—What do you mean? —Yulian raised an eyebrow.

  —I’m not sure… I’ll go back and ask Primo something. Can you spare some coins? —Damien held out his hand.

  —Suit yourself. I’m going back to the hotel, I’m exhausted. —He gave him a few coins and walked away.

  —You again? You know the rules—if you want information, buy something. —Primo said with a sly smile.

  —Tell me about this town. Not just the ghosts. How does it work? —Damien asked.

  Primo explained that the Hammiz tribe had protected the town for generations. Since before he was born, they had surrounded the outskirts with talismans capable of repelling cryptids and other malicious entities. The only beings seemingly immune to that protection were ghosts. The people revered the Hammiz as heroes. Crime was practically nonexistent under their watch.

  Even so, from time to time—very rarely—crimes did occur. And they weren’t petty thefts or assaults, but acts of extreme violence. Like the case of Clara.

  —What’s in that strange warehouse next to where the tribe lives? —Damien asked.

  —Honestly, I don’t know. No one has ever seen it open. Those who’ve gotten close say they feel a sigh that fades away. No one goes in there, not even the Hammiz, as far as I know. —Primo shrugged indifferently.

  Damien returned to the hotel, trying to piece everything together in his mind. Somehow, everything felt more confusing than before.

  —Hey, D. Long time no see, man. We went through hell today.

  It was Mason. He and the rest of the group were waiting at the hotel entrance.

  —I’m glad you made it back safely. —Damien looked around. —Where are the girls and the masters?

  —Master Yu-Han went to pick up the girls. The other two masters returned to Bukrasma before sending their groups here, —Yulian replied.

  —Let’s get some sleep. I’m dead after all that vaccine nonsense, —Albert said, swaying from exhaustion.

  —By the way, how have you handled the language here? —Mason asked. —In Ponaj we were “lucky” the thing we faced spoke our language.

  Damien shrugged.

  —Edward hasn’t spoken to any locals. Yulian’s bilingual. I get by… I’ve always wanted to visit this country.

  The next day.

  —Guys, the master called me, —Yulian informed them. —Sarah and Layla are on their way. He’ll be gone longer. I told him about the scrolls, and he said the priority is eradicating whoever is kidnapping the children.

  —Good. —Damien adjusted his shirt and stretched. —Then I have clearance to test my method.

  —We should split up, —Edward suggested. —You’re the ones who best understand the language. Damien, Carlo, and Mason will be one team. The three of us will be the other.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  —Sounds good, —Yulian nodded. —Let’s move.

  Yulian’s group explored the back of the reformatory and the surrounding area. Damien’s team covered the front. It was an enormous area for the little crime Primo claimed existed.

  —Hey! There are some over there! Let’s go! —Yulian shouted.

  They chased them and placed the talismans again—but they didn’t work.

  —Then maybe this will. —Albert growled, throwing a punch reinforced with Nature Koa.

  The blow passed straight through the entity. It staggered back two steps and vanished, leaving only a freezing breeze and a fading sigh.

  —What the hell…? —Albert’s eyes widened.

  —It doesn’t work, —Yulian said. —Ghosts can only be hit once they take physical form. Maybe there’s a way to force it… Let’s regroup with the others.

  Damien’s team also spotted three entities. This time, they fled. One disappeared into an alley.

  —I’ll take the one in the alley, —Damien said.

  Carlo and Mason got the same result as Yulian’s group. Damien caught up with the last one at the end of the alley. The air grew colder, heavier—anguished, as if the walls themselves wanted to scream.

  The entity was waiting for him.

  —Girl, boy… whatever you are, —Damien said, pointing at the talisman. —I know this doesn’t work on you. So let’s change the symbol.

  He drew a smiley face on the talisman, identical to the one on the mask.

  —Now please… rest in peace.

  The entity grabbed his arm. It was only an instant, but Damien shuddered. His gaze went blank. Tears welled up as he fell to his knees. The ghost stepped back twice and vanished before Mason’s eyes.

  —Hey? What’s wrong? —Mason held him. —Damien, talk to me! He slapped his face to snap him out of it.

  —It’s nothing… —Damien said, his voice trembling. —Let’s go. No luck today either.

  Mason watched him walk away, knowing he was hiding something.

  That night, while everyone slept, Damien left the hotel. Mason was waiting.

  —I have to do something. Please step aside.

  —Not until you tell me what happened, —Mason replied, standing his ground.

  Damien told him everything.

  —I’m not letting you go alone, —Mason said, eyes glassy.

  —I have to confirm it. And I have to do it alone, —Damien replied. —If you don’t hear from me in twenty or thirty minutes, call the master and leave the town.

  —What’s going on? I know something’s wrong since the alley, —Carlo intervened.

  —Let Mason tell you.

  Damien turned away and disappeared into the rain, which hid his tears.

  He stopped in front of the massive warehouse.

  —This is it.

  He materialized a Nature Koa gauntlet.

  —Fist of Fury.

  Dragon Koa fire enveloped the blow and tore through the door.

  Inside, dozens of children were locked in cages—bound, gagged, beaten. Their terrified eyes fixed on Damien.

  —So… it was true.

  He fell to his knees. In rage, he tore into his own skin. Then he freed each one.

  —Go home.

  The Hammiz tribe emerged from their teepees, drawn by the screams.

  —Boy, you did it, —Inola said. —You found the children.

  —Don’t pretend. —Damien looked at him with contempt. —Arondight.

  His blood and Koa mixed as the sword materialized.

  —Just this once, knight and dragon… cooperate.

  The blade ignited.

  —What are you doing?! —Inola stepped back. The rest of the tribe stood their ground, armed.

  Damien screamed—and the massacre began.

  Rain and blood mixed with his tears. His Sacred Koa aligned with his mind, granting him mastery of the blade. His Beast Koa aligned with his heart, making his cuts non-lethal—seeking to prolong the pain of his victims.

  That night would be remembered as The Night of a Thousand Laments.

  When the group arrived, Damien was sitting in the middle of the warehouse.

  —Yes. I did it. —he whispered.

  Edward lunged forward in fury, but Yulian stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a look. Everyone except Carlo left the warehouse.

  Carlo approached.

  —My friend… are you okay?

  —The mission was to eliminate those who harmed the children, —Damien said through tears. —That’s what I did. Please… leave me alone.

  —Thank you. You saved many of us from ending up like we did, —the voices whispered. —We’re sorry for the weight we placed on your shoulders. We just wanted someone to know the truth.

  —Rest in peace, Clara, —Damien replied.

  Not because of what happens, but because of what it means for Damien.

  Sometimes, doing the right thing doesn’t feel like a victory.

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