In an inn located in the city of Tezora, not far from the central market, a young girl was having a restless sleep. Trapped in a nightmare, she woke up sweating and breathless, with no memory of what she had dreamt. Tears began to stream down her cheeks. Confused and struggling to remember, she was struck by a sharp headache. Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted her moment of distress. It was her servant, Melvis, coming to wake her up and help her get ready.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Melvis asked.

“Yes, and as usual, I don't remember a thing. All I feel is sadness and overwhelming hot flashes, as if I were burning,” Emilya replied.

Slowly, she got out of bed to take a bath, submerging herself in the water to clear her mind. Afterward, Melvis helped her dress before listing her schedule for the day.

“First, you need to go to Lady Hermira’s house to heal her daughter. Then, in the afternoon, you promised to bring rain to the wheat fields. And finally, as requested, I found the person who can get you into that place. She’ll be waiting in the alley near a bar on the other side of the market street tonight at 1:00 AM.”

“Good!” Emilya said firmly as she put on her cloak.

Emilya had introduced herself to the city’s mayor as an experienced mage. In exchange for free lodging, she helped the villagers with tasks they couldn't accomplish on their own. The mayor provided them with two rooms in the best inn in town: one for Emilya and the other for Melvis. They formed a rare duo—a mage and a fighter—as these two classes generally didn't get along. However, because theirs was a mistress-and-servant relationship, their partnership worked much better.

She went about her day, and when night fell, a masked young woman was waiting for them in a dark alley behind the bar. Without a word, she gestured for them to follow. The three of them walked through increasingly dark alleyways, so much so that the city seemed to expand around them. They stopped in front of a small door slightly outside the city limits. When the woman whispered something under her breath, the door opened. Someone was waiting for them behind it: a fairly tall man, also wearing a mask. They were entrusted to him. Judging by the wrinkles on the lower part of his face, he appeared quite old. Shortly after, the young woman vanished into the darkness of the night. The old man led them toward a large hall where they borrowed masks of their own and changed their clothes. Once disguised, they proceeded to an even larger room flooded with light. The old man showed them to their seats, and soon after, the auction began.

“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce myself: I will be presiding over today’s auction. Thank you all for attending. Without further ado, we will begin with a flagship item: a mermaid’s tear, said to cure any illness, even the most fatal. Starting price is 200 gold coins!”

“300!” called out a woman at the back of the room, holding up paddle number 105.

“450!” called a man near the front with number 99.

“500!” another man chimed in.

“500, do I hear any higher? Going once, going twice... Sold to the gentleman with paddle number 65!”

Several items passed in this manner. Nobles from various lands spent astronomical sums on extremely rare objects, most of which served merely as decoration. Suddenly, the room fell silent. The lights dimmed, and a spotlight focused directly on the center of the stage. The audience wondered what kind of item could warrant such dramatic staging.

“Here is an item no one expected to see today—a thing so precious it was once a mere dream for any human, an artifact that will allow you to enter legend itself. Behold... a dragon egg! With this, nothing will be impossible for you, provided you manage to tame it. Bidding starts at 750 gold coins!”

“1,000!” called a gentleman from the balcony with paddle number 55.

“2,000!” called a young woman from the adjacent balcony.

“2,500!” another young woman shouted.

“3,000!” the first gentleman shot back.

“4,000!” the young woman on the balcony replied, almost provocatively.

“5,000!” the gentleman raised, responding to her provocation.

The young woman went quiet; she must have reached her budget limit.

Human greed really knows no bounds. That fool has no idea he just bought a ticking time bomb. A dragon baby can't be tamed because its mother will inevitably come to retrieve it and kill his entire family in the process. Granted, that information is only known to magic practitioners, but I do wonder how they managed to get a hold of that egg, Emilya thought, amused by the situation.

The auction resumed, but no other item sold for a price as high as the egg. For that amount of money, one could buy land in a province and rule over it as a lord. Finally, the last item came up—the exact object Emilya had been waiting for.

