Chapter 84: Bonds of Duty and Deception

Sir Feng strode through the halls of the Kinneman house, his smile drawing the attention of the passing staff.

'If it weren’t necessary, I wouldn’t drag Marcus or Percy into this. But since we’re all attending the wedding together, they’ll just have to cope.'

He inquired a maid for directions and soon found himself outside Marcus's study. After a firm knock, he paused, waiting for a response before entering.

Sir Kinneman sat at his desk, poring over paperwork. Glancing up briefly, "you seem to be fine. I heard you were tearing through the house in a panic this morning."

"Ah, yes. Sorry about that. Apologize to your staff if I frightened them. I had to handle something, time-sensitive."

Marcus smiled briefly before returning to his papers. "I won't pry further. So, what brings you here in such a bright mood?"

Taking a seat across from Marcus, Darius dismissed his disguise, his elderly form shifting to his teen body. "The chat I had with my old friend was quite informative. But before we get into that, has there been any word from your men on the two leads?"

Marcus paused, setting his papers aside and locking eyes with Darius. "Both have come to a dead end. My men are still... tell me, why are you smiling?"

Excitedly, Darius recounted his meeting with Crelos. From their fiery first encounter in the alley to the plot to poison the bride, ending with his promise to help. His movements and expressions throughout were animated, making it seem like he was recounting childhood drama rather than a life-and-death situation.

"Absolutely not! Are you a fool or just an idiot? You're not only risking your own life, but you're also putting my house in jeopardy. I agreed to support you, but not on a fool's errand!" Marcus sat back, glaring at Darius, who grinned unabashedly before him.

"Now that you know an innocent woman might die on her wedding night, you plan to do nothing?" Darius challenged, feigning shame. "Doesn't your honor compel you to act?"

Marcus's eye twitched, his mustache bristling with irritation as he stared at the teen. "You...little..." he exhaled sharply, "Of course, it does! And I will act. I'll warn Akleman that there's a snake in his house. So no—"

"So you'll condemn Crelos to death instead of the bride?"

Seeing Marcus falter, Darius pressed his point, "The only way to save both Crelos and the woman is to crash the wedding. Everything has to appear like a coincidence."

"Even if we pull this off, what’s to stop Rainslif from trying again? And if we can’t warn them without implicating Crelos, what’s the point of taking this risk? You have time, do you really need that diamond so badly?"

Darius paused, his expression hardening. "Crelos's efforts to save me back then were foolish—but he risked his life for mine when he didn’t have to. This isn’t just about the diamond—I won’t deny wanting it—but it’s about repaying a debt. I'm committed to doing this, alone if necessary."

His intense gaze sent a shiver down Marcus's spine. 'Why did I let him in? I could have just ignored his knock.' With a sigh, Marcus leaned back and massaged his forehead. "I assume you already have a plan?"

Quickly regaining his broad smile, Darius leaned forward, "Something like that."

----

"How many Cauldrons of Force can you wield?"

"Three, boss!"

In the training hall where Marcus instructed Darius, Percy buzzed with excitement. Dressed in simple black trousers, his pale skin and average build were in sharp contrast to the teen opposite him.

"You mentioned reaching the peak of the second tier; shouldn’t you be at least at five?" Darius, shirtless, showcased a well-toned physique, his lightly tanned skin complementing his unkempt black hair.

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Percy's excitement waned a bit as he offered an awkward smile. "It's been a while since I've trained."

Shaking his head, Darius circled him and activated his Arcane Gaze. "Push your aura to its limit, without the gauntlets."

"Yes, boss!" Percy tensed, his brow furrowing as he clenched his fists and concentrated. 'Please don't laugh,' closing his eyes, his wispy green aura began to swirl, briefly extending a hand's width before settling back to a steady three fingers.

'His aura looks malnourished; he probably hasn't trained a day since returning to his father.' Darius observed the flickering runes vortexing within Percy's mana, his interest piqued momentarily, 'So, the runic language remains consistent across the first and second tiers.'

Percy, feeling the intensity of Darius's gaze, began to sweat, as if his very soul, including his deepest secrets, were laid bare.

"Marcus, could you come over here for a moment?"

Seated at the edge of the hall, Marcus appeared lost in thought until Darius's voice roused him. "Ah, yes. Right, right." His response was automatic, but his expression betrayed his distraction as he walked over to join them at the center of the hall.

"May I see your aura at its maximum, without your armor?"

Marcus, pulled from his reverie, showed a flash of irritation. "Anything else you need from me?"

"Just this for now."

Grimacing, Marcus rolled his eyes, and then, with a slight smirk, unleashed his aura. Flames burst forth, sending a hot blast of air directed at Darius.

Feeling the force, Darius's nostrils flared, his mouth forced agape, "aery achure!" Struggling to speak and stabilize himself.

Laughing, Marcus reined in his aura but pushed it to its limits. "Sorry, seems I'm getting a bit rusty."

Coughing from the hot air that singed his lungs, Darius clapped his chest, "Just for that, I'm not teaching you the Ethereal Steps."

