“You want what?”

“I want you to make me a jacket or something out of it.”

Chep stared in horror at the blood-soaked heap of darkness lying in front of his cart.

“A jacket? Out of that?”

“Sure,” Liam said. “I can’t see why not. The head is missing, I grant you that, but the rest is mostly still there. Surely that should be enough.”

The man went a little closer and inspected the body. “I have never seen such a thing.”

“It’s a Nightshade Crawler,” Jerem helpfully chimed in from behind Liam.

His friend had joined him on his walk to one of the caravan’s craftsmen. More out of necessity than because Liam needed company though, he had simply been too weak to carry the heavy body all by himself.

Especially after the grueling morning workout.

“Putting a name on things doesn’t make it easier,” Chep said. “I have no idea how good this material is, nor how to work it.”

“So you can’t do it?”

“Sorry boy, but no chance.”

“What a shame,” Liam sighed and turned towards Jerem. “I told you it would be too difficult for him.”

“Yeah, we should’ve gone to Egmont immediately just like you said.”

“I suppose Barney was right, he really is the best craftsman in the caravan.”

Liam hadn’t yet taken more than a step towards Jerem and the Nightshade Crawler when Chep interrupted them.

“Now wait a second! That hornhole isn’t even worth the tools he uses. He sure as hell would only botcher your beautiful pelt. You should leave that in the hands of an experienced craftsman!”

Liam raised an eyebrow. “And that would be you?”

“Of course!” The man inflated his chest.

“But,” Jerem said. “Didn’t you say, just a minute ago, that it would be utterly impossible to make something out of the animal?”

“Uhh… Yeah-” Chep hesitated. “But only because you asked for a jacket! There isn’t enough on that body to make a solid jacket. Just not enough surface area.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jerem asked.

“Yes, of course, only an idiot would attempt to overstretch the materials. Had you gone to Egmont that’s surely what would’ve happened! No, it can’t become a jacket. But what about a cloak instead?”

Liam’s face remained impassive. He still stood halfway turned away from Chep and his wagon. He could see how uncomfortable the situation made the craftsman, and he relished it a little. After a moment though, he let the suppressed smile break through on his face.

“A cloak would be lovely.”

A brief negotiation later Liam and Jerem walked away from Chep’s wagon, with a certain spring to their step. Around them, the people were hastily readying their wagons for the day’s travel, but since it was their day off, they had the leisure to slowly stroll back towards their carriage.

“That worked surprisingly well,” Liam said.

“Of course it did,” Jerem grinned. “That guy is known for his pride and his childish feud with Egmont. He would do anything to deny the man business.”

“Well, I just hope we made the right choice still.”

“Chep might not be the brightest candle in the room, but he sure knows his work. I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you he is the best craftsman in the caravan.” Then Jerem gave him a sly smile. “You wanted one from the beginning, right?”

“What?”

“A cloak, you wanted a cloak from the beginning.”

Liam smiled. “Yeah.”

“So why did you tell him about a jacket first?”

“It’s a negotiating trick Blue has shown me. Start with something slightly unreasonable so that it looks like you’re moving in their direction when you change the trade. Makes them much more receptive to you.”

“He showed you quite some things then.”

Liam nodded. “Yes, it’s also how I managed to push the price a little. Negotiating is really easy once you learn a few tricks.”

A little was an understatement. Liam had haggled Chep down to accepting only five copper pieces on top of the rest of the beast’s body as payment. A true bargain.

“Tricks eh?” Jerem asked. “I’m sure Blue is full of them.”

Liam looked over to his friend. Did he just see a flash of distaste in his face? It was almost as if a few clouds had drawn over it for a second, but just as quickly as they came, they were gone again though, and the Jerem laughed again.

“Well, I’m just glad that we won’t have to tolerate the smell of your old tatters much longer then. They smell almost as bad as Barney’s farts when we had beef stew.”

Liam threw his friend another glance, unsure if he had just imagined the sudden mood shift, then he said, “Nothing’s as bad as Barney after beef stew.” And he laughed.

It was at some time during the afternoon that the soreness hit him.

His joints ached with every step and the muscles in his back screamed in protest if he tried to sit without a wall to help support his body weight. It made the wagon ride over the bumpy road a constant assault of painful jolts.

On the flip side, sleep had found him easier than it had in years. During his time on the road, his sleep had been almost blessedly free of nightmares. But there was still an underlying unease about sharing his sleeping space with so many other people. An unease strong enough to make him wake up a few times during the night.

Not this night though. Liam slept like a rock, deep and peaceful. He would’ve overslept if not for the years of ingrained instincts that urged him to rise early.

As bad as the soreness in the afternoon had been, it was worse in the morning. Liam sat in front of his shoes for multiple minutes, just staring at them, trying to muster his willpower.

The little walk and the cool morning air helped loosen his muscles, and by the time he reached Marten, he felt at least a little ready.

It was good that he did because Marten wasn’t taking any consideration for his condition. The only mercy the man granted Liam was an additional small break in the middle of their practice before they moved on to the kata section of their training.

Amazingly he felt better than he had before the training though. The soft easing into the workout had somehow softened his muscles and allowed him to move inspired by his swiftness.

