The slums of Galaza were a labyrinth of narrow alleyways, filth-covered streets, and the scent of desperation hanging heavy in the air. The kind of place where hope came to die, swallowed whole by the merciless reality of poverty.

  Evelyne Thorn walked through it without hesitation.

  Alaric, however, was another story.

  He stumbled slightly, narrowly avoiding stepping in something that he was fairly certain used to be alive. “You know,” he muttered, pulling his hood lower, “it seems like you are quite familiar with the slums of Galaza it's as if you've been here. Mind telling me what we are and where we are going?”

  Evelyne smirked but didn’t reply.

  Because she was focused.

  This wasn’t just some random walk through the slums. No—Evelyne knew exactly what she was looking for.

  A hidden world. A place where the rules of nobility didn’t apply. Where secrets flowed like cheap ale and blood was spilled as easily as water.

  An underground fight club.

  Evelyne knew that was the quickest way to get information in her world, and she was that an underground fight club will be her here as well, a world packed with information.

  But here is the kicker, she didn't know the rules here. So she needed someone that she could use as a way to get in. here comes the prince, it was the reason she needed him to come. Also, these things almost always ends up in fights, and who better to use as a shield of muscle that fights? That's right, the prince.

  And Alaric?

  He had no idea what they were walking into.

  Evelyne feeling frustration rolling off Alaric says, “we need information, and the only place I think of to get information is an underground fighting club”

  As they weave their way through the slums, not going to any particular direction.

  "Explain to me why we’re doing this again?"

  Alaric’s voice was half-curious, half-frustrated as they walked through the slums. He had followed Evelyne this far, but he was starting to wonder if she actually had a plan—or if she was just making things up as she went.

  “Simple,” Evelyne said, not slowing her pace. “If there’s a black market for information, it thrives in places where people don’t ask questions.”

  Alaric arched an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure that includes an underground fight club?”

  Evelyne’s smile was knowing.

  “Experience.”

  Alaric narrowed his eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

  She sighed, finally glancing at him. “Think about it, your highness. In places like this, people survive on power. Strength means status. Money means control. And an underground fight club? It’s the perfect mix of both.”

  Alaric frowned, still unconvinced. “But how do you even know it exists?”

  Evelyne chuckled. “I don’t. But I know people. And people like this? They don’t go long without someplace to vent their aggression.”

  She stopped suddenly, turning to him fully.

  “Besides,” she added, “if there wasn’t a fight club already… I’d be shocked.”

  Of course, knowing something existed and finding it were two different things entirely.

  The Pit wasn’t advertised. You couldn’t simply walk up to someone and ask where it was.

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  But Evelyne had her ways.

  She had spent the past hour subtly gathering information—a few coins here, a few casual conversations there. Watching people. Noting who disappeared into dark alleys and who exchanged too many whispers.

  Eventually, she had found the right people.

  A group of tough-looking men, their knuckles bruised, their clothes slightly torn. Fighters.

  More importantly, gamblers.

  And gamblers always led to opportunities.

  Evelyne didn’t approach them directly. That would have been too suspicious. Instead, she let Alaric do it.

  “You want me to… what?” he asked, blinking.

  “Get their attention.”

  Alaric crossed his arms. “And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

  Evelyne smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe act like the insufferable noble brat you are?”

  Alaric scowled. “I don’t think I like this plan.”

  But it was too late. Evelyne had already shoved him forward.

  It didn’t take long for Alaric to start trouble.

  Because, as Evelyne had suspected, he wasn’t great at blending in.

  “Alright, listen up!” he had declared, far too loudly. “I heard there’s supposed to be a place around here where men actually know how to fight.”

  Silence.

  A few of the rougher men turned toward him, eyes narrowing.

  One of them, a broad-shouldered brute with a thick beard, snorted. “And what’s a little noble boy like you gonna do about it?”

  Alaric smirked. “I don’t know. Maybe knock a few of you down?”

  The reaction was immediate.

  Laughter. Mocking and cruel.

  But laughter meant interest. And interest meant opportunity.

  It wasn’t long before one of the men stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

  “You talk too much, boy. Maybe we ought to shut you up.”

  Alaric, to his credit, didn’t back down.

  “Then shut me up.”

  One well-placed insult and three thrown punches later, they had their invitation.

  Alaric had barely dodged the first swing, but that was all it took. The men had decided they liked him—whether because they thought he was funny, stupid, or actually decent at dodging was unclear.

  Either way, they led him and Evelyne to The Pit.

  Down dark alleys, past hidden doors, into the underbelly of Galaza.

  By the time they reached the underground cavern, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

  Evelyne smiled.

  They had arrived.

  Of course, just getting in wasn’t enough.

  They had to prove themselves.

  And what better way to do that than by throwing Alaric into a fight?

  “You planned this,” Alaric muttered as he pulled off his coat, stepping into the ring.

  “I would never,” Evelyne said innocently.

  Alaric didn’t believe her.

  But it was too late to argue.

  The Fight – Present

  Blood dripped from Alaric’s brow as Brann the Butcher closed in.

  Alaric breathed heavily, leaning against the ropes, rethinking all his life choices.

  His opponent was a mountain of muscle, grinning like a man who had already won.

  And honestly?

  Alaric was starting to think he had.

  But then, something clicked.

  Evelyne’s words from earlier rang in his head.

  "Strength means status. Money means control. Power is everything."

  And right now?

  Alaric had nothing but his fists.

  So he used them.

  Fast.

  A dodge. A counter. A punch to the ribs.

  Brann staggered.

  Alaric didn’t stop.

  A second punch. An uppercut.

  And then—

  Boom.

  Brann hit the ground.

  And Alaric?

  Alaric stood victorious.

  The Information They Needed

  After the fight, they got what they came for.

  A meeting with Vance, one of the Pit’s overseers.

  A few well-placed questions. A pouch of gold.

  And then, the truth.

  Something dark was happening at the docks.

  Children were disappearing.

  And someone was paying for it.

  Evelyne’s expression hardened.

  They had their next destination.

  And whoever was behind this?

  They had no idea what was coming for them.

  To Be Continued…