* Act 2 *The Shield of Deception

Rin slowed as the late morning sun began to peek in the sky, casting short shadows across the Red Prairie. The bright light revealed the outpost ahead, more organized and fortified than he had expected. This wasn’t a bandit hideout.

Rin crouched low in the shadows, his form hidden beneath the protective shroud of the Hide Crest Graph, as he carefully observed the bustling military outpost. The outpost was far more fortified than he’d expected, a full-scale military operation rather than the scrappy brigand camp Oka had described. The stone walls stretched high, lined with well-positioned barricades that offered soldiers strategic cover from any approaching enemy. Guard towers overlooked the perimeter, with sentinels keeping a sharp eye on the vast Red Prairie below.

The soldiers moved with a practiced efficiency, each clad in gleaming armor that caught the first rays of the sun as it rose slowly over the horizon. The metallic clink of armor and equipment echoed through the crisp morning air, the steady rhythm of boots crunching against the dirt as they went about their routines. Rin’s sharp eyes darted to the rows of mecha horses lined neatly in formation, their mechanical legs gleaming in the sunlight as their riders prepped them for patrol. It was clear these were no common marauders. These men were trained, disciplined, and armed to the teeth.

But Rin wasn’t here to admire their readiness. He needed information.

Carefully, Rin crept along the cliffside, keeping his footsteps light and his presence undetectable. The Crest Graph shimmered faintly, maintaining his invisibility as he slipped past two soldiers exchanging idle conversation by the stable. He could hear the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of metal cups as a small group of guards took their breakfast by the fire pit just inside the gate. The savory smell of grilled meat wafted through the air, but Rin had no time for distractions.

Moving quickly, he ducked behind a stack of crates, holding his breath as a patrol passed mere feet from him. He could feel the thrum of energy from the nearby ARMs—massive power-lance ARMs, resembling pile-drivers strapped to the soldiers' arms, crackling with untapped energy. The sheer destructive power these weapons contained was enough to turn any confrontation into a slaughter.

Rin slid along the stone wall of the barracks, his ears tuned to the soldiers' chatter. He could hear snippets of conversation—concerns about the odd fortification at Red Prairie Village, confusion over Oka’s actions, and orders from higher-ups to resolve the issue before it spiraled into something worse. As he listened, Rin’s suspicions solidified. These men weren’t the ruthless brigands Oka claimed—they were here on a mission, likely to collect the supplies they were owed as part of some long-standing arrangement with the village.

Pressing further into the camp, Rin slipped into the shadow of a tall supply tent. He peeked around the corner, spotting an officer barking orders to a group of soldiers preparing for the day’s patrol. He recognized the man from earlier—Captain Billy. Rin had heard rumors about the captain, a soldier with a strong moral compass, though a touch too trusting. A good man to have in a dangerous situation, if you could win him over.

Continuing his reconnaissance, Rin ducked into a storage area, avoiding another patrol. He took in the rows of stacked crates and barrels—likely filled with provisions, ammunition, and more ARM supplies. The soldiers here were well-stocked, prepared for any potential conflict.

As Rin made his way toward the officer’s quarters, he froze. His sharp eyes caught movement—a sentry, unexpectedly doubling back on his route. Rin held his breath, every muscle tense, as the guard paused, glancing suspiciously around the area. For a moment, it seemed as if the soldier had sensed something off, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Rin didn’t dare move.

After what felt like an eternity, the sentry shrugged it off and continued his patrol. Rin let out a slow, silent breath of relief and resumed his exploration, slipping around the perimeter of the camp. The deeper he ventured, the more evidence he gathered—maps and deployment schedules inside a command tent, talk of supplies overdue from Red Prairie, and the mounting tension between the outpost and the village.

Rin’s mind raced. Oka might have lied. The so-called "brigands" could be no more than a dwindling but organized military unit, still following their orders, still expecting the village to uphold their end of whatever arrangement they’d had in place for years. This wasn’t about pillaging—it was about survival, and Oka had turned it into a dangerous game of manipulation. Bass and Mary were being dragged into a conflict that could have been entirely fabricated.

“You hear about what happened in Red Prairie?” one soldier muttered, leaning against his mecha horse and adjusting the lance ARM on his forearm.

The other soldier shook his head. “Nah, just heard we lost a couple of guys. What’s the story?”

The first soldier frowned. “The colonel tried talking to them, but that new village leader—Oka—fortified the whole place. She’s accusing us of raiding their harvest.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” the second soldier said, scratching his neck. “We’ve had an agreement with that village for years.”

Rin’s eyes narrowed. These men weren’t marauders. They were part of a diminished but organized unit, still following their orders. And they weren’t planning to raid—they had come to collect supplies, just as they always had.

“So, what now?” the second soldier asked.

The first soldier shrugged. “Colonel’s pissed. Says we’re regrouping, but if they don’t give us what we’re owed this time, things might get ugly.”

Rin slipped away, his mind racing. Oka and Nise had lied. This wasn’t about defending the village from brigands—they had manipulated the situation to turn the Frontier Guard into scapegoats. The soldiers were here to collect what they were owed, not to pillage.

He needed to get back to the village quickly. But first, Rin decided to follow the soldiers and their commander to gather more information. With a final glance at the camp, he vanished into the shadows, his Crest Graph still masking his presence.

The truth was now clear—Red Prairie Village was at the center of a dangerous web of lies, and Rin was determined to cut through it.

As he moved silently through the camp, Rin noticed a tall, weathered man emerging from one of the larger tents. The soldiers snapped to attention as he passed, signaling his authority. This was Captain Billy—the leader of the group.

Billy strode toward his men, rubbing his temples. "Alright," he muttered. "Someone explain what happened. The colonel came back with half his unit dead or fleeing, and he’s spitting fire about Red Prairie fortifying like it’s wartime."

