The moment Xanthus opened the door to the pub, Elsamina and the others saw what seemed like any ordinary dilapidated pub that would make you wonder how it stayed afloat.

The wooden tables inside looked as if they’d already started rotting, and there were empty bottles of booze strewn all over the floor. Perhaps due to insufficient profits, there were no actual chairs, and any patrons gracing the place with their presence had to sit on dirty overturned barrels.

These were not the biggest problems though.

‘It reeks…!’

Elsamina’s usually stoic face wrinkled in disgust when her nose was assaulted by the foulest stench she had ever had the misfortune of smelling — and she’d smelled some truly foul things.

“What the fuck!?” Ballor’s face twisted into a grimace as he pushed Elsamina aside and got as far away from the pub as possible. He then started retching, unloading a bit of his breakfast on the street.

Unable to bear the stench either, Elsamina took out a handkerchief and was about to cover her nose with it, but it was wrenched away from her hands almost immediately.

“Why the hell does it smell like ass in here!” Ballor exclaimed before stuffing his nostrils with the handkerchief. “Not that I’ve smelled someone’s ass before!”

“Oh, customers?” A fat man with an apron as greasy as his face greeted them in broken Arkhanian from within the pub. The big smile on his face revealed an incomplete set of teeth and blackened gums. “Come in, come in! I don’t get a lot of business around here. Must be the shitty location. But I’m glad you’re here!”

“There’s a bigger problem here than the location, you fat fuck.”

“Ballor.” Xanthus looked back, his face emotionless. “Stop talking. We’re here for business.”

The bastard clicked his tongue but shut up all the same.

With their warrior leading the way, Ballor also entered with a deep grimace. Reluctantly, Elsamina moved to follow while doing her best to keep a straight face.

Seemingly unoffended by Ballor’s earlier remarks, the pub owner kept up a business smile as he asked, “What’re you looking to drink? If you want something to snack on, I’ll scrounge something up.”

“Maybe next time.” Xanthus calmly said he tapped a finger on the counter three times. “We’re looking for some kinberry wine. Word on the streets says that it’s a delicacy over at Pentagoria.”

“Oh? Well, you sure heard right!” The pub owner chuckled. “Brought it straight from my hometown! How much will you be taking with you?”

“Two barrels will do. And a bottle as well.”

Hearing those words, the smile on the pub owner’s face fell off. “I see. Come with me, then. I keep ‘em in the cellar.”

“Very well. Lead the way.”

With Xanthus taking the lead as usual, the three Arkhanians trailed the pub owner past the counter and into the kitchen, where the pub owner pushed aside some barrels and gestured at a small carpet laid out on the floor.

The pub owner rolled up the carpet to reveal a trap door. “The cellar’s here. It’s a bit dark though. Wish I could provide a lantern, but my pub’s not exactly rolling in business!”

“We can handle it from here.” Ballor shooed him off. “Shove off, you fat cunt.”

With a shrug, the pub owner acquiesced, leaving them be.

“Xanthus, you’re up.”

“I know.”

Naturally, Xanthus had to go first.

 

---

 

Although the stairs leading down to the cellar creaked from the burden of their weight, the wooden structure managed to hold on until their feet were firmly set on the cold stone floor.

As for the darkness of the basement, it was a simple problem to solve with a sorcerer like Ballor in their party. A light flick of his wand was all he needed before every corner of the underground room was illuminated.

'It's about as dirty as I expected it to be.' Elsamina mused.

The sight that unfolded before their eyes was a myriad of dusty wooden shelves lined with rows upon rows of meticulously stacked wine barrels, a testament to the cellar's surprisingly well-stocked inventory. It would have all looked even more impressive if mice and cockroaches weren't scurrying around on the floor.

“Probably all drugged with a bit of glimmerweed extract.” Ballor lightly muttered as he eyed the barrels. He quickly lost interest though, flicking his wand, causing all of the pests around them to die instantly. “Now, where the hell is it…”

Elsamina wondered what the object of her hatred was looking for, but she didn’t have to be curious for long since it seemed like he’d found it already.

“Here it is.” Ballor drew his wand and pointed it at a particular part of the wall that was framed by two of the shelves.

‘A secret door…?’

To a normal person like Elsamina, nothing seemed out of the ordinary regarding the wall, aside from the dust and cobwebs dirtying it. But she knew that secret doors were used widely by Arkhan’s sorcerers to hide their labs and other important rooms.

The countless tiny runes engraved into Ballor’s wand glowed with green light before a select few shone even brighter. A moment later, the wall dissolved into a pile of dust on the stone floor, revealing a dark, stone-paved tunnel.

“Xanth—”

“I know.”

Walking with their usual line-up, the three made their way into the dark tunnel.

 

---

 

After a few minutes of walking down the winding tunnel, they eventually made it to a dead end.

Naturally, this was not actually a dead end.

“Damn, I’m getting sick and tired of all these trap doors…” Ballor grumbled as he drew his wand once again, doing the same thing he’d done at the pub’s cellar to reveal an ornate door where a wall had been. With another flick of his wrist, the door opened on its own, revealing the opulent chamber inside.

Visible through the doorway were golden chandeliers encrusted with glowing orbs of magical light, a velvety red carpet covering the entire floor of the vast room, and numerous guards with swords strapped to their waists waiting by the walls.

‘It’s like the brothel’s reception area…’

That was Elsamina’s first impression of the room.

“Damn. They ripped off my brothel’s design…” Ballor cursed under his breath as he surveyed the surroundings. He roughly grabbed one of the decorative stone statues of a beautiful woman’s head. “Hey, I recognize this bitch! Haha!”

