The sun was high over Fareday, and the Legends Booth was humming with a newfound, terrifying efficiency. With Diana now part of the rotation, the chaos had a professional sheen to it. She organized the queue, kept Kirian from posing for too long, and managed to look elegant even while handing out flyers for "Emilia's Guaranteed-To-Work Love Potions."
The potions, naturally, did not work. One customer claimed it just made them crave onions, and another broke out in harmless but very bright purple spots.
"Market research!" Emilia shouted over the noise, undeterred. "Every failure is just a step toward a premium price tag!"
They spent the morning hanging banners for the local theater troupe and even filled in as background extras for a quick rehearsal. But just as the post-lunch lethargy began to set in, a frantic woman approached the booth, clutching her handkerchief.
"My grandmother's ring!" she wailed. "It slipped right through the grate near the fountain! Please, you're the Legends… you have to get it back!"
Kirian puffed out his chest, ignoring the faint scent of garlic lingering from the love potion debacle. "Worry not, citizen! No depth is too deep for—"
"It's in the sewers," the woman interrupted.
Kirian's heroic smile faltered. "…The sewers. Right. The dark, damp, incredibly smelly sewers."
Ten minutes later, the five of them were descending the rusted ladder into the bowels of Fareday. The smell hit them like a physical wall—a thick, humid cocktail of rot, damp stone, and things best left unmentioned.
"I take it back," Gaius muttered, covering his nose with his sleeve. "The rope was better than this."
As they waded through the ankle-deep muck, they stumbled upon a bizarre clearing in the tunnels. Torchlight flickered against the damp walls, illuminating a makeshift arena. A crowd of rats and squirrels were gathered in a frenzy, squeaking and chattering around two combatants in the center.
"Is that… a rat vs. squirrel fight club?" Emilia whispered, squinting.
In the middle of the ring, a scarred squirrel was currently suplexing a rat twice its size. The prize sat in the corner: a crate of bruised, fermented apples. Lili stopped walking, her eyes wide and attentive. She pulled out a small notebook and started jotting down notes on the squirrel's technique.
"Lili, we are on a mission," Kirian hissed, tugging her arm. "We are not betting on rodent wrestling!"
They pushed deeper into the tunnels until they reached a room that seemed to defy the filth around it. From the doorway, it looked magnificent—an eerie, radiant glow emanated from the center, reflecting off what looked like a mountain of gold and jewels.
"The Motherlode!" Emilia gasped, her eyes practically turning into gems. "We're rich! The booth is retired! We're buying the capital!"
They scrambled forward, only to stop dead. Up close, the "radiant glow" was just bioluminescent moss growing on a pile of rusted birdcages, broken gears, and discarded tin cans.
"It's literal trash," Lili said, her voice dripping with disappointment. She poked a glowing tin can with her umbrella. "Gross."
"Found it!" Gaius called out, reaching into a crevice near the mossy pile. He held up the silver ring, though he looked thoroughly annoyed by the grime coating his fingers. "Can we leave now? I feel like the smell is becoming a part of my soul."
"Not so fast," a gravelly voice echoed through the tunnel.
Heavy footsteps approached—the uneven thud of one leather boot and one wooden peg leg. Out of the shadows stepped a man who looked like he had been forgotten by time and hygiene alike. His clothes were a patchwork of sea-worn rags, and his beard was so thick and matted it looked like a self-sustaining ecosystem for local moss. Atop his head sat a weathered hat with a cracked skull emblem.
On his shoulder sat a creature—not a parrot, but a long, unnervingly thin giant lizard that hissed at them.
"I be Cornelius Neiman," the man growled, drawing a rusted cutlass. "Former Captain of the Salty Scourge. I've hidden in these tunnels for twenty years since the war ended. I'm a fugitive, and dead men tell no secrets."
"Twenty years?" Kirian blinked. "You've been living in birdcage alley for twenty years? Sir, your commitment to the bit is incredible, but we're just here for a ring."
"I cannot let ye leave alive!" Cornelius roared, lunging forward with surprising speed for a man with a wooden leg.
He swiped at Kirian, who barely parried with his practice sword. Cornelius was a seasoned brawler; he quickly overpowered Kirian, knocking him back against the damp wall. Lili retreated to a safe distance, her umbrella closed—she wasn't a front-line fighter.
Gaius stepped in, drawing his own wooden training sword. "I really hate this day," he sighed, stepping into a defensive stance. He couldn't use a real blade, but his movements were sharp and disciplined.
Emilia pulled a coil of rope from her pack. "Gaius, distract him! I'll snag his good leg!" She threw the rope, but the old pirate was deceptively fast, dodging the loop with a practiced roll.
Suddenly, a shadow flickered.
Diana, who had been lingering in the back, moved like a blur of black and white silk. Before Cornelius could swing again, she appeared directly behind him. With a precise, lightning-fast strike to the back of his neck, the pirate captain crumpled to the floor.
"Target neutralized," Diana said calmly, smoothing her apron. "His footwork was sloppy."
They quickly tied the unconscious pirate up with Emilia's rope. When he woke up, groaning, they stared him down.
"Look, Captain," Kirian said, wiping a smudge of sewer grime off his face. "We're the Quadrate Legends. We don't care about the war, and we definitely don't care about your secret. We just want to go home and burn these clothes."
Cornelius looked at them, then at the formidable maid standing guard. He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Fair enough. Ye have the hearts of… well, very smelly heroes."
After being freed on the condition that he stayed out of their way, the team finally emerged back into the fresh air of Fareday. The lady was overjoyed to have her ring back, though she held it with two fingers at arm's length.
"To the Zennon estate!" Kirian declared, pointing toward the hill. "A bath awaits!"
"I'm going back to the orphanage," Gaius said, turning to walk away.
"Oh no you don't," Emilia said, grabbing his collar. "You were in the trenches with us. You smell like a fermented apple. You're coming with us for a scrubbing."
"I don't want a scrubbing!" Gaius protested, but Diana was already behind him, her hand firm on his shoulder.
"It is a matter of public safety, Master Gaius," Diana said with a polite, terrifying smile. "Please do not resist."
Gaius looked at the maid, then at the "Legends," and finally accepted his fate. It was going to be a very long afternoon.