CHAPTER 87 — THE WANTED PILLARS
Night had fallen over WhaleBelly.
The town's streets glowed with lamplight reflected off the calm sea. The sound of distant waves echoed like a lullaby. After the long, exhausting day, Moro and his squad found a small hotel near the harbor—a quiet, old building made of oak and shellstone, with a faint smell of salt and bread in the air.
They took two adjoining rooms. Kaya helped arrange Moro's bandages, while Kiro sat by the window sharpening his sword with a whetstone. Herbet and Yaya were downstairs, making sure they had food for the night and checking for any rumors spreading through the town.
Moro looked out the window toward the horizon. "It feels peaceful," he said softly.
Kaya smiled faintly. "Too peaceful. Towns like this usually sleep under someone's shadow."
He nodded. "Yeah. I can feel it too."
Kiro finally stood, sheathing his blade. His eyes carried a heaviness that hadn't faded since San Juan.
"Moro," he said quietly, "we need to talk."
Moro turned from the window. "What's on your mind?"
Kiro walked closer, stopping at the edge of the bed. His tone was sharp but filled with guilt.
"CD-9," he began. "They're coming. It's only a matter of time before they track us here."
Moro's expression hardened. "You're sure?"
Kiro nodded. "I know their system. Once someone interferes with a registered raid, they're flagged in the continental surveillance. We may have left San Juan, but our names didn't."
Moro folded his arms. "So they'll come here… to Mavaria."
Kiro looked down at his hands. "They'll come for you first. You're their highest interest."
Kaya glanced at him. "What about you, Kiro? You were one of them. Won't they hesitate?"
He gripped his sword tightly, jaw clenching. "No. The moment I turned my blade against them, I became a traitor."
He turned to Moro, his voice low but fierce. "I couldn't protect you properly in San Juan. I froze when I should've fought harder. I can't make that mistake again."
Moro stepped forward and placed a hand on Kiro's shoulder. "You didn't fail me, Kiro. You stood when most men would've fallen. That's what matters."
Kiro's gaze softened. Before he could reply, Yaya entered quietly, carrying a tray of bread and tea. She placed it on the small wooden table near the window. "Looks like this team can't rest for a day," she said with a tired smile.
Kaya chuckled softly. "We're trouble magnets. Always have been."
Yaya sat down, crossing her arms. "You're right about CD-9. They'll come. I used to run those intel routes myself. Once your name enters their system, it doesn't leave."
Kiro turned to her. "You don't regret leaving, do you?"
Yaya's face turned thoughtful. The candlelight reflected in her eyes. "I did, once. But not anymore. Not after what I've seen."
Moro tilted his head. "What made you join them in the first place?"
Yaya smiled faintly, leaning back. "They promised to protect people. That was the lie. We thought we were justice. But we were weapons."
She looked at him directly. "And then I saw you—someone who fights without orders, without chains. I left because I wanted to fight for something real."
Moro nodded quietly. "Then we're all the same. Broken soldiers chasing a dream of peace."
Kaya placed her hand gently on his arm. "A dream that still breathes because of you."
Outside, the waves hit the cliffs harder, as if warning them of the coming storm.
---
THE NEXT MORNING
The air in WhaleBelly felt heavy.
A distant siren wailed from the eastern docks. The streets, once lively, were quiet and strange.
Kiro was the first to notice the shadows moving outside the window—figures in uniform, their steps synchronized, their armor faintly glinting.
"Guards," he muttered.
Herbet peered through the blinds. "A dozen at least. Maybe more surrounding the building."
Kaya tensed. "Why would guards be here?"
A loud voice echoed from below.
"By order of the Mavarian Court, open this door! You are under arrest for public disturbance and threat to civil order!"
Yaya's eyes widened. "Public disturbance?"
Herbet groaned. "Let me guess—the baker."
Moro stood slowly, his expression unreadable. "He filed a complaint."
Kiro drew his sword immediately. "Then we fight."
But Moro raised his hand. "No. We go peacefully. For now."
Kaya looked shocked. "What? After everything?"
Moro nodded calmly. "We don't strike first. That's what separates us from them."
The door burst open. Soldiers stormed in, weapons drawn.
"Hands where we can see them!" the captain barked.
Moro and his squad didn't resist. They were bound and escorted through the streets. Crowds gathered to watch. Whispers filled the air—some mocking, others afraid.
