"Look at you. When did you become so dirty?" Fenric ran his hand along Beretta's frame, examining every scratch and dent. "Even got some wounds. Oh, Molly... sigh. I'm sorry, girl. It's my fault. I haven't shown you any care lately." He grabbed a cloth and began scrubbing. "Don't worry. I'll bring you back to your usual self—all healthy and shining."

  He worked methodically, washing and scraping every nook and corner, a genuine smile on his face.

  Wonder what Kuro wants to talk about with Ella. He usually doesn't care about others. I don't even know if he cares about me... Hmm. Wait, could it be l-l-lov— Fenric shook his head. Yeah, right. And Ella She even gave me a look to not listen in. Whatever.

  Inside, the silence stretched.

  "So," Kuro said finally. "Are you going to answer or what?"

  "Of course I don't have a problem answering." Ella crossed her arms. "But before that, I want you to answer me one question. If you agree, you'll get your answers."

  "...Sure."

  "Great." Ella leaned forward. "Fenric told me you lost your memories. That explains why you can't use the arcane gun's full potential. But no one—I mean no one—I know has ever shot bullets that precise at that impossible distance. How?"

  "Simple." Kuro's voice was flat. "I have experience with that kind of weapon. That's all."

  "Muscle memory, huh?" Ella's eyes narrowed. "And yet you don't know how to use magic crystals. Did you really lose your memories?"

  "That's a second question."

  Ella scoffed. "Fine. What's your question again?"

  "Are you a noble?"

  Ella's face turned serious. "That's not what you asked first."

  "Answer."

  "Hmph. Fortunately, no." Her jaw tightened. "What made you ask that?"

  "Only nobles can use magic, so—"

  "So you thought because I used magic without my weapon, I must be one of those sick bastards?" Ella's voice carried an edge. "Too bad. Other than them, those who learn magic meticulously and practice extensively can also use it."

  Kuro's eyes sharpened, anticipating.

  Ella let out a small, bitter laugh. "And that's not the case for me either. Unfortunately... it's a big sin."

  "Then?"

  "That's your second question."

  Kuro shrugged.

  "But I'll answer anyway." Ella's expression grew guarded. "I don't know if you're aware of this—or remember it—but there's a type of magic crystal modified enough to be used directly on humans. Though it's also a sin. A smaller sin, but still forbidden."

  "Modified crystal..." Kuro's mind raced. Wait a minute; didn't that Daro bastard use something similar? Tch, I don't know if she really used one, though... Wouldn't the crystal break after multiple uses?

  Ella crossed her arms. "Wow. That's the first time I've seen you think that deeply. Why? Do you find it unbelievable? An A-rank like me using underhanded methods?" Her voice carried challenge. "Are you going to rat on me?"

  "No." Kuro's voice was firm. "As long as the situation is dealt with, I don't have a problem with what you use. But doing it with your own strength—with what you're truly capable of—is what matt—"

  His words trailed off.

  He realized.

  His own situation. Relying on the Bird's power. Borrowed. Not his.

  His hand clenched into a fist, knuckles turning white.

  "Kuro? You alright?" Ella closed the distance, reaching toward his shoulder.

  Kuro's hand shot out and caught her wrist before she could touch him—grip tight, almost painful.

  "Ouch! Dude, what the hell?" Ella yanked her hand back, rubbing her wrist. "Holy shit, that hurt."

  "...Ah. Reflex."

  "That's one crazy reflex for trying to console you."

  "The modified crystals," Kuro said. "Do you have any on you now?"

  Ella blinked at him. "Not even a sorry, huh?" She flexed her hand once more, checking the fingers he'd nearly crushed. "No. They're all used up."

  "Where can you get more?"

  "Why?" Her eyes narrowed. "Planning on using them?" Are you serious? Something sharper entered her voice. "Didn't you hear a word I said — it's not just crime. It's a poison. Slow, quiet, and it doesn't stop accumulating once it starts."

  I'm aware of that. Then how come you used it? Didn't it affect you or did you even use it?

  "You've been running questions at me like an interrogation. Are you accusing me of something? If you have something to say to me, then say it." A nervous sweat trailed across her face.

  Kuro looked at her.

  He said nothing.

  The silence stretched long enough to become its own kind of answer.

  "That's all," he said finally. "You can go."

  The sound Ella made was not quite a laugh — something shorter, sharper, wrung out of a place past patience.

  "Mean bastard," she turned toward the door. "Fine. Goodbye forever."

  The door didn't close so much as it was sent — a crack of wood against frame that rattled the hinges and shook a thin line of dust from the ceiling.

  Fenric's voice drifted through the wall immediately. "Ella, that's my door — be careful, it's going to—"

  "Whatever."

  A beat of quiet. Then:

  "Did your girlfriend get a wash? She was looking pretty ugly when I—"

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  "What did you just call her—"

  Their voices folded into each other outside, trading insults with the comfortable rhythm of people who had been doing this long enough that it had stopped being an argument and become something else entirely.

  Inside, the noise faded to background.

  Kuro lowered himself onto the couch and didn't move. One hand found its way to his side — the place where the curse had taken root beneath skin and bone — and his fingers pressed against it slowly, feeling the dull weight of it that never quite left.

  He sat with it.

  The laughter outside drifted in through the walls. The distant sounds of the feast. A town full of people eating well and not knowing what any of it cost.

  He stared at nothing and thought that it didn't have any meaning.

  Night fell.

  The streets erupted with celebration.

  A feast had been prepared—Morvane's remains brought back by selected guild members on Master Rhanes's orders. They'd even retrieved Ella's destroyed wagon, Windwaker, though it was beyond immediate repair.

  Morvane's meat was enough to feed the entire town. The people indulged happily, knowing they were eating the flesh of a high, rare, valuable beast—gourmet food most would never taste in their lifetimes.

  "Are you sure about this?" Barvtov asked, standing beside Rhanes. "You know how much Morvane's meat fetches. The overlords go crazy for this."

  "I know." Rhanes took a sip of wine. "And it's not my decision. It was Ella's kill, so her choice. I agree completely."

  "Don't be modest. I'm sure she just told you to do whatever with it."

  "Ha... ha..." Rhanes's laugh was dry.

  They stood at the town's center, watching the streets arranged with long dining tables, lanterns strung overhead, music drifting through the air.

  "So where's our mayor?" Barvtov asked. "He agreed to this on short notice. I thought he'd be here overseeing the feast."

  "If you open your drunken eyes wide," Rhanes said dryly, "you'll see Sir Onvale Thaddeus, our mayor, enjoying the feast as we speak."

  Barvtov scanned the tables and spotted the mayor dining, surrounded by pretty ladies. "Lucky man. He knows his priorities." He grinned. "Good day, then, Hammer. I'll be joining the mayor."

  Suit yourself, Rhanes spoke dryly, but don't come running when your wife sees you.

  Inside the guild, Kuro and Fenric sat feasting and drinking to their hearts' content.

  Kuro glared at his meal as sudden, violent memories surfaced—the four-winged avian monstrosity that had nearly ended his life. It was a brutal circle of life, the hunter becoming the hunted and back again and and the bird entity that invaded his mind clouded his vision Flashes of feathers and talons danced in his mind's eye. His features darkened with rage as he clamped his jaws down, taking a bitter bite of the flesh.

  "...Hm?" His eyes widened slightly. "The guild food is actually good. What's happening?"

  "That's because it wasn't cooked by the guild cook," Fenric explained. "It was personally cut, cleaned, and cooked by the town's pride—Royane, owner and head chef of the Royal Stomach Cookhouse."

  "Hmm. How come we never went there?"

  "Two reasons. One: it's crazy expensive. Two: my kind isn't allowed." Fenric's voice carried no bitterness—just statement of fact.

  Kuro looked at Fenric, thinking.

  "What? Do you have something to say?"

  "No, it's nothing. I'm just wondering why you're praising her when you aren't even allowed to enter the restaurant."

  "Restaurant?"

  "...Cookhouse."

  Yeah, they say separate the art from the artist, so I hate her like I hate the rest of them humans, but not her food.

  "Hm."

  "Cutie! Here, extra for you." Lovia appeared, placing an additional plate before Kuro—Morvane's breast meat. "It's great for gaining muscle."

  "What about me?" Fenric's tail swayed in anticipation.

  "Oh, you? Sorry, it's finished. Next time, maybe." Lovia smiled brightly, waved to Kuro, and headed back out to attend to other patrons.

  "Next time, she says. Like Morvane just sprouts out of nowhere." Fenric shook his head. "Partner, you're one lucky bastard."

  Kuro didn't respond. Just kept eating.

  Fenric swayed his head in disbelief. "Dude. Come on, man. Live a little. Aren't you going to make a move? She's all over you."

  "...What do you mean?"

  "For Molly's sake, take a hint already! I'm talking about Lovia."

  "What about her?"

  Does he only operate for action or what? "Partner, Lovia is—"

  "Before any of that," Kuro said, "what's the deal with the Morvane's head? Why is it valuable enough to earn a name and qualify for staying in Euneim?"

  Fenric looked up from his cup. "Huh?" He set it down. "I explained this before — every high-beast carries something unique. Your Mosrel's horn is exceptional for medicine, right? Same principle." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "But with the Morvane, it's not the head itself. It's the brain. The skull. Those can be rendered down into a potion — an anichor booster. Sounds modest when you say it like that, but for anyone who uses magic at a serious level, that potion is everything. Completely useless to common people, of course. But for nobles?" He turned his cup slowly in his hands. "It might as well be oxygen."

