Sewer

Fraril and Grash walked forward through the sewer as quietly as possible. It wasn't entirely inaudible, as there was water in some areas of the canals, so the sounds of water disturbance could occasionally be heard, but Grash didn't think it would matter. They weren't unusual sounds, after all; there were rats in the sewers.

Fraril moved cautiously, his pointed wolf ears constantly moving as he paid attention to their surroundings. He couldn't rely completely on his sense of smell at the moment, as there were many strong scents, but he could rely completely on his hearing.

Grash followed him casually, but that didn't mean he was making noise. Smooth movement was second nature to him; he was part cat after all, so even if he looked like he wasn't trying, he could still move quietly.

Fraril would occasionally stop at crossroads, but it didn't take him long to find a direction to head. As they continued, the sewer they followed seemed clearer and more used; they also hadn't encountered any large puddles of water lately.

Eventually, they reached the part where the door was closed at the end. Slowly, they approached it, and Fraril kept an eye out for traps but could not detect any. Either there were none or they were too expertly hidden, but he was a professional, so he believed there were none.

They moved to the door, which they inspected. The door was steel and solid; a normal person would have to work hard to open it. Fraril touched it with one hand and found it to be a watertight door, probably a containment for if the sewers flooded with water, or conversely a hidden trap to drown intruders.

Fraril concentrated, but despite his sharpened senses, he could only vaguely make out that there were voices. He frowned, unable to think of any subtle way they could get in.

Bang!

Bang!

Fraril flinched at the sound of the metallic thuds and opened his milky white eyes, which were fixed on Grash, who let his hand drop after pounding on the metal door. Grash turned his head to him, curiously tilted to the side. "What?" he asked.

"You understand the reason we're sneaking around, don't you? What are you doing?" Fraril was angry, but he spoke quietly and calmly.

"We need to get in anyway, and there's no other way. Just take it easy, old wolf. I got it." Grash smiled.

Fraril wanted to kick the cat. "You..!"

He fell silent as he heard someone on the other side of the door move and quickly increased the distance, but Grash stayed put and hooked his thumbs comfortably in the pockets of his tight pants. The door opened abruptly to reveal the elven twins behind it, weapons at the ready. Then Grash raised his hand to show them his raised middle finger, which was wrapped in Dark Mana.

When the twins saw this, they lowered their weapons.

The twins looked at Grash for a moment before wordlessly turning and heading back. Fraril cautiously approached again, and Grash threw him a mocking smile. "Told you, this place smells like home."

Fraril thought for only a moment before he understood what he meant. "Dark mana?"

"Yeah, yeah. It smells just like the place where the Well of Dark Mana is located. Normally, places like this are occupied by a Dark Mage." Grash shrugged.

Fraril felt like kicking the cat again. Couldn't he have said that before? But he just sighed because he had to admit he hadn't been listening to Grash much when he said this place reminded him of home. After all, in the time he'd been traveling with him, he'd found that Grash had a habit of announcing unnecessary and obvious things.

Grash chuckled and walked through the door, this time followed by Fraril.

The room was darkened, but it no longer looked like part of the sewers. More like some old burial catacomb or underground ritual place. The walls were of grey stone with built-in niches decorated with engraved frescoes, but most of them were damaged in some way.

But what was more striking was the sheer number of people there. Along the walls were rough wooden lions on which sat figures of various sizes and shapes. Some were moving slightly, but others sat completely still. The hall was filled with them, and there was a single archway at the back from which the brighter light spilled.

Grash and Fraril approached one of the walls. Grash had stopped moving so casually, and he too was surprised by the number of people there. But his eyes first fell on the damaged frescoes. Fraril took another look at the people around him and shuddered a little inwardly.

