Chapter 601: The Greatest Knight (Three)

After watching his mother fade into the distance, Morteza just let out a breath and slumped to the ground, looking utterly drained.

Layork’s eyes followed Behrs’ disappearing form, his expression held a mix of emotions.

“So, you and Ma Behrs have been holed up here all these years?” he asked.

Morteza rolled his eyes.

Layork frowned. “You know, Boss Morris could lend a hand…”

“Ugh. this is what she fucking wants!” Morteza cut him off, not mincing his words, “Mother keeps on saying that Brotherhood’s changing, getting bigger and wilder. She’s had her fill of that life.” “Yeah, I guess this might not be the cosiest existence,” he reflected, “but we’ll tough it out.” Morteza stood up straight, looked at Layork with a mix of jealousy and resentment, and said.

“You, on the other hand…”

Layork went quiet for a moment, to later say,

“I remember how you used to stick with Roda back in the day.”

Morteza burst out laughing, his laughter dripping with spite.

“Yeah, sure thing! Roda! The Iron Heart Roda!”

“But you know what? Look at me.” Morteza struggled to turn his body, revealing his missing arm, his frustration evident,

“He didn’t want any dead weight.”

“And do you think, after all these years, other than you, Steel Awl, and Thunder Axe, how many of us ‘Thirteen Generals’ from back in the day are still kicking? Huh, how many?” Layork didn’t respond to his probing; his gaze was fixed on Morteza’s missing arm.

“Go ahead and mark off the days, Silent Assassin.” Morteza snorted and shook his head,

“Not like there are too many left, anyhow.”

The two long-time comrades of the Brotherhood remained in silent confrontation, no words passing between them for a while.

“Morteza, is that right?”

Thales stepped up, his voice grave,

“Over these years, what exactly happened to the Abandoned Houses?”

Morteza gave Thales a brief look.

“What’s with the fancy setup?” The man scoffed, eyeing Layork,

“Who’re these three? Your new flings?”

Layork’s expression turned icy, his hand finding the blade’s handle once more.

But then Thales cleared his throat.

“Take a look, Morteza; people are actually keeping an eye on us.”

The Prince grinned, giving a nod towards the inquisitive faces around.

“So, the longer you stick around with us, the more those guys who swiped your pots—Sixth House, isn’t it?—are going to get a little bit curious about what we’re chatting about, or…”

Thales’ grin waned.

“…how much are we slipping into your pockets?”

Morteza’s expression changed.

“Pah!”

Morteza spat in annoyance,

“You gotta be one of Morris’ little pups, slick as him.”

However, Thales didn’t care at all. He just stared at him quietly.

“Now, do you want to answer the question?”

“What happened to the Abandoned Houses?”

Morteza let out a couple of snorts, glanced at Layork and the other two hulking figures, and then grudgingly started talking,

“If you remember, Layork, six years ago, on One Night—”

At this point, Morteza flicked a glance at his own severed arm and cursed angrily,

“Shit.”

No one else said a word.

“Long story short, on that day when we were out there chopping people on Red Street Market, things went south at the Abandoned Houses.”

“Roda’s son was supposed to be watching the place, but that dumbass got wasted, ended up killing a bunch of beggars, and the rest of ‘em took off…”

got wasted, ended up killing a bunch of beggars…

Thales listened to the story quietly, his face showing no emotion.

As if it were a story from someone else’s life.

Layork squinted his eyes and said,

“Quide.”

“I remember that useless guy, and I remember this whole thing.”

Morteza nodded slowly, his voice tinged with gloom,

“Some say it was a plot by the Blood Bottle Gang, and that trash ended up getting jumped by a bunch of beggars…”

Without even thinking about it, Thales lifted his hand, placing it over the scar on his chest.

“But you know what’s the real kicker? That guy’s old man used to be my old boss—because of the whole beggars’ mess, Roda went and trashed the Sunset Pub. 1 heard he even skinned alive the deputy who used to run the Abandoned Houses with his son, just for kicks while drinking.” Thales wrinkled his brow.

Morteza shrugged,

“I know Roda—trust me, this is exactly the kind of stuff he’d pull.”

Layork didn’t show any emotion,

“I know. Boss Morris had a sit-down with Tron Heart’. They got it sorted.”

Morteza scoffed sceptically,

“Sorted, my ass.”

He glared at Layork, clearly annoyed,

“After something like this went down, who the hell in the Brotherhood would even want to touch this damn mess of a place?”

