Silvy looked around, activating [Sphere of Sensation]. Six people. Lindrl had told her to not kill anyone, so that wasn’t an option, as the punishment would be harsh, maybe even deadly. Gathering mana in her eyes, she felt them through her sphere. She had discovered this function in her tests, being pleasantly surprised by it. The moment she activated her mana eyes, the sphere would reveal the same information in its range, even if she wasn’t looking directly at someone. Comparing their aura, she quickly assessed her opponents. They were mostly similar in power, the noble guy the best both at strength and control and the guy with a goatee behind her the worst. She had more mana than any of them, but all of them had finer control over it. It shouldn’t be a problem, though, as she had no intention of using magic to get rid of them.

Auras were very intuitive. The brighter or bigger the flame around the body, the more mana someone had. A wild, uncontrolled flame meant poor control over it, an orderly and straight one meaning more control. Giving a sound judgment was hard, the product of experience. Silvy was comparing her aura to that of her opponents and Lindrl, judging them unable to cast intermediate spells. Probably.

“Cat got your tongue?” the noble guy taunted her. “Let’s burn the monster.”

He cast a firebolt, maintaining it in his hands, his friends following suit. They would attack her just like that?

The answer was yes. A firebolt shot from the man behind her: cowards. Silvy easily dodged the spell, too slow to hit her. The noble guy was in front of her, the firebolt on a collision course with him. He shot his own firebolt forward in panic, the two spells colliding and exploding, the grass below them smoking from the flames, a heatwave expanding outward. Not only were they cowards but also stupid. Or inexperienced, at least; who would shoot at someone when an ally was right behind the target? Moreover, all of them had their wands in hand, another detail demonstrating their inexperience in real fights. It was time they learned it, and Silvy had the perfect lesson in mind: pain.

She rushed forward towards the noble, two mages at his side retaliating with their firebolt, this time aimed to her feet and not to her head. Silvy easily jumped above them, the two firebolts passing below her at the same time, giving her no trouble at all. Landing in front of her target, she kneed him in the stomach hard, moving to his right side to avoid his recoil, her left hand grabbing the wand and cracking it on the back of his head, the opponent falling to the ground unconscious. Weak.

His friends seemed riled up at her display, something Silvy didn’t understand, as even animals ran when they were weaker. Maybe their superior numbers emboldened them, together with the surrounding crowd.

One minute later, six people were on the ground, retching or unconscious, their broken wands at their side. Silvy left the scene unscathed, her opponents too weak and inexperienced to be a challenge.

The people watching the fight from the sidelines parted at her sight, letting her go to the library, a few of them checking on the beaten mages. Silvy idly mused if she could kill some mages and use them as distractions. If she could teach the resulting undeads how to cast spells, that would attract the attention of the [Archmages]… towards her.

Shaking her head and abandoning this plan, she saw the construct behind the desk, just like she had seen it the first time.

“Greetings, Silvy. How can I help you today?” the construct asked, his voice calm and monotone. At least he hadn’t changed, seemingly uninterested or uncaring about her being undead.

“Hello…” Silvy started, suddenly realizing she had never asked its name. Did construct have a name? “Sorry, I never asked your name. How can I call you?” she asked.

“My designation is hardly a name you could remember. You can call me Librarian if you wish.” said Librarian. So much for creativity.

“Designation?” Silvy asked, curious. “What’s that?”

“It’s a series of numbers and letters, first memory, but even my creator didn’t know what they meant.” Librarian answered.

“I’m curious. Can I hear them?”

“43726561746564206279205a616472756d20566963656c2c207468697320636f6e737472756374-” the construct spoke a never-ending list of numbers, spitting them out so fast Silvy could barely follow.

She waved her hands, stopping the construct. “Stop, stop! How many are there?!”

“A few thousand. Would you like me to continue?” the construct asked with his monotonous voice.

“No, thank you. I’ll stick to Librarian. I’m looking for some books about alchemy. Can you tell me about the basic ones?” Silvy asked.

