《Shackled Exalted》 Chapter 1 - Expelled from paradise (1) Emil The slums of Lower Dannan had a superstition¡ªbad things happen when it rains. Then perhaps it was no surprise, when the skies turned ominous and the downpour arrived, Emil immediately found himself ambushed by two murderous assailants. ¡°Ngh!¡± The side of his jaws rattled as he took a direct blow from his blind spot. Emil clenched his teeth, his mouth bitter with the ferric tang of blood. He immediately tried to retaliate with an attack of his own¡ªonly to be rebuked by the second assailant. Squelch! His careless attempt earned him a thwack to the face. Emil grimaced, staggering backwards, holding onto his nose. Blood poured from the orifice, bathing in his fingers in viscid red before being washed away. Rain thundered in his ears, pattering with the frenzy of a stampede. The frigid waters chilled his throbbing chin. The grounds of the slums quickly became mired in mud as he slogged back, trying to create some separation from his foes. His assailants stalked closer. Murderous glee smeared across their scar infested faces. Ruffians. Likely belonging to one of the gangs from the neighboring turfs. They were tall and built, at least a few years older than he was. Teenagers. Emil was both outnumbered and overwhelmed. Should I run? As he looked for a path to escape, his eyes caught a shadow lingering behind his foes. Past the mist, he spotted a small girl hiding by the edge of a dilapidated building¡ªher head on a swivel as if desperately searching for something. Mia?! What is she still doing here?! The ruffians gave him no time to think. Emil tossed his head back just as another punch barely missed his eyes. His movements were sluggish, dulled by the freezing rain. His head pounded in agony, dazed by the earlier attacks. But running away was no longer an option. Mia''s appearance changed things¡ªhe had to fight his way out. Emil dug his foot into the muddy earth as both assailants rushed him. As they got close, he kicked, slinging mud in their direction. One of the ruffians floundered¡ªmomentarily blinded as the mud landed in his eyes. The other continued his assault, not realizing he was separated from his companion. Seizing the opportunity, Emil lunged. He ducked beneath the ruffian¡¯s swing and countered with an uppercut. His fist smashed against the ruffian''s jaws. Relentless, he immediately delivered another punch to the head. Thud! The first ruffian¡¯s eyes rolled back, visibly concussed as he collapsed into a puddle of mud. The side of his mouth foamed as he laid still under the downpour. With one of them downed, Emil charged at the remaining assailant, who had just regained his vision. Startled by the sudden assault, the second ruffian swung in a panic. His desperate attacks fell short as Emil screeched to a halt. With his opponent off-balance, Emil lifted his foot and stomped on their knees. A gruesome crack pierced the air. His victim crumpled to the ground¡ªwailing, holding his broken leg. Emil crouched down, his eyes blazed with madness as his hands cramped down on the ruffian¡¯s collars. ¡°Tell me!¡± he spat, ¡°What the hell are you doing on my turf?¡± ¡°I-It was an accident, I swear!¡± ¡°Really?¡± Emil hissed, ¡°So the two of you wandered in here, laid your hands on my friend, and decided to pick a fight by accident?!¡± ¡°I, umm¡ª¡± This was a waste of time. Emil slammed the ruffian into the muddy waters. Merciless, he held down the ruffian¡¯s bleeding face as he pressed his knee against their throat. The ruffian squirmed under his grasp. ¡°Your affiliation,¡± Emil demanded. ¡°W-What?¡± ¡°Who are you with?!¡± he screamed into their ears. ¡°T-The Red Fangs!¡± Emil clicked his tongue. The name nearly made him flinch. ¡°Get the fuck out of my face. I don¡¯t want to see the two of you here ever again,¡± he snapped as he drove his foot into the ruffian¡¯s stomach. *** The two Red Fangs members slowly limped down the alleyway. Emil eyed them like a hawk¡ªhis fists clenched, ready to pounce if they dared to take a detour. Gradually, their silhouettes faded into the rainy mist. ...The Red Fangs again? Emil grimaced. His assailants belonged to a violent gang with a formidable presence in the Lower Dannan slums, infamous for their aggressive attempts to expand their turf. This was a bad omen. ¡°Mia, you can come out now,¡± he said as he spun back towards the beaten path, peering at the dilapidated buildings. Silence. The incessant rain continued to drizzle in his ears. ¡°Mia, I know you¡¯re there. Stop wasting my time.¡± Eventually, a small girl poked her head out of the rubble. Sheepishly, she stepped out into the open, averting her eyes beneath the long strands of wet hair. ¡°I told you to run, did I not?¡± Emil snapped. ¡°Y-Yes,¡± Mia stuttered, ¡°Yes. Y-You did.¡± ¡°Then what the fuck are you still doing here?¡± ¡°I¡­I thought you needed help!¡± she blurted out. The corners of her mouth were twitching. Her answer almost made him lose it. He immediately bit on his lips, focusing on the stabbing pain to quell his anger. Once he felt like he was in control of himself again, Emil let out an exasperated sigh. Shaking his head, he beckoned Mia over. ¡°Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?¡± he asked as the glare in his eyes softened. ¡°No. Not really,¡± she replied. Unconvinced, Emil lifted her arms up. Instantly, Mia winced. The underside of her right arm leered with a nasty gash. The glaring wound still bled, the edges stained in blood and dirt. Heat engulfed his chest. Emil saw red. He was about to turn around when¡ª ¡°I just fell! They tried to drag me by the arm and I fell!¡± Mia immediately explained. He raised an eye. ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± she pleaded, on the verge of screaming, ¡°Nothing else happened!¡± ¡°¡­Fine.¡± Reluctantly, he dropped the issue, shelving the matter to the back of his mind. He¡¯ll address it later. For now, Mia¡¯s injuries need to be tended to. There was nothing more that he could have done anyways with the Red Fang members gone. ¡°Grab the stuff we¡¯ve scavenged. We¡¯re heading back to the compound,¡± he said as he went to pick up the bundle of miscellaneous junk that they had collected for the day. ¡°And please,¡± Emil pointed at Mia¡¯s arm, ¡°keep that a secret from Raz.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Heavy rain continued to pour as the two of them walked in silence through the somber corridors of the Lower Dannan slums. Emil kept Mia close as his eyes darted the vicinity, alert¡ªnot wanting to be ambushed. Lately, the slums were growing increasingly unsafe. Finally, they arrived at the entrance of the compound. Tall, metal fences towered before him. A narrow corridor led to the entrance, composed of a large gate constructed from a mishmash of iron and wood. The gate was flanked by two sentry towers crudely repurposed from abandoned scaffolding. Barbed wires lined the top of the fences, intent to deter ambitious intruders from climbing over. All of these contraptions were Emil¡¯s handiwork, built over the past two years from when he first discovered this abandoned site. Emil slogged down the corridor and grabbed a bell dangling by the side of the gate. He gave it a violent shake. A shrill sound rang over the incessant rain. ¡°Identify yourselves!¡± A scrawny boy suddenly yelled from the top of the sentry tower. ¡°Dale! It¡¯s us!¡± Emil screamed back. ¡°Who the hell is us?! Identify yourselves and state your purpose!¡± Emil suddenly overheard the click of metal drawstrings. Is this bastard is aiming at me?! ¡°It¡¯s Emil, you idiot! I got Mia with me! Open the damn gate!¡± Over the dense rain, he could see Dale¡¯s face twist in horror. The boy immediately disappeared below the sentry tower. A few seconds later, the gate to the compound creaked open. Emil beckoned for Mia to enter first. Once he stepped inside the compound, his shoulders instinctively relaxed. Tension seeped out of his wary body. For a brief moment, the encounter with the Red Fangs was a mere afterthought. Finally, they were home. ***

Mia Mia spun to a flurry of footsteps splashing in the rain. ¡°Emil! Mia!¡± It was Dale. The scrawny boy was a bundle of nerves. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry! I really couldn¡¯t tell it was you guys from the rain,¡± he pleaded. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Emil said, frowning as he leaned closer to the boy, ¡°Dale, is your eyesight getting worse?¡± The question must have caught him off guard. He flinched, averting Emil¡¯s scrutinizing gaze as if caught in a criminal act. ¡°Should I take you off sentry duty?¡± Emil continued. ¡°¡­Does that mean I¡¯m not needed here anymore?¡± Dale whimpered. The corners of his eyes were trembling. ¡°No, you idiot. Do you think this place is some heavenly paradise that maintains itself? I¡¯ll find work for you. There are always things that need to be done.¡± Mia saw Dale¡¯s shoulders drop. Relief. The terrified glint in his eyes disappeared. Good for you, Dale. She understood exactly where he was coming from. Like her, the children living in this compound were all orphans. The one thing they feared the most was being abandoned again. ¡°I-I¡¯ll think about it.¡± ¡°Sure, let me know.¡± Emil ventured deeper into the compound. Mia followed closely. They soon passed an array of makeshift tents¡ªeach fabricated from an assortment of rags scavenged from the slums. A boy suddenly poked his head out from one of the tents. ¡°Mia! Emil! You¡¯re back!¡± Without warning, the boy sprinted out into the rain, clinging by Emil¡¯s side. ¡°There¡¯s a problem with the well that you should look at.¡± The boy¡¯s voice resounded above the droning pitter patter. Soon, more kids emerged from the tents, apparently overhearing the commotion. Within seconds, Emil was swarmed by a group, all clamoring for his attention. Mia waited patiently for him to address all of their concerns. ¡°Mia, welcome back. Let me help with that.¡± An older boy scrolled up to her with outstretched hands. She happily obliged. Her arms were starting to grow sore. ¡°Thanks Bruno. Can you please take that to the supply depot?¡± As she passed over the bundle of scavenged items, she grimaced. The wound on her arm suddenly throbbed, exacerbated by the rain and the weight of the items. Remembering Emil¡¯s warnings, she quickly steeled her expression. Discreetly, she pulled down the rags on her arms to cover the glaring gash. Bruno didn¡¯t seem to have noticed as he walked off with her items in hand. The rest of the kids were fixated on Emil. *** ¡°Ughhhh¡­¡± Emil groaned as he slumped against the wall. They were inside his dwelling within the compound. Mia watched as his blue eyes slowly closed. Speaking with the other kids seemed to have sapped all of his remaining energy. Not wanting to be a bother, she stared at the window, observing the rain cascade down the dirty pane of glass. It¡¯s been almost two years since I¡¯ve lived here. This compound that they called home used to be the site of an abandoned lumber mill. Emil and Raz discovered it by chance two years ago. After securing the place with fortifications, they picked up orphans like stray animals, growing the compound into the community it is today. Mia was one of the first strays the two had found. While Emil always lamented the dilapidated state of this place, for Mia and the others, the compound was their paradise. It was a safe haven that kept them fed and safe. In the Lower Dannan slums, orphans were treated like livestock. The lucky ones were recruited into gangs or adopted into brothels. The misfortunate ones were kidnapped and enslaved. Most starved, waiting to die in the alleyways for better luck in their next life. Emil suddenly shot up from his nap. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get your arm looked at.¡± He began sifting through the collection of items stored on a nearby shelf. Mia frowned, eyeing the purple marks smeared around Emil¡¯s eye. His naturally soft features, uncharacteristic of the rough looks of the slum''s children, were defiled by a fresh scars and bruises. You could have rested a bit longer, you know. After a few seconds, he came back with a clay bowl. A patch of dark green paste clung along the bottom. ¡°Looks like I need to make more again. Damn Raz and his crew keep getting into fights.¡± He scratched the back of his head, frustrated. ¡°Stick out your arm and unroll your sleeves.¡± She did as she was told. Emil scooped up a line of the paste with a wooden spoon and smeared it along her wound. The gash burned slightly at the pressure until the cooling sensation of the paste began to soothe. Emil then teared a piece of clean cloth and wrapped it around her arm. ¡°Does it hurt?¡± ¡°No,¡± she lied, fighting to keep her face neutral. The last thing she wanted was to add to his list of worries. ¡°How many herbs do we have left?¡± ¡°We¡¯re low. The markets haven¡¯t been putting them on sale.¡± ¡°Great.¡± Emil sighed. ¡°How about the bandages?¡± ¡°I think the ones you¡¯re using are the last batch.¡± ¡°Bruno brought back more cloth.¡± He beckoned at a pile beside him. ¡°Can you cut them into strips and boil them? Or find someone else to do it if your arm hurts. Maybe Dale, if he¡¯s changed his mind about¡ª¡± Thud! The door suddenly slammed open. A tall boy stomped into Emil¡¯s dwelling. Towering at six feet tall, his head was nearly at the ceiling of the house. His tanned face blemished with nasty scars. It was Raz, the other leader of this compound. ¡°Mia,¡± he uttered, nearly growling. His wild eyes landed on the bandages wrapped around her arms. Emil shot her an accusatory glance. She shook her head in denial. It must have been Bruno. ¡°What the hell happened?!¡± Raz yelled, livid. ¡°Calm down, Raz. She¡¯s¡ª¡± ¡°Answer the damn question!¡± Raz swung, smashing his fist into a nearby shelf. Mia covered her mouth in shock. Emil shot up¡ªhis eyes narrowed on the damaged items fallen on the floor. ¡°Yeah, yeah, you¡¯re angry. I get it. But how about you don¡¯t destroy everything around you?¡± he snarled. The two boys glared at each other in silence, hands balled into fists, chests flaring. Mia stepped back in case a fight broke out. Emil was the first to relent. ¡°¡­Two outsiders intruded on our territory. They saw her.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The Red Fangs.¡± Raz¡¯s eyes grew wide. Without another word, he turned and stomped towards the door. ¡°Raz!¡± Emil grabbed his arm. ¡°Where are you going?!¡± Raz glanced back, eyes blood-shot. ¡°To teach them a lesson, obviously.¡± ¡°I already broke one of their legs! The other one has a smashed jaw!¡± ¡°That¡¯s not enough! This shit is never going to stop at this rate. They need to learn to never mess with us again,¡± Raz declared as he ripped his arm free and broke out of the door. Emil immediately gave chase. *** By the time Mia caught up, a crowd had already gathered around the two. She managed to squeeze through the thin gaps to reach the front, taking care not to disturb her bandaged arm. Emil had Raz by the collars. ¡°Let go,¡± Raz spat. ¡°This is fucking stupid. And you know it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who doesn¡¯t understand, Emil. If we let this pass, the whole slum is going to look down on us. They¡¯ll think that we¡¯re soft, we¡¯re scared, and that we¡¯re a bunch of cowards! How we react today will decide how the rest of the slums treat us going forward!" ¡°You¡¯re wrong.¡± Raz snorted. ¡°Of course. You know best, right? You¡¯re the smartest out of all of us here.¡± His eyes suddenly grew dangerous. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean you know everything. Now, let go before I lose my patience.¡± ¡°Try me,¡± Emil retorted. Madness danced in his eyes. The crowd, who had been anxiously quiet before, suddenly burst into a frenzy. The somber ambiance was immediately overtaken by the excitement of a potential brawl. ¡°Hahaha! Did you forget who you''re fighting?¡± Raz smirked. ¡°You think taking out two of the Red Fang¡¯s trash suddenly means you¡¯re hot shit?¡± Raz tossed out a savage hook. Emil ducked, forced to let go of his collars as Raz¡¯s fist swiped the air. Both of them jumped back, hands raised before their heads, sizing each other up for the next exchange. The crowd exploded. Gasps and cheers rippled amongst the kids like wildfire. The entirety of the compound buzzed with excitement at the matchup between its two leaders. Mia clasped her hands, praying for a quick resolution. Chapter 2 - Expelled from paradise (2) Emil Rain thundered in his ears. How long have I been fighting? The crowd screamed and jeered in the background. Their voices subdued against the incessant rain. Emil narrowed his eyes. His vision blurred. His head spun, concussed from Raz¡¯s relentless blows. ¡°What? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re already done?¡± Raz¡¯s taunt blared in his ears. Emil felt his throat heat up as he threw a right jab. The heavy rain, however, sapped his stamina. Fatigue from his earlier fight against the Red Fangs dulled his movements. His reach was short. His punch struck the air. Raz jumped back¡ªa spring in his step. Shit! Emil caught a flash of the oncoming kick in his periphery. Pain exploded from his jaws. The next thing he knew he was staring up at the sky. Frigid waters drenched his back. Cold rain pattered against his face, chilling the scalding sting blistering across his cheeks. Raz loomed above. He crouched down, resting his knees against Emil¡¯s chest. In his hands was a knife, its silver edge pressed dangerously beneath Emil¡¯s neck. With just a gentle push, the blade would sink into his throat. The cheers of the crowd suddenly boomed in his ears. Emil felt a flush of heat rise to his cheeks as his will to fight waned. ¡°¡­I lost.¡± ¡°Obviously,¡± Raz snorted as he withdrew his knife and wiped his face. Blood soaked the side of his eyes and the corners of his lips. Although he won, he didn¡¯t escape the fight unscathed. ¡°Not bad, Emil. You got better since our last rodeo.¡± Raz sneered, eyeing his bloodied sleeves. ¡°But did you seriously think you could win?¡± Ptoop! Emil spat out a mouthful of blood. The red spittle was instantly carried away by the pouring rain. His mouth filled with a bitter aftertaste. ¡°No, I¡¯m not stupid.¡± Raz raised an eye. ¡°But you fought me anyways.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Which was pretty fucking stupid,¡± he scoffed before turning to one of the older boys in the crowd, ¡°Bruno, bring some bandages to my place later. I¡¯m staying put for the night.¡± Without another word, he departed from the scene. The crowd parted to make way for his exit as Raz disappeared into one of the dilapidated huts by the edge of the compound. *** Agony teared through his jaws. The pain pulsated madly¡ªa mixture between a sharp sting and dull buzz. Emil winced, glaring at himself in the mirror. The aftermath of his fight with Raz was becoming clearer. Black rings crowded around his eyes. His nose was still dripping blood. The bruises smeared across his face was beginning to purple. The bastard gave me a damn make-over. ¡°Keep your hands steady,¡± he said, his voice mired in resentment. His reflection continued to flicker under the dim candlelight. Mia was in his room, holding up the mirror for him to examine his injuries. ¡°I¡¯m trying! My arms are sore! Did you forget that I¡¯m injured as well?!¡± ¡°Wanna try having your face injured too?¡± ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t be mean! You¡¯re the one who chose to fight Raz!¡± ¡°Oh, really now? Do I look like I¡¯m stupid, Mia?¡± Emil snapped, ¡°You think I picked a fight because I enjoy getting humiliated in front of everyone?¡± ¡°¡­Then why fight him if you knew you were going to lose?¡± she asked, poking her head out behind the mirror sheepishly. Dammit, I¡¯m getting too heated. He let out a deep breath. ¡°I was trying to prove a point. To make Raz realize that he was doing something incredibly stupid. So stupid that I would choose to pick a losing fight in order to stop him.¡± The side of his face was becoming hot to touch. Yeah, it¡¯s definitely going to swell. His injuries from the Red Fangs were already bad enough. Fighting Raz only exacerbated things. Emil could already imagine all the taunts and giggles about his new appearance tomorrow. I should just lock myself inside. ¡°But what if he didn¡¯t change his mind after the fight?¡± Mia asked. ¡°Then I would¡¯ve tried to break an arm or leg. Enough so that he won¡¯t be able to fight the Red Fangs,¡± he said, rising to his feet. Night had already descended. It was getting late.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Alright, it¡¯s time for bed.¡± After escorting Mia back to her dwelling, Emil returned to his place. He shoved the items spilled by Raz to the side and plopped down onto the makeshift bedroll in the corner of the room. He closed his eyes. Rain continued to patter against the rooftop. Raz might have a point. Today wasn¡¯t the first time they had an encounter with the Red Fangs. Their members were spotted multiple times encroaching on their territory within the past few weeks. And it wasn¡¯t just the Red Fangs either¡ªother gangs in the slums were also starting to roam near their turf. Emil didn¡¯t think they had a weak reputation in the slums, however. Raz¡¯s infamy as a savage fighter usually kept the other gangs at bay. There were simply very few teenagers in the slums that were his size. Something odd must be happening in the Lower Dannan slums. The thought lingered in his head until the rain gradually lulled him to sleep. *** Thud! Thud! Thud! Emil woke up to his door being slammed. ¡°Emil! Are you awake?¡± The frantic knocking was accompanied by a shrill voice. Sure am now. He groaned as he wiped away the grime festering in his eyes. Dim light from daybreak peeked through the ragged cloth covering his windows. As the stupor began to wear off, he winced¡ªthe entirety of his face throbbed from yesterday¡¯s confrontations. Emil brushed the side of his cheeks, tracing the swelling that had hardened overnight. Yeah. Let¡¯s not look in a mirror. Reluctantly, he crawled out of his bedroll and went to the door. ¡°What?¡± He didn¡¯t bother to hide his annoyance. It was Mia. ¡°There¡¯s¡ª¡± Mia¡¯s eyes grew wide upon seeing his face, ¡°¡­are you okay?¡± ¡°No, but when has that ever mattered?¡± He sneered. ¡°So, what¡¯s going on?¡± Her face darkened. ¡°You need to come to the gate. Raz took some of the older boys outside of the compound before dawn. They just returned.¡± Emil¡¯s heart sank. Dread crawled up his spine. You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. He was almost certain of the answer, but he had to ask just in case, ¡°Where did they go?¡± ¡°The Red Fang¡¯s quarters.¡± *** A group had already gathered by the time he arrived at the gates. Emil immediately spotted Raz amongst the crowd. It was impossible to miss him¡ªthe six-foot teenager was a goliath compared to most of the kids residing in the compound. He was frantically scrambling about, trying to keep the curious crowd at an arm¡¯s length. ¡°Raz!¡± Emil called. Raz immediately spun towards his voice. The first thing Emil noticed was the makeshift bandage clumsily wrapped around his forehead. Blots of dark red had already soaked through the cloth. The side of his face was stained in cuts¡ªthe blood still fresh, barely dried. What unsettled Emil the most, however, was the panicked glint in his eyes. I have a bad feeling about this. ¡°Emil, I need your help! Bruno¡¯s badly hurt!¡± Raz was about to lose it. The crowd quickly parted for Emil and Mia to enter. At the center of the commotion was Bruno¡ªthe boy was laid on his back, his face pale, eyes trembling with difficulty. A puddle of blood was pooling beneath him. Emil took a deep breath to prepare himself. Then he lifted Bruno¡¯s shirt. ¡°Oh fuck.¡± The smell was rancid. A gruesome incision had been carved into Bruno¡¯s stomach. Blood pulsated out slowly with every beat of his heart. The wound was already festering¡ªyellowish pus mixed with the blood, foaming at the edges of the cut. This was bad. This was really bad. ¡°What the fuck happened to him?!¡± Emil screamed. ¡°H-He took a machete to the stomach,¡± Raz whimpered. ¡°From who?! The Red Fangs?!¡± Raz nodded reluctantly. Emil saw red. ¡°I thought I made it clear that it was a stupid move! I got beat up and humiliated in front of everyone, for what?! For Bruno to get sliced in the fucking stomach?!¡± Raz averted his gaze, unable to refute. His teeth were clenched, rattling with guilt. ¡°Mia! Get me everything on the top shelf inside my room.¡± Emil then pointed at a pair of boys in the crowd. ¡°You two, find me a sewing kit. There should be a few in the supply depot. The rest of you need to get a fire going! I need a bucket of boiling water!¡¯ The crowd spurred into action. Emil stared at the nasty wound, debating what would be the best course of action. The machete was probably poisoned or infected. Otherwise, Bruno¡¯s wound would not be festering yet. I have antidotes for the common poisons, but if it¡¯s something that I can¡¯t¡ª He shook his head, snapping himself out of the useless thought. I need to clean the wound. Halt the bleeding. He¡¯s already lost a lot of blood. Some of the herbal paste I have in stock might help coagulate the blood and ease the infection. But how do I even apply it? His wound is insanely deep. He slammed his head repeatedly with his palm, rattling his brain for any medical knowledge from the books on his late parent¡¯s shelves. Bruno suddenly started groaning. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± Raz asked, alarmed. Emil placed his hands over Bruno¡¯s forehead. The skin was blistering hot. ¡°Fever.¡± He clicked his tongue. I don¡¯t have time to wait for water. He grabbed the set of clean bandages that he brought over for emergencies. Lightly, he dabbed at the incision, trying to clean the surface. With just a slight tap, however, the wound oozed. Blood overflowed, mixed with foul pus. The bandages were gone in an instant. Before he could ask for more, Bruno began to spasm. ¡°Why is he doing that?!¡± Raz yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t know!¡± ¡°What do you mean you don¡¯t know?!¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen this before!¡± Emil screamed. Drool leaked from Bruno¡¯s mouth as his head began to convulse. ¡°H-Hold him down for now!¡± Raz and a group of boys rushed in on Emil¡¯s instructions, desperate to keep Bruno still. ¡°Now what?!¡± Emil¡¯s head blanked. Nothing was coming to mind. His knowledge was lacking. He had no formal training, no experience dealing with sort of anomaly. Unable to formulate a thought, he froze, mouth agape, staring dumbly at the absurd situation before him. ¡°Emil! Say something dammit!¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡­I¡ª¡± A pair of hands gripped his shoulders. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to save him!¡± Raz screamed into his ears, his tone full of accusation. ¡°I¡¯m not a fucking doctor!¡± Emil shoved him away. The strings inside him broke. The injustice of being screamed at for something beyond his control finally caused him to snap. ¡°You idiots never listen to anything I say! And then when things go wrong, you come crawling to me, begging me to fix it. I¡¯m not a God, Raz! What am I supposed to do when you bring people back who are half-dead?!¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± Raz tried to retort. He flinched instead as Emil stomped towards him. ¡°You caused this,¡± Emil got up into his face, ¡°This is on you. Your ego couldn¡¯t stand being wrong, and so you had to go out there and try to be a hero. And now Bruno¡¯s blood is on your hands!¡± Silence suffocated the air. Emil¡¯s words lingered over the vicinity. Bruno continued to groan in the background. Fucking hell, what am I supposed to do about this? As he grappled with the next step in his treatment¡ª The bell from the gate suddenly rang. Dale rushed down from his post manning the sentry towers. His face was in full panic. ¡°T-The Red Fangs are here!¡± Chapter 3 - Expelled from paradise (3) Emil News of the Red Fang¡¯s intrusion rippled through the crowd gathered at the gates. Everyone froze, stunned with disbelief, unable to move from the shocking announcement. Emil stared at Dale¡ªdumbfounded. ¡°¡­How many are there?¡± he forced himself to speak, struggling to push down the panic rising to his throat. ¡°I-I think at least a hundred! They¡¯re armed as well!¡± Suddenly, he felt light-headed. Emil closed his eyes, grimacing, holding up the side of his head. The day had barely started and already there was crisis after crisis. Bruno¡¯s life was dangling on a thread, and now one hundred armed members of the Red Fangs were marching towards their compound. It was obvious why they were here. ¡°Emil, I¡ª¡± ¡°Shut the fuck up, Raz,¡± Emil snapped as his eyes shot open. He threw the bloodied bandages in his hands onto the ground and stomped on the remains. Heat rushed to his face. He cursed¡ªobscenities poured out of his mouth like water. His indignation caused his swollen jaws to throb. Fucking hell! The pain was excruciating, but it helped clear his head. He soon realized that everyone near the gates was staring at him. As usual, when a crisis arose, it was always him who they turned to. One thing at a time. He took a deep breath. Panic gnawed at the back of his mind, but he focused on his throbbing jaws to suppress the turbulent thoughts. ¡°¡­Dale, get all the sentries to their posts. They¡¯re to be armed and ready,¡± Emil began, ¡°Raz, get everyone else ready to fight. Set up the barricades. Assume that the gate will be breached.¡± He turned to the remaining crowd of children. ¡°Carry Bruno to my place. Mia should be there. Tell her to keep the fever under control and slow down the bleeding. I¡¯ll be there to help right after everything settles down. Come back afterwards and help Raz.¡± Emil rushed towards the sentry tower after delivering everyone¡¯s instructions. Behind him, the compound broke into a frenzy as news of the Red Fang¡¯s approach spread like wildfire. As he reached the top of the tower, Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. The corridor before the gates was swarmed with Red Fang members. Machetes and knives dangled from their hands. Each of the members were adorned in hard leather with the insignia of a crimson wolf woven onto their sleeves. It was the gang¡¯s signature embroidery. Emil heard that they only wore it when the gang went to war. Raz, what the hell did you do?! One of the gang members noticed his presence atop of the sentry tower. In an instant, the entirety of the Red Fangs turned on him. Shivers crawled down Emil¡¯s spine. He shuddered, petrified by the weight of the bloodthirsty eyes bearing down on him. A sinister voice radiated from the crowd, ¡°I heard that there was a boy with intelligent blue eyes who had Raz on a leash.¡± It came from an older teenager standing at the rear. Emil struggled to meet his venomous gaze. ¡°The name¡¯s Elias. You must be Emil,¡± he said as his eyes burned with hatred. Even the bigshot himself is here. Elias was the name of the Red Fang¡¯s leader. Emil forced to himself to smirk to feign confidence. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he replied, barely managing to keep his voice from shaking. Sweat clung to the side of his neck. ¡°May I ask why the Red Fangs are encroaching on our territory?¡± ¡°Why?¡± Elias snarled, ¡°Did that bastard Raz not tell you?!¡± The sound of Raz¡¯s name immediately threw the Red Fangs into a frenzy. Like famished beasts, they thrashed and growled, slamming their weapons together and stomping the ground, desperate to go wild at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°His goons raided our territory this morning! When those bastards were done fucking everything up, I found my cousin murdered in cold blood!¡± Elias screamed, tears foaming at the corners of his eyes, ¡°Now tell me, Emil¡ªare you still confused why I¡¯m here?!¡± Well, shit. Emil clenched his teeth at the revelation. He had a tiny sliver of hope that he might have been able to negotiate their way out of their mess. With the facts laid out, however, it was clear that a peaceful resolution was never on the table. The Red Fangs were hell-bent on revenge, and they won¡¯t be satiated until their loss was paid back in full. The ladder behind him rattled. Dale and the other sentries finally arrived. Each of them carried a makeshift crossbow, fashioned from wood, iron and braided rope. Emil took one from Dale, making sure to keep the weapons hidden beneath the scaffolding. ¡°Get into position. We¡¯re going to fight. Don¡¯t shoot unless I tell you to,¡± he whispered to the group. Elias suddenly called his name, ¡°Emil! I¡¯m a merciful man. I¡¯ll give you two options. Option one¡ªbring us Raz and we¡¯ll leave the rest of you alone. Option two¡ªwe bust this rotted gate down and slaughter everyone inside.¡± ¡°Any chance you¡¯ll be willing to change your mind? How about we trade and barter instead?¡± Emil asked, trying to buy time for the others to get to their posts.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not,¡± Elias answered, his eyes gleaming with madness, ¡°Now choose!¡± In the corner of his eyes, Emil saw Dale flash him the ready signal from the other tower. He closed his eyes. He swallowed his nerves. His heart screamed to his ears. Here it goes. ¡°I think I¡¯ll choose neither!¡± he shot up from his spot and raised his crossbow, ¡°Fire!¡± Mechanical clanks snapped from the drawstrings of a dozen crossbows. Iron bolts suddenly crowded the airspace, raining down upon the Red Fangs before the gates. The surprise attack was devastating¡ªthe bolts shredded the gang members apart like paper. Emil¡¯s attack went straight at Elias. The Red Fang leader looked befuddled, mouth agape as his men began to fall. Before the bolt could land however, one of the Red Fangs shoved him out of the way. The grunt took the attack head-on as the bolt plunged into their neck. ¡°Take cover!¡± Elias screamed while being dragged out of the line of fire. ¡°Keep firing! Aim to kill!¡± Emil ordered as he reloaded the crossbow. They had to down as many Red Fangs as possible. Their compound only housed thirty orphans. Half of them were too young and small to put up any resistance against a violent gang. They were severely outnumbered compared to the one hundred strong Red Fangs. ¡°Shields out! Bring the battering ram!¡± Elias called over the chaos. Half a dozen Red Fangs soon emerged from cover. In their hands were massive makeshift shields, affixed together from a mishmash of wood and metal that covered the length of their bodies. Behind the shield bearers, another group marched forward with a giant log. ¡°Aim at the ones carrying the logs!¡± Emil cried. He fired a bolt at the Red Fangs by the front of the battering ram. The shield bearers, however, had positioned themselves at the vanguard. The giant shields cut off the trajectory as Emil¡¯s bolt clanked off the surface. With the formidable shield wall leading the way, the battering ram slowly advanced towards the gate. ¡°Stop shooting!¡± Emil clicked his tongue. They were ready for us. There was no doubt. The battering ram and shields were prepared specifically to breach this gate. The Red Fang¡¯s frequent intrusion on their territory must have been to scout their defenses. They were always planning to invade. Raz¡¯s raid just gave them justification. ¡°Dale, Plan B!¡± Dale nodded gravely before descending the sentry tower. Emil fired a few more bolts at the battering ram carriers, trying to sneak a few shots through the gaps in the shield wall. ¡°Emil, I¡¯m ready!¡± The battering ram was nearly at the gate. ¡°Do it!¡± The ground suddenly shook at his command. The path to compound gate was a narrow passage flanked by remnants of scaffolding and partially constructed buildings. Emil had repurposed those remnants into collapsible structures. The Red Fangs glanced up in horror. A long, ominous creak echoed in the air, followed by a horrible crack as the scaffoldings along the path began to collapse. Wood and stone rained down, threatening to bury the Red Fangs beneath the rubble. Shrieks of terror filled the air. The log carriers immediately dropped the battering ram and dove out of the way. The shield bearers weren¡¯t so lucky. The bulky shields were difficult to discard and their weight made it impossible to escape with. Nearly all of the shield bearers were crushed. Dust and debris soon packed the air. Emil narrowed his eyes, examining the destruction. Ruins of the scaffolds crowded the passage, turning it into a quagmire of rubble. The battering ram was nowhere to be found, presumably buried somewhere beneath the destruction. A few bodies laid lifeless amidst the wreckage. But most of the Red Fangs managed to escape unscathed. The collapsible structures took out far fewer than he would have liked. There were still too many of them left to force the Red Fangs to retreat. Not good. They were currently at a stalemate, but for how long? Their supplies were limited. Meanwhile, the Red Fangs were free to stay put and form a blockade. As long as they were patient, Emil couldn¡¯t do anything to stop them. Elias must have arrived at the same conclusion. He immediately ordered the Red Fangs to move out of the vicinity of the gates. Most of their members lingered at the outskirts, just out of the range of the crossbows. The Red Fangs began to set up camp. Emil could only watch in frustration. Now what? *** ¡°How is he?¡± Mia asked. Emil removed the wet cloth placed over Bruno¡¯s forehead. The boy was still unconscious, whimpering something unintelligible. The surface of his skin remained hot, but the temperature had fallen a bit since the onset of his fever. ¡°I have no idea,¡± Emil admitted, grabbing a set of bandages, ¡°Maybe he¡¯s getting better. Or maybe his body is just giving up.¡± ¡°Emil?!¡± Her horrified shriek fell on deaf ears. Emil lifted Bruno¡¯s shirt and continued dabbing at the gruesome incision on his stomach. Mia did a good job. The bleeding had slowed and the wound no longer oozed pus at the slightest of pressures. ¡°Do we have more bandages?¡± he asked, tossing aside the dirty one in his hands. A pile of used cloth, stained in red and yellow, were stacked in the corner. The rancid smell no longer bothered him. ¡°Here,¡± Mia handed him another batch. Emil continued cleaning until he could no longer see yellow stains. Should I stitch him up for now? The incision was too deep and wide. Manual intervention was needed to help the wound heal. The issue was whether he had done enough to clean out the infection. I wish I knew a way to find out. Maybe I¡¯ll apply another coating of ointment just in case. For the stitches, I need a small fire to disinfect the needle. And alcohol¡ªdo we have any leftover? I think there should still be some, assuming none of the boys drank¡ª ¡°Emil.¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± He shook his head; the sound of his name took him out of his thoughts. ¡°You should take a break.¡± Perplexed by the sudden comment, Emil raised his head. Mia was staring at him, frowning. Her eyes quivered with anxiety. ¡°You haven¡¯t eaten all day, right?¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± his stomach grumbled. Damn. He was outed before he could even think of a convincing lie. As if suddenly aware of its own impoverished state, his body spurred into action. Hunger pangs ravaged his stomach. The side of his head throbbed with a dull buzz. Emil slumped against the wall, suddenly awash with fatigue. ¡°Honestly, I can¡¯t remember.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t remember because it never happened,¡± she said, handing him two slices of salted jerky. Emil accepted them without complaint. He sank his teeth into rough texture, savagely ripping the chunks apart. The caustic flavor of oversalted meat flooded his mouth. The flavor was unpleasant, but he ate greedily, trying to ignore the harsh taste as he washed down the chewy bites. It was nearly evening. More than half a day had passed since the Red Fangs made camp on the outskirts of the compound. Emil kept a few people on rotation to monitor their activities. Several times the Red Fangs were caught trying to recover the buried battering ram. The sentries were ordered to keep them away with the crossbows. At this rate, we¡¯ll run out of ammunition before food. Without iron bolts for the crossbows, they had no other means of deterring the Red Fangs. A fight might be unavoidable at this rate. But we still need a way to deal with their numbers¡ª Footsteps thundered outside his dwelling. Frantic voices cut through the tense silence. A commotion. Soon enough, Emil heard his name being called. Mia rushed to her feet to open the door. Dale was at the entrance. ¡°The Red Fangs are moving again!¡± Chapter 4 - Expelled from paradise (4) Emil Emil rushed towards the gate. Dale trailed closely from behind. ¡°Are they going for the battering rams?¡± ¡°No idea! But the entire gang suddenly started running towards the gates!¡± The entire gang? Did they get impatient and decide to overwhelm us with numbers instead? It seemed unlikely. The move was too impulsive. It incurred too much casualties. Emil thought Elias was much more calculating given rumors of the Red Fang¡¯s turf wars. Throwing lives away to brute force his way through was not how he fought. What the hell are you planning, Elias? Barricades were already being set up as Emil and Dale ran pass towards the sentry towers. Raz was shouting in the background, rounding everyone into positions. Emil sprinted up the ladder¡ªhis lungs burning by the time he reached the top. The sentries on duty didn¡¯t seem to have noticed him. Whatever was happening beneath dominated their attention. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± he asked. The two sentries spun around. Their eyes were wide, shaking in horror like they had just witnessed something incomprehensible. They mumbled, stuttering something incoherent while pointing their trembling hands at the path below. ¡°Move!