Celeste snickered at the funny guy, jumped ahead, and did yet another ridiculous thing: she literally tossed that dog like a rock and wondered about the next step. Hound howled in grace without amassing any size or Arcana in the slightest. All because he was about to have the time of his freaky life.

  Stark yelped as that attacked him, so he tried to push his arms against those frontal paws. It was futile. The beast tilted in weird and unnatural speed for its size, chewed on his ass, and soon the duo started to wrestle, moan, and shout in awful time. Louise was included when he tried to help his friend, and he became an unfortunate victim.

  “Haha,” Celeste smiled, standing and enjoying the view. “Deserved.” She felt a sense of victory after clashing against the inevitable.

  Bodyguards stationed around the tight corridor winced as they surrounded her, yet didn't move upon noticing her creaking fingers and smile. It wasn't a typical look for what looked to be a teenage girl.

  Celeste looked at them, giving them a look by cracking her fist and glancing at them without caring if they were twice or thrice her age. “Want some?” she offered her fists, overlooking the part where her right arm throbbed in delightful hues of black and white mist, obscured by the loose, thick fabric of her clothes.

  The men shook their heads, glaring at their boss, who shrieked and couldn't shake that dog. Louise tried to attack but began to fight the battle of his nightmares against a dog the size of... a cat? It got bigger in the middle of the fight, taking care of both of their asses, and even bit their arms for a treat.

  After a minute of this madness, Celeste clapped her hands and felt disappointed that those big men didn't challenge themselves up to her level. It was a shame.

  “Back. Back.”

  Hound stopped, howled back at a pair of sorry, flinching, bloodied figures, and jumped back to Celeste's arm. It was so great to go wild against those sorry bastards that Hound even licked her face and was in ecstasy, for no rules were broken forever.

  Without much ado, Celeste pointed to the duo, who didn't feel the slightest bit sorry. “Villains. Bad thing, Hound. I read about it. Big bad. Big bad is badder when louder, alright?”

  Hound nodded, sure that this lesson was clear and her reading books were not a waste of sniffs.

  Stark gazed upward, lying on the floor in messed-up clothes and a bunch of superficial wounds that couldn't even drench his blood. It was humiliating how he couldn't do anything. Perhaps the worst pain and wound was how his feelings got hurt, and his Emblem didn't help shit. It was a pitiful look.

  “Who the fuck....” Stark said, in an incredible display of pride and anger, yet with little ability to do much about this situation.

  “Get out of my sight... or...” Celeste wasn't sure why or where to go from there, so she threatened them with her fist and leaped from the ceiling, grabbed the floor, and landed on the floor below.

  Ellie was there, half unsure what the hell that leap was about because she was still half thinking about William and her choices. She tried to find him right away and didn't choose the right floor.

  “Back. Sorry.” Celeste said, scrubbing her shaken hair and checking her clothes. It was all fine, and her beating heart couldn't contain her excitement. She did well, right? She protected William against villains!

  Like a hero of ages?! She smiled and swore that sick licking had never felt this useful.

  Ellie ignored her as she wondered where to start today.

  ***

  Below, in the entrance, the little delightful charm of that one-sided fight reached quite a few faces. There was one... particular individual who attempted to omit it, but it was a notable failure on his part. It wasn't a good look, indeed. It was Burton, and he helplessly sighed and swore that today was about to be a very long day. Besides that, the time this institution was about to have was another thing, and youths such as these were tormenting enough as is.

  Many foreign places represented great hopes and knowledge, and Burton hoped to be an excellent example for any new recruit or guests, because among youths, what did an excellent example even mean? Everyone was discovering that, and looking at idols or heroes wasn't very fair. At least for him, that is.

  Which was why he took care of the entrance floor and disregarded what that girl did to the son of Prime Hunter, because, hell, that fucker deserved it.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Everyone knew that.

  But the rules... Yeah. It wasn't looking good.

  Not far from him, an elderly woman wore strange, rural-looking clothes that seemed out of place in this library, both in terms of time and setting. She looked odd and, in a way, spooky, and... well, hot as hell. There was a literal raging flame on her head, letting light and sparks scatter around her, turning to smoke without putting flames all over the library. Right beside her, a girl of around fifteen years of age stood, apathetic to that heat.

  “Saw them?” the old lady asked, wearing a mixture of rough leather strips that made up a weird mixture of dress and robe made out of leaves and leather. Her belly was exposed, her arms showed many rough, scorched scars, and her skirt was almost too long. She looked to be around sixty with her face alone, though her body looked to be in her prime.

