The Hound's Map and the Hound's Shadow
Rye Redford stared at the map spread across the table, his sharp eyes narrowing as if he could already see the threads of fate unraveling before him.
The target named Julio had been taken care of. That left four names on the list now.
Philia Serios and Diana Deschubella sat across from him, plates of food between them, heads bent over the same parchment as if it held the secrets of the universe.
It was really annoying how the remaining targets had scattered so far apart. Abigail’s destination was almost impossible to guess.
“Where do you think Abigail went?” Philia asked, her voice still carrying that polite formality she reserved for instructors and serious matters.
“I’ve got a rough idea,” Rye replied, tapping his finger on the mark labeled Yandes in the west. “This is it.”
Philia looked up, her analytical eyes meeting his. “Elin said Yandes was the merchant who gained his wealth by… well, you know.”
“Yeah,” Rye grunted. “Pretty well-known in business circles. Easy target.”
“So we’re taking them in order?” Diana asked, her bright blue hair swinging as she leaned in, playfully tugging the edge of the map toward herself.
“Pretty much,” Rye said. “Take them one by one and finish with Pibrut last.”
“Pibrut?” Philia repeated, scanning the northern border of the map. “That’s a noble territory. The Bel Federation has strong noble houses, and even without a fief, he’d have knights and soldiers of his own.”
Rye nodded. “Dangerous, but doable if you don’t rush.”
Philia’s forehead wrinkled as she studied the map again. “When I saw Jack… I mean, One-Eyed Jack… he looked like he already knew we were after him. He probably ran into Aslan.”
“Maybe,” Rye said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Speaking of which… did that idiot actually die?”
“Aslan?” Diana laughed. “Even with a sword in his gut he’d probably jump up like a rubber band.”
The group didn’t worry too much about Aslan. He was built like a wall and hit like a siege engine.
Philia ignored the joke and pointed at the mark for Laslo. “I think Abigail might have changed her route because she guessed we’d be following the obvious path. Laslo isn’t easy.”
“He’s the boss of the underworld in Beluken,” Diana explained. “Runs the back alleys like they’re his personal playground. Still, Elin said even he’s dangerous.”
“One city, but he acts like a king there,” Philia added. “Even the nobles who rule the fiefs avoid crossing him.”
Rye looked at the mark for a long moment, then shook his head. “Abigail’s top priority right now is revenge. She’s got multiple targets and real danger on her tail. What do you think she’ll do?”
Philia and Diana exchanged a glance.
“Keep as many people as possible?” Philia suggested quietly.
“Bingo,” Rye said, snapping his fingers with a grin. “That’s why you start with the easy ones. Yandes first.”
“Then we head straight for him?” Philia asked, tilting her head.
“Probably,” Rye said, rubbing his chin. “But I don’t know when we’ll pass Jack’s path. Might be smart to poke the bear a little first. See if I can get a reaction.”
“He doesn’t look like the type who would talk easily,” Diana said.
“Exactly,” Rye agreed. “We have two choices. Go straight to Jack, wait for him, and strike. Or chase Abigail and take the risk she might slip away.”
They both stared at the map, silent for a moment, the weight of the decisions hanging between them.
Rye suddenly leaned forward, eyes fixed on something far beyond the map. Philia and Diana followed his gaze.
In the distance, a small crowd had gathered. Two horses stood among them.
Philia’s brows furrowed. “Zeroa?”
“Could be,” Rye said. “That kid gets into trouble without trying.”
He stood up and walked toward the commotion. Black Horse watched calmly from the side, but Piyo looked exhausted, still carrying both of them around.
Before they could get closer, a nobleman in expensive clothes was yelling at Zeroa, jabbing a finger in his face.
“You worthless scum—how dare you talk back in public like this?!”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong—” Zeroa started, voice small.
“You keep going and I’ll—”
Rye arrived and sighed, already looking disappointed. “Typical Bel Federation.”
The Bel Federation was famous for its rigid class system. Nobles treated commoners like street dogs. Even when a noble was in the wrong, the commoner had to apologize on their knees.
