Novel Aeterna Saga Volume 1:. Walking with Giants Ch. 47

Spoiler: Chapter 30

30​

Kain felt somewhat rather strange at this very moment.

As he sat on the stone bed inside a room in the Tetamus fort and covered in bandages from head to toe, he felt several conflicting emotions enter his mind, trying to gain dominance over other thoughts. It really was an incongruous feeling, indeed.

The very first thing he felt was a bitter emptiness when he tried to recall the awesome power he experienced. He couldn't remember. No, that's not quite right – he remembered being inundated with this otherworldly power, and using this power to overcome the obstacles in front of him. But for the life of him, he could not recall what it was like to live through it.

It was as if he was only there as a mere bystander, looking through a TV screen. Thus, he felt empty and distant.

The second thing was confusion, something the Old Man was responsible for. After all, he told Kain about the slight possibility that he might, just might, reacquire that very power if he stay put and train. So the confusion arose in his heart, because the next two emotions fought over each other.

The third emotion he felt was a desire that bubbled up dangerously like a boiling magma. A desire to regain what he had tasted, grasped and controlled only to have it taken away from him. He subconsciously desired to get it all back. To feel that power and to bathe in it, to revel in it. He desired all of that.

And the final emotion was reluctance. He was reluctant to believe the Old Man's words. More than that, he was reluctant to tread the path that could lead to his eventual demise. If you knew where the road would end – a dead end – then why should you walk on it? Why not try to find another way?

The power Kain wielded in that brief moment left an indelible mark on his psyche. It was like a powerful drug, intoxicating his senses and overwhelming his logic. He desperately wanted to relive those moments again.

“Well? Have you made up your mind or not?”

The Old Man grinned slyly, as he leaned forward on his vine stool. His eyes carefully studied Kain's face, tracking every minute change in the boy's emotional state.

Kain gritted his teeth. What choice was there for him to make? The moment he was given a taste of that power, the point of no return was reached for him. Even his reluctance, his fear of the future could not dissuade him from walking on this path. That was it.

So, all he could do for now was to nod and show his consent. “Yes. Let's.”

Uttering those two words took a lot out of Kain. Because he realized what saying them meant – that he'd willingly stay in this forest for however long it would take him to regain that power. That meant he'd not try to go back Riverfield, to his parents in this world, to the comfy life he dreamed of having.

It was a big commitment to make.

The Old Man's grin grew wider. He slapped his knee pleased, and stood up. “Good. Good. Give your self completely to the training program I'll set up for you. Don't waver and fight for every inch, and you'll be able to mount the ultimate summit sooner than you think!! That much I guarantee it.”

Yeah, well. Whatever. Kain sighed weakly.

His body ached and throbbed, like there was no tomorrow. It had been a week since that fateful day, and a full three days since he had woken up, but this pain did not lessen with the passage of the time. Instead, it felt like it was only getting stronger.

“Your body is going through a metamorphosis, that's why. You need to endure until it's complete,” said the Old Man. “A human body begins to.... solidify, when it reaches a bone marrow age of ten years old. Luckily, you are not yet six, which is perfect. Now I can remold you the way it's supposed to be. Just perfect.”

Chuckling, the Old Man stood up. Waving his hand grandly, he continued.

“For now, rest up and recover. We'll start training right away.”

As he headed for the door, Kain asked for Emma's condition. The last thing he remembered was seeing her hit a tree, disappearing into the dust storm.

When he temporarily gained that amazing power, he could sense the flames of her life force flickering away like a candle in a tempest as if he had developed an internal radar of some kind. That's how he knew she didn't die.

“She's fine. That girl is tougher than she looks. She's resting now, something you should do, too.”

Then the Old Man left promptly, not even giving Kain another chance to ask other questions. Questions such as, how did he come to acquire that kind of power in the first place?

Kain silently mulled over. His deductions all pointed towards the mysterious ruby-like gemstone in Emma's necklace. That thing began glowing when the crimson Wyrm suddenly showed up on the scene. Before that, she was frozen in a debilitating fear the kind Kain hadn't seen before. Only in the movies, maybe.

Can't be a coincidence, Kain mused to himself, wondering what could be the connection here.

He tried to think a bit more, but his head hurt, and so, he went to sleep. That was easier said than done, though.

~​

Katrina was sitting on a chair by a long and quiet corridor where only a distant murmurs could be heard. She was grumbling inwardly, slightly dissatisfied with some things that had happened so far. Next to her, Lizbeth and Kaleena sat, waiting for a door next to them to open and welcome them in.

She was grumbling because of the results from the Festival of Soaring Will. And what it said was crystal clear – Kaleena was a freak of nature.

Truthfully, little Katrina already knew very well that her younger cousin was indeed a stupendously gifted girl, a fact she had to acknowledge regardless of the cost to her pride. Just that, by working hard she thought that just maybe, she could close the existing gap between the two of them.

Alas, it seemed all her hard work for the past two and a bit years was somewhat in vain.

The test results have clearly demonstrated Kaleena's supreme compatibility with all things Aeterna. Nominally, she had four Elemental Affinities, but it was also proven that she had what was described as Quasi-Affinities with all the others.

A Quasi-Affinity meant an Invoker could utilize the Element to more than three quarters of the potential while a full Affinity would be able to draw out all of the effects. Others without any Affinities whatsoever to that particular Element, like Katrina, it would be considered an accomplishment if she could utilize around a half.

The day this incredible talent was announced, three of the sitting grand Elders of SOIR came down to see Kaleena. She became a big news in the Academy overnight. Some even went as far as saying that she was the second coming of the fabled One Sorcerer. This claim made Katrina grumble even more.

The legend of the One Sorcerer was not well known outside of the SOIR's circle of Invokers. But those who knew, or at least heard about it, understood the implications of such a claim, the weight that carried.

Of course, being the daughter of a former Capital noble, Katrina had heard about the fearsome entity that was the One Sorcerer before, although nothing more than that of a bedtime lullaby sung to her by her mother, then later by the nanny.

Every Invoker dreamed of becoming this One Sorcerer at least once in his or her lifetime. Even though the actual person had lived in the ancient times, nowadays it was more like a symbol, an ideal, a goal that all Invokers strove for.

The One Sorcerer, truly at one in mind and soul with Aeterna, wielding it with absolutely no restrictions at all, capable of summoning up every imaginable spell there ever was. A figure of true legend, surpassing the highest of Invoker ranking currently recognized by SOIR, that was the One Sorcerer.

And now, to think, Kaleena was being compared to that legendary figure. Of course Katrina couldn't help but grumble, although she'd never do that publicly. She had too much class for that. Her father made sure to instill such important mannerisms in her.

Right now, the three of them were waiting for the fitting of uniforms. Infused with a specialized Invocation, the fabric was designed to grow with its wearer. Once a student was measured and fitted, he or she had no need to find another uniform unless it was ruined in some way, or changed the learning institutions.

The uniforms they were going to get denoted the district the two girls would study in, named Elder Emeritus Kobus District which was where kids aged ten and younger were sent to.

Within it, there were dozen schools there, arranged in a way to separate those with clearly superior talents from those who didn't.

Either by a good fortune or rotten luck, Katrina was to enter the same school as Kaleena. Her talents were considered above average, bordering on a genius level, even. Normally, she'd be treated as a star but, with her cousin around, it all seemed a bit ordinary to say the least.

Hence, them waiting in the same corridor, in order to get the same uniforms.

There were a few days left before the official start of the school curriculum, and most of the kids accepted had in fact finished with their preparations, Katrina and Kaleena being the exceptions. For the last couple days Lizbeth led the two around in a mad dash trying to get everything sorted and it was so tiring. One more reason to grumble about, Katrina supposed.

“Hmm. The people before us sure are taking a long time,” sighed Lizbeth, as she took a glance towards the hourglass set up at the end of the corridor. It was an Invocation Tool designed to flip around at the sound of the hourly bell.

Seeing the dripping sand, she estimated that they have been sitting here for the past hour. They still had things to do after the fittings were complete, so this wastage of precious time was not helpful at all to the schedule she had in mind.

Deciding to stay patient for a little longer, she turned to the kids and asked if they were alright. The girls grumbled, one from boredom and the other from a mixture of emotions, but ultimately they answered that they were fine.

Lizbeth was about to suggest reciting on Invocation spells' Requisite Words to pass the time when without a signal the door to the outfitters opened suddenly.

Through the open doorway, a throng of people emerged, at least fifteen strong in number. Even Lizbeth's eyebrow twitched slightly, as she realized that most of these people were servants and only the two were not. As a matter of fact, those two, a mother and a daughter not any older than Katrina, were nobles of a high peerage. The pompous air they carried was a dead giveaway. The servants were carrying a massive amount of wrapped luggage, all of them seemingly that of the uniforms for the girl.

No wonder they took so long, Lizbeth mulled sourly. Ordering that many outfits for her own child.... How envious.

The older noblewoman paid a slight, nonchalant glance at Lizbeth and the two children, before walking past them in an elegant way. But her daughter hesitated a little.

When the eyes of this pompous little noble girl set upon Katrina, a look of recognition flashed past, before a sneer of disdain formed on her lips.

Katrina's expression darkened in an instant as she too recognized who this was.

The young noble girl then whispered something to her mother, which was followed by another look of surprise and then of a sneer, this time from the older woman.

“Well, isn't it a delightful shock to see you here, Miss Katrina Septima Lomax? How have you been? It's been ages since last I had the pleasure of your company.”

The pompous little noble girl mockingly spoke, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Katrina did her very best to suppress her swelling anger, and just a tiny bit of shame which she couldn't really understand why she felt it in this moment. Still, she managed to paint a fake smile on her face and curtsied like a proper lady.

“How are you, Lady Patricia Benedict Henson, Lady Almeria Benedict Henson? It has been a long time.”

“Oh, no need to be modest,” said the younger of the Benedict Henson girl, Almeria. She brought a white gloved hand over to her mouth and spoke as if she was slightly mortified. “I do apologize, it seems I've forgotten to inquire about your fate after the unfortunate incident of your father. There were many other things, you see. Please, do forgive me, this once.”

“Yes, do forgive my dear. She could be rather forgetful, when faced with so many important prior engagements.”

Almeria's mother, Patricia butted in, also carrying a sneer in her eyes. Then, she swept her gaze over to Lizbeth and Kaleena. She didn't recognize them, but that didn't stop her from having a low evaluation of the two standing near Katrina.

The reasoning was simple enough – their clothes were shabby at best, and atrocious at worst. Even though Lizbeth was a clearly a beautiful woman that made Patricia slightly jealous, in the end the woman from the Benedict Henson family deemed it unnecessary to remember anything about the her.

Still, etiquette dictated that she should at least enquire a name. “Oh, pardon my behavior. I am Lady Patricia Benedict Henson, wife of the Earl of West Skrife Valley, Sir Alfred Benedict Henson.”

“Well met, Lady Patricia. My name is Lady Lizbeth Ravenswood Lomax, wife of Baron of Riverfield, Sir Damien Lucius Lomax. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Lizbeth maintained a neutral face as she offered a standard greeting. In her heart, she could already sense a potential disaster brewing here if she didn't tread carefully. A disaster for her daughter and Katrina, that was.

“Oh, you're his wife. I see. Well, I do have to say, in my humble opinion you're wasted in a backwater territory like Riverfield. With your looks, and the rumored talent in Invocation, you could have had considerable fame and fortune here in the Capital. What a pity.”

That wasn't enough to ruffle Lizbeth's feathers. Not enough barbs there. Instead, she answered with a flat voice. “Not necessarily, Lady Patricia. The Capital is vast and filled with many more talented individuals than I. There is no guarantee I could have done anything exceptional here.”

“That is indeed true,” smirked Patricia, before her eyes settled on Kaleena, She cocked an eyebrow slightly, wondering why she was feeling on guard so suddenly when she looked at this little girl's face. It was as if she should have remembered something about her, yet had forgotten completely due to not paying any attention. Or maybe she was too stupid and conceited to care.

Either way, she thought it was rather unpleasant, so she harrumphed coldly, having decided that she would dawdle no longer and waste time speaking to a lower ranked nobility. Before all that was achieved, though, she felt a need to have the last word. “Well, we shall be on our way, Lady Lizbeth. But do remember, just because your children have been granted entry into the Academy, doesn't mean they were born with talents. Talents much inferior to my Almeria, in any case.”

With a simple nod, she led her impressive retinue away silently and outwardly at least, gracefully like a finely cultured lady.

Katrina glared at the back of Almeria for a bit, before realizing that from the look on her face, she was no longer in that girl's thoughts, just like a passing wind that didn't leave any impression behind. That was even more mortifying, being ignored and forgotten, somehow far worse than on the receiving end of ridicule by a contemptible person like Almeria or her mother.

It was like as if she didn't exist in this world anymore.

It was when Kaleena quietly grasped Katrina's trembling shoulders, waking her out of the humiliated state. Turning to vent her rising irritation on her cousin, she instead saw warmth and concern in those slightly different colored eyes and felt guilty thinking about getting angry at her.

Her face reddening from shame and guilt, Karina turned her head away, this time glaring at the direction Amelia and her mother took. She swore that one day, she'd be able to properly put them in place where they belong.

“Do not mind them, Katrina, Kaleena. There are many odious people like that in the Capital. Although a noble is forbidden to flaunt his or her influence within the Academy, that doesn't guarantee their sense of superiority suddenly disappearing into the thin air. It is best to grow stronger and pile up achievements that clearly speak for themselves. Understand?”

Both girls nodded and replied with a resounding “Yes!!”

Nodding back in satisfaction, Lizbeth led them inside the open door and a waiting tailor who carried an indifferent expression to it all.

~​

“So, uh, no more beatings?”

Kain asked cautiously, as he eyed the surroundings warily.

He still had a mental scar from that time, when a vine struck him in his man sausage. Just remembering that gave him an illusory pain down there.

“What do you mean, beatings? That was just to open up your clogged and closed meridians in conjunction with the meat buns to reshape your body. You should be glad that I went to that length to reform you, you brat.”

The Old Man coldly harrumphed, and waved his hands once in the air.

They were now in an empty chamber inside the fort, a space big enough for a bedroom. Once the Old Man's gesture ended, vines rose from the ground, and formed into two rectangular paddings similar in shape to a yoga mat.

He sat on one cross-legged, and directed the boy to sit on the other.

Gingerly, Kain sat down. His injuries were mostly healed by now and he had no trouble moving. Still, he had never sat with his legs crossed before, in this life or the previous one, so he had to do it carefully.

Once he was seated, the Old Man continued. “Right. From now on, we will alternate between physical training where you get to grips with the current limit of your body, and of spiritual training where you practice dealing with ch'i freely.”

“Does that mean I get to do one of those cultivation sutras? You know, like from those Chinese Web Novels.”

“Cultivate? What, are you a bacteria? Or a cabbage?” The Old Man scorned, and shook his head. “Hmm. Maybe it's not that inaccurate a description in that yes, you indeed cultivate your mind and body. But still, what a lazy and ultimately incorrect method of learning martial arts.”

Kain frowned, but refrained from making a smart comeback. Who knows what the cranky Old Man might do on a whim.

They discussed the training regime for a bit. What the Old Man proposed was naturally quite outrageous.

“A thousand punches and kicks every hour?! And I have to do that for three hours straight? Are you kidding me??”

Kain groaned in shock. Let alone being fit enough to achieve the quota, he might not even go the half way distance. And even if he did, he might lose all his hair and go totally bold in three years.

Ignoring him, the Old Man then told him how to train the spiritual aspect of him, via a specialized meditation technique.

“But before that.... turn around, and face the other way.” The Old Man gestured with his hands.

“Why?”

“Just do it already, will you.”

Reluctantly Kain sat with his back toward the Old Man. Clearing his throat, he came closer.

“What I'm about to do now, I haven't done it in decades so I might be a little rusty. If it hurts... well, endure it for now, okay?”

Before Kain could reply to this unsettling revelation, the Old Man placed both of his palms against the boy's shoulder blades. Even with the tunic, Kain felt the rough and weather-worn skin of the man.

And more importantly, it felt very hot. Unnaturally so. Almost like as if there was a pair of scolding hot irons pressing down on him.

“Be still. This is all to stabilize the foundation of your Sanbao as soon as possible. So, endure no matter what!!”

The Old Man then sent forth a sliver of his own ch'i to the boy's still tiny and weak meridians, and to his three dan tians near his forehead, his heart, and down in his lower belly.

The hot sensation from his palms entered Kain, and a sudden numbness gripped the boy like a steel vice. He found it exceedingly difficult to even breathe.

As for the heat itself, it coiled and scorched inside his veins and internal organs as if trying to singe him alive from within. The pain was incredible to say the least.

“Breathe, you fool. Breathe, like this.”

The Old Man noticed his difficulty in breathing and demonstrated a breathing technique quickly. Kain tried to imitate that, and was relieved to feel some of the pressure soften a little, giving him room to take in some much needed air.

Then, just like that, he felt something inside twitch ever so slightly, almost unnoticed. A ton of pressure like hundreds of weights bore down on various parts of his body and he felt like he'd be crushed in mere seconds.

But the heat from the Old Man's palms weakened and lightened them whenever it shot toward the affected area. This heaviness and lightness alternated, all over his body, worming in and out of his vital organs and flowing like a stream of magma dancing to a beat of its own.

Kain gasped out whenever this heat moved past certain points in his body, and whenever he breathed out like that, a dark mist-like air exhaled out from his lungs. The heat caused a powerful, rippling sensation that was increasingly more bone-shaking than the one that came before.

“Good, good. That's good. Let it flow through you. Don't resist it.”

The Old Man mumbled slowly while observing the ch'i flow in Kain's meridians. When the critical juncture arrived, he began to murmur in Mandarin the incantations of the ancient Tao system.

Kain heard it, but he couldn't understand it. But the weird thing was, every word uttered by the Old Man began to imprint itself within his psyche. One by one, like a hot brand left on a leather skin the words that looked like an indescribable scribble of lines burned into his mind, on top of each other like layers of a cake.

He heard illusory booms echoing in his head. His vision blurred for a moment, before clearing up. All the heaviness that weighed on him suddenly left him as if all of it were lies.

His pupils shrank as he received a shock after another shock as his metaphorical eyes opened up. Kain now could see things so clearly.

He saw the veins on the wings of a fly as it buzzed past in a super-slow motion. He saw the streak of iridescent light in thousand little chemical vapors dispersing through the air, something no naked eyes should be able to see.

And with that he witnessed the air molecules shiver as a soft breeze blew across. He even could see some sort of energy, vitality, coursing through the vines all around him, on the walls, under his butt, everywhere in this room.

It was life. He was seeing it as clearly as he would see the flow of Aeterna.

Is this.... ch'i?

Kain mulled softly. He witnessed something like this when fighting to drive off the Wyrm and the six armed giant. Currently the clarity and the depth of his perception lacked compared to that time, but the mere fact that he could decipher this much at all, made his heart palpitate with excitement.

“What you are experiencing right now is because one of your dan tien, Shang, is opening up. Consider it as if your third eye has opened up.”

Kain breathed in deeply, awed at the fact that this was happening to him. There were literally million and one questions he wanted to ask, but the Old Man cut him off. “Don't be impatient. This much is negligible. So don't get too excited, you fool.”

He snorted and suddenly, the sensation of heat left Kain's body abruptly. The clarity of his vision dimmed to a point where as if he was a blind or something, but a tiny bit of that wondrous feeling remained. Still, the loss of it gave him the similar sense of emptiness he felt not too long ago.

He turned around to finally satisfy his curiosity when a bout of lightheadedness assaulted him.

Ugh, this feeling, again?!

Kain groaned and slowly toppled over, his eyes closing gradually.

Before he completely slipped out of consciousness, he witnessed the Old Man wipe the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his white robe, a streak of crimson leaving behind a trail on the crisp fabric.

~​

Kaleena's eyes glittered in excitement as she took the very first step into the lecture hall. She's never been in an environment where there were so many kids of similar age to her. To say it was like a land of opportunity for her was not entirely incorrect.

On the other hand, Katrina next to her was dreading this day. Not that she had no guts to face other kids, no. It was just that, she wasn't so sure how she'd react to being stared at with antagonizing eyes. All she hoped for was to not act too violently or lash out unnecessarily.

The hall was laid out in a fashion similar to how a university's would look like, with the lecturer at the front with a blackboard-like surface behind him, and the learners, children of various ages, gender and races sat two across behind in tall wooden desks, each position higher than the ones in front to offer an unrestricted view of the board.

Because of Kaleena's results from the Festival of Soaring Will was so terrific, she was immediately placed into Andrea L. Pressario School of Excellence, the highest ranked learning institution in the Elder Emeritus Kobus District. Even in there, the class they attended was reserved for the very best of the lot.

Katrina got in the same class by the skin of her teeth. She may not have been the natural born talent but her strict training regime by her father meant she had a very good head start compared to the other kids when it came to the areas of basics. Still, competing against talents was not a cakewalk at all.

As soon as the two settled down on their assigned seats, Katrina immediately recognized two faces here. One of them.... was Amelia Benedict Henson.

The other was a boy named Brendan Vulpes Gleeson, a third son of Vulpes Gleeson dynasty that wielded a considerable financial clout within the Empire. A descendant of the elusive Vulpes Vulpes clan from up north, they were known to be wily and cunning, but also highly skilled and honorable towards those who maintain friendly relationships.

She met the boy with a luxurious light reddish brown fur and a pair of long, slender ears before her mother fell ill. Back then, Derrick enjoyed quite a circle of acquaintances and one of them happened to be Brendan's dad.

She hadn't seen him at all after all the misfortune that fell upon her father. However, Brendan Senior had come to speak to Derrick on one occasion before the pair's departure from the Capital, and the chat seemed to be amiable in nature. Katrina didn't know what all of that meant, though.

While Amelia was giving a scornful What on earth are you doing here kind of look at her, Brendan's face lit up when he recognized Katrina.

The boy eagerly waved his hand, his face full of beaming smile. Seeing this, Katrina's face cramped up a little, remembering just how much this boy used to cling on to her.

As a courtesy, she did return the wave but she made sure it was short, and ended it abruptly. Kaleena, who was watching this exchange, narrowed her eyes and giggled, after sensing something here.

“Who is that? You know that boy?”

“Yes, I do. But my dear cousin, please pay it no mind. Because I certainly won't.”

Hearing the tone in the curt reply, Kaleena understood immediately she had found something that could be a goldmine. So, she began asking all sorts of questions.

Katrina felt a headache incoming. Her troubles were alleviated the moment the lecturer entered the hall, causing the noisy kids to quieten down and find their individual seats.

The lecturer was kindly old male Bovidaskin, an Invoker of the Pinnacle Expert rank, only a step away from becoming a full Master. He wrote his name on the blackboard with an Invocation spell that glowed in rainbow of colors – Expert Zeos Taurus Momoe.

Even though he was on the old side, he still possessed impressive bulk that was a racial trait of his tribe, Bovidaskin. If Kain could see him, he'd scream out “A Minotaur!!” by now.

Bovidaskins usually were known to be recalcitrant and unfriendly towards other races so they hardly interacted out of their own territories. And Invokers hailing from there was just as rare too. So that point alone made Zeos something of an oddity, as he had a warm and patient personality, which was reflected in the way he spoke. This also put the young kids in his class at ease.

He began his lecture by introducing the content of this particular curriculum, what he expected from the learners in his class, a reminder of the rules set up by the school and finally, with the very basics of Invocation, a system designed to allow humanoids to wield Aeterna as freely and successfully as possible.

The lecturer coughed to clear his throat, and began his lecture in earnest.

“Now everyone, can you correctly name all three tiers of Elements that have been discovered so far? Raise your hands high, if you feel like you know the correct answer.”

Many kids raised their hands eagerly, trying to get the attention of the lecturer.

Katrina was among them, but Kaleena refrained from emulating her cousin. That was because she was not completely sure of the answer. If Lizbeth knew about this, then she'd shed a tear of blood.... After all, that's what she tried hard to teach her daughter, the basics.

After several kids jostled for the lecturer's attention, finally a girl was picked from the back. And to Katrina's disgust, it was Almeria again.

“Yes, Miss Almeria, please speak.”

Expert Zeos smiled warmly as the young Henson girl spoke.

“There are three tiers of Elements that have been discovered so far. In the first tier, there are four known Elements, Fire, Water, Earth and Wind. On the second tier, there are three Elements, that of Lightning, Light and Wood. Finally, on the third tier, Darkness, Time, and Space.”

“Thank you, Miss Almeria. You may sit now. Yes, what she have said is correct. There is a total of ten known 'pure' Elements in Aeterna. However, gradually you'll come to hear about another term, called the Hybrid Elements, later on in this class.

“Now then, can anyone also tell the rest of the class what is an Affinity and why it is very important?”

Again, many kids shot up their hands. Zeos took his time, smiling happily and nodding.

Kaleena had half a mind to raise her own hand this time around, but again she hesitated. Katrina didn't, and eagerly tried her best to get her turn to shine.

Disappointingly, someone else, a boy, was chosen this time.

“Sir. An Affinity is very important because it tells us which Element we can wield the best.”

“Hmm, an adequate answer. Thank you. You may sit now.”

Zeos walked around the desk in front of the board and stood before the kids and swept his gaze across, momentarily stopping at Kaleena's direction before moving on.

“Yes indeed, an Affinity with an Element means you will have an easier time trying to learn Invocation spells utilizing that particular Element. But it also means that you will gain a greater understanding of the Element itself as well. Of course, an Affinity is not a be-all-end-all of Invocation. Even without an Affinity, you can still wield any Elements to a certain degree as long as you try hard enough.”

Leaning his bulky frame against the desk, Zeos continued.

“You can develop a Quasi-Affinity by practicing spells from the Element you wish to wield well. If you do it long enough, you will develop it. Some can be born with it, as well. In fact, many of you here who have Affinities also possess a myriad of Quasi-Affinities as well.”

When he was finished, he glanced at Kaleena once more, and waved his hands in the air, causing all four first tier Elements to materialize. A ball of flame, a blob of water, a clump of soil and a whirlwind, all of them no bigger than an apple.

“See? My Affinity is with the Light Element, but since I have developed Quasi-Affinities with these four, I can freely wield them just fine.”

Seeing this, kids were murmuring to each other excitedly. It was atypical to see so many Elements being wielded all at once by a single person so it was causing a stir of sorts. Even Katrina was getting interested.

Kaleena tilted her head slightly, wondering to herself if such a thing was something so laudable. After all, she could do it as well, maybe not without the Requisite Words like Zeos, but still.

Carrying the four Elements around, bulky old lecturer smiled gently and spoke up.

“Now normally, a person is born with an Affinity toward a single Element. In rare cases, where the gods have given their blessings, you may see a person with two, or maybe even three Affinities.”

Many kids frowned at this point of the lecture. They were all from the nobility, and ever since young, they were told they possessed a boundless might and talent because it was their birthright. But upon testing, it turned out none of them were blessed with the so-called multi-Affinity.

Those who didn't frown, like Almeria, did possess two Affinities so they felt their self esteem shoot through the roof, seeing the inferior ones around them.

But that got crushed for good shortly afterward. Because Zeos couldn't hold it in anymore and proudly announced to all the other kids in the class.

“Our class is quite special, however. Because, within our midst, a young lady has come possessing not one, not two, not three but four Affinities. And to top it all off, she's even blessed with Quasi-Affinities with the rest of six Elements!! And she is your classmate, everyone. Please, if you have any trouble with wielding a certain Element, simply take in her example and learn from that.”

Zeos, beaming widely, walked towards Kaleena, and rested his huge hand on her shoulder.

Instantly, everyone's stares drew at the surprised girl.

There were stares of curiosity, shock, envy, jealousy, even hatred thrown in there. Such attention made her hesitant self even more hesitant here.

Out of the eyes that watched and studied her, there were several pairs that seemed to take a greater interest in Kaleena more than usual. One set belonged to Brendan, while the other, to shocked Almeria.

Next to her cousin, Katrina was frowning deeply, wondering whether this development was a good one or not.

Today, I just learned that George Michael had passed on. Dunno about you, but 2016 is busy turning out to be one of the suckiest year in the history, like, ever.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 31

31​

The commotion inside the lecture hall continued regardless of what Kaleena or Katrina thought, many kids clamoring to speak and if possible, befriend the girl as soon as the lecture ended.

A school day was divided into three parts. The early morning session between Eighth Hour until Ninth Hour and a Half was called the Theory, while right after until the lunch was called the Application. After lunch, a session of the Reflection was held.

As the names suggested, during the Theory taught by Zeos, learners were subjected to a bombardment of information. Things like memorizing the Requisite Words for spells, gaining a deeper understanding of how Aeterna and the related Elements worked, history of certain spells, that sorts of things were discussed and taught during this session.

During the Application, learners were brought out to a training ground and told to put what they learned into practice.

The Reflection was reserved after that, a session designed to let the learners who had tried their hands at invoking spells reflect and analyze the experiences, see what they got right and wrong thereby further improving their skills.

As the kids moved on under supervision from the lecture hall to a nearby training ground reserved exclusively for this particular class, many children were surrounding Kaleena and Katrina, asking equally many, many questions.

Like, where she was from, or like which Elements she had Affinities with.

Lizbeth taught both girls that asking about one's Affinities openly was a bad thing unless the Invoker willingly spoke up first, so Kaleena simply smiled and didn't answer. But she was happy to oblige other questions.

In fact, she was getting along with pretty much everyone who approached her with friendly intentions quite easily. And that was slightly getting on Katrina's nerves.

Jealousy was one thing, but being brushed aside by the eager crowd wishing to talk to her cousin was becoming really annoying to her.

All the way to the training ground, she maintained a sour face, occasionally glancing over at the face of her smiling and happy cousin, wondering how could she be so carefree under the circumstances.

In the end, it was Katrina who gave up trying to understand. She sighed out loudly, and shook her head. Kaleena was a mystery not even a deity could solve at this point.

And it was also at this point Katrina noticed a few hostile eyes firmly trained on her cousin's direction.

Almost all of them, she couldn't recognize, but Almeria's gazes, full of intense jealousy was as naked as it got.

The Benedict Henson girl carried a twisted and ugly expression that spoke of how humiliated she felt about Kaleena taking the potential spotlight away from her.

Her dark emotions stemmed from the kind of upbringing she had received. Back when her results from the test of Invocation talent arrived, she shook her household by possessing an unbridled potential by having two Affinities as well as three Quasi-Affinities.

Her entire family celebrated this blessing from the gods like there was no tomorrow. After all, being an Invoker brought a great deal of prestige to any family regardless of the social standing.

Everyone in Almeria's family told her that she was special, that she was without a peer, that she was destined for even greater heights. And she believed those words unreservedly.

Yet when she took one single step into the world of Invocation, the truth was revealed. She was not as special as everyone around her made it out to be. She met other kids with two Affinities like her, but possessing higher number of Quasi-Affinities, putting her firmly in the inferior category.

Then there was that one boy in the very same class as her who possessed three Affinities. He was the proverbial king of the hill, lording over the other, lesser kids with a pompous attitude to match his natural talent. Which was might as well, seeing that he had quite a formidable background to begin with.

However, Almeria didn't feel bitter about that. A boy from a superior family possessing a superior talent sounded just about right to her. But with Kaleena here, everyone, even that pompous boy, was relegated to that of playing a supporting role. Such a thing obviously did not sit well with the kids who were told of their absolute superiority from the moment they started crawling in their diapers.

So it was only natural for some of these children to harbor ill thoughts towards those of lower social standing possessing a better natural disposition than themselves. Not all, though – there were others who got over the hurdle of understanding that there were always someone else who happened to be better than them regardless of peerage.

Katrina was mindful of the hostile gazes as well as the envious ones. She really didn't know why she was feeling nervous here, instead of Kaleena. Her cousin should have been the person wilting under the supreme weight of scrutiny from her peers.

Yet, whether due to naivete, or simply because of a good-natured personality, she was all smiles and only happy to talk to other kids like it was an everyday occurrence and nothing to fret about.

This whole first morning at the school was turning out to be a rather infuriating day so far for Katrina. And it wasn't even her fault to begin with.

Accompanied by teacher Zeos, the whole class arrived at the massive training district. Zeos was inwardly rather nervous. For some reason, he was told to bring his class here, rather than the usual ground just behind the school building. It was not according to the normal protocol but the Grand Elders assured him there was nothing to worry about.

The training district within the Academy was split into two types of grounds, with one on the open grasslands flanked by a forest and an artificial swamp, and the other an enclosed laboratory.

The usual school's training ground consisted of a field designed for sports-like activities which would be beneficial in developing sturdy bodies for the students. But here, within the training district the aim was to build battle experiences. A place for combatants, in other words, not for these children not yet ten years of age.

Their destination was the grassland portion of the training district. The class observed various training happening around them on the fields, lots of spells exploding and littering all over the place. Seeing all this cacophony of noise and tremor, it couldn't be helped that many kids were getting agitated, some in a good way while the others, not so much.

The grasslands weren't simply a flat piece of land. Rather, several items of note were erected here, such as a handful of small houses clustered into a layout of a typical village, training dummies that looked like enemy soldiers and Fiends for target practices, a false wall made to resemble a wall of a fort – that sort of things.

There was another Invoker waiting for the class there. Tall and broad-shouldered, she looked fierce and her expression, cold. Her eyes swept across the children that had arrived with an indifference before instructing them on what her role was – to supervise while under practical application of what they have learned during the Theory session.

“The rules are simple. You do exactly as I say, and everyone gets to go home safe and sound. Understood? In here, my words are the law. Remember that, you little tykes.”

The Invoker in charge of this particular training ground grumbled icily at the kids, causing a few of them to frown in dissatisfaction.

Ignoring them completely, the Invoker introduced herself. “I'm the Pinnacle Expert ranked Invoker, Sonorra. From now on, always address me as ma'am. No exceptions.”

While she said that, she released an intimidating aura that pervaded the air with a thick killing intent. Of course, the children were affected by this sudden emission of powerful negative energy, and almost all of them became pale faced, their knees trembling in shock.

Zeos frowned and quickly intervened. “Expert Sonorra. That's quite enough, don't you think?” He released an aura that countered Sonorra's killing intent, the two clashing and negating each other.

Clicking her tongue, she turned on her heels and pointed towards one of the mock fort walls. “I'll call out three names. You will then cast spells you think you're good at. Doesn't matter if it's an attack spell or for defense. So, just go all out.”

She called out three random names, and the kids with shaking knees slowly came forward. And as told, they each fired off spells they were most confident in – or, at least tried to.

They were still badly affected by the deadly aura from Sonorra before, and could not, for the life of them, recall the relevant Requisite Words properly. Inevitably their attempts at casting Invocations were a collective failure.

Seeing this, Sonorra became even more aggressive.

“Pathetic. I knew you were all a bunch of pampered rich kids with no backbone. It's depressing to think the future of Invocation lies with a lot of you. If you can't even handle a simple pressure like mine, how were you planning to withstand something far more scary than me in the future? Useless!!”

Zeos's frown only became deeper. But he didn't rebuke his colleague for stepping out of the line. After all, she was well known for her hardline approach. He had to wonder, though – why did the Grand Elders saw fit to assign this particular class to be supervised under this tyrant of a woman. Usually, she'd be handling much older kids, not something like his class.

Sonorra snorted derisively, and trained her eyes on Kaleena instead.

“Hey, you. Come over here. You the one with all those amazing Affinities, right? Show us what you're made out of.”

Once more, everyone turned to see Kaleena. She stood there, tilting her head slightly. She narrowed her eyes, after feeling that something was not quite right with the way this supposed lecturer was talking to her and her classmates.

She and Katrina were two of the kids who weren't affected by the pressure released by Sonorra. Derrick, Damien, and even Lizbeth, sometimes emitted intense aura like that plenty of times before, such as when they were sparring for real, or when the family was discussing Kain's passing. So, that much wasn't anything to write home about.

But the tone of Sonorra's words got her pondering. It didn't feel like something a lecturer should say, and instead, sounded more like a provocation. Kinda like what a kid might say in a playground.

In other words, it all felt like an attempt at bullying.

When she realized this bit, her cheeks puffed up in defiance. A not-so-nice lady was trying to bully her and other kids into submission. How could she not take up the challenge? Of course she would.

So, Kaleena bravely walked out in front, ready to cast all the spells she knew she could with no hassle. But then, she hesitated. One or two spells needed her to touch the target where the Invocation's effects were to take place. Besides, she didn't know any spells from Darkness Element at all. That one was one of the Affinities she had.

Watching her hesitate, Katrina frowned a bit more than before. She sure didn't want to see the idiot cousin of hers get into a tough spot she couldn't get out of, although it was hard to tell how anyone could help her out at this point.

Funnily enough, Katrina didn't want to worry about Kaleena at all. She had her own problems to think about, so why should she care what happened to her clueless cousin?

Somehow, though, she just couldn't look the other way.

She wasn't a girl to suffer indecision so Katrina made up her mind to step out and help Kaleena. However, even before she could take one step, Almeria decided she'd have a crack at making a disparaging remark or two first.

“Ho. So an acclaimed and talented Miss Lomax can't actually follow up on her lofty evaluations now is it? How disappointing. And here I was, thinking that it'd be wonderful to receive some pointers.”

Her cold words were soon echoed by the others spewing similar kind of venom. They were taking this chance to bring Kaleena down a peg or two. The pettiness in their actions was rather unsightly to behold but no one was there to point that out. Except for Katrina, that was.

Still, she had no chance to speak up.

“Hey, silence!! Let her do her thing, and then criticize if she's found lacking. But as far as I can see, she's better than the lot of you!! She's not even that affected by my aura, while you, you, and you wet your pants like some little babies. You don't get to raise your voices at her yet!!”

Sonorra injected a little bit of Aeterna in her voice and shouted loudly, instantly silencing the class.

After achieving the quietness she wanted, the cold-faced Invoker turned to Kaleena and spoke as if she was seeing her in a new light.

“I'm impressed. You're not scared of me, are you? You must have been around a few fierce men. I'm guessing your father is one such person?”

Kaleena nodded. “Yes, my father and mother are both Gold ranked Adventurers. And my uncle is a Silver ranked Divine Knight as well.”

“Is that so?” Sonorra snorted. “You've been around a rough crowd, is that what you're telling me? You think I'm impressed in the slightest? Your mommy and daddy aren't here to help you. You are on your own now. So, do your thing, or if you can't, go slink off to a corner and disappear from my view.”

Kaleena became angry when she heard that. Without thinking, she raised her hand and pointed at the mock wall.

Her eyes sharpened, and breathlessly she uttered the Requisite Words.

“Come, come forth in a wave,

Mount and fall in a dance,

Recede, break, grounds pave,

All lost, in meetings of chance,

Shake free, and roar for me – Water Cannon!!”

Suddenly, Water Elements in the air, serenely floating until now, congealed into a fast-growing orb. It rapidly grew to a size of a basketball, and shot out forward like a speeding bullet.

With a loud bang, it struck the wall, shaking it hard.

There was a noticeable indentation on the surface, a testimony to how strong the impact actually was. The mock wall was constructed out of real stone and bricks so it had almost the same toughness as the real fort walls it imitated. To damage it, even if slightly, at her young age was a shocking achievement to say the least.

Of course Kaleena didn't stop there.

She then rapidly fired off Flame Javelin, the only non-beginner spell she knew. She even knew the shortened form of Words for this spell, so the whole firing sequence only took a blink of an eye.

Plus, her Aeterna Pool was vast enough to support firing off such a strong spell with no penalties whatsoever.

Next, she cast an Earthen Wall that would make Kain quite proud and surrounded herself with it. She expertly held the spell continuously for a few minutes before activating the one spell she cherished the most – Light Heal. The spell she learned from her mother.

Of course there was no injury on her or anyone around her for that matter, so it ended up only as a pretty light show, but still, a healing Invocation spell from Light Element Aeterna caused no small stir among the class.

She could go on, but that's where Kaleena stopped. Standing proudly, she looked at Sonorra, asking her whether that was fine for a demonstration.

“Is this good? Or should I continue, ma'am?”

Her tone gave Sonorra something to chuckle about, albeit in her usual cold manner.

“You're a feisty one, aren't you. Taking after your parents, huh? Well, I've met little tykes like you plenty of times before. And I know just the way to handle the likes of you.”

Sonorra glanced at the stunned kids and shouted once more. “You see what this girl did, right? Now, if you can't fire off spells as strong as her, then I'll have you run laps around this training ground until you can!! Or, you'll fall down and die!! Now, get to it, or else!!”

Her bellowing voice boomed out, boosted by Invocation causing the kids to falter even more from the immense pressure.

“Expert Sonorra, that is going too far!!” Zeos finally rebuked his colleague, having had enough of her trying to scare his students like some sort of a terrorist. “I won't allow for your rough handling of these children. Please reconsider your words immediately!!”

Sonorra snorted coldly and waved her hand. “Fellow Expert Zeos. May I remind you that you are a guest in my class? Your authority doesn't extend til here. I also allowed you to partake in my lessons out of kindness on my part. You don't agree with my methods? Then I advise you to excuse yourself and go away. You are getting in my way as it is.”

Zeos's face reddened. “Is that the stance you are willing to put up? If so, then I'll be more than happy to report your conduct to the appropriate channels.”

Sonorra simply shrugged her shoulders. “Do what you will. I'm simply doing my job, preparing these kids for the harsh world out there. And that doesn't include coddling them, last time I checked.”

Zeos frowned deeply, before storming away in a huff.

Katrina thought he looked really mad. He wasn't the only one, though, as the entire class was also roiling over at the new command from Sonorra the Expert ranked Invoker. What she asked for was basically impossible to achieve. No one present could match up to Kaleena's natural born talent for Invocation. It wasn't even worth mentioning the discrepancies regarding Aeterna Pool sizes either. Hers was simply as big as over half the class here combined together. Maybe more.

It was inevitable kids began to throw resentful glares at Kaleena, their eyes asking her why she had to go and show off, making the others suffer like this.

To this kind of stares, she had no answer. Not even her anger could stay inflamed, nor her feeling of pride.

As her face reddened up and tears began forming in the corners of her eyes, Kaleena trembled in humiliation but didn't know how to vent it out. She couldn't help but wonder how her mother would deal with a situation like this.

Or, for that matter, her father.

She gritted her teeth, hoping Damien would come back from his trip up north quickly and return to her. And maybe show this meanie a thing or two about the consequences of bullying people.

~​

In the meantime, Damien was stepping off the platform of the Sky Ark Station in the city of Marlborough. The disembarking crowd was thin, not many tourists opting to come to this neck of the woods especially as the long and harsh Winter months rapidly encroached.

And as to reinforce that point, the winds brushing his face was quite chilly, a reminder that the Summer here was short and the warmth of that season lasting only for a proverbial blink.

The source of that coldness, the imposing mountain range, capped off in permafrost stood majestically in the distance. There were a dozen peaks that reached up into the heavens, their inhospitable sides pockmarked by countless defensive walls built to keep the Northern Barbarians away.

And in between the two tallest peaks, a gigantic glacier as wide as an ocean rested. From there, a river of some note flowed to the city, becoming its freshwater supply.

Good thing I brought a coat, Damien chuckled to himself wryly. He had gotten used to the temperate climates of Riverfield, and it'd be difficult getting reacclimatized in the short time he planned to stay here.

Also, he was somewhat weary of the fact that the so-called terminally ill father of his managed to live until now, a good few months after Dukakis sending that letter.

To make the matters worse, he was all alone, Lizbeth deciding to stay behind in the Capital to look after the girls instead.

As he stepped out of the station, a black stagecoach was waiting for him. Next to it, a butler with a familiar face, although it had aged since the last time Damien saw it.

“Young Master Damien,” the butler smiled warmly and bowed slightly. “Welcome home, sir.”

“It's been a while, Cassius. How are things?”

Cassius the old butler scanned the sparse crowd and smiled bitterly, realizing that the Young Master of the Lucius Lomax bloodline didn't come with his family. But right away he straightened up, and opened the stagecoach's door, smartly stepping aside as he did so. Maintaining a wry smile himself, Damien climbed in and saw that it was empty inside. Besides the butler who raised him when he was little, no one else came to greet him.

With Dukakis, it was understandable – he must have had a crap load of work to do, seeing that he was the lord-all-but-in-name of this territory. But as for his sister.... Or, for that matter, his other cousins....

More than that, though, he was searching to see if any of the members of this organization called the Children were here. Obviously he wouldn't be able to tell who's who, but as long as someone was giving him a suspicious air, Damien was more than prepared enough to pounce and find a lead.

If not, he'd stick to his original plan and do it the hard way by finding that merchant Mikael talked about.

Cassius entered after Damien and sat across him, giving the signal to the coach driver to get a move on.

After that, though, the old butler sighed as he took a closer look at Damien's missing arm.

“Young Master. You should've come home right after all that's happened. There's always a place for you here, sir.”

“Hmm. Thank you for your words of concern, Cassius. But in all honesty, you know as well as I do father is not that kind of person. He'd look at my arm and go, 'what a weakling. You should have been stronger'.”

“Young Master....”

Cassius sighed again. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat and nodded solemnly. “In any case, you are back home, with your family, sir. Master Dukakis and Master Donatella should be delighted to see you again after all this time.”

“Yeah, well. Dukakis might be happy to see me, but as for the big sis Donna...”

Suddenly remembering his older sister's face, Damien couldn't help but shudder in faint terror. He recalled the powerful arm lock she used to punish him with way back when. That attack really hurt. Even imagining it now gave him thudding ache around his neck where she used to apply the inhuman strength of hers.

“How's the old man, anyways? I only came because Dukakis told me about him being sick?”

“Indeed, Young Master. It is a.... particular illness that has been slowly eating away at the Master.”

“So it's real? Huh, well, I'll be. Never expected to see that man suffer something like that.”

Damien leaned back, slightly shocked at the revelation. He briefly remembered his father's stern, unforgiving face, always frowning, grimacing, narrowing his eyes and scrutinizing everything Damien and his siblings did. All of that for producing a worthy successor to himself and nothing else.

Count Caleb Lucius Lomax, Damien's father, was a military man through and through. He may only be a measly Count but it was a well known open secret that he wielded not inconsiderable power all due to him being the protector of the Northern borders against the Barbarian threat.

A long time ago, when Damien was still living at home, Count Caleb had high hopes for his last born to succeed him. Dukakis was simply not physical enough, and Donatella was far too much of a musclehead to effectively lead a territory as crucial as the one he was entrusted with.

Damien ably showed off that he had what it took to lead a county just fine – his personality was good, his martial skill was exemplary, and had a good head on his shoulders.

But because of his good personality, he rebelled against the expectations thrown his way unreservedly. It turned out that Damien liked the free and open world a little too much. Besides, because of the way Caleb placed all his expectations on him, naturally the rest of the siblings were discarded like an empty carton of milk.

How many times did Damien see his brother and sister shed silent tears of anguish? How many times did he see his father tyrannically oppress them both, fearing that somehow, his own children might rebel against his rule?

Damien had enough, and so he bolted. Some might say he took a cowardly way out, but what he did effectively forced his father into reevaluating his children and perhaps, even his priorities.

After leaving home, Damien came to the Capital, applied to work in the Adventurers' Association there, and eventually met Marquis Phillips. Then one thing led to another, meeting and falling in love with Lizbeth, going on many grand adventures together, finally settling down in the small village of Riverfield.

Looking back, Damien had a small feeling that if his father wasn't such a piece of work, maybe his life wouldn't have been so interesting after all. Maybe that was something to be grateful for, Caleb being an a-hole.

The passing street outside the windows of the stagecoach remained largely the same from Damien's memories. The cobbled roads were used to be somewhat rutted and broken, but it seemed rather smooth and well maintained. He could hardly feel any bumps. No doubt it was Dukakis's doing.

Now and then, though, he spotted a heavily armored platoon of soldiers on patrol, which raised Damien's eyebrows. There seemed to be more than what he'd remembered. Their equipment carried was no joke either.

“Cassius, did something else happen? Why all the heavy security?”

Damien asked as he leaned forward. Now that he noticed, there was no family crest on the stagecoach they were riding on, which was odd as well.

After all, this vehicle belonged to the lord of the territory. It was only a normal occurrence that such a fact was as widely advertised as possible to all the passersby.

Yet, their ride was devoid of all markings. And it was painted in the shade of dour black, if such a thing was even possible. A coach taking a grieving family to a funeral might be more decorative than this very coach, Damien figured inwardly.

Cassius carried a heavy expression, only nodding slowly. “Young Master, there have been.... incursions of the Barbarian agents to our city in the past few months. Their targets so far had been the nobility residing within the city of Marlborough as well as the surrounding towns and villages.”

“Are you telling me that the matter has become serious enough to warrant removing all the Lomax family crest off the carriage?” Damien asked back, clearly astonished. “How did the things devolve so badly? What is Dukakis doing?”

“Master Dukakis is doing all he can. Master Donatella is currently leading the suppression squad and has been successful in subduing unrest but it seems that the enemy has had enough time to infiltrate quite deeply into the territory. It is an ongoing struggle, Young Master.”

Damien suddenly felt a headache incoming. Leaning back now, he massaged his temples, before asking again.

“How come this news is not known in the Capital? Dukakis could have requested for an assistance. Why didn't he?”

Cassius shook his head. “I am not at liberty to speak regarding this matter, Young Master. But.... please, have a chat with Master Dukakis, Young Master. I believe he urgently needs your help.”

Damien let out a long sigh, listening to this. So, now he had to worry about not only these Children bastards, but the Barbarian agents, too?

The timing seemed too good to be true, according to his gut feelings. But since this was the first time hearing of such a massive problem, he had no evidence nor facts to reinforce his suspicions. That would have to wait a bit.

“We've arrived,” the coach driver announced as he brought the vehicle to a halt.

Damien leaned out of the window to take a look at the grand residence of Count Caleb Lucius Lomax and his family, now surrounded by enough garrison to call the mansion a military barracks instead.

A thick, foreboding rain cloud was gathering up ahead in the tall mountain peak that served as the background. In a few hours, the unceasing rain would begin its assault on the city.

It was indeed a damp and dour welcome rolled out for the return of the prodigal son. Not that he felt that way, mind you.

Well, now it's the turn of Carrie Fisher and her mom. Hell No. No no no no. 2016, please just get the eff away now, if you could. Thanks.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 32

32




Damien was led into the study of the massive but foreboding mansion. A deathly hush pervaded throughout his walk, as if there was a prolonged funeral procession taking place. The oppressive atmosphere had seemingly blanketed every facet of life here, even the birds that should chirp and fly about were absent.

Looking out through the ornately decorated windows, he could see that the grass on the lawn had grayed out, the once-lush trees now totally devoid of leaves and color. Damien remembered there being a few sculptures adorning the now-barren gardens but now, they were all gone, replaced by the footmarks of marching soldiers.

Naturally, he asked Cassius as to why this place became like so, and the old butler replied that they had to let go of the gardening and landscaping team as Dukakis couldn't fully verify the backgrounds of the workers and thus risk a potential breach.

It was the same with the housekeeping staff – only the most trusted servants were retained while the rest was either dismissed or sent on an indefinite leave.

“Chaotic,” Damien muttered the one word that popped up in his head. Because that's what it was, chaos.

Many of the furniture were covered in white sheets as well, which would serve to lesson the need to dust them often. Artworks were covered, suits of armor standing guard were covered, the unused rooms were locked tight, and there was a patrolling unit consisting of two men walking around every so often.

“Lord Dukakis is not in at the moment,” the smartly-dressed adjutant stood at attention and addressed Damien when he enquired about his brother's whereabouts. “But he is scheduled to return to his office before the nightfall.”

It was the same for Donatella, his older sister. She was away on her assignments to eradicate the pockets of Barbarians that had infiltrated the Empire's borders. There was no word on when she was expected back either.

That meant Damien couldn't avoid 'it' anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the study and waited until he heard a sharp reply. “Enter.”

The heavy curtains were drawn over the shut windows, very little light entering the room. Countless books on tall shelves on one side, and to the other, a generously-sized fireplace. In it, a hearty flame bellowed, filling the room with a high degree of heat, almost making it feel like it was a middle of Summer. And there was this subtle but noticeable smell of bitter medicinal herbs floating in the air.

In front of the blazing flame, an old man covered neck-deep in thick, woolly blanket was sitting on a chair, looking rather pensive but alert.

His thinning gray hair was slicked back, cheeks gaunt and the skin pale, but his eyes shone brightly and sharply.

At first, Damien did not recognize this old man. Yet, the more he stood there and stared, the more familiar it became. The nose, the lips, the furrowed brows, those unforgiving, scrutinizing eyes. It was without a doubt Count Caleb Lucius Lomax, but much, much older.

Damien took another deep breath and muttered in shock. “Father? You.... have certainly aged.”

Count Caleb Lucius Lomax narrowed his eyes and stared at Damien and his missing arm, before opening his thin lips.

“You've decided to show up now? Hmph. 'Tis an unfortunate timing on your part, son. Now's not the time for pleasantries, as the events have dictated so far.”

Besides the Count, an aged maidservant was attending to him. She wordlessly drew a new chair for Damien to sit opposite his father.

He remembered this woman. She's been serving Caleb even before he was born, or at least that was what he's been told. But he couldn't exactly recall her name.

So he simply nodded his appreciation and sat on the provided chair, and studied Caleb's face closely.

It was true that the once-robust military hardman looked wane and spent. It had been too long since he last saw his father, but Damien was pretty sure a person shouldn't age this dramatically, especially in the case with his old man.

“What happened to you?” Damien asked, licking his dried lips unconsciously. The room's temperature was not only high, but the heat also had an effect of making the air dry and parched. As a result his lips were cracking up from the lack of moisture.

“The enemy,” Caleb replied curtly. “A cowardly, underhanded tactic to destabilize the entire region. But do not mind it, I shall overcome it.”

“How, father? You look half dead already. Never mind overcoming anything, you may not even sustain this.... charade much longer.”

Damien grimaced deeply as he spat out the words.

Truthfully, he didn't care much about what happened to this man. He was certain of that. Yet, seeing his once-domineering father withering up like this, he felt an unexpected emotion rise up from the hidden depths of his heart.

It was worry.

And that made him momentarily angry. How could he be worried about this vile man-creature? Thus, to deny his foolish emotion, he uttered some crass words hoping to erase this ridiculous sentiment right out of his mind. It didn't work.

The pair of sharp eyes gleamed like ice as Caleb shot up from the chair, throwing off the blanket in the process. His raised voice was full of righteous anger.

“Charade? You don't get to lecture me, boy!! You who have discarded the proud and noble name of Lucius Lomax in search of cheap thrills, only to call on it when the occasion suits him, does not hold the right to raise his voice, in my house!!”

Damien was shocked further by the sight of his father, now in full view and unobstructed by the blanket.

Once, Caleb was a towering man, as tall as the giant Barbarians, leading some to question whether he had a little bit of the Northern bastards' blood running in him.

Once upon a time, Caleb's shoulders were broader than that of an oak tree. His fists were thicker and more calloused than that of a drake's skin. His legs were thicker than most man's torso, too. He was a freak of nature, in other words.

Yet, the person that stood before him, rambling in madness and rage, was a frail old man with a shriveling figure, desperately clinging on the last vestige of his glory which was now clearly eroding away by the combined curses of time and the previously-mentioned unknown illness.

Damien's heartstrings twanged. His knees grew suddenly weak at the sight of the former tyrant in front of him.

What the hell happened to you, old man?!

Damien nearly muttered out his confusion aloud. Thankfully, he held back just in time, only thinking it inwardly.

Spittle escaped from Caleb's mouth as he berated his disappointing son. His words, however, entered Damien's one ear and left swiftly via the other side.

Rather, Damien was too occupied with observing the withered old man before him to really pay attention. Caleb still wore his military uniform but now with his weakened, frail figure, the formerly-impressive garment looked comically out of place, hanging loosely on the man's shoulders.

Dozens upon dozens of medals of valor hung on his chest, weakly reflecting light from the fireplace, clinging and chiming like cheap trinkets that they were whenever Caleb moved animatedly.

“Dukakis shouldn't even have contacted you. Useless. Utterly useless!! What a disappointment like you can do? Hmm? I hear you couldn't even save your own child. Your help is not needed here. Nor do I lack for your sympathy.”

Caleb spat out sharply, before falling back on the chair with a loud thump. The maidservant quickly pulled the blanket over her master and stepped aside. She looked troubled but wisely kept her mouth shut the whole time. She knew better than to interfere.

The silence pervading in the study was chilly, much colder than the air on the outside. Damien wasn't affected in the slightest, however. Instead, he was fuming inside.

He had half a mind to punch this weak old fool in the face but somehow managed to bring some sanity back into his mind. The last thing he needed was the added aggravation of getting physical with a dying man and then finding himself in a doghouse for it.

Finally, Damien was calm enough to open his mouth.

“I didn't come here for you, so rest easy. I came here to see to another errand. And to speak to Dukakis. Since he's not here, I'll be on my way, then.”

He got up, turned on his heels and left without saying anything else. Cassius looked troubled as well but silently he bowed before the count and left hurriedly to follow Damien.

Caleb grimly stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace before slamming his fist down on the armrest of his chair. The maidservant next to him twitched a little but again didn't say anything.

Caleb gritted his teeth, staring at the flames with increasing intensity as if he was trying to bore a hole in them with nothing but his sheer willpower. He looked angry, bitter, defiant.

Inwardly though, he was cursing his weakness. His weakness at unable to beat this thing eating away at him, his inability to say what he thought of as he sat in this darkened room, his weakness to stop himself from unwittingly meditating on his life, and finally, his inability to say something, anything, as an apology to his children.

He felt a stab of pain in his chest. Caleb coughed severely, bringing a handkerchief to cover his mouth, catching the phlegm of blood on the fabric in the process. Seeing the crimson stain, he frowned deeply.

The maidservant brought a goblet that contained a medicine concocted by a local apothecary, but in truth, Caleb distrusted it. He drank this disagreeable and foul-smelling liquid for a while now but it hadn't helped. If anything, he felt worse.

Before he could take a sip, he saw the reflection of his aged face on the medicine's surface. The man staring back looked tired. If he squinted a bit, he could see a little resemblance to the son he just had verbally abused for no good reason.

This made him feel even worse. Everything he did, was for his children's sakes. He felt his current state very much the definition of unfair. His father did the same, his grandfather too, and so he carried on the family tradition yet, why was that his own bloody kids looked at him like he was the villain?

It was so damn unfair.

Grimacing deeply, Caleb took a gulp of the foul medicine.

~​

Damien stormed off to the outside of the mansion. The sour taste lingered no matter how hard he tried to remove it. Cassius was behind him, handing over the Young Master's thick coat at the foyer.

“Won't you reconsider, Young Master? There are plenty of rooms available in the mansion.”

“No, it's fine. I can't be under the same roof as that man anyway. I'll find an inn near the local Adventurers' Association branch. I'm more comfortable that way.” Damien chuckled without mirth. “Right. When Dukakis returns, please inform him I've arrived in the city. Tell him I'll come and speak to him tomorrow.”

Cassius could only nod, as he watched Damien walk away and enter the stagecoach. The old butler sighed weakly, knowing there was little he could do.

Damien instructed the driver to take him to the Adventurers' Association outlet in the city. He roughly remembered the location of it, but wasn't sure if it had moved. After all, it was near the Eastern Gates of the city, which was going through a hefty renovation at the time of Damien's departure.

It hadn't.

The forlorn four story building stood as before, uninviting and drab just like the way he remembered it. There wasn't much activity out front but judging by the time of the day Damien knew there shouldn't have been too many bodies here. Otherwise, now that would have been an unusual sight to worry about.

Instead of heading in, Damien searched for and found an inn frequented by the Adventurers, both local and visiting, like himself. He was surprised by the number of rooms available. The inn was as good as empty. It meant that he could haggle for a lower price for a room, so that was a bonus, in a way.

Still, counting the pathetic amount of coins left in his pocket, Damien could only sigh weakly. He needed to start finding a way to earn money soon. Otherwise, he'd have to rely on his family's generosity. He didn't mind leeching off Dukakis or Donna but just thinking about Caleb's disapproving face made him not want to do that.

So, after almost a decade of not being an active Adventurer, he was starting again. He was more wizened, for sure, but also missing an arm. He wondered how would that go.

Adventurers in Noa, especially those in Argos Empire, weren't exactly adventurers as the title might have suggested. In short, they were a bunch of freelancers possessing a variety of skills, fighting being one of them.

Adventurers acted in places where there was a shortage of manpower. If there were not enough hands in a construction site, then the low ranked Adventurers took up the slack. If there was an outbreak of bandits in a remote territory and the nearest garrison couldn't do a thing about it due to some nonsense like jurisdictions and such, then it was the Adventurers who went and subjugated them.

If there was a need for rare ingredients that were difficult/dangerous/tedious to obtain, then Adventurers were hired. In some cases, where the security of a region was at stake, the local lords would hire Adventurers to bolster the strength of the local garrison.

Or, in some cases, Adventurers were hired to locate a lost pet. Maybe a stolen heirloom. Or even, search for a suitable house for the clients to move into. Basically, Adventurers did whatever, as long as it was above board.

Damien wondered whether Dukakis had done precisely that, hiring Adventurers to bolster the security of the city. Or was there the issue of trust that stopped him from hiring any and all who came calling, due to the Barbarian threat?

Making up his mind on what kind of requests he'd look up, Damien headed to the Association building. The layout was pretty much the same as it was in Lafayette, giving him a certain sense of deja vu.

Looking at the Request Boards he couldn't help but frown a bit. There were the usual Fiend extermination requests and the like, but the numbers available was pitiful. The three Boards here were barren, like the garden of the Lomax mansion.

Damien was troubled by this. Of course, he could earn the small amount of coin he needed to put food on the table. After all, he didn't come here looking to get rich.

No, he came here to find clues regarding the organization responsible for his son's death. Money was to keep himself fed, and to keep a roof over his head without worrying about the disapproving eyes of Caleb constantly trying to lord over him.

Ideally, he'd find jobs related to the world of merchants. Mikael's information was reliable and the man he mentioned, Westbrooks, was a merchant so if Damien could talk to a few in the same trade, he might be able to track the man down.

As for why he was doing it in such a roundabout way? Of course, he could have just asked Dukakis about the man. Hell, he could just walk around and ask a total stranger he met on a road, even.

The trouble was that Damien had no idea on how entrenched the influence of this Westbrooks was. For all he knew, his brother could be under the deep pockets of the man and inadvertently tattle on him. That'd be bad.

Simply by mentioning the merchant's name might make Dukakis do something unnecessary. Damien would like to avoid that as much as possible. So, by relying on his status as a Gold ranked Adventurer named Damien Lucius, he'd find this Westbrooks, and beat the important info out of him.

The lack of suitable jobs was hampering him in this regard somewhat.

