Five minutes of leisurely chatting, a few seemingly innocent questions, and I already knew not only the address where Phoenix Shaym lived but also the name of his housekeeper and even what his new lover looked like. It became immediately clear that Itran, to put it mildly, didn't particularly like his colleague. After feigning sympathy for the Artifactor Guild employee about being paired with such an irresponsible person, I shifted the topic to discussing the weather. Just as we agreed that the rain would undoubtedly pour until nightfall, the branch head returned.

"Thank you for waiting, Om Raven," said the mage of Sapphire. "I have conducted the assessment. Four of the artifacts are familiar to us. However, the last one raises questions. There is nothing like it in the records I have studied."

"The cover?" I clarified.

"Exactly. By the measurements of its emanations, the artifact is weak, on par with the bowl or the dagger, but its purpose..."

"Will this affect the amount of my reward?"

"I can offer you two options," the mage said, inclining his head. "First, I send the artifact to the central branch, where more experienced masters will assess it."

"How long will that take?"

"From two weeks to three months."

By Ain's standards, that was fairly quick, but it didn't suit me, especially since I suspected the main purpose of the cover was to conceal the bracelet beneath it.

"And the second option?"

"A standard price based on the power of its Dark emanations, plus a small bonus for bringing an artifact previously unknown to us."

"This option I like more," I concluded, feigning a greedy smile.

"Well, that's even better." The mage responded with a smile of his own, which, in contrast, was quite genuine and understanding.

Three very small coins were placed on the counter in front of me. Each weighed about two grams, and the surface was stamped with an image of the main building of the Trade League. I took the one closest to me and held it between my fingers. I passed mana through it, then prana. In both cases, I didn't feel any resistance or energy loss. Pure mithril. Each of these was nominally worth a hundred gold. Taking two coins from the table, I left the third and said:

"I'd like to exchange this for ninety-five gold and two hundred and fifty silver."

The third mithril coin disappeared into the sleeve of the branch head. A short nod from the Sapphire mage, and the trainee girl brought the requested amount.

"It's always a pleasure to work with your Guild." I got up from my seat and bowed.

"We are always glad to see you at our Guild." The artifactors responded in unison.

"And one small request," I addressed Itran after his boss left. "Can I leave my spear with you for temporary storage? Until evening, no longer. I don't want the rain to ruin the tip." In reality, Striking Whisper was too conspicuous, and I'd preferred to get rid of it for a while.

"Sure, I'll put it under the counter." Itran extended his hand. "If I do get replaced, I'll leave a note about it."

Handing the spear to the artifactor, I said my goodbyes and stepped out into the pouring rain. I deliberately wandered through the city, wrapping myself in a cloak and pulling the hood over my eyes. There was almost no one on the streets, as the raging elements had turned into a storm, forcing everyone to hide under roofs and not show their noses outside.

Finding Phoenix Shaym's house wasn't too difficult. I passed by it several times, pretending to look for shelter from the rain. And then I witnessed a curious scene.

A portly woman, whom even I would have trouble hugging, burst out of the house that interested me. According to Itran's story, she was the very housekeeper who served Shaym. The woman shouted something fiercely while standing on the threshold, then slammed the door loudly. Judging by how the door bounced back from the impact and then reluctantly closed on its own, the owner of the house didn't bother locking it.

After letting an unexpected couple of passersby go by, I let the "Shadow Cloak" envelop me and slipped to the door. I waited for a flash of lightning and the subsequent thunder, then quickly stepped inside the house. The oil lamps in the corridor had long since burned out, and no one had refilled them, so I was greeted by thick twilight. Trying not to make any noise and carefully feeling each floorboard before stepping on it, I climbed to the second floor, from which muffled cursing could be heard.

As it turned out, all my precautions were unnecessary. The owner of the house was busy trying to scratch his back. He was rubbing against the corner of a cabinet with such ferocity and noise that he clearly couldn't hear anything around him.

