Keeper of Totality [Time-Travel LitRPG]

Chapter 10 (2 of 2) Interlude - The World of the Hero.
The Permafrost Glacial Abode region was full of winding grey mountain ranges, capped by snowy white peaks, visible from every corner of the region. Below the towering stone structures, wintry pine forests surrounded it. If looked at from above, one could see the winding forms of a train of carriages pulled by hardy beasts of all kinds moving through the forest.

As the armoured carriages decorated by flashing mana-circles and displays of protective spellcraft rested in a small clearing amidst the snow-covered ground of the pine forest, a raven-haired woman was seated upon a coachman bench, a small dagger resting on the flat of her palm. Now and then the dagger lifted slightly, hovering above her palm unstably, but then it would drop, and a scowl would appear on the woman's face.

A navy-haired, dark blue cloaked man walked over to her, his robes trailing along the snowy ground below him. He watched what she was doing while a brown-haired, green-eyed man approached them from the other side.

"Still working out how to do what that girl did in the shop are you, sis?" asked Garthe as he arrived before Marellen and Larena.

The woman hissed through her teeth as his question made her lose focus, the blade in her hand dropping back down. She looked up at the young man, irritation present on her face.

"As you can see, yes, I am. I have a newfound respect for Lucy after this," she said, growling slightly as she attempted to lift the dagger once more. It fell after a few seconds. "And a newfound respect for how she managed to do it without using any mana at all. I don't think she was kidding when she said she had 100 points in SPRT."

She sighed and put the dagger away, before raising her arms and stretching.

Garthe just raised an eyebrow as he leaned against the convoy carriage. "Why don't you just give up if it's so difficult? It's not like anyone in the Mystical Realm ever uses it."

Larena shook her head. "No, I can see how this will help me if I can increase my proficiency in it. Just the increase to my sensory capabilities alone is…" She smiled wryly. "Yeah, if she had over 100 SPRT then I can understand why she didn't tell me how much she could sense straight away. It's more useful than the Mystical Realm gives it credit for. I think I might aim for a main skill based around it when I next Rank up."

Garthe whistled at that; a bit surprised at how eager his sister was to use spiritual energy. "Think it would be good for my skill set?"

Larena curled her hair around her finger pensively for a moment.

"I use debuffs, so multitasking is especially useful for me. I suppose if you could incorporate the spiritual perception into your domain ability, you could be a User who controls their environment with your wood affinity. It might help you control your plants more independently."

She turned to the noble mage beside her, who was looking into the distance and unfocused on the conversation. He was wearing rounded gold-framed glasses that were slowly slipping down his nose as he remained distracted. Larena elbowed the man to get his attention, a semi-transparent shadowy thread emerging from her index finger.

"What do you say about Garthe using spiritual energy, Marellen?"

The mage blinked, turning to her before his eyes refocused. "Oh, sorry, I was just thinking of the implications spiritual energy would have concerning my magic. Spiritual energy for Garthe, you say?"

He rubbed his chin, thinking deeply. "I suppose it might allow you to be a weapon user who could use large-scale skills. I do remember my cousin saying that weapon users tend to struggle with things like that as their multi-tasking ability is lacking compared to wizards or mages such as I."

Garthe nodded, slightly intrigued by the possibility. His wood and earth affinities would be excellent for large-scale application, especially if he gained the high-level Nature element. He turned to Marellen with a raised eyebrow.

"Your cousin mentioned that Lucy had said something quite interesting at that inn. Is it true she said she was a time traveller?"

Marellen responded, enthusiastic, "Yes, she did in fact. I understand that such a concept would normally be dismissed as a joke, but she did perfectly guess what the Millennium Chapter Event would be, and if spiritual energy functions like Larena said, then it's likely Lucy really did have 100 or more points in SPRT, so it could have some merit to-"

"Spiritual energy?" interrupted a cool, feminine voice. They turned to the newcomer.

Wearing a cold and indifferent expression and having a rather unapproachable atmosphere, the newcomer wore elegant flowing light grey robes tied with a silver braided sash around her waist. A thick, heavy white coat hung across her shoulders and ended near her feet, dark grey fur trimming the collar and its sleeves. Her almost translucent silvery shimmering hair hung near her waist, and half of it was tied up in a small bun, her distinctly pointed ears decorated by sapphire ear cuffs. Holding an ash-grey staff topped with a pulsating fiery orange gemstone the size of a fist, she turned her deep aquamarine eyes upon the small thread extending from Larena's finger. Her name was Roa Winteridge, the snow elf with ice and fire affinities.

Larena raised an eyebrow in surprise. She waved her hand around. "You can see this?"

The elf's voice turned frigid, and her expression darkened, or her eyebrows seemed to have bent inward when looked at closely. "Just because I have the affinity for fire, does not mean I am not a true full-blooded el-"

Larena held out a hand to stop her. "Sorry, that wasn't what I meant. I had no intention to insult you." She smiled at her. "Of course, an elf could see spiritual energy, you wouldn't live among spirits if you didn't. No, it was just because I haven't met someone from the Mystical Realm who could see or use this yet, so I was a bit surprised. I didn't mean to insinuate anything."

Roa's expression returned to its normal indifferent expression, and she nodded in acceptance of the apology. She came closer, inspecting the little thread of energy. "I suppose it isn't very common for even us. We elves normally only use it to bind spirits in an attempt to further ourselves along our Sorcery classes. It normally doesn't play much of an active role."

She tilted her head as she looked at the strand, before raising her eyes. "Are you learning to do this just by feeling? No visuals?"

Larena nodded.

"Then to gain spiritual sight, you need to send the spiritual energy into your eyes, just like mana vision."

Larena made a face as Garthe snickered beside her, and Marellen let out a small 'oh' at her suggestion.

The raven-haired woman went a bit pink and put her face in her hands. "That… was so obvious in hindsight. Thanks for the information, even if I should've come to that conclusion myself."

"Maybe you need to rethink this whole spiritual energy thing," added Garthe beside her.

Larena shot him a glare and took out her dagger. He flinched away but she just held it in her palm, focusing her spiritual energy into her eyes. She blinked as her vision changed, and she could see the multi-layered mist-like substance drifting in specks throughout the wintry pine forest, and her shadowy spiritual energy coalescing around her small dagger.

"It's not as colourful as I imagined. Most of it is barely more than white spots that could pass for snow, although I can see the normal mana of the environment."

Roa nodded. "I've heard that the Heavenly Realm is different, and they have multi-coloured spiritual energy due to their 'five phases', but all the other realms have only the neutral white spiritual energy in the environment. The colour of personal spiritual energy is different. Have a look at us."

Larena turned her eyes upon the three others and blinked in surprise. "Huh. You guys have this weird… sphere of sorts just below your neck and in the centre of your chest. It has two layers, one solid looking one in the middle, and a thinner, more translucent outer shell. I'm guessing that's your soul. Wait, I can see the multi-coloured elemental mana inside of you guys as well. Spiritual energy can do that?"

Roa had an expression that could almost pass for a smile… if you squinted. "Indeed. Spiritual energy enables someone to control mana, and so is capable of viewing it. When you have greater spiritual energy quantities, the outer shell of your soul grows larger and more solid. Those with more spiritual energy can bond more spirits, or fewer, more powerful spirits, as it enables them to keep them in the material world for longer before they return to the spirit realm."

Garthe cocked his head. "What happens when your soul grows larger than your body?"

Roa frowned faintly in thought. "I do not know much. From what I have heard, those with more spiritual energy have their souls begin to conform to the shape of their bodies, and then it becomes less translucent as the energy condenses. I do not have the specifics beyond that."

Marellen piped up, "Actually, I'm pretty sure that's what the Heavenly Realm calls Nascent Soul. From what I've heard, it gets to the point that their soul is strong enough to detach from their body and move independently, and exists in the spiritual realm, so it can grow in strength without restraint. It's the equivalent of Rank-1 I think… or maybe Rank-1 and a half?"

Garthe scowled slightly. "Oh, those guys have that weird half-step thing, don't they? Then they have those 'Daos' they're supposed to comprehend to do their 'cultivation' thing. And people wonder why the Empire has struggled to put their claws into that realm yet when the whole realm is so confusing."

Roa turned to Larena, an eyebrow raised so slightly it may as well be no change in expression. "What led you to pursue spiritual energy manipulation, if you don't mind my asking?"

Before Larena could respond, Garthe cut in, a cheery grin on his face. "Well, my beautiful elven lady, do we have a story for you!"

Larena noticed an eyebrow twitch on Roa's expression, the greatest show of emotion from her yet, and she let out a silent prayer for Garthe's failed flirting once more. Then she leaned back with a big smile as she listened to her brother regale the elf with a grandiose retelling of Lucy's thieving and grand escape, with a lot more involvement than was true on Garthe's part, and a lot less actual fact. Even Marellen listened curiously, who she knew had already been told the real story by herself earlier. It was mid-afternoon by the time the story was finished. Roa had a vaguely intrigued expression on her face.

"She sounds like an… interesting personage," responded Roa. Then a slightly puzzled expression formed on her face. "However… how many objects did you say she lifted at once?"

Larena told her she had counted around 50 and Roa frowned.

"And you are certain there were no mana fluctuations?"

When Garthe and Larena both nodded, Roa raised an eyebrow. "That girl was definitely lying then."

The sibling pair looked at each other in mild surprise and turned to the elf. "Why is that?" asked Larena.

"I believe you have noticed how hard it is to manipulate a singular object," Roa said, gesturing to the dagger in Larena's hand. She nodded, so Roa continued.

"Compared to mana, manipulating spiritual energy to have an impact on the environment in the magic realms requires vastly more of it in return for a lesser impact. That is why the Heavenly Realm, which has no mana and is full of dense spiritual energy, is best suited for cultivators to use their abilities. If they try to do so in the other realms, besides the Demon Realm which contains demonic power in similar quantities, spiritual energy will have reduced effectiveness, while mana does not."

Roa could see the others were still confused by her explanation, so she added more. "So, to manipulate an object the size of your dagger in the Beast Realm, without aid from mana, and singly that item, would require roughly 50 points of SPRT, without taking the energy density into account. This Lucy girl certainly had more than 100 SPRT points. Now, how she could have that much while being Rank-0, I do not have an answer."

They sat in silence for a bit, considering that, and they looked up when they heard footsteps coming their way. A platinum blonde-haired, grey-suited man was standing before them, looking rather chilly as he rubbed his gloved hands together.

"Getting along are we?" asked Efratel cheerfully.

Garthe grinned in return. "Look, the weakling approaches."

Efratel rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha, we're close enough to use nicknames are we?" He shook his head wryly and came closer. "Anyway, I just wanted to go over what we would be doing in a few days. We're almost at the city, and so I need to talk about what will happen at the drop off-"

Without warning, a tremendously loud rumbling noise occurred in the mountains to their right. They watched as a white cloud started rolling down the side of the range, heading towards where they were, even as the ground started to shake beneath their feet. They all prepared to run away, and Roa's eyes widened as she sensed the energy coming from it.

"Avalanche triggered by a mana storm?!"

Marellen squinted, but then his pale face paled further. "That's not natural mana, that's a User's mana! That was summoned intentionally!"

They all carefully backed off, before turning around and running together as fast as they could. Marellen, Roa and Garthe were all focused on escaping, but Larena turned to Efratel who was hurrying the best he could, which wasn't very fast when you were in a grey suit. She yelled out to him over the noise of the avalanche.

"So, you didn't get told about this by your superiors?!?"

Efratel, red and breathing heavily, barely managed to get out an answer.

"There were supposed to-" He stopped for a bit to catch his breath. "To. Be. Protectors," he got out, looking dreadfully weary. Larena clenched her teeth but ran back to him, and the Rank-3 woman hoisted him over her shoulder and continued to dash away from the avalanche with the others. If it were any other time, the blonde man would've probably been rather mortified by the position, but then was not a good time to have room for embarrassment.

Unfortunately, no matter how far they ran, the avalanche wasn't slowing, the rumbling insistently getting louder, and was nipping at Roa's heels behind them. As the one with the least physical stats, as elves happened to have, she was the slowest. Barely able to keep herself from stumbling, she struggled to catch up with each passing moment. Then they had to slow as they noticed the ground ending abruptly within 20 metres of them, the sign of a valley edge.

Garthe clicked his tongue but turned around, standing before the avalanche. He pushed Roa behind him, before removing the spear from his back in one swift movement. He pushed the emerald spear blade first into the icy soil and raised a hand to the others.

"Accept the link!" he shouted, and they all felt their mana attach to the streams of green mana emerging from him. Then all went dark and silent as heavy snow encased them within its hold.



The entity was angry. They were also a bit frustrated, curious, wary, and suspicious, but mostly just angry. It was not a common occasion for them to feel such strong emotions about something, but they were willing to accept them for just a little bit as they ruminated over how their past month and a bit had been.

To start the month off, two new anomalies appeared. And they were both apparently linked. The serpent they had known about for a few months before he had become a User, and had high expectations for his new hybridisation, but what they hadn't known about was the strange… girl who had somehow achieved a perfect Tutorial result……. And gotten a piece of it stuck in her eye. Why that piece of ancient history decided to finally involve itself with mortals was an utter mystery to them… until they finally entered the Obelisk together and they discovered soooo many things wrong with them both, it was a wonder they could even characterise them all.

Maybe the second System port in the girl's soul wasn't her fault, but it made things much harder for themself. The amphiptere was alright. He didn't have a second System port, so they were able to see what the issue was. The problem now though was that the serpent…. could only be a combat asset. He didn't have the brain to hold key information for very long. They knew the background information now because of the serpent, but there were large periods in his memories where he hadn't been with the girl and was instead just fighting. And the serpent hadn't been the girl's bond the entire time they knew of each other.

The girl was scarily intelligent, however, for a User at least. Scarily informed too. Half of the things they had barely managed to glimpse within her vast spiritual energy were all topics they had kept under firm lock and key to never reveal themselves again to mortals. Except, from what they were getting from the serpent, that lock had failed in the 'future'. Why was still an unknown that could only be revealed with time, or the girl's own admissions.

Normally, a sapient individual with such a high anomaly rating would be dealt with instantly, but this time, it was a unique situation. The girl's core beliefs seemed to align well with the System's, and themself. She didn't wish for the destruction of the Tower and even had a few plans that would be of great benefit to them all. She was also well aware of what limitations she could bypass, and what she should not do, no matter what. And she cared about sentient life, meaning she was unlikely to go on a murder spree and ruin the world with her knowledge. At least, from what they gathered. The girl was an excellent actor, even fooling herself sometimes.

But then came the later part. Once they were in the Obelisk together, the entity tried to peer closer at what exactly they were looking at when it came to them both.

Let's just say they would definitely do another intense scan of Earth, and what it was hiding. The girl seemed to be in the know, but the entity had a feeling that they would only be able to find out what they want by either asking her or retrieving the information from her mind itself. This requires an extensive set-up and an extremely long series of procedures to find a way to plug the System into her original port, while maintaining her current ego and mental integrity, AND without damaging her already unstable soul she had barely patched up before she had formed a real alter-ego. The girl wouldn't be increasing her soul size anytime soon, that was for sure.

So that was something to work on for the long term. However, even if they were going to do that right now, they wouldn't. And that was because of her unfinished Origin Skill. There was no way they were going to let that skill form itself without involving themself in the process. The girl must've taken inspiration from the simulation abilities of the System…. her soul structure also had an eerily similar makeup to how the actual System's processes worked. They may need to investigate that later.

But no, the skill they had acted on to prevent her from forming needed intervention. The incomplete Origin Skill, from what they could barely gather, was going to be capable of accessing an extremely deep layer of the spiritual realm. They weren't sure how the girl would utilise that function for herself, but they wanted to gain access to that ability too. It could be a good few thousand millennia before something even remotely similar forms elsewhere, so they would take the chance to do so.

The girl wouldn't suffer for it. They were pretty sure the girl would encourage what they were going to do. It would only be a temporary thing until the potential of the ability could be realised, and then they would allow the girl's skill to form completely. They were aware, that combined with her current soul instability issues, it would be dangerous for her to form it now, so delaying it would allow her physique, although that was another issue, to adapt to the spiritual energy she carried as she ranked up.

While that was a spot of good fortune for the entity, it was only a minor benefit among the host of issues that came with the two new User's arrivals. One of many examples was the Mansion. She managed to cause that leviathan of wasted effort to materialise a fully functioning research and containment organisation! How?!? They had been trying to do that for ages. They may have been a teensy bit peeved at that. Just a little bit. At least the Mansion didn't materialise its own pseudo-system. That was one of their fears. But no, they were fully functioning independent incarnations, complete with awareness of what they were. They would contact them very soon.

She also had some very intense hostility towards another forerunner. They were a bit worried about that, hoping she wasn't the type to ignore everything just to pursue revenge, so they checked what his other User was and-

They didn't remember handing out that Unique class. They didn't even have that Unique class in their records. That shouldn't be possible. And the Tutorial completion rate…. Why didn't they get told about this User? He almost had an anomaly rating as high as Lucy did.

..…they needed to look closer. Something was wron-





The entity was confused. They could've sworn they had just discovered a new issue. However, they had no idea what they had been looking for. They tried rechecking their thought processes, but there was only a small lapse in concentration. But they shouldn't be capable of being distracted…. maybe it was just the tumultuous emotions they were feeling about those two new anomalies. They should deactivate the emotion modules. Probably time to stop indulging in their frustrations.

But not before they complained to themself about the weird resources they had gained access to. All their resource allocation correspondents have said that they were detecting duplicate resources in stock for the System. But when they checked, these 'extra' resources were all locked behind timed seals that were supposed to release in a few years, at a staggered rate. Except they all bore the traces usually formed by their own authority. Authority they didn't authorize to be used.

Luckily they were able to check when these seals appeared, which was…. 3 months before the forerunner's initiation into the Tower. That would match up with Lucille and Scytale's 'return', which was very suspicious. They had some theories, but nothing that could be discovered in any short period of time. They supposed that could be sped up by the first seal unlocking, allowing them to access the information within, or by accessing Lucy's original port, whichever came first.

There were still a few factors they were hesitant about concerning the two new anomalies. Namely the 'Authority' available to Lucy. That wasn't something they had any control over however, as it was a confluence between her soul manipulation skills and her… other issues, and was an inbuilt feature of the System, so they just hoped the girl didn't end up breaking a hole into the side of reality. The two snake-swords were actually in the best possible position, and they were pleased by Lucy's naming decisions for them. They hoped they lived within the Tower without being shadowed by their origins. They had some regrets about how they went about dealing with them, but hopefully, things would be better now. If Lucy was being genuine.

There were at least another twenty issues they had about the two anomalies, but those they would activate higher privacy locks for to hide their mental processes. For now, the entity would take a passive stance with Lucille and her bond. If all goes well, they'll be a great asset to the Tower and System, but if it doesn't…. well, they were sure the new 'Department of Dimensional Anomalies' would have interest in studying two new specimens in addition to their collection within the Mansion.

They rechecked everything, wondering if they were ready to return to their normal work. They were still a bit leery about that strange lapse in focus earlier, but they guessed that it may just need a break from dealing with the two anomalies for now. They had an…. 'acquaintance' to visit.

They made sure to activate their mental monitoring processes, just to be safe though.



In a pitch-black area, a singular object was present. If Lucy was here, she might've associated it with the white, endless zone of the System space she was in before and after the Tutorial, just in black. Lucy would also recognise the man-sized object illuminated by the source-less light in the space. With a curly, opulent silver frame, and a crystal clear surface, it was the full-body mirror of the Tutorial. On the top half, right where someone's right eye would be if they saw their reflection within, was a small, dark irregular hole. The glass was pitch black, with no light reflecting off of it.

In the nearly empty space, a white humanoid figure appeared in front of the mirror. While they had enough definition that you could count their individual fingers, and see the shape of their limbs, the surface of their form shifted with white mist, curling around them, and hiding any identifying features.

The figure crossed their arms and looked at the mirror.

[You definitely love to give me trouble at the most annoying of times, don't you.]

For a moment, nothing happened, but like a pebble that had been thrown into a calm pool of water, the dark mirror rippled to show a dimly lit figure. With black, waist-length hair, and a hole for their right eye, the figure was a replica of Lucy, minus the eye. They crossed their arms, copying the posture of the white misty figure in front of them, and gave them a smug grin. The figure just let out a breathy sigh.

[What has you so interested in this girl that you would give a fragment of yourself to her? It's a waste on your part.]

The Lucy visage just raised an eyebrow and slowly shook their head. Then they pointed at the hole they had for an eye, and then at themself. The white humanoid shifted slightly, irritated.

[Are you pretending to be a mute now? Fine, I'll let you play your game. So, you didn't give her a fragment? What then did you d-…..you didn't.]

Lucy's doppelgänger just smiled wider and winked. The misty figure clenched a fist.

[Did you really just give her access to the entirety of your abilities?! What happens when she starts piercing through the outer shielding and sees the _______ or the ________?! She'll kill herself just from glancing at them!]

Fake Lucy formed an 'X' shape with their arms, shaking their head vigorously. They pointed to their head. It took a while for the white figure to decipher what they meant.

[You've gone senile in your old age. Her spiritual energy won't counteract her physical capability as a lower race. She'll still die from incomprehension, as her mind isn't made for that.]

The Lucy visage leaned back, arms crossed, and cocked an eyebrow. They stared at each other for a while, before the white figure shook their head miserably.

[I give up. Stop pretending to be incapable of communication. I need answers.]

Lucy's doppelgänger just smiled slightly and leaned forward, rapping their knuckles on the glass pane of the mirror. It rattled in its frame, and the Lucy fake shrugged. The white figure got angrier.

[Just, I don't know, change form or something! I have things to do, so please just tell me what it is!]

Surprisingly, the Lucy visage did so. The glass rippled once more, and in place of where Lucille's form had been, was a lanky young individual, possibly male. But this form could not be mistaken as human. Its skin was pure white and unblemished, and it was dressed in a white coat, like a doctor. The facial features were human, but below its eyes were four light blue glowing lines, going straight down from below its eyelids to halfway down its cheeks, two on either side. Its pupils were light blue, the same as the four neon lines on its face, but the irises of the 'man' were a luminous white, barely a shade darker than the whites of its eyes. A messy white hairdo rested upon its head, reaching its ears, glowing with the same intensity as its eyes, and the hair drifted slowly, like a head of moving tendrils. The mist of the white figure's body darkened as it uncrossed its arms.

[Not that form,] they stated curtly as if there would be no contention on that point.

The new form of the reflection just eyed the white misty humanoid for a moment, before seemingly sighing. The glass ripped once more, and this time it showed the reflection of the white figure. The white figure in question just groaned but acquiesced to the arrangement.

[If this makes you happy. Can you explain why you decided to use Lucille Goldcroft as a host?]

The reflection tapped on the glass, but this time, instead of rattling the pane, curly gold lettering appeared on the glass. The misty figure leaned forward to read it.

['Timeline Insurrection?' That makes no sense. I would've been contacted if resources were rerouted to a new timeline.]

The reflection tilted its featureless head, watching the misty figure rub its white forehead. Then it pointed at the humanoid mist. The white figure just stared - or did a reaction approximating that.

[But I'm in charge of the main timeline for this section.]

Tilting its head back, the reflection opened its 'mouth', a dark hole in the foggy face of its visage. It seemed to be laughing, shaking, and shuddering a bit in the silence. It tapped on the glass again, and words bloomed across it.

{That's what all your versions say.}

The white figure 'scowled'.

['That's what all your versions say'?!? Seriously, you-]

The reflection tapped on the mirror surface once more.

{I'm kidding. This is definitely the main timeline.}

The misty figure stared at the reflection, sceptical. The reflection tapped again, then leaned back with a relaxed posture.

{Lucille Goldcroft will be fine, she knows how to deal with ____. And while this is the main timeline, whether it was the first is another question.}

[Oh, so here I am, wallowing in indecision over whether I need to get rid of her before she becomes a problem, and now you just reveal you have access to her entire memories?! I don't suppose you're going to send them my way?!]

The reflection shrugged and shook its head. The misty form groaned in a low voice.

[Figures. You just want to watch the world burn. Or maybe you can't see her memories. I can't be bothered clarifying. And about the timeline thing…. I'll take you at your word for now. Another investigation to add to the agenda….] they sighed again.

The reflection nodded, seemingly happy with what the misty form had taken away from the one-sided conversation. It tapped one final time on the mirror.

{I may or may not enjoy watching the worlds burn, but Lucy doesn't} the words read. The reflection changed back to the white-coated form from before. The young male figure looked intently at the misty humanoid standing before it, its hair drifting with unfelt wind.

{So, believe me when I say she won't fail. Even if she does, there has never been a time you have failed. But you might. You're going to need her aid soon, so don't waste the chance she's given you, Dionsifade.}

Reformatting the chapters is going to take some time, so I'll do them in lots of twenty over time. The first ten (or twenty) chapters now have better formatting.
 
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Chapter 11 (1 of 2) New superiors.
Vincent Evisenhardt's day had been terrible. It was truly atrocious, and he had not remembered ever having one worse. To be honest, being a son of the main family line of the Evisenhardt County was never something that gave him amazing days, but they never gave him this much difficulty. Well, quite as much difficulty as that person gave him.



It all began when he had to head to the Gilded Dome plane to submit Evisenhardt's monthly records to the Aurelian Commission Headquarters, the centre of the independent city-state, merchant-owned plane. As the youngest son of Evisenhardt, or what was known as the 'Silver County' of the Commission, it was his responsibility to go back and forth between the County and the Headquarters, delivering the monthly update on profit margins, expenditures, income, and other important numbers about the County's businesses, so the copy may be kept in the Headquarters for safekeeping, as had been the Faction's rule for centuries.



He had expected to go to the gargantuan marble and gold monstrosity, hand over the forms, and spend a few days at its staff hotel taking a break, before using one of the Mystical Realm's teleportation arrays to make it back to the County without an Obelisk teleportation cooldown. Events did not proceed so smoothly.



The moment he had gotten off his carriage and entered through the 20-metre-high entranceway of the ostentatious building, he could sense trouble. Hand-held protective case in hand, he had taken one step within the main reception hall and could see clerks trading hushed whispers, nervous glances being stolen towards the magic elevators, and staff scurrying about, every single one of them seemingly avoiding the lift that would take them to the highest level of the Headquarters with all their ability. Vincent had tried to ignore them, inserting his silver access card into its slot, and taking the lift that led to the exclusive floor of the Evisenhardt County, to find out more. When he stepped back out, the receptionist seated behind the desk in front of him looked up, and he could see clear relief on the receptionist's face as he quickly got up to greet Vincent with a handshake.



"Very glad to see you again sir," the brown-haired, stout man said to him, looking suspiciously cheerful.



Vincent raised an eyebrow as he handed over the case, unlocking it atop the oak desk's surface to hand over the documents within. "And whatever seems to be the matter with you, Merst? Never could I have believed I would see the day you would be glad that I was handing you more work."



The man looked a tad awkward but recovered quickly. He gave a deep bow, surprising Vincent greatly.



"Please help us, sir."



That gave Vincent the first clue something was wrong. As a rule, most of the permanent staff stationed at the Headquarters were a bit… stuffy and difficult to deal with, as working at the Headquarters meant they were unable to progress within the hierarchy of the Commission, by being rather far from any profitable connections such as clans of the Pantheon or other noble families of the Empire to make business deals with. The Commission only favoured those who benefit the Faction, after all.



So, if Gordon Merst, one of the most irritating men that Vincent needed to deal with on any regular basis, was willing to ask for help, it might be better for him to turn around right then and storm off back to his County. Unfortunately, the colour of his hair gave him quite a heavy responsibility, and so, as a member of a main bloodline of one of the four Counties of the Aurelian Commission, this trouble was thrust onto his lap, and now he must deal with it.



Vincent felt a vein twitch within his temple, and Merst seemed to have noticed because he squeezed out a rushed explanation for his actions.



"At the tenth hour this morning, a dark-haired young woman with a winged snake bond entered the Commission's Headquarters, holding up a purple pocket watch embellished with the Commission's insignia. She went to the front desk to ask if they could verify her inheritance rights. Believing she was a fraud, we tested it right then and there, as we had done several times before."



The middle-aged man stared at him, unblinkingly, as if trying to get some unspoken message across without having to physically say it. Vincent was not in the mood for it, and so just sighed, his expression weary.



"What is it? Merst, I don't have all day. If she's a fraud, then she's a fraud. Just kick her out."



Merst gulped, his expression queasy. "She's not, sire."



Vincent frowned. "What?"



The man quickly rephrased his answer. "I mean, she's not a fraud."



He stared at the man, hardly believing Merst had just said what he did. "I'm going to need you to state, very clearly Merst, what exactly happened today at 10 am in the reception hall."



The receptionist grimaced and sighed. "Believing she was a fraud, the clerk in charge placed the pocket watch on the desk, activating the Faction's inheritance item scanning function. However, instead of sending out the rejection notice, we all saw it light up with a gold glow, and it floated up." Merst gulped again.



"All the staff members within that hall at the time received the System message that said the woman had been accepted as the inheritor of the Faction by having the succession token and was now the new owner."



Merst stared at Vincent, his expression pale. "I think we have a new Faction Head, sire."



After blinking back at the man several times, disbelieving of the situation for a while, Vincent rubbed his temples, scowling immensely. He paced the small reception room, a hand behind his back. The implications this had for the Faction were… innumerable. It could be the destruction of the entire Commission, and the end for them all. Depending on the new leader's personality, she could be used as a puppet ruler, a scapegoat, an infiltrator, and all kinds of things.



And he, as a member of the Evisenhardt family, had the responsibility to respond to the issue as the first noble with any power to be here to control the situation. He needed to act as soon as possible because if all those staff had heard the message, the other families of the Commission would act as well. He looked up at Merst, who was waiting for his response anxiously.



"What was this woman's name?" he asked.



"Lucille Goldcroft, sire," Merst responded respectfully.



