The group was walking through the market district located on the outermost layer of the multi-layered onion of a city. Despite being the trade hub that it was, Chevalia was a heavily fortified city, reflecting centuries of war in both its high walls separating the various districts and the remnants of age-old scars carved into the older structures. It was especially prominent in the outer layers, outside the noble's notice.
The buildings they passed were built mostly in a mix of neo-gothic and neo-classic styles. Many of these featured a stylized, successive arched structure with stone pillars both supporting the roofs and adding an aesthetic touch reminiscent of roman architecture.
None were greater than three stories though. The city was built to be quickly repaired if significantly damaged. Everything in Umbra was built that way, regardless of the maturity of the civilization. The high towers of modern Earth were nice, but the intricacies of their design were much too complex to quickly fix with magic. As such, outside of the grandest structures, most architecture was made with these limitations in mind. Use magitech where able.
When all this was combined with the onyx-colored stone the locals used to build most of it, the overall feel of the city was rather earie to the uninitiated, not that any of the mix of vampiric and human residents realized any of it. In fact, this was a common style amongst the vampiric settlements. Even if it was 'borrowed' from human designers on Earth, few of note would ever admit it.
After all, who'd want to admit something as disgraceful as their ancestors stealing from their inferiors? That, and the difference in the construction materials available to Umbrian citizens made just enough of a difference for plausible deniability to be somewhat feasible.
At least the signs were built with neon lights to liven the atmosphere. It added a unique flair that made this district look like the combination of a historical city and Las Vegas, a strange but novel mixture.
Currently in this strange city, the crowds were bustling. There was barely any room to maneuver with streams of people moving on both sides of the streets. In the center was bumper to bumper traffic on two-lane roads as transport vehicles struggled to move an inch. It largely consisted of pick-up trucks and larger SUVs; both had large, all-terrain wheels and were likely packed with goods. Fortunately for the pedestrians, there were very few erroneous horns being blown from the stranded cars. No one wanted to piss off a nearby noble; it wouldn't end well.
"The city sure is lively." Michael whimsically noted, now sporting a black T-shirt under a dark brown jacket, and loose-fit Khaki pants.
"Hmph~ I bet most of these chuckle heads waited till the last minute to shop." Illya dismissively replied, not sparing an ounce of attention.
She for her part now wore a red, cropped, sleeveless turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and roman-styled sandals.
"I doubt it. The logos on most of these vehicles are grocery logistics companies…" Michael thoughtfully observed. "Kind of odd that so many are making runs though, especially at the same time."
"Hmph~" Illya dismissively snorted. "It'd be a lot easier on everyone if these small-time companies had gotten space ring licenses. Necessities, you know."
"I… don't think you can call space rings a necessity, even for businesses that'd clearly benefit from them." Michael replied.
"Yeah, Illya. Your golden spoon is showing." Shula jumped in with a dull, but clearly joking rebuke. While still not as bright as she'd been before the news, it was clear to both friends that the trip was already helping her mood. "With how expensive the spell is to maintain and how little it can hold, it wouldn't make sense in the first place."
"Golden spoon?" Illya bit back, side-eying Shula and ignoring her follow-up point. "Which one; the one I use to cut down criminal idiots, or the one I use to hunt the treacherous nobles that make their lives miserable?"
"Yeah, yeah~" Shula snarked. "I'm sure that Dracul blood was bought with pure dedication and hard work. Chill girl."
Illya let out a low chuckle, replying, "Mine was, as you two well know" causing the two to laugh along with her.
After they settled down, the trio walked in silence for a while. It was Shula who eventually broke the silence.
"So, uhh…" She awkwardly started. "You two want to go shopping?"
Illya's mouth curved into a smirk. "Is that even a question?" Brightening Shula's expression.
Michael shook his head at their antics. "Why don't you two go on ahead? I have to get some supplies and I doubt you two want me to rush you, especially if you plan on clothes shopping."
Illya shot him an accusing look. "Seriously? You're the one who asked us to come out here, and now you're ditching us?"
Shula, on the other hand, didn't even bother. "OK! See ya, Mike!"
Without further delay, she took Illya's hand and pulled her deeper into the marketplace.
"Wait! Slow down!" Illya embarrassedly cried out at being dragged like some ragdoll.
Michael stared at their retreating forms incredulously. "Weren't we here to get her out of her shell? How did she get over it so quickly?"
'Was it a lie' was the thought that snuck through his dumbfounded mind. Immediately, he shook his head. 'Gotta stop jumping to conclusions. Just because she looks like a bundle of energy, doesn't mean it's genuine.'