"That's him, the stranger who threatened the baker."
"I heard he's a killer."
"Outsiders bring nothing but chaos."
Moro kept his head high. The boy from yesterday—Lian—stood in the crowd, eyes wide and worried. Moro caught his gaze for a brief second and smiled faintly as if to say, Don't be afraid.
The guards led them into a black carriage marked with the royal seal. It started moving, creaking down the road toward the central outpost. But as the sound of hooves faded, something about the silence inside felt wrong.
Kiro leaned forward. "This isn't the path to the station."
Herbet frowned. "Yeah. They're heading west."
Moro's eyes narrowed. "You're right."
The captain outside shouted to the drivers, "Once we hit the forest line, finish them. No traces."
Yaya's heart dropped. "They're going to kill us."
Kiro's grip on his sword tightened. "Not today."
With one swift motion, Kiro snapped his restraints. The others followed—Moro simply flexing his arms until the cuffs shattered. Kaya summoned a burst of water that flooded the floor, short-circuiting the carriage's locks.
The driver looked back in panic, but it was too late. The door exploded open as Moro leapt out, rolling onto the dirt road. The others followed.
The guards quickly surrounded them, blades drawn. "Eliminate them!" the captain shouted.
Moro's voice cut through the chaos:
"Justice doesn't die in the dark!"
Kiro charged first, slicing through a guard's blade cleanly in half. Kaya swung her water streams like whips, disarming two men in seconds. Yaya moved like lightning, striking pressure points and dropping soldiers before they could scream. Herbet's punches cracked armor like glass.
And Moro—his aura shimmered golden as he moved through the fight. He disarmed, struck, and dodged with effortless precision. He didn't kill. He didn't need to. Every move was a statement: Justice can defend without destroying.
Within minutes, the road was silent again. The guards were all down, groaning or unconscious.
Yaya caught her breath. "So much for going peacefully."
Moro sheathed his sword slowly. "We gave them a chance to choose the right path. They didn't take it."
Herbet looked at the forest beyond. "We can't go back to town now."
Kiro nodded grimly. "We're already branded criminals. Even if we saved those men's lives, the story will twist against us."
Kaya's eyes softened. "So this is how it starts… hunted by the world for doing what's right."
Moro looked up at the sky—blue, clear, and endless.
"If the world calls justice a crime," he said quietly, "then we'll be the best criminals it's ever seen."
---
THE FOLLOWING DAY
Every newspaper in Mavaria had one headline:
> "OUTLAWS OF WHALEBELLY: THE PILLAR OF JUSTICE STRIKES AGAIN."
Illustrations of Moro and his squad filled the front pages, exaggerated and monstrous. They were called terrorists, thieves, and traitors.
Inside the capital, government officials met behind closed doors, signing warrants and sending bounty hunters across the lands.
In WhaleBelly, the townsfolk whispered nervously.
The baker smirked proudly, thinking himself victorious. But the boy Lian, clutching Moro's silver token, whispered to himself,
"He saved me. He can't be bad… he can't."
Far away, in the forest, the squad rested by a riverbank. Kiro cleaned his blade, Herbet gathered wood, and Kaya sat beside Moro who stared quietly at the flowing water.
Yaya approached, holding a small bag of fruit. "Breakfast."
Moro smiled faintly. "Thanks."
She sat beside him. "You know, the world's never kind to those who speak too loudly for truth."
Moro looked at his reflection in the river. "Then we'll just have to make our truth louder."
The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of sea salt and fire.
In the distance, from a high cliff overlooking the forest, the same mysterious man watched again. Cloaked, silent, unreadable.
He observed the group with eyes that seemed ancient—calculating, curious.
When the wind brushed past, he whispered to himself,
"The pillars rise. But will they stand when the tide turns?"
And just like that, he was gone—disappearing into the mist of Mavaria's endless forests.
Moro stood suddenly, sensing something.
Kaya looked up. "What is it?"
He shook his head slowly. "A feeling… that something's watching us."
Kiro smirked. "Then let it watch. We'll give them a show they'll never forget."
The squad gathered their things, ready to move deeper into the unknown land of nobles, corruption, and buried power. They weren't just fugitives anymore—they were sparks of justice running through a dark empire.
The world had named them criminals.
But history would remember them differently.
---
End of Chapter 87 — "The Wanted Pillars"