Morteza turned around, taking a look at the homeless people nearby,

“With past cases to look at, if those beggars cause another ruckus, it’s like smacking Morris in the face. He’ll come after you for sure.”

“And even if you manage the beggars nicely, it’s even worse. Roda’s got his eye on his son’s mess.

If he gets wind that you’re handling the beggars, he’s gonna have a bone to pick with you.”

“And who knows, a couple more rowdy beggars might pop up. causing a scene just like with Quide. They could slit your throat while you’re passed out drunk…” Morteza gave a sarcastic chuckle with a touch of resignation in his voice,

“So, with things going this way. the only people left willing to step foot in these abandoned houses will be the elderly, frail, sick, and broken ones!”

“Morteza,” Layork hesitated for a moment.

“You…”

Morteza let out a scoff, his voice dripping with anguish and scorn.

“Here’s the thing that’s even more interesting. Roda’s been convinced that the guy who offed his kid’s still out there, so he’s got me posted up here, waiting for that beggar to stupidly waltz right back into the spider’s web—seriously, perfect excuse, right? A solid cover for tossin’ out the garbage!”

stupidly waltz right back into the spider’s web

Almost involuntarily, Thales raised his head, taking another look at Morteza.

Yet Morteza remained utterly indifferent to the connection between his words and the figure before him; he just gave a bitter smile.

“You see, guys like us… ha, we’re the live-and-let-live, open the door when the sun peeks out, lock it tight at sundown. Over time, beggars just get lazy, wander off, do their own thing. Some split, others scram, and even the street hustle ain’t worth jack.”Morteza said in a heavy, gloomy tone,

“The fresh muscle? Yeah, right. They ain’t exactly lining up—just took control of Red Street Market; who wouldn’t wanna kick back there?”

Kohen, who had been all ears, just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and he took a step forward, “So, what about the beggars who used to stay in the Abandoned Houses? They getting scarcer or what?”

Morteza gave Kohen a wary look, noting his military stance, “And who’s this now?”

Kohen grew a bit flustered, “I—”

“A newbie in the Brotherhood,” Thales said with an unchanged expression as he nudged Kohen back, “used to be in the army—and then?”

Morteza regarded Kohen with suspicion.

“The Brotherhood’s really stepping up its game, huh?” he scoffed.

“Back in the day, old army boys like you only wanted in with the Blood Bottle Gang.”

“Morteza,” Layork said sternly as a reminder.

Morteza gave a disgruntled wave of his hand.

“And then, for some godforsaken reason, Town Hall decided to stick its nose in here.”

As soon as he said that, whether it was Layork, Thales, or Kohen, all three of them were equally surprised, “Town Hall?”

“Yeah, go figure what bad luck we ran into,” Morteza said in a dispirited tone,

“Every now and then, these mighty official squads, from the cops to the blue and even the steelskinned dogs, all come over to the Abandoned Houses for surprise raids. Supposedly, it’s to crack down on human trafficking, shut down child labour gangs, and crap like that.”

“At the craziest times, the beggars in the Abandoned Houses have to scatter every week, evading checks. It’s a real mess, and it even screws up business in other spots.”

Kohen’s expression slowly changed, and he scratched his head,

“Oh, yeah, I remember, there were a couple of times they really cleared the place out…”

But Thales gave him a little pinch and asked in a serious tone,

“Why though?”

“I dunno,” Morteza said, shaking his head,

“I’ve got this buddy over in the cops’ den. He says they ain’t keen on coming here and doing this kinda stuff, you know, when there’s no money or gains to be had. Even the bigwigs there don’t fancy it.”

“But the orders come from higher-ups; they ain’t got a choice. Even if it’s all for show, they still gotta follow ’em.”

Layork still looked confused, Kohen kept scratching his head, and Glover didn’t seem to care either way.

Only Thales stood there, lost in his thoughts.

Town Hall decided to stick its nose in here…

the orders come from higher-ups…

Thales instinctively clenched his fists.

‘So, that means…’

He gritted his teeth, pushing against the surge of gratitude welling up inside him. ‘Thank you, Gilbert.’

“So, with all this fussing around in the Abandoned Houses, not making enough money to cover the costs, losing more than gaining. Boss Morris made a call: tear down the fences, let the beggars go, break ‘em down into smaller groups, and spread ‘em out among the various small crews below. A bit here, a circle there—it’s better than having ‘em all rounded up in one go.”Morteza’s expression darkened, followed by a sarcastic smile.

