“Banner Red.”

  Hilda squeaked. “O–our banner code…!”

  Lucon had to force himself to meet Skhav’s gaze. That fierce face, even at rest, made his hands clammy, its tattoos only adding to the unease.

  He knew what those markings meant.

  Having grown up with tutors the best money could buy, he had been taught about the world—and about those who lived on its fringes.

  Skhav was one of the “Abandoned”—people from the Abandoned Verge, said to have been forsaken by the gods for past sins. Their tattoos were scripts of ancient doctrine, attempts to regain divine favor—teachings of the original gods, from before half of them fell in a divine war against the Demonic God.

  Lucon couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the brand on Skhav’s neck, nearly hidden beneath the man’s collar.

  An outcast among outcasts.

  Despite himself, Lucon felt afraid.

  What was Ambrosia Lucon thinking, accepting one of the Abandoned as a subordinate? Not only were they rumored to be savage, they were considered bad luck.

  Lucon took a deep breath.

  Focus, he thought. Save the barony. Stop the Mana Beasts from coming.

  He pierced through the fog of Ambrosia Lucon’s memories, unraveling what was planned.

  The banner code, he realized, had been taught to Skhav and Kaeson.

  And “Banner Red” wasn’t just an emergency. It was the highest emergency.

  Lucon’s eyes drifted to the mangled harpy corpses, then to the trees around them. He imagined more. Dozens. Hundreds. Mana Beasts drawn like moths to a flame.

  “…Has it become so bad?” Lucon murmured.

  Skhav instinctively pulled at his fur collar as Lucon glanced at his brand again.

  “That’s right,” the barbarian said. “What you planned—to grow the Mana Crystals—Helto and the others were already well into growing them already. The Mana Beasts are already coming.”

  Niles! You fat bastard! You were planning to destroy the barony while profiting from it!

  Lucon didn’t think Niles had it in him. The merchant had known his father for years, sharing struggles then celebrating when they overcame those trials together. This betrayal spat on the very legacy that had made both men rich and famous.

  Skhav looked in a certain direction—the direction Lucon knew lay the cavern where he had met Herephen the Celestari. The Mana Crystals that grew there was most likely product of Nile’s schemes.

  Skhav then shook his head. “You Heartlanders, you do not know how to cultivate Mana Crystals. Not only are they lower grade than they should be, but they were also grown wrong. They should stay in place to gather power. Spreading dilutes the crystals.”

  Lucon lips became a thin line. That was why Ambrosia Lucon took Skhav in. Of course one of the Abandoned knew how to handle Mana Crystals. Their land in the Verge was filled with them.

  Lucon’s chest tightened.

  There was a way to stop this all.

  They needed the Edelyn guard.

  Which meant—

  His father would find out.

  Everything.

  The crystals. The secret trade. The growing operation. The lies.

  Lucon felt dizzy.

  If Auric learned what he’d done, he might not just be punished.

  He could be disowned.

  Stripped of his name.

  But if he didn’t act…

  The Mana Beasts would pour in from every direction. Villages would burn. People would die.

  Skhav crossed his arms. “Something must be done. I can’t work in these conditions.”

  Work? I’m planning on kicking you out of the barony!

  Georgi remained silent, eyes flicking between them, beginning to piece together what was transpiring.

  Lucon took a steadying breath.

  I can’t think like Ambrosia Lucon.

  No brilliance. No perfect plan.

  Just him.

  Simple Lucon.

  “We start mining,” he decided. “Right now. We take out as many crystals as we can.”

  A simple plan from a simple mind. He had nothing else.

  Skhav grimaced. “That’s not easy work.”

  “I’ll help!” Hilda blurted out immediately.

  Georgi stared at Lucon. “Not only did you make me break my vow of nonviolence,” he said flatly, “now you want me to mine?”

  Lucon gave him a helpless smile. “Mining isn’t against your vows, is it?”

  Georgi scowled.

  Lucon added half-jokingly, “I’ll even put more coins in the donation plate.”

  The scowl deepened.

  Eventually, the monk sighed, long and tired. “I should have known you and Peytr would drag me into something...” He exhaled. “Fine!”

  No matter what they said about the “Tyrant” he used to be, Georgi had always been a friend before anything else.

  Lucon nodded in thanks. Hiring laborers was not an option. No one else could be involved.

  The operation was too dangerous. Auric could find out.

  They could only rely on themselves.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Lucon turned toward where Skhav had been looking and marched.

  “We need to move fast,” he said.

  ***

  Auric leaned back in his chair, quill resting between his fingers as he reviewed the latest stack of parchment.

  “…Hm?”

  He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he reread a line.

  “The servants were paid?” he asked aloud.

