When they appeared back in the physical world, the first thing Damien took notice of was the sunlight streaking in through the windows. It seemed night had passed in this place despite them only spending a few hours on the other side.

  That was one of the unpredictable things about spending time in the metaphysical: time was unreliable. You could spend minutes in the metaphysical and hours could pass you by in the physical.

  Damien had even read that going deep into the metaphysical had more adverse effects, where a few seconds very deep in would see days passing in the physical. Spending hours or days deep in the metaphysical was definitely sure to have one come out and find that years had passed by in the physical realm.

  Despite Damien only pushing them so close in the metaphysical as to overlap with the physical realm, hours had still gone by.

  The second thing that caught his attention was the two men in powerful armor who stood outside the room. He immediately recognized these ones as a different breed from the common ones he'd seen at the gate and in the streets; serious-looking with the power to back up their words.

  On instinct, he spread out his senses throughout the whole building and a little bit farther and came up with a snap image of more of them spread out in the streets surrounding the inn. They were disguised as civilians, doing a good job of blending in, enough that he wouldn't have detected them if they hadn't been wrapped in an invisible shield of protection.

  These men had not come for a battle but they were prepared for one.

  Within seconds of their appearance, the door to the room was pushed open and the two men stepped inside.

  Executioners, Damien quickly identified. They had to be. Their black armors were forged from magically infused steel, and a top-tier lord-rank monster energy well in the shape of an orb was placed on the chest plate of the armor, powering the multiple enchantments Damien could sense on it.

  As he studied the men, so too were they studied in turn.

  The one who looked older spoke first. "Good day, gentlemen. I am Commander Ali, and I will need you to kindly identify yourselves."

  He spoke casually, but Damien saw the wariness in the look he directed at them.

  Cropped short brown hair combined with black eyes fixed on a face that was somewhere in his late thirties, though Damien knew he was probably far older than that. With Essence Wielders, it was sometimes hard to tell. He had the presence of a commander, through and through, and one who was used to issuing commands and expecting them to be carried out.

  His eyes narrowed when Damien didn't immediately move to answer.

  "He's the head of the city's Executioners' force," the spy, Salin, whispered to Damien, now sounding almost calm after confirming that he wasn't going to be killed.

  For a man who had been exposed to the darker side of humanity, his naivety was surprising. Not all people of Damien's caliber would have kept their word. The only difference between them and Damien was that he saw no reason to lie.

  The commander raised an eyebrow on seeing the unconcerned expressions on both their faces. The other one, though, did not take it well.

  "You will show respect when in the presence of the Lord Commander!" Blond hair and blue eyes glared at them in an obvious attempt at intimidation. Damien almost laughed.

  His amusement must have shown, because the young man—who was probably only a few years younger than him—flushed red with both embarrassment and anger. He reached for his weapon but froze when the commander smacked him hard on the head. "Control your emotions, boy, or you won't survive long as an executor."

  The boy's face flushed a deeper shade of red at the open rebuke. He drew back his reaching hands and stepped back, moving to stand an inch behind his commander.

  Commander Ali turned back to them. "Forgive my subordinate, esteemed guests. It isn't often as an Executor that we see people behave unconcerned in our presence. My assistant did not take it well."

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  He didn't sound offended at all; in fact, Damien could sense a hint of relief from the way he spoke.

  "You should get used to it, seeing as you're going to be getting a lot of those very soon," Damien said.

  The commander's face froze. "What do you mean by that?" Piercing eyes met Damien's and the man flinched.

  He stepped back. "Who are you?" His breath rattled with visible shock.

  The second executor could only look on, confused, gaze snapping between Damien and his commander, while Salin looked nervous.

  "Take me to your leader," Damien said, infusing his voice with a tone he rarely used.

  The authority must have been extreme because Salin moved forward, almost compelled. Damien drew him back by the scruff of his neck.

  "Not you. Him."

  The commander, who was already used to giving orders in such tones instead of taking them, blinked repeatedly, but eventually, he gave a sharp nod and then stepped aside for Damien to pass.

