Talax was looking around perplexed. They had ended in a dead-end, at the furthest place at the side of the cavern were huge pillars rose to the dark ceiling. Edward, the older noble, paced in front of one such pillar as if searching for something. After a few moments he crouched with a groan and retrieved a device hidden among the dense grass.

The silver device pulsed with light and Talax noticed the outline of a symbol pulsing with mana. The device radiated light for a few more moments and then as if a curtain was drawn the landscape changed drastically.

Talax blinked in confusion, feeling like his eyes were deceiving him from the sudden change. Instead of the rocky pillar that previously stood, like a huge stony finger, now there was a narrow corridor that opened up in a small clearing, surrounded by the sheer walls of the dungeon.

Small pools of waters lined the small clearing, illuminating the space with a spectacle of color. Small insects that radiated color fleeted about, their wings shimmering in the pools' reflection. The ground was covered in soft, velvety moss, and delicate, bioluminescent flowers sprouted here and there, casting a gentle, magical glow.

Edward, the older noble, stood beside the newly revealed passage with an air of satisfaction, his gaze unwavering. He held the silver device loosely in his hand, its pulsating light now dimmed. He turned to face the group with an impatient expression, as if the transformation of the cavern was a routine occurrence for him.

The group entered the corridor and as they entered the camp Talax noticed two men. The two men waiting at the camp were having the time of their lives. They sat haphazardly on a weathered fallen log, sharing a bottle of spirits, deeply immersed in their cups. They were crooning an old, bawdy tune with their off-key voices about a promiscuous barmaid who liked to perform several acts only with her ample bosom.

Upon seeing his companions in their inebriated state, the noble lord let out a growl. One of them seemed to hear the rough noise, as his eyes darted towards their position, and he quickly stood up, offering a respectful bow.

The other man appeared momentarily confused by his companion's abrupt change before spotting the lord and attempting to stand up as well. However, in the process, the bottle he was clutching fell to the ground with a clatter, startling the intoxicated man. He teetered precariously, nearly tumbling face-first into the dirt, but his buddy's rough hands managed to steady him.

"Callum, explain yourself!" the lord barked. The slightly less intoxicated man began to respond but was interrupted by his companion, who seemed unaware of the lord's anger and jumped in to provide an explanation.

"Me lord, ye ain't given us no orders," the red-haired man slurred, his words laced with a thick, rustic accent. He waved his hands with gusto, as if to emphasize his point. "So, we started talkin' 'bout our ol' glory days, and we got to drinkin' one or... " He glanced at his friend, struggling to recall the count, "four, five? O' that elvish piss... it burnt so good!" He exclaimed, patting his chest and then fumbling around for something.

"Where's me bottle?" The man bent over clumsily and unceremoniously collapsed with a drunken whoop.

"Callum!" Franny's uncle growled, and the man's eyes, which had been fixed on Ferdinand, returned to the older man. "Get yourselves cleaned up. We're leaving in half an hour." The man nodded in obedience and hurried to assist his friend.

Vesperine materialized out of nowhere, her steps as silent as death, and she directed her words at the noble. "Edmund, I've got something to attend to. I won't be long," she declared. Casting a playful glance at Talax, she added, "Don't worry, sweet cheeks. You won't have to wait too long for me." With a mischievous wink, she blew him a kiss and disappeared into thin air.

"What the..." Talax exclaimed, astounded. Watching her activate her stealth skill and vanish right before his eyes was nothing short of astonishing. He struggled to maintain his own stealth within the shadows of the lush forest, but Vesperine possessed such a high level of skill that she could vanish even when multiple sets of eyes were fixed on her.

He shook his head in wonder and came to the realization that he had a long way to go in mastering such abilities. Meanwhile, Franny's uncle moved to the side and took a seat on a rock. He carefully unsheathed his broadsword from his back, placing it gently on his lap. From a small bag at his side, he produced a small rug, and with a flick of his hand, a vial of black oil leaped out of the bag as if summoned. Talax realized that the man had a dimensional bag, much like his nephew.

The noble lord began tending to his sword with meticulous care, treating the weapon with the reverence and appreciation of a seasoned warrior. Talax settled down in a cross-legged position while Qalo assisted Franny in removing his armor and changing his clothes. Their hushed arguments and complaints faded into the background as Talax's attention was drawn to the two newcomers. He knew nothing about them and felt compelled to observe them closely for a while.

