Chapter 89 - Kingsmen

Vern strode past one chamber after another while Lucian continued to nag, "What's the hurry, man? We still got like five minutes."

"Yep. And I'd rather be there five minutes early."

"No, no, no. You got it wrong. Being on time means getting there JUST on time and not early. What if they're busy, and we disturb them by getting there before they expected?"

Vern countered with a smirk, "That just means you need to keep your mouth shut so you don't disturb anyone. Simple."

Lucian rolled his eyes and actually piped down. They were close to their destination, after all. Cedric left them as soon as they got off the elevator, giving them some vague directions. Apparently, he had to finish reading the book in the next thirty minutes, or there would be terrible consequences—whatever that meant.

Framed by a dozen elegant arches and tall columns, they finally found the training grounds. When they walked in, it quickly became apparent that it used to be the royal court. There was a stepped pedestal and a high throne on the end of the hall, dotted by a clear path in the middle with seats on either side.

Now, however, it was retrofitted entirely. Dueling grounds with clear demarcations were drawn on the floor, and another group of people was already even using it. Surprisingly, he had seen them not too long ago.

It was Captain Arthur and his group. Vern also saw the girl who used double-edged knives. She was facing someone in what looked like a friendly spar since wooden blocks floated around her instead of actual knives.

Lucian quickly swerved his trajectory to go watch the show, but Vern grabbed him and turned him towards the other end of the hall, where two Kingsmen stood in front of a giant painting.

An excited gleam appeared in his shabby colleague's eyes, and he quickly forgot all about the battles, making his way toward the reapers, and Vern followed.

The moment they were in range, Vern greeted them in his usual style, "A good evening, Mistress Amelia and Lord Kingsman."

While Lucian fumbled, "Good…good evening, Lord and Lady."

Mistress Amelia simply nodded, her wayward locks following the motion, while the other Kingsman looked both of them over for a while before replying, "Name's Osric. Glad to make your acquaintance. The Kings' parity Court and Vigil expect a lot from both of you. I hope we can do you justice."

Vern nodded alongside Lucian, but his mind lagged behind a little. He knew the reason for Kingsmen to be willing to take on commoners like him and Lucian, but what were their expectations? To run around the city and catch criminals? It seemed a bit…rude to ask that directly now.

Captain Shinsei didn't know, but maybe De Flanc could have? Well, no time to do that now. Lord Osric turned back to the painting before asking, his gear gleaming against the sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, "Do you recognize the portrait?"

"Yes," replied Lucian, while Vern had to give a, "Only a guess, sir," not having a solid idea of who the woman might be.

"Hmm, curious. You're not a local, right?"

"Indeed, sir."

"Why Elmhurst, then? Trains have yet to get going, but a couple airship routes are running again. You could go back to your roots if you want to."

After Lucian had asked him something along these lines, Vern came up with a more suitable answer. So, this time, he wasn't as lost and replied, "I used to apprentice under a great Fundamentalist in Nvoria, sir, but my only family—my little sister, lives here in Elmhurst. However, she's been missing since Duskfall. So, not much for me to really go back to."

That was the story he had decided to settle on.

Lord Osric swiveled back, his cape jerking the other way around. With a dark light in his eyes, he followed up, "Missing, you say? Not to burst your bubble, son. But too many missing ones are just…gone. If finding her is your reason for fighting, you might as well stop while you're ahead."

Vern could hear it wasn't coming from a place of malice, so he admitted with a heavy voice, "I know, sir, I don't expect a miracle, but I still have to do my best. With or without her."

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Lucian and Amelia's gaze seemed to turn a touch softer at these words, and Osric replied, "As long as your expectations are tempered. Anyways, if you guessed this portrait to be Empress Sinatra's, then you'd be right."

Vern nodded. That was his best guess, too. However, it could have been Lady Vena or Lady Eleonora, for all he knew—they all had reasons to have their paintings here. Though the painting really reminded him of Cera for some reason. Maybe it was the dress? Also, the hair color, and style. But the painting had a clear advantage in terms of bearing.

Lord Osric continued, "Milady Sinatra took this Empire that was down on its luck, plagued by a thousand problems, and turned it into a powerhouse rivaling the world's greatest kingdoms."

"What do you think was the biggest factor in the explosive rise of the Empire?"

Vern gave it a little thought and answered, "Military might?" That was the most standard answer for an Empire's growth in history. Lucian agreed with Vern.

