The City of Alva, Alvric Territory, South of Vorthe.

The streets of Alva were a mess. The dirt and smell suffocated Rihal as he roamed around. Alvric called this place a city? With all the grime blackening the streets and walls? This was no city, it was a dump. A dump for human waste.

The streets weren’t wide enough for horse-drawn carriages. Only four wide roads existed in the city, and even those could not compare to the least in Farryn. And because the streets weren’t wide enough. Sedan chairs were everywhere, many of them on wheels. It was a booming business of sorts. Many barefooted slaves hung around different junctions, waving down freedmen to use their sedans. Rihal shook his head as he took in the scene around him.

Slaves were everywhere. They were the lifeblood of the city. These non-sacred artists — or mortals as they were called in Vorthe — were in every household, on the streets, and in the markets to do their masters’ bidding. They did the menial jobs, the jobs sacred artists deigned as beneath them. Yet they numbered the freedmen fifty to one. And the nobles? Perhaps a hundred to one.

Vorthe frowned on slavery. It was unproductive for a nation. They had long proven that slavery moved civilization backward. But they held no sway over the actions and decisions or policies of he Great Clans.

The Itakars stopped slavery when Vorthe came into power, as did the Baelors. The Feis never had any slaves when they migrated from the East. Alvric was the only clan amongst the Great Clans to continue the old practice. Vorthe allowed it to give them a semblance of choice. However, laws were put in place to stop ‘the occupation’ in Vorthe, and neither could they capture Vortheans. But they did it anyway, as covertly as they could. Most times, the Royal Family turned a blind eye.

Alvric deemed it honorable and noble to own men. Why wouldn’t they? Power was everything in this world. To the strong go the spoils of war, and to the competent goes leadership. Leadership that they conflate slave mastery it seemed.

Freedom was too costly if you had not the power to protect and preserve it. What use was freedom if all it brought you was an endless struggle to protect it? Rihal had even heard that some sold themselves into slavery to save themselves from having to fight to keep their freedom. Such people had a higher status than other slaves that were sold or captured.

“May the wind prosper your day, noble one,” a slave walked up to Rihal and greeted him. His blackened feet, dirty from the lack of washing probably for many days, were all Rihal could focus on at first. How did people live like that?

“And may your feet guide you to places of good fortune,” he answered back in the proper way of the people living here. “How may I help you?”

The man was taken aback by his words. “No-not at all, noble one. This lowly one offers his assistance to the noble one.”

Ah, I have to watch what I say, Rihal thought. The man’s expression just now showed that his question was unexpected. Better yet, that wasn’t a question you asked a slave. And perhaps he shouldn’t have greeted back. Rihal was dressed as a 3rd-tier citizen, like those from lesser noble families in Vorthe. He was sure the system should be the same here, or at least he thought it should be.

“I need no help at this moment, th—” he almost said ‘thank you’ but held his tongue.

The man bowed low again and again. “Please, forgive this lowly one for assuming.” If he continued bobbing his head along with his body he may injure himself.

“You speak quite well for a slave. What are you called?” Rihal asked.

A beautifully decorated sedan carried by four burly men passed by them at that moment and Rihal decided to leave the side of the road, eyeing the sedan as it went ahead. Not long now. The noble he’d been tailing for quite a while was almost within his grasp. Only nobles were afforded such comfort in Alva. Any other personality would attract the attention of the so-called Alvric Royalty.

“This one is called Lulu.”

“And who do you serve, Lulu?”

Lulu looked away, smiling bitterly. Well, then, that meant he had a master but was looking to earn a quick cut — the currency amongst mortals in most parts of Vorthe. It was different from the crystal coins sacred artists used as a means of exchange, not because they used different monetary systems, but mortals couldn’t earn stone crystals except they were especially wealthy — still, it was useless to them.

Most sacred artists carry only crystal coins on them as well because they have no need for cuts. Cuts — copper, silver, and gold coins that were of lesser exchange values than stone crystals. Gold and silver might be useful in large ingots but were still less valuable than stone crystals.

Farryn barely, if at all, had any cuts in her coffers, ingots though were a different matter. Transactions were done with crystals coins, both inside and outside the city. That showed the level of wealth compared to other cities in Vorthe.

Rihal turned back to the man in question. This man, Lulu, might just be here on the orders of his master to fleece innocent strangers who came to Alva for the first time.

“This one serves no master, noble one.”

“Really, you expect me to believe that?” Rihal glared at him, making sure not to reveal his aura. Even a little of it can put the slave in a precarious situation and Rihal was not ready to deal with the master of any slave right now. He was undercover after all.

“This one speaks the truth, noble one,” the slave panicked, and began to tremble violently. “This one has never served a master. Though this one has no true name and is not a sacred artist, this one has lived his entire life freely.”

“And how many freedmen dress like you, hmm?” Rihal said, looking him up and down to pass his point across.

Lulu bowed low again. “This one begs the forgiveness of the noble one if this one offends with his appearance. Not many freedmen can afford good clothes, noble one.”

His use of the common tongue struck Rihal as strange once again. He was very educated, too educated to be looking for work on the streets of Alva. Vorthe would have picked him up a long time ago and put him to good use. Something Rihal was considering doing as well. But maybe he was a hypocrite for saying that. There were lots of others like him in the slums of Farryn that weren’t put to good use. The slums itself was a way to control the upbringing of the fated Dark One, so Vorthe had that excuse — a shitty one nonetheless.

He stared at the man for a long time. Weighing his decision. This wasn’t something an oath on an aspect of nature could not fix. But he still wanted to be careful. If someone had sent this…Lulu, they must have put it all into consideration.

“Swear to me that you have no master at this moment, and that no words of mine would be repeated elsewhere, whether by tongue or writing or gestures,” Rihal demanded, making sure there were no loopholes in the oath.

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The man swore, as clearly as he could, for his voice was trembling. He sensed Lulu shiver and stumbled forward. He nodded lightly, catching the mortal before he hit the floor. The oath had taken effect. Rihal took out two silver cuts and began flipping them with his fingers, attracting the man’s gaze.

Yes. Money was everything around here — well, almost everything. At least it could buy the loyalty of people who were left to rot in a city that didn’t care for their well-being.