¡± Emil shoved them aside. Below the sentry towers, the Red Fangs were desperately climbing over the rubble towards the gate. They kept glancing back¡ªshouting obscenities as if they were running away from something. The source of their fear seemed to be a single man. Alone. He was on the outskirts of the path, trudging slowly towards the Red Fangs. Emil shuddered. The hair on his skin rose. His mind stirred, suddenly overcome with an intense dread. He didn¡¯t understand why, but watching the man¡¯s ghoulish movements sent shivers down his spine. In the midst of his confusion, he noticed black lumps littered around the man¡¯s vicinity. There was a thick stench of char permeating the air¡ªinterwoven with a thick, fatty odour. It was not unlike meat being grilled on a firepit. It would be another second before he discovered how apt this comparison was. Wait, those are¡ª Emil covered his mouth. His stomach churned at the disturbing realization. It took every ounce of his willpower not to throw up. The black lumps around the man were corpses. Red Fang members. Dead. Incinerated until they were nearly unrecognizable. The man suddenly screamed. Emil winced, plugging his ears. The loud, harrowing screech didn¡¯t sound like something that could be made by a human. Without warning, orbs of flames flared into existence. They orbited around the man¡¯s body, flickering with an ominous incandescent glow. The man stomped forward. The flame orbs suddenly paused, hovering still as if frozen in time, before snapping towards the Red Fangs. Screams pierced the air. The unfortunate members clawed at their bodies as flames devoured them with glee. In just a few seconds, their cries abruptly stopped. With a quiet thud, they fell¡ªthe remains of their bodies collapsed into a pile of ash. Where did those flames come from? Emil forced himself to not dwell on the horrific sight. He scanned the surroundings. There was nothing that could explain what he just saw. There was no ignition source, no tinder, nothing that the man could use to produce scorching flames with his bare hands. It didn¡¯t make sense, unless¡ª The realization struck him like thunder. It was the only reasonable conclusion he could think of. He¡¯s an Exalted. Exalted were special individuals with otherworldly powers that couldn¡¯t be explained by logic. Emil didn¡¯t know much about them, except that appearance wise, they were indistinguishable from normal Ordinaries like himself. In the slums of Lower Dannan, the Exalted were a rarity¡ªtheir existence something of a passing legend that he would occasionally hear amidst whispers on the streets. Emil never paid much attention to those rumors¡ªthey always seemed so far-fetched that he was sure they were exaggerated. Seeing an Exalted up close, however, made him realize how wrong he was. If anything, the rumors downplayed what they could do. The remaining Red Fangs arrived at the foot of the gates. Emil glanced down, watching as they desperately banged against the door. The Exalted loomed close.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Open the damned gates!¡± It was Elias who yelled over the chaos. Their eyes met. Terror. Panic. The pleading glint in his gaze was unsettling. ¡°Emil! Let us through!¡± The Exalted continued his approach, now blocking off the exit out of the path that led to the compound. A deluge of burnt corpses laid in the wake of its rampage. Questions flared in Emil¡¯s head. Why was an Exalted here? Why was it doing all this? Was it seeking vengeance against the Red Fangs? As the Exalted got closer, however, Emil understood. Its eyes were blood-shot with madness. Its skin was warped and wrinkled, smeared with an ominous blue glow as its veins popped onto the surface. Its expression was terrifying¡ªits teeth bared like a feral beast; fangs protruded outwards, curved, tearing into its own jaws. Blood dripped from the self-inflicted wounds, drop by drop, leaving beneath a crimson trail. The thing was no longer human. Whatever rationality left in the person was long devoured by insanity. What remained was a monster on a warpath¡ªone that would not stop until it had burned itself out. ¡°¡­Tell everyone to evacuate,¡± Emil said. Dale and the sentries gawked at him, dumbfounded. ¡°Move! Tell everyone to leave! Now!¡± he screamed this time. The urgency in his voice jolted the boys out of their daze. ¡°A-Are you sure? What about the compound?¡± ¡°We can¡¯t defend it. Not against that thing.¡± Emil grimaced at his own words, staring at the Exalted. ¡°Use the emergency exit. Take whatever food you can grab. Leave everything else behind.¡± Most of it is going to be burned to ash anyways. He grabbed a crossbow from one of the sentry¡¯s hands. ¡°I¡¯m going to use the Red Fangs to buy us some time,¡± his voice shook as he uttered those horrific words, ¡°Now go!¡± Dale and the others scrambled down the sentry tower. Emil turned his attention back to the corridor. The Red Fangs began tossing themselves at the gate. The metal door creaked with a violent thud from every collision. Emil loaded his crossbow and took aim at the largest member below. His hands wobbled. His heart screamed with guilt. It has to be done. He imagined Mia, Raz, and Dale being engulfed by the raging inferno¡ªtheir screams piercing the air as their bodies melted to ash. The possibility of that reality was all he needed. I¡¯m sorry. He pulled the trigger. The crossbow clicked. The iron bolt soared through the air and plunged directly into the large teenager¡¯s neck. Blood spurted like a geyser as he collapsed. Emil immediately loaded the next bolt. His lack of hesitation startled him. The daily desperation to survive as an orphan eroded his sense of morality. These barbaric atrocities that he could have never fathomed himself doing, he now did so with ease. As long as it was to survive. As long as it was for his friends. As long as he could find the justification, he could do anything. ¡°Emil!¡± Elias yelled from the foot of the gates, ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Emil responded with a snap of his crossbow. Elias ducked as the bolt narrowly missed its mark. Something seemed to click in his head as his desperate gaze twisted with fury. ¡°You bastard!¡± Despair and resentment clouded his blood-shot eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you! I swear on it! Even if I¡¯m dead, I will not forget this!¡± Without warning, Elias spun around towards the Exalted. The monster in human form continued to dragged itself forward¡ªa low, guttural growl escaped its throat with every step. Elias raised his hands skyward. ¡°Come! We¡¯re breaking through! Follow me with the determination to die!¡± he screamed. The Red Fang members cried in response, rallying behind their leader¡¯s desperate last stand. Elias charged, brandishing the machete he held aloft. His men followed close, intent not to let their leader face the monstrosity alone. The Exalted paused, staring them down. Its eyes suddenly gleamed red. Emil watched as the space in the area began to vibrate, flickering with uncertainty as if it had a will of its own. Suddenly, a high-pitch ring buzzed in his ears. Emil felt a surge of hot air rush towards him. For a moment, the heat was almost uncomforting, like a warm embrace from an old friend. Then he saw white. *** When he came to, he found himself staring at the wretched sky. His vision blurred. The air was thick with smoke. His eyes watered, irritated by the ash and soot. He was on the ground somewhere. Flames cackled over the dull ring in his ears as they devoured every inch of his surroundings. Emil tried to pull himself up. His body, however, refused to cooperate. Huh? Confused, he glanced down. Oh. His lower half was a bloody mess. Most of his clothes had been incinerated to ash. The exposed skin beneath was on the verge of peeling from the intense heat. His left leg was disjointed¡ªbent so unnaturally that it was nearly pointing backwards. Did I fall from the sentry tower? Emil searched for the gate. He found the sentry towers engulfed by flames. The gate had been destroyed¡ªthe door blasted off into smithereens, the broken remnants just barely hanging onto the hinges. The Red Fangs were nowhere to be see. In the midst of all the rampaging flames, Emil saw the Exalted. Slowly, it limped towards him. Well, this is kind of terrible. He smirked at his own calmness. He already accepted his fate. Emil couldn¡¯t feel a single thing¡ªnot even the excruciating pain that have been screaming from his torn leg. Only a faint numbness frizzled along his body. His nerves must have been scorched by the heat. How long has it been since he ordered Dale to evacuate? He couldn¡¯t recall. Everything was a blur. As long as they made it out of here¡ª ¡°Emil!¡± He froze. Panic raced through his mind. Did he hear that correctly? Did someone call his name? No, I must be hallucinating. There¡¯s no way they¡ª ¡°Emil!¡± This time it was unmistakable. It was Raz¡¯s voice. Emil forced his desecrated body to turn around. His jaws dropped in disbelief. Raz was standing atop of the burning ruins of the compound. His face was blacked with soot. Lingering behind the veil of flames and smoke, Emil could make out silhouettes of the other children. He didn¡¯t want to believe it. Why?! WhyWhyWhyWhy?! Why are they still here?! His heart wailed. They should have evacuated ages ago. Emil turned around. The Exalted was suddenly alert, its head twisted towards Raz¡¯s direction. ¡°Leave! Run! Get out of here!¡± he tried to scream. But no sounds would come. His voice croaked. All he could produce were unintelligible gasps. Please! Go before it¡¯s too late! Raz and the others didn¡¯t understand, however. Suddenly, they were sprinting towards him, screaming his name frantically. No! No! No! Emil tried to wave them away, but it was already too late. Behind him, he could hear the Exalted cackling with glee. The last thing he saw was his friends devoured by flames. Chapter 5 - I am a monster Hortensia Hortensia observed the blazing ruins with casual nonchalance. The remnants of the smoldering flames continued to shriek in the background. They burned, eating away at the wooden structures with murderous glee. She furrowed her nostrils¡ªslightly irked at the nauseating smoke suffocating the area. She heard rumors that the abandoned lumbermill in Lower Dannan had been seized by a group of miscreants some time ago. Confirming it firsthand allowed her to archive one of the many thoughts that occasionally gnawed in the back of her subconscious. How unfortunate, she mused as she glanced at the pile of ashen corpses littered along the ruins. Judging by their sizes, they must have been children. Despite the hellish scene before her eyes, Hortensia¡¯s gaze remained unperturbed. Not a single ounce of horror or disgust¡ªnot even a reaction could be seen across her indifferent face. For her, observing this tragedy was just the hallmark of another day of work. A small part of her job. Another part of her job was punishing misbehavior. Hortensia lowered her gaze. The source of the conflagrations around her was lying flat on the ground, bathing in a pool of his own blood. A crimson line had been drawn across his neck, severing the head from the rest of his body. Despite being dead, the skin of the Exalted¡¯s corpse continued to radiate a faint azure blue. It was a visual symptom of Overclocking¡ªa phenomenon where an Exalted goes mad due to excessive exposure to mana. Insanity, delusions, and a compulsion towards extreme violence were common side effects. An Exalted that was Overclocked could no longer be considered human. Due to their capacity for destruction and a complete loss of rationality, they were classified as natural disasters that must be swiftly eliminated. Failure to do so led to the carnage before her eyes. Hortensia felt a tinge of regret. If she had been faster to respond, then perhaps¡ª Footsteps. The crunch of rubble being trampled and kicked aside echoed behind her. Hortensia tilted her head back. It was a young man dressed in all black. His face blemished by ash. His teeth clenched, rattling as if he was barely able to hold his composure. On the ground in front of him were three unconscious bodies. ¡°Van, what¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Survivors,¡± Van replied, before shaking his head, ¡°Surviving, rather. Two of them appear to be in critical condition. I¡¯m not sure if they¡¯ll live.¡± Amidst the three, there was a young girl encased in soot. Beside her was a tall male, roughly in his mid-teens. His body was almost entirely black, covered in third-degree burns¡ªhis face unrecognizable. The last person was a younger male. Coagulated blood drenched his lower half. His legs and joints appeared to be mutilated from blunt trauma. ¡°And?¡± Hortensia asked, ¡°What are you planning to do with these three?¡± Van flinched, flabbergasted by the question, ¡°H-Huh?! Save them, of course! Surely, we have to do something to help¡ª¡± ¡°Van,¡± she cut him off. Her eyes were unbearably cold. ¡°Your job as an agent of Steiger is not to save the lives of orphaned miscreants. There are much better uses of your time.¡± ¡°Director!¡± he protested. ¡°Root out corruption. Eliminate Desperados. Maintain the status quo. The three mandates of Steiger,¡± she said sternly, ¡°It¡¯s only for those three reasons why you¡¯re allowed to stand before me.¡± Van grimaced. His hands had balled into fists, shaking with indignation as he was backed into a corner. Hortensia smirked, slightly awed by the young man¡¯s earnestness. ¡°Give me a compelling reason why we should save these orphans,¡± she offered him an out. ¡°Do we need a reason to help those in need?¡± he hissed. ¡°Yes. Steiger isn¡¯t a charity. It¡¯s an organization with limited personnel, limited resources, and limited time. It does not make decisions or take actions that produce no value. And so, tell me,¡± Hortensia demanded, ¡°what''s the value in saving these orphans?¡± Van¡¯s answer, however, went beyond her expectations. ¡°¡­Article 5, Passage 4 of the Ardair Code of Laws,¡± Van began to recite, ¡°The rights of children are upheld by their membership to a registered household. In other words¡ª¡± Van¡¯s eyes darkened with resentment. ¡°¡ªorphans have no rights.¡± His voice trembled as he spat out those disgusting words. With great difficulty, he beckoned towards the three lying on the ground. ¡°By law, they are not even considered human. They can be treated like livestock. You can do whatever you please with them. No matter how nefarious, how disgusting, how evil your actions are. Not even the King himself can protest. That is their value.¡± Hortensia stared at Van in stunned silence. This kid¡­ Finally, she burst into laughter. Her joyous cackles echoed over the burning remnants of the ruined compound. ¡°Is this your idea of saving them, Van? To treat them like a livestock?¡± Hortensia wiped away the tears from her laughter. Van¡¯s words gave her an idea. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll humor your request,¡± she said as her eyes lit up with a dangerous glint, ¡°Just don¡¯t complain about your decision later.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Van snapped. ¡°Really? I wonder,¡± Hortensia mused, ¡°After it¡¯s all said and done, will they thank you or resent you for forcing them to live?¡± Van crouched down to cradle the unconscious children. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter to me. Both sentiments are fine," he said, staring at their damaged bodies, "Just as long as they live.¡± ***The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Emil He remembered the first time he heard news of his parents¡¯ passing. It was a bright, sunny day. A gentle breeze caressed his face. He was in the patio, surrounded by the fresh fragrance of roses, lost in another leather-bound book found in his father¡¯s study. And then suddenly, there was a commotion. At first, Emil was annoyed at the cacophony disturbing his reading. But as footsteps thundered towards him, he glanced up. The head butler was staring at him with a pained expression. His mouth clenched. His eyes narrowed, trembling at the edges. Emil instantly knew it was about his parents. His mother and father were merchants, and they immersed themselves in their work. As a result, Emil was often left alone on the family estate during their business trips. He passed the time lost in books, learning about the world, fantasizing stories of great heroes¡ªoblivious to the concept of loneliness. At a young age, his head was already crammed with a treasure trove of knowledge. But there was nothing in those books that could have prepared him to receive this news. *** The distant memory passed. Emil found himself staring at darkness. He tried to pry his eyes open, but his body remained unresponsive. He couldn¡¯t discern whether he was blindfolded or had lost the use of his eyes. A dull, floating sensation enveloped his body. It was disorienting, foreign, as if he was a phantom trapped in another¡¯s vessel. Gradually, his mind began to clear. He could feel the hard surface protruding beneath the arch of his back. His limbs had been stretched outwards. He tried to move them. There was a bit resistance¡ªsomething had bound his wrist and ankles. Then, voices. They sounded disembodied, shrouded in harsh whispers and faint murmurs. He didn¡¯t realize it until he strained to make out their words, but his ears were ringing. The faint, high-pitch hum in the background was annoyingly persistent. ¡°¡­Are you sure, Director?¡± ¡°Yes. Certain.¡± Two distinct voices spoke in his vicinity. One was wrapped in uncertainty. The other, cold and callous. ¡°But this is untested! Even if it¡¯s legal, the ethics of it¡ª¡± ¡°He¡¯s fated to die at this point, no?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°Then proceed. You¡¯re just doing your best to save a child¡¯s life.¡± The words perplexed him. A child¡¯s life. It took a few seconds for Emil to understand. ¡­Me? The question flicked a switch in his head. Memories suddenly poured in. The darkness in his field of view turned nauseatingly bright. Red, brilliant flames raged in his surroundings. The inferno spread violently throughout the compound, swallowing up everything in its path. The safe haven¡ªthe home that he had worked so hard to build crumbled to ashes in an instant. Emil remembered being helpless on the ground. His body scorched by the Exalted¡¯s flames. His legs destroyed from falling off the sentry tower. Raz and the other children running towards him, oblivious. The Exalted behind him shrieking like a ravenous monster. And then his friends¡ª Screaming. Oh right. Everyone¡¯s dead. The next thing he heard was people yelling into his ears. ¡°He¡¯s convulsing!¡± ¡°Hold him down!¡± ¡°Hurry up and administer the aid, dammit!¡± Something sharp stabbed into the side of his neck. Emil felt a throbbing pain as the weight holding down his body intensified. Suddenly, his mind felt heavy. The frantic voices in the background gradually dimmed¡ªsubdued, until he could no longer hear them any longer. *** He woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. Emil shot up in a panic. Cold sweat drenched his back. His chest heaved as he twisted his head around to make sense of his surroundings. He was in a narrow room. The faint stench of antiseptics permeated the air. There were white candle lights above him, flickering, radiating an odd clandestine feel. On the desk beside him was a cup filled with water. Suddenly aware of his thirst, Emil reached for it, throwing caution to the wind. He drank greedily, indulging in the relief from his parched throat. The water helped clear his mind. What¡¯s going on? Where am I? The events in the compound flashed in his head. His heart raced, but he shook off the terrifying memories. Not yet. He vaguely remembered disembodied voices surrounding him. The room was empty, however. His recollections ended there. ¡°¡­Hello?¡± he reluctantly called out. Someone must have brought him here from the compound. ¡°Anyone there?¡± Silence. I should investigate. He stepped off the bed. Something gnawed at the back of his mind. Wait a minute. He glanced down. His leg, which had been mangled beyond recovery from the fall, had been healed back to normal. But more than that, the lower half of his torso was covered in patches of discolored skin. Stitches marked the boundaries of the mismatched skin tones, making his body resemble patchwork. What the hell happened to my body? ¡°Emil Engel.¡± A disembodied voice suddenly echoed in the air. Emil spun around, startled. But there was no one else in the room with him. ¡°Son of the owners of the Engel Merchant Company. Now an orphan.¡± The voice belonged to a woman. Cold, callous, devoid of compassion. As he regained his composure, Emil realized the voice was reverberating near the ceiling. ¡°I have two children with me. One is a tall male in his mid-teens. Another is a young girl with a plain face. I found them where I found you. I presume you know who they are?¡± Raz and Mia! ¡°Yes! I-I think so!¡± Emil screamed, desperate. The knowledge that he might not be the only survivor gave him hope. ¡°Are they alive?!¡± ¡°For now.¡± The room suddenly shook. Emil leapt back in horror. Something massive slammed against the walls. ¡°If you want them to survive, then show me your worth,¡± the voice said, dripping with ominous intent. ¡°Worth? What do you mean?¡± Emil stammered. The walls shook again. He swore he heard a low growl on the other side. ¡°H-Hey!¡± Silence. Whoever spoke to him was no longer interested in responding. Crunch! The wall caved in. The wooden structure was torn apart. A hideous beast, towering over six feet tall on all fours, stomped into the room. Emil froze. His instincts screamed. The beast growled, grunting in a deep bellow. Its snout quivered. The pair of bloodshot eyes zeroed in on him, gleaming with desire. The beast suddenly charged. It rushed in on all fours as it threw itself at Emil. Its jaws opened, monstrous fangs bared, dripping with spittle. Emil watched as its shadow loomed close. Death beckoned. He dove to the left. The beast¡¯s front claws narrowly grazed the side of his legs, carving a long crimson line down along his shins. Emil clenched his teeth. The burning pain was agonizing. He glanced down¡ªblood cascaded down his leg as parts of his skin and flesh were ripped off by the scratch. There was nowhere to run. I have to kill it. Heat suddenly radiated from his chest. It was uncomfortable, like a sealed cauldron on the verge of boiling, begging to explode. The beast spun around, screeching in delight at the scent of blood. Emil felt the heat intensify. He grabbed his chest. The discomfort grew unbearable, his body temperature continued to rise as if responding to his violent thoughts. His fingers and legs began to convulse¡ªhis body rapidly descending out of his control. The beast lunged. ¡°Ahhhhh!¡± Emil screamed. Energy crackled in his vicinity. The air snapped with a distinctive pop, before everything suddenly flashed into a maelstrom of flames. Emil winced, curled up in panic¡ªmemories of the compound¡¯s destruction still fresh in his mind. It took the stench of burnt flesh for him to look up. The charred remains of the beast stood in front of him, a ghastly sight as its melting flesh peeled off its boned carcass. The entire room was set ablaze. Flames danced ravenously as it fed on the building material. The sight was heart-wrenchingly familiar. ¡°Well done. You might be of some use,¡± the woman¡¯s voice suddenly echoed once more. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Emil asked, confused by the vague words. Alarmed, he stared at his hands. Wisps of flames flickered in his palms. He pulled his hands back, startled. The flames, however, followed his movements. They felt hot, but not as scalding as expected. I did this? His healed leg. The patchwork of skin littered across his torso. The conversation he overheard between the two disembodied voices. ¡°N-No. Wait¡­¡± Scenes of the compound collapsing flashed in his head. His friends burned to ash. The Exalted squealed in delight at the destruction. He connected the dots. The realization sunk in. Emil screamed in horror, ¡°What have you done to me?!¡± He had become the monster that he feared. Chapter 6 - The Cleaner Nordica was one of the three major provinces in the Kingdom of Ardair. The northern half of the province was covered in treacherous mountains hiding rich mineral veins and troves of rare earth minerals. Its southern half was more tropical and diverse, blessed with meandering lakes, vibrant forests and arable flatlands suitable for farming. The capital city of Nordica, Dannan, was located at the frontier of these two halves. Unofficially, it was called the City of Metals due to its massive industrial district built on metallurgy and metalworking. It was estimated that over ninety percent of kingdom¡¯s metals and minerals pass through the city at some point during its circulation. Dannan was a city of two faces. Its upper district housed the royal family, along with a number of powerful noble houses and wealthy institutions. But its lower districts were sprawling with slums, mired in poverty and violent crimes. The ruling class had no interest in policing these areas. Thugs, criminals, and orphans proliferated these parts of the city¡ªall individuals who had no income and assets to tax, and therefore, devoid of value. With the absence of a police force to enforce the laws, the slums of Lower Dannan became the home of several powerful crime syndicates who ruled the area with an iron fist. For the longest time, they were allowed to do as they pleased. *** Ronny Ronny leaned back against his chair, indulging in the fragrant smell of aged scotch in his hands. His mind danced with a light buzz as he admired the view on his shelf. A vivid collection of skulls from various animals lined the rows, adorned in dazzling jewels and colorful paint. He grinned, basking in the drunken glow, satisfied¡ªuntil a slight itch in his nostrils knocked him out of his bliss. Irritated, Ronny opened the drawers and tossed a pouch of white powder onto his marble desk. Opium¡ªcultivated and produced on the ground floors of this facility that he operated on behalf of the Grenze syndicate. Just one whiff of this fine product would send him into an indulgent realm filled with the most wonderful fantasies. He opened the pouch with one hand, ready to go under¡ªwhen all hell broke loose. ¡°Boss!¡± The door to his office slammed open with such force that Ronny nearly fell off his chair. With as much dignity as he could muster, he composed himself and sat back upright, while trying to ignore the scotch dripping from his stained wool vest. ¡°What?¡± he snapped, not bothering to hide his anger. Normally, he would have already called for the head of the person who just barged in without warning¡ªif not for the fact this person was wearing the vest of his personal bodyguards. The guard who intruded had a boyish face at the frontier of adolescence and adulthood. A few nasty scars smeared along the curvature of his jaws, tainting his youthful face with a savage look. His eyes were large; their dark bluish hue gave off the impression of someone intelligent. His hair, jet-black and coarse, nearly dangled to his shoulders¡ªabnormally long for a man. Ronny narrowed his eyes, trying to fight off the effects of the alcohol. What was his name again? The guard was one of the newer recruits. Apparently, he made quite the impression during his evaluation. ¡°¡­Miles, was it? You better have a good reason for barging in unannounced.¡± ¡°Yes, Boss! The facility is currently under attack!¡± Fuck. Ronny shot up from his seat, kicking off the wool vest wet with scotch. Miles¡¯s words snapped him out of his stupor. Now that he was alert, he could hear the chaos rampaging outside the office. ¡°Who¡¯s attacking?!¡±Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Just one person. An Exalted,¡± Miles said, oddly calm, ¡°We think it might be a Cleaner.¡± Ronny froze. The mere mention of the word made his blood run cold. ¡°Y-You idiot! Shit! Why didn¡¯t you tell me sooner?!¡± His hands were trembling uncontrollably as he rushed out of the office in a panic. Why the hell is one of Steiger¡¯s hounds here?! Ronny mumbled obscenities as he tried to figure out the next course of action. He was at the basement level of his drug-manufacturing facility. As one of the executives of the Grenze syndicate, it was his job to oversee the syndicate¡¯s money-making operations. His focus was opium processing and distribution. This facility was one of the largest under his purview. If a Cleaner is here, then this place is as good as gone. The Cleaners were a special task force under Steiger¡¯s command, notorious amongst the syndicates for their brutality. Colloquially, they were called Steiger¡¯s hounds. Each one of them was apparently an Exalted. Ronny never encountered one himself, but he had no intention of discovering if the rumors were true. It¡¯s a shame that I¡¯ll lose three months of shipment, but¡ª he shook off his regrets. There was no amount of money in this world that can buy him a second chance at life. ¡°We¡¯re moving to the escape route!¡± he said to Miles as he ran down the corridor. The occasion echo of destruction thundered from the upper levels of the facility. Ronny winced with every cling and clank, imagining his precious facility get ripped apart into pieces. Steadily, the sounds grew louder. The Cleaner was getting close. ¡°Boss, you¡¯re here!¡± Footsteps rumbled from the other end of the corridor. There were three men, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Ronny recognized them as his other guards. ¡°What¡¯s the status on the Cleaner?¡± ¡°He¡¯s sweeping the entire upper levels. It won¡¯t be long before he finds this place.¡± ¡°Then let¡¯s go! We¡¯re escaping to the tunnels!¡± The opening to the escape hatch was just up ahead. Ronny had already mapped their route in his head. The hatch led to the underground sewers of Dannan. Its sprawling networks of tunnels and passages was as disorienting as a labyrinth. Someone who was unfamiliar with its layout would get lost immediately. I¡¯ll need to inform the other executives. Steiger is raiding our¡ª The ceiling above and in front of him suddenly caved in. Ronny felt a hand on his shoulders dragging him back¡ªjust as black tendrils descended from the opening. The shadowy projections snapped down like spikes, resounding with a powerful crunch as they stabbed into the floor of the basement. Immediately, the tendrils retracted. Ronny broke out in cold sweat. Massive, horrific claw marks were left on the floor layered in concrete. If his guards had pulled him back a second later, then he would have been eviscerated. Someone dropped from the ceiling. It was a man covered in an ebon cloak. His mouth was shrouded by a black cloth, weaved with the grotesque drawing of a hound¡¯s fangs. The Cleaner. His guards immediately went on the offensive. Knives and machetes were unsheathed. Without an ounce of hesitation, they lunged at their foe. ¡°Cleave.¡± Ronny¡¯s eyes went wide. Black tendrils ruptured from the Cleaner¡¯s shadow. Squelch! The speed was lightning fast. Ronny couldn¡¯t even follow the trajectory. It was only when he heard the horrific sound of flesh and bone being torn apart that he realized the attacks landed. He stared, mouth agape, dumbfounded. His guards had been bisected vertically by the shadowy claws. Blood exploded like a fountain as their bodies split into halves, collapsing into a grotesque puddle of entrails. M-Monster¡­ ¡°Boss, get back!¡± Miles was still beside him. The young man bravely stepped forward to face the Cleaner. Ronny fell on his knees in despair. W-What can you even do?! The bloodied remains of his guards painted a gruesome picture. In the face of the Cleaner¡¯s overwhelming Gift, the young man won¡¯t even be able to buy him time to escape. ¡°Such a heartwarming sight,¡± the Cleaner suddenly said, tearing off the cloth covering his mouth. The man had a plain appearance, sullied only by the playful smirk smeared across his face. Slowly, he approached, his footsteps echoed menacingly across the corridor. ¡°Ronny Kroller. An executive of the Grenze syndicate. Your offenses are almost too long to list. Violent crimes. Production of illegal substances. Distribution of illegal substances. But the most heinous of them all¡ª¡± the Cleaner giggled, ¡°¡ªTax evasion. That one is just unforgiveable, don¡¯t you think?¡± Ronny stood there, frozen. There was nothing for him to say. If the destruction of his facility wasn¡¯t enough, the Cleaner had taken off his mask, revealing his appearance. The Cleaners did all of Steiger¡¯s dirty work. As such, their identities were a closely guarded secret. He would not leave this place alive. ¡°Lower Dannan might become a better place freed of your existence,¡± the Cleaner said, ¡°So, convince me. Is there a reason why I should let you live?¡± H-He¡¯s giving me a chance? Ronny glanced up. His eyes brimmed with a desperate hope. ¡°I¡­I can¡ª¡± Something hot ruptured from his neck. Ronny felt the warm, sticky rain of blood splutter out of his body. He choked, gargling, suddenly unable to speak. Huh? The attack came not from the Cleaner in front of him, but to his left. Slowly, he turned. Miles was staring him down. In his right hand was a blood-stained knife. His deep blue eyes gleamed dispassionately¡ªcold as the abyss. Ronny¡¯s consciousness waned. I see. I got played. Chapter 7 - Wishes that should never be said Emil Ronny¡¯s greasy body flopped to the ground with a loud thud. Dead. The look of horror in his final moments suited him well. Emil tossed aside the blood-stained knife his hands. The warm, viscous sensation of the Grenze executive¡¯s blood on his fingers felt gross. He took a deep breath and brushed aside the irately long hair dangling across his face. Finally, this disgusting job was coming to an end. ¡°Hello, Emil.¡± The Cleaner greeted him with a large smile, his tone bright and cheery as if the two of them were meeting at a tavern for drinks. Instead, they were currently in the foul basement floors of a drug facility, surrounded by a sea of gore. ¡°Van,¡± Emil said, frowning at the Cleaner¡¯s attitude. The man in front of him was his senior in the Steiger organization. ¡°It¡¯s been three weeks. I¡¯m glad to see that you¡¯re well. However¡ª¡± Van¡¯s voice suddenly dropped. His nonchalance disappeared. His eyes gleamed with murderous pressure. ¡°¡ªwhy did you kill Ronny? I don¡¯t remember giving you the clearance.¡± In the corner of his eyes, Emil caught the top of the black tendrils writhing at the edge of Van¡¯s shadows. His Gift beckoned, eagerly awaiting as if it had a will of its own, threatening to shoot out at a moment''s notice. Emil clicked his tongue. What a farce. ¡°It¡¯s because you were taking too damn long.¡± ¡°¡­Huh?¡± ¡°If your objective was to kill him, then do it quickly, you sadistic freak,¡± Emil complained. Van narrowed his eyes. ¡°I never said anything about killing him. What if I needed to interrogate Ronny for information?¡± ¡°Then you would have started torturing him instead of playing with your food,¡± Emil spat, ¡°Stop fucking with me, Van. I know this is your idea of a stupid prank. I don¡¯t have the patience for this right now.¡± At his urging, the bloodlust in the air suddenly vanished. The tendrils poking out of Van¡¯s shadow disappeared. Realizing his ruse was exposed, Van inexplicably puffed out his face and stomped the floor cutely, pretending to throw a childish tantrum. ¡°But c¡¯mon, Emil! He was a villainous bastard! Don¡¯t you want to see his hideous, arrogant face all terrified, shaking, stuttering, and begging to live?! It¡¯s so amusing to hear the excuses they come up with!¡± Ugh. Emil grimaced, suddenly remembering how draining it was to deal with his senior. Van was a frivolous man with perverse tendencies. He was probably normal once, until his time with Steiger inevitably twisted him into the clown he was today. If the kingdom knew that Steiger employed fools like him, the entire organization would lose all of its mystique and infamy. Van burst into laughter. Emil¡¯s disgust must have been written across his face. ¡°Oh, how I missed your hilarious reactions, Emil,¡± he said as he wiped the joyous tears leaking from his eyes, ¡°Anyways, if you knew I was coming, why didn¡¯t you just kill him to begin with?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know it was you,¡± Emil sighed, ¡°The witch didn¡¯t tell me anything. I had no idea that there was even supposed to be a raid today. I held back in case she wanted Ronny alive.¡± ¡°Fair enough.¡± Van nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Good work. You made it easy for me to find you by emitting mana.¡± Emil shrugged him off. ¡°It¡¯s standard procedure. You don¡¯t need to praise me for it.¡± ¡°Wow, how cool.¡± Emil rolled his eyes. ¡°If that¡¯s all, then I¡¯m leaving.¡± Van¡¯s silence gave him the clearance to leave. Emil immediately turned around and made his way towards the staircase leading to the facility¡¯s ground level. He had been stuck in this place for the past three weeks, masquerading as Ronny¡¯s body guard. The horrific things that he had to overlook and endure to maintain his cover nearly drove him insane. He was sick of it. He just wanted to go home. *** Mia Mia glanced at the clock. One hour past midnight. The tavern had already emptied itself¡ªeven the last of its unruly patrons had stumbled home in their drunken stupor.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. She sat down by the countertop, alone, soaking in the somber candlelight. And waited. The rhythmic sway of the pendulum clock quietly ticked away in the background. After the silence grew unbearable, she let out a disappointed sigh. Guess he¡¯s not coming home today either. Mia stood up and walked towards the pile of dirty bowls and cups hidden beneath the countertop. She needed something to distract herself. Something to occupy her hands. Something to pry her mind away from the resurging memories of that terrible day. Four years had passed since the incident that took away the lives of all their friends at the compound. Mia was fifteen now. Her hair grew long. Her body matured. The boyish looks that she was insecure about vanished as she blossomed into a respectable young lady. But her time remained still¡ªtrapped in the gruesome tragedy. Why? She couldn¡¯t understand it. Why did they get caught up by that Exalted¡¯s rampage? Why was her home destroyed? Why did her friends meet such a disturbing end? Did they do something wrong? Was that an act of divine punishment? Emil told her over and over again that it was all just bad timing. A coincidence, borne from a random series of unfortunate events. Mia couldn¡¯t accept that. It felt too cruel, too indifferent, too cold. There had to be a reason. There had to be someone to blame. There had to be. Clink! Her eyes grew wide, horrified. The glass plate that she was cleaning suddenly had a long crack running down the middle. Most of the tableware used in this tavern were made from wood or clay. The few glassware available were reserved for serving guests of high status. Glassware was absurdly expensive, but infinitely more brittle and fragile. In the midst of her thoughts, Mia lost track of what she was cleaning. Dammit, the owner is going to chew me out for this. She groaned, dreading the inevitable conversation. The tavern door suddenly crept out. ¡°Sorry, we¡¯re close¡ª¡± She froze. The rest of the words remained on her tongue unspoken. She stared blankly at the visitor. Jet black hair, long enough to his shoulders. A boyish face with glimpses of scars lined across his jaws. Dark bags crowded beneath his large eyes¡ªdeep in opulent blue as he stared at her sheepishly. The next thing she knew she was in his arms. Mia dove into his chest. The warm feeling of his body was blissfully comfortable. Familiar. ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± she finally said. ¡°Sorry, Mia,¡± Emil replied. His gentle voice danced in her ears. ¡°I¡¯m home.¡± *** After a few minutes of embracing in silence, Mia finally let him go. Emil took a seat by the countertop. Mia brought him a cup and fetched one of the unopened bottles on display. Unprompted, she poured him a drink. As the barmaid, she was no stranger to the detriments of alcohol. Yet even so, sometimes a bit of poison healed more than any remedy. Emil drank slowly, letting the bitter taste quench his throat. Mia watched him with a faint smile. He had grown noticeably thinner since he left for his assignment three weeks ago. She reached out to grab the coarse strands of hair dangling to his shoulders. I should give him a haircut. And feed him well. He eventually set the cup down. A pensive look drawn on his face. ¡°How¡¯s Raz?¡± he finally asked. Mia flinched. The candlelight flickered hesitantly. Couldn¡¯t this have waited till tomorrow? She didn¡¯t want him to ask about Raz. Not yet at least. He just got home. It was already late into the night. Emil, however, didn¡¯t seem content to wait. After a brief silence, she gave in, gathering the courage to respond, ¡°He¡¯s not great.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes grew wide. Mia felt her chest was going to explode. ¡°Show me.¡± Reluctantly, she led Emil to the second floor of the tavern. There were three rooms at the end of the hallway that the owner had set aside for them as part of their contract. Mia opened the farthest door to the right. She was immediately assaulted by the faint, astringent smell of antiseptics and smoky incense. She placed down a candlewick by the entrance. At the back of the room was a tall man lying prone on a bed. Raz. He was covered in bandages from head to toe. The exposed areas of his body were mired in patches of red. He was still, almost unmoving. It wouldn¡¯t have been unreasonable to think he was dead, if not for the occasional rise and dip of his chest. They were staring at the only other survivor of that terrible tragedy. ¡°¡­He¡¯s spending more time unconscious these days. And when he¡¯s awake, he¡¯s rarely lucid,¡± Mia explained as tears gathered in her eyes, ¡°He keeps screaming. I think he¡¯s reliving what happened on that day.¡± Emil shook his head. ¡°I thought the medicine was supposed to help with that.¡± ¡°We¡¯re running low. I¡¯ve been rationing the dosage¡ª¡± ¡°Mia!¡± he suddenly shouted. His eyes were frantic, spittle flying in the air as he continued to yell, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me earlier? I would have gotten more!¡± Stop. ¡°¡­How am I supposed to do that?¡± Her lips quivered. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Please don¡¯t speak anymore. ¡°You¡¯re not home.