The more things changed, the more they remained the same. Dallion had seen dozens of different faces of Nerosal. The city had dazzled him with its size, showing him a world in which thousands of awakened lived among the non-awakened. It had been in this place that he had learned of awakened professions, guilds, and other organizations. Here, he had found knowledge, friends, love, but also pain and betrayal.

Seeing the emblem of an imperial house on his vest, the gate guards fell to their knees. The sounds of horns filled the air, indicating the visit of an important guest. It wouldn’t be long before the lord mayor—or a representative—rushed to the scene. It was annoying, but something Dallion had to put up with. After all, he was about to claim segments of the city as his own.

“Make way for the imperial envoy!” Yells were heard further within the city.

Just great, Dallion sighed. Maybe it would have been better if he had come here incognito after all.

A figure dressed in black emerged on the threshold—the overseer he had come to know well.

“I humbly greet you back to your city, Hero of Nerosal,” she said with a slight bow. Her tone was very serious, but Dallion could sense the humor emanating from her.

“Very funny,” he whispered as he passed by.

“I thought you’d appreciate it,” she replied. “I’m here to escort you to the lord mayor’s palace.”

“Part of the etiquette?”

In the back of Dallion’s mind, a voice whispered that he didn’t have to go through this. He was a domain ruler and count of House Elazni. The local noble was inferior to him both in rank and power, not to mention awakening level. If Dallion wanted, he could ignore him without any consequences.

“It’s expected,” the overseer said. “Though not obligatory.”

Only expected, he thought.

“I think—”

You should talk to him, Harp said from within his domain.

Harp? Dallion asked. Lately, it was rare for her to initiate a conversation on her own.

You’re not strong enough to be rude. You’re never strong enough to be rude…

“—I’ll go see the old guild master,” Dallion said, changing his initial decision. “It’s been a while, after all.”

Harp, he added. Once this is over, we’ll have a talk.

The harpsisword guardian didn’t respond.

I mean it, Harp.

The streets were crowded to the brim. Everyone who could had climbed to the roofs of buildings, while the rest packed on either side of the street. Somehow the whole event reminded Dallion of the time he had been sent to the first noble job, along with Gloria and Veil. Seemingly a lifetime away, he had suffered the heat and stares, dressed in an outfit of metal threads. Now he was walking to the palace in simple hunter’s attire. Rather, most of it was simple; his shirt, for one, was made entirely of diamond threads.

Guards stood among the crowd, in purely ornamental fashion. Everyone knew better than to attack a member of an imperial house. Even if they thought they had the strength to take on Dallion himself, the emperor had destroyed cities for less. And even if that threat was not enough, Nerosal’s overseer was a few steps away, able to react to any potential threat.

“You haven’t changed the arena,” Dallion noted. “I thought after last time you’d add a few statues of the Moons here and there.”

“The bishop decided it would be over the top. It’s the inside that went through a lot of changes.”

“Typical of him. I’ll have to remember to say hi after my visit.”

“That would be difficult. Cleric was called to the archbishop a few days ago. Until he returns, the city remains without a bishop.”

An alarming development. The archbishop didn’t do anything on a whim.

Reaching the palace took almost an hour. It would have been a lot faster under normal circumstances, but Dallion had decided to play his part and walked at an extremely slow pace, so that everyone could get a good look at him. Gradually, the crowds started to thin until they disappeared altogether. The guards remained. It seemed that even after all this time, the new lord mayor wasn’t able to find awakened he trusted to make his personal guards. What little there had been was all gone, and he had been forced to rely on the overseer. Not the worst choice, considering the alternative.

The entrance hall shared characteristics of Archduke Lanitol’s palace. Of course, it was a lot smaller and simpler in design. Several servants stood ready, bowing low as Dallion approached. Their scant numbers made the whole structure feel like an empty shell… no, rather, it felt like a prison in which a minor noble had been forced to stay.

Palace, Dallion said, using his empathy skill. Should I be worried about anything?

Boredom, the area guardian replied. There are twenty-three people here, and only three are remotely powerful.

Three?

The count got married.

I’ll keep that in mind.

Dallion was taken through a vast hallway, up a flight of stairs, and straight into the throne room. Two soldiers guarded the door, their awakening levels in the low forties. Normally, this would be the point at which the overseer would stop, leaving him to proceed alone. This time, she did no such thing.

“Announcing Count Dallion Elazni,” one of the guards said loudly, as both of them pushed both sides of the hall’s doors open with their backs. “Hero of Nerosal, Battlemage of the Mage Academy, and potential heir of House Elazni.”

You still missed my hunter title, Dallion grumbled internally.

Walking on, Dallion entered a hall of silver and gold that—compared to the opulence he’d become used to in the imperial capital—seemed like a well-kept dump. Someone had spent a lot of effort attempting to polish up the room in an attempt to make it more noble-like. Not a terrible job, everything considered, but only if a person had no basis for comparison.

