Aiden and Tyler and Mira took two steps back after Hadrian’s threat, and the lurvines snarled as they moved forward.

“Are you threatening me?” Mira asked.

“It’s quite the opposite, actually,” Hadrian said. “This is a friendly warning not to display anything of such value so openly. If I were to steal such a thing, I would gain a lifetime of value. That’s better than making deals that could end at any moment when you die in this forest. There’s less risk.”

He passed the spore container from his alchemist to Mira.

“And as much as I would like to oblige you, the Dante do not accept lifetime contracts. Your family is a staggering liability, considering that their daughter has declared war on the legacies under the watchful eyes of the multiverse.”

Mira flushed with shame. Then, her face turned cold and bitter. “Twenty years?” she whispered.

Hadrian shook his head.

“Then I suppose I should curry favor with the other families.” She began packing up her containers.

“Eight.”

Mira looked up. “What?”

“Eight. Our family works in increments of ten. You have two years of protection. We will give you an eight-year extension to fulfill our decade requirement. After that, you will need to renegotiate.”

“Hadrian!” Kallan said.

He turned to her. “If the Dante cannot forgo conflict for ten years, our family’s prestige would hold no credence—and I refuse to let that happen. I will take full responsibility.”

Mira looked down at her goods bitterly. Her face expressed the skepticism and remorse of someone believing themselves ready to be swindled—unaware of his steep concession.

But then she did something that defied his expectations.

She turned to the side, ostensibly speaking to her guide, and then nodded a few times before turning back with fierce resolution. “I accept on the terms previously agreed upon—subject to a soul pact.”

The ease at which she sacrificed three information requests for a single meeting was both concerning and delightful.

“As you wish.”

The two created a soul pact together. He led the way, as she couldn’t, but her guide confirmed the process was successful, and then Mira handed the spores to Hadrian, followed by all but one flower of each of the tributes. Then she smiled wryly.

“I hope you’ll forgive my reluctance to trade these lesser ingredients. I have to live up to my reputation as a trader to retain peace.”

Hadrian smiled thinly. “About that…” He looked into the forest, where almost a thousand harvesters were still in sight, funneling off the steps from hell. “Pray tell, Mira. How exactly do you plan to enforce law and order over fifty square miles?”

Mira closed her eyes and released a thin aura pulse that freckled his arms with goosebumps. It penetrated the ground and trees as she looked to the south and said, “Son of a bitch. They’re already at it…”

Hadrian released a divination pulse and saw that some idiots were using fire spells against beasts not five hundred meters away. The question was how she noticed. How powerful was she? He checked her core up close and froze with apprehension.

His mana core was the purest on record in First Domain. He had threaded two sunrise cores and had absolute purity for his first and second evolutions—so he knew what a pure core looked like under Mana Vision. It looked like an absolute reflection of a transitional core. Therefore, his was teal—the transition between the second evolution’s green and the second evolution’s blue. And since Mira’s tiny core was the size of a third evolution, it should, at most, be chartreuse, the blend between the first evolution's yellow and the second evolution’s green.

Yet Mira’s wasn’t. It was pure white with a stroke of green that wrapped around it like a brush stroke.

And that wasn’t all.

Mira had a soul core. He had never seen one because there was no soul stream in the first four domains, so the people who had one before the Fifth Domain were ambitious legacies risking it all in Areswood before ascension or forbidden soulmancers who sacrificed entire battlefields worth of soldiers to establish one. But, naturally, these people were few and quickly identified and disposed of. But rarity aside, there were plenty of accounts of soul cores developed in the mortal plane, and all accounts described them as spherical hurricanes in a person’s chest—and they were notorious for killing their hosts. But this… this was a sphere of pure aura, wrapped around a vivid purple marble that was as bright as her mana core—and it was tiny. It was like a bright dot in the nighttime sky.

If such a core existed, it wasn’t common. He would need to research it.

2.

