There were more of such rumors:
Disappearances near the old aqueducts. rchants nervous about shipping routes. Guards taking bribes to look the other way.
He moved to the rchant quarter next. The trading houses stayed open late, and their back rooms held discussions that never made it to official records. Damien observed from the shadows, watching money change hands, listening to hushed negotiations.
A weapons rchant selling to unknown buyers. A grain trader routing shipnts through suspicious interdiaries. A banker moving gold to accounts that technically didn’t exist.
All of it might be normal corruption. Or it might be demon collaboration disguised as ordinary cri.
In the noble quarter, he scaled buildings with shadow-assisted climbing, peering through windows at private etings. Nobles discussing politics, making alliances, trading favors. Most of it was standard imperial maneuvering.
But so conversations stood out.
References to "eastern friends" that didn’t match any known eastern nobility. ntions of "alternative arrangents" that sounded more like code than legitimate business. Careful discussions about "when the ti cos" without specifying when or for what.
Damien cataloged it all. Nas, locations, suspicious patterns. Building a map of potential corruption in his mind.
The Church district was hardest to infiltrate – divine wards that reacted to shadow magic made stealth difficult.
But Damien persisted, using his growing shadow comprehension to find gaps in the protections.
He observed Church officials eting with people who definitely weren’t clergy, exchanging items wrapped in cloth that might have been religious artifacts or worse.
By midnight, he’d covered most of the major districts. His ntal map was growing clearer – not enough to identify specific conspirators yet, but enough to see patterns.
Money flows that didn’t make sense. Communication networks that operated outside normal channels. People who appeared in multiple suspicious contexts.
The infiltration was deep, just like the Archdemon had said. Not everywhere, but enough places to make it difficult to know who to trust.
He was about to head back to the residence when he noticed sothing odd.
A figure in a distant alley, watching him. Or not watching him specifically – watching the shadows where he’d been concealed monts before.
Soone who could track his movents despite his stealth.
Damien lted deeper into the darkness, circling around to get a better view of his observer.
The figure was tall, cloaked, face hidden. But the way they moved suggested training – military or assassin, definitely combat-capable. They were examining the alley where Damien had paused earlier, as if reading traces he’d left behind.
Tracking him. Hunting him.
Damien considered confronting them directly. Decided against it – better to learn who was tracking him and why before forcing a confrontation.
He withdrew carefully, using every bit of shadow comprehension to mask his retreat. The figure didn’t follow, but Damien could feel their attention – soone was aware of him, aware that he was moving through the city gathering information.
That complicated things.
He made his way back to the residence through a deliberately convoluted route, ensuring no one could follow him directly ho. Slipped in through a window rather than the front door, avoiding servants and guards alike.
Seria and Elara were both awake, sitting in the main room with concerned expressions.
"Where were you?" Seria demanded. "You’ve been gone for hours. We got worried."
"Gathering information," Damien said, removing the mask and dark clothing. "The official channels aren’t going to give us what we need. Too much suspicion, too much corruption, too much political maneuvering."
"So you went investigating alone," Elara said. Her voice carried disappointnt. "We just talked about coordinating – "
"I know. You’re right. I should have told you." Damien sat down heavily. "But after that eting with the General, after being accused and threatened by Imperial Guard mages, I needed to find the source of their desperation for a target."
"What eting?" Seria’s voice sharpened. "What happened?"
He told them about the conference room interrogation, the accusations of demonic corruption, Lieutenant Kross’s threat. Both won’s expressions darkened progressively.
"They threatened us?" Elara’s voice was cold. "To intimidate you?"
"Yes. Though I made it clear that wouldn’t work." Damien smiled without humor. "I may have implied that if I were actually a demon, I’d have killed them. Probably didn’t help with the trust issues."
"Probably not," Seria agreed. "But satisfying, I imagine."
"Very."
He shared what he’d learned during his nocturnal investigation – the suspicious etings, the money flows, the patterns suggesting deep infiltration. Both won listened intently, Seria making ntal notes of locations and nas.
"This is good intelligence," she said when he finished. "But it’s also dangerous. If you were noticed – "
"I was," Damien admitted. "Soone tracked . Didn’t confront , but they knew I was there. Skilled tracker, possibly military or assassin training."
"So now soone knows you’re investigating outside official channels," Elara concluded. "That’s going to have consequences."
"Probably. But we needed the information." Damien looked at them seriously. "The official investigation is compromised. Either by actual demon infiltration or by so much paranoia that people like those Imperial Guard mages are more worried about than the actual enemy. We need to work outside the system."
"Agreed," Seria said.
They sat in comfortable silence for a mont, processing the day’s events.
"The Emperor is gambling everything on us," Damien said quietly. "Giving us authority, trusting us with this investigation. But his own forces don’t trust us. We’re operating in hostile territory even within imperial institutions."
"Then we succeed anyway," Seria said firmly. "Despite the hostility, despite the suspicion, despite everything working against us. We find the conspiracy, expose it, and prove we’re exactly what the Emperor believed we are."
"No pressure," Elara added wryly.
"Just the fate of the Empire resting on three people from a minor kingdom," Damien agreed. "Should be simple."
They eventually moved to bed, exhaustion claiming them. But Damien lay awake longer than the others, his mind turning over everything he’d learned.
The infiltration was deep. The imperial forces were divided. His own allies were limited.
And sowhere out there, Aldric Brightblade was training to kill him.
The Archdemon’s tiline was ticking down.
He needed to get stronger. Needed to unravel this conspiracy. Needed to prepare for the confrontation that was coming whether he wanted it or not.
All while maintaining his humanity through anchor bonds with two won who were putting their lives at risk just by being associated with him.
No pressure indeed.
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