Ryn identified the biggest problem in the plan. Even with their disguises now, they were just a bunch of nobodies in the ranks of Bloodmane.

What they needed was authority.

Sure, they could work their way up…

But who was he trying to kid—stealing someone's title works a lot faster.

And time was of the essence.

Ryn slipped into the administrative wing as the sun rose to its apex. Stone corridors filled with muted sounds. Most worked with their heads down, busy with their monotonous task.

No one spared him a glance.

And even if they had, no one would have cared.

Ryn watched the process unfold.

Documents entered at one end, were read, stamped, and passed along. Then stamped again. And again.

Almost like an assembly line.

Ryn had a thought, one that was so stupid that it might actually work.

He spotted an empty desk, probably abandoned by a late or overworked clerk, and sat down like he belonged there.

A moment later, the clerk to his right finished reading a document, glanced sideways at Ryn, shrugged, and handed it over without a word.

Ryn blinked.

Then took it.

…It actually worked.

Though this document wasn't what he wanted. Nonetheless, any information is good information.

He skimmed it over.

The document wasn't labeled as anything dramatic.

Just a planning brief.

Ryn's eyes slid over the opening lines.

"Upon completion of Dheam's reunification, surplus military capacity is expected to exceed requirements."

He frowned.

It was strange that Kharvos had already decided that his plan would succeed. It wasn't a matter of if, but when.

Even worse, he definitely knows by now that Gremory's Hero Party is within Dheam…so why was he being so bold?

Ryn skimmed further.

Trade routes were listed next. Border pressures. "High-friction neighbors."

One name appeared more than once.

Khaz Vordun.

Below it, logistics were mentioned such as formations, detachments, and supply chains well past Dheam's borders.

He stopped reading there, as the implications were clear.

The Outside was only the starting ground. Their true target was expansion, and eventually…conquest.

He passed this document over to his right while receiving another one from his left.

Ryn knew it the moment his eyes touched the header.

"Asset Disposal Authorization"

This was the one.

Names were listed this time, containing all sorts of positions ranging from high authority to just barely enough.

Ryn was aiming for the names with middle authority. The kind that never made speeches and appeared only in signatures.

His eyes skimmed the column until they stopped on a name.

Liam Bloodmane.

A middle manager who was a Pure Blood, yet had so many infractions that he was demoted all the way down to middle authority.

A bit too important to remove entirely, but too inconvenient to promote again.

Perfect.

Ryn's eyes flicked to the margin beside the name.

Assigned quarters: Northwestern residential area, two streets off supply road.

He committed it to memory in a single pass, the turns and landmarks needed to get there.

The document had already given him everything it was going to.

Ryn passed the paper along the line without pause, expression unchanged.

No one noticed him stand up.

By the time he stepped back into the flow of bodies, Liam Bloodmane was already marked.

Ryn adjusted his hood as he left the administrative wing, the city's noise swallowing him whole.

It's time to pay him a visit.

***

"So…." Fritz commented. "Why are we at this guy's house again?"

Ryn didn't look away from the door.

"Because he signs things," he said.

Fritz stared at the modest stone building in front of them. Just a simple house built into the stone, like all the other houses were.

"…That's it?"

"That's enough."

Ryn stepped closer, testing the latch.

"He's a Pure Blood," Fritz muttered. "Shouldn't he have something?"

"He did," Ryn replied. "Rank. He lost it."

Ryn leaned back slightly, listening.

"He's important enough to be trusted," Ryn continued, voice low. "Not important enough to be protected."

Fritz grimaced. "So what's the plan?"

Ryn finally turned.

"We borrow his authority," he said. "For a day."

"And him?"

Ryn reached for the handle.

"He sleeps through it."

Fritz shifted his weight, arms crossing. "This is a little dubious, don't you think?"

Ryn didn't even blink. "Got a better plan?"

"…No."

"Then we're doing this."

Fritz sighed, rubbing at his face. "Alright. Fine. So how do we get in?"

He glanced at the door again. Locked and built from reinforced wood.

"Door won't budge," Fritz noted.

Ryn nodded. "I know."

He reached into his pocket.

Fritz's eyes widened immediately. "No. No—don't you dare."

Ryn paused. "What?"

"You're not using that again," Fritz said flatly. "I nearly threw up my guts last time."

Ryn looked back at the house, then at Fritz.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hero Candidate," Ryn placed a palm on his back. "I'll unlock the front door for you."

Fritz opened his mouth, then closed it again. "You're kidding."

Ryn flicked the coin upward. It arced cleanly into the chimney, clinked once, then vanished from sight as it dropped onto the wooden floor inside.

"See you on the other side."

[Star's Path]

The world folded.

Space had distorted around him, bringing him right on top of the coin. Ryn stumbled once, catching himself on the edge of a table.

Really need to get use to this soon.

The room was dim and quiet. Its only source of light was a small candle that hung from a stand above.

Ryn crossed the room silently and reached the front door. He turned the latch.

Click.

A heartbeat later, the door eased open from the inside.

Fritz slipped in immediately, sword half-raised, eyes sweeping the room before gingerly stepping inside.

Ryn glanced down the darkened hallway.

"Let's get this done," he said quietly. "Before he wakes up."

He shut the door behind them, the lock sliding with a soft click.

The house was small: two rooms, a wash area, and a single bedroom at the end.

Unremarkable.

Ryn slowed near the door, listening.

Steady breathing.

Asleep.

He raised two fingers.

Fritz nodded, shifting to the side.

Ryn opened the door.

The room smelled faintly of ink and old paper. Liam Bloodmane lay on his side, blankets pulled up to his chest, mouth slightly open.

Ryn crossed the room in three steps.

One hand clamped over Liam's mouth.

The man jerked awake, eyes flying open just in time to see Ryn's shadow fall over him. His body tensed, a muffled shout building in his throat—

Ryn drove his elbow down into the side of his neck.

The sound cut off instantly.

Liam slumped, eyes rolling back as consciousness left him.

Ryn eased him onto the mattress, careful not to let the body hit too hard. He checked the man's pulse once.

Breathing and completely out cold.

Fritz let out a breath he'd been holding. "…That's it?"

"That's it," Ryn said.

He straightened, scanning the room once more for alarms or wards. Nothing of the sort appeared, just silence.

Ryn reached for the nightstand and picked up his name badge.

Authority, reduced to a piece of carved metal.

"Tie him up," Ryn said quietly. "We'll be gone before he wakes."

Fritz nodded and moved to work, still glancing at the unconscious man with something between relief and unease.

Ryn turned back toward the door, already thinking ahead.

One half of his plan was done. Though this was the easy half.

He looked toward the blazing sun.

The other half would decide whether they lived or died.

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