As Edmund collected the grisly ears, G6's focus snapped back to the forest's deeper problem: the unsettling void.
Hmm… Complete mana dampening? Edmund said nature itself produces mana. It's the foundation. Based on his reaction, this isn't just unusual. It's supposed to be impossible.
Her analytical mind churned in frustration. She couldn't rest with missing data. The why and how were a relentless itch.
Fuck this. Fuck that. Ever since I woke up here, it's been one mystery after another. A problem to solve, a secret to unfold. I've got enough on my plate.
She tried to shrug it off, to file it away as the kingdom's problem. But the silence—the profound, unnatural lack of sensation where her instincts screamed there should be energy—was a constant, nagging pull.
A quiet sigh of irritation. She leaned against the large tree, arms crossed, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on her bicep. Her gaze, sharp and calculating, scanned the deadened grove before landing on Edmund, still diligently working.
This will take a while.
"Scouting ahead. Back before you finish." She pushed off from the tree.
Edmund paused, looked up. Immediate concern. "Alright… but please, do not engage. Wait for me."
G6 held his gaze. Unreadable. Then turned, walked away. Her form was swallowed by the eerie, silent gloom.
Alone, G6 moved deeper into the oppressive silence. She pulled off her sunglasses, hooked them on her collar. Eyes adjusted to dappled, lifeless light. Colors vivid—greens, browns, vibrant flowers. A perfect, beautiful lie.
Looks like a typical forest. Lush, green. No one would guess it's empty.
Her habit took over. She knelt, brushed fingers through the soil. Rich, damp. Smelled of earth, decay. Nothing unusual. No chemicals, no rot. Soil is healthy, but the world's heartbeat is gone.
Source is deeper.
Staying on ground would get her nowhere.
"Reaper's Ascent." Her feet lifted. She began to glide between towering trees, a phantom weaving through skeletal branches.
<
Eyes glowed faint, oblong white. The world sharpened into hyper-focused detail—grain on bark, veins on a leaf, minute insect movements. She flew with impossible grace, a silent shadow darting through the canopy, body tilting instinctively to avoid every obstacle.
Deeper into the dead zone. Silence is heavier, more unnatural.
Then, she saw it.
A jagged maw of rock and earth yawned open in a hillside. Not a gentle slope. Not an eroded opening. A violent rupture.
Is that a cave? Structure's wrong. Doesn't belong.
She pivoted, descended. Landed silently a dozen paces from its entrance.
Darkness within was absolute. A solid wall of black even her enhanced perception struggled to penetrate. She pushed her skill. Glow in her eyes intensified. The gloom seemed to swallow the light. A faint throb began behind her temples—a warning. The mana-restraint earring, combined with this dead forest, was a leash. Forcing vision further without external energy would be draining. Reckless. The fatigue-soothing ring was back at Utility.
<
Glow faded. World returned to normal, frustrating resolution.
"Must be deep in the woods now." A tactical assessment. She glanced back, mentally tracing her path. "Maybe wandered too far."
Attention pulled back to the anomaly. She approached cautiously. Boots made no sound. Ran a hand over the rock face at the entrance. Edges sharp. Surfaces raw.
"Makes no sense." A whisper absorbed by dense air. She'd seen hundreds of caves. This wasn't weathered by time or elements. Lacked nature's slow, patient touch.
A low, guttural growl rumbled from the darkness behind her. Not from the cave. From the woods.
She turned slowly.
It emerged from the shadows between the trees. Not a goblin. A Hobgoblin. Twice the size of a man, muscles coiled like cable under thick, grey-green hide. It held a massive, crude axe in one fist. Its small, red eyes fixed on her with predatory intelligence.
G6's lips curved into a slow, sharp smile. Finally. Something worth the trip.
It roared. A ground-shaking bellow that echoed through the dead forest. It hefted the axe, muscles coiling.
G6 remained still. A smirk. Let's see what you've got.