“With the beggars out, us useless lot… haha, we’re even more useless now, ain’t we?” Layork stayed quiet.

Kohen, though, was too preoccupied to gauge the other person’s mood. He hurriedly stepped forward,

“So, what you’re saying is that the Brotherhood’s beggars aren’t being kept in the Abandoned Houses anymore?”

“Instead, they’re spread out among the different street crews?”

Morteza raised his head and glanced at Kohen; his gaze even landed on the hilt of Kohen’s sword for a moment, a trace of confusion in his eyes. But then he shrugged and replied, “Even more than that.”

Morteza tightened up his empty right sleeve for a bit and scoffed with a smirk,

“The Brotherhood? We’ve been beggar-free for a while now.”

As soon as he said that, everyone was stuck in their tracks.

“What do you mean?” Kohen’s reaction was the strongest; his eyes wide.

“Beggar-free? Why?”

Morteza sneered,

“’Cause we can’t afford to keep them.”

“Why can’t we afford to keep them?”

Morteza fixed him with a glare,

“What, after trailing Morris for so long, you, sir, still don’t know? Is he keeping it tight up there even as he fucks you down there?”

Layork exhaled, his patience wearing thin. He once again gripped the sword hilt.

But Thales was quicker on the draw.

“Morteza, do you know what this is?”

Thales grinned, thrusting his fist forward.

Morteza spat on the ground,

“Heh, brat, I hope your fist at least can hit harder than what’s dangling beneath.”

But Thales didn’t flinch; his fist held steady.

“Now, what I’ve got here is a silver coin.”

“It’s got some king’s head stamped on it, plus a line of words.”

Morteza frowned.

Thales nodded towards the rundown house behind him, his tone mild,

“Ten seconds from now. I’m tossing it into the yard where you and your mother live, and it’ll make a nice, tinkling sound, enough to alert everyone around here.”

Morteza’s expression changed.

“Trust me, I’ve seen it; a tiny silver coin can mess with a lot of fates.”

Thales pointed at the drifters in the distance, peering over at them, his grin unfading,

“Now, I’ll ask again: Why can’t the gang afford to keep the beggars anymore?”

Morteza glared at him with a mixture of anger and resentment.

“Look, I’ve been holed up in that old shack, so I ain’t too sure,” he said, but as he saw Thales relax his fist and adopt a throwing stance, Morteza changed his words indignantly,

“But from what people on the street say, in the past few years…”

“There’s this new guy in the cops’ den.”

Thales was caught off guard,

“A new guy?”

“Yup, they call him…”

Morteza shrugged and said matter-of-factly,

“The dumbass officer.”

For a split second, everyone just stood there, stunned.

Every pair of eyes locked onto one person.

Morteza didn’t seem to care about their confused expressions and just kept on talking, “Everyone out on the street’s talking about how that guy’s got a few screws loose upstairs, but he’s got energy like nobody’s business.”

“I’ve heard he’s out there causing a ruckus every other day, especially when he’s ’looking after’ those beggar gangs. He’s quick to toss them into jail for the slightest thing. Even if he spots some kid helping their folks set up a stall, he’d charge right in and interrogate ‘em all day long—heck, even the beggars are sick of his antics.”

Thales’ breath started racing as he slowly turned his head.

Kohen stood there in a daze, taking in Morteza’s words.

“There’ve been a few crews lookin’ to give him a taste of their fists, but that cop punk… damn, he’s a scrapper. He’s taken a beating more times than I’ve had hot dinners, walkin’ around with a busted nose, swollen face, and blood all over, but he struts around the streets like nothing happened.”

Morteza couldn’t help but snort and shake his head,

“Some people even thought they could play politics within cops’ ranks, smearing his name, slipping him dirty money, you know, the works. But damn, that little punk, his brain’s probably fried; he’s a total dumbass, can’t get anything through that thick skull of his.”

“Over the past few years, he’s been bitched at, chewed out, disciplined, benched, and locked up God-knows-how-many times, but does he ever wise up? Hell no! Soon as he’s back on the clock, he’s tearing up the streets, causing all sorts of mayhem!”

“I heard a couple of crews lost their marbles and decided they wanted to take him out for good, but guess what? Nothing happened. My guess is they got a reality check—come on, who’s fooling who? Talking about taking down a cop in plain sight in Eternal Star City? You really think the police station is a bunch of pansies?”

Morteza chuckled while he talked, as if he were sharing a funny story after a meal.

Glover looked at Kohen in astonishment, while Layork frowned deeply.