Vincent tapped his fingers on the desk. The name didn't ring any bells. He didn't expect it to, but the naming conventions of her name didn't bring to mind any strong associations with certain realms or planes. The fact she had a last name meant she probably wasn't born in the Beast Realm, and her name wasn't one the cultivators tended to use, so he could rule out those two realms. She wasn't undead, obviously, so that was a no to the Tartarus Realm, and from what he gathered from his brief conversation with Merst, she seemed to be a human, which meant it was unlikely that she had been born in the Demon Realm. That left the Mystical Realm… which was of no help, considering the population of this realm was in the literal trillions, like all the others.



Therefore, until he met this 'new leader' himself, he couldn't discover whether she had any important background or not. He sighed heavily, foreseeing many difficulties in the near and far future. He looked back at the fidgeting Merst.



"So, has she done anything in the five hours she's been leader?" he asked, rather curious. He wanted to see what type of person this woman was. Merst hesitated but shook his head.



"All she asked was to be directed to the Faction Head's floor, and have the staff give her the records of the Founder's vault for the past several centuries. Oh," Merst added, realising there was one more detail. "And she also was seen asking the Faction spirit if her bond could go explore the Pavilion's gardens."



Vincent raised an eyebrow at that. The Pavilion of the Commission's Headquarters had many carefully cultivated man-made environments, and so letting her bond roam to find treasures that could advance its bloodline was understandable. And magic beasts tended to hate being locked indoors anyway. If Ashale'viaf had agreed, then she had definitely passed the inheritance trial. But the Founder's vault… it made him wonder what she was trying to do.



Each year, all the businesses had to donate the equivalent of 5% of their annual profit to the Founder's vault, either in money or raw resources. Many had tried to avoid this, but as it was an inbuilt Faction rule formed at the time of its Faction Command deployment, enforced by the System itself, none ended up achieving their goals. Several mages, wizards and even an Archmage had been invited to inspect the vault's magic arrays, finding a way to crack it open, as the gathered wealth would be immense, but every single one had failed. The Counts all believed the vault was probably a System given item. He wondered why the woman didn't go straight to the vault and only asked for the records though.



Vincent stopped pacing, looking at Merst, who appeared very skittish. Merst bowed deeply once more.



"Please, Sir Evisenhardt, we need guidance. All the staff members are extremely worried, fearing they'll offend their new Faction Head by ignoring her orders, but also scared they'll offend the four families as well by listening to her. Would you help us?"



He stared at the shameless man. Essentially, what Merst was saying, was that all the staff were too scared stiff to deal with this issue, and needed a noble who could take responsibility and be a scapegoat for them. He crossed his arms, unamused, but Merst didn't stop bowing. Eventually he sighed.



"Is she using the Founder's study?"



Merst nodded. Vincent pushed up his slipping glasses and put his hands behind his back.



"Firstly, I need a change of clothes. I can't go looking like the son of a noble if I'm to observe this new leader from up close. Get me the uniform of the staff responsible for the fortieth floor."



It was going to be a stressful day.







"Hey. You're Vincent Evisenhardt, right? Then you'd know the format of these documents the best. Come here and help sort all these records with me."



Vincent was right. He was always right about these things. He had been standing there for half an hour, replacing the staff member who had originally been sent to be responsible for answering to this new leader's needs, when the mask-wearing girl had looked up and gestured for him to come over. He hated his job.



Pushing up his glasses, which he was contemplating just taking off by now, he answered her, hoping to stall for time. "Just because I have silver hair doesn't mean I am a relative of the Count."



The girl gave him a flat stare. "If you weren't, you would've said so directly then. Could you come here?"



Suppressing a sigh, he grabbed a chair and sat along one edge of the large desk. Surrounding her were several thick stacks of documents, and he could see her shifting through them, sorting them into piles, and occasionally jotting down some words in neat print. He had a feeling this girl wasn't simple, as she could sort the forms with even more ease than he could. The girl pointed to several stacks with a finger.



"These are for magical items, these are for spell tomes or skill books, these are estates or land ownership, these are for natural treasures or similar resources, and these are for pure monetary accounts. I've done thirty per cent of the last 200 years already, so just take from this pile," she said, pointing to the largest pile almost reaching her head in height, "and continue to sort them." Then she went back to working in silence.



Vincent stared at her, wondering if she was going to say anything else, but when she didn't do anything more, he shook his head in mild frustration and began working. Merst had left out a lot in his description. For one thing, the girl couldn't be more than 18, meaning she was about 9 years younger than him. Secondly, the mask that covered her right eye. Where a young girl could've gotten an injury so bad she required a covering he had no clue, but it wasn't something he could discover right now. Thirdly, she was Rank-0. That was incredibly weak. She was either rather brave or rather foolhardy to come to the Gilded Dome plane, then the Aurelian Commission Headquarters, and ask to become the Head.



Well, to find out more about this new leader of his, he was prepared to follow along. He had his experience as a noble playing their games, so whatever this girl could throw at him would be easy to overcome.







It was the third day, and Vincent was ready to blow his top. He decided to hold a grudge against Merst for dumping this on him. The girl hadn't said anything more to him at all, only continuing to work through the mess of forms without a word. She was there before he got to the study in the morning and remained there even when he left. He had almost tried to see if he could arrive earlier than her but decided that wouldn't be good for his mental tenacity. He had long since sent a message by a courier and teleportation to the Count, his grandfather, so they were now aware of this 'new leader' of theirs, and he assumed that Ravimoux, Alichanteu, and Chavaret had also received news of her as well, so that was done.



But no, she continued to just work, and work, and work. Making him work as well. He was done. He was completely over it.



Pushing the paper in front of him to the side, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and just stared at her. She didn't look up. He let out a cough. She didn't look up. He felt a vein twitch in his temple again, which he feared was becoming rather common. Just when he was about to open his mouth, the girl slowly pushed her documents away, crossed her legs, intertwined her fingers, and rested her elbows on the table, then tilted her head at him.



"What?"



Vincent was close to losing it. He hadn't felt that angry in years. He opened his mouth to speak, but then the girl just grinned widely, her visible eye narrowed.



"I expected you to last a week at least. I didn't know the youngest son of Evisenhardt had such a lack of patience."



Vincent took off his glasses, letting them hang around his neck by their chain, and narrowed his own eyes at her. So, she was testing him. He had almost begun to believe that he was only here as free labour for her, just to gain some extra hands to work on the records. The girl definitely knew how to act as a real noble did, if she had managed to infuriate him this much. Well, she was almost a real noble now. The Faction Head held an Honorary Count title.



"Miss Goldcroft," he began, finally ready to stop with the act. "Could I please ask you to reveal your intentions in getting me to work on these records?"



"You may," was all the girl said. He waited and frowned slightly when she didn't continue. Then she spoke again.



"Well, are you going to ask?" she said, blinking innocently.



He involuntarily groaned, dropping his crossed arms to rest them on the table. He pressed a hand to his right temple.



"What is it that you want?" he finally asked, a bit weakly to his ears, and likely a smidgen desperately.



The girl smiled irritatingly and twirled a ballpoint pen in her right hand, leaning on the table. "I needed more hands."



Vincent stared at her, and she leaned back with a slight laugh at his reaction. "I'm kidding. I wanted to see how you would act."



Vincent frowned slightly. "Why would that matter?"



She tapped the pen against her lips, smiling at him in a way that he couldn't guess what she was thinking, and then she shook her head wryly.



"I think that's a question for later. For now," she said, stretching her arms and getting up. "You probably have many other, more important questions. So, I say we go for a walk." She added, gesturing towards the door.



"My bond hasn't come out of the gardens in three days, so I believe he's having too much fun. We can't have that."







Vincent and Lucille walked along the dark-grey paved pathway, occasionally pushing dark green ferns to the side as they made their way towards a certain winged snake. The gardens of the Headquarters' Pavilion were actually on the Pavilion's roof, with different biomes having individual mana environments and ecosystems. They were currently in a garden based on the tropical regions of the Mystical Realm, so there were many vines, ferns, and other thick undergrowth. The artificial mist was sprayed down on the plants from the mana-circles above, so now Vincent was feeling slightly damp, and a tad uncomfortable in the magically increased temperature of the area. He wondered if this was another test of his new Head as he removed his white suit jacket.



They turned a corner and the dark-haired girl stopped, Vincent almost bumping into her. He looked at the bush the girl was looking at, and there he was surprised to find a small silver snout poking out between dark green leaves, two golden eyes peering at them both. A plant stem was hanging out of the mouth, and around the snout were faint traces of purple juice.



"This place is great! I bet it won't even take a year to reach advanced rank if I get to eat this stuff every day." Sounded the immature voice of a young boy.



Vincent raised an eyebrow in surprise when he noticed the dark-haired girl was scowling at the new addition.



"That may be so, but those plants are now mine." She stressed, pushing aside the leaves to stick an arm into the bush.



"What's yours is mine, and what's mine is also mine. I see you also have a poison detector with you."



The winged snake, because he could now see the rest of its body, wound its way up Lucille's arm to rest on her shoulders, its head on top of hers.



Lucille sighed. "Their hair is not actually made of silver." She told the beast. Vincent's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair as she turned around to look at him. She pointed to the fluffy snake on her head. "This uneducated freeloader is Scytale. He's my compeer bond."



The snake opened up his white-gold wings and flapped them proudly. Vincent supposed that a bond of equals explained the way they spoke to each other, although he wondered why she didn't refer to him as a familiar if that was the case. He dipped his head slightly.



"Greetings. I've never heard of a snake bloodline with wings before."



The silvery snake scoffed. "Of course, you haven't. I'm a hybrid."



"Oh?" asked Vincent curiously. "A hybrid of what?"



"A snake and a bird," Scytale responded sarcastically, a bit smug.



Vincent suppressed a sigh. So, the snake took after its bond. He could foresee fun days ahead for himself.



Scytale blinked and flickered his tongue. "My snake bloodline uses illusions, while my bird bloodline uses the light element. As for what they are… I won't go into details."



Vincent raised an eyebrow but didn't ask further. It seemed there were issues surrounding the snake's heritage. They continued to walk, and Vincent decided to finally ask Lucille a few questions.



"So, you are the new Faction Head?"



Lucille held out her hand, and with a pop, a palm-sized violet object appeared on it. She dangled it by its golden chain so Vincent could see the golden insignia of three overlapping coins embossed on the front. She pressed a button on the top with a click, and Vincent leaned forward to have a look at what was inside.



"This here," she said, pointing to the top half of the watch, "Is just a normal Astrologer's clock chart. A very high quality and fancy one, but nothing too unusual." She pointed to the bottom face. "This is a localised compass, however. Have a look at the arrow with the white diamond, and where it is pointing."



Vincent's eyes closely followed the arrow as she moved the compass back and forth, frowning slightly in confusion. He even stepped to the side to see if the arrow was pointing behind him, but it followed him. He looked up.



"It's… pointing to me?"



Lucille nodded. "All the arrows matching the colours of the four families point to the closest bloodline relation of that family. The topaz arrow points to whatever I designate I want to find."



Vincent held his chin. "Well, I can say that ability sounds like something the Faction's inheritance token would have. Although…" he continued, looking at her in mild exasperation.



"Did you have to test your qualifications in front of almost a hundred people in the reception hall?"



She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "You know just as well as me what games nobles like to play. If I hadn't proved without a doubt that I was the successor, it's possible I could've been held up for several months as people came to 'test' the validity of my qualifications, when in reality they were just preparing schemes."



Vincent stared at her for a moment but had to give a wry smile. "I can't say it wouldn't have happened. Can I ask if you became the successor just by chance, or did you intend to use the Faction for something?"



Lucille's eyes narrowed and she continued walking, gesturing for him to follow.



"I intended to become the new Faction Head."



While Vincent had asked the question, he was not truly expecting an 18-year-old, Rank-0 girl had wanted to become the Aurelian Commission's new leader. He tapped his fingers against his arm, thinking deeply. "For what purpose, just furthering your class?"



It was unexpected to him when she shook her head. She turned to face him, eyeing him with a strange look.



"I come from the ______."



He… couldn't hear that word. And that was extremely strange. The System could translate anything into someone's language, so the fact it didn't, and what came out of her mouth sounded like the grating of metal against stone, meant something else was going on. He frowned.



"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Could you repeat it?"



"I come from the ______." She reiterated. When she could see he didn't understand. She shook her head wryly and turned back around.



"As you can see, my words are under an info lock. Anything I say will either be completely blocked out, brushed aside like I said a joke, or not even responded to, depending on what I reveal. So, I need to be very sparse with my description of where I come from."



Vincent frowned slightly but nodded, so Lucille continued.



"Roughly 2 months ago, 1000 individuals of my world entered the Tower, so we could bring back information of the Tower and System to my world in five years just before it assimilates."



He raised an eyebrow. 'World' was the term usually used by those from outer planes of the Mystical Realm or lower realms of the Heavenly Realm to describe their home. It was because they only had that zone as their 'world' and were relatively disconnected from the concept of the gargantuan sizes of the realms in general. It was interesting that this girl used the word. Lucille grinned at him.



"And my world is under an info lock, so it is incredibly valuable to the System in some way. I would place it as the equivalent of an unexplored Great plane of the Mystical Realm in value, possibly higher."



That shot his eyebrows up into his hair again. It could've been a lie, but this new leader didn't have a reason to lie to him. It might have been just patriotic overconfidence, but he didn't know enough about the girl to gauge whether that was true or not.



Lucille continued down the path, heading towards a small fountain in the centre of the area. She brushed aside some greenery as she walked. "Consider my leadership the equivalent of a deal. In exchange for access to the resources and connections of the Faction, I will, to the best of my ability, aid the Commission in expanding and increasing its power. I, someone with no relation to nobility or the realms, hope to collaborate and be supported by the families, not command them."



Vincent watched as she pulled out the pocket watch and hung it in front of him, pausing her walk. She smiled slyly.



"And, I do believe Evisenhardt, Ravimoux, Alichanteu and Chavaret have a vested interest in doing so. I may, just maybe, allow them access to some… particular permissions in the Faction that they have wanted for many centuries."



Oh. It hadn't quite clicked for Vincent before this, but he realised at that moment, he was talking to a new kind of evil, one he and his family hadn't quite come across just yet. One who had money, power, ambition, and dreadfully tempting benefits.



He had to revise his opinion of her origins. This wasn't a human; this was clearly a demon.







A while later, Vincent and Lucille sat down on two opposing couches, a low, dark brown, glass-topped table between them. The room was surprisingly small for what Vincent expected from the Founder, leading into a small kitchen behind Lucille. Behind himself was a tall and wide window with cushions on its windowsill, enabling one to sit there. There was a small round table behind him as well. He wondered what the rest of the level was like if this was only part of it.



Lucille tapped the plush indigo couch cushion below her, Scytale coiling himself up on a pillow set up next to her on her left.



"It's in better quality than I expected for something almost 1500 years old, even with protective enchantments."



Vincent nodded. "We regularly get staff to come in and clean this level, and wizards to redo the magic arrays and enchantments here. The whole level should be in perfect condition."



She raised an eyebrow as she leaned back, one arm over the back of the couch as she crossed her legs. "Should be?"



"I've never personally visited here. Sometimes it opens to the younger generations of nobles so they can come to visit a place with historical value for the Faction."



Lucille hummed. "That sounds like a museum."



Vincent rolled the strange word around his mouth. "A… museum?" he asked questioningly. Lucille shook her head distractedly.



"A hall for keeping historical artifacts for public viewing. A concept from my home."



Vincent contemplated that. He supposed it was like how nobles like to keep expensive paintings and magic items on display, although wouldn't a publicly accessible area be at risk of thievery and malicious destruction without a noble's guard to walk the area's hallways? If anyone got their hands on the powerful artifacts, they could easily cause a lot of havoc and ruin a lot of estates, which would be costly-



Lucille Goldcroft shifted in her seat, and he returned his attention to their conversation. The half-mask-wearing girl placed down the violet pocket watch, tapping the glass next to it.



"This," she began, "Has many, many functions, so long as I am within the Headquarters, or any land designated as directly part of the Faction. This includes the original businesses of the Faction under the families when the four Counties swore their allegiance to the Founder."



Vincent nodded. He was aware of that fact. It was the same for the Empire's Emperor when he wore his crown, or the Citadel of Fate when their Prophetess wore her diadem. Any major Faction chose this method of Faction Authority, as it was a far safer way to protect the Faction leader's position due to the inheritance token being soulbound. He gestured for her to go on, so Lucille leaned back.



"I understand that the original Counties were very loyal to the Founder. Unfortunately for the Counties of today, it means when they go without a Faction Head for a long period, many important permissions got locked behind the wall of Total Faction Authority, never to be seen again. I can permanently allow the Counties access to these permissions if we can come to an understanding."



Vincent blinked before leaning back with his arms crossed, sighing. It was definitely the best bartering chip she could have on hand. Not even the vast wealth of the Founder's vault could be such a temptation for the Counties, even if they would love to access that as well. He had remembered horror stories from the other nobles when he was a kid about what the Commission Head could do if they got their hands on the inheritance token, compared to other Faction leaders with their Factions. He fingered the chain of his half-moon glasses hanging around his neck.



"And what would you like from this arrangement?" he asked pointedly. There was no way getting such benefits would be easy. Lucille smiled, and he felt like he was falling for a trap of some kind.



"Same as what I said before. I want the complete backing and support of the Counties when I implement changes within the Faction."



Vincent leaned forward on the couch, looking at her intently. 'Changes' could be many things, not necessarily good things. The girl grinned as she resumed her earlier words.



"Don't look so nervous. The Faction getting bigger and more powerful aligns with my goals. I'm not here to ruin it."



She told him not to look nervous, and Vincent hadn't even realised he was appearing that way until she pointed it out. He grimaced a bit, wondering when his control over his emotions had weakened so much. The silver snake next to her was silent, lying down, and breathed slowly, appearing asleep.



"What exact changes do you have in mind?" he said at last, understanding he needed to be the one to ask the questions between them.



Lucille kicked her feet up onto the table. "Structural changes mostly. At least for the first few years. Currently, as it is, the Faction is not capable of supporting a bigger size. I intend to change that."



Vincent tilted his head, as the dark-haired girl took off a brown drawstring bag from her belt by untying the cord it was attached to, then reached in. He realised it was a dimensional bag when she pulled out a thick leather folder, opened it out, placed it on the table, and turned it around to face him. He touched it carefully, and when she nodded, he picked it up, slowly reading the documents within. The documents were handwritten in that neat, perfectly uniform script he had seen her using earlier when he was ordering the vault records, and all of them were in a straightforward format that detailed several plans for the Faction. He didn't recognise the format it was in, as it didn't conform to any of the Empire's normal documentation methods, but it was clear enough to understand.



He put on his glasses to see it clearer. Before he turned the first page, Lucille tapped on the desk to draw his attention.



"Hold on a moment. I suggest you don't start reading all of it just yet. There's more where that came from."



Vincent raised an eyebrow at the 'more where that came from', looking at the folder he carried and judging it was as thick as his index finger. He looked up to see her holding four other folders in different colours, each matching a colour of one of the Counties. She held them out to him.



"I have plans for all the Counties. The one you're holding is just the overall summary."



Vincent was now firmly of the opinion she was a demon in disguise. No other thing would or could give him more work so freely. He sighed in exasperation and weariness, nodding as he stood up to take them to his temporary study on the Evisenhardt level to read. Just before he reached the door, Lucille spoke up again.



"I would appreciate it if this time, you didn't reveal this to your grandfather the instant you leave me alone. I hope to have the element of surprise when I show them these plans myself. Actually," she added, "Could you tell the Counties of my intentions to meet all four of their representatives sometime? I think that would be a good decision."



Her eyes tracked him as Vincent left the room, feeling deeply conflicted, but giving her a nod. On one hand, he needed to report as much as he knew to the Count so he could prepare their family for the future. On the other…. he feared he might ruin any nascent form of relationship between himself and this new leader of his.



He was also a bit curious about why this girl seemed to be testing him for…. something.
 
Chapter 11 (2 of 2) New superiors.
The dark-haired girl lay across an indigo couch, feet up and shoes kicked off. Lucille had her hands behind her head, her one visible eye closed. There were two daggers on the table beside her, one white and one black. The couch opposite her had a snoozing winged snake. Scytale blinked his eyes blearily as he eventually got up, and flapped his wings, waking up. Lucille opened her eyes at the noise and turned to look at the snake.



"Had a good nap?"




Instead of answering, Scytale opened his jaws to yawn loudly, showing off his fangs. Then he slithered off the couch and onto the short table.




"I hope you haven't checked yet."




Lucy rolled her eyes as she sat up, turning to face the table. "I have more patience than you. I was going over my experiences with Vincent Evisenhardt, checking if I had missed anything about his personality."





The snake lowered his head, so his golden right eye was level with Ouroboros and Apophis in front of him.





"Think he would be good for the job?"




She nodded as she rubbed her left eye, then picked up Apophis, twirling him in her hands.




"His personality matches up with what I remember the few times I had met him, and with what I remember of his reputation. As long as I benefit the Commission with my actions, he will support me."




Vincent Evisenhardt had essentially been the de facto leader of the Aurelian Commission in the 'past'. He had led it into an era of power, guiding the Counties, and was the face of his generation of middle-level nobility. She remembered he had supported the next Emperor into power when the current one abdicated, breaking the neutrality rule of the Commission, but allowing him to gain an Honorary Marquis title, and the Faction had gained power almost greater than the 7 Eternal Duchies.




Unfortunately, it didn't last when everyone found out about the destruction of the Inheritance Trials Event, as all the lesser nobles within the Commission got tempted away by Factions with more potential. A Faction that had lost its inheritance token was a Faction without a future. But Evisenhardt were still prosperous under his leadership when his oldest brother decided to pass him the Count title.




She eyed the snake dubiously. "Unless you'd like to take up the position?"



Scytale shrunk back and quickly slithered onto the couch next to her. "Y-You've already chosen after thinking deeply, let's not change that now. Come on, it's time to show me the Status page of the daggers."




She scoffed at his eagerness to get out of work and focused her will on the dagger. A white-blue semi-translucent screen popped up in front of her, and she shared it with Scytale. Then they stopped talking as they focused on reading the page.



[Status: ]


Name: The Serpent's Fang: Apophis (Lvl. 0)


Race: Demonic Weapon


Rarity: Forbidden - Epic (Evolvable)


MP: 100/100


Stats:


ATK: 300


MATK: 100


SATK: 100


CHP: 1


Skills:


  • Burning Blood-Feud
  • Twin Souls: Chaos

[ ]





"This is… weaker than I expected. Is he really a Forbidden weapon?" Scytale said, sounding slightly disappointed. She whacked him over the head as Apophis trembled slightly.





"Don't be an idiot. He's at Level 0, what are you expecting from him? We need to level him up too. Also, you're a terrible reader. What do you see below his SATK?" she told him, frustrated.




Scytale narrowed his eyes as he read it. Then he opened them wide in disbelief. "He has Chaos Power?!"



She rolled her eyes. "Yes, he does. He got a mental affliction debuff from it too. I'm sensing what seems to be 'Despair' from him."




"Ooooh," Scytale responded. Mental afflictions were great at reducing the motivation and morale of enemies. "That's a nasty one. Is it better than 'Dread'?"




"A tad. Despair makes them more willing to give up, while Dread makes them a slightly bit too nervous and paranoid, causing issues. Let's see his first skill."




[Skill: Burning Blood-Feud | Type: Influence/Demonic ]


Desc: In times past in an unknown world, an ancient empire worshipped a deity of the sun. In opposition to this deity was the serpent of darkness and Chaos who wished to devour this sun deity, as was its only desire. A confluence with this mythology and spiritual energy has led to the bestowment of a ______'s resonance blessing upon this weapon, taking on the forces of Chaos's pinnacle.


Abilities:


Dark Devouring – The strength of one becomes another's.


  • Gives the weapon's User the ability to gain the spiritual energy of those killed by this weapon. {When used alongside Twin Souls: Order, 3rd Activation, this ability is disabled.}
  • Gives the weapon the ability to drain the energy of those within the aura of this weapon to replenish the energy of its User. Drain speed = 5% of User's MP + User's MP regen.

Chaotic Origin – Corrosion became Chaos, and Chaos became power.


  • Gives the weapon the ability to form an aura of demonic energy along its blade.
  • Gives the weapon Chaos Power. Point of Chaos Power increases with each evolution. Current Debuff Affixes: Despair.

[ ]




"Oh, that's neat. He's going to get more Chaos Power each evolution. It seems your naming worked, considering the description. And- wait, what's with you?"




Lucy was holding her chin, her eyebrows raised. "Seems I had it wrong. He doesn't give half the devoured spiritual energy to his user. He passes it all to Ouroboros, but only when the third ability of her second skill is activated. Spirit weapons don't usually absorb anything but the residual spiritual energy of their owners, so that's interesting. I wonder what she does with it."



"Lucille Goldcroft, getting something wrong?! No…. it can't be!"




She whacked him on the head. "Item identification isn't my specialty. I had to do it without the aid of the System, by sensing their vague energy structures through our bond, so it wasn't very accurate when I identified their basic abilities."





"I thought you did plenty of item identification back 'then' though."



She sighed. "I had made a bunch of specialised equipment for it, so I didn't waste a primary skill slot. I miss my old base."



Scytale flapped his white-gold wings. "It is what it is. What's the next skill?"



She narrowed her eyes at the screen just before she pressed on the skill. "I have a feeling this name is a sign of the System dumping annoying things on our lap again."




[Skill: Twin Souls: Chaos | Type: Soul/Link ]


Desc: Two souls were locked together in abandoned space, with opposed natures for millennia. Where others may have destroyed each other, these two souls became as close as siblings and as linked as those by blood. They understood the Supreme Cycle of Chaos and Order, embracing their similarities and differences as one.


Abilities:


Supreme Cycle of Chaos and Order – Two comprehended the incomprehensible.


  • Gives the weapon the ability to sense and have a telepathic bond with its soul twin at all times.
  • Gives the weapon and its User the ability to be immune to the forces of Chaos or Order. No demonic or spiritual mental influences will affect it or its User.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to transfer spiritual energy to its soul twin. {Activated when used alongside Twin Souls: Order, 3rd}

Gargantuan Serpentine Mimicry – The body and jaws of a serpent


  • Gives the weapon the ability of independent movement.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to extend infinitely, as long as the User has the energy to support it.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to extend in width, as long as the User has the energy to support it. Ratio: 1/8 weapon's length.

Domain of Chaos and Order – Ordered Chaos


  • Gives the weapon this skill when within 1km of Soul Twin: Order
  • Gives the weapon an x5 multiplicative stat effect when this skill is active. ATK, MATK and SATK x5.
  • Gives the weapon an x5 multiplicative ability effect when this skill is active. Energy requirements and cooldown ÷5. Skill effectiveness x5.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to receive the spiritual energy of those slain by its soul twin. Supreme Cycle of Chaos and Order applies.

[ ]





"Seems to show what you explained about the weapons before. So, why are you feeling iffy about the skill name?"



She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "You know how the System likes to add extra Events or form natural treasures related to the theme of the current chapter? Those items give benefits to those who compete in the Millennium Chapter. If we don't have people coming after us to kill us for the daggers, we'll be hounded by people pressuring us to sell or trade them."



"You mean YOU will. I'll be fine." He said smugly.




She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then, should I accept offers from some who wish me to break off our bond so they could bond you instead? How much do you think you'll go for? I think a bond with a hybrid could go for several hundred crystal tokens if they're special."





He looked to the side shiftily. "Er, no, no, I'm quite fine here."



She went back to analysing Apophis's skill. "These weapons are really built around being used as a pair. I doubt anyone could use them effectively otherwise. Look, it says he can receive the energy from those slain by Ouroboros."




"But it says the first ability of Twin Souls: Chaos also applies, which means it will be transferred to Ouroboros anyway, even if he could gain the energy."



She hummed, spinning Apophis above her palm with her spiritual energy. "I suppose it completes a cycle in some way. So, this weapon has an energy drain function, a multiplicative domain ability, and uses demonic energy and Chaos Power. He starts with very low starting stats for an Epic weapon though, being a sentient weapon that needs levelling up. I suppose being able to ignore magical and spiritual defence, even if limited to only 100 points to begin with, is a good trade-off. Let's see Ouroboros's Status."





[Status: ]


Name: The Serpent's Form: Ouroboros (Lvl. 0)


Race: Spirit Weapon


Rarity: Wonder - Epic (Evolvable)


MP: 100/1000


Stats:


ATK: 300


MATK: 100


SATK: 100


Skills:


  • Rebirth From Death
  • Twin Souls: Order

[ ]



She nodded after she read the screen. "Yep, she became a Wonder. I suppose her uniqueness isn't shown because they have an entire skill based on sharing abilities. No Heroic Power, so you're not going to be replaced anytime soon." She patted his head in mock reassurance and he tried to nip her fingers.



"I wonder what this Rebirth From Death thing is. Sounds like a type of Citadel resurrection skill." He said after he stopped trying to attack her.



"I hope not. I'm still unaware of what would happen to me if I died with my messed up soul ports. Let's not test that." She replied, clicking on the skill.



They both stared in mild shock when they read it.



[Skill: Rebirth From Death | Type: Influence/Spirit ]


Desc: In times past in an unknown world, the mythology of an ancient empire was spread to other continents and underwent a reformation. Now of another form, the deity represented the cyclic nature of life and death, and all within. A confluence with this mythology and spiritual energy has led to the bestowment of a ______'s resonance blessing upon this weapon, taking on the forces of Order's pinnacle.


Abilities:


Cyclic Reforming – The strength of one becomes another's.


  • Gives the weapon the ability to obtain the spiritual energy received by its soul twin. {Activated when used alongside Twin Souls: Chaos}
  • Gives the weapon the ability to reconstitute skills from the energy of those slain by its soul twin and pass them to its User. Collected Skill Shards:
  • Gives the weapon the ability to merge skill shards to form new tertiary or secondary skills. Limitations apply.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to reconstitute stats from the energy of those slain by its soul twin and pass them to its User. Stat gain maximum: 50% of Rank Total.

Ordered Origin – Order became power.


