Angie often complained about Sundays. According to her, it was the most bittersweet day of the week; you already had a day off on Saturday, so you felt refreshed, but at the same time Monday was already looming over the horizon like a sword of Damocles, always weighing on your mind. It sounded altogether overdramatic to me, but to be fair, I was always busy, regardless of which day of the week it was, so I found it hard to empathize with her plight. Was I losing out on some intrinsic part of the student experience, I wondered?

It didn't really matter, but just the fact that such thoughts were swirling around in my head told me that I was really ought to take a break. Not that I had much time for that, as it was already morning, but I figured catching my breath before heading out with Sir Percival wouldn't hurt. As such, I left Fred's workshop and headed into the lounge area of the main hall.

"[I wish thou a good morning, Blackloak,]" Brang greeted me from the other side of the bar. "[Thine presence is unexpected. What brings thou here at such a twilight hour?]"

"[Your question deserves the treatment of a mirror, general,]" I answered in Faunish as I sat down. "[The break of dawn is scarcely upon us, yet my eyes behold your fingers already hard at their delicate labor.]"

"[Aye. The turn of duty to take care of the wares of glass had befallen upon me, and there is no better time to start than the moment,]" he told me while his hands absently wiped yet another cocktail glass. I had no idea why, but the Fauns completely monopolized the bar and jealously guarded the post of the bartender. It was yet another quirk I couldn't quite understand, but if they liked it, I wasn't going to complain. More importantly, once Brang finished cleaning another glass and put both it and his fluffy washcloth away, he gave me his full attention. "[Thou have yet to answer the first question of mine. Is it due to a deed of secrecy?]"

"[Fret not, general. I had spent the nocturnal hours by applying torsion upon the mystic energies of creation to form an article of profound importance, and my work drew to a close only just.]"

For emphasis, I patted the buckle on my belt, though he probably didn't get it, as I had yet to show off the capabilities of my personal Magiformer… Though, on second thought, calling it that was a misnomer, considering how I pretty much twisted the original enchantment into a pretzel to squeeze all the necessary functions into it. Would calling it Leoformer be too on the nose, I wondered?

I'll ask the girls to help me workshop a new name later, I surmised, and focused on the more important detail. Namely that it was not only fully functional, including all the utilities I put into the Knights' Uniformers, but I also managed to squeeze in a bunch of extra defensive wards, a system for tuning the enchantments on the individual pieces of equipment without the need to use my phantom limbs, and I even managed to increase the capacity of the storage enchantment I nabbed from Raven Boy. The result was an insanely complex enchantment array that put it on the level of the bubble that used to house Ichiko's soul and the tremendous construct that gave sentience to Cal.

Oh, but speaking of them…

"[My mind just recalled a task most important I must accomplish before embarking on my journey to negotiate with coat-turning men of traitorous disposition and forked tongues… and some leeches upon the lines of power, I suppose.]"

"[Sounds like an ordeal,]" Brang noted, his ears twitching in apprehension. "[Dost thou care for a drink before thine departure?]"

"[Nay, yet my appreciation is palpable. On a melody of equal nature, I beseech you to nudge my memory upon my return, for I wish to once again borrow your eyes and mind for a sacred Rite of Dominance.]"

"[Aye, Blackloak. I wish for thine safe and swift return.]"

Nodding in appreciation, I got up and headed to the armory area. Since I still didn't trust Percival half as far as I could throw him, I couldn't leave Cal within his arm's reach, so I decided to keep the sword here at the base for the time being. Not for much longer though, as after I upgraded the storage enchantment, I could finally fit it in there. On a side note, for some inexplicably hard-coded reason, the more complex and powerful the enchantment was on an artifact, the more 'space' it took up in Raven Boy's storage, and that attribute carried over to my copy. Ascalon could barely fit in the original, and even the improved version could only hold a few extra swords and tools after the chatty sword was placed inside it.

While I was lamenting over my inability to make one of those super-convenient infinite RPG inventories into a reality, I reached the armory and found Cal on the usual pedestal.

"{Oh. Welcome, young knight. What time is—?}" Their words cut off, and through our connection, a vaguely defined sense of apprehension washed over me. "{Wait! Are you planning to put me—!?}"

I wasn't in the mood to get bogged down in an argument, so after a reassuring pat on the crossguard, I put the sword into storage without a word. Cal didn't like it, because as long as they were in the storage enchantment, they were in a stasis that reminded them of being in the stone pedestal. It wasn't a coincidence, but a conscious design decision, as putting the sword's enchantment on 'standby mode' lowered the space it occupied. It also left Cal disoriented and quite irate upon retrieval, but I decided it was better to apologize after the fact than to spend half an hour arguing with them about it all over again.

