White fog drifted endlessly through the narrow streets of Shadowhaven.
The deeper the three Royal Knights walked into the kingdom, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. Every alley felt narrow. Every rooftop felt occupied. Even the lanternlight seemed dimmer beneath the heavy mist.
Taren adjusted the cloth covering the lower half of his face and glanced around uneasily.
"…So what's the plan now?"
Lio walked ahead calmly, hands hidden beneath his dark cloak. " We need information," he answered simply.
They turned into a narrower district.
A few violet lanterns illuminated the damp stone streets while drunken voices echoed faintly nearby. Several men sat outside a worn tavern, bottles scattered across the ground while smoke drifted lazily into the fog.
The three continued walking without removing their hoods. Then—
"Huh…?"
One of the drunken men noticed them immediately. The group slowly quieted.
"…Oi," another muttered. "Stop right there."
Footsteps approached. Five men blocked the narrow alley ahead of them, rough-looking figures carrying knives and rusted weapons beneath their cloaks.
The man in front grinned crookedly. "You're not supposed to be here." His eyes narrowed suspiciously beneath the fog. "What faction are you from?"
Silence.
The man stepped closer. "Do you idiots even know it's a crime stepping into territory that ain't yours?" Behind him, the others laughed quietly.
Taren leaned slightly toward Lio. "…Should we fight them?"
"Leave them be," Lio answered calmly. "Keep walking."
The three ignored them and continued forward. "…Hey." The grin vanished from the thug's face. "I told you to stop....."
CRASH—
A glass bottle shattered against the back of Kael's head. Kael stopped walking completely.
Taren slowly looked to Kael. "…Shit. This means trouble."
The fog around them suddenly felt heavier.
The group approached confidently, unaware of what they had just provoked.
One thug reached forward and gripped Kael's shoulder roughly. Then—
BOOM.
Kael's fist moved so fast the air cracked.
The man was launched several meters across the alleyway, smashing violently into a wooden stall before collapsing unconscious.
Silence.
The remaining thugs froze. Kael slowly turned his head, eyes cold beneath the hood.
"…You bastard—!"
The group rushed them simultaneously. Then the beating began. Taren drove his elbow into one thug's jaw before sweeping another onto the ground with his spear shaft.
Lio moved like flowing water through the fog, striking pressure points with precise blows that dropped enemies instantly before they even realized what happened.
Kael—
Kael simply overwhelmed them. A single punch shattered a wooden crate together with the man behind it. Another thug tried swinging a blade only for Kael to grab his face and slam him straight into the stone wall.
Within seconds, the alley fell silent.
Broken bottles rolled slowly across the ground. Groans filled the fog-covered street while battered bodies lay scattered everywhere.
Kael grabbed the first man—the one who threw the bottle—and lifted him off the ground with one hand. The thug trembled violently, nose bleeding heavily.
Kael's voice lowered coldly. "I'm going to ask you questions." His grip tightened slightly. "Answer honestly… and your life will be spared."
"Y-YES…!" the man cried immediately. "I-I'll talk!"
"This is the place…"
The thug's voice trembled as he pointed toward an old establishment hidden between two narrow alleyways beneath the heavy fog.
The wooden sign above the entrance creaked softly in the wind. No name. No markings. Just a dim violet lantern hanging near the door.
Kael slowly lowered the tip of his sword from the man's back. "…You can go now."
The thug nearly collapsed from relief. "Th-thank you, boss…!" He immediately ran into the fog without looking back.
Taren watched him disappear. "…You scared the soul out of him."
Kael scoffed quietly. "Good."
Without another word, the three approached the establishment and stepped inside.
The restaurant was nearly empty.
Only a few lanterns illuminated the old wooden interior while the scent of strong alcohol and cooked meat lingered in the air. At the counter sat an old man calmly cleaning a cup with a rag.
"Come in…" he muttered casually.
Silence followed.
Then, the old man spoke again without even looking at them.
"What's your purpose here… Aurelian Knights?"
SHHK—
All three unsheathed their weapons instantly.
Kael's blade stopped inches from the old man's throat while Taren lowered his spear toward him. Lio remained silent, his blade hidden beneath the old man's chin.
The old man slowly raised both hands.
"Relax…" he sighed. "If I wanted you dead, you would've been dead before entering my store."
The tension remained.
The old man finally looked at them properly. "I know everything that enters this island." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Especially outsiders pretending to hide beneath cheap cloaks."
Lio spoke calmly first.
"…You know why we're here?"
The old man chuckled softly. "You want information, right? " He leaned back slightly. "You came to the right place."
A pause.
"But…" His smile faded slightly. "…Information in Shadowhaven is never free."
"We'll pay," Lio answered immediately.
The old man grinned.
"Good." He placed the cup down slowly. "That's what we call business, lad."
He leaned forward slightly beneath the dim lanternlight. "People here don't kill because of anger or revenge." His eyes sharpened. "Everything has a price."
Silence filled the room.
Then Lio asked quietly— "…Tell me more."
The lanternlight flickered softly.
"The Veiled Daggers…" he muttered. He pointed toward the fog-covered streets outside.
"Every assassination story you've heard across the kingdoms…" His voice lowered. "…Every noble who suddenly died in his sleep. Every king poisoned during peace talks. Every general who vanished before war."
"…Most of them lead back here."
Taren frowned slightly. "So they're mercenaries?"
The old man chuckled. "No." He shook his head slowly. "Mercenaries fight wars."
"The Veiled Daggers end them."
Silence.
"They're an underground society built entirely around assassination contracts. Nobles hire them secretly. Kingdoms pretend to hate them publicly while feeding them gold behind closed doors."
Kael crossed his arms. "And people just allow that?"
"They allow it because they fear them." The old man's eyes narrowed. "But be careful, there are assassins who took pride in their strengths."
He continued—
"Assassins here climb ranks through contracts, reputation… and death duels."
Taren blinked. "…Death duels?" The old man nodded slowly. "Some assassins become obsessed with status." A grin slowly formed on his face. "If they believe someone is stronger than them…"
"…They challenge them."
"To the death."
The room fell silent briefly.
"The higher your rank…" the old man continued, "…the more feared you become. The more respected."
Then his gaze shifted carefully between the three knights. "And right now…" he muttered quietly, "…the entire island already knows three outsiders have entered Shadowhaven alive."
The old man lowered his cup slowly.
"And now…" he muttered, eyes narrowing beneath the dim lanternlight, "…you finally understand."
Silence filled the restaurant.
"The moment you stepped foot on this island…" A faint grin formed on his face. "…you became prey."
Kael tightened his grip on his sword.
"…Good."
Taren looked at him like he was insane.
Kael smirked faintly beneath his hood. "If they're hunting us…" His eyes sharpened. "…then sooner or later, they'll lead us to Seris."