"So," the vice captain said, his voice raised just enough to carry, "what do you want, goblin? Why are you here? You killed our men working in the forest twice, without provocation, and now you come to our front door with five of our own members trailing behind you."
He was trying to seize the narrative. Turn the crowd. Frame the Crown as the wronged party.
It played perfectly into Rune's hands.
Every public action Rune had taken over the past two weeks had been building toward a moment like this. Not by accident. Not by impulse.
He could have slipped through side streets when he ran half naked to the dungeon. Instead, he ran straight down main street every day. He could have dealt with Crown members quietly, without spectacle. Instead, he leaned into the rumors, into the name people had already given him.
The Crazy Immortal Goblin.
Part of it was to keep people at a distance. To make sure no one came asking for favors, alliances, or obligations. And part of it was for moments like this, when someone decided to push him anyway.
Rune tapped his foot lightly against the stone.
"What do I want," he repeated, voice calm. "What do I want."
He let the silence stretch.
"Well, you see," Rune said lightly, "your little symbol there. The jagged points. The Broken Crown. It has always annoyed me."
A ripple moved through the crowd.
"That is why I have been harassing your people."
Mick stiffened. That was the story he had been trying to sell. Rune admitting fault was the last thing he expected. He couldn't figure out why Rune was accepting the role of the villain here.
Rune continued without pause.
"So I consulted with some friends on what to do next, since killing you all was starting to get boring." He tilted his head slightly. "Fellow goblin friends."
The crowd immediately began to whisper.
Goblins rarely came into the city. They stayed in the outer provinces. They smelled. They had strange customs. And they did not like humans any more than humans liked them.
Rune openly calling himself a goblin, and claiming to have goblin allies, only fueled the rumors already surrounding him. If this was going to be the rumor about him. Run was going to use it to his advantage.
"And they told me," Rune went on, "that the next step was to find some of your recruits."
He gestured casually to the five standing behind him.
"And take them from you."
Mick stared, momentarily at a loss for words.
"So I did," Rune said. "I found them. I told them I would pay off their debts to you."
He paused, letting the implication settle.
"But after that, they would be mine."
"That is why I am here," Rune said evenly. "I am telling you they are no longer part of the Crown. Let them go, and I will go to the Ledger myself and transfer whatever they owe to your account."
Mick blinked. "That… that is all you want?" He turned sharply. "Someone check the books. Now. Tell me what they owe."
A man with glasses hurried forward, clutching a ledger to his chest. He flipped through pages, eyes darting.
"Those recruits, Vice Captain," he said quickly. "They paid off most of their debt already. Combined, they only owe about 5,000 merits."
Mick looked back at Rune, suspicion creeping in. "So you devised all of this just to annoy us by taking people who are worth nothing from our ranks?" His tone hardened. "Is this what you have to stoop to since you do not have a faction and cannot declare a faction war?"
Rune's head tilted slightly. "Faction war?" He looked genuinely curious. "What is that. Can I not just kill you whenever I want."
"You could," Mick said carefully. "But faction wars let you take what is ours. And we get the same right."
Rune's eyes lit up.
An idea clicked into place.
"Oh," he said slowly. "Then I will do just that."
He paused, then smiled wider.
"But if that is how it works, I want Carl."
Mick felt his stomach drop.
He had just handed Rune a path to forming his own faction, and now he was scrambling to figure out who exactly this Carl even was.
A familiar, mousey voice spoke up from behind a crate.
"Um… sirs. I am Carl."
Rune's face softened immediately. "Hey, bud. You do not have to come with me. But if you want, you would be free of all this, and I would never send you out to die."
A clerk leaned in close to Mick and whispered, "Carl is just fodder. He is not worth anything."
Mick closed his eyes for a brief moment, then nodded sharply. "Fine. If this ends it and gets you off our property, then so be it." He raised his voice. "Those 5 are officially removed from the Broken Crown. I expect the merits to be transferred by tomorrow. As for Carl, that choice is his."
Carl did not hesitate.
"I will go with Mister Goblin," he said quietly. "He is the only one who has ever treated me like a person."
A subtle change rippled through the group.
The Broken Crown symbol, burnt orange and jagged, began to fade from the fabric of their armor. Threads dulled. The mark unraveled until nothing remained.
Rune nodded once. "Alright. Thanks for your time."
He turned and walked back toward the gates, his voice carrying as he passed through, loud enough for the crowd to hear.
"I will be seeing all of you later."
Then he paused, just long enough to add, almost casually, "You really should have attacked me. This crowd, all these normal citizens, they already think you are terrible people. Trying to act righteous here just made you look weak."
Mick flinched.
Anger flashed across his face, but it was useless now. Rune was already beyond the gates, disappearing into the mass of onlookers with six former Crown members following behind him.
The manor stood silent.
And the crowd did not forget what they had seen.
"So, Carl, how do you make a faction?"