“Is everything alright, young master?” Taem asked.

Dallion didn’t respond. Ever since returning from the imperial palace he had been sitting in his study, staring at the sky silver box the duchess had given him. Things hadn’t turned out at all as he expected. With the return of Gleam and Eury he had thought he could see light at the end of the tunnel, only to have it abruptly closed off with violent force.

The fake March was right—the city was a den of void corruption. No wonder that the empire couldn’t succeed in their battle against the Star cults—the source of that corruption originated from the very heart of the empire. If he hadn’t seen the emperor in person, Dallion would have thought that Tamin was a high-ranking member of the cult hierarchy, possibly another Star in the making.

“Young master?” Taem asked again. “Would you like me to bring more pieces of wood for your training?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, that would be nice. Thanks.” Dallion replied absentmindedly. “Taem, could you organize another party?”

“That would be a splendid idea, sir. I’ll make sure that the people involved are of higher caliber than last time.”

“No, actually, I’d like you to invite the exact same people,” Dallion clarified. “Especially Ber.”

“Ber, sir?” Surprise emanated from the servant. “If you’re sure.”

“Yes. And send him here when he arrives.” Dallion looked up. “Alone.”

“Of course, sir.”

Dallion spent a few minutes carving, boosting his skill a few levels more, but his mind wasn’t into it. Somehow, the capital’s allure had managed to affect even him. The backing of an imperial house, the promise of details relating to his mother, even the notion that he could carve out a realm of his own in this place, had made him ignore the rest of the world.

Looking at it from the side, it was as if his life had been put on pause—a glamorous vacation from reality that came with its own set of challenges and issues. It was almost as if he had entered a realm, but unlike any awakened realm, this one didn’t cause time to stop.

After eight carved items, Dallion decided he had had enough. His carving skill had reached fifty—good enough should he enter a serious fight. Anything more than that could wait.

For the first time in his life, he felt like the leeches couldn’t arrive fast enough.

You can always just purify it, dear boy, Adzorg suggested.

That wasn’t entirely true. Family non-combat heirlooms were among the things that were better left as they were. If a weapon were to be improved, that would be a mark of strength—achieving something past generations couldn’t. If he were to improve the ring, on the other hand, he would have destroyed the item’s significance.

“The ring is just a symptom,” Dallion replied.

Possibly, but it’ll at least put your mind at ease.

That was one way of looking at it.

“Thanks, Nil.” Dallion went back to the desk. When Vihrogon had created the room, he had deliberately made it windowless. That way, the outside wouldn’t distract Dallion. It was a good decision, although right now Dallion wouldn’t have minded spending a while looking at the sky. “And how has the emperor been treating you?”

Oh, I can’t complain. I got my hands healed, which is always a plus. Now and again, I’m even allowed to join the emperor in the garden.

“Oh?”

Sorry, dear boy. Moon vow. Everything spoken in the garden will remain there.

“Everything in the garden remains in the garden,” Dallion said.

Interesting if the same could be said about Adzorg. The mage—the real one, not the echo within Dallion’s realm that he changed places with—remained a prisoner. In theory, the emperor had promised to give him to Dallion after the successful completion of the task, but that had yet to occur. On that note, Dallion was yet to be summoned by the ruler again. Apparently, now that the crisis was seemingly averted, the emperor had lost interest in him.

A minute later, the leeches started arriving. Dallion had no idea who the first ones were, nor was he interested in finding out. He could hear the laughter coming from the lower floors. One had to admire Taem’s skills. He managed to fulfill any request and do it so seamlessly that one would swear he had planned it all along.

With every minute, the noise grew louder and louder. Finally, at one point, Dallion heard the sound of steps making their way up to the second floor. Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

“Your guest has arrived, young master,” Taem said from the outside.

“Let him in,” Dallion ordered.

The door opened, and Ber stepped inside. The noble was dressed in a new set of clothes: a sapphire thread shirt, onyx trousers, and a peculiar set of basilisk scale shoes. As usual, he was holding a large glass of alcohol, sipping from it as he entered.

“Dal,” he nodded between sips. “Like the shoes? Fresh stock from the wilderness. Hunters came in earlier today. Most of the good things were already taken, but I used a few tricks to—”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You promised you could get me out of the capital,” Dallion interrupted. Even if he couldn’t sense the lies with his music skill, he didn’t have time for this.”

Ber’s expression abruptly changed.

“I promised I’d try,” he corrected. “Provided you give me one of the house emblem rings.”

Strangely enough, there were no comments regarding Euryale. There was no way that Ber, of all people, wasn’t aware. Duchess Elazni must have made it clear that she didn’t want any mention of the story, at least among family members.

“The emblem ring.”

Dallion reached down. Instead of opening the sky silver box on the desk, though, he took one of his recent carvings. With his hands hidden from the other’s sight, Dallion quickly cast an illusion spell, transforming the worthless object into a perfect replica of the heirloom. As far as anyone was concerned, it was the actual item; with the amount of detail Dallion had put into the spell, only a mage would be able to tell it was a fake.

“Here,” Dallion tossed the item to Ber.

Astonishment and joy emanated from the man.

“You really…” Ber wasn’t able to finish his sentence, looking at the item as if it had supernatural qualities. “You got an emblem ring?”

