Ted dropped the body, letting it crumple to the floor. “I killed a slaver, and I learned how to release their victims. That a problem?”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode back to the remaining slaves. The magic in their collars was far too intricate to decipher, but at the bare minimum, they had long-range tracking—maybe even a kill switch.

While Cara and Gramok gossiped amongst themselves in hushed tones, Ted whispered “Roka’al Nor’ak” into each of the slaves’ collars. The collars flashed when he did so before coming away, granting the now former slaves the freedom they deserved. With that done, he dropped a quick message to Valbort to fill them in, and they informed him the wood elf was fine, albeit shaken.

The two human and the high elven slaves stammered out their thanks and fled north. The orc, however, remained. “We could use brave warriors such as yourselves.”

Ted’s throat closed up. They couldn’t afford to get bogged down in a war that wasn’t theirs. “Sorry. We have our own business to attend to.”

The orc eyed him up and grunted. “No doubt. Don’t worry about the bodies, I’ll handle them. If you change your mind, we could good people like you. We have a safehouse in Hallowed Falls. There’s a tannery on the north-east corner of Imperial Plaza, Stout Skins. Tell them Poltak sent you to collect the full-grain bracka leather.” With that, the orc bowed, flung the slaver’s corpse over his shoulder, and set off.

Ted’s stomach quivered, and his breathing refused to slow. There was no way they were getting tangled up with the Resistance, not while they had the Destroyer, the Divine Emperor, and Ragnarok to deal with. This world was all kinds of wrong, but that didn’t mean he had to be the one to fix everything.

And then there were those sideways glances from Cara and Gramok. Why were they still whispering to each other?

He strode over to them. “Come on. We’ve got to get moving.”

They glanced at each other, and Cara crept up to him like he was a dangerous animal on the verge of pouncing. “Are you okay?”

“I did what had to be done.”

“Torturing someone to death with Dark magic?”

“This isn’t a family picnic in the park—we need to fight fire with fire.”

“You fight fire with water, not fire.”

Ted’s left fist clenched tight. “Come on. We have a world to save.”

They continued north in silence. For a while, Cara remained by his side, before dropping back to Gramok and whispering conspiratorially with him again.

The lump in Ted’s throat berated him, while his mind replayed that moment over and over. The screams. The begging. The way his heart had thundered, radiating a warm joy that lifted him to the heavens.

He breathed in and out slowly, trying to wash his soul of that moment.

But he couldn’t. It had happened.

A chill ran down his spine. And he’d do it again, if he had to.

Was that wrong?

He held up his left hand and stared at it, trying to banish the doubt gnawing at his insides.

Trying, and failing. Damn it. He had to know.

He drew a sliver of mana and cast a Visibility spell on his new left hand.

Nothing. A slow smile spread across his lips. He was just doing what had to be done, that was all. No Dark magic making him do it.

And yet...

He bit at his lip, and came to a stop. He had to check.

“You okay?” Cara asked.

He ignored her and recrafted the Visibility spell, driving the potency as high as possible without dropping the effective stability below 100%.

With his heart in his throat, he recast the spell.

And there it was—magic as black as the abyss, woven into his left hand. A dark corruption woven into his very body.

He closed his eyes and visualized the Dark magic, focusing in on it. There—he could feel it now, pulsating with power, asking to be fed. It craved spirit, and souls, and offered power beyond reckoning in exchange.

It could be powerful. Useful. Dark magic would be a dangerous weapon against the slavers, against his father, against the Destroyer.

That's all it was, a weapon, nothing more. And wasn’t a weapon in the hands of the good guys better than letting the entire world languish as slaves to the System?

Ted resumed walking. “I’m fine,” he said, refusing to meet Cara’s insistent gaze.

Thankfully, she let it lie and fell back behind again with Gramok, leaving Ted in peace.

As they traveled, a sheer cliff rose from the horizon ahead of them. A waterfall gushed over the top, straddled by a city that sprawled from one side of the vast river to the other. The city's ornate stone buildings spilled across a huge, majestic bridge that arched across the river in a single span.

Discern Magic gave him nothing from so far away, but he didn’t need it to know that a stone bridge that size—at least a mile across, if not two—had to have serious magic behind it.

“Hallowed Falls,” Gramok said. “Beautiful on the outside, rotten to the core. Be on your guard, but it’s the only way up for miles.”

As they drew closer, the sun began to dip below the horizon, and the air filled with the rumbling of cascading water. Magical lights came on, illuminating the city and the sole path zig-zagging up the cliff.

