Volume 2, Chapter 14: The Three Assassins, Avea, and Merchants

{266 Days Remaining}

After I had filled my stomach on human flesh, I called out to the three assassins to stand up and lead me out of here. I had been a little surprised to see that the three assassins had barely moved an inch from their spots while I had been eating. They had not even tried to run away or even speak to each other after I had purposely disabled the pillars of flames surrounding us.

Having stripped the body of a male assassin who had been close to my height of five feet and nine inches. I was dressed in their black garbs, a somewhat tight-fitting garment for my body, which had changed back into human form. The clothes were relatively unbloodied since I had wiped away most of the blood on my body with a towel I had found on one of the tables. The tables that had not been broken into pieces, that is.

Stepping over the various corpses and body parts, I moved toward the three assassins who were standing close to each other.

“We shall speak at a later time, after we have gotten out of here, humans. Now, lead the way.”

The three assassins led me through various rooms of different sizes, and through various passageways. Most of them were filled with a few human guards and assassins, some of them Novices, children in training. One of these rooms even contained sleeping chambers.

I collapsed all of them though, stifling the screams of humans who were buried alive under the weight of the falling rocks.

Since I was deep underground, where the earth element was strongest, it was quite easy to use earth magic to collapse the rooms. I only needed to manipulate a few weak parts and rooms and passageways would easily be buried under great, crushing rocks.

Places that did not have even a trace of earth in them, I would have to consume more magic power to use earth magic. Likewise, the same goes for the other three common magic affinities: water, air, and fire.

“How does it feel to betray your fellow assassins?” I asked the three assassins leading me, just loud enough to overcome the avalanche of falling rocks.

The slim, red-haired female assassin looked backward to address me while the other two were fighting a few guards. She was the wielder of the gauntlets with the three-pronged knives attached at their ends. She shrugged a little at me. “We do not really care for others. Just us three surviving is enough.”

“The other two are your friends?” I asked, stepping over the gurgling male guard who had a dagger stuck in his throat.

“I suppose. Why the interest in our relations anyway, monster?”

I was a little surprised at myself. The assassin had asked a good question. Why was I interested in these three anyway. No, in these humans?

I was sure that the only thing I could feel was indifference.

Then it hit me.

The influence of my counterpart was beginning to integrate with my own personality. I wondered at what this would entail. Would I become more like him as I gain more foothold?

I fell silent, unwilling to answer her question. “Just lead on, human,” I said, shooting a jet of fire at a stray guard who had managed to get past the two.

The three of these assassins, I had found out, were the elites of the elites. They were part of Veena's father's personal handpicked potentials. This was why they were easily killing the other human assassins and guards remaining in this branch of Malice.

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When we finally got out of the underground facility after climbing the ladder leading to the small hut, which was just one of the three locations to enter the facility, I collapsed the entrance.

There was no need to collapse the other two entrances—I had destroyed every living thing and almost every room.

This branch of Malice no longer existed.

Thus, I led the three assassins whom I had spared toward one of the major cities in the eastern region of Shail Kingdom. It took a little more than three days of walking and on horseback after stealing a few horses from some raiders and thieves we had found.

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Discourse #12

Let me halt the story here for now, Marius Whitewill, as I am sure you must be somewhat confused. I have revealed to you that my name is Verath and have told you of my other self. So you may address me with that name from now on.

The details I tell you at this point of the story are from my connected memories with my other self. That said, I am sure you are wondering as to what happened with the both of “myselfs.” You shall find out though, as I continue my tale.

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{263 Days Remaining}

The city of Avea, otherwise known as the city of merchants. It was home to Shail Kingdom's many merchants and was governed by one of Shail Kingdom's factions: the Council of Merchants.

It was also home to Merchant Zafer, father's main rival.

To be honest though, the city of Avea was governed by the Zeke family nobles, but that was only in name. The true power behind the city was the Council of Merchants and its five seats, with one of the seats belonging to Merchant Zafer.

Another faction in the eastern region that was also its main ruler was the Guardian of the East, or Baron Ashcroft, who ruled most of the eastern territories and guarded it from outsiders. Like Baron Serle, he was one of the four barons who were answerable only to the king.

King Balan Shail, the magnanimous ruler who was at the ripe age of forty-seven.

During the two days I spent traveling with the three assassins, I had found out their names.

