The morning sun rose over a scene of carnage that looked disturbingly like a masterpiece.
The snow in the front yard was stained crimson and blue—a mix of Stalker blood and the strange, viscous fluid of the Alpha. Kael was already awake, dragging the lesser carcasses into a pile. He moved with a stiff, soreness that suggested his sudden evolution had taken a toll, but his energy was high.
Valeria stood over the massive body of the Alpha Stalker. She wore her thick velvet cloak, the Merchant's Monocle active over her right eye.
[Target: Alpha Frost Stalker (Mutated).]
[Harvestable Materials:]
[1. Frost Core (C-Rank). Value: 80 Gold.]
[2. Pristine Ice Fur. Value: 40 Gold.]
[3. Glacial Fangs. Value: 15 Gold.]
"One hundred and thirty-five gold," Valeria whispered. "From one night of terror."
"It is a high-risk, high-reward economy," Ignis said, limping up beside her. He was wrapped in three blankets, clutching a mug of hot Spirit Wheat tea. "But we cannot bank on being attacked by high-tier beasts every night. Eventually, one will eat us."
"That's why we need the wall," Valeria said. "And why we need to send that letter."
She knelt down and pulled out her dagger. "Kael! I need the core. Crack the chest open."
Kael walked over. He didn't use an axe. He used his new claws. With a sound like tearing sheet metal, he ripped through the frozen ribcage of the Alpha.
He reached into the chest cavity and pulled out a pulsing, sapphire-blue crystal the size of a grapefruit. The air around it instantly froze, misting white.
"Cold," Kael grunted, tossing it to Valeria.
She caught it with a gloved hand. It was heavy.
"Caspian!" she called.
The Shark poked his head out of the back door.
"Put this in the water trough," she ordered, handing him the core. "It will keep the water ice-cold. You'll heal faster."
Caspian's eyes widened. "For me?"
"We need our Assassin at full strength," Valeria said. "Now go."
As Caspian scurried away with his prize, a sound drifted up from the valley road.
Sleigh bells.
Silas, who was chewing on a Stalker leg, dropped it. He growled low in his throat.
"Humans," Silas warned. "Many. Smells like... old paper and cheap wine."
Valeria stood up and wiped her dagger on the snow.
"The Village Chief," she guessed. "He heard the roar last night. Or Jory told him about the 'Needle Demon'."
"Do we hide?" Lucian asked, peeking from the window.
"No," Valeria said, smoothing her cloak. "We flaunt."
She turned to Kael. "Stand on the Alpha. Look scary."
Kael grinned. He climbed onto the massive carcass of the white beast, crossed his arms, and let his golden eyes flare.
The Village Chief's sleigh was drawn by two heavy draft horses. He didn't come alone. He brought six village militia men - well, they were burly farmers armed with pitchforks and rusted swords.
Chief Miller was a round man with a red face and eyes that shifted constantly, like a rat looking for cheese. He stepped out of the sleigh, wrapping his fur coat tighter.
He expected to find a massacre. He expected to find the "Beggar Princess" dead and her "pets" frozen.
Instead, he saw a fortress in the making.
He saw the glittering glass greenhouse. He saw the piles of seasoned firewood. And he saw the massive, golden-skinned Tiger standing atop a dead monster that was twice the size of a horse.
Miller stopped dead. His militia stopped behind him, murmuring in fear.
"Chief Miller," Valeria called out from the porch. She held a cup of tea, looking entirely too comfortable for a woman living in a ruin. "To what do I owe the honor? Did you come to collect the trash?"
She gestured to the dead Stalkers.
Miller swallowed hard. He looked at Kael, then at the dead Alpha. Greed warred with fear in his eyes.
"We... uh... we heard noises," Miller stammered, regaining some of his bluster. "Disturbing the peace. The villagers are terrified."
"We were hunting," Valeria said. "Is pest control illegal in Oakhaven now?"
"That's not a pest!" Miller shouted, pointing at the Alpha. "That's a C-Rank Calamity Beast! It belongs to the Crown! Or... or the local magistrate!"
"Actually," Ignis spoke up.
The Dragon stepped out onto the porch. He wore a monocle (the one Valeria had bought for the disguise kit) and held a scroll. He looked every inch the arrogant, intellectual noble.
"According to the Imperial Hunting Laws, Section 7, Paragraph 3," Ignis recited smoothly, "any beast killed on private land in defense of life or property is the sole property of the landholder. Unless, of course, the local government wishes to pay a 'Hazardous Duty Bounty' for our service in protecting the village?"
Ignis peered at Miller over the monocle. "Would you like to pay us the bounty, Chief? It is fifty gold coins for an Alpha."
Miller turned purple. "I... I don't have fifty gold!"
"Then the carcass is ours," Ignis concluded, rolling up the scroll. "Good day."
Miller sputtered. He was losing control. He looked at his militia, hoping they would back him up. But the men were staring at Kael, who had just casually crushed the Alpha's skull under his boot to make a point.
"You... you can't keep this land!" Miller shrieked, changing tactics. "You haven't paid the winter tax! The deadline was yesterday!"
Valeria raised an eyebrow. "The winter tax is ten silver coins. I paid it last month to the tax collector in the city."
"There's a local surcharge," Miller lied, desperate to find leverage. "New ordinance. Passed last night. For... infrastructure. Fifty silver coins. Due immediately. Or we seize the property."
It was a blatant shake-down.
Valeria set her cup down. She walked down the steps. She didn't look angry. She looked bored.
"Fifty silver," she repeated.
