With a slow and heavy creak, the door to the dungeon-like room swung open.

A man clad head-to-toe in black clothing slowly walked in as he held a lantern in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

His face was covered save for his eyes, both of which turned to glance at Lone in surprise. "Oh, you're finally awake."

"Good morning," Lone sarcastically said.

"You can even talk clearly. That's good. I was really worried you'd be all messed up and start having coughing fits like the dwarves," the man said.

"I assume you plan to sell me into slavery, Gregory?" Lone asked with a harsh and somewhat vicious tone.

"Ah, right. I haven't given you any orders yet, what with you being out like a dragon in winter and all. Never speak my name to anyone else ever again. That's an order," Gregory Milatod commanded as he skilfully moved his fingers through the keychain in his hand then unlocked Lone's cell.

"Dragons don't hibernate in winter, you retard. Haven't you ever read a book?" Lone mocked before spitting on the man's face with precise accuracy.

A sense of shock could be felt through Gregory's facemask, but he quickly suppressed it, which Lone naturally didn't let go. "Pussy."

"Pardon?" There was anger in Gregory's voice. He clearly had a very high opinion of himself, that much was obvious.

Lone scoffed. "If you're too scared to hit me since you'll damage your precious merch, then what are you if not a pussy? Fucking degenerate. Got the balls to kidnap me, an innocent blacksmith, and a teenaged girl, but no spine when it comes to putting me in line? You must be new to this whole criminal business, huh? Go get your boss before you somehow forget how to breathe."

Gregory raised his hand and brought it down on Lone like thunder to metal.

A few teeth rolled out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. Lone just smirked in response. "My dad hits harder than you and he's fuckin' dead. Just order me to be a good little foxkin already and take me to meet my new master, for Christ's sake."

Lone could see the rage seething out of the man in front of him, and he promptly jumped on those emotions. "Oh, wait, don't tell me you're so bloody useless you couldn't even find a buyer for a one-of-a-kind nine-tailed Golden Foxkin, could you? I thought incompetence had limits. You sure showed me."

Gregory inhaled sharply to calm himself, and then he grabbed Lone by the collar and pulled him in so that their faces were mere inches away from one another. "You won't live long with a tongue like that, but that's not my problem, it's Margrave Griffset's. That girl you were with though... now her, well, I might just make her my problem. I wouldn't mind inserting myself in her life and... a few other places."

"You're welcome to try from down in hell," Lone whispered.

He gritted his teeth and headbutted Gregory as hard as he physically could, then suddenly, the hinges holding his arm chains to the wall disappeared as if by magic.

Lone then instantly whipped his arms, resulting in the loose chains coiling around Gregory's neck as if they had a life of their own.

"Keh! W-What the?! But the drugs... How?!" Gregory began choking violently as he struggled to get any air whatsoever into his lungs.

The shackles attached to Lone's legs snapped off and he took a step towards the masked man as he tightened the chains and then cracked his neck. "What can I say, I recover quickly."

He slowly started pulling the chains closer and closer to his wrist, forcing them to crush down onto Gregory's oesophagus. The man clawed and struggled with the metal links, but as each second passed, his resistance grew weaker and weaker.

"Would you look at that," Lone said maliciously. "I guess I'm a fuckin' prophet or something, 'cause feel free to right me if I'm wrong, but it seems to me, Gregory Milatod, that you've forgotten how to breathe. What. A. Fucking. Shame. Die, you scum."

Not a few moments later, the life had escaped the man’s eyes as his body sagged to the floor.

Lone scoffed and then used his Creation Magic to destroy his slave collar as well as remove the bonds linking him to the chains.

"Chillin' stuff, laddie," Grimsley said through a few coughs.

Lone smiled wryly. "I had to antagonise him somehow," he said before he crouched down. "Or else how could I get him to lose his cool? I was half expecting him to jab me in the gut with more drugs any second there."

"Aye, an' the whole spiel when ye 'ad 'is neck strung up like a fookin' 'oliday turk'y?" Grimsley asked, again, through a fit of gags and coughs.

Lone scratched his own neck as he placed a palm on the corpse' chest. "Well, the cunt suggested he was going to rape my Sofia. Fuck him. We've all got a bit of evil in us. Ain't nothing wrong with letting it out when it's justified."

Grimsley watched in the darkness as the lantern's fire showed Lone somehow stashing the man's body in its entirety except for a single strange-looking black orb. "'At so? First murder, laddie?"

"... No, not the last either, I suspect," Lone said as he stared at the orb in his hand and whispered. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to..."

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

He shoved the thing in his front pocket and then quickly picked up the keychain and the lantern. With swift movements, he opened Grimsley and the girl's cell. "Sit still. I'll heal you both and we'll escape this place real quick, 'kay?"

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"Gilbert, we are leaving," Sophie said mere seconds after strolling into his office as she was decked head-to-toe in her armour.

The White Dragonkin sighed. "I feared this would happen... It's not even been a day yet, Sofia. Can't you wait a bit longer? I'm far too busy with my paperwork. It's been building-up ever since I started helping you and Lone."

Sophie's eyebrows creased in annoyance under her helmet. "Help us or fail to, we care not. Lone would not have taken so long normally. He should be back by now. We shall find him."

"Okay," Gilbert said a bit reluctantly. "You know him better than I do, so if you can find him, I'd be grateful to learn why he's so late in returning. I really can't leave to help you without putting the guild at risk. Every second I don't act as its guildmaster only gives the speciesist nobles more ammunition to demand that I resign. No offense."

"We need not your gratitude nor are we offended, we may, however, need your aid. If harm has come to Lone... We hope you can help us clean up the mess we shall make as a result," Sophie coldly said before she left the room.