A marble gatehouse sat at the base of the cliff, protecting the entrance to that path. The gate was open, but it was manned by over a dozen heavily armored soldiers and several mages, their white robes adorned with gold in a variety of gaudy ways,

A queue of gaunt figures dressed in scraps stretched out before the guardhouse, although it wasn’t clear exactly what they were waiting for. It wasn’t like the guards were doing anything but standing there, laughing amongst themselves.

Ted dropped back to the others. “How’s my Illusion?”

“Fine,” Cara said, barely even looking.

“It’ll do,” Gramok said. “Remember, no matter what you see, we need to keep a low profile. Understood?”

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Imagining what horrors lurked behind those walls didn’t make it a welcome prospect, but Ted nodded all the same. This wasn’t the Great Forest anymore—Dark magic was plentiful here, fueled by the suffering of slaves.

As they approached the guardhouse, Ted cast a Communicate spell upon the three of them.

Act like you belong, Gramok messaged, and make for the path up. Nod to the mages, but don’t look at the soldiers—they’re beneath you.

Ted did as he was told, strolling straight past the queue of commoners as if he owned the place. He nodded to the mages, they nodded back, and Ted kept going.

Disguise skill increased 1 → 2!

He spent a second point on Hidden Identity, improving the Disguise ability, and smiled to himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Wait,” came a woman’s voice—one of the soldiers.

Ted's brow furrowed, a flutter in his chest betraying the calm demeanor he needed to maintain. Pausing, he forced a scowl onto his face, and glowered at the lowly guard daring to interrupt him.

The soldier blocked Ted's path, removed her helm, and bowed her head. “Pardon the intrusion, Emperor’s orders. Purpose of your visit?”

Pain stabbed at Ted’s chest, and he clenched his jaw. He couldn’t afford to let even a hint of fear slip. “Business. Slaves, in particular.”

“Welcome, Merchant. And your companions?”

“My bodyguards. The roads are dangerous of late.”

“Very good. One last thing.” She pulled a roll of parchment from behind her back and unfurled it. She proceeded to examine the parchment, looking between it and Ted’s face.

Heat pounded through his veins. If they were rumbled, he’d have only a few seconds at best to get Gramok and Cara to safety.

“I’ll need you to drop your Illusion, sir.”

Ted eyeballed the mere soldier like he’d never eyeballed before.

It didn’t help. “Emperor’s orders, as I said, sir.”

This was it. Ted swallowed hard, prayed the disguise was good enough, and dropped the Continuous Illusion.

The soldier held the parchment up, and her eyes narrowed as her gaze darted between examining the it and burrowing into Ted’s soul.

Weight crushed down upon Ted as the seconds stretched out, stabbing at his gut. What was taking so long?

The soldier's unblinking stare made his skin prickle. Was she stalling because she knew? Was she waiting for backup?

Her grip on the parchment tightened, and her neck went rigid as a pole, but the other guards were still chatting nonchalantly as ever.

Ted’s muscles coiled, desperate for something, anything, to break the tension. “What is the hold up, soldier?”

The guard lowered her parchment, her eyes flicking away as she pressed her chin to her chest. "You're clear. Have a nice day, sir."

Disguise skill increased 2 → 3!

“Very good.” Ted clamped down on the relief threatening to shudder through him, and he strode through the open gate with as boldly as he could muster.

Nicely done, Cara messaged.

The path up was smooth and easily wide enough for two carriages to pass. They walked three abreast, and not even Cara’s presence beside him was enough to make Ted’s pounding heart slow. That was too close.

Cara took his hand in hers and held it tight. We’re through. We should find somewhere to rest.

Ted squeezed her hand back. Agreed.

As they reached the top, the city came properly into view, lit up like it was Christmas by a dizzying array of magical lights. Shops lined both sides of the cobbled street, their magically lit signs proudly offering different wares, with hundreds of customers noisily enjoying themselves.

Mental intrusion detected.

Magic permeated everything—the smooth flagstones underfoot, the colorful shop walls, the common and exotic wares on display. Even the very air carried an unnaturally delightful pine scent. And underneath it all was the unmistakable background of a Portals-suppression field.

Memories of Valbort stabbed at Ted's chest, and his fists clenched. He wasn't going to let this trip end the same way. We won’t be able to Teleport here, guys.

They continued on down the street. As they walked, messages threw themselves into Ted’s mind, demanding to be heard.

Marcus’s Potions—best in the seven realms!

Gintor’s Goods, cheapest in the city!

Siloir’s Boudoir, Fine Clothier Extraordinaire!

Razor’s Edge! For all your stabbing, slashing, and piercing needs!

Ted shook his head and chuckled, unsure what to make of the swelling sensation in his stomach. It was like being closer to home and further away than ever, all at once. “Need to do any shopping?”

