CHAPTER 59: SAINT WISDOM AVENUE

At the pinnacle of this grand structure, a figure adorned in regal military attire, his cloak trimmed with luxurious crimson fur, stood resolute before a vast window. From this vantage point, he surveyed the immense holy artifact that dominated the landscape, its magnitude eclipsing all else. Graceful airborne vehicles, adorned with intricate embroideries, swam through the skies, adding splashes of vibrant color to the scene.

With a crown of blonde hair dripping down his shoulder and a lengthy mustache, the man continued to stare out the window with determination in his eyes. The glass of wine in his hand shook gracefully with every swirl. Suddenly, a man dressed in a normal tuxedo walked into the grand room slowly. He put his hand to his chest and bowed.

"Honorable Lord Blanc. I carry with me a message from outer-city officials."

The man continued to stare out the window stoically. "Go on."

The butler bowed even further down as he began to relay the message slowly. "Your son... Trevor de Blanc, has unfortunately perished."

"What?" The coldness in his voice pierced daggers through the butler.

"According to the Guardians, a mutant rampage orchestrated by a nameless Xulu sorcerer was the cause of his death. The Xulu in question is still under investigation. They still have not found him. In the report, it is said that he caused this incident to execute a ritual. Thankfully, the Mercenaries hired by the Valencourt family were able to stop it in time before everyone died... It is said that a large majority of the people in that caravan had passed away and the goods they were carrying were mostly destroyed."

The man continued to stare at Librarium Celestium as he stroked his mustache. "No matter... I have 3 more sons, all of whom are more competent than him. His death will be useful. Send a message to the Valencourt family, asking for compensation. Their financials have already tanked heavily from this situation. If we apply more pressure, acquiring their capital at discounted prices will be a fairly easy endeavor..."

The butler bit his lips. "Unfortunately... I cannot do that..."

The noble man furrowed his eyebrows. "Lannister. Explain to me why you cannot."

The butler hesitated for a bit. "It is because of why your son, Trevor, died..."

"I have no patience for these games. Be out with it already."

"According to the report of our spies, Before Trevor's final moment, he had decided to attack the two honorable ladies of the Valencourt house with lustful intentions..."

"..." Veins began to protrude out of the man's forehead as he began to squeeze on his wineglass. It exploded into hundreds of shards immediately.

"That useless bastard!" Energy began to escape his body as a flood of cosmic force from an 8.67 dimensional being crashed against all living entities in the vicinity. The buildings began to shake from the pressure.

"Lord Philippe de Blanc! Calm your nerves! The servants won't be able to handle it!"

"How can I, Lannister?! That bastard... That Bastard! Could he not have just died normally?! Why is he so useless!"

"Honorable Lord! The Ritual! It was said to have the abilities of desire amplification! Due to this foul magic, your son unfortunately could not hide his inner emotions!"

"I don't care for excuses! I want results! Go! I want you to figure out a way to make sure that the Valencourt family cannot use this against us! It is time we cut our losses."

The servant bowed. "Your words are my command!" Immediately, he turned around and closed to the door to the grand hall, leaving the nobleman alone in silence. With wine dripped from his hand, he began to stare at the hustle and bustle of the city outside his window.

"Lucien Valencourt... It seems I will need to hold back once more..."

...

Several hours had elapsed since Hermes' arrival in the sacred city. Initially, survivors were meticulously screened, undergoing questioning and a thorough quarantine protocol to ensure their well-being in light of potential contamination from the mutant corpses. Extensive cosmic force examinations revealed no traces of corruption, alleviating concerns of imminent danger. Once Hermes had provided enough information to the officials, he found himself granted autonomy, free to navigate the city as he pleased.

Stepping out of the facility, Hermes began to look up at the sky, as the tall spires surrounded his vision, masking the sun. Vehicles of different designs flew in formations normally. His nostrils were invaded by the familiar scent of candles.

As Hermes glanced downward, the source of the enchanting fragrance came into focus. Rows of candles, their flames flickering in hues of deep crimson, adorned the sidewalks like beacons, casting a regal aura akin to the ceremonial paths of monarchs. Amidst this ethereal glow, men and women, draped in resplendent attire, gracefully treaded the streets, exuding an air of elegance and nobility as they passed by.

Their gaze was fixed upon the promise of the future. It was evident to Hermes that he now stood amidst the affluent quarters of the city. Chimneys belched plumes of smoke, carrying tantalizing aromas from street-side eateries, teasing his senses with their delectable offerings. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, momentarily clouding his thoughts until the realization struck: he possessed no currency to partake in such indulgences. His lips curled into a frown.

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"Huh? You finished the inspections fairly quickly." A familiar voice sounded from behind. He turned to face it.

