“Lady Sollar. Milady, wake up.”

General Forge was trying to shake the Demonfolk girl awake. She groaned and bundled up further into the bedsheets.

“Alright, if that doesn’t work...” he muttered.

The Demonfolk General stepped over to the window and threw open the shutters. Sunlight shone directly on Sollar, making her yelp.

“Gah!” Sollar exclaimed. “Bright light! Bright light!”

The Demonfolk girl writhed around on the bed before she rolled right off, hitting the wood floor with a loud thump. The Demonfolk General winced, running over to her side.

“Milady!” he yelled. “Are you okay?”

He looked over to the side of the bed that Sollar had fallen off of, to see that the Demonfolk girl was tangled in her bedsheets.

“I’m okay,” she said, blinking open her eyes. “But you scared me.”

“At least you’re awake,” the Demonfolk General said. “I’m no maid or anything, so I can’t really prepare you for the morning. Least I could do was to make sure you woke up on time.”

“For what?” the Demonfolk girl asked.

“For... the fast ship trip,” the Demonfolk General replied. “To the Capital, so you can meet your brother.”

Sollar had a moment of recognition; General Forge could see it in her eyes as she recalled the events of the previous night.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “We have to go to get money! Right!”

The Demonfolk girl tried to struggle out of the blankets she was tangled in, which prompted General Forge to help her.

“Be careful, Milady,” he muttered. “Don’t get yourself hurt.”

“I’m not hurt!” she said.

“Still. You need to be careful.”

After the both of them had tidied up the room and prepared for the morning, they had gone out onto the streets of New Frontierland. This was the first time that they've seen New Frontierland in its full glory, in the morning daylight.

Most of the streets that the buildings were built around were ones that were parallel to the coast. The roads that led to the coasts had corner stores, but typically sloped downward directly into the bay.

The aroma of freshly-baked meat pies made the pair realize they were hungry. So, General Forge went to one of the bakeries to purchase some for the two.

Sollar nibbled on the hot pastry wrap, as General Forge scarfed his down. He was glancing left and right, trying to remember the conversation he had with the Wisp last night.

“Strellson Supplies... Strellson Supplies... where in the world is it?” General Forge muttered. The Wisp mentioned that it was a corner store, so it was probably at one of the intersections up or down the block.

After a few minutes of walking, his thought process was interrupted.

“Gen-rall!” Sollar exclaimed.

“Yes, Milady?” General Forge asked, turning around to look at her.

“No,” the Demonfolk girl replied. “Gen-rall! Over there!”

She was pointing at something on the other side of the street. For just a moment, the Demonfolk General thought that Sollar might’ve been referring to one of the other Demonfolk Generals. However, she was pointing at the next best thing.

A large sign was above the corner store. Emblazoned on it was ‘Strellson Supplies’, and underneath it was a smaller ‘General Store’ sign. Despite the morning hours, it seemed that not many people were around, either in the store or wandering about.

“Nicely spotted, Lady Sollar,” General Forge said. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The glass windows of the establishment allowed the duo to see the variety of merchandise inside. Lined up were a variety of products, from candles and jarred food to necessities such as flour, salt, and sugar.

As General Forge opened the door, a bell hanging to the door frame rang. He held the door open to allow Sollar to step through. As he waited for her to step in, the Demonfolk General glanced around the store, to see who was in there.

Two shoppers were browsing or idly looking at what was on display. There was an impressive display of merchandise across the entire store, even with a front counter with what appeared to be a menu for even more products or services on it.

An old man with white hair was at the counter. General Forge assumed that it was Strellson in question. He certainly looked like someone named ‘Strellson’.

“Good morning, welcome to Strellson’s supplies. Lookin’ for something today?” the man asked.

“I’m looking for a job,” General Forge said. “A short term one. Someone said I could go to you for one.”

Immediately, Strellson’s demeanor changed. Not in the bad way, but the old man’s smile seemed to widen as he tilted his head down. Both his hands came together, almost like he was scheming.

“Really? Who referred me to you?” he asked.

“A Wisp named Winnsol,” General Forge said. “You know her?”

“Winnol, huh? Yes, I do know her. She buys some equipment from me. And is a good source of information.”

He said the last sentence in a slightly hushed tone. The atmosphere felt a little tense as General Forge realized that he could interpret that sentence in about a half-dozen ways. Even Sollar could feel it, she was tugging on the Demonfolk General’s sleeve.

