Chapter 22: We Need Unity

"They escaped?!" Esis's eyes and mouth opened so wide they practically took up his entire face.

"No one expected that bastard to have a Water-Walking scroll on him," Hilton said angrily. "He used it to take that bitch across the river." The expressions of everyone else were equally grim.

"A Water-Walking scroll?" Esis exchanged a bewildered look with the old man.

Crafting magical scrolls wasn't a simple task. Storing a spell that would typically require precise chanting and careful control of magical energy and then releasing it instantaneously involved immense difficulty and cost. The mage creating the scroll needed to master the spell completely and possess magical prowess well above the spell's level. Even the slightest error in crafting could cost the mage their life.

Usually, only a high-level mage could create intermediate-level scrolls, while advanced scrolls required a master magician, and top-tier scrolls bordered on being a major magical project. These scrolls were incredibly valuable, and their materials were exorbitantly expensive, increasing exponentially with the spell's level.

The Water-Walking spell, while not top-tier, wasn't something an average mage could cast or craft. On the continent, there were fewer than twenty mages capable of making such scrolls, and not a single one would willingly waste resources to create one. The scroll's cost-to-benefit ratio was notoriously low, useful only in highly specific, critical situations. Spending hundreds of gold coins just to walk on water for a few steps was almost unthinkable.

"Could it be… that brat planned this all along? He prepared a Water-Walking scroll ahead of time?" Esis scratched his balding head, trying to piece together the truth, though the more he thought, the more confused he became. "But… how could he have known we'd be here? Resting at this exact spot? If he decided only after finding us here… where could he have gotten such a scroll? Did someone deliver it to him? No, that's impossible. This… doesn't make any sense."

"You've got issues, woman!" Hilton turned to Jessica, his scarred face twisting in frustration. "You could've caught up to them—why didn't you keep them engaged? Even if you're no match, taking a few hits wouldn't kill you. You could've bought us time to close in!"

"Why don't you take a few hits and see if it kills you or not?" The veiled woman toyed with her twin daggers, her cold gaze locking on Hilton before flicking briefly toward the man and the druid. "It's not like I'm the only one who's slow."

Hilton hesitated, glancing at the two glowing blue blades in her hands. His gaze then shifted to the druid. "Yeah, Anderson, you caught up with us so quickly earlier—why didn't you charge ahead afterward?"

"When I transform, I may have great bursts of speed, but my stamina is terrible," the druid said with a sheepish grin. Judging by his pudgy, middle-aged figure, his claim seemed entirely believable.

"Damn it! Fine, fine. One's afraid of getting hurt, and the other's out of breath. And just like that, we let those two bastards escape!" Hilton growled, turning away in frustration. "That brat knows we're heading to Turaleone for something big. If he tells that bitch about it and she brings the Royal Knights after us, what then?"

The druid spoke slowly, "I don't think that brat will spill the beans. Even if he does, that Holy Knight might not seek reinforcements. For her to storm our gathering alone shows she's arrogant and disdains working with others. Relations between Celeste and Queen Catherine have always been strained. Besides, the female knight said herself she wants to reclaim her honor in battle. She's probably too proud to ask the Royal Knights for help, at least not right away."

"Probably? Maybe? Damn it!" Hilton nearly jumped up in rage. "We're not on some vacation—we're doing serious business here, making a massive deal. That's tens of thousands of gold coins on the line! There's no room for error. And you're telling me probably? Maybe? What if this deal falls apart because of this? My elves! My treasure!"

"Enough!" A voice like a volcanic eruption boomed from Hilika.

The burly man, who had been sitting silently with a dark expression, suddenly stood up. His face was contorted, veins bulging as his muscles rippled and tensed. Bloodshot eyes scanned the group, one by one.

The intensity of his glare, as if about to drip blood, made Jessica and Hilton instinctively leap back, weapons drawn. The old man and Esis scrambled away in panic, while the druid also took several cautious steps back.

Everyone could feel the explosive fury and killing intent radiating from Hilika. This wasn't the focused aggression of a predator with a target but an all-encompassing, indiscriminate desire to destroy. It was raw, untamed bloodlust that made it seem as though he might grab and tear apart anyone nearby, human or beast, without hesitation.

Only one person didn't retreat—the man still sitting on the ground. His sharp eyes locked onto Hilika, and in a low voice, he said, "You'd better calm down."

Hilika's gaze instantly fell on the man, his eyes gleaming with even greater ferocity. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, dripping down—whether because he was clenching his teeth too hard or had bitten his own tongue or the inside of his cheek. Suddenly, he grasped the little finger of his left hand with his right hand, and a chilling crack rang out.

Hilika's facial muscles twitched, and he let go. His pinky finger was now twisted and broken, a small segment of white bone piercing through the skin under the moonlight. Then he grabbed his ring finger and clenched it—another gut-wrenching crack echoed, breaking that finger as well.

Esis, utterly baffled by what was happening, wanted to ask or stop him but lacked the courage.

The others, however, understood—Hilika was suppressing his emotions.

By the time he had broken his index finger, Hilika shuddered, exhaled shakily, and let out a sound akin to a satisfied groan after an intimate release. His expression finally calmed, as though the raging storm within him had found a release, or as if he had crossed a mental barrier.

"Mr. Saunders," Hilika sat back down, his expression now serene, like that of a monk freshly purified after a ritual. Even his voice carried an unprecedented calmness. His left hand, however, was a mangled mess of twisted fingers, with bones exposed and blood still dripping. Yet Hilika didn't seem to notice, as though the hand belonged to someone else entirely.

