Dominante let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. It was the most absurd, transparent excuse she had ever read. The Diamond Kingdom didn't 'reassess' treason. They didn't care about the 'expenditure of resources' when it came to making an example out of defectors.
There was only one reason the Diamond Kingdom, a nation built on ruthless military absolute, would issue a decree like this.
They were forced to.
Someone had walked into the shadows of their high command, grabbed the throat of the military tribunal, and squeezed until they agreed to drop the charges.
And Dominante knew exactly who that someone was.
The image of the tall man with the featureless wooden mask flashed vividly in her mind. She remembered the way the ambient mana in the room had seemed to bow to him, the absolute, chilling confidence in his metallic voice when he promised to handle her problem.
He hadn't been boasting. He hadn't been making empty promises.
He had actually done it.
The letter slipped from Dominante's fingers, fluttering gently to the stone floor of the safehouse. Her legs gave out completely, and she collapsed backward into her wooden chair, her hands covering her face as a wave of overwhelming, paralyzing relief finally crashed over her.
She was free. For the first time in years, she didn't have a price on her head. The Kingdom's dogs had been called off.
Mariella knelt beside the chair, resting a gentle, uncharacteristically comforting hand on Dominante's shaking shoulder.
"He did it," Mariella whispered, her blue eyes staring at the fallen letter with a mixture of profound gratitude and deep, lingering terror. "Dominante-san... who exactly did we make a deal with?"
Dominante lowered her hands, looking at the young assassin. Her face was streaked with tears, but a new, blazing light of determination burned in her eyes.
"I don't know, Mariella," Dominante answered, her voice trembling but gaining strength with every word. "I don't know if he's a saint or a monster. But he gave us our lives back. And if he wants artifacts forged in return... I will build him the finest magical tools this continent has ever seen."
Current Day
The dark, damp walls of the dead-end tunnel in the Nairn Black Market seemed to press inward as the silence stretched between the two figures.
Mariella stood amidst the discarded curved daggers on the stone floor, her icy blue eyes wide with a mixture of profound relief and lingering adrenaline. She stared at the featureless wooden mask and the heavy black cloak of the man who had just seamlessly vanished and reappeared from thin air.
Lencar let out a soft, surprisingly human breath that sounded like a quiet chuckle beneath the distorted enchantments of his mask. He leaned his shoulder against the rough cavern wall, crossing his arms over his chest in a relaxed posture.
"I have to admit, Mariella," Lencar said, his natural voice cutting through the gloom, dropping the intimidating, omnidirectional echo he had used moments before. "I'm usually the one doing the ambushing. I certainly didn't expect you to be the one tailing me through the market. Especially considering you were the person I came down here to find in the first place."
Mariella let out a long, shaky exhale, running a hand through her immaculate, silver-white hair. The disciplined, cold facade of the Diamond Kingdom assassin completely melted away, leaving behind a young woman who looked like she had been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders for far too long.
"You have no idea how hard I've been looking for you," Mariella admitted, a wry, almost disbelieving smile touching the corners of her lips. She stooped down with fluid grace to retrieve her fallen daggers, sliding them smoothly back into the hidden sheaths beneath her cloak. "I've been patrolling every corner of this miserable underground market for days, checking every shadow Dominante usually frequents. I was starting to think you were a ghost who had completely forgotten about us."
Lencar tilted his masked head slightly, sensing the raw, uncharacteristic emotion radiating from the usually stoic assassin. "I told you and Dominante that I would handle the situation. I don't make promises I don't intend to keep. I assume from your reaction that the Diamond Kingdom has formally updated their ledgers?"
"They did more than update them," Mariella said, her voice dropping to a softer, more reverent tone as she stepped closer to him. "They issued a priority royal decree. They completely rescinded her bounty. It sent shockwaves through the entire regional assassination department. Nobody knows why they did it, only that the orders came directly from the Military High Command. You... what you did... it was considered impossible."
"Nothing is impossible with the right leverage," Lencar replied calmly, pushing himself off the stone wall. "But standing in a dark alleyway discussing state secrets isn't the most secure course of action. Take me to Dominante. We have business to conclude."
Mariella nodded sharply, her professional demeanor snapping back into place in an instant. "Follow me. And keep your mana suppressed. The market enforcers are on high alert tonight because of a dispute between two mercenary companies."
Lencar didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped his black cloak tightly around himself, ensuring the wooden mask was entirely obscured by the deep shadow of his hood. He followed Mariella as she navigated the labyrinthine depths of the Black Market. She didn't take the main pathways; instead, she guided him through a series of narrow, hidden fissures in the cavern rock, bypassed two magically concealed doors, and led him down a spiraling set of ancient, crumbling stone stairs that took them even deeper underground.
Finally, they arrived at a heavy, reinforced iron door set into a solid wall of granite. To the untrained eye, it looked like a sealed tomb. But Lencar's refined senses immediately picked up the dense, intricate overlapping layers of warding magic woven into the metal. It was a masterpiece of defensive runecraft, designed to instantly incinerate anyone who tried to force the lock.
Mariella pressed her palm against a specific, unblemished section of the iron door. A faint blue light scanned her hand, verifying her mana signature, before the heavy locking mechanisms disengaged with a series of heavy, metallic clunks.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, Lencar following silently behind her.
The safehouse was a stark contrast to the damp, oppressive gloom of the cavern outside. It was brightly lit by several floating, enchanted orbs. The room was large but felt incredibly cramped due to the sheer volume of magical equipment, workbenches, and half-assembled artifacts completely covering every available surface. The air smelled strongly of ozone, heated brass, and brewing coffee.
Standing near the center of the room was Dominante Code.
Her iconic, vibrant orange hair was tied back in a messy, chaotic bun, with several strands escaping to frame her face. She was wearing a heavy leather work apron over a simple tunic, her hands stained with dark ink and metallic dust. When the door opened, she spun around, her eyes wide.
But Lencar's gaze was immediately drawn to the man standing protectively in front of her.
It was Fanzell Kruger. The former Commander of the Diamond Kingdom's forces.
Fanzell was a man of average height with a slim but densely muscular build. He had incredibly messy, spiky red hair, a prominent stubbled beard that gave him a rugged appearance, and sharp, calculating blue eyes.
True to the rumors Lencar had heard about the man's bizarre habits, Fanzell was currently half-naked. He was wearing dark trousers, but his shirt was completely missing, draped carelessly over a nearby chair. However, unlike the comedic, lighthearted buffoon Fanzell often portrayed himself to be when his clothes magically seemed to disappear, there was absolutely nothing funny about him in this moment.
Fanzell stood with his bare feet firmly planted on the floorboards, his center of gravity lowered in a perfect martial stance. His muscular arms were slightly raised, and an intensely sharp, violently swirling aura of Wind Magic coated his hands like invisible blades. His blue eyes were locked onto Lencar's masked figure with the cold, lethal intensity of a veteran commander analyzing a potential, highly dangerous threat. He was a human shield, completely prepared to lay down his life for the orange-haired woman standing behind him.
"Stand down, Fanzell. It's him," Mariella announced immediately, raising her hands to defuse the tension.
Fanzell blinked. The lethal, razor-sharp intensity in his eyes wavered for a fraction of a second. The swirling vortexes of wind magic surrounding his fists dissipated with a soft whoosh.