Eimme and Cladia found themselves approximately 100 meters outside the walls of Rızık Kingdom's capital. Emu had teleported them here. The main gate of the capital was in sight.
"Follow me, Cladia. I'm sure that arrogant dwarf Glaz can craft something useful for you," Eimme said.
Cladia nodded. Her bright red eyes gleamed with excitement. Her black hair swayed as she nodded. She was wearing one of Emu's dresses. Its color matched her eyes, giving her an almost angelic appearance. At least, that was what Eimme thought. She couldn't take her eyes off her. Eimme hadn't brought up this subject yet, but she knew she'd have to talk to Cladia about her crimson eyes someday. However, that was a problem for another time. For now, the priority was acquiring an item from Glaznac to communicate properly with Cladia.
They reached the main gate of the wall. A heavily armored soldier with a spear stood there, checking and questioning those who wished to enter. It was Eimme's turn.
"What is your purpose for entering?" the soldier asked.
"..."
Receiving no response, the soldier raised his voice slightly and asked again. One of the necklaces around Eimme's neck glowed faintly—a shimmer so subtle it could easily go unnoticed. One of the small crystals embedded in it disintegrated into dust.
"Hey! What did you—" The soldier froze mid-sentence. Then a smile spread across his face.
"Oh! It's you, Lady Eimme. Please forgive my rudeness. You may enter."
"Good." Eimme turned to Cladia. "She's with me," she added.
The soldier nodded and signaled to the other two guards at the gate, who then stepped aside.
"Please, go ahead."
Eimme and Cladia entered. The city was bustling with life. Numerous stalls lined the streets, and children were running around. Almost everyone wore a cheerful expression. Eimme led the way, and Cladia followed closely behind.
After some time, Eimme began to feel uneasy. A sense of foreboding crept over her. When she turned to check on Cladia, she realized she wasn't there. Panic set in. Fear gripped her. She was trembling. She quickly focused and tried to listen to the surrounding noises. She was certain she could find her.
At that moment, she felt a weight around her neck. It was the arms of the woman in the red dress, hugging her from behind. Cladia was holding skewers of meat, and the aroma was delightful. Eimme sighed.
"You scared me," she said.
Cladia let go of her and stepped back slightly, her face falling. She offered one of the skewers to Eimme.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way, Cladia," Eimme said in a panic. She placed a hand on Cladia's head and gently stroked her hair. "Thank you." She took the skewer from her hand and ate one of the meat pieces in a single bite.
Cladia's face lit up again, her cheeks slightly flushed. They continued on their way and eventually arrived at Glaznac's shop. Before they could enter, a loud voice called out nearby.
"Don't drop a single one of them!"
It was a large, burly man shouting at the slaves behind him. The slaves were carrying crates filled with fruit. The lead slave tripped and fell, dropping the crates. Some of the fruit was dirtied, and others were crushed. The man's displeasure was evident.
"You useless fool!" he shouted and began kicking the fallen male slave.
Eimme watched the scene with a cold, detached expression. She didn't care what happened to the slave or the man's relationship with him. To her, they were insignificant. Just as she was about to turn back toward the shop, she noticed Cladia stepping in front of the fallen slave. She had spread her arms, shielding the slave from the man's kicks.
"What do you think you're doing, woman?!" the man roared. "Move! My dealings with my slave are none of your business! Stay out of it, you insolent wretch!"
The man drew his leg back, ready to kick the black-haired woman, but Eimme intervened, stopping him. She was furious. She didn't care about the slave, but the mere thought of Cladia getting hurt drove her mad. Yet, she managed to control herself.
"Cladia, go into the shop. I'll join you shortly. Don't worry," Eimme said.
Cladia gave her a concerned look. A small tear had formed under her right eye. Having spent most of her life as a slave, being in such a situation terrified her. At the same time, she felt a deep concern for the fallen slave and wanted to protect him. Her eyes betrayed her emotions.
Eimme gently wiped away Cladia's tear. In a soft voice, audible only to Cladia, she whispered, "I won't let anything happen to him. You don't need to worry. Go inside. I've spoken to Glaz before. He'll recognize you as soon as you enter."
