The Central Hospital of Valtheris.
A massive institution built to serve the entire kingdom.
Now it served only the nobles.
The halls were quiet.
Not because the people were healthy.
But because most commoners could no longer afford treatment.
Within one of the hospital's private quarters, several doctors hurried into a room.
Sir William Frost lay in bed.
He had only regained consciousness moments earlier.
The nurse assigned to monitor him had immediately called for the doctors.
William tried to sit up.
A sharp pain exploded through the left side of his chest.
He winced and slowly lowered himself back onto the mattress.
One of the doctors immediately stepped forward.
"Sir, please try not to move."
William turned his gaze toward him.
The anger in his eyes made the doctor visibly tense.
"Two of your ribs were broken," the doctor explained nervously.
"We realigned them and wrapped your chest."
He swallowed.
"You'll need time to recover."
William's expression remained cold.
"How long?"
The doctor hesitated.
"At least a few months before you're fully recovered, sir."
William clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Have the guards found the person who attacked me?"
The two guards who had discovered him were standing near the wall.
One of them answered carefully.
"No, sir."
"We never saw the attacker."
"They were gone before we arrived."
William's eyes narrowed.
"What about the boy and the mutt?"
"Have you arrested him and his family?"
The guard's hands tightened.
"No, sir."
"The boy and the dog were gone as well."
William's stare hardened.
"Say that again."
The guard swallowed.
"When we arrived, the boy and the dog were already gone."
The second guard hurriedly stepped in.
"We questioned the crowd, sir."
"But nobody was willing to speak."
For several seconds, silence filled the room.
William's jaw tightened.
His teeth ground together.
But he never raised his voice.
Instead, he slowly exhaled.
"Find that boy."
"Find his family."
"Lock them up."
His voice remained calm.
Which somehow made it worse.
"Use whatever force is necessary."
"Make the witnesses talk."
"I want the person who attacked me found before I recover."
His eyes locked onto the guards.
"Understood?"
The two guards immediately straightened.
"Yes, sir."
William looked away.
"Then get the fuck out."
Neither guard wasted a second.
Both hurried from the room.
Once they were gone, William turned his attention back to the doctor.
"Get me something for this headache."
"And bring me food."
The doctor immediately nodded.
He turned toward a nearby nurse.
"Fetch a meal for Sir Frost."
"Yes, doctor."
The nurse quickly left the room.
The doctor bowed slightly toward William.
"I'll retrieve medicine for your headache immediately, sir."
Without waiting for a response, he hurried after her.
The room finally fell silent.
Meanwhile, the two guards exited the hospital and began making their way toward the alley where they had originally found William.
As the two guards walked through the city, they passed Gareth and Sten on their way to the Guild's bathhouse.
The moment they entered, both stripped off their dirty clothes and handed them to a worker, who carried them away to be washed.
The two then headed into the bathing area.
Zeak and Bren were already there.
Zeak lazily raised an arm from his tub.
"About time."
A few guild members glanced over at the newcomers. Seeing that it was only Gareth and Sten, they quickly returned to soaking in the warm water.
Gareth gave a faint smile and lowered himself into a nearby tub.
"It took longer than expected."
Sten sank into the water up to his chest.
"What are you two still doing here? You got here a long time ago."
Zeak sounded mildly annoyed.
"Lay off, will you?"
He slid deeper into the bath until only his head remained above the surface.
"We're paying for this out of our own pockets."
"We'll stay as long as we want."
Sten let out a sigh.
"Don't expect me to lend you a shoulder when you get lightheaded later."
Zeak waved the warning away.
After a few moments of silence, he asked,
"Where's that guy?"
"You mean Nero?"
Gareth didn't bother turning around.
"He didn't want to come."
Sten snorted.
"Says he's too shy."
"He's planning to wash himself with a bucket of water."
Zeak shrugged.
"Huh."
"His loss."
---
Back at the Silver Moon Inn, Nero walked toward the well behind the building.
A flashlight rested in one hand.
Oblivion and Protector hung securely in their holsters.
The night air was cool.
The distant glow of Thornveil's wildfire still painted the horizon orange.
Nero slowly scanned the area.
No one.
Just as Joe had said.
Even so, he raised several stone walls from the ground, creating a private bathing area.
A large stone tank formed overhead.
Nero spent the next few minutes pulling water from the well and pouring it into the tank.
Once it was finally full, he stepped inside and raised another wall behind him.
He hung his holsters nearby and created a small stone stand for the flashlight.
The beam illuminated the enclosed space.
Then he began removing his clothes.
The mark on his back emerged into view.
Stepping beneath the tank, he tapped the ceiling.