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That didn’t mean it wasn’t torturous, only that Liam had managed to grit his teeth through it. No matter how hard it would get, he was determined to show Marten how much he could take. He wouldn’t yield to his workouts.

By the end of their session, Liam was gasping for air, soaked in sweat, and tired to the bone again. But he was also more than a little excited for what would come next.

Liam leaned forward, away from the tree he was slumped against. Marten cast his gaze towards the early morning sun rising above the treetops.

“The rest of the caravan will wake up soon,” he said.

Liam’s stomach dropped.

“I think we need to postpone the mana veiling techniques until tomorrow.”

With that he left Liam sitting there, dumbfoundedly staring after him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trake hated it when Bilby was pissed. He never bothered to hold back his aura amongst them then. And while they were all strong enough to withstand it, it was still highly uncomfortable.

He and Dular were almost on the same level as Bilby, so it was only natural that they could withstand his aura. Although the fact that it still made his hair stand on edge was somewhat unsettling.

He threw a look at the fourth person in the room. The only one present who wasn’t a cultivator, yet he didn’t seem bothered by the crackling atmosphere at all. How did Michael manage that?

„I need to know now and I won’t ask again,“ Bilby pushed each word out forcefully. „Did any of you bloodsuckers steal from me?“

„Of course not,“ Dular said. „We even were with you when it happened!“

„Well, can anyone explain to me then, why I have it on good report that some of my product was stolen by a cultivator? By my own estimation, I have every god's damned cultivator in this caravan collected here.“

His raised voice almost made Trake flinch.

„What about Marten?“ Michael asked calmly.

Surprisingly Bibly didn’t lash out at the man.

„Marten has other things to concern himself with.” His voice was surprisingly soft. “Besides, I also saw him when it supposedly happened. So he is free from doubt.“

„Bilby,“ Trake said, trying to keep his voice steady. „I even had some of my product stored with yours as well. Why would I steal it?“

„Because you’re stupid, Trake, that’s why.“

Trake hated it when people said he was stupid., It’s not like it wasn't true, because he knew he was sometimes. More than sometimes. But still, it hurt him a little.

“You know we didn’t steal from you Bilby,” Dular began again. “We were with you when it happened.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t hold an interrogation, does it?” His voice was icy.

“No… I guess-”

„At the same time,“ Bilby began again,“ I know you’re all too stupid to do something like stealing from me."

“So why did you get us here then?” Michael asked.

„I need you all to find out who the fuck is trying to mess with us. So that we can show him what it means to deal with us. Sad as it sounds, you pathetic fucks are the most competent people I have for this job.“

Trake threw a look at Michael and grimaced. He was sure who Bilby meant by pathetic, there was only one of them who could be counted as that.

“Find whoever is responsible, and do so quickly. I can’t take another disappointment from you. And Michael?”

“Yes.”

“Take some security measures from now on.”

“Yes, Bilby.”

Trake watched the exchange between the two. He watched not just how Bilby addressed Michael, the man without any powers, to do the job. He also watched how there wasn’t an ounce of fear in Michael as he talked to Bilby. He didn’t even flinch.

Trake hated him.

“Now go and find the dead man walking who dared to steal from me.”

Dular and Michael cleaned out immediately after Bibly’s dismissal. Trake stayed behind though. Eliciting a raised eyebrow from Bilby.

„What can I do for you Trake?“

It was asked in a nice way, almost gentle. But the air around them started to slightly crackle again. Trake swallowed.

„Some of the product that you lost was mine.“

„So you said before.“

„Well… seeing as it was insured under you, as it was in your wagon and all. I think I’m entitled to compensation.“

„Compensation?“ Bilby's voice turned cold. „Are you saying I lost your product?“

„In a way you did.“

Bilby stood up and slowly walked over to him. He flared his area. Trake suddenly felt like he was being stalked by a wild animal.

„Trake, Trake, Trake. I thought we were friends.“

„We are.“

„Friends don’t steal from each other, do they?“

„No.“

“Yet you’re saying I stole your product.”

“I didn’t say you stole it.”

“No,” Bilby ran his finger along Trake’s back. He felt charged. “You said I lost it, which is even worse. You’re saying that I took your product and then lost it. A friend wouldn’t do such a thing, would they?”

Trake wasn’t sure what to answer.

“So how can both be true Trake? How can we be friends and still I have lost your product? Doesn’t that seem contradictory to you?”

“When you put it like-”

“I can’t repay you Trake. But I can make you an offer. Find whoever is responsible, and I will compensate you.”

“How?”

“Well, how would you like to be compensated Trake?”

“I want to kill Michael.”

Trake immediately regretted the words as they left his mouth. He had spoken without thought, once again. He fearfully glanced at Bilby, afraid of what would come next.

The man only raised an eyebrow. “You want to kill Michael?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “Well, you can have that. Find me this renegade cultivator, and I will let you kill Michael with your own hands. I will even watch if you want that.”

Trake nodded. He very much wanted that.

“Good. Then what are you waiting for?” Bilby made Trake pause once again before he was out of the wagon.

“And Trake? Take any measures necessary. I don’t want you to hold back.”

Trake smiled. He wouldn’t. If doing this job meant he could finally put Michael away, he wouldn’t hesitate of anything.

As he walked out into the night, he felt more joyful than in a long time.