Two guards stood at the edge of a secluded alleyway, speaking in hushed tohe dim glow of a ntern flickered between them, castiless shadows against the stone walls.

  "Keep your voice down," one of them hissed, throwing a quice over his shoulder. "You want someoo hear?"

  The uard shifted unfortably, adjusting his grip on his halberd. "I'm just saying—it doesn't sit right with me. We're keeping something locked up, and no one really knows what it is. Just that it's... important."

  "That's not for us to question," the first guard muttered. "Orders are orders."

  "Still…" The sed guard lowered his voice further. "Did you hear what happe night? Some outsider oking around. The master's getting paranoid. Says we're to report anything unusual immediately."

  The first guard scoffed. "Paranoid is an uatement. You saw how jumpy he was at the st cil meeting? Whatever that thing is, he knows something we don't."

  A heavy siletled between them.

  A few steps away, Rael listened.

  He exhaled softly, stepping bato the shadows.

  Two days in Zarfar, and this was the closest he had gotten to anything solid. The Gurdle family was being careful—too careful. If the fragment was just a meaningless relic, they wouldn't be this secretive.

  The family was guarding something. That much was obvious. But from everything he had heard, they didn't actually know what it was. If they did, they wouldn't have let it sit untouched for so long. Instead, they had tur into some kind of false relic, keeping it locked away behind security measures even they didn't fully uand.

  And then there was the real problem.

  Someone had stolen the key.

  It had happened just a few days before he arrived in Zarfar. A trusted servant—one who had worked iate for years—had suddenly vanished. N, no trace. Just gone. And with him, an importao one of the family's hidden vaults.

  The guards weren't sure if he had run away or if something had happeo him. Some whispered that he had been caught and "silenced" before he could use it. Others believed he was still alive, hiding somewhere iy.

  If that key led to the fragment, then Rael had two options: Find the key first, or break into the vault himself.

  Either way, he needed more than just rumors. He needed certainty.

  Rael had learned plenty about the Gurdle family over the past two days. But knowing who they were wasn't enough. He needed something tangible—blueprints of the manor, patrol schedules, entry points, blind spots.

  So he did what he did best. He watched. He listened. He pnned.

  The Gurdle estate wasn't just a vish mansion—it ractically a fortified pound. High stone walls, reinforced gates, and heavily armed guards patrolling every entrand corridor. The Gurdles were merts, but their security rivaled that of a noble house. That alone was enough to make Rael suspicious. What were they hiding?

  But no defense erfect.

  Guards, no matter how elite, were still human. They had habits, weaknesses, blind spots. And Rael found his way in.

  His best lead came from a veteran guard—a grizzled man who had been w at the estate for years. A regur at the local tavern, he was a creature of habit. After each shift, he would drown himself in cheap ale, grumbling about work, venting frustrations to anyone willing to listen.

  Rael pyed along.

  At first, he was just another friendly face at the bar, nodding sympathetically as the man ranted about his long shifts, unreasonable superiors, and the 'pain in the ass' patrol rotations.

  "Bah, they got us walking around like we're some royal knights. Overkill, I tell ya. It's just a mert's house!"

  "Hah, tell me about it. How many shifts do you pull?"

  "Two rotations. M's the worst. Full perimeter sweep. By night, it's just hallway rounds. But lemme tell ya, ain't no oing in past the east gate. Always got at least four men there."

  The more he drank, the looser his to.

  Rael learned about the shift ges, which guards were more alert, and whies scked off he end of their patrols. Most importantly, he firmed that the study of Reyas Gurdle—the family head—was not just a private space but the pce of i. Guards never entered without permission, and it was one of the few rooms in the mansion with its own locked vault.

  But knowing this wasn't enough. Rael o get inside.

  Awo nights passed. Like before, he took the guard out drinking, nodding along to his usual pints. But this time, the ale was ced with a sleeping agent. It wasn't anythireme—just enough to knock him out. Level 50 or not, alcohol and sleep didn't respect levels. By the time the man slumped forward in his seat, Rael had already mapped out the step.

  He carried the unscious guard to a secluded alley, making sure no one was around. Theripped him of his uniform, do himself, and walked straight toward the manor.

  Nobody questioned him.

  One of the uards gnced his way wheered through the servant's gate, raising an eyebrow. "Your shift ended, didn't it?"

  Rael pulled out a folded letter, stamped with the Gurdle insignia. A fery, but a damn good one.

  "Mr. Reyas requested me personally," he said, keeping his tone even. "Needed somethirieved. Urgent."

  The guard hesitated, but the seal was enough. He grunted, waving him through. "Fine, just don't take too long."

  Rael entered without a wng around as he walked. The interior ristine as expected—polished stone floors, rich tapestries lining the walls, and golden dle sces casting flickering light along the corridors. He took a few steps in before subtly activating his system interface, pulling up the blueprint he had memorized.

  From here, there was a direct route—one of the less-used hallways—leading to a narrow stairwell that went straight up to the third floor. If he took it, he could avoid at least three guards stationed he main staircases. Effit.

  But just as he ehe hall leading to the stairwell, he froze.

