For a mont, the street fell into an eerie silence as they watched Thoren’s departing back fade into the distance.
Fresh blood lay scattered across the ground, staining the stone pavent a dark crimson, while the air reeked sharply of iron.
It was a brutal reminder of the grueso battle that had just taken place, one that had ended far too quickly.
At the corner of the street, Ophelia and Fidelia stood frozen in place.
Their eyes were wide, their jaws slack with disbelief, as if their minds had yet to catch up with what they had just witnessed.
"A–are you sure that kid is a rookie?" Fidelia finally asked, turning toward Ophelia. Her voice wavered despite her attempt to sound composed.
"I–I..." Ophelia stamred, her throat dry. The shock was too great; her mind refused to process the scene properly.
She had been fighting in the Abyss for over a month.
Even with the support of her party, she had only managed to reach Level 10 earlier that very day.
Among most awakeners, her progress was considered impressive, exceptional, even.
Yet now...
Her gaze drifted toward the direction Thoren had left, recalling the harmless-looking silver-haired boy who had refused to pay fifteen copper coins for a room at the inn.
She no longer knew what to believe.
If her growth rate was considered fast, then what did that make him?
Looking at her troubled expression, Fidelia slowly shook her head.
’Where did such a monster co from?’
’In just two days, he was already this powerful. Then what about a week? A month? How strong would he beco by then?’
’And with such a weak profession... Fidelia narrowed her eyes. No. It has to be his talent.’
’His talent wouldn’t be anything less than A-rank. An S-rank talent isn’t out of the question either.’
Her expression darkened.
’Now that he’s revealed his hand, trouble will co for him—lots of it.’
She let out a quiet sigh and shook her head again. They weren’t close to Thoren.
In fact, only Ophelia had exchanged more than a few words with him. Even if she wanted to warn him, it was already too late.
"Let’s return to the inn," Fidelia said quietly.
Ophelia nodded, though her gaze lingered on the bloodstained street for a mont longer before she followed.
As they entered the inn, Ophelia finally spoke again. "Big sister... I think he was telling the truth."
Fidelia glanced at her.
"What’s wrong with him turning those who wanted to harm him into undead servants?" Ophelia continued. "They attacked first."
Fidelia shook her head slowly. "It’s not about right or wrong. Don’t ddle in this. With the Federation losing so many awakeners lately, they won’t take this lightly. By tomorrow, a bounty will be placed on his head."
Ophelia sighed, her shoulders slumping. "So... there’s really no way to help him?"
"No," Fidelia replied firmly. "And even if there were, we’re too weak to change anything. You have no idea how powerful the Federation Police truly are."
Ophelia fell silent.
Elsewhere on the sa street, inside a two-story building, a beautiful girl stood quietly beside an open window.
Her gaze was fixed on the distant town gate, where Thoren had disappeared.
Her expression was unreadable.
She clenched her fists at her sides and whispered softly, "Be safe."
The Federation might label him a demon. They might call him evil.
She didn’t care.
From what she had seen, he had been forced into that fight. He had been given no choice.
Compared to her so-called party mbers, the ones who had betrayed her without hesitation, he was far more human.
The mory of that betrayal surfaced again, sharp and bitter.
She bit the corner of her lip, her eyes burning with a mix of determination and vengeance.
anwhile, Minerva staggered back into the Federation building, her body drenched in blood and sweat. Each step felt heavier than the last.
"Senior Minerva! What happened?" a young officer cried out as he rushed to her side.
"Get ... a healer..." Minerva muttered weakly, her legs finally giving way.
"Y–yes! Yes!" The boy quickly supported her while others rushed off to summon dical assistance.
Inside his office, Elric was reviewing Abyssal reports when the door was suddenly pushed open. A young officer entered, his expression tense.
"Sir, Senior Minerva has returned," he reported. "She’s injured."
"Injured?" Elric shot to his feet, disbelief flashing across his face. "How?"
Her mission had been simple; arrest a weak necromancer who had barely entered the Abyss two days ago.
"How could she be injured?" he demanded.
"She’s in the infirmary, sir."
Elric didn’t wait for another word.
He strode out of the office, his steps long and urgent. Minerva was one of his most diligent officers. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to her.
He arrived at the infirmary monts later.
Minerva lay on the bed, her face pale, her breathing shallow. A deep, grueso wound marred her thigh, still faintly glowing under the healer’s magic.
"Captain..." Minerva murmured weakly.
Elric turned to the healer. "May I speak with her privately?"
"Yes, Captain," the healer replied. "But only for a minute or two."
Once the healer stepped outside, Elric’s gaze sharpened. "Tell what happened."
Minerva recounted everything without omission. As the story unfolded, Elric’s expression grew increasingly grim.
"More than twenty undead servants..." he muttered, his voice barely audible.
But when she reached the part where Thoren turned fallen Federation officers into undead mid-battle, Elric shuddered.
He understood the implications all too well.
Such a talent... was dangerous beyond asure.
"You did well," he finally said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Rest now. Leave the rest to ."
He left the infirmary without another word.
Monts later, his orders rang through the Federation building.
"Spread the news. The Federation has placed a bounty of five hundred copper coins for information on Thoren Starfall’s whereabouts—and one thousand copper coins for anyone who brings him to justice."
Within minutes, the announcent spread throughout the town.
It was the first ti such an enormous bounty had been issued.
While the Federation Police moved to mobilize the masses, another force had already begun to act.
Outside the town, deep into the night, a group of n clad in black robes and hoods silently followed their target from afar.
The hunt had begun.
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