"Löwe! Come 'ere! Quick! Come 'ere!"

Kaiz turned and strolled towards a 'hidden' hall at the back of the orphanage. He slid past the fake wall that served as its door and shook his head.

"It's come 'here', Lucas. Are you paying attention in class?"

The brown-skinned boy pouted, “Yes! They said not to say the ‘H’!”

“That’s not w—”

“Ah!” He cut Kaiz off, "Just come!" Then he ran.

Kaiz sighed, but followed behind. The 'hidden' hall wasn't very large, if he rested his back on one wall he could still plant his palm on the other. The room it led to, however, was quite spacious.

Down a staircase and to the left, he arrived at the unfinished basement he once called home. Nothing about it had changed, the walls were still bare, the floor was still sandstone, and the ceiling was still cement. The boys had added their own personal belongings to the space, but orphans weren’t known to own a long inventory of items.

"Guys! Look who's here!"

"Doman!"

"Doman! You came!"

Lucas frowned, "Guys! He's Löwe this season!"

"Doman better past."

“Lowe no get spice.”

Kaiz chuckled as four boys tried tackling him to the ground, "You know the rules. New name every season."

The boy on his right leg bear-hugged it, "But we like Doman!"

"Well, you can pick it again in a few months." He lifted two of them and threw them over his shoulder, "But for now my name is Löwe. Understood?"

One or two of the boys responded, but most of the room just groaned. Kaiz had to be a bit stricter.

He carefully shuck off the four that clung to him and straightened his back, "Am. I. Understood?"

This time, he heard a cascade of "yes'".

He smiled, "Good. Now who's ready to spar? You better have improved since last time!"

More than two hours passed as he 'fought' several of the boys and gave them a handful of pointers. There were eleven of them in total, but only eight were willing to take a few light hits from him. The other three just practiced some forms he taught.

Lucas was by far the most enthusiastic of the bunch. Though his talent didn't quite match his energy, Kaiz could see the fighter in him emerging. Slowly. His upper body was still quite uncoordinated, but he had a sharp mind and a knack for moving his feet.

At the end of the two hours, he bid them all farewell. He intended on leaving after the hour mark, but they dragged him back each time. They only released him once a full hundred and twenty minutes had elapsed. At that point, they couldn't complain that he hadn't given them enough of his time.

Once freed, he trudged up the stairs, out the hallway, and back towards his original destination.

"Ah! Kaizer, you’re back. The boys have been talking about you nonstop."

Sister Sophia met him along the way, looking as studious as ever. She never went anywhere without at least two books tucked under her arms, usually one about history and one about engineering. Today, she had three.

Kaiz didn't recognize them, but they were all black and red, suggesting a common theme. If he didn't know her better he would have assumed she picked them for aesthetic reasons, they complimented the Sisters’ white and grey gowns quite well. However, while Sophia was known for being one of the most attractive Sisters, that was more a consequence of her parentage than any active effort on her part. She likely didn’t even notice the pairing.

Otto would claim Kaiz behaved the same.

"Apologies. It's been a really busy month."

She waved away his apology, "No, no. None of that. You're nothing but a blessing here. The fact that you make time to visit at all is enough."

Kaiz could only smile awkwardly, "It's the least I can do."

Her smile was a lot more natural, "You do so much more than that. This place is a lot better because of you all. But I won't take anymore of your time. Sister Jen is in the kitchen right now."

"Thank you!"

They separated and Kaiz power walked to the kitchen. His business wasn't necessarily urgent, but he suddenly had a feeling it would be better to complete it sooner rather than later.

Thankfully, chance favored him. A bald, elderly woman walked out of the kitchen just as he approached.

"Kaizer!" She smiled and immediately pulled him into a hug, "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you as well Sister."

Sister Jen released him from her bosom, but kept a hold of his shoulders, "Look at you, even more mature than last time."

"Really?"

"Still no mirror in that house of yours?" Her eyes dripped with judgement.

Kaiz elected to not answer, "I'm here to drop off a letter. A pair of twins were thrown out by the north gate, but they're too old for Summer's Home."

Suddenly, the Sister's dark features darken further, "How old?"

"Twelve."

"I see… untitled?"

Kaiz almost snorted, but he held it in, "They're both tanlars."

She slapped his arm, "Don't use that word. Just say untitled."

Kaiz opened his mouth, but quickly shut it. Though he no longer cared about the connotations behind the word, for most untitleds the term still stung. It meant a lot more to them than just 'untitled'.

"Apologies. We confirmed that they're both untitled."

"Better." She tapped his chest, "You shouldn't ever use that word. Anyway, bring them. We have space."

Kaiz pulled an envelope out of his pocket, "What about the letter?"

She turned around, "I already know what it says."

"I'll just leave it in your office then."

"No, come with me.” Her light had returned, “I missed you last month and something tells me you’re going to disappear again.”

Kaiz began to respond, but she cut in, “Also. Some of the girls like playing with you too, you know? Don’t neglect them."

Kaiz sighed, but followed along.