  A ing dy stood there, holding a mop, staring at him.

  Her gaze immediately turned sharp. "This entrance is for family only," she said, her voice carrying the edge of someone ready to call fuard.

  Rael sighed. "Sorry, dy."

  Before she could shout, he moved. A quick step forward, hand tapping the side of her neck, applying just enough force to knock her out. She slumped against the wall. He caught her before she hit the floor, l her dowly.

  He didn't like doing that, but it was better than a full-scale arm.

  Straightening, he wasted no time and took the stairs, making his way directly to the third floor.

  Up here, security was tighter. No blind spots, fewer gaps in movement. The Gurdles were definitely hiding something.

  Rael khat walking into Reyas Gurdle's study with just the letter wouldn't cut it. The two guards statio the door wouldn't let him through just because of a piece of paper, no matter how good the fery was.

  Which is why he had a backup pn.

  Slipping a hand into his iory space, he pulled out a small device—a ridiculous but surprisingly effective tool Elias had picked up: a Sound Quacker.

  It was an arm. But instead of a regur alert sound, it mimicked aremely realistic duck quack.

  Rael crouched he base of a statue down the hall, set the timer on the device, then casually walked toward the study.

  The two guards fnking the door noticed him immediately.

  One of them frowned. "Keiran? Why are you here? You're stationed on the sed floor, and it's not even your shift."

  Rael barely had time to respond before, in the distance—

  QUACK. QUACK. QUACK.

  The loud, eg sound of a duck filled the hallway.

  Both guards stiffened, fused. One immediately turned. "What the hell was that?"

  "Probably some servant messing around," the other muttered.

  The first guard g his partner. "I'll check it out." He turned and walked off toward the noise, leaving only one guard at the door.

  Rael seized the opportunity.

  He held up the letter again, keeping his tone even. "Look, I'll be ba two minutes. Mr. Reyas ordered something checked urgently. You know how he gets when things aren't done fast."

  The remaining guard hesitated, but the bination of the fed insignia and the ued distra worked in Rael's favor.

  "Fine. Just don't take too long," the guard grumbled, stepping aside.

  Rael nodded ond pushed open the door to Reyas Gurdle's study.

  Reyas Gurdle's study was as extravagant as expected. A grand, luxurious room with dark oak paneling, golden inys, and an air of meticulous wealth. Portraits of past Gurdle family heads lihe walls, their painted eyes staring down in silent judgment. A massive desk sat in the ter, its surface pristine, save for an ornate inkstand and a few scattered dots.

  Rael barely spared the details a gnce. He didn't have time for admiration—only a.

  The sed duck arm would go off in two minutes, and he o find the vault fast.

  Think, Rael, think.

  In stories, safes were always behind paintings or under rugs. But Reyas Gurdle wasn't a ventional mahing about him screamed extra. He enjoyed grandeur, theatrics. That meant whatever security he had in pce wouldn't be ordinary.

  A minute had already passed.

  Rael didn't even bother cheg the rug or paintings. Instead, he went straight for the bookshelves, pulling out books rapidly, cheg for hidden partments. Nothing. Ahirty seds.

  He switched to the furniture, running his hands over the couches, feeling for false panels, anything out of pce.

  The duck arm bred in the hallway.

  The guards outside cursed. "What the hell again?! That stupid bird! Keiran, what are you—?"

  Rael's mind raced.

  Then his gaze lifted.

  A delier. A massive, elegant thing with casg crystal ors. But something was off—the reinforced core, the thick wires for stability. It was excessive, even for a rich man like Reyas.

  His eyes narrowed. No way.

  Without hesitation, he climbed onto the bookshelf, steadied himself, then leaped. His fingers caught the delier, and it swayed slightly under his weight. He hooked his legs around the metal frame and reached into the intricate mess of crystals and gold.

  His fingers brushed against cold steel.

  A vault.

  Tucked right at the ter, cleverly disguised by the delier's structure. But Rael's stomach sank when he saw what was in front of it.

  The vault door was already open.

  "Fuck."

  The arm rang out. Not the duck arm. The real one.

  Rael cursed under his breath. He had seds before the guards burst in.

  He lunged for the baly, throwing himself over the railing. His boots hit the stone ledge of another se of the manor, barely catg himself as he slipped. He steadied his footing, then took off, sprinting along the ledge.

  Shouts behind him.

  Arrows whistling past.

  He twisted mid-run, pulling a small smoke potion bomb from his belt and hurling it behind him. The instant it shattered, thick white smoke exploded into the air, masking his escape.

  Dug low, Rael leaped from the ledge onto a lower rooftop, rolled on impact, and scrambled towards the shed in the courtyard. He pushed inside, catg his breath, letting the shadows cover him.

  He waited.

  Footsteps.

  Guards passed by, sing the area, their torches flickering against the shed's walls. Rael exhaled slowly, ting the seds before making his move—

  A hand grabbed his colr and yanked him further into the darkness.

  Rael barely had time to react before the shed door cracked open slightly. Through the gap, a guard stht outside, gng around.

  Silence.