It moved. Fast. Not a lumber; a lunge. Closed the distance in two thunderous strides. Axe came down in a whistling arc meant to crush her into dirt.
A normal person would have died. G6 simply wasn't there.
"Reaper's Ascent." She shot straight up. Wind from the axe ruffled her clothes. Landed lightly on the flat of the axe head as it slammed into earth. Used it as a springboard to launch at its face. Blades aimed for its eyes.
The Hobgoblin's free hand snapped up. Faster than anticipated. It backhanded her through the air like a fly.
SHIT.
Impact brutal. She crashed through a low-hanging branch. Wood snapped against her back. Landed hard. Air forced from lungs in a painful gasp. Pain flared across her ribs. Fuck. That's going to bruise.
She rolled to her feet. Smirk gone. Replaced by a cold, focused glare. Okay. Not just big. Fast and smart too. Problem.
Couldn't just overpower it. In a dead zone, with the restraint earring on, her energy wasn't infinite. Couldn't afford to trade blows. Every movement, every spell had to count.
It charged again. This time, she didn't wait. Pushed wind magic into her legs not to fly, but to enhance speed. Blurred to the side. Axe missed by inches. Carved a deep furrow in soil.
Saw an opening—inside of its thigh, a major artery. Dashed in. One blade poised to strike.
A guttural chant rumbled from its throat. Air around its leg shimmered. Her blade scraped against what felt like solid rock instead of flesh. A defensive earth-shield.
It can use magic too?! No one told me about this!
She disengaged instantly. Leaped back as its fist hammered down where she'd been standing.
Breathing heavier now. Not from exhaustion. From frustration. This thing was a tank. Strong. Surprisingly fast. Could cast defensive magic. Her usual tactics—overwhelm with speed and precision—were being neutralized.
Needed an advantage. Needed to get that axe out of its hands.
It swung again. A wide, horizontal sweep meant to cut her in half. An idea, reckless and dangerous, flashed.
Instead of dodging, she dropped onto her back. Let the axe whistle over her. As the follow-through pulled it off-balance for a split second, she kicked off the ground. Used a tiny burst of Reaper's Ascent to propel herself forward, between its legs.
Slash. Both blades deep into the backs of its ankles as she passed through.
The monster roared in agony. Stumbled forward. Not a killing blow, but a good one. Slowed. Angry.
She finally got her grin back. Wiped a speck of its dark blood from her cheek. Fight's finally getting interesting.
The Hobgoblin, enraged, forced balance. Endured searing pain in tendons. Put distance between them. Hefted axe high for another devastating overhead swing. Red eyes promising to separate her head from shoulders.
This fucking monster is really a monster, huh? Time to stop playing.
<
A wide, predatory grin split her face. Stark contrast to the cold fury in her eyes. No longer a fight. An execution.
She raised her twin blades. Not with speed. With an eerie, perfect stillness. Focused every ounce of will. Channeled all the wind affinity she could muster in the dead zone into her legs and arms. Air around her blades hummed. Distorted light with deadly resonance.
Thrust wind down. Not to ascend. To launch. Ground beneath her feet cratered.
In the space of a single, skipped heartbeat, the world froze. No flash. No roar. Only a silent, impossible shift.
One moment, G6 was there. The next, behind the Hobgoblin. Blades held low. Dripping thick, dark blood.
The massive axe, still gripped in a fist the size of a boulder, fell to the forest floor with a heavy, dull thud. A fraction later, the Hobgoblin's entire arm followed. Severed cleanly at the shoulder. The stump was a pale, clean cross-section of muscle and bone for a moment before being obliterated by a violent, pulsing geyser of blood. Enough force to paint nearby trees crimson.
The Hobgoblin didn't scream. Only a wet, gurgling groan of pure, utter shock. All immense strength draining away with lifeblood. Legs buckled. Crashed to its knees. Force shook the earth. Massive frame now pathetic, broken.
G6 turned slowly. Movements languid, unhurried. Cold, analytical eyes locked onto the exposed back of its neck. A wide, vulnerable target.