Slipping behind him, I knocked out the "sufferer" with a precise blow. Then, I tied him up with a sheet pulled from an unmade bed, slung his unconscious body over my shoulder and went down to the basement. About the presence of this basement I had been told by Itran, who hinted that his partner liked "rougher" carnal pleasures and had specially equipped the underground floor of his house so that nothing happening there could be heard from the street.

"Da'Nnan's pervert," I grimaced, examining the basement's setting.

Itran was not mistaken; Phoenix was clearly a fan of rough sex. The characteristic whips on the walls, something like an X-shaped rack by the wall, and many other details all pointed to this. The lack of even minimal blood smells indicated that this was definitely not a torture chamber, and everything that happened here was most likely done with mutual consent. Besides, an executioner's tools look different, not like the toys hanging on the walls.

Tightly closing the massive, soundproof door behind me, not forgetting to slide the heavy bolt into place, I chose not to invent anything and placed Shaym on his own rack, tightly binding and thoroughly searching the unconscious thief. After that, I brought the guy to his senses with a few resounding slaps.

"What are you doing in my house!" Phoenix screeched, clearly recognizing me.

"Wrong words," I said angrily and drove my fist into the thief's solar plexus.

"You're done for!" Shaym shouted again after catching his breath.

"Wrong words," another punch.

"You won't get out of here!"

"Well, you got the idea," I smirked and broke his nose.

This time, the guy remained silent. Apparently, he realized that this was no game and decided to keep quiet. But I knew how to make him talk. Tearing a piece of fabric from his clothes, I ran this scrap over his bare chest. Phoenix endured for about ten seconds and then screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Hey, scratch me! Scratch! What does it cost you?!"

In response, I silently tore off the sleeve of his shirt and ran the fabric over his shoulder.

"A-a-a-a! Nulgle's spawn!!! Sidhe's foundling! Better kill me!"

Well, no, he wasn't going to get off that easily. The shirt's fabric tore again, and the tickling fabric playfully ran across the lad's belly. The new scream was so strong that if it weren't for the thick door and the soundproofing arranged by the house's owner, all the neighbors would have come running.

The guy deserved some credit. He held out for almost half an hour, but in the end, he gave in. Apparently, he had been taught to endure pain, but the unbearable itching was something he couldn't withstand.

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"I'll answer all your questions! All of them, just stop!"

As a reward, I took one of the whips from the wall and scratched his forearm with it.

"How is Katasakh involved in all this?"

"Who?" He wasn't lying; it was clear he was hearing this name for the first time.

Such an answer could only mean one thing: Shaym was nothing more than an executor.

"Never mind. Who tipped you off about the bracelet?"

"I received the order! And a complete description! I was also told where and when to find you. They made me drop everything! I even had to take an emergency leave and cancel a date!"

"Details."

"There's nothing to tell!" But the flick of the light fabric in my hand loosened his tongue. "I received the task. I passed through the Gates. I stole what I was told to, and returned the same way." Understanding flashed in his eyes, and he growled. "It was you! You! You put this unbearable curse on me!"

"No. It's your own fault. You shouldn't have taken that expensive fabric."

"A-a-a-ah!!! As soon as I touched it, I immediately knew it was that very cotton the nobles dream about! That piece was worth at least thirty gold!"

"It was worth twenty." I smirked. "But why did you take it if you were only after the bracelet?"

"Greed," Phoenix muttered, feeling very sorry for himself.

Summoning Affinity with Light, I said:

"Not even the main temple of Elai can cure this scabies." The guy's eyes filled with an animalistic fear. "And only I in all of Ain know how to ease your suffering and make the scabies go away."

That was it. The guy was completely broken. He believed me, and I really wasn't lying - I just wasn't telling the whole truth. Removing the Sign of Affinity, I sat down next to the rack:

"Talk. From the very beginning, if you want to be cured of the curse."

And he started talking. Gasping, crying, feeling sorry for himself, and cursing fate. He rambled, jumping from one thing to another, but in less than a third of an hour, the whole picture became clear.