But Kohen just stared at Morteza, looking lost for a moment, his breathing all over the place. Thales had to give his arm a little bump to bring him back.

“A few years down the line, the Brotherhood’s little lackeys—those eight or nine gangs stuck babysitting the beggars—are practically at their wits’ end. Each one’s moaning and groaning that they can’t even make a decent buck out on the streets, let alone line their pockets.”

Kohen swallowed hard, like he was trying to force down a gulp of saliva.

“These sorts of crews are either falling apart ‘cause they can’t even afford a meal, or they end up in that dumbass cop’s grip, locked up, or they switch to other lines of work: playing escort for out-of-towners over at the Western City Gate, or keeping an eye on johns and milking “em dry on Red Street Market. Ain’t that a sweeter deal than raising runts, panhandling, putting on a show, doing odd jobs, and just goin’ wherever the wind blows?”

Thales didn’t utter a word; he just stood there and took a deep breath of air.

“So now…”

It was Kohen who spoke up, his lips shaking, his voice tense,

“Right now…”

“Yeah,” Morteza’s tone grew downcast,

“Now, with all these streets around, ain’t nobody dumb enough to bother raising beggars that ain’t gonna fetch nothin’—at least, as far as I know, thanks to that dumbass cop.”

“The beggars you run into nowadays are either running around the streets on their own or helping out at home. Just gotta watch your back, in case that dumbass officer decides to hit the streets again—hey, pal, what’s eatin’ ya? Why the waterworks?”

Morteza looked at Kohen’s chest heaving with suspicion, unsure of what to make of it.

Kohen closed his eyes and gave a little wave of his hand.

He turned his head to the side, hiding his face from view, and his shoulders shook slightly.

“It’s nothing,” Thales said calmly, though his emotions were conflicted,

“He has a friend who also got messed up by that dumbass cop, so he’s feeling a bit worked up.” Kohen buried his face in his sleeve, nodding in acceptance.

Glover handed over a handkerchief without a word, which Kohen grabbed and immediately started blowing his nose.

Morteza made a face like he was looking at a simpleton, his brows furrowing as he kept his eyes on Kohen.

“Wait.’

Layork chimed in with a hint of frustration.

“If the Brotherhood isn’t looking after beggars anymore, what about our street intel? What about getting new blood?”

Morteza gave a soft chuckle.

“Who knows, but when things come up, they sort of sneak some money to the beggars to get them to do odd jobs—running errands, keeping watch, shaking down, passing messages, and stuff like that…”

Morteza kept talking, a flicker of annoyance on his face,

“Yeah, you know, these past few years, you’ve snagged a good chunk of territory from the Blood Bottle Gang. And now you’re stretched thin dealing with protection payments in these new areas. Ain’t nobody got time to worry ‘bout beggars no more…”

“Back in the day, the Brotherhood was getting pushed around by the Blood Bottle Gang, couldn’t even hold our heads up high. But look at you now, Mr. Big Shot Layork, scaring the crap out of those Red Bandanas. People are practically lining up to join the Brotherhood!” Morteza’s laughter echoed, a mix of bitterness and resignation.

“Who the hell would even bother with has-beens like us—who the hell gives a damn anymore?” The air filled with Morteza’s wild laughter, while Layork stayed quiet, not saying a word for a good while.

After Morteza had his fill of laughter, he quieted down,

“Now, anybody still got questions?”

Kohen was still rubbing his face. Glover twitched the corners of his mouth indifferently.

Thales looked away from his sleeve, and no word left his lips.

Layork gazed at him intently and shook his head.

“Alright then.” Morteza strained to bow, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me. gents.”

With that, he turned around and limped in the same direction Behrs had taken.

Layork silently watched his back as he walked away, his eyes fixed on the empty sleeve.

“You’re not gonna head to the Sixth House?” The Silent Assassin suddenly spoke up. “At least go get our pots and bowls back.”

Morteza didn’t even bother turning his head, letting out a sarcastic chuckle.

“The guys staying there are another bunch of washed-up Brotherhood thugs, even though they’re either crippled or sick.” Morteza tapped his own missing arm, his voice sounding downcast, “But still, there’s a bunch of ’em.”

Layork shuddered slightly.

Morteza’s footsteps grew fainter as he walked away.

“Morteza, wait up!”

Layork let out a sigh and walked up, handing over a bag of coins,

“Listen, Boss Morris just happens to need—”

Morteza took the bag of coins without thinking.

