After laying Sherin down, Shan first lifted his skirt and untied the bundle strapped to his inner thigh. Then he added salt and sugar to the leather waterskin, shook it several times to mix them in, and trickled the water into her mouth.

"Ngh..."

Blood beaded at the corners of her parched, cracked lips as she forced them apart. Though she moaned at the pain of her splitting lips, she drank the water Shan offered like a fledgling being fed by its mother.

After wetting her throat several times, she split the bread he had brought in half, picked out only the soft insides, and chewed them carefully. It took tremendous patience to mash each mouthful almost to porridge before swallowing, so as not to strain a stomach that had gone without food for so long.

"Ah, I feel alive again... I really thought I was going to die."

Once her hunger and thirst had eased somewhat, Sherin spoke with tears welling in her eyes.

Shan had not realized it while communicating through the spider, but she seemed to have been pushed to the brink mentally as well. For all her pretense of maturity, she was only a girl in her mid-to-late teens. Not that Shan, a couple of years her junior, had any room to talk.

"Where is Sir Aran?"

Shan asked the question after peering inside the tower and finding no one but Sherin. He had deliberately refrained from asking after hearing of Kagon's death, but he had assumed Aran was with her.

"I sent Aran ahead to my uncle on my mother's side. I needed someone to contact him and ask for help while I escaped..."

Sherin added self-mockingly that she had made a fool of herself by failing to escape in the first place.

Shan nodded, then grimaced slightly.

"We should get out of here first."

A foul smell from deeper inside the tower assaulted his nose. She had been confined in an enclosed space for over a week; human bodily needs were unavoidable. Sherin, whose dulled sense of smell had kept her from noticing, flushed a little.

"Let's go into the palace. We have to go that way to escape anyway."

Shan slid his arms beneath her knees and back, carrying her out of the tower since she still had difficulty moving. A gust of chilly early-winter air blew over them, and he felt her trembling against him.

"It's cold..."

Sherin wriggled deeper into his warm embrace. Come to think of it, the hand he had held earlier had been as cold as ice. That was only natural after days locked in a little tower without so much as a fireplace at the start of winter. Fortunately, she had been caught on her way out, reasonably well bundled up for her escape. Had she been wearing a dress, she would have frozen to death long ago.

"Can we escape with you in this condition?"

Sherin, too, had disguised herself in something resembling a maid's uniform for her escape, but anyone would find it odd to see her being supported as she walked. Plenty of people would recognize her distinctive face, too.

She answered his concern with a faint smile.

"It's all right. I have a way... Let's get inside first."

The Blue Palace's interior was quite well maintained for a place that had stood uninhabited for well over a decade. Of course, the lack of residents meant the rooms were largely bare of furniture.

Following Sherin's directions, Shan soon entered an empty cellar that appeared to have been used for storage. In one corner stood a full-length mirror more than large enough to reflect an entire person. Sherin told him it was the entrance to a secret passage.

"I was caught trying to escape through here."

She recited a few words of an incantation. A blue vortex rippled within the great mirror, opening a passage. The way stretching beyond it was pitch-black, without a single light.

"Wow..."

"That's why I had you come in through another passage. Without magic, there's no way to open this one."

Sherin hastily added the explanation, perhaps worried he might complain that she had put him through unnecessary trouble by sending him another way.

Shan nodded and stepped into the exceedingly narrow secret passage with her in his arms. As soon as they had passed through, the entrance became a wall, as though it had sensed them.

"Hmm..."

They had walked perhaps a hundred and fifty meters down the passage. After several turns left and right, Shan let out a low groan. A stench much like the one in the tower had begun wafting toward him from ahead.

Overhead, light came through several holes, while water streamed along the side of the passage. It seemed to connect to a sewer beneath the privies. At one point, a heavy lump dropped from above, and he dodged it in alarm.

They soon reached the exit, which was likewise blocked by a mirror on the other side.

"Your Highness, we're at the exit."

He tapped her gently as he spoke. She groaned and reached toward the mirror. When she recited the same incantation as before, the mirror opened just as it had at the entrance, clearing the way.

* * *

"Whew..."

Once on the other side, Shan breathed a sigh of relief. There had been a few close calls along the way, but he had somehow managed to get Sherin out of the royal palace.