Damien pondered as to why this was happening. Every city with the exception of the Capital, the Association saw fit to establish a branch since they deemed there was enough work to go around for its members. Marlborough, being in close proximity to the Mountains of North, always held plentiful work for all.

There was only ever a single reason Damien could blame this anomaly on: the Barbarians and their nefarious activities. If that was the case, then....

Then there was little he could do, regarding that matter. He had a few questions himself about the whole mess but if no one asked him to do anything, then he would not butt in. He didn't feel like bothering with it either at the moment as well. Too many complications where he didn't need it.

Looking around, Damien tried to read the atmosphere inside the branch. It was eerily somber, almost unnaturally so. As if someone deliberately said something rather awkward and no one knew how to handle it like adults. There were a few men milling about in the second floor bar, but none of them had any discernible expressions.

They all simply chugged down copious amounts of liquor like it was water. Seeing them, even Damien felt a bit depressed for some reason.

Should I switch to Plan B?

Damien mulled softly, before making his mind. The plan B required more of his coin to be spent, but no one said he'd need to do it right away. Instead, he'd scope out the lay of the land first, then act accordingly. But before that, he'd need to attend to another matter.

So he left the branch building and headed for where a certain retired blacksmith was living on the outskirts of the city.

Crossing the city to the Western side, Damien shrank his presence as much as possible, not wanting to leave behind any sort of impression as people saw him walk past. He wore the thick coat rather loosely over his shoulders, like as if it was a cape, which effectively hid his missing limb from the casual view.

Good thing was, even though this city of Marlborough was where he originated from, Damien knew even less people here than back in Lafayette. It was a funny situation for sure, but at the same time, perhaps a godsend for the things he was planning to do.

As he walked, he saw increasingly frequent scenes of patrolling units of half a dozen men performing spot checks right there on the streets. The soldiers roughly shook down all they found suspicious, ignoring the voices of protest and on one occasion, even using the threat of violence to diffuse a potentially dicey situation.

To say the tensions were running high would be an understatement of the year.

Nevertheless, Damien successfully navigated through all the craziness and made his way out of the city. Utilizing his Gold ranked Adventurer status, rather than that of his family name, he was not held up too much by the guards although he received a distrusting stare or two.

Walking past the bare crop fields Damien made his way towards a certain little hamlet half an hour's walk away. There was a small settlement here consisting of about ten families, building and living a small community, largely unaffected by the goings-on in the city proper.

His destination was one particular dwelling right at the rear of this little sleepy area. It had a sturdy wall, a smoking chimney, and a clinging sound of metal hitting metal.

Damien stood before the slightly ill-fitting door and knocked hard.

A few moments of nothing later, the door creaked open and a pretty young girl around the age of ten poked her head out from the open gap. Her face was covered in soot here and there, her unruly mob of brown hair pulled back loosely behind her, her inquisitive eyes studying the one armed person smiling toothily before her.

“Uhm, can I help you, mister?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Yeah. I am looking for Ged. Is he in?”

“Grandpa? He is in but right now he's real busy. Can you, like, come back later?”

“No can do,” Damien shook his head. “I got things to do later on. Got too much stuff to do and all, you know. Can you tell your grandpa that a man named Damien Lucius wishes to speak to him? It's about a commission.”

“What's a commission?” The girl asked, looking confused.

“Uh, it's work.” Damien suppressed a smile and answered simply. He forgot that not all young kids were smart like his own. It was better not to spew tough words at this little girl and create a misunderstanding of sorts inadvertently.

“Oh, alright, then. Wait here.”

The girl disappeared into the gap, closing the door behind her.

The low hanging clouds obscured the sun above, pretty much rendering the already-gray sky even more gloomier. The enclosing weather Damien noticed before was rushing in, fast. The prospect of him trudging through the muddy streets for his plan B was becoming a reality at a rate he didn't care for. Naught he could do about that now.

After a short break, the door opened up, and a short old man appeared. He was stocky and powerfully built, emanating an aura of strength of a much younger man.

“Ged. Been a long time,” Damien smiled and nodded at the man.

Ged snorted wordlessly, before gesturing him in to entering the smithy.

Damien entered and was immediately greeted by the kind of heat that could put most deserts to shame. A furnace was in the middle of cooling down on the opposite side to the entrance, a glowing hot metallic item resting on a jet-black anvil. The smell of coal and ores of indiscernible origin filled his nostrils. He found it rather nice and rustic. Quite nostalgic, as well.

Ged gestured with his hands, silently asking what did Damien wanted from him.

Smiling ruefully, Damien pointed to his missing arm. “I need your help with this, right here. Like back in the day when you made a false limb for that Silver-ranked Adventurer.”

Ged raised an eyebrow, then leaned in closer to take a look at the damage. He made Damien unbutton his tunic and reveal the shoulder and a little of stump remaining of his right arm. It had been a long time and the wounds had healed properly but there were clear scars left to remind all who looked at it the deathly battle he had to go through.

The stocky old man examined for a few moments, before mumbling wordlessly to himself. Seeing this, Damien asked the girl who was curiously observing the two.

“So, uh, your grandpa is still not talking to anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Must be tough.” Damien smiled at her.

“It's alright. He's been liked that since before I was born, so more or less, it's fine.”

She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

Ged never talked. As far as Damien could remember, the blacksmith never talked to anyone, ever. That even included the Count as well. That took some balls.

No one dared to make a mountain out of this quirk due to the fact that this mute man was a legendary smith who could work miracles if he felt like it. For some reason though, he was always selective about the choices of commission he took on.

Thankfully, one of them was when Damien came around to have his Frostbane serviced right after he had acquired it. The relationship of sorts formed back then, allowing him to come here and request for a prosthetic limb.

There were various types of false limbs available on the market. Damien didn't want to buy them. The reason was that none of those could match up with what Ged produced on his off day.

However, Damien never could really find the time to commission the smith to craft one for him until now – for one, placing an order had to be done face to face, thanks to Ged's personality. That meant Damien had to leave Riverfield for a period of time which he was reluctant to do. Now that the circumstances had changed, he was here, and he was going to get himself a limb.

As for paying for it.... he was thinking of sending the bill to Dukakis. He might not feel like leeching off his family for his food and lodging, but for this amount of money, he thought that Caleb owed at least this much. In his mind it made sense, so that was his bit of convincing argument if anyone asked.

Ged nodded and pursed his lips subconsciously as he pondered a bit. Then he beckoned Damien to follow him.

The trio left the smithy and headed to the fairly large storage, behind the workshop itself.

There was a huge metal gate blocking the entry. Ged stood before it, mumbled a few words and placed his left palm on the door knob.

A wan light emanated from the knob, and an Invocation Array activated with a swishing sound. An Invocation circle appeared and rotated on the door, and an elaborate chain of unlocking animation showed up on the circle with accompanying clicks and clonks.

Inside the storage, there were dozens upon dozens of items waiting for their fated chosen ones. Whether they could enjoy the light of the day remained to be seen, however.

Ged went to a large but flat chest that rested on a worktable. Once more, he murmured a Requisite Words, activating another Invocation circle on the top of the chest.

Damien was slightly surprised at the content of this unusual looking chest. Inside it, a metallic arm resided. It looked like something that might have fallen off a suit of decorative armor.

“This is....?”

Damien asked Ged, but as expected, he got no verbal answer. Instead, the mute blacksmith picked the arm up and gave it Damien, while pointing at his stump. It was at this point Ged's granddaughter began explaining the item.

“That's an advanced Invocation tool grandpa made a couple of years ago. When you put it on, it links with your own Aeterna Pool and connects to your soul. You can then move it around like it's your own arm. Plus, it's got lots of other hidden functions, you see. It's one of the very best item grandpa has ever made.”

“Uh, alright. But, uh, I can't use Aeterna at all. Sure, I've got a Pool, but that doesn't matter if I can't call on it, right?”

“No, no. It's fine, fine. Grandpa is smarter than you, mister. He knows what he's doing, you see. The arm links to your Pool without you doing a thing. It's all au... au, auto...uhm...”

“You mean automatically?”

“Yeah, that.” the girl nodded enthusiastically. “I say, mister, you're smarter than the average guys coming here to get a weapon for themselves!!”

Damien looked at the arm. If it did what was advertised, then it was perfect in every way possible. However, he noticed that it had a left hand attached to it.

“Thanks, Ged. This is wonderful. How long do you need for the change of the hand?”

Ged narrowed his eyes, pondering a bit more. Then he raised his fingers, three of them at the same time.

“Three days. Got it. Now, how much will it cost me?”

Ged shook his head, then beckoned Damien once more to follow him. The metallic arm was left behind the storage as they left and headed for the main house. The large metallic gate closed by itself, the Invocation array activating to secure the contents inside.

Ged produced a small parchment and handed it over to Damien when they arrived at the living room of the house.

The granddaughter offered up an explanation after seeing Damien's slightly confused face.

“That's a job request grandpa was going to put up in the Association. But then those stupid Barbarians did something and he couldn't. He wants you to take it up and complete it.”

“I see,” nodded Damien. “I don't see why not.”

This arrangement was better for him anyways. It could be a slight problem with the local Association since the request didn't go through them, but not that Damien cared about that either.

He unfurled the parchment and took a closer look at it. It was about finding someone to collect an unpaid due. Even better, this someone apparently worked for a well-to-do merchant operating out of the city of Marlborough.

This matched perfectly with Damien's own plan B. Smiling, Damien rolled the parchment that contained a rough drawing and a name of the person and he looked at Ged straight in the eyes.

“Consider it done. I'll bring a good news soon. See you later, Ged.”

As he walked briskly out of the house, the granddaughter followed him out. She looked at him with a skeptical gaze but didn't say a thing.

Damien asked the girl as he suddenly remembered something rather important. “Oh, right. I don't even know your name. You know mine, though. What's yours?”

“Gemma.”

“Alright, Gemma. See you around.”

~​

Damien just managed to enter the Western Gate before the heavens opened up. The falling rain was bitterly cold, as if it was Winter already.

Shrinking his presence back as much as possible, Damien entered the grimier parts of the backstreets, his aim to observe and to listen, and of course, to ultimately locate the man.

Originally, he was going to trudge through the various watering holes in the seedier side of the city in order to find someone living on the wrong side of the line, preferably a thief, and to talk to him or her for a snippet of information. That was his so-called plan B.

He figured that as far as knowing who's who locally, no one could beat an active thief. He would possess all the knowledge on the fat cats of the city, especially when it came to the identity of the merchants.

But now that Ged had asked him to find this guy, it seemed like things might get less complicated. All he had to do was to find this man, and then get the necessary info out of him. Which would let him acquire the prosthetic arm for free. Well, almost.

Then, he'd devote himself to knowing more about this Westbrooks before moving in for the kill. A good plan, or so he thought to himself. Sometimes, the simplest plan was the best.

He did try to find the merchant mentioned in the parchment first, as that was the easiest thing to do, what with the name of the business conveniently written on the request form.

The person he was looking for, though, wasn't there. After asking the other employees, he got a lead about his man frequenting bars down by the Southern section.

That was the rougher part of the otherwise already rough city. Damien wasn't looking forward to going there. Not because he was fearful, no, but because he could see there might be some unforeseen variables happening down there during the current climate of uncertainty. Not that discouraged him, obviously. He soldiered on foot, not minding the bitterly cold weather and the falling raindrops.

The thick coat did its duty to protect Damien from getting too soaked, which he was thankful for.

The grime here seemed more grimier than back in either Argos or Lafayette as the harshness of the weather got worse. And the folks Damien encountered on the road seemed just bit more on guard than usual, a little less friendlier to a stranger than before. All totally understandable.

While remaining mindful of that, Damien fleeted in and out of the various bars and joints, his eyes always on the lookout for the guy he was searching for.

Eventually, his feet led him toward a particular establishment near the Southern Gate. Here, the districts surrounding the Gate itself, there was more than a fair share of ruffians wanting to carve up territories among themselves. Usually, on a normal day the city garrison had their hands full quelling the miscreants here, but due to the Barbarian threat, it seemed things looked even more hectic than usual.

Soldiers and checkpoints were seemingly on every street corner. Damien saw more than a few men tied down, faces in the mud while waiting for a transport to the city barracks for a questioning. All the faces, either peeking out of the helmets of the soldiers, or those walking by, or even occasionally looking up from the ground below – they looked tense, tired, wary, haunted.

They were the faces of those living in constant fear. A fear of the terror threats, a fear of the fidgety authority figures with no target to aim at, and a fear of not knowing how it would all end.

Damien skirted past all that trouble and headed to the establishment, located on an extra-nasty looking street. Here, ironically enough, no patrols could be seen. Nor was there a checkpoint, but a few suspecting gazes thrown at his way.

It was now well and truly dark. The evening had come in early, and combined with the rubbish weather, the darkness grew real fast. The streets lamps lit up one by one, except here. Only the lights coming from the half open windows managed to dispel a bit of this darkness and illuminate the way to the bar.

As he approached the pair of swing doors to the joint, Damien sensed a rush of movement from the inside so he stopped in his tracks and tilted out of the way.

Might as well – because as soon as he stopped, a disheveled figure crashed out of the doors as if he was throwing himself out. This figure tumbled on the dirty street's floor, rolling like a ball until coming to a stop near some collected trash on the opposite side.

The figure stood up quickly, his eyes bloodshot, caked mud clinging on to his unkempt, messy beard.

Damien could instinctively tell that this man was very much scared for his life. Whatever trouble this man got himself into, well, Damien couldn't be bothered. After all, he wasn't the one Ged was looking for.

As he was about to turn around to enter the joint, the man suddenly shouted. “Sir Damien? Is that you?”

Damien reacted. He turned to see who could it be that had recognized him, only to miss two men trying to rush out of the doors. And the result was that the lot of them got tangled up rather inelegantly.

However, Damien kept his wits about him and quickly extricated himself from the mess, standing up to face the bum-like man who had identified him out of the blue.

When his eyes met those of the disheveled bum, Damien felt he knew this guy from somewhere. But he wasn't too sure who could it be.

The dirty, disheveled man grimaced at the men who collided with Damien, turning on his heels and began running away at full tilt.

“Move outta way, fool!!”

One of the fallen men roared at Damien, shoving him aside as he got up before giving a hasty chase. The other man grumbled and pulled himself up, showing a slight bruising on his forehead where there was a small cut. He eyeballed Damien venomously before going after the fleeing man.

Damien stood there, pondering again.

Who could that be? I'm sure I know that man from somewhere. But.... who?

….

Wait a minute. That voice.... Those eyes.... Could he be....

Jonas Bremble?! That snooty son of a dog from the Institute? What the hell is he doing here?

So, like, I had this chapter ready to post yesterday. But then.... I did a massive Boo-Boo and had to fix it real quick.... Hopefully it's a bit more sorted out now. Oh and happy New Year, people.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 33

33​

Damien's eyes widened in surprise and quickly turned his gaze towards the direction where Jonas had run off to, but thanks to the darkness, not a thing could be seen anymore.

What the hell?! Did I make a mistake? That man shouldn't even be here of all places. I thought he might have gotten himself a cushy post with that haul of the Aerinite.

Damien stood there, feeling rather confused about the unexpected encounter. The more he collected his thoughts, the surer he became about the identity of the disheveled man.

He felt something weird was going on here, something that might prove troublesome later on down the line. But if he could help it, Damien did not want to get involved. He had no time to spare on whatever trouble that Jonas got himself into. To be more precise, there was absolutely no obligation to help out anyways.

“You comin' in or what?”

A voice called out from within the joint. Damien saw that it was from one of the bouncers hired to keep the place more or less orderly. Which he found quite ironical, seeing that there was a chaotic situation only moments ago and this guy didn't seem to do much.

Saying nothing, he simply nodded and entered, heading straight to the dingy and lowly-lit bar. Sitting on one of the unoccupied stool, he ordered a drink while silently shedding a tear for his depleting pool of coin. And while he was at it, Damien couldn't help but ask the barkeep.

“You know what was that all about?”

The barkeep shrugged his shoulders. “The bum said he was waiting for someone. Then those guys showed up, there was a tussle, and now, they are all gone. Beyond that....”

The barkeep shook his head and eyed Damien for a second. Usually, in an exchange like this, the one asking the question would pull out a fresh coin or two to loosen the lips and stimulate the memory of the barkeep.

Unfortunately for him, Damien was short of coins, and he wasn't really interested, so his silent goading went ignored completely.

Reading the flow, the barkeep shrugged his shoulders as if he wanted to say he understood, and went away to attend to other customers which there weren't many to begin with. All the other watering holes Damien had gone through today in search of Ged's man, had suffered the same problem – a lack of bums occupying the seats.

The whole thing was not much of a mystery, though. As he figured, the Barbarian threat and the subsequent lockdown of the city by Dukakis had played a major role in it.

A lot of the capable, highly ranked Adventurers were already roped into the subjugation force Donatella was leading. The term used there was conscription, but the way he heard it, there was generous enough compensation offered, so in the end, it was still a job nonetheless.

In the meantime, lesser experienced and lower ranked Adventurers took to guarding the important parts of the city from the potential surprise attacks by the pockets of the Barbarian instigators still hidden within the shadows.

Those who couldn't really clear the issue of identity and trust were kindly asked to vacate the city for a period of time or stay indoors and remain inactive for a duration until the problem was sorted. Those who disagreed with this suggestion was promptly shown the insides of the city dungeon for a lengthy paid-for vacation. Euphemisms, of course.

That's what Damien was able to glean from eavesdropping in the various bars. There were also a few other tidbits he picked up on but wasn't sure whether they were of any value to him as of yet.

While reorganizing his thoughts, Damien took a sip of the warm liquor. It tasted surprisingly good for a drink served up in a spotty joint like this. Nursing it gently, he casually swept his glance over the dimly-lit interior of the bar, sussing out the place, searching and listening, wondering if he could finally get a break.

And just like that, Damien found him. The guy Ged was looking for.

He was sitting with three others, huddled together, whispering and minding the eyes around them.

That took a while. Damien thought to himself, as he continued to sip the warm liquor.

However, he found himself grimacing a little as he observed the group for a bit longer. Damien could tell these men were not in the trade of helping people out for giggles and smiles. If anything, the air they exuded was more like that of bandits or maybe even that of thieves, robbing others at night and hurting others for profit.

The clues were there for him to pick up on: the equipment, the way they carried themselves, the way their eyes fleeted back and forth, always watching the surroundings. Those eyes also had that weary and alert shine, diligently searching for the next mark to pilfer and pillage.

What the hell. Ged, what exactly did you get yourself involved into?!

Damien took another deep swig of the liquor to calm his surprised mind and studied the man. He was short but slim. The equipment on him was great, their quality shining through even though they were on the dirty side. No doubt that was done to disguise the class of his items, Damien mused.

He wasn't too sure but if he was a betting man, and he sometimes was, those items on the man could have been the handiwork of Ged. Just how on earth did they end up with those good quality items, Damien could only speculate.

The short man and his three pals continuously chatted among themselves in hushed tones, mindful of ears and eyes around him but not discovering that they were being observed. Naturally, Damien couldn't hear the contents of the conversation but he could easily infer that it would not be about kisses and hugs.

Damien was confused. How did that short man find work under a merchant? Did he infiltrate the business in order to act as an inside man? That sure sounded possible. But the way the other employees reacted to Damien when he asked around was strange – it was as if they didn't really want to get involved with whatever trouble he got into.

Was he a known quantity within that place? If so, then the short man did a poor job of infiltrating.

Whatever it was, a seemingly simple request had ballooned into something troublesome. Damien suddenly felt like he'd been suckered into doing something unnecessary, blinded by his own greed of the shiny new prosthetic arm.

Now, how should I handle this, I wonder?

The rest of the group, besides the short man, were all equipped with pretty nice items as well, leading Damien to believe that the business was actually good for these guys.

Either that or they were pretty handy with their arms and were capable of robbing even the most well-protected targets.

Regardless of what, Damien couldn't take them on lightly. These folks of the Northern Territories were a hardy bunch. They were tough bastards to begin with, so underestimating them was probably not very good for one's health.

The truly troublesome part was on how to carry out what Damien had in mind – that of not only getting what this man owed Ged, but to find out more about the merchant, Westbrooks.

Damien could do this the hard way – beat the living daylights out of them, and then ask away. Or he could pay them for information. Since he had little money left, there wasn't even a choice here, really. The hard way, it was.

As he was resolving himself, another figure entered the bar, the thick coat pulled right up to his chin and a woolen cap pulled low, obscuring the face.

Damien noticed this entry. There weren't too many patrons in the bar to begin with, and this new guy didn't seem like he was looking to wet his throat here.

He looked around for a second or two, hesitated, then approached the barkeep. Leaning over, he whispered while pulling out a Big Bronze coin.

“Was there a man that looked like a bum in here before? Has he left already?”

Pretending to not notice the coin, the barkeep stealthily reached out to it with a washcloth and like a pro, took the money offered. Not even looking at the suspicious person, the barkeep simply informed him of what happened earlier on.

Grimacing, the suspicious man straightened up and tried to take a leave, only for his eyes and Damien's to cross each other's. The man had recognized Damien. It was written so clearly in his shocked eyes.

Damien recognized this man, too. It was the adjutant. Dukakis's adjutant, to be precise. The one who informed Damien that his brother was out, back in the mansion when he went there to speak to his father.

Panicking slightly, the adjutant hurriedly hid his face and left the bar.

As for Damien, he sat there on the stool, utterly stunned by this new development.

An immense headache rushed in, and he felt like ordering one more of this liquor to wash it all down.

Oh, boy. Trouble just has the way of finding me, doesn't she?

As Damien sat there, ruing his rotten luck with a big gulp of the remaining alcoholic beverage, the group of thieves finished whatever they were talking about and stood to leave.

Of course, he sobered up immediately and followed them out, albeit a beat slower to avoid detection. Whatever the problem Jonas and the adjutant were going to put him in, he'd take care of that later. He'd solve this quandary first and then find some free time to worry about whatever it could all be.

Carefully, he maintained some distance while tailing the group through the darkened backstreets of Marlborough. This activity brought a sense of nostalgia to Damien, who used to tail quite a few people back in the day when he was still working for Marquis Phillips.

Good old days, or so he mused silently to himself.

Damien paid a closer attention to the one Ged wanted money from. The rest, he hoped for them to go on their own way. Sooner the better.

As if the heavens were listening to him, the short man separated from his comrades, going to another direction altogether.

Even though this was what he wanted, Damien thought it was all a bit... too convenient a timing.

It was likely that he was discovered, and the quartet decided to deal with him by luring Damien into a deserted corner of the city.

Alright, well, it's not like I'll fall into your little trap....

Avoiding the patrolling soldiers the two of them walked, one leading the other, and lo and behold, Damien did indeed find himself in an area dotted with many uninhabited houses where there were no lit street lamps nearby.

“Why are you following me, mister?”

And there it was, the expected question from the short man's mouth. Damien half chuckled at that.

“I'm here to collect on a due.”

“What due? What the hell are you talking about?” The short man spat out, clearly irritated.

“Look, long story short, pardon the choice of the word, Ged sent me.”

“Ged? That.... old man sent you after me?!” The short man looked startled. But then, his eyes turned icy. “Looky here, man. I don't give a flying rat's ass. Beat it, or we'll beat you up. Now, choose.”

As soon as those words left the short man's mouth, the trio who left to go the other way emerged from behind Damien's position a stone's throw away.

The four of them slowly advanced towards Damien's position, emanating a threatening air.

Damien simply sighed and shook his head. Even though he resolved himself not to underestimate them, a small smirk still found its way to his lips as he slowly reached to the hilt of Frostbane tied to his hip.

~​

There was a polite knock on the door to the bedroom Kain was using in the Tetamus fort. The crisp noise woke him slowly from the deep slumber.

The morning had come once more like a clockwork, signaling yet another day of training.

Before anyone had noticed, Kain's life in the forgotten city of Tetamus became a comfortable one, where everything became.... normal.

There was a roof over his head, a bed to sleep on, and food to eat three times a day. Most importantly, though – he was safe from the bodily harm caused by the bloodthirsty Fiends occupying the forest.

What's more, when he left his clothes on the bedroom floor, the vine-man would swoop in and wash them for him. It was kind of super service that most five-star hotels could learn a thing from.

If it weren't for the nonsensical training regime, his life could be described as idyllic. But hell, even that became a sort of routine as well. Day after day, continuously doing the very same thing, and sooner or later, no matter the difficulty, a routine of sorts formed. And following a routine like an automated doll was a comfortable thing, indeed.

The knocking continued as Kain sorted out his drowsy thoughts. “Yes, yes. I'm up now. Please stop....”

Kain dragged his feet and put on the freshly-pressed clothes. It was a size too big and hung on him a bit loosely. At least he didn't have to worry about ventilation which was nice.

He wasn't too happy with wearing a hand-me-down from a dead child, though. For some reason, the vine-man had a stock of clothing for children his age all ready for an immediate usage. Remembering the Old Man's words about all the past residents kicking the bucket, it sure felt a bit morbid to wear something like this.

So today, for the first time, Kain offered a silent prayer for the dead. Not that he believed in a religion or stuff like that, but seeing that gods and monsters were real in this world, he saw no reason not to pray. It wasn't like he'd lose something by doing it. And it'd nice if his actions alleviated the weight of the misplaced guilt taking root in his heart.

After quickly washing up, he ran out of the room. He didn't want to be late, otherwise the Old Man would chew him out good for being tardy. That was not the kind of stress one needed so early on in the morning.

Utilizing the nameless Body Enhancement Invocation spell to strengthen his legs, he jogged at a speed that was as quick as a certain Jamaican multiple Olympic Gold medal-winning sprinter and arrived at the dining hall in a proverbial blink of an eye.

The Old Man was already there, sitting cross-legged and meditating. Kain noticed that whenever there was an opportunity, he'd be meditating as if it was the only thing that kept him alive.

At that rate, you might even turn into a bloody statue of Buddha....

Kain snickered inwardly before sitting down on his spot. Seeing the Old Man's current status, it'd be a while before he'd be ready to yell at him for no good reason.

Especially so, when there were three gigantic, illusory blooming white lotus flowers slowly revolving around him.

Kain couldn't hep but admire the scene. The Old Man called this 'Three Heavenly Lotus Meditation' technique, which was par for the course, really. After all, this was a world where a giant tree grew underground, a undisturbed forest size of a small country and a hidden, forgotten city existed for who knows how long. So, why not a bunch of flowers sprouting from out of nowhere? At least they were pretty to look at.

When a martial artist entered a deep enough meditative state where the flow of the world's ch'i was at one's beck and call, such illusions formed around the said martial artist. It was a sign of being an ultimate being, according to the Old Man's assertion.

Kain wasn't 100% sure of such a sweeping statement, but nonetheless, the whole show was quite amazing to look at. And to think, the Old Man was teaching the boy to achieve something similar to this.

Crazy.

Kain could not sense anything in those lotus blooms. There definitely wasn't any Aeterna flowing in them. Through his ever-so-slightly awakened ability to sense a bit of ch'i, he did detect some but his level was far too shallow to decipher how this technique worked. He'd need more practice, in other words.

Not that he had no confidence in himself, but it was just that the whole thing seemed like an impossible puzzle at the moment. He understood that he needed to practice kicks and punches if he wanted to be good at, uh, kicking and punching, which was what martial art basically was after all.

But how could something so primal like learning to punch a face correctly help him to create a bunch of fakey white lotus blooms out of thin air? No matter what, it all sounded too fishy to be true.

As he sat there pondering, the lotus blooms slowly ceased their rotation and began closing up. The accumulated ch'i stirred and swirled, entering the Old Man and settling inside him.

Shortly after, he opened his eyes and spoke. “So you've come. Then, let's eat.”

The vine-man brought out those meat buns that wasn't a meat bun and the two began to dig in silently. This was the usual occurrence until now.

Today was slightly different, however.

“Listen, boy. For a few weeks, I shall be stepping out of the forest. I'll ask Embouchre to take care of you during my absence.”

The Old Man spoke briskly as he wiped his lips clean with a cloth.

“You going somewhere?” Kain nearly rose from his stool, even forgetting to chew for a moment when he heard the new declaration. “Can you take me with you?!”

“Are you stupid? Of course not. You stay here and train.”

“Can't blame me for trying, though.... Anyway, how long are you planning to go away for?”

“It'll depend on the matter at hand.”

The Old Man curtly replied, although there was a trace of unease in his voice, something Kain failed to notice as it was well disguised.

“Nevertheless, do not slack on your training. Every day is a precious resource that can not be taken back. Use it to its fullest.”

“What, you mean that kicking and punching stuff?! Or that sitting down and doing nothing AKA meditation? I can do both of those with my eyes closed, you know.”

The Old Man scoffed disdainfully. “Hah!! Such unfounded confidence!! Such arrogance!! Youth is a time of folly, indeed!! Fine. Why don't we make a small bet? Hmm? By the time when I get back, if you haven't mastered the ultimate level of this so-called kicking and punching stuff, I get to spank you til you turn black and blue!!”

“Are you out of your mind?! Hell no.” Kaina vigorously shook his head. “I am not some fighting prodigy from a manga or something. I ain't gonna take a losing bet like that.”

“A wise, but cowardly choice,” the Old Man gruntled, apparently dissatisfied by something Kain have said. “Hmph, where did your bravado disappear so suddenly? Didn't you say it's so easy, you can do it with eyes closed?”

“Oh, alright, please just give it a rest, will you. I get it. I get it already...”

Kain, thoroughly defeated, raised both of his hands in surrender. However, that only got the Old Man going even more.

“What's this? Why are you giving up so quickly, huh? What, you think you can give me slip by playing a coward? It's true that you're a coward, yes, but at the same time, you are also an over-confident fool. You wouldn't give up this quickly if you believe you can win. So, what is with this weak disposition, all of a sudden?!”

Kain grimaced and plugged his ears with his fingers, desperately trying to block out the loud voice of the Old Man.

“Look, fine. It's like this – you say I can become strong, but what can mastering punching and kicking do? I mean, if I can become an MMA fighter, that's cool and all, but that's not exactly what you've said, right?”

When Kain finished speaking his doubt, the Old Man's eyes narrowed to a slit, fully understanding the boy's behavior now.

“Hoh, so that's your problem. You're skeptical of what I'm teaching you, is that it? Bah, what a fool. Didn't I say your current body is too weak? It has to grow first.”

The Old Man flicked his sleeves rather theatrically and stood from his stool, walking to a clearing in the dining hall. Here, he stood with his legs slightly apart and once more waved his hand in a showy, Sentai hero kind of way.

“First, you gain enlightenment regarding the ways of qi gong, the art of gaining subconscious and conscious control of ch'i. The universal life force, the truth behind all wushu,”

As the Old Man's hands traveled in the air slowly, it left behind afterimages of themselves, like how Bruce Lee did in one of his movies. Except, there was no special effect applied here.

“Second, you remold and strengthen your frail flesh via combination of potent medicines and basic martial art forms. This shall lay the foundation down for the higher tier, the natural next step in your journey towards becoming a master. When you can do this, with your eyes closed. Hmph!!”

The Old Man's hands coiled into tightly held fists which tucked neatly into his sides. Then he swept one leg out forward, the other bending low.

With a snort, he punched out, his body unmoving. It looked simple, innocuous, even.

Yet, when the fist flung out, it caused a sharp, explosive sound to wring out, and a cold blast of air slapped Kain square in the face.

That wasn't the end.

The Old Man continuously punched out. Each of the fists caused a minor explosion every time he struck out, causing the entire dining hall, the fort and perhaps even the entire forest to tremble in shock and awe, including Kain.

“When you arrive at the Pinnacle, then I shall pass on the knowledge of Heavenly Northern God technique. By mastering this school of martial arts, you shall attain the godhood that will let you survive the onslaught of the false gods in the future.”

He stopped punching and instead, began to form a series of elaborate stances in a seemingly languid manner. But each of his movements were punctuated with decisiveness so sharp, it could cleave the air clean without even trying.

The city's trembling seemed to increase as if it was busy applauding the Old Man. Even Kain's hearts palpitated uncontrollably, as he sensed the ch'i writhing and coiling around the Old Man, in him, in the surroundings, in everything he could sense and see and hear and feel and taste.

He couldn't see it like Aeterna's flow, but still, he was moved by the experience.

Somehow, by seeing this demonstration, he thought he could recall a tiny bit of the moment when he was enveloped in that incredible surge of power. He could almost recall what it was like, totally at one with the almighty power that could sever the very fabric of reality with a wave of a hand.

Salivating, Kain nodded eagerly. “Alright. I'll do my best. No, I'll exceed that. I'll surprise you, Old Man. You just wait and see.”

The Old Man nodded and stood straight up. As he did so, the ch'i scattered and dissipated, leaving behind a void of sorts. As if to mend it, Aeterna swirled around like bits of paint on a painter's mixing board, the faint colors bending and shifting. It was pretty as hell.

As Kain was lost in thought, the Old Man walked closer and smacked the boy in the head.

“Ouch!! Hey, what was that for?!”

Kain rubbed his head, nearly crying from the stinging pain.

“Didn't I tell you to call me shifu? What the frack is this Old Man crap?!”

Oops, that slipped out, huh, Kain grinned wryly. Turning around, he made up some excuse on the spot. “Well, as you say, I'm a fool. So, uh, I forgot. Besides, you never told me your name, you know.”

“Just call me shifu. Simple. Names are unimportant to me.”

Tch, fine. Kain grumbled inwardly. His head still stung from the blow, so rubbed it for a bit longer.

The Old Man hovered behind Kain, as if he was studying a new specimen or some such. He oohed and aahed, raising his eyebrow once in a while too. All in all, it was rather disconcerting.

“What are you doing now?!” Kain complained loudly.

“Be still. I'm studying your meridians and the flow of ch'i in your body. So, silence.”

Kain pouted but remained still as told. It took a few more minutes before the Old Man was finished with his examination.

“Hmm. It's better than before, but still, there are ways to go. Tell me boy, how much ch'i can you sense, for example, in me? Or in the air?”

Kain tilted his head, his brows furrowed. “Uhm, I guess.... not much?”

The Old Man nodded. “Well, it's to be expected. This rate of growth is actually commendable. Hmm. Judging by the amount of ch'i accumulated in your three dan tians, Shang in the middle of your forehead, Zhong, near your heart, and Xia, in your lower abdomen, I can perhaps teach you this bit before I go.”

More Chinese gibberish, huh. Kain scratched his head in confusion. He had virtually no idea what the Old Man was talking about. What was a dan tian? What was that Sanbao? These things called Zhongs and Xias – if he didn't know better, he'd assume they were the names of some second-class Power Rangers villains.

Seeing the confusion shining brightly in Kain's eyes, the Old Man sighed dejectedly. “Are you worried about all these technical terms? Don't be. It really doesn't matter to you at this stage anyway. Just remember the words, the locations of the dan tians, and that is all.”

“What is a dan tian anyway? I've never heard of it before, not even in a kung fu movie.”

“A dan tian is a meditative focal point within a person's body. Simply put, those three places are where you store and begin the circulation of ch'i. There aren't any physical organs or anything like that, but.... oh, right. You can wield Aeterna, no? That means you possess an Aeterna Pool. Yes, think of a dan tian as something similar to that.”

Kain nodded, feeling like he had understood just a bit from all that.

The Old Man continued in the meantime.

“A fully developed Shang will help you with your faculties – quicker thinking, clearer minds, easy to memorize and recall. A fully developed Zhong will ensure you'll control ch'i in the most efficient or explosive manner, as your heart desires. Also, your control will become finer and smoother. Finally, with a fully developed Xia, you will be able to store a heck of a lot of ch'i. Enough to move mountains, if you are so inclined.”

Kain nodded again, this time slightly more impressed than before.

“Developing all three of them at the similar rate is going to be a real challenge. But in order to remold you into a false god-slaying being, it is a necessary hardship to endure.”

The Old Man slapped the back of Kain as he said so. It was a rare display of friendliness from him, taking the boy a bit to recover from the shock.

Before he could say a thing, the Old Man was already heading towards the exit of the dining hall. “Hurry up, brat. We haven't got all day.”

Kain chuckled to himself at that. The friendly gesture was probably done unconsciously, and was likely never to be repeated again. So, it was not worth mulling over, after all.

Once the two of them came out to the front yard of the fort, the Old Man rolled up his sleeves and beckoned Kain.

“Watch closely, and try to use your senses to decipher the flow of ch'i. Understand?”

The Old Man then punched out again. But this time, it was slow, as if he was throwing it under water. There was no destructive shockwave generated from the punch either.

However, when his arm was fully outstretched, there was a loud boom. The air in front of where the fist struck, exploded like a small bomb.

“Huh?!” Kain exclaimed in surprise. It was only for a short moment, but he thought he saw how ch'i moved in that moment before the air exploded.

“Again,” said the Old Man as he threw another slow punch. Which was again, accompanied by that explosion.

After repeating that couple more times, then he kicked forward. Each of his outstretched kicks caused the exact same explosions of air.

Kain's eyes gleamed from a sliver of understanding he had acquired from watching the movements.

“Wow. That is pretty cool,” Kain beamed and praised the technique shown by the Old Man. “What is that move called, uh, shifu?”

“It's named the Soul Crusher. This technique is at the pinnacle of controlling ch'i to its most minute amount. When you master it, then performing it via various parts of your body becomes possible, turning you into an invincible warrior.”

Soul Crusher?! Kain couldn't help but make a weird face after hearing the name. Being able to fire it off however he wanted to sounded nice, but it was proving difficult to get past that rather lame name for some reason.

“A Soul Crusher is not only meant to injure your opponents, but to actually crush their fighting spirits as well by demonstrating your fierce willpower. Putting a dent in their confidence, in other words.”

The Old Man threw a single, super-fast punch, and the air boomed loudly. It wasn't as scintillating as the time he demonstrated his abilities just a few minutes ago, but Kain felt like this was something he could actually do with a bit of training.

The Old Man then picked up a debris the size of an adult's head. He lightly chucked it up in the air, and as it descended he struck it with a Soul Crusher.

Suffice to say, the rock disintegrated into fine powder.

“The trick is to know how much ch'i you need to expand with each strike. Too little, then it's a waste of time. Too much, and you might end up hurting yourself more than you hurt your opponents.” The Old Man dusted his robe nonchalantly as he spoke. “Now, meditate what you've learned. Ingrain it in your heart. More than anything else, continue to practice the meditation technique diligently as that will help you to control ch'i flow within your body.”

Kain tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean, getting hurt by ch'i? Is there a backlash if I'm not careful? Like when failing to perform an Invocation spell?”

The Old Man flicked the last bit of dust off of him and turned to look at Kain with serious eyes. “Your body is a container for ch'i. However, that does not mean your body is indestructible from it. If you overexert yourself, push past your limits carelessly, then as a consequence, your body will suffer damage. Yes, a backlash, as you have put it. It can even cripple you if your body, the container of ch'i, is weak. No need to even mention how important the control of ch'i is, either.”

Kain wasn't convinced by the Old Man's explanation. Sure, he was the expert so what he said was most likely correct, but in his mind, he was wondering why this was so. Wouldn't one's ch'i, uh, cultivation, run parallel to one's physical growth? Like, as one piled up more awesome muscles, the more ch'i one gets to accumulate? Kinda like how it was with the characters from that Japanese anime series about seven amber crystal balls with stars inside....

He got the point on the need for an exacting control over ch'i usage, as that was not too dissimilar to the idea of wielding Aeterna. But as for the body....

Hmm, maybe it's exactly like that. An Invoker, a top class one at that, is usually really buff. Like that Ahres dude. Even mom is like that, really fit and strong. And never mind uncle Derrick – he's a fitness freak, that guy. So, following that logic, I can't wield a lot of ch'i if I'm not physically fit enough, is that right?

Kain nodded with a flash of understanding. He was gaining little bits of so-called enlightenment, however small they were.

He looked at his right fist for a moment, imagining sending a bit of ch'i to it from his lowest dan tian, Xia.

He kind of felt ch'i circulating in his fist. It tickled a bit, like as if there was a mosquito sitting on his skin.

He then mindlessly punched out with the fist, simulating what the Old Man did. Of course, there was a deep frown on the Old Man's face. He immediately tried to stop Kain, but it was too late.

There was a soft sound of Peng, followed by the pained cry from Kain's mouth.

His hand was mangled, blood spurting out of torn skin. The meat underneath was shredded as if he had stuck his hand in a blender. It looked rather horrible.

“You fool!! What the frack are you trying to do? To cripple yourself?! Damn it all!!”

The Old Man hurriedly wrapped the boy's damaged hand and began injecting some of his own ch'i into the messed up flesh which could stem the flow of blood to a degree. He had to be careful, though – lest he end up sealing the wound by mistake and leaving Kain with a damaged hand for life.

By the look of it, it'd need a good few months of intense healing to avoid it becoming completely unrecoverable. This was a bad news.

The Old Man originally was planning to leave the Tetamus forest for two reasons – one was to locate his old treasures, now scattered around the continent due to one event or the other, as well as to find rare medicinal herbs to aid Kain's development.

The second was to investigate the disturbance of the fabric of this Realm he sensed a few hours ago. It felt like something that didn't belong to this world had invaded here. The presence didn't seem too large or all that powerful, but if it came to find this boy, then it paid to be cautious.

But now, with this idiot injuring his hand this badly, he had to delay things. As it was said before, this was a bad news.

The Old Man grimly looked up, and sent out a tiny ripple of Yi Hai out. He could still sense that disturbance towards the city of Lafayette, circling around like a bird of prey.

Hmph, so it is what I suspected. Well, the One Tree's influence will mask our activities for the time being, but I need to act quickly.

He looked back down at Kain, whose face was turning pale real quick due to the loss of large quantity of blood. He was barely holding on, terrified but now gaining more understanding of how things worked when it came to the ch'i-related business.

Clicking his tongue, the Old Man called out to his Familiar, Orion, via Yi Hai.

“Bring me the first aid kit, and call Embouchre. She'll know the necessary medicinal herbs to treat this kind of injury.”

Then he sent a bit more of his ch'i into Kain's meridians. Chuckling wryly, he softly whispered.

“Idiot disciple of mine. Hopefully, from this mistake you have learned to listen to this old man.”

His words didn't reach Kain's brain. He was far too busy fighting off the crazy amount of pain as well as the fear of losing his hand. He saw how desperate Damien was after he lost his arm. That was something Kain definitely wanted to avoid at all cost.

Here's the new chapter. A bit late, due to circumstances. Oh well.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 34

34​

While Kain had his hand nearly blown off, his father was waiting in a hallway of the Lomax mansion, slowly pacing up and down the crowded corridor.

As promised, he came to see his brother, Dukakis. He was in the office today, although there was a constant stream of important looking men entering and exiting the said office. Damien had to wait until there was a break before he could speak to his own flesh and blood. Kinda felt like he was waiting to speak to his father back when he was still living in this house, with his father enjoying robust health.

So, like father, like son, then.

Besides that, though....

Damien couldn't help but cover his mouth and yawn. He did his best to do it discreetly.

See, the thing was, he had to turn in pretty late the night before. Obviously, Damien couldn't have foreseen that a seemingly innocuous money collecting request would morph into something infinitely more troublesome.

One of those men got him pretty good. There was a stinging reminder to his right ribcage left behind by the bandits for hire. That's what their job descriptions were – hired by merchants to sabotage a rival's operations. Pretty classy, sarcastically speaking. Nothing was broken, at least as far as he could tell, but regardless, this was the result of getting way too excited for his own health. He properly reflected upon it.

Still, what he was told from the mouths of those fools troubled him greatly. To think, his son's murderers were of such complicated origins...

To make matters even worse, the adjutant from the night before was absent today. According to Dukakis's personal butler who was acting as a stand-in, this absence was quite sudden and unexplainable. Apparently, the missing man was a hard worker who managed to never miss a day. And that was including the national holidays and even his own wedding.

As much as Damien tried not to care, he wondered whether it was his fault for the poor sob not coming in for work today. He swore not to get involved here but, if he was indeed responsible for some of the guilt, then....

Then, nothing. He had a bigger, tougher fish to fry at the moment to worry about a stranger. As heartless as it might seem, that was the truth. Not a thing he could do about it to change the fact.

“He's ready to see you now, Young Master,” said Dukakis's personal butler, Jennings. He was immaculately groomed, as was the case with all the highly experienced butlers of the world were, but Damien detected a hint of tiredness in his eyes.

Jennings was doing his best to keep up with the demands of the commander of the local garrison but seeing that he lacked knowledge in the matters of the armed forces and their particulars, he was clearly struggling.

He had half a mind to ask Cassius to lend a hand but that wouldn't change things for the better as the old butler was just about the same as well. Two old men running around flustered and out of their depths would only increase Dukakis's already considerable headaches, so Damien didn't suggest it.

“Thank you, Jennings,” Damien nodded and entered the Count's office.

Inside the wide open space, a pair of humongous bookshelves extending all the way to the ceiling stood on both of the walls, filled to the brim with books, both arcane and new.

On four corners, tall potted plants of unknown origins emanating green glow, all the while oozing out pleasant and soothing scents.

And in the middle, a huge desk that easily dwarfed the one back in Riverfield, its top strewn with parchments and half-open scrolls in various guises.

There were three brown-colored communication crystals of different sizes located in the office as well, with the two of them currently in use.

The smallest one was connected to the Captain of the local garrison's quarters, and his tense face was projected just above it. He was in the midst of giving an in-depth report.

The medium sized crystal was projecting an image of a short-statured and heavily-armored woman who had a face of someone too young to wear such a fierce-looking things on her. She was speaking and listening to the man behind the desk.

And that man, was Damien's elder brother, Dukakis. And they looked almost exactly alike. Except for Damien being a bit shorter of height and hair length, as well as Dukakis being narrower of shoulders and also a bit paler due to a lack of sun, they could even be called twins.

Maybe this isn't such a good time, after all, mused Damien silently, seeing this scene in front of him. Dukakis, however, saw his brother's entrance and nodded his welcome.

The woman's face in the projection looked somber as she listened to the captain's report, but as soon as she saw Damien it brightened up, showing a wide smile.

“Damien!! You've come!!” The woman shouted, but the projection's ability to transmit the loud sound was limited and it ended up sounding garbled instead. Still, her joy at seeing her younger brother was clearly transmitted through no problem.

There were seven other uniformed and armored men in the office beside Dukakis as well. Before his sister's outburst, only those closest to the door noticed Damien's entry, but now, all eyes were on him.

“Hello, brother, sis” Damien nodded at Dukakis and then at the projection of his sister.

The older Lomax smiled thinly, before resuming the conference with the Captain's projection. “Do carry on, captain.”

“Yes, my lord. Ahem. Yes, the systemic reconnaissance of the 3rd quadrant has yielded negative results. According to the gathered intel, the enemy combatants have relocated their base of operations to another sector. Please advise.”

Dukakis grimly frowned as if the weight of the world was weighing down on him. “Continue with the search, captain. We need to completely rout them for the sake of our city and its citizens. Post men around the predetermined strategic points in the quadrant as scheduled, and please report afterward.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The garrison captain's image flickered and then dissipated like a rising smoke, a small sundial-like disk below the brown crystal rotating automatically until the needle stopped on the spot marked '0'. Dukakis then turned to the image of his sister.

“Donna, if you would.”

“Right, alrighty. I'm currently camped out near the village of Gomah-on-Bent and have encountered three groups of Barbarian idiots so far. Just like before, each group is no more than a dozen or so. I still think there's a hall in a wall somewhere, Dukakis. I really think it's high time you send someone, preferably me, to check out the borders.”

Donna's voice eerily buzzed out of the badly synched projection of hers. Still, her words were crystal clear. The military hardmen present inside the office murmured to each other and began to offer their own take on the situation.

Damien patiently waited for the conference to end, all the while his eyes surveyed some of the open scrolls carelessly strewn about on the huge desk.

One particular parchment attracted his attention. It was half unfurled, revealing a crest on top, but the content itself was obscured from his view. He was too far to get a good look at it, however.

“Donna, stay on course. We've reports of Barbarians disguising as bandits and performing raids all over the area you are in. We need to find them before the damage spreads too far. As for the borders, I already have made arrangements. So do not mind it.”

Dukakis took in all the recommendations from his advisers and then began handing out his orders. Donatella wasn't happy, but she nodded her head, and then she looked at Damien.

“Hey, little bro. Don't you run away before I get back home, you hear? You've got a lot of things to answer for, you know?! I'm gonna make sure you tell me EVERYTHING!!!”

Damien smiled weakly and scratched the back of his head. “Oh, come one, Donna. I don't know if I'll be here until then. But do take your time out there. I mean, we need you to do a thorough job, right? And not let any enemies slip through the cracks. Well, good luck, sis.”

“Hah!! Whatever, Damien. But wait for me, alright?”

Then her image flickered away. Like before, a small sundial, this time embedded into a pedestal below the large crystal, rotated as well until coming to a rest at '0'.

Dukakis ended the conference, but the truth was his work would never end. He sent his advisers out to do their respective jobs, which left Damien alone in the office with his older brother whom he hadn't seen in a decade. Sure, there were exchanges of official letters in the past, but this was indeed, the first face to face after Damien had left home.

“You look good, considering,” Dukakis smiled bitterly. The expression wasn't of malice, though. It was more like.... him unable to think of something brotherly and welcoming to say, so simply improvised on the spot.

“Yeah, well. You too, Dukakis.”

Damien returned a similar sort of cramped smile that didn't carry any ill intentions.

“I heard that you spoke with father. I'm assuming that didn't go smoothly?”

Damien genuinely chuckled at that. “As much as you can imagine. No, he's still a bastard, that one.”

“Look, Damien. Regardless of what he is, what he did, he is still our father. At least.... At least let us keep some decorum and address him in proper manners.”

Damien wanted to disagree, but then he saw his brother's tired face and shut his mouth up. Instead, he chose to simply nod his consent.

“What is wrong with him, anyway? Is it an illness? Or something else?”

Damien asked about the condition of their father. Although he did not care for that man's condition, still he found himself wondering about it in the end.

“It's a combination of poison and the complication from the treatment. It was the Barbarian agents spiking father's drink. The antidote was easy enough to procure but the side effects were severe. And the result of all that, it's clear to see, isn't it.”

Dukakis sighed, massaging his temples slightly.

His curiosity somewhat satisfied, Damien moved on. “And what about this Barbarian situation? How did it become this bad?”

Dukakis reached out to a large wooden box on the corner of his desk. Opening the lid, he fetched an ornately decorated smoking pipe carved out from a bone of a powerful Fiend. He went through the ritual of stuffing the end with tobacco then lit it with a small ball of flames which he created with an Invocation spell.

Breathing in deeply the resulting smoke, Dukakis slowly leaned back and spoke. “The rumor has it that a few months ago, three of the most influential tribes beyond the borders went to war against one another. A three-way melee, as it were. Don't really know the reason, but it became a free-for-all very quickly. A bloody nightmare, is what it is. As you well know, there isn't a central governing body with the Barbarians, so it became an utter chaos up there.”

Damien silently listened, slightly perturbed at the information. Again, this was new to him.

After taking in another deep smoke, Dukakis continued. “One of the tribes involved in this mess is Northern Lepudia. From what the intelligence officers have gathered, that tribe is this close to being wiped out, their Tribal Mystic Totem in danger of something called A Corruption.”

“I think I know what that is,” Damien spoke when he detected Dukakis wanting a little break in explanation. “A Tribal Mystic Totem is a sacred artifact passed down to the heirs of the chieftain, isn't it? It's supposed to be a representation of the Soul of the tribe. A Corruption only means that it's close to being destroyed by the outside influences.”

Dukakis nodded. “That's what I heard as well. As expected, you knew already, huh.”

“Well, yeah. It's something forced down on me, so....” Damien shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“The surviving members of the Northern Lepudia tribesmen have scattered all over. Some have tried to claim asylum in my city, so far none have been granted. However, there were a few that have slipped past the border control.”

“I see. But I can't see how disrupting the peace of Marlborough could help them,” Damien narrowed his eyes. “Is there something else?”

Dukakis nodded. “Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Out of the three-way melee, the Tigris tribe gained a lot of power. However, the Tribal Mystic Totem of Lepudia tribe is missing, presumed smuggled out of the tribe's safekeeping. Also presumed to be south of the national border. Even worse.... Tigris think father granted an asylum to the ones in possession of the said Totem.”

“Oh, I see where this is going,” Damien groaned.

In order to completely defeat an enemy tribe, the tradition among the Barbarians was to destroy the Tribal Mystic Totem. If not, it meant that the spirit of the tribe lived on and thus could rise up again in the future.

So if the Lepudia tribe's Totem wasn't destroyed, then that means no matter how Tigris claim the victory, it'd be not acknowledged by the other tribes in the area.

Dukakis exhaled the bluish smoke after sucking on the pipe. “The Tigris thinks father is shielding the Lepudia's Totem, since he did limited amount trading with them in the past. They want it out in the open so they can destroy it and claim the unconditional victory.”

“But knowing father, he did not grant an asylum. And we have no idea where the Totem or its holders are hiding.”

“Correct,” Dukakis smiled wryly. “But it's not like the Barbarians to trust the words of us Imperials. We've been fighting them for the last five hundred years, so it's obvious they wouldn't believe our words.”

“I'm guessing that the reason for targeting the local nobles is to force your hand to negotiate for the peace at the price of the Totem's whereabouts.”

“Yes, that's what the messenger said.” Dukakis sighed, shaking his head. “The one who poisoned father left behind a letter demanding the reveal of the Totem and its holder, the granddaughter of the Lepudia Chieftain.”

“Oh, boy. Alright. I get it now. But why haven't you contacted the Capital? When I stopped by there earlier on, the news of this situation hadn't reached the ears of the populace. Surely, you could have called for an assistance.”

“It's more complicated then that.”

Dukakis carried a grim expression as he opened a drawer, producing a missive. Damien immediately recognized it. After all, as a baron and the lord of Riverfield, he had seen in many times before as well.

It was the Imperial Decree, hand delivered by the Imperial Couriers and signed by the highest authority in the nation – the Emperor himself.

Damien opened the missive and pored through it. As he read the contents, his face lost color. “Is this for real?!”

Dukakis formed a fist and gritted his teeth. “Yes, yes it is.”

The missive wasn't signed by the Emperor, but one of the princes who was in line for the throne.

The contents speak of changing the lord of Marlborough to another family altogether, for a reason of incompetence in part of Caleb's failure to secure a proper heir to his title.

Apparently, Dukakis wasn't an officially recognized heir even though he was the eldest child, because Caleb had failed to declare it so.

This meant that in the event of Caleb's passing, the peerage of Count Lucius Lomax would become vacant. Damien was not eligible due to having his own peerage of Baron.

Using this as a pretext, a faction of nobles currying for a favor in the Imperial succession race, saw an opportunity to increase their influence in one of the most strategically important provinces in the whole of the Empire, plotted against Caleb, and was trying to evict the Lucius Lomax out of Marlborough. This much wasn't stated in the missive, of course. It'd be something Damien would learn of much later.

Having this mess of Barbarians would only compound the matters further and give ammunition to these bastards.

Damien's face was quite ugly at the moment. Not that he cared for who might be lord of this city, no, but of the future of his siblings. If Caleb didn't pass the peerage, then both Dukakis and Donatella would be no better than commoners without a home as the nobles would be able to take the city away.

Yes, Damien could take in both of them in his capacity as a Baron, but that would have its own downside as well.

This wouldn't even be an issue if Caleb would just recognize either Dukakis or Donatella as the heir to his title. But that stubborn old fool hadn't.

“Does father know this?” Damien asked, almost crumpling the missive in his clenched fist.

“Yes. And guess how he reacted? He went quite ballistic. But still, he didn't even want to talk about the solution to the problem.”

Dukakis took in another deep breath of the tobacco. He looked philosophical as he spoke the next words out. “Sometimes, I wonder. I wonder what it would have been like if you never left home. That you stayed behind and became the next Count.”

“Dukakis...” Damien murmured weakly.

“Could I have been the painter that I always wanted to become? I was getting really good as well. My tutor had praised my talents more than once, you see. I even had the recommendations to enter the Imperial Atelier as an apprentice.” Dukakis's eyes were distant as if he was reminiscing about the past. “I still paint, occasionally. Not lately, however. As you can see, can't seem to find the time.”

Damien didn't say anything, just quietly studied his brother's face for a while. Finally, he spoke his mind as well. “Dukakis. You know why I left. Looking back, it was not a correct choice, I admit. However, I don't have any regrets. Because I left, I was able to live a life of my own, away from father. I met Liz, I have a family with her, a home in a warm climate, have.... had, a son and still have a daughter.”

“Yes, you have lived a good life, so far.... No, that's not quite right, is it. Yes, I heard you lost your arm as well as your son under tragic circumstances. It is belated, but my condolences.”

Dukakis's voice was pained. There was not a single hint of sarcasm in it but somehow, Damien felt there were hidden barbs in the way his brother spoke those words.

“Do you blame me for.... this, your current life?” Damien asked slowly the one question he wanted to ask his brother. A question that burned in his mind ever since.... well, ever since he abandoned home and became an Adventurer.

“Blame you? I admit that, in the beginning, I did. Father was always abusive towards us, especially so after mother passed on. But when you left, he shut us, Donna and I, out completely. It was like we didn't even exist anymore. So, yes, I did blame you for my suffering.”

Dukakis sighed again, this time even more weakly. Then, abruptly, he stood up and headed for the window. He pushed the heavy, mulberry-colored drapes out of the way and opened the windows to let the fresh air in. He then took a long breath of the pipe.

“Now, though? No, I don't blame you. You were smart and courageous enough to seek your own fate. I, on the other hand, couldn't because I was weaker than you. And during my time here, in this seat, I'd like to believe that I have done good things for the people of this city, for this territory as a whole. So, no. I no longer blame you for my position. Can't speak for Donna's feelings, however. But knowing her, well, I'm sure she's the same as I.”

As Dukakis leaned against the window sill, a chilly wind entered the office, and the documents on the desk fluttered. An awkward silence pervaded the office, turning the mood rather gloomy. Frowning, Damien searched for a different subject to break the insufferable atmosphere, only to have his attention involuntarily land on one of the open parchment that was the closest to him. It was the very same one he had noticed while waiting for the conference to end earlier on.

Now that he was closer, the emblem on the top of the parchment was clear – that of a mountain and a pair of new moons on either side of it. There was a line of words written below it.

It said “West & Brooks.”

Seeing this, Damien's face became ugly once more. Because it brought him the memories of the night before when he interrogated the quartet of thieves-for-hire.

The info he learned then made him nearly lose out all his strength, all his drive for vengeance. Because it turned out that Westbrooks wasn't a person. It wasn't even a proper name, per se, as it was actually West & Brooks.

No, rather than a single person, it was a name of a Young Entrepreneurs' Association based out of the Western Reaches featuring tens of members. Meaning, there were lots of potential suspects for Damien to investigate.

How could a reliable information broker like Mikael mess up so badly? It could only mean one of two things. Either that he was deliberately fed false info, or he fed Damien wrong info on purpose.

However, the second scenario was unlikely – Mikael knew Damien well enough to understand that such a tactic was useless. Besides, there didn't seem like a good enough reason to get on Damien's bad side like this.

So, that only left one possibility behind, which was of the spreading of the deliberate misinformation by the members of the said organization. As to why they would go to such a troublesome length of subterfuge, Damien could only speculate, but whatever the case maybe, it wouldn't be because of a nice, heart warming intention.

Damien picked the scroll up and pored through the contents. It wasn't anything special – just that, it simply talked about potential investors wishing to join the collective cooperation laid down by Dukakis and the representatives of West & Brooks.

“Hmm? Oh, that?” Dukakis noticed Damien reading the parchment and spoke amiably. “That's one of the good things I've done for the city's wealth over the years, working with those men. Thanks to the trade agreement, during the last fiscal year we recorded the very first surplus in decades.”

“....Congratulations,” Damien smiled, trying to disguise the uneasiness bubbling in his mind. “When did this organization contact you for an agreement?”

“Actually, it was one of the local merchants who suggested we should work alongside West & Brooks. It took a bit of negotiation, but in the end, the gains for the both sides are substantial. As for how long.... I guess, it's been six, six and a half years? That sounds about right.”

That long, huh. Damien muttered inwardly. “What do they do, exactly? I've never heard of these people up until now.”

“Basically, it's an amalgam of various children of nobles who might not get to inherit the peerage due to their circumstances. So, you would find merchants, architects, engineers, even Invokers among its membership. Their aim is to provide more than an adequate financial and political base for the members and friends alike.”

Damien nodded, still poker-faced. “Good to hear that these people are helping the city out. But with the things as it is, how are they taking it so far?”

“Oh, they have been a godsend,” Dukakis chuckled happily. “They have somehow managed to keep any unnecessary information from leaking out to the Capital. And of the little bit that did, they have spun a nice tale to go with it as well. Then, there is the procurement of emergency supplies, as well as the extra combat personnel and equipment to go along with them.”

Hearing this, Damien couldn't help but let a small, complicated expression escape. Quickly reigning in his worries, he asked again. “A good ally to have in this time of need, I guess. I wonder if I could entice them into considering having a working relationship with Riverfield too.”

Dukakis brightened up. “Well, I could introduce some people. You could have a chat and see what they have to say.”

Damien's eyes sharpened slightly at the turn of the events. “Mm. That could work.”

“Then, it's settled. But you'll have to wait a bit for a meeting, unfortunately. None of West & Brooks's high ranking members are in the city at the moment – with the situation as it is, most of them have evacuated from here, waiting for a favorable news.”

“Oh? Then how should we contact them?”

“I'll let them know of your intentions via the communication crystal. But first, we need to rid my city of these Barbarian bastards. And then, we can arrange for a proper meet & greet.”

Damien slightly tilted his head. “Wait, you want me to lend a help? Is that it? My services don't come cheap, you know. Just because you're my brother, that doesn't mean I'll discount my usual rate for you.”

Dukakis laughed softly and returned to his seat. Shaking his head with a wry smile etched in his face, he opened another drawer in the desk and produced a request form. “Here, take this and register it in the Association or whatever it is you Adventurers do. Now, get out of here, brother. I got work to do.”

“You even had one of these prepared, just in case? Dukakis, I wasn't aware that you could be so.... insightful,” Damien remarked in jest as he took the form and scanned it quickly. “Alright. I'll see what I can do to help.... but, I do have another errand to run in the city. Hopefully, the two won't clash with each other, much.”

After saying the temporary goodbyes, Damien walked out of the office and met up with Cassius. He offered light lunch which Damien obviously accepted – if he could save even a single Bronze coin, that he'd take it. This also meant that he stayed in the mansion for a longer time than he had originally planned to do.

Not once did he run into his father. Damien didn't care too much about it, though. He had much bigger, more important fish to fry to worry about his old man's feelings.