  Warren, sitting before him with his usual stiff posture, adjusted his spectacles.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Auric flipped the page, scanning quickly. Then he paused again.

  "And the families of the deceased from the Wilderwood expedition...given full compensation. In gold.” His voice softened. He looked up. “That was already taken care of?”

  Warren inclined his head. “Indeed, my lord. My son was able to...creatively reallocate some funds from our Teleris holdings. A temporary liquidity shift. The profits from a few discreet sales of minor assets were redirected here, where the need was most immediate. He did it all on his own.”

  Niles sat in a chair beside Warren, his brow furrowing.

  Auric exhaled slowly, his expression helpless. “I wish my eldest son were at least half as competent.”

  Warren allowed himself a fraction of pride. "Peytr may have...indulged last night, but he awoke with a newfound vigor. He was at his desk before dawn, despite the hangover, determined to set things right."

  Niles asked with confusion, “Has your boy always been so…skilled?”

  Warren shook his head. “It seems he is trying to make up for his mistake and has accomplished it, by my estimation.” He turned back to Auric. “Additionally, the Lady's family in the village of Damerel has received the aid they requested. My son found out that one of our older, played-out mines stumbled upon a small, serendipitous vein of low-grade Mana Crystals. The sale provided just enough to see the village through the winter."

  Auric’s eyes widened slightly, then he laughed warmly. “I was going to see to that after winter. He beat me to it.”

  He then turned toward Niles. “It seems I can focus more attention on the charity then. How is it going so far?”

  Niles’ practiced smile returned. “Very well. Especially after your generous donation.”

  Beside him, Warren shifted in his seat. Auric, attuned to the moods of his oldest advisors, noticed.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  The treasurer hesitated, then said carefully, "It is only...perhaps we should consider consolidating our efforts closer to home, my lord. Ensuring the barony's foundations are solid before extending our reach so...broadly. The liquidity shift was clever, but it is a temporary measure."

  Auric waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense! We can do both. We must do both. People expect much from the Merchant Hero, and I have never failed them. To turn away from suffering when we have the means to help would betray everything we stand for."

  Niles chuckled smoothly. "Exactly, Auric. It is but as simple as whistling and walking at the same time. Taking care of everyone should be easy for a man of your talents."

  Auric laughed. “You always know just what to say, Niles!”

  Warren inclined his head, but his eyes flicked uneasily toward Niles.

  [Hidden Curtain]

  The air beside the bookcase seemed to waver, and Genevieve was simply there, leaning against the shelves as if she had been part of the room's décor all along.

  Warren jolted, his papers fluttering.

  Auric burst into another laugh. "By the gods, Genevieve! Poor Warren has to suffer your pranks just like the old days!"

  Genevieve shrugged. “It keeps him sharp.”

  Warren let out a long-suffering sigh.

  Niles stared at Genevieve with something hungry and wistful in his eyes.

  Genevieve glided forward and sat atop Auric’s desk, crossing her legs. “It is amusing, having the four of us together again.”

  Auric grinned. “It is! But tell me—how is it that the best-looking one among us has failed to settle down? If you didn’t hide that pretty face of yours, the capital would be overrun by suitors trying to court you.”

  Genevieve leaned slightly toward him. "I have gotten old, Auric. You would tell me to put on a second mask if you saw the wrinkles."

  "Nonsense!" Auric declared. "I bet you're even more beautiful than before! Age has only refined you, I'm sure of it."

  Genevieve laughed, a light, musical sound as she absently traced a pattern on his desk with a gloved finger. "The Merchant Hero and his silver tongue. There was never a girl around you who didn’t feel special."

  Auric turned to Niles. “Don’t you think so? Genevieve has nothing to worry about!”

  Niles blinked, as if breaking out of a trance. “Ah—yes. Of course. She has always been…quite the looker. Any man would be lucky to have her. There are many who would be more than willing to care for her and love her…”

  But his eyes held a quiet defeat as Genevieve’s attention remained fixed on Auric.

  The door opened then, and Lady Mabel entered, carrying a tray with a fresh pot of tea. The atmosphere in the room shifted into a warmer atmosphere.

  Genevieve immediately slipped off the desk and stood properly.

  Mabel wore a bright smile. “My, it is good to see my husband’s closest friends together again.”

  She turned to Genevieve. “I’m glad you could come, despite having moved so far away to the Capital.”

  Genevieve inclined her head. “It is good to see you again, Lady Mabel.”

  Mabel paused. “We’ve known each other for years now. There’s no need to be so formal.”

  “Of course, my Lady,” Genevieve replied, her tone still stiff. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on someone. I will return shortly.”

  Auric raised a hand. “Before you go—I need your help watching my son…”

  Niles agreed right away. “Young Lord Lucon has gotten crafty. Our information broker could come in handy...”

