"Sindri...?" Sylva asked.

Fumeirō narrowed his eyes. "Sindri... I think I've heard that name before..."

"He's one of the best—no, the best blacksmith in my homeland, the Dwarven Kingdom," Alguis replied.

"Oh... that's it! I remember now!"

Fumeirō glanced at the unconscious Sindri and went on, "There was a blacksmith in the capital who once spoke of a legendary dwarven smith from the Dwarven Kingdom of Niedalvir..."

"I never thought I’d see him with my own eyes," he continued. "Though he’s clearly not in his best condition..."

"His reputation was so widespread that it wouldn’t be surprising if every blacksmith on the continent knew his name," Aeden said as she stepped slowly into the room. "His brother, one of the palace guards, often bragged about how amazing he was. He never went a day without mentioning him in front of the others..."

"HAHAHA! Some even said he was his brother’s number one fan!" Völun added.

Alguis looked down at Sindri.

"What could’ve happened to leave him in such a miserable state...?"

I hope it wasn’t what I thought it is…

Reika stared at Alguis. She could tell what was running through his mind behind that perplexed expression, but chose not to say anything.

While the others were still deep in discussion, Silas caught a sudden twitch in Sindri’s eyelids.

"Halfdan, no!"

Everyone jolted when Sindri cried out in panic, reaching a hand into the air.

"My brother… He’s—"

"Sindri…!"

"H-Huh…?"

Sindri turned and saw Alguis beside him.

"K-King... Alguis...?"

The moment he saw Alguis’s face, tears welled up in his eyes.

"M-My brother... They... They…!"

The dwarves were stunned by his cry. They could see the fear written all over Sindri’s face.

“Sindri! Get yourself together!”

Sindri clutched his head. He struggled to stay composed, but his tears won't stop at all.

“He’s probably dizzy from losing too much blood,” Reika said. “We need to lay him down first.”

Alguis gently helped him lie back while trying to calm him. A moment later, Silas returned from the other room and placed a pillow beneath Sindri’s head.

“Sindri… would you care to explain what happened?” Alguis asked softly.

Sindri heard him and slowly began to suppress his emotions.

“I-It was afternoon when my brother came to visit me at the workshop, carrying a barrel of beer. It had been a hectic day, so when he insisted I take a break and drink with him, I gave in…”

“It was fine at first… but then I noticed his mood shift after just one pint. He was always good at hiding his feelings, so I didn’t think anything was wrong—at least not until he started saying what was really on his mind while we drank…”

"I asked him what was wrong, and then he told me... everything."

"What do you mean 'everything'?" Aeden asked.

Sindri grinded his teeth. "That something wrong is going on at the royal palace."

Everyone except Soru was shocked to hear the revelation.

"...Continue." Alguis told him.

"M-My brother told me that he overheard a conversation between the current king—your son, and someone else. He heard things that palace guards shouldn't have to..."

Alguis narrowed his eyes. "What were the things that your brother overheard? Did he told you the details?"

"Please, tell us everything, Sir Sindri!" Aeden insisted.

Alguis raised his palm in the air, signalling Aeden to stop. Aeden lowered her head and stepped back.

"If you feel uncomfortable to say it, you can—"

"I-It's alright," Sindri quickly replied. "The truth must be uncovered, especially to you, King Alguis..."

Alguis sighed and let Sindri continue.

"Based on what he told me, he overheard your son talking about a sudden tax increase that would soon be implemented. He kept insisting to the other person that it would be too much for the citizens, and their argument escalated from there."

"And then, to my brother’s surprise… your son suddenly stopped talking."

“He… stopped talking? What do you mean by that?” Alguis asked.

"My brother took a peek to get a better look at what was happening. That’s when he saw your son standing motionless, with this... complex inscription circle hovering over his forehead."

"What?!" Aeden and Völun exclaimed in unison.

“Did your brother see the other person’s face? What did they look like?” Völun asked quickly.

