Rein moved through the market, his eyes scanning for potential work. Unlike Luxana, who possessed and could trade vast amounts of information, or Shilley, who could talk her way into nearly anything, he had to rely on something simple, manual labor.

  After asking around, he found a local baker who needed help moving heavy sacks of grain from the farmlands on the eastern outskirts back to his storage. It wasn’t glamorous, but it would earn him coin, and more importantly, an opportunity to learn more about the city from someone who had lived through its changes.

  The walk to the fields took him past rows of industrial farming equipment, tall, rusted harvesters groaned as they rolled over the land, collecting wheat in thick bundles, while smaller, human-led teams worked beneath the rising sun. Sweat-drenched workers moved methodically, their faces marked with exhaustion, their hands calloused from years of labor. The once-fertile soil bore the scars of overuse, but the city relied on these fields to survive.

  The baker, a broad-shouldered man in his late forties, walked beside Rein, his expression thoughtful. "Used to be, we didn’t need all this heavy machinery running day and night," he mused, motioning to the harvesters. "Fields were richer back then. Didn’t have to squeeze the land dry just to meet quota."

  Rein adjusted the sack over his shoulder. "That before the new lord took over?"

  The baker snorted. "Before a lot of things. Life wasn’t perfect, big cities never are. We had gangs causing trouble, pickpockets lurking in alleys, even the occasional demonic attack on the outer roads. But the city guard kept things in check. We weren’t living in fear, at least not like now."

  Rein glanced at him. "Demonic attacks? How frequent were they?"

  The baker frowned, considering. "It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t call them some organized force or anything, just wandering hordes, wild things, as if they had no real purpose but to kill. But they got worse over time. The last fifteen years or so? You started hearing about them hitting closer and closer to major settlements.”

  That struck a nerve. Fifteen years. Rein kept his expression neutral but felt his stomach tighten.

  "My father told me when he was a boy, things were different," the baker continued. "Back then, demons? Barely ever seen, just old stories people used to scare their kids into behaving. But now? By the time I was a man, they were becoming a real threat. At least... until the new lord came."

  Rein furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

  The baker sighed. "Ever since he took over, the demon attacks... just stopped. Like someone flipped a switch. Senthos came in, took control, and suddenly, we weren’t dealing with night raids or missing caravans anymore. Now, maybe that’s because of Senthos’ so-called protection, or maybe... well, maybe something else." His voice dipped lower. "I don’t pretend to know how all this works. But peace came at a cost. And we’re suffering in different ways now."

  Rein remained silent for a moment, mulling over the implications. No demon attacks since the new lord arrived. Why?

  As they reached the storage house, the baker wiped sweat from his brow. "Lived here all my life," he said, changing the subject. "Got a wife, a little girl. She’s six."

  Rein gave a small nod. "That’s a good age. She must keep you busy."

  The baker chuckled softly, but there was an underlying tension in his voice. "She does. And this week, more than ever, I’m just glad it wasn’t her."

  Rein frowned. "Glad for what?"

  The baker looked at him, then away, as if realizing he had said too much. "It’s... selection week."

  Something in Rein’s chest tightened. "Selection week?"

  The baker let out a slow breath. "Every month, three children are taken. Sent to Senthos for ‘education,’ they say. Chosen by the officials, no real explanation given. Parents hand them over, or else. Some say it’s an honor, that the children will be given a better life, but if that’s true, why do the families never hear from them again? No letters, no visits, nothing. It’s as if they vanish the moment they leave the city gates."

  Rein felt his grip tighten around the sack of grain. His jaw clenched. This city keeps getting worse by the second.

  "You didn’t know?" the baker asked, noticing his expression.

  Rein forced himself to stay calm. "No. But I do now."

  He let the words settle for a moment before glancing back at the baker. "When did this start? Has it always been like this?"

  The baker shook his head. "No. This 'selection', it’s new. Started just after the new lord took over, maybe a year ago. Before that, we had our struggles, but no one was taking children from their homes. Whatever reason they give, whatever they claim, this isn't tradition, it's something forced onto us."

  Rein didn’t like it one damn bit.

  His fingers tightened around the sack of grain, knuckles whitening as something deep and unsettled churned in his chest. This, this went against everything he believed in. Against the world he wanted to build. A world where children didn’t grow up ripped from their families, where they weren’t forced into a future they had no say in.

  He didn’t remember much about his own past. His earliest memories were fragmented, blurry images of warmth, of hands that once held him gently, voices that had long since faded into whispers. He had no idea what had happened to his parents, no idea if they had given him up willingly or if something had taken them from him. But he did know what it meant to grow up without them.

  And now, he was staring at a system designed to ensure that loss continued, month after month, generation after generation. Not by accident. By design.

