, he could have chalked it up to a succession struggle or a possible scandal—both things he would have deemed normal.

But because she was silent, docile, and sensible, he considered her intriguing. Such traits might be praised as virtuous, but in the wild, you don’t trust a predator just because it wags its tail.

Such a person, he figured, wouldn't be impartial to using poison to further their plans, whatever they may be.

Finally, there was the chatty, slender one with the silver tongue. His initial judgment of him was that of a sheltered scholar, the type who would spend most of his days combing through ancient volumes. The various scrolls and artifacts he had at his disposal also suggested strong connections in both academic and artisan circles. Such a figure would no doubt know a thing or two about poison.

At this moment, Joshua felt a tingling sensation in his hand, which broke his chain of thought. He quickly examined his arm to ensure it wasn't a rash spreading from the poison. But what he found was his hands all tangled up in the rope that was previously used to tie up the kidnappers.

Inspecting the end of the rope, Joshua noticed something alarming—the cut was too clean. He was certain Altan had thoroughly checked them before allowing them onto the wagon, and even their ropes had been re-tightened when they reached the cave.

So if they had anything that could be used to cut through it must have been something small, that would have taken them a few minutes of repeated back-and-forth motions to cut through the rope gradually.

Such an object would have produced a rough and uneven cut, with frayed fiber and stretched strings, not such a clean and precise cut.

This could only mean one thing, they were set free by a third party and more importantly, this third party caused Jasmine to be kidnapped.