Kaiz quickly calmed his face, before his shock reached it. They ran a lot of jobs simultaneously, maybe he was just being paranoid.

“I couldn’t care less how anything we do affects you.”

Crypt rolled his eyes, “I’m painfully aware. Your partner would think otherwise. Where you hurt me, you hurt others who are far less opposed to squashing a tiny little bug scowling under a tree.”

Kaiz’s glare turned murderous, “Another prophecy?”

“A warning. You’re all very talented, for tanlars. Don’t be lulled into believing that makes you kingpins.”

“What, like you?” Kaiz mocked. “We’ve always been meticulous in our work. We don’t need reminders.”

“But apparently you do. Conan just lost more than half of his enforcers and everyone knows you’re involved.”

What? Ho—idiot! We should have seen that coming. Did Viz? We’re the only other crew up in the North West. If Conan keeps his mouth shut about the Nightwatchers, that implicates us. He could then run with that narrative and tell Snake we double crossed him. Would Snake take that as a direct affront? Would leaking a bit of the truth help? Shit.

Crypt took Kaiz’s silence as confirmation, “Now, as you know, the noble council likes a bit of violence between the gangs. Keeps everyone in check and quietly under their thumb. They don’t like unknown entities, however. A previously negligible group of children suddenly taking a bite out of a known operation raises flags. Problematic flags. They want a closer look at who and what you are. Which means, a closer look into who’s backing you. I’m sure you can understand the inconvenience of that.”

Kaiz raised an eyebrow, “I can, but you haven’t ‘backed’ us in a number of years. What threat is there to you?”

“I may not directly, but don’t forget who helped you forge the ties you now hold. What would happen if an inquisition occurred and one of them was caught?”

Kaiz smiled, “No loyalty among your friends Crypt? Though I understand, you’re one foot into the beyond, anyway.”

Crypt’s eye twitched, rousing a chuckle from Kaiz.

“It seems they do 'bear fruit'." He chuckled a bit more, "You can relax. I understand what you’re getting at. You want us to lie low, hide our tracks, evade inspection, bubaye, bubaye, bubaye. I get it. But I’m confused why you came yourself? If that was all, this was a very unnecessary trip.”

“I was merely in the area.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

Crypt looked at his watch and smirked, “Believe what you wish. As long as you understand the situation, that’s enough.”

He swiftly stood up and left. Very much in a hurry. Kaiz briefly entertained the idea of following him, but decided against it. He wasn’t particularly adept at stealth, and the chances of Crypt moving around the slums without serious protection were slim to none. He may have had friends within the city, but he had nothing but enemies outside of it.

I wonder what slimy shit he’s getting up to.

He looked at his failed rune.

Definitely too late now.

Now he lacked the mental strength to be productive. Still, he slipped his mask and some sandals on and headed outside. He had no destination in mind, he’d just wander. The evening air should help him calm his thoughts. It was the perfect time for a walk, winter had arrived. In Goldfrucht, a desert kingdom, ‘winter’ just translated to ‘rainy season’. The brief part of the year where every other day was cloudy, and the weather was actually decent.

We can probably ignore the inquisition. Doubt they’d go through with it, this Zone is as poor and inconsequential as it gets.

The slums were divided into twelve zones, generally marked by their direction relative to Walldaun. North West was the least valuable of the lot. The almost complete lack of interest in it by larger forces was a big reason they could rapidly, and quietly, build their power and influence. Even Snake didn’t care for the Zone, Conan was just a greedy bastard.

I can’t imagine they’d waste the resources. But. Even if they do, we’ve pretty much gotten rid of all of our so-called ‘backers’. Hell, it may prove the perfect opportunity to remove any lingering strings. We can use them as contacts if we ever need to, but they should have no say in or pay from what we do. No. If getting ousted for his illegal affiliations was a serious prospect, it wouldn’t be us that caused it.

Crypt made much of his early money feeding the city drugs. Devil dust, to be specific. It was a horrendously addictive hallucinogen, pushing its user into a state very similar to lucid dreaming. Their bodies would lay unmoving while their wildest fantasies played in their heads. With full control of themselves within the dream, it was pure paradise. The physical cost, though, was paralyzation. The first few hits would leave a man limp for only an hour after they woke up, but by the tenth, even a level 30 general would lay immobile for days.

