The rat farm was depleting.

  We’d swept the sewers clean over the past week, ambushing monster rats again and again. They were mostly gone by now. The few normal ones, smaller and sneakier, had started appearing along the edges, slowly reconquering the vacant territory. Sadly, they left us alone, either too smart to get caught or too disinterested to bother attacking.

  So we stopped going deeper the moment we started finding normal beasts again, and changed direction. First east tunnels, then west. South next. The count kept dropping, but Calr kept volunteering to run bait like some martyr with a death wish. Today was the north tunnel. The last unexplored line in the stone.

  “I’ll give it a quick look,” Calr said, already stretching his legs. “If they’re there, I’ll bring ‘em.”

  “Just don’t get bit,” I called after him.

  Calr grinned and vanished into the dark.

  I was already kneeling behind the trap setup, hands clamped on two thick metal chains, one in each palm. Already in battery mode. The barrels were set. The plates were rigged. And Kan stood ready in front of me, holding my spear like she was born with it.

  Only thirty seconds had passed when we heard it.

  The bell.

  Wild and fast, bouncing off the walls in sharp, chaotic chimes.

  And then...

  “TOO MANY!” Calr’s voice echoed, ragged and frantic.

  He tore around the bend like a comet, glowstone swinging wildly in one hand, brass bell rattling in the other. And behind him…

  Not five, not ten…

  At least fifty.

  A black wave of matted fur, yellow teeth, and gleaming red eyes surged after him like a living tide.

  Kan didn’t flinch. She planted her feet, lifted the spear, and narrowed her eyes.

  Calr was still a few meters from the choke point, and they were gaining on him.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  Then he activated the second spell from the Perfect State Soulbook: Dash. It wasn’t nearly as clean as Nakera’s demonstration a month ago, but it worked. A flash of light burst around his feet, and he blitzed forward, barely clearing the chokepoint.

  The first rat landed on the trigger plate.

  Click. Snap. CRACK.

  A spark of lightning erupted between the metal plates, catching the lead rat mid-lunge. Its fur singed, muscles locked. The others crashed into it, one, two, three, four, rats stacked on rats, each one twitching, seizing, smoking. Electricity jumped from one body to the next, arcing with every fresh contact.

  I held.

  Kan lunged, spear thrust forward, yanking bodies free from the kill zone with precise, brutal stabs. She moved like a machine: stab, drag, reset. Again and again and again.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  The lightning couldn’t reach the edges of the swarm. Rats poured around the trap, along the walls, over the corpses, and across the tops of barrels. Kan pivoted to intercept them.

  One latched onto her hip. She hissed and kicked it off. Another grazed her thigh. She bled, but didn’t fall.

  Calr scrambled upright and launched a Force Ball at a rat coming up behind her, knocking it off balance just long enough for Kan to crush it under her boot.

  My arms screamed.

  I could feel the drain in my soul, mana slipping like sand through fingers. My aura was expanding, pulsing wider than it had during any training session with Garo.

  Too bad this world didn’t do full mana recovery on level-up... not that kind of isekai.

  “Almost… out…” I muttered, trying to hold the current.

  But the spark guttered.

  Then died.

  I dropped the chains. The trap went silent.

  The rats hesitated, but didn’t stop. There were at least ten still moving, some dazed, some recovering, some untouched entirely.

  I pushed myself to my feet, dizzy from effort. My hands trembled. My aura was hollow. My soul ached.

  Kan was still swinging. Calr had already burned through his throwing knives and was down to his short sword.

  I spotted Kan’s backup blade near the wall, grabbed it, and staggered forward into the melee.

  We fought like cornered wolves. My sword strikes were wild, clumsy, but they hit. Calr wasn’t much better. Kan was the real MVP; she kicked a rat into the wall and stabbed another midair, showing off her rising kindred strength.

  When it ended, the sewer floor was slick with blood and scorched fur. The trap zone looked like a battlefield. Again.

  I dropped the short sword, chest heaving. Sparks still danced faintly across my fingers before sputtering out.

  Kan leaned against the wall, bruised and breathing hard. My spear—her spear for the moment- was snapped in half beside her.

  Calr flopped to the floor, arms spread, staring up at the moldy ceiling like he was reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment.

  I turned to him, voice ragged.

  “Calr. What the hell was that?”

  He winced.

  “I… may have found the magical disturbance.”

  Malik’s gang arrived ten minutes after the fight.

  We were too tired to lift a finger. I was the only one still standing, but only because I hadn’t figured out how to fall over yet.

