The moment they crossed the treeline—everything changed.
The forest's suffocating tension was replaced by movement. Noise. Life.
The main road stretched wide before them. Merchant caravans rolled through in steady intervals. Heavy wagons creaked under loaded cargo. Beasts of burden snorted as reins were pulled. Travelers passing. Constant. Unending. A living current.
And within it—Ronan, Lyra, and the others slipped in.
Just another group. Just more bodies in motion. Difficult to isolate. Difficult to target. Exactly what they needed.
But their bodies hadn't caught up yet.
Their breaths came ragged. Uneven. Heavy. Each inhale burned their lungs. Each step still carried the echo of desperation. They had run without stopping. Without looking back. And only now—did the strain begin to settle in.
Lyra bent slightly forward. One hand over her chest. Trying to steady her breathing. But her eyes—were elsewhere. Worried. Searching for something that wasn't there.
"I hope Null-san managed to escape…" Her voice came out tremulous, a hint of fear woven through her words. Audible and fragile. "…like he promised us."
Mira clenched her teeth. Her fists tightened. "He better be." Her voice was sharp. Forced. As if holding something down. "Otherwise—" A brief pause. "I'll skin him alive the next time I see him."
It sounded like anger. But it wasn't. Not really.
Ronan said nothing. His face remained solemn. But his eyes—distant. Focused on something unseen.
Derrik stood beside him. Silent. Jaw tight. No words. Just presence.
Tobin lagged a step behind. His gaze moved between them. One by one. He observed the anxiety radiating from his companions, unsure of how to share his growing fears. Pressing against him.
His chest tightened. His fingers curled.
He knew. He had known. But—he hadn't said it. Couldn't say it. Didn't know how to say it.
Until now.
No. He knew this was not the time for indecisiveness. He swallowed. Steeling himself, he finally spoke up.
"Guys…" His voice came hesitant. Unsteady. "I think… Mr. Null lied."
Everything stopped.
Not physically—but emotionally. The air shifted. Concern turned into something sharper. Panic.
Lyra's head snapped toward him. Her heart dropped instantly. "What do you mean… Tobin-san?" Her voice trembled. Fear creeping in.
Mira moved faster. In an instant—she grabbed Tobin's shirt. Pulled him forward. Her crimson eyes—cold. Sharp. "What are you saying?!"
Tobin froze. His body stiffened. His breath hitched. "I—… I—… I—…" His voice broke apart. His courage wavered in the intensity of Mira's fiery gaze.
Ronan swiftly intervened to de-escalate the rising tension. He grabbed Mira's wrist. "Enough." Firm. Controlled. "Let him speak." His tone left no room for argument.
Mira hesitated—then clicked her tongue and let go. But her eyes didn't soften.
Tobin staggered back slightly. Gasping. Trying to breathe. Trying to steady himself.
Ronan stepped closer. "Tobin." Calm. Measured. "Tell us." A pause. "Do you know something?"
"I… I—" His hesitation returned. Stronger.
But—Ronan spoke again. Softer this time. "Don't worry. No one will blame you." A brief glance toward the others. Then back. "We just want to know… if our comrade is safe." A beat. "Don't you?"
Tobin looked up. Met their eyes. Uncertainty. Fear. Hope. All mixed together. Including his own.
His chest tightened again. But this time—he didn't look away.
"I…" He swallowed. "I think Mr. Null lied about the part where he could escape via teleportation…" His voice shook. "He made an empty promise to us."
"What—?!" Derrik's voice broke out immediately. "How could that be—"
Mira shook her head rapidly. "No—that doesn't make sense—"
Lyra didn't speak at first. Her hand rose to her mouth. "No…" A whisper. "No… no… no…" Her shoulders trembled. Tears welled up—then fell. Unstoppable.
Ronan remained still. But his fists—were clenched tightly. Knuckles pale.
He forced himself to ask. "Tobin…" His voice strained. "How can you tell?"
Tobin hesitated again. Then—"I have a lie detection skill."
Silence followed. Heavy. Complete.
No one questioned it. No one doubted it. Because they understood. Immediately. And that understanding—made it worse.
"Then why…" Ronan's voice came low. Controlled. "…didn't you tell us earlier?"
