The morning breeze rolled in off the ocean near Baoahong.
Just a week earlier, the streets of the village had been cold and guarded — people here had been beaten down by poverty, pirate attacks, and the scars of war. But since the day a gate of Abaddon split open the village square and the Blood Rose warriors pushed back the monsters pouring through it, something had started to thaw.
It was not dramatic. It showed up in small moments — fishermen glancing up from their nets to nod as the hwa-samurai passed, a woman offering cups of spring water from her porch, children peeking around fence posts to stare wide-eyed at the crimson cloaks of Princess Yejin's retainers.
On the western edge of the village, past the last houses and into the terraced farmland, Princess Choi Yejin walked along a raised stone path. Below her, she spotted an old farmer bent over his wheat, breath ragged as he hacked at the stalks with a worn sickle. Sweat soaked through his shirt under the scorching sun.
Yejin stopped to watch him. He'd barely made it through a quarter of the field, and clouds were already building on the horizon — rain that could ruin the crop if it wasn't cut in time.
She stepped down off the ridge. "Good morning, elder," she said.
The old man nearly jumped out of his skin. When he spotted the royal emblem on her collar, he forced his stiff back into a clumsy bow. "P-Princess Yejin! Forgive me, I didn't hear you coming — you shouldn't be out here in the dirt like this—"
"There's nothing to feel sorry about," she said, smiling to put him at ease. "Are you working this whole field alone?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "My sons got pulled into supply work near Zheng Fort after the attacks started. Hahaha. And wife's been gone for three winters now. It's just me. I need this crop in before the wet weather hits, but my knees aren't what they used to be."
Yejin looked out over the wheat, then rested a hand on her sword. "Step back onto the ridge for me."
He blinked. "My lady?"
"Trust me," Yejin confidently said.
He shuffled back to safety. Yejin walked into the center of the field, planted her feet, and breathed slowly.
She performed a single turn of her body, one clean arc of her blade, and a wave of compressed wind shot across the field like an invisible scythe, slicing the wheat clean without disturbing a single grain head. Before the first cut even settled, she spun and struck twice more, sending two more crescents of wind sweeping left and right.
She sheathed her sword with a quiet click. A moment later, the entire field folded over in three neat rows, as if a whole crew had harvested it overnight.
The farmer stood frozen, mouth open, looking between the severed stalks and his own rusty sickle.
"There," Yejin said, brushing hair from her face. "That should spare you a few days of hard labor."
He scrambled down from the ridge, eyes wet with disbelief. "Goddess above... three swings? Just three?" He stared at her like she'd stepped out of a legend. "Thank you, Princess! You've saved my whole season."
"It was nothing," she said. "I just hope you get a fair price at market for it."
His smile faltered slightly. "I hope so too, my lady. Prices have doubled since the war, but the traders still pay us next to nothing. Sometimes I think — if only I could haul this grain to Lingwen myself instead of selling to the middlemen, I might actually earn enough kyeols to afford coal for the whole winter."
"That would cut the merchants out entirely," Yejin agreed. "Lingwen's markets are the biggest in the south. But it's a long trip by water and on land — you'd need boats, syndyrs, secure crates."
He laughed at himself, waving the idea away. "Listen to an old man dream. I don't even own a rowboat, let alone a cart." He knelt to gather the cut stalks. "A man my age ought to know better."
He laughed again, but Yejin caught the sadness underneath it — the same look she'd seen too many times in the outer provinces, people working themselves raw with no way to reach the wealth of the mainland.
Something settled in her mind.
"I'm going to speak with the Shogun about this," she said firmly.
He froze mid-knot. "What did you say?"
"I'll submit a formal petition to my father," she continued, stepping closer. "Islands like Baoahong and Meto shouldn't be cut off and forgotten. The empire should run its own transport system — cargo barges, shared pack animals — so farmers and fishermen can get their goods to the fortress markets directly, without merchants squeezing them dry."
The farmer dropped his bundle. "Princess... you're not joking with an old man, are you? You mean it?"
"I mean it completely," she said. "It won't happen fast — getting the ministers and the funding sorted could take years, especially with the crown paying for coastal defense. But I'll see that the petition moves forward. I want to help pull our people out of this cycle."
Tears filled his eyes. He dropped to his knees, took her hands, and pressed his forehead against them, shoulders shaking. "Thank you... bless you, Princess. May Amaterasu light your path and grant you every success."
Yejin knelt beside him in the dirt, holding his trembling hands. "You've carried this alone long enough, elder. Let us help now."
After some time, the afternoon sun pressed down hard on the packed clay streets.
Vincent and Tsuyu walked their patrol route side by side — Vincent loose and easy with his hands behind his head, Tsuyu upright and alert, scanning the rooftops and alleys out of habit.
Ahead, near the fork toward the fishing docks, three boys chased a leather ball through the heat, faces red, bare feet kicking up dust.
Tsuyu frowned and picked up her pace. "How could they be having fun under that scorching sun?"
"Kids never run out of energy," Vincent said, chuckling. "Though even I'm feeling roasted out here."
"You're kidding, right? You literally burn your enemies with your flames." Tsuyu said.
Vincent just laughed.
They reached the boys, and Tsuyu raised a hand. "Hold on, you three."
The boys skidded to a stop. Spotting Tsuyu's armor and the Blood Rose crest, they huddled together, eyes wide.
"Wouldn't it be better to play in the shade over there?" Tsuyu asked, pointing to an awning by a shuttered cooperage. "This heat will make you sick."
The tallest boy, hair a mess, wiped sweat off his brow and studied her curiously. "It's not that hot. But shouldn't you be saying that to yourself, miss? All that armor and a cape."
