Despite having dealt out the violent deaths of almost a dozen high-level adventurers with barely a flinch, Hirrus found himself feeling a tingle of fear at Dahlia’s glare. It wormed its way through his eyes and into his gut, making him want to squirm.

He knew what this was about before she even spoke.

Hirrus had been so focused on killing Clive and rescuing Alric that he hadn’t taken the time to reflect on the situation. Now that he had a second to breathe, he knew what her concern would be.

She began with a click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I assume you’ve seen the error of your ways? That your decisions have consequences, and you’re not the only one who can suffer them.”

“I made things right.”

Dahlia smiled thinly. It was not a happy smile. “Oh, so you’ve turned Alric away? Sent him to safety?”

“No.”

Dahlia struggled to sit up a little more so that she could cross her arms in disapproval. “Then it sounds like you’ve only set yourself up to have the same problem later on.” Her tone was the perfect amount of motherly. A tad disappointed and not at all judgmental. “Unless you’re only keeping him around so that you can play hero with someone you deem expendable. In which case, well done.”

Maybe a little judgmental.

Hirrus let a sigh escape him. “I’m not going to tell him how to live his life,” Hirrus said, trying to force away his frustration. “He wants to be here. He wants to see Last of the Strong brought down. Maybe it’s because of sadism or greed, and not a desire for justice, but he wants to see this through.”

“And that makes it right for you to involve him?”

“No,” Hirrus said, “it’s his choice. Unlike us, he can do that. He isn’t bound by a decision tree. I won’t force choices on him as long as he can make them himself.”

Dahlia grimaced, but otherwise it seemed as if she didn’t have a response to that.

Hirrus managed not to wince. He was himself free of his decision tree. Able to ignore its directions to return to Yenon.

He could make his own choices just like Alric could.

Dahlia was still bound by her own, though. Thus, Hirrus was making her decisions for her. He had made her come to Inoha.

Made her stay in this room.

Hirrus was doing to her what he was now refusing to do to Alric.

He was no better than the adventurers.

The thought made him squirm in a way Dahlia’s disappointment hadn’t been able to.

“If Alric decides to turn his back on this, I won’t stop him for a second,” Hirrus said after a moment. “You’re right that he’s in danger by standing with me, and if he realizes that, I will not attempt to deceive him. I’ll tell him that myself in the morning, if you prefer. He will choose his own path, though. I won’t stand in the way of that.” He crossed the room to stand next to her, dropping to a knee so that he could put a hand on her shoulder. “If you were allowed to make your own choices, I would do the same for you, I promise. But your decision tree is going to get you killed. I can’t let that happen.”

Dahlia refused to meet his eyes, but her expression did soften slightly. He had to take that as tacit agreement with his course.

Hirrus took a deep breath, and then grimaced immediately. Now that his reflections on the danger Alric was in had passed, he was starting to catch up to the rest of his night.

“I can’t stay here,” he said. “They know this is where I’m staying, and they know I’ve just taken down one of their officers. I can’t let them get their feet under them. If they strike here again, it will be in force, and I may be unable to protect you.”

“So what will you do?” Dahlia asked, shifting and settling back.

“Strike first,” Hirrus said, “at whoever I think is likely to strike me.”

“At who? And where?”

Hirrus furrowed his brow and tapped a finger to his chin. “Clive mentioned someone. There was one person who he said was the sort to take matters into their own hands.” He snapped his fingers twice and the name came to him before the third snap. “Orlina. Whoever that is will be the person coming for me next. Barin will point me in the right direction, and I’ll get the drop on them before they can muster their forces to come for me.”

“Do you even want to go find them?” Dahlia said as she wrestled with her pillow. “If your chosen course is to fight them, it sounds as if the whole guild is going to come to you one at a time if you stay here and wait.”

Hirrus took a step forward to help, but Dahlia shooed him away. “Fine.” He ran his fingers over his stubble. “If I wait then when they come, it will be truly in force. I’ve left survivors to tell them how strong I am. They won’t underestimate me again. I can take on a handful of them at once, perhaps even a half-dozen, but if they bring an army, it will be the end of me. I can’t let them muster that kind of force.”

“You should hurry, then,” Dahlia said, “because if you’re not here when they attack, there’s no telling what will happen to this building without you here to protect us.”

Hirrus looked longingly at the bed he’d had to vacate earlier. Every part of him wanted to rest To deal with the adventurers in the morning.

But Dahlia was right. If he didn’t strike fast, they would come anyway.

The enemy wouldn’t give him a moment to rest, so he wouldn’t give them a moment either.

Hirrus made sure Dahlia was comfortable and then got moving.

