While the Beast Realm was a gargantuan piece of land of incomprehensible size, with the System adding newly coalesced regions to it like bubbles floating up to the surface of water to appear around its edges, the Mystical Realm had a different structure. Rather than being a continuous area of land, the Mystical Realm had ‘planes’.
These planes were areas of land ranging from roughly the size of a small continent up to 5 times the surface area of Earth, which just floated in the void space surrounding them. These planes had their own atmospheres and environments and grouped like a cluster of grapes on a vine. Some could even see the planes surrounding them in the distance, although that was uncommon. These planes had spatial expansion phenomena occurring where you couldn’t mine through to the underside of these land masses, but if you were lucky enough to see them from a distance, you could view the reverse-mountain-like structure of the underside, with a relatively flat surface in comparison on top.
The gravity of these planes was such that you would fall into the empty void space below if you tried to walk on the underside of a plane, or even ‘off’ the edge of these planes. The planes were attracted towards other clusters of planes, and the ‘stronger’, or larger planes, attracted younger or smaller planes to themselves in turn. This was how the discovered part of the Mystical Realm slowly expanded, with newly found or newly formed ‘outer’ planes becoming attracted by the immense pull of the largest central plane yet discovered within the realm, moving towards it.
This, the ‘Aeternus’ plane, as it was called, was the original land of the Empire of Eternity, and was just larger than 5 times the surface area of Earth. It was the only Superior-ranked plane that had been discovered by the Empire and its citizens, and presumably the System. The Empire had existed long before its assimilation into the Tower – the Mystical Realm had been the fourth realm to be added - and had an extraordinarily rich and extensive history. It was also where one could find the stereotypical ‘Sword and Magic’ culture. It was a human-dominated empire, where one could find the most advanced supernatural technology of the Tower during this time.
The Empire didn’t just have human citizens though. They had long since conquered the non-human planes, and below the ‘Superior’ plane of Aeternus, were the ‘Great’ planes of the semi-independent lesser empires. They had roughly a quarter the size of the Aeternus plane and held many other fantastical races.
Glenheim, the home plane of the elves and fae, and the plane of the World Tree, the gate to the spirit realm.
Rocht’guardes, the dwarven stronghold of metal and stone.
Bastion, the mountainous plane of the giants and their royal race, the titans.
Atlantea, the flooded domain of the mermen and the Atlanteans.
The Wastelands, the abandoned land of the beastmen, the beast-blooded races without a bestial form.
And the Metal-borne Coalition, or just ‘Coalition’, the massive behemoth of machinery and magical engineering constructs, formed by the ‘working’ races of goblins, gnomes, the rare sentient golems, puppets and others, the craftsmen’s paradise.
All these lesser empires had been allowed to rule themselves, in return for their citizens becoming citizens subject to the laws of the Empire as well. Below the Great planes were the Major and then Minor planes.
The reason why Lucille was considering all this was because the city-state Gilded Dome plane was technically a Great plane. However, because of some distant battle in the past between several of the ‘great beings’ as they were called, it had shattered, most of it falling into the void space, and left only a single shard the size of a small continent to orbit the Aeternus plane.
The traces of the great beings’ devastating journeys through the material and even immaterial realms could still be found in the form of catastrophic void storms in the space between planes, a natural phenomenon only found in the Mystical Realm. The other realms had plenty of their own dangerous phenomena as well. The primal beasts and their equals weren’t exclusive to the Beast Realm. While a ‘shard’ of a Great plane was still the size of a minor continent, that was small for the residents of the Tower’s realms. Even if the entire Gilded Dome plane was a city.
And Lucy was currently navigating the ostentatiously ornamented streets and pathways of the Gilded Seat, the actual name for the plane’s city that the Headquarters was located within, and which was protected by the glistening golden magic array dome above her that earned the plane shard its name. While the technology of the Mystical Realm had not yet managed to arrive at the logistics to support a city with 80-story-high skyscrapers – although the All-Aeon Athenaeum’s Towers were close – The city was still a mesmerising sight for the average User. All the wide roads were paved using white marble, and the detailed lampposts were plated in a light layer of the yellow metal the Commission loved so much. As she walked, she could see whirring mana-circles casting spells atop tiled rooftops, and amazing magical artifacts shifting and moving behind the glass shop fronts of the fancy artificing stores.
