Junil woke up. Her sleepy eyes flickered over to the window. Sunlight was streaming through the curtains, illuminating the room.

It was already late in the morning. She had overslept.

Why was oversleeping bad? It took the Healer precisely five seconds to remember the events of the previous night to explain why.

“Oh, shoot!” she exclaimed, jumping out of the bed. It took the Healer precisely twenty seconds to ready herself: Using a quick spell to wash her face, grabbing her staff and wand scattered on the floor, and burst out the door of her room.

“Ronn! Sorry, I overslept! Why didn’t you wake me up?” she exclaimed, bursting right into the room that the Hero was sleeping in.

Or rather, allegedly sleeping in.

The bed had been completely made.

“He left without me?” Junil muttered. The Healer lifted the sheets, to feel that they were cold.

“That Hero woke up early without alerting me!”

Junil ran out the room and down the stairs. She was going to head to Fraul’s office, but noticed the Mage’s assistant on the way down.

“Sila!” Junil exclaimed, pointing at the assistant. “Where in the world is Ronn? Did you see him go somewhere this morning?”

Sila shook her head. “I didn’t see him at all.”

Junil muttered a string of curses as she made her way to Fraul’s office. She bypassed the assistant to open the door directly into the office, only to find that nobody was inside.

“Where in the world is Fraul?” Junil yelled out to Sila.

“I think she’s in the warehouse district,” the Mage’s assistant said. “But she was going down there for important business, you shouldn’t bother her—”

“Don’t care, thanks for the help!” the Healer exclaimed. Of course Fraul would be in the warehouse district, she was stockpiling aluminum or whatever that metal was.

Junil basically flew out the front door. Her shoes skidded on the brick-paved road as she made a quick turn, to run in the direction of the warehouse district. The Healer pushed past groups of people, of whom she was able to catch bits of conversation from.

“...Aluminum’s higher than we’ve ever seen...”

“Projected to go above the price of platinum!”

“Have you heard? Potions at the port have just been all bought up! More are coming, shiploads!”

The Healer was already hating all the discussion over Fraul’s aluminum business. Did the folks here speak about anything else other than that? She brushed past them, having to circle around a crowd gathered in front of a bulletin board.

“...I’m rich! Rich now, I tell you!”

“Hey, where’s Madame Fraul? I wanna cash out now!”

“Don’t, you’re gonna miss out if it keeps on going up!”

Fraul had somehow found a whole town of idiots to go along with her idiot scheme. Junil felt a little bad for them getting conned like this. On the other hand, the Healer would probably lose any sympathy she had if she was forced to stay in those crowds for any prolonged period of time.

The Healer spotted the walls that divided the inner town from the outer warehouse district of New Frontierland. She ran through it quickly, the streets for the familiar Mage, until—

“Fraul!” Junil exclaimed. “There you are!”

“Huh?” the Mage asked. She just so happened to be walking down the main street of the warehouse district. “Junil? What are you doing out here?”

The Healer skidded to a stop and took a second to catch her breath. She doubled over, as sweat dripped from her face.

“Well? Get on with it,” Fraul said. “I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finally, the Healer pointed a finger up to interrupt the Mage. Then, she glanced up.

“I have no idea where Ronn is!” Junil exclaimed.

“And that is my problem, how?” Fraul asked.

The Healer grit her teeth and was about to espouse some unflattering insult. But she paused, remembering what Ronn had said earlier: Insults weren’t going to bring the Healer any further to getting Fraul to help. Junil bit back the harsh words that almost escaped her mouth.

“I just need that spell you used, if you haven’t seen Ronn at all,” Junil continued. “The one you used to detect the Demon Lord’s sister!”

“That one?” the Mage asked. “Did you forget? It cost two high-quality potions to use. Don’t tell me that you want me to just pop another two, because you’re not gonna be able to convince me like Ronn.”

“What?” Junil asked. “This is important! I have no idea where Ronn is, he went off without me!”