The former Icepicker guild master was seated on a small throne. Despite all attempts, his expression was tired and neither his pretense nor his dark skin was able to hide that from Dallion’s perception trait. A second empty throne stood nearby, probably belonging to his wife. Curious that she was absent for the occasion.

“Count Lanitol,” Dallion said, acknowledging the man’s status.

“Count Elazni,” the other said in response. “Overseer, give us some privacy.”

As the order was uttered, a barrier of reality formed along the floors and wall. From here on, only the people within the throne room would be able to hear and see the conversation.

“Now that we’re done with the bullshit, what do you want?”

“Harsh, guild master.” Dallion smiled.

“I know you well enough, Dal. You might be an imperial, but you still don’t want to waste time on nonsense., Neither do I. So, what is it?”

“The arena.”

“You want the arena?” The man blinked. “After destroying it?”

“The destruction wasn’t one-sided.”

“What do you want it for? Don’t tell me you’re restoring the festival.”

“You have to admit, it was one of the better things about the countess’s reign.”

“Maybe at one point, but not anymore. There are too many bad memories associated with it.”

“Let me rephrase that. I want to take the arena and move it to my own settlement.”

The former guild master started coughing as if he’d choked on his own saliva.

“Take the entire structure?”

“You said there are a lot of bad memories associated with it.”

“You can’t just…” the man began, but his words quickly trailed off. “Well, maybe you can. After some of the things you’ve pulled… Why not?” He waved his hand in utter disinterest. “Take it. Take this palace while you’re at it. Place is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Sadly, I don’t need a prison.” Dallion could sympathize. “Along with that, I’d also like the city’s furies, unless they want to remain here, of course.”

Count Lanitol’s eyes widened. He leaned forward, a spark of interest emanating from him.

“You’re planning your move, aren’t you?”

“Yes. The emperor has given me space and I intend to fill it with what I think is best.” Dallion paused for a moment. “If you were still my guild master, I would have taken you as well, but as things stand, you’ll have to wait for a while longer.”

“Always the optimist. I remember telling myself it was a mistake letting you go at the time. Even after all your messes, I still considered you having what it took to make a guild lieutenant. Nice to see that I wasn’t wrong.”

“Thank you.”

“You can take the furies. As for the arena, you’ll have to take it up with the Order. They pretend that they let me do everything I want, but the moment I set a toe outside their invisible bonds, they are quick to remind me.”

“I’ll deal with them.”

“I hope so, for your sake. Anything else?”

“I want the Icepickers. And the Gremlin’s Timepiece.”

The man’s expression didn’t change. The lack of surprise suggested that he had expected something of the sort. If the bouquet of emotions emanating from was any indication, he was even pleased with the request.

“The Icepickers and Hannah,” Count Lanitol repeated. “I’m fairly sure the Icepickers will go with you. Hannah, though. She might be difficult to convince.”

“That’s my problem. I’m asking you for old time’s sake. And also because of the guardians. Otherwise, it’ll be like ripping them from their home.”

You’re making things up, aren’t you? Vihrogon asked. There’s no such thing.

Maybe not. Let’s give the old guild master this. He’s been getting a raw deal ever since he was sent to Nerosal.

“The arena with its furies, the inn with the Icepickers. Anything else?”

“I’d think that’s plenty.”

“It is, but why stop here? How about Eury’s workshop? It won’t be difficult to buy it, considering your present funds.”

The place where Dallion first met the gorgon. There was no denying that they’d had a lot of pleasant moments there together. Taking it would indeed have been a nice touch, but it came with too much nostalgia for Dallion’s liking. He didn’t need old memories to remind him of joy, at least not yet. There would be plenty more to come in the near future.

“That’s enough.”

“In that case, I vow by the Moons that you can have what you’ve requested. With my blessing, if that means anything.”

“It does. Thank you, guild master.”

“Nah.” Count Lanitol looked away. “You earned that by yourself. Let’s just hope you end up in a better cage than I did.”

Not bad advice as far as warnings went, but nothing Dallion hadn’t considered so far. For a split second, he considered improving the palace a bit in appreciation, but that would undoubtedly cause issues. Even if he were to relinquish power to the area, he’d never be able to erase the doubt whether the palace wasn’t his domain. It was better, and safer, to leave things as they were. Maybe when he’d established a proper domain of his own, he could consider making the former guildmaster a vassal.

“My apologies,” Dallion said, remembering something all of a sudden.”There’s one other thing I’d like to ask.”

“There always is.”

“The world items. Are any of them still here?”

“The swords? Everything of value was moved to the archduke’s treasury. I’ve no idea what happened during the provincial war, but unless they were stolen, they should be there.”

“Good to know.”

Dallion felt a grain of disappointment. Lanitol wasn’t a place he was eager to visit again. Having a few more aura swords would have been useful, but not vital. He had achieved what he’d come here for. Now all that remained was to inform the Icepickers and convince Hannah to move with him. The innkeeper was known to be stubborn, but given that Adzorg would eventually be sent to Sandstorm village, there was no reason for her not to agree to go there. In the end, it was all a matter of persuasion.