---
The Alehouse of Nareth'Qel was no longer a place that resembled living space.
It had become a statement.
A statement written in broken furniture, spilled drink, and bodies that had stopped reacting to pain only because they no longer had the strength to.
The air inside felt thick—like it had absorbed too many screams and decided not to release them back into the world.
---
Near the center of the ruined hall, Doro's group shifted slightly.
One of them dragged a hostage forward by the collar.
Another kicked aside a broken stool as if clearing space for amusement.
And the third—Doro's older brother—walked slowly, pulling someone behind him by the arm.
---
Karkos.
Barely conscious.
His body sagged unevenly, bruised from repeated impact. One side of his face was swollen, his lips split, and his knees dragged weakly against the floor.
He tried to stand once.
Failed.
So he was pulled again.
Like an object that had forgotten it was once human.
---
Imuis' expression changed immediately.
Nocth's eyes narrowed.
Something inside his gaze shifted—subtle at first, then heavier.
Not rage yet.
But recognition of violation.
---
Nocth spoke first.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
"…Seriously."
A pause.
His eyes stayed fixed on Karkos.
"…Just how petty do you have to be…"
His gaze slowly lifted toward Doro's group.
"…to take out your resentment toward me on a defenseless civilian?"
---
There was no rise in volume.
That made it worse.
---
The older brother of Doro chuckled.
He tilted his head slightly, holding Karkos by the hair as if presenting him.
"Oh?"
His tone was light.
Almost entertained.
"This one?"
He glanced at Karkos.
"…Yeah. He was quite the loudmouth."
Karkos tried to speak.
It came out broken.
Unstable.
The older brother continued without acknowledging it.
"But unfortunately for him…"
He tightened his grip slightly.
"…his tongue didn't match his strength."
A pause.
Then a smirk.
"He became what you'd call a punching bag."
---
He lifted Karkos slightly by the head.
Let it hang for a moment.
Then released it just enough for the body to slump again.
Laughter erupted from the surrounding group.
Not loud.
Not coordinated.
Just casual cruelty.
Like it was a shared hobby.
---
Heron exhaled slowly.
"…Pathetic."
He said it like a tired observation.
Not anger.
Disappointment.
His gaze swept across the group.
"You really think picking up old timers and broken civilians makes you tough?"
A faint pause.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You're just weak cowards hiding behind noise."
His tone sharpened slightly.
"Dust-covered lives pretending they matter."
---
The older brother's head turned slowly.
"…Say that again."
His voice dropped.
Karkos' body was still in his grip.
But now his attention had shifted entirely.
Toward Heron.
---
Imuis muttered under his breath.
"…Heron, maybe don't escalate it—"
But it was too late.
---
The older brother walked forward slightly.
Dragging Karkos with him.
Then suddenly—
he grabbed Karkos' head tighter.
Fingers digging in.
And stared directly at Heron.
"…Repeat that."
Silence.
Heavy.
---
Nocth's expression shifted slightly.
Something felt wrong.
Not just the violence.
The escalation.
The instability of it.
He turned his head slightly toward Heron.
"…Don't speak more."
His voice was quiet.
But firm.
---
Heron glanced at Nocth.
Then shrugged slightly.
"…Yeah, yeah."
But he didn't step back.
Not fully.
---
Doro, meanwhile, was watching Nocth closely.
And then—
he smiled faintly.
"…You still have it."
Nocth's gaze shifted.
---
Doro continued.
"Even if your appearance is completely different from what I remember…"
A pause.
"…your reaction is the same."
Nocth frowned slightly.
---
Doro tilted his head.
"That instinct."
"That hesitation for the weak."
A faint chuckle.
"…Didn't think that part of you would survive."
---
Nocth's voice dropped.
"…What are you talking about?"
---
Doro smiled wider.
"You don't remember?"
He took a step forward.
"…Or did you erase it on purpose?"
---
Nocth stayed silent.
But his mind flickered.
Fragments.
Broken impressions.
A place.
A confrontation.
A girl.
A blade raised too close.
But nothing stable.
Nothing complete.
---
Doro's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Interesting."
He leaned back.
"…So you really don't remember."
---
Nocth's confusion deepened.
His internal thoughts tightened.
I only ever met him once…
That time with the Saeverath girl… I stopped him…
That's it.
There was nothing else.
So why—
why was he speaking like there was more?
---
Doro tilted his head.
"You look lost."
