It was difficult to totally trust the Wraith Lord, which felt hypocritical. Here he was, allying with a monster and telling the others to have some faith, and then baulking himself. Didn’t help that the Wraith Lord’s evil leer and glittering eyes still had a sense of malice about him.

“You intend to survive much as I do, yes?” he asked.

Rory could admit to that much. “We’re making a Safe Zone. That should help stop the monsters.”

He had to make an effort not to add “like you”.

“I know little of such matters,” the Wraith Lord said. “What sort of monsters have you faced so far?”

They had sequestered themselves away in one corner of the bunker while the others prepared to move out, though with great reluctance. It was going to take a little while for them to finish packing everything, however.

So, Rory had more than enough time to explain about the Hooktongue, the Gargoyle, the Thundershells and their master, and the lich as well. The Wraith Lord’s eyes sharpened on Rory at the monsters’ names, as though he recognized them all.

“You have been fortunate to escape unscathed from so many encounters,” he said. “But your troubles haven’t ended yet.”

“Yes, I can see that.”

The dryness of Rory’s voice was probably what made the Wraith Lord shake his head.

“There is more,” he said. “The monsters you have killed are unlikely to be dead in truth.”

Rory swallowed. In the darkness of the bunker, that felt all the more unpleasant to hear. “I knew it.”

“What do you intend to do afterwards?” the Wraith Lord asked. “Once you have established this Safe Zone of yours?”

“Well, then we need to figure out a way to make the system accept it. They won’t allow a third Settlement to exist on its own. That’s why we’re thinking of setting up a merchanting business.”

“Interesting. How do you intend to combat the mercantile business already existing here? I assume there can’t be more than one of those in the same area.”

Rory needed to lick his lips before his words would come out. Arelland hadn’t mentioned anything about another business. Maybe it was new. “Who’s the merchant who’s already here?”

“No single merchant.” The Wraith lord grinned evilly, as though relishing the reveal. “It is an entire conglomerate. The Imps have sent a powerful delegate of their best adepts and economists to start a business.”

Rory’s mind was travelling too fast. He should have foreseen there would be business competition. Setting up this Safe Zone had distracted him from the possibility. One thing at a time. He couldn’t afford to be distracted when they weren’t even safe yet.

Nor should he be surprised that it was more monsters—no Otherworlders—who were his obstacle. Of course, not every monster wanted to kill them or harvest their souls for Sigils.

The Wraith Lord was living—or rather, undead—proof of that.

“Thanks,” Rory said. “That’s good to know. Though, still a bit daunting to consider there’s an entire group of monsters who’ll try to stop me.”

“I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I have no knowledge of such matters. I only know which creatures inhabit this locale.”

Rory blinked. “You know everyone that’s here?”

“Naturally. Knowing one’s land is the first step of ensuring survival, and even supremacy. My Wraiths have travelled far and wide to discover all they can.”

“That’s great. I’ve been wondering what sort of areas we should avoid.” Trish and Allen might have been able to tell them, given enough time, but they’d come across the source of all the information. “Can you tell me the important ones?”

The Wraith’s green eyes glittered in the dark. Back in the residential chamber of the bunker, a small argument had popped up about whether they should bring in their food. “Of course. From the ones my Wraiths have spotted, there are the Djinn in what is known as the town hall, the Imps who have settled in the main market, the Wilders residing in the park, and the Revenant Dragon whose minions have flooded the sewers.”

“Wait, what?”

“What has you befuddled?”

“Nothing’s got me befuddled. I’m just—did you say there was a Revenant Dragon in the sewers?”

“Correct. To be more accurate, its minions are in the sewers, but I supposed it itself cannot be far behind.” The Wraith lord grinned. “There are more. There is the Winged Raptors who haunt the distant hospital and the Stormscale Wyvern around the school.”

Rory didn’t respond. So many kinds of monsters who had significant presences here, and it hadn’t even been three full days yet. They had all settled in quite quickly.

“I can spare you some Wraith guards, if you are worried,” the Wraith said.