Crowds of people walked along the roadsides, dressed in all kinds of fabulous clothing unique to the different planes and realms. Some were dressed in mage robes coloured to match their Athenaeum school of magic, staves in hand, some wore elegant gloves, smart suits, matching ascots and held canes in a style favoured by the nobility of the Empire, while some were dressed head to toe in intimidating armour, weapons strapped to their waists or backs.
She could also see the flamboyant silk drapery and brightly coloured leather outfits of the Beast Realm’s residents, and she thought she saw a few in the oriental Sect robes denoting their origins from the Heavenly Realm. There were occasionally some pedestrians who had the horns, wings or tattoos found on those with demonic heritage.
If you asked Lucy, the actual city gave her 19th-century vibes, minus the magic of course. They had even developed newspapers, indicated by the young boys shouting out headlines on the sidelines. It irked her they had gotten this far, yet the Mystical Realm still hadn’t developed trains yet. They were too wrapped up in their little internal wars and competitions to focus on development. The Coalition had gotten close before her return, but they were too prideful and restrictive about who they let use their technology to begin forming the logistical progress and supply chains that occurred on Earth in the industrial revolution.
Scytale was currently exploring the rooms on the fortieth story of the Headquarters, but she hadn’t come alone. No, Vincent Evisenhardt was trailing behind her, slightly to her left. The 27-year-old man with fluffy silver hair, silver eyes, and likewise silver half-moon glasses connected to a chain around his neck was picked, somewhat forcefully, by his new superior to come along. She knew she couldn’t go around alone anymore as the new Head of the Commission, so she selected the man to make the trip.
He was currently looking at her with a rather irritated expression. She pretended she couldn’t see it, but she had a full 360 degree vision with her spiritual perception, so his slip in emotional restraint was fully known by her. She found it rather amusing how willing he was to express his emotions when he thought she couldn’t see him. She whirled around to look at him, who started with a jolt and paused slightly, but she kept on moving backwards as she smiled at him, spreading her arms widely to gesture to their surroundings.
“Quaint city, is it not?”
Vincent frowned slightly, fixing his slipping silver glasses, and stared at her in bemusement.
“I hardly believe it can be called quaint when it occupies an entire plane.”
Well, that was true. Even the cities of the 7 Eternal Duchies struggled to reach a similar size to the Gilded Seat. The Gilded Dome plane was the gathering place of hopeful new entrepreneurs and businessmen, aiming to gain potential investors among the noble members of the Aurelian Commission. Quite a few had noticed Vincent’s silver hair and tried to attract his attention, who had been immensely annoyed by the whole affair and had begun walking at a very brisk pace. Lucy grinned and spun back around, hands behind her back as she walked.
“I suppose for someone like you who belongs to the main line of a County directly involved with its construction, this place may seem impressive and something worthy of pride. However, for me…” she said, gesturing to the impressive buildings and the traffic on either side of her, “This just screams of inefficiency.”
Lucille could see the man frowning a bit, before moving faster to catch up with her, who had been walking a tad speedier. “And what inefficiencies are these that even a young girl like you can see?”
He was suggesting that an 18-year-old girl had nowhere near enough life experience to make accurate judgments in comparison to the many well-learned organisers and planners of the city that had been involved in its making, but Lucy ignored that. He had read the notes she wrote on her ideas for the Commission and by extension, the city, so he was probably just checking they were all her own ideas, and that she wasn’t a puppet of some other Faction. She continued moving, making her way down a side street now and then.
“Well, before anything, the city’s transport System is atrocious. Whoever had the idea to place teleportation arrays right in the centre of the transport building, and just let everyone shove each other onto it until we’re all packed like sardines in a tin, should’ve been sent back to whence they came from and never employed again. Yet this city has hundreds of teleportation arrays just like it, making me believe that did not happen, unfortunately.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow behind her, keeping close so he wouldn’t get separated within the large crowd she was making her way through.
