A ceiling fan spun lazily, stirring up the murderous aura that engulfed the shop’s dining room. Flakes of blood were splattered irregularly about the wood flooring; the densest concentration being centered around the pale corpse of a woman.

Near the corpse lay Silva Sorrento. Her figure was short yet carried an authoritative disposition despite her being unconscious. Noticing a slight change in Silva’s breathing, Monty knew he had to hurry. During the time he spent questioning the illusionist, he had decided that he wouldn’t kill Silva. She was crucial to the Greyson plateau as she represented the will of his Majesty, Erwin Kallias.

Any harm that came to her was a casus belli for Erwin to strengthen his control over the plateau. Monty couldn’t allow this, as the Greyson’s were already difficult enough to deal with. Causing chaos also increased the chances of his runes being exposed. This could never be allowed to happen as the known amount of mages with two unique runes could be counted on one’s fingers. And that was without factoring in his age.

Monty was still young and what he’s revealed already brought plenty of attention to him. Killing Silva would only aggravate the situation without giving him any benefits. He shook his head and looked to Emma.

“Good, she’ll wake up in a couple days,” Monty thought to himself. Stretching his arms and legs, he knew he had to prepare himself for the trip. He was not looking forward to carrying Emma and taking her back to the House of Thorne with his level of athleticism.

Monty sighed to himself. Walking over to Emma, he cycled mana through his second rune and picked her up. His arms, back, and legs groaned in protest at the substantial amount of lifting he’d done today but Monty ignored them. The day was young, he couldn’t be worn out from just this.

Carrying Emma on his back, he walked over to the shop’s front door and flipped the sign. He then stood by the door but didn’t exit. Monty turned his head and looked back at Silva, watching her.

It was only when Silva stirred did he move. Leaning down slightly, Monty realized he didn’t know how he would open the door. He felt a thin sweat break out as a slight heat rose to his cheeks. Just as Silva’s hazy eyes wandered to him, Monty managed to pull the door open, his other hand awkwardly supporting Emma’s buttocks.

Sensing Silva looking at him, he glanced back and gave her a mysterious smile. Monty then exited the shop, leaving a confounded Silva staring at the empty doorway. She reacted a moment later, but Monty was already long gone.

After leaving Silva’s shop, Monty dashed into a nearby alleyway and adjusted his grip on Emma. He nearly dropped her back in the shop, causing him to be slightly flustered. Ruining his designs for Silva because his grip was too weak would be the greatest of jokes.

As he weaved through the city’s buildings, Monty reviewed the plans he came up with; he hadn't had much time to given the sudden situation.

Silva’s importance to his Majesty, Erwin Kallias was great, but Monty didn’t believe her death was enough to warrant anything other than an investigation. Of course, Erwin would do his utmost to toughen his reigns over the Greyson’s, but they were just one family of the tens of hospitable plateaus that comprised the Kingdom of Murate. Erwin couldn't spread himself too thinly.

A single mage, albeit one with her third rune, was not enough of an excuse to directly control the Greyson Plateau. Monty didn’t kill her for a different reason. He needed a failsafe in case things go south. By using his second rune to alter his face, as well as hair and eye color, he would have a surrogate self.

One that no one knew about besides the dead illusionist and Silva.

This is why he revealed himself to her just as she woke up. Silva's first thoughts would be of “What happened?” and “Where’s Emma?” She would then remember the strange figure leaving her shop, kidnapping Emma. Silva would obviously search for him, but how could she find someone who doesn’t exist?

Worried and stressed after being unable to find Emma, she would come to inaccurate conclusions such as Monty being from the Greyson’s or even the Cult. It would be then, and only then, that Monty exposed himself, along with the tier-three Emma.

Sensing that Emma had her third rune, Silva would be shocked and ecstatic. A sub-forty-year-old tier-three mage, how rare was that? She would naturally attempt to recruit Emma and Emma, being under Monty’s control by then, would accept. This was hitting three birds with one stone.

It gave Monty a powerful spy in Erwin’s subordinates, made Erwin own him a favor, and allowed him to have an escape route as Silva would extend the job offer to Monty as well. He could then accept the job or decline it, but that point varied depending on his future circumstances.

What mattered was that Erwin owed him a favor for providing a talented tier-three mage. Mages were rare and there were only so many under the Kingdom’s direct command. Erwin was limited by the power of his subordinates, unable to leave the throne. The strength of others was his own.

Despite being the most powerful human in the kingdom, Erwin was trapped by himself in the prison of kingship. Monty decided he would never be a leader; to be free and unfettered, living uncontrolled and unrestrained, without burdens or morals. This was true living.

Erwin, Silva, his uncle, Mira, Astrophel, Iris, were all fixated on secular concepts like loyalty, money, justice, and strength. These were all values that didn’t have any real meaning.

Only by living for oneself, to enjoy all aspects of one’s life regardless of pain or pleasure, could one truly enjoy their life. To be indifferent to mundane matters and being satisfied only by self-improvement. This was what it meant to live, and it was a hard thing to do. Even Monty couldn’t say he was able to, he was still human after all.

As he was thinking, a vile liquid built up in his stomach, forcing its way up his throat and out of his mouth. Monty had truly tested his physical limits, but the destination was near. His surroundings, while still containing a sparse fog, lacked the closeness of a shopping district and took the spaciness of a low-class residential suburbia.

