Halochassis

It was a quiet afternoon in the slums, one of those rare stretches of peace when no gunfire echoed through the alleys and no panicked shouting erupted from the streets. Sunlight filtered through gaps between rusted rooftops, casting uneven patches of gold across the worn wooden floor of the Iron Heaven Bar. The air carried the familiar mixture of spilled beer, old timber, tobacco smoke, and machine oil drifting in from nearby workshops. Outside, the distant sounds of merchants haggling and children running through narrow alleyways blended into a constant murmur that served as the slums’ heartbeat.

On days like these, Risha worked as the bar’s hostess. Despite her youthful appearance and gentle demeanor, everyone in the slums knew exactly who she was. To the locals and the black market alike, Risha was both beloved and feared—a cute yet deadly assassin whose knives had ended more lives than most could imagine. 

The regulars greeted her warmly whenever she passed by, and even the roughest bandits showed her a level of respect they rarely offered anyone else. Her reputation had become something of a legend among the people who called the slums home.

After finishing her routine cleaning, Risha folded the damp cloth she had been using and set it aside. She crouched behind the counter and pulled out a sturdy wooden box reinforced with metal corners. The hinges creaked softly as she opened it, revealing rows of neatly arranged smoke grenades. Picking them up one by one, she carefully counted each cylinder while jotting numbers onto a worn sheet of paper. The scratching of her pencil filled the otherwise quiet room.

”Only seventeen smoke bombs left, huh,” Risha muttered to herself as she examined the final grenade before placing it back into the box. A slight frown appeared on her face. ”I guess we really spent almost all of our smoke grenades during that last operation.”

Across the room, Adzeel was busy pushing an old bulletin board toward the center of the bar. The weathered wheels beneath it protested loudly, producing a long, squeaky screech that made Risha instinctively twitch one ear. The unpleasant noise scraped against her senses like a dull blade dragging across metal.

”Well, we exchanged two hundred of them for three Halochassis,” Adzeel replied casually. He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead before giving the board one final shove. ”I’d still call that a good transaction.”

Risha understood his reasoning. Three Halochassis were worth a fortune and could dramatically strengthen the Iron Bandits’ military power. From a purely strategic standpoint, the operation had been an overwhelming success. Still, Adzeel conveniently left out the part where ten of their men had lost their lives and another forty had been wounded during the battle. 

The memory lingered in Risha’s mind—the smell of blood mixing with gunpowder, the cries of injured comrades, and the exhausted faces of those who had survived. She felt a pang of sympathy for the sacrifices that had been made, yet she could not deny the objective truth. Considering they had confronted four Celestial Wardens and lived to tell the tale, the Iron Bandits had emerged with a victory far greater than anyone had expected.

Adzeel reached into his coat and pulled out a silver pocket watch. The metallic click of its lid echoed softly through the room. He studied the hands for a moment before snapping it shut.

”It’s getting late,” he said. ”Have you called the boys for our scheduled meeting?”

”Yes, Bandit Leader.” Risha immediately straightened her posture and gave a respectful bow. ”I also sent crows to Mister Nox’s and Mister Rebellium’s residences. The birds returned this morning, so I believe the messages were successfully delivered.”

”Good.” A grin slowly spread across Adzeel’s face, revealing his excitement. ”Because today is the day we reveal our entire plans from here on out.”

As preparations continued, the previously quiet bar gradually came to life. One by one, members of the Iron Bandits entered through the front door. Heavy boots stomped across the wooden floorboards while conversations filled the air. Some gathered around tables to play cards, others ordered cheap beer and bowls of salted nuts to pass the time while waiting for the meeting to begin. Laughter occasionally erupted from a corner, only to be drowned out by the clinking of mugs and the scraping of chairs.

The scent of freshly poured alcohol soon spread throughout the establishment.

Before long, two familiar figures appeared at the entrance.

The first was Aether, the blonde engineer whose confident smile seemed permanently attached to his face. Beside him walked Shin, the black-haired scholar whose expression remained as unreadable as ever. Their arrival immediately caught Risha’s attention.

Without wasting a second, she hurried toward the door and greeted them with a polite bow.

”Good evening, Mister Shin Rebellium and Mister Aether Nox,” she said. ”I’m glad you received our message.”

”Good evening, Risha.” Aether greeted her with his usual friendly smile.