¡± He doesn¡¯t need to hear this! ¡°And I never know when you¡¯ll be back¡­¡± She immediately regretted saying those words as soon as she saw Emil¡¯s face twist in horror. His eyes went wide. His jaws dropped as if he couldn¡¯t believe what he had just done. The apologies came next. Mia closed her eyes. She knew that Emil didn¡¯t mean it. He had just returned from his assignment. He was exhausted. Emotions were high. The three of them were the sole survivors of that tragedy. And because they were orphans, they only had each other to rely on. Losing Raz meant losing one of their last family members. She knew that Emil was trying his best to give the two of them a better life. She didn¡¯t understand the full extent of his job¡ªonly that he looked increasingly tortured each time he returned from an assignment. Whatever he was doing ate him alive. And he only endured because of her and Raz. Mia glared at Raz¡¯s sleeping body. Her heart shrieked with guilt at the nasty thoughts spiraling in her head. Words that she would never dare to speak aloud. I know it¡¯s wrong of me to think this way. She recalled the fond memories that the three of them shared in the past¡ªlaughing, telling stories, eating food before drifting asleep in each other¡¯s warmth. But sometimes I really wished¡ª Over time, those warm memories were slowly replaced by the cold, lonely nights of changing Raz¡¯s bandages, cleaning him from his own excrement, and sobbing to herself by his beside. The endearing feelings that she held towards him quietly changed to bitter resentment. ¨Cyou didn¡¯t survive that day. Chapter 8 - This bountiful opportunity Hortensia A single candle illuminated the modest office. Hortensia leaned back against her chair, soaking in the umbral night. It was quiet. The night breeze from the tiny slit in her window brushed the back of her neck. Chilly. She inhaled, taking a whiff of the cigar in her hand. The foul scent gave her clarity and a strange wave of relief. She glanced down, finally feeling ready to tackle the mountain of papers stacked on her desk. When she accepted this job as the Director of Steiger, she thought she would continue to spend most of her time out in the field¡ªsolving Exalted related crimes, hunting down Desperados, and investigating corruption amongst Ardair¡¯s ruling class. Instead, her days were mostly trapped in this office, sifting through the endless amount of paperwork. Strategies and operations¡ªthat¡¯s what her predecessor called it. Her job was not to be the hound, but to be the one leading the hounds. Feeding them, training them, and assigning them targets to hunt. Hortensia thought she was ill-suited for this sort of work, but her predecessor apparently judged otherwise. Evidently, they were onto something as Steiger continued to run smoothly under her command. Lately, however, things were spiraling out of control. Hortensia narrowed her eyes on the report in front of her. The header was marked in red¡ªan indication that this one demanded her full attention. Emergency Missive ¨C Immediate Action Required A shipment of Azurite designated for House Belle was ambushed last night at two hours after midnight. The rough location of the attack is north of the Lower Dannan outskirts, near the forested path. The shipment was taking the usual route for Azurite deliveries to the Rosales province. All assigned delivery staff were killed, including the two Steiger agents assigned for escort. Notable suspects include a Desperado wielding an eastern style blade. They were accompanied by a battalion-sized militia. Identity of the militia is unconfirmed, but suspected to be one of the three large syndicates in Lower Dannan. The stolen Azurite cache is also likely to be in their possession. The missive ended abruptly with the insignia of the royal family stamped at the bottom. ¡°¡­They killed two of my men,¡± Hortensia sighed, lamenting the loss. Finding personnel was a never-ending struggle. Exalted were in high demand and she was constantly competing against noble families and wealthy institutions for a small pool of candidates. Since Steiger dealt with Exalted related crimes and investigating corruption, Hortensia found herself in a never-ending arms race against the ruling class for Exalted talent. This isn¡¯t just something I can put off. The matter of a stolen Azurite cache was a national security risk. The royal family would be watching this incident closely. Hortensia massaged her temples, feeling the onset of a headache. She stared at her records detailing the roster of agents she currently had on stand by. Two names stood out. ¡°He¡¯s going to hate me for this.¡± Her mouth curved into an uneasy smile. *** Emil The cold touch of iron brushed against the side of his head. Emil ignored it¡ªhis attention drawn to the mechanical alarm clock in his hands. Broken. The arms of the clock had stopped ticking. Curious, he pried open the back and examined the tiny nocks and crannies of the device. The spring coil must be broken. He had a habit of tinkering and trying to fix the various broken tools and objects littered around the tavern. It kept his hands busy and his restless mind occupied. A tendency from his time at the compound. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed his face. ¡°Hey, stay still!¡± Emil obliged. Snip! A bundle of his jet-black hair fell onto his shoulders, brushing lightly against his neck. After the cut was done, Emil looked back down¡ªuntil he was interrupted once more. ¡°Can. This. Wait?¡± Mia asked, visibly irate, her eyes furrowed with a dangerous glint. In her right was a pair of scissors. In her left was his chin, forcing him to look up. Emil cautiously eyed the scissors in his periphery. The iron blades were strikingly sharp, not dissimilar to the knives that he would wield on the job. ¡°Sorry.¡± He obediently placed the clock down by the window sill. Dim morning light leaked through the glass. A cloudy day. ¡°I¡¯m trying to give you a haircut, Emil.¡± Snip! ¡°I don¡¯t think you realize how ridiculous you look!¡± Snip! ¡°Thanks,¡± Emil smiled uneasily. He agreed¡ªhe did look like an unsavory character. It was an intentional part of his disguise that enabled him to infiltrate the Grenze syndicate. Now that the job was over, however, it became a burden to maintain. ¡°I just wanted to fix things around the tavern before the witch drags me back.¡± ¡°I thought you had at least two weeks off. That was the standard, no?¡± That was before things got hectic. ¡°Yeah, but the witch has a fetish for breaking promises. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she¡ª¡± Thud! He spun towards the unusual sound. There was a pigeon perched outside their window. Suddenly, it began pecking at the glass. Emil noticed the small bundle of parchment attached to its legs. You¡¯ve got to be joking. *** It wasn¡¯t a joke. It was a summon from the damn witch. Emil stomped out of the tavern, furious. His boots grinded against the coarse metallic flakes littered on the ground. The tavern where Mia and him stayed was located on the outskirts of Lower Dannan¡¯s infamous industrial district. Dawn barely broke¡ªthe sun just managing to peek over the dense clouds. Despite that, he could already hear the distinct clank of hammers striking against anvil reverberating in the background. Smoke boomed from the buildings in the vicinity, emitting noxious fumes from the bellowing blast furnaces. Horses trotted across the roads, pulling wagons filled with metal ores. Emil winced as they passed by. The foul, sour stench of sulfur carried by the wagons prickled his nose and made his eyes water. He detested the odor, but being near the industrial district made it impossible to evade the smell. Mia was somehow fine with it, and so he endured.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He eventually found himself beneath a massive escarpment. The steep cliffside was overshadowed by a colossal clocktower built near the precipice. It stretched to the skies, serving as a universal indicator of time for all residents of Dannan. Imagine if something this big suddenly collapsed, he sneered at the morbid thought before approaching the base of the escarpment. There was a series of mechanical elevators manned by the royal army. ¡°Your verification,¡± demanded one of the gruff guards, dressed in uniforms colored in imperial red, and armed with an impressive spear. The elevators led to Upper Dannan where the wealthy elites resided. For lowborn individuals like himself, special permissions were required to gain access. Emil presented the papers given to him by the witch. According to the documents, he was an inspector at the royal bank in charge of ensuring the workshops in Lower Dannan could pay off their debts. A distasteful cover story. ¡°Alright, go ahead.¡± The guards opened the path. Emil stepped into the metal shaft and onto the wooden platform, grabbing onto the guard rails on the perimeter. He was in a small enclosure that was connected to the top of the escarpment by a series of ropes and gears. The guards gave a signal, and the elevator began to climb. Emil took in the view as he ascended, listening to the loud hums and creaks of the gears spinning. Beneath him, plumes of black fumes suffused the air, shrouding the buildings of the industrial district in an ashen veil. Beyond the industrial district in the north were the massive sprawl of slums. Surrounding the zone of Lower Dannan were two strips of concave land that sloped upwards towards Upper Dannan. They were roads, heavily guarded and monitored, meant to be used only for ferrying goods and raw materials between the two sectors. To an outsider, the scene before him might have left an enthralling impression. Emil, however, had long grown wary of this sight. Still, he had to remind himself not to take this privilege for granted. Because for most residents of Lower Dannan, this view was a marvel that they¡¯ll never get to witness. *** Contrasting the dirty and dissonant environment of Lower Dannan, Upper Dannan was like a tranquil garden. Upon stepping off the elevator, Emil was immediately greeted by vivid greenery and the pristine glow of marble stone. The whitish rock was used everywhere¡ªin the walls of buildings, within the various sculptures on every corner, and on the terraces overseeing the streets. Even beneath the overcast skies, the marble stone sparkled, adorning Upper Dannan in a radiant gleam. It was quiet. Almost uncomfortably so. The absence of the blast furnace¡¯s rumbles and the clash of metals in the background was strangely unnerving. Emil walked away from the elevator, careful not to gawk at the nauseating display of wealth around him. Aqueducts crowded the airspace above the well-maintained paths, delivering water to the myriads of plants and flowers out in full blooms on the side of the streets. Vines latched onto the sides of trees and walls¡ªalmost acting like a bridge between the various hanging gardens in the vicinity. It was a spectacular view, but Emil found it difficult to be impressed. When he considered about how much money must be used daily to maintain these opulent sights, he couldn¡¯t help but feel bitter. Eventually, he arrived at his destination. It was a building with a plaque mounted above its wooden doors, engraved with the words, ¡°Royal Bank of Ardair.¡± The royal bank was a striking sight¡ªnot because it overtook its neighboring buildings in opulence and beauty. Rather, it was astonishingly bland. Its walls were plain, absent of the vivid plant life that decorated the rest of Upper Dannan, and instead composed of a monotonous glob of gray, discolored cobblestone. The royal bank was absurdly dull and sterile compared to the verdant splendor of its surroundings. Just looking at it made Emil¡¯s insides churn. I really don¡¯t want to be here. *** ¡°Good morning, how can I help you?¡± the teller at the wooden booth asked. Emil slid a token across the table. It was a brass coin inscribed with the fangs of a hound. ¡°I¡¯m here to see the Madame.¡± Codeword for a scheduled meeting with the witch. The teller shot him a brief glance and examined the token. After a few minutes of scrutiny, she stood up. ¡°Right this way, sir,¡± the teller said, beckoning for him to follow. Discretely, she led him to a stairway hidden in the corridors behind the bank counter. This branch of the royal bank was a front for one of Steiger¡¯s head offices. The organization was an anti-corruption force specializing in Exalted affairs under the direct mandate of the royal family. It was currently led by the despicable witch. Emil climbed the stairs¡ªeach step he took stirred the raging inferno in his guts. Dread gnawed the back of his head. For him, the witch was a harbinger of despair. Each time they met, he was forced to split from Mia, and ordered to do vile, contemptible things. ¡°Here, Director Hortensia¡¯s been expecting you,¡± the teller said as they reached the top of stairs. Emil stood there, staring at the large doors in front of him. The corridor seemed to spin. This isn¡¯t about you. His hands balled into fists, shaking. It¡¯s for Mia and Raz. He didn¡¯t want to admit it, but the witch¡¯s jobs were the only things keeping them off the streets. It kept Raz alive from his deteriorating condition and it kept Mia away from whoring herself out in the brothels. If it meant dirtying his hands, then so be it. ¡°Come in already,¡± a voice echoed from inside. Emil¡¯s hands instantly moved towards the knob as if compelled by instinct. Before he knew it, he had stepped into his least favorite place in the world. Immediately, he was assaulted by the nauseating tang of tobacco. The heavy stench hung in the air, clinging onto the smoky vapors permeating the room. Emil scrunched up his face, making no effort to hide his disgust. As usual, the witch was sitting at her desk. She had a cigar in one hand, her chin rested on the other, leaning slightly to the side. A sinister grin smeared across her face. Emil might have found her enchanting¡ªif he wasn¡¯t so familiar with her disturbing character. ¡°A monster in human skin¡± was an apt description for her kind. ¡°Hello, Emil.¡± Her deep, sultry voice reverberated across the smoky room. Emil didn¡¯t bother responding back. She continued, unfazed by his belligerence, ¡°I read through the reports on your infiltration of Grenze. Nicely done. Your track record remains pristine.¡± Emil¡¯s hands twitched. ¡°¡­Get to the point already,¡± he snarled, ¡°I doubt you called me here just for flattery.¡± The witch grinned, taking a slow, deliberate whiff of her cigar. Emil narrowed his eyes, glaring as she indulged in the disgusting fumes. It was her way of mocking his impatience. ¡°Youngsters have no taste for small talk these days. Fine,¡± she said, leaning forward, suddenly serious, ¡°It¡¯s a matter concerning national security. A cache of Azurite intended for House Belle was stolen last night.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. He instinctively reached for the thin necklace dangling around his neck. At the end of the accessory was a small gem bathed in a deep vivid blue. Azurite. It was a special stone capable of storing mana in high concentrations. Mana, and by extension, Azurite, was what gave Exalted access to their otherworldly abilities¡ªtheir Gifts. Without it, the Exalted were the same as regular Ordinaries. ¡°I thought the deliveries were supposed to be heavily guarded. How did an entire cache get stolen?¡± he asked. The incident was unprecedented. ¡°A Desperado of unknown origins was spotted at the site.¡± A Desperado was an Exalted outlaw. ¡°The entire delivery team, including two of our own agents, were all killed,¡± the witch explained, ¡°Our goal is to recover the Azurite cache as soon as possible before we have an entire syndicate of Desperados running around. We currently suspect the cache to be under possession by one of three major syndicates in Lower Dannan.¡± Emil felt his stomach churn. ¡°¡­And you want me to recover it?¡± The witch tilted her head, pretending to be oblivious. ¡°You don¡¯t want to?¡± He clenched his teeth. She knew exactly how much he detested going undercover. The syndicates weren¡¯t exactly a bastion of high morality. The disgusting things that he had to overlook to complete his missions gave him nightmares. He just returned from hell. He wasn¡¯t going to step into it again so soon. The witch smirked as if reading his thoughts. ¡°You, of all people, should understand the dangers of Azurite falling into the wrong hands.¡± Her voice danced with a threatening tone. ¡°The tragedy that occurred four years ago was at the hands of a Desperado after all.¡± Emil¡¯s mind trembled. That dreadful day filled with flames and despair flashed in his head. He clawed at his throat, suddenly feeling it difficult to breathe. ¡°It was a Desperado that destroyed your home¡­¡± The witch¡¯s words coiled around his neck, intent to squeeze out every drop of air. ¡°¡­killed your friends¡­¡± Stop it. ¡°¡­and defiled your body¡ª¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Emil screamed. His body was shivering. His dry heaves echoed loudly in his ears. His chest felt like it was going to explode. ¡°You think you can manipulate me into accepting?!¡± He swiped the air, furious yet scared. A part of him wanted to stomp over and bash the witch¡¯s face in. But he knew better. Her position as the director of Steiger wasn¡¯t just lip service¡ªshe could crumble him in an instant if she desired. Noting his indignation, the witch fetched something behind her desk. She tossed it onto the table nonchalantly. It was a leather pouch filled with coins. ¡°Your usual pay. Doubled.¡± Emil stared at the bag in disbelief¡ªwavering. He hated that he could be swayed by money. No, I refuse to go through that again¡ª The witch suddenly added another bag to the side. ¡°I heard your bedridden friend is having troubles recently. Tell me, would any of this help?¡± He was dumbfounded. The second bag contained a stash of medicine and herbs that could be used to help Raz recover. I haven¡¯t been able to find any of this on the market. How did she¡ªThe realization sunk in. The witch prepared this carrot in advance. She was monitoring Mia and Raz. She knew of his predicament. ¡°Now you have a choice,¡± the witch said, rising to her feet, ¡°Refuse this irresistible offer to keep your pride and accept that your bedridden friend¡¯s death was on your hands. Or¡ª¡± Hortensia¡¯s eyes gleamed like a snake¡¯s. Emil stood there, paralyzed¡ªshaking with resentment. ¡°¡ªBeg me for this bountiful opportunity.¡± Chapter 9 - Nostra Emil A low baritone ring blared in the distance. Coming from the clocktower overseeing Lower Dannan, it signaled the passing of another hour. Emil slumped in his seat. There were still two hours until noon, but the meeting with the witch had already drained him of all his energy. It was same as always. Whenever he pushed back against his assignments, she would press him on his guilt, trample over his emotions, and bring up events that he wanted to forget. At least I managed to squeeze more money out of her pockets. Mia won¡¯t be happy that he has to leave for another mission so soon, but what can they do? They needed Steiger¡¯s payments to afford rent. Raz¡¯s medicine was also becoming more expensive. Prices for everything had gone up after an abnormally weak harvest season. He let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to go home. His time with Mia and Raz was already being cut short and he didn¡¯t want to waste another second. Where the hell is this damn bastard? ¡°Yo, Emil!¡± And speak of the devil. Emil winced, hating how he immediately recognized that frivolous tone. He rolled his eyes as his accomplice for the assignment strutted to a seat across from him. They were inside one of the private rooms of a tavern located in Upper Dannan. Like all establishments in the upper district, this place was filled with well-furnished luxuries. Emil thought it was excessive for a tavern, but at least the aged wood used on the walls and the dim candle lights gave off a tavern¡¯s typical clandestine vibe. This particular establishment was secretly owned by Steiger and often used as a safe place for conducting meetings between agents. ¡°You look very excited to see me,¡± his accomplice said with a wicked grin. Emil fought the urge to bash him in the face. Unlike the witch, he had some winning chances against this guy. It was Van. ¡°¡­Why does Hortensia always put us together?¡± Emil complained. Van immediately began filling his glass with beer. ¡°Don¡¯t you know? Our pairing has the best track record in the organization. It¡¯s only logical to use your best one-two punch for a mission with national security at risk.¡± Emil narrowed his eyes. Van might have a point¡ªif he wasn¡¯t stretching the truth. ¡°I, have the best track record in the organization,¡± he clarified, pointing at Van, ¡°You, are just piggybacking off of it.¡± Suddenly, a glass of beer was slotted into his outstretched hands. ¡°Cheers!¡± Van exclaimed, clinking their glasses together. Emil grimaced, the bitter stench of alcohol irritating his nose. ¡°¡­Do I have to?¡± Van was somehow already half-way done his glass. ¡°Of course! Who the hell goes to a tavern and not get sloshed?!¡± he yelled, slamming the table. He gave up. Once Van was in his element, there was no stopping his momentum. Emil drank, reveling in the bitterness of his situation. He was four glasses in when the headaches began to kick in. Wincing, he reached for the plate of cakes that he ordered for himself. ¡°Alright! Time to begin the meeting!¡± Van announced as he snatched the plate of cakes out of Emil¡¯s grasp, ¡°A quick quiz! For every wrong answer, I will steal a cake away for myself!¡± You fucking bastard. He wanted to throw Van onto the ground, but his head was beginning to spin. Van¡¯s loud cheery voice boomed in his ears. In his inebriated state, it sounded even more grating than usual. ¡°First! Why is this mission so important?¡± ¡°An entire cache of Azurite is missing. It¡¯s a stone that¡¯s highly in demand since it unlocks an Exalted¡¯s Gifts,¡± Emil said, clenching his teeth in anger. He couldn¡¯t believe his cakes were being held hostage. ¡°And why is that a problem?¡± Van continued. Emil rolled his eyes. ¡°¡­A single Exalted by themselves could cause widespread destruction, so the distribution of Azurite is tightly regulated to make sure it doesn¡¯t fall into wrong hands. The royal family owns the distribution rights and it leverages that power to maintain their authority.¡± ¡°Ding ding ding! Stolen Azurite is not only dangerous, but it also undermines the royal family¡¯s power,¡± Van added before taking a bite of the sausage on his plate. The loud, disgusting sounds of his mouth chewing was disturbing to listen to. ¡°Alright, last question! Where do we think the stolen cache was taken?¡± ¡°Somewhere in Lower Dannan, likely in possession from one of the three major syndicates¡ªGrenze, Nostra, and Aois Nua. Only they have the personnel and space to keep something that valuable hidden,¡± Emil answered. ¡°Very good! You passed!¡± Van exclaimed, offering the plate of cakes that he held hostage. Emil immediately swiped it from Van¡¯s hands and devoured one of the pieces. The sweet, creamy texture of the pastry melted in his mouth. He leaned back, indulging in this fleeting moment of bliss. ¡°Out of the three syndicates, we can probably eliminate Grenze as a possibility,¡± Van said, suddenly serious. ¡°Why? Because I was stationed there?¡± ¡°Yes, the timing of the stolen Azurite overlapped with your undercover mission in Grenze. And Ronny, as an executive of the syndicate, would definitely have been involved if Grenze had planned the raid. As his personal body guard, there¡¯s a fairly low chance that you could have missed this detail.¡± Emil tapped his inebriated head, trying to recall anything that he might have overlooked during his three weeks in the syndicate. Blank. Nothing to came to mind. ¡°That just leaves Nostra and Aois Nua. And lately, both syndicates have started recruiting aggressively. This suggests that something big is brewing. Which then begs the question,¡± Van said, smirking as he pointed a finger at Emil, ¡°Two syndicates. Two of us. Which one do you want?¡± *** Emil ended up with Nostra. Not that it particularly mattered¡ªthe three major syndicates all had their hands in the same trades of drugs, prostitution, and violence for hire. The only difference was the territories that they occupied in Lower Dannan. Nostra conducted its operations in the northeastern quadrant of the slums. Its turf was the closest to the industrial district, giving it access to plenty of business from the laborers after a long day¡¯s work. With that in mind, Emil entered the slum¡¯s eastern sector in the evening. He walked with a slight hunchback reminiscent of the exhausted workers, while dressed in a pair of oily overalls atop of a stained shirt tarnished by soot. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing patches of discolored skin. They were old burns caused by his Gift, but they worked well with his disguise as an apprentice blacksmith. His destination was a dilapidated building by the area between the slums and the workshops of the industrial district.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Emil pushed open the crumbling doors at the entrance. Right away, he was assaulted by a wave of miasma. The thick stench of alcohol and rot permeated the air. The floor beneath his soles was littered in trash, and wet with something unidentifiable. Given the rancid smell, Emil guessed it was a hearty mixture of beer and piss. Guess I¡¯ll have to burn these boots later. He walked in, not bothering to hide his disgust. The wooden floors creaked and groaned with each step. Van called this place a watering hole¡ªsuffice to say, Emil wasn¡¯t amused. It was fairly late into the night at this point, and the watering hole was sparsely occupied. Still, the few patrons in the building eyed him with burning stares as he took a seat by the dimly lit counter. They¡¯re unusually open about their hostility. This is probably the correct place. The barkeep arrived a few minutes later. It was a lanky man with a flashy haircut¡ªhalf of his head was shaved clean, while the other half was long enough to reach his back. His face was covered in scars and warpaint. The barkeep immediately leaned uncomfortably close to Emil¡¯s face. Unfazed, Emil watched as the barkeep¡¯s eyes darted about, as if scrutinizing every detail of his appearance. When he was finally satisfied, the barkeep retreated, putting on a flippant smile. ¡°You¡¯re new here, aren¡¯t youuuuu?¡± he said with a flamboyant tone, deliberately stretching out his words with a pompous inflection, ¡°Do you have any idea where you are?¡± Emil narrowed his eyes, pretending to be annoyed at barkeep¡¯s pretentious attitude. ¡°A fucking shithole. This place sells booze, does it not?¡± he said, choosing his words carefully as he pushed a copper coin across the table. ¡°It sure does,¡± the barkeep said as he poured ale into a wooden cup. He pushed the cup towards Emil with his slim fingers. ¡°But I think beer isn¡¯t the only reason why you¡¯re here.¡± He¡¯s sharp. Emil took a whiff of the cup¡¯s contents. The caustic stank of malted alcohol burned his nostrils. Normal. The foam bubbling on the surface was promising enough. He took a cautious sip, trusting in his Steiger training to keep him alive from any poisons. ¡°Thoughts?¡± ¡°Worse than piss,¡± Emil said, scowling. The laborers of the industrial district were infamous for their gruff and vulgar attitudes¡ªa symptom of the backbreaking work, long hours, and dangers of constantly being near molten flames. Emil hoped that his portrayal was convincing enough to not draw any suspicions. ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment,¡± the barkeep said, ¡°So? Enlighten me. What¡¯s your deal?¡± A dangerous gleam flickered his eyes. Emil sensed the patrons at the back of the watering hole stir. A faint murderous pressure was directed at his back. ¡°¡­I need cash. Quick,¡± he said as he set the cup down, ¡°I heard this place was hiring.¡± ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. Don¡¯t you see this shabby building? I can barely afford to keep it from collapsing.¡± ¡°Not this shithole,¡± Emil clarified, ¡°Your¡­owners. The people behind you. I heard they¡¯re looking for men.¡± The barkeep immediately narrowed his eyes. ¡°You know of us?¡± Was that too direct? Emil took another sip of the disgusting ale, trying to hide his slipping composure. ¡°I do.¡± The barkeep¡¯s face crept to a nasty sneer. ¡°Then it depends,¡± he said. The floor suddenly creaked. ¡°What can you offer?¡± Emil immediately threw his head back. A knife¡¯s glint flashed above his eyes, slashing the air where his neck had just been. He pushed off the stool to face his assailant. The knife came again. Slow. He lunged forward, grappling his assailant¡¯s arm before the blade could arrive. Without mercy, he pulled. ¡°Ngh!¡± his assailant screamed as a nasty pop echoed in the air. Two more men rushed forward at the sight of their companion struggling. Emil threw his first assailant to the floor. He stepped back and reached for his cup on the counter. One of the men charged at him with a machete in hand. Emil flicked his wrist. Beer shot out of the cup and splashed in the man¡¯s eyes. Unable to see, the man stumbled forward yelling. Emil raised his foot and stomped on the man¡¯s knees. He felt a slight resistance until he heard the grotesque crunch of bone being snapped. The last man froze after seeing his two companions fall. Emil lunged at his hesitation. He cocked his arm back and delivered a heavy punch to the man¡¯s jaws. The blow sent him reeling to the floor¡ªinstantly unconscious. The fight was over in less than a minute. Emil stared at the wreckage, admiring his own work. He deliberately stuck to hand-to-hand combat. Revealing himself as an Exalted would immediately destroy his cover. He heard the barkeep whistle in admiration. Without a word, the barkeep walked to the side of the counter and reached for a wooden tube hidden below. ¡°Baer, there¡¯s a candidate I like you to meet. He just destroyed three of your men without breaking a sweat,¡± the barkeep said. Emil realized he was talking into a voice pipe. *** There was a hidden door on the other side of the counter that led to the basement of the watering hole. Emil climbed down the winding stairway, strong with a dank earthly smell. Eventually he reached the bottom, finding himself face-to-face with a wooden door that was slightly ajar. Over the years, he made an interesting observation. The elites of the ruling class seemed to love residing on the highest levels of their estate, while the important members of the syndicates preferred to scurry along in the lowest floors instead. If that pattern holds, then whoever¡¯s in here must be a bigshot. He entered the dimly lit room. The miasma of beer and piss on the ground level disappeared, replaced by a fragrant earthy scent. Scotch? It was the same smell that permeated Ronny¡¯s office during his time in Grenze. But instead of Ronny, Emil was greeted by a tall, brawny man. A fur coat adorned his shoulders, draped over his bare chest. In the room with him were a group of his henchmen. Each of them had a black mask painted with large gnashing teeth covering the lower half of their face. A pair of machetes was latched onto the straps on their hips. ¡°Baer,¡± the brawny man introduced himself as he approached with a wicked smile and an outstretched hand. Emil received it. Immediately, he could feel Baer squeezing down on his hands. ¡°Miles,¡± Emil gave his alias while also tightening his grip. ¡°Caiside spoke highly of you. I see that he had a point.¡± Baer smirked as he loosened his grip. Caiside? Is that the name of the barkeep? ¡°So Miles, do you know who we are?¡± ¡°You¡¯re Nostra. One of the three big syndicates.¡± ¡°And how did you know to find this place?¡± Baer asked, feigning nonchalance. He¡¯s testing me. ¡°Rumors. I used to be a resident of the slums. I got out. But I kept contact with a few people still living here,¡± Emil answered. Nothing he said was a lie. ¡°And yet, here you are. Back in the doghouse again. Why?¡± ¡°Money,¡± he said without hesitation, ¡°I have debts to pay. Family members to feed. The jobs of the industrial district don¡¯t pay enough.¡± He let his voice quiver with desperation. The syndicates tend to lower their guards once they have something that they could control you with. Now they know he was desperate for cash. ¡°It¡¯s true. Life is getting tougher around here thanks to the poor harvest. You have my complete sympathy,¡± Baer said. Suddenly, his demeanor changed. His eyes went wild, sharpened with a savage glint. ¡°But why should I trust you?¡± he hissed, ¡°You¡¯re just a random dude who showed up out of nowhere and thrashed three of our guys.¡± Baer snapped his fingers. His henchmen instantly spurred into action. Startled, Emil immediately fell into a fighting stance. Instead of a battle, however, he found a small wooden table with a string and a machete placed before him. ¡°¡­What is this?¡± he asked, not daring to drop his guard. ¡°Show me your conviction,¡± Baer said, beckoning at his left pinky finger with a cutting motion, ¡°Show me that I can trust you.¡± Emil stared at the machete in disbelief. He wants me to cut it off? ¡°¡­You¡¯re serious?¡± He narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling the sweat on his neck. Baer flashed him a wicked sneer. ¡°Very.¡± Fuck. All eyes in the room were on him. Emil could feel their taunting gazes and the nasty smiles hidden beneath their masks. Damn sadists. Grenze never had this sort of insane initiation ritual, so why the hell was Nostra like this? Emil clenched his teeth, cursing his own ignorance. Not wanting to feign weakness, he slowly tied the string around his left pinky until it was taut and etched sharply into his skin. His finger was already growing numb. I can still escape. He could easily fight his way out of here. If it got too precarious, he always had his Gift if absolutely necessary. His mission, however, would be instantly forfeit. The witch¡¯s words echoed in his head. ¡°¡­Know that your bedridden friend¡¯s death was on your hands.¡± Raz¡¯s medicine was on the line. If he failed here, he would not get a second chance. Emil grabbed the machete. The weight of the cleaver felt strangely light in his hands. It¡¯s just a finger. It¡¯s not like he was cutting off his entire hand. He would still be able to use his left. It wouldn¡¯t be debilitating¡ªin fact, he doubted it would even affect him. He raised the machete. He squeezed tight against the handle. His right hand was shaking, drenched in sweat. He swallowed. His heart bellowed in his ears. Come on! Suddenly, he pictured Raz, shrieking in the middle of the night, reliving the terrors of that incident. He imagined Mia, whisked away, forced to sell her body to disgusting strangers on the streets to make ends meet. It¡¯s just a finger! Emil screamed. He willed himself to comply. The machete finally descended. ¡°Stop!¡± Squelch! Blood sprayed. Emil felt a strong hand holding his wrist. It was Baer. ¡°You¡¯re one crazy bastard,¡± Baer remarked in delight, ¡°I couldn¡¯t even stop you in time.¡± Baer had pushed his arm at the last second, altering the trajectory of the machete¡¯s descent. Instead, it grazed the side of his little finger, ripping off a small chunk of flesh. The finger was mangled and bleeding, but it remained intact. Functional. ¡°Get Miles first aid!¡± Baer called out. His henchmen moved immediately. Emil glanced at their hands, noticing that none of them had their pinkies removed. ¡°This was supposed to be a harmless test, but you were stronger than I expected. Amazing. You¡¯ve showed me your conviction,¡± Baer said as he took out an expensive-looking bottle from a nearby cellar. He set aside two cups on the table and popped the cork open. ¡°Your injury is unfortunate, but this is a good opportunity.¡± He cut a slit into his palms with the edge of the machete. Blood dripped, flowing into the bottle of scotch. Emil followed suit, hovering his mangled finger over the bottle. Blood oozed¡ªhis heart still racing from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Satisfied, Baer poured both of them a cup. ¡°Cheers, Miles. And welcome to Nostra.¡± Emil downed it in one gulp. The ferric accent was unpleasantly bitter. Chapter 10 - A dance with the devil (1) Emil Emil returned to the watering hole the following day. ¡°There¡¯s someone I like you to meet,¡± Baer said while leading the way down to the basement, ¡°He¡¯s one of our key distributors at Nostra. I¡¯ll have you work as his personal bodyguard.¡± Emil gave a curt nod. Nice. All according to plan. His brutality yesterday was a deliberate strategy to show off his martial prowess, so he could have a higher chance of being assigned this role. The syndicates were surprisingly pragmatic when it came to leveraging the skills and talents of their members. The bodyguard position was desirable because it gave him the best chance of being placed close to important figures. Executives, strategist, managers¡ªthese were the individuals within the syndicates with the power to make decisions, and therefore, were most likely to have knowledge of a stolen Azurite cache. Emil winced at the dull pain buzzing from his hands. The act of getting here nearly costed him a finger, but his boldness paid off. They re-entered the basement office. A man was there¡ªhis hands, adorned with opulent rings, locked behind his hunched back as he scrutinized the array of liquor bottles Baer had on display. His oily hair was long and disheveled, draped down messily to his shoulders. His skin, pallid and wrinkled, was smeared with dark spots. At the sound of their footsteps, he turned around. The first thing Emil noticed was his crooked nose and clefted lip. His eyes were twisted into a nasty scowl. ¡°Baer, you¡¯re late,¡± the man hissed. It was an unpleasant sounding voice¡ªslightly shrill, yet somehow still retaining the timbre of a man. It didn¡¯t sound right. ¡°You didn¡¯t give a time,¡± Baer replied, scratching his head. ¡°The whore houses open in thirty. The miners and craftsman are done in forty. These are prime hours for business. Or are you feeling so charitable that you¡¯re willing to dock your pay for me?¡± the man asked, visibly irate. Baer said nothing except react with a wry grin. Emil noted his discomfort. The man suddenly turned towards him. Emil nearly flinched¡ªthe hair on his arms rose at the intensity of his gaze. ¡°So, who¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Your new bodyguard.¡± The man frowned. ¡°I asked for the best you¡¯ve got, didn¡¯t I? I didn¡¯t ask for some scrawny kid¡ª¡± He suddenly stopped. Without warning, he reached out to grab Emil¡¯s arm. Emil almost retaliated out of instinct. Despite his infirm appearance, the man¡¯s movements were astonishingly fast and strong. His hands instantly slithered the length of Emil¡¯s arm like a snake. ¡°¡­Never mind, he has some promise. Looks certainly can be deceiving,¡± he said, breaking into a creepy smile, ¡°You must be the person Caiside mentioned. Miles, was it?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Emil replied. Jitters rushed down his spine. What¡¯s this uncomfortable feeling? The man before him was hardly imposing, but there was something threatening about him. It wasn¡¯t Baer¡¯s deference to his authority. It wasn¡¯t his unpredictable movements that had no respect for personal boundaries. Nor was it his unusually sharp gaze that seemed to cut straight through you. Emil was an Exalted¡ªthere weren¡¯t many things that could invoke such a visceral discomfort out of him. ¡°Polite as well. What a catch, Baer,¡± the man mused, ¡°You can just call me Decim. All I do is sell drugs, it¡¯s hardly a job worthy of respect.¡± Decim turned to glare at Baer, ¡°And speaking of job, thanks to Baer¡¯s tardiness, I¡¯m late.¡± Decim made no efforts to hide his displeasure as he walked towards the stairway leading to the ground level. He beckoned for Emil to follow. ¡°Come Miles, let¡¯s have a chat while we work.¡± *** Evening arrived in Lower Dannan when they left the watering hole. The skies were slathered in a somber coat of twilight. The low hum of the Dannan clocktower blared in the background. Emil trailed behind Decim as he trekked deeper into the slums. A stale odor permeated the area. Unlike the smoke and ferric vapors of the industrial district, the slums reeked of piss and decay. Trash and mold littered the ground like grass. Fruit flies and other unidentifiable bugs buzzed in the air, delighted by the abundance of sustenance. Emil tried not to react to the stench. The difference between Upper Dannan and this was difficult to reconcile in his head. It was disturbing how both scenes were somehow part of the capital city of Nordica. He bit on his gums in self-admonishment, reminding himself that it was only until four years ago that he called these slums his home. ¡°I got some tidbits of you from Caiside. Strong. Fast. A vicious fighter. You¡¯re an apprentice blacksmith in need of cash,¡± Decim said as he stepped over a pile of rubble. They were venturing down one of the many meandering passageways of the slums. ¡°I have to say, you''re quite nonchalant about the slums as someone who came from the industrial district.¡± His tone was casual, but Emil didn¡¯t miss the faint hints of scrutiny in his voice. I¡¯m being tested again. ¡°I lived in the slums for a few years before escaping,¡± he replied. Decim tilted his head, his eyes dilated with interest, ¡°Oh! And how did that happen?¡± ¡°I stumbled into a business owner by chance. They needed an extra pair of hands for their work. Said I looked intelligent enough with my blue eyes.¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. A set of half-truths. ¡°Business owner¡± referred to the witch. ¡°An extra pair of hands¡± wasn¡¯t technically wrong either since Steiger was always in need of personnel. And the witch did comment on his eyes a few times during the early days of their wretched relationship. This should be fine. Decim didn¡¯t say anything¡ªonly offering a faint whistle to acknowledge his response. Emil felt sweat claw down his neck. His new boss¡¯s expression was unreadable. The sun slowly descended as the meandering path soon opened up to a wider, more bustling part of the slums. Dilapidated buildings lined the side of the road. The street was noticeably cleaner¡ªlacking the stench and deplorable rot of the previous alleyways. It was still clandestine, but for the slums, Emil thought it was fairly livable. ¡°Welcome to Lover¡¯s Lane,¡± Decim said, gesturing dramatically like an actor on stage. Emil narrowed his eyes at the name, until he noticed a laborer being escorted into a building by a pair of girls. Oh. We¡¯re in that part of town. He realized most of the buildings on the street had a woman standing by the entrance. They were all adorned in a red dress. Their shoulders were laid bare. Their legs peeked out of the hems of their skirts. Their faces were pale, caked in powder, and their lips accented with a deep scarlet hue. For every woman, Emil caught at least two men hidden in the shadows of the building or at the edges of the alleyways. Guards. ¡°This entire area is owned by Nostra. Operated by yours truly,¡± Decim presented with an exaggerated bow, ¡°We keep the streets presentable, provide protection, and of course¡ª¡± he reached inside the pockets of his coat and produce a pouch. He gave it a light shake. The sound of tiny grains rattled inside. ¡°¡ªoffer the good stuff. You¡¯re a laborer. Surely you know what this is?¡± Opium. It was the same product that Grenze was producing. It seemed like demand for the white powder was insatiable. Emil nodded. A wicked sneer crossed Decim¡¯s face. He beckoned towards the brothels on the streets. ¡°Our clients to come here after a long, backbreaking day of work. The women provide them with a good time, and just as they¡¯re basking in the afterglow, they¡¯re offered the magical powder,¡± Decim explained with a despicable smirk, ¡°A single whiff, and they¡¯re taken to a world without the pain, the disgusting soot, the blazing heat of the blast furnaces. Ecstasy. It¡¯s heaven in the mortal realm. So of course, they always, always come back for more.¡± Emil felt his nails dug into his hands. He was suddenly cognizant of the heat rising in his chest. Decim¡¯s words brought back a disturbing experience that he¡¯d rather forget. The revulsion clung to the pits of his stomach. Relax. He had to remind himself to see the bigger picture. The Azurite cache. That¡¯s what he was here for. This wasn¡¯t the time for his misplaced sense of justice. ¡°By the way,¡± Decim asked, leaning close¡ªhis pale, slimy face glistening with curiosity,¡± To celebrate our partnership, want a woman and a whiff of this amazing thing? My treat.¡± Emil shot him a side-eye, fighting the urge to deck him in the face, ¡°¡­I¡¯ll pass.¡± ¡°Hmmm? Really?¡± Decim looked down. ¡°Surely, you¡¯ve got a functional cock, yeah? And things that you would rather forget?¡± The latter made Emil stir. The temptation gnawed at his subconscious. The terror of that incident flashed in his mind. It would be pleasant to forget sometimes, wouldn¡¯t it? No. He¡¯s seen what happened to people who underestimated the substance. With just a single whiff, they¡¯ll become slaves to the powder. ¡°I¡¯ll abstain,¡± Emil said, more firmly this time, feeling the heat in his throat, ¡°I can¡¯t exactly be your bodyguard while high off my mind.¡± Decim grinned. ¡°A principled man, aren¡¯t you? Well, suit yourself.¡± He approached the nearest brothel. The lady standing at the front flinched upon seeing him. She immediately lowered her head in reverence. At the base of the lady¡¯s neck, beneath the veil of the whitening makeup, Emil could see glaring glimpses of rashes and skin lesions. He listened as Decim made some distasteful jokes and offered a few flattering comments. Then at the end of their brief exchange, he handed her a pouch of the drug and received a purse of coins in return. ¡°And that¡¯s how we conduct business,¡± Decim said. He faced Emil with a villainous smile, ¡°Miles, do tell me. Does the sight of this disgust you?¡± ¡°¡­It does,¡± Emil admitted, clenching his teeth, ¡°But I¡¯m not na?ve. I know what I walked into. I¡¯m not going to let it affect my job.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Decim giggled, ¡°I do enjoy working with a professional.¡± *** What the hell am I doing? Three days had passed. Each evening Emil would accompany Decim in his daily patrol of the slums, collecting payments from Nostra owned businesses and dealing with whatever nuisances that arose. During that time, Emil had gotten no closer to figuring out the whereabouts of the stolen Azurite cache. Hopefully Van¡¯s having better luck in Aois Nua. Aside from his frustrations over the lack of progress, he hated how he was already growing numb towards the deplorable state of the slums. His disgust from the first day had faded¡ªno longer did he feel the same rage watching the slum residents get exploited by the syndicates. The speed of how fast he accepted this as normal was alarming. It worked well to keep his cover intact, but Emil had to constantly remind himself that this was all wrong. Today, he noticed that they were deviating from Decim¡¯s usual route. Nostra occupied the northeastern quadrant of slums. They had been walking west without rest since they left the watering hole. This is venturing towards Aois Nua¡¯s territory. Decim led them out of an alleyway and onto another main street within the slums. This time Emil immediately felt a shift in the air. A malicious tension suffused the vicinity. His skin began to crawl as if the malignant vibes were a tangible mass, threatening to swallow him whole. Between the three syndicates, Aois Nua was known for their savagery. While Nostra and Grenze were content as long as they were making money, Aois Nua actively sought out conflict and violence. The road before them seemed empty, devoid of life, but Emil could already feel several eyes scrutinizing their arrival, hiding amongst the dilapidated ruins. ¡°¡­This isn¡¯t Nostra territory anymore. What are we doing here?¡± he asked. Decim flashed him a knowing smile, ¡°You¡¯ve noticed? That¡¯s good. Be ready. Maybe you¡¯ll finally prove yourself useful today.¡± His words stung, although he wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªthere simply wasn¡¯t much for Emil to do during the past few days when Decim was patrolling Nostra¡¯s own territories. Decim added, ¡°I¡¯m meeting a client here. Don¡¯t ask why they decide to choose Aois Nua territory as the meeting place. All you need to know is that this is an important matter, so I expect you to make sure our conversation isn¡¯t interrupted.¡± He expects trouble? Emil read between the lines. His discomfort must have been obvious as Decim suddenly broke into laughter. His shrill cackles rang across the eerie streets. Emil cringed at the grating sound. Does he not realize we¡¯re being observed?! ¡°Miles, don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re getting cold feet just because you might have to do your job.¡± ¡°No. Just resolving myself,¡± Emil replied firmly. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s hurry up then. I¡¯m tired of all these eyes staring at me like I¡¯m an animal.¡± They entered a small alleyway off the corner of the main road. The pathway was formed by a cascade of dilapidated stone buildings roughly two-stories tall. The ground was littered with splintered planks and metal fragments. As they walked, Emil noticed an abnormal number of rats scurrying about. This place looked like it was part of a residential area, but the dearth of people implied otherwise. Darkness descended when Decim suddenly stopped before the hollowed doorway of a ruined building. ¡°I¡¯ll be in here,¡± he said. Emil tried to peek into the door, but the absence of light made it impossible to discern what¡¯s inside. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, just wait out here. I should be out in about fifteen minutes,¡± Decim said before scrolling into the building. Emil watched as Decim¡¯s body was swallowed by the darkness. Suddenly, he was alone, in the middle of a violent syndicate¡¯s territory. The eyes hiding in the vicinity all fixated on him. Chapter 11 - A dance with the devil (2) Decim The air was heavy with the stank of rot. Decim walked carefully as he stepped through the dark, dilapidated building. The darkness seemed to wrap around him, muting his senses, distorting his field of view. Vaguely, he could make out the faint vestiges of his surroundings thanks to the glimpses of moonlight leaking in from the walls. The room he was in seemed mostly empty¡ªminus the fragments of rotting wood decorating the corners. He took a step. The old wooden flooring groaned with a dull creak. The sound was blaringly loud against the suffocating silence. A den of rats suddenly scurried nearby. ¡°You¡¯re here.¡± The voice nearly made him jump. Decim twisted his head frantically, trying to discern the source of the voice. ¡°Keep walking straight.¡± He obliged cautiously¡ªonly because he had no choice. Eventually, he found himself before the doorway of another room. Moonlight streaked in from a small window to his left, faintly illuminating just a portion of the space beneath. Below the silver lights, a person stood by the window sill, peering into the night. ¡°Kleine?¡± ¡°That¡¯s me,¡± the person named Kleine turned around. Decim shuddered as their eyes met. Pale skin. A pair of piercing eyes colored in crimson. An impassive, doll-like face. Their hair¡ªlong, white as snow, glistening under the moon¡¯s illumination. Moonlight seemed to wrap around them, enshrouding their body in an ethereal veil. An otherworldly beauty. Decim would have mistaken them for a woman, if he didn¡¯t know in advance the person he was expecting to meet. It was now obvious why Kleine requested this dreary location¡ªwith such a breathtaking appearance, it was impossible for him to not draw attention. ¡°My name is Decim,¡± he introduced himself as he slowly took out a pouch concealed on his body. At Kleine¡¯s behest, he unveiled its contents. There was a small stone. Moonlight bounced off its uneven edges, producing a subtle azure glow. ¡°Five pounds of Azurite. Processed and refined. As you requested,¡± he set the leather pouch down. ¡°And the rest?¡± Kleine asked. His face remained unreadable, barely acknowledging the transaction. ¡°Stored safely under my jurisdiction. It hasn¡¯t moved since that swordsman of yours helped us retrieve it.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t be safe there for long. Steiger is undoubtedly looking for it,¡± Kleine said, ¡°Rumors are already spreading that one of the syndicates stole something valuable from them. Given how fast the news is moving, this is likely Steiger¡¯s handiwork. Both Aois Nua and Grenze are already reacting. They¡¯re trying to draw you out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware of that.¡± ¡°Then you should be moving it to a securer location.¡± ¡°I¡¯m making preparations. But it takes time. The bottleneck is procuring more personnel to aid with the transport,¡± Decim admitted, ¡°I need time to verify their skills and their loyalty.¡± ¡°You¡¯re recruiting at this timing?¡± Kleine asked, dumbfounded, ¡°All you¡¯re doing is adding spies into your ranks. That is a mistake.¡± ¡°I need numbers to defend against the inevitable raids from Grenze and Aois Nua.¡± ¡°What you need is speed and secrecy,¡± Kleine¡¯s voice lowered to a growl. ¡°You¡¯re still treating this as a petty territorial squabble between the syndicates. But it¡¯s not Aois Nua and Grenze that you need to worry about. It¡¯s Steiger.¡± The air suddenly thickened with murderous intent. Kleine¡¯s face barely moved an inch, but his impassive demeanor instantly turned cold. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve forgotten since you¡¯ve been left alone for so long, but the only reason you¡¯re allowed to exist is because Steiger tolerates it. There¡¯s no amount of lowlife rabble in the slums that would help you survive against their raids.¡± Decim realized his hands had balled into fists. His teeth were clenched, baring angrily at Kleine. Kleine continued, unfazed by Decim¡¯s open hostility, ¡°A missing Azurite cache is a national security threat. Steiger will not ignore this. The only reason they haven¡¯t done anything significant yet is because they aren¡¯t sure who has it. You need to cull your numbers. Eliminate anyone that might be a rat. Only your most trusted should be tasked with this job. If Steiger gets confirmation that Nostra is the one holding the Azurite, then consider all of your lives forfeit.¡± ¡­He¡¯s not wrong. Decim clicked his tongue in frustration. Just a week ago, one of Grenze¡¯s drug processing facilities was apparently dismantled by a Cleaner. Years of Steiger overlooking their operations had made him arrogant. ¡°I¡¯ll keep your words in mind,¡± Decim hissed, reluctant to concede. His chest burned. The realization of who they were actually dealing with finally began to settle in. Suddenly, he was having regrets about this job. *** Emil Emil waited by the entrance, staring at the ominous moon lingering in the shadows of the night skies. Frigid winds grazed his arms, stealing away vestiges of warmth. It was silent. Oddly so. It was as if a thick blanket had been draped over the area, snuffing and muting all sounds. Aside from the rats scampering about on the ground, Emil couldn¡¯t feel any other presences. The buildings around him were completely dark. Even at night, in Lower Dannan, there would usually be the occasional candle light glimmering from the edge of windows. Not here. Even the prying eyes from earlier had disappeared. It only exacerbated things, however, as his imagination of the unknown ran wild. Emil¡¯s senses assured him that he was fine, but his instincts refused to be convinced.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Am I being too paranoid? Barely ten minutes had passed and his unease was already growing unbearable. The clocktower suddenly roared in the background. Emil nearly jumped out of his skin, startled by the blaring overtones. Wait¡ª Without warning, he caught sounds scurrying from the darkness. Footsteps. They came from all directions, almost masked by the ringing clocktower. They were too heavy to be from the rats. ¡°Decim!¡± Emil called into the dark room. He suddenly felt eyes searing into his back of his head, ¡°Decim! We need to leave. Now. There¡¯s a bunch of people coming this way. Likely hostile.¡± ¡°They¡¯ve finally taken action, huh?¡± Decim¡¯s voice echoed from the darkness. Another voice suddenly followed. ¡°There¡¯s a lot of them. Do you want a hand?¡± ¡°No. My partner is apparently quite competent,¡± Decim said as he emerged from the dark room. He glanced around, taking in the situation. A vicious smirk soon crossed his face. Emil wasn¡¯t sure if he was insane or oblivious to their predicament. They were deep inside Aois Nua territory with no reinforcements. ¡°Let¡¯s go before they¡ª¡± He caught the mechanical click of a drawstring. Emil immediately tossed his head back as he shoved Decim aside. Something sharp cut through the air. It struck the doorway with a sharp thud, etching itself into the wooden frame. An iron bolt. ¡°Move! Move!¡± Emil pushed Decim forward. The two of them broke into a sprint as a barrage of bolts rained down on the spot they were just standing at. The moon was in full bloom at this point, no longer concealed by the dark clouds as it casted its ominous gaze upon their location. Emil suddenly felt very exposed. ¡°Don¡¯t stop! We need get into the shadows!¡± He picked up a rusted fragment of metal on the ground as they ran by¡ªusing it as a makeshift shield. Projectiles continued to pepper them from behind. The fragment in his hands rattled violently each time a bolt bounced off the surface. There were a few meters left until they were out of the moonlight. ¡°Keep going, almost th¡ª¡± Something wet suddenly splattered against the back of his neck. Emil groaned. Pain seared from the back of his left shoulder. Iron teared through his flesh, striking bone¡ªthe impact nearly knocked him over. ¡°Miles?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± he screamed. The pain was manageable. He¡¯s suffered much worse. What scared him, however, was whether or not the bolt was poisoned. I guess I¡¯ll find out in a bit. There was nothing that could be done right now. They needed to shake off their pursuers first. Finally, they made their way into the shadows. Without the moon¡¯s illuminations, the accuracy of the enemy¡¯s crossbows lessened significantly. Emil tossed the useless scrap in his hands away as he tried to catch his breath, ¡°How far away are we from the main road?¡± ¡°Just up ahead,¡± Decim replied curtly, lacking his usual chattiness. Still, the languid man seemed composed, strangely unfazed by their situation. They were about to speed up when an array of torches emerged from the bend in the road. A group of men stomped onto the path. Each of them had the insignia of a cross coiled by snakes woven on their sleeves. It was the symbol of the Aois Nua syndicate. Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake. The men¡¯s eyes gleamed like predators. Their mouths curved into a murderous sneer. Machetes and knives spun excitedly in their hands, eager to draw blood. They were surrounded. Arbalists were at their rear, and these men blocked their escape. Do I have to use my Gift? Heat immediately surged from his chest in response to his thoughts. Emil suppressed it. The decision couldn¡¯t be made lightly. The moment he exposed himself as an Exalted, his cover would be blown. Decim¡¯s death also had to be avoided¡ªletting his boss die would instantly forfeit his Nostra membership. No, I can still get out of this. ¡°I¡¯m opening a path! Stay behind me!¡± Emil yelled as he rushed headfirst into the crowd of enemies. The Aois Nua men laughed, roaring with glee at his reckless charge. Unfazed, Emil brandished the machete strapped by his waist. He swung at the nearest man. Blood sprayed as his cleaver ripped through the man¡¯s throat. His victim collapsed, twitching in a pile of gore, choking in disturbing garbles as he struggled to hold onto life. The laughter ceased. The members of Aois Nua froze at the savage violence. The prey that they thought had been cornered suddenly pushed back with a frightening vengeance. Emil didn¡¯t waste this chance. As the Aois Nua soldiers were still in shock, he lunged. His eyes grew cold. Time seemed to slow. The noises around him became muffled. His body moved instinctively, flowing with a surgical precision. Like an efficient machine, he weaved and hacked, adhering to his Steiger training. Decimate them. The witch¡¯s whisper cackled in his head. Squelch! The unsetting sound of flesh being cleaved apart blared in his ears. Limbs, dismembered, flopped to the ground. Blood drizzled. The screams of his foes shrieked in the background. With cruel indifference, he continued chopping away to clear a path forward. Something torn into his right arm. Emil ignored the warm blood splattering against his face. His hands felt numb. Nonetheless, he tightened his grip and brought the machete down. The blade carved into the shoulder of the nearest Aois Nua member. Unlike before, however, his swing was abruptly stopped. The machete remained embedded in the man¡¯s shoulder¡ªhis bones blocked the cleaver¡¯s path, preventing a clean dismemberment. His right arm suddenly lacked strength. Emil tried to pull the cleaver out, but the glint of steel flashed in his periphery. He ducked¡ªa knife slashed the air where his head had been. He was forced to retreat. Iron bolts whizzed by as he leapt back, taking away chunks of his leg. He clenched his teeth, feeling the agony this time as the attack snapped him out of his trance. His injuries were piling up. He lost his weapon. He no longer had the initiative. Where¡¯s Decim? ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough.¡± The man in question suddenly stepped in front of him. His languid expression was gone as his face glowed with a renewed vigor. His back straightened. His hunchback disappeared. ¡°Who would have thought that a beast was hiding behind those intelligent blue eyes? Looks really are deceiving.¡± Decim brought down his hands. The rings on his fingers suddenly glowed with a deep, cerulean blue. Emil¡¯s jaws dropped. There was only one object in this world capable of emitting such a brilliant hue. Azurite. ¡°Now sit back and observe!¡± Decim said as he lifted his hands. The puddles of blood spilled by Emil earlier suddenly rose. Rapidly, they agglomerated, condensing into a solid scarlet sphere just above Decim¡¯s head. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the sphere of blood splintered into thousands of tiny needles. ¡°Pierce.¡± The needles of blood quivered for a split second, almost hesitant¡ªbefore surging forth with vengeance. Like a barrage of arrows, they rained down on the members of Aois Nua. Blood-curdling screams filled the night. Men were mercilessly skewered. As they bled, Decim seized control of their blood immediately, adding to his arsenal to continue the assault. At his flank, Emil overheard the clink of crossbows. Before he could call out the attack, Decim had already flicked his hands back. A sheet of blood manifested from the bloody mist, coagulating immediately into a solid form. Thud! Thud! Thud! The bolts bounced off the shield of blood. As the projectiles stopped, Decim swept his hands, retaliating with another barrage of needles in the direction of the arbalists. Suddenly, it was silent. The corpses of the Aois Nua members painted the ground in a river of scarlet. Emil couldn¡¯t help but wince at the gruesome sight. He was no stranger to gore as a Cleaner of Steiger, but even so, there were limits to what he could stomach. ¡°I think that¡¯s it,¡± Decim said casually. He snapped his fingers. The bloody mist in the air suddenly dispersed. Blood that had been controlled by mana fell onto the ground with a soft spat. The air was thick with a ferric stench. ¡°Good work, Miles,¡± Decim said, extending a hand. Emil stared at it in disbelief. A deluge of thoughts spiraled in his head. ¡°You¡¯re¡ª¡± ¡°An Exalted,¡± Decim said with ecstasy in his eyes, ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve been able to use my Gift. What a nostalgic feeling.¡± He was evaluating me this entire time. Decim¡¯s Gift wiped out the entirety of the Aois Nua forces in the blink of an eye. His nonchalant attitude this entire evening suddenly made sense¡ªas an Exalted, he was never in any real danger. ¡°So? Are you going to accept my hands? Or did the sight of a Gift scare you into disobedience?¡± Decim let out a shrill laugh, ¡°Your savagery has earned my respect, Miles. Therefore, I granted you the privilege of knowing my secret. I¡¯m an Exalted. One of the few confined in these slums.¡± He dangled his hands in front of Emil once more. ¡°And here¡¯s to our wonderful partnership.¡± Ensnared by his presence, Emil reluctantly accepted Decim''s hands. The foul texture of blood was caked along his palms. Chapter 12 - Something feels wrong Emil ¡°How are your injuries?¡± Caiside asked as Emil entered the watering hole. ¡°Fine. Bearable,¡± Emil replied curtly, feigning exhaustion from a long day¡¯s work. Decim had given him a day to rest after returning from their client meeting inside Aois Nua¡¯s territory. The injuries he suffered that night were nothing major for someone who survived Steiger''s hellish training regiment. Still, he took the rare opportunity to clear his mind and share his findings with Van. ¡°Miles¡± was just a regular blacksmith apprentice after all. ¡°Let me know if you want something to kick off the edge,¡± Caiside offered with a smile. Today he accompanied Emil as they climbed down to the basement floor of the watering hole. Baer and his men were already there. The brawny leader flashed his signature smile as their eyes met, before stomping towards the back of the room. ¡°Here we go,¡± Baer muttered as he pried apart a piece of the wood attached to the wall. It revealed an opening to an underground tunnel, barely high enough for a normal person to fit when crouched. Without being prompted, his men began filing into the narrow passageway. Like Grenze, Nostra also controlled a hidden network of underground tunnels that connected different locations within the Lower Dannan slums. Today, they were heading towards Decim¡¯s office. The man had called for a special meeting. I swear these guys have a fetish for staying underground. Emil winced once it was his turn to enter. He was hardly the biggest person around, but even then, the narrowness of the tunnel was giving him trouble. Claustrophobia clawed the back of his mind. The wet, earthy musk of the tunnel was nauseating. The heavy pants echoing from further down the tunnel only added to his discomfort. ¡°Miles, nicely done,¡± Baer, who was behind him, suddenly said. ¡°¡­What do you mean?¡± Emil replied, fighting to keep his voice as steady as possible. Panic was starting to creep into his throat. ¡°Decim was singing praises for your performance the other day. You should rejoice¡ªhe rarely speaks well of anyone. Good stuff man,¡± Baer said excitedly, ¡°Let me know if you ever get the itch to punch something. I¡¯m always down for a good spar.¡± Emil rolled his eyes. Why am I not surprised? Baer was the prototypical muscle head¡ªsomeone who only thought about strength and fighting. They were simple and obedient if you had their respect, but notoriously difficult to deal with once they got an ego. Emil learned that the hard way dealing with Raz back in the day. ¡°I was just doing my job,¡± he said unassumingly. He also learned that projecting a certain amount of indifference always seemed to make them impressed. Maybe they see it as confidence. After what felt like a grueling eternity, Emil finally arrived at the end of the tunnel. He pried himself out of the musky passageway. His limbs relaxed with relief at having more than an inch of space in his proximity. He suddenly found himself before a massive subterranean chamber. The area was modestly decorated and furnished generously with an array of wooden chairs and tables. A stage had been built on the far side of the chamber, seemingly designed for an orator to deliver speeches. Calling this an ¡°office¡± was a gross understatement¡ªthis was an entire auditorium. Decim¡¯s status must be higher than I realized. There was at least one hundred people that could fit comfortably in this underground hall. It seemed excessively extravagant for a common manager of a syndicate. ¡°Is Decim an executive or something?¡± he asked. Baer shot him a confused look. ¡°Yeah. You didn¡¯t know? Decim is one of the highest-ranking members in Nostra.¡± ¡°¡­I see.¡± And why the hell did no one tell me?! Emil¡¯s heart sank as he recalled his boorish attitude over the past few days. In hindsight, perhaps it should have been obvious. Decim had his hands in nearly all of Nostra¡¯s businesses. Above all, he was an Exalted. Fucking muscle head. Emil gave Baer the side-eye when he wasn¡¯t looking. The man should have been the one to say something when he made the initial introductions. Footsteps suddenly clacked across hardwood. It was Decim who scrolled onto the stage while clapping for everyone¡¯s attention. The miscellaneous conversations amongst those in attendance immediately silenced in his presence. ¡°I see that everyone is here. Good. Let us start the meeting,¡± Decim said as he scanned the audience with a piercing gaze, ¡°The people gathered here tonight have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty. I have an important job that must be executed to perfection. It¡¯s a simple affair really, but it¡¯s been made complicated by some nasty rumors going around.¡± Decim described the rumors, detailing how Steiger was currently monitoring the slums after one of the syndicates stole something under their grasp. The mere mention of Steiger instantly dampened the air with an unsettling tension. Emil narrowed his eyes, trying to understand the implications of this new information. Despite Decim¡¯s statement, whispers of Steiger investigating the slums hadn¡¯t reached his ears. ¡­It doesn¡¯t make sense for the syndicates to be spreading these rumors. They must realize that all they¡¯ll be doing is inviting Steiger to investigate the slums. That''s the last thing they would want. Assuming the syndicate leaders aren¡¯t complete idiots, this must the witch¡¯s handiwork. Emil grinded the inside of his teeth. The witch¡¯s interference was an indirect message that she was getting impatient. On the other hand, does this mean Nostra isn¡¯t the one with the Azurite? Emil pondered the possibility as Decim continued to explain in the background. No. It¡¯s possible that Nostra has it, but Decim isn¡¯t aware. He might not be involved with the Azurite business. Nostra would want to minimize information leaks by restricting knowledge about the Azurite to only those who need to know.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°The job is to deliver a shipment of goods to an important client in the slums. However, with these rumors circulating, our rivals, Grenze and Aois Nua, as well the dogs of Steiger, will all be keeping their eyes peeled on any significant movements. Tensions are a little high. Undoubtedly, there¡¯ll be those who are overeager to attack anything that they see.¡± It¡¯s also possible that Nostra has it and Decim knows. This is not something he would reveal to his henchmen after all. ¡°So, here¡¯s the plan. The delivery will take place tomorrow evening. This group will act as a decoy by escorting a fake wagon of goods to a destined spot. While you guys draw the attention of the onlookers, the actual shipment will occur on a separate route. I will be leaking your decoy route in advance,¡± Decim explained, ¡°Baer, you¡¯re the commanding leader. Caiside, you¡¯re to assist him as the second-in-command. You should expect combat.¡± There is also a possibility that this shipment is the missing Azurite. Emil squirmed at the realization. He wanted to ask what they were helping to deliver, but the question would immediately make him suspicious. Still, if this shipment was the Azurite, letting it slip away would be a huge blunder. Not only it would be in the possession of a new unknown owner, but they would also have to restart their investigations and track it down once more. This might be my only opportunity. Emil grappled with indecision as Decim wrapped up the meeting. ¡°If you do find yourselves under attack, try to hold out until the midnight bell.¡± *** Emil sat at the counter of a small bar located in the corner of the auditorium. Decim¡¯s meeting had adjourned. The Nostra members present remained to discuss the details and logistics of tomorrow¡¯s delivery. At least that was supposed to be the plan. ¡°To my brethren!¡± Baer¡¯s rambunctious voice echoed over the auditorium. He raised his hand skyward, holding a huge cup filled to the brim with ale. Against the rambunctious cheers of his men, he greedily downed the cup in a single gulp. Somehow, I feel like nothing else productive is going to be done tonight. Emil tried to ignore the cacophony behind him. As he turned away from the festivities, he found a glass filled with vibrant colors waiting for him at the counter. ¡°¡­What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°Just a small concoction,¡± Caiside replied, taking his natural spot behind the bar, ¡°Something to shake off the nerves. You look anxious.¡± Did I? Emil frowned as he scrutinized the colorful layers of the drink. He didn¡¯t think he was that terrible at concealing his expressions. Perhaps his uncertainty was affecting his composure. ¡°The color is from juice. There¡¯s some herbal tea, infused with lime and some spices for energy. I added just a tiny ounce of alcohol.¡± Caiside winked, ¡°A spur-of-the-moment decision. You don¡¯t look like you¡¯re in the mood to drink.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Emil replied, slightly wary. He took a sip regardless, not wanting to act suspicious amongst Decim¡¯s most trusted men. The drink was sweet, not overpowering, accented by a slight sourness and spicy aftertaste that went smoothly down his throat. He observed his body for any adverse reactions. Nothing. ¡°It¡¯s¡­novel,¡± he commented. Caiside let out a laugh, ¡°Never heard that one before. Did it help with the nerves?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Emil admitted, ¡°But this is normal. Being anxious before doing something dangerous is normal. That¡ª¡± he thumbed at the festivities behind him, ¡°¡ªis not.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t mind Baer. That¡¯s just his way of keeping morale up. After all, some of us might not make it back tomorrow.¡± Fair point, Emil thought as he continued to sip on his drink. The route that Decim drew up took them through both Grenze and Aois Nua territories. Grenze might leave them alone, but a fight on Aois Nua¡¯s turf was pretty much unavoidable. ¡°Here¡¯s the route that the actual delivery is going to take tomorrow,¡± Caiside suddenly said, producing a folded map inscribed with ink. Emil raised an eye. Why is he showing me this? ¡°Decim wanted you to know. This is the route that we¡¯re supposed to draw attention away from as the decoy,¡± Caiside explained as if reading his hesitation. Curiosity overcame his suspicions as he reached for the map. It was a crude drawing of the Lower Dannan slums. Emil committed the marked route to the memory, trying to reconcile the map with the physical locations. ¡°Why me?¡± he asked. ¡°In case I die,¡± Caiside shrugged, ¡°Someone else needs to know which routes we need to avoid. Baer is ill-suited for it. I¡¯m usually the brains and he¡¯s the brawn. I guess Decim think you¡¯re the next best thing.¡± Decim? This was Decim¡¯s decision? Alarms raised in his head. His hands suddenly grew sweaty. Something about this felt wrong. Emil tried his luck with a question, ¡°Any idea what we¡¯re delivering?¡± ¡°A few carets of sapphire, apparently.¡± Sapphire. The word thundered in his head. No way. Emil reached for his drink and took a long, cautious sip. He focused on the sweet and sour flavors of the concoction, trying to distract himself from his raging heart. Sapphire. It was a gemstone that radiated a blue cerulean hue. Emil swallowed his drink and asked, ¡°Decim explicitly said it was sapphire?¡± This question was stretching it. But he had to be sure. Caiside blinked, as if caught off guard by his bizarre question, ¡°No, actually. He just said it was an expensive blue gemstone. Enough of it to make a fortune.¡± There was another stone that also produced a blue glow. Azurite. *** What do I do? Emil leaned against the wall, frustrated, agonizing over his next course of action. He was resting inside his temporary dwellings¡ªa modest room in a cheap inn deep within the industrial district. It was an ideal location for his undercover mission. Nostra¡¯s eyes did not extend this far out of the slums, and the inn was a comfortable distance from the tavern where Mia and Raz were staying. The last thing he wanted was to be recognized by some of the regulars at the tavern. He replayed the information unveiled this evening. Decim is aware of rumors that something was stolen from Steiger. The suspects are the syndicates. He has a delivery for an important client. The shipment is apparently a few carets of an expensive blue gemstone. There¡¯s a high chance the shipment might be the Azurite. The timing of the delivery seemed too convenient of a coincidence. At the very least, it was a solid lead worth pursuing. Given he and Van have already spent a week undercover without making much progress, this information felt like a lifeline. I should contact him now and get Steiger to make a move. The thought boomed in Emil¡¯s head, but for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to take action. A sickening dread stirred in the pits of his stomach. Something continued to gnaw in the back of his mind, begging for him to reconsider. What am I worried about? What am I missing? His gut feeling warned him that something was off. Emil scoured his memories of being undercover for the past few days, trying to figure out the source of his unease. Decim¡¯s words suddenly echoed in his head, ¡°The people gathered here have been selected for their track record, competence, and loyalty.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. Then why me? Why was I chosen? Decim¡¯s words might have applied to the rest of the members in attendance, but not him. He was only initiated a few days ago. He had a single instance in Aois Nua¡¯s territory where he demonstrated his competence and loyalty, but that should not have been enough for him to be considered ¡°trustworthy.¡± At the very least, he should not have been amongst the likes of Baer and Caiside. Am I overthinking this? He bit his thumb in frustration, embroidered with uncertainty. Decim. The answer lies with him. Based of what I know of him, does he seem like the type of person who could trust someone so easily? ¡°No,¡± he muttered to himself. He didn¡¯t even need to think about it. The person known as Decim was cunning, methodical, and skeptical. He was conniving. He scrutinized everything. He regularly withheld information¡ªonly revealing what he felt was necessary. And he was constantly testing me. A snap of clarity flickered in his head. Oh, I get it now. The relentless gnawing in his subconscious vanished. This feels like another test. Chapter 13 - Thunderous rain Emil It was night of the mission. Emil tossed the hood of his cloak over his head and fastened his Nostra mask over his mouth. Rain poured from the pitch-black skies, slamming against the earth in violent patters. Cautiously, he advanced¡ªhis feet already drenched in the puddles of the incessant rain as he held onto a lantern encased in glass. The flickering candle inside barely illuminated a few meters in front of him. Baer and Caiside were close behind. Further down the line was a wagon hauled by a few of Baer¡¯s sturdier men. The rest of them surrounded the wagon, diligently escorting it down the muddy roads. Emil was at the vanguard. His eyes darted back and forth, scrutinizing the darkness for any signs of an ambush. They were supposed to be the decoy to draw attention away from the delivery of the real shipment. If they did their job well, then a fight was almost inevitable. I don¡¯t know if I made the right choice. Emil¡¯s mind drifted amidst the raging downpour. In the end, he decided not to inform Steiger of this potential lead. His gut feelings last night convinced him that this was another test devised by Decim. When he thought about it rationally, however, he couldn¡¯t erase the thought that this was a missed opportunity. This is stupid. Did I seriously let a vague feeling change my mind? He gritted his teeth, suddenly regretting his inaction. This was an affair of national security he reminded himself. The royal family and House Belle, the victim of the stolen Azurite, were observing this situation closely. The witch will not tolerate failure. Fuck. He clenched his fists. Rain thundered in his ears. I really hope I¡¯m not wrong. ¡°Take a left, Miles,¡± Caiside said, his voice muffled over the raging rain. Emil turned, rounding the bend of the road. ¡°We¡¯re out of Nostra territory now. This is the neutral area. Stay vigilant,¡± Caiside announced. Emil narrowed his eyes, picturing the map in his head. They were about a quarter of the way through the assigned route. The wagon behind them creaked loudly as it struggled to make the turn. From the lantern''s dim lights, he could make out the outlines of their surroundings. The road they were on was straight, flanked on both sides by scaffolding from abandoned and unfinished buildings. The strange feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu wormed into his conscious. This is near the compound. His heart screamed, overpowering the stampeding rain. He hadn¡¯t set foot in this area since that incident. Stop. He bit on the inside his gums to steady his nerves. The throbbing pain echoed in his mouth. You can have your breakdown later. Suddenly, he caught a distinct mechanical thunk amidst the rain. Emil turned. A glint of silver crossed the air from the atop of the scaffoldings. He instinctively covered his vitals with his arms. ¡°Argh!¡± the man beside him suddenly groaned. He writhed maniacally¡ªthe light from his lantern flickering out of the control until it smashed onto the ground. He collapsed, twitching, choking as blood pooled from the bolt embedded in his neck. ¡°We¡¯re under attack!¡± Emil yelled. ¡°Shields up!¡± Baer immediately ordered. His henchmen reached for the metallic plates strapped on their backs and raised it above their heads. They crouched to make themselves as tiny of a target as possible. Iron bolts shot from the skies, peppering the plated shields with heavy thuds. Emil dove to the side and clung to the wall of the left side of the road. The lantern was still in his hands, projecting a dim glow into the darkness. The man that was beside him now laid lifelessly on the ground. Shit! If he hadn¡¯t gotten caught up by his memories, he might have noticed the ambush earlier. He raised his lantern and peered into the darkness. Several bolts instantly flew in his direction. He dropped flat onto the ground upon seeing the glimpses of silver. The bolts blasted the walls right above his head. Arbalists. About fifty meters away. Atop of the makeshift tower from the scaffoldings. Harrowing screams from Baer¡¯s men soon screeched over the downpour. Despite their shields, the iron bolts were finding their marks in the gaps between their formation. Slowly, injuries were piling up. Men began to collapse. The wagon couldn¡¯t advance further. There was no cover on this road. There was nowhere to hide and nothing to protect them from the relentless barrage, except for the flimsy plates of metal in their hands. I need to get rid of the arbalists. Emil chained the lantern against his hips and sped across the road towards the closest tower. Baer¡¯s voice cried from behind, ¡°Miles! What are you doing?!¡± What am I doing? The question thundered in his head. He was rushing into the fray alone into an unknown group of assailants. It was foolish. Even if he was an Exalted, he was still human. He wasn¡¯t invulnerable. And for what? To save the lives of a couple of lowlifes dwelling in the slums? Over the past week, he grew increasingly disgusted with how Nostra exploited the residents of the slums. He was honestly glad that some of their members were dying a pitiful death. But even so, I¡¯m still undercover. Even if he had to turn a blind eye to revolting scenes before him. Even if he was disgusted with himself. Even if he had to put his own life on the line. Emil could not betray his cover. Because doing so will forsake his mission. ¡°I¡¯m attacking!