  His gut twisted, his breathing steady but shallow as he forced himself to swallow the growing fire inside him. He couldn’t let it boil over. Not yet. But this wasn’t something he could ignore.

  Because if people like him did nothing, then nothing would ever change.

  Rein exhaled sharply, shoving down his frustration as he hoisted the last sack of grain into place. The physical labor did little to settle his mind, but at least it gave him something to focus on. The baker clapped him on the back, handing him a small pouch of coins. "You did good work today, lad."

  Rein forced a nod, pocketing the payment. "Thanks."

  As he stepped outside, the weight of what he had learned still sat heavy on him. The world could be cruel, he had long accepted that. He had learned to let some things go, to push past injustices he couldn’t fix. But this, this was something he couldn’t ignore. Wouldn’t ignore.

  Children ripped from their parents, forced into a fate they never chose, this was the very thing he had spent his life fighting against. This wasn’t just another law, another tax, another form of oppression. This was a line he couldn’t let stand.

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  It didn’t matter what it cost him personally, he would find a way to break this tradition. To tear it apart, piece by piece.

  But for his traveling companions? He couldn’t make that choice for them. If he stood against a lord’s decree in a city like this, things would turn ugly, fast. He needed to talk to Luxana, Shilley, and Xetran. He had to give them the choice to walk away.

  And the mission… his mission. He knew it would be put in jeopardy. He understood that his impulses, his inability to turn away from things like this, made him a liability. He knew it, but it didn’t change anything. Something in him was broken. And this, this was something he couldn’t turn his back on.

  He would ask the others to continue their mission without him. Because no matter what, he had to see this through.

  With that thought in mind, Rein set off into the streets, his frustration now sharpened into purpose.

  The bar was dimly lit, the stale scent of cheap ale and old wood hanging in the air. Rein stepped inside, immediately spotting his companions at a corner table. They were already deep in conversation, their drinks half-finished. Xetran lounged back lazily, Luxana sat with her usual composed expression, and Shilley animatedly gestured as she spoke.

  Rein had been rehearsing what he was going to say the entire walk over, but now, standing in front of them, his carefully planned speech suddenly felt clumsy. He exhaled, pulling out a chair, and decided to just get it over with.

  "I need to tell you all something," he started, his voice steady but weighted with the full weight of his decision. "I've learned about this city's selection process, and I’ve made up my mind. I can’t walk away from this.

  This isn't just another city under cruel rule. This isn’t just another corrupt lord tightening his grip. This is something worse. They are taking children, children, away from their families. And the people here? They don’t fight back. Not because they don’t want to, but because they can’t. Because this system was built to keep them too afraid, too exhausted, too broken to resist.

  I’ve spent my life trying not to care about things I can’t change. I’ve forced myself to let go of things that were beyond me. But this? This is something I won’t let go. Ever. No matter what it costs me.

  I know this isn’t part of our mission, and I know going against a lord’s decree in a city like this could get ugly, fast. I’m not asking you to stay. This is my decision, and if it puts everything else at risk, I accept that. But I won’t stand by and let this happen.

  I have to stop this."

  He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. No one spoke.

  Then, Shilley smirked and pushed herself up from her chair, dramatically placing a hand over her chest like a noble lady in some grand story. "Oh, Rein," she began, her voice dripping with mock admiration, "that was so noble of you! Taking on this fight all on your own! How truly selfless, how considerate of you to assume we’d all just pack up and leave while you charge into some heroic blaze of glory!" She even threw in a theatrical sigh for good measure before dropping back into her seat with a smirk.

  "Honestly, you big dumbass," she continued, "maybe if you stopped rehearsing speeches and actually listened, you'd know we already knew about this whole ‘selection’ thing. We were just discussing how to investigate further and figure out how to stop it."

  Rein blinked. "...What?"

  Rein frowned. "Wait, so, "

  "So you can shove your macho self-sacrificing bullshit up your ass, because we’re not letting you take this on alone." She leaned back with a grin. "Nice speech, though. Very dramatic."

  Xetran chuckled, raising his drink. "That was quite the performance. I almost teared up."

  Even Luxana allowed a small, amused smile.

  Rein exhaled, rubbing his temple as the tension inside him finally loosened just a bit. He wasn’t alone in this. They weren’t going anywhere.

  He should’ve known better.

  Xetran leaned back, tapping his fingers idly against the rim of his glass. "Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by our hero..." He sent another amused glance at Rein, who scowled, his face turning a shade redder. "I had a rather interesting evening while the rest of you were preoccupied. Seems our dear city lord isn't as untouchable as he wants everyone to believe."

  Rein narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

  Xetran swirled the liquid in his glass, his smirk deepening. "Oh, you know me. I like to keep my ear to the ground. I learned a few things about the estate, big place, practically a fortress, but even fortresses have cracks if you know where to look."

  Shilley folded her arms, eyes narrowing at Xetran with suspicion. "You always know too much."