No, he was looking forward to having a meeting with these West & Brooks bastards and see what's what. This turn of events was something Damien was thinking of ever since he learned of the identity, or identities, of his targets. So far, his plan was sailing along fairly well.

~​

“Basically, this is what they have said to me.”

In a very foul mood, Michelle spoke to Lizbeth and Rosy after dinner. The girls – Katrina, Kaleena – were fast asleep, their tummies full and totally wiped out from another day's intense learning schedule.

Michelle's foul mood originated from a meeting she had with the school's administrator earlier in the day, regarding the children's very ill-advised session with the cold-tempered lecturer, Sonorra, and the subsequent chain of events that followed.

After that day's hellish happenings, Katrina saw fit to report the injustice to her aunt as well as to teacher Michelle in the hopes that the mean lady would never have the pleasure of tormenting them again.

“The school's administrator was apparently pressurized from someone higher up from SOIR's circle of Elders. His hands were tied on that as he was merely following orders. Yes, yes, I called him a spineless coward already, so stay your anger, Lizbeth.”

Lizbeth was about to explode with anger so Michelle quickly raised her hand in front as a gesture to calm her down.

Grumbling, Lizbeth sat back down on the large couch, but her anger hadn't cooled in the slightest. “Who gave out such an order? Surely, a person with a grudge would be behind such a tactless and terrible move.”

“After I finished my little chat with the administrator, I headed to the Central district. Funny thing was, though, none of the old fogies were in the office!! Could you believe it?! What an incredible timing they all seem to possess.”

Michelle fumed equally as hard as her former student. Her words barely could hide the thick sarcasm in her voice, all ready to burst out and go to town with a poor sob who fail to read the atmosphere.

Rosy watched the two woman with a slightly bemused face. She was at a loss as to what to say or do in this case. She was well acquainted with her madam, Lizbeth going all berserk and showing a thing or two to Damien before, but having Michelle here too, made things a tad more complicated.

Only if Delilah was here, Rosy muttered under her breath, wondering if she should get out of here before something bad happens.

“I met a few other concerned mothers there to make a complaint while in the Central district,” continued Michelle under her breath. “They were all wives of prominent folks in the Capital!! And it was quite clear to me that the old fogies have totally let go of their senses, offending that many people. Yes, as SOIR members such things don't really concern us, but heck, these kids are the future of our organization!! How would they think and act once they achieve adulthood? I shudder to think just what kind of idiotic thoughts were running amok in their brains to give out such an order!!”

“I should imagine!! Even I was up in arms regarding the terrible treatment my daughter and Katrina had received. If it wasn't your advice to stay home and do research, I would have accompanied you to the administrator's door and knock some sense into him!!”

Lizbeth harrumphed angrily, Aeterna flaring around her like a coiling snake ready pounce on a prey.

As the two women tattled on, pouring out their mutual anger, Rosy noticed a presence nearing the residence's doorsteps.

The presence itself didn't try to mask its approach, leading her to believe it wasn't a hostile one. “Madam, Miss Michelle, we have a visitor. I'll go see who it might be.”

Rosy spoke briskly and stood up, neatly bounding towards the front door. The night had deepened and only the soft and distant lights lit the dim streets. There was a lamp hanging just above the front door, illuminating the late night visitor's countenance.

A lone gentleman in late fifties stood there, waiting. He held a simple black cane, a black top hat and a three-piece black suit and a robe combo. He oozed a sophisticated air of an aristocrat and that of a powerful Invoker. Not to mention he had a restrained elegance of a debonair lady's man.

As soon as he saw Rosy and her twitching whiskers, he smiled softly. “I'd like to speak to Master Michelle Banovsky. Tell her it's Master Omar Malick, young lady.”

“No need, Rosy,” said Michelle as she peered around the young Pantherikin girl. “Master Omar, what brings you to my abode this late in the day? Surely, I'm too old for your tastes by now.”

Omar Malick chuckled warmly. “Your wit always had a stinging barb attached to it, Michelle. May I come in and have a word with you? It's regarding the unfortunate situation with the children under your care.”

Michelle raised one eyebrow, before welcoming him in the house.

When Omar saw Lizbeth, his eyes gleamed brightly for a second before he smiled amiably and introduced himself.

“It's an honor to meet you, Lady Lizbeth. This here is but a humble servant of SOIR, Master Omar Malick the Third. I am with the Central district and my job is to see to the Academy's fiscal administrative duties.”

Lizbeth nodded, knowing how important a person this Omar was. After all, he was basically saying that he was the one who decided where the considerable wealth of SOIR went to.

Rosy was asked to prepare a set of tea but Omar politely refused it, before turning towards the two women to explain just what the hell was going on at the moment.

“I don't have much time to describe in detail, so I shall be brief. Basically, your children have been caught up in a very nasty power struggle between two factions,” said Omar. “To this side, you have the Queen's faction featuring her direct family members and retainers. And to the opposite side, you have Emperor's own siblings having other ideas.”

“So, what does that got to do with our little classroom?” Michelle asked irritably.

“It is not a well-known fact but, among the children in your particular class is one with a Royal blood in him. Not a direct descendant, no, but reasonably close to the top of the pile if a handful of heirs keel over inexplicably out of the blue.” Omar smiled thinly. “SOIR is supposed to be removed from the struggles and all the politicking of the Capital, but you know that's just a distant dream. No. Our Grand Elders are very much invested in which way the needle of the future swings to.”

“So, I presume the one responsible for that order was related to the Queen's faction, then?” Lizbeth asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Quite correct, my lady. Such an order serves two purposes – one is to retard the possible progress of the boy in question. After all, he is a tremendously talented child. Top of his generation if it weren't for Kaleena's sudden entrance. If he were to rise to prominence on the back of his Invocational talent, you can bet your house that Emperor's siblings would use that to push forward their own agenda.”

“Hmm. I understand,” Michelle nodded. “And for the second purpose, let me guess – the Queen's faction does not wish for Kaleena to form a bond with this boy, no? By turning her into a villain of sorts in the eyes of impressionable kids early on they don't have to fear a potential One Sorcerer becoming an enemy to their cause. Am I on the right track so far?”

Omar chuckled. “Quite. Well, it seems my errand here is almost complete. Now, I came here to offer an opportunity – an opportunity to change the school to another one where the chances of harassment should be lower. It is within my powers after all.”

Michelle waved her hand before anyone could say anything further. “Which one of the Grand Elders is leaning towards the Queen's faction?”

Omar had a slightly calculating smile on his lips as he answered. “Not even I can tell you that, Master Michelle. But, as you rightly suspect, not all the Elders see things the same way. There are those who disagree with pandering to the factions. If you're planning to appeal to them, well, good luck to you. My offer to change the school shall remain on the table in the meantime.”

Omar left after that. He was very courteous towards the three ladies to the end, all handsome smiles and manners that could have charmed the underpants off many an unwary lady of the Capital.

Not Lizbeth and Michelle, though. They were too busy digesting the information they just had received.

“What do you think, teacher?” asked Lizbeth as she sat back down on the couch. She slowly rubbed her belly, which had begun to show a smallest of small bumps.

“Hmm. Lemme talk to a friend of mine in the circle of Grand Elder first, see where that takes me. Andrea L. Pressario is the best possible place for both the education and the safety of our children, so if we can manage to avoid another one of those factional infighting spilling over somehow, then I would like them to remain where they are.”

Hearing this Lizbeth nodded her consent. “I agree as well. I remember wanting to go to Pressario myself when I was schooling here. This time period should prove to be an excellent opportunity for both of the girls. Let us ensure it remains so, regardless of whatever nonsense the others decide to throw at them.”

The two of them came to a conclusion and decided it was time they should turn in for the night.

Little did they know, the decision taken that evening would have a large ramification way into the future, several years from now.

Alright, a new chapter. Great. What's not so great, is that from today onwards, my output speed will revert back to how it was before pre-Holidays 2016, only slightly faster. Expect a whole chapter every five or so days. Or, if I'm feeling a bit bored, maybe a half chapter in between.

Oh, and as for my creepy avatar... hey, it's not creepy at all!! It's uber cool in my book....

 

Spoiler: Chapter 35

35​

Kain woke from a dreamless sleep with a heavy, groggy head.

The darkened room he found himself in was not his. There was very little light entering through the closed windows, leading him to believe that perhaps, it was nighttime currently. Couldn't tell for sure, though – his vision swam dangerously as he moved his head a bit on the pillow. Felt like he was under some type of sedation, a heavy one at that.

Seriously, his head felt really, really heavy, as if he was drunk on absinthe or something. Unsure of what brought him out of the peaceful slumber, Kain managed to slowly turn his head to see around him.

On the corner of the room, he saw Emma. She sat on a chair, resting her head on the top of a table with a small, lit oil lamp. There was a pool of drool on the table top directly below her mouth, but otherwise, she seemed fine.

Funny, that. After the run-in with the giant red wyrm, she was a nervous wreck who hardly came out of her room in one of the abandoned – or should that be uninhabited? - buildings, shunning all contact with the outside. Admittedly, there weren't too many people to interact in this empty city to begin with, so there was that.

Anyways, she emerged a few days later, sounding as if the past couple of days hadn't happened at all. According to the Old Man, “Let it be.”

So Kain let it be and never asked her what the hell had happened to her.

Currently, that wasn't the most pressing issue, though.

He couldn't really remember how he got here, in this foreign room, sleeping.

Groggily, he sat up and tried to rub his face. That's when he noticed a dull but hard-hitting pain from his right hand. Grimacing in pain, he looked down to see it wrapped tightly in improvised bandages, with bits of plant matter sticking out of the gaps. A thick aroma of medicinal herbs wafted in the air. Even the individual fingers were bandaged and he couldn't even bend one. But never mind that, there were hints of blood stains here and there. Some of it looked old, some looked recent, fresh.

At first, he was genuinely confused. In his groggy mind, this bandaged hand didn't seem like it should be there as if someone played a practical joke on him while he was asleep.

Then the memories flooded in.

He remembered his mangled hand, copious amount of blood oozing out of all the broken skin and muscles. He remembered the indescribable pain and the panic he felt. He even believed that his hand was lost forever.

His grossly destroyed hand reminded him ever so briefly of the bandit raid from all those months ago. He was able to bury those ugly scenes deep in his subconscious, not recalling them until now, but the sight of his injury brought some of it back to the fore.

All in all, he'd rather forcefully suppress those traumatic things out of his mind. He'd successfully gone and done that before, so why the hell not.

He shuddered softly. He took in several deep breaths, trying to settle his mind. However, a sense of heavy, drowsy grogginess assaulted him almost immediately. Funnily enough, that was able to distract him away from the unpleasant memories trying to resurface, forcing his scattered focus to gather on trying to analyze his current status.

The grogginess must be.... from these plants, Kain thought inwardly, as he dazedly sniffed the bandages. Even moving this much took a lot out of him. The pungent and strong smell certainly made things worse with the level of stupor he was trapped in.

He fell back on the bed and stared at his bandaged hand, trying to think back to the moment when it all went to hell. Although his thought process was impaired initially, he found it increasingly easier to recall as he focused harder.

Hmm, what went wrong back then? I thought.... I thought I got everything under control. Oh, right. My body, my flesh, isn't strong enough to contain the explosive power of ch'i. That is the only explanation I can come up with. The ch'i flows inside my body, and when I tried to make the air explode, my fist blew up from inside out.

….

….....Geez, it's a good thing that I didn't have a lot of ch'i to begin with – who knows what would have happened if there was just a bit more? Instead of this mangled piece of hand, I'd probably end up looking like Damien!!

Kain mused bitterly as he raised his right hand high in the air. It looked so small and frail. Seeing this weak limb, he had to admit, he was a moron, getting all conceited and cavalier towards the dangers of his training regime. He could blame no one but himself for his current predicament.

No, wait a sec. It's also that Old Man's fault too – who the hell in the right mind subject a six year old kid to a danger situation like that?!

Kain groaned softly, his anger rising up a little. But soon after, he slung back in the confines of the bed sheets and sighed weakly.

Oh, well. Who am I kidding? He did say I shouldn't try it out just yet. My control of ch'i and body is simply too underdeveloped to allow something as audacious as firing off a Soul Crusher or whatever it's called.

He rolled on his side, trying to get comfy. At the same time, he wondered whether he could get his hand back to how it was, with no loss of mobility. And the sense of touch, too. These thoughts made him realize how important a person's limbs were. No, more accurately, he realized how important, or frail, a human's body was in relation to what it had to go through every day.

Hmm, is there a way to strengthen my body and take less amount of damage somehow?

Kain bit his lower lip, mulling his current options. Growing up fast and building up muscles sounded like the normal thing to do. On top of that, he could ingest lots of medicinal plants just like how it was in those Chinese web novels. In that way, he could become the proverbial Superman, able to withstand the exertion of ch'i manipulation.

Emma could help with 'em plants gathering. Playing to the archetype of an Elf, her extensive knowledge in all things plant-related even surpassed even that of the Old Man, to an extent that he had to rely on her at all times. That said a lot.

Okay, that's what I'll do in the future. But, uh, what about now?!

As he rolled on the bed this way and that, his thoughts got muddled. He was getting drowsy again – the medicines doing its trick.

As his eyelids got heavier, a small lightbulb went off in his head.

Oh, wait a sec. Can't I use Body Enhancement Spell to strengthen my body when trying to use a Soul Crusher?

His mind was fading into a nothingness real fast. The sleep beckoned so sweetly that it was getting nigh on impossible to think at all.

I.... I think it's doable. I should.... I should, uh, try it sometime....

And with that thought, he fell back into another dreamless slumber.

~​

Remarkably, it took only a couple of weeks to completely heal Kain's hand. The potent cocktail of hard-to-pronounce medicinal plants and ch'i related rehabilitation by the Old Man greatly accelerated the treatment process, to a degree that the modern medical science would go green with envy.

Kain had almost 100% of his mobility back in the right hand, and only the occasional phantom pain bothered him a little now and then. But otherwise, it was business as usual.

During the healing process, the Old Man emphasized the ch'i circulation practice. In order to do that, Kain was told to meditate like there was no tomorrow. Which was fine by him, since this activity served a dual purpose.

One of them was the obvious thing of ch'i practice and all that, but the other was to retrain his senses on controlling Aeterna. Ever since he started training under the Old Man, he had to neglect this important part of his arsenal due to either being too fatigued to do it, or not having enough free time on his hands for it.

All of that was just simply an excuse, of course. If he was serious about it, Kain could've found himself time to do it. Now that he was serious, nothing would stop him, not even the Old Man and his insistence on not using Aeterna.

So, Kain didn't tell him of his decision to secretly work on expanding his control over Aeterna as well – all for the goal of perfecting the Body Enhancement spell and casting it over his body.

Now with his hand largely cured, he was ready to give it another go, this time slightly more confident of his chances. The sun was shining, the breeze was chillier than before but still quite pleasant on the skin, and there was a flock of birds flying overhead, chirping and singing. A nice day out, no doubt.

Even better, the Old Man was not around. He said something about a business that could not be delayed any longer and went off to somewhere. Again, Kain tried his luck and asked if he could go together but was refused outright. So, in the end he had to be satisfied with asking the Old Man for a favor of stopping by at Riverfield and talking to his family, or at least confirming that they are doing okay.

The Old Man said, “No promises, but we shall see.”

And he left.

With that, Kain too was left to his own devices. He'd not waste this opportunity, grabbing it with both his hands and make the most out of it.

Kain and Emma were not in the usual place of the fort's open ground where he'd train. Because her reluctance to enter the fort's boundaries, that was always going to be impossible. No, they were instead in another large structure that had seen better days.

In its prime, the building must have been some sort of Colosseum, judging by the architectural style and the layout of the walls that were still remaining. Now though, it was just a fallen husk of its former glory, with only a fraction of it still standing.

Whatever the case may be, it was also the second-most open area in the city next to the fort, so it was a good place to train here. He wasn't being conceited when he figured earlier on that he could accidentally destroy a part of the city, its heritage if he wasn't paying attention. So, better to be safe and muck around in a place with no obstacles, like here.

He sat down on the ground first and tried to meditate. Emma was off to doing whatever that she liked to do normally, and was out of his earshot. Never mind the fact that she was supposed to babysit him, nor the fact that she made a promise to teach him how to forage successfully in a forest like Tetamus.

Kain crossed his legs and closed his eyes. Next, he took in a deep breath, and mentally slowed his heart rate down as that would make it easy for him to feel the flow of blood in his vessels, his ch'i in the meridians, and of Aeterna around him as well as within his Pool.

It took a great deal of concentration to achieve all these, but after a while, he could faintly feel them all. It was kinda like rubbing a super-thin strand of single hair between his fingertips – it was there, but irritatingly indiscernible and too faint to get a firm grasp on.

But the fact was, they were there, and he could feel them. That was the result of all the hard work he had put in during the last few weeks. A good starting point, he told himself rather smugly.

First thing first, he manipulated Aeterna so it would slowly form the spell. Then he carefully laid it over his left hand, greatly fortifying it. Not trusting his handiwork, Kain then laid five more layers of this new Body Enhancement spell he cooked up on his flesh.

With this spell, not only his muscles, skins and bones would be tougher, but they also should be regenerate a heck of a lot faster. The activation of this nameless spell chewed up quite a bit of his Aeterna reserves and required a huge amount of concentration in order to maintain it, but he thought that it was better to be safe than sorry.

He remained like this, trying to get used to controlling the spell. After all, he needed to control the flow of ch'i as well while doing this tough spell at the same time. Currently, his mental capacity was not advanced enough to handle both activities.

After about five minutes, his Aeterna reserve became perilously close to running out completely so he released the spell. It would not be funny if he blacked out from what he coined as an Aeterna exhaustion. There probably was a proper term for it in the outside world, but since he could not confirm it, he'd stick with this title for now.

He rested while recovering the Pool. While doing so, he began on controlling the circulation of ch'i inside his body. Doing this was a lot harder than controlling Aeterna. For one, he could easily see Aeterna with his naked eyes. But the same couldn't be said about ch'i, as he had to totally concentrate and try to see it with his senses rather than relying on his sights. Not easy.

As it was, ch'i circulated along his meridians automatically like blood pumping through his veins. Having this image in his head certainly didn't help him at all, though – blood couldn't consciously be controlled by a person's will, so how could he hope to control something like ch'i? Without his three dan tians, it'd be impossible. Even with them, it was still a tough ask.

He closed his eyes, filtering out all the unnecessary noises and focused on his dan tians. He imagined there were three small pools filled with clear liquid and interconnected to his body via numerous tiny rivers. Then he imagined gently guiding more of the liquid into his meridians connected to his left hand.

Unlike before, Kain was extra careful as he had no plans to lose his left hand this time around. He definitely learned his lesson. He sent only the most minute amount of ch'i possible from Xia, and let it stew there for a while, trying his best to control it. He did this until he recovered his Aeterna reserve.

Then, he recirculated the ch'i back to his dan tian and worked on the wielding of Aeterna instead. Alternatively repeating the two exercises, Kain spent a good few hours doing nothing but these two things until he was totally wiped out from the mental exhaustion.

By the time he was lying on his back with no energy left, Emma returned from wherever she was, her hands full of vegetables freshly dug out from the ground. Kain could tell that by all the dirt still clinging to them.

“Are they suppose to be our lunch?” Kain inquired dryly.

Emma nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Aren't these just wonderful? Look how healthy they are, so full of vitality and energy! Hmm? What's wrong with you, little Master Kain?”

Emma peered at him curiously at his tired and slightly pale face as if she was studying a new specimen of an insect.

“I'm fine. Just a little tired, is all.” Kain waved her gazes off and sat up. He felt sore all over. Not 100% sure of why but having a few guesses, he managed to stand on two feet on his own strength.

“Well, alright. Don't overexert yourself now. The Old Master will get angry, remember. Oh, that's right, if you need help, you can ask me, you know. I can cast cool spells to refill your energy!! I've done it a few time before in my life, so you can trust me on this.”

Kain waved his hands again in haste. “It's fine, Emma. Thanks for the offer but I'm fine.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders lightly. “If you say so, Little Master. Let's just have a meal together, then.”

Not stopping there, she then proceeded to roughly brush his hair, turning it into a messy mothball. Seeing this, she giggled a little. “Maybe it's time you get a hair trim, Little Master. Otherwise, you'd turn into a furball. Or, you want a style like that of an Elven male instead? Long and straight, all dignified and handsome?”

“Yeah, well, I like it short and uncomplicated, thanks. I definitely need to cut it soon,” Kain rearranged his unruly hair, shoving away Emma's disruptive hand.

Emma just smiled and went about her business. Even though Kain had a hankering for something more meaty, he didn't say anything. For one, he had no energy to complain, and more so, he knew how potent they were in restoring his depleted strength. She certainly knew what she was talking about when it came to plants.

Whistling like a songbird, she then proceeded to produce a steady stream of water to wash the vegetables right there and then. Kain saw a vast amount of Water Elemental Aeterna swirl freely around her and coalescing into actual liquid form, which was impressive to say the least.

“Oh, wow. Emma, you have an Affinity with Water Elemental, eh? That sure is convenient, you know.” Kain commented as he watched her from the side.

But Emma looked confused, as she tilted her head to the side. “Affinity? What's that? Never heard of that before. Is that a name for a new type of food?”

Kain was taken aback slightly, but recovered his composure soon after and retorted. “Not sure how you ended up associating Affinity with food, but no, it's not something edible. It's actually.... hmm, you are not joking with me, right? You really don't know what an Affinity to an Element is?”

She shook her head, not forgetting to continuously wash the veggies in her hands. The ground beneath her feet became wet and somewhat muddy, but she didn't seem to mind it.

Kain was confused greatly now. “Wait, what? Don't you Elves use Invocation, too?”

“Invocation? I don't know what's that, either. Sounds cool, though. What is it?” With her glittering eyes, she asked. If she wasn't holding those wet vegetables, she would have leaned over toward Kain, maybe even jumping all over him and demanding to know.

Kain sensed genuine interest from her. She was not kidding at all. This made him confused even more.

“You... But.... Then, how did you make the water out of thin air? That's by wielding Aeterna, right? Isn't that Invocation?”

Emma shook her head. “Nope. That's called the Nature Divine Arts. We Elves receive the blessings of the Nature Spirit so we can wield Aeterna freely with no objections. Although, now that you mention it, there's something about Preference of the Spirits – where an Elf can receive blessings by various spirits related to different Elements. No blessing, can't use that Element. Perhaps you were talking about that?”

At this unexpected revelation, Kain was shocked to the core. He really didn't see this coming. Up until this moment, he believed that Invocation was just a fancy word for magic. However, with what Emma had said, this was obviously not the case.

No, wait a minute. Maybe I'm thinking it all wrong. It's true that no one ever said that Invocation is magic and vice versa. It's more likely that Invocation is nothing more than a school of wielding Aeterna, just like the different schools of martial arts teaches how to punch a person in the face.

When Kain thought about it this way, it became a little more clearer and his confusion slowly lifted away.

Invocation was the way for the humanoids under the Empire's rule to bend Aeterna to their will, while this Nature Divine Arts was for the Elves, which was different with how the rest of the races handled Aeterna.

Why the differences, though? Why complicate things like this, I wonder? Back when I first met Emma, she emitted a strange fluctuation in her Aeterna Pool. I figured it was because her race-specific trait, but could it be because of this Nature Spirits or whatever?

Kain puzzled over it but he had no ready answers. He thought that maybe it could have had something to do with the lack of Elven presence in the Empire's territories, or at least in the places he'd been to. Even in literature, Elves were not mentioned at all. Now that he thought about it deeply, it was a rather weird thing.

“Hey, Emma, are you aware of the fact that us Imperials use Invocation to wield Aeterna? We don't know anything about this Nature Divine Arts or whatever.”

“Oh, really? That's soooo weird. Isn't everybody the same? No? Oh, yeah, I thought it was really curious seeing you wield Aeterna even though you had not received the blessings from the Nature Spirits.” Emma nodded as if she understood something important. “Wow, now this is a revelation!! The village elders back home always said that you Imperials were a barbaric and cruel bunch who needed to be killed on sight, but I never knew why. Is it because you guys use this Invocation thingy? Without any blessings? I mean, that would be impossible. Only the Fiends could do that.”

When she finished her monologue, she narrowed her eyes and began studying Kain top to bottom. There was a trace of hostility in the way she gazed at him, but after awhile, she sighed and shook her head, her expression that of a confusion.

“That's funny, you sure don't look like a Fiend. So, how can you wield Aeterna without a blessing? It's so vexing, you know!! Us Elven children have to work so hard to gain the approval of the Nature Spirits and the blessings from them, yet you don't have to? It's not very fair, now is it?”

Kain could only smile wryly at her tantrum. It was better to let her say whatever until she grew tired of it. In his experience, most women he dated in the past were like that.

Although he got curious regarding one of the most popular cliches of Elves.

“Wait, how old are you this year, Emma?”

“Hmm? Me? Uhm, let's see.... Uhm,” She began counting with her fingers, folding one by one after thinking deeply each time she did. After a minute or two of this, she said, “I'm pretty sure I'll be 183 this year!!”

Kain nearly choked on his own spit. 183?! Holy cow. So the long lives of Elves are real!! And this means she's older than me, Damien, Lizbeth, Kaleena, Katrina and Derrick put together!! Gee whiz, and she looks so young....

He sighed weakly after recovering from the shock. He did expect it, but still, to sit next to an 183-year old girl was something a bit hard to swallow.

“How long does an Elf live for?” Kain continued his questioning. Emma handed him the washed veggie and pondered slightly before answering him.

“Hmm, it depends. Us Boscage Elves live around five hundred years or so. But Terran Elves don't live that long, maybe around three, four hundred? Maybe less? And High Elves, whew, I've heard that they can live well past a thousand years. One thousand!! Can you even imagine the kinds of stories you could tell if you've lived that long?!”

Her voice was contemplative at first, then it increasingly became excited towards the end of her explanations.

“Wait a sec, who the heck are the Terrans and High Elves?!” Kain asked urgently before Emma somehow found a way to drift off topic.

“Hmm? Oh, that's simple, silly. Us Boscages live in woodlands, Terrans prefer to live underground or in plains, while the High Elves like high places. You know, like mountain tops or tall towers.”

Oh, Kain nodded inwardly, having formed a mental image of sorts after listening to this brief description. So, Boscage Elves are the hippies living in the forest, dancing around bonfires and busy being one with The Nature, while the Terrans are the Dark Elves who live underground and mine for stuff, while the High Elves are the prototypical Elves from the popular media. Got it.

Kain bit the vegetable and began chewing it. Surprisingly, it was juicy and rather succulent, which was not what he expected. From the outside appearance, he half expected it to taste like a bulb of onion, but no, it'd be more correct to call it cassava-like.

Absent-mindedly chewing it, Kain failed to notice Emma still talking about various unrelated stuff about the different Elven tribes, thereby missing quite a few important tidbits in the process. If he knew, he'd smack himself in the face for that....

Anyways.

Suddenly, Kain felt a need to ask one more question. “What's the relationship between Imperials and that of Elves? As far as I know, there aren't any Elves in the Empire, nor does its people know of you guys. Is there a reason for that?”

Emma threw him a weird glance, before frowning deeply. “Hmm. Maybe you don't know because Little Master Kain is too young? Hmm. Could it be, that no one has told you? Hmm. Maybe the memories of the past have faded away in other tribes? Hmm. That could be because only the Elves live longer than everyone else. Hmm. Probably...”

“Emma?! Hello?”

“Oh!! Right, where was I? Oh, yes. See, the thing is, Elves and humanoids went to a big war five hundred years ago. Back then, apparently there was no problem between the species but for some reason after the Fall of the Crystal, everyone started fighting each other. I don't know all the details, but you could ask a High Elves or an Elven Elder of a village as they might know more.”

Emma gave him oh, well, that's all I know kind of shake of her head, and began chomping down on her veggie.

“Is that it? You don't know anything else?” Kain asked exasperatedly.

“Yep. That's it. Sorry.” She shrugged her shoulders in a very French way.

“Oh, alright, then. What about that Fall of the Crystal, though? What's that all about?” Kain asked since he thought he heard about it somewhere before, although not sure from where.

This time, Emma was stumped for sure. “I don't know. I always meant to ask the village elders or even the Old Master but I forgot.”

“Old Master? What, are you trying to say the Old Man lived for five hundred years?! You know he's a human, right? Humans can't live for that long. It's physically impossible!”

“Hey, why are you shouting at me for? All I'm saying is that the Old Master is really knowledgeable about the history of this world. You can ask him yourself, you know!! Plus, I've been with him for many, many decades, and he looks exactly the same as he was back then when I met him for the first time, as he is now!! Isn't that a proof enough that he has lived a long life? Oh wait, you wouldn't know that...”

Kain was left speechless at this revelation, another of such occurrence in as many minutes. She basically confirmed that he exceeded the norm for a human being's lifespan. Of course, she could have embellished how the Old Man looked like all those years ago, but since he detected no dishonesty in her voice, he had to believe she wasn't lying about it.

Jeez, then just how old is the Old Man supposed to be?!

Kain scratched the side of his cheek, wondering if all those impossibly overblown age descriptions in Chinese web novels were in fact, based on some sort of truth.

As soon as this thought arose, he dismissed it. Because it was not possible.

But wait, there are Elves with long lives. So, it's not completely impossible, isn't it? With Aeterna, I'm sure extending one's longevity should not be a fantasy.

“Yeah, now you mention it, it's kinda funny how the Old Master hasn't aged at all since then, seeing that he's not an Elf, nor can he wield Aeterna,” said Emma, rather nonchalantly.

“Wait, what? The Old Man can't wield Aeterna at all?!”

“Hmm? Didn't he tell you? No, he can't wield it. He said he tried to learn how to a long time ago but just couldn't do it. So, all these years, he never, ever used it.”

There was a sliver of smugness in her voice as she spoke. She seemed to be feeling superior in the fact that the Old Man told her something intimate but Kain had been left out of the loop.

Ignoring her, Kain fell into another deep thought. So, is that the reason why the Old Man didn't want me to use Invocations during the training? I mean, it's just my own conjecture, but having both would tremendously benefit me. Could it be that he's jealous?

Suppressing a snigger, Kain returned his attention on finishing the vegetable. After the meal, he still had his quota of physical exercises to do.

Suddenly, Emma leapt to her feet and exclaimed. “Oh, my!! I completely forgot there was that!!”

Kain looked at her excited figure with a frown, as her sudden outburst nearly made him choke on the bits of the vegetable he was chewing on.

“Hey, hey, hey, little Kain, you wanna know more about the Fall of the Crystal and the war of five hundred years ago? Then you might as well follow me!! I've got something really cool to show you.”

~​

“Over there,” said Emma, as she pointed out a large, flat building partially hidden from the view by other crumbling structures and overgrown vegetation. The building was on the other side of the city, behind the Tetamus mountain itself.

Since he had never come here before, the surprise was great once he realized how overgrown with weeds the whole area was. As matter of fact, almost the half of all he could see was covered in greenery, a stark contrast to the other side of the city he was well acquainted with until now which was quite barren and lifeless.

Outwardly, it didn't look too remarkable, save for its enormous width. It was as if someone took a modern football stadium and then flattened it by pressing it from the top. Certainly, it dwarfed the collapsed Colosseum he'd been using as the training center until now.

“What is that place?” asked Kain, unable to figure out just what a structure like that could be used for.

“I don't know. But it's got lots of stuff inside. Come on, this way. The entrance is all caved in but I know a way in.”

Emma led him around the South-facing corner where the vegetation growth was less severe than other places. Here, the walls were bare and exposed. And sure enough, there was a doorway with a door missing. What's surprising to Kain, was that the doorway itself looked somewhat.... modern, for a lack of better description.

For instance, it wasn't made of stone, but of metal, just like the modern door frames. He peered over at the rusting hinges and saw the similar arrangements of bolts there as well.

Suddenly feeling rather incongruous, he hurried inside the darkened corridor.

Obviously, there was no light source and was pretty dark inside. Kain cast a Firelight to illuminate the way forward, with Emma taking the lead.

“Watch where you step, little master Kain,” so said Emma.

At first he didn't understand, but it soon became apparent why the warning was needed.

The corridor itself was narrow. Just enough to let a couple of men to walk abreast. There were vines and moss of some kind crawling up the walls and the ceiling, but he could still make out the smooth, almost metallic like surface beneath the vegetation. Obviously, it was nothing like the fort with its exposed stone passageways.

Also, there were rooms along the corridor. Small rooms, big rooms, rooms the size of a modern office, all sorts of them.

And these rooms still possessed some of the furniture within, still standing after the god-knows-how-long. There were desks, chairs, cabinet-like things – either rotted beyond recognition or covered in vegetation and dirt.

As he and Emma continued to go forward, they arrived at a spiral staircase that allowed them to either go up or down. Unfortunately, Kain could see that the way down below was blocked off with a tangled mess of vines and whatnots. As far as he could tell, though, the staircase itself seemed fine.

“Going up,” said Emma as she lightly tread on the staircase, climbing up to the second floor.

The corridor greeting them up here was much wider. He got a feeling that the previous passageway was something akin to a maintenance access in buildings, allowing workers to enter hard-to-reach parts of the structure to do their respective jobs, whatever that may be.

This kind of feelings rose wherever he looked and observed. This building, the way it was laid out, its atmosphere after ignoring the millennia of decay all gave off the feelings of him walking inside a modern skyscraper.

He was beginning to feel regret for coming here now. Because, his almost-preternatural ability to sense troublesome events coming his way was going through a massive, full-on panic attack at the moment.

That could only mean one thing – that, yet another flag he'd like to avoid was being raised and he was walking into it.

As he mulled this silently, his foot inadvertently knocked on a debris rolling on the floor. When he looked down on it, Kain's face paled.

It wasn't a debris, but a cracked human skull.

He nearly jumped at that. He did scream out like a little girl, though.

Emma groaned after seeing his reaction. “Oh, no. I forgot to warn you about those. Yeah, so, um, there are a few of those bones lying around here. So, be careful, alright? It's best not to disturb the dead.”

“Emma, what else have you forgotten to tell me in the meantime?! Please, I'd like to know right now!! If there was something you should have told me, now's a great time, don't you think?!”

Emma pondered for a bit, her gaze slowly floating up. She didn't slow down her walking speed, however, prompting Kain to hastily follow her.

They walked for a bit before she turned to him and smiled brightly. “I think there was something, but right now. I can't remember. Sorry!!!”

If she said “Tee hee!!” and lightly knocked the side of her head while winking, Kain would've hit her. No, really.

Grumbling, he carefully stepped over whatever was on the floor. Sure enough, more and more bones were littered all over the place. Some of them were in such a fragile state, a small prod turned them into dust. Some others, though, were in a much better shape than the others, like that skull Kain had stepped on earlier.

Logically speaking, this made no sense. Assuming that these bones were laid out here exposed to the elements for hundreds of years, maybe thousands, then how come some were weathered terribly while others were not?

He had no answers again. Having no answers had fast become the norm for him nowadays so he didn't feel too frustrated.

Bending down, he slowly picked up what he imagined was a calf bone of a human being. Inwardly he wanted to congratulate himself for being brave enough to do something so audacious. The previous him would've never done it.

As he studied the bone, Emma called for him impatiently. “Come on, Little Master. It's not too far now.”

“Hold on, Emma,” Kain replied as he used his Aeterna sense to probe the bone. He felt.... nothing. No reaction.

Not too discouraged by this discovery, he then tried to sense it with his Shang. Only then, did he get another shock.

From the bone itself, he felt a minute amount of ch'i, hidden deep within the marrow.

“Eh?” Kain let out an involuntary gasp, which drew Emma's attention as well.

“What is it? Did you see something strange?”

She approached him, tilting her head slightly.

“No, it's just that this bone, it has ch'i in it....”

Kain murmured as he lifted it closer to the small ball of flame acting as the light source. His words trailed off at the end, as he remembered what the Old Man said before.

That he was fortifying not only his flesh and muscles, but his internal structures as well – organs, blood vessels, bones, and bone marrows.

In other words, his whole body would become a suitable container for ch'i circulation via meridians in his body. These meridians were not physical but metaphorical. Thus, they were not subjected to physical and biological limitations of a human body structure. They could go past his heart, for example, without hindering its ability to pump blood to the rest of his body.

Looking at it like that, then those meridians would also exist within his bones as well, not too mention the bone marrows.

Could it be, that these dead people were... martial artists? Qi gong practitioners? How the hell....

Kain grimaced in confusion. He felt like there was some kind of conspiracy afoot and that he was thrust into the middle of it.

“Hoh, ch'i is in those bones? Wow. Who knew?”

Emma looked at the bone in his head, studying it interestedly.

“Yeah, just a tiny bit. But that bit is making this bone really tough. Look how sturdy it still is.” Kain handed the calf bone over.

Emma received it and began waving it around. “Yeah, it's like a high-quality Fiend bone items we used to have back in the village. Not bad. Never knew they were like that, though. Oh well. If I knew, then I'd have fashioned all sorts of useful items out of them already...”

She sounded a bit regretful for a missed opportunity, but Kain wasn't sure whether that sentiment of hers didn't clash with the earlier one about not disturbing the dead.

“What, you can't sense ch'i?” asked Kain.

Shaking her head, Emma sighed. “Nope. The Old Master tried to teach me but just like him unable to wield Aeterna, I couldn't.”

Hearing this, Kain nodded slightly. As the Old Man had said before, the physiology of this Realm's inhabitants did not suit the requirements of practicing the ch'i-based martial arts. Emma was only one example, but seeing that the Old Man himself couldn't wield Aeterna, this assertion seemed about right as it would be the case of higher Realm beings unable to wield Aeterna in compensation to utilizing ch'i instead.

Emma dropped the bone and sighed. “Oh, well. It's not like I'm going to fashion a bow or arrows out of humanoid bones. That's not cool, right? Only a devil or a Fiend would do something so morbid like that. Speaking of which.... hey, Little Master Kain, would you like to learn Archery from me? I already taught you how to swing a sword properly, so I want to teach the next thing.”

Kain couldn't help but smile bemusedly. Her ability to change topics was still world-class. How did talking about human remains lead to learning how to shoot an arrow was beyond him, but she did it, and she was asking him whether he'd like to have a go.

“Sure, why not. After we get out of here.” Kain chuckled.

The two of them began to move forward once more, deeper into the widening corridor, until they arrived at a huge, open hallway reminiscent of a fancy office building's foyer.

There were lots of vines and vegetation obscuring the view, but that was the vibe Kain got as he swept his gaze around the open space.

“Over there,” said Emma as she pointed to the lower floor.

They were on the proverbial catwalk if this was a modern building and if this hall was indeed a foyer. The place she pointed to would have been an information kiosk or a security checkpoint. Maybe even a reception. The ground had risen to the level of a tall desk, but dirt and vegetation covered it so he couldn't tell what was underneath.

Enhancing his legs with Aeterna, Kain jumped down after Emma from the catwalk and approached the small.... hill. That's what he decided to call it for now.

She smiled in anticipation and spoke. “Hey, now let me show you something amazing, alright?”

Then she plunged her hand in between the gaps of the vines covering the hill. Kain, being a shorty, couldn't see exactly what she did.

She searched with the tip of her fingers until they brushed on the flat, smooth surface buried under all that vegetation. Smiling, she began haphazardly touching it.

What happened next took Kain by a huge surprise.

Because, out of nowhere, a life-like hologram of a sharply-dressed Oriental woman in her early twenties was projected right before him.

She smiled brightly and bowed, although as if the batteries were running out her image flickered intermittently.

Her badly synched words then echoed out from somewhere within the hill, surprising him one more time.

“Welcome to The Mirae Complex, where the bright future of all mankind awaits those who….”

I was following the India Vs. England ODI match that took place in Pune. What a chase by India, that was. Virat Kohli as one scary batsman, totally confirmed.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 36

36​

The hologram of the woman spoke in English first, before switching to a language Kain didn't really recognize. It could have been either Japanese or Korean for all he could figure out.

What's important, though, wasn't that. No, it was the fact that there was a working hologram standing in right front of him. That was important. Such technologies, even in their most crudest forms, hadn't yet reached the wide spread adaptation in his previous world. Hell, it'd be more correct to say that such things still belonged to the pages of a Sci-Fi novel. Or Sci-Fi movies, for that matter.

Yet, here it was, greeting Kain like it was a daily occurrence in this long-dead city of mysteries. One had to sympathize with how he was feeling at the moment, facing a futuristic tech in a place that was clearly been abandoned and forgotten for god knows how long. Made no logical sense to him.

Or, could it be, that this city was the result of people coming in from the higher Realms? Like, Seventh and beyond? Besides that explanation, I got nothing.

He frowned deeply at the robotic smile of the hologram girl. Kain was sure that this was an automated greeting system, not a full-fledged A.I., so he didn't bother greeting it back, but Emma returned a bright smile and waved her hand.

The quality of the voice-over became worse as the recording went on. “Our Mission is to provide a peace of mind for all the brave men and women of humanity who step forth into the unknown world, to provide a safe haven against the storm. A home away from home....”

The automated message kept on droning about the future this and potential that until even Kain became a bit embarrassed hearing it next to a non-human Emma. She didn't seem to terribly mind it, though.

Before the hologram could finish her script, it flickered unstably, then with a puff, it dissipated. Then a thick layer of weird silence descended on the place.

“So, uh, what was that all about?”

Kain asked cautiously at grinning Emma. She seemed rather chuffed about something.

“That, Little Master Kain, was one of the long-dead souls occupying this very building!! When you walk around, we will occasionally run into her. She gives you great advice time to time!! See, remember when I told you about the interesting murals and books and weapons and stuff I found in the city? Most of those are right here, underground, in this building!! She even helped me to find them and all!! And guess what? There're lots more other places here that I haven't even explored yet since it's so big underground. Isn't it exciting?! Who knows what's hiding down there?!”

Wanting to pacify her enthusiasm a bit, Kain hastily stopped her there.

“Alright, alright. I get it. So, this here's the place of wonders, eh? Well, it does sound mysterious.... Yeah, we should check the place out. But first, Emma, please take me to the... room where you found those weapons. Assuming, that they are still there.”

Emma nodded, but she didn't seem satisfied at what Kain just said. “Of course, I will take you there. And yes, they are still there. I didn't touch any of them, you know.”

She then led him into an opening next to the hill (formerly an info kiosk) that was barely big enough to fit her. As for Kain himself, it was not a problem, him being a short kid and all.

It was really dark and humid inside the corridor. If it weren't for the spell of Firelight, he'd be as blind as a bat.

Emma babbled on by herself, saying that when she stumbled in here, she literally stumbled all over place – having failed to prepare a lit torch for the exploration. She said it was a spontaneous decision that day so naturally, she had forgotten. “But now, I've got myself a walking, talking torch so it's fine!!” She cheerfully declared and slapped his shoulders playfully.

He didn't feel like joining her celebration yet, though.

The darkened corridor led to what he assumed to be the office space for administrative duties and the like. Almost all of the spaces were blocked off, either via rubble and debris, or with thick and impregnable vegetation that twisted and filled as far as the lights could shine.

The only way remaining was to go forward. And before long, the duo found an elevator shaft, its doors twisted and pried open.

“We go down this well,” said Emma.

Obviously, she had no idea that this was supposed to be a shaft for a big block of metal to go up and down. If she knew, she'd be shocked out of her skull for sure, Kain mused silently to himself.

Peering past the twisted wreckage of the doors, he could see nothing at all except a several metallic wires hanging from the top of the shaft. But he confirmed that there was vegetation growing on the surfaces when he moved the Firelight inside to get a better view. As for the ceiling, he could see the bottom of the elevator itself which was perched rather precariously on some vines.

Emma pointed at the metal wires and said, “We could climb down using that, but doing so hurts your palms a lot. Without proper equipment, it's not really advisable. So, I was thinking, maybe we could climb down using those, uh, vines and roots?”

Kain agreed with that choice. No way in hell he'd pretend to be a firefighter and slide down on that. For one, there was a considerable distance between where he was and to one of those wires. He could potentially make the leap but he'd rather play it safe. Who knows how long those wires been exposed to the elements for. They could just snap clean off simply by him latching onto it.

The big question mark now was whether he could maintain the Firelight while climbing down the roots and the vines dotting the walls of the elevator shaft. In all honesty, he wasn't 100% confident. He could do it, theoretically, but since he'd never done it before, he felt reluctant to try his luck now of all times.

“Let's use this,” Emma said as she rummaged through a small heap on the ground to the side of the mangled elevator doors.

What she found was a bone, strong and somehow still intact. She then proceeded to sprinkle some type of powder on one of its tip. “Now, place the flames over here,” said Emma confidently.

Kain was surprised somewhat when the fire caught on the bone and began to burn quite vigorously.

“Whoa, what did you do, Emma? A bone shouldn't really catch fire like this,” asked Kain, quite amazed at what was happening before him.

Smiling proudly, she quickly spoke. “Hey, it's not going to last forever, Little Master Kain. Hurry, chuck it in, and light up the floor below.”

Nodding, Kain threw the bone with the healthy burning flame down the shaft. It traveled quite far before coming to a noisy stop.

Kain could see the bottom this way, and also could see how deep the shaft went. And boy, it was quite deep.

Frowning, Kain muttered to himself. “Maybe, this wasn't such a good idea after all....”

But there was no time for regrets. Emma was already climbing down the wall. She wasn't even looking back at him. Her speed was pretty damn shocking to Kain – she was like a gecko with a quartet of sticky feet clinging to a cliff face.

Kain was left speechless by the sight. One blink later, she already covered the distance of a few meters. At this rate, she'd leave him completely behind.

The frown on his face became a grimace instead. Gritting his teeth, Kain began tentatively to step on the nearest foothold, hoping that it's sturdy enough to support his weight. He had half a mind to ask Emma to stop but knowing her personality, she wouldn't heed his words anyway so he didn't bother.

Contrary to his worries, the exposed root felt solid. A warm sensation of relief washed over him, and he let out a sigh, before carefully making his way down.

He was only a fifth of a way down but Emma had already landed on the bottom. In order to ensure that the bone torch continued to flicker with the flames, she sprinkled more of that powder. Then she impatiently looked up at Kain's slow and comically inept attempt at descending. He was hugging the wall with all his might, carefully feeling out each and every footholds and hand holds.

She had to sprinkle more powder on the torch to keep it going while waiting for Kain to make it safely. She grumbled softly at his tardiness but didn't say it aloud.

By the time he got both of his feet on the bottom of the shaft, he was totally out of breath. Not because he was physically tired, no, but the toll the descent took on his mental stamina was substantial. Never in his life did he realize he had a fear of heights. He didn't have one, but at this rate, he might develop one....

At the bottom, there was another pair of mangled elevator doors. And beyond them, a foreboding corridor, dark and uncertain.

What could have damaged the doors so badly? Kain slowly ran his hand over the edges of the mangled metal, wondering to himself. It would have taken a tremendous strength to destroy them to this degree.

Just imagining the culprit made his body shudder. On top of that, the collections of bones upstairs certainly left an impression on him as well. If he was a betting man, he'd say there was a fierce battle here and it resulted in many lives being lost. As to why there was a such a battle....

There was a small change to the scenery as soon as he emerged out of the elevator shaft. There was a lot less vegetation here now than before, and the further he looked, less covered up the area was. In fact, he could clearly make out metallic walls and doorways that would have given off the feelings of being sterile were it not for all the catastrophic damage visible wherever he looked.

There were more remains here too, the fabric draped on the skeletons too weathered to be identifiable. Kain cast another Firelight and sent it slightly farther forward.

And as the light source drifted, the better it became to discern just what the hell this place was like. It looked exactly like a corridor straight out of a horror-themed Sci-Fi film, replete with broken and ripped walls, torn ceiling panels hanging weakly from the exposed steel beams up above with the hidden wiring hanging loose, as well as eerie, deafening silence that covered it all.

If there were electrical sparks and hisses caused by the escaping steam then the mood would be pretty much spot-on. Add in a menacing, bloodthirsty alien monster lurking in the shadows, then the illusion would be perfect.

“Wow. Last time I was here, I didn't notice this place looking this.... um, disorganized,” quipped Emma, clearly not expecting this level of damage.

“It's a small wonder how you didn't get into an accident here,” retorted Kain as he created another Firelight, this one close to where the duo was. “So, which way?”

“Forward, of course!!” Emma pointed ahead and began to walk briskly. Not a care in the world, the way she leisurely skipped forward. That caused an alarm in Kain's heart as he refused to believe there was no other sentient creature in this place besides the two of them, and more importantly, no guarantee that the said creatures would be friendly.

“Hey, Emma, slow down, will you. You've no idea what's ahead of us,” Kain called out to her.

She chuckled lightly. “It's fine. There's nothing here, other than that lady from before. And she's harmless. Besides, I can't sense anything else that could threaten us in here.”

“Oh, c'mon, Emma. You can't possibly sense things in this place. It's not like we're in the forest or anything,” Kain shook his head. “Look, it pays to be cautious, right? Let's just slow down for a second, okay?”

She gave him a curious gaze before asking him. “What's the matter, Little Master Kain? Can't you extend your senses and check your surroundings like the Old Master? He said anyone who wields ch'i can do that. What was it called, Yi Hai was it?”

Having never heard of such a thing, Kain quickly retorted. “Sounds like a yell made by a cowboy. No, that guy didn't explain anything to me. I don't know what that Yee Haw is supposed to be.”

“No, not Yee Haw, Yi Hai. And what's a cowboy?”

“Never mind that, I'll tell you some other time. But for someone who can't wield ch'i, you sure know a lot, don't you Emma?”

When Kain asked her in a skeptical voice, she feigned an outrage spoke in her defense. “Hey, I'll have you know that I've been with the Old Master for a very long time. Of course I pick up on things, you see? I'm quick on the uptake. Just like that!!”

To emphasize her point, she snapped her finger and made a haughty face.

Kain chuckled briefly as the tense atmosphere lightened up a little. Still, what she said made him think – when his Shang opened up, it felt like he could see everything around him. And lately, while meditating he couldn't help but notice the tiniest movements from his surroundings. Not all the time, but it happened enough for him to be aware of it.

Maybe the enhanced version of that is this Yi Hai thing, Kain mused silently to himself. Should I give it a shot? Try to, uh, feel my surroundings? But do I need to meditate in the middle of this place?!

It sounded a bit impractical to him, seeing the messy environment he was in currently. As he was still a rookie when it came to meditation, he needed a calm, relaxed and safe place to meditate. This underground corridor did not meet any of the criteria. Not by a long stretch.

Then it hit him. He wanted to smack himself in the head when he realized his own mistake.

No, wait a second. Can't I just use my Aeterna vision thingy? Wouldn't that be an easy and quick solution to my troubles?

He was far too caught up in getting around the Old Man's no Invocation policy and of training his Body Enhancement spells, and had forgotten about that ability of his. One that he didn't tell anyone about, not even his parents in this world.

With his mind made up, Kain carefully scanned his surroundings once more with his eyes wide open. To say he was slightly perturbed by what he saw was an understatement of the month.

The dead city up above had its fair share of Aeterna lazily floating about. Inside the fort, it was a riot of dancing colors. Near the World Tree? Like an ocean of oily paints spilling over the canvas called the reality.

But here?

Almost not a single drop. Oh, there was a few strands visible here and there, but it might as well be non-existent. The whole place was eerily quiet, eerily dead, for all he could see.

It was the first time he was in an area with so little Aeterna. He didn't feel so good after understanding this fact.

Crucially, though, he sensed no life forms. No moving things were hidden in the background or lurking in the shadows to jump out and scare the bejesus out of him. None of those. Which was a good news of sorts.

“See? There's nothing here, Little Master. So, let's get going already!”

Impatiently, Emma grabbed Kain's arm and began dragging him down the corridor the moment she saw the boy relax a bit. That was a mistake on his part, obviously. Because, the fact was he wasn't convinced yet – he was sure of the possibilities of some creatures possessing special skill sets allowing it to hide from the view, his visions included. It was too early to relax, in other words.

But never mind that, Emma was dead set on showing Kain the proof of her solo adventures. She literally dragged him past several rooms that looked somewhat interesting, leaving him with no time to explore them by himself.

Most of the metallic doors in this corridor bore the similar type of damage first seen on the elevator shaft as if a thing with massive strength ripped through them all while trying to find something.

Eventually, the duo came to a stop on a massive door with its corner twisted open, like as if someone tried to pry the lid on a can of sardines by force and only going half way. Emma entered via this opening, pulling Kain along with her.

Inside was a huge open space, but there were signs of chaos in here as well. Everything within was broken, destroyed, strewn messily about, turned over, completely, utterly disorganized.

On the walls, he noticed panels similar to what he would have seen in the cockpit of a spaceship. From a movie, of course. Not like he's actually been inside a real rocket, after all....

Their state was pretty pitiful as well, all destroyed and damaged beyond repair. Even if they weren't, Kain couldn't see them operating after all these years, left unattended to for so long without any maintenance.

Hmm, but that hologram upstairs worked, didn't it? Maybe there's something here that might switch on if I press the right buttons...

Keeping this in mind, he swept his gaze around this particular space. The 'room' was in a circular in layout, with a round, raised platform in the middle. He saw several doors on the walls, no signs of disturbance on them. Which was a surprise.

The platform looked like it should be holding onto something, but now it was bare. There were remains of some kind of metallic apparatus hanging precariously loose from the ceiling, ready to fall at a slightest of prods.

As he was looking around, in the corner of his eyes, he caught a small spark, a faint buzz of.... electricity.

It was from a lone panel at a distant corner, on a computer terminal that somehow escaped the fate of total destruction.

Thinking that he was seeing things, he observed it for a bit longer, but that was a waste of time, as Emma lightly hopped to this very terminal and began pressing this and that rather nonchalantly.

Alarmed at her lackadaisical attitude, Kain rushed to her position in order to stop her from doing something monumentally stupid. He was one step too late.

Suddenly, there was a bright light blinding him. The whole chamber was bathed in strong illumination and it took him a few moments to adjust. The change was not limited to that as there were various creaks and groans of hidden machinery moving into place.

He was frozen on the spot, panicking and not knowing what to do. His Aeterna sense didn't help him out here either, as he was picking up almost nothing at all. No discernible changes in an already fleeting amount of Aeterna in the air, meaning everything happening right now, right here was all mechanical in nature.

With a pop, the hologram of the Asian woman came back on, her artificial smile flickering unstably as the whole projected image wobbled. Her disjointed words cut out intermittently.

“.... And now, the collective of the most brilliant minds of humanity have gathered here, to identify and analyze natural resources such as this sample on proud display....”

Her hand gently swept over in economical movement and drew his attention towards the empty platform in the middle.

Now that there was a bright illumination, he could see that the section where the platform was actually in a separate chamber than the one he was in. It was just that, there seemed to be some kind of explosion that occurred, shredding whatever walls there were originally. The platform itself was badly mangled as well, and all that overhanging apparatus were also badly damaged.

Strangely, though, he saw not a single remains of a person anywhere in this chamber. Not even a scrap, which was odd to say the least, seeing that the preceding corridors were choke-a-full of them.

“See? I told you we'll meet her again,” said Emma, grinning innocently.

Not minding her and what the hologram was saying, Kain moved next to her and looked at the terminal. It looked outwardly okay but most of the lettering on the knobs and buttons had eroded or faded away, making it difficult to tell what each of them was supposed to do.

The wide TV screen in the middle of the terminal had a spider-web like crack and didn't show any sign of life. Kain thought that if it wasn't broken maybe he could have found a clue or two. He could only rue his tough luck.

“If I push this one here, this happens!!” Emma pressed down on a slightly glowing button on the uppermost left corner. Then, a door to their far left slid open to its side with a strained groan. “That's where all the things I found are stored. Let's go and take a look!!”

Kain could tell that she was having a lot of fun here, judging by the eagerness in her actions. Well, she was an eager person to begin with, true, but the level of her eagerness seemed to reach another layer as she began to pull him along. Helplessly, he shouted at her.

“Hey, wait a second. I wanna explore this place a bit more, so please Emma, calm down a bit, will you? I want to see what's behind other doors too!!”

She shook her head emphatically. “It's no use, Little Master. I already tried all that. None of the other doors opened no matter what I tried before. It's a waste of time, you know. So, come on now, let's go!!”

Even before he could say a word, she simply picked him up like a stray cat and brought him near the door. At this point, Kain gave up resisting. He could only grumble a bit at this treatment, although not too loudly.

The room they entered was really, a storage. There were strange looking cabinets that stood upright, glass cylinders filled with suspicious liquids, large flat tables with stuff on top.

Most of the glass cylinders were damaged and cracked, with only three of them still intact. As for the cabinets, he could see only a few were locked while the others were all opened and empty. The table tops had a thick layer of dust, and there were some eye-catching items there that drew his attention immediately.

Ignoring the others, he headed to the nearest table and tried to grab the item that caught his attention. It was bigger than him, looked heavier than him, had a long cylindrical shape in the middle and a place to hold it over the shoulder.

In other words, it looked like a futuristic bazooka.

Next to it, the odd shapes and sizes made him shiver with glee. No matter how one cut it, they looked exactly like some sort of futuristic firearms.

He was very, very excited at this discovery. After all, there was no better weapon for him than a gun. And if it's a futuristic pew-pew gun, then even better. Now, he wouldn't have to worry about Fiends or whatnots trying to hurt him.

Smiling happily, he reached for the closest item on the dusty table. It was shaped like a pistol. It felt a bit light on his hand. As for the size, it was obviously too big for him. The overall design screamed “Cheesy Sci-Fi” but he could overlook such a minor drawback.

He took one of those stances that cops seemed to take in the old cops 'n robbers films – legs slightly spread out, knees bent, both hands firmly clasping the gun and pointing forward while the less dominant eye closed shut as he took an aim towards an unoccupied wall. Then he pulled the trigger, expecting some big things to happen.

And.... nothing happened.

Puzzled slightly at this new development, he squeezed the trigger a few times more, but other than some grindy, clicky noises, nothing of note happened.

So he hurriedly looked below the grip where you would slot in a magazine of bullets. A short observation told him this particular model didn't need such antiquated means of ammo. It had to be a pew-pew gun for sure.

Um, so.... uh, its battery's gone flat or something?!

Kain dropped this gun back on the table then reached for another one. This one too didn't fire. So he tried the others. Nothing worked, even the big bazooka.

He felt the immense, crushing weight of disappointment weighing down on him. “Hey, Emma, you said you found weapons. But none of these work!!”

“Huh? What do you mean? What are you holding now? Oh, you silly. That's not weapons now, is it? Stop playing with toys and come over here,” said Emma while waving her hand at him dismissively. Instead, she was standing before a tall cabinet, its doors half open. “In here, silly.”

Grumbling a bit more, Kain took a look inside the cabinet, and there it was, a silver lance that shimmered softly under the bright overhead light. Emma picked it up and lightly swung it in an arc.

“It's so light, it's like it's not made out of any metal I know!! But it's sooooo strong and sharp, I can cut through just about anything with it!”

Kain raised an eyebrow and groaned. “Is that it? Anything else, you know, my size?”

“Oh, there are lots!! But, ah, your size.... yeah, that might be little tough.”

Emma scratched her chin slowly, looking all awkward and stuff.

Kain facepalmed. So, this whole trip indeed turned out to be a massive waste of time after all. For the time he threw away in this place he could've had trained a bit more and become better at manipulating ch'i and Aeterna. He was feeling regret, and rightfully so.

Sensing the level of disappointment in him, Emma hastily tried to cheer him up. “Wait, wait!! There are lots of other stuff here, you know. Who knows, you might find something your size!! Let's just take a closer look and see!!”

“Yeah, sure thing....” Kain sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He was like, oh well, what can you do.

They went through other cabinets. There were locked ones, but after some forceful wriggling, the locks broke and let them take a gander at their contents. More spears, bows, swords, some body armor that looked more or less like what a SWAT team member might wear. One cabinet was full of riot shields too. In another, more pew-pew rifles but predictably, none worked.

And none were his size. He'd need at least another ten years before even thinking of putting one of these armors on, or wield the weapons here. The glass cylinders had nothing of importance for him too, as the intact ones had some sort of syringes and clear plastic packs with some sort of liquid inside.

The writings on the sides said “MRE” on the plastic packs while the syringes had “Adrenaline V. 2. 03.” So, not really something he needed right now.

Emma took the bow with her, her face full of happy smiles. As for him, he just wanted to go home. Still, there were other doors here that might make his time spent coming here worth it.

Kain went around all the closed doors one at the time, trying to figure out what each of them led to. There were plaques located above each door, with an access panel on the wall next to the doorway. There was some power going to them, but as far as he could tell, he needed either a key card or, by the look of the flat, crystalline surface on the panel with an outline of a hand, a matching palm print in the security database. That's how these things usually worked, anyhow.

There were three closed doors here and all of them had the same set-up. The letters on the plaques had faded too much to make out what was written there too.

At this rate, he'd never be able to get inside any of those doors.

Maybe I can pry them open with Invocation? Although, I'm not sure what spells in my arsenal that can do the job here....

Kain frowned, standing in front of the panel, scrutinizing it for a bit longer. After dithering for a while, he carefully placed his left palm on the crystalline surface. It was pretty much out of desperate hope more than anything else.

There was a line of red light that slowly moved up and down on the panel, scanning his palm print, followed by a distant and distinctive buzzing sound of 56k modem which was funny enough thing to hear in a place like this.

Nothing happened for a while until a bright red “ERROR” sign popped up on the panel's display, as well as a loud clunk coming from behind the wall. Naturally, he stiffened up, imagining that soon, the walls would snap open and reveal a cache of guns, cocked and ready to fire at his face.

That.... didn't happen, thankfully. What happened instead, was the door slid to the side in an asthmatic fashion, lurching and coughing, figuratively, until it was half way open.

“Oh, wow, Little Master Kain, I'm not sure what you did, but do it again two more times,” quipped Emma as she stood behind him, still hugging that bow of hers.

Ignoring her, Kain stepped inside cautiously. The air here was stale as if there hadn't been a proper circulation until now. Also, it was remarkably well kept, considering the age of the place.

The problem was, the chamber was bare, on top of being dark as hell. No, that wasn't quite right – there were moody lighting here, shining on the giant mural on a wall situated to the right of where he came in from. Other than that, though.... this chamber, which was considerably big, as big as the chamber with the round platform, was bare. Maybe it was the light playing tricks, but he couldn't see anything here.

The first thing to notice from the mural was the depictions of a handsome youth with flowing lock of golden hair and his faceless followers, heading towards a fierce battle. Well, it was closest to where he was, so he had to notice them first. Not like he wanted to, anyways.

The youth was equipped with heroic armors, his cape fluttering in the imaginary wind, looking all gallant and stoic. As for the followers, they looked nothing like the hero.

No, the more apt description would put them in the categories of “Delta Force” soldiers, kitted out in camouflage clothing and carrying rifles of various lengths and sizes. Hell, one of them was even carrying a sniper rifle.