¡± Emil yelled back, unsure if his voice would travel. The base of the scaffolding came into the view. As Emil got closer, he could make out silhouettes of five men guarding the base of the tower. Under the illumination of his lantern, he caught a glimpse of the insignia woven on their shoulders. Aois Nua again.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Emil revealed the machete beneath his cloak. He lunged at the nearest person and lashed out with an overhead swing. The Aois Nua soldier shrieked as Emil brought down the machete against his shoulder. Clank! Huh? There was resistance against his attack. His machete bounced off as the rebounding shock numbed his hands. They¡¯re wearing armor. Unfazed, he swung laterally. The Aois Nua soldier was still reeling from the initial strike¡ªdefenseless as Emil¡¯s machete sliced through his neck. The other four guarding the tower finally snapped into action. Emil shoved the dead soldier backwards into the direction of the oncoming guards. Three of them were blocked, entangled by the mass of bodies. The fourth one rushed at him, hatchet in hand, aimed at his head. Emil leaned back as his assailant¡¯s attack swiped the air uselessly. Without hesitation, he drove his foot into the guard¡¯s knees. The horrific crunch of bones teared through the air. He immediately put the man out of his misery. Behind him, he could hear Baer¡¯s voice shouting out orders. The clash of steel and blood echoed over the rain. More Aois Nua soldiers streamed out of the darkness, surrounding the wagon. The rest of their assault had begun. With everyone occupied by combat, no one from Nostra should be watching him. It should be fine now. Emil took a deep breath. A cerulean blue suddenly glowed from the inside of his clothes. His chest instantly felt lighter as if his heart was caressed by the soothing light. High density mana embraced his body. It came from the fragment of Azurite dangling from his pendant. The mana responded to his will, coursing through his body, imbuing his limbs with an inhuman strength. He was using Mana Arts¡ªan alternative technique that allowed the Exalted to use mana itself, rather than manipulate it to manifest their Gifts. Emil rushed at the remaining soldiers. The guards stared at him in disbelief¡ªhesitant at the otherworldly light surrounding his arms. Mana was usually invisible to Ordinaries, but in high concentrations, they could be seen as a pale blue light. Taking advantage of their hesitation, Emil swung. His fist drove deep into the first guard¡¯s chest. His body armor screeched as it caved under Emil¡¯s inhumane strength. His ribs soon followed, fracturing with a resounding crack. Emil twisted his fist. The mana in his hands spontaneously burst, ejecting a concussive blast that flung the guard backwards. The guard¡¯s body crashed into the legs of the makeshift tower with the momentum of the mana blast. The scaffolding immediately collapsed, burying the remaining guards and arbalists atop into an untimely grave. One down. Emil stared at the carnage before turning to the remaining tower across the road. His eyes were icy cold, gleaming with a savage glint. *** Baer What the hell is he doing?! Baer was speechless as Miles¡¯ body disappeared into the rainy darkness. He was about to run after him when Caiside pulled him back. ¡°Baer! We don¡¯t have time for him!¡± Caiside yelled, his face frantic with fear. Baer finally realized that something was wrong. Out of the darkness, members of Aois Nua suddenly emerged from their flanks and sides. They knew we were coming, Baer sneered uneasily. He was glad that they were fulfilling their roles as the decoy for Decim, but the number of enemies was beyond his expectations. They were here to buy time, not to get slaughtered. ¡°Form squares!¡± he ordered above the roaring rain. His men immediately shifted into a square formation with the wagon at its center. Their shields were raised to the front, forming a formidable wall along the perimeter. In their main hands held machetes brandished at the side, waiting, ready to attack once the enemies got close. In the near distance, something tall seemed to have collapsed amidst the darkness. Baer noticed that the attacks from the arbalists had lessened significantly. That must be Miles¡¯ doing. He smirked wildly, resolved not to be outdone by the newcomer. ¡°Roar! Slaughter them!¡± he yelled. His men responded with a resounding cry. The soldiers of Aois Nua rushed in. They slammed into their square formation from all sides simultaneously. The walls of shields held firm. Machetes slewed through the air, clashing against flesh and iron. Bodies began to topple as the deaths steadily rose. ¡°Caiside! Take command!¡± Baer said, wrapping his fists in a pair of iron gauntlets. The rear of their formation was being pushed back. He jumped into the frontlines, wasting no time as he immediately lunged at the nearest foe. Squelch! Blood sprayed. His victim went down as their face was brutalized by his savage blows. Baer didn¡¯t relent. Like a vicious beast, he continued his wild assault, rampaging through the enemy ranks with reckless abandon. More. His mouth curved into a murderous smirk as another foe was downed. More! His heart thumped with ecstasy. More! More! More! His hands were already drenched in his enemy¡¯s blood. Bodies sprawled around him. Death loomed over his head, gnawing at his subconscious, threatening to devour him at any moment. He reveled in the fear, the thrill, the rush of fighting to survive aside his men. Could there have been a more joyous moment than this? ¡°Baer! We need support on the left flank!¡± Caiside¡¯s voice rang over the chaos. Baer halted his advance and spun back towards the left side of their formation. There, his men were getting violently pushed back. A single person led Aois Nua¡¯s advance. Baer watched as the leader unleashed a devastating punch against their defenses. The wall of shields instantly folded¡ªthe metal plate caved in like it was a piece of parchment, bending inwards with a metallic screech. The sight confounded him for just a moment. Abandoning his thoughts, Baer rushed at the leader of the assault. He tossed out a fast jab at the man¡¯s side. His fist landed¡ªnot against flesh, but something insanely hard. Baer winced as the recoil stunned his hands. The man turned to face him¡ªright as a machete came down on his blind spot. Clank! Baer¡¯s eyes grew wide. The machete chopped down at the man¡¯s bare shoulder. Just before the blade made contact, however, the surface of the man¡¯s shoulder suddenly morphed into a layer of silver. The result was the machete¡¯s blade bouncing off with a resounding thud. What the hell was that? There was nothing that could have explained what Baer just witnessed. In the midst of his confusion, the man spun around and delivered a kick into his assailant¡¯s torso. His leg was like a hot knife, slicing through Baer¡¯s henchman with ease. His henchman flopped onto the ground, eviscerated in half as his blood splattered against the rainy earth. The grotesque aftermath sent terror rippling down the line. Baer wavered for the first time. He''s like Decim. That was the only way to explain what he just saw. An Exalted. He wanted to order a retreat immediately. They stood no chance against one¡ªnot with just a group of Ordinaries. But the midnight bell hadn¡¯t rang yet. The Exalted lunged at him. Baer retaliated with a right cross, aimed at their neck. Cling! The Exalted didn¡¯t bother dodging, electing to take the hit head-on. His fist bounced off uselessly as the Exalted swung. He saw a glimpse of death. The Exalted¡¯s punch was like a steel hammer as it smashed into his chest. His body armor cracked instantly. His lungs screamed. His head tossed back, whiplashed and dazed. In the midst of his stupor, he felt himself airborne, before his body finally crashed into the wooden frame of the wagon. ¡°Ugh¡­¡± he groaned. Pain seared from his ribs. Something threatened to erupt from his throat. Baer tried to suppress it, but instinct took over. He threw up. His chest was drenched in a viscous puddle of red. His vision blurred, frazzled by the concussive blow. Agony rippled through his lungs each time he breathed. Someone was screaming his name. But Baer could only keep his eyes on the Exalted. It trotted towards him with a sneering arrogance. The rest of his men were occupied by the other Aois Nua soldiers. Not that they can do anything anyways. He forced himself to smile. He tried to rise from his spot, but his body refused to cooperate. Slumped against the wagon, he simply stared at his executioner. There was no need to fear death. He knew that the moment he joined Nostra, his life was on a timer. Tonight was just the end of his luck. Heh, do your worse. As he embraced death, something shot into his vision. It dove into the Exalted, knocking it out of Baer¡¯s view. Chapter 14 - Wailing flames Emil Crash! The craggy earth stabbed into his side as Emil slammed into the ground, rolling¡ªhis body entangled with the Exalted. He tried to grapple the Exalted¡¯s arms when a silver glint suddenly flashed from below him. He tossed his head back. The arm of the Exalted blew by above his eyes in a wide crescent, narrowly missing a direct strike. Sensing danger, Emil jumped back in retreat. The Exalted slowly rose to his feet, his eyes glaring with murderous intent. Emil brushed the side of his chin. His fingertips were briefly bathed in warm blood before being washed away by the chilly rain. Great, another scar on the jaws. He was isolated with Aois Nua¡¯s Exalted, a distance away from where the main battle was taking place. After eliminating the arbalists, Emil returned to help his Nostra companions. When he saw the Exalted in action, he immediately charged into its blind spot. With his body fortified by mana, he slammed him through the brittle walls on the side of the road. They landed in the ruins of a compound. The area was nearly pitch-black. Only the lantern hooked onto his belt provided the dimmest of illuminations. In the background behind his foe, he could make out the faint outlines of an abandoned building. Light also bounced off the Exalted¡¯s limbs, glimmering with a metallic luster. From what I can tell, his Gift allows him to encase parts of his body in steel. But is it just the skin that¡¯s fortified or does it also include the flesh and bone as well? He considered his options. The Exalted¡¯s Gift was formidable in close combat, but he should be fine as long as he avoided a direct hit. If only his skin is metallized, I can grapple his arms and then try to break the bones and joints. But if it¡¯s the entire limb¡ª He had no time to think. The Exalted suddenly lunged with a wide jab. Emil stepped beneath the arc of his swing. Sensing an opportunity, he charged in to grab the outstretched arm. His instincts screamed. Emil immediately abandoned the attack and dove to the ground. Metal sliced the air above him. The Exalted had spun with the momentum of his jab to unleash a vicious kick. Emil struggled onto his feet¡ªencumbered by the muddy earth. The Exalted was on him immediately, flaying away with his metallized arms. Emil managed to brandish his machete at the last moment, deflecting the oncoming blows in desperation. Sparks flew, instantly snuffed out by the rain. The clash of cold steel resounded. He was being pushed back, his machete rapidly degrading under the relentless pressure. I have to create an opening! Clank! The machete finally fractured. Emil leaned back to evade the next attack as he unhooked the lantern on his belt. The lantern fell, its glass enclosure shattering as it slammed against the ruined earth. Exposed to the elements, the candle wick was instantly snuffed out by the rain. Darkness swallowed the vicinity. Suddenly engulfed by night, the Exalted froze. Emil seized the opening. Mana gathered in his hands. He targeted the Exalted¡¯s head, intent at smashing his skull into smithereens. An ominous clank echoed over the rain. Emil¡¯s hand collided against something hard. He felt the screech of his bones rattling from the recoil. Throbbing. Under a distant flicker of light from where the rest of Nostra was fighting, he could see the Exalted¡¯s head had morphed into steel. You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. Pain exploded from his upper body. The thing he knew, Emil found himself airborne. Agony blazed as his back torn through a wall. ¡°Ngh!¡± he groaned, landing hard against the ground. His lungs burned, mouth heaving blood as he gasped for air. His ears rang. His head was trembling, dazed¡ªhis vision blurring in and out of focus. His surroundings were unfamiliar, but he noticed the rain was absent. He must have been flung inside the abandoned building. He pressed a shaky hand across his chest, trying to assess the damage. The Exalted struck him with a blast of mana. Emil instinctively reinforced his body with Mana Arts before the attack landed. The reaction saved his life. But even so, he was still left in a wretched state. Well, this is fucking terrible. Thud. Thud. Thud. Footsteps echoed nearby. Rain pattered above. The Aois Nua Exalted entered his blurry view. The side of his face was disfigured¡ªblood dripping from the spot where Emil had struck him earlier.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I knew you would be alive,¡± the Exalted hissed. His words came out slurred due to the dislocation of his jaws. ¡°To think Nostra had another Exalted besides Decim. I cannot let this be.¡± Great, now I¡¯m being hunted down. Emil staggered onto his feet. He narrowed his eyes, trying to steady his flickering vision. The damage to his body was acceptable. Bad, but not debilitating. Not the worse he¡¯s ever experienced. In the background, the Dannan clocktower suddenly blared. The deep brass overtones signaled the advent of midnight. Their mission as a decoy for Decim¡¯s delivery was complete. Baer and Caiside should be ordering their men to abandon the wagon and retreat. Why do I get the feeling that they won¡¯t come for me? Emil thought with a self-deprecating smile. Not that they¡¯ll be of much use against an Exalted, but hey, it¡¯s the sentiment that counts. He wiped off the blood stained at the edge of his mouth. He heaved¡ªthe dry rasps agonizing as his lungs burned. I guess I don¡¯t need to hide this anymore. Emil tossed aside his rain-soaked cloak. Mana from his Azurite pendant raged, transforming into a torturous heat that rippled through his body. He grimaced. The sensation made his skin crawl. Memories of that incident flashed in his head. The sight of his friends being devoured by the unholy blaze. Those same insidious flames now gathered inside of him. The image ate at his heart. I hate using this. Steam rose from his skin¡ªthe rain rapidly evaporating by the rising temperatures. But I can¡¯t win without it. ¡°Bruno, Dale, Esmeralda,¡± he recited the names of his dead friends. Emil wailed. The visceral cry echoed across the abandoned building. Grief quickly twisted into fury. His body was suddenly set ablaze. Flames bloomed, engulfing his limbs and torso as if his flesh had become the tinder for the all-consuming blaze. The Exalted charged in. ¡°Burn!¡± Emil screamed. His guttural rage filled the air, like a pained howl from a wounded beast. The flames burst from his body. Like humanoid appendages, they flew at the Exalted. His opponent ducked and weaved, desperately trying to escape the flame¡¯s grasp. A few tendrils of fire caught onto the edges of the Exalted¡¯s clothes. Instantly, the flames erupted¡ªblossoming into a hellish conflagration bent on consuming its target. The Exalted pressed forward, undaunted. He dug into the earth and lunged. His body shot forward like a missile. His arms were encased in steel, stretched outwards, aimed at Emil¡¯s neck. Emil stomped the ground. The space before him cackled with energy as the ambient temperature climbed rapidly. The air spontaneously ignited, right as the Exalted arrived. Boom! The entire building shook from the explosion. The concussive force torn apart the weakened ceiling. Rain poured in, extinguishing the scorched earth. Emil stared at the remnants of his foe. The Exalted laid still on the ground. Steam rose from its burnt corpse, scorched beyond recognition. ¡­Dammit. Emil slumped onto the floor. The rain came down endlessly. The flames devouring his body slowly vanished. *** A distant memory. ¡°Control it!¡± Flames raged in his field of view. The temperature relentlessly swelled. As if a million ants had crawled onto his body, the flames burned¡ªgnawing away at his skin and flesh with a voracious appetite. ¡°Control it, you fool!¡± Emil screamed. Pain exploded from every pore of his body. Like a rampaging beast, the flames refused to be tamed, continuously burning with an undying vengeance, desperate to devour everything in its wake. How?! He wanted to protest, but he was occupied by the overwhelming desire to scream. He wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go. He wanted to kill the interlopers that defiled his body, bestowed upon him this curse, held his friends hostage, and turned him into the disgusting monster that killed everyone. But he was too weak. It would be a meaningless protest. Right now, he was nothing. He had no power. No allies. No plans. He would only be lashing out to rid himself of this nasty fury and discomfort. Like a child throwing a tantrum. No, he needed to store these emotions. Use it as fuel. If he wanted revenge, then he should have sought to make it more systemic. More intentional. More complete. But the witch robbed him even of the ability to think. Emil could no longer feel the sensations of his body. Like a disembodied mind, he stood there, bathed in unholy flame that ate his body. Then he saw white. *** I don¡¯t recognize this ceiling. Emil opened his eyes to a small, dilapidated room. The low hanging ceiling above looked like patchwork, filled with an odd pattern of fresh and rotten planks. Rain continued to lightly patter against the rooftop. The dim candlelight nearby and the absence of metalwork clanking in the background suggested that it was still night. I¡¯m probably somewhere still in the slums. He sifted through his memories, trying to reconcile with how he ended up here. He remembered limping out of the ruins of the abandoned building amidst the pouring rain. The battle between Nostra and Aois Nua had already ended¡ªthe roads filled with death from the aftermath of the encounter. Emil wasted no time and ran. Undoubtedly, Aois Nua would have been searching for their missing Exalted. What happened after that was a blur. Alarms rose in his head at the blanks in his memory. Emil tried sitting up¡ªonly to be met with an excruciating pain tearing apart his body. He clicked his tongue and laid back down, wincing at the agony. His head suddenly pounded with a raging headache. He lightly tapped his chest¡ªa dull sting radiated at the point of contact. Burns. The costs of using his Gift. This never gets easier to manage, Emil lamented. His ascension into an Exalted was an unusual one. Unlike most Exalted, who either possessed a Gift at birth or underwent a natural Awakening, he obtained his via a transplant. He was the product of an unholy experiment that brought him a second chance at life. And while it granted him a Gift, his body was a vessel ill-suited for his new powers. The result was an Exalted who could not withstand the power of his own Gift. The flames he conjured consumed his flesh. No matter how much the witch trained him to control it, he could never fully eliminate the side-effects. Footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the room. Emil moved his right arm down the length of his body. A knife concealed along his thigh was still there. He hovered his hand over the handle and closed his eyes, pretending to be unconscious. Van did tell me that there¡¯s been a rise in demand for organs on the black market. He smirked at the dark thought. If the person who brought him here had any ill intentions, he must aim to kill. His injuries and fatigue were too excessive for him to hold back. Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re friendly. The door creaked open. Chapter 15 - An unexpected encounter Emil The interloper entered the room. Emil listened closely. The old wooden floor creaked under the weight of their footsteps. They¡¯re alone. He heard something being placed on the table nearby. Emil took a chance and peeked his eyes open. A hooded figure stood across from the room. Their backs were turned, occupied with unloading the items in their arms. The oversized cloak covering their body made it ambiguous who exactly he was dealing with. Emil glanced at the table. He found an assortment of bottles and various miscellaneous items. Scissors and a set of clean bandages amongst the pile. There was a faint astringent stench of alcohol mixed with the fresh scent of wet herbs. He moved his hand away from the knife concealed against his leg. ¡°So, which one of my organs are you planning to harvest first?¡± he suddenly asked. The stranger let out a panicked yip, startled¡ªfumbling as they dropped all the items onto the table at once. Definitely a woman. Or¡­an extremely effeminate man. ¡°H-Harvest organs?! Wha¡ªgosh no, that sounds horrific. Is that what they do here? I would never!¡± the stranger exclaimed. Emil raised an eye. No one who''s a native of Lower Dannan speaks like this. The person spun around, visibly flustered as they brushed away strands of black hair covering their eyes. A girl. Aroound his age. She had features that resembled a doll, pale skin nearly porcelain white, decorated by a pair of emerald eyes glistening under the dim candlelight. Looks like someone¡¯s expensive daughter ran away from home. It was a surprisingly common story¡ªthe estranged daughter of a noble family in Upper Dannan decides that their life at home was too suffocating and makes a rash decision to run away. Someway or another they end up in the slums. Most manage to return home with just a few traumatic experiences under their belt. Some are never seen again. The stranger¡¯s naturally pale skin and her mannerisms were dead giveaways. ¡°If you¡¯re not here to harvest my organs, then what am I doing here?¡± Emil asked, barely hiding his smirk. The young lady blinked, eyeing him with a blank stare, ¡°Oh, do you not remember? You collapsed on the ground near my residence. You were a wet mess. I eventually managed to drag you inside myself.¡± Oh. The vague recollection slowly trickled in. He must have been desperate to find shelter from the rain. In a normal situation, he would have never allowed himself to pass out in the open. It could have gone bad. The slum residents were cut throat. There was a real chance he could have gotten robbed and killed in his sleep. ¡°Sorry,¡± Emil apologized, grimacing at his carelessness, ¡°And thank you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± the young lady smiled before asking a question, ¡°But what happened to you anyways?¡± She glanced down the length of his body. Emil realized that his torso was covered in rags. He had ripped off his chain mail after killing the Aois Nua Exalted. The rest of his clothes were badly singed by his own flames. The remnants were stained with ash and char. Glimpses of his skin peeked out from the gaps, unveiling the glaring blisters and blots of red. ¡°¡­Occupational hazard," he replied. ¡°Huh? You look like you got burned¡­do you work in the mines or workshops then?¡± "Yes, I''m an apprentice blacksmith." Emil responded with a vague smile. ¡°But then why you did end up like this?¡± the young lady frowned, ¡°Were you doing something suspicious? You''ve had to be, I don''t recall the work of blacksmiths being this dangerous.¡± Definitely not a native of the slums. She doesn¡¯t know when to stop prying. ¡°Everyone has a few secrets that can¡¯t be shared,¡± Emil said, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint, ¡°I¡¯m sure you can sympathize.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± she blinked, clearly confused. Emil sighed. Is she seriously oblivious? How did she even survive down here being this na?ve? He decided to clear up her ignorance. It was the least he could do for someone who saved his life.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°First of all, there¡¯s an unspoken rule in the slums to not pry if someone refuses to answer properly the first time. Second, fix your mannerisms and word choice. No one speaks like the way you do down here.¡± The young lady¡¯s pale face burned red. ¡°I¡ª¡± she tried to protest. ¡°Third,¡± Emil stressed, cutting her off, ¡°Only prostitutes have pale skins like yours in the slums. Even then, their faces are caked in powder. If you want to blend in, you should at least smear parts of your face in dirt and charcoal. Slouch a bit as well. Your posture is too straight. And then there¡¯s your eyes¡­¡± Emil frowned. Those pair of emeralds would attract attention no matter the place. ¡°I recommend not making eye contact if possible. And keep your hood on at all times.¡± The young lady immediately pulled her hood over her eyes. ¡°I¡¯ll keep your advice in mind,¡± she whispered, the corners of her mouth quivering. She suddenly turned around and fetched a few bottles she left on the table earlier. ¡°In exchange for your wisdom, please allow me to treat your burns.¡± She enthusiastically uncorked some of the bottles loose. Emil was instantly assaulted by the powerful stench of alcohol. ¡°Put that away,¡± he said, scrunching his face in disgust. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°No offense, but you have no experience treating a burn, do you?¡± The young lady stammered, trying to come with a retort. Emil drove the point home, ¡°Reading stuff from a book doesn¡¯t count.¡± The statement silenced her. ¡°...It¡¯s fine. I appreciate the gesture, but please do what I say instead,¡± he then asked, ¡°Do you have any ointment?¡± The young lady approached him with another assortment of bottles. Emil narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized the containers, fighting the urge to sigh. Of course, none of them are labelled. He isolated the ones that were colorless and took a whiff. Two of them produced no odors. He then dabbed his tongue on the edges of both. ¡°This is aloe vera.¡± He motioned towards the ointment with a bitter taste. He tried to sit up, and then promptly gave up. Pain rippled down the length of his body, protesting with vengeance. His limbs refused to move¡ªfighting back with an agonizing shock each time he tried to force it. ¡°Please, let me help,¡± the young lady insisted as she made Emil lay back down, ¡°What do I need to do?¡± ¡°¡­Smear it across the red areas. Avoid any blisters.¡± She nodded and got to work. After rolling up her sleeves, she reached her pristine hands into the bottle. Then as gently as she could muster, she lifted the rags off his chest and began to spread the ointment. Silence settled in. Light rain continued to patter against the roof. Emil stared at the walls, trying not to distract the young lady¡¯s work. She wore a scowl; her lips pulsed, eyes furrowed, deep in concentration. Frankly, this was a bizarre situation, even for him. Getting his burns treated by a runaway noble was definitely an uncommon experience. ¡°¡­Doesn¡¯t it hurt?¡± she suddenly asked. ¡°Not at all,¡± he replied curtly. That earned him a glare. The young lady narrowed her eyes, obviously unconvinced. Emil sighed, ¡°I¡¯m used to it. This isn¡¯t the first time it¡¯s happened. The pain is manageable so far. Or perhaps enough of my nerves have been burned away? Either way, you haven¡¯t caused me any discomfort.¡± With that, the young lady resumed her treatment. A thought settled in Emil¡¯s head. This is a rare opportunity. It wasn¡¯t everyday that he got to speak so intimately with someone of noble heritage. A connection with a noble never hurt anyone. Especially if he ever decided to escape Steiger¡¯s grasp. ¡°I¡¯m Miles, by the way. How about yourself?¡± The young lady remained silent. Then, after a minute, she finally replied, ¡°¡­I''m Lisha.¡± You might have as well just told me it was a fake name. Emil rolled his eyes. Well, not like I¡¯m any better. ¡°Well then, Lisha, thank you for everything you¡¯re doing. There¡¯s not much I can offer you, but is there anything I can do to repay this?¡± he asked. He wasn¡¯t na?ve. He had experienced enough to know that ¡°kindness¡± did not come without strings attached. Lisha paused to stare at him. ¡°Hm? Do I need a reason to help someone out?¡± she said, tilting her head. The remark made Emil hold his breath. Lisha must have noticed his strange reaction. ¡°But if you insist¡­¡± Her opulent green eyes glimmered under the dim light. For the first time since their encounter, Lisha wore a faint smile. ¡°¡­If we ever encounter each other again, please treat me to a meal.¡± *** Shortly after the treatment was done, Emil fell asleep to the pattering rain. When he finally woke up the next day at noon, Lisha was gone. A note was left for him on the table along with a platter of food. Did she just assume that I¡¯m literate? He grinned at her naivety as he read the note. The message was short and concise, wishing him well and a swift recovery. Emil folded the note neatly and stashed it in his pockets. Feeling peckish, he turned towards the meal laid out for him. He took a bite. The lightly salted flavors danced in his mouth. Tears suddenly clouded his eyes. ¡°Do I need a reason to help someone out?¡± Lisha¡¯s words echoed in his head. Caught off guard, Emil scrunched his face, desperate to not let the waterworks pour. He couldn¡¯t remember the last time that a stranger showed him kindness without an agenda. Before his parents¡¯ deaths, he was the son of a merchant family who lived in a world dominated by transactions. After that, he became an orphan in a nation where orphans were despised. And even now, he was an unwilling dog of Steiger. For the first time in his wretched life, he received a small helping hand. The plate was suddenly empty. Emil sat there, indulging in this rare moment of warmth. Once the novelty wore off, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reminded himself why he was here in the first place. He was in the slums, undercover as Nostra bodyguard, trying to find a stolen cache of Azurite. The kingdom''s stability was at risk. A treasure trove of medicine for Raz on the line, contingent on his success. Alright, enough of that. When he opened his eyes again, his hopeful glint disappeared. Once more, he donned the mask of a Steiger Cleaner. Chapter 16 - Red banquet Emil Evening arrived. Like clockwork, Emil entered the watering hole. The fate of last night''s delivery was heavy on his mind. The old, rotten flooring of the dilapidated establishment creaked as he teetered forward, trudging with a slight limp from last night¡¯s injuries. Caiside was at the front of the bar as usual¡ªhead down, occupied with cleaning a used cup. The sound of Emil''s approach prompted him to look up. ¡°Miles?! You¡¯re alive!¡± Caiside exclaimed as his eyes instantly lit up. A few of Baer¡¯s henchmen posing as patrons also stood up to greet him. ¡°Well, barely,¡± Emil grimaced in pain as he dragged himself onto the closest seat. Without being asked, Caiside immediately began mixing one of his signature drinks. Something alcoholic would be quite helpful right now. He needed it. Something to dull his senses and numb the throbbing aches pulsating through his body. ¡°You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you alive. I¡¯ll let you tell your story later. Baer would be dying to hear how you survived Aois Nua¡¯s Exalted,¡± Caiside said while rummaging through the bar inventory for a specific bottle. ¡°How many did we lose from the ambush?¡± Emil asked. His question was met with silence. The henchmen around him lowered their heads, suddenly sullen. Caiside continued to work¡ªthe somber air filled with just the echoes of glasses being stirred and bottles being uncorked. ¡°There were some casualties,¡± he finally said as he set two glasses topped with drinks on the countertop, ¡°But things could have been much worse if it weren''t for your sacrifices. You kept the Exalted away and you dealt with the arbalists, didn¡¯t you? Your actions didn¡¯t go unnoticed Miles. We¡¯re grateful. Decim is sure to award you nicely.¡± Caiside raised his glass. Emil returned the gesture. A dull clink rang through the air. He downed the cocktail, drinking greedily, taken in by the somber mood. A subtle buzz danced on his tongue. His head felt light. The injuries that were tormenting him grew somewhat bearable. He finally felt comfortable enough to ask the burning question that¡¯s been gnawing the back of his mind. ¡°What about the delivery?¡± *** ¡°Miles, you¡¯re one crazy bastard!¡± Baer¡¯s voice boomed in his ears, ¡°Hahaha! I thought you were a goner for sure!¡± Emil winced as Baer repeatedly slapped the back of his shoulder. For some reason, brawny men like him had an annoying tendency to show admiration through violence. ¡°Baer, he¡¯s injured,¡± Caiside said. Baer immediately withdrew his hands, smiling awkwardly as he realized his mistake. ¡°S-Sorry. Force of habit,¡± he coughed into his fists in a vain attempt to regain some semblance of dignity. He suddenly lowered his head in a reverent bow. The rest of his henchmen followed suit. ¡°Thank you, Miles. If you hadn¡¯t pushed that Exalted away, a lot of us here would probably be dead.¡± Why are they doing this? Emil smiled uneasily, startled by the sudden display of gratitude. Mixed emotions bloomed in his chest. His insides churned at the revolting thought of being thanked by a members of a syndicate. His heart thumped with joy at being shown gratitude after putting his body on the line. His mind grappled with guilt for being jubilant over something trivial. You¡¯re undercover. Your goal is to locate the Azurite, not save a bunch of criminal''s lives. The cold reminder silenced his turbulent thoughts. ¡°Well, I was just doing my job,¡± he said with a practiced indifference, true to his cover. Emil spun up a story of how he evaded the Aois Nua Exalted as the group made their way towards the auditorium. Decim had apparently called for a meeting. The status of the real delivery was still unknown¡ªlikely the announcement was to be made tonight. Emil still had no idea if his gut feelings were correct. The ambiguity weighed on his mind like a festering itch that refused to dissipate no matter how hard he scratched. Soon, they arrived at Decim¡¯s office. This time the subterranean chamber was already crowded. Emil squinted his eyes at the blinding chandeliers above. The dazzling lights were just one of the many pieces of decoration that weren''t there during their last visit. An array of dining tables had also been set up in the open area before the stage, the tabletop already adorned with plates and utensils. Excited clatters filled the air. ¡°Who are they?¡± he asked, confused by the plethora of unfamiliar faces. ¡°Members of Nostra,¡± Caiside said after scanning the crowd, ¡°They¡¯re all from the latest cohort of recruits who joined before you arrived.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Caiside shrugged. ¡°Decim must be in a celebratory mood. He has a penchant for extravagance whatever something goes well. I guess that means the delivery that we were the decoy for was successful.¡± Their group was led towards an empty table by the right end of the auditorium. Boisterous conversation hollered in the air, filled with anticipation for what Decim had planned for the night. All of it fell on deaf ears. Emil couldn¡¯t focus. His back buzzed with heat. His mind adrift, detached from the ongoing celebrations happening around him. The chandeliers above suddenly felt nauseatingly bright. He took a seat, nodding as Baer rambled on about something beside him¡ªfighting to keep his inner turmoil hidden within.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡­Did I mess up? Was the decoy mission not a test? He felt sick. The lights in the auditorium suddenly went off. Amidst the darkness, the excitement was snuffed out, until a single source of light illuminated the stage. A set of footsteps resounded against the hard wood. Decim strolled into the limelight with a brilliant smile plastered across his face, absent of his usual languidness. ¡°Gentlemen! I am Decim, an executive of the glorious Nostra syndicate. On my behalf, I welcome you to the family!¡± Cheers and claps resounded across the auditorium. After a minute of feverish excitement, Decim beckoned for the crowd to quiet down. ¡°All of you have worked tirelessly for the last few days, adhering to my unreasonable requests without complaint! In honor of your efforts and success, I invite you to this bountiful feast!¡± Decim clapped his hands. The lights before stage flashed on, brightening the dining tables in lavish colors. Food arrived in platters from the backrooms, carried by men donned in a servant gown. Wine was being served by the barrels as cups clinked across the venue in celebration. Emil stared at the food. The meaty stench made his head spin as he was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to puke. ¡°What¡¯s wrong, Miles?¡± Caiside asked, concerned. He shook his head. The nausea made it difficult to think. His thoughts spiraled with the possibility of failing his mission. ¡°Is the food not to your liking?¡± The question slithered into his ears. It came from Decim. The Nostra executive was making his rounds around the tables. ¡°I¡ª¡± Emil winced. Headaches ravaged his skull as he struggled to come up with an excuse. ¡°¡­I think his injuries are still bothering him, sir,¡± Baer joined in to help. Decim gave a curt nod. ¡°Well, it¡¯s fine. Don¡¯t feel pressured to partake. Just make yourself comfortable,¡± he said, ¡°It is a celebration after all.¡± The hairs on Emil¡¯s back suddenly rose. Alarms blared in his head as he caught a glimpse of Decim''s mouth curve into his signature conniving smirk. Twenty minutes passed when Decim returned to the stage. By now, the auditorium was crowded with drunk Nostra members slumped in their seats, basking in the joy of an exquisite meal. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re all enjoying this banquet I¡¯ve prepared,¡± Decim said to the accompaniment of drunken cheers, ¡°I wanted to take this time to highlight some of our recent successes. Over the last few days, I¡¯ve asked nearly all of you to partake in some sort of mission despite the declining the stability of the slums. Escorting a delivery, negotiating a deal, collecting a shipment, amongst many others.¡± He suddenly paused. His head scanned the crowd. Emil stared at him, watching closely as his hospitable smile suddenly grew sinister. The eyes that were gleaming in celebratory joy instantly turned cold and detached. ¡°During that period of time, I¡¯ve found at least ten instances of sensitive information being leaked to our rival syndicates.¡± His proclamation echoed like thunder. Silence suffocated the auditorium. Confusion rippled across the tables. Eyes widened. Mouths agape. ¡°Tell me,¡± Decim demanded, his eyes dancing with madness, ¡°Just what could this possibly mean?¡± His question cut through the air. No one dared to utter a word. Then suddenly, a glass shattered against floor. Someone collapsed from their chair, flopping onto the ground with a heavy thud. Without warning, their body began to convulse. Their face writhed in agony. Pained rasps escaped their mouth before a profusion of dark blood forced its way out. They weren¡¯t alone. Another person dropped to the floor as well, tormented by the same symptoms. The strange affliction spread like a plague. Within seconds, almost the entirety of the auditorium was infected. What the hell is going on? Emil spun towards the stage. Decim was watching the scene unfold with a crazed, insidious delight as if he was observing a spectacle amongst animals. The realization dawned on him. It¡¯s the food. He turned to the people seated at his table. Shockingly, each one of them was fine¡ªonly disturbed by the hell descending around them. ¡°There''s only one explanation¡ªthere are traitors lurking in these seats,¡± Decim declared with his hands outstretched, ¡°And it''s only fitting that traitors deserve the most painful of deaths!¡± ¡°Decim! You bastard!¡± Several Nostra members rose from their seats. Their bodies staggered, eyes bloodshot, mouth drooling with dark scarlet spittle. Forcing themselves to move, they charged at Decim with a frantic desperation. ¡°Oh, please.¡± Decim snapped his fingers. Blood drops that stained the floor suddenly surged into the air. They gathered together and solidified into sharp tendrils. In a blink of an eye, they exploded outwards, skewering the rebelling Nostra members. Gradually, the auditorium grew silent. The cacophony of suffering ceased as those afflicted croaked their last gasp of life. Emil stared at the aftermath in disbelief. Hell was an apt description for the insanity before his eyes. A crowd of over a hundred boisterous Nostra men was reduced to a bloodbath of corpses. The bodies were sprawled along the ground, draped over chairs, or laid toppled against the tables. Tortured expressions were permanently etched on their faces¡ªa sign of the agony suffered in their final moments. Right, this is a syndicate. The callous reminder poured over his head like frigid waters. The brotherhood of Baer¡¯s cadre made him forget, but this level of cruelty was not atypical amongst the gangs of the slums. Thud. Thud. Thud. Decim¡¯s footsteps thundered across the silent stage. Slowly, he took a seat by the edge. His mouth widened into a maddening grin as his eyes fell on Baer¡¯s group. Emil realized they were the only ones still alive. Suddenly, the people by his table all stood up and kneeled in reverence. He quickly joined. ¡°Congratulations. You were the only group who didn¡¯t leak any information and fulfilled their mission till the very end. As expected, this group was the most trustworthy.¡± ¡°Sir...¡± Baer spoke up. His voice was trembling. "If I may ask, what is the meaning of this?¡± ¡°Of course, my dear Baer,¡± Decim said condescendingly, ¡°I gave everyone under my direct control a test of loyalty. That was your mission last night. In truth, there was no actual delivery. I was examining how you lot would act. Would you falter in a dire situation? Would cowardice seize you at death¡¯s door? Would you be tempted by greed? Or did your allegiance lie elsewhere in the first place? Those were the questions I sought to answer out of every group in attendance today.