Sara sat outside The Spring, an adventurer guild that cleansed the forest of beasts during the springtime so people could harvest mana-rich herbs used for elixirs and medicines. It was similar to a ski resort in that way, bringing people there once a year en masse to obtain riches. She knew—she had participated.

That was the thought she focused on, drinking a bottle of wine under the red moonlight, preparing herself for what was to come.

2

“Come, come,” Tyran said, pointing at the tables. “It’s regrettable that we don’t have a feast. We didn’t know when or if you were coming.”

“That’s fine,” Matt said hesitantly. He didn’t trust the man, but then again, he didn’t trust Lakow, Riley, or really anyone. He was running off adrenaline and fear and probably wouldn’t feel comfortable until he crossed the Lemings border.

“It’s fine,” Riley said. “We’re just glad you reached out.” She was the first to sit at a table, followed by Elizabeth—the blonde that bludgeoned Helen despite being her friend (something that increasingly bothered him)—and then the rest of the heroes. They all sat at a table—as always. Matt sat last.

“First, allow us to introduce ourselves,” Tyran said. “My name is Tyran Grollis, a noble under the patronage of the rightful heir, Halter Escar,” he said. “These individuals are your servants and mentors until we meet with Prince Escar and move to the Lemings Kingdom.”

The hooded figures took off their hoods, exposing their remarkably normal faces.

“While we wait for food, please allow me to tell you what will happen from here on out,” Tyran said. “We have a smuggler network that’ll bring us out of the kingdom. The men… are shady. That’s a fact. But we have a deal with the Lemings Kingdom. They will not try to harm you, but if they do. Well, you’re strong enough to handle them, I suppose?” He sent them a cheeky smile, and Matt couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth said. “We’ve been trained to fight demons.”

The others smiled bitterly.

“We wouldn’t expect anything else,” Tyran said. “Well then, let me explain what’ll happen once you get to the Lemings Kingdom.” He went on to make grand promises of noble titles, generous wealth, and status if they joined the military. He explained how Lemings was stronger and wealthier than the Escaran Kingdom and how they’d have better teachers and resources. As he spoke, the cooks brought out juicy meat and soup, bottles of wine, tea, and hot drinks in large containers.

Matt and Riley looked at the food and drink with suspicion.

Tyran noticed and looked at them pityingly. “You poor things.” He opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass, and took a large drink from it. Then, he did the same for the hot drinks and sampled the food. “You won’t have to live in fear where we’re going. Now eat, eat.”

After Tyran’s demonstration, Matt gave in to his ravenous hunger and started eating. Contrary to expectations, his vision didn’t blur, and he didn’t collapse. The food was delicious, and the hot drinks were sweet, like cocoa. If anything, he felt good—really good. Relaxed. Relieved. Then, as if he was snapping out of a haze, he blinked and asked. “Shouldn’t we be leaving right now?” Matt asked.

Tyran shook his head. “The second they learn that you’ve disappeared, Lady Reece will scour the area with unlimited resources. It’s too dangerous.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Riley asked.

“We’ll stay here for a month,” Tyran said. “There’s a hidden room downstairs that our people use on missions. I assure you—it’ll be to your liking.”

Matt gulped but agreed.

After dinner, Tyran led them down the stairs to a large recreation area. Then, he led them to a bedroom in the back. Underneath the bed was an extraordinarily well-crafted classic trap door under the rug. The heroes were hesitant to go down, but Tyran, Lakow, and the servants entered first, so Matt followed.

“What’s that smell?” Riley asked when they got to the bottom. It smelled like sulfur, but not the kind from fires. It was something else, but he couldn’t put his finger on it in his sleepy state.

“There’s a natural hot spring down here,” Tyran said brightly. Once they got to the main room, they were stunned. It was the size of the building’s dining hall with tables, and there were two major rooms. He showed them both, followed by a room that led into a humid, steamy cave where green mana crystals glittered off a hot spring. “It’s really comfortable living here,” Tyran said, “and your servants will clean the rooms and prepare your food. All you’ll have to do is enjoy yourself and play games.”

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“That sounds nice,” Elizabeth yawned, rubbing her eyes with her forearm. Everyone agreed.

3

Matt slunk into the hot spring. It was a beautiful stone area with ambient green light that glittered on the rocks. He couldn’t remember when he felt so good.

That night, he slept the deepest sleep of his life. Everyone did. And in the sunless, clockless area, they wouldn’t know how long they slept.

4

Sara sighed when Tyran exited the door of The Spring. “Well?”

Tyran smiled and leaned against a tree. “They all drank it,” he said, “They’ll be out for a week.” They gave them darma root, which apothecaries referred to as “deep heal.” The root put injured soldiers into a temporary coma for a week so that they could heal in peace. It was an expensive, miracle drug—but it was worth it.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just kill them,” Tyran said. “You’re handing intel to King Lemings.”

