Dave finally allowed himself to relax as Remicra rose from the floor, dusting herself off.

"That was... a daringly successful victory, well done," the dragoness admitted, her voice unexpectedly soft.

"Thanks," Dave smiled, feeling a flush of pride warm his cheeks as he basked in the rare praise bestowed upon him by his first friend in Shandria.

As she looked at her companion, her eyes met Dave’s with a mixture of admiration and concern. Her shimmering, iridescent scales caught the flickering light of the forge like a myriad of precious gemstones as she ripped apart the rope binding her hands with far too much ease.

"They will return in far greater numbers along with the City Watch, as soon as Waymancer Faray and Overseer Princess are healed," she said, her words heavy. "You've only delayed them until early morning at best. They likely won't try to attack us at night as shadow-inflicted wounds are hard to mend with potions, plus they will now be wary of you taking down the ward runes at random."

"I'll figure something out by then, don't worry," Dave replied.

"You've chosen a dangerous path of being a wanted fugitive, when the option to simply not be here at night was available. What exactly causes you to behave like an idiot?" the dragoness asked, as her piercing gaze sought to unveil the deepest recesses of Dave's soul.

"Why are you so negative?" Dave asked, as he sought to dispel the cloud of doom that seemed to hang over her words. "Did you not see how well this went? I was wearing a helmet, how are they going to know who I am?"

He pulled off his Bakelite helmet to illustrate his point and grinned at her.

"I shan't belittle your remarkable triumph over the five bastards," Remicra conceded, the angular contours of her face softening. "However, I am being realistic. With your actions tonight, you agitated an entire colony of malfeasants, who will now undoubtedly scour every corner of Shandria and beyond in search of you. And for what reason, may I ask?"

"It was for you, Remy," Dave said, his gaze unwavering. "I'm done watching you get tortured. Don't think I don't see those new claw scratches all over your neck."

For a moment, the dragoness was rendered utterly speechless.

Her hand suddenly wrapped around Dave's, the warmth of her touch sending a thrill through his body like a bolt of lightning. "Thank you... I really haven't had so much fun in... well, forever. But, they will return here with first rays of the sun and unless you have a secret fortress or an army of your own, you're absolutely going to get executed or collared."

Dave listened to the blacksmith's words. Even in the face of increasing adversity, he knew that he could not – would not – simply give in to despair. For there, within the crucible of darkness that surrounded them, he had found a glimmer of light, a spark of inspiration that refused to be extinguished. He refused to step off the path he had chosen, refused to let go of Remicra.

He pulled the dragoness into the back of the smithy by her hand and she followed him without any semblance of resistance.

"They didn't find our Bakelite manufacturing stuff, right?" Dave inquired with a note of concern as he looked over the backroom shelves laden with metal, leather and wood.

"Fortunately, Princess was preoccupied with other affairs today," Remicra replied, a hint of relief evident in her voice. "Her torture of me was limited to a mere hour, and she gave up when I repeatedly insisted, through anguished screams, that I held no knowledge of any male adventurers lurking around my smithy at night."

"Sorry I wasn't there for you today," Dave said, the weight of guilt pressing down on him.

"I have grown accustomed to the pain. They'll undoubtedly reward me with more, after they have extinguished your flame." The dragoness's words carried a somber tone.

Dave sighed in response.

"I must admit, I find it somewhat disappointing that the shadow didn't manage to kill any of the hunters. It could have easily at least decapitated the slow, half-blind ratkin," Remicra’s gaze drifted towards the shadow-centipede-kitten through the doorway that led to the forge area. The void-creature frolicked around the severed, gray arm that once belonged to Princess. It pawed the lifeless limb with an uncanny nimbleness, biting at it.

"Well, it is a kitten," Dave offered with a nonchalant shrug. "Kittens are known for their playfulness."

The dragoness raised a delicate, scaly eyebrow in challenge. "Oh, and have you suddenly become an expert on the intricacies of living Shadow magic, then?" she teased.

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"Just making educated guesses," Dave replied. As he spoke, his thoughts drifted to the memories of experiments that the mad Archmage Alaster had attempted to run on imprisoned shadows within a confined room. The memories were extremely decayed and vague, like the faded remnants of a dream, but he was certain that the smaller shadows killed living things only after a while of tormenting them, just like a cat would.

