The first horn sounded before Miriel could answer him.
It rolled across the city in one immense metallic note, so low and deep that Khan stopped in his tracks. Every pigeon on the rooftops took flight at once, and the market noise beyond the alley died so abruptly that the silence felt physical.
Then came the second horn.
Longer.
People started running. Not panicking yet. Somehow, that worried Khan more.
The baker slammed his shutters. Merchants abandoned half-packed stalls. City guards who had spent the evening arguing about battle-axes and pastry shops suddenly moved with military precision.
"Clear the streets!" a guard shouted from the market square. "Corrupt Storm! Western approach! All civilians to designated shelters! Move!"
The third horn sounded.
That was when panic arrived.
Khan stepped into the street and looked west.
Ten minutes ago, sunset had painted the rooftops copper. Now something was eating the horizon.
A wall of cloud stretched from north to south, far too dark and solid to be weather. Purple lightning crawled through it without a sound, and the countryside beneath had vanished behind a curtain of black rain.
Except Khan wasn't entirely convinced it was rain.
Something enormous moved inside the clouds.
He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that?"
Miriel stepped out beside him, and the color drained from her face.
"A Corrupt Storm."
"I gathered that from the screaming."
[Environmental phenomenon detected.]
Khan waited.
[...]
"And?"
[Corrupt Storm.]
"Very informative."
[Thank you.]
"What does it do?"
[Unable to determine.]
Khan looked toward the approaching wall. "So your contribution is that the giant corrupt-looking storm is, in fact, a Corrupt Storm."
[Correct.]
"I could replace you with a signpost."
[Signposts cannot insult you.]
"That's not a selling point."
Another bolt of violet lightning split the horizon and struck the ground. For half a second, the fields beyond the city walls glowed purple.
Several things rose from where it had struck.
They were too distant to identify, and large enough that Khan decided identification was unnecessary.
Miriel grabbed his sleeve. "We need to leave."
"The city?"
"Now."
A guard sprinted past them, shouting, "East District residents, Bunker Seven! Market District, Bunker Five!"
Khan watched hundreds of people funnel toward a broad stone stairway near the central plaza. Families, merchants, children and adventurers, all herded underground.
He looked at Miriel. She looked back.
"No," Khan said.
"No," Miriel agreed.
[Survival shelter detected.]
[Recommendation: Seek shelter.]
Three armed guards stood at the bunker entrance, checking citizens one by one. One of them pressed a crystal wand to each person's chest. Every successful inspection produced a green flash, and the next civilian was waved through.
"What does that wand do?" Khan asked.
Miriel's tail immediately curled tighter beneath her cloak.
"Detects corruption."
Khan glanced at her hidden horns. "And demons?"
"Also demons."
"Excellent."
[Revised recommendation: Do not seek shelter.]
"Glad you caught up."
Even if Miriel somehow passed the inspection, the bunker itself was worse: one entrance, underground, hundreds of frightened humans packed into a confined space, and no second way out that Khan could see. If someone discovered what Miriel was, there would be nowhere to run.
And Khan had problems of his own.
He had no identification, no family and no guild. More importantly, he had no convincing explanation for why he was traveling with a disguised demon princess carrying a weapon capable of revising the local definition of geography.
He imagined the interrogation.
Who are you?
Artifact researcher.
Credentials?
I travel.
From where?
Several places.
Khan sighed.
He really had constructed a terrible lie.
[Character development.]
"Shut up."
Miriel glanced at him. "What?"
"Not you."
She stared at him. "That continues to be concerning."
Another horn sounded, this time in short, urgent bursts.
Carriages began streaming toward the eastern gate.
The wealthy were leaving.
Khan noticed immediately.
Of course they were.
The common folk were being sent underground while merchants, nobles, guild officials and anyone else with enough money or authority evacuated by road.
Different world, same species.
Civilization could invent magic, enchanted engines, conceptual weapons and fruit that seemed personally offended by its own existence. It could not invent equality during an emergency.
"East gate," Khan said.
Miriel followed his gaze. "They may be checking travelers."
"Probably."
"Then?"
"We don't go through as ourselves."
"Do you have disguises?"
"No."
"Documents?"
"No."
"A carriage?"
"No."
"Money?"
Khan checked his pouch and paused. "Less than I'd like."
Miriel stared at him. "Your plan appears to contain several weaknesses."
[She learns quickly.]
Khan ignored both of them. "We need transportation belonging to someone important enough that the guards won't inspect every passenger."
"And where do we find such a person?"
Khan looked toward the evacuation traffic.
"Same place you find anything else."
Miriel frowned.
"A market."
The eastern carriage square had turned into an auction run by terrified people.
"Thirty gold!"
