Chapter Forty-Two: All That Is Impure

“From this moment on, we are partners.” The handsome youth from the Dice House grasped the hand of fellowship extended by the Glorious One, and then a dazzling, sunlit smile bloomed across his face—so radiant it seemed almost suffocating. “My name is Dick. I’m nothing more than a humble information broker, but I do possess enough martial skill to protect myself, so… there’s no need to worry about me. Go ahead and show your heroic prowess in felling powerful enemies.”

“So you can sell us at a good price afterward?” Amy exposed the youth’s true intentions with a single sharp remark.

“Please don’t worry,” the apostle of the Dice House patted his chest with an air of openness, making a solemn promise. “All profits gained will be divided equally among everyone.”

“Foolish,” the sword-bearer of the Order snorted coldly.

“All right, Mia, don’t take it too much to heart,” the Glorious One acted as the peacemaker within the group. Though he was equally dissatisfied with Dick, he understood that this was the price they had to pay for cooperating with the Dice House. “This fellow may not be trustworthy, but he is indeed an indispensable force in the destruction of the Dark Guild.”

“I understand,” the female swordsman replied coolly.

“Hey, I’m still right here, you know! Is it really okay to call me untrustworthy right to my face?” The golden-haired, blue-eyed youth grumbled in protest. “And you, beautiful lady over there, you still haven’t told me your name! Aren’t we supposed to be companions who share weal and woe, life and death?”

“You—” But swifter than her voice was the girl’s sword. “Say that again.”

Her tone was icy, and the tip of her drawn blade was just as cold.

Dick of the Dice House sheepishly raised both hands, his gaze flicking nervously to the silver greatsword resting at his neck. He stuck out his tongue in a placating gesture, “My apologies, ma’am—it’s my fault. Could you please move that thing away from my neck? It’s very dangerous, you know.”

“Remember this,” the sword-bearer’s emerald eyes brimmed with chilling intent. “There will not be a next time—if I ever hear that word from your mouth again—”

“Which word?” The youth blinked innocently, his face a picture of guileless curiosity.

The girl didn’t reply, but silently drew her silver cross-shaped sword halfway from her back, revealing its gleaming, keen edge.

“Ma’am—don’t be rash, don’t be rash—” Having suffered once already, the handsome youth quickly raised his hands and backed away, hiding behind the Glorious One. “Let’s talk things over like civilized people, all right? No need for violence.”

“If ‘ma’am’ isn’t the forbidden word, then it must be ‘companion.’” Amy arched an eyebrow, dragged the youth out from behind her, and said, “Looks like she still hasn’t accepted you. Let me give you a word of advice—while she hasn’t killed you yet, you’d better sincerely apologize. Otherwise, if she makes up her mind, the only help I can offer is to give you a quick end.”

“I misjudged you!” The youth wailed by her ear, but the Glorious One merely shrugged.

“It’s not you.” The sword-bearer of the Order did not act. She sheathed her sword and, after her gaze swept across the two men, spoke again. “It’s both of you.”

“As expected.” Considering he’d almost been beaten half to death at their first meeting, Amy had anticipated this less-than-pleasant result. “But in any case, for now we’re partners bound by mutual interests; it’s best not to let things grow too tense before the mission is done. Though, if this is your idea of normal interaction, perhaps you two are unexpectedly compatible.”

Dick immediately jumped up. “Who’s compatible with this guy?”

“Endure,” Mia replied, her expression still blank.

“Thank you for your effort,” the Glorious One nodded slightly. “If, after disarming all the traps, he’s still this lively, I don’t mind if you help keep our combat capabilities secret by more physical means.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” The handsome youth from the Dice House cried out in alarm again. “I’m right here! Is it really okay for you to openly discuss murdering me to tie up loose ends?”

“Just being prepared,” the sword-bearer intoned, enunciating every word.

“I may be joking, but Mia might not be,” Amy had no intention of defending the ambiguous Dice House. “I can’t reveal her exact identity, but I imagine you already have your suspicions.”

He never believed that the arrival of the sword-bearer of the Order could be concealed from those who held real power in the lower district. No matter how cautious Mia was, no matter how well she hid her movements, in unfamiliar territory it was all too easy to draw the attention of those with eyes and influence. Besides, those with the privilege to freely travel between the upper and lower districts could be counted on one hand; a new face would be quickly noticed, and with bad luck, she might have been discovered the very moment she arrived three days ago.

