"Joe... I'll accept whatever you decide, son."

  Those words echoed in Joe's mind as he woke, scratching his head and arms. Even after a long rest, fatigue clung to him. Memories stirred, but he pushed them aside while getting ready for the day ahead.

  Leaving the inn, he headed toward the centre of the capital. The towers, as grand as ever, still drew his eye, despite how many times he'd seen them.

  He found a bench near the garden and sat, staring at the ground. The memories weighed on him, threatening to darken his mood, but he fought to stay focused.

  After ten minutes, a young man he’d met the previous day approached, bowing his head apologetically. "Sorry I’m late, I got—"

  "No need to explain," Joe interrupted. "In my line of work, being late is better than being found dead in an alley."

  The young man smiled. "Ready to go?"

  Joe nodded. "Yeah, let’s move."

  As they walked toward the south entrance of the city, the young man remarked, "It’s quite a journey just to get across the capital."

  Joe nodded in agreement. "This city is massive—bigger than any other capital in any kingdom on this continent."

  The young man nodded, then asked, "You said you’re meeting a friend here. Who is he? You didn’t have time to say much last time."

  Joe kept his eyes ahead. "Sorry about that. I was exhausted, frustrated. I ran into an old friend I wanted to settle things with, but ended up tangling with his daughter instead. It wasn’t exactly pleasant."

  The young man gave a thoughtful nod. "I get it. No need to apologize. I’ve got your back, and I know you’ve got mine."

  Joe continued, "My friend’s a bit eccentric, so don’t push him with too many questions or say anything disrespectful. He’ll put you in your place real quick if you do. Understood, Jogo?"

  Jogo grinned. "Of course. You know me—I don’t speak unless I have to."

  Joe glanced at him. "One more thing—he’s a demon. Don’t let that throw you."

  Jogo smiled knowingly. "I already figured that out. I’ve gathered enough information."

  Joe’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jogo, silently wondering how he’d come to know that without asking.

  Catching Joe’s look, Jogo shrugged. "There were rumours after the ghouls' attack. Two merchants fought bravely, but there wasn’t much said about the demon. Only one name stood out—'The Honest One.' That’s you."

  Joe listened carefully as Jogo continued, "Your father took pride in seeing you reclaim your honour and reputation in such a big way."

  Joe sighed mockingly, then turned his attention back to the entrance. Jogo, trying to lighten the mood, suggested, "Want to climb the walls? We could spot your friend from up there, and the view's great."

  Joe glanced at the guards stationed along the walls, hesitating. "They won't let us through. We—"

  "They’ll let us," Jogo interrupted with confidence.

  Joe sighed, waving him off. "Alright, you go ahead."

  Jogo nodded and confidently approached the leader of the guards, engaging in conversation. Joe waited, watching from a distance until Jogo signalled him to follow.

  Soon, they stood atop the wall. Jogo glanced over at Joe. "Afraid of heights?"

  Joe shook his head, eyes fixed on the bustling scene below—carriages and merchants flowing in and out of the southern gate. "Life on the road wears you down. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being afraid of most things."

  Jogo gave a thoughtful nod, then looked at Joe with a more serious expression. "Have you ever killed anyone? Do you carry regrets about anyone you've killed?"

  Joe’s face darkened, his voice heavy with weariness. "I regret hurting that guy in Cerulea City... breaking his knees. Then there was the woman I beat up not too long ago. And... the young goblin I killed in Daekrahm City... I can’t shake it off."."

  Jogo nodded, sensing Joe’s inner conflict, and gently pressed, "But why? Were they evil? I know you wouldn’t harm a person unless there was a reason. Why did you do it?"

  "I don't know," Joe replied, irritation creeping into his voice. "It's been putting me in a bad mood lately, so just drop the questions."

  Jogo backed off, nodding in understanding. "Of course. Just... know your father is proud of you. I thought you should hear that."

  Joe let out a bitter chuckle. "He wouldn't even look at me. Proud? That's a stretch. He’s probably just pleased I got mixed up with the ghouls."

  Sensing the shift in Joe’s mood, Jogo wisely fell silent, choosing not to push further.

  The two stared down the road. Jogo waited for Yory, Joe's friend—a demon Joe often spoke highly of. Meanwhile, Joe was deep in thought, recalling what he considered the worst years of his life.