But within a few seconds, his expression went from surprise to anger, then embarrassed, and finally turned into a nasty snarl.

“Morris Morris Morris!”

“Can you stop freakin’ obsessing over someone else’s name all the damn time? You’re a grown man!”

Morteza’s eyes were bloodshot, and he angrily threw the bag of coins aside, yelling,

“And he ain’t your damn daddy either!”

Morteza’s explosive reaction caught everyone by surprise.

Layork stared at the bag on the floor, took a deep breath, and said, “Look, Boss Morris, he ain’t like Roda…”

“Ain’t like? Ain’t like your fucking ass!”

Morteza roared,

“I don’t need your pity! Scraml”

With a fiery display of anger, one of the former Thirteen Generals dragged his battered body away, leaving unsteadily.

“So, this is what they mean by ‘it comes back around’,” Glover mused, his mind drifting to something else as he watched Morteza walk away. He said, almost to himself,“All that pride, it’s just for show.”

Kohen whimpered, keeping half his face hidden in his sleeve,

“Well, you know, I… I actually kinda think… he’s not that bad of a guy… sniff…”

Only Layork didn’t say a word, watching from afar as an old friend walked away, and then he closed his eyes.

Thales walked by his side, also watching Morteza’s hobbling steps. He shook his head and said, “That’s where he’s ended up. even as one of the Thirteen Generals.”

Thales continued, “If you ever end up like him…”

“What would you do?”

Layork opened his eyes, a hint of fierceness in them. “Don’t know.”

“But one thing’s damn sure: I ain’t gonna be licking some posh guy’s boots.”

Thales let out a light laugh.

But he quickly turned around and looked at the big, bawling oaf.

“So, Kohen.”

Thales gazed at the ruined building with a hint of nostalgia, at this place that had once been heavily guarded and mercilessly unforgiving,

“The Brotherhood… doesn’t have beggars anymore.”

The police officer shuddered.

Thales looked up. feeling for the first time that the sky over Eternal Star City wasn’t as grey

anymore,

“All thanks to some stubborn and foolish guy—a dumbass of a police officer.”

Kohen let out a heavy sob.

He dropped his arms and carelessly tossed the handkerchief back to Glover, who looked thoroughly disgusted.

“I don’t know, Your Highness, well, I mean,” Kohen’s eyes were bloodshot; he sniffled and said with genuine emotion, “Gosh!”

Thales laughed.

“Even though things were really complicated and felt like something out of a play, still… those beggars who managed to escape, the Town Hall coming to clear out the Abandoned Houses, and most importantly, you—yeah, your efforts, Kohen…”

Kohen took deep breaths, feeling his chest tighten and looking at the Prince with gratitude.

“They did actually bring about some changes.”

Thales stepped forward, his emotions overflowing,

“They do serve a purpose.”

“Even if it’s just… only one sword.”

Kohen swallowed hard, his throat sore, and feelings all over the place.

“I really don’t know, Your Highness; I just don’t know…”

He buried his face in his hands once again.

Glover let out a sigh and pulled out another clean handkerchief.

“Do you remember, Kohen,” Thales could understand how the police officer might be feeling at the moment, but he himself was starting to drift away,

“What we did six years ago in the Heroic Spirit Palace?”

Kohen looked up, puzzled.

“You said that I saved the world.”

Thales said softly, as if he were taken back to that winter six years ago,

“At the time, I didn’t really get it, but…”

“Just like you said, our all-out efforts in the Heroic Spirit Palace seemed so insignificant, so small…”

Thales took a deep breath, turned around to face the way he had come, and took a step forward.

“But for those who might get caught up in a future war…”

“Our efforts…”

“Did indeed save the world.”

Thales walked past everyone, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth where no one could see it.

“Thank you, Kohen.”

Glover followed Thales, giving Kohen, who was utterly dazed, a nudge.

“No, no, 1 didn’t do anything,” Kohen came to his senses, rushing to catch up and tossing the second handkerchief to Zombie,

“I’m just very slow in the head; there are a lot of things I don’t understand…”

“No, Kohen,” Thales said decisively, leading the way towards the exit of the Abandoned Houses where there were no longer any iron locks blocking the door, “only slow-witted fools.”

“Can become heroes.”

Kohen hesitated for a moment.

And right at that moment…

“Bold words,” Layork straightened up, picking up the bag of coins that Morteza had thrown away, and said in a cold tone,

“Even if the Brotherhood doesn’t give a damn, you think these beggars on the street will just magically sort themselves out?”

