"Damn it."

  I cursed lightly as the words of the Messenger were delivered to our ears. A revelation washed over my frame and cleansed my mind.

  "Ar-Arch-Captain Si-Silvers ha-has arrived."

  Those words were not ideal within the confines of this situation. If memory serves me correctly, and it usually does, Silvers was the name of the small, elven woman from the road, as I imagined her title of "Arch-Captain" meant something around here.

  With the new information that Mordred was the man currently leading Astana from behind the scenes and the arrival of Arch-Captain Silvers, this situation became more complicated. At that moment, it became hotter here. My throat became thick with saliva, and my insides churned as if they were doing some commemorative dance.

  'Shit. Things are bound to become more complicated…'

  The thought of being recognized and reported while still being in enemy territory triggered dread to shake more core like an earthquake. It would not be optimal to stay here for much longer. It is difficult to say that we could even best Mordred or Percival since I could not properly gauge their strength. This meeting was becoming more bothersome at the moment.

  "This Arch-Captain? Is he an important person here?" Q questions promptly.

  Realization reappeared on the face of Mordred once more. The slender frame of the male would turn to face our muscular comrade.

  "Ah. That is right. You probably have not had the pleasure of making her acquaintance yet."

  Pleasure would not be the proper term for our initial meeting. Misfortune would be an appropriate adjective for that disastrous encounter. Not only was I forced into antagonizing her subordinate, but we did technically fully assault them -in self-defense, for the record. Thinking back, I wasn't the one to blame. Her subordinate was the one who was openly opposed to foxkins.

  He was the aggressor, so perhaps I could spin it in our favor. Appealing to Mordred could also be a possibility. The man went out of his way to meet us and feed us essentially classified information. Not to mention, Mordred does not seem to be the type to change his mind on a whim.

  "Arch-Captain Vanya Silvers is one of the most talented women to have ever entered the Astana City Guard. A young prodigy, if you may say so, but she's been an asset for the short time that she's worked alongside us. The first woman to reach the rank of Arch-Captain within the three hundred years of Lady Ana's leadership. She is imposing with her deductions," Mordred continued.

  I can believe that, to be honest. Her name triggered a recollection of Percival's braggadocious ramblings during our trip here. Vanya Silvers appeared to be her name, so I wonder if she has a connection to the estranged commander of the Conscripted Forces, who suffered a defeat at the hands of the Beastmen raid at Theoscyran.

  With a failure still fresh in the minds of others, perhaps she would be hesitant to report that she was then defeated during her time out. As my thoughts began to bleed into one another once more, the sound of Mordred's voice pulled my attention.

  "Go and tell the guards to allow her in," he says.

  Without my notice, the man had moved to aid his previously downed Messenger to her feet. He brushed her off and gestured for Claire to step aside. Honoring the male's request, Claire would move to take her seat at the table once more.

  "Y-Yes, Sir," the Messenger says timidly.

  With a puff of smoke, the woman disappeared as suddenly as she reappeared. No doubt that this would be the opportunity to test my theory. A few minutes had passed before the sound of multiple pairs of footsteps muffled through the grass.

  Although I was confident in my analysis, a bead of sweat still emerged and raced down the side of my face. My lips seemed drier than before, causing me to instinctively trace my tongue across in a vain attempt to moisturize them. Although I could hear their footsteps as they approached, it would be a matter of seconds before I could spot the cause of them.

  It would be difficult to hide my fox-like features, so I quickly decided that it would be a solid idea to move behind Q and Bonner to shield myself from her vision. Considering the fact that she didn't see the two men in our first encounter, I thought that would be our best option. It might've seemed weird, but since I did not know the customs of the region, I decided to bend the knee. I crouched onto my tail and placed my face towards the ground.

  Doing this would hopefully conceal my identity for the time being. I would assume that the other two would understand my movements, as I could feel their slight movements in front of me. I would have to rely on my auditory capabilities this time around, as allowing her to see my face would likely result in a confrontation.

  "Arch-Captains," Mordred says briefly.

