At least I made it through the night without Jorven and his mutts sniffin’ me out. Knew they wouldn’t act too brazenly here in the good part of the city.
A quiet grunt rumbled in his throat as he pushed himself upright, peeling away the ragged scrap of cloth that had served as his blanket. It was threadbare, riddled with holes, but it had done its job well enough.
He stretched to ease the stiffness creeping through his limbs, wincing as his joints crackled in protest. Should try to find the adventurer’s guild soon.
Yet, as he shifted, his palm pressed against something unexpectedly warm and soft. Fur?
Oswald looked down, half-expecting to find a rat scurrying away. Instead, a sleek black cat lay curled beside him, tail wrapped snugly around its body. Its ears twitched, and as if sensing his scrutiny, its golden eyes flickered open, sharp and unblinking.
He stared at the cat for a few seconds. Then, a slow smile tugged at his lips. Didn’t expect company.
Careful not to startle the creature, he eased himself away, but even the slightest movement was enough to rouse it. The cat stretched, arching its back with a satisfied shudder before settling into an upright position.
Oswald huffed a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t have any food, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for."
The cat blinked at him. Then, it rose to its feet and pressed against his leg, weaving between his ankles. A low, contented purr rumbled from its chest, rich with warmth, despite the cold morning air.
Oswald exhaled through his nose, crouching down to run his fingers over its sleek fur. The warmth of it was a stark contrast to the biting chill that clung to his skin, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the simple sensation. This somebody’s pet? Fur’s way too nice for a street cat.
“Alright, alright. You’re cute, but I gotta go,” he muttered, giving the feline a final pat before pushing himself upright.
The cat let out a slow blink, utterly unconcerned with his departure. Oswald shook his head, stepping out of the alleyway and into the open street.
The city was bathed in the muted glow of dawn. The usual chaos of merchants, beggars, and travelers had yet to take hold, leaving the roads mostly quiet.
He took a deep breath, already mapping his next steps in his mind. Find the adventurer’s guild, see if they’re hiring, maybe even—
A hint of movement in the corner of his eye pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder.
The cat padded after him, gliding effortlessly across the uneven cobblestones. It was as if it had already made up its mind to follow him to the ends of the earth.
Oswald narrowed his eyes. Why is this cat followin’ me?
Exhaling sharply, he picked up his pace, hoping it would get bored and lose interest. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Apparently, the cat had nowhere else better to be, because it trotted faster. You've gotta be kiddin' me.
Stopping in his tracks, Oswald turned on his heel and planted his feet firmly on the ground. “Shoo,” he said, waving a hand as if that alone would send the creature scurrying off. “Go find someone with actual food.”
Instead of running, the cat leapt forward with the kind of grace only felines possessed, claws catching briefly against the fabric of his tunic before it climbed up his body. Oswald barely had time to react before it perched itself squarely on his shoulder, tail curling lazily around the back of his neck like it belonged there.
"Are you serious?" Oswald asked, looking at the cat.
The cat just blinked at him a few times. But it didn't seem like it was going to move anytime soon.
Oswald let out a breathless chuckle. “Fine. Do what you want."
The cat meowed in response. Oswald didn’t speak cat, but he was pretty sure it was feeling really smug.
With a resigned sigh, he carefully lifted the cat off his shoulder. Holding it at arm’s length, he squinted. “Alright, let’s see… you a boy or a girl?”
The cat let out an indignant meow, wriggling midair as if offended by the intrusion. Oswald huffed a quiet chuckle, setting the feline back onto his shoulder once satisfied. “A girl, huh? Guess that makes namin’ you easier. How ‘bout… Vivi?”
A soft, approving meow left the cat's throat. Oswald huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Vivi it is, then.”
And so, with a cat draped over his shoulder like it had always been there, he set out to find the adventurer’s guild. Oswald started by asking around, but most people barely spared him a glance, while others wrinkled their noses at his disheveled state and took a step back before he could even ask a question to begin with. Guess bein’ half-starved and covered in alley dust don’t exactly invite friendly conversation.
Eventually, after more dismissive looks than he cared to count, an old man took pity on him. “The adventurer’s guild? Head down that road till you see the biggest building around. You can’t miss it.”
Oswald dipped his head in thanks. “Appreciate it, thanks, gramps.”
