Seth walked out of the Champion of Chaos' headquarters with only his own Endless Pouch, but it was heavily filled with coins. After selling all the Black Hounds' bags and all their contents to Celine—but keeping only the Fine Storing Ring—he now had fifteen silver coins. Fifteen damn silver coins! It felt surreal compared to the mere twenty irons he had earned from selling most of his Gnolls' beaststones.

'Do you really think that Artificer needs that much time to figure out who the Faertis on the communication orb is?' Nightmare asked from within his Beast Holder.

'I don't know,' Seth answered, striding across the marketplace.

Before Seth had left, Toren had informed him that due to other obligations, breaking the concealment enchantment would take at least a month, since it had been placed by a Gold-Tier Wielder. But Seth wasn't really concerned about the delay at the moment—he had other matters in his mind.

Professor Reat had sent Celine the address of Aran's family, so Seth had decided to go offer his condolences before his fight with Lucius, just in case he lost his temper and accidentally killed the noble.

Weaving through the bustling marketplace, Seth moved past the colorful array of stalls and vendors at a determined pace. Just as he was about to turn down the street leading to Aran's house, a familiar voice called out.

"Hey, Seth!"

The moment he spun around, Seth found Mael with his blond ponytail, wearing a clean sand-colored jerkin neatly tucked into his trousers. Next to him stood Renwal, his usual tight clothes currently replaced by a loose, lace-up white shirt that suited him way better. Wooden splints were still strapped to his arms, yet the blacksmith sported a giant smile.

'Great, the drunkard and ponytail boy are here,' Nightmare grumbled.

'Oh, come on.'

"If it isn't the most famous commoner of Trogan!" Mael said, slapping Seth's shoulder.

"I'd say of Kastal, but fair enough," Seth answered with a smile.

Renwal gave him a quick head-to-toe, wrinkled his nose. "You look—and smell—awful."

"So do you," Seth retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Go to hell," the blacksmith grumbled as Seth and Mael shared a laugh.

"So, what brings you guys here?" Seth asked.

"Are you kidding?" Mael replied. "The only commoner to reach Trogan Academy's Spring Tournament's top sixteen in years is our goddamn friend! No way we'd miss your fight!"

Renwal nodded in agreement. "Plus, you're fighting that…" the man stopped for a moment, looking around, "... charming noble."

"I'm surprised word travelled all the way to Sunatown," Seth said. "Was it Warsis who shared the news?"

"Yes, him and a few other Wandering Merchants," Renwal answered. "And that's not the only thing they said about you."

"Yeah, they told everyone what you did," Mael added. "Killing hundreds of arcane beasts, rescuing commoners who the Faertis sold to creepy humanoid creatures—everything. They're turning you into some kind of legend, man." The youngster stopped a moment, shaking his head in disbelief. "Even the bard at our tavern last night was singing about you. The mighty Primalist. The one who would rise above nobles."

Seth's mouth twisted to the side. This whole thing was turning him into a damn political liability for every noble House. Great.

"Why aren't you happy?" Renwal asked, noticing his expression.

"I'm not sure I enjoy all that attention," Seth answered with a sigh. "And there's only one noble from House Faertis who's going to pay for everything, and that sure as hell also pisses me off."

For a moment, neither Renwal nor Mael seemed to know what to say. Then, the blond youngster rubbed his neck and muttered, "That was to be expected. Nobles always have their ass covered by their friends."

"Yeah, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"What if you win the tournament?" Mael exclaimed excitedly. "You could use that opportunity to cause an uproar and ask for justice?"

Seth shook his head. "Don't you understand that if I offend too many nobles there's a chance they get back at me through Sunatown?"

Mael and Renwal exchanged a look, then proud smiles appeared on their faces.

"Actually, you shouldn't worry about that," Mael said. "Your fight wasn't the only reason why we came here."

"We bought dozens of properties yesterday with the coins you gave to Marcus," Renwal continued. "Including a new blacksmith shop."

