Thomas PoV

"I'm going in," Jamie declared, his voice firm as he stepped into the entrance of the decrepit house. The wooden doorway yawned, the dim interior swallowing him in an instant.

Thomas and Camille exchanged a quick glance before nodding. "Understood," they responded in unison. Despite the tension that coiled between them, they trusted Jamie's judgment.

Thomas couldn't help but feel a knot of concern tighten in his chest. The gas they'd deployed earlier, he wasn't entirely sure of its effects. He'd questioned Jamie about it once before but knew better than to press the matter again. His gaze lingered on the entrance where Jamie had disappeared.

As Jamie ventured deeper into the house, he paused momentarily, his eyes fixing intently on a vacant corner beside him. His lips beneath the mask moved subtly as he murmured words too quiet for anyone else to hear.

"Is he... is he all right?" Camille whispered, her brow furrowing with worry.

Thomas offered a reassuring, if strained, smile. "He's always been like this. Perhaps it's a side effect of brilliance or something along those lines. There's always someone who's a bit... peculiar, you know?"

"Odd... I've never thought of him that way," Camille mused, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Except when he stares off into nothingness." She gave a small shake of her head, as if to dispel the unsettling thought.

"Maybe it's just stress or the pressure of leadership," Thomas suggested, his voice gentle.

"Perhaps," Camille conceded. But her gaze drifted back to the doorway, her senses sharpening.

Suddenly, from the path Jamie had taken, a small group emerged, dwarves and humans alike. Four figures stumbled into view, their movements unsteady as they clutched ragged scraps of cloth over their mouths and noses. Their eyes were wide with panic, skin slick with sweat.

"Dammit! We're surrounded!" one of the humans shouted hoarsely, his voice edged with desperation.

The others seemed on the verge of calling out, but Camille was swifter. In one fluid motion, she raised her twin crossbows, the polished wood gleaming faintly. Her fingers squeezed the triggers, and two bolts sang through the air with lethal precision.

The first struck a dwarf squarely in the chest, the force knocking him backward. The second found its mark in the shoulder of a human, spinning him around before he crumpled to the ground. The attackers never had a chance to react.

Thomas didn't hesitate. Drawing his sword with a sharp hiss of steel, he stepped forward to block the remaining enemies' path.

The two who remained, a dwarf and a human, skidded to a halt. Uncertainty flickered across their faces as they eyed the weapon in Thomas's steady grip. For a moment, it seemed they might attempt to fight. But self-preservation won out.

Without a word, they pressed on running, attempting to flee down the deserted street.

Thomas moved with practiced speed. He lunged toward the dwarf who tried to slip past him, the sword slicing through the air in a deadly arc. The blade met its mark, tracing a swift line across the dwarf's neck. A crimson ribbon unfurled as the dwarf collapsed, eyes wide in shock.

The human, displaying a fleeting moment of cunning, veered sharply to the side, avoiding Thomas and focusing on getting to the street. His footsteps echoed against the cobblestones as he ran away.

"I'll get him!" Aldwin shouted near the carriage.

"Wait," Thomas replied calmly, his eyes fixed on the fleeing figure of the Duster. Confidence radiated from him; he was sure he could eliminate their target.

The Duster didn't stop to see what was happening. But right behind him, Thomas was in pursuit, his sword drawn. Gathering the scant amount of mana he possessed, as much as a [Farmer] could muster, he prepared to unleash his new skill.

With a swift, diagonal slash through the air, Thomas invoked it.

[Reap]

From the tip of his blade, a shimmering wave of energy materialized, taking the shape of a gleaming sickle. It sliced through the air silently, racing toward the Duster with unerring accuracy.

The energy struck the Duster squarely in the back. He let out a strangled cry as the force of the attack cut deeply, sending him sprawling onto the rough stones, his momentum halted abruptly.

"Wow! I want a skill like that!" Aldwin exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe as he clapped Bertram on the shoulder—the thrill of witnessing such power lit up his face.

Bertram, however, was too engrossed in his task to notice. Standing beside the carriage, he was straining with effort, muscles taut as he operated the pump connected to Knall's alchemical contraption. Sweat streamed down his forehead, his focus unwavering.

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"What?" Bertram panted, glancing briefly over his shoulder.

"Don't lose focus! Keep pumping!" Knall barked from the other side of the carriage, his eyes fixed on the gauges and valves, ensuring the gas flowed steadily into the Dusters' hideout.

"Yes, sir!" Bertram shouted back, redoubling his efforts as he gripped the lever tighter.

Thomas approached the fallen Duster. The man lay groaning, a dark crimson pool spreading beneath him. Without hesitation, Thomas knelt and plunged his sword into the Duster's throat, a swift, merciful act to end his suffering.

Rising, he wiped the blade clean on a scrap of cloth and sheathed it. He made his way back to the hideout's entrance, where more bodies lay sprawled, the aftermath of Camille's precise marksmanship. She stood poised near the doorway, reloading her crossbow with practiced efficiency, her eyes scanning the area for any remaining threats.

