The city palace was eerily quiet even though it was the middle of the day. Its marble floored walls, with rare and exquisite paintings spoke of unimaginable excess. Everything from the silky drapes on the windows, to the gilded crystal holders spoke of luxury and aplomb. Even though the building could house hundreds of people, only one man lived here. Not counting the servants who milled about to the whims of one pudgy man.

Damaris Steelcrest had it good. Rich luxurious silk clothing, rare delicacies from distant lands, and strong mounts he could ride around the city during his free time. Everything was meticulously arranged to meet his every whim and fancy. All he had to do in return was ensure his city officials didn't run the place into the ground. A trivial task that he had outsourced to his loyal retainers. This was everything he had hoped for when he signed up for the role of city mayor. As he sat on his plush bed, with a tray filled with all his favorite foods, a dozen servants stood to the side with their heads bowed. He could practically hear their mouths drooling as he enjoyed his breakfast slowly.

This was how he liked to start his day. He had given clear instructions that whoever was serving him during breakfast was not allowed to eat beforehand, or the night before. How else was he supposed to enjoy hearing the rumbling of empty stomachs. Sadly, he had severe restrictions on how he could treat the peasants. But after careful research he had learned how to skirt the rules. Starving his subjects wasn't allowed, but a missed meal wasn't considered that. It would bring down morale, but it was a metric he didn't really bother with on his System interface. If the city ran smoothly, he could indulge in these trivial joys of life. He chuckled when he heard two more growling sounds from the line of servants. He liked to deliberately take almost an hour to finish his food, prolonging it just enough that it wasn't marked as torture by the System.

His family had shipped him off to this forsaken planet to harvest some rare Titles and possible talents. Not to mention carrying out his other mission in secret. But he didn't have to be completely focused all the time. There were still a few months before the planet would be open to outside influence, and he intended to do everything he was not allowed back home. Well, everything that he could get away with. He grumbled internally in frustration as he eyed the young woman standing amongst the servants.

If there was one System rule, he absolutely hated, it was that you couldn't force someone into your bed. No matter how subtle the blackmail was, it would be heavily penalized by the System, up to and including impotency and death. The act needed more than just consent from both parties. It needed something called love, whatever that meant. Wasn't wanting something like food and money enough to love someone? He had heard tales of Pre-System times on his home planet, where his great grandfather enjoyed such luxuries. But the System had put a hard stop to that. Now both parties had to want the other, and the reason couldn't be transactional in nature. Countless nobles had tried to find a loophole in this rule, but none had succeeded so far. Even he was frustrated at his lack of success. What did the wench want? Wasn't showing off his wealth and power enough to make her love him?

His musings were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. He guzzled down his wine cup before asking them to enter. His City Administrator walked in with a mountain of documents in hand. Damaris sighed internally, preparing for the most boring part of his day. He pushed away his food tray and shambled over to his desk on the side of the room. With a content tap of his belly, he sat down and gestured for the documents to be presented. The servants started clearing out the food in the background.

"Summarize all this for me," he demanded while pulling out his signet ring, his official seal. Even though he couldn't care less about the needs of the peasants, he had to keep a close eye. His class couldn't progress without appeasing the rabble and could negatively impact him even.

"Certainly, sire," the white-haired old man replied with a formal bow. "The documents to your right are the budgets for the coming week. They need your approval, including city maintenance and the dungeon scheduling rights. There are also twelve requests for basic amenities by the citizenry. The last two requests are for more housing structures and supplies for the homeless refugees."

"Approve all of them, except the last two," he said with distaste. He really hated those leeches. If not for delicate political balance he had to maintain with the Adventurer's Guild, he would have kicked them out already. All because of that one scheming woman, Thalindra Sylvathorn. Her very memory made his blood boil. Everything would have been perfect if not for her. His entire setup was like a carefully calibrated machine with numerous gears working in tandem. She was the one gear that he had to be wary of.

"Understood, sire. The documents on the right are for guild business. There are detailed reports about all the missions that I have personally read through. Nothing is out of the ordinary or requires your attention," the man paused. Damaris looked up to find him hesitating.

