CHAPTER 40: AND NONE STRUCK...

The white-haired man grunted, his voice rough, carrying like gravel over steel.

"You gonna stand there all night, tugging at each other and staring? Or are you finally gonna answer my damn questions?"

He pulled his foot off the ward’s pulsing wall, then casually kicked a splintered chunk of the broken gate toward it. The wood struck the shimmering barrier and ricocheted back with a dull clang, scattering uselessly on the dirt instead of passing through.

"This ward isn’t hiding you at all," he said, golden eyes narrowing. "I know you can see me... and I’m sure as hell you can hear me."

The sharpness of his words cut through the air. It snapped Yona and Lenko out of their silent match. Yona’s hand slipped slightly from his arm, her composure cracking for the first time. She opened her mouth, rushing to smooth the situation.

"I’m sorry, we were just---"The Brigade..."

Both she and Lenko stiffened as Diego cut through.

The mercenary stepped forward, calm but firm. His boots pressed into the dirt with unhurried weight, his presence shifting the tension in the air. Positioning himself between them as if to break apart a fight before it started. His eyes, steady as iron, lifted to the figure by the gate.

"...Welcome back," Diego said, voice even, steady as iron hammered flat.

For a heartbeat, silence hung heavy.

Then, a low chuckle escaped the white-haired man. It wasn’t mirthful... it was edged, almost dangerous, like the rumble of a beast that found something amusing but not worth baring fangs over. His golden eyes gleamed in the torchlight, sharp and predatory, flicking to Diego.

"Welcome back, huh?" His tone dripped with mockery, though not cruelty. "That’s all you’re gonna say? Don’t think we’re all that welcome here, though."

His head tilted, eyes narrowing slightly. He studied Diego with the casual precision of someone who had sized up enemies and allies alike in a glance. "You new?

Never seen you before."

Diego gave a short nod. "Appointed recently as the warden of Hinnom... by the mage."

At the mention of the late mage of Hinnom, something dark flickered across Diego’s expression... resentment, disdain, maybe both. Yona caught it immediately, and her own lips curved in a humorless sneer.

May that old bastard never rest in peace.

The white-haired man hummed, his gaze sliding over the warped sigils of the ward. Behind him, the brigade moved with perfect discipline, their torches and steel making short work of what remained of the Gula, ensuring no fragment would crawl back. Yet their leader lingered here, at the gate.

"I saw a mage’s robe tangled in that Gula’s rot," he muttered, raising his boot to the glowing barrier. His kick once again cracked like a thunderclap... yet the ward still thrummed, unbroken.

The recoil hissed off him as if the magic itself had tried, and failed, to shove him away. His jaw clenched. "But this thing’s still alive. So what? You already got yourself a new mage?"

Suddenly Lenko stepped forward, his voice catching in his throat. "H-he’s the one who put the ward... Sir."

Yona snapped her head toward him, stunned. Lenko’s eyes weren’t even on the white-haired man... they were locked on Muzio, dangling limply from that broad shoulder. Hand reached out toward empty air, fingers trembling, as if he could claw his lord back through sheer desperation. He looked on the verge of throwing himself into the ward again, no matter the recoil.

The brigade leader finally shifted his golden gaze to the boy he carried, lifting a brow. "This kid?" He gave Muzio a light jostle, almost careless. "A new kingdom-appointed mage? At his age? Why the hell’s he outside the village then?"

Yona sighed, dragging her hand down her face. "No. It’s not like that. He’s not Hinnom’s new mage."

The man frowned, confusion creasing into irritation. "Then who the hell put up this shitty ward?"

Yona exhaled sharply, pushing the damp strands of hair off her face. She muttered, half to herself but loud enough for him to hear, "We just told you. It’s him."

Sir Keiser closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose like someone already nursing a headache.

The silence that followed their words stretched too long, heavy and suffocating.

Then came the sudden boom.

The white-haired man’s boot slammed into the ward again, rattling the sigils so hard they pulsed like a struck drumskin. Yona’s shoulders jerked at the sound, Lenko’s jaw clenched, and even Diego flinched, his posture stiffening against the inevitable backlash.

All three braced for the recoil... yet none struck. Or rather...

The white-haired man only groaned, annoyed, as if swatting at a stubborn gnat. And then, without warning, he swung the limp body from his shoulder and dumped it unceremoniously onto the dirt. Muzio’s body hit the ground with a dull thud.

A sharp curse ripped from Yona’s throat at the same instant Lenko gasped. The boy dropped to his knees, palms hovering uselessly over the ward as he strained to glimpse Muzio’s still form beyond the barrier. His hands trembled against the shimmering divide he could not cross. Then his gaze snapped upward, fury blazing unrestrained as he fixed his scowl on the white-haired man.

The man only stared back, golden eyes flat, expression deadpan. "Is he blind, not seeing he’s standing outside his own ward, or just plain stupid for making it in the first place?"

He clicked his tongue, dismissive, and stepped back from the ward. "Tch. Just when I wanted a proper sleep..." His voice carried an edge of irritation, not cruelty. As though Muzio’s entire sacrifice was no more than an inconvenience.

He turned, shoulders rolling as he started walking away.

"Wait!" Yona’s voice cracked as she surged to her feet, her fists trembling. "You can’t leave him out there, the beasts will tear him down!"

The man’s laugh was more a scoff, thrown carelessly over his shoulder. "If he dies, the ward drops. Neat little solution, isn’t it?

" He paused, golden eyes sliding back toward them. "Or better yet... I could just hand him over to the first beast that wanders by."

Yona’s teeth ground so hard her jaw ached. Her body coiled like she was ready to hurl herself against the barrier if that’s what it took.

And then Lenko’s voice ripped through the night.

"Oi, Mad Dog!"

The shout split the air, sharp as a whip, raw with fury. It carried even over the crackling carcasses where the brigade burned the Gula’s remains. The entire brigade frozemid-motion, the flames behind them throwing their faces into shifting light and shadow.

Some of them stiffened, fear stark in their eyes, others smirked knowingly, their expressions twisting into something almost amused.

A ripple went through them... an instinctive reaction to the name.

Mad Dog.

The man stilled mid-step.

The silence after it was deafening.

Yona blinked, stunned, the name echoing in her ears. Mad Dog?

She had heard that before. A half-remembered murmur in the royal court, back when she had visited Alaric. The name whispered with a mixture of disdain and awe. Then it struck her, sharp as a blade... she knew who this was.

Her breath caught.

The fourth prince’s personal knight. The one so feared and so skilled that the court had taken to throwing him into Sheol’s jaws again and again, sending him to the borders year after year to stem the endless tide.

A man used like a weapon, not a knight. This was the Mad Dog.

Her gasp slipped before she could stop it.

The white-haired man was already turning his head, annoyance etched into the angle of his jaw, but there was something else... an edge of amusement curling at the corner of his mouth. His golden eyes gleamed in the torchlight as he asked, voice low, sharp.

"...What did you just call me, you brat?"