One of the soldiers from earlier stepped forward and saluted. "Sir, the village leader, Oka, claims to have no idea about the purpose of the auxiliary. She says we come every year to steal what’s theirs, but we’ve just been going for supplies like always."

Billy’s face twisted in confusion. "What? That village is an auxiliary supply camp. It’s literally there to provide us with resources. We built it decades ago for that reason. It’s not tribute or protection—it’s their purpose."

He shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation. "Why the hell would they fortify themselves against us? They’re supposed to help us stay supplied, and in return, we make sure the roads are safe. It’s a symbiotic relationship, not a raid."

The soldier nodded. "That’s what we thought, sir. But they were serious. Oka said if we wanted their harvest, we’d have to bring every man we’ve got and take it by force."

Billy’s expression darkened as the gravity of the situation settled on him. "This is insane. Harlan, the old chief, understood what the village was for. Who is this woman—this Oka? She is acting like we’re enemies. There’s no way this is a misunderstanding."

He crossed his arms and paced, thinking aloud. "Either she’s got an agenda we don’t know about, or someone’s feeding her false information. But if we don’t resolve this soon, it’ll escalate into a full-scale conflict. This fort can’t last without the village’s supplies."

Rin, hidden in the shadows, absorbed every word. This confirmed his suspicions—Oka had manipulated the truth, turning Bass and Mary against the Frontier Guard, making them think the soldiers were their enemies. Oka had transformed a necessary supply arrangement into a battle for survival. Whatever her plan was, it was dangerous, and Bass and Mary were caught right in the middle.

Captain Billy stopped pacing and turned to his men. "Prepare to head back to the village—but no weapons drawn. We need to talk sense into them before things spiral. And send word to the Colonel—we need more details on who’s pulling the strings."

Rin slipped away from the camp, moving swiftly and silently back toward Red Prairie Village. The situation was more complicated than anyone realized. He needed to reach Bass and Mary before this blew up completely. Oka had lied, and for the life of him, Rina couldn’t figure out why. Is stupid..

Rin, still invisible under his Hide Crest Graph and Air Screen, glided down the narrow path away from the Frontier Guard’s outpost. The early morning breeze rustled the tall grass, and the distant clamor of the outpost faded behind him. He had gathered what he needed—Oka’s deception was clear, and Bass and Mary were in the thick of it. Now, he just needed to make it back to the village undetected.

As he descended further, Rin spotted a figure standing high on a boulder, silhouetted against the dawn. A cloak fluttered in the wind, and the figure’s body was wrapped in bandages, with dark hair whipping around.

Rin narrowed his eyes. Whoever this was, they didn’t look like a soldier or villager. He considered sneaking past, until the figure raised their arms and spoke, their voice carried by the wind.

“I call upon the power from the alien realm beyond! Let the might of the Encroaching Kuiper Dimension bend to my will!”

Rin raised an eyebrow. Oh no, he thought. One of those types.

Before he could move, a surge of energy rippled through the air, disrupting space around him. To his shock, the power she summoned dispelled his Hide and Air Screen Crests, rendering him fully visible in the open.

Phalanx, still standing on the boulder, froze mid-speech and turned slowly to face him. Her eyes widened in surprise. "Who... are you?"

Rin blinked, equally confused. He quickly composed himself, folding his arms and giving her a casual nod. "I could ask same."

Phalanx narrowed her eyes, studying Rin with clear frustration. Her posture was rigid, arms crossed over her chest as she attempted to make sense of his sudden appearance. "You’re not one of the people I’m after... but how did you...get residual Guardian Force on you?" she trailed off, her confusion evident. It was as though her mind was trying to fit him into a puzzle where he clearly didn’t belong.

As Rin and Phalanx continued their conversation, a small, innocent creature—a prairie hare—hopped out from behind a nearby boulder, oblivious to their presence. It paused for a moment, nibbling on a blade of grass, its tiny nose twitching in the early morning light.

Phalanx spotted it out of the corner of her eye and immediately tensed, her body going rigid. "What’s that?" she hissed, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Rin glanced over, instantly recognizing the harmless animal. "Is just—"

Before he could finish, Phalanx thrust her hand forward, summoning a pulse of dark energy. "Begone, foul beast!" she shouted, her voice ringing with exaggerated authority.

A massive, swirling vortex of destructive power exploded from her palm, obliterating not just the hare but the entire section of the ground around it. The blast echoed through the air, leaving a smoking crater where the tiny creature once stood. Dust and debris hung in the air as the ground smoldered, charred and broken.

Rin blinked, momentarily stunned by the absurd level of overkill. "It... just hare," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Phalanx lowered her hand, a self-satisfied grin spreading across her face. "I won’t be taken by surprise," she declared, oblivious to the unnecessary destruction she had just unleashed. "No enemy can hide from me."

Rin sighed, rubbing his temples. "Right. No... enemy."

Rin remained perfectly calm, his expression betraying nothing. He gave a slight tilt of his head, as if the situation were no more than a mild inconvenience. "What you want?" he asked, his voice level, almost disinterested.

Phalanx straightened, drawing herself up with a self-important air, the frustration melting away as she seized the opportunity to assert herself. "I am Phalanx, Herald of the Stain Paradigm, destined to bring this world to its knees and summon the Kuiper Dimension to devour it whole!" Her voice rang with theatrical grandeur, the words heavy with conviction, as if she had rehearsed this speech many times before. She paused for dramatic effect, clearly expecting some kind of reaction.

Rin, however, offered none. He simply waited, unfazed, and this only seemed to spur Phalanx on further.

"My power grows," she continued, her tone becoming more animated. "But I’ve encountered... setbacks." Her brow furrowed, and a note of bitterness crept into her voice. "I crush my enemies, but somehow, they slip away... it's maddening. I feel like I’ve won, but something tells me I haven’t."