  So we let them handle it.

  The boys got to work, collecting tails, dragging off corpses, and checking for cores. We didn’t even supervise. If they pocketed a core or two for themselves, so be it. They’d earned it.

  I tore a strip from one of the cleaner rags they’d brought and crouched beside Kan. Her wound wasn’t too deep, but it bled a lot.

  “This’ll sting,” I warned.

  “It already does,” she said flatly.

  I poured some of my rubbing alcohol over the wound, then I bandaged her thigh quickly, checking for anything unusual. I didn’t know what long-term exposure to Death affinity mana could do, so I didn’t want to take chances. “You’re seeing Vena later,” I said. “No arguing.”

  Kan nodded. I figured she wasn’t the type to cause trouble when being cared for.

  Unlike someone else... Calr was across the corridor, one of the boys fussing over his arm, which had a gash from shoulder to elbow.

  “It’s fine,” Calr grumbled. “No bones sticking out. It barely counts as a wound.”

  “Stop acting tough,” I said. “Get it cleaned. I heard Death magic can turn people undead.”

  We rested for a while, just long enough to breathe, hydrate, and pretend we weren’t all mildly in shock. The adrenaline crash hit me harder this time, probably because I was also completely out of mana.

  Then Kan stood.

  I blinked at her. “What are you doing?”

  “You said you found the source,” she said to Calr. “Where?”

  He nodded toward the north end of the tunnel, still dim and silent. “Barely fifty meters or so. It’s not far. I saw it just before I turned around.”

  Kan looked at me. “All the rats here are dead. If we’re gonna investigate, now’s the time.”

  I sighed, got to my feet, and grabbed half my spear and a glowstone from the pack Malik’s crew brought.

  “Let’s see what you stirred up.”

  The corridor curved just slightly as we walked, the air growing cooler, the silence heavier. Malik’s boys stayed behind, happily stacking corpses. We didn’t invite them to this part.

  We rounded the bend…

  And froze.

  A skeleton stood upright. It wasn’t white. It wasn’t even bone-colored. It was black… charred black, as if fire had scorched it into permanence.

  Tattered robes clung to its frame like moldy seaweed. Streaks of dried blood, or something darker, stained the wall behind it. It had been pinned to the wall by a dagger... jammed directly between two brittle ribs.

  A dagger made of bone.

  And in the pommel of that dagger, pulsing faintly with dark energy, sat a Death-aligned monster core, at least four times bigger than the one we found inside the rats.

  We approached slowly.

  One rat was there. Just one.

  It stood on its hind legs and chittered once before Kan skewered it cleanly with the backup sword. It collapsed without drama.

  Silence returned.

  Calr let out a slow whistle. “That’s gotta be it, right?”

  “Definitely,” Kan said. She crouched by the skeleton, not close enough to touch. The magic coming off it felt… rotten. Thick. Like an echo of intended malice was still lingering around the bones.

  “This is the Old Realm cult, it has to be?” Calr said.

  Kan didn’t answer right away. Then she nodded.

  “This has their stink all over it.”

  I gave the skeleton one last look. “Let’s go,” I said. “We report this to the guild.”

  We returned to the guild with grime on our boots and the scent of scorched fur still clinging to our clothes.

  Vena spotted us the moment we walked in. She practically sprinted across the floor and latched onto Calr by the arm. “You’re limping,” she said flatly.

  “I’m always limping,” he lied.

  “You weren’t this morning.”

  She dragged him to a side table, then turned on me and Kan. “You too. Sit.”

  “I didn’t get bit,” I said.

  “You still look half-dead,” Nakera called from a nearby bench, drink in hand. Kuru was beside her, watching with the calm detachment of a sniper on vacation.

  Vena’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll decide who needs healing.”

  I raised my hands in surrender and sat next to Calr. Kan was already rolling up her pant leg, revealing a bandaged gash I’d wrapped earlier.

  Vena tsked. “It’s starting to fester. Death mana lingers in wounds, since it doesn’t hurt that much, it tricks the body into ignoring it until it’s too late.”

  She began casting, glowing light wrapping around her hands as she worked. “Next time,” she added, “go to the temple. Or any licensed healer. Death-aligned injuries aren’t something you shrug off.”

  Calr flinched as the miracle sank into his arm. “Yes, ma’am.”

  While she worked, I slipped away to the front desk. Nada was still on shift, and her quill froze mid-stroke when she saw me.

  “Back already?” she asked.

  I dropped a pouch of rat tails on the counter.

