A brown-haired man with a ponytail and strange goggles pushed up on his head had his arms crossed, gazing dubiously at the silver-haired boy in front of him.

The boy was fiddling with a strange device that went around his neck, trying to get it into a comfortable position. “Is it on properly?” Scytale asked, ready to begin his first day of work as being Sedric’s test subject. “I can’t say I’m too fond of wearing a choker. Aren’t you being quite discriminatory, telling a magical beast to wear a collar around their neck?”

Sedric narrowed his eyes. “This was made for Lucille, not you. You’re just testing it out.” He pointed to the device. “Anyway, turn it on.”

Scytale pressed the blue gemstone button in the centre of the item, making the gem glow. He coughed and tried to speak. “Attention, attention, this is Captain Scytale speaking.”

He blinked when the sound that came out of his throat wasn’t himself but a distorted voice where only the words were distinguishable. Low and monotone, most would assume the speaker was male, except the voice was so modified that it could be either a man’s or a woman’s.

Scytale spoke again. “Is this how it works? Am I supposed to sound like I have a throat infection?”

Sedric rubbed his chin as he walked around the snake, eyeing the item. “When I asked for more details the other day, Lucille said she only needed it to mask her voice, not necessarily change it, so this should be fine. Not sure why she’d need to disguise her voice though.”

“Probably to mess with whoever becomes her next enemy,” Scytale replied, turning the device off. He unclipped it at the back and put it back in Sedric’s outstretched hand. “From what I gleaned it has something to do with Ravimoux and the black market, but it’s still a bit vague for me.”

Scytale stretched his arms above his head and turned to walk up the stairs. “Alright, I’ll be off to see what the others are doing. They’re all up in her living room.” He glanced back. “Are you coming?”

Sedric paused and then moved over to his workshop, flipping down a magnification ring on his goggles. “Unlikely. I have these other items I need to craft for Lucille.”

The snake shrugged and walked away. “Suit yourself. But I’m sure everyone would enjoy it if you came along too.”

The door of the workshop closed, leaving Sedric to his own devices. He flipped the magnification glass back up and turned to look at the door. “Enjoy it if I came along… yeah right.” He went back to working on the items, fiddling with pieces of metal and engraving runes. A moment later he glanced back at the door. “But what’s so interesting that they’re all up there again today?”

He crossed his arms and frowned at the door, steadily getting more annoyed. “Dammit, I just need to work on this and not think about them. I’m sure it’s nothing anyway,” he muttered.

…

Several people in Lucy’s living room looked up when the door of the room opened to reveal an awkward Sedric, slowly peeking into the room. His leather apron, gloves and goggles were gone, showing that he intended on staying for a while.

Scytale, who was sitting on the back of one of the couches, widened his eyes. “Hey, you did come!”

“Yeah, well…” The crafter scratched the back of his head. “I just came to see what all the fuss was about. I didn’t really plan on staying…”

Scytale wasn’t fooled and smirked. “You were feeling left out.”

Sedric glared at him. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Suuuuure…” Scytale drawled, his grin getting wider.

“Do you want me here or not?” Sedric said through gritted teeth.

The snake snickered but gestured for him to come over. Sedric sighed but sat down on the couch and glanced at the others there. “What have you been doing?”

Lucille looked up from the page she was reading. “As you can see in my case, nothing much. But Annaliese and Raegan are arguing over who gets the last chocolate that the staff brought in.” She pointed over her shoulder, allowing Sedric to see them both.

“Uhuh…” he replied.

Scytale looked at Lucy. “Also, the voice item thing Sedric made seems to be functional. You must be shocked to hear that, I’m sure.”

Sedric scowled at the snake but Lucy shook her head. “Not particularly. That item was easily within his capabilities.”

A victorious cry sounded out as the blonde-haired girl behind them clenched her trophy in her hand. Her little brother clicked her tongue, looking annoyed.

Annaliese quickly stuffed it in her mouth to prevent her brother from having any chance of taking it back from her, and then smugly walked over to the couches to sit down.

“I reign supreme as queen of chocolate,” she stated proudly.