  Back at Gostave's house, Jeffrey, Rhothomir, and Bot were in the middle of a meeting.

  With a sigh, Jeffrey asked, "What's your proposal? I'm listening."

  Bot smiled and began, "This region is poor, mismanaged, and in disarray, largely because of the noble family Zafa and Zok, who perished during the village's dark night. The kingdom will send another noble family to take control, but they're not known for their kindness. Still, the region can't stay leaderless."

  Jeffrey nodded as Bot pressed on. "This is where you come in. The region needs a hometown hero, someone who understands the people's struggles, someone they already know and trust. You, Jeffrey Gostave, are that hero. You've saved Rhothomir, rescued members of various noble families, and gained the support of those who want to help you rise in power, or at least stay on your good side when times are tough. Do you see it?"

  Jeffrey's thoughts drifted to all the lives he'd saved during the war, but the painful memory of his failure to save Edmund loomed over him. He turned back to Bot, voicing his hesitation. "But governing a region requires nobility. I'm just a commoner."

  Bot's face grew serious as he approached the most delicate part of his plan. Looking straight at Jeffrey, he said, "By marrying a noblewoman—my daughter, Evangeline."

  Jeffrey's eyes widened in disbelief. His face flushed with anger as he shot back at Bot, his voice seething with fury. "DO YOU THINK I'M SOME KIND OF FILTH BEFORE YOU?"

  He turned to Rhothomir, shouting, "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, RHOTHOMIR? I WELCOME YOU INTO MY HOUSE, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME!?"

  Jeffrey hurled his cup aside and stood abruptly, clutching his purple arm in frustration. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, BOTH OF YOU!" he shouted.

  Rhothomir started to rise, but Bot grabbed his arm, forcing him back into his seat. Fixing his gaze on Jeffrey, Bot commanded sternly, "Sit down, Jeffrey. We're not done here."

  Seething with anger, Jeffrey grabbed the table and flipped it over with one hand, roaring, "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! GET OUT!"

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  Bot stood, his face flushed with irritation. "AN ENTIRE REGION RESTS ON YOUR SHOULDERS, AND YOU SHOUT AT ME? DAMN YOUR STUBBORNNESS!"

  Jeffrey stormed toward the door, still fuming. "LEAVE MY HOUSE!"

  Determined, Bot followed, yelling, "NO! YOU WILL HEAR ME OUT!"

  Rhothomir quickly stepped between them to prevent a fight, but the exchange of curses and raised voices drowned out any hope for reason.

  Eventually, after the tempers cooled, the three men sat in uneasy silence. It was Bot who finally broke it, speaking in a grave tone. "The Missandei family, the nobles who seek control of this region, are merchants at their core. Profit comes before anything. Yes, they'll build cities and markets, but it’ll come at a high cost. They’ll exploit everything—your labour, your resources, your livelihood. They won’t hesitate if they see a chance to enrich themselves."

  Jeffrey turned to Bot, his expression hardened. "Why me? What makes me so important that you'd want me to marry your daughter?"

  Bot sighed deeply, the weight of the conversation evident as his professional mask slipped. "My daughter, Evangeline, is 30 now. No one wants to marry her. Her reputation for being arrogant and difficult has scared off most suitors. The ones who did approach only wanted her wealth. And now... there’s a rumour that the king himself plans to propose to her."

  Jeffrey was startled, glancing between Rhothomir and Bot in disbelief. "The king? Ralondo, our king?"

  Bot’s bitter laugh cut through the tension. "Yes, there’s talk he wants to marry my daughter. He plans to propose once he’s finished managing the kingdom after the war with Arguand... I can’t let that happen."

  Jeffrey watched Bot closely, noticing how different he seemed now from the composed man who had first entered his home. The easy confidence, the casual smiles—all gone. In their place was a man who looked like he was awaiting his own execution.

  Turning to Rhothomir, Jeffrey pressed, "But why? Marrying the king would elevate your status. You’d practically become royalty. You’d gain authority and—"

  "I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THAT!" Bot exploded, his sudden outburst silencing Jeffrey and surprising Rhothomir. Struggling to control his emotions, Bot continued, "I don’t care about money. I already have it. I... I..."

