Adam’s crimson eyes swept the streets as they walked, taking in the faces that peered from doorways and alleys, the way people pressed themselves against walls as they passed. His voice was low, thoughtful.

"I didn’t pay much attention yesterday, but... there are hardly any non-humans here. Mostly humans."

Isolde walked at his side, her hood pulled low, her pale eyes scanning the crowded thoroughfare. Her voice was quiet, matter-of-fact.

"Even though Kaelthar is lawless, humans still dominate. Conflicts over the years have made it difficult for non-humans to integrate. They stick to their own territories, or stay hidden."

Adam nodded slowly, his gaze drifting to a group of rough-looking men who quickly looked away when his eyes met theirs.

"That explains why everyone’s so afraid. They see us and don’t want any trouble."

They turned onto a narrower street, the buildings pressing closer, the shadows deepening. The crowds thinned, then disappeared entirely. The signs of Kaelthar’s desperation were more visible here. Empty eyes stared from doorways. Children with hollow cheeks watched them pass.

"This is the district," Isolde murmured. "The blacksmith should be near here."

A commotion ahead drew Adam’s attention. Voices raised, jostling bodies, a small crowd gathered around a cart bearing the symbol of a coiled dragon clutching a scale.

Adam’s eyes narrowed. "Croft’s symbol."

Ignis bounced on her heels, craning her neck to see over the crowd. "What’s going on? Are they fighting?"

Adam watched as hands reached toward the cart, receiving small bundles wrapped in cloth. Food, he realized. Bread, dried meat, a few pieces of fruit. The man distributing them wore Croft’s colors, his movements efficient, impersonal.

"They’re handing out food," Adam said, his voice thoughtful. "Maybe Croft isn’t as bad as I thought."

Lilith’s lips curved into a small smile. "Don’t be too quick to judge, Adam. Kindness can be a weapon too."

Isolde’s voice drifted from beneath her hood. "Croft has a reputation for generosity. But he never does anything that doesn’t benefit him in the long run." She paused, watching the distribution. "A well-fed crowd is a loyal crowd. And loyalty in Kaelthar is worth its weight in gold."

Adam’s gaze lingered on the cart, then swept the surrounding buildings. The windows were dark, the rooftops empty. But something prickled at the back of his neck.

He stopped walking.

"Someone’s watching us."

Isolde tensed beside him. Lilith’s smile didn’t waver, but her fingers twitched, threads stirring around her wrists. Ignis’s flames flickered brighter, her golden eyes sharpening.

"Where?" Ignis asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Adam’s Hunter’s Tri-Sense extended outward, feeling for heartbeats, breathing, the faint shift of air that betrayed a hidden presence.

"There," he said quietly, not pointing, but tilting his head slightly toward a window on the third floor of a building across the street. "Behind the shutters. They’ve been following us since we left the inn."

Lilith’s crimson eyes drifted toward the window, her expression serene. "Shall I retrieve them?"

"Not yet." Adam’s voice was calm. "Let them watch. For now."

He resumed walking, his pace unhurried, as if he hadn’t noticed. The others fell into step beside him.

’They’re professionals. Not like the thugs in the clearing.’ His lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. ’Interesting.’

The crowd around the food cart thinned as they passed, people scattering back to their shadows. The building with the watchful window loomed behind them, and Adam didn’t look back.

Isolde’s voice was barely audible. "Do you think they’re from the guild?"

"Probably." Adam glanced at her. "Or maybe Croft has his own people watching us." He shrugged. "Doesn’t matter. They’re not making a move. Yet."

Ignis bounced beside him, her flames flaring with barely contained excitement. "If they attack, I’ll burn them all!"

Adam’s lips twitched. "Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that."

They reached the end of the street, and there, tucked between a crumbling tenement and what might once have been a tannery, stood the Sable Forge.

The sign above the door was simple, a broken anvil, cracked down the middle, hanging from an iron bracket. The door itself was scarred wood, reinforced with iron bands, and a single lamp burned beside it.

Adam pushed the door open.

Heat washed over them, thick and suffocating, carrying the scent of coal smoke and hot metal. A forge blazed at the back of the room, its flames casting dancing shadows across walls lined with tools and weapons in various states of completion.

A figure stood before the anvil, her back to them, her hammer rising and falling in a steady, rhythmic beat. Sparks flew with each strike, showering the stone floor in brief, bright bursts.

Her arms were bare, corded with muscle, and her hair, a deep auburn shot through with streaks of grey, was pulled back in a messy bun. An apron of thick leather covered her from neck to knees, scarred and blackened with soot. Her hands, wrapped around the hammer’s haft, were calloused and strong.

She didn’t turn when they entered.

"State your business," she said, her voice rough, like stones grinding together. The hammer didn’t pause.

Adam stepped forward, stopping at a respectful distance from the forge.

"We were told you might be able to repair an artifact. A compass."

The hammer stopped.

Hilt’s hammer paused mid-swing, hovering above the anvil like a question waiting to be answered. She didn’t turn, but her voice carried clearly over the crackle of the forge.