“Whatever, Your Majesty. Just shove over so I can sit,” Raegan replied, pushing her. He collapsed onto the couch next to her with a groan. “This place needs more couches.”

“Yes, well, my personal living room was not made for additional regular visitors,” Lucy remarked dryly.

Scytale snickered. “Oh yeah, definitely. Lucy, wanting to have friends over? No way.” He gestured to her. “This workaholic has subordinates or acquaintances. Although in Sedric’s case…” He held his chin as he pondered it and nodded. “Maybe a student. Just a really grumpy one.”

“What? Me? A student of her?” Sedric asked, looking disgusted.

“You must know Lucy really well, with how long you’ve been bonded for,” Annaliese said, looking curious. “I’m always surprised by the fact Lucy has a bond.”

The humanoid snake framed his face with his hands and smirked. “You don’t believe that the spoilsport over there could ever be bonded to such an intelligent, charismatic, amazing magical beast like me?”

The door of the living room opened and Vincent stuck his head in. “I would like to say that personally, I struggle to comprehend how Lucille would ever bond with someone who seems to revel in avoiding any possible opportunity to work at all times of the day,” he said with amusement.

“Let me just say that his demand avoidance characteristics were not obvious until after we bonded,” Lucy said flatly.

“Why are you even still with him?” Raegan asked, raising an eyebrow with scepticism.

Hargrave, who was still reading like he had been the day before, looked up from his book, apparently finding the topic worth listening to.

Scytale shrugged and reached for a glass of water on the table between the couches. “I deigned to grace her with my presence. Plus, she’s always had tons of money.”

Lucille rolled her eyes. “He said it himself. He follows me around for my money. And he’s good at being a distraction for enemies. He’s my one-User-fits-all cannon-fodder.”

Scytale went to give a large nod with the glass in his hand but then registered her last statement and glared at her. Lucy picked up her mug of coffee from the table, and Annaliese leaned forward to gaze intently at the two of them.

“What’s your relationship exactly?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. “You’ve been bonded for a long time, right? I don’t think that’s a normal friendship.” A suspicious look formed in her eyes. “Is there something more between you?”

Scytale spat out his sip of water and broke into a coughing fit, thumping his chest. Lucille, halfway through drinking her coffee, gained an expression that was like she had bitten into a lemon. She held up a hand to halt any more words as she swallowed her coffee, took a deep breath, and then let it out.

“I believe I’ve just heard something deeply repulsive, so excuse me if I take some time to recover,” she replied weakly.

Scytale looked behind him. “Hey, Sir Albrecht! Does becoming the Prophetess of Fate come with a large dose of insanity? Because I think your Prophetess has gone more than a little cuckoo over here.”

Annaliese glared at the snake and crossed her arms. “I was only asking a question.”

“A question only someone who was insane would ask!” the snake exclaimed incredulously.

Sedric cocked an eyebrow. “Annaliese, I have to agree with Scytale on this one. I don’t see it one little bit.”

Vincent adjusted his glasses as he peered at the girl with mild bemusement. “I must say, Miss Verdon, that I can’t understand what gave you the impression that something lay between those two.”

The blonde-haired girl sighed. “I didn’t really think that was the case. It’s just… if someone spent nearly all their life being bonded, they can’t have a normal relationship.” She frowned. “At least… I don’t think they can...”

Lucille and Scytale traded eye-contact, their eyebrows raised. Lucy turned to the girl. “Annaliese, we’ve only been bonded for seven months.”

The Prophetess hesitated. “What? But…”

“Yeah, we’ve only been bonded since Lucy became a User in July,” Scytale stressed.

Annaliese blinked, confused. She went to open her mouth to speak again…

…and then Raegan slapped his hand over her mouth instead. “Just shut up and stop being difficult for them, alright?” he said, looking mildly irritated. “Drop the subject.”

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Vincent coughed, likely to move the topic along and prevent Sedric, Hargrave, and Jasten Albrecht from dwelling on the Prophetess’s words too much. He gestured to Scytale. “I haven’t heard the tale of how you two met. I believe that would be worth discussing.”

“Oh, I heard a bit about that from him, but not the whole thing,” Sedric said with a nod.

