Zeo and Ravyn stood in a defensive stance, surrounded by dozens of armed thugs. Fael and Alice took position behind them, ready for anything.
Some of the thugs recognized Alice, but none seemed particularly afraid. To them, she was just a somewhat famous C-rank adventurer. Another familiar face was Fael. Although once a member of Valerat's party, he had only ever been the errand boy. Hardly anyone worth fearing.
A thin man stepped out from among the crowd. He had a lean frame, short-cropped hair with longer strands at the back, and wore a dark leather jacket. His fingers glittered with colorful rings, and tattoos coiled along his arms and neck. An arrogant look painted his sharp features.
This was Butlang—the leader of the gang.
"Fael... I thought you'd be Valerat's member for life," he sneered. "And now you're playing servant to a bunch of C-rank adventurers?"
Laughter erupted from his men.
It was a jab—directed at Fael and Alice—but both ignored it. No reaction. No words.
Zeo glanced at Ravyn and Fael. "What happened here?"
"Master… they…" Ravyn was still fuming. Her eyes burned, but her words were jumbled.
Fael took a steady breath. "We were just waiting for you two. Having a snack, that's all," he explained briefly. "But… Miss Ravyn's fox ears popped out. Some of them saw. Since, you know… demi-humans here are treated like property, especially the unsealed ones and..."
"They tried to capture her," Zeo summarized grimly.
Fael nodded.
Zeo closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I figured something like this might happen."
Then he turned to face the gang leader directly.
"I'm not looking for trouble. But that woman is part of my team. She's not a slave, and she never will be. You don't have the right to touch her."
"Huh?" Butlang grinned. "You trying to lecture me? You think I care what you say? Hah! Get them! Grab the demi-human!"
His command rang out.
The gang moved in. Chains with hooked ends flew through the air from every direction.
Alice reacted instantly. She cast Earth Wall to block several incoming attacks, then followed with a second spell—Summon Earth Golem. From the ground, multiple medium-sized golems rose and charged, slamming into the advancing thugs.
Behind the wall, Fael slipped out like a shadow. In his hand, a dagger infused with Arma glinted faintly.
Skill: Phantom Slash.
In seconds, two enemies were down—stabbed in the gaps of their armor. Silent. Efficient. This was his kind of fight—stealth and precision.
Meanwhile, Ravyn steadied her breath.
She was the target, but this time… Zeo was here.
Zeo would back her up. He wouldn't let her fall.
"I'll attack," she declared.
Her hand lifted. Vita surged through her arm, forming a massive, glowing spectral claw of icy blue-white.
Skill: Ghost Claw.
She dashed forward, slashing through the ranks with devastating speed. Anyone in her path was torn down. No one could stop her.
Zeo remained behind—not idle, but observant. His eyes scanned the battlefield, tracking every movement. Occasionally, he threw stones to distract enemies or break the rhythm of those targeting Ravyn, Fael, or Alice.
Minimal effort. Maximum effect. Perfect support.
Their coordination wasn't that of veterans—but it was close. Thanks to Zeo.
"Not bad," he murmured, arms folded. "Good training for them."
In minutes, over half the gang had fallen. Screams, crashing bodies, snapping chains, and curses filled the air.
But—
Dozens more remained.
And their leader… hadn't even moved.
Butlang stood calmly, a smug grin still on his face. His ring-covered fingers tapped together as if waiting.
Zeo narrowed his eyes and shifted his stance. Ready to step in if needed.
---
Seeing his men fall so easily—and the rest beginning to falter after witnessing Ravyn's ferocity—Butlang finally stepped forward.
He raised one hand high.
"Hold!" he shouted.
His men hesitated, but obeyed.
"Hehe… You're better than I expected," he said, wiping sweat from his brow. "But this fight won't do either of us any good. What do you say we end it here?"
Zeo and the others stared at him in disbelief.
"…What?"
Before anyone could respond, a loud voice rang out from the watching crowd.
"You started this, and now you want to call it off?"
The sound of hooves echoed through the district. Several riders in silvery-blue armor emerged—city guards.
At their center was a broad-shouldered man with a longsword at his hip and a commanding presence.
Arnold, one of Leymora's security commanders.
"Butlang," he said flatly, glaring at the gang leader.
"S-Sir Arnold…" Butlang stammered, half-bowing.
"So?" Arnold continued coldly. "How do you plan to end this?"
"Sir Arnold, this is neutral ground!" Butlang protested. "What happens here is beyond city jurisdiction—"
"That's on normal days," Arnold interrupted sharply. "But Prince Elion is visiting tomorrow. That means we control every inch of this city today. No exceptions."
His gaze turned sharper. "So. What will you do to settle this?"
Butlang clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.
"Tch… I'll pay for the damages."
"That's it?" Arnold glanced at Zeo and his group. "What about them?"
Butlang gulped. "I-I'll compensate them too. Just… tell me what you want."
Zeo smiled calmly.
It was déjà vu. And it worked in his favor.
"We came here to buy a slave," Zeo said. "And you tried to enslave one of us. Seems like the theme of the day is slavery."
He crossed his arms. "So, I want two slaves as compensation. One because you interfered with our purchase. One because you tried to turn my teammate into one."
Butlang's face twisted with irritation. But with Arnold standing close, he couldn't refuse.
"Ugh… Fine. Give them two slaves," he grumbled, motioning to the slave manager.
"No," Zeo cut in. "I'll choose them myself."
"…Fine," Butlang replied, gritting his teeth.
Zeo stepped back into the slave complex, giving Arnold a subtle nod of thanks.
Alice bowed politely. "Thank you, Sir Arnold."
"Oh, Lady Alice," Arnold replied, smiling slightly. "Your friends are… quite strong."
But his gaze lingered uneasily on Zeo.
Alice only gave a small nod.
A short while later, Zeo returned with two slaves.
The first was a high-grade elf—a silver-haired man with noble posture and a sharp, prideful glare. He wore an elegant, patterned outfit that suggested upper-class origins. His name: Miza.
The second was from the lowest tier—a dwarf with scarred arms and a scowl that could curdle milk. His eyes burned with defiance, and he reeked of criminal arrogance. Name: Guillard.
With the city guards overseeing the paperwork, the slave seals were officially implanted.
They now belonged to Zeo.
Before departing, Zeo's group gave Arnold a respectful nod.
Ravyn—ever mischievous—stuck her tongue out at Butlang and winked.
Butlang's fists clenched in fury, his face turning red. But with Arnold just meters away, he dared not move.
Inside, however, his hatred festered.
I'll get revenge… I'll make them pay.
---
The sky turned orange.
Evening fell over a chaotic day.
Zeo and his group—now with two new slaves—boarded their horse-drawn carriage.
Traveling at night wasn't common for adventurers. But for them, night posed no threat.
Unseen, in the distant shadows, a few figures trailed behind quietly.
The wheel of fate spun on.
And the night had only just begun.
---