Reluctantly, Cladia stood and walked away. The man looked bewildered, unable to comprehend what was happening.
"Let's settle this as civilized people, sir. I apologize for my friend interfering in your business. Please, follow me," Eimme said.
A wicked grin spread across the man's face. "Lead the way. You, get up and follow me. The rest of you, you know where to go. Continue on your way." The other slaves silently obeyed, while the male slave slowly got up.
"I'm sorry, master," the slave muttered.
"Hmph."
Eimme made no comment. She began walking toward an alley opposite Glaznac's shop. The man and his slave followed. They eventually reached a secluded alleyway. There was no one else around.
"Are we there yet?" the man asked.
Eimme stopped and turned to face him. She moved closer, her posture subtly highlighting her neckline. The man's expression turned lecherous. At that moment, he felt a sharp pain in his arm. It was a thin but piercing pain. He fell to his knees and realized, to his horror, that his right arm was gone. Blood pooled on the ground, staining the cobblestones.
"W-what is happening?! Who did this?" he stammered. He hadn't seen anything. One moment his arm was there, and the next it was gone. Tears streamed down his face.
"Disgusting," Eimme said, her expression one of genuine revulsion. Her left hand was stained with blood. With a swift motion, she swung her bloody hand again. This time, the man's left arm disappeared.
Eimme moved so quickly that the man couldn't comprehend what was happening. He screamed in agony.
"Spare me! Please spare me! I can give you anything you want! Money? Is it money you're after? Or perhaps slaves? The finest slaves—"
Before he could finish his sentence, his body was sliced vertically in half. The two halves of his body fell in opposite directions, spilling his organs onto the ground. The man's eyes caught fire and burned out. Blood covered the area, but a barrier shielded Eimme from being stained.
The male slave, now drenched in his master's blood, watched the scene with an unreadable expression. The death of his master and his own blood-soaked state didn't seem to affect him. But soon, a sadistic grin spread across his face. It was a grotesque smile. He took unstable steps toward the two halves of the corpse and began kicking it. His kicks were weak and unsteady.
Eimme flicked her hand to clean off the blood. The droplets splattered against the wall. Without looking back, she left the alley and headed toward Cladia.
***
The blood-soaked male slave wandered through the backstreets of the large city. The blood on him had dried, fusing with his skin and the sackcloth he wore as clothing. He knew he had no escape. It was evident in his appearance—his tattered clothes, his mannerisms, the chains on his legs, and his overall condition all marked him as a slave. Even the most oblivious person could identify him as such at a glance.
A long time had passed since his master's death. Night had fallen, and the air grew colder. The streets were usually empty at this hour, save for the occasional drunkard. Thus, he saw no issue in leaving the alleyways and stepping onto the main road. However, he was met with an unexpected encounter: his master's employer. He recognized the man from before. The employer noticed the slave and approached him.
The slave recounted the events that had transpired.
"Useless filth!" The man slapped the slave across the face. The slave fell to the ground. With a swift motion, the man stomped on the slave's face. Drawing the sword from his belt, he executed a clean strike that severed the slave's head from his neck. The slave was dead. The man let out an angry sigh, sheathed his sword, and pulled a handkerchief from his coat. He wiped the blood off his face before turning around and walking away. What should I do now? Should I send Alize to track down that gray-haired woman who killed that idiot? Yes, that seems to be the most logical course of action. I never liked that disgusting man, but he was important to the organization. His death will embolden other groups and make us look weak. Hiding his death is impossible. We need to take revenge and make a public example of it, so they won't overstep their bounds.
"Alize."
In an instant, a woman appeared behind him. "Leader."
"Garan is dead. The one who killed him is a gray-haired woman dressed in expensive clothing. She was seen traveling with a red-eyed woman. Find them and bring them to me."
"As you command."
"Also, take care of the bodies."
As suddenly as she had appeared, the woman disappeared into thin air.
"Ahk! Such a bother! I just want a peaceful life!"
The man continued to grumble as he walked away without looking back. His crimson hair billowed in the wind. He wore a formal uniform. He wasn't just any soldier. He was Charles Marlett, commander of the feared Atesh Unit, one of the most formidable forces in the Rızık Kingdom.