The Traitor in Search of Tomorrow

The sky was clear with just a few scattered clouds. A gentle breeze rustled through the dense leaves of the forest trees, keeping the air cool despite the sun’s rays trying to pierce through the cover above.

A chorus of growls echoed. Packs of forest wolves—each moving in threes—tried to assert their dominance over a lone man, his sword slick with blood.

One of the wolves already lay lifeless on the ground, a clean stab wound through its throat. Its remaining packmates stood their ground, poised to avenge it.

The man’s challenging gaze finally provoked one of the two to charge. With practiced ease, he sidestepped the lunge, his sword flashing as he aimed for the beast’s neck—only to be forced back by the second wolf leaping to its comrade’s defense.

The pair grew bolder, emboldened by their teamwork that managed to stall the man’s advance. But before they could press their attack, a small explosion erupted before them.

The sudden burst of fire stole their attention just long enough. In that brief moment, Ayato drove his blade into the first wolf’s throat.

Realizing its partner had been slain, the last wolf lunged at Ayato with vicious speed. His sword was still buried in its comrade, leaving him seemingly defenseless. The monster’s maw curled into a savage grin—only to snap shut as a dagger tore clean through its throat.

Ayato slit its neck to ensure it would never move again, then wiped his blade before gathering the corpses. He bundled them into a net, making it easier to haul them to a safer spot for dissection.

Back at his makeshift camp, Ayato began carving open the wolves. From each chest, he retrieved a glowing magic stone that had taken the place of a heart. This, after all, was the true distinction between beast and monster—alongside their unnaturally vicious forms.

The stones he collected would fetch a modest price, far less than the market value, since he had to sell them through the slums. Even so, it was enough to keep him afloat in the city—especially since much of his guard salary had already been sunk into survival gear.

Once he gathered all the valuable parts, Ayato covered the remains with soil as best he could, then set out on his journey back toward Lunareth.

...

Two weeks had passed since the day I left the mansion, huh…

As the sky turned orange, Ayato’s steps carried him onto the worn soil of Lunareth’s slums. His cloak was tattered, and even the mask he wore to hide his face still bore faint stains of blood.

Inside, he still couldn’t quite believe it—how drastically his life had changed since that fateful act to protect Selphira Lunareth’s life.

Countless curses had left his lips in those first few days after being cast out. He had made his choice fully aware of the consequences, yet as a human, there was no way to completely silence the bitterness festering within.

He had fought so hard, at the very least, to save Selphira Lunareth’s life. And yet, that very deed had forced Lunareth to face a new crisis—one perhaps far more terrifying than the death of a single noble daughter.

Still, deep inside, he had hoped for someone—anyone—to support his decision. But there was none. Every gaze branded him a damned traitor.

Before the hatred around him could claim his life, Ayato left that very day. He abandoned everything that marked him as her personal guard and left behind only a single letter—for the one companion he treasured. Whether it would ever reach them, or end up discarded as meaningless scribbles, he did not know. For a moment, the thought of the worst outcome crossed his mind—

“Ah! Bin-oniichan’s here!”

A child’s voice rang out in delight, calling out the new name Ayato had crafted for himself.

“Onii-san’s here! Everyone, line up!”

“Yes, onee-chan!”

A young girl gave the command, and the other children quickly lined up with surprising orderliness.

Her name was Faaja—the same girl Ayato had once saved from thugs months ago. Her body, once gaunt and covered in wounds, now looked healthier, fuller.

The lively Faaja now led the slum children here in this hidden hideout, their little sanctuary.

“Hey, Bin-oniichan! What are we eating today?”

“That thing you’re carrying on your back, that’s meat, isn’t it?!”

“Hey, quiet down, you all! …Good. Remember, before asking for food, you have to—”

“Share information!”

Her cheeks puffed in mock frustration at being interrupted, but in the end, Faaja laughed with them. Their energy was too infectious.

Ayato watched the scene with empty eyes. Regret still lingered in his expression, but he steeled himself and pressed on.

