The group reached the heart of Dawncrest, where the mayor’s mansion loomed. The stark contrast between the lavish estate and the crumbling town was almost grotesque. The marble walls gleamed unnaturally, polished to perfection, and the iron gates bore intricate designs that seemed designed to flaunt the mayor’s wealth.

  Guards patrolled the perimeter with military precision. Unlike the lazy, disorganized guards at the gates, these men moved with discipline. Their armor was well-maintained, and their eyes were sharp, scanning for any hint of trouble.

  “Professional mercenaries,” Neres observed, his voice low. “Not the usual thugs we’ve seen around town.”

  “They don’t look like locals,” Midas added. “Hired muscle, probably from outside the region.”

  “What is the mayor’s level?” Neres enquired.

  Willam, who had accompanied them, spoke in a hushed tone, “Level 9, at least it was that the last time I identified him.”

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  Boreas’s expression darkened. “Which raises the question—how is a level 9 mayor paying for this kind of protection?”

  Willam replied, “That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out. The mayor’s income from taxes shouldn’t be enough to fund all this.”

  Mori’s gaze swept over the mansion. “He’s getting money from somewhere else. Or someone else.”

  The group stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over them.

  “We’ll need to gather more intel before we make a move,” Midas said. “This isn’t just about the mayor anymore. There’s a bigger game at play here.”

  The group spent the next few hours moving through Dawncrest, careful to avoid drawing attention. Neres used his newfound speed and silence to slip past guards and eavesdrop on conversations. Mori kept to the rooftops, her bow ready to cover him if needed.

  At one point, Neres returned with news. “The caravans we saw earlier? They’re headed to an old outpost in the foothills. The guards were talking about a big shipment going out tonight.”

  Midas frowned. “An outpost? What’s there?”

  “Not much,” Willam replied. “It’s an abandoned garrison from the old wars. If they’re using it, it’s probably as a storage or trade hub.”

  “Which means that’s where we strike,” Boreas said firmly.

  Midas nodded. “But we’ll need to be quick. If the mayor gets wind of us, he’ll tighten security.”