The smell of the Iron City was distinct: rust, ozone, and unwashed bodies.
But as Kaelen stepped across the threshold of the White Spire, the air changed instantly. It smelled of lavender, beeswax candles, and expensive incense.
It smelled like lies.
Kaelen stood in the grand atrium of the Embassy. The floor was polished white marble, so clean it reflected the ornate chandeliers above. It was a grotesque display of wealth in a city where people ate rats to survive.
He adjusted the collar of his stolen captain's coat. He had cleaned off the blood, but the leather still carried the faint scent of violence.
"Name and business," the receptionist said without looking up. She was a nun in pristine white robes, typing on a mana-terminal.
"Captain Vane," Kaelen used a pseudonym. "I'm here to see Bishop Cassian regarding a... delayed shipment."
The nun paused. She looked up, scanning Kaelen's rough appearance with disdain.
"The Bishop does not see mercenaries without an appointment. Leave your grievance with the clerk at desk four."
Kaelen didn't move. He leaned over the desk, placing a single, charred piece of paper on the pristine marble.
It was a page torn from the [Convoy Ledger].
"Tell him the 'High-Grade Crystals' from Sector 4 have arrived," Kaelen whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "And tell him the previous courier had an unfortunate accident involving a kinetic projectile to the brain."
The nun's eyes widened as she recognized the code on the paper. Her disdain vanished, replaced by fear.
"Wait here."
She hurriedly picked up a communication stone.
Kaelen waited, his hands clasped behind his back. He scanned the room. Four Paladins by the elevator. Rank D. Heavily armored.
'If I fight here, I die,' Kaelen analyzed. 'This building is a fortress disguised as a temple. I need to play the role.'
The nun returned, pale-faced.
"The Bishop will see you now. Top floor."
The elevator ride was silent.
When the doors opened, Kaelen stepped into an office that occupied the entire penthouse. One wall was made of glass, overlooking the smog-choked city below.
Sitting behind a desk made of Weirwood was Bishop Cassian. He was a small, rotund man with a kindly face and eyes like a shark. He wore crimson vestments embroidered with gold thread.
"Captain... Vane, was it?" Cassian smiled, gesturing to a chair. "You have something that belongs to me."
Kaelen didn't sit. He walked to the window, looking down at the misery of the Iron City.
"I have three crawlers full of illegal mana crystals," Kaelen corrected him. "And I have the ledger that proves the Church is buying them from warlords to bypass the Kingdom's tax laws."
Cassian's smile didn't falter. He tapped his fingers on the desk.
"Blackmail is a dangerous game, Captain. Especially in the House of God."
"It's not blackmail," Kaelen turned around. "It's a renegotiation."
He walked to the desk and tossed the ledger onto it.
"The previous captain is dead. His crew is dead. I'm the one who cleaned up the mess. I expect to be paid for the delivery... plus a hazard fee for my silence."
Cassian picked up the ledger. He studied Kaelen.
"You are a bold man. Or a stupid one."
The Bishop reached under his desk. He didn't pull a gun. He pressed a rune.
[System Warning.]
[Spell Detected: Zone of Truth (Rank C).]
[Effect: Prevents lying within the target area.]
A golden circle glowed on the floor, encompassing them both.
"Let us test your honesty," Cassian said, his voice echoing with magical authority. "Are you really a mercenary captain? Or are you a spy?"
Kaelen felt the magic press against his mind. It was a compulsion, forcing his tongue to speak the truth.
But Kaelen's mind wasn't just human anymore. It was a fortress guarded by the [Sin Eater].
'Eat it,' Kaelen commanded internally.
[Abyssal Sun: Active (Internal).]
[Consuming Mental Interference...]
The pressure vanished. Kaelen felt a rush of mana as the spell was devoured.
He smiled. A perfect, predatory smile.
"I am a businessman, Bishop," Kaelen lied effortlessly, the System masking his deceit. "I go where the profit is. And right now, you look very profitable."
Cassian watched him closely. The spell gave no feedback of deception. The Bishop relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders.
"A businessman," Cassian chuckled. "Good. I like businessmen. They are predictable."
He deactivated the spell.
"The crystals are vital for our... expansion project," Cassian admitted. "The Inquisition Towers must be completed before the Pilgrimage Season begins."
"Towers?" Kaelen feigned ignorance. "That's a lot of infrastructure for a desert."
"It is necessary surveillance," Cassian waved his hand dismissively. "To protect the faithful from the 'Abyssal Sovereign' rumors spreading in the west."
He opened a drawer and pulled out a heavy sack of platinum coins.
"Here. Payment for the delivery. 5,000 Platinum. Deliver the crawlers to the warehouse in Sector 9 tonight."
Kaelen took the sack. It was heavy.
"Pleasure doing business," Kaelen said.
He turned to leave. He had the money. He had the trust. He could ambush the warehouse later.
But as he reached the door, Cassian spoke again.
"Oh, and Captain?"
Kaelen stopped.
"Since you are so capable... perhaps you would be interested in a second job?"
Kaelen turned back. "I'm listening."
Cassian stood up and walked to a map on the wall. He pointed to a location deep in Sector 5.
"We have located a... complication. A Nomad tribe that refuses to vacate a site we need for a Tower foundation."
Cassian looked at Kaelen with cold, holy indifference.
"They are savages. Mutants. Wipe them out. Bring me their chieftain's head, and I will double your fee."
Kaelen looked at the map.
[System Map Update.]
[Location marked: The Oasis of the Exiled.]
He recognized the location. It was near the coordinates of the 7th Door.
"Savages," Kaelen repeated, his face impassive. "Consider it done."
[Ding!]
[Quest Received: The Bishop's Hitman.]
[Objective: Destroy the Nomad Tribe.]
[Hidden Objective: Ally with the Nomads against the Church.]
[Social Engineering: Success.]
[Reward: 5,000 Platinum, Church Clearance Codes.]
Kaelen walked out of the office.
The elevator doors closed, sealing him in the metal box.
His smile dropped instantly. His eyes turned violet.
"He wants a massacre," Kaelen whispered to his reflection in the brass doors.
He clenched his fist around the platinum coins.
"I'll give him one. But he won't like who ends up on the altar."