The undercrust reminds Irmgard of her prison- with a few exceptions. Those being the presence of women and the ability to leave. Otherwise, much of it is like the prison city she ran.

  “Are you sure we find quality supplies here?” Emma asks nervously. She eyes several people passing by, all armed and looking like they are itg for a fight.

  “I share Emma’s se. It may be better to search above ground,” Auranta adds.

  Irmgard g the two women, shakes her head, and then starts silently walking.

  Emma and Auranta share a look before following.

  Running a city, even a prison city, has taught Irmgard that you will always find a separation of wealth and peten accordao where the wealth is trated. In the case of the undercrust, Irgmard already tell that it's going to be located he bottom of the city, where the fighting rings are located.

  To the surprise of both Emma and Auranta, their dest is left ued. Normally, three girls would be found as easy prey for a variety of reasons. Instead, Irmgards presence alone is that of a warden ready to rip a prisoner apart should they take even the slightest step out of line. Her back is straight, eyes are focused, and has on the hilt of her sword. The sheer fidence of her presence is a testament to not only skill, but the willio use said skill in the most violent ossible.

  Most prisoners uand this- those who don’t. Well, the weak generally don’t survive.

  Arriving at the bottom, the girls are met with fshing runic lights, yelling, screaming, and the sound of bat. Booths and stores stand ready with [Guards] as all manner of items lihe shelves from ons, armor, food, and objects of lust. Irmgard looks around for a moment until her eyes nd on a rger shop selling a variety of goods.

  “This way.” She orders. On her arrival, the [Shopkeeper] quickly grins as whatever skill he has warns him of a possibly rge purchase.

  “Ladies, wele to Orman’s Crusted Goods. I’m Orman. What I get for you all?”

  “My [Ruh] requires a rge quantity of quality materials for runeing for a reasonable price. you provide?” Irmgard asks.

  Orman smiles. “Depends on the quantity and what exactly you’re looking for.”

  Irmgard extends a hand to Emma. Emma, realizing what she wants, retrieves a paper from her bag and hands it to the [First Mate].

  “Are you capable of supplying these materials?”

  Orman accepts the paper. He adjusts his gsses, begins reading, and then frowns. “This is quite a bit. I have these supplies ready in a week's time if you’re willing to wait- otherwise I offer a framediately.”

  “We’ll take what you have on hand and order the rest in a week if that’s acceptable.”

  “Perfectly. Just know that I will have to charge you a fee on at of getting the supplies.”

  Before Irmgard ahe sound of yelling attracts her attention. Turning, she finds an iing se involving a group of armed men wearing lion furs and Cillian. The leader of the men is yelling at Cillian, while the Scot is unbothered and sipping a mug.

  “Orman, please wait a moment.” Irgmard leaves the ter and walks to the se with Auranta and Emma at her heels.

  “Cillian, what’s happening here?” She asks on approach.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the leader of the armed group of men asks.

  A quice at the group tells Irmgard that these me weak. But she also tell that they aren’t at the level of someone like Boriss. Irmgard also takes a g hes standing behind Cillian- which she argues is the reason why Cillian is so calm right now.

  “I’m the [First Mate] of the crewman you are talking to. Is there a problem?”

  “Yea, there is. This shrimp’s beeing in all the rounds.”

  “I’m not cheating! I’m making logical bets that pay off.”

  “You ’t win seven rounds in a row! The fighters are the same level!”

  “Fuck their level,” Cillian swishes his mug. “I’m makis on their ons, muscle distribution, stance, and all other manner of quality. I’ve watched enough idiots bashing each other in a ring to predict who is the better fighter.”

  “That’s a fug lie!” the man snarls.

  “Do you have proof?” Imrgard asks.

  “Proof? My proof is in my fug axe if I don’t get my money back.”

  “I’m not giving anything back. I won it fair and square.”

  The man growls and grabs the axe at his hip. But before he pull it out, Irmgards cutss uhes and stops at his neck as though she’d expected such a rea.

  “I asked for proof.” She says.

  “HEY! ALL FIGHTING IN THE UNDERCRUST IS TO BE DONE IN THE RING?” A fully armed and armored man with a shield and sword insignia on his chest arrives with a grimace.

  A gnce is all it takes fard to realize that the man that just arrived is on a whole other level of capability- enough so that the men she’s dealing with have grown nervous.

  The armored man's gaze falls ards bde. “Sheathe your on,” He orders.

  Irmgard frowns, but plies.

  “Good. Now, what's happening here?”

  Lion-furred man points at Cillian. “This guy predicted and won seven fights in a row. He must be cheating.”

  “They were easy predis!” Cillian argues. “It’s not my fault you put so much emphasis on levels and css instead of actual experience, equipment, and skill.”

  “Lies. Even the best [Gamblers] couldn't predict seven straight fights.”

  The armored man shakes his head. “There is not enough proof, so I ot allow this fight to tinue.”

  The lion-furred guy frowns. He retrieves a bag of s from his belt and raises it forward. “I ask for the right of bat to retrieve all winnings in equal bat.”

