"Only apathy I felt as my axe struck that child," Lian admitted, her voice almost casual at the mention of taking a life.
"You—" Rover started, but Lian raised her hands gently, silencing him before the words could fully form.
"I know my words prick at you, right down to your bones," she said softly, her gaze steady.
A faint, almost wistful smile touched her lips. "But I find it… sad, that something as inevitable as death can provoke such fierce reactions from all of you."
Her eyes flicked deliberately toward Scar. "Well… maybe from all but two."
Rover and Yangyang both narrowed their eyes, suspicion sharpening their features. 'Was there someone else?' They seem to thought.
A soft voice echoed from behind Scar. "Looks like I've been found out."
From the ruins emerged a woman dressed much like Scar—elegant, yet unsettling in her presence. It was Phrolova.
Her long hair cascaded in looped twin tails, a striking light green color that shimmered faintly under the light. Each twin tail was secured by delicate, ornamental hairpieces.
Her eyes were ethereal—pale silver white with a haunting red tint that seemed to pierce through the veil of reality itself, as if she could see into the deepest corners of one's soul.
She carried herself with serene confidence, her gaze steady and piercing, radiating an enigmatic power that commanded attention.
"I sense frustration from your side," Lian said pointedly, raising her Terminal for Scar and Phrolova to see. "It seems you had other motives with this Tacet Discord."
She let out a quiet sigh. "Well, none of this would have happened if I hadn't taken that commission from the Heron."
Her gaze swept across them all as she continued, "Regardless, I will leave now—so that the five of you can do your business here."
Her words spilled out without much thought, catching everyone off guard when she mentioned "five."
Rover's eyes widened as he asked, "Five?"
Lian turned her gaze to Rover, a sudden sharpness lacing her voice. "Hmm, it seems, you are quite special, esteemed guest."
Then, almost offhandedly, she added, "Had I not arrived, this man right here would have used your friend—Yangyang—over there as a bargaining chip to seal a deal."
She pointed directly at Scar, who simply rolled his eyes, as if taking hostages to gain leverage was nothing unusual in their world.
To Scar, it was just another calculated move—a standard procedure in the dangerous game they all played.
"Quit slandering me and tell me where this 'five' is," Scar snapped, eyes narrowing.
Lian simply smiled, then gestured toward the nearby high ground with a knowing smirk.
"Well, the Magistrate's bodyguard seems to be enjoying the show," she said, her voice laced with irony. "And perhaps someone else is listening in—judging by how her Terminal is blinking."
Then, with a voice both wry and inviting, she called into the open air: "Is that you, Changli?"
From the high grounds, a figure emerged—Sanhua, poised and unsettling, not unlike Phrolova. Her silver hair caught the wan daylight, and her red eyes glimmered as her Terminal pulsed quietly behind her back belt.
"Maverick!" Sanhua snapped, calling Lian out. "Do not pry into others' business."
Scar and Phrolova locked eyes—no words passed between them, but the question burned clear in both their gazes: "So that man from the previous day wasn't the Maverick… but if so, who is he?"
"Besides," Sanhua spat, "shouldn't you be on the front lines?"
Lian's voice remained calm. "But I am on the front lines."
Sanhua blinked, caught off guard, as all eyes turned to Lian. A faint shimmer traced her form, revealing three delicate strands of hair glowing softly. "These hairs, infused with my Resonance, carry a fragments of my essence here."
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd. Even in this limited form, Lian's power was undeniable. Scar, Phrolova, and the onlookers finally grasped the true scale of Maverick's strength.
"We'll see about that," Sanhua said, dialing General Jiyan. He answered almost immediately. "General where is the Maverick? And how's the front holding?"
On the screen, Jiyan's eyes barely flicked forward as a horde of TD charged. But soon, above them, golden arrows rained down relentlessly, shredding the assault.
His calm gaze betrayed no concern—no matter their numbers, the TD's attacks were futile. Every strike was crushed before it could land.
Sanhua's eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. The image spoke volumes: despite the overwhelming numbers, the TD's assaults were utterly doomed.
"Those arrows," Jiyan said, motioning to the golden downpour, "they all belongs to the Maverick."
