The Warlord's Carnal System

What should have been a simple scout mission had devolved into witnessing a deadly coup.

And now, the five members from the Sinclair Duchy found themselves taking what could only be described as a "leisurely tour" through Raven Spire's old but absurdly spacious underground sewers.

'What kind of "hiding for dear life" is called a leisurely tour?!'

Rune was absolutely right.

In the hollow, damp, and reeking tunnel, five figures moved in single file. Four wore lustrous brown coats. One, a woman in a white blouse streaked with the crimson of the royal unit's blood and a secretary skirt, walked without such protection against the cold.

They were led by Lydia, whose vampiric senses could perceive things better than the rest in the suffocating darkness of the underground tunnel. Behind her followed Ilya, then Rune, Sera, and finally Merin.

These underground sewers connected to various parts of the city, including the Starfall Enclave.

The night was still young, and their weapons remained in the destroyed convoy wagons near the Saytan family estate within the enclave.

"How is there no commotion when they ambushed the whole convoy?" Lydia asked, glancing back at Ilya from the corner of her eye.

Ilya, still recovering from shock, trembled slightly. She looked better than when Rune had found her at the turning, but only marginally so.

"There were more than fifty shadows in the Saytans' estate," Ilya spoke quietly, her voice carrying the weight of memory.

The deadly hours she'd spent in that cursed place.

"I... I barely survived thanks to the guards..." Her voice cracked. Her eyes turned visibly pale again.

Lydia felt a pang of regret for letting her curiosity win, for making Ilya struggle with memories of her near-death ordeal.

"We'll find out more when we get there anyway," Rune said from behind Ilya, his tone deliberately light.

Lydia nodded.

The five of them walked in silence for a stretch, the only sounds their footsteps echoing against damp stone and the distant drip of water somewhere in the darkness.

Then Ilya spoke again.

"Sorry..."

Her trembling had settled somewhat. Her blood-forsaken pale face had returned closer to its usual beautiful composure.

"I... we... brought you into something dangerous and..." Ilya couldn't find the words to thank them for not abandoning her.

Rune and his group had no obligation to follow Ilya. No reason to involve themselves in these matters anymore.

The mission he'd been given in exchange for pardon of his crimes was now officially invalid. Protecting Ilya was outside their contract.

And Ilya wasn't in any state to articulate sentences that would convey gratitude without revealing vulnerability.

Not to mention she'd abandoned their weapons.

Ilya knew Rune's katana alone had to be at least S-minus tier... considering it possessed an inbuilt homing feature and was resilient enough to channel Aura Slash without shattering.

She didn't know about the sword's pseudo circuits or its four deadly attributes, so she'd conservatively estimated S-minus at worst, S at best.

She also knew about Merin's A-plus-tier daggers. Sera's two swords — one C-rank and one dormant S-rank. Lydia's makeshift threaded and poison-tipped daggers, along with her hidden paralysis pins.

All of them were left behind in the wagons.

And now they were heading back to retrieve them.

The realization that she was making them risk their lives to recover weapons when it was clearly her fault they'd been abandoned in the first place pressed down on her self-confidence like a physical weight.

She'd always been enthusiastic and willing to represent her Duchess. But now she cursed herself for representing the current Sinclair patriarch in this way.

Coupling it with the chilling northern nights and the fact that they were trudging through a sewer only added insult to injury especially for someone afflicted with Fragile Constitution, the weakness for her Omi-Aptitude(S+).

She trembled lightly, rubbing her left shoulder with her right hand.

Unlike the rest of her group, she didn't have a lustrous coat protecting her from the cold.

'I truly am pathetic.'

Then something warm enveloped her fragile form from behind.

A lustrous coat settled over her shoulders, covering her in immediate warmth.

"Huh...?"

She turned back. Her moist eyes found golden ones. The bearer wore a soft smile visible even in the darkness her eyes had adjusted to.

"You're welcome," Rune said, his smile genuinely cheerful despite everything.

Ilya turned her head away instantly... before any vulnerability could slip through.

Her hands gripped the edges of the coat tightly, pulling them together and allowing herself to soak in the newfound warmth.

She pressed her lips tightly.

"Thank you..." she mumbled, her voice reaching only her own ears.

Rune felt a tug on his tight, body-hugging linen shirt.

He turned back to find Sera pouting adorably.

"I'm cold too..." she said, looking sideways with that pout firmly in place.

"You have a coat... and I don't even have that anymore," Rune replied as he suddenly felt a wave of night chill pass through him unimpeded.

'If underground is this cold... I don't even want to think about the capital's nights above.'

After some time passed, he sensed Sera's mood hadn't improved any more than his condition against the winds.

"Umm... Sera..." he whispered.

Her ice-blue eyes found his in the dark.

"How about we share the coat?" Rune suggested, scratching his cheek awkwardly.

Sera chuckled, a sound like tinkling bells, and dashed into Rune's embrace without hesitation.

"Sure," she said, her voice teasing yet bright as she smirked up at him.

Sera removed her left arm from within the coat and let Rune slip inside beside her.

She pressed her body against his, making the coat's job easier.

The lustrous leather coat barely covered Rune's back now but it was better than before.

"If you feel cold, let me know..." Rune whispered. If she felt uncomfortable sharing the coat, he could resort to circulating aura to maintain warmth from within his body instead.

But Sera shook her head gently against his chest.

"I like it better this way," she whispered back to him, her voice cheerful and warm in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

And just like that, wrapped together in shared warmth, they reached their destination.

The underground tunnels of the enclave stretched before them like gaping jaws waiting to swallow them whole.

Right into the den of their enemies.

The SBV's capital branch.

The location of the coup.

The location that would soon transform into a warzone.

The Starfall Enclave.