  “Fifty rat tails. Same bounty as before, right?” I said.

  “Still one bronze each.” She counted quickly and handed me a stack of coins. “That's it?”

  I leaned in and dropped my voice. “We found something.”

  Her hand stilled.

  “In the sewer. Slum-side entrance, north tower. A black skeleton, pinned to the wall with a bone dagger. Death-core in the pommel. Rats turned into monsters. Lots of them.”

  Nada’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”

  “Kan says it smells like Old Realm cult activity.”

  Nada pushed back from the desk and snapped her fingers at a passing runner boy. “Go to the officers’ lounge. Get someone. Captain rank or higher. Now!”

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  He darted off.

  I stepped back, still clutching my pouch filled with bronze coins.

  By the time I returned to the others, Vena had finished with Calr and Kan. Nakera was now lounging in a chair beside them, her hair brown once again, smirking in my direction.

  “You should’ve come with us,” she said. “Our noble escort didn’t involve crawling through sludge or getting mauled by undead vermin.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I shot back.

  “I don’t know, sitting in a carriage with cushions and snacks was pretty thrilling.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure if I’ll make it to Paladin if all my missions end up like that one,” Vena huffed.

  “Hey, it was your first mission with us,” argued Nakera. “We didn’t want to throw you into the deep end.”

  Before she could answer, the guild doors opened wide.

  The guild hall didn’t go quiet all at once, but it shifted. A tension settled in the air. Heads turned. Voices dipped. Even the rowdiest freelancers straightened up.

  Three women stepped through the main doors like they owned the place.

  “Hey, look,” Nakera murmured, nudging me with her elbow. “That’s Marina.”

  She pointed to the woman in the lead.

  Marina was tall. Commandingly tall. Her skin had a smooth, healthy glow. Her hair was pure cyan, styled in long waves that shimmered under the hall’s enchanted ceiling lights, a color that practically screamed Soulit nobility. Her clothes didn’t shy away from attention either: a deep blue sleeveless coat with silver piping hung open over a fitted corset top that plunged in the front, revealing just enough to raise eyebrows. Her pants were high-waisted and neatly tucked into polished high-heeled boots. she had no weapon on her belt, but somehow no one questioned if she was dangerous.

  “How about the others?” I whispered back.

  Nakera nodded at the woman floating half a step behind. “The one not walking? That’s Captain Yoka. She’s General Kiddu’s sister.”

  She didn’t walk; her body hovered at a 45-degree angle, keeping her head the same height as Marina's. Her feet never touched the floor, her cloak trailing behind like smoke. Pale, almost colorless skin contrasted sharply with her outfit: a matte black bodysuit that looked airbrushed on, hugging muscle and curve alike. She had a long-bladed sword, almost like a katana; however, it felt more decorative than practical, especially with how she was showcasing her magical might through effortless flight. Her hair was dirty blond, whipped as if blown by an unseen wind. Her eyes were softer, with a mischievous smile like some kind of prankster.

  “And the short one?” I asked.

  “That’s Ensign Sashka,” answered Nakera.

  “My older sister,” added Kan.

  The girl at the rear was the smallest of the three, short and narrow-shouldered, with hair so blonde it was almost white. But there was nothing fragile about her. Her stance was square, her movements deliberate. She wore a sharp gray jacket cut like a military uniform over simple black trousers, her boots clean and her belt clipped with pouches as well as knives. She had the kind of presence that made you think she could pin you to a wall with a look.

  She didn’t stare like Yoka. She watched.

  “Is she strong?” I asked.

  Kan gave a tight nod. “Very. Better than me in everything.”

  “Yeah,” added Nakera. “She’s better at stealth than me, and I can turn invisible.”

  We watched in silence as the trio made their way toward Nada, who was now standing ramrod straight behind the desk, her ink-stained hands shaking ever so slightly as she held out our report.

  Marina reached for it without breaking stride, and just like that, our rat hunt had become a matter of guild security.

  We stayed by Vena’s table, pretending not to watch the front desk.

  We did a terrible job of it, though.

  Marina scanned the report Nada had written. Her cyan brows lifted slightly. Then she smiled. And said something to the scribe.

  Nada blushed. Despite her dark skin, the flush was obvious. After a few exchanges of words we couldn’t hear, Nada subtly pointed in our direction.

  Marina didn’t turn. She just raised her hand and gave a short gesture.

  Captain Yoka and Ensign Sashka turned and made their way toward us.

