Arthur turned back to his tiny form when the brutes fled. He liked the respect he gained in his war form, yet terrible sensations flooded his mind. They turned the whole world gray and meaningless. He felt just like a skeleton.

“I don’t really like being in that form,” he said. “It’s like being submerged in apathy. It’s not a good feeling. Morticous constantly tells me he can create me a body able to resist the energy but I think he’d make me into a skeleton.”

The entrance of the yellow tent loomed in front of them. It was made out of soft material, colored yellow, and had been pulled upwards. Alexander saw many different merchants standing behind tables. They didn’t say nor move around much, yet he could feel confidence. It came from the wares.

“You there!” Arthur called out, his voice carrying much less power in his tiny form. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I ain’t know where, fool!” The merchant said. “I don’t know any Spencer. I’ve got good wares though, buy em’ or get the hell out of here!”

Another merchant had overheard the question, and shouted at them. Alexander jerked his head in the direction. He saw an older man. “Spencer doesn’t work here anymore. From what I’ve heard he’s in the abyss market.”

“Fuck,” Arthur said, dragging out the vowel. “Thanks for telling me.”

He flipped a golden coin towards the merchant. It was snatched with uncanny speed. One second it was in the air, the other it was somewhere else entirely.

Arthur pushed Alexander out of the tent and back on the street. He walked with more ease than he had done before, taking his time with each small step. Alexander felt a sort of gloom energy exude out of him.

“Where’s the Abyss market?” Alexander asked.

“That’s the place merchants go to when they want to sell things prohibited by the tower. It’s also the last place a boy like you should ever go.”

“Isn’t that here?”

“No. This place just has different guards, meant to serve different ends. The tower admins still come here, albeit, much less often then in the main market.”

“Aren’t we on time pressure?”

“Not anymore. Nobody is going down there to buy this item. No use in complaining though, might as well go there.”

They moved through the rough street. The path was made out of cut stone. The architects had gone for small squares, which lined up one after another, but instead it looked more like straight circles of varying sizes, pressed in wherever there was space.

It took five minutes before they stood in front of a rather nondescript tavern. It didn’t look like a building of it’s own, borrowing the color schemes of the buildings beside it, and hiding the door. The only thing which really stood out was the guard which stood beside the door.

The guard didn’t try to portray himself as one. He wore all black, leaned against the wall of the building and smoked some sort of cigar. No sword hung off his waist, or on his back, but his fingers did have metal rings, and Alexander felt himself being scrutinized even though the guard looked in another direction.

“Okay. I’m going into my war form now, don’t talk unless you have to,” Arthur said and morphed into his war form. All of a sudden, the guard jerked his head towards them, intently staring at them.

Arthur pushed Alexander, who felt this was a terrible idea, towards the man and the door. The guard stopped leaning against the wall and stood straight, ready to meet them. Arthur didn’t stop moving forward, and Alexander felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead. He felt their energies clashing. His heart sunk deeper into his chest.

“I haven’t seen you around for a while,” the guard said.

“I have had no reason to come here.”

“Right, I can let you in Arthur, but the kid’s gotta stay out here. I can keep watch on him.”

“You will let him in.”

“I can’t,” the man said and crossed his arms. “He’s going to get killed if he’s let in.”

“I’ll make sure that won’t happen.”

“Either way. I. Can’t.”

“I. Don’t. Give. Two shits about what you can and can’t do. He’s coming with me even if I have to smash this door in.”

The guard sighed. “You’re pissing people off by doing this, Arthur. Strong people. The type even Morticous has a tough time dealing with.”

Arthur scoffed. It sounded more like a boulder had fallen from a mountain. The guard opened the door to the building, and Arthur pushed Alexander in, crouched and pushed himself in.

Immediately, Alexander knew he was in a new area. The street he was in was completely different. It was sleek and made out of some sort of obsidian. The stores, few and sparse between, were high end, and each one carried at least ten guards. The place smelled fresh and clean.

Also, Arthur didn’t change back to his tiny form. Alexander felt his gaze scrutinize the other people around him. It was a tough, unforgiving glare. There were some figures walking through the streets, but whilst everyone had been cloaked before, nobody was here. Each one had a battalion of tough guards following them, and wore splendid jewelry. This was where the kingpins of the underworld came to trade.

Arthur pushed Alexander down the street. They moved at a much faster speed then before. Clearly, Arthur didn’t want to spend any more time here than necessary. And anything that bothered Arthur, would down right terrify Alexander.

Alexander saw that they were garnering glances and looks back. Fortunately, none of them seemed to be looking at Alexander, but rather keeping their eyes on Arthur. The glares were two parts aggression, three parts skepticism, one part fear, and seven parts respect.

Alexander spotted one store which interested him. Written in fine cursive English, it stated stat points. He didn’t want to ask Arthur anything, as he had been told to be quiet, but he wondered if he could purchase stat points here. It was certainly something he’d ask Morticous when he had the chance.

After walking for ten minutes without having any success, Arthur walked into a store and asked one of the merchants. All of the guard’s glared at him, and kept their hands on the handles of their weapons. Despite Arthur’s threatening aura, the merchant scoffed in return, and treated him with no respect.

“Spencer? Why are you looking for that geezer? His wares are trash, but I guess we all have our budgets.”

“I’ll burn this store down.”

Arthur wasn’t kidding.

“Don’t talk-” One of the guards said but he was interrupted by the merchant.

“Arthur is it? Morticous’s general? Well I don’t want to have any bad blood with him so I’ll tell you where Spencer is. Take it as a free favor.”

Arthur glared, waiting for an answer.

“Simply put, you’re in the wrong area. He received a permit from the admins and now he’s operating in the main area.”

“Fuck.”

Arthur didn’t say another word and pulled out Alexander out of the store. The time pressure had just increased exponentially and odds were that somebody had already gotten the item. Either way, he needed to get up there and check.

He got out of the store and found a knight with red armor and a sharp longsword, staring right at him. It was a devil’s knight, a class which bonded with a devil to grow in strength.

“My boss wants to talk to your kid, Arthur.”

“He’s not leaving the tower.”

“He doesn’t have to.”

“You’re saying a devil’s in the tower?”

“Many are, but my boss is twenty meters away.”

“It’s not happening.”

Six red knights walked out from the alleyways. They all hd the same color armor, but their weapons and hats differed, which suggested that they were sworn to different devils. In this case, all of their devils were under one devil, and that particular devil wanted to speak to Alexander.

Arthur’s hand was suddenly on the handle. The aura he emitted intensified ten times, making some of the knights start shaking. Not the one staring them down though. Then, an aura one hundred times mightier slammed into them. Alexander felt it burn his skin.

And then, at once, all of it washed away.

“These two are mine,” Morticous said. “I’d love to see who dares touch them.”