  The girl wore simple, traditional clothes she got from the Federation. Her master advised her to get along with this land and its people better, and one way to do so was to choose her clothes wisely and to accept this culture rather than running around half-naked and blazing with glory.

  So she got a comfortable set and called it a day, but she couldn't help thinking the stuff on her feet was rather uncomfortable, if not revolting.

  “I did see them, Master. It was hard not to.”

  “Stark Taker. Son of Prime Hunter,” the blazing lady said, stating things in a frenzy, and her eyes set on her targets. Things of fury and cold emotions stirred, and nobody approached her for dozens of feet apart from her disciple.

  “Noted. I know of Prime Hunter, Master. A big, arrogant guy. Sturdy fortress, or so the uncle said. The son seems to be impressive.”

  “Beside him, Louise. Unknown star. The family is smaller at bargains, and details are often incorrect, but the family is decent and keen on establishing a solid foundation of merit and knowledge. They are clever dealers. This one is a mystery, but for a reason I now understand. He is less proper than Taker, for my eyes don't lie. They know he is lacking. That family knows...”

  “Looks like a big guy who knows how to make friends at the right corners,” The girl nodded, angling her head above.

  “Then... that girl. She is the one.”

  “Yes? The ONE!?” the girl hummed in anticipation, smiling as her gaze intensified, flinching like her master because this was that one.

  “Take care of this carefully. Try to befriend her, Sharie, for the good of the soul and good manners, because that's the call of destiny that means everything for us. Our Tribe will be happy for it. Her. You. This needs to happen.”

  “How?”

  “You will go out. It is by fate decided and cherished, and you are free to seek the world and bathe in the glory of the blaze.”

  “Alright.” Sharie nodded, and she was more or less accustomed to her mood and flaming head. The temperature around her master was always high, and sometimes even the jungles of Mexico and the Amazon caught fire because of it.

  By virtue of Lady Derny, Sharie took charge of her new life and left the Tribes of Mexico without a shred of doubt. If that's what they demanded, so be it.

  Out of view for most watchful figures, William was out of focus, or Derny couldn't see his point, and instead aimed at much more apparent absurdity.

  Celeste was different and hard to overlook. She knew it and had to touch and let his dear disciple grow—and how to do it other than by forcing her hand at the alleged freak of Australia?

  ***

  Above, Stark was furious and wrestled with Louise as if he had punched his guts and shaved one of his brows, which this chubby youth once did when they were young. Let's just say it didn't end up being the worst-case scenario.

  “What is that? What the fuck was that?!”

  “How in the world am I to know it?”

  “That freaking brat is gone?!” Stark suddenly turned, noticing William was gone, like that dog.

  Aside from them, the bodyguards looked at their mess and masters. “He is not worth it, boss. See? He is already gone.” A stern man among the bodyguards pointed toward the doors.

  Louise sighed over Stark's weird focus. It seemed he had already forgotten about that girl, or she wasn't in his heart in the slightest. That, or he was intentionally neglecting her, for that was a shame that would stick out like a sore thumb.

  Stark groaned as if he had lost a very important bet. “Man, what a disappointment. I won't live it down until I punch him right in the forehead. I swear on it on my old man.”

  “Young master, you shouldn't swear about your father like that,” another man said and won a punch from Stark, rolling to the ground and groaning as bones definitely fractured.

  “Shut up and get me a new set of clothes. And you, get me the name of that girl, or you are out of your pinky,” Stark barked a bunch of orders and then got out of Louise's grip.

  Bodyguards sighed and complied.

  As the sorry duo got up, Stark patted his clothes and shed a tear. Looking at Louise, he laughed at him. “You look like a lost piglet in the middle of the Dark Zone.”

  “And you found no hope in Dreamscape!” Louise retorted, beginning to laugh and taunt each other.

  Each was getting more and more savage until Stark grinned as he uttered. “You don't even play fair. You take the weight like a pig and play with it like a Dreadlock.”

  “D-dreadlock?” Louise pondered and figured his lack of words meant his defeat. It was uncalled for, but such was their life.

  Stark giggled, accepted clothes from one of the bodyguards, and pulled his arm over Louise's shoulder. “Let's forget this madness. Listen, Louise, I've got this idea...”

  Stark, as if completely oblivious to his previous uproar, changed his words from anger to pleasure as if nothing of consequence had happened. They walked away, unaware of how annoyed their bodyguards were and of what was brewing below. Hopefully, no rumors will spread that a little dog beat them up.

  Fortunately, they knew pretty well that Stark was an utter piece of work, and his mood shifts were like his age and Emblem. Such were the teenagers, who were the worst of the worst. Walker teenagers, even... well, horrid. Like his father, he had a personality worthy of a Walker.