Kal: a twenty-one year old male assassin with short, black hair. He has a plain face and a slim but wiry body. He is about an inch or so shorter than me and has brown eyes.

Gwen: a twenty-four year old female assassin with bright red hair of medium length tied into a ponytail by a black band. She has light, blue eyes and would probably be considered beautiful. She also wields the gauntlets with the three knives attached at the ends.

Ilana: a twenty-five year old female assassin with similar colored hair as Gwen. They are most likely sisters since their features were reminiscent of each other, though I did not ask such questions of them.

The three assassins, after all, would die as soon as I finished eradicating Malice.

The city of Avea, being home to many merchants, had an entrance fee of seven silvers, which was quite expensive. It was one more silver coin than the fee for Asolance, the capital city of the northern region. This was understandable though, since the entrance fee kept the rabbles out. After all, if you could not even afford seven silver coins, you should not be able to enter Avea, the famed merchant city.

The four of us were dressed in the clean clothing we had bought using the money we took from the underground facility. And at this moment, we were passing through the entrance gate to Avea.

Had self-preservation not rule my logic, I would not have cared for such a wait and would have barged into the city, and burn it down into ashes, along with Merchant Zafer. But since my own life was more important and I had other plans on my mind, I took the time to go through the gate, each one of us paying seven silvers.

The sun had reached its zenith and the time was slightly past noon. The city squares and streets were wide, each of them bustling with activity. Not being the least bit narrow, the streets and squares easily allowed us to lead our horses toward the closest stable, where we paid some coins to have our four horses stabled for three days. The city did not allow normal people other than its guards and other officials to ride horses, since rampaging mounts could be dangerous.

The smell, sight, loudness, and the variety of people in Avea were familiar to me. It was as if I was clearly remembering a vivid dream. My past human memories told me that I had been in this city multiple times due to my father being part of the Council of Merchants. By being part of the council, I do not mean that my father had a seat on it. He was just a very well-established merchant who was somewhat equal to the five seats of the council.

My father, Falin Mead, had obtained this reputation and wealth ten years after my mother had died, after I had been born. As a merchant, especially a reputed and wealthy one, you needed to join the Council of Merchants or risk isolation.

This was why I remembered the city's famed Silk District quite distinctly, since father and I often traveled to this city of Avea.

I had, you could say, as a human child, often browsed through that famed district. Rather, I should call it infamous, since the Silk District was a pleasure district. Harem houses, brothels, and every pleasure inducing sin could be found in that district. The darker parts of trade were also found there.

I took the three assassins to the slave section of the Silk District. They were not surprised and had willingly followed me to a darkly-colored shop titled “Dark Needs.” Had the three assassins tried to run away thinking that they would be safe inside the city, they would have been sorely mistaken, their lives cut short.

“Since I do not trust all three of you as far as I can piss, you shall be made into my slaves.” I said in a soft, directed voice. It was a voice that would brook no objections to my command. Death and torture would be their only alternative if they did not obey.

It was strange of me to do this, letting these three humans live. I could only think that my counterpart's personality was influencing me. Both of our personalities were starting to merge a little. I had noticed the obvious hint of curiosity and other unknown feelings I had for these humans. Such weak sentiments they were. Damned counterpart.

“Will you kill us afterward then? After you have obtained the information needed?” Gwen said, replying back in a softer voice. “I would rather kill myself now than to live with a hope that would never come true.”

“You may be right, Gwen. His words that he would spare us are not to be trusted,” Ilana said, switching her gaze from Gwen to me. “Just like you said to us, monster. I also do not trust you as far as I can piss.”

“I also agree, big sisters,” Kal murmured, putting in his agreement. The male assassin, I was beginning to think, had a docile and subservient personality, hanging on to almost every word Gwen and Ilana had said the past three days.

I thought to myself for a while. They were right to remain vigilant toward me. I had been planning on killing the three afterward. It was perhaps a little naive of me to think that they would not suspect me. A few more seconds of silence passed as the three assassins looked at me with wary eyes, before I finally came to a decision.

“Very well,” I said. “You have my word that I shall not kill you.” It was an honest decision because I knew that my time controlling this body was limited. I only had perhaps seven more days or so before the chains I had bound my counterpart with would weaken. The time depended on how much resistance my other self could put up.

“Your words mean nothing, Verath. We do not trust them,” Ilana said in a harsh voice, her hand straying toward the curved sword strapped to her waist.