Rin raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her candor. "Setbacks?" he prompted, sensing there was more to her frustration.

Phalanx clenched her fists, pacing back and forth atop the boulder. "Yes, setbacks!" she snapped, her agitation evident. "I rain destruction upon them, wipe out everything in my path. Yet... every time I’m left wondering—did they survive? Could they possibly have escaped? It's as if I’ve scorched the earth, but they leave no trace behind, no proof of their demise!" Her voice rose with each word, and Rin could hear the deep frustration bubbling beneath her composed facade.

She stopped pacing and looked directly at Rin, her gaze sharp. "They should be dead! But something tells me—some gut feeling—that they’re still out there, mocking me. How can that be? How can I have such overwhelming power and still be denied my rightful victory?"

Rin considered her words carefully, weighing his response. Phalanx was clearly powerful, but her confidence was mixed with uncertainty. He realized that despite her bravado, she was grappling with doubt—something she was clearly unaccustomed to.

"Maybe aim too wide," Rin suggested, his tone measured. "Crushing everything, leaves room for mistakes. Maybe missing... details."

Phalanx’s eyes widened, and she stopped in her tracks, staring at him as if the thought had never occurred to her. "The details?"

Rin nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Power one thing. Precision another. If focus too broadly, leave gaps. Destroy everything... in doing so, let your target slip away."

Phalanx blinked, the idea taking root. She seemed to mull it over, her brow furrowing again—but this time in contemplation rather than anger. "So... you think I’ve been too... broad?"

"Maybe," Rin said, tilting his head slightly. "You crush world, but never confirm kill. It leave room for doubt. Room for escape."

Phalanx frowned, tapping a bandaged finger against her lips. "I always assumed overwhelming power was the solution to everything... but you’re saying I should narrow my focus? Be more precise?"

Rin gave a slight shrug, not wanting to push too hard but seeing the opportunity to nudge her in a less destructive direction. "Maybe. Sometimes bigger victory come smaller, more controlled action."

Phalanx fell silent, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words. There was a palpable shift in her demeanor—a flicker of doubt, but also something more... curiosity.

"You may have a point," she admitted grudgingly. "My attacks are grand, but they lack... subtlety. I’ve been too focused on the spectacle, not the result."

Rin watched her closely, sensing a shift in the balance of their interaction. She was no longer viewing him as an adversary or an obstacle. Instead, she seemed to be considering him an ally, or at the very least, a source of unexpected wisdom.

"You’re clever," Phalanx said after a long pause, her voice softer, almost contemplative. "I didn’t expect that."

Rin smirked faintly, but said nothing, allowing her to continue processing.

Phalanx took a deep breath and turned to face him fully, a spark of newfound determination in her eyes. "Maybe I have been too focused on crushing everything at once. Maybe I need to take a more tactical approach... narrow my vision. One target at a time."

"Exactly," Rin agreed quietly. "Focus. Precision. That’s where power lie."

Phalanx nodded slowly, her gaze sharpening as if she had just unlocked a new understanding of her own abilities. "Perhaps you’re right," she said. "I’ve been so consumed with the idea of overwhelming power... but maybe I need to refine it. Make it sharper."

Rin remained calm, but inside, he felt a quiet satisfaction. He had managed to steer this encounter in a more constructive direction—at least for now. But as he looked into Phalanx’s eyes, he could still see the dangerous ambition burning beneath the surface. This wasn’t over by any means.

"So, what now?" Phalanx asked, her voice suddenly calm, almost cold. "Where do I find these... smaller victories?"

Rin tilted his head, considering how to guide this next step. "One step at a time. Start with the next obstacle in front of you. Focus on that—and you’ll get your answers."

Phalanx grinned, a sharp, dangerous smile. "I like the way you think."

Rin couldn’t help but feel a slight chill run down his spine at her response. He had managed to avoid a direct conflict, but Phalanx was still a force of chaos. And now, with her sights narrowed and her tactics sharpened, she might become even more dangerous than before.

Seeing an opportunity, Rin nodded thoughtfully. "Setbacks. Strategy matters. Perhaps you’re trying too hard to overwhelm everything. Focus on one target at a time."

Phalanx blinked, surprised. "One target?"

Rin nodded. “Too much power, too fast, scatter focus. If focus on single goal, find bigger victory follow.”

Phalanx considered his words, stroking her chin. “So... instead of trying to crush the world all at once, I should... narrow my focus.”

“Exactly,” Rin said, keeping his expression serious. “Crush one obstacle at time.”

Phalanx brightened, nodding eagerly. “Yes! That makes sense. Maybe I’ve been too broad in my approach. I need to be more tactical.” She smiled at Rin. “You’re clever. Who are you?”

Rin smirked, keeping his identity vague. “Just someone.”

Phalanx tilted her head, impressed. “I like your style. Perhaps we could be allies... for now.”

Before Rin could respond, the sound of hoofbeats echoed down the road. Both of them turned to see Captain Billy and a group of Frontier Guard soldiers riding toward them, their mecha horses clanking with each step. Billy was focused on returning to Red Prairie Village.

Phalanx’s expression shifted, her gaze narrowing as she stepped forward. “More pawns. Should I deal with them?”

Rin, sensing imminent disaster, quickly intervened. “No need. Let pass. Focus on goal.”

Phalanx hesitated, eyeing the soldiers. For a moment, it looked like she might unleash her power, but then she nodded. “You’re right. Bigger victories lie ahead.”

Just as the soldiers rode past, however, Billy suddenly spotted them. His men quickly surrounded the pair, weapons drawn. Rin cursed under his breath—stealth was no longer an option.

"Hands up!" Billy commanded.

Both Rin and Phalanx were restrained before they could react. Rin stayed calm, already thinking of his next move, while Phalanx, to his surprise, seemed entertained by the situation.

