Chương 173: B3 - Chapter 9: Token

Seth stepped into the winding streets of Veretia, his teeth still clenched together from the images of the empty royal pavilion. As he turned into a narrow, stone-paved alley to bypass the main thoroughfare, the distant clatter of wagons and the low hum of voices vanished, along with all the ambient noise. The silence was heavy and absolute. Seth slowed his pace, realization sinking in: he had just stepped into the field of an Isolating Crystal.

At the far edge of the alley, two figures clad in polished plate armor emerged from the shadows. They were the same two NEVAK officers who had been standing in the middle of the neutral zone five minutes earlier: the woman with her sharp, aristocratic features and eyes like cold flint, and the man whose presence felt as immovable as a mountain. Seth stirred while his core roared in his chest like a caged predator. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves groaning under the strain.

In truth, he knew instinctively that even if he were to turn and run, these two could end his life before he even took a step.

"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice cutting through the unnatural silence.

"There's no chance you are from Kastal."

"I have Proof of Citizenship from the Oracle Guild," Seth immediately answered. The woman's eyes narrowed into a piercing gaze.

"Oh?" Seth plunged his hand into his Endless Pouch to retrieve the piece of parchment, yet in the process the air before him blurred violently. His core erupted in a frantic warning, yet his physical body was too slow. A thin, gleaming blade was suddenly inches away from his throat, the cold tip threatening to bite into his skin. Before the steel could draw blood, the same overwhelming bloodlust that had seized the plains earlier surged through the alley.

It pinned Seth to the ground and forced the two NEVAK representatives to their knees, their faces contorting under the crushing pressure.

"The kid said he has a Proof of Citizenship," a familiar, gravelly voice echoed. Marcus stepped from behind an adjacent building, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of the weathered leather jacket that had replaced his usual alchemist robes. The old, bearded man looked remarkably bored for someone currently making two powerful overseers kneel.

"It's a bit disrespectful to try to execute him before he can even prove his innocence, don't you think? Even for you lot." A brilliant white glow erupted around the woman. The aetheric light pulsed, shearing through the oppressive bloodlust and allowing her to scramble backward to stand next to her ally, who was pushing himself back up. The woman's breathing was ragged, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and anger.

"Who are you?" she said, her hand tightening on her sword.

"Do you really need to know my name to behave as you should?" Marcus asked, his expression flat.

"You are here to observe, not interfere with the internal affairs of those two nations." The woman growled and stepped forward, her short sword flashing as she prepared to lunge, but the man beside her gripped her arm with what looked like a crushing hold.

"Stop." The woman looked at her ally, taken aback, yet the man's gaze remained on Marcus.

"We cannot win this fight," he explained. The woman's eyes flickered between Marcus and the surrounding shadows.

"That bloodlust... it was him?"

"No," the man next to her answered.

"It was his beast's." Seth kept a straight face, though he couldn't help but glance at Marcus from the corner of his eye. Marcus has a contracted beast?' I knew the old prick couldn't be that badass on his own,' Nightmare's voice rumbled in Seth's head.' It's his beast who made all those people kneel, not him.' Seth pressed his lips together, still remembering how people in Asethka had addressed the Alchemist with so much respect.' I wouldn't be so sure about it.'

"Give them your proof, Seth," Marcus said. Seth reached into his pouch, pulled out the cold piece of etched metal, and tossed it toward the officers. The man caught it effortlessly. As his eyes landed on the engravings, his pupils dilated.

"Draeria," he muttered. The woman leaned in to look at the artifact, her expression shifting to one of dawning realization. She looked back at Seth, and this time her gaze lingered on his face.

"Your eyes... a concealment enchantment?" Seth remained silent.

"It would be best if you didn't report this to the NEVAK high command," Marcus said.

"We both know your organization has its share of leaks. Things could get messy if this ends up reaching the wrong ears." The two NEVAK officers exchanged a quick glance. Seth felt a chill of unease; Marcus had just voiced that there was a mole in their organization, and neither of them had tried to deny it.

"And what do we get in exchange for our silence?" the woman asked as pragmatism seemed to override her previous anger. Marcus reached into his pocket and tossed a small, dull coin toward her. She caught it and held it up to the light before inspecting the intricate sigil pressed into the metal.

"One of my tokens," Marcus answered.

"And we're just supposed to believe it's worth our silence?" she asked coldly.

"We don't even know who you are." Marcus tilted his chin toward the officer beside her.