"What is it?" he asked in annoyance.

"Except one sire. There is formal request for the release…"

"Enough. Reject that request and approve the rest," he cut off the nervous man. This was yet another mess that woman had created for him. She had pulled some strings and even defied direct orders to send her most powerful party for an investigation of the neighboring village, Jadefall. Which wouldn't have been a big deal if she had not sent the healer as well.

The healer, Rowanth Glendwyr, if he recalled correctly, was sent to this planet by some mutual off-world acquaintances of his noble house. They had deep ties to the elven family. And secrets which they couldn't afford being leaked to the outside world. When the mission report had crossed his desk, he panicked. If that witch Thalindra had gotten a hold of the report before him, he shuddered to think of the consequences.

Damaris was glad that she and the Guild Leader were off on the dungeon clearing mission. Luckily, in their absence he had some minimal authority over guild matters. And since the stupid brute had confessed to a murder, he had the right to detain them all. He just had to make sure they hadn't blabbed about the elf's abilities to others before somehow disposing of them. He had still not worked out how, and the stubborn fools had refused to crack, but Damaris reckoned he had another few days before the raid party returned. And he intended to utilize the time to its fullest.

"Ummm…," the old geezer interrupted his happy thoughts of new ways he could torture them.

"What?" he asked loudly.

"The request is by none other than the Assistant Guild Leader herself," the man said hesitantly.

Damaris's very soul left his body when he heard that. The words didn't register in his mind for a full minute, as he stared at the man blankly. When he finally recovered, he screamed out in shock, "WHAT?"

This… this couldn't be happening. He wasn't prepared for this. He thought he had more time; he always had more time. His retinue always made meticulous plans, without missing any details and always had contingencies. That is when he remembered his personal guard's advice. He had clearly told him to get rid of the berserker's party as soon as possible. But Damaris did not want to do so. It wasn't often he got to inflict direct physical pain on his victims. And this had been one of those rare opportunities. And he had wanted to make the most of it. But now…

"GET OUT," he shrieked at the top of his lungs. The old man tried to say something, but he yelled again, "GET OUT THIS INSTANT."

The City Admin hurriedly ran out like his pants were on fire. The moment the door closed, Damaris turned towards the corner of the room and glared. "Care to explain what this is about? Thought you had this handled? What does my father pay you for, if you can't even be on top of something like this."

A form appeared out of thin air where Damaris was staring. It was like a veil had been lifted, revealing a male elf standing in the corner. The elf too had a frown on his face. When he spoke, it was like the wind was whispering in the entire room.

"Your father pays me to keep you safe. And my family pays me to keep our dealings a secret. I am not responsible for your childish tendencies to fool around, nor am I liable for your lack of planning. I told you to execute the four, but you wanted to have fun. Hope it was worth it, human. Like a disobedient mutt, you have made a mess. Now go and clean it," the elf's words grated on Damaris's nerves. But there was nothing he could do about it, and unfortunately, he needed this guy's help.

"I needed more information out of them, so I did what I had to do. If they had spoken of your cousin's abilities to a third party… we needed to know that. So go do your damn job and kill them all," he tried to put up a brave face, although internally he was sweating bullets.

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The elf's reputation preceded him. Lirael Glendwyr was fabled to be a ruthless assassin and had taken countless lives from the shadows. Even though he was merely level 98, he had pulled off some seriously challenging covert operations. No one knew of his abilities, just rumors from questionable origins.

"And what of the political blowback? Having your prisoners die without an official hearing is not something the Adventurer's Guild will take lying down. Especially her," Lirael asked in a mocking tone with a smile. The insufferable moron was enjoying this.

"I'll deal with the political side of things," Damaris retorted with clenched teeth.

"You mean, your family provided City Admin will take care of it. Or should I call him your babysitter?" the elf added with a sneer.

Damaris's face was turning a deep shade of red from the anger and embarrassment. Mainly because the man's words were true. He had never been good at this kind of stuff, and his father knew it. He had been mocked about it all his life, and if not for his doting mother, he would never have gotten this chance. She had pulled so many strings and cashed in multiple favors to get him this role. She even sent her personal butler as his City Admin. The old fogey had a remarkable talent for running things smoothly and circumventing political minefields. Damaris was, for all intents and purposes, a glorified rubber stamp.

