JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 52

Bureaucracy

Jane stepped cautiously into the wide plaza, her eyes sweeping across the space. It wasn’t fully enclosed, as she’d first assumed. Another road intersected the one she’d taken, cutting cleanly through the half-domed plaza at a perpendicular angle. From a distance, it appeared completely unobstructed—an open channel through the stone.

She moved toward the massive doors ahead. Towering above her, etched high into the rock, was a worn symbol—stacked rectangles growing narrower as they rose, wide at the base, tapering toward the top. I don’t remember seeing that at any Dirthian bank branches… She made a mental note and kept walking.

Then something else caught her eye—a smaller door, tucked to the right of the grand entrance. It was barely her height and utterly plain, the stark opposite of the monumental gates beside it. No markings, no handle—just a narrow, covered slot near the top. If not for the faint frame outlining it, she might not have recognized it as a door at all.

Footsteps echoed behind her, and she turned. Demons poured into the plaza, quickly flooding the space despite its size. Definitely not enough room for everyone… 

A pulse of quiet confidence surged through her. Even without the sheer weight of her Legendary class or sky-high Luck, she had the strongest fighting force on the continent—and, more importantly, one made up of loyal friends and allies. This time, I won’t be caught off guard. Her jaw tightened. Pogg, you’re going down. She just had to reach him—and the Dirthians were the key.

“So… this is Integra,” came a curious voice from behind. “Or at least, the entrance to it.”

Jane turned to see Melindra approaching slowly, her gaze fixed on the towering doors.

“Looks like it,” Jane replied, lifting her chin. Overhead, several Darkwing Skimmers circled, banking through the opening in the dome above. Her eyes tracked the sky for a moment, then dropped to the rear of the crowd—there, Veralaktus glided forward with practiced grace.

“Veralaktus,” Jane called out, her voice firm. “Have the demons spread out and secure the area. I don’t know if there’s anything hostile nearby, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

With a slight bow, she responded, “Very well.”

Jane turned her attention back to the entrance carved into the mountainside. If I have to smash my way in, I will. But hopefully it doesn’t come to that. There were no guards, no greeters—no sign of any Dirthians at all. Frowning, she approached the towering doors. Rectangular, etched with unfamiliar symbology—sharp angles, overlapping patterns, all hard lines and simple shapes. No curves, no flourishes. It wasn’t the fractal, System-born designs she often saw tied to her skills. But the faint shimmer across the surface of the doors was unmistakable: Arcanite.

“Hey, open up!” she shouted, pounding her fist against the door. It was like hitting a cliff face. No response.

“Guess that’s to be expected… Where’s the doorbell?” Her eyes drifted to the smaller door to the side—barely human-sized, smooth and featureless, save for a small slot near the top, currently covered.

She stepped over and gave it a few solid knocks.

“Hello? Anyone in there? Is this the Dirthian city?” Nothing.

Hands on her hips, Jane took a step back. “ Hmph. What the heck is this…” She turned to shout over her shoulder. “Hey Melindra, was there any info about—”

Clank.

The slot slid open.

“The bank is closed. Business hours are Mondays, two to six,” a gruff, tinny voice declared flatly.

Clank. It slammed shut again.

Jane blinked. Slowly turned. “…Mondays?!”

She lunged forward and pounded on the door. “Hey! Hold on a second! I need to talk to someone in there!”

No reply.

You’ve got to be kidding me…

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. “Listen, if you don’t—”

Clank.

“Hey, idiot. The bank is closed. Got it?”

Idiot?! Jane tried to remain collected. She leaned forward to peer through the slot, but it was pitch black. “Well, when does it open?”

“I told you already. Today’s Tuesday. Bank opens Monday. That clear enough for you? Come back in six days.”

Clank.

“Six days? Come back in six days?! I’ve got a demon army out here! I can’t wait six days! I need to get in there now! You better open this door or I’ll bust it down myself!”

Clank.

“Give it your best shot.”

Jane took a step back, eyes widening. “My best shot? Oh, you don’t want to see my best shot. I’ll show you my best shot—just you wait—”

Before she could go further, Melindra stepped in smoothly, voice calm and clipped. “Excuse me, sir. Is there a manager we might speak to? I’m a customer at one of your Arcadian branches, and I have… some concerns about my holdings.”

There was a pause. Then a long, resigned sigh.

“…Just a moment.”

Clank.

Melindra leaned in and whispered, “The Dirthians take protocol very seriously. If you want to get anywhere, you have to work within their system. Just give it a minute. My account is quite old—it might give us an opening.”

