“P-Platinum!” the gate guard stammered, struck speechless at the sight of my badge.

  Myrta, to drive the point home, showed hers too — white, made from some material I couldn’t even identify.

  The guard’s aura told me he was about to have a heart attack. I gave him a few light taps on the cheek to bring him back to his senses.

  “Hey, you alright? Just jot it down in your logbook, we’re moving on.”

  “One moment, honored guests!”

  He shouted for a few more guards, who quickly began clearing the crowd at the gate to make way for us.

  “Please, come through! Why didn’t you inform the authorities beforehand? We would have given you a proper welcome! How could this happen, how could this…”

  He kept fretting, so we hurried into the city to spare ourselves the noise.

  We hailed the first free coachman we saw and ordered him to take us to the best hotel in town.

  “The Diamond of Rofto,” Myrta read the sign above the entrance. “They sure know how to brag.”

  And brag they could — I had to admit it.

  Despite our rather humble appearance, the porter politely escorted us to the registration desk. Although even he couldn’t completely hide his reaction when we produced our badges.

  “How many rooms would you like, honored guests?” the administrator asked with prim formality.

  “Two.”

  “One!” Myrta interrupted me.

  She twirled her hand, drawing attention to the red contract ribbon tied around her wrist.

  “A servant cannot leave their master.”

  Even the administrator nearly fell over from shock.

  “Fine, one. But make it large,” I agreed.

  The administrator handed a key to the porter, who led us up to the third floor.

  “The Royal Suite, honored guests! We hope you have a most pleasant stay!”

  I tried to tip him, but he politely refused. Maybe tipping was forbidden here.

  The room was indeed spacious, composed of several chambers. I approached a window overlooking the central square. A puppet theater troupe was just beginning a performance.

  “Looks like it’s about you, Lord Aney,” Myrta pointed to a bulletin board displaying an advertisement for the play.

  “‘The Holy Gods versus Aney the Demon,’” I read aloud. “Bastards. Where are my royalties?!”

  “Maybe you should scatter them to hell?”

  “Nah, now I’m curious…”

  Someone knocked softly at the door.

  I checked their auras — it was the familiar porter and a High-Rank Combat Ancestor standing beside him.

  “Who is it?”

  “Honored Aney, the head of the city wishes to pay his respects…” the porter announced.

  “Let him in.”

  The mayor was an aging brute with sagging cheeks and a fleshy face.

  His slightly graying hair was disheveled, and it looked like he had been dragged straight from his bed at the news of honored guests arriving.

  I perched myself on the windowsill to keep an eye on the show and gestured toward a chair across from me.

  “Honored Aney!” the mayor said, sinking into the chair, which creaked ominously under him. “Princess! What a surprise to have you visit my city! Please forgive me, I, Mark, had no notice of your arrival — we would have prepared a proper welcome…”

  I nodded absently, watching the puppet version of Aney set fire to a model city and tear the puppet citizens in half.

  “Go on,” I said, genuinely intrigued — both by the mayor’s unexpected appearance and the performance outside.

  “I have brought a gift to honor your visit!”

  He pulled out a large ornate box and opened it, revealing three rainbow-hued monster cores of the eighth rank.

  No, you’re not impressing me with this.

  Still, I nodded at Myrta to accept the gift, signaling I bore no hostility toward him or the city.

  “So, Honored Aney, what brings you here?”

  “Oh, nothing much… Just here to enjoy the thrilling performance. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “The performance?” the mayor furrowed his brow, struggling to recall something.

  “Oh, it’s truly fascinating,” Myrta interjected. “Lord Aney is quite taken with it. Though he did mention something about royalties…”

  “Royalties?”

  Mark’s face lit with realization.

  He leapt from the chair and rushed to the window beside me.

  By the gods, I didn’t know there were human chameleons — he turned from red to white to green in just a second.

  “I… I’ll stop it! Right now!”

  He made a move toward the door, but I pushed him back into the chair with a wave of my aura and pinned him there.

  “Sit quietly! You’re in the way!”

  The poor man couldn’t even twitch under the steady pressure of my aura.

  He could only watch silently as I continued observing the show.

  On stage, the puppet Aney was now facing two puppet White Twins — or rather, they were blocking him from destroying another model town.