The council cracked down on it fairly quickly. Its effects on productivity were immediately apparent. Throughout that crackdown, Crypt remained completely untouched. Kaiz didn’t buy the idea he was even remotely worried.

The bigger issue here is what is Conan going to do and how will Snake respond? Could we keep the heat on him? If we leak that Conan fought some titleds, the council should view him as just an overambitious thug. No need to get us involved. But then that ran the risk of the Nightwatchers piecing together the truth. If they succeeded, they’d come for our heads. Even if they didn’t, though, Snake would hear the rumor and almost certainly know it came from us. What would he do?

Distracted by his thoughts, Kaiz almost failed to see the distinct flash of a spell being cast. Almost. He immediately lunged to the side. As he moved, he watched two mana arrows embed themselves in the ground. They blinked out of existence a moment later. He swiftly vetoed the ‘wait to get shot’ plan and scrambled into the nearest shack. In his aimless wandering, he’d walked into the slums.

An ambush?!

He burst out of the back of the shack and ran. More arrows flew. Even as he zigzagged through the mess of homes, they found him. The archer was a sure shot. Each arrow seemed to home in on his forehead. If not for the fact Kaiz could see exactly when they cast their spell, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to dodge them. He barely dodged them now.

Damn it!

He didn’t have his boots on, or any enchanted gear at all, for that matter. Fighting at range was already his weak spot, without any gear it was a gaping hole. He could only do one thing.

[Execute: Fire hands]

He activated his trump card. If they were going to fight him with ranged spells, thinking he was easy pickings, they were in for a rude awakening. He pivoted, scanning his surroundings. For a moment everything was quiet, then he spotted them. They glowed white, and they were running.

Oh no you don’t!

He gave chase, but quickly found his speed lacking. Instead of gaining ground, they were just getting away. They weaved through the shacks and hovels with even greater ease than Kaiz could manage with his boots on. When they vaulted onto a roof in one bound, he gave up. There was no chance he’d catch them as he was now. He’d just waste his own energy.

Bastard. Who the hell was that? The girl from before? Who uses mana arrows?

A massive headache formed behind his eyes. So many things were going on at once.

I need to stay hidden for a while. Let this all simmer down. Viz can handle it on his own.

That was what Viz excelled at anyway, scheming and counter scheming. He’d figure it out. Kaiz, on the other hand, would get back to his runes. He’d go back the long way, though, just in case there was another ambusher.

Lost in his thoughts, he had walked all the way down to one of the only three wells in the North West Zone. There weren’t many people around, night time approached, but he did spot a few people moving around listlessly. Beggars, most likely. Kaiz could only silently shake his head. If they were just born with titles, they wouldn’t be wallowing around a well, praying someone was kind enough to drop them some food or money.

The more he observed, the more he pitied them. They looked lifeless. As if their minds were already gone and they were merely waiting for their bodies to follow. He was in a similar place not too long ago. Before he arrived in Walldaun, a good meal was rarer than snow. He’d come a long way since those times, but he’d never forget those days.

I’m such a sap.

Against his better judgement, he brought out his coin purse and handed everyone he saw two bigsilver coins. It wouldn’t change their lives or anything, but it’d pay for simple food for a week. He didn’t like giving handouts. He’d seen many who’d given up on themselves squander opportunity after opportunity, he’d also seen people with the tools and drive to be successful if only someone gave them the chance, however.

This wasn’t exactly ‘giving them a chance’, but it was better than being completely callous. He wouldn’t dare call himself a philanthropist, but he struggled to ignore suffering right in front of his eyes.

Ten minutes of receiving ‘thank you’s later, he headed towards the southern hideout. With how deep into the zone he already was, it didn’t take long for it to come into sight. A small smirk rose from him as he arrived at the only three-storey building in the area. Even knowing its true purpose, calling it a hideout just felt wrong. The building was about as conspicuous as you could be in the slums; well-built, clean, and crawling with people.

