I’m being underestimated.

Viers broke cover to shoot. Out of three bullets, one missed and two hits. He pulled back his head before the countershot came.

“You’re quite good at this. Almost looks like you’ve experienced gun fights. Hahaha! I like it!”

Tsk. As expected, normal bullets don't do a thing to him.

The gun-using assassin treated their fight as a game. He didn't use his Domain or special Artes, only his gun, shooting skills, and sometimes, special bullets.

Which suited Viers just fine.

In fact, he was grateful for his opponent. If the Level 4 fought for real, he would be at a severe disadvantage. The impression Viers got about that guy was he was a guy who newly found his obsession with guns. He would definitely be the guy who would aim for a high ranking in a competitive FPS game’s leaderboard.

He wanted a gunfight, Viers would give him a gunfight. This way, when the dust settled on the fight above, he would also get the accolades of saving Prince Croix from a Level 4 combatant and holding him back with a lower cultivation.

Viers liked achievements.

The rocky and misty arena they were in provided a suitable arena for a ‘counterstrike’.

I’ve been doing shootouts for a long time, bub. From WWII to Black Ops to Modern Warfare to 2077 to Mass Effect… Our history as gunners is just too different!

“Fire in the hole!” Viers shouted.

The blast cleared the rock and gave Viers line of sight to the gun guy. Bullets crossed.

“Oi! Using bombs is cheating!” The guy said after returning to cover.

“It’s tactics,” Viers shouted back while reloading his revolver. “Totally legit.”

He was using Little Friend. A gun created from the remnants of a dead otherworlder’s System; his first-ever firearm. Comparing the simple black revolver to modern guns or to futuristic weapons like railguns or pulse rifles, a six-shot revolver was downright ancient.

Should I… Naaah. I saw his gun. Might be a magic gun but its capabilities are similar to my revolver. This is enough.

Viers was also considering whether he should use bullets made from Level 4 souls, wondering if that would kill him. He might have gained some benefits from his corpse. The other side was aiming for fun and games but Viers didn't have to go along.

No. The other side’s ability is too unknown. I don't have to risk it.

Both men were using real bullets but supermen they were, the danger was the same as paintball. Viers went along with him. Both gun users maneuvered, aimed, and tried to hit each other. Sometimes extraordinary feats happened, such as they moved with superspeed or took a bullet to the forehead without bleeding.

Viers didn't know about the other side, but when he got shot, it hurt as hell.

“Hey masked guy, what should I call you?”

“We’re doing introductions now?”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Come now… We are both just doing our jobs, right? No need for hostilities after the blood spilled and the contract burned. We should do this again. Want to grab a drink later? I’m buying.”

Viers rolled his eyes, The other side realized it too so he hadn't turned this into a deathmatch.

The two had each other at gunpoint, finger on the trigger but didn't shoot.

“The battle above is ending. Congratulations. The prince lives. Your… kid?”

“Disciple,” Viers corrected.

“Yeah, him. He did good protecting the prince. We’re retreating now. I’m Death Gun Bennec. No one calls me that now but it'll not be the case for much longer. And you are?”

“...Avel. Ordinary traveler.”

“Hmm… Traveler you might be, but who are you fooling with the ordinary addition? You certainly don't act like one. See ya.”

The guy melted into his own shadow and just like that he was gone. It was no teleportation, only looked like one. Viers was familiar with the stealth Arte.

Death Gun Bennec… Lame naming sense aside, he’s correct.

Viers was doing his character setting wrong. He was using the identity Avel which might be compromised by the Dumuzin cult to make sure if he was targeted or not as he searched for Power Spots for healing Clarissa.

The mask he wore was to show the impression that ‘Avel’ didn't have the face-altering ability. Also, he was traveling with Boram. Most people that knew them were at the FPC and they had gone far. Besides the matter of the cult, if something happened in Latias, he had no problem discarding the Avel identity for good. It was a burner account in the first place.

Stolen story; please report.

Then he met a prince.

It was a coincidence that he didn't plan for. In front of Croix and Alfred, to appeal to them, he put on the setting of a mysterious and powerful character. Should he be doing things clandestinely in Latias unchained and unbeholden to anyone, or further improve Croix’s ‘quest chain’ with the potentially massive benefits? Viers admitted he hadn't made up his mind.

Enough thinking. First, Stormberg.

The play-battle was over and his role was fulfilled. Viers exhaled in relief, checked his outfit and satisfied it was dirty and torn enough. He was supposed to battle a Level 4 after all. Then he climbed out of the Floating Rock Chasm.

He was found by a knight of the Thunder Wing Knightly Order standing guard.

“Halt! Wait… you are-”

“Master! I was about to search for you. Thank goodness you’re okay,” Boram came running.

“You as well,” Viers said. “It’s done then? What happened?”

“After you pulled the Level 4 with you,” Alfred approached. “The Black Shield let go of pretenses and tried to abduct Prince Croix. They had a sleeper agent inside the Thunder Wing Knightly Order but he was thwarted. Boram stuck with the prince after you and I were gone and magnificently handled all enemies coming their way. The Thunder Wing outnumbered their enemies and as time went on, our advantage grew. The enemies retreated once it was no longer possible to take Prince Croix by force.”