"We don't have time for this. If that witch is back, things will start falling apart faster than we can react," he said while clenching his fists tight. There was nothing he could do without the man's help, and the elf knew it. Damaris had no choice but to endure silently.

"Heh. Very well then. Someone must know how to do their job, I guess," Lirael said while standing up. "Make sure you clean up after yourself. If the stink reaches your family, you don't need me to remind you what will happen to a mongrel like you."

The elf left the room without so much as a whisper. He just faded away. Damaris wasn't sure if the man was truly gone or just invisible. Therefore, he couldn't vent his frustration by cursing him and ten generations of his family. Instead, Damaris smoothed his dress and headed for the door. When he opened it, the City Admin, he could never remember the bloke's name, was patiently standing outside.

"Get in here and explain the situation to me," Damaris demanded while heading back in quickly. The man followed him without a word, and they returned to their earlier posts.

"Lady Sylvathorn returned to the city about an hour ago. She was traveling alone and went straight to her office without a word. There, she presumably heard of the capture of her top adventuring party and sent in a formal request for their release. Her messenger is in the waiting hall, along with a retinue of bodyguards to escort the prisoners back. She has scheduled a hearing for this evening," the man explained without a break.

Damaris tried coming up with a plan of action but drew a blank. Begrudgingly he asked the old man, "What should be our next move?"

"Well, the release of the prisoners is the only viable option here, sire. We did overstep our authority by holding them here. As I explained to you before, although it is technically within the rules, this incident will create a rift between our organizations for some time. I had strongly advised against such…"

"Yeah, yeah. I remember. Let's move on. What if it was not possible to release them?" he asked as casually as he could. The old man was trustworthy only for running the city efficiently. He was not privy to the deeper schemes, nor of the existence of his personal guard.

"I don't follow, sire. Why wouldn't it be possible to release them?" the man asked with confusion.

"Ahem, well… What if there was, let's say, an accident. And the prisoners are dead. What would we do in such a situation?"

The old man's face turned white at the question. He may not know the underlying schemes, but he knew noble houses. Which meant, the City Admin must have pieced together some semblance of a ploy, based on the available facts. But the man hadn't come this far, by being dumb or emotional. He recovered quickly.

"Well, in that case sire, we need to explain to the adventurer's guild about this accident. And make sure their investigation doesn't reveal any foul play from our end. We will also need to compensate the guild heavily," the man said with a bow.

"What if we could mar the adventurer's reputation? By someone's testimony. For example, the former Village Head, and Guild Leader of the destroyed village this party had gone to?" Damaris asked with some hope.

"That… might work. But it is highly unlikely. There would be an official enquiry by the guild, and Lady Sylvathorn is well known for cross-examining witnesses. She would tear the testimony apart within minutes," the man replied, dashing Damaris's hopes to use the two new weasels that had come knocking on his door recently. He knew their type well. Given the right incentives, he could convince them to speak up against the berserker.

Damaris ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. This situation was already getting worse by the second. By the looks of it, his only option was to apologize and appease the guild by paying whatever hefty fines he incurred. When the word got out, it would end his political career, but at least his life would be safe. He couldn't afford to let his family's secrets be spilled, or there wouldn't be a rock to hide under where his father couldn't reach. Even his mother would hand her precious son's head on a silver platter in front of the family patriarch to save her own skin.

"Alright, arrange a meeting with Thalindra. I will meet her personally to smooth things out. I will need you to stand behind me for this, as usual," he said while heading for his closet. He needed to put on some good clothes for the meeting, and possibly some protection talisman if Spells started flying around.

The old man rushed out to meet up with the messenger and arrange for the meeting. Damaris quickly got dressed and headed for his office on the ground floor of his palace. That was the only floor accessible to the public, as that is where he conducted most of his business. Things he had not delegated to his City Admin, that is. He hurried over and pushed open the door. He needed to look busy when the woman arrived. But he froze the moment he entered.