“The teleportation array was placed that way to make sure the maximum amount of potential could be accessed for the space it took up.”
“And yet,” she said, giving him a sideways look, “The arrays would’ve had much more utility for their district if they had all been placed evenly throughout the plane, instead of gathering the majority around the Headquarters’ central area, before slowly becoming fewer and fewer the closer we are to the edge of the plane.”
They turned a corner, Vincent grimacing at her response. “We had expected the richer districts to be oriented around the Headquarters, and so had to cater to their desire for easy access to them to continue gaining their favour, considering the Commission is a nobility-dominated Faction. It was unavoidable to maintain our strength.”
Lucy threw her hands up in exasperation. “Then just give the nobility their own teleportation system! It would be easy, and even profitable, to grant them teleportation arrays for their private usage, that were separated from the public array system. You could potentially charge them a premium price for it in return for quicker teleportation speeds and smoother transfers from the higher-quality arrays!”
She turned around to face him and put her hands on her hips. “This isn’t even some amazing idea that only I’ve ever come up with. I have a business background, but it could have been an idea that any random person you select off the streets came up with. And tell me, have you never, not once, in all your life as a member of the Commission, ever considered making changes to the teleportation system?”
Vincent opened his mouth, but closed it again, apparently having nothing to say. She turned back, shaking her head. “It’s all because nobody in the Commission would profit from doing this, isn’t it? Or at least in comparison to chasing deals with other Factions.”
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Vincent kept silent. They turned into another side road, and they could see that these buildings were slightly shorter and less flashy compared to the ones along the main road. Lucille continued moving, so Vincent had no choice but to follow her.
“And that is why the Faction needs restructuring. It needs clear divides between what is a responsibility as a member of the Faction, and what is a responsibility as a noble. This is what has locked off the Counties from accessing their ancestral inheritances, isn’t it. The Founder’s rules prevent them from using the inheritances without the Head’s permission.”
Vincent opened his mouth in shock, pausing his movement, before blinking and shaking his head wryly as he jogged to catch up with her. “I suppose the Total Faction Authority informed you of that.”
She looked back at him and nodded, before continuing to pass the now much sparser crowd. “Indeed. When I opened it for the first time, I was greeted by a thousand requests for inheritance access, sent by the different Counts over the years.” She scowled slightly at that. The ‘unread messages’ strain the System put on her soul then was incredibly irritating.
Vincent huffed a slight laugh, before speeding up to walk beside her. “So, what you’re trying to say is you know what you’re doing when it comes to this leadership thing?”
She gave him a flat look but sighed. “I suppose that was the gist of it, yes.”
They came out onto a new bustling street. On this one, the buildings only reached about 3 stories high, and quite a few looked like residences rather than stores. Lucy looked around and let out a small “Ah.” when she saw her objective and began walking towards it. Vincent noticed this and cocked an eyebrow as he shifted his glasses to get a better look at what she was heading towards.
“I thought you had come out this far just to explore, but would I be more correct in suggesting you intended to go to a specific place?”
Lucy nodded with a wide smile on her face, happy she had found the correct place. “Yes. As a matter of fact, this is the place I was trying to find.” She said, pointing with a gloved hand. She normally wore gloves, but she hadn’t gotten herself a pair until becoming the Faction Head.
Vincent followed her gaze before his expression twisted into a complicated mixture of bemusement, confusion, mild shock, disgust, and slight apprehension. “That,” he said, likewise pointing at where he thought she was gesturing to, “Is your objective?”
Standing before them was a two-story house. Unlike the two much nicer, pristine three-story buildings on either side, this house did not look like it belonged on the street. At all.
The building was sagging on one side in a way that would offend every single construction organisation’s sensibilities, and was made from wood so dark, they weren’t sure if it was from grime or natural colouration. The windows were haphazardly boarded up, and what little glass was visible was caked in dust and practically tinted black. The tiling on the roof was falling off, and they could see a hole on one side of the dark grey pointed roof that left it vulnerable to the outside elements. The gutters were loose on one side, the fixations incapable of stopping it from falling. There was a crooked dark-grey chimney leaking black smoke on top to complete the look.
