Within the black fortress's massive yet ruined front courtyard, sentinels thronged the area. Raindrops caused ripples on the numerous puddles of the stoned ground. A mix of rainwater and a tinge of red streamed on the hollows and gaps of the bricked earth. Blood flowed from the pile of corpses in red robes

It was the ruthless breeze and the light rain that welcomed the dampened rosiness of Moulin's cheeks. He was standing underneath the drizzle of grey clouds. He didn't mind the coldness and the soaked fabric sticking to his skin. With closed eyes, his face was tilted upwards, appearing as if he was relishing the sensation of the light rain that fell upon his face. He didn't mind the coldness... but the cooling hand he had held several minutes ago seemed to imprint in his mind. The sensation pierced through his heart as he recalled the elf's last words.

His eyes opened slightly. Slender fingers clutching the leather strap of the satchel slung over his shoulder. A droplet fell from his long lashes. Moulin didn't know how to tell Phuna about her dear father's passing. He swallowed. Although the child must know about it soon, he didn't have the courage to do it...

He lowered his head. Gaze fixed on the eight black candles inside his satchel.

The candles Phuna's father had told him to obtain.

"Moulin..."

Moulin raised his eyes at the sound of the voice. "My Lord..."

Hadrian gave him a narrow stare, noticing the tight grip of his hands around the strap of his bag as if he afraid to be robbed. "Come to the shade. Don't soak yourself under the rain..."

"..." Moulin scrutinized him silently, feeling an unusual tightness in his throat. His silver eyes were filled with uncertainty. "Do you... think... He wouldn't have died... if..."

"Do not blame yourself... It wasn't your fault..."

The Lord had to exhaust all of his will to restrain himself from pulling Moulin in his arms and let him voice out his troubles. However, with all the people around the courtyard... Moulin would definitely object to it. He didn't want to bring more anxiety to the youth. As he watched the rain pouring endlessly on Moulin, there was self-loathing in his heart. However, he tried, and fortunately, the rain had lessened.

Moulin stared at Hadrian. The tall attractive man even looked even more handsome and desirable under the rain.

He bit back a smile. "Alright..."

Silently, he turned and headed towards one of the ruined sheds where the hostages were resting. Where he knew Eilhara and Snow were residing. When he entered through the curtains entrance he realized how cramped it was despite the spaciousness of the interior. There were about twenty, resting inside. Children and adults the like, huddled closer to each other as if they could not trust anyone else but the person beside them. A few healers were busy trying to heal those who were injured. The soothing ambiance of their mana wafted throughout the room. It gave a slight comfort to the restlessness of the hostages.

At the far corner of the room, Moulin saw Eilhara. A male healer sat beside her, examining her well being. Wearing serious expressions, there were two elven warriors by her side. Moulin quietly made his way towards them while ignoring the curious gazes people were throwing at his way.

"Moulin!" Eilhara's eyes brightened and the little fox on her lap energetically stood up. Snow's eyes were wistfully bright, longing for his dear master.

The guards bowed at him, gratefully acknowledging their princess' savior. Moulin gave them a nod and caught Snow who jumped towards him with enthusiasm. His fingers carefully caressed the stained fur. A frown etched his expression. "You're dirty..."

Snow whimpered. He flashed his moist beady eyes at him, feeling wronged. Snow lowered his head pitifully remembering how he failed to protect his master from that evil man. The little fox snuggled in his master's arm while deeply thinking about how to become stronger. The youth gave a faint smile. This little furball had Moulin very worried... Moulin wouldn't know what to do if he had lost Snow.

"Your highness... It is good to see that you are well..." Moulin bowed slightly to the elven princess sitting before him. His warm silver eyes seemed to creep into her heart

Eilhara felt a shameless flush spread on her face. She coughed and then smiled elegantly. "Thank you... Are you alright as well? Are you not in pain anywhere? Is that why you're here? No, that wouldn't do." She squinted her eyes and hastily turned to the healer beside her. "You stop. Go and see to his injuries..."

The healer turned flustered from the sudden glare of the princess and her two guards.

Moulin furrowed his brows as he shook his head. "There is no need. I am already fine..."

"Oh... Then did you come here to see me?" Her silver eyes sparkled.

Moulin gave a brief chuckle, admiring her childishness. "Yes, I came to see how her highness is faring..."

"Ao!"

Moulin sighs, "And of course to come and fetch Snow..."

The little fox made a sound of satisfaction and climbed up in his master's shoulder. Moulin smiled and reached out a hand to stroke the brat's head. Eilhara smiled faintly as she watched their interactions. However, she had noticed the hint of despair and hopelessness in Moulin's dazzling silver eyes. It made her feel slightly depressed to see her savior unable to fully express the ache in his heart. Eilhara wanted to soothe it herself, however, she remembered the golden-haired man that had embraced him and protected him. The gears clicked in her mind. Deep in her thoughts, she was slightly crestfallen that the job of comforting the young man could not be hers. Moulin's lover seemed like a scary man as well. Although incredibly handsome and masculine, he was quite frightening...

Not long after, Moulin excused himself and exited the tent. He stood under the narrower shade provided by the shed's roof. His gaze swept across the bustling courtyard. His silver eyes narrowed on the corpses of malefics piled like a hill. Black blood blended with rainwater... He frowned. Why was their blood black?