“Forr-ar,” she whispered. “I don’t like it here.”

Despite that, the Demonfolk General persisted.

“Well, I’m just looking for a job. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more? Really?” Strellson asked.

General Forge shrugged. “I mean, why else would I be here? To buy flour?”

Strellson scrutinized the two of them for about twenty seconds. Then, he dropped the demeanor, and grinned.

“Well, ain’t that a relief?” he asked. “I don’t mind helping a pair of fellows just looking to make an honest buck.”

“Huh?” General Forge asked. “What do you mean? And what was that about?”

Strellson shielded his face and gestured for General Forge to step closer.

“Considering you’re one of the wanted Demonfolk Generals, I’d have assumed you were here for some other reason. One that wouldn’t have been good for conducting my business,” the store owner whispered.

Now that had brought General Forge on guard, as the man moved his hand down. His halberd was on his back, the poleaxe wrapped in cloth to make it look like a set of tools.

Strellson raised both of his arms, but kept his smile.

“Oh, changing your mind, young’un?” he asked. “I hope not.”

However, General Forge was focused on a different thing.

“How do you know that I’m one of the Generals?” he asked. “I never mentioned that to anyone.”

“A little Wisp brought me the information. Said I was gonna be meeting you sometime this morning,” the Human store owner replied. “Now, of course, I’m gonna be a little skeptical of a fella like you. Can’t blame me, can you?”

“No, I can’t,” General Forge replied. “But I don’t think you should be worried about me doing anything. I want to keep a low profile.”

“You could rob me right now instead of going ahead with the job proposal,” Strellson replied. “Would help ya free the Demon Lord... or whatever it is you want to do.”

“Well, let’s say I was doing something illegal,” General Forge said. “Why would I bring even more attention by doing something like robbing you? If I had some ulterior, wide-spanning motives, I definitely wouldn’t want to bring attention to myself doing something as petty as robbery.”

“Fair point,” Strellson said, lowering his arms. “I like you. Intelligent young man you are. So! What is it you need then? Just a job? What kind?”

“A job that’s quick, less than a few hours. Pays really well,” General Forge said.

“Well...” the store owner said, his eyebrows furring. “There ain’t a lot of those types of jobs around, I gotta be honest. You’d be hard-pressed to get one.”

The Demonfolk General felt like he was forgetting something, then realized what he was. He grabbed his bag of coins and fished for one, then flicked it over to Strellson.

The old man caught it midair, glanced at it to verify its authenticity, then winked.

“Good move,” Strellson said. He pocketed the small steel coin. “Lean in a bit, I don’t wanna just say this out loud, alright?”

“Why not?” General Forge asked, leaning in. Sollar bound up right behind the Demonfolk General, mimicking the movement, even if she wasn’t sure what for.

“The Mage’s got ears all over this city. She don’t like me, only reason she don’t mess with me is because Ronn likes me,” the store owner admitted. “And, I’ll be honest here. I don’t like her either. So, take advantage of this, but keep the info to yourself. And don’t say a peep where you were told this.”

General Forge nodded. “Got it. But, wait, you mentioned the ‘Mage’? You’re doing business with her?”

Sollar nodded with him, then flashed Strellson a smile.

“Charming girl you brought here,” Strellson said.

“She’s my cousin,” came the Demonfolk General’s immediate response.

Soon, Strellson’s voice then quieted down to a whisper as he began talking about what the two were there for.

“Anyway, no. I’m not working with the Mage. But I’ve run across some information about her. Rumors say that Fraul’s short on labor. Her load crews have gone on strike.”

“Going on strike?” General Forge asked. “What does that mean?”

Strellson placed both hands on the counter. “Ah, forgot. You’re probably from the Frontier, they don’t do strikes out there.”

“Well, what is it? If it’s so important.”

“Not hard to understand,” the general store owner said. “Simply put, Fraul’s workers have stopped working. They’re demanding better pay and benefits or else they won’t work anymore.”

“So they’ve quit?” the Demonfolk General asked. “Even though they’re under the employment of a member of the Hero Party?”

“It sounds like they’re lazy!” Sollar exclaimed, as quiet as she could exclaim with her whispers.

“They ain’t lazy, girl,” Strellson said. “They’re still employed. But they’ve got demands and won’t work ‘till those demands are met. Once they are, they’ll immediately get back to working.”

“Why doesn’t Fraul just... hire more people?” Forge asked.