The bottom story was a tad better, but only because the front windows weren’t fully boarded up. The glass was still so thickly smeared with dust it was impossible to see inside, and the doorstep also sagged in the centre. Lucy wasn’t sure it would hold anyone’s weight. The front door had a clunky brass plaque on it engraved with ‘P. T. F. Customised Accessories’ in bold letters. They gazed at the building in silent appreciation of its ‘aesthetics’ for a moment, before Vincent had no choice but to say something.
“This is your objective?!?” he said despairingly.
“You’ve said that already.” Lucy deadpanned, but he ignored her. He gestured with both of his arms to the decrepit abomination of a house, his glasses falling from his nose.
“You take me on a walk throughout some backstreet district of the city, after pulling me from my very rare break, saying you have something highly important to do, just so we could stand here admiring this violation of safety standards?!? And you say you’re going to be a good leader, allowing the Faction to enter a new era of prosperity!” he got out, going a bit wide-eyed towards the end. Lucille shook her head, and he relaxed slightly, but not before she could say her piece.
“Not just admire it outside. I plan on going inside too.” She added. A vein pulsed above one of his eyebrows. She marched onwards towards the door as Vincent opened his mouth to say something, but then she whirled around to stare at him with a serious look.
“I’d like you to remember that while I may be young, and have no issues being on friendly terms with you, I am still the new leader of your Faction, and soon to be an Honorary Count in my own right, who does not require listening to the demands of their subordinates.”
Vincent blinked, registering what she had said, and then took a step back, nodding solemnly and looking a bit embarrassed at his slip in emotions. It was rather unprofessional of him.
But Lucy made eye contact with him, and then her face split into a wide grin. “So, you acknowledge you’re my subordinate? Good. I have a lot more work in the future for you.”
Then she grabbed the brass doorknob in front of her and turned it, opening the door with a loud creak. Vincent realised he’d been had, and let out a long groan. It contained a slight bit of amusement though.
They stepped through the doorway, and both of them coughed as the door dislodged dust from above their heads, filling the room with shifting grey clouds. A flat-sounding bell rang out, and they briefly heard a dull thud above their heads combined with a muffled shout of some kind. Lucille placed a hand above her eyes, peering through the dusty clouds with curiosity, while Vincent took his glasses off to rub them with a handkerchief, removing any stray dirt kicked up by the room. The uneven floorboards creaked below them as Lucy headed to the front desk, while Vincent observed the grime-coated items on the sloping shelves at the side of the room, leaning down to inspect them with a sense of horrified fascination.
They turned when they heard loud stomping as a man came down a rickety spiral staircase, dusting off his apron and lifting his hair away from his face. Then he crossed his arms and gazed at them with a dark expression.
The man himself only looked like he was in his early twenties, but his expression said he was not pleased to have to deal with them. He had flat, long brown hair that was tied up in a low ponytail at the base of his neck, stray hair falling on either side of his face. His eyes were also brown and he was wearing a beige long-sleeved shirt rolled up to his elbows that looked like it could have been white at some point in time. His aforementioned apron was creamy linen on top of a leather lining, covered in mostly dark grey, but also other kinds of stains. His hands were calloused and also stained with what looked like black grease and a leather belt strung with pouches and tools was wrapped around his waist.
He scowled deeper when Lucy smiled brightly, holding out a hand for a handshake, while Vincent just observed their interaction with an unreadable expression.
“Hi. You’re Sedric Ferin, right?” Lucy said with a cheerful expression. ‘Sedric’ eyed her hand with ill-disguised suspicion. Lucy blinked, before smiling and taking off her right glove. She held out her uncovered hand for him again, flexing it a little for him to see.
“I’m not going to bind you into a contract that will sell your soul, no need to be scared.”
The man, clearly not appreciative of her joke, scowled deeper but cautiously took her hand and shook it, flinching back very quickly afterwards. He flexed his right hand with a weird expression on his face. “Why is your hand so cold?!”