From what he recalled, minute shadow creatures possessed only a rudimentary understanding of the world around them, their intelligence akin to that of pets. And just like pets, they attached themselves to specific locations, manifesting time and time again in the same place, learning from their experiences with those who hurt them. The small shadow tormented by Alaster hated him with a deepening passion, became increasingly more hostile to the mad mage, slamming against his wardbox with endless persistence.

"Has anyone ever tried to adopt a shadow?" Dave asked.

"Just when I think that you are clever, you say something so completely ridiculous," Remicra replied, shaking her head in disbelief, as she regarded him with a look that seemed to dance between amusement and incredulity.

"Well, I'm going to adopt this one," Dave stated. "I think I can get her to like me."

"Her?!" Remicra’s violet-gold eyes widened in disbelief as she struggled to comprehend his lunacy.

"How would you even... are planning to feed it more people?!" She demanded.

"Not people," Dave replied, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas that seemed to stretch the boundaries of his imagination. "Metal bugs, maybe?"

"You're going to capture live metal bugs, ferry them back to Shandria and feed them to a shadow that's living inside a building that belongs to your increasingly hostile enemies in an attempt to potentially make friends with it?" Remicra queried, her words laced with a mountain of skepticism.

"That's right," Dave affirmed. "But that's a job for another day. Tonight, we are relocating our materials and tools to my new Estate."

"You have an Estate?" Remicra blinked, her eyes widening with surprise as she regarded him with a stumped expression. "Since when?!"

"Yes," Dave nodded, a hint of pride coloring his voice as he recalled the events of the day. "Since today. While you were making magisteel arrows, I got myself an Estate."

"What?" Remicra sputtered, searching his face for some telltale sign that her companion lost his mind or was simply messing with her.

"It needs a bit of upkeep, but it's a very nice place in the highborn district, covered with powerful arcane wards," Dave said. "I very much doubt that Princess will find us there."

"Us?! I don't understand... How? What?" Remicra eyes widened further, the two primary colors within them shifting like a vortex of confusion. "Did you somehow miraculously trade up from another copper flute up to a bloody highborn Estate?!"

"Let's start packing things up," Dave laughed. "I'll tell you all about it while we relocate!"

"How are we relocating an entire room full of glass beakers from one building to another in the middle of the freaking night?!" The dragoness waved her talons, her voice rising. "You can't just go outside, we'll get our limbs chopped off the second we step out of the ward!"

"I've made some contacts," Dave replied, a warm, reassuring smile playing across his lips. "Don't worry, I'm technically a Lord now."

"You're a Lord?!" Remicra sputtered.

"Only recognized by one other Lord in the Estate lease contract," Dave shrugged nonchalantly, his expression one of quiet confidence. "But now, I must don the cloak of a robber. You and I are going to empty this entire storage room of its contents!"

The dragoness considered his words, as she attempted to fathom the magnitude of the task that lay before them. "Metal doesn't weigh much for me," she said at last. "But there's over a hundred barrels of coal, sand and steel in here! How do you expect me to lug all of that to your new Estate while being assaulted by Burgundy's forces, my Lord?"

Dave smiled at Remicra as went to the stairwell, procured and raised a voicecast ring to his lips. The polished metal band gleamed in the red light, its surface etched with intricate runes.

"Voicecast mage Riska Logism," he ordered and waited for the other person to respond.

"Lord Dave?" A tired, female voice, belonging to Lord Nelvash's Waymancer, sounded from the ring. "Why have you contacted me at this late hour?"

"I require a gate from my current location to the caretaker's cottage," Dave explained. "I have some items to relocate into my new armory from my storage space."

"I'm charging you extra because I was already in bed," the Waymancer grumbled.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to tip you extra on top of the usual charge for bothering you after hours," Dave assured her. "Unfortunately, from what my secretary gleaned, my pesky competitors are plotting a move against my current warehouse in the morning. My apologies for the inconvenience, Lady Logism, I would not have bothered you so late had the situation not called for it."

"Very well," the Waymancer exhaled with resignation. "Give me about five minutes to concentrate on pinpointing the location of your voicecast rune. Don't move from where you are, please."

"Got it," Dave said, sitting down atop one of the barrels filled with metal flakes.

As the five minutes passed, Remicra's expression displayed an ever-increasing level of astonishment, reaching its crescendo when a magical portal materialized in front of them in a brilliant flash.

The sight of her stupefied look was so comical that Dave could not help but laugh heartily.