novelraw Chapter 172: Aurora, the Enforcer
Chapter 172: Aurora, the Enforcer
At the end of the day, strength was the only real currency.
If she were already third-rank, openly selling third-rank potions, what third-rank client would be scared off by Blighted Hand Wilbur—or the Aldrich behind him—enough to pass up valuable potions right in front of them? Potions that could boost their power or patch them up?
In the end, they still saw her as just another second-rank Corpse Hall apprentice. Someone they could push around. Someone who had to cling to Ascension Road to get the good stuff to advance.
But she wasn’t.
A cold glint passed through Pandora’s eyes.
Still, not caring didn’t mean she’d forget.
This move against her—this nasty little plot to burn the ground under her feet—Pandora filed it away. She kept her books clean. Favors were repaid. Debts… were collected. She just needed the right time and the right method.
Her calm gaze turned back toward the heart of the commotion outside the window, as if she could see through the walls and the distance to the faces of the troublemakers.
Just as Pandora was turning this over in her mind, Nicole opposite her let out a soft gasp and pointed out the window again, her tone sharp with a new discovery.
“Hey! Wait!”
“Over there… something’s changing!”
Pandora focused instantly, looking where Nicole pointed.
The edge of the crowd was shifting again. The packed mass of onlookers parted slightly to the left and right, opening a narrow lane.
A figure in a dark uniform, tall and straight-backed, was walking with steady, deliberate steps through the gap, heading straight for the center of the trouble.
The pace wasn’t fast, but it carried an unshakeable certainty. Even from this distance, seeing only the profile and the posture, Pandora knew her instantly.
Aurora.
What made Pandora’s heart give a little jump was the feel of Aurora now. It was different. Gone was the faint, floaty newness of a fresh apprentice. This was solid. Dense. Tempered, but with a sharp edge held tightly in check.
This feeling…
Second Rank.
Aurora had advanced to second rank.
A ripple of genuine surprise moved through Pandora. From their arrival in the Ruined Capital’s Corpse Hall world until now, it had been barely ten months. That kind of speed… Corpse-Red Mist alone couldn’t explain it. That took serious talent. Brutal discipline. Day-after-day grinding effort.
A complex mix of respect—for this former knight of hers—and a thread of real warmth for her friend, settled in Pandora’s chest.
Coming back to the moment, Pandora took in Aurora’s attire. The standard uniform of an Eden Enforcer. The design borrowed from the Blood Hall's style—dark grey, practical cut, no flash. The details were hard to make out from here, but the quiet, authoritative air of an “Enforcer” came through clearly.
Eden’s Enforcers kept the basic peace in the apprentice district. They settled disputes, investigated rule-breaking, handed out punishment.
Pandora had seen them around lately, patrolling or breaking up scuffles. But she hadn’t expected Aurora to join their ranks. That was… a surprise. From what she knew of Aurora—a resilient, solitary woman who poured everything into her blade and her training—she didn’t seem the type for patrols and paperwork.
But it was Aurora’s choice. Pandora had no right to judge it, nor any desire to.
The question was… why was she here now?
A thought sprang up in Pandora’s mind: Should she go get a closer look?
To see how Aurora handled it. To see the troublemakers’ faces when an Enforcer showed up. To see Wilbur’s reaction.
But… her disguise today was just basic makeup and facial adjustment. Enough to fool a stranger at a distance. Up close, the risk shot up.
Was it worth it?
Pandora’s fingers tapped a soft rhythm on the tabletop.
Go, or stay?
A rare, small knot of hesitation formed in her gut.
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The streets of Ascension Road were always packed and loud. Apprentices, brokers, peddlers, scavengers—all kinds of people jostled on the narrow lanes. The noise of haggling, arguing, hauling goods, mixed with the Ruined Capital’s unique, grimy smell, was just the normal background here.
Today, one usually quiet spot had become the center of a human whirlpool.
A painfully plain, almost crude, storefront. No sign. No ads. Not even a cheap slogan. The “shop window” was just a few panes of glass, wiped clean but edges gone blurry. Behind it, nothing. No displays. It just sat there, tucked between more normal shops, mostly ignored.
Right now, in front of this clearly closed-up shop, people were packed in tight. Three layers deep, maybe more.
A few men—faces either totally unknown or twisted with performed rage—stood at the heart of the crowd, yelling themselves hoarse, spit flying.
“This is the place!” A scrawny, sallow-faced man waved an arm wrapped in dirty bandages, his voice a sharp shriek. Suspicious yellow-green sludge seeped through the cloth, giving off a faint, fishy stink.
“That alchemist—the ‘Empty Vial,’ the ‘Baroness’—sold me a complete fake! ‘Healing Essence Ointment,’ my ass! It’s poison!”
He glared with bloodshot eyes, like he wanted to burn a hole through the empty shop.
“It closed the wound up at first! Felt like it was scabbing over!”
“But three days! Just three days!” He thrust out three grimy fingers, shaking them violently. “It rotted worse than before! Hurts more! Won’t stop weeping pus!”