Keiser exhaled heavily, dragging a hand down his face before gripping his head.
"How about the mercenaries? The adventurers? They should've noticed something by now. If you've been saving the ones meant to be sacrifices, then the monsters should've lost their bait. No reason to keep lurking on that road to Hinnom. Someone should have realized the pattern by now."
The princess sighed, her fingers brushing the hilts of her sheathed swords in a restless gesture. The faint glow of pyre bugs shimmered into the air around her, drifting like sparks drawn to her presence.
"And what do you think I've been doing?" Her voice was low, sharp, edged with fatigue. "I can put them to sleep at the very least. I can cut them down, subjugate them, drive them back. I've done it more times than I can count. But no matter how many fall, more come. And I still cannot find the reason why they keep pressing to that road, again and again. Why not just stay in Sheol's forest, where they belong?"
Keiser's brow furrowed as he turned her words over, his mind catching on the detail with focus.
"You're saying…" he started slowly, his eyes narrowing, "…those beasts can't--or won't--return to Sheol once they've left? That instead of retreating, they just keep pouring onto the road? As if something's driving them, pushing them out?"
The princess's gaze flicked to him, silent, grim.
She gave a single nod.
Keiser's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at it as if to anchor his thoughts. His voice cracked with disbelief, frustration bleeding through.
"Damn it… then that means it's not random at all. They're not just hunting stragglers. Something's forcing them here. To that road. And if that's true…"
He trailed off, jaw tightening, the implication settling like a weight on both of them.
Keiser suddenly pushed himself to his feet, the bench scraping harshly against the ground. His voice rang louder than intended, raw with urgency.
"And you said this has been happening for a year?"
The princess frowned, startled by the abruptness of his movements. Her brows knit as she tilted her chin up at him.
"No. I told you already--I only arrived a year ago. By then, it was already happening. They'd been suffering long before that. I only… witnessed what came after. What probably prompted them to take such cruel measures."
Keiser's breath came heavy, his chest rising and falling. His jaw clenched, then without warning, his voice cracked out like a whip.
"Lenko!"
The shout jolted through the cave. The boy almost stumbled, a leaf platter nearly slipping from his hands. His wide eyes darted toward the sound--toward Muzio, whose stern gaze bore into him.
Several heads turned at the name, but the festivities barely faltered, murmurs and laughter carried on, as though unwilling to yield to the tension rising between them. A few curious ones whispered, glancing between Keiser and the princess before returning to their food and drink.
Lenko's throat bobbed as he swallowed, hurriedly thrusting the tray into another boy's hands. He wiped his palms against his tunic before making his way forward, each step hesitant, as though the earth itself had grown unsteady beneath him.
By the time he reached them, Keiser stood rigid, fists tight at his sides, while Princess Yona's sharp gaze flicked between the two.
"What is it?" Lenko asked, his voice lower than usual, already wary.
Lenko wiped his palms against his trousers, his brow furrowed in confusion as he approached.
"What's wrong, Muzio? Why do you two look so--so awfully serious? Did something happen? Was the food not cooked well? I swear I just taught them how to season it properly, maybe they still put too much--"
Keiser shot his hand up in front of Lenko's face, cutting him off mid-rumble. "Not the time."
The sharpness in his tone froze Lenko's words in his throat. The boy blinked, startled, his mouth still half-open. Keiser's hand lowered slowly, his gaze sliding toward the princess. Yona stared back at him, her eyes narrowed in guarded suspicion, the weight of her silence pressing heavier than words.
He already had a theory--an ugly one that gnawed at the edge of his thoughts. But before he allowed himself to leap to conclusions, he needed confirmation. His voice came quieter, steadier, but lined with steel.
"Lenko… since when did we start living at the outskirts?"
The boy blinked again, caught off guard by the odd question. He tilted his head slightly, confusion deepening.
"You mean… back at the forest of Sheol?" He scratched the back of his neck, searching his memory. "Oh--you mean the barn. Back at the barn, right?"
Keiser's eyes narrowed into slits. The confirmation sent a cold line down his spine. He darted a glance at Princess Yona, whose own eyes narrowed dangerously as her attention shifted to Lenko.
Seeing her expression, Keiser quickly pulled a face at Lenko, a silent warning to be careful, to shut up before he said something that could be misunderstood.
Lenko faltered, hesitating under their gazes. He rubbed his fingers against his palm, thinking, trying to piece together the memory. Finally, he began to count on his hand, his eyes glazing slightly as though lost in reminiscence.
