In the embrace of slumber, he descended into the depths of sleep, his consciousness drifting away from the waking world. Like a feather carried by a gentle breeze, he surrendered himself to the currents of his dreams.

In this ethereal realm, detached from the constraints of reality, he found respite from the demands of the waking. Time lost its grip as he ventured through the empty landscapes woven by his subconscious.

Within the realm of sleep, his mind roamed freely, unfettered by the boundaries of logic and reason. It was a sanctuary, a tranquil refuge where there was no worldly concern, no guilt and no shame, there was just him and emptiness and as lonely as it was, he found solace in that.

Allowing himself to be embraced in a deep time-unbound slumber, he rested the best he could until came to him, what he was expecting to hear: the call. A call for him to the waking world.

Allowing himself to be immersed in a timeless slumber, he rested the best he could, until he heard the familiar call. It came to him, piercing through the silence of his dreams, beckoning him back to the waking world. Reluctantly, yet almost instinctively, he stirred, feeling the pull of consciousness tugging at him.

In the dimly lit sewers, a hushed silence filled the air, broken only by the distant dripping of water echoing through the tunnels. Nestled in the heart of this underground maze, a small spherical cradle shimmered with a golden hue. It glowed softly, casting a warm light that danced along the damp walls.

As the world above continued its oblivious slumber, a young boy lay nestled within the golden cradle, his form cocooned in a radiant embrace. Softly, the cradle began to unfold, and as it did, a gentle sound filled the air, like the rustling of leaves in a serene forest.

The sound grew louder, harmonizing with the boy's stirring movements. Golden fragments of the cradle floated in the air, mimicking the delicate fall of autumn leaves. Slowly, the golden cocoon unraveled, revealing the young boy beneath, his blue eyes.

With a gentle yawn, the young boy sat up in his golden cradle, feeling a tinge of sleepiness in his bones. Slowly, he stretched his limbs and stood upright, his eyes adjusting to the sights and sounds of the world around him. As he did, something remarkable occurred—the remnants of the golden cradle, as if imbued with a life force of their own melted into a liquid that began to crawl and slither, eagerly seeking to be reabsorbed by the boy.

In a mesmerizing display, the golden fragments merged and flowed, seamlessly integrating back into the boy's being. As they did, the enchanting rustling sound of leaves faded away, replaced by the soft padding of his bare feet on the cold stone floor of the sewer. His gaze swept the surroundings, a mixture of grogginess and confusion evident in his eyes.

Just as his confusion began to settle in, a voice, gentle, warm, and familiar, broke the silence like a gentle breeze through the trees.

"Good morning."

“Good morning,” he replied, his voice devoid of his previous confusion.

Standing between him and the dim light at the end of the sewers was a young girl. Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, contrasting beautifully against her warm dusk-colored skin. Intriguingly, a pair of delicate golden protrusions adorned her head, reminiscent of elegant horns.

“Slept well?”

“Well enough,” he replied, walking up to her.

"I see. So, what do you feel like doing now?"

"Another name will leave the list."

***

Inside the towering castle, amidst dimly lit corridors and guarded passages, a bolt of lightning erupted from the Rustler’s outstretched finger. With deadly precision, it struck the unsuspecting guard, leaving a large that allowed one to see through. Paying no heed to the chaos left in his wake, the Rustler, accompanied by his steadfast ally, nonchalantly proceeded further into the depths of the castle-like estate, their presence preceding a large commotion of both scream and shout echoing across the structure towering walls.

Just as the Rustler marveled at the absurd grandeur of the mansion, a distant clamor of footsteps descending the stairs caught their attention.

"Watch out. Mages down the stairs.”

Understood.

Fairly enough just as she’d warned,

“Careful the stairs!”

Got it.

As the Rustler faced the large stairways, his gaze locked onto the multitude of figures lining the steps. Dozens of individuals stood before him, their allegiance clear to discern. The mages, identifiable by their lack of bows and an air of imminent elemental onslaught, poised themselves to unleash their elementalis upon him. On the other hand, the guards, bow in hand, assumed an arrow-drawn stance, their voices resounding with authority as they shouted in unison, "Surrender, Ethereal Breeze! You are trapped and outnumbered!"

Undeterred by the daunting odds, the Rustler stood tall in spite of his very petite figure, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes scanning the faces before him.

With a steady voice that carried across the grand hall, the Rustler responded, "Cornered, you say? I fail to see how.”