"It's really frustrating to lose." A soft, conversational monotone. More terrifying than any shout. "But that's how life is."
She didn't even move. She simply flickered.
Silent Reaper's Blade.
No sound. No whistle of a blade. No final roar. The Hobgoblin's head simply… left its shoulders. Tumbled through the air in a macabre arc. Landed with a soft, final thump on the moss. Eyes wide with frozen surprise.
For a single, suspended heartbeat, the headless body remained kneeling—a grotesque monument. Then, the neck's raw wound erupted. Not a spray, but a torrent. A fountain of hot, coppery life arced violently into the air before cascading down in a thick, warm deluge. It drummed against leaves, pooled in the soil, and soaked the earth.
G6 stood at the center of the crimson rain. Unflinching. A slow, deep satisfaction bled through her. The warm blood on her skin was not a stain—it was a baptism. The scene was not horrifying; it was a masterpiece. A familiar and perfect logic in a strange, senseless world. This was her purpose. This was her art.
❈.❈.❈
Edmund finished slicing the last ear, his mind already on disposal. He dragged the headless bodies into a pile. They had to be burned—to prevent corruption and to avoid birthing something far worse. "I wonder what is taking Lady Reise so long," he mused aloud, his voice too loud in the oppressive silence. He sighed, stooping to gather the severed heads like macabre melons. "How could she do this as if she'd done it a thousand times before?" he muttered to their vacant faces. It was absurdly morbid—a royal butler conversing with a pile of decapitated heads. His intelligence reported a reclusive noblewoman, homebound until her arrival at the palace. Nothing added up.
To speed the cleanup, he activated his speed skill, becoming a blur of motion. So engrossed was he in the labor and his swirling thoughts about his bizarre mistress that he almost missed the first sign.
The ground trembled.
A deep, thunderous roar—not of an animal, but of a powerful, enraged beast—echoed through the forest. It shook leaves from branches and sent birds screeching into the sky. Distant, yet it rolled through the trees with palpable menace, forceful enough to be heard clearly in Oak Village.
Edmund froze. The heads in his arms tumbled to the forest floor with soft, wet thuds. All blood drained from his face.
Lady Reise!
The thought was a lightning strike of pure, undiluted fear. Decades of field experience screamed—that was no ordinary monster. Something ancient. Powerful.
He abandoned the cleanup without a second thought. Mana flared as he pushed his speed skill to its absolute limit, no longer conserving energy. He became a streak of motion, dodging trees and leaping over roots, a cold knot of worry tightening in his chest.
He didn't know exactly where she was, only the direction she'd gone. He launched himself into the trees, using high branches to scout, the world blurring past him. Then he saw it.
In a clearing not far ahead, a monstrous Hobgoblin—twice the size of any he'd ever seen—was charging, its massive axe raised high to crush a lone, rosegold-haired figure.
No!
He pushed harder, his heart hammering against his ribs. He needed to reach her, to intervene—
But he was too far.
He watched, helpless, as the scene unfolded with brutal, horrifying speed. One moment the creature was whole; the next, its arm and axe tumbled through the air, severed by a movement too fast for even his eyes to fully track. A violent geyser of blood erupted from the stump.
And then he saw her.
He landed on a branch just in time to witness the final act. G6 stood before the kneeling, broken beast. She spoke words he couldn't hear, her tone chillingly calm. Then, in a motion that was less a strike and more an inevitability, the Hobgoblin's head left its shoulders.
The sight that followed would be seared into his memory forever.
The fountain of blood arcing into the air. The headless body swaying before collapsing. And her—standing perfectly still in the middle of the crimson rain. She didn't flinch. Didn't wipe the blood splattered across her cheek. She simply… observed. It was the serene, detached gaze of an artist stepping back to admire a finished painting. A masterpiece of absolute carnage.
Edmund felt his blood run cold. It was a sensation like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He took a sharp, involuntary gulp of air.
