Chapter 14

Chapter 14
Julian's POV

The clamor of the ritual still lingered in my ears, the sound of that whip falling especially vivid.

I sat in the carriage, the light dim, watching Free Haven slowly recover from the riot outside the window. People still knelt crying on the street. Ella had fallen asleep against my shoulder—not deeply, her brow slightly furrowed, as if even sleep couldn't grant her true peace.

I didn't wake her.

I just looked at her face, then thought of that girl—Celeste, standing on the high platform, her white robe soaked through with blood, her eyes hollow as a mirror with no reflection.

She wasn't a god.

Anyone standing outside this system of faith could see it in those eyes.

She was just someone who'd been locked away too long, who'd forgotten how to cry.

Ella, during certain days at Blood River, had probably looked just like that.

The sound of the carriage stopping pulled me back.

"We've arrived, Your Highness," the driver said from outside.

I gently shifted Ella's weight from my shoulder, lifted her, and handed her to the maid waiting at the door, instructing in a low voice to take her to rest.

Ella stirred slightly but didn't wake, her lashes trembling faintly before settling again.

I stood at the gate of the seaside villa, breathing in the sea breeze to clear my head.

Then I looked up and noticed something wrong.

The side gate to the courtyard stood open. It shouldn't have been open. I'd specifically checked before we left—all doors and windows were secured. Now not only the side gate—even the easternmost window on the second floor was wide open, sheer curtains billowing in the night wind.

I didn't go in immediately. I scanned the courtyard ground first.

The stone path bore signs of a struggle—two deep scratches, directions chaotic, as if someone had left them during rapid directional changes.

The flower bed's edge showed trampled soil, a shrub's branch broken and hanging, not yet fallen.

Someone had been here.

"Brian?" I called out tentatively. "Gregory? Zachary?"

No response.

I went up to the second floor alone.

No footprints on the hallway carpet, but the study door was ajar, a thin crack visible at the hinges. I pushed it open.

The room had been searched, but with considerable restraint—not violent ransacking, more like a targeted hunt. Papers on the desk hadn't scattered, the chair remained in place, but the storage cabinet by the window had clearly been disturbed, the door not quite closed, several drawers inside slightly misaligned.

I walked straight to the velvet box.

It sat in its original position, but the lid was open.

Empty!

The Orta Crown was gone.

I stared at that empty box, something in my chest clenching sharply, then releasing—not fear, but something colder.

That crown held the potential convergence of five primal elements. In the hands of anyone with ill intent, it would be an absolute catastrophe.

I surveyed the entire room again, confirming I'd missed no details, then returned to the hallway.

At the stairwell, Brian, Gregory, and Zachary pushed through the door, sweat on their clothes, a fresh scratch on Gregory's right forearm.

"Your Highness." Brian spoke, his tone steady, but I could hear him controlling some emotion. "We caught up with the thief, but we lost him..."

"Explain clearly!"

Brian's account was concise: "A young male, extremely fast. We chased him across rooftops, were about to use sealing magic to surround him—" He paused. "Just as we were closing the net, a green earring on his ear suddenly burst with bright light, his speed surging dramatically. He broke through the seal, then—"

"Then what?"

"Like he rode the wind," Zachary continued, his voice carrying obvious confusion. "The next second he vanished. We chased him to the base of the Wind Lighthouse's outer wall and found he'd already climbed up."

"Like he rode the wind."

I repeated the phrase in my mouth.

Green earring, burst of bright light, speed suddenly doubled, then disappeared toward the restricted area.

Everyone in Free Haven knew the Wind Lighthouse was forbidden territory—for that person to choose to climb in, either he was desperate or he wasn't a believer.

But that speed...

Wind element, Sage's voice echoed in my mind, calm and certain. That earring likely contains wind elemental power.

I said nothing, just went through all the clues again in my head.

Orta Crown missing. Thief possibly possessing wind element. Escaped into the Wind Lighthouse restricted zone.

This wasn't an ordinary theft.

Or rather—even if it started as ordinary theft, it wasn't anymore.

"Now, immediately," I turned to the three of them, "we're going to the Wind Lighthouse."

Gregory frowned. "Your Highness, that's Free Haven's restricted area. Barging in might create diplomatic risks..."

"I didn't say barge in," I said. "I'm going to knock."

The Orta Crown's power could destroy heaven and earth—that wasn't hyperbole. If all five elements were activated simultaneously, the power that crown carried would even surpass any existing wolf pack.

Whoever that thief was, whether or not he knew what he'd taken, we had to get it back before this situation spiraled out of control.

The four of us left the villa, passing through Free Haven's streets still rippling with aftershocks of unrest. The night wind carried salt, dock workers still hauling storm-damaged cargo from last night, torchlight drawing blurred orange reflections on the distant sea.

After about fifteen minutes' walk, Brian stopped, raising his hand to point ahead and left:

"Here. This is where he climbed over the outer wall."

I looked up at the lighthouse.

Tall, very tall, its white tower body almost self-luminous in the night, warm yellow light glowing from the top floor. The entire tower pressed into the clifftop like a giant needle someone had driven forcefully into the rock.

I walked to the main gate outside the wall and reached out to ring the bell hanging from an iron post.

The bell's clear sound bounced several times between stone walls and sea breeze.

Moments later, footsteps approached from inside.

Quillan opened the door.

He still wore his ceremonial finery from the ritual, just changed the outer robe, his hair combed meticulously. The moment he saw me, his face bloomed with that well-trained warm smile, then quickly shifted to a more deferential expression—a reaction so fast it seemed like instinct honed through countless rehearsals.

"Crown Prince!" He bowed, his voice carrying perfectly pitched surprise and astonishment. "So late—how is it that you—"

"Today someone broke into my Free Haven residence," I interrupted, my tone mild. "Took some things. My people tracked the person disappearing in the lighthouse's direction, climbing over this section of outer wall."

Quillan's expression froze for an instant, then transitioned to exaggerated righteous indignation—brow furrowed, mouth corners down, eyes wide, like a supporting character on stage performing shock.

"What?!" He raised his voice. "Someone so audacious dared reach into the Silver Moon Pack Alpha's residence?! This—this is absolutely reckless!" He patted his chest, his tone urgent. "Your Highness, rest assured, Free Haven absolutely will not tolerate such petty criminals running wild—"

"So," I waited for him to finish before continuing unhurriedly, "I'd like to go in and look around. If that person is still hiding within the lighthouse grounds, we'll capture him on the spot and deal with him accordingly."

Quillan paused very briefly—so short that if I hadn't been watching him closely, I would have missed it—then immediately nodded, stepping aside with a welcoming gesture, his smile still gracious:

"Your Highness graces us with your presence. Please—come in."