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They were a powerful and cunning clan, and if they suspected his involvement, they would undoubtedly have put a bounty on his head in both the Ruined magical world and the real one.

If they had declared him excommunicado, then he was a marked man, hunted wherever he went.

He had to be careful—one wrong move, and his cover would be blown.

He considered various disguises, his mind weighing the pros and cons of each option.

The most obvious choice was to assume the identity of a high-ranking member of the Borgias Family.

As an individual who had lived for thousands of years, Lyerin had the experience and knowledge to act the part convincingly.

He could easily mimic the arrogance, the air of authority, and the calculated ruthlessness that defined the Borgias elite.

Such a disguise would grant him immediate access to the city\'s inner sanctums, where the family\'s most valuable secrets were kept.

\'But,\' he mused, \'it\'s too obvious.\'

The thought gnawed at him, making him uneasy. If he appeared as a high-ranking member of the Borgias Family, it would raise questions.

In a time of crisis like this, the Borgias would have taken precautions to protect their most important members.

They would have been fetched and secured in fortified locations long before the apocalypse reached its peak.

For Lyerin to show up now, claiming to be one of them, would be suspicious.

The real high-ranking members were likely already inside, surrounded by their loyal guards, and any attempt to impersonate one would be immediately noticed.

\'They might get suspicious,\' Lyerin thought. \'Especially if the person I copy is already inside. The last thing I need is for them to start asking questions or, worse, verifying my identity. That would be a death sentence.\'

He shook his head, discarding the idea. No, that path was too risky, too fraught with potential pitfalls. He needed something subtler, something that wouldn\'t draw so much attention.

\'What about a lower-ranking member?\' he wondered, his mind shifting to another possibility.

The Borgias Family was vast, with many lesser members who weren\'t as heavily guarded or scrutinized.

If he assumed the role of one of them, he could slip into the city with far less risk of being discovered.

But then, another thought struck him. \'Wouldn\'t that be even more suspicious?\'

Lower-ranking members of the Borgias would still be under some level of scrutiny, especially in a time of crisis.

They would be expected to check in with their superiors, to take orders and fulfill their duties.

If he appeared as one of them, he might be asked to perform tasks or relay information—things he wouldn\'t be able to do without revealing his true identity.

Worse, the Borgias might wonder why he was alone, why he wasn\'t already with the others.

\'Too obvious again,\' Lyerin mused, a frown creasing his brow. \'They would expect a lower-ranking member to have already reported in. To show up now, unannounced, would only raise more questions. If I can\'t answer them, I\'m dead.\'

The idea was discarded just as quickly as it had come.

Lyerin\'s mind continued to work, spinning through options, evaluating each one with the cold logic of a seasoned strategist.

He considered taking on the identity of a middle-ranking member, someone who wasn\'t important enough to be immediately recognized but not so unimportant that their presence would go unnoticed.

But the more he thought about it, the more flaws he saw in the plan.

A middle-ranking member would have responsibilities, people who knew them and would recognize if something was off. The risk of being exposed was still too high, especially if the person he chose to impersonate had already been accounted for.

\'No, that\'s even more obvious,\' he mumbled under his breath. \'They\'d expect someone like that to already be inside, coordinating with others. If I suddenly show up, they\'ll know something\'s wrong.\'

Lyerin was almost losing any ideas with him as he discarded yet another potential plan.

The pieces weren\'t fitting together, and time was running out. He needed to think of something, something that wouldn\'t draw so much attention, but that would still allow him to move freely within the city.

And then, an idea struck him—a simple, yet effective idea that made him pause.

\'What if I pretended to be another halfling member of the Borgias again?\'

It was a risky move, but one that made sense the more he thought about it. Halflings—those who were only half-blooded Borgias—were not considered true members of the family.

They were often treated as outsiders, slaves even, given the most menial tasks and kept on the fringes of the family\'s affairs.

Because of this, they weren\'t expected to know much about the inner workings of the family, nor were they trusted with any real responsibilities.