Edmund stared, transfixed. This was not the work of a noblewoman, nor even a murderer. This was the cold, calculated efficiency of a natural disaster given human form. The sheer lack of emotion, the utter embrace of the violence—it was more terrifying than the monster had ever been.
He had pledged his loyalty to a woman he thought was sharp, perhaps misunderstood. Now he understood. He had sworn himself to a force of nature.
A Reaper, in truth.
And with that revelation, the entire world suddenly felt more dangerous, and infinitely more fragile.
Edmund gathered courage. Forced legs to carry him toward the figure standing in the center of slaughter. This was not the cold, rational noblewoman he served. This was something else entirely. A primal force wearing her skin.
He landed softly at the edge of the ravaged clearing.
"Lady Reise." His voice was steady. Not a yell. Not a whisper. A deliberate, calm address.
G6 looked up at him. Her usual glare, but framed by spatters of dark blood. Grey eyes, usually like chips of ice, now seemed to glow with a faint, unsettling light against crimson stains. The sight made hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"I accidentally stumbled into their territory." Flat. As if explaining a minor inconvenience.
Edmund's gaze shifted past her, toward the dark maw. But before he could form a question, the earth groaned. The jagged entrance of the cave began to shudder, collapse in on itself. Rocks and soil sliding down as if the structure had been a temporary illusion losing power. Within moments, gone. Only a raw scar on the hillside.
What just happened? G6's thoughts a silent echo.
"It was a dungeon." Edmund stepped closer to her side. Eyes fixed on freshly-turned earth.
"Not a cave?"
"No. A true dungeon is a pocket of unstable, concentrated mana given form. Usually ancient, deep. This one… was new. And it seems the sole beings sheltering within it, sustaining its existence, were the goblins." A vague gesture at the carnage. "Which are now… all dead."
G6 just watched him. Unreadable.
Then, Edmund's attention caught by a flicker of darkness where the dungeon mouth had been. A single object revealed by the collapse.
He moved toward it. Brow furrowed. A piece of paper, but black as pitch. Seemed to absorb light. On its surface, words scrawled in a substance that glistened a dull, dried red.
What is it?" G6 asked, coming to stand behind him.
"It… reminds me of incantations from the oldest texts." Voice tight. "This isn't a human language. It's the language of monsters…" He leaned closer. Eyes widened as he deciphered a few chillingly familiar glyphs. "No." A note of pure horror seeping into his tone. "This is the language of… demons."
G6, utterly unfazed, simply said, "Grab it."
"Are you losing your mind? This could be the very source of the mana dampening! And only ranking demons can write and read this! To even touch it could—"
"Then how do you propose we deal with it?" Impatience clear.
Edmund looked uncharacteristically helpless. "I… have lived a long life, but never encountered a true ranking demon. Only lesser monsters that evolved into new, bestial types. The ones who cannot yet speak, let alone read and write this."
G6 clicked her tongue in disdain. Reached out to grab the paper herself.
"Lady Reise! Do not be so hasty!" Edmund cried, lunging to stop her.
A second too late. As her fingers brushed the paper, a drop of blood—from a small, forgotten cut on her hand sustained in the fight—dripped from her finger. Landed directly on the incantation.
Instantaneous.
The black parchment glowed with a violent, searing light—electric blue and deep, ominous violet. The force made both stumble back a step in shock. They watched as the bloody letters on the page sizzled, burned away. Their power faded from potent crimson to faint, useless pink before vanishing entirely. The light died.
They stared at each other. Shared confusion.
Then, G6's body jolted slightly.
"It's back."
"What is, my lady?"
"The mana. It's back." A slow, almost euphoric smile touched her lips as the tingling sensation flooded her system, erasing fatigue. "As if a barrier was gone. My body's throwing a party right now."
Their eyes fell back to the now-harmless black paper. Truth dawning simultaneously.
