Chương 19: Chapter 18: A Fighting Chance

"Did you hear me?" the old Heron scowled.

"This lot is my property." Torin wrapped his fingers around the war hammer in his coat, unsure what else to do. With one good throw, he might be able to silence the old man before he called for help. But before he could make a move, Casmia placed her palm on his arm.

"It's okay." She flicked her hood off and stared at the Heron above.

"It's been too long, Venworth." Immediately, the Heron softened.

"Casmia… By th–" he paused, now redirecting his attention beyond the lot.

"Get to the back, dammit. And put your hood up." He disappeared, and Torin let out a breath of relief.

"He's your contact?" Casmia nodded.

"Yes. We're in luck. Most would have disappeared the moment the plan failed, but we couldn't be in more capable hands." The old man stepped into view. Though his handlebar mustache burst with white hairs to match bushy eyebrows and a short-cropped top, he moved with the speed and discipline of a man a fraction of his age. Torin stared into a motley of wrinkles and liver spots and wondered how much of it was even real.

"Who is this?" Venworth asked, dark eyes narrowing on Torin.

"He's…" Casmia paused, mulling her next words carefully.

"A little hard to explain. Can we go inside first?"

"No. We'll go elsewhere before the proper owner of this house returns. Follow me, don't stop, don't lower your hood again." He glared at Torin.

"That goes for both of you." Before either could say another word, Venworth disappeared around the corner. Torin and Casmia quickly launched in pursuit. They hung only briefly on the street before disappearing between alleys. Venworth marched with purpose, the type of confident swagger one used when they had a destination to reach and no time to waste.

What few Hawks he allowed to cross this path barely paid him mind, his golden Heron medallion no doubt deterring these Silver-Rank guards before any had an idea to slow him down.

"I can't believe you know a Heron," Torin whispered to Casmia as they bypassed one such group. She chuckled.

"Venworth is no Heron. He's whatever he needs to be to get the job done."

"How does he pull that off? Do you know how hard it is to get medallions of that Rank?"

"I don't have the slightest idea, and neither will you. When this is over, we will most likely never see him again."

"Hope you don't mind getting your feet dirty," Venworth said from up front, not even turning his head. He shifted into another alley. Only then did he briefly look in either direction before shoving a pile of detritus aside. A manhole sat below, which the old man removed with ease. Torin and Casmia wrinkled their noses as the sewer became exposed again, but there was no way to avoid it. They plunged back into the darkness.

Fortunately, this trek did not lead into lower levels, nor did they fight giant rats or salamanders along the way. Venworth navigated the passages easily until they reached another neighborhood block. There, he went straight for the nearest door and knocked. Quick, precise, and with deliberate timing between sequences. The door opened. Venworth nudged his head inside and whispered. Other feet shuffled away before he leaned back out.

"The coast is clear," he said. This basement was far more spacious than the first, stretching at least twenty meters long. Boxes and casks piled along the walls, the smell of fermentation thick. Only a single stairwell led down, and the door locked with a clink as the trio stepped through. Even then, Venworth did not immediately speak. He inspected every centimeter of every wall, eyes searching for something unseen. Only after going through the full length of the basement did he pull out boxes for them to sit.

"Alright," he said at last.

"What went wrong, Casmia?" She explained quickly. The story came from her perspective, so she didn't have all the details, but it matched the truth closely enough.

"So, you're the one who brought down the statue," Venworth said, eying Torin with interest.

"And a Platinum-Ranked General along with it." Casmia shot Torin a sideways glance.

"You did what now?"

"Casmia told me that you know how to get out of the city," Torin said, changing the subject.

"Is that true? Can you get me out?"

"No," he said simply, with no room for debate. His chest tightened. After all the effort he put in to get here, and for what? To still be trapped?

"Come on, Venworth," Casmia said.

"This may not be what we wanted, but Torin did everything right once he knew the situation. I wouldn't have made it here without his help. If there's any way to escape, we owe him that much." The blood flowed to his cheeks. To think that just a few hours ago, Casmia was screaming at him. Now, she had his back. That much felt nice. But Venworth remained unmoved.

