A simple upgrade for the Prospector’s Eyes was one thing. It was entirely believable that Casus may have mentioned Krahe’s use of the artifact and its, by now, severely subpar specifications. Krahe had, after all, not mentioned her commissioning of upgraded lenses, and she had not met with Casus since she had picked up her order from the craftsman, meaning he had no way to know. Therefore, if their mentality really was as similar as Casus and Favonia both seemed to think, Favonia could have easily deduced that Krahe would appreciate such an upgrade. Even the possibility of the artifact having additional features beyond visual info-gathering wasn’t that much of a stretch — a face-concealment function especially fit her like a glove. The thing that gave her pause was, well, everything else. It wasn’t just the Oculae were a high-grade artifact. They were, at this point, easily the most powerful magical item in her possession, surpassing even the Atomica, if not in future potential, then at least in terms of how much power she could extract from wielding them right here and now. The ability to halt anyone, no matter what, with the caveat of meeting their gaze, was monstrously powerful, especially if she kept that condition to herself and made sure to kill any enemy who figured it out. Salting the Wounds would permit her to be less lethal in her approach without necessitating a major change in tactics, and would be very useful as a method of disruption against nearly any opponent, especially if its method of imposing “pain” was truly as esoteric and conceptual as the spec readout claimed. Imposing severe pain on an individual that wasn’t properly acquainted with it, for instance due to relying on magical defenses all their life, or perhaps due to being a monster that lacked traditional pain receptors, could prove to be terribly effective. As she went over the system readout and allowed herself to engage in the theoretical scenario of Favonia thinking similarly to herself, Krahe decided that the Oculae were most likely repayment for a perceived debt.

  Finally, she gave voice to that train of thought.

  “I understand that the gap between us is enormous, but something tells me this isn’t something as simple as a hand-me-down. These are for Casus, aren’t they?” she asked, tapping the Oculae’s frame with a finger.

  Favonia drew from her cigar, weighing her words, not necessarily what to say, but how to say it. “I cannot truthfully say that the Oculae are my repayment for saving Casus’ life. The efforts I made and resources I spent to have them made are not equal to the losses his death would incur… Both as a graft-apostle and as a brother. The scales are not yet even between us. I’ve put Casus through the wringer in the effort to harden his hands enough to wield Eisenretter, and soon, it will be your turn. Unfinished thaumaturgies, flawed martial arts, anything. I strongly doubt that there is no bottleneck, no blockage in your advancement that I cannot help break down in the short time I have left in Audunpoint.”

  “Return late, leave early. Chasing someone across the continent?” Krahe asked, not expecting a straight answer. She wouldn’t give one, anyway.

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  Favonia answered as Krahe expected, at least in terms of what she said.

  “Can’t say why. Well, that’s a lie. I can, I just don’t want to explain the who, what, when, where, why. You don’t need to know, so I won’t tell you, simple. I only have a few more days in the city, and since I don’t have much time, I’d at least like to make it quality time.”

  “Wouldn’t happen to do with the Wheel coming to a halt in around two weeks, would it? Now that I think of it, that’s probably why the glasses have those features. They’re insurance so I don’t get eaten by some interdimensional monstrosity, aren’t they?”

  Favonia leaned forward in her seat, at least so far as her bust would allow, and gave Krahe a somewhat thoughtful look, just barely squinting her eyes. She exhaled a serpentine river of glowing-red smoke from her nostrils, as thick as one of Krahe’s arms.

  “Yeah, that too. But they’re mostly for Casus. Otherwise I would’ve just given you a talisman or somesuch,” the gigantic banisher eventually acquiesced. “So two weeks, huh? Thought we had more time than that. At least three or four. Why do you think so?”

  “A wizard told me,” Krahe said, somewhat incredulous at her own words.

  “A wizard or the wizard? Black staff, slit mouth, cloudy eyes. If it was him, we best take him at his word.”

  “...That was him, yes. Two weeks and three days. Two days, now. Do you know-” Krahe began. And again, that damn woman interrupted her.

  “I’ve only met him a few times. Usually says something that doesn’t seem to quite make sense, laughs, and then disappears. The first time he gave me an elixir, said I was ‘not quite right, but interesting’ and that I should watch out for an ambush from one of my allies. With that timeline, I have even less time than I’d previously thought. Your gun, mind if I take a look? I can tell it’s a real series-one Pattner, I have number forty-six. I just want to confirm something.”

  Krahe was a bit cagey about fulfilling the request, but she had shown her Pattner to Casus before. The only thing she had to do was remove the side plate before handing it over, since it had the serial number and dedication to Audun Sorun on the inside.

  “It’s Sorun’s, right? Serial number one of seventy-two,” Favonia pointed out just as Krahe pulled the gun from its holster. “Don’t overthink it. Casus spilled that you’re a Greater Pilgrim, everything else fell into place — Jas’raba, the supermassive Archon Flash, Sorun’s disappearance. Hope he likes wherever he ended up, has to be better than the state he was in last I saw him.”

  Krahe stopped. Her eye twitched.

  “I really want to shoot you right now,” she said to Favonia.

  Favonia chuckled.

  “That’s fair. I must sound patronizing, don’t I? Can’t help it,” she shrugged. “I’m just trying to be friendly and go over everything that needs going over. It’s much easier to deal with monsters than people. Don’t have to play nice, then. Most folk prefer the way I act usually to the crusader. Just show me the gun, you can shoot me after.”

  As Favonia spoke, she pulled a gun out of her hair, similar to Krahe’s Pattner, but a fair bit larger and with darker wood for its furniture. Finding herself feeling the same way she had felt during her encounter with the Wizard, Krahe let out a deeply frustrated sigh and handed over her gun. The banisher proceeded to inspect it in meticulous detail, stripping it down and reassembling it in the process.

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