Scytale smirked and spread his arms. “Well then, it seems I simply must reveal my past to you all. Listen closely, my friends, about the journey of the youngest grandson of the Truth-Seizing Serpent Matriarch and his grand quest to leave the confines of his enclave…”

…

“Bye Lucy!”

Lucy gave the blonde-haired girl a weary smile as she placed her hands on her hips, watching the trio leave the Commission once more. Beside her was Vincent, Scytale, Sedric and Hargrave as well, who ended up being dragged by the Prophetess to join in on the farewell.

Annaliese came up to Lucy and held out her arms. Lucy stared at her and took a step back. “No, I’m not-” She groaned as the girl hugged her, clearly not caring about her personal feelings.

Annaliese gave the slightly surprised but smiling Scytale a hug too, and then stopped in front of Sedric. He narrowed her eyes and she narrowed her eyes back. Then she turned away and ignored him, walking over to Hargrave.

The Prophetess frowned slightly. “I’d give you a hug but it would be awkward with your height.”

Hargrave, clearly feeling extremely awkward and not knowing what to say, just stayed frozen on the spot. “I… please don’t.”

The blonde-haired girl beamed, and after waving to Vincent and saying goodbye to him, she walked over to her brother and Sir Albrecht.

Lucille smirked and waved at the Paladin. “I suppose we’ll be seeing each other again in April too.”

The blond-haired man sighed, pinching his nose bridge. Raegan rolled his eyes and turned around. “Let’s just get going already, Anna. If you stay then you’ll never leave.”

With one last goodbye to them all, she walked over to Sir Albrecht and Raegan and left. The other five were left in the silence.

“…they’ll come here every month, huh,” Sedric said.

Hargrave ran a hand down his face. “Please no.”

Vincent shook his head wryly, and the five of them returned to the lift that would take them to the fortieth floor of the Aurelian Commission’s Headquarters.

…

“Will you be long?”

“Shouldn’t be,” she replied to her aide, adjusting her gloves. She was wearing her violet suit jacket, cane, the full ensemble, all ready for her meeting with Count Ravimoux. Her trip to another plane's black market auction after visiting the Demon Emperor would occur a few days later, but she needed to arrange something with the black market first.

With her cane in hand, Lucille gave Vincent a wave and turned to leave. “If I’m not back before evening, send a messenger to find out what happened. Other than that, I’ll see you later.”

He nodded as she left the Commission, heading towards her carriage. Once in, she calmly sat on one of the benches and waited for when she would arrive at the Black Lily Casino of Ravimoux.

The carriage soon pulled to a stop, allowing her to step out. A servant waited near the door and bowed when she came close, ready to guide her to the Count. Following him up the stairs at the end of the busy main hall, she was led to the private VIP lounge of the Count.

Standing by a window of dark tinted glass was the tall man with slicked-back black hair, his arms crossed as he looked out the window. When he heard her come in he glanced at her with his dark-green eyes, looking solemn for a brief moment. Then he smiled and nodded to the servant. “You may go.”

Now alone with Count Ravimoux, that strangely serious look quickly crossed his face again before he dipped his head to Lucille. “We haven’t met since the banquet, Miss Goldcroft.” He smirked. “Or perhaps I should say… Count Goldcroft.”

“Titles mean nothing if they don’t grant benefits,” she replied with a smile. She nodded back. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Count Ravimoux.”

“…yes, the same to you too.” He regarded her silently for a moment and then gestured to her with one hand. “Now, I understand that asking to meet with you was unexpected and sudden, but I hope you’ll excuse my abrupt request. I believe it’s time for us to have a certain discussion, however.”

Lucille tilted her head curiously as he stepped away from the windowsill. Then he pulled back the sleeve of his right arm, revealing the thick, coiling black tattoo she had seen when they had met for the first time.

Count Ravimoux held up his arm, allowing her to see that the densely packed dark-element runic script was shifting and changing. A malevolent aura emanated from it.

“This must be a strange question to begin with, but I’m curious…” Count Ravimoux smiled as he gazed at her. “Do you know what this is?”

Lucy blinked, watching the runes alter themselves again and again. After thinking, she inserted mana into her right eye, revealing the true form of the spell engraved into his flesh.

