Kaiser was currently puzzled over the sight of a woman at the counter, who, after purchasing several hefty books, simply tucked them all into a delicate little pouch at her hip. The bag didn't swell, didn't sag, just gleamed at her side as if the stack of tomes had never existed.

Kaiser's thoughts whirred. 'Another trick of this world, or of Glunko himself perhaps?' He recalled the impossible carriage from Arkhold—the one that defied all logic with its spacious insides and endless storage. Was Glunko the source of this phenomenon, or was such magic commonplace here, like bread and salt?

His thoughts fractured as a sudden, sharp scream cut through the Emporium.

Kaiser's head snapped up. Across the shop, a woman in a shopkeeper's uniform had fallen to the floor, scrambling backward. Looming over her was the most grotesque figure he had seen since waking in this new world—a giant of a man, tall enough that even Kaiser would have to tilt his head to meet his gaze. His skin was the sallow green of rotting leaves, blotched with bulbous blisters and angry red zits, and he wore battered chainmail and rags under a cracked leather hood. His mask, more a slab of old iron than a faceplate, hung crooked over his lower jaw, and a battered scythe gleamed at his back.

Strangely, there was no stench of decay. But the visual assault was enough: filth crusted his gauntlets, and his eyes, orange and fever-bright, bulged from beneath his hood.

The giant snarled, his voice a grinding rasp. "WHERE IS GLUNKO!? I'm not waiting another day for that worm to crawl back here!" His fist slammed down on the counter, sending a shudder through the displays.

Around him, two men stood guard, each human, shorter and dressed in similar rags and battered leather, eyes scanning the shelves and the scattering crowd. Their faces, while ordinary, were marked with the bored cruelty of men used to being in control when their leader lost patience.

"Oi, boss," grunted one, the shorter of the two, glancing nervously at the growing audience, "Let's just take what we need. She can't do a thing. You want Glunko, you leave a message, yeah?"

The other, bigger and with a jagged scar across his brow, sneered at the girl on the floor. "You heard him. Where's the old frog hiding? Don't tell me he's run off and left the lot of you to rot."

The woman tried to scramble away, shaking, the orange light around her flickering like a dying candle. "He'll be back soon, I swear—he never misses a shipment, please, sir—if you touch anything, the security glyphs will—"

"Shut up!" the giant roared, spittle flying from his ruined mouth. His aura burned, blindingly orange, so bright that even Kaiser had to shield his senses for a moment. "Do you think I care about glyphs? I waited two weeks, and the last batch you handed over was half the weight it should've been! Is Glunko trying to cheat me? Or are you, girl?"

The shopkeeper shrank, pressing herself against a display of enchanted baubles. "No—no, I swear on the Liberatorium, sir, the weight was counted, it's all recorded—"

The giant's hand shot forward, lifting her by the collar with one meaty fist. She dangled in the air, boots scraping at nothing. Tears pricked at her eyes.

The first thug took a step forward, voice suddenly coaxing. "Come on, love. Just tell us where Glunko is hiding, and the boss here won't have to mess up that pretty face of yours. We're only here for what we're owed."

Kaiser watched, eyes narrowing. Around the trio, nervous customers backed away, not daring to intervene. Ivan hovered at Kaiser's side, pale but silent, clearly waiting for a cue.

The second thug spat on the floor, scowling. "I'm sick of this frog shop, always pulling tricks. Just smash the counter, boss. If the glyphs go off, we'll handle it."

The giant laughed, low and ugly, the sound echoing through the Emporium. "You hear that, girl? Your luck's running out. Maybe I'll take the cost in gold, or maybe I'll take it in blood. Either way, Glunko's gonna pay, one way or another."

The shopkeeper whimpered, clutching at the giant's wrist. "Please—he'll be back, I promise—don't hurt me, please, sir, I'll lose my job—"

"You'll lose something else first," growled the giant, drawing her closer so his blistered face loomed inches from hers.

Kaiser noticed Ivan tense beside him again, fingers twitching toward his belt where a knife was concealed. With great subtlety, Kaiser reached out and gripped Ivan's wrist firmly, halting any rash action. He didn't speak, but the message was clear enough: Not yet.

The woman's tears welled even more, but somehow her voice found a desperate strength. "Please, I promise you, sir—I'm not lying. Master Glunko would never disclose such details to me. He values discretion above all else."

The giant's laughter turned bitter, the sound twisted and ugly as it echoed through the shelves. "Discretion? From that old fraud? Don't make me laugh." His free hand dropped toward the scythe strapped to his back, fingers brushing its haft in a not-so-subtle threat. "Maybe a bit of motivation will loosen that tight tongue of yours."

The two human companions sneered at the woman's distress. The tension in the Emporium thickened; the crowd shrank back, eyes wide and uncertain, as if waiting for a storm to break.

Kaiser, measured the situation in a heartbeat, but he did not move. He needed more information before acting; but he also knew he couldn't let things escalate much further. Not without drawing the kind of attention he wanted to avoid.