  Tears welled in Bot’s eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. When he spoke again, his voice was raw with emotion. "I... I have only one daughter. She was everything to my wife. Before my wife died, her one wish was to see our daughter loved and protected. That’s all that mattered to her."

  Jeffrey stared at Bot, taken aback by the depth of his emotion. Bot stood up, reached out, and grasped Jeffrey’s hand tightly. His voice trembled with desperation. "Please, I’ll give you money, I’ll give you anything—my life, if it comes to that. I’ll cut off my own arm, bury myself in the ground if necessary, just protect my daughter!"

  Rhothomir placed a comforting hand on Bot’s shoulder, trying to calm him down, while Jeffrey asked quietly, "Why not the king?"

  Bot lowered his head, tears falling to the floor as he replied, "King Ralondo... I don’t trust him. His face, his demeanour, the way he speaks... his smile, his manners... they’re too perfect, Jeffrey. No one is that flawless. I don’t even think he’s human."

  Jeffrey looked at Bot, who continued sobbing. "I’ve never trusted him. His wife died shortly after giving birth to Prince Riyo, and now he’s seeking a new wife. The rumours say it’s my daughter he wants. I don’t care what it takes—I just need to keep him away from her. That’s all I ask!"

  Jeffrey stared at the ground, torn between his responsibilities. His heart urged him to secure a better future for his region, friends, and everyone he cared about. Yet his mind debated throwing Rhothomir and Bot out, choosing instead to live a simple life with his son.

  His thoughts drifted to Beatrice, recalling the peaceful moments of watching her cook. Just thinking of her brought a faint smile to his lips, and he touched his chest, feeling warmth from the memory.

  "Jeffrey?"

  Rhothomir's voice snapped him back to the present. He glanced at Bot and responded, "I need to ask my son."

  Bot frowned, his frustration rising at Jeffrey’s answer. "Your son is still young. What wisdom can a child offer in matters like these?"

  "I don't care," Jeffrey replied calmly. "My son will tell me what to do. If he’s not happy with my decision, then none of this means anything."

  Bot was about to argue, but Rhothomir stepped in. "Uncle, I think we’ve pushed him far enough."

  Bot fell silent, and Rhothomir turned to Jeffrey with a gentle nod. "I hope you choose what brings you peace, my friend."

  Jeffrey stood up and embraced Rhothomir. Rhothomir hugged him back, careful of Jeffrey’s injured arm. As they stood together, Jeffrey tapped his back lightly and said, "Sorry about the table. I—"

  "It’s alright," Rhothomir assured him. "Friend, it’s alright. You can be upset. I’ve got your back, no matter what."

  After Bot and Rhothomir left to rest in the nearest city, Jeffrey remained in his chair, lost in thought. He muttered quietly to himself, "Joe will be back tomorrow. Only two days, but I already miss that kid. Hope he gets back soon. It’s lonely without him."

  Jeffrey glanced at his purple arm, still numb and lifeless. Rhothomir had mentioned that a group of nuns would arrive in the morning. As his eyes wandered to the tea stains on the floor, reminders of his outburst when he had flipped the table in anger, he sighed. Retrieving a cloth from the kitchen, he knelt and began wiping the floor. A tired smile crept onto his face as he murmured, "I miss you more than anything. I hope you’re at peace. I... I miss you so much."

  Covering his face with his hand, Jeffrey began to cry silently in the emptiness of his home.

  The next morning, Joe returned to the village, greeting Urien as he walked in, dirt and sweat covering him. Exhausted, he made his way toward his house. On the way, he noticed two carriages and thought, "Just like the ones at the temple when I delivered those spices. The nuns must’ve arrived."

  When Joe reached his home and opened the door, a nun was walking out. Startled, he quickly bowed his head. The nun smiled, nodding as she reassured him, "Your father is alright. Take care of him."

  Joe nodded and closed the door behind her as she joined the other nuns, who were using healing magic to tend to the village's wounded.

  At Gostave's house, Joe walked to his father’s bedroom and knocked softly. "Father?"

  "Oohh! Son, come in!"

  Joe entered to find Jeffrey lying in bed, his arm restored to normal. His father opened his arms, and Joe embraced him tightly. "I missed you, big guy! Where did you go?"

  After a quick bath, Joe sat down with his father for a meal. He placed a purse full of coins on the table beside Jeffrey, who smiled warmly. "You've worked hard. What are your plans for all this?"