I looked at Ilana with indifferent eyes, almost as if I was making an attempt at disdaining her. It was in a cold, emotionless voice that I said this. “Do you really think that you could harm me? Almost twenty of your brethren have failed in that attempt. I suggest you do not draw your weapon, else you shall die the very moment you do so.”

“Forgive Ilana for this. Her temper sometimes get the better of her, despite the years of training she has endured,” Gwen said complacently, a hand rested against Ilana's shoulder.

A small frown formed on Ilana's face and she bit her small, lower lips in frustration.

I looked at each of the assassin in their eyes. One pair of brown eyes and two pairs of light, blue eyes met my own twin orbs of dark red—the color of fresh blood against newly-fallen snow.

I said, “You have no choice but to trust my words.” All three fell silent at that. “Now let us go before we become a spectacle for these humans.” I could already feel the gazes of some of the merchants straying toward our group. They were probably beginning to wonder why we remained standing in front of the double doors of the shop called “Dark Needs.”

I opened the double doors with both hands, the three assassins silently following me from behind as I entered the shop.

The interior was spacious and dimly lit. All the windows of the shop were closed and even if they were opened, the dark velvet curtains would have certainly blocked any light from coming through.

Manning behind the counter of the spacious, first floor of the shop was an old man dressed in a brightly colored tunic of purple. Behind him, there were four cabinets filled with dozens upon dozens of strange objects, jars, and bottles. Next to the counter, there was a door that led to the second floor of the shop.

I could see by the price tags that the objects in the four cabinets behind the old man were the most expensive items in the shop. The “normal” items of the shop were placed inside the rows of shelves where only a few customers were browsing through, their nervous and secretive manners telling me that they were most likely inexperienced customers.

The shop, as ever, looked familiar to me—even the old man manning the counter. The old man was the shop owner of Dark Needs. He was also the person whom I had interacted quite often in my human life. We had been close acquaintances during the seventeenth to twentieth year of my past human life.

“Welcome to Dark Needs, the shop for all your dark fantasies.” the old man said in a smooth, confident voice. It was a persuasive voice, a voice that could persuade you into accepting a deal, one which could drop you into an infinite downward spiral of deprivation. A deal that would leave you copper-less.

I strolled toward the old man until I was in front of the large counter; the old man was what one would call a dark merchant, a merchant who solely specialized in the darker aspects of trade. He had a friendly looking face, just what one would expect from a normal, kindly old man with grey hair soon turning white.

“I wish to put basic slave binding marks on these three,” I said, gesturing a hand toward the three assassins behind me.

“Very well, good sir. It shall cost you twelve gold coins, four for each basic binding mark,” the old man said in an unsurprised voice. His expression was neutral and unjudging, the face of an experienced dark merchant. No questions would be asked.

Had this been a normal city instead of the merchant city of Avea, the dark trade would have been looked closely by the military and city guards. Questions would also be asked. But since this was a city which was governed by a puppet noble whom the Council of Merchants controlled, trade, in all aspects, was given free reign.

Of course, there were still laws to outlaw thievery and murder and other such crimes. There were also some small fees to be a merchant too. All of this contributed to the power and wealth of the council.

And if I remember correctly, the three motto of the dark merchants were:

“The shit humans do bring us much gold.”

“Would you like to buy some 'remedies' along with that purchase, good sir? They have great medicinal values.”

“We shall never betray your confidence, good sir... until you run out of gold.”

These were the three sayings of the dark merchants. At least, I think they are, though I believe the old man might have been joking with me during my past conversations with him.

As per the price, I counted out twelve gold coins from the large money sack I had made Kal carry. The brown linen sack contained all the gold and silver we had looted from the branch of Malice and from the few stray thieves we had found on our way here. The sack was about the size of five fists of an adult human male.

“Well then, good sir. Please head up to the second floor and tell the lady there that I sent you for three slave binding marks.”

I nodded and went up to the second floor, Kal, Gwen, and Ilana closely following me up the stairs, which creaked a little from our combined weight. I had known that the old man dark merchant also specialized in slave binding marks, but I had never purchased it before in my past human life.

One slave had been enough for me and I did not wanted another after she had died. After Rhea had died.

