I shook off the lingering pity and set to work, skinning the beast for its hide and meat.
I'd been trained in the art of butchery since I was a child—knowing exactly which parts were worth gold and which were better left for the scavengers. Besides, my storage bracelet had its limits; it couldn't swallow the whole carcass.
The Lunar Deer's hide was magnificent, possessing a shimmering lustre that would fetch an exorbitant price. I decided right then to have it fashioned into luxury garments.
As I finished the carving, I finally found the core.
I hadn't realised how much of a blessing my Green Flame truly was; it usually spared me the messy labour of skinning to reach the core. If not for my gloves, I would have been forced to find a river to wash the gore from my hands.
The Lunar Deer's core was a radiant silver, glowing with the soft intensity of moonlight. With its weight in my hand, my collection for the day was finally complete.
I bid farewell to the Misty Layer and headed for the teleportation circle.
Emerging from the circle, I found the square teeming with people, the usual chaotic swarm of the city.
A man approached me with a practised, polite smile. "Sir, are you looking to sell your catch?"
I offered a curt shake of my head and kept moving toward the exit. Despite the fatigue settling into my bones, I bypassed my home and headed straight for the market.
The trek took nearly an hour. Ordinarily, the carriage made the trip much faster, but today I was on my own two feet. Finally, the silhouette of the marketplace began to take shape.
"Young man! Come, see what I have in stock!"
"No, uncle, I'm fine," I replied, weaving through the shouting vendors.
The air was thick and electric—a heady mix of pungent spices, cured leather, and heavy perfumes. It wasn't a good scent, nor was it particularly bad; it was simply unforgettable. I felt a sudden shiver as a middle-aged woman winked at me, promising a "special discount."
I hurried past her.
Amidst the pressing crowd and the sensory overload, I felt a suspicious hand slip into my pocket. I caught the wrist instantly.
"Ah!"
I spun around to face the culprit. Even with a hooded cloak obscuring their face, the voice gave them away. It was a child, barely ten years old.
"Help! Save me! This man is trying to kidnap me!" the boy shrieked, his voice cutting through the market's roar like a knife.
The atmosphere shifted instantly. Heads turned. Some onlookers watched with knowing, cynical eyes, while others glared at me with rising suspicion.
"Haha... so that's how you want to play it, kid?" I muttered under my breath. "Don't expect an ounce of mercy now."
I turned toward the nearby stalls and stopped at one selling various sundries. "Give me a switch. Something light and flexible," I commanded.
The merchant grinned, sensing an easy mark. He produced a thin stick. "Two silver pieces."
"I'll give you two coppers."
"Deal!" he snapped.
I looked at the merchant and sighed inwardly. I probably should have offered one copper.
I took the switch and turned back to the boy, whose eyes were wide with burgeoning terror. He began to tremble, his bravado crumbling.
"Brother, I'm sorry! Please! I won't do it again!"
I ignored him, dragging him by the collar to the very centre of the market square.
"Please! I only did it because I was hungry!"
"And what about the attempt to ruin my reputation?" I asked coldly. "Since when does hunger justify a frame-up?"
In the middle of the square, I held him firm by the scruff of his neck and began to lash him. His screams drowned out the market's noise, his crying loud and exaggerated to stir the crowd's sympathy. It only made me angrier. I didn't stop for several minutes, not until he was well-drenched in his own tears.
Suddenly, the crowd parted. The market guards had arrived.
The captain stepped forward, his brow furrowed with authority. "Who gave you the right to lash an innocent child in public?"
The boy seized the moment. "Please, sir! Save me!"
I looked at the captain calmly. "He tried to rob me, and then he tried to frame me."
"And do you have proof?" the captain countered. "Besides, do you even have a reputation worth ruining?"
I felt a flash of irritation at his tone, though I understood his position. If I were in his boots, I'd likely say the same. But the spark of hope in the boy's eyes was what truly annoyed me.
I decided to extinguish that hope right then and there.
I pulled my family crest from my cloak and handed it to the captain.
His face went bone-white. He inspected the crest for several heartbeats, his hands trembling slightly. "My apologies, My Lord. According to the law, defaming a noble is a capital offence. How do you wish to settle this?"
Anxiety clouded the captain's face. I gave him a subtle wink, signalling that he didn't need to worry about a bloodbath. He apologised again for the interruption and left me alone with the boy.
The child's face was now a mask of pure despair. The tears had dried on his cheeks, leaving him looking more pathetic than ever. I grabbed his hand and led him to a nearby restaurant.
I ordered a massive feast and sat him down. "This is your final meal before you die," I told him flatly. "Enjoy it."
The kid began to shake uncontrollably, fresh tears spilling over. He tried to look at me with pleading eyes, but one look at my cold expression silenced him.
When the food arrived, the aroma was incredible. Even I felt my mouth water. But the boy had no appetite. To him, this feast was nothing more than a way to fatten him up for the executioner.
I exerted a sliver of my aura, forcing him to eat. He began to swallow the food despite his tremors. After only four bites, he gagged, his stomach turning. "Sir... please... I can't. My stomach hurts."
I stared at him in silence for two full minutes. Then, I called the waiter over and asked for several bags. I had the remaining food packed up, a process that took ten minutes.
I handed the waiter five silver pieces, took the bags, and led the boy outside. He followed me like a ghost, his eyes occasionally darting to the sky as if looking for a sign.
"What's your name, kid?" I asked, finally taking a breath of fresh air.
"S... Simon," he stammered.
"Alright, Simon. I'm letting you go today."
In an instant, the boy's eyes lit up like a phoenix rising from ash.
"But," I warned, my voice dropping to a lethal chill, "if I ever catch you stealing again, don't blame me for the consequences. Take these bags and go. Consider it a reason to stay honest."
The boy stood there in stunned silence, unable to believe his luck. I didn't stick around to watch him process it.
I continued my walk, leaving the common stalls behind. The shops here were grander, built with exquisite architectural detail. I eventually stopped in front of a store bearing the crest of a White Hawk—a place that screamed luxury.
I stepped inside, greeted by a refreshing atmosphere and the sight of fine silks.
"Welcome, how can I help—"
A soft, familiar voice drifted toward me. I turned toward the sound and found myself smiling involuntarily.
"It's been a long time, Banatiya."
Would you like to continue with the conversation between Theodore and Banatiya, or should we see what's happening back at the manor?