  Xetran smirked, raising his glass slightly. "Thank you, I shall take that as a compliment."

  Then, with a sudden shift of his expression, his gaze flicked toward Shilley with a knowing glint. "Speaking of things I know… I've also noticed a certain someone sneaking looks at our dear Rein whenever he's too distracted to notice. Quite longing looks, I must say."

  Shilley's face immediately reddened. "What?! I was not, I, you're imagining things, you smug bastard!"

  Xetran chuckled, leaning forward, resting his chin against his palm. "Oh, I see. So if I were to ask why you don’t look at me like that, you'd have no answer? I could make it worth your while, you know."

  Shilley groaned, covering her face as Xetran laughed. Rein, who had been absorbing everything seriously up until now, suddenly noted something interesting, he wasn’t the only one stealing glances.

  Luxana tilted her head slightly. "You already have a way in."

  Xetran grinned. "I might have several. The real question is, which game do we want to play?"

  He raised a finger. "We could go with the classic approach, stealing guard uniforms and blending in. There's a supply drop arriving tomorrow morning, fresh gear for recruits. We could slip in unnoticed if we time it right. Of course, that requires looking the part, avoiding suspicion, and praying none of the other guards ask too many questions."

  He lifted a second finger. "Or, if you prefer something a little more... artistic, I could weave a bit of illusion magic. Temporary disguises, tailored to whoever we need to be. The trick? The spell only covers appearances, not voices, not mannerisms. We’d have to be damn good at acting."

  A third finger went up. "And then, the most direct option, there’s an old smuggler’s tunnel running beneath the estate. It’s not exactly a secret, but it's not used as much these days, thanks to Senthos tightening security. It leads to the wine cellars, which means we’d be inside before anyone knew it. The downside? No excuse for being there if we’re caught."

  He lowered his hand, flashing an easy grin. "So. Stealth, deception, or good old-fashioned sneaking? I leave the choice to you."

  Xetran lowered his hand, flashing an easy grin. "Now, if we’re being practical, and for once, I do mean practical, our best shot is the guard uniforms."

  He leaned forward slightly, enjoying their focus on him. "Everyone expects new recruits to be clueless and out of place. If we act like we belong, no one will question us. Well, unless one of you does something stupid."

  He smirked. "And the best part? Once we’re inside, we can go anywhere. Restricted zones, patrol routes, we’ll see everything first-hand. Much better than fumbling around in tunnels or relying on illusions that could break at the wrong time."

  His grin widened. "So, what do we think? Shall we play soldier for the evening?"

  The group had been nursing their drinks when the distant sound of raised voices filtered into the tavern. A commotion outside. Rein glanced at Luxana, who was already shifting in her seat, sensing something amiss. Shilley’s ears perked up, catching murmurs from nearby patrons.

  "Something’s happening in the city center," someone whispered.

  Rein didn’t wait for discussion. He stood, tossing a few coins onto the table. "Let’s go."

  They stepped outside into the crowded streets, where people were moving with grim purpose toward the heart of the city. No one spoke, but the tension was palpable. The group exchanged wary glances and followed.

  By the time they reached the square, a suffocating stillness had fallen over the gathered masses. The execution platform stood ominously in the center, its dark wooden beams splintered and stained from previous deaths. The air was heavy, thick with an unspoken dread, yet no one spoke out. No one resisted.

  The group had gathered at the edge of the square, blending in with the onlookers. Mira stood on the platform, her hands bound, her face pale but resolute. Beside her, a Senthos official read aloud her crimes in a monotone voice, attempting to resist the lord’s rule, conspiring against order.

  Rein turned to a nearby onlooker, his voice low but firm. "What happened?"

  The man, an older citizen with wary eyes, barely glanced at him before muttering, "She’s one of the mothers. Her child was selected, and she resisted."

  Rein felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. His grip tightened at his sides as he turned his gaze back toward the platform.

  Shilley clenched her fists, every fiber of her being screaming at the injustice. Luxana remained still, but her jaw was set, her eyes cold and sharp. Even Xetran, normally detached from mortal affairs, watched with an expression unreadable.

  Mira lifted her head, searching the crowd, her lips parting as if to speak. And then,

  The executioner’s blade fell.

  A single, short scream was snuffed out in an instant.

  Her body crumpled, lifeless, to the wooden platform. The silence stretched on, suffocating, until the official turned back to the crowd. "Let this serve as a lesson," he announced. "Defiance will not be tolerated."

  Shilley turned away first, her nails digging into her palms. Luxana exhaled slowly, but her fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to reach for her weapon. Rein's jaw tightened, his hands curled into fists. He was already struggling to keep his anger in check, but this… this was pushing him to the edge.

  They had seen enough. They knew now, the lord and his rules needed to be destroyed.