The children reported bits of information from the main district: patrol numbers, market conditions, rumors, and even trivial gossip.

Ayato listened carefully, rewarding each report with food or coin. However small the intel, he gave something in return—except when it was pure nonsense, like “I can touch my nose with my tongue!”

After the day’s briefing ended, Ayato was about to leave, but Faaja tugged at his cloak. Instinctively, he almost drew his sword.

“Ah, sorry!”

“What is it?”

“Um… just for today, will you eat with us?”

“Eat… together?”

“Yes! Let’s eat together, Bin-oniichan!”

“Come on, Bin-oniichan, join us! Please, please!”

“T-today we actually have high-grade Fenlareth Wolf meat… we could prepare it and share it together…”

Though Faaja spoke shyly, the other children’s eyes sparkled with anticipation.

Wolf meat wasn’t usually tasty. But the wolves of Fenlareth were different—their meat rivaled wagyu when cooked properly. To most, it was an extreme food, too “monstrous” to eat. But to slum dwellers, nothing was extreme, not when survival was on the line.

Ayato let out a long sigh at their expectant gazes.

“…Alright. Just for today.”

“Really?! Yay!!”

“Yahoo! This is the best, Faaja-oneechan!”

“Yeah!”

They leapt with joy, hands linked, celebrating his promise to join the meal.

In his heart, Ayato still couldn’t believe it—that his small act of charity had created something that felt like family among these children. The warmth of it all threatened to melt something deep inside him. But at the same time, he tried to smother that feeling, lest it open his heart to wounds that could never heal.

Yet one thing was certain: that night’s meal tasted like the sweetest feast Ayato had ever known.

...

About a week ago.

A woman in a guard’s uniform walked down the mansion corridor.

Her steps were firm, until she stopped before a door—the entrance to the room once occupied by the man now branded the greatest traitor in all of Lunareth.

Her eyes burned with anger, yet beneath that anger lingered memories too precious to erase.

Kaelyn shook her head before opening the door.

The room was neatly kept, and on the bed lay a folded personal guard’s uniform—alongside a single letter.

Back when she was still recovering, a servant had told her about Ayato’s abandoned room. Kaelyn had requested it be left untouched until she herself could see it.

Now that day had come, and the letter rested in her hand.

At first her heart flared with rage, but the moment her eyes traced the ugly scrawl across the paper, she bit her lip—fighting back the tears threatening to fall.

“I leave her heart to you.”

That single line brought back the memory of their last conversation, back when they rested together in the mansion corridor.

Kaelyn stood in silence, her heart still in turmoil. Yet in time, that turmoil would forge the strength she needed—to carry the baton passed down by her former comrade.

“…Leave it to me.”

...

Several days had passed since the children of the slums held their dinner feast.

Ayato was just returning from a hunt in the forest. This time, however, he brought back no meat—the monsters he encountered had all been of the insect type.

Truth be told, his visits to their hidden base had never been scheduled. Even so, Ayato was often struck by how seriously those children lived.

Though most of them were thieves or beggars, it was never by choice. Circumstances had forced their hands, pushing them to survive however they could.

Then Ayato came, offering a different way to endure—through wages of coin and food. To those who had known only scraps scavenged from refuse and muddy water to quench their thirst, Ayato’s presence was nothing short of salvation.

Even if he never gave anything for free, the opportunities he provided were more than enough for those children.

Ayato’s heart, however, was filled with dilemma. He did not wish to be bound to them, yet at the same time, he felt as though no one else could take on such a role.

But fear haunted his choice. What he believed was right might not be seen the same way by others.

His weary steps carried him back to the city only after night had fallen. Breaking into a run, he slipped through the alleys, heading toward an illicit trader to sell the materials he’d gathered in the forest.

“Hm?”

A figure cloaked in deep blue suddenly halted in front of him.

The hood concealed their face, and in the dim light, Ayato couldn’t make out any features.

But when the figure lowered the hood, Ayato froze—

“Y-You… Aurellia Kraise?!”

****

Welp, he met her again? Why is she still there anyway, after destroying his sweet life?