The party of two had become four. Alfred was injured but he still exerted himself to protect the four of them through the worst part of the storm. After the wind had significantly died down some distance later, the Level 4 still refused to rest.

“Boram, look.”

“Is that a body? Ah, it’s one of them assassins, Master.”

Boram approached the fallen body beside the road. It was a shriveled husk.

“It might be booby-trapped. Stay away, Boram.”

“What happened to him?” Croix asked.

“He used a Forbidden Arte and the toll was too much for his body. He’s too far gone so those guys left him to die, I suppose… Yep, his inventory ring and anything of value is gone.”

“They didn't try to save him?” Croix looked at the dead man with pity.

“It might be more trouble than it's worth for them,” Viers callously replied. “Healing is expensive, resource-wise.”

“Master, what exactly are Forbidden Artes? I’ve heard the term before but…”

“Artes that are dangerous to the user or socially unacceptable. Sometimes both. For example, this guy used the life force burning kind, the most common Forbidden Arte. It is a dangerous act usually saved as a last resort. It’s forbidden for a reason. It cracks your foundation as a Pathseeker. There are many other long-term demerits in exchange for short-term benefits. Just look at this guy’s sorry state. The other common kind is the berserking type. Not all of the berserk Arte are forbidden, only those that are very extreme.”

Viers stuffed the body into his inventory item for corpses after checking there were no problems with it. The Level 3 body could be used as nutrients for Dia or soil for the Biome. The soul did need not be mentioned, Viers was always in demand for souls. Quite full of resentment in this one. He felt his death was unjustified and his life unfulfilled.

“What about the socially unacceptable kind?” Boram asked while they were walking.

“Pathseekers wield great strength. It is important to not use that strength irresponsibly. Artes that have a great range of uncontrollable destruction, disease-spreading, demon-summoning, raising the dead, and the like are Forbidden Artes.”

The one who answered was Alfred.

“Oh…” Boram was in deep contemplation.

“There’s also the human-sacrificing kind, although using other sentient species such as dwarves and beastfolks is just as unacceptable. It is usually a ritual type Arte. Slaughtering children to empower some sick ceremony or whatnot. And yet, as you experienced it yourself, Forbidden Artes are powerful. Be careful when facing someone using them or you’ll fall victim to them,” Viers added.

“Shouldn't the rulers ban those kinds of Artes? Stop their distribution and prevent others from learning them?” The prince didn't like them.

“They are, Young Lord,” Alfred said. “People that are caught using Forbidden Arte are heavily punished in Latias and every other nation. Teaching Forbidden Artes is similarly a crime.”

“But it will never go away,” Viers inserted. “Those who got Forbidden Artes hide the fact they have them.”

“...Mister Avel is correct,” Alfred confirmed.

“B-but why? Won't the world be better if there’s no Forbidden Arte?”

“As long as there are people seeking greater power, Forbidden Artes will never go away,” Viers answered with certainty.

Why, the man was a hoarder of Forbidden Artes.

“Even without Forbidden Artes, a Level 5 can go into a city and murder everyone inside. Chances are, no one can stop him. Just bad people.”

“Good point, disciple. There are people that did that in history. But people are so disgusted by the act that this kind of Pathseeker is universally hunted and put down like a rabid animal. That is why there’s still civilization on this continent. After all, no sane man wants to live in a broken world.”

“How can people think of doing such a sinful thing…” Croix said in a small voice.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Speaking of sin, the Estellian Church is also a factor. They have the biggest stick, and bonk sinners they deem unacceptable in their book. And oh what a big stick they have. Yes, sinner sinner beware. You don't need to be overly worried, Prince Croix.”

Viers gave a smile and a nod.

***

They stayed off the road as they were hunted which made travel difficult. That was before factoring in the wounded.

“Alfred, you must rest! This is an order!”

“Forgive me, Young Lord, but I cannot obey that order. Not when your safety is still at risk.”

Besides the unseen threat of the previous assassins, the Level 4 was wary of the two strangers. He couldn't let the young prince unguarded and fall asleep.

