The market spilled into a second hall, smaller than the seastone bazaar but no less crowded. Instead of crystals and powders, the walls here were hung with faces.

  Rows upon rows of masks, gleaming under ntern light, each one staring back at Lea with hollow eyes.

  She slowed, boots clicking softly against the marble, her breath catching in her chest. So many...

  On one rack, cquer masks shone in bright colors, painted with bold strokes of joy, anger, sorrow, and ughter. Festival masks.

  "Too fshy. I'd stand out too much...", she muttered.

  Further down, the atmosphere shifted. Heavy wooden masks carved into solemn visages, their surfaces etched with glowing sigils, stared down at her.

  Priestly masks, weighty with divine resonance. The air grew heavy here, thick with reverence. Lea slowed but kept her distance... not mine to wear, not anymore.

  And then, unsettling shapes appeared. Masks twisted into monstrous visages, mouths open in painted screams, jagged teeth gleaming with silver. Some grotesque, some nightmarish. And yet this aisle was crowded... merchants haggling, not just Pathstriders but also nobles paying full price, even commoners clutching them eagerly.

  Creepy... but somehow very popur... she thought, watching one woman leave smiling behind a mask that looked like a frozen howl.

  Power in fear, I guess.

  She pushed forward, weaving through the crowd until something stopped her dead in her tracks.

  At the far end of a dim stall, resting under a single ntern, was a mask unlike any other.

  It was smooth, pale, featureless yet alive. Across its bnk surface, dark inks swirled and twisted constantly, like liquid thought. Shapes emerged and colpsed: jagged lines, spirals, shadows of things not quite seen. A living Rorschach test, never the same twice.

  Lea's yellow eyes widened. She stepped closer, heart quickening. The shifting ink almost seemed to respond to her gaze, curling into sharp ridges, then soft, flowing arcs. She couldn't look away.

  The vendor leaned forward, his fingers stained with ink, his voice quiet but deliberate, "Ah. That one calls to you, doesn't it?"

  Lea's throat felt dry, "What does it do?"

  "It grants the strength of a Second Step Pathstrider of Illusion.", the man said, each word deliberate, "With it, you could cloud eyes, twist perception, weave deception as if you had walked that Path yourself."

  Her pulse thudded in her ears. Second Step... of another Path. Just like that.

  "And the price?", she asked, wary of some kind of trick.

  "Two thousand Cee.", the vendor replied smoothly.

  Lea's jaw dropped.

  "Two... thousand?! That's insane!!" She threw up her hands in shock, "I could buy crates of seastone dust for that, enough to make talismans for years!!"

  The vendor smiled faintly, unbothered, "Dust fuels tools. This mask makes you the tool. Do you understand the difference?"

  Lea froze, biting her lip. She did understand. The ink shifted again on the mask, forming sharp wings, then melting back into formless swirls. It was like it was waiting, testing her resolve.

  She clenched her fists, then exhaled slowly, "Two thousand..."

  Her mind fshed back to the deal. The Fourth Step of Malediction, she had sold. The heavy weight of coin and credit that had come with it. She wasn't poor at all. She had reserves tucked safely into her passcard, untouched, waiting for something exactly like this.

  Lea's lips curved into a grin, "I can afford it."

  The vendor's eyebrows rose.

  She pulled out her passcard, sliding it across the stall, "I'll take it."

  The man bowed slightly, his grin sharp. He tapped the card against his register, and the rune-gss shimmered [-2000 Cee].

  The mask was lifted carefully from its stand, the inks rippling faster as if excited. The vendor set it gently into Lea's hands.

  She held it, staring into the swirl. Her reflection fractured and dissolved across its surface. The shifting patterns almost seemed to whisper promises.

  Her yellow eyes gleamed.

  "Second Step of Illusion...", she whispered, a thrill racing through her chest.

  As she strapped the mask to her satchel, she knew this wasn't just a purchase. It was an investment. A new trick, a new path. Something Auger wouldn't see coming.

  Lea left the mask market with her satchel heavier in ways that weren't physical.

  The swirling mask pressed against her side, whispering in shifting ink, promising illusions she had yet to wield. Still, another thought tugged at her... if she was going to fight differently, she couldn't look the same as before.

