Perched atop a building, Seth kept a watchful eye on the bustling request office of Arthuri below. Nestled in the heart of the city, the small structure was teeming with citizens seeking help and Wielders offering their services. He had been observing the comings and goings for hours, the sun now dipping below the horizon and leaving the sky to the twin moons.

'This is a waste of time,' Nightmare muttered inside the teardrops' necklace. 'We should just go.'

Seth sighed, remaining hidden behind the chimney. 'The caravan doesn't leave for another two hours. Let's stay a bit long—'

He stopped midsentence as two men near the office suddenly caught his attention. One was tall and lanky, with a nervous twitch in his eye, while the other was shorter and stockier, his bald head gleaming under the setting sun rays. Their stiff posture and restless hands made them stand out. The way they scanned the crowd, the eagerness in how they approached potential clients—it felt desperate, like predators starved for prey.

'Something's off about them,' Seth said, phasing into Illusionary Emptiness.

Blending into the shadows, he snuck closer, moving silently across the rooftops. As he drew near, the murmur of their conversation reached him.

"I don't get it," the tall one hissed, leaning toward his partner. "Why is no one biting? We're offering a better price than everyone else."

The bald man rubbed his face. "Maybe we should stop only targeting Elementalists and Rogues... It'd double our chances if we also tried roping in Warriors or Guardians."

Seth's eyes widened. Targeting Elementalists and Rogues… for their low Toughness.

As the twin moons climbed higher in the sky, the crowd around the recruting office began to thin. The two men seemed to grow more anxious, trying—and failing—to recruit anyone in an increasingly frantic manner. Finally, with a shared look of frustration, they gave up and began to leave.

Slipping from shadow to shadow, Seth followed them through deserted streets, noticing how their nerves seemed to fray with each step.

"We can't go back empty-handed again."

"I damn know that, but if we're late, the boss will kill us."

"Let's say we got a fish, and tomorrow will tell him that they backed out."

Fish. The word hit Seth like a powerful punch. The same code word the Rogue had used in her messages. It couldn't be a coincidence.

Steeling himself, Seth moved carefully, his senses on high alert, dipping in and out of Illusionary Emptiness to conserve some aether. The duo led him to a run-down part of the city, where the buildings leaned on each other like tired trees and the cobblestones streets were replaced by dirt alleys. Eventually, the men stopped in front of an old warehouse—a ramshackle structure standing alone like a last sentinel in a dying neighborhood. After glancing around nervously, the two men slipped inside.

Seth took a slow, steadying breath. This was his chance. Once again becoming invisible to the naked eye, he followed them in the warehouse like a whisper in the night.

Inside, the high wooden ceiling stretched high overhead, casting deep shadows across the floor and over the stacks of large wooden crates. Half a dozen men and women stood in the middle of the place, their voices echoing through the cavernous building. Seth climbed swiftly and silently, finding a vantage point above them on the wooden beams to hear everything.

From his elevated position, he could clearly see each member of the group. A tall man with a scar on the left side of his face paced back and forth, exuding a firm authority. His hair, slicked back with grease, hung in dark strands, and his eyes, cold and calculating, swept over the others as they waited in silence.

Probably the leader, Seth thought.

A moment later, two other men entered the building and joined the group, keeping their heads low. The leader's scarred face immediately contorted with rage. "You're fucking late again!"

Both men immediately bowed, and the shorter one, whose blond hair was cropped close to his scalp, tried giving an explanation. "Sorry, boss, we were trying to catch a fish, but he—"

"But you couldn't close the damn deal, again!" The man lashed out and kicked the empty wooden box next to him, shattering the thing. "If you suck so bad at your job, at least be on damn time!"

As the two men nodded in silence, the boss' heavy brows knitted together, and he turned to the others. "Any news on Quill or Nyra yet?"

A red-haired woman with a tight braid stepped forward. "No, nothing. We checked their houses like you asked. Nothing has been touched."

"Could the Fishlords have double-crossed us and killed them?" asked the short bald man Seth had followed.

The leader shook his head, his gaze sweeping the group. "No… I'm not buying that. Something went down in that Rift. The bastard who saved that blond brat probably killed them."

"The one with golden eyes?" another muttered. "But how the hell do we find him? That dumb kid didn't even cast Identify on him."

