Glenn was sitting on his bed, concentrating on his Meditation. He could feel his body healing itself, the aches and wounds from his sparring with Mary disappearing slowly. Every time he used this skill, he thanked old man Redan for it. The sound of his stomach grumbling made him lose his concentration. He opened his eyes, bathing in the morning light. He stretched his body, before sighing.

He still didn't know when the Baron would show up, but it could be today as much as it could be in a week. Sahro and he had both a lot and no time to prepare. After they both agreed on the fact that Howard was probably a vampire, they made a quick plan on how their preparations should go. Glenn was still going to try and improve his spells in the Savant Room of the Magi Brotherhood, as well as his martial prowess with Mary during the afternoon.

While doing so, he would try and glean more pieces of information on the Baron. He was also charged with trying to find allies that would like to deal with the noble. Seeing how many people hated the aristocrats, this shouldn't be too hard. The real difficulty would be to find someone skilled enough to not slow them down.

Sahro, on his side, would still try and fill as many contracts as possible. The Black Heir was working steadily, his wealth having long surpassed Glenn's. He would order special, silver-coated weapons for both of them at the Smithy of the Cleaner's Workshop. Hopefully, this would give them an advantage in case things went south.

The last objective on their list was to figure out if Callum was a vampire too or not, for obvious reasons. If he was...getting him back was going to be much, much harder.

Glenn shook his head, before dressing up and leaving his room. He went to the Dining Hall to get breakfast, some bacon, and eggs, filling him up with energy for the day. He then went to the Magi Brotherhood HQ, working on his spells for the entire morning. He hoped that by doing so, he would manage to level up to the Third Circle, but today wasn't the day. After being done with that, he went back to the Cleaner's Workshop, using the lunch hour to sit at tables already filled with people, to socialize and find more information.

One of the things that surprised him was the apparent shortage of Fiery Spirit, the alcohol that knocked him down a few months ago.

"I heard that you can find some only in the upper Circles now!" One of the mercenaries at his table exclaimed, before filling up his mouth with a piece of meat dripping with sauce.

Glenn leaned forward, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What happened? I drank some outside of King's Rise three months ago!"

The mercenary shrugged, before being pushed aside by one of his colleagues.

"Fiery Spirit is produced mainly in the Southern Continent, but there was a small production in a small village...what was it called, Palancar?"

He leaned forward as if telling a secret.

"I heard that during the last Moon Rift, something destroyed the village and burned all its surroundings. It's basically a no man's land, now! And for some reason, caravans stopped coming from the Southern Continent."

He then leaned back, and looked left and right, before pulling a suspicious-looking bottle from his backpack.

"That's one of the last bottles, but I can give you a price if you want!"

Glenn froze, dumbfounded, before chuckling. He refused the offer of the man and kept on eating. It was really weird to see that a thing so common not long ago became that rare and demanded. The explanation of the mercenary made something click in his mind and remembered a scene he witnessed from atop the Still Peak, a flaming, huge object that exploded near a small village. Glenn frowned, confused. He was pretty sure that the village was untouched, even if at risk from the flames. Maybe the villagers didn't manage to stop the fire? Whatever, there was little chance he would go there one day.

A woman mercenary joined their table, a grim expression on her face. The man in front of her seemed to know her, and he asked in worry.

"What's wrong, Marina? The last time I saw a look like that on your face, it was when you let the target eat your prized axe!"

Mercenary Marina sighed, before serving herself a huge jug of ale. She drank around one liter of it before slamming her jug on the table.

"Prepare yourself. I've heard that he is coming soon."

The faces of everyone around the table turned dark, with one of the mercenaries even spitting on the ground, a hateful expression on his face. Glenn didn't need to struggle to understand who was the 'he' she was talking about. Baron Howard was on his way to the Northern Town.

Glenn leaned slightly forward, curious.

"How soon are we talking?"

Marina turned toward him, holding her jug with both hands, before shrugging.

"My friend in the Watchers told me that he left his home yesterday, so, probably tomorrow? With some luck, the day after that?"

Glenn nodded, his fingers crossed in front of him. At the same time, he observed the expressions of everyone sitting with him.