Callum, a tall man of middling age, possessed a weathered face that bore the marks of numerous adventures and experiences. His attire consisted of a simple yet practical leather armor, which, despite a few scratches, appeared well-maintained. Talax's eyes caught sight of a sizable bow at Callum's side, almost double the size of his own, but to his eyes it looked plain and simple. It lacked the polished gleam of his own weapon and didn't emit any mana that would hint at enchantments.

Turning his attention to the other man, Talax noted that he was shorter, with fiery red hair touched by the first hints of white at his temples. His slim physique looked deceptively fragile, but his exposed, well-muscled arms told another story.

The man bore the marks of countless brushes with death, with small scars adorning every visible patch of skin. His leather armor, unlike Callum's well-crafted and maintained outfit, appeared old and threadbare. However, it was the menacing metal pauldrons and kneecaps that caught Talax's eye, each adorned with several spikes capable of inflicting pain on anyone who ventured too close.

Currently, the man appeared far from menacing. After downing a potion, he flopped onto the ground and stared into space with a vacant eyes. Talax's musings were interrupted when he heard Edmund's voice. Without looking up, the older man issued a command. "Callum, come here."

The bowman immediately leaped to obey his superior, though his gait was unsteady. Nevertheless, he looked much improved, with clear eyes and restored balance.

"You know I hold you responsible for what happened, right?" the noble inquired without looking up.

"Yes, my lord. I should have shown more restraint. It won't happen again; I'll make sure of it," Callum responded earnestly. Edmund nodded, displaying his affection for the broadsword he carefully placed beside him, much like a father with his child. Then, he rose to his full height, towering over Callum. In an unexpectedly swift motion, he delivered a sharp slap to the man with his gauntlet-clad hand.

The slap resounded through the camp, a shocking and brutal sound that seemed to cut through the air. The sickening noise of metal tearing through flesh made everyone present look up in horror, even the drunken Walter, who watched the unfolding scene with wide eyes.

Callum crashed to the ground with a pained moan, clutching his injured cheek as blood flowed freely. Talax, his mouth hanging open, found himself unable to form a coherent thought, paralyzed by the brutality of the act. He watched in dumbfounded disbelief as Callum crawled on the ground, his voice trembling as he implored the lord for forgiveness.

With an air of cold detachment, the noble lord calmly took his seat and resumed his previous activity as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The audacity of the lord's actions left Talax seething with anger, his sense of injustice burning within him. He stood up, his rage simmering, not entirely sure of what he intended to do. All he knew was that he couldn't remain silent after witnessing the cruel treatment the men endured under the lord's rule. He was on the verge of going over to confront the obnoxious noble when he felt a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Talax, would you kindly assist me in gathering some herbs so I can brew a potion for my skin?" Franny's tone appeared casual, but there was an insistent tugging at his sleeve. For several seconds Talax stood there, undecided whether he should follow Franny or go after his uncle.

In the end, he allowed Franny to lead him away from the camp. As they moved further from the others and lost sight of the rest, Franny whirled around, his face contorted with fury. "What in the name of Avass do you think you're doing?" Ferdinand demanded through clenched teeth.

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Talax let out a sigh and placed two fingers on the bridge of his nose, attempting to regain control of his temper.

"I despise your uncle!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration. "He's an insufferable, entitled piece of shit!" Franny’s cheeks puffed out in rage, even the curse words that usually left him off balance weren’t enough to quench his anger for Talax.

"I don't care how you feel. He holds a title, he's a lord! Therefore, you will show him the respect he's due!" Talax placed his hands on his waist and confronted Franny.

"Even if he's behaving like an ass?" he demanded. Instead of backing down, Franny closed the distance, bringing his face closer to Talax's. "Who are you to judge a noble? You're a simple peasant! You don't have the right to criticize those above your station."

Talax felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It was as if he had been struck by lightning on a clear, sunny day. Franny, his friend, regarded him as beneath him, simply because of his noble status. Until now, their relationship had been unaffected by their differing stations in life; it hadn't even crossed Talax's mind. But Franny appeared to hold a different perspective, and that revelation cut deep. The pain was evident on Talax's face, and he wasn't quick enough to conceal it; Franny saw it.