Lord Osric nodded, "Yes. You aren't wrong, but where do you think this might suddenly came from? Training a capable army from scratch can take anywhere from a few decades to half a century, especially when it's constantly being ground down by internal and external factors."

He remembered reading a few tidbits about the Calidian Empire's rapid expansion that happened around forty years ago, but he never dug deep on the topic. Seconds passed, and neither Vern nor Lucian, who was scratching his head, had a real answer.

Those eyes beneath the tricorn hat flattened to match the smirk that appeared underneath his facecloth, and he carried on, "Now, that was a rhetorical question because there's no way you could've known. And I wouldn't be telling you if the game board hadn't been flipped so violently. But here we are, trying to train the new era equivalent of magicians and fighter hybrids."

But then his voice suddenly turned grave, "Anyways. The answer is—blood," and something around them changed the moment he said it. Vern felt a primal urge to bow down and let himself be consumed. It was like he was surrounded by feral things, and they wanted a piece of him. He could almost make out a red glow within Lord Osric's eyes."

Lucian was looking around, too, his brows furrowed. But as if that discomfort wasn't enough, the intensity of the feeling abruptly turned a notch higher. Vern's heart began thumping wildly out of nowhere, and he barely stopped himself from staggering.

It was the most fundamental of the urges, something within the deepest recesses of his mind, calling out to surrender. In front of him, Lord Osric seemed to grow taller, his form appearing evermore threatening, sending shivers down his spine.

It took him a second to come to terms with it, but apparently, Captain Shinsei was right. Kingsmen weren't your standard humans, either. Something was very wrong with this aura, and he was sure it wasn't just some psychological gimmick.

Once he factored that into the equation, he quickly realized it had to be a show of power, and just like Akira had done, Lord Osric was testing them before giving them a real chance.

That means he had only one way to go about this.

Hahh… Vern wasn't joking when he decided to do everything in his abilities to gain the power needed to find balance in his life. This was his chance to learn from some of the best fighters on the whole planet and maybe even employ their…secrets.

So when the intensity of the primal compulsion grew yet another time, a white ring appeared in Vern's eyes, and he stood taller. He had yet to see any repercussions from stabilizing himself, and since the situation called for it, he wasn't going to shy from using it.

A sharp look appeared in Lord Osric's eyes, and Vern saw the outline of the lips on the man's face cover growing wider before—

"AGHHH!" yelled Lucian, barely holding on. But Vern gritted his teeth and feigned calmness. Yet, this only seemed to ignite a fire within the Kingsman's eyes.

A tangible red aura pulsed from behind the man, and the surroundings distorted. Vern braced for another surge of that wild thumping from within and envisioned another wave of stability for himself.

But then came a soft voice, "That's enough, Osric." Mistress Amelia had a hand on the radiating Kingsman's shoulder. "There's other people in here, too. Don't be rude."

Her words alone shattered the pressure, and as if he'd come to the surface after being underwater for too long, Vern took a deep breath and closed his eyes for. Lucian was handling it worse than himself, clutching at his heart, but in contrast to that was the wild smile that played on his face as he took rapid, short breaths.

Vern couldn't help but be impressed that the guy was still standing. He wasn't sure he could've done the same without Stability Inducement, at least not at the end.

Then there was a sigh and some words, "If they learn right, these kids are gonna make us obsolete one day, huh, Amelia?"

She turned back to the painting and replied, "Yes, I'd like to retire."

Osric then patted Lucian and helped him stand up, "That was great resistance, both of you. A common man would be on his knees, pissing all over right about now."

"Thanks, master," moaned Lucian, his face a little pale, and Vern settled on a simple nod. He was still trying to match his previous understanding of Kingsmen with what was in front of him.

Looking at both of them with a new light, Lord Osric picked up the previous thread, "So, yes. The answer to the empire's rise was blood. Not many people know this because our Emperor's a coward, so let me tell you our history a little. When Milady Sinatra uncovered a Cthonic ruin under this very city, the whole destiny of the Empire changed.”

“Many of our predecessors explored it by sacrificing their lives, each unexplored path resulting in hundreds of deaths. However, after bartering thousands of our comrade’s souls for years on end, they finally found it…"

He held his palm and nicked a finger with another one's nail, and a dark maroon drop came oozing out, and he proclaimed, "The old blood." Just looking at it made Vern a touch dizzy.

But before Vern knew it, the cut was gone, and the Kingsman proclaimed, "The blood of beings from the genesis era. The blood that ran through the veins of those who later became gods. The Old Blood."