Kain chuckled weakly at the sight, feeling ever so foolish about his whole situation. He wasn't sure why he felt like that all of a sudden, but now that he had felt it, he could tell it might remain with him for a while.

The mural was painted expertly. Each figure depicted seemed like they might pop out of the wall and start shouting out words right there and then. He glanced at the rest of the mural, taking in the scene of a great war being waged by innumerable creatures on both sides. On the ground, in the air, swords clashing, horses neighing, blood spilling, war planes dropping bombs.... It was a mural of chaos.

There was a mountain in the background, however. Not only it looked out of place in this chaotic battlefield, it didn't resemble any normal mountain he'd seen, in this world or the previous one. It was perfectly geometrical, shaped like a pyramid, and made wholly out of an amber-colored crystal. And it was huge as well.

On the sky above this mountain, though, there was an odd depiction – the exact same mountain, but reversed top to bottom and seemingly falling on the ground below at a steady pace.

“The Fall of the Crystal....”

Kain and Emma murmured simultaneously after locking eyes on this falling mountain. They glanced at each other, instinctively understanding what that falling mountain was supposed to be, yet unsure of how they could tell.

Even the normally chatty Emma shut her mouth up, as she stared at this massive mural.

At the bottom of the mural, there was another plaque, but this one was well preserved and readable. On it, it said “The War of the Domination, circa His Holy Years 4498.”

Kain narrowed his eyes. Finally, a great clue to help him figure something out about this whole dead city have appeared before him.

Let's see, if I remember right, this year should be The Ages of Enlightenment, 0473. The Holy Years came to an end when the Empire was formally created – 473 years ago. Uh, in which year did Holy Years end? Oh, come on, I read this before so I should be able to remember this.

….

….?! Ah, it ended around the year 6000 or so. So.... uh, does that mean this mural is 2000 years old?! No wait, that's not right, is it? The artist could've just drawn what was written in the history. Hell, he could've drawn this yesterday, for all I know...

It might have been a clue, but it also left him slightly confused as well. He didn't feel so cool about that. He really thought this could have been a nice payoff to his small but difficult sojourn to this underground laboratory. Alas, it was not meant to be.

He didn't feel too disappointed, however, which was a markedly different to what he was feeling prior to entering this chamber. Right now, he felt like he had seen a part of history that was for some reason hidden from the public. Not once had he read anything about The War of The Domination, nor a gigantic mountain made out of amber crystal falling from the sky. This info was withheld from the regular joes, which was an interesting fact in itself.

Since he had no other clues to go on, all he had was a bunch of groundless hypotheses. Still, speculating on things were a fun activity to pass the time.

He wiped the plaque to see if there was other texts or letters but he saw none. Instead, a bolt on the corner came loose and the plaque itself fell off the wall with a loud clang that echoed in the empty chamber.

Emma gave him a reproachful glare. “What are you doing? You want to destroy this precious legacy of the past?”

“An accident, I swear,” said Kain, raising both of his hands defensively.

“Yeah, right. An accident, he says,” retorted Emma, before noticing that behind the plaque, there was a hidden opening there, with bits of exposed wiring. Kain too saw it, and bent down to take a closer look.

It was a hole big enough for his fist if he was so inclined to put it in there. When he peered in, he thought there was something shiny inside, seemingly within his reach if he wanted to take it.

Exchanging glances with Emma, the two of them debated without words on what to do. It was a simple decision for them, though. Kain decided to have a go at grabbing that thing, whatever it was. Maybe it could be a hidden medallion or a treasure worth untold millions. Who knows.

So, he reached in. It was deeper than he initially thought, only his fingertips scratching the surface. He struggled for a bit, before giving a loud hmph and pushed in harder. As a result, his outstretched fingers surrounded it, inching it closer.

Little by little, Kain dragged it until it was finally out in the open. Huffing and puffing, he lifted the item up in the air near the light to examine it properly, hoping that the haul was not a waste of his energy.

It was a gold disc shaped in an octagon, no bigger than his palm which made it quite small, about the size of a Big Gold coin. Its metallic luster hadn't faded not one bit, reflecting the light brilliantly.

“Score,” Kain chuckled, turning the disc this way and that. Even though there was no use for a trinket like this now, when he got out of here, naturally he'd need money to survive and a treasure like this would certainly help his cause.

Emma shook her head in disappointment this time around. “Oh well, I thought it was something important but turns out, it's nothing after all.”

Kain ignored her musings and carefully brushed the surface dust off it before biting it gently. He had seen some rich people do this on television, apparently this playful biting thing being a nice, roundabout way to confirm the authenticity of the gold itself. A real gold was supposed to be soft and malleable, meaning he should be able to leave his teeth marks on the surface if he bit down hard enough.

There was no feelings of his teeth sinking in, no “give” whatsoever.

Of course, this meant nothing much. Not all gold jewelry was soft, after all. There were tough ones too. Whatever, he saw it as a gold treasure, so he was more than happy. Although, if he had found a weapon for his size, preferably a firearm, then he'd be even more happier...

“Should we go back now? We've spent far too much time in here,” said Emma as she rested her hand on Kain's shoulder.

He nodded his consent. “Yeah, let's. I think it's nearly sunset too. Before it gets too late, we should head back. Other rooms, we can explore them tomorrow, right? It's not like they are going anywhere, anyway.”

So, the two of them headed towards the exit of this mural chamber, feeling like they have done something important and historic. Kain pocketed the disc in his trousers, securing it so it wouldn't pop out by mistake.

Emma slipped out of the chamber ahead of him as he was doing the securing bit. After safely tucking it in there, Kain was just about to step out when the sliding door noisily hissed and groaned, before slamming shut, locking him inside.

Dumbfounded, Kain staggered from the shock for a second before running towards the door and trying to pry it open. His efforts were in vain as his puny little fists couldn't do a thing to the sturdy, metallic door.

Panicking now, Kain was going to fire off an Invocation spell, when he heard Emma shouting from beyond the door. “Little Master Kain!! Are you alright in there?!”

“Yeah, so far. But we gotta open this door!!”

“What did you do before to open the door? Can't you do the same?”

Kain looked to the side of the doorway and saw the panel just like the one on the other side. However, this one had a couple more illuminated buttons on it, making it slightly more complicated to operate. And of course, predictably, the markings and letters were too faded to make out what's what.

“There is something here. I'm going to try opening the door, but I don't know what's going to happen so stand back a little,” shouted Kain.

After hearing Emma's confirmation, he studied the panel for a second before placing the flat of his palm on the scanner.

This time, there was a thin stripe of red light, but it only moved once before stuttering to a halt. He impatiently pressed his palm again and the same thing happened.

“Damn it!! Did the power run out? What the hell's going on here?!”

Kain continued to press his palm on the panel again and again until his skin turned red from all the force he had exerted. Clearly, this method was not working anymore.

Feeling desperate, Kain then proceeded to push one of the buttons present on the panel, hoping that either one was an emergency door release.

The button felt weighty against his fingers. It took a bit of force from him to depress it all the way in. And when it did, he heard a loud clanking noise, and a heavy tremor rocking the chamber's floor.

Then, there was a cacophony of mechanical noises coming from the deep beneath the floor, making Kain's face pale with a fear of the unknown.

Emma was shouting from the other side of the door. She too could hear the noises but was powerless to do anything. She even resorted to attacking the door but her strength and equipment were not adequate enough to even leave a scratch on the surface.

Kain felt the vibrations through his back as he stood against the door, choosing to stick closely to it in case something fortunate happens – like, it opening up.

Rather than the door, the various parts of the floor opened up instead. The loud mechanical noises intensified, as things began to rise up from all the openings.

In the middle of the floor, a hole as large as a minivan opened up, and a large rectangular box-like object rose up. Surrounding it were dozen bronze statues of burly men and women.

Their ascending speed slowed as the noises lessened until all objects lurched to a stop with a crunching sound reminiscent of a failing clutch on an old car. The hidden dust was kicked up and swirled in the air, creating a vivid mist under the indirect light.

Kain sucked in a heavy breath. Because, he sensed an oppressive aura oozing from the box surrounded by the twelve statues.

It was jet-black in color. It resembled a sarcophagus, except that it wasn't made out of stone. He couldn't even tell what the material was. There were numerous markings and hieroglyphs all over it, lending it a mysterious and ancient air to it.

The bronze statues were of warriors taking various threatening poses, their swords and spears and lances and staves drawn and ready to attack. The odd thing was, the statues had their weapons pointed at the sarcophagus, as if to restrain whatever was sleeping inside. As if, they were ready to strike down the black box the moment it showed a sign of life.

Kain gulped loudly. The sound of his saliva entering his throat was loud enough to echo in the still chamber. He realized that the temperature of the room just dropped a couple of notches, causing goosebumps to break out on his skin.

He hurriedly opened his Aeterna vision to take a look, and got a fright of his life.

Because, for the first time in his life, he saw the color of Aeterna he'd never, ever seen before – a pitch black light, emanating from a sun-shaped sphere hidden within the center of the sarcophagus. It felt like as if it was sucking up all the other Aeterna around it, greedily munching on them and absorbing them, eliminating the very forces of life from the existence. In exchange, it was oozing out this sinister black light instead.

He felt his spine freezing up from fear. This was not from him being scared of the unknown. No, it was a purest, most instinctive form of primal fear. He feared whatever thing was letting off this.... this unholy type of Aeterna out.

Knowing he had messed up badly, he frantically thought of a way to reverse this situation. He realized quickly enough that since there was a button to bring it up, then surely there would be another button to store it below ground. And if one was following logic when building the switches, they should have been right next to each other.

Kain didn't hesitate in pressing the button next to the one he pressed. This one didn't budge, refusing to move. Stuck in place with years, decades, centuries and millenniums' worth of non-maintenance meant it'd need more than simple but frenetic presses from a six-year-old kid.

So he made a fist and slammed down on the offending button, hard. That made things worse.

Rather than the sarcophagus and the statues descending back down, there was strange movement on the lid of the black box, as if it was going through an unlocking sequence. The statues then began to actually move. They actually moved, standing even taller and ready to throw down, their expressions becoming even more fiercer.

A streak of cold sweat ran down his back. Kain was cursing like a sailor inwardly at the moment.

What kind of a sadistic idiot places an “Open Evil Casket” button next to a door release?! Huh? Shouldn't it be “Go the hell back down” button instead?! This is so wrong, wrong, wrong!! If I ever meet the douchebag who came up with this set-up, I'll kick his ass real good!!

~
​

In the meantime, the Old Man was standing at the front of the Lomax residence in the village of Riverfield. The double-story house looked exactly as Kain had described it.

The Old Man gazed around, feeling rather impressed at the gentle vibe the whole place was giving out. He was here to talk to the boy's parents as per his request.

Although he wasn't too sure about this, he knew that deep down, putting the minds of the grieving parents at ease would do a world of good to the boy's psyche, helping him to steady his mind and focus wholeheartedly on becoming a fine, nay, a great martial artist.

Having said that, he only felt the presence of two adult males inside the house, which was odd, considering the family situation his disciple mentioned in the past. Where were the women folk disappeared to?

He slowly lifted his head and gazed at the skies above the city of Lafayette to the distance. There, he could see the servant of a false god circling in the air, searching and waiting, invisible to all naked eyes except his. His powerfully developed Shang, coupled with highly advanced Yi Hai allowed him to clearly discern the vile creature no problem.

The Old Man thought that as soon as he was done talking to the parents of Kain, he'd go and take care of the servant but, even from here, he could tell that it wouldn't be an easy battle, especially with his current illness.

He had the full confidence to win, but he knew avoiding further injuries would be difficult. If so, then that threw all his plans into jeopardy.

The Old Man had planned to go on a journey to find his old friend who would help out with the boy's training. But he'd have to go into a secluded meditation once more to heal his wounds and that would delay the schedule even further. Worse, once defeated, the false god would know something happened here in this Realm, thereby complicating the matters unfavorably for the Old Man.

“Hmm, what to do....”

The Old Man stood on the outskirts of the Lomax residence's front yard, slowly stroking his beard. He had a complicated expression on his face, his eyes drifting away into a deep, deep thought.

Only if he knew where his friend had gone off to. Then he'd send a ch'i infused soundwave that would send his message to the target and call forth the friend here.

“Hmm. How bothersome....”

The Old Man frowned a little.

He sensed that one of the males began to move inside the house. It seemed this person had sensed the Old Man somehow, even though he was hiding his aura.

The man who appeared in the doorway was not Derrick, but it was a tall, thin man with a swept-back blonde hair pulled tightly behind his head. His cold, piercing gaze fell upon the Old Man, scrutinizing, studying.

The Old Man understood that his man was expertly hiding his murderous aura. A man who had ended quite a few lives, the Old Man mused.

The tall, thin man walked briskly over at where the Old Man was, before stopping a few feet away. “May I help you, sir?” He asked in cold, detached voice.

His face placid, the Old Man inquired. “I came here to see... the owner of the house.”

The Old Man spoke the note-perfect Empire Standard Dialect. He sounded just like a citizen of this sprawling empire. If Kain heard him now, he'd be utterly shocked by the natural intonation of the Old Man's accents.

The tall, thin man narrowed his cold eyes. “Sir Baron Lomax isn't home at the moment. But I shall take a message if you are inclined to leave one.”

“Oh? So, when is he expected back?”

“His absence is unscheduled and thus it is not known when he might return. Now, is there anything else, sir?”

The Old Man chuckled. “Hmm. That is unfortunate.... Well, whoever you might be, take this message and give it to... the baron, when he decides to come home.”

The tall, thin man hid his irritation well, but the Old Man could sense that this guy was thumbing a dagger beneath his cloak, ready to strike him at a moment's notice.

He was bemused at such level of unwarranted bloodthirst. Outwardly, the tall, thin man hid it well, but no one could hide their desire to shed blood from the Old Man's piercing gaze.

The amusement factor came from the fact that no matter how proficient this guy was with handling a dagger, he'd stand no chance against the Old Man. Hell, a thousand of this tall, thin man attacking at the same time would still be insufficient to even ruffle his sleeves.

Chuckling once more, the Old Man then decided not to waste any more time here and move on. “The message is this; Baron Lomax's son is safe and sound. He's being well looked after, so stay your worries. That's all.”

The complexion of the tall, thin man paled briefly when he heard the Old Man's words. But he recovered quickly, and without missing a beat, he stepped before the Old Man in a domineering fashion. “Are you here to play a prank of such poor tastes? Are you trying to lose your head, sir?”

The Old Man waved his hand dismissively. “Believe it, don't believe it, I don't care. Do what you will. I only came here to deliver the message.”

The tall, thin man then unsheathed the dagger and pointed at the Old Man's neck. “If what you say is true, then where is he? Tell me now, or forfeit your puny life right here, foreigner.”

The Old Man raised an eyebrow. It was true that he looked nothing like the standard citizens of the Empire, who were all European in appearance, while he had a countenance of an Asian. Even with the perfect dialect, some would always suspect that he did not originate from within the Empire's borders.

Still, the word foreigner ticked him off slightly. So, the Old Man languidly raised a fingertip and lightly tapped the dagger. It crumbled to dust in an instant.

Alarmed, the tall, thin man quickly withdrew and tried to unsheath his sword but the moment his eyes blinked, the white robe-wearing old man before him had vanished into thin air.

Stunned into silence, the tall, thin man, Sir William Fordham Wincaster, stood there, hastily scanning the surroundings with little success.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 37

37​

William was dumbfounded. That mysterious old foreigner was only here a moment ago, yet now, he had vanished without a trace. It wasn't like they were in the middle of the moonless night; the late autumn sky was clear and blue, the sun shining down brightly on the world. The visibility was better than good, even.

Not to mention, they were quite literally many many yards away from anywhere remotely possible to hide in. A mangrove of trees were at least dozens of feet away and there was just no way anyone could move that fast. Just no way in hell, thought William. Unless Invocation was involved.

But even then, that didn't make any sense. To cast an Invocation spell, one would need to chant the Requisite Words. That took time regardless of how shortened it was. Plus, appropriate Aeterna Elements had to be wielded. With William's trained eyes and highly attuned senses, detecting that subtle, invisible shift in the atmosphere wouldn't be too difficult.

Yet the old man was gone. No matter how hard he searched, he saw no proof that he was indeed talking to someone a minute ago.

William's face became a shade darker. If what that old foreigner said was true, then it was quite a blunder. There was no reason to believe every random stranger that came up to him but it paid to be cautious, especially in his line of work. He had to alert his comrades as soon as possible.

“Sir William, what is it? Is there something wrong?”

Derrick asked as he emerged from the front door of the double story house.

William hid his complicated expression and turned to see his current quarry, shaking his head a bit. “No, Sir Derrick. I thought there was an unknown presence here but it seems I've raised a false alarm.”

Derrick frowned as he felt there was something strange going on here, but held back his questions for now, instead choosing to simply nod. “Very well. Shall we return to the office? I still require your expertise in correctly calculating the crop yield projections for the next three years.”

Sheathing his sword back in the scabbard, William slowly walked back. His face was as same as always, cold and detached and disinterested, but inwardly his mind was churning at a great speed, deciding on what needed to be done.

He'd have to find a way to get the words out, which wasn't difficult as he possessed a short-range communication crystal. But as for making sure that no one would overhear the contents, now that might take some imagination on his part.

After all, he was here to watch Derrick Septima Lomax, to make sure that he may never become a future threat to the grand plans of the organization.

He was about half way to the entrance when a sudden flash of light in the skies above the city of Lafayette caught his eye. It was very brief, and by the time he turned his gaze towards the direction where it came from, he couldn't see anything anymore.

“A flare from the sun....?”

Narrowing his eyes, William studied the blue, cloudless sky, wondering whether he was going insane or not. He spent some time searching. Whatever it was, he didn't want to miss it, like he did with the old foreigner.

Noticing that William hadn't entered the house yet, and rather spending the time observing the sky, Derrick followed suit and gazed outside as well, wondering what was so important as to draw the attention of normally cold and detached person like the young Sir Fordham Wincaster.

As if to reward their curiosity, there was another flash, slightly brighter than before. Also, it lasted a smidgen longer too, allowing both of them to track the origin of this light.

William brought his hand up to shield the eyes from the sun's glare and concentrated. Just as he was getting accustomed to the distance, a bright light shot out like an extending rainbow, and an insanely large explosion rocked the landscape, blinding him completely.

~​

Captain Giles yawned loudly as a glint of teardrops formed at the corners of his eyes. The boredom was killing him.

He was currently manning his post as the boss-man of the Southern Gate for his city, Lafayette, the job he'd been doing for the better part of a decade. First as a mere grunt, a poorly-paid foot soldier with no benefits. But now? He had successfully climbed the hierarchy. He had a platoon of men under him, following his orders like clockwork. His pay was good. People recognized him, respected him.

He had made it, in other words.

Wiping away the tears as discreetly as possible, Giles swept his gaze over at the queues of people waiting to enter his city. His underlings – soldiers under his command – was busy performing the entrance procedures on the new arrivals, explaining things, taking the Truth Boards and getting them registered.

Back when he started out, that was Giles's Job. Well, not anymore. As the captain, he had little to do currently other than to look important. Sure, there were a few ruffians chancing their luck trying to enter the city but hell, his unit operated like a well-oiled Sky Ark. Or should that be well-Aeterna-ed? Whatever, none of those idiots knew what hit them.

Funny thing, though, was that nowadays he had more people “initially” leaving the city via his Gate rather than the other way round. Those leaving came by Sky Arks, headed for the rest of the provinces for god-knows-what businesses of theirs. Giles wasn't too terribly interested in them, obviously. As long as his city was safe and sound, especially for his fledgling family, all was well.

“Captain, you see that?”

A rookie recruit came over to where Giles was standing and pointed at a caravan that was waiting in a queue some distance away. This young man was a son of some local bigwig or another; Giles was told by his superiors to make the boy comfortable if possible. What a bother that was.

“What about it?”

Hiding his slight irritation at his young charge, Giles asked.

“That caravan.... isn't that too big to be a normal sort of caravan for farmers, Captain? Shouldn't that line up where the merchants go? It's definitely too suspicious, sir.”

Giles chuckled bemusedly. “Well, my overeager subordinate, there could be many reasons why that is so. Maybe the owner of the caravan is new to the city and doesn't know the rules. Maybe it is not a merchant's caravan. Maybe, it's packed full of city-raiding bandits!!”

The young soldier frowned at Giles's attempt at light humor. “But sir, it could be important!!”

“Well, maybe.” Giles slowly scratched his stubble, contemplating with a sigh. After a short while, he decided on the next course of action. “Oh alright. Go with a couple of guys and check it out, if it bothers you that much. Hey, Hannigan, Ruperse!! Go with this guy here and check that caravan at the back.”

Giles didn't see problems with allaying the fears of the rookie. Everything he did, people he came in contact with, all of that would become a foundation to become a better soldier in the future. So, no loss in checking out something that might be suspicious from a glance.

The young guard nodded, his face bright. He immediately joined the senior guardsmen and headed to the caravan in question. Seeing the back of this eager young man, Giles sighed wryly. Once upon a time, he was just like that, wanting to make a name for himself. All to get a promotion faster and prove that he was indeed a jewel in the rough, simply waiting for a much-deserved recognition.

After advancing through the ranks at no different pace than his colleagues, he had come to a realization, though. And that was....

He was not that special after all. A crushing disappointment, that. A blow to the self-esteem. A low blow, too.

Because of his pursuit, his goal, he ended up getting married pretty late in his life. His daughter was still a mulling baby, while his friends had all gone and became fathers of multiple children, settled households, respectable members of society and all that grown-up stuff.

Giles, after realizing his folly, also became a lot more mellow. Nowadays, he was quite content with his post, his salary, and with his sphere of influence.

He smiled wryly once more, thinking that if his past self looked at him now, he'd get a rude shock to the system. How people change, faced with the inevitable, constant and ceaseless flow of time.

“Oh, it's Captain Giles.”

A familiar voice called his name out so Giles turned to face the origin. A band of Adventurers, numbering a dozen heads and equipped for a journey of some length, was about set off, horses and a caravan packed with supplies alongside them. Their leader had recognized Giles and was calling out to him.

Giles waved his hand. “Phil. You're heading out?”

Philander Cosier, the Adventurer who belonged to the same guild as Damien, approached the captain and shook his hand briefly. “Yes, a search and rescue op just came in. We'll be gone for a few days.”

“Mmm. I wish you luck, Phil. Your men, too. I hear there's some sort of outbreak of low-level Fiends down by the South? By the Sanctity Pass, was it?”

Phil nodded. “Yes, we're heading there, predictably. We'll be careful.”

As the two men spoke, both of them felt a sudden chill creep up on their skin. All the hairs on their bodies were standing up.

“What the....?”

Giles frowned and grabbed the hilt of his longsword. He hadn't had to draw it too many times in this line of work, but he sure felt like unsheathing it right now. It was the same for the seasoned Adventurers. Phil had already drawn his weapon, searching for the origin of this aura.

An aura of deadly threat bore down on everyone on the ground, making the normal, untrained civilians to shudder and faint in fear.

There was a muffled grumble from above their heads, so both Giles and Phil hurriedly looked up. It was at that moment a brilliant flash of light blinded them all.

~​

The Old Man left confused William behind and took to the sky toward the city of Lafayette, making a straight beeline at the unknown creature. His plan hadn't changed – he still needed to kill that thing before it somehow latched onto the boy's life signature, his Aeterna presence, whatever it was these false gods used to track their prey.

He used ch'i to basically cancel his weight acting against the air molecule, thus enabling him to run on air, which, outwardly at least, looked like he was actually flying. Might as well – his speed was terrifying to behold. As fast as a bullet train, as sharp as a glint of a finely honed katana; all his movements redefined the term “awe-inspiring.”

In a flash, he had crossed the gap between the skies of Riverfield and the city of Lafayette. However, his rapid approach didn't go unnoticed. The strange creature, its nearly-black and almost illusory body that was constantly flickering in its shape, turned towards the Old Man, and began radiating a chilling aura of death.

Having fought and survived countless battles involving powerful adversaries, the Old Man could sense its hostilities right away and so, he stopped a good dozen meters or so before the creature.

What puzzled him, though, was the reasons for it to hover in the air over this particular city for weeks. As far as he could tell, Lafayette, while large and bustling, didn't seem all that remarkable. Yet there was something here that attracted the creature.

And whatever it was, it must have proved to be elusive as well, since the creature was simply going around in circles, as if it was trying to pinpoint the faintest of faint scents left behind by its prey.

Before deciding to confront it, the Old Man did observe it via his Yi Hai but honestly, he could not figure this out. According to his cowardly disciple, he had only ever been to Lafayette once for a brief period of time. So, his....scent would not have pervaded the streets and the buildings of this city.

If then, what could be the reason for the creature to stay doggedly behind, circling around like that tiny piece of crap refusing to flush down the toilet no matter how many times you try?

As soon as the creature reacted to his presence, the Old Man had to abandon his thoughts on unraveling the mystery, at least for now. Him coming out of this encounter alive and largely unhurt was far more important.

The current him was far too weakened, as shameful as it was to admit. Still, he would not be a man if he let a challenge go begging, even if it was due to misplaced pride, maybe even that of a martial artist's ego.

The Old Man slowly neared the creature, noticing its lone violet-colored pupil turning to place his image in its eye. He felt a chilling sensation, a premonition of some sort of deadly crisis looming ever so largely.

Instinctively, he stopped his approach and raised his guards up, reinforcing his body, both internally and externally with a simple technique called Soul Defense. It was a skill that was exactly opposite in nature as the Soul Crusher, intended to perform the exact opposite purposes. And it could be done faster than the speed of light.

The moment he got his dukes up, there was an enormous explosion of Aeterna-infused energy. When the shock waves slammed into the Old Man, his facial expression grimly flickered for a second, before returning to a calm one.

With just this amount, the Old Man wouldn't be harmed but more importantly, the same couldn't be said for the people living below. He was not heartless enough to fight over the skies of a heavily populated city. Otherwise, the collateral damage would be a no laughing matter. A price that not even he was willing to pay.

He thought about a way to draw its sole attention to himself. With him withstanding this initial attack, he was successful. All that's left was to draw it away, far, far from here where he could then cut loose.

So, as far as the first attack was concerned, he'd give that one to his opponent. Just that, he didn't expect it to hit him so hard right off of the bat.

Once the flash of light subsided, the Old Man emerged, unscathed. He flicked his sleeves as if he was annoyed, and stroked his beard nonchalantly as if he was contemplating the directions of the passing wind.

“Hmph. I don't know who your master is, but how rude. If you want to throw down, I welcome it, but you should learn to discern the level of your opponents first, lest you get beaten black and blue!!”

The Old Man infused ch'i to his voice and spoke out. He didn't care whether the creature could understand him or not, as long as the crux of his message was transmitted.

The creature trembled and its single eye narrowed as if it was assessing the current situation.

Seeing this, the Old Man smiled imperceptibly. It did seem to possess a decent level of intelligence, which would certainly make this battle a bit more.... exciting for him. Well, a deadly type of excitement, to be precise.

“Come. This battle is inevitable. You are an eyesore and I shall eradicate you, ridding this world of an unneeded headache. As simple as that.”

The Old Man beckoned it, his facial expression one of imperiousness. The creature frowned, quite clearly unhappy at the Old Man. However, there was a small but definite change in the direction of its attention before things could develop further.

The Old Man's face fell when he saw this. Something had snatched the attention he had brought upon himself. As to what that was, he didn't know.

The creature then made an unreadable expression. Via his powerful perception, the Old Man felt a sudden spike in the creature's aura.

It was incredibly fast, the way this spike happened. Not even he could react quickly enough. That spike caused another Aeterna explosion to ring out, but this one was several times more vicious and deadly compared to the previous blast. Good thing, then, that he kept his defenses up, never slacking it, not even once.

Mere moments before that sudden, unexplainable spike in the creature's power, Kain was confronting the mysterious sarcophagus that was about to open up and reveal its contents.

~​

The atmosphere inside the mural chamber was fast becoming rather like that of a horror movie. Menacing, buzzing bits of reddish-black electricity arced all around the black sarcophagus, as the mechanical noises of things unlocking intensified.

Kain's face had lost all colors for some time now. Instead, it was quickly becoming pale blue from the lack of oxygen as he forgot to breathe. He was worried that by inhaling he might make too much noise and draw the attentions of the robotic bronze statues that were eyeing the sarcophagus with intensely hostile gazes. If the looks could kill, then those could definitely murder a whole bunch without even trying.

Kain frantically stabbed the control panel with his fingers, hoping to create a miracle. Either opening the doors or at least stopping the whole unlocking shenanigans happening before him would qualify as one.

His Aeterna vision was showing him that the tightly coiled energy of the black sphere inside was slowly unfurling like the wings of a devil, matching the speed of the sarcophagus's lid opening up. The process was very mechanical, kinda reminding him of the casket from the movie Stargate, except that it was far more unsettling than that of the cinematic masterpiece. That's a personal opinion, of course.

The bronze statues began to take stances that looked even more threatening than before, almost getting ready to pounce with their weapons firmly pointing at the sarcophagus. The lid, and indeed the whole black box, lurched and creaked. Like an oversized origami puzzle, the whole thing unfurled methodically.

The black light of unknown Aeterna intensified, spreading its overwhelmingly negative aura around the chamber. Kain swore that for a second there, he thought the walls were melting from the intense energy fluctuation emitted by the black sphere.

His own Aeterna Pool undulated violently. It seethed and became increasingly difficult to keep it under conscious control. It simply wanted to go on a rampage, leave his body and meld into that sphere. Quite frankly, that thought terrified him even more.

Emma was busy shouting from the other side of the unmoving door. She was doing all sorts of things as well, but Kain could barely hear her muffled words through the walls. The black Aeterna light was gradually drowning out all the other sounds in the mural chamber, and it was getting harder to even hear his own thoughts at this rate.

Almost instinctively, Kain began rotating ch'i through his meridians. To his relief, he found that the intense pressure weighing down on him lessened immediately, allowing him to breathe in and out for the first time in what surely felt like in years.

Encouraged by the result of this unexpected lucky happenstance, Kain continued to cycle what little ch'i he had in his system. The result was that his Shang activated too, and allowed him to peek even deeper into the black sphere.

And inside it.... he saw a silhouette of a person, in a fetal position. It was black too, and the source of all that black Aeterna was this.... thing.

Kain felt a huge dollop of chill run down his spine when this black figure slowly raised its head and stared at him directly. Which was funny, considering that there was the matter of still-opening sarcophagus between him and it.

Oh, crap. I gotta get out of this place, ASAP!! What the hell is that thing anyway??

Kain redoubled his efforts in trying to open the reticent door. He stabbed the panel until his fingers were aching from the pain. It was not working at all.

“Oh, c'mon, gimme a freaking break already!!”

Kain shouted out aloud, no longer caring whether the statues noticed him or not. He then formed a fist and punched the panel as hard as he could out of sheer frustration.

The panel's surface cracked and hissed meekly. The “ERROR” sign flickered on the display like a dying candle before whizzing off completely. Now, the panel was dead for good.

Kain cursed inwardly and was this close to trying out a Soul Crusher fist attack out of desperation when he felt the chill on his back intensify greatly. His senses screamed at him, telling him that a monster of unimaginable horror was about to wake up. All thanks to him pressing a few wrong buttons in a poorly-designed laboratory from the past that was already suffering from the lack of TLC.

This just felt so damn unfair, really, when he thought about it very, very briefly.

The sarcophagus began collapsing on itself, the origami puzzle now fully unlocked. And with all that dramatic unveiling, the black sphere was finally revealed to the world – or, at least, to this large mural chamber's audience.

Oddly enough, it was not black as he initially thought. No, it was gold. And shaped like an egg, too. What's even more puzzling was that the whole thing was no bigger than Kain was. It shone with an utterly magnificent, brilliant golden light, which was completely different from what he saw before.

Such a spectacle couldn't fool Kain's fast-developing senses. Through the Aeterna vision, he saw the intensity of the black light increase, to a point where now it began to manifest in reality as well, melting with the golden beam and thus turning into a violet hue. Meanwhile, via Shang, he saw the black figure slowly moving from inside the egg-shaped sphere. And it was still looking at Kain, although the terrified boy couldn't tell what the creature or the thing was thinking of.

The egg was covered in Invocation circles and arrays, and at a cursory glance, an experienced Invoker would be able to tell that all of them were meant to seal away whatever was locked inside.

But, for some reason, those seals were getting weaker and weaker by the second. Even Kain could see that the flows of Aeterna around those arrays were markedly getting chaotic as the violet light grew harsher and harsher.

Outside the chamber, even Emma was affected by the powerful aura. Her face lost all color, shocked at this emission of terrifying energy that possessed enough malice to unsettle the influence of Nature Divine Spirits's blessings cast on her.

She redoubled her own efforts to open the locked door, now launching proper attacks with weapons and items available on her person. The door, made out of the advanced alloy that combined titanium and a small amount of highly-refined Mythril, didn't even budge.

The golden egg slowly floated up in the air, and as if shaking off a layer of dust, it trembled gently. The arcane letters, symbols, and lines of the various Invocation arrays and circles drawn on the surface crumbled, sliding off the surface like fine grains of desert sand and fell on the bottom of the sarcophagus, finally dissipating like a wisp of a cigar smoke.

The egg continued to tremble, as cracks appeared on the surface, one by one. At first, it was just one, then it became two, then three, four, eight, twenty, hundred.... Soon, cracks covered its entirety. The violet light grew so overwhelming that Kain could barely keep his eyes open. If it weren't for his ch'i helping him, he'd go blind from the exposure to the blinding light for too long.

The eggshell melted away, and a small figure finally emerged from it, emitting a dense, brilliant violet light. Its proportions were that of a fit adult man but funnily enough, it was quite small, like a Hobbit. However, that was not important. What was important, was the identity of the thing.

Kain blinked several times, just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

The small figure, who now stood in the air with a proud stance, a sneer of contempt plastered all over his face which was directed at the twelve bronze statues surrounding him, looked exactly like the young, gallant hero depicted in the mural. Apart from the weird smallness of his physique, that was. Even the heroic full body golden armor was the same as the mural.

However, the aura oozing from this guy was nowhere near nice and hero-like, as it was in the mural. If anything, it was of pure arrogance, surely unfitting of a leader of men.

There was something else that Kain noticed on this mini knight. Rather than a pair of normal, regular irides he had a pair of spooky violet-colored eyes. They shone with a cold gleam, surveying the statues as if baiting the bronze giants on to making the first move. And move they did.

The bronze statue of an Amazon-esque woman attacked first. She held a long spear with a sharp and narrow spearhead that was actually longer than the body of the spear itself.

The pointy weapon shot forward at a break-neck pace. The mini-knight slanted his head to left, dodging the thrust by mere millimeters. Almost at the same time, the bronze statue with a giant halberd swung his weapon down with a fearsome momentum.

The mini-knight spun on his heels, letting the halberd slice the air where he used to be a blink of an eye ago. The third statue with a trident also thrust out his three-pronged weapon but the knight, with a sneer of contempt lightly jumped on the spot and twisted in the air, narrowly escaping the trajectory of the weapon.

All this happened so fast that a normal person would not have followed the action with naked eyes. Only someone like Kain, who had his perceptions greatly enhanced with Shang, could barely keep up.

The other statues pounced forward. The mini-knight was caught in the air, and he had to fend off the incoming attacks rather than simply dodging them.

The mini knight used his bare hands to deflect and block the attacks, but whether due to conceit or the sheer level of skills of the statues, some of the weapons made their way past his seemingly impeccable defenses.

A spear gouged a chunk of the knight's side; another, an arrow as thick as a baby's forearm slammed into the knight's chest. A spear with Naginata-like blade sliced past the left arm of the knight, nearly severing it. A long sword pierced the stomach area while yet another polearm targeted the open back, successfully penetrating beyond the protection offered by the golden armor.

Those weapons were massive even when looked at from a normal perspective, so when they struck the mini-knight, they looked comically out of proportions. It was a small miracle as to how the knight withstood the impact of all those weapons.

The look of contempt was replaced by the one of outrage, as the knight shrieked in a high-pitched scream that no living human being could make. Kain felt his consciousness shake as the soundwaves of the scream reached his eardrums.

It was a hell of a vicious scream, seemingly borne out of pure, unadulterated hatred towards his enemies, rooted deeply inside the knight's core. The shrill scream pushed back the bronze statues off their feet, leaving behind the weapons stuck in the knight's body.

And as the statues stumbled backward, they could not launch the second volley of attacks. This breathing room allowed the knight to suddenly explode with a surge of power, his size expanding immediately.

It only took the amount of time needed for a single breath; the mini-knight became a full-sized knight that quickly. Not even skipping a beat, the knight then grabbed the arrow still stuck in his chest and yanked it out, a stream of violet liquid jetting out from the open wound. Quite dramatic to look at, actually.

The knight then turned his head once more towards Kain and stretched his remaining hand out. He opened his bloodied mouth and spoke, but no sound came out. However, a booming voice reverberated in the boy's mind.

COME!!

The knight screamed in a weirdly digitized voice. Kain's Aeterna Pool churned even more violently, trying to escape from his control, out of his body and straight into the knight's grasp.

Kain knew instinctively that if he allowed his Pool to abandon him, then he'd surely die here. Obviously, he would not let that happen without a fight.

He immediately circulated almost all of his ch'i stored in Xia, not caring about the fact that if he was not careful in his control via Zhong, his body might implode. This was the only way he knew right now on how to counteract the overwhelming difference in controlling the flow of Aeterna that existed between him and the knight.

Still, his accumulated ch'i was not enough. It was, for a lack of suitable words, too thin. Plus, his control of the energy itself was not good. Inevitably, all these resulted in his Aeterna Pool draining away.

The moment his Aeterna entered the knight's body, his vitality rapidly rocketed up. With a roar, he sent out a powerful pulse of pure, violet-colored energy out. At the same time, a small ripple broke away from this violent energy, heading out of the chamber.

~​

And this energy crossed hundreds of miles in a flash, punching through the time and space like a jet-black arrow. It headed towards the black creature currently engaged in a mortal combat with the Old Man over the skies of Lafayette.

When that small, almost imperceptible energy entered the creature, it reacted with a delight. Because, for the first time since it entered this realm, it had finally found the location of its target, the boy with the shared bloodlines from one of the Original Sinners and that of a Fallen Battle Maiden.

It calculated that there was no longer time to waste here, even though it sensed a minute amount of the Dimensional Gate Dial's aura over this city of mortals. After it had found and secured the boy, it would return and seek the artifact out. Mere mortals of this Realm lacked the qualifications to hold such a dangerous item, as far as it was concerned.

But first, it needed to eliminate the powerful human in front of it. Thus, it decided not to hold back and let out the most powerful burst of energy it could afford without completely depleting its own reserves.

That was the reason why the second explosion was far more vicious and grand in scale.

The aftermath of the attack left a crater the width of several football fields and the depths best measured in nautical miles over Lafayette's residential area. It was quite obvious from even a cursory glance that there wouldn't be any survivors from this devastating attack.

Even the Old Man was left wounded, albeit only with superficial scratches that didn't hinder his abilities to fight.

However, that didn't mean he was enjoying a pleasant day out, feeling all nice and happy. Nope.

Right now. he was royally pissed off. His white robe was in tatters, revealing lean but tautly muscled torso that was full of minute scars and burn marks from the battles of the past.

He was pissed because he dawdled for too long and people unrelated to this matter paid the ultimate price for it. He was pissed that he'd become this weak and feeble, unable to even counteract the simple attack of this third-rate creature. He was pissed off because the very same weak-ass monster looked down on him and tried to kill him with such a rubbish, unfocused blast. A proverbial slap in the face, that's what it was.

He began to let off a scary amount of ch'i-infused aura. Suddenly, the creature felt Death staring squarely at it and widened its eye in shock.

The Old Man shot forward, covering the great distance between it and him in a flash, landing a huge kick. However, there was an invisible shielding of Aeterna protecting it from the attack. This shield served two purposes of protecting it from a sudden attack, as well as keeping it invisible to the naked eyes and the perceptions of the mortals.

The shield did its job as intended and dispersed most of the force behind the kick. Nevertheless, it could not fully absorb all of the power and shattered with a loud “Pah!!” The remaining force propelled the kick, continuing on until it splendidly connected with the one-eyed creature.

The impact forced it back at a lightning speed. But the Old Man had already appeared behind it.

Next was a mighty slap to its head with the flat of his palm, his other hand calmly tucked behind his back. It almost looked like he was swatting a fly.

And like a hapless volleyball, the creature slammed down on the crater with a huge boom, raising an equally huge cloud of dust.

The Old Man harrumphed coldly and came down to the impact site. On the ground where the impact occurred, there was another crater shaped like that of the creature.

“Come out now, you cretin. I'll exterminate you, and leave nothing for your master to recover – not even a bone. If you have one, that is.”

Responding to the threatening words, the ground vibrated harshly, and a second later the creature burst out of the scorched earth. Now, it no longer resembled a formless figure, but of a person.

Shockingly, though, now it resembled the very knight Kain was encountering at the same moment. However, it was only the outline of the creature. Its entire body was made out of a violet-colored, goo-like skin, seething and moving, sending out dense and deadly aura not too different from that of the mini-knight.

Of course, the Old Man was totally unaware of such a thing. All he could see was a loathsome creature trying to imitate a human. That was it.

“How repulsive,” murmured the Old Man. He looked around with his sharp perception and noticed that his flashy actions had drawn an audience with local Invokers. “Hmph. It's getting more troublesome now, isn't it.”

Frowning, the Old Man narrowed his eyes and took a Fu Hu Bu stance, slowly drawing his leg out and centering his weight into a compact form.

A single, violet eye split open in the middle of the creature's head, revealing a cold, hateful aura as it gazed at the Old Man.

“First, I should draw you out of this dang city,” the Old Man whispered imperceptibly, and then by borrowing the momentum built into his stance, he shot forward faster than a bullet.

His fist struck out, causing a rumble in the sky. The creature raised another Aeterna-infused shielding to block the attack, this time solely focused on defense rather hiding it from the eyes of the mortals. This naturally meant that the shielding this time was considerably tougher.

When the fist collided with the thin violet colored shield, a huge, booming shockwave swept out, further flattening the already flattened surfaces of the crater.

Snorting disdainfully, the Old Man struck out with his other fist, precisely on the exact same point where his first punch landed on. The shielding couldn't hold on anymore and cracked open.

The Old Man followed up with a devastating Soul Crusher which was on an another level altogether. The invisible explosion of ch'i utterly shredded the creature apart, not even giving it a chance to retaliate. The shielding shattered with an even louder “Pah!!” and the creature's mangled body was flung out backward.

However, the lone violet colored eye showed no change. It continued to look on at the Old Man with calm, collected coldness.

Irritated by this indifference, the Old Man again shot forward and slammed against the flying creature with his shoulder. Then, to follow it up, he held his hands together and pushed his elbow out with the strength of both arms.

The elbow connected with the creature's midriff with a thunderous boom, and a hole the size of bowling ball gouged out where the impact happened. Only then, did the creature react with a twinge of pain in its face.

The creature stopped flying back, and its broken, shredded body reformed into a solid one in an instant. A sinister, toothy mouth split open just below the violet eye, and from it, a violet colored hilt of a sword emerged. It looked rather plain, if not for the fact that it came out of a mouth of the creature. The creature grabbed the hilt and yanked it out of its mouth, dragging out a gleaming blade along with it.

Just by performing this action, the Old Man sensed another surge of power from the creature.

What a cliched development, the Old Man groaned inwardly. What the hell is this? Is it going to power up every time I damage it? What a pain in the neck this thing is turning out to be. My initial assessment of me not walking away from this fight uninjured may come true after all. Damn it.

~​

As the Old Man was fighting the one-eyed creature, Kain was trying his very best to hold onto his own Aeterna Pool. He wasn't succeeding at the moment, as he could only slow down the rate of it draining out.

However, the revived knight wasn't happy with the rate of the progress. The speed of draining the boy's Pool was far too slow, making him realize that the child was putting up a fierce fight. Now normally, the knight would have been impressed by the effort.

But he had no time to play a game with a child – there was the urgent matter of these infernal guardian statues trying to kill him.

The knight narrowed his eyes and took a step forward, intending to knock Kain out and weaken his resistance at once. It was only a single step, but the knight crossed the distance between them as if performing a teleportation. It was incredibly fast, too fast for anyone or anything, including the statues themselves to react.

Grinning savagely, the knight reached out with his one remaining arm. His fingers were within inches of Kain's forehead, and a single push would make the two points connect.

Kain's entire body quaked in fear as his ch'i-enhanced vision showed the knight's face no longer resembling a human. It was twisted hideously to show a face of a decaying, corrupted monster.

He leaned back, trying to keep his head away from the monstrous knight's touch. Reflexively, he closed his eyes. This somehow made his awareness focus more on that vivid imagery that was burned into his retina, therefore making things even worse. He was about to poop his pants.

The statues finally recovered from their knocked-down postures and pounced at the knight with an almighty haste. The time seemed to slow down to a crawl as the violently churning air became a hurricane, kicking dust and debris up in the air, black Aeterna whirling along with the tempest.

The knight's fingertip was about to touch the boy's skin. If that happened, he'd die without a doubt.

Right then in the nick of time, another golden light escaped from Kain's pants pocket. The light was quite faint, too weak to be noticeable in the intense storm of the violet light.

But the knight noticed it nevertheless. The vicious, greedy grin on his face instantly turned to a deep frown. Immediately, he backed off.

However, with a loud rip, Kain's pocket was torn right open, and the small golden disc shot out and hovered in front of Kain's dazed gaze. It gleamed in a brilliant hue, unperturbed in the sea of violet, and emitted a shockingly piercing noise that seemed to slice apart all the other sound in the mural chamber.

Seeing this disc, the knight howled in anger, but rather than pushing forward, he instantly backed up further, as if he wanted absolutely nothing to do with the boy anymore. Even him trying to siphon Kain's Aeterna Pool stopped right there and then.

This action gave the statues a wonderful opening, an opportunity they would not miss. They simultaneously launched a several, well-coordinated attacks at the back of the knight.

The knight's face flickered grimly, as he waved the only arm remaining and spun around sharply. Half of the attacks missed the mark but the rest landed as intended, and the knight spat out a mouthful of black liquid again. But the vicious grin returned to his lips.

He grabbed one of the polearms that were gouging his chest currently, and with an enormous exertion of hidden strength, pried the weapon loose from the grips of the statue that held it, breaking the wrists of the bronze giant in the process.

The giant staggered back, but his face showed no pain, only the inexhaustible determination to destroy.

With the newly-acquired weapon in hand, the knight went on the offensive. However, he was heavily wounded and lacked enough energy to mount any serious attacks against the bronze statues. After all, these giants were placed here to defeat the revived knight so, in effect, they were designed to be stronger than him at his peak.

Thus, the one-sided battle commenced right before Kain's stunned and now confused eyes.

Stunned, as the battle had progressed to a point where it seemed like the knight could not win no matter what.

Confused, at the hovering golden disc that could easily repel the knight's onslaught like it was having a nice, relaxed lunch.

I don't know what the hell's going on here, but boy, I sure am glad that I found that thing, Kain mused to himself, feeling rather relieved for now. Whatever, my current situation hasn't changed one bit. I gotta get out of here, ASAP. I could die if I get hit by a stray attack from one of those bronze giants!!

Kain reached out and snatched the floating disc off the air, trying to take it with him. In hindsight, this action might not have been the wisest one to make. But as the popular saying goes, hindsight was a....

Anyways. The moment his palm covered up the faint golden light emanating from the disc, the knight felt his repressed power surging back up.

This allowed the knight to swing the polearm with more vigor and strength. Of course, that was still nowhere near enough to defeat the twelve bronze statues but, crucially, that increase gave the knight a moment of breathing room to come up with a plan to escape this prison and break out of here.

Firstly, it had to deal with that child with the troublesome relic. That relic seemed to possess some sort of remnant will from the past him, well before he was influenced by the seductive qualities of the all-conquering power promised to him by the gods, the Undying.

Somehow, his remnant will that was placed on the relic had a way to suppress his strength. It had to be destroyed, no matter what. The knight could not recall just when he had commissioned such a thing, but hell, even if he did remember, it would be a useless distraction for him.

This short amount of breathing space allowed the knight to understand one more important fact: his current self was not complete.

The knight could tell that the body he possessed right now was missing several vital parts, fragments of his being, his soul. He needed to track down the missing bits and pieces if he wanted to return to the way he was. After making his escape from here, of course.

With his being whole again, then the knight would commence the one ambition that had eluded him before his downfall and the subsequent, humiliating incarceration.

That was to ascend to the realms of Godhood, to achieve his own immortality. To become one of the fabled Undying, and to sail beyond the boundaries of the Ten Realms and conquer the new lands.

The knight wanted to become a god. That was why he chose to become the corrupted being, all in the name of achieving that ambition. And nothing would stand in his way. Nothing.

The knight swung the polearm in a huge arc, pushing the bronze statues away from him. Using this opening, he then approached Kain once more, his weapon tip firmly trained on the boy's chest where his heart was.

Noticing the danger, Kain panicked. He raised his hands up to his face and squeezed the disc hard. At the moment of deadly crisis, the golden disc reacted and it pulsed with the brilliant light once more.

On top of that, Aeterna still remaining in his Pool also reacted with the disc, snaking out of him and fusing with the light. Before anyone could react, the polearm's bladed tip had reached the combined light of the disc and Kain's Aeterna reserve.

The golden light suddenly morphed into an illusory blade, and clashed with the knight's weapon, causing a huge, bellowing boom to resonate through the entire chamber and beyond.

The boom was infused with the black Aeterna as well as Kain's own, and fierce sparks coming from the two colliding with each other inundated the chamber. Whenever the spark hit something, there would be a total destruction – the floating debris got annihilated to fine dust, the previously-impregnable walls were scarred and scorched, the bronze statues' bodies got shredded. Even the knight bore the brunt of the backlash, spitting out another mouthful of black blood-like liquid.

There was now madness in his eyes. He just had to kill this boy and destroy that disc. They were the vain of his existence. The boy and his disc must be utterly destroyed, even if he suffered a grievous wound to his soul!!

It was at this point when one of those dangerous sparks scythed past Kain's messy hair and struck the locked door with a bang. The result was that the door was ripped to shreds.

This also allowed Emma to get a look-in at the chaos happening inside the mural chamber.

She couldn't hide her shock at the scene unfolding before her eyes.

There was a tempest of wind, kicking up dust everywhere. There were giant bronze statues trying to approach the knight, but being repelled by the said tempest. There were countless sparks of Aeterna slicing and pulverizing absolutely everything they came in contact with.

And in the middle of all that, little master Kain sending all his Aeterna to a gleaming golden disc, which in turn had formed an illusory sword around it, locked in a deadly stand-off against a human knight clad in tattered golden armor, a vicious grin etched on his face.

The dull, ruby-like gem on her necklace reacted to the pandemonium and glowed in crimson light, surprising Emma even more. However, that surprise only lasted for a millisecond.

Because she knew instantly what she needed to do here.

She then took the new, high-tech bow she had acquired in this facility. She had only a quiver of regular arrows, but they were going to be just fine.

She nocked one arrow on the bow, and pulled back, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

The crimson light then swirled around her and the nocked arrow, forming multiple layers of reinforcements and turning the wooden arrow into a red, crystalline item, emanating a shocking amount of powerful aura.

“Fly straight.... and true!!”

She whispered softly and let go of the bow string.

The crimson arrow shot out. It flew, as she hoped for, straight and true towards the knight's heart.

The knight tried to react. But his weapon was engaged, and could not be freed. And he lacked one arm to fend off the incoming arrow.

The knight roared as he tried to increase the density of the tempest caused by the black Aeterna. That was the only remaining defense for him.

The crimson arrow pierced past the strong gust of wind and walls of black Aeterna and slammed directly into the knight's chest. In that moment, the violet light in his eyes dimmed. More of that black liquid poured out from his mouth, his open wounds, his every orifice.

Emma nocked another arrow hastily, and the crimson light from her necklace fused with it once more. She didn't even hesitate and fired it, this time aimed at the knight's unprotected forehead.

The arrow punctured its target splendidly.

The violet light in his eyes dimmed even more, flickering weakly. The knight stumbled backwards, dropping the polearm to the ground. He screamed in pain as he desperately clawed at the crimson arrow stuck in his chest, then in his head.

The illusory sword of the golden disc swung down in a wide arc, aiming at the knight's chest at this critical moment. Kain grimaced as all his strength drained out while performing that single move.

The sword sliced the knight perfectly in half. The two cut pieces slid off each other and fell on the ground, and almost at the same time, the violent tempest dissipated as if it was a lie all along.

Kain plopped down on his ass, utterly exhausted to even stand on his two feet.

“Little master!!” Emma cried out as she rushed inside the chamber. She was still mindful of the bronze giants – they could be enemies, for all she knew. But before Kain could say out her name, the knight's body suddenly let out a terrible shriek and began to dissolve into a mass of a strange jet-black fog.

From this fog, countless shrieking wraiths emerged, all possessing horrifying shapes. They swirled in the air, dancing and howling like angry ghosts that they were.

The bronze giants and the golden illusory sword did their best to fight off the wraiths but there were just too many of them. More than a half of them escaped via the open door of the chamber and fled outside.

Many of theses Wraiths flew high until they were out of the planet's atmosphere, disappearing into the eternal darkness of the outer space, while a small handful stopped in their tracks and instead changed the direction towards the city of Lafayette, where the black creature was.

~​

Right at that moment, the Old Man was fighting a fierce close-range combat with the creature.

Even though he tried to lead the monster away from the city, whenever they moved to a certain distance away from Lafayette, the creature backed up and re-entered the boundaries, making the Old Man's blood boil like crazy.

Now, he didn't care anymore. The quicker he defeated it, the better it was for everyone involved.

The trouble was, the monster used that violet blade too damn well. An expert of close quarter combat like the Old Man was having a hard time trying to land a decisive blow.

Another problem was that the monster instantly recovered from all the damage inflicted on it, while the same could not be said for the Old Man.

No wonder his facial expression was getting darker by the second.

There were a handful of other techniques he could use to achieve the desired victory but by resorting to them his current illness would flare up, thereby shortening his already weakened lifespan. It was a catch-22 situation, in other words.

While trying to figure out what he should do, his perceptions picked up approaching Invokers and high-rank Adventurers. Enough time had passed since the initial explosion so their arrival was to be expected. The Old Man just spent too long here, that was all.

The creature swung the sword at the Old Man's head in a diagonal direction, and then pulled back the blade before stabbing forward sharply, slicing the air apart as it did so. The Old Man shifted his weight to his side briefly to dodge the first attack, then by utilizing the momentum from the movement, lightly weaved inside the enemy's blade to launch a counter.

The creature used its free arm to block the fist and at the same time, slammed down on the exposed back of the Old Man with the hilt.

Snorting coldly, the Old Man raised his other hand and nimbly redirected the hilt and twisted the wrist that held the sword. If it were a normal person, that wrist would have been broken.

Instead, the creature smirked as the wrist rotated, the sword swinging back toward the Old Man like a needle of a clock. As it tried to pierce him in this impossible angle, the Old Man unfurled the fist that was held in the creature's palm and pointed a finger at it.

The end result was that the creature was blown apart with a powerful burst of ch'i-infused attack.

The Old Man didn't stop his movements here. As the creature's body began to coalesce back together, his eyes were busy searching for the nucleus of this monster.

In his experience, this types of creatures and monsters usually possessed a core that acted as the central control system, a brain of sorts. By destroying that, the liquid-like substance – or, in this case, dense form of corrupted Aeterna – would scatter and become nothing more than common mud.

However, to his shock, the Old Man could not see nor sense the core in this creature.

After realizing this, he quickly withdrew to a distance, his face grim with the slightest hint of disquiet.

Have I made a mistake?! The Old Man grimaced. Is this creature fundamentally different from what came before?! Just which one of the false gods sent it here?

The creature's body reformed perfectly again, its single violet eye staring at the Old Man with a naked hatred and anger causing the Old Man to frown even more.

Dang it, do I need to go all out? Is there no choice in the matter anymore?!

Well, here you go, one of the longest chapter I've written so far. To tell you the truth, it was really tough, you know. Oh, my poor fingers...

 

Spoiler: Chapter 38

38​

The Old Man was stuck at the proverbial crossroad. The longer this fight dragged on, it'd only get tougher for him. His health and stamina would continue to decline, all the while the disgusting, loathsome enemy's would not, at least from what he gleaned during their exchanges so far.

With no weakness to speak of, the Old Man, who had fought and defeated stronger opponents in the past, could not see a way out with the current set of abilities he was forced to utilize.

The creature also had figured out that for some reason, its opponent could not deal a decisive blow that could end this battle. The corners of its mouth curled upwards in a very creepy grin.

The Old Man clicked his tongue in annoyance and rued the fact that he didn't have a single reliable weapon on him. In his haste to come here and kill this monster, he chose not to go and reclaim that one sword he had.... recovered years ago. The current whereabout of that weapon was known to him and the distance was near enough to cross in half a day if he “flew” with haste.

What a blunder. I should've gotten that first....

The Old Man shook his head slowly. Regretting over it wouldn't help his situation now. Better to forget about it, lest it became a mental hindrance as the fight dragged on.

Plus, he had no time for it anyways. His perception, or in this case, his sharp intuition, was busy telling him that he should not dilly dally anymore here. Because if he did, then an irreversible crisis might fall on him.

His intuition never let him down so far.

So, even at the cost of his own vitality, the Old Man forcibly accessed a portion of his stored strength, no longer giving a damn whether his body could take it or not.

Just as he was about to put that bit to a good use, the monster pounced viciously and swung the violet sword as if trying to cut down the whole world in one go.

The Old Man swiveled out of the arc and retaliated by aiming at the legs of the monster. However, a weird thing happened, something the monster hadn't done until now.

Just before the Old Man's low kick landed on the monster's legs, the gooey flesh of the creature split open and separated. And that meant the Old Man's kick swished past the now-empty air.

The unexpected miss slightly put him off balance. Not that such a thing would place him in mortal danger, no – but it was an opening the monster used in order to hurt him.

The arm that held the violet sword twisted to an unnatural angle again and tried to stab him from above. Rather that trying to dodge it like a regular person might, the Old Man simply carried on with the kick's momentum and spun. The previously low kick then became a rising roundhouse to the side of the torso, all the while the slanting posture of the body caused by the kick ensured the deadly sword would miss its mark.

The heel caught the shoulder of the creature that held the violet sword with a sharp, loud crack. The recipient of the blow was forced off its feet by the sheer venom hidden in the kick and was flung sideways at a rate of knots, causing sonic booms in its wake.

However, the creature recovered its posture mid-air and landed on its two feet. Snarling, it opened its toothy mouth and suddenly spat out a violet colored ball of highly condensed Aeterna.

The Old Man's face flickered with the realization that this seemingly innocuous ball of energy was actually a miniaturized, focused version of the energy blast the creature used previously to create the crater they were fighting in.

He could imagine that the power of this attack would be no laughing matter since all of that destructive force was focused into a single spot no bigger than the size of a baseball.

The violet-colored Aeterna ball trembled for a millisecond before shooting out at an incredible speed towards him.

Frowning deeply, the Old Man gritted his teeth and was resolved to dodge it, knowing full well that the current him couldn't block this attack face on and remain unscathed. But then....

But then, he remembered that if allowed to continue in its trajectory, the energy ball would no doubt slam into an area full of non-combatants. The resulting casualty would be immeasurable.

“Argh, damn it all to hell.”

Instead of blocking it, he had to parry it. Easier said than done, really.

Modifying the Soul Defense a tad, the Old Man circulated a fair whack of ch'i over his arms and the upper torso. By the time his body had taken on an ideal angle to deflect the ball of Aeterna, the attack was upon him. All of this took less than a blink of an eye, of course.

Rather than a clumsy, brute-force punt off the back foot, the Old Man received the ball of Aeterna, then gently let it rise upwards on the angle of his arms which were lined up straight. The ball, still no bigger than a baseball, traveled on the path he laid out and flew into the sky at an oblique angle.

In a flash, the violet-colored Aeterna ball flew to a height of a very tall mountain and exploded with an almighty boom. The resulting shock waves shook the cityscape below, even proceeding to flatten down the odd, poorly-built buildings here and there.

Not only that, the sky became dyed in an undulating violet color that looked like it was welcoming the advent of The Biblical Armageddon.

The Old Man didn't stand around admiring the pretty colors. No, he was busy moving forward, planning to perform another round of a balletic beatdown on the violet creature.

With the trembling sky looking like the surface of a violet sea serving as a dramatic backdrop, the Old Man arrived before his target and struck out with one of the techniques he refrained from using until now, fearing that it might worsen his condition.

His master, bless his soul, used to call it The Unyielding Fist – so called because it was to be used against beings deemed several times stronger than the user. A defiant statement of an unyielding desire to never back down from a challenge, this fist looked very simple at a first glance but the explosion of destructive power and speed behind the move was quite literally, unparalleled in any worlds.

The ch'i distorted the air around the Old Man as he punched forward, his body leaving behind dozens of afterimages as he covered an incredible distance.

As his knuckles were about to connect, the Old Man then sent even more ch'i forward to disrupt the creature's flow of Aeterna. His experience had taught him that the huge internal backlash caused by that was as damaging as his fist itself. So, how could he overlook a chance to inflict double the pain on his enemy?

The fist connected with a powerful thud. The ground below, and behind the creature caved in, cracking up into hundreds of small and medium sized chunks of debris.

The creature's facial expression distorted painfully, before letting out a howl of anguish. Its body briefly disintegrated in an explosive fashion before coalescing back into a single form again. As it solidified, the creature tried to grab hold onto the Old Man's arm and slash at the same time with its sword.

“Quite persistent, aren't you?!”

Snorting coldly, the Old Man then sent forth the second punch. This time, he only pulled back his fist a few inches, before slamming forward like a thunderbolt. This fist also carried a hint of vibration, invisible to all but the man himself.

This oscillating fist technique was something he came up with after years of battling Aeterna-laden monsters of this world. The harsh vibration was originally meant to disrupt the flow of blood, to damage the nerve endings, and in the cases of martial artists, to destroy their meridians. However, the Old Man also found out that in the right frequency, it could also heavily disrupt the flow of Aeterna and cause big injuries to the Aeterna-dependant creatures of this world.

Of course, the price for activating this technique was not small for him either in his current condition.

When this second fist struck the same area as where the first fist had landed, even the air behind the creature shattered, creating a vacuum void of all matter. The previously cracked ground also shattered, the rising dust and debris annihilated by the void and the devastating suction from it.

