Shadows Beneath the Sun Temple
Morel, who had been listening beside her, couldn't hide his bewilderment at Peran's words.
"S-Sis, sister. That kind of talk..."
"What kind of talk?"
Seeing Peran's calm demeanor, Morel instead glanced around and lowered his voice.
"...Sneaking someone out of the temple prison means defying the authority of the entire Sun Temple—no, all seven great houses! If we get caught, it's not just demotion to training warrior; we could be executed! Even our clan name won't protect us then!"
"Parm Wirson, locked away in that temple prison, has no one watching over him right now. He saved my life, so I'll save his."
It was much like what Morel himself had said. Aware of it, he let out a quiet groan. But then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he continued.
"Sister, reacting purely on emotion won't save Teacher Parm. Instead... right, there's Mayor Lesandorf, isn't there? If we tell him about Teacher Parm's imprisonment, maybe he'll get him out. Even Kasian might release him if the mayor pressures directly."
"Didn't you hear what we just talked about? He hates the mayor. He openly said the mayor should be hanged—not now, but someday. And why would the mayor help Parm Wirson? Do they even know each other?"
"I don't know, but... aren't they the same race?"
Peran looked at Morel with pity.
"Forgot what charge Parm Wirson is facing? Kin-slaying. A renowned scholar, no less. Unless there's clear proof of innocence, they won't release someone caught red-handed at the murder scene just because they're the same race."
"Th-then... what about telling Lady Ishanka...?"
"You've been demoted to training warrior and stuck in the outer halls, so you wouldn't know. Lady Ishanka is under house arrest inside during this clan feud with the patriarch... Anyway, she's in no position to help us."
In the end, Morel's face and ears drooped limply. His features seemed to age years in an instant. He'd talked big about saving the teacher like his own life was on the line, but now that it felt like all their necks were truly at risk, he looked like death warmed over. Well, it was only natural—who wouldn't flinch at the thought of everyone's heads rolling just to save one person?
Kang Jin-cheol, who had been quietly observing the two until then, spoke to Udim beside him.
"Should've come to these two instead of me. They're ready to risk their lives for the teacher."
"I know you'd risk your life for the teacher too, Jin-cheol. And these two were inside the temple. I couldn't reach them."
"..."
Jin-cheol gave a wry smile. This buzzcut bastard—why's he always so extreme? Best to save him without risking necks.And who says he knows me that well, the punk?
Turning his gaze to Peran, he found her and Morel looking back at him. Jin-cheol let out a light sigh.
"I get it—no other options, so we rescue the teacher ourselves. But I trust you're not saying we four just charge the temple's main gate."
"Of course not. That would drag the entire Antela clan into ruin, not just execute me and Morel."
"So, sneak in and extract the teacher from the prison... But is that okay? A heretic like me entering the Sun Temple?"
On his first day in Siol, when Jin-cheol had accepted the truth of the ages in the Third Library, Morel had insisted that lowly-born like him could never enter the Sun Temple. From two months observing in the city, the massive bridge-spanning temple was practically forbidden ground to any but Esai. Though criminals seemed to get in just fine.
"You're not storming the inner sanctum; we're just hitting the outer underground prison to save Teacher Parm. The temple warriors or house elders would rage if they knew, but I'm not that rigid."
Not rigid, my ass. Still a problem if caught. But Peran and Morel were risking their lives anyway. Since they weren't hung up on it, Jin-cheol let it slide.
"Fine. So how do we infiltrate? I know zilch about temple guards or layout—you'll have to brief me to make a plan. Cross the river, or drop from the sky?"
Peran shook her head at Jin-cheol's words.
"Don't even think about crossing the river from outside. You can't enter that way. Guards are tight, and the temple's power protects the outer walls."
"Temple's power?"
"The outer walls hide cannons called 'Sun Arrows.' Even in the ancient war with Sandesiya, the Sun Temple stood untouched by those. They surrendered only when supplies cut off."
Cannons, huh. He'd figured Esai loved swinging swords, but they must see artifact power as superior to guns. More importantly—no food pillar inside? Supplies cut off leading to surrender.
Anyway, river was out, leaving the main gate. Jin-cheol cleared stray thoughts and pressed on.
"Udim and I can't pass for Esai even in disguise. Smuggling Parm Wirson out is another issue. Main gate seems impossible too."
"Right. No disguises or main gate—that's no better than blindly charging."
"So what's the play?"
Peran paused, deep in thought. Morel beside her frowned, sensing her intent.
"Sister, you don't mean the 'Deep Temple Underground'? That's just kids' ghost stories."
"It's not just a ghost story."
"What? Not a ghost story? But..."
"Where do you think our artifacts come from?"
"Artisans repair old ones, craft new from materials... and digs from elsewhere..."
"That's current production share, but historically, Sidalia River basin's biggest artifact source was Siol—especially the Sun Temple. Ever wonder why old Sandesiya Kingdom targeted Siol? Underground got risky past century and sealed, but some artisans still probe upper levels. Don't you study clan history?"
"Uh... but publicly..."
"Yeah, publicly they deny underground mines—even to mayor and council. It's our power. Solve the dangers, and it'll be huge again... After this, study library with me."
"...Yes, sister."
Jin-cheol and Udim's eyes widened at the exchange. What the hell? Talking secrets right in front of us outsiders, you long-ears.
Jin-cheol spoke up.
"Sounds like not bar chatter."
"Noisy place—everyone focused on their tables. No one's near us."
They stay away 'cause you're elite warriors. What reign of terror you pull for folks to avoid eye contact?
Jin-cheol chuckled dryly. Peran grinned at him.
