Chương 38: Chapter 42: The Asarii

"Watch out, my lord," cried the Huan cousins in unison, while only Erming jumped before the noble youth, taking the full brunt of the blow in his place. The youth was sent flying, blood spilling out from his mouth despite his protective shield. His body crashed into Benny, who was in the middle of casting his spell and had to readjust his mana flow from the backlash, knocking him down. Despite managing that, his expression was as ugly as it could be, mirroring Erming, who had received the blow for him.

"Get off me!" Benny shouted. Pushing the coughing, miserable figure off him, he cast a cold gaze towards the other group. With a swift motion, Ember appeared behind him. If a fight were to break out, the safest bet would likely be to flee. Though Ember feared that would only earn the ire of the Oberons and even his own house. His only choice was to confront them, not that Ember was against it, with that dark-skinned fellow ambushing him first. Regrettably, their chances weren't looking good.

The other group had three extra people against their five.

"You have some nerve," said a girl in a piercing tone. She was fair, swathed in black, in contrast to the white-clad youth who cast the spell at Benny.

"You're not only stealing our kills, but you even went as far as to attack us. Don't think you can get away with harassing the direct descendant of the Sha'azar." Ember blinked, wondering if they could be called royalty.

"Oh, it's folks from the Asarii clan," Benny said in a sarcastic tone.

"That makes quite a lot of sense. Now I see why you all failed to take care of these few pesky frogs. The Sha'azar certainly hasn't taught much to you."

"Watch your tongue, pink!" barked another.

"Our Sha'azar or his descendants aren't for the likes of you to rebuke." And here Ember thought only the young boys and girls from his group were bad. Anyhow, he had read about the Asarii clan, the ruling force of Whitehorn. Although they weren't the direct neighbours of Seynhold, there was enough cold war between them for the teachers in his clan to cover it. The Asarii was a clan boasting many septs within it, each related to a bloodline.

If history were to be believed, the ruler of Whitehorn, the old Sha'azar, had subjugated many territories, be it through political alliance or conquest. He had a harem of a hundred beauties, each coming from a prestigious bloodline. Supposedly, all of the Asarii clan came from his seed, although even after his reign, the Asarii had abducted many offspring from the bloodline clans to empower their dwindling lineage.

But even in their decline, Whitehorn's status was a tier above Seynhold, though Ember was unsure what that meant other than having slightly denser mana within the walls. The Arcanum seemingly divided safe havens into nine tiers, the higher the better. There were only two Tier 7 territories in the entire Perennial Verdance, while perhaps only the central continent, Perennial Empyrean, boasted a Tier 9 nation or two. Of course, Seynhold was no slouch either.

While Whitehorn was in decline, barely holding onto its Tier 6 designation, Seynhold was growing in prominence. It had risen from a Tier 4 territory to a Tier 5 one within a century, despite its hierarchy being divided among three houses, along with the Saint. It was also quite confounding that three bloodline clans, not just your run-of-the-mill bloodlines, had resided in a mere Tier 4 territory for millennia.

"Oh, it's a chick from House Oberon," said the youth in white, noting the crest of a pair of wings on Benny's chest. The supposed descendant of the Sha'azar was handsome and elegant in bearing, and somehow managed to stay pristinely clean in the muddy wetlands.

"Last I heard, the prized daughter of your clan chief went missing in a rift. Have you found her yet, no? You lot shouldn't have been so arrogant in rejecting the marriage proposal. If not, she would have been safe in Whitehorn, raising a number of little boys and girls of mine or my father." The fellow's grasp of their tongue wasn't as good as the girl's, but as Benny heard it, his face contorted in seething fury. Even Ember stared at the youth with hostility.

Outside his immediate family, Ember revered and respected only one person. And this prick in white was derogating her. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Ember cared little whether the bastard was truthful or not. Even if it was a common custom in Whitehorn, the youth had clearly meant it in a demeaning tone.

"Are you looking for death, savage of the Asarii clan?" Benny shouted, a wild amount of mana dispersing from his form.

"With your skills?" the youth sneered.

"Don't make me laugh." Despite their lower number, Benny was in no mood to back down.

"If you're so confident in your ability, why don't you come forward for a duel?"

