Silas glanced at the summoning orb in his hand, then back at the tamers assembling in a loose semicircle. Their smug faces and relaxed postures screamed overconfidence.

Perfect.

He forced a grin that he hoped conveyed more assurance than he felt.

"Absolutely, I can take you all on," he said, trying to inject a note of bravado into his voice. "Not an issue. You guys group up over there, and I'll get ready."

The tamers exchanged glances, smirking as they backed up.

The wildcat tamer slapped the drake summoner on the shoulder, laughing. "This is gonna be quick.”

Silas nodded, slowly turning his back to them and pretending to ready his summoner's orb. His mind raced as he took a few careful steps forward, his body coiled ready to go.

"I hope you assholes are ready for a beat down," He could hear their snickers behind him and the low growls of their creatures preparing for the battle.

"Big talk for a guy who's about to lose everything.” The drake summoner laughed out.

Silas ignored it, focused fully on what was about to happen, he gripped the summoning orb tighter. They were getting into position, distracted by their own anticipation of an easy win, easy coin, and revenge.

This was his moment. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders, making a show of winding up as if to throw the orb.

And then, he bolted the other direction.

Silas sprinted through the crowd, pushing his way past startled onlookers as the tamers yelled in confusion behind him.

"Hey! What the hell?! Where are you going?!"

He didn't look back, weaving through the crowd of people as fast as his legs would carry him. Behind him, he could hear the clatter of footsteps as the tamers scrambled to chase after him.

"Get him! That bastard's running!"

Silas ducked down a narrow alley, heart pounding in his chest. The crowded streets and makeshift arenas were his only chance now.

He darted between food stalls, shoving past startled vendors, the smell of roasted meat and burning coals filling his nostrils as he dashed deeper into the chaos of the outer ring.

He veered left at a fork in the alleyways, skidding slightly on loose gravel but maintaining his speed.

Behind him, his pursuers were losing ground, but hadn't been shaken completely. Silas spotted an open doorway ahead and threw himself inside without thinking twice.

The interior was dimly lit, filled with stacks of crates and barrels that created a kind of maze-like space. Silas quickly moved through them, knocking over anything that might slow down his pursuers.

He could hear their angry shouts drawing nearer but focused on moving forward.

Then he went through a side door and back outside.

The crowd was his only hope.

The market was in full swing, vendors hawking everything from weapons to enchanted trinkets. Silas plunged into the mass of bodies, shoving his way through the crowd. He kept his head down, ducking behind carts and slipping between groups of distracted shoppers.

Behind him, he could hear his pursuers struggling to keep up, their voices fading as the noise of the market swallowed them.

"He went that way!"

"No, I saw him go left—!"

Silas smirked, making a sharp turn down another busy street, blending in with a group of travelers examining a rack of charms. He crouched low, moving behind a large stall draped in brightly colored fabrics, and slipped out of sight. He pressed his back against the stall's wooden frame, sucking in deep breaths as he listened to the fading sounds of footsteps and angry shouts.

They passed him by, none the wiser. Silas exhaled, relieved.

For now, he was safe.

Silas remained crouched behind the stall, heart still pounding in his chest.

He peered out from behind the rack of fabrics, scanning the crowd. The shouts of his pursuers had faded into the general noise of the market. They grew distant, frustrated.

None were close.

Still, he wasn't about to risk moving too soon.

He waited. A few minutes passed.

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The flow of people thickened, merchants haggling with customers, children chased each other while parents tried to go about their business.

The tamers he'd left behind were nowhere to be seen. Silas allowed himself to relax, just a little.

Finally, when he was sure the coast was clear, he slipped out from behind the stall. He kept his head low, moving with the crowd, blending in until he found a quieter side street, a small courtyard with a crumbling stone bench. He sank onto it, letting out a long breath.

I survived.

Silas sat for a moment, rubbing his face with his hands. What now?

The Magistrate's Office wasn't far either, and if he went back now, maybe he could get more information on official battles or legal ways to raise funds. He'd already done enough running for one day.

He still had a bit of silver in his coin purse, more than before, at least, but not nearly enough to cover the estate's back taxes.

Not even to cover the 1%.

The idea of returning to face the Magistrate empty-handed wasn't going to work.

I need another option.

He needed a plan, and rushing into another battle wasn't going to work, not after what just happened.

Silas leaned back on the bench, staring at the sky. The estate loomed in the back of his mind, and his inheritance.

He hadn't spent much time there, not since he was just a kid.

The magistrate's words echoed in his head: "There could be something useful there—maybe even something of value if it hasn't completely fallen to ruin."

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking off the dirt and grime from his earlier escape. Maybe the estate held more than just debt and decay.

His grandfather, Dewalt Beckham, had been a famous Arch Magus after all. Surely he would have left behind something valuable—relics, magical artifacts, maybe even hidden caches of gold.