Fraul tapped her boots on the paved stone road, and shook her head. “Oh, how bad! And, unfortunately for you, that is not my problem.”

The Mage started to step past the Healer. However, before she could, Junil remembered that she still had one option left at her disposal.

“What if I went to the press with your scheme?” Junil asked.

Fraul’s eyebrows shot up, before her face shifted to a scowl.

“Don’t you dare even suggest that,” the Mage threatened.

“I can and I will, Fraul. You don’t scare me.”

Fraul tapped her staff twice on the brick-paved road. “Junil, as good of a Healer as you are, I surpass your offensive magical capabilities by several dozens of times. Not only will we be confronting each other in a public square, but you’ll also be publicly humiliated. By me.”

Junil, meanwhile, stashed her wand in a pocket. She rolled up both of her sleeves and punched her fists together.

“Who said it was going to be a magical battle, Fraul? Are you implying you want to duel right here, right now?”

It was a bluff. Junil was hoping to threaten the Mage into conceding. However, Fraul was smart enough to correctly call that bluff out.

Namely, by firing a barrage of four stinging spells directly at the Healer.

Junil was just quick enough to bring her wand back out. Another four quick-firing spells, fired in rapid succession, blasted from the end of Junil’s wand. All the stinging spells slapped against Junil’s spells in midair, crackling before dissipating into smoke.

Debris on the roads were kicked up by the gusts of wind that came along with the barrage of stinging spells, the dust getting in her eyes.

“That’s it!” Junil yelled. “I’m gonna sock you in the face! Right now! C’mere!”

A crowd had gathered to witness the impromptu duel between the Mage and the Healer. However, before the two could fire off anything else at the other, the sounds of crashing from the buildings behind Fraul caught their attention.

“What was that?” Fraul asked, turning around.

Junil used this moment to her advantage and, with a tightly clenched fist, punched the Mage directly on the side of her head.

“Ouch!” the Mage yelled. “Junil, I swear—!”

The Healer was already making her way away from Fraul, towards the commotion in question.

And then, seemingly from out of an alleyway, a familiar apricot-haired Demonfolk girl hopped out. She looked left to right, before her gaze landed on Junil.

The Demonfolk girl’s eyes glimmered as she smiled at the somewhat familiar face

“Jun-ar!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed. “Nice to meet you!”

Junil was about to say something, but the Demonfolk girl looked behind her. Her tail shot up in surprise, before Sollar scurried away from the alley.

“Wait!” Junil exclaimed. Out of curiosity, the Healer peered down the alleyway that the Demonfolk girl had run out of, for just a moment.

And there was Ronn, who was literally pushing his way through the alley that would’ve been too narrow to fit him otherwise. Both walls of the alley were crunched outwards as the Hero literally forced his way through the narrow corridor.

“Ronn? What the...!”

Junil wasn’t sure what she should think at first. However, she soon figured that being in front of Ronn while he was advancing forward like that was probably not safe.

She side-stepped the alleyway as Ronn burst from it. The walls of the two adjacent buildings had been crushed outward, and the moment Ronn managed to push through was also the moment that bricks and various pieces of splintered wood scattered all over Junil.

The Hero almost didn’t stop for the Healer to rub the dust out of her eyes.

“Ronn, wait!” Junil yelled.

The Hero gave her a single glance.

“Junil!” he exclaimed. “Follow me! We are right on the Second Coming’s tail!”

“Wait, what are you saying!” Junil asked, as she ran after the Hero.

The Demonfolk girl, Sollar, had entered yet another alleyway, directly opposite of the one she had just left. This one was just barely wide enough for Ronn to fit through, as he ran straight through a multitude of crates and barrels that had been stashed there. The Healer followed him, ducking and jumping as entire crates of merchandise were tossed over her head and flung onto the ground before her.

As the chase continued, a particular Demonfolk General had been gradually making his way back to Sollar.