Marcus's expression froze, and he quickly straightened up. "Sorry, boss!"

"Don't call me that; gives me the creeps. Now, stand still, or I'll only ever teach you the first step."

Seeing Marcus settle down, Darius scrutinized his aura more closely. His eyes widened in surprise. "Your aura is so much denser than Percy’s," he observed as he began to circle Marcus, speaking partly to himself. "The runes maintaining your aura have the same foundation, but the language is slightly different—probably to accommodate your different elemental affinity. There’s a greater variety of runes here, too." Pausing, he then asked, "Can you show me your gauntlets next?"

Percy watched in awe as his father obediently responded to Darius's commands, a sight he had never witnessed before. 'He must really want to learn those steps.'

Darius meticulously examined each piece of Marcus's armor—his Manaforged Gauntlets, vambraces, and sabatons glowed red, each piece radiating intense heat. "So the language remains the same; it's just the variety and density of the runes that change. Even though your spectral armor is manifested as leather, the underlying principles should align since you both train under the same systems."

After completing his examination, Darius stopped circling him and faced Marcus. "You can release your armor now." As Marcus dissipated his mana, the temperature in the hall dropped noticeably.

Turning to Percy, but still speaking to Marcus, "What would he normally need to do to ascend to the next tier? And I'll also need details on how a knight advances through the remaining tiers—be as thorough as possible."

Pausing, Percy and Marcus exchanged a look. Marcus appeared confused. "Your father didn’t tell you much about the Manaforged Knight System, did he?"

Darius bristled slightly at the mention of his father. "He taught me enough to pass my assessment. He always said I should learn the system from the strongholds, not from him. And after I failed, I focused on developing my own path..."

Noticing the change in Darius's demeanor, Marcus quickly softened his tone. "I only ask because knights learn the system in stages. Even I was taught only as far as my potential reached, so I only know the steps to become a steel knight, nothing beyond that."

"Just tell me what you know for now, and I can figure out the rest once I make a breakthrough."

"That won't work either, boss," Percy interjected, wincing as he spoke. "Each element has its own path of ascension, so what father knows wouldn't apply to me."

Rubbing his temples, Darius sighed, 'This is giving me a headache.'

"So, essentially, for you to advance, I'll need to find another knight who's willing to talk, or one I can persuade to talk."

"Or, you could just ask if I know someone willing to help," Marcus chuckled. "You don't always have to resort to force to get what you want."

Darius waved him off and grabbed Percy, starting to walk away. "Then handle it, will you? I can’t do everything around here. Now, let’s get you started; your vacation ends now, and..."

Marcus squinted, then let out a laugh as he watched Darius begin to lecture Percy. 'Take every second, son, this is your chance, don’t waste it.' With a smile, he walked out of the training hall, the sound of Percy’s pained yelp echoing behind him as he closed the door.

----

Later that evening, as Percy's grunts and pants filled the air around Kinneman Manor, Sir Feng and Sir Kinneman stepped out into the bustling city streets.

"Thank you for joining me, you seemed a bit taken aback when I first asked, so I was surprised when you agreed."

As they walked, Darius calmly stroked his beard, scanning the crowd. "It’s just that we never had slaves back home. I'm not even sure if that was a choice or we simply didn't need them. So, the invitation to a slave market threw me off a bit, that's all."

Marcus chuckled and smiled. "Then this will be a first for you. Pay close attention—you need to learn how not to get swindled. The slave markets are teeming with elder races willing to sell their own mothers for a profit."

Darius sighed internally, 'I forget how this world is sometimes. I shouldn't judge them; their way of thinking is inherited or built over a lifetime of affirmation. What is justice to one is often evil to another.'

As they walked, Marcus continued to offer advice, his familiarity with the slave markets evident. He shared tips ranging from how to haggle effectively to identifying a sick slave who has been made to look healthy. He also explained how to recognize an elf nearing the end of their life, as they only begin to visibly age just before death—a common deceit in these markets.

"So once we get there, observe how I handle the first purchase, then you'll take the lead on the next one."

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"Since the discovery of the mythril vein, I'm primarily on the lookout for dwarves. But given their scarcity, we'll likely focus on werefolk with strong animal bloodlines," Marcus explained.

As they continued, Darius detected a change in the environment; his nose twitching as his brow furrowed. 'This area reeks of blood.'

As they neared the slave markets, he noticed the streets began to change. The presence of free-roaming elder races dwindled, replaced increasingly by humans.

Marcus led the way to a large open market along the riverside, its entrance marked by a sturdy wall that separated the chaotic commerce from the street. The gate was guarded by tier 3 iron knights, their blue and yellow auras casting a vibrant glow in the night.

Just as they stepped past the threshold, a shrill, rusty voice called out from behind them. "Marcus, is that you?! And accompanying the illustrious Sir Feng, what a treat!"

Frowning briefly before turning around, Marcus's expression transformed into a bright smile. "Old man Hershel! What brings you out here tonight?"