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The night stretched over the city like an endless cloak, but Luna wasn't tired.
She had taken her first step.
Kiran followed them through the winding streets, his bruises barely slowing him down. He had a sharp energy about him, the kind that spoke of survival. He was no noble warrior—no, he had been raised in the filth and chaos of this city. He had learned to fight because the world forced him to.
And that was exactly the kind of ally she needed.
Ahava walked beside her, silent as ever, though she could feel his disapproval simmering beneath the surface.
"You don't trust him," she said without looking at him.
Ahava exhaled. "Should I?"
Kiran smirked. "I'd say yes, but I feel like that'd be suspicious."
Luna chuckled. "See? He's honest."
Ahava rolled his eyes. "Honest men don't survive here."
Kiran shrugged. "He's not wrong."
They reached the city's outer district, where the buildings turned from grand stone to splintering wood. The slums, where the forgotten and desperate lived. Luna knew this was where Kiran belonged.
"Where are we going?" Kiran finally asked.
Luna stopped in front of a worn-down inn, its sign swaying slightly in the wind. "Here."
Kiran raised a brow. "You do realize this is a den for mercenaries and outlaws, right?"
Luna smirked. "Exactly."
Ahava sighed. "One day, I'll learn not to ask questions."
They stepped inside.
The air was thick with the scent of ale and sweat, and the noise was a dull roar of conversation, clinking mugs, and occasional laughter. The kind of place where men killed for coin and alliances were made in the shadows.
Perfect.
Luna strode to the counter, ignoring the wary glances she received. The bartender barely glanced up. "Rooms are full."
"We're not here for rooms," Luna said smoothly. "We're here for information."
The bartender finally looked up, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of information?"
Luna leaned forward slightly. "I need warriors. The best you have."
Silence fell over the nearby tables. A few men turned to watch.
The bartender snorted. "That depends. What's the job?"
Luna smiled, slow and confident. "Building a kingdom."
A few chuckles rippled through the room. Someone muttered, "Delusional."
But one man at the back of the room, half-hidden in the shadows, sat forward. His presence was different—he didn't look like the rest. His posture was relaxed, yet his eyes were sharp, calculating.
Luna met his gaze, and a quiet understanding passed between them.
He was interested.
The man rose from his seat, stepping closer. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a presence that demanded attention. His dark hair fell past his shoulders, and his skin was marked with faint battle scars.
"You're serious?" His voice was low, steady.
Luna nodded. "I don't waste my breath on things I don't intend to achieve."
He studied her for a moment before smirking. "Then you might have my attention."
Ahava tensed beside her, always on edge, always ready.
Kiran, however, grinned. "Looks like we've got another recruit."
The man chuckled. "Not yet." He crossed his arms. "You want warriors? Prove yourself."
Luna didn't hesitate. "Name your challenge."
The man's smirk deepened. "Simple. A fight. You win, I follow you. You lose… well, you'll have bigger problems than recruitment."
The room buzzed with interest.
Ahava muttered, "I hate this plan."
Luna smirked. "Then you'll hate what happens next."
She turned to the man and said, "Let's begin."
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