You can be really nasty, you know that? Gleam said from Dallion’s realm.

It’s better for him.

“How?”

“Does it matter?” Dallion flashed a confident smirk. “I asked the duchess nicely, and she gave it. As long as you don’t sell it for booze, we’ll be fine.”

“Sell it?” Ber breathed on the ring then polished it into his shirt. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

“Good. Now, time for your part of the bargain.”

“Now?” Annoyance mixed with green bubbled to the surface. “Why waste the party? Let’s have a few drinks, a bite or two, have a chat with…” The man’s voice trailed off at the sight of Dallion’s expression. “Can I finish my drink, at least?”

“I’m not a monster,” Dallion said as he passed by, tapping Ber on the shoulder. “Take it with you.”

The solution was not one Ber would have preferred, but he clearly wasn’t given the option. Without paying any attention to his guests, Dallion left his mansion, followed reluctantly by his distant relative. No one in the crowd paid them any attention. As much as one could blame the area guardian, that tended to be just the nature of the guests.

Things changed on the streets. While most of the people had gotten used to Dallion, the lifeless guardians of the capital were observing him with increased interest. Golems, metalins, and bladerers would turn his direction, making it known that the emperor was keeping an eye. They didn’t approach him, nor did they follow, only kept on watching.

Don’t worry about it, dear boy, Adzorg said. Just an appropriate reaction to your recent guest.

I thought the emperor knew everything, Dallion responded.

He does, but he must also be seen as knowing everything. It’ll die down soon enough, have no worry.

Easier said than done. Euryale was still in the imperial palace, which was longer than any audience with the emperor Dallion knew of. Likely she had been offered to stay there for the night, and given her position within the alliance, she had no choice but to accept.

“Where are we going exactly?” Dallion asked.

“Overseer quarter,” Ber replied. “It’s a bit out of the way, so it will take a while.”

“Sure thing,” Dallion replied. It wasn’t the first time he had heard the overseer quarter be mentioned, but he had yet to be there personally. Come to think of it, he didn’t remember seeing the place. Out of curiosity, he tried prying information from the local guardians—area and item alike—only to receive silence.

Ber kept on walking with his usual confidence. Every now and again, he’d take a random turn, continuing with no rhyme or reason. There didn’t seem to be any destination in mind, just walking, turning, and more walking. After close to half an hour, Dallion was able to notice what was really going on. The reason they weren’t going towards a specific destination was because they weren’t walking on the streets; rather, they were following the mosaic-nature of the area domains within the city, never going through the same one twice.

“We’re walking through a maze,” Dallion noted.

“I guess you can call it that.” Ber shrugged. “It’s no big secret, just most people don’t bother to learn it. Anyone important is automatically invited there. Mind you, anyone important wouldn’t be caught dead in the overseers’ quarter.”

To them, they were just another batch of servants, Dallion thought.

Twenty more minutes, the pair kept on walking through the invisible maze, until they finally reached a spot that Dallion hadn’t seen before. He knew his exact position in the city—the imperial palace and the wall towers were clearly visible—just not his immediate surroundings. It was as if he had stumbled upon an area that didn’t exist. To make the whole thing even more confusing, there didn’t seem to be any area guardians in the vicinity, either. The buildings—slightly more modest than the usual city standard—were guardian-less, as were all the clothes and items of the local inhabitants. As for them—all, to the last one, were platinum blond.

“Here we are,” Ber said, ignoring the unwelcoming glances that half a dozen people were giving them. “The overseer quarter. Home to all current and future overseers.”

That explained why the capital had so many overseers—they were literally growing them. Realizing it, Dallion thought back to what Lady Marigold of Nerosal had told him. At the time, when she had mentioned that she had dated a platinum blond, she wasn’t boasting. On the contrary, the old noble was admitting to committing taboo, one that might well have resulted in her banishment.

“We don’t seem to be welcome here,” Dallion whispered.

“Please,” Ber laughed. “Other than your place, I’m hardly welcome anywhere. Come on, it’s this—”

“Ber!” An overseer emerged from the ground a few steps away. “I told you not to show your face here.”

“Leine.” Ber extended his hands in a welcoming gesture. “No need to be like that. I’m here on business this time.”

The overseer didn’t respond, but the glance he gave Dallion suggested that the baron wasn’t welcome, either.

“I brought something this time.” Ber reached into his pocket. “Just as I promised I would.”

“She doesn’t want to see you!” Black tendrils shot out of the overseer’s clothes, stopping inches from Ber’s throat. “Go out of here or I’ll do it for you.”

Internally, Dallion groaned. Of course, it couldn’t be so simple. That’s what he got for trusting a leech. There was no telling what Ber had gotten involved in, but it wasn’t anything good. Now, by the looks of it, Dallion would have to fight an overseer, which would hardly go well in the eyes of anyone.

“I can talk for myself,” a new voice said. Emerging from one of the small roads of the overseer’s quarter, was a tall, slender woman in her early twenties. Like everyone else, she had platinum blond hair, and a set of black clothes overseers usually wore. The difference was that she remained very much human.

The woman made her way up to the overseer, then stopped and crossed her arms.

“I don’t want to see you,” she said in a firm tone.

“But I have it this time,” Ber opened his hand.

The moment the emblem ring flickered in Ber’s palm, Dallion knew he had made another mistake.