Nikolai sipped his tea, smiling at the sweet taste of berries and sugar. Traffic bustled along the wide avenue, cobbled with stone and lined with trees on each side.

  The café he was currently visiting was almost like one you might find back on Earth, the only real difference being the lack of a hundred different types of coffee — so full of other ingredients that you could barely even call it coffee anymore.

  The outside seating area, hemmed in by a low hedge, was about half full, and quiet conversation flowed all around him. The area he had chosen was in the richer part of town, evident in both the streets and the people walking them. Jewelry, silks, and tophats were on full display here, but Nikolai had dressed for the occasion.

  His dark hair had grown fairly long and was tied back in a short tail. He wore a suit conjured from his cane, silver buttons gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, and the cane itself leaned against the table within easy reach.

  For an hour or so, he had been practicing his new skill. He had received quite a bit of attention when he arrived — people furtively staring at him over teacups, maids blushing when he smiled at them.

  That hadn’t been the skill, though. Nikolai had always considered himself slightly above average in the looks department, but now, with his transformation… Well, if he had to say it himself, he was pretty. Really pretty. After taking that damn rune, with his vitality and strength shooting through the roof and a week passing for it to settle in, his body had gone from slim athletic to something closer to a professional gymnast crossed with an Olympic swimmer.

  It was honestly jarring to see so many changes happen so quickly. Even in the richer part of the city, he stood out, and he knew it was most likely the fae blood now running through his veins.

  Hence, he was now using his skill to force the exact opposite result — to make himself stand out less, to appear unimportant and uninteresting. It hadn’t worked instantly. At first, it barely seemed to function at all. But gradually, people began forgetting he was there. Even the serving girls walked past him without a glance.

  He glanced down the street casually. From where he sat, he had a clear view of a tall, nondescript building that blended easily with all the others. Most people probably wouldn’t even know what lay behind those windows.

  He did.

  It was one of the more expensive brothels in the city, catering to wealthy clientele — and where Nikolai hoped to find information. Or, if luck favored him, perhaps even that bloody illusionist.

  A quiet ping echoed in his ear as the spell Sevrin had cast earlier broke. It was the signal they had agreed upon.

  Nikolai rose casually, placed a few coins on the table, and, while still maintaining the skill, walked past the other guests. Not one of them even looked his way.

  He strode down the street and turned a corner. Once he reached the shadows, he activated Shadowmeld and merged with them, shooting straight up to a small rooftop wedged between buildings.

  He rematerialized to find Sevrin already waiting, the butler bowing politely at his arrival.

  “Young Master Travelion, how was your practice?” Sevrin asked.

  Nikolai smiled. “Took some work, but this skill will definitely be useful. What about on your end?”

  Sevrin’s smile carried a predatory edge. “I found something — an office on the top floor. The proprietor is there. A normal man, nothing exceptional about him aside from the amount of wealth on display in both his office and on his person. I estimate him to not have reached the tenth stage, also, I don’t believe he is on a combat-oriented path. It should not prove an issue.”

  Nikolai nodded. “Guards?”

  Sevrin shrugged. “Plenty. But you should be able to make your way inside. The windows are barred, but open. The office is at the back of the building, meaning—”

  “Meaning it’s on the shaded side,” Nikolai finished with a grin. “Man, I love this ability.”

  Sevrin smiled. “It is quite rare. So is the vitality rune. It has taken well — no wonder. The Marrowspawn is of our kind, after all.”

  Nikolai blinked. “What? The Marrowspawn was fae?”

  Sevrin nodded. “Yes. Although perhaps not in the purest sense — corrupted and punished — but yes, it was of our world.”

  Nikolai shuddered slightly at Sevrin’s casual inclusion of him in that statement. Sevrin was helpful, but also alien in many ways. Impossible to read. Nikolai had no idea how powerful the butler truly was. He knew he was dangerous though.

  “Alright. No time like the present. Just have to make sure he makes no sound…” Nikolai said, reaching into the pouch beneath his coat.

  He pulled out a smooth black mask, covering his face completely. The two eye slits were narrow, just wide enough to reveal his eyes.

  Sevrin had provided it from the in-between, taken from Nikolai’s own estate. It wasn’t from the physical world — not this one, at any rate. It was enchanted to change his eyes to a faintly glowing teal blue. His hair shifted color as well, becoming a lighter reddish-gold. Perfect. His identity would be completely obscured — which was the entire point.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  He slipped the mask back into his pouch for now. After a brief set of directions from Sevrin, he returned to street level.

  Sevrin was absurdly useful. True, he couldn’t hurt, or directly interfere with their quarry, but there were no rules against watching, stalking, or spying.

  Nikolai walked out onto the street and crossed it at a leisurely pace. He turned down one alley, then another. Once off the main roads, the area became maze-like, and few people passed through except workers. It made finding a dark spot near the target building easy.