Gilbert sighed deeply and then held his head in his hands. "Damn it... two hours. If she doesn't find him in two hours, then I'll search too. Fuck. If this costs me my job, Lone, then I'll have to rely on the grand guildmaster to help smooth everything over. Please, Primals, do me a favour and ensure that Lone wasn't kidnapped, would you...? Haha, though, I suppose whatever's made him so late has already happened, now, hasn't it?"

He got up out of his seat and looked through his office's window at the dark sky above. "I wish alcohol didn't taste like swill to me... I could go for something to help me through yet another sleepless night..."

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Sophie's expression of anger and upset was quickly morphing into one of impatience and worry. "Where is he?" she mumbled.

"Ah... we are even speaking to ourself like he does... how foolish..." Sophie mocked herself as she continued to lightly jog, only teleporting when she was sure that no one was looking directly at her.

Thankfully, it was quite dark at this late hour, but still, people lingered in the streets as liquor coursed through their veins from a good night of drinking away their daily troubles.

'We've just about searched this entire city. All that's left is the red-light district, the noble district, and the royal district. Did that ignorant pompous child kidnap Lone? We find that doubtful, but perhaps another noble did when he was weak? We can picture Lone expending all his Mana Points to save Grimsley.' Sophie had few other leads, and Soph was crying her soul out as she whispered Lone's name repeatedly in Sophie's mind, so she would be of no help, leaving her with little option in where to continue her search.

'The red-light district it is. We would rather avoid the noble district if possible and the royal district is just asking for trouble. We swear if he's been wasting the night away in some strumpet’s arms... We will slit her throat and then beat him within an inch of his life...’ Sophie promised herself.

‘Hic... Hic... L-Lone wouldn't... Hic... Do that...' Soph defended him.

Sophie rolled her eyes under her helmet as she did several consecutive teleports.

'We know, we are simply distracting ourselves. If you wish to continue to be useless, then cry silently. No matter what, Lone shall be punished for making you worry so much, Soph.' Her tone was sharp, and her words were harsh, but each one was filled with love. To Sophie, nothing was more important than her other self.

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"Wow! It's so lively here! Everyone's all dressed up," Emma Malik said as she, George Leston, and Bastion Griffset - the bastard, entered what could conventionally be called a nightclub though of the medieval variant.

Ceela followed behind them and paid the front door's guard for their entry - out of her own pocket. 'This little entitled shitstain and his friends... I can't afford to be picking up your tab for everything. I hope he doesn't expect me to buy him and them drinks as well.'

The adventurer kept a close watch on everyone as Bastion, George, and Emma, were led to a booth to use as their own for the evening.

'I should be in my bed right now, not wasting my time looking after some snobby kids... Damn it, why couldn't you have been a bit more sneaky, Mister Golden Foxkin?' Ceela complained as she found a good wall to lean against.

Bastion grinned to Emma and said, "I always make a point of coming here at least once or twice whenever I'm in the capital. It's the perfect place to get drunk and enjoy yourself after a hard day's work, or to celebrate like we're doing."

Emma smiled and asked, "Right, right, by the way, what are we even celebrating? I didn't expect George, of all people, to give an invitation to go out. I thought it was a date, of all things, hahaha."

"Ah... So that's why you look prettier than usual..." George muttered.

"Hmm? It's hard to hear you over the band," Emma said as she basically pushed her face up against George's.

He turned beet-red and then shook his head. "Uh, um, I d-didn't say anything..."

"Oh." Emma seemed disappointed.

‘So obvious. One’s a flirt, the other probably has negative Charm,’ Ceela commented internally.

Bastion smirked arrogantly. "I'll tell you what the special occasion is after we've had something to drink. You there, slave! Get us some drinks and something to eat!"

The attractive girl with rabbit ears atop her head and a slave collar around her neck, smiled politely and took their orders. Not long after they had been served, Bastion revealed why they were there. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a scroll.

"This is why we're celebrating," he said with a big grin on his face as he laid the parchment out over the table, displaying what was written on it.

"A contract of ownership over... the nine-tailed Golden Foxkin Lone Immortus? Did his master decide to sell him?" George asked dubiously.

Emma looked at the contract a bit more thoroughly than George did. "Gregory Milatod? As in, the current head of the Milatod barony? How'd he get his hands on Lone?"

"You know this demi?" Bastion asked as he took a nice long swig of his wine.

Ceela raised an eyebrow at this too. ‘He’s more connected than I thought, but she is a flirt so… No… That would never happen. He’d be dead by that bastard duke’s hand instead of simply being sold.’

Emma nodded excitedly. "Yeah! By the Primals, he was to die for. I've never seen anyone more handsome. I wonder how the baron managed to get Lone from that foreign noble? Won't that, like, really cripple her since she's blind and needs his help?"

‘Or maybe it did happen,’ Ceela amended her prior thought as she saw George stroking his jawline sheepishly. ‘Definitely negative Charm.’

"Indeed, that would bother us," a high-pitched and very angered voice said as the sound of armour moving rang throughout the booth.

The foreign noblewoman Sofia Vladimirovich unsheathed her swords and pointed one at Bastion's neck while the other she kept close at her side. "Where is Lone? Tell us if you wish to continue living."

Her bloodlust was so thick it could almost be seen.

‘O-Oh fuck. This woman… She’s killed so many people. I can- It’s- How?!’ Ceela panicked internally.

"W-What's going on?" George was beyond perplexed and was starting to panic.

Emma, on the other hand, appeared perfectly calm and even perhaps a bit excited.

"C-Ceela!" Bastion yelled while he broke out into a cold sweat. "Convince this woman to stand down! I shan't be treated like this, even if she is a fellow noble!"

Needless to say, things were getting rather intense in the nightclub, and not in the usual sense. Ceela hated this job. She really fucking hated it.