"Forty!"
"I have children!"
"Fifty for three seats!"
"Get away from the horses!"
"Guild members first!"
"I'll pay double!"
"Road to Halvern is still open!"
"Not for long!"
Khan moved slowly through the chaos with Miriel close behind him, her hood pulled low. The Corrupt Storm had swallowed another slice of the western sky.
They had perhaps half an hour.
Maybe less.
But panic had one useful property: it made people reveal what they valued.
A noble offered 20 gold for a private carriage and was refused. A merchant offered 50 and was accepted. A family tried to buy seats one at a time, too slowly to matter. An adventurer offered protection instead of money.
Interesting.
Khan catalogued prices, supply, demand, routes and authority. More importantly, he watched which carriages were searched, which weren't, and which insignias made the guards wave a vehicle through without a second look.
His heartbeat slowed.
Miriel noticed the change.
Everyone around them grew more frightened by the minute, while Khan seemed calmer by the second. She had seen warriors do something similar before battle, but this was different.
He wasn't looking at the storm.
He was looking at people.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
"Price discovery."
"What?"
"Finding out how desperate everyone is."
"Very."
"I noticed."
[Market conditions: Catastrophic.]
Finally, useful information.
[Investment recommendation: Panic.]
Never mind.
Then Khan saw blue hair.
Not metaphorically. Actually blue.
A young woman stood beside an ornate carriage beneath the awning of a closed bookshop. She looked about Khan's apparent age, perhaps nineteen, with waist-length blue hair that somehow remained immaculate despite the chaos, and sapphire eyes that watched the evacuation with considerably more curiosity than fear.
Her clothes were expensive without being ostentatious: a dark traveling coat with silver embroidery, white gloves and a brooch shaped like a golden leaf.
Two private guards stood behind her, armed, and carrying themselves like men who knew exactly what their swords were for.
But none of that was what caught Khan's attention.
The book did.
A hooded bookseller held out a dark green grimoire wrapped in chains.
It had teeth.
Khan stopped so abruptly that Miriel bumped into him.
"What?"
He pointed. "That book has teeth."
"It is probably cursed."
"You say that like it's normal."
"In this city?"
Fair.
The grimoire snapped at the bookseller's fingers. He jerked his hand back.
The blue-haired woman looked delighted.
"I'll take it."
The bookseller blinked. "My lady, perhaps I should explain the risks."
"Does it actually bite?"
"Yes."
"Hard?"
"I lost part of a glove this morning."
"Wonderful."
Khan watched her produce a purse.
"How much?"
The bookseller hesitated. "8 gold."
The woman handed him fifteen.
Khan's eyes narrowed.
"My lady..." the bookseller said.
"For the chains."
"The chains are included."
"Then for the inconvenience."
Khan went completely still.
Miriel recognized the expression. It was the same one he'd worn when she'd asked how much it would cost to buy back a kingdom.
"What?"
Khan didn't answer.
He looked at the woman.
The System activated.
[Target detected.]
[Name: Lillia Goldleaf.]
[Race: Human.]
[Age: 19.]
[Status: Merchant Heiress.]
[Affiliation: Goldleaf Merchantry.]
[Father: Erwin Goldleaf.]
[Father's Status: Guild Master of the Goldleaf Merchantry.]
[Personal Wealth: Extremely High.]
[Combat Potential: B.]
[Mana Capacity: A+.]
[Notable Traits: Generous. Curious. Impulsive. Highly Educated.]
[Current Emotional State: Excited.]
[Current Objective: Evacuate city while acquiring interesting merchandise.]
Khan read the last line twice, then slowly smiled.
Miriel saw it and immediately disliked it.
"Why are you looking at her like that?"
"Opportunity."
[Correction.]
A second window appeared.
[Rich opportunity.]
Khan almost felt proud.
"Who is she?" Miriel asked.
"Lillia Goldleaf."
Her expression changed. "You know her?"
"No."
"You just said her name."
"I'm an artifact researcher."
[Host has now expanded his fraudulent services to include genealogy.]
Miriel narrowed her eyes. "You are a very strange artifact researcher."
"Specialized field."
Lillia casually handed the bookseller 2 more gold coins after he produced a cloth bag thick enough to stop the grimoire from eating her carriage upholstery. She handed the bag to one of her guards, keeping the grimoire out for a closer look.
17 gold for a biting book quoted at 8.
Generous, impulsive and rich.
More importantly, she had a very expensive carriage with four horses, the Goldleaf insignia and two private guards. Judging by the way city officers were waving Goldleaf vehicles toward the eastern gate, it also came with an excellent chance of leaving without inspection.
Khan ran the numbers.