The second floor of the shop was filled with shelves upon shelves of thick leather-bound tomes and books, jars with many strange things, and bottles that were filled with what looked to be the hearts and livers of animals. There were also some eyeballs in the liquid-filled jars.

“This does not seem safe,” Kal said weakly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

It was strange that the male assassin would find this place a little nerve-wracking when he had done worse deeds, such as murdering his human targets outright cold with his collection of daggers. I had seen the brutal ways he had killed those guards in the underground facility.

Gwen and Ilana were murmuring softly to each other, their voices low enough that I could not hear them. I ignored the three assassins, or rather the soon-to-be three slaves.

A few more steps brought me in front of the lady of the second floor. She was sitting behind a desk on a comfortable, cushioned chair. On top of the desk, various papers with writing that looked like a goat had shat and piss all over it were seen in a disarray. There was also a bottle of ink with multiple quills lying beside it.

The second floor lady was deep in concentration, her lips slightly pursed, and writing furiously on a white sheet of paper. Her black hair was tied into a bun and her glasses were slightly crooked.

“I have come here for three slave binding marks, basic ones.”

The woman looked up from her desk, showing a startled face with a few loose hair to the sides. She had not been expecting my voice. When the woman finally took notice of my face, she became a little dazed. “Ah, right, right. Wait just one moment, sir,” the woman said, quickly snapping back into attention, no longer mesmerized by my pair of strange, red eyes.

The woman got up from her chair and disappeared behind a room, bringing back a small bottle the size of a child's fist. In her other hand, she held three small plates neatly stacked on top of one another. On top of the stack of plate was a small black knife with a wooden hilt. She laid them all down on her desk, before turning to look at me.

Her face was of absolute discretion, the attitude of a dark merchant. “Where would you like me to place the marks, good sir?” she asked in a neutral voice.

“On their hearts,” I said.

This gave the second floor lady a small pause, which she quickly hid. The location I had chosen was instant death. If the binding magic mark was not smeared with a little of my blood every two days, or forty-eight hours, the mark would explode inwardly, instantly killing the slave. It would cause an explosion inside the slave's heart.

“Very well. I shall need the three to remove their clothing so that I may draw the mark on them.”

I felt a little curiosity eat at me—my counterpart's influence, no doubt. “Tell me, do you know of the slave institution at Milgard Outpost?”

“Ah yes, I do. Why do you ask?”

“There is someone I know there. A mage who can heal.”

“Oh, that guy,” the second floor lady said. “He is an acquaintance of mine, a fellow mage who studied with me.” She picked up the small black knife and held it steady in her left hand, which made me think that she was most likely left-handed. “I shall need some of your blood now.”

I stopped her before she could take my hand to cut at my finger. From the pockets of my brown vest, which underneath it was a grey tunic, I pulled out a small vial of my blood. I had been prepared, not wanting to look suspicious if the woman had tried to cut me. She would have found, to her surprise, that I was very, very hard to cut.

“Oh, you came prepared, I see.” She raised a thin eyebrow at that. “Quite experienced, eh?”

“Discretion is the better part of trade,” I replied to her comment. It quickly made her speechless.

“I suppose I deserve that, eh?” the woman said, taking the vial of blood I held out to her. She uncorked the bottle and spilled the contents evenly into each of the three ceramic plates. Then she drew some blood from the three assassins, putting each of their blood into separate plates, one for each.

The second floor lady opened the small bottle next and poured a small amount of its black liquid into each plate. My blood, which had mixed with the respective blood of the assassins, turned a dark, jet-black color as the black liquid mixed with the red. Soon, the contents of each plate turned entirely black.

I knew the process of how the slave binding mark was created, as I had seen it once before and from my conversations with the old man dark merchant. The only thing I was unsure of was the highly regarded secret—the bottle of black liquid, which was the most important part of the process. It was an alchemy secret of the mages who worked with slaves.

“Ah, there we go. It has finished mixing,” the woman said.

She grabbed a clean quill from her desk and dipped it inside the plate which held Kal's blood and mine. Then she proceeded to create intricate marks on the chest of the half naked Kal, relying on her years of experience to make the drawing process quicker. I could sense her feeding magic into the black ink as she drew the intricate marks.

It took barely five minutes before the intricate, basic slave binding mark was finished upon Kal's chest, at the place where his heart was located. Kal's steadfast stillness and the second floor lady's experience had made the process quicker.