When he emerged from the darkness, the alert ones looked towards him, some reaching for their weapons, but when they saw his mask and build they went back to their business. In a weird way, his anonymity made him the most well-known person in the crew. Everyone knew he wasn’t for socializing. Most assumed it was because he was slow. He hated the assumption at first, but it had proved useful over the years.

He ignored them and kept moving, adding a bit of umph to his step. The guards at the entrance gave him a simple nod as he waltzed in. He scrunched his nose as soon as he entered. The stench reaching it was disgusting. Not quite revolting, but leaving was still an immediate priority. He strolled through the bar, doing his best to ignore the scent of alcohol, vomit, and unwashed bodies. Fortunately, it was too early for the true festivities. Unfortunately, Code was getting drunk anyway.

“Ayyy! The Silent Ghost himself! The greatest runner in all of Goldfrucht! Cheers for the Silent Ghost!”

A couple of men raised their mugs in cheers, but the vast majority of the room merely grunted.

“Come, come. Sit, drink. Another drink!”

Kaiz sighed, “No.”

He tried to keep moving, but Code grabbed his arm, “Come on!”

“I ain’t no drinker.”

Code waxed on about ‘activities of companionship’ and not betraying their years of friendship, but Kaiz knew it was all an act. They both knew he wasn’t going to take his mask off here. Code was just bored. As such, Kaiz calmly removed his arm from his grasp and moved to the second floor. The second floor was ‘staff only’, which obviously meant it was empty. As soon as the sun set, you were either on a job, on a bed, or on your way to a painful morning. Kaiz wasn’t up there to do paper work either, despite what his rummaging through files would have an observer believe.

There you are.

He pulled out a thick sheet of paper.

Hmm. We’re running low. I’ll have to make some more of these.

He left the sheet on the table and pulled out a smaller, thinner paper. On the smaller sheet, he jotted down the details of his conversation with Crypt and his stalker turned assailant. He included some of his own insight and theories, but for the most part he left the work to Viz.

Finished writing the note, he hid it within a secret compartment. Once he was sure it was properly concealed, he grabbed the thicker sheet of paper and moved to a corner of the room. There, he placed it flat on the floor. It immediately lit up before slowly disintegrating. Under it, the floor lit up as well. Instead of disintegrating, a hatch opened. A ladder waited within.

Under their hideout, and much of the slums, an impressive array of tunnels stretched out. They didn’t know who built them or when, but it didn’t matter. They had them fully scouted and they controlled every access point. One such access point was very close to his own personal hideout.

Once he trudged to that particular point, he slowly lifted the hatch and scanned his surroundings. He should have been clear, but it didn’t hurt to be extra cautious. There were no signs of an ambush or a tracker or any soul at all. Confident he was home free, he climbed out and jogged into the forest. His problems shelved for another day.

At the top floor of Timeless Sands Tower, the third the tallest building in Walldaun, a group of four high-leveled individuals gathered. Hidden behind one of the strongest magical barriers in all of Goldfrucht, they debated.

The first voice was agitated, “It’s simple. We’ve run out of time. We can not afford to stay here any longer. We either bring him in now or leave without him.”

The second was stern, “Why the impatience? We have months until their arrival. If the boy is one of us, we can not leave him behind. Best case, it’s a betrayal of our cause. Worst case...”

“The worst case would be all of our operations in Goldfruct being uncovered. That is what we’re risking.”

The third, cold, “I stand with the knight. Whatever our decision, we must make it now. You know how much the bastards love an unexpected appearance.”

“You would forgo your duties because of a baseless fear?”

“Our duties are to far more than one boy.”

“To betray him due process is to betray our principles.”

The final voice was quiet, yet commanding. It came like a whisper in the wind, but struck with a thunderous roar, “Our mission here is complete...besides the boy. He ties us here...but he does not tie us here.”

“But, but. It is tradition for one of us to conduct the initiation.”

“Tradition...but not doctrine.”

“But..I..its.”

“Give it up. It’s three to one, we’re leaving.”

“This..this has never been done.”

“We tell many stories...not all of them are true. We are not as great...as you young ones believe. Many brothers and sisters...have been abandoned for the greater good. There are no texts...for their sacrifice. Just memories.” They paused, “We can only pray...that he is not another.”