“...That person wore a dark cloak, so my brother couldn’t see their face. All he knew was that the same person cast the inscription circle on Sir Alguis' son. He left the scene when he suspected they might’ve sensed his presence…”

"Did your brother say anything else?” Alguis asked in a low voice.

Sindri narrowed his eyes. “He hesitated to continue. I tried to persuade him, but it was clear that whatever he heard afterward terrified him… to the point he couldn’t bring himself to speak of it.”

He clenched his fist. “Maybe he told me out of guilt. Maybe, he just couldn’t carry the weight of hiding something so important… something that could change everything.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Aeden murmured. “Without concrete evidence, we’re still in the dark about what’s really happening inside the palace…”

Sindri turned his gaze away and stared out the window. He clenched his fist.

"While we were in the middle of our conversation, we heard a noise coming from the outside..."

"He went out to check what it was, and to my horror... his head suddenly came flying through the door of my workshop!"

Sindri began to sob again as the memory of his brother’s death resurfaced.

"I grabbed my hammer and ran as far as I could. I was terrified—so terrified that I couldn't even bring myself to look at my brother’s lifeless body!"

With a cry, Sindri slammed his fist into the floor and left a hole to it.

"I couldn’t even retrieve his head because I ran like a coward! Just his head, damn it!"

Alguis reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it tightly.

“You don’t need to blame yourself, Sindri! I’m sure your brother is at peace knowing you survived. That his sacrifice wasn’t in vain!”

Sindri gripped Alguis’s hand in return, pouring his restrained fury into the former king’s grasp.

"Kghhh! What was the point of all this? I swam across the Great Lake just to escape that man—I didn’t even fight back as he chased me to the ends of the earth!"

Alguis’s eyes widened in shock. He knew how vast the Great Lake was—and that no ordinary person could ever cross it.

“To think Sindri actually made it across… No wonder he’s in such a state,” Völun murmured.

“We dwarves have exceptional stamina. But even I wouldn’t make it across without passing out the moment I reached the shore,” Aeden added. “His tenacity is… truly commendable.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Sindri,” Alguis said softly. “I’ll take responsibility in my son’s stead.”

He bowed his head low.

“I’m almost certain it was my son who ordered someone to… silence your brother.”

Sindri didn’t respond. But Alguis could feel his hand trembling within his grasp.

“Uh, m-maybe it wasn’t Sir Alguis’s son directly,” Fumeirō spoke up. “W-Well, technically it probably was… but I don’t think he acted of his own free will.”

Sindri turned to look at him. Fumeirō stepped closer.

“May I ask a few questions?”

Sindri said nothing, but gave a small nod.

“The inscription circle you mentioned—did your brother describe what it looked like?”

Sindri hesitated for a moment. “He said it was dark purple. There were two layers of circles… the larger one overlapped the smaller cirlce.”

“I see…” Fumeirō murmured.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper along with a special pen. With careful strokes, he began to draw.

Everyone watched in silence. When he finished, Fumeirō lifted the paper and showed it to them.

They saw unfamiliar inscription patterns etched into the paper.

"Since your brother had no knowledge of inscription circles, I can only deduce their function based on the description you told us earlier..."

Reika leaned in for a better look. "Is that an inscription circle? What does it do?"

Fumeirō narrowed his eyes. "I came across it by accident in the capital’s library. In theory, it makes the target susceptible to any command given to them..."

"In simpler terms, it's a form of brainwashing—a complex one."

Everyone except Soru reacted.

"What...?!" Alguis exclaimed. "Y-You mean my son was brainwashed?"

"Yes. There's no other explanation that fits the description—it has to be this."

“H-Hey, Fumeirō… how do you even know something like this exists? And are you sure it actually works?” Sylva asked in a worried tone.

"I'm fairly certain. There are no flaws in its design, however..."

"This kind of inscription circle consumes an immense amount of aeon just to activate. Whoever used it on Sir Alguis’ son must have had a massive aeon reserve to make it work properly..."