Tobin lowered his head. "It's because—" He paused. Gathering himself. "I don't know how… but Mr. Null knew about my lie detection skill somehow." A beat. "He sent me a separate mana transmission." His voice grew smaller. "…and forbade me not to say anything."
The impact of Tobin's words was like a tidal wave crashing down, leaving them all shaken. A comrade had sacrificed himself for their escape, and they had only realized it once they were safe. Perhaps Null had believed this was his way of taking responsibility for being the true target of those assassins. But that understanding brought them no solace; it only deepened the guilt of leaving someone behind.
Lyra broke first.
"I'm going back!" Her voice cracked. Desperate. She turned—ready to run—
But Derrik caught her arm. "Lyra—no." Firm. "Let go!"
She struggled. Tears streaming. "I'm not leaving him there—!"
"You going back won't save him!" Mira snapped. Her voice harsh—but her eyes shaking.
"He's still there!" Lyra shouted. "He might still be alive—!"
"And you think you can fight them?!" Mira shot back. "Or do you just want to die with him?!"
That froze her. Just for a second.
Ronan stepped in. "Enough." His voice cut through both of them. Heavy. Final.
He looked at Lyra. "Listen to me." A pause. "If we go back now… we waste what he gave us."
Lyra's body trembled. Her eyes shook. But her legs—didn't move anymore.
Ronan turned. Pulled something from his coat. The arcane communication device. Sleek. Compact. Runes faintly glowing across its surface.
He activated it. A soft hum followed. His fingers moved quickly. He clicked on the JC app and typed an emergency message to the Justice Regulators squad assigned to their mission.
"We hold here," Ronan said. Firm. "Until help comes."
---
Minutes passed. Slow. Heavy.
Lyra sat on the roadside. Head lowered. Shoulders shaking quietly.
Mira stood nearby. Silent now. No more words. Just presence.
Derrik kept watch. Eyes scanning the road.
Tobin stood still. Guilt weighing heavily on him.
Ronan remained composed—but unmoving. Waiting.
Then—a sound, low and resonant, rolled through the air like a distant pulse. Not the grinding of wheels. Not the rhythm of hooves. Something other. Something that did not belong to the ordinary flow of the world.
Then it appeared.
Descending. Not falling—but lowering itself with deliberate, controlled grace.
The vehicle hovered just above the ground, its presence warping the silence around it. Sleek in form, yet heavy with authority, it resembled a chariot stripped of all convention—no horses, no wheels, no visible means of motion. And yet, it moved. Effortlessly.
Its body was forged from a dark, mirror-like alloy, swallowing the dim light of its surroundings while reflecting faint glimmers of blue-white radiance from beneath. Beneath it, crystalline nodes of energy shimmered into existence—manifestations of power rather than machinery. They flared softly, releasing a quiet hum that vibrated through the air.
At its forefront, embedded into the obsidian curve of its frame, was a crest. Sharp. Immaculate. Unmistakable.
The scales of judgment—framed by wings and crowned with a blade. The insignia of the Justice Regulators. Authority made manifest.
The vehicle slowed. Not abruptly—but with measured intent, as though even its halt was governed by unseen laws. Then stopped before them. Hovering in perfect stillness. Light reflecting softly off its surface. A presence that demanded attention. Demanded order.
The squad had arrived.
---
The hatch unfolded. Six figures stepped out of the Ordinance Hovercraft.
At the front—a woman in a white mantle-like coat. Her presence sharp. Commanding.
If Null had been there, he would have recognized her immediately. This was the same squad he had encountered on the Skybridge.
"Everyone, we need a status report!" Her voice rang out—firm, precise—her eyes already scanning the group, reading the urgency on their faces.
Ronan stepped forward and quickly explained the situation. The ambush. The assassins. Null staying behind. The name—Obsidian Veil.
After listening—the woman's expression turned solemn.
"Obsidian Veil?" A quiet breath. "Not good." Her gaze sharpened. "We need to hurry."
She turned. "Squad—on me." Immediate. Absolute.
The five behind her moved at once. Fluid. Trained. They turned and re-boarded the Ordinance Hovercraft in perfect coordination.
She glanced back at Ronan's group. "Come. We're moving now. Every second matters."
