The swarming crowd was an understatement to describe the doors of the mercenary guild. The lines spanned to the unseen ends of the room before swirling to the roads outside, the five counters too busy to spare an additional glance at a dog and one undead. Thankfully, I could avoid the long waits on a new dawn after dying in the crowd for over two months as I had become a mercenary worthy of my rank. I accepted jobs in a premium lounge on the first floor these days, and if they offered free bread as customer service, I would have brought my bed to this dingy abode.

A-ranked mercenaries were uncommon in the kingdom and were too few for the missions that needed their aid. So, there was always one task or the other, whether we wanted it or not. Most A-ranked mercenaries were occupied with missions at all times, or some just casually spent their money drinking ale.

I climbed the stairs to the first floor after placing Yule on my head. It had become its natural habitat whenever we entered the guild. Our fame ran past the counters of the guild to the administrative people behind, so we were able to rise the ranks quickly.

“Grr grr,” the hound stomped its feet on my head, and I nodded in approval.

“Mortals are annoying, indeed,” I replied. I understood most of what this demon hound growled by now. Nothing exemplary about it because I was a clever undead.

When we reached the end of the stairs, a man draped in the guild’s black tunic stopped us. His face held a frown, and last night’s slop had refused to come off his clothes entirely despite his efforts. The single star on his chest failed to conceal it, his incessant efforts gone in vain. An attendant of the guild master, perhaps, but I didn’t bother asking.

“Your guild card,” he said, crossing his arms.

I handed it to him and glanced at the dignitaries seated around the table overlooking the floor below. They indulged in idle chatter, and I recognized both as S-ranked mercenaries who took orders from the king himself. The royal insignia of a phoenix on their crest signified their status, something I didn’t crave like other mercenaries.

“Dog-human pair…” the guild staff glanced between Yule and me. “Oh! You are the famous A-rank adventurer! Rudolf and Doggy!”

Yule growled and almost pounced on the boy, but I held him back with a chuckle. “Just a mercenary, young boy. I want to report this quest to the guild masters.”

There was no difference between mercenaries and adventurers for me. Still, after climbing the hierarchy, I did realize that people with enough money who took jobs for fun referred to themselves as adventurers. Stupid mortals and their antics, as usual.

“My apologies,” he smiled, abased, and led us to the attending room. Portraits of famous mercenaries were plastered along the corridor, their most significant achievement jotted down underneath the picture. There was even a mercenary who managed to slay a two-horned bear, a failed demonic transmute. We turned at the end of the corridor, and the last room awaited us.

“The guild master should be awaiting you inside. I can't help you any further, so please go ahead,” the staff said and walked away after a slight bow of acknowledgment.

"Stay guard, Yule. I'll talk to the guild master and get my payment."

"Grr," it settled beside the door, sprawling on its stomach for a quick nap.

I knocked at the door a couple of times before pushing it open. An abandoned table adorned with books entered my sight first, followed by a middle-aged man near the bookshelf. He was browsing the collection as if looking at the shelf for the first time. Two men beside the door had donned steel armor, a novelty in the mercenary guild. The mana lamps cast incandescent light around the room, windows tightly shut for any other source of illumination. The wooden floor creaked beneath my legs as I walked vigilantly, keeping my eyes on the swords of the armored men.

Undead didn’t like pain either if you are wondering.

“Don’t overthink,” the man rubbed his stubble and sat against the table. His cushioned chair grated against the floor as he leaned back and studied my features. A worn-out flooring separated us, along with some sprawled papers that undoubtedly didn’t belong to the man before me. His robe was strapped perfectly, stubble trimmed with precision, and, if I measured, his hair would be the same length. He was a perfectionist in every sphere, so the disarrayed room didn’t suit his demeanor.

“Who are you?” I asked, closing the door behind me. If I wanted to kill anyone here, I had to make it as discreet as possible.

“You really don’t know?” he asked, raising his brows. I could not gauge his expression, which made me feel like he controlled the situation—truly a frightful mortal.