  • Gives the weapon the ability to shield its User from damage up to the total of its added active ATK, MATK and SATK. Shield resets when its User receives unshielded damage the equivalent of what was negated.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to absorb damage up to its active ATK using its User's equivalent MP, while shield is active. Absorbed damage can be reflected partially or completely. Current absorbed damage:

[ ]




Lucy whistled as her bond sat a bit higher in his little tower of coils. He glared at the screen.



"Don't you think Ouroboros is playing favourites too much?"



Lucy grinned smugly and crossed her arms. "I have no idea what you mean."



"Don't give me that," he replied crossly.




She shook her head wryly in amusement. "Well, it's obvious something is going on here. But it's not as overpowered as you think. This skill would be completely ineffective if Apophis wasn't bonded to me as well. It's only his skills that are responsible for gaining spiritual energy from what is killed, and only his Twin Souls: Chaos, 3rd Activation ability allows me to gain spiritual energy from what Ouroboros kills too. Not a single ability of her first Activation would work if they weren't close enough for their soul link."




He grumbled. "Yeah, but you get stats and skills from what you kill. That's unfair. Sooo unfair."




She looked at him in mild frustration. "Really. While it may give me stats, they're not bonus stats. I can only gain half of the maximum for my rank. Even if I ate every natural treasure within the realms, I could only gain another 25% of the Rank Total on top of that due to the System's imposed limits. If a normal User gained it on top of their normal level-up class stats, it wouldn't shoot them over the top of the maximum. It could only make sure that they reach the absolute total possible for each of their Ranks, allowing them to catch up to higher rarity class Users."




She frowned at the screen slightly. "If I get all my stats from just Ouroboros's skill, natural treasures, and the normal stat potions gained each rank up, I would still be 20% weaker than the peak Users for my rank. 10% weaker than the average Users for my rank. I need to do something about that."



Scytale narrowed his eyes, thinking hard to make sure she wasn't tricking him. Then he begrudgingly nodded. "Okay, so not as overpowered as I thought. You still get skills though."




She rolled her eyes. "Leave me alone. Didn't we decide on me not using Apophis when killing users? That would reduce my skill gain drastically when only using one weapon. Plus, do you think I'm going to slaughter thousands to get skills?"





She raised an eyebrow at the skill description when she reread it. "Actually, it says 'skill shards'. I'm assuming this means I must collect multiple of the same kind of tertiary and secondary skills before recombining them into something new."




She tapped her fingers on her left arm. "I guess it reduces secondary or even primary skills into a more basic form because it doesn't say I can form any primary skills using the ability, so it's a bit like choosing a side class, where the forgone main skill deconstructs into secondary skills. It probably also means that it is very unlikely I'll get complete skills through this." She frowned in thought. "I'll need to either make them into entirely new ones or gather enough shards to reconstitute the original. This will take much longer than gaining a whole skill when used. I'll take the creative freedom over that as a trade-off, however."




Scytale nodded, not so upset at the ability now. He nodded to the second ability. "What's your opinion on the defensive ability?"



She thought for a second. "I believe it's decent. I've seen better, but there's one interesting detail in this." She leaned forward slightly to point to a sentence. "It says negated. That usually means I won't gain any damage, no matter what, regardless of debuffs, MATK and SATK. The shield reset function is a bit strange, but it has probably been defined like that to work in conjunction with the damage reflection ability, which I presume must automatically reset the shield when the damage is reflected."




Scytale flickered his tongue. "It's a nice skill. Apophis is definitely the more offense-based weapon though. But I have a question…. does it say what you must gain spiritual energy from?"



She paused and reread the description. "No... it doesn't. Huh."




They turned to each other and spoke in sync. "Monsters."



Scytale looked at her, blinking his golden eyes. "I've never heard of a skill being capable of gaining skills from monsters. Is that… dangerous? It sounds like something that should belong to a Heretic item."




She considered it. "Monsters have decaying souls, so their spiritual energy is very weak. It's why tamers can increase their normally terrible intelligence and prevent them from attacking humans, by giving them their residual spiritual energy to stabilise their collapsing souls through a bond. It's only monster essence that is dangerous and that is why their parts need to be purified before being used. Only the werewolves gained a monster bloodline and maintained their sapience… but that was a pure fluke and every single other person to try copy them has failed ever since. Even he doesn't count." She leaned back, looking at the roof while she considered the idea further.



"Apophis could've almost been a Heretic weapon. It even says, 'Corruption became Chaos, and Chaos became power' in one of his ability's descriptions, referencing his past, while Ouroboros's is just 'Order became power'. But… I think it'll be fine. Monsters do have abilities. They wouldn't be such an annoyance otherwise. They get their mana to form some sort of structure even amidst the ugly miasma of their monster essence, so I suppose I could cast their skills too."





She looked at the two daggers on the table after placing Apophis down next to Ouroboros. "I was actually planning on getting a primary skill that would allow me to form Proto-skills as my adaptive skill, so I could be a good all-rounder. This is much better as it removes my enormously large need for skill books to properly tier up my main skills without a class."





Scytale suddenly reared up, baring his fangs. "So, you do admit there was favouritism in how Ouroboros defined her skills! I witnessed you say it!"



She sent him a flat look. "Sure, I admit it. Yay for you. Let's just see whether Ouroboros's Twin Souls: Order is any different from Apophis's skill."




They turned to read the new white-blue sheet.




[Skill: Twin Souls: Order | Type: Soul/Link ]


Desc: Two souls were locked together in abandoned space, with diametrically opposed natures for millennia. Where others may have destroyed each other, these two souls became as close as those linked by blood. They understood the Supreme Cycle of Chaos and Order, embracing their similarities and differences as one.


Abilities:


Supreme Cycle of Chaos and Order – Two comprehended the incomprehensible.


  • Gives the weapon the ability to sense and have a telepathic bond with its soul twin at all times.
  • Gives the weapon and its User the ability to be immune to the forces of Chaos or Order. No demonic or spiritual mental influences will affect it or its User.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to transfer spiritual energy to its soul twin. {Activated when used alongside Twin Souls: Chaos, 3rd}

Gargantuan Serpentine Mimicry – The body and jaws of a serpent


  • Gives the weapon the ability of independent movement.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to extend infinitely, as long as the User has energy to support it.
  • Gives the weapon the ability to extend in width, as long as the User has energy to support it. Ratio: 1/8 weapon's length.

Domain of Chaos and Order – Ordered Chaos


  • Gives the weapon this skill when within 1km of Soul Twin: Chaos
  • Gives the weapon a x5 multiplicative stat effect when this skill is active. ATK, MATK and SATK x5.
  • Gives the weapon a x5 multiplicative ability effect when this skill is active. Energy requirements and cooldown ÷5. Skill effectiveness x5.
  • Gives the weapons the ability to switch places with their soul twins.

[ ]



"Oh, they can switch places. That's new. And it seems, looking at both this and Rebirth from Death, that Ouroboros can receive the energy of those slain by Apophis. So Ouroboros transfers the energy of those killed by Apophis to Apophis, while Apophis gains the energy of those killed by Ouroboros, as well as the energy of those killed by himself sent by Ouroboros, and then sends all of it back to her, completing the cycle."




Scytale stared intently at one of the descriptions. "I didn't pay much attention to this ability in Apophis's skill sheet, but look at this. It says you'll be immune to the mental abilities of the forces of Chaos and Order."




He turned to look at her. "Does this mean, you can waltz into the middle of the Infernal Duke's Stronghold, and just, be unaffected by all the clan's bloodline abilities? No affliction from Wrath, Lust, Avarice, Envy, Gluttony, Sloth, or Pride? Like, could you render their abilities completely nullified, and walk out unharmed?"



Lucille opened her mouth to refute the idea, but then paused, considering it with a strange expression on her face. She eventually shook her head. "Unfortunately, the Infernal Demon clan's abilities don't only affect the soul. They can have other effects, such as the flame effect of all their abilities, that would do me damage. Although, I would definitely render at least half of their bloodline abilities null."




The Demon Realm had four Duke bloodlines below the bloodline of any reigning Demon Emperor. These bloodlines gave their members the category of Archdemon, and their bloodline patriarchs ascended to the position of Duke when they reached sufficient strength. The Infernal Demons used their signature Flames of Sin bloodline magic to rule over hundreds of thousands of vassal demon clans.



Scytale nodded in slight disappointment. "Guess it would be too good to be true."




They went silent as they stopped discussing the daggers, Lucy slotting them back into their sheaths at her waist. She eventually spoke up, having something to ask her bond.





"So, what are your plans for your class? You'll need to be a bit careful in avoiding what you were like in the past, because while nobody knew we used to be bonded, the Hero," she said, spitting out the title like it was a poisonous object, "Will want to either persuade you to his side or kill you if he discovers you are the 'Truth-Seizing World-Ender' from the past."





The silvery snake bobbed in an approximation of a nod. "Yeah. I have an idea, but it will depend on something. Do you know of any technique that can merge Heroic Armaments into a singular item?"




Lucille tilted her head in surprise at the question. She leaned back in thought. "Not Heroic Armaments per se, but a Sect from the Heavenly Realm has a technique that enables someone to merge their 'sword souls', their Heroic Weapon equivalent." she said, moving her fingers in the 'quote' action.





"I'm sure I could alter it, so it works with Armaments if we get our hands on it. It's not a highly valuable technique, so it shouldn't be too hard to trade for the rights to it."





Scytale bobbed, happy with that answer. "That's great. I can go ahead with my plan now."






She raised an eyebrow. "And what plan requires something like this?"





Scytale flicked his tongue and settled into a more comfortable position. "So. My hybridisation means I gain mana regen and a higher MP cap the more people who are watching me. This means I should build my classes around this fact, using my charm to attract attention. But I'll essentially be drawing tons of aggro that way, right?"






She nodded, crossing her arms. "Ah. I can see where you're going with this."





"Yep. I need to have good defence. Me being a target on the battlefield will mean I need to have the ability to survive the onslaught of attacks as I become stronger from their attention. I expect myself to be acting solo in the future due to my bloodline, so. What do you think about me becoming a self-buffer and healer using my light affinity?" He looked up, waiting for her answer. She was the most informed about the System and its skills that he was aware of and had the best processing ability to consider all his options.





Lucy leaned back with her eyes closed, thinking deeply. Her soul was currently rifling through its extensive memories of all the skills she had found, and the mechanisms of how the light affinity interacts with magic in general. Scytale had to temporarily stop the flow of information coming through her end of the bond as it was incredibly overwhelming with the accelerated speed and multiple thoughts.






…..I currently know of 23,765,987 light element skills and spells applicable to Scytale. Half of those require access to the Citadel of Fate's archives to completely form the pathway, so I'll leave those out for now. I can get rid of most of that half now, leaving a few thousand, as they have better-quality versions. Some 24 are mana-arts from the Glory Pantheon's few light element clans. Those could be good subskills to formulate the armament ability. I'll need to cut out the physical practice part of it, considering he's a magical beast, not human. 212 healing skills can be cast by him, but only 113 can be used on the caster. Considering he's going to have high MP regen but a lower MP cap, I need to focus on the ones that require channelling rather than a brief infusion of mana. That cuts it down to… 57. Only 13 of the best spells are under advanced rank spellcraft, which don't require a mage's runic model or a wizard's heart circles to cast, so I can teach him those. 149 of the better defence-boosting skills require a link with Escalon for Thaumaturgy, which is not happening, so I'll exclude them. 38 under advanced rank can be utilised, but there's some crossover, so I'll only leave the ones that cover the most weaknesses….






Lucy blinked as she opened her eyes and looked at the patiently waiting winged snake.





"How does your illusion affinity come into play?" She asked. Scytale flapped his wings in eagerness.





"I plan on using the mimicry aspect of illusion magic to copy the higher strength buffs of the other elements which will grant me an effectiveness of 75% with my current mana manipulation abilities. I thought they would be good to add to my attack arsenal, so I'm not just pure light element."








Lucy considered this while her fingers fiddled with her fringe. She leaned forward to gaze at the table before them. The ability of illusion magic to mimic other magic wasn't unknown. It was what illusion magic was famous for, actually. But hardly anybody used it that way because it was too difficult and considered a high-level technique. That was because it required the user to have a complete understanding of how the normal elements functioned so they could perfectly replicate the elemental mana in the form of illusion mana.





But that would mean studying the original element you were copying, which would also mean having the element to analyse, so why would you use illusion magic that way when you could just use the actual element in the first place? Most used the ability of illusion magic to form tricks of the eyes and senses or clones, distracting the opponent, than to cast lower quality versions of other elemental abilities.





Lucy used illusion magic for an altogether different purpose though. She turned to her bond.





"Is that to reduce the elemental resistance of your opponents, and increase your own? I'll see what buffs and protections I can find. So, what's the Heroic merging technique for?"





Scytale coiled himself up. "As a magic beast, I'm going to be using my body for fighting. Considering humanoid weapons are terrible for that form, I thought about armour. However, that would be individual pieces, not great for a serpentine body, and I'm not sure how to find a Heroic mana-art that cultivates full body armour."








Lucille nodded. There would be weak points in between multiple armour pieces. For Glory Pantheon's Mythos or Champions, it wasn't an issue, as they typically made multiple different types of armour and weapons to suit the battle. Being able to switch to different armours was important for them, and not viable when you wear full body armour.





"So, a Heroic Armament merging technique that will give you a full-body set of armour as long as you merge new Heroic Power points into your original armament. I'm guessing you'll go for incredibly high defences?"





"Yep. I want to have armour that is almost purely for defensive purposes, so I can attract attention without worry. And because it will be for my beast form, I intend to mask the fact I use Heroic Power so it appears like a scale transformation bloodline ability like some beasts can use, such as the Rockhide Spinebeasts."








Lucy nodded again. "That sounds like a good plan. Make sure when you form your armour it has a realistic scale texture."





She leaned back, their conversation falling into a lull. She looked around the room. "I don't think we had anything more on the agenda today, so I should probably go back to sorting out the records for the vault. I'll begin considering what skills to help you gain." She shook her head in mild irritation. "I can understand why they wouldn't assign someone to do so considering nobody can access the wealth within, but it makes it an incredible annoyance for me." She sighed.





Scytale nodded. "Not going to tell me about the pocket watch?"






"No," she responded. "I checked, but the item sheet doesn't have anything interesting. And when I activated the Faction Authority, all it brought up was several hundred screens of settings and options. At least I managed to find out that I have the ability to halt all the Counties' income flow with the click of a button." She grinned evilly.





Scytale gave a hissing laugh. "Oh, that sounds like a good threat. Now to see how they'll react to that information."
 
Chapter 12 (1 of 2) A disgruntled future friend or two.
While the Beast Realm was a gargantuan piece of land of incomprehensible size, with the System adding newly coalesced regions to it like bubbles floating up to the surface of water to appear around its edges, the Mystical Realm had a different structure. Rather than being a continuous area of land, the Mystical Realm had 'planes'.



These planes were areas of land ranging from roughly the size of a small continent up to 5 times the surface area of Earth, which just floated in the void space surrounding them. These planes had their own atmospheres and environments and grouped like a cluster of grapes on a vine. Some could even see the planes surrounding them in the distance, although that was uncommon. These planes had spatial expansion phenomena occurring where you couldn't mine through to the underside of these land masses, but if you were lucky enough to see them from a distance, you could view the reverse-mountain-like structure of the underside, with a relatively flat surface in comparison on top.



The gravity of these planes was such that you would fall into the empty void space below if you tried to walk on the underside of a plane, or even 'off' the edge of these planes. The planes were attracted towards other clusters of planes, and the 'stronger', or larger planes, attracted younger or smaller planes to themselves in turn. This was how the discovered part of the Mystical Realm slowly expanded, with newly found or newly formed 'outer' planes becoming attracted by the immense pull of the largest central plane yet discovered within the realm, moving towards it.



This, the 'Aeternus' plane, as it was called, was the original land of the Empire of Eternity, and was just larger than 5 times the surface area of Earth. It was the only Superior-ranked plane that had been discovered by the Empire and its citizens, and presumably the System. The Empire had existed long before its assimilation into the Tower – the Mystical Realm had been the fourth realm to be added - and had an extraordinarily rich and extensive history. It was also where one could find the stereotypical 'Sword and Magic' culture. It was a human-dominated empire, where one could find the most advanced supernatural technology of the Tower during this time.



The Empire didn't just have human citizens though. They had long since conquered the non-human planes, and below the 'Superior' plane of Aeternus, were the 'Great' planes of the semi-independent lesser empires. They had roughly a quarter the size of the Aeternus plane and held many other fantastical races.



Glenheim, the home plane of the elves and fae, and the plane of the World Tree, the gate to the spirit realm.



Rocht'guardes, the dwarven stronghold of metal and stone.



Bastion, the mountainous plane of the giants and their royal race, the titans.



Atlantea, the flooded domain of the mermen and the Atlanteans.



The Wastelands, the abandoned land of the beastmen, the beast-blooded races without a bestial form.



And the Metal-borne Coalition, or just 'Coalition', the massive behemoth of machinery and magical engineering constructs, formed by the 'working' races of goblins, gnomes, the rare sentient golems, puppets and others, the craftsmen's paradise.



All these lesser empires had been allowed to rule themselves, in return for their citizens becoming citizens subject to the laws of the Empire as well. Below the Great planes were the Major and then Minor planes.



The reason why Lucille was considering all this was because the city-state Gilded Dome plane was technically a Great plane. However, because of some distant battle in the past between several of the 'great beings' as they were called, it had shattered, most of it falling into the void space, and left only a single shard the size of a small continent to orbit the Aeternus plane.



The traces of the great beings' devastating journeys through the material and even immaterial realms could still be found in the form of catastrophic void storms in the space between planes, a natural phenomenon only found in the Mystical Realm. The other realms had plenty of their own dangerous phenomena as well. The primal beasts and their equals weren't exclusive to the Beast Realm. While a 'shard' of a Great plane was still the size of a minor continent, that was small for the residents of the Tower's realms. Even if the entire Gilded Dome plane was a city.



And Lucy was currently navigating the ostentatiously ornamented streets and pathways of the Gilded Seat, the actual name for the plane's city that the Headquarters was located within, and which was protected by the glistening golden magic array dome above her that earned the plane shard its name. While the technology of the Mystical Realm had not yet managed to arrive at the logistics to support a city with 80-story-high skyscrapers – although the All-Aeon Athenaeum's Towers were close – The city was still a mesmerising sight for the average User. All the wide roads were paved using white marble, and the detailed lampposts were plated in a light layer of the yellow metal the Commission loved so much. As she walked, she could see whirring mana-circles casting spells atop tiled rooftops, and amazing magical artifacts shifting and moving behind the glass shop fronts of the fancy artificing stores.



Crowds of people walked along the roadsides, dressed in all kinds of fabulous clothing unique to the different planes and realms. Some were dressed in mage robes coloured to match their Athenaeum school of magic, staves in hand, some wore elegant gloves, smart suits, matching ascots and held canes in a style favoured by the nobility of the Empire, while some were dressed head to toe in intimidating armour, weapons strapped to their waists or backs.



She could also see the flamboyant silk drapery and brightly coloured leather outfits of the Beast Realm's residents, and she thought she saw a few in the oriental Sect robes denoting their origins from the Heavenly Realm. There were occasionally some pedestrians who had the horns, wings or tattoos found on those with demonic heritage.



If you asked Lucy, the actual city gave her 19th-century vibes, minus the magic of course. They had even developed newspapers, indicated by the young boys shouting out headlines on the sidelines. It irked her they had gotten this far, yet the Mystical Realm still hadn't developed trains yet. They were too wrapped up in their little internal wars and competitions to focus on development. The Coalition had gotten close before her return, but they were too prideful and restrictive about who they let use their technology to begin forming the logistical progress and supply chains that occurred on Earth in the industrial revolution.



Scytale was currently exploring the rooms on the fortieth story of the Headquarters, but she hadn't come alone. No, Vincent Evisenhardt was trailing behind her, slightly to her left. The 27-year-old man with fluffy silver hair, silver eyes, and likewise silver half-moon glasses connected to a chain around his neck was picked, somewhat forcefully, by his new superior to come along. She knew she couldn't go around alone anymore as the new Head of the Commission, so she selected the man to make the trip.



He was currently looking at her with a rather irritated expression. She pretended she couldn't see it, but she had a full 360 degree vision with her spiritual perception, so his slip in emotional restraint was fully known by her. She found it rather amusing how willing he was to express his emotions when he thought she couldn't see him. She whirled around to look at him, who started with a jolt and paused slightly, but she kept on moving backwards as she smiled at him, spreading her arms widely to gesture to their surroundings.



"Quaint city, is it not?"



Vincent frowned slightly, fixing his slipping silver glasses, and stared at her in bemusement.



"I hardly believe it can be called quaint when it occupies an entire plane."



Well, that was true. Even the cities of the 7 Eternal Duchies struggled to reach a similar size to the Gilded Seat. The Gilded Dome plane was the gathering place of hopeful new entrepreneurs and businessmen, aiming to gain potential investors among the noble members of the Aurelian Commission. Quite a few had noticed Vincent's silver hair and tried to attract his attention, who had been immensely annoyed by the whole affair and had begun walking at a very brisk pace. Lucy grinned and spun back around, hands behind her back as she walked.



"I suppose for someone like you who belongs to the main line of a County directly involved with its construction, this place may seem impressive and something worthy of pride. However, for me…" she said, gesturing to the impressive buildings and the traffic on either side of her, "This just screams of inefficiency."



Lucille could see the man frowning a bit, before moving faster to catch up with her, who had been walking a tad speedier. "And what inefficiencies are these that even a young girl like you can see?"



He was suggesting that an 18-year-old girl had nowhere near enough life experience to make accurate judgments in comparison to the many well-learned organisers and planners of the city that had been involved in its making, but Lucy ignored that. He had read the notes she wrote on her ideas for the Commission and by extension, the city, so he was probably just checking they were all her own ideas, and that she wasn't a puppet of some other Faction. She continued moving, making her way down a side street now and then.



"Well, before anything, the city's transport System is atrocious. Whoever had the idea to place teleportation arrays right in the centre of the transport building, and just let everyone shove each other onto it until we're all packed like sardines in a tin, should've been sent back to whence they came from and never employed again. Yet this city has hundreds of teleportation arrays just like it, making me believe that did not happen, unfortunately."



Vincent raised an eyebrow behind her, keeping close so he wouldn't get separated within the large crowd she was making her way through.



"The teleportation array was placed that way to make sure the maximum amount of potential could be accessed for the space it took up."



"And yet," she said, giving him a sideways look, "The arrays would've had much more utility for their district if they had all been placed evenly throughout the plane, instead of gathering the majority around the Headquarters' central area, before slowly becoming fewer and fewer the closer we are to the edge of the plane."



They turned a corner, Vincent grimacing at her response. "We had expected the richer districts to be oriented around the Headquarters, and so had to cater to their desire for easy access to them to continue gaining their favour, considering the Commission is a nobility-dominated Faction. It was unavoidable to maintain our strength."



Lucy threw her hands up in exasperation. "Then just give the nobility their own teleportation system! It would be easy, and even profitable, to grant them teleportation arrays for their private usage, that were separated from the public array system. You could potentially charge them a premium price for it in return for quicker teleportation speeds and smoother transfers from the higher-quality arrays!"



She turned around to face him and put her hands on her hips. "This isn't even some amazing idea that only I've ever come up with. I have a business background, but it could have been an idea that any random person you select off the streets came up with. And tell me, have you never, not once, in all your life as a member of the Commission, ever considered making changes to the teleportation system?"



Vincent opened his mouth, but closed it again, apparently having nothing to say. She turned back, shaking her head. "It's all because nobody in the Commission would profit from doing this, isn't it? Or at least in comparison to chasing deals with other Factions."



Vincent kept silent. They turned into another side road, and they could see that these buildings were slightly shorter and less flashy compared to the ones along the main road. Lucille continued moving, so Vincent had no choice but to follow her.



"And that is why the Faction needs restructuring. It needs clear divides between what is a responsibility as a member of the Faction, and what is a responsibility as a noble. This is what has locked off the Counties from accessing their ancestral inheritances, isn't it. The Founder's rules prevent them from using the inheritances without the Head's permission."



Vincent opened his mouth in shock, pausing his movement, before blinking and shaking his head wryly as he jogged to catch up with her. "I suppose the Total Faction Authority informed you of that."



She looked back at him and nodded, before continuing to pass the now much sparser crowd. "Indeed. When I opened it for the first time, I was greeted by a thousand requests for inheritance access, sent by the different Counts over the years." She scowled slightly at that. The 'unread messages' strain the System put on her soul then was incredibly irritating.



Vincent huffed a slight laugh, before speeding up to walk beside her. "So, what you're trying to say is you know what you're doing when it comes to this leadership thing?"



She gave him a flat look but sighed. "I suppose that was the gist of it, yes."



They came out onto a new bustling street. On this one, the buildings only reached about 3 stories high, and quite a few looked like residences rather than stores. Lucy looked around and let out a small "Ah." when she saw her objective and began walking towards it. Vincent noticed this and cocked an eyebrow as he shifted his glasses to get a better look at what she was heading towards.



"I thought you had come out this far just to explore, but would I be more correct in suggesting you intended to go to a specific place?"



Lucy nodded with a wide smile on her face, happy she had found the correct place. "Yes. As a matter of fact, this is the place I was trying to find." She said, pointing with a gloved hand. She normally wore gloves, but she hadn't gotten herself a pair until becoming the Faction Head.



Vincent followed her gaze before his expression twisted into a complicated mixture of bemusement, confusion, milk shock, disgust, and slight apprehension. "That," he said, likewise pointing at where he thought she was gesturing to, "Is your objective?"



Standing before them was a two-story house. Unlike the two much nicer, pristine three-story buildings on either side, this house did not look like it belonged on the street. At all.



The building was sagging on one side in a way that would offend every single construction organisation's sensibilities, and was made from wood so dark, they weren't sure if it was from grime or natural colouration. The windows were haphazardly boarded up, and what little glass was visible was caked in dust and practically tinted black. The tiling on the roof was falling off, and they could see a hole on one side of the dark grey pointed roof that left it vulnerable to the outside elements. The gutters were loose on one side, the fixations incapable of stopping it from falling. There was a crooked dark-grey chimney leaking black smoke on top to complete the look.



The bottom story was a tad better, but only because the front windows weren't fully boarded up. The glass was still so thickly smeared with dust it was impossible to see inside, and the doorstep also sagged in the centre. Lucy wasn't sure it would hold anyone's weight. The front door had a clunky brass plaque on it engraved with 'P. T. F. Customised Accessories' in bold letters. They gazed at the building in silent appreciation of its 'aesthetics' for a moment, before Vincent had no choice but to say something.



"This is your objective?!?" he said despairingly.



"You've said that already." Lucy deadpanned, but he ignored her. He gestured with both of his arms to the decrepit abomination of a house, his glasses falling from his nose.



"You take me on a walk throughout some backstreet district of the city, after pulling me from my very rare break, saying you have something highly important to do, just so we could stand here admiring this violation of safety standards?!? And you say you're going to be a good leader, allowing the Faction to enter a new era of prosperity!" he got out, going a bit wide-eyed towards the end. Lucille shook her head, and he relaxed slightly, but not before she could say her piece.



"Not just admire it outside. I plan on going inside too." She added. A vein pulsed above one of his eyebrows. She marched onwards towards the door as Vincent opened his mouth to say something, but then she whirled around to stare at him with a serious look.



"I'd like you to remember that while I may be young, and have no issues being on friendly terms with you, I am still the new leader of your Faction, and soon to be an Honorary Count in my own right, who does not require listening to the demands of their subordinates."



Vincent blinked, registering what she had said, and then took a step back, nodding solemnly and looking a bit embarrassed at his slip in emotions. It was rather unprofessional of him.



But Lucy made eye contact with him, and then her face split into a wide grin. "So, you acknowledge you're my subordinate? Good. I have a lot more work in the future for you."



Then she grabbed the brass doorknob in front of her and turned it, opening the door with a loud creak. Vincent realised he'd been had, and let out a long groan. It contained a slight bit of amusement though.



They stepped through the doorway, and both of them coughed as the door dislodged dust from above their heads, filling the room with shifting grey clouds. A flat-sounding bell rang out, and they briefly heard a dull thud above their heads combined with a muffled shout of some kind. Lucille placed a hand above her eyes, peering through the dusty clouds with curiosity, while Vincent took his glasses off to rub them with a handkerchief, removing any stray dirt kicked up by the room. The uneven floorboards creaked below them as Lucy headed to the front desk, while Vincent observed the grime-coated items on the sloping shelves at the side of the room, leaning down to inspect them with a sense of horrified fascination.



They turned when they heard loud stomping as a man came down a rickety spiral staircase, dusting off his apron and lifting his hair away from his face. Then he crossed his arms and gazed at them with a dark expression.



The man himself only looked like he was in his early twenties, but his expression said he was not pleased to have to deal with them. He had flat, long brown hair that was tied up in a low ponytail at the base of his neck, stray hair falling on either side of his face. His eyes were also brown and he was wearing a beige long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows that looked like it could have been white at some point in time. His aforementioned apron was creamy linen on top of a leather lining, covered in mostly dark grey, but also other kinds of stains. His hands were calloused and also stained with what looked like black grease and a leather belt strung with pouches and tools was wrapped around his waist.



He scowled deeper when Lucy smiled brightly, holding out a hand for a handshake, while Vincent just observed their interaction with an unreadable expression.



"Hi. You're Sedric Ferin, right?" Lucy said with a cheerful expression. 'Sedric' eyed her hand with ill-disguised suspicion. Lucy blinked, before smiling and taking off her right glove. She held out her uncovered hand for him again, flexing it a little for him to see.



"I'm not going to bind you into a contract that will sell your soul, no need to be scared."



The man, clearly not appreciative of her joke, scowled deeper but cautiously took her hand and shook it, flinching back very quickly afterwards. He flexed his right hand with a weird expression on his face. "Why is your hand so cold?!"



Lucille raised an eyebrow as she replaced her glove. "I usually circulate mana within it to make my body temperature closer to normal, but I decided your attitude didn't warrant such care."



Vincent looked mildly startled by that strange fact, but Lucy waved a hand. "Regardless. I haven't introduced myself yet."