Silvy had realized she had asked herself the wrong question when thinking about her problem. Distracting two [Archmages] was very difficult. The situation became much simpler once she realized she did not need to distract two [Archmages], but two humans. After all, even if they were powerful enough to cast advanced spells, they were still susceptible to poisonous substances. Silvy knew there were some countermeasures against poison, but what about laxatives? After all, could they pay attention to their surroundings when they were busy emptying their suddenly more tender bowels? Another possibility was sedatives, but that wasn’t nearly as much fun.

There was still the problem on how to make them eat it, with Lindrl being the easiest one, as they were living together. She’d have to think of something for Gorvan, and Kal was probably unreachable. Silvy just hoped Kal was too busy with his wounds to care about her.

“Yes. Here’s the list.” Librarian said, scribbling on a piece of paper over eighty books in less than ten seconds. He wrote with both arms two orderly columns, moving so fast she could barely follow them.

Closing her mouth, she took the list, entering the library proper and choosing five books, “Mortar and pestle: how to not break them”, “How to survive your first potion”, “Poisonous herbs you should avoid”, “Your first alchemy”, “Basic recipes for a basic alchemist”, and sitting down to read them. Their titles were derogatory, but the knowledge inside was helpful. Silvy read them thoroughly, learning how to handle various pieces of equipment in the alchemy lab, safety procedures, the shape of various simple herbs, how to recognize them and their alchemical properties, and a few simple recipes.

Finding the equipment for her experiments was not a problem, Lindrl having two laboratories underground, one for creating magical items and one for alchemy. Lindrl showed them to Silvy in the past, illustrating the various tools available, Silvy impressed by their quality but not very interested. Thankfully, her memory didn’t forget, so she could easily recall the interior and its equipment, which she realized reading these books was quite advanced.

Using the laboratory would entail some problems. One, she was not supposed to use it. She’d have to get in at night and out before dawn, thoroughly clean the equipment and leaving everything how it was before her experiments, using ingredients coming from somewhere else because Lindrl surely had some kind of inventory. Which was the biggest problem, because if the first point and second could resolve them by being mindful, she had no idea on how to solve the third one, especially because she couldn't have the ingredients traced back to her.

Well, first things first, she could ask for some lessons from Lindrl at the beginning, and that would mean getting some experience with free ingredients.

Going back to Lindrl, she was not surprised to discover she already knew of her scuffle but quickly moved away from the problem, knowing that Silvy was not responsible. Silvy then told Lindrl she was interested in learning more about alchemy, and the archmage was more than willing to teach her.

Five more days passed, the morning lesson now split between magic and alchemy.

Lindrl had started with mortar and pestle, explaining how to handle them correctly, how to clean them and how to maintain them. She had then explained how to dose your herbs with a scale, using small weights with their weight written on them; how to control a flame, which needed a different strength depending on the concoction created; how to handle various mistakes that could happen, and how to properly clean the equipment. Silvy learned fast, creating a simple smoke bomb at the end of these five days.

It was afternoon of the fifth day, Silvy in the library, reading books about alchemy, this one explaining more complex recipes, when a voice spoke behind her.

“Silvy, right?”

Silvy turned around, surprised, a guy having sneaked behind her without her realizing it at all. Where did he come from? Silvy quickly put her guard up, realizing this guy was dangerous.

“Who are you?” Silvy asked. The man who had sneaked up to her was around one meter and eighty centimeters tall. His face was long, with a square jaw, pointed nose, narrow lips and brown eyes, inexpressive and cold, just like his voice. His black and short hair, together with his beard, completed the figure of someone she should avoid, and his clothes were unassuming, but activating [Sphere of Perception] warned Silvy of the daggers hidden below them. He was not here to kill her, otherwise they wouldn’t be talking right now, and she would be dead. At least she could hear him out.

“No one important. But you are. My companions and I have heard of what happened to you. A sad story. And the Empire didn’t protect you, didn’t it?” he asked, staring deep into Silvy’s eyes as if he was looking into her soul.

“It never did a good job in the first place.” Silvy replied, unfazed. “I grew up in the slums before becoming what I am today.”

“Indeed, it never did. Have you ever asked yourself why there are slums in the first place? Why are people kept outside the walls, in poverty and emancipation?” he continued.

Silvy had never thought about it, too young to realize something was wrong or too busy to ponder over it. Maybe there weren’t enough houses?

