The iron gates of the 2nd District parted for me without a single moment of friction. The starstruck gatekeeper from before didn't even lift a hand to inspect my layered cloak, completely oblivious to the fact that the blood-sucking demon he feared was walking right past his nose. The sheer influence of my newly minted S-rank status and the rumor of my solo demolition of the drug cartel acted as the perfect shield. To him, I wasn't a monster; I was a hero, the elite younger sister of the legendary Shadow Walker.
But I knew that luck was a fragile thread.
As I stepped onto the cobblestones of the outer sectors, the heavy weight of reality pressed down on me. I needed to launch my descent into the Caria Mines, but doing it now, in broad daylight, was suicide. The hunt for the Crimson Phantom was burning at a fever pitch. A staggering twelve gold coins were waiting for anyone who brought down my head. If I unfurled my massive, blood-red wings during the day, or even during the bustling twilight hours when merchants and citizens crowded the streets, the sky would light up with magical tracking signals. The Bureau would deploy every elite knight in the city… including Elias… to shoot me down. They would label me a public enemy and slaughter me before I could ever avenge my mother.
"I will not repeat the same mistakes, No more getting spotted by random caravans. No more reckless flights." I thought
I had to wait until midnight. When the deep, suffocating darkness wrapped around the capital, when the merchant stalls were locked tight, and when the midnight patrol guards were exhausted, bleary-eyed, and sluggish… that was when the phantom would take flight.
But I couldn't just sit idle. I had to prepare my gear, and right now, my equipment was in a state of decay.
I looked down at my right hand. The high-quality mana reservoir ring I had received from Oksana, its magical matrix, fractured. The devastating clash we had shared in the heart of Sisiphon had completely overdrawn its capacity, and the residual energy was finally running dry. It was completely useless to me now. With a cold, detached flick of my wrist, I tossed the dead artifact straight into a nearby iron dumpster, letting it clatter into the trash.
Next was my purse. The old leather bag at my hip was frayed, stained with desert grime, and practically rotting off its buckles after the brutal trek. I couldn't carry Nautilus's silver in a bag that was falling apart.
With fifty high-grade silver pieces jingling in my cloak, I slipped into the shadows and navigated my way toward the 6th District, the sprawling commercial and market sector of Caria City. It was a chaotic maze of open-air bazaars, smithies, and black-market accessory shops.
I pulled my hood lower, blending seamlessly into the sea of mercenaries, rogue travelers, and shady merchants wandering the stalls. My lone jade-green eye scanned the rows of glowing arcane displays and leather-working shops. I needed a fresh, reinforced mana ring to sustain my volatile blood magic in the deep tunnels, and a sturdy new pouch to hold my coin. The midnight hour was ticking closer, and before the sun set on this city, the Crimson Phantom needed to be fully armed for the horrors waiting in the dark.
The chaotic, lantern-lit stalls of the 6th District buzzed with late-evening commerce, but as I pushed through the crowded market stalls, a deeply familiar face caught my eye. Setting up a makeshift wooden display near the edge of a shady alley was Brick, the eccentric wandering merchant.
A wave of strange, silent familiarity washed over me. This man was practically tracking my footsteps across the continent. My very first encounter with him was when I hitched a ride on his caravan just to get into Caria City. Our second encounter was all the way across the border in the squalid slums of Sisiphon City, where I had desperately bought the maps needed to hunt down Oksana. And now, here he was, back in the capital once again, casually laying out his wares as if he hadn't traveled hundreds of miles through dangerous territory just like me.
Brick's current inventory consisted of regional maps, traveling gear, and sturdy leather goods. But right at the corner of his velvet display board, my lone eye caught a glint of polished metal, mana reservoir rings. They weren't the high-quality, pristine gold artifacts Oksana wore, but they were solid, functional copper and iron alloys. They were cheap, but their cores were perfectly stable, designed to absorb and regenerate mana smoothly for low-to-mid rank mercenaries.
I adjusted my heavy cloak and stepped up to his stall, the shadow of my hood falling over his display.
Brick blinked, looking up from a ledger. The moment his eyes locked onto my single, piercing green eye and my heavily layered, cloaked silhouette, a massive, toothy grin broke across his rugged face.
"Well, I'll be damned! You again, traveler! I swear, I've seen you in more places this week than my own wife. And look at you… you got a serious tan! The desert sun in Sisiphon really did a number on you, huh? Tell me, traveler, what can I do for you today? You always bring me good luck." Brick chuckled heartily, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.
Remaining completely mute, I simply raised my right hand. I pointed directly toward a dark, exceptionally sturdy leather purse with thick, reinforced iron buckles, one that wouldn't rot from sweat or swamp water. Then, I shifted my finger to the side, pointing straight at one of the low-priced mana reservoir rings.