If her presence was still a secret to most of the lower district, then the Dice House must have played a pivotal role in keeping it so.

“Not entirely,” the handsome youth shrugged, the playful smile fading from his face. He spoke with remarkable candor. “I only know she’s from the upper district, came through Church connections, and moved into your home three days ago without a word. Beyond that, she’s completely shrouded in mystery—don’t make the Dice House out to be too fearsome; we don’t have the means to plant people within the Order.”

“So you do have eyes in the upper district,” the young Glorious One narrowed his eyes slightly.

“It’s quite limited, actually,” Dick spread his hands. “At least until today, I didn’t know you were still alive.”

“That’s only natural, since I ‘came back from the dead.’”

When it came to his own ‘death,’ Amy was quite philosophical—he never minded concealing the true nature of his abilities. If he could use the guise of ‘resurrection’ to divert others’ attention, so much the better. Still… what exactly is a ‘guise’? Was it some kind of equipment from the ancient age of kings? The term felt oddly off.

Never mind, best not to dwell on such things.

Once again, the Glorious One let go of the thought.

“Dick—” Shaking himself free of pointless musings, the youth stopped in his tracks and turned to the intelligence agent behind him. “You must have a plan for infiltrating the Ildan Mines, yes?”

Truly, he was exhausted; such a crucial detail had only just occurred to him now.

Amy sighed inwardly, waiting for the other’s response.

If he could, he would love nothing more than a day’s rest—ever since his journey to the upper district, he hadn’t had a moment’s respite. First, he was hunted and killed two or three times by the Dark Lords, then lay senseless in the morgue for three days; barely escaping with his life, he’d spent an afternoon babysitting a little girl out of some misplaced sense of duty, only to be thoroughly battered upon returning home… Now, body and soul were both weary and covered in wounds; his physical and mental states were dangerously worn.

But he could not afford carelessness, nor could he become lax.

He steeled himself for one final effort.

“There’s a plan.” The apostle of the Dice House nodded. “We’ll take tonight to reach the Mining Town, rest for a day, acquire the necessary gear, and then on the third morning, blend in with the miners’ convoy to enter the mining area.”

“Too slow.” The golden-haired, blue-eyed girl lifted her beautiful brows.

“The lower district is not like the upper—it’s vast,” the Glorious One unexpectedly spoke up in defense of the youth beside him. “I’m not too familiar with the outskirts, but even at our pace, it would take seven or eight hours to get there from here, at best.”

The upper district was not always called so, nor was the lower district; they were once known as the Inner City and Outer City, with the Mist Zone further out, once merely the suburbs. Hemtica was founded in close connection with the Fireseed; its Inner City, Outer City, Ramparts, and the Deepest Night formed three concentric layers, each encircling the last like nested dolls—the further out, the larger the ring, though by how much, few could say, as the map of Hemtica remained tightly controlled by the council’s upper echelons. At least, Amy was not one of the few.

“Social stratification is everywhere. In Hemtica, where you live determines if you’re upper or lower class. Even among the despised lower class, there’s a further divide,” Dick’s lips curled in a mocking arc. “Lower folk and the outcasts—just as the upper class looks down on the lower, so too do the lower class scorn the pariahs living at the edges. There’s no law that says so, but those people are never allowed to set foot in the civilized world—not even a single step.”

“Young lady—” He looked toward the silent girl, malice dancing in his emerald eyes. “That place is a wasteland abandoned by civilization. Everyone there has forsaken hope, and struggles helplessly in their own hell. I can guarantee, you’ll be as conspicuous as fire in the dark. Without me, you’d be found by the Dark Guild within three minutes. Then… while I can’t say for certain you’d fail, at the very least, what you would face would no longer be a battle, but a war—a real war.”

“The Dark Guild, with centuries of history, is a true behemoth of the lower district,” the apostle of the Dice House narrowed his eyes, voice growing ever graver. “Once it initiates full-scale mobilization, even the Glorious Families of the upper district have cause to worry. Over the years, those lunatics have bred some truly fearsome monsters… and a vast hoard of ‘contraband’ that’s been sealed away.”

He placed particular emphasis on ‘contraband.’

“Oh.” Yet the sword-bearer of the Order merely replied softly, raising her head as she did so. The half-drawn cross-shaped sword reflected a steely gleam, and deep within her emerald eyes, a quiet flame seemed to flicker.

“The Lord says—” Her voice was calm and strong, carrying an unshakable authority.

“—Whatever is impure shall be purged by thunder and flame.”