Raven's eyes snapped open in the master bedroom. His hand went to his throat before he even thought about it.

"A single misstep was all he needed…" he murmured, fingers pressing the unmarked skin. "As expected of a veteran knight."

The memory of the blue-skinned warrior in the illusion world still burned behind his eyes. Compared to that knight, he was still an amateur.

He exhaled once, and a ripple of darkness swallowed him as he cast the [Shadow Teleportation] spell, disappearing.

A heartbeat later, he stood in the underground training basement. The stone walls were cool and silent, broken only by the faint water drip somewhere in the dark.

Raven closed his eyes again and let the duel replay in his mind. His body began to move on its own—feet sliding, spear cutting invisible arcs through the air. Each motion echoed the blue-skinned knight's attacks: the deceptive feints, the pivot turns, the sudden lunges.

He corrected every mistake, adjusting his grip, altering the timing of his thrusts, shifting his stance an inch at a time.

Sweat slicked his palms as the hours bled away.

When he stopped, his chest rose and fell like a bellows. Yet there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.

'My progression in intermediate spearmanship has risen from 3% to 4.5%.'

A small leap—but a real one.

Mental exhaustion seeped in like a tide. He stored the spear, wiped his hands on a towel, and shadow-stepped back to his room.

Warm water splashed over his face; the scent of soap grounded him. Moments later, he collapsed onto the bed.

[What's your plan next, lad?] Zera's voice brushed across his mind, dry and curious.

'Hmm… I want to stay here and focus on spearmanship,' Raven answered silently.

[Don't forget you have to return to your territory sooner.]

He shook his head against the pillow.

'Rebecca needs to manage the territory even when I'm absent for too long.' He drew a slow breath. 'Once the war starts, I'll be on the front lines for years. During that time, someone has to hold the reins in my stead. Unlike other houses, the Holmes line has no one left. I have no choice but to rely on my trusted subordinates.'

[True.] Zera's agreement rumbled faintly in the back of his skull.

Exhaustion crept over him in earnest, sinking into his muscles and mind. Raven's eyelids fluttered shut.

…

October 20th – 7:00 A.M.

Territory of Arcturus – Reme City

Arcturus was not just another province. It was the Empire's spear arm: a dukedom ruled by Joshua Arcturus, famed for its knights and cavalry. Honor and loyalty were their lifeblood, passed down through generations of riders and lancers.

Reme City was one of the six main cities of the Aracturus and had a population of 200,000!

The morning fog clung low to the cobblestones of Dusk Street.

A small blonde girl, no taller than 134 cm, stepped out of the single-story house with her satchel bouncing at her side.

"I'm off to school, Mom!" she called over her shoulder.

Mary, a blonde woman in her late thirties, stood in the doorway of the small rented house and waved until her daughter's figure dissolved into the mist.

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"Be safe, Betty," she called softly.

The street fell silent. When she was sure her child was gone, Mary closed the door and leaned against it for a heartbeat. Only then did she turn back inside. She had an hour before work.

It wasn't an office job or anything that paid well. She worked construction at the western gate, hauling and mixing stone and mortar alongside men twice her size. The wages weren't much, but they were steady enough to keep Betty's school fees paid and food on the table.

Her husband had been stationed with the army for over a decade. In his absence, Mary and Betty had carved a routine out of the city's rough edges, counting the days between letters and visits. The house they lived in wasn't even theirs; it was just another rented room on another unguarded street.

So she saved. Every coin her husband sent home went straight into the bank. One day, she'd buy a small house on Merchant Street, where the guards patrolled every hour and the lamps burned bright through the night. Betty would be safe there.

With that picture in her mind, Mary tied her hair back, slipped on her worn gloves and heavy boots, and stepped into the cold morning. She walked quickly through the fog toward the western gate, where the scaffolds and piles of stone waited. By the time the sun burned through the mist, she was already at work, muscles straining, doing the hard labour that kept the city walls standing.

The day passed as usual—until it didn't.

Mary came home at six in the evening. The lock on the front door was still in its morning position!

Betty should have been home, or at least at a neighbour's kitchen table. She called down the street, asked the neighbour's children, and knocked on doors. Every reply was the same:

'No, haven't seen her today.'

Fifteen minutes later, Mary's unease had hardened into panic.

Finally, an old lady touched her shoulder and whispered,

"Go to the police, quick. With these child kidnappings… You know how Arcturus has been for years. No one lets kids out after six." The caring old lady had always helped her.

"I'll drop you at the station, Mary," Her husband tied the horse to the carriage and turned it to drive.

"For Divine sake, that horse is old and poor sight, Harry. He caused two accidents this week. If you end up harming Mary, I'll skin you alive."

Her husband shrank back and urged Mary to hop in before his wife changed her mind.

Mary didn't need telling twice. She hurried to the R-2 Police Station on the next street, skirts clutched in one hand.

As soon as she entered, she saw the station was busy as the voices of different complaints entered her ears.

"I saw it with my own eyes, Sir. Mark. That has to be a magical beast. Please inform the garrison to do a check in the Square woods…"

"I heard a clash between the Red Snake gang and the Rising Lions in the slums. Do you know anything about it, Head Constable?"

"Those thugs always clash over silly things, Sir George. But this time, things seem to have escalated. I heard from the informer that they plan to settle this once and for all outside the city."

"Haa! I hope they all kill each other and give us some peaceful time." George lamented and soon saw Mary walking towards him.

He was a solid man with a lined face, thick mustache, and looked around 40 years old.

"What happened, ma'am? Do you want to register a complaint?" He asked as he noticed the uneasiness on her face.

Mary nodded and told him that her daughter had been missing.

He listened without interrupting, then told a constable to call Detective John Wayne, the special investigator assigned to the string of child abductions and missing cases.

Within minutes, Wayne arrived—a lean, brown-haired man with grey eyes and the calm precision. Two uniformed constables fell in behind him.

"If this is the Mysterious Kidnapper case, we must stop him from leaving the city." He turned his gaze towards the sub-inspector and spoke.

"Mr. Benard, send our people to all four city gates and watch out for suspicious persons. If anyone tries to leave without showing proper ID, detain them. Sooner, the better."

"Yes, Detective." The sub-inspector nodded and left hurriedly.

"Mrs. Mary," Wayne said quietly, "we'll begin at once."

They piled into a waiting carriage bound for Reme Knight School, two streets away. George opened his notebook.

"Tell me about your daughter," he said. "When does she usually return from school?"

"By half past five," Mary answered. "Sometimes, a few minutes later, if she stays with her friend Anna."

"She has close friends? Anyone she visits often?"

"Anna from the bakery on Birch Street, and Tomas from the same class. Only those two."

"Any trouble at school? Anyone bothering her? Has she ever skipped classes without telling you?"

"No. She's… she's a good girl. She's never done that. Her teachers like her."

Wayne added a few more questions. "Does she carry anything valuable—a pendant, a purse of coins? Has she ever mentioned a strange man following her? Is there anyone new around the house or street?"

"Nothing," Mary said. "Only the usual walk to school and back."

The carriage jolted to a halt outside the tall gates of the Knight School. It was already seven in the evening; the last light slid behind the spires. The grounds were nearly empty except for the night watchman.

Wayne moved first. "Constables—now bring all her teachers here and her two friends. Knock on doors if you have to. This is urgent."

While they waited, he walked towards the watchman and started questioning. "Did you see Betty enter the school this morning?"

"Yes, sir," the man said. "She came in just before the first bell. Left in the evening with a boy her age."

Wayne's head snapped up. "A boy?"

"Never seen him before," the watchman said. "Thought he was a new transfer. Dark hair, smart uniform."

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