Viers left Boram in the inn to cultivate as he went about his business. He wore different clothes today, even exchanged his easy-to-remember helmet and sword for other things. He still wore a face mask and sword as he went outside though.

Dusk had just passed, it was the time when taverns and pubs were having happy hours. People that wanted to drown in their sorrows with alcohol, those that wanted to celebrate, and many in between.

Viers picked a tavern in the lower middle-class area since he had a better bet of finding his contact there. The Troll’s Brew was packed with customers, there was a band playing a merry jig and a particular group of people that were laughing very loud. On the sidewall, Viers saw three men playing darts, only that they used forks and the target was just above a tied man’s head. He wasn't there willingly by the look of his face.

Most of them were humans but he saw some of the other races too. Two dwarves and five beastfolks.

“Welcome to the hive of-”

“Yes yes, the hive of scum and villainy. Stop saying that.” Clarissa countered him in his head.

His entrance wasn't unnoticed by the customers but Viers paid it no mind and strolled right in.

“Welcome to Troll’s Brew, whatcha want?” The fittingly troll-like barkeep said.

“A glass of something non-alcoholic, cold. Your recommendation is fine.”

“A’right,” the troll whipped something up. His hands were big but surprisingly dexterous.

“Let me borrow two empty mugs,” Viers gave a few copper coins to pay for the drink and a little extra.

Viers took his drink and extra mugs to an empty table. A bit to the side of the tavern but visible enough. Viers pulled out a few fruits from his backpack and arranged the fruits and the mugs on the table in a specific order.

The bait and hook were set, the line was cast. Viers would now wait to see if the fish would bite.

He took note of the tavern’s visitors. The Pathseeker and Idler’s ratio reflected the real world. From 100 people, there would be around 50 born with affinity but 20 of them would only reach Level 0, the bottom rank Pathseekers, mostly because their affinity wasn’t high enough. Another 20 would be the mediocre ones, ranging from Level 1s and 2s, they might get lucky and reach Level 3. As for the remaining 10, they were the elites with the potential of reaching Level 4 and 5 but whether they really reached that cultivation height was another matter altogether.

Every Pathseeker’s Path of Power was filled with corpses.

In the tavern, there were one or two Level 3s with the Level 0s and Idlers in the majority. Viers’ Level 2 standing placed him at the stronger side of things.

This is a city, there must be many more Level 3s and 4s, perhaps even a couple of 5s but they should be in the central district. It is a xianxia law that powerhouses don’t mix well with their lessers.

“So girls, what are the odds there’s someone from the Cult of Dumuzin in this rabble?” Viers conversed telepathically.

“Fifty-fifty, Lord Viers. All the seven devil cults maintained some sort of presence in every city in the Coalition. It is only a matter of which cult stands a head and shoulders above the others in that city,” Farley explained.

“If there’s no one approaching us tonight?” Paina asked.

“My suggestion is we wait for two hours before moving on to another tavern and try our luck there. I’m sorry for wasting your time Lord Viers, but I don't have any other way of contacting them.”

“Can't be helped I guess,” Viers felt many eyes on him. They might be assessing if he was an easy mark to bully or not.

He was alone and extorting the weak was very common in Marakkus. But Viers had the aura of a Level 2. He didn't flaunt it but he didn't keep it hidden either. Since his cover was already blown. He might as well be showing a little muscle in an area rife with conflict. He didn't want every small fry courting death to bother him.

“My, my. We’re in luck it seems.”

A man in his thirties –a Level 1– approached Viers with one hand on his back and carrying his mug in a specific way, another part of the code that Farley told him. It was a sign of informing the call setter that he was here to help.

“Howdy stranger. Haven't seen you here before. Where are you from?” The man asked with a husky voice.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“Hello there. I’m from the south, where the birds sing every morning and night.”

“Ah, the south. How’s the weather there?”

“The usual. Sunny with a chance of clouds and troubles.”

Viers dipped his finger on the beverage and drew a specific pattern on the table with it.

The secret code exchange was concluded. The man seemed satisfied. He sat in a more relaxed manner but kept his guard up, against Viers and the rest of the tavern.

“You can call me Jix, brother. What do you want to know?” He talked softly.

“I’m Tanael,” Viers replied. “Anything big is currently going on in this city? Any special news?”

“The top dog in the city, the Y group is behaving strangely. They might be up to something big.”

