The rest of the group stepped outside, gathering around Rose.

“Where’s Indigo?” Sakura looked around before turning to Rose.

Rose stared at the ground. She was lost in a daze, her thoughts tangled in two opposing forces. Part of her was consumed by guilt, by the ache of wanting to comfort Indigo but knowing she couldn't. The weight of his turmoil pressed into her chest, heavy and unshakable. The other part was something she couldn’t quite grasp.

“Rose.”

Sakura’s stern voice made Rose snap back to reality, grounding her in the process. “Oh—sorry.” She looked up at Sakura and frowned. “He said he needed to be alone, so he rode ahead.”

Sakura nodded, “At least he’s safe. And I’m glad you’re alright.” She lifted her hand and stopped, remembering that Rose didn’t like being touched.

Rose smiled, “Thank you.”

Oscar watched their interaction, his gaze lingering on Rose. His expression was unreadable, but inside, he knew—he wanted her. The quiet ache sat in his chest, unspoken, uncertain. He wasn’t sure how to say it. He did know he would do anything to protect her.

Mahou waved the three of them over. “Let’s catch up with Indigo. We need to get to Floria today.”

They mounted their horses and set off, following Mahou’s lead as they rode through the town.

By the time they regrouped, Indigo had regained his composure. With everyone together, they pressed on.

Sakura fixed her eyes on the horizon, the distant city silhouetted against the fading light. The rhythmic beat of the horses’ hooves against the earth should have been grounding, a steady pulse beneath her—yet her thoughts churned, restless and tangled.  

The weight of responsibility sat heavily on her shoulders, pressing deeper with every mile. She wasn’t afraid of what awaited them, but something was unsettling about the journey itself—something unspoken.  

She adjusted her grip on the reins, feeling the cool leather against her fingers. The air carried the scent of earth and distant rain, crisp but charged, as if the sky knew this wasn’t just another ride.  

A voice cut through the quiet.  

“Sakura, you’re unusually quiet.”  

Mahou’s tone was thoughtful, his gaze steady as he rode beside her. There was no accusation—just observation, a quiet understanding.  

She glanced toward him, considering brushing it off with a hollow assurance that everything was fine.  

But it wasn’t.  

She exhaled through her nose, rolling her shoulders slightly. “Just thinking.”  

It wasn’t a lie.  

She was thinking about the city, the mission, the faces waiting beyond the city's gates. And something else.  

Something she hadn’t put into words yet.  

What was the true purpose of this mission?  

Sakura couldn’t piece it together. No matter how much she turned it over in her mind, the answer remained just out of reach. She had no choice but to push it aside for now. Tshering’s plan stirred countless questions, each one lingering in the depths of her thoughts.

She pondered whether she should trust Tshering or not. She’d been alive for over 200 years, and Tshering had never spoken to her before. It didn’t make sense.

Sakura was puzzled throughout the trip, mentally mapping out every aspect of the situation. She fidgeted with her wedding ring while holding the horse's reins. She needed to talk to Irese about this. He knew the most about suspicious situations like this.

The journey to Floria passed swiftly, their horses carrying the group at a steady, disciplined pace as the city came into view. The mounts, well-trained and resilient, kept them from needing another rest, their hooves drumming a rhythm that matched the riders’ focus on the destination ahead. As they approached, the distant silhouettes sharpened into grand stone palaces, bustling marketplaces, and narrow streets lined with workshops and vendors. Towering above the city, elegant towers and domed churches stood as testaments to the Republic’s wealth and influence. The air was thick with the scent of fresh bread, molten iron, and parchment—a city alive with trade, politics, and artistry

After a few minutes, they entered the city’s gate, and the towering silhouette of the library came into view, its dark stone walls standing like a sentinel against the shifting light of the afternoon. The carvings along its exterior shimmered faintly as the group approached, ancient runes pulsing in recognition of their presence.

Indigo slowed his pace, his gaze locked onto the entrance. The scent was unmistakable now—Eustace was here.

Mahou pulled his horse to a stop near the courtyard, dismounting with practiced ease. "This is it." His voice carried a hint of something deeper—reverence, perhaps, but there was also an edge to it.

Sakura studied the library’s towering structure, her gaze lingering on the fountain in the courtyard. The water was unnaturally still, the air around them heavy, as if something had disrupted the usual order of things.