The first mercenary who talked about the shortage of Fiery Spirit had his face buried in his hands, while the other with the dubious-looking bottle was checking his coins. Marina was eating in silence, dispirited. A somber mood had settled around them, and soon enough, the news traveled through the entire Dining Hall, leaving everyone with a grim expression. Glenn observed all that, almost shocked at how terrible this information was. How could the Baron's arrival create such effects?

He shook his head, finishing his meal in the heavy atmosphere. The mercenary stood suddenly, bidding good luck to them. His colleague who tried to sell Glenn the weird bottle stood up in turn, doing the same. Only Glenn and Marina were left. The young man turned toward the experienced mercenary.

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"What are you going to do?"

Marina finished eating the chicken wing in her hand, before wiping her hands on her pants.

"I'm probably going to leave town like those other two. I suggest you do the same. It does no good to anyone to be around during a Harvest."

Glenn nodded, silently taking in the advice. He finally stood up, having finished his meal, and mindlessly went toward the Training halls. He stopped in the middle of the corridor, deciding to go check out the Hearth's Bakery. He felt like he was going to need their homemade cider soon. He walked in the streets, noticing that the village's mood had also shifted. Every person he passed was wishing him good luck and hurried to go back to their homes. The market was empty of wares or merchants, and children were forced to stay inside their houses.

"What the hell is going to happen?" Glenn muttered, unable to guess what was going to happen during this "Harvest". He finally arrived at Rampart Street, looking at Ms. Laurence's Bakery. There was no queue to get the delicious bread, and the shopkeeper was closing the shutters of her shop. She froze when she saw him, before grabbing him by the arm and pulling him inside the shop. She threw a glance outside, before turning toward him, an angry and worried look on her face.

"What are you doing here, young man? Don't you know the Harvest is coming?"

Glenn nodded, before shrugging.

"I'm actually new to the Northern Town. Can...Can you explain what the Harvest is?"

The woman's face paled, and she held herself on a chair. She grabbed Glenn's shoulder.

"You should leave town with your companion for a while. The Baron isn't kind to newcomers or Black Heirs. What did you come here for anyway?"

Glenn smiled awkwardly, feeling his guts wrenching inside him. Something was very wrong with this "Harvest", but he still couldn't put a finger on what that was.

"I came for your cider, Ms. Laurence. I fear I did become addicted!"

Ms. Laurence shook her head, before quickly heading in the back of her shop. She came back with a similar bottle to the one she offered Glenn when he helped exterminate the rats with Glenn.

"Here. Now go quickly find your friend and get out of here!"

She pushed him out of the shop, not even letting Glenn pay for the bottle. He sighed, before slipping a silver coin under her door. He didn't know what the cider was worth, but it didn't feel like a waste to pay that much.

He headed back to the Cleaner's Workshop, meeting a dispirited Sahro sitting on a bench alone. He stopped in front of him, his eyes widened.

"What are you doing here?"

Sahro sighed, before standing up.

"The contract was canceled, again. They keep talking about the "Harvest", and how I should get out of here while I still can."

Glenn winced, before walking toward the Cleaner's Workshop, inviting the Black Heir to follow him. He quickly explained what he learned about the Baron's coming.

"So all of this is because of the Baron?" Sahro asked, his face grim.

Glenn nodded.

"And we can't leave, since we have business with him. I don't know what to expect, but maybe it's better if you don't show yourself. I heard he doesn't like Black Heirs."

Sahro tightened his shemagh around his face in answer, pulling the cloth up to his nose, leaving only his eyes exposed. Every other part of his body was covered with fabric, besides his hands.

They entered the Workshop, silence their only host. The main lobby was empty, with only the three attendants waiting at the counter, smiling as if everything was normal. There wasn't a soul here, besides them. Glenn headed to the Training hall, deciding to check in with Mary. Sahro followed him since he had nothing else to do.

They arrived in the Training area, discovering that it was as empty as the main lobby. It felt as if the entire Cleaner's Workshop was empty. Mary was waiting in one of the arenas, sharpening one of her knives with a lost look. The duo arrived near the woman, making her raise her head.