"We don’t need to prove its validity," Alguis said firmly. "The presence of this inscription circle is enough—it means my son was under someone's control all along!"

He gritted his teeth.

"Niedalvir is in grave danger..."

After several minutes of further discussion, everyone left the room to allow Sindri some rest. The revelation had left them shaken, and none of them spoke a word about it afterward.

As Soru and Reika stepped outside together, something materialized in front of them—a dryad.

"I apologize for disturbing you at this hour, but someone wishes to seek an audience with Sir Soru."

Soru nodded and followed the dryad and left Reika behind. Alone now, she glanced up at the night sky.

"It's late... Should I head to my room first?"

Meanwhile, Soru and the dryad arrived at the temporary settlement of the ogres. There, he spotted Veylir, Shiori, and Sukuna deep in conversation.

"The one you requested has arrived, Master Veylir," the dryad announced.

The three turned to face him.

"Good. Then I’ll take my leave," Veylir said and left with the dryad.

Now alone with the ogres, Soru noticed the shift in atmosphere. The air grew heavy with unspoken tension—but he felt no fear, only curiosity. 

"You..." Shiori said quietly. "Answer me with nothing but the truth."

"Did you... kill an ogre in the past?"

Soru could understand her clearly now. She spoke in the human dialect of this world—the same one he had acquired by extracting it from someone else’s memories.

"If you're referring to those who share your appearance... no, I did not."

"...Then why do I smell something on you that says otherwise?"

"I have no idea."

Shiori hesitated. "So you're saying you've never encountered anyone who looks like us before?"

"Yes. That's correct."

Shiori let out a long sigh.

"...I see."

Shiori glanced at Soru. His face remained stoic, completely void of emotion. It was her first time meeting someone like him.

Someone easy to read, yet impossible to understand.

"That's all I wanted to ask. You may go now."

Soru gave a silent nod and walked away without a word. Once he was out of sight, Sukuna let out a quiet sigh of relief.

"Hm. His answer matches what he told me before. He’s telling the truth."

"As much as I want to deny it, you're right, old man," Shiori muttered. "Based on his body language, there were no visible signs suggesting he was lying as he spoke."

"Our bodies aren’t very good at acting against what the mind believes is the best way to deceive others," Sukuna added.

"Maybe... he killed an ogre indirectly in the past?"

"That's not possible, Miss Shiori. Resentment doesn’t linger to someone that the victim never saw. The ogre that left that lingering hatred with Sir Soru must have been aware of his existence before it died."

Shiori lowered her head. She was lost in her thought.

"Then, what actually happened?"

"...There’s one possible explanation I can think of—for now."

"Hoh? Let’s hear it, old man."

Sukuna narrowed his eyes. "Given the circumstances, one possibility is that an ogre mistook him for the one who harmed it..."

"...Maybe, Sir Soru was just a random passerby at the time. He got caught in the ogre’s resentment without realizing he’d been seen."

"Would that even be possible?"

"It is, Miss Shiori. False accusations are commonplace in this world. It wouldn’t be surprising if that were the case with Sir Soru. Besides, others say he’s not from around here. That ogre might not have lived in the Great Forest of Drys either, and the incident happened somewhere else."

Shiori didn’t respond right away. She stood still, deep in thought. Eventually she stopped pressing the matter further.

"That explanation would suit his circumstances best. However..."

"No matter how we look at it, he’s still tied to the death of our kin. That ogre might not have been part of our tribe, but I can’t ignore the fact that one of our kind died with that much hatred—and that it lingered to a race I despise the most."

She turned around. "It’s getting late. I should head back inside."

As Shiori left the scene, Sukuna couldn’t help but watch her with concern.

As I thought... Miss Shiori’s past still haunts her, even now.

He let out a quiet sigh.

I’ve told her time and again to cast aside her prejudice against humans, but she refuses to listen. It clouds her judgment, leaving no room for compromise.

Alas… it will take time before she can truly forgive them.