She reached into her pocket. She pulled out the heavy bag she had taken from Bram.
She tossed it.
It hit Miller in the chest with a heavy thud, knocking the wind out of him. He caught it, stumbling back.
"There's sixty," Valeria said coldly. "Keep the change. Buy yourself a spine."
Miller opened the bag. Silver shined back at him. He looked at Valeria with pure shock. Where did a disowned girl get this kind of money?
"Where..."
"Investments," Valeria interrupted. "Now, get off my land. Unless you want to help skin the Stalkers? I pay two coppers an hour."
The militia men snickered.
Miller flushed a deep, ugly crimson. He clutched the bag. He had the money, but he had lost face. And in a small village, face was everything.
"This isn't over, Elise," Miller hissed, climbing back into his sleigh. "You think money makes you safe? Winter is long. And accidents happen."
"Accidents like Jory tripping on a needle?" Valeria asked softly.
Miller froze. He glared at her one last time, then whipped the horses.
"Go!"
The sleigh turned and sped away, the militia jogging awkwardly behind it.
Valeria watched them go.
"He'll be back," Kael said, jumping down from the carcass. "He smells like fear. Fear turns into violence."
"I know," Valeria said. "That's why we accelerate the plan."
She turned to Ignis. "Is the letter ready?"
Ignis pulled a sealed envelope from his robe. "Drafted, sealed with a generic wax stamp, and written in a hand that mimics the High Priest's secretary—just enough to be confusing."
"What does it say?"
Ignis smiled thinly. "It says: 'The Wolf who howls at the Silver Moon is chained in the dark, but the collar bears the mark of the Guild. Seek the lost Prince where the timber is illegal and the snow hides blood.'"
"Cryptic," Valeria noted. "I like it."
"It implicates Bram's logging camp and the Guild," Ignis explained. "The Temple will investigate the camp first. They will find the Guild's records there—because I assume Bram deals with them for exotic wood?"
"He does," Valeria confirmed. "The ledger mentioned 'crates for the Capital'."
"Then the Temple finds the connection. They raid the Guild. The Guild blames the Temple. Chaos ensues."
"Perfect," Valeria said.
"But how do we deliver it?" Ignis asked. "If we go to the city, Miller will have spies watching us."
Valeria looked at the sky. A hawk was circling overhead.
She looked at Lucian.
The Phoenix was sitting on the porch railing, sewing a patch onto a blanket.
"Lucian," Valeria called.
The boy looked up. "Yes, Commander?"
"How far can you throw?"
Lucian blinked. "Throw what?"
"Not what," Valeria said. "Who."
She turned to the hawk circling above.
"Can you talk to birds?"
Lucian hesitated. "I... I'm a bird beastman. I can't speak 'Hawk'. But... I can ask for a favor. Birds like shiny things."
Valeria reached into the bag of Stalker loot. She pulled out a Glacial Fang. It was like a diamond dagger.
"If you give the hawk this," Valeria said, "will he drop a letter in the offering box of the Temple in Fort Riven?"
Lucian's eyes went wide. He looked at the hawk, then at the shiny fang.
He stood up. He let out a high, piercing whistle.
The hawk dove. It landed on the porch railing, eyeing the fang greedily.
Lucian chirped at it. A series of clicks and whistles. The hawk tilted its head, looking at the letter Ignis held, then at the fang.
The hawk squawked.
"He says yes," Lucian translated, beaming. "He says he hates the Guild anyway. They shoot arrows at him."
Ignis tied the letter to the hawk's leg. Valeria handed over the fang. The hawk snatched it in its beak.
With a powerful flap of wings, the bird launched itself into the air, banking south toward Fort Riven.
"Air mail," Valeria murmured. "No tracks. No witnesses."
She turned back to her husbands.
"Alright, gentlemen. The political bomb is launched. Now, we have a wall to build."
She pointed to the limestone cliffs in the distance.
"Kael, take the sled. Silas, scout for rocks. Ignis, mark the perimeter. We're turning this farm into a fortress."
[Mission Update: The Political Saboteur.]
[Status: In Progress.]
[Objective: Incite Faction War.]
[Reward Pending: Temple Favor or Guild Wrath.]
Valeria smiled. "Let them fight."
Two days later, in Fort Riven, High Priestess Elara of the White Lotus Temple was having a boring morning. She was counting the copper coins in the donation box.
Clink.
Something hit the bottom of the box that wasn't a coin.
She reached in and pulled out a heavy parchment envelope. It smelled of ozone and pine.
She opened it. She read the riddle.
Her eyes narrowed.
"The Wolf... the Silver Moon..."
She stood up, her white robes rustling. The Silver Moon Clan had been slaughtered ten years ago. If a Prince survived... and the Guild had him...
It was heresy. The Beast Taming Guild claimed all beastmen were soulless. If they were hiding a Royal, it proved they knew the truth: that beastmen had lineage, intelligence, and souls.
"Captain," Elara called out to the Temple Guard standing by the door.
"Yes, High Priestess?"
"Summon the Paladins," Elara said, her voice trembling with holy fury. "We are going to inspect a logging camp."
Back at Oakhaven
Ignis sneezed.
"Someone is talking about us," the Dragon muttered, laying a brick of limestone onto the growing wall.
"Probably the Chief," Kael grunted, mixing mortar.
"Or," Valeria said, planting a new row of Spirit Wheat, "the fuse has just been lit."
She looked at Silas, who was helping Lucian carry small stones. The Wolf looked happy. He didn't know his name was about to start a war.
And for now, that was exactly how Valeria wanted it.