Another two hours later, at the onset of sunset, Kaiz returned to his home. More importantly, he returned to his work.

“The consistency is still off…”

Some of the greatest minds had already pondered how to bridge the gap between titleds and untitleds. Their conclusions always came back to enchantments, the only external source of both mana and spellcraft.

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“Such junk…”

It was correct in many ways. Enchantments certainly allowed the manaless to fight on equal footing against those with mana—Kaiz was the prime example—but it was no liberator.

“Feel like my eyes are going to pop out…”

Most titleds didn’t have a single enchanted item to their name. They were expensive things. The odds of a tanlar getting their hands on one were slimmer than the famished arms those hands would be attached to. No. For Kaiz, enchantments were no solution at all.

“I’ll just redraw the top...”

Runes, to anyone who knew anything about them, were an even worse answer. Unlike enchantments that had their own store of mana, runes required a separate source to function. The mana laced in their ink only served as a catalyst to activate the written spell, it wasn’t enough to power them.

“Summit’s Superior Ink, alright…”

For a titled, the separate source was their own pool. For a tanlar, they had to use winter batteries.

“That’s better…”

Getting a small battery to power a simple rune wasn’t backbreaking, but the kind of runes that were necessary to fight equally with a titled were anything but simple. They were terribly complex and mana inefficient, demanding winter batteries that cost three arms and five legs. That wouldn’t do.

“There it is! Finally.”

His plans for runes were much different, however. He had no interest in treating the symptoms; he wanted a cure.

“Configuration 342D, Replica 9, Battery 2B.” He jotted down in his notebook.

Though it had to be noted that ‘plan’ was a generous way to say ‘a vague, misty suspicion that an idea could potentially be possible.’

“Attempt 3.”

He took the stripped paper and placed it on top of a mold of a wide-chested torso. Once it was set, he brought out a small, rectangular battery, clicked the even smaller button on it, and placed it upside down in tongs suspended above his desk.

The battery was the absolute cheapest you could buy, costing a mere four silvers. The amount of mana it stored matched its size and price, minute. It would do the job just fine though.

He lowered the tongs until the battery was right above the paper, leaving just enough of a gap to not touch the rune. After quickly double checking everything was correctly placed, he brought out a second mini battery, held it to the edge of the rune and activated it.

The rune immediately got to work. A thin, but bright streak of light appeared between the elevated battery and the rune. The battery’s casing was designed to securely seal mana inside, only direct contact would typically trigger a transfer. Overcoming the hurdle of dragging the mana out was his first big milestone. It was a huge achievement too, as far as he could find the rune to do so did not exist before he invented it.

Rune 162B, he named it ‘Syphon’.

Minutes passed as Kaiz patiently observed. The replica of a particularly broad adult that his current rune rested on was largely transparent. He specifically ordered it as such, at a not-insignificant cost, to get a clear view of what his rune was doing. In this case, what it wasn't doing.

Minutes passed as he waited and observed. Nothing was occuring, a step back from his previous rune, but there had been many, many similar moments in his research and experimentation. Sometimes they were preludes to massive leaps forward. He knew to be patient, so he stayed calm and still.

So too did the rune.

More than half an hour elapsed before he admitted to himself that it was a dud. A deep sigh fell out of his being. He wasn’t foolish enough to expect quick success or anything of the sort, but the almost complete lack of progress of late was getting to him.

“Time: 34 minutes. Stage1: Success. Stage2: No effect.”

He scribbled a few extra details, but it wasn’t long before he tucked away the notebook and cleared his desk. Tomorrow was a new day, but tonight he had other responsibilities.

----------------------------------------

Kaiz vaulted out the window, knives kissing the fringes of his hair as he sailed through. Twenty-five meters of air separated him from the sandy pavement below, but only twenty from the roof across the street.

[Stairs to Salvation]

The dauntless form of gravity proved meek as miniature clouds emerged below his soles. While he hopped down to the next building, he heard the two figures behind him halt. For them, it was still mighty.

They cursed him as he descended, but he paid them little mind. The chase wasn’t over.

Before he could land, another Nightwatcher appeared. This one didn’t bother with insults. Black blades drawn, the would-be ambusher immediately slashed at Kaiz’s thighs. Uninterested in amputation, his leg rose and blocked the blades with the side his boot. Not one to hold a position for longer than necessary, he promptly leapt, pushing off newly formed clouds and propelling himself a few meters up.

Though well out of a sword’s range, hovering made him a sleeping gerbil for throwing knives. He hastily kicked off another set of clouds as two of said knives soared into the night sky. Though hasty, it was a measured act, more of a skip than a leap. He drifted laterally, the opposite direction of the Nightwatcher, and landed softly across the roof.

The maneuver didn’t deter the cloaked man one bit. He resumed his assault immediately, his short swords moving with increased ferocity. No longer floating in midair, however, Kaiz found his attack wanting.

He nimbly glided around the opening flurry. No sharp edge reached even the fringes of his person. However, even as he casually avoided each thrust, each slash, and each chop, complacency never appeared in his eyes. He carefully studied the movements, committing them all to memory.

