“If Talos drinks a healing potion in the next three days, his body will likely reject the regenerated flesh.”

  “I thought Nulls were immune to that.”

  Lillik let out a low, clicking hiss—a sound she had learned was the arachnid analog to a sigh of frustration.

  “Normally, they are. But the Last Gasp forced his physiology to process a spike of magical energy it was never designed to hold. It shut his internal channels almost entirely. Much like when a mage suffers mana burn, the pathways take time to heal. Until they do, any magic introduced to his system is poison.”

  Rinerva paused at the information. She didn't look up from the map immediately. Her gloved hand shifted up, raking through her white hair to push the loose strands out of her eyes—a rare, human gesture of stress breaking through her noble composure.

  “Three days,” she repeated, her voice flat.

  “Yes. Minimum.”

  “And Nomi?”

  “...She is alright.”

  Rinerva’s pale eyes shifted instantly up from the parchment, locking onto the Spider.

  “When she first arrived, she was hyperventilating and shattering expensive alchemy in the street. Now you want me to believe she is ‘alright’?”

  Lillik hesitated. She considered how to explain the shift—the subtle softening of Talos’s posture, the way Nomi had stopped shaking the moment he used the nickname.

  “Something changed between her and Talos,” Lillik stated simply.

  Rinerva went still.

  For months, the friction between her two skirmishers had been a known variable—a liability she had accounted for, and at times, a division she had quietly appreciated. But a united front? That was a new variable.

  She had to see it for herself.

  Rinerva straightened, the frost on her fingertips evaporating into the humid air.

  “Are they well enough to speak?”

  “They are.”

  “Good.” Rinerva rolled up the map with a sharp snap of parchment. “Gather everyone in the meeting hall. We need to restructure the plan.”

  Rinerva watched the Spider vanish into the shadows of the hallway. She took a breath, allowing herself a single moment to format her thoughts and suppress the frustration of the wasted gold, before stepping into the central room of the inn.

  She carried her map under her arm like a baton. Her hair, usually bound in a severe, disciplined bun, hung loose around her shoulders—a rare sign of the stress fraying her edges.

  Agon met her eyes first.

  The giant was seated near the hearth, sharpening his axe. He was fresh, untouched by the combat that had nearly claimed the others. There was no fatigue in his posture, only a low, simmering eagerness. A small grin played at his lips despite the dire straits. His purpose, his pride, was restored once more. He finally had a war to fight.

  Lillik’zeil stood by the window. Physically, she was unscathed, but her awareness was fractured; her spider eyes were scattered around the room, twitching independently, most of them fixed protectively on her little sister. Yet, as Rinerva entered, the Spider seemed to center herself. One by one, the eyes darted back to the commander. The twitching limbs went still. She was ready.

  Then there was Talos.

  He looked like someone had pulled out all his organs, shuffled them, and stuffed them back in upside down. He was covered in a thin, sickly sheen of sweat, his hair a black mop matted to his forehead. He sat heavily, favoring his left side. Yet, his eyes were steady. There was no pain in them, only a grim, flat determination. He was a gladiator before the potions; this wouldn't slow him for long.

  But it was Nomi who surprised her the most.

  The Fox sat next to Talos, one leg crossed over the other. The playful smile was there, painting her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her gaze wasn't defensive, nor was it the panicked, manic look of the girl who had shattered their trump card in the street a handful of hours ago.

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  Her eyes were bright green, calm, and terrifyingly focused.

  Rinerva stopped. She realized, with a jolt of cold clarity, that she wasn't looking at the little parasite who had hurt her best friend. She was looking at the antimage. She was looking at the assassin who had silenced every song in the Rethnian Mage Choir during the war.

  The party hadn’t held this much cohesion in a long time. It was dangerous. It was volatile.

  And it was exactly what she needed.

  “We got lucky.”

  Rinerva’s voice broke the silence, heavy and unadorned. She set the map on the table with a deliberation that drew everyone in, spreading the parchment flat over the rough wood.

  “I expected this to be a standard extermination mission—difficult, but within our parameters. But so far, the city is bleeding us dry for every inch of ground. The fact that we aren’t already dead is a statistical anomaly, not a victory. We cannot afford another mistake.”

  She uncorked a vial of ink, dipping a quill and slashing a thick, black X over the southern half of the map.

  “With the Lower City largely supporting the Matriarch, and with overmutated monsters roaming the streets in daylight, we are cutting our losses. We are abandoning the Lower Sector.”