“Welcome, sirs.” A dashing young butler with neat and slicked-back auburn hair walked up to them. “This humble one’s name is Alwick, and I wil—”

“Fuck off, twat.” Ballor scoffed, shooing him away. “Bring out someone who’s actually important."

Alwick visibly bristled at the rudeness. In one fluid movement, a wand shot out from within his right sleeve and it was pointed at Ballor’s chest. “If you think I’m like all these other no-name guards, then you’ve got—”

"Enough, Alwick," a calm yet weathered voice interjected, breaking the tense atmosphere. "We have guests waiting in the back room, and I daresay it won't leave a favorable impression if they were to overhear your quarrel, now would it?"

The fury in the butler's eyes waned slightly upon hearing the chairman's words. "You are right, Chairman Greyviel."

Despite his compliance, Alwick couldn't resist casting one final piercing glare at Ballor, who responded with a contemptuous sneer. His wand zipped back up his sleeve and he put his arm down, preparing to back off and let the old merchant handle things.

But this was a big mistake.

Suddenly, Elsamina was forced to shield her eyes from a blinding surge of green light. When she dared to open them again, Alwick was hurtling through the air while Ballor stood with his wand poised in the direction the butler once occupied.

With a resounding crash, Alwick collided with a wall before slumping to the ground, his life or death unknown.

“Little bitch boy.” Ballor sniggered, stowing away his wand. “Let this be a hard lesson for you that nobody — and I mean nobody — messes with me, Ballor!”

Greyviel, having observed the events unfold, shook his head with a mix of annoyance and resignation. "You're as much of an insufferable prick as ever, Ballor. It's almost comforting to see that some things never change, even as everything else progresses. Now, Xanthus, on the otherhand, is a paragon we should all strive to emulate. Well met, Mr. Xanthus."

Xanthus nodded in greeting but said nothing else.

Not one to miss a veiled insult, Ballor redirected his mockery toward the elderly merchant. “And you’re still teetering on the brink of death, old man. I could smell the reek of death oozing off you while I was in those fucking tunnels.”

Greyviel's expression remained unchanged, his calm demeanor was unwavering despite Ballor's taunts. "Ah, the audacity of youth. You may have wit and power, but you lack the wisdom and grace that come with age."

A sly smile played at the corners of Ballor's lips. "Wisdom and grace? Hah! Old man, spare me your delusions. You're nothing more than a relic clinging to the remnants of your fading influence."

The tension in the room intensified as the two men exchanged cutting remarks, their words dripping with disdain. Elsamina watched in silence, a mixture of concern and fascination evident in her eyes.

‘Greyviel…’

As someone who was initially raised as the heir to a mid-sized company, Elsamina naturally knew who the man was.

There were many titans splitting the market for magitech appliances in Arkhan, and one of them was Greyviel Tech. While others competed over who could make the best, the most efficient, and the most luxurious magitech appliances in the market, Greyviel tech was an outlier that focused their attention on providing for the low and middle-class citizens.

The old man’s name was practically engraved as a brand on sixty percent of the magitech appliances in the republic. Though this had started to wane recently, due to the influx of products from Aizen and the rise of more competitors.

‘And he’s working with scum…’

Any respect Elsamina could have possibly had for such a great merchant was instantly lost once she realized that he likely participated in all sorts of illegal activities in cooperation with the organization Ballor belonged to.

Greyviel's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of amusement dancing within them. "Perhaps you're right, Ballor. My time in this realm is indeed limited. But mark my words, even in my twilight years, I'll accomplish more than you ever could in your prime."

Ballor's smirk faltered for a brief moment before transforming into a mocking laugh. "We shall see, old man. We shall see."

“Is there anything left to see? The profits from your petty little drug and human trafficking schemes will never compare to the millions that my weapons manufacturing earns in a week or two.”

“You…!”

Ballor was about to draw his wand again when he found that his arm was firmly grasped by Xanthus.

“Enough.” The warrior gave the two sorcerers a cold glance. “The Boss is waiting.”

The words seemingly poured cold water on their boiling moods.

Ballor scoffed before shaking off Xanthus' hold and strutting towards the ornate doorway on the far side of the room. “We’ll settle this some other time, old bat.”

“Perhaps we will.” Greyviel stroked his flowing white beard before his gaze hovered over Elsamina. “And I suppose you’re that fool’s toy? The one he always seems to be so proud of.”

Elsamina stood rigid, feeling the weight of the wizened mage's emotionless gaze upon her. There was no trace of desire, anger, or even the faintest hint of interest in his eyes. It was as if he regarded her as nothing more than an inanimate object, a mere subject of inspection.

"Hm. Well, I must say, his descriptions fell short in capturing your true essence," Greyviel muttered to himself, turning his back to Elsamina as he joined Ballor. "Let us hope our esteemed guests find you to their satisfaction."

As Elsamina watched the retreating figure of the old man, anger surged within her, causing her fists to clench tightly. She had grown accustomed to being objectified by men who lusted after her. Through encounters with Xantus and the Aizenian knights at the border, she had come to realize that there were some men who remained unaffected by her natural allure.

But Greyviel was much different.

To him, she wasn't even human, but rather a mere commodity to be traded—a piece of merchandise. It was a bitter realization that stung deeply, awakening the vestiges of dignity she thought she’d lost a long time ago.

‘I don’t want to admit it, but even Ballor’s a bit better…’

Elsamina thought to herself, reluctantly acknowledging that at least Ballor still recognized her humanity.

He may have treated all humans as tools to be exploited, whether sexually or financially, but at least he acknowledged their existence.

"Move," Xanthus's cold voice cut through Elsamina's thoughts, snapping her back to reality.

“Yes…” She nodded and strode forward, following the two sorcerers who, in their own distinct ways, embodied equal measures of despicability.