In the entire Rur region, there wasn't a single true Altar of Seguna left. And the head of the Thieves' Guild, headquartered precisely in Bordum, decided to fix this by basing his actions on an ancient legend. This legend stated that if many artifacts of a particular god were gathered in one place, a new altar would eventually form. Not a true altar, but its power would be enough for the deity to hear the prayers addressed to it. In my opinion, this legend was utter nonsense, but even this lad truly believed in it.

Representatives of the shadow guild of Bordum scoured all over Ain, collecting Seguna's artifacts, and they involved all their free people in this "work." How many artifacts the Thieves' Guild had already gathered, the lad didn't know, as he was just an ordinary member and held a low rank in the brotherhood. Even more curious was that Shaym was a witness in the deal between Katashi and that merchant who ordered bracelets from the Japanese for his daughter. And because of his perverted inclinations, the guy always needed money, so he stole the stones from Kay, hoping to resell them later. No one even thought of him, an official representative of the Artifactors' Guild, when they were looking for the thief. Phoenix also revealed that this wasn't the first time he had committed such thefts. After all, it was so convenient to know where certain valuables were stored, rather than acting blindly and on someone else's tip.

"Where are the stones now?"

"The third brick from the bottom and the fifth from the right," the lad nodded to the left wall. "There's a stash there."

"If there's a trap there, you understand, I hope, that you'll be doomed to this scabies forever." Since I had long since removed the Sign of Affinity with Light, lying came easily to me.

"Ah!! Yes, there's a trap! The real stash is on the other wall!!"

That was better. Though, I didn't trust his words and, before opening the stash, checked it in every possible way.

"How much did you take from Edi?" I asked, examining the items lying inside.

"From whom?"

"Under the floorboard in the room where my backpack was."

"Twenty-seven gold! Or twenty-nine! I didn't count exactly!"

"Good." Then, after thinking for a moment, I took not only Katashi's stones but also all the money from the stash. It turned out to be just over forty gold. "As moral compensation," I smirked, pouring the money into my purse. "And now the main question... Where... Is... My... Bracelet!"

"I don't know! I don't know! I gave it away! I gave it away!"

"To whom?" I growled.

Phoenix Shaym didn't have time to open his mouth before a bloody blot blossomed in the center of his forehead. In an instant, the guy's head exploded, splattering the young thief's brains on the walls.

"It is so hard to find decent executors," I heard a colorless voice behind me.

Without making any sudden movements and keeping my hands visible, I turned around. Near the door, leaning against the jamb, stood a blurry figure, whose outlines constantly changed in the light of the oil lamps. And yet I remembered bolting the door. But this detail did not stop the unexpected visitor, and he entered the basement so quietly that I didn't hear anything until he spoke. The stranger was clearly an adept of Shadow. I recognized this "Shadow Veil," a spell that makes it difficult for others to focus on you, making them want to look away. This magic had saved "my" life several times in the Last Cycle.

"I agree. There is always a problem with executors," I nodded.

"You give a man a task. Pay him well. Provide him with a real target," the master of Shadows of the Ruby Step shook his head. "And what does he do? He pilfers. And how? In petty ways! Failed the mission over some rag and brought a tail."

"Twenty gold is twenty gold," I looked at the visitor and realized that I wouldn't leave this basement alive. But instead of fear, indifference washed over me. "The guy was young, into all sorts of things," I nodded at the walls. "Big expenses."

"What did he manage to tell you, Sheriff?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Your answers will determine how easily you die," the master of Shadows answered me directly.

"I'd prefer a longer death."

All plans for how I could escape and defeat the unexpected opponent fell apart due to the colossal difference in Ranks and the fact that all I had was a dagger. It's not like the whips hanging on the walls could be considered weapons, right?

"So, you don't want to play nice, Sheriff," the stranger peeled off the door frame and demonstratively began to flex his hands.

"Is that a threat?" A stupid question, I was just stalling, involuntarily fingering the Guild Sign.

