The sky stretched vast and unbroken around them, painted in streaks of pale gold and fading lavender as the morning sun climbed higher. Wisps of cloud drifted lazily, but the higher they soared, the sharper the wind cut across their skin. The Qilin's legs beat with a steady, thunderous rhythm, scattering trails of crimson light through the air.

And yet—despite the beauty, the silence pressed like a weight. Between Luca and Aurelia, the only sounds were the rush of air and the occasional fiery snort from the Qilin. She sat straight and unyielding at the front, her braid whipping furiously behind her, while he kept just enough distance so his presence wouldn't brush against her shoulders.

Luca exhaled softly, breaking the quiet once more. "So, what's the mission this time? What are the details?"

For a long moment, Aurelia said nothing. The wind tugged at her braid, her jaw tight, her fists clenched around the Qilin's mane as though she could will herself into silence. But little by little, her shoulders shifted—stiff, reluctant.

Her voice finally broke through, sharp and clipped, each word forced out like she resented needing to speak to him at all.

"It's a black-grade mission. A large number of devil cultists were sighted near Ashenrock Gorge. Reports say they've been combing through the area as if they're searching for something. No one knows what yet, but considering the numbers, it's serious enough that leaving them unchecked isn't an option."

Her tone was flat, all business, but the undercurrent of anger still lingered beneath every syllable.

Luca's brows lifted faintly, a flicker of disbelief flashing in his eyes. A black-grade mission?

His lips curved downward as a familiar face appeared in his mind—Kyle, with that maddeningly smug grin tugging at his mouth, eyes glinting like he had just pulled off the perfect prank.

Huh… that bastard. Did he have to pick something this difficult? He definitely did it on purpose.

In his imagination, Kyle smirked wider, arms crossed, practically laughing at Luca's plight.

You really set me up for this, didn't you, brother…

Luca pinched the bridge of his nose, stifling a sigh before letting it out as little more than a whisper, lost in the wind.

At least she is speaking something, it's better than nothing, he murmured to himself, then a little louder, "Ashenrock Gorge… where exactly is it? Closest to which border?"

He already knew the answer, of course. The game's map had burned that canyon into his mind a dozen times over—narrow passes carved into black stone, cliffs that twisted like broken spines, and caves where light rarely touched. But if Aurelia was willing to answer him, even in fragments, he wasn't about to waste it.

Her head tilted slightly, though she never glanced back. "Eastern side of the Valdros Kingdom. Two days from the border of Valdros if you ride hard. It's a gorge carved from volcanic rock."

"Mm. Dangerous terrain," Luca said, pretending to weigh it over. He leaned slightly to one side, peering past Aurelia to the vast horizon. "Cliffs on both sides, narrow paths, caves along the gorge walls…We would reach there till night then"

"You know it," she cut in, voice flat, clipped.

"Not well enough," he lied smoothly, his mouth curving into a small, amused smile. "So. How many cultists?"

Aurelia's fingers flexed against the Qilin's mane. Her answer came after a pause, her tone still professional but terse. "Scout reports said at least a hundred. Possibly more. They move in shifts—patrols at the ridge, groups combing the caves."

Luca let out a low whistle, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "That's more than just a gathering. More like… a small army pretending to play hide-and-seek."

Her shoulders stiffened, and he caught the way her braid flicked as she turned her head slightly, though not enough for him to see her expression. "Doesn't matter what game they're playing. We wipe them out."

The words were steel, cold and merciless, but Luca found himself smiling faintly. She might not want to talk to him, might keep her distance like the Qilin's fire itself, but she was still speaking. Still answering. That was something.

So he pressed on, leaning casually against the Qilin's back as though they weren't flying into enemy territory. "And what do you think they're looking for? With that many, it must be more than rocks."

This time Aurelia didn't answer right away. The wind rushed between them, tugging at her cloak, making the silence stretch like a drawn bowstring.

"…We'll find out once we get there," she said at last, her voice quieter, edged with something unspoken.

Perched on the qilin's broad back, Aurelia sat upright, her posture impeccable, her crimson hair catching stray shafts of light like a cold halo. She hadn't looked at Luca once since they'd left the academy.

Luca leaned back slightly, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "You know," he began casually, "you're looking particularly good today. The wind really brings out the shine in your hair. Almost makes me forget we're heading toward a nest of cultists."

Aurelia didn't even turn her head. Her gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, her tone sharp as steel. "Focus on the mission."

Luca chuckled under his breath. Still not speaking. But… I swear her ear twitched just a little. Noted.

He let the silence hang a moment before speaking again, feigning sudden recollection. "Ah, I forgot to ask—how many credits is this mission worth?"

"Three hundred." Her voice was curt, as if she wanted the words out of her mouth as quickly as possible.

Luca whistled low. "That's a lot." He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing with mock seriousness. "But you'll have to forgive me, Aurelia. I'm still a bit fuzzy on the details. Can you tell me again what exactly we can use credits for?"

She gave him a sidelong glance, the barest flicker, before answering. "Credits function as military currency. They are accepted not only in the Empire but throughout most of the realm. With them, you can acquire goods that are difficult to obtain through normal means."

"Oh?" Luca tilted his head, pretending interest.

"Rare potions, specialized weapons, high-grade equipment," she continued, voice clipped, as though reciting a manual. "Even techniques—ones that aren't taught openly in the academies. If you have enough credits, doors open. Everywhere."

Luca smiled faintly. Of course I already knew that. I've used credits more times than I can count… but if it keeps her talking, it's worth playing dumb.

"Sounds pretty convenient," he mused aloud. "Almost like the whole continent agrees on one thing: gold is nice, but credits are better."

Aurelia didn't answer, her eyes fixed on the jagged silhouette of the gorge ahead.

Still, Luca swore he saw the faintest tightening of her jaw, as if she knew exactly what he was doing—and refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting further.

The qilin's hooves touched down lightly against the earth, stirring up dust that swirled in the dimming gold of the evening. The ride had stretched long, filled with Luca's occasional teasing and Aurelia's clipped replies. She never gave him more than the barest words, yet he noticed the faintest twitch in her lips or the quickening of her breath whenever he tossed a playful remark her way. He kept the questions rolling—not because he needed the answers, but because she answered, even if curtly. And that, to him, was a victory.

By the time the sun sank low, painting the horizon in burning streaks of amber and crimson, the faint outline of the Ashenrock Gorge came into view.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The lazy quiet of their journey bled into tension, as though the very air thickened around them. In the distance, jagged black cliffs rose like the ribs of some long-dead beast, their surfaces streaked with dark veins of volcanic ash. A pale mist seeped out of the gorge's depths, curling like ghostly fingers into the sky. The ground leading up to it was barren and cracked, scattered with shards of obsidian that crunched underfoot. Not a bird cried here, not a beast stirred—the silence was too complete, unnatural, oppressive.

Aurelia dismounted first, her boots clicking against the stone as she straightened, her expression as unreadable as ever, though her eyes lingered on the gorge with faint steel. Luca hopped down beside her, rolling his shoulders, his gaze sweeping over the desolate canyon. The cliffs towered around the entrance like a gaping maw, daring them to step inside.

The sight of it, the palpable sense of something foul festering within, only made Luca's grin sharpen. He cracked his neck, slid a hand along the hilt of one saber, and exhaled softly.

"Well," he said, his voice cutting through the silence, laced with an edge of anticipation. His eyes gleamed as he took a step toward the gorge.

"Let's clean out some filth."