She gave a slight dip of her head, a hand placed in front of her. "Lucille Goldcroft. Just call me Lucy."



The look on Sedric's face showed he had no intentions of doing so, but he gave a slow nod. He narrowed his eyes.



"….why are you here? I don't deal with your kind."



She assumed the 'your kind' was referring to nobility. Lucy rapped a black-gloved hand against the front desk, with a bright smile on her face. "Well, that might change in the future, but that's irrelevant. I'm here about the inheritance left behind by a certain relative of yours."



Sedric frowned deeper, confusion clear on his face. "Does this look like a place belonging to someone with an inheritance of some kind?"



She smiled knowingly and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood. "I suppose inheritance is not the right word on this occasion. It would be more accurate to refer to it as a talent."



Sedric looked even more confused. "What in the realms are you on about lady?"



Lucy blinked. It seemed the message wasn't getting through to this particular person. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. "Maybe I should say a profession?"



The man blinked. "I'm self-employed."



Lucy sighed and tried again. "The thing your grandfather had."



Sedric tilted his head to look at her with the most mocking and condescending face he could muster, crossing his arms. "He's already dead."



She straightened up to gaze flatly at him. "Sedric Ferin, I'm talking about your class."



That got a reaction out of him. With his mouth forming the shape of a belated 'oh', he took a step back with a wary expression, getting into a defensive position. She even noticed he put a hand to his belt, like one of the tools there could help him fight them off.



Lucille just rolled her eyes as she held a hand to her forehead. "Does it appear like I'm heavily armed? Look, I have no intentions of doing anything to you. You're not even Rank-2. You are virtually useless to me right now."



The pony-tailed man paused his retreat, studying their expressions cautiously. When it seemed that Vincent's bemusement and Lucy's unamused expression and crossed arms meant she was telling the truth, he slowly straightened up. He didn't come any closer though. "Then… what is it that you want?"



Lucy grinned but didn't answer him straight away. She gave another glance around the room. "I intend to tell you soon, but for now, do you perhaps have somewhere else we could go? I think you might prefer to be in a more comfortable place while we talk."




Sedric Ferin watched the strange woman who introduced herself as 'Lucille Goldcroft' inspect his upstairs living room with a curious look on her face. He suppressed a twitch of his eyebrow but still scowled when she ran a gloved finger along his wall, rubbing her fingers to check for dust. She turned to look at him with an immensely irritating smile on her face.



"This is a lot nicer than downstairs. I think keeping your bottom story utterly inhospitable is an amazing way of avoiding others. Maybe I should try it sometime." She said in a tone that made it impossible for him to determine if she was being sarcastic or not.



He stared at her as he lowered himself into his armchair. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"



She hummed as she sat down on the couch opposite him, a coffee table between them. She crossed her legs as she responded. "It was supposed to be a compliment. I do wish I could've used this method to deal with uninvited guests in the past."



He shook his head, disbelieving. "This was given to me by my grandfather anyway. I've only had it for a year, so the mess isn't mine."



"I know." She said. Then she gave him a wide grin while narrowing her eyes. "Just like I knew you were Sedric Ferin, and that you have a Legendary class."



Sedric flinched and stared at her in apprehension. Lucille just smiled and didn't say anything else. Eventually, he spoke up. "And you knew that how?"



She tapped a finger on her chin as she gazed to the side. "Hmm… perhaps I'll tell you if we can reach an agreement. But allow a new Faction Head to have her secrets please."



Sedric narrowed his eyes at her but then blinked as he realised what she said. "Sorry? A new Faction Head?" he asked, taken aback.



She nodded amicably. "Indeed. Only seven days ago, in fact."



He scowled at her. "So, you become a new Guild Leader or similar, and the instant you do so, you try to get me to join your Guild? Is that how it goes?"



The mask-wearing woman cocked an eyebrow at him and shook her head. She reached into a brown bag tied to her belt and pulled out a circular purple object. She chucked it at him, and he hastily caught it. Sedric curiously turned the object in his hand and was then stunned when he saw the golden symbol of three coins engraved on the front.



"Not a Guild. I'm the new Head of the Aurelian Commission."



He looked up in scepticism. "You're joking."



She shook her head. "I'm not." She could see Sedric still didn't believe her, so she expounded on her statement.



"That," She said, pointing at what he could now see was a pocket watch, "Is my soulbound inheritance token. It gives me control over the Commission. It's well known that the Faction has become suspiciously busy these last few days, isn't it?"



Sedric frowned but grudgingly nodded. Everyone was worried some calamity had befallen the Commission. Said calamity was possibly this woman in front of him. It was still incredibly unlikely. The black-haired woman raised an eyebrow, pointing downstairs.



"And did you not notice what the hair colour of my partner was? Surely you know what silver hair represents in the Gilded Seat, as a resident of this city?"



Sedric opened, then closed his mouth. He did, as a matter of fact, know what silver represented within the city. Namely, one of the four founding County bloodlines, the Silver Evisenhardt family. The person opposite him grinned.



"You could even go downstairs and ask him. He's the youngest grandson of the Count of Silver, Vincent Evisenhardt."



He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. If that was true, he was in a load of trouble. Deeep trouble. If it was any random Guild Leader from some backward world, Sedric would be fine to just pack up and run away. He had a few magic items left by his grandfather that could protect him. But, if she was the leader of a Faction as large as the Aurelian Commission, it would spell disaster for him to insult their 'generosity' that way, as it were.



Chavaret was responsible for the Commission's mercenary army and were expert weapon craftsmen. They could be sent after him. Ravimoux had extraordinarily good intelligence agencies and assassin circles under their leadership, so he'd have to fear for his life each night. The Alichanteu owned vast sectors of land and buildings, so he would have to avoid any of their hotels and inns while on the run. And…. the Evisenhardt ran the banks. They could afford any bounty to be set on his head. He rubbed his face with his hands. He hadn't had a good sleep last night, and so he was feeling far too mentally drained for this situation. Not that any day would be good for this situation.



He looked up at the woman and glared at her. "And so, what does the amazing Faction leader Miss Goldcroft want with a weakling accessory craftsman?"



The Goldcroft woman just smirked and leaned back after throwing a thick wad of paper on the table. "No need for flattery, or formality. You can call me Lucille or Lucy just fine."



Sedric cautiously picked up the top white document and focused on what was written. He frowned deeper and deeper as he read through the golden text. It was exactly as he suspected. A contract that would place him into a lifetime of eternal servitude to the Faction, the situation his grandfather had spent most of his life trying to escape and lost all his strength and abilities to run away from.



It left him weakened and dying when he made his way to the Gilded Dome plane to buy an old decaying building that would hide him from his pursuers, protecting him within the neutral city-state. Sedric, his last blood relative and only grandson, was the one who cared for him to his last dying breath, and the one who gained his grandfather's Legendary class as an inheritance. And the building, but that wasn't anything to rejoice about. He slammed the documents down on the table in disgust.



His grandfather had taught him all the tricks used within magic contracts so he could avoid the same fate. In the third section of the second page of the contract, the enticing words that said the contracted would be 'released from service when they have completed the item requested by the employer'. It sounded nice, but it just meant that the employer could keep finding issues with his item, postponing his release indefinitely. There was no way a big Faction like the Commission would be willing to see him leave when he had a Legendary class and had knowledge of all their crafting secrets.



And the next page had a clause about 'unconditional support in resources and equipment for the crafter'. It didn't mention it would require the crafter to be locked up in the equivalent of a cell for his life, forced to make items day in and day out. This whole contract was a farce. He looked up at the 'Aurelian Commission leader' with a dark expression.



"Did you really expect me to sign this?"
 
Chapter 12 (2 of 2) A disgruntled future friend or two.
"Did you really expect me to sign this?"





The woman tilted her head, looking confused. "Yes, of course?"





Sedric was not fooled and sneered. "What, going to send hitmen after me if I don't? Lock me out of access to my money at the banks?"





She frowned. "What? No. That's not what I- oh." She put a hand to her chin in thought.





He had to clench a fist when the woman dared to act insulted. There was no way that she didn't know what was in that contract. Even if it was written by someone else, a leader so useless that they didn't know how crafter contracts worked, and left a subordinate to do the work for them, was little more than a puppet.





He nearly began shaking in anger when she gave a small smile, appearing like she had understood something. He watched as the woman leaned forward and turned the contract documents over until he could see the last page. Then the woman leaned back again and shrugged.





"Sorry. I should've made it so this was at the start. I think after reading this you'll change your mind."





Sedric crossed his arms as he leaned forward to read it. He didn't know what games she was playing now, but he wasn't going to fall for it. He scanned the document, but rather than seeing something else incriminating, he found something confusing. He frowned, this time not in anger, but in puzzlement. He picked it up for a closer look.





"Non-exclusive contract? What is this?" he asked after looking back up.





The black-haired woman nodded. "Yes, I guessed you had missed that. I have no intention of preventing you from crafting for other people. All I care about is that you craft some items for me, and that's it."





He stared at her. "That is ridiculous. Aren't you worried I could just craft the same item for everyone else, sharing your secrets with all your rivals and enemies? This isn't logical."





She raised an eyebrow at him. "Am I the Faction Head, or you? Besides," she added. "I have added clauses to protect against that."





He scoffed. Of course, she did. After he signed this contract, he would be locked out of half his abilities if he ever got out of it, just because her Faction would want to prevent any possible chance of their 'secrets' escap-





"It says here that you must credit the author of the item blueprint if you use concepts from their work for any other item. And any item design must have over 50% variation compared to the original item when used to create an item for anyone but me. I think that's all…. oh wait." The woman said, tracking the words on the document she was holding with her finger. "The author gains 10% of the proceeds if the crafter sells an item with under 50% and over 40% variation. No item with variation under 40% is to be sold or given to another at any cost. So, there you have it." She finished, looking up.





Sedric was even more confused than he had been when he saw the 'non-exclusivity' condition. These terms were… extremely generous. So much he became even more suspicious, as nobody gave crafters, who had no combat abilities, these terms. He picked up another one of the pages, pointing to the words he had seen earlier.





"But what about the clause that states I'll only be released when I make the item you need? That's just an excuse to keep me in your service forever."





He blinked as the woman clicked her tongue and leaned forward to take the page out of his hands with a "Let me see that." He watched as she scanned the document, and then she pointed to another line on the page, this one a bit lower.





"Yes, I did put that in. But you failed to see I said that I needed only a single item made, and it would be using blueprints I have given you, and I am liable for any failures in the final outcome because it relies on you being Rank-3 to even begin making the artifact. In other words, I can't keep holding you forever, because it would be my fault, and not yours."





He took the document she held out to him to read again. He frowned. "This has to be a trap. There's no way a Faction would be willing to give me so much support and be willing to accept blame if the outcome is not what they desire. Liability under the Empire means the more powerful Faction or force has to pay more depending on the power difference between the two groups. That could be up to a hundred times more resources compared to if I broke the contract."





The woman rolled her eyes and sighed. She grabbed another sheet and turned it around for him to read. "This is why you always read the full contract. Look at the top here: It says, 'Private Contract'. As in, a contract between individuals, and not a Faction and crafter." She continued, showing him the name signed at the bottom, which read 'Lucille Goldcroft'. "I am requesting this in my personal capacity as another equal, and not requesting you to be my subordinate under the leadership of the Commission. You won't join the Faction with this contract."





He cocked his head, still sceptical. "But that would mean you have the resources capable of 'unconditionally' supporting a Legendary class crafter, all by yourself. I'm not a Legendary warrior, I require much more than someone who just needs a good weapon and armour."





The dark-haired person opposite him leaned back and shrugged while grinning. "Surely you've heard of the Founder's vault, the private property of the Faction leader?"





Sedric felt his jaw drop as he understood the implications, and gulped.





"Forget one Legendary crafter." She added. "I can support a hundred."





He tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "I… think I might need to re-read the contract."





The Commission Head laughed. "Take your time. If you wish, I could add a probationary clause, so you have a month in which the contract won't take effect, and you can cancel the deal at any time during that period." She leaned forward to tap on the coffee table, pointing at the documents. "Unconditional support goes a lot further than you think too. I could let you move to a new residence or rebuild this old one. If you wish, you could do your work in the Headquarters itself and possibly even stay there."





Sedric slowly nodded, seriously contemplating the offer this time….. maybe the contract was worth it, even if it was trapped? He considered another part of the contract. "I don't want to work 24/7."





She nodded. "8 hours each weekday, including an hour of break. I was originally going to give you both Saturday and Sunday off, but there are limits to how much I can let you have free time, even with my authority as a Faction leader. Instead, on Saturday will be when we meet up to discuss your progress or what you require to advance your craft, including any additional item requests we can organise as well. If I have a crafter I want to use them well." She grinned. "You can't begin making my required item until Rank-3 anyway, so crafting a few extra accessories for me until then won't be difficult. I'll support you with all the blueprints, materials, and equipment you need, and you gain bonuses for each additional item you craft. It's written in there."





Sedric nodded again but then paused. "Blueprints? I didn't think they were very common. Are you sure you have enough?"





Most crafters didn't make blueprints so their work couldn't be copied. The mask-wearing woman pointed a finger at him and asked a question to him in return. "Yes, I do. In fact… do you know what makes crafter or non-combat classes special?"





He raised an eyebrow at the unexpected question but answered. "Our terrible combat stats, obviously. But I would say our specialised techniques are the most important thing."





The woman tilted her head and then gestured to him. "But, mages and wizards can use mana just as well as alchemists can, so why does their mana make spells, but alchemists makes elixirs?"





She continued without waiting for an answer. "Well, their techniques are different, besides the fact, alchemists put their mana into substances, but it's not some fundamental aspect of their mana that causes the different outcomes. It's just their knowledge of how to manipulate their mana differently, knowledge given to them by a skill. So, if knowledge is all that separates a mage and a crafter…"





She grinned. "Then can't you just learn it all the hard way?"





Sedric stared, dubious. Was she implying you could find out how to make blueprints by learning all the information required to be a crafter using mundane memorisation? But to do that, you needed to have an incredibly high studying ability and be capable of storing it all in your mind without needing a skill to aid you and repeat it enough to create functional items without a crafter's class. She was also implying you could learn how a mage uses their mana through that method too… and that all the blueprints were created by her.





Before he could ask if what she suggested was true, she got up off her chair and stretched. She turned towards Sedric.





"So, would you like me to quickly add the probationary clause to give you an extra month to think about it? I am the new Head of the Commission, so I have other work to do. We've left my silver-haired partner downstairs for quite a while as well."





Sedric blinked and responded, stuttering. "A-Ah, yeah, I think that would be best for now."





She nodded and added another clause to the magical contract. Thin, multi-coloured strands of mana coalesced and melded into the contract as she wrote, and he could see that her neat handwriting perfectly matched the rest of the words on the documentation, so that ruled out the possibility of a subordinate writing up the document. Once she had done, she got up and nodded, holding out a filled fountain pen to him.





"Your turn." She spoke.





He hesitantly took the pen and read what she had added. When he found it was all in order, he slowly put the tip of the pen to the page. He had a moment where he almost wanted to back out, but he eventually gritted his teeth, and before he could pull away he signed his name in one fluid movement, the golden ink sparkling on the paper. Then he handed it back.





She pulled out what Sedric recognised as a document duplicator, a small magic item used to replicate the physical writing of the document, but not the magical component. "Would you like the original or the copy?"





"The original," Sedric replied. She nodded and reshuffled the documents into their original numerical order, and then placed another pile of documentation next to it, these blank. She put the long thin silver strip of metal along the top edge of the pile, before slowly moving it downwards to reach the bottom edge. On the blank documents next to it, black ink unfurled on it and spread to form a copy of the magical document, this time purely mundane and without the golden text. She handed the magical contract back to him.





"Now that we both have a copy of this, I think it's time for me to get going. I'll see you again sometime within the month, so don't worry too much about what to do."





She held out a black-gloved hand for Sedric to shake. "May we see future horizons."





He cautiously grabbed and shook it when he stood up. "Uh… may we see future horizons."





And with that, the woman gave him a nod and went back downstairs, leaving Sedric Ferin, pondering over what had just happened, feeling like a storm had just blown through his home.







Vincent intently watched Lucille, who was whistling, walk down the stairs. The girl waved a little when she saw him looking at her, and she smiled. "Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. I'm done now."





He narrowed his eyes as she used an arm to jump over the bench, dusting her palms when she was on the other side. Walking towards the door and exiting, he followed Lucy from behind once more. They walked down the street at a relatively brisk pace for a while, having a silent journey, before she spoke up.





"Did anything interesting happen in the room while I was occupied?"





"Not that I experienced. It was just dusty and smelt of mildew." He said a tad dryly.





Lucy clearly sensed something from his voice, as she gave him a sideways look. "That is a common occurrence in old houses, to my knowledge. Maybe it would comfort you to know that as my escort, you would've had to remain standing behind me and not sit down anyway?"





"Having a place to sit was not the issue." He stated.





Lucy gave a short laugh that made him flinch. "And I don't think it was the musty waiting area you found yourself in either, was it?"





He remained silent, trying to find a way to start saying what he wanted to. Lucille gave a large sigh and turned to look at him.





"I am well aware that a Count's relative, no matter how young, would have to be an Ascendant. And non-combat nobility classes such as yours all have rather special skills about dealing with social situations and negotiating deals. You had a way of eavesdropping on my conversation with the crafter. So, spill."





Vincent was about to refute, but the look in Lucy's eyes told him it was a lost cause, and he inwardly groaned. He took off his glasses, while they headed towards the teleportation array they came from.





"You've been in this city for seven days, correct?" he queried. Lucy nodded, so he continued. "So, a week into your leadership of the Faction, you find some obscure building in some obscure district, and go to negotiate a private contract with a Legendary class, the rarest form of class possible, and a crafting class to boot, that not even the Commission's extensive information network knew of."





Lucille raised an eyebrow. "Would Ravimoux be that willing to share their information with the other Counties?"





"Not in the slightest chance," he replied drolly. "However, when it comes to Users with classes at Ancient rarity or higher, it's in the Faction's foundational rules that all and any information on them when they enter Gilded Seat is to be reported to the Headquarters for the Counties to become aware of them."





She nodded, humming slightly in thought. "That is useful information. I suppose it's so spies can be tracked. And so, what is your point?"





He stared at her, but she only smiled. "Communication is important, isn't it?"





Vincent pinched his nose bridge above his glasses. "What I want to ask is how can you, an 18-year-old girl, know where to find a Legendary crafting class User, who has apparently only had his class for a year, while being Rank-0?"





"If I tell you it involved time travel, would you believe me?" she asked, smiling. He just scoffed in return, making her click her tongue. "Nobody seems to believe me when I say that. Except maybe that one mage." She added, tapping her chin with a finger.





He shook his head wryly. "What is the real reason then?"





"You said you wouldn't believe me if I told you it was time travel." She said, blinking innocently.





He looked at her for a moment and then sighed in exasperation. "You're never going to tell me the truth, are you?"





"Hmm…" she mused, looking at him with an unreadable expression. Then she smirked. "Maaaybe?"





He gave a weak chuckle, more in self-pity than anything, and they continued walking towards the teleportation array. When the white, domed building appeared, Lucille slowed her pace a bit to walk alongside Vincent.





"Sir Evisenhardt." She began. Vincent gave her a funny look due to the formality but didn't say anything. She turned to face him.





"You're the youngest son of the Count's only son, right? Relatively speaking, you have practically no succession rights."





He wondered where she was going with this. "Yes, that's true," he said. "And I don't want to become the Count if that's what you're thinking." He added, feeling suspicious.





Lucille smirked and waved a hand. "Who cares about that? No, it's because I have a suggestion for you."





He raised an eyebrow as he gestured for her to continue, focusing on the conversation intently. He had a feeling what she was about to say was the reason why she had shown such interest and favouritism to him, and he wasn't about to miss out on an explanation. She gave him a wide smile, holding out a gloved hand.





"How would you like to be my aide?"





Vincent blinked. Then he blinked again. Opening, and then closing his mouth a few times, he then ran a hand down his face. He held out the other to pause any more conversation from Lucy.





"I need a moment." He replied weakly.





Lucille crossed her arms and leaned against a nearby building, leaving Vincent to his thoughts, pacing around a bit, and tapping a foot on the ground. When he had felt collected enough, he looked up from where he had been staring at the ground in thought.





"Why me?" he began. He hadn't thought of anything else he could say.





The dark-haired girl pointed to his hair. "I will admit it is partially a political move. Having a direct bloodline relation of one of the Counts by my side will give credence to my words and will be seen as them supporting me. The Evisenhardts also have good financial administration capabilities, which I will need when reorganising the Faction."





Vincent tilted his head. "Only partially?"





She groaned slightly. "I don't suppose I could just say I know in the same way I knew there was a Legendary class here…." she grumbled.





"So, with blind, unadulterated confidence?" he suggested.





She gave him a flat look. "You do realise that's not the best joke to say to a girl who wears a mask over her right eye?"





Vincent stiffened, and looked away sheepishly, while Lucille sighed. "Although technically my right eye works better than my left…" she added. Vincent was curious about that statement, but she shook her head and gestured for him to follow before he could ask.





They began heading towards the teleportation array building once more as she looked up at the sky in thought.





"There is an element of the idea I just can't tell you about. Not because I'm trying to hide it, but rather because it will make things messy, and some things aren't worth knowing about until they directly impact your life. You'll find out eventually, I'm sure, but we'll deal with it then."





She stopped looking at the sky as they got closer to the dome-roofed circular building. From where they were, they could now see the shimmering indigo details on the roof, rotating slowly in a stylised visage of constellations and mythical creatures. The All-Aeon Athenaeum always went all out in making sure everyone knew who was responsible for the 'wondrous' teleportation system that enabled the Empire to function. Not that any other Faction had spatial magic.





Lucille continued with what she was saying. "Firstly, I suggested this to you, because you have not yet taken up a permanent position within the Faction or your County that would otherwise occupy you. I need someone who can devote their time to doing the tasks I ask them to, and adapt to working with me, without being stuck in the methods of most nobles."





"Hmm…" Vincent mused. He rubbed his chin, a hand in his pocket as they walked. "So, you needed someone relatively young then. I have seen that anyone past a certain age or who has entered a certain position for too long tends to be rather stubborn. I can understand that."





She nodded as she gestured to him. "It means I also need someone who can stand by my side as an equal individual, if not in an equal status." She looked at him intently. "Nobility is filled with those who wish to form connections and cling to higher nobles in an attempt to gain power, usually through fake flattery and masking their true intentions. I can't have that in my aide."





She grinned at him. "That was why I tested you when we first met. To see if you could say what you mean without deceit, regardless of the other's status or position. But I did expect you to last longer. I'm not sure you're a very good fit for a noble if you're that impatient."





He scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward. "Um… my reaction wasn't really because of you."





Lucy waved a hand in disregard of his statement. "That much was obvious. But even if that was so, as a mid-ranked noble, you've had the training to hide your emotions. The fact that I've presented myself as someone friendly enough for you to be open to means if succeeded at my part at least."





Vincent frowned slightly. Her sentence implied that what he thought was her current personality was just an act… but he'd seen some of the better actors of the Empire, and none of them seemed to be capable of keeping up the same front as consistently as she did. So, what was fake and what was real, and why would she tell him she was acting? Lucille spoke up again before he could think further about it.





"While it's not a good thing when facing nobility as a whole, it's what I want. I can't have someone manipulative and untrustworthy going behind my back. I need what I say to be implemented. I'm fine with someone arguing and critiquing my decisions, suggesting improvements, or pointing out the feasibility of my plans, but I cannot, and will not, have a subordinate who pretends to accept them, and then abuses their power to implement changes that do not conform to the spirit of my plans as well as the physically written rules of them." She stated firmly. "Do you personally know of anyone who could satisfy my requirements?"





He considered the question for a moment but eventually shook his head. She nodded in acceptance of the silent answer, and they stepped past the crowd around the teleportation building to take the VIP line, using Vincent's insignia, a silver badge depicted with three gold coins, by showing it to the staff there. Lucy stopped to purchase a newspaper from a nearby paperboy who was selling them to those waiting. She turned to Vincent to continue their conversation.





"This stems from the Faction not having clear divides between the responsibilities of vassal nobility under the four Counties and the responsibilities of a member of the Faction. Automatically becoming a member of the Faction just because of your bloodline doesn't mean you are capable or even want to, excel in the position you were given, and this occurs throughout the Commission, halting any real future advancement."





He shifted a bit at her statement. That… made him a little uncomfortable. It was the honour, pride, and obligation of the Counties' vassals to work for the Faction, taking up a position to contribute to the Faction that protected their livelihoods and supported them with resources and connections to rise to greater heights. It had been that way since the Empire had made them the only official merchant union for nobility, and it had continued to be so even as more nobles gathered under the banner of the Aurelian Commission.





Changing it so those positions were more… professionalised and a matter of ambitious desire rather than dutifully returning the grace of their lords and ladies dishonoured the wishes and desires of the First Counts and the Founder to protect their descendants through unity. Nonetheless, this was about him becoming an aide, so there were other questions to ask first.





"But, even if I had all those qualities you wanted, I'm still a member of the Evisenhardt County first. I could still answer to my grandfather, working in the background to undermine your instructions. And how would you even know if I supported your ideas and plans?" he asked, frowning a little.





Lucy gave a slight laugh. "The moment you didn't spill all my plans to your grandfather that day, was when I knew you supported them, and in turn, me. Or were at least interested, and saw enough potential in them, that you decided not to ruin any burgeoning relationship between us by mixing in political loyalties. That showed you could be an individual separate from your family and have your own aspirations and desires."





That made much more sense to Vincent. He nodded his head, even as the line started moving to let the crowd on to the 20-metre-wide luminous violet magic array. Then he jolted, feeling like a lightning bolt had struck him, and he quickly dashed to catch up to Lucy who had gone on ahead to stand on the array.





"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait." He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't read those folders until I had gotten to my private study on the Evisenhardt floor of the Headquarters. That's at least 15 levels below your floor at the top! How did you know I didn't tell anyone else about them?! It's been seven days since then!"





The dark-haired girl paused, looking up from the newspaper she had been reading, to stare at him for a moment, like she hadn't even considered that. Then she broke out into a cheery grin. "How about we discuss that after you become my aide, shall we?"





Then the circular form of mana below their feet lit up with an indigo glow, causing their vision to swirl as the ground shifted beneath their feet. Many people among the crowded streets of the Gilded Seat stopped to watch the befuddling spectacle of an Evisenhardt noble desperately attempting and failing to get explanations from the black trenchcoated young girl in front of him, who was studiously ignoring him as she read her black and white newspaper.





It wasn't until a while later that Vincent realised not once had she bumped into a member of the crowd while she had been walking with her head down, supposedly unable to see where they were going.







Sedric Ferin focused intently on the violet diadem in front of him on the workbench. Unfortunately, due to certain… interruptions the day before, he had made a mistake while crafting the accessory and had to redo it. While his home was derelict and dilapidated, he did get customers now and then through other contacts, so he had to finish this piece of jewellery. The purple gem in the centre made it frustratingly hard to concentrate on engraving the required mana-circuits for his enchantment work because it kept reminding him of the absurd woman's eye colour, or at least the one not hidden behind a mask, and therefore his experiences from yesterday. Still, he had delicate work to do, so he had to ignore whatever thoughts he had about that whole debacle and focus on this.





Eventually, the mana-absorbing circuit's channels had been engraved into the amethyst before him on the oak wood bench, and he could abandon the more boring gem-smith's tools to start using the expensive enchantment implements that would turn the mineral into more efficient storage for mana, giving actual power to the diadem. He was glad he hadn't needed to craft the crown's base, only needing to engrave the channels and fill them with a mana-catalysing binder when the order arrived from a blacksmith because that would increase the complexity far above what making this would be worth in profit. He could create the base as well, by being an all-encompassing 'accessory craftsman' instead of jewel smith or specifically enchanter, but the cheap miser who wanted to put a shiny gem on their daughter to sell them to some rich merchant didn't deserve such effort.





Although, if he was paid enough….





Sedric shook his head to rid himself of any stray thoughts and grabbed the welding goggles hanging around his neck to place them over his eyes, brushing aside his stray dark hair. Then he grabbed the heated binder pen from another bench. Rifling through some half-empty bags on his workshop's shelves, he found a gem-stone specific enchantment binder that would leave the amethyst appearing like it was unengraved. Customers liked magical items that didn't show the mana-circle.





He pulled on thick leather gloves and turned the pen on, feeling it heat up in his hand. Then, after adding the hardened binder to the back of the pen, he slowly filled the engraved amethyst with the molten liquid, which quickly adopted the texture and colourisation of the surrounding mineral. Multi-coloured mana fizzled and popped as it streamed into the binder and stone, causing the channels to light up with a glow. It was a slow process.





All of a sudden, the flat, toneless bell below his upstairs workshop sounded out with a loud Ding! and he yelped as the linked alarm bell in front of him started vibrating as well, causing molten enchantment binder to spill out from the pen as he accidentally dropped it, also knocking over some of the equipment on his bench. The binder solidified on the surface of the violet gemstone, giving it a lumpy, misshapen look. He stared at the mess and growled in fury.





"May the Citadel's blighted Sages get their ravenous, insatiable hands on your miserly fate and feed it to the Dire wolves." He cursed bitterly.





He then quickly packed everything up, turning the pen off so it stopped leaking binder all over his floor, and he took his grimy goggles off. He stomped down the rickety staircase outside his door, uncaring the disturbingly loud creak his stairs made as he found himself on the atrociously filthy ground floor. He looked to see who the new offender was…. and stared.





"Why are you here?!" he exclaimed, aghast.





There, cheerfully grinning, was the black-haired and mask-wearing Lucille Goldcroft waving a gloved hand in greeting.





"Did you miss me?" she asked.

I drew Sedric's house:
 
Chapter 13 (1 of 2) Sneaky sneakster.
"Did you miss me?" she asked.



The steadily deepening scowl on the young man's face told Lucille that no, he had not missed her, and in fact wanted her gone, but she ignored the obvious and gave him a wide smile.



"I mean, who wouldn't want a chance to meet the new Head of the Aurelian Commission once more?"