  Noticing the lack of footsteps, one could realize that the Arch-Captain must have arrived on the scene. Hopefully, she would assume that I was a regular foxkin servant and not spare me a second look.

  'Hold on a second, Captains? As in multiple Captains?'

  There had been multiple sets of footsteps, approximately two that arrived. That would likely mean that the Arch-Captain at the Astana gate has arrived as well. That prejudiced asshole could cause an issue as well, especially if Silvers ran her story by him as well. Percival, Mordred, Vanya, and the Arch-Captain are four potential threats that we may have to square up with—the front line of guards in the area.

  "Damn it-" I utter to myself.

  My first instinct was to ball my fists just in case I needed to throw hands in our attempt to flee the city. Perhaps this ordeal with Claire was a trap all along. How foolish could I be? A deal such as this seemed too good to be true. Here I was bending the knee, practically offering my neck to these people. I am at a disadvantage.

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  "Master Mordred. Master Percival," an unfamiliar voice says.

  The sound of this individual's voice was light and feminine. Mother-like would be a way to describe the sense of comfort I felt when their mouth opened.

  "These two men are Bonner and Qayshaun. They were men of the Conscripted Forces, but now they work under contract with Miss Clarice," Mordred says.

  "A pleasure," Bonner says, speaking up once mentioned.

  His tone had softened considerably compared to the venom he spat in the address of Mordred and Percival. It was quite an odd scenario.

  "This is Second Arch-Captain Esta Dawn. Beside her is the woman that we spoke of earlier… Fourth Arch-Captain Vanya Silvers."

  "Second and Fourth?" Q questions immediately.

  I would imagine that those in attendance would be pretty suspicious of his question, but it could not be helped. With titles of Second and Fourth Arch-Captain, it indicates that there are more to deal with. Figuring out how many is paramount to figuring out how to progress forward.

  "Forgive our ignorance, but where we are from, such things did not exist. We assume that you two are important figures, but we do not know whether we should bend the knee like our com-"

  "Servant," Bonner says, correcting Q on the spot.

  "These women help keep the peace within Astana. They are worthy of respect. Keep that in mind. Commoners like you should be grateful to be within the presence of multiple Arch-Captains," Percival states.

  "That is not needed here," Mordred interjects.

  "More importantly, I would like to hear your reports."

  "I have come with news on The Disturbance outside the city limits," Arch-Captain Silvers states.

  "Proceed."

  "I have reasonable suspicions to believe that there might be an outside force working in the shadows. There was a beastkin portraying himself as a member of the Conscripted Forces. He claimed to have multiple allies working alongside him. A small section of the forest was destroyed, and he was found hiding nearby. I imagined that it was an ambush, and I was correct. Suddenly, we were attacked, and they were told by one of my men that they were fleeing to Struburg."

  "Struburg?" Percival says. "Tsk-Tsk. You allowed them to escape. Failure isn't becoming someone in your standing. Especially if you are incapable of capturing a single beastkin."

  "You do not understand. Only three of us went ahead, but-"

  "But nothing. You are an Arch-Captain, Vanya. A beastkin is a beastkin. Perhaps-"

  "That is enough, Percival,". Mordred said.

  Just as he spoke, Percival listened. I could hear the subtle scraping of his chair against the stone foundation's material. The man must've stood up at some point in their conversation.

  "I would like to hear more on that matter later today. Bring your men as well," Mordred said.

  "Yes, Sir," the elven woman responds.

  "Ah- I have more productive news. Are you sure that these men and their… servant could be trusted with such sensitive information?" Arch-Captain Dawn questions.

  I don't know how to describe it, but I could feel their eyes bore on me. It was like an interrogation light burning my flesh. I almost felt compelled to speak, but I found the resolve to hold my tongue. It was thanks to Percival that we were spared time. Her report was interfered with and postponed to a later date. It granted us the opportunity to leave enemy territory without a fight, possibly.

  "Yes. I permit it."