The second floor lady raised her eyebrows when she saw the two female assassins getting undressed, despite the two male still present. She made no comments about it though. My retort about “discretion being the better part of trade,” had made her wary. She had also not made any remarks about the small scars on their bodies.

The woman quickly drew the basic slave binding marks near the left breast of each woman. The bodies of the two female assassins, I could observe, were tanned and lithe, their breasts firm and perky. Not too large, not too small.

“I am finished,” the second floor lady, the female mage, said.

After thanking the mage for her service, I left the shop with my three slaves following behind me, the expressions on their faces unreadable.

Exiting, I stepped out into a blast of sunlight, my eyes adjusting from the dim lighting of the shop. The sky above was a brilliant blue with a carpet of grey clouds mixed in, their movement barely perceptible. The warm heat of late afternoon was felt.

After finding a nice-looking nearby inn, we paid two days worth for two double rooms, one room solely for me, and the other room for the three of them. The day was about to change into night and I had plans.

“Wait for me here,” I said to the three assassins. Then I headed out to the Silk District once more, but not before putting on a black cloak and a hood.

I was dressed in all black.

It was a garment suitable for a nightly murder; an assassination.

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The most expensive brothel in the Silk District.

Sins of Love.

It was one of Merchant Zafer's favorite places to spend his free time. I knew of this habit because father and Zafer had been rivals, though father had never particularly cared much about this relationship. It had annoyed Zafer very much, though he put up a friendly facade.

The one and only thing Falin Mead, my father, had cared about was mother. But since she had died giving birth to me, father had lost his one true care. It was thus that he invested all his time into work, and taking care of the constant and living reminder of his dead love—me.

And though more than two years and a half had passed, the Silk District had remained almost the same. Likewise, I assumed that the habits of Merchant Zafer had remain unchanged.

While I had been asking around for information and observing the city, the twin moons, Seli and Vali, had replaced the sun. Day had turned into night, and the city was now lit by metal lanterns and magic stones.

Instead of patiently asking around about the Council of Merchants and Zafer, I would have liked to kill and eradicate the human pests, but self-preservation dictated the wiser choice. I had no choice but to continue in this fashion.

Sure, I could have taken on a city or two, or even three, but I could not take on a whole kingdom. The eldest, I must also admit, was an opponent whom I could not match, even though I had my Flames of Interitum.

I entered through the double doors of the Sins of Love, a large, white stone building with brown woodwork painted black. The building's structure had many windows and was simple, but elegant looking to the eyes.

I found myself inside the first floor room of the building. The room was dimly lit, the windows covered by thick, black curtains which allowed no light in. The only light to be shed into the room came from the magic stones that gave out weak light; they were attached near the ceiling by a chandelier. On the walls of the room which was divided into sections by heavy, pink drapes, there were life-size paintings of naked women.

And near the door from where I came in from, there was a slim, older looking woman that gave out a mature feeling. She had blood-colored painted nails and was dressed in clothing that barely covered her legs and shoulders. Lying down on a long, red couch with multiple embroidered cushions, she crossed her pale legs, smoking a long pipe.

Behind her, there were four guards, two to each of her sides. All four of them were male and looked overly muscular, their bulging muscles shown off by the sleeveless shirt they wore. Their heads were clean shaven and they had thick mustaches. They were the eunuch guards of the brothel.

“Welcome, handsome. What can I do for you today?” the woman said softly, her tone making each word sound suggestive.

My garment, despite being all black, was not considered out of place here. I took three steps, crossing the heavy carpeted and rug-decorated floor to reach her. We were almost eye-level due to the height of the furniture she was lying down on.

“Is Merchant Zafer here?” I asked.

“We do not give out such information, darling,” the woman said in a lazy voice, her tone no longer suggestive. She had assumed that I was not a customer from my question.

I took two steps closer to the woman, our faces close enough to touch each other. Her brown eyes met my own pair of eyes, which glowed intensely red. They were eyes which valued the lives of human no higher than the dirt on the ground. “I shall not ask you again, woman. Is he here?” My words came out from a deep and inhuman voice. A dragon's voice.

The human woman visibly moved back a little, frightened by the change in me. A guard came forward, putting a large, meaty hand on my shoulder. “You should leave now, sir...before we smash your face in.”