At current panic prices, two seats on the evacuation market could cost anywhere from 30 to 100 gold, possibly more. He didn't have that.
Lillia, however, had just demonstrated that maximizing profit was not her primary concern.
Which meant negotiating with her on market price would be stupid.
When the counterparty did not care about market price, you changed the frame.
"What are you planning?" Miriel asked.
"Buying two seats."
"With what?"
"A fairly low price."
Miriel glanced at the people screaming bids of fifty gold. "Khan, you have an unusual understanding of the phrase 'low price.'"
"I don't intend to compete with them."
He started walking, but Miriel caught his sleeve.
"Wait. Her guards. Her family. The Goldleaf Merchantry is one of the largest merchant guilds in the western human territories."
That was useful.
[New information recorded.]
Miriel blinked as Khan's eyes unfocused for half a second.
"What did you just do?"
"Remembered something."
"You didn't know who she was 30 seconds ago."
"Miriel."
"Yes?"
"Trust the artifact researcher."
[Do not trust the artifact researcher.]
Khan's jaw tightened.
Miriel stared at him, then covered her mouth.
"Are you laughing?"
"No."
"You are."
"I am not."
[Assessment: She is.]
Traitors. Both of them.
Khan walked toward Lillia.
One of the private guards noticed him immediately.
"Stop."
Khan did.
Lillia looked up from her new grimoire just as it attempted to bite her. She tapped it firmly on the cover.
"No."
It growled.
Khan stared.
She was disciplining a book.
Naturally.
"What is it?" Lillia asked.
Khan gestured toward her carriage. "I'd like to purchase two seats."
The guard actually laughed.
"Get in line."
Khan glanced toward the screaming crowd. "No."
The guard's expression hardened. "Then leave."
"5 gold."
Miriel nearly choked behind him.
The guard stared. "For two seats?"
"Correct."
"People are offering 30."
"I know."
"Then why would Lady Goldleaf accept five?"
Khan looked at Lillia rather than the guard.
"Because Lady Goldleaf just paid 17 gold for an 8-gold grimoire."
Silence.
The bookseller suddenly found the pavement fascinating.
Lillia's sapphire eyes sharpened. Not offended. Interested.
"Fifteen," she corrected.
"Seventeen including the bag."
Her lips twitched. "You were watching."
"The book has teeth."
"That is what made it interesting."
"Exactly. Which tells me you're not particularly motivated by getting the best possible price."
The guard stepped forward.
Khan raised one hand. "I'm not insulting her."
"You are doing an impressive imitation."
"I'm saying 50 gold doesn't interest her."
Lillia smiled. "Go on."
"You already have the carriage. The horses are already moving. Your guards are already being paid. Two additional passengers create almost no additional cost."
"Weight," Lillia said.
"Negligible."
"Food."
"We have our own."
Miriel looked at the crate of Sunfruits as one twitched.
Technically true.
"Risk," Lillia said.
"There we have something worth negotiating."
She studied him. "What risk?"
Khan smiled pleasantly. "We're artifact researchers."
[Plural?]
Miriel slowly turned toward him.
Khan refused to look at her.
"Both of you?" Lillia asked.
"She's my assistant."
Miriel's head snapped toward him.
[International incident probability increasing.]
Lillia noticed.
"Your assistant doesn't appear pleased with her position."
"Labor dispute."
"I am going to kill you," Miriel whispered.
Lillia laughed, and it sounded genuine enough that Khan filed it away as useful information too.
"We're traveling east," he continued. "We need two seats until the next safe settlement. 5 gold."
"Still absurdly low."
"Yes."
"Why should I accept?"
Khan looked at the chained grimoire in her arms. It snapped at him. He leaned slightly away.
"Because you bought a cursed book during an evacuation."
Her eyebrows rose. "And?"
"Which means you're interested in unusual artifacts."
Lillia became very still.
Khan knew that stillness. He had seen it across negotiating tables more times than he could count: the moment someone realized you had something they wanted.
He didn't possess an artifact.
But he possessed information.
Or at least the ability to manufacture the appearance of it.
"You bought that grimoire without knowing what it is," Khan said.
Lillia's smile faded slightly. The bookseller attempted to leave quietly.
Khan pointed at the book.
"I can tell you."
That was a magnificent, irresponsible and possibly fatal bluff.
[Scanning...]
Khan waited.
The System remained silent.
Come on.
[Object scanning unavailable.]
His soul briefly left his body.
You can identify Nightfall.
[Nightfall was associated with Miriel's personal data.]
You useless bastard.
[I prefer specialized.]
Lillia watched him. "Well?"
Khan looked at the grimoire.
The grimoire looked back.
Khan had not previously realized books could look smug.
Then it opened its mouth.