While Hadrian was ogling my chest, I was packing up my new preservation chambers. I didn’t know what they were, but the complex arrays inscribed on them promised beautiful effects for storage. I didn’t care how much the containers were—I needed them and was happy.

If only this raging douchebag would leave already, it would be great.

“I assume that you’re studying my soul core, but I am still a woman,” I said dryly. “Isn’t there an etiquette regarding these things? May I stare at your breasts in the name of science, or something?”

Hadrian’s eyes widened, and he turned away. “Forgive my misconduct,” he said. “There is no such conduct in the First Domain because there’s no soul cores.”

I stopped packing my backpack, heart racing again. My mind suddenly returned to that warning Brindle gave me when he offered me his legacy:

The art of manipulating the souls and consciousness of living creatures is considered blasphemous by countless religions and organizations. Should people learn that you have accepted my legacy, you will be shunned by many societies in the Multiverse and hunted down by zealots.

That was a chilling warning, but I didn’t think that it applied to soul cores. They were common knowledge for Elana and Lithco, so I had assumed soul cores were fairly common, but I realized that I had done a lot of soulmancy-related spells to make it happen.

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“I’ll attribute it to a recommendation from your guide,” Hadrian looked toward the river, “considering your location. But I wouldn’t mention it to others. Most people don’t have enough soul force to tell.”

Hadrian nodded his head, and the barrier disappeared, opening us up to hundreds of curious, staring faces. Then Hadrian waved with a single finger and walked away without so much of a “Great to meet you,” or opportunity to bribe him into silence.

That guy’s a total douche, I thought. But there was something about him that was hard to ignore.

Hadrian was charismatic. Not necessarily in his words but in the absolute certainty that he presented them and his oozing aura of confidence. He was right, in his mind, and it looked like he would kill anyone who fought back against his ideals.

For better—and obviously worse—he was a staple of the culture, a voice of change. It made me nervous.

“Is it my turn?” a cheery woman I’d soon learn as Felio asked, hurrying forward. But before she took three steps, a blonde asshole that made Hadrian seem palatable blocked her.

“Melhans take precedence.”

Tyler suddenly clicked his tongue, breaking free from the fear and deference that he was showing to the Dante. That was remarkable, considering that all of these people were likely powerful.

“You know him?” I whispered as the man argued with the woman.

“No. But I saw him in line. He was bullying people.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It pissed me off.”

“Is he powerful?”

“I don’t know.”

“He is,” Aiden added quietly. “That’s Kal Melhan. He’s the heir of the largest trading company. They’re like Amazon here.”

“Oh…” I whispered. “Then we probably don’t want to make trouble for them.”

Aiden flashed me a wry smile, and I soon knew why.

Kal walked up to us and then looked at Aiden and then back at me. “I know you have some connection from the delivery, but I suggest you disregard this man at once.”

“Excuse me,” I said, feeling loose wires sparking in my chest.

“I said you should disregard him. He got wrapped up with the grimwhispers and snubbed the entire trading community while he was at it. He’ll bring you nothing but trouble.”

I turned to Aiden and saw his eyes tremble with pain and indignation. That alone told me everything I needed to know. These people cornered Aiden and had been abusing, bullying, and threatening him ever since.

“In fact, he already has,” Kal sneered. “He’s locked in with Brexton. My guess is that he already has a deal to tell him all your secrets. Bet that’s the reason I know you have a thousand cores somewhere. Isn’t it?”

I took a deep breath, realizing that the indignation and rage that I experienced during the Trial of Worth had solidified into the type of anger problem that domestic violence awareness videos warn students about—and this guy didn’t shut up.

“Hmmm?” he asked Aiden. “Can’t talk? Don’t want to admit that you’re a malignant—”

I lifted my finger and he stopped talking, turning to me. “Hmmm?”

“I’m…” I said. “About ten seconds away from killing you in front of everyone present.”

His lips parted, mouth agape, staring at me in disbelief. “Your ears…” He looked at them. “They do work, right?”

“Your ears—they do work, right?” I responded mockingly. “I’m pretty sure that I told everyone in your fucking domain that I didn’t care who you are or what you do, if you fuck around like a little brat, I won’t do business with you. And so far, my brother hates your guts, you’re insulting my friend, and you’re being an asshole to my customers. So, if you would be so kind, I would really appreciate it if you took a step back and fucking killed yourself.”

Kal’s bodyguards released a blast of soul pressure that silenced the crowd. I felt the tense pressure but it wasn’t unbearable—others disagreed. Half the people in the circular plaza collapsed.

Kal’s eyes quivered when he stared at me. Then his face paled when the lurvines stepped forward, making him stumble back, scrambling for the protection of the Bramble’s mouth.

His guards didn’t hesitate. They released mana pressure that felt like I got slammed with a brick, forcing me to a knee as the lurvines stared down the eight veterans. It seemed ready to turn into a bloodbath, with other families joining in as well.

“The eyes are so deceptive,” a cheery voice said. “All that bluster looking forward when you should be looking back.”

The Melhans looked back and found the Dantes staring them down—along with another family.

Brexton walked forward in sharp attire, injecting himself between the lurvines and the Melhans as if he didn’t fear for his life in the slightest. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” he said. “The Dante are duty bound to kill anyone who even glances at this man wrong.” He presented Tyler like a showman. “And this man!” He pointed to Aiden, and his eyes sharpened to the edge of shattered glass. “He’s a Claustra.”

Kal sneered from the safety of the Mouth’s ward. “Stand down.” His guards did, returning to the plaza. Then he pressed forward with sloppy vitriol in his voice:

“Hear me, Mira. While you’re living in this… savage fantasy land of yours, I come from reality. And in reality, we control the economy. That means we control where your family can work. Where they live. All factors of life that affect their lives but don’t physically harm them. And we can also make things hard for the Dante.” He turned to Hadrian. “Until they realize that helping your family after their contract’s just not worth it. Hmmm? You get it? I’m going to make your and all your customer’s lives hell. Expect it, cunt.” He turned and looked to the east. “Let’s go.”

I took a deep breath as he left. It was true that he deserved a beat down, but I also didn’t want problems for my family, and that’s exactly what just happened. Shit was getting dicey.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden said softly.

“Don’t you dare apologize.” I looked at the sharply dressed teen in front of me. “You Brexton?”

“That obvious?” he mused.

“Release Aiden’s contract.”

“Oh, that’s quite the demand.” He put his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked on his toes. Then he smiled. “I’ll refuse. Unlike everyone else, I don’t profit off herbs and spices.”

I glowered at him.

“Be~sides,” he said. “If I didn’t take in Aiden here…” He turned to Kal, walking into the distance. “That man would own him.” He walked away, waving and saying, “Life’s un~fair!”

I rubbed my face and then closed my eyes, releasing a divination pulse to see where Kline was. It turned out that he was a quarter mile to the west, near a dozen people. The soul force of half of them suddenly disappeared. Two seconds later, the whole area fell blank, with only Kline remaining.

Thank God… I thought. Dickish or not, Kal and his guards were strong and faced off against the lurvines with serious intent to fight. Kline could probably kill a few of them, but he would be in trouble if he took them all on. It was a miracle they weren’t heading in the same direction.

Still, I had another problem—how was I going to kill that little fucker without his family figuring out that I killed him? Sure, they could guess that it was me. But so long as they couldn’t prove it was me, the other families would protect me and my family. No one would stop this gravy train over mere speculation.

I didn’t realize then that I was honestly thinking about killing these people. It felt so natural. I suppose that would make sense. I spent four months fighting for my life, killing thousands of beasts, and these people weren’t much different. They were threats—to my family—and that wouldn’t stand.

Kal Melhan wouldn’t leave this forest alive.

I would make sure of it.