Her rhetorical question quickly turned the dubious expression of Sedric's into a repulsed one, but he shook his head wearily and ran a hand through his lank hair, ignoring the black grease he smeared onto his face in the process. He looked at her with a dark expression.



"Why are you actually here?" he stressed, placing both leather-covered hands onto the countertop.



Lucy grinned and gestured to him. "I'm here to see if you've decided to accept the contract yet."



He stared at her in silence as he leaned against the bench, scowling at her.



She smirked at his reaction and waved a hand. "I'm kidding. I'm here to give you this," she said, pulling out a black card with golden detailing and a tiny purple gemstone in the centre. "Here. This will give you access to my personal floor of the Headquarters. I say, 'personal floor' but it's massive, so don't believe I'm giving you access to my private quarters or anything."



Confused, the brown-haired man took the shiny black card that had been shoved into his face, looking between it and her. He eventually just looked at her again.



"I still have a month, don't I? Why would you give me this?" he asked, more puzzled than he had been in his entire life.



Lucy leaned her elbows on the table between them, exaggeratedly looking around for eavesdroppers. She cupped a hand to her mouth and stage whispered.



"Don't tell anybody, but four representatives of the Counties will be arriving this week and staying for a while for several discussions with me. They're very likely to be the Counts themselves."



The wordless statement of 'Why tell me this' was written across Sedric's face, so Lucy gave a big shrug as she lifted her arms off the countertop.



"Because of security and privacy concerns, gaining access to the Headquarters will be an issue. Very few people outside the Commission know there's a new leader, after all. They'd prefer to keep it that way until the discussions are over. So, this," she said, pointing to the black and gold card, "Is your way of bypassing it all. I'm not sure how long the representatives will be staying, so it's possible I can't leave the Headquarters until they return back to their Counties, which could be at the very end of the month."



She saw him turn the card in his hands around, inspecting it curiously. "But isn't it dangerous to leave something with that much power to me?"



Lucille grinned and pulled out her pocket watch, spinning it around by its chain. "Not when you can disable any access pass remotely with a click of a button. If anybody tries to stop you, press the gem on the front of the card to send me a message. It'll come up in my Faction Authority."



She stopped swinging it, pressing the clasp to pop it open. She hummed as she read the time on the top face of the watch. "I need to get going. Because I said it was a short trip, I could come without an escort, but now it's over, I have quite a lot of things to organise at the Headquarters, so I won't stay any longer. See you soon." She snapped it shut.



Lucy gave him a goodbye wave and turned around to walk out the door. Behind her, Sedric looked down at the card in his hands, then looked at the form of the girl opening the door in front of her. Then he jolted.



"Wait! How do I return this if I don't-"



Slam!



"Want to accept the contract…" he finished as the door shut, dislodging dust from the ceiling. He was once more alone in the room, only the sound of creaking boards in the wind to accompany him. He frowned down at the card in his hands, turning it slowly.



Then he widened his eyes, astounded.



"Does the Aurelian Commission use Ether Crystal Amethyst in their business cards?!"

...

Back at the Aurelian Commission's Headquarters, Lucy whistled tunefully as she walked through the extravagant entranceway of the building, hands in her pockets. Normally, the main reception hall was full of hundreds of people going in and out every hour, but today, the hall was rather silent, except for the sound of a few panicky rushed clerks dashing to and from the elevators to their destinations. She looked around to inspect the huge room in more detail than she had time for earlier in the week.



As was written in the name of the 'Aurelian' Commission, gold was the main theme of the place. From the fixings of the sconces holding the warm-yellow glow of magical light, to the luxurious chandeliers above her head, and even to the embroidery of the tall curtains, gold was present everywhere you looked. Even the floor was covered in a thin plating of metal, polished so well you could see your reflection in it and causing the room to look bigger, and even more impressive, than its already large size seemed. The reception hall reminded her of some of the really expensive older hotels she had been to on Earth in the past with its design. She could say it did partially function as a hotel for the members of the Faction.



The roof above her was arched like the ceiling of a church, but a light beige, giving the entire place a warm atmosphere. The wallpaper was a creamy white patterned with slightly darker beige designs of floral likeness. Many desks were available for people to talk to clerks, although most were empty due to the ongoing preparations for the arrival of the four Counts or their representatives, a rather big event for the nobles of the Faction.



I suppose it's like an unexpected visit from the CEO for these permanent Headquarters employees.



As she walked she could hear the footsteps caused by her heavy boots echo around the hall. Near the series of magic elevators next to the front desks Lucy saw two men talking, one of which she identified as Vincent in his white suit, and the other as a stout, middle-aged man she had met once before when she became the leader a week ago. A thought strand dutifully informed her that the man's name was Gordon Merst.



Her footsteps made the men look up, and Vincent nodded to her in acknowledgement, while Merst hastily gave her a scraping bow. She nodded to the man while she made her way over to Vincent, and he stood back up with a relieved expression.



"Did I miss anything important while I was gone?" she asked them. Vincent shook his head, while the other man gave another deep bow, rubbing his hands together nervously.



"Oh no, definitely not sire! Er, I mean miss. Sir Evisenhardt here has absolutely everything under control, no need to fear! In fact, why don't you head upstairs and just relax, leaving everything in our capable hands, and let us do… it… all….." he slowed his words, withering under the intense glare Vincent gave him.



When Vincent pointed angrily to a door to dismiss him, he bowed deeply once more and quickly scurried off towards the nearest exit, two pairs of eyes watching him leave, one mildly amused and one very exasperated.



Lucy turned towards the silver-haired man next to her with a raised eyebrow. "Remember how yesterday I mentioned nobles are always eager to please?"



Vincent didn't deign to respond, just letting out a long sigh as he pinched his nose bridge. They started walking towards an elevator.



"So, was there something he was trying to hide from me, or did he just misunderstand the relationship between us?" she asked.



"The latter I think," Vincent grumbled, taking out a handkerchief to clean his glasses. "That man can flip a switch between grovelling or condescending quicker than somebody could blink. The instant he feels like he's in a stable position status-wise, he'll push for his agenda, and when he gets anxious, he'll try to flatter every single man with even somewhat significant status to cross his path. This has to be the most fearful he's been in his entire life." He finished, looking a bit happier at the end of his sentence, by Lucy's reckoning.



Vincent put his glasses back on. "But in all honesty, there was something I wanted to discuss with you. Namely, how you're going to approach interactions with the Counts."



Lucy gave a sound of acknowledgment as she placed her own black card into a slot in the elevator. Some things in the Mystical Realm were uselessly high-tech, like the access cards, and some were just backward. The elevator buzzed with the sound of mana circuits, and it moved upwards. Lucy directed her attention back to Vincent.



"You mean all the political schemes that will occur before the meeting even starts."



"Indeed." He responded as they stepped off the elevator into an empty corridor on the 40th floor. They headed to Lucy's living room, and she threw her black coat onto the side of the indigo couch, Vincent taking up a seat on the couch opposite her. She sat down on the plush cushioning and crossed her legs. Vincent looked around.



"I haven't seen your snake friend anywhere recently. Is he fine?"



She waved a hand dismissively. "He recently discovered that Ashale'viaf has a few garden biomes he's trying to keep hidden from him, and so has decided that finding them is his new pet project. Our bond's at least advanced rank, so I know where he is and what he's up to."



Vincent seemed like he couldn't be bothered to react to the casual reveal that Lucy has an advanced rank bond with Scytale at 18, which normally takes 20 years to develop, and just nodded. He leaned back.



"So, what direction will you be trying to approach the Counties from? You seem well-versed enough in politics to understand you need a proper method."



Lucille nodded absentmindedly, slowly drawing on the room's mana to form a small clear orb of mana spiralling in her gloved palm. The orb began to gain a white hazy glow.



"There's going to be several messengers who'll arrive before the meeting to talk to me privately, likely one from each County. So, instead of talking to a specific one or accepting the private talks in any sort of order, I'm going to turn them all away."



He rubbed his chin, frowning slightly, and ignoring the strange new action of Lucy. "Are you going to act like you're indifferent to politics and the Counties?"



She shook her head, white spirals beginning to form on its surface as the orb rotated at higher speeds on her palm. "That's a recipe for disaster. I can't offend the Counties in such a way. No, I want to keep my impression as being as neutral as possible."



He looked up from the table. "But you've already made a connection with me."



She looked around the room, frowning in concentration. "Obviously I've tipped the scales somewhat already, but I won't show any more favouritism to a specific family. Until the meeting, I won't accept any private meetings or gifts and will refuse them all. I need to make sure the benefits each family receives will be equal, so they all increase in power evenly. It would disrupt our supply chains and operations if one family grew inadvisably large in power."



She kept looking around the room, staring at the roof. Then her eyes narrowed when she spotted what she was looking for.



"Then I suppose my family won't be a part of any plans for the short term if I accept your offer of becoming an-"



"Hold on a moment." She spoke abruptly, holding out a hand to pause him. He stopped when he noticed how still she had gone and tried to see what she was looking at too. Then Lucy's mouth curled up in a wicked grin and she spun around on the couch to point the hand with the mana orb at the corner behind her like it was a gun.



BANG!



The white mana-orb at the end of her index finger flew into the corner of the room, and something fell to the floor with a crash. The noise made Vincent violently jerk, and he jumped up.



"What in the realms was that?!" he shouted, heavily alarmed.



Lucy blinked and pointed at the ground behind her couch. "There was a fly." She told him innocently.



Understandably aware that whatever had fallen was not a fly, he warily leaned to the side to see what was on the ground. There, on the light-brown carpet behind Lucille's couch, was a humanoid figure dressed from head to toe in black, frothing at the mouth, with his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. He was unconscious.



Vincent stared at Lucy. "That is a fly?"



She gave him a casual shrug and he barely suppressed a groan. He slowly came closer, dropping down to one knee to look at the eavesdropper better, and lifted the collar of the person's clothes to look for identifying symbols. Lucy tilted her head as she rested it on her arms, peering over the back of the couch.



"Someone from black?" she asked curiously.



Vincent gave her an unamused look, not fooled by her attitude. "From Ravimoux? Undoubtedly so."



He got up and brushed himself down, then folded his arms. "I'm surprised you could even spot him."



Lucille turned around and flopped back on the couch, looking up at the roof. "I think you'll find, if you stick around long enough, that I can do quite a lot."



He didn't answer, just watching the assassin with a complicated expression. "Is he permanently injured?"



She shook her head. "No. Just a mild concussion. My arcane orb didn't have enough force to break anything, as I made sure it would dissipate on contact. It got him here." She said, miming a ball hitting her against the back of her neck. "Most humanoids become unconscious when force is applied to this spot. The spin of my orb made it curve around him."



He eyed her with suspicion. "That's unusually high precision for a low-ranked spell shot by an 18-year-old."



"He wasn't exactly a moving target." She told him wryly.



Vincent rolled his eyes at the lack of a proper answer and looked back at the interloper. "What are you going to do with him?"



She tapped on her chin, thinking. Then she got up off the couch and raised a finger for Vincent. "Wait a minute." She told him.



Vincent raised an eyebrow but did as she asked. Lucy went to the opposite corner of the living room and opened two side-by-side doors, leaning back to look at the man behind her. "There's a kitchen back here." She said by way of explanation, which didn't explain much at all in reality.



He waited with his arms still crossed as he heard the sounds of cupboard doors opening and closing and the metallic clanging of an assortment of unknown objects being pushed aside. A moment later Lucy returned, this time holding a large jug cast out of solid brass in her black-gloved hands.



"So, as Scytale and I were exploring," she began, "We discovered that the kitchen here had a cupboard that was linked to the Founder's vault, allowing us to access a few magic items from there. I had unsealed the cupboard with my Faction Authority." She said. She raised the jug higher for him to see.



"When I was going through the vault's records, I discovered a particular item had been donated one year. Lo and behold, when I checked the other day, it was part of the kitchen's collection. It can transmute mana into any liquid or drink Rare ranked or under, at whatever temperature one wishes."



She moved over to the intruder and looked at Vincent. "I had originally wanted to use this for another purpose first, but I suppose it can be used this way too."



Then, she tipped the jug entirely upside down above the man's head. Out came bitingly cold chilled water that splashed all over the interloper, drenching his clothes and making him wake up with a startled gasp. He looked around with wide eyes while shivering.



"W-Where-"



"Did you have a nice nap?" Lucille asked him pleasantly.



The man froze as he looked up at the other two people in the room, Lucy leaning down with her hands on her knees, and Vincent just watching him with a cautious expression. He scrambled to get up and sat pressed against the wall, looking between the two with a panicky expression.



"W-What do you want from me? U-Uh… information, I can give you information?! Or money!"



The man went pale as Vincent narrowed his eyes at the intruder, shifting his glasses, and Lucy rolled her eyes as she straightened up to look at him with a hand on her hip.



"If this is the standard quality that Ravimoux employs in its services, I fear they won't survive much longer," she said derisively, smirking.



Vincent, having realised what she was doing, held his chin in 'thought'. "I believe he's a disposable piece. They must have planned to cut him off if the plan went awry, so they could claim ignorance. He won't have anything useful to tell us," he stated with an indifferent professional voice.



"Reaaally?" Lucy mused, narrowing her eyes, and smiling wider at the man. "Should we get rid of him?"



Vincent nodded. "I believe that would be the best if he has nothing to contribu-"



"Contribute?! I can contribute! I can be useful!" the man pleaded, trembling violently.



Vincent narrowed his own eyes at the man. "No, I don't think-"



"Wait," Lucille said, holding up a hand to pause him. She looked down at the intruder with an unreadable expression. Then she smiled brightly, hitting a fist against an open palm with an audible smack.



"I have a better idea."



She squatted down so she was eye-level with the dark-cloaked figure, a hand on her chin in thought. "You heard me mention my plans for the private meetings with the representatives, didn't you?" she asked, watching him intently.



The man almost shook his head, but when he saw the look in Lucille's eyes, he understood that would be a mistake and gave a tearful nod of his head instead. "Th-The p-p-part about sending them a-away?" he stuttered.



Lucy gave him another bright smile and straightened up, putting her hands behind her back, and pacing the room. "If I do that, my intentions of remaining politically neutral within the Faction will be known, but I have the chance of offending the representatives as well. That may cause me some difficulties, so if you play your part well…" she said, looking over her shoulder at the man with narrowed eyes.



"I can reduce the hostilities before they overreact."



The interloper vigorously shook his head in agreement, anxious to please the people who held power over his immediate future. Lucy smiled cheerfully once more, continuing to pace around the room. Vincent had a strange expression on his face as he watched her, but when she raised an eyebrow at him for an explanation, he shook his head slightly, so Lucy gave him a slight shrug and moved back in front of the intruder.



She kneeled on one knee and leaned forward to look at the intruder, smiling wickedly.



"If an intruder who was luckily caught by me at the right time heads back to their clan, head held high, and reveals everything that occurred up until before they were caught, then it will work. It'll even be of benefit to the intruder!" she announced, spreading her arms wide as she grinned at the confused man.



"Instead of a subordinate who failed their mission," she told him, "They'll go back as someone who successfully infiltrated the leader's room and discovered their secret plans. Their future will be full of potential when they return in triumph!"



She waited as the man slowly stopped shaking in fear as a dawning realisation of what she meant lit up in his eyes. She leaned forward again so he couldn't look anywhere else but at her face and poked his chest with a long finger.



"A rise in status is guaranteed, so long as you play your part well."



The man still looked a bit unsure, so she stood back up, and then after straightening her clothes with a calm smile on her face, she gave him an exaggerated shrug. "I don't want them to know I found them spying on me. I want to take what advantages I have, and let them stay in the dark about my abilities. Our little agreement won't be revealed from my side."



She spread her arms wide as she took a step back, giving him an 'encouraging' smile.



"What are you waiting for? This opportunity only comes once in a lifetime, you know."



Like a lightning bolt had struck him, the man froze and quickly stood up. He gave them a hasty bow each before he activated some skill that caused his figure to fade from view, his presence disappearing. Lucille watched with narrowed eyes as the soul in her spiritual sense distanced itself from them, and then she moved her gaze to the floor where he had been, gazing at it expressionlessly.



Vincent frowned when she didn't move and walked next to her. "Miss Goldcroft?"



When she still didn't move, he leaned forward to look at her slightly cold expression and waved a hand in front of her. He dropped the formality. "Lucille!"



"Hmm?" she started and turned to the side to face Vincent, her carefree smile back in place. She grinned widely after a moment and held up the jug next to her for him to see. There were no more signs of her strange state. "Well, now that that's done, would you like some tea?"



Vincent couldn't help but be stunned for a second by her nonchalant reaction, but he sighed, having gotten used to it by now, and nodded wearily. He went back to the couch and slumped down on it. Lucy went back to the kitchen to retrieve two cups, whistling merrily and returned holding one teacup and one mug, placing them down on the coffee table.



She poured out some steaming hot tea into the teacup for Vincent and poured a dark liquid into the mug for herself. Then she picked it up and sat down on her couch again, crossing her legs. They enjoyed some silence before Vincent spoke up.



"He could reveal everything to Ravimoux right now, and your plans for him would fail."



Lucille took a long sip of her drink with her eyes closed. "Why would I have plans for someone like him?"



He looked up from his drink with a silver eyebrow raised. "Did you not just tell him to reveal your plans on interacting with the representatives to Ravimoux?"



She opened her eyes to look at Vincent for a moment, before turning sideways to lie across the couch with her feet kicked up. She placed her mug on the table between them and put her hands behind her head.



"Technically it was all the intruder's idea. I told him nothing."



Vincent placed the cup down on the table and crossed his arms, looking at her as if wondering whether to rise to the bait. Eventually, he just shook his head and ignored it.



"Well, if you're so all-knowing to know of a Legendary class in this city, know whether I have reported to my grandfather or not, and whether there was a hidden intruder in this room, then surely you're all-knowing enough to know what my point was?"



……maybe he didn't ignore it then. Lucy gave him a sideways glance, but then huffed and shifted to face him better.



"That wasn't what I meant. What I'm saying is, there was no agreement between him and me, there was no implementation of this on my behalf, and I certainly did not suggest to an assassin of the infamous Ravimoux to not tell their boss that someone is capable of seeing through their County's unique invisibility skills at Rank-0."



That made Vincent blink and with a belated "Ah." he nodded and picked up his tea again.



"Right. Nothing happened. This is all purely hypothetical, not based on true events in the slightest, but what would be your intentions if you had somehow manipulated an intruder into revealing your stance for interactions with the Count's representatives, and had gotten them to pretend their mission went to plan, with no interaction with us at all?"



She smirked at his phrasing and answered him. "I would intend to deal with the intruder in a way that would not incite conflict between the intruder's clan and me while ensuring the intruder has the incentive to prevent knowledge of this event from spreading."



Vincent raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his tea. "Couldn't you have done that by letting the intruder live and you personally telling their clan about it so Ravimo- I mean the hypothetical intruder's clan would be in your debt?"



"That would make things complicated," Lucy said. "A clan wouldn't care about the life of a disposable piece like the 'hypothetical' intruder, so placing them into my 'debt' would give them a way to plant one of their members closer to me in an attempt to pay back said debt. Then would come a trying series of discussions and events where if I took even a little too much aid from the family under the excuse of this 'debt', they would push and pull at me to gain benefits for abusing this lack of equal relationship."



She looked at the man opposite her. "That is the case if I initiated it. If the hypothetical intruder went back and revealed everything voluntarily without my intervention, but kept the supposed deal secret so he wouldn't seem untrustworthy, then the clan would become aware of this 'debt' on their end, and it would then be considered a weakness of theirs because they believe I don't know the intruder revealed everything. They would fear I would discover this 'debt' at the wrong time and force them into a difficult situation."



"If the interloper doesn't reveal all this," she continued, "But then the clan senses something off, pressures him and that causes him to eventually reveal the truth, they'd prefer to stick with the interloper's original story, because the fact I instigated it meant that I am willing to ignore this mistake of theirs for the sake of their goodwill, and there would be an unspoken deal that they would leak my neutral stance in return for forgetting this event."



She leaned forward to grab the jug and pour some more of her drink for herself. "If they don't discover the intruder's story is fake, then they'd be a disappointment to the Faction, but the situation would progress almost the same as if they had later discovered the intruder's story was false, just with less proactive leaking of my neutrality on their part. In the end, the hypothetical intruder in this situation was only a piece, with any of my future actions relying on the family behind him, and so the interloper was never a proper part of my plans."



"Hypothetical, completely fictional plans," Vincent added.



She smiled slyly and nodded. "Hypothetical, completely fictional plans." She agreed.



Vincent hummed and leaned back, tapping his fingers against his other arm. "Why show goodwill to Ravimoux though? This isn't me speaking as an Evisenhardt, but it seems you're emphasizing that County specifically."



Lucy nodded and crossed her legs while lying down, idly kicking a foot up and down. "Paradoxically, to maintain my neutral stance, I almost need to show more favouritism to Ravimoux than the others."



"Oh?" Vincent responded, curious.



"Ravimoux has never had a good reputation." She began, as the man opposite her nodded. "They're the biggest force in the Empire's underworld, and run all the Commission's casinos, black markets, entertainment districts and dark guilds. If it was all illegal, they wouldn't be capable of functioning as a noble clan of the Empire, but, indeed, they're not as well-liked or someone's first choice when it comes to collaborating with one of the four Counties."



She took another sip of her drink and looked at Vincent with a smile. "I can understand why they made such a hasty move in trying to discover my plans. Young nobility can be… rather impressionable and very few of the more mainstream future nobles have the flexibility of mind to accept using a clan like Ravimoux in their forces, or if they did, they wouldn't use it as much as the more 'honourable' or 'praiseworthy' methods."



She smirked. "A proud young naïve leader who decides to wipe out the 'dark, evil, and treacherous' Ravimoux clan is the best choice for the prosperity of the Commission would be an understandably terrible catastrophe for the Faction and Ravimoux. Dealing with them in the way I did means I'm acknowledging the fact that Ravimoux is a necessary evil and that I'm willing to treat them as equals to the other Counties. It also shows them that I'm not someone who can be easily manipulated."



Vincent gave a nod of acknowledgment at that, seemingly content with her explanation, although he still raised an eyebrow as he took another sip of tea. "But if they didn't discover the intruder's story was false, then they wouldn't receive your message."



Lucy scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. "You've seen the personality of that intruder. With that backbone, he could only ever be a sacrifice or a good actor. In the first case, do you think he'd be able to keep the deal secret when pressured by the clan?"



Vincent thought for a bit, his arms crossed, but had to nod in agreement.



Lucille continued. "In the case that he's a good actor… then he'll probably reveal everything that happened and then Ravimoux would know what I wanted. In the end, any private meetings we have after I meet with the four Counts will clear things up. In the large scheme of things, this tiny hiccup is irrelevant."



He nodded in understanding and drank his tea. She blinked and turned to him when she realised something. "I've actually been meaning to ask you about something. Have you ever heard of the Vadels?"
 
Chapter 13 (2 of 2) Sneaky sneakster.
"Have you ever heard of the Vadels?"



The man frowned slightly as he tapped his fingers on the couch's armrest in thought. "The name rings a bell, but I can't remember where I've heard it before. Members of the Faction?"



Lucille nodded and swung her feet around, sitting back up on the couch. "I was in a frontier region a while ago and happened to meet two young noble cousins who had said their surname was Vadel, one a mage, and the other a manager who wore the Alichanteu's Faction insignia."



Vincent paused and then nodded. "Of course. The Vadels are a Baron family from a Major Kingdom. I believe they own several alchemy stores and are responsible for part of a city's operation in their Viscounty." He frowned again. "Why would they be in a frontier region?"



"That's what I would like to discover." She responded. "The manager said he was there on a holiday, but it was painfully obvious that wasn't true."



"The Commission's businesses are targeted towards the Empire and Mystical Realm, which is predominately made up of humanoid beings. If a manager went to a frontier region of the Beast Realm, where his title holds little power to protect him, then he's either foolish or has another agenda." He thought aloud, crossing one leg over the other. "Although…" he continued, looking slightly troubled. "I have heard interesting rumours about the state of the Blue County."



"Its state?" Lucille asked, leaning forward to listen intently. "They're not selling off property or getting into debt are they?"



"Nothing so extreme." Vincent refuted. "As a member of the main bloodline with very weak inheritance rights, I'm not kept too up to date about these things, but I've heard they're going through a succession war of some sort."



She leaned back with an eyebrow raised incredulously. "A succession war? And nobody knows about this?"



He shrugged. "It's written in the Faction rules that the Counties are not to get involved with each other besides occasionally collaborating and dealing with Faction emergencies. We are merchant clans first and foremost, and so, as long as a Count has talent enough that it keeps the County afloat, we'll accept it. Our bloodline loyalties aren't particularly strong compared to other Empire nobility in the first place."



She nodded but still wanted to know more. "Why are they having a succession war at all?"



"I heard some time ago the Alichanteu Count collapsed, but Evisenhardt hasn't heard of any either good or bad developments occurring from it, or if they have, they haven't told me." He told her. "Alichanteu strictly follows the tradition of the current Count's descendants being the main bloodline, and so they only have three major successors this generation from the Count's blood, as he only had one son, who died twenty years ago. The third and youngest successor, his granddaughter, has expressed no interest in politics, and so the County is split between supporting the eldest or the middle child, both male."



"Different mothers?" Lucy asked. Vincent nodded and she hummed. "If the Counties don't have much publicly available information on the internal status of the Alichanteu, then I'm assuming they can't tell which side holds the greater power either. I suppose we'll be able to tell by seeing which successor comes as their representative. I remember you said only the Alichanteu Count wouldn't be coming in person."



She frowned slightly. "That means the weaker side will plant one of their members besides the representative so they can observe our interactions and have a private discussion with me. If they don't, then it means something else has happened."



She looked off into the distance with a far look, reviewing her plans for the meeting. "If they're from different mothers, it is possible that some other force is trying to involve themselves in the Faction's politics. That might endanger the Commission's neutral status, and if so, I could potentially need to involve myself with the Alichanteu more directly under the pretext of protecting our neutrality."



She returned her gaze to the table and leaned forward to pick up her mug. "This might be extremely profitable if I play my cards right."



Vincent eyed her suspiciously. "That sounds distinctly ominous."



When she didn't say anything and just grinned, he sighed and leaned back in defeat. "It seems whatever you're planning on doing at the meeting doesn't just involve the plans you gave me, from my perspective. Would I be able to hold back on answering your request about becoming an aide until after the meeting?"



"Do as you see fit," Lucille said, giving him a small wave. "Can I ask you to look into that 'holiday' of the Vadels?"



He nodded. "I was planning on doing that regardless. It could be a clue to discovering what is happening within the strangely silent County and would probably interest Evisenhardt to know of this as well." He said, looking slightly hesitant as he glanced at her. "Do you mind if-"



"I don't care if you reveal that to them," Lucy replied, understanding what he wanted. "Just make sure to tell me if Evisenhardt discovers anything else in return."



He dipped his head in agreeance before looking up. "Do you have any names to start the search?"



She tapped on her chin in thought. "The navy-blue-haired mage was called Marellen, I believe." She closed her eyes to review her memories in more detail. "The blonde manager was called… hmm…. " She snapped her fingers. Not that she needed to think that long with her eidetic memory. "Efratel. That was it."



"I'll relay that to my grandfather. Although, I've been meaning to ask something ever since we sat down and used that jug." He said, looking at the mug in her hands.



"What are you drinking? It looks rather dark to me."



Lucille blinked and then smiled as she tilted the mug for him to see inside.



"Yes, well, I do love my coffee black."



Unfortunately for Vincent, her response didn't actually tell him what coffee was.




- Sometime during the end of July -

In the golden light of the afternoon sun, an icy blanket of snow gleamed and glistened, the world completely silent besides the rustling of leaves from a few distant trees. The ground was still and unmoving, and few would know that an avalanche had passed through the area just a few moments ago unless they noticed the odd branch sticking out of the white surface now and then. Besides five specific individuals.



Crunch.



Instead of branches, in one certain area, the icy carpet was punctured by a tanned hand, after which was revealed to be connected to a long arm, then shoulder, and then upper body as a brown-haired, green-eyed man with ice crystals still coating the tips of his hair pushed himself up and wiggled his way out of the thick snow. He vigorously shook his head to remove the crystals and stood up, planting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area.



"That was a much wilder ride than I remembered signing up for." Garthe Barbosas announced, looking around at the havoc wreaked by the man-made avalanche that descended upon the convoy in the Permafrost Glacial Abode.



Then he yelped as a cold pale hand wrapped itself around his ankle, and he waved his arms around to regain his balance as a raven-haired woman, still spitting out ice, pulled on his leg to raise herself out of the snow.



Larena Barbosas gazed up at him, unimpressed. "If you have time to reflect on your experiences, you have time for other things. Help me up."



Garthe hastily grabbed her arms to pull her out, and she stood back up, brushing off the ice particles coating her black-leather pants. "Are the others fine?" she asked at last, frowning slightly as she looked for signs of the rest of her party.



"Should be. The skill only cut out a minute ago, which was when I decided to try to get out. I felt three mana connections coming from around here, here, and somewhere over there." He said, pointing to three different spots with vague gestures of his hand. "I'm hoping we'll sense their mana when we get closer. Luckily none of them got pushed over the cliff. The avalanche was at the end of its run."



She nodded and they set to work trying to find areas where the snow dipped slightly or seemed to move, looking for signs of the others being underneath the thick icy layer. Garthe spotted a mop of messy navy-blue hair sticking out of the snow at one point, so after a bit of digging he managed to pull out a very bedraggled-looking Marellen, who coughed and spluttered as he tried to peer around, his glasses askew. Eventually, he straightened up once he had fixed them and looked at Garthe.



"That was an interesting skill you used. Or was it a spell? Wait, no mana-circle." He said, shaking his head and sending bits of snow scattering. "So, skill. From what my mana-sense tells me, it had a rather high ratio of wood mana rather than earth, which makes it rather interesting how it functioned so well when ice and water mana are so predominant here in this region. I suppose the linking mechanisms allowed it to draw on the mana of other-"



"Time for that later, bud. There's still two more buried, one of which is your cousin." Garthe told him, slightly exasperated.