As he set off in the given direction, Vivi let out a small, pleased purr, shifting slightly on his shoulder to get more comfortable. Guess I’ve got company now.
***
It took a lot of walking, but Oswald eventually managed to navigate the city streets to find the adventurer's guild. Because quite frankly, it was a difficult place to miss.
The building rose like a fortress, its towering walls constructed from dark, weathered stone while massive iron sconces flanked the main entrance. Above the entrance, an ornate emblem of a sword crossed with a shield had been carved into the stonework.
But more impressive than the adventurer's guild itself, was the sheer mass of people that were trying to get inside of it. This… this insane.
Everywhere he looked, there was a restless tide of bodies. Lines snaked from the entrance of the adventurer’s guild, weaving through the open square and spilling into the surrounding streets.
Oswald’s eye swept over the teeming crowd which filled the entire plaza and thensome. Grizzled mercenaries with weathered armor and notched swords slung across their backs barked at each other in hoarse voices. Younger adventurers, still green behind the ears, fidgeted as they adjusted straps and pouches, their excitement barely masking the nervous tremor in their hands. Even the merchants had squeezed themselves into the fray, hawking their wares.
“Get your Selene Whiteheart pendants here!” one bellowed, holding up a tiny sword-shaped charm.
She’s got her own trinkets now, damn? Oswald knew who Selene Whiteheart was, of course, who hadn’t?
He’d seen her face on posters, heard about her in passing, but that wasn’t the same as seeing her up close. And if she was really inside, then he really wanted to be there. Not every day you get to lay eyes on a living legend.
Now, if only he could figure out where the line started. Has to be somewhere nearby.
He pushed forward, skirting around knots of adventurers barking orders at one another, sidestepping merchants thrusting cheap baubles at anyone who so much as looked in their direction. But no matter where he turned, there was just more people, more noise, more confusion.
Oswald huffed, adjusting Vivi’s position on his shoulder as she flicked her tail against his cheek. “Yeah, yeah, I know, this is a mess.”
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of weaving through the tangled mess of people, he the end of the line. Or rather, the distant end of the line, which snaked so far back it nearly reached the neighboring district.
Oswald exhaled sharply. This is gonna take forever.
Still, he stepped into place, arms crossed as he settled in for what was sure to be a long wait. At least Vivi made for decent company. He scratched under her chin, grinning as she purred in contentment. “Guess we’re both stuck here, huh?”
Vivi chirped, nuzzling against his collar. Oswald chuckled. At least one of us is having fun.
The hours dragged by, the morning sun creeping toward its peak, then dipping lower as afternoon stretched onward. The line inched forward at an agonizing pace, no matter how patient he was, he was still standing in the same damn place for far too long.
Oswald's stomach growled. He pressed a hand to his gut, grimacing. He should’ve grabbed food first, but leaving now meant giving up his spot. Not happening.
The line shuffled forward again, just a little. He sighed, shifting his weight. “You better be worth all this, Whiteheart,” he muttered under his breath. Vivi flicked her ears, unimpressed.
Just as Oswald reached the front, standing mere feet from the towering guild doors, everything unraveled in an instant. A line of heavily armored guards stepped forward, shields locking together like an impenetrable wall.
The tallest of them, his armor adorned with an insignia Oswald didn’t recognize, raised a gauntleted hand. "Selene Whiteheart is no longer taking visitors. She will be leaving shortly!"
The reaction was immediate. A ripple of disbelief rolled through the masses, followed swiftly by outrage.
“What do you mean she’s leaving? I waited for hours!”
“This is bullshit! Let us in!”
“Oi, I paid for an express pass!”
The protests swelled as the crowd pressed forward with growing aggression. However, the guards didn’t flinch. Their shields edged higher as some of them started to push against the crowd.
The crowd teetered on the edge, their frustration crackling in the air like a storm about to break. Voices sharpened, hands clenched, bodies pressed too close. It wouldn’t take much for the whole thing to explode. This is about to turn ugly. Not worth stickin’ around.
Oswald took a slow step back. Then another. He slipped through the restless bodies, letting the rising tension swallow his absence. The deeper he wove, the more distant the heat of the crowd felt, like stepping out of a fire’s reach before the embers flared into something dangerous.
