Lord Phillip leaned forward, adjusting his spectacles as his weathered hands took the parchment. His eyes tracked my pale finger, scanning the specific line about the hidden enclave deep within the forbidden territory. A look of sharp, administrative focus crossed his face, replacing the lingering sorrow of his memories.
"A hidden town within the Milky Way Continent that segregates or explicitly shelters humans… If you were looking for a place where humans and demi-humans simply live in harmony, your first thought would naturally be Tata. But no… the Town of Tata is a demi-human sanctuary located right here on the Andromeda Continent. It wouldn't fit Laulif's secret logistics." Phillip muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
He trailed off, rising from his chair to pull down the massive, dust-covered cartography map of the continental divides hanging behind his desk. He traced the jagged, volatile mountain ranges where the borders of Andromeda violently collided with the chaotic, lawless expanses of the outer territories.
"If he is operating a cross-continental trafficking ring from the Milky Way, he needs a bridgehead, From the Milky Way side, the only known settlement that fits this description is Town Balka." Phillip explained, his finger slamming down onto a heavily fortified, neutral zone right at the intersection of the two landmasses.
He turned back to look at my calcified bone mask, his expression turning deeply grim.
"Town Balka sits directly on the precarious borders of Andromeda and the Milky Way Continent. Because of its geographic placement, it operates outside the jurisdiction of both the Holy Bureau and the local beast-kin warlords. It's a notorious neutral haven… a melting pot where high-tier rogue elements, black-market merchants, and specialized enclaves manage the flow of illicit cargo between continents. If Laulif Flower has a sovereign base where his syndicate processes human assets without interference from the demi-human executioners, Town Balka is his gateway."
I sat in absolute silence, the tactical data locking into place with mechanical precision. Town Balka. The final piece of the puzzle. My three-month summoning countdown was ticking, my accelerated pregnancy required me to secure my retirement fund immediately, and my target was waiting at the continental threshold.
I reached out with my singular right hand, sliding the crucial letters and the ancestral files back into my leather purse alongside the Registry of the Condemned. I stood up from the chair, my tattered crimson trench coat billowing slightly as the Crimson Phantom prepared to cross the border and end the Bloom Syndicate once and for all.
"I suppose that I have a map leading to Balka, It is in my desk... somewhere under these provincial tax logs, perhaps."
He began rifling through the deep, heavy mahogany drawers, shifting old parchment maps and official state ledgers out of the way. After a few seconds of searching, his face lit up.
"Aha, there it is."
Phillip pulled out a tightly rolled, leather-bound scroll tied with a simple twine string. Without warning, he looked up and said,
"Catch, Bounty Hunter!"
With a swift flick of his wrist, he tossed the scroll across the room. My singular, pale right hand shot out with predatory reflex, snatching the map cleanly out of the air before it could even think of hitting the floorboards.
I unrolled the parchment right there, my single green eye scanning the intricate ink lines beneath the shadow of my Leech's Hollow Mask. It was a highly detailed topological map of Town Balka. According to the legends and the geographic markers, Balka was a bustling, high-density riverside town built along the rushing currents of the continental divide. It was a true melting pot, composed entirely of humans and various demi-human factions who operated outside the laws of the main kingdoms. Because of its massive, deep-water river network, the demi-human population here wasn't just made up of standard mammalian beastkins and secluded elves… it was heavily populated by aquatic species, specifically sirens and dagons who controlled the underwater trade routes and the docks.
"It is located directly to the west of Town Allure, If you were to travel by standard merchant carriage, it would be a solid half-day trip through the rocky border passes." Lord Phillip explained, pointing toward the western edge of the grand wall map behind him.
A half-day trip by carriage meant I could cut that time significantly in half if I deployed my skeletal blood wings under the cover of the upcoming twilight, bypassing the dangerous mountain roads entirely.
The path was set. I had the target, the evidence, and now the exact layout of the gateway town where Laulif Flower was orchestrating his cross-continental flesh trade. I carefully rolled the leather map back up and slid it into my purse alongside the Registry of the Condemned and the Calico documents, keeping my firearms and weaponized tear gas ready for the storm ahead.
I offered Lord Phillip a single, deep, and respectful silent nod of my heavy hood… a ghost's final thanks to the ruler who still mourned the human girl I used to be. Turning on my heel, my tattered crimson trench coat billowed around my boots as I pushed open the heavy oak door and left the administrative office completely, stepping back into the shadows of the bureau to begin the final march toward Town Balka.
I stepped out of the Adventurers Bureau and into the bustling morning air of Town Allure. The sun was rising higher into the sky, casting a bright, unforgiving glare across the cobblestones. In my current condition… carrying an accelerated demonic pregnancy that steadily drained my internal mana reserves… flying to Town Balka in broad daylight was completely out of the question. The solar rays would blister my translucent alabaster skin, and a one-armed, winged crimson phantom soaring through the western skies would immediately alert the border scouts.
Carriage travel was my only viable option to cover the half-day journey without drawing the kingdom's military forces down on my head.
I cut through the crowded Central Plaza, keeping my heavy hood pulled low over the calcified lines of the Leech's Hollow Mask. My boots clicked rhythmically against the dirt as I marched back toward the main town gates. Because it was early morning, the perimeter was choked with logistical noise. Dozens of covered wagons and merchant carriages were lined up in a massive queue, preparing to transport provincial goods, wild grapes, and textiles to various cities across the continent. It was the absolute peak hour to hitch a ride.
Navigating through the maze of wooden wheels and resting horses, I approached a burly merchant who was busy tightening the leather straps on his cargo wagon. Because of my complete inability to speak, I reached out with my pale right hand and firmly tapped his upper back.
The man spun around, a frustrated remark dying in his throat the moment his eyes locked onto my imposing crimson trench coat and the hollow, predatory slit of my bone mask. I didn't let him linger on his fear; I quickly held up my notepad, showing a sharp, pre-written destination:
"TOWN BALKA."
The merchant blinked, clearing his throat nervously as he glanced at the note.
"Uh, sorry, traveler, this wagon is bound for Carcaka. Wrong direction entirely." he muttered, shaking his head and pointing toward his own heavily stacked crates.
He paused, shifting his gaze down the long line of vehicles before pointing a thick finger toward a sturdy, black-tarped carriage parked three spots ahead.
"If you're heading for the border passes, that one over there is bound for Balka. He handles the western river routes."
I offered him a single, silent nod of appreciation and walked past the horses to the designated carriage. The merchant running this wagon was an older, weathered man checking a logistics ledger. I stepped into his field of vision, holding up the same note.
He looked from the paper to the Registry of the Condemned peeking slightly from my purse, recognizing the lethal aura of a high-tier bounty hunter. He rubbed his stubbled chin.
"Heading out to the neutral zone, are we? It's a rough road through the western cliffs. That'll be twenty silver coins for the passage."
I reached into my leather purse, my translucent fingers bypassing my spatial inventory ring to pull out exactly twenty silver pieces. I dropped the coins into his open palm with a quiet, metallic rattle.
"Fair enough. Hop into the back, Hunter. We set out immediately," the merchant said, gesturing toward the rear of the wagon.
I climbed into the covered cargo hold, my heavy boots settling among stacks of grain sacks, wooden supply crates, and preserved provincial rations. Pulling the heavy canvas flap shut behind me, I plunged myself into a deeply comforting, shadowed seclusion. I leaned my back against a wooden crate, my right hand resting protectively over my abdomen as the carriage jolted forward, the rhythmic clatter of iron wheels signaling the beginning of my descent into Town Balka.