  Kan rose to her feet but didn’t speak. She gave Sashka a short, silent nod. Her sister nodded back, the barest motion. Apparently, that counted as affection in their family.

  Yoka offered a warm smile as she floated to a stop in front of us. Her voice was soft, like velvet laced with calm wind.

  “You three found the disturbance site?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “In the sewers. Slum entrance.” I responded. Apparently, I found myself being the mouthpiece and de facto leader of our trio.

  “Interesting choice.” She tilted her head, still hovering effortlessly. “Why that one, and not the guild-side entrance?”

  I glanced at the others. “The guild-side entrance sees more traffic. We figured it had already been picked clean. We were just after the rat tail bounty.”

  Yoka’s smile widened. “Smart thinking. I like that.”

  I smiled back at her, completely disarmed by her praise.

  “And what exactly did you encounter down there?” Yoka asked.

  “Only rats,” I shrugged. “However, they turned into death-aligned monsters. We were farming their tails and cores for a while, until we found the disturbance.”

  “And could you describe it, please?” she politely ordered.

  “Let’s see. There’s a skeleton, fully black and picked clean to the bone, no rotted meat or clothes in sight. He was stabbed by a bone dagger with a death core in the pommel,” I described, trying not to forget any important detail.

  “Where exactly did you find it? Precise location?” Yoka asked.

  “After the spiral stair,” I said. “To the north, you’ll find a junction with barrels and burn marks; that was our ambush point; we used to farm the rats. The corpse is about fifty meters past that, on your first left turn.”

  Yoka nodded. “We’ll take a look. Thank you.”

  She turned gracefully, still floating a full handspan off the ground, and drifted back toward the exit.

  Sashka followed, striding behind her to match her superior’s speed.

  On the other side of the room, Nada, her professional mask now fully in place, waved Marina toward a side room behind the desk. The commander swept in without a word, her coat swaying like a cape behind her. Nada followed with a thick stack of paper.

  I sat back down beside Vena, who decided to check Kan’s wound for a second time, and waited.

  We didn’t do much, just murmurs among our group. A few curious freelancers tried to approach, but Nakera waved them off with a glare. Nearly an hour had passed when Yoka and Sashka returned.

  Their faces were different now; still calm and composed, but with a tautness beneath the surface.

  Yoka didn’t say a word at first. She stopped in front of me, looked at Nakera, then back at me.

  “Alice. Nakera. You’re coming with us.”

  I stood. So did Nakera, her casual smirk gone.

  We followed them past the guild hall proper, toward an office room behind the main desk.

  the space wasn't huge, but it was nice: warm lights, velvet-backed chairs, with a wide desk covered in maps and ink-stained ledgers. Marina stood behind it, flipping through one of the thicker books with mild surprise.

  “I had no idea receptionists kept this much detail on each mission,” she said aloud, thumbing a page.

  Nada, standing proudly at her side, straightened like a cadet before inspection. “That was my initiative, ma’am. Since I can write fast with my ink magic, I started asking adventurers to summarize where they hunted and whether anything unusual happened. You can see that only the sewer in the guild district was used by freelancers in the last year.”

  Marina lifted a brow. “I see.”

  Nada turned slightly red and picked up a second ledger. “This one’s secondhand, compiled from whatever I could gather on my days off. It’s not as complete, but I try to cover everything the other receptionists might’ve missed. It says the same thing.”

  Marina nodded slowly, flipping a page. “You’ve done more than expected. Come see me tomorrow, I want to put your talents to better use.”

  Nada’s eyes widened, and her hands twitched like she might salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Across the room, Yoka finally settled onto the ground, no longer floating. She approached the desk and pulled something from her coat: the bone dagger.

  “The disturbance has been destroyed,” she said, voice still soft, still oddly kind as she held the artifact out.

  Marina accepted the weapon, turned it over once, and sighed. “We need to investigate this properly. If it's the Old Realm… I want confirmation.”

  Yoka nodded. “Agreed. I suggest we gather information quietly. We can’t risk tipping them off.”

  She turned her gaze to Nakera and gave a faint smirk. “This one’s one of our stealthiest assets not currently entangled in the other problem.” Her emphasis hinted at something beyond our clearance.

  “Ah, right.” Marina looked toward Sashka. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Sashka nodded. “I will be absent for at least two months.”

  Marina tapped the dagger against her palm thoughtfully. Then she looked at Nakera and me. “We’ll keep this quiet. Low-profile. I want more information before we act.”

  I hesitated, then raised a hand slightly. “I don’t know much about information gathering, but… I’d like to suggest something.”

