### Chapter 23: Stalking (Part II)
The night breeze was peaceful, whispering softly in my ears.
Alectine City’s nightlife was bright and illuminated, but at this hour, the streets were startlingly empty. Many shops had already closed up. Over on Jasmine Lane, with more taverns, brothels, and casinos, the atmosphere was marginally better, though still quieter compared to daytime. The only company you’d find were the occasional drunken souls, most of whom were sprawled out on the side of the road. Even the War Chariots that passed by seemed to be in a hurry, unwilling to take a pit stop.
In such conditions, tracking someone became as easy as pie.
The two men, seemingly part of the Warhammer Army, strolled down the street until they reached the alleyway. After twisting and turning, they finally slipped into an old house at the end of a narrow street. Moments later, they emerged completely transformed—cloaked in pitch-black robes and brandishing swords, they picked up the pace toward the city’s southern region.
And there I was, tailing them closely but not too close.
The night in the city was eerily quiet. Apart from the occasional barking dog and drunken stumblers meandering with their booze, there was hardly any noise to be heard. Most streets were deathly silent.
I hopped along rooftops, gliding through the tranquil night as I followed the two men to the southern part of the city. They navigated through countless old alleyways, and every now and then, I could catch snippets of their hushed conversation.
“Three guys have been hiding in the city for a year… Haha! Talk about audacity… but no one noticed. Gotta admit, that’s impressive, though I bet they had some noble help…”
“They’ve gone and hidden in a place no one would think to look—in a farm on the outskirts in the middle of construction. It’s a pretty well-concealed hideout, but something happened there recently…”
“What happened…?”
“Alectine City is redistributing land, you’re aware of that, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Some of those farms and fields on the outskirts have already been revamped, and the rest shouldn’t take too long… I’m thinking by the end of this year, give or take… It’s supposed to be handed over to the city lord once those grand estates are up. Only the city lord has the power to plan the fields and regulate farming… But, you know, the city lord kicked the bucket in that heretic war two years ago along with his two sons…”
“Afterward, for reasons unknown, they’ve been unable to decide on a new city lord… Starved for a good old brawl up top, but nothing has surfaced, and we’re out of the loop… However, from what I’ve heard, the new currency exchange folks are neck-deep in it…”
“…They’re not going to hand out even half a mu of land to the poor. And don’t talk about those refugees who fled here hoping to settle down in Alectine City… let me tell you, for those who’ve lost their last pennies, they’re destined to become serfs.”
“Just like when planning those hunting grounds outside the city—only those who pay and secure a noble’s permission get to hunt, and the best cuts of meat? Oops! Those gotta go back to the noble who owns the hunting ground, leaving you with barely a scrap…”
“And what can you do? You’re just a commoner, nothing more than a joke! You can’t even raise a complaint, let alone hunt on your own; otherwise, you’ll end up with a nice little punishment of having your eyes gouged out…”
“Did you know? In all this, we, the Warhammer Army, are just the despicable lackeys. We’ve earned a reputation that reeks in the eyes of many! All because our boss can rake in unimaginable benefits…”
“The outcome is pretty obvious—commoners can’t afford meat anymore, and the price of bread isn’t looking like it’ll drop anytime soon, at least not in the short term… So those refugees wishing for survival? They either pack up and leave the city, starving or falling ill in the wilds after a couple of weeks, with no one to pick up their bodies… Or they become slaves to those high-and-mighty lords, remaining in this city, working their butts off just to put a meal on the table, living a life worse than dogs…”
“And us? We’re just the pampered mutts of the upper crust, starving but not dead, chained up to guard like watchdogs. If we do well, we might even score a drink now and then, that’s the life we begrudgingly muddle through…”
“Oh, for crying out loud, it’s not all bad. The problem is they gobble up the gold coins while no one’s willing to cough up a single one to reward us, the ones risking it all… What a bunch of despicable, greed-fueled scoundrels… I hear this isn’t even the original city lord’s idea, but you know, they’ve got hardly any competent men left…”
“But many aren’t woke to this yet, Westerlo… They’re just like your naive wife, eagerly eyeing how much farmland they can grab. Only a few have caught on to the real deal…”
“d*mn it, why bring up my wife? Hasn’t anyone ever told you, you drone on like Blair’s grandma?”
“Listen, this is important. I just want to clarify things for you… that’s just how I am… What were we talking about?”
“… The few people, right. Only a select few, the insiders, they’ve started to get restless and, with the support from dissenting nobles, have clashed with the currency exchange and us Warhammer types several times this month…”
“At first, both sides were pretty restrained, but as the conflict dragged on, patience wore thin. A few evenings ago, there was a ruckus at the estate outside, led by a hot-tempered guy who started throwing punches at our Warhammer folks after just a couple of words…”
“Of course, I wasn’t there, but apparently, during the kerfuffle, a noble lady tried to intervene to de-escalate things but got accidentally hurt…”
“Then out of nowhere, three men charged in, quick as lightning, and in an absolute rage, they beat the guy who hurt the noble lady to a pulp. With all those witnesses around, not a single soul could stop them. They watched the whole thing play out, and then, like heroes, they whisked the lady away…”
“Wait a minute… are those three the ones you’re talking about?”
“Yep.”
“How are you so sure? Sounds more like the lady’s personal guards.”
“Ha! Personal guards? Dressed like beggars? If they were really guards, they wouldn’t wait until the lady got hurt to spring into action. Aren’t they afraid of losing their heads?”
“How do you know all this so well…”
“Because, as luck would have it, the guy who got clobbered was acquainted with one of my friends.”
“…The one we’re meeting tonight?”
“No, no, just some good-for-nothing, and he’s dead now… All his bones got broken, couldn’t even last the night; by dawn, he was toast…”
“But my old pal saw him still breathing when they met. They said the ones who hit him weren’t the noble’s private soldiers; they had shabby clothes but fought like knights. That guy, back in Fertown, saw the Church Knights’ training camp, so he could recognize those moves.”
“And my buddy, being involved with the Knowledge Association, has a list of the Third Knights Order’s deserters. He was tasked with some stuff, and when he heard that, he knew something was off… So, he staked out the scene for a few nights, not expecting much, but guess what? He actually spotted them… Oh, look! There they are…”
In a nearby alley by the city gate, the two men carried on their conversation, striding quickly toward two figures waiting in the shadows ahead.
