[Outer World]

  Flaring: The basic act of engulfing one's body in Anima, used for empowering and replenishing.

  Coating: Derived by Flaring, it precisely applies Anima to one’s body part or object.

  Masking: Simply hiding one's Anima from untrained senses or those without Eye-Coating. However, it prohibits the usage of Anima.

  Concealing: Derived by Masking it camouflages one’s Anima to other users, despite the usage of Coating. Allows users to use Anima.

  ***

  Standing on a snowy ledge, Lodio looked down at the city below.

  Kei City.

  It stretched out: half-timbered buildings pressed together, their roofs white with snow. Oil street lamps glowed with a smudged orange along the main cobblestone roads. Stone walls enclosed everything, built centuries ago by people. From up here, Lodio could see the lack of people.

  The wind blew at their hoods. Insistent. For the few hours they’d been lumbering down the mountain, the wind had become the enemy—more than Pieck. It found every gap in their clothes, biting. Lodio’s cheeks burned.

  Numb.

  Everything felt numb: his fingers, ankles, and face. Even if he twitched his nose, he couldn’t feel it.

  “Y-you seriously d-don't understand!”

  Her, again, always talking.

  “Save your breath,” Lodio said, voice low.

  “Big Man asked you for this, right? Honey, that doughy bastard is no good—“ She stopped herself.

  “I’m doing this for Gilds…” Lodio’s voice wavered.

  Open [Currency].

  [Currency]

  - Gilds (?): 41,237

  - Gilds are the currency of the tower. Reaching [Floor 20], you could withdraw Gilds to use in the Outer World.

  Months of working, fighting, and hunting for this. More than he could ever dream of. This felt empty. Why had he come to the Tower? To fight? Get rich? Rich, he is. All that was left for him to fight. Fight, fight, fi—

  “Heya, Lodi?” Juless’s voice interrupted him. “Ya fine?”

  Lodio blinked. “Yes…” He lied.

  Snow kept falling.

  “You don't look ‘fine,’” Charlyne added.

  The snow bit their clothed ankles, trying to intrude in the gaps. But they continued to trudge.

  As they reached toward the city, Sophina continued to thrash like a fish. “You know my men will be waiting, right?! Unhand me, and I’ll promise that I’ll let them not harm you." She paused. “Honey, you love Gilds, right?! I have plenty of that! How much we talking?!” She rasped.

  Lodio ignored her.

  He, carrying a woman on his shoulder, lumbering through the snow toward a city he doesn’t care about. A wealth he achieved—a wealth that didn’t satisfy the holes in his heart. How long has it been since he felt the pump through his veins? How long has it been since he felt his sword ache? How long has it been since the Tower? Perhaps, buried in his mind, he wanted to go back.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The Tower gave him everything: fighting, Gilds, and something to keep his mind off his father.

  Father… what are you doing?

  The question circled again. Always had. A question nobody had the answer to. Lodio could still see that blurry image: silver plate earrings glinting under the hanging sun, his all-tongue smile, and his braided hair that reached his hips, a few strands of gray now, probably.

  But knowing his father, it would still be that luscious curly black hair that always seemed to shine in the sun.

  “I have an authentic Moonberry!”

  Those words snapped his mind out of it.

  “It increases your Anima reserves! I have three, unhand me, and I’ll give it to you!”

  Juless raised one eyebrow. “Moonberry? Ya have three?” She glanced at her sister, then back at Sophina. “How convenient… there’s three of us… you’re lying through your teeth, aren’t ya?”

  Sophina shook her head violently against Lodio’s back. “No! I intended to not lie, remember!?”

  Scoffing, Charlyne said: “Tch, when did you say that?”

  “Honey, I said it earlier!” Sophina rasped.

  “We don’t need it,” Juless said.

  Defeated, Sophina stopped thrashing. Like wet parchment, she hung limp on Lodio’s shoulder, staring at the snow. Her lips curled into a pout.

