Orwen dropped a heavy, frothy mug of ale onto the table in front of Seth.
"It's barely noon," Seth said, eyeing the drink.
"Time means nothing when you're celebrating!" Orwen exclaimed, taking a deep swig from his own ale while sitting at the table with all the others. "That was hell of a show, kid. You had me and Drack sweating in the stands at the end, though," he added, elbowing the bulky man next to him.
After a few minutes of rehashing the best moments of the exhibition and how the empire had tried—and almost managed—to humiliate every single one of the students of Kastal's academies, Orwen's demeanor shifted, and he leaned forward with a serious expression. "Alright, now let's discuss the important things."
The Champions of Chaos' leader placed his palm on the table and a familiar vibration spread around the room, causing aether to stir along Seth's skin.
"Just like the portable one we used in the mountains, the non-disclosure ward here is linked to the contract you signed back in Trogan," Orwen explained. "Your secrets are safe."
The man then turned to the three Oskon-based members currently at the end of the table. "Zyana, Alexis, Nidal. There's something you need to know about our new rookie," he began before pausing for a breath. "He's the son of Ulric Elrod… the man at the very top of both the Gold and Platinum Non-Legacy ladders at the Shenlong Tower."
The reaction was instantaneous. Zyana's azure eyes widened, Alexis' stoic expression cracked, and Nidal froze with his mug halfway to his lips.
Before they could say a word, Orwen nodded toward Seth. "He took a potion to hide his golden Draerian eyes for the matches."
"Why?" Zyana asked, recovering the first of the three. "He's a citizen of Kastal, no? If he were born here, the origin of his parents shouldn't matter. The war's amendments should protect from the empire… or any other nation."
"It matters," Orwen answered, mouth twisted to the side, "because his father is the one who slaughtered the rebellion army in the Silver Sky Rift a decade ago."
The three Oskon members froze once again, as if the revelation had made them forget how to breathe. A heavy silence settled over the room—broken only by the slow, obnoxious slurp of Toren sipping his ale.
"He did it to protect his family," the branch's leader added. "A service to the king in exchange for his silence and a safe place to hide."
Nidal finally lowered his mug. "That… explains a lot," he muttered. "But from what I heard, the Black Reaper and… …made a contract, and they found the people who were looking for that man. Why would they have taken him out but left his son alive?"
All eyes turned to Seth, which caused him to swallow as a faint pang rose in his chest. "Once my father knew the Apex Predators were coming for him, he left to meet them somewhere. I don't know where. He just… never came back."
Orwen frowned. "The Apex Predators?"
Seth gulped, realizing his slip. This was probably something he should have avoided to tell. "It's… a powerful group of Primalists from Draeria."
Lyria, who had been listening silently, leaned forward. "It's a bit of an odd name. But I bet it gets people thinking twice before messing with you."
Toren gulped loudly, then gestured at Nidal. "Oh, and so you're aware, the kid knows about the rebellion, the Houses involved, and… that we played a part in it. No need to hide anything from him."
Nidal's expression tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he turned to Orwen. "Does he also know about… your brother?"
The branch's leader's face darkened—the usual spark in the man's eyes vanished in an instant. "No," he answered, his voice flat. "And he doesn't need to know. It's irrelevant."
Seth glanced at the man, but before he could ask what that was about, the headquarters' heavy oak door swung open with a .
An intense, suffocating aura surged into the room, flooding every part of the first floor. It rooted each member of the Champion of Chaos in place; Seth saw Drack's muscles bulge, fighting to make the man stand, while next to him Orwen tried pressing down on the table with his hands to push himself up. Seth's core screamed at him, filling him with a terrified need to hide, to flee, to do whatever it took to survive.
A hooded figure stepped inside and shut the door behind. The moment the latch clicked, an old, rumbling voice came out. "How can you be so utterly brash… and so stupid! Gaia's grace, why can't you help this empty-skull boy?"
The next second, the suffocating aura vanished, and Seth's own dread disappeared with it—he recognized the speaker.
"Marcus!"
The old man pulled back his hood, revealing his deeply wrinkled face that barely veiled his annoyance. "Fool," he muttered, his gaze landing on Seth. "What if I didn't want everyone here to know my name?"
Seth pressed his lips together as he rubbed his cheek. "Sorry."
"You must be the Alchemist," Orwen said, rising to greet the old man. Yet before he could take a step, Toren sprang from his chair, spilling ale down his tunic as he rushed forward. He seized Marcus' hand with both of his and bowed his head.
"It's an honor to m-meet such a master craftsman, sir! Your Magnificent Clarity Potions… they were ! They proved to me that there truly are no limits to what a man can achieve!"
