Louis woke up under a blanket he put aside. He meditated cross-legged on his bed, then approached the window barred with wooden planks and observed the sun's position. He resumed his energetic exercises, then carefully wrote down the energy intake compared to the time and his mental state in his notebook. He stored the latter in a small locked box, hidden in a false bottom of a drawer filled with various scattered objects.
He smothered the last flames in a dirty fireplace, tossed aside the clogs he had used in that messy room, dressed in finer clothes, took his two purses—placing one in an inner pocket close to his heart—unbolted the heavy locks on his first-floor door, re-secured them on the opposite side of the door, and descended to the ground floor.
There, everything had its place. A comfortable armchair warmly welcomed guests, next to a fireplace whose suspicious cleanliness suggested rare use, and only for special occasions. A long wooden table, once lively with activity, stood nearby. He lifted the heavy bar from the door, set it down nearby, and stepped outside.
He passed the woodpile, the pantry, the underground grain silos, and arrived at a wooden house where his slaves lived. These would ordinarily be considered part of his family, much like a father held power of life and death over his children, but nothing was ordinary near the demonic frontiers. Even his subjects were only obligated to one day of service, and some paid extra to be exempted. It was easier to negotiate better rights when one participated in the raids.
He noticed a figure and stepped closer to see better.
"Master?" a heavily accented voice called out.
"Ah, it's you, Nusa. Good morning!" he replied in the slave's language. Then, switching to his native tongue: "I'd like you to clean my ground floor thoroughly today, if you can find the time. I'm expecting some guests. It's not urgent—it's for tonight."
"Of course! I'll finish Manon's task and get right on it." She hesitated a moment, seeming to gather courage, then asked, "Master, I was wondering…"
"Ask freely," Louis said with a smile.
"My husband was wondering if you would allow him to earn wages in the demonic territories, to buy his freedom faster."
Louis looked somewhat surprised, and the slave quickly added:
"It's not to escape. He would never do that."
"I never doubted it for a second… Hmmm… I'll need to think about it. Tell you what, once my guests have left, come see me so we can discuss it properly—and you can continue teaching me your language."
Louis greeted her with the same grace he used for everyone, only slightly less than for Knights or his superiors, and headed off at a gallop toward Cleppé. He entered the city and approached a large building guarded by two servants.
"Monsieur Louis! Welcome, welcome! Monsieur Orsart is eagerly awaiting you."
Louis passed through the corridor and joined him in a small, warmly heated room, accompanied by a buffet of food and a few tasteful books. They chatted joyfully about various topics. Soon, other influential men joined them, and at one point, someone spoke:
"Have you heard? The missi dominici will be arriving soon," said Oscart.
Louis froze.
"Yes," another replied. "Apparently, they'll be traveling across the entire country! Must be linked to the explosion!"
"No, they had planned the visit long before that. I've got a friend in Moir who told me they aren't just observing this time. Several times, they visited Paladin homes, and if the Paladins were dead, they more or less seized their lands."
"Good for them!" Tirza added. "They'd be dead in two days otherwise. Moir…" He shook his head at the thought. "It takes overwhelming power to survive in the upper levels there. I've never seen such a gathering—so many powerful and weak all in one place! If they ended up relegated to the lower levels, where crime runs rampant, an enemy would've surely killed them with some other blade."
"That still doesn't explain why they're seizing lands," said Louis.
"Bah! Do they need a reason? Never fighting, living off the peace provided by Paladins and Angels—they're becoming submissive! Just look at their lower classes and you'll know all about the cowardice of their leaders." Tirza waved his cane as he spoke.
Seeing an opportunity to speak privately, Louis asked Tirza:
"Say, do you happen to know a good, discreet exorcist?"
"Did you have a demonic creature problem?"
"Well, recently, we were visited by a demoness… I want to make sure everything is fine and that she didn't implant a demonic creature, even at the cost of her life."
"Uhh… you're putting me in a tough spot. The one I use is good, but I'm not sure he'd be a fit. However, I know someone—she's used to going beyond the frontier. She knows demonic creatures like the back of her hand and is pretty decent at exorcising hauntings. Not very friendly, but she can keep a secret—and besides, almost no one takes her seriously."
"Perfect. Can you arrange a meeting for me?"
"Is it urgent?"
"Fairly urgent," Louis nodded.
"I'll let you know as soon as possible."