He can’t possibly know about the Nightwatcher run? Right?

“I couldn’t care less how anything we do affects you.”

Crypt rolled his eyes, “I’m painfully aware. Your partner would think otherwise. Where you hurt me, you hurt others who are far less opposed to squashing a tiny little bug scowling under a tree.”

Kaiz’s glare turned murderous, “Another prophecy?”

“A warning. You’re all very talented, for tanlars. Don’t be lulled into believing that makes you kingpins.”

“What, like you?” Kaiz mocked. “We’ve always been meticulous in our work. We don’t need reminders.”

“But apparently you do. Conan just lost more than half of his enforcers and everyone knows you’re involved.”

What? Ho—idiot! We should have seen that coming. Did Viz? We’re the only other crew up in the North West. If Conan keeps his mouth shut about the Nightwatchers, that implicates us. He could then run with that narrative and tell Snake we double crossed him. Would Snake take that as a direct affront? Would leaking a bit of the truth help? Shit.

Crypt took Kaiz’s silence as confirmation, “Now, as you know, the noble council likes a bit of violence between the gangs. Keeps everyone in check and quietly under their thumb. They don’t like unknown entities, however. A previously negligible group of children suddenly taking a bite out of a known operation raises flags. Problematic flags. They want a closer look at who and what you are. Which means, a closer look into who’s backing you. I’m sure you can understand the inconvenience of that.”

Kaiz raised an eyebrow, “I can, but you haven’t ‘backed’ us in a number of years. What threat is there to you?”

“I may not directly, but don’t forget who helped you forge the ties you now hold. What would happen if an inquisition occurred and one of them was caught?”

Kaiz smiled, “No loyalty among your friends Crypt? Though I understand, you’re one foot into the beyond, anyway.”

Crypt’s eye twitched, rousing a chuckle from Kaiz.

“Relax old man. I understand what you’re getting at and I can guess what you wish us to do, but I’m confused why you came yourself? If that was all, this was a very unnecessary trip.”

“I was merely in the area.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

Crypt looked at his watch and smirked, “Believe what you wish. As long as you understand the situation, that’s enough.”

He swiftly stood up and left. Very much in a hurry. Kaiz briefly entertained the idea of following him, but decided against it. He wasn’t particularly adept at stealth, and the chances of Crypt moving around the slums without serious protection were slim to none. He may have had friends within the city, but he had nothing but enemies outside of it.

I wonder what slimy shit he’s getting up to.

He looked at his failed rune.

Definitely too late now.

Now he lacked the mental strength to be productive. Still, he slipped his mask and some sandals on and headed outside. He had no destination in mind, he’d just wander. The evening air should help him calm his thoughts. It was the perfect time for a walk, winter had arrived. In Goldfrucht, a desert kingdom, ‘winter’ just translated to ‘rainy season’. The brief part of the year where every day was cloudy, and the weather was actually decent.

We can probably ignore the inquisition. Doubt they’d go through with it, this Zone is as poor and inconsequential as it gets.

The slums were divided into twelve zones, generally marked by their direction relative to Walddaun. North West was the least valuable of the lot. The almost complete lack of interest in it by larger forces was a big reason they could rapidly, and quietly, build their power and influence. Even Snake didn’t care for the Zone, Conan was just a greedy bastard.

I can’t imagine they’d waste the resources. But. Even if they do, we’ve pretty much gotten rid of all of our so-called ‘backers’. Hell, it may prove the perfect opportunity to remove any lingering strings. We can use them as contacts if we ever need to, but they should have no say in or pay from what we do. No. If getting ousted for his illegal affiliations was a serious prospect, it wouldn’t be us that caused it.

Crypt made much of his early money feeding the city drugs. Devil dust, to be specific. It was horrendously addictive hallucinogen, pushing its user into a state very similar to lucid dreaming. Their bodies would lay unmoving while their wildest fantasies played in their heads. With full control of themselves within the dream, it was pure paradise. The physical cost, though, was paralyzation. The first few hits would leave a man limp for only an hour after they woke up, but by the tenth, even a level 30 general would lay immobile for days.