These words, though spoken with the mellowy voice of a child, were enough to send a wave of doubt across all them. They looked at each other to seek their next course of action.

It would take several heavy seconds for one of them to take the lead of replying back, “yes, you are, Ethereal Breeze. You are cornered. We do not want to hurt you. Go back from where you came from.”

A playful chuckle escaped the Rustler's lips, laced with a hint of derision. "Go back from where I came from, after the trouble I have gone through to get here," he retorted, his tone dripping with defiance. His gaze swept across the assembled guards and mages, his eyes glinting with unwavering determination. "I am here, and I will not leave until I get to your Master."

These words struck a chord within the guards and mages, causing doubt to creep into their minds. The man who had taken the lead in their confrontation was keenly aware of their wavering resolve. He immediately attempted to defuse the tension, offering a proposition, "Ethereal Breeze, leave now, and our Master will forget what transpired today. We can all return to our respective lives in peace."

He’s really starting to get on my nerves with that “Ethereal Breeze this, and Ethereal Breeze that.”

Stepping forward, a defiant expression on his face, the Rustler declared loudly and boldly, "You speak of proceeding peacefully with your lives? Then lower your arrows, sheathe your elementalis. Release either upon me. None of you shall resume your respective lives. It will end here."

His words hung in the air, creating an atmosphere charged with heightened tension and uncertainty. The guards and mages exchanged wary glances, their decision weighing heavily upon them. The balance between life and death teetered on a precipice, ready to tip in either direction.

And then, in the midst of that pivotal moment, where the fate of all hung in the balance, a single voice shattered the silence. "Loose your arrows! Unleash your elementalis!"

As if unleashed hounds responding to their master's command, the guards and mages sprang into action, unleashing a relentless onslaught of arrows and elemental attacks upon the Rustler. The air crackled with power as the projectiles flew towards their target, while the elemental forces surged and crackled, seeking to engulf him.

They did.

With a salvo of electrifying, swirling gusts, freezing blasts, and earth-shattering tremors, the combined elemental attacks filled the air, creating a thick screen of smoke that swallowed the place where the Rustler had stood just moments before.

"Did we get him?" a voice anxiously asked, the uncertainty echoing through the hazy aftermath. None of his fellow mages and guards could provide an answer, their breaths held in anticipation. But then, a bolt of lightning streaked through the fog, mercilessly striking down four of the mages in its lethal path.

"He's alive!" the man who had led the negotiation earlier shouted, a mix of frustration and urgency in his voice. "Quick, re-" Before he could finish his sentence, a chilling scream pierced the air, emanating from his comrades stationed further down the stairs.

The Rustler was no longer concealed within the dissipating fog; he had begun his relentless ascent up the stairs, leaving a trail of chaos and destruction in his wake. With each step, he dispatched any obstacle standing in his path, his electro-elementalis and his aero-elementalis carving a path for him to move forward like an unstoppable force.

Amidst the cacophony of screams and desperate orders to halt his advance, the Rustler continued his relentless ascent up the stairs. With every step he took, the number of guards and mages dwindled, their attempts to stop him proving futile against him

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The once confident and organized forces now found themselves in disarray, their ranks thinning with each passing moment. Panic spread through their ranks, as they realized the futility of their efforts against this formidable adversary.

"Stop him!" one mage shouted, his voice laced with desperation. "Do something!" cried out another, the sense of urgency resonating in his words. But their pleas fell on deaf ears, as the Rustler pressed on, undeterred by their feeble attempts to halt his progress.

In no time, the grand stairway was drenched in a sea of crimson, the guards reduced to a mere handful. The remaining few, filled with desperation, retreated further up the stairs, their fear palpable in their eyes. Only one figure stood between the Rustler and his path forward, the very mage who had given the order to attack.

In a last-ditch effort, the mage raised his hand and unleashed a blade-like gust of wind towards the Rustler. But with a mere flicker of movement, a protective wall of aero-elementalis materialized, shielding the Rustler from harm. Undeterred, the mage reached for the blade hanging at his waist, preparing for a desperate charge. However, before he could make a move, the Rustler swiftly closed the distance, his hand deftly locking the blade in its sheath.

With the blade rendered useless, the mage resorted to a more primitive attack—an attempt to deliver a punch. But once again, the Rustler intercepted the blow effortlessly, his right hand possessing a hardness and texture akin to steel or, perhaps more accurately, gold. Applying pressure, the Rustler shattered the man's fist, forcing him to his knees, an anguished scream escaping his lips.

