The sun began to filter through the narrow slit windows of the barracks, painting the stone walls in a warm shade of orange. Sky jumped out of bed almost instantly. He was excited about breakfast—his mind already filled with images of mountains of delicious food, fragrant sweets, and juicy meat.

  But the moment he reached the mess hall, the dream shattered like glass.

  Before him were only bowls filled with a grayish slop, a mash of potatoes and beans that gave off anything but an inviting smell. The recruits ate in silence, resigned. A short distance away, veteran soldiers sat at a separate table, served colorful food and rich dishes, like nobles at a banquet.

  Sky dropped onto a bench, staring at his bowl in disgust.

  “Seriously?” he muttered. “This is animal food…”

  A thought flashed through his mind. If I stay here too long, I’ll go crazy… or starve to death. He was already beginning to seriously consider escaping from Castle Rock—preferably before completely losing his mind.

  The mess hall doors burst open with a loud crash.

  A red-haired recruit with a hostile glare marched in. He looked like someone already fed up with everything. Without saying a word, he grabbed a tray and handed it to the cook, expecting to be served. When he saw the same slop that had disgusted Sky, his face twisted with rage.

  “What is this shit?!” he shouted, hurling the plate against the counter.

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  An icy silence fell over the hall.

  Then the cook, veins bulging in his neck, stepped forward with a growl. “Care to repeat that, brat?!”

  “You heard me!” the recruit barked, shoving the cook.

  In an instant, the two were face to face, and other soldiers rushed in to separate them. But instead of calming things down, chaos erupted. Tables overturned, fists flew, and shouts filled the room.

  Sky found himself smiling.

  “Oh, finally. Some action.”

  And without hesitation, he jumped into the chaos. Not out of heroism. Not to defend anyone. But simply because he was bored.

  Punches, knee strikes, wild and instinctive movements. Sky fought while laughing, as if everything were a secret game only he understood. Every blow flying around him was just wind to slip through.

  His one true goal? To have fun.

  Chaos Interrupted

  A sharp crack thundered through the room.

  Everyone froze.

  There, standing in the doorway, was him. Captain Sharlok.

  His imperial uniform was immaculate, not a single crease out of place. The dark green cloak draped over his shoulders like a living shadow. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

  His gaze—cold and surgical—cut through the hall like an invisible blade.

  In a single motion, with no apparent effort, he grabbed Sky by the collar with one hand and the red-haired recruit with the other. He lifted them off the ground as if they were nothing more than empty sacks, then dragged them outside. Without a word. Without slowing down.

  The other soldiers parted instinctively as he passed, as if fear itself were a physical reflex.

  Only after dragging them into his office did Sharlok finally speak. His voice was calm, but every syllable carried the weight of a final order.

  “You two… have a remarkable talent for trouble.”

  The red-haired recruit tore himself free with an angry jerk.

  “My name is Barron Shark. And I won’t tolerate being treated like trash.”

  Sky, on the other hand, smiled carefree, as if he hadn’t sensed the tension in the air at all.

  “I’m Sky Light! Nice to meet you!”

  Sharlok merely stared at them. No smile. Not even a blink.

  “Perfect,” he said at last, icy calm. “Sky and Shark. From this moment on… you ar

  e punishment partners.”

  —

  Next Episode — The Scaffold of Balance