  I did not understand why he was going out of his way to allow us to be present for these events, or why he wanted to share all that information with us. Not being able to shake the nagging feeling that I was being watched, I decided to raise my head slightly. Whilst Dawn delivered her report to Mordred, I would attempt to steal a glance at her.

  Though in hindsight, I would say that was a poor idea. Almost instantly, I found myself engaged in a staring contest with Arch-Captain Silvers. I could practically see the neurons firing in her head as she recognized my dumb ass.

  Hell- She must've been looking at me for a moment. Kneeling like that must've piqued her interest. Her eyes widened slightly as I watched her hand move somewhat towards her sword. She was attempting to draw it, no doubt.

  "Your hand. Readjusting your blade, Arch-Captain?" Percival says.

  The words of the cocky elf brought about the steadying of the recipient's hand. Her attention returned to him, interrupting the report of Arch-Captain Dawn. For some odd reason, Percival seemed to be overtly aggressive towards Arch-Captain Silvers. His tone challenged her, but she seemed to stand her ground on this occasion.

  "I was merely correcting the angle of my sword. It was slightly ajar from its sheath," she explained.

  It was a blatant lie from my perspective, but her explanation seemed to have satisfied the male. A breath of relief escaped my lungs before I shifted my face towards the ground. Arch-Captain Dawn completed her report, and with my fixation on Silvers, I missed most of the details. Though from what I did manage to grasp, Dawn was in charge of dealing with a brigade of bandits that were lurking to the south of Astana, and disrupting their city's trade line.

  Many of the merchants were beginning to steer clear of the city due to the ever-increasing danger that was emerging. I found that weird as well, considering that the Golden Market, or as I called it, "Astana's Walmart," seemed to be filled to the brim with both stalls and customers.

  At first glance, Astana appeared to be in a favorable position within this world. Without knowing the finer details of their situation, the city initially seemed as bright and vibrant as its nicknames suggested. After meeting with Claire and then Mordred, and hearing a portion of Dawn's report, I have a different opinion.

  Things aren't as golden as the people in charge would like them to appear. It would be then that my stomach would once more let its status be known. The audible grumble caused my face to flush with embarrassment. Honestly, I was glad that my face was turned towards the ground, so they could not see my face right now.

  "My apologies for our servant's insolence. He meant nothing by it, but we have not had the opportunity to dine on our ratios yet," Bonner says, speaking up on our behalf once more.

  I had no deeper qualms about being referred to as a servant in this scenario. That was the role that I was currently portraying at this moment in time. Still, one would find it annoying to be continuously treated in that manner in the future. I suppose this degrading form of servitude is beneath a man of my pride, but for the circumstance that we were placed within, then I shall bear with it like a man should.

  The condescending laughter of Percival filled my furry ears with the sound of his precocious judgment. I was unsure whether he, too, was prejudiced entirely against the beastkin or if he was just another fool with a superiority complex. He would rise from his seat and, in doing so, grab everyone's attention. Even I looked up to find the radiant smile of the elven male on full display.

  "It is understandable, so there is no need to fret. Commoners require everyday sustenance. Since I am quite the benevolent man. Arch-Captains, Brother, Miss Clarice… Commoners. You are all invited to accompany me tonight at my estate for a banquet."

  That was quite the strange turn. I had not expected to be invited to dine with him—a tantalizing offer to be honest. Since we did not have any money to our names, gaining a free meal from Percival would be optimal, but there is an issue.

  Prolonged exposure to the toxic condescension from Percival would be harmful to his health. Not to mention that the Arch-Captains —more specifically, Silvers — would also be present. It is a high risk for a seemingly medium reward.

  "We accept your offer, Master Percival."

  I was surprised to hear Claire's voice speak up on our behalf.

  "Yeah- I suppose we will accept your offer. We are not the type to reject free high-class food," Q chimed in.

  The hum of agreement from Bonner seconded our friend's words. Considering that it was my stomach that prompted the proposal, I found it challenging to come up with a reason to accept it. I would have to accept and tolerate the foolishness of this male for a moment longer.