Zeroa, who had grown up only in the Empire where classes were fading, had apparently decided he could speak his mind. His father’s face turned red with rage.
Rye walked over and casually slung an arm around Zeroa’s shoulders. “Hello. What’s going on?”
“Who the hell are you?! You dare block my path and then stand there staring at the sky like you’re not afraid of it?! I’ll teach this stinking little—”
Several knights stepped forward toward the noble. Philia and Diana moved ahead of Rye, shooting them warning looks.
The knights hesitated, hands on their swords, but the noble’s expression twisted into something sly and ugly.
“Mercenaries, are you? Still, your faces look clean enough. If you beg for mercy, I might even forgive these filthy beasts.”
“Let me give you a quick lesson. In the Bel Federation, how do you treat people?”
Rye ignored the noble and the knights completely, smiling lazily at Zeroa. “Respect, right? Being polite?”
“Wrong. You don’t give respect to pigs.”
The noble started yelling again, but Rye didn’t even turn. He walked over to Philia and Diana, slung an arm around both of them, and bowed with perfect aristocratic manners.
“Excuse me, noble sir. I’m Baron Rye Redford of the Empire. This is Viscountess Diana Deschubella, daughter of the Deschubella house, and this is Countess Philia Serios, eldest daughter of Count Serios. You wanted us to apologize?”
Philia and Diana blinked in surprise. The noble’s face drained of color.
“W-what?! You— you dare mock a noble?! You dare insult a noble by pretending to be one—!”
Rye simply pulled a small imperial crest from his pocket and held it up in front of the noble’s face.
“Pigs only know how to snivel when they’re facing someone stronger.”
Zeroa stared at him in stunned silence.
The noble was so pale now he looked like a ghost. Rye gave a small, cold smile.
“Shall we see what happens when you mock the nobles of the Empire?”
“Wait— please—!”
“Fine, fine,” Rye said, patting the noble on the shoulder like an old friend. “Nothing major happened. You just insulted Diana and Philia a little. Nobles can do that sometimes. Their fathers will be mad, but—”
He laughed and gave the noble another friendly pat on the shoulder.
Even though they were on the same side—having fought the same Keilen Kingdom—the difference in imperial power was enormous. No matter how much the noble had strutted in his own territory, to the Empire’s nobility he was just a young lamb.
Rye marched the noble straight back to his estate, tore everything he could get his hands on, and walked out laughing like a madman.
The noble and his father had come out to see him off, but Rye handed the travel permit he’d “acquired” to Philia.
“Show them that and they’ll let you through immediately. Head straight for Laslo and stop Abigail. We can’t let her go too far.”
“What about Yandes?” Philia asked, glancing at the paper.
“Forget him. Going after Laslo is cleaner. We’ll take care of Yandes later.”
Philia stared at the permit for a long time, her expression darkening. “Is Abigail’s revenge really right?”
“Revenge isn’t about right or wrong,” Rye said, swinging up onto Black Horse. “It’s just self-satisfaction. That’s all it ever is.”
He looked back at Zeroa and Diana. “You two follow Philia.”
“Rye-kang, are you trying to separate us on purpose?” Diana pouted, narrowing her eyes.
“Yeah,” Rye said, nodding. “I’m going to prepare a trap for Pibrut. Abigail’s final target. I’ll handle that myself.”
“I can fight alone!” Philia protested. “You don’t have to take me.”
Zeroa looked worried. “If you go like this, we’ll worry. Please bring Philia with you.”
“No,” Rye said. “Laslo isn’t the kind of person you can deal with alone. He might attack you. Zeroa will help in a big fight, and Diana has quick wits—she’ll be useful when facing him.”
The three students stayed silent, but their eyes burned with quiet resentment.
Rye shrugged. “Besides, we’re not here for the tournament. We’ll settle that later. For now, the three of us need to move fast and crush Abigail before she causes too much damage.”
Philia, Diana, and Zeroa looked at him with complicated expressions.
