Nessa paced around the upper floor of the Black Grit, her boots clicking softly against the wooden planks. "Lithy, Sal, would it be better to let them simmer in their own fear for a while, or should I make my intentions crystal clear from the start?"

  Afloat and drifting, Lithero cast a glance towards the struggling, bound criminals. "Talk about extreme, master! These humans look to be on the verge of excreting their pants. Fear is definitely working."

  Salph, the air spirit, scrunched her nose in disgust. She had been holding it the entire time, clearly bothered by the lingering acrid smoke from the cigars that hung heavy in the air. "This stench is vile," she muttered, raising her tiny arm and summoning a flurry of wind.

  The gust swept through the room, dissipating the smoke and leaving the air clearer, though there was still the linger of the unpleasant odor. "Master, I think it is best to unveil your intentions quickly before the others downstairs catch wind of the situation."

  "That won't be a problem," Nessa said, jumping on top of the table. She kicked away a few chips and cards. "Before long, every criminal here will be under my orders. Isn't that right, Sic?"

  The thick restrains around Sic's mouth disappeared once Lithero removed them. The man took a few deep breaths and swallowed. "R-Royal Knight Nessa!" he sputtered, his voice as slick as a wet stone. "It is an honor to be graced by your presence, truly! But this... intrusion is unnecessary. I swear on Yutar's good name I have no quarrel with the crown!"

  Nessa crouched, bringing herself eye-to-eye with Sic. "Swearing on the name of a mischievous god seems kind of idiotic, no? And you say you have no quarrel with the crown? Let me ask you something, Sic: why have I been hearing whispers of your cozy arrangement with a certain shadowy benefactor named Scourge?"

  His face blanched, his attempt to maintain composure crumbling. "I-I don’t know what you mean. There is no such thing as Scourge. Perhaps you have been misled?"

  "How did you come to overthrow Horoh, then? Knowing him, it is not easy to unseat a man like Horoh. He ruled this place with an iron grip, ensuring some stability. Completely getting rid of crime all over is the same as capturing the sun in the palm of your hands. So, Horoh was left to his own devices, as killing him would sprout another upstart. And yet, here you are, Sic, sitting in his chair, and you tell me you had nothing to do with his disappearance?"

  Sic was quiet, eyes wandering elsewhere. His refusal to answer was incriminating, and his response to the name "Scourge" confirmed his familiarity with it. Even the Imperial Court knew nothing of Scourge until recently, yet this man here flinched at the very mention.

  Did he truly have no connections with Scourge, or was he too afraid to reveal the truth? Nessa’s eyes narrowed as she studied Sic’s trembling form. His silence spoke louder than any denial ever could.

  "You’re scared," Nessa said, her voice low and sharp. "Terrified, even. That much is obvious. But what I can’t decide is whether you’re afraid of me or of Scourge. Or maybe both?" She leaned in closer, her piercing gaze locking onto his. "Tell me, Sic—what’s worse? Facing me right now, or the shadow you’ve tied yourself to?"

  Sic’s jaw clenched, his throat working as if he were trying to find the words, but none came. His eyes darted nervously to the men bound alongside him, then back to Nessa.

  Lithero, perched on her shoulder, chimed in with a smirk. "He’s sweating more than a thief caught in the act, master. I bet he knows plenty but doesn’t want to be the one to break the dam."

  Salph, hovering nearby, crossed her arms. "Maybe we should help him find his courage. A breeze to jog his memory?" She flicked her fingers, sending a faint gust of air past Sic’s cheek, ruffling his hair. A small gash on the side of his head oozed fresh blood.

  "Easy, Sal," Nessa said, holding up a hand. "Let’s give him a chance to save himself before we get creative. I mean, I would hate to bring out a few other spirits; a black slime capable of melting flesh and bones or an ember wraith lighting you on fire while you’re still alive... well, those aren’t very pleasant ways to spend the evening, are they, Sic?"

  "I—I’m just a middleman. I don’t have the answers you’re looking for!"

  "Middlemen always know more than they think," Nessa said. "The trick is squeezing it out of them before they realize just how valuable their lives are."

  Lithero snickered. "I like the way you put that, master. Middlemen are like plums—you just have to press hard enough to see what juice spills out."

  Salph spun her hand in the air, conjuring another faint breeze that tousled Sic’s hair. "And if the juice is bitter? Well, we can always discard the fruit."

  "All right! All right, I’ll talk!" he croaked, eyes wild. "But you have to promise—promise you’ll protect me! If they find out I told you anything, I’m as good as dead!"

  Nessa’s lips curled into a wintry smile. "The thought of protecting a criminal makes me gag, but this is a matter important to His Majesty, so I will not kill you unless it becomes necessary. As long as you don't double-cross me, I won't be forced to bring out any more spirits."

  Sic nodded profusely. "Scourge isn’t just one person—it’s a network. They operate in the shadows, pulling strings, making deals, and eliminating anyone who gets in their way. They’ve got spies, smugglers, mercenaries... even some of the city guards are in their pocket."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "And who's at the top of Scourge?"

  "I don’t know!" Sic said quickly. "I’ve never met them! They don’t show their faces—they communicate through messengers, people who disappear as quickly as they come or through special communication tools whose mana traces are untraceable!"

  Finding clues on Scourge was already proving fruitless, so the news of them leaving no trace wasn't exactly groundbreaking. But, for them to own communication tools is indeed informative. That meant that Scourge truly possessed the resources to obtain highly advanced magical or technological artifacts, possibly ones designed specifically to evade detection. Such tools weren’t common—even within the Imperial Court’s arsenal—and their existence only confirmed how deep Scourge’s pockets ran.