As they were escorted back to the outpost, Rin glanced at her. She looked as though she thought this was all going according to plan.

Rin leaned back against the cold stone wall of the jail cell, arms crossed and eyes half-closed in contemplation. The cell was modest, with iron bars and a single bench, but neither he nor Phalanx were restrained. The guards clearly weren’t too worried about them, which Rin found both amusing and troubling. Phalanx, on the other hand, paced restlessly, her dark cloak fluttering behind her, her bandaged hands flexing as if ready to summon some cosmic power at any moment.

“We’re wasting time in here,” Phalanx muttered, frustration dripping from every word. “I could blast this place to rubble and be gone in seconds. What are we waiting for?”

Rin sighed quietly and opened one eye, watching her with mild amusement. "Blasting won’t help. These men not enemies. Just doing job."

Phalanx stopped pacing and turned to him, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "Not our enemies? They're the ones who threw us in here. They have no idea who they’re dealing with. Why should I care about their jobs?"

Rin pushed himself off the wall, standing up and facing her calmly. "EThey don’t know who are," he said. "That point. These men not here to kill. They curious. Suspicious, maybe. But not hostile. Not yet."

Phalanx blinked, clearly taken aback by the idea. "But... they locked us up."

Rin shrugged. "Being cautious. Once realize not threat, treat differently. Maybe even protect."

Phalanx scoffed, crossing her arms. "Protect us? Why would they protect anyone like me?"

Rin raised an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his lips. "Because it duty. Once see we not enemies, responsible for keeping safe. It’s how these kinds work—opposite of enemies."

Phalanx’s expression shifted, a flicker of genuine curiosity crossing her face. "Opposite of enemies? You mean... some people are just automatically not enemies? They don’t see us as threats?"

Rin nodded. "Exactly. There’s world of difference between people who see everyone as threat and those who give others benefit of doubt. The Frontier Guard—they latter. Don’t fight for fun or power. They fight because is job to protect people."

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Phalanx stared at him, her pacing stilled, clearly awestruck by this revelation. She seemed almost enchanted by the notion. "So, they’re like... obligated to keep us safe if we’re not their enemies?"

Rin nodded again. "That right. They follow rules, Phalanx. Orders. Honor, even. And once they realize we’re not problem, they interested in figuring out who is."

Phalanx looked away, pondering his words. "I never thought... people could just not be enemies."

Rin chuckled softly. "It’s strange? Not everyone out to get you. Some people just... neutral. Or even helpful, if give chance."

Phalanx fell silent for a moment, as if the concept of not blowing everything up immediately was a revolutionary idea. She finally turned to Rin, her voice softer now. "So... we wait. Let them realize we’re not enemies. And then... they’ll protect us?"

"That plan," Rin said with a casual shrug.

Phalanx gave a slow nod, clearly still processing. "I suppose... that makes sense. It’s just... different."

Rin leaned back against the wall again, a satisfied smile crossing his face. "Different good."

Phalanx, for the first time since they’d been thrown in the cell, stopped pacing entirely and sat down on the bench. Her hands rested calmly in her lap, and her eyes were wide, as if seeing the world in a new light.

"Opposite of enemies," she muttered to herself. "Who would’ve thought..."

Phalanx sat in silence for a moment, still absorbing the idea. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she stood up and pointed dramatically toward the cell door. "I don’t need their protection!" she declared loudly, her voice echoing through the stone chamber. But then, a flicker of sincerity crossed her face, and she added, almost thoughtfully, "But... it’s a sincere gesture."

Soon enough, they found themselves in the interrogation room of the outpost. It was a sparse chamber, the stone walls making it feel colder than it actually was. Two guards stood by the door while Captain Billy sat across from them, arms crossed. He glared at both of them in turn.

"So," Billy said, his voice low and suspicious. "Why were you skulking around my camp?"

Rin stayed silent for a moment, glancing at Phalanx, who was leaning back in her chair with an air of indifference. It was clear she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

"I explain," Rin said calmly, carefully choosing his words. "I needed information." He gestured slightly toward Phalanx.

Billy’s eyes narrowed. "And her? Who is she?"

Before Rin could respond, Phalanx scoffed loudly. "I am Phalanx, Herald of the Stain Paradigm!" she declared, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "Do you think your mortal weapons can contain me? I could obliterate this entire outpost with a thought!"

Rin shot her a sharp look, silently willing her to stop, but Phalanx only grinned, misreading the tension in the room. She tilted her head toward one of the guards and continued, "Should I demonstrate, or will you surrender now, peasant?"

The soldiers stiffened, their hands moving nervously to their weapons. Captain Billy stood slowly, his expression hardening. "Enough. You’re in no position to make threats."

Rin quickly stepped in, trying to de-escalate the situation. "Ignore her. She exaggerates."

Phalanx raised an eyebrow. "Exaggerate? Exaggerate? You question my power?"

Rin raised his hand in a calming gesture. "No need for... incineration. We need information—gather intel to defeat enemies, understand?"

Phalanx paused, clearly puzzled. "Gather... intel?" she repeated, as if the concept were new to her.

Rin nodded, keeping his voice calm. "You learn more by talking than... vaporizing."

Billy, still tense, watched the exchange with a frown. "You’re walking a fine line, both of you. If I don’t get some real answers, you’ll both be locked up."

Rin leaned forward, keeping his gaze steady. "I’ll tell you the truth. There’s a bigger game at play in Red Prairie Village. Oka fortified the place, preparing to resist you. But she’s lying."

Billy’s expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Go on."

Rin glanced at Phalanx, who, surprisingly, stayed quiet. "Oka’s told everyone you’re brigands—pillaging the village every year. But the truth is, she’s manipulating the situation. She wants to turn you into the enemy."

Billy blinked, clearly taken aback. "What?"