  Without much fanfare, Damien crossed the room's entrance and turned left as he started for the stairway leading down to the inn's bar, the executors and Salin following behind.

  Silence heralded his presence, and the same patrons who had been rowdy the previous night quieted down, staring at the ordinary-looking man trailed by two executors.

  Damien barely glanced at them as he made for the door. He turned to Salin when they finally stepped outside.

  "I have no more use for you, so you may go. Don't forget to pass along my warning."

  The man bobbed his head as he quickly retreated, making an obvious restraint not to run, though that didn't hold for long as he broke out into a sprint the moment he was out of sight.

  Damien almost rolled his eyes at that but instead turned to the Commander, whose confused expression kept growing.

  "Focus," Damien snapped his fingers. "I reckon you'll learn what all that was all about soon enough. Now, I suspect the answer, but I still would like to confirm. Why did you people come for me?"

  To his credit, the man quickly focused, and Damien smiled appreciatively. A leader who didn't let situations he couldn't control stall him was a good one.

  The man faced Damien.

  "We received a report from a soldier who saw you at a bar close to the gate."

  Damien nodded and then motioned for the man to continue.

  "He thought you strange and suspicious at first, but quelled his suspicion when you simply ordered drinks and engaged with the barman. From the report, it seemed you had said something to the barman that had made him exclaim in fear. Only when they approached the shaking man to inquire what had happened did they learn of what you did."

  As he spoke, the commander watched him, likely for a sign of admission, which he got a moment later when Damien smiled.

  "I never knew a simple drink would ruin my anonymity."

  "That wasn't a normal drink, just so you know. Even the Chosen would not have taken as much as you did without an adverse effect. Yet you did so without even an ounce of grimace or intoxication. It seemed the alcohol had no effect on you."

  Damien could see the questions in the man's eyes that he struggled to hold back.

  "I don't imagine many Lord realm wielders are walking around in this city. Why does an ordinary bar have alcohol capable of intoxicating your Chosen?"

  It made no sense. The barman's reaction gave Damien the intuition that they rarely, if ever, sold that brand of alcohol. They wouldn't have acted shocked if they did.

  "You must be new to the city, else you would know that although the Chosen is the only Peak-tier lord Realm wielder in the city, there are many more of lesser tiers who roam the city."

  Like him, he didn't add, but Damien could tell. The Commander was also a Lord Realm wielder.

  Damien grunted and gestured for the man to continue.

  "Your... feat, apparently, terrified the guards, and they immediately called in to report. Your threat level was scaled so high that the ordinary guards were advised to stay away from you. They were advised to simply watch, not interfere."

  Damien grunted again, his mind flashing to the young guard the previous day who'd flinched when he'd looked over. He remembered what Salin had said when Damien had approached him.

  They were now approaching the temple's gate, where Damien could sense hundreds of guards spread out across the entire street, mixed in with a significant amount of Executors.

  "We, the executors and the Chosen, were swiftly informed, and so we moved to intercept you. We were waiting for the night to come into its fullest potential when something happened in the room you had rented, our newest member—"

  He pointed to the younger executor who came with him.

  "—Opened the door and almost fell into the sea of darkness that had replaced everything. It was like everything inside had been swallowed by a tide of writhing darkness. We informed the Chosen, who quickly speculated on an explanation for the presence of the sea of darkness that now replaced the room. Two reasons came up; One, either you had brought a powerful construct that caused the anomaly, or two, you were the construct. Some advocated for us to search for you, but the Chosen ordered patience; whatever you did would eventually be reversed, and the room would go back to normal."

  The man looked at Damien. "May I ask what you did to cause such an effect?"

  Damien smiled grimly. "Let's hope you never have to find out," he said before stepping through the temple gate, the guards at the gate stepping aside at a signal from the executor.

  "Can I ask why you want to see the Chosen?" The younger executor finally spoke, the former brazenness now gone.

  Damien's reply was a smile, before he followed the new person who came to lead him to the Chosen.