The town of Quinteburgh had survived the night but Maven’s Creek did not. Only those who were within the walls of Quinteburgh were shouting their gratitude to the brave defenders. The various villages scattered about Maven’s Creek were in a completely different state. None were spared from the horde. All in all, this whole conundrum was a huge loss to the eyes of Edith Rosemary.

A document detailing the circumstances of a certain individual’s death fell into her sight. There was a rough sketch of the individual at the top left corner of the document with their name written at the bottom. Her gaze lingered on this particular document before moving on to another.

Rosemary sighed. The sight of this death was still vivid in her mind, the sight of Siv carrying the body of her twin brother, Wrev, with wavering steps. Rosemary didn’t know the two well but they were Lord Hegan’s most trusted personal guards. He trusted them enough to even assign them to his son’s protection detail. And now, one of them was dead.

Another death that remained in her mind was Velrin Corvas’. Coincidentally, also a twin. According to the reports, one of her companions betrayed her by deserting the battle and left to fend for her own. The moment Rosemary read the report, she immediately issued a bounty for the traitor’s head. The most surprising detail was that the traitor was an acquaintance of Lyra. More precisely, her former lover. Lyra didn’t hesitate and made a promise to Rosemary that she would personally deliver his head. As the Guild Master, she couldn’t show preferential treatment without a valid cause, so she just wished for Lyra’s success in her head.

Aside from those losses, many of the ones that participated in the defence had suffered great deals of injuries, injuries that couldn’t be treated with simple measures. 

As she read through the grim reports in a makeshift tent just outside the west gate, one of her adjutants came bringing more news to her.

“What is it?” Rosemary asked without lifting her head from the report. The crease in her brow deepened the more she read.

“The situation within the town is orderly, for the most part,” the adjutant answered, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple.

“For the most part?” Rosemary questioned.

Shakingly, he answered, “t-the Paladins did as they said, they kept the townsfolk calm and prevented anyone from taking advantage of the predicament. They even managed to keep most of the indicted nobles from escaping.”

“Most?”

“Lord Howard Clayton and Lord Branon Rowin have escaped, along with some of their men.”

“Throw away the lord, boy. They’re no longer highborn,” she said, in which her adjutant nodded. “And pray tell, how did they escape?”

“Lord— I mean, Howard Clayton has a level fifty-six mage in his employment. The mage created an illusion that fooled the Paladins into thinking they were still holed up in their abode.”

“When did they notice it was an illusion?”

“The Paladins didn’t. An Augur by the name of Cynric Crimson-steel caught them in the act.”

“Cynric?” Rosemary was surprised. He was the Augur that Erynthea saved. To Rosemary, he gave off the impression of someone who would do their best but often failing pitifully. “How did that happen?”

“The Augur said he happened to see a group of people wearing cloaks lurking about, always shying away from the sights of the Paladin. He tried to tell the Paladins but they didn’t listen. So, he ended up trying to stop the suspicious individuals himself.”

Since Howard and Branon escaped, Rosemary didn’t think it ended well for Cynric. With that thought, she asked, “how’s the Augur? Is he wounded badly?”

“He’s wounded but not badly. On the contrary, he did quite a number on Clayton and Rowin. He took out six of their men. These men were knights, granted their titles by Howard Clayton himself.”

The amazement grew in Rosemary’s heart. If Cynric was capable of such a feat, she wondered how in god’s name was he captured by the slavers.

“Since this is a statement from the Augur himself, I can’t vouch for its integrity. But according to him, if it wasn’t for the mage casting an illusion spell on him, he was confident he would be able to stop them from escaping.”

“What are the collateral damages?” Rosemary got straight to the point she was most worried about.

“Minimal, Guild Master. A few street lanterns were destroyed and some damages on the road but that’s the extent of the damages. No one was hurt.”

Rosemary heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods…”

“What should we do about this, Guild Master?”

“Leave it for now. The restoration of the town’s order takes precedence. We don't have any more men or resources to spare. Moreover, Howard and Branon’s face is quite well-known around here. They won’t be able to run far.”

