It took three full days for Leier and her team to map the Outer Region of Askiv—the slums that sprawled beyond the inner walls. The place resembled an anthill, chaotic and cramped, its streets spreading in irregular patterns. Homes had been stacked wherever space allowed, made of scavenged wood, broken bricks, and hay. Entire neighborhoods looked like they could collapse under the slightest breeze.

Leier stood in a dirty and narrow street, where the disgusting smell of death and hunger lingered, leaning against a crumbling house as she studied the parchment in her hands - "How many houses per street?" - she asked, her voice low.

beneath a crumbling awning, studying the parchment in her hands. "How many houses per street?" she asked, her voice low.

"About a hundred, Captain," replied the Shadow Guardsbeside her. She glanced around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, though it was hardly necessary. The people passing by looked more like ghosts than citizens, hungry, hollow-eyed, too weak to care or even look up.

Leier did the math quickly in her head. "Fifty-one streets. That's roughly five thousand one hundred homes. Multiply by seven people per house…" She paused, tapping the map with one gloved finger. "That's over thirty thousand people. An entire province's worth, living like rats."

The guard nodded and pointed to several red marks across the parchment. "We have also identified six major groups operating in the underground. They control the flow of food, money, shelter, even the right to build these makeshift homes. Nothing happens here without their approval."

"Are they at war?" Leier asked, her eye narrowing.

The guard shook her head. "No open conflict. Our sisters are still gathering more details, but from what we have seen, It is… quiet. Too quiet. Like someone is keeping them in check."

"A noble," Leier concluded without hesitation.

"Not just one," the guard replied. "It looks like each group answers to a different noble, or perhaps even a noble family. But none of them are making a move. They are sitting still. Dividing the regions evenly, as if by mutual agreement."

Leier frowned, her gaze falling back to the map. Her gloved fingertip traced one of the crooked alleys, then slid to another. "Peace like this never lasts," she muttered. "No noble sits on power without wanting more. There's always someone hungrier. Always a bigger game to play."

She slowly rolled the parchment. "If they're staying quiet now, it's only because of the war, or because they are waiting for the right moment to strike. And once one of them moves, the others will follow. When that happens, this entire slum will go up in flames."

Xena, the Shadow Guard at her side, said nothing, but gave a single nod.

"We need to take control of this district," Leier said emotionless "And to do that, we start by choosing the right piece." She tapped the rolled map in her hand. "Which of these groups do we go after first, Xena?" The latest chapters are uploaded first on M|V|LE3MPYR.

Xena hesitated, lowering her gaze in thought. "Perhaps… the ones who control the taverns?" she suggested, her voice uncertain.

Leier tilted her head and gave a faint smile. "Not a bad guess. Taverns gather whispers. But we are not just chasing gossip, are we?" Her blue eye narrowed, gleaming with calculation. "The question isn't who has the most rumors. The question is, what do the people need most?"

She swept a hand toward the street. Zombie-like figures shuffled past like shadows. Hollow faces, gaunt limbs. People whose bones showed through their torn clothes. Poverty and hunger was everywhere.

Xena followed her gaze. "Food," she said softly.

"Exactly." Leier's grin widened. "Food is the real gold here. If we take the food, we take the hearts of this place. People will talk to us, serve us, beg us to protect them. Control the food, and you control the streets."

"But… what about the nobles?" Xena asked, furrowing her brow. "Won't they notice something's wrong?"

Leier scoffed, her tone sharp. "Do you really think a noble would set foot here?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Those silk-cloaked cowards won't leave their Inner District. Did you see how they looked at these people? Like rats in a sewer. As long as we keep the flow of information sealed, they will never know what's happening on this side of the wall."

Xena nodded, understanding what her captain's plan.

"The moment we control the food," Leier continued, her voice low and sure, "we start seeding doubt. Let the other groups suspect each other. Let the nobles think their dogs are fighting over scraps. We'll stay in the shadows, pull their strings, and take them down one by one."

She turned, stepping carefully through the maze of broken houses and sleeping bodies. The narrow streets stank of rot and human waste. It was like walking through a graveyard where no one had died, only given up.

Leier and Xena slipped between abandoned carts, never meeting the eyes of the half-dead who barely noticed their presence.

"We move fast," she said, her voice just loud enough for Xena to hear. "Fast, but quiet. We start with the food. Then we hit the rest. One corner at a time. And when the nobles finally lift their eyes…" she smiled faintly, "it will already be under our king's palms."

Xena's eyes gleamed under the hood's shadow. "When should we begin, Captain?" Her voice was steady, but the eagerness behind it was clear. She looked ready, itching for action.

"Tonight," Leier said without hesitation.

Xena swallowed hard. Her hand drifted instinctively toward the hilt of her dagger, fingers brushing over the worn leather grip.

"We'll target the underground group controlling the food," Leier said. "We'll disguise ourselves as the women who carry the grain sacks and strike first at the distribution point near the canal, where the Inner District's sewers spill out."

The organization running food in the Outer Region smuggled dozens of sacks from the Inner District through the sewer lines. It was a disgusting fact, but one that kept the people here alive, since most of the grain produced was delivered first to the Inner District. That was Leier's target.