¡± Decim beckoned at the crowd of corpses. ¡°The dead here were amongst groups that failed the test.¡± Emil shuddered, awash with a mixture of revolt and relief. I knew it. His gut feelings hadn''t been wrong. Last night''s mission was no more than a farce. ¡°But was it necessary to kill all of them?¡± Caiside added, ¡°Perhaps I''m wrong, but I sincerely doubt all of them were disloyal.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not wrong, Caiside. If I were to give an estimate, there were probably five to ten rats at most,¡± Decim said, eyeing the Nostra members that were skewered by his Gift, ¡°But well, identifying who the exact traitors were would have been a monumental effort. I don¡¯t have the time nor do I possess the means. And frankly, none of those dead are irreplaceable. There¡¯s plenty of rabble to scour from the slums.¡± Still, what a reckless way to eliminate traitors. Emil frowned. If he had leaked the information to Steiger, then perhaps he, along with Baer and Caiside, would have also been lying dead on the ground tonight. Decim suddenly clapped his hands, ¡°Now that the traitors have been cleaned up, it''s time for the actual main event of the night. We have a job to do. An actual job this time. One that requires the utmost secrecy.¡± He waved them over, beckoning them to climb onto the stage. Emil followed alongside Baer and his henchmen, careful to not step on the disturbing gore littered along the floor. ¡°I¡¯m sure the bloody spectacle was a feast for your eyes,¡± Decim exclaimed, giggling with glee, ¡°Hopefully all of the excitement was enough to wake you from your drunken daze.¡± Chapter 17 - A fool with a misplaced sense of justice Emil Decim opened a hidden hatch located to the left of backstage. How many hidden doors are in this damned place? Emil took a deep breath, readying himself for another adventure down a claustrophobic passage. Baer¡¯s men were already dropping into the hidden opening unprompted. A steel ladder led the way down into a lightless abyss. Emil lowered himself in, grabbing tightly onto the ladder rungs as he began his treacherous descent. The walls around him were absurdly narrow. Emil was hardly the biggest person around, and even he could barely stretch his elbow outwards without touching stone. He had no idea how Baer would fit. Dank, moldy musk clung by the walls. Claustrophobia began to gnaw at his sanity. The darkness only exacerbated his fear. Emil swallowed nervously. Sweat drenched his palms. He could feel the panic rising to his chest, begging to explode. Don¡¯t make a fuss, dammit. He bit on the side of his lips until a vague taste of iron caressed his tongue. The accompanying pain helped distract from this wretched scenario of being cramped underground with a bunch of criminals. After an oppressive eternity, he finally stepped on solid ground. His legs, shaky from the descent, wobbled as he took a second to adjust his balance. The bottom of the ladder was pitch-black. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of the Nostra members directly in front of him from the vestiges of light leaking from above. Once his senses settled, he found himself assaulted by a putrid stench. The foul miasma hung in the air, heavy and concentrated, seemingly permeating the entirety of the space around them. Emil grimaced. Where the hell are we? ¡°Anyone got a torch or something? Or are we all just going to stand here and look at each other in the darkness?¡± Decim¡¯s voice resounded behind him. There was a frantic shuffling of clothes and hands, before several lights came alive. Emil squinted from the sudden brightness. They were inside what appeared to be a cavern, flanked on all sides by earth and stone. ¡°Whoever¡¯s in the lead, keep to the left. Don¡¯t stop until you reach the end of the corridor.¡± The group moved in accordance to Decim¡¯s instructions. Once they arrived at the end of the corridor, they found a massive wagon. Atop of it was a pile of luminous stone, radiating a subtle cerulean blue. Specks of azure bounced off its surface, flickering, lingering in the air amidst the torches¡¯ dim flames. Shrouded by darkness, the ethereal spectacle was breathtaking. Emil nearly gasped. No way. It¡¯s here! ¡°Gentlemen, the most coveted ore in this nation. The source of the nobility¡¯s stifle. The makers of the royal family¡¯s fortune. And the fuel behind the Exalted¡¯s powers,¡± Decim declared, admiring the otherworldly stone with trembling eyes, ¡°This is Azurite, the ore that stores mana.¡± His words echoed in the air. Emil tried to control his excitement. The highly concentrated mana in the air was intoxicating. His body soon settled into a trance-like state, drunk on the feeling of tranquility bestowed in the presence of the stone. He never seen Azurite in this quantity before it. His mind felt light, powerful, as if he was imbued with authority. ¡°¡­This is what Steiger was looking for, wasn¡¯t it? We had it this entire time?¡± Caiside asked in awe. ¡°Yes. It was stolen from them by another Nostra executive with some help from our client. The surviving members from that raid were the ones who served you dinner tonight,¡± Decim explained, ¡°Aside from them, only you and the executives know about this. If word got out that Nostra was the one who stole the Azurite, Steiger would have teared our syndicate apart.¡± ¡°Why take such a risky job?¡± Emil asked, unable to hide his curiosity. ¡°Money, of course. Our client gave us a hefty commission to process and purify this cache, along with a small portion of the Azurite. The assets gained from this job would allow us to finally break the three-way gridlock between us, Grenze, and Aois Nua. The day when Nostra rules the entirety of the slums is just on the horizon," Decim explained, "But personally, I took on the job because I¡¯m an Exalted. For us, Azurite is our lifeline. Without it, we¡¯re no different than regular Ordinaries, except burdened with the knowledge that we could be so much more.¡± Emil nodded. He could understand Decim¡¯s sentiment to a degree. Stripping an Exalted of their Gift was like cutting off the wings of a bird. It was the source of their identity, their joy, and the very essence of their being. Most Exalted who become deprived of their Gifts usually went insane over time. Some quickly resorted to suicide to free themselves from the feeling of loss. Others would commit the most heinous of crimes to obtain a single fragment of Azurite, abandoning everything just to feel the rush of their otherworldly powers once more. For the Exalted, Azurite was a more potent drug than anything the syndicates could procure. ¡°Well, that¡¯s enough talk. It¡¯s time to work,¡± Decim ordered the members closest to the wagon to grab it, ¡°Our client expects a timely delivery. They will be meeting us at the destination. Torch bearers will be on the perimeter. Baer and Caiside will bring up the rear. Miles and I will remain on the vanguard.¡± *** The delivery is happening tonight. The thought boomed in Emil¡¯s head as he advanced down the dark passageway. Decim hadn¡¯t revealed where they were going, only delivering short bursts of instructions each time there was a split in the path. The meandering routes were nauseating to navigate¡ªthe absence of light and lack of distinct landmarks made these networks of tunnel feel like a labyrinth. Everything was beginning to look the same, morphed into same amalgamation of earth and stone. Emil already gave up trying to keep track of their positions. However, now that he confirmed Nostra had the Azurite, he needed a way to communicate its location to Steiger. I didn¡¯t get a chance to report with Van last night. He frowned at the timing of the events. His fight against the Aois Nua Exalted had taken him out of commission for most of the day. Everything was unfolding too fast. I have to create a signal once we¡¯re back on ground level, and hope that another agent is close by to see it. ¡°Take a left.¡± Emil obeyed, rounding the bend of the corner. His torch suddenly flickered, the flames wavering with a loud whoosh. There was faint breeze against his skin. He could hear the sounds of water running nearby. Where the hell are we? He paused, squinting his eyes to strain out the faint vestiges of the underground tunnels. ¡°It¡¯s fine, Miles. Keep going,¡± Decim insisted, pushing him forward. The end of the bend led to a wide subterranean chamber. The source of the pervasive stench suddenly became clear. In front of him was a large trough, about fifty meters wide, filled to the brim with viscous goo. Trash, wooden planks, fragments of miscellaneous items were scattered about, partially submerged in the foul mixture, still flowing downstream.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. They were atop of a concrete platform. Across the trough on the other side was a similar structure. From the torches¡¯ light, Emil could make out a series of passageways along the walls similar to the one they had just arrived from. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°Sewers. It¡¯s a conduit for carrying waste and water. Especially useful during periods of intense rain to contain flooding,¡± Decim explained, ¡°They date back to Ardair¡¯s founding. Currently, they¡¯re abandoned.¡± Does the witch know about this? The endless branching paths made his head spin. Mapping out and navigating this underground system must have been a herculean task. This must be how the syndicates managed to evade Steiger¡¯s eyes. ¡°You¡¯re telling me someone built this?¡± Emil glanced at the ceiling. They must have been several dozen meters underground. This wide conduit and concrete structure seemed to stretch endlessly into the abyss. ¡°This labyrinth sprawls the entirety of the Lower Dannan slums. Impressive, isn¡¯t it? Too bad the royal family has no interest in it,¡± Decim said with a wicked smile, ¡°The original founders of this land were architects. Builders. Visionaries. When Azurite was discovered in the mines in the northern mountains, however, those builders abandoned their creativity in exchange for pickaxes. Rather than hone their craft, they became obsessed with the arcane.¡± ¡°Sounds like they carried that obsession through time,¡± Emil commented, ¡°Dannan¡¯s industrial district has the best builders in Ardair, and I doubt any of them could even fathom something like this.¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t blame them. Who wouldn¡¯t be fascinated with the thought of weaving the elements with their will? You¡¯ll understand if you ever have the fortune to awaken a Gift, Miles. This sensation is enthralling,¡± Decim said, his voice quivered with glee, ¡°Power courses through your veins. Phenomena bends at your fingertips. You feel like a God amongst men.¡± Oh, I understand plenty. Emil sneered. For once, he was glad that he was at the vanguard where his expression couldn¡¯t be seen. A dull pain buzzed from his burns as he walked¡ªa constant reminder of his defective status. For him, this Gift was both a blessing and a curse. ¡°Alright, stay vigilant now. We¡¯re not the only ones using these sewers. Grenze and Aois Nua roam these tunnels as well.¡± The ensuing silence was suffocating. Emil kept his eyes peeled, scanning the vicinity for any abnormalities. The flames of his torch flickered with every hint of a breeze. The stream of sewage continued to flow downstream beside him¡ªthe sound of water flowing a constant cacophony. Footsteps of the group echoed across the labyrinth. The massive wagon transporting the heavy cache of Azurite creaked with every bump and drop in the concrete. Emil winced, scrutinizing every passageway they came across. If there were enemies in the area, they would have definitely heard their approach. This is nauseating. The stench was overpowering. Sweat poured down his back. His attention was strained to its limits as he struggled to keep track of all the miscellaneous sounds and movements in the surrounding. Thunk! Emil spun to the side and immediately raised his shield towards the direction of the sound. A barrage of iron bolts bounced off the metal surface with dissonant clanks. The voracity of the attack startled him as he staggered backwards. ¡°On the left! Arbalist!¡± he shouted. A group of enemies emerged from one of the passages ten meters ahead. The wagon grinded to a halt as Nostra members on the perimeter readied for combat. Decim brandished a knife. With a quick swipe, he made a clean incision on his hands. Blood poured from the open wound. He instantly snapped his fingers, seizing control of dripping blood and morphing it into thin needles. After a wave of his hands, the blood needles flew, burying themselves in the bodies of the interlopers. The labyrinth fell silent. The confrontation barely lasted a few seconds. ¡°Miles, you alright?¡± Decim asked with narrowed eyes, ¡°Do I need to move you to the back?¡± Emil was heaving loudly. The injuries from last night continued to be a source of discomfort. ¡°¡­No. I¡¯m fine. My senses are still sharp,¡± he replied before resuming his position as the vanguard. Small skirmishes continued to occur sporadically each time they bypassed one of the passageways branching along the walls. A few of Baer''s men fell in combat. Decim callously ordered them to be abandoned, much to Baer''s dismay. They couldn''t afford to stop. Their journey lasted for another hour. ¡°Turn left. We¡¯re almost here,¡± Decim said. Emil obliged. Eventually, he found a ladder and makeshift elevator at the end of the corridor. This must be the spot. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tension had stretched his mind like a taut rope. Finally, he could relax and freed his senses from being on constant alert. ¡°Load the Azurite onto the platform in chunks. Emil and Baer, remain on standby until everything is lifted up to the surface. Caiside, you¡¯re in charge of making things run smoothly,¡± Decim quickly delegated tasks before ascending the ladder. Baer¡¯s men immediately got to work, carrying fragments of the Azurite onto the wooden platform under Caiside¡¯s orderly commands. Now I need to find an opportunity to make a signal. Emil took another deep exhale to quell his frazzled nerves. This dreadful night was just beginning. *** Emil climbed to the top of the ladders. Finally, he could escape the headache-inducing stank of the underground sewers. As he reached the surface, he immediately noticed the sharp ferric tang in the air. The faint groan of steam-powered machinery hummed in the background. The ambient temperature was absurdly hot, like he had stepped into a center of a fire pit. ¡°Good work, Miles,¡± Decim was there to greet him. ¡°Where are we?¡± Emil asked, taking in the sight, awed of the massive machineries moving about. ¡°A Nostra processing facility,¡± Decim said, smirking, ¡°Looks familiar? Drugs and prostitutes aren¡¯t our only sources of business. As residents of Lower Dannan, it¡¯ll be foolish not to be involved with metallurgy and metalworking in some capacity.¡± Is this somewhere in the industrial district then? On Emil¡¯s right was an array of blast furnaces. Flames crackled from within, producing plumes of ashen smoke that bellowed to the ceiling. The occasional clink of hammers resounded nearby. There are laborers still working at this hour? It was almost midnight when they left Decim¡¯s auditorium. No matter how outrageous their work ethic was, the workers of Lower Dannan were still human. Curious, Emil stepped closer into the workshop section of the facility. His eyes widened in horror. The laborers were there, standing hunched back, lifting hammers wielded by their scrawny arms. Their bodies were thin, nearly skin and bones. Their taut skin was smeared in ash and soot. Their eyes were blank, worn by fatigue, decorated by heavy bags clouding beneath their lifeless gazes. Children. The workers of this Nostra facility were all children. ¡°Move!¡± Emil turned to the source of the voice. An adult male suddenly shoved one of the children to the ground. The boy, who looked barely ten years old, laid pitifully on the floor. ¡°I said move, dammit!¡± The boy remained unresponsive¡ªhis eyes were wide open, blankly staring off into the distance, but his body was frozen still. ¡°Get him out of here!¡± the overseer roared as a pair of Nostra members emerged to drag the poor boy out of the workshop. Emil watched the scene unfold in disbelief. His insides churned. It took every ounce of willpower to stop himself from rushing to the overseer and tear his throat apart. ¡°Miles, what are you doing?¡± Decim suddenly asked. Emil spun around. Before he realized it, his hands were on Decim¡¯s collars. ¡°What is the meaning of this?!¡± he screamed. The sound of his voice travelled far along the resonant walls of the facility. Footsteps stomped close as he was instantly surrounded by Baer¡¯s henchmen. ¡°This?¡± Decim raised an eye, unfazed by his hostility. Then suddenly, he sighed. ¡°Ah, I see what this is about.¡± Decim fell silent, calmly brushing away the stray hairs covering eyes. Emil blinked. Without warning, a fist torn into his chest. The strike flung him backwards. Thunk! Warm steel slammed into his back. He slumped against the ground, head rattling from the devastating blow. How did I not see the attack? His lungs were ablaze as he gasped for air from the sucker punch. Decim¡¯s voice echoed from above. ¡°You know what I hate the most? Fools with a misplaced sense of justice. Unfortunately, I had a feeling you would be one of them, Miles. I saw it in your eyes when I took you to those whores on the block on your first day. There was pity. Empathy. Anger.¡± Decim grabbed him by the top of his hair. Emil grimaced at the scalding pain. His scalp felt like it was being pried apart. ¡°Maybe you forgot because you were fortunate enough to leave the slums, but here¡¯s what you ¡®normal¡¯ folks don¡¯t understand. This place is a shit hole. These children and those whores you saw before¡ªthey chose to be here. Because the only other option is to die a slow, agonizing death in a ditch somewhere as the crows peck at your lifeless body,¡± Decim spat. His glacial eyes were filled with disgust. ¡°Lock him up somewhere. Make sure he doesn¡¯t do anything stupid while the clients are here. I¡¯ll deal with this later.¡± Decim stomped away. The rest of his men approached Emil with apprehension, grabbing his limbs to make sure he couldn¡¯t resist. Emil glared at Decim¡¯s fading back. His heart raged with indignation. Chapter 18 - Wretched moonlight Emil He leaned back. The kiss of cold steel scraped his shoulders. Emil found himself locked behind bars, confined in some backroom away from the machineries and fiery furnaces of the facility. Night crept in from a small window just outside of his cell. Rain clouds from the previous day had completely cleared. The moon was out in full bloom tonight, casting a pale, ethereal glare into the room. Emil bathed in the lunar glow, sulking in shame. His cheeks burned with humiliation. What the hell am I doing? Every ounce of trust that he painstakingly gained, every atrocity that he overlooked as part of his cover¡ªall of it was instantly destroyed by a single emotional outburst. He should have never allowed himself to get so upset, much less lay his hands on Decim. The sight of the children in the workshop working in those deplorable conditions, however, had snapped something within him. Those were all orphans. Emil wanted to believe that no parent would ever subject their kin to such a deplorable life. Unless they were desperate for cash. Unless they were depraved. Unless they were selfish, pathetic, despicable bastards who only cared for themselves¡ª Enough. He wasn¡¯t na?ve. He¡¯s seen enough to understand that the limits of human depravity went far deeper than what the average person could fathom. To be an orphan in Ardair was to live a life worst than livestock. They were treated like ghosts under the words of the law and as vile pests under the gaze of the fortunate. In this rotten kingdom, the most vulnerable were the least protected. Decim was not wrong. For most orphans, being enslaved to work in this wretched factory was their best option. Mia and Raz flashed in his mind. Emil clenched his teeth, reminding himself why he was here. It¡¯s so that I never have to see them in those children¡¯s place. Just the mere thought of them with weathered eyes and charred skin, shriveled up by fatigue and malnutrition, whipped into work by those goddamn overseers made his chest scream. He let out a sullen breath and considered his next moves. In some ways, being locked up here gave him an opportunity. He was isolated, far away from where Decim, the most dangerous person in the facility, was operating. Only two of Baer¡¯s henchmen were assigned to monitor him. They were nonchalant, distracted, and tired from the long night. The small window just outside of his cell provided ample space to broadcast his distress signal. He had been stripped of his knife and cleaver prior to being confined, but what of it? His body, honed over the years by the damn witch¡¯s teachings, sufficed as a deadly weapon on its own. All that mattered was the Azurite necklace still dangling over his chest. It was time to work. Emil limped towards the barred doors. The metallic bars were caked in a layer of rust. He squinched up his face, feigning a pitiful and haggard look. ¡°H-Hey, brothers,¡± his voice came out as a whimper. He hunched his back, squeezing his chest, holding his stomach as if still reeling in pain from Decim¡¯s earlier blow. Baer¡¯s henchmen roused from their stupor. ¡°Miles? What¡¯s up?¡± They walked up towards the cell. ¡°Sorry for my outburst earlier,¡± he dipped his head, sounding as apologetic as his voice could allow, ¡°If you¡¯re able, I like to ask for a flavor.¡± The two henchmen blinked at each other. ¡°Y-Yeah. Maybe. What do you need?¡± they asked, stepping closer to the door. Suddenly, they were within range. Emil dug his foot into the ground and lunged. A flicker of azure flared across his body. His shoulder, reinforced with Mana Arts, barreled into the cell doors. Weakened by rust, the bars instantly caved as they broke apart from the door frame with minimal resistance. Freed from his confinement, Emil immediately thrusted his arms out before the henchmen could process what just happened. Like a snake, his fingers coiled around their necks with an inhuman strength. They didn''t even have time to scream. A disturbing crunch softly echoed across the silent room. The henchmen''s bodies suddenly grew limp. Life was squeezed out of them with astonishing ease as Emil brutally crushed their throats. After confirming their deaths, he released his grip. The two dead men flopped to the ground with a thud. Emil didn''t spare them a second glance as he rushed towards the window. I should hurry. The kills were quiet enough, but the clatter of the rusted bars striking the floor was louder than he expected. There was no way to know if anyone heard the sound. He took out his necklace and cradled the small fragment of purified Azurite dangling at the end. He closed his eyes while letting out a deep breath. The mana dwelling inside the stone suddenly spiraled with violence as he forcefully exerted his will over the ethereal matter. He compressed it¡ªsqueezing, wrapping, and then squeezing again until a portion of the mana was concentrated into a singular point. Then he let out it loose. The pressurized mana spontaneously surged out of the Azurite, producing a thin cerulean beam that shot off into the distance. The light lasted for just a second. Emil repeated the same process again. The result was a stream of blue light flickering on and off above the night skies. Please see this. He desperately prayed, hoping that a Steiger patrol might be nearby. It was a race against time between whether Steiger or Nostra finds him first. ¡°Miles?¡± Fuck. Emil winced. It was Caiside and Baer. The two emerged from the darkness of the facility, their eyes furrowed with a look of confusion. They haven¡¯t seen the corpses yet. Emil stared at them, unmoving. There was nothing he could do now. Cerulean light continued to flicker from the Azurite in his hands. Then he saw it. Caiside and Baer¡¯s expressions suddenly warped. Shock. Disbelief. Grief. Disgust. Anger. Rage. The full spectrum of emotions cascaded across their faces in a split second. ¡°Miles! What the hell is the meaning of this?!¡± Baer roared. His eyes grew murderous. Tears streamed down his face. Like a savage beast, he stomped towards him. ¡°Answer me!¡± Emil fought the urge to look away. Baer¡¯s fury clawed at his heart. I really hate this part of the job. As much as he loathed to admit it, he felt a semblance of comradery for these two. How many times have I seen this now? The shock. The anger. The despairing gaze of betrayal etched on his former companions¡¯ faces once they discovered his treachery. It never got easier to deal with.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Meaning?¡± Emil asked, his voice nearly a whisper. He forced himself to laugh. It truly was an absurd situation. Why did he, someone who was supposedly working against the bad guys, feel like a villain? Nevertheless, he did what he always did. With a vicious sneer, he donned the mask of a cruel, indifferent Cleaner, covering the guilt lingering in his gaze with a fresh layer of hatred. He thought about the women of the slums who were forced to sell their body to make a living. He imagined the laborers of the industrial district who were exploited for their exhaustion into a lifetime of addiction. He remembered the orphans who were left with no choice but to enslave away in this facility just for a chance to survive another day. Slowly, he released all the vitriol and disgust that he had been suppressing. ¡°There isn¡¯t a meaning, Baer. It¡¯s exactly as you see it,¡± Emil hissed, his voice dripping with villainy, ¡°I killed them. Because they were in my way.¡± *** Decim The cache of Azurite glowed brightly beneath the vestiges of the pale moonlight. The stones were stored in one of the small, inconspicuous rooms by the rear of the facility that masqueraded as an unused compartment. Decim stared at the vibrant stone, admiring its ethereal glow as he waited for his clients to arrive. A side of him was reluctant to part with the Azurite. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Never again would he see another pile of this size. With this inventory, Nostra could rise to new heights by recruiting more Exalted into their ranks. They had the cash to compete against the salaries paid by the noble houses. All that they lacked was a supply of Azurite, a predicament that was solved completely by this cache. Am I being too greedy? Or are the other executives lacking in ambition? Decim frowned. Although this was a job brought to them by their clients, he thought the other executives had been too willing to part with this opportunity. They should have negotiated further to land their hands a bigger portion of the spoils. It¡¯s possible that they¡¯re being overly deferential. Their client was apparently a bigshot within the underworld of Ardair. Besides their abundance of wealth, rumor has it that all of their members were Exalted. Yet despite their powers, they were annoyingly discrete and enigmatic, making their presence only known to a select few. Collectively, they were known as Vigil. There was movement outside of his room. ¡°Sir, the guests are here,¡± one of his men said through the door. ¡°Let them in.¡± The door soon creaked open. Two figures stepped in. Their bodies were shrouded in a gray cloak and their faces concealed by black cloth. There was a tall man and a short woman. Even with all the layers, the man¡¯s snow-white visage leaking through the hood was unmistakable. ¡°Kleine, welcome,¡± Decim said, rising to his feet. It was the same person he met in Aois Nua¡¯s territory just a few days ago. Kleine removed his cloak, letting his long unblemished hair dangle to his shoulders. His scarlet eyes shot towards the Azurite cache, immediately scrutinizing the stones as if trying to find some semblance of fault. After a brief second, he nodded. ¡°You did well, Decim. I¡¯m impressed,¡± Kleine said. His tone was loose, but each word seemed to echo with authority. ¡°I¡¯ll admit that I was skeptical of your competence at first, especially once Steiger¡¯s hounds began roaming the slums. But now I can see that Nostra is a notch above the rest.¡± ¡°Your words flatter me,¡± Decim said as he lowered his head to feign respect, fighting to overlook the condescension dripping from Kleine¡¯s voice. Arrogant bastard. His eyes naturally drifted to the short woman by Kleine¡¯s side. He blinked, surprised at the dark skin hiding beneath the cloak. Decim had his suspicions¡ªconfirmed once he noticed her barefoot encased in sandals. This choice of footwear was only wore by the indigenous groups in the sandy province to the south. A native Gharian. ¡°Your eyes are nasty, Ardairan,¡± the lady hissed with a slight accent. Ardairan. Decim smirked. Only Gharians who still dreamt of their independence used that word. ¡°This is Karni.¡± Kleine made the introductions. ¡°She¡¯s an associate. Treat her as my equal.¡± A flicker of discontentment passed by his eyes for the briefest of seconds. ¡°Right, of course,¡± Decim replied. Tensions quivered at his fingertips. His instincts rattled at the flash of bloodlust from Kleine¡ªwarning him that the man before him was a threat. With a subtle breath, Decim dampened his fighting spirit. If the rumors are to be believed, then she is also an Exalted. The number disadvantage aside, his Gift was ill-suited in a direct fight. Without a pool of blood readily available, his combat potential was significantly diminished. I won¡¯t be able to brute force my way into this. He decided to take a different approach. ¡°If I may offer a suggestion,¡± Decim said, pushing past the tension to squeeze out his thoughts, ¡°What do you think about increasing Nostra¡¯s split of the Azurite?¡± Kleine frowned. His unamused expression looked terrifying amidst his pale pristine skin and blood-red eyes. His hostility felt tangible this time. ¡°I believe we had an agreement,¡± he stated in a strained voice. ¡°I would like to offer an amendment. I had to cull a bunch of my men to satisfy your requirements for secrecy. I believe this is the least you can do to compensate me for making this arrangement,¡± Decim said, sounding calmer than he felt. He knew he was pushing his luck. Nonetheless, this was an opportunity he couldn¡¯t let pass. Kleine stared at him¡ªsilent. His associate, Karni, was also quiet. Beads of sweat suddenly crawled down his neck. Goosebumps rose along his skin. Decim forced himself to smile. ¡°¡­You¡¯re quite audacious.¡± Kleine sneered. He turned towards his companion. ¡°Karni, what do you think?¡± Suddenly, a strange look crossed his face. Karni¡¯s eyes were in a daze. She was staring blankly into the distance, her pupils stretched thin, her iris white, devoid of light¡ªas if her soul was no longer dwelling within her fleshly vessel. Then suddenly, life returned to her eyes. ¡°Steiger¡¯s moving. Several agents. They seemed to be converging on this location,¡± she announced. ¡°Impossible!¡± Decim bellowed. Karni¡¯s declaration thundered in his head. The timing didn¡¯t make sense. None of his men knew he possessed the Azurite, much less its current location until a few hours ago. There was no way for information to have been leaked. ¡°My companion does not lie,¡± Kleine growled. Decim felt the man¡¯s intense gaze bore into his eyes. His guts churned with humiliation. ¡°Either you were followed, or you let a rat into your ranks.¡± *** Hells! Who the fuck is it?! Decim rushed through the Nostra facility. His urgent footsteps rampaged across the concrete floor. Two thoughts raged in his mind. First, he had to round everyone up. They had to evacuate into the sewers immediately. If the Gharian woman was right, then this facility had to be abandoned. Steiger would not rest until they razed this place to ruins and skewered their bodies to display in the slums¡ªpunishment for committing the most heinous crime in the kingdom and encroaching on their authority. It would serve as a brutal warning to the rest of the syndicates. Second, he had to find out who the traitor was. Everything went to shit in an instant because of their meddling. Decim lost his facility, gave up an entire cache of Azurite, and humiliated himself in front of one of the esteemed clients in the underworld¡ªall because of a single rat. His mouth drooled at the idea of tearing the bastard apart limb by limb. He would torture them to the brink of death before dousing their body in naphtha. Only then he would grant them the sweet release of death by setting them ablaze. He would listen to their tormented squeals as they floundered into hell. It would be a fitting end for the person who dared to cross him. He was so engrossed in the thought of revenge that he was late to notice that something was off. Where are my men? The facility was eerily quiet. Aside from the ominous hum of the furnaces and the rhythmic clanks of hammer from the orphan workers, Decim couldn¡¯t hear a single sign of his men. Baer¡¯s group was a rambunctious bunch¡ªnever quiet, always stirring like children who can¡¯t sit still. So where the hell were they? Miles. He should have been confined in the backrooms still. Decim remembered assigning a few people to watch over him. Once Decim arrived at the backrooms where Miles should have been, his blood went cold. The first thing he saw were the shattered iron bars of the cell door. Then the floor, glistening under the moon¡¯s glare, was drenched in a pile of gore. His men¡ªrather, what was left of them, were sprawled amongst the river of crimson. Their faces were smeared in shock and torment, a ghastly glimpse into their final moments. Baer was amongst them. And standing in the midst of the carnage, was Miles. The young cradled Caiside¡¯s limp body in his arms as he set him down slowly¡ªalmost with a delicate tenderness. Then he rose, staring straight at Decim. His deep cerulean eyes glimmered beneath the pale moonlight. Decim noticed his arms were drenched in blood. The young man''s eyes were sharp, lacking in fear, burning with a rebellious resolve. ¡°I see, so it was you,¡± Decim said as the pieces connected. He let out a painful laugh. Mana bloomed at his fingertips. Chapter 19 - I wont watch again! Emil Decim¡¯s hollow laughter thundered across the room. Pain and lunacy resonated with every echo while sparks of mana crackled in his vicinity. He¡¯s here. Emil gulped. His chest felt tight, his breathing short and arduous as if an invisible chain had coiled around his ribs. His torso throbbed, flaring from the unhealed burns, reminding him of the ruined state of his body. His hands trembled¡ªpartially from the adrenaline flushed in his veins and partially from the dread of confronting the vengeful Nostra executive. And his timing couldn¡¯t have been worst. Decim¡¯s Gift involved controlling blood, and Emil had just created a bloody carnage with the corpses of his men. The timing was almost comical as if the spirits of the dead were handing their boss the means to avenge their deaths. Emil kept one eye on Decim. The other darted about, trying to come up with a way to escape. With the ravaged state of his body, he was in no shape to fight him. The chilling laughter stopped abruptly. Silence lingered as the last echoes vanished. ¡°Since when?¡± Decim asked. His voice dropped to coarse whisper. His eyes sharp, steeled with a glacial glint. ¡°The very beginning,¡± Emil admitted. Guilt squeezed his heart. ¡°Really?¡± Decim snorted. He pulled back his ragged hair, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°I should have known,¡± he said, frighteningly calm, ¡°A strong, young man with such earnest eyes wanting to join a syndicate? Absurd. So obvious in hindsight. Without warning, he stomped the ground. The puddle of blood in front of Emil bubbled ominously. Suddenly, an array of blood spears burst forth. They rushed at him like arrows¡ªbegging to tear his body asunder. Emil dove to the ground. The spears of blood grazed the edge of his clothes, shredding the hems cleanly. Most of it missed, splattering into the walls behind him. Emil peeked at the aftermath. The remaining metal bars of the cell door were diced into miniscule pieces. Deep holes bored into the walls as the formless blood splashed against the surface. It wasn¡¯t hard to imagine what it would have done to his body. Decim cackled, ¡°Don¡¯t worry! I won¡¯t let you die so easily. Not after I thoroughly indulge myself.¡± The river of gore on the floor rippled with a violent frenzy. Azure light flooded the room. The blood rose from the corpses of Decim¡¯s men like flowers in rapid bloom. They sprang, flowed, surged, and settled into a forest of macabre tendrils and phantasmal projections. Emil stepped back, gawking at the nightmarish sight. It was as if the souls of the men he killed had been reanimated, risen into these ghastly forms drenched in blood. He needed to run, fast. But there was nowhere to go. He was in the rear of the facility. Walls flanked him at all sides. The only way out was ahead¡ªblocked off by a vengeful Exalted. Bloody tendrils quickly covered the entirety of the space before him. His path was cut off. No room, no gaps, nowhere to go but to charge into the horrific domain. His heart screamed. He had to fight. He had to survive. Death was not an option. Not when Mia and Raz depended on him. Decim thinks he has me cornered. His foe believed that he had an overwhelming advantage. It was true; in a normal fight, an Ordinary could never hope to best the prowess of an Exalted. He doesn¡¯t know about my Gift. Pain pulsated across his torso. Burned skin, still freshly scarred, smeared his body. With his dreadful state, he could probably only maintain his flames for a few minutes at best. I only get one shot to take him by surprise. Once he revealed his Gift, all bets were off. Emil gritted his teeth, resolved with a plan. The edge of his fingers trembled incessantly. He dug into his foot into floor¡ªand charged straight ahead. ¡°Wow! Marvelous!¡± Decim howled in ecstasy from beyond the bloody tendrils, ¡°What bravery! How courageous! Struggle! Resist! Turn this into a spectacle!¡± The distance between them shrank rapidly. Mana from Emil¡¯s Azurite pendant gathered across his skin, vibrating with a feverish voracity, eager to erupt. Not yet! He forcefully contained it at the cost of his screaming body. Decim screamed, ¡°Feast!¡± The bloody tendrils surged at his command. They warped into the shape of headless mouths, shrieking like famished beasts hell-bent on gorging its prey apart. Emil pressed forward. The projections crowded the airspace, blotting out the faint vestiges of the moonlight. Darkness engulfed the room. The seconds ticked. The projections were inches from his body¡ªteeth bared, ready to devour. Decim was finally in range. ¡°Rage,¡± Emil uttered. A popping sound crackled in his ears. The mana suppressed by his will flooded outwards like a storm. The ambient temperature climbed rapidly. The surrounding space seemed to vibrate¡ªreverberating with a panicked hesitance until the invisible force keeping it intact could no longer contain it. Air spontaneously ignited. The tendrils threatening to eviscerate his body instantly vaporized. Everything turned white. When he came to, he found himself surrounded by a sea of blaze. Flames spread ravenously, devouring the materials and equipment stored within the facility. ¡°Ngh!¡± He tried to get up. His limbs refused to move, protesting with agonizing pain that made him see stars. He glanced down. The freshly scarred skin across his torso had peeled off. Blood drenched the exposed flesh, parts of it already coagulated and cauterized from the scalding heat. The inside of his body spazzed at the abuse. Even his ears were clogged with a high-pitch ring that refused to cease. As his mind cleared, Emil realized that he was hearing cries and whimpers. He spun around¡ªhis face immediately aghast with horror. He had somehow landed in the workshop where the children were working. Flames ravaged the space. The row of furnaces had toppled over, contributing to the growing conflagration. The orphans were lying amidst wreckage. Some unmoving. Some screaming. Most were staring at him.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Their eyes were wide and their mouths trembled. When Emil made eye contact, they would flinch or freeze, sometimes shrieking in terror. As if they were in presence of a hideous monster. What have I done? His stomach boiled with a sickening revulsion. The children were dead because of him. And now their semblance of a home was destroyed, sullied by his desperation to live. Emil¡¯s mind flashed back to that horrible incident when his safe haven was decimated. The situation was eerily similar. Except now he played the role of the deranged Exalted. Thud. Thud. Thud. Footsteps boomed over the raging inferno. Emil spun around. The hairs on his back instantly rose. It was Decim. The Nostra executive slowly staggered out of the smoke and flames. Half of his face was scorched¡ªthe skin and flesh partially melted, peeling, accompanied by blotches of glaring blisters. H-How is he still alive?! Emil didn¡¯t hold anything back in his desperate gamble. He unleashed everything he had in front of Decim. There was nothing that stood in his way¡ªDecim should have experienced the full brunt of the attack. His question soon found an answer as Decim fully emerged from the smoke. From the neck down, he was covered in a layer of dark scarlet. As he walked, cracks fissured across the scarlet coat like broken glass. Bit by bit, they began to flak off, departing from his skin as if he was a bug emerging from metamorphosis. Did he create a coat of armor from the blood?! Emil was in disbelief. He immediately dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the painful protests of his body. He had to project strength. Decim must not discover his defective nature. ¡°So, you were an Exalted. Didn¡¯t see that one coming,¡± Decim hissed, his voice hoarse and sharp like a wounded animal, ¡°You¡¯re just full of surprises, aren¡¯t you?