Chapter 105: A Weapon for Profit

Anasha’s laughter cut off abruptly. A strange flicker in the corner of her vision made her heart jolt.

She followed that line of sight—and in an instant, her blood seemed to freeze.

At some point, the streets had quietly filled with soldiers clad in Imperial uniforms. They surrounded the area in dense formation, sealing it off completely. Every single pair of eyes was filled with cold hostility, all locked firmly onto their Regulation Squad unit.

A chill ran through her chest. Anasha’s grip on her sword tightened sharply.

So that earlier “casual chat” about border defenses… those deliberately hearty laughs—every bit of it had been nothing more than a stalling tactic. From the very beginning, Fakenna had harbored ill intent.

“Hahahahaha!” Fakenna finally tore off his mask, throwing his head back in mocking laughter. His gaze swept over Anasha’s ashen face, filled with disdain.

“The dignified vice-captain of the Regulation Squad, yet your vigilance against strangers isn’t even as good as the little girl you were escorting. What a disappointment.”

Standing beside Anasha, Peretti still had the iron shackles on her wrists. At his words, she merely raised her eyes slightly. There wasn’t a trace of panic in her tone—if anything, it carried a casual hint of teasing.

“Maybe she got so mad at me just now that her brain stopped working for a bit.”

She said it lightly, almost offhandedly, but the corner of her eye had already taken in the positions of every surrounding soldier. Her mind raced, calculating the odds of escape.

Anasha ignored Peretti’s banter. Her hand was already resting on the hilt of her sword, and the Regulation Squad members behind her instantly entered a defensive stance, scanning the encroaching soldiers with sharp vigilance.

“Fakenna, what exactly are you trying to do?” Her voice was cold as ice, each word laced with suppressed fury.

Fakenna spread his hands nonchalantly, his tone flippant.

“Nothing much. I’ve long heard of the Regulation Squad’s reputation. Since we’ve finally crossed paths today, my hands are itching. I just want to spar a bit—see whether these so-called Imperial elites actually have any real skill.”

“Spar?” Anasha laughed in fury. She suddenly drew her sword, its blade humming as it pointed straight at Fakenna, sharp as frost. “Impersonating Imperial soldiers and deliberately surrounding a Regulation Squad unit—by Imperial law, that warrants execution!”

The noblewoman’s gaze was razor-sharp, fixed on him as if she wanted to pierce straight through his deceitful façade.

“Impersonating?” Fakenna raised an eyebrow as though he’d heard the greatest joke in the world. “Vice-captain, now that’s a funny thing to say. I am the commander of the Imperial Knight Order. The identification I showed you earlier—are you saying it was fake?”

“Forging identification only adds to your crimes.” Anasha didn’t yield an inch. The tip of her sword angled forward slightly, faint elemental energy already rippling around her.

At that, Fakenna lifted a hand to his forehead, revealing a helpless yet mocking smile.

“Adds to my crimes…” he dragged out the words, his eyes suddenly turning cold.

“Aren’t all these ‘crimes’ in your Empire decided by you lofty Regulators and nobles with just a few words? These so-called laws are nothing more than weapons you use to secure your own interests and suppress dissent.”

At the height of the tension, Peretti suddenly spoke. Her clear voice felt oddly out of place.

“If you do this… will people die?”

Her tone was too calm—almost childishly direct. It made Anasha pause mid-anger and even caused Fakenna to stop speaking.

Looking at Peretti’s slightly pale but earnest face, a hint of amusement rose in Fakenna’s heart.

This girl was far more interesting than the squad leader beside her.

“Of course,” Fakenna said, his smile growing more mocking, his eyes filled with cruelty. “If no one dies, can it still be called war? But don’t worry—right now, there’s no one else left on this street but us. Want to play a guessing game? Guess where all the ordinary people who were here earlier have gone?”

Clang—!

A crisp metallic clash suddenly split the air, echoing across the empty street.

Anasha could no longer suppress her fury. The veins in her hand bulged as she gripped her sword tightly. She glared at Fakenna, her anger nearly erupting.

“You kill people and still act so arrogantly? Let me see what you’re capable of!”

At last, her pent-up rage found an outlet. Flames burst to life along her blade, roaring as waves of heat spread outward. Carrying all her fury, she brought the sword down at Fakenna in a fierce strike.

Fire—

The moment the flames ignited, Peretti felt as though she had been struck by lightning. Her mind went completely blank.

Fragments of memories flashed before her eyes like a carousel—
a burning wooden house, choking smoke, her mother’s outstretched hand that ultimately fell limp… and that all-consuming crimson blaze.

Red spread endlessly in her vision until it swallowed everything.

In her ears rang the chaotic sounds of battle, mixed with a deafening roar etched deep into her soul—the howl of flames devouring everything… and the desperate cries of her younger self.

Her body reacted faster than her mind.

She instinctively stepped back. The elements within her surged out of control, carrying her like a streak of light as she shot out of the soldiers’ encirclement in an instant.

Only when her back slammed hard against a cold wall did Peretti snap back to her senses. She braced herself against it, gasping for breath as cold sweat slid down her temples, dampening the strands of hair on her forehead.

She should have realized it long ago.

If the Regulation Squad had those who controlled ice and lightning, then naturally, there would also be those who wielded fire.

All these days, she had rehearsed countless times in her mind how she would face flames. She had told herself again and again that she had grown stronger—that she could protect herself now, that those fears should have long since faded.

But when real flames appeared before her once more, she realized in despair—

The fear had never faded at all.

It was the anger of watching her mother perish in flames when she was young, powerless to do anything.
The regret of failing to grasp even the last trace of her mother’s warmth.
The crushing guilt of her own weakness and helplessness.

These emotions clung to her like parasites, long since carved deep into her very bones.