We walked together to the academy gate. Lira flashed her permit at the guards and explained I was assisting her at the clinic. They waved us through without a second glance.
With her around, everything ran smoother. She provided food, shelter, and an easy pass whenever I needed to move around.
'Perks of sleeping with someone competent.'
The system worked.
There was something about her that made people gravitate toward her orbit. The guys especially looked like they'd sell their souls for one night with her, but Lira was a master at the game — she knew how to reel men in with one hand while building walls with the other. Sad to watch, really. Still, I couldn't help the pride that swelled in my chest watching her work a room.
Because I knew I was the one fucking her.
And I was fucking her good, making her legs tremble every damn time.
Each time we went at it, Lira's eyes rolled back and her toes curled. She couldn't get enough. She'd begged to take me to her house more than once, but I refused — too much risk, too many variables I couldn't control. So now she stayed some nights at the clinic instead, sometimes waking me up with her mouth already on my dick.
Sneaky, needy little fox. Cute, though.
Thanks to our surprisingly rigorous activities this past week, I was closing in on the one-thousand mark on my spirit essence. Something told me hitting that number would mean something big. A threshold. Maybe a new villainess, maybe just a stronger capacity — either way, I wanted to cross it.
I could also maintain Kassie for a full hour now before burning out. Solid progress.
As we stepped outside the academy, Lira flagged down a carriage pulled by two brown horses speckled with white patches like scattered maps. White manes too, bright against the muddy street.
"The Mercenary Guild," Lira said.
"Two passengers, twenty-five bronze."
Lira narrowed her eyes at the driver, sizing him up.
"Twenty."
"Alright, twenty. The Mercenary Guild's way out of my usual route, and I'd have to pay Levi if the local soldiers spot me there."
"Fifteen. And don't worry — no one's going to shake you down." She glanced at me, gesturing for me to climb on with her eyes.
Sometimes the contrast hit me hard. In bed, she called me daddy and begged me to fuck her harder. Out here, she could easily pass for my aunty — all business, no softness, like we barely knew each other.
I climbed aboard. After a while, we arrived at Soldier's Rest Avenue where the Mercenary Guild sat — a weathered building that looked like it had survived three fires and a siege. As we crossed the street, Lira paused, kissed a coin, and dropped it into a beggar's cap.
She did that every time we came through. I was still waiting for the right moment to ask why. Not that I was against charity, but this felt deeper. Personal.
Inside, a girl with blue hair shot to her feet the moment she spotted us.
"Lira! Cade!" She beamed, eyes flicking to me as she swept a strand of hair behind her ear. A little too eager.
"Is Tris in?"
"He's been waiting." Victoria's answer came instantly, breathless.
Lira gave her a quick nod and walked deeper inside. I followed, feeling Victoria's gaze drilling into my back until I disappeared through the doorway.
'Girl needs a hobby.'
The main hall buzzed with noise — ale sloshing, food being devoured, voices rising and falling in loose, half-drunken conversation. Busiest I'd seen it in two weeks. Bags cluttered every corner, and the place looked even grimier than usual, dust and dried mud tracked across the floorboards.
Reading my confusion as we made for the kitchen, Lira said, "The main mercenary team just got back from a major job with the Merchant Guild." She picked up her pace.
Just before we reached the kitchen, a loud, raspy voice cut through the noise like a rusted blade.
"Lira!! Uhn! Your own uncle's been gone ten months and you're not gonna say hello?!"
I saw her bite her lip the second she heard him. Saw the flash of something ugly cross her face before she buried it.
She stopped. Turned. Plastered on a smile that didn't reach her eyes — a performance I'd seen her rehearse on lesser men.
"Viron! Stop calling yourself my uncle when you've tried slipping your hand up my skirt twice. Oh my goodness, Viron — you made it back this time! Guess I need to work harder on those prayer sessions. Damn, I miss them. But hey, who knows? Next job might be your last. Stay hopeful!" She winked, blew him a kiss, and spun back around.
