"What's taking him so damn long?" Fallon muttered through clenched teeth.
She was currently sitting in the village chief's house. His servant had informed her that the old man had "business" to attend to and had left at the crack of dawn. Which left her with nothing better to do than wait - while that same servant wandered off to fetch him.
Business, my ass! I knew damn well he was probably sprawled in some tavern, drunk out of his wits.
Truth be told, there was no real urgency. Fallon had long since woven her shadows through every corner of this miserable village; she knew precisely what everyone was up to.
Visiting old Terwan in person was merely a courtesy - well, and a warning. She was certain he knew about those eight Hellborn demons; no one could enter or leave a village without the chief's blessing. Yet the old drunk had failed to report a single word.
She recalled that, ages ago, it had been her great-uncle - Biwagron himself - who'd recommended Terwan for this post. Even though there had been far worthier candidates, her uncle had seen "potential" in Terwan - potential to be a useful tool. He'd even told her that managing Terwan would be one of her "training exercises" in controlling subordinates.
And yet here she was, growing more irritated by the second. Five minutes had passed, and that worthless servant still hadn't returned. It wasn't that Fallon was impatient by nature - she simply couldn't stand watching him dawdle on purpose. She could see it clearly: he was deliberately dragging his feet, just to test her temper.
Two minutes later, the man finally stopped - at a tavern, of course. Fallon clicked her tongue. She had already seen where this was going. Terwan was right there, surrounded by his usual crowd of drinking companions and painted women. The servant slipped inside, whispered a few words in the old man's ear, and got waved away like an annoying fly.
Oh, ignoring me now, are we?
Fallon melted into her own shadow, reappearing within moments at the tavern. She did not come empty-handed - beneath her was the same fur-lined chair she'd been sitting on in Terwan's house. It was far too comfortable to leave behind.
The entire tavern fell silent the instant she materialized. All eyes turned to her at once.
Do I look that stunning, or are they all just terrified?
One glance down made her snort. Of course - they were staring at the chair. She'd brought it here on purpose. Terwan nearly choked on his drink when he saw her.
"Good day, Terwan. Long time no see. How's your liver holding up?" Fallon waved lazily at him.
"Lady Lacey - you're here - and that…?" He pointed weakly at the chair beneath her.
"Oh, this? I accidentally brought it along. Anyway, I came to discuss something with you. Let's talk at your place, shall we?"
Before he could stammer a reply, Fallon dragged Terwan down into the darkness with her, reappearing back inside his house as if they'd never left. The old man stared around his own room as if seeing it for the first time. Fallon crossed her legs, lounging back into her plush seat.
"Please, don't just stand there. Find yourself a decent chair. It is your house, after all."
Terwan scrambled to the only chair left, directly opposite her, backlit by a shaft of sunlight that caught every wrinkle and drop of sweat on his fearful face. He knew well enough that whenever she visited, it never ended pleasantly for him.
"I'll get straight to the point," Fallon said coldly, waving away the servant who tried to offer her a glass of wine. "Tell me everything you know about the eight Hellborn demons who left your village about a year ago."
"Ah… who exactly do you mean, my lady? So many people come and go - I can't recall every face…" he stammered.
"I was under the impression you'd read the notice I sent you," Fallon's brow arched dangerously. "It described each of them in detail."
"Ah - yes! Yes, I did read it. I've ordered a full search of the surrounding area. But it may take some time, you see-"
"I understand. I can wait."
"Of course, I shall do my utmost, my lady!"
Terwan darted a nervous glance at his servant, nodding towards the door. She caught his signal at once and slipped out. Fallon's lips curled into a thin smile. She knew damn well he hadn't read a single line of that report. Or if he had, he'd skimmed it and forgotten half of it already. All he knew was that they'd been draped head to toe in black cloaks.
Same old habits.
Fallon sighed. By the time he found any real information, she'd be back home and halfway through another mission. She leaned back, ready to relax, when she noticed Terwan trying to sneak a sip of his wine. Before he could taste it, a shadow tendril snaked out and forced his hand to set the glass back down.
