Erwin took a sip from his glass. Holite did the same before letting out a sigh. He gazed up at the starry sky for a moment, then spoke:
“At first, we thought it might be a revolution, but that didn’t quite match the events. Then we considered a coup, but the country’s army seems to remain loyal to its king,” he said.
“All right, but then… who did this?” Erwin asked.
“An organization: the Tenium Zevos. Does that name ring a bell?”
The old man fell into thought, staring into his glass of brown liquor. The wind made the liquid tremble, and the moonlight reflected perfectly off its surface.
“No… Well, I did hear about it several years ago. A Ten Monk—Pen Menli?” Erwin said hesitantly.
“The Ten Menki, yes. Commonly known as ‘The Flat-Hatted Thieves.’ Probably a reference to the nobles’ pointed hats, which were fashionable for centuries,” Holite replied.
Erwin struck his fist against his palm, then said, a little excited:
“That’s it! That’s the one! But I imagine those poor thieves were arrested, right? It’s been a while… Five years? No, ten?”
“Around seventeen years,” Holite said. “Their leader, Yozma, was killed while handing food to a child in the street. It seems that child was bait set up by the authorities. Let’s just say the king himself ordered his death rather than his arrest,” Holite added, taking another sip from his glass.
“Poor boy. He was young, if I remember correctly? That’s what happens when you try to stand up to a king directly. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor, until it costs you your life,” Erwin said sadly.
Holite nodded, then adjusted his hat, which had slipped slightly in the light breeze.
“Yozma was certainly the leader, but two other men were with him most of the time. They were identified, yet law enforcement never managed to find them: Kôsui and Hunkrayn.”
“Hmm… I see. But what’s the connection between that little band of thieves and what happened in Nothran’s capital?”
“Yozma was betrayed by the very people he fed. He came from the slums connected to Nishtar; he escaped them through petty theft, then armed robbery. He used to frequent a slum called Pomexa—a name derived from a large pharmaceutical company, Pomexalim. Some of the residents there were paid handsomely to lead Yozma into a dead end in the capital. And the king rolled out the red carpet for Yozma: elite mages of air, fire, and water, not to mention an army equipped with experimental firearms. He was shot on the spot,” Holite said with a sigh.
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“Hmm… I see. That’s terrible. But I still don’t see the correla—No… Don’t tell me that…” Erwin said, shocked, as realization struck.
Holite smiled faintly.
“Exactly, Mr. Erwin. The Ten Menki is the same organization as the Tenium Zevos. But we’re going even further: Hunkrayn and Kôsui are back, and certainly not to feed the poor again. They’re the ones who launched the attack on the capital.”
Erwin listened, eyes wide, before asking:
“I… But how can you be so sure, Holite? Weren’t those thieves disbanded after their leader’s death?”
“Oh, they were. The authorities even found their hideouts; there was no one left, and a huge amount of gold, gems, and silver notes was recovered.”
“Then with what resources? How did they pull this off? Just the two of them? That seems improbable.”
Holite lowered his head for a moment before continuing:
“There are two possibilities: either they had other hideouts, or they were funded. I understand your confusion. Nothran is a country that hasn’t communicated with Suuran for over five years. Even we at the WOJ had difficulty obtaining information about what happened on the 26th. To answer your question: no, they didn’t do this alone. We assume there were at least ten people who were fully part of the Tenium Zevos; I couldn’t name them here for several reasons.”
Erwin took a sip from his glass, which was now empty.
“Shall I pour you another, Mr. Erwin?”
The old man nodded slightly. Holite refilled Erwin’s glass.
“Holite, you mentioned two options: either they prepared everything with their own resources, or they were funded… So you know more about this, right?”
Holite placed his hat on the table for a moment, revealing his long silver hair, which shimmered under the moonlight.
“Yes, Mr. Erwin,” he said, raising his index finger. “It leads back to the great families. Everything was orchestrated. We don’t know why several families united for a common goal. I personally thought it was about power, but I’m not certain. And if you’re asking how we know this, it’s thanks to my comrade Harry.”
Erwin’s eyes widened before he asked:
“Harry? The young boy from the Malkham family?”
Holite nodded.
“Well, he’s not exactly young anymore,” he said with a smile.
Erwin began to laugh.
“I thought the Malkham family was finished years ago, hahaha! It’s good to hear at least one of them is still alive! I hope the others are too, of course.”
Holite picked up his hat and stood. He made a respectful gesture.
“That’s all, Mr. Erwin. Thank you for your hospitality.”
The old man stood as Holite turned to leave.
“Holite! Why did these people attack my family?!” he cried out.
Holite turned back.
“Unfortunately, I know nothing about that. All we know is what I’ve told you. But my intuition tells me the Tenium Zevos had no personal quarrel with your family. So… Probably the nobles, or someone not directly part of the Tenium Zevos. A new recruit, or another organization affiliated with them. But that, alas, I don’t know either.”
Erwin lowered his eyes. He felt a deep frustration—having lost his only daughter without knowing the exact reason behind it. He had no specific name, only suspicions about the nature of the person or people responsible.
“One more thing, Mr. Erwin. The mercenaries wore a black crescent moon.”
Erwin nodded. Holite removed his hat for a moment as a sign of respect before disappearing into the darkness.
Erwin thought to himself:
There’s no doubt—the demons are back… But real demons, like the ones I fought once before. Could he be back? I hope not. Truly, I hope not…