¡± He stopped. A distance of twenty meters separated them. Flames roared in the background. The two were locked in a standoff, glaring at each other, trying to size up the enemy. Emil narrowed his eyes. He¡¯s wary. He doesn¡¯t know what else I can do. Can I scare him off with a bluff? No. Likely not. He''s too committed to retreat. He was sprinting to my cell when he caught me killing Caiside. That means the facility is likely compromised. Steiger is coming. He knows. And he saw his men die. He had a chance to escape just now. But since he¡¯s still here, it must mean he¡¯s only seeking revenge. One of them had to die for this confrontation to end. Emil gnawed the side of his gums, trying to silence his frazzled nerves. Sweat and ash clung uncomfortably to his skin. Time was on his side. The longer Decim delayed, the more likely that other Steiger agents would arrive¡ª Decim suddenly moved. Emil lowered his stance, ready to evade at a moment¡¯s notice. Squelch! Huh? A high-pitched scream erupted from his right. One of the orphans nearby dropped to the floor, clenching his stomach. A spear shaped in blood was thrust deep into his guts. Another shriek came from his left. Another orphan was down on the floor, grabbing onto his neck as a protrusion of blood plunged into his throat. He gargled, gasping for air, desperately trying to cling onto his rapidly depleting life. ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Emil bellowed. Decim was silent. But his eyes responded, gleaming with madness. The part of his face unsullied by flames curved upwards into a semblance of his signature sneer. He¡¯s doing this on purpose! Emil saw red. He launched himself forward. Flames bloomed across his chest and limbs, feasting on his war-torn body. They spluttered; pathetic¡ªincomparably weaker than his usual output. But he didn¡¯t care. He had to stop the indiscriminate killing. His left leg was suddenly unresponsive, inattentive to his will. Numb. He glanced down. Something had torn into his left thigh. Squelch! Pain arrived first this time. Another projection of blood dug into the side of his torso. It gorged, clamping down on the flesh and bones. A gasp of agony escaped Emil¡¯s mouth. The flames engulfing him flared in response, enveloping the blood projections. In an instant, they were consumed by the blaze, vaporized loose from his body. ¡°Hahaha! So foolish! So predictable!¡± Decim cackled maniacally¡ªhis words slurred from the destruction to his face, ¡°This is why I detest those with a misplaced sense of justice! You¡¯re just so easily manipulated!¡± Tendrils of blood continued to erupt from the ground, spilled by the orphans who became unfortunate collateral. Emil tried to move. His left leg refused to budge, however, resting uselessly like a lump of stone. Fucking hell! Desperate, he threw himself backwards. ¡°Burn!¡± Flames blossomed in a spherical radius around his body, acting like a blast shield to keep the bloody tendrils at bay. But Emil¡¯s defense was flimsy. A flames¡¯ form was ephemeral, incompatible for defending against physical attacks. ¡°Argghh!¡± Two of the projections bored into his shoulders. Emil whimpered as his back smashed against the leg of a work bench. Something slammed onto the ground nearby. Screams pierced the air from the children still hopelessly stuck amidst the destruction. One of the blast furnaces toppled onto the floor, smashing against several metal columns supporting the facility. The structure creaked. Molten metal spilled onto the floor. A disturbing sizzle echoed over the chaos as the foundation of column began to melt. Emil glanced up. The ceiling of the workshop screeched, caving in as the columns keeping it upright were melted apart. ¡°Run!¡± he screamed to the children around him. Some of them still had their wits about them and immediately fled out of the way. Most of the orphans, however, remained still. Their eyes were in a daze, overwhelmed by the raging chaos. The ceiling collapsed. Chunks of metal rained down, descending onto the helpless children. Time slowed. Not again. Emil despaired. The situation was eerily familiar. The sight of Raz and the others running to his help¡ªoblivious to the insane Exalted waiting behind him. The picture of them being devoured by the flames replayed in his mind frame by frame. And then there was himself, lying down on the ground, incapacitated. Unable to move. Unable to help. Unable to do anything to change their fates. Why is it happening again? That incident cursed Emil with a self-destructive Gift. And yet, he endured. With a Gift, he was no longer a helpless orphan without agency. He had power. He had value. As long as he was available, he could change the unfortunate fates of those around him. Or so he thought. Reality was despicable. It was sick. Cruel. Unchanging. Once again, he could only watch as another tragedy unfolded before his eyes. Why? Why does the world despise orphans? What did we do to deserve this? Is it because we¡¯re useless? Have we sinned in our past lives? Or is the world so greedy that it must exploit the least fortunate? Emil¡¯s throat felt dry. He must have been screaming. His arms dangled uselessly by his side. Somehow, he dragged himself onto his feet. He nearly fell. His left leg struggled to withstand the force of his weight. His mind shut off the pain¡ªdriven by a singular thought. No! I won''t watch again! If he could save just one orphan. If he could tell them that they deserved normal lives. If he could show them that there was at least one person willing to extend a helping hand without asking for a single thing to return. He rushed into the fray. Desperation smeared on his face. The orphans beneath the collapsing ceiling stared at him blankly, unmoving, waiting for their impending deaths. I¡¯ll save you! Mana from his Azurite pendant suddenly surged. It swelled with an unrelenting pressure, engulfing his body in cerulean light. Emil grimaced, readying his nerves for the onslaught of pain. It never came. Instead, mana danced in his vicinity. It was tender. Gentle. Comforting. His wary body was soothed, caressed by the effusive flow. A spark jolted down his spine. His mind blanked for a split second. He had no idea what just happened, but it felt as though a library of esoteric knowledge had flooded into his head. Suddenly, he moved on instinct, as if in a trance. Emil stomped the ground. Pale mana streamed into the earth. The spot beneath his feet rumbled as an array of stone pillars suddenly ruptured from the ground. They simultaneously struck the collapsing ceiling, propping it up in place of the destroyed columns. The ceiling held¡ªjust inches away from falling atop the frozen children. What just happened? Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°An Awakening?!¡± Decim¡¯s voice knocked out of his daze, ¡°Impossible! H-How can an Exalted possess two Gifts?!¡± Emil had no time to analyze the situation. Decim immediately unleashed a barrage of bloody spears. Emil reacted on instinct, slamming his palms onto the floor. A wall of stone shot up instantly, rising in the path of the attack. The projections splattered against the stony surface with a loud splash. ¡°Pierce!¡± Emil pulled his arms back as if he was dragging a rope tied to a heavy load. Squelch! Decim groaned. A stone spike suddenly pierced his torso from behind, protruding outwards from his stomach. The Nostra executive glanced down, eyes shaking in disbelief. His face then twisted into an amused snarl. ¡°Honestly, you really are just full of surprises.¡± Without another word, his eyes dimmed. Decim¡¯s body grew limp like a puppet with its taut strings cut loose. Chapter 20 - Ominous foreboding Van A day had passed since the conclusion of their mission to recover the stolen Azurite cache. Van found himself in the smoke infused room of his detestable superior¡ªthe one that his beloved junior adorably calls the witch. The longer I serve her, the more that nickname grows on me, he thought as he completed his report on the outcomes of their mission. ¡°¡­In the end, about 95% of the Azurite cache was recovered. A Nostra metallurgy facility, a Nostra executive who was an Exalted, and an entire cadre of their members were eliminated. As part of his undercover duties, Emil also executed a Desperado from Aois Nua.¡± On the night of the mission''s conclusion, Van was patrolling the Lower Dannan slums as an undercover member of Aois Nua when he suddenly saw a thin beam of azure cross the night sky. To an Ordinary¡¯s eye, the light could have been easily mistaken as the vestiges of a bright star or a hallucination of the mind. For Van, however, it was a signal that demanded immediate attention. Without hesitation, he abandoned his position and sprinted towards the light''s source. The beam of azure continued to flicker and vanish at a constant cadence, solidifying his suspicions. It was a call for help. Is that Emil? Van traced the direction of the distress signal to the outskirts of the industrial district¡ªthe section that encroached onto Nostra territory. He sped up. His junior had already missed the previous night¡¯s scheduled meeting. When he arrived, he discovered the burning ruins of a metallurgy facility. Dark fumes bellowed. The brilliant fire towered to the night skies, cackling as it feasted on the structure. The walls to his left suddenly collapsed. Out of the wreckage emerged Emil¡ªa haggard mess. His face was drenched in ash and soot. His body in the midst of being devoured by flames. In his arms carried several unconscious children. Van later learned that they were orphans employed by Nostra. He massaged his forehead, suddenly back in the office. Hortensia was reading his report. Her eyes darted across the pages as she let out a plume of smoke. An absurdly long cigar was in her left hand. Her office was filled with a sweet fragrance, infused with a lingering hint of oak. Not an unpleasant scent, but Van would have much preferred something stronger and more stimulating. Something to make him forget the hellish nightmares inside the ruins of the Nostra facility. ¡°Well done,¡± Hortensia finally said after a minute of silent contemplation. As a veteran of Steiger, Van knew better than to interrupt her while she was quiet. His shoulders relaxed as he heard her affirmation. I guess we get passing marks. ¡°¡­There¡¯s the remaining 5% of the reported Azurite that was not recovered. What should we do? It¡¯s not a trivial amount,¡± Van asked. The entirety of stolen Azure cache was reported to be around 300 uncia, roughly the weight of an adult horse. Five percent of that was enough to supply a small number of Steiger Cleaners through a half a year¡¯s worth of missions. ¡°It¡¯s within the margin of error,¡± Hortensia said, scowling, ¡°At least, or so the royal family claims.¡± She let out a short, exasperated sigh. ¡°I don''t agree with their decision, but they told us to close the case for more pressing matters. I don''t have the jurisdiction to refuse. At the end of the day, they¡¯re the ones who pays our salaries.¡± Hortensia removed the blemished cigar in her mouth and shoved it into the ashtray. ¡°Van, I want you to look into a person behind the raid on the cache. There was a Desperado with the profile of an Eastern swordsman. As far as I¡¯m aware, that person does not belong to Nostra. My suspicion is that he works for the ¡®clients¡¯ mentioned in Emil¡¯s report.¡± She pushed a set of documents close to Van. ¡°Someone is using Nostra as a scapegoat. Find them.¡± Another mission this soon? Van frowned with bitterness. The cadence of their workloads was starting to get ridiculous. It was a sign of turbulent times in Ardair if the nation¡¯s secret police force was becoming understaffed and overworked. Reluctantly, he accepted the documents. He had to¡ªif he wanted to get what he desired. ¡°By the way, how¡¯s Emil?¡± ¡°Alive. Our little rising star is recovering well.¡± Hortensia smirked, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s just full of surprises, isn¡¯t he? To think he would undergo a proper Awakening into a full fledged Exalted. When you made that silly proposal to save him and his friends four years ago, I would have never expected him to turn into one of our best agents. Life really is absurd. Perhaps, we ought to revisit the Bestowed Project once more.¡±Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The mere mention of those words made Van wince. The Bestowed Project. It was a set of horrific research papers written by an unknown author. He first heard of this enigmatic project several years ago, just around the time when he found Emil and his companions in the aftermath of a Desperado¡¯s rampage within the Lower Dannan slums. The details of the project were apparently leaked to Steiger by an anonymous source. The papers made a terrible hypothesis¡ªthat the organs of an Exalted can be implanted into an Ordinary to induce an artificial Awakening. The procedures laid out in the papers were later used on Emil who was already on the verge of death. His survival and subsequent Awakening proved two things. One, the revolting research was valid. And two, there was someone in Ardair who was committing atrocities through conducting abhorrent experiments. ¡°Does this mean he was two Gifts now?¡± Van asked. ¡°Yes. He does,¡± Hortensia said with a sinister smile. ¡°This is unprecedented. His very existence disproves the theory that an Exalted may only possess one Gift. He might upend all our of existing knowledge. Whoever was behind the Bestowed Project must have been a madman.¡± A surge of anger flared in Van¡¯s chest. The sensation of disgust was palpable, clinging dryly onto his throat. Azurite and its use as an efficient storage and conductor of mana was discovered only a century ago. Since then, human beings have remained the only living being capable of bending mana to their will. In other words, the forbidden knowledge described by the Bestowed Project was likely obtained from a mountain of human corpses. And now it was in the hands of this foul witch. ¡°Your eyes could kill, Van,¡± Hortensia said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have no plans to use this research. Confirmation that it was real was enough. In fact, I¡¯m more curious about who its authors were.¡± Her eyes suddenly narrowed with a dangerous gleam. ¡°Ardair is a wretched nation, but even so, for the sake of upholding some semblance of ethics, we can¡¯t have people running amok and experimenting on our fellow countrymen.¡± Silence followed her declaration. Van stood there awkwardly. It was finally time. There was a question that he wanted to ask ever since he was summoned into her office. Those who worked under the witch all have something they want. ¡°Director,¡± he began; his voice teetering with unease, ¡°do you have any news about my sister?¡± *** Kleine Somewhere on the northern outskirts of Lower Dannan, out of the arid fumes of the industrial district and near a set of ruins deep in the northern woods, Kleine sat down by a tree. Pale moonlight leaked in from the tiny gaps of the canopy, offering the dimmest of illuminations. He leaned back against the trunk and removed the black hood covering his head. A bundle of white hair fluttered out. He brushed his hands through it, straightening the messy folds. The strands flowed amidst the night breeze, glistening under the wary moon. For a man with such a distinct appearance, the uninhabited wilderness was the one place where he could let his guard down. His sharp scarlet eyes suddenly peered into the darkness. There was a faint shuffle from a nearby bush. Soon, a petite Gharian lady emerged from the undergrowth. ¡°You¡¯re slow, Karni.¡± Karni clicked her tongue at the unnecessary jab, ¡°Naturally. My legs are like stubs compared to yours.¡± ¡°Fair point. But fret not. You have plenty of other attributes that make you a radiant lady,¡± Kleine said, barely concealing the faint grin emerging on the corners of his mouth. ¡°Don¡¯t patronize me,¡± she spat. She walked towards the center of the ruins. Fragments of stone and broken pillars littered the vicinity. A broken statue, shattered and overtaken by moss, towered nearby. A similar sight could be seen all over the uninhabited lands of Ardair. These were former sites of worship, dedicated to the pagan Goddess Endora¡ªthe patron of the Exalted. She was once a beloved Goddess, worshipped across the lands for her benevolent blessings. Now, she was forgotten, her religion rendered obsolete by the discovery of Azurite, which led to proliferation of Exalted across Ardair. What used to be an esoteric power wielded only by mystics and shamans was now the currency of influence and authority within a militaristic nation. As Karni reached the center of the ruins, she snapped her fingers. The ground stirred. Hushed pitter patter rippled across their surroundings, no louder than a whimper. The nearby undergrowth began to shake. Suddenly, out of the woodworks emerged a cadre of rats. They scurried across the stone ruins with a frenzied speed, their red beady eyes piercing the darkness, converging onto Karni¡¯s location. ¡°Here.¡± Karni pointed to a spot beside her. From Kleine¡¯s eyes, a wisp of mana gathered at her fingertips. The rats immediately rushed towards the spot. Then, each of them dropped something that was kept between their fangs. Once all the rats were done, a small pile of radiant ores were left on the ground. ¡°Fifteen unica of Azurite,¡± Kleine said, marveling at the pure cerulean blue. ¡°And all it took was three weeks of scurrying around Lower Dannan like moles and crippling an extremely useful pawn in Nostra,¡± Karni lamented, ¡°Don¡¯t expect to make any moves in Lower Dannan for a while. Steiger will be on full alert.¡± ¡°It''s fine. You should be happy instead. We gained a lot and learned plenty about one of our biggest oppositions. Frankly, I¡¯m a bit underwhelmed. Steiger underperformed to my expectations with their response this time,¡± Kleine said as he stood up. He strolled towards the pile of Azurite and traced his long fingers along the stones. His heart swelled at the presence of concentrated mana. ¡°With all this, we¡¯re set for the next stage of our plans.¡± ¡°Give me a week to process these into useable accessories,¡± Karni said. ¡°Of course, take your time. We¡¯re ahead of schedule,¡± Kleine replied as his eyes danced with madness. An insidious smile crossed his pale ethereal face. ¡°I can see it now. It won¡¯t be long before we can finally drag those indolent fools to their graves.¡± Chapter 21 - A reason to kill Emil A small, empty room. Pitch-black. Silent. The air, chilly, seeped into his back, crawling along the lines of his spine. Emil sat on the floor. Trapped. Unable to escape. There was nothing to do in an empty room deprived of his senses. At the very least, he tried to cling onto his sense of time by counting the seconds that elapsed. Once he reached the sixth digits, however, he gave up. His mind was trembling on the verge of insanity. The lack of sensory stimuli drove him mad. Wisp-like, formless projections began to manifest before his eyes. They were always there, persistent, ever-present¡ªeven if he closed his eyes. At some point, he could no longer tell if they were hallucinations or just the byproducts of his strange reality. Disembodied voices also echoed in his head. He had no idea what they were saying. The string of words sounded hollow, muffled, more like a garble of noises than any coherent language. None of it mattered to Emil. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he could hear another person¡¯s voice instead of his own insane thoughts. It was torturously comforting. A dim candle suddenly illuminated the room. Emil winced. The formless projections in his vision dissipated, retreating to the edges of his periphery before vanishing¡ªas if they were being vanquished by the cleansing light. His ears rang, humming with a shrill pitch. The disembodied voices stirred, angered. An adult body was sprawled behind the candlelight. They were gagged, bound by rope, their eyes concealed by a black cloth. Their frame suggested that it was a man. A steel collar was coiled around his neck, baring the insignia of the crown. As Emil¡¯s eyes adjusted to the light, he saw a black ¡°X¡± marked across the man¡¯s forehead. They were an inmate of the state. Sentenced to death. How did they get in here? Emil sifted through his memories for answers. It didn¡¯t help. He was too drunk on the precipice of madness. The sensory deprivation messed with his mind. He had no recollection of when the inmate was tossed into the room. They could have been here the entire time for all he knew. He eventually noticed a knife implanted onto the ground before him. A single note was attached to the blade¡¯s end. ¡°Here¡¯s your reason,¡± it wrote. The edges were stained in blood. The ominous message jogged his mind. Right, he was sent here for disobedience. The witch wanted to teach him in killing techniques for the next stage of his training. He stubbornly refused, adamant that he won¡¯t take a life unless he had a compelling reason to do so. Here¡¯s your reason. The witch¡¯s condescending voice echoed in his head. He could see her sadistic sneer, mocking him for his na?ve stance. The implication here were clear¡ªif he wanted to leave this hell, he had to kill the man before him. The disembodied voices shrieked. They raged with a deafening bellow, screeching ravenously once he acknowledged the note. Although their words remained incoherent, Emil understood their intent. It wanted him to kill. The presence of the dim candle restored a part of his senses. He could acutely feel the droop in his eyes, melting into his orbital sockets. The snag of his skin. The grimy coat of oil that clung onto his body. His brain reverberated within the confines of his skull¡ªexhausted, yet pulsating with excitement at the prospect of leaving. Emil stared at the handle of the knife. He then turned to his target. An inmate of the state. On death row. In other words, a treacherous bastard. A scum of the earth. The worst of the worst. The witch made it easy for him to decide. Here¡¯s your reason. Emil smirked with a look of resignation. He grabbed the handle of the knife. It felt absurdly light in his hands. The incongruity was unsettling¡ªhow could such a small tool so effortlessly end a person¡¯s life? He approached this target. His eyes narrowed. The voices in his head squealed in delight, cackling in anticipation. He could finally leave this torturous room. All he needed to do was plunge the knife into his victim¡¯s throat. *** Emil opened his eyes. Incandescent lights flickered above. His nose furrowed, assaulted by the nauseating smell of antiseptics. Sterile walls flanked him from all sides. A familiar place. It only took him a second to realize that he was in a medical house owned by Steiger. These establishments were spread across Ardair, hidden in plain sight, built for the sole purpose of providing rapid medical response to Steiger Cleaners on the field. This was the handiwork of the witch aimed at improving the survival rate of her indentured slaves. He grimaced, suddenly struck by a violent headache. The entirety of his body was still shaking¡ªa visceral reaction born from his earlier nightmare. That was a memory that I didn¡¯t need to relive. His ankles wobbled as he hopped off the bed. His left leg was still weak after his fight against Decim. The rest of his body was covered in bandages. His final recollections of the Nostra facility were vague. He remembered he confirmed Decim¡¯s death before rushing to drag the surviving orphans out of the burning wreckage. He must have passed out shortly after. The door to his room clicked open. Emil raised his head, expecting to see a medical staff. Instead, it was a face that instantly made him grimace. ¡°Well damn, you look absolutely overjoyed to see me, Emil!¡± It was Van. His obnoxious voice resounded across the sterile room, defiling the sanctity of the space.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± he asked with a stupidly wide grin as he glanced up and down Emil¡¯s body. ¡°Terrible,¡± Emil replied flatly. Everything ached and throbbed. The pains lingered with persistence, refusing to dissipate, as if his body was wrapped in a scalding blanket. Even breathing was uncomfortable. Without warning, Van leaned in and pushed out his hips in an exaggerated fashion, making a mockery of the seductive poses done by prostitutes in the entertainment districts. ¡°How about after seeing your dear Van?¡± he said in a disgusting voice as he blew him a kiss. I¡¯m going to puke. ¡°¡­Now I wished someone had gorged my eyes out,¡± Emil said, visibly disturbed, ¡°Actually, no. I should have just died. What¡¯s the point of living if I have to wake up to see this horror?¡± ¡°Ahahaha!" Van howled in delight, "I''m so glad that you still have a sense of humor!¡± No, but I was being completely serious. ¡°Seriously though, I¡¯m happy you¡¯re still alive,¡± Van said, suddenly dropping his frivolous tone. He reached out and gave Emil a firm pat on the shoulders. ¡°I just gave Hortensia a run-down of the mission outcomes. We recovered most of the Azurite and eliminated the remaining Nostra members in the area. All in all, this was a resounding success.¡± Emil brushed his hands away. ¡°What about the children that were working in the facility?¡± ¡°Hortensia had them moved to an affiliated orphanage. The plan is to evaluate their potential after they¡¯ve rested up. Those who are deemed capable will be inducted into Steiger.¡± The last sentence made Emil shudder. His throat burned. All the horrific experiences that he went through during his training flashed across his mind in an instant. ¡°Emil, I understand your feelings on the matter. But¡ª¡± Van¡¯s eyes narrowed. His usual flippant attitude vanished at the flick of a switch. ¡°¡ªSteiger isn¡¯t a charity. This isn¡¯t an organization with unlimited resources. They must be pragmatic about this. The fact that Hortensia was willing to offer these orphans a chance to make themselves useful is already intervening more than she should.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s the damn problem,¡± Emil snapped. It took him a moment to realize his jaws were clenched. His hands were balled in fists, digging deep into his blood-stained palms. *** He was discharged later that day. The medical staff wanted him to stay for another night, but being confined to a bed basking in the stench of antiseptics was too much for Emil to bear. And frankly, he missed Mia and Raz. This mission had already stolen too much of his time. Emil pulled his hood over his head and trotted out into the streets of Lower Dannan. The medical house was located at the outskirts of the industrial district¡ªnot too far from the tavern where Mia worked. The sun was on the precipice of the horizon, beaming blood red as twilight descended upon the land. It¡¯s quiet. Too quiet. It was the end of the day. There should have workers roaming about. Paranoia gnawed his mind. He quickened his steps. The low drawl of the blast furnaces continued to blare in the background. Plumes of smoke rose from the array of workshops and facilities lined along the district like ink blots against a canvas of brilliant red. Maybe it¡¯s just a long workday? Emil frowned. He hoped he was just being overly cautious. The tavern that he currently called home finally came into sight. At a glance, everything looked normal. As he got closer, however, he noticed a couple of anomalies. The ground before the doors was unusually messy. Shards of glass littered the vicinity. Broken bottles in sight. Fuck. Emil rushed in. The inside of the tavern was chaos. Tables were flipped over. Chairs smashed. Traces of food and booze smeared the walls and doors. Broken plates and scattered utensils were everywhere. A group of thugs were crowded at the back. They had machetes and knives in hand. A wicked grin plastered on their disgusting faces. Their eyes were wide with savage glee as they slowly closed in on someone as a group. It was Mia. She was cowering. A knife was in her hand as she desperately tried to fend them off. Emil saw red. *** Mia Mia staggered backwards. Her legs teetered. The knife felt uncomfortably loose in her hands as she stared dumbfounded at the scene before her. Another intruder suddenly appeared. In a flurry of attacks too fast for her eyes to follow, the five thugs that ransacked the tavern were immediately downed. They crashed into the floor, bleeding and foaming at the mouth, seemingly unconscious. Mia gulped, unsure if the new arrival was friend or foe. ¡°Mia, are you alright?¡± the intruder asked. Mia froze at the sound of her name. Who is this? As if realizing their suspicious appearance, the intruder slowly pulled back the hood concealing their face. Disheveled black hair flopped onto their head. Their eyes were wild and intense, betraying the intellectual gaze dwelling in the bluish pupils. Scars and fresh burn marks sullied their boyish face. It took Mia a second to recognize him. ¡°E-Emil?¡± she whispered in shock. She couldn¡¯t believe her eyes. When was the last time I saw him fight? She sifted through her memories, unable to recall a single instance except for that day four years ago when their safe haven was destroyed. She couldn¡¯t reconcile this version of Emil inside her head. The person in front of her radiated the sharpness of a dangerous, battle-hardened warrior. What have they done to you? Her eyes trembled, unable to imagine the hell he must have endured to become¡­this. It suddenly dawned on her. Four years had passed and she still had no idea of what he was doing to bring money in to keep them afloat. All she knew was that he was frequently absent and often in pain once he returned home. Whenever she tried to ask, Emil always stubbornly shut her down. He took a step towards her. Mia instinctively flinched. His savage violence was still fresh on her mind. ¡°S-Sorry,¡± Emil mumbled. ¡°¡­It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m fine. They didn¡¯t touch me,¡± Mia said, trying to pacify his rage. The terrifying glare in his face finally softened. Slowly, he began to look like his usual self. ¡°B-By the way, are they still alive?¡± she eventually found the courage to ask, grimacing at the thugs sprawled on the floor. The grisly aftermath of Emil¡¯s rampage was horrific. ¡°Barely. But they¡¯ll live,¡± Emil muttered dispassionately. He approached the unconscious thugs and grabbed each of them by the foot. Without mercy, he began dragging them out of the tavern. *** ¡°So, what happened?¡± The two of them took a seat by the counter. It was the only place in the tavern that was relatively intact. Everywhere else was a ransacked mess. Mia couldn¡¯t help but notice the fresh scars on Emil¡¯s face. Nasty welts and cuts smeared his cheeks. She saw bandages wrapped around his body from the few glimpses she caught beneath his cloak. That should be my question. She chewed on her lips, fighting to push down the emotions threatening to erupt. The sight of Emil¡¯s injuries was tearing her apart. ¡°¡­The local gangs in the area are getting rowdier. It started a couple of days ago. We weren''t the only ones that have been attacked,¡± Mia explained, ¡°There are rumors that the three syndicates in Lower Dannan are all under pressure. They were the ones apparently keeping all the smaller gangs in check. Without their presence, everyone started to do whatever they wanted.¡± Mia caught the briefest of shock flash across Emil¡¯s eyes. So he had something to do with it. She quickly changed the subject, knowing that he would feel guilty for indirectly putting her in danger. ¡°Raz is getting better by the way. The medicine you brought is working.¡± She tried to reassure him with a smile. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he muttered. News of Raz''s recovery seemed to have eased the tension on his mind. Emil¡¯s head suddenly slumped onto the countertop. In just a few seconds, he was fast asleep. Mia stared at him longingly as the tears she had been holding back stormed out. A cauldron of emotions escaped her chest. Relief that Emil was back. Fear over the instability plaguing Lower Dannan. Pain at Emil¡¯s suffering. Helpless that she couldn¡¯t do any more to alleviate his burden. Please tell me, she sobbed, wincing at the needles prodding her heart, what else can I do to help him? Chapter 22 - A chance to burn the witch Emil Emil woke up to the dim glimpse of dawn. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon¡ªits gentle rays peered through the gaps in his blinds, slowly heating up the blankets enveloping his wary body. Spoiled by the warm caress and the comfort of his own bed, he gradually closed his eyes once more. He was on the precipice of deep sleep. Random thoughts adrift his subconscious. Mia''s cooking. Fixing the broken chairs. Cleaning up the tavern. The vibrant cocktails by Caiside that he wanted to share with Mia. The orphans that he failed to save. Emil shot up, jolted awake by the horrific imagery. The scene of the children buried beneath the flaming wreckage of the Nostra facility flashed before his eyes. The disturbing sight was forever seared in his mind. He clenched his chest, trying to stop the furious pounding of his heart. I did everything I could. He repeated those words to himself, trying to silence his guilty conscious. It took a solid minute before he finally felt calm enough to settle down. Emil groaned as he sunk back in bed. A dull, scalding buzz washed over his torso and limbs¡ªthe unhealed scars from his fight with Decim. This is going to take awhile to heal, he thought, hoping that the witch was aware of his wretched state. He didn¡¯t expect her to be sympathetic to his troubles¡ªempathy didn¡¯t exist in monsters like her. But at the very least, he believed that she was rational enough to spare him from any new missions for a little while. Overworking an injured agent would only lead to disaster. Thankfully, he uncovered the Azurite cache and left the hospital yesterday at a fortunate time. If he would been any later to return to the tavern, then Mia might have gotten¡ª Stop it. He shook his head, catching the panic flaring in his chest. The worst didn¡¯t happen. Let¡¯s not think about hypotheticals. Still, the irony of the situation was not lost on him. His assignment with Nostra was to prevent a stolen Azurite cache from escalating into a national security incident. His task with Grenze was to reduce their authority and destroy their exploitative businesses within the slums. Both missions were supposed to be for the betterment of society. And yet, his actions somehow directly led to Mia suffering. It felt like the world was playing a cruel joke on him. Either way, this area isn¡¯t safe anymore. We probably need to move. Or I can petition the witch to add more security to this area until thing stabilize¡ª Tap, tap, tap! Emil turned to the window. A carrier pigeon was pecking on the glass. *** The witch summoned him again. Fuck! I can¡¯t believe this! Emil stomped towards the elevator shaft separating the halves of Dannan. When he first realized the pigeon carried a letter from the witch, he immediately wanted to tear the pages apart and ignore whatever message was written. It wasn¡¯t until his eyes caught the first line that he forced himself to stop. ¡°Don¡¯t rip this apart¡ªor I¡¯ll remove the agents I placed around your home.¡± That damn witch, she knew. She knew that his patience had worn thin, and she knew that the tavern had been ransacked last night. Dannan was Steiger¡¯s headquarters, so naturally the witch had prying eyes surveying the city. And of course, she knew exactly how to tug at his conscious to make him do her bidding. If she was willing to go this far to convince him to come, then something serious must be brewing. Emil shook his head in disbelief. He had to come up with a ridiculous lie for Mia to let him leave. Like a puppet being pulled on taut strings, he made his way towards Upper Dannan. He eventually arrived at the Royal Bank of Ardair, the undercover headquarters of Steiger¡ªthe same dreary building that looked laughably out of place amongst the opulent splendor of Upper Dannan. This time, however, the receptionist led him downstairs from the ground level. After an agonizing descent down a long treacherous flight of stairs, they safely reached the bottom. There was a narrow room with a door and a tiny lamp affixed to the wall. The receptionist went to unlock the door. ¡°The director is waiting for you inside,¡± she said before turning back up the stairway. Emil stared as the receptionist faded into a moving silhouette. Suddenly, he was alone. Calm down. He took a deep breath. Claustrophobia was already gnawing at his nerves. He tried to silence the panic rising to his chest. A meeting with the witch was always an ordeal, and he had to prepare himself for any of her disgusting mind games. Emil pushed the door open. Rather than a modestly furnished room, he was surprised to find himself before a large underground chamber containing a wide field. The ceiling of the chamber was nearly two stories tall. Torches lined the stone walls, brightly illuminating the space, revealing an impressive array of weapons and equipment arranged along the field¡¯s perimeter.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. I can¡¯t believe she has an underground training facility right below headquarters. The witch was standing at the center of the field. She was wearing a casual outfit more compatible for movement, consisting of a simple undershirt and linen braies that stretched to her ankles. Her long hair was tied back. A cloth towel draped over her shoulders. Beads of sweat clung to her exposed skin, glistening from the torchlights. ¡°You certainly love to dawdle, Emil,¡± the witch said with a chilling grin. Emil scowled as he approached the center. I have a bad feeling about this. ¡°...I¡¯m not overly fond of being summoned when it¡¯s supposed to be my time to rest. This is the second time that this has happened,¡± he spat, not bothering to hide his fury. ¡°Then logically you should have hurried up to get this meeting over with instead waiting by the door,¡± the witch retorted, ¡°I¡¯m also short on time, so let me get to the point.¡± The towel on her shoulder suddenly fell towards the ground. Emil blinked. Hortensia inexplicably vanished from his sight. Huh? His eyes were slow to process what just happened. The left side of his neck suddenly itched. In his periphery, he caught a glimpse of the air vibrating. Specks of azure crackled at the edge. His instincts screamed at him to move. Emil tossed his head back¡ªright as Hortensia phased into existence on his left. Her arm swiped laterally in a wide crescent, splitting the air where his neck had been just a second prior. ¡°Not bad. Your sensitivity towards mana certainly improved.¡± Emil forgot to breathe. Air returned to his lungs as the harrowing realization set in¡ªhe nearly just had his head cleaved off. ¡°W-What the fuck?!¡± he screamed, taking a few steps back to increase the distance between him and Hortensia. ¡°Spar with me,¡± the witch demanded with authority. Emil winced at the murderous pressure exuding from her presence. Suddenly, he was regretting his decision to step foot into this place. Still, he refused to be ordered around like a slave. ¡°A-Are you insane? Do I look like I can put up a fight right now?¡± he lifted his shirt and pointed at his torso, still wrapped in yesterday¡¯s bandages. Patches of sweat and blood already drenched the surface. ¡°Irrelevant,¡± the witch said nonchalantly, ¡°You¡¯ve awakened a second Gift. This has never happened before in the short history of the Exalted. You¡¯re an anomaly. I need to understand how the Awakening has changed you.¡± So she summoned me here to beat the shit out of me. Emil clenched his teeth, suddenly indignant. ¡°How about fuck off and find someone else to be your punching bag?! I¡¯m not doing this shit right now!¡± As much as he wanted an opportunity to bash the witch¡¯s face in, Emil was not stupid. The gulf between them was immeasurable. Hortensia didn¡¯t ascend to the position of Steiger¡¯s director due to nepotism or seniority. The woman was fiercely competent¡ªboth as a combatant and a field agent. It could be said that the infamy of Steiger¡¯s Cleaners as ruthless and relentless hounds originated from her feats. ¡°An extra week¡¯s pay,¡± the witch suddenly said. Emil froze. The rage boiling inside his chest was instantly quenched as if someone had submerged him in cold water. No! I¡¯m not falling for this again! ¡°I don¡¯t ne¡ª¡± ¡°And if you impress me, I¡¯ll double it.¡± That silenced him. Emil¡¯s jaws dropped at the irresistible deal. ¡°¡­Are you serious?¡± ¡°Yes. When have I ever lied to you about compensation?¡± the witch said with a devilish smirk. She knew she got him. Emil bared his teeth, hating himself for being tempted by the trap. He needed money. Bad. The raid on the tavern meant that particular area of Lower Dannan was no longer safe. He had to move Mia and Raz to a more stable location. All of that costed extra money he currently did not have. ¡°Fine.¡± He resolved himself and got into a fighting stance. The witch raised an eye, seemingly amused at his sudden change of heart. A distance of twenty meters separated the them. Emil waited, focused, ready to react to any subtle twitches or flexions along Hortensia¡¯s body. Mana suddenly gathered at the soles of her feet. What? He''s never seen mana move in such detail before. The changes to his vision perplexed him, but he had no time to dwell on it. Hortensia dug her heels into the ground. Immediately, she lunged, crossing the gap in an instant. Shit! Emil ducked left. Hortensia¡¯s fist rocked the air. Gust from the impact of her punch grazed the side of his neck. He immediately retaliated with a right hook, fighting to control the momentum, aimed at the witch¡¯s jaws. She easily weaved out of the way. Sensing danger, he retreated¡ªright as Hortensia countered with a vicious kick. ¡°Not bad. Your reaction speed is greatly improved.¡± Sweat trickled down Emil¡¯s neck. He let out a heavy breath. They barely exchanged two moves, but Emil was already exhausted. The pressure exuded by the witch was suffocating. His nerves were on constant alert, frazzled by the knowledge that one direct hit will likely knock him out. His unhealed injuries didn¡¯t help either. Still, he wasn¡¯t completely helpless. I can definitely see more now. Sparks of azure danced around Hortensia¡¯s body. Emil¡¯s eyes could now pick up on the turbulent mana coursing in Hortensia¡¯s vicinity. An effect of his Awakening. Reading how the mana fluctuated, he could somewhat anticipate the witch¡¯s movements. ¡°Let¡¯s see how you deal with this!