"Jiyul."
Daren's voice was light but persistent, cutting through the morning silence.
"Get up. We are going out."
Jiyul sat up slowly from the long wooden bench by the open window. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, looking unbothered. "Where?"
"To the upper city," Daren replied, leaning against the doorframe. "Where the high nobles live. It is nothing like the mess down near the gates where the commoners crowd up. It's quiet. Clean."
Jiyul's eyes narrowed slightly. "And why would I care about that?"
"You have been sitting here like a ghost for two days," Daren said with a grin. "Don't tell me you are enjoying the quiet that much. Besides, we need to be seen. Part of the job."
Jiyul stood up, stretching his neck. "Fine. I will come. Just don't talk too much."
He walked to the stand where his new outfit was folded neatly. The deep blue inner tunic shimmered faintly in the morning light. He threw on the black outer robe, tightening the waist strap with practiced ease. It fit him like armor—polished, clean, yet sharp.
They left the estate and headed north.
The upper city was almost too silent. The roads here were wide and smooth, paved with polished stone rather than rough cobbles. Flowerbeds lined every corner, bursting with color, and there were no beggars, no shouting merchants, no smell of rot. The breeze carried hints of rare perfume and sweet oils.
Daren glanced at Jiyul as they walked past a fountain guarded by marble lion statues.
"So," Daren said casually. "Where do you come from?"
Jiyul didn't stop walking. His gaze swept over the pristine streets with disinterest. "You don't need to know."
"Just trying to talk," Daren shrugged, falling into step beside him. "I was curious about your past. Childhood. Your parents, maybe. Everyone comes from somewhere."
Jiyul's steps slowed for a fraction of a second. "Parents?"
His eyes turned darker, colder, like a cloud passing over the sun.
"I don't know who they are."
Daren went quiet for a beat, realizing he had stepped onto thin ice. "So you grew up alone?"
Jiyul's voice was flat. "I was in an orphanage. A village deep in the woods. That is all I remember."
"An orphanage in the woods?" Daren echoed. "That sounds rough. How did you even learn to fight like this? Your technique isn't wild. It's trained."
Jiyul turned to him, his eyes narrowing. "A swordsman adopted me later. Trained me."
Daren blinked. "Oh. That explains a lot. Your moves, the way you hold your stance... it is precise. And your qi is not normal. It feels heavier than even the capital knights."
"It isn't special," Jiyul replied coldly. "I just don't hesitate."
"Hesitate?"
Jiyul's eyes sharpened. "To cut. To kill. That is how skill grows. When you stop caring who is standing in front of you."
Daren's voice dropped a little, losing its casual tone. "You said your master adopted you. But the way you say it... it sounds like you hated him."
"Hate is too soft a word," Jiyul muttered. "He used me. Sent me on errands that always ended with blood. He said it was training. Said it was purpose. I was just a sword with a leash."
Daren frowned. "And... he is dead now?"
"Yes."
"What happened to him?"
Jiyul stopped walking. He looked at a passing noble carriage, ornate and gilded, then back at the quiet stone walls of the district.
"You ask too much," he said flatly. "Let it go."
Daren raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. No more questions."
They walked in silence for a while, the only sound the rhythmic click of their boots on the stone. After a few minutes, Daren spoke again, this time slower, more thoughtful.
"You know, I wasn't born into this noble life either. My father clawed his way into this city. House Virel is barely noble. We are 'new money.' That is why we are always targets. The old families hate us."
Jiyul didn't respond, but he didn't tell him to shut up either.
Daren added, "That is why I get it. The unfairness. The structure. You are right not to kneel to it."
Jiyul stopped and turned to face him. "I don't kneel to anyone."
Daren smirked. "Yeah. I figured that out the moment I saw you."
Another pause stretched between them. Then Jiyul asked, "Why do you even want to protect this house? You don't seem like the loyal type."
Daren looked ahead, his smile fading slightly. "Because it is all I have got. And because Uncle Kael gave me a place when no one else did."
Jiyul nodded once. It was a simple, respectful gesture. "Then protect it. But don't expect me to care about your ideals."
"I don't," Daren said, his grin returning. "I just expect you to cut anyone who tries to kill us."
"That," Jiyul replied, "I can do."
They walked a little farther, passing a tall statue of the first capital king. Children of nobles played nearby, their laughter distant and carefree.
Daren broke the silence again. "You ever think about what you would do if all this ended? If you didn't have to fight?"
Jiyul didn't even look at him. "Fighting is what I am."
"Yeah, but—"
"No," Jiyul interrupted. "There is no second path. No farming dreams. No peaceful endings."
"Sounds lonely."
"It is efficient."
Daren gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You are a cold bastard, Jiyul."
Jiyul didn't argue. He just kept walking.