"Uh… almost three years now…"
His tone was casual, almost absent-minded. But the words hung in the air like lead, making Keiser's stomach sink.
Keiser's frown deepened as he seized Lenko by the shoulder, fingers gripping tighter than necessary. The boy flinched, startled by the sudden pressure, but Keiser didn't ease up. His other hand half-lifted, as though ready to clamp over Lenko's mouth if he said one word too many.
From the corner of his eye, Keiser tracked the princess. Yona had already risen to her feet, her movements deliberate, her attention fixed wholly on them. Curiosity sharpened her gaze into suspicion, her lips pressed thin as though she could taste the secret hanging in the air.
Keiser pulled Lenko a fraction closer, voice dropping into a low growl meant for the boy alone.
"Since when did Muzio--" he stopped, swallowing, correcting himself quickly, "I mean… since when did I put all those sigils around the barn?"
Lenko blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgency in his tone. His brows knit together as he searched his memory, lips pursed as if to buy himself time.
"Well… you didn't start big, remember? Just a few spots, the corners where we slept, the walls you wanted safe. But over the years… yeah, you kept adding more. The barn, then the cabin, then the grounds around them."
He gestured vaguely with his free hand, his shoulders still trapped under Keiser's grip.
"It got really wide, like a circle spreading out. And no beast ever came near once you did. Not once. Starting… uh--" Lenko squinted, counting in his head, his lips moving soundlessly before he said it aloud. "About a year and a half ago?"
Keiser froze.
His throat clicked as he forced down a hard swallow.
His grip slackened on Lenko's shoulder, though his hand didn't fall away.
A year and a half.
His thoughts raced, cold realization crashing over him like a tide.
So all this time--the reason the beasts diverted, the reason the road to Hinnom suffered while Sheol stayed unnaturally empty--was because of Muzio? Because of the sigils he carved without thought?
His breath hitched, chest tightening as the pieces locked into place. He dared not look at Yona, but he could feel the princess's eyes on him, sharp and unrelenting, demanding answers he wasn't ready to give.
Keiser's jaw clenched, the bitter thought searing through him like fire.
Well… fuck, the tenth Prince just cause a disaster.
The princess had had enough. She stepped forward in one sudden motion, her hand snapping down on Keiser's shoulder with iron force. Her grip dug in, her teeth clenched tight, her other hand already coiled around the sheath of her twin blades.
"Mind telling me," she said, voice low, simmering, "what exactly you're whispering about--right in front of me?"
Keiser's head tilted just enough to glance at Lenko. The boy's eyes were wide, his confusion raw and genuine, clearly unaware of how deep Muzio--and by that, himself--was tangled into Hinnom's troubles. Lenko shifted his weight, brows furrowed, waiting for some cue.
Keiser looked back at the princess, his throat dry. He knew lying would only stoke her suspicion further, yet telling the truth might ignite something far worse. He settled for a question instead.
"Have you ever checked… why the beasts didn't come back?" His words came slow, deliberate, every syllable heavy. "Or rather--why they never crossed back to the other side?"
Yona's eyes narrowed dangerously. The pressure of her grip lingered a second longer before she released his shoulder with a sharp exhale. She turned fully to face them both, her expression caught between stern command and grim unease.
"…I did."
Her tone was flat, but it carried weight. She straightened her spine, as if recalling every detail she had discovered.
"I wasn't sure at first. But there's something… unnatural. A barrier. A ward."
Her hand tapped once against her sheath as though to punctuate the word.
"In the direction of their natural route," she went on, "there's sigils. Strong. Too strong. Not only beasts--it unsettles humans too. Pushes them back. Diverts them." Her gaze flicked sharply between Keiser and Lenko.
"Whoever carved it knew exactly what they were doing."
The silence that followed was brutal.
Lenko stiffened, the truth dawning on him piece by piece, and when his eyes finally landed on Keiser, they widened with something more than confusion---fear, guilt and shame.
Keiser, meanwhile, held his gaze straight ahead, jaw locked, refusing to flinch. Inside, his thoughts screamed.
'So I'm cleaning up after the tenth Prince.'
The princess noticed it then--the slight twitch of his mouth, the way Lenko looked at him instead of denying anything. Her teeth ground together, the muscle in her jaw twitching, her temple pulsing with restrained fury.
"Is there's something you want to say?" she demanded, each word sharpened to a blade.
"Yes."
Cleaning up? Keiser already has a solution at hand.