Urgency filled the air as they all moved to board.
---
The Ordinance Hovercraft descended—not with haste—but with precision.
Its hum softened as it lowered into the woodland clearing. Then—it stopped. Hovering just above the ground.
The hatch opened. One by one—they stepped out.
And froze.
The clearing was wrong.
Too still. Too clean. Too empty.
No traces of impact. No blood. No bodies. Nothing.
Just grass. Soft. Undisturbed. Swaying lightly as if nothing had ever happened.
Ronan's steps slowed. Then stopped completely.
"What…" The word barely left his lips.
Derrik's eyes widened. "That's impossible…" His voice low. Disbelieving.
Mira turned in place. Quick. Sharp. Scanning everything. "No…" Her voice cracked slightly. "No—this isn't how it's supposed to look—"
Tobin stood frozen. His gaze trembling. "How could this be…"
Lyra took one step forward. Then another. Slow. Unsteady. Her eyes searched the ground. Desperately. As if something—anything—would prove it was real.
"No…" Her voice broke. "It was right here…" Her breathing grew uneven. "There was blood…" Her hands trembled. "There were bodies…"
Yet reality denied her.
The woman officer stepped forward. Her eyes swept the clearing once. Then again. Confirming what was already obvious.
She closed her eyes briefly. Then—sighed.
"It seems we were late." Her voice was calm. But heavy. "The assassins of the Obsidian Veil have already finished the crime."
Silence deepened.
She continued. "As the deadliest assassination organization in the world…" A pause. Her gaze lingered on the untouched ground. "…they leave completely no trace of evidence."
Her words settled over the clearing like weight. Explaining everything—while making it worse.
As she heard this, Lyra's knees weakened.
"Null-san…" A whisper. Then—she broke.
Tears spilled freely. Uncontrolled. Her hands rose to her face—but they couldn't stop it.
"No… no… no…" Her voice trembled apart. "We were too late…"
The others didn't stop her this time. Because they couldn't. Because they felt it too. That hollow realization.
Ronan clenched his fists. Harder than before. But this time—there was no tension to direct it at. No enemy. No target. Just emptiness.
Mira looked away. Her jaw tight. Eyes burning. But silent.
Derrik lowered his gaze. Heavy.
Tobin couldn't even lift his head. Guilt pressing him down.
The wind moved softly through the clearing. Carrying nothing. Not even a trace. The absence felt deliberate. Engineered. Like the world itself had agreed to forget.
The woman officer stepped forward again. Kneeling slightly. Her gloved fingers hovered just above the grass—not touching. Sensing. Reading what couldn't be seen.
Faint runic light flickered across her fingertips. Then faded.
"No residual mana signatures," she murmured quietly. More to herself than anyone else. "This is to be expected."
She straightened. Turning back to the group. Her expression firm again. Professional. But not untouched.
"We will conduct a full perimeter scan." A pause. "But don't expect recovery."
One of the squad members moved outward immediately. Then another. Spreading across the clearing in a controlled sweep. Silent. Efficient. Searching for something—anything—that might have been missed.
But nothing responded. No echoes. No fragments. No remnants. Just emptiness.
Ronan exhaled slowly. Long. Heavy.
"So this is Obsidian Veil…"
Mira didn't respond. But her nails dug into her palm. Hard enough to sting.
Derrik remained still. Eyes fixed ahead.
Tobin finally sank to his knees. Quietly. As if his legs could no longer hold him.
"This… is because I didn't say anything…" His voice broke under the weight of it. "If I had just told you all earlier—"
"No." Ronan cut him off.
Tobin froze.
Ronan didn't look at him. "That wouldn't have changed the outcome." A pause. His voice lowered. "He already decided."
Silence followed again. But this time—it settled differently. Heavier. More final.
The officer glanced at Ronan briefly. Then at Lyra. Still crying. Still unable to accept it.
"We will report this to the Sanctum," she said. Measured. "An assassination attempt by Obsidian Veil on one of their members is not a small matter." A pause. "This will escalate."
But even that—didn't reach them. Not really.
Because right now—consequences didn't matter. Only one thing did.
The empty clearing.
Lyra's quiet sobs were the only proof left that something—someone—had been there.
And now—was gone.
---
※