Chapter 204 - Mission Briefing

"Huh? You too?" Scoffed the tall man in a violet shirt paired with shiny red pants and yellow boots. "Here I thought Master Osric had something special in store just for me."

"Hello Lucian," Vern replied, ignoring the grumbling as he walked next to him. The man's fashion sense was as repulsive as always, but Vern had learned to ignore it.

"Gosh, why are you so smug?" Lucian shook his head as his somewhat long blonde hair flopped around. "You only won once, okay?"

Vern shrugged with half a smile. He didn't even mention anything about that battle, but Lucian brought it up himself. Maybe he was still hung up on it.

"So you don't know why we're being called either?" Vern asked.

Lucian extended his empty hands with a bigger shrug, "Not a clue. Especially since you're also here." He then narrowed his eyes and leered at Vern, "You didn't inject yourself with Old blood secretly or something, did you? If you did, I wouldn't want to be there for the fallout."

Vern chuckled, "I like living as a free man. I don't wanna anger the reapers of the city for no reason." There was no way he would go against Mistress Amelia. She alone could end hundreds of him, much less the whole of King's parity court.

Lucian nodded slowly, "Yeah, you aren't stupid." Running his hand through his silky smooth hair to somehow make it look worse, he said, "Bah! Who cares? We'll know soon enough. Master Osric is straightforward about things like these."

After a couple of minutes of not-so-awkward silence, they passed through tens of corridors to reach that large painting of Empress Sinatra in the training hall.

Just like the first time Vern had properly met this Kingsman, he was looking up at the grand painting, his hands locked behind his back, expression hidden behind that dark face cover.

"Greetings, Master," yelled Lucian in an army-like manner, suddenly turning ramrod straight.

Vern followed the cue and bowed lightly, "How can I be of service, Lord Osric?" He didn't mind showing respect to this man. As a colleague of Mistress Amelia, he more than deserved it.

On that note. Where is she? It'd been a while since he'd seen her. On top of that, what happened to the request I made—

"Ahem, good," Lord Osric turned around with a whirl of his cape, "You're here in time. Now, without any delays, I have a task for both of you."

Not waiting for them to respond, he pierced them with his sharp eyes and explained, "We're preparing an expedition to the Crescent Bay and want both of you on it."

Crescent Bay… Vern repeated to himself. Isn't that—

Lucian suddenly turned pale as a sheet, "Ma…master, are you sure?" His voice crackled. "That's…that's the plagued district!"

Vern's eyebrows shot up. Lucian was right. Just by roaming around the Seraphim square's eastern border, one could see tens of Kingsmen standing guard all around the banks, cutting down even a fly that flew out of that place.

That's not all, he hissed, remembering the view that Captain Akira had shown him and the rest from atop the castle. Back then, a bloody hand was constricting all of the Bay area, and within it was that…creature.

The creature had eyes with teeth made of hair. The creature effortlessly slipped into his mind, whispering insensible nonsense, all the while making it impossible to look away.

Vern's expression grew heavy, and so did the air around the three of them. Not voicing his concerns, he waited for Lord Osric to elaborate.

"Indeed." Then he looked around them before lowering his voice, "The plague has already spread throughout the bay, and we see no signs of it stopping. The King's Parity Court has made multiple expeditions into the bay with nothing to show for it but the death of our comrades."

His voice turned grim, "We've yet to find the source of this plague, and even farther from coming up with a way to stop its progress."

That was an ominous thing to hear. So much manpower, so many great minds, and still no solutions?

"Then how exactly can both of us help with this?" asked Vern, trying not to let the skepticism slip into his voice.

If the answer were that it's just because Lucian and he were Observers, he would have to reassess the competence of the King's Parity Court. If they wanted to thrust two first-shade observers into a dangerous district with no plan, he would have choice words about this all.

"That's because you two are Observers with Old blood," replied Osric.

Motherfuc— he barely managed not to yell it out aloud. I don't even have Old blood in me! He was still awaiting the response to his request to Mistress Amelia. Also, even if he did, what was a first shade Observer with the first infusion of Old supposed to do about a district-wide plague?

