Anemoi 21 – Anemoi 22, Imperial Year 1645
The Capital, Luminara – The Hunters' Hall
The morning shift was quiet. Margot – grey‑streaked hair, scarred knuckles – sat behind the counter, updating her ledger. The other clerk, Elara – young, freckled, auburn hair in a messy bun – sorted through bounty notices.
"Another goblin nest." Elara held up a parchment. "Three silver a head."
"He'll take it."
"How do you know?"
Margot didn't look up. "He always takes it."
The door chimed.
The Goblin Slayer entered.
Elara's pen stopped. Her cheeks flushed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Then tucked it again.
He walked to the counter. Dented armor. Scratched helmet. Stained cloak. Set down a leather pouch. Wet sound.
"Goblins."
Margot opened it. Counted. "Twelve?"
He nodded.
"One nest?"
Another nod.
She made a note. "Thirty‑six silver."
He waited. Silent.
Elara slid the coins across. Her hand brushed his gauntlet. She pulled back quickly.
"There's another nest," she said. "South ridge. Farmer's lost three sheep."
He took the coins. "How many?"
"Don't know. Maybe a dozen."
He turned to leave.
"Wait." He stopped. "You could take a map. So you don't get lost."
"I don't get lost."
"I know. Just in case."
He looked at her. The scratched visor made his expression unreadable. Then he took the map.
"Thank you."
He left. Door chimed.
Elara stared at the door. Margot sighed.
"You gave him a map."
"He might need it."
"He's been to the south ridge twenty times."
"Twenty‑one."
Margot's eyebrow went up. "You're counting?"
Elara's face turned red. "No."
"You're hopeless."
"I'm efficient."
"You're infatuated."
"I'm not." Elara picked up a stack of parchments. "He's just… dedicated."
"He's covered in goblin blood."
"Washes off."
"Not from his personality."
Elara set the parchments down. "At least I'm not you."
Margot raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Alucard. Black coat. Silver hair. You practically melt when he walks in."
Margot's pen stopped. "I do not melt."
"You called him 'impossible' and smiled. That's melting."
"That's professionalism."
"That's flirting."
The door chimed.
Both clerks looked up.
Vlad entered. Black coat, silver buttons. Wide‑brimmed hat. Walked to the counter.
Margot straightened her shoulders. Adjusted her ledger. "Alucard."
"The coven's head. You wanted proof."
He set a sack on the counter. Thud.
Margot opened it. Peered inside. Closed it quickly. "That's… sufficient."
"The rest of the bounty."
She counted coins. Her fingers trembled slightly. "Four hundred."
He took them. Turned.
"There's a witch in the western valley." Her voice came too quick. "Reports of missing children."
"I'll take it."
"You don't want to rest?"
"Witches don't rest."
He left. Door chimed.
Elara grinned. "You melted."
"I did not."
"You stammered."
"I did not stammer."
"You said 'that's sufficient' like you were proposing."
Margot threw a quill. Elara ducked. Both women laughed.
The Counter – Afternoon
The Goblin Slayer returned. Cloak wetter. Sword notched. Set down another pouch.
"Goblins."
Margot opened it. Counted. "Eight?"
He nodded.
"South ridge?"
Another nod.
Elara slid the coins across. "Twenty‑four silver."
He took them. Didn't move.
"Something else?" Elara asked.
"The map. It was accurate."
Her heart skipped. "I… good. I'm glad."
He turned.
"The goblin slayer." Margot's voice. He paused. "There's a hunter asking about you. Alucard. Hunts witches."
"Not interested."
"Might want to team up."
"I work alone."
He left.
Elara watched the door. Margot watched Elara.
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Staring."
"I'm observing."
"You're infatuated."
"I'm appreciating dedication."
Margot snorted. "Same thing."
End of Chapter One Hundred Six