My gaze quickly scans the small room with white brick walls where we are in. And this largely instinctive movement of my pupils does not go unnoticed by the one sitting opposite. With a light smirk, he says:
"Don't bother."
"You never know until you try yourself." I return a similar smirk but immediately add, to avoid being misunderstood, "But I have no plans to run."
"Commendable," the warrior-mage nods to my words and, without looking away from me, rummages in his belt bag with his free left hand.
A few seconds later, he pulls out a silver bracelet made in a deliberately simple but harmonious shape familiar to me.
"This is..." the alchemist starts to explain, but I interrupt him, finishing for him.
"A Truth Bracelet."
"So you know... That makes my job easier." With a forced smile, he extends the artifact to me.
Truth Bracelet is a standard, albeit expensive and not widely available artifact, based on the divine blessing of the true altar of Kamo. Essentially, it's akin to a lie detector. And like an earthly apparatus, it can be deceived. And I know how to do it. Especially in my case, it will not work correctly at all. This class of artifacts has an inherent flaw.
The said flaw in such artifacts, based on divine "gifts," is ingrained in their nature. They do not work with those who have any Affinity. Because Affinity is a kind of "blessing," too, but unlike the one attached to the artifact, it is fundamental, woven into the Core of the person who received it. This means I can calmly put this bracelet on my wrist and lie as I please - the artifact will remain "silent." But there's one nuance. I demonstrated my Affinity with Light at the local Temple, and if the alchemists dig a little deeper, this fact will surface very quickly. And my deception will be immediately exposed, and it won't matter whether I'm guilty or not - at the very least, they will immediately add me to the Guild's Red book, or even the Black one, which would be quite undesirable.
These thoughts pass through my head in about five seconds, and I decide to bet on external honesty and frankness. So I don't put on the bracelet, but, spreading my hands to the sides, I confess:
"This artifact won't work with me."
The warrior-mage believed me instantly, returning the bracelet to his bag in one swift movement, and at the same speed - I couldn't even flinch - he brought the blade of his daire to my neck. This opponent is out of my league. To kill me, he doesn't need this weapon, he will just snap his fingers, and I will be gone; the weapon is only needed as a demonstration.
"Explain," the alchemist orders, running his tongue over his upper teeth as if playing with me like a cat with a mouse.
"Sure," I reply lightly and casually - as if there's no blade at my throat at all. In reality, I'm not as calm as I want to appear, but I've gotten so into the role of the cool Raven that my emotions and slight fear are in no way visible. "Visualization."
And between our faces hovers the Sign of my Affinity with Light. Apparently, this Kiadi had dealt with followers of Antares before, as his hand didn't tremble, and the daire didn't move away from my throat even a millimeter.
"Well then…" the alchemist states with a light interest but maintains his calm. "That works too! Answer my question without dismissing your Sign, and I'll be satisfied."
Oh! He's right! According to the myths, Antares had a disdain for lies, and his visualized Sign might react somehow to a direct or even indirect lie, and the alchemist would notice! Damn it! I hadn't thought about this application of Affinity Signs before.
"Ask your question."
My voice is calm. At this stage, I can only be of interest to the Alchemists' Guild if they are curious about the phenomenon of earthlings. And the questers and their Barrier reliably protect me from such interest.
Although, wait! There's another option! What if information about the destruction of Nulgle's true altar shared by Larindel reached Tries? The Alchemists' Guild, being one of the Great Guilds, definitely knows the consequences awaiting those who dare desecrate a true altar of the dark deity. Dozens of ways to wiggle out of this unpleasant situation fly through my mind. But the question asked by the warrior-mage leaves me a bit stunned:
"Raven from Seyetl, what's your relationship with the Righteous Elevation sect?"
"What?.." I blurt out involuntarily.
"Raven from Seyetl, what's your relationship with the Righteous Elevation sect?" Kiadi obediently repeats.
"No, I understood the question the first time." I shake my head slightly, searching for the right words. "The problem is that I'm hearing this name for the first time."
While I'm speaking, the alchemist doesn't take his eyes off the Sign I visualized.
"Riykyu, patomakos, Ravalon, tantoros?" He continues to throw out incomprehensible words and names.
"I don't know the meanings of these words." I had thought about how to lie and wriggle my way out, but it turns out I don't need to. I genuinely don't understand what I'm being asked.