Jane crossed her arms with a sharp huff, shaking her head. “This is ridiculous…”

A few moments later, the slot slid open again. “This is Grumhold,” came a different gruff voice. “The bank is closed. If you have any complaints, you’ll need to file them during regular operating hours.”

Jane opened her mouth, but Melindra lifted a hand to stop her. “I’m sorry, but that simply won’t do. I’m a Gold Class customer, and I demand to speak with an account manager immediately.”

“…Gold Class?” The voice sounded suddenly less sure of itself. “Account name?”

“Melindra Stark.”

This time, the slot didn’t immediately close. Jane leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was behind it, but only caught the sound of muffled voices.

“…Didn’t think there were any Gold Class customers near the capital.”

“There aren’t. Not this century, anyway. Better escalate it to Mithrander, just in case.”

Jane slowly extended a finger toward the slot, thinking maybe she could wedge it open, but before she could make contact, another voice rang out.

“Just a moment, please.”

Clank. The slot slammed shut again.

Jane turned to Melindra, brow raised. “You know, I have a Dirthian account too. I’ve never heard of anything called Gold Class.”

Melindra gave a small shrug. “It took me almost two hundred years to earn it. I wouldn’t take it personally. They don’t even introduce the system until you’ve been a customer for at least twenty.”

Before Jane could respond, Dyle approached from the rear of the plaza. “What’s going on? Do we have a way inside?”

Jane sighed. “Not yet. But hopefully soon.” Her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m this close to smashing a hole through this mountain, Arcanite doors or not.”

Dyle raised an eyebrow. “Right. Well, I’ve never known the Dirthians to be lax with security. If you’re hoping to use their tunnels to get home, maybe don’t antagonize them unnecessarily.”

Jane flushed slightly and looked away. “Yeah, yeah… I guess.”

With nothing left to do but wait, she exhaled and brought up her stats. The journey south and the constant battles had definitely earned her more than a few levels.

Jane King (Level 144)

Human

Class: Judicator (Legendary)

Strength: 286

Agility: 285

Constitution: 286

Intelligence: 285

Wisdom: 692

Luck: 632

Health: 2860/2860

Mana: 6920/6920

Skills

Piercing Gaze (Rare)

Gavel of Repentance (Epic)

Lashings of Penance (Epic)

Mantle of Retribution (Epic)

Minor Law (Epic)

Pinpoint Judgment (Epic)

Regional Arbiter (Epic)

The Drawn Veil (Epic)

The Gray Inquisition (Epic)

Tithe of Mana (Epic)

Voice of Truth (Epic)

Executioner (Legendary)

Mandate of the Celestial Court (Legendary)

Temporary Skills

Place Birthing Pit (x9)

Place Unboreal Citadel (x1)

 Unfortunately the recent battle didn't appear to have given her any new skills or evolutions. Just as she reached the end of her stat screen, the low grind of stone caught Jane’s attention. Her head snapped up. The small door was slowly sliding open.

From the shadowed interior, a stocky dwarf emerged, blinking as he squinted into the light. He took a moment to survey the assembled crowd—demons, humans, and even a few dragonkin—then gave a long, weary sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Hmph. Well, you can’t all come in,” he grumbled. “Melindra, was it? You can bring one assistant. That’s it.”

Jane clenched her jaw, fingers twitching with the urge to toss him into the Gray Inquisition then and there. But… Dyle is probably right. As long as they got inside, that was what mattered. Just let Melindra do the talking—for now.

Still, she narrowed her eyes and triggered Piercing Gaze all the same.

Erlund (Level 41)

Dwarf

Class: Appraiser (Uncommon)

Strength: 9

Agility: 5

Constitution: 15

Intelligence: 50

Delving: 31

Health: 150/150

Fun Fact:

Erlund only has two wishes in life—a blissful night’s sleep and a slow but predictable rise through the ranks at work. Sadly, both remain elusive. As for the least enjoyable part of his job? Hard to say—it’s probably every part. Though if he had to choose, dealing with surface dwellers would top the list. Loud, dirty, and endlessly whining. Service with a smile? Not a chance.

Melindra nodded and gestured toward Jane. “That’s acceptable. I’ll bring this young woman with me.”

Erlund gave a noncommittal shrug and waved them toward the entrance.

As they stepped inside, Jane immediately recognized the layout—nearly identical to the other Dirthian branches she’d visited, just scaled down. A single teller window sat high in the wall, empty. Another pair of blank stone doors loomed to the right. The whole place felt like a stripped-down mirror of the Grandia and Dawnskeep locations. One detail stood out: the room extended off to the right, the left side was blocked by a solid stone wall, cutting off access to whatever the large gates outside might have led to.

Without a word, the dwarf approached the secondary doors. They slowly slid open, revealing a dark chamber. He stepped in and gestured for them to follow.

