They found the quartermaster sitting behind a tall stack of wooden crates, going over an inventory ledger in the back corner of the supply hall. The man looked up when he heard approaching boots.
"Captain Rhan," he said, pushing the mug aside, "it's not often you visit me directly. What brings you here?"
Rhan didn't waste time. "Duvail, I need to speak to you."
The quartermaster folded his hands and leaned forward. "Of course. What's the matter?"
Rhan stepped closer, his tone calm but firm. "I want to ask about the extra flour. You've heard about the explosion this morning, haven't you?"
Duvail's brow furrowed. "I heard something happened, yes."
"It was caused by improper storage," Rhan explained. "Extra flour was placed in the storage room. We never store flour there. Why did you order that?"
Duvail's face didn't shift much, but he nodded slowly. "Lieutenant Raidar tasked me to have it done. He explained there was going to be a week-long patrol for about thirty-five soldiers. Said they'd need more bread, more rations. That's why I gave the order to grind extra grain. I don't know the details beyond that — it was a direct instruction, so I followed it."
Rhan rubbed his temple again. "I don't recall any patrol like that being scheduled."
"I assumed it was cleared through your desk," Duvail said. "Lieutenant Raidar didn't sound uncertain when he passed it down."
Rhan gave a tired nod. "Alright. I'll ask him myself. Thanks, Duvail."
"Of course, Captain. Good luck."
They turned to leave. Rhan exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair.
"This is exactly what happens when too many things go wrong at once," he said, voice edged with frustration. "Every little fire, every incident, every small chaos — it all lands on my desk. Who sorts it out? Us, of course. Never mind all the regular duties."
"That's why it's helpful that you're digging into this," Rhan continued. "Because if it were up to me alone, I'd drown in the paperwork before I reached any conclusion."
Eventually, they found Lieutenant Raidar behind the training yard, standing beneath the eaves of a shaded alcove. He was speaking with another soldier, issuing a few instructions before turning and noticing the group.
He straightened and gave a small nod. "Captain Rhan. What brings you?"
Pao's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied him.
Rhan returned the nod. "Raidar. I want to ask about the flour."
Raidar blinked. "The flour?"
"Yes. You gave the quartermaster an order to grind more bags than usual. Why?"
"Ah," Raidar said, nodding as if just remembering. "Yes. We've been preparing for a wide patrol. A monster sweep. After that merchant incident in the woods, it made sense to secure the area. Don't you remember? I assumed it was processed through your records."
Rhan tilted his head. "No, I don't recall approving that."
Raidar didn't falter. "Thirty-five people. A full week. We needed extra food. I figured flour would be the easiest bulk supply to handle. The plan was to clear out the ridge-side caves, then sweep west of the basin."
"I haven't seen any paperwork," Rhan said.
"You should have it in your archives," Raidar replied without missing a beat. "Might've been buried. You've had your hands full lately."
Rhan paused, then gave a short exhale. "That's true. With everything else going on, I've barely slept."
Raidar chuckled. "Happens to the best of us. Take it easy, Captain."
Rhan muttered under his breath. "I'd love to."
As they walked back from the place they met lieutenant, Rhan said, "Alright. I'll dig through the documents tonight. I should be able to fond it somewhere in the archives. Come back in the morning."
Bral nodded, about to respond, but before he could even open his mouth, Pao stepped forward slightly. "Wait… there's one thing," she said.
Rhan looked back at her. "What do you mean?"
Pao hesitated just a breath, then said, "When you spoke to Lieutenant Raidar — I noticed something on him. Some kind of spell. It was similar sensation to the magic that Shio used to mask his features."
Rhan's brows drew together. "A spell? You're saying he's under a magical disguise?"
Pao nodded, though there was some hesitance in her voice. "Yes, but… I can't say for certain. I don't have a dispel spell like Jinrai. I can only see the residue, the way the mana flows unnaturally."
Rhan frowned deeply, his arms crossing again. "Are you suggesting he's a vampire?"
"I'm saying it's possible," Pao said carefully.
Rhan shook his head. "Raidar's one of our best officers. He's loyal, disciplined, and has more combat experience than half my squad leaders combined. I'm not saying you're lying, but… I can't accept that unless I see it with my own eyes."
"I understand," Pao said. "That's why I didn't say anything earlier. We'll need Jinrai to verify it. Unless Ashvale has someone who can cast a spell like this?"
Rhan sighed, already shaking his head. "No. We have healers, but they're trained more for battlefield wounds, sickness, and recovery. Magical diagnostics or high-level dispelling? We've got nothing like that."
"Then we will have to wait," Pao said simply.
Rhan nodded. "Exactly. For now, we act normal. Don't let him suspect anything. When your friend arrives, we'll settle this."
The group offered quiet nods of agreement, and they headed back toward the inn.
As they walked, Idin, who had been walking a bit behind the rest, stepped forward and looked toward Pao.
"By the way, Pao," he said, "I broke that glass ball you gave me during the incident. But… nothing happened. No portal. Nothing at all. Are you sure that thing works?"
Pao blinked and turned to him, her steps slowing. "Ah… well. Like I said, I can't guarantee anything yet. I'm still refining the structure. The training I'm doing with Amu — it's helping me get closer to making it more reliable."
Amukelo glanced over. "Helping you? How?"
Pao looked up at him with a quiet smile. "Just as you've been progressing with sensing mana, I've been improving my ability to condense and maintain it. I can now focus my mana more precisely and hold it steady for longer. That's the foundation for constructing something like a connected portal spell."
She glanced down at her open palm, flexing her fingers. "To imprint a spell like that into a vessel — the spell must be woven into the crystal of sort, and structured inside of it. A single mistake, a shift in the pressure, and it becomes unstable. The more accurate I get with controlling mana, the better the spell's efficiency."
Pao sighed. "And the worst part is that the only way to know whether it succeeded is breaking the crystal. But breaking it wastes all the effort. So I've been trying to avoid doing that until I'm really confident."
She looked over at Amukelo again and added, "That's why, during our training, I haven't used my staff. It's easier to control and amplify with it, but by doing everything with my palm, I'm improving faster. The sensation is weaker, but I'm learning more. Sorry about that."
Amukelo stopped for a moment. He didn't say anything right away. Then he said, softly, "Pao… if not for you, I would've already given up. I would've taken that first failure and walked away. I can't even tell if I'm getting closer. I don't think I've felt anything yet, not even a flicker."
He looked up at her. "Even if you used your staff, I don't think I'd sense a thing. So if anything, I'm the one who should apologize. For wasting your time. For being such a pain."
Pao opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Idin gave a low whistle behind them.
Bral elbowed him, grinning. "This is getting way too sweet."
Bao, walking on the far side, just let out a long sigh and covered her face with one hand.
"God," she muttered, "they're like some kind of romance drama in slow motion."
Pao turned slightly pink. "W–we're just training."
Amukelo coughed awkwardly and looked away. "Yeah. That's it."