"Wow," the young girl beside the youth laughed.

"I don't know if I should applaud your courage or laugh at your lack of intelligence." She gestured to the white-clad youth.

"Master Ezamin has already reached Tier 7. Even if you have reached Tier 6, you're still too green, cultivated like a potted tree within the safe bounds of your house. You have no position to duel him. But if you're itching for a fight, any one of us can entertain you." She took a step forward.

"Though I'd say you'll have better luck fighting with your group. At least then, there'll be someone to save your arse."

"What are you saying, sister?" laughed another youth.

"Not only are there eight of us against your five, one of our people is equal to two of their pinks. It's more like sixteen against five."

"More like sixteen against four and a half," said the dark-skinned youth who sneaked up on Ember. He joined her, shooting a glance towards Ember.

"There is a little child in their group." Ember glared back at the youth.

"If it's about barking insults," he said, "then you guys really have us beat." Since he didn't have to suppress himself from chastising others, Ember blurted out whatever came to mind.

"Well said," Benny sneered.

"The Asarii clan is all bark and no bite." It seemed the time for talk was over, as both groups seemed on the verge of bursting into violence. Ember kept his sword and wand ready, channelling a well-proportioned amount of mana into them. They would need only one command from either Benny or Ezamin, and they would all charge into battle. But before that could happen, another disturbance echoed from behind as another group joined them. Fortunately, it was one from their camp, led by Elin Oberon.

"I was wondering which moronic party was making such a ruckus in the wild," she said, "and it had to be the savages from Whitehorn, wouldn't it?"

"Good timing, cousin," Benny said as the other group of five joined them. He eyed the Asarii.

"Now it's sixteen against ten. Oh, sorry, nine and a half. Fancy your chances now, muttheads?" The youth in white, Ezamin, narrowed his eyes, deep in calculation, while his minions burst into curses. They fell silent once he raised an arm.

"Consider yourself lucky this time," he said.

"If it were a couple of weeks later, I wouldn't have minded showing you your place, even if the Master of Illclave tossed us out of here." His minions didn't forget to bark some threats.

"Don't let us find you before we leave the hunting zone."

"Keep our spoils."

"Yeah, we'll come to collect them when it's time." Benny wanted to engage anyway, deny them even the chance of coming at them, but a sharp look from Elin stopped him in his tracks.

"They really are savages," Erming snorted, as the group of eight faded into the distance.

"The Asarii don't forget even the mildest quarrel," Eileen said, eyeing her cousin, "and they have been butting heads with us for centuries. It's best if we move together." Benny agreed.

"They won't end it here," he said, "but we shouldn't back off from the challenge either. Those wretched savages of Whitehorn have killed so many of our ascendants during the trials, not to mention their constant harassment in the northern plains." He cast his gaze towards everyone in the group.

"The savages need to be taught a lesson. On behalf of House Oberon, I promise you that if any of you manage to maim, or even kill, any of them, the house will reward you richly." Ember frowned at the comment. He personally didn't believe the conflict between the younger generation would go to bloodshed, but it seemed he had been mistaken to assume the high nobles would be satisfied with anything less. He couldn't say he was looking forward to it either.

Ember couldn't even imagine what it would be like to slay humanoid creatures like goblins, much less kids barely in their teenage years. Besides, the Asarii were known for their vengefulness. Even if the Oberons were to reward him for their dirty work, he wasn't looking forward to being hunted down by them. Regrettably, a clash between them seemed inevitable. And he couldn't even avoid it since he had come with the group.

Ember's only wish was that one day he would be able to free himself from these nobles and bloodline clans. As the sun touched the horizon, they managed to find a couple more flocks of mirewood toads. Sadly, there were only a handful of iron-rank ones among them. Dividing that among the ten members of the group, Ember had barely made any progress in his quest. It was likely because the group from Whitehorn had made the toads scatter throughout the bog. Although his own group wasn't exactly inconspicuous either.

All in all, it was quite a productive day, though he was contemplating sneaking out after midnight to hunt some of those toads of his own. They were nocturnal creatures after all, and with the loud croaking, it wouldn't be difficult to find them either, now that Ember had learned of their relative dwellings. But before all that, he needed to hunt something for their supper.