They weren't actually real people but puppets and marionettes. The ones that moved a little had a faint amount of mana in them, yet the ones that were immobile were simply puppets. The scary thing was that a good portion were indistinguishable from real people.

image [https://cdn.leonardo.ai/users/e70a625f-a29f-469a-912e-d78c50e456f1/generations/2d0e18d4-76cd-4b65-a9e8-f4a57883aa44/Default_A_dimlylit_expansive_subterranean_chamber_the_lair_of_3.jpg]

Fraril lightly touched the cheek of one of the puppets and immediately recognized the difference in material. Despite the fact that it looked like real leather to the touch, it was as hard as wood. He looked around and saw that the twins had sat down on a bench against the wall, leaning against each other slightly, and had stopped moving.

Grash was again intrigued by the frescoes, which, though damaged, were still roughly recognizable. One of the frescoes showed the likeness of a woman wearing a crown, so probably some sort of ruler. Another showed several people bowing before her, and she was pointing at something with her hand outstretched. Another fresco showed two identical-looking queens standing facing each other with weapons in their hands, and the last fresco showed one of the queens, Grash couldn't tell which one, lying dead on the ground. Then the sequence of frescoes repeated again.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

As they proceeded backward to the passageway, Grash saw that the frescoes kept repeating until they ended above the arched doorway where the last fresco was above it. Again, the queen, holding some sort of round sphere in each hand, melded them together as if trying to connect them.

Grash scratched his head, not really understanding. It looked like some sort of fight between two sisters, and the way it kept repeating meant it was some sort of tradition? Grash wondered what royal family had such a funny way of choosing a successor when they let siblings have to kill each other.

He finally turned his head away and took a breath, for he could smell the distinct scent of Dark Mana as they approached the passage. Without thinking about it, he rushed forward only to find himself in the workshop.

The workshop wasn't that big; in fact, it looked like a former bedroom of some sort, only all the furniture had been replaced by tables that looked more like torture instruments. Various parts of puppets or half-assembled puppets lay on the tables—some just wooden, while others looked very real, almost like dismembered corpses.

Grash's eyes immediately wandered to a small hole in the floor at the back of the room. It appeared that someone had violently ripped out the stone blocks to reveal a black puddle under the floor. Grash found that the well with the Dark Mana was smaller than the one they had in the caves, but size was not important. Rather, it was the depth that was important.

However, Fraril, who also entered, focused first on the two people who were in the room. Those two were the only ones who were actually alive.

A man and a woman stood in the room.

The woman was rather thin, perhaps unhealthily so, but her red eyes were very lively. Her black, short hair was slicked back and disheveled. Her ears were a little pointed, but not as much as the elves.

Fraril could tell she was a hybrid. Her skin was a little pale, accentuated by her black outfit of loose-fitting robes with pointed shoulder pads that highlighted her thinness rather than being flattering. Her attire was adorned with several golden ornaments and a red baroque collar.

image [https://cdn.leonardo.ai/users/e70a625f-a29f-469a-912e-d78c50e456f1/generations/df32eca5-ce72-477e-82be-61dc6351d140/Default_A_sinister_and_manipulative_woman_master_puppeteer_dep_1.jpg]

At least the man didn't look so skinny, but rather solidly built. Fraril could tell they were siblings. The young man had the same black hair as his sister, though it was longer and pulled back into a short ponytail. His eyes were the same red, and his ears were slightly pointed, but his skin had a slightly reddish tone. He wore a similarly black cloak, but this one had red trim and a white baroque collar.

Fraril guessed then that the other half of the race was a Dark Elf. It was an odd combination, a cross between a High Elf and a Dark Elf, but Fraril didn't think much of it. He had seen all sorts of hybrids in his life.

image [https://cdn.leonardo.ai/users/e70a625f-a29f-469a-912e-d78c50e456f1/generations/64fb69b2-d4c4-46f7-9490-46c76cc09a1a/Default_A_sinister_and_manipulative_woman_master_puppeteer_dep_1.jpg]

Both siblings had strange smiles on their faces and paid no attention to Fraril. Instead, they watched Grash, who finally tore his gaze away from the Dark Mana Well and looked at them.

"Welcome, brother," a woman greeted him.