  The crowd was finally cheering.

  “Rip the bastard apart!”

  “Kill the devil’s spawn!”

  “Don’t let him die quickly!”

  “Let him suffer and writhe!”

  Their shouts were loud enough to be heard clearly even without warrior senses.

  “Oh, they’re really fired up!” I said aloud.

  “Honored Aney, honored…”

  “Tsssss! I’m listening. Why are you so dense?”

  “Honored Aney, it’s a misunderstanding! I’ll explain everything!”

  “Shut your mouth already! It’s just getting good!”

  I pressed the aura harder until the chair beneath the mayor crumbled, finally silencing him.

  Outside, the puppet gods nailed puppet Aney to the ground and began declaring the verdict.

  “For all the atrocities! For all the murders! For all the tragedies! For all the suffering! For all the ruined lives! You, Aney the God of War, shall bear the punishment of the White Twins!”

  One puppet tore off puppet Aney’s leg and hurled it into the crowd.

  People roared, each scrambling to grab a piece.

  “Does it hurt, Aney?!” cried the white puppet.

  “That’s nothing compared to the pain of the people!”

  The second leg was torn off and trampled underfoot by the frenzied crowd.

  “Your pain cannot quell humanity’s thirst for justice!”

  The puppet god ripped both puppet arms off at the shoulders and raised them high.

  “I see your disbelief, that you could finally be punished for your crimes! But this is only the beginning, Aney! We shall torture your soul for a thousand more years!”

  “Yessss!” screamed the crowd.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  They stretched their hands toward the stage, desperate to tear at the puppet’s remains.

  Hell, if it were the real me, they wouldn’t be any less enthusiastic.

  I grinned.

  “Even your heart, blacker than any evil on this continent,” the puppet god roared, ripping a dark object — meant to symbolize Aney’s heart — from the puppet’s chest, “will not shake our people’s belief in justice and goodness, for the White Twins always stand guard over them!”

  The puppet god crushed the black heart and bellowed:

  “Burn, burn in hell forevermore, cursed God of War Aney!”

  Where the puppet’s remains lay, fire burst forth, slowly turning the body to ash.

  “Burn! Burn! Burn!!!” the crowd chanted.

  It seemed the show was nearing its climax.

  Damn, I just had to applaud such a spectacle!

  I opened the window and strode into the air, hovering at the third-floor height, clapping my hands loudly.

  To make sure my applause didn’t get drowned out, I amped it up with aura.

  “Excellent! I’m thrilled!”

  My voice rolled across the square, making everyone raise their heads to look at me.

  At first, there was only blank confusion on their faces.

  “That’s Aney!”

  A horrible scream tore through the crowd.

  “Aney?!”

  “Aney?!”

  People couldn’t believe it and kept asking each other.

  “Yeah, it’s me!” I cheerfully confirmed their guess.

  “Aneeeeeey!”

  The terror in that chorus of voices was drowned out by panic and despair. Thousands of people immediately scattered in all directions, desperate to get as far away from me as possible. At the narrow exits of the square, a crush formed in seconds. But the swelling panic pushed those at the back to press against those ahead.

  Like at the wave of a conductor’s baton, cries of pain and the snapping of bones echoed from all sides. I could hear skulls smashing against the cobblestones, the bloodied and broken bodies trampled underfoot by terrified creatures—there was no other word for them—desperately trying to save their skins from an imagined threat.

  Indifference. That’s what I felt as I watched thousands of people killing dozens of their own for no reason. Just like that.

  I would be lying if I said my hand didn’t instinctively reach for recovery pills for those unlucky enough to still be alive, but… I stopped myself. Wasting pills on them? Maybe I was no longer the person I used to be. It was their choice and their actions—what did I have to do with it?

  I descended to the stage, under which the puppet actors had hidden, and turned it to dust. Four terrified people cowered on all fours, trembling, unable to raise their heads and look at me. I tossed a few gold coins toward them.

  “Come on now, no need to be afraid! I actually enjoyed it!”

  I looked around at the square where groans and cries of pain still lingered. No, I doubted they’d believe me with that kind of background noise.

  I stepped closer and cast a protective aura dome over us, cutting off all sounds from outside.

  “So, will you answer one question for me?”