Rory forced himself to get over his surprise and reply. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

He meant it. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t have any misgivings. The way the Wraiths seemed to know where to go and look made it sound like they were all former living humans. Townspeople he had once known, perhaps. How else could they have intricate knowledge about the area?

Good thing the others weren’t near enough to deduce the same information, and that the Wraith Lord missed the twist in Rory’s expression.

“No need to sound so surprised,” the Wraith Lord said. “My ill will is boundless, but only towards those I care nothing for.”

Despite the gloom, Rory laughed a little. “Don’t tell me you care for me.”

“I care for our deal.”

That made more sense. Rory cared for the deal too, so far as it didn’t upend on his head, of course.

“Of course, I require payment for the information,” the Wraith Lord said.

“Of course. Name your price. Reasonable price, I should add.”

The glance of Rory’s new business associate grew sharper. “You are quite good at haggling.”

“Comes with the territory.”

“Very well. My price is that you help my Wraiths become… more.”

“More?”

“More than what they are. They have a tendency to learn, to adapt, to grow, though at a pace that suggests such things are beyond them. However, I have noticed the changes. They have potential, and I’d like for you to assist them with it. A Weaver should be able to craft Sigils that can further this purpose.”

“But what exactly is the purpose? Do you want them to become more intelligent and knowledgeable? Why, if I can ask?”

“You may ask. It is because their reduced state is only good for so much. They are little more than puppets in their current condition, and while they perform admirably as puppets, I am far from a puppet master. Greater intelligence brings with it the risk of greater autonomy, but I am willing to entertain that possibility should it arise.”

Rory felt vindicated that there seemed to be more to the Wraith Lord than just a monster hungry for more human souls to devour. If only he could show that to the others.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rory said. “Just need to figure out what Sigils I can actually make for them.”

“Do you not have any Sigil for learning what sort of Sigils you can create?”

Rory did, in a sense. His Sigil of Knowledge ought to be able reveal information about Sigils too. He was just going to figure out how exactly he could use it.

“I will look into it,” Rory promised. “And if that is all, then I will take your leave.”

The Wraith Lord looked to the left, where the others were about to come out of the residential chamber. “One last thing, mortal. You say you have met the Otherworlder faction?”

“Yes,” Rory said. “Don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word that you and your Wraiths and Ghouls are affiliated with me and so shouldn’t be hurt.”

“I believe you. However, I intended to warn you regarding your friends. They are not as united as they may seem. Rebel factions roam the lands, and you may come across them.”

“Are you saying they might be dangerous?”

“Possibly. I have not met them. But the idea of them being rebels means that whatever deals the regulars might have stored do not apply to them. Correct, yes?”

Rory nodded. The Wraith Lord had a point there.

They ended the discussion there. The others were beginning to come out, laden with more supplies than Rory thought was possible, enormous packs stuffed on their backs and shoulders. With a sly grin, the Wraith Lord edged back into the darkness, his aura fading into a faint glimmer barely noticeable in the gloom. Several people glared nastily at him as they passed by.

Rory noted some of the obvious supplies they had. There were a few guns and hockey sticks for weapons, canteens of water and packs of dried snacks. But the most interesting bits were the edge of a book and a laptop charger. These people intended to not just survive, but also thrive.

Despite the large packs, they didn’t have much trouble heading up the ladder. A couple of them climbed first, burdened with nothing but ropes, with which they hauled up the packs afterwards, and then the still-senseless Alves too.

Soon enough, Rory was the last one left. He turned to the stretch of dark wall where the Wraith Lord was supposed to be. It was too lightless to make out his figure, if he was even there.

“Fare you well,” came the dry whisper.

It chilled Rory’s spine, and he wasted no time getting up the ladder as fast as he could without looking undignified.

“I’ve heard you have taken possession of the palace?” the man who’d been at the back asked when Rory rose back onto the level of the main street. His son must have successfully calmed him down. “Sounds like quite the feat, but we will not be accompanying you there.”

“Where are you going to go then?” Rory asked.

“To the main Settlement at Mirrorend.”