When he was ready, he stepped forward.

First came the standard dual slash, he leaned back and watched the blades whiz by. Then he feignted and stared at the crisp left swing that cut off his fake approach. A stab with the right sword followed closely behind, but he had already shifted to the side.

Within just three moves, he created his opening.

His knee flew unimpeded, allowing it to hear the sweet crunch of an undefended chin.

[Stairs to Salvation]

The two swords sharply converged on his shadow as he stepped on a cloud and launched himself back in the air. He, of course, didn't forget to give the chin a second smack while he flipped backward.

Mid somersault, he pushed off another set of clouds and reversed his rotation back toward the Nightwatcher. His booted heel fell like a guillotine, it should have been the end, but the two black blades crossed to catch its descent.

Damn it.

Annoyingly, the substandard dual swordsman proved himself sturdy.

He still staggered some while Kaiz retreated, but there was little victory in that. Such a simple opening wouldn’t come a second time and Kaiz didn’t have the luxury to let this drag on.

Costly as it was, he leapt forward.

[Wings of Liberty]

His foot met a ribcage faster than a human could shut their eyes. If the Nightwatcher had managed to undaze himself in his final moments, all he would have heard was a deafening roar of wind as his chest caved in. His lifeless body rocketed off the roof and smacked against an adjacent building.

As his corpse fell into a nondescript alley, Kaiz didn’t celebrate. He frowned.

I’ve used too much.

It was the dead of night. Silence reigned as most of Waldaun slept. While this was often the backdrop for Kaiz’s runs, it was the most inopportune time for his current one. A normal run would grant him guards as pursuers, maybe mercenaries if it was more high-stakes. But this one, this one handed him the stupendous honor of being chased by Nightwatchers. ‘Kings of the Night’, as they styled themselves. Few liked to admit it, but they’d earned that title. If the sun didn’t light up the sky, escaping their watch was a fool’s errand. Kaiz’s errand.

He renewed his sprint across the rooftops, moving with the wind. The buildings in District 7 were largely even at three storeys. Beyond the odd exception here or there, the rest of his path to the sandstone wall surrounding Waldaun remained clear. He’d cover the distance quickly.

He was at a loss about what to do, however. He needed to take out two Nightwatchers before he reached his final destination, but he’d already sapped most of the mana in his boots. Fighting another one in their current state was a dicey prospect at best. If he could catch one by surprise he may have had a chance, but that was improbable. The final two wouldn’t conveniently separate for him.

He reached the border between District 7 and the slums slightly ahead of time, but without a plan of action, he paused. Unsure of himself, he peeked over his shoulder. In what would have been pure darkness for anyone else, save for the street lanterns, Kaiz glimpsed two bodies of white light. They rushed towards him like dustmoths to water.

A curse came to his tongue, paused as he thought through his options, then burst out.

He lunged off the roof, boosting his jump to sail up and over the wall. The guards on duty paid him no mind as he broke his fall on the other side, perks of a Snake-affiliated job. Out of the organized and well-maintained business district, he now stood in the slums of True West.

He looked past the high archs of the waterway and into the north, into North West. His goal. Beyond the somewhat neat neighborhood that touched the outer wall, an unruly maze of shacks and huts stretched out before him. He couldn’t quite see it at the moment, but sight wasn’t necessary. He knew every corner of this lawless labyrinth.

After creating some distance from the wall, he hid himself in the shadows and stayed still. They’d find him. The shadows were their domain after all, but all he needed was a moment, just a few seconds of inattentiveness.

The wind sang as he waited, a lovely tune. It sounded even better out in the forest, but there was something about the echo off of brick and stone that appealed to him. He’d have to ponder the matter another time, however. They were close.

“The bastard went this way.”

Very close.

“Which way?”

Almost there.

“Down that path.”

Just a little more.

“Get out of my way!”

Now!

[Wings of Liberty]

Just as the Nightwatcher moved to kick a homeless tanlar, Kaiz emerged from his hiding spot riding a gale. Winds gathered around him as he flew feet first at the man. It was everything he could muster from the last remnants of his boots’ mana. If he was lucky, it would be a lethal strike. Of course, he wasn’t lucky.

They both dodged at the last second. The man he aimed for dodged completely. Thankfully, the man behind him didn’t. Kaiz’s boot crashed into the edge of his shoulder with the force of a cannon. He careened into a nearby shack, crushing its admittedly shaky constitution. Kaiz felt like he landed a decent connection, but he didn’t wait around to confirm. The moment his boots touched sand, he bolted.

One and a half Nightwatchers, he’d done the best he could. He could only hope Conan had prepared enough to handle that. If he hadn’t…

Kaiz refused to ponder the ramifications just yet.

Instead, he found one of the main streets into North West and hurtled down it. It was largely barren. Unlike the many crooks and crannies one could find in the slums, the homeless stayed clear of the main streets at night.

Exhausted, weighted down, and out of mana in his boots, this marked the final leg of his run.