This is somewhat nostalgic, the armadil shield said.

“Walking through copyette ruins?” Dallion’s opinion differed. “Hardly.”

You patched up things with Eury here, I remember.

The comment made Dallion slow his pace. That was indeed true. The first time their relationship had been on the rocks, searching the ruins had helped patch things up. It also helped that the entire city was under threat of destruction.

“There’s nothing to patch up,” he said adamantly.

Right. It’s the world that’s keeping you apart.

Reaching the staircase to the city above, Dallion hastened his pace. Half a dozen cleric guards stood at the higher levels, making sure no one without permission went up or down. Aware of the mage’s authority, they quickly stepped back, letting him pass. Some of them mumbled the obligatory “initiate”—a title Dallion cared little about.

A second half dozen were placed in the arena corridor, just beyond the stairwell. Feeling in a good mood after his magic level up, Dallion was about to let them know that he was done, when he spotted something that made him stop. At the end of the corridor, surrounded by his ever-present fury bodyguards, stood the general.

Damn it! Dallion said to himself. He had hoped that he’d manage to leave the city without having to talk to the snobbish snake. If there was someone he wanted to avoid at all costs, that was it.

“What a pleasant surprise to find you here, Dal,” the general said with his superior smile. Dallion’s rank in society might have increased since the last time the two had spoken, but it didn’t matter. He still had a debt to pay, and if there was one thing the general was good at, it was collecting. “Or should I say mage Dallion?”

“Nice to see you too, General.” Dallion remained calm. “I was considering seeing you,” he lied.

For a moment, he considered whether to blow him off completely. Being a mage, he had the authority to do so. Sadly, in the short turn, that would create more trouble than it was worth.

“Delightful. I’d invite you to my usual room, but it’s being redecorated.” The general tapped his chin with a finger. “I decided to go with something a lot more imperial in mind.”

“I see.”

“On the other hand, the arena field is empty right now. Maybe we could have a brief talk there?”

It was made to look like an amicable invitation, but there wasn’t a person in the corridor who couldn’t tell it was a threat.

The countess was moved out of the city, and yet this squirmy toad remains behind? Dallion grumbled internally. Worse than a cockroach.

Leaving his furies behind, the general went along the halls and corridors to the arena field. Despite it and the stands being meticulously well kept, a sense of emptiness emanated from everywhere. There were times when it was filled with dozens of challengers and enough crowds to fill a medium-sized town. Dallion had seen it from both sides of the fence: he had taken part in the tournament as well as observed it from afar.

“Feels strange, doesn’t it?” The general looked around. “If there was one thing about the countess that everyone will miss, it’s the Nerosal Festival. That was an event to remember. Even the northern provinces were envious, even if they’d never admit it. Tell me, is the Academy still holding its tournament?”

“No.”

“Ah, a shame. I was told that they, too, were rather magnificent. I’ve seen echo recreations, of course, but it could never beat the real thing.”

Dallion remained silent, patiently waiting.

“In a way, you can say that everything started here,” the general continued. “If a member of the imperial family hadn’t died that day, none of the following calamities would have taken place.”

“Doubtful.” Dallion tried his best not to smirk. “Another excuse would have turned up.”

“Oh, that’s definitely true. Given the toys Adzorg had been playing with, it was inevitable that something would follow. Who knows, if he had been just a bit luckier, the city might have been destroyed well before the Star had the chance to drag it into the wilderness. Makes you think, doesn’t it?”

“What do you want?” Dallion pressed. “I don’t have time for your usual performance.”

“My, my.” The general’s smile widened. “I guess it’s true that magic makes one arrogant. But you’re right. Both of us are busy people, so I’ll get straight to the point.” He paused for a few moments. “I think I can help you.”

Using that line already? Each time the snob had used it, Dallion had ended up worse off.

“Everyone knows you’re hunting Adzorg.”

“Not hunting,” Dallion corrected. “And I expect you to know where he is?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. The man has managed to elude the Academy and the Order’s best. There’s no way I could find him. However, I can help you find the thing he seeks.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Sounds too good to be true.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, even former archmages.” The general’s tone shifted. “In this case, the mistake was made years ago. The old man had grown impatient and came to me asking for a specific item. It was believed to be difficult to find and impossible to get. In fact, I was planning to use you to find it for me. It was quite unfortunate that some of my other associates failed to do their part.”

“Let me guess—they ran off with the item in question.”

“Didn’t even find it. Needless to say that our business relations came to an end. Anyway, the important thing is that Adzorg never got the piece.”

“And you know where it is.” Dallion crossed his hands. “What makes you sure that he hasn’t found it by now?”

“Nothing.”

The response made Dallion arch an eyebrow.

“I’ve narrowed down its location, but there’s no guarantee that he hasn’t found it. The reason I’m assuming he hasn’t is because the world is still here.”

“So, you have nothing to offer?”

“You seem to be confused, mage. It’s you who owe me. The debt you have is guaranteed by your Moon vow. I’ve been generous enough leaving you to run around, but even my patience has its limit.”

