Udarthis half-walked, half-slithered through Ring Four, trying not to trip on the debris strewn everywhere. He was seeking to be fast rather than careful. The quicker he finished this job, the quicker he could return to the undercity, where things were a lot calmer and made a ton more sense.

  No giant bugs had invaded Zairgon’s infamous Ring Zero, for which Udarthis was ever-grateful. In fact, that gratitude was why he had even accepted Shagor’s little job.

  Find the cultist. Gut his disgusting human arse. Get out. Simpler than cleaning his chin scales.

  Especially since he was wearing the face of that utter imbecile, Khagnio.

  Udarthis normally wasn’t capable of Impersonation. His Aspect had a lot of tricky requirements, so he usually reserved it for very special occasions. Apparently, according to the leader of the Roaring Claws, this job counted as one. Eh, who was Udarthis to judge. He was getting paid extra and that was all that mattered.

  Shagor had warned that the target was tricky and had even survived two meetings with the big half-Scalekin, half-Rakshasa. Udarthis knew it full well. He had stood witness to the first one in Ring Zero, had fought the bastard personally in Ring Four.

  That was why they had opted for this clandestine operation. Assassination, rather than a direct brawl. Shagor didn’t care that he hadn’t gotten to pulverize the human himself.

  The job came first.

  Udarthis did wonder where the money came from, because he had been offered a really hefty bonus. If he was getting that much, then how much was his boss getting paid for it? And for dealing with one measly Ring Four shit stain too. What in the Pits was going on here?

  Eh, screw it. A job was a job. Nothing more to it than that.

  The little maggots were really busy dealing with the whole aftermath of the invasion. Clearing debris, cleaning up as best as they could, dragging off monstrous corpses. Pits-cursed puss-breathers were actually going to eat the monstrosities. Just the thought of it made Udarthis want to hurl. He had been raised on much better stuff than this dung.

  Nobody gave him any second looks. A few here and there, but certainly no third looks. Nor any stares.

  As far as Udarthis knew, that scale-scum Khagnio wasn’t exactly a known quantity here. But these people were just too busy hauling shit everywhere to pay much attention to Udarthis. All the better for him.

  The temple loomed before long. So pathetic. On the face of it, the building was nothing much at all. Even simple apartments on Ring Three would dwarf it. Yet, the rest of the neighbourhood was such a ramshackle, downtrodden mess, the temple felt like a grand structure of the Banished Gods themselves. So Pits-cursed worthless.

  Udarthis appreciated that his entry went uncontested. He had done his best to simulate Khagnio’s voice, which wasn’t difficult since he had heard the prat prattle on for way longer than necessary.

  “Oh, you’re here to see Cultist Ross?” the wiry man at the temple door—or lack thereof—asked. “Come right this way. Congratulations on getting your tail back, by the way. I’m glad it returned to normal.”

  There was something odd about the temple’s interior. It was a lot emptier than he had expected, like it was in some sort of transitory state.

  Shagor had given Udarthis a little bit of context, with how it was supposedly changing ownership. He hadn’t even known temples could be bought and sold. Who in their right minds would even want this dump?

  Whatever. It had been important intel because there was the off-chance that Udarthis wouldn’t have found his target here. But it looked like that worry wasn’t going to materialize.

  “Thanks,” Udarthis hissed out, trying out Khagnio’s annoying smirk. Inwardly, though, he was backpedalling. What in the Pits was all this about his tail? More importantly, why hadn’t he, Udarthis, been told about it? “Think we can talk in private?”

  “Of course. Go on, please.”

  The overly polite idiot left Udarthis at the steps. Taking them two at a time, he soon found his way to the office where his target was no doubt patiently waiting for his gutting.

  “One sec,” the target said from within.

  The door opened, revealing a dark-haired man dressed in cult robes that just had an extra golden sun symbol belted at his waist to differentiate him as the leader. There was that, then there was the sense of strange power Udarthis got from the fellow. A weirdly magnetic sensation that was also scorching somehow. Like if Udarthis got too close, he’d get burned alive, naturally-heat-resistant scales or no.