Yet, before he could compose his choice words, Osric looked towards Vern and added, "Yes, you too."

With a flick of his arm into his jacket, he pulled out a parchment with an official seal, "The court has agreed not to force higher infusions on you even if your psyche can handle it. That's to say, there's no need for you to accept the second or higher infusions if you don't wish to for whatever reason. Generally, a Kingsman must always grow to the best of their abilities, but somehow Amelia managed to sway their opinion."

That didn't answer his primary concern, but a hint of excitement still coursed through Vern. One of the biggest weaknesses of an Observer was their body. His was just as troublesome. While it had gotten a little better over time with his training, it was always the bottleneck in bringing out the best of Duality and his combat capabilities.

However, he also understood that infusion of Old Blood wasn't his primary path to power. It would be a disservice to all his advantages if he focused too much of his energy on mastering the old blood and climbing its ranks.

In the world of observation, he had knowledge and understanding that nobody else did, putting him in a position to exploit that and become a truly singular being as long as he was careful.

Old blood, on the other hand, was a shallower path, with limited growth and nothing that made him better than others. Not by much, at least.

This was to say, he had to balance infusions of old blood and shades in his perception in a peculiar manner. He didn't have to go for the extreme, choosing only one, but instead, he had to mix and match them in a way where the infusions complemented his Observation but never overtake them.

One infusion might be all I ever need. Having a somewhat tough body that could make him highly resistant to human woes like cuts, falls, and diseases already sounded heavenly.

There was also the fact that an infusion would ground his body back into the realm of objectivity, not leaving it fully up to the whims of his viewpoint in the future.

Beyond all of that, he had another reason not to follow the path of blood for too long. It's external strength. According to his conjectures, the blood's power came from the origin of the blood.

Mistress Amelia mentioned that since after Duskfall, the Kingsmen's strength increased rapidly. Almost as if the shattering of objectivity allowed the originator of the blood to find better purchase in their reality, uplifting its stake in the Everflux.

What convoluted all this further was the fact that this Old Blood reacted to the Eterna during the confluence which suggested some kind of relation between them.

Did the Eterna also have Old Blood in him? Or maybe all paths related to Blood had some form of synergy?

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

This train of thought led him to even wilder ideas. Hmm, what if he's the originator of the old blood?

He extended his hand to take the parchment from Lord Osric as he rejected that last idea. The old blood came from the Cthonic ruins. It was much more probable that the Blood Eterna got his powers from similar ruins rather than the other way around.

"However…" Lord Osric kept his grip on the parchment firm. Vern looked up, and the heavy voice continued, "There's one condition, and it's only so lenient because Amelia wouldn't settle for anything worse."

Vern slowed down, relaxing his grip. It made sense that he wouldn't get an exception for free.

So, he patiently waited for Lord Osric to continue, which he did, "You have to agree to this expedition and do your best in there."

He nodded internally. It wasn't as bad as he thought. Still, he wanted to be clear, so he enquired, "What does 'best' mean?"

"Everything is written down in the decree, but it essentially means you will use all your talents for this expedition, including that of a Fundamentalist, Observer, and a Kingsmen, and do everything you can to figure out the plague."

That was intriguing.

Seeing the questioning look on his face, Lord Osric kept going, "To begin with, it's a necessity to have old blood infused within oneself to avoid instantly succumbing to the plague. Only the fourth or fifth shade of your kind can handle it otherwise. Anyone below will fall victim to it within a day."

So, Observers can handle it, too? They just need to be singular enough to handle the interference brought about by this plague. That brought about even more ideas to him. Does this mean by infusing oneself with old blood, one borrows a part of its originator's singularity?

It was a bit of a stretch because he was assuming the deciding factor of whether one fell prey to the plague was determined only by height of one's singularity. In that sense, he shouldn't be affected by it even without Old Blood if he walked around as Axiom, but he wasn't about to bet on it.