Dallion would hardly call what he’d been doing “running around.” Unfortunately, he was the one with the debt.

Confident he had made his point, the general took out a small scroll from beneath his shirt and handed it to Dallion. Unrolling it revealed the picture of a very peculiar and well-crafted gear wheel. More precisely, it was a stack of gear wheels arranged like a cone.

“The item is said to be the size of a large shield,” the general said. “It’s made of a combination of sea iron, sun gold, and moon platinum. The materials alone will make every hunter want to have it. According to Adzorg, it’s hidden in a large clay or stone statue. Find it first and you’ll find your ex-mage.”

“Thanks,” Dallion grumbled.

“And just to be sure there are no misunderstandings, I want the item.”

“You’re thinking of taking on the Order? Now I’m impressed.”

“Don’t act stupid, it doesn’t become you. The item is useless on its own. Owning a piece of something that could enslave all humanity, though… Now, that’s priceless. Bring me my prize and your debt is paid.” The man turned around. “What you do with the old man isn’t my business.”

Dallion folded the scroll and added it to the pile of things he was carrying. This was exactly the sort of “help” he had expected. The only positive thing was that he could be fairly sure that Adzorg had at least one piece missing.

“Oh, one last thing,” the general said over his shoulder. “Some of my associates were convinced that the statue is located in the dwarf kingdom of Alor, or at least it had been before the poison plague broke out.”

The kingdom of Alor. From what Dallion could remember, that was a small kingdom relatively close to the empire’s northwest province. The issue was that it was also close to the Azure federation.

“I wish you the best of luck.” The snob waved.

Mentally Dallion clenched his fists. A single spell would be enough to reduce the general to cinders. And yet the Moon vow wouldn’t allow it.

I told you to avoid the arena, the armadil shield said.

“Not now, shield.” Dallion hissed, then cast a flight spell. Even with all the positives he had achieved in the last hour, the conversation with the general left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. How could someone be so arrogant as to gamble with the fate of cities? He had practice, that was for certain, constantly relying on someone else taking one for the team and dealing with the consequences of his actions.

The flight to the Gremlin’s Timepiece lasted less than a minute. As he approached, Dallion instantly spotted several air currents coming from the inn. Living under the countess had taught Diroh to be careful. That was good.

No longer bothering to remain incognito, Dallion flew directly to the inn door and stepped inside. He expected a crowd to start forming, but the place was remarkably empty. The only people present were Hannah and Diroh. Even Pan had remained in the kitchen, preferring not to get involved.

“Take everything you want to bring along,” Dallion said unceremoniously. “We’re leaving.”

The fury stood up to protest, when Hannah gave her a sign not to.

“Go, Di,” she said in a calm voice. “Only the things you’ll miss.”

“You’re letting him take me? Why? I thought—”

“Just do it, Di. He might be a jackass, but he’s right—people have already noticed and until we get a strong lord mayor, you’ll be safer with Dal than with someone else.”

A bouquet of emotions emanated from Diroh. There was a lot of disapproval, anger, and rebellion, of course, but also a bit of eagerness and joy as well subtly hidden. Walking deliberately slowly, she made her way to her room. Dallion and Hannah kept looking at each other, not saying a word the entire time the fury was there. Once gone, the innkeeper drew a dagger from beneath the counter and slashed all the air-currents Diroh had “forgotten” behind.

“If something happens to her…” the woman began.

“I won’t be alive to defend myself if it does,” Dallion finished for her. “Besides, she’s learned a trick or two.”

“She only had a year. You had five.”

Had it been five already? Dallion had lost track.

“I’ll make her my apprentice,” he said. “Once she has the title, no one will be able to harm her.”

“Other than all the mages that joined the other sides.” Hannah returned the dagger to its place. “Do you have enough authority? She’s not a full mage.”

“She’s close enough. Besides, I’m owed a few favors. She’ll become my apprentice, and with a bit of help from the Academy, a lot more.”

For several long seconds, Hannah kept on glaring straight into his eyes, then shook her head.

“I never thought you'd turn into this.”

“That’s not true. You knew it from the moment you saw me.” Dallion glanced briefly at the kitchen door. “I bet you knew how all of us would turn out. Is that part of your curse?”

“Heh.” The woman grabbed a bottle from the nearby shelf, then poured herself a glass. “My curse.” She gulped it down in one go. “They say that every awakened who lives in Nerosal but isn’t born there has a curse. Mine was to help people I knew would move on. Eury, Jiroh, you…”

“You still have Pan.”

“Only because his curse is even worse than mine. I didn’t expect you to chase after Captain Adzorg like a pup of the Academy, but I knew you’d hurt me.” She filled her glass once more and drank it. “And still, you’re the safest bet that girl has. Pan doesn’t think so, neither does March, but they don’t know you as well as I do.”

“I bet you say that to every otherworlder.”

“When I look at you, I see a hurricane of change. You’ll hurt a lot, more than you have hurt already. You’ll scar the world itself.”

“In that case, why put Di under my care?” Dallion felt a slight chill at the back of his neck.

“Because as long as she’s with you, she’ll be in the eye of the hurricane.”