"He does." She glanced at her partner. The man was still staring at the token, jaw tight, hesitation plain in his eyes.

"Could I use this to bring you back to the table?" he asked Marcus. Marcus' expression hardened, then a shadow passed over his face.

"Maybe. But not while that man is still breathing." Silence stretched between them. The officer exhaled slowly a few seconds later, shoulders sagging as if the weight of it had finally settled.

"Fine," he answered at last, looking at the woman next to him.

"We won't say a word, at least for now." He paused.

"But sooner or later, they'll find out on their own." That said, the NEVAK officer turned on his heel and began to walk away. The woman gave Marcus and Seth one last, lingering look before following the man out of the alley. As they crossed the boundary of the Isolating Crystal's field, the sounds of their footsteps vanished. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Seth looked at Marcus, who was already reaching into the folds of his stained traveler's coat. The Alchemist pulled out two small green vials and held them to Seth.

"For the next rounds. One for the day of the battle, and one for the moment you come out, just like today." Seth took the vials, his fingers brushing the cold glass, then he looked at the blur of the silencing dome of aether around them, which put his mind at ease.

"How much longer will I need to hide my eyes, Marcus? As that man said, people are going to find out soon anyway." Marcus leaned back against the soot-stained brick wall, eyes narrowing beneath the creases at their corners.

"It depends," he answered.

"How soon are you planning on becoming a deserter? The first time Draeria sends people after you, NEVAK might intervene. They won't want to lose face." The Alchemist's mouth twitched faintly.

"But it won't take long before they decide you're not worth the trouble. And when that happens… that's when we'll have to leave." We? The word echoed in Seth's mind. So Marcus had already decided that he would come with him.

"But the moment I run away, my squad will get slaughtered in their next battle," Seth said.

"Then don't run at all. Keep those eyes hidden for the next five months. Once the Iron phase ends and the Silver Squads take over, your friends will be safe." Seth's hands rolled into fists.

"I was hoping the war would be over before that." Marcus let out a humorless sigh.

"You'd be a fool to think you can end it yourself." Seth's jaw tightened. He glanced down at his forearm, at the aetheric chain the Scribe had etched into his flesh months ago.

"What about the trial inscription?" he asked.

"It won't let me leave Kastal."

"We can have it removed in Asethka." Seth's eyes widened.

"Then why didn't we do it last time?"

"Because it would've caused problems." Marcus' tone went flat.

"Any Gold Wielder would've noticed its removal once you were back. Better to leave the chain in place until you've actually decided you're ready to snap it and run." Seth hesitated for a moment.

"And once I decide to… where would I go? I'd become a wanted man by both Kastal and Draeria." Marcus' expression didn't soften at all.

"That's the Path you stepped onto when you both decided to join Trogan Academy and save those people from the Faertis." His gaze held steady.

"You set the boulder rolling. It's not stopping any time soon." Seth remained silent, mind racing through the events that had led him here. Could he really have done otherwise? Staying away from trouble would have meant letting innocent people die. What was the point of his becoming stronger if he couldn't use that strength to make the country a better place?

"War is an important talking point across the Cities Rifts and the world in general," Marcus continued.

"Your deal with the Marshal won't help either. Having the highest contribution in the Iron phase is basically an invitation for everyone to find out exactly who you are."

"Yeah, but I didn't really have a choi—" Seth stopped abruptly, his eyes snapping to Marcus' wrinkled face.

"Wait. How do you know about the deal with the Marshal? I never told you." Marcus rubbed his face, the sound of his stubble rasping against his palm loud in the silenced dome.

"I'm forced to be near you whenever you are close to people from the NEVAK. To protect you in case something happens. Since that man didn't have any intention of killing you, I didn't intervene, so you didn't know I was around." Seth frowned at one of the Alchemist's words. Forced? Why would Marcus be forced? Was it just a turn of phrase, a way of saying he felt a moral obligation to protect Seth because of his father? Or was there something deeper—a contract or bond that tied the Alchemist to his safety?

Before Seth could finish the thought, Marcus went on, "The deal itself is fine, even though a Legacy is worth more than an unexplored Rift. Unless you get lucky and find a place filled with Seeds or Essences. But odds are, you'll be trading a high-value item for a chance at something decent." Seth nodded. He knew that—an unexplored Rift was nothing more than a gamble. It could be filled with valuable items. Or nothing.