“That takes time and training. But, she’s trying to. In fact, the lady is paying a ton to anyone who’s willing to work for her while she waits this out.”

“Sounds good to me,” General Forge said, shrugging. “I might as well go and snatch a job. Where should I go?”

“Wait up a second, lad,” Strellson said. “She’s probably in the warehouse district. But, before you go, I gotta give you a warning.”

General Forge stared at the store owner. “You’re saying it’s dangerous? We shouldn’t go? Make up your mind.”

“Well, you can go. But everyone’ll see you as a dirty little scab, so if you wanna build relationships here, I don’t recommend it.”

Forge simply gave Strellson a blank stare.

“You don’t know what a scab is, do ye?”

“Of course not!” General Forge exclaimed. “Again, I came in from the Frontier. I didn’t know what a ‘strike’ or a ‘scab’ was prior to today.”

“Do you intend to stay here?”

“I plan on taking the first ship to the Capital. Once I have the money, I’m out of this place.”

Strellson leaned back. “Then you shouldn’t have any of the issues I talked about earlier. Take the job and get out of the city... once you do, I recommend getting out quick.”

“Are you saying that being a ‘scab’ is dangerous?” the Demonfolk General asked.

“Absolutely not, if you’re talking about physical danger,” Strellson said. “Law enforcement in the town is superb, nobody will be attacking you outta the blue. No, what’s more likely to happen is that people will remember that you worked as a scab under Fraul, and they’d deny you from working for them.”

“I don’t get it,” Sollar spoke up.

“Well, put it this way, lass,” Strellson said. “Short-term gain, long-term loss. You get a lot of money now, but people won’t wanna do business with you later, because you’re a dirty scab. You see?”

“But how can a ‘scab’ thing be dirty?”

The store owner leaned on his heels, and sighed.

“She ain’t that bright, isn’t she? No matter, just follow what I said. Get outta town once you got your cash.”

“Well, if that’s so, it won’t be much of a problem for us,” General Forge stated. “Anything else we need to know?”

“Fraul should be in the warehouse district, that’s where she’s likely recruiting the labor,” Strellson said. “And... I can’t think of anything else. That should be it.”

“Okay, we’ll be going now,” the Demonfolk General said. “Sollar, let’s go.”

Before the two exited the store, however, Strellson said something.

“Wait,” the old man said. He grabbed something from behind the counter, before aiming to toss it at them.

“Hey, lad. And lass,” he said. “Take this.”

Both General Forge and Sollar managed to catch the item that Strellson tossed to them. Immediately after catching it, the Demonfolk girl glanced at the wrapper.

“Hon... ney. Clo-oves,” Sollar said, sounding out the name on the packaging of the item given to her.

“It’s a candy bar,” Strellson said. “You fellas paid me well for information. Might as well return the favor, those are on the house.”

General Forge glanced at the candy bar, then back to Strellson.

“Thanks, I suppose,” General Forge said. “And the information is helpful, too.”

“Don’t mention it,” Strellson said. “Just refer more people to my store, that’d be mighty helpful. Those candy bars were made in-house, if you like ‘em come back for more!”

The two then exited the store. Sollar immediately started tearing into the candy bar, ripping off the paper wrapping and taking a bite out of it.

“Mmm!” she exclaimed. “It’s sweet! And crunchy!”

General Forge glanced at his own paper-wrapped ‘candy bar’, but pocketed it instead.

“Let’s go, Lady Sollar,” he said. “We’re gonna try to get some money from Fraul. Of all people.”

“Fraul?” Sollar asked, between bites of the candy bar. “Who’s she?”

“Someone I hoped to never meet again,” the Demonfolk General replied.

They made their way up the streets, to the warehouse district of New Frontierland. For one reason or another, the warehouses of the city were built further up the outskirts of the city, as compared to most cities that might have their warehouses scattered near the center, or closer to the coast.

It was a suboptimal location to put warehouses, especially if a siege were to happen. That’s what General Forge thought, mostly from personal experience. The Human strongholds that had been hardest to break were ones with well-protected warehouses.

But this was after the war. The Demonfolk General still had difficulty adjusting from that mindset, as his eyes scanned over the design of the buildings.

Further from the dockyards of the city, the buildings had been designed rather interestingly. They had firing ports, to shoot bows and crossbows outward, but not inward. There weren’t any doors facing away from the docks, either. And the buildings, as a whole, were very reinforced.