  Then, after a few moments, the guard turned away. His footsteps faded into the distance.

  Rael stiffeurning to the person who had just dragged him in.

  A man stood in the dim light of the shed. His clothing was simple, unremarkable—a low priestly robe draped over his frame, slightly worn at the edges. His hair was a mess of blonde curls, half-shadowed by the dim ntern light filtering through the cracks of the shed. A ag.

  [Victor]

  Rael's eyes flicked to the ag on his interface, but he didn't aowledge it immediately. Always better to tread carefully with mysterious NPCs.

  "Who are you?" he asked.

  The man leaned back against the wooden frame of the shed.

  "Victor," he answered simply.

  Rael gave a short nod. "Noctus."

  A faint smile tugged at Victor's lips, as if amused. "And here I thought I was the only one sneaking around tonight. Let me guess—you were here for the vault's tents too?"

  Rael didn't respond.

  Victor studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. Not my business. Either way, it's empty. I came to check myself."

  That part caught Rael's attention. If Victor had also e for the vault, did he know what was supposed to be inside?

  Before he could ask, Victor tinued, "If you want to get out of here safely, follow me. I've been serving the Gurdle family for around 12 years. I know a few secret passages."

  Rael hesitated. He didn't trust this guy yet, but the arms were still bring outside. If he stayed too long, muards would be on him soon. He had no other option.

  "Lead the way."

  Victor nodded and moved swiftly, guiding Rael through the manor's lesser-known corridors. They passed through a narrow hallway behind a wine rack, desding a cealed staircase that led them uhe estate. After weaving through damp stounnels, they emerged in a quiet alley far from the chaos.

  * * *

  The tavern was dimly lit, filled with the usual crowd of merts, travelers, and off-duty guards. The two of them sat in a er booth, away fr eyes.

  Victor leaned forward, resting his arms oable. "So, mind telling me what you were after? Gold?" His tone was casual, assuming Rael was just ahief.

  Rael tapped his fingers against the wooden table, sidering his response. He could spin a lie or keep things vague, but something about Victor's presence made him decide otherwise.

  Without a word, he pulled the vase from his iory a oable.

  Victor's expression ged instantly. His lighthearted demeanor vanished, repced by pure shock. His eyes widened as he grabbed the vase and immediately hid it beh his robes.

  His voice was sharp. "Where did you get this?"

  Rael watched him carefully. "A girl. She told me t it to you."

  For a moment, Victor didn't move. Then, his hands tightened around the hidden vase. His words came slower, heavier.

  "What happeo her?"

  There was something in his voice—a mix of anger and something else. Ay.

  Rael leaned back slightly. "She was being chased. I helped her escape, but she ran off before I could stop her."

  Victor exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. Then, after a long pause, he said, "Thanks."

  Victor didn't linger iavern after that. He gnced around once before standing up. "This pce isn't safe. e with me."

  Rael didn't argue. He could tell Victor was being careful, and sidering the situation, it made sehe Gurdles were powerful, and if Victor was involved with them in any way, he likely had enemies.

  Victor led him through the darkereets, taking winding paths that avoided the main roads. Eventually, they reached what looked like an abandoned shopfront. Victor pushed open the wooden door, leading Rael i was dusty, empty—until Vioved aside a worn- and pulled up a hidden trapdoor.

  "Down here," he said.

  Rael followed him into the underground hideout. The air was cool, the walls lined with shelves filled with books, old artifacts, and supplies. A siern cast a flickering glow, making shadows dan the stone walls.

  Victor finally rexed. "Now we talk properly."

  He pulled up a chair, gesturing for Rael to do the same. Sitting dow out a quiet breath.

  "The girl who gave you this is Freya—my little sister."

  "Freya and I… we weren't born into the Gurdle family. We were adopted. Madam Lilia Gurdle took us in when we were just kids—she was kind, treated us well. I was seven, Freya was three. We may have been servants, but we were never mistreated."

  Rael listened silently.

  "But then Madam Lilia died. Of illness. And everything ged."

  Victor's fiightened slightly. "Sir Reyas… he was devastated. He was a strong man, proud, but losing her broke him. And then, someone came along—someone who fed him a lie."

  "A false artifact," Rael said, catg on.

  Victor nodded. "They told him there was an artifact that could bring her back. He poured nearly the entire Gurdle fortuo obtaining it. And in the end? All it could do was let him speak to her specter."

  Rael narrowed his eyes. "So the vault was supposed to hold that artifact?"

  "It was," Victor said. "But it's gohat means Sir Reyas must have moved it."

  Rael g the vase Victor had hidden. "And this? What does this have to do with it?"

  Victhed, leaning back. "The artifact wasn't something you could just pick up and use. It existed in a way that made it… unreachable, intangible. The vase was necessary to i with it."

  "Then why did Freya steal it?"

  "Because she knew," Victor said quietly. "She khat Madam's specter wasn't really her. And that Sir Reyas was slowly dying each time he used the artifact."

  Rael sat back, abs Victor's words.

  A thought lingered in his mind. Who was the one who gave Reyas the false artifact?