The opulence of the Whuxg Guild stood in stark contrast to the world outside its doors. Every inch of the lobby gleamed with wealth, from the gold-trimmed chandeliers to the velvet-lined chairs. But despite the grandeur, Kitana felt the weight of wary stares pressing upon her. The staff regarded her with barely concealed disgust, their gazes lingering on the twisted remnants of her half-demon transformation.
The man at the front desk, dressed in a deep blue coat, curled his lip as his eyes flickered over them. "We don't offer charity here," he said, his voice laced with disdain. "Perhaps you'd be better suited to the public records in the lower district."
Kitana clenched her jaw, already bracing to respond, but before she could, Lucian stepped forward. With a smirk, he reached into his coat and withdrew a gleaming golden badge, setting it onto the desk with an audible clink.
The shift was immediate. The receptionist's expression froze, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. He cleared his throat, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. "My apologies, sir. I was not aware of your esteemed status. Please, right this way."
Kitana raised an eyebrow at Lucian, but he merely winked. Moira, standing close by, tilted her head in his direction. "How does a commoner like you have a esteemed status?"
Lucian chuckled, pocketing the badge once more. "Everyone has secrets."
Moira frowned. "You're avoiding the question."
Lucian's smirk deepened. "And you're assuming I'm a commoner."
Moira tilted her head. "Am I wrong?"
For once, Lucian didn't have a response so he simply smiled.
With that, the receptionist led them past the lavish lobby and up a spiral staircase to the third floor—reserved for high-priority requests. The air here was quieter, heavier. At the far end of the hall, they were guided into a private chamber where an informant awaited them. He was a lean man with sharp eyes, dressed in dark robes that blended into the dimly lit room.
"State your business," he said, barely looking up from the parchment before him.
Kitana stepped forward. "We need information on the demon who destroyed Alryne."
The informant's quill stilled. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Merikh," he said after a pause. "A Duke among demons. One of the highest-ranking in existence."
Kitanas hands curled into fists at her sides , but she was not alone she could feel the tension the room, so she kept her focus on the informant. "We need to know how to kill him."
A dry chuckle escaped the informant's lips, low and dismissive. "Kill him?" He leaned back, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Do you have any idea what you're asking? Even if you had an entire army, it wouldn't be enough."
Kitana's eyes darkened. Slamming her fist on the desk, she made Moira flinch from the sharp noise. "We didn't come here for doubt. We came for answers."
The amusement faded slightly as the informant's gaze lingered on her, his eyes scanning the twisted remnants of her demonic features. "You speak a lot for a half-breed."
Kitana's throat tightened, her anger rising, but she couldn't find the words to respond.
"Half—half-breed?" Moira's voice rang out, sharp and filled with disgust. "How dare you speak to her like that?"
Lucian, who had been silent until then, smiled. It was a strange, sly smile. Why did he smile? No one could say, but that was enough for he seemed to consider his words carefully before finally responding.
"If you truly wish to face him, you'll need more than just information. You'll need power beyond what any human—or half-demon—could ever hope to wield."
Moira shifted slightly, her sightless eyes seemingly piercing right through him. "Then tell us where to start."
The informant leaned forward, folding his hands over the parchment as candlelight flickered across his gaunt features.
"He is a powerful Duke," he repeated. "And just like any human Duke, he is nothing without his vessels. They are his life force —four high-ranking demons bound to him through dark pacts. As long as they live, he cannot truly die."
Moira's lips parted slightly, her brows furrowing. "So, we kill the vessels…"
"And you weaken the duke," the informant finished. "Eventually, he will be exposed. Mortal. Just enough for you to… try." His gaze slid to Kitana, skeptical but intrigued. "And maybe, if the gods are bored, they'll let you succeed."
Kitana's voice was low, steady. "Where do we find the first one?"
The informant dipped his quill into ink, then unfurled a scroll. He drew quickly—jagged lines and notations forming a rough map. With a deliberate motion, he pointed to a mountainous region near the northern coast. "This one call himself Arvial. A beast of fire and fury. You'll find him in the ruins of Fellspar, where the earth never stops burning."
Lucian raised a brow. "Sounds cozy."
"You'll need more than sarcasm to survive him." The informant rolled up the scroll and handed it to Kitana. Their fingers brushed for the briefest moment, and he blinked. "You've touched death before… haven't you?"
Kitana said nothing, only took the scroll and stepped back.
The informant stood, his robes whispering over the floor as he moved toward the door. "You now know what you sought. Use it or die with it."
But as he opened the door, Moira's soft voice cut through the quiet.
"How do you know so much?" Her face remained hidden beneath her silvery bangs, but her sightless eyes seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight. "About the vessels, the duke… all of it. What is the Whuxg Guild really?"
The informant paused, one hand on the brass handle. A slow smile curved his lips, and he looked over his shoulder like he was looking at someone.
"Because we're the best," he said simply. Then the door clicked shut behind them.
—
The streets outside were quieter now, cloaked in the hues of early evening. Golden light spilled across cobblestones as the group made their way down narrow alleys and into the livelier part of the city, where an inns crooked sign swung in the breeze: The Lantern Maw.
Inside, the warmth of fire and conversation greeted them—along with suspicion.
Kitana kept her hood low, the flicker of firelight casting shadows over her scarred face. Moira walked close, her hair veiling her eyes who were hiding behind cloth wrapped around them. The innkeeper, a stocky man with a bulbous nose and beady eyes, looked them over with disdain.
"You'll need to show your faces," his voice firm. "No masks, no hoods, no secrets here."
"We're just passing through," Kitana said coolly, but the man narrowed his eyes.
"Not good enough. Don't like strangers with something to hide."
Moira lowered her head further, her hands tightening around the edge of her cloak.
Before Kitana could argue, Lucian stepped in with a lazy smile, slinging an arm around Kitana's waist with infuriating ease.
"It's alright, love," he said, voice smooth. "No need to get riled. This here's my wife, and that—" he gestured toward Moira with a roguish grin, "is my dear sister. Bit shy, that one. Bad burn on her eyes. Best not to force her."
Kitana stiffened under his touch, her body burning with both discomfort and confusion. She shot him a glare, but Lucian merely winked and whispered low enough for only her to hear, "Play along."
The innkeeper hesitated, his suspicion fighting with Lucian's confident charm. Finally, he gave a grunt. "Two rooms left. Two beds. You'll take it or sleep in the stables."
Lucian clapped his hands together. "Perfect. Thanks, friend."