Rose swung off her horse and stepped forward to join Indigo, who had gone quiet. His fingers hovered near the reins, tense—not just from anticipation, but from something else.

Oscar remained a step behind, his gaze lingering on Rose before shifting toward the grand doors. "Something’s wrong," he murmured, keeping his voice low.

Indigo exhaled sharply, pressing forward, his footsteps quick and deliberate as he moved toward the entrance. He knew where to go—but this time, there was a different urgency in his stride. He went straight inside.

As the group dismounted, Rose turned to Sakura, eyes narrowing.
"You feel it too, don’t you?"

Sakura didn’t answer right away. She did feel it—the unsettling presence hanging over the library, a disturbance in the air.

Then, distant and muffled, a noise from within.
Someone else was inside.

Sakura glanced at the group, her expression steady. "Indigo’s already in. I’m going next. If something's wrong, I'm the fastest—I can handle it."

Mahou gave a firm nod. "Be careful."

She smirked, gripping the hilt of her curved blade. "Always am, Dad."

She slipped through the entrance with measured steps, eyes scanning the dim interior. Tension hung in the air as she focused, trying to sense the presence of the intruders lurking within.

Indigo was already moving through the shadows, his stance alert, intercepting one of the attackers with a swift strike. His movements were precise, controlled—but he knew Sakura would be the one to turn the tide.

Sakura moved further into the library, her senses sharp, catching the distinct presence of three humans and one inhuman aura—Eustace. Something was wrong.

She barely had time to process the disruption before she turned swiftly, her grip locking around the wrist of one of the intruders. The man tensed, his eyes wide with shock—but Sakura wasn’t focused on him.

She darted forward, disarming one opponent with a twist and knocking another off balance with a low sweep. Indigo kept her flank clear, deflecting a thrown blade and pinning its wielder with a burst of kinetic force.

Her gaze snapped downward.

In his hand, the Crimson Fang, its cursed blade slick with fresh blood.

Eustace had been struck.

Rage boiled beneath her skin, but Sakura didn’t falter. With a sharp twist, she wrenched the intruder’s wrist back, forcing him to release the weapon. It clattered against the floor, the silver veins pulsing ominously.

The other two lunged.

Sakura ducked, sliding under their reach before striking out—a precise kick sent one staggering backward, while she pivoted and slammed the hilt of her blade into the second’s ribs. A sharp gasp. A stumble. But no mercy.

The first attacker, recovering quickly, reached for the fallen Crimson Fang—but Sakura was faster. She snatched the blade mid-motion, flipping it in her grasp before turning it against them.

The air was thick with tension as she deflected a wild strike, side-stepping and driving her knee into the gut of the nearest intruder. He collapsed, choking on the force of the impact.

The last man hesitated. Too slow.

Sakura moved in a blur, her hand scythe flashing from her belt to crack against his wrist, sending the dagger spinning away. In the same motion she slipped behind him, locked his arms, and drove him hard to the ground.

Silence.

Three intruders—alive but incapacitated, their breath ragged, their limbs aching from the force of her blows.

Sakura pressed the tip of her curved blade against the stone floor, her breath steady despite the anger coursing through her. She narrowed her gaze at the one closest to her, the one who had held the Crimson Fang.

“Who sent you?”

The man coughed, wincing as he attempted to sit up. His face twisted with frustration. “We don’t know. Just a job.”

Sakura’s grip tightened. “You expect me to believe that?”

Another, younger than the rest, shook his head. “It’s the truth. Someone paid us—dropped the blade in our hands, told us to find Eustace and put steel in him.” He swallowed hard. “We didn’t ask questions.”

Sakura’s eyes flickered to the weapon. The Crimson Fang wasn’t something anyone could just “find.” It was a cursed blade—designed for a specific purpose.

Her voice was low, controlled. “Where did you meet your employer?”

Silence. The men exchanged uneasy glances.

Finally, the third intruder, his voice rasping, answered. “A tavern near the river. No name, just gold in hand and instructions.” He looked at her warily. “We didn’t know who Eustace was. Just a name. Just a target.”

Sakura exhaled sharply, her patience thinning. She studied them, weighing her options. They were mercenaries—disposable, unaware of the larger forces at play. They weren’t the true threat.