  “Ask anything you wish, honored Aney! We’ll tell you everything, just spare us!”

  They spoke without lifting their foreheads from the cobblestones. Damn, how inconvenient it was to talk to people like this!

  “Would you happen to know who authored this wonderful… play?”

  “It’s the Church!”

  “The Church?”

  “Yes! The Church of the White Twins has been hiring theaters and troupes across the Empire to perform this play in every city of the Western Empire!”

  “Oh, so that’s how it is.”

  I turned silently and walked back toward the hotel. Honestly, I should have figured it out myself. The White Twins, those bastards! They were building their reputation at my expense!

  The pale mayor still sat frozen in the shattered chair, not daring to move. Myrta stood staring at the bodies scattered across the square. I remained silent, pretending to be lost in thought, though in truth, I simply didn’t know what to say.

  “Quite the festive spirit your city has!”

  Myrta joked.

  “He-he,” Mark chuckled as he stood up, realizing he was no longer in danger. “It happens sometimes, honored Aney! We’ll sort everything out. We’ll find the organizers and make them pay…”

  Damn it, what nonsense was he spouting? I waved my hand, signaling for the mayor to get lost.

  “Honored Aney, I hope your promise still holds…”

  “You mean, whether I’ll destroy the city? Don’t worry. I won’t even touch the White Twins’ temple here. But that’s just for this time, understood?!”

  I shot him a vicious glare to drive the point home. Bowing deeply, the mayor scurried out and closed the door behind him.

  “Sir Aney?” the girl asked.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “The Church is rallying people against you. In a few weeks, maybe a month, there won’t be any place for you on the continent…”

  “Has anything like this happened before?”

  “No. I don’t recall anything like it even in the history books.”

  Damn it, cunning bastards!

  I could fight the Church, but the whole continent? No, that was simply impossible. Yet I had no idea what to do in this situation.

  The only way to stop it would be to destroy the Church of the White Twins completely. Physically wipe them all out.

  “What are you planning to do, Sir Aney?”

  “Generally? Kill them all. But for now, we’ll rest until morning, and then quietly prepare to leave the city.”

  I returned to the window, watching as the city guards cleared the bodies and washed the blood from the cobblestones.

  The next day, Myrta and I went downstairs, where the polite administrator greeted us.

  What composure the man had—almost enviable.

  We left the hotel foyer, and I pulled out two plain gray cloaks.

  “Come on, we need to rent a room in a cheap inn near the market. The kind where small-time traders usually stay.”

  The girl nodded, donned the cloak, and fastened it with my aura-suppressing belt.

  “Hey, that’s my brother’s! Where did you get it?!”

  “He gave it to me. What, did you think I took it by force?”

  “With you… Never mind, let’s go.”

  So now even servants suspected me of robbery? Well, to be fair… they weren’t wrong.

  I suppressed my aura, and we headed to the northern part of the city, where the largest market in Ropto was located.

  Loud, bustling, reeking from every corner…

  The market looked like a slum, except the huts were replaced by mountains of goods from every part of the Empire.

  There was no real organization: clay pots were sold next to livestock, while the next stall offered spices and cartwheels.

  Vehicles themselves were sold a bit off to the side—the very reason we were here.

  I was sure if they could fit them into the stalls, they would be piled next to fabrics and seeds.

  “Did you hear about the massacre at the square yesterday?”

  “Yeah, that bastard slaughtered so many people!”

  “They say a hundred and eighteen souls!”

  “No, I heard it was a hundred and eighty!”

  “And over a hundred more died later at the healers’ guild!”

  “They say he slashed them mercilessly with a sword!”

  “Old, young—he spared no one!”

  “I’d gut that Aney bastard myself…”

  …

  The whole market buzzed, creating a new city legend.

  Soon these merchants would carry it across the Western Empire and even beyond.

  Idiots. If the God of War so much as pressed with his aura, he could turn the entire square into a bloody mess—so why would I bother chasing after each person with a sword just to stab them individually?

  But common folk aren’t known for their reasoning, and no one questioned it.

  Everyone was too busy spreading gossip to even notice Myrta and me.

  “How much for this one?”

  We stopped near a decent middle-sized gah, not brand new but in good shape, and the girl began bargaining.

