Chương 25: 'Sunlit Cherry Blossoms' & the Rut of Blood — Part 2

They relaxed in silence, letting the theater's ambiance settle around them. A young attendant approached, his soft footsteps breaking the quiet.

"Excuse me," he said, bowing.

"I'm here to clean the table."

"Ah, of course," Masahiko nodded.

"Go ahead." The attendant moved with effortless precision, stacking plates and bowls, gathering chopsticks, and wiping the table clean with a practiced grace that belied his youth.

"Whoa, you're fast," Galan said, leaning forward with a grin.

"Are you salaried, or can I hire you as my personal attendant?" The attendant smiled widely.

"Thank you for the offer, sir, but I have to decline. You see... the tips are just too good." Masahiko's eyes widened. Galan threw his head back with a hearty laugh, and the attendant joined in with a lighter chuckle.

"Alright, that's a good one," Galan said, wiping a mock tear from his eye.

"Here." He pinched the air, and a gold kogan materialized between his fingers. With a flick of his thumb, he launched the coin in a lazy arc. It glinted in the light before landing with a satisfying plink in an empty cup on the attendant's tray.

"Thank you so much, sir." The attendant bowed, his tray perfectly steady.

"May you have a good afternoon." As he walked away, the announcer's voice returned in Godlang.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. In just a moment, we invite you to enjoy the 'Sunlit Cherry Blossom.'" The lights dimmed, and the curtain swept open. The cherry tree had returned, its branches rustling under the bright, cheerful melody of a flute. A hush fell over the stage as a single figure glided into the spotlight. Her body was draped in a flowing, long-sleeved textile dress of soft pink that faded into pure white, its silk embroidered with scattered, gold-outlined cherry petals.

Her face was concealed by an open decorated fan, which she tilted with each measured step. She paused at the center of the stage. The flute held a long, extended note. Then, with a quiet turn, the dance began. Her fan dipped, revealing a serene gaze. The flute's pace quickened, and she followed each note precisely, her movements a whirlwind of tight, controlled spins. Her fan arced gracefully overhead, then swept low as if brushing dew from the blossoms. As the melody flowed, her movements expanded.

She took three soft steps, her long sleeves trailing like after-images, before pivoting, her arm extending with the fan closed as if to catch a ray of sunlight. The music slowed. Her fan snapped open fully, held high like a miniature sun, reflecting the spotlight as she performed a slow, graceful rotation, sharing the light with every corner of the theater. Galan and the audience watched, captivated, not a single word uttered in the hall.

But as the serene dance continued, his mind began to wander, the peaceful beauty on stage a stark, cruel contrast to a memory stirring in his subconscious. The gentle melody faded, replaced by the sounds of a cold, dark forest. He was being pulled back to that fateful night once more. ───────────── ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ───────────── If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Far from the outpost, the remnants of the noble's entourage fled through the forest, cutting through branches and dodging roots in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable. The night was alive with the hum of critters and the call of owls, their routines disrupted by the giants' intrusion and the bright glow of their light wands.

"Let's hide," the noble wheezed, his nightgown fluttering in the cold air.

"I... can't... keep going." He stumbled, his face slick with sweat. Aurelia steadied him.

"It's okay. We can search for a safe place." She knew there was no real safety in these woods, but she nodded to the guards.

"Over here!" one pointed to a cluster of boulders near an oak tree.

"We can hide behind those rocks." They helped the noble into the shallow depression. He clutched his chest, struggling to breathe, his face bright red.

"You think... I'm going to make it out of this... alive?"

"Catch your breath first, Lord," Aurelia said, handing him a water pouch.

"Drink. You'll need your strength." He gulped the water down with trembling hands.

"Aurelia, who would want me dead? I've always handled my business properly. Everything is legal. I gave everyone their fair share! I've done nothing wrong!" Aurelia fell silent.

"Perhaps... the people who are against our businesses have shown their true colors?" she ventured.

"I heard protests in the Empire have gotten out of control, with multiple confirmed assassinations of the Senate members who wished for our way of life to remain legal."

"What? Why shouldn't it be legal?" The noble shook his head, frustrated.

"They'd have nothing otherwise! No skills, no future. I've given them a new life. Hard labor, services... it's not pretty, but it's necessary."

"Necessary for whom?" Aurelia asked quietly.

"For everyone!" he snapped.

"The world isn't kind, Aurelia. People need things. If they can't provide, they're just left to rot? No, I gave them a purpose. I'm helping them."

"Maybe the families of those people you... helped... miss them," she said, her voice soft but pointed.

"Maybe that's why they're so angry."

"That's absurd!" he hissed.

"They should've sent assassins to the ones who destroyed their homes! Not me! I didn't destroy their lives—I'm giving them a way to rebuild! I'm not the enemy here!" The guards exchanged horrified glances. Their little venture wasn't seeming so admirable anymore. Fifty-five yards away, Galan hung shirtless while upside down from a thick branch, his mindcast relaying every word to his allies. He pulled himself up effortlessly, muscles tensing under the light of the moons.

"So that's how he sees it?" Gaius sent, his mental voice heavy with disgust.

"He's helping them rebuild their life by buying and selling them?"

"Yup," Galan said, while working out his abdominal muscles.

"And don't forget the part where they get beaten if their 'forced smiles' aren't wide enough for the clientele."

"Must you be so blunt?" Lucilla whispered, uncomfortable.

"It's just how it is," Galan said, pulling up again.

"He can't make as much money if his clients complain."

"You speak as if you've had first-hand experience," Gaius noted.

"Well, I'm a mindcaster," Galan said, sitting on the branch.

"Knowing how things work is the core of my being. Besides, I like understanding how the bad guys operate. Makes it easier to justify ending their lives." He dropped to the ground.

"What do we do now?" Lucilla asked.

"Want to talk to Aurelia before I fight her?"

"What?! Please don't!" Galan smiled.

"Don't what? Let you talk to her?"

"No, I—I mean..."

"Don't torment the lady, Master," Tiberius rumbled.

"Heh, alright. Go to her. I promise it would just be a friendly spar." He glanced at Aelia.

"And not the Aelia kind." Aelia rolled her eyes. Lucilla curtsied deeply.

"Thank you. I shall go now."

"Turn your light wand on," Galan ordered.

"She'll ask questions if you can run around in the dark." Lucilla nodded and activated the light, disappearing into the trees. Tiberius crossed his arms.

"Wonderful. Now, would you mind clothing yourself properly?"

"What, you and Tranio are the only ones allowed to walk topless?" Galan smirked. Tiberius exhales slowly, rubbing his snout.

"Seriously, Master?" Lucius asked from a nearby branch.

"Aren't we going to fight again? You could at least show some decency."

"Nah, I like feeling the cold breeze after such a workout."

"What? What workout? What were you doing?" Gaius asked, panicking.

"Relax, it's just some pull-ups. I haven't killed anyone yet."

"Ugh, you're unbelievable."

"He's always been like this," Aelia sent with a grin.

"Just get used to it."