Extra Episode 10.

“Fire……!”

“Defend the front and back gates first!”

“S, someone’s attacking!”

Someone’s belated scream tore through the crisp night sky. Footsteps split toward the front and back gates, while indiscriminate gunfire shattered the air. Thick, acrid smoke from gunpowder and newly ignited flames obscured the view. At that moment, a second explosion echoed from the direction of the warehouse.

According to Rosetta’s shared plan, there would be five explosions in total. In other words, only three remained. How long until the third explosion was uncertain, but at this rate, time was definitely not on their side. Cardier approached the locked wooden door, holding his breath. Pressing his ear against it, he heard muffled voices from the other side.

“How many are there?”

“Seems like they can’t even figure that out.”

“They said it wouldn’t be dangerous—damn it.”

“Reinforcements! They’re calling for help at the front gate!”

A brief silence.

“If the one paying us says jump, we jump. Damn it.”

“Besides, we already locked the door anyway…….”

“Huh? Everyone’s leaving? Just ditching it?”

“Damn idiot, get a grip. If they’re attacking here, don’t you think there’s a reason? If we get caught, we’re dead.”

“Then we might as well just—”

The last voice trailed off, but those words alone planted a single thought in the mercenaries’ minds.

If things go south, run. No—run now.

They’d heard some instructions when receiving their navy uniforms, but ultimately, they were mercenaries. They never had lofty ideals or loyalty to begin with. They fought for money, and when their lives—more precious than money—were at risk, they fled.

After a brief silence, footsteps scattered in different directions. Soon, the corridor fell silent, devoid of any presence. Cardier waited a moment, then gripped the doorknob tightly and twisted. The rattling sound suggested the lock had been secured from the outside.

He glanced around and grabbed a nearby chair with both hands. Swinging it down onto the doorknob, it cracked and collapsed with a sharp snap. Gripping the dangling knob tightly, he pulled violently. After a few catching sounds, the metal latch gave way surprisingly easily. He tossed the knob aside and reached his arm into the round hole.

The naval residence on Baruna Island was an old building over a hundred years old, and locks from that era were generally simple mechanisms locked from the outside. Finding the latch, he pulled it upward and tugged. The door swung open as if someone had pulled it from outside. Cardier stepped one foot into the corridor, then abruptly covered his nose and mouth with his arm.

“Ugh…….”

He hadn’t noticed while inside the room, but the building was thick with acrid smoke. The old wooden structure seemed to be catching fire rapidly—faster than anyone could have anticipated. He hurried downstairs. The first floor and garden were in chaos, thick with smoke, and no one noticed him.

To the south of the residence was the main gate, to the north the back gate, and to the east a side gate used by servants. The west, however, was nothing but a dense, overgrown garden. Cornered rats instinctively sought exits. As Rosetta predicted, the further west he went, the fewer people he encountered.

Kwaang! At that moment, the third distant explosion rang out. This time, it was different from the first two. The gunfire…… was gradually subsiding. So were the frantic footsteps and shouts. Only two possibilities came to mind. Either the mercenaries Rosetta hired had been captured, or…….

He froze. The mere thought that she might have been caught sent a sinking, hollow feeling through his gut. Why? Had he started to care? After all, to her, he was nothing more than a job.

Kwaang! The fourth explosion. Much sooner than the previous three. Only then did he snap back to his senses.

The more chaotic his mind became, the better it was to simply stick to the original plan. He hurried across the western garden. A figure appeared ahead, near the wall. Was it her? Shadows from the shrubbery made it hard to tell. He knew he should move quietly, but he desperately wanted to see with his own eyes that she was safe. His cautious steps snapped a thin branch underfoot.

Twack.

“Who’s there!”

A man’s voice. Cardier froze on the spot. The mercenary’s eyes widened slightly as he recognized him.

“You’re…….”

A brief flicker of surprise passed over the mercenary’s face. Cardier could almost hear the gears turning in the man’s simple mind. Finally, the man smirked and drew his sword.

