A man with a thick beard walked past them.

At the very moment they crossed paths, an image suddenly appeared in Charlotte's mind: people dressed in black cloaks forming a circle around someone kneeling on the ground. Bloodstained white bones emerged from the person's back, curving into an arc that nearly enveloped them completely.

Charlotte stood frozen, staring at the man as he walked away until he disappeared into an alley.

"Miss?" Caroline's voice brought Charlotte back to reality.

"Ah, it's nothing... I just found it strange." The vision she had when the man passed by reminded Charlotte of a baby's cry.

Could that man… She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the strange thoughts.

What nonsense—like a man could be pregnant.

Caroline pointed to a nearby sign that read "Dewey Transportation Company" and said, "I think we can rent a carriage there."

"Mm." Charlotte kept her head down, avoiding looking at the words on the sign. She had spent three years searching for clues about her parents and had finally found something.

Now that she was in Solvellon, her instincts told her the letter's contents were true. But leaving so soon? She couldn't accept it.

Charlotte walked slowly, silently praying for a change in the situation.

She knew Caroline's logic was sound and acknowledged her prudence, yet she clung to a sliver of hope.

She imagined someone suddenly appearing, tapping her on the shoulder, and saying, "Hey, you're Charlotte, right? I'm the one who sent you the letter. Come with me." Then, together, they would embark on an incredible adventure, uncover a lost treasure, thwart some villain, and, at the end, bring her parents back home.

But if Caroline rented the carriage, all of that would become impossible.

As Charlotte dragged her feet, she failed to notice Caroline stopping behind her. Caroline grabbed her shoulder and said, "Miss, something's wrong."

Charlotte snapped to attention. "What is it?"

She looked up and saw three heavy motorcycles blocking the street behind them. Painted on the vehicles were symbols of crossed swords and a golden ram.

Charlotte recognized the golden ram as the Viscount of Solvellon's coat of arms, while the crossed swords were the common symbol of the Empire's militia.

By imperial convention, these men were likely the viscount's private soldiers or part of the city guard.

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Had someone uncovered their identities? Was the Viscount of Solvellon acting so quickly to seek revenge? Even if their cover had been blown, his response seemed unusually fast.

And why block the retreat? Could there be an even greater danger ahead? Regardless, both she and Caroline could simply climb the rooftops to escape.

The thought of staying in Solvellon had vanished from Charlotte's mind by now.

Several guards dismounted their motorcycles, each wearing compressed steam packs on their backs. Their steam armor only covered their torsos, and the firearms in their hands were connected to the packs by pipes. Although slightly different from what Charlotte knew, these were clearly standard city guard equipment.

"Prepare!" a man with a feathered hat ordered loudly, clearly the leader.

The guards had already loaded their guns but weren't aiming at Charlotte or Caroline. Instead, their target was the crowd behind them, blocked by the motorcycles.

The crowd began screaming and scattering, frantically searching for cover. Charlotte guessed the street further back was likely blocked as well.

"What are they doing?" A sense of foreboding crept over Charlotte.

"The city guard is pursuing a cultist. All citizens are ordered to crouch on the ground and avoid causing a disturbance. Anyone who disobeys will be considered an accomplice and executed on the spot."

The leader’s words made it clear: running would brand someone a cultist, but crouching would likely make them "cooperative cultists."

"Fire!" As Charlotte feared, the guards began shooting indiscriminately into the crowd.

Steam-driven bullets burst forth, with the recoil absorbed by their steam armor. The unrifled bullets lacked precision, but the crowd's density and proximity compensated for this. The projectiles easily struck people, shredding flesh and bone.

Screams and wails reached their peak. Charlotte gripped her sword's hilt, but Caroline grabbed her hand firmly.

"They're killing people!" Charlotte struggled to break free, attempting to draw her massive sword.

"Miss, we can't act rashly. We don't understand the situation. Acting now could put you in danger."

"What's there to understand? This is a massacre! A knight must protect the innocent!" Charlotte finally wrenched herself free.

Her sword gleamed coldly, mirroring her fury.

The guards noticed her as she charged forward with her weapon raised.

With a single swing, Charlotte sliced through the steam pipes of their weapons. The guards, unprepared for an attack from behind, had no time to reload.

"You can't kill!" Caroline shouted.

Just as Charlotte was about to cleave the guards, she heeded Caroline’s voice. She flipped her blade and struck with its flat side instead.

Charlotte's knightly strength was extraordinary. One guard was sent flying into another, and both fell unconscious.

"Who are you?" The guard captain drew a pistol adorned with a golden horse motif. Lacking steam pipes, it was clearly a fuel-powered firearm, indicating some noble lineage.

Charlotte sensed the fuel's energy in the weapon and sneered. She redirected its power into the ground beneath the captain, causing it to explode.

Blood and rubble flew as the captain clutched his mangled leg, writhing on the ground in agony.

Charlotte gazed at him with disdain. To her, a noble who fired on unarmed civilians was a disgrace to the aristocracy.

While Charlotte fought, Caroline subdued several guards. She slipped her hands beneath a heavy motorcycle, her joints glowing with white runes, and flipped the vehicle, creating an escape route.

Driven by survival instincts, the civilians rushed through the passage. Charlotte climbed atop a vehicle, watching the sea of heads below.

Gunfire erupted at the far end of the street, and more civilians fell.

"Move aside!" Charlotte shouted. She pushed through the crowd, heading against the flow toward the gunfire. Soon, she disappeared into the mass of people.

"Miss? Charlotte?" Caroline called her name loudly, but receiving no response, she turned and headed toward the source of the gunfire.