Damien, Milo, and the girl strolled through the town’s busy streets, their first stop being a modest clothing store.
Inside, racks of simple, practical outfits lined the walls, and Damien wasted no time selecting items for Milo. After checking out the boy for a few seconds, Damien walked off.
He picked out a few pairs of sturdy trousers, some shirts, a warm jacket, and even a pair of boots that looked just right for a growing boy.
Milo watched in disbelief, his wide eyes darting between Damien and the clothes. “You’re really buying these for me?”
Damien nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Of course. You need something better than those rags.”
The girl chimed in, her voice light and teasing. “He has a point, Milo. Besides, you’ll look much better in these.” She reached over, plucking a scarf from a nearby rack and holding it up to Milo’s neck. “Perfect. What do you think?”
The boy smiled shyly, clearly overwhelmed by their actions.
Damien paid for the clothes and handed the bundle to Milo. “These are yours now,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “No one will take them this time.”
Their next stop was the bustling food market, a sprawling maze of stalls and vendors offering everything from fresh produce to preserved meats.
The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, baked goods, and the salty tang of dried fish.
Damien moved quickly through the stalls, methodically selecting items he knew the orphanage would need: bags of flour, sugar, and milk, as well as preserved meats, dried fruits, and cooking utensils. His list even included bread pans and other baking essentials.
“You’re shopping like you’re feeding an army,” the girl remarked, amusement lacing her tone.
Damien glanced at her, smirking. “Close enough. An orphanage is basically an army of kids.”
By the time he was done, he had spent nearly eighty gold coins, and their cart was piled high with supplies.
Milo stared at the mountain of goods in awe. “This is so much food. Are we really buying all this?”
“We’re not buying it for us,” Damien said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “It’s for everyone back at the orphanage. You won’t go hungry for a while.”
The girl, who had been watching quietly, finally stepped forward. She raised her right arm, revealing a black leather bracelet adorned with a logo of four wings.
“What’s that?” Milo asked, his curiosity piqued.
“It’s called a void key,” Damien explained as the bracelet began to glow faintly. “It can be used to store things one can’t normally carry.”
The girl smirked, activating the void key. One by one, the bags of supplies vanished into its storage space. When the cart was finally empty, she turned to Damien, her expression smug.
“That was impressive,” Damien admitted.
“I’m just as full of surprises as you are,” she said, giving him a playful wink.
Their final stop was the orphanage, a modest building tucked away in a quieter part of town. The structure was plain but well-maintained, with children playing in the yard under the watchful eye of a caretaker.
As they approached, a woman in her mid-thirties hurried toward them. Her gaze softened when she saw Milo, though concern quickly clouded her features as she noticed his new clothes and the faint bruises still visible on his arms.
“Milo! What happened?” she asked, pulling him into a protective embrace.
She turned to Damien and the girl and gestured for them to follow her as she headed inside the building.
They soon settled down on wooden chairs within one of the rooms with a table between them.
The girl nudged Damien forward. “Go ahead, tell her what happened.”
Damien sighed and recounted the events of the day. He described Milo’s theft, the punishment he’d endured, and how Damien had stepped in to intervene.
Damien explained their trip to the potion shop and the food market, concluding with the supplies they had brought.
The caretaker’s eyes welled up with tears as she listened. When Damien motioned to the girl, signaling her to retrieve the supplies, the woman’s composure broke. Tears streamed down her face as she thanked them profusely.
“You’ve done so much,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”
Milo clung to her side, tears of his own slipping down his cheeks. The other children gathered around, their faces lighting up at the sight of the food and supplies.
Damien offered a small smile. “No need to repay me. Just take care of the kids.”
Before leaving, he handed the caretaker two Grade Six essence cores. “These should help if you need more funds,” he said.
The woman stared at the cores, her hands trembling. “You’re a blessing,” she whispered.
As they stepped outside the orphanage, the girl suddenly stopped and turned to Damien.
“I need to go,” she said abruptly.
Damien blinked, surprised. “So soon?”
She offered a faint smile. “I have somewhere important to be.”
Before he could ask her name or thank her properly, she was already walking away.
He watched her retreating figure, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Something told him their paths would cross again.
After bidding farewell to the caretaker and Milo, Damien stood outside the orphanage, contemplating his next move.
The words of the cottage owner echoed in his mind. ‘Human traitors… mercenaries…’
An idea formed in his head, and a small smile tugged at his lips. If he wanted to gather information without raising suspicion, blending in as a Mercenary Dunter seemed like the perfect cover. He’d claimed it earlier. Now he’d play the part.
He wandered through the town, scanning for a mercenary base. It didn’t take long to find a small building tucked between two larger shops. The structure was unassuming, but the sign above the door marked it as a hub for mercenaries.
Damien stepped inside, his silver eyes immediately taking in his surroundings. The air smelled faintly of leather and steel, and several individuals loitered around, studying a mission board or exchanging information.
As he approached the counter, Damien froze, his lips curling into a faint smirk. Standing behind the desk was none other than the girl he had just parted ways with.
She looked up, her expression shifting from surprise to amusement.
“It’s you again,” Damien said, leaning casually against the counter.
She returned his smirk, a playful glint in her eyes. “It is me again.”
