Kaiser weaved through the chaotic sprawl of Arkhold's streets like a knife slipping through a slice of cake. His boots landed with precise rhythm on cobbled stone stained with a thousand different footsteps—some painted in sweat, others in ambition, and a rare few in blood. This was a city that had forgotten how to die, where magic spilled from rooftops like leaking ink and voices rose like steam from boiling pots of madness. To him, it felt less like a capital and more like a festering wound that had decided to wear a crown.

The scent of the place was unbearable. Sweet spices burned his nose. Perfumes battled with animal dung in an olfactory war that had no winners. Somewhere nearby, something mechanical chirped. Then something magical screamed. Then a bell rang for no reason at all. Kaiser's eye twitched. This wasn't a city—it was a migraine given architecture.

Then the paper hit his face.

He didn't flinch. He simply reached up, peeled it off with the slow, deliberate grace of a man who had killed people for lesser offenses, and stared at it like it had personally insulted his ancestors. "Mimo's Toe-Reading Boutique." Golden lettering. A smiling toe. Kaiser blinked once, then let the flyer fall from his fingers like the corpse of a failed idea. He watched it drift to the street, where it was immediately run over by a running child. 'Fitting.'

Another flyer descended. Then another. Kaiser batted them aside like gnats, and one tried to attach itself to his back. He tore it away and muttered, "This city is going to make me do something regrettable."

Yet, despite himself, he found his gaze wandering, not in wonder, but in strategy. The architecture curved like the place was designed by an artist having a nervous breakdown. Buildings leaned into the street like eavesdropping old men. One was entirely upside down. A clocktower rang twenty-seven times in a row and then fell silent. There were too many hiding places. Too many angles of approach. Too many eyes.

To his left, a merchant's stall shimmered with glass cages, each containing creatures carved from gemstone and moving with unnatural fluidity. A bird made of sapphire sang silently, its beak tapping the cage. A snake of black diamond stared at him. The merchant, coated in tattoos that moved across his skin like ink trying to escape, noticed his interest.

"Ah! You look like a man who understands value," the merchant purred. "Assassin pets. They don't bleed. They don't eat. They only obey."

Kaiser gave the man a look that could silence thunderstorms. "If I need something that doesn't bleed, I'll use a rock." And he moved on.

He barely sidestepped a man who was chasing a flying coin, screaming obscenities in full plate armor. The coin juked midair. Kaiser didn't blink. A child was next, chasing a sentient cookie that refused to be eaten. A floating lantern was arguing with its owner about its political beliefs. Kaiser felt his blood pressure rising to levels that would make a lesser man pass out.

Another stall flashed into his vision. A woman cloaked in living water beckoned him toward clothes that moved on their own. "Slip through a crowd like a shadow," she whispered. "Dress like the sea."

Kaiser didn't slow. "The sea is loud, inconsistent, and full of things that drown you. No thanks."

He tried to disappear into the crowd, but it was like trying to vanish in a burning theater. Every corner had another pitch. Another scam. A cursed object. A riddle disguised as a sale. A sword that sang. A staff that judged you. A talking goat arguing with its owner about wages.

Eventually, an old man appeared in front of him holding a box.

"For you," he rasped.

"No," Kaiser said, not even looking.

"It's a mystery," the man added, voice dripping with implication.

"So is the extent of my patience."

The box vibrated. Something inside it tapped—tap, tap, tap—like a heartbeat trying to escape. Kaiser didn't stop walking. He felt the old man's grin follow him like a curse. And then, because this city wasn't done punishing him, another paper hit him in the face.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, the kind of breath you take before doing something permanent. "One more enchanted flyer," he murmured, "and I will burn this city to its foundations."

"Ah! My good sir!"

Kaiser closed his eyes. "No."

"You look like a man in need of answers!"

"I need silence."

But the man was already yanking a black cloth off an orb.

"The Orb of Absolute Truth!" he announced. It hovered. It pulsed. It glowed with mystery.

Kaiser stared at it. "What does it cost?"

"Just a question."

He exhaled. "Fine. How do I get people to leave me alone?"

The orb shimmered. Glowed. Then displayed one word: "Die."

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There was a long silence.

Kaiser nodded slowly. "At least it's honest." And without another word, he turned and walked away, the merchant's desperate apology following him like the buzz of a dying insect.

His boots hammered the stone as he cut through the noise, through the absurdity, through the entire maddening mess of Arkhold. His hair, perfect and straight flowed behind him like a war banner. He looked like a king passing through a madhouse, the only sane man in a carnival of lunatics. And even then, he wasn't sure how sane he still was.

"Gods, this city is cursed," he muttered, tossing the flyer aside like the corpse of a failed assassin. His hand twitched toward the hilt of a sword that wasn't there, muscles tensing as if his body still believed he could draw steel and end the madness with clean violence. 'No more scams. No more weirdos. No more—'

"Ah! You there, sir with the magnificent hair!"

Kaiser stopped. The world stopped. His glare turned slowly, deliberate and lethal, like a guillotine blade rising in eerie silence. His eyes narrowed with such ice-cold finality that the vendor actually flinched.

"If you try to sell me one more thing," he said in a low voice that cut like a knife through flesh, "I swear I will find the most cursed object in this damned maze, shove it up your nose, activate it, and watch you implode from every dimension."

A pause. An awkward silence fell, heavy and afraid. Then, laughter—familiar, wheezing, unapologetic. The kind of laugh that sounded like it had never known shame.

