After the meeting came to an end, Sic led Nessa back down the stairwell and back onto the first floor where a surprising scene unfurled before them. What little furniture the room had was relocated to the edge of the room, with chairs propped on top of the tables.

  In the middle of the room were Black Grit's men, standing upright in a line formation, their bodies turned in a single direction. Jor was stationed at the front of the chest while the spirits hovered around the room, inspecting the scowling troops.

  "You are now under master's order," Salph said, hands clasped behind her back. "Whatever you were before is irrelevant. From this point onward, you serve her will. Any who fail to meet her standards shall be swiftly replaced."

  A ripple of unease passed through the men, though none dared to move. Lithero, twirling lazily in the air, chuckled. "Aw, don't look so sad! It’s not all doom and gloom. Perform well, and master will give you an even bigger reward. If not, I can always take your share. I wouldn't mind. Gemstones don't grow on trees, ya know?"

  Lithero cackled while Salph floated to the front and said, "One by one, you will come to the front and take a portion of your payment. In this chest, there is a total of a thousand and six hundred sil, and each of you will take forty. Take more than and you will find yourself short of more than just coin."

  Jor, still stationed at the chest, lifted the lid, revealing neatly stacked sil. "Step forward," he barked.

  The first man hesitated before striding up, his movements stiff. He counted carefully, scooping up his allotted forty sil before stepping back. One by one, the rest followed suit, each transaction unfolding in tense silence.

  When the last man took his share, Salph spoke again. "Good. You’ve proven you can follow simple instructions. You all seem to possess some degree of intelligence that Master Nessa can utilize."

  Uh-oh, looks like Sal is about to insult these men just after I give them a small reward. Can't have them showing any more hostility than necessary now.

  Nessa finally stepped forward, drawing all attention to her as she cleared her throat. "For now, forty sil is all you deserve until I see some results. You have witnessed first-hand that I am not lacking in any funds. Complete what I ask of you, and many more coins will line your pockets. If you're even thinking of leaving and never to return, I will have Sic search your whereabouts and drag you back here where a fitting punishment for deserting will await. Any questions?"

  No one spoke up other than the jingle of coins being dumped into pockets and the shifting of feet. They were more focused counting the sil, or perhaps pondering her words. Either way, the message seemed to sink in—Nessa had the means, both literally and figuratively, to enforce her demands.It also meant that she was the type to hold up her end of the bargain and wasn't the type to screw them over. The sil that they accepted so readily served as a reminder that they were in her debt.

  Everything was going accordingly. Now all that was left was to wait for the messengers of Scourge to arrive in the Crossroads. However, Sic mentioned they usually arrived whenever a shipment was ready—a shipment that consisted of orphans. The idea of using children to catch Scourge was a disgusting and unacceptable option, yet there were no other clear ways to guarantee Scourge would take the bait.

  Nessa inwardly frowned. She hated the idea of innocent children used to catch Scourge, but if she couldn’t offer a convincing alternative, the opportunity to strike might slip through her fingers.

  "Sic, you should be leaving now," Nessa said, turning to him.

  The man pried his eyes away from the now empty chest solemnly and nodded. "Yes... We should be preparing the shipment right about now. It has been a month since the messengers of Scourge have appeared, and they’ll be expecting everything to proceed as usual. I will bring Jor and a few men along."

  Black cane in hand, Sic strode over to his men and called out a few names among them. Jor and two others approached, still stuffing sil into pouches tied around their waist. He whispered a few things into their ears, and Nessa noted how their eyes grew wide before the two men nodded. Sic patted them on the shoulders and they all, Jor included, headed for the door. Nessa eyed them, silently praying that Sthito would forgive and understand her actions.

  ***

  With nothing better to do, Nessa had been lounging around on the top floor of the Black Grit all alone. Since she'd be wasting mana having Lithero and Salph out of the Sorcerer Plane and she was in no immediate danger, she had dismissed them for the time being.

  Her thoughts drifted to Sic and his men. By now, they were likely gathering the children, preparing them for transport. The thought of accompanying them to watch the process crossed her mind, but she dismissed it just as quickly. She had already decided—she couldn’t risk being seen as anything other than another victim, which is another reason why wearing cloaks was important.

  She leaned against a window frame, watching the streets below as the occasional passerby hurried through Naula. A orange haze of the setting sun had settled over the city, making it appear like it was shrouded in amber. The sounds of horses clopping down the road, the creaking of wheels, and the bustle of traders and street vendors had all ceased.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Naula had always been quiet throughout the day. As a child, Nessa had learned early to be cautious, to avoid the wrong alleys, and to recognize the signs of a deal going south. It was a city where silence could mean safety or impending danger, depending on the circumstances. The quiet that settled over Naula at night was a stark contrast to Valis, the royal capital, where lanterns kept the streets alive well into the late hours, and the people never seemed to sleep.

  Nessa remembered the first time she had stepped foot in Valis. The sheer noise had been overwhelming. Merchants shouting their wares, musicians playing music in the streets, noblewomen laughing behind their veiled hats—it had been dizzying. The city never stopped moving, a beast that thrived on its own chaos, and for a while, she had hated it. Naula’s silence had been suffocating, but at least she had understood it.