I summoned a sphere of fire near the space where the guard had put his hand on my shoulder. The ball of fire instantly appeared, burning his hand. The hand caught fire, acting as a fuel source for the fire which was no longer fed by magic.

“A mage!” the woman said in a surprised voice, knowing that mages were rare and few in between.

The shrieks of the guard became louder and louder, until he finally managed to put the fire out with the help of another guard who had frantically returned with a pitcher of water. Patches of the skin on his hand had turned into a bloody mess, blood welling up from the torn and livid red skin.

Determination set into the woman's face as she saw that her guards were unwilling to confront me. “You win, mage. I do not want your sort of troubles here, so I shall tell you that Merchant Zafer is currently busy with a woman. I shall, however, have to call the city guards if you give our place further troubles. Leave now before I change my mind.”

I nodded at the human woman and turned my back toward her, leaving the building quickly. I had obtained what I wanted. I had confirmed that Merchant Zafer was indeed in this city and was most likely fucking an expensive harlot right now.

I could already imagine the boss woman sending a warning to Merchant Zafer, whose fat self must have been under a woman at the moment.

Back on the cobbled streets, I walked further and further away from the brothel, forming a good amount of distance before I finally decided on an alley where there were no humans around. Then I jumped up more than twenty feet into the air, landing lightly on the roof of the two floor house, its height no less than eighteen feet. It was most likely a house where a well-off family lived in.

With a firm footing on the steeper, more vertical side of the roof made of four large slopes, I watched the Sins of Love from four streets away. The distance was perhaps more than sixty feet from the spot where the brothel was. On top of this house, which was relatively taller than the other common houses, my view was unimpeded. I had a good vision of where the brothel was.

The night, the dimly lit streets, and the all-black garment I was wearing made me blend into the darkness. Any observer would have been hard-pressed to see my shadowy figure on top of the roof. I was wearing a black hood that shadowed my face and a black cloak that shadowed my body.

I summoned my night-colored magic, knowing that none could see its path unless they were mages of the same level as I was, or was sensitive toward magic. The magic quickly traveled across the sixty feet distance, spreading and surrounding the Sins of Love brothel. It took only a few more seconds until my magic had formed a square perimeter that was more than forty feet on each of its side.

Then I turned the magic into fire.

A square pillar of fire shot off from the ground, burning and surrounding the brothel. The nearby buildings instantly caught on fire due to the flames that licked at them. The heat from the pillar of fire was also no laughing matter, causing the people to run away screaming in warning.

I fed the fire some more of my magic for a few more seconds, willing it to grow larger. Then I stopped, knowing that the fire would continue burning on its own, now that it had a whole street of houses to use as its source of fuel.

I watched for a few more minutes until I was certain that everything and everyone in the brothel had died. Before long, I could see a few of the city's hired mages using water magic to douse the fire, which had already spread into multiple buildings.

Many city guards serving the Council of Merchant directed the people away from the fire. Most of them, however, were busy helping the mages put out the fire. Only a few were actively leading the people and trying to save the people trapped in the nearby burning buildings.

The flames on the brothel, I could see, were beginning to die down. But it was too late. A few minutes too late to save the screaming and burning people in the building. Too late to save their charred corpses. Their Sins of Love had forever been scorched by the fire, a cleansing flame for their deprivation.

No longer caring about the scorching scenery a distance away from me, I jumped them from the roof and disappeared into the night, knowing that the guards would soon set up a perimeter to find the cause of the fire.

I found out later that the end result of the fire was ten completely destroyed buildings, eight damaged buildings, and an unknown amount of casualties which was estimated to be more than fifty. The ruling council, scribes, and guard had not been too sure of the casualties, because it was very hard to keep track of people in the famed Silk District.

Though I should say infamous now that the fire had spread panic and fearful notions into the people.

A few things to note after I had arrived back into the privacy of the inn rooms were the remarks I had received from the three assassins / slaves, who had already heard the quickly spreading news.

Gwen: “Welcome back. Finished with your small task?”

Ilana: “Well, you are certainly a monster among monsters. Ironically true even though you look human...even more than us assassins whose profession is to kill people.” There was a small, palpable silence before she continued. “You would certainly make a wonderful assassin.”

I am not too sure, but I believe Ilana had said that in a sarcastic and cynical voice.

Kal: “...”

Kal. Well, he was speechless, only staring at me with a dumbfounded expression.

Volume 2 (Chapter 15)