"Good…" the alchemist says with slight relief, and the daire swiftly returns to its place on the wide belt of the warrior-mage. "But I have to clarify - you don't have any connection to the Righteous Elevation sect?"
"Um…" I run my tongue over my dry lips. "I heard that name for the first time from you."
"Accepted! You may dismiss your Sign." The alchemist's face is once again graced with a friendly smile, just like when our conversation started.
With deliberately noticeable relief, I dismiss the visualization, and then, trying to appear as unaffected as possible, I ask:
"Is that it?"
"Officially, yes." The alchemist nods, demonstrating empty palms as if a gesture of peace. "Raven from Seyetl, the Alchemists' Guild dismisses all suspicions of your connection with the Righteous Elevation sect."
"So I am free to go wherever I want?" I clarify, just to be sure.
"That's exactly what I just said." The warrior-mage replies with a light smile, but he does not get up from the stool, which still blocks my way to the room's exit.
Of course, I could simply stand up and squeeze past him sideways, but such an act would not fit the cool Raven image I was portraying. So instead, I flopped onto the couch, put my hands behind my head, and indifferently asked while looking at the ceiling:
"But are you interested in anything else, right?"
Kiadi's silence lasts almost half a minute. I'm sure he's been studying me the whole time, but seeing nothing but indifference and aloofness, he finally speaks:
"Yes, I am interested. In one question. But this question is not related to the Guild; it's rather personal curiosity."
Sure, just the curiosity of a Reardane warrior-mage, nothing special... Not at all! Some kings are easier to refuse than people who have achieved such progress. But he doesn't know that I'm aware of his true rank, which gives me some freedom in my responses.
"You helped me," my hand lazily points at the empty bowl, "ask."
"And, as last time, you will simply answer?"
Deliberately slow, I turn my head towards him, and with disdain, a touch of aristocratic haughtiness, after a dismissive glance over his face, I say:
"If I deem it necessary..."
Oh! That was a mistake! I overdid it!!!
The eyes of the alchemist flared for a moment with a fire worthy of stars. In contrast, his cheekbones turned pale as chalk.
But...
I was lucky.
The Reardane warrior-mage remembered the mask he was currently wearing, and his furious gaze extinguished a fraction of a second before I was reduced to a pile of ashes.
I have to be more careful. I almost destroyed my life just now for the sake of my new image. To hide my emotions, I turn my gaze back to the ceiling.
"Well, that's fair..." I hear, and I can feel the barely restrained fury hidden behind this admission.
On the other hand, if I'm going to be cheeky, I might as well go all in, and I even feel a little thrill as I continue looking at the ceiling and say with a touch of annoyance:
"I'm waiting..."
And a grinding of teeth is my reward. Well, he shouldn't have scared me like that! I was terrified when he pulled out the Truth Bracelet. And I didn't like that feeling.
"The way you passed the selection round..." the alchemist starts from afar. "I've never seen anything like it. And neither has anyone else. I think you won't find anything like it in records spanning hundreds of years; otherwise, such a story would have been passed down as a tournament tale from generation to generation." After his words, I am absolutely certain that I overdid it with my performance today. "And here's my question... Raven..." I feel him lean forward with his entire body, so much so that the legs of his stool scrape mournfully against the concrete floor. "What Achievement did you get?!"
What? What's he talking about? Or is he right, and for such a show, I should have received something? I hadn't even thought about it... and only after his words did my inner gaze slip toward the Core.
"Art of War: 1 out of ??" - a new entry gleamed in mithril on my Core. This "inscription" raised more questions in me than it answered. I "looked" closer at the number "one," and it "unveiled" a new sub-entry: "Winning a hundred battles in a hundred fights is not the pinnacle of martial art. Vanquishing the enemy without a fight - this is the pinnacle." And as a bonus to this mithril achievement, there was a puzzling explanation: "Achievement: 'Second Wind.' A hundred additional steps."
What? What's "Second Wind"? What is it? And what hundred additional steps? Steps to where? But no matter how much I "looked" at this record, I didn't get an answer. And then a hunch struck me, and if it's right...
I froze.
A slight tremor ran through my fingers. My body was covered in perspiration.
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No?! It can't be!
Alright... Calm down... The thing I just thought of is far from certain. But it all matches.
In my mind's eye appeared Divino Mountain, the center of Ain. The center - not in a metaphorical sense, but literally. The Home of the Gods.