Of course, it was still too early to relax. Once the knight's body abandoned in the Blue Palace garden was discovered, an investigation would reveal that someone had escaped from confinement there. If possible, they needed to leave the capital before that happened.

"Where are we, exactly?"

"The Magic Society's cellar."

The cellar was utterly bare. All the mages had fled, and rioters had taken advantage of the collapse of public order to strip the place. Apparently, the magic mirror alone had resisted removal because it was fixed in place like part of the wall.

As they left the cellar, Shan stopped carrying Sherin and let her walk, supporting her from beside her instead. A woman carrying another woman on her back would be all too likely to draw attention.

Fortunately, though her legs trembled like a newborn fawn's, Sherin managed to walk on her own feet. Seeing her walking with Shan's help, people clicked their tongues, assuming some thugs must have hurt her.

They kept to the main streets, avoiding the small alleys, and soon the Wievers mansion came into view. The young kitchen assistant stood guard at the entrance, apparently having relieved the stablekeeper who had watched the house all night.

"Who's there—oh! Younger Master?"

Only when Shan stepped inside and removed his wig did the kitchen assistant recognize him. Startled, he lowered his club. His eyes, wide with astonishment, swept rapidly up and down Shan's body.

"What in the world are you wearing...?"

Wherever he had been, why on earth was a knight of all people wearing a maid's uniform? The fact that it actually suited him rather well only made it more baffling. Compared to that astonishing sight, the identity of the girl he was supporting scarcely interested the young man.

Unconcerned by his astonishment, Shan calmly made his request.

"Call the maids for me."

"Y-yes!"

The kitchen assistant hurried inside, soon returning with the head maid and another maid.

"Oh my, isn't that Miss Rin?"

"She doesn't look well."

"She must be cold."

"Goodness! I'll have a bath drawn right away."

Both women recognized Sherin's face—not as Princess Sherin, of course, but as Rin, the young mage who had visited several times before. Shan left her in their care, then washed and changed in another bathroom.

Afterward, he exchanged greetings with Tata, the butler, and the other male servants. The stablekeeper had already told them that Shan had slipped into the capital the previous night.

"Is Young Master Roden all right?"

"Yes. He'll be back soon."

"Ah..."

Tata sighed in relief at Shan's answer. He had treated Roden coldly ever since the young man had deceived him and run away from home, but in circumstances like these, he made no attempt to hide his concern.

The conversation naturally turned to how the ogre expedition had gone.

"Oh!"

"What an achievement. The Ogre Slayer..."

Not only the others but even Tata, normally so composed and reserved, showed a restrained excitement. That was likely a measure of how desperate their circumstances were. This was a time when they needed something—anything—to give them hope.

After lifting their spirits with some pleasant stories, Shan turned to the matter at hand.

"Mr. Tata."

"Yes?"

"Once Master Kalion recovers, will he be able to keep doing business in the capital?"

Tata closed his eyes briefly in thought, then shook his head.

"I'm afraid that would be difficult."

As the stablekeeper had explained, the collapse of public order during the civil war had dealt the merchants a severe blow. Naturally, Kalion's influence as head of the merchants' guild had diminished as well.

Moreover, Kalion was a follower of the New Faith, and most of his principal clients were nobles of that faith. Every one of them had either been executed or driven from the capital in the fighting. Considering that a merchant's greatest asset was his connections, there was a strong chance the rising jewelers of the Old Faith would push him aside, if not immediately, then in time.

"Then leaving the capital really would be best."

"Yes. The only question is how..."

After securing control of the capital, Conrad had kept all of Hasra's gates tightly sealed for days, intent on purging the nobles of Prince Elvin's faction who had failed to escape. Tata and the other servants had already requested permission several times to go outside and bring in a priest to examine Kalion, only to be ignored.

Shan's answer was simple.

"Well, we'll just have to break through."

He had not been moving in secret out of fear of a few night watchmen or a few dozen soldiers guarding the gates. What concerned him was their bringing Conrad's army down on him.

Once he broke through the cordon and left the city, Conrad would not be able to send a large force after him. How could he dare, with Elvin still lurking just to the south, baring his fangs?

