Chapter 2

When there is food, eat; when there is a chance to sleep, sleep. This is the basic principle of living beings and a universal truth for infantrymen who make battlefields their daily life. Therefore, the imperial soldiers who had just traversed the Flame Emperor Dragon Corridor and finished a fierce battle filled their stomachs with as much food as they could and slept like mud.

The only ones wandering through the camp, where the cacophony of snores and snorts echoed, were the unfortunate sentries, small animals, and thieves. A single shadow moved across the scattered darkness, muffling its sound and crawling like a creature on the ground, much like a nocturnal rodent searching for prey.

The man, who belonged to the imperial army's punishment squad, took pride in his thievery. He was not a clumsy brawler who took advantage of the chaos of fights or battles to commit bloody robberies. The true value of stealing lay in taking items without anyone noticing. He was vaguely aware that his purpose and methods had become completely reversed. It was not for earning a living that he stole; he found joy in the act of stealing itself. If he had maintained the modesty of earning a living, he would not have been assigned to the punishment squad.

He had already set his eyes on his prey. He narrowed his breathing to the limit and slowly approached a single soldier. Repeating the cycle of stillness and movement, he listened intently, much like a rat, and indeed, he was nicknamed "Rat" for his behavior. The steady breathing and faint heartbeat guided him as he probed the soldier's belongings. Well-maintained equipment, neatly organized gear—nothing like the roughnecks around here. Yet, he was not just a diligent soldier.

One's possessions speak volumes about their character. Worn-out soles, weapons with countless scars, and indelible bloodstains—this was undoubtedly a seasoned veteran who had survived on the front lines of battle. A tired old rat would be easily cut down if discovered. The thought of death made his breathing quicken, but he suppressed it.

Fear was present, but it was not a reason to hesitate. Rather, he felt a sense of exhilaration. This was the ultimate prey. Blood coursed through his body, and his brain tingled with a sweet sensation.

Rat did not target weapons. A soldier is a soldier only with his weapon. He was not a fool who sought to harass those he disliked or to replace lost weapons. His targets were food that would naturally disappear once consumed or easily concealable valuables. If the bag was tied to the belt, he would cut the string with scissors; if it was held, he would make a hole with a dagger. His eyes darted quickly as he examined the contents.

First, he needed to lift the soldier's coat. He reached out to the soldier's waist. Suddenly, his gaze was fixed on an object carelessly placed on the ground. It was a mask, a type of protective gear for the face.

It was a mask of a demon, not a taste for everyone. It was not his target, yet he could not look away. The mask, without a single stain, had a mysterious luster and even exuded a seductive aura, like the smooth skin of a woman.

Why was such a masterpiece carelessly lying around? The sense of unease and questions lingered, but his curiosity as a thief could not be resisted. On all fours, he bent down and stared at the bottom of the mask. There were no rattles or hidden ropes. Swallowing his saliva, Rat gently lifted the mask. Its beauty was mesmerizing, and the smooth surface felt pleasant.

"――, u"

As Rat was entranced, he felt a burning pain in his palm. The fact that he did not drop the mask or cry out was a testament to his pride as a top-notch thief.

It felt as if he had been bitten by a heated fang, and a hole opened in his palm. The blood that flowed down the mask stopped there, as if being absorbed into a dry desert. Despite the chills running down his spine, Rat did not throw the mask away. It turned out to be a fortunate decision.

"You're lucky. It's a light bite."

Rat's eyes widened as he looked up. The soldier, who was supposed to be asleep, was speaking to him. Speechless, he alternated his gaze between the mask and the soldier. The veteran did not have a menacing or ugly face, just an ordinary, slightly handsome one. However, his eyes were anything but ordinary. Though dark and murky, his pupils glowed with a golden hue.

"What's wrong? Do you like it? If you want it, I'll give it to you."

The soldier smiled mockingly. The mask in his hand shook violently. People and their possessions are always in balance. The owner of an extraordinary item could not be just anyone. Rat struggled to speak.

"H-Hell no, this beautiful mask is too much for me."

He spat out the best flattery he could think of and returned the mask. The soldier said nothing, just watching silently. Would the price be only his hand? If it was not enough, would he have to offer his arm or his life? Like handling an infant, Rat slowly extended his arm. Fortunately, the mask, which had drunk his living blood, obediently returned to the soldier's side.

"Sir, see? Please, have mercy. Please, have mercy."

Rat pressed his head to the ground, but there was no response. After an unknown amount of time, he cautiously lifted his head. The soldier said nothing, just looking disappointed.

"Do you really not want it? Don't be shy."

"Please, it's not suitable for me. It suits you, sir."

As soon as he said this, Rat scurried away. The imperial knight muttered to himself as he watched the fleeing thief.

"What a coward. You bite like a rat, yet you can't take a little bite to your hand."

He had hoped the living mask would be troublesome to get rid of, but it was not the case. The fickle mask seemed satisfied with a taste. Worm, who had been crouching, stretched his limbs and fell back asleep, lamenting that he had not managed to press his head to the ground.