  A bitter smile crossed her lips. Her mother had always warned her about men like Horoh and Sic—men who ruled from the shadows. Her father, ever a realist, simply told her to survive, to keep her head down, to be smarter than the rest. Nessa had done exactly that, looking both ways before crossing an alley and watching her back. She practically had eyes on the back of her head because of her circumstances.

  In the daytime was where she spent most of her free time, playing with the other kids. In the evenings, she was forced to accompany her father wherever he went or stuck indoors with Mother doing the mundane like cooking or cleaning. Children were told repeatedly to never, under any circumstances, to leave the safety of their own home lest they witness or experience things not meant for their age.

  Beatings were common, and the Black Grit back then would go door-to-door taxing residents, extracting whatever meager earnings they could find. She had seen firsthand how quickly a kind word could turn into a demand, how a friendly visit could end in bruises and broken bones. Her father had always kept their family on the safer side of things, but she had seen the pain in his eyes every time he handed over a portion of his earnings, knowing there was no other choice.

  She remembered the nights when her mother would sit by the window, a knife clutched in her hands, staring at the door as if expecting someone to barge in. The hushed conversations between her parents, the fear that laced their voices, and the way her father would check every lock before they went to sleep.

  To be frank, up to her encounter with the criminals yesterday, it had been difficult keeping her cool after all the suffering those scum inflicted upon her parents. The harsh words and actions—and even summoning her black slime to dissolve those kidnappers—were all her pent-up rage spilling out. It felt good. Her boiling, negative emotions toward the Black Grit simply got the better of her and she lost her cool. She'd rather be upbeat and look on the bright side of things than to brood and be negative all the time. It was unbecoming of a Royal Knight—and a woman of her otherworldly charms.

  Still, throughout the boredom of being cooped like a hatchling in the nest, that feeling of oppressiveness changed in her eleventh year in this world when the blessing of Sthito unexpectedly manifested come spring time.

  A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. The door swung open, revealing Sic as he strutted in with his clacking cane and a poker-face expression.

  "It’s done," he said. "The shipment is ready. Now all that is left is to wait for the messengers of Scourge to contact us. Usually, that comes in the form of a letter at the front door. They never show themselves."

  His voice was steady, but there was something unsettling about his words. Nessa met his gaze, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But Sic was uncharacteristically stone faced.

  She exhaled slowly, nodding. "Then we wait. When it is time, I will be inside the carriage alongside the others."

  Right as she was about to leave, Sic cleared his throat. "Pardon me for asking, Royal Knight Nessa, but I have a question."

  Nessa stopped and looked over her shoulder. "You may ask. But I make no promises as to an answer."

  "Fair enough. I want to know why you seek our assistance with Scourge instead of your allies. I imagine the help of another royal knight or a few sorcerers would be of greater assistance than the Black Grit?"

  "My friends are busy with other duties at the moment," Nessa said flatly. "As for other sorcerers, they are too conspicuous. Their presence would alert Scourge before we even get close. I alone should be enough given my talents. Besides, I need subtlety, and that is something your people specialize in since you are unblessed and all that."

  "I suppose, though I doubt my men are as 'subtle' as you put it given that you were fully aware of our operations."

  "Oh, that? Let's just say I have a close friend that has keen ears for these sort of things. That and tracing a certain incident back to Naula was quite easy after a thorough background check."

  Sic's brow furrowed, and before he could ask for further clarification, Jor entered through the entranceway, a rolled up letter in hand. Without a word, he approached Sic and handed him the letter before exiting.

  Sic unrolled the parchment and scanned the contents with a scrutinizing eye. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips. "It seems the messengers of Scourge have arrived sooner than expected."

  Nessa extended a hand. He handed it over, and she studied the words carefully. The contents were short, only detailing the location, and the time; the Crossroads, today at midnight. A chill ran down her spine at how everything was moving along smoothly. What worried her, however, was the swiftness of the letter and how the messengers managed to get it here so fast.

  While mana sense wasn't active at the time, sensing the energy of another sorcerer without it was easy enough. Mana sense was simply a telescope to the world, allowing her to view more than just relying on her five senses. One could feel their presence and, with a strong enough connection, where they were at all times. To think they could slip through her detection without her noticing...

  She folded the letter and tucked it into the inner pocket of her coat. "Make sure everything is in place. If we fail, there won’t be a second chance. Take me to the carriage."

  "Understood, Royal Knight Nessa."

  As the man left, Nessa took one last glance out the window. The city of Naula lay bathed in darkness now, its streets empty, its people locked behind their doors. Nessa pulled out her locket as images of her parents flashed in her mind, smiling and waving with tears in their eyes at their daughter leaving Naula for the capital.

  Her lips touched the cool metal, a familiar warmth filling her. She held onto that warmth and let it wash over her as a sudden burst of confidence and courage bloomed. A few seconds later, she stored the locket and turned, following Sic down the steps.