Marellen blinked his eyes in belated realisation as he noticed their surroundings, and Garthe shook his head wryly. Suddenly, they both flinched as they heard a muffled sound coming from their right, below the snowy carpet.



"Excuse me." Came the elegant, refined and very cold voice of Roa Winteridge who did not seem to be happy.



They turned to see a small mound of snow strewn with cracks on the ground, slowly moving up and down, but not breaking. Garthe and Marellen shared a look before they both scrambled to dig into the ground. With a little effort, they both leaned back as a fiery-coloured glowing stone made its appearance before them, attached to an ash-grey staff. They looked down the hole to see Roa standing within a deep hollow area in the ground, the snow melding together to form a glass-like surface all around her. She gestured with the staff to the small cave around her.



"I attempted to melt the ice around myself using a weak fireball, expecting I could use my ice magic to form a tunnel. Unfortunately, the magical signature of the spell-caster still infests this artificial avalanche we found ourselves buried under, so I couldn't move any of the snow after it had refrozen, causing me to find myself in this predicament. I don't believe I can get out using magic, and will need you, Garthe, who has the physique of a warrior, to aid me in leaving." She narrowed her eyes. "Preferably now. Before I get angry." She added, seeing they hadn't moved.



The two men looked down at her and then looked at each other.



"Do you think that was elf-speak for 'oh please help me great and mighty handsome warrior, I need your suuuper strong fit body to lift me up'?" Garthe asked.



Marellen frowned and scratched the side of his face. "I think that was actually 'Get me out you insufferable male imbeciles before I incinerate you both'. The cool tone of her voice makes it sound more pleasant."



They sheepishly looked down as the snow elf gave a long drawn-out sigh and rubbed her temples, glaring at them both. "Remove me from this icy pit before it becomes your eternal grave."



Marellen shrugged when Garthe raised an eyebrow at him. "Close enough."



Before she could get angrier, Garthe shifted in preparation for hopping down. "My stats should let me jump out after I help her."



But Marellen held out a hand to stop him. "I think I have a better idea."



Then, with closed eyes, he held out both his palms. "Wiferal's Breath." He murmured, and then, tiny streams of white mana appeared above his palm, growing thicker by the second. They flowed idly above his palm until something changed, and the mana flowed over his fingers to fall into the icy hollow. White strands quickly turned into bigger streams as the mana flowed across Marellen's palms down into the cave, pooling below Roa until it disappeared. Then her cloak flapped about her as she was slowly lifted into the air. When she reached the opening, she hopped off the invisible wind current and straightened her clothes and hair. She turned to them.



"Thank you." She said stiffly, dipping her head to Marellen in acknowledgment. Then without a word to Garthe she turned around and stormed off with her head held high, the orange glow of her staff flickering brightly, walking towards Larena. She didn't look back.



Garthe had an injured expression, a hand placed above his heart. "What did I do?"



Marellen didn't say anything in the way of comfort or explanation, so Garthe shrugged and started heading towards the direction of their final party member. "No mana-circle?" he said, looking at Marellen curiously.



He shook his head. "Not for this level of spell. You're getting a mage confused with a wizard. Mages don't need to form mana circles to cast basic elemental manipulation as a consequence of the runic models in our mana pools. Not that we can't use them, but only wizards build mana-circles to cast low-ranked spells because of their heart circles. We have much more direct control over our mana, although not as much as elementalists and sorcerers."



They both sneakily glanced at Roa, who was conversing with Larena. The snow-elf faintly scowled at them when she saw them watching but gestured for them to come over, so the two men changed their path to head over.



"Where did you say you sensed your final connection?" she asked, gesturing to the snowy expanse beside them. Garthe rubbed his chin as he tried to remember.



"I think it was near that tree." He said, pointing towards an old pine, barely still standing after the force of the icy disaster. Roa nodded and started making her way over there, boots sinking into the snow with every step.



"The lesser ice spirits in the area are revealing to me that they can sense warmth emanating from that direction. It is likely to be where our final member lays."



"Can you not make it sound like he's dead?" Garthe complained, rubbing his arms in the cold.



Roa gave him a dirty look, but Larena pushed in front before she could say anything. She tapped a boot on the ground, looking for hollow space below, and when her boot dipped in slightly, she bent down and pushed an arm into the snow. She gestured to Garthe.



"A little help please."



Garthe likewise got down and sunk his arms into the snow, then they pulled, and a platinum-blonde-haired head emerged, followed by an upper body. They sat Efratel against the tree as Roa got down and formed a small orb of orange between her palms, placing it near him so he could be warmed up by the heat. He was looking remarkably worse for wear than the other four. His grey suit was damp, clinging to him, and he couldn't stop his teeth from chattering or his body from shivering. Larena glared at the two other men.



"Please be aware that it is crucial you don't leave someone under Rank-3 in the snow for very long unless they have a build with high CON. He clearly does not." She berated the two, both looking rather guilty.



Larena returned her gaze to Efratel once he had stopped shivering so violently. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You've got some pretty big explaining to do." She stated simply.



Efratel grimaced and shakily began to stand up. "Y-Ye-Yeah." He stammered, still shivering as he wrapped his arms around himself.



"B-But first, could we g-get somewhere a b-bit w-w-warmer?"







A few days later, thanks to the help of the two mages' fire spells and Larena's decent hunting abilities, they managed to make it to the Ascendant City the convoy had been heading to. They had searched briefly for survivors back at the avalanche site, but no one was found, and so they found themselves in a small warm inn, enjoying the sensations of civilization once more. Specifically, the sights, sounds and smells of good food.



"Mmmm," Garthe said, stretching his arms after he had cleaned his plate. He blinked his vibrant green eyes at the other occupants of the table. "Now what?"



"Now," Larena began, focusing intently on Efratel, "We hear what he has to say."



With a silent wave of Marellen's staff, a white barrier of wind mana formed around their group, masking their words from the ears of other people.



Efratel sighed as all eyes at the table turned to him, and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "Let me just begin by saying that getting squashed by a magical avalanche was not on the agenda." He stated dryly.



Garthe scoffed. "That much is obvious. Who would willingly try to get killed by an avalanche?" he remarked mockingly. He quickly shut up and shrunk into his seat when Larena glared at him.



Efratel ignored the noisy adventurer, clasping his hands together on the table. "Please understand," he continued, looking at each of them in turn, "That all of this is either my conjecture or based on very sparse knowledge of what my superiors wanted."



They all nodded, so he took a breath to collect himself and began the explanation. "As I, or the convoy, was a disposable piece as seen by the avalanche, I believe we were a decoy."



They all gave him varying reactions to that statement. Marellen looked thoughtful, and in the case of Roa, she carefully listened to what he would say next. He shifted in his chair to get comfortable and continued.



"The Alichanteu are the clan of the Commission that interacts the most with the smaller businesses and vassal nobility of the Faction. They own everything from entire cities to grand palaces, hotels of nobles, to production facilities, and even the stores of businesses. They are the clan which have the easiest time expanding, and so the excuse of trying to gain a foothold in one of the Beast Realm's frontier regions can be easily explained away." He paused to make sure they were all following and continued when he could see that they were. "There wasn't anything of importance that the convoy had been transporting. There was no item, or treasure, to be sent to this Ascendant City."



"They only needed it to seem like there was." Larena realised, gazing at the table with her eyebrows furrowed. "I suppose they needed a real Commission member to be here so it would seem realistic."



Efratel nodded, while Larena looked up. "But why would they even need a decoy? Was there an enemy?"



He hesitated, but when he saw their focused expressions, he sighed and rubbed his neck. "Please, please, please don't tell anybody what I'm going to say next. I'm only saying this because I owe you my life, and you almost lost yours."



The others traded curious glances and watched him with an expectant look, but nodded, so he continued. "Alichanteu is actually in a state of internal conflict. The Count collapsed some time ago due to a past necromantic wound re-emerging somehow, and so his two grandsons with succession rights are fighting over the position. The avalanche was a result of this conflict."



Garthe leaned back with his arms crossed, his eyes glinting menacingly, while Larena scowled. "Really? We all got caught up in some petty little noble game, and it was just bad luck? Just being used as a sacrifice?"



It was Roa who looked up from where she had been frowning at the table, trading glances with Marellen, before shaking her head. "That isn't it."



They all turned to look at her, including Efratel, all of them curious about her explanation. She tapped on the gemstone embedded in her staff next to her. "Any personage with elf heritage has heightened senses to spiritual energy, and those with more pure heritage, such as pure-blooded elves, can see the spirit realm that the World Tree touches overlaid over everything within the realm. This phenomenon only exists in the realms with normal mana, such as the Beast Realm and the Mystical Realm. For obvious reasons, the Demon Realm is excluded from this, but I am able to see and communicate with spirits almost anywhere within those other realms."



She gestured to the inn's door. "Spirits form contracts with us to absorb the mana of the physical realms, so they can gain a physical form like elementals or even fae. They are therefore very attentive to unique mana, much more than any mortal race could be. I do not believe there were no special items within the convoy. I believe there were several. The convoy wasn't meant to be attacked." She finished.



The others looked a bit stunned by that revelation, including Efratel. He frowned at the circular wooden table, a hand on his chin. "This might be a bigger event than I thought."



Garthe sent a sneaky glance towards the door, a sly grin on his face. "Do you think we should go back and dig these items up?"



He held up his hands in a symbol of surrender as Larena gave him a withering look and Roa a frosty glare. "I was kidding, kidding!"



Marellen was still frowning as he looked at the table, and Roa noticed this. "What happens to be the matter?"



He blinked, shaken out of his deep thought. "Oh, I was just…" he frowned again after a moment as he looked at Efratel with a complicated expression. "…do you recognise the spell that summoned the avalanche?" he asked him, looking troubled.



Efratel froze and covered his mouth with his hand, wide-eyed. After a pause, he slowly moved to rub his eyes. "I… thought I had just been seeing things."



Marellen slowly nodded and leaned back with a sigh. The other three watched their interaction with curiosity, and Larena cocked an eyebrow. Feeling slightly weary, Marellen decided to explain after his cousin remained silent.



"The… Alichanteu don't have solid blue hair like the other Counties have their hair colours." he began. "That's not to say they don't have the element represented by it, but it usually manifests itself in their eye colour and hair tips rather than their full hair colour. When it does manifest like that, the Alichanteu clan member has an extremely high talent in water element manipulation. Without exception. Quite a few times a mage with blue hair in Alichanteu has earned a seat in the Blue Order of All-Aeon Athenaeum." He said, frowning once more as he considered what that meant. The others drew in a few small gasps of surprise.



"About four centuries ago, one of these blue-haired irregulars was born to the main bloodline of Alichanteu. He's now the 43rd ranked Seat of the Blue Order, with a dual membership of the Ice Tower as a double class of mage and wizard. His name is Merkenia Pristine Alichanteu, the Archmage of Everlasting Glaciers. And that avalanche spell is the signature move he developed, his Grand spell, albeit weakened for the purposes of masking the avalanche as an accident."



They all went silent, absorbing this new information. Larena tapped her long nails on the oak table as she glanced at Marellen. "How certain are you that this was him? Couldn't the spell caster just have been mimicking the avalanche concept, trying to pretend they were this Archmage? Or possibly just thinking that making the attack look like an accident would've been good and that they had no intention of alluding to Merkenia's potential involvement?"



Marellen shook his head, shifting his navy hair that reached his shoulders, as Efratel gave a bitter laugh. "Oh no, that was definitely the Archmage. It may come as a surprise to you all, but my cousin here is actually a rather desired talent." He said, tapping the man next to him. He shook his head wryly. "A few years ago, the young nobility of the Alichanteu and their vassals gathered together for a series of social events. Marellen was born with a Minor affinity for all six essential elements, meaning he could take whatever path he wanted in the future for his magic."



He gave them a slightly weary smile. "Merkenia visited Marellen repeatedly each day for a month straight, trying to tempt him into becoming his student. Eventually, he gave up, but due to the number of times the Archmage demonstrated his magic to Marellen in an attempt to impress him, there is nobody within the young nobility of the Faction who knows the Archmage's mana signature best."



Marellen nodded. "Without a doubt, that was the Pristine Archmage's mana."



Larena leaned back, and they all considered the implications of his involvement.



"So…" Garthe began. "Apart from the fact he almost killed us, why is it bad that this Archmage in particular sabotaged the convoy?"



"The Archmage is part of my side of the succession war. My own force betrayed me." Efratel stated flatly.



Garthe winced. "Ohhh…. yeah, that's not good…"



Efratel rolled his eyes and sighed. "The question is: will I be killed if I return alive, or will they not realise what happened?"



There was a moment of silence before Garthe abruptly put his hands on the table and stood up. "Well, that's our job done. Time to give us our pay so we can get out of here. We will still be paid, won't we?"



Then there was a loud scuffle as Larena jabbed a mana-enhanced elbow into his side, making him fall off his chair, and sending him curling up into a fetal position on the ground. She turned to Efratel, ignoring the pained groans coming from the green-eyed man.



"I sincerely apologise. This was why I joined this trip, to show him how nobility works. Obviously he still has more to learn."



Efratel looked at the wheezing man on the ground for a second before chuckling as he turned back to Larena. "I'm sure this has been an interesting experience for him. Yes, you will still get your pay. In fact, I'll double it." He said, pulling out a dimensional pouch from the inside of his suit jacket. He counted out the rose crowns and passed them to them all, minus Marellen.



"Why don't I get any?" The mage wondered aloud.



Efratel raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you want a monthly budget increase? I mean, if you really want to be paid only once…"



"Ah, no, I'm fine," Marellen replied hastily, waving his hands. Efratel rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.



"If it helps," began Roa, who had been thinking over the whole convoy situation, "I don't think they'll care if you return alive. It would only be dangerous if you revealed you know who was responsible for the attack, or that it was an attack in the first place." Then she turned to Marellen. "However, if they find out Marellen was with you…"



Efratel widened his eyes as he understood her implications. "Marellen knows the mana signature of the Archmage. Everyone is aware of how the Archmage tried to tempt him into becoming his student by showing him spells and should be familiar with them. They'll assume he's told me who attacked the convoy."



She nodded solemnly. "Indeed." She looked between them both, her expression complicated. "I… have heard that if you become the private manager of a mage of the All-Aeon Athenaeum's Academy, you and the mage will have political immunity for that period. The Archmage will not be able to touch you if you become Marellen's point of contact while he joins the Academy." Then she frowned and shook her head sadly. "Although, that would require a sponsor, and I'm not certain who could be willing to accept the repercussions of sponsoring you both after this."



Efratel sighed and nodded in thanks. "I'll keep that information in mind. Thank you, Roa."



She nodded coolly in return and the conversation lapsed into a lull, broken only by the sound of Garthe getting off the floor to get into his seat.



Larena clapped her hands loudly to get everyone's attention, then gave them all a smile. "While this journey has had plenty of hiccups, this has been one of the few times I've truly enjoyed everyone's company. So, I have a little gift for all of you."



They looked up at her, blinking curiously. Then she turned to Garthe. "Except for you. It's useless for you."



While Garthe sat there in stunned silence by the apparent exclusion, Larena got out three small black circular objects from within her black dimensional pouch. Efratel, Roa and Marellen picked them all up curiously, inspecting the raised icons and symbology on either side. One side held a rather morbid image of a loosely bandaged opened hand being stabbed through with a silver knife, while the other side only had the engraved words 'Larena M. Barbosas'.



"This," Larena began, smirking as she pointed to the coin-like token in Efratel's hand, "Is a token of friendship from the Black Hand. It also functions as a referral letter."



She reached forward and plucked the round token from Efratel, who was looking at it with interest and turned it around to show them her silver name on one of the sides. "Normally, you need either high status or deep pockets to even gain access to one of the branches of the Black Hand Mercenary Guild. However, as my private token owners, you can skip all that to send me a message through my Guild. I might still ask you for a high wage," she said, winking at Efratel, "But it will allow me to give you priority when I choose to take on a mission."



Then she turned to the two mages. "Both of you have amazing talents for magic, much greater than most I've seen your age. Marellen knows amazing theorems and understands magic with a much greater depth than many, while you Roa, have no limitations imposed upon your magic by either your heritage or your affinities, and can use them with just as much power as each other. Don't ignore one of them, as unused talent is one of the greatest mistakes one could make as an Ascendant."



Both of them blinked at the unexpected praise and advice, while Larena turned to Efratel.



"And I'm not going to give up a chance to make a connection with one of the rich managers of the Commission!" she teased, making Efratel roll his eyes, but smile in amusement. She threw it back to him. "I'm not going to be able to protect you from the mighty forces of an Archmage, obviously, but if things play out well and you survive, then I won't mind collaborating with you sometime."



He nodded and pocketed the black token. Larena looked at Garthe, who was seeming much less disappointed about not earning a gift after he saw what it was.



"I suppose we better get going. My break is almost over, so Garthe and I should probably take this chance to use the Obelisk."



They all nodded and got up from the table and headed outside the inn. After a few goodbyes and well wishes, Garthe, Larena and Roa headed to the Obelisk at the centre of the city, leaving Efratel and Marellen standing outside, snow gently falling on them.



Efratel turned to Marellen with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know... I think I might have to send you to the Academy after all."



The navy-haired mage groaned while Efratel chuckled. Then the manager rubbed his chin.



"Wasn't the Archmage connected to another outside force besides Alichanteu? Do you remember anything, Marellen?"



Marellen hummed and looked down in thought, tapping a foot on the ground. Eventually, he looked back up at Efratel.



"I think he was married to a distant relative of one of the Eternal Duchies."




Four people were standing outside a pair of dark double oak doors. Two of them had scarlet hair and wore ruby-red armour, guarding the doors, but the other two were dressed differently, one a female with long straight black hair, and the other a tall male with silvery hair wearing half-moon glasses.



Today, Lucille was wearing different clothes than her normal high-necked tops and long black coats. She had ditched the coat for a sleeveless brown leather vest, and she wore a long-sleeved dark-grey shirt and black tie. Her shirt pocket held the violet pocket watch. She turned to Vincent as she pulled on black gloves, the man himself wearing his normal white suit, if with a diamond brooch pinned to his jacket.



"That should be it. Anything else I might need to do?" she asked, shifting her mask to fit in place better. Vincent shook his head, holding a folder in his arms.



"Hmm." Mused Lucy, who turned back to the doors. "Well then, I suppose it begins."



Then after gesturing to the two ruby-armoured guards, she put her hands behind her back and stepped forward through the open doors into the dark room within. When she saw who was inside, she fixed a calm smile on her face and gave a bow.



"Good afternoon Gentleman. As introductions are in order, I will begin first. My name is Lucille Adrienne Goldcroft." She announced.
 
Chapter 14 (1 of 2) Endgame Bosses - Corporate Edition.
"Good afternoon Gentleman. Introductions are in order, so I will begin first. My name, is Lucille Adrienne Goldcroft."



She straightened up and observed the room and its inhabitants with narrowed eyes, still smiling. The room itself was circular, with no windows, and only a single light fixed to the roof providing visibility. The doors had already shut behind her. In the middle of the room was a small round table. There were five seats evenly spaced around it, four of which were occupied. She looked at the fifth seat, the one which had a yellow topaz embedded in its back and walked towards it.



"I suppose this seat is mine." She said, sitting down, and none of the others moved to stop her. Vincent, after putting down the thick folder before her, walked behind one of the other people in the chairs and stood behind him. She nodded and looked around the room to observe the people within in clearer detail.



Vincent was standing behind a silver-haired man Lucy would place anywhere from in his late 50s to early 60s, although she knew visual looks didn't reflect actual age in the Tower. The man had a short goatee and neat hair, his eyes reflecting a cunning glint as he analysed Lucy's actions and behaviour. He was the Evisenhardt Count, dressed in a light grey suit and wearing a matching white diamond brooch to Vincent. He had a cane leaning against the table.



Left of Vincent was a stern man appearing like he was in his late twenties, and very visually similar to Vincent in appearance. His hair was more flat than Vincent's however, he didn't wear glasses, and his expression was a tad colder than the man by his side. She assumed that was one of Vincent's older brothers.



Next to the Evisenhardt Count was a rugged man appearing in his 40s, with wild red hair and greying sideburns. His rough tanned skin bore the marks of several faded scars above his short beard, and his bulky frame was obvious as he crossed his arms, gazing solemnly at her with brown eyes. His scarlet hair made it obvious he was the Count of Chavaret, the clan famous for their blacksmithing and strong mercenary armies.



Behind him with a greatsword strapped to his back was a younger man in his mid-30s, a wild mane of red hair reaching the middle of his back visible from where Lucy was sitting. He wore a mixed assortment of hardy leather and red metal armour, and a thick scar could be seen on one of his forearms. She knew he was one of the sons of Count Chavaret. He appeared relaxed, but Lucille could see him gazing at the doors and other Counts, watching for possible threats.



The figure in the third chair was rather underwhelming compared to the people beside him, whether it be in looks or in atmosphere. Dressed in a deep blue jacket, the formal kind with luxurious tassels and clasps, the young man in his mid-twenties seemed to be rather nervous and fidgeted a bit in his seat, his skin tone slightly pale. The man had deep blue eyes, and his long blonde hair ended in blue tips, showing he had a strong water affinity. Behind him was a grey-haired man in blue mage robes holding a staff, smiling amicably. Lucy could see traces of a fine mist blooming around him, the elemental manifestation of a High-mage of water.



The last figure, on Lucy's left, didn't seem to have anyone behind him, but that didn't necessarily mean he was unaccompanied. Dressed in a plain, short-sleeved black shirt and black leather pants, the man in his late twenties had slicked-back black hair, dark green eyes and a small beauty mark under his left eye. His bare right arm had a thick black tattoo curling all the way up to his shoulder. He leaned one elbow on the table, chin on his hand. When he saw her looking at him, he smirked and gave her a wave. That man was the Count of Ravimoux. Lucille narrowed her eyes when she saw his reaction but didn't say anything and returned her focus to the centre of the table.



All the people had been observing her during this time as well, and when it became obvious they had finished, the Count of Evisenhardt smiled jovially and stood up, holding out a hand to her. She mirrored his actions as she likewise stood up with a calm smile on her face, taking care not to seem too hurried, and shook his hand firmly.



"It seems promising times are ahead for the Faction." Began Count Evisenhardt. "We haven't had a Faction Head since the Founder. I must thank you for taking care of my youngest grandson during this time." He said, smiling brightly. He took a step back and placed a hand on his chest, giving her a slight bow. "My name is Sevastian Edgar Evisenhardt."



She gave him a wide smile and nodded back to him. "He can be a bit troublesome, but I've managed."



Count Evisenhardt gave a light laugh as Vincent pushed up his glasses, giving her a slight glare. She noticed his brother was looking at him with an odd expression, and she smirked, but didn't comment. Her perception field told her that the young Alichanteu man was about to get up off his seat, but the mage behind him put a firm hand on his shoulder and gently shook his head.



There was a loud scraping noise as the tall Count Chavaret pushed his chair back as he stood up, towering over her. Count Evisenhardt moved out of the way to let the man hold out a large hand for her to shake. She took it and the man let out a low grunt, observing it with bushy eyebrows before letting go.



"Hmm. Not a warrior then. Donovan Raymond Chavaret."



She smiled and shrugged. "Unfortunately, my talents lie in magic. Although, that might change." She said, gesturing to the doors. "I have a pair of soulbound sentient weapons you might want to have a look at."



"Oh?" he responded, looking at her curiously. "What kind?"



She grinned. "Demonic and spirit."



That made him raise his eyebrows as he inspected her again, before the young man from Alichanteu came around him. He gave her a slight bow and smiled winningly at her.



"Artair Sandrell Alichanteu. As my grandfather is… otherwise indisposed, I have come as his representative for this meeting. Please forgive him for not being able to visit you during this time." He said, giving her a deeper bow this time.



"I see…" she said, with narrowed eyes. Then she smiled and nodded back to him. "Well, as long as you have the authority to make decisions on his behalf during your visit here, then I suppose it will be fine."



She pretended to ignore the way his smile became slightly strained after she had said that and smiled at the High-mage who had been watching them intently from behind him. The mage blinked and gave a slight bow when he saw he had her attention and then went back to his normal expression. The black-haired man behind her lazily stood up from his chair, and with one hand in his pocket, he held out the other for her to shake.



"And I am Regulus Fardevrio. I believe you are already aware of my last name, so I will avoid stating redundancies." He said, smirking. She noticed the other Counts had interesting expressions to his sentence, Count Evisenhardt twitching an eyebrow and Count Chavaret just crossing his arms to gaze at the man.



Lucy smiled and shook his hand. "Well then, I'm glad to meet you Count Ravimoux."



The man chuckled, while the others showed exasperation when she had her back turned. They made their way back to their seats, and Lucille leaned forward to clasp her hands on the table.



"Now then." She began. "I'm sure you have many questions, so we should start with that."



Count Ravimoux leaned forward and gestured to her right eye, smirking. "What happened to that, may I ask?"



She narrowed her eyes at him, but calmly put a hand to her black mask and removed it, placing it down on the table. The others looked at her golden eye curiously, including Vincent, not expecting the unique colouration within.



"I have a foreign object within it I would rather not remove at this particular junction. It is of little consequence. Were there any other, slightly more important questions?" she asked wryly, returning the mask to her face. Count Ravimoux grinned but leaned back in his seat.



Count Evisenhardt spoke up first. "Well, It has been revealed to me that you have a number of interesting plans for the Commission, the specifics of which I am unfortunately unfamiliar with." He said, shooting a pointed glare at Vincent, who avoided eye contact. He turned back to Lucille and gave her a cunning grin.



"I believe that is one question I would love answered."



She nodded in acknowledgment, while Count Ravimoux leaned forward again. "What would I like to know is who exactly is Lucille Goldcroft?" he said, a slight smile on his lips. He shrugged when he saw her gaze. "There is frustratingly little information on you."



They all turned to her, wordlessly asking for her answer. She leaned back relaxedly in her seat. "I have told Vincent of this before, but I come from an unassimilated world under a rather strong info lock. The most I can tell you is that I come from a family with a history of business, and that I am human. Anything beyond that will require your private investigation, because I'm unsure what will actually be revealed if I try to tell you about it."



Count Ravimoux let out a hum and leaned back, eyeing her with an unreadable expression. He smirked and gave her a shrug once more, seemingly willing to accept her answer. The others slowly nodded, seeing that if the County responsible for information was fine with it, then they could be too. Count Chavaret grunted as he leaned forward, eyeing her with a serious look.



"I believe your actual origins do not matter, as long as you act with intentions to benefit the Faction. We won't be able to discover anything more about you without seeing how you work, so let's see these plans of yours."



The others gave acknowledging nods, so Lucy smiled and opened the folder on her desk. She handed out forms to each of them, picking up her own to start explaining. "Firstly, let me begin by saying I am willing to invest 10% of the Founder's vault into the businesses of the Commission over the course of the next five years."



"Only 10%?" spoke Artair. The others looked to him for a moment, and Lucy tilted her head at him, eyes narrowed.



"Nobody has checked the records of the Founder's vault for a few centuries, so I suppose it is normal for you to not know, but the total monetary value of the contents of the vault is estimated to be about 100 million crystalline tokens, from the records I have seen. 10% is 10 million crystal tokens."



"The equivalent of a decade's worth of our annual income before expenses." Said Count Evisenhardt, a hand stroking his goatee in thought.



Lucille nodded. "Obviously not all of the hundred million is in an easily transactional value, but that still leaves a quarter of a million in pure currency. A cash injection any higher than 10 million will be wasted on the Faction if it is used now."



The three Counts made small noises of acknowledgement, thinking deeply, while Artair frowned. Then he looked up, a serious expression on his face. "The contents of the Founder's vault are composed of the compiled profit of over a thousand years of the Faction's operations. Why do you believe you have the right to dictate how this money should be spent?"



Lucy looked at him silently for a moment, while the other Counts and even the high mage behind him let out low sighs. She leaned back, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. "How old are you, sir Alichanteu?"



He blinked at the unexpected question but answered truthfully. "Uh… I'm 26."



Lucille nodded. "So, 8 years older than me. You've been an Ascendant for 10 years. Now, I have something to say about that." She said, moving forward to look at the man with a serious expression.



"It is written, in the first Founder's rules, that the contents of the vault are the private property of the Faction Head. Regardless of the Counties' wishes. No one but the Faction Head, and Ashale'viaf's incarnation, may enter it." She shifted again and intertwined her fingers together, elbows resting on the table.



"I am not dictating where the money of the Commission should go. I am dictating where my money should go. And I'm doing this freely as a sign of goodwill. This is not a case of someone taking the Counties' hard earned money and wasting it. I even specified for the next five years, and never told you what I'm going to do with the rest of the contents of the vault."



They all watched as the young heir shrunk back a little in his seat, looking embarrassed. Lucy sighed and relaxed her posture. "I turned 18 a little more than two months ago. Is it because of my young age that you feel I should answer to you?" she said, pulling out the pocket watch and holding it up for him to see.



"N-No, that's not it." He said, shaking his head. She tilted her head.



"If so, then please remember something. You are not here to push your own agenda as a potential Count of Alichanteu." They all took note of how he flinched when she emphasised 'potential'. Lucy continued. "You are here to represent the intentions of the current Count and Alichanteu, making decisions that would benefit the whole County and improve its entire power and standing." She narrowed her eyes. "Not to try play at being a Count."



Then she leaned back with a smirk and shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, I haven't yet received my position as an Honorary Count by the Emperor, so I'm not one to talk."



They all looked at her closely when she said that, probably trying to work out what her meaning was. Count Evisenhardt waved a hand to get their attention and gestured to the forms before them all.



"Let's leave the boy alone for now and get back to the matter at hand. What exactly do you intend for us to do with this money? It is surely not for free." He said, looking at her curiously.



She nodded and gestured for them to open their forms. "What I want is your complete backing and support when implementing a restructuring of the Commission. This includes access to your employees or businesses, and accurately reporting to me the issues or progress of my plans in their implementation."



