In the central residential district, at the outermost courtyard, stood a Byzantine-style house with subtle European influences.
Though not particularly large, the house boasted a spacious courtyard, exuding an air of refinement both inside and out.
However, the overgrown weeds and moss-covered walls told a different story—this place had been abandoned for quite some time.
Once, such homes were exclusive to the nobility.
Even the lowest-ranking aristocrats could once afford to live here.
That was, of course, before the Blood Emperor ascended the throne.
The courtyard lay empty and still—
Until, suddenly—
"Roar!"
A deep, guttural snarl broke the silence, but its lack of strength made it sound hollow and weak.
The source?
An ogre.
Standing roughly two and a half meters tall, this particular specimen was relatively small for an adult troll.
But its movements were unnatural.
It was bound tightly to a sturdy stone chair, its head thrashing wildly, yet its massive body remained still—save for the occasional, involuntary twitch.
This peculiar condition was proof that it had suffered severe trauma—one that left only its head mobile while rendering the rest of its body completely paralyzed.
"Again?"
Sakeer sighed lightly.
"That roar could attract unwanted attention."
Stepping out from behind the ogre, he casually examined the two blood-soaked bones in his hands.
They were cervical vertebrae—recently removed from the ogre's spine.
Ogres possessed exceptional regenerative abilities, making them difficult to kill.
While this injury wouldn't be fatal, it effectively severed control over the body, leaving only the head functional.
Satisfied, Sakeer tossed the vertebrae toward the little Barghest that had been waiting eagerly.
The creature lunged forward, snapping both bones in a single bite.
"Chew slowly."
Sakeer reminded the creature absently.
"You won't get another for five days."
Then, he bent down and retrieved the rag that had fallen to the ground, stuffing it back into the ogre's mouth.
The muffled roars came to an abrupt halt.
He would have to repeat this process every few days—removing the vertebrae again before the ogre's healing abilities kicked in.
His gaze shifted toward the little Barghest, now happily gnawing on the ogre's bones.
Its body had grown significantly—far faster than he had anticipated.
When they left E-Rantel a month ago, the creature had barely reached his calf.
Now?
It stood above his knees, its body length exceeding 80 centimeters—and radiating an undeniable aura of danger.
Yes.
Sakeer had left E-Rantel on July 18.
It had now been over a month since he arrived in the Baharuth Empire.
Today was—
The Month of Mid-Fire.
August 20.
And so far—
The operation had been a failure.
The Rockbruise family had long since exiled the cursed and disfigured Leinas.
This scandal had caused some ripples within the empire.
Initially, Sakeer had planned to use the Adventurer's Guild intelligence network to track down Leinas.
But—
Even the guild had no record of her whereabouts.
After being cast out, it was as if Leinas had vanished off the face of the earth.
Sakeer had spent half a month chasing leads, yet found nothing—not even the faintest trace.
A complete dead end.
But Leinas wasn't his only target.
Sakeer had come to the Baharuth Empire for two reasons:
To find the "Cursed Knight" profession.To seek the path of an "Immortal."
Leinas—missing.
Fluder—within reach, yet unreachable.
Unlike Leinas, Fluder's whereabouts were well known.
But that led to an even bigger problem—
Who was Fluder?
More importantly—what was his status?
The gap between their identities was vast.
Forget obtaining Fluder's profession—even getting a chance to meet him seemed impossible.
The only person in the entire empire who could freely summon Fluder was the Blood Emperor Jircniv.
Even he couldn't meet Fluder whenever he pleased.
Faced with such an impasse, Sakeer realized—
He needed to change his strategy.
Thus, in the latter half of the month, he shifted his focus.
He began producing low-cost alchemy potions—selling them rapidly to make a name for himself in the shortest time possible.
And to add fuel to the fire—
He deliberately spread a rumor.
A claim that he could create an alchemy potion capable of healing any injury.
Sakeer left the struggling troll behind and walked over to a stone table nearby, settling into the seat with a slight frown. A hint of frustration flickered across his face.
"I've wasted an entire month… Will this plan even work?"
If the fish never took the bait—
Then there was no point in waiting indefinitely.
He couldn't afford to linger here forever.
Sou!
A shadow leaped over the courtyard wall, landing with fluid precision.
Draped in a black robe, the figure took only a moment to locate Sakeer, then strode purposefully toward him.
With each step—
The hem of the cloak parted slightly, revealing brown boots and a slender frame clad in light leather armor, the attire of a guerrilla fighter.
The figure's head remained covered by a hooded cloak, making it impossible to see their face.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself, living alone in such a big courtyard."
A cold, detached voice broke the silence.
"Roar!"
At Sakeer's feet, the little Barghest immediately dropped the bones it had been chewing on and sprang to its feet, fixing a fierce gaze on the intruder.
"I paid fifty gold for a month's rent," Sakeer replied calmly, meeting the cloaked figure's gaze.
"Quiet place, good location, patrolling soldiers—seems worth it."
He leaned back slightly, flashing a subtle smile.
"By the way, could you try using the front entrance next time?"
Since Blood Emperor Jircniv's rise to power, countless "inactive" nobles had been purged.
Not just minor aristocrats, but even some of the top-ranking noble families had been wiped out.
This led to many abandoned residences.
Some small noble houses, struggling with financial ruin, could no longer afford basic daily expenses. Yet, in a desperate bid to maintain their dignity, they resorted to incurring massive debts.
On the surface, these mansions still belonged to the nobility, but in reality, many had already fallen into the hands of wealthy merchants.
"You do realize there are a lot of eyes on you right now?"
The cloaked figure didn't hesitate to fire back.
Then, beneath the shadow of the hood, a pair of sharp, narrow eyes emerged—
Their natural softness was undercut by the intensity of their glare, making them appear almost menacing.
Their gaze locked onto the little Barghest, unimpressed.
"And what's with this little mutt? This isn't my first visit."
Sakeer shrugged, his smile unfaltering.
"Maybe it doesn't like being called names."
He paused, watching the standoff between the two.
"Or maybe… it just dislikes you more."
"Hmph."
The slender figure scoffed, but didn't back down.
"The feeling is mutual."
Then, as if to make a point, they glared at the Barghest again.
The creature bared its fangs in response, its low growl filling the courtyard.
Sakeer exhaled, suppressing a chuckle.
Even arguing with a dog… if this were my past life, you'd definitely be labeled a 'rebuttal personality.'
As the slender figure stepped closer, they finally shed the black robe, letting it fall away.
Beneath it stood a woman—
Her violet hair, tied into twin ponytails, framed a face of icy indifference.
But what stood out most—
Were the pointed ears protruding from beneath her hair.
A sign that she wasn't human.
She was—
A half-elf.
Imina.
(End of Chapter)