Seth's golden eyes widened. "So, everyone's ready to move?"

"Well, there are still a few stubborn ones, like my father," Mael answered, head tilting back in frustration, his lips pressed into a thin line. "But most are ready."

"So, go ahead and make some noise," Renwal added, giving Seth a thumb-up. "Kick that noble's ass. By the time they direct their anger toward Sunatown, the place will be completely empty."

"You won't have to say that twi—" Seth began before being interrupted by a loud and furious female's voice.

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"Hey, prick!"

Turning, Seth spotted Jenna, Devus, and Elena approaching in their academy uniforms, the noblewoman's scarlet sharply contrasting against the two others' gray. Devus wore a friendly smile, while both girls stared at Seth with piercing glares.

In the teardrop necklace, Nightmare chuckled. 'Wow, what a reunion.'

'One more word and I bring you out so they can all pet you.'

'Don't you dare.'

"Did you lose your communication orb or something?" Jenna scolded. "Elena sent you five messages in the last hour."

Seth smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, I got sidetracked."

"By those two?" Jenna asked bluntly, gesturing toward Renwal and Mael.

Elena sighed. "Jenna, your manners."

"Yeah, fine. Sorry," the Warrior said before turning to Renwal and Mael. "I'm Jenna. You are?"

Seth glanced at the blacksmith and his apprentice, only to find them staring at Elena—Mael's jaw was practically on the ground, a thread of drool close running from the corner of his mouth. As they snapped back to reality, Seth answered for them. "This is Mael and Renwal. They're friends from my town."

"I'm Devus, Seth's roommate," Devus said, moving forward to shake hands. "You can call me—wait! You're the blacksmith who got his arms shattered!"

"Yeah, that's me," Renwal replied with a chuckle, looking down at the wooden splints on each side of his arms. "So, Seth told you about me?"

"Yeah, a little bit." Devus gave the man an awkward smile, obviously unsure what to do instead of shaking the blacksmith's hand. "I'm really sorry for that."

Renwal waved it off. "No worries."

Next to Devus, Elena spoke up, "I can ask a Priest to examine them and see what he can do."

"Oh, no that's not necessary, Miss…?"

"Elena. Elena Surani."

The instant her name left her lips, both Renwal and Mael stiffened, then bowed at perfect ninety degrees. "Ou-our apologies, for speaking to you so casually, Miss Surani," the blacksmith stammered.

"And, uh… sorry for staring," Mael added.

"No need to be formal," Elena said, nodding at them. "I'm not picky about those things. If I were, I wouldn't have stepped within ten feet of your friend here."

Seth shrugged. "At least there's no bullshit with me."

"Say the man who hid his awakening for two months," Renwal retorted with a laugh. He then straightened up before pulling a small silver prism the size of two fingers from his pocket. "And thank you for the offer, Miss Surani, but Seth already took care of it."

"A Silver Healing prism!" Devus blurted out. "That thing is worth dozens of irons."

"Yeah," Renwal answered with a small smile. "Still can't believe something smaller than a mug of beer is worth that much."

Mael rolled his eyes, then face palmed. "That's seriously the only comparison you could think of?"

As the blacksmith chuckled, Jenna turned to Seth. "You paid for it?"

"Yeah," he answered. "It's part of my fault that Lucius broke his arms, so it was the least I could do."

Elena's gaze flickered briefly toward him, and something flashed in her emerald eyes before disappearing a second later—as if she had remembered she was mad at him.

Renwal's smile broadened. "And today you'll avenge me and make that pri—pretty noble…pay."

"You can call him a prick," Devus said with a laugh. "We all do."

"No, we don't," Elena retorted, shooting the Guardian a glare.

Jenna glanced at her pocket watch and chimed in. "Hey, we'd better hurry if we don't want to miss the first fight."

"Oh, that's right!" Mael exclaimed, excitement beaming in his face. "That's the Rank-26 Rogue versus the Rank-25 Warrior, right?"