But speaking of the time, I checked my phone, and it was a little past eight in the morning. I still needed to clean up before the agreed-upon time, so I Phased back to my room. One shower and a change of clothes later, I walked down the stairs in casual jeans plus a dark blue shirt-and-jumper combo, and as per the annoying old man's request, I put on one of my very few non-black outerwear, a plain grey parka. Of course, I didn't forget to wear my new Leoformer (name still pending), and by the time I got to the living room, Sir Percival was already waiting for me.

"I'm glad to see your amnesia didn't affect your punctuality," he noted and pointedly glanced at the clock on the wall. "Exactly on the minute. Impressive."

"Where are the girls?" I asked for the sake of appearances, even though I already knew they were on a shopping trip for today's dinner. Apparently, Penny took my teasing about her lack of culinary skills all too seriously, and now Snowy was teaching her how to cook.

All of that was beside the point though, as the old man turned a flat look to me and plainly said, "It doesn't really matter. Focus on the objective."

"Sure. What's the plan?" I followed him up while trying my best not to grind my teeth. I really wished that Cal could use the calming meditation circulation thing from storage, but at the moment it was impossible, forcing me to keep my temper in check by the power of dogged indignation.

"We head out on foot, and then take public transport to the North Corner," he told me as he handed me a medical face mask. I didn't take it right away, because I was still trying to remember which part of the city was the 'North Corner'. Was it the old industrial zone, I pondered? Meanwhile, Percival shook the mask in his hand. "Wear this. It's nothing special, but should help hide our identities in the crowd."

I expected something more high-magitech than this, but even after checking the mask with my phantom limb, it turned out to be a completely mundane item. My surprise might've shown on my face, as Percival let out an annoyingly amused chuckle and tapped on the mask already on his face.

"It's just like the first time all over again. You're wondering why we aren't using any recognition-inhibition artifacts, aren't you?" Before I could react, he let out another laugh and grimly stated, "People deep in the world of mystics tend to develop a kind of tunnel vision. It's why the Magi are still using magical eye spells for surveillance when we live in a day and age where anyone can order a full box of button-sized spy cameras from Congo for chump change. The best way to deceive people like that is by not relying on mystic arts at all. Trust me; by the time any would-be stalkers will realize they have no mana trail to follow, we're going to be out of their sights already. It's stupid, but it works because our opponents are also stupid."

"I'm not going to argue too much with that, but it's not a good idea to underestimate whatever opposition you expect," I told him a touch dourly as I put the mask on and pinched the part at the top to conform to the shape of my nose.

"And that's why we aren't going directly to our destination," he said and gestured for me to follow after him as he headed towards the front door. "We'll take the twenty-two line to the outskirts of the city, then the six line to the city center, and finally the thirty-nine line to the North Corner before covering the rest of the distance on foot."

I didn't know how to feel about the fact that he was more familiar with the local coach lines than I was, even though he'd only been living here for less than a week, but I put such concerns aside and followed his lead for the moment. Going through all of this trouble just to get to a clandestine meeting, while minimizing the chances of being discovered, made me acutely aware of just how absurdly cheaty my Far Sight and Phasing abilities were all over again. But then again, everything was a learning experience, so I figured I might as well pay attention to how the 'professionals' were doing things, if for nothing else than future reference.

As for the actual journey, it was exactly as how Percival described it. We got on the first coach, got off just before the last stop, then less than five minutes later we were already sitting on the second coach. Rinse and repeat for the third one, and at last, we got off at a mostly deserted area, surrounded by open fields and a few large factory buildings. Yep, it really was the industrial area.

"We're in time," the old man muttered as he checked his phone. "My contacts should already be waiting for us."

"Where?" I asked by reflex, and he casually pointed at one of the corrugated metal factory buildings about three hundred meters from the coach stop.

"There's a warehouse at the back of that compound. The plant should be empty today, so we should have no trouble getting inside. Trust me."

"If you say so."

My lukewarm answer made the old bastard look at me sideways, but when I didn't say anything else, he waved at me to follow after him. In the end, we sneaked into the property through a gate on the chain link fence surrounding the premises, left conspicuously open. Finding the warehouse in question was equally trivial, and after just a few minutes, we were standing at the door leading to our destination.