New Frontierland was placed at a very disadvantageous position. It seemed that the Humans considered this by designing the buildings in a way where if they’re captured, they couldn’t be used against the defenders.

This pattern stopped the moment the pair stepped past the low-lying walls of inner New Frontierland, to the outer warehouse districts.

“This seems like new development,” General Forge muttered.

“I can tell!” Sollar exclaimed, munching on the candy bar she was holding.

“You can?” General Forge asked. He doubted it.

“Yes!” the Demonfolk girl exclaimed. “There’s none of the green plant stuff growing on the walls!”

He glanced at where she was pointing. The girl was right, there wasn’t any moss on the newer buildings.

Not that it was information that was strictly relevant or important to know.

It wasn’t long before they entered the central plaza of the warehouse district. There were wagons rolling about, many of them drawn by horses or oxen. Several cranes protruded from second-floor doors of the warehouses, lifting heavy goods off of wagons and carts. There were even a few short silos around, with various men and women hoisting hand-cranked conveyor belts covered in grain.

“It’s busy here,” General Forge said. “Never thought New Frontierland would be this big of a powerhouse.”

“But there’s something going on over there!” Sollar exclaimed. She pointed down the plaza, where General Forge could also indeed see commotion going on.

“...Is that the strike that Strellson was talking about?” the Demonfolk man asked.

There was a sizable group of Humans who were holding up signs. Scribbled on the signs were a variety of slogans that said some rather unflattering things about Fraul.

“We demand access to Fraul’s potion stash!” the person up front exclaimed. He was projecting his voice with an acoustic megaphone. “Don’t work for the Mage, unless she gives us those potions!”

The chanting and clamoring reminded General Forge of the War, and in a bad way. He didn’t doubt that he could take on most of them, even with his halberd in its current state.

“Just remember!” the man up front yelled. “She’ll toss you to the curb like she’s done to us!”

The Demonfolk General’s intuition was telling him that he should still stay away, especially if he wanted to keep a low profile with Sollar.

“Sollar, let’s go,” General Forge said, grabbing the Demonfolk girl by the shoulder to guide her away. The Demonfolk General wasn’t sure where to even find Fraul in the first place.

Going down the alleyway, though, he could hear an argument between a woman and a man. The pair continued walking, but slower. The argument seemed to get lower as they neared the next street.

“What do you mean, the load crew is still on strike?” came a shrill female voice.

General Forge peeked around the corner. He immediately spotted a wagon and stacks of wooden crates in the next alleyway, accompanied by two individuals.

A man in work clothes crossed his arms and shook his head. “They’re not budging on their demands. That’s what they told me. I can’t negotiate with that.”

The woman who was speaking to the man was someone that General Forge could recognize immediately. It was Fraul, the Hero Party’s mage.

Fraul shook her head and continued speaking. “These workers are entitled. I’m willing to employ them, and now they go around and do this to me?”

“Healers are more expensive now,” the man continued. “Because of the price of magic potions now. They can’t afford it if they become ill, that’s their main point of content.”

The Mage then punched the wall.

“Confound it!” Fraul exclaimed. “I can’t just give them access to those potions! They cost a lot and are necessary to my operations!”

She retracted her fist from the wall, which was now a little bruised from the punch.

General Forge realized the danger of the situation they were in right now. What was he thinking, trying to get employment from the Mage, of all people?

However, he needed money. Even if Fraul recognized him, he could... probably threaten her? He was very sure he could; she was most terrifying at range, but magic users were typically more vulnerable when close-up.

So much for trying to lie low.

General Forge gestured to Sollar to step quietly, as the two of them stepped into the alleyway, towards the voice of the woman.

“Find me someone who can do it, Ralek,” Fraul continued. “I need this done by tonight!”

The man, who was named Ralek, shook his head. “There’s no way. Unless someone were to walk out of that alleyway right now and you offered them a healthy sum of money to do it.”

He had immediately pointed his thumb in the direction of General Forge and Sollar, without even seeing the two. Fraul glanced over Ralek’s shoulder and noticed the two.

“Hey, good idea, Ralek!” she exclaimed. The woman patted him on the shoulder, stepping past him, as a confused Ralek glanced behind him to see who Fraul was even referring to.

“Both of you, I’ve got a job for you two!” Fraul exclaimed. “And I’m willing to give some good pay for it!”

Meanwhile, the Demonfolk General froze the moment she called out to him. Because, of course, the person who called out to him in question was the Mage.