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A soft trill vibrated against his ear. Vivi, perched snug on his shoulder, flicked her tail across his cheek, as if it was her way of saying, Told you so.
Oswald smirked, rubbing a thumb over her ear as he walked. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Total waste of time.”
His stomach let out another low, grumbling protest as he weaved through the thinning crowd. He exhaled through his nose, rubbing at his ribs like that would somehow quiet the hollow ache growing there. Great, hours wasted for nothin’, and now I’m starvin’.
Vivi let out a soft chirp from her perch, tail flicking lazily across his shoulder. He turned his head slightly, glancing at her. "What about you? Hungry too?"
The feline lifted her head, then let out a high, expectant meow. Oswald huffed a quiet chuckle. "Figured."
Now came the harder part, actually finding a place to eat that wouldn’t rob him blind. He knew better than to try his luck in the city center. No, he needed to find somewhere cheaper, preferably further from all the polished stone and fancy shops that catered to nobles and high-rolling adventurers.
Adjusting his grip on Vivi as she shifted, he set off down the winding streets, straying from the bustling main avenues and into the quieter, grittier parts of the city. The buildings here looked older, and after some more walking, he finally spotted a modest-looking market tucked between two sloping alleyways.
It wasn’t nearly as grand as the plazas near the guild, but it looked cheap, or at least cheaper than anything he’d come across so far. He scanned the stalls, his eye landing on one where thick, golden-brown pieces of fried bread sat piled on a wooden tray.
Oswald wasted no time approaching the vendor, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and flour-dusted hands. "How much for one?"
"Five copper." The woman said dryly.
"...What?"
"Five copper."
"You sure that’s right?”
“I can’t afford to sell it for less, lad. Prices are what they are.”
Oswald chewed the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight. Five copper wasn’t everything he had, but it was still a chunk of his dwindling funds. For a piece of bread? But damn, I really am hungry.
With a reluctant sigh, he untied one of the small pouches on his belt, fishing out five copper coins. The weight of them in his palm felt heavier than it should have. He hesitated a moment longer, then placed them in the woman’s outstretched hand.
"Much appreciated," she said warmly, passing him a piece of bread wrapped in a thin scrap of cloth.
Oswald barely muttered a thanks before biting into it. The crisp outer layer gave way to soft, warm dough, the oil still faintly clinging to his fingertips. It was simple, but good, and after hours of standing in that damned line, he needed it.
Then, just as he was starting to enjoy his first proper meal in what felt like forever, Vivi licked his cheek. Oswald blinked, mid-bite, turning his head just enough to meet her stare.
He exhaled a quiet laugh, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Yeah, yeah. I know,” he muttered, breaking off a small piece of the bread. “Can’t forget about you, huh?”
Vivi let out a pleased trill as he lowered the piece toward her, and immediately, she daintily took it between her teeth. Oswald smirked, shaking his head.
“Did you like it?” he murmured, taking another bite for himself.
Vivi nodded, looking at Oswald's hand. More specifically, on the remaining piece of fried bread he hadn’t finished yet. She flicked her tail, then nudged her nose against his cheek.
Oswald snorted. “Yeah, nice try. Pretty sure cats need meat, not greasy bread,” he said, popping the last bit into his mouth before she could swipe it. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Still chewing, he wandered further into the market, scanning the stalls with a sharper eye this time. Now that food was on his mind, the smell of sizzling fat and roasting meat became impossible to ignore. Eventually, his gaze landed on a vendor selling meat skewers, glistening with juices as they rested over smoldering coals.
He approached the stall, eyeing the skewers. “How much for one?”
The vendor, a burly man with thick arms and an apron stained with grease, barely spared him a glance. “Six copper.”
“Six? For one skewer?”
“Meat ain’t cheap, boy. Take it or leave it.”
Oswald sucked his teeth, already feeling the weight of his thinning coin pouch. First the overpriced bread, now this. But Vivi needed food, and she wasn’t about to hunt in the middle of a crowded city. With a resigned sigh, he dug into his pouch again, pulling out the six copper coins and dropping them onto the vendor’s outstretched palm.
The man counted the coins, grunted, then handed over a freshly grilled skewer without another word.
Oswald exhaled sharply as he walked away. Rude bastard. At least the food looks good.