He recalled the victims of the Kron, whose bodies were decorated with black veins. Black blood seeping from their orfices... There was a possible connection to the Eye of Malefic.

"Moulin!"

At the familiar sound, Moulin and Snow turned their attention. Alexander was heaving as he ran under the rain. The discomfort was evident in his weary expression. He didn't like the rain.

When he stood in front of his friend, he grabbed Moulin's shoulders and forcefully shook him. Moulin was shocked by the young master's hidden strength.

"You little fool! Do you have any idea how worried I was?! I thought your little pet had led you to your death! What should I do if something happens to you?! Not only your brothers but your demon lover would have my corpse!" He rasped in one breath. "You haven't even given me the chance to study you yet, you oaf! If you do something reckless again, I might as well dissect you now!"

When the shaking stopped and Alsander gave himself the time to breathe, Moulin and Snow blinked. Their identical eyes were so alike that both of them seemed to share the same soul. Even the shock in their eyes was similar. Moulin was frozen and Snow's fur had stood out of alarm. Both hadn't expected Alsander's outburst...

Letting out a breath, Alsander coughed, realizing his loss of elegance. "I apologize..." he sighed. "That was inappropriate..."

Moulin furrowed his brows, "My brothers?"

Alsander froze.

He steeled his gaze as he flashed a distracting smile. "Oh, I forgot to mention how in the world did you get here?" He grinned as he patted Moulin's shoulder. "Honestly, was the hole a portal? A shortcut that brought you here?" Alsander turned away while feigning a quizzical expression.

Moulin inexpressively stared at him. Did he think he can fool me?

Snow gruffly narrowed his eyes.

Alsander's eyebrows curved upwards. "Look, I-"

"...!"

Suddenly, the earth beneath their feet shook powerfully.

Like a tremor after an explosion. The ground trembled continuously almost knocking people off their feet. The pools on the ground rippled. Dust rained from the ceilings and roof, and rainwater poured. Moulin held the wall close to him in shock. Before he could speak out the tremor stopped. The people around them ceased their work, curious about the sudden earthquake.

Moulin drew his brows together. Silver eyes narrowed. He lifted his gaze and looked around. "What was that?..."

Alsander glanced at him while ignoring the murmurs of the people around him. "I do not know..."

With mutual understanding, both of them entered the drizzle, stepping out from the cover of the roof. Alsander found a soldier hastily running and grabbed him by the shoulder. He asked. "What is happening?"

"W-We must leave this fortress immediately!" He shouted and wrenched Alsander's hand off him. He sprinted away in fright.

Alsander cocked an eyebrow, "Indeed, that is helpful..."

Turning his gaze away, Moulin placed Snow in his satchel, "Go and tell the people with the healers to pack up..."

"Where are you off to-"

His words were interrupted the earth once again strongly trembled. He steeled his feet on the ground and struggled to balance himself. A series of screams entered his ears and he whipped his head towards the shed where the hostages were staying.

A crease appeared between Moulin's brows. "Go!"

Without a thought, both of them separated. With hasty steps, Moulin quickened his pace when another tremor shook the earth. Fortunately, he managed to steady himself after he barely slipped on the wet stoned ground. Calmly, he entered the temporary tent as the sentinels guarding the tent opened the flaps for his entrance. It was unusual but he didn't have the time to pay attention to it. Inside, he saw Rowan and Relena immersed in a serious discussion. At his arrival, the both of them stopped.

"What is happening?" Moulin asked flicking the water off his fingers.

"Earth tremors..." replied Rowan.

"I see that... Tell me, where is Lord Hercullio?"

"He's gone underground. In the fortress. The conveyer will not reach him. There's a restriction..."

Suddenly, a cold breeze swept inside the tent when Moulin exhaled. His silver eyes looked fierce as he stared at Rowan. Relena slightly widened her eyes in surprise. The frost in Moulin's fingertips starts spreading as he spoke again. "What?"

"..." Rowan sighed. Why did it seem like the Lord's personality was rubbing off on Moulin?

Moulin then turned to exit the tent. Uneasy of what the youth would do, Rowan stepped up to stop Moulin. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Where else? Down."

"No, you will not." Rowan blocked his path. His eyes narrowed in determination.

Moulin stared at him. The temperature plummeted. Relena gasped when the table at the center of the area froze in less than a second. Snow who was peeking from within the satchel hid deeper into the bag.

Rowan slightly stepped back. "Moulin-"

"Where have you been?" Moulin gritted his teeth.

The man blocking his way blinked. "...?"

A look of puzzlement crossed his face. Moulin

...

"Forgive me for worrying you..."

A deep voice spoke.

Suddenly, the tent flaps parted revealing a particular lord's expressionless countenance. Lord Hadrian stood before the tent's entrance. His cold gaze fixed at Rowan.

Rowan felt like his throat had become parched. Like a zebra surrounded by a pride of lions while being circled by vultures. He felt as if even his bones would crumble into dust between the fierce gazes of the two lovers. Swallowing, he muttered an apology as he stepped aside, making way for his master.

Rowan felt exhausted all of a sudden as he realized that the most dangerous place in the world was between the Esteemed Lord Hercullio and Moulin Fraunces. He shuddered.