They left when midnight arrived.

Ronan and Aura followed Maren through Xyta’s empty streets, their footsteps barely audible against the cracked stone roads.

Before they’d left, Maren had asked her sister – casual questions about Delilah’s health, whether she was eating properly, if she’d mentioned anything about coming home soon.

Aura had handled it surprisingly well, making it seem like they were decent friends.

She’d known just enough about Delilah to piece together convincing lies. Mentioning her love for sweets, her habit of staying up late researching runes, the way she complained about Luminara’s strict curfews but never actually broke them.

Ronan wasn’t actually sure how Aura got such accurate information, but he didn’t question it much.

Maren had smiled at that, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. Aura’s lies had really been convincing, then.

And it also looked like the sisters were rather close.

Ronan had watched the exchange quietly, then asked a different question.

"If Delilah’s as protective as you say, why is she okay with you doing this?"

Maren’s smile had faded.

"I might have left out some details about how dangerous it actually is."

Now, they walked in silence.

Maren led them through turns and twists that seemed pointless – backtracking, circling the same block twice, cutting through alleys that looped into each other.

Ronan recognized it as basic counter-surveillance.

After roughly thirty minutes, they stopped.

In front of them stood a wall.

A plain wall.

This could still be a setup.

Ronan prepared himself, ready to activate [Stealth] if this turned into an elaborate ambush.

But Maren simply pressed her palm flat against the surface.

Symbols flared to life across the stone – six of them, glowing faintly before dimming again.

Then Maren flowed her mana into the wall.

One symbol lit at a time. Eight pulses total, each in a seemingly random order: third, first, fifth, second, sixth, fourth, second, first.

A passcode.

Ronan filed the sequence away immediately. It might be useful later.

The wall shook, then split apart.

Stone steps appeared beneath them, descending into darkness.

Maren glanced back and nodded.

Ronan and Aura followed without hesitation.

The stairs spiraled downward, narrow and uneven. Behind them, the wall sealed shut, cutting off the moonlight entirely.

They walked in pitch black for what felt like minutes, until finally reaching another door.

Maren stopped.

She turned back one last time, her expression serious.

"Remember. You’re both orphans. You’re desperate. You’ve got nothing left. That’s why you’re here." 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Ronan nodded.

Both him and Aura had youthful appearances. They could be mistaken for a few years younger than they really were.

Maren reached for the handle.

She opened the door slowly.

Warm air spilled out immediately, carrying the smell of candle smoke, damp stone, cheap incense, and something metallic under it all.

Blood.

Ronan stepped inside with Aura beside him, adjusting his expression into a more worn and resigned one to match the atmosphere.

The chamber was not as theatrical as he’d expected. No grand statues. No perfectly arranged hooded figures chanting in unison. Instead, it looked like an underground shelter that had been slowly converted into a place of worship. Wooden benches lined the walls, candles lighting up the room, old rug, and blood-marked clothing strips hung from iron hooks near the ceiling.

Dozens of people waited inside.

Some looked like criminals, and the way they carried themselves showed that they were willing to resort to violence at any time.

Others looked like laborers, their hands calloused and their builds sturdy. A few looked like beggars, too, thin and lanky. And scattered among them were children – too young to be here, but desperate enough that they came anyway.

Most did not look fanatical in a way you’d expect from a cult.

They looked desperate.

Aura walked silently beside him, her fake blonde hair flowing against her back. Her eyes moved slowly across the chamber, then lingered on the symbols carved into the walls. Most of them looked crude and inconsistent, like humans guessing at demonic script without understanding what the shapes truly meant.

But Aura stopped.

Her gaze fixed on one symbol near the far wall. He couldn’t make it out from here, especially in the dark room, but it looked like a star of some kind.

Ronan noticed the smallest change in her posture. She recognized something.

He didn’t ask there and then, of course. The room was already watching them.

Maren stepped forward as though she belonged there, but her shoulders were slightly stiff.

A thin man with a grotesque scar across his face moved into their path, blocking them with one raised hand.

"Why’d ya bring outsiders?"

Maren’s voice stayed steady.

"They’re orphans. Nowhere else to go."

The man studied Ronan and Aura, his gaze sharp and assessing.

Then he turned back to Maren.

"You know the rule," the scarred man said. "Their blood is on yours if they waste our time."

Maren nodded.

The scarred man turned back to them.

"You understand what kind of place this is?"

Ronan lowered his gaze slightly, making himself look worn down and nervous.

"We were told this was a place for people abandoned by the kingdom."

Aura said nothing.

The silence helped her look more frightened.

The man shifted his attention back to Ronan.

"What do you want from the Blood Deity?"

Blood Deity?

Ronan kept his tone flat, broken.

"Revenge against those who destroyed my family."

He remembered what Maren had told him about many people here wanting revenge, so he went with it.

Maren glanced at him for half a second, but she didn’t interrupt.

The scarred man grunted.

"And you, girl?"

Aura glanced around before answering bluntly.

"Food."

The man seemed pleased by their responses.

"Only the wounded are heard by the Deity of Blood."

Ronan nodded in understanding. The phrase sounded rehearsed, likely to make desperate people feel "chosen."

Aura, however, instantly repeated it, surprising him completely.

"Only the wounded are heard by the Deity of Blood."

The man seemed pleased by her response, and then turned to Ronan expectantly.

Is she familiar with this Blood Deity? Ronan thought. I don’t remember reading about any Blood Deity in the novel, only the Goddess of Light. I assumed it was some false deity made up to trick people, but Aura’s reaction suggests otherwise.

Steeling his eyes, making himself look as fierce and determined as he could, Ronan repeated.

"Only the wounded are heard by the Deity of Blood."