Ms. Sanderson quickly hopped onto the carriage, fearlessly inspecting the bodies.
"Tier 6... with military tattoos... tier 5, also with military markings... Tch."
As she searched the bodies, she halted when she came across their feet. With a swipe of her hand, a cleaver swooped down and cut flesh and bone.
From the thud of the cleaver smashing into the carriage wood, the feet went airborne. As if with practiced motion, a dust pan swooped in and caught them mid-air, quickly moving the dismembered limbs into the grass.
There was something connected to the dismembered feet, but Damian couldn't get a good enough look. *Phoosh!* A bright light like the sun flashed on the other side of the carriage, quickly followed by a column of fire. It burned only for an instant, but by its end, the feet were gone, bone and all.
They planned to unleash wraiths behind us... The dreaded thought began to plague Damian; the implication froze him.
Ms. Sanderson, however, seemed unfazed. Not wasting a moment, she swiftly jumped to the other carriage and cut the top off. More dismembered feet flew into the air, only to get caught by a mighty dust pan. *Phoosh!* Another flash fire expanded.
The commotion at the carriages had caught the attention of everyone posted on the walls. A quarter of the people there collapsed from shock.
One poor soul almost tumbled all the way to the ground. Frey, who was sorting potions, let one slip from her grasp. *Crack* The sound brought some of them out of their shocked states.
The emotion twisted into something else, something much uglier. It looked as if demons of anger and hate had populated the wall. Almost in unison, these incarnations of anger began to turn their heads simultaneously toward the Merchants Guild.
Before anyone could let out a righteous shout, Ms. Sanderson commanded, "Tie up the dead! Do not disturb me!" Her roaring command demanded that they follow. No one was willing to go against these words.
Appearing out of thin air, a communicator was already held up to the elf's ear.
Damian would have believed her calm and collected appearance if it weren't for the tapping he heard. *Tap* *Tap* *Tap* The elf was anxiously tapping one foot on the ground as she awaited her call to connect.
Just... just do what you can. Take the next small step. Damian's hand was shaking. Too many thoughts, too many emotions were flooding him and begging to break out.
Tier 6th wraith right fucking behind us! Why! It makes no sense!
Although their whole situation didn't make much sense, once the Valkyrie arrived, it wouldn't be long before the culprits were found and obliterated. However, that didn't account for whether their goals had already been achieved.
Trying to take a page out of Ms. Sanderson's book, Damian quickly hopped onto the carriage and slung one of the foreign-born bodies over his shoulder.
"Higgins, can you find rope or chains amongst all these crates?"
"Yeah, ok..." It seemed that even the cheerful Higgins was still in shock from her discovery. She was their hero of the day, saving everyone there from a near-certain death. The only ones to survive would be those fast enough to reach the Spire.
Lying the body down, Damian could see adventurers and guards following Ms. Sanderson's last order. Hands frantically moved to haul the dead off to the roadside.
Once laid out, soldiers wrapped the bodies up as if they were spiders wrapping prey. This one act wasn't new to these men and women. They've had to do this many times before.
In a short matter of time, the dead were cocooned in wrappings of rope and chain. Several sturdy-looking adventurers were hovering over the bodies with agast looks, ready to bash the heads of the dead in.
You had to be very careful when dealing with a person's rite. At the moment the dead started to become less dead, their bodies would enter extreme convulsions. If you acted too soon and tried to kill the undead, they'd come back as a wraith instead.
To be 100% sure that you didn't act too quickly, you had to wait for their eyes to open and see the rolling black mist go down their cheeks.
Why not just cut off all their limbs? Might you ask? That was indeed an excellent method to keep the undead from harming the living in most cases. But there was always the off chance that, for some reason, the possession would reject the body and deem it too damaged.
Taking a limb or two was almost always safe, but taking all four meant there was a chance that instead of a tied-up undead, you'd have an ethereal wraith barreling down on you.