Ah. Word must have gotten out while he’d been busy with the Wraith Lord. He was trying to determine how best he could explain to them how it probably wasn’t a great idea when the ancient couple came in and said the same thing.

“We won’t have anything to do with monster-lovers like yourself,” the wheelchair-bound old man said. “Good luck to you and your madness, but we’re not gonna be a part of it, you hear?”

“That’s right,” the old lady added. “We’ll find our own home.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Rory said, trying to remain calm and not let his frustration show. “From everything I’ve seen and know, the lands between Hillhard and Mirrorend are infested with monsters. You won’t make it a mile without meeting one. Even with Sigils, we decided it was too dangerous to travel all the way there.”

“Thanks for the info,” the single dad said. “But we’ve made our decision—Mirrorend.”

Rory sighed. “As you wish, then.”

He wondered what Alves was going to feel when he woke up.

“You’re going to have to wait,” Dez said. He had no sympathy in his voice. “We can’t spare any of our vehicles, but there might be some in the police station you can take.”

The old man looked like he wanted to curse or threaten them with his gun to take the truck by force, but the single father spoke over him.

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he said.

“It’s not like we have anywhere else to go,” the tall guy called Bo said.

The woman elbowed him, then smiled back at Rory. “We’d be grateful for a place to stay that isn’t a cramped bunker slowly starting to stink. Also, I don’t think we properly introduced ourselves yet. I’m April. This is my former boyfriend, Bo.” She nodded at the twins. “Those are our kids, Leanne and Leo. Say hi, guys.”

“Hi,” they both said at the same time.

“Former boyfriend,” Bo said. “And current husband.”

April and her kids laughed, which grew harder at Bo’s stony, unamused look. Rory found himself smiling. It was nice to have a wholesome family with them.

“We should get moving,” Dez said. “It’s going to be a cramped ride for a bit.”

Rory groaned. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

They headed out. True to his word, the Wraith Lord sent out a few Wraiths to watch over them. Rory appreciated it. They’d need advance warning as evening fell and everything turned dark.

As Dez had said, the ride to the police station was a congested affair. Rory was squeezed between the single father and his son, with Ned and Allen at the front seat. Alves was still unconscious between the two of them. Rory was marginally worried about the man, but he trusted Evelyn’s diagnosis.

Dez was driving the convertible with everyone else in it. The idea was that they’d keep the seditionists—as Trish was whisperingly referring to them—from taking a hold of any one vehicle.

There was definitely an old truck that the seditionists could use. While they prepared to leave with that, April charged into the police station and added her own supplies to the pile Ned, Trish, and Allen had gathered. Apparently, she was a police officer as well.

April, Ned, and Allen loaded the truck with a few guns and loads of ammunition, some walkie-talkies, canisters of kerosene, a few police uniforms, laptops and other electronic parts, some more power tools despite Dez’s protest that they already had some, and some medical supplies as well.

What caught Rory’s attention the most was a register that indicated the names of everyone in town. He might be able to use that at some point to check upon other potential survivors.

The seditionists had scrounged out some supplies. Rory once more tried to dissuade them from their path and promised they’d all do their best to make the palace a safe place, even going so far as to explain the precautions he’d already taken. They were adamant about leaving, however, and at least they were polite enough about parting. Rory wished them luck.

He was also pretty sure he was never seeing them again.

An idea stuck Rory as they were about to leave. He activated his Weaving outside and turned it on the whole police station, receiving only a single Sigil with the image of several shields stacked next to each other.

New Sigil!

You’ve obtained a Sigil of Security. You can now secure yourself against deleterious effects.

[Cerulean I] allows 1 instant, 1 major, and 2 minor defensive measures. Improves passively.

Stats

Type: Settlement

Rarity: Remarkable

Tier: Cerulean I [0%]

Efficiency: Extreme [82%]

Excellent. Just as he had hoped, Rory had received another Sigil to boost the Settlement. One step closer to achieving a safe Zone.

“Alright,” Rory said. “I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day. It’s time to head back home.”

In moments, they had all piled back into their vehicles, heading back towards the palace.