In the outermost ring of the Central Residential District sat a two-courtyard home.
The building was an intriguing blend of Byzantine and European architectural styles. Though the house itself wasn't large, it boasted a surprisingly spacious courtyard.
The entire place exuded a certain refined elegance—well, it would have, if not for the wild overgrowth of weeds in the yard and the thick layer of moss clinging to the base of the surrounding walls. Clearly, this estate had been abandoned for some time.
In the Imperial Capital, such a stylish residence would once have been well beyond the reach of commoners. These were noble homes—exclusive domains of the upper class.
Well, that was before the Bloody Emperor took the throne.
In the wide-open courtyard—
"Raaagh!" A hoarse, guttural roar echoed out, though the voice lacked any real strength.
The source? An ogre.
Standing about two and a half meters tall, it was on the shorter side for its kind. At present, it was tied tightly to a heavy stone chair. Its massive head thrashed left and right, but its bulky body didn't move an inch, save for the occasional involuntary twitch.
It was a strange sight—an ogre seemingly paralyzed except for its head.
A clear sign it had suffered some kind of serious trauma. Likely something that disrupted its nervous system without actually killing it.
"Dropped again. And all that yelling's bound to attract attention eventually…"
Lyle stepped out from behind the ogre, letting out a small sigh. In his gloved hands, he held two bloody bones roughly the size of fists.
They were cervical vertebrae—clearly torn straight from the ogre's neck.
Severe damage to the spinal cord. The ogre's innate regenerative abilities were impressive, but not enough to restore full motor function. The injury wouldn't kill it, but it would keep it paralyzed—only its head still functioning.
Plop!
Lyle tossed the two vertebrae casually onto the ground near a waiting creature.
A black-furred little hellhound eagerly snapped up the bones in one bite.
"Don't gobble them down so fast," Lyle muttered. "Next round isn't for another five days."
The little Barghest gave a happy yip, tail wagging as it crunched on the bone. Meanwhile, Lyle retrieved a filthy rag from the ground and stuffed it back into the ogre's mouth. The roaring cut off instantly.
Thanks to the ogre's high-speed regeneration, Lyle had to harvest its spine about every five days to keep it immobilized. A gruesome routine—but an effective one.
He glanced at the Barghest again. The creature had grown noticeably since they left E-Rantel a month ago. When they departed, the pup's head barely reached his knee. Now, it was up past his kneecap.
Eighty centimeters long, packed with muscle, and finally giving off that distinct aura of danger unique to monsters.
Yup, he was thriving.
Lyle had left E-Rantel on July 18th. Now, it was August 20th—middle of the Fire Month. Over a month had passed since he'd arrived in the Baharuth Empire.
And things… were not going well.
The noble house of Rockbruise had already exiled Leinas after her disfigurement and curse. That alone caused quite a stir in the Empire.
Lyle's original plan was to use the Adventurer Guild's intelligence network to locate her.
But—
Even the Guild had no clue where she'd gone. Ever since her exile, she'd vanished like a ghost.
He'd followed every lead he could find—chasing down rumors, searching high and low. But nothing. Not even a glimpse.
Half a month wasted.
His main goals for coming to the Empire were simple: the class of [Cursed Knight], and the class of [Immortal Sage].
Leinas was tied to one. Fluder to the other.
But Fluder? Well… he was a problem.
The man wasn't just some wandering sage—he was the Empire's Grand Magic Caster. Lyle was, frankly, a nobody. The difference in status was so vast, it wasn't even funny.
Forget acquiring a class—Lyle couldn't even get an appointment.
The only person in the entire Empire with easy access to Fluder was Emperor Jircniv himself. And even he couldn't always see him on demand.
Clearly, a new strategy was needed.
And so—
For the past half month, Lyle had been manufacturing cheap alchemical potions and selling them en masse. His goal? Make a name for himself as fast as possible.
He even started spreading rumors that he could brew potions capable of healing any wound.
The classic bait.
But so far, no fish had bitten.
Lyle left the ogre behind and slumped into a stone chair nearby, rubbing his temples with a frown. "A whole month… and I'm still not sure this fishing plan is going to work."
If no one bit soon—
He couldn't afford to just sit around waiting forever.
Thump!
Suddenly, a black-robed figure vaulted over the wall and landed neatly in the courtyard.
Once the figure spotted Lyle, they strode over without hesitation.
As they walked, the front of their robe flared open slightly, revealing brown high boots and a slender frame clad in light leather armor—definitely a scout or rogue-type getup.
The figure's head was cloaked by a hood, their face hidden in shadow.
"What a luxury," came a cool, indifferent voice. "Living all alone in a big place like this."
Grrr...
The Barghest beside Lyle stood up abruptly, dropping its bone and baring its fangs at the intruder.
"Fifty gold a month," Lyle replied casually. "I'm paying fair rent."
"This kind of noble property? Quiet neighborhood, great location, Empire patrols nearby—what's not to love?"
He gave the newcomer a relaxed smile. "Though… would it kill you to use the front door for once?"
Ever since Emperor Jircniv's purge of the "idle and incompetent" aristocracy, many noble estates had been vacated or fallen into disrepair. Even some of the upper-class houses were repossessed or quietly sold to wealthy merchants.
So while many of these estates still bore noble names, their true owners had long since changed.
"You do realize a lot of people have their eyes on you right now, don't you?"
The slender figure rebuked him without ceremony. Under the hood, a pair of long, narrow eyes glared at the hellhound, which only growled louder in response.
"What's with this little mutt of yours? It's not like this is my first visit."
Lyle gave a helpless shrug. "Maybe he doesn't like being called 'mutt.' Or maybe he just really doesn't like you."
"Hmph."
The cloaked figure snorted. "Well, the feeling's mutual."
She shot another glare at the Barghest, who bared its teeth even more aggressively.
Lyle's mouth twitched.
That kind of combative personality… back on Earth, they'd slap a label on her and call it "oppositional defiant disorder."
As the mysterious visitor stepped closer, she finally tossed off the black cloak.
A woman with long, twin-tailed violet hair and a frosty expression stood before him. The most striking feature?
Her pointed ears.
She wasn't human.
A half-elf.
Her name was Imina.