  Marina gave me a polite nod. “Go ahead.”

  “Vena,” I said. “She’s been healing in the slums for the last month. And the people love clerics. They’ll be more open with her. And Calr... he’s a former street rat. Knows the gang networks. The kids already trust him.”

  Yoka glanced at Marina. Then nodded slowly. “That could work.”

  Marina looked between us, considering. “Have them report to you, Nakera. You’re in charge.”

  Nakera grinned. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Yoka handed her a folded map. “We marked the disturbance site. Start near there and keep it quiet. Ask the right people.”

  Sashka crossed her arms, eyeing Kan’s direction through the wall. “If this is Old Realm… don’t engage. Just track and report.”

  “Understood,” Nakera said.

  I nodded beside her, pulse picking up. I hadn’t signed up for espionage, but I can’t back out now.

  Marina turned back toward the desk, then paused.

  “I almost forgot. Alice, right?”

  I looked up.

  She tossed something at me.

  I caught it with both hands. A leather coin pouch.

  “That’s your reward,” she said, “five silver. The guild bounty for identifying the disturbance.”

  I blinked. “I… thank you.”

  She gave a faint smile. “Good work.”

  We took the farthest table in the lounge. Kan slumped in her seat, exhausted but stubbornly upright. Calr kept messing with his bandaged arm, and Vena was slapping his hand away from it. I sipped the fruity, coffee fruit tea, which I still refuse to call coffee.

  “Alright,” Nakera began, “now that the mission’s approved, we need to plan how we gather information.”

  She tapped the parchment with a finger. “The disturbance site is being kept quiet for now. We want to know if there’s more activity brewing: weird new symbols tagged on the walls, disappearances, anything cult-related.”

  We all leaned in.

  “We split up. Calr, you go solo. Talk to your old gang contacts. Just ask around, okay! No heroics.”

  “For the last time, I was never in a gang. I just… grew up next to them. Big difference.”

  “But you’re connected,” she said. “Start casual. Ask around. If you need backup, take Kan or Alice with you.”

  “Preferably Kan,” he muttered.

  “I heard that,” I said.

  “Vena,” Nakera turned, “you go with Kuru. Make your temple rounds. Act like you’re doing routine checkups on the worst of your healed cases from the last month. Keep it casual. Report anything strange.”

  Vena tilted her head. “But how will I know if something is strange? I’m a cleric, not a Justicar.”

  Nakera and Kuru exchanged a glance. One of those glances.

  Kuru nodded. “I’ve never said this aloud in a mission brief, but... most people know I’m bloodline-born. What they don’t know is my affinity.”

  I straightened. “You’re not Kindred?”

  She smirked. “Nope. Elemental Bloodline: Psychic affinity.”

  That made me blink. “Seriously?”

  She nodded once. “My innate ability is danger sense. I can detect harmful intent directed toward me. It helps in battle, but it’s also useful for navigating shady situations. Dodging lies as well as attacks.”

  My eyes widened. “That’s why you two keep exchanging looks when you meet someone new!”

  Nakera blinked. “You caught that?”

  Kuru gave a small smile. “If I nod, it means they’re clean. If I shake my head…” She didn’t finish the sentence.

  “So if Kuru escorts me,” Vena said slowly, “I’m the cover. And she's the spotter.”

  “And I,” Nakera said, “investigate anyone who triggers Kuru’s alarms.”

  It made perfect sense. Too much sense.

  “What about me?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  Nakera hesitated. “You don’t have experience with field info gathering yet. I don’t feel comfortable sending you out cold.”

  I sighed. “Fair. But give me your notes, maybe I maybe able to spot something the rest of you miss.”

  Nakera smiled. “That’s actually a good idea.”

  Kuru stood up. “Calr, Vena, we’ll meet again tomorrow for coordination?”

  “Sure,” Calr said, stretching.

  “Lady’s Will,” Vena confirmed.

  “Before we go,” I said, patting my bag. “Let’s divvy up the spoils. I’ve been holding onto everything since our first rat run.”

  I pulled out four coin pouches and set them on the table one by one.

  “This first one’s from day one. Four silver,” I said. “These two,” I tapped the next two, “are from the week of rat farming. Four silver and thirty bronze each. The last one is the bounty for finding the magical disturbance. Five silver.”

  Nakera stared. “You made eighteen silver. In one week. Fighting rats.”

  I grinned. “You should’ve come with us instead of babysitting noblemen.”

  “How much did you make from that mission?” Calr asked.

  “One silver,” she muttered.