Or secrets, Silas thought. Secrets that could help him pull himself out of this mess.

He sighed and stood up, brushing off his pants. Sitting here wasn't going to solve anything. If he wanted to find a way out of this financial pit, he needed to explore every possible avenue, and that included the estate.

Alright then, he decided. To the mansion.

It was time to uncover whatever secrets lay within Beckham Estate.

Silas made his way through the curving streets, the noise and business of the market fading behind him as he approached the quieter, more imposing third ring.

The buildings here were larger, more ornate, with stone walls lined with faded sigils and ancient runes.

His destination, the Beckham estate, stood at the far end of a narrow street, nestled among the grand but decaying homes of Bastian's old guard.

It didn't take long for the gates to come into view. They were tall, rusted iron bars, choked with ivy and flanked by stone pillars marked with Dewalt's signature wards.

Even at a distance, the estate felt... unwelcoming.

The once-grand manor loomed beyond the gates, its windows dark, its walls cracked. Magic hung heavy in the air, faint but present, like a distant memory of power that had long since faded.

As Silas approached the gates, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Something stirred in the shadows of the entrance, two hulking figures emerged from either side of the gate. They moved with a heavy, deliberate purpose, metal grinding against metal with each step.

Their armor was overlapped with dark mana and shadowed, dull and battered but unmistakably dangerous.

The Gemini.

The twin Cursed Armors that guarded the estate. They were massive, nearly eight feet tall, their blank helmets giving him no signs of acknowledgement or understanding.

Then red wispy eyes opened and locked onto him.

Silas felt a moment of unease.

"Uh… right. I'm the new owner," Silas called out weakly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. He hoped the hulking figures would recognize him or at least respond to his voice.

Their sightless gaze pressed down on him.

The Gemini didn't respond.

Instead, they both raised their weapons, huge bastard swords that seemed far too large for even their massive frames to wield. The air around them crackled with latent mana as they began to advance.

Silas glanced around, searching for an escape route. The street behind him was empty. Running wasn't an option this time.

"Wait, wait!" Silas backed up, hands still in the air. "I'm the heir! You know, Dewalt's grandson?"

The Gemini didn't falter. Silas's mind raced.

Think, think! He needed to find a way to prove his identity before becoming a very short-lived heir.

"I'm not some random trespasser!" he shouted, stepping back again as the armor on the left advanced, sword raised high above its head. "I mean, look at me! I've got the same hair as Dewalt!"

The Gemini didn't seem impressed by his family resemblance.

Desperation crept into his voice. "Seriously, he used to tell me bedtime stories about these wards! I know about the ley lines beneath the estate! How else would I know that?"

The armors paused for a fraction of a second.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

Silas seized the moment.

He fumbled in his pockets, heart pounding as he searched for the notice of inheritance. The Gemini stood still, their swords raised but no longer advancing. The pause gave him just enough time to dig out the crumpled parchment.

"Here! Look at this!" Silas shouted, holding the document high in the air. "This is my proof. I'm the rightful heir to the Beckham estate!"

The armors remained motionless.

Then one on the left stepped forward, sword raised high above its head.

Silas' heart leapt into his throat. They didn't recognize him. "Plan B then."

The sword came down, and he dove to the side, feeling just how close the blade had been before it crashed into the stonework sending sparks flying.

Scrambling to his feet, Silas bolted toward the estate's boundary. Plan B was no plan at all, no strategy, just a retreat.

Behind him, The Gemini moved with relentless precision. The red aura of one armor flared brightly as it swung its massive sword, narrowly missing Silas's legs.

The other armor, bathed in blue light, cut off his escape route with a calculated step, forcing him to zigzag and vault across the overgrown courtyard.

Silas's heart pounded.

He dodged and weaved through the estate's garden, barely managing to stay ahead of the relentless guardians. The ivy and thorns clawed at his clothes and skin, but he couldn't afford to slow down.

His lungs burned as he sprinted past crumbling statues and toppled pillars. The Gemini's footsteps were heavy and unyielding behind him, metal grinding against stone followed.

Silas risked a glance over his shoulder, just in time to see a blade crash down where he had been.

With a burst of adrenaline, Silas pushed himself harder. He spotted the gate ahead, the rusted iron bars that marked the boundary of safety. If he could just make it there, he would be safe.

The Gemini were right behind him, Silas reached deep within himself, finding a final reserve of energy as he hurtled toward the exit.

He crossed the threshold of the gates just as another sword slashed into a statue he had just pushed past, then he stumbled out onto the cobbled street beyond and collapsed against a wall, gasping for breath.

The Gemini halted at the gate's edge. Their glowing eyes remained fixed on him for a long moment before they slowly turned and went back to their posts by the entrance.

"Well fuck. This is complicated."