“Not enough housing? Is this conversation going somewhere? I’m busy.” she said, irritated at being interrupted.

“Pardon me. I’ll be brief. The negligence and incompetence of the Empire cause the slums and your situation. I was hoping you’d wish to change it, so here I am. If you are interested in hearing more, give this to the red-haired receptionist and follow her instructions.” the man said, leaving a small wooden statue on the table. It depicted a knight in armor, sword thrust into the sky, the details rough, the pedestal with no writing to suggest its history. Except for the mantle. It was extremely detailed as if it was flowing in the wind, with a two-headed deer symbol carved into it. A coat of arms maybe?

The man bowed, surprising Silvy, and walked away. Curiosity made her speak again.

“Wait a moment!” she called, the man turning around. “What’s all this? Are you-” the man cut short Silvy, his words shutting her down.

“Some words are better not spoken in public, young lady. Follow my instruction if you wish to know more, and we’ll be able to speak, in private.” he turned and walked away, leaving Silvy alone with her books. Now she was even more curious and wanted to run after him, but she held back. She turned to the mantle again, studying the symbol. She was in a library, right…

A few minutes later, Silvy opened a huge and old tome. This was a list of coats of arms and nobles of the Empire. It was not dusty, as one would expect, the construct caring for every book independently by how much they were read.

Each family had a dedicated section. Each section started with a detailed image of its coat of arms, with the noble family name above it. It then listed the known family members, but only following the male line, with a short description of which family each wife belonged to. Silvy was a bit irritated at this, but she knew society was mostly patriarchal, so it came to no surprise. After the list, which had a sizable empty space below, there was a list of noteworthy feats of said members, from people reaching a high level to some creating a new fighting style, to others becoming [Archmage] or absorbing other families into their ranks. Silvy skimmed through it, watching only the symbol of each family, but even with her quick speed, it took half an hour to reach the end, finding nothing that resembled a two-headed deer. There was a two-headed lion, but it was so different Silvy didn’t even consider it. Maybe this wasn’t a coat of arms? Or maybe it was a new family? The tome looked old, and maybe it wasn’t updated.

Silvy shrugged, putting the book away. She wasn’t sure this wasn’t an ambush, but then again, she was confident she could escape from whatever they threw at her. After all, she couldn’t follow them outside, and that meant Lindrl would be nearby.

She left the library and went towards the reception, people giving her a wide berth or walking away when seeing her.

Nathana loved her job as a receptionist, loved its simplicity. Her red, flowing straight hair, pretty face and solar disposition made it too simple, people acting as if they had known her for a lifetime. She was attentive and precise in her job, always having customers walking away happier and more satisfied than when they arrived. Her chit-chatting never obnoxious, she easily understood if someone wasn’t keen on her talking, but pushed them to the limit as much as possible without annoying them. That said, there were many people, especially men, more than willing to chat with a pretty young woman who made jokes and laughed with them, always listening to their complaints.

And oh did she listen. She registered every bit of information in her mind, discarding what wasn’t useful and tracking what was, reporting everything at the end of the day. It would surprise people how many details could a carefully phrased question extract from an unknowingly and careless victim, especially if the question came from a woman who might unwittingly show some cleavage here and there, inciting their fantasies and muddling their thoughts.

All of this wouldn’t be possible without her gift, something few people knew about. A Skill gained after all the time spent gauging other people’s emotions and reactions, understanding their desires and using them. It was the perfect Skill for the job, advising her on how far she could push people before sounding suspicious or annoying, how to manipulate them to spit out what she wanted, what were the desires she could use against them. That was why she was assigned here, gathering information in the mages’ guild from patrons and [Mages] both. After all, noble houses used the guilds’ services continuously, always buying or repairing magical items, asking for preferential treatment or a meeting with one of the [Archmages]. And they used butlers and maids, who were happy to share gossip about their employers, especially if they weren’t happy with them and a certain woman made them feel comfortable, pushing the right buttons.

Today was just another regular day in her life, handling orders, answering questions and politely declining the nobles attempt to meet with the archmages. Until whispers started circling around the room, people turning and pointing, the source instantly recognizable, the half-monster child everyone talked about.