Shaped like a howling wolf head attached to his arm, a cloud of hostile black runes shifted and morphed around the Count’s arm, screaming with wrath and fury. Lucy smiled back. “I have yet to see one of those in person, considering how rare they are, but Count Ravimoux… are you perhaps afflicted by a sentient curse?”

He chuckled, flexing his arm as he watched it. “You’re well educated. Indeed, this is a sentient curse. A volatile, near-uncontrollable force of violent emotions and the dark element forced into something reminiscent of pseudo-intelligence.” His smile became dark. “There is a fascinating story behind how I obtained it. Do you wish to listen?”

She nodded, following him as he walked back over to the window. Count Ravimoux pulled his sleeve back down and looked at the city below.

“You must be familiar with the tale that I killed all my siblings to ascend to Count,” he began. He glanced at her. “That’s correct, and I won’t pretend I wasn’t at fault. But I’d like you to know that it was a bloody succession battle. If I didn’t kill them, I would be killed instead. Because the man in control, my father, desired there to be only one victor.”

He watched his hand as the curse curled around his fingers. “So I killed, and killed, and killed. The first time I killed a sibling I was only twelve. They were prepared to strangle me in my sleep, so I stabbed them. Nine years ago, I killed my last sibling.” He turned around and smirked as he spread his hands. “With that last bloody task complete, I decided I no longer cared about the succession. I resolved myself to kill my father, whether that would bar me from my inheritance or not. And as I stabbed my blade into his heart, do you know what I saw?”

Count Ravimoux narrowed his eyes at Lucy. “A wide smile. My father looked the happiest he had ever been, and he laughed, stating that his dream had finally been achieved. I discovered what he meant only a few seconds later.” He held up his cursed hand. “This curse, branded onto my body. A bloodline Constitution passed down through the Ravimoux lineage, but one that had lost strength. And to renew its strength…” He shrugged. “I needed to kill every direct blood-related family member. So, I had never escaped my father’s control over me even after his death. I still played right into his hand.”

“I see,” Lucille mused, observing the curse on his arm. She gestured to him. “But Count Ravimoux, I can’t help but wonder why exactly you’ve chosen to tell me this today. It feels very abrupt, as you stated earlier.”

“Well, you see, Count Goldcroft…” A strange smile formed on his face as he stretched out his arm as if to show her again. “For the last nine years, this has been my weapon. And I have yet to lose a fight with it.”

And then the howling wolfen curse enlarged and shot towards her.

Lucy’s eyes widened and she dived to the side, dodging the attack. Crashing into the wall, the wolf snarled and turned to face her. Lucille unsheathed Ouroboros but didn’t bother to attack the curse, knowing that the blade wouldn’t affect the mass of energy.

Switching the elemental mana around her to light, she quickly cast a weak curse-removal spell, but the curse only growled and shattered it as it flew past. She changed her mana to wind mana and charged at Count Ravimoux with Ouroboros in her hand. He calmly withdrew a large knife from within his coat and blocked her attack.

But what Lucy wanted to do wasn’t attack him with her dagger. Count Ravimoux’s eyes widened and he dropped to the ground, wheezing when faced with her soul pressure.

The air rippled like water as she slowly walked forward, the force pushing down on the Count multiplying each second. Lucille smiled widely and crouched as the Count looked up, struggling to breathe. She placed her dagger edge under his chin.

“Regulus Fardevrio Ravimoux,” she stated casually, still smiling. “What exactly did you just attempt?”

Regulus Ravimoux gained a bitter smirk. “So, it was always impossible for me to win against your soul power. But… I knew what I saw wasn’t wrong.” His expression went cold. “Lucille Goldcroft, what kind of mass murderer of the past were you, to be able to hide your killing intent so well? How many thousands have you slaughtered?”

She tilted her head, watching him with interest. “Mass murderer and killing intent… it appears you’ve had some hypotheses about me for a while now, but to only discuss it now and in such a violent fashion…” She paused, and then her lips parted in a wide grin. “Ah. This is about the Wordless Observers, isn’t it?”