“One more thing,” Rye added. “If you want to help Abigail’s revenge, then go ahead and help.”
The students stared at him in disbelief.
Rye just grinned. “Now that you know the full story, you can decide for yourselves. Since we’re going together anyway, I’ll fill the boring parts of the journey with a story about a poor girl. I don’t know the whole thing—I only heard part from Elin—but I know the basics.”
They had rushed here just to stop Abigail.
Zeroa and Philia had come because they studied with him at the academy. Diana had read the letter and knew the situation, but she didn’t know Abigail’s past. Rye told the story calmly, voice steady.
* * *
“Cough… who… who sent this? Was it Laslo?!”
Yandes, the man who had built an empire from nothing, now looked pitiful. White hair, thin frame, bound to the bed, he glared at the red-haired girl standing in front of him.
“Laslo sent the daughter of Ten Thousand Evils!”
Abigail’s red hair and eyes made him curse. She had heard every insult from the mercenaries of the Bel Federation—Devil of All Nations, Ten Thousand Evils, the whole list. She actually kind of liked it.
Every time they called her names, she felt their fear and pain like a sweet song.
She gave a quiet laugh, lowered the mask covering her face, and leaned close to Yandes.
“You don’t know me?”
“Who the hell do you think you are, insulting me like this?! I’m Yandes! In Urveli, one word from me and even nobles tremble! You think you can survive after doing this to me?!”
Abigail watched his face twist in confusion, then raised her mask again and began pouring oil around him in a wide circle.
Yandes screamed curses, but she ignored him completely. When she finished, she tossed the empty bucket away.
“The muffins you gave me were delicious.”
“Muffins…?”
“The village girl from Kpen actually made it big? Your house must be nice.”
At the name Kpen, Yandes’s eyes widened.
Few people still remembered where he was from. Red hair and eyes were rare. He racked his brain and remembered the face of that witch.
“You… you’re that witch—!”
“You remember? Thanks.”
Abigail smiled sweetly and dragged the tip of her sword across the floor. A circle of flame erupted in the oil, and fierce heat swallowed Yandes whole.
“Aaaah! You damned bitch!! Aaaah!!”
“Laugh,” she whispered. “Linda laughed too, even in the end.”
Sitting on her heels, watching his suffering, Abigail’s eyes curved into a smile. Even through the mask, her eyes looked happy.
Yandes’s head fell off. No more screams.
When the flames died, Abigail stood up, face cold and expressionless, and walked away.
Along the corridor she had just left, the bodies of countless soldiers he had hired lay scattered like broken dolls.
The white marble floor was soaked red with blood. Every step Abigail took left red footprints that slowly faded again.
By the time she finally slipped out, the flames had already consumed the entire estate. From the city, it glowed brighter than anything else.
Abigail slipped into the back alleys, leaning against a wall to catch her breath. She had pushed too hard.
The mansion was in the middle of the city. She had used too much mana setting up large soundproofing spells just to handle Yandes quietly. And the soldiers guarding it had been too many. Some of them were famous mercenaries. She had taken a few wounds herself while taking them down before he could escape.
She pulled out a potion and drank it with bloody hands, trying to stop the bleeding. The wounds healed, but her stamina drained and exhaustion pressed in. A drop of the potion spilled onto her lips.
She sat down hard, unable to stand, and slowly steadied her breathing.
She drew a line through Yandes’s name on the paper, then reached into her pocket for the candy Seria had given her.
The sticky sweet melted in her mouth and she gave a small, hollow laugh.
Emperor Terakan had gained courage from a packet of those same multi-colored candies on Seria’s Day. He had used it to build the Empire.
But for Abigail, the candy held no power and no hope. The sweetness was gone, leaving only bitterness and a hollow feeling.
She closed her eyes and saw Linda smiling at her.
Black hair tied in a messy knot, warm brown eyes looking at her with gentle affection.
Abigail knew it was a hallucination, but she reached out anyway and touched Linda’s cheek.
Linda took her hand and smiled. “Abigail, let’s play hide and seek.”
A small house appeared on a green hill in front of her.