Scholars have tried to pin down the cause, but none have made conclusive discoveries. The only thing that they know for sure is that cutting the lower limbs off merfolk is the same as preparing for a wraith.
'sigh'
I've been more of a grave digger's assistant than a hero today... Damian cheekily thought to himself.
Taking a moment to look at the carriages, Damian hollered out aimlessly. "Anyone who can drive a carriage needs to move these blasted things away! We don't need any more surprises!"
Some of Higgins's guards quickly removed the wooden planks that kept the wheels from turning and drove them off around the bend of the Spire.
Looking over toward Ms. Sanderson, she was still tapping her foot on the ground, waiting for the other end to pick up her communication.
Hmm... Could the equipment they sold us be defective? Are the potions poisoned, too? Stray worries started to pile up on Damian. With one act of deceit, he couldn't help but question everything.
Should I say this out loud? But that'd probably cause a panic.
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Damian could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His heart and mind raced as he failed to steady himself. Instead, he started to unravel.
Just as he was going to announce his concerns, Frey appeared in front of him and wrapped her arms around him.
"It's going to be ok. You saved us." She was choking up herself. Damian could feel a few tears land on his shoulder.
"But it was Higgins, she's the one who found out... I was right there and didn't realize."
"No one realized, not even the tier 6 with us. And would she have found out if you weren't there?"
"I... I don't know."
"You saved us. We're going to make it out of this. I trust you."
Frey moved to land a deep kiss on his lips. His mind, which was swirling out of control, started to focus only on the woman in front of him. He returned her kiss with just as much passion.
Leaning back, Frey asked, "Are you feeling better now?"
"Ah, yes..." He blushed slightly.
"Ok. So what are you thinking next?"
"Haa... I was concerned that there would be more surprises tonight. Did anyone check the other equipment and potions sold? Could they be defective or poisoned?"
"We have countless people here who wouldn't trust a merchant. Plus, I think Ms. Sanderson was checking the equipment as it was offloaded. She was standing there with her clipboard this entire time for a reason."
"Ah, that's right..."
"Here, let's go over to everyone else."
"Yeah..."
Damian and Frey made their way over toward the crafters Alex was talking to. At first, both their steps were unsteady, but as they walked, they steadied themselves. Walking with direction and purpose.
"Hey! Find anything?" Alex said while waving toward Frey and Damian.
"??"
"What do you mean, 'Find anything?' can't you see all of that?" Damian turned around to point toward the bodies, but the view that met his sight wasn't the one he remembered leaving behind.
What met his vision was the one from earlier that day. The carriages were back where they were, and adventurers were hauling away the packages.
Damian's mind immediately turned to the illusionist in their midst.
She really thought of everything... She immediately covered the area in an illusion, maybe as soon as she saw that arm.
Damian looked over toward the Merchants Guild in the distance. If they had known that we discovered the bodies, would they have sent people out to attack us? Maybe they still will. But what motive do they have?
Looking back at his party, he motioned that they should return to the wall. They wore confused looks because he didn't explain further.
Hmm?
Damian took a look at their other company, the dwarves and humans in blacksmithing aprons were grafting rocks and earth onto very familiar spikes.
It looks like the spikes from our old friend on the 39th floor... So Alex was planning to post up on the wall after all, leaving me to either do nothing or fight on the front lines alone.
It took Damian a moment to realize how grim it all actually was, Alex was going to adopt the very weapon that killed Isaac... Is Donna going to be ok with this?
Taking a side glance toward Donna, she was sitting with her knees up to her chin, staring at the craftsmen's work.
Ok, so probably not good, but maybe alright? I suppose that if I kicked the bucket to a sword, everyone wouldn't get weird around every sword they see, but still... I guess desperate times call for desperate measures, and an effective weapon can't go unused.
Looking over toward the apothecaries, he could see that one of them had a skill to take their workbench with them. The others look at her enviously. She was brewing with materials from earlier floors that their group had cleared days prior.