\'Perfect,\' Lyerin thought, his lips curling into a smile. \'They wouldn\'t expect a halfling to be involved in anything important. I could pass through the city without drawing too much attention. If anyone questions me, I can play dumb. After all, what would a half-blood know about the real Borgias?\'

The more he considered it, the more he liked the idea.

It was subtle, unassuming, and wouldn\'t raise as many red flags as trying to impersonate a full-blooded member of the family.

Halflings were seen as expendable, often used as cannon fodder in the family\'s endless power struggles. They were the perfect cover—someone who could slip in under the radar, someone who wouldn\'t be missed.

\'Yes, this will work,\' he thought, feeling a surge of confidence. \'This will work perfectly.\'

Satisfied with his decision, Lyerin allowed his body to shift, his features morphing into those of a younger man, someone who looked like they might be a half-blooded descendant of the Borgias.

His skin took on a slightly paler hue, his hair darkening to a shade of deep brown. He made himself appear smaller, less imposing, with a slightly hunched posture that suggested years of servitude.

His eyes, however, remained sharp and alert, a contrast to the rest of his unassuming appearance.

Once he was satisfied with the transformation, Lyerin began his approach. He walked towards the city gates, his movements careful and measured, every step calculated to avoid drawing attention.

As he neared the military checkpoint, he was immediately noticed by the guards.

"Halt!" one of the soldiers barked, stepping forward to block his path. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, his expression stern as he looked Lyerin up and down. "State your business."

Lyerin put on a nervous expression, his shoulders slumping slightly as he met the soldier\'s gaze. "I—I\'m from Sector 6," he stammered, his voice trembling just enough to sound believable. "Not far from here."

The soldier\'s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "Sector 6? What\'s your name?"

Lyerin hesitated for a moment, then forced himself to relax. He had prepared for this. "Freddie Borgias," he said, keeping his tone meek, almost apologetic.

The reaction was immediate and dramatic. The soldier\'s eyes widened in shock, his stern demeanor faltering as he took a step back.

The other guards nearby exchanged startled glances, their expressions mirroring the first soldier\'s disbelief.

"Freddie Borgias?" the soldier repeated, his voice tinged with astonishment. "As in, your mother visits you outside occasionally?"

Lyerin nodded, forcing himself to appear timid. "Yes, my mother does sometimes to check up on me. But now, she\'s gone for so long and I—I came here to find shelter. I didn\'t know where else to go."

The guards stared at him, their shock palpable.

For a moment, they seemed at a loss for words, their minds struggling to process what they had just heard.

Lyerin could almost hear the gears turning in their heads as they tried to reconcile the meek, unassuming figure before them with the name he had just given.

"But... you\'re a Borgias," one of the other soldiers finally said, his voice laced with confusion. "You should have been with the others, with your family."

Lyerin shook his head, doing his best to maintain his nervous facade. "I—I didn\'t know. I\'ve never met them. I didn\'t even know I had other family members until now."

The soldiers seemed to relax at that, their initial shock giving way to a cautious sense of relief.

If this man didn\'t even know about the rest of the family, then he was likely telling the truth but he\'s also a halfling.

After all, a real member of the Borgias Family would have been well-informed, well-connected.

They wouldn\'t have been wandering around alone, looking for a place to hide.

One of the soldiers, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. He was older than the others, with a commanding presence and a hardened expression that spoke of years of experience. "Freddie Borgias, you say?" he asked, his tone measured.

Lyerin nodded, keeping his eyes lowered. "Yes, sir."

The older soldier studied him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. Lyerin could feel the man\'s eyes boring into him, as if trying to see through the facade he had created. But Lyerin remained calm, his mind was unaffected and he was adamant on maintaining the illusion.

Finally, the older soldier nodded, seeming to accept Lyerin\'s story. "Follow me," he said. After that, he turned around and then began walking slowly with his hands on his back.

Lyerin nodded and then followed the man and began walking too.