"It's been a long time since we've seen another Dark Mage," said the man.

After a moment, Grash stuck his finger in his ear and fumbled a bit inside. "Hey," he greeted. "I'm Grash. And this is my dog," he nodded icily at Fraril, who just cocked his head a little at the words.

"I'm Bortea, and this is my brother, Bartolomeo," Bortea introduced them.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, can I use your well?" Grash said impatiently, pointing his finger.

"Ah? And why should we?" Bortea wondered.

Grash looked at her. "For brotherhood?" he suggested. She finally greeted him as a brother, so he gave it a try.

"Well, I don't know. What do you think, Bartolomeo?" She turned to her brother, who in the meantime had started playing with the mannequin's head.

"I don't think so. He's following that woman," Bartolomeo replied.

Bortea nodded and looked at Grash again. "There you go. The answer is no."

Grash sighed. "Oh, man! You're being pretty nasty to someone you called brother!" he protested. "What do you have against Kitty?"

Bortea and Bartolomeo looked at each other in silence, in what seemed to be a quiet exchange of words that only two siblings who were very close to each other would have. Then they looked at Grash again with those strange smiles.

"He doesn't know."

"I'm sure he doesn't know."

"That's funny."

"I want to laugh."

"How ridiculous our little brother is."

Grash was quite used to others mocking him, so he remained relatively calm, but his sensitive tail began to wag in displeasure. "I don't know what again?" he wrung his hands helplessly.

"That you follow Disaster," Bortea replied, and Fraril raised his head a little when he heard that.

"Your mistress is a walking Catastrophe," Bartolomeo added.

Grash tilted his head in confusion and remembered Eliz. Kitty is a walking Catastrophe? He considered it for a moment before shrugging. "I don't care."

"What?"

"Huh? Are you crazy?"

The siblings wondered at that answer. Grash pointed a thumb at himself while resting his other hand on his hip, a big smile appearing on his face. "I don't fucking care! I'm having the time of my life! I don't care if she destroys the world or whatever! It'll be a hell of a spectacle! I live for fun and excitement like any Dark Mage should!"

Everyone fell silent after his confident declaration; the sound of dripping water could be heard somewhere in the distance. Bortea looked at her brother again.

"Our younger brother is retarded," she said.

Fraril mentally agreed.

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

In front of the Lucian Protection Brigade

Eliz and her group stood in front of the building, her arms folded across her chest, one foot tapping the ground impatiently as she looked around.

They had been standing there for almost half an hour, but Grash and Fraril were nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell are they?" Eliz complained in frustration. She had expected the two to be waiting somewhere hidden, and if she saw them outside, they would come after them. But there was no sign of them.

"Miss Steel Magnolia. I am a busy woman. Shall we go?" Olliena, who was with the group for some reason, was looking at them and also had a look of displeasure on her face.

Eliz snorted. "You insisted on coming with us, and I'm not going anywhere without the rest of my people. Feel free to go on your own if you want."

Olliena frowned and remained silent. She had no choice. She had to release this group and still issue them temporary passes, which solved a tricky situation. However, she still had no confidence in this group, so she decided to follow them for a while to see for herself what their intentions were.

Unfortunately, all they'd done so far was stand still, and time was running out. If Olliena had known, she would have sent someone else. She glanced back at the building behind her, wondering if she should do it yet.

"What shall we do, my lady?" Holm asked.

Eliz pondered for a moment. Now she wished she still had the Dog Nose achievement. She could just sniff out Grash, but like this? Where the hell are they? Worse, Eliz was starting to worry that something might happen to them. She looked down at her ring that confirmed her slave contract with Grash. If he died, she should know it.

Then she looked at the large city around them and bit her lip. "We'll keep going. Finding them in this city is impossible." She turned and furrowed her brows grimly.

If they didn't show up by the time they got to Shannon, Eliz would have to ask the World Tree to find them. And if she had to do that and spit out one of her rewards, she'd punish them both severely when she found them!