Chapter 143 - Undercurrents (7)
Chapter 143 – Undercurrents (7)
Elsewhere, two men draped in dark brown clothes walk along the streets of a small village.
Torches hung along the village’s wooden fence lit up the way.
Their high quality clothes made a stark contrast with their surroundings, in turn making them a feast for the eyes of the village residents.
These men bore such things no mind as their legs never stopped moving.
One had his gaze fixed on something within his palm, while the other feasted his eyes on the surroundings, and he did not like what he saw.
With haste, he spoke…
“How long till we get out of this dump? It is blemishing my existence” the other answered absent-mindedly, not once moving his gaze from the object in his palm as he took a short turn.
“Almost there my lord, almost there”
“You have been saying that for so long now, Giffard. Are you even sure the man who did the deed is actually here?”
“Very” he said and a smile blossomed on his lips.
“And we’ll be meeting him soon”
With quick footsteps, they arrive in front of a two floor building with lights – jars containing light fleas – hung along the sides.
The few windows on the sides spoke volumes of what was happening within, as loud and merry chatter carried on.
“A tavern?”
“It would seem so” Giffard replied.
“Tch-”
He clicked his tongue.
“-lets just get this over with”
With that, he pushed the door carelessly to reveal a tavern filled with just enough people to make the atmosphere seem bustling.
The light of the tavern revealed his face in full.
He had white skin, long black hair, and black eyes. A single earring dangled from his left earlobe.
He practically reeked of high status from his visage alone.
That, and his loud opening, had caused the chatter to halt and attracted all eyes.
Again, he paid it no mind as his gazes swept over every figure.
And well, all he could say was that they seemed the same.
Haggard, loud and lousy. This was his assessment.
*Creak*
Giffard steeped in moments later with his gaze still on the item.
His head was small with short brown hair.
The image of the item became clear. It was a small pendant with fading sigil marking.
“Did you find anything, my lord?” he asked.
Giffard replied with a nod to the side.
Without words, he moved his hands in a funny way, making a small circle appear on his palm.
The pendant lit up with a dim light, and Giffard turned his gaze to survey the crowd.
A second, then two passed with nothing happening.
By the third second-
“AHH!”
From above, right on top of Giffard’s position, a painful scream awoke most of those present.
“Oh? So he’s up there” the other man said.
Immediately, he jumped and broke through the ceiling. On the second floor, he found himself a drunk – judging by the smell of alcohol – dirty man screaming in pain with his hands clenched on his stomach as hard as possible while laying on a bed.
A vein popped up in the man’s head as he beheld such an appearance.
His gracefulness disappeared with fury replacing it as he held up the screaming man and screamed to his face.
“How did someone like you do it?!”
His eyes analyzed the still screaming man and he asked again…
“How did someone like you kill Rowan with such a pathetic-”
He suddenly paused and narrowed his eyes.
Taking a closer look, he found something interesting.
“Who left you in such a manner?”
The other man didn’t seem to have any cognisance of what was happening and all he could do was to keep up his screams.
The pain was vivid all over his face and he seemed like he would cry soon if the pain didn’t cease.
Taking a closer look, the face…was familiar!
The man screaming…was Ilyon!
“It seems there’s a lot we don’t know”
He broke the front wall and landed in front of the tavern with Ilyon in hand.
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“Giffard, you can stop now”
Giffard stopped what he was doing and the circle disappeared.
Along with it, the bar owner fainted at the sight of such destruction.
Giffard surveys Ilyon.
“This is him?” he asked bewildered.
“It is. We’ll have him tell us what exactly happened”
Then he tosses Ilyon, who had fainted from the pain, to Giffard.
“Get him cleaned up”
Such a task had Giffard pausing for a second, before answering…
“As you wish”
With that, both men ran off.
________________________
Meanwhile, news of Avilla’s conquest spread.
Noble families, guilds and clans had sent representatives to draw lots for the occasion.
As implied, because only a quarter of Niton’s elite force were to rally for battle, lots had to be drawn to decide which factions would participate.
Exceptions existed, such as families or clans an Admiral is affiliated with.
Of course, because of things like these, most Admirals are picked from small sized affiliations.
Meaning, their organizations don’t have many members, and therefore cannot send a large force.
This allowed other powers to get an adequate chance to send troops.
Of course, quotas existed to avoid the situation of a family mobilizing its entire force to monopolize all the opportunities and rewards.
Thanks to long distance communication items, lots had been drawn and selected troops were now heading for Avilla.
There were high ranking mercenaries among them, while a few were already there.
The merchants were also heading towards Avilla with high expectations.
After all, wars were very costly, and those smart among them could see it coming.
_______________________
With the contract done, Cavarl told the Emperor that the missionaries were ignorant of the existence of the mana stones, so the Emperor didn’t kill them.
Since then, Carval had been supervising the mining of mana crystals.
It was a task given to him by the Emperor.
Another Master had come to join him on the Emperor’s orders, and a lot of Avillians were utilized as miners.
_______________
As different groups arrived in batches, they found Avilla in a state of silence with most people having slept early.
To make sure the ruling hierarchy never caused problems, the Emperor sent them, and their children, along with a few individuals he deemed a threat, to their early graves.
That same night, he figured that he’d send Valin’s children to Kingsmere, as the next dawn would signify the beginning of a war, and he couldn’t guarantee their safety in a warzone.
As children of a Grandmaster, they had to have something special about them.
Letting them die would be a waste.
The children were gagged, thrown into a small carriage reinforced with iron bars, then shipped to Kingsmere.
He would decide what to do with them once he got back.
Meanwhile, the Emperor was racking his brain on those who plundered the Manite mine prior to them.
‘No mana stones were found in the royal treasury or anywhere else. Then, did a noble from our side take it?’
Such thoughts caused the Emperor a lot of discomfort.
If it was stolen by any of the great noble families, then the possibility that a Mythical-rank fighter might be born was certainly not small.
And yet, he couldn’t do anything about it as he has no clear proof.
That didn’t mean he was just going to sit down while others moved to dethrone him. No. That only he’d have to move meticulously to achieve such aims.
Without anyone knowing, conflict has arisen between the royal family and the great noble families.
‘But of course, the war at hand takes priority’ thought the Emperor.
Any rare artifact had been plundered, along unneeded buildings.
He was planning on integrating Avilla back into Niton.
Yes. Back into, because it was once Nitonian land.
If so, killing and harming the citizens or damaging the economy would do more harm than good in the long run.
Looking over the streets, Avilla didn’t carry the atmosphere of a place just conquered if you ignored the low voices.
The Emperor nodded.
Things were running smoothly.
Like so did the night go, and in a flash, dawn approached.