“We want the world to know of our presence,” Sara said, “we just don’t want Lemings to overestimate us. This hits two birds with one stone.” Instead of killing them, she was going to crack their cores and send them to King Lemings. They’d remain stronger than normal people, but their power would be remarkably disappointing, leading King Lemings to lower his guard.

Tyran smiled mockingly. “It doesn’t have anything to do with not killing them?”

Sara frowned. “There’s that too. When will they hit blackout?”

“In an hour,” Tyran said.

“Then let’s get a drink.”

“What about… her?” Tyran turned to the door where a blonde was standing, waiting patiently.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’s like you.” Sara walked past him and walked up to Elizabeth. “Let’s get a drink.”

7

An hour later, Sara and the rest descended the stairs and entered the male’s dorm, feeling like a serial killer as she looked at their sleeping bodies. “Okay. Let’s do this.” Tyran and Lakow picked up Matt’s unconscious body and brought him to a back room. After activating privacy arrays to eliminate sound—an extra precaution—Tyran pulled out a box containing the extra vials of silverena that he made with Kyritus’s silvermoon bloom. He slowly extracted out the glowing liquid with a syringe.

The goal was to puncture a hole through Matt’s core like it was a bike tire and then fill it with tire-fixing goo. If she shattered the core, it would be unfixable, but if she just cracked it, it would reduce his magical output to just above Edico’s. Impressive, but far from something that justified multiple armies to address.

“Tell me when it cracks,” Sara said, putting her hands on Matt’s chest. “If even one shatters, we’ll have to kill them. And if that happens, this is on you.”

“Why does everything come down on my head?” Tyran scoffed. “Just go slowly.”

Sara gulped and nodded. Slowly and yet meticulously, she transferred magical energy into his body, cooking his core like a lobster. As she moved, he started to sweat and wheeze from his core overheating—but he didn’t wake. This process took a grueling twenty minutes before a powerful amount of magical energy exploded out of his chest.

“It’s cracked,” Tyran laughed.

“Just cracked?” Sara asked grimly.

“Just cracked. If you overloaded it, it would’ve exploded. Now step aside.”

Sara did and watched Tyran stick him with the needle, injecting silverena to patch up his core.

As he healed, Sara checked a pocket watch and cringed. It would be sunlight in an hour, and she still needed to make it back to the castle before hell broke loose.

“I’ll come back over the next few days,” she said. “I’ll say I’m hunting for them. Will this hold up until then?”

Tyran frowned. “Don’t take too long. If we give them more, they’ll die.”

Sara swallowed, feeling the pressure. “Okay. I’ll be back.” With those words, she looked at Elizabeth. “Let’s go.”

Elizabeth nodded silently and left the building with her.

5

Sara sat on a silver glider, offering her hand to Elizabeth.

“How’d you know I’d do it?” Elizabeth asked in a dark, almost manly voice as she accepted her hand. It was nothing like the warm, loving voice she used around Tara and Helen earlier that night.

“You dropped the act in my last life.” Sara didn’t know what happened to most of the heroes—but she wasn’t blind to their actions, either. As for Elizabeth, she served King Escar, Jason, and Mary with the same demeanor, accepting political mercenary roles without prejudice. She was neither an assassin nor a sadist, just someone who could infiltrate groups and befriend people only to betray them—just like what was playing out—and sleep at night. Elizabeth confessed this role to Sara and offered her “services” to King Alecov, but Sara couldn’t do it. Not after the woman helped Mary. Instead, she just paid Elizabeth off and posted her up in the noble district with an allowance, watching her carefully. During the war, Sara put her in the middle of the action. Elizabeth did so without complaint. She died—and it haunted Sara, wondering if this strange blonde truly was just a heartless machine and if it wasn’t necessary to get rid of her life. This life she planned to find out—carefully.

“I see,” Elizabeth said.

Sara looked up to the sky, staring at the moon. “Follow me, and you’ll live a great life unless you abuse people. You’ll get to do that for your work.”

“Hoh?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “I don’t enjoy this, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Sara turned to her. “You just don’t care—and that’s worse.”

Elizabeth laced her fingers and stretched her arms in front of her, pushing until her knuckles cracked. “You’re not worried I’ll betray you? Tell everyone?”

“People like you….” Sara snorted and shook her head. “People like you will follow anyone so long’s the price is right—and I pay well.”

6

Sara and Elizabeth had barely landed the silver glider on the roof and made it to the hallway when Andy found them—together.

“Sara!” Andy yelled in a panic. Sara froze—he never called her Sara anymore. She swallowed hard, wondering what was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Sara asked.

Andy laughed viciously. “That fucker betrayed us and hurt Helen! I’m going to kill them!”