Jack Smith hesitated, taken aback by the abrupt change in conversation. However, he reasoned that since the person was concerned about the identity and status of Lord Newton, they must be alive. He replied, "Lord David Newton of the Newton Manor is a significant figure in our nation, knighted for his military achievements."

Both Lord Newton and Andrew were indeed real individuals. Andrew was his associate, but not a relative.

"Just how significant?" Lily Bennett asked. "Who did he defeat?"

Jack Smith was even more puzzled, though the question wasn't one he couldn't answer. "Lord Newton quelled rebellions in Jackson, Adams, and Thompson. A feat of considerable accomplishment."

Lily Bennett nodded. Good, she could confirm this was a historical fiction. However, it meant her previously known information was obsolete. Sticking to her initial plan, she intended to gather intel in the nearby town.

With that in mind, she retrieved the purses from the fallen black-clad men, combining their contents and weighing the coins. She asked Jack, "Is this sufficient?"

Jack Smith hesitated, unable to provide an immediate answer but quickly devised a plan. "Miss, are you short on funds?"

"Indeed." Lily Bennett, maintaining her composure, pocketed the coins. "Would you consider rewarding me for saving your life?"

Jack Smith chose his words carefully. "I don’t have much on me either, but if you escort me back to Newton Manor, I will reward you generously."

Since the goal was regicide, it was impossible to assume this was the only attempt. There had to be a well-coordinated plan. These assassins were just the first wave; there could be more. As someone with only moderate martial skills, Jack knew he couldn't face spearheaded warrior-training death squads alone.

Despite her mysterious aura, the young lady before him hadn't shown any villainous tendencies. Whether she had any personal motives, appealing to her with a reward seemed like a prudent strategy.

"I would offer you a thousand gold coins as payment, does that suffice?"

Lily Bennett eyed him thoughtfully. This Andrew, regardless of whether he belonged to the Newton family, clearly came from affluence and likely wouldn't renounce his word. "Agreed, but I don't want money. Instead, you must do something for me."

Jack Smith frowned. "What do you require?"

"Relax, I only need you to investigate something—it isn’t an unreasonable request, is it?"

Jack Smith deliberated for a moment, realizing there must be more to her presence in the wilderness. He nodded. "Very well."

"Good," Lily Bennett responded. "But I am unfamiliar with the routes. Where are we exactly?"

Jack Smith fetched two horses. "I'm not entirely certain. I fled here; however, this location isn't far from Washington. We should reach there before dawn."

Lily Bennett suspected it wasn’t so straightforward but chose not to probe further, opting instead to contemplate the silken cord around her wrist, envisioning it obliterating evidence of the event.

The red string, seemingly aware of her thoughts, burst into flame, igniting the five bodies, quickly reducing them to smoldering cinders.

Lily Bennett mused, observing: "This world undoubtedly holds mystical elements! Such rapid incineration defies physical laws."

She glanced sideways at Jack Smith, who masked his shock by lowering his eyes. "You appear akin to a practitioner of the arcane arts, miss."

Lily Bennett chuckled. "Sounds like you’ve encountered such things before?"

"Only heard tales."

When the former president was in power and wished to see his deceased beloved again, wanderers flaunting wizardry boasted of rainmaking and spirit communication and claimed to be impervious to weapons. Most barely conjured parlor tricks, unlike Lily Bennett's display.

Fully aware, Jack Smith signals to their departure. He flourished his whip, directing them toward Washington. An experienced rider, Lily Bennett quickly adjusted to keep pace.

The horses kicked up a billowing dust cloud as they sped away from the desolate forest. 

***

As dawn broke softly, people attempting to enter the city formed a long queue outside the gates. On a typical day, this would coincide with the time the gates would open. However, today, despite the crowd's anticipation, the gates remained firmly shut.

Food vendors, prepared for the delay, set up impromptu stands. Pancake sellers flip their goods sizzling hot, alongside dumpling and bun vendors, as the savory scents hung in the crisp morning air.

Having sold pancakes in town for years, Old Joseph and his son rose early, preparing batter and soy milk for the day's trade. Normally, they’d enter the city just in time to fire up their griddles.

Despite today’s delay, they'd fired up their stove for warmth, deciding instead to trade outside. The duo quickly attracted customers, eager for a warm pancake and a steaming cup of soy milk.

The business was good, pancakes scarcely gracing the griddle before being sold.

"I’ll take a soy milk,” asked a young woman. Old Joseph deftly filled a cup and handed it over, at last getting a proper look at her—she looked like a fine young lady from a well-to-do household.

