Those who resisted have been struck to the ground, those who surrendered are gathered in the square, and mercenaries are tossing usable supplies into wagons. Amidst this, only the giant red-haired man shows little interest in checking the loot or the trembling prisoners. Whistling, he walks between the charred remains of houses like a beast searching for prey.

His flaming red hair is disheveled with sweat and soot, and dried blood flecks his tanned cheeks. Just by stepping into a narrow alley, his massive frame seems to displace the very air remaining there.

Deep in that alley, where the smell of soot rises, the man finds Guest.

Guest is huddled against a pile of rubble, looking like a cornered animal. Fingers stained with dust and soot grip a small blade tightly, desperately pointing the tip at the man. However, the hands are shaking uncontrollably, unable to hide the terror.

In the next moment, Guest steels their resolve and thrusts the blade forward.

But before the tip can reach him, Valdo's massive hand catches the wrist. With a light twist, Guest's arm is forced aside, and the gripping fingers give way easily. With the ease of taking a toy from a child, the blade passes into the man's hand.

Valdo glances at the stolen weapon before tossing it behind him as if he's already lost interest. The dry clatter of metal echoes deep into the scorched alley.