While Alvir spent a significant chunk of his morning teaching me magic, that didn't mean I was free from being used as advertisement after the fact. It was mainly meant to make our connection make sense, he was ostensibly acting like I was his apprentice in crafting jewelry for the public, but people would still get suspicious if I suddenly decided not to act as a mascot.

  I didn't know the details, but apparently shrouding all hints to our witchiness was a bit beyond Umi. Though what she did was still impressive.

  "What's got you all grumpy today?" Alvir nudged me with an elbow. "I saw how you beat your rival yesterday. You should be happy! Not mopping about like a wet towel."

  I glared at him from where I rested my head on the counter. "You know full well why I'm grouchy. Stalker."

  "I don't actually." Alvir shrugged. "Her explanation was perfectly reasonable."

  "Spirits and clans? Really? You believe that shit?"

  "I don't know much about the clans, but I do know they exist. Honestly, why are you so against the idea? It's not that much of a stretch."

  "Dead people don't linger in the mortal plain, not unless they're joining the other corpses up north," I grumbled.

  Alvir hummed. "Who says they linger here? She did say that she needed a ritual to connect with her ancestor."

  I huffed, but the conversation ended as another well-to-do cunt came up to the counter in hopes of haggling Alvir down on a necklace with a jade pendant. I was pretty sure the man was fucking with me, because the bullshit Xae told me went against a fundamental aspect of the game.

  Nothing like what she'd described could be possible. Witches, mages, warlocks, warriors, and Knights.

  Those were the baseline to every path to power, vessel's simply didn't exist.

  I could accept that there were weird as fuck energies besides mana, I could accept that magic worked on a linguistic basis, I could even accept that gods didn't seem to mind witches all that much. I couldn't accept such an obvious avenue for growth being ignored entirely by the game.

  Xae lost, and now she was fucking with me instead of making good on her promise.

  Whatever, If she wasn't going to be honest then it was pointless to linger on it. Not like it would've changed much other than sating my curiosity. My path was clear, I just had to walk it. Still felt like a bitch move though.

  I'd just have to beat her harder in our coming spars to make up for it.

  She wanted me to use my magic at least once a day in our bouts, something about me getting accustomed to the increase in strength. Personally I was more convinced that she wanted a challenge by her manic glee. Learning how to be a better swordswoman while increasing my strength was...kinda pointless unless I got some serious durability enchantments.

  Or decided to go for extremely heavy weapons like a bruiser. Didn't feel like my style though, neither did the sword to be honest, but shopping around to find out what the fuck fit wasn't in the cards when I was in such a rush.

  Did I need to be though? Since the hordes, the magistrate's been...more relaxed on recruitment. Using the taxes they collected to repair the damage done, and to enrich themselves presumably.

  Maybe I could've taken a step back, consolidate everything and considered my options instead of rushing head first into everything at once. My demon shrugged, it didn't care either way, but it did like the progress I was making.

  Of course it would, the little shit.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  It chuckled a bit, but then it blinked and stared at the shop's entrance. It couldn't really do that, more like...stretching its awareness? It had been pulling that trick more often recently now that I noticed it's growth, not necessarily needing my eyes to perceive things.

  Alvir let out a sigh to the customer he was talking to. "Take it or leave it, shrimp. It looks like I need to deal with something."

  "Who are you calling a shrimp?!" the shrimp said. "I'll have you know that my mother is—"

  "Don't care, pay or fuck off."

  The boy scowled, and while it was always a delight to see the entitled knocked down a peg, I was too busy staring at the door. The air was...different there. Enough to where my senses could barely pick it up.

  I didn't think it was mana, because it didn't fit any of the criteria I had come to recognize mana for.

  It didn't feel concept-less? But neither did it possess a concept. It was...hmmm. Like if oil was pushed into a cup full of water? Water being the ambient mana in this case, and the oil being whatever the fuck was fighting against it. It wasn't supposed to be there, but it wasn't unnatural. Long winded way of saying that it didn't feel wrong, just a different kind of right.

  The boy paid for the necklace and stomped off with promises of retribution, opening the door and barely stepping to the side to let a thin man enter the shop.

  The strange feeling was radiating off him.

  He wasn't nearly as emaciated as when I last saw him, but his human form could still do with some binge eating. His hair was knotted back into a pony tail, and rather than pitch black eyes, he sported blue pupils.

  Looking straight at me.

  His stride was languid, but the length of his limbs allowed for ample progress. Soon he was standing in front of the counter like a prospective customer. His gaze never left me. Behind him was the boy I beat to shit a few days ago, looking mighty dejected as he scowled at the floor.

  The imp was not impressed.

  "That's a little too much attention on my apprentice, don't you think?" Alvir mused, gripping the man on the shoulder. "And walking in while letting loose your blessing? Why, a humble jeweller might mistake your intentions to lean towards the unpleasant. Surely you're not that stupid, right Umoa?"

  His gaze never left me, and he barely acknowledged the other witch in the shop. "Give me back the knife you stole, girl, and I will forgive the insult."

  I was shaking, I realized. Whatever his apparent blessing was, he was condensing it on my person and making it very hard to breathe.

  Like the air refused to act as air.

  I was afraid.

  I was so afraid.

  But I expected this.

  "No," I said, trying and failing to keep the fear out of my voice.

  He blinked for the first time since entering the shop, let out a sigh, then reached for my throat. It wasn't fast, I could've stepped out of the way, but Alvir caught him by the wrist quick enough where it wasn't a problem.

  "I don't like being ignored. Neither do I like you trying to lay hands on my apprentice, explain yourself or I'll be damned if you leave this shop with a beating heart."

  Umoa glanced at Alvir, but it was just a glance.

  "That knife is more important than you know, girl." He pulled his hand back. "I can understand being foolish enough to take it from my pupil, considering he tried to kill you. But to deny me its return? This is not a game, and I am far beyond anything you can handle. Give me what is mine."

  "I can't," I said.

  He blinked again. "Why?"

  I let out a long breath, slowly getting accustomed to the strange energy surrounding me. How to word this? Hmmm...well, better to be direct. I didn't think I could've managed being suave right then. Though it would've been cool.

  "Because I melted it down."

  Silence.

  Umoa took a deep breath, then let it out slow.

  "Do you think the rat can protect you from me?"

  "It's time for you to leave, corpse-fucker," Alvir growled.

  Umoa stared for a while longer, then turned around and left the shop with the same easy pace as he entered. The boy whose name I still hadn't gotten glared at me and followed his mentor. Until it was just me and Alvir.

  Alvir let out a long sigh. "I hope you're happy, you just made an enemy of one of the witches that actually matter in this city. All for what exactly?"

  "That knife did some fucked up shit." I said, voice shaky. "I tested it out and...it's better if no one had their hands on the abomination. Especially not a witch. Besides, he can't kill me since I'm part of the coven."

  "Interesting assumption to make. You're lucky it's vaguely correct in this case; but what about your hunter friends? Did you learn nothing from the slum rats?"

  I pursed my lips and stared at nothing for a bit. "It scratched my soul," I said. "Alongside some other bullshit. I don't know how, but it matched the small cut I made directly to my soul. And it hurt. All I can hope is that he isn't stupid enough to kill renowned hunters, because I couldn't give something like that back to someone who's at the very least morally flexible. If not outright evil."

  Alvir groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "Fuck me sideways, you're worse than me."

  I took offence to that, but didn't say anything back...all I could hope for was that the consequences wouldn't be something I'd regret.

  Unlikely. Very unlikely.

  But I had to hold onto something, didn't I?

  rejected the order. Made me sad, it looked nice. Maybe when I'm feeling adventurous again.