  “We’re abandoning the commoners?” Agon asked, his voice a low rumble of disapproval.

  “For us to save people, Agon, there have to be people left to save,” Rinerva countered coldly. “Of the two expeditions we’ve launched into the deep slums, we’ve found nothing but thralls, cultists, and graves. It is a resource sink we cannot sustain.”

  “Mm. Cold as ever, Rin,” Nomi hummed.

  She leaned forward, her eyes scanning the ink-stained streets she used to play in. But there was no grief in her expression, and certainly no pity for the faceless masses. There was only the cold, sharp calculation of a bodyguard assessing a threat to her principal.

  “But she’s right,” Nomi continued, shrugging lightly. “Tal and I couldn’t find a single pulse down there that didn’t sound… wrong. If we stay down there, we get surrounded. I’m not interested in dying for a bunch of strangers who are already gone.”

  Talos scowled, looking at the black X. He hated the loss of life, but he touched the fresh bandages on his chest and stayed silent. He knew Nomi was right. They couldn't save everyone.

  “We can help the survivors after we’ve stemmed the corruption at its source,” he rasped finally.

  “Precisely,” Rinerva said, marking a circle around the Upper District.

  “Lillik and Agon spoke with the nobility—the House of the Bat. They claim to be remnants resisting the madness. Yet, they refused to allow our operations within their territory.”

  Rinerva’s quill hovered over the large manor houses. She didn't cross them out, but she circled them in caution-red.

  “That refusal is a variable I do not like. The Coven is organized. If there was a true resistance, the Matriarch would be crushing it. The fact that the House of the Bat remains untouched suggests one of two things: They are too strong to be crushed, or they are compliant.”

  “So we treat them as enemies?” Talos asked, leaning heavily on the table.

  “We treat them as unverified,” Rinerva corrected sharply. “We do not engage them unless forced, but we do not trust them. We assume their territory is hostile until proven otherwise. I will not leave a piece on the board unaccounted for.”

  She looked up, her pale eyes scanning her team, assessing the damage and the remaining potential.

  “Which brings us to the new strategy. We need to find the sleeper cells and eradicate them. We will start by securing the Middle City, which is already ostensibly aligned with us. However, with Talos unable to regenerate, our formation must change. It will be up to Agon to hold the frontline.”

  Agon grinned, nodding. Rinerva acknowledged it though, her gaze was already drifting between Talos and Nomi.

  Tactically, the smart move was to pair the fragile Null with the massive siege-breaker for protection, and put the two sisters together for magical synergy. But she looked at Nomi’s face. The Fox was calm, sharp, and lethal. She hadn't seen Nomi this focused in months.

  If I separate them now, Rinerva calculated, I risk shattering that focus. The Fox fights harder when she’s guarding her territory.

  She hated the dependency. It was a weakness. But right now, she would weaponize it.

  “The teams will stay the same,” she announced. “Lillik and Agon will focus on the Middle City. You will root out the cells with brute force and magical suppression.”

  She turned to the pair on her right.

  “Talos. Nomi. You will conduct an investigation into the Upper City. We need to identify the high-value targets without alerting the Hive.”

  She looked pointedly at Nomi.

  “That means you will need to go back on full suppressants. We need to mask your signature entirely. If the Bats smell a Fox in their roost, the mission is blown before it begins.”

  Nomi didn't flinch. She didn't look at Talos for reassurance or freeze up. Instead, her ears gave a small, genuine flick of annoyance. It wasn't the brittle, manic performance of earlier.

  “Boo,” she deadpanned, leaning back in her chair with a loose, easy grace. “And here I was just starting to enjoy hearing the heartbeats of the rats in the walls again.”

  She accepted the tactical necessity without argument, despite the bite.

  “And the meeting with the Bats?” Agon’s deep voice cut through the room. “You didn’t assign anyone to the diplomatic envoy.”

  “I’ll attend it alone.”

  The room went quiet.

  “That… seems a needless risk, Old Blood,” Agon rumbled, frowning.

  “We need our resources elsewhere. I need Lillik to find the sleeper cells, and I need you to wipe them out. And I certainly cannot risk sending Talos into a noble’s den in his current condition.”

  Rinerva straightened, smoothing the front of her coat. Her eyes fixed on the red circles marking the manor houses, cold and unyielding. She almost hoped they would try to ambush her. She could show them what real nobility looks like.