General Forge had just secured tickets to one of the fast ships. In one hand was half-eaten meat pie, and in the other were a few others he had bought.

The Demonfolk General raised an eyebrow the moment he saw the mess on the street ahead. He looked from left to right, where the debris went from one alleyway to another.

“What happened here?” he asked.

He would be interrupted from his musings by the Mage, who had been attracted to the scene by all the noise of crashing, too. She recognized him the moment she took notice of the Demonfolk General.

“You!” Fraul yelled, lowering a finger directly at General Forge.

“What?” General Forge asked.

“You’re supposed to be working!” the Mage exclaimed. “Didn’t I say you weren’t allowed to leave until you managed to get all those crates in the warehouse?”

“Wait, hold up,” the Demonfolk man replied. “I was just out getting some food. What’s wrong with that?”

Unbeknownst to the two, Sollar had doubled around the next street that the alleyway she was in opened up to. She ran up the street, then into the partially open doors of one of many warehouses.

Ronn immediately followed her into the building, while Junil struggled to keep up.

Sollar scrambled over a multitude of crates and wooden boxes, dodging while running. Ronn, meanwhile, angled his shoulder to smash through every single one of those boxes. And, in the process, the boxes burst open to scatter bars of aluminum, which spilled all over the ground.

Sollar had gotten to the end of the warehouse, which faced the main streets. Her eyes flickered from the locked door on that end to one of the windows that were up higher off the ground.

She scrambled up the wall, her nails digging into the wood, as the Demonfolk girl scaled twice her height just to get to the window. The moment she got up there, she pulled herself through, before landing on the other side on her feet.

Sollar landed just in time to witness an argument between Fraul and General Forge transpiring on the main road.

“...And I explicitly told you to keep on working ‘till you were done! By sundown!” Fraul yelled.

“What, are you saying lunch breaks aren’t a thing?” General Forge asked.

The Mage bared her teeth at him. “Did I ever say they were?”

The Demonfolk General frowned.

“Huh, no wonder your own workers are striking,” General Forge replied. “Because no self-respecting laborer would even consider working for you!”

“Oh you—!”

Fraul had grabbed her staff, and General Forge had grabbed his wrapped halberd. It seemed like the two were about to do something rash, but Sollar interrupted the two.

“Forr-ar!” she yelled. “We need to run!”

“Huh?” General Forge said. He glanced over to her. “Wait, you’re done already? Didn’t I tell you to stay put—?”

“Run!” she yelled.

“What?” the General asked. “Run? From what—?”

He got his answer, as the Hero destructively emerged through the doors of the warehouse that Sollar had just exited. A shower of aluminum bars and wood rubble scattered all across the ground, littering the streets and stealing the attention of everybody on the street.

There was a collective gasp from all the witnesses. Not from the insane amounts of property damage, but from the fact that bars of aluminum were being scattered all over the road.

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General Forge thought he could hear a shout of horror from the Mage, but he didn’t have time to contemplate that; he needed to get away from the Hero now, because the Hero looked very angry right now.

“Oh shoot!” the Demonfolk General exclaimed, as he began scrambling away. Sollar, wisely, decided to run after him, away from the bloodthirsty Hero that was right behind her.

The thing was, Ronn wasn’t after General Forge. He was after Sollar. So, he continued chasing her down the street.

The Demonfolk pair continued running, passing the walls that marked the boundary between the warehouse district and inner New Frontierland. However, looking right behind them, General Forge could see that the Hero was gaining on them.

“Sollar!” General Forge exclaimed. “This way! This way!”

He pointed into another alleyway for the pair to go to. General Forge brought his arm out to catch on a lamp pole; he used his running speed to swing around directly into the alley, and Sollar mimicked that action.

Seconds later, Ronn bowled over the lamp pole. As he turned, his metal boots dug into the paved road below him. Following him was the Mage, who gave heaving, tired breaths, and Junil who was trying to also keep her pace.