The creature's body shattered once more but this time, the way it did was different compared to before. Previously, it was like as if a gel-like liquid was scattering. But now, it was like a semi-hard plaster breaking apart. This slight difference did not escape the Old Man's observation, even as a line of black blood streaked down from the corner of his lips.

“So, now you're taking a proper damage, eh?”

The Old Man grinned coldly as he wiped the blood off his chin.

The violet creature quickly stepped back a several dozen paces even as its body reformed. As soon as its head was reconstructed, the Old Man noted that there was a trace of panic in that creepy, single-eyed face. That brought about a good deal of satisfaction in him.

Might as well, because he was not feeling too good at the moment. His three dan tians were churning unsteadily after he used the oscillating ch'i technique. As expected, using that fist attack inflamed his illness which he had been suppressing until now.

He estimated that maybe he could use this move five times and no more after that. That was his limit, otherwise his meridians would be too damaged to heal in a time frame he was looking at only with the closed-door meditation and resting. Worse, he could die if unlucky.

Breathing in deeply, the Old Man slowly took the stance to launch yet another fist attack when he felt a whole bunch of seriously ominous auras oozing from the side. Immediately his face darkened as the realization dawned on him.

“Idiots!!”

He cursed and hastily fled from the position he was in. Shortly after, the places he was standing on as well as where the violet creature stood recovering, were heavily bombarded with the variety of Invocation spells.

The rainbow-colored explosions of several Elements were eye-catching, to say the least. Even though the Old Man couldn't wield Aeterna, he was able to discern the different types of Elements cleverly mixed together to boost the destructive forces of the spells.

Winds violently whipped, pebbles and stones flew all over the place, and crimson flames burned the world mercilessly, surrounded by the cracking bolts of yellow lightning.

The Old Man jumped back until about a hundred meters away, coming to an abrupt stop there. He clicked his tongue in annoyance after seeing a few mixture of spells still stubbornly heading his way.

He had half a mind to beat up those idiotic Invokers for getting involved in this fight. However, conserving his energy was far more important, so begrudgingly he postponed the punishment plan of his.

As for the incoming spells, he dodged, blocked and blew them away.

The violet creature too didn't stand still and allowed itself to be bombarded by the foolhardy mortals. That would be too much of a slap in the face. It had already suffered serious injuries to its functions from the unknown human.

For some reason, after it had received that second fist attack the creature found it very difficult to gather and wield the surrounding Aeterna to its liking. If it weren't for the tremendous amount already present within, the creature would have worried a bit that it might not accomplish the sacred mission given to it by its supreme master.

But the things were looking up. Because the foolish mortals were actually delivering the sources of Aeterna straight to it. If it could not absorb the energy from the atmosphere by itself, then well....

It looked at the incoming barrage of spells and selected the ones that looked suitable. Among those, there were types he could not absorb due to the difference in the Elemental Affinity, as well as those that could damage it slightly if struck. So, the creature raised its Aeterna shielding up and deflected those that were threats, and for the others, it simply let through the barrier.

As the welcome influx of Aeterna flowed into its body, the creature grinned in a very sinister fashion. It felt its unstable body solidify greatly, allowing it to gather Aeterna on its own again.

However, it had made a critical mistake, something it failed to notice.

The Old Man, while dodging the spells, was carefully observing the creature. And he clearly discerned the Elements it absorbed and those it blocked out by actually spending its own reserves of energy. This told him a few great hints to go with.

So, you don't like Lightning, eh? The Old Man didn't show it outwardly, but he was carefully contemplating his new discovery. Specifically, red colored Lightning – the kind in seen in dry deserts. Combined with Wind Element and of Lightning Element to cause not only electrical damage but to weaken the fleshly body of the spell's target. Heh, not that I can cast this magic mumbo-jumbo anyways. Still, knowledge is strength, no denying that.

The Old Man now had an avenue to explore here. Since the straightforward physical attacks were ineffective, he was bound to utilize techniques that were taxing on his body. Like the oscillating fist earlier.

Since it had avoided Lightning-type spells, the Old Man could potentially use this.

The truth was, by controlling ch'i cleverly, one could achieve results pretty similar to wielding certain Elemental types of Aeterna. Fire, for instance – all one had to do was to raise the temperature of the surroundings by circulating ch'i. As for Wind, all a martial artist had to do was punch out hard and fast. Job done.

As for the red-colored Lightning, that was akin to static electricity. Meaning, it needed a bit of friction. And one could get lots of friction by rubbing something non-stop. The oscillating fist could rub non-stop, if the Old Man wanted to. That way, he could “summon” Lightning as much as he needed.

The only trouble with this method was the burden placed on his body. He'd survive in the end, but now that the local Invokers had gotten involved, and they were clearly hostile, trying to get away in the aftermath should be tough if he was grievously injured.

But the Old Man never suffered a bout of indecisiveness. If anything, one could accuse him of being too decisive. He had already made up his mind on his next course of action.

So, under the hail of spells causing a bit of dust cover, he dashed forward. His destination? Right in the front of the creature's face. He just loved seeing the look of bemusement on that thing's face turn to pain and panic. It was very satisfying, seeing that.

As he neared, the Old Man hid his left fist behind his back. It was to hide the fact that his fist had begun to emit reddish sparks. He cracked his knuckles a few times as he swiftly made his way closer to the creature, weaving and dodging past the Invocations spells, fully knowing that this attack better land, or else. After all, he was already feeling the pain from trying to oscillate his ch'i.

The creature belatedly noticed the Old Man approaching, and smirked coldly. It was glad that the foolish human was saving the trouble of closing the distance by himself. Now, all the creature had to do was release all that absorbed Aeterna and form another mighty concentrated energy blast like the last time. And it would be a close-range blast as well, ensuring that the Old Man wouldn't be able to deflect it.

At the half way mark between the two of them, a seriously high-level Invocation spell landed with a boom. A flame-based spell that took on the shape of a magnificent mounted knight wielding a huge lance, it roared like a beast and gallantly pounced at the Old Man's direction.

He sighed grimly and canceled the Lightning-clad oscillation fist. He could not afford to have it accidentally exposed because of the interference from this spell.

The flame knight rushed in, thrusting the lance with an incredible outburst of strength. The air around the illusory weapon boiled and hissed as the tip of the lance split into dozens of smaller lances, all of them trying to pierce the Old Man.

However, The Old Man utilized his forward momentum and slid underneath the thrusts gracefully, and tilted his body at correct times to dodge every single one of the flame lances. He did all this while keeping one eye on the violet creature. And once past the obstruction of flames, he rose up with nary a loss of speed and continued to run toward the creature.

The flame knight turned around and gave chase, although the Old Man was much faster and thus it was left far behind.

All of this happened less than a person blinking for a couple of times. Normal people couldn't even follow the action as it was happening too fast for their untrained eyes.

In another breath or two, the Old Man was within the striking distance. So, he fired up the oscillation fist again, but then, he saw the violet-colored ball of energy rapidly forming right in front of the creature's mouth. Naturally, he frowned.

Because of the time constraints, the ball itself was small. But as a trade off, it shot out faster than a .45 Magnum round. Compared to the previous energy attack, this one was much, much faster.

The Old Man hastily dodged it and the energy ball narrowly flew past his right ear, slicing it and letting a stream of blood to gracefully dance in the air.

Barely dodging the attack crumbled his posture. He had to balance himself on the ground with the fist behind his back and that greatly weakened the reddish lightning as he made contact with the ground.

It was too late to cancel his movement now – because he had already linked his dodging and counterattacking instinctively. The oscillating fist, clad in the weakened, reddish electricity, slammed into the side of the creature just as the energy ball collided with the flame knight that was chasing down the Old Man. The humongous and thunderously loud explosion that came from that impact masked the howl of pure agony coming out of the creature's mouth.

The fist worked wonders but as expected, at a great cost.

When the attack connected, the Old Man felt his blood flow reverse from the backlash of the oscillating fist. He felt his arm wither as the violent ch'i ran amok inside his meridians. The result was that he spat out a mouthful of foul-smelling black blood, some of it landing on the creature's violet skin.

The moment the blood splashed on the creature's goo-like surface, it began to melt with a loud hiss. This compounded the amount of pain the creature felt by a hundred fold. This foul-smelling black blood was actually burning away its life essence, which was granted by the supreme being, its master.

Seeing the horrific scene of its flesh melting off its body, it felt genuine fear for its very existence for the first time in is brief existence.

To make the matters worse, the melting of its flesh didn't stop at the areas splashed by the blood. Oh no.

The violet colored flesh continuously melted away, some turning into a fine mist, dissipating away while the others pooled below into an ever-increasing puddle of gooey mess.

The Old Man found this new development rather bemusing. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events. Who knew his illness was this effective in killing the creature? If he had known, then he'd have spat out lots more of his tainted blood well before getting tangled up with this thing.

Besides the blood melting it, his oscillating fist also showed its effectiveness. The area he had struck had been shattered, but the scattered bits of the body didn't coalesce back into one piece like before. Instead, each part of the violet flesh was sealed by the cracking red electricity and began to literally burn away.

Clearly panicking now. The creature willed its flesh to regrow, to reform, to reattach. None of those happened.

If anything, its desperate actions caused faster depletion of its reserve life force, ironically enough. Frantically, it swung the sword haphazardly, trying to slash at the Old Man and the barrage of spells coming towards it.

The Old Man nimbly stepped back, wiping the blood off his lips in bitter satisfaction. His left arm was ruined, but he would resuscitate it with meditation and medicines later on. He was just glad the injury was not as serious as he feared.

As for the creature, it howled in madness, trying desperately to hold on. The melting intensified, so was the burning away of the shattered bits of flesh. The air was filled with the smell of unchecked fire, with the rancid odor of rotted flesh burning away. It was not very pleasant at all, the Old Man mused quietly to himself.

The Invocation spells ceased raining down as the creature melted and burned into a puddle of violet goo. The rancid odor intensified greatly, making the Old Man to hastily cover his nose.

Hmph, so it is over....

The Old Man sighed, feeling slightly relieved. If Kain was here, he'd retort that a flag was raised with that line of thinking, although the Old Man wouldn't have the foggiest idea what the boy was on about.

And sure enough, at the tail end of the long, tired sigh, the Old Man sensed a movement within the violet goo.

A small bit, no bigger than a thumbnail, flew out of the puddle faster than a beam of light. Outwardly, it was not affected by the black blood's melting nor was it burned by the red electricity.

The Old Man felt a sliver of the creature's life force still resonating in that small lump of flesh.

Cursing inwardly at his carelessness, the Old Man chased after it, disregarding his internal injuries.

The Invokers on the ground watched dumbfoundedly as they witnessed a human flying in the air. A squadron of Griffon Riders, mobilized to attack the enemies destroying the city, watched with their jaws slack at the sight of a tiny violet flesh shooting past them all, and an old man flying after it.

And give chase he did, even as more of the black blood oozed out of his lips. He had to finish the damn thing now, or else the creature for a certainty would return later. Even though there was a slim chance that things could be fine if he let it go, in his guts he just knew that a loose end like this was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. He had to snip the fuse now.

He wasn't sure how long they had flown, but he certainly recognized the direction they were flying in – toward the Tetamus mountain range. His face darkened considerably at this.

However, his face darkened even more, when he saw a cloud of shadows rapidly approaching them from up ahead. The clouds appeared so fast and so suddenly, the Old Man was nearly caught off guard. He felt an alarm of deadly crisis go off inside his head like a mad siren. He involuntarily stopped his pursuit and hovered in mid-air, watching.

And as he watched, he felt a sense of horror creep in. He felt all of his being, both his instincts and his mind, telling him to hide. So, he backed away and flew down to the ground in haste, then he hid in the undergrowth, lulling his presence almost to nothingness.

Because, right at that moment in the air above, a whole group of shrieking wraiths had pounced on the violet flesh, competing against one another and voraciously consuming it. And as they did so, their semi-transparent bodies became less illusory. Not only that, as soon as the violet flesh was gone, the wraiths began devouring each other.

As their numbers decreased, the black aura of death increased around the area, suffocating and suppressing all there was. Even the normally-pleasant sunlight was twisted and darkened under the oppressiveness of this aura.

After a few minutes of frenzied devouring, only a single creature remained. It was black, round, and as big as a VW Golf. It trembled weakly, before setting off on a direction, flying away.

The Old Man watched, noting that the new monster was no longer headed towards the Tetamus. Plus, he could no longer sense the violet creature's life force anymore. It was now dead for sure, replaced by a who-knows-what. He had no idea what this situation meant, but as far as he could tell, this monster seemed to lack.... any tangible intelligence. It looked like it operated purely on instincts alone.

Oh well, if it's not going to threaten the kid, then whatever. I'm sure the Invokers of this world will take care of that. It's not as strong as that violet creature anyways.

Sighing with a relief, the Old Man leaned against a sturdy-looking tree, suddenly feeling too tired to stand straight. His body ached everywhere, the badly withered left arm being the worst culprit.

His perceptions also told him this area was no good. Not that he'd be in any particular mortal danger, no, but of being constantly annoyed by the passing small fries. Now that would get tiresome real fast.

I better find a place to meditate and recover, thought the Old Man. He couldn't move too far in his current condition. He had to find a cover somewhere nearby.

As he steadied his rough breathing, he felt a small prickle in his consciousness. Someone was trying to contact him telepathically over a great distance.

Only a handful of beings possessed this ability. And most of them were his allies. Of course, most of those allies were dead now due to old age but never mind that. If someone was trying to contact him this way, then the number of possibilities were quite limited. Counted on one hand, as a matter of fact.

And when the Old Man allowed the communication to come through, he couldn't help but break out in welcoming smile as the gruff and nostalgic voice of his friend flooded in.

~

In the meantime, Kain was having a nervous breakdown. Well, almost.

Partly because the bronze giants were staring daggers at him while he was plopped down on the ground from the exhaustion taking its toll on the small body of his.

It was the case of “One Thing After Another.” At first, it was the sinister golden knight trying to suck him dry. And now, it was the bronze statues eyeballing him for god knows why.

Only if he could read the facial expressions of the statues. The remaining ones all carried the same type of scary, angry scowl. The kind of grimacing face he saw once in a TV documentary about a famous Japanese Buddhist monastery. More specifically, on the faces of the aged wooden carvings of spiritual guardians allegedly protecting the said monastery.

At the time, Kain thought they looked scary enough to chase away small children, thus depriving the institution of much-needed donations from the parishioners.

No wait, can I even call the believers of Buddhism parishioners? Sounds not quite right, somehow. No, wait another damn second here. That's not really important now, is it?!

Kain shook the irrelevant thoughts out of his head and took a deep breath. That calmed him down slightly.

Right. Let's see. These statues are not moving to kill me.... yet. Does that mean I'm not considered a threat to them? I did kill that... uh, knight after all. Could it be.... are they considering me as an ally?

Kain slowly stood up, his legs still shaking. His gaze never left the group of the giant statues, watching closely for any hint of movement. If it seemed threatening, then he'd hightail it outta here, pronto. The door was now open, so all he had to was perform the body enhancement spell on his legs and run.

Oh, that's right, Emma's there, blocking the dang doorway....

Kain belatedly remembered that the green haired Elf was standing on the frame of the mangled doorway, tensely surveying the totally messed up mural chamber with suspicious eyes. She had nocked another arrow and was ready to let it loose at any given moment, but the thing was, she was blocking the only exit, with not a single inclination to move out of the way.

Oh, for chrissake, move your bum, will you?

Kain shouted inwardly at the idiotic girl. Of course, she had no way of understanding his sentiments. After all, she was standing there, fearing that any sudden movements from her part might set off these bronze giants in a bad way. She was here to protect the little master, not to get him very much killed by the statues with scary faces.

After standing up straight, Kain sensed that all of the accumulated ch'i in his body was exhausted. As for his Aeterna Pool, less than 10% remained. A lot of it got sucked out by that golden knight, while more got drained out of him the moment that golden disc activated. Speaking of which....

Kain's eyes drifted to the floor between him and where the knight used to be. There the small golden disc laid innocently, as if to taunt all the witnesses present that its deadly, earth-shattering power was actually a product of their imaginations.

He stood there debating the merits of him trying to grab it. In order to do that, he would have to move a bit forward. That might make the bronze giants turn hostile. So, he had to decide and do it quickly. Was the golden disc that could suck out his Aeterna reserve to produce a massively cool energy sword worth taking the risk?

Of course, it was. Besides the cool factor, it saved his life. He was getting a bit attached to it. Also, it could become his lucky charm, the proverbial last line of defense against the overwhelming odds.

The distance between it and him was pretty close. If he took two steps forward and then reached down.... he'd be able to touch it.

Oh well, that's that, but what about the exit? Emma's still there, not moving. Is there a way to alert her to my plans?

His back was turned towards her. He thought about doing some type of baseball hand signs but the odds were, she might misunderstand and cause more problems instead. Still, he couldn't think of anything else to do.

So, he nonchalantly placed his right arm behind his back and began to frantically signal at Emma. Unfortunately, her eyes were fixated on the giant bronze statues and she managed to completely miss all the signs Kain made.

If this was a comedy, he'd turn his head and make a funny but urgent facial expression trying to get her attention. Too bad the situation didn't allow for that.

As the atmosphere became even worse, it was Emma who surprisingly broke the uneasy silence first.

“Little Master, are you unhurt? What are these things? I sense no life in them, but they are not like any other Golems I've ever seen.”

Her voice rang clearly around the chamber, echoing harshly against the background of distant humming noises and small hisses of gas expelling out of somewhere. Thankfully, the giant bronze statues did not react. If they did, Kain would've crapped in his pants.

But since they did not move, Kain felt that maybe it was okay to speak here. He still felt a bit hesitant but decided to take the chance.

“I'm more or less fine, although a little tired. As for these statues, I think they are meant to guard this chamber. And to kill that knight, or whatever it was.”

Emma nodded slowly after hearing that. “Then, perhaps these giants wouldn't see us as enemies?”

Kain's face became a bit apologetic as he explained what happened earlier on. “See, the thing is, when I was trying to open that door, I pressed some buttons that I shouldn't have and started this whole thing by accident. I think it was me who ended up, uh, reviving that knight dude.”

“So, does that mean they see you as a bad guy, then?” Emma's face hardened a bit as she gripped the bow tighter, ready to take aim at the closest bronze giant.

“I honestly don't know. I don't know what these fellas are waiting for. If they are going to do something, I'd rather they do it sooner rather than later.” Kain sighed weakly, his shoulders slumping for a second, before recovering. “Oh yeah. Hey Emma, could you just move out of the way? When the stuff hits the fan, I'd like to make a run for it, but you're blocking the exit, you know.”

Emma's response exceeded his expectation, however. She simply replied, “Wait, Little Master. I think.... you should reconsider. Firstly, you should pick up that golden medallion off the ground.”

“Uhm... why?”

“Just a hunch. Try it.”

Kain wanted to scratch the back of his head in utter confusion, not to mention retort out what the hell, a hunch? You want me to die?!

But like an adult – inwardly – that he was, Kain held back his tongue and glanced at the bronze statues.

Come to think of it, when I used Aeterna vision on these guys, I picked up on some weird flow from them. I felt the same from the disc when it activated in my palm. Are they all related? Logically speaking, they are found in the same place so the chances of them created for the same purpose is pretty good. But how does that help me?

Kain hesitated for a bit. He tried to look at the disc on the floor, but it showed no reaction from his Aeterna vision. Right now it looked just like an ordinary piece of metal.

And when he looked at the bronze giants, the flow of Aeterna around them had stabilized to a point where they might as well be real statues, not a group of fully articulated death machines. Not a sign of movements from them whatsoever. The whole thing was quickly turning rather bizarre, to a Monty Python level of absurdity.

As a test, Kain coughed lightly as he took a step forward. At the same time, he cast the body enhancement spell on his legs, ready to run at a moment's notice.

Again, no movements from the other side.

Seeing this, Kain felt a bit more confident. He took one more step to make sure, and the statues remained dead still. This emboldened the boy even further, just enough to take another step closer to the fallen disc.

This was working out pretty well. After all, he did want to take the golden disc with him anyways. The only worry he had was of Emma blocking the exit inadvertently when he was making the getaway. But now, with the statues not looking to attack him, there was no need to run anymore.

To conserve the remaining Aeterna reserve, Kain canceled the body enhancement spell and bent down to pick up the disc off the floor. Even then, no movements. Not even a squeak.

It was completely anti-climatic as it could possibly get. To think he was totally psyched for this, it was one big let down. But he wasn't going to complain about this turn of the events, which was in effect better and safer for him anyway.

Kain carefully pocketed the disc and glanced at the statues. Their scary faces remained, but for some reason, they didn't seem so threatening now. If anything, they seemed to make those pained faces of people suffering from constipation instead.

He slowly stepped back until he reached where Emma was standing. She too began to back away cautiously. The two of them were resolved to run away as soon as their feet touched the ground outside the mural chamber.

Suddenly, the bronze giants began to move noisily. Rather than give pursuit, they returned to their original positions, surrounding the spot where the sarcophagus used to lay, and like robots switching off, became inactive again, lights going out from their eyes. Kain even heard the whirring noises winding down to a stop.

Seeing this, he bitterly chuckled. If he knew, then he'd have left already....

Emma shook her head wryly too, thinking that they were worried for nothing. She then turned to face the boy and began to shoot him with questions after questions. Of course, Kain suggested that they should get out of here first before he satisfies her curiosity.

“Hey, look. I can see that you're dying to know but shall we get out of here first? For one, I'm really tired right now. And I'm not 100% sure but I think it's getting pretty late already.”

Emma begrudgingly agreed, although she was complaining a lot.

As they approached the exit of the large chamber, the hologram of the Asian woman came back on with a pop. She still had that robotic yet polite smile as she began yapping without any prompts from either of Emma or Kain.

“The item batch no. DPX-154.73 Version 8.01 in your possession is not permitted to leave the research areas due to the concerns regarding the safety of its operations. Please refrain from exiting the premises until the security personnels arrive.”

Kain raised an eyebrow. Even though the place was clearly wrecked, with barely anything functioning properly, somehow something here scanned him and figured that he was about to abscond with one of its prized tools.

Of course, he was on high alert thanks to the words “security personnels,” although he was quite sure that was, spelling-wise, incorrect. He was scared of confronting another bunch of death-dealing machines like the bronze giants. This time, he got a weird feeling that robots with outer shells resembling the Daleks from a certain British TV show might pop out of the corner next.

Basically, he was readying himself for just about anything, really.

“Eh? I can't leave with this? Really?”

Emma tilted her head in dejection as she held the bow in her hands. There were tears in her eyes now as she hugged the weapon tightly. It was rather plainly obvious that she rather liked the bow's performance very much.

Kain glanced at her and at the bow, and couldn't help but retort in his mind. Nope, I don't think the hologram AI is unhappy with you because of some plasticky bow.

After lightly shaking his head, he fished out the small golden disc out of his pocket and held it up under the glare of the overhead light. It sure looked totally innocuous.

A flicker of determination flashed past in his eyes. There was no way he'd give this thing up. It was a phenomenal treasure, one that could save his life in times of emergency, so no way in hell he'd give it up.

The hologram's image wavered and broke up. After a second or two, it blinked into life again, still carrying that robotic smile.

“Thank you for your cooperation. Please have a nice day.”

Both Emma and Kain stood there, at first feeling surprised, and then immediately feeling relieved afterwards. Soon, even that was replaced with bemusement.

“But of course. It's been too long. No way anyone in this building is still alive after all these years to stop us from plundering her secrets,” chuckled Kain softly. He then turned around to Emma and spoke. “Let's just get outta here. We can come back later to explore more, right?”
​

Well, here you go. I was going to post this chapter yesterday, but was suffering from flu for a few days and couldn't get much writing done. Better late than never, though. Right? Right? Anyone?​

 

Spoiler: Chapter 39

39​

“So.... it was true,” muttered Lizbeth in shock as she sat down on the comfy couch, her hand absent-mindedly rubbing her gently-swollen belly. The faces of friends and acquaintances flashed past in her mind – the memories of people she cherished rather deeply.

The news of the destruction of Lafayette was not new to her. Not really. Earlier in the day, when she went to the Andrea L. Pressario School to fetch the children home, one of the noble ladies waiting for her son informed her in a hushed tone, as if to divulge a grave secret between the two intimate friends. Lizbeth's and her daughter's reputations meant people were actively trying to get close to them. So on a daily basis, Lizbeth encountered such folks frequently. So much so, she had trouble remembering them all sometimes.

It's just that, at the time Lizbeth thought it was nothing more than an idle gossip, a flight of fancy between the bored housewives lacking excitement in their lives. But now that her own teacher, Michelle, confirmed it, there was no doubt anymore.

Currently, they were in the living room of Michelle's residence, some time after dinner. Most of the maidservants had gone home with the exception of those lived here. Kaleena and Katrina were studying in their shared room, while the adults were enjoying a cup of finely cultured tea. And yes, Rosy was considered an adult too, as she there quietly sipping her share, her whiskers occasionally twitching.

Although, now with this rather upsetting and a sudden news, it was pretty hard for everyone present to enjoy the bitter yet relaxing taste any longer.

Lizbeth patted her belly, a habit that became the norm before she had noticed, and steadied herself. Then, turning to face her teacher, she asked for more information.

“The collated eyewitness testaments confirms that it was a fierce clash between two Divinity-class beings over the skies of the city. The report I received indicates that the collateral damage is enough to almost completely bankrupt the House of Lafayette. Over two-fifths of the city is now in complete ruins,” said Michelle with a long sigh.

Lizbeth's eyes twitched at the words “two Divinity-class beings.” The mere mention of these mythical creatures in serious conversations would raise quite the amount of ire and ridicule.

That was actually understandable – in the recorded history of the entire known world, the sightings of a Divinity-class being was rarer than rare, to a point where people thought that it was all made up bollocks to scare small children at bedtime. Or not.

Only those who fought and studied Fiends for a living – like Invokers – had some generalized idea of what a Divinity-class being was like. The most popular creature that fit this description was an Elder Dragon, an existence that had evolved past being a mere dragon.

There were also demi-gods as well as The Remnants of the gods but these two were even rarer than an Elder Dragon. Although, rumors stated that there was a land which was an exclusive domain of all dragons, where all sorts of those scaly, gigantic kings of the beasts roamed without a care. It was just a rumor, though. since no one had yet to find it.

Whatever the case may be, a Divinity ranked being was powerful enough to level mountains, scorch the lands and annihilate armies of a million. Good thing that they were such a rare existence. Otherwise, this world would've seen destruction on the unimaginable scale more often than most people would care for.

But now, two Divinity-class beings were seen fighting each other. The whole spectacle was witnessed by the certified Invokers at the scene. It was no longer at the scale of a fanciful boast from a drunkard trying to impress his buddies down at the local pub.

Michelle lightly dusted herself off and stretched her arms, yawning out loudly in the process. “Well, I'll get to see it with my own eyes soon enough. I've been asked to head over there on the very first available seat on a Sky Ark tomorrow.”

“Teacher? You are going over there?!” Lizbeth's eyes lit up after hearing the unexpected announcement. “Did the SOIR branch in Lafayette fall victim to the destruction as well?”

“No, that's not it,” shaking her head, Michelle scratched the side of her face, her expression slightly uneasy. “On the aftermath of the battlefield, the resident Invokers recovered several small but significant biological samples left behind by both Divinity-class beings. They, the upper brass of SOIR, wishes me to take a look, maybe try analyzing what they've got on their hands.”

“That is.... an incredibly good fortune, teacher,” said Lizbeth, her eyes now as wide and bright as the pair of full moons in the darkened night sky outside. She couldn't help but feel very proud of Michelle, whom she thought of as a close family member. Finding the intact samples was an amazing feat without a doubt, but to possess the level of recognition and respect from her peers to be entrusted with the analysis of something so important – now that was irreplaceable prestige. A matter to be truly proud of.

But Michelle's facial expression was less than that of a happiness. When Lizbeth looked at her confused, with another sigh Michelle began explaining her situation.

“I get that understanding the compositions of the samples precedes all else. I really do. But I have my own things to do and promises still left to fulfill. I... I'm not sure whether I should go or not.”

She held the head and massaged her temples. Lines of weariness dyed her face in a shade of pale.

Over the last few months, she had been trying to work out just who was responsible for the deaths of innocent citizens via malicious, so-called medicines. She could've have left everything to the investigative team led by the decrepit Grand Elder Grisham but, she felt compelled to unravel the mystery behind this case. After all, it involved her profession, the honor of all Invokers around the world. Not to mention, she had to bear the witness to it all, the grief of fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters.

If a no good son of a mud slinging Goblin dared to tarnish that most exalted of callings, being an Invoker, then she'd flail him, or her for that matter, alive until there was not a drop of blood left.

Lizbeth too would react poorly against anyone looking to harm the Invokers and all the hard work they do as well, but perhaps not as violently as her teacher might.

“How far did your own investigation progress? Last time, you had identified over two-thirds of the ingredients used in the toxins. I thought you were getting quite close to identifying the suspects.”

Lizbeth recalled the contents of the last conversation she had with Michelle regarding the disturbance. At the time, Grisham did allow her teacher to take a closer look at the victims' remains but after she began identifying the ingredients, for some reason Michelle was asked to kindly leave the investigating process to the pros.

It was all rather very abrupt, to say the least.

That didn't stop Michelle from poking her nose in, though. If anything, people telling her to drop it spurred her on even more. Utilizing her long-established contacts and favors, she went snooping around.

Specifically, who in the corridors of SOIR might have access to certain types of materials required to concoct the toxins.

Of course, Michelle was no blithering idiot, going around asking anyone she met willy-nilly. Oh no. Rather than that, she did not ask direct questions that could raise suspicions. What she went for was information, or to gain access to the said information. In other words, access to the records.

SOIR kept a sensibly organized, properly archived records of every research being done by the numerous Invokers residing within its walls. After all, a great deal of money was required to perform any types of research, and keeping tabs on the spending activities of an Invoker was, at the end of the day, a prudent thing to do.

Indeed, there were hundreds of these researches going on around the entirety of the Empire at any given moment. As a result, the sheer quantity of the records kept was ridiculous. Not possible for a single person to sift through, no matter how much time he or she had.

But for Michelle, the scope of her search was far narrower to begin with. She knew the Invoker in question had to be an alchemist. She knew the person, or persons, had handled rare medicinal plants that even she struggled to recognize at a single glance. And some of those plants had to be procured via the services of Adventurers. In order to hire external help, that had to go through a certain approval procedure if it involved something harmful or/and dangerous.

Those who fell under these criteria weren't too many to begin with – although, having said that, the number still exceeded three figures. So for the past few weeks, Michelle had been carefully going through the records, hidden from the eyes of the investigation team, trying to narrow the suspects even further.

As for Grisham and his posse, they were doing their own thing. Michelle paid a closer attention earlier on in the investigation but as there was a constraint with time, she lost track. Now, she had no idea how far they had come. Or how stuck they were.

Anyways, the not-so-shortlist of names she compiled contained some bigwigs of SOIR's organizations. Serious big hitters, who had nothing to gain from the fall of the Society, both politically and financially. Still, humans' hearts marched to their own strange drum beats, so Michelle never discounted anyone off her list. Not yet.

There was also the matter of motive that needed figuring out as well, but for now, she'd identify the culprit or culprits first, and then move on to solving that topic afterwards.

Michelle nodded and responded sourly at Lizbeth's query. “Mmm. It was going rather well. There were a few likely suspects I was interested in, and fit the profile I've constructed but with this request from up above, looks like I have to hold it for a while.”

She then crossed her arms and chewed on her lower lip for a second or two, deliberating. Lizbeth saw this and carefully spoke to her teacher.

“Teacher, I know that this investigation is important, but the samples of the two Divinity-class beings are just as important as well, if more so. Why don't you go on ahead and oversee the process? Or.... couldn't they transport the samples over here via a Sky Ark? Surely, the facilities here in the Academy would far exceed those in Lafayette.”

“I asked the very same thing,” replied Michelle. “The Invokers on site couldn't tell whether it's alright to move the samples long distance. They want me down there to ascertain that, too. If it's safe to transport, I accompany it back here. If not, then I need to buckle down over there.”

Two stayed silent for a period of time before Michelle finally sighed and stood up. “Oh, well. Guess I.... sigh. I will go and pack up. Should I get a big luggage or a small one?”

“Well, you could use a medium one,” joked Lizbeth, her voice gentle.

Chuckling, Michelle stretched her arms and yawned loudly again. After her opened mouth closed, she waved her hand as she began walking out of the living room. “Yeah, well. I'm going to turn in for the night. Get a good sleep yourself, Lizzie. Right now you have another life to look after. Fatigue is the last thing anyone needs, especially in your condition.”

Lizbeth smiled and rested her hands over the belly. “Do not worry, teacher. The pregnancy is progressing well. I should know. As my husband might say, this isn't my first 'Sacred Acre exploration,' you know.”

Mentioning Damien briefly stiffened her expression. But it returned soon after that.

Lizbeth had been in touch with him recently. She was adamant that he needed to see to his family first. Not the ones up North, but the ones right here, but he said there were some men that needed his careful attention. He said that things were going well and could not vacate his position just yet.

She wasn't happy about this, but shouting at him over a borrowed communication crystal linkage was a waste of energy so she simply had reminded him of his priorities. Vengeance was important, but protecting the loved ones was much more so.

“If I leave and stay there for a while, watching over the kids might get tougher,” said Michelle as she leaned against the living room door frame. “Perhaps, I could call for a favor? There's someone who'd be perfect for the job.”

Lizbeth nodded. “If it's someone you trust, it should be fine, teacher. Good night.”

“You too.”

After Michelle left, the pair of Rosy and Lizbeth sat there, conversing about this and that. Nothing in particular was important enough to discuss in detail – the happenings around the neighborhood, in the school, around the house, in the local markets. It was all quite mundane and comfortable.

Lizbeth hoped that it'd remain that way as long as humanly possible.

~​

In the following morning, Lizbeth and Michelle learned that the number of commercially available flight to Lafayette became extremely limited. Besides the area being declared a disaster area, the Emperor also saw fit to declare a temporary state of emergency on the province of Thousand Heavenly Mountains, where the city was located at. Quite a fitting name for a land filled with many majestic mountain ranges, including the likes of Tetamus as well as many others similar in size.

Not many in the capital knew about the Emperor's orders initially, but what with the travel restrictions put in place, it was only a matter of time before rumors spread around like a wildfire.

For now, there were no flights available for those not approved by the army bureaucrats. No exceptions even for a highly-respected member of SOIR. But to a person like Michelle, such a thing was not an obstacle too difficult to overcome.

Since the Imperial Military was sending out Sky Arks filled to the brim with emergency rations and supplies – appropriated with utmost haste from the aviation company in charge – all she had to do was speak to her old acquaintance within it. This person also happened to be that “someone” Michelle had mentioned the night before.

“How do you do, Lady Lizbeth? It's my pleasure and honor to meet you like this. I am Count Martinus Beaufoy Trentham the Fourth. Please, allow me to say that I've been looking forward to this day for a very long time.”

A devastatingly handsome young man bowed respectfully at Lizbeth. He exuded a confident aura of an ages-old aristocrat, with a cultured facial hair, swept back light brown hair, gentle and warm blue eyes and a dashing perma-smile seemingly forever etched on his face.

Lizbeth came to the grand estate of the House of Trentham, located Northward of the Capital, accompanied by Rosy and her teacher, Michelle. This place wasn't the ancestral home of the Count's family, but merely a small residence for him to rest and stay while conducting business in the city. Their territory was reasonably close, though.

Count Martinus slowly but suavely took Lizbeth's hand and kissed the back. At this gesture, she couldn't help but look at her teacher with weird eyes, wanting to question her who is this man?! Where have you been hiding him, teacher Michelle??

Obviously, Lizbeth didn't want to jump to hasty conclusions, but the reverence in the eyes of this handsome young man was rather too bright to not notice. And that shine was directed at much older Michelle and herself.

Although it'd be rude to say so, the Count was probably barely old enough to grow a mustache naturally, even if he was giving it a good go of it.

As for Michelle, she was clearing her throat with a light cough, slightly embarrassed. Kissing the hand of a lady was not a violation of common etiquette, but depending on the occasion it was indeed seen as a bit excessive. Right now was just such an occasion.

Still, the young Count's eyes shone brilliantly and earnestly. Lizbeth couldn't really bring herself to correct him and cause embarrassment like that. Also, there was his station to consider – as a Count, he was way above her proverbial pay-grade.

Cordially, Lizbeth returned the greeting with a smile and a smart curtsy. “Thank you for your generous words, my lord.”

Seeing her smile, Martinus beamed, his face lighting up even more. He proceeded to squeeze Lizbeth's hand, not out of malice or any other unsavory emotions, but with a heart full of admiration and enthusiasm.

“No, not at all, Lady Lizbeth. This is truly my great happiness to receive honored guests such as yourself. Your past exploits as a Gold-ranked Adventurer are legendary. I've heard and studied a lot of it. That is how I was able to make an acquaintance with Master Banovsky. I've been requesting Master for an audience with you and Baron Lomax for ages but only today do I get to speak to you like this.”

Lizbeth's weird expression became deeper. “I beg your pardon, but may I hear of exactly what exploits?”

Martinus's face was full of excitement as he began recounting all the amazing adventures she and Damien allegedly enjoyed in the past.

“The very first tale I've heard was of the battle involving hundreds of Adventurers of various ranks and that of Fiends numbering the thousands. The battle lasted for the duration of one whole week before the Imperial regiments came in as the reinforcement, finally routing the enemy's position comprehensibly. In this fierce battle, you have saved the lives of over half the combatants with your stunning healer's touch!!”

Lizbeth tilted her head, confused. It took a moment or two before she placed this tall tale to an actual event in the past. There indeed was a skirmish between a band of Adventurers and a small group of lost Goblins. Normally, such an encounter wouldn't have been a problem as the number of Adventurers at the time easily exceeded that of Fiends but the funny thing was, there was a stomach bug going around at the time and more than a few fell victim to it. The actual villain of the story was a doe that the Adventurers had successfully hunted the night before, cooked on a middling fire and consumed in great joy.

She was still an apprentice in need of an employment at the time, and only tagged along because Michelle said the experience would do a world of good for her. Nothing so grand about thousands of Fiends and Imperial reinforcements routing the positions and whatnots. What was plentiful, though, was the pained and no doubt embarrassed cries of grown-up adults seeking some privacy to relieve their bowels.

Lizbeth winced a little after recalling that rather traumatic event.

Martinus didn't stop at that one. “And then there was the heroic tale of conquering the fatal Sacred Acre in order to save your beloved. My personal favorite, though, is the one where you stood up against the corrupt local governor and brought justice to an impoverished community!!”

On and on, young Count Martinus Beaufoy Trentham continued with the descriptions of Lizbeth's past exploits that not even herself knew about.

The end result was that her face began to cramp up uncomfortably. More memories flooded in, clearing the cobwebs from her mind and the events described in his tall tales coming back one by one. None of them was as grand and thrilling as Martinus was making them out to be.

Lizbeth took a long, hard look at Michelle, silently demanding an explanation. This was the first time she heard of such a preposterous nonsense regarding her life. Not even a drunk, third-rate bard couldn't have dreamed up such impossible stories like the ones this earnest young man was believing in.

Michelle gave her a deep shrug of her shoulders and shook her head. Her eyes were saying, Oh, hey. Just roll with it. Too late fix all the misunderstandings now, Lizzie.

Gritting her teeth, Lizbeth did her best to fix a pleasant smile and calmly replied. Well, at least she tried to, anyway. “My lord, most of those stories have been greatly embellished. Please do not pay much mind to them.”

Laughing heartily, which didn't fit his young and handsome face, Martinus shook his head. “Not at all. I do understand that the reality is somewhat more mundane than it is. But having witnessed your conviction and strength first-hand, I believe that those tales contain a large slice of truth in them. The crux of the matter is that you've performed many meritorious services to the Empire and to humanity in general, eschewing your humble beginnings and therefore becoming an inspiration to the younger generations.”

Lizbeth was surprised, but soon after, felt rather relieved to hear that the young man was not a blinded idealist, easily swayed by simple, enticing tales whispered by a passing stranger. Which was good, if she were to ask for his help in protecting her children during their stay here in the Capital.

“Master Banovsky, as requested, I've arranged a safe passage for you on the Lafayette-bound Sky Ark. The departure is scheduled for tomorrow morning. Please prepare accordingly as well. As for you, Lady Lizbeth, I shall dispatch a suitable batch of men to discreetly monitor your surroundings. Hopefully, that satisfies your current needs.”

Martinus smiled warmly. But there was a hint of anger flickering past his eyes as he spoke the next line. “How dare they target your children like that in the open? When my men apprehend them, I shall make sure they pay dearly. I swear it.”

Lizbeth nodded softly. She could tell that he was serious about this commitment, which was another good news. And judging by the estate belonging to his family, she figured that the influence wielded by Martinus was not inconsiderable as well. The protection offered by him would be better than good.

After exchanging more pleasantries, a pair of well-built men entered the audience chamber they were conversing in and informed that the batch of men was ready to accompany Lizbeth, Rosy and Michelle back to the trio's residence. With that settled, they parted ways there.

On the way back, Lizbeth inquired as to why they haven't sought out the aid of the young Count until now.

“Because, quite frankly, I didn't want to owe that guy,” sighed Michelle.

“What do you mean? I thought he owed you a favor instead. Was it not?”

“No, no, no. Not at all like that,” hurriedly, Michelle denied it. She then grumbled lowly to herself and shook her head. “Please, Lizzie. Don't ask anymore. It's already embarrassing as it is. Please drop it. For my sake.”

For some reason, Michelle's face was dyed in the shade of crimson. Seeing this expression, Lizbeth felt incredulous. Blinking for a few times, she made sure she wasn't hallucinating things out of the thin air.

But no – the slightly bashful expression remained on her teacher's face. Finally, it was Lizbeth's turn to carry a complex expression on her own. Rosy looked at the two women, herself confused at the suddenness of this awkward atmosphere.

Rosy was this close to saying something, but then she saw Lizbeth giving her a glance, her eyes urging the young Pantherikin girl from uttering out things aloud that could create an even more uncomfortable situation.

So that was that.

~​

The following morning, Lizbeth saw to her kids safely entering the school. Then, she accompanied Michelle to the Sky Ark station to see her off.

Michelle was excited. It was clearly showing on her face. Only a couple of days ago she was reluctant to take the trip but now, she was raring to go.

Lizbeth thought that was just like her teacher in the old days. Never dwelling too long on the past indecisions, always looking forward to the next adventure or whatever journey awaiting for her.

“Take care of yourself when you get there,” cautioned Lizbeth gently as she nodded at her teacher.

“Mmm. I shall. No, hang on, why do you sound like my mother all of a sudden?!” Chuckling, Michelle shook her head. “Am I that unreliable in your eyes? Oh, Lizzie. Your words of concern are like the edges of a sharp knife. Anyways, I should say the same to you as well. Even with Count Trentham's aid, keep your wits about you, alright?”

And with that, Michelle, carrying her medium-sized bag of holding, entered beyond the entrance of the station, disappearing among the throngs of military hardmen busily rushing over here and there.

With Rosy's urging, the two returned to the carriage with its canvas roof tilted back to let in the Autumn sunlight, and headed back home.

The ride was as uneventful as it got. Lizbeth glanced at the driver of the carriage, an agent dispatched by the Count, and tried to study him. The man was definitely a soldier. Maybe even a mercenary. Well-muscled, with an air of sharpness about him. A pair of calloused and worn hands indicated that he saw enough action in his lifetime. While driving the carriage nonchalantly, he was remaining wary of the surroundings, his eyes always flitting and searching, scanning, observing.

Seeing a man like this next to her, she did feel a bit more relaxed than before. Being so high-strung almost all of the time was certainly not good for the baby developing inside of her. With several layers of extra protection, now there was some breathing room for her.

Damien did say the men involved in Kain's demise was a well-connected bunch, but she was pretty sure of their reluctance to tangle with a Count's men so openly and in the process buy the enmity of a powerful figure.

However, she couldn't really shake the feeling of this uneasiness. All this time, barring the incident at Kaleena's school, there hadn't been any attempt at her kids' lives. Not even once. It was as if the culprits had given up. Or were they biding their time? Lizbeth couldn't tell. That's what made her so uneasy about these peaceful days.

As for Damien....

She sighed deeply, thinking about her faraway husband with the misplaced priorities.

Did he lose himself chasing after the shadows? Is he feeling as anxious as I am? Just what is that man thinking now?

She slowly massaged her belly, looking distant. It'd be still a few months until the arrival of the joyous day. She'd have to make sure there were no dangers around by then.

By the time the two of them returned to the Banovsky residence within the Academy's grounds, there was an unexpected person waiting for them inside the house, sitting on the couch in the living room, sipping on the cup of tea as if he was the owner of the house, all comfy and the like.

Even before Lizbeth and Rosy could take action, the man apologized profusely and introduced himself.

“How do you do, Lady Lizbeth. It's our first meeting so you may not know of me. My name is Agent Marcus Dawson of the Special Bureau. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, even at this late stage. Do forgive me for this unexpected intrusion.”

~​

Meawhile, Damien was walking towards the workshop of Ged the blacksmith by the outskirts of the city of Marlborough. His reason was simple enough – to perform maintenance on the mechanical prosthetic arm. And also, to see if that guy was working hard now, trying to reform his formerly wicked ways.

As he walked up the muddied road, white breaths escaped from his mouth. The air was now quite cold, but not yet freezing. Still, there were hints of snow in the shapes of slits fleeting about in the air. He knew that at the rate of the temperatures dropping every passing day, this upcoming Winter would be a harsh one indeed.

Pulling the coat over his collar a bit closer, he hurried his steps.

As he neared the blacksmith's workshop, the metallic sound of a hammer hitting hard anvil surface echoed relentlessly. Damien knocked on the door and waited until a little girl of around ten opened it and looked at him inquisitively.

“Hey there, Gemma.” Damien greeted the girl and peeked around her. “Is your grandpa in? Can I speak to him?”

“He's in, but too busy. Busy fixing stuff Uncle broke while training.”

Damien chuckled. “Oh, is that right? Poor guy. Well, he did want me to track your uncle down and set him on a straight path, so all the hardship that follows are on him. Anyways, can you tell your grandpa Damien's here for the arm's maintenance?”

Gemma nodded then ducked behind the door. Shortly thereafter, Ged emerged, his face dirtied with soot and grime. He motioned Damien to enter after perusing him for a bit.

The former bandit-for-hire, now an apprentice working under Ged, looked up at Damien and shuddered with fear after recognizing him. Damien, for his part, waved his hand at the shivering man with a refreshing smile.

Damien then proceeded to remove the prosthetic arm. The process itself was quite quick – all he had to was disengage his own Aeterna flow from the mechanisms hidden within the arm.

Of course, as simple as it was, for someone who couldn't wield Aeterna at all, it took a lot of practice to get it going. Since it didn't take too much talent to control the minute amount of Aeterna, Damien got the hang of it soon enough and now, he could use this arm like as if he was born with it. His combat prowess had increased several folds, too. Always a good thing, that – any boost in strength was appreciated, no matter how small.

Ged took a close gander at the arm, its joints, the state of the armor plating, and the mechanisms inside. After a short while, he went to work, brushing the former bandit-for-hire away from the messy worktable.

And as he began hammering and tinkering, Damien tried to engage in a conversation with the former bandit as he had nothing much to do anyways.

“Hey, man. You doing alright?” asked Damien casually.

“Uhm, ye... yeah, it's kinda alright, I, uh, guess.”

The bandit stuttered, sweating heavily. He was backing away a little, but Damien reached out and grabbed him by his shoulder and pulled the terrified man closer.

“Hey, has your injuries heal yet? I mean, I did go a little overboard with you back then. I apologize for that. See the thing was.... I was actually in a bit of hurry at the time, you know. You understand, right? We cool?”

“Yea, yeah. We cool. No problems, man.”

Patting the back of the man Damien grinned. “Good to hear. Oh yeah, sorry but, I seemed to forget your name again. Uh, it was Jon, wasn't it?”

The former bandit nodded nervously. “Uhm, yeah, it's not important. Don't, ah, don't worry about it.”

The former bandit-for-hire Ged wanted Damien to locate was actually his wayward nephew. Not a real blood relation, no, but someone the old blacksmith happened to look after in this little hamlet.

After he grew some hair on his man-sack, Jon thought it was a swell idea to become a bandit and earn coin that way, figuring that blacksmith work was too harsh a life for someone as talented and dapper as he was.

Damien set him on a straight path, as he claimed before, so all was well now.

As Ged's hands busily moved about, suddenly Jon remembered something and spoke. “Ah, that's right. Uh, Sir Damien, there was a man who came here a few weeks ago looking for you.”

“Who was it? And why are telling me this now?!”

Damien loudly smacked Jon on his shoulder, making the former bandit grimace in pain.

“Well, that's because, uh.... because, sir, you haven't come here to sort out your equipment for a while.” Jon rubbed his sore shoulder and was about to speak testily, but after receiving Damien's narrow and piercing gaze, he changed his tone to a more respectful one right away.

“So, who was it? Why didn't you send me a message? Huh?”

“Uh... sir, I did go to see you at the inn you were staying in. But I was told you were away on a mission.”

Damien raised an eyebrow. If this timeline was right, this must've been right after he got the prosthetic arm and went off to check up on the borders up North. That round trip did take three weeks of harsh mountain trekking, so it was understandable he couldn't be reached.

“Alright, fine. You still haven't told me who it was.”

When Damien leaned over Jon like a bully, the former bandit sweated even more and raised his hands defensively. “He didn't tell me his name, other than saying that the two of you recovered an Aerinite or whatever together. He left me a letter.... Wonder where I left that thing.”

Hearing this, Damien's face darkened.

Jonas Bremble, is it? So, he's still around? And why the hell is he looking for me?

Damien felt rather uneasy at this unexpected news. He had half forgotten about encountering Jonas in front of that gin joint until now since he had too much on his plate at the moment. And to be perfectly honest, he didn't want to get involved in whatever craziness that snooty Capital-bred noble got himself into.

“You know what, Jon? If you can't remember where you stored that letter, it's fine. Forget about it.”

Damien waved his hand dismissively.

“Uhm, you sure, sir? It could be important. I mean, that man looked very desperate, you see. He wanted my absolute word that you get the letter no matter what.”

“And you don't even know where it is now. So, I'm telling you, it's cool. Don't. Worry. About. It.”

“I know where the letter is.” Gemma unhelpfully pipped in, her eyes shining in curiosity. “That dirty man, I remember too. Uncle Jon, he said it was a matter of life and death, didn't he? He said the whole Empire might collapse if the letter couldn't reach Mister Damien's hands.”

“Yeah, that he did, but don't you believe everything a crackpot tells you, little Gem.” Jon shook his head lightly. “If I get a single small Bronze coin every time a fool utters the words 'life and death' I'd be a gazillionaire by now.”

Puffing her cheeks, Gemma bounced up and down on her feet. “But, but!! That man was serious, you know. Really serious. He wasn't joking at all!!”

Ged then turned around from the workbench and approached his noisy granddaughter, smacking her on top of her head. Then towards the teary gazes of the girl who was crouched down while holding her aching head, the old master blacksmith motioned her to keep quiet. After that, he returned to the work he was doing before he got interrupted.

Somewhat bemused at the scene, Damien chuckled and decided to humor this little girl. After all, she got smacked because of her desire to fulfill the promise her uncle made with Jonas Bremble, a complete stranger.

“Alright, Gemma. Let's take a look at this Empire-shattering letter, shall we?

Yes, a new chapter's here. Barely on time, too. Whew.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 40

40​

“What happened to all the maidservants?”

Lizbeth kept a level voice as she asked Dawson. Rosy behind her was crouching slightly, ready to pounce. Their eyes were sharp, exuding a cold aura that was chilly enough to rival a Winter snowstorm.

“They are safe. Sleeping soundly and none the wiser. I did that in case they become unwanted intrusions, my lady.” Dawson replied unhurriedly. Then, gesturing towards the couch on the opposite side, he smiled and spoke. “Please, let us have a seat and chat like the civilized people that we are for a while, shall we? I assure you, I am a friend, not an enemy.”

Lizbeth silently observed the man in front of her. Having only heard a cursory description of Dawson, she wasn't sure if he was indeed who he claimed to be. For one, he had a hideous scar running from the top of his bald head down to the right side of his face. The scar disfigured his lips and the cheek quite badly – not to mention that his right eye seemed to be blinded as well.

He wore a large black robe that hid most of his figure, so she couldn't tell whether the damage extended toward the rest of his body. What was surprising to her, though, was that this man obviously suffered such a grievous injury yet had not gone about removing the visible reminders off his body. With Invocations, something like removing a permanent scar was a possible, if costly, procedure.

Tracing the gaze of the woman, Dawson slowly touched his own face, then chuckled wryly. “Oh, these? Well, these were not-so-friendly parting gifts our mutual acquaintances left behind, just for me. And yes, I'm itching to return the favor as soon as possible.”

“If you're an Agent from the Bureau, do you have identification medallion on you? And do know this – I can sense forgeries immediately, so it'll be of no use.”

Lizbeth readied herself from any sudden movements from the unwanted guest. Dawson looked at the both woman with a slightly bemused expression before sliding his hand under the robe. The women tensed up but relaxed a little when all he produced was a small wooden medallion the size of a child's palm.

He held it up high so both Rosy and Lizbeth could see the emblem etched on it clearly. A winged shieldmaiden wielding a spear, but now with a blindfold on her face – the symbol of the Special Bureau. Dawson then injected a sliver of his Aeterna, causing the emblem to come to life.

The shieldmaiden shifted her stance and slowly thrust forward the spear, causing a gentle whoosh. Then Dawson's name, written with multiple golden wisps of energy, drifted out gently from the wooden medallion before fading away.

“Satisfied?”

Dawson chuckled as he stirred the contents of the teacup with his other hand. His mannerism was of someone enjoying a relaxing Sunday lunch. He acted as if there was no reason at all to even bother looking up at the two glaring women before him.

Rosy glanced over at Lizbeth, asking her with eyes silently for a confirmation of the medallion. Lizbeth nodded and whispered. “It's real.”

Rosy then shifted her gaze outside. “I'll go around the residence, just to make sure.”

“Be careful.”

Lizbeth nodded and focused all her attention on the stranger. She dared not sit down and stood still, ready to react to whatever this man might try his hands at. She acutely felt the extra weight on her tummy, making it difficult for her to move as swiftly as she'd like to. But since this wasn't her first pregnancy, she knew already what to expect from her own body, agility-wise.

Dawson smiled bitterly at the sight of a tense but beautiful pregnant woman before him. “There is no need to act that way, Lady Lizbeth. Again, I assure you, I am a friend. Perhaps, only one you can place your absolute trust in at the moment.”

“That is an interesting position to take, Agent Dawson,” Lizbeth retorted coldly. “And why should I place my trust in you, sir? As far as I can see, you have intruded on a private property without permission. Is that not a punishable offense under the laws of this Empire?”

Dawson chuckled a bit and lightly shrugged his shoulders, before lifting the teacup to take a refined sip. After mulling the taste for a while, he sighed and placed the cup down, his face now quite serious.

“Well, you do have a point there, my lady. However, please – I have been on the road for a long while and could not defeat the temptation of a fine cup of tea. Thus, I broke in, fully knowing I've committed an offense to you.”

“Since you know, please leave. Right now.”

“I shall. But there are.... matters I must inform you of before my departure. Matters regarding your son's death. And the men behind it. Their motivations, their end goals, their memberships.... So many urgent yet difficult matters to discuss.”

Lizbeth's face hardened. She clenched her fist tightly and glared at Dawson, before recalling the conversation she had with Damien many months ago.

“My husband and you made a deal, did you not? You would track down a group of men in Lafayette who were trying to act out against the House of Baron Lomax. And in return, Baron would assist with your investigation. But before reporting on your progress, you vanished from this world. And now you're here.”

“Yes, now I'm here,” Dawson nodded. “I did vanish, as you've put it succinctly. But that was not my intention. Rather, the circumstances forced me into hiding. Your enemies had become mine as well, so it couldn't be helped.”

At this time, Rosy returned to the living room after going through Michelle's residence once. “Other maids are fine. No one else is here, except him,” said Rosy.

“See, as I said, no need to be so tense. Well then, shall we speak freely now? Oh, and the young missy, thank you for not alerting the Count's men outside. If you did, it would have been a bit troublesome. For me, that is.”

Dawson smiled affably but his eyes weren't laughing. If anything, they were dead-still like a frozen lake. However, Rosy and Lizbeth didn't sense any hostilities from him, which meant they weren't 100% sure of how to act from this point onward.

Seeing them remaining vigilant, Dawson sighed. “Oh well, I guess the situation is too strange and unexpected to be resolved with mere words. Very well. I shall speak my piece and then let you ladies decide afterwards.”

With that Dawson fished around inside his robe until he pulled out a dagger. Rosy stiffened in alarm, but Lizbeth recognized the article almost immediately.

After all, it was the same dagger the would-be assassin of Kaleena wielded all those nights ago.

“This dagger isn't the one from the assassin,” said Dawson. “It's from a man named Alistair Patrona Warburton. He was one of the men I was pursuing back in Lafayette. After apprehending and questioning him and one of his accomplices for a short while, I was able to pry out some useful information.”

Lizbeth narrowed her eyes. “Alistair.... Warburton? That name is.... familiar. But.... from where?”

“It should be familiar to you. Because he is a member of the Western Reaches Knight Division. He had piled up various achievements in the past, so he is well known in the sociable circles. And let's not forget, he has Sir Derrick and your village under his thrall.”

Lizbeth's mind shook faintly before it stabilized again. “Wait. Sir Derrick is working as a proxy to my husband. How can he be... under this person's influence? If you're about to slander him, then I shall not tolerate it.”

“Forgive me, my lady. I didn't mean to insinuate anything untoward Sir Derrick's loyalty nor at capabilities. However.... that is the current situation in Riverfield. Alistair is, outwardly, an outstanding citizen of the Empire. He has many achievements, recognition, fame and fortune. It is all too easy to mistake his public persona as his real self. Privately he's a fairly high-ranking member of a secret organization called The Children of The Amber.”

Lizbeth's complexion went yet another change upon hearing the words The Children.

Damien said that the men responsible for her son's death were members of a shady group called The Children, half of a name the information broker Mikael could uncover.

Lizbeth frowned, realizing that the name Dawson mentioned just now could not be a mere coincidence. Of course, it didn't mean that she was ready to trust everything this man said to her. Not even close.

Dawson slowly fingered the hilt of the dagger, his eyes cold and still. “I haven't uncovered the reason for their existence, nor have I track down the financial and political backers of the bastards. But one thing's for sure.... the group is targeting you. Or, more specifically, your children.”

“Why?” Lizbeth questioned, her anger suddenly shooting up through the roof. “What could mere children do? What kind of threat could they possibly pose?”

“I'm not fully sure, but it apparently has something to do with the mingling of bloodlines. Yours and your husband's,” replied Dawson. He stopped playing with the dagger and put it away. “Never mind the Lomax blood, I've been looking into your own household, Lady Lizbeth. I found that one of your ancestors was a famed Shieldmaiden of the Empire, Valeria of Hundred Battlefields.”

“Yes, so? She was an ancestor, among many. That was hundreds of years ago. How does that matter?”

Dawson shook his head. “I'm not an expert on genealogy. Even I don't have a perfect answer. However, it's possible that the intersection of respective bloodlines of Lomax, one of the Founding Fathers of the Empire, and that of Valeria's is the cause of the abnormalities your children have exhibited so far.”

Lizbeth's frown deepened. She was getting more than unsettled now. “If you're referring to Kaleena, fine. Yes, she's a prodigy. However, Kain was a normal child.”

Seeing this, Dawson tilted his head a little to look her in the eye. Then realizing that she had no idea, he began to chuckle.

“My lady, your boy Kain was a monster. Maybe even more so than Kaleena is. His Aeterna Pool vastly exceeded that of Kaleena's and yours put together. And this was when he was barely a five-year-old child.”

Lizbeth stood there, stunned. Her mind reeled at this revelation all of a sudden. A total stranger knew something about her own child, something she didn't even know about? That couldn't be. It was impossible.

She shook her head to dispel the stupor and hastily opened her mouth, but then she couldn't find the right words to say.

She tried to recall the memories of her son. They were plentiful, of course, but none gave her feelings of him being an Invocational genius the way Kaleena did. If anything, he seemed like a rather quiet, slightly subdued if whip-smart child. Sure, there were times when she saw him eavesdropping as she taught Kaleena, or when Derrick was teaching the girls. She put that down to a growing boy's curiosity.

“How can you say such a thing so confidently? My son didn't get his Affinities tested. No one knows what his results would have been.”

Lizbeth's voice was uncertain even if she tried to disguise it. After combing through all her memories, she was sure that there was no indication Kain was another prodigy. She hadn't seen it. Yet, why did she feel so.... shaken at Dawson's words?

Dawson chuckled lightly. “Well, I practice a certain type of Invocation that allows me to discern a few.... tidbits of an individual. With it, I saw your son's future potential. He could have been.... a wonderful asset to the Empire, had he been allowed to grow and develop.”

An Asset?!

Lizbeth's already boiling anger snapped after hearing the words objectifying her child. It only needed a small push thanks to the agitation she felt from the confusion and alarm, so a seemingly well-chosen word from him tipped her over quite easily.

Suddenly, the entire living room's temperature dropped below freezing point. The tea in Dawson's hand froze in an instant. Icicles formed all over the furniture's edges.

Dawson's eyes flickered momentarily before he stared calmly at Lizbeth. “My lady, if something I said offended you, I beg your pardon. Again, I did not mean to cause any further grief than what has already transpired. The slip of my tongue is due to the exhaustion from the long travel.”

His calm words did little to soothe Lizbeth's chilly anger. She might be proficient in Light Element officially, but for whatever reason when she got ticked off, she'd sometimes bring forth a precipitous drop in the surrounding temperature. Damien knew this side of her very well, having been on the receiving end a few times before. But there was no way Dawson would know. It had never been recorded until now. As simple as that.

Coldness was not a single, regular Element like Light or Water, but a Hybrid Element that required a careful synthesis of three rather disparate Elements. It was also different from Ice Hybrid Element and was a lot tougher to reproduce as well. It needed an uber-master level Invoker who had Affinities with multiple Elements and years of training to pull off. Even then, it'd be difficult to cause the drop in the living room's temperature this fast.

Seeing this new development, Dawson was, although outwardly remaining calm, inwardly found himself greatly shocked and nearly speechless. Because, Coldness Element was Valeria's specialty, according to the historical records. Suddenly, one or two things began to make sense.

The weirdest thing was, he could not sense her Aeterna Pool weakening at all from utilizing this absurd Elemental power. This was even more shocking to him. To his knowledge, he had never, ever encountered a case where calling forth a phenomenon wouldn't chew away a person's Pool.