“No,” I replied half-heartedly.

“Then you better burn this face in your memory,” he said, interlacing his fingers and placing them on the table before me. “I am Terian Covict, Earl of the Kingdom of Arlikia. And the person you’ll end up helping whether you like it or not.”

“And why would I do that?” I smiled, a grueling one at that.

He got up from his seat and pulled a book on the shelf. The shelf separated, opening into a hollow tunnel, and I saw a haggard man crawling out with the help of a guard. His balding pate was marred with a gruesome scar, and his hands were devoid of fingers.

My smile grew broader when I saw fear in the greying eyes of the man. He shouted hysterically, pushing aside the guard holding him, and tried to run into the darkness, but his legs hadn’t stopped shivering. He pissed himself in fright, and I saw a flicker of disgust on Terian’s face.

“Marquis, it is,” I said, walking closer to him.

“This is my gift to you,” Terian said, moving away from Marquis Valorat. “In return, I need you to recover something from the crown prince.”

“This isn’t enough,” I laughed. “This piece of crap isn't worth a shin in my eyes. I expected more from you, Terian.”

Swords were drawn one after the other, one guard even materializing mana just before me. Terian raised his hand, and everyone retreated a step. “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice. Bring out your [Devil eye].”

I squinted my eyes. “[Abyss],” I said with a sigh. He was a Dark Attribute mage. I didn’t need my third eye to gauge his petty idea. The other end of the Abyss was undeniably beside Letitia.

I wasn't in control for the first time in over a thousand millennia. The feeling of uncertainty boiled my blood, and my frenzied look cracked his inexpressive face.

Then again, if it weren't for [Abyss], my lady would have protected herself from visible threats without my aid. She was a Progressive mage, and handling some puny assassins was as easy as eating bread for her.

“One strand of her hair will become the doom of this world,” I laughed in excitement. “Don’t even think about hurting her.”

“Look,” he paused for a while. The fear stayed farthest away from his face. “Do you think I care about the world? About my life? I just want something from the prince. Consider it a favor in return for bringing this profiteer to your doorstep. We don’t have to involve anyone else.”

“I will start counting my fingers,” I said, my eyes cold. “Close that [Abyss] before I finish.”

“I will count to three,” he replied leisurely, checking his neatly trimmed nails. “Give me a blood promise before I finish.”

“One,” Terian’s voice echoed in the room before I could start. The guard had sagged Brackett’s mouth long ago for him to make any noise. “Two.”

“Okay,” I agreed begrudgingly.

Threatening undead to do your bidding was a first. Nobody had dared to do it before because I had nothing to lose. The realization had me scrunching my brows because I knew transmigration magic would stay farthest away from me for the next few millennia. Until I forgot my lady and became benign again. The thought didn't feel feasible anymore, and I felt some congestion in my chest.

I had to eat more bread.

I bit my thumb and walked toward him. Undead never lied, so there was no way in a million years that I was going back on my words.

Terian did the same, and we strapped our thumbs against each other.

"By the mana's will, the promise will hold until you have retrieved my item from the crown prince."

He cast [Quagmire], forging a blood promise, and I drew my hand back as soon the black light dissolved around our hands.

"A pact with a devil will always come back to bite you," I grinned and walked toward the door. "Find me again when you want me to hold my end of the deal."

I materialized mana behind me and sent frozen shards at the Marquis. Blood splashed in all directions, the gagged mouth stopping most of his shrieks.

"What about this?" I stopped at the door and turned around, flailing the red inscription on the guild card.

Terian walked toward me and infused some mana into the card. The inscription disappeared as the Earl handed me a pouch of coins.

"Two thousand shins," he said. "Four times your reward. Helping me will bring you more riches than you could ever imagine. I heard your lady was trying to buy a place in the central square. If-"

"You can talk to her about it," I stuffed the pouch into my pocket. "I don't take decisions on behalf of my lady. Also, what did the Marquis tell you?"