She stepped back, withdrawing her blade. “Get out,” she said coldly. “If I ever see you again, you won’t walk away so easily.”

The men scrambled to their feet, their fear outweighing their pride. Within moments, they were gone, vanishing into the streets beyond the library.

Sakura turned to Eustace, her expression hardening. This wasn’t just an attack. Someone had planned this. And now, she had a trail to follow.

She walked outside, letting the others in.

Mahou rushed inside and dropped to his knees, pulling Eustace into his arms. “Hey- it's ok. You will be fine. You just need–blood.” The realization hit him. Saikan blood was not meant to be consumed. It was intoxicating. It wasn’t from this world. “Indigo, get me the animal blood.”

Eustace shook his head, “No–it won't be enough.”

Mahou looked at him, “So what? Find a human for you? Eustace, you stopped drinking human blood because you couldn’t control yourself!” worry was consuming Mahou.

Eustace coughed up blood, “no- no humans. I know you are against it, but–it should be one of you guys' blood.”

Mahou pinched his nose bridge, “Eustace, I have no idea what that will do to you.”

Oscar looked between them, then cleared his throat. “My blood is normal- just elven. I could help”

Rose rested her hand on Oscar’s shoulder. “That would be too much blood to take from you.”

Mahou steadied himself, his thoughts settling into a firm decision. Taking Sakura’s dagger, he pressed the blade against his wrist, drawing a thin line of blue blood. Without hesitation, he brought it to Eustace’s lips.

Eustace latched on instantly, his grip tight, his breath sharp. But this wasn’t controlled—it was ravenous. His body trembled as he drank, his movements no longer deliberate but primal, consumed by hunger he couldn’t restrain.

Mahou’s expression remained steady, but his muscles tensed as Eustace devoured the offered blood, his fingers digging into Mahou’s arm with unsettling force.

“Sakura,” Mahou murmured, not taking his eyes off him. “Be ready.”

Eustace didn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. His instincts had overtaken him, and the hunger was winning.

Eustace was healing with every drop of blood he drank. But he was taking too much. It didn’t affect Mahou, but he needed to stop. Mahou waved his hand at Sakura.

She sprang into action, grabbing Eustace’s arms and pulling hard, forcing him away. He resisted at first, his grip tightening, but the shock of separation jolted him. His breath was ragged, lips stained dark blue with Mahou’s blood as he stumbled back, his eyes wild and unfocused.

For a long moment, Eustace didn’t speak. His chest heaved, his fingers twitching slightly as if the hunger still lingered in his bones. Then, realization settled in—the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like stone.

His gaze flickered to Mahou, then to Sakura, shame overtaking the haze of his instincts.

“I—” His voice was hoarse, strained. “I lost control.”

Sakura didn’t let go immediately, waiting until she was certain he wouldn’t lunge again. When she finally released him, Eustace ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily.

“I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, but heavy.

Mahou, unbothered by the blood he had given, reached out without hesitation, placing a hand on Eustace’s face, fingers threading gently through his hair. His touch was steady, firm—a reminder that Eustace wasn’t alone.

“You’re here. You’re safe.” Mahou’s voice was soft, reassuring, his thumb brushing over Eustace’s cheek, grounding him.

Eustace closed his eyes briefly, leaning into the touch, as though trying to anchor himself in Mahou’s presence. For centuries, Mahou had been the one constant, and in this moment—his body aching, his mind fraying—Eustace wanted nothing more than to lose himself in him.

Mahou tilted his head slightly, pressing their foreheads together. His warmth seeped into Eustace, quieting the remnants of hunger that still clawed at him.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Mahou murmured, voice like a tether keeping him from unraveling.

Eustace exhaled, his hands finally finding their way to Mahou’s arms, holding him tightly, as if afraid to let go.

The hunger was gone. But the longing, the need to feel this closeness, remained.

And Mahou didn’t pull away.

Sakura finally exhaled, lowering her blade. The tension still clung to her, but they were safe—that was what mattered.

Mahou offered a small smile. “I had it under control.”

Sakura scoffed, shaking her head before turning to Eustace. The fear had faded, but the worry lingered.

“You scared me,” she admitted, gripping his shoulder.

Eustace met her gaze, guilt flickering. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” She gave a firm nod, releasing him.

They weren’t out of danger—but for now, they were together.