  The market streets curved into a brighter district where brass gears turned above storefronts and pipes puffed white steam into the air.

  A cluster of carriages hissed as their engines cooled, and the crowd bustled in tailored coats and boots with polished metal trim.

  That store looks pretty popur... Lea thought, her eyes scanning the rows of clothing shops.

  She spotted one in particur, its windows showcasing mannequins dressed in waistcoats, corseted jackets, yered skirts, and gear-buckled belts.

  The mannequins weren't static either; they ticked and shifted, clockwork inside them clicking softly. A sign above the door glimmered faintly with wards.

  Not just clothes... Pathstrider gear.

  Lea smirked, "Popur usually means good."

  She pushed inside.

  The shop smelled faintly of oil and leather, with a strange undertone of ozone that hinted at enchantments.

  The racks held fitted trousers, eborate jackets with brass buttons, and flowing coats stitched with copper threading but every piece glowed faintly under her yellow gaze.

  Woven into the fabric were glyphs, subtle as stitching, designed to offer resistance against curses, fmes, and stray bdes.

  It didn't take long before an attendant, a young woman in a high-colred blouse with a mechanical brooch ticking softly at her neck, approached.

  "First time here? Would you like to try a few of our mystical-fiber pieces? They're designed for Pathstriders, specifically those who can't afford to get hit but can't always avoid it either."

  Lea raised an eyebrow, finding that sounds appealing.

  "Sounds like you're describing me perfectly. Show me what sells."

  Minutes ter, she stood in a changing room, curtain drawn, trying on the first outfit: a tailored brown jacket with bronze trimming, paired with bck fitted trousers and high boots. The fabric hugged her form snugly, light but undeniably sturdy. A faint pulse of energy shimmered across the sleeves when she flexed her arm.

  "Sharp... almost noble...", she muttered, lips tugging into a grin as she sees her fancy new look.

  Next, a darker set: a charcoal corset jacket with copper buttons, yered with a short half-cloak. Lea tilted her head at her reflection, yellow eyes glinting.

  "Edgy. I like it.", The cloak shimmered faintly.

  And the attendant expined, "It will absorb the first strike of a magical projectile, and it can recharge over time."

  Finally, she tried on a more practical look: a cream blouse under a steel-blue vest, with straps and buckles across the waist, paired with a gear-embzoned skirt that allowed free movement. It felt light, breathable, but when she tapped the fabric, it rang faintly like tempered gss. Sleek, banced, ready for combat.

  Lea rested her hands on her hips, appraising herself, "This one feels like mine."

  The attendant returned with a ledger, "Those three are our most requested ensembles. Each set is woven with defensive runes, nothing heavy, but enough to keep a Pathstrider standing when they should've fallen. If you'd like all of them, I can prepare the bill."

  Lea tapped her passcard against the register stone without hesitation. The rune-gss flickered, tallying the sum: -5,630 Cee.

  Her eyebrow twitched.

  "Five thousand... six hundred... for clothes?", she exhaled, half-exasperated, half-amused, "Guess being fashionable and alive in Lacrosa doesn't come cheap."

  Still, as she packed the outfits neatly into her satchel beside the mask, her grin returned. Between new tricks, sharper looks, and subtle defenses woven into her attire, she was no longer just a wandering Pathstrider fumbling through fights.

  She was beginning to look the part of someone who could stand out.

  Stepping back into the bustle of Lacrosa, Lea pulled her hood slightly lower, but her yellow eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction.

  New tools. New look. Tomorrow, I won't be the same Lea.

  =0=0=

  After days of lying in bed, Jim was ready to go out and test his powers. Being a Trailbzer of the Fourth Step of Divinity, he can feel energy crackling inside him.

  He was at the old track he set up to test his powers. First were the red and blue strings of fate and destiny, Lady Keter told him not to try and touch them... but he was curious...

  So he reached out to a red string connected to a tree... and plucked it lightly, then the tree colpsed, falling over in an instant and startled the denizens of the forest, making them all run away. Jim was not even sure what he did, but he realized why Lady Keter told him not to touch them...

  "Well... I guess I need to test my speed...", he turned around, making sure the Oath Keeper wasn't around...

  Jim steadied himself, feet digging into the dirt of the track. The moment he inhaled and let the power loose, the air warped around him— yellow and bck sparks erupting like firecrackers across his arms and legs.