He waved his hand at the guards, and they disappeared into the secret passage. The mana lamps cast faint light inside the passageway, but it wasn't enough for me to gauge the structure. Rocks adorned the exit, cracked in most places. Old it was, but sturdy enough.

"You are a crazy demon in the guise of a human," he shrugged, an action unfitting for his demeanor. His eyes stayed on my face, waiting for my reaction. When he got none, he continued, "I don't doubt that you are crazy given how you tortured the Marquis, but calling you a demon seems far-fetched. You are more civilized and humble than most Cognoscente mages."

I stepped out of the room. Yule was still sleeping soundly, least worried about his undead master. It didn't need to, but every undead appreciated some loyalty.

With a sigh, I picked him up, forced him awake, and placed him on my head. "You have become lazy, Yule. I'll train you should I need your help in the future. There are too many machinations against us in this world. Anomalies aren't welcomed, after all."

"Gwar grr," it stomped my head, reassuring me that it got my back. "Gwar gwar grr!"

"I don't know. Glaz will sleep for at least a year. That is for one winter, summer, and spring. I can't count on that dragon. He's… a menace of its kind."

We headed to the Academy soon after. The graduation ceremony was supposed to be held tomorrow, so the students were enjoying a day off. I wanted to make sure no mishap would happen tomorrow.

When everything is working against you, one can never be over-prepared.

Garlan was out of the station for too long, so the booth appeared empty. No news meant he was dead or drowning himself in ale and women. The archway was decorated with yellow cloth ribbons, some commoner women still busy placing flowers along the knotted cloth. It appeared pleasing to the eyes, but it was a wasteful chore.

"Hey," one of the women walked toward me. "I had asked my brother to get more flowers, but I think he forgot and joined his mischievous lads for fun. Do you think you could help us? We have enough roses, but we need jasmines. The market next street should have plenty."

Yule jumped down from my head and sniffed the woman. She playfully patted its head and looked up.

"Is this your dog?" She scratched it under the ear, and the demon snarled at her.

"It has a habit of biting off people's fingers, so it's better to refrain from touching it."

She stilled and stood up, taking a step back. "Can't lose my fingers yet. Have to bake bread."

I chuckled, and her gaze paused at my face. "I'll get you some flowers. In return, give me some bread after you finish baking."

She was too busy staring at my face. "Excuse me?" I called again, pulling her attention.

"Ah! Sorry," she looked down with embarrassment. Her ears were slightly red. "You said something about your lady… yes... right! I'm interested!"

When I turned around, my lady was standing at the gates with her two friends. All of them had their hands crossed, gazes cold, except Beth, who had a mischievous glint in her eyes. The chilly wind undid my lady's hastily tied-up bun, and her hair trickled down her cheeks.

"Good luck, Ruddy," Beth said, holding back her laughter and dragging Cathy toward the market.

My lady sighed and inched closer to me. I wrapped my cloak around her and ruffled her hair.

"Why is your tummy so insatiable, my undead?" The corners of her mouth twitched, but she maintained an amicable smile. "If you want, I can learn to bake. You don't have to ask other women to bake for you!"

I laughed and pinched her nose. "I was thinking about you, my lady. If she baked bread that could impress this undead, I would bring her to you. After all, our confectionery store does need a good baker."

She raised her eyes in suspicion. "Get some brawny men, instead! I don't want vixens having second thoughts about you."

"Commoner men don’t bake, Letitia, and nobles avoid the kitchen like mycats," I held her fluttering hair and moved behind her. "I'm carrying your hair pins in my pockets, your napkins in my suit, your bracelet in my arms, your well-being in my head. Is there any room for others?" I fastened her hair with her favorite hairpin and pulled her toward the marketplace.

Her ears turned red perceptibly, and I stifled a laugh. That earned me a playful punch, but she draped her head with the hood and held my hand with a smile. "Where are we going?"

"To buy flowers. That commoner needs it."

Of course, a pout was her reply.