"What potions are you brewing, and do we have the coin to pay for them?"
"Swiftness potions so we can hightail it into the tower. And we're paying them in materials. They want potions and weapons too." Alex responded.
"Ah, good point..."
Taking a moment to think, Damian decided to give the craftsmen a choice.
"Hey, I am going to give you all a warning, it'll probably be safer to either join us at the wall, or start climbing the tower yourselves. There was a situation at the wall, and there is a decent chance we will be attacked from behind. I can't confirm your safety here."
Paranoia was plaguing Damian. If any of them could be involved in the plot, they wouldn't be able to make contact from within the Spire or with so many adventurers around. Plus, it'd do well to have more witnesses to the Merchants Guild's plot... or at least the P'Ure Merchant Group's.
Should we warn the Merchants Guild in case it was only the P'Ure group involved? That's a gamble I'm not willing to take.
'sigh'
"Ah, shit!" One of the dwarves bellowed.
"I ain't never climbed the tower higher than a few floors to get some grub. No teleporting for me is a bitch and a broken anvil!"
Creative saying... Is it common here, or is he just a unique character? Damian was a little taken aback by the phrase.
Several more of the artisans agreed, stating similar circumstances.
If they were to start climbing the tower now, they would be able to get far enough from the entrance to avoid a wraith's gaze... Unless one of the 500+ wraiths headed their way had tracking skills. Yeah, they are screwed if they can't teleport to a higher floor.
After waiting for a little bit for the crafters to finish their work, they split their forces down the middle. Half planned to journey up the tower seriously for the first time in their lives, and the rest decided to join Damian and his party on their way to the wall.
They had agreed to have adventures sent down the leftmost path to inform the craftsmen when it was safe. They'd likely camp out before a fifth room, ready to teleport outside at the sight of real danger.
Walking back, they reached a point where their vision was slightly altered. Adventurers and guards were still hovering over the dead bodies; none had turned into undead in their absence.
As the clueless craftsmen took in the scene, Damian explained the situation. Throughout the explanation, he and Frey were watching the craftsmen carefully.
If any of them showed signs of suspicion, he'd take them right away to Ms. Sanderson. Fortunately, they all held jaw-dropped expressions, including Donna, Fergus, and Alex.
"Bloody Hell... In all my days, I would have never thought that... I don't bloody know..."
"Does anyone have more information about the P'Ure Merchant Group? We're from out of town and don't know the local politics yet." Frey spoke up.
"Aye, I know about them, I know about them. I work with those bastards frequently enough. We all likely did. They don't fuss over our prices nearly as much as the other merchants do, constantly trying to drive them lower."
"I always thought that they rose up quickly because of it. Making good impressions and giving good prices. They were never ones to worry about making a large profit, only focusing on the quantity of goods sold with as many people as possible..."
Something caught Damian's attention, "You mentioned that they became a big merchant group quickly? How quickly?"
"Ah, how long ago was it? Only 5 years, I believe. That Mr. Bishop and his group had come to town and made a big stir buying up a lot of properties and goods all at once."
"Is that common for a new group to be able to buy so much? Didn't the other merchant groups try to suppress them?"
"Aye, is fairly common. When a big noble sends a 2nd or 3rd offspring into the big city, they tend to do so with a lot of dials in their pockets. I've seen several of em try their luck in town. Some spread word of their families' backings, while others hide that advantage, too prideful."
"Some succeed, and some fail. I just figured that Mr. Bishop was one of the winners in that race. All the other merchants were likely in the same mind. It doesn't do well to poke a noble's children, even if they had been kicked out of the castle."
I'm sure that informants would have investigated the man's background. No one becomes that successful, that quickly, without people being interested.
What noble family line does Mr. Bishop hail from? Or is he even a noble from the Earthen Union? Could he be from another nation? Someone from the Fire Empire, Water Kingdom, or Light Theocracy? Just focus on what you can do next; asking these questions right now won't help.