Her face went cold the instant she turned away. Frozen over like a lake in winter.
The others laughed and ripped into the large man with his thick brown beard.
"Lira hates you more than anyone! I can't believe you tried to fuck her when you were friends with her father!"
"What?! Wouldn't you?"
"You guys can fight over Lira. Clara's all I need. Oh, Eternal Sun! I want her to tie me up and beat me senseless!"
I shook my head at the kind of talk coming from men who just dragged themselves back from what looked like hell.
'Priorities.'
We passed through the kitchen, greeting a few people along the way. A young man tossed me a fresh roll of bread, still warm from the oven.
"Better fill your stomach before Tris whacks you around again today."
I laughed, but it came out bitter. Still, I bit into the bread — soft inside, crusty outside. Good enough.
A fat man stepped away from the table where he'd been butchering meat. He wiped his hands roughly on his apron and hurried to fetch a cup of water, catching us just before we left the kitchen.
"Here, boy. Take this. Worrying about Sir Tris beating your ass is one thing, but you'll die faster choking on that dirty grunt's bread."
I laughed, shy. The man had a point.
"Why worry about dying? Mister Baba, you always look out for me. Bring me water every time."
He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper like he was sharing state secrets.
"I hear Sir Tristan's in a foul mood today... You might catch extra licks."
He leaned closer, relishing the gossip like fine wine.
"Apparently, Clara sent one of his newest... 'clients' away. You get it, boy?" He chuckled, jabbing me lightly in the ribs with one thick finger.
Tristan was famous around here for his conquests — which made his overwhelming combat ability even more baffling. The man was an S-rank Regular Summoner and assistant guildmaster of the Mercenary Guild. Most people couldn't balance both a legendary libido and legendary swordsmanship.
Apparently, Tristan could.
I said goodbye to Baba and caught up with Lira, who was already with Clara in the hallway.
Chestnut hair cascading down her back. Tight leather ensemble. Pants that clung to her hips like a second skin. Her breasts were smaller than Lira's, but she was taller with hips that demanded attention — the kind of build that made men stupid.
The three of us walked down another hallway and emerged into the building's backyard.
There, leaning against one of the beams supporting the upper floor, was a man with wet, wavy white hair and sharp blue eyes. Beard scruff shadowed his chin. One arm rested on the beam, and beneath it stood a woman in a green gown, cleavage threatening to spill out with every breath. Dark brown hair framed her face as she laughed and blushed at whatever he was saying.
"Tristan! You incompetent fucker!" Clara's voice cracked like a whip the second she spotted him.
He flinched — actually flinched — turning with a tired frown. The woman looked at us, confused and suddenly wary.
"Who are these people, Tris?"
Lira sighed, the kind of sigh that said she'd done this speech too many times.
"Did he tell you he has an estate in Winston County?"
The woman nodded quickly, hope still clinging to her voice.
"He told us the same thing. I've got two kids with him. She's got three. And we've never seen this estate."
Clara added, voice flat, "Don't be foolish like us."
The woman's face darkened, color draining from her cheeks. She turned to Tristan, who let out a nervous chuckle — the kind that said he knew exactly how fucked he was.
"Brianna, calm down—"
Slap!
The sound echoed across the yard like a gunshot.
"Ooooh!" Clara and Lira winced in unison, like they'd felt it themselves.
"You liar! I hate you!"
The woman stomped away, storming out through the back door with enough force to rattle the frame.
Tristan turned to us, throwing up his hands in mock exasperation.
"Really, Clara? Twice in one day?" He shot Lira a sharp glare. "You too?"
Lira forced a smile, looking away like she'd suddenly found the wall fascinating.
"Don't look at me. Face Clara."
Clara folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to actually do it. Instead, the bastard swung his gaze to me and grinned like a devil who'd just found a new toy.
"Otherworlder! Summon that sexy Heroic Spirit of yours. Let me give you another thrashing so I can feel better."
I muttered bitterly.
"I'm F-rank, you shameless cunt. Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"
Red sparks shimmered around me anyway.