“Their situation’s only gonna get worse.”

Layork held onto the money pouch tightly, a trace of pain appearing on his face,

“In the end. it’s gonna be the same old story, ending up like us.”

“Y’all are still a long way from making it.”

Kohen wrinkled his brows.

Glover let out a small snort, gestured in Morteza’s direction with his chin,

“Why don’t you worry a bit more about yourself, sorting out how not to turn into—the next him?” Layork’s arm muscles tensed up.

“You’re right,” Thales suddenly said, taking over the conversation.

“We’re still nowhere close to what we’d call success—the Lower City is still in chaos, the Kingdom is still shrouded in darkness, society is still unfair as ever, and we’re still battling against those… enemies that cannot be killed.”

Glover looked at the Prince, confused by his sudden change in tone.

Thales’ expression turned sombre,

“Truth is, we might never really get there—no matter how hard we push, no matter if we give it our all throughout our lifetimes, or even if generations down the line continue our effort for thousands of years. Success might just stay out of reach.”

Layork let out a cold, humourless laugh.

But Kohen was the one who replied.

‘But so what?

Everyone turned their heads together, giving a strange look to the officer who had just spoken up.

“We’re not going to succeed—and that’s exactly the heart of this matter, isn’t it?”

Glover froze, and Layork furrowed his brow.

“It’s like this,” Kohen said with a far-off look, his fist tightly clenched, “the real meaning comes from sticking with it.”

“Precisely because it’s not an easy task.”

He realised what he said, raised his head in embarrassment, and carefully checked the reactions of the others,

“Don’t you think?”

Layork’s brow creased even more.

But Thales broke into a smile.

A hearty and genuine smile.

“Nicely put, Kohen,” Thales remarked.

“Do you know who the greatest knight in the world is?” he mused.

“Huh?” Kohen’s face soured, as thrilled as a student facing a tricky history question. He scratched his head and said, “Back when I was a kid, my old man and teacher would go on about the Ten Great Knights in the history of the Empire… but I… I sorta remember there was this knight called Needham…?”

Thales shook his head.

“No.”

“The greatest knight in the world,” Thales said softly, captivating everyone’s attention, even Layork’s.

“Goes by this name…”

Thales closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly opened his eyes, pulling that legendary name from the distant corners of his memory, “Don Quixote.”

In that quick moment, everyone just stood there, utterly perplexed, their expressions frozen.

Thales, though, kept on smiling.

“Um… I wasn’t that great with my studies when I was a kid. May I ask, who’s he?” Kohen asked carefully.

Thales stilled for a moment.

“A knight, someone who goes after the most impossible goals and charges ahead no matter what.” Both Glover and Kohen were equally stunned.

The Prince raised his head, a distant look in his eyes,

“But he keeps on going.”

“Even if he…”

“Never actually makes it.”

The very next second, Layork suddenly took a deep breath!

He whirled around and tossed the bag of coins he was holding towards the area where the most homeless people were gathered!

Thales and the others were all caught off guard.

“Got something else to do,” Layork said amidst the jingle of coins hitting the ground and the chaos of people scrambling to grab them. He didn’t bother to look back as he parted ways with them,“You guys go do your thing. The Brotherhood gave you the nod; no one’s gonna mess with you.” Thales raised an eyebrow, “That’s not the way out.”

“I know,” Layork replied in a frosty tone, giving them nothing more than his back walking away in the distance.

But Thales cracked a smile.

He knew—that was the way to the Sixth House.

“He’s mad?” Kohen asked carefully as he wiped the last tear from the corner of his eye.

“No,” Thales said, shaking his head.

“Just lost.”

‘Ah?’

Kohen looked at Layork in the distance, rubbing the back of his head in puzzlement.

“Should we stay close to him, Your Highness? It will be safer with him around,” Glover said cautiously, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

“No,” Thales said, suddenly feeling a rush of freedom. He looked at the road that was once so familiar,

“We’re not turning back.”

Glover suddenly had an uneasy feeling.

“So where arc we going?” Kohen asked with a baffled look, “I’d suggest the Western City Police Station…”

Thales shook his head, his gaze unwavering, “The Renaissance Palace.”

Glover’s eyebrows went all the way up, “To… do what?”

Thales stopped in his tracks, turned to face one direction, and gazed straight towards the horizon.

Glover’s heart skipped a beat.

He knew—that was the way to the Renaissance Palace.

Thales took a deep breath, letting it out slowly,

“Charge.”

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