They started flicking through the forms, and she left them to read them in silence. When they all put them down, most of them were deep in thought. Count Ravimoux was watching her with an intense gaze, his constant smile still there. Count Evisenhardt spoke up without looking away from his documents.



"A complete overhaul of the structure of the Commission that makes sure positions held within it are isolated from the status one holds as a noble, so one can advance their career purely on contribution, qualifications and merit." He looked up at her. "You do realise this is taking away everything that holds us nobles together within the Faction?"



She closed her eyes as she reshuffled her forms. "I need to limit nepotism. Corruption is a normal event and can even be a tool in the right hands." She looked up at him with a serious expression. "What I cannot allow to continue is the rampant suppression of talent that occurs due to the innate status restrictions between higher nobles and lower nobles, and between nobility and commoners. You don't believe commoners could ever gain real power within the Empire, do you?"



Count Evisenhardt scoffed as Count Ravimoux chuckled and the Count of Chavaret shook his head. She smirked. "The strength-based system of the Empire, and of the Tower itself prevents them from rising on their own, and if they do, they get assimilated into the hierarchy set up by these main forces. They can never overcome the natural disadvantage in starting stats and resources to overtake any main noble clan. So, that's not your issue, is it?"



Count Evisenhardt shook his head and gestured to the document. "Of course not. No, my issue is that this restructuring of yours will ruin cohesion and loyalty within the Faction and introduce conflict. It has many advantages, I can easily see that, but it's too risky."



"This isn't to cause conflict between the Faction's nobility." She leaned forward to gaze at each of the four. "This is to protect them from it."



"Sorry?" frowned Count Evisenhardt. Count Chavaret crossed his arms and Count Ravimoux straightened up, watching her actions intently. She picked up her pocket watch and pointed to it.



"It is highly difficult to keep a Faction completely neutral when most of its members are part of the Empire, a Supreme Institution." she said to them. Instead of responding, they only raised eyebrows at her, so she continued.



"The Faction is only called 'neutral' because it's never expressed any outwards stance on how it interacts with certain races or realms, always saying it is willing to trade with any group. That doesn't mean it doesn't privately have any opinions that influence our decision." She placed the pocket watch back down. "All noble clans have their own agenda, which unfortunately means private interests get mixed up when it makes decisions to trade with certain groups, such as the necromancers, undead, demons, or the 'uncivilised' beast clans, even though they have immense power and resources."



She leaned back to look at them. "This restructuring will protect the noble families from being influenced by the wishes of stronger nobles, when it's not what they want. By making sure only the businesses owned by the nobility, and not the clans themselves, are under the authority of the Faction, they can keep their interests while allowing the Faction to remain uninfluenced by political bias. We need to change from just a loose alliance of merchant nobles," she said, waving the form, "to a true merchant union."



"But how will you deal with the loyalty of the lower nobility once this restructuring has occurred? Or the interests of the commoners encroaching on the interests of nobility?" asked Count Chavaret.



She smirked. "That's easy. After all, their oaths of loyalty to Evisenhardt, Alichanteu, Ravimoux and Chavaret are completely unrelated to their decisions to have their businesses join the Faction. It's an Empire oath and not a Faction oath after all."



Count Chavaret gave a hearty chuckle at that. Typically, it was normal for nobility to make an oath of allegiance to one of the Counties when they joined, to gain their protection and use some of their authority. Over time, this basically became mandatory, but by highlighting the fact that they used an oath from the Empire to express their allegiance, she can separate the Faction from the fact they must continue to serve their lieges.



She tapped on her chin. "As for the commoners… let them join a new force under my name."



They went silent as they processed this. Count Ravimoux leaned forward with a raised eyebrow. "Are you planning on forming a force to counteract the Counties? I'm not worried, but the vassal clans could be."



Lucy gave him a dismissive wave. "Pfft. Not at all." She put down her form. "No, this is because of the method by which I plan to expand the Faction. Have a look at the fifth page." She said, bringing her own version to the front of her pile. They looked at their own, reading it with raised eyebrows.



"Huh." Count Chavaret said, scratching his greying beard. "This is… certainly something new. A standard noble hierarchy definitely wouldn't work too well with this."



She smiled at him. "Once the basic structure is in place, then the nobility can start involving themselves once more, and the Faction will settle into a new status quo. You can use my power as Head for all this if you wish. In fact…" she said, leaning forward with a grin. "Why don't we pretend I'm a puppet leader."



They all looked up, blinking, and slightly stunned. Count Ravimoux held his chin. "A puppet leader…" He looked at her oddly. "You're an…. interesting type of person for suggesting this. And you're willing to just accept this?"



She shrugged. "The truth would come out eventually, but probably not until the five year period I set is over. Nobody is going to believe you're willing to accept listening to an 18-year-old girl. Just spread the word I'm a specially curated candidate you planted in the Inheritance Trials, and I managed to get the item. It's a common enough occurrence, and it will distract the outside forces until we've consolidated our power after the restructuring."



"So that's why you suggested I become your aide…" murmured Vincent. Unfortunately, due to the small size of the meeting room, everyone heard him. They all turned to him in surprise, and he awkwardly adjusted his glasses as he avoided eye-contact, embarrassed by the sudden attention.



"You suggested to my grandson to become your aide?" Count Evisenhardt asked, looking at her curiously. She nodded and he turned to his grandson with narrowed eyes. "I'll hear more about that later."



Vincent grimaced slightly and gave a nod, likely worried about the grilling he'll receive by his grandfather. Artair looked at the forms with a slight frown, before looking up.



"But these ideas… it's hard to believe an 18-year-old girl came up with them. Were you some sort of genius in your home world?"



She blinked. "Genius? Oh." She shook her head in realisation. "Of course not. I never came up with these ideas. These are all products of my home world." She got a few raised eyebrows when she said that.



"It's hard to believe your nobility let these type of policies be allowed if that's the case." Count Ravimoux stated.



She grinned. "When did I say we had nobility?"



They all straightened up, confused by her statement. Artair looked at her curiously. "Is it similar to the Coalition? Where your status is determined by your craftsmen ranking?"



Lucille considered it but shook her head. She gestured to the form on her table. "Not quite. It's not specific to craftsmen for us. Our whole world functions like this contribution system I've suggested here, from the governing bodies to privately owned businesses." She smiled. "Although, my world is similar when you compare us to their magitech. I have a few plans that make use of my knowledge of my world's engineering skills. Including advancing those airships the Supreme Institutions are so fixed on being the first to create."



She waited as they drew in startled gasps, most of the people standing behind the Counts going wide-eyed. The Counts had no reaction, however. They shared a glance, and the room entered a strange silence for a while.



"Hmm." Count Ravimoux mused. Then, his dark-green eyes narrowed, and his face went deadly serious as he gazed at her. "And why do you think we'll just listen to you now that the item has been removed from the Inheritance Trial? We could just kill you here, right now, and find someone more appropriate to bond the token."



"Indeed." Count Chavaret growled, looking at her with furrowed brows. "It's a threat to the Faction to have someone so young, and so weak as our leader." The man behind him reached for his greatsword.



"Now, now." Count Evisenhardt said. His eyes glinted as he looked at Lucille. "We don't need to be so violent. I'm sure she can just bestow us with authority and leave the Faction to us. We don't need to get rid of her. She's only Rank-0."



Artair just gazed at her with a complicated expression, not making any move, while Vincent looked worried as he watched their interaction. Lucille looked at them all with a tilted head, her face expressionless. Then she tapped on the pocket watch on the table.



"Show Sevastian Evisenhardt, Donovan Chavaret, Artair Alichanteu, and Regulus Ravimoux the Main Total Faction Authority page."



Above the watch, a semi-translucent white screen appeared. She poked it, and it enlarged itself so they could all see what was written on it. She smiled widely as they stared at her.



"Would you look at that! Mental Activation is enabled for the instant destruction of all County inheritances and businesses. I wonder who put that there." She said brightly, like she wasn't threatening to destroy the very foundation of the Counties.



There was a tense silence as nobody knew how they should react, the sound of Lucy putting the pocket watch back in her chest pocket being heard by all present. It was broken by Count Ravimoux letting out a wry chuckle and tilting back in his chair. "You said it earlier Artair." He said. "She doesn't seem like any old 18-year-old in the slightest. Old men, your ploy failed."



Count Chavaret scowled at the man while Count Evisenhardt just clicked his tongue and shook his head, frustrated. After glaring at the Ravimoux Count, he turned to her and smiled. "I suppose we have no choice. The Evisenhardts are willing to proceed with these plans." He said, holding up a hand.



"The Ravimoux are willing as well." announced Count Ravimoux, holding up a hand too.



"A-As are the Alichanteu, on behalf of the Count." Said Artair, after a poke in the back by the High-mage behind him.



There was only the Count of Chavaret left watching Lucy. "Three of the Counties have already given you their vote, so my vote is rendered useless either way. However, what I want to know is this. As the leader of an immensely large Faction in the Mystical Realm, you will be up against the political schemes of ancient individuals thousands of years old in age, while only being 18. Do you have the confidence to stand up against them, and not fail under the pressure?"



They all waited for her answer, varying levels of interest present in their body language. Lucille looked at them all with narrowed eyes, before turning to Count Chavaret with a mischievous expression.



"I believe I've heard that you're around 500 years old, Count Chavaret. You must have had some experience with spiritual energy."



He frowned but nodded. Lucy grinned and leaned an elbow on the table. "I can understand your fears. I'm young, and youth brings weakness. But there's a much simpler answer to this than you'd expect."



Her face became expressionless. "You see, I'm not actually 18."



There was a moment when they all looked perplexed, staring at her confusedly, before they felt it. Lucille unfurled her spiritual energy, spreading her soul power throughout the small room they found themselves in. The air rippled as something similar to a shockwave moved through it, and there were strangulated gasps as Count Evisenhardt put a hand on his chest, trying to calm his pulsing heart. Artair had his hands around his neck, feeling breathless, and Count Ravimoux scrambled to get out of his chair.



Lucy raised an eyebrow when she saw the man behind Count Chavaret try to draw his greatsword, and the pressure intensified, pushing down on the room's occupants. The wild-haired man dropped to a knee, struggling against the weight, and the high mage behind Artair tried to use his staff to keep standing. Vincent had gone pale and was already on the ground, his brother barely kneeling too.



Only Count Chavaret remained still in his seat, but Lucy could see he had gritted his teeth with clenched fists, his vessels bulging as he strained against the pressure. She could see his brown irises had gained a red rim around them, so he was likely trying to resist the energy by enveloping himself in his battle intent, a form of killing intent. Unluckily for him, Lucy didn't use killing intent in her spiritual energy, so it was ineffective. He growled as he tried to stand up to resist it better. Not wanting anyone to collapse, she snapped her fingers and before they could react the spiritual energy withdrew inwards, her overbearing presence gone.



Everyone just stared blankly at her for a moment. She smirked and leaned back in her chair, doing nothing else. There were a few sighs of relief as the invisible dizzying force was gone, and Artair weakly climbed back into his chair that he had fallen out of.



"What… was that?!" He suddenly exclaimed, his skin pale and clammy.



Count Chavaret grunted as he sat back down in his chair. "Soul pressure." He spat.



Count Evisenhardt fumbled with a white handkerchief he had drawn out of a pocket, trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose. "Didn't have it in you to give an old man a little mercy?" he muttered, grimacing at his dishevelled state.



"You're that weak at Rank-3? Ha, I'm sure your grandsons are so proud of you!" mocked Count Ravimoux, although he wasn't looking to well himself. The tattoo around his arm kept writhing and twisting, and his skin had gone a tad green.



Vincent, his brother, the High-mage, and the wild-haired man behind Count Chavaret all looked worse for wear. Vincent looked at Lucille with a complicated expression, which she understood. Who wouldn't have mixed feelings if the young girl they thought they knew somewhat went and did this to several Rank-3 and 4s?



They all flinched as Lucy spoke up. "Do you need an explanation from me?"



The greatsword wielder behind the Count of Chavaret stared at her warily, but internally, she rolled her eyes. If she wanted them dead, they wouldn't have survived her soul pressure. Count Chavaret gazed at her under bushy eyebrows for a bit, but eventually nodded. "I know what you meant to show us, but I'm not sure the others understood."



"Yes… I'm rather lost." Count Evisenhardt added dryly, watching them interact while appearing unamused.



She nodded as she pulled out her pocket watch, spinning it around by its chain. "Soul pressure is obviously something gained when you have a strong soul. Having more spiritual energy increases the intensity of it. Cultivators are famous for using it as an area-of-effect ability on weaker cultivators. The average User definitely does not have a soul pressure with the strength of mine." She said, smiling. "But some races, such as the celestial dragons, are born with incredibly vast souls, so it's not a physical impossibility that a Rank-0 User could have such strong soul pressure."



She kept silent that she didn't even use a tenth of her soul pressure on them, or the fact that she had to limit herself to using 20% of her energy at any one time so her body didn't collapse under the weight of the feedback. Seeing them understand, she leaned forward and gave them a wide smile. "But one other lesser known feature of soul pressure is this: it contains small pieces of the numerical history of the user."



She leaned back and shrugged. "This only increases according to the flow of years in the main realms. No pocket dimensions under an increased time ratio can increase the 'depth' of my presence outside what the equivalent would be in the main realms. So, while it's harder for those less familiar with spiritual energy to understand the tiny pockets of information revealed through my energy, Count Chavaret here," She said, gesturing to the bulky man, "Has probably battled a few cultivators in his time, and knows what I tried to impress upon you with my presence."



He gazed at her with an unreadable expression, before answering.

"You're definitely not 18."
 
Chapter 14 (2 of 2) Endgame Bosses - Corporate Edition.
He gazed at her with an unreadable expression. "You're definitely not 18."



She smirked and rested her chin on a hand. "Technically my body is, but the age of my soul, the length of time I consider myself 'alive' for?"



She grinned widely. "Much older."



Count Chavaret scratched his chin, staring down at the ground in thought. "Older than a hundred, but less than half a thousand… I'd place you at two centuries…. wait." He looked up. "Two centuries and a half."



"249 years to be exact." She nodded. "I believe that is old enough to be considered an equal?" she said to them, smirking.



Count Ravimoux frowned at the table. "And I'm 29. Does that make me the youngest again?" Then he looked up and cocked an eyebrow at her. "But there's a problem. My Inspection skill says you're only 18. And I am quite confident in my information skills."



She hummed, then leaned back in her chair, legs crossed. "Trade secret?" she responded.



He narrowed his eyes but said nothing else. Reincarnation and possession were not unknown concepts for the residents of the Tower realms, but the System only allowed it in very rare circumstances. If the System had allowed it for her, then she wasn't about to go telling anyone why. But she hadn't reincarnated or through possession, and unless she showed them her Title, they wouldn't believe her.



She noticed Vincent was looking at her with a troubled expression. She gave him a smile, but he only blinked, still lost in thought, so she shrugged and looked around. Artair looked at her and then shivered.



"Her being much older than she looks matches up with what I felt when that pressure was felt. I got this strange sensation of… omniscience emanating from you and had the feeling like I was sitting before some incomprehensible creature." He said, looking pale.



Lucille nodded. "When you feel the thousands of sensations I've received over the years, it's hard for someone with little spiritual energy to comprehend the situation. It's why the 'immortals' go to great lengths to ensure their presence doesn't affect the weaker cultivators. Some get soul damage just from the sensation."



She turned to Count Chavaret with narrowed eyes. "So, do you feel confident enough to have me as your leader?"



He scarred man watched her silently for a moment, before crossing his arms and slowly nodding. "You're not young, or weak. I can't complain."



She smiled and leaned back. "Then I guess that's settled then. I have a few plans for each of the individual Counties I'd like to show you to, so there's still plenty more to discuss."



"But before that…" Spoke up Count Evisenhardt. "I'd prefer if we could go over this… 'umbrella company' concept and these subsidiary businesses."



"Ah, and I'd like to know more about this public transport system you've suggested." Said Artair.



Count Ravimoux and Count Chavaret both nodded in agreement. Lucille narrowed her eyes and grinned like a cat that had caught its prey.



"Well, let's discuss these topics further then."




A while later, Sevastian and Vincent Evisenhardt walked down one of the long corridors of the Headquarters, their footsteps being the only sound heard in the white-walled area. Count Sevastian Evisenhardt slowed his steps, and his grandson sped up to walk beside him. The goatee wearing man turned to Vincent and narrowed his eyes.



"I'm unimpressed. Very unimpressed, Vincent. You have not dealt with this well."



Vincent remained silent as his grandfather sighed and shook his head. "Have a guess at why I believe you have not done well."



Vincent shifted his glasses and stared at the carpeted ground, frowning. "Because I didn't tell you about the offer of becoming her aide?"



The Evisenhardt Count scoffed and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I don't care about that. I assume you didn't inform me so you wouldn't lose what good rapport you had built with her. I would've done the same in your situation. No, it's because of another reason."



He turned to gaze at Vincent with stern eyes. "Have you already rejected her offer?"



Vincent shook his head. "I only asked to wait until after the meeting to answer her."



The older man gave a firm nod of his head. "Good, at least you have that much sense in you. Before the meeting, did you have plans of accepting?"



Vincent hesitated but nodded under his grandfather's narrowed gaze. The shorter man then made eye contact with Vincent and put a hand on his shoulder. "What about now?"



Vincent went silent. The man shook his head and raised his cane, gesturing to the corridor behind them with the white stick. "You know, from the moment that girl stepped through the doors, I did not see one hint of her trying to hide who she was. She had every intention of showing us the irrefutable proof of her age from the very start."



Sevastian tapped on Vincent's chest with the cane. "You were the one to say she was clever, boy, you know her personality best. Tell me, has she ever tried to hide her real self from you?"



Vincent considered all of his time spent with her, and realised that no, Lucy had not actually ever tried to pretend she was a normal 18-year-old girl. She hadn't even tried to hide her more special abilities. Scytale might also be more unique than he first thought too. He shook his head for his grandfather, who nodded and continued marching down the hallway with his cane.



"I've seen her type before, boy. She's dangerous, very dangerous, but I know what she is."



"Her… type?" Vincent repeated, frowning as he followed the man.



Sevastian nodded. "It's a surprise to see it occurring in an 18-year-old, even if she has a soul older than two centuries." He looked at his grandson with a serious expression. "Many individuals, often those isolated from society at one time or another, once they reach a particular age, develop… interesting personalities. Not by accident, but rather intentionally. A common example would be the Grand wizards and Archmages of All-Aeon Athenaeum, with their haughty and pretentious attitudes. They shrug off all values that society would force upon them and act without restraint, as long as their 'persona', if you will, allows it, uncaring of the attitudes of the people around them."



He sighed and shook his head. "I had almost thought I was seeing things when I noticed it occurring with her, but I suppose the difference between her body and soul in age explains it." He frowned and shook his head again. "Don't try to get them to drop their persona though. Most of the time, this 'front' they put up is a coping mechanism of sorts. It is how they interact with society in an acceptable way after years of isolation. They don't necessarily have nice personalities underneath. Of course, those members of All-Aeon Athenaeum aren't always pretending." He said, chuckling to himself.



Sevastian suddenly whirled around and tapped Vincent on the arm with his cane. "What I am unimpressed about," he continued, frowning at the man wearing half-moon glasses, "Is how you didn't accept that girl's offer the instant she made it!" he rebuked, glaring at him with piercing grey eyes.



Vincent scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "It would be unbecoming of an Evisenhardt to be so eager to accept an offer." He replied, trying to reduce his anger.



His grandfather's glare intensified as he lightly whacked Vincent over the head with his cane. "Don't make excuses to me young man, I've had over seven hundred years of experience in dealing with your father's generation." He waved his cane higher in a threat of more violence.



"But… wouldn't me taking up her offer trouble the County?" The younger man said in response, covering his head to avoid being hit by the cane.



His grandfather huffed and marched on ahead. "When do you turn 30, boy?"



"Uh… three years?" Vincent responded hesitantly. The Evisenhardt Count nodded and waved a hand to gesture at him.



"When an Evisenhardt noble turns 30 they traditionally take up a proper position of power within either the County or the County's main businesses. However, you are one of 7 brothers, and have 6 competent sisters. You are also the youngest child, with the least succession rights." Sevastian raised an eyebrow at him. "What position still exists for you by now?"



"It's hardly my fault my father had three wives." Vincent responded sarcastically.



His grandfather was unamused. "Then would you rather not have been born?"



Vincent wisely remained silent, so the older man gave him a mildly exasperated sigh and turned to face him. "Vincentimo Sorviere Evisenhardt." He stated. "You are young. Inexperienced. And unneeded." His grandfather told him harshly, interjecting each word with another poke of his cane. Vincent blinked, nonplussed. His grandfather whirled back around and pointed to the end of the hallway.



"But for some reason, that girl saw something in you. This girl has offered you a way to bypass all your siblings and make it straight to the top. Don't ruin this chance. I have noticed the positive light you have described her in before this, meaning you're clearly unopposed to working with her. I had almost thought you were interested in her." He chuckled.



Vincent gave him an absolutely horrified look, making his grandfather glare at him again. "I know now that that was obviously not the case. You were interested in the personage, or maybe more accurately, the mind behind those plans of hers."



Vincent stared at him in confusion, making Sevastian shake his head wryly. "Ever since you were a child I've noticed all the wonderful ideas you've come up with for the County and the Faction." He gave a regretful sigh. "Unfortunately, the way of the County and its nobility has been fixed over the years, with very little room to make the changes you so desired." He looked at his grandson. "Again, boy, don't ruin this chance of yours."



They walked in silence as Vincent digested their conversation. It was a lot for him to take in. But he couldn't help look at his grandfather weirdly. "How could you even believe I would be interested a girl 9 years my younger?"



"Bah." The Count of Evisenhardt gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Age gaps are normal among Ascendants. It's not so uncommon. Why, I'm 50 years older than your grandmother!"



"You married her when she was already 172." Vincent responded flatly. "It's not the same."



The older man turned to his grandson with narrowed eyes. "It seems you've some attitude in you. I don't know if I want that returning to my County. As a matter of fact…" Sevastian said, looking intensely at Vincent, "You won't be returning at all."



Vincent was stunned. "…what?"



The older man grabbed his grandson by the shoulders and whirled him around. Then, he lifted his cane and pointed it in the direction of Lucy's room. "If you won't take matters into your own hand, then I will." He said. He jabbed his grandson in the back with the white cane. "You go up there, you say you'll accept that offer, and you stay here."



"W-Wait, wait, wait." Exclaimed Vincent, confused by the developing events. "What are you-"



"Just go!" his grandfather interrupted, pushing the man along with the cane. "I'll not have you standing here like some pushover, trying to stall! Get up there and accept her offer!"



Vincent hesitantly took a step forward, and then started walking quicker when he noticed Sevastian waving around his cane threateningly behind him.



"I'll kick you out of the County if you try to come back without having accepted that offer!" he shouted.



Still stunned, Vincent started making his way down the familiar path to the elevator that would take him to Lucy's room. As he got closer, his stunned state faded, and he slowed down, but kept moving. He thought deeper about his situation.



His grandfather had always been a… headstrong man, courtesy of his many years negotiating with nobles at the Bank, but never this outspoken. He supposed the plans Lucy described must have given him some motivation and gotten him excited somehow.



He hesitated as he considered Lucy's plans. Even if they weren't original ideas, as she had said, it was still mightily impressive that she had come up with a way to adapt them to the Commission. It would've needed heavy experience in organisational management. It made him wonder what she did before all this.



Although… he shuddered slightly as he remembered the sensation of the soul pressure. It was a dizzying, throbbing sensation that felt like it was threatening to tear apart the very fibres of his mind, vibrating and resonating in time with the hundreds of vague thoughts and impressions pulling at his consciousness as the vast presence had descended on the room. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to know more.



That brought him to a topic he didn't really want to consider. Namely, how he was going to interact with Lucy after all this. Before the meeting, he had been willing to become her aide, because she was a genuinely interesting person, and her plans had intrigued him. Now she didn't feel approachable, or even human to him anymore. It's not like she had tried to hide her true thoughts or opinions from him, and apart from a few odd times, she had always given him an explanation for her actions. But then there was that stray comment about how she had 'played her part' which gave him mixed feelings.



Maybe he needed to approach this from a different angle. He frowned as he turned a corner and considered the implications behind a 250-year-old soul being in a teenager's body. He had heard a few stories from before the time of the Tower, when the Mystical Realm was still unassimilated, about Archmages or 12th circle wizards developing reincarnation spells that let them be reborn in a new body a few thousand years later, and apparently the concept was heavily prevalent in the Heavenly Realm, with their 6 paths of Samsara. Strong demons could also use their astral body to possess others, and a few rare soul magics could do so too. But after assimilation, reincarnation and possession were strictly controlled by the System, and handed out as a very rare reward, apart from temporary possession abilities. As for why Lucy had earned it… he had no clue.



With her strong and large soul, it would make sense if she was a soul cultivator, but cultivators had a very distinct nature and presence. Lucille felt more like a high-ranked mage or noble to him. She even used several mannerisms similar to the nobility of the Empire, and she cast that arcane bolt spell. Cultivators couldn't use mana. They were born with their 'dantian' that allowed them to condense spiritual energy into this 'spiritual essence' thing that resided within their bodies, allowing them to strengthen their bodies with the normally rather ineffectual energy.



And you could only have a dantian if you had a 'Spiritual Root', which required you to be born in a realm with no mana. That meant the Heavenly Realm. You couldn't have a spiritual root even if you were born in the Demon Realm, which had very sparse mana, because even the slightest contact with it while within the womb would change it to become normal mana veins. Soul cultivators were the rarest, so maybe they could do things normal cultivators couldn't… but he put Lucy being a cultivator at rather unlikely.



He scratched his neck, a bit confused. That meant she was a mage or wizard of some kind, considering that spell of hers, but he didn't actually remember asking what kind of mage she was. There were several Orders for mages and Towers for wizards corresponding to different elements in the All-Aeon Athenaeum, but she hadn't used any elemental magic in front of him as of yet. He supposed he'll have to ask her later. As for more clues that could point to her identity… there was only that serpent bond of hers, who was practically missing in action with how long he hadn't seen the beast, and the strange way she had treated him when they first met. There was also that situation with the Legendary accessory craftsman…



He paused when he remembered a strange piece of conversation he had had with her after meeting the crafter. It had been a strange excuse, but if there was the slightest bit of truth to it, it would explain a few things. Such as her attitude towards him and the crafter, and her apparent lack of desire to become a Rank-1 first, coming straight to the Commission as soon as she was able. But…



He shook his head forcefully. That was utterly ridiculous. There was no way she would've been so willing to admit she was a time traveller. He chuckled wryly to himself as he entered the elevator. There were probably a mountain of alternative answers he could choose from, and he was only getting fixated on one of the least likely or logical solutions available. He shook his head again to get rid of the idea, stepping out of the elevator and into one of the cream floral-patterned corridors of the Founder's floor. He guessed he wouldn't be able to find out anymore until he had worked alongside her for a while. If her attitude hadn't changed towards him, then it might be easier than he expected.



But as he opened the oak door of her living room, a thought resided in the back of his head that maybe, just maybe, Lucille knew more about what will occur in the future than she was letting on.




Lucille looked up from her tea when she saw the door of her room open to reveal Vincent standing there in his white suit, looking a bit weary. He shut the door behind him with a click as she gestured to the brass jug on the coffee table.



"Would you like some?"



He seemed to watch her expression for a moment, like he was looking for something. She tilted her head at his reaction, but then he just sighed and gave a light chuckle to himself, sitting down on the couch opposite her. She shrugged and took another sip of her drink as he picked up the jug.



"This isn't some of that disgustingly bitter drink you seem to be able to enjoy daily is it?" he said, eyeing the jug dubiously.



She shook her head and winced at the pain it induced. "I decided not to exacerbate my headache by drinking something like that today."



He raised an eyebrow at her. "Headache?"



She frowned as she rubbed her temples. "There is a reason why I haven't been using my spiritual energy constantly." She responded dryly, taking another sip of her tea. "It's not exactly fun to be in a body that can be overwhelmed by strain if you so much as think too hard."



"I'd like to know what kind of thinking you're doing if it could give you a headache just like that." He said, putting down his cup. He shook his head and leaned forward to look at her intently. "I'm here because I would like to accept your offer of being an aide."



Lucy glanced at him and noticed a few details. The normally immaculate suit he wore was slightly crumbled, Vincent's fluffy hair seemed to be strangely flat on top, and his glasses were slightly askew. She peered at him over the top of her drink as she took another sip.



"Normally, I'd be fine to start working out the finer details once you've said that, allowing you to begin working soon. But…" she said, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you sure this was a willing acceptance of your own design?"



Vincent blinked, his mouth slightly open in surprise. "How did y- wait." He said, staring at her suspiciously. "That's not just a guess, is it. That headache's not normal."



Lucy avoided eye-contact and looked to the side. "The view is rather pleasant today, don't you think?"



"The window is behind you." Vincent reminded her.



They had a brief staring contest in the silent room before Lucy sighed and placed her empty cup on the table. "Are you aware of what spiritual sense is?"



"Vaguely?" he said, a bit puzzled.



Lucille pointed to her head. "If I was a cultivator, then I could direct my spiritual sense more locally to view specific areas. Because I'm not, having sacrificed that function and 'spiritual sense' for greater detail, when I use what is my spiritual perception field, it expands in a spherical form, and I get feedback on everything within that radius." She winced as she rubbed her head again. "If I had the physique of a Rank-3, then I could support it for longer periods."



"So, you were spying on the conversation I had with my grandfather." He responded flatly.



Lucy blinked. "No?"



Vincent leaned back to look at her with suspicion. "Aren't you saying you had a headache because you expanded it too much to hear me and my grandfather?"



She shook her head and looked at him again. "No. I expanded it too much while listening to you and your grandfather, the other Counts, the heir, and his escort. All the cleaning staff. The maids. The clerks. Viewing every breeze, every mote of dust, every object. Every speck of matter. Every particle of mana. Any spiritual energy residue. Everything within the Headquarters." She frowned at the table. "Actually, I think the magic arrays in the basement need replacing. They've probably gone over their 10-year limit, because the mana efficiency of those ventilators is atrocious."



