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Under the bridge.
The dim morning light mingled with the mist, but it couldn't obscure the gaze of someone searching for something.
Allen tilted his head slightly, observing the crowd by the riverbank with a thoughtful expression, his face betraying no emotion.
His footsteps didn't stop.
The group moved forward, weaving through the bustling crowd until they reached the foot of the Great Land Bridge.
Even more people had gathered.
The crowd formed a dense circle near the docks, but the boats that had been moored there the day before were now gone. As they approached, they saw a wooden barricade blocking the entrance to the pier.
[Southern Pier Closed. For ferry departures, please cross the Great Land Bridge to the opposite side.]
A sign hung on the barricade. Behind it, a few well-dressed nobles in black formalwear paced anxiously.
Isolte, Sylphie, Eris, and Rudeus stared at the sign for a moment before turning their eyes toward the stone steps leading up to the bridge.
Then, they all looked at Allen.
Too many unexpected twists had happened in the past few hours—the chaotic crowds, the inexplicably festive atmosphere, and now the closed pier.
But most importantly…
Allen had been unusually silent. Without his usual guidance, the group felt adrift. Unconsciously, they all stopped walking.
However, the flow of pedestrians continued, surging forward. Seeing the barricade and the packed crowd, people began pushing toward the bridge.
Amid the jostling, the group was swept along.
Then—
Thud, thud, thud!
"Move aside! Stop crowding!"
Rudeus and the others tensed at the sharp shouts, instinctively grabbing Allen's sleeves.
A squad of city guards marched through the crowd, shoving people out of the way as they headed straight for Allen's group.
Fast.
Isolte and Eris immediately rested their hands on their sword hilts.
Allen's fingers also brushed his own blade—but only for a second before releasing.
A moment later, the guards swept past them without a glance.
Isolte and Eris exhaled in relief.
Then, Allen spoke.
"Let's go. Up the bridge, to the other pier."
He patted Sylphie's back reassuringly, gave Rudeus a calming look, and guided the group toward the steps.
Seeing Allen take charge—and realizing their killings hadn't been exposed—everyone relaxed and began ascending.
But as Allen followed at the rear, his gaze flicked sideways.
The guards had entered the barricaded pier, clearing the way for the nobles.
Clink, clink, clink.
From beneath the bridge's arch came the crisp sound of hammers striking stone.
Allen glanced over. Just like yesterday, workers dangled from ropes, repairing the bridge's underside.
His gray eyes narrowed briefly before he turned and stepped onto the bridge.
One step. Two. Behind him, an angry voice erupted.
"Why isn't the repair finished yet? Who's in charge here?!"
"Lord Mayor, we—"
"Enough excuses! Check it now—if there's no major flaw, get them down immediately!"
"Yes, sir!"
Allen paused slightly. A tug on his sleeve made him look down.
Sylphie stared up at him, her silver hair (now shoulder-length) tousled by the river wind, her russet eyes filled with concern.
"Allen… is something wrong?"
"Nothing." He shook his head, then gently tucked a stray lock behind her long ear.
"Let's go."
The morning sun hadn't yet risen, but Sylphie's cheeks burned pink.
The shouting behind them faded.
Soon, they reached the top of the Great Land Bridge.
The bridge stretched about 8-9 meters wide, its white stone railings curving elegantly into the distance. Pedestrians kept neatly to the right, flowing smoothly in both directions.
At the top of the stairs, ramps branched off on either side for carriages—though today, wooden barriers blocked them, likely bearing signs like [No Carriages Today].
The reason was obvious.
The bridge's railings were packed with spectators, so thickly clustered that the river below was completely hidden.
Still, walking in the open morning air visibly eased the group's tension.
Yet they kept a brisk pace. Lingering would only risk exposing last night's killings.
Except for one person.
Eris bounded ahead, hopping at the crowd's edge before pouting.
"What're they all looking at? There's nothing on the river!"
Sylphie shook her head. "No idea. But let's not get curious—just keep moving."
Isolte opened her mouth to explain, but Eris cut in with rapid-fire questions.
"Why's Big Bro been so quiet this morning?"
"Thinking," Allen replied absently.
"About what?"
Isolte, Sylphie, and Rudeus all glanced at him.
The wind brushed Allen's face as the first golden rays pierced the haze.
The light seemed to thaw his frozen thoughts.
"It's not over yet," he said.
The group blinked in confusion.
"What's n—"
"WOOOOOOH!!!"
A deafening cheer erupted, drowning out their voices.
Everyone turned, bewildered, toward the screaming men at the railing.
Amid the noise, Allen suddenly lunged forward, yanking Eris back by the arm.