The mountain around which the Great Stairway ascends, each step upon which - a step toward Ascension. In the last cycle, four climbed it, and by the Last Battle, three of these four reached the first Flight of this Stairway: Nate, Katashi, Dice. Arien, however, died before reaching the first Flight. I know that for a human, each step on this Stairway is equal to an adamantium achievement. In theory, I could ascend several steps right now.
But... That's in theory.
In reality, Divino Mountain is surrounded by a dense Mist; each step in it drains the strength out of a person. Until the earthlings arrived, Ain's record was two thousand one hundred steps from the border of the Mist. The Shards, however, did not feel this Fog; for them, it was as if it didn't exist. More precisely, they saw it, but it had no effect on them and did not drain their power. "The previous me," a day before he killed a quester, tried to overcome the Mist. I blacked out on the two thousand two hundred and twelfth step, and workers hired in advance in Deytran pulled me out using a winch. And as my "memory" suggests, "I" then didn't even manage to see the start of the Stairway.
And if this new Achievement is what I think it is...
The shivering throughout my body intensified many times over, and I was literally shaking. According to Katashi, from the edge of the Fog to the First Step of the Stairway, there are five thousand five hundred and fifty-five steps.
Okay...
Calm down...
But how can I be calm if I'm being tempted by such a "carrot," about which I didn't even dare to think?!
"What is this achievement?" A foreign voice interrupted my thoughts.
My focus instantly dissipated, and, opening my eyes, I looked at the alchemist with a gaze that made the Reardane warrior-mage momentarily recoil from the Bronze fighter.
How untimely of him to ask his question!
He interrupted my train of thought. My gaze meets the alchemist's... And this brings me back down to earth. Just a second ago, I was going to refuse to demonstrate the Achievement. But my overreaction clearly showed him that I had received something unexpected and unforeseen. And such a demonstration happened right under his nose. Yes, I can refuse him; it wouldn't even be a breach of etiquette. But! In case of refusal, I would gain a very interested in me high-ranking member of the Alchemists' Guild. And that could complicate my life significantly. I need to reveal and not reveal at the same time. Isolating one entry, I formatted it into a Sign and visualized it.
"Second wind? One hundred steps?" Like me recently, Kiadi reads with surprise. "I don't understand."
"Neither do I understand much," - I nod to him. - "But this is an entry in Mithril!!!" I say, taking a deep breath. "Mithril!!!"
The scene I played out was supposed to explain my excitement and trembling hands precisely by the "color" of the entry. Because achieving a mithril Achievement on the metallic coil is incredibly cool. And the fact that I already have several such Achievements is something my interlocutor doesn't know. And it worked.
"Congratulations." The warrior-mage of Reardane states quite seriously but with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "A mithril record on Bronze... You have good potential." He gets up from his stool, gives me a quick nod, and says goodbye, "Thank you for the answers and allow me to excuse myself. I have a lot to do."
"Goodbye." But my words were spoken into emptiness - the alchemist had already left the room, leaving me alone.
Making sure the alchemist was gone, I lowered my gaze to my palms. My fingers were slightly trembling, very subtly, barely noticeable. In such a state, it was better not to appear in public, and so, sinking back onto the couch, I plunged into a long session of breathing meditation. My nervous tension was not caused by belated fear but rather by the sudden rush of excitement. This happened to me when I expected to, at best, make it into the top ten in competitions, but during the performance realized that I might end up on the podium. Then my fingers trembled just like that. I need to calm down. Especially if you look at the situation reasonably, in fact, little has changed for me. I am still an ordinary person, not a Shard, and ascending the Divine Stairway is almost unattainable for me. What difference does it make how far I will go in the Mist, two thousand two hundred steps, as in the last Cycle, or two thousand three hundred, with a bonus from the new Achievement? Right – none, because you have to withstand all five thousand five hundred fifty-five steps and not a step less.
Of course, it is possible that there are several dozen Achievements in the "Art of War" sequence, but to rely on the fact that I will unlock all of them, not knowing how to do it, is closer to fantasy than reality. And I got this one more by accident than as a result of a thought-out action, as my plan for the qualifying round was not at all like what ended up happening.