The incantation hadn't been a trap—it was a lock. And her blood, the blood of a Reaper from another world, was the only key strange and potent enough to break it. They hadn't just cleared a goblin nest; they had unknowingly dismantled something far more ancient. Something sinister.
And once again, G6 had proven she was the most dangerous variable in any equation.
They walked out of the forest in heavy, shared silence. The weight of the black paper in G6's pocket felt heavier than any weapon. Neither spoke of what had transpired. Some truths needed to be processed alone.
First stop: grim cleanup. The boss goblin's massive corpse set ablaze first. Its one ear collected by Edmund as evidence to be submitted later at the guild. Next, the field of smaller bodies. Edmund produced a small, ceramic orb from his dimensional vault—a Sanctum-made incendiary device. Activated it. Tossed onto the pile. Flames erupted unnaturally hot, efficiently. Reduced remains to ash in minutes.
❈.❈.❈
At the forest's edge, the worried faces of Oak villagers greeted them. Collective relief.
"Thank goodness you're both alright!" Chief Johan rushed forward. Eyes scanned for injuries. "Gone for nearly two hours. We saw smoke. We feared the worst!"
A woman added, "That terrible roar! Shook the ground! We feared for you!"
Another man cried, "Moments from sending a rider to the guild for reinforcements! Thank the gods you're safe, Ms. G6, Sir Eddie!"
Edmund slipped back into his role. A reassuring smile. "No need for concern. Thank you for your concern. Everything taken care of. Oak is safe."
His words were met with cheers, grateful cries. Villagers then noticed their state—spatters of dark blood on Edmund's clothes. Most strikingly, G6's face, streaked with dried, flaking blood she hadn't bothered to properly wipe.
A small boy, no older than six, weaved through adults. "Big sister!" Chirped, holding out a clean, slightly worn towel. "Here."
G6 looked down. Analytical. Studying this small, fearless creature. His open smile, tiny stature a mirror of Lilia's. Something in her chest gave a faint, unfamiliar twinge. She took the towel.
"Thanks. Though, it's useless now." Flat. Blood long dried.
"There's a well right there! Come on, let's wipe it!" Another child grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the village well.
G6 allowed herself to be led. A strange sense of déjà vu. Edmund made a move to intervene, but was immediately swept up by Chief Johan and others, dragged toward a bench to sign completion papers, discuss details.
Left alone with children, G6 drew a bucket of water. Dampened the towel. Began to clean her face with a soldier's efficient, precise movements. Not rough. Not gentle. A task to be completed.
The little boy, Yohan, watched with wide, admiring eyes. "What's your name, big sister? My name is Yohan!" Cheerful.
Tch. Why is he talking to me? Children have a death wish with their trust. She scrubbed a stubborn spot on her cheek. "G6." A voice devoid of warmth.
"G6? Sister G6!" Committed to memory. "You know, big sister! My father is also an Adventurer. He's a C-Rank!" Proud. "But he's rarely home. His party always goes on long trips. My little sister and I are staying with our grandfather." Proud expression faltered into a slight frown.
G6 finished cleaning her face. Leaned back against the stone rim of the well. Looked at him. Blood gone, but evidence of the fight remained—a scratch on her hand, a darkening bruise on the corner of her lip. "Was your grandfather the Chief?"
"Yes! How did you know?" Amazed.
"Tch. It's your name." As if the most obvious thing. "So, you hate your father?"
"No!" Immediate, fierce. "He's doing it for us. And my father is strong! He's a frontliner, you know." A small chest puffed out with pride.
G6's eyes flickered. The boy's defiant pride is a stark contrast to her own complicated, heavy feelings for her father—a man she respected, feared, fought to impress. Who only saw her as his finest product. A tool to carry out the family's legacy.
The moment broken by Edmund's call. "G6! We're leaving."
She pushed off from the well. Began to walk away. After a few steps, paused. Half-turned back to Yohan. "Keep safe, kid. So your father won't worry while he's away." Words delivered in the same flat, emotionless monotone. But to Yohan, they felt strangely, unexpectedly warm.
