Chapter 17 — You Won’t See Spring

Little by little, Gaius’s transformation unraveled, and he returned to his usual half-human form.

He spat blood toward Ren’s boots, splattering them red.

“Deep winter? Don’t make me laugh…”

Ren stepped closer, not visibly upset.

“Whatever you say.”

“Now… I’m waiting for you to apologize to my master.”

Gaius let out a harsh, ragged laugh.

“You’re insane. I don’t regret a thing.”

“Your master is a filthy drunk.”

“A whore with bad company.”

“That’s why she got kicked out of the Solmara Legion.”

“A damn deserter…” he spat, trying to stand.

Ren took one step forward—and with a single strike of the shovel, snapped his leg.

Gaius collapsed to his knees, screaming.

“I didn’t give you permission to stand,” Ren said, voice dry.

“Aghhh! You little brat!”

“What do you want?”

“First… an apology to my master.”

“Then, information.”

“I want everything on Monteverde—who protects him, who funds him, who’s really behind the slave trade, and how the Adventurers’ Guild is involved.”

“I don’t owe you anything…”

“I see…”

“You’re not afraid of me, because to you I’m just some ordinary teenager.”

“Even after everything I’ve done to you, you refuse to see reality.”

“Reality…?” Gaius muttered, confused.

Ren pulled a mask from his pocket.

When he put it on, something in the air shifted. The cold deepened until every breath stabbed Gaius’s lungs like needles.

“So you’re the one who killed Roman…”

“I’d say he just paid for his greed. Your friend Roman reveled in his impunity.”

“And Monteverde… is next.”

“Hahaha… who do you think you are?”

“What right do you have to judge anyone?”

“You think you’re some kind of ‘divine judge’?” Gaius sneered.

“I get that a mind as small as yours can’t see past its nose… but don’t worry.”

“You won’t see spring after winter.”

“Alright, alright… there’s a limit, Sinclair. I’m sorry for what I said about your master.”

Ren tilted his head, curious.

“You know what I think, Gaius? You’re not being honest.”

“I’m just a pawn. If you want info on Monteverde… I can give it to you.”

(…)

“What I want to know is: who’s above Monteverde?”

Gaius finally let himself drop, sitting on the ground like an empty sack.

“I don’t know his name… but there are two major buyers.”

“One’s a noble from Solmara. Some of his close friends say it might even be… the king.”

“All I know is they buy powerful demi-humans.”

“I see… Pawns for the army or labor for the mines. Doesn’t surprise me coming from Solmara,” Ren murmured, connecting the dots.

“The other buyer comes from Yukihana. I can tell because they always send white carriages.”

“Yukihana?”
“Why would an imperial nation need slaves?”

Gaius smiled.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Yukihana isn’t an empire anymore. Your friend Aseina was banished… after they imposed a Shogunate.”

“I don’t know the full details, but I do know they’ve created a weapon—one that can sink ships with a single shot.”

“That’s why they buy slaves with excess mana. It must have something to do with that thing.”

“I see… A lot has changed in these times,” Ren murmured to himself.

Then he raised his head and faced Gaius directly.

“That’s all.” His katana shimmered into existence in his hand.

“W–wait, wait! I have more information!”
“The mansion’s defenses, the personal guards, contacts—”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want, just don’t kill me!”

“I don’t need any more information. Everything else… I already knew.”

“But you still owe my master a sincere apology.”

“Ada Schubert once lost her way… because she couldn’t stand the corruption of power. Of despicable nobles like Monteverde.”

The memory flashed through Ren’s mind…
A five-year-old girl, crying, clutching a worn stuffed bear… walking away from a house swallowed by flames.

“Because a greedy man stole her entire family, her childhood…”

“Could you live with that, Gaius?” Ren’s voice hardened, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m sorry! I regret ever disrespecting your master!”

Ren opened a dark rift with a single stroke of his katana and stepped through without haste.

Gaius’s face lit up with relief, as if he truly believed his desperate bargaining had saved his life.

At that moment, a black lotus bloomed from his chest.

“What… what is this?” he stammered, visibly shaken.

From the other side of the portal, Ren glanced back at him one final time.

“I told you… you’d never see the spring again.”

“Damn you! I’ll see you in hell!”

With a sharp snap, Ren closed his blade.

“Silent Winter.”

The room went utterly still.

Before the portal vanished, frost swept across every surface, smothering the last ember of Gaius’s life.

It was already well into the night, yet the chief editor of The Night Crow worked tirelessly, alone in the dimness of his publishing office, lit only by a few weary candles.

James Morgan—better known as Crow—was a solitary man who had lost everything… everything but his devotion to the truth.

But he wasn’t foolish enough to put his own head on the chopping block.

Reports on deaths linked to black lotuses were piled high on his desk.

The Phantom of the Opera, as he called the killer—named for his calling card and theatrical style.

“This silent assassin keeps appearing in reports…” Crow murmured, holding up wanted posters with the victims’ faces. “The strange thing is, every single one of them… was knee-deep in shady business.”

Then his eyes shifted to the headline for the paper scheduled to go out that night:

“The Phantom of the Opera… Hero or Villain?”

“An interesting headline, Mr. Crow…” a woman’s voice whispered.

A gentle breeze carrying the scent of roses swept through the room, snuffing out the candles.

Only the moonlight remained to illuminate the office.

“Who’s there?” the man asked, his voice tinged with unease.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Light just… doesn’t suit me very well.”
“I prefer the dark,” she replied in a playful tone.

“Killing me wouldn’t do you any good. I’m just a second-rate editor.”

“Fufufu… how charming.”

“I’m only here to leave you with a better headline for your paper—one that will put you ahead of your competition.”

The shadowy figure placed a placard on his desk.

The man took it cautiously and stepped toward the window. In the silver glow of the moon, he read the words:

“The whole truth will be revealed. The end of Monteverde’s tyranny.”

“Monteverde’s next…?”

“That’s right. The next name on an endless list of the corrupt.”

“And why give this information to me?”

‘He’ believes you’re an honest man. You’ve simply had a bit of… unfair competition in your field.”

The man stared into the darkness, still doubtful.

“You think you can buy me with this?”

“Do you think he wants your pen?”
“No. He doesn’t need to persuade anyone.”
“He only wants you to keep writing… the truth.”

“And now… you have our protection. Don’t be afraid to tell it.”

The voice faded into the air.

“Wait! You never said his name!”

Nothing.
Only silence.

“Damn it…” he muttered, relighting a candle.
“This is big news. Urus is about to change.”
“I need to inform the Adventurers’ Guild… the authorities!”
“Damn, I’ve only got a few hours left to get this to print.”
“So much to do and so little time!”

While the editor wrestled with his growing anxiety… from the rooftop of a nearby house, Diana watched him quietly.

“It’s done. Now we just wait to see what happens tomorrow… with Monteverde’s execution.”

“I hope the Master knows what he’s doing.”

And with that, she vanished into the shadows, beneath the light of a full moon.