The lanky man with a twisted grin next to the bald man leaned closer. "Golden eyes, huh? Couldn't it be that student of Trogan? The one the Seralp House and Lucius Faertis want dead?"

Seth's heart skipped a beat.

Another scoffed immediately. "No. He also has golden eyes, but that brat's Rank 17. He couldn't even survive a single day in the Fishlords Empire Rift."

"Maybe that blond brat lied," the red-haired woman cut in. "Maybe he did use Identify… and knows exactly who that fucker was."

A scarred thug across her spat on the ground, lips curling into a sneer. "You should've seen his face when I was finished with him. He spilled everything he knew. And died with absolutely no secret."

"So you're certain he didn't have a sponsor Quill and Nyra didn't know about?" the redhead pressed. "That could explain why we haven't been able to get our hands on anything lately."

The leader waved off the idea. "Definitely not. That kid was flat broke. He could barely pay our usual fee. We've probably just fished out our… little puddle here. Might be time to head to Trogan, join the others there."

Listening, Seth felt his blood boil. The branch was bigger and better organized than he'd expected. They had connections, resources, and a network that spanned through Arthuri and Trogan—and now they knew about him. About his eyes.

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The black-haired leader, though clearly frustrated, kept the group in line. "I'll run it by our investor—see if we head there or not. In the meantime, if I catch any of you slacking I'll make sure to gut you. And be on the lookout for any bastard with golden eyes."

With that, the man dismissed them, and each member slipped away into the shadows of the warehouse. Seth waited patiently for the right moment before climbing down from his perch and leaving the building.

Once outside, he spotted the leader heading toward a secluded alleyway. Seth edged closer, careful not to draw attention—until the man's head suddenly snapped around, eyes narrowing directly on him.

Seth's heart skipped a beat. He'd been seen. No time to hesitate, he immediately cast Identify, and with a swift pivot, he bolted away into a sprint.

"Someone's here!" the Black Hounds' leader shouted behind, immediately giving chase. "It's an invisible Rogue! Find him through aether sensing!"

Seth activated his Nimble Ring and his blurred form flickering in and out of visibility from the abrupt movements as he wove through the shadows. He barely looked at the man's attributes, which were still in the corner of his vision.

Ronard

 

Class: Warrior

Rank: 50 (High-Iron)

Subclass: Barbarian

 

Strength: 161

Arcane Power: 58

Toughness: 135

Well Capacity: 80

Agility: 89

Regeneration: 77

Seth's core burned hot in his chest as he raced through Arthuri's winding alleys. Mud grew slick beneath his boots while the scattered lanterns cast eerie shadows around him. He could hear the distant footsteps and shouts of Ronard and his men somewhere behind him, their voices muffled by the twists and turns of the labyrinthine streets.

Suddenly, the woman with the tightly braided red hair emerged from a dark alley, blocking Seth's path. Her eyes locked onto him, and a smirk appeared on her face.

"Gotcha, you little piece of shit," she spat, hand already moving toward the blade at her belt.

Without any hesitation, Seth lunged toward her, drawing both his daggers while channeling aether into Dark Shocking Strike and Identify. There was no time to backtrack; she had certainly sold humans to the Fishlords like the others—she didn't deserve any mercy.

Florina

 

Class: Rogue

Rank: 25 (Low-Iron)

Subclass: -

 

Strength: 68

Arcane Power: 65

Toughness: 43

Well Capacity: 40

Agility: 86

Regeneration: 39

A chill ran through Seth's Well, and almost at the same time, a puzzled look appeared on the woman's face. "A Primal—"

Before she could finish, Nightmare moved out of the necklace and pounced at the woman, black smoke dripping from his maw. Taken aback, she swung her blade in an attempt to fend off the assault, but the direwolf was already gone—in a blink, Nightmare emerged from her shadow instead, fangs moving toward her throat.

The woman spun to parry, yet the dozen Agility she had on the direwolf wasn't enough to matter. Nightmare's jaws closed down on her shoulder, his teeth sinking deep into her flesh while Shadow Bite ate away her leather jacket and skin. She screamed, struggling to free herself. Seizing the occasion, Seth bolted forward and slashed her back, sending dark lightning arcs surging across her body.

