During my time here, I had been meeting Thubir regularly, taking care of him on a monthly basis. Sometimes, even Diagung would show up. I hid this from everyone, meeting them in diagung's nest. It had taken me some time, but I renovated it in somewhat a house—big enough for the two of them. They had their differences, sure, but they lived together now. That was good enough.
Thubir had grown. He was nearly as big as me now, and I could ride him with ease instead of him just carrying me around. Whenever I needed to communicate with them, I used Diagung's eyes—relaying my words through the crow. Diagung was still as stingy as ever, but at least he talked. And even though he never spoke an actual word, somehow, I understood him. I still hadn't figured out why.
This time, I had told Diagung to send Thubir to my location.
Thubir had grown smarter thanks to Diagung. He could understand the world's structure now—something akin to coordinates. I had tried working with the world map before, but it was… off. There was something missing, something that didn't quite fit together. I'd have to redraw it based on my own senses, but that was a problem for another time. For now, I just needed Thubir to reach the spirit lines of this village.
Spirit lines were like the latitudes and longitudes of the spirit realm. Thubir could cross them easily.
He was coming.
I finished my food and stood up—just in time to see a streak of blue light flash across the sky.
A second later, lightning struck.
It crashed down onto the warehouse—the one with the basement. The impact sent a roar of thunder through the village, igniting the structure in an instant. Flames burst out, swallowing the building whole.
I turned, acting shocked. "Frier! We need help!"
Frier came running. The people who had been tailing me rushed in as well.
The two of us dove into the flames, pulling out people as fast as we could. Smoke stung my throat, heat pressing down from all sides, but I pushed through. I needed to find the basement.
But no matter where I searched, I couldn't find a way in.
"This is the last one!" Frier shouted. He had a woman slumped in his arms, coughing violently.
I ran over, taking her onto my back. "I got her—let's go!"
Frier nodded, following close behind.
Just before we reached outside, I whispered, "Frier, stay here. This is the place where the stolen goods are."
His eyes widened in shock. He covered his mouth with a cloth, nodding once before slipping into a corner.
I ran out, coughing. The people who had been following me now looked more concerned than suspicious.
"H-Hey," I wheezed, staggering slightly. "There are more people inside—I'll get them!"
I turned and rushed back in.
The moment I crossed the threshold, I shut the door behind me and pressed my hand to the ground.
I focused.
The land. Its properties. The structure beneath me.
Subtly, I began shifting the earth.
A wall.
It rose up behind the door, sealing the exit.
I reached Frier, grabbing his arm before heading to a large box. He helped me push it aside, revealing the entrance to the basement.
I had already found it earlier—when I was making the wall.
The two of us slipped inside.
It was silent.
I leaned toward Frier, whispering, "They know we're here. Stay here. I'll go in first. When I signal, come down to help me."
Frier nodded.
The basement was well-lit, bright enough to make out the artifacts stacked neatly on the sides. This wasn't just a storage space—it was a full underground house. I stepped past the entrance room, moving cautiously into what seemed to be a living area.
Two men stood there.
The guards.
The ones who were supposed to deliver the artifacts. The ones who had stolen them instead.
One of them spoke first. "So, who sent you, Varson?"
I nodded. "Well, time for you to get arrested."
The other man—Jon—snorted. "Simon, this one thinks we didn't expect this." He tilted his head. "And too bad you came alone."
Then, after a pause—
"Uh, Jon." Simon's eyes flicked toward the entrance room. "There's another one with him."
My gaze locked onto Simon.
"You a Clarion user?"
Silence.
I didn't need an answer. I could feel it through the ground—seven people in total, all of them aware of me.
All of them ready to attack.
I sighed. "Hey… listen. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." I raised a hand. "Easy way—surrender. Hard way—"
Simon lunged.
His speed was decent, but I had already seen it coming. My fist shot out, slamming into his throat. He choked, stumbling back as he gasped for air.
Jon moved next. I caught his leg mid-kick, twisting it before driving my fist straight into his gut. He collapsed to the ground.
One thing they hadn't realized—
With the Clarion of Touch, I had iron grip. I could lift things weighing over 200kg with ease. My punches weren't the strongest in this world, but for common thieves? More than enough.
A sharp glint caught my eye—
A knife.
It flew toward me.
Before it could reach, a wall shot up from the ground, blocking the attack.
I turned my head, spotting the thrower in the corner.
He hesitated.
He tried to slip out of the couch—
—and immediately struggled.
"…I give up," he muttered.
"…What?"
"I can't get out. I'm stuck."
I stared at him. Blankly.
Behind me, I could feel Frier fighting three people at once.
Daresay he's winning.
Despite not being able to use Clarion, he was skilled in combat. If he was holding up fine, then that meant—
There was one more.
I turned toward the other room.
A woman stood there, sharpening her knife.
She smiled.
Then pounced.
No words. No hesitation.
The knife went straight for my head.
I blocked it—using the same knife I had picked up earlier.
Fast.
Her blade clashed against mine, her attacks relentless. A second later, she feinted—
Then punched me hard in the thigh.
I staggered.
"—Ooooff. Fuck. That hurt."
The feint into a punch—smart. That meant—
I exhaled, sharpening my focus.
She wasn't just some skilled thief.
She was the Clarion user here.
Not the man from before.
She must've been the one who sensed Frier.
Her Clarion…
I could figure it out.
Just give me a second.
But she wasn't giving me time to think.
Her slashes came fast—precise, relentless, all aimed at vital spots.
For a mere thief, she was too skilled.
Unless…
I caught her wrist mid-strike. With a sharp twist, I disarmed her, sending her knife clattering to the floor.
"In terms of combat, you're skilled," I said, tightening my grip. "But I was trained by Gars."
Her eyes barely had time to widen before I moved.