  Joe pushed the purse toward his father, who paused mid-bite, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Son?"

  Joe stared down at the table. "I want to support our family... it's just the two of us now."

  Jeffrey remained quiet as Joe continued, "And for Lyra too. She lost Edmund. If the kingdom doesn’t send her the monthly payment, she’ll have nothing. The other women in the village who lost their husbands still have family. Lyra only has her daughter."

  Jeffrey nodded thoughtfully. "You’ve grown into a man faster than I expected. This is your money—you decide how to use it."

  Joe then asked, "Is there something you want to ask me?"

  Jeffrey was caught off guard, glancing at Joe with surprise as his son continued, "When you get that look on your face, it usually means you have something to ask but aren’t sure how to bring it up. You can ask me anything. I’m ready."

  Jeffrey smiled softly, setting his soup aside. "Son, a noble approached me today. He suggested that I could help this region, maybe even become a noble myself and lead. But the cost... it’s steep. And I need you to decide if it’s too much."

  Joe listened carefully, his gaze meeting Jeffrey’s as his father went on. "He wants me to marry his daughter, Evangeline. My heart tells me I could help our friends, our people, but my mind is telling me to turn him away when he returns. What do you think, Joe?"

  Joe looked at his father, noticing a smile on Jeffrey’s face that he had never seen before. It wasn’t the tired, frustrated, or regretful smile he was used to—it was a lost smile, as if Jeffrey was drifting. At that moment, Joe realized how much his father relied on him, how he had become Jeffrey’s anchor. A father and son, navigating uncertain waters together.

  Now, in the present, Joe smiled as he looked out between the merchant carts, spotting Boris dragging a cart while Yory and Lana chatted and laughed.

  Joe chuckled softly, which caught Jogo’s attention. "You saw him? Where?"

  Joe grinned and pointed, pulling Jogo closer. "The pale one, looking like he’s about to drop dead."

  Jogo nodded, observing Yory and Lana. *He looks weak... but with my skill, I can tell. He’s dangerous.*

  Over by Yory’s cart, Lana’s excitement bubbled over as she pointed toward the horizon. "Yory! Look, the walls! We’re almost there!"

  Yory nodded and gently patted Lana’s head. "Just wait until you see the inside."

  Lana hugged him from behind, her gaze fixed on the towering walls and grand gates that made the place even more breathtaking.

  *I’ve been here before,* Yory thought, reflecting to himself, *but only as a direct guest to the castle. Now, as a simple merchant, I’ll savour this moment with Lana.*

  As they neared the entrance, knights began inspecting the carriage, while a knight clad in golden armour struck up a conversation with Yory. Meanwhile, Lana bounced with excitement, clinging to him.

  The golden-armored knight smiled warmly. "Your daughter seems quite excited."

  Yory returned the smile. "Yes, she’s absolutely thrilled."

  With a nod and a welcoming smile, the knight signalled to let them through. "Welcome to the capital, dear merchant."

  Yory acknowledged with a nod, passing through the gates. Lana’s eyes went wide as she took in the lively scene—towers, bustling shops, carts, wizards, witches, lizard people, and adventurers everywhere. She laughed, hugging Yory tighter and jumping in excitement.

  "YORY! LANA!"

  Both came to a stop as a familiar voice called out. Yory helped Lana down from the cart, and they turned to see Joe and a young man approaching.

  Lana, grinning, ran straight into Joe’s arms. He lifted her up, laughing. "Hey, big girl, I missed you!"

  "I missed you too! Where were you, Joe?" Lana asked, beaming.

  "Here, there, and everywhere," Joe chuckled.

  He began tickling her, making Lana burst into giggles as she playfully tugged at his small beard and hair.

  Meanwhile, Jeffrey patted Joe on the shoulder with a smile. "Whatever you decide, son, I’ll support you."

  Joe gave a thoughtful nod, his mind turning over his father’s words, while Jeffrey ruffled his hair fondly.

  Yory stepped forward and embraced Joe, both of them exchanging pats on the back.

  Lana, intrigued, looked curiously at the young man with Joe. "Who’s this guy?"

  Joe smiled, holding Lana in his arms. "This is my younger brother, Jogo Gostave," he said warmly.