The interactions in the world weren't governed simply by who had a higher singularity. It was about the insights that enriched the said singularity to its current height. So, there was a chance of even Axiom getting affected by this plague.

"Secondly, this expedition is special. The court isn't sending you all in to repeat the previous ones." A confident edge laced his every word, "We have partnered with famed Arlan Carter, and he's made us something that might change the course of this whole excursion."

Vern raised his eyebrows as things began to make a bit more sense. He clearly remembered Mr. Arlan Carter. He was a genius Fundamentalist even before Duskfall, and recently, Vern had learned that the man was an Observer, too.

On top of that, he was a little crazy. He'd infused himself with old blood just to test its effects and managed to reverse the whole process as well. Vern had gone and read the entire published article on the process, and the cleansing method he'd used to reverse the infusion was innovative, to say the least.

If he's involved in this whole thing, maybe there's more thought to it than I'm giving them credit for.

Seeing the look of realization on Vern's face, Osric chuckled, "You've heard of him, huh? Good, good."

"Umm, Arlan, who?" interjected Lucian, clearly confused.

Osric's smile faded as he shook his head, "You don't need to know. It's enough that Vern does. So, yes. Mr. Arlan has created a perceptual something something that both of you can use to potentially locate the source of the plague."

"A perceptual artifact," Vern suggested.

"Yeah, that. We hope both of you can locate the source, cause of spread or any clues that can help us understand just what the hell is going on. Especially you, Vern. Mr. Arlan has special instructions for you. He praised you highly."

Mr. Arlan knows about me? While that was a little unexpected, it wasn't shocking either. His master back in Nvoria had ties with Mr. Arlan since way back. What mattered more was that this mission seemed to require someone who could avoid the plague and had the acumen to investigate logically.

That's when Lord Osric suddenly turned back to look at Empress Sinatra's portrait and mumbled, "No one wants to see the repeat of what happened in Arisa."

That name instantly filled Vern's mind with images of a large city burning. That was what happened decades ago. Previously, some mutation in Old Blood led to the end of the city of Arisa and Empress Sinatra's reign.

Yet, that comment suggested something terrible. Something more. Vern hastily asked, "Does that mean…" he trailed off, not putting the horrible thought in words.

Osric met his gaze and nodded heavily.

"…"

Lucian, however, couldn’t read between the lines and pried, "Wh…what is going on? Please, master, Vern. I…don't get it."

Vern took a deep breath and replied in a very low voice, "The plague has spread outside the bounds of the Crescent Bay, and soon it won't be enough just to quarantine the affected district."

Lucian opened his eyes wide, his breath caught in his throat. "Does…does that mean my neighbors and friends in Edison Enclave aren't safe either?"

Osric and Vern remained silent, hoping that was answer enough.

The city had yet to fully recover from the devastating losses during Duskfall, but a plague that could lead to burning down all of Elmhurst would be the straw that broke the camel's back.

This…this is worse than I thought.

Which only made the absurdity of this situation more obvious. Unable to hold back any longer, he let out all his thought, "Then, why us? If this is so serious, why can't the city just deploy its elites—the best of the best. Heck, even Prince Akira or Captain Shinsei or the hidden existences with even more strength? Surely, the city has some.

I guess even Observers of the fifth shade have a chance of being infected by the plague, but can the King's parity court really not bend its rules even in such a dire situation? Can't they allow infusions to those outside the set laws? Heck, Captain Shinsei is a foreigner with so much empathy for this city. Surely he's a better candidate for this mission than either of us. And why won't Mr. Arlan go himself?

This…this doesn't make any sense."

Lord Osric's expression went through many phases, and even a hint of anger flashed in his eyes when he mentioned bending the rules of the King's Parity court, but after all this, he closed his eyes and sighed.

"It's…complicated. It's better for you to not know."

What the hell?

Lucian was even less willing to accept that answer as he grabbed Lord Osric's arm as he plead, "Master, no! Please tell us. I also don't get it. I…I don't want to be responsible for the death of all my friends as well. I need to know why this is happening. You…you have to."

Releasing the grip on the parchment and leaving it in Vern's hands, he massaged his glabella and stayed silent for a long while.

When both their impatience became palpable, Lord Osric sighed another time before eking out, "It sees us."

This only confused the two listeners further.

"What sees what?"

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"That being can see us."

Gears instantly clicked in Vern's head as a crazy conjecture formed in his mind, and he asked a follow-up, "Are you saying it can see those with higher power but not us?"

This time, it was Osric's turn to be surprised, and he questioned back, "You…you know about it?"

Vern hesitantly nodded, "Eyes with sharp teeth made of black hair. It wants to be scratched, shredded, torn…"

"Stop!" Osric commanded, a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, that…being. It can not only see us but also flare madness within us. It's a death sentence for both high-shade Observers and high infusion Kingsmen."

Lucian opened his mouth to say something, but words failed him, and he just mumbled something to himself.

On the other hand, Vern recalled the terrible sensation of being forced to stare into those disturbing pupils while being fed the incessant cries.

After a stunned silence that lasted too long, he asked, "Is that to say no one can defeat it?"

Osric shook his head, "It's possible. But it's not worth the price."

That…made sense. In the eyes of the leader, losing an isolated city like Elmhurst might be a better solution than losing the influential observers who make it up.

Even beyond that, who would willingly fight against such a thing? Especially when it wasn't taking the initiative to end them?

Except. What if the plague originated from that being?

Well, that's what they want us to figure out, I guess.

Vern read through the approval decree, which detailed what was expected of him—and it was just as much as Lord Osric mentioned, nothing much beyond that.

With a sharp breath, Vern looked back up and confirmed, "So you're sure that it won't 'see' us?"

Osric nodded, "Every time we sent Kingsmen of up to a second infusion, it never bothered them. And the low-shade observers that did go in, even after our warnings, succumbed to plague rather than the being.

Which means we need someone like you two to go in. In all fairness, Vern is probably more important, but we need a backup. We'll also be sending one of the court's members who recently managed to enlighten himself, but he's not as…accomplished as you two, to say the least."

Clasping his hands behind himself, Lord Osric stood taller and asked in a majestic tone, "So. What do you want to do?"

A part of his mind was shouting NO with deepest urgency, urging him to keep his distance from that being, whereas the more sensible part remembered Cedric's words.

Opportunities lay alongside danger. He wouldn't grow as an Observer by just sitting in the Vigil and doing simple cleansing. He would have to seize the opportunities to grow by their neck. This mission sounded just like that.

Also, it wasn't explicitly mentioned, but denying to go on this mission would ensure he never got to infuse old blood in any capacity.

That wouldn't be ideal.

Beyond it all, there was also the responsibility of doing the right thing. He wasn't a white knight by any means, but it would be a terrible burden to bear if his denial became the catalyst that led to the deaths of thousands of this city and possibly cause it to be burnt down the line.

Still, he asked Lord Osric many questions on what kind of dangers lay in the Crescent Bay. The gist was that it was riddled with mindless victims who had lost all their sensibilities alongside some dangerous observers and Kingsmen who'd succumbed to madness or blood.

Most of the danger came from the latter, but since they would go as a large group, it wasn't much of an issue either.

The only unpredictable quantity here was the subjectivity pollution in the bay. It ran rampant in there, and many dangerous entities had surfaced on the streets.

Since they would be in a group of elites within a second infusion, it was typically not a big problem, but there was no guarantee that it would be a harmless journey.

On top of all that, there was also the fact that Mistress Amelia had bargained for this compromise for him. Rejecting it would just not sit right with him.

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There isn't much of a choice, I guess.

"I accept," he declared with a set jaw. The balance was clearly tipped towards positives rather than negatives of accepting this mission.

Osric shifted his gaze to Lucian.

His oddly dressed colleague shouted, "I'll do everything in my power to solve this, master! I… won't let you down."

The Kingsman nodded with satisfaction before extending his hand. "Alright then, let's begin the infusion process."