He had to remind himself of that. People react to bad things differently. Illya often did so through violence, he through… well, introspection, and Shula was incredibly self-evident. Hers was so different from his own approach that it was almost impossible for him to comprehend at first. It took a long time and a severe beating from a tear-ridden Illya to even begin to grasp the concept. It was only after seeing the improvement following the shattering of his bones that the lesson sunk in.
With the useless questions banished from his mind, Michael started his own walk. Unlike the other two though, he took a side street, veering towards the very edges of the market district.
--- With Illya and Shula ---
Shula led Illya out of a large clothing boutique, each carrying large paper bags stuffed with new clothes. Each had shirts, shorts, and undergarments of different brands, reflecting the diversity of stores they'd visited in their time here. Realistically, they could've just stored these clothes away using the storage rings they had on hand, but this was an experience and carrying one's gains were part of it.
At least, that was Shula's opinion. Illya only ever carried a bag at a time.
Shula stood at the center of the central street with her hands resting on her hips, face brimmed with contentment. Illya on the other hand settled behind her with her left hand lazily holding her right arm. While Shula's gaze was on the shopping center, hers was on Shula's face. The absence of the earlier hollowness brought a content smile of her own.
"Ah~ Nothing like a good shopping trip to lighten the wallet!" Shula happily exclaimed, prompting her companion to roll her eyes.
"Wait? Were you trying to spend money or buy clothes?" Illya asked with a mock taken-back look.
"Who said it can't be both at the same time?" Shula brightly replied.
"You're supposed to buy clothes that just so happen to be expensive. If we wanted to find ways to burn money, there are MUCH better ways to do it, like actually burning it. I remember one of my stupid cousins burning a swimming pool full of the stuff."
"What!?" She shouted, drawing nosey eyes to them. "Why the hell would he do that!?"
Illya looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Isn't…isn't that what you were just suggesting?"
"Gods, no! If you spend money, other people can still use it. Burning it just makes it useless to everyone." Shula passionately explained.
"And why should we artificially spend money just for them? Surely, if their products are worth buying, we will eventually buy them." Illya asked, still confused.
"To help them out of course, why else?" Shula's response drew an even greater incredulity from Illya than before.
"Charity? Really? I feel there are much better ways of going about helping people than giving them more money than they know how to use, not that they need it in the first place. Chevalia isn't exactly the city of the helpless after all. The people you're looking for have either moved of their own accord or thrown out to feed the wildlife by an irritable noble."
Shula rolled her eyes at her friend's words, used to her cold perspective. "I'm not talking of the paupers Illya. Even the small, productive families could use a break every now and then. Besides, who said I can't shop and help at the same time?"
"Don't bother sweetheart." A haughty voice interjected from their side. "This bitch can't understand the basics of human decency."
"What the…" Illya muttered as both turned to see something she really didn't want to see.
Standing there was a familiar young woman that practically oozed sex appeal standing next to a pale, stick of a man they knew as one of her 'boy toys.' Her shoulder-length chestnut hair was styled into large curls that accented well against her supple, olive skin, and murky, pink eyes. Luckily for the married men roaming the city, she was mostly covered in an off-shoulder, fold-over black robe decorated with pink, purple, and white accents, topping off with a matching, wide brim witches' hat. While the design still elicited fantasies in many, it's a lot tamer than what they've seen her wear.
Illya groaned, knowing well the trouble the woman represented. "Urgh… what are you doing here Milia? Since when did the queen permit a witch to roam her lands?"
"You can't greet friends like that." Shula strongly rebuked her friend, who shot back a silent glare of her own.
"This slut is the farthest thing from a friend." Illya sharply rebuked.
"Illya~" Shula annoyedly whined. "I know you had your differences, but shouldn't it be water under the bridge by now? I mean, she's more useful as an ally, isn't she?"
"Bwahaha!" Milia burst into laughter, interrupting the harsh response Illya was surely readying. "It's good to see you my lovely Shula, and you too, of course, Illya." Her laughter slowly calmed, though it took quite the effort on her part. "As for how I'm here, well…"
She reached into her robe, subtly exposing her lack of much clothing underneath. In fact, all that was there was a black chest wrap and a short skirt. She touched a small runic circle inside, and… pushed her hand inside. To the outside observer, it appeared as if her hand went 'into' the cloth of her robes. After a few seconds of digging, she pulled out a dark red envelope and tossed it straight to Illya who caught it with a questioning expression.
The blond opened it and immediately grew serious.
