Ebon Dirge watched the prince slide into meditation, placing a strand of his spiritual sense on the young man seated in the lotus position before withdrawing from the cave. With how depleted Erik was, it wasn't likely he'd call upon the "Godweapon Onyx" soon, but it paid to be cautious.
The devil chuckled as he thought about the ruse. The discarded hilt was the remnant of a higher quality weapon as a Mortal Realm cultivator might consider it, but it was nowhere near the level to do any of the tricks he had played.
The idea to take on the mantle of a so-called Godweapon was dug up from some of Dirge's experiences in the Immortal Realms. Such tools of training and support existed there, treasured heirlooms that behaved in a manner reminiscent of the constructs produced by the bizarre mechanists but still wholly magical. Such an item wouldn't normally exist on a mortal plane without having been sent down for one very good reason.
The construction required the soul of an expert who had crossed the Immortal Bridge.
To have an intelligent tool that was eternal, it required a soul that was just as eternal. Godweapons were special in that their refinement required the participation of an Immortal willing to perish in the process of their creation.
Such an idea was ludicrous to mortals but made more sense in the Immortal Realms. Unending life for its own sake became less attractive when one's lovers, friends, parents, siblings, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and so on all perished. Immortals could build a dynasty for their remote descendants, but the attachment and sentiments often dissolved alongside their continued interest in life.
For those who were tired of life but still clung to that final scrap of duty or sentiment, Godweapons represented the ability to surrender to oblivion while continuing to protect their heirs. Wealth could be spent, land could be lost, and inheritance realms could only last so long before the corrosion of time collapsed them. A Godweapon, though, could follow the line from heir to heir, a cornucopia of techniques and insight that could evade such vicissitudes.
Genuine Godweapons usually were bound to something like a bloodline or a particular affinity, of course. Just picking one up off the ground and dripping some blood on it to make a bond would be a daft move. Dirge had decided to provide the prince with a familiar method of bonding, and acquiring a bit of blood willingly given could come in handy one day.
The devil departed the cave, returning to the exit of the tunnel system where he and the prince had emerged. He had gleaned much from the surface thoughts and memories of his new charge, but he felt that some personal observation was in order. Something didn't quite add up about the entire situation.
Sure enough, a trio of men was there, searching for clues. Two of them were dressed in dirty peasant attire, while the third was a familiar face: the soldier who had rushed Erik to the tunnel exit, his armor now exchanged for dark clothing and a hood. Despite appearances, all three were experts at the cusp of Foundation Building.
"This ain't good," one of the dirty men said. "Lad shouldn't have run off too far, not in these woods. Why didn't you tell him to stay put 'til we got him, Joris?"
The man in black, Joris, shrugged. "The prince was already skittish enough. I couldn't risk marking him since one of those Sun or Moon bastards could've got him first, and I had to make sure nobody else followed. Since neither of you could mix in with the garrison and I couldn't be two places at once it's what we got. Besides, shouldn't you have been here waiting?"
The other dirty man coughed. "With all those soldiers crawling around nearby we didn't care to show up too early. There's no point trying to assign blame here. We need to find the lad and hope those others didn't beat us to it."
"They didn't," Joris shook his head in disagreement. "They're trying to treat this thing at arm's length so nobody knows how important it is. We don't even know which sect tried to arrange this whole deal. Making Eastmarch lose an entire border fort all to hide a kidnapping is the limit."
"Y'think Heaven's Net caught on and did a lil extractin' of their own?"
Joris snorted. "Impossible. They move around even less than Sun and Moon." He frowned and tapped his chin in thought. "If the prince woke up his affinity, he could be hiding without even knowing it. Dammit, we should've brought someone better at forest tracking."
"Like any of us are good for that, keepin' an eye on the cities as we do. We need to tell the Grandmaster and let him figure it out."
"Yes, although we should have the eyes in the capital look out," Joris agreed with a nod. "The prince should be running to tell his father and we'll need to intercept before he steps in it and we have a real problem."
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Dirge inwardly frowned as the men left to the northeast, away from where their quarry was. He had wanted to avoid disruptions to the intended order of things the prince was involved in, but he also wasn't going to force anything this early. There was now a tension to be resolved: should he try and yank events back, or should he remain in the role of an assistant and do whatever the prince desired?
Leaving the tunnel exit, the ancient devil spread out his spiritual sense to get an overview as he flew over to the fort. Several groups of soldiers were combing through the forest, but none were anywhere near the tunnel exit, let alone where the prince had ended up. All of those men were tied to the kingdom of Southmarch and had no inkling of any hidden hand guiding them.
