"Besides, I know that one of you was listening."
She scanned the shop once more, this time using perception magecraft. The greenish glimmer in her eyes helped her see the intricate foundations of the Theurgic Field, but more importantly, it also revealed a short, black-haired girl clinging to one of the counter's wooden pillars.
"It was you, wasn't it?" The black-haired girl was concealed underneath a layer of illusion magecraft, though it only masked her physical presence, not her Mana flow. "I recognize the Mana signature of the residuals left on my Periapts. Next time, either obliterate them or use a more thorough concealment method."
The black-haired girl slid down the pillars and landed on the floor, dispelling her illusion.
Around twelve years old, she had mismatched brown-and-green eyes and a crooked nose, giving her, along with her frail physique and dirty clothes, the appearance of a slum rat.
"Your eyes are sharp. You're a little too careless at times, though. Not someone I'd willingly trust with my back."
Nysa dismissed her jab with a sneer, moving her gaze toward the shopkeeper. "I didn't know the Mekkubal Order ran a local orphanage."
"What makes you say that?" The young man calmly asked.
"She's obviously Hierapetran. Probably a 10th-class magus. The fact that you hired such an amateur as a mercenary means you're quite short-staffed. Do the Henosis Seekers elude you that well?"
The black-haired girl was about to snap when the shopkeeper cut her off with a hand gesture, maintaining his inexpressive face.
"What do you want?"
"I wish to cooperate. I'm willing to give you the information you lack—in exchange, I'll need a small favor."
"Let's hear it," the blue-haired young man said. "What are your demands?"
"On the 15th of December, four days from now and one day before the Sacrificial Ceremony... I want you to launch an all-out assault on the Henosis Seekers hidden in Priene."
"What?!" The blonde young woman yelled, no longer attempting to hide that she was listening. "Are you insane? Do you wish to blow our cover? We'd no longer be able to hold a base in Hierapetra!"
"Quiet, Zimra," the shopkeeper said. He then let out a barely noticeable sigh, staring at Nysa. "How accurate is your source?"
"Bianor of Cebrene's unfiltered, untainted memories. There will be no source more accurate than this one."
"You do realize that you are going to establish a verbal contract with a Mystery?" He calmly explained. "If you attempt to lie, no nation will be safe enough to shelter you from our reprisal."
"As long as you swear to uphold your part of the contract, there will be no problems," Nysa said. "Now, shall we begin?"
"You can't be serious, Jonam!" The girl named Zimra intervened again. "What happened to quietly disposing of them all without incurring the Temple of Stars' wrath?"
"That was before we had a solid lead about their hideout," Jonam answered without missing a beat.
"Even so, we don't have enough manpower. More than two-thirds of our forces died in Juktas before we realized something was amiss with Bianor. We can't lose our sole foothold in Hierapetra—"
"Shh," the bearded man cut her off, looking suspiciously at Nysa. "You're talking too much. We don't know if she's an ally yet."
"There's no point in filters right now, Giron. She has Iphiclus' trust," the red-haired man spoke in turn. "Still, I agree with Zimra. We're not equipped to openly face the Henosis Seekers here in Priene."
"You forget that it's not our decision to take, Yasrur," Jonam turned to the brown-haired woman with the square cut. "Please, Madam Neshava."
The woman, still holding her broom, had been quiet since she had ensured Iphiclus' coin's authenticity. She responded to Jonam's gesture with a faint smile, too artificial to be called human, and let go of her tool, standing eerily motionless for a few seconds.
After her pause, Neshava slowly raised a hand, placing it in front of her mouth. Then, without hesitation, she plunged her entire arm down her throat, grasping at something lodged in her esophagus.
When she ultimately started pulling, the sound of grinding bones and flesh echoed in the shop, reminding Nysa of Bianor's torture.
In a gruesome display of inhuman physiology, she took out an entire clay tablet without a single grunt. It was rectangular, thin, and nearly half her size. Streaks of blood and saliva dripped from the object, landing in rhythmic drops on the floor.
Behind her, Nysa heard the black-haired girl gagging.
"As the Prolocutor of Priene's branch, I shall now establish the communication link," Neshava spoke in a clear voice, unfazed.
The Mana flow in the shop abruptly shifted, heading for the clay tablet instead of the Theurgic Field. Black, gray, and white strands of cold light all converged toward it, yet instead of crumbling like any other object, the tablet seemingly regained its dormant functions.
From the power it exuded, Nysa judged it to be at least a Grade 2 Relic. Those were mystical artifacts capable of mimicking High Thaumaturgy. Their value was astronomical for a magus.
"Alchemist Ophir Yannai has responded to the call," Neshava added, "I will translate his commands as per the usual protocol. Please remember that he has access to my core's memories, meaning he already knows the details of this situation."
Core... Alchemist... Nysa's head spun so fast her thoughts blurred. She's a Homunculus! No, not only her. Most of them are. The only one who is human is that twelve-year-old magus. Are the members of the Mekkubal Order present in Priene only Homunculi?
She glanced around her, realizing that everyone was bowing toward Neshava's position.
An irritating sound echoed from the clay tablet. Lines were being carved on its surface out of nowhere, writing a sentence in a language Nysa could not read. However, it seemed to be the case for nearly everyone, as Neshava began to translate the message in a distorted voice:
Greetings. I am Ophir Yannai.
The carved lines shifted with abnormal fluidity, perfectly matching the speed of someone talking at a moderate pace.
First of all, Segment I Zimra and Segment III Yasrur. You are hereby relieved of your duties as Homunculi. May you know peace in another life.
It happened in an instant and with no warning.
Before Nysa knew it, flesh and brain matter splattered all over the newly swept floor.
Her eyes widened as she followed the bloody trail, realizing that the skulls of the blonde girl and the red-haired man had just exploded. Their limp corpses lay there, unmoving and drowning in their own fluids.
The black-haired girl nearly screamed, her whole body trembling. She forced herself to keep bowing, even though her knees threatened to buckle at any moment.
Neshava continued translating the clay tablet's message, her fake smile unwavering.
Our enemies are the Henosis Seekers. Our purpose is to eradicate them.
As long as it ensures their obliteration, there is no method we will not attempt and no sacrifice we will not make.
This truth applies even to you, Homunculi. We crafted you to be the weapons that will allow us to reach our goal. The moment you forego this notion, you are already obsolete.
We have no need for defective tools.