The group moved through the upper docking corridors of Blackwater, passing beneath rusted steel arches and flickering mana lamps that cast long, distorted shadows across the walkway.
Far below them—
the city roared endlessly.
Engines thundered somewhere in the distance.
Massive forges hissed and screamed with heat.
Metal clanged against metal in uneven rhythms.
Voices shouted from unseen streets layered beneath the docks.
All of it blended together into one ceaseless industrial heartbeat.
Eventually—
they reached a massive industrial elevator platform.
A heavy freight lift.
Large enough to transport cargo shipments, ship crews, armored vehicles—
and occasionally things nobody asked questions about.
The rusted gate groaned open.
The group stepped inside.
A moment later—
the elevator began its slow descent.
Chains groaned overhead.
Mana pistons released bursts of steam with rhythmic hissing sounds.
The entire platform trembled faintly as it lowered them deeper into Blackwater's sprawling vertical maze.
Aldric leaned lazily against the railing, bottle still hanging loosely from one hand.
His gaze drifted toward the cultist.
"…So," he said casually, "you still haven't used that card I gave you."
The cultist blinked once.
"I haven't had a reason to."
Aldric smirked faintly.
"Right."
His eyes shifted upward slightly, toward where Draven stood near the opposite side of the lift.
"But *he* just casually pulled out a card from who-knows-where and used it like it meant nothing."
A pause.
"That's suspicious."
The cultist remained silent for a moment.
Instead, she adjusted her grip slightly on the cloth-wrapped artifact hanging at her side.
"…My lord's actions do not require explanation."
Aldric let out a short laugh.
"Yeah?"
"That's a very elegant way of saying you don't know either."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I did not say that."
"Didn't need to."
The elevator continued descending.
Far above them, the dock level slowly shrank into a thin strip of distant light.
Nia stood quietly beside Draven, her attention fixed more on the machinery surrounding them than the conversation itself.
The elevator descended deeper still.
The lighting gradually changed as they moved lower into the city.
The harsh white glow of the upper docks faded behind them, replaced by warmer colors—
orange forge light,
flickering lanterns,
and the shifting glow of mana-powered signs embedded into the metal walls.
Aldric remained leaning against the railing, bottle half-raised.
The cultist's expression stayed calm, though her eyes had narrowed slightly now.
"…Even if I had access to it," she said quietly, "you would not have been able to use it anyway."
Aldric glanced sideways at her.
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"
"It is a statement of fact."
Her tone remained even.
"We were in the air."
A pause.
"Did you see any shops up there?"
Aldric said nothing.
"So even if I had authorized it," she continued calmly, "there would have been nowhere for you to spend it."
Aldric nodded slowly.
"…Fair enough."
Then he grinned faintly.
"But now?"
His gaze lifted slightly, as though he could already see the city waiting beneath them.
"We're in an actual city."
The elevator jolted softly as it passed another junction level.
Massive gears shifted somewhere below them.
Aldric took another drink before continuing more casually.
"That card would've been useful earlier."
The cultist ignored the comment.
"We are in Blackwater now," she said calmly. "If we require supplies, we can acquire them here."
A pause.
"But we should remain cautious."
Aldric smirked immediately.
"Cautious."
He repeated the word like it amused him.
"This is Blackwater."
"The only difference between 'cautious' and 'dead' is how much you paid someone."
Then—
the elevator shuddered violently before grinding to a halt.
A deep metallic *CLANG* echoed through the shaft.
The gates slowly opened.
Warm air rushed inside immediately.
Heavy.
Thick.
Filled with smoke, spice, oil, alcohol, sweat, and burning metal.
Blackwater's lower city stretched before them.
Narrower than the upper districts.
Denser.
Louder.
More chaotic.
The streets twisted together like tangled veins beneath the industrial skeleton overhead.
Buildings leaned inward as though whispering secrets to one another.
Mana signs flickered in multiple languages across rusted storefronts and hanging banners.
Crowds moved through the streets like living rivers between market stalls, workshops, gambling dens, weapon stores, and shadowed alleyways guarded by people who clearly preferred not to be noticed.
Above everything—
massive pipes and suspended walkways crisscrossed through the air like a second sky forged entirely from iron.
Aldric stepped out first, bottle still in hand.
His gaze swept lazily across the district.
"This place is… loud."
The cultist exited more carefully, scanning the surroundings immediately.
Alert.
Measured.
Nia stayed close beside Draven, silent as always.
Aldric rolled one shoulder slightly before stretching.
"Alright," he said casually while glancing toward the group.
"First order of business—"
The group moved deeper into Blackwater's lower district, where the streets narrowed further and the pressure of the crowd closed around them like a living current.
Aldric walked slightly ahead now, eyes drifting lazily across the alleys and rooftops while his bottle swung loosely in one hand.
"Alright," he said flatly, "let's go get feed."
The cultist nodded once.
"Yes."
"We need somewhere quieter."
"Somewhere private."
Her gaze swept carefully across the surrounding alleyways.
"…Even if one or two people disappear here, nobody would notice."
A pause.
"But it should still be handled quietly."
Aldric clicked his tongue immediately.
"Yeah, we got it already."
Then his eyes shifted sharply toward her.
"And stop talking like we're your damn subordinates."
A pause.
"Also stop acting like we're members of your cult waiting for inspection."
The cultist's expression tightened slightly.
"I am not—"
Aldric cut her off instantly.
"You are."
Silence lingered briefly afterward.
Then the cultist muttered quietly beneath her breath—
"…Of course you are not."
Another pause.
"But you definitely require inspection."
Aldric's eyes narrowed immediately.
"…What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
The cultist paused for half a second.
"…Nothing important."
Her grip tightened faintly around the wrapped artifact at her side.
Nia remained silent beside Draven, watching the shifting movement of the crowd with calm, unreadable eyes.
Draven himself did not react to the conversation at all.
He simply continued walking forward through the crowded street beneath his hood.
Steady.
Unbothered.
The black cat resting beneath his cloak remained perfectly still as its hidden eyes silently observed the city around them.
Aldric took another sip from the bottle before speaking again.
"Just find a place."
"Quiet."
"Private."
"No witnesses."
The cultist nodded once.
"That is exactly what I intend."
And so the strange group continued deeper into Blackwater's lower district—
where the streets grew tighter,
the noise thicker,
and unwanted attention was often more dangerous than any weapon.