Korran led Eamon, Damien, and Skarn through the narrow streets of Misticula. The town, once lively and full of chatter, now seemed lifeless. The people moved quickly, avoiding eye contact, and the few shopkeepers who remained open whispered nervously among themselves.
Finally, Korran stopped near a cluster of old, crumbling buildings at the edge of town. "We can stay here," he said softly, pointing toward a half-collapsed warehouse. "Nobody comes here anymore."
The place smelled of dust and damp wood, but it was hidden enough to keep them safe. Eamon nodded approvingly. "Good choice, Korran. We'll set up here for now."
He turned to Damien. "You stay with Korran. Keep an eye on him and Skarn. I'll go look around and see what we're up against."
Damien frowned. "You're going alone?"
"I'll be fine," Eamon assured him with a grin. "I'm just gathering information. If anyone asks, I'm just another traveler."
Damien sighed but nodded. "Fine. Just… be careful. This place doesn't feel right."
Eamon gave a reassuring nod and slipped out into the street, pulling his cloak tighter.
He spent the next few hours walking through the market streets and tavern alleys, asking questions with caution. Some people refused to speak, shaking their heads in fear whenever he mentioned Gorochi's name. But slowly, Eamon pieced things together.
Gorochi's castle stood on the eastern hill, towering above the rest of the town like a dark shadow. His personal fortress was said to be filled with soldiers—fanatically loyal to him.
But the prison was what caught Eamon's attention. It was a massive stone manor, nearly ten floors high, built in the heart of the town's old district. The locals said it used to be a noble's mansion before Gorochi turned it into his private dungeon.
And that was where Felis and Orzen were held—on the topmost floor.
A hundred guards watched the place day and night. No one had ever escaped from there.
Eamon took a deep breath as he stared at the distant silhouette of the prison from an alley. "A hundred guards, a fortress of stone, and the prisoners are on the tenth floor," he muttered under his breath. "This won't be easy."
Still, he needed more. He needed to understand what kind of man Gorochi was dealing with—and who could be guarding his right hand.
Later that afternoon, Eamon's stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day. He spotted a small restaurant at the corner of a busy street. Its signboard creaked as the wind blew, but the smell of roasted meat and stew filled the air.
"Maybe I can learn something here," he thought.
He walked inside. The place was noisy and packed with people. The owner, a round man with a friendly smile, waved him toward an empty chair at a crowded table.
"Sit here, traveler," the owner said. "Food's cheap if you don't mind sharing space."
Eamon nodded and took a seat at the edge of the table. Four men were already sitting there, drinking ale and talking in hushed but agitated voices.
At first, Eamon wasn't paying much attention—until he caught the name "Felis."
One of the men leaned in. "Do you really think that teacher stole the pearl?"
The second man nodded. "He confessed in front of everyone, didn't he? It must be true."
The third man frowned. "You don't know what greed can do to a man. Felis was respected once, but maybe the temptation of the goddess's pearl was too strong."
The fourth man shivered. "If the pearl isn't found soon, we're doomed. The goddess has already killed so many. I heard it's over thirty people now."
Eamon's eyes narrowed. He said nothing, just listening as the men continued.
The first man sighed. "You think Gorochi can protect us from her wrath?"
The third scoffed. "Protect us? He's the one who brought all this misery. Even if he didn't steal the pearl himself, he's a tyrant. He's been tormenting this town for years."
The second man lowered his voice. "I thought Felis's protest might finally end his rule, but it all went wrong. After the confession… everyone turned against him."
The fourth man stared into his mug. "Even if we had protested harder, we could never have defeated Gorochi. Not with Haizer around."
That caught Eamon's attention. He leaned slightly forward. "Excuse me for interrupting," he said politely. "But… who is Haizer?"
The men turned to look at him. The first one squinted. "You must be new to town."
Eamon nodded. "Yes. I'm an adventurer passing through."
"Oh, that explains it," the man said, relaxing slightly. "Haizer is Gorochi's right-hand man. A water mage, and not just any mage—one of the strongest in this part of Aldoria. Some say he was an adventurer before working under Gorochi."
The second man chimed in. "He's cruel. Loves inflicting pain. They say when Gorochi punishes people, it's Haizer who carries out the sentence."
The third shook his head. "No one in this town can stand against him. Not unless you're a royal knight or someone above—or a Rank 1 adventurer.
Eamon nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Sounds like a dangerous man."
"That's putting it lightly," the fourth muttered. "If you're smart, traveler, you'll stay out of this mess."
Eamon offered a polite smile and thanked them for the meal and conversation. As he left the restaurant, his mind was already forming plans.
"Haizer… so he's the real threat," he murmured under his breath. "A hundred guards I can handle, but a mage like that? That's trouble."
Evening came by the time Eamon returned to the abandoned corner where he'd left the others. The air had grown cooler, and the faint orange glow of lanterns filled the streets.
He ducked through the broken wooden doorway and saw Korran and Skarn sitting quietly near a small fire while Damien sharpened his sword.
"Finally," Damien said as Eamon entered. "I was starting to think you got yourself thrown in prison already."
Eamon tossed a small cloth bundle toward him. "Relax. I brought food."
Damien grinned. "Now that's the Eamon I know."
They all ate quietly for a while, the silence broken only by the crackling of the fire. Afterward, Eamon gestured for Damien to step outside.
"What did you find?" Damien asked once they were alone.
Eamon told him everything—the location of the castle, the heavily guarded prison, and the conversation he overheard at the restaurant.
Damien's brow furrowed. "More than a hundred guards protecting the prison?"
"Yes," Eamon said. "And this Haizer guy… he sounds like someone we can't underestimate."
"That's an understatement," Damien muttered. "If he's really as strong as they say, even getting close to that prison will be suicide."
Eamon sighed. "I know. But we'll figure something out. We've faced worse."
Damien raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, but this time the stakes are different. We are not here to not just defeat some bad guy like Winston; we are here to save people while defeating the bad guys."
Eamon chuckled softly. "Yes yes, I know all that. But we'll figure it out. I thought we could break into the prison, but today almost all the guards are in the prison along with Gorochi and Haizer. So, it's impossible tonight. So, let's think tomorrow."
Damien shook his head, smiling faintly. "You're impossible."
They went back and Eamon took out a tent from his dimensional pocket ring. Eamon and Damien then set up the tent. Korran, exhausted from the day, soon fell asleep beside Skarn.
Eamon and Damien stayed awake for a while, watching the flickering fire. "We'll take turns keeping watch," Eamon said quietly.
"Got it," Damien replied. "I'll take first shift."
Eamon lay back on the hard ground, staring up through a hole in the roof where a few stars peeked through.
He could feel the unease creeping in again—the thought of a hundred guards, the execution in two days, and the mysterious mage named Haizer waiting for them.
But then he thought of Korran's tearful face, the boy's courage despite everything he'd lost.
He clenched his fist. "We'll save them," he whispered to himself.
Outside, the night deepened, the wind howled through the broken walls, and Misticula slept under a blanket of fear.
The day after tomorrow was the day of Orzen and Felis's execution.