"And you two—about to infiltrate temple depths, spring a prisoner—scared of whispers?"
Taunt? Udim took it that way, snorting and shaking his head.
"No. Tales don't scare me. Killing's done with gun or blade. Tales are tales. I'm not afraid."
"...You're a true Olrog."
"Praise?"
"Yeah, man."
Ignoring Udim's smug look, Jin-cheol turned to Peran.
"So, passages into Sun Temple underground?"
"Precisely—an ancient underground city below. Temple doctrine says remnants from Winter Age, when sun faithful dug deep before temple flames rose. Used for excavating forgotten empire artifacts, antiques... But collapses sealed deeper levels long ago."
"...You sure about spilling this to me?"
Peran smiled sweetly.
"Same goal now: rescue Teacher Parm. Allies share all, no holds barred. That's how you win. And you don't strike me as one to blab secrets—especially ones that screw others."
Jin-cheol studied her smile. Sound logic, but idealistic. How many twist goals for self-gain? If all were this frank, no wars. But they weren't 21st-century humans—post-10,000-year races. Maybe they could live that way. Better than humans? Two months in Siol showed back alleys and fistfights no different from ancient owners. Not Esai nature—Esai before him smiling.
Anyway, buzzcut and long-ear know jack—spouting off.
Jin-cheol shook off fogging thoughts.
"Got it. How to access underground city? From Siol, not temple interior?"
"...That's the tricky part."
"Why?"
"Know rough location, but not exact entrance..."
Damn. That's the key, lady.
Jin-cheol barely stifled a deep sigh. What state was Parm in? Temple underground prison evoked medieval torture. Antela warriors got beaten senseless last time—could smash way in. Imagining Parm eyeless like pirates—pitiful, funny. Pirates probably there too.
"...Harbor side. South docks probably, but warehouses and buildings everywhere..."
"Wait. South docks?"
Peran nodded at Jin-cheol's question.
"Old master mentioned in passing. Path down to underground city from there."
A smile finally crept onto Jin-cheol's lips. Knew the guy. Siol docks' fistfight boss. Scraped cash from laborers, drunks, gamblers.
"Know Metidoti?"
"What's that? Person?"
"Yeah. Funny-named bastard rules docks. Bet he has leads."
"Oh, great. Let's get intel from him."
Jin-cheol grinned, rising. His fist clenched with a crackle. Underworld don would know inside out—or squeeze till he did. Perfect to settle debt too.
As the four exited the meal wall, commotion stirred at Antela Square's edge. Two Esai in odd garb faced a pack of Olrogs glaring daggers. Esai wore rectangular hats with sun emblems, breastplates with red suns. Longer, neater than Antela warriors—reminded Jin-cheol of white priest robes. Olrogs, common Siol thugs, snorted excitedly, surrounding them.
As Jin-cheol opened his mouth, white flashes erupted from the hatted Esai's hands. Shredding air-cracks followed, red blood staining square stones.
"Kyaaak-!"
"...It's them. The ones who took the teacher..."
Screams rose with blood; Udim's mutter clued Jin-cheol. Temple warriors, Parm Wirson's captors—sun doctrine enforcers. Beating random Olrogs hunting escaped Udim.
Flashes from whips coiled belt-like, lashed out. Olrogs rolled bleeding—no deaths, but fight drained.
"Daring in Antela Square..."
Morel growled, hand on sword hilt, poised to charge. Peran blocked him, turning to Jin-cheol and Udim.
"Hide till dusk—prayer time. Udim, cover face."
"But sister, those bastards..."
"Plenty siblings will protest. See—Remisin and her siblings."
Other Esai approached temple warriors, furious, hands on hilts.
"Won't really fight. But brawling in Antela Square means heavy backlash. We slip out in chaos."
As voices rose between temple and Antela warriors, Peran led Jin-cheol, Udim, Morel from square.
Jin-cheol glanced back. Wax-stiff-faced temple warrior faced Antela. Below, unlucky Olrogs bled untreated. First time pitying Olrogs.
*
Sunset wrapped Siol docks in red-orange. Warehouses, buildings, passing folk all glowed same. Jin-cheol recalled arrival sunset, gazing west.
"Something there? Sun hurts eyes."
"..."
Jin-cheol turned. Udim tilted head, usual gloomy mug.
"Whatever. You know how to shoot that?"
"Of course."
Udim hefted rifle proudly. They hid on warehouse roof near Metidoti's lair. Rifle was Jin-cheol's loan—couldn't fistfight underworld boss barehanded. Jin-cheol spun revolver idly.
Opposite roof, face peeked: Peran.
"No trouble?"
"Sunning. Mission good?"
She'd booked ship to Zipain post-rescue. Best to clear name later; save from zealots first. Suspect—historian's servant—in cell next to Parm. Survive, and I'll rip confessions.
"Ship easy. Departs dawn—extract teacher, stay hidden till then."
Jin-cheol and Udim followed her down. Morel waited below, nodding.
Dusk thinned docks traffic. Seeing Peran-Morel garb, folk averted eyes or bowed politely.
"Lead on, Jin-cheol. To that Metidoti."
Jin-cheol ahead, Peran-Udim-Morel wove warehouse maze. One housed Metidoti's fistfight bar.
Spotting it, Jin-cheol turned.
"Alright. Everyone ready for a smoke bre—"
Second-floor window shattered; Esai flew out.
"...Well, shit?"
Jin-cheol's superhuman eyes caught face through shards. Involuntary chuckle—he'd met last night. Next, door exploded; three tumbled out. Inside, fuzzy whirlwind staff-smashed: Kampoeni Aiman, self-styled "Sword Sage," who'd randomly offered Jin-cheol sword lessons.