  I circled around, checking the wheels and undercarriage—better to avoid nasty surprises on the road.

  “Thirteen hundred?! Auntie, have mercy! The gods above see your greed! I’ll give you a thousand!”

  Seems she knew a thing or two about bargaining.

  Given her rare stories, I guessed she had plenty of experience—the stakes at the Imperial court were always her life itself.

  She managed to haggle the gah down to a thousand.

  After signing the papers, she climbed onto the driver’s seat but had no idea what to do, so I had to sit beside her and get us moving.

  “Wait, what about the goods?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sir, we are small merchants. We need goods for trading. We don’t have enough money to buy storage rings, so we carry our goods here,” she said, pointing her finger at the cart behind us. “The best product exported to the Northern Empire is wicker furniture, so there will be no suspicion if we transport that.”

  “I understand.”

  I took the ring off my finger and put it into my pocket. After that, we spent another hour wandering the narrow market streets until we found a shop selling what we needed. After finally loading the last chairs, I climbed back onto the driver’s seat and drove to a large, cheap inn, the kind usually favored by traders arriving from the northern market.

  There, we easily rented rooms for a silver coin per night and left our cart. On the way back to the Diamond of Ropto, Myrta bought all the ready-made food she could get her hands on. She was learning fast — once had been enough. I even smiled at that.

  “I want to extend our stay here for a month,” I said to the innkeeper, handing him a pouch of gold. “No one, absolutely no one, is to disturb me during this time, unless you want this place to vanish. Understood?”

  “Yes, respected Aney. No one will trouble you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Myrta and I went up to our floor.

  “So, when do we leave, Sir Aney?”

  “Tonight, before dawn. But first, I have a few last preparations to make.”

  I pushed the bed aside and, glancing at the book Crow had left me, drew a simple protective formation on the floor, embedding a sixth-class core into it. Then I pulled out a cheap dagger from my storage and filled it with my aura. I set the bed back in place and put the dagger on top of it. Now, if anyone tried to check, they’d see only the barrier and the echo of my aura inside. It should be enough for a month.

  Of course, such a trick wouldn’t fool a God of War, but a weaker person wouldn’t notice the difference. In the darkest hour of the night, I copied the aura of the porter, which I had studied quite well during our stay. Myrta once again put on my belt, and we silently slipped out of the Diamond of Ropto through the window.

  On the way to the market, I carefully scanned the road ahead to avoid the occasional passerby, so it took us even longer than I had expected. Damn it. We climbed into our hotel room through the window, made some noise with the furniture for credibility, then went downstairs to return the key to the porter.

  “Once we leave Ropto, I’ll teach you how to drive the cart. It’s not right that you serve me and yet can’t even do that properly.”

  “Okay! But for everyone else, we’re husband and wife!” Myrta grabbed my arm and clung to it.

  “Damn it, what are you doing?”

  “We’re being watched.”

  I glanced back and saw the damned porter eyeing us curiously. Maybe we hadn’t fooled him — after all, he’d spent his life watching traders.

  “Do we even look like merchants?” I asked the girl.

  “Oh, not really, sir, not really. You have the build of a warrior. You should at least hunch over a little… But sitting on the driver’s bench, it won’t be that obvious.”

  “You’re a sly one. We’ll take turns on the driver’s seat. You during the day, me at night. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir A—”

  She bit her tongue just in time to stop herself from saying my name. We climbed up onto the cart and I drove it towards the city gates. By the time we reached them, the sky was already turning gray, and a small line of merchants, just like us, had formed at the gates. I handed my silver merchant plaque to the guard at the gate. He glanced at me, then peeked inside the cart, which was packed full of furniture.

  “And who’s she?” he asked, pointing at Myrta.

  “Officer, this is my wife.”

  “Yes, officer, my husband and I work together so we can save up faster for our own home. My dear wants a big one, but I’d be happy with even a small cozy one. Isn’t that right, darling?”

  Myrta pressed even closer to me, wrapping her arm around my neck. I slipped another silver coin into the guard’s hand to speed up his thinking.

  “Ahem… proceed, proceed…”

  He returned my silver plaque without even bothering to read the name engraved on it. Our cart slowly rolled beyond the city walls.