'Exceedingly expensive cardstock… borders of brushed royal ichor… with… sigh~… contents written in the queen's own handwriting… Damn! I can't just send Milia back! The queen invited her here!' Her thoughts roared with fury at the reality of what this witch represents.
Milia didn't say anything, just standing there appreciating the changes in the blond's eyes. Then, getting an idea, her mouth curved into a sly smile.
"It can't be true that… hmmm…" She put on a troubled face, dripping with mocking sarcasm. "… I mean, this can't be the first time you're hearing about the Grand Hunt, right? I mean, surely~ the queen would've told you."
Illya's eyes irritably shifted from the letter to the offending Witch.
'Why you….' But, despite thinking such, she kept her tongue, not wanting to grant any more advantages in this conversation.
Not that she needed to, of course. Milia was perfectly capable of seeing the boiling wrath in her eyes, and the subtle twitch of her fingers. She loved every bit of it.
From her side, Shula could only shake her head as her blond friend was baited into the witch's scheme. Of course, she was curious about what the letter said, but that could wait. For now, it was probably best to get out of the open and into a more familiar setting.
"Hey Milia!" She exclaimed, grabbing both girl's attention.
"Hmmm…? Yes Shula?" The mirth that was previously in her eyes vanished, replaced by annoyance and curiosity.
'Don't give me that look ya big bimbo! I'm saving your bacon!' Shula irritably thought.
"Illya and I were just about to grab lunch. We were waiting for Mike, but since you're here, we can always just go. I'm sure he'll meet us there."
"Oh~?" The witch raised her hand to stifle her own laughter. "Why not? It's been too long since we've caught up after all, and I would love to see how well Mike's grown." An evil smile bloomed. "…And I wonder if he's gotten better… Last time was a bit… disappointing."
Neither missed the purposeful glance she gave Illya.
Shula sighed as, once again, Illya's rage bubbled to the surface. This time though, a purple miasma radiated from her fists. Despite her face showing little changes, there were no illusions of what the blond wanted to do to this woman.
Deciding to intervene before it got bloody, Shula wrapped her left arm around her friend's shoulders and grabbed Illya's left arm with her right.
"Come on, Illya… let's go eat." Shula firmly suggested. Her lowered tone and the extra emphasis in her voice grabbed the blond's attention, causing the miasma to subside.
"Fine… We'll go eat, but you…" Illya pointed at the witch. "…Keep my friend's name out of your filthy mouth."
"Hehe~ Worry not lass, I've already had my fill. It wasn't anything special." Shula palmed her face at Milia's continued prodding, and the crimson light now radiating from her friend's pupils.
"Ok! Ok! Let's just go!" Shula frustratedly exclaimed, forcefully 'guiding' Illya in the restaurant's direction.
'If I don't move us forward, Milia'll keep playing Illya like a fiddle until she snaps! Why would she even do that? She knows she can't beat her in a straight fight?' Her eyes subtly shifted to the witch's lanky bodyguard. 'Is he what gives her that confidence?'
Shula, for once, desperately wanted this temporary quiet she'd forcefully brokered to last as long as possible, at least until they gotten to the restaurant.
'Maybe I should've just taken them out of the city and let them fight… this is a pain in the ass…' She idly lamented.
---With Michael---
While the others were shopping, Michael walked down the dilapidated back streets of Chevalia's red-light district.
Contrary to the earlier location which had a mixture of humans and vampires, this place was almost devoid of the latter. It was as if their population had collectively decided that this place was too dirty for their prestigious blood.
That wasn't true of course. Living with a member of vampiric nobility gave him a certain… perspective into the situation. The truth was that this district only served both smaller merchants and the poor. Those of wealth and status had other, grander districts to relieve their urges.
Red neon lights lit the doorways in this narrow strip of the city, inviting men and women to enjoy vices of all types. There were group smoke shops, drug rooms, strip clubs, and much more. He was glad he was here during the day though. If he were here at night, like all able-bodied men, he'd be receiving propositions for all sorts of services, up to and including escorts.
"In and out Michael. Don't get caught up." He muttered to himself, wanting to get his business over with. "I'm really glad Milia doesn't work here. Otherwise…" He shivered at the very idea.
He always remembered 'that night' when coming here, how he'd been played like a fiddle and toyed with by someone whose capacity for seduction lay in the realm of the divine. He'd underestimated her, believing himself above her brand of depravity. He was a man of morals, of proper values; that's what he told himself at least. It only took a night for the witch to bend him to her will and cause the first true fracture in his and Illya's friendship, not that he understood why. It took her a year to forgive him, and they weren't even in the type of relationship to give her that concern; she shouldn't have cared.