Yes, it's tempting to throw all my strength into trying to reach the Stairway in this Cycle rather than trying to repel the Invasion, pushing others to grow faster. After all, it's always easier to rely on yourself than on others. And if this weren't the last Cycle, I would do just that. But! In the current situation, I can't "put all my eggs in one basket," especially such a fragile and unattainable one. Of course, I should keep new perspectives in mind, but I shouldn't obsess over them, neglecting everything else.
These thoughts, together with steady breathing, worked; the trembling in my body passed, and I got up on my feet. I stretched and smiled widely. No matter what an illusory "carrot" or sophisticated mockery the new Achievement seemed, it still remained a Mithril-level Achievement! If before I doubted whether a tournament victory would be enough to reach Steel, then now, with the energy received from the new mithril record, I had no doubts about this!
Stepping out of the room, I found myself in a narrow, poorly lit corridor that seemed to encircle the entire Arena. There were dozens of small rooms similar to the one I had been sleeping in along this corridor. After standing idle for a short time, I spotted a janitor and asked him to show me the way out. As I descended the staircase worn by thousands of footsteps, I wiped the smile off my face and replaced it with an expression of indifference. On the last flight of stairs, I nearly collided with one of the junior attendants rushing upstairs. When he bumped into me, he broke into a smile:
"Contestant Raven! I was just on my way to wake you up! You should come to the registration desk. Let's go - I'll accompany you."
Nodding at the attendant, I obediently followed him.
The first floor of the Arena, in a large vestibule, was quite crowded. And when I showed up, all these people turned their heads toward me and fell silent. I could literally feel their curious stares, brazenly scrutinizing me. But one look in the crowd stood out: it was not curious but full of some kind of primitive hatred. Slightly turning my head, I quickly found the source of this hostility.
At the opposite end of the hall, leaning against the wall, staring at me like a bull at a matador, was the very axeman who had tried to chop me down even after the qualifying round ended and whom the organizers had "frozen" through the bracelets. Catching his furious gaze, I slightly tilted my head and gave a friendly smile. In response, he sprang, jumping to his feet, but quickly realized we were not alone. With a theatrical and contemptuous snort, he turned away and quickly left the hall.
While I was sitting in the center of the arena, I had time to gauge the approximate skill level of everyone who participated in the selection. And this fighter didn't impress me at all; most likely, he focused on brute force, and at lower ranks, this gave him success. But even at Bronze, brute force doesn't provide a significant advantage already.
Truth be told, none of the selection participants particularly impressed or interested me. All these people ended up in a mass brawl, not among the sixteen seeded ones. Only three of the whole crowd had real skills. And only one participant posed at least an illusory, almost non-existent threat to me. More precisely, a woman whom the senior attendant called Paravi Malik. And even then, she only stood out with her speed remarkable for Bronze, and her technique that was unfamiliar to me.
However, if the five who had planned to attack me during the end of the selection had managed to execute it before the round ended, I'm afraid they would have torn me apart. Just like a pack of hyenas tears apart a young lion, they would have shredded me. I'm still too weak to take on a group of five prepared and motivated fighters of my rank alone. But one-on-one, I will crush each of them without breaking a sweat, except for Paravi. With her, I'll have to struggle a bit. Not for long. But still, I'll have to.
Approaching the registration desk, I dutifully answered all the questions, got my clothes back, and learned the most important thing - the time the draw for the first round in the Bronze tournament grid would begin tomorrow. After changing in a small room, a copy of the one I slept in, I left my tournament clothing set with the junior administrator and left the lobby under the heavy gazes of strangers.
The street greeted me with the bright light of the setting sun, its rays hitting me right in the eyes. Covering my face with my hand as if it was a visor, I quickly began to descend the wide steps of the arena complex. After what I had staged today, I had become too recognizable, and I wanted to lose myself in the crowd as quickly as possible. But, on the very last ten steps, I was intercepted by none other than Aun, who was rushing at full speed, like a meteor. The young man's face was red, and his mouth began to open even before he came within five steps of me. I'm sure he has a lot to tell me, I can see how it is practically bursting out of him, but all of this can wait, and I shut him up with a sharp gesture.
"Stop! Everything you want to tell me can wait!"
"But..."
"I said EVERYTHING can wait!" My assertiveness made him shut up. "First, answer one question."
"Which?!" The boy asked obediently, standing next to me.
"What is the 'Righteous Elevation' sect?"
"Huh?!" Aun didn't understand me.