He felt a cold sweat dripping down his back, sensing this unusual power. How such an ability was not reported or witnessed until now, that was a mystery. And he was rightly curious as to how The Children of the Amber seemingly knew of this. This made little sense to him.

Since the blood of Valeria The Shieldmaiden flowed in Lizbeth's veins, it was reasonable to assume that it also flowed in Kaleena's and Kain's. Only now, enhanced by the blood heritage of the Lomax Household.

To a layman, such a thing might not mean much, but for those in the high echelons of the society, or for someone like Dawson who held the necessary clearance, knew that it was not a simple matter like that.

The Founding Fathers were recipients of blessings, the heaven-defying fortunes that would allow their descendants to prosper as long as the main branches of the respective families didn't die out. And according to the family registry, the Lucius Lomax branch only split from the main bloodline less than a generation ago. So the power of that blessing was still quite prominent in the family.

Dawson didn't really have to imagine the results of the marriage of such powerful legacies. It was in front of him in the form of Kaleena and Kain, after all.

No wonder there were only monsters being conceived in this house. Through The All Seeing Eye spell, Dawson could easily see that the baby, a boy, growing in Lizbeth's womb would be yet another monster as well. It was crazy as hell – three in a row. No way this could be chalked up to coincidence or pure luck.

The sound of air cracking up brought him out of the reverie. There were ice particles forming seemingly from nothing all around him. Dawson felt the incredibly cold and heavy pressure pushing him down, freezing his Aeterna Pool from operating properly. It felt like Aeterna itself was being suppressed here.

Rosy, whose whiskers were fast becoming the resting places for miniature icicles, hugged herself and whimpered painfully as she shivered heavily. “Lizbeth, please calm down. You know how much I hate cold weather....”

Lizbeth snapped out of her anger-induced state when she heard Rosy's complaints. The temperature of the room stopped decreasing, and Dawson could sense that the heat in the atmosphere returning, albeit comparably slower than when it dropped like a chunk of falling rock.

Clearing his throat, Dawson took in a deep, cool breath. Normally, this was where he should wipe away a drop of perspiration on his brows, but since it had long been frozen over, there was no need. It tickled his scars, though. Which was a small annoyance.

Once his mind successfully compartmentalized his newly-gained understandings of the matter at hand and marked them for an analysis later, he decided to continue with what he wanted to say. “Alistair left one of his men, William Wincaster behind in Riverfield to act as an eye and an ear. And if the need arises, a blade as well.”

Lizbeth has fully emerged from her state of blinded anger and was now paying attention to what he was saying. She knew of William, as the man was mentioned in one of the monthly progress reports Derrick sent.

In it, it sounded like this fellow surnamed Wincaster was a detached but useful person. But now, Dawson was saying he couldn't be trusted even with a ten-foot poll.

That wasn't all.

“Because of the sweet, sweet incentive of the economic cooperation that would benefit the village greatly, Sir Derrick fails to see the danger posed by this man. Your husband, perhaps knowingly, walks into the den of wolves, seeking righteous retribution when he isn't aware of the fact that his enemies are ready for him. And, dare I say this, you are not any better off, my lady. Wolves are surrounding your doorstep and you are still flailing about in the dark, unable to build a decent wall to keep out the invaders.”

Dawson then tapped on the bottom of the tea cup after hanging it upside down. Soon, a dark brown block of ice fell out and landed on the living room table with a solid thunk.

“Your most trustworthy defender had left you for a questionable assignment far away, and now you must rely on a whim of a stranger. Then there is the big matter of your baby. With it growing inside of you, your mobility has suffered greatly. There is only so far a single bodyguard can achieve. In the end, it's a disadvantageous situation for you.”

Lizbeth felt that all this one-sided conversation sounded like him taunting her. She didn't like it. It was as if he was saying there was nothing she could do to save herself and her family, even with powers she possessed.

As if reading her mind, Dawson confidently spoke out. “Your physical powers are indeed impressive, but in society, such power can only get you so far. What you need, in order to survive, are wealth, connections, and capable pawns to act out your plans. Without those, you might as well not play The Game.”

“....And what game are you referring to? The one where my family is putting their lives on the line? I'd say that's not a game at all.” Lizbeth retorted, her voice icy. “Are you finished, Agent Dawson? If so, then please leave now. We have a lot to clean up, thanks to you. We'd rather not have any unwelcome visitors squatting in the premise during that time.”

Sighing rather theatrically, Dawson slowly got up. After silently straightening his black robe, he looked in Lizbeth's eyes and nodded. “My deal with your husband remains in effect. I'll fulfill my part in it. Just that, it has grown in its complications, is all. Rest assured, my lady – I shall watch over you from the shadows time to time. And I shall make the guilty pay for their.... indiscretions.”

“Oh? Then, what of your original assignment? Is it no longer important compared to satisfying your personal grudge?”

Dawson's face revealed a cold smile as he looked at Lizbeth for a while longer. His hand slowly rose up and touched the scars on his face, an action performed without him consciously realizing it.

“My original assignment of locating Lady Valette.... Indeed, I feel this extra work have become a dangerous obsession. But can you blame me, Lady Lizbeth? It has consumed your husband as well, after all. And I had to bury many young and capable Agents entrusted to me. If this is a grudge, then so be it – I'll do whatever it takes to soothe the souls of the departed. Your son's too, while I'm at it.”

“Thank you for volunteering, but rather, you should worry about yourself first, Agent Dawson.”

He didn't reply but began to move toward the exit. As the two women watched him make his way, Lizbeth couldn't help but ask.

“Why did you come here, Agent Dawson? You say you went into hiding because of our shared enemies. Yet, you ran the risk of exposure and came to see me. I do not understand your motivations at all.”

He stopped on his feet, standing still. He pondered briefly for a sec before turning to face her.

“I came to see you because.... I wanted you to know that I have not abandoned my mission. That I am a man of my words.”

~​

Silently, Dawson exited the residence of Michelle Banovsky. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to use the front door – the Count's men were watching.

They weren't also a bunch of brain-dead fools either, as some of their members did rounds around the outer perimeters of the estate. All of it done inconspicuously, obviously.

However, as far as sneaking techniques went, they couldn't even hold a candle to Dawson's years of training and his Affinity to the Dark Element.

The learned few always maintained an opinion that Dark Element was not as useful in a straight up combat situation. The spells within this particular Element “tree” were indeed, a little lacking in the firepower department. In the hands of an old hand like Dawson, though.... Now that was another matter altogether.

Simply by throwing a veil of Darkness Element Aeterna over him, Dawson could minimize his presence to an unbelievable degree. Even during a broad daylight, it was hard to spot him with this technique. And by utilizing his walking technique, the one Kain had encountered previously way back in Lafayette's SOIR branch where the boy thought he was walking on air, he left no sound or footsteps behind as well.

In other words, he was a medieval equivalent of the legendary shinobi.

Michelle's residence had fairly low fences. It was also surrounded by other houses of similar sizes and configurations. Close proximity to the neighboring buildings allowed Dawson to slip in and out of the shadows rather easily, avoiding detection. And once he was out of the Academy's residential area, his steps took him to the Market District.

Even on his way there, he shrunk his presence as much as possible. His black robe didn't attract too much attention as there were a few others wearing all-too-similar outfits here and there. Still, he remained vigilant. It only took a single bump against a stranger and his anonymity might be lost.

After the Special Bureau's secret base of operation was overrun by the members of The Children, he kept a very low profile. He didn't even contact his immediate superiors, all because he feared that any one of them could be a traitor. He didn't even board a Sky Ark to come to the Capital, fully knowing the journey taken on foot would take him months. It was less likely for him to be discovered by his enemies this way.

There was a trade off with the wasted time here, but he could not mind it in his current state. With no one to truly trust and all his subordinates dead, he had to keep his wits about him to not only survive but to track down and expose every single one of the traitorous scum infecting his beloved Empire. And dishonoring his reputation, too, something he had cultivated carefully for so long. That point alone made them completely unforgivable in his view.

The sun now was high up in the sky. The Market district was well organized, right down to the bricks lining the streets. There was a certain orderliness present here that was missing in the Capital only a proverbial stone's throw away.

Perhaps it was because the people living here were a well-monied bunch to begin with. No lower class riff-raff here to contaminate the waters, so to speak.

As if to reinforce this view, to Dawson's right, he saw a row of stores catering for well-heeled ladies who had made the trip from the noble districts in the Capital for the express purpose of shopping. Made sense, since many Invokers also moonlighted as capable artisans, either in their spare time or full time. People had to eat after all, regardless of whether Aeterna favored you or not.

Talking of eating, that cup of tea made Dawson a little peckish. He'd have to hold it until the arrival at his destination.

After walking for a couple of hours nonstop, he finally stood before an old outfitter's workshop, located two avenues away from the main street. The whole five-story building looked very old and ancient. The sign board hanging out in front was written in the stylized arcane lettering that went out of fashion ages ago.

Rather than entering through the front door, he went behind the building, just how he did when he went to meet Lizbeth. On the narrow path between the tailor's and its neighbor, Dawson lightly clambered over to the second floor and entered through the open window there.

Double checking that he wasn't seen, he then went to the uppermost floor.

The whole building was quiet. Not even a cathedral would be this eerie. But Dawson liked it this way. It allowed him to observe the surroundings better. The smell, the sounds, even a slight variations in atmospheric pressure created by sudden movements – all of them were easier to pick up in a completely silent world. That's why he preferred it like this. Also, a habit inherited from his master. Like teacher, like student, as one might incorrectly put it.

There was only one room, or an office, on the top floor. It was reserved for the boss of the outfitters, obviously. Dawson cleared his throat once and knocked on the door respectfully. He waited until there was an almost inaudible reply coming from within.

“Enter.”

With that prompt, he opened the old but sturdy wooden door, revealing a packed artisan's work space beyond. The room inside had all of its curtains drawn, letting a copious amount of sunlight in. Dawson could see the bright sky, white clouds dotting the blue canvas like an oil painting by a master artist.

There were wooden mannequins on either side of the room, wearing different outfits in various stages of completion. In front of one such doll, an old man in his late seventies, wearing a round magnifying lens on his right eye, was busily working on a leather surface of the outfit.

The old outfitter's aura was of a master craftsman who has been using his hands for decades. His thin, ash-white hair was pulled back in order to not obscure his eyes. His face was of someone who possessed an unfathomable wisdom and experience.

His hands moved languidly, the needle with a dark thread attached dancing to a hypnotic rhythm as it darted in and out of the leather material. Dawson entered the room and stood to a side, watching and not saying a word. Waiting, as it were, for the old man outfitter to start the conversation first.

The soft sound of a seasoned veteran working on the material gently reverberated in the room like a ticking clock, mechanical and always rhythmical, never missing a single beat. Like this, the two men remained silent for nearly half an hour.

Without looking away from the leather material, the old outfitter murmured gently.

“Your face has aged somewhat, Marcus.”

Involuntarily, Dawson touched the scars on his face again, his brows tightening a little. Sighing, he replied. “Forgive me, master. I got careless and let the enemy get the better of me.”

The outfitter, bemused, cocked a thick eyebrow. The magnifying lens fell out of the eye socket and he caught it smoothly. He turned his head slowly to look at Dawson with interested eyes.

“Do tell.”

And tell Dawson did. He didn't hold back. Every info and sliver of understanding he gained, he spat out unreservedly.

After listening to the story, the old outfitter slowly scratched his chin, his eyes closed.

“How interesting. The Children of The Amber... well, it's not my first time hearing that name. However, to think there was such a happenstance within the Baron Lomax household.”

“Master. I came here for your assistance. I do not know who to trust in the chain of command, here in the Capital. Please, lend me your strength.”

The old outfitter chuckled. “I've retired from the espionage game a long time ago. What can an old man like myself do? However, I'll make some... inquiries. Traitors, indeed, are not I wanted to see profaning the nation I helped to protect until now.”

Nodding with satisfaction, Dawson was about to leave. But the outfitter stopped him.

“Wait, Marcus. I am not questioning your due diligence, but are you certain it's Count Martinus Beaufoy Trentham watching over Lady Lizbeth? Then I advise you not to involve yourself on that front anymore.”

Puzzled, Dawson didn't say anything but waited for an explanation.

“Martinus's mother is from the Imperial Household, even if it's a distant relation. He's too well protected, but more importantly, he's also loyal to the cause of the Empire. If he's sincere, then it's likely he will keep Lady Lizbeth safe.”

The old outfitter picked up the needle with a thread on the end again and began working on the leather. As he did so, he never stopped the stream of his words.

“Instead, there is another matter, an incident that happened not too long ago that I need you to.... take a look at. It's related to The Children. The Bureau can't officially get entangled in the matter since the incident heavily involves SOIR, and their internal disciplinary committee is investigating it. But since it concerns the overall stability of the Empire, we need to act as well.”

Dawson hesitated for a moment but then nodded his consent. “Details are?”

“On my desk, second left drawer.”

Inside the drawer indicated, there was a scroll. Dawson perused the content. When he was finished, his expression was serious.

The old outfitter didn't turn his head as his hands continued its rhythmical movements with the needle.

“Agent Dawson, in the name of his Empyrean Highness, I hereby assign you a new mission: locate and execute Grand Elder Grisham of SOIR.”

A new chapter, albeit a short one. I hope you enjoy it. As usual, if there's anything you'd like to get off your chest, don't hesitate and let me know. Any constructive criticism is welcome in my book.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 41

41​

“Master, this is....?”

Dawson slowly folded the scroll and lowered it back into the drawer as if he was handling a sensitive bomb that could go off on the slightest tremor.

The old outfitter replied with a tone of voice that suggested that he was troubled as well, although it was disguised well.

“The order came in only this morning. There was an incident involving a member of SOIR and the citizens of the Empire. Because the matter involved Invokers, the internal disciplinary committee had the jurisdiction over the investigation. However, additional information uncovered by our agents reveal that the head of the committee, Grand Elder Grisham is intimately involved with the suspect.”

The old outfitter paused here, as the needle he wielded slid into a small and delicate part of the fabric. He concentrated until that was done, and only then did he continue.

“The Grand Elder, therefore, is now seen as a saboteur actively engaged in bringing disharmony to the Empire's stability. It is our duty to serve the appropriate justice. Your role is to locate the target, eliminate and temper evidence to make it seem accidental.”

Dawson glanced at his former teacher. All he could see was the back of the head, ash-white hair neatly combed back. In that moment, he wondered about the types of emotion rolling around inside the old outfitter's mind.

What would it be like to order the death of someone who was pretty much a friend?

“Master.... I see that information extraction is not requested. That is irregular. Your additional orders regarding that?”

Originally this wasn't what Dawson wanted to ask. However, he knew very well his old teacher was silently going through hell inside. So to be on the safe side, he didn't say anything that might disturb the carefully cultured facade of the outfitter.

Throughout history, many incidents required cooperation between SOIR members and Special Bureau agents. And for sure, many of them were dangerous, life-threatening affairs. In a backdrop like that, it was inevitable that bonds were forged between people. It was no exception for the old outfitter in this regard.

He and Grisham had a long history together. Sometimes, on opposite sides of the fence, at loggerheads over the handling of judicial matters. Sometimes, as reluctant allies in a hunt to rid the Empire of villains who wish to harm its health.

Basically, they were two wise and old warriors who had recognized each other. From that mutual recognition, the two built a working relationship that saw shared prosperity. It was an amicable friendship.

But now, an order came from the highest office in the Empire. And the order called for the elimination of the outfitter's friend. Of course the old teacher was not a happy camper.

Dawson knew his teacher well enough to know that he'd put the completion of duty above all else, regardless of the personal cost.

So, rather than say things that could only anger the teacher, he decided to hear the man's thoughts through an indirect line of questioning.

The old outfitter shook his head after hearing Dawson's question. “No need. The evidence has been compiled. The order given.... is absolute!! As agents, we must carry out our mission no matter the sacrifice.”

The outfitter lowered his busy hands and rested them on his lap. He remained still, never showing his face to Dawson.

The silence continued like this for a while longer, before it was broken by the outfitter's calm voice. “The HQ does not know of your return to the fold. I shall keep it that way until the threat against Lady Lizbeth is neutralized. Your anonymity is safe for now. On my part, I will dig out more about The Children of the Amber. When I recover something useful, you'll be informed of it as well. So, focus your energy on this mission, nothing else. Understood?”

Dawson frowned imperceptibly for a moment before turning on his heels to leave. And as he went past the door, he murmured softly.

“....Yes, sir.”

~​

Damien's brows twitched funnily. The reason for that was fairly simple to deduce to anyone who saw the so-called letter, left behind by Jonas Bremble with Ged's granddaughter.

It was, logically speaking, not a letter. Nope. Rather, it would be better to call it a journal. It was a book, in other words. It was not something he'd be able to skim through in one sitting.

Damien felt peeved. And rightly so.

I don't have the bloody time to go through this. Bah. Shouldn't have cared in the first place....

Damien groaned inwardly, knowing that it was too late to go back on his word. After all, he did say to Gemma that he'd take a look at this.... letter, and see what's what.

See, the thing was, he had this bad premonition about this whole thing. Although he wasn't too terribly interested as there were much, much more urgent matters on his hands, it was definitely a curious turn of coincidence that someone who should have been kicking it nice and easy in the Capital's high society was slumming it out in a.... town that was a million miles away from the twinkling starlight of glamorous lifestyle.

And then.... There was also the matter of Dukakis's missing adjutant that could be linked to this incident as well. No, not “could,” – Damien's sensitive intuition was telling him it was without a doubt, linked.

That young man hadn't surfaced as yet from whatever hole he had fallen into. Even his close relatives had no news of him. Obviously, the man's wife was suitably frantic for her missing husband's safety.

Since that guy was somehow involved with this funny business of Jonas, Damien figured that if he could unravel one mystery, then the other would come undone by itself.

His past experiences told him that a person missing for this long either didn't want to be found or was most likely rotting in a shallow grave somewhere. Or, already had become Fiend food and now, a fertilizer.

Since none of his personal articles were recovered, Damien assumed that it was quite likely the missing man was dead and buried. If he was in hiding, he'd at least try to reassure his family of his wellbeing, but because such a thing didn't happen, the likelihood of the death was higher.

What a smelly business this was.

Sighing, Damien pondered for a bit, staring at the leather-bound and foreboding cover of the letter from Jonas Bremble.

He was no longer in Ged's workshop. In fact, he was sitting on the bed in the room he rented from a kind aunty. The rent was cheap, food tasted good, and he was assured of better privacy, compared to an inn where any ol' bums could come and go as they pleased.

Of course, there was always a threat of nightly raid performed by his enemies. But he wasn't too worried – the aunty in question was an inactive Adventurer ranked Silver so she was no mug with her fists. It was the same for her husband, too.

Anyone foolish enough to try breaking in would instead get their bones broken. So yeah, Damien was perfectly happy here.

As he was pondering, he heard a soft knock on the door. It was the aunty, carrying a memo delivered by a local Adventurer. In it, a communication from The Capital. He thanked her and exchanged small talk before she went away.

Reading the memo, Damien frowned a little. Michelle had to go to Lafayette, leaving Lizbeth behind. Thankfully, an acquaintance stepped up to fill the void, but it felt just a bit too convenient to him. What a timing, he mused to himself.

Also, there was that thing about the partial destruction of Lafayette. That surprised him greatly.

“Two Divinity-class beings, huh.... Must've been something else.”

Damien muttered slowly before putting away the memo. He closed his eyes and fell back on the bed, feeling mentally tired. The past couple of months, he'd been on an edge while traveling around the Northern borders, checking out the situations there with Dukakis's men as well as hired Adventurers.

During that time, they got ambushed twice. People died. Things got tough. Worsening weather didn't help either. And now this? Lafayette destroyed, more people died? Many of them, most likely his friends?

His head ached. He was feeling worse than before.

Damien needed a good, long rest. Even he knew that. Yet, Jonas's letter waited for him to crack open the seal and read its “world-changing” contents.

Massaging his temples helped a bit, bringing some clarity to his weary mind. Finally, Damien toughened up his psyche and picked up Jonas's journal. Delaying wouldn't help anyone at all so might as well get it over with ASAP.

The cover was worn-out and faded, its leather showing the signs of a long-term use. It wasn't in tatters but pretty close. After flipping through the pages, Damien realized that rather than a letter with an excessive amount of needless writing, it was a diary instead.

On the first page, Jonas wrote thus:

“Dear Sir Damien. I entrust this record of my thoughts and the events witnessed by my own eyes with a heavy heart, knowing that by the time you read this, it is quite likely I will no longer be among the living.

What you are about to read in here are not lies, nor have I hallucinated them during a bout of madness. All of it, I swear, is real, truly occurred, and I bore witness of their veracity before the uncompromising judgments of the Gods.

I came to Marlborough not to seek the aid of you but from your father, the honorable Count Lomax. He's the only man wielding a considerable political strength that was not affected by this, for a lack of better descriptor, scandal.

I came in contact with the young adjutant under Sir Dukakis in order to facilitate the meeting, as he was an old friend.

But alas, my enemies, and indeed the enemies of the Empire and all her good citizens, have interfered.

This leaves me with very little choice but to rely on you, Sir Damien. It is truly a stroke of heavenly luck that I have run into you that evening.

I pray that you'll find the trustworthy recipients for the contents of my writing, my testimony. My final will.

Thank you in advance, and may the Gods bestow you a good fortune as well.

Sir Jonas Bremble.”

“Hmm, for a guy who seemed to be half dead, he sure wrote a long-winded introduction, huh.”

Damien murmured to himself, before flipping to the next page. He checked the date written on the top left-hand corner and confirmed that it was written many, many years ago. The content of the page was about the day Jonas entering a famed Knights' Academy in the Capital.

That confirmed Damien's suspicions. It'd be a waste of time to go through it all, page by page.

Somehow, he had to find the relevant page out of these walls of text as he didn't want to spend the mental energy reading about the early life of an overtly ambitious young man trying to make it in the society.

Good thing Jonas had carefully labeled each entry with the corresponding dates, otherwise Damien might have had to sit through the dang thing for hours on end, trying to locate all those “world-changing” contents hidden within.

He casually flipped the pages until a date caught his eye. It was the day Jonas came to Riverfield to talk to him. Curious as to how the man saw him, Damien began reading, only to feel a desire to rip the journal in half and track the writer down so he could beat the living daylights out of the feckless punk who badmouthed him.

In short, Jonas was an ass. He totally looked down on Damien, calling him a few unkind words to describe him.

Obviously, such evaluations made Damien nearly chuck the damn journal out the window and be done with it. But he held back. It was not nice to speak the ill of a dead man, regardless of how unlikable that person was.

Taking a deep breath to calm his angry mind, he flipped through the man's impressions on the near-death experiences of the Sacred Acre.

The next entry was about the time Jonas met Marquis Phillips for the very first time. The impression of the imposing man was just as Damien expected – imposing.

From this page on, things got a bit more interesting.

“Wow. So Jonas got to work on building the Sky Arks, eh. Lucky guy,” murmured Damien.

Jonas went into a great detail about the piece of strange, blue-colored parchment that was as large as a military map that had dimensions and internal layout of the Sky Ark written on it, called a Blueprint. He also stated that the writings on it were mysterious and unknown.

A translated version of this Blueprint was delivered to Jonas from the Marquis a few days after the meeting. By then, he was on his way to a secret location far from the Capital, or for that matter, any settlements of note.

And to Damien's surprise, that secret location was outside the borders of the Empire, up North, in a valley deep inside the Northern Mountain ranges. As to why such a location was chosen, Jonas didn't know. But at least Damien was able to figure out why Jonas chose to come to Marlborough – other than the stated reasons – it was the nearest big city that could be reached by foot from where the construction was taking place.

Initially, the building of the Sky Ark itself was proceeding swimmingly. No delays, no unexpected accidents, no rioting workers, nothing.

But then, one year into the construction, something strange happened. No, rather than calling it something, someone came to “improve” the working conditions. Jonas described this someone as a Visitor.

A Visitor, from another Realm. Not only that, but several of them.

Damien sucked in his breath. His mind shook slightly at the revelation.

Just as it was with every literate person of the Empire, he knew the story of the Ten Realms and how Aeterna filled in the spaces between them. He also knew of the World Tree and how this wondrous being connected all the Realms.

But never have he heard of an instance where Visitors from another Realm making an appearance.

Hurriedly he dived in the journal for more info, only to feel a bit disappointed when Jonas simply noted that the Visitors were humans, just like everyone else. No special distinguishing features, no strange and wonderful quirks, no common-sense defying abilities – none whatsoever.

Jonas was able to learn the important fact that the Blueprints had come from these Visitors. And that these men and women were contributing much to the advancement of the Empire from behind the scenes. Things like improvements of the road surfaces in the Capital, for example, were accredited to the Visitors and their practice called Science.

The Visitors improved how the horse-drawn carriages rode on the rough grounds by introducing items called the dampers. They even suggested that the highways should be maintained and patrolled in order to stimulate inter-city trade thus boosting annual revenue collected in taxes. New military tactics were passed down, new medical procedures, new printing techniques – all of them, gifted by these Visitors from another Realm.

Damien stared long and hard at that foreign word, Science, wondering what it could possibly be. A religion? A belief system? A system similar to Invocation, in order to wield Aeterna?

Whatever it was, it sure sounded mysterious. To create a flying object like the Sky Ark where even the most powerful Invocation had failed, this Science sounded like a powerful weapon to possess.

However, wonderment ceased there.

Because, some of the workers began to go missing. There were a fair few other races participating in the construction work, and they were the first to disappear.

As the on-site supervisor, Jonas had the responsibility to investigate the disappearances. However, whenever he tried to delve into the mysteries, he was cut off by the orders that came from above. He was told to not mind the unimportant details and focus on achieving the objective.

And that's what Jonas tried to do. He really did. However, as these things go, he happened to witness the Visitors forcibly kidnapping a Caniduskin worker, bundling the unfortunate man into a cage-like metal box and enter through the intense white light created by what Jonas could only describe as a pair of spinning giant metal rings.

Jonas was shocked and horrified, Hoping that this was just a one-time deal, Jonas came to the hidden spot in the valley where these rings were located as often as he could in order to assuage his fears. And he saw these Visitors routinely kidnapping people. Sometimes, even Fiends, plants, animals and Awakened Beasts.

Once, Jonas witnessed a lesser Earth Drake being dragged off by a squadron of men wearing clothes with varying shades of green and brown patterns, called Khakis. Even he could tell these men were soldiers from the way they talked and acted. But they were dressed too lightly. No plate armors, no helmets, no spears, no bows and arrows.

Only armoring they wore, were on their heads, a roundish black metal object. As for weapons, many carried daggers but the main arms seemed to be short, slender black cylindrical objects that made a series of sharp, thunderous noises when pointed at a target.

The destructive power of these items was truly unimaginable – Jonas wrote in the journal that a handful of those cylindrical weapons could wipe out a regiment of an army in a proverbial blink of an eye.

Damien was unconsciously gripping the journal hard, his knuckles turning white. He even forgot about the passage of time, too absorbed in the tales told in these pages to notice.

Suddenly, he felt quite thirsty. Leaving the journal on the bed, Damien went to the lone water pitcher and drank out of it straight, not even bothering with a mug. The liquid felt cold as it slid down his throat, refreshing his head and helping him to gather his thoughts.

He had learned quite a few shocking facts so far. One, the Empire's higher-ups were in contact with these so-called The Visitors. And they possessed the means to easily suppress the denizens of this Realm.

Two, these Visitors, for some reason, were kidnapping people. And the higher-ups, most likely, knew about this yet chose to ignore it because the benefits were greater. Thus, the lives of the citizens were treated as a necessary sacrifice for the greater good.

Damien wasn't sure whether many would agree, though – the inherent stability of the Empire, and its prosperity, laid with the various races cooperating and existing harmoniously. Each and every race that formed the backbone of this nation had their distinct, specific pros and cons.

By working together, the good points could be enhanced while the negative aspects were erased, bringing wealth and prosperity to all. That was the foundation of the Empire.

But now, the officials of this very Empire, who should have been upholding this foundation, were turning a blind eye towards the races' kidnappings. This was a serious issue no matter how one cut it.

If the respective Elders of the different races learn of this crime, then the repercussions would be severe. Maybe not to the extent where the Empire crumbled to nothingness, but enough to cause serious political upheavals and a period of instability that could prompt the enemies to crawl out of the woodwork, vying for blood.

Damien took another long swig of the water and returned to the journal. Even though what he read shocked him, he repeatedly told himself that unless proven, he had to take the words written here with a healthy dose of skepticism.

And he needed that skepticism as soon as his eyes settled on the contents of the next entry in the journal.

“That day began just as any other before it. However, during the middle of lunch, an unannounced person intruded on the construction site. He came with a veritable retinue of men and women seeing to every one of his needs and wants, which was galling to see right here in the wilderness where comforts of civilization are ages away.

Who he was, what his station was, what his purpose was – none of that was disclosed to me, the director of the operation. How angry I felt then, it could not be put down to words. Even my considerable vocabulary isn't sufficient for this purpose.

Instead, he shoved a crest of the Imperial Family in my face. As much as I hate to admit it, that crest alone means this man possesses the right to supersede my authority.

Even though it was unfair if one took to account all my contribution to this project, there was no reason to voice my displeasure, as it turned out that this person merely wished to speak to the Visitors. For that purpose alone, he has traveled all the way from The Capital. He could've simply used a communication crystal but no – he had to come here and bother me at this critical juncture.

The Visitors does not know our language, save for their leader, a man in early-to-mid thirties. The content of the discussion that ensued between the person from the Capital and the leader of the Visitors was unknown to me. I was left out of the loop once more. It's infuriating, to say the least.

But for what it's worth, it seemed to be satisfactory as the man from the Capital left with a wide grin on his face.

However, the another trouble started from there.

A few days later, the Visitors showed up with strange contraptions, telling me to mount them on the Sky Ark. Since I didn't know what those were, plus there was no mention of such things in the Blueprints, I naturally refused and sought out clarification from the Imperial Institute.

I was told to heed the request.

After the bizarre contraptions were mounted, the Visitors then decided to test it.

To my shock, the contraptions were weapons. Weapons of unparalleled destructive power.

Until now, all Sky Arks are designed for the civilian use. Not a single one is fitted with a weapon. Not one.

Mine is no exception – my Sky Ark, which I have poured all my being into. Yes, it's going to be bigger and more advanced in design, but still, its purpose is clear. Or was.

To serve the community, to shorten the travel time and distance, for a safe travel across vast distances quickly.

Yet, in a blink of an eye, my Sky Ark was turned into an ultimate weapon.

Not only that, today I was given a brand new Blueprint. Then, I was told, rather rudely, to modify the Ark. It's still far from complete so modifying certain areas should not be difficult, but even I can tell that my Ark will become a flying fortress sturdy enough to withstand an Elder Dragon's attack.

In other words, I am asked to build a warship.

Naturally, I will make sure this new direction of the project is a resounding success. After all, I always thought it was strange that not even a single Sky Ark was commissioned for a military duty.

But now, I am sure my Ark will be the very first one to soar the skies displaying the proud and noble crest of the Empire's military might. It shall show the enemies of our glorious nation something to fear.

I'm given an indelible chance to leave my name in history. Well, now that is one opportunity I shall not miss.”

Damien checked the date of the entry. It was still more than a year ago. Something happened since then that made Jonas into a desperate bum.

Impatiently, he flipped to the next page and resumed reading. It was all jumbles of Jonas's thoughts and useless information so Damien had to flip quite a few pages until another date caught his eye. From there on, he began again.

“Today, that man from the Capital came by again to speak to the Visitors once more. This time, he seemed to be in a hurry. He looked agitated, less happier than before.

What could they be talking about? Hopefully, it's not about speeding up the construction. It's not possible unless you supply me with more workers for all those the Visitors took away, and then some.”

The next entry on the opposite page. However, the way it was written showed that it was scribbled in haste.

“The man from the Capital stayed over. I overheard something crazy, between him and one of his followers. To confirm, currently heading towards the area controlled by the Northern Lepudia tribe. They have been supplying several important materials needed for the Sky Ark's completion until now. It will be disastrous for the project if what that man said was true.”

Damien narrowed his eyes. Northern Lepudia tribe supplying the Sky Ark construction project with materials? It was true that the Northern Mountains were abundant in Aeterna-rich ores and materials. Geographically, it shouldn't be too surprising to hear this.

Yet, currently the said tribe was in dire straits. No, they might have perished by now. So, where did that leave the project?

Suddenly, he felt the timing of the aggression shown by the invading Tigris tribe was too good to be a coincidence anymore.

But he still had to keep a skeptical mind. None of this was confirmed. It was, still, just a writing of a potentially deranged man.

“I've arrived at the Lepudia's territory. I confirmed with my own two eyes. We are supposed to be on friendly terms but the hostility shown to me was unbelievable. That damn Fool from the Capital did something unnecessary and made a deal with the barbarians of Tigris. Why? For what? I do not know. But many in Lepudia are dead. And they are blaming me for it. I need to hurry and leave.”

This passage was written rather poorly, unlike the previous entries. Obviously, Jonas didn't have the time to sit down and write properly.

The quality of writing dropped further in the next entry.

“On the run. My men, dead. Tigris responsible, not Lepudia. Sent people after me. Managed to cut down some of the pursuers. One of them was a Captain-rank, I think. Anyways, he knew some things. Made him talk.

Tigris want the Mystic Totem, whatever that is. Right now, I don't care. Getting back to the construction site the only priority. Or I'll die here.”

Damien furrowed his brows. He knew that Tigris was searching for the Tribal Mystic Totem of the Lepudia tribe. And they were willing to rampage in Marlborough for that. After all, acquiring or destroying it was the sign of the victory in the tribal warfare.

However, how the hell did that and the man from the Capital have anything to do with each other?

“I'm back, but something's wrong. All the workers are gone. Missing. There are more Visitors here now. I'm told I need to return to the Capital. The reason is not given. Atmosphere is bad.

But I saw a representative from Tigris here. The deal with Northern Lepudia is over. And I heard it all, straight from the mouth of the fool from the Capital. He was sneering at me, laughing at me. Bastard!!

The Visitors want the Totem. They want it for Scientific reasons, whatever that is. And they are willing to commit genocide for it. The Fool from the Capital is willing to accommodate the request. In return, he wants the Visitors to complete the Ark faster and outfit it with weapons.

The Fool wants to start a war. Not with any other countries, not with the dormant long-eared ones in the East, not with the sea-faring pirates of the Southern Isles, nor to conquer the dark lands further South of that. No, not even to explore the rumored Holy Continent to the West.

This fool wants to start a bloody civil war. Just to hand-deliver the Imperial Crown to the Second Imperial Prince!! He wants a show of power to scare all the opposition into hiding, even if it means citizens of the Empire will suffer!! Including me!!

Damn it all to hell!! I did not sign up for this!!”

At this point, Damien nearly dropped the journal. His face was now as pale as a sheet of paper. Taking another deep breath, he steadied his trembling hands, continuing to remind himself that none of this was confirmed. That, all of this was nothing more than a rambling of a mad man.

“I somehow escaped my forced confinement and now am wandering the wilderness. I know a place in the borders where I can slip through. But where can I go?! Obviously, Marquis is aware of this plot. More than likely, he's a part of it. So I can't return to the Institute.

What about my old acquaintances in the Capital?

No. I can't trust them. I know about the succession battle. The sides are chosen already. And I've been away for too long. Who knows where the loyalties lay now? Allegiances can shift according to the flow of wealth. I can't trust anyone, at all.

Wait. Maybe I can go to Marlborough. Count Lomax's household, last time I checked, isn't involved with the shenanigans of the Capital. Maybe they are not intimately involved. No wait – the Count Lomax household is allied with the Grand Duke's faction, not with the Queen's side. That's right.

This means... Yes, I should contact the Count. It's the only way.

If I remember correctly, one of my mates is serving as an adjutant there. He was one of those do-gooders back then, so maybe.... Just maybe, he's clean enough for me to rely on. He'll listen if I plead earnestly.

I must use this knowledge as a leverage. I must survive this hell and come out of the other side, alive. I've worked too hard until now.

I can not throw it all away. I will negotiate for favorable terms. Then, I shall take all I've learned to the Capital, and expose all those who have conspired against the Empire – and me!!

I'll endure. Just watch, I will!!”

That wasn't the end of the journal. There were few other entries after that, but none of them gave him any new information, other than a rough sketch of a map where the strange, spinning pair of circles were located in the Northern Mountains. Jonas noted that the circles seemed mechanical and not easy to move to another location. If anyone wanted to, they could just go and find it, using the map.

In another page, there a rough portrait of a man, with the caption below – “The man from the Capital.”

Damien couldn't recognize the man. Not surprising, really, considering he hadn't socialized with many, back when he was still living in the Capital.

The final entry was full of gibberish. But Damien could just about make out the tone of despair in the entry. In it, Jonas was sure that his only reliable contact was dead, the pursuers from the Queen's faction taking care of him.

And when he saw Damien that night, Jonas thought of tracking him down and asking for his aid but was unsure where his allegiance lied. So, he didn't carelessly approach. He observed Damien leaving the city to visit the blacksmith on the outskirts a few times, and made a mental preparation to intercept him.

However, before he could do that, Jonas caught a frostbite while staying outdoors and was quickly losing the mobility of his foot.

And by then, Damien was out of the city, checking out the borders. So, all Jonas could do was to leave the journal behind with the blacksmith. Or his granddaughter, for that matter.

Damien massaged his temples silently. His headache had exploded into a full-on march of the Imperial Army, trampling down on his head relentlessly.

He threw the journal on the bed angrily and began pacing the bedroom.

In all honesty, Damien was too stumped for words. He had no idea what to do now.

He came here to deal with The Children of the Amber, not this.... monumental mess.

Damien stopped pacing about and sat down on the bed, thinking.

No, wait. None of what Jonas wrote down here can be proven. Nor can it be summarily dismissed. Visitors and all that is one thing, but the kidnappings and the attempt to start a civil war is truly a grave accusation labeled at this noble from the Queen's faction.

….

….Damn it, what should I do? It's obvious Dukakis and Father do not know of these plots unfolding behind their backyard. At least, Dukakis would've mentioned it to me if he knew.

But more importantly, how did such important matters escape Dukakis's meticulous attention? It's just not possible.

Something else is going on here.

Damien glanced at the journal, his eyes narrowing. He was on another crossroad, one he didn't want to be on. Too late now to back off.

If everything written on it was true, and indeed Jonas had died, then this journal became the last will and the testimony. In the laws of the Empire, this meant the accusations contained within must be thoroughly examined. The parties involved would be unhappy with that outcome, for obvious reasons.

They would spare no expense to destroy any and all evidence, including a journal so damning like this. And by extension, all who clapped their eyes on the offending book as well.

That included Damien, now.

He grasped the journal tightly. He wasn't sure what would be the best way to handle this delicate situation.

But whatever the case may be, he needed to hide this journal first. And then, figure out what to do.

As he fidgeted around the journal's worn cover while lost in thought, a sliver of a pocket opened up and an item, a locket, fell out.

Damien picked it up and carefully opened the latch. In it, he saw a tiny portrait of an old, dignified gentleman and a young boy sitting on his lap, also looking dignified and serious.

The boy was Jonas. As for the old gentleman.... probably his grandfather. The two looked alike so it was easy to tell they were related.

Sighing, Damien put away the locket in the pocket on the journal cover, wondering whether if he could locate Jonas now. If he could, then....

Then nothing. Finding the snobbish nobleman would do nothing. The core of the trouble remained the same.

Fine, I'll have to talk to Dukakis about this. But before that, let's make sure of the reasons why he hasn't even heard of this noble from the Capital leaving the borders to rendezvous with foreign agents. There could be someone in his camp blocking the flow of information.

If so..... looks like my workload just increased a bunch, didn't it.

A new chapter!! But.... it's so lonely in here.....

 

Spoiler: Chapter 42

42​

Damien wrecked his brain the whole night, thinking of a good place to stash the journal. There were a few places that came to his mind but none of them were truly ideal.

In the end, not only did he lose a considerable amount of sleep, but he couldn't even come up with a good hiding place either. All in all, a total waste of his time.

His worries didn't end with the safe keeping of the journal. The big issue here was that Jonas successfully tailed Damien without being discovered. Now that was a troublesome matter in itself.

His pride was properly shattered by this revelation. He was a hardened Adventurer, a Gold-ranked one, even – yet, a snooty noble with no training in subterfuge was able to observe him unnoticed? That was one mean sucker punch to his guts. Was he getting old and his senses dulled? Whatever, he was not happy about it.

And thanks to this blunder, Damien felt more cautious of his surroundings. While walking through the streets of Marlborough on his way to the Count's mansion he was really conscious of everything going on around him.

Damien felt doubly exhausted by the time he got to his destination. Coupled with the mental fatigue and lack of good rest, he was in a wry and irritable mood. At least the sun was out and about, which was nice.

Cassius the ever-faithful butler was waiting for him at the entrance of the mansion with a warm, expectant smile. Damien found this expression welcoming, and to him, it was exactly what the doctor ordered for his tired mind.

After exchanging some light pleasantries, Cassius led him into the mansion's audience chamber and served a plate of sweetly scented tea as well as tasty biscuits.

Although the treats didn't cure all of his weary bones, Damien still felt a whole lot better after snacking on them. The tea was particularly nice, with a breezy, light feel to the taste, making him want to drink it more. He wasn't a tea connoisseur, but hell, even he could tell how good this stuff was.

As he snacked, Cassius informed Damien that Dukakis was in the middle of a meeting with military advisers and thus he had to wait a bit. A consequence of not making a prior appointment, or so he was told.

Damien came this close to making a snide retort about the fact that he needed to seek permission before speaking to his own brother but since he knew such a thing came with the territory, in the end, he firmly shut his mouth.

So, he quietly sat on the large couch in the chamber, eyeing the decoration that hadn't changed in years.

Right in front, there was a large painting of the legendary mountain, The Helix. The story went like this:

There was a land where deities descended on the mortal world. The Gods wanted to teach the ignorant masses the correct way to live the precious lives granted to them.

And after doing their teaching bit, they supposedly raised a massive mountain where they had landed originally as a reminder of their divine message that would withstand the passage of time.

Funny thing, though, was no one knew where this mountain was supposed to be. So, ironically, the reminder could not perform its intended job. Still, fables kept the spirits of the story alive and passed it down to the younger generations, so there was that.

However, the mountain being “missing” from the world didn't stop the enterprising artists to come up with their own ideas of how the majestic landscape should look like. As a matter of fact, Damien was staring at one right now. And it was rather a nice painting, too. Must've cost a fortune.

There was a family portrait hanging on another wall. Perhaps tellingly, there were not a single group portrait – Count Lomax was always alone while Dukakis and Donatella shared a frame. There was one for a very young Damien as well, along with his dearly departed mother.

He grimaced a little at that. It had been a long time since he thought about his mom. Ages, actually.

And just by thinking of her and the complicated childhood he went through, Damien was reminded of his dead son. And the unborn child in Lizbeth's womb.

He suddenly felt real melancholic and lonely.

What the hell am I doing here?! He sighed wearily. I.... I can't remember what I'm supposed to do anymore. How.... tiring.

Damien blinked his eyes as the view became misty. The images of his wife and daughter filled his mind. He missed them. A lot.

He counted the days in the head and concluded that the pregnancy was at an advanced stage. Fortune willing, Lizbeth would give birth to another life soon.

Damien swore to himself that he'd be there, no matter what. Even if it was the end of the world. Even if the civil war broke. Hell, even if those silly Visitors abducted him, he would find a way to come back.

Thinking this, he felt at ease. He glanced around some more, and saw a rough approximation of the territories governed by the House of Count Lomax displayed proudly on the largest, most spacious wall in the chamber. It was another one of those artistic reinterpretations of a real map, its only purpose to grandly inflate the significance of the land belonging to this family.

As his eyes traced the lines of the map that wasn't a map, he saw the undulations that represented the border walls.

Unconsciously, Damien began comparing the map Jonas drew on the pages of his journal to this painting. He began matching the landmarks that were on both of the maps. Before long, his eyes stopped moving as the map of the territory ended before he got to the “X” in Jonas's handiwork.

However, this gave Damien an idea.

Hmm. Maybe I should go and look for that metallic rings Jonas described. He did say it couldn't be moved, that it looked ancient and whatnot. Or did I read it wrong?

If those things are still there, then is it safe to assume everything I read in the journal, although not entirely convincing, has at least a kernel of truth?

Damien nodded his head slowly as he made up his mind. Jonas jotted down the place where he slipped in through the borders; he could use that to sneak across.

He'd have to prepare well, however. The Winter was coming, and it was going to be another harsh season of white blizzards and howling winds. And there was the Tigris Barbarians to look out for, never mind the hungry Fiends intent on having a feast with human flesh. Damien would prefer it was not his.

The question was, though, whether he could make the trip in time for the birth of his child. He still had to go back to Argos on a Sky Ark. And get on a carriage, travel like a madman across the gridlocked city, go through the Academy's entrance procedure – all that took time.

Could he be able to arrive in time?

If he was just going to take a look at the site where those rings were, then he could. He might be cutting it close, but as long as he hurried, then sure, he would be there for the birth. That he was sure of.

Once he computed all this, Damien began planning. He thought about the equipment he'd need, the provisions, maybe even hiring help – the important question was about procuring the necessary finances first.

Dukakis should compensate him handsomely for the job well done, so Damien was confident that as far as money was concerned, he was fine. As for the help, he'd go with the Adventurers he worked with while checking out the borders. The Barbarian terror threats have largely been suppressed by now, and the most of the infiltrators have been apprehended and taken care of. So, there should be a fair few Adventurers free to take on another assignment.

And having extra eyewitnesses seemed like a good idea. Who knows what might happen out there.

He was beginning to feel rather excited for some reason. The mere thoughts of exploring the vast, hostile wilderness on a yet another adventure were making him happy. It was right up his alley, so to speak.

As he was chuckling to himself, Damien heard footsteps. When he looked up and checked to see who could it be, a group of unfamiliar faces in a jovial mood walked past the hallway visible via the open doorway.

Since this audience chamber was near the entrance of the mansion, these people had to walk past Damien's scrutiny if they wanted to leave.

“Who are they?”

Damien asked Cassius, slightly curious about their origins. They sure didn't look like military advisers to him.

“They are weapon merchants from the Capital Argos, my lord. They arrived three nights ago, and were negotiating with Lord Dukakis until now.”

The old butler informed him quietly, as if he didn't want others to hear.

Nodding his head, Damien resumed his snacking after losing the little interest he had. However, he then had a lightbulb moment.

Wait a minute. That unnamed noble must've come via a Sky Ark. That means he had to register his arrival via a Truth Board at the Station.

That means there are records of his identity.

Damien's eyes flashed with the realization. If he could take a look at the records then he'd able to largely confirm Jonas's story. Couple that with him personally checking out the site where the Visitors entered this realm, then he had his proofs.

Where are the records kept, I wonder? It should be either here in the mansion, or at the City Hall's archives.

Damien furrowed his brows. He was sure of the records being there in the City Hall, but the problem was accessing it. He could flex his familial connections and gain an entrance that way, but that would mean providing adequate reasons for wanting to see the records to Dukakis.

Since Damien wasn't sure of the ones responsible for the blockage of the flow of information, he didn't want to alert anyone just yet of his discovery. In other words, he didn't want to lie to his brother.

Hmm. Should I sneak in? No, that wouldn't work. The security around the City Hall should be too tight for me to break in. And I'm not a rogue to begin with. Infiltrations were never my forté. Yeah, never mind that. Let's think of another option.

As he sat there contemplating, this time another round of clamoring footsteps could be heard. They sounded urgent.

The figures flashing past the open doorway were soldiers. The looks of consternation were palpable on their faces. Quite obviously something bad had happened.

Instinctively, Damien got up and followed the soldiers to their eventual destination.

And that was Dukakis's office.

The soldiers hurriedly entered without even knocking and announced loudly.

“My lord!! There's a trouble down at the City Hall!! It's the Barbarian agents!!”

~​

Meanwhile, Kain was trying to drag his sluggish feet over the broken cobblestones that lined the streets of the dead city.

The sun mercilessly beat down on his tired body. There were no shades to cool his burning muscles down either, as the buildings all around him were all in the states of demolition.

A small and fluffy brown-colored squirrel squinted its eyes at him inquisitively, before energetically sprinting away and disappearing behind some broken structure.

Yeah, sure. Abandon me and go away. Like I care.

He grumbled inwardly as his feet continued the excruciatingly slow march forward. Behind him, a large rubble the size of a car's door, tied to his waist with a vine. A ton of sweat fell off his head, soaking the thin and tattered tunic the boy wore.

Yep, he was training. Like a slave. Emma's idea.

He has been dragging this large and heavy chunk of what was, in essence, a small boulder back and forth for a couple of days right after his internal injuries were more or less healed up. Not that he was injured too badly from the beginning, though – just the case of extreme Aeterna drainage which could be cured by a good, long rest.

Anyways.

After coming this close to crossing the river Styx in the underground research facility, Emma decided that Kain was too weak physically and it was about time she put him through some spartan training.

The kind that easily matched the Old Man's own hellish regime, and then some.

The boy just wanted to kick back and relax, maybe throw in Aeterna and ch'i practices via the prolonged meditation sessions now and then, but that plan got shot all to hell.

Just how long are you going to make me drag this damn thing around for?!

Kain groaned aloud as he trudged forward until the edge of the rubble caught on an outcropping of some sort. And it refused to budge. Not even an inch.

Too wasted to complain, he sat down on the ground and heavily panted. Emma told him not to use any ch'i or Aeterna with this training so it was proving to be doubly difficult considering his tiny physique. Not to mention cruel, too. Just how the hell was he to endure this torture?!

This was not possible for someone as small as he was. No way he'd be able to develop enough muscles like this. After all, he was not a protagonist from a Japanese Shounen manga who was endowed with a convenient plot device like some.

Sighing, he finally gave up and lied down on his back, watching the Autumn clouds slowly drift away in the crisp blue sky. One of them looked like a vanilla-flavored marshmallow. Oh, how he craved for something artificially sweetened, right about now.

Another one floating lazily by, kinda looked like a slick sports car. Oh, how he wanted to drive one. The car, not the cloud, obviously.

He knew very little about cars or how they worked, but at least his sense of aesthetics was just fine. He knew a nice looking piece of kit when he saw one. Didn't really matter now, though. It was unlikely that he'd ever get to see a car in this lifetime. Unless he straight up went and invented it, like so many of the transmigrated MCs tend to do....

Next, he saw a cloud that sorta looked like.... Emma's face, of all things. It was right above his head, actually, peering at him curiously. Just like that squirrel from earlier. He thought that was one funny coincidence.

However....

“Hey, whatcha doing, little master Kain?”

The Emma-shaped cloud opened its mouth and asked him. He wasn't prepared for that sudden event and jumped up surprised, banging his forehead against the cloud Emma's with a dull thud.

Turned out, it was real Emma after all.

Both saw a cluster of stars swimming in front of their eyes for a few seconds, before she smacked him in the back of the head, irritated at the uncalled-for assault.

“Hey, what was that headbutt for?! It hurts, you know!!”

Kain rubbed the front and the back of his head, apologizing. “Sorry. You startled me, that's all.”

After all the wringing went away, Kain finally noticed two sets of bows slung over Emma's shoulders so he asked her about them.

“Oh, these? They are for you, little master. Well, one of them is.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Don't be silly. Of course, to shoot arrows. What else? I'm gonna teach you archery from now on.”

Kain raised an eyebrow. “Eh? You want me to practice one more thing on top of all the others?! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Awww, don't be like that. It's for your own good, you know. Look, you're too short and small so you can't swing a sword in a fight and hope to hit something. So, why not use a bow from a distance? I think it'll be much, much better for you like that.”

Kain hesitated for a second, before nodding his head. After giving the matter some thought, he had to admit what she said made sense.

As things stood currently, getting up close and personal to deliver a satisfying smackdown was simply out of question. Besides his short reach, he just lacked enough strength to deal any fatal damage. Besides, he'd only get in the harm's way, trying to act like a hero.

But if he was a bit far away and continue to pepper his targets with arrows, especially if those said arrows were coated in deadly poison....

Just thinking about this brought a creepy smile on his face.

Seeing this grin, Emma backed off slightly, feeling just a bit scared at the evil leer.

Ignoring her, Kain immediately consented for the archery training to be added to his already taxing regime.

However, almost as soon as he decided to do this, a big problem arose.

“Uhm... hey, Emma. Don't you think all of these bows are a bit.... on the big side for me?”

“What are talking about?! These are fine!!”

Emma grabbed the bow she'd been using until recently and handed over to Kain.

But then, she saw the problem herself, too.

The bow was taller than Kain. There was no way the boy would be able to carry it around, let alone pull the string and fire an arrow with it.

Silently, she looked at the bow, then at Kain. Then, she looked at the other bows she brought with her. And she kept on alternating the end of her gazes at the bows and Kain, her head bobbing up and down repeatedly.

Soon, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment as the awkward atmosphere descended on the area.

Kain stood there, not saying a word but inwardly amused of the proceedings so far.

Emma lightly coughed and cleared her throat. “Uhm. Right. So, ah. Yeah, I see what the problem is. So, ah.... Hmm. Oh, I know!! Why don't we go and find out if there's a bow for your size!!”

“Hmm? Where? In that underground facility again? No thanks.”

“No, no, no. Not there, but there!! In the armory, inside the fort!!”

~​

Last time Kain entered the depths of the fort, he took the passage on the ground floor to the right because of stupid reasons.

This time, after being urged by Emma, he went upstairs by the grand staircase and to his left. Even here, vines were everywhere but to his surprise, they were not as prevalent as on the lower floors. If anything, the decay and the damage done by the passing time were a lot less severe.

There were many other rooms here, with plenty of sunlight coming in through the open windows. As he advanced slowly, he even began to find ones with locked doors. On top of that, there was a faint but still present Aeterna coming out of these inaccessible rooms.

He did his best to pry open one or two, and every time the result was the same – the door broke open, he'd find a well-preserved room with all its furnishing intact, but then, whatever Invocation that kept the place pristine would end due to his presence, and everything crumbled to dust in a single heartbeat.

This pattern repeated itself for a while longer, until he got towards the back of the fort, which meant he was getting nearer the top of that huge black doors with the ancient battlefield depicted on it.

Here, the Aeterna flow was a lot stronger and the Invocations supporting the preservation of the rooms were that much stronger as well.

And as the natural light faded with him moving closer to the interior of the fort, small crystals emitting soft blue glow acting as light sources in many of the preserved rooms began to appear frequently. If Damien, or for that matter, any experienced Adventurers, saw those crystals, they might have recognized them as the ubiquitous Lazulites found in many Sacred Acres around the continent.

As the luck would have it, he even found several chests full of kids' clothing. Some of them even fit him perfectly.

He couldn't say no to a new set of duds since his current wears were all full of holes. Even better, none of these turned to dust the moment he took them out of the Invocation spell's area of effect.

He did feel a bit morbid about snatching stuff off some dead kid, but now wasn't the time to be squeamish about things like that. If he did, then that nice pair of leather shoes, which he wore without reservation, would have to endure rotting in solitude for all eternity, never knowing the pleasant sensation of a person's toes wriggling within their innards.

With his actions, he had liberated them all. That's how Kain decided to look at it.

After going through more rooms, he finally got to the pair of pretty large, dark metallic doors with quite a huge amount of Aeterna oozing off them. Since he could see the emblems of shields and spears and swords carved on the doors, even he could tell this was his destination, the armory.

But getting here and entering were two different problems. Emma had gotten this far before, and according to her story, she had opened the door to take a peek inside so Kain believed he should be able to do the same as well.

Although he wondered how the hell did that Elf woman even got this far – after all, she was the one insisting on not coming anywhere near the fort, saying the whole place was sacred or some such.

When he asked her about this inconsistency, she blamed her impetuous youthful attitude.

Well, that's not important right now. Let's see, how do I open this heavy doors? There isn't a doorknob or a place to slot in a key... Do I just push them in?

Kain leaned over one of the doors and gave it a small shove. And it opened easily enough. All that worry for nothing in the end.

In front of his eyes, an expansive armory stretched far. He saw so, so many weapons, all waiting for someone to come and take them away.

There were no vines here; the walls were rough and unadorned, save for a handful of large, red flags hung on the walls. The emblem on it was a foreign one to Kain. There was some kind of writings on the flags but the alphabets were foreign, too.

Immediately to his front, he saw a giant Invocation array carved on the floor. There was a matching one on the ceiling as well, which was high enough to let the tallest giraffe trundle around no problem. Aeterna flowing off these two told him they were the ones keeping everything fresh and usable until now. What a preservation spell this was.

They emitted an eerie glow, blanketing the armory and all its contents. Those crystals with blue lights were present in here as well, sensibly placed on top of each stack of carefully sorted weapons.

Kain stepped cautiously inside, checking out the state of each displayed weapons. Spears and lances of various lengths and thickness were propped up against the walls on either side in the wooden racks. Shields were hung on the walls, plain steel swords, placed in leather scabbards lining the tops of many stone plinths.

There were fewer bows here then other types of weapons, though. Like the shields, they were hung on walls by their limbs – frames – and not by the strings. Quivers of fine arrows were located below; Kain estimated there were at least ten thousand of them here. Whether that was a lot of arrows or not, he couldn't tell.

He went around inside the armory, carefully feeling the sharp edges of all the blades; not a spot of rust or decay was present – as if they were manufactured only yesterday.

As he walked forward a bit, he saw a display cabinet that was different to the others. Many cabinets were filled with majestic swords and armors and other assortments of cool, fantasy-spec weapons, but this one cabinet gave off a slightly more somber atmosphere. When he looked in, there was a gleaming dagger placed inside.

A medium-sized dagger if an adult held it, but a full-size sword for Kain's diminutive figure, for some reason he could not tear his eyes away from it.

Kain carefully lifted it out, feeling its substantial weight. He was equally careful as he slid the scabbard off the blade, revealing the ultra-smooth, beautifully polished surface. It was even shaped like the claw of a bird of prey.

Both the hilt and scabbard also had elaborate, minutely detailed carvings and decorations of a large bird-like fantasy creature etched on the tough leather, showing off the kind of care and craftsmanship commonly seen in a super-expensive item.

He clearly saw his own reflections on the blade. In that moment, he knew he wanted this dagger. He wanted it more than he wanted the next breath.

So, he tucked it in the belt. This dagger was his now. And no one was going to stop him from claiming it so. Once so equipped, the heaviness of the weight seemed to disappear.

And as for the bows, his original reason for coming here, they were all too darn big for him. Hell, there was a batch of bows so gigantic, it seemed like only the giants could use them – each bow was as tall as two Kains stacked on top of one another.

And as for the arrows, he decided not to take them either, as they were all designed to be used in conjunction with the large bows. In other words, he couldn't use them.

He could take a few for Emma, but she didn't seem to be left wanting for the extra quantity of arrows, so it wasn't really necessary. Besides, even a single quiver full of arrows looked pretty heavy. So, he'd rather not.

Smiling contently, he left the armory and the door closed by itself behind him.

Kain no longer saw the point in staying there anymore. So, it was time to leave.

However, he wasn't disappointed at all. Nope. He was as pleased as a man could get, actually. That dagger felt so right in his hands, it was as if the weapon was meant for him. That a blacksmith from the distant past knew Kain would come so he prepared it for that eventual day.

As crazy as that might sound, that's how Kain felt about it.

Walking on light steps, Kain leisurely made his way out. In the meantime, he took out the dagger to examine it closely. He swung it around, taking a mock battle stance, thrusting it forward and following it up with a well-practiced kick.

Oh, man, this thing feels so good!! Boy, am I glad that I went there or what. What a find.

Normally, a man's desire would be to hold a gleaming, heroic sword, like say, Excalibur or some such, but for Kain, he preferred this over those showy weapons. For one, he couldn't even wield them in the first place, so unless he was looking for an expensive paperweight, he had no business with them.

And two, this dagger, size-wise, was perfect for him. The blade itself was made of a metal Kain couldn't recognize, probably the genre-trope magical metal only found in the realms of fantasy.

He swung it one more time, smiling, then by accident he struck one of the countless vines in the passageway.

Kain knew how sturdy these vines could be, so he wasn't too disappointed to see only a small nick on the dark green surface, but that made him wonder.

If he could reinforce his body with ch'i or Aeterna, or both, then could he do the same to weapons in his hands?

He even scared himself for thinking of stuff like that. Could a regular person even dream of such a thing in the first place? Not likely, unless he/she was deeply invested in becoming a fantasy hero in a near future.

Taking a deep breath, Kain tried to infuse just a tiny bit of ch'i into the dagger. To his surprise, it was like trying to fill up a bucket with water when there was a massive hole on the bottom. It was literally an endless black hole, continuously demanding the nonstop flow of ch'i into it.

No, this is wrong. This can't be right.

Kain frowned and stopped what he was doing. After giving it some more thought, he then decided to infuse the dagger with Aeterna from his own Pool instead. Since his Affinity lay with Earth Element, that was what he went with.

The dagger became incomparably heavier. He nearly dropped it because of that. But thanks to the added weight, the impact behind each thrusts were greater. In other words, he just haphazardly found a way to increase the damage of each of his swings.

“Cool!!”

Kain chuckled loudly as he swung the heavier dagger around after bolstering his arm muscles with the Body Enhancement spell. It was still heavy, but not unreasonably so. He could definitely use this.

As for the mystery of ch'i being swallowed up, he'd need to investigate more thoroughly later on.

He believed that the golden disc and this nameless dagger would serve him real well in the future.

Happily, things were looking up for him now.

Another short chapter today.

"I tried, guys."

 

Spoiler: Chapter 43

43​

“What is the current situation?”

There was a deep frown on Dukakis's face as he spoke to the small, flickering image of the city's guard captain. The image was being transmitted from a portable communication crystal, the one held by the man. To say the man's face was solemn – now that was an understatement of the year.

Currently, Dukakis was in his office, surrounded by his advisers and Damien. And none of them had happy faces, which was perfectly understandable considering the situation. The atmosphere within was also quite intolerable.

“My lord. The situation is volatile as we speak. Scores of Barbarian combatants have barricaded themselves inside the City Hall, holding the City Magistrate, City Officials as well as numerous civilians hostage. I have cordoned off the immediate area and placed archers on the rooftops just in case.”

Dukakis held his head, his face now a pit of anger and confused agony. The frown on his head now was as deep as a canyon. Groaning like a wounded bear, he asked the image of the captain.

“What are their reasons for taking hostages? And how did they get inside the city, my city, without being detected?! Bloody hell. What else is there? Are they making threats? Demands? Anything?”

“No, my lord. They have only sealed themselves inside, and warned us that if we approach, they will execute all the hostages.”

