Valemire looked like a dream wrapped in gold.
Towering spires gleamed in the sunlight, banners of crimson and ivory fluttered in the wind, and every street smelled faintly of mana-infused perfume. Merchants shouted deals, nobles strutted in polished boots, and guards in silver armor patrolled like they owned the place.
Cass leaned out the wagon, whistling. "Yo… look at this place. The dirt here's cleaner than my old house."
Lynx flicked her tail, unimpressed. "That's not saying much."
"Still! Shiny rocks, fancy people, no bandits? It's paradise."
Rowan just stared ahead, quiet. "Paradise doesn't need this many guards."
As they rolled through the gate, they passed a huge banner stretched across the archway — the golden phoenix crest, wings spread wide. Underneath it, the royal motto glimmered in the sunlight:
"Obedience is Peace."
Lynx's ears twitched. "That's… unsettling."
Cass grinned nervously. "Nah, sounds totally normal. Definitely not cult behavior."
The city was divided by color — literally. Golden streets and clean fountains in the noble district, but the deeper they went, the more the shine faded. The cobblestones cracked, the air thickened with smoke, and the people… stopped smiling.
They parked the wagon near a guild post in the Mercenary Quarter, where adventurers and bounty hunters swarmed like flies. The guild's emblem, a silver scale, hung over the door.
Cass jumped off first, stretching. "Home sweet home, boys and beast."
Lynx gave him a death glare. "Call me 'beast' again and I'll show you what home sweet home tastes like."
"Noted," Cass said quickly.
Inside, the guild buzzed with noise — bounty boards filled with monster notices, mercs boasting about their kills, and clerks arguing over pay rates. A massive ledger hung behind the counter, listing every active party in Valemire.
A bored-looking receptionist raised a brow as Rowan approached. "Name and party?"
"The Outlaws," Rowan said.
That got her attention. "New party, huh? You'll need to register your rank. Since you're fresh, that's E-Class. You'll take low-risk hunts until you earn enough merit points."
Cass groaned. "E-Class? That's, like, rat-hunting level."
"Or slime wrangling," Lynx teased.
"Don't say slime," Cass muttered. "They haunt me."
The receptionist handed them a brass tag stamped with their crest. "Welcome to the Guild. Try not to die."
"Great customer service," Cass mumbled.
They spent the next hour exploring — the guild's weapon market, the crystal exchange, even the bulletin for royal jobs (which all mysteriously paid too well). Rowan noticed one thing: every shop, every trade, every guild note had a tiny phoenix insignia somewhere on it.
Even the food stalls.
Lynx frowned. "This city's too organized. Like it's all owned by one person."
Rowan nodded slowly. "It is."
Cass blinked. "Wait, what do you mean?"
Rowan pointed at a distant tower — gold-tipped, glimmering like a flame. "That's the Phoenix Estate. They control the guild, the trade routes, even the mana market. If it's sold in Valemire, it's theirs."
Cass made a face. "So we're basically working for the people your dad was fighting?"
"Yeah." Rowan's voice was flat. "And they don't even know it yet."
Just as they were about to leave the market, a commotion broke out near the main square. A group of guards dragged a man into the open — a ragged worker, struggling in chains.
"By order of the Phoenix Family!" one of the guards barked. "This man is guilty of rebellion and theft!"
The crowd murmured. Some pitied him. Most just looked away.
Cass frowned. "Rebellion? Dude's wearing half a shoe."
Then the guard raised his arm — and the worker screamed. A glowing rune burned across his chest, searing through his clothes. The same mark Darian had shown them.
A slave pact.
Rowan's blood ran cold.
The man collapsed, twitching as smoke rose from his skin. The guards dragged him off without another word, the crowd quickly dispersing as if nothing happened.
Cass looked pale. "That was… messed up."
Lynx whispered, "So this is peace."
Rowan clenched his fists. "No. This is control."
They returned to the wagon at dusk, the city lights glimmering like stars made of gold. Cass tried to lighten the mood. "Hey, on the bright side, we didn't die today."
Lynx smirked faintly. "Yet."
Rowan didn't respond. His mind was stuck on the burning rune.
Darian's scar.
His sister.
And the family that caused it all.
As night fell, Valemire sparkled beautifully from afar — but beneath that light, the shadows were getting darker.