She looked at this strange, calm man who spoke of the situation with the same gravity others reserved for life and death, and then a flicker of the formidable warrior returned to Lucia's eyes, the vulnerability shunted aside by a cold, pragmatic survival instinct. The offer was too perfect, too convenient. A stranger does not intervene in such matters without a motive that served himself.
"Understand this," she said, her voice dropping to a lethal whisper that seemed to lower the temperature around them. "This is a temporary alliance. If you try anything… amusing… I will end you."
It wasn't a threat born of suspicion toward his character—her senses screamed that his intent, while complex and layered with its own agendas, was devoid of the specific, greasy film of betrayal or personal malice. It was a warning born of experience. Help this sudden, this powerful, always came with a price tag she might not be able to see until it was too late.
Joshey felt the shift. The air around her grew heavy, not with mana, but with the sheer, focused will to kill. It was a pressure that physically pressed against his mana field, causing the finely-tuned energy to stutter and hum with interference. Had his field been the weak, flickering thing it was weeks ago, the visceral, primal fear it would have induced might have been overwhelming. Now, it was a potent warning, a testament to her power.
«Her combat pressure is… significant,» Elias observed, a note of clinical respect in his tone. «It's not mana-based. It's pure, refined lethality. It resonates on a frequency that disrupts ambient energy. Fascinating.»
Internally, Joshey remained unshaken. He met her gaze, his own holding a placid, almost unnerving honesty. "I have no intention of duping you," he stated, his voice calm and level, cutting through her threatening aura. "My true purpose in accompanying you is to acquire the intelligence required to dismantle this abhorrent system from within. To fight an enemy this entrenched, you need more than a blade. You need a strategy. And for a strategy, you need data. Consider this my initial field research."
Lucia's senses, stretched to their limit, swept over him. She found no trace of the bitter, coppery flavor of a lie. Instead, there was the clean, sharp scent of cold resolve and a chilling, analytical ambition. It was not comforting, but it was… aligned. For now. He was genuine in his desire to see the system broken. And at this moment, that was enough.
"…Very well," she conceded, the lethal pressure vanishing as suddenly as it appeared. "I would accompany a demon from the netherworld if it led to my brother. We leave. Now." She turned to go, but Joshey's voice stopped her, with the infuriating, unassailable logic of a master planner.
"One moment. We cannot proceed with haste and call it a plan," he said, holding up a hand. "We operate with two critical deficits: One, we lack the precise internal layout of the granary. And two, I am not a wandering vagrant. I have responsibilities. I must inform my staff of a temporary absence and speak with Sylvaine. Disappearing creates problems we do not need."
"Every second we waste here is a second they could be moving him!" Lucia insisted, the frantic energy returning to her voice.
"Calm your mind," Joshey instructed, his tone that of a senior analyst addressing a junior associate in a crisis. "Do you even know the basis of this trade? The process?"
She stared at him, silent. She knew violence and tracking, not bureaucracy.
"It takes a minimum of three weeks," he explained, the information flowing from Elias's memory banks into his speech. "Three weeks of 'screening' and 'evaluation' of the goods. They assess health, strength, skills, and mental fortitude. They find the right buyers, the right markets. They don't just throw valuable assets onto the first cart out of town. It is a business. A slow, meticulous, and vile one."
"How… how can you know this?" Lucia asked, a sliver of desperate hope piercing through her impatience.
"The information isn't exactly secret," Joshey said with a grimace. "It's just that no one who isn't directly threatened by it bothers to look. But when you're a man perpetually on the brink of falling into that very system, you learn its schedule. You learn the rhythm of the abyss, waiting for the day you might slip." The words were his, but the lingering, soul-deep fear behind them was a ghost from Elias's past.
Lucia looked at him, truly seeing the man—Elias—for the first time. Not just as a mysterious merchant, but as someone who had lived with this very monster breathing down his neck. The truth in his words was undeniable. She gave a single, sharp nod. "Alright."
"Good," Joshey said, his demeanor shifting back to one of efficient action. "Then let us be calm, and let us be smart. I need to get my affairs in order. You will wait. Use the time to center yourself. A frantic blade is a dull one."
He turned and began walking toward his hut with a purposeful stride, not waiting to see if she followed. Lucia stood for a moment, the storm inside her quieted not by reassurance, but by the cold, hard framework of a plan. The path to her brother was no longer a desperate, headlong rush into darkness. It had become a mission. And the strange man walking away from her was, for now, her unlikely strategist. She took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of his chilling resolve still hanging in the air, and followed.
***
As Joshey moved with practiced efficiency inside his hut—gathering pre-written travel permits, a map, and a pouch of high-denomination florins—Lucia stood alone in the small, sun-drenched compound. Her earlier panic had subsided, replaced by a strange, quiet awe.