Phalanx crossed her arms and smiled, as if she had been part of the plan all along. "Yes, my tactical mind is valuable in these matters. He means the villagers are being deceived into believing they need to defend themselves from you. If you don’t clear this up, the entire village will be dragged into a conflict neither side wants."

Captain Billy leaned back, processing Phalanx’s words. He knew Oka had fortified the village, but hearing this from Rin and Phalanx was a confirmation of something much deeper. It was becoming clear that Rin wasn’t just a simple spy.

"Alright," Billy said after a pause, his tone more measured. "Oka’s twisting things back at the village, and you’ve confirmed it. You’re working to fix this mess."

Rin nodded, relieved. "Could’ve stayed quiet. Oka’s dangerous—for everyone. She’s twisted the truth."

Billy glanced at Phalanx, still looking smug as if this was all her idea. "And her? What’s her role in all of this?"

Rin shot Phalanx a quick glance, cutting in before she could say something disastrous. "She’s... complicated. Not with Oka."

Phalanx raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Rin’s vague explanation but didn’t argue. Billy, though still cautious, nodded slowly. "We’ll keep her under guard until we figure out what she’s up to."

Phalanx rolled her eyes, but Rin quickly added, "Bad idea. She’s... bad luck."

Billy stood up, signaling the guards to escort Rin and Phalanx out. "Alright. I’ll take your word for now. We’ll deal with Oka. But if anything goes wrong, you’ll both be held responsible."

Rin nodded. "Fair enough."

As they were led out of the room, Rin exhaled quietly. He had managed to calm the situation, for now. More importantly, he had bought them some time—and kept Phalanx from causing chaos with her misguided pursuit of power.

Phalanx, walking beside him, looked oddly pleased, as though everything had played out exactly as she intended. She smirked at Rin. "You’re good at this... diplomacy thing."

Rin sighed inwardly. "Yeah. Let’s keep it that way—for now."

They were safe for the moment, but with the conflict in Red Prairie still brewing and Oka’s lies threatening to ignite chaos, Rin knew things were far from over. He had to figure out how to turn this situation to their advantage—and prevent Phalanx from making it worse.

Mary paced in the small room, her fists clenched at her sides, doing everything she could to keep her temper in check. Wolf had crossed a line, and she couldn’t shake the sick feeling gnawing at her. The way he’d opened fire on the Frontier Guard without warning—it wasn’t just reckless, it was wrong. They hadn’t even acted aggressively, but Wolf had gunned them down like it was nothing.

Oka, meanwhile, stood at the center of the room, basking in the aftermath, her voice dripping with praise. “Wolf’s actions were necessary,” she said smoothly. “He showed decisive strength, and for that, I commend him.” She turned her gaze toward Bass, adding, “And of course, Bass—you’ve proven yourself invaluable. Truly, you’ve shown why we needed Dream Chasers in this village.”

Bass gave a small, awkward nod, looking like he didn’t quite know how to react to the flattery. Nise, who had been standing close to him, seized the moment and sidled even closer, her voice soft and dripping with admiration. “You really saved the day, Bass,” she murmured, her eyes wide with admiration. “Strong, capable, just what we needed…”

Zipper, meanwhile, had been busy on her own adventure. She skipped into the room, her hands cupped carefully around a small insect. “Bass! Look! I caught the coolest bug! You have to see this!”

But before Bass could even turn to acknowledge Zipper, Nise interrupted, brushing the young Elw girl aside without so much as a glance. “Bass,” she said sweetly, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, “why don’t you come with me to the cellar? I’ve got a special surprise waiting for you. A Bullet Load.”

Bass hesitated, glancing at Zipper, then back at Nise. “Uh... I mean, I could use the bullets...” he muttered, unsure.

Zipper blinked, looking from Nise to Bass, her excitement over the bug fading. She didn’t understand the tension, but before she could protest, Bass had already turned his attention to Nise, and the two were walking toward the door. “It’s fine, Zipper,” Bass said, not noticing her crestfallen expression. “I really do need the bullets.”

As they left, Mary’s simmering anger boiled over. “You’re just going to let that slide?” she snapped, her voice harsher than she intended.

Zipper looked up at Mary, confused. “But Bass does need bullets, right?”

Mary clenched her fists, biting back her response. She couldn’t explain it—not in a way that Zipper would understand. But something about Nise’s manipulation, the way she had swept Bass away so easily, it grated on her. Before Mary could say more, Oka stepped in with her usual smooth tone.

“Perhaps, Mary, you’d like to work out some of that... frustration by training some of our village men?” Oka suggested, her words lined with false sympathy. “I’m sure your expertise would be... enlightening.”

Mary’s jaw tightened. She knew Oka was baiting her, but it was hard to resist. She nodded curtly, not trusting herself to speak, and turned to leave the room. She needed air. She needed to punch something.

As she stepped outside, the cool air hit her face, but before she could take a breath, she heard the heavy, deliberate footsteps of Wolf behind her. He followed her out, that smug grin already plastered across his face. “So, this is Stagecoach Mary,” he sneered, his voice low and mocking. “I’ve heard of you.”

Mary didn’t stop walking, but she knew he wasn’t going to let it drop.

“Apostate from Fenril, huh?” Wolf continued, circling around to block her path. “Word is you stole some secrets from your masters up in Arctica. Ran off like a coward. Guess the legends weren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

Mary didn’t respond. Her gaze darkened, her eyes locking on Wolf’s with a cold, deadly precision. She didn’t correct him. She didn’t defend herself. She just stared, the thousand-yard stare that silenced men far braver than Wolf.

Wolf’s grin faltered. For a moment, it seemed like he might say more, but the intensity in Mary’s eyes made him hesitate. There was something in that look—a depth of experience, of quiet, unspoken danger—that even Wolf couldn’t deny.

For a long moment, they stood there, the wind blowing softly between them. And then, without a word, Mary turned and walked away, leaving Wolf standing there, unsure of whether he had just won or lost.