I threw a punch toward her liver—
She braced for it.
I feinted.
Instead, my foot shot up, landing a solid kick to her gut.
She gasped, doubling over as she hit the ground, coughing hard.
Gars is a maniac. A genius fighter.
I had never won against him.
But recently, he had told me something.
That I was one of the strongest fighters he had faced lately.
It was the only praise he had ever given me.
At the time, I hadn't realized what it meant. But now, standing over the woman as she struggled to breathe, I understood.
Fighting wasn't just useful.
It was necessary.
I looked down at her.
"Hela, informant of Varson. You need to surrender. Clarion of Vision user."
She froze.
Surprise flickered in her eyes.
Well, figuring it out hadn't been hard.
She had aimed perfectly at my vital points.
Sure, you could learn that from books. But to pinpoint them this accurately? That was different. Each person's body was unique—height, proportions, muscle density. It changed slightly for everyone. Yet, she had adjusted on the fly.
That meant it was the Clarion of vision.
A sensory one, like the Clarion of Touch.
But if she had the Clarion of Touch, she would have checked my body structure first. She hadn't.
And besides—
What's the best way to steal something?
Work with the person who knows everything about the merchant.
The informant.
She had planned everything. Knew all the details of the trade routes. Picked out the most valuable artifacts. Set up the warning system.
It was all her.
—
By the time we stepped outside, the remaining thieves had already been subdued.
The ones who had warned them about us sat on the ground, heads lowered in defeat.
Frier had contacted Varson earlier, and his men had arrived at the village. Meanwhile, the other four who went downstream had taken their sweet time arriving—
But somehow, they had captured twenty people.
I frowned. "Why'd you capture them? Me and Frier already caught the criminals."
Prism glanced at Hela, then back at the group they had arrested. Douglas and Caton looked equally confused—until they held up a few artifacts.
Sonovan stepped forward. "Then I guess we didn't find your thieves," he said. "But these guys are criminals too. They were in possession of stolen artifacts. No permits."
Frier snorted. "Ha. Guess we hit a bird with two stones."
"No," I muttered. "That's not how the saying—"
I was cut off by the guards arriving from Varson's estate.
They moved efficiently, securing the captured thieves.
By the time the sky had darkened, a soldier approached me.
"Lord Varson requests your presence tomorrow to discuss your payment."
I smiled. "Alright. I'll be there."
Sonovan turned to me. "Thanks. You even found the missing informant… even if she turned out to be behind it."
I shrugged. "No need to thank me. I'm getting paid for it."
He chuckled.
Douglas grinned. "Let's have a drink sometime."
The five of them left.
—
I returned to where I had left my clothes—
only to find the village kids wearing them.
"Hey. Those are mine. Take them off."
The kids ignored me.
—
By the time I reached home, Gars was already sitting at the table.
He glanced up when I entered, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Bad day?"
I tossed my coat onto a chair, exhaling. "No… it was good."
Then, after a moment—
"Hey, Gars."
He looked at me.
"When you said I was the strongest you've fought recently…"
I met his gaze.
"What did you mean by that?"
"I meant you've gotten a lot better since the start. And don't get me wrong—you're still plenty weak—but compared to before, it's like heaven and hell. The difference is massive."
I glanced at him as he continued speaking, his arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Still, don't let it get to your head. A fight means you either win, or you die. Just because you've improved doesn't mean you're anywhere near the peak. Keep learning."
I let out a small smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know."
I looked around the room. "Where are the others?"
"No idea. Just me and Monday at the house."
"Monday?"
As if on cue, he walked out of the kitchen, setting a plate of food on the table. The rich aroma filled the room, warm and inviting.
"Here," he said. "Help yourself."
I sat down, eating with Gars and Monday. The food was delicious—unsurprising. Monday had developed a habit of cooking, and he was good at it, too. His food was... unique. You could tell what he was feeling just by tasting it. Whether he was nervous, happy, or deep in thought, it always showed in the flavors. Today's meal? It tasted like he was in a decent mood.
"What's the occasion?" I asked.
Monday smiled. "Nothing. Just feeling good today."
We finished eating, the quiet atmosphere settling around us. As I stood up to head to my room, my gaze landed on something sitting on Wanora's table. A folded paper.
I picked it up.
And as my eyes scanned the contents, I paused.
—
[Grand Auction Night – A Discreet Request]
Issuer: Madam Elora Veyne, Auctioneer & Proprietor of Veyne's House of Rarities.
Location: Veyne's Auction Hall, Noble District.
Reward: Gold, favors, and access to private auctions—if you prove useful.
The Situation:
The Grand Auction Night is approaching. An evening of wealth, power, and secrets, all gathered under one roof. But not everyone is here to bid. Rival houses are making moves. Some bidders will try to cheat their way through the night. And then… there's a matter that requires a more delicate touch.
Tasks Available:
— Security Detail: Certain "guests" aren't here to admire the auction pieces. Make sure they don't get the chance to cause trouble.
— Silent Observers: There will be bidders who don't play fair. Keep your eyes open. If anyone tries something, handle it—quietly.
Payment:
— 50 gold per basic task completed.
— 300+ gold for critical tasks.
— Exceptional service will grant access to private auctions.
Requirements:
— Discretion.
— Intelligence.
— The ability to handle unexpected situations.
— No ties to rival auction houses.
—Madam Elora Veyne
—
"An auction, huh?" I muttered, tapping the edge of the request against my palm. "Well, doesn't really bother me. Would be a lot better if Wanora went instead."
Gars snorted. "You think she'd go willingly?"
I shrugged. "She likes money, doesn't she?"
Monday chuckled as he gathered the empty plates. "Liking money and dealing with noble district politics are two different things."
"Daresay, let's just leave it to her," I said, tossing the request back onto Wanora's table.