“How can they seal themselves inside?! The City Hall isn't a bloody fort, for heaven's sake!! Can you not storm your way in and subdue the bastards, Captain?”

Dukakis exploded in anger, his eyes bloodshot. He angrily slammed his fist down on the desk, rocking the contents on top. The flickering image then shook like the flame of a dying candle before restoring itself again. The face of the Captain showed a slight shock but he did well not to show it off too long. Seeing that, Dukakis managed to calm down just a tad.

“No, disregard that, Captain,” Dukakis shook his head and massaged his temples weakly. “You said that City Magistrate is one of the hostages. Has his safety been confirmed?”

“Yes, my lord. One of the Barbarians displayed the Magistrate near the window of his office. That was only a few moments ago..... My lord!! Someone's come out of the building!! Please hold on for a while as I ascertain the current situation!!”

Everyone in the room tensed up at this unexpected development. A thick, uncomfortable silence continued for a what seemed like forever while they waited for the captain to return.

Finally, the static image of the captain reappeared, his face sweaty and his breath heavy.

“What say you? What news do you bring us?”

Dukakis impatiently asked.

“That is.... the person was one of the hostages, a maidservant. She brought the demands made by the Barbarians. The invaders want all their brethren we have apprehended released, as well as the return of the Mystic Totem of Lepudia Tribe. They want this done before the day's nightfall, or one hostage will be killed every half hour.”

“That again?! Are these Barbarians deaf? Or are they just too slow to understand? We repeatedly let it known that we do not have the bloody Totem!! Oh, dear goddess. This is just....”

One of the military advisers angrily spat out, throwing his hands in the air in an exasperated manner. Other advisers too, went on various abusive tirades of their own.

Of course, all these yappings did nothing to lift the taut and tense air of the office not one bit. If anything, they made it worse.

Taking a short glance at the unhelpful folks, Damien wanted to shake his head but didn't. He knew from experience that people like these did not take too kindly even the slightest of slights or disrespect towards them. Stuff about having pride and some such useless egotistical nonsense. In all honesty, Damien couldn't care about stroking their ego any less even if he tried, but for the sake of harmony – what's left of it – he decided to not to show his emotion.

Instead, he thought it would be better to be helpful.

“Dukakis, setting aside the issue with the Totem, what can you tell me about the Barbarian prisoners? How many are in custody right now?”

Dukakis's face darkened even further before answering the question.

“We had 23, if I recall correctly. However, more than half that number have already been executed for the crimes of murder and destruction of the Empire's property. The fates of the rest are pending in the military tribunal.”

Damien was shocked to hear his brother's reply, and could not hide his emotion this time around. “....Well, that was unexpectedly expedient, wasn't it? Were they even given a proper legal counsel? Did the due process even adhere to?”

The tone of his voice didn't go unnoticed by the military advisers. And sure enough, the man who did the exaggerated hand gestures chimed in with his displeasure.

“Of course, the constitutions of our Great Empire was adhered to!! We provided them with more than adequate defense, yet their guilt was never in doubt!! The speedy nature of their trials was only due to the overwhelming amount of evidence all pointing to the one inevitable conclusion, the verdict of guilty as charged. So, why waste time and resources on these murdering bastards?!”

Damien briefly pursed his lips in annoyance before ignoring the man completely. What had happened, happened. Nothing could be done about it, now. The ones left behind had to do as the bargaining chip. Although, since their comrades were already mostly dead, it was unknown how the Barbarians would react to the news.

Damien was pretty sure it wouldn't nice, though.

Turning his attention back to his brother, he asked. “What will you do, Dukakis? Do you have anyone with hostage negotiation skills?”

Dukakis shook his head. “None. But do we need one? They are just a bunch of uneducated Barbarians. Surely, we could make them acquiesce either with threats or incentives.”

“No, that won't work,” replied Damien. “I'm not an expert, but have seen a few doing their jobs before, and let me tell you this – uneducated ones are the worst to deal with in this types of situations. They won't listen to reason and will try to stick to the script. Their script. Whatever incentive we come up with, they won't bite. Worse, these guys are not soft. They took over the Hall – they are intending on throwing away their lives if it comes down to that.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? We can't even meet their demands half of the way. All I can think about is to gather up the troops and storm the building. Otherwise, will there be any other resolution for us? Any other options?”

Dukakis seemed to age another decade as he exchanged words with Damien. He looked wane, weaker, pale – as if he hadn't seen the sun for a good few months.

After thinking for a bit, Damien sighed out loud. He too, couldn't see a good way to handle this without taking casualties. The one Dukakis worried the most was the City's Magistrate; he was the top government official of the city. Dispatched by the Capital to oversee the complicated matters of carrying out the mandate of the Empire's legal system, a Magistrate was in essence a Mayor and a General Secretary rolled into one.

Needless to say, the man had quite a bit of political clout in the city and beyond. To have him fall at the hands of the Barbarians would be very bad for Dukakis and the Lomax household in general.

Until now, the chaos that wrecked the city didn't spread too far and wide, all because of the concerted efforts of the merchant company, West & Brooks. And later on, even Dukakis himself playing an active role in convincing the Magistrate to under-report the significance of the outbreak of violence in the city.

That act of convincing took some doing on Dukakis's part. He worked pretty hard to get the Magistrate on his side. Palms were greased a lot.

Yet, now there was a chance that all his hard work was about to be unraveled here, all because of the thick headed morons from the land beyond the borders. It was so very aggravating to the extreme.

When the news of the Barbarians invading the City Hall reached his ears, Dukakis tried to get in touch with the Magistrate via the communication crystal but to no avail. And now, his worst fears were confirmed. After this debacle, whether the man survived or not, the repercussions would be severe. For himself, and for his family.

Taking a deep breath, Dukakis looked around his office, making sure he had a firm eye contact with everyone present. Only then did he spoke, firmly and slowly.

“Gentlemen. We proceed with force. We can't bargain with these bastards. They have already taken too much from us, from this glorious city. I shall not allow it any longer. Get the men ready for an incursion!!”

~​

When Damien followed the flustered soldier to his brother's office, he didn't know what to think at first. But then, somehow, this whole incident had morphed into a god-send opportunity.

How so? Pretty simple, really.

Currently, Damien was looking at the City Hall as he crouched on the rooftop of a nearby building. He had volunteered his services for this operation, all in the hopes of getting inside the City Hall's archives. And to take a gander at the records for all those who had entered the city via Sky Arks.

Risky, for sure, but also potentially solving all his headaches in one go.

The plan was two-fold. Literally.

Two armed squads of men would enter the Hall, one team via the roof while the others via underground sewerage. For that purpose, Damien was assigned to the roof team. The building they were on happened to be taller than the Hall itself, allowing him and his group to attach a line of rope and zip-line down.

The other team had a lot less glamorous and no doubt smelly proposition, as they would utilize the underground network of sewers that were built ages ago when the city's foundation was being laid down. One of these sewer lines went under the Hall, a necessity in design since the government building, formerly of the Count's residence before converting into what it was now, possessed several bathrooms.

Each team faced their own challenges but their objectives were crystal clear – to assess the enemy's strength. To assess where they were located. To assess the level of threat they actually possessed.

And then proceed to kill or apprehend all the Barbarians in the building. Try to minimize the civilian casualties but the priority should be placed on completely neutralizing the threat posed by the foreign enemies.

Truly, easier said than done.

When Damien looked over the edge of the rooftop and at the City Hall itself, he saw one or two Barbarian warriors gazing out of the upper story windows. The Hall building was three stories high, with each floor considerably taller than what's considered the normal height. Still, Damien's roof was higher.

All in all, the angle of the infiltration was as ideal as it could get. He could see the Barbarian sentry just fine, but they could not see him. After observing for a while, Damien gave a nod to the team leader, a signal to fire a great arrow tied to a thick rope.

The City Hall's roof allowed people to climb on top of it in order to perform maintenance. Thus, there were a plenty of areas where a rope could be secured.

The first to go was Damien. Using his prosthetic arm's available strength he made to the other side in a jiffy. Then he proceeded to take down the sentry who happened to wander into the rooftop. Silently, of course.

Next, he secured the rope to make sure the rest of the team could use it as well.

The team consisted of twelve men so it took a bit of time for them to cross the gap between the buildings. It was one hell of a nerve wrecking thing to watch and wait for Damien, hoping that the Lady Luck was on their side today. And since they all carried weapons and wore armors, their speed was on the wrong side of slow.

Still, no mishap occurred. All twelve crossed safely.

Next up – to wait for the signal from the sewer team, that they have made it inside. For that purpose, a tiny, one-time use communication crystal that combusted right after its usage.

Damien didn't have to wait long before the crystal went up in smoke, the sign they were patiently waiting for. He sent one of his own to let the other team know the operation was a go.

The rooftop team entered the building through the access panel. Every time the soldiers who were not trained for these types of warfare, made a blunder by making too much noise, Damien couldn't help but swear in his heart.

Nothing he could do now – even if he wanted to get angry, just one look at the scared faces of the soldiers accompanying him cooled all his anger right away. They were not Adventurers trained to become the jack of all trades but to guard the city from the ruffians and criminal elements. Sneaking around trying to silently take down numerous targets were not on their training schedule.

Before commencing with the mission, Damien and the soldiers had taken a look at the layout of the City Hall and its various floors so he knew roughly where to go. The Magistrate's scared face was displayed on the top floor, the one Damien was on. Also, coincidentally, the floor where the Magistrate's office was located, too. Maybe, that wasn't a coincidence, but whatever.

If the Barbarians were wise, then the hostages would have been brought into a single room for a better crowd control. If they were playing it even smarter, then they would seperate one or two high value hostages in another room, not too far but not too close either.

The archers stationed across the rooftops of opposing building had estimated that the most of the hostages were indeed on the top floor, something the freed hostage, the maidservant, corroborated earlier on.

As for the Barbarians, they split up, with scores of them guarding the most obvious entry point, the front entrance while the rest guarded the hostages or went around searching for others they might have missed within the building.

The ones manning the front were the sewer team's responsibility. As for the confusion created by them, the rooftop team was going to utilize that and storm the office and rescue the Magistrate and the hostages. At least, as long as there were no unforeseen events.

Once inside, Damien was not too surprised to find the hallways dead quiet. It was probably too much to imagine the top floor bustling with activities normally since the floor was off limits to civilians anyways, but still, it was rather eerily silent.

After telling the soldiers to stay put, Damien went around stealthily and checked out each of the rooms and offices to see what's what. Most of them were empty, save for the Magistrate's and his secretary's. There were signs of people in there.

He decided to take a closer look if possible and was about to approach the Magistrate's office when the corner of his eye caught a flickering light. When he examined it closely, there was an unfamiliar object placed on one of the walls, with a small red dot that continued to blink rhythmically.

He slowly prodded it with his fingers – and it kinda felt like clay. Even the colors were similar, except for the thing with a red blinking light on it. That one was black, and it was firmer to touch.

Now that he glanced around the rooms, he spotted more of these weird contraptions. Damien was pretty sure these didn't belong with the original décor.

What reinforced that notion was some kind of unknown letters written on each of the objects' surface.

If Kain was here, he'd most likely recognize what those letters were, though. After all, they were 'C' and '4.'

Whatever they were, Damien felt a bit ominous vibe coming off them. So he wanted to check out the lower floors to make sure they were empty of people as well as these strange things, but something else ended up distracting him.

The thing was, the hostages were divided into two groups in gender. Males were in the Magistrate's office and the women were corralled in the other. What stopped Damien from moving on was that the women folk had terrible things being done to them. This made him forget all about the strange blinking red lights for now.

He had half a mind to rush in and bash in the skulls of the Barbarians, but he held back his fury. Gritting his teeth, he returned to where the soldiers were crouching, while cutting down the Barbarian sentries as quietly as possible. He knew very well that the time was not right yet.

Mercifully, that time arrived sooner rather than later.

A cacophony of noise exploded from downstairs. A signal that the sewer team has engaged the enemy.

It's time!!

Damien narrowed his eyes, the controlled anger being unleashed. Soldiers didn't need his prompt in order to spring into action – they were already moving, killing intents blazing in their eyes like the desert sun.

The Barbarians who were busy forcing themselves on the female hostages looked around in confusion and disarray by the time Damien and the soldiers rushed in. As quickly as possible, the heads rolled off the necks, arrows from the crossbows stuck in various body parts, and before the dust settled, the women were freed.

Ignoring their plight for now as their lives were no longer in danger, Damien and the soldiers rushed into the next door.

The fighting here was fiercer. Might as well, since there wasn't much to distract the Barbarians from their duties, unlike the situation in the next room.

And inevitably, casualties rose. The Barbarians took human shields, trying to buy time – something Damien couldn't afford to waste. So, he exploded with action, not caring about the consequences.

In the end, though, Magistrate was freed, largely unhurt but visibly shaken by the ordeal. A couple of hostages had died but all in all, better than expected result for the soldiers.

However, his rescue was not what Damien came here for, so he left the clean up to the soldiers and swiftly made his way down the stairs, to the ground floor where the records were being kept.

And that's where the true trouble began for him.

As soon as he arrived, something felt off about this particular floor. Sure, there was a fierce fighting happening towards where the soldiers and the Barbarians were. But that wasn't it.

He sensed other people, and at the same time, he didn't. It was as if there were extra presences here that didn't want to be detected.

Feeling rather apprehensive because of this, Damien hid behind the corner and took a peek around the edge instead of walking down the corridor. He saw that the way up ahead was clear, and moved on, as quietly as possible, towards the archives where the records were kept.

The doors, which should have been locked, were broken into. And this was where all that presences Damien felt earlier on were. He stiffened momentarily but after recovering his composure, carefully entered past the broken door.

Sure enough, Damien witnessed a group of four men busy installing those clay-like things on the walls, while whispering in a foreign language to each other. Quickly hiding in the shadows, he studied what they were doing, or for that matter, who they were.

After all, why would the Barbarians enter the records for? What were they looking for in here?

From Damien's observation, these people were in a hurry, as if something unexpected had occurred, or at least, things did not go according to the plan.

Whatever the case may be, Damien was now pretty much sure of one thing – these people were not Barbarians. Their physique was too different. For one, those Northern tribesmen were known for their huge bodies, rippling muscles and long, unkempt blond hairs. Many of them sported tribal markings on their faces, denoting which tribe they belonged to. Oh, and the most sure-fire way to tell a Barbarian apart from the citizens of Empire was the earlobes – for some reason, theirs were always longer.

And not to mention, more often than not, beards. Dirty and unshaven, shaggy beards.

But these guys? For one, their hair was trimmed very short. Their skin was well tanned. And although fit and muscular, they were not as big as the archetypal Barbarians at all, even if they were dressed to blend in. But they did have beards, so Damien was slightly stumped on that one.

There was one more thing that convinced Damien that these men were not Barbarians – almost all of them held a black cylindrical thing on their persons.

Now, he wasn't sure what those items were but, he had an inkling. A good one, in fact. If his assertions were correct, then those were the very same weapons described in Jonas's journal. Used by the Visitors.

What the hell are the Visitors doing in here, in this City Hall?!

Damien frowned, not sure of what to do. Should he wait until they were done with whatever their mission objective was? Or should he try to stop them? From what he read in that journal, it was rather plain that these people were not friends. If anything, they would try to kill him the moment he revealed himself.

The unknown factor was those weapons. Damien just couldn't tell what they could do. Were they an Invocation Tool? Were they some type of crossbows that fired darts? Or did Jonas grossly exaggerate their capabilities? He had no way to tell unless he started engaging them head on. Not ideal.

And what were those clay things for? Why were they setting them up in here too?

The longer he watched, the more ominous he felt about this whole thing. Suddenly, he wondered whether this hostage taking business was the work of these Visitors, and not the Barbarians, all just to enter the City Hall and do.... something inside.

But what?

The Visitors finally finished with their job, and began to pile out of the exit. Damien remained hidden until they were gone for good before emerging from the spot. Taking another deep breath, he decided not to worry about what they were doing for now and concentrate on his own reason for coming here.

He hurriedly searched until he found the cabinet storing the Sky Ark transit records. As expected, it had an Invocation lock placed on it. But that didn't matter – he had his prosthetic arm.

Flexing his metallic muscles, Damien gripped the cabinet's drawer and forcibly yanked at it. And voila: the spell could not endure the enormous strength exerted by the arm and snapped loose, spilling its contents like vomit.

The numerous scrolls and parchments fell out in ugly, disorganized fashion, making Damien curse out inadvertently. Now he had to sift through all this mess just to find one or two scraps of paper.

He knelt down and began to sort, grumbling inwardly. He didn't forget to keep an eye out the door just in case as well.

He remembered the dates from the journal so Damien concentrated on looking for anything around those. However, it turned out that the records kept here did not extend that far back, only going as far as two years prior.

Realizing this, he grimaced deeply but didn't give up. The last time that unidentified noble came here was less than a year ago, so something should still remain here.

He finally found a bundle of parchments from the week of the date in question. Since it was unknown how long it would take for a group of snooty noblemen to make the journey past the borders, Damien thought it prudent to start looking about three to four days prior to the noble's arrival at the construction site up North.

Unfortunately, he didn't get the chance to do just that.

Damien discovered that man's presence entering the archives a little too late. And by the time he sensed it, the two of them were facing each other.

The man raised that black cylindrical thing and pointed it at Damien. The finger hooked around the top of the “handle bar” flinched. And instinctively, Damien flinched as well, raising his prosthetic arm to protect his chest.

There was a trio of sharp but not so loud popping sounds, and he felt an incredible amount of force slam into his metal arm. He was knocked off the feet and sent crashing down on the messy pile of papers below.

He felt dizzy but sober enough to pull his butt up and take a dive behind the rows of cabinets. Just as well – as soon as he did that, more of those popping noises echoed out and the cabinets shattered into fine splinters.

Damien cursed inwardly as the numbness spread all over his right shoulder, the one connected to the arm. He quickly inspected the damage and felt a chill run down his back, seeing three clear dents that had formed on the bicep and the forearm areas.

Well, Jonas didn't exaggerate, after all!!

Damien grimaced deeply, knowing how difficult it was to damage his arm like this. Coming from the first-hand experience, obviously. Relieved to find the bundle of records still clutched in his grasp, he hastily stuffed it inside his chest armor and crouched low.

He heard the footsteps from the Visitor, so he moved from his spot, trying to flank the man with the black cylindrical weapon. Damien then heard him whisper, but to whom, he couldn't tell, never mind the contents of the whisper itself.

More importantly, though, he felt the breathing was getting tougher. When he was hit, the arm was pushed against his chest. Damien knew something had to be broken or at least really bruised in his ribcage. This situation was not getting any better at all.

Gripping his saber Frostbane tightly, Damien took a deep breath and unsheathed it with his left hand. A cold gleam shone off the blade like the pale Winter moonlight.

Hardening his expression, Damien moved and went around the cabinet quickly, leaping over the top to surprise the Visitor. The pointy end of the black weapon was then sliced apart by the ultra-sharp edge of Frostbane while he kicked the man in the chest, forcing him to take a tumble backward.

Grunting in surprise, the Visitor continued the tumble and utilized the momentum from that roll to stand right back up. He discarded the cylindrical weapon and it slung around to his back with a strap.

Then, he pulled out a black dagger with serrated edges on both sides. Rather than calling it a dagger, though, it was more akin to a short sword. That's how big it was.

Damien took his own stance and watched the Visitor look at him with feverish eyes. They were kind of eyes that a frenzied predator might have.

Silently, the two sized each other up before the Visitor made his move first by lunging forward with that dagger.

Damien blocked it with his metal arm and brought Frostbane forward in a sharp swing. The Visitor barely dodged it, the corners of his fur coat getting caught in the arc and got sliced apart.

Surprisingly, this did not deter the man and instead, he closed in fast. Damien had little time to react to that.

Again using the metal arm, he slammed against the Visitor but he was grabbed instead and had a well-practiced knee drive into his sternum.

The stinging, numbing pain shot out of his chest, but Damien forcibly suppressed it and used his strong prosthetic arm to shove the Visitor off. The shock in the man's face was writ large at this display of pure, explosive power.

Taking this chance, Damien swung Frostbane down and slashed at the hand of the Visitor holding that dagger. Blood arced gracefully in the air as the black weapon and a severed hand flew, quickly followed by the pained cry coming out of the Visitor's mouth.

Determined to finish this fight once and for all, Damien raised the sword over his head to slash down when he belatedly sensed another presence hurriedly entering the archives.

It was too late for him to dodge cleanly – the popping sounds rang out once more, this time from the second Visitor. Something pierced past Damien's shoulder armor and gouged his flesh, breaking the bone within.

Ignoring the pain, Damien ducked out of the way again, behind the cabinets all the while being showered by the explosions of splinters everywhere. He rolled on the ground, trying desperately to shield his face and other vital areas from this unprecedented assault.

“Damn it!!”

He shouted out in frustration as he crawled away towards the window.

Even though the archives were ostensibly situated on the ground floor, it didn't mean it was level with the outside ground. If anything, it was more like the second floor in height alone.

But Damien had no choice in the matter. The moment the second Visitor came around the corner and began firing again, he jumped out of the window, breaking apart the expensive glass.

He landed awkwardly and rolled on his back several times before coming to a stop. His entire body ached like hell. Blood was pouring out of his shoulder. His left leg was not responding to his commands. He couldn't even feel it at all.

But he still knew the danger wasn't over yet. He stumbled forward like a madman, trying desperately to reach the safety. Far up ahead, soldiers that were manning the perimeters, saw him and came rushing in, looking surprised but still ready to fulfill their duties regardless.

Damien quickly identified himself and raised his arms, only to feel the back-breaking pain from his hurt shoulder again. His blood still flowed out too, so even to a most idiotic layman, he was clearly wounded and needed help.

Thankfully, the Visitors did not follow him out and attack indiscriminately. Otherwise, the civilian casualties would have been terrible. In hindsight, Damien knew he made a mistake, one made instinctively in order to save his own hide. Naught he could do now other than to reflect on it.

As he was taken away for treatment, Damien watched the City Hall building, hoping that nothing bad would happen to it and the people inside.

He was taken to a tent set up as a temporary medical center and was asked to lie down on a gurney.

The Invoker in charge of healing carefully removed his blood-soaked armor; then his torn tunic. As a healing Invocation was being performed on him, Damien took a long, relieved breath. For now, his objective was achieved, more or less. Once alone, he'd take a good long look at the records and try to match the description of the noble with the transit papers.

With this wound, it was obvious he was not going anywhere anytime soon. Whether that was a blessing in disguise or not, he didn't know yet.

“What kind of wound is this? Did you get hit by an arrow? Did you pull it out?”

The Invoker in charge of healing asked Damien, his face showing a bit of confusion.

“Err, not sure,” Damien replied quickly. He didn't want to say it was a strange Invocation Tool used by a Visitor from another Realm. If he did, then most likely, rather than healing his shoulder, the Invoker might try to examine the state of his mind instead. “I think it was an Invocation of some kind. It was too fast to see.”

“Oh, is that so?”

The Invoker squinted his eyes, not looking all that convinced. Then his eyes flickered. “Don't move, sir. It might hurt a bit but try not to move too much.”

As he said, it hurt a lot. Damien nearly fainted from all that pain.

The Invoker, however, was too busy pulling out a shrapnel from Damien's wound to notice the plight of his patient.

“Huh, would you look at that?”

The Invoker showed the blood-soaked piece of tiny metal to Damien. This time, it was Damien's turn to feel shocked.

He was no idiot – he could figure out pretty quickly that the black cylindrical thing was firing the metal bits like this one at him. It was exactly like miniature cannons employed by the Imperial Army, in that it fired a metallic projectile at a blinding speed. And both the cannon and the weapon of the Visitor were cylindrical and black in color.

Couldn't be a coincidence.

As Damien grasped the metal, suddenly a huge, powerful explosion rocked everything.

Stumbling out of the chair he was sitting on, Damien rushed out to catch the moment the City Hall building crumbled into nothingness in a huge fireball.

A new chapter. Yet another short one. Dunno what's going on with me anymore....

 

Spoiler: Chapter 44

44​

A chaos. That's what it was. An utter chaos, to seemingly end all the other chaos in the universe.

The fire that raged after the collapse of the City Hall building needed the whole night to bring under control. Even then, the destructive flames didn't truly recede away, choosing to continuously burn and melt bricks and bones alike.

And as the morning Sun broke the dark horizon with its pale light, the ceaseless streams of charred and mangled bodies flowed out endlessly. Lifeless, soulless carcasses being carried out one by one from the still smoldering ruin as the grains of sand fell in the hourglass.

Damien grimly looked on from the side, a thick blanket wrapped around him to ward off the bone-chilling cold. He lost count just how many bodies were recovered so far. No survivors at all. Excluding him, that was.

All the Barbarians, all the soldiers, all the hostages – all dead, most likely.

He could hear the occasional shouts from those charged with recovery of the remains. Some were asking for additional assistance, some swearing aloud, some were offering heartfelt prayers to their chosen deities for the souls of the departed.

In the air, black ash and smoke swirled and danced with the wind, slowly choking all the unfortunate souls working hard below as they toiled away, fighting the horrors of the reality and all that nausea rising from within.

The Sun's rays soon overtook the lit torches as the source of illumination. Yet, no cheers could be heard. If anything, brighter light only served to starkly illustrate the ultimate carnage brought upon the scenery around the plot of land where the City Hall used to stand.

The building itself was gone, with only the foundation remaining. Surrounding buildings that were too close also collapsed, either trapping or killing all its occupants outright.

Streets that were once pristine and perfectly laid out were now pockmarked and ruined. Puddles were forming within those holes, remnants of the moisture that iced up during the night now defrosting under the sunlight.

Damien slowly rubbed his shoulders; the healing Invocation had made sure the wounds he received from the Visitors were more or less all patched up. But he still felt the chills permeating into his bones whenever the winds blew.

He sighed softly. So many people have died. No one could tell why that was so. No one here could provide any solid explanations how this tragedy occurred. No one was brave, or perhaps, foolish enough, to offer up any theories yet. Obviously, too early for that. The time for the vocal ones to rise up with the voice of discontent would be sooner rather than later, though.

But whatever the case may be, things would never be the same from now on. For the Lucius Lomax family and for the city, mostly. And perhaps, with how the Empire interacted with the various Barbarian tribes beyond the borders.

The military advisers had made their way from the Count's mansion and were directing the relief efforts, for whatever worth they were at this point. Dukakis, on the other hand, was not around, having left the scene with his eyes totally bloodshot and crazed. It was plain to see that he was under an enormous pressure at the moment.

Even Damien wanted to leave, in all honesty. What good could he possibly do here? If anything, he was a hindrance, nothing more, in his current condition.

But to his chagrin, he found himself unwilling to leave. He simply couldn't walk away from this place just yet. As the morning dew settled on his hair, he stood there like a scarecrow as the throngs of people moved around him, avoiding him like the raging currents of the floodwater going around a boulder.

In his head, he was replaying everything that had happened inside the City Hall. Nothing seemed amiss – apart from the thing with those Visitor bastards, that was.

He had no basis for the one wild theory buzzing in his head. But he knew. He just knew deep in his bones, that this, all of this chaos, the destruction, the loss of many lives, was the handiwork of the Visitors.

It all fit quite well. There was just no way a Barbarian was capable of an Invocation that powerful. No way. Never mind the fact that he would never choose to blow himself and his comrades up just because things turned a bit unfavorable for them.

But the Visitors, on the other hand, were capable. No, whether they could wield Aeterna or not was unknown at this point in time, but those miniaturized cannons were a proof enough to convince Damien that they were capable of pulling off something of this magnitude.

But why? Why would they enter a city full of regular, unaware folks to blow up a government building for?

That's why Damien continued to replay the scene inside his head over and over again, hoping for an answer to present itself. He wanted to understand their motivations for committing this atrocity. But nothing useful came to his mind.

And how could he be so sure it was the Visitors that did this in the first place? He could be wrong about his assumption after all.

Sure, he found the lot of them installing those strange clay brick things inside the archives, but he found those things all over the building's interior so it was not specific that particular room was being targetted. It could mean they finished setting those things in the rest of the building and the archives were the last place to receive their attention.

Damien grimaced, knowing how confused he felt right now. The longer he stood there and contemplate, the less certain everything seemed to him.

Then, the sketch of that noble from the Capital suddenly popped back in his mind. How strong was the possibility of that the man somehow also involved in this attack? Like, the way he was negotiating with the Visitors to instigate a civil war.

Damn it. I just don't know!! I can't think straight. Not like this.

His head was chaotic. The smell of burning corpses and materials were clogging up his mind. This wasn't the first time for him to stand so intimately close to the charred bodies but no matter what, the sights of blackened flesh, missing limbs, and their hollow eye sockets, jaws wide open in terror never became easier to look at.

He really wanted to breathe in deeply, but could not. He just ended up feeling dizzy instead. Was it because of the blood loss? He wasn't sure. It was not like this was the first time him experiencing a life or death fight, where he lost a bit of blood.

No, it was something else. Something more psychological than physical. He was the kind of a man who could get over losing his arm. He had already gotten over losing his friends. Didn't mean he forgot about them, but simply that he had finished grieving over them and have moved on because that was what they would have wanted from him.

As an Adventurer, he had to develop a thick skin that allowed him to get over the various traumas that would come with his line of work.

In truth, he wasn't like that. When Gordie and his men died in that Sacred Acre, it hit him hard. It was personal. And when his son was taken away from him, that was even more personal. That broke him, although he had successfully hidden that fact from everyone. Including himself.

But now.... he felt like he could taste his own fear. His own fear of mortality. In other words, he didn't want to die just yet. He had so much to do. Like, for instance, getting his revenge against The Children.

Yet, why was he so damn bothered about this matter regarding Jonas's journal and the Visitors and this city and everything else unrelated to his vengeance? Why couldn't he get over this and move on?

Was it because he virtually hadn't made any headway with the Children, after all? That he failed to even meet anyone from West & Brooks?

Was it because he was angry? At the Visitors?

Frowning, he looked around to see if, just if, the rescuers could find any evidence of those Visitor bastards getting buried under the rubble alongside the other victims but alas, it seemed that was nothing more than just his unlikely hope.

Did they survive? No, did they somehow escape before the explosion? But how?

It was too early to tell. Not all of the bodies were recovered yet. Not all of the evidence was found. He didn't hold high hopes, though. Not anymore, anyways.

Thinking this and that, Damien felt a bit dizzy again. No matter how sturdy his body was, at the end of day, he was still just a human being. He was wounded pretty badly and did lose quite a bit of blood after all. And no matter how good the healing Invocations were, they could not replace the vital lost fluids. He definitely needed a good, long rest.

But could he, though?

He went back inside a large, drab green tent that was substituting as a makeshift infirmary. His things were temporarily placed there while he was recovering overnight.

It was time to leave for him to leave and speak to Dukakis, let him know just what the hell was going on in his own backyard. Even if he wasn't sure of himself, how he felt and why he felt that way, at least he felt certain about this one thing.

Damien wanted to get out all of these secrets bubbling in his heart. Share it with someone else, regardless of the burden that might place on the other party. That could maybe help him find some clarity and of a way forward. Just maybe.

The inside of the tent was also equally as chaotic as the outside. The blast caused numerous fatalities and injuries to those near the perimeters set up by the soldiers. Curious onlookers and soldiers themselves bore the brunt of the shock wave and scores were killed or hurt to varying degrees. Burns, burst eardrums, ruptured organs, dislocated joints and broken bones – the all sorts. Add the collapsed neighboring buildings and the people pulled out from those on top of that....

The scene inside the tent reminded Damien of an aftermath of a war zone. Like that time all those years ago when the group of Adventurers tried to confront an Awakened Gray Strife-Wolf and its massive, hungry pack.

That certainly was another bad memory to be reminded of, so he lowered his head and simply grabbed his gear. Not even looking back, he left.

His current destination? To the Count's residence.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins, which kept him going throughout the night, began to dry up as his feet led him away from all that deathly smell.

His feet steadily grew leaden. Heavy. Difficult to move.

Damien acutely felt his own weakness as a human. His body, lacking a quantity of blood, definitely needed a rest, not another tough trek in a cold weather towards a far off distance. But he pushed himself. His mind was screaming to make it. He kept on telling himself that he could rest at the mansion once he got there.

More than once, he had to lean against a wall, a fence, a lamp post, whatever, to stay upright and to take a breather.

Passersby shot him a weird, suspicious glance; Damien couldn't blame them. His armor was damaged. It had holes here and there. And then, there was dried blood, caked all over. On top of all this, he was pale, panting heavily, walking warily, covered in soot and mud. Who wouldn't look at him with wary eyes? No one, that's what.

Yet none approached him nor tried to stop him. As a matter of fact, people, even the hardened residents of the city avoided getting in his way. The reason was simple – his eyes. Damien's eyes were brimming with intense ferocity, with madness, with the kind of unbridled, unstoppable determination only seen on a man driven to achieve his goals regardless of the obstacles in his path. He himself wasn't aware of the light. No, he was doing his best to make it there, to his destination, and say his piece.

That's all that mattered to him.

Damien doggedly walked. He didn't care that his energy had run dangerously low. He didn't care about his heavy eyelids trying to close by themselves. He didn't even care about the guards stationed in front of the Count's mansion who were trying to block his way.

If it weren't for the timely intervention by Cassius, there could have been trouble. For the guards, that was.

“Young master, what happened to you?! Are you injured? I shall immediately call for help!!”

Cassius sounded panicky. He roused himself early this morning after not getting a good night of sleep. He too had heard the news of the City Hall's destruction and the countless deaths of all those inside.

He also heard that Damien had made out of the carnage relatively unscathed so the current appearance of the “young master” greatly shocked the old butler. He simply didn't expect it to be this severe.

Waving his hand casually, or at least he tried to, Damien spoke with a false swagger in his voice. As if to convince all in front of him he was perfectly okay.

“I'm more or less fine. Cassius, take me to Dukakis. I need to speak to him right this instant. If he's asleep, then wake him up. If he's having a breakfast, interrupt him. If he's taking a dump, then hand him over a wipe quickly. This matter can not wait any longer.”

Cassius looked flustered at first then his expression changed into uncertainty. The old butler couldn't really understand this strange aura rising from Damien. It was something a man on a brink might exude.

“Master Dukakis is currently engaged in discussion with Master Caleb and it might be difficult to earn an audience with him at the moment. Why don't we enter the premise and I serve you with breakfast, young master? I'm sure you hadn't had the opportunity to grab a bite as yet.”

Damien was about to open his mouth to say no, but his stomach went growling first. His initiative was now lost and no matter how much he might refute it, it would be difficult to be taken seriously now. Reluctantly, Damien went along with the suggestion.

He followed Cassius in but even before he could get past the foyer, he was greeted by the sound of loud yelling and something smashing against a wall, shattering into million pieces.

Damien immediately identified his father's and Dukakis's voices. It looked like they were verbally assaulting one another.

The contents of the spat were obscured by the walls so he couldn't hear them exactly but as a person with a working brain, figuring that out wasn't all that difficult.

Damien sighed and told Cassius. “Looks like that breakfast may have to wait a little while longer.”

Cassius wanted to stop him. The old butler did not wish to see Damien jump into the fray and cause an ever bigger bitterness and resentment by saying certain things.

But he was too slow. He simply could not stop Damien who was moving on the strength of the determination alone. Nothing short of physically restraining him would work at this point.

The room where the sound of fighting originated from was Dukakis's office. The door was slightly ajar and there were a handful of concerned servants eavesdropping nearby.

Damien knew the fighting must have started not too long ago. Maybe his father, Caleb, woke up recently and heard about the City Hall's destruction. Maybe he fell off the bed this morning and decided he needed to vent out or something similar.

Whatever, it didn't matter. Right now, Damien had to tell the two of them the truth. He had to let them understand there were things happening right now. Things that impacted the future of his family, this city, the people living in it and most likely, the whole of the Empire. Their squabble seemed so petty and unimportant to him when he looked at the bigger picture.

The servants stole glances at him. They all looked worried. Some of them looked tired, probably from worrying too much. Most of them looked scared as well – scared that they might lose their only livelihoods.

If they were let go because of the change in the lordship, then where would they find work to feed their own families in the meantime? Sure, they could potentially gain new employment with the new lord. Or find it with other nobles living in the city. But it was not guaranteed. Nothing was. No one could afford to give them such assurance of mind in this climate of uncertainty.

Damien brushed past them and entered the noisy office. It was clammy and heated inside – but not because there were a hearth and a fire, but the temperature spike caused by the flaring anger of both men present within it.

There was no one else present other than Count Caleb and Dukakis in the office. The two of them was staring daggers at each other, veins visibly pulsating on their foreheads.

They didn't notice Damien intruding upon them. Too busy for that.

“Useless!! I let you run things just for a little while, and you turn it into such a mess!! How incompetent can you be?!” Caleb shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth.

“How dare you, father?! You call me incompetent? While your head was filled with pointless pursuits of martial path, I have been steadily building the wealth of this city!! We have achieved the level of prosperity never seen before during your reigns, and yet you call me incompetent? How dare you!!”

Dukakis didn't wither away like usual and was fighting back.

“Yes, I am calling you exactly that, an incompetent!! You let the enemy invade your own home, and you let the said enemy destroy and maim symbols of the Empire, and subvert the proud values of our nation you swore to uphold!! And just how many people lost their lives? Hmm?”

Caleb didn't let up. His voice became hoarser as he screamed at his eldest son.

“And how is that my fault? The Barbarians started the war by themselves. We, no, I, did everything to stop them. And when I did, their attacks decreased gradually. I was bringing back the order and peace back into the streets!! Oh, wait – I see what this is. This is about you getting poisoned, isn't it? You're blaming me for your mistake!!”

Dukakis sneered as he spoke the last line.

It was at this point both noticed Damien standing there, looking at them with a tired expression.

Caleb was about to launch a tirade towards his other son before noticing all the grime and mud on his face. Then he spotted Damien holding the leather cuirass that was full of nicks and scratches, a tell-tale sign of its wearer going through a hard battle. Not to mention, dried blood on the armor itself. All of those were enough clues to form a narrative in his mind.

With a face full of contempt, he turned towards Dukakis and growled.

“It seems that your younger brother, a lord of another town no less, is more proactive in attending to the incidents occurring within your city. While you cower away hidden behind in the safety of this mansion's walls, he was out there, getting blood on his hands. You should be ashamed, Dukakis. You lack the qualifications to lead this city. Any city.”

Dukakis took in a deep breath, his eyes bloodshot. “How can I being there help the situation?! I'm a lord, not a bloody Adventurer!! There is literally nothing I can do on the site!!”

Caleb's sneer became even deeper. “Who cares what you can do or can't? As a leader, you should have been there, remain there, talking and more crucially, leading the people. Yet you failed even that.”

“I WAS there!!” Dukakis exploded. His anger was seething like an erupting volcano. “I was there, directing the rescue efforts!! But there was nothing else left for me to do, so I returned to attend to other matters!! You, you who don't even know the full story, just keep your mouth shut and disappear from my sights!! Go back to your bloody room and just stay in there!!”

Dukakis raised his fist, about to strike out at his father. Yet, his angry attack never reached the sneering face of Caleb, stopping mere inches away. It was trembling. His whole body was trembling in rage yet he could not make that short gap to lash out against his target.

Caleb's eyes goaded his eldest son, daring him to lash out if he could. Seeing this, Dukakis's eyes became larger. New strength flowed in his limbs and he now found it possible to move.

But before that, Damien quickly moved in and grabbed his brother's arm, thereby stopping something unpleasant from happening right in front of him.

“No, Dukakis. Wait. Cool your head. He's not worth it.”

An uncomfortable silence descended on the office like a veil of fog. Only the rough breathing coming from Dukakis echoed.

Once he was sure of his brother calming down, Damien let the arm go and proceeded to firmly close the door to the office. He too took a deep breath to calm himself down before turning around to face both men.

“There are a couple of matters I've been keeping to myself until now. One of them, a secret I brought with me to Marlborough. The other, dumped on me during my stay here. Both matters.... I need to tell you what they are. Right now.”

“Can it not wait?” Dukakis glanced at his brother, before slumping down in his chair. “I need some time to reorganize. And sort out all the reports. Then, maybe I will have a leeway to listen to you.”

Damien sighed and shook his head. “I can't wait.”

Caleb bent down to pick up a chair that was knocked down during the argument with his son and sat down on it, grunting out as he did so. After he settled down, he looked at Damien with those critical eyes. “What say you? What sort of matters you find unbearable to keep any longer, wishing to infect me with it?”

“First, the matter with my deceased son,” said Damien. He started by telling them everything. He began with how his daughter, Kaleena, was attacked many many years ago by an assassin. Then how Kain was lost on his way to another town.

His deal with a Special Bureau agent named Dawson came up next, although Damien didn't mention the matter with the strange wooden board and Lady Valette. Then, his meeting with Mikael the information broker.

And finally, the matter about The Children and this shadowy organization's connection to the merchant group West & Brooks.

“That's why I came to the city. To track the members of The Children. To exact my vengeance.”

When he was done, both Dukakis and Caleb were frowning deeply. They were nearly speechless as well. It took nearly a minute before Dukakis found his voice.

“Can.... can this broker be trusted? Forgive me but he sounds shadier than a shade of a tree.”

“He's a shady character, alright. But his information is as reliable as an Exchequer official.”

Hearing his brother's firm voice, Dukakis took another deep breath. It was very discomforting listening to a grave accusation leveled against one of the most trusted friends to his city.

“That's the original matter. Fine. Then, what's the second?”

Caleb asked, his voice cold, almost distant. Clearly, he was not amused by what he has heard just now.

Damien glanced at his father's face for a second, trying to read the unreadable expression on it. Half giving up, he then pulled out a worn journal and a pile of crumpled parchments out from his bag of holding.

“This journal was written by a man who was present at the time when I recovered the Aerinite Ore from a Sacred Acre. His name is Jonas Bremble, an Associate Noble from Argos. I want you to read its contents.”

Damien lightly tossed the journal over at Dukakis. Frowning and also confused, he caught the book but didn't open it immediately, instead choosing to examine its covers.

“What is this? Can't you just tell me what's in this book that is so important?”

“Turn to the folded pages. Read those,” said Damien as he began to urgently browse through the parchments in his hands.

Dukakis read those pages. And as he did, the complexion on his face changed. And by the time he read the last page, his face became very dark.

Caleb, who was silently observing his sons, stood up and grabbed the journal, prying it out of Dukakis's hands. He too began reading the contents, only to furrow his brows in a rare display of shock.

Meanwhile, Damien quickly went through the transit records, trying to place a name with the face of the noble described in Jonas's journal. He had no luck so far.

“That is all lies, isn't it? Yes, it has to be. Is this journal trying to implicate that the situation in my city is related to the Queen's faction and these.... these people called the Visitors?! What nonsense is this? But my adjutant.... No, it can't be the truth.”

Damien looked up and saw the disbelieving face of his brother. There were despair and unwillingness to accept reflected on Dukakis's face. Feeling pity for his brother, Damien sighed.

“Not lies. Well, most likely not. Because.... because when I entered the City Hall to get these records, I fought against the Visitors. Damn nearly killed me, too.”

This time, even Caleb had to gasp in more shock. Damien failed to notice that, though.

“What records are you talking about? What are you searching for now?!”

Dukakis asked, exasperated, at Damien after finally seeing the messy bundle of parchments strewn about his desk that wasn't there originally.

“These are transit records. I went and volunteered my services to you because I wanted an access to the archives to find them without needing to answer any awkward questions beforehand. The only way to find out which noble it was. No doubt he came in via the Sky Ark. No doubt, he had to get his travel papers issued. No doubt, those activities left behind traces for me to grasp. And no doubt, they are here. I just need to find the evidence.”

Another long bout of silence followed in the office after Damien breathlessly explained himself. Seeing the dazed face of his brother, he remembered something else and quickly added this.

“Oh, and quite likely, someone in this house has been deceiving you, Dukakis. You haven't heard any word regarding a high ranking noble entering the city recently, have you?”

To this question, Dukakis could only nod blankly.

Caleb narrowed his eyes as he closed the journal, tossing it back on top of the desk. He loudly coughed, before wiping away his mouth with a handkerchief. Even though he looked frail now, there was a spark of fire, a different one from before burning in his eyes.

“Damien. I am assuming that it was the Visitors who caused that explosion in the City Hall?” Caleb asked, barely hiding the venom in his voice.

“It's a strong possibility,” replied Damien. “They seemed to possess the tools to pull it off. I remained on site to see if any of the Visitors were pulled out of the rubble but.... honestly, I think they all escaped somehow.”

“So.... it seems that this crisis, in part, was engineered by the Visitors and this Capital-bred son of a dog. And hoping to incite a civil war? On my watch?”

There was indignation now present in Caleb's words. The lit fire licked menacingly in his eyes as if someone poured oil in it.

“Well, nothing has been confirmed, not even the involvement of the Visitors.” Damien pointed out quickly. “We can't simply jump to conclusions yet without more conclusive evidence.”

Dukakis watched his younger brother and his father converse as if it was a matter of fact, something that happened every day between them – as if they were very close. To him, it was truly a bizarre scene to bear witness to.

His head was already knee-deep in turmoil. And now, with these revelations, his thoughts were mired in a bigger quagmire of helplessness.

He literally didn't know what to do.

He wished there was someone to tell him which directions to take in order to bring back the order and sanity to his world. Didn't matter if that was his knucklehead sister Donatella, or someone from the company West & Brooks, as long as he or she was someone other than his terrible father, or a brother who could only bring unwanted news.

And as his head crazily tried to free itself from the despair clouding him, Damien slowly lifted out one parchment among the bundle, his eyes shining brightly.

“Gotcha.”

Dukakis couldn't see the elated look on Damien's face. In fact, he had shut the world out while thinking about the future – his future.

In it, Dukakis was stuck in an endless bleakness, an abyss where escape was impossible. He felt dispirited. Weak. All he had built up, now all gone. Even if Caleb declared him as his successor, that would no longer matter. It was most certain that he'd be stripped of his peerage, of his post, of his current life.

He was going to lose everything. So how can he feel anything towards, well, anything?

“This must be the man,” said Damien as he placed the parchment on the desk, pointing out at the name recorded on it. “It has to be. This man here is a high ranking noble. You must have known if someone this important was coming to your city, Dukakis.”

His eyes blank, Dukakis glanced over at the name on the paper.

Slowly, he began to regain some of the lost vigors. He gripped the parchment and reread the name.

A maddening idea suddenly, inexplicably formed in his mind. An idea that was crazy, bold and potentially deadly, yet a lifeline nevertheless. Again, it was nothing more than an idea but, if it could be pulled off, Dukakis knew that he'd survive. And live.

“Damien, what are your plans from now on? I'll do what I can about finding out what West & Brooks is truly up to. But besides that, what are you going to do now?” Dukakis asked, intensity returning to his face.

Damien felt reassured, seeing this face of his brother. Now he looked like a proper leader of a large territory. He looked like a man.

Nodding, he spoke. “I plan to head up North. I'm planning to find this place mentioned in the journal and confirm, once and for all, about the involvements of the Visitors. And if that special weaponized Sky Ark is still being built there, then find it too. No better proof than those, I think. And finally, take those findings to Argos.”

Caleb demanded to see the parchment as well, perusing its written contents while listening to his sons. His expression was cold but the fire inside his eyes continued to burn. He was now trying to connect the dots in his mind.

He was poisoned right after the breakout of a tribal war between the Lepudia and Tigris. Which, according to the journal, was more than likely incited by the Visitors. Then there was this noble, making a deal with these otherworldly bastards to usurp the throne. This noble slipping in and out of the city without alerting him or his son was a slap to his face.

An alarming slap too, since there was someone close by that was acting against him and his family.

Caleb softly muttered to himself. “Just how deep do the tentacles of betrayal extend to in this house?”

Both Dukakis and Damien overheard it. They looked at their father, various emotions flashing by.

It was likely that the person or persons responsible for hiding the noble and his group was also responsible for the poisoning as well.

It was literally the case of constantly watching one's back all the time. No one could be trusted. Not even the most trusted friends and advisers.

Damien smiled bitterly, realizing that for a famous and strong family, Lucius Lomax bloodline was being besieged on all fronts with enemies seemingly at every turn, waiting to ambush them at any given moment.

What a crappy feeling.

Damien mused silently to no one in particular but to himself.

I'm going to post two chapters in one go next time. Unfortunately, I'll end up overshooting past the self-imposed deadline, though. My bad!!

 

Spoiler: Chapter 45

45​

The day started off the same as it had been for the last handful of months for Lizbeth and her girls.

They woke up early in the morning, had their brief exercise, washed up, got dressed in their uniforms then ate the balanced and healthy breakfast, before leaving for the school.

The only difference was that this morning, Lizbeth didn't feel so good. Morning sickness had descended with a full force and laid her flat. Normally, she'd try to brave it and accompany the girls to school but on this particular day, she felt really bad, really weak.

It kinda felt like all of her energy was being siphoned out by a specter or some such. It wasn't a nice feeling at all.

So, against her better judgment, she decided to stay at home today. Rosy went with the girls, quietly shadowed by the competent bodyguards of Count Martinus Beaufoy Trentham the Fourth not too far behind them.

Even with all this extra layer of protection, she still felt slightly anxious at this arrangement.

Ironically, it was because of the lengthy inactivity of the Children of The Amber members. If they had moved, showed some signs of threat or something, at least she'd know and take precautions. But with them not doing a thing, the uneasiness in her heart only festered into a full-on bleeding wound.

Anyways, she decided to put her feet up and rest. She took a comfy seat on the living room's couch with a cup of fine tea.

Savoring the taste, she perused all that happened so far in this crazy year and a bit.

Everything began with Kain. With him taken from her. Then, she had to leave her home of nearly a decade behind. Then her husband went off on a personal vendetta, not even bothering to call on her or inform her just what had happened to him.

And then, there were the two girls. Kaleena's academic performance was less than stellar.

Rather embarrassingly, however.... Just because she was born with a natural gift of having a multiple Affinity, it didn't mean Kaleena was smarter than other kids her age. If anything, the opposite proved to be true – her daughter was a blockhead. She'd forget the simplest things the moment she turned around. It was quite infuriating, to be honest. However, she was improving gradually. Via learning through actual, physical activities, not through books and lectures.

On the other hand, though....

Katrina was the star pupil of the school. She swept all and sundry before her with the insatiable desire to learn and better herself. To a point where it was hard to tell whether she was still a child or not. Some said she was driven.

Whether that was a good thing for a child her age remained to be seen but at least she was doing great which caused a good deal of pride for Derrick back in Riverfield.

Lizbeth sighed and chuckled softly. Remembering how not worried her daughter was at not being the top of her class, taking everything in her strides, she thought that Kaleena was more like her father than her. That was slightly disappointing to her but not to the extent that she'd throw a fit over it.

She erased the rueful smile upon hearing a rustle of footsteps. A maidservant appeared, carrying a letter.

“My lady, this came in the mail earlier this morning. It's from Master Michelle.”

“Thank you,” replied Lizbeth, briefly nodding her head.

Her teacher had gone to the city of Lafayette to research the biological samples of the two Divinity class beings recovered at the site. That was several weeks ago. Her correspondences were frequent enough to alleviate any worries Lizbeth might have towards her teacher's health and they contained a good amount of info to keep her entertained as well.

“Master also sent this to you,” said the maid as she left a small wooden box the size of a carry bag.

Lizbeth examined it for a second, unable to recognize it. She then broke the wax seal open and read the letter.

“Dear Lizbeth. How are you feeling? The morning sickness must have gotten serious now. Remember to take the concoction I left behind to alleviate the symptoms.

The analysis of the samples of the Divinity class beings is going painfully slow. I have no idea when I can come home. At this rate, maybe only at the end of the year.

Lafayette is still as ravaged as is. There are plenty of reconstruction work being done but if I'm honest, there is still a very long way to go before the life here normalizes.

Oh, and I do hope that boy Count is keeping his hands to himself – he can be a bit frisky fellow, that one.

By the way, remember the acquaintance I mentioned to you before? He gave me a special medicinal mixture. Let Kaleena take it – it might retard the process of her losing the eyesight to see the Aeterna flow. I personally verified the ingredients and they have a high chance of success. Give a single dose every seven days, before she goes to bed.

Let me know if anything changes.

With Love, Michelle.”

Lizbeth opened the wooden box and gazed at the dozen reddish pink pills the size of a lozenge. It looked like a candy, even.

“Well, at least Kaleena won't mind eating this,” murmured Lizbeth before closing the lid shut.

As she took another sip of the tea, yet another intrusion occurred and interrupted her quiet time.

“My lady, an Adventurer has come with a letter from your husband, Baron Lomax,” said the maidservant.

Lizbeth was stunned to hear this news but composed herself quickly enough. She permitted the maidservant to bring the man inside.

The Adventurer was shown in. He looked scruffy and young. Inexperienced. In other words, a low ranked, the type that was always used as messengers.

Lizbeth frowned a little. Damien sent a messenger? After all this time?

She was slightly ticked off but getting angry at a messenger was uncouth behavior so she held back and simply received the letter.

After giving the young Adventurer some extra coin, she settled her mind and cracked open the wax seal on the letter.

The contents of it were rather shocking, to say the least.

She was already aware of the destruction of the Marlborough City Hall. It was a big news down here in the Capital, after all, and by that extent, the ideal gossipping material for the mothers of the kids attending the schools in the Academy.

But what Damien wrote in the letter was incredibly worrying. This thing about a possible civil war, the acts of aggression of the Barbarians, and the involvement of the Visitors – she had a difficult time wrapping her head around it all.

What made her especially worried even more was the fact that Damien wrote this at the end of the letter:

“By the time you read this letter, I'll be across the border. I'm planning to set off with a small group of Adventurers with a clear set of grudges up North to track down the Sky Ark construction site as well as the place where the Visitors enter our realm.

I'll do my best to return before our baby's born, I promise.

Dear goddess, I miss you, babe. Again, I'm sorry for being an ass and not sending a letter until now. Forgive me, please. When I get back, I will receive every punishment you have lined up for me without complaining.

Wait for me. I will return to your side without fail.”

Lizbeth nearly fell off the couch. Her breath was ragged, harried. How could she remain calm, after reading this? All she thought about in this moment was how foolish his actions were. And how irresponsible they were as well.

She placed a palm over her heart, trying to still her erratic breathing. It wasn't working. Combined with the weakness she was feeling due to the morning sickness, the strain on her body began to take the toll on her.

Before she could call for help, she faltered and fell.

The last thing she saw between the heavy eyelids were the face of the maidservant full of panic. Lizbeth's consciousness was slowly swallowed up in the darkness, and a figure of an imaginary demon appeared in her mind, devouring the smiling face of her husband.

All she could say at that moment was....

No, don't go.

~​

Whenever Damien blew at his hands trying to warm them up, the mist coming out of his mouth turned crystalline like a fog of ice.

He grimaced. It was too early in the year for it to be this cold. He may not have lived in this parts of the world for the last decade or so, but that didn't mean he forgot all about the climates of this land. Even the accompanying Adventurers thought the Winter was descending far too early this year.

A unwelcoming cold snap was surely heading towards the city of Marlborough in the near future.

Damien and six other seasoned veterans were moving along the ridges of the Northern Mountains, past the snowy peaks and dark, foreboding forests with sharp trees, and into the rocky cliffs of the nameless landscapes.

It had been a week since they had set off. Damien glanced at the men following him, noting their toughened expressions and demeanors.

All these men lost someone recently. Family members, loved ones, whoever. They all had a score of sorts to settle with the ones responsible. And thanks to Damien's careful wording during the recruitment process, these men now had a clear target to direct their anger at – the Visitors.

The preparation for the expedition up North took more than a week, giving Damien a chance to recover from the physical and mental exhaustion.

He didn't simply dawdle during this time, though – he fervently studied the available map, planning the route he would take with a religious zeal. He also went around recruiting Adventurers for the trip, with the finances allocated by none other than Count Caleb himself.

And these Adventurers were a bit special; all of them lost someone important during the Barbarians' assault on the city or when the City Hall exploded. It took a fair bit of doing, but Damien was able to convince them the real culprits were the Visitors and the nobleman from the Capital pulling the strings. Jonas's journal and its testimony of a dead man, as well as his own status, helped in that regard as well.

Dukakis, in the meantime, redoubled his efforts to bring order to the city while putting out the flames of ire coming from the Capital Argos. That was to be expected – the Magistrate and a whole lot of people were killed, after all. And the acting lord of the territory was caught downplaying the severity of the Barbarian situation, under reporting it to the central government for months.

He had his hands full, hoping to buy some time for Damien to start the expedition which was being organized in secret. Dukakis was literally calling someone important every single day in his office via the communication crystals. He was so occupied that he barely got a wink of sleep during the week.

Damien was also busy during this period. Not as stressful, mind you, but intense enough to nearly forget all about his own wife back in Argos, heavily pregnant with his third child while looking after his daughter and the niece.

If it wasn't for Cassius reminding Damien of his duties as a father and a husband, he might have gone on the journey without letting his wife know of it.

So, rather hastily, Damien tried to borrow a communication crystal to talk to Lizbeth but.... that idea was rejected just as quickly. Dukakis needed it more. And even though there were supposedly other crystals for a long distance communication, using one for himself was out of the question.

The most obvious one was destroyed along with the City Hall. There were others held by the wealthier merchants but nothing short of being ordered to, they were all going to charge exorbitant sums for a briefest of brief time operating it. That was not going to work for someone with money issues like Damien. And he wasn't willing to ask for some from his family when he was already getting a lot of help from them as was.

In the end, he could only rely on writing a sealed letter and to hire an Adventurer to safely deliver it.

As he stared at the gray clouds that seemed much closer than before, he wondered whether his carefully worded letter got to its destination unsullied. He had to believe in the young Adventurer, after all.

The thing was, though....

While he was finishing it, he couldn't help but quietly shed a drop of tear or two. The smiling faces of his family constantly popped up in his eyes, blocking his view and kept on asking him whether this road was the right one to take.

It was difficult to write that letter. He really missed his girls. He missed waking up in the morning next to Lizbeth, missed embracing Kaleena and ruffling her hair and complementing all the progress she had made. He even missed Rosy and her.... ample charms. And not to mention, Derrick and his uptight face, Katrina and her cute attempt at imitating her father, Delilah and her delicious cooking, the endless wheat fields of Riverfield....

“How far are we from our destination?”

One of the Adventurers, a big dude named Feisty – probably not his real name – asked Damien, breaking up his nostalgia-filled daydream. The big man had silently stepped closer to Damien as they took a short break over the crest of a mountain range.

Breaking out of the stupor, Damien pointed over at the huge, foreboding slope a league away, visible to the weary but determined eyes of the group.

“Past there, according to the map. Get some rest, Feisty. Who knows what matter of nasties is waiting for us over yonder? Conserve your strength.”

Feisty nodded grimly. His eyes flickered with terrible killing intent. This man lost his entire family when the City Hall exploded – he was renting a room in a nearby building that collapsed from the shock wave. His wife and two young children were home on that faithful day.

Suffice to say, he had to dig three graves later that week.

He wasn't the only one angry. The rest of the Adventurers were itching to get some action under their belt. They all lost someone, after all.

Looking and studying the hardened faces of these men, Damien swore in his heart that once this matter was put to bed, he would definitely go and see his family. And tightly embrace each and every one of them. Take a good, long holiday with them.

He firmed his resolve and nodded at the men. “If you're rested enough, then let us move.”

The men didn't hesitate nor did they raise a voice of resistance. They moved in unison, like a well-oiled machine on their way to slay the proverbial dragon.

The weather was playing ball as well. Besides the aforementioned clouds, the sky was on the clear side with no sudden snowfall expected.

To the West, the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon. The group had maybe less than three hours to go over the crest and confirm, once and for all, what was beyond there.

Even if the night fell, the men would not suffer too greatly as they were all experienced in that regard as well. Yes, it was definitely not recommended that one operate in the middle of the darkness surrounded by the frigid conditions but all of them were accustomed to the extreme already so it wasn't as big an issue as it might seem from the outside.

Undeterred, the group soldiered on, leaving behind the continuous lines of shallow footmarks. And as they got closer to the slope in question, the sky overhead dimmed. The mountains obscured the sunlight and brought the night quicker than it should have been.

However, to everyone's tightening gut reaction, the world before them, past the blind crest, was as bright as the daylight. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something major was afoot over there.

Their suspicions were confirmed soon enough.

As the group squatted down behind some snow-covered rocky formation, they had a great, unobstructed view towards the valley below. The area was huge; enough to relocate an entire settlement of Marlborough and still have space left over for a handful of its surrounding villages.

That wasn't the most bizarre thing, though. No, that honor belonged to a series of massive light sources that stood tall and shone incredibly bright with the kind of rays that didn't lose out to the sun.

They were so bright, in fact, it was hard to see past the glare and confirm what was happening down in the valley without getting closer. Still, the general gist of the matter could be grasped – there were a couple of huge, black shapes that were unmistakably a pair of Sky Arks.

One of them seemed near completion, while the other, only about half of the way, what with all the exposed skeletal frames and stuff on display.

Alongside the massive structures, they saw what looked like giant warehouses; tiny specks of people slowly milling about around them. Again, too far for Damien's group to check out the identity of those people.

The group quietly studied the dockyard for a dozen breaths of time before moving on. This place wasn't ultimately their destination but rather, a side attraction, so to speak.

“Let's come back here later,” whispered Damien to his men.

The group left the spot and headed further Northwards.

The darkness had fully descended on them now. The bright lights of the dockyard behind them could not dispel this gloomy night. The only saving grace was that the weather was still playing nicely, which was good for cutting down on their traveling time.

They climbed up the mountain side until encountering a rocky ravine. Here, all of them softened their footsteps, extra mindful of making any unnecessary noise.

The loose gravel on the ground, coupled with the thick blanket of snow made the traversal of the terrain harder than expected, especially since they were trying to remain as quiet as possible, which was ironic in its own way.

The wind seemed to rise up as they moved in deeper into the ravine. The sharp and pointy rocks here possessed some unearthly, sinister gray color as if they were tombstones erected by the mother nature herself. It wasn't just the color – it was this eerie feeling coming off of them.

As if they had entered a place they were not permitted to.

The closest comparison Damien could come up with was that this place was way too similar to a Sacred Acre.

Another half hour of walk later, the group finally came upon a ruin of ancient temple. And what a total ruin it was; only a couple of crumbling walls devoid of any carvings or fresco remained standing, trying to remind all the passersby of its former glory. Who knows how long they were left unattended to?

But the most important part wasn't the walls but what laid beyond them.

The group took shelter behind one of the walls and crouched. Damien peered over the edge and checked out the massive Invocation Array carved on the flat, smooth rocky surface.

Ancient letters and runes, long forgotten by the passage of time, dotted the spaces between the ornately carved lines of the Array.