The first place he went was Barin’s estate. Even in the twilight hours, long after Hirrus’ first visit, it still had the same number and disposition of guards. They allowed him to walk straight through to the man’s bedroom again.

Sloppy.

Barin was waiting for him there, sitting in a plush armchair facing the door. Despite the obvious setup with intent to cut an imposing figure, the man jumped at Hirrus' entrance with such panic that the blade slipped from his hands to clatter to the floor.

“Hm.” Hirrus grunted as he closed the door behind himself, paying no mind to the dropped weapon. “I see you’ve gotten out from under the bed.”

The large piece of furniture had been righted, and Hirrus noted that there were a number of scrapes and scuffs on the wood now from whoever had pulled it up off of the rumormonger.

Barin grabbed for his weapon, and Hirrus gave a dismissive gesture that stopped the man mid-leap. “Don’t bother with that. Physical violence doesn’t suit you.”

The rumormonger looked down at the weapon. Hirrus could see the wheels turning in the man’s head. The decision tree laying out all possible options.

Eventually he left it on the floor, but not before crossing his arms. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Hirrus noticed that Barin was even pouting. Although at least he had the dignity to try to hide it.

“So what are you here for?” Barin asked, trying to act aloof and unaffected by Hirrus’ presence. “To find Last of the Strong already?”

“Orlina,” Hirrus said. “Who are they and where can I find them?”

Barin tried to act disinterested, but it fell away to confusion. “Orlina? Why?”

“Because I’ve been chasing Last of the Strong’s tail since I started this hunt. Attacks don’t come from the tail, though. I need to go for their teeth. If I’m not wrong, Orlina is one of them.”

“One and all, in all honesty,” Barin grumbled. He paused and straightened up, clearing his throat. “Orlina is the leader of Last of the Strong’s raiding arm. She leads and organizes one of the most fearsome bands of fighters in the entire kingdom. The cream of the crop for the guild.”

“Clive said that she sent one of her best with his squad.” Hirrus hefted the icy greataxe that had belonged to the man Clive had spoken of. “How many like that do you think are at her disposal?”

Barin held up a hand and then retracted it when Hirrus glared. “It depends. From what I understand, adventurers’ raid groups are traditionally eight people, but they can accommodate many more. Not counting Orlina herself, and discounting the man you have already disposed of, that would leave at least six unaccounted for, but it could be as many as twenty. It’s possible that any number of your other victims could have been among them, including Clive.”

“That isn’t promising,” Hirrus said. He had already predicted that a half-dozen adventurers would be an even match for him. If that was the best case scenario he could reasonably hope for, then he would need to form a plan to isolate them.

“You have a reasonable plan, though,” Barin said, interrupting Hirrus’ train of thought. “Going after Last of the Strong with Orlina still outstanding is very unwise. She’s Fidelis’ field general, and if she’s able to direct the efforts of the other officers, they will outmaneuver and kill you.”

At the name of the leader, Hirrus paused. “I will want to know more about Fidelis. Everyone talks about him like he’s some vengeful god I need to fear.” But then Hirrus shook his head, scattering the thought. “I need to deal with what’s in front of me first. There will be plenty of time for ghost stories later. Where can I find Orlina?”

“Orlina usually spends her time at the main guild manor,” Barin said, “but she keeps a small property in the Armorer’s Ward.”

“What are the chances I’ll find her there?”

“Not as low as you may think,” Barin said, raising a hand to calm Hirrus’ concern. “Last of the Strong know about you. More than that, by now they know you’ve hit Clive. It’s possible that you’ve frightened them. If they don’t believe their guild manor is safe, they might all be reinforcing their own homes instead of collected at the manor.”

It was a sound idea. Hirrus wondered if it was dictated by his decision tree. “The Armorer’s Ward, then,” Hirrus said. “Where?”

“There’s an armorer there who, like me, is on the guild’s payroll,” Barin explained. “Her shop is along the river on the south bank, just on the border with the Rogue’s District. It’s called Steel Wings. Orlina’s house is right across the street, on the opposite side from the river.” He closed his eyes, tipping his head to the side as if imagining the place. “Brown door, brown roof. Very plain building.”

“Plain by your standards?” Hirrus asked, looking around at the ostentatious bedroom.

Barin scoffed with a grimace, and pressed his lips into a thin line. “Plain by anyone’s standards. Orlina is not a picky woman. I’m sure she only keeps the place for an emergency.”

“I suppose I should help her justify her purchase.” He hefted the icy greataxe onto his shoulder. A thin smile crossed his lips. It felt cold and deadly. “Give her an emergency.”