“I really am lucky.”

“…….”

“Young master, looks like we’ve got somewhere to go together.”

“…….”

“If you don’t want to die, stay calm and—”

Cardier silently yanked his blade from its scabbard. The mercenary’s face stiffened instantly, believing himself at an advantage for having drawn first. But the young noble’s stance was too clean, too precise—far from that of a pampered greenhouse flower. He looked like someone who’d actually wielded a sword before.

“…….”

Yet, staring at that smooth, unblemished face, a complacent thought crept in—maybe he’d misjudged, maybe he was mistaken. He quickly forgot what had startled him. The mercenary aimed his sword carelessly.

“Well, I suppose like any young master, once he sees a bit of blood, he’ll start whimpering.”

He briefly considered calling for backup, but the bounty on the boy’s head was worth hundreds of thousands of sol. Whether he handed him over to the admiral or the client, it meant a fortune. And money, by nature, tasted far better when swallowed alone than shared. Hiding his dark intentions, the mercenary smiled.

“Instead of this, let’s just get out of here. Who knows? Maybe I’ll take you back to your father…….”

Cardier scoffed coldly and launched forward, pushing off the ground. His flashing blade lunged straight for the mercenary’s throat. The man barely blocked it, but was forced back a few steps by the force.

“Ghk…….”

The mercenary clenched his teeth. He’d underestimated the kid—thought him a spoiled brat who’d never known hardship—but each strike carried surprising strength.

His movements were textbook-perfect, clean and precise. In other words, too predictable—his attacks easy to read. The thought of calling for help vanished as quickly as it came. The mercenary regained his composure.

“Come now, just follow me, alright? You don’t want to see your father?”

The young noble forcefully shoved the locked blades apart, then drove his sword at the mercenary’s chin. Whoosh—the blade whistled past the man’s ear. Had he not barely tilted his head aside, his jaw would have been pierced.

Immediately after, a drop of blood splattered to the ground, accompanied by searing pain. The mercenary stepped back and touched his ear. Half his earlobe was cleanly sliced off; the other half hung by a thread, mangled and flapping.

“Heh…….”

The mercenary’s expression darkened. Cardier expected him to lose his mind and charge recklessly—his eyes looked completely unhinged.

But unfortunately for Cardier, this man had ruled as the chief of southern mercenaries for many long years. Seeing blood, he instead grew eerily calm. The mercenary sneered.

“I was going to take you quietly, but you’re making it impossible.”

The way he held his sword changed. Cardier instinctively retreated. In the next instant, the blade came at him with unexpected speed.

Clang! Ka-kang!

He barely blocked, but his palms stung as if torn open. Sparks seemed to fly with every clash of steel. Whenever Cardier retreated, the mercenary aggressively closed in; whenever he parried, the man pressed forward with brute strength. Each moment felt like walking a tightrope. He’d blocked this time—but there was no guarantee he’d block the next. Slowly, he began to falter.

At that moment, the blade shot toward his right neck with unimaginable speed.

‘You always leave your right side open out of habit. That’s a bad habit too.’

Suddenly, a voice from the past—long vowed to be forgotten—flashed through his mind like a ghost. His long-trained instincts screamed one truth: It was already too late. The gleaming blade raced straight for his neck.

That moment stretched as if time itself had been elongated. Everything slowed. The mercenary’s face twisted in cruel delight, the blade glinting crimson in the firelight, his own body a beat too late to dodge.

“……!”

Then, someone stepped in front of him. Crimson hair streaking through the air, dawn cascading like a veil, a woman as fierce as a flame moments before burning out. Rosetta burst forward, blocking his path. Cardier was shoved back by her force and fell to the ground.

All of this happened in an instant. The mercenary’s blade, missing its target, pierced Rosetta’s right shoulder.

“Rosetta!”

He didn’t even realize he had screamed.