Even through the screen, the sight alone—arrows falling like divine judgment—was enough to make those present draw back, awed by the raw force behind it.
"Seriously now." Lian interrupted, voice steady, "I hope Jinzhou will place a bit of trust in my words."
Sanhua ended the call with Jiyan as Lian spoke, her voice calm but resolute. "I have vowed to protect the frontlines—and promised that no Tacet Discord will ever cross the red line I've drawn as long as I am paid."
Lian stepped forward and held up her terminal, once again projecting the red line that marked the boundary of her oath.
"Also..." Lian smiled at Sanhua, calm and unshaken. "If I had truly pried into anyone's business," she said softly, "then trust me—Rover wouldn't be facing the injustice he is right now."
Her gaze then narrowed, and something in her expression made Sanhua stiffen—a flicker of fear rising in her chest.
Lian let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. "Haah…"
She looked at all of them—her voice low but seething. "I thought I had already seen the depths of hypocrisy."
Her eyes swept across the group—everyone but Rover—with quiet fury.
"But the world never fails to amaze me," Lian said, her voice sharp as a blade drawn too many times, "just how heavy its lies can weigh."
Then her gaze turned to Rover—and in that moment, sorrow bloomed in her expression like an old wound reopened.
She wanted to hug him, to shield him from the cruelty circling him in his most vulnerable state. But she didn't.
To do so would be to cross a boundary—to step into a space that, as Sanhua had made clear, was not hers to enter.
And Lian… Lian wasn't ready to commit to that.
Not yet. Not without a reason that would outweigh all the consequences.
"If I ever get the chance to meet you again," she murmured, "I'll buy you any food you want. Anything. You deserve at least that much… after being used like a toy in someone else's game."
Sanhua's eyes widened slightly. Scar and Phrolova exchanged glances, their curiosity visibly piqued. There was something about Lian—something that didn't quite add up. Even they couldn't look away.
Rover, meanwhile, stood frozen in quiet confusion.
He cursed the emptiness in his mind. 'Exactly What am I missing? Curse this amnesia.'
As Lian began to turn and walk away, Rover reached out and caught her wrist.
"Please," he asked, voice hoarse, "can you tell me what's going on?"
Lian looked back at him and shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I can't."
"Please… I'm amnesic. I've lost my memories," Rover admitted, the absence of memories cutting deeper than he expected.
Scar smirked quietly from behind. 'So it was true,' he thought.
Lian blinked. "Ah… that makes more sense now."
But then—her expression shifted. Anger welled in her eyes, sharp and sudden, directed at everyone else but Rover.
And yet… it didn't last for long.
But before it could fully burn out, a flicker of something else crossed her gaze—mischief, subtle and mischievous.
She had found her reason. A reason to help him. But it couldn't be impulsive—conditions would need to be set.
Still, something had shifted—a leverage had manifested, which she had a reason to make Rover's problems her own—a way to help him without overstepping, without acting like a careless outsider or an unwelcome third party.
Rover truly was extremely vulnerable, and she knew it now. And Lian—despite all she was, all she wasn't—couldn't let that be taken advantage of.
Not of him. Not of someone toward whom, for reasons she herself couldn't quite name, she had begun to feel a faint and fragile fondness. Perhaps it was the echo of her second core quality: "Compassion."
Her eyes swept over the others once more—cold, cutting. They stiffened beneath her gaze. Yangyang took a step back.
And then, Lian whispered—voice low and bitter as frost, "Vile animals… all of you."
Yet when she turned back to Rover, her touch was impossibly gentle. She brushed his cheek with her hand, her sorrow strong enough to make Rover's own heart tremble.
"I'm truly sorry," Lian said quietly, "but as a mercenary… I cannot help you."
Rover's face tensed, conflicted. But his instincts screamed the truth: Lian wasn't lying.
Out of everyone here, she was the only one who hadn't tried to manipulate him.
As desperation settled in, so did clarity—and it struck him: she was here on commission. Yes, that was it. If he couldn't trust alliances, then he'd forge one the old-fashioned way.
"I want to give you a commission," Rover said firmly.
Lian blinked, then gave him a small, almost amused smile. "I don't know your past, esteemed guest," she replied softly. "Perhaps only these two factions truly do."