  What in the Pits had happened? He hadn’t felt anything like this the last time…

  Udarthis got over his initial reaction quickly. The man was limping. One of his legs was missing, a makeshift crutch keeping him upright.

  It almost made Udarthis laugh. His job had been served up on a silver platter.

  “Khagnio!” The man’s expression had been guarded when he had opened the door. Now, it seemed a little forcefully cheerful. “I wasn’t expecting you. What brings you all the way over to the temple?”

  He turned away, starting to limp towards the chair behind his ratty desk filled with all sorts of crap. Udarthis only had eyes for his target, though.

  “I was—”

  “Sorry, little worm,” Udarthis said, letting the falsetto of that jerk Khagnio’s voice finally drop. What a relief. “But it’s late and I really want to go home.”

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  For all that Udarthis had sensed great potential in the man, the capability of great power, he was far too slow to react. Almost a shame, really. He could see how Shagor had trouble killing him up front. Thankfully, Udarthis didn’t have to fight the bastard. Just kill.

  The knife stabbed home, burying into the man’s back from behind with a gush of blood.

  Captain Revayne wasn’t normally antsy, but the events of the last few days had left her nerves rightfully frayed. The Blight Swarm had been so much more intense than she had been expecting.

  And she hadn’t even been selected as one of those who was to enter the Nether Vein. That had been almost disastrous. Just thinking about it set her spine tingling unpleasantly.

  It was nice her books ate up her feelings in no time. Time to focus.

  The Ring One courtroom wasn’t as packed as it had been on the day of House Kalnislaw’s trial. People were still busy dealing with the aftermath of the Blight Swarm’s invasion.

  That said, several important personages had made sure to be present. Almost all the nobles of Ring Two, the group least affected by the invasion, had taken their seats to the left. Made sense, if Revayne was being honest. After all, the decisions made here would have terrible implications for the lot of them.

  Those from Ring Three who could spare their time had arrived to take seats in Ring Three’s bloc. Captain Revayne recognized the blacksmith that Ross liked to frequent, Gutran. There were others besides. The head of a wealthy merchant house. Some professors from Xokrist Academy. Leaders of the Alchemist’s, Adventurer’s, Healer’s, Artificer’s, and various other guilds.

  This trial might not have had the same kind of audience as the one that day, but the momentousness had still gathered enough of a powerful presence.

  The only one missing was Ross.

  Captain Revayne wasn’t one to feel nervous. Truth be told, she wasn’t one to feel much of anything at all. Not until she had inspected the feeling through her Aspect of Escapism and determined it was worthy of being felt. But for once, as the anxiety surfaced, she let the heart-clenching sensation stick. It helped her stay on her toes.

  “To wit,” Councillor Githa said. Her partially translucent body was a little more solid than usual, which was supposedly because she had spent a great deal of mana during the invasion. “We have gathered here today to discuss two matters of import. Both matters are regarding two Great Houses of Zairgon.”

  Captain Revayne saw the nobles all stiffen as one, including her own father sticking to one corner. She could have taken some pleasure from the sight, but her book ate the feeling, which was fine.

  “The first matter,” said Councillor Wargrog, leaning forward a little, which made his Ogre tusks bare out of his beard. “Is that of House Kalnislaw abandoning their lands. We request the members of House Kalnislaw to step forward and state their intentions to leave no doubt that this abandonment is entirely voluntary.”

  Right. While there was little love lost between the Councillors and the Great Houses, they wouldn’t want it to be seen as them taking direct actions against the nobles. That would be a step too far.

  Both Lord and Lady Kalnislaw came forward. Neither had taken positions in the nobles’ stands, opting to wait by the centre of the courtroom.

  “Our son, Zoltan Kalnislaw, has been missing for a few weeks now,” Lord Kalnislaw said. While his mannerisms were stoic, Captain Revayne’s book didn’t fail to explain that the head of the second most prominent Scarseeker House in Zairgon was very despondent at the loss of his son. “However, we have discovered his location.”