  Kuro stared at him.

  Fenric paused. "...You don't know what anichor is, do you."

  Silence.

  "Right." Fenric pushed his plate aside and leaned back, rolling his shoulders. "I swore to myself I was done giving lectures. And yet." He exhaled. "Fine. Here it is, and I'll keep it short."

  "Magic isn't free. Every noble is born carrying a weight — invisible, but as real as bone. It lives somewhere between the soul and the body. That's anichor. It's the measure of how much power a person can safely hold before it—" He pressed both palms flat together, then slowly, deliberately, compressed them. "—crushes them."

  Kuro's eyes narrowed. "Crushes them."

  "Literally." Fenric's voice was even. "Push past your limit — cast too much, reach for too much at once — and your body stops being able to contain it. The magic turns inward. Bones splinter. Organs rupture. The flesh just..." He opened his hands. "Gives."

  A beat of quiet settled between them.

  "And the Morvane's potion?"

  "Strengthens the container. Expands it. Lets you carry more before the weight breaks you." Fenric picked his cup back up. "For nobles operating at the highest level, that's not a luxury — it's survival. There are stories of nobles who burned through their capacity entirely. "They didn't die," he paused, and something in his expression shifted. "They just became ordinary. No magic. No power. Nothing left of what they were." He took a slow drink. "To people like that, there's nothing more terrifying. They'd sooner be dead." Do you understand?

  Kuro held his gaze. Huh-huh.

  Fenric studied him for a moment. "...Do you, really."

  "Yes," Kuro said. His eyes were sharp and still.

  "Good," Fenric seemed satisfied. "And to finish — it's not only the skull and brain that carry value. Even the meat holds some of that essence. Lesser, but present."

  Kuro's gaze drifted slowly toward the open doorway, out to the lantern-lit streets where people were laughing and eating and filling their cups without a thought in the world for what they were consuming.

  "So this feast," he said quietly.

  "Is them eating years of some noble's life. Yeah." Fenric smiled darkly. "Tastes pretty good, doesn't it?"

  Hmmm beast you sure know so much about this for someone who don't have nothing to do with it.

  Fenric turned, shock flickering across his face. "Huh? Oh. Yeah. Of course, you know... I like to read. So... that's why." He cleared his throat quickly. "Now, enough chatting. Start drinking."

  Clang.

  Their mugs met.

  Meanwhile, on the quiet industrial market road, two figures walked side by side.

  "So what did the mechanic say?" Rhanes asked.

  "It needs a lot of time. Minimal parts available. Lots of work." Ella's voice was flat.

  "I see. Too bad."

  "No." Ella's jaw tightened. "It's my fault, and I deserve it. I became narrow-minded, seeking to prove myself. It became an obsession. I did something stupid by killing Morvane, and now the people here are drowning in happiness, not knowing the consequences it will leave."

  Rhanes stopped walking. "I told you not to worry. We'll take care of it. Don't underestimate our town." He turned to face her. "You do what you have to do. You planned to go back to Euneim, right?"

  "Yeah, but leaving the chaos I created—no. It's my mistake, and I have to correct it."

  "Ella. Look at me."

  She turned.

  You have a much bigger problem than this. You left your group. "Before the Dragonbloods come looking for you, you'd better confront them. Go back to Euneim. I'll take care of the tall forest problem."

  "Did Lyven contact you about my whereabouts?"

  Rhanes didn't respond, offering only a stern look.

  "Damn it, he just won't give up."

  "He won't, and that's exactly why you must confront him," Rhanes replied. "You know how he is—that stubborn leader of your group."

  "Not my group. Not anymore."

  "Hm... but tell me, why did you leave? The name 'Dragonbloods' echoes all around these lands, yet you just walked away. Is it because of Ravmor?"

  "Master, you know everything," his apprentice sighed. "When you sent me off after the Ravmor feast, you actually knew something wasn't right, didn't you? Hah... why do you ask when you already know?"

  "No reason. I just wanted a confirmation, that's all."

  "Hmph."

  Rhanes turned away, his tone final. "Regardless. You take care of your problem, and I will take care of mine."

  Ella sighed. "Hm. Just so you know, I don't like this."

  "Of course."

  Clouds covered the moon as they walked back toward the feast.

  "So," Rhanes began, "for the main question."

  "Hm?"

  "Are you going to recruit Kuro to Euneim?"

  Silence.

  "...Master, are you worried I'll take your best prospect out of this town?"

  "Actually," Rhanes said quietly, "I want you to take him. His potential will be wasted here."

  "Hm..." Ella studied his profile. "Master? Do you know something about Kuro that I don't?"

  Rhanes's expression was unreadable.

  "Maybe."