Lucille raised an eyebrow as she replaced her glove. “I usually circulate mana within it to make my body temperature closer to normal, but I decided your attitude didn’t warrant such care.”
Vincent looked mildly startled by that strange fact, but Lucy waved a hand. “Regardless. I haven’t introduced myself yet.”
She gave a slight dip of her head, a hand placed in front of her. “Lucille Goldcroft. Just call me Lucy.”
The look on Sedric’s face showed he had no intentions of doing so, but he gave a slow nod. He narrowed his eyes.
“….why are you here? I don’t deal with your kind.”
She assumed the ‘your kind’ was referring to nobility. Lucy rapped a black-gloved hand against the front desk, with a bright smile on her face. “Well, that might change in the future, but that’s irrelevant. I’m here about the inheritance left behind by a certain relative of yours.”
Sedric frowned deeper, confusion clear on his face. “Does this look like a place belonging to someone with an inheritance of some kind?”
She smiled knowingly and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood. “I suppose inheritance is not the right word on this occasion. It would be more accurate to refer to it as a talent.”
Sedric looked even more confused. “What in the realms are you on about lady?”
Lucy blinked. It seemed the message wasn’t getting through to this particular person. She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. “Maybe I should say a profession?”
The man blinked. “I’m self-employed.”
Lucy sighed and tried again. “The thing your grandfather had.”
Sedric tilted his head to look at her with the most mocking and condescending face he could muster, crossing his arms. “He’s already dead.”
She straightened up to gaze flatly at him. “Sedric Ferin, I’m talking about your class.”
That got a reaction out of him. With his mouth forming the shape of a belated ‘oh’, he took a step back with a wary expression, getting into a defensive position. She even noticed he put a hand to his belt, like one of the tools there could help him fight them off.
Lucille just rolled her eyes as she held a hand to her forehead. “Does it appear like I’m heavily armed? Look, I have no intentions of doing anything to you. You’re not even Rank-2. You are virtually useless to me right now.”
The pony-tailed man paused his retreat, studying their expressions cautiously. When it seemed that Vincent’s bemusement and Lucy’s unamused expression and crossed arms meant she was telling the truth, he slowly straightened up. He didn’t come any closer though. “Then… what is it that you want?”
Lucy grinned but didn’t answer him straight away. She gave another glance around the room. “I intend to tell you soon, but for now, do you perhaps have somewhere else we could go? I think you might prefer to be in a more comfortable place while we talk.”
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Sedric Ferin watched the strange woman who introduced herself as ‘Lucille Goldcroft’ inspect his upstairs living room with a curious look on her face. He suppressed a twitch of his eyebrow but still scowled when she ran a gloved finger along his wall, rubbing her fingers to check for dust. She turned to look at him with an immensely irritating smile on her face.
“This is a lot nicer than downstairs. I think keeping your bottom story utterly inhospitable is an amazing way of avoiding others. Maybe I should try it sometime.” She said in a tone that made it impossible for him to determine if she was being sarcastic or not.
He stared at her as he lowered himself into his armchair. “Was that a compliment or an insult?”
She hummed as she sat down on the couch opposite him, a coffee table between them. She crossed her legs as she responded. “It was supposed to be a compliment. I do wish I could’ve used this method to deal with uninvited guests in the past.”
He shook his head, disbelieving. “This was given to me by my grandfather anyway. I’ve only had it for a year, so the mess isn’t mine.”
“I know.” She said. Then she gave him a wide grin while narrowing her eyes. “Just like I knew you were Sedric Ferin, and that you have a Legendary class.”
Sedric flinched and stared at her in apprehension. Lucille just smiled and didn’t say anything else. Eventually, he spoke up. “And you knew that how?”
She tapped a finger on her chin as she gazed to the side. “Hmm… perhaps I’ll tell you if we can reach an agreement. But allow a new Faction Head to have her secrets please.”
Sedric narrowed his eyes at her but then blinked as he realised what she said. “Sorry? A new Faction Head?” he asked, taken aback.
She nodded amicably. “Indeed. Only seven days ago, in fact.”
