Edward strapped on his light armor, tightening the black cloak over it. A small pocket-knife hung from his belt, his sword latched across his back beneath the cloak, and a metal hook dangled at his right side.
In the darkness of night, Jim was waiting under the mansion walls.
"Ready?" Jim whispered.
Edward gave a curt nod.
"Good. We don't need the hook tonight. I found a narrow crack under the bridge near the river." Jim spoke quietly as they moved.
They walked down the rocky slope toward the riverbank.
"No talking from now on. No sound. Only signs," Edward ordered.
Jim simply nodded.
The crack was too small to walk through upright. Edward lay flat and crawled forward, moving briskly with Jim following behind. The passage eventually opened into the mansion's waterway.
Without a word, Edward handed Jim a small dark-blue potion—night vision. Jim drank it.
After several minutes of slow, quiet movement, they reached the end of the waterway. A metal gate blocked their path; it could only be opened from the other side.
"What a trouble…" Jim muttered.
Edward picked up a small pebble, aimed, and tossed it toward the opposite side of the gate.
"What are you doing—?" Jim hissed.
Edward slipped into hiding immediately, leaving Jim in plain sight.
The iron door swung open. A soldier stepped out, chainmail on his chest, a torch in one hand, a wooden baton at his belt.
"Hey you!" he barked. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Jim froze, panic rushing in—then he caught Edward's subtle nod.
"Uhh…" Jim began loudly, while thinking God I hate you…
"S-sir, I am… lost?" he said with a sheepish smile.
"Lost? How'd you end up there in the first place?" the soldier stepped closer.
The moment the gate opened fully, Edward dashed up the stone ledge—fast as a shadow—and struck the soldier on the forehead with the back of his knife, knocking him unconscious.
"You played well," Edward said.
"Fuck you," Jim hissed.
"Stop complaining. Let's move." Edward grabbed the soldier's keys.
They rushed out, staying low among the bushes.
Soon they reached the massive storage building—white-washed wood reinforced with stone. Edward hooked the edge of an open window, climbed up, and slipped inside.
"I'll unlock the door. Wait here."
Jim nodded.
A moment later, Edward opened the entrance.
Inside—mountains of supplies. Grain. Jerky. Dried meat. Hard bread. Even fruits preserved in frost.
"Holy mother … what the fuck," Jim whispered.
"As I suspected," Edward said, covering his mouth, a strange, unsettling smile tugging at his lips.
"This Khan gathered everything in the Duchess's name—framing her. It's a conspiracy. Probably to overthrow her. And now…" He chuckled softly, darkly.
The sun began to rise, golden light creeping over the mountains and brushing the mansion rooftops.
"Well, well, well… look what we have here."
A voice echoed from the yard.
Edward and Jim stepped outside.
A man dressed like a wealthy merchant sat proudly atop a horse. No weapons—but the captain stood beside him. Dozens of armored soldiers surrounded the storage house, their gear far better than what the city guards wore.
"The captain told me you two would sneak here," the Khan laughed. "Predictable."
Edward walked forward. Jim moved left, hand resting on the hilts of his twin blades.
"Any last words?" the captain asked as the soldiers drew their weapons.
Edward glanced at Jim, then dropped his cloak. He drew his sword with a cold breath.
"Fuck," he muttered.
Jim sighed. "Of course…" and drew both swords.
The soldiers charged recklessly.
Edward dashed first—severing one man's arm in a single instant. Another soldier struck from the right; Edward dropped to one knee, bracing himself, blocking the blow with the flat of his blade and the support of his other hand. He kicked the attacker's leg, sending him crashing down.
Two more soldiers rushed him. One swung from above; Edward dodged smoothly as the blade cut through the air. The second soldier circled behind him, trying to slash his left side—but Edward twisted, blocked the strike, pulled his knife free, buried it in the man's foot, then slit his throat in one rapid motion.
Blood sprayed across the ground. Bodies dropped.
Standing again, Edward hurled his knife at another soldier, the blade burying itself in the man's eye. Before the next could react, Edward's sword opened his belly in a single vicious cut.
The captain watched Edward's movements—panic rising in his eyes.
"Captain! What are you waiting for? Kill that bastard!" the Khan shouted.
The captain drew his sword and stepped forward to face Edward.