Silvy ignored the stares, by now grown accustomed to them. She scanned the receptionist, locating the red-haired one instantly. She was staring at her, like everyone else, blocked in the middle of a conversation with a customer.

Silvy joined her queue, the statue safely stored in her bag of holding. There were four people in front of her, one already at the counter. Two of them moved away from the queue while watching over their shoulders, Silvy shrugging and moving forward behind a middle-aged man clearly uncomfortable with her. People were moving around again, going about their business as before, but their steps were faster than before, their conversation shorter and quieter.

The man at the counter was no different, quickly finishing his business with the receptionist and moving away, the man in front of Silvy almost running forward and away thirty seconds later. This was an unexpected but welcomed development, as apparently she wouldn’t have to queue anymore with people running away from her.

Her turn arrived, Silvy moved up to the counter, bringing out the statue and passing it to the receptionist.

“They told me to come to you with this.” she said, voice low to not be heard by the nearby people. She might not be sure about this whole ordeal, but even she had understood this needed some secrecy, even if she wasn’t sure how much secrecy was possible with a whole room staring at her.

The receptionist took the statue, her hands trembling, turning it around and sneakily checking the symbol on the mantle. “I’ll call our identifier to check out your magic item. Please wait a moment.” she said, voice almost cracking.

Grabbing a whistle from the desk, she spoke into it, sweat beads running across her face. Silvy hadn’t realized it was so hot in here, but then again, she was undead and didn’t feel much to begin with. More likely, the receptionist was scared of her. Silvy shrugged in her mind, the receptionist talking to her again.

“Our identifier will be here in a minute. Please, take a seat over there.” she said, waving at a row of seats to the side, her smile strained and visibly swallowing.

Silvy complied, waiting a couple of minutes for the man to arrive. That receptionist probably had never seen a monster in her life, so it was understandable she was afraid, even if Silvy thought she was exaggerating.

Nathana was having trouble breathing, the experience of meeting that girl terrifying her. That child was a black abyss without end. Her eyes, her voice, everything about her, was wrong. Nathana’s Skill screamed to run, run from this monster, someone who looked at humans like humans looked at insects. Her Skill made her valuable, and she had interrogated every type of criminals in the past. Mass-murderers, slavers, she was worst of them all. Doesn’t matter how evil they were, each one of them was human, with human emotions and thoughts. This child was a deep void, an abyss which swallowed everything, never to come out again. That monster wouldn’t have the slightest trouble killing her, just like Nathana wouldn’t think twice about squashing a bug crawling on her desk. And yet, she had felt hope below all of that… No, that was impossible. What madness had her comrades brought on them, Nathana thought as Rhahnud came to pick up the child, leading her away.

Silvy walked with Rhahnud, the man who had picked her up, to a building near the reception, not used for teaching but as a laboratory. Rhahnud was bald, with a rounded jaw, large nose, puffy lips, and brown eyes, and a bit pudgy. His clothes were elegant and well-maintained, with bright colors.

He had greeted Silvy with warmth, loudly praising her magical skills and insight, stringing praise after praise in a never-ending gab. Uncomfortable receiving all these praises, Silvy had just nodded along, thanking him a few times here and there, even complimenting his clothes once in return.

That courtesy had stirred the conversation from Silvy to this man’s tailor, how he’d surely be thrilled to work on Silvy’s clothes if she let him. She highly doubted that, but they reached the destination before Silvy could answer, Rhahnud rant interrupted by the same man who had talked to Silvy in the library.

“Rhahnud, stop pestering her. I’m happy to see you here, Silvy. Come, let’s sit.” said the inexpressive man sitting at a table.

Silvy recognized the room as a laboratory equipped for the creation of magical items, but the equipment here felt poorer, more generic compared to Lindrl’s more expensive and higher-quality. On her left, equipment filled two metallic desks, all orderly arranged. On the far side stood a cabinet as big as half of the wall, each drawer closed and locked, probably with more equipment or material inside, and to its right, a door leading further in. A table was in the center of the room, clearly out of place, and Rhahnud went to sit there, a light illuminating the surroundings from a stone above the table.