"I don't care," Rover said, cutting her off.
"Rover…" Sanhua's voice called out gently, full of warning.
But he ignored her.
He passed a sum of funds to Lian—a gesture of good will.
"Help me," he said. "Help me figure out what's really going on. You know something—even if you claim to know nothing about me or my memories."
Lian paused, watching him with a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.
"And you would place your trust in me?" she asked, her tone light, almost playful, but never unkind.
Rover inclined his head. "You're the only one here who hasn't tried to mislead me."
He met her gaze, steady and unflinching. "You have no real leverage over me—only the fragile trust we've begun to build. And that's a risk I'm willing to take."
Lian said nothing for a moment. Then, quietly, she spoke. "Trust is a fragile thing," she murmured, turning to Rover. "But as a mercenary—one who has been entrusted—I will do my best to honor that trust."
Rover smiled, a sense of reassurance settling over him. But then Lian's expression shifted slightly, as though something troubled her.
"But…" she said, her tone trailing into thought.
She gestured toward the representatives of Jinzhou and Fractsidus. "We'll need their input—regardless of what they might be hiding."
Then, to everyone's surprise, Lian stepped forward and knelt before both factions. Rover's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"Doing my job," she said simply.
With her hands clasped before her, she bowed her head and addressed the factions: "For the sake of my client's well-being, I respectfully request information."
"Would the esteemed factions of Jinzhou and Fractsidus be magnanimous enough to provide him the insight he needs—to choose freely, and with full autonomy?" Lian pleaded with sincerity.
Rover stepped forward, protesting. "Why are you kneeling?"
Lian looked up at him, her voice quiet but certain. "In this case, I am the receiver from both sides."
Still kneeling, she offered him a subtle smile.
"A giver will always be grater than the receiver," she explained gently.
"I received payment from you," she pointed, explaining her decision to kneel. "And now, I'm the one making a request—asking something of both Jinzhou and Fractsidus. So it's only right that I kneel."
She spoke as if it were the most natural truth in the world—simple, matter-of-fact, and utterly sincere.
"Shouldn't I be kneeling too?" Rover asked, pointing at himself.
Lian shook her head gently. "It's not necessary." Her gaze shifted toward Sanhua and Scar. "Besides," she added, "if you are important to them, I believe honesty should be offered freely. That much is expected."
Sanhua's glare sharpened—Lian's words would undoubtedly leave a mark on Rover's perception of Jinzhou.
But unlike her, Scar couldn't have been more delighted. He clapped his hands and laughed. "Well spoken, Maverick." Flashing a grin, he nodded in approval. "Indeed—honesty is the best policy."
He then turned to Rover. "Rover," he called out, "would you like to hear the truth from Fractsidus?"
"Don't sway him," Sanhua warned sharply.
But Lian calmly summoned her axe and, with a single motion, cleaved a ten-meter partition into the ground—right beside Sanhua.
"I hope," Lian said firmly, "you'll respect my client's autonomy."
Scar gave Sanhua a sideways sneer, while Lian addressed her directly. "If Jinzhou is truly sincere, then I hope it can be honest with him."
"You're going to pay for this, Maverick," Sanhua hissed.
But Lian merely shook her head. "I'm doing this because the Counselor is my friend."
She then continued in an unwavering tone, "Even if Rover forgives Jinzhou for using him in a vulnerable state, the act itself is no small offense. It stains trust. As her friend, I promised I would do my part. So please, let me."
Sanhua regarded her in silence, holding her breath until, at last, she let it go—a quiet sigh—just as a low murmur from her Terminal found its way to her ear.
To be continued...
***
A/N: I've started planting some seeds of romance here, but more than that, I'm diving deeper into the layers this story has been missing—especially the messy truths behind the factions.
While Fractsidus may be the clear villain, Jinzhou is far from blameless. Their quiet manipulations and the way they keep Rover in the dark till some of their good motives are fulfilled reveals a harsh hypocrisy beneath their noble facade.
I want to explore these complicated shades of loyalty, trust, and betrayal alongside the budding connections between characters. I hope you readers are enjoying this new, more nuanced perspective!