“Ronn... Ronn, wait!” Fraul yelled, trying to catch the Hero who was now already halfway down the street. “Ronn, all this... the aluminum—!”

The Hero couldn’t make out her words, as he had been completely focused on going after Sollar. He was completely ignoring the poor Mage, who was witnessing her aluminum scheme getting revealed to everyone in broad daylight.

Fraul was torn between trying to stop people from witnessing the mess, and trying to stop Ronn from causing any additional damage. The situation was still salvageable, since the warehouse districts wouldn’t have as many witnesses as inner New Frontierland.

But, when the Mage saw what was up ahead, she recoiled in horror.

Up ahead was an intersection, with a wagon full of crates going through it. And there was the very familiar stamp of Fraul’s company logo right on the side of the wagon and every single crate on it.

Both Sollar and General Forge spotted it and continued running at the wagon. General Forge, who was in the lead, jumped over the wagon. Meanwhile, Sollar ducked, scurrying between the wheels of the wagon. The Demonfolk girl immediately looked behind as she continued running, to see if the Hero was still pursuing her.

He was, and a wagon wasn’t going to stop him. Ronn proceeded to angle his shoulder while making a beeline for the wagon, and smashed directly through it.

One loud crunching of wood later, the wooden cart came to an abrupt stop, severed down the middle. Crates flew into the air, some crashing onto the ground and shattering apart. The aluminum ingots of the boxes were revealed, to almost everyone on that street, in the span of seconds.

Fraul, in the meanwhile, was clutching her head in disbelief. She was trying, and failing, to keep up with the Hero.

“Ronn! Ronn, wait, Ronn you’re ruining everything! Stop this at once!” she pleaded.

Despite that, there wasn’t anything Fraul could do to stop both Ronn and Sollar collectively disassembled her aluminum scheme in broad daylight.

That was when she decided to stop, in an attempt to calm the crowd of astonished people who were looking on, while simultaneously attempting to cover up the aluminum that was now all over the streets... somehow.

Using the chaos of all the rubble, wood shards, and aluminum bars flying everywhere, General Forge ran around a corner and grabbed Sollar’s arm to pull her out of sight. The two pressed themselves against the wall, holding their breaths as the Hero passed right by them.

They waited another ten seconds, watching as the Hero continued running ahead. Then, General Forge released a breath.

“I think we lost him,” the Demonfolk General said. “But let’s go—”

He stopped.

Junil had stopped right in front of the two. She was leaning over, heaving from the exhausting run.

She just so happened to glance over to see the two Demonfolk that had just duped the Hero.

All three remained still, the only sounds being the clamoring crowds trying to figure out what was happening.

“I should be stopping you, shouldn’t I?” Junil asked, after catching her breath.

General Forge nodded, instinctively

Junil didn’t need to be asked twice, and leveled her wand at Forge.

General Forge ducked, still holding onto Sollar’s arm.

The Healer then blasted off a handful of stinging spells.

The Demonfolk General’s intuition had barely saved him, as all the spells went whizzing over his head. Some spells went astray due to Junil’s panicked accuracy, pinging off the brick wall and hitting the ground, nearby windows, and other walls.

General Forge ran in the opposite direction that the Hero had run, and took cover behind a different wagon that was on the other end of the street. Sollar ducked behind the wagon with him.

Junil was not letting up. She refocused the aim on her stinging spells and fired another barrage. It hit the wagon again and again, sending shards of splinters everywhere with every hit.

One spell went off and smacked into the gas street lamps that the wagon was carrying. A particularly familiar Wisp woman, who had been on the wagon, stumbled off.

“Hey!” Winnsol yelled, getting back to her feet. “Watch where you’re shooting, you—!”

General Forge had snatched one of the streetlamps that fell off the wagon. He peeked around the side of the wagon and, reeling his arm back, flung the streetlamp like it was a spear. His target? The Healer.

“Wait!” Winnsol exclaimed, pointing at the Demonfolk General. “It’s you! I knew you were trouble! Get your hands off those lamps—!”