Just as the giant's grip tightened and the atmosphere reached its breaking point, a new voice cut through the tension: calm, steady, and edged with quiet authority.

"Gentlemen," a calm, steady voice suddenly spoke up from behind the counter. The elderly woman Kaiser had observed earlier stepped forward, posture straight and dignified despite the trembling in her hands. "Threatening my staff will achieve nothing. Master Glunko will return when he is ready, and not a moment sooner. If you have business with him, patience is your only option."

The grotesque man slowly turned his head toward her, his masked face unreadable but his tone dripping with menace. "And who might you be, hag, to speak so boldly?"

"I am the manager of this store," she replied calmly, her voice carrying quiet strength. "And as Master Glunko's representative in his absence, I kindly suggest you leave and await proper correspondence."

The masked man scoffed loudly, a sound of pure contempt. "Proper correspondence? Do you think letters will fix the insult your master dealt us? Do you think paper and ink will mend broken trust and repay lost debts?"

One of the human thugs stepped closer to the elderly woman, his voice dangerously low. "We're not the patient type. Perhaps we need to send your dear Master Glunko a more… memorable message."

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Kaiser's mind was deep in rapid calculation when he suddenly noticed the wrist he'd held belonged not to Ivan, but to a dissipating clone. His heart skipped, eyes darting to the unfolding disaster. Ivan himself was stepping forward, directly between the trembling older woman and the grotesque giant, his posture defiant, head raised high.

"Back off and get out of this store," Ivan snapped, voice steady despite the obvious tremor in his hands.

For a heartbeat, Kaiser considered abandoning Ivan. The boy's foolishness jeopardized everything. He had been fully prepared to sacrifice the two women to keep his own anonymity intact, knowing full well that his strategic advantage depended heavily on remaining unnoticed.

Yet now, Ivan's reckless bravery had forced Kaiser's hand. He weighed the situation swiftly. Celestine was a woman guided by compassion; if Ivan died under Kaiser's watch, especially in the heart of the Liberatorium, it would tarnish his newly formed reputation irreparably. Reluctantly, Kaiser moved forward, muscles tense, ready to intervene.

The two thugs glanced at each other, then erupted into harsh laughter, the shorter man pointing mockingly at Ivan. "Well, look at that! A whole shop full of grown-ups, and it's the kid who's got the guts!"

"Figures," sneered the scarred companion, his eyes glittering cruelly. "Only children are stupid enough to stick their necks out when it ain't their business."

The giant's masked face turned slowly to regard Ivan, his orange eyes narrowing dangerously, an unsettling hunger burning within them. "You must be mad, boy," he rasped, voice dripping with sickening amusement. "A lunatic fan of the Seventh Hope, perhaps?"

Ivan did not flinch. Instead, he took a defiant step forward, fists clenched at his sides. "The innocent will always be safe as long as I'm around," he declared firmly, voice rising slightly with passion. The thugs barked with laughter again, mocking openly.

"Oh, this one's a real hero!" the shorter man jeered, elbowing his companion in the ribs.

Ivan's voice grew sharper, more resolute. "And evil… must die."

There was a brief silence before both thugs exploded into raucous, contemptuous laughter. The scarred man, still chuckling darkly, stepped forward and mockingly gestured to his grotesque leader. "Boy, allow me to introduce you to a real Saint-Ranked Liberator. This is the infamous Margalod the Motherless Son, beloved child of the Syndicate!"

Margalod raised a blistered hand, instantly silencing his subordinates. His gaze was now locked onto Ivan's face, and Kaiser saw clearly the shift in the giant's demeanor. He recognized something—a familiar coldness, a readiness in Ivan's eyes. Margalod sighed heavily, almost wearily. "Actually, this works out perfectly. Nothing sends a clearer message to that frog than a child's corpse. Either he crawls out from his hole or watches his precious business crumble."

With a brutal elegance that betrayed a terrifying mastery, Margalod swung his scythe from his back. Rust and decay cascaded from its blade, scattering like vile snowflakes as he hefted it effortlessly. Ivan tensed, eyes wide but resolute.

"Die knowing you made a difference," Margalod growled, and with a terrifying roar of motion, the blade cleaved through the air, the sheer force behind it shaking the Emporium to its very foundations.

Ivan's hand had barely closed around the phantom shape of a weapon that wasn't there when the scythe swept down. Margalod's attack was too fast for any ordinary man, an arc of death born from monstrous strength and a lifetime spent cleaving through lesser resistance. Ivan braced himself, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut—but the blow never landed.

Instead, an impossible thunder echoed through the Emporium. The scythe stopped dead, a mere handspan from Ivan's head, the blade trembling in the stale air. The floor cracked beneath the impact, fissures spidering out from two sets of boots—one green, one black.