  Wrapping himself in shadows, he looked up at the fourth floor where a tightly barred window stood open.

  He wished he could scout the inside first, but it wasn’t possible. Shadowmelding up and hanging from the bars would leave him exposed while waiting for the cooldown. A minute was more than enough time for someone to notice.

  No. He would have to commit.

  If things went bad… well that was what his sword was for right?.

  He donned the mask, grinning at how little it restricted his vision. He wasn’t sure how that worked, but he didn’t care right now.

  With steady steps, he reached the base of the building. Footsteps approached from around the corner — likely a patrolling guard or something. Nikolai activated Shadowmeld.

  The best part? It barely used mana.

  He shot upward along the wall, time stretching strangely as before. Moments later, he slipped through the open window into an empty room.

  He scanned the space carefully before feeling the ability begin to wane. Moving quickly, he reached the desk and materialized silently onto the plush carpet.

  Damn it. The bastard wasn’t there.

  No matter. He could wait.

  In the meantime…

  A mix of excitement and tension surged through him as he scanned the neatly stacked documents. Ledgers. Names. Transactions. Letters.

  He picked one up — an invitation to some kind of event. Interesting, but not immediately useful. Still, it went into his pouch.

  Actually… Why was he wasting time reading any of this? Sevrin would be far better at extracting meaning later.

  In record time, every piece of paper on the desk vanished into his pouch. He turned toward the still-open safe behind him and whispered with a grin, “Idiot.”

  It was filled with coins, jewels, and more ledgers. Nikolai didn’t bother sorting. He simply emptied everything it contained into his pouch as well. Who knew robbing bad people was so much fun?

  As he stuffed the last items away, he heard the door open.

  Instinctively, he moved to the space behind it.

  A thin, wispy-haired man entered — hook-nosed, with an arrogant sneer plastered across his face.

  “Make sure she understands the rules this time, Kork. She might have the looks, but if she doesn’t behave, I’ll send her to the slums for an educational trip,” the man barked.

  Footsteps hurried away. The door clicked shut behind him.

  “Fucking whores… They forget who— Wha—”

  He froze as he noticed Nikolai moving toward him.

  Nikolai cast Mind Wipe. There was barely any resistance to the spell at all.

  Sevrin had been right. Despite the man’s higher stage, he was weak. Nikolai couldn’t help wondering why — no magical defenses, no protective items. Was he truly that confident in his safety?

  Not that it mattered to him, he just thought it was really strange.

  Nikolai nudged the silver ring on his finger. Kaelith had finally gotten it appraised. It was a privacy screen — a mana-fed bubble that prevented sound from escaping.

  Their original plan had involved kidnapping this man. This was better.

  People felt safest in their own homes. Offices. Chairs.

  And if that safety shattered — if someone appeared, bound you, hurt you, and no one came when you screamed…

  That fear stuck.

  That desperation drove mistakes, at least he hoped it would. He admittedly didn’t have a lot of experience in that particular area, not yet anyways.

  Desperation and fear was exactly what Nikolai wanted though.

  He wasn’t happy about hurting someone like this, but Sevrin had confirmed without a shadow of a doubt that this man was a degenerate. Nothing Nikolai did would compare to what he had done to the girls here.

  Mana flowed into the ring. A bubble of stillness formed around them, shimmering faintly at its edges.

  Nikolai inspected the man with Discerning Eye. Not a threat.

  A few seconds later, the man jolted awake.

  A blade pressed against his throat. His wrists were locked to the chair with quicklock manacles — courtesy of Kaelith, he had resisted asking her why she had them.

  The man followed the blade up to Nikolai’s masked face.

  Fear flooded his face instantly, growing pale as a sheet.

  “Wh—who are you?” he stammered.

  Nikolai tilted his head slightly, copying Kaelith’s mannerism.

  “Nocturne.”

  Confusion crossed the man’s face as his eyes darted around. “Who!? Why are you here? What do you want!?”

  Nikolai pointed to the floor. “We are here for you. For this place. For this city. We are here to clean up. To even the balance. To exterminate the rot.”

  It was theater — and theater required a dramatic performance did it not?

  “I can pay—” the man began.

  The blade pressed deeper. Blood began trickling down the man’s neck, and he gulped. He was breathing fast now, sweat coating his brow.

  “No. Instead, you will give me names. Every person you worked with. Employees. Partners. Superiors. All of them.”

  The man’s face drained of color even further. “I can’t… They’ll kill me! This is a legal business! Prostitution is allowed—”

  Nikolai leaned closer, lowering his voice. His masked face only inches from his.

  “You took them. Forced them. Hurt them. We are not here to debate laws. We are here to restore balance. Free choice matters. Even yours, limited as they are in your current circumstances.”

  He raised the blade slightly.

  “All actions have consequences. We are the consequence.”

  Steel flashed.

  The man screamed.