General Forge grabbed another streetlamp to fling at the Healer, but Junil had wizened up and closed the distance between the two. She was now too close for him to throw it at her. So, instead, the Demonfolk General swung the streetlamp at the Healer.

She narrowly ducked it, then fired another few of her stinging spells at him.

One made its mark on the Demonfolk man’s shoulder, but General Forge merely winced. Then, he swung the lamp again.

The streetlamp embedded itself in the wood of the wagon, right beside the Healer. Junil had barely managed to step out of the way. There was an expression of shock, as though she couldn’t believe that the streetlamp was currently where she had been mere moments ago.

However, she collected herself, and used the incapacitated streetlamp to her advantage. Junil leveled her wand directly at General Forge’s face, and unleashed a stinging spell directly into his eyes.

The Demonfolk General could shrug off a stinging spell to his shoulder. One sent directly into his eyes? That was a different story.

“Yeouch!” he yelled, jumping back. The lamppost remained where it was, embedded in the wagon.

“Blasted Healer, what in the world is wrong with you?” the Demonfolk General shouted, rubbing his eyes to try to rid them of the stinging sensation.

Junil was about to fire more stinging spells, but she was tackled by Sollar before she could level her wand at General Forge again. Both Healer and Demonfolk girl tumbled to the ground.

“No hurting Forr-ar!” Sollar yelled. The Demonfolk girl threw a few weak punches at the Healer. Junil, in the meanwhile, was simply laying down, surprised by the tackle.

General Forge managed to recover from the stinging spells. Rubbing his eyes one last time, he could hear the sounds of heavy footsteps again, coming from the alleyway that the Hero had run down. The Demonfolk General immediately glanced down the alleyway.

The Hero had turned around and was barreling in their direction.

“Milady, let’s go!” the Demonfolk General said, pulling her off of the dazed Healer.

General Forge basically dragged Sollar through the next alleyway, to the main street, as the two stepping over planks of shattered wood. They emerged out on the main street, to see the Mage trying to gather the bars of aluminum that were now all over the ground. She was also trying to placate the growing crowd.

“This— this isn’t what it looks like!” Fraul exclaimed.

General Forge ignored the stuttering woman. She seemed unlikely to be a threat.

They were never going to outrun the Hero on foot, especially going downhill towards the docks. The two needed to get to the fast ships before the first wave of them departed, so General Forge looked around, frantic for a possible solution.

General Forge spotted a crate-filled wagon, placed on a flat loading dock next to a building. It had been balanced in such a way that a single push could probably send it down the road going towards the ports, which was how the Demonfolk General thought up a plan.

It was a stupid plan, but it could feasibly work.

“Lady Sollar, this is gonna be like a ride on the boat,” General Forge said. “So get on the wagon!”

He pointed at the wagon.

“What?” the Demonfolk girl asked. “But it’s not like the boat. There’s no water!”

“It’ll feel like it!”

General Forge picked Sollar up, despite her protests, and then tossed her right into the bed of the wagon. At the same time, he pushed his back against the wagon, to try to push it onto the downward grade that the road was sloping into.

General Forge could feel the wheels starting to touch on the incline. But he also knew that he was barely going to have enough time to get it to start rolling.

The Hero was making a beeline for them.

General Forge muttered a string of curses, and then decided that the slow start the wagon picked up was enough. He jumped up onto the wagon himself, landing on some crates within the wagon, and braced for the Hero to strike.

The Hero crashed right into the back of the wagon. A loud crunch sounded as wood splintered, but the wagon held on. In fact, the Hero’s push was just enough to get the entire wagon forward. Both General Forge and Sollar were jostled by the boost, as the wagon started rolling faster.

General Forge stared at Sollar, in shock. Both were laying in the wagon, on opposite sides.

“I can’t believe that somehow worked,” he muttered.

Almost.