The council cracked down on it fairly quickly. Its effects on productivity were immediately apparent. Throughout that crackdown, Crypt remained completely untouched. Kaiz didn’t buy the idea he was even remotely worried.

The bigger issue here is what is Conan going to do and how will Snake respond? Could we keep the heat on to him? If we leak that Conan fought some titleds, the council should view him as just an overambitious thug. No need to get us involved. But then that ran the risk of the Nightwatchers piecing together the truth. If they succeeded, they’d come for our heads. Even if they didn’t, though, Snake would hear the rumor and almost certainly know it came from us. What would he do?

Distracted by his thoughts, Kaiz almost failed to see the distinct flash of a spell being cast. Almost. He immediately lunged to the side. As he moved, he watched two mana arrows embed themselves in the ground. They blinked out of existence a moment later. He swiftly vetoed the ‘wait to get shot’ plan and scrambled into the nearest shack. In his aimless wandering, he’d walked into the slums.

An ambush?!

He burst out of the back of the shack and ran. More arrows flew. Even as he zigzagged through the mess of homes, they found him. The archer was a sure shot. Each arrow seemed to home in on his forehead. If not for the fact Kaiz could see exactly when they cast their spell, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to dodge them. He barely dodged them now.

Damn it!

He didn’t have his boots on, or any enchanted gear at all, for that matter. Fighting at range was already his weak spot, without any gear it was a gaping hole. He could only do one thing.

[Execute: Fire hands]

He activated his trump card. If they were going to fight him with ranged spells, thinking he was easy pickings, they were in for a rude awakening. He pivoted, scanning his surroundings. For a moment everything was quiet, then he spotted them. They glowed white, and they were running.

Oh no you don’t!

He gave chase, but quickly found his speed lacking. Instead of gaining ground, they were just getting away. They weaved through the shacks and hovels with even greater ease than Kaiz could manage with his boots on. When they vaulted onto a roof in one bound, he gave up. There was no chance he’d catch them as he was now. He’d just waste his own energy.

Bastard. Who the hell was that? The girl from before? Who uses mana arrows?

A massive headache formed behind his eyes. So many things were going on at once.

I need to lay low for a while. Let this all simmer down. Viz can handle it on his own.

That was what Viz excelled at anyway, scheming and counter scheming. He’d figure it out. Kaiz, on the other hand, would get back to his runes. He’d go back the long way, though, just in case there was another ambusher.

Lost in his thoughts, he had walked all the way down to one of the only three wells in the North West Zone. There weren’t many people around, night time approached, but he did spot a few people moving around listlessly. Beggars, most likely. Kaiz could only silently shake his head. If they were just born with titles, they wouldn’t be wallowing around a well, praying someone was kind enough to drop them some food or money.

The more he observed, the more he pitied them. They looked lifeless. As if their minds were already gone and they were merely waiting for their bodies to follow. He was in a similar place not too long ago. Before he arrived in Walddaun, a good meal was rarer than snow. He’d come a long way since those times, but he’d never forget those days.

I’m such a sap.

Against his better judgement, he brought out his coin purse and handed everyone he saw two bigsilver coins. It wouldn’t change their lives or anything, but it’d pay for simple food for a week. He didn’t like giving handouts. He’d seen many who’d given up on themselves squander opportunity after opportunity, he’d also seen people with the tools and drive to be successful if only someone gave them the chance, however.

This wasn’t exactly ‘giving them a chance’, but it was better than being completely callous. He wouldn’t dare call himself a philanthropist, but he struggled to ignore suffering right in front of his eyes.

Ten minutes of receiving ‘thank you’s later, he headed towards the southern hideout. With how deep into the zone he already was, it didn’t take long for it to come into sight. A small smirk rose from him as he arrived at the only three-storey building in the area. Even knowing its true purpose, calling it a hideout just felt wrong. The building was about as conspicuous as you could be in the slums; well-built, clean, and crawling with people.

