Belamus narrowed his eyes, curiosity piqued. The assassin hadn’t reacted to anything earlier. No begging, no anger, no fear. And now? He was fighting like his life actually mattered.
“Mind if I ask him a few questions?” Belamus asked, lowering the prisoner gently to the ground. With a flick of his fingers, he dispelled the magic sealing the dwarf’s mouth.
“P-Please! Don’t kill me!” the dwarf blurted out, eyes wide with terror. “I heard everything just now, I swear! I want to help you! I’ll do anything, I’ll cooperate!”
The declaration stunned them both into silence, not because of its content, but because of its sincerity, or what sounded like sincerity. Had he really believed what they’d said? Was this some elaborate ruse, or a genuine attempt to survive? Belamus couldn’t tell. It was too sudden, too convenient. Trust didn’t come easy—not here, not now.
“One more ally wouldn’t hurt,” he said, cautiously.
Meira’s eyes had already gone cold. Her voice, when it came, was clipped and final. “We can’t trust him.”
“I’ll admit it: I was never comfortable with the mission to assassinate Lady Mimi,” the dwarf said, voice trembling with emotion. “They told us over and over that it was for the good of the kingdom. But to think her death would bring such catastrophe upon us… I never imagined. I’ll tell you everything I know. Please… let me join you.”
There was no hesitation in his expression now, no calculated coldness, just raw desperation and a sliver of hope. If this was an act, it was masterful. Belamus studied him in silence, weighing each word. But there was something in the way the man spoke, something genuine. Perhaps he’d always harbored doubts about the orders he’d been given, and now, after overhearing their conversation, those doubts had finally tipped into conviction.
Even Meira, who had been ice cold toward the idea of trusting him, faltered. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, brief but noticeable.
“I still don’t trust you,” she said at last, her tone clipped but not entirely unyielding. “But if you’re willing to talk, then I’ll hold off on killing you for now. Belamus, keep him restrained, but loosen it. Slightly.”
“Thank you. Thank you!” The dwarf tried bowing repeatedly, tears brimming in his eyes.
“What’s your name?” Meira asked.
“Rumalus,” he said, again attempting to bow his head low, voice tight with lingering guilt and fragile hope.
Once the bindings had been relaxed, Rumalus began to talk, and he didn’t stop for a long time. He revealed everything he knew about the covert military unit he belonged to, as well as the disturbing truth behind the assassination orders. It hadn’t come from the king, but from Chancellor Lazalit. According to Rumalus, Lazalit had effectively seized control of the royal palace. The king, though still the figurehead, had left most of the kingdom’s governance in the chancellor’s hands.
“So, it wasn’t the king’s will at all… Lazalit is the one pushing for Mimi’s death,” Meira muttered, frowning. “It’s not unusual for a sovereign to delegate to a trusted subordinate, but this level of obsession… is bizarre. Does he truly believe disaster will strike the kingdom just because she’s alive, even outside its borders? Or is there something else driving him?”
She shook her head, as if to dismiss the thought. Speculating too much about the enemy’s intentions would only bog them down.
“How far is it to the Emperor Treant’s territory?” Belamus asked, shifting the topic.
“It’s a long trek. At least two days,” Meira replied. “And now that our location’s been compromised, we can’t just walk away and leave the hideout as is. There are materials, documents, and other items that need to be secured or destroyed. I’ll need time to wrap everything up. We’ll aim to depart tomorrow at noon.”
That seemed reasonable enough. An extra day’s delay wouldn’t make much difference if it meant keeping their secrets out of enemy hands.
At Meira’s command, the hideout suddenly sprang to life. Members of Gagagamoor darted through the hallways, gathering supplies, burning sensitive records, and preparing to vanish without a trace. Belamus and Mimi stood off to the side, waiting as the base they’d considered a safe haven was slowly, methodically dismantled.
While Meira’s unit busied themselves dismantling the hideout, Belamus took it upon himself to explain the situation to Delarosa and Navasha. Neither of them fully understood Dwarvish, so Belamus translated everything as clearly as he could. Even so, the nuances seemed to escape them. They exchanged confused glances more than once, clearly struggling to keep up.
Still, one thing had gotten through: something grave was unfolding in the Kingdom of Crystia, something that threatened the entire realm. That, at least, they understood. Their confusion melted into grim determination, and the air around them grew taut with resolve.
But even as he spoke, Belamus’s gaze kept drifting toward Mimi. She sat apart from the others, small and still, shoulders drawn in tight. Her fear wasn’t difficult to read. The cave they were about to enter was rumored to be home to powerful monsters, and unlike their previous ventures, this time she wouldn’t be surrounded by a full escort. It would be just her and, of course, Belamus. If something went wrong inside, there would be no one else to come to their rescue.
He couldn’t blame her for being afraid.
Belamus walked over quietly and knelt beside her. “You holding up?” he asked gently.
Mimi jumped at the sound of his voice, then turned toward him with a forced smile. “B-Belamus? Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”
She wasn’t. Her voice cracked, her hands trembled, and her eyes darted everywhere but at him. It was a lie, and an obvious one.
“No, you’re not,” he said calmly.
Her breath caught. “Ugh…”
The mask slipped. For a long moment, she just sat there in silence, swallowing hard against whatever emotion was threatening to rise. And then, finally, her voice came out, small and halting.
“I know I’m the princess of Crystia, and it’s pathetic to be scared like this, but… if I really think about dying in that cave, I can’t stop shaking. I know this is what I have to do to save the kingdom, but still…” Mimi whispered, her voice fragile and wavering, as if each word cost her more than she could afford to admit.
Her voice broke, and her shoulders trembled. She wasn’t just frightened; she was terrified. And trying so hard not to show it.
Belamus didn’t try to drown her fear in empty reassurances. He didn’t offer platitudes or comforting lies. Instead, he said the one thing he wanted her to truly believe.
He met her eyes, steadily, seriously, and with a quiet fire behind his words.
“You won’t be going in alone. We’re going in together. I’ll be right beside you the whole way. No matter what kind of monsters we find in there… I won’t let them touch you. Not even a scratch. I promise.”
Her breath caught again, but for a different reason this time. Color bloomed in her cheeks, soft and shy.
“I-I believe you,” she mumbled, eyes darting away as her voice grew smaller. “When… when you say that, I believe you…”