Barza Keith, the Lone Shadowdark, sat on a rock in a near-open field. A lonely paper lantern provided him with its miserably inadequate flame. He tenderly rubbed the rough calluses on both of his hands.
He was covered in dirt and grime and was taking a much-deserved break.
A single older man slowly approached, tottering quietly in wooden sandals and carrying his own almost worthless paper lantern. He cleared his throat, eyes full of distrust, "Warrior Lone... You told me you had a message from House Muto?"
The old man of the Kimura household silently observed and silently judged. Most members of the sect viewed Lone and the other Outsiders as curiosities. The man in front of him, however, looked to him with outward and unabashed suspicion.
Boss Tycon suspected the man of being a spy.
That someone as large as Dragan could be so soundless was horrifying. Dragan's gigantic form emerged from the bushes like a ghost, dwarfing the old man near half his size. In a flash of red, Dragan smashed the blade of his axe against the man's side and rammed him violently into a boulder.
As the man screamed in pain, Dragan held his axe steady with his right and struck the man over and over again with his meaty left fist. Finally, he unstuck his weapon, dropping the traitor to the ground, and as a mercy, decapitated the convulsing, frothing at the mouth elder with a downward stroke of his weapon.
Lone slid off of his rock to walk over and inspect Dragan's handiwork. He'd doubted he'd ever have the strength to savage a man so badly.
"That should be the last of 'em... for now, anyroad." Dragan looked pleased, covered in dirt, grime, and blood, just as Lone was.
They were killing people Tycon had identified. Dragan did not question the certainty of Sir Tycon's list. Lone initially held doubts, but they were dispelled more and more with the ease of luring each suspected traitor.
He knelt down, examining the older man, his face frozen in shock. Closing the man's eyes with his fingers, he gave a silent prayer to the gods before beginning to loot the body.
It was macabre work, but the old man no longer had any use for his possessions.
"Mister Dragan, this guy's got a ring, but it's stuck."
"I got'cha, bud." Dragan unsheathed a knife from his back and tossed it over. It stuck, blade down into the dirt, "Use that."
Lone shuddered. Guild Invictus was far more terrible than the Shadowdark Wolves or any adventuring team he'd ever associated with. Their unorthodox methods and training were nightmarish. The level of skill that each and every member had shown was beyond frightening.
He felt as if he were a fish in a lake full of leviathans.
"Eh? What's wrong, man?" Dragan waved, "Cut it off, pocket it. If you get enough from fencing it, you can buy a new sword once we get to Merylsward."
Lone snapped out of his reverie. He was in a daze, "Who... who are you guys?"
Dragan slung his axe over his back and rocked his body back and forth, "Ooooo-wee, what a question, bud..."
"Listeeeen~ Loooone. I like you, man--" The way Dragan's tone of voice changed, ran a chill down Lone's spine.
"But lemme tell ya, that's not the kind of question you wanna hear a real answer to in an adventurer's guild. So I ain't gonna give you a straight answer, buuuut I can give you the gist of it."
He pointed a thumb at his own chest, "We're a bunch of murderers. Bunch of thieves. Power-hungry bastards, all of us. Xenophobes, sometimes... not so much that one in Invictus, but you know what I mean, pal.
"And all of us are running from something we don't wanna face."
"You--," He pointed at Lone, "want something better for yourself."
"Bucket wants to make his dad proud. Horse is wanted for murder, back in the Free Nation. We've all got stories."
Lone turned away from Dragan's gaze as he held the severed finger in his hand. The ring slipped off easily, a hard silver color, and he pocketed it, "I'm sorry, Dragan. It won't happen again."
Dragan's face broke into a wide grin, "Hey man, don't worry about it. My story's just as bad as anyone's. In that regard, no one's really 'better' than the other. We all fight, eat, and shit together."
He moved closer, his voice hushed, "Just... don't step on people's toes. You saw it. Boss nearly killed the kid-- and he likes the kid... If you cross someone's bottom line in our profession... when they snap, it's not pretty."