The dark-haired man shuddered. “An organisation filled with ancient creatures, many from the Mystical Realm’s distant past. Each member of the Ninety-Nine has tales told about them in this realm, as they were a core part of the realm’s history epochs ago.” He fixed his dark green eyes on her, his expression solemn. “Yet you, a single individual, arranged a meeting with them and even succeeded in negotiating for their aid.” He glanced down at his hand. “The other Counties wouldn’t know or even understand, but Ravimoux has strong connections to the House of Wordless Observers.”

Regulus Ravimoux looked back up at her. “Lucille Goldcroft, I want to know who you are and what you plan for the Aurelian Commission.”

Lucy blinked. “Oh… you believe I’m one of them.” She covered her mouth and chuckled, finding the situation amusing. “I can see how you arrived at that conclusion. Someone with a soul age older than her body, a distinct lack of detectable killing intent suggesting a past of many killings, and someone who can arrange a meeting with Vessel of the Court of Ninety-Nine.”

Lucille grinned and pointed to her dagger, still under his chin. “Count Ravimoux, I’m going to remove this. You understand what will happen if you make a wrong move, right?”

“It’s said that attempting the same thing more than once while expecting a different result is a sign of insanity, and I don’t think I’m insane yet,” he said, almost sounding amused but still unsure.

“Good.” Lucy took away the dagger and stood up.

Count Ravimoux put a hand to his throat, rubbing it with a strange expression. “Do you mean to say you are not a party affiliated with the House of Wordless Observers?”

Lucy shook her head with a smile. “I’m not. I was not alive during the time of even a single one of them before they became undead. I was born well and truly within the modern age of the Empire.”

“I see…” he mused, watching her closely. He narrowed his eyes. “And the killing intent?”

“That… well, it’s difficult to explain.” Lucille held her chin, thinking, before giving him a shrug. “You could say it’s one of my few… defects. I am physically incapable of emitting, gaining, or sensing killing intent. Of course, as a mage in the past, that never affected me but…” She gestured to her daggers. “As you can see, my inability to emit or detect killing intent will now be more clear to others.”

The dark-haired Count held his hands behind his back as he began to pace. “…and the House?”

“I was scared out of my wits when I met them,” she stated flatly. “I’m good at masking my own emotions, but not even I can remain fully calm in front of existences who each have histories of destroying multiple planes. I only had limited knowledge of how to contact them, and I planned to gain their interest somehow.” She shook her head. “I doubt I would’ve been in danger if it failed, but they would’ve kept a closer eye on me.”

He contemplated her words with a hand on his chin, looking pensive. Then he slowly nodded. “I will trust your words for now, Count Goldcroft.”

Lucy smirked and placed a hand on her hip. “Could you enlighten me as to what you were going to do if you found out I was connected to the House?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I was going to determine whether I should spend all my County’s resources supporting you, or whether I should jump ship before the Commission collapses from being the scapegoat for whatever nefarious plan you might’ve had.”

Lucille spread her hands. “I would like to say not to worry that the Commission will collapse. I intend on letting it continue for as long as it possibly can. It’s too useful.”

“Useful… hm. Well.” Count Ravimoux placed a hand on his chest and bowed. “Please forgive my behaviour towards you today, Count Goldcroft.”

She grinned. “But are you sorry?”

He smirked. “No. I don’t regret it, because it needed to be done. But please indulge me in my formalities.”

She chuckled and nodded. “I forgive you. But please don’t try this on me again. I’d prefer it if we just had a discussion.”

Count Ravimoux held out his hand for her to shake. “Then I’ll return to my duties and sort out the matter of the Ancient Dungeon. And I would never find fault in you successfully negotiating a deal with an organisation more powerful than Ravimoux. Please deal with the internal affairs however you need, but for now, my subordinates will ensure nothing goes wrong as you enter the black market.”

She shook the hand. “Thank you. It won’t be a long trip. Take care until we next see each other, Count Ravimoux.”

With a final goodbye, he left the VIP room, and she did as well. As she walked down a small staircase, following one of the Count’s subordinates, she considered the man’s misunderstanding.

A member of the House of Wordless Observers… well, I suppose it’s not the strangest association someone has made about me.