Shin remained silent, as expected. However, after a brief moment, he offered a small smile in her direction. It was subtle enough that many people would have missed it entirely, but Risha noticed immediately. For someone as reserved as Shin, even such a simple gesture felt surprisingly meaningful.

”Should I bring the two of you some beer while waiting for the others?” Risha asked.

”Don’t mind if I do,” Aether replied cheerfully before turning toward his companion. ”How about you, Shin?”

”Yeah. Give me one as well.”

”Right away.”

Risha quickly made her way behind the counter. She grabbed a wooden mallet and knocked open a fresh barrel, releasing the rich aroma of fermented grain. Golden beer flowed smoothly from the tap into two large mugs, forming thick layers of foam at the top. Once they were filled, she carefully carried them across the room, weaving between tables crowded with bandits.

She placed the drinks in front of Aether and Shin before stepping back. The two men immediately began talking among themselves, appearing far more comfortable with each other’s company than when they had first met. Watching them converse so naturally, Risha couldn’t help but feel that the atmosphere inside the Iron Heaven Bar had changed. For the first time in a long while, there was a sense that something significant was about to begin.

”I see that you two are getting along.” Risha smiled as she rested a hand against the counter. The warm lantern light reflected in her crimson eyes while she observed the pair. ”Were you acquainted before the Halochassis raid, perhaps?”

”Ah, no.” Aether lightly shook his head before taking a sip from his mug. The cold beer left a thin layer of foam on his upper lip, which he quickly wiped away. ”Shin and I just happen to live in the same district of Luminous City. Though I have to admit, I was pretty surprised when I learned that Shin was best friends with Professor Gagarin.”

Aether let out a short chuckle.

”You know, the same Professor Gagarin who was considered a terror boss by half the kingdom.”

”Ain’t that the truth.” Shin casually waved his hand as if dismissing an insignificant topic. His expression remained calm, though his eyes briefly drifted toward the amber liquid inside his mug. ”So, what’s this meeting all about?”

”It’s about the future of the Iron Bandits.” Risha’s smile widened slightly.

”Future...” Aether echoed as he leaned back in his chair.

”Of the Iron Bandits?” Shin continued.

For a brief moment, silence settled between the two men. The noise of the bar seemed distant as both found themselves contemplating the same subject.

In truth, they had already discussed their futures several times before.

Both of them had joined the Iron Bandits for similar reasons. Revenge.

Aether sought vengeance against the Celestial Wardens for everything they had taken from him. Shin carried an even deeper grudge, one forged from betrayal, loss, and the death of people he cared about. Yet despite their shared objective, neither man envisioned remaining an Iron Bandit forever.

Once the Celestial Wardens were defeated, their paths would diverge.

Shin planned to leave immediately. The Iron Bandits were merely a means to an end, a temporary alliance that provided him with resources and manpower. Aether felt much the same. Although he respected many of the people gathered inside the bar, he never saw himself living the life of a criminal after their war was over.

Thinking about it now, Aether realized he understood Adzeel better than most.

The bandit leader was driven by hatred as much as anyone else in the room. Everything he did ultimately revolved around one goal: killing the Chosen One. Aether strongly suspected that once Adzeel achieved that objective, he too would walk away from the outlaw life. There would be no reason for him to continue leading bandits when the source of his obsession was gone.

Still, Aether kept those thoughts to himself.

Voicing them now would only dampen the group’s morale. Men fought harder when they believed their cause had a future.

Suddenly, a loud clap echoed throughout the bar.

The sharp sound cut through dozens of conversations like a gunshot.

Every head immediately turned toward the front of the room.

Standing atop a makeshift wooden platform was Adzeel himself. The bandit leader held a large mug of beer in one hand while the other remained raised from the clap. His imposing figure commanded attention without effort. The lively chatter gradually died away until only the crackling of lantern flames and the occasional creak of floorboards could be heard.

”Thank you all for attending this strategy meeting for the Iron Bandits,” Adzeel announced, his voice carrying across the room.

Bandits shifted in their seats and directed their full attention toward him.

”As we all know, we have successfully stolen four Halochassis.”

A wave of excited murmurs spread throughout the crowd.

”And that,” Adzeel continued while raising his mug slightly, ”was only Phase One.”

The room grew quieter.

A grin slowly stretched across his face.

”Phase Two is where we conduct our revenge. We will hunt down the Celestial Wardens and kill them all!”

For a second, silence lingered.