Edmund already held reins of their horses. "We must hurry." Urgent whisper as she approached. "It's almost closing time." The unspoken threat of palace gates being shut for the night hung between them.
They swung up into saddles in unison. Pulled on long coats to conceal bloodstained clothes.
"Thank you again, Ms. G6, Sir Eddie! You have our village's eternal gratitude!" Chief Johan called.
"Our duty, Chief!" Edmund replied with a final, diplomatic wave.
"Goodbye, big sister G6!" Yohan yelled, waving enthusiastically.
G6 didn't wave back. Merely threw a last, unreadable glance in his direction before snapping her reins. The horse surged forward. Left grateful, the village cheers behind in a cloud of dust. Edmund followed.
❈.❈.❈
They rode hard away from Oak's quiet gratitude. Wind sharp contrast to village warmth. The open road narrowed, giving way to the capital's bustling outskirts. Freedom of wilds exchanged for crowded, stone-paved streets leading to palace gates. Final leg of their secret journey home.
At the capital, they stowed horses in the same secluded alley. Approached the Guild. A silent understanding passed between them.
"Let's keep the black paper a secret." They said in unison. Words hung in the air. A long, weighted look. Then, turned to enter without another word.
The moment they stepped inside, the guild's atmosphere shifted. All eyes drawn to the two figures who hadn't removed their long, dark coats or hoods that shadowed faces. In a hall full of armored warriors, leather-clad scouts, they looked less like adventurers and more like ominous specters of death.
They moved straight to the reception desk. Edmund lowered his hood first.
Liam let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "So it was just the two of you." Relief laced his voice. "You give off a seriously dangerous aura all covered up like that! What's with the—" Words died in his throat as his eyes landed on Edmund's shirt. Pristine white fabric spattered, smeared with dark, dried blood.
"Here." Edmund cut off the unasked question. Handed over the task poster, now signed by Chief Johan. "And here." Placed five heavy, lumpy bags onto the counter with a solid thump.
Liam's eyes widened. "What is this?" Mixture of shock and dread as he peeked inside one bag, confirming fears.
"Significant irregularity." Edmund explained calmly. "Located a horde of nearly two hundred goblins in Oak. Impossible for a village so close to the capital. Also found a newly formed dungeon, likely sustained by their presence. Dealt with."
"Well... I figured something was wrong with the request," Liam stammered, "but not to this extent. Right call to send you two. But... hard to believe you finished this many without serious injury."
"Say that after seeing this." Edmund carefully unfolded a separate cloth. Revealed the Hobgoblin's massive, distinct ear.
Liam's jaw went slack. "This... this is from an evolved goblin! A newtype demon!" Voice rising enough to draw more stares. "Who defeated this?"
"I did."
G6's voice was a flat, cold drone from the side of the counter where she leaned. Hood and sunglasses still firmly in place. Arms crossed. A silhouette of concealed danger.
"You... did?" Incredulous. "How? Most of the time, only a member of a party of nobles or one of the veteran knights can take down a newtype demon alone..."
"Stop pressing. You're irritating me. Process it now; we're in a hurry." Tone left no room for argument.
"Please, Liam." Edmund interjected smoothly.
Liam sighed, defeated. Gathered bags, evidence to take to the back for processing, payment.
"Are we getting money?" G6 asked. Pragmatic focus cutting through tension.
"Yes, my—G6." Edmund confirmed, catching himself.
"Good. We can fund ourselves without dipping into our official allowance." Already thinking three steps ahead. Planning future excursions.
Tch. This is like a secret operational fund. A burn account.
"Look who it is!" A familiar voice.
G6 turned her head slightly toward the sound. Sebastian. His party just returning from their own mission, filtering into the guild hall.
"G6!" Sebastian called. A warm smile as he approached. His companions—Xena, Dante, Nick—hung back, watching their captain's uncharacteristic eagerness with amused interest. "Where did you complete your task?"