"I hope I never see her again… a night of bliss isn't worth the headache." He grumbled under his breath.
Finally, he arrived at his destination, a large sports bar in the center of the district's main plaza. Stepping inside, he noticed it was mostly empty, filled with only a modicum of customers. With nothing to watch combined with most of the patrons being night owls, this was expected.
He sat down at the bar and waved down the gruff, bear of a bar tender.
"Hey Dan! How're the folks!?" He exclaimed.
The man looked up from the glass he was polishing. "Fine as a fiddle. Mary's been itching to go on that trip next month. She's been bugging me about it every night."
"Probably doesn't want you to forget." Michael snarked.
The bartender snorted dismissively. "And how would that happen? You know how much money I spent on this trip?"
Michael shrugged. "Aren't you always the one here on your anniversary night? Last year, I even remember Sally having to remind you. It was pretty funny."
Dan shot him a glare. "Hey, it's not my fault it's deep in Football season. You know damn well how much my customers love watching that, not to mention the staff on that shift."
"That never made sense to me. Why not watch something where the athletes actually match our standards? Why earthen football?" Michael pondered.
"That's what happens when you live in an ivory tower. You forget your roots. Aren't a lot of humans that can do all the fancy magic that you wave around casually. Lucky bastard, you."
"Oh…" Michael was stumped. "I completely forgot about that… and you can't do it either… sorry about that."
"Yeah…, best quit while you're ahead." The bartender rolled his eyes at Michael's simultaneous forgetfulness and insensitivity. Truly, it didn't bother him. He would hardly use it anyways. It was all in good fun, even if the boy in front of him was too serious for his own good. "Anyways, what do you want?"
"I'll take the regular, a white river iced tea with your special ice."
Dan nonchalantly replied. "We're out. Choose something else."
"Well, I guess I'll go with your recommendation then. Give me something I can take on the road."
"…Fair enough. I know just the thing." He got to work pulling a couple bottles from his shelves. "You heard of the grand hunt?"
Michael's face scrunched up. "Excuse me? Since when?"
Dan continued making the drink, talking as he worked. "Word is: the queen's been moving to start a grand hunt. While there haven't been any official announcements, everything points to one happening real soon. The local merchants' guilds have been moving supplies like crazy, certain banishments have conditionally lifted, and the adventurer's guild has been posting a lot of high-paying missions into the Dripweb Forest…"
He looked up at Michael. "… mostly scouting missions. I don't know what they're looking for, but it's got to be of high value, probably a royal antique or something. There wouldn't be a reason to not announce it otherwise; it's not like they're hunting the Hati tribes again."
Michael interjected, thinking out loud. "… there're no major forces that would need that much logistics in that forest. It's primarily dominated by giant spiders, and it's not like they can be tipped off by rogue spies. But why wouldn't she tell us…?"
For a second, he wondered if Illya'd been keeping this a secret, if she had been told and decided to withhold the information. That thought passed quickly though. He managed her information networks. Keeping secrets from him was possibly the worst thing she could do.
If she didn't trust him, she'd just get someone else to fill the role. It wasn't like he'd refuse. It'd give him more time to himself anyways. No, she very likely didn't know herself. But, why would the queen withhold that information, especially…
…when that forest was smack dab in the middle of Countess Drusilla's territory. It very close to the mansion they just raided in fact… it was almost as if…
'wait…' The earlier thought was lost as another foreboding question bubbled to the top of his faculties.
His eyes refocused and snapped back to the bartender. "Dan, what do you mean by 'banishments were conditionally lifted'"?
Dan looked up, confused on why Michael of all people wouldn't' know, especially something like this. "Apparently, the Queen is offering three witches from that bunch of crazies, Walpurgisnacht, the chance to get permanent residence in her country. Two of 'em have been spotted recently if I recall, so they're already in, if only for now. If they succeed though, it'll be permanent."
Michael froze, struck stupid by the news. "Excuse me!? What did you say!?"
Dan walked over and placed a sealed tumbler in front of him. "A mystery box for the road. I'm not repeating myself." He walked over to another customer just sitting down. "And good luck with the witches."
Michael could only stare hollowly at the mug in front of him, silently sifting through the shitstorm that was coming.
Witches were here, three of them. They were chaos incarnate; individuals bound only by their own distorted view of reality. There was no scenario when multiple witches were present, and order wasn't eviscerated like wet paper in a blender.
That's why they were banished from Palahaem in the first place.