Kaiser stood between Ivan and Margalod, his right hand gripping the giant's elbow with fingers that dug through chainmail and flesh, halting the monstrous swing as if pinning a striking viper to the earth. Kaiser's hair snapped behind him, eyes hard and steady.

For an instant, the entire world was reduced to a single contest of will and bone-shattering strength. Margalod snarled, pushing forward, his muscles bunching, zits exploding into grime, trying to force the blow through. Kaiser met the force with a cold, measured calm, every sinew of his body taut, refusing to give an inch.

The floor groaned under the strain. Margalod's eyes widened, a gleam of surprise flickering there. No one had stopped him like this before.

Ivan could only stare, shock and awe written on his face. The shop had gone silent, save for the grinding sound of Kaiser's fingers digging in, the scythe shuddering above the boy's head.

Margalod's jaw worked under his iron mask. "Who in all the drowned hells are you?" he grated, voice rough as gravel.

Kaiser's lips quirked, the faintest ghost of a smile flickering across his face. "A customer," he replied softly, almost pleasant. "And I prefer not to be disturbed while shopping."

One of Margalod's thugs barked a harsh laugh, only half believing what he was seeing. "You gonna let that slide, boss? Some fancy boy playing hero?"

The other stepped forward, voice mocking. "Careful, mate—he might be one of those celebrity types! Maybe we'll see your face on the billboards next, eh?"

Margalod ignored them. He shifted his grip on the scythe, testing Kaiser's hold. The muscles in his forearm bulged, veins pulsing beneath diseased skin. "You've got a strong grip, stranger," he said, voice low and dangerous. "But you're out of your depth. Step aside before I decide to add you to the tally."

Kaiser's eyes glinted with cold amusement. He didn't move, didn't flinch. Instead, he adjusted his grip, turning the block into a vice, locking Margalod's elbow in a painful twist. Margalod's arm shook, the scythe shuddering with the effort to free it. For a split second, pain flashed across the giant's face, like a reminder that even monsters bleed.

With monstrous calm, Kaiser leaned in slightly, voice pitched so only Margalod could hear. "No one beats me in a contest of strength. Not now. Not ever."

Margalod's nostrils flared, and for a moment the tension hung razor-thin. All eyes in the Emporium were on them. But then, with a grunt of reluctant respect, Margalod eased off, letting his arm relax. Kaiser released him at the exact same moment, the scythe falling to Margalod's side.

"You've made your point," Margalod said, rubbing his elbow, a mix of annoyance and grudging approval in his tone.

Ivan let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, sagging slightly behind Kaiser's back. The elderly manager edged forward, relief flooding her face, but she was wise enough to stay silent.

Kaiser didn't step away; he held his ground, fixing Margalod with a steady gaze. "There's no need for any more trouble today. Master Glunko had an incident in Arkhold, a certain trouble with the Kingsguard. He's delayed. Come back in a week, and your business will be handled. No need to break anything. Nor is there any need to ruin this floor with your blood."

Margalod's thugs started to protest, voices overlapping in a tangle of curses and suspicion.

"Bullshit! The frog always has excuses—"

"He's playing you, boss! Look at this guy, he—"

But Margalod silenced them with a single raised hand. He stared at Kaiser for a long moment, weighing him, searching for weakness or deceit. Finally, he nodded, slow and deliberate.

"A week, then," he rumbled. "But if Glunko isn't here… if he stiffs us again… there'll be no talking next time."

Kaiser's answer was a simple nod. He stepped forward and, with an almost casual motion, patted Margalod twice on the chest. Each touch carried a small shockwave, a ripple of force that made the giant stumble back half a step, surprise flickering across his ruined features.

Margalod grinned behind his mask, the sound more like a cough. "I'll remember you, stranger. You've got spine. Let's see if you've got brains to match."

He turned on his heel, barking an order to his men. "Out. We've wasted enough time."

The two thugs hesitated, muttering under their breath, but followed, shooting murderous looks at Ivan and Kaiser as they went.

As the trio left, the Emporium seemed to exhale, tension evaporating in a wave of relieved chatter. Shaken customers began to emerge from behind shelves and counters, casting wary, grateful glances at Kaiser and Ivan.

Ivan finally found his voice. "I… I thought I was dead. I really thought—" He stopped, swallowing hard, eyes wide.

Kaiser barely acknowledged him, his attention shifting to the older woman. "Manager. The shipment of whatever those men were looking for really was delayed. My best guess is that Arkhold is under strict martial law for now."

She bowed deeply, gratitude clear in every line of her face. "Thank you, sir. You may have saved more than one life today."

Kaiser shrugged. "That remains to be seen."

Ivan, gathering himself, shot Kaiser a shaky smile. "Guess I should say thanks, huh?"

"Don't make a habit of it," Kaiser replied, voice dry. "Next time, think before you disobey me."

Ivan grinned, sheepish but genuine. "Yeah. Sorry. It's just… you know. Couldn't let it happen."

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