Ahead, a rope barrier encircled a two-meter section of the bridge, marked [Under Repair].
Thanks to that, this spot was empty.
Allen pivoted, using Eris' momentum to steer the group around it—just as Rudeus and Sylphie, drawn by the cheers, instinctively looked toward the commotion.
The crowd parted briefly, revealing the Alter River below, bathed in dawn's glow.
Roa's sunrise was beautiful.
But the group's gazes snapped downward.
A massive mast rose into view, followed by the gleaming hull of an ornate royal barge, its oiled wood shimmering in the light.
At some point, while their view had been blocked, the ship had glided beneath the bridge.
Now they understood the cheering—especially from the men.
They weren't here for the scenery.
"Your Highness!!"
"She looked at me! Princess Ariel looked at ME!"
"Like hell! She was looking at ME!!"
"YOUR HIGHNESSSSSSSSS—!!!" (Cue ear-splitting screech.)
A perfectly groomed, impeccably dressed specimen of unemployed nobility let out a scream worthy of a deranged fanboy—then fainted.
The group flinched, instinctively following his line of sight.
Below the bridge, on the barge's third deck, a figure stood by the window.
Golden hair cascaded like liquid sunlight, framing a face of delicate beauty—high nose, rosy cheeks, and eyes the color of a calm sea, brimming with warmth.
The "Most Beautiful Princess in Generations."
Ariel Anemoi Asura.
She waved gracefully at the crowd, her smile radiant.
Then, as if drawn by the hysterical scream, she tilted her head upward—past the dangling repair workers—and looked directly at the bridge.
Her gaze swept across, pausing briefly on Allen's group.
For a fraction of a second, her serene expression faltered.
Her eyes locked onto Allen.
In the dawn light, a young man she'd never met—yet who felt familiar—stared back at her.
His gray eyes burned with the morning sun.
Then, he smiled.
The moment Allen saw Ariel, everything clicked.
The missing pieces of the puzzle slid into place.
Now, he just needed confirmation.
Detection—max output.
His gaze dropped to the barge's second deck, where a bespectacled young man with dark brown hair glared at the dangling workers.
Dilick Rettebatt.
Thoughts flashed like lightning.
The Rettebatt family, split after the last succession war.
The provincial branch—Dilick, Ariel's guard mage.
The capital branch—orphaned—Water King assassin—Huein Rettebatt.
The Water King's bounty—killers willing to die for the reward.
An assassination attempt beyond James' usual resources.
The upcoming succession battle.
The First Prince, the strongest contender.
James, serving under the First Prince.
If Ariel dies, James can never surpass the insurmountable 'mountain'—Darius.
The suspiciously slow repairs. The barricade blocking their path.
The mayor's furious orders to hurry.
This didn't happen in the original story—another ripple from my actions.
In that instant—
Creeeak… CRACK!!!
"AHHH!!"
The bridge exploded beneath them.
The "repair zone" collapsed in a rain of shattered stone, sending Allen's group plummeting.
And yet—Allen was still smiling?
Wind roared as dragon-sanctified battle aura erupted from his body.
With one last push against solid ground, he slammed his palm into the air—visible shockwaves rippled outward, blasting Sylphie and the others onto stable footing.
"Allen?!" "Big Bro!"
Before their startled cries could fade—
Broken stone. Shattered railings. Snapped ropes.
Dozens of figures. Gleaming blades. Overwhelming bloodlust.
Everything surged upward as the bridge gave way.
Allen, who'd been gripping the edge, had to release it to dodge a sword slash—sending him tumbling into the chaos below.
Isolte and Eris, as swordsmen, reacted fastest. They lunged for Allen's hand the moment they landed—
And missed.
Leaning over the edge, adrenaline stretched seconds into eternities.
The river shimmered gold in the dawn light. Debris and bodies spiraled downward in slow motion.
But the person they sought simply looked up at them, still smiling.
SPLASH!!
A colossal wave drenched their faces—along with Allen's final command.
"Wait for me."
Clear. Firm.
Isolte's gentle features twisted into something feral. She spun to leap after him—
Only for Eris to grab her arm. When Isolte tried to shake her off, Rudeus and Sylphie piled on, pinning her down.
Isolte's expression turned incredulous.
"He's never fought underwater before! The Light Sword needs footing—it's useless there! LET GO!!"
"Trust Allen!!" Sylphie, who'd also heard him, clung desperately.
"WHAT?!"
Then—a new scream tore through the air.
From the barge below.
"ASSASSINS AMONG THE GUARDS!! PROTECT THE PRINCESS!!"
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