The Mage, as in Madame Fraul. Fraul had a legendary status as a dangerous opponent to fight against during the War. The Mage was able to do anything relating to attack magic, from summoning storms to smash forts to debris, to summoning a rain of fire and explosions that could flatten armies.

That same Mage was currently beckoning the two towards her.

“Stay behind me, Sollar,” General Forge muttered. He, indeed, perked up when she mentioned that she’d ‘pay them’, but he was apprehensive at the specific job she had in store.

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” the Mage asked. “Good pay isn’t enough, or what?”

General Forge stepped up slowly to Fraul. Sollar flanked him, almost hiding herself in his shadow.

“Hey, look. I don’t bite,” Fraul said. “Why’re you two walking so slowly?”

“For obvious reasons,” General Forge replied. “You don’t mind that we’re a pair of Demonfolk just swooping around the warehouse district?”

“The way you put that makes it sound like you’re committing some crime,” Fraul added. “Hold up, let me light this place up. The alleyways are usually dark...”

The Mage held out her magical staff, as a violet light illuminated the surrounding walls. Some bulbs of the purple light split off from the top of her staff and hovered into the air.

However, the moment the light glanced off of General Forge’s red irises, the Mage gave him a suspicious squint. She began to scrutinize his appearance, her eyes scanning over his face.

General Forge was nervous. There was a glimmer of recognition in the Mage’s eyes.

“Hey, you’re that — what was your rank, one of the Generals, right?”

General Forge froze.

“You still recognize me?” the Demonfolk man asked.

Fraul was snapping her fingers, trying to recall the name. “General... Fern? Fort... Farm... Forge! That was your name, General Forge!”

“General Forge?” Ralek, the man accompanying Fraul, exclaimed. “Him? Really? Wasn’t he one of the most feared Demonfolk Generals to be fighting one-on-one in the war?”

“Feared? Me?” General Forge asked. “I’m pretty sure General Brington has that title...”

The Mage broke out in a grin after Ralek’s statement. “This is great, actually!”

The Demonfolk General gave a wary glance at the Mage. “You’re not going to report me, are you?”

The only reason General Forge was not turning tail and running was due to the fact that Fraul was at least happy at his presence. That, and he wanted to get paid.

“Report you? What for?” Fraul asked.

“I don’t know... for the War, or something along those lines. You were with the Hero Party, right?”

Fraul, in the meanwhile, seemed unconcerned by that.

“Bah! The War ended months ago, let bygones be bygones,” the Mage replied, waving it off. “You’re a former General, that must mean you’re strong. Right?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” General Forge asked.

“I have a job I need done,” Fraul continued. “My employees had the audacity to get sick.”

General Forge held out a hand. “Now wait up, lady. I’m looking for a job, sure, but I need to hear the details first—”

“I’ll pay you a lot of money.”

Fraul immediately held up a moderately sized sack full of coins. General Forge stopped talking.

“You’ll pay us that much?” he echoed.

“Yep,” Fraul replied. “I’ll pay you. This is only half of it, which is paid upfront. Full of assorted coins, I think. Not sure what’s in it, but you can take it all after the job is done.”

He peered at the bag of cash.

“You’ll pay us that right now,” he said. His voice was cautiously optimistic. “As in, we get and keep that cash you’re holding in your hand.”

“Yep. I need this all unloaded by this evening. Once you’re done, you get the second half of it.”

Ralek tried to intervene.

“Madame, I believe it’d be in poor taste and a bad idea to hire these two—” he was about to say, but Fraul held her arm up to stop him.

“Ralek. You are dismissed, make sure I don’t find you questioning me again. Understand?”

“...Yes, Madame,” he muttered, before stepping away into the warehouse.

General Forge kept his eyes on the Human worker, before he looked back at Fraul.

“How much?” he asked.

“Here, you can see for yourself.”

Fraul tossed the bag of coins at Forge. He caught it midair, and cautiously peered inside it. There were a large amount of coins inside, all of various types, as promised.

“Oh, and don’t try to run off with it. I’ve been keeping my magic honed,” the Mage said.

General Forge glanced at Fraul again, looking up from the bag.

“Who just has a bag of coins lying around?”

“I do, apparently,” Fraul replied. “Probably all my spare change. It’s pocket money to me, so you can take it all.”

Pocket change. The Demonfolk General thought otherwise; this amount of cash could feed a family for months! For that, it only made him more suspicious.

“What are you even doing that you’re offering to pay me this much for?”

“Are you taking the job, or not?”

General Forge looked between Fraul and the bag of cash.

“At least tell me what the job is, first,” he said.

“Sure. Over here...”

The Mage pointed to a wagon filled with various wooden boxes and crates.

“Your job is to unload all this into the warehouse behind me,” she said. “Get it done by tonight, so you should have plenty of time.”

“Boxes of...?” Forge asked.

Fraul twirled her index finger into the air. “You’re being paid to not know what it is.”

General Forge’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

“That’s the only condition,” Fraul said. “Do not look inside the boxes. That is all.”

The Demonfolk General raised an eyebrow at that condition. Alarm bells were ringing in his mind, mostly because he was trying to figure out what Fraul didn’t want him to know.

The only thing reassuring him was the fact that the Mage was... the Mage. Surely a member of the Hero Party itself wasn’t the type to do something legally dubious? Perhaps she simply had a discrete business venture that she planned to unveil at a later date.

It wasn’t his duty to speculate what the Hero Party’s members did, so he ignored those internal speculations. 

“I’m asking because I ain’t gonna be the one taking this job here. My cousin is going to.”

“You have a cousin?” Fraul asked. She looked behind General Forge, at the girl who was standing behind him. The apricot-haired girl was quiet, peering at the Mage with wide eyes. She had been listening in on the conversation the entire time.

“Yeah, her,” General Forge continued.

Fraul looked between the two, before she shrugged. “I don’t see a resemblance, but okay. What’s her name?”

“Her name’s Sol—”

General Forge stopped.

“Uh, it’s Sol. Just Sol.”

Sollar frowned.

“Sol, huh,” Fraul said. “Well then—”

That was when the Demonfolk girl spoke up.

“That’s not my—!” she tried to yell.

General Forge held up an arm, interrupting her.

That act did nothing to alleviate the Mage’s suspicions. Fraul narrowed her eyes.

“I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?”

“And the way I see it, there’s something you’re also hiding. Aren’t you?” the General retorted.

Fraul stepped up to General Forge.

“You claim I’m hiding something?”

“Why else don’t you want us looking in the boxes?”

The two glared at each other.

“...Fine, I won’t question whatever’s up with you, as long as you keep your eyes out of the boxes,” Fraul conceded. “Just so long as you get this job here done. Get that?”

General Forge nodded. “Yeah. Just as long as we get the whole payment, we won’t say anything on our end.”

He reached his hand out to offer a handshake. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

General Forge and Fraul shook hands.

Fraul was the one who broke off the handshake.

“Well, I’ll be away for other important matters. But don’t try to skimp on the job with all that money in your hands already, I’ll know!” she said. “And I can figure out where you ran off to.”

“Right, you are the Mage after all,” General Forge added.

“Glad we can get to that understanding. Now, I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on, deals to close, more people to hire. Money to make!”

The Mage skipped away, leaving General Forge and Sollar by themselves on the relatively dark street.

“So,” General Forge said. “She wants us to... unload all these boxes into this warehouse here.”

He pointed from the wagon to the opened doors of the warehouse.

“That sounds simple!” Sollar exclaimed. “I can lift boxes easy!”

General Forge, however, shook his head.

“Something about this is off to me,” he continued. “Why at night, why does it need to be done by morning? Why did she just overlook the fact that I’m literally General Forge?”

“You ask too many questions!” Sollar exclaimed. “And I don’t know the answers. We should do the job before the Fraul woman gets mad.”

Right. Sollar was, ironically, being the voice of reason here.

“Alright, whatever you say, Milady.”

General Forge immediately picked up one of the boxes. It was somewhat heavy, but not so heavy that he couldn’t lift it. Sollar was having even less trouble lifting the boxes, based on how effortlessly she could pick up two.

The Demonfolk General walked over to the inside of the warehouse, where he witnessed stacks of similar boxes, then stacked that wooden crate neatly on top of another one.

His curiosity was getting the best of them.

“Sollar, don’t you also wonder what’s inside?” he asked. “Maybe we should take a...”

However, just as General Forge started to lift the lid of one of those boxes, the Demonfolk girl slammed the lid down. Right on his fingers.

“Yeouch!” he exclaimed, jumping up. “My Lady!”

The Demonfolk girl wiggled her finger at him. “No looking!”

General Forge held his pulsing-red finger, giving a glare at Sollar. “What was that about, Lady Sollar?”

“Fraul-ar said no looking!”

The Demonfolk General tended to his sore finger as Sollar chastised him.

“But it’s not like she’ll know!” he tried to reason. “She’s not here right now, right?”

“Nuh-uh!” Sollar replied. “She knows if we leave with the money! She can also know if we look inside! So we don’t.”

“Frankly, I don’t think she can actually know, Lady Sollar. She’s just saying that to scare us.”

“But that’s lying!”

“Yeah, and so what’s wrong if we lie, too?”

Sollar pouted and crossed her arms.

“It’s wrong!”

The Demonfolk General grumbled.

“Yeah, it’s technically wrong,” he muttered. “But a peek wouldn’t hurt.”

Sollar immediately pointed her finger at him, and exclaimed, “No looking!”

General Forge rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. You win.”

The two continued stacking boxes. It felt like a handful of hours of work, as the nearly-filled wagon soon went from half-filled, to a third of it filled with those boxes.

Soon, General Forge paused his work, and glanced at the sky. It was getting close to midday.

“You can keep working, right? I’m gonna try to book us tickets to one of those fast boats out of here, right to the Capital.”

“But we can’t leave,” Sollar said. “The Fraul-ar woman said so.”

“Look, as long as you do the work, it’s fine,” General Forge said. “I’ll get us a boat. We have enough money for tickets.”

He jingled the bag of coins.

“This’ll be enough, even though it’s only half the payment. Got it? You continue, I’ll pick up the other half of the payment. We’ll need money to get back out of the Capital once you meet your brother.”

Sollar nodded. “Yes, this isn’t hard!” she exclaimed. “I can do it!”

General Forge patted her on the back.

“I’m counting on you, Lady Sollar.”

Sollar nodded, which was the cue for General Forge to step away from the wagon unloading process.

The Demonfolk girl then glanced over at all the boxes in the wagon. Most others would’ve been daunted by the task ahead of her, but instead she simply saw this as a task that needed to be done.

Not even a challenge, no. Just a task that the Demonfolk girl was going to complete.

It took Sollar another half-hour of monotonous stacking. Most of the wagon had been emptied, its contents now in the warehouse, placed on atop the other as neat as can be. Sollar wiped some sweat off her brow.

The time was almost noon. The Demonfolk girl could see even more people out, which meant that she was close to her deadline.

“I need to get it done fast!” she exclaimed. She ran up to the wagon and grabbed one of the last few boxes. But, just as the Demonfolk girl turned around to run that box into the warehouse, a familiar armored figure shadowed the end of the alleyway.

It was the Hero.

He had been passing by, but when the Demonfolk girl stopped to look at him, he stopped too.

The Demonfolk girl eyed around the Hero, to see if the friendly ‘Jun-ar’ girl was with him. But she wasn’t.

 The Hero was the first to break the staring contest.

“Second Coming!” he exclaimed. “Surrender immediately!”

Sollar responded to this demand by chucking whatever she had in her hands — one of Fraul’s wooden boxes — and then making a break for it, directly into the warehouse. She flung one of the doors closed behind her as she did so.

The box that Sollar threw crashed against the Hero’s helmet, splitting apart and scattering its contents everywhere.

Neither Ronn nor Sollar paid any heed to the bars of aluminum that clattered to the surrounding ground. Ronn simply unsheathed his broadsword, and took off directly after Sollar.

Ronn went right into the warehouse, his shoulder glancing off the door that Sollar had flung closed. It shattered upon contact with his armor.

Sollar was running, even using all fours to scramble up the stacks of boxes so that Ronn couldn’t get her. He followed her, nonetheless, smashing through even more of the crates and scattering aluminum ingots everywhere.

The Demonfolk girl, on the other hand, had a general idea as to the layout of the warehouse. She had scrambled up some wooden logs in the sawmill earlier, and knew that the tops of the rather short warehouses had windows through them. So, she immediately spotted one that was open and crawled through it.

Dropping out the other side, the Demonfolk girl brushed the dust off her clothes, and sighed.

“I’m safe!” she exclaimed.

Moments later, Ronn smashed through the wall right next to her.

Sollar glanced back in absolute terror, hearing the sounds of shattering wood. Upon witnessing the Hero standing right beside her, his sword glowing at its edge, she Flared right then and there.

“Gaaah!” she shrieked. Sollar’s shoes skidded on the ground as she scrambled onto all fours, to get away from the Hero.