Then the entire bar erupted.

Cheers exploded from every corner of the room. Mugs slammed against tables. Some bandits pumped their fists into the air while others shouted curses directed at the Celestial Wardens. The floor itself seemed to vibrate beneath the collective excitement.

”I suggest we attack them at night!” one bandit shouted over the noise.

”You idiot!” another immediately yelled back. ”Even with four Halochassis, it was hard enough fighting just one Celestial Warden!”

”That was before! Things are different now!”

”Different my ass!”

Arguments quickly broke out across several tables.

”Have you seen Azazel?” a particularly drunk bandit exclaimed while pointing toward Shin. ”He’s the first person to ever wound the Untouchable Windwalker!”

Several nearby bandits nodded enthusiastically.

”Even the Demon King couldn’t do that!”

”Maybe we actually have a chance after all!”

The optimism spread rapidly throughout the room.

However, hearing those conversations only irritated Shin. He silently tightened his grip around his mug. The cold metal handle dug into his fingers as he stared at the table.

They were glorifying him. Worse, they were glorifying a lie.

Shin knew better than anyone how that battle had actually unfolded. He had not overpowered Lireina through superior strength, skill, or strategy. He had exploited her weakness. The only reason he managed to wound the Untouchable Windwalker was because he had taken a hostage and forced her into an impossible situation.

He remembered the hesitation in her eyes.

He remembered disabling her Autonomous Evasion.

He remembered striking when she could no longer defend herself.

There had been nothing honorable about it.

If the circumstances were different, if Lireina had been free to fight without restrictions, Shin doubted he would have landed a single meaningful hit.

The praise felt hollow.

Aether, seated beside him, noticed the subtle tension immediately. Shin’s expression had barely changed, but Aether had spent enough time around him to recognize the signs. The scholar’s silence spoke louder than any complaint.

Realizing where Shin’s thoughts were headed, Aether decided to redirect the meeting before the discussion spiraled further into hero worship.

He slowly stood from his chair. The movement immediately attracted attention.

Several nearby bandits stopped talking. Others turned their heads toward him.

Aether raised one hand politely.

”May I suggest our next phase, Bandit Leader?”

The room gradually fell silent once more.

Adzeel looked down from the podium, curiosity flickering across his face.

”Sure,” he said. ”What is it?”

Now every eye in the bar was focused on Aether.

”We have reasonable belief that even if we can match the Celestial Wardens’ strength, it will never be enough to defeat the Chosen One,” Aether said, his tone steady but sharp with conviction. He let the words settle over the room before continuing, the amber light from the lanterns glinting faintly off his glasses. ”So I suggest we fight smarter. We take them out one by one, and we do it before they have the chance to call for help.”

A murmur rolled through the bar like a low wave, with several bandits exchanging looks and whispering to one another in rough, excited tones. The room smelled of beer, sweat, and old wood, but beneath that restless atmosphere was something sharper now—anticipation. Adzeel listened without interrupting, one hand wrapped around his mug while the other rested on the edge of the makeshift podium.

”That is a good call,” Adzeel said after a moment, nodding slowly. ”But who do you suggest we take down first?”

The bandits began speaking among themselves in scattered bursts, some throwing out names while others argued over which Warden was the most dangerous. Their voices overlapped in a rising hum of strategy and bloodlust. Amid the noise, Shin pushed back his chair and stood. The scraping sound of wood against the floor cut cleanly through the chatter, and the room quieted almost at once.

”I suggest we eliminate the Silent Warlock first,” Shin said.

His voice was calm, but there was a cold edge to it, the kind that made the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand up. He looked across the room with an almost lazy confidence, as if he were discussing the removal of a nuisance rather than the assassination of a powerful enemy. ”He gave us the most trouble during the fight at the Northern Fortress. And… he is the one most vulnerable out of the seven.”

Adzeel narrowed his eyes slightly, studying Shin with renewed interest. ”What makes you say that?”

Shin’s smile slowly returned, thin and unsettling. The corners of his mouth curled with a quiet, predatory amusement that did not reach his eyes.

”Because the Silent Warlock is always isolated in one place,” Shin said, each word measured and deliberate. ”Far away from Luminous City. I know because he often visits the Librarium. I know his address. And I know which academy he resides at. It’s all written in his library card.”

The last words came with a dark, satisfied smile, one that made him look less like a scholar and more like a hunter who had already marked his prey.