Fortunately, no one insisted on remaining in the capital. Those with families to care for, or with less loyalty to the household, had already left the mansion long ago. Tata said they would need to ask the maids as well, but they would most likely come along. Everyone still here owed Kalion a great debt and was effectively a retainer.

They were discussing what to take from the mansion and how to rendezvous with Roden afterward when the door opened. Sherin peered inside.

"Are you busy?"

"No, it's all right. We won't reach a decision right away anyway."

After washing and warming herself in hot water and filling her stomach with soup, Sherin looked much stronger than before. A rosy flush had returned to her pale face, and her previously hazy, unfocused eyes were clear again.

"Everything was so urgent that I never thanked you. Thank you, truly. You saved my life."

Her hands, clasped around Shan's, were still on the cool side, but warmer than before.

Shan nodded in acknowledgment, then drew her along with him.

"I know you must still be tired, but could you take a look at Master Kalion?"

"Of course."

He had already told her about Kalion while they were communicating through the spider, so she went straight to his bedroom with him.

After examining the still-unconscious old man, she placed a hand on his forehead and murmured an incantation.

"What spell is that?"

"A spell to see inside. Just as I thought... There's blood inside his skull. It will have to be drained surgically. We'll need a skilled priest, too."

For that, they had no choice but to leave. Every skilled priest in the capital was currently under Conrad's control.

Of course, both the Old Faith and the New Faith strictly forbade using the Goddess's blessings in conflicts between humans. Healing those injured in such fighting, however, did not violate their doctrines. It was only natural, then, for Conrad to gather the priests and conserve their strength in preparation for future clashes.

"When do you intend to escape?"

"Tonight."

"Good. We're thinking alike."

It had already been three days since Kalion had been struck on the head and collapsed. With no way of knowing how long his elderly body could hold out, they needed to get him out as quickly as possible.

* * *

That night, the Wievers mansion's damaged front gate opened, and nine people emerged: Shan, Sherin, Tata the butler, the kitchen assistant, the stablekeeper, the personal attendant, the head maid, the maid, and finally Kalion.

The kitchen assistant and stablekeeper carried Kalion on a makeshift stretcher. Tata and the personal attendant each shouldered a large bundle. They had packed everything they could carry of any value—the belongings they had managed to protect through repeated fights with robbers.

The two maids each held a smaller bundle in one hand and a lamp in the other, lighting the way from the front and rear.

Shan stood a little apart from the others at the very front, carrying only a short sword and a dagger. He was the one who would have to do the physical work of securing their escape.

"Whew..."

In the dead of night, only their footsteps echoed through the streets.

Before long, lights flickered ahead. They belonged to the night watchmen making their usual rounds of the capital. Had Shan been alone, he would have closed his eyes, kept clear of their lights, and let them pass. That was not an option this time.

"Everyone, stop."

After giving the order, he approached with his eyes closed, stopping just outside the reach of the torchlight. Then he opened his eyes a fraction and threw his dagger at the throat of one of the watchmen, who were joking with each other.

"Ghk!"

"Agh!"

The watchman with the dagger in his throat died without managing a proper scream. His companion fell backward in terror at the sight of the man he had been chatting with a moment before collapsing.

"E-en—!"

Before the second watchman could shout, "Enemy!" a blade pierced his throat. Shan had darted into the circle of torchlight and thrust his sword straight into him.

Having created two corpses in the blink of an eye, Shan said a prayer over the dead watchmen, then clicked his tongue to summon the people behind him.

"Eek!"

"Good heavens..."

The Wievers servants stifled cries at the torchlit sight of the bodies. They had fought robbers before, but seeing corpses lying openly with blood pouring from their throats seemed to be a different kind of shock.

Acting as the party's scout, Shan led the way and cleared their route by killing three pairs of watchmen, six men in all. Once, he failed to finish quickly enough to prevent a scream, but fortunately not a single door opened in the surrounding houses. After all, who would venture out in the middle of the night with no idea what might happen to them?

They continued without further trouble for several dozen minutes. At last, Hasra's eastern gate came into view.

'This is where it really begins.'

The gate was heavily guarded, since a large force could pour through the moment it opened. Two men stood by the winch, four at the gate, and six on the wall...

