Aron sat in silence, then finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him.
"What are you really looking for here, Master?"
Canis didn't answer immediately. He simply stared out the small window, his golden eyes reflecting the gray sky beyond the iron bars. His silence was heavy, unreadable.
Easton, sitting nearby, folded his arms and leaned back with a sigh. "Canis… You've been acting recklessly lately. You're being too aggressive. I know you're frustrated, but you need to be more patient. There's something about this whole situation that isn't right. Let's not make it worse."
Canis finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm.
"I'm sorry… for dragging both of you into this. You don't deserve to be caught up in my selfishness."
His words made Aron frown.
"Wait—what do you mean? You're just gonna go?"
Canis didn't reply.
At that moment, the door creaked open. Austin stepped in, carrying a small wooden chair. He placed it right in front of the cell and sat down slowly, crossing one leg over the other. There was something different in his expression. Uncertainty.
He stared directly at Canis.
"Let me ask you a question,
…Are you… a descendant of the Clan of the Demon?"
Aron turned sharply. "What? Clan of the Demon?!"
Easton didn't react. He merely watched Austin in silence, unfazed by the question.
Canis didn't blink. He stared back at Austin, his face unreadable, his golden eyes dim with disinterest.
Austin continued. "That's the first time I've seen those golden eyes in real life… My grandmother used to tell stories. About the ancient bloodlines. The Demonic Clan. Hunted to near extinction after the Ethnic Cleansing."
He leaned forward, smiling to himself. "I never thought I'd actually meet one."
There was a glint of greed behind his eyes now.
"…Instead of handing you over to that fat merchant Hamburg," he said with a sneer, "maybe I should sell you into slavery. A creature like you would fetch a fortune."
There was a tense silence.
Easton stood.
"Don't speak about my Boss like that," he said coldly.
Aron followed, stepping forward with clenched fists. "Don't talk about my Master like that."
Austin blinked. For a moment, he realized what he'd just said—and to whom.
Then Aron turned to Canis. "So… are we breaking out or not?"
Canis smiled faintly, but it was the kind of smile that sent chills through the air.
"Of course," he said. "Rest time's over."
Without hesitation, Canis stepped toward the front of the cell. From the palm of his hand, a black mist began to swirl—dense, writhing, and unnatural. It coiled around his shackles and in seconds began eating through the steel like acid.
The chains hissed, melted, and crumbled to ash.
Canis raised his now-free hands and placed them on the iron bars. With a sharp grunt, he forced the metal apart with brute strength, bending the thick bars outward until there was just enough space for him to step through.
Austin shot to his feet and stumbled back, eyes wide with fear. "W-What the hell—!?"
Outside the cell, two guards heard the noise and burst into view, rifles already raised. Their mana-infused weapons crackled with energy as they aimed directly at Canis.
"Stop right there!" one barked.
Canis didn't stop.
His hands, still burning with darkness, twitched slightly as the shadows around his arms deepened.
Easton stepped beside him, eyes narrowed. "We doing this?"
Canis glanced sideways at Aron and Easton. "No killing, boys."
Aron pouted. "Even if they try to shoot us in the face?"
"Especially then," Canis said dryly. "Wouldn't be much of a challenge if we just turned them into puddles."
"Try not to break too many noses this time," Canis added as he stepped forward.
Easton scoffed. "No promises. That last guy's face just flew into my fist."
Canis cracked his knuckles, the darkness still dancing over his skin. "Then maybe you should keep your fists in your pockets."
"And let you hog all the drama? Never," Easton grinned.
Austin, cornered, finally found his voice. "Guards! Fire!"
But the guards hesitated, eyes wide with terror. This wasn't the kind of criminal they were trained to deal with.
Canis tilted his head, amused. "Are we intimidating now? I feel like we're intimidating."
"We are," Easton said calmly. "Mostly because of your glowing hands and the way you just melted steel."
"I give it a seven out of ten, Master." Aron shrugged.
As the guards faltered, Canis turned his attention back to Austin. "I'm not interested in future conflict with you all, so don't show your face infront of me ever again!"
The lights in the corridor flickered.
---
Far above, in a private chamber lined with silence enchantments, the atmosphere had grown heavy.
Shina Mariposa stood frozen, her arms limp by her sides. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, but they trembled ever so slightly, betraying the storm brewing beneath her surface.
Guntur stood by the door, arms crossed, his brow furrowed. He said nothing.
Etos, seated calmly across from her, slowly closed the thick file in front of him. It bore no title on the cover—just a crimson seal, now broken.
The silence was suffocating.
Etos looked up at Shina, then leaned back in his chair with a resigned sigh.
"…And that," he said quietly, "is the history of the Great Warrior—Canis Majoris."
Shina didn't speak. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. She just kept staring forward, locked in place by the weight of everything she had just heard—though the audience is never told exactly what that was.
Guntur walked over slowly and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Now you understand why we couldn't tell you earlier."
Shina finally blinked.
"Everything… everything about him is classified because…"
Etos nodded. "Because his existence alone could shake the entire balance of the Empire."
Outside the window, the sky above the southern coast turned red as the sun began to set. Shadows lengthened, both in the room and across the empire.
And deep beneath the barracks, the storm was ready to break loose.
Canis looked over his shoulder once more at his two companions.
"Alright boys," he said, smiling faintly, "time to clock out."
"You sure you don't want to go back to sleep?" Aron quipped. "We only just got comfy."
Canis chuckled. "If you call prison beds comfy, I worry about your standards."
Easton cracked his neck. "Just try not to bring the building down this time."
"No promises," Canis said—and stepped into the fray.
{Chapter 63 End}