Looking down at the broken mage, the Rustler's gaze met his, the man pleading for mercy. "Please, spare me," he begged, his voice filled with desperation.

The Rustler's expression remained stoic as he replied, his voice laced with cold resolve, "You should have pleaded for mercy sooner."

A surge of electro-elementalis crackled in the air, casting an eerie glow for a brief moment. The next instant, the Rustler walked his way past the man’s lifeless body, now unrecognizable in its mangled state.

The castle's interior loomed even more expansive than its exterior suggested, its vastness stretching out in every direction. Despite encountering some mages who put up a resistance, their efforts proved futile against the Rustler's formidable skills. Swiftly dispatching them, he pressed on. Soon, he reached a towering door, aware that behind it awaited the one he sought. However, he also knew that that person was not alone.

Standing nonchalantly by the doorstep, the girl surveyed the situation before reporting to the Rustler, "Six mages, including the target, and another presence." Her expression held a mix of curiosity and unease as she continued, "But it's not a mage."

"I see, so she's here," the Rustler responded, his tone laced with intrigue. "That saves us the trouble of having to ask him then."

Approaching the doorstep, the Rustler raised his hand and unleashed a powerful gale that forcefully blew open the door before him.

As soon as he heard the command to "Kill him" from within, the Rustler anticipated the reaction and swiftly employed his odo-wielding ability. A brilliant golden wall materialized, completely concealing him from view and providing a shield against the mages' incoming assault.

"What the fu—"

Caught off guard by the sight of their attack landing on a massive mass of golden matter, the mages were still bewildered when the Rustler took immediate action. Summoning wind chakrams, he swiftly released each one, dispatching four of the five mages in the room.

In an instant, their lifeless bodies crumpled to the ground.

Withdrawing the Odo back within him, the Rustler casually strode up to the last remaining mage in the room, a Raj.

"You don’t know who I am,” the man, well past his prime, threatened, as the Rustler got closer and closer to him.

“Oh, and who are you?”

“I am the head of the Raj Kazanov family. I know a—" he started before interrupting himself at the sight of the Rustler conjuring lightning.

“I already knew that. That’s why I am here," the Rustler murmured before mercilessly unleashing his electro-elementalis upon the man. His body convulsed under the force of the attack, his eyes filled with fear and agony.

Within seconds, the life force drained from him, leaving behind a lifeless shell.

“That was it, I guess.”

Yes, that was it. Another name off the list. But perhaps I should’ve taken a little more time.

“It was just fine enough. It wasn’t like he could’ve had something interesting to tell us.”

Her words were correct; however, the man, who was at the roots of all the mess that ultimately culminated in the plot against them, was not directly involved in it. He was simply the individual who did not want the Rozanov family to acquire a Dae, as it would enable the Rozanovs to compete with them in the same market, that of the Gildedust distribution.

"Even if he had, wouldn't she be able to give us the same answer?" she added, pointing at the Odoe woman who was huddled in a corner of the room, weeping and clutching her knees in an attempt to remain unnoticed.

"Hey, you," the Rustler called out, his voice slicing through the air. The woman's back straightened at the command, and as she turned to face him, her features came into view. It was then that the Rustler's gaze fixated on something unmistakable—a crescent-shaped formation of golden scales adorning the outer corners of her eyes. His attention momentarily lost, he found himself staring at the girl standing beside him, realizing that he had encountered the second person of her kind.

"You," the Rustler uttered.

"Aye," the woman responded stiffly, her demeanor tense if not utterly panicking.

"You're the Dae Odoe I've heard is working for him, aren't you?" the Rustler questioned, his tone carrying a hint of accusation.

"I—" the woman began, but before she could utter anything further, the Rustler cut her off.

"Don't lie to me," he warned, his voice firm and unwavering.

The woman visibly shivered at his words, and with a series of vigorous but shaky nods, she confirmed, "I was... yes, I was."

"I see," the Rustler mumbled, his expression unreadable. The woman, perhaps assuming he had already made a judgment and decided her fate, immediately began to beg, her head bowed towards the ground.

"Please, don't kill me. I'll do anything. I worked for him because I wanted money, nothing else," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.

"Huh?" the Rustler responded, clearly taken aback by her plea.

"Please, I have a family across the continent. I have no one here. Please, don't kill me in this place. I don't want to die here," she implored, her voice trembling with fear and desperation.