She looked around, truly seeing it for the first time. The patched roof, the well-tended vegetable patch fighting its way through the rocky soil, the simple, honest wear on the wooden fence. It was… beautiful. Not in the grand, imposing way of the Earivel clan's mountain citadel, but in its quiet resilience. The air here didn't hum with latent killing intent or the oppressive weight of ancestral expectation. It smelled of earth, of simple meals, of a life lived without constant vigilance.
This was why her senses were in a quiet uproar. They weren't screaming danger; they were drowning in normalcy. It was a sensory overload of a different kind. Back home, her survival instinct was a constant, automated shield, eating away at her softer emotions, leaving behind the cold, efficient heir the clan required. When that mode activated, her power would spike, her combat field—a palpable aura of dread—would weaken her opponents' resolve. It was a fearsome power, but it came at the cost of her own humanity. Here, in this honest place, the shield was down. No one looked at her with fear or reverence. They saw just a girl. And for the first time in a long time, she felt… relaxed. She could almost forget the weight of the title now thrust upon her after her brother's banishment.
Before the thought could spiral into the familiar loneliness, the hut door creaked open. Joshey emerged, a leather satchel slung over his shoulder, his demeanor all business.
"Okay," he announced, "first, the market. I need to submit my leave of absence to my staff and the Guild."
Lucia blinked, the peaceful moment shattered. "The Guild? Will they even allow it?"
A wry, knowing smile touched Joshey's lips. "The Guild doesn't rationally care if I'm present or absent, Lucia. They care about the flow of florins. As long as the levies are paid and the ledgers are in order, I could be on the moon for all they care. I am a revenue stream, not a person."
The cynical, brutal honesty of it was so stark it was almost funny. A small, genuine laugh escaped Lucia's lips, a sound as rare and beautiful as a sunshower. "You have a very… unique way of seeing the world, Elias."
"It's the only way that makes sense," he countered, falling into step beside her as they headed toward the East Quarter. "People pretend there are rules of honor and duty, but beneath it all, it's just math. Supply, demand, risk, and reward."
"And what's the reward here?" she asked, her tone playful but her eyes sharp.
"The reward," he said, glancing at her, "is data. And perhaps, the chance to prove that some equations can be changed."
The conversation was light, almost bantering, but Joshey watched her closely. The frantic, hunted creature from the alley was gone, replaced by this… person. He'd been worried for himself when her killing intent had flared, yes. But seeing her now, he felt a pang of something else. He was looking at someone who had been raised in an environment where trust was a liability and empathy a weakness. Her momentary peace was a testament to a life usually devoid of it.
They reached the market stall. His team—Lyra, Mira, Talia, and the energetic Anya—were in their usual rhythm. When Joshey presented the formal leave papers, there was concern, but no panic. He spoke to them with a calm authority, delegating responsibility, assuring them of his return within a month. They, in turn, bowed respectfully, a well-oiled machine trusting its conductor. "Safe travels, Proprietor," Anya said, her usual grin tempered with genuine well-wishing.
The final stop was the Guild hall to inform Finn. But as they stepped into the vast, echoing plaza, Joshey felt the change in Lucia before he saw it.
It was subtle. Her breathing shallowed. The relaxed set of her shoulders vanished, replaced by a fluid, ready looseness. Her gaze, which had been soft and observant, became a sweeping, constant scan, missing nothing. Her scent shifted—the clean, rain-like quality was gone, replaced by the faint, metallic sharpness of honed steel. To anyone else, she might have just looked alert. But to Joshey, whose senses were now synchronized with a hyper-aware consciousness, it was a five-alarm fire. Her survival instinct had just kicked in. Automated. Lethal.
«Shit,» he thought, the plan unraveling in his mind. «Shit, shit, shit. If a Guild guard or, spirits forbid, someone from Viggo's crew picks up on this… if they sense the predator in the room…»
He saw Finn approaching, his recorder's slate in hand. There was no time.
Joshey didn't break stride. He reached Finn in three quick steps, his voice low and urgent, cutting off the young man's formal greeting. "Finn. Handle the rest. I'm leaving. Now." He shoved the formal leave parchment into the recorder's hands.
Before Finn could even process the breach of protocol, Joshey had already turned. He moved to Lucia's side, and with a firm but subtle pressure on her elbow, he guided her—not roughly, but insistently—toward the nearest exit.
"Walk," he murmured, his voice a quiet command beside her ear. "Don't look back. Just walk."
He didn't need to explain. She felt it too—the dangerous shift within her, the mask of normalcy slipping to reveal the weapon beneath. And in that moment, as he guided her away from prying eyes, the alliance felt less like a transaction and more like a pact. He wasn't just using her for data. He was protecting his asset, yes, but he was also protecting her from the consequences of her own terrifying nature.