  When they entered Kei City, the wind died, blocked by the stone walls and buildings. But what replaced the air was scent: musky bodies, horse shit, and smoke. Various gazes landed on them, pinning them like insects against a wall.

  A group of men near a tavern entrance stopped talking. Their heads turned in sync. Eyes tracked Lodio, the woman on his shoulder, and the two sisters.

  “Oi, isn’t that Sophina?”

  One of them pointed: a scarred man with a square jaw. His finger stayed pointed at them as they passed.

  Sophina lifted her head and looked around. Her eyes drifted around the streets. Waiting for her men.

  No one came.

  Instead, more men stared. Pointed. Murmured. A gnarly bunch: scarred faces, missing teeth, and some wore knitted caps.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  The inevitable.

  Finally, they stood before a grimy stone building. Lodio knocked on the cold steel door.

  A slit opened, revealing two hooded eyes in the gap. Their eyes reflected the dim light. They didn’t say anything. Their eyes just narrowed as if assessing Lodio and the team.

  “We have captured the Pieck,” Lodio answered, his voice flat.

  Chains rattled inside. Bolts slid. The door opened fully, revealing a tall man with a shaved head. He gestured them inside without a word.

  Inside was a stark difference: warmth from a crackling fire, the smell of sizzling meat, and the occasional loud murmur. People sat at wooden tables, cards in their hands, and piles of Gilds on the lacquer surfaces.

  “Up there, sir.” The man pointed at the stairwell shoved in the corner.

  Lodio nodded and headed up. Each step creaked under his weight. On his shoulder, he could feel Sophina’s quickening heartbeat.

  At the top, a wooden door stood, its bronze knob glinting.

  They stopped for a moment.

  Silence.

  Creak.

  There he was… Big Man: freakishly tall, morbidly fat, and smoking a wooden pipe. He sat in a massive chair that looked too small for him. It seemed to beg for help. From intruding sunlight from a small window, his iron rings glinted on his pudgy fingers.

  “Phut, phut, phut!” The sound came from his throat. His free hand patted his belly. “There you are.” He took a drag of his pipe, held it there, and then blew out perfect smoke circles. “Pieck Sophina… how wonderful to see you again!”

  Ding!

  [Goal: Bring Sophina Pieck back to Big Man alive (1/1)]

  Ding!

  [Awarded [?17,000]]

  “I’ll take it from here.” Big Man gestured at the door with his chin. “Farewell.”

  As they turned to leave, they stopped.

  Dead silence.

  “Valerio Diosi."

  Lodio’s eyes narrowed. His pupils were pinpricked. Cold sweat trailed down, welled on his chin, then splattered across the lacquer-finished floor. That man. It made his heart pump.

  “Lodio!”

  His body moved before he could think.

  The blade pressed against Big Man’s throat. Steel reflected Lodio’s narrowed eyes back at him. Pink Anima vined upward.

  “Where is he.” Not a question but a demand.

  “Phut, phut, phut!” That cackle erupted from his throat. “You dare press your blade against me?” His eyes—small in his fat face—pinned on Lodio. “You’re all excuses… except you,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Honey, he’s associated with him!” Sophina suddenly shouted. She wiggled around like a fish.

  “Juless… undo your strings. Charlyne. Hold her hostage,” Lodio instructed as he pressed the blade deeper.

  A low rumble escaped Big Man’s throat, veins surging like worms under skin. “Phut. Phut. Phut.” Not a laugh. Not a chuckle. Not a cackle. A warning—a line that was crossed—just like Lodio will cross the line between life and death.

  “Bring Your Own Bombs.”

  ”UNFLARE YOUR ANIMA!” Sophina screamed. Her eyes went wide.

  Too late.

  Lodio’s Anima flamed like someone had poured oil on it. It screamed, hissed, screeched, and burned bright. Then the smell: burning rubber, just like the mansion on the previous floors.

  A flash of white.

  KRABOOM!