"Hahaha! Kaiser, my boy, you wound me!"

Kaiser blinked once. then twice. And then he saw him: the wide-brimmed hat, the ridiculous curled mustache, the glinting, rotund form of a godless toad that smelled like pipe smoke and charisma.

"Of course," Kaiser muttered, eyeing the toad merchant like an unpaid debt returning with interest. "You're in a place like this." Glunkos arms spread wide like a conquering general embracing a long-lost city. Beside him, Aria loomed, as poised and unreadable as ever, her fingers resting on Glunko's sleeve like a bored soldier waiting for her next assignment.

"How long has it been?"

"You were gone for, like, an hour," Aria said, voice flatter than a table.

"Time moves differently when the sky tries to kidnap you," Kaiser muttered, brushing enchanted residue off his shoulder. "One flyer tried to teleport me to a toe-reading salon. I don't know what offends me more—its confidence or its target demographic."

She exhaled slowly, like trying to breathe through a migraine. "You're being dramatic."

Kaiser clutched his chest with a wounded flourish, eyes narrowing with imperial offense. "You wound me more cruelly than any blade."

Unshaken, Glunko slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Kaiser. You've still got your limbs, your lungs, and that offensively perfect hair now. Arkhold's morning rush didn't kill you, that counts for something."

Kaiser groaned into his palms like a man betrayed by heaven. "This city is going to kill me. And when it does, I'm burning it with me."

Aria, ever the scalpel to his storm, offered, "Let's get food. Before your threats become prophecies."

"Normal food," Kaiser muttered, stepping into formation beside them like a general walking to the gallows. "No more sweet wool. I want a meal that sits quietly on my plate."

They started moving like a unit. The streets screamed with light and sound, but within that chaos, the presence of familiar allies dulled the madness into something survivable.

That is, until Glunko stopped. He turned to a narrow alley, one that smelled of wet stone and hidden sins. Adjusting his hat like it was a soldier's helm, he said, "Alright. Now that I've found you, I'm splitting off."

Kaiser's eyes sharpened. "Why?"

"Business. The sort of business that doesn't welcome men with too many questions or women this young."

Kaiser's stare turned to steel. "So you're leaving."

"I'm circling back," Glunko corrected, pressing a card into his hand. It was too heavy for what it was—plain, silent, and steeped in implication. "This is where you can find me in the capital. If you're still breathing, I'll see you there."

Aria crossed her arms. "You make it sound like this is a final parting."

Glunko gave a smile lined with roads he'd walked alone. "Depends how many enemies you make between now and dinner."

Kaiser took the card with a nod like a blade sliding into its sheath. No thanks. No sentiment. Just understanding.

"Oh! Before I go, you two are gonna need a place to rest up. There's an inn not too far from here, about ten minutes of walking, straight down the main road." He adjusted his hat and smirked. "Name's Erya's Middle Finger."

Kaiser, who had been nodding along, froze. "...I'm sorry. What?"

Glunko sighed as if he had been dreading this reaction. "Yep, same Erya you're thinkin' of."

Kaiser's eye twitched. "The same lunatic who threw me into a chair and teleported people out of their beds?! That Erya?!"

"The one and only," Glunko muttered with a shake of his head.

Aria looked between them, confused. "Who's Erya?"

Kaiser threw up his hands. " A menace."

Glunko sighed dramatically. "A genius."

Kaiser turned to him, horrified. "You're on her side?!"

Glunko held up a hand. "Listen. I don't like her either. Woman's got the subtlety of a war drum and the patience of a lit fuse, but I can't deny it, she's the most talented person I've ever met."

Kaiser scoffed. "At what? Screaming at people?"

Glunko wagged a finger. "At everything."

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Everything?"

Glunko turned fully toward her, as if this was about to be a lesson. "Everything. Name it. Cooking? Better than chefs who've spent decades perfecting their craft. Tailoring? I've seen her weave a dress so fine, people thought it was stitched by the gods themselves. Blacksmithing? I once watched her forge a sword so sharp, it cut a man's shadow."

Kaiser narrowed his eyes. "You're exaggerating."

Glunko stepped closer. "Am I? The woman runs over thirty shops across the world. Her stronghold is here, in Arkhold, where she owns and manages more than ten. She's got an inn, a tailor's, a smithy, a bakery, a jewelry shop, a bookstore, a post office…"

Aria blinked. "A post office?"

"A post office!" Glunko repeated, waving his arms. "The mail system in this city was garbage before she took over! Now letters arrive before people even send 'em! You're telling me that ain't talent?"

Kaiser slowly turned to Aria. "He's lost his mind."

Glunko ignored him, continuing his rant. "She's built empires, Kaiser! She could be a queen if she wanted! The world's lucky she doesn't have the patience for politics, 'cause if she did, we'd all be living under the rule of the Eryan Dynasty."

Glunko clapped him on the back. "Look, just go to Erya's Middle Finger, tell 'em Glunko sent ya, and you might get a free meal. Worst case, you pay for your dinner. Best case, she's too busy fixing someone else's life to notice you."

Aria just shrugged. "Free food sounds nice."

Glunko smirked. "That's the spirit. Now, try not to get into trouble. And Kaiser?"

Kaiser looked at him warily. "What?"

Glunko's smirk grew wider. "Try not to get kidnaped again."

Kaiser groaned as Glunko tipped his hat and finally walked away, disappearing into the city streets.

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