Not even a full day had passed when the cowboy showed up again — this time with a squad of Deens at his back.
The knock on the inn door was no knock at all. It was a demand. A warning. The kind of sound that says open up or we break it down.
I set my hand on the latch, hesitating for half a heartbeat before pulling it open.
They filled the doorway — seven of them in the empire's dark uniforms, steel at their sides. The cowboy was in front, his usual swagger replaced by something sharper. The men behind him were taller, broader, with the kind of eyes that had already measured where to strike first if things turned bloody.
They stepped inside without asking. Without even looking at me. Like they owned the place.
The pirates scattered around the tables barely looked up from their mugs. The creak of wood, the slosh of ale — it was like the soldiers weren't even there. In Kazaki, this kind of intrusion was just another night.
I wasn't shocked to see Deens. I'd seen enough of them over the years, usually when they came to drag someone away.
What shocked me was who they brought.
The leader.
Broad shoulders. Dark cloak. A scar running from his temple to his jaw. Eyes like wet stone — cold, unblinking, and heavy with authority.
He shoved past me without a glance, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. His gaze swept the room like a blade.
"Owner!" His voice cracked through the air like a whip.
From the kitchen, Elhaan emerged, wiping his hands on a towel, calm as if someone had just asked him about the weather. "That's me. What's the matter?"
The leader's gaze locked on him. "Old man, have you seen a red-bearded man named Roggan? Rumor says he's in Kazaki. Tell me the truth."
Elhaan didn't so much as blink. "You mean the legendary Roggan? Three-billion bounty?"
"That's right." The man's voice dropped lower, heavier. "Don't lie to me. Or you'll regret it."
Elhaan's reply was flat, almost bored. "Haven't seen anyone like that. Not here. Not anywhere."
"We'll see," the head growled, jerking his chin at his men. "Search the place."
The cowboy took his time strolling over, that sly grin on his face again. He leaned his elbow on Elhaan's shoulder as if they were old friends. "Don't play dumb, old man. I can feel it — a strange power in this room. You're hiding something. My bet? It's Roggan."
Elhaan gave him a faint smile. "And what exactly do I gain by hiding anything from the Deens? I like my inn unburnt."
A soldier stepped out from one of the side rooms, holding a curved talwar in his hands.
The cowboy's eyes went wide. He pointed. "That's his! Roggan's!"
Everything shattered at once.
The Deens drew steel, barking orders, moving in to seize everyone — me, Elhaan, even the pirates who had nothing to do with it. Chairs scraped. Ale spilled. The air filled with shouts and the sound of boots pounding against the floorboards.
I saw one soldier reach for the two kids huddled near the corner.
Not on my watch.
I stepped forward, my sword clearing its scabbard in a flash. His strike came low and fast — the kind of cut meant to bleed you slow. I caught it on my blade, the clang sharp enough to rattle my teeth. Before he could recover, I drove my fist into his jaw. His head snapped back, and he hit the ground like a dropped sack of grain.
A second Deen lunged at me from the side. I pivoted, letting his blade whistle past my ribs, and slammed my boot into his stomach. He folded with a grunt, but I didn't let him breathe — my pommel caught him on the temple, and he went still.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elhaan stop holding back.
His aura poured into the room like a rising tide, heavy and suffocating. The air seemed to thicken, pressing against my skin, buzzing in my ears. The cowboy's smirk faltered, then twisted into something closer to fear as realization hit — this wasn't Roggan's power. It was Elhaan's.
A Deen tried to bring his sword down on him. The steel never touched. The man froze mid-swing, his whole body locking as if invisible chains had wrapped around him.
One by one, they fell. Some were flung back as if struck by an unseen fist. Others collapsed where they stood, choking, clutching at their throats.
The leader found himself suspended in the air, feet kicking helplessly, bound by ropes of pure magic no one could see.
"What do you think you're doing?" Elhaan's voice was calm, but it carried a weight that made even me want to step back. "Killing my customers?"
"If you touch me," the man gasped, "the empire will—"
A flick of Elhaan's fingers. The words died in his mouth. He dropped like a stone, hitting the floorboards with a dull thud.
The pirates didn't wait. Chairs toppled. Coins scattered. The room emptied in seconds.
The cowboy was still on the floor, foam at the corner of his mouth. Elhaan's aura alone had been enough to drop him cold.
Elhaan turned to me, his expression unreadable. "What do you think, Mikael? More will come. Stronger ones."
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
"Our peaceful life is over," he said. "We've got our next goal. We go back to the sea."
I nodded. The truth was, I'd been ready for this since the day we came to Kazaki. The sea had a pull I couldn't ignore — and I'd been waiting for an excuse to leave.
"Pack only what matters," Elhaan said.
For me, that meant just my sword. Plain steel. No decorations. No fancy carvings. Just something that had always been at my side. I asked if I could take Gorran's, but Elhaan shook his head.
"Leave it. The Union will sniff it out. Not worth the trouble."
Yuki was already set. The boy who'd been working with us tried to hide his excitement, but I caught it in his eyes — the same restless fire I'd seen in my own reflection when I was his age.
Elhaan didn't want to take him. Said his home was in the town down the hill. But I knew that feeling, the hunger for the horizon.
So we took him.
By the time night had fully settled over Kazaki, the inn was just a memory behind us. The streets were quiet, but the quiet felt wrong — too heavy, too expectant. Somewhere behind us, the Deens would be waking, groaning, realizing what had happened. And when they did, word would reach the higher-ups fast.
If that happened, the harbor would be sealed. Every ship stopped. Every crew questioned.
We had to leave now.
The salty air was already thick in my lungs by the time we reached the waterfront. Masts swayed in the dark, black silhouettes against a starless sky.
If the empire tried to close the harbor, we'd be trapped.
We still had a chance. A slim one.
We could use a pirate ship.
But pirate ships didn't move with destinations in mind. They followed the wind, the current, and whatever trouble promised the most coin. Once you boarded, there was no telling where you'd end up — or if you'd even see land again.
Still… it was better than a noose.
To be continued ;)