A bit unrefined in her actions, she gulped the drink from the crude ceramic bowl, wiping her lips with her sleeve. "Give me five pancakes."

Old Joseph wrapped her order in oiled paper. "Ten cents in total."

The cost was less than Lily Bennett anticipated. She dropped ten coins into his palm and casually queried, "Why are the gates still closed?"

Such beauty attracted eager helpers. A man enjoying his wontons nearby eagerly replied, "Heard a noble got injured, and the entire city is sealed. No one allowed in."

"Then why hasn’t anyone left?" Lily asked.

"Neither entry nor exit allowed," he chuckled at her ignorance. "In case of escape."

Unperturbed by his tone, she further inquired, "When will they open?"

Old Joseph piped up, "Hard to say. Could be by noon, or it might linger."

"Guess I’ll return another day," Lily Bennett mused, taking her pancakes' warmth as consolation.

She returned to their temporary stop, berating the food’s coldness before handing Jack Smith his portion. “Eat up, something to stave off the hunger.”

The coarse, grainy texture made Jack Smith chew two bites before he gave it up. "What did you learn?"

An hour prior, they’d reached the city perimeter. The gate’s closure raised his suspicion, prompting a return to their interim base while Lily stayed behind, purchasing breakfast and prodding for information.

“They say a noble’s injury sealed the city—searching the stabber,” she summarized.

Jack Smith felt an immediate weight upon hearing. He anticipated immediate, quiet disclosure suppression with covert searches. Open disclosure and public gates closing—this was unprecedented. He could remain disguised only among the uninformed—not within his inner circle aware of the disguise. Why such exposure unless...

It was not recklessly motivated revenge but a calibrated coup.

Previously, he'd suspected ex-president supporters were behind the attempted assassination, but with the ex-president out, any vendetta could only be personal. Furthermore, who stepped into a presidential vacancy now?

Two uncles and one brother had motives. But which of them? Whoever it was, venturing into the city would be like marching into a trap.

Lily Bennett broke the pancake into pieces as she asked, “So, knowing this, do you still intend to enter?”

Jack Smith shook his head, contemplation crossing his expression. "I must visit Peace Temple."

"A temple?"

"Yes."

Expecting her inquiries, Jack Smith prepared himself, but Lily Bennett issued a simple, "Alright."

As they traveled, Jack briefed Lily on the significance of Peace Temple. 

About thirty years prior, the then-president had a brother, a duke actually, who was his twin in bloodline. Despite an abundance of power and wealth, the duke was captivated with a lover who tragically passed. Heartbroken, he turned to monastic life. Unable to sway his brother’s choice, the president established the Peace Temple. Years passed, and the temple broadened in repute, synonymous with sacred offerings from prosperous and influential visitors.

Lily Bennett recalled a pertinent detail: "Isn't Peace Temple in the direction we first came?"

Jack paused, eventually affirming, "It is."

The roads to return home and to the temple diverged. Her inquiry assured she discerned his prior claims were misleading.

Expecting confrontation, he was instead surprised by a nuanced glance of understanding as she let silence linger.

Jack Smith averted, setting his gaze elsewhere.

By the time the sun bathed the land thoroughly, they reached Peace Temple. Important figures had yet to arrive, but servants had already crowded in preparation for ceremonies, arranging sedan chairs or seizing a break with breakfast.

Jack spotted the commotion, and with a brief consideration, suggested, “Let’s take the back route.”

Lily Bennett agreed, aware few nobles could enforce a city's lockdown, even her scant insights defined a rough framework.

“Are you sure it’s secure here?” she questioned, observing the temple alongside him.

Jack guided them expertly via a secluded trail, evading attention altogether. "It should be safe."

“Then, I’ll wait here," she declared, halting at the compound’s boundary. "I’ll just roam a bit."

Jack Smith, nodding, reminded, “Do avoid wandering carelessly—too many important presences to offend.”

“Understood.”

Waiting for assuring calm to resonate following Jack’s entry, Lily Bennett departed, mindful of her hypothesis.

At the city gate’s breakfast congregation, she’d surveyed townsfolk; most bore rough skin with hempen and flaxen garments. In contrast, officials manning the gates donned cotton, hinting the societal productivity mirrored eras familiar to her.

Comparatively, her appearance aligned with wealth, uncharacteristic of ordinary walks. Women with privilege rarely left their estates, except...

Except for temple duties.

With Peace Temple so proximate to her awakening site, suspicion mounted; perhaps her arrival accompanied a family or group, escaping to the mountains due to misfortune.

Should her theory hold ground, clues awaited.

Tracking a young blue-clad maid in the distance, Lily Bennett set off down the temple road, intent on verifying her assumptions.