  I couldn’t help myself. I grinned harder. “See? Sewer goblins for the win.”

  Nakera glared, but didn’t argue.

  “What are you doing with all that money?” she asked.

  “Buying another spear,” I said. “Again.”

  Kan nodded. “And I need a Soulbook. Something that lets me do more in a fight.”

  Calr shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

  I rearranged the coins: six silver apiece. A three-way split. Clean and fair. I passed a pouch to Kan and another to Calr.

  “Alright,” I said, standing up. “Kan. Let’s go see Sara. And pick a book for you.”

  Sara’s Soulbook shop was quieter than usual when we arrived. Sara was hunched over a desk near the back, squinting through a magnifying glass at a mess of strange, looping patterns drawn across parchment.

  It took her a couple of minutes to notice us.

  “Alice!” she beamed, setting the lens down with exaggerated care. “And you brought a friend. Let me guess, Soulbook shopping?”

  “Exactly that,” I smiled. “Why else would we be here?”

  Kan gave a short nod. “I need something to round out my fighting style.”

  “Well, you came to the right place.” Sara dusted her hands and walked over.

  “Well, first she needs an affinity test,” I suggested.

  She waved us toward the side room, where the affinity kits were laid out beneath a wall of book tomes. She passed me the thick reference binder with the index of available books and turned to Kan with a fresh sheet of testing paper and a needle.

  “A small drop of blood on the center of the paper,” she instructed.

  Kan pricked her thumb with a wince and let a droplet fall.

  The moment it touched the circle, the drop shimmered, twisted, and then burst outward into curling letters.

  Kan Karda

  Her name bloomed in neat Common script, centered on the page. A heartbeat later, color spread across the testing sheet: the bottom edge turned a deep, clay brown, and the left margin flushed red.

  Sara leaned in, nodding. “Earth and Fire. That’s a solid pairing, with Earth as the dominant affinity, though. Congratulations.”

  Kan blinked. “Is that… good?”

  “Very,” I said, flipping open the index book. “Could make lava or metal or even sand.”

  We sat on the benches, paging through the thick tome together. Sara leaned against the counter nearby, giving us space but watching curiously.

  “Okay,” I muttered, pointing at a few entries. “Earth Shield: a safe choice. Lava Lance: That sounds dangerous. Fireball. That’s a classic. Create Charcoal? That feels more like an economy-tier spell than a combat-ready one.”

  Kan snorted. “Yeah, not for me.”

  I kept flipping. “Here, Earth Manipulation and Fire Control. These are dynamic types, probably better in the long run if you’re going to be training them a lot. But they take a lot of finesse.”

  “I don’t mind that,” Kan said. “But I’d like something that scales with my kindred strength, too. Something I can actually do without changing my fighting style.”

  “Hmm…” I tapped a later page. “Metal Chains Manipulation. Requires both Earth and Fire affinity. It doesn’t create the chains, but having one on hand could be devastating.”

  Kan leaned closer. “Chains, huh?”

  “You already use a rope. This is like that, but deadlier. It scales with your kindred strength growth since you could carry heavier chains whenever you get stronger.”

  “I understand the Earth affinity, but why does it need Fire?”

  “I can answer that,” Sara chimed in. “The book allows you to use only chains made of metal. It’s made out of the soul of a metal golem that was located in the abandoned forge of Nazaklam, and metal magic often comes from the combination of Earth and Fire.”

  Kan looked thoughtful.

  I didn’t say it out loud, but it reminded me of a certain anime. Saints, Zodiac signs, shiny armor. Magic chains flung around with dramatic gestures. I started humming the opening song.

  “I’ll take that one,” Kan said finally.

  Sara nodded and disappeared into the back room. A minute later, she returned with a sleek, metal-bound Soulbook. The cover was etched with looping chains, inlaid with tiny sparks of copper and iron.

  Kan pricked her thumb again and pressed the blood to a blank page. The Soulbook glowed faintly, and her name etched itself in silver script.

  “Connection complete,” Sara said, satisfied. “Welcome to the ranks of the Chainbound.”

  Kan exhaled slowly. She raised one hand toward the silver pendant around her neck. It trembled… then floated.

  “This is awesome,” I whispered.

  “After a week of adjustment, you should be able to control a chain whip easily,” Sara said.

  “You’ll need to train your aura too,” I added. “But once you do, you’ll be terrifying.”

  Kan smiled, just a little.

  Funny how fighting monsters could lead to new adventures, a few mysteries, and somehow new friends.