Two-story houses with green lawns and manicured foliage were a common sight, yet there were no people to be found loitering about or working. The houses were abandoned, following the erasure of the middle-class.

Monty wiped his mouth and sluggishly picked Emma back up. It had been an hour since he left the store. Although he had taken many breaks, none of them were long enough for the pain in his muscles to wear off. He was drained. Monty looked around cautiously and entered a seemingly random lot.

The house was like any other, a common design of wood and brick. Monty trudged down the front walk to the house’s door. He knocked once, paused, then knocked six times in succession, causing the door to open. Monty entered quickly, the pungent odor of old wood and dust invading his nose after closing the door behind him. Whoever opened it was nowhere in sight.

Sneezing and coughing, Monty dashed across the curling floorboards into an unlit bookroom. He then placed Emma down and wiped his nose while searching the bookcases. It didn’t take him long to find a copy of “A Thief’s Guide to Finding Hidden Rooms”. Monty pulled it and dragged Emma into the dark passage that appeared, one that directly lead to the House of Thorne. The passage closed after him, leaving nothing but a clean fan-shaped spot on the decrepit floor.

Three days later.

“Cold,” Emma thought, waking up to find herself lying on a familiar, metal table. The glaring, white suns hanging from the spotless ceiling made her squint the moment she opened her eyes. Emma attempted to move her arm only to find herself unable to. Turning her head, she discovered that her limbs were strapped to the table by leather restraints.

“Ah, let me get those for you.”

Monty Thorne said as he entered her peripheral vision. He was dressed in a long lab coat and carrying a glass of what looked like water. He placed it down and undid the clamps that bound Emma to the table before sitting by her side. Emma tried to move, drawing a chuckle out of Monty. None of her limbs responded.

Worried, her brow creased as she turned her head to Monty, looking for an explanation. Emma hadn’t panicked as that wouldn’t do her any good and she’s been in this situation before. Now she only had questions.

“Well, you see,” Monty started, rubbing his chin. “You happened to obtain your third rune during my visit. At the time, I really couldn’t believe it. For such a coincidence to happen is quite strange, especially recently with all that’s been going on…”

He flinched, startling Emma who had been listening intently and wondering what happened recently. Shaking his head, Monty continued, and as if he were reading her mind said, “Nothing really, just a few scuffles here and there. Anyway, you’ve obtained a fabled rune, and quite the special one at that. It’s called Sacrifice and I’ve spent the past couple of days ascertaining what it does. You know, a proper fabled rune appraisal can set you back thousands of inkstones, so I’ll consider it a favor.”

Emma opened her eyes wide. After hearing the words “fabled rune”, she tuned out everything else, her thoughts in turmoil. It was only a minute later that Emma heard an agitated cough come from her side.

Monty stared at her and sighed to himself.

“Are you awake now?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Emma nodded her head in confirmation. She had forgotten herself in elation.

Monty continued, returning to a more solemn tone. “From what I’ve learned, Sacrifice allows you to do just that, sacrifice. The greater the object you give up, the greater the benefit you will receive. But being a fabled rune, Sacrifice is capable of sacrificing more abstract things. Memories, limbs, emotions, even lifespan can all be traded for an equivalent benefit.”

Monty paused, peering intently at Emma. “As for what those benefits are… they can be anything. From building a house to reversing time, anything can be done as long as you pay the right cost.”

“Anything…” Emma mumbled, taken aback. Wasn’t her rune too good? Equivalent exchange was the dream of many, to be able to transmute lead to gold, dirt to inkstone. Her breathing quickened at the thought. Wouldn’t she be in danger if her rune was found out? If some grand figure decided she had too much potential she would be killed without even knowing who did it. She listened closely as Monty continued.

“Fortunately for you, my previous offer still stands. I treat my people very well, so you can rest assured of your safety and comfort,” Monty declared confidently with his hand resting on his chest. Emma had forgotten that he wanted her to work for him. Truthfully, she would have agreed, but she never would. He was a villain. Just remembering his demeanor when he spoke of experimenting on her caused her to shiver. How could a Rott work for someone who stood against everything they represented?

Emma asked, “And if I decline?”

Monty’s face darkened, causing Emma to immediately regret her question. She admonished herself for speaking without thinking. Such a moronic inquiry, the answer was obvious.

“Then, Miss Emma, I would have to extend your stay here for another few days. But I highly discourage you from choosing that fate as your life depends on it.”

Finishing his undisguised threat, Monty picked up the glass of water and used his empty arm to prop her torso into a sitting position.

“Drink this,” he said, “It’ll allow you to move again. Your body is extremely weak right now and is lacking nutrients. I can't have you dying on me now can I?”

Emma highly doubted his words. She opened her mouth to ask what the cup actually contained, but like lightning, Monty moved the cup to her lips and poured its contents down her throat. The syrup was viscous and sweet, not unlike melted candy. Emma thought it tasted pretty good, causing her to unconsciously swallow. She instantly regretted it.

Like a ring of snakes, tendrils of darkness engulfed her vision, her last sight being Monty’s callous face before her consciousness fell into oblivion.