"I will depart at the first break of dawn tomorrow." Kurian made his decision without hesitation. He reached for his Terminal and produced a berry confit.
"Here is what I promised," he said, handing the confit to Sanhua before turning to leave — only for Rover to suddenly grab his arm.
She then looked toward Sanhua and asked, "I have questions about the tokens."
Though slightly puzzled, Sanhua nodded. "With pleasure. What is it you wish to know about them?"
"I can ask for help figuring them out, right?" Rover pressed, prompting Sanhua to glance at Kurian with a troubled expression, who, in turn, wore an easy, almost leisurely smile.
Understanding her worries, Kurian interjected. "I believe you've gotten the wrong idea here, Lady."
With a simple flick of his wrist, he freed himself from Rover's grip and continued, "I'm a mercenary. I don't offer help unless I'm being paid. Besides..."
He gave Sanhua a brief look before finishing, "Those tokens little Sanhua handed you were given by her Magistrate specifically for you. If I were to assist, it would be a breach of both contract and trust."
"So you do know what these tokens are meant to represent?" Rover asked with a raised brow.
"Before I answer that..." Kurian extended his hand toward her, palm open and expectant. "... Pay up."
"…"
Rover stayed quiet, for she had no credits on her.
Kurian, meanwhile, only smiled before saying, "If you can offer even a single credit, I'll give you one piece of information about the tokens."
"…" Rover remained silent, already regretting tossing away the one credit she had earned earlier in a moment of temper.
Kurian, fully aware she was broke, decided to mention Chixia as he remarked, "Your red-haired friend understands the value of making each credit count. Perhaps you could learn something from her."
"…" Rover kept her silence, having considered the same thought herself — asking her friends for assistance.
She swallowed a sigh, knowing she had let an opportunity slip through her fingers, though she couldn't help but wonder, 'Isn't there anything I can get from this man?'
She knew the person standing before her was highly perceptive, almost certainly holding valuable insight about the tokens.
But what he had just said — about breach of contract and trust — was also undeniable.
Just when she felt there truly was nothing left for her to gain from him, Kurian offered the cherry confit jar one last time.
In an almost mechanical manner, Rover's arm reached towards the jar, deciding to accept it as a substitute for the information she had failed to obtain.
"By the way..." Kurian turned to Sanhua and asked, "Is there any blacksmiths around here? I need to repair Shi (死) — my sword."
"There should be one close to the Hanxu Academy," Sanhua recommended.
"Uh-huh," Kurian nodded, stretching his limbs before releasing a lazy yawn. "I just hope there isn't another crowd gathered outside the City Hall."
"Honestly," he continued with another languid yawn, "opening the gates early for the upcoming festival while announcing the arrival of a special guest..."
Arching his body to his sides, he added, "... the marketing push for drawing distant visitors to Jinzhou's famed Moon-Chasing Festival is quite something this year."
"—!!?" Rover's ears twitched at his seemingly offhand remark. She glanced at him, catching the brief look he sent her way before he made his exit from the hall.
"Hmm." Rover's lips curved ever so slightly as a thought surfaced in her mind. 'He isn't as heartless as he pretends to be.'
Rover already had a faint suspicion about why Jinzhou would publicize the arrival of a "special guest," especially now, when the city gates were about to open for travelers from distant regions for the Moon Chasing Festival.
At first, those doubts lacked solid footing, but now, Kurian's offhand remark sealed it. Rover pieced the logic together with quiet clarity: 'They're trying to lure out other enemies aside from the Tacet Discords plaguing the Norfall Barrens.'
Seemingly content, Rover continued to ask Sanhua several questions about the Magistrate and the city of Jinzhou before finally venturing into a personal topic. "Can you tell me about Sir Kurian?"
"Hmm…" Sanhua took a moment to ponder before answering. "Sir Kurian… as much as many portray him as a man defined by focus, commitment, and sheer will, that isn't quite how I see him."
"Is there a reason for that bias?" Rover asked, to which Sanhua nodded.
"On a personal level, I owe Sir Kurian a debt I can never repay. He once saved both me and the Magistrate," she said softly.
"Moreover," she continued, her eyes dimming at the memory of a grim past, "it was by his intervention that the Information Guild didn't end up toppling every major power in the world."
"The Information Guild?" Rover repeated, as Sanhua's eyes darkened while she spoke of a legendary campaign that had nearly brought the global order to ruin.
"When the Guild Master, Eden, was consumed by the ambition of conquering Solaris III," Sanhua explained, "it was at Sir Kurian's behest that the leader of the Ghost Hounds rose against the Information Guild."
"It became a battle of brute strength versus pure intellect — Eden's unparalleled cunning clashing with the overwhelming firepower of the Ghost Hounds," she said, a faint hint of relief threading through her voice.
"Because of that clash between two long-standing allies, the Guild Master was finally pacified from his fury." Sanhua exhaled slowly.
Every time she recalled the hoarding and predatory dominance of the Information Guild, a shiver rippled down her spine; they were like a ravenous beast devouring everything in its path.
"All in all, thanks to that clash — and to the guild master Eden finally calming down — the world of Solaris III wasn't shaken too severely, but..." Sanhua's eyes knitted slightly.
"But what?" Rover pressed.
"Recently, the Information Guild has been far too quiet, or rather..." Sanhua explained, "... they've been shutting themselves down, almost as if they're being abandoned."
"Though it has been a rumor for the past two years, I fear it may no longer be just a rumor," Sanhua whispered.
"Which is?" Rover asked.
"The Information Guild has formally renounced its status as a major faction of Solaris III."
Just then, someone burst into the room, panting heavily. Sanhua frowned at the blatant discourtesy.
"Impudence!" she scolded sharply.
Though beneath her stern tone, she was struggling to contain the shock stirred by the news this informant carried.
"My sincerest apologies, Lady Sanhua... hah..." Still panting, the informant raised her terminal, and a figure appeared... a recorded message... no... it a live transmission, for a sweeping mountain range stretched out behind the man.
As for the man himself, he appeared tall and slender, carrying himself with a poised, aged confidence.
His dark hair, neatly tousled, framed a face partly obscured by small, round, dark-tinted monocle that lent him an air of composed enigma.
His expression remained calm and restrained, a seriousness mirrored by the immaculate layers of his attire: a cream white three-piece suit with a dark cravat, all beneath a sweeping white coat richly edged in gold and topped with a weighty, dark fur collar.
Black fitted trousers and polished dark shoes grounded the ensemble, while white gloves, ornate gold detailing at his shoulders, and a dark cane capped with intricate metalwork completed the image of a refined, commanding person — dressed with impeccable, almost otherworldly elegance.
"Is he?" Rover asked, and Sanhua, tense with apprehension, gave a small nod.
The man's bearing alone radiated unrest — a kind of elegant anarchy — and every time Sanhua laid eyes on him, he appeared warped by a peculiar distortion.
Restless and steeped in a simmering malice, Eden's presence radiated a contained threat — possessing three heads and six arms — as he maintained the rough outline of a human.
Even so, Sanhua believed without hesitation that he was perhaps the most dangerous man in all of Solaris III.
Holding their breath, every major faction across Solaris III watched the live broadcast as the man began to speak.
"I once wandered the slums, wishfully dreaming of a good life."
He recounted a story of his youth — of drifting through those alleys alone, clinging to the fantasy of something better. "... Until one day, I came upon a peculiar fellow hiding his face inside a basket."
"He looked terrified, muttering over and over, 'I am a basket, I am a basket,' as if he desperately wished the world would see him as nothing more." A faint smile touched Eden's lips before he continued, "… Yet fate had its own designs."
"I later encountered a few loan sharks searching for that same man," Eden said, still wearing that thin smile. "Naturally, I told them where he was — and in return, I received a pouch of shell credits."
"As for the man..." Eden spoke with a chilling indifference, "... he died."
"Seeing his body hanging there, my mind went utterly blank, and I felt absolutely nothing..." he continued, voice cold and vacant. "All I thought was, 'Oh, he died.'"
"Truly, there wasn't even the faintest sliver of sympathy in me for the dead — maybe because I hold none for myself either." Eden's smile faltered.
"All I ever hoped for was a life steeped in comfort and indulgence," he murmured, drawing a single credit from his pocket and rolling it between his fingers.
The faint clink of metal carried his quiet confession as he added, "Something akin to the ease and luxury those born into wealthy families enjoy without effort."
"Haah, but who cares," Eden cut off his own drifting recollection before remarking, "I'm well aware no one has any interest in this old tale carrying no importance."
"Just as unimportant," he went on, "as how every nation and faction treats their so-called essential documents — so carelessly that all of them were lifted right from under their noses and stacked atop that mountain range." Eden pointed towards the range, and the eyes of everyone tuned into the broadcast widened in shock.
To be continued...