The morning came brisk and sharp, sunlight spearing through the guild's tall windows as Drathan, Kenshin, and Seme stood before Aelira once more. The conversation about ranks was still lingering in their minds, but the trio had another priority now. Mira's problem.
"Slums?" Seme leaned against the desk, arms folded. "We need details—gangs, bosses, layout. We ain't walking in blind."
Aelira exhaled, a flicker of tension across her regal features. "The slums are under the thumb of the Black Fang. A gang that thrives on extortion and smuggling. Their leader is a man named Korran—a brute with muscle, but also connections. He controls through fear. Merchants, families… even children. You move against him, you better move quick and hard."
Kenshin smirked, leaning forward with his usual swagger. "So, crush the fangs and the snake dies, huh? Sounds easy enough."
Drathan shrugged. "Ain't never that simple. But thanks, mama, we got this."
Aelira's eyes narrowed at the remark, but her lips curved in the faintest smirk before she waved them away. "Just don't burn half the city down."
From there, the trio wandered into one of Tierwyn's bustling taverns. The air was thick with roasted meats, foaming ales, and the laughter of merchants who had no clue what shadows stirred just beyond their walls. At their table, Mira's ears twitched as she spoke softly of her siblings, every detail sharpening the trio's resolve.
Kenshin leaned back, tapping his mug. "Alright, so we scout first. Then we hit fast. No drawn-out drama. In and out before the gang even knows what's missing."
Seme grunted. "Good. The less noise, the less trouble later."
Plans solidified, they left the tavern, but unease crept on their heels. Drathan noticed first—the same footsteps behind them at every turn. Kenshin vanished in a flicker of lightning speed, reappearing behind two shadowy figures before either could react. With a swift blow to the back of the head, both slumped unconscious.
By the time they reached the villa, the captives were bound to chairs in the main hall. The hearth burned brightly, casting long shadows on stone walls. Mira stood rigid, tail flicking with unease, while Drathan crouched before the pair. "So," he said lazily, "wanna tell us why you been stalkin'?"
The thugs spat curses until Kenshin cracked one across the jaw, his voice dripping with mockery. "C'mon now. Don't play dumb."
Kaelen and Veyra entered, their wolf ears angled back, their presence filling the room with a predatory edge. Kaelen leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Answer them. Or I'll make sure you don't have a tongue left to lie with." His eyes glowed faintly, wolf instincts on full display.
Veyra stepped closer, towering with her lean strength. She folded her arms and sneered. "You think chains scare us? Try being cast out by your own tribe. Now talk before I break something important."
The gang members paled under their glare, stammering as they admitted they were scouts for Korran's Black Fang, ordered to trail the trio after overhearing they planned to visit the slums.
From the side of the hall, Serenya watched, silver eyes narrowed. Her usual calm poise faltered as she clasped her hands in front of her. Such ruthlessness… yet they move as one. Even the wolfkin, castoffs themselves, step forward to defend their mistress's cause. She bit her lip softly, torn between unease and an unfamiliar admiration.
Lyari and Sylwen, the elven twins, exchanged a glance. Their delicate features tightened, discomfort clear as they shifted closer to each other. Lyari whispered, "This world… it is far more brutal than the courts." Sylwen's hand gripped hers, eyes never leaving Drathan. But he faces it without fear. He commands without lifting a hand. Why do I feel… safer here, in this fire-lit hall, than I ever did back home?
Drathan finally stood, brushing dust from his coat. "Good little rats. Now run the message back to your boss—oh wait, you ain't leaving." His grin turned cold, void energy crackling faintly at his fingertips. "We'll decide what to do with y'all soon."
The villa's air hung heavy after the confession, every servant, every friend realizing the battle ahead wasn't in some distant ruin or forest—it was here, in Tierwyn's underbelly, where shadows wore human faces and preyed on the weak.
Mira had been quiet through most of the questioning, her hands fidgeting against the hem of her cloak. But when one of the captured thugs sneered about "making coin off weak little brats with beast tails," something inside her snapped.
Her tail lashed sharply behind her, and her eyes glowed faintly in the lantern light. "Say another word about them," she hissed, voice low and trembling with anger, "and I'll make sure you never speak again."
The room went still. For a moment, the gang member thought she might actually follow through—her knives were already in her hands, the tips glinting at his throat.
Kaelen rumbled a warning growl, ears flat, backing Mira with a primal presence. Veyra's sharp eyes narrowed, and she added coldly, "Better listen. Wolves bite deeper when they're protecting their pack."
The thug swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his brow. Serenya stepped closer, her voice smooth but cutting, "You mock her family while tied like a hog on a rack. That is not courage—it is foolishness." Even Lyari and Sylwen, normally reserved, looked at each other and then at the thug with quiet disdain, their shared elven bond radiating silent judgment.
Mira's breath hitched as she finally stepped back, letting the knives fall to her sides. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and when Drathan's hand brushed her shoulder, grounding her, she blinked and looked away, ashamed at her outburst.