It wasn't a bad call but as a result, his condition wasn't getting any better and even worsened. Normally, battles among Pathseekers resulted in injuries that were hard to heal. Some cases even lasted for years or decades.

***

A day later.

“We should be safe now. There’s a small village nearby. Should we rest there?” Viers said.

Croix and Alfred, who was in terrible condition, were riding Viers and Boram’s horses while the owners were on foot.

“No, we should keep going,” Alfred insisted. His face was blue and his wounds had discolored.

Pathseekers still needed sustenance and rest but there were ways to mitigate that. The viable ways were stocking rations in the bag of holding and Artes that made the user not need sleep for a time or make one hour of sleep as good as six hours. The party of four traveled without stopping but even that had limits.

“Look man, your loyalty is commendable but you’re no use to your lord half-dead. Or full-dead soon. Unless you plan on becoming an undead. Stormberg is still three days away, and that is with the road. We cannot use roads. You won't last.”

“Mister Avel is correct. I’ll not allow you to kill yourself with stubbornness, Alfred.”

“Ghh… As you will, my lord.”

“Good. Then let's get going.”

“Wait, Mister Avel, we can't go there,” Croix said.

“Pardon?”

“I’m afraid those people will massacre them again,” Croix looked down. “We can't let uninvolved people be put at risk.”

“So it’s okay for involved people like me and Boram to be put at risk?” Viers asked.

“T-that’s not-” Croix looked genuinely surprised. He did not have this thought in his mind. Might be because of his highborn upbringing. They usually had vassals to do their bidding and not get a no.

“Avel, watch your language when speaking to the prince…” Alfred warned.

Viers didn't turn his face away from Croix but showed a teasing smile. “I’m just kidding. Let us find someplace to camp before the sun sets. Away from public eyes.”

The way they made an ordinary camp, tents and the like, was disappointing to Viers. He expected them to have a spatial safe room or something similar but their supplies seemed to be even poorer than Viers’. Even Viers had the Picture Room, how could a royal and a Level 4 not? It did not bode well for their condition. He expected more from them.

Else, how could he get good things from them?

Viers didn't show his dissatisfaction on his face. At any rate, because he also didn't want to get attacked while resting, he raised a strong barrier around them, for protection and obfuscation.

After eating and resting, late in the night, the prince approached Viers who was keeping watch. Boram had just swapped sleep time with his master and Alfred was in deep sleep because of his wounds. The guardian had warned Croix of the danger that Viers possessed and urged him not to do anything rash. It was good advice that Viers couldn't fault him for.

“I want to apologize for my conduct. Somewhere in my head, I felt your assistance was warranted. Even though you and your disciple aren't sworn to me or owe allegiance,” Croix said.

Viers hummed in reply.

“We still haven't discussed terms,” Croix continued. “How may I thank you for your aid? Say anything you want, wealth, status-”

“Are those yours to give, Your Highness?”

Croix didn't answer. Viers’ question caught him off guard.

“I’ll be honest with you, Prince Croix. I saved you because I’m expecting something in return and not out of the goodness in my heart… That, and you were polite. It showed your character.”

Viers leaned closer to Croix who sat across the magic item substituting the campfire.

“I have things that I want but I doubt you’re in any condition to fulfill them. For now, let us focus on reaching Stormberg. You said you’ll be safe there, are you certain of this?”

“Yes. I’m certain.”

“Then I’ll take it upon myself to see you arrive there in one piece. Even if you doubt my loyalty, have no fear, Highness. The prospect of those assassins having things that I want is far too low for me to throw my lot with them. I’m not seeking something as simple as gold, after all.”

Croix felt Viers was telling the truth. “Very well, Mister Avel. I’ll be counting on you. In the end, I'll see to it you’re fairly compensated.”

***

At noon the next day…

“Heads up, we’ve got company,” Viers said.

“Is it them?” Croix tightened his hood. “Have the assassins caught up to us?”

“No…” Viers looked at the group of armored men. “They are-”

“Aha! Found you at last!” One of them pointed his finger. “You shall answer for your crimes!”

“You’re that guy from before!” Boram exclaimed. “Hussein!”

“Hoffstein!” The man corrected.

And he was back with a vengeance.