The mayor's estate was alive with noise that night. Laughter, clinking glasses, and the sour reek of wine spilled out into the streets. From the rooftop across the courtyard, Astro crouched low, his cloak fluttering lightly in the night breeze.
Through the tall windows, he watched the banquet hall. The mayor and his officials sat around a long table, feasting as if the city's wealth existed solely for their pleasure. Perfume, alcohol, and the stink of indulgence clouded the air inside.
Astro crouched higher, hidden among the rafters above the chandelier. His purple eyes glimmered faintly, sharp and unblinking.
The chatter dulled as the doors opened. A tall man entered.
The mayor nearly tripped over himself to greet him. "Master Riser! We're honored you could join us tonight."
Riser's thin smile carried no warmth. "You should be honored, Rodric. If not for Master Abel sending me here, I wouldn't waste a second on your little party."
The mayor chuckled nervously. "Then I am grateful that Master Abel keeps me in his thoughts. Our… arrangement benefits us both, does it not?"
Riser's gaze slid sideways, voice dropping low—but not low enough to escape Astro's sharpened hearing.
"It will continue to benefit, so long as the shipments keep coming."
The officials leaned closer. One of them, bald with a snake tattoo curling up his neck, snickered into his cup. "First load from Nareth City arrives Saturday night. Easy haul—just orphans. No one will miss 'em."
A wave of laughter followed.
"Perfect," Riser said flatly. "Once they arrive, we'll break them. Fear first, then obedience. The strong ones… I'll decide their fates myself." His lips twisted into a snarl that might've been a smile.
Astro's fingers tightened against the beam above. His pulse stayed steady, but every word cut deep. Kidnapped children. Nareth City. Saturday.
Not tonight. He couldn't reveal himself yet. Information came first. Strategy came first.
Still, his jaw set hard as Riser raised a cup of wine.
"To Fogserpent's reign."
The hall erupted in cheers.
From the shadows above, Astro's eyes narrowed. Enjoy your toast while you can. Saturday, the hunt begins.
After watching long enough to fix every word in memory, Astro slipped silently from the rafters, landing in the darkened courtyard below. He avoided the banquet and circled the estate until he reached a tall, oaken door with a golden plaque.
Mayor's Office.
A faint shimmer rippled across the frame—magic traps.
Astro crouched, brushing a hand against the base of the door. Glyphs glowed faintly, designed to scream alarms the moment anyone touched the handle. His lips curved slightly.
"Sloppy."
Mist-like mana flowed across his palm. With careful precision, he bent the glyphs, unraveling their threads until the shimmer fizzled out into harmless sparks.
The door opened without a sound.
The office was lavish, but messy. Shelves sagged with records, maps covered the walls, and stacks of parchment nearly buried the desk. The stench of ink mixed with alcohol… and something more sinister.
Poison.
Astro's gaze sharpened.
Moving quickly, he scanned the piles. A crude snake symbol, drawn in black ink, marked several documents. He pulled one free.
"Suspicious activity… unregistered mage sighted… snake mark assigned."
Another.
"Citizen reported missing on Market Street. Snake mark assigned."
Dozens of names, families, addresses—all branded. These weren't simple reports. They were targets.
Astro leaned back slightly, piecing the truth together. The mayor wasn't just ignoring the guild. He was selling his own people to them.
His eyes flicked to the date scrawled across one of the fresher reports.
Today.
Astro froze for only a second. If this was active, then at least one of the marked citizens could still be alive.
No hesitation.
He replaced the reports exactly as he found them, wiping all trace of his presence. Then he slipped to the window, the night wind brushing across his face.
"I'll find them before Fogserpent does," he muttered, his eyes cold and sharp as a hawk.
In the next breath, his figure vanished into the night, rooftops blurring beneath his stride as he sped toward the listed address.