  The armored man raises an eyebrow at the request. After long moments of silence, he finally nods. “I will grant this request.”

  The armored man turns to Cillian, “Will you fight or will you use a proxy?”

  Cilian blinks. “What's the right of bat?”

  “A way for warriors to deal with differences in the ring. If you do not accept, you must forfeit your winnings. If you do accept, then you must fight. If you win the fight, then your winnings will be doubled.”

  “You said I use a proxy?”

  “As the accused, you have that right.”

  Cillian grins. “I accept. hes here will be my proxy.”

  The armored man calmly looks at hes, and then shakes his head. “Proxies must match the species of either batant to keep bat fair.”

  Irmgard sighs. She steps forward. “I’ll be the proxy.”

  __________________________________________________________________

  After our successful meeting with the leader of the Fmingos, me and Gino make our way deeper into the city. Which, surprisingly, involves going further down into its depths. As we travel deeper, the general quality of goods, people, levels, ah improve- to the point that I see actual [Nobles] wandering around.

  “Why is the bottom of this pce wealthier thaop?” I ask. “I’d expect it to be the opposite, where the poor and weak live at the bottom away fr eyes.”

  Gino tinues walking and desding. He raises a hand and points further down. “The fighting rings and coliseums are at the bottom of the undercrust for foundational support. High level fighters make a lot of money but urdier Arenas. The bottom of the undercrust has the spad support to allow these fights to happen.”

  I nod to his expnation. We tinue heading deeper and deeper until I start seeing some heavily armed and armored [Guards] with levels quite a bit higher than mine. “Gino, those [Guards] with the Shield and Sword crest on their chest. Who are they?”

  “Them? They are part of the Warriangs. They keep the pea the lower undercrust.”

  “That's one of the majangs, right? They’re pretty strong.”

  “The three majangs trol the bottom of the undercrust. The Warrior’s deal with prote and are posed solely of fdiators].”

  “What about the other two?”

  “The Crusts are in charge of trade and the movement of mohe Royals are in charge of ws and all the bat that happens down there. Holy, they’re barely antagonistic to each other uhe minangs which stantly have feuds.”

  “I’m guessing we’re going to deal with the Crusts in regards to bets, right?”

  Gino nods. “Yea. They accept bets from both Gdius and Undercrust.”

  “Good. We’ll put all of that money into Boriss winning.”

  “Sure.”

  When we finally reach the bottom, I see a plump body holding a bottle and leaning over a railing. “Gino,” I tap my mounts ned point a paw, “take me to the plump one.” I order and he obliges.

  “Cillian, o see you’re here.”

  Cillian gnces and grins. He wiggles his bottle, “[Captain], e here. I’m about to make a lot of .”

  I hop off Gino’s shoulder and nd on the railing of the arena. Looking into the Arena, I find Irmgard with the rest of my crew on one side and a guy wearing a lion-fur cloak surrounded by men wearing the same.

  “What's happening here?” I ask.

  “Irmgard is going to fight in the arena.” Cillian expins.

  “Why?”

  “It’s… plicated. Long story short, I won multiple bets in a row and was accused of cheating. Nard fights to prove my innoce.”

  “Right… you do realize that she might lose, right?” I ask.

  “Yea, but she’s more skilled. Her ce to win is higher.”

  I shake my head at the Scot and take a closer look at her oppo.

  Gorbi Drevon: Level 34 [Gang Captain]

  The guy has levels on her by a det amount on top of being quite fit. He has two hand-axes at his side, so he probably fights with both of them. sidering the scars on his body, he has plenty of experien regards to bat.

  “Gino, what you tell me about that guy's gang?” I point a paw at Gorbi.

  “He’s part of the Lion Gang. They’re a gang of arena fighters. They’re not as good as [Gdiators], but they also aren't weak either.

  “I see.”

  If memory serves, Irmgard trained heavily in hema with a specialty in feng. sidering she only wields a cutss, her ces might not be as high as Cillian expects.

  “Gino, take my money and buy a rapier or some other long-light pierg on. Then go to the woman who is about to fight and give it to her alongside the dagger hidden in your left leg.”

  “How do you-”

  “Don’t talk, just do. Mention my name.”

  “O-ok.” Gino rushes off as I return my attention back to the arena.”

  “I don’t think she’s going to ,” Cillian expins.

  “Know something I don’t?” I ask the scot.

  He nods and points at Gorbi. “See his axes?”

  “Yea,” I nod.

  “Look at the bded edges.”

  Blinking, I focus on the bde.

  “It’s chipped!”

  Cillian takes a gulp of his beverage and grins. “Aye. Truly good fighters always keep their ons well maintained. Irmgard and Boriss both alolish and sharpen their ons. Even me,” he taps the revolver at his hip, “I keep this baby well oiled and maintained.”

  I frown. “I should have noticed that myself.”

  Cillian shrugs. “I like ons and guns. It’s generally the first thing I notice before I meet a person. Anyway, the rapier and dagger is a good way to reduce risk.”

  I nod and tinue looking down, hoping Gino arrives on time.