Just as he was about to take his first bite, a sudden tug at his hand made him jolt. Vivi had quickly latched onto one of the meat chunks, sinking her fangs into the tender flesh before ripping it free.
Oswald blinked, then barked out a laugh. “You little thief.”
Vivi didn’t even acknowledge the accusation, far too busy savoring her prize. Oswald just shook his head, biting into the remaining skewer as he strolled away from the market, letting the warmth of the food settle in his stomach.
But as he walked, his spending came to mind. Oswald had spent eleven copper, just like that. All for a bit of food. He still had some left, but if this was how much things cost, he’d burn through his funds fast. He needed work, and soon. Can’t afford to just—
The thought died as a shiver crawled up his spine. Oswald slowed his steps, then, without making it obvious, glanced back over his shoulder.
Two men followed him from a distance. They weren’t part of the Black Hounds, at least, not from what he could tell. No insignias, no familiar faces. But trouble was still trouble, and they looked like the type to cause it.
Oswald exhaled through his nose and picked up his pace, weaving through the streets, taking a less direct route than before. He stole another glance. Those bastards are still following me.
His fingers twitched at his side. Alright. Let’s see how much you can keep up.
Immediately, he cut through a busier street, slipping between carts and groups of passing pedestrians, making it harder to track him. Then he turned left, ducking into an alley before emerging on another road. Still, no matter where he turned, there were more of them. Not just the first two, others now, lurking at various corners.
Oswald clenched his jaw, heart kicking up a notch. Tch. Should’ve known.
He made his move before they could tighten the net, slipping into a narrower alleyway and quickening his pace. His boots clapped against the stone as he ran, the muffled din of the market growing distant. Only when he was a fair distance in did he stop, panting lightly as he placed Vivi down from his shoulder.
“Alright, that was annoying,” he muttered, resting a hand against the wall to steady himself. He had planned to catch his breath, maybe even figure out his next move, but before he could—
A low, gruff chuckle echoed from behind him. Oswald stiffened.
Slowly, he turned, eyes narrowing as five men stepped into the alley, blocking the only exit. They were large, with broad shoulders and thick arms straining against well-worn tunics and patched leathers. Some held clubs, others short blades.
One of them, the tallest, grinned through a crooked row of teeth. “Was startin’ to think you’d never stop runnin’.”
Oswald kept his stance loose, hands open at his sides. "Look, I ain't lookin' for trouble."
The tallest thug let out a rough chuckle, shaking his head. "Neither are we." The way the others snickered behind him made it clear that wasn’t the whole truth.
Oswald’s eye flicked between them, assessing. Five, plus two more lingering near the alley’s entrance now. Shit. That made seven. Even worse odds than he’d hoped.
One of the men, stockier than the rest with a thick scar running down his jaw, stepped forward. "You look like a kid who could use a bit of work. Lucky for you, we got a proposition."
"That so? And what exactly do you lot want?"
"Nothin' complicated. Just a few errands, here and there. You help us out, we let you walk."
"And the pay?"
That earned a round of laughter from the group, rough and mean. The tallest thug wiped at his nose, still grinning. "The pay is we don’t beat your face into the ground."
Oswald sighed, dragging a hand down his face. Great.
Options flickered through his mind. Talking wasn’t going to work, not with men like these. Fighting his way out was possible, but there were too many of them, and he wasn’t arrogant enough to think he could take on seven armed men by himself. Not unless I take off the eyepatch.
Oswald crouched low, carefully lifting Vivi from his shoulder and setting her down. She clung to his sleeve for a second, her golden eyes flicking up at him, uncertain. He nudged her back with the side of his boot, not hard, just enough to send a message. Stay outta this.
She let out a soft trill, hesitation curling in the sound, but she obeyed, slinking backward just far enough to keep clear. Good, least she'll be safe.
Across from him, the tallest thug cocked a brow, arms folding over his chest like this was all some big joke. "What, you plannin’ to do somethin’ stupid?"
Oswald met his gaze, a slow grin creeping across his face. “Yep.”
Before any of them could react, he reached up and tugged his eyepatch free. Screw it.
The moment his uncovered eye locked onto the closest thug, the man stiffened. A sharp inhale left his lips before his knees buckled, his entire body collapsing like his strength had been ripped straight from his bones. He gasped, clawing at his throat as life drained from him in seconds.
