I Only Summon Villainesses - Chapter 211: The Thieves’ Den

Chapter 211: The Thieves’ Den

As we walked deeper into the city, the mismatched buildings gave way to something more organized. Farms first, their crops growing in neat rows behind low stone walls. Then ranches where strange animals I couldn’t name watched us pass with too-intelligent eyes. And finally, stalls and shops crowding both sides of the road, their wares spilling onto the street itself.

The buildings we’d passed at the outskirts had been shops too, I realized. But there was a difference. Those outer stalls had been cramped, desperate things with merchants hawking from doorways. Here, the shops had proper storefronts. Glass windows. Signs that weren’t hand-painted. The further in we walked, the more legitimate everything looked.

’Location determines legitimacy, even in a criminal city.’

The farms and ranches were different still. No merchant haggled at their gates. Guards stood watch instead, their postures relaxed but their hands never far from their weapons. These weren’t struggling vendors. These were people who had clawed their way to the top of Recimiras and now owned enough to grow their own food, breed their own stock.

The first thing Levi had said to me as we journeyed deeper into the city was:

“Do not expect anyone to be kind or good to you. Do not expect justice. Cade, you’re in a criminal city. Every step that you take, take it fully aware of the worst that could happen.”

I’d taken those words to heart. My eyes kept moving, cataloging faces, noting exits, tracking the weight of weapons on hips.

We entered a small inn called Cueva de Ladrones. The building itself looked like it had been constructed from worn gold metal, tarnished and dull in places but still holding traces of its former shine. It was built to resemble a cathedral, though shorter, squatter. At the center of its facade sat a clock, but the longer hand was missing entirely. Broken? Or removed on purpose?

Below the clock, someone had spray-painted the name in bold, uneven letters: Cueva De Ladrones.

’Thieves’ Den. At least they’re honest about it.’

The inside of the inn was more astonishing than I’d expected.

Black and white marble covered the floor in a checkerboard pattern. Tables and chairs clustered in groups around the room, each set separated from the others by low wooden partitions. Private without being isolated. The center remained clear, a wide walkway leading to a bar at the back.

It looked almost like a venue for a wedding reception. If the wedding was between two crime lords.

A few patrons occupied the tables, speaking in low voices with accents that thickened their words into something I could barely follow. The same language I understood, but when they spoke quickly, I found myself losing track of individual words.

The bartender intercepted us before I could study them further.

“Evenin’, visitors. Welcome to Cueva De Ladrones.” He spread his arms wide, grinning. “What can I get ya? Some water? What type of drink? Booze?”

The accent made every word slide into the next. I tried to look past it, staying where I was while Levi stepped forward.

“We aren’t visitors. Where’s El Cuervo?”

The bartender was somewhere in his late thirties, with a gruff beard and cheeks that had gone thin. His eyes sat deep in their sockets, and something hungry lived behind them.

“The boss ain’t around. Can I hel—”

“Six gods, I’m tired of hearing you talk already.” Levi’s voice went flat. “Kindly give us three rooms.”

He glanced back at us, counting with his eyes, then turned to the bartender again.

“Yes. Three rooms.”

“That’ll be three gold.”

Levi frowned.

“It’s quite obvious you don’t know who I am around here.”

“Don’t know.” The bartender smiled, showing teeth that had yellowed at the edges. “Don’t care.”

Levi did not return the smile. He dropped three gold coins into the man’s palm without another word.

“Lead us.”

The bartender turned immediately.

“Follow.”

He led us into a hallway that ended at a small chamber. The door closed behind us, and he pulled a lever upward. The light flickered. The floor shuddered beneath my feet. Then came the unmistakable sensation of rising.

’Oh. An elevator.’

It was surprising and not surprising at the same time. Ealdrim didn’t fall as far behind as I might have expected. I’d already seen ships that rivaled anything from Earth, flying vessels, floating islands.

’Though I’ve never seen a floating island on Earth.’

The chamber ground to a halt with a distorted mechanical groan and a final shudder. The double doors slid open, revealing a hallway lined with numbered doors on both sides.

The bartender pulled out a ring of keys and began walking, humming to himself as he counted off the numbers. He stopped abruptly in front of one.

“Thirteen! This one’s free.”

Levi sighed and looked at Kassie and me.

“You two stay here.”

I hesitated, wanting to ask if it was really alright for us to retire first, but he spoke again before I could.

“It’s fine. Rest. There should be hot water. Have a proper bath and wash off all that sand.”

Now that he mentioned it, my body did feel strange.

’I haven’t bathed properly in three months.’

Especially since we’d arrived at Crystalis. I wasn’t sure I’d bathed at all since then.

Levi gave me a thumbs up and continued down the hall with Tristan, the bartender still humming as he led them to the next available room.

Kassie and I entered room thirteen.

The room surprised me almost as much as the reception hall had. Almost.

It was spacious enough. A single bed sat against one wall with a bedside cabinet beside it. A desk and chair had been placed beneath the window, positioned so someone could look down at the city while they worked.

But the floor was wooden planks that creaked and groaned with every step, threatening to give way entirely. And the bed…

They might as well have not included a bed at all. It was so flat that lying on it felt like lying directly on the frame.

The elegant reception hall. The marble floors. The private partitions.

All of it window dressing for rooms that couldn’t even manage a proper mattress.

’Welcome to the Thieves’ Den.’