Brick nodded knowingly, pulling both items from the display.
"Ah, a practical shopper. You need to replace your worn-out gear, I see. That purse is made from reinforced mountain goat hide, and the ring will keep your mana flowing smoothly, even if it isn't flashy. For you, my recurring lucky charm... let's call it an even 10 silver pieces for the bundle."
I reached into the inner lining of my cloak, pulled out Nautilus's heavy velvet pouch, and carefully counted out ten high-grade silver coins. I dropped them into Brick's calloused hand.
"Pleasure doing business with you, traveler. Stay safe out there, the city's getting crazy," Brick said, waving goodbye as he slid the coins into his lockbox.
I stepped away into the deeper shadows of the alleyway to transfer my belongings. Without a single shred of hesitation, I unclipped my old, rotted leather purse and threw it straight into a nearby waste bin. I took the new, sturdy goat-hide purse and methodically packed my remaining forty silver coins inside. Then, I carefully slipped in my most dangerous, classified possession, the Registry of the Condemned, the heavy book containing the names of the marks I had sworn to execute.
Finally, I picked up the new mana reservoir ring. I slid it firmly onto my right index finger. The moment the metal settled against my skin, a soft, soothing hum resonated through my veins. The low-grade core instantly connected with my internal energy, beginning to slowly and steadily regenerate the mana I had depleted during my frantic escape from the desert.
I checked the sky through the gaps in the market awnings. The moons were rising higher, and the crowds were finally beginning to thin. My gear was replaced, my coins were secure, and the countdown to midnight was ticking away. The blue-green horrors of the Caria Mines were waiting, and I was finally fully equipped to face them.
"Fully prepared Eirene?" Plasma said
"Definitely."
I exited the grand outermost gates leading completely out of Caria City, leaving the high stone walls and military checkpoints behind me. By the time I breathed the open air of the surrounding wilderness, it was high noon. The blinding sun beat down mercilessly, cooking my already deeply tanned skin. Knowing I absolutely could not fly during the bright daylight without being shot down as the Crimson Phantom, I searched the perimeter until I found a massive, old-growth tree with a sprawling canopy. I slipped beneath its thick, cooling shade, leaned my back against the sturdy trunk, and closed my single green eye to take a desperately needed nap.
"Wait, taking a nap, I thought you're going in your revenge arc." Plasma said
"I'm not going to the mountains on foot, especially at that high altitude."
"Come on you lazy ass girl! You're always relying on wings, get some exercise."
"Shut up."
When I finally blinked awake, the bright daylight had completely vanished. Midnight had passed, and the world was cast in a heavy, pitch-black shroud. I was rudely awoken by a thick swarm of mountain mosquitoes buzzing loudly around my head and biting at my exposed skin.
I immediately sat up, completely alert. My lone eye darted across the dark perimeter, scanning the woods, the distant road, and the looming walls of the capital. There was not a single soul in sight. The world was dead silent, save for the wind rustling through the leaves.
The time had come.
With a swift, practiced motion of my right hand, I unbuttoned the heavy, restrictive straps of my traveler's cloak. I let out a long, ragged breath as the suffocating layers loosened, and with a sharp, flexing motion of my spine, I violently unfurled my massive, blood-red wings. They burst into the midnight air, stretching to their full, terrifying span for the first time since I had entered the residential districts. The raw power of my S-rank form coursed through my veins, amplified by the steady hum of the new mana ring on my index finger.
I bent my knees and violently kicked off the ground. With a massive, silent flap of my crimson wings, I launched myself straight up into the night sky, soaring directly toward the dark, jagged peaks of the Caria mountains.
To ensure I didn't arouse a single shred of suspicion, I pushed myself higher and higher, maintaining an exceptionally high altitude. I deliberately drifted into the thick, low-hanging midnight clouds, using the dense mist to completely blend my blood-red silhouette into the darkness.
Looking down through the breaks in the vapor, I could see the glowing torches of the distant Bureau watchtowers. But from this extreme height, the sleepy, exhausted guards pacing the battlements had absolutely no chance of spotting me. Far below on the mountain passes, a few late-night merchant caravans crawled along the cobblestone paths like tiny ants, their drivers completely focused on the dark road ahead or half-asleep on their benches.
No one saw the demon in the sky. I tore through the freezing mountain air at breakneck speed, the wind howling against my canvas mask. The photo-magic images of my mother's brutalized body and the severed umbilical cord flashed in my mind, fueling the cold, murderous fire in my chest. I was closing in on the entrance of the abandoned mineshafts. Tonight, the blue-green glowing horrors of the abyss would realize that the real monster had finally arrived.