Over at the fort, ownership had already changed hands and bodies were being cleaned up. None of those bodies were that of Sir Gared, nor was he among the living as prisoner or collaborator. He had vanished entirely, likely returned to his paymaster the Count.
Dirge decided not to pursue this line of inquiry any further. Whoever was behind the night's events had remained at arm's length, while the prince's would-be rescuers were far more disciplined than they appeared. The latter group were used to subterfuge and didn't throw around their thoughts unnecessarily, making a surface reading less informative than usual. A deeper dive would be needed, something he didn't wish to waste time away from the prince doing.
The devil's spirit returned to the newly hewn cultivation cave and examined his new project. As Joris noted, the prince did have an affinity that would help him hide if awoken, but the undercover operative might not have been aware quite how peculiar that affinity was. There were many directions for the prince to choose in advancing his cultivation, and it would be interesting to see what his choices were.
It wasn't too long before the prince's eyes shot open and he let out a muffled groan. "Oof, I need to get a real bed soon."
"Making a note to acquire appropriate materials," Dirge replied in the metallic tones of Onyx. "But first, you must determine your priorities, master."
Erik blinked away his remnant drowsiness, standing up and stretching. "What do you think I should do next, Onyx?"
Dirge sighed inwardly. "It is not this Godweapon's mission to dictate such things, master. If I may, however, I could interface with your recent memories and assist in calculating a course of action?"
"Oh. You can do that? Sure, I guess."
"Please close your eyes while the transfer takes place, master," Dirge instructed, and watched as the prince complied. There was no interfacing, as this was only an excuse to mask his knowledge of the events before they were formally introduced. A deeper reach into Erik's memories would take away too much time, so he would save that for later. "Transfer complete," he announced after waiting a couple moments.
Erik opened his eyes. "So, what options do you say I have available?"
"The first choice is to make preparations to depart to the royal capital to inform the King, as was specified by your rescuer during your escape," Dirge announced, first offering his charge a chance to push his course back where it was likely to have been going before their encounter.
The prince shook his head. "Absolutely not. You're good at the magic stuff, Onyx, but you'll want to leave the politics to me. The Count relinquishing his post as he did indicates he had the backing to shield him from the blowback when the fortress was lost. If I return, I could very well be the one taking the blame and being marked as a deserter. Then you'd need to find a new master."
"Noted," Dirge replied, actually a little impressed. The prince had already calculated the likely scenario with the information he had. That those other men would intercept him before he ended up in that situation wasn't something that could be shared, and so the option was removed from the table. "Leaving aside other moves that would expose you, it seems an increase in your personal ability may be in order before pursuing anything else, master?"
Erik nodded. "You made a really good place here for that, so it'd be a waste if I didn't take advantage of it, right? What are my options, Onyx?"
"Performing cultivation diagnostic," Dirge said, pausing a moment before delivering his verdict. "Current status: Meridian Opening is at 47 out of 81 meridians. Essence condensation is at gaseous state and has not begun. The current cultivation method does not seem optimal for your affinities. All of these can be improved together."
The prince let out a low whistle. "That's some good eyes you have there, Onyx. Wait... you said affinities. I was told mine were all too low to bother using a special method for."
"You were informed incorrectly, master. Your primary elemental affinities are indeed mediocre, but your affinities to Darkness and Lightning attributes are strong," Dirge announced. "I will adjust my training difficulty index to match a region without proper tools for secondary affinity measurement, although the possibility exists that you were intentionally deceived."
"That wouldn't be a surprise, Onyx," Erik replied, frowning in thought. "Darkness and Lightning, you say? Could you give me an idea what I can do with those?"
"Certainly, master. Darkness is the element most appropriate for concealment and multifarious methods. Darkness users are superior infiltrators and, on the battlefield, can confuse foes and obscure information while gathering it undetected. Lightning is the element most appropriate for speed and striking. Lightning is also exceptional at restraining ghosts and spirits. If you can master both together, you can become an adept assassin, striking at extreme speed and strength and making your escape undetected."
"I don't know that I would be patient enough to do all that sneaking," Erik admitted.
"That is but one possible course, master," Dirge amended. "For a battlefield scenario, it would be possible to become a swift juggernaut that can hamper an army single-handedly. Obscuring their vision, you could then strike at prime targets and let your own force clean up the rabble."
"That sounds more like it. I--" Erik's next words were drowned out by a gurgling in his stomach. "Oh, I guess I should look into something to eat. I forgot about that in all this."
"A hunting expedition is in order, master. This would be a perfect time to learn and practice the basics and acquire data on your current performance capabilities."
"Sure thing, Onyx," Erik said, hefting the hilt in his hand. "Let's get started then, shall we?"