Same turnstile system as before, Jane assumed.

Once they were inside, the doors slid shut behind them, plunging the space into darkness. Then, as expected, the far wall slid open. The dwarf stepped forward.

“Follow me,” he said flatly. “We have a special receiving room for Gold members—though it hasn’t been used in quite some time.”

They walked through a twisting maze of tunnels. Jane found them far less intimidating now, her Luck quietly assuring her they wouldn’t get lost no matter what happened. She dragged her fingers along the wall as they moved—just stone, nothing enchanted or weird. The dwarf never once glanced back, his disinterest palpable.

Eventually, he stopped at what appeared to be just another blank wall. Placing his hand against it, a rectangular section recessed with a hiss, revealing a hidden doorway. He gestured them through.

Jane followed Melindra inside—and stopped short.

The room beyond was lavish to say the least. The ceilings soared at least twelve feet high. Luxurious sofas circled a polished oak desk, and the walls were adorned with elegant, if sooty, artwork. Jane let out a low whistle—then immediately started coughing as she inhaled a mouthful of dust.

“Your account manager is on his way,” the dwarf said. “Would you like any… refreshments while you wait?”

Melindra shook her head. “No, that will be all. Thank you.”

With a half-hearted nod, the dwarf stifled a yawn and exited, the stone door sealing behind him.

“We’re working our way up the chain,” Melindra said once they were alone. “These are all lower management types at best. A Gold Class account manager may be able to provide more… useful assistance.”

“I hope so,” Jane muttered, wandering over to a light embedded in the wall behind a pane of glass. She peered inside, brow furrowing. Something inside pulsed with a steady orange glow. What's powering it? There were several more just like it spaced evenly along the room—strange, functional-looking things that gave off no heat.

Moving on, she glanced at the paintings hanging on the walls. All of them were gaudy renditions of treasure—piles of gold, oversized gems, vaults overflowing with riches. “The Dirthians are kind of… weird, aren’t they?”

Melindra, seated elegantly on one of the sofas, looked over. “Oh? How so?”

“Well, I mean—why are they even in the banking business? What do they get out of it? Why the obsession with gold and gems? They don’t trade with any of the cities they’ve got branches in, right?”

“I suppose not,” Melindra said calmly. “But I imagine they have their reasons.”

Jane frowned. “Yeah… reasons.” Her voice dropped. “That's not good enough. And, I’m not trying to be rude, but—don’t you think they’re a little bit… wimpy? Like, where are the guards? I think the only class I’ve seen so far has been Appraiser.”

Before Melindra could respond, the stone door scraped open behind them. A stocky dwarf entered—this one dressed in much finer garments, his beard neatly braided and trimmed. He approached in a rush, bowing slightly.

Gildred… Another Appraiser, Jane thought with a shake of the head after a quick inspection.

“I’m terribly sorry for the delay,” he began. “Melindra Stark, yes? Please forgive the door attendants—they’re not trained to handle Gold Class clientele. It’s been quite some time—yes, quite some time—since anyone of your standing has visited the capital branch. I do hope your journey was smooth, and rest assured, we’ll make every effort to ensure you have full access to your accounts and services without delay.”

Melindra rose smoothly to meet him. “Thank you, but I’m not here for a withdrawal.”

“Oh?” The dwarf brightened. “A deposit, then?”

She shook her head. “No. I’d like to introduce you to my… associate. Jane King. She also holds an account with the Guild.”

Gildred turned to face Jane, his expression neutral for only a heartbeat. Then his eyes widened. His face went pale.

“J-Jane… K-King?” He took an unsteady step backward, eyes fixed on her like she was a ghost. “Oh dear… oh my…”

He clutched at his forehead and stumbled. Melindra stepped in just in time to catch him before he collapsed.

“Jane King. Here. In the capital. Right now. With me.” He took a series of deep, shaky breaths, clearly trying to ground himself. “Of course… yes, of course. Collect yourself, Gildred.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with a shaky hand and dabbed at the sweat now glistening across his brow. Then, finally, he looked up.

“W-What can I do for you, J-Jane King?”

Jane stepped forward, kneeling slightly to meet his eyes directly. Her tone was calm, but commanding.

“Listen carefully, Gildred. What I need is passage through the Dirthian tunnels—back to Arcadia. Are you the one I talk to about that?”

Gildred swallowed hard. “Passage? Oh, well, err—not exactly, not me directly. But if you could just give me a moment, I can speak with… the appropriate party. Notify someone—above me—who can handle this sort of request, which is, uh… quite far above my pay grade.”

Jane nodded. “Perfect. Then let’s move it along.”