Without waiting for me to peek inside with Far Sight, Percival opened it up, revealing a remarkably empty open space. There were a couple of those large, ready-to-assemble metal shelves on the side, holding cardboard boxes of various sizes, plus a couple of wooden pallets scattered around on the floor. Strangely enough, that was all I could make out, as the place had no visible windows, and the lights were turned off, save for a single spotlight shining onto a desk in the middle, with a lone bald man in a suit sitting by it, facing us at the doorway.

So… um… What? Seriously, what the heck was I looking at? This obviously wasn't natural. Someone had to put that desk there on purpose, and last I checked, industrial warehouses didn't have tight-beam spotlights either, meaning it had to be installed just for the sake of this. Were they trying to make a striking first impression? Because they did. This was strikingly stupid, that's for sure.

Not to mention, where are the others? Were they hiding in the dark? Once my eyes adapted to the dimness, I could make out a few catwalks overhead, so maybe they were up there? Maybe this was supposed to be one of those scenes where a shadowy cabal of faceless people was overlooking the negotiations from above without being directly involved. Usually, that was done with implausibly huge, wall-covering video screens, but I imagined they didn't have the time (or budget) to install those.

"Are you Leonard Dunning?" the lean, bald man sitting behind the well-lit table called out to me, and for a moment I wondered how I should react.

"Don't just stand there like a dumb baby deer. Go inside," Percival hissed at me, and while my first reaction was to backhand him by reflex, I suppressed it and pulled the face mask off to reveal my face.

"They look really annoying."

"They are, but they mean you no harm and are here to negotiate, so get your ass moving already. Trust me."

That last part was patently impossible, but I nodded all the same and walked into the spacious room. When I did, I could hear some shuffling sounds from above me, which told me that my hunch might've been dangerously close to the truth. It filled me with oceans of trepidation, but my danger sense didn't give me any signals, so I tried my best to ignore the noises and headed over to the desk.

"I'm here," I introduced myself as tersely as possible, and I could once again hear some shuffling above. The fairly nondescript middle-aged man in front of me also straightened himself in his seat and audibly gulped. He seemed nervous, which meant that he was either under some kind of misunderstanding due to my wildfire of a reputation, or he was just a proxy who really didn't want to be here.

In either case, he cleared his throat and spoke in a level, subdued voice.

"We're infinitely grateful that you graced us with your presence. If you let me, I would like to convey our gratitude by—"

"Can we cut to the chase? We're here to negotiate, aren't we?"

"Y-Yes, in a sense of the word, we certainly are," the bald man answered with a wooden smile, and I couldn't help but notice one of those convenient, highly-visible beads of sweat rolling down from the top of his head all the way to his chin.

"In that case, I'm going to let you two get started right… away?"

I glanced over to my shoulder and planned to point at Percival, only to freeze when I noticed that he was still on the other side of the door. When our eyes met, he flashed me a genial grin, gave me a thumbs up, and then unceremoniously closed the door.

"Bloody what?" I muttered under my breath, and the sitting man raised his palms into the air at once.

"Please, do not be alarmed. We only wish to… erm… parley."

Was that supposed to make me feel less apprehensive? This nervous wreck, sweating like bullets, couldn't calm his way out of a paper bag! Who the hell put him in charge of negotiations? Not that it mattered, as this development told me Percival set me up for something, and I wasn't going to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"Sorry, but no. There's something afoot here, and I'm leaving," I told them with all the solemnity I could muster, but instead of arguing with me, the man only let his hands down.

"You can't."

It was a simple statement, yet it carried conviction, and before I could ask just how he was planning to make me stay, all the lights were turned on at once, momentarily blinding me. Despite the pain stabbing at my retinas, I kept my eyes open, only to then immediately blink in surprise.

There really were catwalks hanging overhead, but instead of a shady cabal of mages, my eyes were greeted by the sight of about a dozen bronze-armor-clad men and women aiming their fancy magical compound bows right at me, arrows of light nocked and ready to fly at a moment's notice.

Then, as if this wasn't alarming enough, the man behind the desk flashed with colorless light, and his clothes were replaced with a white toga, followed by two pairs of ethereal wings unfurling behind him. The people overhead also followed his example, and in a second, the already bright room was filled with the light of about a dozen pairs of shiny wings.

And then, just as the scene reached its zenith, the man in the middle twisted his lips into a disarming smile and pleaded, "Please. We just want to help you."

I gave him a flat look in return, then glanced up at the archers, and finally buried my face in my palm with a lung-rattling groan.

"You bloody. overdramatic. bastards."

If only I knew that this was but the tip of the iceberg, I would've probably Phased away on the spot, but as always, hindsight was my mortal nemesis…