Chapter 158: Undertones (2)

-An hour ago-

*Knock*

"Come in"

A man came in, garbed in an armless jacket and tight black jeans with daggers strapped to the side.

In front of him was the guild master of Raven Skull, Heiner hayne.

"Boss, they are here"

The boss jerked up abruptly.

"Did you see them?"

"Yes boss, saw Mad Fist. They've got something, I don't know what it is, but Mad Fist had a space ring"

"Anything else?"

"Beasts. He killed a lot of them, and I don't know how"

Hiener's eyes shined.

"All the more reason why we can't leave them alone"

"Inform Rubrus about this. What about Fire Scar?"

"They've agreed"

The boss smiled.

"Good. Spread the word. We attack tonight"

"Yes boss"

With that, he left.

On this day, armies gushed out of Niton's surrounding kingdoms.

Namely, Iris, Russell, Solace, Quartez, and Itrevezar.

Thousands upon thousands gathered with their armor distinguishing which kingdom they were from.

The armies of Iris, Solace and Russell were noticeably smaller.

Their justification was 'to take back Avilla's freedom'.

Niton responded in kind with knights, mages and shifters from various powers eagerly awaiting battle.

But this was not the case just an hour ago.

The cause was the Emperor putting mithril at the top of the rewards list.

To contain the war, the Emperor banned the intervention of Grandmasters, and the surrounding kingdoms agreed to it.

With Grandmasters out of the picture, Masters flooded the battlefield.

As one of the few metals capable of withstanding Grandmaster attacks, the Grandmasters wanted it for themselves, so they sent the Masters beneath them to acquire it.

Each was out for blood.

That of the enemy and unsuspecting allies.

The Emperor, who had predicted such a trend, was smiling insidiously.

With this, cooperation among allies would be nonexistent and blood would be spilled on all sides. Niton's population would dip massively.

To make sure of this, he had commoners - numbering thousands - forcefully conscripted.

They would die weak or become strong.

Whichever happened would be of favor to the Empire.

Meanwhile, the Sentinel was holding in his frustration.

'That damned man..!'

Priorly, he had sent a message informing the Emperor about the possible acquisition of a raw Mithril.

Even after making clear that it was still uncertain - for they had not yet sent any search parties to its location - the Emperor went out of his way and immediately declared it as a reward for war contributions.

'What a disaster..!'

Just thinking about the consequences 'if' the mithril had been stolen made his head hurt.

He decided to determine the situation personally.

Within minutes, he informed his assistant of his departure, left her in charge - after giving her the necessary information - and departed with all else being none the wiser.

Meanwhile, Ezra was plundering coins like a mad man, before replicating mana techniques with soul contracts bit by bit.

The Emperor had only allowed him to take one mana technique. He never said anything about combat manuals!

With this logic, he forced Bolton to allow him an unlimited amount of Combat Manuals.

Bolton didn't tell Ezra not to take every manual that seemed fancy and learn them.

He would understand on his own that quantity didn't translate into usefulness.

Ezra snickered inwardly. Bolton was counting on him damaging his blessed physique with his own hands.

Ezra picked scythe and dual wielding arts, along with a few others, to develop a unique fighting style.

If he ever needed more? He'd come and take it.

His mom had sent a letter of complaint to the count and Isabelle had become head maid.

Though, Ezra was expecting the witches to cause trouble over the matter.

The former head maid, well...was pitiful. So Ezra didn't spare her.

He had her tongue cut off for insulting his mom and she was fed just enough to survive.

Any attempt to kill herself had her severely punished.

He wondered if the head maid didn't have a backer, for them to stay still while she was suffering like this.

Oh well, it was none of his business.

Within a renovated building at the outer ring of Kingsmere, Fredrick played around with the kids.

He kept himself transparent, using the building as a temporary home, few knowing of his arrival in Kingsmere.

The fact that he had become a Master was to stay secret for a good while.

He taught the children - who had multiplied in number over the past few weeks - the art of fighting and had them do minimal exercise.

The kids had been moved to a new, and bigger, building bought with Cabrera's loan.

The building's exterior was purposely left in a bad state to obscure people's attention and blend in with the rest of the houses, while the interior was repaired to top quality.

Nathan had the renovated tavern reopened for business, and it was generating some amount of money.

The Merchant guild was also rising steadily under his lead, which meant it caught the attention of the gangs and faraway guilds.

*KNOCK*KNOCK*

With heavy bangs, a door opened forcefully, revealing a pale round head with sparse white hair and a lot of wrinkles. Brown eyes were framed by a pair of glasses and showed an enraged expression.

"Who dares to-"

He was cut off by a neutral voice.

"It's Orlando-"

"Then what are you-"

" -Sir, they've arrived"

His mouth formed an 'o', and he closed the circular wooden door right after.

Sounds of glass breaking resound thereafter and, three minutes later, the man revealed himself in full.

Garbed in a red robe reaching just above his knees, he spoke with a delighted face.

"Take me to them"

Orlando has his eyes taking in the man's figure.

"Sir, don't you find this situation a bit lacking? Having to meet such people personally?"

The man nodded.

"Of course I do, but if the news is true, then such an act is worth it. Embarrassment will fade in the face of glory"

Orlando shook his head.

"I don't like it, Sir"

"Then don't, your opinion is unneeded" said the man with a raised brow as he walked forward.

Orlando obstructed him.

"Sir, give me a bit of time to have them come to you"

What he got was a hard knock on his head.

"Sir?!"

"Don't you get it? That's the one thing we don't have, time! I can't afford to lose to that old geezer, the seat of Head Alchemist has to be mine!"

The boy rubbed his head.

"But he hasn't made any moves"

The man was skeptical.

"Does he not know of their arrival? Or is the news false?"

"That I know not, but he has yet to come out of his lair for the past eight days"

"Hmm..."

Orlando raised his three fingers, while still rubbing his head.

"Three days, Sir. In three days, I'll have them come to the castle"

That got him another raised brow.

"And once you fail?"

"I will say nothing concerning your actions"

"Sigh-"

He rubbed his head.

"-have it your way"

He then turned and went back into his lair.

Orlando wiped sweat off his face, realization dawning upon him.

'Although I said three days...is there a way?'

He had spoken in the heat of the moment, but he didn't have any idea of how to make it happen.

'There's got to be a way'

Nevertheless, he was intent on achieving his aim.

Like this, night soon fell.