“To conclude tonight’s event, here is our final item: the Card of Kizuna. It allows you to find anything, as long as it exists. Whether it’s an enemy hidden at the far end of the world or a miraculous plant, it has no usage limits. Bidding starts at 500 gold coins!”

“750!” Emilya called out from the back, holding paddle number 22.

“900!” a young man in the back row shouted with paddle number 10.

“1,000!” Emilya raised immediately.

No one else put in an offer. The auctioneer spoke up again:

“No higher bids? Very well, go—”

“1,200!” the young man in the back row interrupted.

Emilya turned toward him with a slightly irritated look.

“1,300!” she countered.

“1,500!” the young man raised.

“1,700!”

“1,900!”

“2,200!” Emilya shouted to put an end to the duel.

The young man didn't respond to her final raise. The auctioneer stepped in once more. Emilya realized she had spent far more than she had initially planned for this card.

“Very well! Sold to the lady with paddle number 22! On that note, that concludes our auction for tonight. For those who are new and wish to be notified of our upcoming items, please wait in the adjoining room to process your file. I bid you all farewell and a good night,” he said, taking a bow.

The guests gradually left the room. Those who had made purchases were escorted to the retrieval room to collect their items. Emilya crossed paths with the man who had bought the egg; she looked at him with pity and wished him good luck in her mind. She claimed her card, returned to the room where she had changed earlier, and was guided toward the exit.

A few minutes after stepping outside, someone began following them. Noticing the presence immediately, Emilya stopped dead in her tracks, spun around sharply, and dropped into a combat stance. She demanded two simple answers:

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?”

The stranger didn't answer and stepped calmly out of the shadows. He was hooded, with a sword strapped to his belt. A warrior?!

Before Emilya could even react, he lunged at her and blew a powder into her face. She coughed lightly, but seeing that the attack was harmless, she turned toward the man who was now behind her. She noticed an object in his hands and immediately realized it was her card.

“Thanks!” the stranger teased, mocking her.

A second later, a heavy feeling washed over her. Her vision blurred, and she lost her balance, though she managed to stay on her feet.

“What did you do to me, you dirty thief? Poursue him! Don't let him get away!” she ordered Melvis.

“But... what about you, Lady Emilya? Are you alright?”

“Yes, I can take care of myself. Catch him and bring him back to me!” she demanded furiously.

“Understood, I'm on it!”

Melvis sprinted after the thief. It took her a moment, but she eventually caught up to him. Lifting her skirt where she concealed her weapons, she threw throwing knives at him, which he dodged with ease. Along the way, she retrieved her knives and grabbed a rope, wrapping it around one of them before throwing it again. He dodged it once more. As they tore through the town streets, Melvis set a trap by taking a shortcut—having stayed in the city for a while, she knew the layout well. They ended up face to face. Melvis threw her rope at him; he dodged, then lunged forward to engage in hand-to-hand combat. However, she parried his strikes one by one. While he stood stunned by her technique, she took advantage of his hesitation to grab him and tie him up securely.

She was getting ready to bring him back to Emilya. Meanwhile, after Melvis had taken off in pursuit, Emilya searched for a way to dispel the effects of the powder. But the harder she tried to resist, the stronger the urge to sleep became. She couldn't comprehend why this sleeping potion worked on her, but falling asleep right now was out of the question. Thinking fast, she grabbed the dagger at her hip and drove it into her own hand. It hurt immensely, but she bit her lip to keep from screaming, using the sharp pain to stave off the drowsiness. Grabbing her magic staff, she ran after Melvis. When she finally caught up, the fight was already over. Seeing her mistress wounded, Melvis rushed over and suggested heading back to the inn so she could tend to the injury. Emilya agreed, and together with their prisoner, they settled into the inn’s lobby. It was empty, ensuring no one would disturb them.

“I'll rephrase my questions: who are you? And why did you steal my card?”

“Don't tell me you've already forgotten about me? The last time we met, you seemed crazy enough, but now you've truly lost your mind!”