When he emerged from the darkness, the alert ones looked towards him, some reaching for their weapons, but when they saw his mask and build they went back to their business. In a weird way, his anonymity made him the most well-known person in the crew. Everyone knew he wasn’t for socializing. Most assumed it was because he was slow. He hated the assumption at first, but it had proved useful over the years.

He ignored them and kept moving, adding a bit of umph to his step. The guards at the entrance gave him a simple nod as he waltzed in. He scrunched his nose as soon as he entered. The stench reaching it was disgusting. Not quite revolting, but leaving was still an immediate priority. He strolled through the bar, doing his best to ignore the scent of alcohol, vomit, and unwashed bodies. Fortunately, it was too early for the true festivities. Unfortunately, Code was getting drunk anyway.

“Ayyy! The Silent Ghost himself! The greatest runner in all of Goldfrucht! Cheers for the Silent Ghost!”

A couple of men raised their mugs in cheers, but the vast majority of the room merely grunted.

“Come, come. Sit, drink. Another drink!”

Kaiz sighed, “No.”

He tried to keep moving, but Code grabbed his arm, “Come on!”

“I ain’t no drinker.”

Code waxed on about ‘activities of companionship’ and not betraying their years of friendship, but Kaiz knew it was all an act. They both knew he wasn’t going to take his mask off here. Code was just bored. As such, Kaiz calmly removed his arm from his grasp and moved to the second floor. The second floor was ‘staff only’, which obviously meant it was empty. As soon as the sun set, you were either on a job, on a bed, or on your way to a painful morning. Kaiz wasn’t up there to do paper work either, despite what his rummaging through files would have an observer believe.

There you are.

He pulled out a thick sheet of paper.

Hmm. We’re running low. I’ll have to make some more of these.

He left the sheet on the table and pulled out a smaller, thinner paper. On the smaller sheet, he jotted down the details of his conversation with Crypt and his stalker turned assailant. He included some of his own insight and theories, but for the most part he left the work to Viz.

Finished writing the note, he hid it within a secret compartment. Once he was sure it was properly concealed, he grabbed the thicker sheet of paper and moved to a corner of the room. There, he placed it flat on the floor. It immediately lit up before slowly disintegrating. Under it, the floor lit up as well. Instead of disintegrating, a hatch opened. A ladder waited within.

Under their hideout, and much of the slums,an impressive array of tunnels stretched out. They didn’t know who built them or when, but it didn’t matter. They had them fully scouted and they controlled every access point. One such access point was very close to his own personal hideout.

Once he trudged to that particular point, he slowly lifted the hatch and scanned his surroundings. He should have been clear, but it didn’t hurt to be extra cautious. There were no signs of an ambush or a tracker or any soul at all. Confident he was home free, he climbed out and jogged into the forest. His problems shelved for another day.

At the top floor of Timeless Sands Tower, the third the tallest building in Walddaun, a group of four high-leveled individuals gathered. Hidden behind one of the strongest magical barriers in all of Goldfrucht, they debated.

The first voice was agitated, “It’s simple. We’ve run out of time. We can not afford to stay here any longer. We either bring him in now or leave without him.”

The second was stern, “Why the impatience? We have months until their arrival. If the boy is one of us, we can not leave him behind. Best case, it’s a betrayal of our cause. Worst case...”

“The worst case would be all of our operations in Goldfruct being uncovered. That is what we’re risking.”

The third, cold, “I stand with the knight. Whatever our decision, we must make it now. You know how much the bastards love an unexpected appearance.”

“You would forgo your duties because of a baseless fear?”

“Our duties are to far more than one boy.”

“To betray him due process is to betray our principles.”

The final voice was quiet, yet commanding. It came like a whisper in the wind, but struck with a thunderous roar, “Our mission here is complete...besides the boy. He ties us here...but he does not tie us here.”

“But, but. It is tradition for one of us to conduct the initiation.”

“Tradition...but not doctrine.”

“But..I..its.”

“Give it up. It’s three to one, we’re leaving.”

“This..this has never been done.”

“We tell many stories...not all of them are true. We are not as great...as you young ones believe. Many brothers and sisters...have been abandoned for the greater good. There are no texts...for their sacrifice. Just memories.” They paused, “We can only pray...that he is not another.”