"Do you hope the possible curse for killing a Sheriff of the Book will scare me?" The smirk of the master of Shadows dripped with venom. "Know this, there is no curse for killing a Sheriff. That's just another tale. And no one will avenge you. That sphere you're touching with in your left hand, thinking I won't notice. Even if you crush it, the other side will simply find out that you broke it. Nothing more. No exact location, no reason why you did it will be understood on the other side. As for possible revenge..." He laughed. "In an hour, a person who looks like you and is dressed in your clothes will walk into the busiest tavern in town. They'll order drinks for everyone, rough someone up to be remembered for sure... And then this person who looks like you will leave town, be noted in another town, and then in another, until they disappear without a trace somewhere in the vast world."

"An interesting perspective." Like before an important performance in the past, I started yawning from nervous tension. "But you didn't answer. Are you threatening me?"

"Do you think you're tough?" The crunch of his knuckles made my teeth ache. "I've broken tougher ones than you. And believe me… believe me… you won't die before you tell me everything."

"Threats are so banal." I found a way to get out of here alive, and the nervous yawning subsided, allowing me to smile. "After all, I have to respond to them."

"Really? How interesting! A Wootz Warrior is threatening me? Me?!!"

The stranger began to laugh, sincerely, passionately, but within ten seconds his laughter stopped, and the Shadow Adept took an involuntary step back. He no longer smiled, not taking his eyes off the Sign hovering over my palm.

"If you kill me, you die too. And the whole city dies. Everyone dies." I said quietly, admiring the Achievement-Curse granted to me by Nulgle, which, if you looked closely, revealed that when I died, I would immediately rise as a Plague Zombie of Mithril Rank.

Standing up, I demonstratively brushed off an imaginary speck of dust from my shoulder:

"Now that we've exchanged threats, maybe we should just talk?" I took a step forward, and the Adept of the Ruby Rank backed up, pressing his back against the massive door. "Would that be better?" I smirked at him and removed the Sign. "What about this?" And over my palm hovered the Shadow of my Affinity. "Maybe we can still come to an agreement, brother in Shadow?"

To the stranger's credit, he quickly composed himself. Detaching from the door, he asked in a calm voice:

"Come to an agreement about what, brother in Shadow?" I caught a slight note of sarcasm in his words.

"You have something that belongs to me. And I have something to offer you."

"You, a Sheriff, have something to offer me?!" The Shadow Adept's smile resembled a wolfish grin.

"How about an Altar of the Night Lady?" The eyes of the head of the Thieves' Guild of Bordum widened, and I added, "A True Altar. A Forgotten Altar. The location of which I know."

"A Forgotten Altar?" Like a broken echo, repeated the master of Shadows.

"Yes. Lost. Forgotten. And most importantly, Living. True."

Above my palm, the Sign of Affinity was still wavering, and a barely perceptible wave of energy emanated from it. The man standing opposite me nodded, not taking his eyes off the Symbol of Affinity hovering over my hand. His behavior changed drastically. Moving away from the door, he approached the dead body hanging on the rack, spat on it, and only then turned to me:

"Where?"

"Bracelet?" I responded with a question.

"It's not with me."

"Well, no means no." I shrugged.

An identical to mine Symbol of Affinity with Shadow appeared above the palm of the Thieves' Guild head.

"In the name of the Mistress of the Night Cool, I swear to return the bracelet to the Sheriff of the Book."

"Today, before I leave the city," I clarified.

"Today, before the Sheriff leaves the city, the bracelet will be returned to him."

The shadow over his palm obediently "nodded," confirming the Word. This word could be broken, unlike an oath at the Altar of Kamo, but the violator would lose Seguna's favor. Forever. So I nodded and said:

"Agreed. As for the Lost True Altar, it is located…"

I left the house of the suddenly deceased Phoenix Shaym, smiling broadly. And no rain could spoil my mood. Not only had I managed to get out of this unexpected mess alive. Not only would they return what was stolen, plus a hundred gold coins as moral compensation. But somehow it turned out that I also seemed to close Seguna's quest to find a Priest for the Lost Altar, which was buried in the ruins of the ancient city of Belgran…