  Furthermore, among them was a Conjuration Sorcerer, who, according to the children, could create invocation amulets and elemental stones. Not just any Conjuration Sorcerer had the skills to craft such objects. That level of expertise was rare, even among the most skilled Conjuration Sorcerers in the empire. Whoever they had working for them wasn’t just talented—they were exceptional, possibly operating outside the boundaries of imperial regulation.

  "What is your part in all of this?" Nessa asked. "Why is Scourge doing business with you in Naula?"

  Sic's jaw tightened at the sudden question. "I... We of the Black Grit were forced to resume our previous operations years ago—"

  Nessa stood up straight. "Resume previous operations? You mean kidnapping and selling off orphans?"

  "I... we have no choice! They gave the orders, and we had to comply, or else—"

  In one quick motion, Nessa raised her leg and lunged at Sic. The man yelped and slid his body to the side, watching as her foot struck the spot next to him with a resounding crack. She leaned forward; her face a hairbreadth away from his nose.

  "Don't give me that nonsense, you limp dick pile of shit," she growled. "Do you think I'm stupid? You happily agreed to their terms. Why else are you up here, chatting away and smoking as if you struck gold? You've been dying to overthrow Horoh and snatch your seat at the head of the Black Grit, haven’t you?"

  "Limp dick?" Lithero repeated. "What's that?"

  Salph shrugged. "If I am not mistaken, it is a type of food. Or perhaps a form of weapon."

  Sic’s face turned ashen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. He shrank back against the bindings, his eyes wide with terror. "No, I swear! I didn’t—"

  "Save it," Nessa snapped, cutting him off. "You’re no victim here, Sic. You saw an opportunity, and you took it. But instead of running a 'clean' operation, you doubled down on the filth Horoh was barely keeping in check. You sold out this city to Scourge and turned your back on every last innocent person you swore to protect under Naula’s unspoken code of survival. So don’t waste my time pretending you’re some hapless pawn."

  "They came with threats—ones I couldn’t ignore," Sic continued. "Do you know what it’s like to watch your men get dragged away into the shadows, only to return as husks? To see creatures that defy reason within your nightmares, just waiting for you to slip up?"

  "As if I care," Nessa said, retracting her foot. "From now on, you and everyone else in the Black Grit answer to me. You said you were ordered to resume operations, correct? That means sooner or later you'll have to meet up with these messengers you speak of. When and where are they supposed to contact you next?"

  "I don’t know the exact time. They don’t give schedules. They just... show up. Usually, after a shipment is ready to move. They keep it unpredictable to avoid being tracked. The deals take place east of Naula, at the front of the Crossroads. We're supposed to bring a carriage with a cage of the goods and they take it off our hands and supply us sacks of sil as a reward."

  "The Crossroads? A fitting place, I suppose. Flanked by dense trees and a good distance away from cities makes it a brilliant spot to conduct dealings."

  "I didn’t make the arrangements! It’s just how they want it. The messengers don’t like staying in one place for too long. They always move quickly."

  "Of course they do," Nessa said, crossing her arms. "They wouldn’t be Scourge’s messengers if they weren’t slippery. Also, it’s going to be your chance to prove you’re not completely useless."

  Sic’s face paled further. "What... what do you mean?"

  "I mean, you’re going to help me intercept this little exchange," Nessa said, leaning closer. "You’ll play along, like nothing’s changed. Deliver the shipment, collect the sil, and keep those messengers talking for as long as you can. Meanwhile, I’ll be watching from the shadows, gathering everything I need to unravel Scourge’s operation."

  Sic’s breath hitched, his body trembling. "But... if they even suspect something’s off, they’ll kill me!"

  "Then I suggest you don’t give them a reason to," Nessa said coolly. "Play your part, and you might just walk away from this with your life. Give them any inclination that I'm listening, and I'll make sure to summon a spirit to gouge your eyes and rip your tongue out while you're still screaming."

  Sic nodded profusely, his voice barely above a whisper. "Okay... okay. I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you say."

  "Good. We’ll prepare for the Crossroads meeting. You’ll give me every detail about how these deals work—how many messengers, how they approach, and what they expect."

  "That won't be a problem at all, Royal Knight Nessa!"

  Nessa hopped off the table and nodded toward the spirits. Lithero understood immediately and released the bindings that held everyone down. As soon as the stone was lifted, everyone took in deep breaths, rubbing their red wrists and mouths. A few seconds later, Salph released another gust that stretched across the room, touching everybody.

  "This doesn't apply only to Sic," Nessa said, eyeing the rest. "Sal here has marked every single one of you with a spell that will suck the air out of your lungs if you betray me. If you want to test your luck, be my guest. That just means one less scum roams these streets."

  The men stared at her in a mixture of fear and grudging respect, their trembling hands falling away from their wrists as they realized the gravity of the situation.

  Lithero clapped his small hands together, his mischievous grin belying the threat in his tone. "You heard the boss. Any funny business, and Salph gets to have her fun. I’d hate to see what a vacuum of air feels like, but hey, maybe one of you will be brave—or dumb—enough to find out."

  "Sic, gather every member of Black Grit to the front of the building. My words aren't just for the few of you in this room—they're for everyone under your command. I don’t care if they’re out on jobs or hiding in the shadows. Drag them back here. Now."

  Though Sic paused momentarily, Nessa's icy gaze brooked no dissent. He nodded quickly, wiping sweat from his brow. "Y-yes, Royal Knight Nessa. I’ll have them here immediately."

  "You have one hour," Nessa said, as she signaled toward the ceiling. Lithero opened up a hole while Salph conjured forth a wind that sent her soaring upward. Nessa landed lightly on the roof of the Black Grit, her cloak billowing behind her as she surveyed the dark streets of Naula below.