Valoria’s Lower Market was a maze of damp alleys illuminated by lanterns of opaque glass, where legal commerce gave way to the sale of contraband artifacts, alchemical poisons, and confidential intel.
Unlike the city’s main thoroughfares, the Merchant League guards rarely patrolled here, leaving the law of raw force to dictate order.
Haruto and Aoi walked shrouded in dark cloaks that concealed both their faces and their weapons.
Thanks to the Dual Circuit Link, their auras were compressed so tightly that they appeared to be two ordinary civilians completely devoid of magical capacity—the perfect bait for the Inquisition’s trained eyes.
The second tracker is on the terrace of The Bronze Cat, Haruto transmitted through their mental link, directing Aoi’s gaze toward a two-story establishment with a wrought-iron sign.
He’s holding a League registration ledger, but his eyes are scanning the thermal signatures of everyone entering the district.
And the third?
Aoi asked, her fingers lightly brushing the cloth wrapped around her greatsword.
Fifty meters behind us.
He’s been tailing us since we crossed the market archway.
He thinks we haven’t noticed because he’s using a silencing-step enchantment.
Aoi let out a silent chuckle in his mind.
The one behind us is mine.
You take the one on the terrace.
Into the cooperage dead-end, Haruto suggested.
We’ll give them a private space to talk.
They deliberately veered off into a narrow passage flanked by oak barrels and worn brick walls.
The area was pitch-black with no way out.
The tracker trailing them, confident that the two youths had cornered themselves, slipped into the alley entrance and drew a stiletto coated in alchemical paralyzant.
However, the instant he took his first step into the shadows, Aoi dropped from above.
Without needing her blade, Aoi descended with relentless precision, slamming the spy’s face against the brick wall with her palm infused with crimson aura.
The impact was a dull, heavy thud; the man was knocked out cold before he could even gasp.
At the same time, the tracker from the terrace, who had vaulted down from the roof to back up his comrade, landed directly behind Haruto.
He raised a repeating crossbow loaded with holy bolts, but Haruto didn’t even turn around.
“Mass Vector: Zero,” Haruto murmured.
A wave of bluish air expanded from Haruto’s body, freezing the crossbow’s mechanism and pinning the shooter’s joints to the ground with immediate gravitational pressure.
The man dropped to his knees, unable to lift his arms.
Haruto turned around slowly, looking down at the spy with utter coldness.
“Tell Lucian that if he wants our lives, he’ll have to come get them in person.
Valoria is no longer his hunting ground.” With a soft snap of his fingers, Haruto put the second tracker to sleep.
The Vatican’s espionage network in the lower district had been completely dismantled.