“I see… as you wish, Guild Master.”

“Anyways, what’s the next item?”

“Um… let’s see… ah. The head priest requested an audience with you, Guild Master.”

Rubbing her temple, she frowned. “Regarding?”

“The hero of this conundrum. He seems to be hinting that he wishes to reward the one who made the most significant contribution in the battle. As to why, I am not sure, Guild Master.”

Rosemary sighed but of exasperation this time. “Have Lord Joshua and Lady Iris deal with this.” In her eyes, everyone on the battlefield was deserving of a reward but no way she could give that as a response.

The adjutant made a strange sound. “H-heh!?”

“Is there a problem?”

“I-is that wise, Guild Master?”

“I have my hands full dealing with the allocation of the monster cores and notification of the deceased’s next of kin. Most importantly, I have to deal with the profit splitting of the Razor Grizzly’s core.”

“Lord Hegan, him I understand. But Lady Iris? Doesn’t she have some sort of prejudice towards the Ruvans?”

“If we’re talking about the hero of this whole conundrum here, it would be undoubtedly Lady Erynthea. Lady Iris, whether she admits or not, had taken a great liking and interest in Lady Erynthea. She would do this for Lady Erynthea. Now, is there anything else?”

“N-no,” the adjutant responded timidly.

“Good,” Rosemary said. She pointed to a pile of papers. “Now, give this stack to the ones in the treasury department.”

The adjutant stared wide-eyed at a towering stack of documents. “B-but there aren’t even half a dozen people in the treasury.”

“I have done all the complicated arithmetic stuff. They are simply responsible for following up the mundane processes. Or would you or any of them prefer to exchange for my position?”

With that, the adjutant carried the stack away without any further questions.

Rosemary watched him disappear behind the gate before resuming the gruelling process of skimming through grim reports.

****

Deep into the night, amidst the sea of trees that could distort one’s sense of direction, a radiant glow loomed in the centre. The source of the glow was a two-storey mansion, consumed by a huge blaze. This mansion once belonged to a noble but after the house head drowned himself in debt, the mansion was sold to the creditors. One thing leading to another, the mansion was now owned by a certain underworld organization. The mansion was currently, and mainly, used for their illegal slave-trading business. Or at least that was the mansion’s purpose a few minutes ago. It was now nothing more than a beacon of light for every sight in the distance. 

Corpses were strewn about around and within the mansion. At present, only three breathing souls remained amidst the devastation, in which two were the perpetrators of the fire. The two belonged to the prestigious race known as the Faerie-kin. One was an Elf and the other was a Dryad. The third individual was a mere human, a man with a scarred face nearing his fifties.

“You will regret this,” the scarred man, forced on his knees, spouted even though there was a blade pressing against his neck. “Do you know who we are?”

An Elf had long and sharp ears. Their hearing was also excellent. However, the man’s threat fell deaf on the ears of the Elf towering over him. The Elf was only indifferently staring at the man without a hint of fear.

“Hundreds of slaves, freed. That’s thousands of gold wasted. Do you know what you have done!?” the man screamed.

The Elf responded by drawing a tinge of blood from the man’s neck.

The man flinched with a pathetic yelp but the Elf held him in place by his shoulder. 

“Nivia,” the Dryad called out. “Don’t kill him yet.”

“I know, Lilian,” Nivia replied solemnly but her blade did not loosen from the man’s neck.

“You will regret this,” the man repeated while sobbing. “Not only have you freed the slaves but you also destroyed the opium farms in Ruby Valley. No matter where you run now, you are dead.”

“We have nothing to do with the opium farms.”

“It’s useless to deny it now. Maybe it wasn’t you but I’m told it was also a woman. So she must be with you.”

Nivia rolled her eyes in response to the man’s “flawless” logic. “I do not care whether you believe my words. All I care is that you answer my question truthfully.” 

The man snorted, attempting to express his non-existent dominance. “I don’t know what kind of method you have. I ain’t talking. Do you have any idea who you have messed with?”

