He dragged them into the outer courtyard.
A horizontal beam loomed over the space like a gallows.
From it hung two long ropes, and at their ends swung wooden poles, each holding a basin filled with water, suspended in perfect balance.
Not a single drop trembled.
They looked like blades, ready to execute the first mistake.
Sharlok spoke with the same calm tone one might use to announce the midday temperature.
“The rule is simple.
You will remain upside down for the entire day, maintaining the balance of the basins.
If even a single drop touches the ground… the punishment will be repeated tomorrow.”
Sky went pale.
“Wait— the entire day?!”
Sharlok barely looked at him, as if the question were nothing more than background noise.
“You heard correctly.”
With a slight nod, he gave the order.
The ropes tightened.
Bodies rotated in midair.
And the Captain walked away without looking back, with the natural ease of someone who considered all of this a daily routine, unworthy of even a second of his time.
The midday sun burned their skin.
Sky was drenched in sweat, his arm muscles on fire.
He was shaking.
“Damn it!
Damn it!” he burst out, his voice cracked by strain.
“What are you whining about, clown?!” Shark snarled.
His face was as red as his hair.
Sky turned his head slightly, swaying dangerously.
“Clown?!
We’ve been hanging here for hours with these boulders in our hands!”
Shark glared at him from the height of his wounded pride.
“A guy who walks around wearing sunglasses even at night… what would you call him?”
Sky clenched his jaw.
“Listen, carrot top… this is your fault we ended up here!”
“Go to hell!” Shark growled.
“Who asked you to jump into the brawl first?!”
Sky smiled.
Cocky.
Unforgivable.
“You didn’t exactly look like you had the numbers on your side.”
“I could’ve taken that cook and his goons on my own!”
The truth was simple: between the two of them, they had sent five regular soldiers and two cooks to the infirmary.
And even if they would never admit it, they had earned the silent respect of more than a few recruits who had witnessed the fight.
Another day passed.
The moon was high when Sky and Shark were still hanging there, exhausted, motionless—like dying bats.
At some point, their bodies gave in before their will did, and they fell asleep, still dangling.
At dawn, with the first rooster’s crow, Sky opened his eyes.
Standing before him was Captain Sharlok.
Arms crossed.
The gaze of a man who felt nothing.
Sky swallowed.
“…Uh.
Good morning?”
Sharlok tilted his head slightly.
“You spilled all the water.”
Sky lowered his gaze.
The ground beneath them was completely soaked.
He didn’t even remember letting go.
Beside him, Shark was asleep.
Snoring.
Perfectly peaceful.
“Wait, Captain!
I can explain—”
Sharlok raised a hand.
His fingers cracked.
A dry sound, like thunder.
The ropes snapped.
Sky fell and hit the ground face-first.
Shark landed on the back of his head.
The latter woke up with an inhuman scream.
Still dazed, Sky lifted his head and saw Sharlok walking away without sparing them a glance.
His icy voice cut through the air.
“Punishment.
Repeated.”
Next Episode — The Path of the Empire