Right in the middle of the Array, a pair of metallic rings the size of a three-story building floated lazily – not suspended by anything and not affected by the irresistible pull of the planet below.

The rings themselves were full of the unknown runes and symbols. Each of the letters glowed softly and intermittently, and after Damien had gazed at them long enough, he could see that there was some kind of pattern to the light show, the way the symbols flickered in various colors. As to what they meant – that wasn't really important to them at the moment.

“That must be it,” Damien murmured.

Around the Array, five men walked around the perimeters, covered head to toe in near-white coats, their faces covered in bizarre masks of sorts that covered the faces but also had a clear material over the areas around the eyes. Their job was pretty obvious even to the most casual observer – to guard this Array.

More importantly, though – they were carrying the long metallic cylindrical things, just like the ones at the City Hall, except that now these weapons were colored white, just like their apparels.

“Visitors,” Damien signaled to the rest of the group to take a gander.

Silently, the men took turns to check the targets out and exchanged silent nods.

However....

“Something's wrong,” said one of the men. “Why are there only so little men guarding the... portal? Surely, if it were left to me, I'd stick a whole company of soldiers to protect that thing.”

Everyone tensed up after the realization hit them. There was just too few of them here.

They became fully alarmed; Damien's hand reached down to Frostbane, ready to unsheath it.

Then, a loud, thunderous echo cracking the still air.

Suddenly, the dark night sky became as bright as day time. There were figures emerging from everywhere,loudly shouting at Damien and his men.

The man next to Damien grunted and fell. The group couldn't understand what just had happened. But Damien knew.

“They are onto us!!”

He shouted and dived flat on the ground.

Those with a quick wit followed suit and hit the floor. More of those cracking sounds boomed across the ravine, shredding the cold night air with the shrill scream of destruction.

Of the six Damien came with, two were shot down where they crouched. It was a pinpoint sniping at its finest display. Each of the shots was not fatal but still at the points on the body that would disable the targets.

Cursing inwardly, Damien and company try to hightail it out of there but were swiftly surrounded by the men wielding those cylindrical things. The Visitors were loudly shouting something at Damien and his men, but since the insurmountable wall of language barrier stood between the parties involved, no meaningful exchange of words took place.

At least the gestures of pointing to the ground seemed easier than the most to understand. Damien quickly figured out that these Visitors wanted them to hit the ground again, face down.

In other words, the Visitors wanted a total, unconditional surrender. Peacefully, if possible.

The Visitors, shouting and threatening, pointing those cylindrical things at Damien and his group, approached even from behind.

How did this happen?! God damn it!! Damien continued to curse. How did they know of our presence?! We were so careful with our infiltration!!

One of the Visitors began to yank the longsword strapped to one of the Adventurers. He looked angry but since he was surrounded by the beings with unknown combat potential, he dared not to resist.

As this was going on, Damien noticed that there was this one man who wasn't dressed the same as the others. He didn't even hold that cylindrical item either.

He lifted the clear eye-mask thing, exposing his face to Damien and to others.

Damien frowned. This man's facial structure was foreign to him, although he was undoubtedly a human. A head full of dark hair, a matching pair of eyebrows, deep, dark eyes and flatter cheekbones and jawline – not a face Damien had encountered before.

If Kain was here, he'd recognize it, though – as an Eastern Asian man.

This Asian man spoke English in a cold tone.

“So, you're the lot that made me freeze my ass waiting for you all this time. Boys, bag 'em and process 'em for an immediate shipping to HQ.”

Damien didn't understand what this man was saying, but the disdainful intonation was hard not to pick up on. Even Feisty, who was right next to Damien, just about to get stripped of his weapons, understood the sneering tone of the man in front.

Feisty then whispered softly.

“Hey, Damien, listen. I'll distract them. But in return, you go lay a flower at each of the graves of my family, alright?”

Damien didn't even have the time to say no. Because, as soon as one of the Visitor got close to Feisty, the burly Adventurer's hands shot out and grabbed that cylindrical thing and pushed away, dragging in the surprised wielder of the said item into his embrace.

Commotion broke out in that moment. Gritting his teeth, Damien too sprung to action, unsheathing Frostbane and swinging it hard.

The blade of Frostbane shimmered icily as it drew an arc, and as it did so the air solidified into a frozen wall. Being in an environment that suited its natural attribute, the might of the sword was in its full display. Even the armor-piercing rounds failed to get past this Aeterna-created barrier.

Taking this chance, the other Adventurers got into a confused tussle with the rest of the Visitors, and a melee broke out.

Feisty cried out. “Go!! Damien, run!!”

Before any of the Visitors could block the way, Damien was up and running, breaking past the cordon of the Visitors in front and liberally swinging his Frostbane to cause the air to crack apart and freeze.

He dashed hard into the snowy darkness, with people screaming and shouting far behind him.

Bullets flew and grazed him but acting on nothing but instinct, Damien raised his prosthetic arm to deflect them, causing bright sparks to shoot out into the air.

Seeing this, the Asian man's eyes glittered in avarice. He looked around him, just in time to catch the sight of the U.S. Special Forces operatives finally restraining the rowdy natives, pushing them and locking them on the cold ground.

Nodding coolly, he pointed at the fleeing back of Damien and said, “Sergeant, please apprehend that man alive if possible but intact at the very minimum. His weapon is the first priority. Go.”

“Yes, Doctor Kurosaki.”

The Sergeant then signaled to his men. A fireteam consisting of four men broke away from the full squadron and headed beyond the walls where they promptly pull the covers off five hidden snowmobiles parked there.

Soon, the mountainous landscape was reverberating to the harsh and shrill cries of internal combustion.

The sound, of course, didn't escape Damien's hearing either.

What a nerve wrecking thing, that was. The air seemed to shred into bits, the whines of the engines piercing into his brain and scarring his psyche. Not even the most vocal flock of harpies could produce such a sharp screech.

Not only that, those snowmobiles were equipped with high intensity LED lights and were capable of illuminating a deadened football stadium with their combined brightness.

It didn't take too long for the operatives to zero in on Damien's location, as he stumbled past the snow covered ground.

He felt the Visitors chasing him down with the kind of relentless pace he could not hope to match. His breathing was getting heavy, his feet were moving slower and slower with every step taken. His energy reserves were being quickly depleted. The overall outlook wasn't too good at this rate.

A snowmobile carrying the operative closed in from his right side. Damien raised his prosthetic arm just in time to receive a blow to his side. The metal arm absorbed most of the impact but he was still lifted off the feet and fell hard into the snow. His head rang as if a bell went off behind his ears.

What a surprising strength, carried behind that attack. If it weren't for the arm, his ribs might have been broken. As he laid on the snow, he grimaced in pain, his thoughts beginning to fade away.

But the snow got in the way. Its coldness was truly refreshing. It seeped under his clothes, into his bones, and into his mind, telling him to get up and keep on moving. That's what he did.

Not only that, the clarity brought on by the bit of snow getting under his clothes meant his thought process livened up more as well. Immediately, he could tell that these Visitors riding on the noisy Invocation Tools were avoiding the grounds with rocky undulations, instead preferring to take the smoother paths.

That gave him an idea.

Rather than trying to plow through the relatively flatter snowy plains, he decided to take his chance and brave the narrower, more treacherous way down the slope of the mountains.

Here, there were many, many more protrusions of sharp and unforgiving rocks; one mistake was enough to send the careless into the abyss below. Surely, those Visitors riding on those fast but unwieldy things would not be able to set foot there.

His perceptions told him there were still several Rutens left before he could reach the potential safety. He figured that it best not to waste time and start moving already.

Damien dived forward to dodge when another of those noisy things rushed in from behind. He got wise after the first hit so he wasn't going to suffer the second time.

He dodged again when he heard the snowmobiles getting closer. He was now seeing the pattern here. Dodging out of the way was getting easier.

However, that didn't mean the operatives would just stay still and not improvise. Oh no.

Finally, one of them had enough of as-slippery-as-an-eel Damien and decided he'd rather shoot his quarry.

So, he brought the telescopic lens to his eyes, trained the crosshair behind the moving back of his target, and squeezed the trigger.

His aim wobbled a bit, but the bullet still found the mark and grazed Damien's shoulder.

The burning pain from being shot, a sensation that was already quite familiar, exploded from the wound, making him grimace bitterly.

The red blood sprayed on the white snow as the bullet went through cleanly. Ignoring the searing pain, Damien took a calculated tumble forward and dived behind a large boulder, trying to put a barrier between him and those troublesome weapons of the Visitors. His head narrowly missed the rough edges of the boulder, but consequently, even though those cracking sounds rang out from the cylindrical weapons, he was protected from the further damage.

Feeling relieved slightly, Damien quickly continued on his way. As for the operatives, they had to dismount from the snowmobiles as the terrain became too unsuitable. However, on foot, the soldiers exhibited the kind of trained movements not even the most experienced mercenaries of this world could pull off. In other words, they were fast. Like, really fast.

The slight gap Damien had opened up was now evaporating fast. The pressure emanating from the operatives were weighing down on his back like a bag of bricks.

More shots were fired, but Damien was somehow able to duck and weave past them. Or, more than likely, the natural formation of the boulders and rocky outcroppings helped him in this regard. Also, the darkness helped a bit too, shadows where the lights from the snowmobiles could not reach making sure he'd be obscured from the sights of the operatives.

The angle of the slope became steeper as well. The footing became so loose, a single wrong step could mean the end of the road. It was the same for the operatives as well, so the playing field was entirely at a fair level.

However, Damien held a slight advantage over these men. The reason being that he had seen the map and studied it extensively before climbing the mountains, plus him having seen this particular slope during the day. He knew roughly which way to descend.

Now, the gap between the pursued and the pursuers was growing once more. His confidence at getting away grew as the distance increased. Even though the mission itself was a failure, as long as he made it out alive, then it was quite alright to call it a reasonable success. After all, his wife and daughter were waiting for him to come home.

Before long, the pursuers were so far back Damien could afford to take a breather and slow down his mad dash just a bit. It was still quite dangerous to relax, of course, as the angle of descent remained precarious, and the footing just as loose as before, but if it was for a moment to recover even a sliver of his stamina which would bring him closer to his home, it was worth all the risk.

A smile stretched across his face, the cursings of the Visitors and the loud cracking noises getting further away still. He slipped once or twice, but hell, that was nothing to worry about compared to the fate that may have awaited him if he got captured. So it was all good.

His grin was destroyed in a heartbeat, however, when a roar exploded out of nowhere, coming from deep within the mountain range.

It was a roar quite unlike any other.

The mountains rumbled. The ground quaked suddenly.

Damien lost his footing for good. And so did the Visitors.

The roar continued on for a good few minutes, and the world trembled as if it was terrified by the being capable of making such an incredible racket.

Gradually, the roar faded away, but Damien still felt the aftereffects. He was unable to stand, his knees still trembling in instinctual fear. He wasn't the only one, too; the Visitors were shivering like a bunch of wet dogs, panting heavily on their kneeling position.

Damien forced himself to stand. Even though his heart was beating so fast, almost as if it wanted to jump straight out of his chest, he had to continue moving. He may be momentarily safe here, but that could be easily shattered by the smallest, littlest things imaginable.

He looked back towards the Visitors, and they too were trying to stand back up.

However....

Beyond them, behind them – he saw a movement.

A white wall was rushing down towards them.

An avalanche was swallowing everything in its path downwards. And its next targets were the Visitors and Damien.

It came down so fast, Damien couldn't even think of escaping.

All he could do was close his eyes, and think for a brief moment, the images of his family, their faces full of happiness.

Then he was slammed by the rushing snow.

He and the operatives fell headlong into the dark abyss below, their screams drowned out by the tumbling snow.

~​

As the morning sun rose that morning, Count Caleb stirred in his bed, waking up suddenly.

He couldn't remember when he tucked himself under the sheets. The last thing he did recall, was when he was taking a long, hard chug of the alcoholic beverage brewed up by a local. It was his favorite, this drink. Helped him with his sleep.

He slowly pushed his thinning body out of the bed, and after putting on some robe, he strode out of the chamber. He was headed to Dukakis's office, his former office, to check out what had transpired during his slumber.

He was greeted by the members of the staff. Caleb returned their practiced bows with a short grunt, knowing that lengthy greetings from him were unnecessary and also not expected. No need to waste time and energy there.

When he arrived at the office, though, he noticed that Dukakis already had a guest. He could see that through the doorway as the maidservants, after delivering the refreshments, were closing the door.

It was surprising to have one so early in the morning, so understandably Caleb was taken aback.

Not even hesitating for a second, Caleb cleared his throat and pushed open the door, striding inside as if he owned the place. Which, in truth, he did.

Dukakis looked startled and stood up from his seat. “Father, you are awake.”

“Mmm.”

Caleb nodded and turned his gaze toward the person sitting on the sofa opposite Dukakis's.

The man was clearly a nobleman – a very high ranking one at that, judging by all the luxurious trinkets worn around on his person. And never mind the fact that there were four other people standing near this noble.

Even a blind bat could tell those people “belonged” to the nobleman.

“Why don't you introduce us, Dukakis. Who is this guest in our house, so early in the morning?”

With a gruff voice, Caleb sharply looked at his son's face, only to see a strange mixture of apprehension and determination swirling there.

There was sadness in there too. Lots of them. And unmistakably, guilt.

Before Dukakis could say anything, the nobleman spoke up first. His voice was calm and cultured, but the domineering attitude could not be disguised within. Nor did the man bother to do so in the first place.

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, Count Lomax. Where are my manners – as you say, it is early in the morning and I don't usually stay up all night long. Please do forgive my lapse in etiquette, good Sir.”

The nobleman lightly dusted his lap before standing up smartly. With a grin that bothered on an evil sneer, the man spoke as he straightened his back.

“How do you do. I am Grand Duke Maximus Aurelius de Hamilton, the brother-in-law of the Emperor.”

That name ran like a thunder inside Caleb's head.

Because that name was quite familiar. Only then, did he able to remember the face before him.

This man's name was on the transit records Damien dragged out from the City Hall. And his face was roughly sketched on one of the pages in the journal written by a man named Jonas Bremble.

Caleb wasn't a fool. He could put two and two together. His body began trembling like crazy when the implications of this man being inside his house became clear.

“....What did you do, Dukakis?!”

Caleb breathed in heavily, barely containing his fury.

Dukakis's face was pale, ash-colored. He too was taking a deep, deep breath. He looked so much like a lost kid in that moment, unable to resist the guilt and fear of the punishment.

But that moment passed by quickly and instead, a glint of madness rose in his eyes.

Dukakis silently spat out the words, one by one. “Father, it's about time I take the proper reigns of this territory. His Imperial Highness has kindly agreed to oversee the process of me inheriting the title of Count as well as the smooth transition of all the responsibilities.”

Caleb was now rooted on his spot, no longer shaking furiously. A chilling coldness swept up all over him as he realized what this was.

“Dukakis, what have you done? Did you make a deal with.... him? Did you sell out your brother?”

“I ensured that this House will continue on,” said Dukakis as he gritted his teeth. “I have made sure we all will thrive in the upcoming era.”

Caleb then dashed forward with a shocking amount of speed, taking almost everyone by surprise. He grabbed the collars of his son with a vice-like grip and shook him, hard.

“What?! Are you trying to doom us all? What have you done, you imbecile!!”

Dukakis's face remained pale but the madness in his eyes didn't fade away. Rather, it became fiercer. With a powerful shove, he pushed his father down to the ground, panting heavily like as if he had run a marathon.

Coldly, he looked at his trembling father on the ground and declared.

“Damien was a fool for coming back here. This territory is mine, not yours. Not his, but mine. He dug his own grave.”

Maximus was watching the scene develop with a bemused expression on his face, calming drinking the tea. He was thoroughly enjoying this; after all, he was well aware how the old Count opposed his older sister, the current Queen and her concerted efforts to place one of her sons on the Imperial Throne.

Straightening his rumpled jacket, Dukakis turned to face the Grand Duke and hastily apologized for the unsightly event before handing Jonas's journal over.

Clicking his tongue, Maximus perused the old and dirty journal for a moment or two, before tossing it in the hearth and its healthy flames.

Then he spoke to Caleb, his domineering attitude fully intact.

“Your son has made the difficult but ultimately the correct decision for your bloodline, good Sir. After a lengthy but tough negotiation, he had struck an advantageous deal for your House, so you should be proud of him. And, as for you.... well.

This is the end of the road for you, Count Lomax – former Count Lomax. Just sit back and enjoy the new era soon to be upon you and this glorious Empire.”

Caleb was short of breath. The poison that was suppressed until now with the help of the medicine, flared up violently and he felt like all the blood flowing within him were drying up.

But he couldn't care any less about that. All he could think about was the faces of his last born son, Damien, and his wife, Lizbeth. And the faces of his grandchildren. The last two were imaginary, though – since he never got to see them, after all.

One more regret, piled up on top of many others. How unfair it all were.

“Don't worry, father. You will be taken care of, that I guarantee. I will also take care of Donna and Lady Lizbeth as well. I swear it,” said Dukakis, before calling the servants in from the corridor. “Take Count Lomax to his bed chamber. He needs his medicine. Hurry!!”

As he was being carried away, Caleb noted how gray the sky outside the open windows looked. They were the most gray he had ever seen in his entire life.

Here's Chapter 45!! Next!!

 

Spoiler: Chapter 46

46​

And so, the morning of this particular day began just as any other for Kain as well.

He woke from the bed when the vine-man knocked on the door in that irritating rhythm of his. Or its. Whatever.

He splashed water on his face, got dressed, ran downstairs to grab a chow – that still-disgusting meat bun – and dashed outside the fort to meet up with Emma.

He hadn't forgotten about meditation and ch'i training, it's just that the very first thing he did nowadays were the archery and combat training using that dagger he found in the armory.

He felt pretty good with the rate of progress in Archery. Kain and Emma sat around making bows that would fit his smaller physique and although the first batch of a dozen was a total bust, gradually they got better at crafting it, so now, he had in his hand a pretty nice shortbow.

It wasn't still at a level that could be sold in a weapon shop but for a thing hammered out by two idiots with no experience, it entirely was passable, all things considered.

That was a month ago. And now he had moved onto something slightly bigger, capable of firing an arrow that was also longer. He got better at handling them, in other words. Oh, how good he felt at finding something he was actually very good at.

As for handling the dagger, he was still a long way off from looking the part of a professional. But he was getting there. Eventually.

“Hey, morning, Emma.”

Kain waved his hand, greeting her. She waved back and beckoned him over impatiently.

“What's the matter? You look flustered.”

Kain came up next to her, noticing how riled up she seemed to him from the outside.

“That is because I spotted a herd of yellow horned goats passing by not too far from here only an hour ago!! Hurry up, will you? Before all that tasty, delicious meat disappears!!”

She grabbed his shoulder and began forcibly pulling him towards the exit of the dead city.

Kain tilted his head. “Eh? So why didn't you, you know, hunt them by yourself?”

“Dummy. It's a good opportunity to get some live practice in for you. Those goats are seriously nimble, after all. So, stop being a slowpoke and come with me!!”

Resigned to being pulled around like a log of wood, Kain just gave up and let her do whatever she wished. Not that he minded, though – those goats did taste great when roasted in the open pit. Didn't matter if they lacked spice, salt, oil – the meat was way too good to be real.

And them being a real handful in the densely wooded area did make them good for a target practice for him, too. So, there.

Kain couldn't help but wonder what the Old Man might have to say regarding this lackadaisical approach to his training regime. He would, most likely, not approve and throw a tantrum.

It was his fault, though – he left without saying much and hadn't shown up until now. Nobody knew just when he was coming back. Granted, there were only two people here, not counting that crimson-colored bird, but still.

Well, he did leave Emma in charge of his training. If things go awry then he should blame her for whatever mishaps that had gone down during his absence.

Swiftly enough, the pair of them left the city and was hoofing it across the barren lands in front of the massive ramparts.

However, it was here that their footsteps came to an abrupt stop. Because, almost at the same time, both Emma and Kain sensed a presence heading towards them from up above. And it was a big one.

Reflexively, they looked up.

Kain's continuous meditation helped to develop his ch'i-related perception and unbeknownst to him, he was already forming a Yi Hai of his own. Since the Old Man wasn't around to guide him, though, it was not being applied correctly, however.

But such a thing didn't mean Kain wasn't using his new-found ability to casually check things out, even if that meant he wasn't 100% sure of what he was seeing at that moment.

But with something that big, it didn't take a genius to figure out this was going to become a serious matter very soon.

When they looked up at the crisp, late Autumn sky, they could see something flying over there. Even though his eyesight had improved significantly during his stay here, it was still difficult to make out what that something was.

It hovered, then swooped around, flying at a supersonic speed towards the Tetamus mountain range's naturally unscalable walls, before spinning back and coming to where Kain and Emma were.

It's huge, thought Kain. What the hell could be that big?! It's as big as a Sky Ark from back then!!

Not only big, it was also serious fast. Logically, to have something that big and fly so fast, it couldn't be done. Not with the level of scientific progress this world had made. It made no sense at all. Kain felt a bucket of cold sweat trickle down his backside.

At the same time, Emma was shaking like crazy. Her eyes were wide, her pupils were constricting, her nostrils were flaring wildly. Her lips parted and closed at the repeated attempts to say something, but her words were firmly stuck in her throat, refusing to come out.

But her jaw finally drooped low. She could fully take in the incredulous sight of the huge flying thing that was now headed directly to where they were.

And with her mouth finally slack, some stuttering words began to flow out. She sounded more like as if her soul was leaving her, though.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. No way. No, that can not be. That, that is.... that is not what I think it is, right? Eh? No way, that...

That is an Elder Dragon!!”

Kain froze on the spot too, after hearing her mutter the “D” word.

“Wait, what? Hold up. What the hell is an Elder Dragon?!”

Kain grabbed Emma and shook her hard. He had no idea what made it an elder, and by definition more special than a regular dragon, but since there was the distinction it must have meant something not very nice. And he'd love to find out why.

But she didn't tell him why an Elder Dragon was worse than a normal dragon sans the “Elder” bit.

Instead, she shouted out aloud.

“RUN AWAY!! Evacuate and hide, now!!”

Like a lightning bolt, she grabbed Kain and then ran back towards the ramparts of the city.

But the Elder Dragon was just too fast. Kain could tell that they were not going to make it in time.

And just like that, with an ear-splitting “BOOM” the dragon landed right before them, raising a thick cloud of dust to obscure the view.

Kain heard a low growling that sounded like a really, really evil, big block V8 motor idling just off throttle, getting ready to rumble the moment the drag strip lights go green.

The bass contained in that was thick and heavy enough to make his heart beat irregular; the earth vibrated faintly too.

The silhouette rose like a ghost hidden behind a veil of fog; it was beyond humongous. Kain swallowed nervously as the dust curtain began to settle slowly.

The dark shape before him, materializing bit by bit, was at least as big as three 18 wheeler trucks combined. Maybe even bigger. In all honesty, his head was spinning around too fast to get an accurate dimension for the creature right in front of them.

The giant lizards he had fought against in the past – the lesser Earth Drake he managed to trap in a hole all those years ago, or the red Wyrm he chased away when filled with power – couldn't even come close to the sheer scale of the thing right in front of him, so at least he did have some sort of reference to compare it to.

Its scales were glossy black, and even the reflecting sun's rays got dyed black as well – as if the dozens upon dozens of black paint cans were liberally sprayed all around it.

And then, to cap off the sinister aura, a pair of thin crimson streaks ran alongside its side, starting from just below its eyes.

And what scary looking eyes those were.

Kain shuddered like a wet dog simply from the enormous pressure emitted from those eyes. Glowing in amber-ish hue and possessing ample hints of superior intelligence, it looked down on him, on them. Those eyes had him firmly rooted on the very spot, unable to break free from its withering stare.

Emma was affected badly, too. She bit her lower lip in order to remain lucid against the powerful aura of the Elder Dragon, but her body was trembling heavily. It was not reacting as she'd liked it to.

Seeing her like this, which was quite different from the kind of fear she showed before in the presence of that Wyrm, Kain became painfully sure of at least one fact: this situation was a very bad one for them.

“What should we do?”

He desperately whispered at Emma, but she didn't respond back immediately. She was too busy fighting back against the pressure to hear him.

As for Kain, he had diligently been circulating the accumulated ch'i around in his dan tian, hoping to ease the pressure weighing down on him. After all, it worked against that violet knight creature from the underground lab. Surely it should work here too.

Sure enough, a little bit of ch'i circulating in his meridians did indeed alleviate some of the pressure but it also had a strong side effect. Kain got to see the naturally occurring ch'i flow of the dragon.

It was a terrifyingly violent maelstrom of pure power, pulsating and pummeling around like a hurricane blasting around a volcano that was just about to go off. Seething, coiling, tearing the fabric of reality – that was the extent of the creature's ch'i.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most awesome and extremely scary sights he had ever seen.

Next, Kain opened his Aeterna vision and took a good look at the dragon. In short, it was even more terrifying.

Crimson-colored Aeterna seethed out of its pores, distorting and disrupting the natural flow of surrounding Aeterna like a darkened cheese curls.

The amount oozing out of the creature was absolutely insane, too.

So, to surmise: this dragon was an existence was something too far out of reach for his meager powers of comprehension. For a sake of clarity, he figured that his “level” when he became a resident of this city would be around 3, maybe at 4 at a push. Of course, this world didn't have those generic game elements to dumb down the complexity, but it was a useful and simple way to compare nonetheless.

The lesser Earth Drake was probably between the level 30 to 40. The Wyrm was verging on 70+.

But this dragon here, it was more like “well over level 255.” If Kain had one of those Saiyan Scouters at hand, he'd break it apart in an overly dramatic fashion, too.

Dang it all to hell, Kain swore profusely in his heart. What the hell is this crap? Why is this happening to me in the first place?? I didn't sign up for this kind of rubbish.

The black Elder Dragon dismissively snorted and turned its scaly, spiky head towards him and Emma, narrowing its eyes and leering at them. Now that gave him the bad case of the chills.

He couldn't understand why that enormous thing was looking at them like that. No way a pair of small, frail creatures looked that tasty, though, to a dragon the size of a mountain. So, it might ignore the two of them and move on elsewhere.

At least, that's what he hoped for, anyway.

Whatever the case may have been, the situation was dire. They had to do something, anything, to overcome this predicament.

The dragon sniffed the air for a bit, while the licks of flames small and large, danced and hissed around its snout.

Was it not paying much attention to Kain and Emma? It seemed to swing its considerably large head around as if to search and observe the surroundings, ignoring the two small fries in front of it.

But the two of them remained frozen, unable to even move. The pressure emitted from the dragon was just too powerful to overcome easily.

Kain had a really unsightly facial expression at that moment. He suddenly felt the whole thing he was going through was rather unfair.

He tried to get stronger – and when every time he made some progress, a giant monster popped up out of nowhere without a warning to threaten his life.

It was the lesser earth Drake, then that crimson Wyrm as well as the six-armed giant Fiend. And now, this Elder Dragon.

What the hell. Am I a giant monster attracting magnet or something?

He felt the whole thing was so patently unfair. Not sure why it was so, but the cards this life dished out so far made him feel so bitter at this moment.

None of his feelings mattered as of now. The world was a cruel and unforgiving place, where a weak-kneed sentimentality only got people killed instead.

Kain had forgotten that truth. After living a rather pampered life at Riverfield, and then here, at the forgotten city where everything became a comfortable routine, he became soft, ironically enough.

There was the event with the raiding bandits, and his life being threatened by Fiends living in the forest earlier on but as his skill set began to improve, he had forgotten what it was like to be constantly near death and always surrounded by danger, both physical and psychological.

The powerful presence of an Elder Dragon before him brought it all back.

Finally snapping out of the fear induced state, Emma gripped Kain's hand tightly. Any tighter, and she'd break it right off.

“When I give you a sign, run towards my opposite direction.”

Kain nodded slowly.

He understood the chance of one of them surviving increased by doing this. Surely, that chance, however small, was better than nothing.

Even so, by soberly looking at the facts, one could tell that the dragon and its huge body would easily negate whatever Kain and Emma did with its ridiculous reach.

They had to believe in their individual speeds. That they would be able to make it to safety somehow.

The fort up ahead was out of the question, for now. The dragon was in the way. So the two of them had to run backward, to the forest behind them. The distance was great, but by splitting up, the odds were that one of them could make it.

Kain tensed. His entire body was tightening up, ready to pounce.

His eyes focused on the sinewy, muscular forearms of the black Elder Dragon, seeing and studying the way they flexed and bulged. Kain wasn't sure whether to call them forelegs, though.

The overall look of the Elder Dragon was a one-quarter salamander, and the rest the good ol' fantasy-genre staple, fire-breathing, princess-kidnapping type dragon, just a heck of a lot larger and sporting a wingspan of a jumbo jet.

And a snout full of crisscrossing fangs and teeth that jutted out like lances of a demon, the smallest being as big as a grown up adult.

Three thick, huge horns adorned its forehead and a dozen smaller ones protruding from the aft of its skull.

The aforementioned snout was long, as long as a collie. Comparing an Elder Dragon's nose to a popular breed of a pet dog wasn't cool but that was the very first thing Kain's mind conjured up, so it couldn't be helped.

There was a hint of sulfur in the air, an obnoxious smell of rotten eggs. Accompanying that, also an acrid and bitter smell of something burning.

Suddenly, Emma shouted.

“...Go!! Move!!”

The signal finally came.

They separated and ran in a V, each of them taking the opposite direction as fast as their legs could carry. Kain didn't hesitate and cast Body Enhancement on his legs, as well as circulating as much ch'i as he could afford down there. That helped tremendously with the quick getaway.

However, the moment Kain set off, he thought the Elder Dragon snickered a little. He wasn't sure if he saw it properly but the image, whether real or not, lingered like the aftertaste of a bitter cold syrup.

In a blink, Kain crossed half way mark to the mouth of the forest. He had this feeling that once inside, hiding from the dragon would be easy enough, provided he does the deed quickly. Which was convenient.

Learning Archery and hunting for food in the forest, there was one added benefit – learning to conceal himself in the shadows. Otherwise, it'd be tough to stalk a potential dinner, after all.

He wasn't at the level of Emma but still, even with the freaking Elder Dragon as his opponent, he was reasonably confident of his chances. He wasn't getting conceited, no, but seeing that the dragon had such a massive body, it'd be quite hard to move freely around inside the forest while Kain would be just fine.

Or, that was how things should have gone down.

Kain heard Emma's screams to his side, very far away. Almost purely acting on that disgusting instinct every person possessed, that inexplicable need to confirm the misfortune of the others, he turned his head to see.

Why did humans feel the need to spectate when terrible things happened to others? Like when your neighbor's house burnt down, or on a highway with a fatal car crash and lines of slow moving traffic manned by cars and drivers all craning their necks to get a better view.

Truly a morbid thing for sure. Yet people did it anyways, all with the mentality of “Better you than me, mister/lady.”

In the case with Kain, it too was not a cool thing to do, anticipating the final moments of someone important to him. But his body reacted all on its own, wanting to engrave the brave sacrifice Emma was making for him to live on.

And after she fell, then he'd definitely avenge her. Maybe not now, but soon after he's gotten stronger, which would be many, many years from now on.

But the thing was, instead of seeing a Boscage Elf in trouble, his vision was filled to the brim with that of a fast approaching set of black claws. The hand. A paw, whatever, of the Elder Dragon was coming straight at him and he couldn't even think of dodging it.

And he was swept up. The Elder Dragon snatched Kain up from the ground and flew up into the air.

That was totally an unexpected event for him. Hell, he was so dumbfounded by this situation, he actually compared himself to a piece of stray Lego that was being picked up by an irate mom who had stepped on it barefoot.

The pressure holding him within the grasp of the dragon's claw was incredible – if it weren't for his ch'i circulating around his meridians as well as Body Enhancement cast all over, every one of his bones would've been grounded to dust.

If he was proficient with Soul Defense like the Old Man, then it'd have been a walk in the park, but alas.

Breathing got a lot harder for him as well, with his chest being compacted by the grip. Blood circulation was affected to the point where he was beginning to feel light-headed.

On top of all that, he also felt a draft of wind tickling the soles of his feet. When Kain looked down, both of his tattered shoes were gone, having fallen below onto the endless sea of greenery that was the Tetamus forest. It certainly looked like he'd have to get himself a new pair of shoes if he somehow managed to survive this ordeal.

The wind felt harsh against his face and it constantly ripped into his eyes, nose, and mouth.

Kain's unkempt hair slapped around like crazy and he could barely see where he was being flown to.

….

….This sucks.

Kain groaned inwardly.

~​

Mercifully, the forced flight was short.

The Elder Dragon lightly tossed mentally tired Kain on one of the highest flat pieces of land in the entire mountain range – smack dab on the peak of the Tetamus Mountain itself. The one that sprouted out of the middle of the forgotten city. The one that kinda looked like a thumb tack.

It was a huge, open plateau where there was enough space to hold several football matches side by side. Who'd think of such an open area on top of a spindly mountain like this?!

Kain rolled on the dirt for a bit until coming to an eventual stop.

Choking on the thick layer of dust, Kain gingerly stood up, his legs shaking weakly. He placed his hands on the knees to steady himself.

He gasped for air – unfortunately, the altitude meant that it was quite thin up here. He could hardly breathe in a satisfying, lung-filling amount no matter how many times he tried.

On the upside, though, Aeterna up here was as pure and rich as the area near the One Tree underground so he lost no time in utilizing that to replenish his energy instead.

The black Elder Dragon hovered above the boy for a bit, then landed with a loud boom. Oddly, there wasn't too much dust being kicked up from that. The giant creature narrowed its eyes and studied Kain for a short moment before speaking in a thunderous, bass-heavy voice.

“You boy, you the brat living in that fort down there, right? Hmm?”

Its jaw didn't move as one might expect, but the sound coming from it easily reverberated through Kain's skull. The dragon's voice was deep and husky as if it was a chain smoker who burned through two packs of cigarettes a day. That, or a fifties Jazz singer, laced with enough whiskey to bring the house down. Using the funky grooves channeling out of the polished saxophone, of course.

The fact that it talked, never mind in the Common tongue of the Empire, escaped Kain's attention completely due to all the fear he was experiencing then.

“Oi, answer me, brat. Or you gone deaf after pissing in ye' little pants?”

It snorted and as a result, Kain's face was hit by the considerably hot gust of wind coming from its nostrils. Thankfully it wasn't at the face-melting temperature but was hot enough to wake him up from the petrified state.

“No, ah, erm, what, uh, was the question? I, ah, sorry but ah, I didn't...”

Kain stammered out some words but the Dragon didn't look too impressed by the boy's half-assed effort.

Its head leaned in closer and the air around Kain began to boil – and no, that wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him.

“Huh, so yer deaf indeed. Hmm, so far, so disappointing.”

I'm sorry. Didn't mean to disappoint you, honest. Please don't eat me.

Kain fervently prayed in his mind – although he could have said those words aloud. Maybe the desperate words of a scared kid might convince the massive creature to stop bullying him. Or something.

“Hmm. Fine. Doesn't matter. Well then, start running, boy.”

Eh? Run? I don't get it.

Kain stood there, confused and scared at the same time. But soon, he got it, rather forcibly, he might add.

Because, the Elder Dragon started spewing out massive walls of flames at him. So, he started running away in order to save his behind from getting royally roasted by the fabled “breath” of a dragon.

~​

And so, finally, right here. Where, Kain was busy contemplating all that had happened to him, of both lives he had lived so far. Right back at the very beginning of this little story.

The black Elder Dragon was still merrily chasing the boy around while melting the vast plateau all around like it was the most fun activity in the entire world. Oh, and there was all that smack talk, too.

And the situation hadn't changed since then. Kain was still cornered. He was running for his dear life. But there was only a finite amount of land he could run on and unfortunately for him, at the rate of speed he was moving at, it'd be the end very soon. After that, it was a straight trip down to Purgatory. And no, he didn't possess a miracle return ticket he could cash in at the moment.

Usually, at this point he'd be flailing around like a blind man without a cane, panicking like a screaming dame in a '50s Sci-Fi Horror film. But thanks to ch'i circulating through Shang, at least now he could think on his feet with some amount of clarity, avoiding falling into a bottomless pit of despair.

He knew that something had to be done, and done real fast.

As far as he could tell, there were two options still available. One, he could take his chance and jump off the cliff, hoping for another ledge or something similar to land on. Otherwise, he'd die by plummeting down a million miles to the ground below.

Two, he could take his chance, turn around and fight the dragon earnestly.

Admittedly, both options weren't very attractive, but they were the only ones he could think of at the moment. He could try talking to the big flying lizard, but his gut told him that he'd go nowhere with that.

Seriously – what could a mere human boy not older than seven years of age say to a dragon that would change its attitude for the better? Not a thing, that's what.

He glanced over the shoulder while running, to see the dragon's mug. Clearly. the damn lizard was having a ball, judging by the way it was actually laughing hard at the flames scorching Kain's rear end. He wanted to hurl back some kind of smart comebacks but as he was short of breath, it was impossible to even form a word. That also meant talking his way out was not going to happen.

It was at this point where Kain seriously considered the second option of fighting, even if that was for a very fleeting second or two.

Fight it? Can I?!

He wasn't an idiot – well, not entirely. Even he could see that the dragon was way too powerful for him to take on single-handedly. It was also quite obvious that not even Emma lending a hand would not be enough to get him anyway near it, let alone scratch its glossy black scales. He didn't even think about his hidden trump cards, the dagger and the golden disc. What good would they do when he couldn't even get close to the darn thing?! And besides that, his bow was broken, the dagger was too short, the golden disc would only be good for putting up a temporary shield that wouldn't last too long against the draconic breath.

By fighting, wouldn't he be able to create a chance, an opening, to make his escape? That was this one persistent thought buzzing inside his head.

But he was also aware such a thing only happened in movies and in works of fiction. And, only to those plot-armor protected main characters. No guarantee here of him enjoying such a protection so far, recounting all the incidents he had gone through in the past.

He understood that escaping to a lower ledge that might be there or not was the only sensible option left. So, to increase the odds of success, he needed to find out if there was a ledge to jump down to, in the first place.

Without losing any speed, Kain ran towards the edge of the cliff and while taking care not to trip over the precipice by accident, he peered over the side. Maintaining his focus on running, keeping balance, surveying the land and at the same time staying mindful of the dragon behind took a lot of doing if it weren't for his Shang working so well.

He was prepared but still, got a frightening chill creep down his spine when he confirmed just high the plateau was. If he fell, never mind being a pancake, he'd vaporize into nothingness just from the impact.

After a short scan of the area, Kain found what looked like a tiny piece of a protrusion on the cliff face up ahead. It was still a bit further so it was hard to accurately estimate just how wide and sturdy it was, but crucially, if he could nail the landing, that could potentially lead to a way down below.

Because, like a staircase, there were other ledges spaced at a certain interval below the one he saw first. If he could make it, then he could jump down on those to, perhaps, reach the safety of the ground.

It did look a bit tight, though, so he had to bring his A-Game and summon forth all his training he endured up until this moment if he wanted to continue breathing for longer.

A lick of flame burned his butt when Kain slowed down for a fraction of a second to take a look. It was only for a brief moment, no more than half a second, yet, the draconic flames were in a full-on overzealous mode.

Needless to say, it was hot. So hot, he desperately wanted to rub the screaming flesh to soothe the pain but could not afford the luxury.

Ignoring the immediate pain, Kain timed his jump just right and leaped into the air.

Behind him, arms flailing dramatically, a wall of Bay-esque explosions and scorching flames rose. Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl right then, allowing the boy to feel the smallest changes in the temperature of the atmosphere, a trickle of sweat teasing the side of his face, the worn tunic flapping about around his waist, the hair flicking back with the wind – the whole nine yards.

His thoughts remained lucid and fluid as before, though – and that allowed his mind to observe so many things quicker than normal. One could say this was what a person experiences during a life-or-death encounter, his or her veins pumping full of adrenaline.

The landing point became increasing smaller to his perceptions. No, it wasn't getting physically smaller, but instead his confidence of safely arriving on it that was diminishing fast.

Alternate thoughts of Oh no, I won't make it and Yes, I can do this continued to ebb and flow as his airborne body neared the destination.

After what felt like an hour had passed, Kain's bare feet finally hit the rough and uneven surface. The momentum forced his body to carry on forward and as a result, he tumbled face first, rolling on the floor towards the edge of the ledge and to the endless abyss beyond it.

He tried to reach out and grab hold onto something, anything.

All his fingers felt were gravel and rocks that came loose at the mere hint of a touch or pressure. Not a blade of grass was here. Nothing to slow him down with and he continued to slide towards his demise.

Gritting his teeth, he instinctively used Body Enhancement on his fingers to dig into the surface, just as his legs swung off the edge, dangling dangerously over the empty air.

He felt incredible pain from all of his fingers, but somehow, he had stopped his body from falling thousands of feet down to his death.

It was still not over yet, as the flame-spewing Elder Dragon was still up there, flying around and laughing its guts out.

“Oh, so you do have some gumption in ya. I'm beginning to respect ya just wee bit mo' now.” The dragon roared with laughter. It was still having a grand old time up there.

Kain pulled himself up and saw the state his fingers were in. The two fingers on the right hand were dislocated, pulled loose out of their sockets while the skins on the rest were pretty much gone and blood was seeping out of everywhere.

Oddly, it wasn't as painful as he thought. Compared to the time when his hand turned into a bloody pulp by carelessly using the Soul Crusher back when, this much was nothing. And by circulating ch'i over the wounds, they already began to heal up, albeit at a much slower pace than when the Old Man injected his own ch'i inside him.

Kain looked above his position to confirm the ledge up there was now blanketed by the tall flames. Going back up there was completely out of the question. Climbing down by jumping to the lower ledges, it was.

Honestly speaking, Kain found it rather amazing that, even without a fuel source, the draconic breath-induced flames could still burn the rocky ground so freely like that.

The incredible amount of Aeterna was being twisted there to keep the immolation going – and Kain was acutely aware of the simple fact that there wasn't enough naturally occurring Aeterna present to sustain the flames. It could only mean one thing – all of the burning was the result of the Elder Dragon's own Aeterna Pool. Kain could hardly guesstimate just how enormous that reserve was.

Grimacing, Kain turned his attention downwards.

The walls were strangely smooth, almost pale and deeply opaque in appearance. Nowhere to place his feet, his hands, nothing to cling on to as he attempted to climb down. He wasn't trying to crawl on the surface like Spider-Man anyways, so that wasn't a big issue. After all, nothing prevented the Elder Dragon from taking a cheeky swipe at him like it whacking a spider off a wall with a rolled up newspaper.

Now that he was on this ledge, he could tell how far the second one was. If a normal person jumped down there, his legs would be smashed to bits. Even with Body Enhancement and ch'i, he had no guarantee whether he could emerge from this jump unscathed.

But he had no choice in the matter. It was too late to go back anyways.

The black Elder Dragon was coming around and in less than it took to blink, it'd be “on” his position.

He had to decide, now.

What was there left to hesitate? There were none. So, while gritting his teeth, he jumped.

He didn't even get to a halfway point between the ledges before the Elder Dragon's front paw snatched his body up in the middle of the leap, robbing him of all the air in his lungs from the impact.

A crushing disappointment dawned on him, draining all the energy out of his already taxed body.

He hadn't thought of the possibility of the dragon increasing its speed so drastically at will – or, for that matter, it seeing through his plan beforehand and stopping the boy before he could go any further.

How stupid can I get, underestimating a being so powerful and obviously also quite intelligent, too? This creature isn't like any other monsters and beasts I've hunted and evaded up until now.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, that's what it was. Should've come up with better ideas faster!!

Kain angrily admonished himself for his conceited way of thinking. He thought that if he died here, then it was just desserts for being a stupid ass.

Briefly, he wondered if he'd be “blessed” with the third chance at life. By whom, he didn't know. But if he was given the said chance, how differently would he live then?

The flames had stopped melting the plateau by the time he was dropped on it. The black Elder Dragon must've decided it's been scorched enough. Probably.

Still, the surface simmered with heat, and Kain's bare feet complained from being cooked slowly. Kain thought wryly at this.

Huh, so the dang lizard wants to take its sweet time preparing me, and thus prolonging my agony, eh. Just wonderful.

Kain did his best to remain upright, but it got harder as the second ticked by. His legs shook a bit, not just because of the fear, but mostly because of the frustration swelling up inside of him.

A small drop of tear formed on the corner of his eye. He noticed it and quickly wiped it off. He was not going to cry, not here, not in front of this damnable dragon. If he was to go, then he was planning to do so with dignity. But the emotions were overwhelming him, fast.

Why that was the case, Kain couldn't be entirely sure.

Thinking back, he must've known, subconsciously at least, that escaping from the clutches of this incredible monster was going to be next to impossible – but at the same time, he wondered if he did give it as good a go as his puny abilities allowed.

Maybe, it was the feeling of being so very, agonizingly close to success, only to see it unceremoniously ripped out of his grasp by an insurmountable wall that was making him so emotional.

And what would happen, when such a frustration boiled over?

In his case, it slowly morphed in rage.

He got pissed off. He was angry at the dragon, angry at the way it treated him, angry at the patently unfairness of his situation. And most importantly, angry at his own powerlessness.

He was so angry, in fact, he was this close to challenging the Elder Dragon. A tiny push was all that stood between him and it from having a cataclysmic showdown of all ages. Despite knowing he'd lose, and lose big time, Kain was too angry to care for the well being of himself. All he cared about was to vent out his dissatisfaction at this creature.

That push arrived in the form of a giant black dragon settling down comfortably on its belly in front of Kain a dozen yards away. He thought that the posture suspiciously resembled a lazy house dog settling down for a spot of an afternoon nap.

And he did feel weird for making yet another doggy-related comparison but that feeling quickly passed by. No harm done.

Anyways.

Seeing the smug face of the dragon, and it suddenly yawning out loud, Kain's nerves snapped.

Unconsciously, Kain began gathering an absurd amount of Aeterna from the air around him. Consciously, he forcefully drew out every little drop of ch'i and began circulating it to the maximum.

He was concentrating so hard, he didn't even notice the ground beneath his feet trembling and humming softly, as the power to demolish just about anything converged on his three dan tians as the focal points.

Kain felt his scalp tingle. He felt the blood in his veins rush furiously, and sensed this power mushrooming rapidly inside him. It was, by far, the most he had ever harnessed before. Well, almost.

Soon, he felt all his muscles groan and ripple in protest – his body was still too weak to wield this much Aeterna and ch'i, reinforced or not.

The air around him swelled and churned. The flowing Aeterna moved so fast it actually caused friction with air molecules.

Kain felt the accumulated Aeterna weigh him down, his feet beginning to sink down into the molten surface. He found this funny, since Aeterna didn't weigh a thing.

The Elder Dragon noticed all of this, but he looked on impassively, as if it was waiting for something to happen. It even began digging into its nostrils and flicked the resulting piece of booger off its claw nonchalantly.

Meanwhile, Kain could feel something familiar rising within him. From his back, a faint outline of a bird began to glow, slowly metamorphosizing into something tangible. It was here that Aeterna swirled into.

Kain poured all his focus there, and tried to form the image of the most strongest attack he had pulled off until now – the rising flame-bird thingy he used all those months ago against the Wyrm and the Giant.

The image became so vividly clear suddenly. He could recall even the tiniest, smallest detail of this Aeterna-formed being.

But it was also slightly different this time; Kain knew he could not summon up the same amount of destructive power as the last time simply because he hadn't merged with Orion the Roc hatchling.

Also, he knew it'd be idiotic to use an attack based on Fire Element when the enemy was obviously proficient at it as well. He couldn't literally fight fire with fire.

And so, he tried to modify it somehow. The most simple answer was to make the attack as cold as possible, but how?

It was at this moment when he heard a slight echo of a girl's distant laughter. This laughter was at once familiar yet alien. He knew he heard it from somewhere, but couldn't put his finger on where exactly.

As soon as the strange laughter ended, a flood of new info began to fill his head up.

He didn't even have the time to question what the hell happened, as an image of a crazy snowstorm entered his mind, along with the Requisite Words required to bring the phenomenon into reality.

It was a spell strong enough to seal away the dragon's fiery breaths if Invoked properly.

When this clear image formed in his head, Kain subconsciously extended both hands forward and began chanting the Required Words.

He had never, ever heard nor read such a chant before yet, there he was, busy mouthing off some random words that came rushing in at the tip of his tongue.

“I look upon the Frozen Wastelands, lamenting

Snows fall and fall, relentless and unremitting

My Will closes the Sky, so I can keep walking

Blocked paths before me, The Winds clearing

I shiver and long for the warmth so welcoming

Arrive Home for the empty coldness waiting

My Hands grasp the Earth and starts digging

So dig for the grave, the heroes and villains falling

Look way yonder, for 'tis is not an ending

Merely the hearts of all evil, lost and freezing!!”

Kain rambled out some random words and the phenomena started; the air around him froze in an instant, and so did the ground – cold, snapping, cracking sounds shattering the dominant howling of the winds.

The heat caused by friction was now replaced by a deathly chill. The wide area around him was being covered in ice with sharp, spear-like icicles jutting out within the radius, all of them pointing towards the Elder Dragon.

And it raised an eyebrow. “Ohh, what do we have here? Hmm?”

The dragon maintained a smug face, seemingly not too bothered by the new development. That irritated Kain so bloody much. So naturally, he vowed to wipe that smile off the oversized lizard's lips once and for all. And then he'd turn the dragon carcass into his boots, belts, and handbags just for a good measure.

He released the Invocation.

The air and the ground between the dragon and Kain solidified into ice faster than he could draw another breath. Its speed and power were truly astonishing even to him who performed it. The freezing air was on course to directly strike the dragon in the face. Even if it was an Elder whatever it'd still hurt like hell, that much he was confident of.

The air crackled loudly. The heated, simmering ground stood no chance against the spell. All of it ended up freezing solid by the storm of icy winds sweeping in closer to the target.

The black Elder Dragon, however, nonchalantly took a shallow breath, and lightly blew at Kain's freezing attack.

Its breath easily overtook the boy's Invocation like a big whirlpool swallowing up a hapless sailboat and rudely slapped him in the face instead.

That definitely hurt. His pride, that was.

Kain tumbled backwards and rolled a couple of times before coming to a dead stop.

His mouth was aghast. He just couldn't believe it.

The strongest, most powerful spell Invoked so far by him was simply dismissed away like as if it was nothing. His pride was shattered into million tiny pieces, each jagged edge cutting through his heart like dozens of dirty scalpels.

Kain stood up slowly but his legs shook too much to remain upright for long.

But he couldn't give up yet. He just couldn't. He had come too far to throw in the towel like this.

He needed to show this bully a thing or two. He hadn't even shown that Old Man how far he progressed, that he could beat his teacher now.

There's just no way he was going to throw in the towel here.

He somehow steadied his trembling limbs. That took a lot of focus – he thanked the metaphorical gods for the ch'i training, otherwise he would've never been able to make the stand.

He tried to gather Aeterna once more. This time, he planned to go with a different Invocation, something that couldn't be so easily blown away.

Yeah, I'll go with an Earth type spell. Maybe I can trap the dragon using four large Earth Walls collapsing on top of it. That might work. Even if the spell doesn't hurt the dragon much, I think it'll buy me enough time for another attempt at escaping. Let's go with this. This time, it's going to work, for sure!!

Kain desperately tried to jeer himself up. But then, something went horribly wrong. It became a lot harder to gather Aeterna. He couldn't sense all the power that accumulated in him anymore. Not even the ch'i was circulating in his meridians.

He was too exhausted. His mind and body were on the verge of blacking out.

No, it can't be. Come on, my body, don't let me down now when I need you the most!! C'mon, just one more push, that's all I need.

Kain gritted his teeth, as he staggered about.

Seeing this pitiful sight, the Elder Dragon let out a sigh. Then, it shook its head and spoke.

“Well now. I guess that is yer limit, eh. Good show, boy. I've now smidgen more respect for yer.” It looked directly into Kain's half closed eyes. “Now listen lad, and listen good. This is the difference 'tween yer and me, a proper dragon.”

Suddenly, the visage of the black Elder Dragon became a thousand times bigger as if it shifted the time and space, lunging at the boy with the rate of million miles per hour. It was all illusory, of course, but to Kain, it seemed so very real.

The whole world distorted in a terrifyingly ugly manner and he sensed Aeterna oozing from the scales turn violently black, rising and dissipating like a toxic miasma.

Its sheer aura alone could blow away all the Aeterna he'd gathered so far. His ch'i circulation wasn't spared either, and everything went absolutely haywire. Not that he had a lot of ch'i and Aeterna remaining in him anyway, but the losses could still be felt by him.

He lost all strength as the overwhelming, indescribable killing aura froze time in its entirety on the plateau. Not even the howling winds dared to make a sound. Aeterna stopped flowing in nature as if it was frozen by the awful fear, too.

Like, the way Kain was frozen stiff by the same thing.

That aura put everything into clear perspective.

Kain's rage that was the fuel for his drive and his stubbornness clouding the judgment, dissipated like thin mist being wiped away from a window.

He understood now.

That he never had the foggiest chance of earning a hard-earned victory here, never mind the boy landing a single, glancing hit on the dragon.

One overriding thought he had was that he just couldn't think of anything that could stand up against this creature. Not even a deity could win a contest of strength against this monster.

What an incredible being this dragon was. Kain could not stop his jaw from slacking and drool in an utter daze like an idiot.

And just as suddenly, the aura was withdrawn. And the frozen world welcomed the flow of time once more. He sat there, on his bum, totally oblivious to the changing surroundings.

He had lost. His will to fight, his anger, his frustration, all gone. And he was left here, alone, abandoned, and naked – figuratively speaking, of course.

He sat there, still and unmoving like a statue of Buddha, as a single thought entered his head – why should he get flustered by an existence that was clearly incomprehensible to a mere human being like himself? There was no point in that, so he shouldn't lose sleep over it.

The Elder Dragon snorted boastfully.

“That's how you show 'em unruly kids. Got that, boy?”

Kain nodded slowly, still dazed like a stoner.

“Hmm, so that old coot maybe wasn't telling no half-truths.”

The dragon peered at Kain, perusing him and scanning him up and down like he was a new pair of socks it wanted to buy – but wasn't 100% convinced of the patterns on the side.

It scratched its chin while cocking an eyebrow in a display of thoughtfulness. “The Old Man did say he found an interesting thing to play with... so the boy wasn't all talk, eh.”

After looking at Kain for a few more seconds like this, it pointed its claw at him and finally announced, rather loudly, to the world its intentions.

“Harrumph. I've decided. You, Kain Lucius Lomax, shall become this Elder Dragon's, the almighty and super-duper-great Draxus's, first ever human disciple!!”

With a whoosh, a cold wind blew by. A single feather of an unknown bird floated in the space between Kain and the Elder Dragon, Draxus. As well as an uncomfortable silence that drifted along with it.

As for Kain, all he could do was gawk and think, Eh? You want what now?

Aaaaaaannnnd, here's Chapter 46!!

 

Spoiler: Chapter 47

47: Volume 1 Epilogue​

Grand Elder Grisham gingerly stood up from his chair. He'd been sitting on it for too damn long and his hips were complaining loudly at the poor treatment.

He gulped down an elixir concocted by the finest alchemy specialist in the city to ease the discomfort and dusted his robe, all ready to head home. He was done for the day. He carefully packed his bag of holding full of important documents and scrolls. Then, he cast an Invocation on the bag, making it weigh less than that of a feather. Otherwise, he would not have even thought about carrying something so heavy home.

He was not a spring chicken anymore, after all.

Stepping out of his office, he nodded at his personal secretary, the black-furred Pantherikin Invoker, and headed downstairs from the top floor via a lift system operating on Aeterna, to the parking area where a carriage waited for him.

He didn't like riding on carriages as they were far too uncomfortable for his aged body, but since there was some distance between his secretive residence and his place of work he had no choice but to endure.

The sun had set and the streetlights were coming on one by one. There was still some traffic on the roads but they were thin enough to never impede Grisham's unmarked personal carriage.

His mansion was quite similar in appearance to Michelle's, except that it had much taller, reinforced walls. Double storied, cast with various protective Invocations to stop any would-be thieves – and assassins – away.

There were no one else in the mansion when he arrived at his darkened home. That was done for the sake of security. He didn't want his maidservants accidentally stumbling onto something sensitive and not meant for the eyes of normal people. It came with his job, not being able to trust people near him.

That sure had its drawbacks. Not having any family member, for one.

Not that Grisham never had a family. No, he had one, years ago, before he took on the post as the Grand Elder – and more importantly, as the head of the internal disciplinary committee.

He had a wife and children a long time ago. And then, grandchildren. Later, great-grandchildren. But he was alone now.

Grunting, he sat the bag down on the top of the desk in his study on the upper floor and made his way down to the kitchen. The maid left his dinner there.

It was cold, but more than serviceable. Quite tasty too, although with his advanced age, his taste buds were dulling significantly as well. He thought that nice food was a waste for a man like him because of that.

After slowly consuming his meal, Grisham went to take a long hot bath. Nothing was better than soaking one's weary body in a tub filled with hot water. At least, he hadn't found one yet.

He dried himself off, got into a loose bathrobe, and strode into his office.

When he was about to turn on the lights via Invocation, he sensed another presence in the office. Grisham frowned, wondering how did someone not approved sneak into his house without him knowing.

As he tried to brighten the room, the intruder murmured quietly.

“No need, Grand Elder Grisham. Instead, please have a seat.”

“Hmph. In this darkness, how am I suppose to find a seat in the first place?” Grisham retorted before waving his hands about. “I do not know who you are, but you're tempting fate, sir. You should very well be aware of who I am.”

Grisham then heard a long sigh. It sounded like the man who exhaled it just now was going through complicated emotions.

“Right, my apologies, Grand Elder. Here.”

The intruder then lit a small Firelight himself. This illuminated his face, revealing a scar that ran to the right side, as well as his bald crown.

Grisham saw an open spot on the sofa opposite the intruder and gingerly sat down on it. He cleared the phlegm with a cough and gazed at the man, before opening his mouth.

“So, who are you, and why have you broke into my home at this late hour?”

The bald man leaned back in his seat. This revealed that he was holding a bunch of documents in his hands. Grisham immediately noticed those and couldn't help but grimace deeply.

“Those are classified information. You are not a member of SOIR and therefore, not allowed to read them,” said Grisham.

The bald man remained quiet, before lightly tossing the documents on the coffee table between the men. He sighed again, before slowly massaging his temples.

“Whew, this is awkward. Well, at least allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marcus Dawson, an Agent from the Special Bureau.”

Grisham cocked an eyebrow. “An Agent? What do you want from me, then? Why didn't you contact me via official channels?”

“That is why I said awkward, prior. My.... current assignment was to.... make sure you don't wake up tomorrow morning.”

Grisham remained unimpressed. “Oh? But you say was. What changed?”

Dawson sighed again. “Well, I still have half a mind to finish my mission right away. I know that it was your great grandson who created the illegal narcotics that resulted in the deaths of many citizens. I also know that it was you who quashed the investigation. On that account alone, you are guilty as hell, Grand Elder. But....”

“But what?” urged Grisham. “I wish to go to bed soon, so please, Agent Dawson. If you have something to say, pray, don't beat around the bush.”

Dawson leaned forward and pointed at the documents.

“I read them. These reports. Investigations discreetly performed by the members of SOIR.... I need you to tell me everything you know about this Dimensional Gate Dial. And why the Children of the Amber is so hell-bent on locating the both pieces.”

Grisham studied Dawson's face for a long while, before coughing lightly again to clear his throat.

“Hmm. The way you speak, it seems like you have encountered the members of the Children in the past. Then you should know they are not a good news for this world. Their end game is to sow chaos and bring about the change in the world. As for the artifact called the Dimensional Gate Dial.... well, you also know some story behind it, no?”

Dawson nodded. “Yes. I was tasked to find it. The mission led me to the doorsteps of a person of interest – and that also led to me realize the hunger the Children of the Amber has for this item.”

“Hoh, is that so. Did you locate it? The Dial piece.”

“No. I was about to elicit an aid from this person but then the Children interrupted the process and left me with.... this.”

Dawson slowly traced the scars on his face.

Grisham nodded at him and began twiddling the dark spot on his cheek. “Hmm. I see. Well, you weren't told of what the item was, were you not? That is understandable. Let me see.... hmm. Your immediate supervisor is... most likely the old outfitter, isn't it.”

Dawson narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything.

“Ah, don't be so alarmed, Agent Dawson. I've heard of an excellent Agent who was capable of wielding Darkness Element under tutelage of that man. And you seem very proficient at it, so I took a wild guess.”

“Does it matter who my superior is supposed to be?”

“Oh yes, it does indeed. Because, as you might have inferred just now by reading those classified documents, the matters regarding the Dimensional Gate Dial only surfaced recently. The Empire's officials don't even know of it yet. Not even the Imperial Family is aware of its existence. But you were given the assignment to locate the Dial? Now that, sir, is rather fishy, wouldn't you say?”

Dawson felt enraged by Grisham's words but he kept his cool to the best of his ability. “Are you trying to say something untoward against my master? If so, such insinuations won't work. Please, just answer my original questions already.”

“Hmm.... I also remember hearing about this particular agent never questioning his orders, carrying them out to their fullest no matter the contents, no matter the difficulty. So, it was true, then.”

Grisham stroked his dark spot with a contemplative expression on his face.

Dawson reached down to the coffee table and grabbed the documents and waved in front of the old Invoker.

“Stop wasting both our time, Grand Elder. Just tell me, what the hell is going on here?!”

Grisham chuckled lightly before becoming dead serious. He stared straight into Dawson's eyes and spoke.

“Agent Dawson, that Dimensional Gate Dial operates a Dimensional Gate which connects our Realm to that of another. Without the intact Dial, one can not travel through the Ether. As for why the Children members search for the artifact, I can only guess, but it's probably not for the betterment of the society as a whole. And.... heh, you are a clever man, I assume. You should have come to the conclusion by yourself already, Agent. After all, the clues are in those documents you hold.”

Dawson angrily stood up. He breathed in heavily, staring daggers at Grisham – but genuinely unable to say anything to the old Invoker's face.

Because he suspected it as much.

There was a very good chance that his master was a member of the Children of the Amber as well.

That the old outfitter was the traitor who left him with the scar on his face.

Volume 1 End​

Surprise!! Another chapter!!

And yeah, it's the finale of the Volume 1. The second volume will resume fairly shortly.

In the meantime.... I'll be writing another novel, one that's quite different from Aeterna Saga. A palette cleanser, if you will.

And no, I'm dropping Aeterna Saga. Nor am I abandoning it. I'll never disrespect you the readers and myself like that - this story is my precious baby and I'll nurture it to the end. That I promise.

See you later, y'all.