Inside the cover, behind two rows of tiny teeth, three unfamiliar symbols repeated in a pattern. He couldn't read them.
Miriel could.
Her breath caught, so quietly that most people would have missed it.
Khan didn't.
Neither did Lillia.
He glanced sideways at Miriel, and she understood at once.
For all her social incompetence, she was not stupid.
"Interesting," Miriel murmured.
Lillia turned toward her. "You recognize it?"
Miriel stepped closer without letting her hood slip.
"Perhaps."
Khan nearly smiled.
There she was.
Not the lost girl from the fruit stall, but a princess raised among courts where a badly chosen word could start wars.
Lillia's interest sharpened.
"5 gold," Khan repeated, "and we examine the grimoire during the journey."
Lillia looked from him to Miriel, then down at the book trying to bite her.
Behind them, another long horn blast sounded.
Everyone in the square went silent.
A city mage standing atop the eastern gate shouted, "STORM FRONT, TWENTY MINUTES!"
Panic exploded again.
Lillia sighed.
"3 gold."
Khan blinked.
So did Miriel.
Even the guard looked confused.
"You offered 5," Lillia said. "I'm offering 3."
Khan stared at her.
This was deeply offensive, not financially but professionally.
"You are negotiating in the wrong direction."
"I told you," Lillia said cheerfully. "I'm generous."
[Counterparty has defeated host.]
She has not.
[Original offer: 5 gold.]
[Final price: 3 gold.]
That's not defeat.
[You were out-negotiated by someone attempting to make less money.]
Khan felt a headache forming.
Lillia extended one gloved hand. "3 gold. 2 seats. You examine my grimoire."
Khan considered the storm, Miriel, the Goldleaf insignia and the offer.
3 gold for two seats through a guarded gate in the middle of an evacuation was objectively excellent and subjectively humiliating.
He shook her hand.
"Deal."
[Trade completed.]
[Host profit: Approximately not dying.]
[Counterparty profit: 2 gold less than host voluntarily offered.]
[Conclusion: Incarnation of Avarice requires additional training.]
Khan closed his eyes.
Miriel was smiling again.
He pointed at her without looking. "Don't."
"I said nothing."
"You were about to."
"I was not."
"You absolutely were."
Lillia looked between them. "I think I'm going to enjoy this journey."
Khan opened his eyes. "No."
The grimoire bit Lillia's sleeve.
She pulled it away.
"Definitely."
Behind them, violet lightning struck somewhere beyond the western wall. The ground shook. A flock of black shapes rose above the rooftops, and people screamed.
The carriage driver snapped the reins.
"Lady Goldleaf!"
Lillia took the bag from her guard, slipped the grimoire inside and climbed aboard. Miriel followed, clutching the crate of Sunfruits beneath her cloak.
Khan put one foot on the carriage step, then stopped to look back.
The city had turned purple beneath the approaching storm, the enormous wall of cloud now swallowing half the sky.
For 3 days, this place had been his entire world. He knew perhaps six streets, one market, one apothecary and one fruit merchant.
Now he was leaving with no destination, documents or real profession.
Beside him rode a demon princess who believed he might be part of a prophecy. Across from him sat the daughter of one of the region's most powerful merchants, with a carnivorous book in a thick cloth bag on her lap. And somewhere inside Khan's skull lived an entity whose primary supernatural function appeared to be criticizing his career choices.
He climbed into the carriage.
The System chimed.
[Journey party updated.]
[Miriel: Fugitive Demon Princess.]
[Lillia Goldleaf: Merchant Heiress.]
[Khan: Unemployed.]
Khan stared at the final line.
Change that.
[Artifact Researcher?]
Yes.
A pause.
[Fraudulent Artifact Researcher.]
Khan sank into the seat. "I should have taken the bunker."
Miriel looked toward the rapidly disappearing city walls.
"No, you shouldn't have."
The carriage passed beneath the eastern gate without inspection or questions. The guards saw the golden leaf painted on its door and simply waved it through.
Exactly as Khan had predicted.
He watched the gate shrink behind them, then turned his attention to Lillia, her guards and the Goldleaf insignia.
His irritation slowly faded.
A wealthy merchant family meant trade routes, capital, information and connections. Khan had arrived in this world with nothing. Three days later, opportunity was sitting directly across from him.
The System appeared.
[Host is staring at Lillia Goldleaf.]
[Clarification requested: Romantic interest or financial predation?]
Financial.
[Immediate response.]
[Concerning.]
Khan looked out the window at the Corrupt Storm devouring the western horizon.
He smiled.
Markets existed everywhere.
Apparently, so did rich people with questionable spending habits.
Perhaps this world wasn't completely hopeless.