“Ooo!” Cara pulled her hands in, clasping them both to her chest, while her steps positively bounced. “Yes!”

Gramok glanced at Ted’s distraught face and chuckled. “I think he was kidding.”

“Can we? I’ve never been in a store!”

Ted’s stomach fluttered. But of course—the Woods Elves didn’t use money, nor did they have a load of frivolous crap no one really needed. We’re trying to fly under the radar, here.

Her head tilted, and she stared at him with a furrowed brow.

We cannot draw attention to ourselves.

I’ll be discreet!

Sure you will. Ted pointed to the six-story building that loomed on the corner of the street, inviting customers in with its brightly painted pillars and a parade of golden statues that gleamed under the warm magical lights. “How about that store?”

Cara stared at it, admiring the beautiful building. After a few moments, her eyes widened, her fists clenched, her hands shook, and she turned a scowl on Ted. A slave market?

“Come on,” Gramok said, “the taverns are this way. We need sleep.”

Ted stroked Cara’s back. This isn’t the Great Forest. We can’t afford to let our guard down.

It’s huge. Massive. There must hundreds of slaves in there!

A knot pulled at Ted's insides. The thought of hundreds of lives being traded like mere objects made his skin crawl, but storming in there and freeing them was not an option. We can’t do anything for them.

We have to try.

He took Cara’s hand and guided her in the direction of the taverns. We can’t. Until we stop the dungeon spawn, that has to be our priority.

She shot daggers at him with her eyes, but came along. Fine. But when we have, we’re coming back.

Deal.

As they continued along the street, shops gave way to houses, leaving behind the gaudy messages and the crowds of people. The houses here were simple, built of a dark gray stone, and lacking in even simple Protection enchantments.

“I’m sorry,” Ted said, squeezing Cara’s hand.

She glowered at him through narrow eyes. “About what?”

“Taking you away from the Forest. Kissing you. Making you come here. Stopping you killing every slaver you meet.”

“You didn’t make me do those things.”

Quiet, messaged Gramok as he gestured down a side street.

A chill ran down Ted’s spine. A checkpoint blocked the road, manned by a dozen soldiers led by a mage. A crowd of people were huddled behind it, waiting for their turn.

The mage called up the group at the front. He cast several Telepathy spells upon them while one of the soldiers looked on, occasionally glancing down at a piece of parchment he was carrying.

From this distance, Ted couldn’t make out the exact spells, but he didn’t need to.

Mind readers, said Gramok. Keep moving.

They walked along to the next junction, and the next. Each had a similar roadblock in place.

Gramok emitted a low growl, his posture rigid. They’ve blocked off the tavern district. Once night falls properly, we’ll stand out like a minotaur at a dance. Ideas?

We could leave? Cara said.

No, Gramok said. Leaving after sunset would light us up like a flare.

Ted’s breathing quickened. The only idea he could think of was terrible.

Following Gramok, they looped back around, the silence thick with unspoken worries. As darkness crept in around the few magical lights, the streets emptied of people.

More patrols emerged from the shadows, each comprising four soldiers and a mage. The clank of their armor and the rustle of their movements sent shivers down Ted's spine.

Cara glanced nervously at Ted, pointing to one of the patrols. They had flagged down a random group of humans and were now interrogating them. We can’t wander around like this all night.

Agreed, Ted said, doubting that his Illusion and Disguise would hold up to a sustained investigation by a mage. But what’s the alternative?

Cara gave him a pointed look, her eyes boring into his.

Ted shifted uncomfortably. The same course of action that he was avoiding had to have occurred to her as well, even if she didn’t dare be the first to broach it.

It was a dangerous idea, and one that would only get them more embroiled in a fight they couldn’t afford. But what other choice did they have? No matter how he wracked his brain, it was the one reasonable course of action left.

Following Gramok’s lead, they arrived at the biggest square yet. At the center was a huge golden statue that faced away, lifting a regal scepter to the heavens.

Ted’s teeth ground together, his jaw aching from the pressure. He couldn’t see the statue’s face, but he didn’t need to. The oppressive weight of its presence was enough.

Gramok came to a stop and looked toward the northeast corner of the plaza, at the Stout Skins tannery. Unless you have a better idea, we need help.

Silence. No one wanted to be the one to give in and be the first to broach it. Whatever help they got from the Resistance would come with strings attached. Entanglements to problems that they could ill-afford.

Ted let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the decision. But what choice did they have? He looked to Cara and Gramok. Their expressions were equally grim, but neither rushed to make the choice.

Fine. He’d do it. Let’s go see the Resistance.