“I see,” Viers saw Croix from afar, showing concern to the gryphon-rider lady who had a nasty arm injury but would survive.

“Twice now you both have saved Prince Croix from harm. I cannot thank you enough.”

“Please raise your head, Sir Alfred. We only do what is expected… So, safe to say Prince Croix’s older brother is the one behind the curtain?”

“I’m afraid so… After the wounded have been cared for, we’re going straight to Stormberg. There, we should be safe. I’m sure Countess Grace Weiss, Prince Croix’s regal aunt, will reward you two handsomely.”

“Safety and reward. Sounds good,” Viers smiled. “So what are the chances both sides actually want the prince killed?”

“Ahahaha! Don't joke about something like that. Haha!”

***

Stormberg was a peculiar city.

It was located on an island about fifty meters away from the nearest landmass, which also ended in a steep cliff. The island was at the same height as the cliff, seventy meters above sea level. It was as if the whole city was supported by a single pillar as wide as the city itself. Totally vertical, meant the pillar wasn't wider on the lower part, which looked like an architectural error. A stone bridge was the only land route in or out of the island. All year long, strong wind and rain fell in this place, that was why the place had the word storm in its name.

“Incredible,” Boram was agape.

“In this place, the amount of times you can see the sun directly in a year can be counted on one hand, and only for a few hours,” Thunder Wing’s Knight Captain Malika explained cordially.

What Viers took note of was the high mana concentration. Almost as high as Dia’s Biome.

“I know you’re happy, but behave, okay?” Viers whispered to the cloud elemental who became hyperactive inside him.

The whole place was a stronghold. A city fortress with a natural fortification. Because of the limited space, the buildings at Stormberg were densely packed. The image of Kowloon Walled City came to Viers’ mind.

From Malika’s explanation, it seemed most of the Stormberg’s residents were in the countess’ service. The people they passed by were Pathseekers in a twenty-to-one ratio, which made this a Pathseeker city. Those that couldn't live on the island lived in a sister city nearby on the mainland.

They eventually arrived at the Countess’ manor. A cold and tough-looking mansion; well decorated and guarded but the size was pretty small compared to the Regidana or Valkut ruler’s palace, just the size of a small hotel. On Earth, Viers had visited a restaurant bigger than this. Compared to the city they passed by earlier, the area in the mansion’s surroundings had a lot more open spaces.

“This is where I must leave you. The countess has been informed and is ready to receive you. Good day,” Malika bowed.

“We thank you for your service, Lady Malika. We have witnessed the Thunder Wing Knightly Order’s honor and bravery today.”

“Your words are too kind, Prince Croix. Please go ahead, don't keep the countess waiting.”

Malika took her leave and the party returned to their original number in front of the mansion’s opened front door.

“Well then, I believe this is also where I should leave you, Highness.”

“No. Please come along. I’d like to introduce my saviors to the countess.”

Croix insisted and Viers relented. As they crossed the door, Viers felt he was crossing some magical boundary. The watery droplets he had on his clothes were left outside and he was as dry as a bone. The same happened to all of them. A neat function considering how much rain this place had. The barrier wasn't only for drying visitors though; Viers would bet his dinner that it could have defensive functions as well.

Two silent knights walked to the group’s side, as if guiding them.

“Fuuh…” Croix tried to relax. “Shall we?”

Viers was quite nervous himself. The mana in this place was even higher than outside and Viridis. Mana from kilometers of an area must be focused here. From the mana levels, Viers could deduce the other party’s cultivation.

A Level 5.

There was a slight discomfort for a high Level Pathseeker in an area of too low ambient mana. The greater the disparity, the more pronounced it became. Not lethal or dangerous, but can be quite annoying, like an itch that wouldn't go away or dry throat. The concept wasn't new in power fantasy stories and Viers was familiar with it.

There was no red carpet rolling for the prince or any kind of special reception. The knights matched their pace and led them to another door. After they opened the door, they stood like statues without entering.

In the middle of the room, there was a carpeted grand staircase. The four stopped at its base. The few minutes of silence were deafening. They didn't talk, as the atmosphere in the room greatly discouraged talk.

The countess arrived as she deemed fit.

There was no announcement, just footsteps. The woman in a white dress with blue accents stepped down the stairs with the grace of a queen. Her hair was light blue, medium length, and curled. The adult woman’s face was beautiful yet cold. However, the most prominent of her being was the blizzard-temperature gaze from her sapphire eyes.

Although no Arte was in play here, Alfred and Boram kneeled as soon as she revealed herself, an act of instinct. Viers resisted the urge. Instead, he and Croix gave a deep bow. They did so in a way that was respectful but not subservient.

Countess Grace Weiss of Stormberg beheld the four men from a staircase seven steps higher than them.

“Countess Grace,” Croix said. “It gladdens my heart to see you well. I regret that it’s been years since we last met. If Mother was here, she would-”

“Nephew.”

That single word had the effect of a freezing Arte.

“You fled the Crimson Capital. Hunted and frightful, you then came to my door seeking shelter like a homeless pup. How banal… Don't you agree?”

The four were in a sub-zero degrees room with an ice queen.

She didn't sound happy.