Seth frowned at the blatant bootlicking—he hadn't realized Toren could be starstruck. Almost at once, Orwen stepped in beside the Artificer, his own tone laden with excessive respect as he said, "It is an honor for me as well, sir. And a privilege to have taken the son of your friend under our wing."
Marcus grimaced, visibly uncomfortable. "You don't have to call me sir… Marcus is fine. And thank you for, well, watching over him."
"What was the aura just now?" Seth asked, remembering how he had felt something similar once before, back in the man's shop.
"An artifact of mine," Marcus replied dismissively. "It automatically reacts to the presence of Gold Wielders. So, those here made it activate itself."
, Seth thought. Yet before he could voice his curiosity, Toren spoke again.
"What brings you to Oskon, si—um Marcus?" the man asked, offering the Alchemist a mug filled to the brim. "Also please, let us extend hospitality. This is one of the best, if not the best ale in Kastal."
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Marcus waved a hand, brushing off the offer. "No, thank you. I've come to borrow this knucklehead that serves you as a recruit for the rest of the day."
"Oh, sure, no problem," Orwen answered almost immediately.
Seth tilted his head. "What for?"
"Because, you idiot, you thought it was a good idea to tell the Empress of Bridan she was a damn steppingstone," Marcus growled. "You left such a… strong impression on the officers of the NEVAK that they'll probably keep an eye on you now. And if they decide to bring in a high-Tier Scholar for whatever reasons, it won't take long before they realize you're not a citizen of Kastal. Then… well, things are going to get even messier. Like they do with you."
Seth thought for a moment with a frown.
"Wait," Zyana chimed in, her azure eyes locking on Seth. "You weren't born in Kastal?"
Seth shook his head. "No, I wasn't."
Professor Reat immediately pinched the bridge of his nose, and an exhausted sigh escaped his lips. "Then you can't participate in the damn war, you fool."
"No, he can," Marcus corrected. "We just have to make him receive his Kastalian citizenship by the Oracle Guild before the war begins."
Orwen silver's brows furrowed. "But there's no outpost of the Oracle Guild in Kastal. And he can't leave the country until his trial against the Faertis House because of the binding inscription."
Marcus exhaled loudly, his shoulders slumping back. "That's why he and I are going to Asethka this afternoon."
"Asethka?" Seth repeated, the name completely foreign to him. "What's that? A city?"
A broad smile crossed Orwen's face. "It's one of the largest Rift Cities in the world."
An hour later, Seth stepped out of a private caravan Marcus had paid to bring them both to Western Castle near Oskon. The small village, surrounded by high stone walls, felt odd, looking more like a giant fortress than a town. They were here for a single reason: the Rift's portal to Asethka, one of the many portals the king had ordered locked down across Kastal's land.
Marcus led them away from the main street and its few passersby, walking down a series of desolated alleys that smelled of decaying wood.
"I don't get it," Seth said, his voice low. "Why come all this way if you won't pay them to let us through?"
According to the Champions of Chaos, the only way through was either to be from one of the Great Houses that were allowed inside—for a period of twenty-four hours and a guarantee to be searched for anything forbidden upon returning—or being rich enough to bribe the entire detachment guarding the portal. Orwen had explained that he did the latter once or twice a year for himself and the other Champions, something that cost a small fortune each time. All this because Kastal's greedy king wanted to prevent people from getting stronger and overthrow him.
"You'll see," Marcus answered without looking at Seth.
As they navigated the labyrinthine backstreets, a question that had been nagging at Seth for quite some time surfaced. "Marcus… Did my father have any regrets? About stopping… you know what… and slaughtering their army? Knowing the king had been causing thousands of people to die from hunger every year?"
Marcus grimaced, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "Yes and no," he finally answered after a moment of hesitation. "Your father… he did many terrible things in his life. For his nation, for his family, and for himself. There was a time when the only thing that mattered to him was power. But then… things changed. So yes, he had regrets. He knew back then it was an awful thing to do. But to him, your mother's life and your safety were worth turning himself into a monster. Especially when he compared that to everything he had done back when he was a part of the Apex Pre—you know who."
"Do you think he would have done it again, if he had known more about what the king would do after?"
"Yes," the Alchemist answered with a sigh. "He loved you and your mother more than anything. He regretted to do it, but he never doubted it was the right decision for his family."