"That’s a tall order. Artifacts like that don’t break easy, and they don’t fix easy either."

Adam’s expression didn’t change. "The merchant seemed to think you could do it."

Hilt set her hammer down with a soft clink and turned to face them. Her face was weathered, lined by years of heat and labor, but her eyes, a pale, piercing grey, were sharp and clear. They swept over the group, assessing, cataloging.

"I can," she said slowly. "But it’ll take time. And it won’t be cheap."

Adam was silent for a moment. His gaze drifted to the walls, to the weapons and tools that hung there. His system interface flickered in the corner of his vision, analyzing each piece in rapid succession.

[Iron Dagger – Common]

[Steel Shortsword – Common]

[Reinforced Hammer – Common]

’Nothing special,’ he thought, his internal voice flat. ’These are all ordinary pieces. A blacksmith who can repair a legendary artifact... yet all her work is average?’

Lilith’s mental voice brushed against his mind, soft and knowing.

’Well? What do you think?’

Adam’s mental response was cold. ’The blacksmith is strange. I’ve analyzed every weapon in this room. They’re all common quality. Nothing even close to legendary.’

Lilith’s tone sharpened with amusement. ’It seems we’ve been deceived. Just as I suspected. A legendary artifact cannot be repaired by a common blacksmith in a rundown shop like this.’

Ignis’s mental voice chimed in, bright and eager. ’Adam! I smell a fight! There are people gathering outside. Lots of them.’

Adam’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. His mental voice was calm.

’I know.’

Hilt, still waiting for an answer, tilted her head. Her pale eyes narrowed.

"Well? Do we have a deal?"

Adam’s gaze shifted to the door. He could feel them now, the presences pressing against the edges of his perception. Heartbeats. Breathing. The soft rasp of weapons being drawn.

"Deal?" Adam’s voice was soft, almost amused. "I don’t think so."

Hilt’s expression flickered. Her hand moved toward the hammer on her anvil.

Then the door exploded inward.

Shards of wood sprayed across the room, and dark figures poured through the opening—assassins, silent and deadly, their blades gleaming in the forge’s firelight.

Isolde moved before anyone else could react.

Her hand shot up, and the blood that had been pooling in the shadows of the room rose, answering her call. It spiraled around her, forming a crimson barrier that caught the first wave of projectiles. Knives, needles, thin darts coated in something that shimmered green, all of them stuck in the wall of blood, suspended like flies in amber.

"Ambush!" Isolde’s voice was sharp, urgent. "They were waiting for us!"

Ignis’s flames erupted, her golden eyes blazing with fierce delight.

"Finally! I was getting bored!"

Hilt’s hammer clanged against the anvil, a sharp, ringing sound that cut through the chaos. Her voice rose above the crackle of flames and the hiss of blood.

"This is my property! If you’re going to fight, take it outside! I won’t have you destroying years of work!"

Sean stepped through the shattered doorway, his dark eyes sweeping the room with calm efficiency. His clothes were unremarkable, dark and unadorned, the kind that blended into shadows. Behind him, more assassins filtered in, forming a loose semicircle around the group.

"I’m not here to fight," Sean said, his voice light, almost conversational. "I’m here to talk."

Isolde’s crimson barrier pulsed, the blood still holding the projectiles suspended. Her voice was sharp, incredulous.

"You attacked us! And now you want to talk?!"

Lilith’s threads stirred around her fingers, silver and white, catching the forge’s firelight. Her smile was serene, but her crimson eyes gleamed with predatory anticipation.

"Perhaps they need to be taught a lesson in manners."

Hilt slammed her hammer against the anvil again, the sound echoing through the room.

"Not in my forge! Take your lesson elsewhere!"

Sean held up his hands, palms out, a gesture of peace that didn’t reach his eyes.

"I’m being reasonable here. I’m still being nice. You should accept before that changes."

Adam’s crimson eyes fixed on Sean, cold and unblinking. His voice was flat.

"That’s not how you treat someone you want to negotiate with."

Ignis’s flames flickered, her golden eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air. She leaned closer to Adam, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for him.

"Adam... I recognize that smell. These are the same assassins who attacked us in the Solarian kingdom."

Lilith’s serene smile sharpened. She tilted her head, her crimson eyes gleaming.

"Oh? It seems the world is smaller than I thought."

Adam’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. His voice, when it came, was cold and eager.

"So... they’re the ones who hunted us before." He rolled his shoulders, dark energy already beginning to coil around his hands. "Change of plans. We’re not just defending ourselves anymore."

"We’re going to return the favor! Wipe them all out!"

Ignis’s flames flared brighter, her excitement palpable. She cracked her knuckles, grinning fiercely.

"Now that’s a good plan!"

Sean’s dark eyes flickered between them, his earlier confidence faltering. His voice sharpened.

"What do you mean by that?"

Adam didn’t answer. He simply raised his hand, dark energy gathering in his palm.

Sean’s eyes widened. His hand shot to his weapon.

The forge erupted into chaos.