Once they were a safe distance from the Guild hall's oppressive atmosphere, Joshey released Lucia's elbow. The tension in her frame slowly ebbed, the predatory sharpness in her eyes softening back into wary confusion.
"Why did that happen?" Joshey asked, his tone not accusatory, but analytical. "The sudden... shift."
Lucia shook her head slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. "I don't know. It's... automatic. When I'm surrounded by too many people whose intentions feel... murky, clouded. It just... happens."
Joshey gave a slow, internal nod. «That's just about right, lol,» he thought to Elias. «Her threat detection isn't based on overt action, but on ambient emotional 'vibes.' A room full of greedy, ambitious, or cruel people is a trigger. The Guild plaza is basically a trigger factory.»
Aloud, he simply said, "I understand. My apologies for the rush. We have one more stop to make."
"Where?" Lucia asked, her guard still partially up.
"To see my master. I need to inform her of my departure."
Lucia's eyebrows rose in surprise. "That was it? What you did back there with the recorder? That was all you needed from the Guild?"
"That was all," Joshey confirmed, resuming their walk. "Finn is competent. He'll file the paperwork, ensure the levies are paid from the stall's profits. The machine will keep running. That's all the Guild cares about."
As they approached the familiar, warmly lit facade of The Toasty Tavern, Lucia's pace slowed. A look of recognition dawned on her face. "Your master... works here?"
"Yeah," Joshey said, pushing the door open. The comforting din of the diner washed over them. "Her name's Sylvaine."
A small, genuine smile, the second one Joshey had seen from her, touched Lucia's lips. "I know her," she said, her voice softening. "I ate here when I first arrived. She was... very kind to me. She told me not to hide my face." There was a note of fondness in her voice that was entirely new. "I like her."
Joshey looked at her, seeing the genuine warmth the mention of Sylvaine inspired. It was a stark contrast to the lethal weapon of moments before. "She has that effect on people," he replied, a hint of a smile on his own face. "She sees through a lot of the nonsense."
They spotted Sylvaine near the bar, effortlessly directing her staff with a quiet word or a gesture. She saw them approach, her sharp silver eyes taking in the pair—Joshey with his travel satchel, and Lucia, who seemed to stand a little straighter, a little less like a shadow, in the diner's presence.
"Elias," Sylvaine greeted, her tone warm but laced with curiosity. "And Lucia. This is a interesting combination. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her gaze lingered on Joshey's pack.
"Master Sylvaine," Joshey began with a respectful nod. "I'm taking a leave of absence. A month, perhaps. Business and... personal research out of town."
Sylvaine's eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "Research," she repeated, the word heavy with unasked questions. Her gaze flicked to Lucia, then back to him. "This is sudden. Your market venture is barely out of its cradle."
"The foundations are solid. The team can manage," Joshey said, his confidence unshaken. "This research is crucial for its long-term stability. And for my... understanding."
He was speaking in code, but Sylvaine was fluent. She could feel the shift in him, the new, unsettling purpose that had replaced mere ambition. She could also feel the quiet, desperate tension radiating from Lucia, a girl she had found intriguingly opaque.
She studied them for a long moment, the noise of the diner fading into a backdrop. She saw the alliance, fragile and new, and the dangerous path it likely heralded.
"Very well," she said finally, her voice soft but firm. "Take care of yourself, Elias. And look after your companion." Her eyes held his, imparting a silent message of warning and expectation. "Don't do anything irreversibly foolish."
"I'll do my best," Joshey replied, a faint, grim smile on his lips. He gave a final, respectful nod. "Thank you, Master."
With that, he turned, and Lucia fell into step beside him, offering Sylvaine a small, grateful bow of her own before they disappeared back out into the street.
Sylvaine watched the door swing shut, her expression unreadable. The pieces were moving on the board, and Elias was no longer a passive piece. He was a player, and he had just made his first aggressive move, aligning himself with a mysterious, dangerous girl.
As the dinner rush began to swell around her, Sylvaine didn't move. She sent a silent, focused pulse of mana, a whisper on a specific, private frequency she shared with her most trusted agent.
«Kieran,» her thought projected, crisp and clear. «The variable is in motion. He's left the city with the girl from the Earivel clan. The destination is likely connected to the criminal element. Do not interfere. But watch him. Closer than ever before. I want to know everything.»
High above the city, perched on a gargoyle overlooking the main gate, Kieran Vale received the message. A faint, predatory smile touched her lips. The hunt was on.
«Understood, Master,» she thought back. «I'll stick to him like a shadow.»
As Joshey and Lucia passed through the city gates, unaware, a silent, lethal shadow detached itself from the stonework and began to follow, her presence vanishing into the twilight. The game had truly begun.