According to Sherin's reconnaissance through her spiders, another sixteen off-duty soldiers were asleep in the tower adjoining the gate. If a commotion broke out, they would all come rushing out.

Shan surveyed the area, but there was no way to slip past their eyes and open the gate. That was why he had climbed over the wall to enter the city in the first place. The same approach would be most effective here.

He moved away from the gate and scaled an unlit stretch of wall. Then he approached the six men standing above the gate.

"So anyway, I grabbed that bitch Mary's ass from behind and gave it a good squeeze, and she says she's not Mary, she's Shilla—"

The guard whiling away the cold winter night with filthy stories faltered when the man opposite him suddenly staggered with a thud. He quickly turned his gaze. From far away, a green light was racing toward him, leaving a long, stretching afterimage.

An animal? No, up on the wall, out of nowhere?

Only when the approaching figure flashed into the torchlight did he realize it was a young boy in his early-to-mid teens. A boy with glowing green eyes. Surely not the Altoan knight everyone in the capital knew—

While Shan cut down the two nearest soldiers in an instant, one of the three behind them struck the bell beside him with all his might. The other two shouted urgently to their comrades below.

"E-enemy!"

"Everyone up! Get up!"

Below the wall, the soldiers by the winch and gate realized what was happening and hurried to pound on the barracks door. Shan clicked his tongue, realizing he had failed to kill them all in the surprise attack. With this many men scattered over such a wide area, even he could not eliminate them silently.

'All right. Now it's a race against time...'

Once the night watchmen relayed the alarm raised by the bell, Conrad's army would soon arrive. Somehow, Shan had to break through the gate and get far away from Hasra before then.

After killing the remaining three men on the wall, Shan immediately descended the stairs. A long spearhead was the first thing to greet him. He tilted his head, dodging so narrowly that the blade grazed his cheek, then drove the sword in his right hand into the spearman's throat.

At the same time, he knocked aside a sword coming from his flank with the mace in his left hand and planted a kick squarely in his attacker's groin.

"Guh!"

The guard doubled over in excruciating pain. Shan drove his sword into the man's chest and released the hilt, turning half a circle to lend momentum to his mace as he smashed another soldier's head apart. As a bonus, he drew the one-handed sword from the dead soldier's belt, gaining a fresh weapon.

Three remained.

"Aaaah!"

"Surround him! Even a knight dies if you stab him!"

Unlike common cut-rate mercenaries, these guards were well trained, as befitted men who defended the capital's walls. They spread out around Shan as widely as possible, attacking from every direction to force him to take a hit. An ordinary knight fighting without a scrap of armor, as Shan was, would have been badly wounded or killed.

But with his extraordinary, monstrous reflexes and athleticism, Shan deflected every attack and countered each time, methodically taking one life after another. Always half a beat faster than his opponent, always killing in the simplest, most efficient way, he made the fight look like a rehearsed performance.

This was no ambush, but a direct confrontation. Yet five of the six men who had attacked him were dead in moments. The last man crumpled to the ground.

"Wh-what kind of monster...?"

He had known knights were strong, but how could the difference be so great when the boy had no proper equipment, only a sword and a mace picked up from who knew where?

As Shan slowly approached, the last soldier scrambled to his feet and fled, scattering tears and snot. Shan did not bother to chase him down and kill him. He would have had to if the man had run toward his hidden companions, but he had gone another way.

As though arriving to take his place, soldiers poured through the opening door of the tower on the inner side of the wall. They stared blankly at Shan standing with sword and mace in hand, and at the bodies scattered around him.

"Wh-what in the world...?"

"Was this your doing?!"

"Wait, isn't that Sir Shan?"

"The Green-Eyed Knight?"

As residents of the capital, they could hardly fail to recognize his distinctive features. Shan leveled his sword at the sixteen guards emerging one after another.

"I don't have much time, so I'll say this only once. Run. Do that, and I will spare your lives."

It was a threat scarcely believable coming from one person—a young boy without so much as a suit of armor—facing sixteen soldiers. Yet not one of them dared to laugh or even show hostility.

Such was the power of the reputation Shan had built, and of the scene of slaughter he had created.