…

The Ravimoux subordinate, wearing the black mask with a snarling wolf design, passed her a cloak and a full-face mask. “Please put these on, and never take them off while within the pocket dimension.”

She nodded, doing as he asked. It was strange to be wearing two masks, but she would barely be an hour within the dimension, so she ignored it.

Two other staff wearing full black outfits walked over to a wall to pull apart the black silk curtain, hiding an ornate silver doorway from view. The door was open, revealing a kaleidoscopic view of pulsating violet mana, forming a circular portal into a void of pitch-black darkness. Following the subordinate’s lead, she stepped foot into the portal, feeling the intense vertigo that always followed spatial magic.

When she appeared on the other side of a doorway of the same design, what was before her was a sprawling marketplace, full of loud people and haphazard stalls. The permanent buildings that lined the marketplace rows were exquisite and sold expensive products and services.

Some rough-looking mercenaries or other groups didn’t bother to use the cloaks and masks, likely because they were proud of their strength and believed they had nothing to hide, but at least two-thirds of the people there were using disguises of some sort. In fact, quite a few wore disguises in the fashion of a masquerade ball, a way of showcasing their riches and status while hiding their identities. The sky above was pitch black, not a star in sight.

Lucille ignored the vendors hawking their wares, only one location in mind. With the subordinate of Ravimoux still following, she retrieved the voice-disguising item that Sedric had made from inside her dimensional bag and put it on. Then she walked towards one of the largest multi-story buildings within the dimension.

Made entirely of black brick, the building didn’t even have a sign to indicate what it was for. It wasn’t a shopfront, made clear by the lack of windows on the bottom story, but many people walked in and out. She headed inside, her boots stepping onto the rich red velvet carpet, and she walked up to a desk of dark lacquered wood.

The woman behind the desk, dressed in a revealing black dress and black domino mask, smiled. “What service would you like us to provide today? Do you wish to submit a job, or perhaps… join us?”

“I want to create an identity,” Lucy replied, her voice distorted and monotone.

The sound of the disguised voice only seemed to surprise the woman for a brief second, and then she smiled wider. “I see. So the Black Night will have another member today. I hope we can provide what you seek.” She took out a small silver amulet and bowed, passing it to Lucy. “Please go down the right corridor, where someone will meet with you.”

Without a word, Lucille turned away and walked down the extravagant hallway, artifacts, and items on display. There was only one door and it was at the end of the hallway, so Lucy opened it and took a seat on one of the scarlet lounges inside.

Five minutes later, a man wearing a white half-mask and black suit walked in, bowing to her. “Welcome to the Black Night. The gathering point for mercenaries, assassins, thieves, and all who wish to have a task completed, and wish to complete a task. I have been informed that you wish to join us.”

“That is correct. I came here to arrange an identity,” Lucille replied.

The man showed no sign of her voice surprising him and just nodded. “If you already know about identities, then I presume you’re familiar with our process for taking on commissions. Then I will cut to the chase.” He took out a sheet of paper and a black feather pen, then placed it on the table between the couches. “All you need to do is sign this with your ‘Identity’ name and provide a class type, and the contract will come into effect. Any time you don the mantle of your identity, you will be bound by the contract, but without the mantle, you are free, excluding the secrecy clauses of the commission you took.”

She picked up the paper and pen, scanning the contract to ensure it didn’t have any caveats. Then she swiftly wrote her ‘Identity’ name down, as well as her fake class type. She stood up and passed the contract back to him.

The man smiled and bowed again more deeply this time. “You are now a member of the Black Night Union. You may arrange a disguise with our boutiques, or register a disguise you have already with the Union.”

“Get someone to take me to the boutique,” Lucille stated curtly, already knowing what she planned to do.

“I will warn you that our services are costly,” the man said with a smirk.

“And I can afford it.”

He chuckled and gestured to the door with a hand. “I will do as you asked. The Black Night looks forward to seeing your capabilities.”

With that, Lucille left, leaving the man alone in the room.

He picked up the contract, reading the details she put down. “A dark magician? How rare… and…”

Written above the line intended for Lucy’s identity name was ‘Jinx’.