  Lady Kalnislaw hesitated for a moment but then stepped forward with the same resolution her husband was displaying. “He has been discovered in the Nether Vein.” The room became a lot more hushed at that. “We intend to go find our beloved child and save him before it is too late.”

  They could ask why the Kalnislaws had to go personally. Wouldn’t it have been better for at least one of them to remain and take care of House matters, while the other went ahead with the search?

  But, as Captain Revayne’s book quickly confirmed, there was a great deal of context that had to be considered. House Kalnislaw was failing. Their business was essentially drying up, especially after the recent issue with the Scarthralls had taken an axe to their finances. They were, in truth, a Great House in name only.

  The reactions among the nobles were greatly mixed. Revayne spotted some sympathy for the poor family’s plight, but alongside that, there was a lot of consternation as this would more or less spell the official end of House Kalnislaw.

  A loss of a Great House, no matter how weakened, was always a blow.

  Then there was the veiled avarice. With a Great House gone, the remnants of their properties and finances were surely up for grabs. Even the sympathetic ones were at least somewhat eager to see what the Councillors thought about it. There were procedures to be followed, but the procedures had options.

  “Thank you,” Councillor Ghistara said. The prettily-dressed Scalekin was once again only present through her magical rainfall creating her presence. “In a similar manner, the other matter we must deal with is the issue of House Brasvay attempting to purchase temple lands on Ring Four.”

  As Revayne’s book stated, Brasvay’s desire for the Sun Cult temple was more or less an open secret. No one was surprised in the courthouse, not even members of Ring Three.

  But there was still a bit of anticipatory shuffling. The ruling here would matter a great deal in settling future cases regarding similar “business” conducted between Rings Two and Four. It might open up channels for Ring Three to conduct their own dealings with the lowest Ring of Zairgon too.

  Normally, no one would care, but if a Great House saw some value there, then there was potentially something to be extracted for everyone. Revayne disliked thinking of an entire Ring in that fashion, but reality certainly didn’t care for her preferences.

  “The issue arises in that a member of Ring Two wishes to purchase Ring Four lands that are generally considered safe from being outright bought out in the manner House Brasvay is seeking,” Councillor Se-Vigilance said. “We have discovered an old deed to the land that bypasses that law, for it was enacted well before such a provision was secured for the temple.”

  “But…” Revayne urged with a murmur.

  “But,” Se-Vigilance said, almost as though she had heard the captain of the guards. “Even such deeds can be challenged should it be discovered that the beneficiary of the deed is conducting improper business or otherwise causing a fallout worse than the deeded land’s current occupants.”

  As soon as her words finished, Lord Brasvay stood up, the jewels on his horns glinting even in the courtroom’s low light. “We take umbrage at that characterization, Councillor. Nothing we have done has been improper.”

  “I did not say you or yours conducted improprieties, Lord Brasvay,” Se-Vigilance nodded.

  “And yet, it was implied. Why else would we be entertaining notions such as challenging the deed?”

  “That is what we would like to discuss. If you would kindly take your seat so we may proceed…”

  Brasvay obviously didn’t appreciate the rebuke, minor or otherwise, but did as he was bidden. “You speak of challenging, Councillor, but is it coming from the Council itself? For I do not see any challengers in the courtroom.”

  That was the core issue. The person initiating the challenge still wasn’t here, which had been bothering Revayne from the beginning. Ross’s absence was going to be the biggest—

  The courtroom doors opened. Revayne wasn’t the only one turning to see who would dare barge in like that on such an important meeting. She was also probably not the only one experiencing a good amount of shock at seeing a clearly injured but highly alert Ross Moreland walking into the courtroom, followed by the most curious ensemble she could have imagined.

  Two Scalekin, one of whom looked almost like a Scarseeker as well as a Scalekin while the other was hogtied and beaten bloody, as well as various odds-and-ends from Ring Four. Oh, and there was Hamsik Kalnislaw as well.

  “Was someone saying something about a challenge?” Ross said, voice echoing through the courtroom. Then he threw the bound Scalekin forward, making the beaten man sprawl in the centre of the court. “Because I’ve got my challenge right here.”