The Hero’s broadsword cleaved right through the middle of the wagon, with General Forge and Sollar to the left and right of the sword respectively. The Demonfolk General could see his own reflection on the blade, which he stared at for just a fraction of a second, before he scrambled away.

“Get off of us!” General Forge yelled. He flung several of the crates at the Hero, many of them splintering upon contact with his armor and shattering. The contents, which just happened to be aluminum bars, scattered all over the streets.

Ronn was not deterred. He raised his sword again, ready to bring it down on Sollar.

“Lady Sollar, no!” the Demonfolk General yelled. He reached out his arm, but wouldn’t be able to get to her quick enough.

It wasn’t necessary. Ronn’s blade had been stopped on its way down, with a loud clash. Sparks showered left and right as Sollar effectively parried the strike.

That pose between Sollar and Ronn persisted for five seconds, before the Hero began lagging behind the wagon. Sollar, too, lowered her shovel.

Ronn eventually could not keep up to pace with the accelerating wagon. General Forge breathed a sigh of relief as the distance between them and the Hero increased. And, for good measure, the Demonfolk General started tossing several of the crates in the wagon out the back, to try to slow the Hero further. The boxes were breaking upon impact, scattering even more aluminum bars across the street.

“I think we’re safe...” he muttered. “For now, at least.”

“Water!” Sollar exclaimed. “We’re going to water!”

“For the last time, Lady Sollar,” General Forge started. “We’re not on a boat—”

He looked to where Sollar was pointing, which was the end of the busy street. People were jumping out of the way of the wagon as it whizzed down the road.

The road itself continued as part of a large, wooden pier on the docks. The pier itself had plenty of obstacles, most of them crates that were being offloaded from a cargo ship. And, at the end of the pier itself, was water.

They were headed straight for it, and were showing no signs of slowing down.

“Oh, dang it!” General Forge asked. “Are there brakes on this thing?”

He looked around, but couldn’t find a lever or anything that resembled a set of brakes.

“There’s no brakes? Seriously? None at all?”

Giving up the search, the Demonfolk General glanced at the direction the wagon was rolling. They were still speeding in the direction of the docks.

“We should jump off,” Sollar said. “It shouldn’t be hard!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lady Sollar, you’ll get hurt!” General Forge yelled.

The Demonfolk girl grabbed him by the shoulders, regardless.

“We jump!” she yelled.

Then, she proceeded to throw the both of them right off the side of the wagon, right as the wagon made it onto the boardwalk of the dock.

The two rolled around, limbs tangling with the other, before they smacked against a bollard. General Forge was the one who took the hardest hit, and groaned in pain at the handful of bruises he had now accumulated on his arms and back.

Sollar, on the other hand, appeared to be completely unharmed.

The wagon did not stop. Men and dockworkers ran or jumped out of the way as it continued heading straight for a large stack of crates halfway down the pier.

Both the wagon and the crates practically exploded the moment they made contact with one another. The wagon smashed through the first few crates, splitting them open and scattering bottles and vials of potions all over the ground. Some of the glass vials shattered, spilling the contents all over the wooden pier.

Despite destroying one stack of crates, the wagon continued its rampage forward. It hit another large stack of potions. This time, the wagon was the one to give out. Both front wheels buckled inward and collapsed, as the rear of the wagon was thrown up. The various crates within the wagon flew upward and downward. They split open upon contact with the boardwalk, scattering more bars of aluminum everywhere.

Dockworkers and sailors ran for cover as the surroundings were showered in shards of glass, wood splinters, and heavy bars of metal. General Forge rubbed his head, specifically the area around his broken horn which was the sorest, before grabbing Sollar by the hand.

“Sollar, let’s go! We’ve gotta get out of New Frontierland, and our ship is departing soon!”

General Forge pushed through the crowd that had gathered on the docks, with Sollar in tow. The docks for the fast ships weren’t far away, but they had to run through scrambling crowds of people who were pushing through the docks.

“...Aluminum scheme might be fraudulent!”

“I need to sell before it all goes down!”