"Talax, I..." Franny began, but Talax raised his hand to stop him. "I'd better go find those herbs... Your lordship..." Without uttering another word, he turned and strode off towards the nearest trees.

He walked for what felt like an eternity, his thoughts in turmoil. He didn't know what to make of it all. On one hand, Franny had been a kind and generous friend, always ready with advice or aid, willing to risk his life to help them. He had saved Qalo's and Talax's lives on numerous occasions, diving headfirst into danger without hesitation when his friends needed him.

On the other hand, there had always been a hint of arrogance and condescension in him, but Talax had attributed it to his privileged upbringing. Occasional bouts of obnoxiousness were easily brushed aside with a curse word or a firm retort. However, now that he had joined his uncle and experienced the world of nobility again, Talax couldn't help but fear that his friend might change. Would Franny intervene if his uncle deemed that Talax deserved a harsh punishment? Or would he stand silently by?

Talax let out a sigh of dejection, his emotions still in turmoil. Despite the time he had spent away from the camp, he didn't feel any better about the situation. He abandoned his efforts to collect his thoughts and realized he had been gone for quite some time. As he contemplated returning to the camp, a peculiar aura sent shivers down his spine.

It was an instinctual reaction, a sense of dread that washed over him, as if he knew the aura but couldn't quite place it. He debated whether to head back to camp or satisfy his curiosity. Ultimately, he chose the more sensible option: to venture into the dark forest, teeming with bloodthirsty creatures, and search for the presence that had set his teeth on edge.

He didn't have to walk for long. After just a couple of minutes, he spotted Vesperine kneeling in front of a moss-covered rock. Talax barely took a step in her direction when the masked woman spoke up.

"Puppy? Did you miss me so much that you came looking for me?" Her voice dripped unexpected hostility. Talax could hear the sloshing sound of liquid and noticed her hands moving, but since she was facing away from him, he couldn't see what she was hiding.

"What are you doing?" His suspicion was evident in his voice, and he made no effort to hide it.

The woman burst into a maniacal laugh and stood up, seemingly unfazed by his presence. Her movements were erratic, and the slight tugging on her sleeves only added to her unsettling demeanor.

"You're such an obedient little puppy, aren't you?" she remarked with a twisted grin. "Maybe I should keep you after all." Talax grunted in response, his unease growing.

"I sensed a presence here. Who was it?" His demand fell on deaf ears as Vesperine waved her hand dismissively, her eyes darting around with manic energy. She responded in a mocking tone, "Oh, darling, my magnetic charm draws all sorts of attention. It's a shame, really. I often find myself having to 'put down' my little admirers just to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet." She clicked her tongue theatrically as she sauntered past him, her deranged laughter lingering in the air.

Talax narrowed his eyes at her passing form and trailed behind her, determined to get some answers. "I've felt that presence before," he informed her, his voice laced with a touch of unease. When he received no response, he pressed on, "I couldn't quite place the aura, but I know it's not anything good." The enigmatic woman continued to ignore his inquiries and instead began posing questions of her own.

"I'm thinking of changing my name. Vesperine is a little... I don't know... ominous," she mused aloud. She glanced back at him, as if waiting for his reaction, but he only glared at her. "No? Too on the nose? How about 'Cutie Pie'? 'Snugglebug'? 'Sweetpea'? 'Honey Bunny'? 'Lovebug'? Any of these? No? I can keep going." Her threat seemed to fly over Talax's head.

"Why are you wearing a mask?" His question finally prompted a reaction. Vesperine froze in mid-step for a moment, then resumed walking as if nothing had happened. Talax was prepared to ask another question when she finally responded.

"The mask is a gift from my order," she explained, allowing her words to linger in the air before continuing, "Let's say it's the mandatory uniform of the initiates." Talax hadn't expected her to give him a straight answer, and it took him a moment to process her words.

"What order? Like some secret society where you have to perform weird rituals involving the blood of virgins?" Vesperine burst into laughter at his words, slowing her pace so they could walk side by side like old friends.

"Something along those lines, though the blood of a virgin was not required for my initiation. On the higher tiers, who knows..." She shrugged nonchalantly, her voice oddly devoid of its usual deranged quality and somewhat serious.

For a brief moment, Talax found himself wondering if her peculiar behavior thus far had all been an elaborate act, a facade designed to bewilder and unsettle him.