¡± Hortensia suddenly vanished. She¡¯s using her Gift now! Emil¡¯s eyes scanned the vicinity, turning his head in quick bursts, trying to decipher where she was going to appear. He was mid-turn when the ambient mana suddenly surged. Hortensia phased into existence, appearing at the spot where he was facing just a second prior. ¡°Ngh!¡± Pain exploded on the right side of his torso. Emil felt his body airborne as he was flung to the side by Hortensia¡¯s empowered kick. In his periphery, she vanished again. He crashed into the earth. His back throbbed. His torso screeched in pain. But there was no time to agonize. Emil suddenly sensed Hortensia behind him. Immediately, he rolled to the side, struggling to his feet, narrowly avoiding a heavy stomp to the chest. Hortensia pursued him like a relentless predator, unwilling to yield the initiative. Desperate, Emil activated his Gift. ¡°Burn!¡± His Azurite pendant glowed a brilliant blue. Fire snapped into existence, swarming his body. He ignored the flash of agony as he beckoned the blaze to devour the witch. The flames surged with a sadistic glee. Right before they made contact, however, Hortensia phased out of the way. She immediately re-appeared to his left. This time her punch connected. Emil¡¯s skull rattled. Tears clouded his vision from the thunderous pain. Hortensia gave him no room to breathe. Another punch loomed. The hairs on Emil¡¯s arm rose. Goosebumps slithered across his skin. His instincts screamed. Unlike the previous strikes, this one possessed an intent to kill. ¡°Ahhhhh!¡± He cried out of desperation. Mana swelled out of his pendant. He crossed his arms over his chest in a last-ditch effort to intercept the killing blow. As Hortensia¡¯s fist approached, his arms were suddenly encased in a layer of earth. Crunch! Emil was sent to the ground. His arms stung, abuzz with a searing pain. Stone fragments dropped around him¡ªthe byproducts of his new Gift. He blocked Hortensia''s killing blow. Excited, he tried to stand up¡ªonly to find his body unwilling to comply. The ceiling of the underground field suddenly began to spin. ¡°Looks like that¡¯s all you got,¡± the witch¡¯s voice boomed in his ears, sounding disembodied. She was crouched beside him, eyeing his pathetic state with a sneering grin. ¡°Rejoice, I just thought of your next assignment.¡± Chapter 23 - A mission only you can do Emil The underground training facility conveniently had a medical bay. A doctor was already on standby when the witch dragged Emil¡¯s limp body into the room. Bandages, ointment, and a myriad of other medical grade items were already laid out on a table in advance. She had this set up so she can cobble me to her heart¡¯s content. Emil shot her a glare. The witch replied with a conniving grin as if she had read his mind. He grimaced as he was carelessly flung onto the bed. The doctor went to work immediately, placing a bag of ice on his swollen jaws and stripping him of the dirty bandages glued to his body. The process was agonizing. Dried blood kept the bandages tight against his body and removing them peeled away patches of his damaged skin. The doctor tried to wet the bandages with water to lessen his suffering, but it did little to alleviate the pain. Indifferent to his troubles, the witch suddenly began, ¡°So, about your new assignment¡ª" ¡°Can this fucking wait?¡± Emil hissed through gritted teeth, ¡°First answer me this, what the hell happened to my body? I thought an Exalted could only have one Gift.¡± The witch shrugged, ¡°As did I. And then you happened. I believe you might be the first Exalted in recorded history to have multiple Gifts. Congratulations.¡± ¡°Am I screwed?¡± ¡°No idea. This is threading new territory,¡± the witch said, completely unhelpful, ¡°How do you feel? Any abnormal pains? Any malfunctioning faculties? Do you remember what happened prior to your Awakening?¡± ¡°Nothing unusual. Just the regular burns from using that wretched Gift. As for memories...¡± he said while trying to recall what unfolded within the Nostra facility, ¡°I was desperate. I wanted to save the children from the collapsing ceiling. Then my body was suddenly enveloped in mana. It was tranquil. Soothing. I felt strong. My head suddenly felt like it was being flooded with knowledge. Afterwards, I instinctively knew how to invoke my new Gift.¡± ¡°Then you went through a proper Awakening. I can attest to that from our spar. Your mana perception has improved, as did your physical constitution. These are all regular effects of an Awakening. We also confirmed that you can invoke both Gifts without an issue, which makes you the only person fit for this next assignment,¡± the witch suddenly declared, ¡°I want to station you as an undercover student at Exalted Academy.¡± All of the things Emil was expecting the witch to say, going undercover at the most prestigious academy in the kingdom was definitely not on the list. Exalted Academy was an independent institution founded to hone talented Exalted and to further the understanding on the mechanisms of Gifts and Azurite. The Academy was located at the heart of Azure City¡ªa massive metropolis situated at the center of Ardair. It shared borders with all three of Ardair¡¯s provinces while functioning as a de facto independent city-state with its own method of governance. While Ardair¡¯s provinces were ruled by the royal family and two other noble houses, Azure City was run by the Council of Mana¡ªa governing body elected by staff and affiliates of Exalted Academy. ¡°You want me to become a student?¡± Emil asked in disbelief. Is she insane? The witch had warped his body and mind for the past several years into a killing machine. And now she suddenly wanted to drop him into an institution of learning filled with kids. ¡°Oh, it won¡¯t be that bad. Most Exalted have a couple of loose screws in their heads. The students of the Academy are no different. You¡¯ll fit right in.¡± Hortensia waved off his concerns. ¡°As for your objective, your main task is to be the main field agent within Azure City for any work that falls under Steiger initiatives.¡± ¡°That sounds incredibly vague and suspicious.¡± His comment was met with a knowing smile. She¡¯s doing this on purpose. There is definitely a bunch of things that she¡¯s leaving unsaid. Emil narrowed his eyes. From what he knew, Steiger had an authoritative presence everywhere in Ardair¡ªexcept for Azure City. The Council of Mana insisted on its rights to self-governance due to its unique status as an independent city-state. Instead of having Steiger lord over its affairs, the Council wanted full control of everything, including the anti-corruption duties that usually fell under Steiger¡¯s jurisdiction. Given its tremendous influence over Exalted affairs, the royal family was forced to acquiesce. Which conveniently makes it a hotbed for corruption and crime, he smirked at the obvious implications. Steiger¡¯s existence was to ¡°maintain the status quo.¡± In a kingdom lurking with individuals possessing abilities that could bend the reality to their will, the organization was found to ensure the continued survival of the royal family¡¯s authority. Azure City was Steiger¡¯s one blind spot within the kingdom. And after years letting them do as they pleased, the witch suddenly wanted to establish a presence in the city despite political pressures blocking her before. In other words, something foul was brewing in Azure City. One that may threaten the royal family¡¯s authority. ¡°That sounds highly above my pay grade,¡± Emil said. ¡°In addition to a bump in salary, I will also have accommodations planned for your two friends to move into the city,¡± the witch replied. Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°And before you try to back out, you should know that you¡¯re the only one capable of performing this mission.¡± It didn¡¯t take Emil long to figure out why, ¡°¡­It¡¯s because I have two Gifts.¡± Before Emil¡¯s Awakening, it was an established tenet that an Exalted could only possess a single Gift. As a result, the form and manifestation of a Gift can be used as an Exalted¡¯s unique identifier. Given this fact, it was simply unfeasible for a Steiger agent to go undercover in an institution built around the Exalted.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Hortensia nodded. ¡°You¡¯re at the perfect age to be admitted and you have enough pre-requisite knowledge to keep up with the curriculum. During the day, you will hone your newly awakened Gift. At night, you will conceal your identity and perform Steiger-related tasks with your original Gift. You¡¯re the perfect candidate. The only candidate.¡± Emil groaned. The witch was not going to let him refuse. Resigned to his fate, he sighed as he considered his next steps. Fine. But I¡¯ll make sure to squeeze you dry. ¡°¡­My raise. How much is it going to be?¡± *** He was medically discharged in the afternoon. Emil limped through the opulent terraces of Upper Dannan and onto the elevator that would take him back to the lower district. The discussion with the witch lingered in his head. Become a student. He winced at the thought. Ever since Steiger turned him into a monster, he gave up on the possibility of living a normal life. His dream of going to school and spending his days idly studying, engrossed in books was supposed to be an unreachable fantasy. Now suddenly, an opportunity appeared. Even if it was on a false premise of going undercover, Emil couldn¡¯t help but feel conflicted. Can I even do it? The idea of a normal life seemed so foreign and out of reach. What did people his age even talk about? What did they even do? Emil couldn¡¯t imagine. It was difficult to envision himself in a classroom amongst students his age, fretting over benign problems like homework, relationships, and exams. No matter how he rationalized it, he could only see his cover getting blown. Failure wasn¡¯t an option, however. Despite Van and the witch¡¯s cavalier attitudes, Steiger as a whole was a ruthless organization predicated on merit. Emil was well-aware that his open belligerence towards Hortensia was only tolerated because of his flawless track record. The additional compensation that he receives from the witch was also a privilege¡ªnot a given. A carrot to dangle in front of his face so he would continue to produce stellar results even when worked to the bone. A single blemish on his flawless record would wipe all those privileges away. And then there¡¯s Mia and Raz. Was it right to move them into a new city? Lower Dannan was becoming more unsafe, but Emil at least understood what to be wary of. Azure City was a completely new environment, unknown¡ªfraught with its own set of cultures, intrigues, and dangers. He would also be alone to fend for himself. Steiger¡¯s lack of presence in Azure City meant that there would be no one to back him up if he ran into trouble. What alternatives do I have? Separating from Mia and Raz was out of the question. The only other option was to demand the witch to change his assignment. That will definitely put me in trouble. He was the only one who could do this work. Refusal to accept would be tantamount to disobedience. And Steiger had no use for a dog that won¡¯t obey. Thud! The engine moving the elevator shaft grinded to a halt. The platform resounded with loud creak as it landed on the ground. Emil was back on the outskirts of Lower Dannan. The sun bled a scarlet red as it inched towards the horizon. Emil trudged back towards the tavern, still grappling with indecision¡ªwhen something caught his attention. The back of his neck suddenly flared with an irresistible itch. His Steiger training jolted him out of his thoughts. Someone¡¯s following me. Emil pretended not to notice while scanning his surroundings from his periphery. He caught a glimpse of the culprit as he rounded a corner. In the short moment that he was unseen, he ducked into a narrow alleyway off to the side of the road. His pursuer emerged around the bend a few seconds later. A hooded figure. They were visibly confused as they turned frantically, presumably looking for him. Emil silently lunged into his pursuer¡¯s blind spot. ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± he whispered, placing a hand on the person¡¯s shoulders. He felt the person flinch. ¡°Don¡¯t speak either. Unless you have a death wish,¡± he said, coating his voice with the intent to kill. The person froze, unmoving¡ªexcept for the faint shudders coursing through their body. Emil slowly pried off their hood. A bundle of hair leaked out. A feminine face. Their skin was unusually dark with a powdered texture as if it had been meticulously smeared in ash. Their eyes radiated a distinct emerald green. ¡°¡­Lisha?¡± *** It really was her. The expensive daughter of some noble family who was wandering Lower Dannan in disguise. She helped him on the night he collapsed after fighting against the Exalted from Aois Nua. Lisha had a hand over her chest. She shivered, laboring with deep haggard breaths. Sweat and tears cascaded down her cheeks, carrying bits of the powdered ash off her face as it dripped to the ground. Emil stared at her sheepishly. He was the cause of this visceral reaction. Ugh, I feel really bad. ¡°Umm, sorry about that,¡± he apologized. The young lady nearly broke down. Emil had to drag her off into the alleyway to keep her vulnerable state out of sight. With Lower Dannan in chaos, he didn¡¯t want to risk her being seen by any of the gangs that might be lurking about. ¡°I-I seriously thought you were going to kill me!¡± Lisha said between sniffles, having regained enough composure to complain. ¡°Well, it was a possibility,¡± Emil admitted. She shot him a glare. He continued, ¡°Let this be a lesson not to tail anyone in the lower district. Given how close the slums are, people are bound to be a little paranoid.¡± ¡°I think that went beyond a little paranoid!¡± Lisha protested, ¡°No normal person tries to kill someone just for following them!¡± He smirked. ¡°Well? What did you want?" ¡°¡­I just wanted to say hi. I was curious how you were doing after that night, but I wasn¡¯t sure if it was you.¡± Lisha glanced up. ¡°You see, umm, your face¡ª¡± ¡°Enough. Don¡¯t say anymore.¡± Emil raised his hands. The swollen part of his jaw suddenly flared up, searing with a dull pain. He winced, cursing the witch for giving him a make-over. Out of all the places if she could have chosen to hit. ¡°Anyways, the lower district is becoming more chaotic recently. You should probably stay out of here,¡± he warned, ¡°Whatever troubles you¡¯re running from, I can guarantee it¡¯s not worth losing your life over.¡± Lisha narrowed her eyes, ¡°Why do you assume that I¡¯m running away from something?¡± Emil stared at her blankly. ¡°Ah, is that the stereotypical story?¡± Lisha asked with a wry smile. She stood up from her slumped position, peering intently into Emil¡¯s eyes, suddenly feeling audacious, ¡°You know, when you deliver unsolicited advice, it¡¯s often because you''re projecting your own troubles onto someone else.¡± Emil¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°That¡¯s¡ª¡± He fell silent, unable to refute. Lisha¡¯s word punched deep into his guts. ¡°Just so we¡¯re clear, I¡¯m well aware that I live a privileged life. Far more than what you can imagine,¡± Lisha said with a solemn gaze, ¡°But knowing is different than experiencing. I came to the lower districts to gain a different perspective. To try and understand the plights that the commoners face. And perhaps it¡¯s presumptuous of me, but I wanted to see if there¡¯s something I can do to make life a bit easier for everyone.¡± So it wasn¡¯t running away from home, but because of a sense of noblesse oblige. Emil sighed. Which is the second most common reason why expensive daughters are found in the lower districts. He shrugged, ¡°Fair enough. I apologize for assuming.¡± ¡°Your apologies are accepted. I will, of course, still heed your advice. I could feel it myself too¡ªthe vibe of the lower district has gotten increasingly hostile lately. It¡¯ll be problematic if I get myself into trouble.¡± Lisha¡¯s expression softened as she readied to leave the alleyway, ¡°But before I leave, however,¡± she flashed him a wink, ¡°You have yet to fulfill your end of the bargain to me.¡± End of the bargain? Emil shot her a confused look. He rattled his mind for memories of their first encounter. ¡°¡­Oh, treat you to a meal?¡± ¡°Yes. It was the original reason why I wanted to see you,¡± Lisha smiled. Her emerald eyes glistened with mischief. ¡°So, what will it be, Miles? Will you treat me? Or will you rest uneasy being forever in my debt?¡± Chapter 24 - Exalted Academy Emil ¡°Sure, why not.¡± Mia¡¯s nonchalance was the last thing Emil expected when he brought up the idea of moving to Azure City. He had armed himself in advance with a list of pros and cons. He had rehearsed his talking points not once, twice, but thrice, going as far as he can to prepare himself for a heated discussion. Instead, his preparations went to waste. Mia was unexpectedly open to the idea. Excited even. ¡°But I have two conditions,¡± she said with a determined gaze, ¡°One, you let me work during the day. And two, you share your class notes with me so I can learn alongside you.¡± Emil blinked, perplexed by her second condition. ¡°¡­Yeah, I can do that. But why?¡± Her mouth curved into a wistful smile. ¡°It¡¯s fun to learn, isn¡¯t it? I¡¯ve always wanted to be a student.¡± With that, the next chapter of their life was decided. Emil sought the witch¡¯s help to fulfill Mia¡¯s first condition of finding a job in Azure City. He insisted, of course, that the job would not place her in any danger. Mia¡¯s second condition was also amiable as it gave him an excuse to visit her and Raz on the weekends. Exalted Academy was a boarding school and it expected its students to live on campus during the duration of their studies. The Academy was rather infamous for its strict curfews, not allowing students to wander outside of campus past six in the evening. It claimed that these draconian rules were necessary to foster an ideal learning environment. Emil thought that it was just a convenient excuse to keep its students gated and monitored. Talented Exalted were in high demand in Ardair, but absurdly low in supply. They were one of the most sought-after assets in this kingdom¡ªonly second to Azurite. These strict curfews were mostly in place to keep the students sheltered and ripe, until they could be safely scooped up by noble families and wealthy institutions upon graduation. That was one of the ways the Academy made its money¡ªby taking a hearty commission out of an Exalted graduate¡¯s first employment contract. Once Emil agreed to his mission, the witch immediately put him to work. The first pre-requisite that he had to clear was the Academy¡¯s entrance exams. During the day, he honed his newly awakened Gift under Steiger¡¯s tutelage. During the night, he studied diligently under the candlelight. For the first time in ages, Emil experienced some semblance of a normal life. Like a dream, the peaceful month passed in the blink of an eye. *** ¡°Congratulations,¡± the witch said, a cigar in her left and Emil¡¯s letter of enrolment in her right. The two of them were walking down a set of dark narrow corridors in the basement floor of the Steiger headquarters. ¡°You didn¡¯t win any scholarships, but you made it in.¡± ¡°Getting a scholarship wasn¡¯t the goal,¡± Emil hissed. He quickly let out a sigh of relief right after. Anxiety over the exam results had been tearing him apart. Heavy bags clouded beneath his eyes from the sleepless nights lost to worry. The uncomfortable knot in his stomach finally loosened as the good news settled in. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to be undercover anyways. Being a scholarship student would have drawn too many unwanted eyes. It would have made the investigations significantly more difficult.¡± The witch snorted, ¡°I don¡¯t necessarily agree. But sure, I¡¯ll concede if that makes you feel better.¡± Emil felt his cheeks flare. ¡°What name did you give to your Gift?¡± the witch asked, ignoring his indignation. Azure City had a unique identification system where all Exalted entering the city must have their Gifts recorded in a registry. They were then assigned a badge with their names inscribed, which granted the user permission to use their Gifts within the premise of the city. Those who unlawfully used their Gifts without a badge were immediately treated as a Desperado to be hunted down by city¡¯s police force. With the largest Exalted population in the kingdom, Azure City implemented this rule as a measure to dissuade Exalted-related crimes. ¡°¡­I named it Bulwark,¡± Emil said. The name was a reference to the defensive capabilities of his new Gift, which gave him the ability to manifest and control the earth. ¡°How cute.¡± The witch grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s establish some ground rules for your new assignment. For the sake of brevity, let¡¯s call your original Gift, Blaze. Your cover on campus will be ¡®Emil Milligan.¡¯ Any time you¡¯re acting as Emil Milligan, you¡¯re only allowed to use Bulwark as your Gift. Once you¡¯re off-campus and working on Steiger-related tasks, you will remove your badge and only use Blaze.¡± Emil nodded. It was a logical measure to separate his two identities. ¡°Now listen closely. Do not mix your Gifts unless you want to risk your cover being blown. Do not get caught as a Desperado. Consider your affiliation with Steiger severed if you¡¯re apprehended. Do not attempt to use Steiger¡¯s name to get yourself out of trouble, or the consequences will be uncivil.¡± The witch made the implications clear¡ªconsider Mia and Raz¡¯s lives forfeit if he broke this rule. It was a harsh punishment, but perhaps warranted. The witch was taking an incredible amount of risk implanting him in Azure City. If his affiliation with Steiger was ever exposed, a political incident could break out between the royal family and the Council of Mana. The witch rounded the corner of the bland corridor. Where the hell are we going anyways? Emil thought as she suddenly changed the topic, ¡°How much do you remember about your first Awakening?¡± His face hardened. The question dug up unpleasant memories that he would rather not recall. Faint vestiges of being tied down to a cold steel bed flashed in his head. He remembered thrashing about¡ªtrying to escape the contraptions and scalpels that defiled his body and pried open his insides. There was a low-hanging ceiling. There was the ever-present stench of antiseptics that meandered in the air. And then there were the unrelenting pains and dizzying hallucinations that followed.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°¡­I was torn apart and bestowed the Gift of my friends¡¯ murderer,¡± Emil said bitterly. ¡°You were implanted with some of his body parts. The end result was an artificial Awakening,¡± the witch added, ¡°The techniques used on you that day were a piece of forbidden knowledge leaked to us by an anonymous source. You were on the verge of death. As a last resort, I made the decision to use you to validate those claims in that leak.¡± Emil shot her a glare. The witch¡¯s face stayed impassive, her eyes as cold as icy snow. If she even felt an ounce of remorse or guilt over her decision, she did not it let it show. ¡°The fruits of that decision finally revealed itself. You¡¯re now the first Exalted in the history of this kingdom that possesses two Gifts. That makes you invaluable,¡± the witch proclaimed, ¡°However, there is also another implication. This knowledge had to have come from somewhere.¡± Fury surged in Emil¡¯s chest. His throat grew hot as he muttered, ¡°Someone was working on this. Experimenting on humans.¡± The witch nodded. ¡°The name of this initiative was the Bestowed Project. And as much as I yearn for the advancement of human knowledge, there are some lines that shouldn¡¯t be crossed.¡± ¡°You want me to find out who did it. You suspect the culprit is in Azure City.¡± It was a logical deduction. Azure City was at the cutting edge of research on Exalted and Azurite. It was the only place in this kingdom without Steiger¡¯s presence. Those two conditions made it the perfect breeding ground for these sorts of heretical experiments. The witch¡¯s mouth curved to an eerie smile. ¡°We have reasons to believe that project has been long discontinued. Nonetheless, your secondary objective will be to uncover evidence of the Bestowed Project. Your primary objective¡ª¡± she suddenly stopped before a set of barred doors at the end of the long, meandering corridor. ¡°¡ªis this.¡± She opened the barred doors with the turn of a key. The door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit room. The air thick with the nauseating mix of blood and antiseptics. There was a single bed along the wall. Occupied. A petite person rested on the bed. Their face was deformed, littered with bulging splotches of virulent green and dark scarlet across their cheeks. Tumors. The lumps pulsated madly, squeezing against the person¡¯s eyes and nose, rendering most of their facial features unrecognizable. Emil fought to keep his composure, not wanting to make a face at the disturbing sight. The witch walked over and carefully removed the covers over their body. This time, Emil couldn¡¯t hide his shock. The same tumors were smeared across their body. Glaring incisions and stitch marks lined the edges of their torso, indicators that the person had been pried apart and then closed up. ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± Emil cursed through his teeth. The witch placed the covers back over the person. ¡°A survivor. She came from Azure City. Likely, she was a subject of human experimentation,¡± the witch uttered with a frightening calm, ¡°Your long-term assignment is to collect evidence of Azure City¡¯s heretical experiments. If possible, you are to find the malicious actors enabling these cruel acts to continue.¡± *** The day of the entrance ceremony arrived. Emil ventured into Azure City with a modest suitcase filled with his belongings, eager to settle into his new living space on the campus dorms. Mia and Raz had already moved into the city a couple of days prior with Steiger¡¯s assistance. Emil planned to meet them later on a weekend. The morning sun was gentle. Excited chatters sang in the air from students, parents, and servants eagerly anticipating the start of the school year. Emil crossed the gates and stepped foot onto the campus of Exalted Academy. Immediately, his heart swelled, beating with awe. The path beneath his feet was paved in polished, patterned brick. Beautifully trimmed hedges lined the trail. Alongside the hedges were plots of land lined with trees and vivid flowers in full bloom, not dissimilar to the views of a miniature orchard. Students were found basking beneath the shade of the trees or resting on the various terraces scattered along the campus grounds¡ªchatting or pouring over large books. It¡¯s similar to Upper Dannan. But the vibe is distinctively different. If he had to describe it more succinctly, the d¨¦cor and hanging gardens of Upper Dannan were built to impress. The splendor of its exotic plants and vibrant layouts were designed to seize your attention, inviting you to gawk and marvel in awe of its display. The campus of Exalted Academy, while still splendid, was far more modest in its approach. The design was easy on the eyes and the layout was practical and spacious. For someone whose childhood was rooted in books and nature, Emil should have been overjoyed to be in this environment. Instead, his heart was threatening to explode out of his body. Calm down. He clenched his chest. His neck was damp with sweat. The edge of his fingers quivered, abuzz with the dread of danger looming in the back of his mind. Emil fought to keep his face neutral, trying not to stand out amidst the myriads of eyes gazing around. The source of his distress was the number of Exalted in his vicinity. Their constant presence in every direction made him extremely uncomfortable. They¡¯re not your enemies. He repeated the statement in his head, desperate to convince his body to tone down his combative instincts. For the past few years under Steiger, he had been conditioned to see other Exalted as a threat. Aside from Van and the witch, the only other Exalted that he came into contact with were Desperados while on the job. Those encounters would always end in bloodshed. He would emerge battered and scarred¡ªforced to use Blaze as he fought a self-destructive battle. Somewhere along the line, his survival instincts began to associate other Exalted with danger. Those same instincts that kept him alive were now threatening to break him apart. Emil felt his vision blur. Fear continued to gnaw the back of his mind. The mental battle of keeping his frazzled nerves intact was overwhelming. The ordeal was only intensified by his Awakening. His sensitivity to mana had increased significantly¡ªenough to sense the small perturbations from students nearby. All of it manifested as searing itches across his skin. They¡¯re students. They¡¯re not Desperados. They¡¯re not your enemies. They¡¯re just here to study. They don¡¯t mean you any harm¡ª ¡°Excuse me!¡± An irritated voice blared in his ears, jolting him awake from his daze. Emil spun around, lashing out his right arm by instinct. Shit! He quickly realized his mistake. He tried to pull his outstretched arm back, but it was already too late. Thud! His victim was a female student. Petite. Her scarlet hair dangled to her shoulders. A pair of bright, doe eyes stared at him, wide with disbelief. Her belongings, scattered across the ground, had been knocked out of her arms. Emil would have found her cute, if he wasn¡¯t mortified by what he had just done. ¡°I¡¯m sor¡ª¡± ¡°Do you have a death wish?¡± Emil froze. The cute face immediately deformed into a monstrous visage. The chilling question radiated murderous intent. Before he could explain himself, the girl lunged. Mana swelled, engulfing her vessel in a layer of azure. Spontaneously, the coat of mana snapped, blooming into sparks of electricity. The shrill cackle of electric discharge filled the air. Emil immediately took a step back. His hands itched. Inadvertently, he found an outlet for all the combative energy rampaging in his body. The witch¡¯s ground rules echoed in his head as he channeled Bulwark. His hands were suddenly enveloped by a gauntlet of stone. ¡°Die!¡± the girl screamed. She was absurdly fast. Emil could barely follow her movements with his eyes. It was only through the minute mana fluctuations around her limbs that he could anticipate her intent. Boom! His armored hand collided against her fist. Emil felt a jolt of energy rush down to his shoulder. He winced at the dull pain, shocked by the petite girl¡¯s power. The girl was equally surprised¡ªher eyes raised in alarm. But her hesitation barely lasted a second. Without warning, she instantly whipped around to deliver a high-arcing kick. Emil ducked beneath the attempt as the whizz of electricity screeched past his ears. Her Gift is bad news. Sensing that he was at a disadvantage, Emil jumped back. He was contemplating his next move, when¡ª ¡°Stop! Cease your fighting!¡± the authoritative voice knocked out of his fighting trance. Clarity poured over his head as his lust for combat dissipated. Suddenly, he remembered his situation. Right, I¡¯m supposed to be a student. He found himself surrounded by a cadre of Academy staff members. Behind the staff, students across the campus were gawking at him. Shit. What have I done? He grimaced with regret as he raised his hands to surrender to the Academy staff. Chapter 25 - Scarlet-haired Seibert (1) Anna Anna was having a terrible day. It started from the onset of dawn when the sun had barely risen above the horizon. She got up early and stepped out of her temporary residence in Azure City, excited to begin her new life as a student of the prestigious Exalted Academy¡ªonly to find a set of disgusting, degrading messages smeared along the walls and doors of her stay. She wasted ten minutes cleaning after the mess. Next, as she trotted down the street of Azure City enroute to the Academy, she was stopped by a group of Ordinary vandals blocking her path. It was frankly a pathetic attempt to scare her away from attending the opening ceremony. With a quick blast of electricity, she neutralized the threat and called over the Sentinels patrolling the area to take the goons away. Another five minutes wasted. It wasn¡¯t until she neared the campus gates when a set of horse carriages intentionally slung mud into her face that she got the message. She was deliberately being harassed. It didn¡¯t take long for her to figure out why. Exalted Academy was not simply just an institution for learning, but it was also a scouting ground for Exalted talent. Each year, ahead of the opening ceremony, the Academy released a public list ranking their new students based on their admission scores. It was judged on a combination of theoretical knowledge scored on the exams and practical skills demonstrated during the evaluation. The top ten students were granted scholarships, along with an abundance of interest from the noble families and wealthy institutions seeking their talents. Anna was the sole commoner amongst the top ten. Inevitably that drew a lot of attention¡ªattention that she had hoped to use as leverage to demand her rightful place amongst her family¡¯s merchant company. What she didn¡¯t expect, however, was the childish harassment she would receive in exchange. No doubt it was the work of students from noble families who felt their pride scratched for being rated below a commoner. By the time she finally arrived on campus, she was already fuming. Getting her belongings knocked to the ground by another student threw her fury past the tipping point. *** ¡°Well, this is certainly a historic moment. Never once in my tenure at the Academy have I ever witnessed two students getting into a fight right before the opening ceremony,¡± a bespectacled man in his early 30s said while scratching his neck in disbelief. There were traces of grey in his slick black hair. His face, well-structured and symmetrical, was already littered with wrinkles and signs of being worn by age. His eyes were relaxed and soft, however, bestowing him with the air of a gentle disposition. ¡°And it just happens to be two of my students. Admittedly, this is a rather awkward way to get acquainted, but such is life I suppose. I¡¯m Professor Callum,¡± the man introduced himself, ¡°I¡¯m your homeroom teacher and I give lectures on mana fundamentals.¡± After the fight, Anna found herself escorted to an office designated for the Academy staff. A rosy fragrance permeated the room with modest furnishings. She was seated on a couch, her arms crossed, the fingers on her right hand tapping incessantly at the hems of her sleeves. Her assailant was across from her, aghast with a mortified expression. It took most of her willpower to stop herself from lunging at him. ¡°Anna Seibert. Emil Milligan,¡± Professor Callum addressed them, ¡°Would the two of you please explain to me what led to this¡­unprecedented event?¡± ¡°What is there to explain? He assaulted me,¡± Anna stated plainly. The boy named Emil immediately raised his hands, desperately shaking his head in denial. ¡°H-Hold on, that¡¯s not¡ª¡± ¡°What? You clearly swung your fist at me. Or are you going to suggest that I just threw my stuff onto the ground on purpose so I can have an excuse to attack you?!¡± ¡°No, I¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m sick of it! I¡¯m sick of all you damn cowards who keep harassing me out of some misplaced sense of pride. It¡¯s been happening all morning! If you have an issue with me, then face me head-on without any frivolous schemes!¡± she yelled. All of the frustration that she kept bottled in the entire morning spewed out. Anna tried to hold onto her composure for the sake of keeping peace on the opening day. She was planning to deal with her tormentors later. That plan went into flames the moment she snapped and retaliated. Now that she was already in trouble, she aired out all of her grievances without a care.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Hey,¡± Emil suddenly said. The word echoed unusually loud in her head. Anna instinctively froze. Her eyes went wide. The anger raging inside her heart suddenly extinguished as if she had been drenched by cold water. What the hell was that? She glanced down. The tips of her fingers were trembling. A surge of murderous intent. ¡°Can I speak? I¡¯d like to explain my side of the story,¡± Emil continued. His voice sounded normal this time. The suffocating pressure that radiated from his presence vanished. The danger that seized the air was so fleeting, so instantaneous that Anna began questioning her sanity. Did I imagine that? She shot a glance at Professor Callum. The professor was watching her, waiting with an eye raised, as if he was perplexed by her silence. ¡°Y-Yeah,¡± she replied. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She gulped, suddenly cognizant of the boy in front of her and the menacing scars that lined his jaws. Emil quickly explained his side of story, stating that he was on edge from all the Exalted roaming on campus. Apparently, their presences made him nervous due to an incident in his childhood. When Anna addressed him from behind, he panicked and lashed out inadvertently. ¡°Again, I¡¯m sorry for knocking into you. It was an accident and I seriously didn¡¯t mean any harm,¡± he apologized, lowering his head without hesitation. Anna narrowed her eyes. She considered herself a good judge of character¡ªa skill that she honed from a young age as a former merchant apprentice. Still, she found himself confounded. Emil¡¯s apology felt genuine, but¡ª ¡ªHe has the face of a liar. The incongruity only raised more alarms in her head. Her instincts were rarely wrong. And yet, somehow her gut feelings told her two different stories. ¡°¡­Fine. I accept your apology,¡± she said, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. There wasn¡¯t much she could do anyways. She might have been able to pressure the professors to punish him, but Anna felt like it was unnecessarily cruel. The stain on her reputation would have been far worse than any vindication she could receive. Her declaration earned a loud, satisfied clap from Professor Callum. ¡°Great! I¡¯m glad this was all a misunderstanding. We can forget it all happened,¡± the professor said, a bit too eager to drop the issue, ¡°Anna, if you like, the Academy could investigate on your behalf to find out who¡¯s been harassing you.¡± Anna waved him off. ¡°It¡¯s fine. It¡¯s all just petty nonsense right now. I can deal with that myself.¡± ¡°As long as it¡¯s within the Academy rules,¡± Professor Callum said as he glanced at the clock, ¡°Now then, if you hurry, you might still be able to reach the opening ceremony on time.¡± *** The opening ceremony was conducted in the Grand Hall located in the southeastern quadrant of the Academy. True to its name, it was a hall¡ªand it was grand. Aside from those attributes, the hall was quite disappointing from Anna¡¯s point of view. The name of Exalted Academy should have commanded more grandeur than a simple set of chandeliers dangling from the ceiling and a set of portraits engraved in gold frames adorning the walls. Anna found herself surrounded at the center of the hall. The massive stage towered from the front, granting her line of sight onto the speakers on the platform despite her diminutive height. The first one to step on was the Headmaster of the Academy, Ivar von Tuatha. The short, round man trudged onto the platform with a slight hunchback¡ªhis physique hardly impressive compared to his title. Yet as he stepped onto the podium to address the students, his voice rang with unmistakable authority. ¡°Class of Year 75, I greet you as the Headmaster of Exalted Academy! Welcome!¡± Deafening applause filled the hall in an instant as Ivar beckoned for a reaction. A natural orator, Anna thought as she followed along with the cacophony. Ivar¡¯s speech was short and to the point, introducing himself and giving an encouraging welcome to the arriving class. A stellar performance befitting of the person who led the Academy¡¯s operations. The other speakers that accompanied him, however, were far less impressive. Each of them sounded like pompous, self-important people who came on just to present a thinly veiled speech to boast about their greatness. There was a special kind of off-putting boredom that involved listening to people who were in love with the sound of their own voices. Anna fought the urge to roll her eyes. The only thing that stopped her was the uncomfortable number of glances shot in her vicinity. Yes, yes, I¡¯m the girl who got into a fight this morning. How could you possibly tell? If she had to guess, it was her brilliant scarlet hair¡ªan apparent hallmark of the Seibert family. The faint traces of mana lingering around her body and the edges of her uniform that were charred by electricity probably didn¡¯t help either. Rushing to the ceremony didn¡¯t afford her any time to change. Whatever, she sighed. Her original plan was to keep a low profile until the Clash of Dawn tournament later this month, but that idea immediately got derailed. At least she had some infamy now. Whoever was actually behind all of her harassment this morning will probably stop after she¡¯s shown her willingness to get violent. On the topic of violence, Anna glanced down on her hands, frowning as she recalled this morning¡¯s confrontation. Emil Milligan. As hard as she thought, she couldn¡¯t recall seeing his name amongst the top thirty students from the admission scores. ¡­I got stopped by a non-ranker? Heat flared in her chest. She grinded her teeth, her hands suddenly balled into fists. She didn¡¯t hesitate in that brief exchange against Emil¡ªshe attacked with all her might, fully intent to strike him down. Despite that, her attack was stopped. The realization drove her mad. Her plans to make a name for herself at the Academy was in serious jeopardy if she couldn¡¯t even overpower someone of his caliber. Suddenly, her goals seemed unreachable. This is unacceptable! She severed relationships. She gave up opportunities. She pushed herself to brink of insanity¡ªjust so she could attend this academy to have a chance to choose for a future for herself. The opening ceremony came to an end. Anna glared at the podium, immersed in her despair, to the background of thunderous applause.