Seated at the front of the carriage, I ride through the plains of the Oswald region. With gentle tugs of my hands, I lead the land-dragon tethered to my coach towards a small bridge of land jutting across a stream of green liquid. Its fumes assault my nostrils. Suppressing a gag, I slowly guide the dragon across twists and bends, careful not to slip from the narrow path into the surrounding waters. With a taut pull of the reins, I spur the beast into a gallop, charging over the final stretch, reaching the other side of the body of water; maintaining its pace, the land-dragon races across the pitch-black terrain.

It took Nettle fewer than three hours to teach me what I needed to know. With her guidance, it took a further hour to put her teachings into practice.

A distortion bracelet.

Though imperfect, the tool allows me to nullify the effects of far sight for six hours a day. The device is a temporary solution. It's not all that I hoped for, and it's entirely ineffective against the precognition of Golden Crest Investigators or any with their advanced abilities, but six hours free from the harassment of mercenaries… Well, as they say, beggars and choosers are mutually exclusive classes of people.

A blur manifests in the corner of my eye. Glancing behind me, I see the blur moving closer. I flood my body with Tension, enhancing my natural senses. Definition seeps into the blur, showing it for what it really is, a carriage. Shouts of urgency reach my trained ears. Whoever inhabits the oncoming omnibus urges its coachman to increase its speed. They're going to lose me, the passengers fret. A smile marks my lips.

It took them longer than I expected, but there's no harm done. Though patience isn't my dominant vice, I am well trained in its utility. Besides, it's less important when they arrive and more important that they arrive.

I slow my beast to a trot and then to a stop. Stepping down from my seat, I move to the right side of the carriage and sit, leaning my back on its wooden frame. Eyes rested, I listen and wait. Wheels churn the grass. Increasing its pace, the approaching coach draws nearer.

'Nero XIII, surrender willingly, and we'll grant you a quick death.'

I open my eyes. Stood beside a beast-drawn carriage, two men and one woman. Though the men's broad shoulders and bulging muscles portray strength, the rank-three aura of the black-haired woman distinguishes her as the strongest of the trio.

You'll do.

Standing to my feet, I brush the crumbs of dried mud from my backside and walk towards my victims. Stood mere metres apart, I halt my movement.

'I only need the girl. You, fine gentlemen, are free to leave.' Gruff laughter follows my words.

'Leave? Why would we leave?' The bulkier of the two men asks. 'We have you outmanned, and the price on your head is worth enough-' However his words were to end, will forever remain a mystery. In a burst of movement, I draw the sword from my hip, sprint towards my prey, and slice the man from his mouth to the back of his head.

I leap over the woman at his side, land and balance myself on the shoulder of the surviving man. Plunging the tip of my blade through his skull, I topple the bulging form of the mercenary. As the man falls, I hop off his shoulder and return to the ground below.

A growl alerts me of an incoming attack. Manipulating the Tension behind me, I form a shield at my back. A sharp ding rings out as the woman's sword bounces off my barrier. Turning around, I confront my lone, surviving foe.

She generates bullets of translucent energy and launches them towards me; disks formed of interlocking bone form to intercept the projectiles. The woman leaps back, creating distance between us. With two fingers, she taps three sections of her arm. Scarlet light shines from where her fingers touched; holding her arm forward, she generates a ball of magma. Droplets descend to the ground, scorching the grass. Sweat pours from the woman's face. Despite the distance between us, I feel the intense heat of her sealed Art.

She releases the sphere, and it hurtles towards me. I leap out of the way. The woman taps the back of her hand and points two fingers at me, sending the orb chasing after me. Resolved to waste the Arts, I turn to face the attack and generate three layers of bone-white shields. Her Art shatters the first; it melts through the second, but on the third, its energy depletes, and it disperses into nothing.

The woman redraws her sword and charges towards me. Her hands blur, but so do mine. Steel clashes with steel as I rebuff her strikes.

'I'm going to kill you!' Hopping backwards, the woman points her hand towards me. Tension rushes in front of her palm, spirals and condenses, and forms two bullets. Near point-blank range, she releases the projectiles. Her eyes spread wide as the bullets disintegrate in their impact with my quickly formed barrier.

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Her battle prowess is impressive, but I could have killed this woman many times over if I didn't need her. Even still, I'm not willing to waste any more time and Arts in this pointless duel. Overwhelming force is how I should have begun this game, an oversight, no doubt, but nobody's perfect.

Four tentacles of pulsating energy burst from my lower back. Though I didn't notice it before, the appendages have gone through a substantial change. Externally, they remain translucent, however, internally, milky-white bones forming something akin to vertebrae snake the length of each limb.

Interesting…

The woman turns to escape, but it's too late. Whipping a tentacle forward, I coil her within the Art. Grunting and shouting, the woman struggles against the crushing force of my limb, but to no avail. I have her.