The Rogue let out a loud cry, and blue aether suddenly burst forth from her belt before starting to spread around her body. Reacting instantly, Seth poured half of his remaining aether into his other arm and plunged his second dagger hilt-deep into her upper back. At the same time, Nightmare locked his jaw onto her half-corroded arm and ripped it off.

Blood gushed out in spurts, and the woman let out a pained scream. She raised her hand in a desperate, and feeble, attempt to protect herself while Nightmare pounced at her neck and Seth buried both daggers in her torso. A final guttural sound escaped her lips as she slumped lifelessly to the ground in a growing puddle of blood.

Heart pounding, Seth stood still and stared at the gruesome scene, his arm burning from all the aether he had used. Doubt immediately surged in his mind. What if she never sold any Wielders? What if she never killed an adventu—

'Her Endless Pouch!' Nightmare urged. 'We need to move!'

Shaking his head, Seth quickly bent low to snatch the purple pouch at the woman's belt and dashed down the alley. Moving Nightmare back into the necklace, he activated Illusionary Emptiness, blending seamlessly into the shadows.

A few sharp turns later, Seth reached a dead end, where, without hesitation, he scaled the wall, gripping window ledges and uneven wooden planks before flipping onto a rooftop. From the elevated position, he spotted Ronard and his men scouring the streets. Staying low, he moved across the houses' roofs and jumped above back alleys, putting as much distance between himself and the Black Hounds as possible. Seconds later, a shout pierced the night.

They found her body, he thought, leaping from one building to another.

Gradually, the voices in the distance began to die out, so Seth descended between two tall houses into a broader street with a few late-night passersby. After taking a moment to confirm no one was following, he headed toward the caravan station.

'If you hadn't frozen up, we could've taken her Protecting Belt,' Nightmare said from within the necklace. 'And her weapon.'

Seth sighed, navigating through the streets. 'I'm just not used to killing humans.'

'Those people aren't humans. You said so yourself.'

'I know.'

Seth slowed his stride, merging seamlessly into the flow of the evening crowd. Even if Nightmare was right, Seth couldn't shake off the unease that clung to him. If he stuck to his plan to take down the Black Hounds, it would mean taking many more lives in the future.

'Just picture that blond prisoner getting stabbed by the Fishlords,' Nightmare said bluntly. 'Remember his screams every time we see these people. That should help.'

Seth infused aether into the woman's Endless Pouch to examine its content. Inside, he didn't find much, only a handful of flowers, two Escape scrolls, and… two vials of Ocean Tears. She also sold someone… Seth fumed inwardly, clenching his fists as he arrived at the caravan station. 'You were right, she did deserve to die.'

After buying his ticket, Seth boarded the carriage and settled into a seat near the door, joining the three other passengers already inside. His mind then quickly drifted to what was waiting for him in the next weeks.

With all the classwork he'd missed and all the catch-up needed, hunting would be nearly impossible. Tracking the Black Hounds in Trogan on top of that would be tough to squeeze into his schedule. But people's lives depended on it—he had no choice.

There was no way he could kill a High-Iron like Ronard in the coming month, but if the branch began losing members, their operations might crumble. Of course, there was the chance they'd disband and regroup elsewhere, but that was a risk he would have to accept.

As the caravan jolted into motion, Seth leaned back in his seat, fatigue crawling over him. The city lights receded beyond the window and something new surfaced in his mind: he had no clue who he was fighting tomorrow.

Let's hope they didn't rig the matchmaking, he thought, pulling out his communication orb. The list of people against whom he would lose was short now that he was Iron but still existed. Facing Elena or her brother, Brandon, in the selection round would likely put an end to his tournament prematurely.

The moment Seth looked down at the crystal orb, he noticed a new message from Elena and answered right away.

Elena: I have something on the Black Hounds, but you need to promise you won't do anything stupid.

Seth: Sure, what is it?

Elena: Promise first.

I just killed someone inside Arthuri, Seth thought with a sigh. I guess she'd count that as doing something stupid.

'Of course she would,' Nightmare answered, reading his thoughts through Link.

Seth rolled his eyes and wrote his answer.

Seth: I promise.

Staring at the orb, Seth waited for a response. The minutes dragged on, each one stretching endlessly as his fingers drummed against the artifact's smooth surface. Finally, the orb glowed again.

Elena: They're a mercenary group hired by some Houses. They handle the dirty work that other nobles would condemn.

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