“Tell me, Lulu. What do you know about Lord Eskan Alvric? Don’t skip a thing. These will be yours if you please me.” he dangled the cuts in front of the man’s eyes.

~~~

Terra Praeta. The Northern Hemisphere.

“Thought ye said it’ll hold, Jerome,” Nia complained as they fought against the few unbound that remained.

With the help of the barrier, they had reduced their numbers to five, including one very massive unbound Jerome was sure was the alpha of the pack. The alpha, however, had broken the barrier with its raw strength.

The weight of its presence was nothing to scoff at. The other unbound stood fifteen feet tall but this one was twenty feet of raw muscle and power. And it attacked with fury.

“Never said it would hold forever,” Jerome said as he parried its claws with his spear.

The alpha unbound was strong and fast, but Jerome had come prepared. With his suit of armor covering his entire body, he was able to go toe-to-toe with the powerful alpha. They both displayed the true strength of powerful beings fighting ferociously.

Jerome tracked Csala with his perception as he fought. The succubus was holding her own against an unbound, all by herself. Csala was quick on her feet and her strength was far beyond what she had used against Jerome in Sanctum.

Within minutes, she shattered the knees of the unbound she was fighting to keep it in place. She then moved to behead it without hesitation. Ruthless and effective. Jerome found that he loved it.

Csala moved aside to dodge the claws of another unbound. Her movements were so fast it would’ve been hard to follow with the naked eye. But Jerome was using his senses, so everything going on in the cave was clear to him.

The alpha scored a hit on him, scratching at his armor but was unable to break the surface. Instead, its claws cracked and chipped off. It roared in anger, causing the rest of the Sprouts to hold their ears as the cave vibrated violently for a few breaths.

Jerome chuckled and attacked with renewed fury, not at all affected. He stabbed at the alpha, scoring multiple hits and drawing blood. The unbound’s vitality was continuously seeping into Charybdis without its knowledge. But it had great stores of vitality and essence — something that surprised him. It would take a long time for it to realize that something was amiss and even longer for it to get depleted.

“Jerome,” Selene called out. ”Would you mind finishing off that thing and helping us here? I can hear you chuckling. So I believe that beast…unbound, whatever, is not a challenge to you.”

“You mean this big ‘baddie’, Selene? This is the one that ought to die last.” At least that was how it happened in movies.

”Jerome?!” Csala growled, staring daggers at him but quickly jumped out of the way of more claws. The unbound that clawed at her rammed into her and pushed her backward, but she flipped midair and pushed off a pillar. The cur didn’t expect it. She sliced off its eyebrows, or where a set should have been. A dog-like whine split the air. The unbound took a few steps back unsure whether to attack now that it had witnessed her strength.

“Fine,” Jerome said and quickly started pressing the alpha. The tune of their dance changed and so did the eyes of the big bad unbound. It was beginning to realize that it was never a match for the little being in front of it.

Jerome moved faster. He only relied on his spear, Charybdis, as he wanted a challenge — one he knew he had complete control over. Perhaps fighting Muna had rubbed him wrongly and he now relished a fight with someone who was his equal or slightly below him in strength.

It was a great confidence booster. Fighting with Muna reminded him that he still had a long way to go, that he was still too weak, even with a modified body. It didn’t weaken his resolve, it strengthened it actually, and fighting this big bad wolfie solidified his conviction that he had improved a lot in his strength.

Jerome quickly made short work of the unbound, impaling him on Charybdis, and grinning from ear to ear as he did. Defeating it was a lot easier than he expected. He spun around and quickly reached out with his hands in a grasping motion and all remaining three unbound were pulled toward him. Their heads were severed before they even reached him.

“Sorry,” he said, seeing the shocked look on everyone’s faces, including Csala — whose pretty face had now been revealed. “My excitement got the better of me.”

“You killed three of them…” Ajax said in amazement.

“...in less than a breath?” Trudhorn completed Ajax’s words, stupified himself.

The ground was littered with corpses of unbound, their blood flowed into streams and poured out of the cave. The Itakars’ sacred beasts were already chomping on the dead unbound, wanting to make sure they consumed as much of the essence in their meat. This was a good chance for them to advance.

Jerome walked up to the alpha. Its body had gone cold already, Charybdis had made sure to sap every bit of essence from its bones. Jerome had instructed it to leave its core intact though. He ripped into the beast’s tough hide, which wasn’t so tough now that it was dead. There was no essence to make it nigh indestructible anymore.

Jerome pulled out a dense core of essence covered in blood. With a little psychic energy, he cleaned it thoroughly.

“Now, would you look at that,” Selene said.

“Yea. It’s at least at the level of power of a Spirit Realm artist,” Jerome confirmed. The white core in his hand had black stripes around it and was giving off intense energy.

Csala coughed, reminding Jerome of who was still after them.

“Aren’t you guys gonna take their cores? We have to go,” he said.

The Itakars glanced at him uncomfortably and Jerome tilted his head, flummoxed.

“To the strong go the spoils,” Selene bailed him out of the uncomfortable silence.

“And to the competent goes leadership,” Ajax completed.

“Ah,” he suddenly remembered, just like Lang of the Fei clan, they deferred to him now. The Itakars were still unsure of how he would react. “I don’t mind. Truly. Like I said before, I’m still the same me.”

Nobody moved to take anything. It was going to take a while to change their minds about him it seems.

“Ok, why don’t I keep this one,” he held up the core in his hand, “and the ones in the cave. The ones outside belong to you all.”

Selene was the first to reach for the nearest unbound and ripped into it, pulling out a core. It was less dense than the one in Jerome’s hand but would still be worth a lot in Farryn. The rest of the Itakars reached for the remaining ones as well.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” Achilles announced loudly in Jerome’s head causing him to wince. “I, the mighty Achilles have returned. I return victorious. For you, my charge, need not fear the wrath of the puny succubus anymore.”

Really?

Achilles didn’t answer but flooded his mind with a recording of their fight. Achilles had gone full night fury on the succubus, destroying her body and soul with the Hezvar. He had kept her trapped in the mountain where they had slept to regain their strength and bombarded her with fire from the heavens. He watched it in his minds eye, seeing the might of the Hezvar. It was truly terrifying.

“And it will be even more so in your hands, Xerae.”

Everyone caught Jerome wince and hesitated to join Selene. In fact, they subtly edged toward her as if to protect her. Selene remained in her position, however, undisturbed as if choosing to trust that Jerome wasn’t going to do anything to her.

Jerome caught that but could only sigh. I guess time apart would do this to friends, he thought.

Jerome looked over at Csala and grinned. “Our problem has been dealt with it seems.”