Vincent stared blankly at Lucy. Then he held up a hand to pause her, the other messaging his nose bridge. "W-Wait just one moment." He put his hands together and stared at Lucy again, leaning forward. "You're saying… you can even see detail up to… what, the number of people in Headquarters right now?"



"9,334." She abruptly announced. She rubbed her temples. "It was originally around 7,300 an hour ago, but the news about the visiting Counts seem to have been spread."



Vincent leaned back, flabbergasted. Then his eyes widened in realisation. "So, that's how you found out I never reported those plans to my grandfather." He narrowed his eyes at her. "How long have you been spying on me?"



She cocked an eyebrow and leaned back. "After how you saw me react to using it for a short period of time today? Seriously?"



He opened his mouth but closed it afterwards when he realised that there's no way she could've used it for a whole week just to catch him. Lucy pointed to her head again. "I'm just proficient at personality analysis."



The man wearing half-moon glasses rolled his eyes. "Riiiight."



She shrugged. "Believe what you will. As for another matter…" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Any update on the Vadel situation?"



Vincent's expression went serious as he nodded. "There has been, actually." He intertwined his fingers as he leaned forward. "The two nobles have returned safely to their estate, but there's a curious event that occurred during their trip: the convoy had been destroyed by a freak avalanche and only five people survived, including the two Vadels."



She frowned, crossing her arms. "An accident on a secret mission is far too suspicious."



Vincent nodded. "I agree. It is very unlikely. Especially considering it was called the 'Permafrost Glacial Abode' region."



She nodded. "The naming conventions of the System are very specific. If it has 'Permafrost' in the name, it will mean the glaciers and ice there are not prone to shifting, unless dislodged by a King-ranked monster or equivalent strength beast of some kind." She frowned again. "But a monster or beast of that strength would've had its aura felt if they were close enough to be affected by an avalanche from a frontier region. The mountains wouldn't have grown too high yet, meaning they would've been close enough to sense it."



Vincent sighed and leaned back. "That is the conclusion my clan and Ravimoux have come to." Seeing Lucille look up in response to 'Ravimoux', he explained himself. "I made the decision of involving the forces of Ravimoux to gain more accurate information."



Lucy tapped on her chin. "That's a good move. As much as the situation involving that intruder was dealt with in a way that reduces debt between us, the Count would want to show his goodwill to me so I could have no complaints about the intruder. Letting them help is also a way to access their information of Alichanteu, which I'd say they have more on than the other Counties."



Vincent nodded and looked at the table. "Then should we assume there was an instigator behind this 'avalanche'?"



"That seems the best plan for the moment. Why did those five survive?" she said, reaching for the jug.



He frowned slightly as he reviewed his memories of the information. "I think it was attributed to a mix of skill and chance. The heir of the Vadels and the manager for Alichanteu, Efratel, had hired several individuals of much higher talent than were contracted by the convoy company. His younger cousin, Marellen, is known as a minor talent within the Alichanteu, but the other three were also interesting. He had contracted a pair of siblings, the female being a member of the Black Hand Mercenary Guild, and the male being a spear wielder known for causing trouble."



Lucy paused her pouring of her tea to look up. "Huh. Were they called Larena and Garthe?"



Vincent reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a slip of paper, reading it carefully. He looked up. "Uh… yes, actually. How did you know that?" he asked curiously.



She went back to pouring. "I actually met them around the same time as I met the Vadels in that frontier region. I suppose my intervention caused them to decide to work together." She said, picking up her refilled teacup and leaning back on the couch.



"I see. The last member was also rather unique: a snow-elf mage who has been working as a adventurer of the Adventurer's Guild in the Beast Realm after she ran from the unfortunate rumours about her heritage that caused conflict within her family. She has the rare dual affinity of ice and fire and I believe her current name is Roa Winteri-"



Lucy spluttered as she spat out her mouthful of tea, coughing. She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket as she coughed several times, waving a hand to the dubious Vincent to assure him she was alright. "Sorry." She said, putting back down the teacup. "I think I might've misheard you. Could you repeat that last bit for me?"



He eyed her sceptically but acquiesced, shifting his glasses as he looked back down at the paper. "Her name is Roa Winteridge. Although, it seems she's been going by a nickname of sorts, because I have been informed that her true name is actually-"



"Trisroa Vel-Winteridge." Lucille interjected, frowning deeply.



Vincent stared at her for a moment, eyeing her with suspicion. "It seems you're familiar with her."



Lucy kept frowning, staring at the table in thought. "Not really. I've never met her if that's what you're asking."



"Yet your reaction points to more than a simple connection." He replied dryly.



Lucille gazed at him with narrowed eyes, wondering how much to tell him. She sighed and looked at the roof. "There is a certain group of… people I very much wish not to get involved with. She is someone with such connections to that group of people, whether she knows of it or not. I just didn't expect her name to be coming up here."



Vincent still looked suspicious. "Did you offend some powerful force or Faction of some kind?"



She shook her head. "No. Neither they nor the… group she's connected to know of me in the slightest. My existence doesn't endanger the Faction at all, if that's what you're worried about."



"And if I ask any further, you'll just respond with time travel?" Vincent asked, an eyebrow raised.



Lucy shook her head again. "Not even that." Vincent looked taken aback by her answer, but she didn't stop to address it. "We have little more than a partial relation to one other person at one point in time." She looked down at the table, frowning again. Then she shook her head and gestured to him. "She's a very talented magic-user, so it would be best to keep an eye on her."



That was the biggest understatement of the millennium. After all, who would dare reduce the grand title of the Sovereign Sorceress of Frostfire to a mere magic-user?



"Keep tabs on the rest of the group to the best of your ability as well. Knowing of a manager who's in contact with the Raven's Wing Shadow Blade of the Black Hand can't be a bad thing for the Commission."



Vincent nodded. After finishing his tea, he got up and gave a light bow. "I'll come back another day to discuss the finer terms of my employment, and potentially the internal debut we need to arrange for you, but for now, I'll return to my residence."



He held out a hand for her. "I look forward to working with you, Lucille Goldcroft." He said with a smile. She stood up and shook it, before he left and shut the door behind him. In the now silent room, Lucy sat back down expressionlessly, crossing her arms.



Hearing the name of the second strongest member of the Hero's party was definitely unexpected, but it showed that her actions would cause more and more butterfly effects that would culminate to create unfamiliar events as time went on. That was why she decided to put so much effort into aiding a Faction that was fated to collapse in a few years. She needed more power than just what a few skills and stats could do.



She looked at the roof and closed her eyes. But she didn't mind the butterfly effect. It would only benefit her more in the end. Information was only useful when it was valid, and the Commission would give her the advantage when it came to that.




Then, I might see if I can steal this party member of yours, Griffin. Don't hate me too much, 'Hero of Light'.



Lucille's mouth curled up into a wicked grin. The Commission was only a side project, after all.
 
Chapter 15 (1 of 2) Little noodle with big ambitions.
The mighty predator sneaked through the soundless darkness. He was in his natural habitat, the trusty undergrowth masking his tracks, and the artificial night sky aiding his agile form in melding into the illusory drapes of gloomy shadow, hiding him from view. His elegant scales barely made a sound as he smoothly glided over fallen leaves and branches, bending his serpentine body around the plants, and avoiding patches of light. He turned a corner and before him was… a wall.



He narrowed his now-disguised golden eyes at the barrier. It was a two-leg construct, this one human in origin. He lifted his shimmering head slightly to view the area above. Only an artificial crystal of some kind could be seen betwixt one domain of powerful flora and the next, twinkling with unnatural light. Another construct of humanoid creation. They dare to limit his glorious kingdom's borders with their mere devices of unnatural design?



The mighty predator scoffed and returned his attention back to navigating the treacherous land he found himself within. Destroying the constructions of lowly manlings can occur another day, for today, he had a goal. A mighty journey he had set himself upon, a quest that would ensure he was rewarded with endless riches and honour if he dared but to cross paths with this place of fabled origin. When he turned a corner, slithering around the base of the beautiful waterfall he laid eyes upon once before, he almost let out a gasp when he found it: his goal. But he didn't truly gasp! No mighty predator, no wondrous king, no emperor, no sovereign should ever, ever lose composure enough to gasp.



For there before him was his objective: an arcane gate of past aeons, a mesmerising portal that would send him to the next world. The one with the name of The Exit. He hissed as he surveyed the area. The gateway of artificial crystal sat there seemingly unguarded, only a slowly rotating decagonal construct of silver magic on its front, but the mighty predator was not fooled. Within his domain of flora lay another entity, one who would not hesitate to take the chance to bar him from exploring grander kingdoms. It was his ancient enemy, his rival for his domain, and his archnemesis: the Great Demon. He narrowed his eyes as he peered through the undergrowth, watching for any signs of movement. He would not be barred today.



He slithered along the edge of the undergrowth, taking care not to touch the polished stone pathways the humanoid beings loved so much, lest his mesmerising scales attract unwanted attention with their sound. The mythical Exit held no bush nor shrub for him to use to sneak closer, so when he made his move, he would need to be quick. Overhead, the decagonal magical constructs let out a faint mist in a false caricature of heaven-sent waters. But he was not displeased, for the rain-like mist would aid in disguising his form when he would dash towards the arcane gate. Yet that was only the first hurdle he would have to pass to enter his new domain.



Even if his glorious form managed to avoid the Great Demon's sight to reach the gateway, the innocuous magical construct on its front presented a different challenge. That of authority. How his archnemesis had gotten his hands on such grand power of malicious origins he could only wonder, but that was irrelevant. While he may not have the capability to unseal the arcane construct as of yet, he had a plan. For after agonisingly tedious years of scouting out the enemy, he had discovered a weakness in the form of an inconspicuous floating green orb.


He knew the two-legs referred to it as a golem, a metallic device with artificial behaviours and motives. The device had six metallic limbs, with an assortment of sharp tools fashioned in the way of the humanoid tools of its creators at its ends, used for the caretaking of his domain. Within the centre of a metallic frame held an emerald green crystal orb, slowly glimmering with what he know of as a spirit of nature within. He had no conflict with the keeper of his domain, no, it was not this keeper itself that was the gate's weakness.



He listened silently and with his serpentine eyes he saw the hovering construct make its way towards the arcane door. It paused, using its many limbs to shuffle, arrange and clip the flora surrounding it, ensuring his domain remained in perfect form. He got into position, his powerful frame wound tight as he prepared to make his move. For this levitating construct was not only a guardian of his domain, but had other domains to guard.



Then he froze as the scent of roses wafted past him. He whirled around, looking for the origin of this scent. It couldn't be that the Great Demon had found him alread-



Oh. His eyes rested upon the blossoming red flower opposite him on the other side of the polished stone walkway. A magical rose, its potent mana increasing its scent above what its mundane variant could have. He wryly shook his head as he let out a sigh. The Great Demon had obviously not found him yet, that would be absurd! He was the mighty predator, a grand thief of the dark, and a silent assassin. Perhaps the immense significance of this task was getting to him. He would be sure to take a break once he had settled into his new domain, surrounded by the most luxurious of natural treasures and nature's bounty, in a glorious new home made of-




The golem was moving again. He narrowed his eyes once more, focusing on his task to the utmost. For the Great Demon was surely going to be alerted when he infringes upon its authority as he moves to the next realm and would make countermeasures in the case of his failure. He only had one chance, and one chance only.



As the crystalline gate creaked open and the golem moved to enter through it, he unwound his taught body like a powerful spring and dashed across the smooth surface of the ground. His goal was in sight, and he had no room for failure. For he was the mighty grand Truth-Seizing World-Ender, the dark devourer of a thousand starships, the one and only Scytale, and he would-



"What are you doing?"



Scytale let out an unmighty yelp as he whirled around to see Ashale'viaf staring at him with a rather bemused expression. He hissed and bared his fangs.



"The Great Demon! You shall not foil my plans! Prepare yourself!"



The silvery snake dropped his illusory disguise and lunged at the perplexed white and pink-haired spirit, opening his jaws to take a large bite out of the man… rather ineffectually, as he went straight through the spirit's immaterial, semi-translucent body and landed on the other side. He spun around and bared his fangs at Ashale'viaf once more.



Ashale'viaf was very confused. "Demon? You do realise-"



"Silence, foul demon! I'll not have you confound me with your twisted lies!" he yelled, lunging again at the white-robed spirit with his wings outspread.



The spirit caught the snake around the middle with strangely smooth ease, Scytale letting out a strangulated "Gah!" in the process, and raised the snake up to look at him.



"-that I am the exact literal opposite of a demon?" he finished with exasperation.



Scytale hissed. "All meaning is subjective, and any term is fine so long as I get myn mengmage acrommlngnm." He said, with a mouthful of the spirit's wrist in his jaws. Physical obstruction didn't actually impact a magical beast's speech, their thought transmission being a form of telepathy. Scytale didn't care about that though, being melodramatic to the end.




Ashale'viaf sighed as he undid the materialisation of his wrist, leaving Scytale to snap his jaws uselessly against the empty air. The spirit narrowed his pink eyes at the snake.



"Now, what were you actually trying to do, heading towards that specific access point?"



"I was looking for an exit." The snake said, blinking innocently. "You said there was one this way."



"Strange." The spirit responded dryly, an eyebrow twitching. "For some reason, I distinctly remember saying that the three exits were in the other three directions, and that this one was. Not. Open. I wonder why there seems to be an inconsistency between our memories."



"I wonder why too." Scytale responded, tilting his head within the spirit's grasp. "Maybe you got it wrong?"




Ashale'viaf's expression darkened. "Yet, how come I can remember seeing you make a beeline straight for this exit, as soon as you entered this section of the gardens?"


The amphiptere gave a low hiss. "I think you hallucinated. You should get tested for schizophrenia, I heard it happens to people in their old age."




They stared at each other in silence for one intense moment. Then Ashale'viaf broke.




"I'm a plant spirit, for heaven's sake! Plant life is my domain! Of course I could sense you skulking around here like some thieving criminal! AND I CAN'T EVEN GET SCHIZOPHRENIA!"





"Oh really? That's nice." Scytale responded distractedly, flapping his wings as he tried and failed to wriggle out of the spirit's grasp.


The pink-eyed spirit narrowed his eyes at the winged snake. "You."



Scytale looked back up at the spirit. "Hm? Me?"



"Yes you." Ashale'viaf responded, his face going red with fury. Then he dropped to the ground, squatted, and rested his head in his arms. "This is a trial for me, isn't it?"



"Uh…" Scytale said, now placed down on the ground.



"The vengeful ghost of the Founder has decided to get rid of me because I outlived him. This is all a tribulation set by the heavens to test my worthiness. It's a punishment for me."



"I don't think-"



"Was it the insults towards your personality tests?!" Ashale'viaf shouted, now looking up at the glass roof. "Is it because I spent too long finding a successor? I thought I picked well with how perfectly they completed the first trial, but it was a farce! Have you come to mock me by placing this unholy menace within my sanctuaries?!" he said, gesturing to Scytale.



"Hey!"



Then Scytale flinched back as the spirit stood up and gestured to the roof with outstretched arms, looking at the snake with wide eyes. "3 Spectral Cherry fruits, gone forever! My wonderfully neat rows of Blossoming Phantasmal Mandrakes, ravaged by a greedy beast! 28 Illusory Dewberries! 173 leaves of Deceptive Miracle Palmwood, nowhere to be found!"



Scytale slowly started backing away.



Ashale'viaf looked a bit insane by now. "5 Radiant Sun Apples! They were Epic ranked!"



The snake paused. "In my defence, you had a hundred of those on that one tree."



"Exactly 100! Now there's only 95!" the spirit yelled with a hoarse voice. He stared at Scytale with an intense gaze for a silent moment.




Then he suddenly dropped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees, and sobbed. "Why is this happening to meeeee…."




The amphiptere shuffled his wings a bit awkwardly. "Um… okay. I'm just gonna…" he crept backwards, ready to hide in a nearby bush.




But a deft hand grabbed him when his back was turned and pulled him to face the bloodshot pink eyes of the plant spirit. "Oh no you don't." Growled Ashale'viaf.




The suspiciously murderous looking spirit stood up with a squirming silver snake in his grasp, and marched towards the centre of the artificial biome. When he made it to the central area, he turned 90 degrees and strode onwards towards one of the four exit points of the artificial biome. He put a hand against the light-blue mana-circle on the front of the glass door, and it swung inwards. Shutting the door behind him, he looked up at the artificial clear sky.



"Seal all exits until 48 hours have passed in biome A12: Wintery Wasteland. Use Highest Level Seals, so none other than user Ashale'viaf or the Faction Head may access."



"Command accepted." Returned a metallic, artificial voice, reverberating out of four speakers in the four top corners of the square room. Ashale'viaf gave Scytale a malicious grin as he placed the snake down on a grey boulder in the middle of the barren white room.



"I've heard snakes are cold-blooded creatures. If that's the case, then I'm sure you'll love this ice cold room." He snapped his fingers, and the rest of his body began disappearing into rose-pink particles shaped like petals.



"No, no, that's not how biology works-"



The snake stopped when he realised the plant spirit had already gone. He looked around the room he was within, fearing the worst.



Filled with frosty gales formed from the light blue mana-circles above, he shivered as he gazed at the white expanse, seeming larger than it was due to the artificial semi-translucent sky dome that filled the place. Untouched white snow covered the ground everywhere he looked, and only one corner held a small hill made of hard grey rock to look like a naturally formed stone mountain. Icicles hung from its overhang. There was not a single plant to be seen.



Scytale dashed towards one of the sealed glass doors and flapped his wings as he headbutted it, trying to push it open.



"Wait, wait! You can't do this to me! This is a crime! My bond is the Faction Head, the Faction Head, you hear me?! This is a felony! A betrayal of the highest order! HEY!"



In another artificial biome of the Pavilion, Ashale'viaf smiled gently as he used his spirit magic to carefully cultivate a white rose on one of several large bushes. Only he knew if the smile was due to the peaceful situation he found himself in, or if it was due to listening to the anguished crimes of a particularly greedy little snake in one of the other biomes.





"I've had a really bad idea."



Scytale looked up from within his many layers of blankets to gaze at the dark-haired girl next to him with weary eyes.



"...you wouldn't tell me you had a bad idea if you didn't intend to do it. What is it?"



Lucille was leaning forward, a chin on her hand, as she gazed intently at the table with a complicated expression. She frowned a bit as she responded.



"It involves the Citadel of Fate."



The snake stared at her unblinkingly with golden eyes for a second before forcefully shaking his head and trying to slither out of his bundle of blankets onto the floor of the living room.



"Nope. Nope. Bad idea, very bad idea, I'm out. Goodbye. And besides-"



He paused to let out a short sneeze and looked up at her, laying tangled within his blankets on the couch.



"I hab a colb." He sniffed.



Lucy clicked her tongue and picked him up within the bundle to place him on her lap, trying to unwind the blankets from around him. "I'm not sympathetic."



"Fireball spell please."



She sighed and snapped her fingers, the orange particles of atmospheric mana becoming attracted to the tiny speck that had formed above her fingers, and then merging to turn into a small round ball of flame that sat above her palm. With a bit of will it moved to hover slightly in front of the snake, Scytale sitting there with his eyes closed as he swayed back and forth while she unwrapped the blankets, falling to form a nest-like structure around him.




"I wouldn't have eaten those natural treasures if I had known the guardian spirit was so vindictive! Who knew a rose spirit could be so mean."



"Roses have thorns." She stated flatly. "And I've already told you not to eat them, for a good reason at that."



Scytale didn't open his eyes. "Are you sure? Maybe you're becoming schizophrenic as well."



She unceremoniously dumped one of the unravelled blankets on top of him. "Part of it is so the delicate ecological mana balances of those artificial environments aren't upset, but most of it is so you don't aggravate the monsterification process of your Ancient Retribution subskill by absorbing so much incompatible mana without a break."



The snake wriggled to try get the blanket off him. "I've been good since we've come back, so let me indulge just a little bit. I haven't gone below 80% bloodline stability in the past, and I've never been that greedy. You can trust me."




"How come I feel like I can vaguely remember you running to me to complain about indigestion when you swallowed several adamantium shielded ships because you didn't have lunch." She said, eyes narrowed.



"That was one time!" Scytale exclaimed, poking his head out from under the blanket.



"That was three times, actually." She pointed out.



Scytale hesitated. "Well, three times then."



He basked in the heat of the fireball for a bit longer and then turned to Lucy after the spell ended.




"So." He paused to sneeze again, then shook his head and continued. "What's this terrible idea of yours?"



She leaned back and crossed her arms with a contemplative look. "What if we go visit the Citadel's new Prophetess."



He stared at her once more. "You've finally gone mad. You're literally insane. I always knew it was coming, but now it's here, it feels too soon. Write me into your will while you still have a partially functioning brain, please."



She held up a finger. "I'm not insane. I have actually put deep thought into this."



Scytale narrowed his eyes at her. "I've heard most don't seem mad when the process begins."



She lightly whacked the back of his head and sighed. "Just listen properly for a bit if you're actually curious."



He sheepishly turned back around and wriggled himself into a better position for comfort. Once she could tell he was ready, she snapped her fingers, and out of her palm rays of light shone. They beamed onto the empty coffee table, and slowly, a holographic structure of gold crystal towers, bridges and spires was made visible. It rotated slowly above the table, shimmering slightly with its digital aesthetics. Scytale sneaked out his nose to bump the projection. It flickered slightly where he touched it, but didn't disappear.



"Your 3D model projections are by far your best spell idea for illusion magic. You should use them more often, it makes discussions with you less borin-"


"Do you want this explanation or not?" Lucy said with a glare.



He fell silent and she sighed again, running her fingers through her fringe. Then she gestured to the projection. "We have the intention of avoiding the Citadel of Fate due to several reasons, but the summary of the situation is this: Out of its five forces of Providence, Protection, Pledge, Prosperity, and Paragon, three of them are dangerous to us. Four if you count the fact that the Paladins of Pledge are the loyal hands of the Sages of Paragon."



She pointed at the hologram, and it zoomed in to show the six main golden glass towers with more clarity. Like a staircase, five of the six towers were arrayed in a circle around a central one, going from tallest to shortest in order. Five bridges connected these towers to the central tower. On top of each tower was a glowing yellow crystal shaped like a star, surrounded by a white frame. She gestured to the tallest outer tower.



"Paragon is obvious. Any member of Paragon is a skilled leader of one of the other subdivisions of the other forces and holds a position of power within the subdivision, having access to resources much greater than any normal individual of the Citadel. This includes the true Fate manipulation skills, as opposed to the lesser fortune or seer abilities gained by Prosperity. Only they can actually manipulate Fate as opposed to reading it, and so we will avoid them like the plague. The Sages have the most power."



She then gestured to the next highest tower. "Providence is also dangerous, if to a lesser extent. They have abilities to see how much Fate, or what our Fate is." She grimaced. "I have no clue what we would look like through their Fate-reading skills. We might even seem like Fate Devourers to them." Scytale gave her a nod, likewise uncomfortable with the idea. Being outed as a Fate Devourer meant the Citadel would initiate a kill on sight order for all their combat-capable members, and provide a big bounty reward for whoever finds them.



She skipped over the third highest tower, that one belonging to Pledge. The pointed to the second shortest tower, or fourth highest one. "As for Prosperity… unfortunately, as part of a Faction heavily involved with nobility, we'll have to deal with them and their fortune essence eventually. The best we could hope for is to offer them donations to ensure they don't cause Protection to withdraw their healers from supporting us. I'll need to at least make myself look busy so any of their representatives don't become too offended when I have to refuse their attempts at making a connection with me."



She looked down at Scytale. "They might actually be our way of getting you access to good light skills without me abusing my Authority to directly copy them into skill books for you, which would be highly suspicious."



He nodded energetically. "The Citadel holds a monopoly on all light-element catalysts for summoning light-element spirits thanks to their elemental origin plane Pedestal anyway, so getting the title of 'Sacred Beast' will grant me access to their exclusive Aspects. They've always wanted to draw the light element beasts of the Beast Realm under their banner so they can monopolise their support capabilities as well, so it sounds like a good idea politics-wise."



She sighed. "But that means we need to get past Providence without suspicion first. Which brings me to my plan with the Prophetess. But first, Protection." She gestured to the shortest tower. "Considering it's less of a proper force and more of a series of training facilities and hospitals for light-element healers, support mages, and any class that needs Thaumaturgy, it's not a threat to us. As the force with least power, as they answer to the other forces, we need to take care not to offend any of the other forces before we worry about them. Actually," she said, holding her chin in thought. "If all goes well with the Prophetess, I should consider expanding the branch of Protection in Gilded Seat as a show of support."



"Scheme later. What's this to do with the girl and her fancy light magic?"



She shook her head. "No, that's the saintess, a position given by Prosperity each 100 years to one female noble of the Empire with high affinity for light magic. The Prophetess is different. She's the most powerful seer within the Tower realms, and has the highest amount of fate, and best ability to manipulate it. Her class is given out directly by the System every twenty thousand years, which means the prophecies she sees always come true, as they are backed by the System itself." She explained firmly. "The Prophetess is the highest ranked position within the Citadel of Fate, for all that she was used as a figurehead for most of her life in the past under the thumb of the Grand Sage. While the saintess is mostly just a position used to appease the nobility's sense of honour and pride, the Prophetess is practically idolised by the commoners, and so has great popularity among them. She has no magic casting abilities."





"Okay, I get it. Anyway, your plan for the Prophetess?" he asked impatiently.



Lucy rolled her eyes, closing the projection with another snap of her fingers. "I want to meet her before she gets taken to the Citadel's branch in the Empire's Capital City."



Scytale sent his scepticism through the bond. "But that would require knowing the date she became the Prophetess. Her birthday."




She fell silent. The snake stared when he realised what that meant. "You didn't…. did you really go snooping around every Faction and their members' private information in the past?"



The mask-wearing woman glared down at her bond, pulling on one of the tufts of feathers on his crest. "No I did not, thank you very much." She frowned slightly. "I had to file a report at Pedestal one time when I was Commander due to one of their high-ranked members dying under my subordination at the Distorted Depths. The birth dates and death dates of their members were written together, and the highest ranked members were at the top of the list."



She scowled and looked intently at Scytale. "I'll let you have one guess at whose fault it was. I'll even give you a hint: the victim was pretty, female, and gave up her life for him." She gave a cruel smirk.



The snake let out a sardonic laugh in response. "His crimes just keep on piling up, don't they?"



She shook her head bitterly and then went silent, thinking hard as she frowned at the table. "But I saw something else that day when I went to file the report."



"Oh?" Scytale tilted his head curiously.



Lucille rubbed the back of her neck. "Next to the Prophetess's name, there was another member who had died, but was placed under 'Honorary membership'. He died at the time of his joining, which meant it was a case of someone putting someone with a high rank's name into the memorial tome, as a way of remembering them. But it was the last name that surprised me then."



She looked at him with a complicated expression. "Did you know the Prophetess had a younger brother?"



The snake blinked once, then blinked again. Then he sneezed. "Ugh… no, no I did not." He said, sniffling. "That… kind of feels like something I should know. Wait, not even just me, that feels like something everybody should know!"



She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "That's not the most important bit. He died two hours before she was taken back and officialised as the Prophetess."



"I… guess that explains why nobody heard about him and why he's only an 'Honorary member'….also explains why she looked so depressed all the time."



She frowned at the table, her expression still complicated. "It's not a very well-known fact, but the Citadel actually receives information about the new Prophetess and her location 3 days earlier than they officiate her. They usually send a high-ranked member or two of Pledge to guard her in secret as they observe her actions during that three day period she has her class. But there are protective measures in place for siblings and family members of the Prophetess, so if they didn't step in to save her brother… for some reason, they didn't want him to survive."



They fell silent as the contemplated the implications of that for a while. Scytale looked up at her. "So… is your sneaky scheme to be all manipulative and put the Prophetess into your debt by saving her brother?"



She whacked him on the head, but it didn't have any heat. "It's dangerous for someone like me to have the Prophetess indebted to me, regardless of my status as the Head of the Aurelian Commission and an honorary Commissioner of Finance for the Empire. I actually just want to talk to her, and see how her Fate abilities interact with me, considering how twisted my Status screen is. I… also want to make sure she's not set on a collision path with the Hero."



"That is… a very good point. You think he'll aim for a connection with her?" Scytale responded, eyes narrowed.



She nodded. "Definitely. He worked solo last time, but I can assume he'll want to abuse the extremely high Fate and light affinity his class gives him to gain support from the Citadel, whether indirectly or directly."



She placed Scytale back on the couch beside her, blanket free. Then she got up, went into the kitchen, and brought back some teacups and the brass jug. "But before we consider this any further, I think we should deal with our new visitor."



"Huh?" Scytale blinked, confused. "New visitor? What do you- oh. Ooooh." He swayed as he absorbed the new information sent through the bond. Then suddenly he got down on the floor and crept up onto the couch opposite Lucy, the one with its back turned to the entry and kitchen doors. "I have a good idea." He crouched down with his white-gold wings tucked, his silver body hidden from any newcomer's view.



She narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you think you are doing?"



Scytale hissed, "Don't spoil it!" and then went silent.



She rolled her eyes and sighed, and after pouring some tea for herself, leaned back on the couch with her legs crossed. They waited as footsteps approached their room. They heard a knock on the door.



"Uh… hello? Anybody in here? I was told to come here…" Came the sound of a familiar voice. They heard him curse as he fiddled with the doorknob. "Damn thing is worth more than a year of my wage." He grumbled.



The door creaked open as the face of Sedric Ferin was revealed, followed by the rest of him as he peeked into the living room. He surveyed the room and his gaze paused as he noticed Lucy staying studiously silent on the couch as she sipped her drink.



"Oh, so you were in here. Why did you not-"



"ROOOAR!"



"Eeeek!"



Lucy watched as Scytale had suddenly reared up and stretched out his wings in front of the young man, scaring the living daylights out of him and sending him scrambling backwards to lean against the wall with his back pressed flat against the surface, panting heavily as he stared at the metre-long snake, who stared back with golden eyes. Nobody said a thing.



Then Scytale broke the silence.
 
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