"Now, now. Don't get comfortable just yet. I have more questions for you."
"A-ah - yes, of course, my lady! I'm listening!" He flinched, eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
"Do you know anything about a sinner boy named Louise?"
"Louise? Well… there are quite a few people named Louise around here…" He scratched his neck, feigning confusion.
"But only one Louise who befriended a little imp named Jarrak."
"Jarrak - ah! That snot-nosed brat!" Terwan suddenly roared, slamming a fist on the armrest.
Fallon flinched, caught off guard by the old man's outburst. She leaned in, intrigued.
"Oh? And what did that boy do to make you so furious?"
"It's a disgrace, Miss! And not just once, mind you - many times!"
"You don't say? He seemed like such a kind child. Hard to imagine him causing trouble."
"Kind? Ha! You don't know the half of it! That little devil used to wreck my property, steal my clothes."
Your property, huh. Or more like the villagers' property you extorted.
Most of Terwan's wealth came from bleeding his people dry -until Fallon put a stop to it. Whether he'd returned any of it... well, this lavish house spoke for itself.
"And you did nothing about it?"
"Of course I did! I stripped him of every right he had in this land. And those bleeding-heart converts couldn't lift a finger to help him!"
"Not even when he begged you to help his friend?" Fallon's voice dripped with menace.
"Yes! Absolutely - I mean-" He froze mid-sentence, eyes wide, meeting Fallon's frigid gaze. He knew he'd crossed a line.
"N-not what you're thinking! I swear-"
"Oh? So you can read my mind now, Terwan?" she mocked, her tone turning icy.
"Lady Lacey, please! It wasn't my fault-"
"So it'll take more than this to make me blame you, huh? Listen well: We don't care if they're sinners or Hellborn. If someone comes for help, you help them. That's an unspoken rule - and did you follow it?"
"I know, I know it was wrong! But... I told the boy clearly - his friend was still in the village. He just wouldn't listen!"
"Wait. So you're saying Louise never left this village at all?"
"Exactly! He's never stepped foot outside this territory. You can ask the centaurs at the border if you want proof."
Terwan's expression was too desperate to be lying - Fallon could tell. But it made no sense. There was no way Jarrak wouldn't have found Louise if he'd never left. Unless... the boy had been hiding on purpose.
And didn't he say Terwan kicked him down too?
Fallon chuckled softly to herself.
Just then, the servant returned, claiming they hadn't found the eight Hellborn anywhere.
"How unfortunate that we couldn't locate the ones you're looking for, Lady Lacey," Terwan said, sounding far too calm now.
"Yes, quite unfortunate indeed. And who told you that, exactly?"
"Uh... well..." The servant faltered immediately. Terwan looked equally stiff.
Fallon sighed. She almost admired how clumsy they were at lying. She'd watched the servant visit a certain rundown house with no resistance - eight figures inside, motionless, silent. Only when she arrived did one of them even bother to greet her, then they'd stayed mute again.
"Never mind. I'm done here." Their faces lit up with fragile relief. "And so are you."
She dragged Terwan through her shadow again - straight into that same decrepit house. He yelped, stunned by the mess inside, then froze when he spotted the eight cloaked figures staring at them.
The moment they moved to attack, Fallon's shadows surged, trapping them instantly.
Except... there was nothing inside. No pulse. No presence. No magic signature of teleportation either.
Shit. Clones!
Fury boiled up in her chest. She coiled her shadow around Terwan's throat, squeezing until his eyes bulged with terror.
"You bastard, Terwan! You dare trick me?!" Her voice was low, each word venom.
"L-Lady... Lacey, I don't understand-!" He croaked, fighting for breath.
"They're not real! And you knew?"
"No! I swear - I didn't-!" He shook his head frantically.
"Yet you sheltered them. Do you want to be dragged before the Supreme Governing Council?" Her tone turned eerily calm - always a bad sign for him.
Terwan looked like a demon staring death in the face. But Fallon didn't care. All she wanted now was to get home and finally sleep off this rotten day.