Tsuyu crouched to his eye level, a faint smile forming. "I can see you're a smart boy, but I'm used to this kind of weather. Part of training as a hwa-samurai is learning to control your inner energy — regulate your breathing, your body heat. You can stay cool even when it feels hot outside." She tilted her head. "Would you want to become a hwa-samurai someday?"
The boy shook his head hard. "No. Never."
Tsuyu raised an eyebrow. "Really? Why not?"
Vincent stopped beside her, suddenly paying closer attention.
The boy stared at his feet, scuffing the dirt. "Because the soldiers who used to be here were mean. They laughed at me when I told them monsters were taking kids at night. Nobody believed me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "My best friend Jinho disappeared last month. When his mom begged them to search for him, they said he was probably abducted by pirates and that they'd do their best to search for him. Then the war started and everyone forgot about him. Jinho's mom was also killed in the war."
The mood on the street shifted instantly.
Tsuyu straightened, her expression softened. "I'm sorry to hear that. You seem to know a lot for your age. Tell me about this monster."
"I'm not lying!" the boy said, fists clenching like he expected to be mocked again. "I saw it myself, last year, walking back through the forest after dark. It was a man, tall and thin in the trees, with yellow eyes that glowed. It didn't make a sound. That's why nobody lets their kids out after sundown anymore."
Vincent dropped to one knee to meet the boy's eyes, all the ease gone from his posture. "Yellow eyes," he repeated gently. "You saw it last year. Did you see it again when your friend disappeared?"
The boy looked at him, surprised someone was actually listening. "No... not last month. Jinho was supposed to meet me by the grain shed at dusk. He never came. We found his sandals in the mud near the tree line. But nobody believed me about the eyes."
Vincent put a steady hand on his shoulder. "I believe you."
The boy's throat tightened.
"I know you're not lying, and you're not crazy," Vincent said. "Dangerous things are out there, especially now. You did the right thing telling someone. Do me a favor — watch out for your friends. Always stay away from the woods and the docks after dark. Can you do that?"
The boy nodded firmly. "I promise. I don't want to worry my grandmother more than she already is. My parents were killed by pirates two years ago. She's all I've got left."
Something tightened in Vincent's chest. He smiled and ruffled the boy's hair. "You're a good kid. Brave, too. Go on, get in the shade like she said."
"Yes, sir!" The boy waved his friends over, and the three of them ran off to kick their ball in the shadow of the cooperage roof.
Vincent and Tsuyu watched a moment, then turned and walked on.
Once they were out of earshot, Vincent's voice dropped. "How many kids have gone missing from this village?"
Tsuyu kept her eyes forward, troubled. "I don't have exact numbers — I haven't gone through the magistrate's records. Baoahong is a remote posting; the Blood Rose barely gets deployed here. Since the foundation of the Blood Rose, we were only ever deployed here thrice. Most of our postings are at the major sites — Kyungsuk, the Saeho Isle, the front lines at Hokaishin."
"Then we need to look into it," Vincent said. "A missing child is bad enough. One that vanishes right after someone spots something with glowing eyes? We can't just let that go."
Tsuyu exhaled slowly. "If you think it's worth investigating, I won't stop you. I'll raise it with Lady Yejin tonight and see about opening an inquiry. But be realistic, Vincent — this probably won't lead to some monster with yellow eyes. It'll lead to pirate slavers."
Vincent looked at her. "Slavers?"
"It's their trade," she said flatly. "The outer islands — Meto, Baoahong, Aojiku — take the worst of the raids in this empire. Even Hokaishin gets hit when the raiders are bold enough. A place like this, with barely any garrison, is easy pickings. Longboats slip into the coves under fog cover constantly. Baoahong gets hit once or twice a month, on average. We've just been lucky this past week."
Vincent's jaw tightened. "Once or twice a month. That's unacceptable. Honestly, I was almost hoping they'd show up while we're here. I'd love to burn their whole fleet down to the waterline."
"Don't wish for that," Tsuyu warned, giving him a hard look. "These aren't petty thieves in rowboats. Some of these captains are dangerous — dark practitioners who can flood entire villages and even call storms. Have you heard of Kaneward?"
Vincent's casual expression dropped completely. "Kaneward Guiltine. The Pirate Overlord. You can't sit in a tavern on the western coast without someone whispering that name."
"Then you understand he's no ordinary outlaw," Tsuyu said quietly. "They say his strength rivals Warlord Zarbosa of the Southern Alliance. That puts him on the same level as our own Dae-Ryeong, Choi Eunjoo — maybe higher."
Vincent nodded, staring out at the horizon. "I know exactly how dangerous he is. One of our top operatives in the Fabled Class, Karina Montrel, fought him once."
Tsuyu stopped walking. "Someone from your organization actually fought the Pirate Overlord?"
"Yeah. Karina — she's infamously known as 'The Heart Stopper'. A master assassin, faster and more experienced than me or Kei. She's walked away from missions that would've wiped out whole battalions. But she told us straight — she never stood a chance against Kaneward. His body just... shrugged off hits that should've cut a man in half. She barely escaped."
Tsuyu shivered despite the heat, eyes on the dark water in the distance. "A terrifying man. Let's hope his ships stay far from here."
"Agreed," Vincent muttered, adjusting his belt. "Gates and invaders are already enough to deal with for one assignment."
They reached the bend where the road curved back toward the village square. Tsuyu checked the sun — the shadows were already lengthening.
"Come on," she said, quickening her step. "Shift change is coming up. Lady Yejin's unit will be taking over the watch."
"Right behind you," Vincent said.
They turned away from the glittering sea and headed straight for the barracks.