With Sebastian joining the training, Nimh began showing his two students the ninety-nine forms in their entirety. He performed them slowly and as accurately as he could, to which he was pleased to notice he had improved.

Not to his original standard, but progress was always nice.

Once he was done, he had Keira practice the first eighteen forms with restricted vital energy. For Sebastian, he tutored the man in the proper forms, helping him to rebuild how he controlled the vital energy in his body.

As it turned out, fixing old flaws was far harder than teaching someone who had never learned the flaws to begin with. He was starting to worry about retraining his soon-to-be students the following day.

Regardless, Nimh took this as a training opportunity. After an hour of tutoring, Sebastian began being able to use his vital energy a little more smoothly and his forms became recognisable as forms.

The following hour was Nimh sparring with both Sebastian and Keira, guiding them and pocking holes in their technique, giving them the opportunity to fix their shortcomings.

By the time Nimh had sparred with them for a while, they dropped to the ground, even Sebastian’s D Rank strength exhausted. Power was not his issue, but control was. It was similar to Keira in some ways, though she was far less stuck in old ways and was progressing well.

When they were done recovering, Nimh called an end to their session. After sorting out the time for their session the following day, Nimh took Sebastian aside to ask a few questions. Keira left and Nimh could feel her leaving the building. He hid a smile as he spoke with Sebastian.

“How are Ranks decided?” he asked.

“Vitality Readers,” Sebastian answered immediately. “You can pay to have people in the City-State jab a Vitality Reader into you and it will measure the amount of vitality in your system. I’m not sure how it does it, but it's how we gauge ranks.”

“Do you have any of those in the undercity?” Nimh asked.

Sebastian nodded. “I do. But they are not accurate. I read as a standard D Rank on them, but I’m really at the bottom of the D Rank. The vitality readers in the City-State can measure more accurately and say just where you sit in the Ranking system.”

Nimh nodded. “I’m going to have to test myself at some point,” Nimh said. “I want to know where I am in the Rankings. Now, how do I gain citizenship? I know being in the undercity doesn’t require it, but I want to leave and see the other undercities.

“I can take care of that,” Sebastian assured him. “Though I am going to have to contact some people on the other side of the wall. They can send an assessor and you can be registered and integrated into the census.”

“That will do,” Nimh smiled. “So how does one make a living on the other side of the wall?”

Their conversation lasted a long time. Nimh asked Sebastian question after question until he was satisfied. Unfortunately, Nimh did not like much of what heard.

In short, Sebastian simply was not well versed in what happened outside the undercity. He had been relegated there since the Prime made his play to attain power. The closest he came to knowledge beyond the walls was what administrators spoon-fed him when they came to call.

Administrators who were B Rank at least.

According to Sebastian, dealing with undercity concerns was something of a punishment. Which meant the majority of his dealings were with foul-tempered and angry individuals who could squash him like a bug.

Nimh almost felt sympathy for him. Though that didn’t make him drop his guard around the man. Not until he saw the full extent and outcome of his tainted spirit.

The two of them made their way to the tower, their conversation taking them away from external undercity matters to more details accounts of the undercity as a whole.

The enlistment had not caused any trouble, the eight pit fighters having been transferred outside the undercity the night before. They didn’t even have time to recover from their wounds.

Now, they had a month before the next enlistment. Plenty of time. Or so Nimh hoped.

Other details included sanitation, law enforcement and the potential upheaval of the slave laws. Sebastian foresaw complications, with several slave owners likely to cause issues.

Nimh had plans for those individuals.

Before long, they made their way into the Tower. Sebastian ordered an E Rank to collect the vitality reader and before long, they were comfortably sitting in Sebastian’s freshly tidied-up office.

When the vitality reader arrived, Sebastian took it and beckoned Nimh to raise the sleeve of his shirt, exposing his arm. Nimh allowed it, keeping a careful watch on Sebastian’s spirit. If he betrayed him, he would sense it and take steps to deal with him.

His caution was unfounded, however, as Sebastian completed the procedure. The vitality reader pricked his arm, not even enough to draw blood, and measured his vitality.

“Definitely D rank,” Sebastian confirmed, making to withdraw the device.

“Wait,” Nimh commanded. Sebastian froze, the device still reading Nimh’s vital energy. Slowly, he circulated his vital energy, first faster, making his skin glow lightly. The device did not change. Then he restricted his flow of vital energy, enough that it caused him physical pain. Still, the device did not vary.

After a few painful moments, Nimh unleashed his vital energy. More power flowed through him than he had felt since entering this world and for an instant, he was drunk on power. Yet the device did not vary.

It was a disappointing result.

“I suspect it reads the physical well somehow,” Nimh commented slowly, nodding for Sebastian to take the device away.