“Not a single clue,” Nivia said but it came out more of a mumble.

“Marduk,” the man said, a grin filled with confidence forming on his face. “You and your friend are dead if Marduk found out what happened here.”

“Who or what is Marduk?”

The man laughed, although he quickly stopped when he realized it only made his neck grazed against the Elf’s edge. “He’s the king of the underworld. Every faction in the underworld answers to him. Do you think you were the first ones who tried to play heroes? In the end, every one of them was buried by Marduk. You fucked up badly, stupid Faes.”

“It’s just Fae. There’s no plural even if it’s plural,” Nivia retorted dryly.

Confusion smeared the man’s expression.

“And also, you are the stupid one considering you have just told us what we want to know from you.”

“Wh—?” The realization then crossed the man’s mind. “Y-you… you bitch!”

The man’s profanity lasted only for a second before Nivia slit his neck with a cold gaze. She stepped out of the way to let the man fall to the dirt face first.

“You have changed, Nivia,” Lilian, the Dryad, remarked.

“I suppose I have,” Nivia nodded along. It had been a hell of a journey. 

After receiving the information regarding the kidnapping of her own kin from Iris, she had embarked on a quest of saving her kind. In her journey, she met other Fae; Elves, Dryads, Fox-kin, who shared her objectives. Together, they tracked down the slavers and took down many other slavery chains. After saving her kin, Nivia discovered a deeper vein of the slavery chain. While most of her companions decided to retreat to this extent, Nivia and Lilian were the only two who pursued the trail, bringing them to their current situation. Along her journey, she had learned much and the people she had slain were more than she ever had in her entire life. It was slowly taking a toll on her mind but her constant level increment helped keep her sane, to some degree. Most of all, it was the waiting arms of Erin that kept her mind firm through all these ordeals. She wanted to quickly reunite with Erin but she put her own kin before everything else. This was the kind of person she was.

“Marduk... Have you heard of this name?” Nivia asked.

Lilian shook her head. “Never,” she answered. “But I might have and I just don’t remember.”

“You don’t remember?” Nivia narrowed her eyes. “That’s some poor excuse.”

“Nivia, I’m twice your age. When you get to my age, you’ll understand.”

“We finally have a name but it leads to nowhere.”

“We do have another clue.” Lilian pointed out. “An opium farm in Ruby Valley.”

Nivia raised an eyebrow. “I’m not aware of any place known as Ruby Valley in Yorun.”

“That’s because Ruby Valley is the name used by the unlearned ones. Officially, it is known as Sephrodia Valley. It is three days east of Maven’s Creek.”

“The slaver said something about the opium farm being destroyed by a woman. Another person who seeks to right the unjust?”

“I haven’t heard another one of our brethren was on a similar quest. In all likelihood, the woman might not be a Fae.”

Nivia fell silent. Her gaze spelt out her inner thoughts to Lilian.

The Dryad tittered. “I know what you’re thinking, Nivia. You wish to seek an alliance with this woman, don’t you?”

“Our enemies aren’t strong but that’s because we are inherently stronger than humans in magic. If that woman alone could take a whole of their operation down, it speaks volumes of her abilities. I have no doubt our enemies will only be stronger from now on. Her strength would be a good addition to our efforts.”

“If you’re that worried about our strength, shouldn’t you have asked your friend? What was her name again? Ellie? Ellia, or something?”

“Erynthea, with a "y". And no, I couldn’t ask her. She had her own problems to solve.”

“Is that truly why you didn’t ask for her help?”

Nivia didn’t answer because Lilian hit the mark. She had different reasons for not asking Erin’s assistance. Truthfully, she had a side that she would never want Erin to know. Erin was strong but she was also kind. Everyone loved her. Such a beautiful soul in Nivia’s eyes. She feared for Erin’s reaction should she discover her other side.

While thinking that, Nivia unconsciously licked the blood of the fallen slaver off of her blade.

“You really should stop doing that,” Lilian said, seemingly unfazed by Nivia’s action.

Nivia remained silent and sheathed her blade as nothing had happened.