Spoon's words landed. A flicker of recognition hardened the man's gaze as he remembered his conversation with Glenn earlier that same day.
"People like you… talented monsters. The only reason they aren't anything higher than a Second Class General is because that's the ceiling. You think you're strong? That you're some kind of monster?"
"Those people… they're what real monsters have nightmares about."
The words of that conversation returned to him then, echoing with a new and dangerous clarity. It had been about the power of a Second Class General—and more importantly, the chasm that existed within the rank itself. The truth was simple and brutal: the weakest among that class would likely be closer to the strength of a common food soldier than to the strongest Second Class General.
Though, Lacerta had no idea where he now stood on that vast spectrum of power.
By his own estimation, Haldran was the benchmark—the solid middle of the road. That assessment was based on Rusk, a man of comparable strength who had traded skill and speed for an excess of raw, untamed power.
Haldran had dismantled him rather one-sidedly, the victory decided by a gulf of battle experience alone. But that was before.... before he'd fought, before he'd learnt and improved during his fight against the four assassins. The very same that had forged him into something greater.
They were sacrificial lambs, offered only to make the monster Lacerta stronger still.
This was the terrifying, innate talent of a true Monster.
Lacerta: ["Is that so..."]
———————————————————————————
Not long after their truce, they walked, retracing Lacerta's path through the shadowed warren. Silence, thick in the air had hung between them—They were not allies, not friends. They were survivors of a battle that, by all rights, should have left one of them a corpse. Only it hadn't.
The quiet stretched into a raw, unnerving thing. It was a chasm Lacerta had no words to cross, nor the desire to. He simply stood at it's epicenter with his usual, indifferent mask, as he waited. And waited...
It was Spoon who finally opted to break the silence as a cough cut through the air.
Spoon: ["The friends you mentioned..."]
Lacerta's head whipped around, the movement so sharp it was nearly audible. His pupil eyes locked onto Spoon.
Spoon: ["Have you ever considered... that something... happened to them?"]
The thought had, of course, crossed Lacerta's mind. In a place like the Warrens, the likelihood of an ambush was far from zero. In fact, it was probably more than likely.
Could they be dead?
His gut reaction was to dismiss it. He had little fear for Rusk, whose raw, untamed power was a match for his own—excluding the explosive surges of strength that would make even Lacerta feel an ounce of exhaustion and his blade on the precipice of shattering. And Glenn... the ex-bandit's skill far outstripped the rabble he'd cut down in Guaral. A common thug wouldn't stand a chance.
Lacerta: ["Hrn..."]
But the doubt remained persistent despite that.
Simply, what if Spoon was lying? What if there were more of them? He replayed their fight in his mind—their incredible, seamless teamwork, a deadly dance that had nearly overwhelmed him. Against a single opponent, Rusk would prevail. Against a coordinated pack? Even he might struggle.
And Glenn... a cold certainty washed over Lacerta.
Glenn would die.
The air grew frigid. Spoon must have felt it too, because he raised his hands, palms open in a placating gesture, as if warding off a physical blow.
Spoon: ["That look you're giving me... is quite nerve-racking. I can practically feel the killing intent rolling off you in waves."]
Lacerta didn't move. His gaze remained locked on the man he was contemplating killing. A passing cloud smothered the moon, casting his face in sudden, deep shadow, making it impossible to tell where the darkness ended and his expression began.
Lacerta: ["Then speak if you value living."]
Spoon: ["....Very well then. Simply, your suspicion isn't logical. I know you're considering the possibility that I'm lying, but consider this: I'm sure you know by now that I am no fool. It took four of us to give you trouble until you learned our pattern. This also implies that your friends would have also faced four assassins, since we would have no idea which of you was the biggest threat."]
Spoon lowered his hands.
Spoon: ["The much easier alternative, one that not even you would survive, would have been to hunt you down one by one. All twelve of us against a single target. That's far more effective than splitting our forces, yes?"]
Lacerta remained quiet. He could find no flaw in the logic. Thus, he reeled in his killing intent.
Lacerta: ["Fair enough..."]
Spoon had previously claimed he didn't even know Lacerta was accompanied by two others until Lacerta himself had mentioned it. With this new reasoning, Lacerta could find no faults in his words.
Spoon: ["Now, what will you do?"]
Lacerta lowered his head slightly, pondering. As for what came next, saving his companions would have to wait. His primary objective, rescuing Caro Mendin, came first. While Rusk seemed friendly, he was still a stranger. Glenn was little more than a guide, but his knowledge was useful. If worst came to worst, Lacerta could leverage saving Caro to get a favor from Haldran and find his target that way.
Lacerta: ["Tell me more about what you were saying earlier."]
Spoon: ["Vola Dardain is the leader of The Feast. That also makes him the strongest among us. I've only seen the man a few times, but... a single look from him is enough to send a chill down your spine. If you want to find the silver-eyed traitor, finding Dardain is your best bet."]
Lacerta raised a brow.
Lacerta: ["Why is that?"]
Spoon: ["Because he's the one who deals with our traitors."]
The logic was sound. Lacerta had no way of verifying the claim, but he had to trust the assassin wasn't simply leading him into a trap.
Lacerta: ["Alright. I assume you know where he is?"]
Spoon: ["The Great Hall. It's a rather large, church-like structure deep beneath these streets. It appeared after the Warrens district was abandoned by the city. It's also where he spends most of his time."]
Lacerta's brows furrowed.
Lacerta: ["It appeared? What is that supposed to mean?"]
Spoon: ["It's what I said... mostly. The truth is, Dardain built it himself."]
Lacerta was still skeptical. How does someone build an entire church underground? Without a pre-existing cavern, the entire district should have collapsed.
Spoon: ["Much of Dardain's power is a mystery, but I do know one thing: it is being supported with Earth Magic."]
Magic. Lacerta blinked. He knew a few things about it, mainly that magic users in the Empire were exceedingly rare.
Spoon: ["I know what you're thinking, and it's not incorrect. In the entire Empire, you can count the number of mages on one hand. It's just a theory, but I don't think he's from here. I believe he came from a neighboring country, like Kararagi or Lugunica."]
Lacerta remained silent, prompting him to continue.
Spoon: ["I'm leaning toward Lugunica. Regardless, that's all the information I have."]
Lacerta gave swift nod.
Lacerta: ["I understand. Now, how do I get to this Great Hall?"]