Silvy, on the other hand, didn’t sit, activating [Sphere of Sensation], quickly discovering another figure in the room, behind the door. She spun around, casting [Mana Blade] and thrusting it through the wooden door, a slim woman ducking and rolling away from it, dodging the blow. Before Silvy could continue the fight, a voice stopped them, Silvy keeping her guard up.

“Woah, stop, please! Silvy, she’s an ally. Timapha, I told you it wasn’t a good idea.” the inexpressive man said, this time not being inexpressive.

Silvy looked at the group, backing a few steps towards the door. Was this a trap?

“Sorry, sorry!” the woman said, a small laugh coming from her, scratching her head. “I had to see if you were as good as they say. Holy shit, that almost killed me! You’re scary, little one. I’m Timapha, by the way. Sorry for this, it was an innocent test.” the woman said, winking and sticking out her tongue at the end. She was short, Silvy reaching her chin. Her face was round with a softly shaped jaw, a straight nose, thin lips, and brown playful eyes, with long, fine blonde hairs freely falling on her shoulders. She was wearing leather armor, a stark contrast to the clothes worn by everyone else.

“You almost died to test me?” Silvy asked, unsure of what to make of this.

Timapha shrugged. “We need to know if you’re capable. You are, at least in my book.” she said, sprawling on a nearby chair.

“If this is over, do you mind closing the door, Silvy?” the inexpressive man asked, raising an eyebrow at the hole in the door but not commenting any further.

“Good. I’m sure you have many questions, but they must wait. Before that, we need to know you are not against us. We’ll ask you some questions, with a truth tablet as a witness. Is this acceptable? You are free to leave without consequence if not.” the man said, trying to reassure Silvy.

Silvy shrugged. “It’s fine by me, but I might not answer. After all, I don’t even know who you are.”

“Fair enough.” the man said. “Then, let’s start. Are you a spy from the empire?”

“No.” Silvy answered, tilting her eyebrow, the tablet confirming her statement. Were they…

“Have you ever heard about the two-headed deer?”

“No. Is that a monster?” Silvy asked.

“Please, let me finish. Are you loyal to the empire?”

“No.”

“Good, it’s over. Let me introduce myself. I’m Cazhi Ashgleam, and I’m what people may call a revolutionary, just like my partners you see here. We think you might make a good addition to our team, and I’d like to invite you.” Cazhi said, his hand waving at the two people sitting beside him and indicating that Silvy could stop using the tablet.

“A revolutionary? You mean, as in toppling the government?” Silvy asked, confirming her doubts. Why were they contacting her?

“Yes. The Klisser themselves were revolutionaries, having taken control of the empire around two centuries ago from their rightful rulers, the Barkorz family, using the support of the six great families and other minor nobles. We aim to reinstate the rightful rulers.” Cazhi said, his voice passionate.

“And why do you tell me this? I’m not sure I care, no offense.” Silvy said.

“None taken. You are too young to fully understand such an association. You might not care about reinstating the rightful rulers, but don’t you wish to take vengeance for what happened to you, for what the Empire did?” Cazhi asked.

Well, she didn’t really care. But she could lie now; she didn’t need to use the tablet anymore, the group having finished testing her, having a normal conversation. In fact, depending on how it went, they might help her contact the outside, helping her buy what she needed, even if she didn’t join them.

“Yes, I do.” Silvy said, lying. “But how can I help? I can’t go out the guild if you didn’t know.”

“We know. The whole city knows. But, you are useful to our plan nevertheless, and in fact, you might be the most important part. If you wish to hear more, we need to have your word you won’t say any of it to anyone else.” Cazhi said, pointing at the truth tablet again.

Shrugging, Silvy put her hand on it again. “I won’t tell anyone about your plan.” Right now, she had no intention of blurting out anything to anyone, as their collaboration could reveal quite useful for her plan, maybe fundamental. Even if she didn’t join them, she wouldn’t go around spreading this information, as it would attract even more attention to herself. The tablet confirmed the truth, decreasing the tension in the room.

“I knew it, little Silvy! You are one of us!” Timapha said, her hands up in the air. If she knew why would she test her? Whatever.