Small holes formed across its underside.
Cold water immediately poured down in dozens of streams.
Nero closed his eyes as the water washed away the dirt, ash, and sweat covering his body.
Using the soap he had brought with him, he scrubbed himself thoroughly before allowing the foam to drain away through a small hole in the floor.
His gaze eventually drifted toward the locket hanging from his neck.
It briefly glinted beneath the flashlight's beam.
For several minutes, he simply stood beneath the falling water.
Eventually the tank emptied.
The last droplets fell.
Silence returned.
Nero dried himself with a towel and changed into fresh clothes.
A coyote-tan T-shirt.
Slate-grey cargo pants.
After securing Oblivion and Protector back onto his belt, he pulled his jacket over them.
His boots followed.
With the flashlight in one hand and his dirty clothes in the other, he left the bathing area.
The towel rested on his head while he dried his damp hair.
Behind him, the stone walls and water tank slowly sank back into the earth.
Before entering the inn, he switched off the flashlight and slipped it into his pocket.
Inside, Elena was cleaning tables for the night.
She looked up when she saw the bundle of clothes in his hands.
"Didn't you wash them?"
Nero closed the door behind him.
"No."
"I'll do it tomorrow."
Elena nodded and returned to her work.
Nero started toward the stairs, then paused.
"Does the inn have any soap for washing clothes that I could borrow?"
Elena looked up again.
"Yes."
"Give me a moment."
She disappeared into the storage room and returned shortly afterward carrying a bar of soap.
Nero placed his clothes on a nearby table and accepted it.
"Thank you."
He examined the bar.
It was yellowish-grey and uneven.
Dark flecks of soot were scattered throughout it.
The texture felt soft and greasy.
Almost like cold lard.
The smell was even worse.
Rancid animal fat.
Old grease.
Woodsmoke.
Nero stared at it for a moment before looking back at Elena.
"Not to sound rude or ungrateful, but... is this the only soap people use?"
Elena blinked.
"Of course."
She sounded genuinely confused.
"That's what soap is."
Nero slowly shook his head.
"I can't use this on my clothes."
"It'll damage them."
A pause.
"And probably make them smell worse."
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the soap he had brought with him.
After removing the wrapper, he handed it over.
"I was hoping for something more like this."
Elena accepted it.
The moment her fingers touched the smooth surface, her eyes widened.
It wasn't greasy.
It didn't smell.
There were no visible impurities.
She turned it over several times in her hands.
"What kind of soap is this?"
"Where did you get it?"
"I've held Castile soap before, but this feels completely different."
Nero quietly watched her reaction.
"So I can assume there isn't any other soap like that around here?"
No response.
Elena remained completely focused on the soap.
Angelo's voice echoed inside Nero's mind.
"She is absolutely fascinated by that thing."
Nero snapped his fingers.
"Hello?"
"Miss Elena?"
She blinked.
"Huh?"
"Oh."
"Sorry."
"Did you say something?"
Nero repeated himself.
"I asked if there is any soap like that here."
Elena's shoulders slumped slightly.
"No."
"Unfortunately not."
Nero folded his arms.
"What do I do now?"
Angelo answered immediately.
"We could just make our own."
Nero replied internally.
"Go on."
"It's not complicated."
"Potassium hydroxide for the base."
"Purified tallow."
"Clean water."
A grin slowly spread across Nero's face as the process came back to him.
Elena noticed immediately.
"Why are you smiling?"
Nero looked up.
"Nothing."
"I'm just thinking about making my own soap."
For the first time since he had arrived at the inn, he saw Elena's eyes truly light up.
"You can make this soap?"
Nero nodded.
Elena immediately stepped closer.
"Can I watch?"
"I can help if you want."
Nero looked at her eager expression and immediately understood what she was after.
"You want a bar."
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
Nero laughed.
Then raised a fist.
"Alright."
"Tomorrow, we make soap."
Elena immediately raised her own fist.
"And I'll help."
The two held the pose for a second.
Then Nero suddenly realized what he was doing.
He awkwardly lowered his arm.
"Anyway."
"It's late."
"I'm going to sleep."
Elena lowered her fist as well and handed the soap back.
Nero took it along with his clothes.
Then headed upstairs toward his room.
---
Back at the bathhouse, Gareth, Sten, Zeak, and Bren finally finished bathing.
After drying themselves off, they left for their homes.
The city had grown quiet.
One by one, the lights of Valtheris went dark as its people settled in for the night.
Far beyond the walls, Thornveil still burned.
The distant orange glow lingered on the horizon, illuminating the darkness.
For now, the fire was contained.
Tomorrow would bring new problems.
— End of Arc VI —