Then he smiled faintly.
"…Perfect."
---
Before anyone could react—
Doro moved.
---
A hostage nearby was dragged forward.
A trembling man.
Barely standing.
---
And in one motion—
Doro stabbed downward.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just clean insertion of force.
A short, controlled strike.
---
The man's body jerked once.
Then collapsed.
Silence followed immediately.
---
Imuis' expression froze.
Heron's eyes sharpened.
Nocth's face changed completely.
---
Shock.
Not anger yet.
Shock.
---
The room felt heavier instantly.
Even Doro's allies paused slightly.
---
The middle-aged woman outside the group exhaled slowly.
"…How ruthless."
Her eyes narrowed.
"…At that age."
A pause.
Then she added softly:
"If he had been born into a noble household…"
Her gaze drifted toward Doro.
"…he would have been valuable."
A faint pause.
"…Maybe even attractive to Ruby."
Ruby scoffed immediately.
"I don't care about that kind of trash."
---
Imuis' voice cut through the air.
"…Now you've done it."
---
Doro tilted his head.
"…What?"
---
Imuis looked at him.
Calm.
But colder now.
"You just crossed the line from annoying to suicidal behavior."
A pause.
Then casually:
"Congratulations."
---
The older brother of Doro suddenly laughed.
"…Oh, I get it now."
He tightened his grip on Karkos' unconscious form.
"I heard rumors."
His eyes shifted toward Imuis.
"In some incident zone near Seraphly's outer boundary…"
"…a brat with a sharp tongue found an ancient inheritance."
A pause.
"…Fulgaris lineage resonance."
---
The entire room changed instantly.
Not visually.
Atmospherically.
---
Silence dropped like a physical weight.
Even the laughter died.
Even Doro's expression paused.
---
Ruby's face tightened.
"…Fulgaris?"
Her companions stiffened.
The middle-aged woman's eyes widened slightly.
"…No way."
Her voice lowered.
"…That household is not something this district should ever hear casually."
---
Her internal thoughts sharpened instantly.
Fulgaris… one of the top-tier governing powers…
Military command structure… economic domination… political enforcement reach across multiple strata systems…
Impossible… why would something like that be here?
---
She stared at Imuis again.
This time differently.
Not suspicion.
Greed.
---
If he truly carries that inheritance…
If I secure him…
Saeverath influence could skyrocket…
Promotion… direct connection… resources beyond rank…
---
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Interesting."
---
Imuis noticed immediately.
He sighed.
"…Please don't look at me like that."
He raised both hands slightly.
"I'm not a merchant item."
A pause.
Then casually:
"…Also, I'm not a courtesan either."
---
Heron almost choked.
"…Did he just say courtesan?"
---
Ruby snapped.
"…Shameless."
---
Nocth, however, didn't react to the jokes.
His eyes stayed on Karkos' body.
Then slowly shifted back to Doro.
Something colder forming now.
---
Doro smiled.
"…Let's make this interesting."
He pointed at Nocth.
"…Rematch."
---
Nocth blinked once.
"…What?"
---
Doro's smile widened.
"If you lose…"
"…you become mine."
A pause.
"…slave contract."
---
A few of his allies laughed.
Mocking.
Encouraging.
---
Nocth's gaze narrowed.
"…And if I win?"
---
Doro shrugged slightly.
"…Then I lose interest in you."
---
Imuis tilted his head.
"…That's it?"
A pause.
Then he added:
"…That's a very underwhelming betting system."
---
Laughter erupted again from Doro's group.
---
One of them muttered:
"…Is this guy serious?"
---
Imuis looked at him.
"…Are you mentally stable?"
A pause.
"…Because you're acting like you're not."
More laughter.
---
The older brother of Doro finally spoke.
"…Enough."
He looked at Doro.
"You handle the lazy-faced one."
Then shifted his gaze toward Imuis.
"…I'll take the sharp-tongued one."
---
Heron raised a hand slightly.
"…Hey."
A pause.
"…What about me?"
---
The entire group slowly turned toward him.
Silence.
Then—
menacing stares.
---
Heron paused.
"…Oh."
He sighed.
"…Of course."
Then muttered under his breath:
"…I hate my life."
---
And in that moment—
Nocth stepped forward.
Slow.
Controlled.
His eyes no longer confused.
Something had shifted.
---
And the air inside the Alehouse—
finally stopped pretending it was just a building.
It had become a battlefield.