“She’s not one of us, yet. And that is my next question. Our faction has no official name, as that would mean leaving unnecessary proof, but many call us two-headed deers. We aim to topple the Klisser family, and to that end, we have united behind a single flag. Do you wish to join us, Silvy Wurlrud?” Cazhi asked.

Silvy’s head started spinning. Wurlrud?! Who was that? Her mother had no surname, so she had never inherited one. Her father?!

Silvy shot to her feet, the chair toppling over. “Wurlrud? Is that my father?!” Why was she feeling like this? He had betrayed her! He had abandoned her! Why did she want to cry?! Why did she want to hear about him?!

“Indeed. We’ve made our investigation, and we have uncovered your father’s identity, courtesy of the adventurer’s guild master. Wurlrud Roland, elf adventurer: very rare. But that can wait; do you want to join?” Cazhi asked, this time with a smile.

‘They are using me-you-us. Just like our father. Just like when he sold us. It’s a trap. A trap works only if the victim is unaware. Join them, betray them. Not yet.’

People saw a child when they looked at Silvy. Around twelve years old, easily manipulated. She was not twelve anymore, having lived twice now, becoming two people in one, twelve years old Silvy and twenty-seven years old Erika. They think they can outsmart us?!

Silvy felt calm washing over her, suppressing her emotions, the process initiated by her without realizing it. Three opponents, all three armed. Timapha was around her level, a [Warrior]. Rhahnud was a [Mage], higher level than her, able to cast intermediate spells if she read his aura correctly. But Cazhi was the most dangerous one. He had snuck up to Silvy effortlessly, taking her by surprise. Even now, she could not gauge him: one moment, he seemed ready to spring into battle, and the next he was a friendly neighbor relaxing on a chair. She was not sure of her victory against all of them. Maybe one on one she could, but one against three? No, even with her undead power. Attacking and recovering the information after that was not a good idea.

Wait. Why did she want to attack them? They were tools to use and dispose of. Yes. They would help her escape, and she’d help them, or at least pretend to. Using and discarding them right after.

“Alright, I’m part of your gang, for now. Happy?” Silvy asked, a bit of a sneer in her tone, truth tablet confirming her statement.

“We are not a gang: we are an organization with a defined chain of command and objective. We are not some kind of petty criminals, even if, technically, we are criminals. Very well.” Cazhi said, waving and fishing out a map of the city from his bag. “This is the city of Chilog. Here’s the mages’ guild. The [King] will arrive here in two months, going directly to the castle, a sizable convoy escorting him.” he pointed at the various places. “On the road, he’ll move with an army, so assassinating him there is extremely hard, and neither we’ll be able to infiltrate the central castle, the security too high. But, a small bird told me he’s interested in you, and specifically, to talk with you.” Cazhi smiled.

“Who told you that?” Silvy asked, head tilted to the side.

“Well, that’s not a question I’ll answer. Suffice to say, we have our sources, reliable ones. Now, here’s the general outline of the plan. The ideal situation would be for the king to come inside the guild to talk with you, but that is unlikely. Most likely, you’ll be transferred to the castle, chained and with no equipment. Are you following me for now?” Cazhi asked.

“Yes. But how am I supposed to do anything without equipment?” Silvy asked. She didn’t want to separate from her money, and mostly, from her wand. She still needed it for casting magic, even if her control was getting better and better.

“I’ll explain it later. Now, firstly, the king will talk to you in public, with nobles witnessing the exchange, maybe even asking some questions themselves. I don’t know what he’ll ask. I can take an educated guess, but that’s not the important part: just don’t appear as a complete savage and everything will be alright.”

“Well, that’s not hard.” Silvy said, shrugging.

“Indeed. It’s mostly for exposure, letting the nobles accept your existence. After this exchange, he’ll come to you privately. That’s when you’ll strike: his escort will be at its lowest, most likely with a single guard nearby.”

“I don’t want to ruin all of your plans, but how am I supposed to kill him without equipment, with who knows how many guards around, from inside a cell, restrained? I’m not a strategist, but I feel like you are missing a lot of details here.” Silvy said, arms crossed, questioning his intelligence.

“Right to the point of the problem! I like it, Silvy.” Rhahnud said, Timapha smiling nodding along.