"But what exactly is that order?" Talax persisted, his curiosity piqued.

Vesperine rolled her eyes, adopting a sassy tone. "Oh, honey, aren't you a persistent little pup? Fine,

"Let's say that the Order of the Smiling Lady lends its assets in exchange for money," Vesperine replied, her voice dripping with wicked amusement.

Talax was initially puzzled, his brows furrowing. "Assets..." Then the realization struck him, and his eyes widened. "You don't mean..."

Vesperine burst into laughter at his reaction and waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, darling, don't let your mind wander into the gutter. We're not a brothel, if that's what you're thinking. The Order provides services to powerful individuals, assassins, thieves, informants... You name it, we've got it. If a job happens to involve a little 'action' under the sheets, well, so be it." She turned to gauge his reaction, but Talax was lost in thought.

The idea of a secret order filled with thieves and assassins was undeniably enticing. If he could join, he'd be trained by professionals, learning skills and arts known to only a few. He could move in the shadows, operate under the cover of darkness, and not fear the consequences of his actions. He could become someone else on every mission, spying on nobles and eliminating corrupt politicians. Such a life held immense appeal, but it wasn't his path.

“I see you are enthralled by the idea of the order...” She stopped walking and fell into a contemplative silence for a moment. After scanning their surroundings to ensure no prying ears were nearby, she reached into her belt and pulled out a small object.

She handed the peculiar coin to Talax, its eight edges and a slash in the middle forming a mocking smile. Drawing closer, she whispered, "If you ever decide to join the Order, go to a temple of the Gods and infuse this token with your mana. Someone from the Order will come and find you."

Her normally feminine and playful voice had taken an unusually low and serious tone. Talax realized he had been offered an opportunity that few ever received, an extension of goodwill from a woman he scarcely knew. He accepted the token with the gravity it was given, nodding respectfully, and carefully stowed it away inside his pack, hidden from view.

Vesperine, now back to her customary voice, clapped excitedly and said, "Let's go. Edmund will be furious if we were away for too long." Talax nodded, still wrestling with the weight of her offer.

As they walked back toward camp, Vesperine chattered away like her old self, while Talax struggled to keep up. Something had shifted between them after her revelation. He couldn't quite pinpoint what had changed, but he felt as if he were beginning to see through her facade. He noticed her quick words trying to conceal something she'd rather keep hidden, a disconnection between her body language and her tone. Small things he started to pick up on. She certainly had some eccentricities, but she wasn't as "bat shit crazy" as he had initially thought.

When they finally reached the camp, everyone was packed and ready to leave. The two men, Callum and Walter, appeared sober and impatient, waiting for their return. Qalo hung in the back, silent and unnoticed as usual. Franny stood next to his uncle, who was visibly seething with anger at their delay. Upon seeing Talax's approach, Franny suddenly found his shiny boots incredibly interesting, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Where have you two been?" Edmund demanded, his anger causing flecks of spittle to fly from his mouth. Talax couldn't help but think that the man had some serious control issues, especially with the ominous pulsing vein on his forehead.

"I found the puppy lost in the woods, and we were promptly ambushed by crawlers," Vesperine explained, her voice a mix of theatrical shivers and dramatics. "Those buggers are absolutely dreadful!" She even made a gagging noise to enhance her lie, and everyone in the camp seemed to buy into her performance. The lie rolled off her lips effortlessly, and Edmund's fury seemed to momentarily simmer as he processed her explanation. He took a deep breath, visibly struggling to rein in his temper.

"Crawlers," he muttered through gritted teeth, "a nuisance indeed." The throbbing vein on his forehead was a visible sign of his ongoing struggle to maintain control.

Talax felt that unnerving tingling sensation again but didn't have the time to dwell on it. Edmund called for the group to move on, and everyone began following the noble.

"We won't have to wade through the forest for long. The path passes nearby," Edmund informed them, prompting all three companions to exchange surprised glances, their earlier disagreement momentarily forgotten.

"There's a path?" Ferdinand asked with genuine surprise, earning a disbelieving look from his uncle. "How were you navigating the cavern, then? Stumbling blindly through the forest?" The older man asked with evident disbelief. When all three of them sheepishly admitted to doing just that, Edmund muttered with a mixture of frustration and disgust, "Idiots."