"Oh, you brought your boyfriend? How cute!" She mocked, sizing Sahro up and down.

Glenn didn't react, too bothered by the news of the Harvest, while the Black Heir only seemed to be puzzled by her words.

"Mary, can you explain what the hell is the Harvest?"

The Cleaner paused and grimaced. She stood up from the sandy ground and dusted her butt off. Mary swiftly sheathed her knife and put her sharpening stone away.

"I forgot you were new to this place and its...culture."

She sighed and looked at the glass ceiling.

"The Harvest...How could I explain that?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, her usually permanent smile gone from her face.

"It's something no one wants to live through. But at the same time, some people can't help but watch it happen."

Glenn stood there, puzzled.

"Can't you explain without riddles?"

The woman shrugged.

"It's hard to explain, I can't help it. It's better if you live it yourself, or you won't understand. I'm not sure you would even believe it."

Glenn sneered, Sahro standing silently behind him.

"Don't worry, I've lived through my fair share of unbelievable things."

Mary clasped her hands behind her head, looking at the sky. Clouds obscured the sun, not helping with the grim atmosphere.

"I can only advise you to get out of town for a while."

She clapped her hands, staring in a predatory manner at the two young men.

"Anyway, what do you gentlemen say we do a light sparring to shake off the tension?"

Glenn was about to politely refuse when Sahro happily accepted.

"With pleasure. I didn't train today, so it'll be perfect!"

Glenn facepalmed, knowing exactly what was going to happen. He scraped his feet against the ground as he unwillingly picked up the Fool's Trainer. He knew he would probably never hit Mary with it, but at least that would strain his muscles a little.

Sahro judged Glenn's choice of weapon, before taking off his shemagh and picking up a wooden curved sword. Mary took two daggers, making them twirl in her hands. Glenn sighed, readying his stance. After a few seconds of stare-down, they threw themselves at each other. It seemed as if Sahro had initially planned to fight the both of them, but he soon didn't have a choice but to ally with Glenn to fight off Mary's relentless attacks.

'Mary, Mary, Mary!' Diamanes encouraged in Glenn's mind, clearly choosing to bet on the winning side. Glenn breathed it, contracting his muscles before hurling horizontally his sword, cleaving the air in two. He used the momentum of the sword to pull it back effortlessly on his shoulder. He wasn't proficient with such a move, so he only managed to hurt his shoulder while not even hitting Mary.

The woman smiled devilishly as she dashed in between the two fighters, slashing at their legs and arms. Glenn could only endure it, while Sahro avoided or blocked most of them. Nonetheless, the two men were pushed back by the beautiful woman, who was dancing on the training ground, cutting and stabbing at them. Glenn suddenly threw his sword at the Mary, before summoning a magic sword, dashing behind the thrown weapon. He tried to use the opportunity created by his throw to slash at the woman, but he only received a heavy hit in the back of his head as punishment, making him fall face first.

"No magic in our fights!" She exclaimed, dashing back toward Sahro.

The Black Heir fought back admirably, but after a not-so-short exchange, his sword flew off from his hands, and the tip of Mary's wooden dagger was pressed against his neck. Glenn panted, rubbing his head, as he pushed himself back up on his feet.

The fight had indeed taken some stress off his shoulders, and the heavy mood reigning in the Northern town seemed to have a lesser effect on him. Mary chuckled, throwing her daggers back onto the weapon rack, before stretching with a satisfied expression.

"Well, that felt good. You should come and spare with us more often..."

"Sahro," The Black Heir said, answering the woman's silent question, "I'm Sahro Sand."

The Cleaner smiled, "Pleased to meet you, Sahro. I'm Mary, Glenn's teacher."

She made one of her overly gracious bows, saluting the young man. Suddenly, the sky turned dark, and a rumbling sound echoed through the Workshop, the ground almost shaking.

Mary's smile disappeared, as she muttered something.

"No way...He's already here?"

She turned toward the two young men, a sad look on her face.

"Good luck."

On those words, she swiftly ran away, heading who knows where. Glenn and Sahro stared at each other, both panting from the short spar.

What the hell was going to happen?