  Mabel put down the tray and became worried, “What is this about, dear? Are you planning on using Genevieve…to spy on our own son?”

  Auric coughed and put on an innocent look. “What is this? Spying? Bah! No! Genevieve is just going to help keep our boy safe.”

  Mabel put her hands on her hips. “If you just want to know what Lucon’s up to, simply ask him!”

  Auric agreed for her sake. “Of course! There is nothing to worry about, I assure you…”

  Genevieve knew what he wanted: Watch Lucon from the shadows.

  She bowed slightly. “I will make sure Young Lord Lucon is…secured.”

  ***

  The sun dipped low over the Wilderwood, casting long, distorted shadows through the dense canopy. Deep within one of its hidden caverns, the sound of metal striking crystal echoed again and again.

  Clink. Crack. Scrape.

  Lucon wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his glove, chest heaving as he pried another shard of glowing Mana Crystal loose from the rock face. His arms burned. His back ached. His legs trembled.

  And yet—

  He smiled.

  The strange, second energy within him pulsed faintly, warm and responsive. With practiced thought, he shifted it, nudging his blessing to favor strength. The fatigue in his muscles dulled. When a sharp ache flared in his shoulder, he redirected the holy power again, and the pain receded like a tide pulled back from shore.

  It felt unreal.

  Like he had borrowed the holy endurance of a monk with twice the amount of blessing.

  The only complication was his inability to harness the third-type of energy that mimicked his brother’s Mana-Aura techniques.

  He glanced sideways.

  Georgi was doing the lion’s share of the labor, his massive form moving with tireless rhythm. Each strike of his pickaxe was empowered by faint golden light that pulsed around his frame. When sweat streamed down his face, a holy spell was cast, and the exhaustion eased. His body healed itself as he worked.

  Skhav, meanwhile, labored without pause, methodical and relentless. He didn’t complain. He didn’t slow. His tamed mana wolf lay outside the cavern entrance, resting on its paws, ears flicking occasionally. Georgi had healed it too after the fight, along with all of them.

  Hilda was…not faring as well.

  Lucon noticed her first when her swings grew uneven. Her breathing came in shallow gasps. She leaned heavily on her pickaxe, shoulders trembling.

  “Hilda,” Lucon called. “Stop.”

  She gasped, “I-I’m fine—”

  She swayed.

  “Not just you,” Lucon said, stepping toward her. “Let’s all take a break.”

  Georgi paused mid-swing.

  Skhav looked over and said, “Without grounding, the crystals’ signal is gone. This part of the forest at least, will not call to the Mana Beasts.”

  Lucon crouched beside Hilda as she slumped down on a nearby rock.

  He said, “That’s good to hear.”

  I can do this, he thought.

  Lucon called Georgi over and the monk held out a glowing hand toward Hilda.

  [Rest for the Weary]

  Hilda’s breathing evened out as he fatigue reduced considerably. She nodded her head in thanks.

  Skhav’s gaze lingered on Georgi.

  After a moment, he said, “I will need a blessing from you, monk.”

  The words made Lucon shift uncomfortably.

  Just like the stories, he thought.

  The Abandoned were always searching for a way to connect back to the gods that had forsaken them.

  Georgi helped Hilda sit up, glancing at the barbarian from the corner of his eye. He didn't turn fully. “...You know that would only harm me. The gods do not look favorably on followers who give a piece of their blessings to…your kind.”

  Skhav was silent for a moment.

  He then asked flatly, “How much? I will pay.”

  Georgi shook his shaven head. “No. I will end up paying a steeper price. My merciful blessing would be at risk. My connection to the Merciful Goddess could be reduced, at worse, taken away from me.”

  Skhav snorted. “Fat baldy.”

  Georgi’s eyes bulged. “Fat?!”

  His arms extended as he flexed, his muscles ballooning absurdly. “You call this fat? I have the best body in the barony—no, the kingdom!”

  He turned to Hilda. “Don’t you think so, Hilda?”

  She smiled warily. “Georgi is quite strong…”

  Satisfied, Georgi shot a triumphant glare back at Skhav, who merely scoffed again.

  A low growl rolled in from outside.

  The mana wolf had risen to its feet, hackles raised, eyes locked on the forest.

  Silence fell over the group.

  The growl deepened.

  They hurried outside through the cavern mouth.

  Shapes were moving between the trees.

  Lucon’s heartbeat raced.

  Mana Beasts.

  That was his first thought.

  But it was worse.

  Dozens of figures emerged from the brush, clad in leathers and furs. And on each of their exposed arms or faces, visible even in the fading light, was the same red tattoo: a ghostly, screaming wraith.

  The Blood Wraiths had returned.