I had to slowly, almost syllable by syllable, repeat my question. The boy, pondering next to me, took almost a minute to think, and only after such a long pause did he begin to speak:
"That sect once existed in Tries. Long ago. But it disappeared long before I was born. Once, almost two centuries ago, it was very influential and, according to city legends, controlled the city senate as it pleased. But how much truth there is in those stories, I don't know. And there's nothing unusual in that, periodically, some faction, school, or sect gains enough influence and begins to have a greater impact on city life than others. But such dominance doesn't last long - the other political forces quickly consolidate around a common enemy and sweep them off the top." How much I like this guy! Not every earthling can provide such clear and, most importantly, concrete answers. "Although, the sect you mentioned is a bit unusual, not for what they did, but for what they left behind."
"Clarify."
"I'm not sure, but it seems like the Righteous Elevation sect was never officially closed or disbanded; it just lost influence over a few years, then finally withered away. But!" The youth, seemingly taking an example from me, paused at this moment and, with my own gesture, raised his index finger. "They still own property in the city for which taxes are paid to this day."
"How so?" I didn't understand.
"I don't know. I never looked into this issue." The boy shrugged.
"What property?"
"A small mansion in the government district and a VIP box at the Arena."
"Can you find out more about this?"
"I'll try." Aun nodded obediently.
"But isn't this sect outlawed in Tries?"
"No. I never heard of them being persecuted."
"Were there any conflicts between the sect and the Alchemists' Guild?"
The boy faltered at my question, then gave me a look of complete bewilderment before responding somewhat resentfully:
"How should I know?!"
"Fair enough." I calmed him down, realizing that I had gotten ahead of myself by expecting an ordinary boy to have encyclopedic knowledge. "Anyway, I can see you want to tell me something, so go ahead."
Instead of starting his story, Aun looked around, spotted an empty bench, and led me over to it. It wasn't until we were seated that he turned to face me, opened his mouth as if to speak, and then promptly shut it again, seemingly at a loss for words – an unusual state for him.
"Umm... do you remember the fire in the military port at night?" He began.
"I do. Did you find out about it?"
"Yes, I did." He responded quietly and uncertainly, avoiding my gaze.
"Tell me about it."
"I don't know where to start."
Back at the arena steps, he was eager to knock me off my feet and tell me something, but now he was mumbling. What was wrong with him? Taking a deep breath, I instructed:
"Start from the beginning."
He remained silent for almost a minute before starting to speak, still without turning his head to look at me:
"The fire broke out in one of the prison barracks. This barrack was under renovation and was supposed to be empty. But due to an unforeseen situation, they temporarily housed a few people in it." For some reason, a shiver ran down my spine at his words. The boy suddenly turned to face me and looked me in the eyes. "Yes! The former slaves from the 'Blood Wave' were in that barrack!" He then fell silent.
"Go on." My tongue barely obeyed me, but his silence was dragging on.
"Can I tell it in my own words, not like in the report?" Aun asked.
"Yes."
"Basically, as we thought, the 'Blood Wave' was put up for auction. And last night, a buyer was found. The deal hadn't been finalized yet, but a deposit had already been made. Upon learning this, the former slaves threw a party. They bribed the guard, who brought them several boxes of wine, and their helmsman seems to have arranged it all." Cristo? Yes, he could do that. "It's a violation, of course, but the kind that's usually overlooked. During the party, a conflict arose about splitting the proceeds from the sale of the galley. According to the description, Duar was the instigator of this conflict." Remembering the nature of this man, I was not very surprised. "The conflict turned into a brawl..." Aun's words were coming more and more slowly. "It probably would have ended in a regular fistfight, but..." Swallowing a lump in his throat, the boy continued. "That night, the officer on duty had just come off a ship that evening and didn't know there weren't any prisoners in that barrack. He burst into the building and got hit in the heat of the fight. The officer on duty was a fire mage, and then he acted according to the instructions..."
"According to the instructions?" I repeated.
"Yes!" The young man exclaimed. "He burned everything there! He killed them all!!! Raven, he killed them all! With a wall of fire! And you know what's the worst? Nothing will happen to this officer! He will even be rewarded because he thought he was suppressing a prisoner riot..."
"Hold on... wait. What do you mean he burned them all, and they all died?"
"It means what it says." The boy sniffled. "Duar, Melchi, Haini, Huran, Doctor Fuun, and your fellow countryman... They burned. All of them..."
"Say that again..." I spoke slowly, word by word.