Lone's heart trembled once more, "What do I do, man?"
"You do as you're told," Dragan shrugged. "You get stronger. I dunno, man-- we're all trying to figure out what we're supposed to do. But I think the bottom line is... don't die."
Lone returned a thoughtful smile, "I haven't been given permission to die."
Dragan raised his eyebrows, before snorting into a laugh, "Wow. You're retarded. But you're alright by me, Lone Shadowdark."
"You're a pretty good guy, yourself, Dragan."
The two shared a friendly smile before tacitly returning to work. Dragan began dragging the body to the hole and Lone followed, carrying two shovels.
...
Tycon entered a room deep underneath the Kimura family manor. Several seals had been smattered in an odd pattern by the door, paper talismans with mana-rich ink, made of magical herbs and inscribed by a Formation Master.
« System, inquiry: Display the room's effects. »
[Private Sanctum. Fourth-Circle Abjuration. The barrier prevents magical and corporeal senses, to include hearing, vision, and mana-sense. Teleportation is blocked into and out of the barrier. Planar travel is blocked within the barrier.]
Fourth-Circle... Tycon was impressed. From his memories, he knew that Third Circle was the limit of humans, with anything higher than that requiring complicated and costly rituals. House Kimura must have invested a considerable amount of resources in the room's creation.
While helping out in the kitchen, Tycon had asked Kagehisa Yumiko about the Patriarch and the concept of closed cultivation. Interested, Tycon requested a room for private training, similar to the conditions the Patriarch was using. The room needed to block auras, be capable of withstanding damage, and most importantly, its privacy needed to be assured.
« System, reset security features of the Ring of Holding. »
[Understood. Warning: Items contained in the ring will be forcibly ejected. Please confirm.]
« Confirmed. »
[Resetting.]
pαпdα-ňᴏνê|·сóМ A flood of items spilled out upon the smooth, stone floor. Simple, but sturdy weapons. Folded, ornate robes. A large chest, nearly the size of a kitchen-stove... and smelling of dried herbs... and a pile of rocks?
« System, detect: Any item radiating an aura OR is unique. »
The system identified several personal effects-- an identification badge, hairpins, specific sets of clothes. Tycon separated the disposable effects, like the badge, into a single pile-- to be burnt and destroyed, later. Anything of value was returned to the ring, to be fenced in Merylsward. Anything inside of the ring couldn't be detected. And the ring, itself, was cleared of its former attunement to Muto Hisato.
Tycon was concerned for any attempts of divination or scrying, spells that could track specific, unique items or auras. Even if he didn't fear House Muto and had no problems posturing in public, he preferred to act privately and with caution on his personal time.
Tycon picked one of the blue rocks up, sensing a radiation of unrefined mana.
Mana rocks... or 'spirit stones' as the cultivators called them. They were useless to him.
He opened the box of herbs... and with the System's help, identified everything inside.
"With this, we have enough herbs for Old Fool's ritual."
He picked up a crimson-bodied spear, the metal below its blade inscribed with an unfamiliar script. It was the only item the System identified as having an aura.
« System, identify. Please and thank you. »
[Lifedrinker Spear. First-Circle Magical Spear. Transfers the vitality of defeated enemies to the user. The spear is currently attuned to House Muto. Attunement must be cleared in order to soul bind. Clear attunement? Y/N?]
« Ah, yes. System, attune the Lifedrinker Spear to Guild Invictus. »
[Understood. Clearing attunement... Attunement cleared. Binding to Guild Invictus...]
The foreign writing below the spear's blade disappeared... and soon was replaced with an embossment of a stylized sun.
[Attunement complete. Soul bind possible. Soul bind? Y/N?]
« No, but thank you. Death to the enemies of Invictus. »
[Understood. Death to the enemies of Invictus.]
"What a useless spear... I suppose I can give it to Bucket." Tycon mused, "At least this one should be harder to break."
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter