He gazed at her with an unreadable expression. “You’re definitely not 18.”
She smirked and rested her chin on a hand. “Technically my body is, but the age of my soul, the length of time I consider myself ‘alive’ for?”
She grinned widely. “Much older.”
Count Chavaret scratched his chin, staring down at the ground in thought. “Older than a hundred, but less than half a thousand… I’d place you at two centuries…. wait.” He looked up. “Two centuries and a half.”
“249 years to be exact.” She nodded. “I believe that is old enough to be considered an equal?” she said to them, smirking.
Count Ravimoux frowned at the table. “And I’m 29. Does that make me the youngest again?” Then he looked up and cocked an eyebrow at her. “But there’s a problem. My Inspection skill says you’re only 18. And I am quite confident in my information skills.”
She hummed, then leaned back in her chair, legs crossed. “Trade secret?” she responded.
He narrowed his eyes but said nothing else. Reincarnation and possession were not unknown concepts for the residents of the Tower realms, but the System only allowed it in very rare circumstances. If the System had allowed it for her, then she wasn’t about to go telling anyone why. But she hadn’t reincarnated or through possession, and unless she showed them her Title, they wouldn’t believe her.
She noticed Vincent was looking at her with a troubled expression. She gave him a smile, but he only blinked, still lost in thought, so she shrugged and looked around. Artair looked at her and then shivered.
“Her being much older than she looks matches up with what I felt when that pressure was felt. I got this strange sensation of… omniscience emanating from you and had the feeling like I was sitting before some incomprehensible creature.” He said, looking pale.
Lucille nodded. “When you feel the thousands of sensations I’ve received over the years, it’s hard for someone with little spiritual energy to comprehend the situation. It’s why the ‘immortals’ go to great lengths to ensure their presence doesn’t affect the weaker cultivators. Some get soul damage just from the sensation.”
She turned to Count Chavaret with narrowed eyes. “So, do you feel confident enough to have me as your leader?”
He scarred man watched her silently for a moment, before crossing his arms and slowly nodding. “You’re not young, or weak. I can’t complain.”
She smiled and leaned back. “Then I guess that’s settled then. I have a few plans for each of the individual Counties I’d like to show you to, so there’s still plenty more to discuss.”
“But before that…” Spoke up Count Evisenhardt. “I’d prefer if we could go over this… ‘umbrella company’ concept and these subsidiary businesses.”
“Ah, and I’d like to know more about this public transport system you’ve suggested.” Said Artair.
Count Ravimoux and Count Chavaret both nodded in agreement. Lucille narrowed her eyes and grinned like a cat that had caught its prey.
“Well, let’s discuss these topics further then.”
----------------------------------------
A while later, Sevastian and Vincent Evisenhardt walked down one of the long corridors of the Headquarters, their footsteps being the only sound heard in the white-walled area. Count Sevastian Evisenhardt slowed his steps, and his grandson sped up to walk beside him. The goatee wearing man turned to Vincent and narrowed his eyes.
“I’m unimpressed. Very unimpressed, Vincent. You have not dealt with this well.”
Vincent remained silent as his grandfather sighed and shook his head. “Have a guess at why I believe you have not done well.”
Vincent shifted his glasses and stared at the carpeted ground, frowning. “Because I didn’t tell you about the offer of becoming her aide?”
The Evisenhardt Count scoffed and gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “I don’t care about that. I assume you didn’t inform me so you wouldn’t lose what good rapport you had built with her. I would’ve done the same in your situation. No, it’s because of another reason.”
He turned to gaze at Vincent with stern eyes. “Have you already rejected her offer?”
Vincent shook his head. “I only asked to wait until after the meeting to answer her.”
The older man gave a firm nod of his head. “Good, at least you have that much sense in you. Before the meeting, did you have plans of accepting?”
Vincent hesitated but nodded under his grandfather’s narrowed gaze. The shorter man then made eye contact with Vincent and put a hand on his shoulder. “What about now?”
Vincent went silent. The man shook his head and raised his cane, gesturing to the corridor behind them with the white stick. “You know, from the moment that girl stepped through the doors, I did not see one hint of her trying to hide who she was. She had every intention of showing us the irrefutable proof of her age from the very start.”
Sevastian tapped on Vincent’s chest with the cane. “You were the one to say she was clever, boy, you know her personality best. Tell me, has she ever tried to hide her real self from you?”
Vincent considered all of his time spent with her, and realised that no, Lucy had not actually ever tried to pretend she was a normal 18-year-old girl. She hadn’t even tried to hide her more special abilities. Scytale might also be more unique than he first thought too. He shook his head for his grandfather, who nodded and continued marching down the hallway with his cane.
“I’ve seen her type before, boy. She’s dangerous, very dangerous, but I know what she is.”
“Her… type?” Vincent repeated, frowning as he followed the man.
Sevastian nodded. “It’s a surprise to see it occurring in an 18-year-old, even if she has a soul older than two centuries.” He looked at his grandson with a serious expression. “Many individuals, often those isolated from society at one time or another, once they reach a particular age, develop… interesting personalities. Not by accident, but rather intentionally. A common example would be the Grand wizards and Archmages of All-Aeon Athenaeum, with their haughty and pretentious attitudes. They shrug off all values that society would force upon them and act without restraint, as long as their ‘persona’, if you will, allows it, uncaring of the attitudes of the people around them.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I had almost thought I was seeing things when I noticed it occurring with her, but I suppose the difference between her body and soul in age explains it.” He frowned and shook his head again. “Don’t try to get them to drop their persona though. Most of the time, this ‘front’ they put up is a coping mechanism of sorts. It is how they interact with society in an acceptable way after years of isolation. They don’t necessarily have nice personalities underneath. Of course, those members of All-Aeon Athenaeum aren’t always pretending.” He said, chuckling to himself.
Sevastian suddenly whirled around and tapped Vincent on the arm with his cane. “What I am unimpressed about,” he continued, frowning at the man wearing half-moon glasses, “Is how you didn’t accept that girl’s offer the instant she made it!” he rebuked, glaring at him with piercing grey eyes.
Vincent scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “It would be unbecoming of an Evisenhardt to be so eager to accept an offer.” He replied, trying to reduce his anger.
His grandfather’s glare intensified as he lightly whacked Vincent over the head with his cane. “Don’t make excuses to me young man, I’ve had over seven hundred years of experience in dealing with your father’s generation.” He waved his cane higher in a threat of more violence.
“But… wouldn’t me taking up her offer trouble the County?” The younger man said in response, covering his head to avoid being hit by the cane.
His grandfather huffed and marched on ahead. “When do you turn 30, boy?”
“Uh… three years?” Vincent responded hesitantly. The Evisenhardt Count nodded and waved a hand to gesture at him.
“When an Evisenhardt noble turns 30 they traditionally take up a proper position of power within either the County or the County’s main businesses. However, you are one of 7 brothers, and have 6 competent sisters. You are also the youngest child, with the least succession rights.” Sevastian raised an eyebrow at him. “What position still exists for you by now?”
“It’s hardly my fault my father had three wives.” Vincent responded sarcastically.
His grandfather was unamused. “Then would you rather not have been born?”
Vincent wisely remained silent, so the older man gave him a mildly exasperated sigh and turned to face him. “Vincentimo Sorviere Evisenhardt.” He stated. “You are young. Inexperienced. And unneeded.” His grandfather told him harshly, interjecting each word with another poke of his cane. Vincent blinked, nonplussed. His grandfather whirled back around and pointed to the end of the hallway.
“But for some reason, that girl saw something in you. This girl has offered you a way to bypass all your siblings and make it straight to the top. Don’t ruin this chance. I have noticed the positive light you have described her in before this, meaning you’re clearly unopposed to working with her. I had almost thought you were interested in her.” He chuckled.
Vincent gave him an absolutely horrified look, making his grandfather glare at him again. “I know now that that was obviously not the case. You were interested in the personage, or maybe more accurately, the mind behind those plans of hers.”
Vincent stared at him in confusion, making Sevastian shake his head wryly. “Ever since you were a child I’ve noticed all the wonderful ideas you’ve come up with for the County and the Faction.” He gave a regretful sigh. “Unfortunately, the way of the County and its nobility has been fixed over the years, with very little room to make the changes you so desired.” He looked at his grandson. “Again, boy, don’t ruin this chance of yours.”
They walked in silence as Vincent digested their conversation. It was a lot for him to take in. But he couldn’t help look at his grandfather weirdly. “How could you even believe I would be interested a girl 9 years my younger?”
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“Bah.” The Count of Evisenhardt gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Age gaps are normal among Ascendants. It’s not so uncommon. Why, I’m 50 years older than your grandmother!”
“You married her when she was already 172.” Vincent responded flatly. “It’s not the same.”
The older man turned to his grandson with narrowed eyes. “It seems you’ve some attitude in you. I don’t know if I want that returning to my County. As a matter of fact…” Sevastian said, looking intensely at Vincent, “You won’t be returning at all.”
Vincent was stunned. “…what?”
The older man grabbed his grandson by the shoulders and whirled him around. Then, he lifted his cane and pointed it in the direction of Lucy’s room. “If you won’t take matters into your own hand, then I will.” He said. He jabbed his grandson in the back with the white cane. “You go up there, you say you’ll accept that offer, and you stay here.”
“W-Wait, wait, wait.” Exclaimed Vincent, confused by the developing events. “What are you-”
“Just go!” his grandfather interrupted, pushing the man along with the cane. “I’ll not have you standing here like some pushover, trying to stall! Get up there and accept her offer!”
Vincent hesitantly took a step forward, and then started walking quicker when he noticed Sevastian waving around his cane threateningly behind him.
“I’ll kick you out of the County if you try to come back without having accepted that offer!" he shouted.
Still stunned, Vincent started making his way down the familiar path to the elevator that would take him to Lucy’s room. As he got closer, his stunned state faded, and he slowed down, but kept moving. He thought deeper about his situation.
His grandfather had always been a… headstrong man, courtesy of his many years negotiating with nobles at the Bank, but never this outspoken. He supposed the plans Lucy described must have given him some motivation and gotten him excited somehow.
He hesitated as he considered Lucy’s plans. Even if they weren’t original ideas, as she had said, it was still mightily impressive that she had come up with a way to adapt them to the Commission. It would’ve needed heavy experience in organisational management. It made him wonder what she did before all this.
Although… he shuddered slightly as he remembered the sensation of the soul pressure. It was a dizzying, throbbing sensation that felt like it was threatening to tear apart the very fibres of his mind, vibrating and resonating in time with the hundreds of vague thoughts and impressions pulling at his consciousness as the vast presence had descended on the room. Maybe it wasn’t a good thing to know more.
That brought him to a topic he didn’t really want to consider. Namely, how he was going to interact with Lucy after all this. Before the meeting, he had been willing to become her aide, because she was a genuinely interesting person, and her plans had intrigued him. Now she didn’t feel approachable, or even human to him anymore. It’s not like she had tried to hide her true thoughts or opinions from him, and apart from a few odd times, she had always given him an explanation for her actions. But then there was that stray comment about how she had ‘played her part’ which gave him mixed feelings.
Maybe he needed to approach this from a different angle. He frowned as he turned a corner and considered the implications behind a 250-year-old soul being in a teenager’s body. He had heard a few stories from before the time of the Tower, when the Mystical Realm was still unassimilated, about Archmages or 12th circle wizards developing reincarnation spells that let them be reborn in a new body a few thousand years later, and apparently the concept was heavily prevalent in the Heavenly Realm, with their 6 paths of Samsara. Strong demons could also use their astral body to possess others, and a few rare soul magics could do so too. But after assimilation, reincarnation and possession were strictly controlled by the System, and handed out as a very rare reward, apart from temporary possession abilities. As for why Lucy had earned it… he had no clue.
With her strong and large soul, it would make sense if she was a soul cultivator, but cultivators had a very distinct nature and presence. Lucille felt more like a high-ranked mage or noble to him. She even used several mannerisms similar to the nobility of the Empire, and she cast that arcane bolt spell. Cultivators couldn’t use mana. They were born with their ‘dantian’ that allowed them to condense spiritual energy into this ‘spiritual essence’ thing that resided within their bodies, allowing them to strengthen their bodies with the normally rather ineffectual energy.
And you could only have a dantian if you had a ‘Spiritual Root’, which required you to be born in a realm with no mana. That meant the Heavenly Realm. You couldn’t have a spiritual root even if you were born in the Demon Realm, which had very sparse mana, because even the slightest contact with it while within the womb would change it to become normal mana veins. Soul cultivators were the rarest, so maybe they could do things normal cultivators couldn’t… but he put Lucy being a cultivator at rather unlikely.
He scratched his neck, a bit confused. That meant she was a mage or wizard of some kind, considering that spell of hers, but he didn’t actually remember asking what kind of mage she was. There were several Orders for mages and Towers for wizards corresponding to different elements in the All-Aeon Athenaeum, but she hadn’t used any elemental magic in front of him as of yet. He supposed he’ll have to ask her later. As for more clues that could point to her identity… there was only that serpent bond of hers, who was practically missing in action with how long he hadn’t seen the beast, and the strange way she had treated him when they first met. There was also that situation with the Legendary accessory craftsman…
He paused when he remembered a strange piece of conversation he had had with her after meeting the crafter. It had been a strange excuse, but if there was the slightest bit of truth to it, it would explain a few things. Such as her attitude towards him and the crafter, and her apparent lack of desire to become a Rank-1 first, coming straight to the Commission as soon as she was able. But…
He shook his head forcefully. That was utterly ridiculous. There was no way she would’ve been so willing to admit she was a time traveller. He chuckled wryly to himself as he entered the elevator. There were probably a mountain of alternative answers he could choose from, and he was only getting fixated on one of the least likely or logical solutions available. He shook his head again to get rid of the idea, stepping out of the elevator and into one of the cream floral-patterned corridors of the Founder’s floor. He guessed he wouldn’t be able to find out anymore until he had worked alongside her for a while. If her attitude hadn’t changed towards him, then it might be easier than he expected.
But as he opened the oak door of her living room, a thought resided in the back of his head that maybe, just maybe, Lucille knew more about what will occur in the future than she was letting on.
----------------------------------------
Lucille looked up from her tea when she saw the door of her room open to reveal Vincent standing there in his white suit, looking a bit weary. He shut the door behind him with a click as she gestured to the brass jug on the coffee table.
“Would you like some?”
He seemed to watch her expression for a moment, like he was looking for something. She tilted her head at his reaction, but then he just sighed and gave a light chuckle to himself, sitting down on the couch opposite her. She shrugged and took another sip of her drink as he picked up the jug.
“This isn’t some of that disgustingly bitter drink you seem to be able to enjoy daily is it?” he said, eyeing the jug dubiously.
She shook her head and winced at the pain it induced. “I decided not to exacerbate my headache by drinking something like that today.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Headache?”
She frowned as she rubbed her temples. “There is a reason why I haven’t been using my spiritual energy constantly.” She responded dryly, taking another sip of her tea. “It’s not exactly fun to be in a body that can be overwhelmed by strain if you so much as think too hard.”
“I’d like to know what kind of thinking you’re doing if it could give you a headache just like that.” He said, putting down his cup. He shook his head and leaned forward to look at her intently. “I’m here because I would like to accept your offer of being an aide.”
Lucy glanced at him and noticed a few details. The normally immaculate suit he wore was slightly crumbled, Vincent’s fluffy hair seemed to be strangely flat on top, and his glasses were slightly askew. She peered at him over the top of her drink as she took another sip.
“Normally, I’d be fine to start working out the finer details once you’ve said that, allowing you to begin working soon. But…” she said, cocking an eyebrow. “Are you sure this was a willing acceptance of your own design?”
Vincent blinked, his mouth slightly open in surprise. “How did y- wait.” He said, staring at her suspiciously. “That’s not just a guess, is it. That headache’s not normal.”
Lucy avoided eye-contact and looked to the side. “The view is rather pleasant today, don’t you think?”
“The window is behind you.” Vincent reminded her.
They had a brief staring contest in the silent room before Lucy sighed and placed her empty cup on the table. “Are you aware of what spiritual sense is?”
“Vaguely?” he said, a bit puzzled.
Lucille pointed to her head. “If I was a cultivator, then I could direct my spiritual sense more locally to view specific areas. Because I’m not, having sacrificed that function and ‘spiritual sense’ for greater detail, when I use what is my spiritual perception field, it expands in a spherical form, and I get feedback on everything within that radius.” She winced as she rubbed her head again. “If I had the physique of a Rank-3, then I could support it for longer periods.”
“So, you were spying on the conversation I had with my grandfather.” He responded flatly.
Lucy blinked. “No?”
Vincent leaned back to look at her with suspicion. “Aren’t you saying you had a headache because you expanded it too much to hear me and my grandfather?”
She shook her head and looked at him again. “No. I expanded it too much while listening to you and your grandfather, the other Counts, the heir, and his escort. All the cleaning staff. The maids. The clerks. Viewing every breeze, every mote of dust, every object. Every speck of matter. Every particle of mana. Any spiritual energy residue. Everything within the Headquarters.” She frowned at the table. “Actually, I think the magic arrays in the basement need replacing. They’ve probably gone over their 10-year limit, because the mana efficiency of those ventilators is atrocious.”
Vincent stared blankly at Lucy. Then he held up a hand to pause her, the other messaging his nose bridge. “W-Wait just one moment.” He put his hands together and stared at Lucy again, leaning forward. “You’re saying… you can even see detail up to… what, the number of people in Headquarters right now?”
“9,334.” She abruptly announced. She rubbed her temples. “It was originally around 7,300 an hour ago, but the news about the visiting Counts seem to have been spread.”
Vincent leaned back, flabbergasted. Then his eyes widened in realisation. “So, that’s how you found out I never reported those plans to my grandfather.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “How long have you been spying on me?”
She cocked an eyebrow and leaned back. “After how you saw me react to using it for a short period of time today? Seriously?”
He opened his mouth but closed it afterwards when he realised that there’s no way she could’ve used it for a whole week just to catch him. Lucy pointed to her head again. “I’m just proficient at personality analysis.”
The man wearing half-moon glasses rolled his eyes. “Riiiight.”
She shrugged. “Believe what you will. As for another matter…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Any update on the Vadel situation?”
Vincent’s expression went serious as he nodded. “There has been, actually.” He intertwined his fingers as he leaned forward. “The two nobles have returned safely to their estate, but there’s a curious event that occurred during their trip: the convoy had been destroyed by a freak avalanche and only five people survived, including the two Vadels.”
She frowned, crossing her arms. “An accident on a secret mission is far too suspicious.”
Vincent nodded. “I agree. It is very unlikely. Especially considering it was called the ‘Permafrost Glacial Abode’ region.”
She nodded. “The naming conventions of the System are very specific. If it has ‘Permafrost’ in the name, it will mean the glaciers and ice there are not prone to shifting, unless dislodged by a King-ranked monster or equivalent strength beast of some kind.” She frowned again. “But a monster or beast of that strength would’ve had its aura felt if they were close enough to be affected by an avalanche from a frontier region. The mountains wouldn’t have grown too high yet, meaning they would’ve been close enough to sense it.”
Vincent sighed and leaned back. “That is the conclusion my clan and Ravimoux have come to.” Seeing Lucille look up in response to ‘Ravimoux’, he explained himself. “I made the decision of involving the forces of Ravimoux to gain more accurate information.”
Lucy tapped on her chin. “That’s a good move. As much as the situation involving that intruder was dealt with in a way that reduces debt between us, the Count would want to show his goodwill to me so I could have no complaints about the intruder. Letting them help is also a way to access their information of Alichanteu, which I’d say they have more on than the other Counties.”
Vincent nodded and looked at the table. “Then should we assume there was an instigator behind this ‘avalanche’?”
“That seems the best plan for the moment. Why did those five survive?” she said, reaching for the jug.
He frowned slightly as he reviewed his memories of the information. “I think it was attributed to a mix of skill and chance. The heir of the Vadels and the manager for Alichanteu, Efratel, had hired several individuals of much higher talent than were contracted by the convoy company. His younger cousin, Marellen, is known as a minor talent within the Alichanteu, but the other three were also interesting. He had contracted a pair of siblings, the female being a member of the Black Hand Mercenary Guild, and the male being a spear wielder known for causing trouble.”
Lucy paused her pouring of her tea to look up. “Huh. Were they called Larena and Garthe?”
Vincent reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a slip of paper, reading it carefully. He looked up. “Uh… yes, actually. How did you know that?” he asked curiously.
She went back to pouring. “I actually met them around the same time as I met the Vadels in that frontier region. I suppose my intervention caused them to decide to work together.” She said, picking up her refilled teacup and leaning back on the couch.
“I see. The last member was also rather unique: a snow-elf mage who has been working as a adventurer of the Adventurer’s Guild in the Beast Realm after she ran from the unfortunate rumours about her heritage that caused conflict within her family. She has the rare dual affinity of ice and fire and I believe her current name is Roa Winteri-”
Lucy spluttered as she spat out her mouthful of tea, coughing. She withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket as she coughed several times, waving a hand to the dubious Vincent to assure him she was alright. “Sorry.” She said, putting back down the teacup. “I think I might’ve misheard you. Could you repeat that last bit for me?”
He eyed her sceptically but acquiesced, shifting his glasses as he looked back down at the paper. “Her name is Roa Winteridge. Although, it seems she’s been going by a nickname of sorts, because I have been informed that her true name is actually-”
“Trisroa Vel-Winteridge.” Lucille interjected, frowning deeply.
Vincent stared at her for a moment, eyeing her with suspicion. “It seems you’re familiar with her.”
Lucy kept frowning, staring at the table in thought. “Not really. I’ve never met her if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Yet your reaction points to more than a simple connection.” He replied dryly.
Lucille gazed at him with narrowed eyes, wondering how much to tell him. She sighed and looked at the roof. “There is a certain group of… people I very much wish not to get involved with. She is someone with such connections to that group of people, whether she knows of it or not. I just didn’t expect her name to be coming up here.”
Vincent still looked suspicious. “Did you offend some powerful force or Faction of some kind?”
She shook her head. “No. Neither they nor the… group she’s connected to know of me in the slightest. My existence doesn’t endanger the Faction at all, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“And if I ask any further, you’ll just respond with time travel?” Vincent asked, an eyebrow raised.
Lucy shook her head again. “Not even that.” Vincent looked taken aback by her answer, but she didn’t stop to address it. “We have little more than a partial relation to one other person at one point in time.” She looked down at the table, frowning again. Then she shook her head and gestured to him. “She’s a very talented magic-user, so it would be best to keep an eye on her.”
That was the biggest understatement of the millennium. After all, who would dare reduce the grand title of the Sovereign Sorceress of Frostfire to a mere magic-user?
“Keep tabs on the rest of the group to the best of your ability as well. Knowing of a manager who’s in contact with the Raven’s Wing Shadow Blade of the Black Hand can’t be a bad thing for the Commission.”
Vincent nodded. After finishing his tea, he got up and gave a light bow. “I’ll come back another day to discuss the finer terms of my employment, and potentially the internal debut we need to arrange for you, but for now, I’ll return to my residence.”
He held out a hand for her. “I look forward to working with you, Lucille Goldcroft.” He said with a smile. She stood up and shook it, before he left and shut the door behind him. In the now silent room, Lucy sat back down expressionlessly, crossing her arms.
Hearing the name of the second strongest member of the Hero’s party was definitely unexpected, but it showed that her actions would cause more and more butterfly effects that would culminate to create unfamiliar events as time went on. That was why she decided to put so much effort into aiding a Faction that was fated to collapse in a few years. She needed more power than just what a few skills and stats could do.
She looked at the roof and closed her eyes. But she didn’t mind the butterfly effect. It would only benefit her more in the end. Information was only useful when it was valid, and the Commission would give her the advantage when it came to that.
Then, I might see if I can steal this party member of yours, Griffin. Don’t hate me too much, ‘Hero of Light’.
Lucille’s mouth curled up into a wicked grin. The Commission was only a side project, after all.