Thalindra was already seated and sipping on some tea. His City Admin was standing behind her obediently, and he had clear signs of nervousness on his face. Damaris blinked in confusion for a moment, before recovering and putting a smile on his face.

"What a pleasant surprise, Lady Sylvathorn. I was just returning from using the restroom to prepare for your arrival," he said in a flattering tone.

"Something wrong with the attached one that is through that door?" the woman asked flatly while pointing to the side of the room. Damaris kicked himself internally for the slipup. He had used this room so rarely that he completely forgot about the attached personal bathroom.

"Uh, yes there is. It needs some fixing. Anyways, how was your dungeon clear quest?" he said to divert the topic and regain control of the conversation. His mother always said the one who led the conversation could dominate the outcome. Unfortunately, he wasn't any good at that either.

"I am not here for pleasantries, nor on any other business except the release of my adventurers," she boldly demanded.

"Of… of course. I understand. But you see, I had every right to detain those adventurers. They had freely admitted to murder, after all. And as a city mayor…"

She cut him off by raising a finger. It infuriated him, but she was very intimidating. "Detain, yes. But in the guild or city prison. Not your personal dungeon. Why are they being held here?"

Damaris fumed internally. She was too cunning and wasn't letting him take charge at all. He had prepared a mental speech on how to navigate this conversation, and it had gone flawlessly in his head. But she simply didn't let him get his bearings.

"Ah… you see…," he stumbled around for words, helplessly staring at the old man standing behind her. For some reason the man didn't say anything in response and averted his gaze. Damaris felt completely lost and confused.

"The report," she demanded again with an outstretched hand.

"What?"

"Hand me the report Captain Granthorne submitted when he returned from the mission," she said with a stern expression.

"I… I… can't. It's evidence of his confession. You…," he stammered. There was no way he could hand over that document to her. It had detailed Rowanth's abilities in excruciating detail. Details that he couldn't afford to be made public. Unfortunately, he couldn't destroy it either. It was a System construct, and immune to all forms of damage.

"The hearing is scheduled to take place soon. And I, as the representative of the defendants, am required by law to read it before the hearing starts. And oh, while you were busy floundering around in your bedroom, I rescheduled the hearing. It starts in 10 minutes," she said while not dropping her hands at all.

Damaris started sweating. Now he understood why everyone feared this woman. The way she held on to the pressure points of her victims was unmatched. Not once did she let him recover to formulate a plan, or a counter argument. He was like a helpless child trying to argue against a strict mother.

"You… you can't reschedule a hearing without…"

"I have the necessary documentation, with all required 12 signatures calling for an expedited trial."

"But… but…," he floundered helplessly before falling back to his last resort. "They are dead. All 4 of them."

For the first time there was shock on the woman's face. She dropped her hand in disbelief, and the look on her face gave him immense joy. She was stunned speechless, which finally emboldened him.

"Sorry, but there has been an accident at my personal dungeon, as you call it," he replied with a sneer. Now that she was off balance, he was going to rub this in her face as much as he could. "We will be compensating the guild for the loss, but there is nothing you can do about it. You are free to have your investigation, if you think you can find any evidence."

He gloated freely, since he knew the elf's talents. There would be no evidence to be found, and the deaths would indeed look accidental. He started laughing, but it died instantly when the woman too smiled.

"Wow. And here I was thinking, you would have some sophisticated backup plan," she chuckled while shaking her head.

"I don't need a sophisticated plan," he retorted with heat in his voice. He absolutely hated it when people dismissed him like that. "Your precious party is dead, and that is the end of it. You might be good at cross-examination and getting confessions out of people, but there are no people left to confess. You might be smart, but against carefully laid out plans, you are nothing."

BOOM

The moment he said it, a loud explosion rocked his palace. He looked around in confusion, before watching a smile appear on the woman's face.

"What did you do?" Damaris shrieked.

"I know your plans run deep. So, I did the one thing that always works against such meticulously laid out schemes," she said with a sneer of her own. "I threw in a wrench."

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