“What was that Mage doing—!”

General Forge and Sollar had finally reached the port. By then, a near-stampede of people in New Frontierland were centering on the road where the disaster took place.

The fast ship was waiting there, and it seemed they were concluding the boarding process. General Forge hurried into the line, the two being at the very end.

“Lady Sollar, let’s go! Let’s go!” General Forge yelled.

They soon got up to the ticket booth, with an unamused-looking man waiting behind the booth.

“Two tickets?” he asked.

General Forge handed both tickets over, and the person at the ticket booth used a hole puncher to punch holes in both.

“You’re good to go,” the ticket attendant said, handing both tickets back. “Just caught us in time. Closing up!”

Both Demonfolk girl and Demonfolk General made up the gangway plank, the wood creaking beneath them.

“Let’s go! We’re heading straight to the Capital!”

They were soon on the deck of the ship. Only then did General Forge notice that something was off with Sollar.

“Lady Sollar, you’ve Flared...”

He didn’t notice it earlier, due to all the commotion, but it was certainly something he could notice now. Her eyes were returning to their normal color, same with the skin on her arms.

“Flare?” she asked, tilting her head.

“Sollar, you don’t feel... tired in any way?”

“Nope!” the Demonfolk girl replied. “C’mon, I wanna explore this bigger boat! Before we get to Luth-ar!”

The two steadied themselves as the ship pulled itself out of the now chaos-riddled New Frontierland dock. It seemed that even large incidents like this didn’t slow the fast ships, but both General Forge and Sollar could see crowds of people converging on the street where all the aluminum had been scattered.

Fraul was not as lucky as the two. The exhausted Mage had finally gotten back to the old house she was basing her operations out of. She was exhausted, having to have used a lot of potions and magic in an attempt at picking up the aluminum bars strewn across the road.

She couldn’t pick all of them up.

Fraul felt dread, though. Especially when Sila walked up to her with a clipboard in hand.

“The market price for aluminum has crashed, Madame Fraul...” her aide said.

“...It crashed?”

“Yes. Rumors spread that you were hoarding the aluminum... so everyone began selling.”

“Rumors,” Fraul muttered. “I... I’m guessing it has something to do with the mess earlier? I employed security to tighten up access, didn’t I?”

“Not tight enough, evidently,” Sila continued. “But this was in part because of the Hero...”

“The Hero?” Fraul asked. “No, no, no, no...! He didn’t say anything, did he?”

“He did not, no,” Sila continued. “But his involvement in the mess has legitimized it. The printing presses are trying to publish the breaking news as quickly as possible. As for the aluminum market... it is irrecoverable.”

That was when it hit Fraul as to how bad this was.

“No. No!” she yelled, clutching her head. “I’m ruined! All those loans I need to repay back! How am I going to do it now?”

“You can still sell the aluminum you have left...” her assistant tried to say.

“Fool!” the Mage yelled. “If I tried selling now, the price would become cheaper than dirt! I’ll lose money employing people to ship it to the buyers! No, this is terrible!”

“The loans... they can’t be that bad, are they?” Sila asked.

Fraul had given a shell shocked stare to the assistant.

“...They’re that bad, are they?” Sila continued.

“Yes. And the payments are due in a few days...”

Fraul sighed, then looked over to a box of potions that was still inside the building.

“At least... at least I still have all of those stockpiled potions to sell,” Fraul said, her voice weak. “The potions market is still strong, right?”

“About that, Madame...”

“What?”

“The trade ships full of potions had arrived earlier today and finished unloading their potion shipments. A lot of them were the special-order ones, too, but when they saw that you might not be able to pay...”

Sila grimaced

“They’re currently dumping the potions on the market. Prices there have also plummeted. All our potion assets are valued at single-digit percentages of their original buying price now.”

Fraul crumpled to the ground. She simply stared at the sky, as Sila stepped up to her.

“Madame Fraul? Are you alright?” her assistant asked.

“I’m ruined!”