"Yeah, Darrin Springer versus Arrel Vancaws," Devus said. "That's gonna be a great match."

Seth glanced at Mael. His friend had probably read the matches' schedule at their inn last night. Today would be the first time he'd see a fight between Wielders, so he was obviously excited.

"You guys can go first," Seth said. "I need to pass somewhere first. I'll catch up."

"Where?" Elena asked drily.

"To Aran's house," Seth answered. "That's the Primalist from my class who died in that Rift."

A heavy silence fell over the group while Elena, Jenna, and Devus exchanged worried glances. The nobleman opened her mouth as if to protest, but after a moment, she simply sighed and nodded. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."

As Seth and Elena made their way through the narrow, winding streets toward Aran's home, the atmosphere grew tense between them. Seth glanced sideways at Elena, meeting a cold, stern expression.

"I really don't need a babysitter," he said, breaking the silence. "Not inside the city, at least."

Elena's emerald eyes flicked briefly to him. "A bounty hunter could still attack you."

"In the city itself? That would be reckless," Seth answered, his boots clacking against the cobblestones.

"Many would give it a chance for twenty golds," she retorted.

"One hundred."

"One hundred what?"

"One hundred golds," Seth said as they took a turn and left the cobblestones for dirt ones. "That's the new bounty on my head, according to the Champions of Chaos' leader."

"Fantastic," Elena answered, closing her eyes in exasperation. "Did you give them the communication orb from the Black Hounds?"

"Yeah, but the branch's Artificer said it'll take at least a month to find out the name of the Faertis who used it," Seth said, stepping around a large puddle.

"That's not too bad. At least someone is willing to do it for free."

Seth sighed. "Sure, but in the end, only one of those bastards will pay for everything."

"They can't blame an entire noble House for a single member's actions," Elena responded.

Seth glanced at her. "Do you honestly think there's only one person involved?"

"What matters is what you can prove in the king's court," she replied, her tone shifting into lecturing one. "You can't just make your own justice."

"Funny—that's exactly what the Champions of Chaos said," Seth groaned. "That we should let the laws take its course and don't intervene for now."

"If everyone is telling you to stop being stubborn and restrain yourself from doing something stupid, maybe you should," the noble retorted.

"Maybe we should ask the prisoners who were tortured and treated like training dummies," Seth shot back, his voice rising. "Perhaps they would have also preferred me to sit back and shut my mouth."

"It's not what I'm—" Elena began before stopping abruptly the moment they rounded a street corner.

A few dozen feet ahead lay the charred remains of a house, its structure now reduced to blackened rubble between the two surrounding buildings. The acrid smell of burnt wood and scorched earth hung thick in the air, stinging Seth's nostrils as thin trails of smoke still rose from the smoldering debris.

Seth's throat tightened—he had a feeling whose house this was.

Nearby, an old man was hunched on a wooden box, staring blankly at the ground. His right arm was wrapped in a makeshift bandage, dark blood staining the piece of cloth while raw, red, scorched, flesh peeked out from under the edges. His wrinkled face was streaked with ash and tears.

"Sorry, do you know what happened here?" Seth asked, approaching him.

The old man looked up, his bloodshot eyes meeting Seth's. "It bu-burned last night," he began, his voice cracking. "I woke up to the thick smell of fire and the... the screams."

He paused, swallowing hard while struggling to stop his hands from trembling. "I ran outside and saw the flames. They were so… powerful… far too powerful to be natural. From inside the house, I could hear them… Mika, Bernard, and their young child… crying for help."

A cold shiver ran down Seth's spine, then a fierce, blazing anger raised in his chest as he kept listening.

"I—I tried everything, " the old man continued, tears welling up in his eyes. "I threw water, and kicked the door to open it, but it didn't budge—as if someone was holding it closed. In the end, I couldn't do a damn thing and those flames… burned them alive."

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the faint crackling of the embers. Seth clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms until blood dripped down onto the dirt road.

Anyone could figure out who had done this.

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