"Did you know the Cave of Elementals was this valuable?" he then asked, thinking of the resources the Champions of Chaos had secured. Marcus winced, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"I had a general idea from the intel I received, but I didn't know to that extent. To be honest, it's going to make things even more complicated. It likely gave your Adventurers' branch greater ambition. In the current situation, that's not particularly great."

"Why?" Seth's jaw tightened.

"Would you prefer them to just stay subservient to the noble Houses? For the king to keep them under his thumb?" Marcus pinched his nose.

"What I'm saying is that with the war, eyes are already on Kastal. Powerful people could be seriously interested in knowing how a group of people suddenly became strong enough to overthrow a king. Ambition could draw a target on their back, especially if people suspect they stumbled across multiple Seeds." Seth focused on the vibration of the Isolating Crystal's aether hovering around him for a second, making sure the conversation couldn't reach someone's ear.

"You think people would try to kill them just to harvest the Seeds from their bodies?"

"No." Marcus shook his head.

"At least, not with the NEVAK's involvement during the war and the protection period after. But they might try to help the king stay in power, or stop Kastal from gaining its independence altogether."

"You know about them wanting to free the country from Volantis' grasp?"

"Yes. That was the reason behind the first coup as well," Marcus answered.

"It makes sense for it to be among the main motivations for them to give it another try." In that instant, Seth realized the Alchemist didn't know the full extent of the Champions of Chaos' plan—how they wanted to do it on their own terms this time, bypassing the other Noble Houses and turning Kastal into a land without nobility altogether.

"So my father knew he was protecting a puppet from Volantis?" Seth asked with a wince. The Alchemist sighed. It was obvious that the old man hated being the bearer of old secrets.

"It was one of the reasons why he said yes… and why he and your mother chose Kastal in the first place. The king of Volantis made your mother break her aether channels to please the higher-ups of the army there, but he knew your father could keep her alive as long as he stayed close to her. On top of that, Volantis was supposed to protect them if Draeria ever found out their location, in exchange for your father stopping the rebellion here... and help him with something else you don't need to know."

Seth's eyes widened as the pieces of the puzzle shifted into a new, darker shape.

"But the old bastard died," Marcus continued, "and the contract ceased to exist with his final breath. His successor didn't think it was worth the trouble to honor his father's words and protect a Draerian exile and his crippled wife. He abandoned them out of both disregard and pettiness." Seth's knuckles turned white.

"Why pettiness? What did they ever do to him?" Marcus looked at Seth, expression unreadable.

"It's complicated, boy. And it doesn't matter. At least not anymore." Seth knew the Alchemist's stubbornness well enough to recognize when pressing on wouldn't bring anything more. He decided to pivot, bringing the conversation back to the most imminent matter.

"Do you think there's a way for the Champions of Chaos to actually free Kastal from Volantis?" he asked.

"They were hoping to eventually secure support from the NEVAK council with the change in leadership." Marcus exhaled loudly, then shot a glance toward the end of the alley.

"They probably could," he admitted, though his tone lacked any trace of optimism. He took out a metal flask from an inner pocket.

"But bringing down the king wouldn't be enough. They would need the backing of high officials within the association or support from other nations to validate their cause on the global stage. Getting that kind of leverage is nearly impossible when you're isolated from the rest of the world like Kastal is. And it's even harder when you have almost nothing of value to offer in exchange for that service." Seth's mouth flattened into a thin, hard line.

The people were fighting a war they'd never chosen, led by a king they didn't want, trapped in a cycle of exploitation. This was the first real crack in the walls—a way out. And the Alchemist was telling him it still might not be enough.

"Do you think you could help them?" Seth asked, meeting Marcus' eyes. The old man paused, his flask halfway to his lips. He looked at Seth for a long time, his gaze seemingly searching for any sign of hesitation.

"Is that really what you want, boy? To throw yourself headlong into the very mess your parents spent their lives fleeing?"

"I want to free the people here," Seth answered, resolute. Rarely had he felt this convinced about something.

"I want them to be the captains of their own fate, not pawns in a game between the king, the empress, Volantis, and whoever else is involved. I know I don't have the strength to make it happen myself just yet, so I can only rely on you to help the Champions of Chaos bridge that gap... at least for now." Marcus remained silent for a few heartbeats, looking at the sky before closing his eyes.

"Strength is often not enough to change the tide of something that significant," the man finally muttered a few seconds later. He looked back at Seth, and for the first time, his cynical mask seemed to slip, revealing a glimmer of something resembling concern and respect.

"But if that's truly what you want... I'll see what I can do."