"Fuck off." G6 stated coldly. Not even bothering to face him fully.
"Captain, how did you even know it was G6? She's completely covered," Nick teased.
"Ohhh, could it be an instinct of someone in love?" Xena added, fanning flames with a wide grin.
Sebastian's confident demeanor cracked into flustered embarrassment. A blush creeping up his neck. "D-don't say crazy stuff! You're embarrassing me!" A glare at his snickering team.
"Forgive them, G6. They're just—" he began, turning back to her.
"I said fuck off." G6 repeated. This time turned her head. Even through the dark tint of sunglasses, Sebastian, a fellow A-rank, could feel the deadly, venomous glare aimed directly at him. A palpable pressure that wiped the smile from his face.
"It seems you are exhausted from your task." His tone shifted to genuine, if awkward, concern. "Don't push yourself too hard. I heard you just got back." A softer smile. His dark brown hair, deep black eyes making the expression seem tender to anyone else. To G6, just another layer of annoyance.
"Eddie." G6 called. A clear dismissal.
"You're quite right, Sebastian." Edmund stepped in with practiced, diplomatic charm. "Could you be so kind as to give her some space? She's rather tired, truly."
"Of course!" Sebastian agreed. Not a hint of offense. Only understanding. "G6, I'll talk to you again when you're feeling better." A final, persistent smile before leading his slightly disappointed team to a nearby table.
G6 didn't answer. Her silence was the final, impenetrable wall.
A short while later, Liam returned from the back room. Slid a small, heavy pouch across the counter to Edmund.
"Reward for completed task. Five gold and two silver pieces. Guild took its small percentage for processing, as per standard."
Edmund took the pouch. G6's hand shot out, intercepted it. Hefted the pouch. Coins inside clinking with solid, satisfying weight. Pulled the drawstring open. Peered inside.
For the first time since entering the guild, her cold, impassive facade cracked. Behind sunglasses, eyebrows lifted slightly.
Five gold? For a few minutes of work? In her old world, a high-profile hit might pay in millions, but value was abstract, digital. This was different. Tangible, heavy, real wealth. This single pouch could likely feed a common family for a year. A slow, calculating smirk touched her lips. The risks of this new profession were becoming increasingly... worthwhile.
G6 closed the drawstring. Tucked the pouch into an inner pocket of her coat without a word. A silent signal to Edmund.
They turned from the counter. Two dark figures moving through the bustling hall toward the exit. As they passed Sebastian's table, his voice cut through the noise, cheerful and undeterred.
"Take care, you two! See you around, G6!"
G6 didn't break stride. Didn't turn her head. Didn't acknowledge him in any way. As if his words had simply evaporated into the air before they could reach her. She pushed through the guild's heavy doors. Stepped out into late afternoon light. Left the sound, the sentiment behind.
Sebastian watched her go. The faint, good-natured smile still on his face even as his team erupted in quiet laughter behind him.
"Wow, Captain. She really, really doesn't like you," Xena chuckled, sipping her drink.
"Shut up." Sebastian muttered, though his tone held no real anger. He shook his head. Gaze still fixed on the door that had just closed. "She's just... focused."
His team exchanged another round of knowing glances. Their captain was a skilled warrior, a good leader—but clearly a man hopelessly captivated. And the object of his fascination was an ice-cold fortress with no apparent drawbridge.
Outside, cool air hit G6's face. The encounter was already forgotten, filed away as an irrelevant nuisance. Her mind was on the next steps: returning to the palace, laundering her bloodstained clothes, and unraveling why a demonic incantation had been hidden in a forest just outside the capital.
Two figures melted back into the city's flow. The mission was complete, but their purpose had grown newly complicated.
The gold was a pittance compared to the real prize: the silent incantation now burning a hole in her pocket, its power sealed by a single drop of her blood. A chilling question now haunted the shadows behind her cold eyes—was her blood a key that could lock away darkness, or was it the catalyst for a catastrophe waiting to be born?
—To Be Continued…—