After the angry crowd dispersed, the night at Ashen Refuge felt much colder and more oppressive than before. The remnants of the conflict, ignited from looted furnishings, slowly extinguished, leaving wisps of smoke that hovered low over the mud. Yet, in the chests of the guards, anger and suspicion continued to smolder like a fire that would not die. Inside the cramped and stuffy guard barracks, Lyron, Deka, and two other guards huddled in the dim light of a magitek lantern. Their faces were tense as they discussed the events of the night in cautious tones, their voices deliberately lowered.

  Deka, a man with a cynical glare and restless eyes, ground his teeth together. His voice was strained, filled with bottled rage. “Listen, Lyron! Did you hear what he said? The Warden forbids us to act. He wants us to stand like statues while they hurl stones at us? Does he expect us to die at the hands of those refugees?” Deka's expression conveyed his dissatisfaction, his hands clenched on the table.

  Lyron stared at the closed barrack door, ensuring no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. His voice was low, yet laced with bitterness. “Do you think I am unafraid? Of course I am scared. But if we attacked them earlier, this camp would be ablaze in an instant. He... he knows what he is doing. The Warden managed to calm them without a drop of blood being shed.” A flicker of doubt crossed his face, like a sudden cold wind sweeping through the cramped space.

  The third guard, Marros, was a hulking figure with hands as hard as stone. He leaned forward over the sturdy wooden table before him and struck it hard. “I care not how complex your strategy is! There is but one language understood by this desperate, starving crowd, and that is violence! If they catch a whiff of our hesitation to use force, come morning, our heads will dangle from this very fence!” His voice reverberated in the room, piercing the ears of all present.

  Lyron fought back the anger burning in his chest, glaring sharply at Marros. “You speak as if it's all so simple. Do you truly believe Erezia spent his night alone, watching over this gate? He has more courage than all of us combined who gather here.” The passion in his words surged forth with undeniable conviction.

  Deka laughed harshly, his voice sounding like metal clashing. “Bravery, or perhaps he has gone mad. Once, he was a great general; now, he is merely a guard for the refugees defying Gamma's power. I've heard rumors from a few in the black market that there’s a bounty of gold coins from Gamma's spies to usurp him from this position.” Skepticism shadowed every word he spoke.

  Marros regarded Deka with a suspicious gaze, his small eyes narrowing. “You speak as though you are indeed tempted by that offer.”

  Deka shrugged indifferently, trying to appear nonchalant despite the discomfort radiating from his eyes. “If tomorrow we are besieged from without by monsters and from within by the refugees, who will still care about loyalty? All I desire is to survive. That is all. We have strayed too far from mercy.”

  Outside the barracks, Erezia sat alone against the cold fence, her spear weakly propped against her weary shoulder. She could see the shadows of guards moving through the barrack windows, and could well imagine the discussion that might be unfolding within. Erezia murmured quietly to herself, her voice weary and filled with profound sorrow, “They must all think I have lost my wits... Perhaps there is some truth in that.”

  Suddenly, the sound of quiet footsteps approached. Lyron emerged from within the barrack, carrying two steaming cups of hot water. He sat next to Erezia without uttering a word at first. As silence enveloped them, Lyron finally spoke, softly and cautiously, “Warden… there was a small meeting inside the barrack just now. Some of the guards are feeling weary and wish to withdraw from this duty. Others… they were discussing an offer from Gamma.”

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  Erezia stared straight ahead, into the darkness that cloaked the camp. Though her eyes appeared weary, there was a firmness about her as she spoke. “And which side are you on, Lyron?” she asked, her voice gentle yet laced with tension.

  Lyron gazed at the cup in his hand, his thoughts drifting for a long moment before he finally spoke. “I… I am loyal to Ashen Refuge. As long as you remain here, I will protect you. But if you fall, I do not know what will happen.”

  Erezia nodded slowly, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. “Do not blame them. Everyone has a different limit to their patience. I too have… nearly crossed that line.”

  Lyron took a deep breath, the cold air wrapping around his breath, rendering it visible like a wisp of fog on a bleak night. “Can you sleep peacefully tonight, Warden?” he asked, the tone of his voice filled with deep concern.

  Erezia merely smiled wryly, her eyes seemingly tracing dark memories. “Since the day I first took a life, a peaceful sleep feels like a distant dream to me.”

  Suddenly, quick, panicked footsteps shattered the silence. Mara, the young woman who had incited the earlier commotion, rushed hurriedly toward the gate. Her breaths came in gasps, her face pale with anxiety. “Warden… please… my son, Rinel, he’s burning with fever, his body is on the verge of convulsions. Not a single healer within this camp will help us. They say the guards are purposefully denying us medicine…”

  Erezia instantly rose to her feet, her gaze sweeping over Lyron for a brief moment with an undeniable urgency. “Take me to your place. Lyron, fetch the remaining fever-reducing potion from the barracks. We shall see this through together.”

  Without hesitation, Lyron rose, swiftly grabbing a few bottles of potion and a clean cloth from within the barracks, compelled by the urgency of the situation that could not be delayed.

  Inside Mara’s cramped and stuffy tent, tension hung in the air like smoke. Several other refugees present there regarded Erezia with gazes full of doubt. However, as they witnessed Erezia patiently examining Rinel’s condition, a flicker of empathy began to thaw within their hardened hearts. In a trembling voice, Mara, half-sobbing, whispered to Erezia.

  Mara: “I… I deeply apologize for what transpired last night. I was simply… I was simply afraid of losing everything.”

  Erezia gazed at Mara, her eyes soft though weary. A faint smile appeared on her numbed lips. “There is no need to feel guilty. I myself have long been haunted by fear. I fear becoming like the very people I loathe most.”

  Lyron tenderly washed Rinel’s head with a damp cloth, his voice gentle and soothing. “She will be alright. However, we must seek more clean water. I shall go speak with those in the kitchen. Do not trouble yourself about the other guards.”

  Outside the tent, the bustling noise gradually began to fade with the passage of time. Erezia and Lyron made their way back toward the gate, passing Marros and Deka, who stood still, rigid before their barrack. Marros fixed Erezia with a hard stare, his face taut with tension.

  Marros: “Warden… Do you still believe these refugees can be managed without violence?”

  Erezia met Marros’s gaze with unwavering intensity, her voice firm and devoid of any doubt. “You may choose to believe or not; that is entirely your prerogative. Yet as long as I stand here, no child shall pay the price of life within this refugee tent. I would prefer to die at their hands than take the life of any soul without clear cause on this night.”

  Deka spat onto the ground with a look of disgust, his voice soft yet piercing. “I long to see you prove your words, Warden.”

  Erezia glared at Deka, her eyes shimmering with determination. “Then open your eyes wide, Deka. Every night, I am the one who stands at this gate—not you.”

  Dusk crept once more into Ashen Refuge, but now a new hue of acknowledgment and respect filled the air—yet at the same time, seeds of betrayal lay in wait, biding their time to flourish. Amidst the fear and hope that compromised with one another, the order within the camp endured thanks to one who chose to stand alone, even as they stood on the brink of betrayal from within.