“Y group should be the Cult of Yasterah, Lord Viers. Their members don't call themselves that but the Blood Church. They have the ambition to replace the Estellian Church,” Farley informed Viers.

“What are they up to?” Viers opened his mouth.

“We don't know yet at the moment. They do it in such a clandestine manner. Their activities are in the central district though, where the city big shots reside and mingle. What we do know is that they’re bolstering their forces in the city,” Jix said. He had no intention of withholding intel.

“I see… I seek someone that can break locks on storage rings. Preferably this someone can keep a secret.”

Jix made a difficult face and that was all Viers needed to know that his business at Marakkus city was about to go awry.

“Actually, enchanters have started to go missing or have shown up dead, even in their own house. It started this week and four enchanters have already been implicated. Two dead and two missing. This news is not public yet.”

“Hmph,” Viers scoffed. “This must be the Y’s doing.”

“What makes you think so, brother? Do you have a mission concerning them?”

Jix assumed Viers was a Dumuzin cultist from another cell here on a mission. It wasn't uncommon, there were many cases where other cultists that worshiped the same devil were sent out to other towns and cities on a mission. The local cell was instructed to cooperate by the higher-ups.

“I have my sources. Unfortunately, I can't divulge you in this manner. Just keep an eye on them.”

With the enchanters being targeted, it seemed less and less likely he would be able to find a suitable person to break the locking enchantment on the storage rings. His plan had hit another snag.

Then again, can I really trust a stranger to handle the rings? So be it. Time to take matters into my own hands.

Viers –using yet another fake name– was formulating a plan.

“Very well. I need info about how to heal an injured soul.”

“…Soul, brother? That’s a tricky one.”

Viers asked this for Gwen, Farley’s sister. Viers could heal minor and superficial soul injury thanks to his soul mastery but he couldn’t do anything about Gwen’s condition. If he was a Level 5 Pathseeker he might be able to heal her by sheer force but since he lacked the power, it might be better to find another way.

‘Sides, if I don’t show some effort, Farley’s loyalty meter might drop.

“Nothing comes to mind. I know high-level Pathseeker’s cultivation touches the matter of soul but I don’t know much since it’s too early for me.”

“So he says, sorry Farley,” Viers thought.

“It’s okay. Thank you for the concern, Lord Viers.”

Viers asked a few other matters, mostly about the movement in the city’s underworld: gossip, rumors, dangerous people to avoid, and other things. The man known as Jix was very helpful in filling Viers in. After a while, Viers felt it was enough.

“One last thing, the enchanters that died, tell me their identities and do you know where they’re buried?”

“Hm, one was Level 2 and the other was Level 3. I don’t know where they’re buried but it’s pretty simple to deduce. The city has three gravesites. One is for those with money and status, one for the middle class, and the last is for the dregs, the poor, and the leftovers. The Level 3 enchanter is quite wealthy and famous, he should be in the nicest gravesite, as for the other one, I don’t know him so he might be a traveler. That guy would be thrown to the third gravesite, outside the city.”

Viers was satisfied with Jix’s information.

“You’ve been very helpful,” Viers slid him a gold coin under the table and rose up. “Keep the news of my coming a secret. My mission is highly sensitive and just like we have spies on the other six, they have spies in our camp.”

“Farewell brother, good hunting,” Jix dipped his head.

Viers left the Troll’s Brew without drinking any of his beverages.

Oh? It’s quite misty tonight. How unusual.

Viers walked back to the Bird Nest inn through the main road. There was some illumination from mana crystal-powered street lamps that glowed with warm orange light. The misty night made Viers feel like he was walking the streets of London from a couple of centuries past.

It was night but not dead in the night, there were many other people walking the streets. Vendors still displaying their wares, food stalls offering discount prices for their remaining goods, quite a few carriages pulled by horse passed by.

Hey, the mist is getting thicker. Bad weather?

It was starting to impede his sight and a slight worry crept in.

When the people gradually vanished after twenty more steps, Viers’ readiness condition went to DEFCON 1.

Somehow, he was alone in the middle of the city street and the only existing sound was his footsteps.

No, there were other footsteps coming from the mist cloud in front of him.

Viers unsheathed his sword, not his katana since he used different equipment for his rendezvous with Farley’s old cult.

A cloaked man with a white mask leisurely walked towards him.

The man was overflowing with fighting intent and his Level 3 aura was unhidden.