He scowled at her. “So, you become a new Guild Leader or similar, and the instant you do so, you try to get me to join your Guild? Is that how it goes?”
The mask-wearing woman cocked an eyebrow at him and shook her head. She reached into a brown bag tied to her belt and pulled out a circular purple object. She chucked it at him, and he hastily caught it. Sedric curiously turned the object in his hand and was then stunned when he saw the golden symbol of three coins engraved on the front.
“Not a Guild. I’m the new Head of the Aurelian Commission.”
He looked up in scepticism. “You’re joking.”
She shook her head. “I’m not.” She could see Sedric still didn’t believe her, so she expounded on her statement.
“That,” She said, pointing at what he could now see was a pocket watch, “Is my soulbound inheritance token. It gives me control over the Commission. It’s well known that the Faction has become suspiciously busy these last few days, isn’t it?”
Sedric frowned but grudgingly nodded. Everyone was worried some calamity had befallen the Commission. Said calamity was possibly this woman in front of him. It was still incredibly unlikely. The black-haired woman raised an eyebrow, pointing downstairs.
“And did you not notice what the hair colour of my partner was? Surely you know what silver hair represents in the Gilded Seat, as a resident of this city?”
Sedric opened, then closed his mouth. He did, as a matter of fact, know what silver represented within the city. Namely, one of the four founding County bloodlines, the Silver Evisenhardt family. The person opposite him grinned.
“You could even go downstairs and ask him. He’s the youngest grandson of the Count of Silver, Vincent Evisenhardt.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. If that was true, he was in a load of trouble. Deeep trouble. If it was any random Guild Leader from some backward world, Sedric would be fine to just pack up and run away. He had a few magic items left by his grandfather that could protect him. But, if she was the leader of a Faction as large as the Aurelian Commission, it would spell disaster for him to insult their ‘generosity’ that way, as it were.
Chavaret was responsible for the Commission’s mercenary army and were expert weapon craftsmen. They could be sent after him. Ravimoux had extraordinarily good intelligence agencies and assassin circles under their leadership, so he’d have to fear for his life each night. The Alichanteu owned vast sectors of land and buildings, so he would have to avoid any of their hotels and inns while on the run. And…. the Evisenhardt ran the banks. They could afford any bounty to be set on his head. He rubbed his face with his hands. He hadn’t had a good sleep last night, and so he was feeling far too mentally drained for this situation. Not that any day would be good for this situation.
He looked up at the woman and glared at her. “And so, what does the amazing Faction leader Miss Goldcroft want with a weakling accessory craftsman?”
The Goldcroft woman just smirked and leaned back after throwing a thick wad of paper on the table. “No need for flattery, or formality. You can call me Lucille or Lucy just fine.”
Sedric cautiously picked up the top white document and focused on what was written. He frowned deeper and deeper as he read through the golden text. It was exactly as he suspected. A contract that would place him into a lifetime of eternal servitude to the Faction, the situation his grandfather had spent most of his life trying to escape and lost all his strength and abilities to run away from.
It left him weakened and dying when he made his way to the Gilded Dome plane to buy an old decaying building that would hide him from his pursuers, protecting him within the neutral city-state. Sedric, his last blood relative and only grandson, was the one who cared for him to his last dying breath, and the one who gained his grandfather’s Legendary class as an inheritance. And the building, but that wasn’t anything to rejoice about. He slammed the documents down on the table in disgust.
His grandfather had taught him all the tricks used within magic contracts so he could avoid the same fate. In the third section of the second page of the contract, the enticing words that said the contracted would be ‘released from service when they have completed the item requested by the employer’. It sounded nice, but it just meant that the employer could keep finding issues with his item, postponing his release indefinitely. There was no way a big Faction like the Commission would be willing to see him leave when he had a Legendary class and had knowledge of all their crafting secrets.
And the next page had a clause about ‘unconditional support in resources and equipment for the crafter’. It didn’t mention it would require the crafter to be locked up in the equivalent of a cell for his life, forced to make items day in and day out. This whole contract was a farce. He looked up at the ‘Aurelian Commission leader’ with a dark expression.
“Did you really expect me to sign this?”