What stunned everyone wasn't just this self-inflicted brutality but also the name he spoke. When they saw him looking at the man, it became clear who he was addressing.

"Mr. Saunders, I know that's a fake name, just like the one you mentioned earlier—Sandru. Someone like you couldn't possibly have such an unremarkable name. But I don't care who you really are." Hilika began resetting his broken fingers, one by one, aligning the dislocated bones with an unsettling series of grinding sounds. He didn't so much as glance at his hand, keeping his eyes firmly on the man he called Saunders, his expression calm and serious, like someone addressing a respected elder.

"It was Esis's old friend, Fodolone, who introduced you to us," Hilika continued. "At the time, he gave me your name, and I didn't press further. Fodolone has been working with us for years and is a seasoned scoundrel in Einfast. I trust him. More importantly, we're all here to make money together. So, I don't care what your real name is, who you are, or what you've done in the past. The only thing I care about is whether you can help me achieve our shared goals so that we can all profit."

The man called Saunders didn't respond verbally—he simply nodded silently.

"Everyone, gather around," Hilika gestured to the group like a benevolent host. "I want you all to listen to me."

His tone was firm but inclusive, and as he spoke, it seemed to carry a magnetic authority that compelled attention. "The reason I'm saying all this is so that we stop blaming or suspecting each other. It serves no purpose. Understand that we're all here for the same reason, working toward the same goal. What's done is done; there's no point dwelling on it. What matters now is that we focus all our energy on what's ahead. Never forget that we share a common interest."

"What we need most right now is unity." Hilika clenched his fist, his face radiating both warmth and determination. It was a textbook example of leadership, a display of inspiring charisma.

"Exactly," Hilton nodded vigorously, seemingly moved. The others also nodded in agreement, albeit more subtly.

Only Esis stared at Hilika like a wooden statue, his head tilted in disbelief. His mouth hung open, his facial features contorted as if someone had rearranged them. He wondered if his leader had gone mad from the overwhelming stress.

By noon the next day, the group finally arrived at another base of the Shamusi Thieves Guild.

Unlike the luxurious mansion near the royal city, this base was a run-down, abandoned estate in a remote area. Many thieves had already arrived ahead of them. Surprisingly, the large-scale manhunt they had feared hadn't materialized—not even routine patrols.

Without waiting for the other thieves to gather, Hilika immediately convened a meeting.

He outlined his plan in detail. Given the presence of a traitor, their actions needed to be expedited—they would head to the Turaleone Forest as quickly as possible.

The plan was thorough, eliciting frequent nods from Hilton, the old man, and the druid. They were impressed by the level of strategy Hilika displayed, which seemed at odds with his usual brutish demeanor. The other thieves, however, found nothing unusual. What puzzled them was something else—Hilika seemed to have become more subdued. The feral bloodlust and animalistic aggression that once defined him were gone, replaced by a quiet intensity that felt even more dangerous.

The Shamusi Thieves Guild prided itself on its military-like efficiency. As soon as Hilika finished explaining the details, his men dispersed to prepare. Rooms were arranged for Hilton and the others so they could rest and regain their strength. However, the man called Saunders declined rest, stating he wanted to head out alone to make some preparations.

Once all outsiders had left, only the original members of the guild remained.

Hilika suddenly turned to Esis and said, "I remember that little white magic-using brat who escaped—he was the one you brought in, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Esis replied, trembling with fear. He wasn't sure why, but even though Hilika seemed less violent now, he felt more terrified than ever. "But I had no idea that kid would do something like this! I just heard from a couple of our guys that there was a skilled fighter looking for work. I went to talk to him, saw he was decent, and brought him in. Boss, you can ask those two guys..."

Hilika didn't look at anyone else. He simply asked calmly, "Then you must have investigated that kid's background thoroughly?"

"I did, I did." Esis nodded vigorously, like a pecking chicken. "The intelligence team quietly checked him out. The information is absolutely reliable. The kid's grandfather was killed by orcs, and his sister went insane from the shock, so he's desperate for money."

"Good." Hilika nodded. His expression showed no fluctuation, and his tone was as calm as if he were chatting over afternoon tea. He turned to two thieves and said, "You two, go to that kid's hometown as quickly as possible and capture his sister. Cut off her hands and feet first, but make sure she doesn't die. Bring her back to me. And remember," he paused, his voice still calm and light, yet half the people present felt their skin crawl, "before she's delivered to me, she must have been used by at least fifty men in every possible way. She has to be alive and in decent condition, at least enough for me to use her again a few times in front of that kid."

"Yes." The two thieves nearly ran out of the room in terror.

Hilika let out a long breath and said casually to another thief beside him, "Go find five or six women for me immediately."

The thief froze, then hesitated, "Boss... out here in the middle of nowhere, how could we possibly find women right away?"

Hilika's face showed no anger, not even a hint of emotion. He simply swung a slap at the thief's face. "If you can't do it right away, then do it as quickly as you can."

"Yes, yes." The surrounding thieves scattered in a frenzy, leaving only Esis and the one who had been slapped behind.

The slapped thief didn't stay because he didn't want to but because he couldn't move. Half his head had been completely smashed into an unrecognizable mess, the twisted remnants of his skull stretching from his left side, curving down to his back, and then back up to his right. He staggered a few steps as if still trying to walk away, then collapsed with a heavy thud.

Hilika turned toward the inner rooms, his steps unhurried. "Come on, Esis," he said in a casual tone, "I think it's time we informed our employer."