"Shit! What is that!?"
"Get him!"
The remaining thugs surged forward, weapons flashing as they lunged. Oswald moved in response, drawing his shortsword.
The first thug came at him with a wild swing. He sidestepped, driving his blade deep into the man’s side before wrenching it free. Blood sprayed against the damp cobblestones, the man crumpling with a strangled gurgle.
Another came from behind. Oswald turned sharply, catching the downward strike of a club on the flat of his blade. His arms shook from the impact, but he shifted his weight, twisting the thug’s wrist until the weapon slipped from his grasp. With a quick motion, he plunged his sword into the man’s chest. The thug gasped before Oswald shoved him off the blade with a brutal kick.
The scent of blood thickened in the air, almost intoxicating. Oswald barely registered the next man rushing him, as his body moved before thought. He ducked under a wide swing, rolling forward before springing up behind his attacker.
His blade traced a clean path across the thug’s throat. A spray of crimson followed, splattering against the walls.
Oswald exhaled sharply, but his grip tightened on his sword. His pulse pounded in his ears, the world narrowing to nothing but the glint of steel and the cries of dying men.
Bodies dropped one by one. It was a massacre.
“Fuck, he’s not normal!”
“I-I ain’t dyin’ for this—”
They turned, boots scuffing against the alley floor as they scrambled to flee. Cowards.
Oswald took a step forward, his breathing heavy, gaze flicking between them like a predator watching wounded prey. He clenched his jaw as he breathed heavily. The scent of blood clung to his skin, as if it had seeped into his very being. His grip on his sword trembled, fingers locked so tightly around the hilt that his knuckles burned.
A voracious hunger coiled deep inside him, restless and unsatisfied, gnawing at the edges of his mind. Oswald gritted his teeth, shaking his head as if he could physically dislodge the thought. His chest heaved, his breath sharp and shallow.
No, he had to fight it. Had to stay in control. But the more he tried to pull away, the more the voice dug in its claws, wrapping tighter around his thoughts, urging him deeper into hunger.
Then, Oswald sensed movement. His body reacted before thought could catch up, immediately turning around and swinging his shortsword in a vicious arc.
Steel met steel. A sharp, ringing clash split the silence, the force reverberating up his arm.
His blade had been caught mid-swing, parried easily. Oswald's eyes widened in shock.
Before him stood a woman, poised and motionless. No strain marred her grip, no effort showed in her stance. It was as if she had deflected his attack out of idle amusement.
Long, silvery-white hair cascaded behind her, shifting like liquid moonlight. But her deep violet eyes held him in place, stripping him bare with a gaze so unwavering, that it sent waves of unease down his spine.
A breath hitched in his throat. His arms tensed, but something was wrong.
No matter how hard Oswald tried, he couldn't move. He strained, tried to wrench free from whatever force bound him, but his muscles remained frozen in place. Even the voice that had haunted him so far, had gone completely silent.
What's goin' on? His chest tightened, something thick and suffocating pressing down on him. This wasn’t fear. This was something deeper, something far worse.
The woman's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "I detected an Animus in the area. But I did not expect to find a boy wielding it."
Oswald tried to speak, but no sound came. Even his breath felt sluggish, as though the air around him had thickened into something unyielding.
The woman exhaled softly, closing her eyes. "Rest, for now."
Rest? Oswald had no idea how she could even say something like that.
But when the woman opened her eyes. He didn't know what to say.
A black sigil flared to life in both irises, a five-pointed star shifting, pulsing, breathing as if it were something alive. Immediately after, a wave of pressure crashed over Oswald.
His vision blurred, the world twisting at the edges. Consciousness slipped from his grasp like sand through his fingers. One of the last things he registered before the darkness took him was the weight of that gaze: calm, inescapable, and utterly beyond him. That, and the strange words which manifested in his mind.
[Animus System Initiated]
[Displaying Status]
Souls: 0
Resonance: 1
Invocations: ???
Skills:
- True Sight (Tier 1: Grants the ability to see through darkness and illusion magic)
- Gaze of Doom (Tier 1: When activated, drains the life force of any target that makes direct eye contact)
- Exalted Trance (Tier 1: Temporarily increases bloodlust after each kill. Stacks with consecutive kills.)