Lifting the woman from her feet, I pull her towards me. Our eyes meet. She spits from her mouth, but I block the affront with the tip of a free tentacle. With the same limb, I smack the woman across the face, careful to modulate the force so that her brain doesn't splatter on the ground below.

'You have two choices-'

'Go to hell!' Continuing her futile attempts at breaking free from my hold, the woman wriggles pathetically in my grasp. Raising, once more, one of my spare limbs, I strike the woman's cheek, drawing blood from her nose.

'As I was saying, you have two choices. The first, you can probably already guess. I can kill you now. For wasting my time, I assure you, it won't be quick. I'll pulverise each of your bones and carve the skin from your flesh. The second is the one I'd prefer you consider. I need a driver, you see, and if possible, a guide. Tell me, how familiar are you with Gandel city?'

Further attempts to spit on me is followed by further strikes to the woman's cheeks. Her once delicate face loses all appeal as blood streams down her nostrils and bruises swell her face.

'Fine, death it is.' Wrapping an appendage around the woman's shin, I begin to squeeze, compressing the bone until it collapses in on itself. Blood gushes from her shattered leg. Her screams blare in the air, but I ignore them and move my tentacle further up, reaching her thigh.

'Wait! Wait! Please, stop!'

'Why?'

'I'll… I'll serve you! I know Gandel city well! I can be your guide! I can serve you! Let me serve you!' Her words, more like cries, pause the compression of her thigh bone. Loosening my hold, I allow the woman to fall to the ground.

From the green mist of my spatial ring, I withdraw a parchment along with a jar of emerald ink and a quill. Step by step, I walk towards the woman. I bend to my knees and place the contract on the ground. Having dipped the quill into the squirming liquid within the jar, I hand the pen to the woman and direct her eyes to where she is to sign. With jagged breaths, clenched teeth, and wild grunts, the woman takes hold of the page and reads its content.

'What is this? You want me to sign my life away!'

'The time for negotiations has passed.' In truth, it had never arrived. 'Sign the pledge, or should we continue where we left off?

'No! Please! I'll sign!' With shaking hands, she scrawls her name into the page. From its centre moving outwards, the parchment disintegrates. Wisps of green light pierce into my chest, and the woman's every feeling opens to me.

Falling to all fours, I grit my teeth as my will combats the will of the woman. She forces her pain and her rage into my heart. Though no flame appears, my leg bursts into fire. Sharp, burning agony engulfs my limb. Through gritted teeth and bouts of screaming, the woman forces laughter from her mouth.

'I'll admit that you're strong.' The woman shouts. 'But did you really think your will could overcome mine? You're a child! Until you've lived through the suffering I have, you could never defeat my will with your own, and If I'm going to die, I'm going to take you with me!'

A familiar chill washes over me; it seeps into my flesh, spreads through my blood and permeates my bones. The agony remains, but I can bear it; the strength of the woman's spite, rage, and hate dull. I suppress her feelings; compress them until all that remains is a core of foaming anxiety in the pit of my stomach. Sweat drips from the woman's swollen face. Sucking air through my teeth, I extinguish all embers of the foreign emotions.

'What- what are you?' The woman asks. Standing to my feet, I tower over the woman's trembling form. Looking down at her, a smile spreads on my lips.

'Your new master.'

Tears streaking down her face, the woman looks up at me before falling limp on the ground.

Shit! She's going to bleed out at this rate. I didn't take the time to lure her here just to have her die before I get any use out of her.

Crouching down, I flip the woman onto her back. Using two fingers, I tap the back of my hand and hold it over the woman's leg. Concentric circles appear on my hand, and runes begin to form within the rings. The symbols radiate a green light, and I place my hand on her shin. The shattered bones protruding from her flesh slide under her skin. As if reinflating a balloon, her leg decompresses. Her bones scrape together, and in mere moments, save for the blood on her leg, all traces of her previous trauma vanishes.

I retrieve from my ring a bucket of clean water and throw it over the woman. The water seeps through the gaps in her form-fitting, leather breastplate and drenches the stomach region of her knee-length, black dress.

Springing from her back, the woman sits. She pats her face and leg with her hands and then looks up at me.

'You healed me?'

'Stand up.' As if forced to get up, the woman stands to her feet. 'Name, age, rank, abilities?'

'My name is Olivia VI; I'm twenty-two, a true rank-three Tension Master in the first grade. Unaided, I can only cast two Arts. However, I stumbled upon a righteous heritage where I learned a number of sealed Arts.' When the last word passes Olivia's lips, she cups her hand to her mouth. 'What have you done to me?'

'Do you know the way to Gandel city?'

'I do. I was born there… What have you done to me!' Olivia yells.

'Geo VI, are you familiar with him?'

'He's a rank-three Tension Master and the leader of a hidden enclave of fugitives. Though he operates near Gandel city within the Tantial region of Area VI, his exact location isn't known to me… What's going on?

'Haven't you figured it out yet?

Your life, it belongs to me now.'