Sebastian did so, looking somewhat pale. Nimh understood. After all, Nimh had just displayed enough power to crush Sebastian where he sat.

“It isn’t the best method, only testing capacity, not utility nor potential.’ He sunk into thought. “You said the vital readers beyond the undercity are more accurate?”

“Yes,” Sebastian confirmed. “if we get you registered, an administrator will come to test you. Though we will need a good story to explain your growth.”

Nimh paused for a moment. “Sebastian, did you know of the original owner of this body?” Sebastian shook his head. “His name was Marcus,” Nimh continued. “His father was killed by one of Sapphire's men, Alonzo. It seemed to be a rough situation. Is it possible that any record of his family exists beyond the wall?”

Sebastian thought about that for a while. “It is not impossible,” he said at length. “The administrators don’t just see to be, so it is not impossible for your host to be known.”

Nimh nodded. “Very well then. If you need a story, then say that I, Marcus, was distraught after my father's death. I sought sanctuary in the sewers and when I came back, I was in a mad frenzy, fighting low-level gangsters. For a month, I was beating down stronger and stronger opponents until I clashed with Wolfgang, beating him. All to draw out Alonzo and Sapphire. We clashed and you saw potential, so you forgave me and decided to use my abilities to make moves outside the undercity.”

Sebastian shook his head. “I am not known to be very charitable. If it’s known you killed my daughter and son, it would be strange if I forgave you.”

‘Even if you were beaten and given an opportunity to survive?” Nimh asked.

The look on Sebastian’s face was pensive. He didn’t want it to be known that he wasn’t the strongest in the undercity. But it would give him a good reason to get rid of Nimh.

“There are prize fights in certain areas of the City-State,” Sebastian said at length. “I have the authority to sponsor fighters if I choose to. We could say we came to an arrangement. I sponsor you as a fighter, you win me some money and we call it even? Would that work?”

They discussed the story more, going into detail. Nimh wasn’t thrilled about entering prize fights, especially not under Sebastian’s name. But if it gave him a legitimate reason to be out of the undercity, he could accept it.

Keira was trailed by a train of ragged, filthy children.

Only five so far, one was four, one was twelve. The rest were ten. The eldest and youngest were boys, skinny frail things that looked tiny compared to their actual age. The three remainders were girls, and they were looking after the little boy.

It had not been difficult to find them, even easier to convince them to join her. One demonstration of her abilities and they joined her, like ducklings following a mother duck.

Now she led them through the undercity, under the scrutiny of dozen eyes. She did not care, those stares were not worth her notice, not anymore. Though she did catch a few lecherous smirks thrown in her direction.

“Well, if it isn’t Whittle Keira. Not signed the slave contract yet, huh?”

The voice made her freeze. She knew it well and the sound made her stomach turn sour.

Slowly turning, she saw a man she had known all her life. Premature grey hair framed an otherwise handsome face. A bulky build, more fat than muscle and dirty clothes. Her father’s brother hadn’t changed. Then again, it had only been a few months since she had been taken away.

Staring coldly at the man, Keira held back a sudden urge to kill him. She knew she could do it. Three steps, a punch with the full force of her vital energy behind it, straight to the throat. He would be dead in an instant.

But she couldn’t move. Her anger frozen by her fear.

He snorted. “What, nothing to say? I can tell you haven’t lost yourself in a slave contract, so I guess Wolfgang and his boys just had some fun with you. So, you a good whore now? I heard Wolfgang saw a bad end, good riddance.’ He spat to the side. “So how did you escape?”

Keira gritted her teeth. The children behind her cowering behind her.

“Keira,” one of the girls whispered. “Who is that?”

She didn’t answer, only watching as the man came closer.

“I suppose it doesn't matter, your free now, huh. You even cleaned up nice,” he said, his pig-like eyes looking her over. “You really are starting to look like your mother, except here.” His meaty fist grabbed a handful of her chest. “A few kids with puff these up a bit, aye?”

The shame and anger burned her fear of the man away. With one sharp movement, her fist came up, striking the man’s arm between wrist and elbow. The snap echoed through the street and the man screamed, so high-pitched that it became girl-like.

“Don’t ever touch me again,” Keira whispered.

Her uncle had not fallen to the ground, instead, he stood stooped, his arm at a disturbing angle as he cradled it.

“You bitch!” he screamed.

She slapped him across the mouth, splaying him out on the ground. He even somersaulted in mid-air. She hadn’t held back.

Taking a few steps forward, she placed her foot on the man’s broken arm. He screamed as she applied pressure.

“Don’t come near me again,” her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. “If you do, I will not kill you. But you will wish I had.”

Grounding her foot down one last time, she turned and gathered the children up, guiding them away. Behind her, she could hear the man weeping.