  His heart pounded, his vision sharpened, and then—

  He moved.

  The ground split behind him, dirt and stone flung into the air as if an explosion had gone off.

  The trees on either side of the path bent violently from the force of his passing.

  His surroundings blurred into streaks of green, brown, and blue. His body screamed at the sudden acceleration, but the energy carried him forward, faster, faster, faster—

  Uncontrolble.

  His eyes widened as the ndscape shifted in the blink of an eye.

  The forests of the New World vanished, repced by rushing pins, then jagged cliffs, then rolling seas. The smell of saltwater filled his nose for an instant before it was gone.

  He realized too te that he had crossed the ocean itself, the spray of waves and the cries of startled seabirds lingering only in fragments of memory as the world tore by.

  Jim gritted his teeth; every nerve lit up with pain, but he couldn't stop.

  Every step cracked the ground, every lunge sent shockwaves into the air.

  Vilges and mountains fshed past like fleeting images, people pointing at the thunderous blur that tore through their fields.

  And then— he stumbled.

  His foot caught the edge of a stone outcropping, the force of his momentum sending him tumbling violently into the dirt. He rolled, bounced, and finally smmed into the side of a hill, the impact shattering rock and leaving a smoking crater in his wake.

  Jim y there, chest heaving, electricity still sparking faintly across his body. His clothes were scorched, his arms shaking, but his eyes were wide open with disbelief.

  He sat up slowly, scanning the horizon. No longer the wild forests of the New World. No. These were the rolling hills of the main continent. He had crossed the world in mere moments.

  "Holy... shit...", Jim muttered, breathless, a wild grin breaking across his face despite the pain, "That... that was the coolest thing I've ever done."

  But then his grin faltered slightly, the memory of the colpsed tree and the screaming energy in his veins pulling at his mind.

  "So this... is the Fourth Step...", he whispered to himself, staring at his trembling hands. "Unstoppable... uncontrolble."

  The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

  But then, a golden bde was pointed at him. Feeling radiant hostility, he turned around and...

  There was a woman in ornate clothing, beautiful bloody red hair with her bang covering her golden eyes. She wields a golden sword of Judgement.

  "Who are you and how dare you come to the sacred throne of Lady Pain?", her voice dripped with venom, ready to kill him in an instant.

  He immediately realized he had crossed paths with a Sixth Step Pathstrider of Madness, which means... this is a holy site of the Goddess of Madness, the orthodox goddess of the Church of Sacrifice. At the very least an Archbishop...

  Even with divinity crackling through his veins, even with the raw thrill of the Fourth Step, he knew. He couldn't win.

  Not here.

  Not against that.

  "Shit."

  That single word hissed through his teeth before he bolted.

  The moment he moved, the ground detonated beneath his feet, yellow and bck lightning bursting like a storm as his form blurred into nothing but a streak.

  The golden bde sshed through where he had been standing, the shockwave carving a trench into the earth.

  Jim didn't look back.

  The forest whipped past him in streaks of color, his lungs burning, his legs pumping faster than thought. Every instinct screamed to keep running.

  The oppressive aura of the woman lingered at his back, like a noose tightening, but she did not pursue. Perhaps she didn't need to. Perhaps this was just a warning.

  Only when the sacred site's presence faded did Jim dare slow down, skidding violently across a barren ridge, sparks spilling from his heels. His chest heaved, sweat dripping from his brow, his arms shaking with adrenaline.

  He pressed a trembling hand to his forehead, breathless, his grin wild with equal parts fear and exhiration.

  "A Sixth Step Pathstrider... by the wandering Light Seeker... I'd be dead meat if I stayed another second."

  He stared down at his hands, still trembling from the raw divine current coursing through them. Fourth Step... and already he was brushing shoulders with powers he had no business crossing.

  Jim ughed breathlessly, a sharp, manic sound.

  "Guess Lady Keter wasn't kidding about me being reckless..."

  His ughter faded, his expression hardening as he looked back toward where the golden light had burned in his memory.

  "I need more control... more training... or next time I won't be fast enough to run away."

  The sparks faded from his skin, leaving him exhausted and scorched, but alive.

  For now.

  Rhaps