Wolf stood in the open field outside the village, his massive ARM strapped to his forearm like a hulking cannon. The contraption gleamed in the midday sun, its full-sized barrel intimidating as it hung heavily from his arm. He grinned, that familiar cocky gleam in his eye, watching as Mary walked out to face him. Her posture was relaxed, arms at her sides, but her eyes were sharp, focused.

“I’ve heard the stories, Stagecoach Mary,” Wolf sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. “But I think it's about time I find out if they’re true. You think you’re some big shot Dream Chaser, but without a gun? You're just a kid playing hero.”

Mary didn’t react. Her calm, measured gaze held on Wolf, her hand never moving toward her sword. “I don’t need a gun to take you out,” she said, her voice flat, almost bored.

Bass, standing nearby with Zipper, rubbed the back of his neck, glancing between them. “Wolf, you really don’t want to do this,” he said, almost apologetically. “Even without a gun, Mary’ll wipe the floor with you.”

Wolf snorted, shifting his weight and bringing the massive cannon-like ARM up for display. The size of it alone was ridiculous, a barrel bigger than most handheld ARMs, and the attachment to his arm kept it steady. “This ARM?” Wolf grinned wide. “It’s a cannon. You’re going down in one shot, Stagecoach.”

Mary sighed, shaking her head slightly. “I could beat you without drawing my sword.”

Wolf’s grin faltered for just a moment, but his bravado was too big to back down. “Oh, yeah? You think you’re that good?” He gave a mock laugh before snapping his fingers. “Fine. I’ll even nerf myself for you. I’ll load pumpkins into the cannon.” His eyes glinted as he gestured to a nearby pile of pumpkins someone had set aside for the upcoming harvest.

Mary raised an eyebrow. “You’ll load pumpkins?”

Wolf hefted the massive barrel up with both hands, balancing the weight with a practiced ease. “Yeah. Makes it fair, right? You don’t even have to use your sword.”

The escalating tension between the two was palpable. What had started as posturing had quickly become something more. Neither was backing down, and Bass knew a serious fight was about to break out.

“You’re both crazy,” Bass muttered, but he stepped back, giving them space. Zipper, wide-eyed, clung to his side, not entirely understanding the tension but sensing that things were about to get intense.

Wolf, true to his word, grabbed a couple of pumpkins and, with a flourish, loaded them into the barrel of his ARM. “See? No bullets. Just pumpkins,” he said, his voice laced with mock sweetness. “You ready, Stagecoach?”

Mary’s lips twitched into the faintest smirk. She still hadn’t drawn her sword.

The air crackled with the anticipation of battle, the sun hanging high overhead as Wolf and Mary squared off. Wolf shifted his stance, leveling the massive cannon-arm at her, while Mary remained perfectly still, watching his every move, calculating.

“Last chance, Stagecoach,” Wolf said, his finger itching over the trigger. “You sure you don’t want to draw that sword?”

Mary’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I won’t need to.”

That was it. With a roar, Wolf fired the first pumpkin, the massive projectile whooshing through the air at breakneck speed. But Mary was already moving. She sidestepped smoothly, the pumpkin missing her by inches and splattering harmlessly against the ground behind her.

Wolf barely had time to blink before Mary was in motion again. She dashed toward him, her movements a blur of speed and precision. Wolf grunted, trying to realign his cannon-arm, but she was too fast. By the time he fired the second pumpkin, Mary had already closed the distance, ducking low and weaving to the side as the pumpkin sailed past.

“Stay still!” Wolf growled, frustrated as he tried to line up another shot.

But Mary was relentless, each dodge faster and more fluid than the last. She hadn’t drawn her sword, just as she’d promised, and yet, with every step, she was backing Wolf into a corner. His shots, though powerful, couldn’t match her agility.

Wolf gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He launched another pumpkin, this time aiming at her feet, hoping to catch her off-guard. But Mary leapt effortlessly over the projectile, spinning mid-air and landing directly in front of him.

Before Wolf could react, Mary kicked the cannon-arm sideways, disrupting his aim. The force of her kick sent Wolf staggering back, and the final pumpkin shot wildly into the sky, arcing before landing in a messy splatter far behind them.

Wolf growled, shaking his arm to regain his balance. “You... you think you can just dance around forever?”

Mary didn’t respond, her eyes cold and focused as she stepped forward. In one fluid motion, she grabbed Wolf by the front of his shirt, her strength belying her size, and threw him to the ground with a sharp twist.

Wolf gasped as the air was knocked from his lungs, and before he could scramble back up, Mary had her boot pressed firmly against the cannon-barrel, pinning it to the ground.

Wolf lay there, stunned, staring up at her in disbelief. “What the hell...?”

Mary leaned in slightly, her gaze locked on his, her voice calm and deadly. “You talk big, Wolf,” she said quietly, “but in the end, all you’ve got is howls.”

Wolf’s face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. He struggled against the weight of his own ARM, but Mary’s boot kept it pinned in place.

The village men who had gathered to watch the showdown stood in stunned silence, unsure whether to cheer or gasp. The fight, though quick, had been brutal, and Mary hadn’t even drawn her sword.

Bass crossed his arms, shaking his head with a smirk. “Told you, Wolf. She didn’t need a gun.”

Zipper, ever the optimist, clapped her hands excitedly. “That was so cool! Mary, you didn’t even have to fight hard!”

Mary gave Wolf one last look before removing her boot from his ARM and turning her back on him. “Next time,” she said softly, “don’t shoot first.”

Wolf sat up slowly, rubbing his arm where the cannon-barrel had been pressed down. He muttered something under his breath, but it was clear to everyone that Mary had won—and she hadn’t even needed to unsheathe her blade to do it.

Wolf lay on the ground for a moment, breathing heavily, his eyes still wide with the shock of Mary’s speed and strength. But instead of bitterness or anger, something surprising happened. He sat up, wiped the dust off his shirt, and let out a low, impressed whistle.

“Well, damn,” he muttered, shaking his head with a wry grin. “I guess the legends weren’t lies after all.”

Mary paused, mid-step, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. She had expected more posturing, more excuses, but instead, Wolf was... grinning? His tone wasn’t mocking, though—he was sincere, even a little in awe.

Wolf got to his feet, brushing off the remaining dirt with a laugh. “You really are the real deal, Stagecoach. I mean, I thought those stories were just talk, you know? Figured you were just another Dream Chaser with a big reputation and no way to back it up. But after seeing that...”

He looked at her, and his expression shifted into something almost respectful. “You’ve definitely proven yourself. I don’t even know what I was thinking challenging you. That was incredible.”

Mary blinked, clearly caught off-guard by the sudden change in his attitude. She had been prepared for more bravado, more insults, but Wolf’s easy grin was disarming.

Bass, watching from the sidelines, raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the sudden turn of events. “Well, that’s... unexpected.”

Wolf turned to Bass, shrugging. “What can I say? I’m a man who knows when he’s been outclassed.” He then looked back at Mary, his tone light but sincere. “I owe you an apology. For the Frontier Guard thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh... only shot at them because I was trying to impress you.”

Mary’s eyes widened, and she stared at him for a moment, unsure if she had heard him right. “You... shot at them to impress me?”

Wolf laughed, a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d notice a guy who takes charge and doesn’t back down from a fight.” He shrugged again, clearly unbothered by his own confession. “I didn’t think they’d actually go down that easily... or that they weren’t the bad guys.” He grimaced. “I really screwed that part up, huh?”

Bass chuckled, shaking his head. “You think?”

Zipper, who had been watching the whole thing with wide eyes, giggled. “You’re really funny, Wolf! Trying to impress Mary like that!”

Wolf gave her a playful grin. “Hey, what can I say? When you’ve got someone as legendary as Stagecoach Mary around, you’ve got to step up your game.” He looked back at Mary, his expression more serious. “But for real, I’m sorry about that. I acted like an idiot.”

Mary didn’t respond immediately, still taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. But she could see the sincerity in his eyes, and after a moment, she sighed, her anger starting to dissipate. “You’re lucky those two men weren’t killed.”

Wolf nodded. “Yeah, I know. And that’s on me. But I’ve learned my lesson.” He grinned, the cockiness now tempered by a newfound respect. “Besides, now that I’ve seen what you can do, I’m just glad you didn’t kick my ass harder.”

Mary shook her head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips despite herself. “Next time, don’t start fights you can’t finish.”

Wolf chuckled again, slinging his cannon-arm across his back with a flourish. “Deal.” He extended a hand, still grinning. “Friends?”

For a long moment, Mary just stared at his hand, as if trying to figure out what kind of game he was playing. But there was no trick this time—just genuine respect.

Finally, she shook his hand, her grip firm. “Friends.”

Wolf’s grin widened, and he clapped her on the shoulder like they had been best pals all along. “You ever need someone to back you up in a fight, you know where to find me. I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Just... don’t expect me to challenge you again anytime soon.” He laughed.

Bass shook his head, clearly amused. “Well, that’s one way to make peace.”

Zipper, beaming, skipped over and showed Wolf the cool bug she had caught earlier. “Look, Wolf! I caught this awesome bug! You wanna see?”

Wolf knelt down, smiling at the little Elw. “Sure thing, kid. Let’s see what you got.”

And just like that, the tension that had filled the air earlier melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie. Mary had earned Wolf’s respect the hard way, and to his credit, Wolf wasn’t too proud to admit when he’d been beaten. He was loud, brash, and reckless, but at least now, he was on their side.

As Zipper beamed and skipped over to show Wolf the cool bug she had caught earlier, she held it up proudly. “Look, Wolf! I caught this awesome bug! You wanna see?”

Without missing a beat, and clearly not thinking too much about it, Wolf grinned and, to everyone’s horror, snatched the bug from her hand and popped it into his mouth, chewing with satisfaction.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause.

Zipper blinked, her eyes wide. Then, suddenly, she burst into laughter, clutching her sides. “You... you ate it! You actually ate my bug!”

Wolf blinked, realizing what he'd done. He scratched his head sheepishly and chuckled along with her. “Well, I, uh... oops.”

The awkwardness melted away as Zipper’s laughter filled the air, and even Bass and Mary couldn’t help but crack a smile at the ridiculousness of it all.

Bass followed Nise down the narrow stairs, the dim light casting long shadows across the stone walls. The cellar had an odd, musty smell, but as they descended deeper, he began to notice something else—a metallic scent mingling with the dust. When Nise reached the bottom and lit a small lantern, the light flickered across a sight that took Bass by surprise.

The cellar wasn’t just a storage room. It was a treasure trove. Rows upon rows of crates lined the stone walls, each filled with ARMs supplies—everything from ammunition to maintenance kits, specialized tools, and Dream Chaser gear. Old weapon parts, neatly stacked boxes of explosives, and pristine Bullet Loads rested atop the shelves, glittering faintly in the low light. Peacemaker’s worn holster felt heavier on his hip as his eyes scanned the impressive stash.

“Where did all this come from?” Bass asked, his voice quiet as he stepped closer to one of the crates and ran his hand over the dusty lid.

Nise shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s always been here. No one thought much about it before.” She watched him closely, her eyes lingering on Peacemaker as he pulled it from its holster.

Bass opened one of the nearby crates, revealing rows of Bullet Loads neatly stacked and gleaming like treasures. Without a second thought, he loaded Peacemaker again—seven rounds clicking into place as he spun the chamber and pocketed a second Bullet Load for good measure. His hand brushed over the ornate carving of the winged lion on the gun’s barrel, and for a moment, the weight of Peacemaker in his hand felt right again, like he’d just found a missing part of himself.

The cellar was larger than it seemed, stretching deeper into the shadows, filled with items that told a story he didn’t fully understand. Who had gathered all these supplies? How had Oka managed to hide it for so long? His thoughts raced as he stared at the arsenal, piecing together what little made sense.

He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t hear Nise break the silence.

“Bass...” Her voice was small, almost fragile. “You should take me away. We could leave tonight. Just run.”

Bass blinked, turning to face her. “What?” he asked, his brow furrowing. That was the last thing he expected her to say.

She stepped closer, her eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and something else—something darker. “Oka... she’s not my real mother. We... we were grifters before this. We came here months ago, talked our way into this village through the old man who was in charge. Oka married him, took over everything.” Her voice wavered, and Bass could hear the guilt buried deep beneath her words.

Bass crossed his arms, his face unreadable as he absorbed the revelation. “You’re saying this whole thing—taking over the village, fortifying it... it was a con?”

Nise nodded, her lips trembling. “Oka has always used me. I really can see things... things that lead me to opportunities. She took advantage of it. Used me.” She hesitated, tears welling up in her eyes. “But I’m not like her. I can’t do this anymore. I want to leave. With you.”

Bass took a step back, shaking his head slowly. “I’m not running with you, Nise.”

Her face crumpled for a moment before she quickly stepped toward him, closing the distance. “Please, Bass. You’re the only one who can protect me. We can just go—right now—before things get worse.”

Before he could react, Nise leaned forward and kissed him, a desperate act, her lips pressing against his, begging for an escape. Bass stiffened in shock, but his anger flared quickly. He gently but firmly pushed her back, his jaw tightening. Without a word, he holstered Peacemaker and turned, heading for the stairs.

As he began to ascend, shaking his head with pity, Nise’s desperation turned to fury. “Coward!” she screamed, grabbing a jar of pickles from a nearby shelf and hurling it at him. It shattered against the wall, the sound echoing in the cellar as glass and brine scattered across the floor.

Bass didn’t even look back. He just kept walking, the weight of the moment—and the Bullet Loads in his pocket—pulling him forward as the cellar fell silent behind him.

Zipper hadn’t been hunting bugs, but she did stumble across one while searching for the elusive healberry shrub. Following Bass’s advice from earlier, she managed to locate a small patch of them by midmorning. The berries weren’t exactly plentiful, and most of what she found was still underripe, but she carefully gathered a handful into her pouch. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to treat the two "brigands" that Wolf had shot. Too bad there was nothing she could do for the three mecha horses that had been destroyed.

With her small collection of healberries in hand, Zipper made her way to the infirmary. The building was quiet, with a sense of unease hanging in the air. Inside, the village nurse was tending to the two injured soldiers, their wounds already bandaged but clearly still in pain. When Zipper entered, the nurse glanced up, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the wrappings on one of the men.

“Why did this happen?” the nurse mumbled under her breath, though she quickly fell silent when Zipper approached. There was a flicker of fear in her eyes, as if she knew better than to question what had happened aloud.

Zipper held out the berries. “I found some healberries. They’re not fully ripe, but I think they’ll still help.”

The nurse blinked in surprise but accepted the berries with a grateful nod, swiftly preparing a paste by crushing them with water and herbs. She applied the mixture to the soldiers’ wounds, the effect almost immediate. Within minutes, the men’s pained expressions softened as the potent berries began their work. Zipper, standing nearby, watched with quiet satisfaction, relieved to be of help in some way.

Once the soldiers were stable, Zipper took a seat beside one of the beds and, after a moment of hesitation, decided to ask a few questions. “So... what happened out there? You guys aren’t really brigands, are you?”

One of the soldiers, his face pale but showing signs of recovery, opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. After a few seconds, he whispered, “It wasn’t... a robbery. It was... a resupply.”

Zipper’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. “A resupply?” she asked, leaning closer, but before the injured man could elaborate, the door to the infirmary creaked open.

Oka strode in, her presence cold and commanding, with Wolf following behind, his usual smug grin plastered on his face. The room fell into an uneasy silence as Oka’s sharp gaze surveyed the scene. It was as though her very presence sucked the air from the room.

“They are to remain silent until properly questioned,” Oka stated, her tone icy as she addressed Zipper, the words heavy with warning.

Zipper’s mouth opened slightly, as if to protest, but something about Oka’s glare stopped her. Still, the questions buzzed in her mind. She glanced back at the injured soldiers, one of them catching her eye briefly before looking away, fear evident in his gaze.

Oka’s voice cut through the tension again. “Zipper, your duty isn’t to interrogate these men. Your job, as per our agreement, is to defend this village. Or have you forgotten the contract we made?”

Zipper blinked, taken aback. “But... I thought I was helping.”

Oka’s smile was tight, calculating. “You promised your services as a Dream Chaser to defend this village. Not its enemies.”

Wolf, arms crossed, leaned against the wall with an amused chuckle. “Seems like someone needs a reminder of who the real threat is.”

Zipper’s fists clenched at her sides, her heart pounding with frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Leave it, Zipper,” Oka interrupted, her voice final. “They’ll be questioned when the time is right. For now, your place is elsewhere. Do not forget the terms of your contract.”

Zipper’s face flushed, but she bit back her retort, rising from the chair. Wolf’s mocking grin only fueled the frustration bubbling within her. It had been years—decades, even—since she’d felt this kind of anger. She had come here to help, and instead, she was being brushed aside, made to feel like a child who didn’t understand the situation.

Without another word, Zipper turned and stomped outside, her mind racing with unanswered questions and unspoken arguments. She could feel the weight of Oka’s manipulative control pressing down on her, and for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t sure what to do. All she knew was that something about this entire situation was very wrong.