"What are you doing, Salkz?"
A harsh yet commanding voice echoed across the roof—calm, slow, but heavy with authority.
"It was nothing, brother."
Salkz answered while looking down, his tone natural, yet carrying a faint trace of fear.
A man in a long grey coat stood above him, staring down.
"It doesn't seem like nothing. Are you trying to lie to me?"
He suddenly grabbed Salkz's curly black hair and yanked his head up.
"Look into my eyes, Salkz. Look here."
Salkz's expression twisted with irritation for a moment before he forced himself to meet the gaze. The man before him had similar curly black hair—longer—but his sharp, tightening eyebrows made his anger far more intense. For Salkz, though, this face was nothing new.
Grinding his teeth, he responded in a sharp, trembling voice—
"I was just fooling around… and this Kabir was the first one to rush into a fight."
The man in the grey coat bent down closer to him.
"Is that so? Then why did you use Inamon's name in your 'fooling'?"
Salkz hesitated, unsure of what to say, his eyes still locked on his brother.
"I asked something, Salkz."
"Ye… yes—"
Before he could finish, a fist—adorned with two rings—came crashing into his cheek.
It was his brother.
The impact echoed sharply.
Around them, the noise on the rooftop began to shift. Those still struggling on the ground slowly lifted their heads. As they saw the man in the grey coat, murmurs spread like wildfire—
"Hey… it's Master… it's Volf…"
"What's he doing here?"
"Doesn't he hate these sports events?"
"Isn't there an important meeting going on?"
"Whatever it is… Salkz and Kabir are done for now…"
"More than Kabir, Salkz is finished…"
"Let that bastard get it…"
"Kabir deserves worse… he disrespected the real Vin'ash…"
The whispers faded as the man spoke again.
"Hmmm… what did I tell you? I don't want to repeat myself every time. It makes me look like a fool… dealing with someone like you who keeps repeating the same mistake."
Salkz's face burned red, trembling from pain. Still, he tried to respond—
"But brother, it was just a—"
Smack.
Another hit.
His body bent sideways from the force, but the men holding him didn't even flinch. Their grip tightened, pulling him back upright.
The man in the grey coat stood straight.
"And who are you to criticize?"
He turned toward the silent crowd.
"Where is Kafiz?"
A voice emerged—
"He is down there, Master Volfnokz."
Volfnokz sighed and turned, now facing Kabir. Under the pale moonlight, his sharp brows twitched again.
Meanwhile, Laryoal stood aside, lost in his thoughts—
What is happening all of a sudden… I just wanted to enjoy the game. First time… maybe last, if the leader loses interest tomorrow. Still… not boring at all.
He covered his nose with a bath towel, trying to block the dust lingering in the air.
"Now you, Kabir. What do you have to say?"
Volfnokz stood upright, hands behind his back.
Kabir didn't flinch.
"Well, Volfnokz… maybe you should teach your brother first. He doesn't know how to follow orders—despite belonging to the most powerful family meant to protect them."
His gaze was sharp, almost mocking.
"Hey, Kabir. Watch how you speak."
Arifoam's firm voice came from behind as two men gripped Kabir's shoulders tightly. He winced slightly.
"Hmmm… it's fine, Arifoam," Volfnokz said calmly. "Let him speak. He's no different from Salkz in my eyes."
A pause.
"Now tell me—what excuse do you have? Something other than your dead sister?"
Kabir's eyes flickered. Rage burned silently within him.
"That's not it. He clearly insulted Ina—"
"Stop."
Volfnokz cut him off.
"Stop using your dead sister as justification—for starting fights, for breaking discipline. It's always the same excuse. Can't you let her rest? Or do you plan to keep using her for everything you do wrong?"
Silence.
Kabir's body stiffened like stone. His fists clenched so tightly that even the men holding him struggled for a moment—but they tightened their grip further.
"But it was Salkz who started it!" Sana's voice rang out from below.
"Sana Venzor… what are you doing here? Does your father or brother know? I just met Varhan before coming here." volfknoz harsh voice fall down from the roof towards sana
Sana was still looking on the roof towards volfknoz then turned towards kabir as,
The referee, who had just managed to calm the players, stepped beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Arifoam stepped forward.
"Master, should we inform the lord?"
Volfnokz glanced at him.
"You know why we exist, Arifoam. So we don't bother the leader for every small issue. You should have stopped this earlier—handled Kabir first, then reported Salkz properly. Either to the referee… or to me."
"…Yes, my lord. I failed in my duty."
Volfnokz turned toward the old referee.
"Master Alzonn… stop these events if you cannot control them. I say this with respect. These hot-blooded fools don't understand discipline. Let them rot at home after their duties—then they might learn."
A pause.
"I had to come here personally… while an important meeting is ongoing. Guests from different cities are still present."
"Yes… Volf. I understand," Alzonn replied, visibly embarrassed. "I will make arrangements."
"And take action. Both teams. Discipline them. Even for what happened here on the roof."
The players lowered their heads, clutching their wounds, clearly unhappy—but silent.
"And Arifoam… the guest Varhan entrusted you with—where is he?"
"He is here, Master. Right there… the one standing barefoot, holding a towel."
Volfnokz's gaze shifted.
Laryoal stood still, towel covering his nose.
"Hmmm… apologies for the inconvenience, sir," Volfnokz said calmly. "This is not usual. The town is normally well-controlled. But young ones… they tend to act recklessly before they mature."
Laryoal simply waved his hand.
Strange people… why do I even care? Are all government workers like Arifoam?
Meanwhile, whispers began again—
"That's the guest…"
"I saw him earlier…"
"Why is he barefoot?"
"Wait… is he wearing anything at all?"
"Just that cloth… and a towel?"
"Volf might take this seriously…"
"The games are done for today…"
All eyes briefly shifted toward Laryoal. He stayed still, uncomfortable but composed.
Nearby—
"Hey, Vyana… isn't that the guy we bumped into earlier?"
"Yes…"
Vyana looked at him, a soft smile forming.
Volfnokz steadied himself once more.
"This is your last warning. If you don't change… the old rules will return. And I will personally recommend it to the lord."
A heavy silence followed.
"Release them."
The men let go of Salkz and Kabir.
"Salkz, come with me. It's late. Mother must be waiting."
Volfnokz turned and walked toward the far edge of the roof.
"All of you… leave."
Without hesitation, the others followed him.
Salkz, wiping blood from his nose, glanced back at Kabir.
"I'll see you next time."
Then he left.
Arifoam approached Kabir, who still knelt on the ground.
"How many times do I have to tell you…?"
Kabir said nothing.
Sana stood silently, watching him. Meanwhile, the referee continued shouting at the remaining players.
Laryoal exhaled, tired from watching everything. His gaze drifted across the dispersing crowd—
—and then he saw her.
The same girl from earlier.
Vyana.
Standing amidst the moving crowd… still looking at him. That same soft smile. She raised her hand slightly.
Laryoal quickly looked away and began walking toward the wall near the room where Arifoam stood.
Why is she looking at me? There are half-naked people everywhere… I look better than them. And many are barefoot too…
"Vyana, come. It's late. What are you looking at?"
"Nothing."
She turned away.
Behind them, Sana still stood, watching Kabir… as the referee's voice echoed across the ground.
______
The End
To be continued ••