"You don't want to die here..." the Rustler mumbled, a flicker of recognition crossing his face as he contemplated her words.

"Yes," the woman responded with newfound vigor, a glimmer of hope igniting in her eyes. With a sense of urgency, she crawled toward the Rustler's feet, her voice filled with desperation as she pleaded, "Yes, I don't want to die here. If you spare me, I promise to leave this continent, to return to my homeland where we will never cross paths again. I give you my word."

The Rustler regarded her for a moment, his thoughts weighing the options before him.

“So what will you do with her?”

I don’t know, you tell me. What would you want me to do?

“That I wouldn’t know how to answer. And at this point wouldn’t the answer to that question be more up to you than it is me?”

Up to me…

Pondering for another short while the Rustler eventually came to a decision.

"Leave this place and never return," he said firmly, his voice carrying a finality that left no room for negotiation. "If our paths ever cro—"

“I swear that won’t happen,” the woman cut. “Thanks, thanks!” Before rushing out of the room as if afraid he would change his mind.

The Rustler stood there, watching, as if lost in his own thoughts, as she did.

Won’t you ask why?

“No,” she replied calmly. “We both already know why, so why would I?”

I see.

On these words of thoughts silently exchanged, silence settled between them as the Rustler walked to a corner of the room, where a lamp stood. With a calm demeanor, he slammed the lamp against a nearby wall, causing it to shatter and flames to engulf the area.

He watched the flames dance and spread, his heart lighter than it were when he walked this castle gate or perhaps heavier, he didn’t know, he didn’t care, he just knew he was done with what he was here for.

***

As the flames continued to consume the castle, the Rustler emerged from its burning depths. He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the inferno that once stood as a tall impregnable-looking fortress. The crackling of flames filled the air, casting an eerie glow upon his face, which bore a complex expression of both satisfaction and melancholy.

Turning away from the wreckage, he began to make his way towards the exit. However, to his surprise, he found himself confronted by a group of knights forming a blockade in his path to the domain entrance. Clad in their armor, they stood resolute, their swords gleaming in the dim light.

“You saw that? It’s—”

Yeah, I know, it’s him.

Casually walking up to them, the Rustler's eyes narrowed, his senses heightened. He knew that this encounter was not a mere coincidence. The knights had likely been waiting for him, anticipating his emergence from the castle. But whether this time they sought to apprehend him or eliminate him remained unclear.

Fairly as he reached out a distance of merely dozens of meters from the blockade, the Rustler discerned emerging from the group of knights, a familiar face.

“Long time no see, Dainvald.”

“Young…” the man started before immediately adjusting himself. “Ethereal Breeze. Indeed it has been a long time since we last saw each other. Last time we saw each other, I was hoping it would be the last. After all, wasn't it you who said you would leave this continent.”

“I did,” the Rustler chuckled derisively. “I really did promise that, didn’t I?”

“Yet here you are, marauding across the continent like a maddened beast, killing and ransacking in broad daylight like there would no one to stand against you.”

“What do you want? Circumstances have changed. Promises weren’t upheld.”

The one I made her.

The one I made Dainvald.

The one I made him.

"But this one, I will uphold. As long as I breathe, they shall not sleep with ease. I will be the nightmare to come in their sleep. I will come for each of them."

"ALEXEI!!" Dainvald's voice thundered with sudden rage. "Do you dare believe that any of your reasons could ever justify this?" he bellowed with righteous indignation, his finger stabbing accusingly at the engulfed castle.

The Rustler casted a brief glance at the burning castle behind him and felt nothing out of it. And that even Dainvald seems to have understood.

Shaking his head bitterly, he muttered with a tone just barely audible, "Forget what I called you earlier. I suppose I am not speaking to Alexei, but to none other than Ethereal Breeze."

Though Dainvald didn’t seem to have taken notice of it, his words washed the Rustler’s heart with bitterness, as he showed in his next words. “No, you’re not.”

“What?”

"I am not Ethereal Breeze. He perished the day he lost the very purpose that made him become Ethereal Breeze. The same fate befell Alexei, your Young Master, when he chose to defy your words and jump out of that wall. Just like that night, he did not listen to your words. And today, I too will not." A shimmer of lightning and swirling wind enveloped the Rustler as he proclaimed, "So you have a choice. Either step aside and let me pass, or stand in my way and cling to a distant memory of them, hoping that they will hear your words."