"I see," Seth murmured, following the old man. "It probably makes me a terrible son, but I can't help resenting him for what he did. I always knew the king wasn't exactly the kind of man you'd call just—most nobles in general only care about their damn coins. But after everything I've seen this past year: how he forbids things out of fear, how he oppresses the Adventurers Guild, how half the Great Houses treat commoners like dirt… It feels like killing that army back then, just so his family could have a quiet life, was selfish. And looking at how things turned out… it certainly wasn't worth it."
"No, it wasn't," Marcus agreed. "But self-sacrifice was not a concept in your father's vocabulary. That had to be one of his biggest flaws."
'' Nightmare said through Link. ''
''
They rounded a final corner, where the alley opened into a small, cobbled square. Marcus stopped their walk abruptly, his hand shooting out to Seth's chest. The old Alchemist glanced toward the center of the square, where a dozen guards stood in a loose circle.
They all radiated the formidable power of high-Tier Wielders. Each was clad in thick plate armor, a golden crown gleaming on the chest, and had a rune-covered spear held firmly in their hands. Seth recognized them instantly as the Royal Guard. A shimmering portal hovered in the middle of their group.
Seth wondered for an instant.
Marcus reached into his pouch and took out a small, clear vial. "Drink this," he ordered Seth in a whisper.
"What for?"
"So you don't fall asleep."
Seth frowned for a moment, but then decided to trust the old Alchemist. He uncorked the vial and downed the tasteless liquid, not bothering to cast Intermediate Identify on it. As soon as he was done, Marcus took out another potion, this one a milky-white color. The moment he opened the small bottle, a cloying, sweet smell filled with aether spread through the air. Seth felt a wave of drowsiness wash over him, his head becoming a bit light, but the feeling passed as quickly as it had come.
Ahead of them, the bottle's content had a much different effect. With a series of dull , the Royal Guards collapsed one by one, their heavy plate armor clattering against the cobblestones. The few passersby at the edge of the square slumped to the ground alongside them as well, all victims of a sudden slumber.
Seth stared at the heap of motionless soldiers, his throat going dry. These were the King’s personal guard—Peak-Gold Rank Wielders, the supposed pinnacle of the kingdom's strength. Yet, a single vial of the Alchemist had dropped them like sacks of grain before they could even draw their weapons.
Marcus waved to move forward. "When we get to Asethka, you do exactly what I say. No questions asked. Understood?"
"Understood."
Seth followed the Alchemist past the snoring guards and stepped into the shimmering portal. Space seemed to distort around him, his body being stretched and compressed repeatedly, then a blinding light surged in his vision. As he opened his eyes and squinted against the brightness, he found himself standing on a wide, circular platform of smooth white stone. The area was encircled by ten-foot-tall monoliths, each carved with glowing runes that pulsed with raw aether.
Around him, people were appearing in flashes of light before moving in an orderly stream toward the left. They were all clad in armor or robes that seemed far more expensive than anything Seth had owned previously. Some carried the same aura as Professor Reat, while others made him feel like he was standing next to Orwen and Drack.
A loud voice boomed from ahead, amplified by aether: "Move! Don't stay on the Recall Altar!"
Marcus grabbed Seth's arm and pulled him forward to follow the crowd of people moving off the platform. They walked between a pair of towering monoliths and stepped onto a cobblestone path that led down a slope. Two guards flanked the route, both wearing dark plate armor and armed with halberds. Their presence suffocated Seth just like the empress' had earlier that day.
he exclaimed inwardly, his jaw almost dropping.
"It's an important point of entry for Asethka," Marcus grunted, as if reading his thoughts. "It's normal for the city lord to post two of his strongest soldiers here."
Seth nodded, still trying to process it all. As they walked, he glanced to his left; only then did he realize that they were standing atop a massive hill—one that, somehow, sat entirely within what seemed to be Asethka's walls. Below, sprawling far into the distance, was the city.
And it was far beyond what his mind could comprehend.
It wasn't just larger than Oskon or Trogan; it felt like the ten cities of their size had been crammed together and then built upon for a thousand years. Giant buildings of white marble and dark granite rose so high they seemed to reach for the clouds, some connected by great arches where people moved across like tiny ants from a distance.
Below, countless districts spread out in a breathtaking sight; Seth could see mazes of timber-framed houses with steep slate roofs clustered together, while elsewhere he noticed grand stone manors with sprawling gardens, and giant, skeletal spires of cathedrals adorned by colorful windows.
Massive aqueducts carved paths through the neighborhoods, carrying rivers that cascaded down in numerous waterfalls into the city below. Winged beasts that looked both like giant eagles and griffons circled the tallest tower in the luxurious palace in the middle of the city.
Even from his vantage point, Seth couldn't see all of the outer walls around them.
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21 24!! advanced chapters on !