"You don't understand. The Marquis has shut down all traffic entering and leaving Vrisgard until you both are found. Your assassination happened in broad daylight, and once the State discovered a dead general in a pile of rubble with a missing ward, they assumed he was complicit too. He stole too much from the State for them to let him go." Torin grimaced.

"No, I didn't steal anything."

"Unfortunately, you did if you're responsible for your master's death. Cornelius Maximus had been assigned to the Rite of Passage. The State will not take this loss lightly."

"What are you talking about? What 'Rite'?"

"Once they reach old age, every State soldier must return to the Capital for a final training exercise. The goal is to expedite leveling for younger generations so that their experience is not wasted on death."

"But that would mean…" Torin gaped, remembering the letter that Cornelius refused to open. He hadn't thought much of it then, having been far too distracted with being killed, but now everything made sense. Give 'em hell, boy, Cornelius had told him in his last moment. Whether he had ever intended to kill Torin or not, it was impossible to say. Torin could still feel the tension in his limbs from the many foreseen deaths, and the thread had been as real as anything else.

But he did at least understand his old master's pride in seeing his death play out. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. By allowing himself to die and give Torin his experience, Cornelius had finally rebelled against the State. Torin curled his fingers into his palms. There was power in them, more than he'd ever had before, all because of that confrontation. Where was the justice in it all?

"How long do we have?" Torin asked, ready to think of something else. Venworth shrugged.

"It will take some time before they're able to create wanted posters based on other people's descriptions, but the entire city will be looking for both of you before long. State Intelligence is moving swiftly to make this happen.

"Until then, no one can leave, including me. The last skyship transport left over an hour ago. There won't be another. Not until their manhunt ends." Torin slumped, demoralized. He had suspected something like this would happen, but he hadn't expected it to go this far, this quickly.

"However," Venworth continued, "there is still some hope. This manhunt won't run indefinitely. If you can stay hidden for perhaps a few weeks, then with enough time, money, and luck, I could find an alternative. The city can't and won't endure an embargo over a couple dead bodies, no matter how important they were. After a certain point, they will announce the hunt was successful and shift the investigation to a lower priority." A few weeks.

It was possible to survive that long, especially if he descended into the sewers again. Still, Torin brought up his status. [Battle-Sighted] continued to tick down mercilessly, only hours remaining.

"What about the plan?" Casmia asked.

"The theft was part of the extraction."

"That is no longer possible. Our artifact has been moved out of the appraiser's office to somewhere far more secure because of today's events." Shadows fell across Venworth's face.

"Though perhaps it is not yet over…" A silent exchange took place between Venworth and Casmia, spoken only with their eyes.

"I trust Torin," she said.

"If this was some elaborate ploy by the Owls, they would have come for us already. They gain nothing by letting either of us stay free."

"No, they don't," Venworth agreed.

"Tell me, then, Torin Maximus. What would you do if we could steal a weapon powerful enough to destroy the Avinum State?" Torin's eyes widened. He wasn't sure if he heard correctly. He couldn't have… Not from this old man using such a casual tone. Did he really just ask that?

"I'd use it," Torin said without remorse. Venworth's lips curled up.

"That is good to hear. If there is any hope of salvaging our operation, it is with that mentality."

"What could possibly be in Vrisgard that's strong enough to destroy the State?" Venworth fished through some nearby boxes and pulled out a bottle of dark beer. With a glass at the ready, he prepared for a demonstration. He dripped a small amount of beer into the glass, only forming a thin, brown layer.

"When the System first integrated Yertha, it changed our world significantly. Humanity not only had a mass spiritual awakening that let them cultivate mana, but the boundaries of our physical space adjusted with it. Entire continents sprung into existence overnight, the old world being replaced by this new frontier.

"But this process did not come cleanly, as the System had to change the very fabric of the Corporium—that is, the physical world—to an irreversible degree." He dumped far more beer. Foam erupted at once.

"Extradimensional space was created temporarily to accommodate those changes before Yertha finally settled into what it is today." He scooped up the foam with his finger.