Drathan gave her a lazy smile. "Don't stress it, Mira. Sometimes people just need a little reality check."
"Damn right," Kenshin added, his grin sharp. "Besides, homie over here ain't built for this life. You can smell the fear on him."
The thug sputtered, trying to hold composure, but the combined pressure of Mira's fury, the wolfkin's growls, and the elves' icy gazes cracked him fully. His words spilled out in a rush—names of lieutenants, stash houses, the routes they used to ferry stolen coin and extortion money. Most importantly, he admitted Mira's siblings were being kept in an old mill in the heart of the slums, guarded day and night.
When they finally dragged the two into the cellar to lock them away, the group gathered in the main room around the fire. Shadows from the flames danced across their faces, the weight of what they'd learned heavy in the air.
Kenshin broke the silence first, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "So we got the map laid out. Old mill's their crib. Question is—do we burn the whole nest, or do we sneak in and pull Mira's people before cracking heads?"
Seme crossed his arms, voice thoughtful. "If we go in loud, the kids could get caught in the crossfire. We play it smart. Strike the head, and the body falls."
Drathan smirked lazily, eyes half-lidded. "Either way, it's the same endgame. Boss gets dropped. The gang scatters. What matters is making sure Mira's siblings walk out untouched."
Mira's voice was soft, but her eyes burned with resolve as she looked around at them. "I don't care what happens to the rest. Just… please. Save them."
Kaelen thumped his chest with a fist. "They'll be safe. On my pack's honor." Veyra nodded fiercely, her tail twitching. "No one lays hands on them while we're there."
Even Serenya inclined her head, her silver eyes glowing faintly. "You have our blades, Mira. Their cruelty ends here."
The room hummed with determination, the strange, stitched-together family uniting behind one purpose. Plans began to form—who would scout, who would strike, how to split the roles between stealth and force. And through it all, Mira sat in silence, her hands clasped tight, hope flickering in her chest for the first time in years.
Mira stood near the wall through most of the interrogation, arms crossed tightly, her tail flicking with nervous tension. Every time one of the gang members mentioned "slum brats" or "protection money," her nails dug deeper into her palms. Her younger brother's face flashed in her mind — hungry eyes, thin frame, forced to smile just so she wouldn't worry. Her little sister's laughter, brittle and fading the last time she saw her.
When Veyra slammed her hand into the table, Mira actually flinched, but she didn't stop watching. No — she needed to hear it all. Needed to know exactly what kind of hell her siblings were trapped in.
The wolf siblings' display rattled the gangsters, but Mira's stare was the one that truly cut them down. Her golden eyes burned with something dangerous — fury that had been caged for far too long. One of the gangsters tried to avoid her gaze, muttering excuses about "just following orders."
Mira snapped. "Orders? You take coin to starve kids and call it orders?" Her voice cracked like a whip, trembling with barely contained rage. "If my brother or sister has so much as a scratch when I see them, I swear on my blood—"
Drathan's voice cut in, calm but firm. "Mira."
Her chest heaved, eyes shimmering with both anger and pain. Drathan gave her a lazy smile that, for once, carried weight instead of mockery. "They gonna pay. You got my word. But don't waste your anger on scraps. Save it for the boss who thinks he owns your family."
Mira exhaled slowly, her tail lowering as she regained control. "Fine. But when we find him, I want the first strike."
The trio exchanged looks. Kenshin cracked a grin. "Bet. We'll gift wrap him for you, sis."
Seme nodded, his tone blunt but supportive. "You get the first hit. We'll make sure you don't need a second."
The interrogation wrapped, with the gang members finally spilling locations — the slum district where their boss operated, the name of his stronghold, the "enforcers" he kept around him, and the routes his lackeys used to move money.
Drathan stretched as the details came together, shadows curling faintly at his fingertips. "So, it's a nest. Boss sittin' on a pile of coin, with meat shields makin' sure he keeps control."
Kenshin leaned back in his chair, tossing a dagger between his hands casually. "Sounds like a raid night to me."
Seme, ever the practical one, tapped the table. "We go in clean. No noise till we're at the boss. If we crush him in public, the whole gang crumbles. No boss, no fear, no leash."
Mira nodded, resolve hardening. "Then it's settled. We end this. No more chains on my family."
The rest of the villa seemed to pulse with energy after the declaration. Kaelen and Veyra stood straighter, ears perked — the idea of a fight against city predators stirred something primal in them. Serenya folded her arms with quiet approval, though her eyes flicked toward Drathan, measuring him once again. Lyari and Sylwen whispered softly to one another in Elvish, their eyes darting between Mira and Drathan with a mixture of awe and worry.
Drathan rose at last, his smirk lazy but sharp. "Alright then. We got the info. Tomorrow night, we clean house."
The plan was made. The villa would sleep with tension in the air, every servant and fighter alike knowing that by this time tomorrow, Tierwyn's slums might be changed forever.