Moments later, Jamie emerged from the shadows within the hideout, dusting off his gloved hands as if he had just completed a simple chore.

"It's done," he announced, his tone measured.

"Done?" Thomas echoed, a hint of disbelief coloring his voice.

"I've put an end to Thorgrimm," Jamie replied evenly. His gaze was steady, reflecting a calm resolve. "Could you bring the sledgehammers we brought?"

"Just like that? So easily?" Thomas asked, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.

Jamie shrugged nonchalantly. "Easy? Perhaps it was easier than anticipated."

"Make sure your mask is secured tightly, and check that the gas won't come into contact with your skin," Jamie cautioned, his voice muffled slightly by his own mask. The fabric pressed firmly against his face, filtering the tainted air.

Thomas paused, his gaze steady as he adjusted the straps of his mask. He took a moment to inspect his armor, ensuring that every buckle was fastened and every piece sat snugly against his form. He flexed his gloved hands, the leather creaking softly, and stamped his boots to confirm their fit. Satisfied, he gave a resolute nod. "Ready," he affirmed.

Together, they stepped across the threshold into the house, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight. Descending a narrow staircase, they delved into the subterranean depths where the Dusters had made their stronghold.

The first chamber they entered was a crude hall, its walls hewn from rough stone and the ceiling supported by stout wooden pillars.

"We don't have explosives," Jamie remarked, his eyes scanning the structural supports, "but we can at least bring down the area near the stairs. If we collapse this section, anyone left below will be sealed in, forcing them to find another way out, if they can."

"Sure," Thomas replied. He hefted the sledgehammer, feeling its weight settle comfortably in his grip. Without hesitation, he swung the hammer at the nearest wooden pillar. The impact resonated through the chamber, a dull thud that sent splinters flying.

Jamie joined him, targeting another support with measured strikes. Dust rained down from above, and the timbers groaned in protest.

It took several strikes before the pillars began to yield. Wood cracked and snapped, the once-sturdy beams splintering under their assault. With a final, forceful swing, Thomas shattered the base of his target. The pillar toppled, crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust.

"That's it," Jamie shouted through his mask, his voice barely audible over the rumble that began to build. The ceiling trembled, loose stones dislodging and clattering to the floor. Fine particles filled the air, obscuring their vision.

"Time to move!" Thomas urged.

They didn't wait to see the full effect of their actions. Turning on their heels, they sprinted back toward the staircase, the ground beneath them shuddering as the collapse progressed. The sound of falling rock and timber chased them.

Bursting into the open air, they emerged into the daylight, pulling off their masks to gulp down fresh breaths. Camille stood nearby, her vigilant gaze scanning the surroundings. She relaxed marginally upon seeing them safe.

"Is it done?" she asked.

Jamie nodded. "We've collapsed the entrance. The tunnels should be sealed off now."

Behind them, the old house groaned one final time before settling into an uneasy silence.

Knall was already at work by the carriage, his hands deftly closing valves and disengaging mechanisms. He carefully retracted the hose that had funneled the gas into the hideout, coiling it with practiced efficiency.

"Leave the doors and windows open," Jamie instructed. "Gradually, the gas will dissipate and return to a harmless state. But for now, we need to ensure no one enters."

"Understood," Aldwin and Bertram replied.

"Spread the word that there was an alchemical leak, blame it on Dragon Dust," Jamie continued. "Make it clear that no one should approach this house until it's safe."

Thomas sheathed his sledgehammer, his shoulders sagging slightly from exertion. He walked back toward the carriage, each step weighted by the fatigue that had settled into his muscles.

'Still no experience notification,' he thought, a hint of disappointment tingeing his introspection. 'Perhaps it will take time, as it did last time.'

As he approached the carriage, he glanced over to see Jamie standing a short distance away, his gaze distant, fixed on some indeterminate point ahead. There was a subtle melancholy in his posture, a shadow that flickered across his features.

"Should we go back inside and salvage anything of value?" Thomas inquired, breaking the silence as he drew nearer.

Jamie turned to face him, his expression softening at the interruption of his thoughts. "No," he replied, a hint of resignation in his tone. "The gas will destroy anything important. There's nothing left worth risking exposure over."

Thomas noted the undercurrent of regret in Jamie's words. "A shame," he commented gently.

Jamie offered a faint smile. "Indeed. The strategy had its costs."

Knall joined them, wiping his hands on a rag. "All equipment is secured," he reported. "We should be clear to depart."

Jamie inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Knall."

The dwarf gave a modest shrug. "Glad to be of service. Anything to see those scoundrels dealt with."

Camille approached, her eyes reflecting a mix of satisfaction and concern. "What's our next move?"

"For now, we return," Jamie announced, his gaze sweeping over his companions. "We need to regroup. The Dusters may be finished, but their absence will create a vacuum that others may seek to fill."

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