"Some of these glitches remain, stored in objects called 'Planar Fragments.' They have an extremely interesting property of translocating randomly when charged with electric– Er,'lightning energy,' if you will. Much like a [Teleport] Skill, except charged by lightning instead of mana. And, it just so happens to be the case that one such Fragment can be found in Vrisgard today."

"I don't understand," Torin said, studying the foam.

"How is that a weapon and not just a malfunctioning teleportation array?"

"By itself? It's only that. The State does not destroy what few Planar Fragments remain because it doesn't fear their potential. But they haven't seen the same vision as Lady Cicada." He rubbed the foam between his fingers. More beer dropped back into the glass.

"These Planar Fragments are still physical products of the Corporium. They are not influenced by the spiritual Aetherium where all mana is derived from. Whatever countermeasures work against magical teleportation do not apply against the Planar Fragment.

"That is how we can both steal the Fragment and escape. Once it is powered by enough lightning energy, it will create a localized spacetime distortion and randomly teleport within a hundred kilometers of the city, regardless of magical protection. And this process can be reversed." Torin stared in shock, the connection coming together. Innumerable magical arrays and nullium barriers guarded every town, city, and fortress owned by the State, but all this accomplished was to block the flow of mana.

If what Venworth said was true, then the Planar Fragment would bypass those defenses as if they were never there. Teleportation without mana. Would there be anything the State could do to stop it? And with that understanding, his heart raced as he considered possibilities. The Gnats could send their assassins where they needed, maybe even bombs, too. … If that gnat carries the right disease, Casmia had said, then the strongest king will still get sick and die. These weren't some small-time instigators.

They were planning on going all the way.

"Now you see why so many were willing to give their lives for this," Casmia said, reading his mind.

"You see why I was ready to die in an Owl cage if anything went wrong. The results outweigh the cost of any one of our lives."

"How many times does the Fragment work? How far can it go?" Torin could barely contain his excitement.

"That is difficult to say," Venworth conceded.

"Stealing the Planar Fragment is our primary goal. Understanding it will take years in a controlled environment. Crafting usable equipment for our organization could easily be far longer.

"But there is no denying that since the Gnats were first founded, this would be our most significant victory. A teleportation device to bypass the magical defenses of the State is something they can't survive. With the right people in the right places, we could behead the entire government before they knew what hit them."

"Where did they move it, Venworth?" Casmia asked. His enthusiasm diminished.

"This is where we have another problem. They sent the Fragment to the Roost of Cranes. In order to get inside, we will need assistance from a Gold Rank or higher. That will take days to arrange."

"Would just their Spirit Tag work?"

"Yes. Yes, it would. Why?" Casmia looked at Torin, and Venworth with her. Torin pulled out the Spirit Tag he'd stolen, pressing the runestone to confirm what was on their minds. Name: Clemian Sabellun Level: 90 Class: [Alchemist] Roost: Crane Occupation: Alchemical Researcher Venworth raised his bushy eyebrows.

"Interesting."

"You don't have to do this," Casmia said, though her face spoke differently. She really wanted him to do this.

"No, you don't," Venworth echoed.

"I can still arrange for an escape if you do not want to put yourself at risk. Our organization does not force anyone into roles they don't want. That is what separates us from them." Torin grimaced. He had not planned to go this far. Rescue the Gnat, sneak her to safety, and plan for what came next only once free. It was supposed to be a quick and simple way to undo the damage after unlocking his Trait. But now it had developed into so much more. Torin looked out the crack in the wall.

He could just make out High Perch on the mountaintop, lording over all beneath. Could he really just walk away from an opportunity this significant? Not much time remained on [Battle-Sighted]. When he lost that advantage, there was no telling what would happen. He'd only survived through past fights because of how easily it saved his life. How much control would he lose the second it disappeared? But if he followed through with this heist, he could perhaps escape in time.

They just needed to get to this Planar Fragment before the timer ended. Then, he would be free and gain a tool that could eventually dismantle the State. Torin gleamed.

"When do we begin?"