Mason, smoking a cigar, walked up to him. "Lance, Frederick and John will be done in a bit as well. Would you like to head with us to the Mercenary Guild? We received a guarantee of payment from the Valencourt family."

Hermes nodded. "I see. Ill come with you guys then. I need help to find my way through this city."

Mason laughed. "Of course, of course! We can order drinks as well later!"

Hermes' frown deepened. 'There is no escaping this, huh?' He sighed and decided to accept his fate. Suddenly, a voice interrupted their conversation.

"Yo, Hermes." A familiar face came into view. A pair of emerald green eyes looked in his direction. The man's luscious, black hair swept in the direction of the wind.

Hermes smiled. "Hey Lance. Where are the others?"

"They are behind me." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. Hermes was able to see both John and Frederick walking down the steps of the front entrances side by side.

Mason took another puff of his cigar. "It seems everyone is here. The remaining mercenaries from our group have already left ahead of us. Disrespectful bastards. It's like I am not even their leader!"

Lance shook his head. "Give them a break, old man. They just came back from hell itself. I'm sure they'll come crawling back tomorrow after they've squandered all their money on their favorite courtesans."

John sighed. "I wouldn't want to be here either right now. I am sure Emily is bawling her eyes out at this moment, missing her dear father. You bunch of drunks don't matter to me."

Lance chuckled. "I heard she is all the way in Rudwell's district. Something about a date with my brother."

"..."

Mason walked up to him and patted his shoulder. "It's alright, brother. All birds grow wings at some point. Here, take a cigarette."

John accepted the offer and began to ignite it. "Lance, you remember that Quantum Gearwork I gifted to your brother, right?"

Lance frowned. "Yeah... What about it?"

"I used [Backdoor-Security] on it. If that bastard ever hurts my precious angel..." The veins on his forehead protruded out.

"Pfff..." Lance tried his absolute best to hold himself back. "Shouldn't you be happy that your daughter is happy?"

John crossed his arms. "Hmph..."

Hermes listened to their conversation in confusion. He decided to ask Frederick, who was standing next to him. "What is [Backdoor-Security]?"

Hearing his query, Frederick smiled. "It's, y'see, an ability Celestial Engineers 'ave. They can leave an Atomnium signature on the gadgets they craft to 'andle any misuse. This is to prevent the person in question from 'arming the craftsmen with their own creations, y'know."

Hermes pondered for a moment before nodding his head. The conversation carried on for a bit longer before they all ended up walking along the street. Hermes looked up the street sign; the Luminaric symbols read 'Saint Wisdom Avenue'.

As they traversed the bustling street, a tram rattled past, its compartments brimming with civilians hastening to their workplaces. Hermes remained captivated by the surroundings, his senses attuned to snippets of conversation drifting amidst the crowd.

"Did you hear? It seems the Valencourt family's caravan was attacked by a mutant rampage..." Whispers of gossip floated to his ears, carrying tales of tragedy. "I heard! Such a tragic situation. So many of the soldiers died..."

"I heard the two noble ladies made it out alive." Another voice chimed in, injecting a glimmer of hope. "Indeed. What did you expect, Madam? They are nobles. The Monarch has given them their blessing."

"Indeed... Bless the monarch..."

Amidst the murmurs, various opinions emerged. Some expressed discontent with the Guardians for perceived negligence, while others directed blame towards the Valencourt family for inadequate preparation. The cacophony of voices enveloped Hermes and his fellow mercenaries.

"Sigh. I didn't think the news would spread this quickly. The Valencourt family will be in a lot of trouble for the next few weeks or months..." Lance looked up at the skyline as he walked forward.

Mason interjected. "It is what it is. Journalists live and die by this kind of information. I expected it."

Lance shook his head. "Yeah, there is nothing we can do. I am sure lady Eleanor and Elara will be fine. Eleanor's demeanor after this trip, It has definitely changed for the better. Hopefully she can succeed her father early."

John took a puff of his cigar. "Do you guys think they will cancel "Saint Wisdom's Day? Such a big tragedy has occurred..."

Mason decided to answer. "It will depend on the king's reaction." The disdain in his voice was evident to everyone in the group.

'The king...' Hermes stayed silent.

Lance shook his head. "Sigh, this country is doomed..."

John interjected. "Compared to Rudwell... I have to agree. Though, with the ministers by his side, I am sure it will be fine." He then looked at Mason. "Captain, be careful what you say when you go drinking later."

Mason waved his hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, yeah. I got it. My lips are sealed."

Hearing his declaration, they all sighed to themselves, knowing full well how easily he will go back on his words later. After crossing a few streets, they made it to their destination. A large building, augmented with circuitry on its walls, came into view. A door sign that reads, "Mercenary Guild & Inn" became visible.

The moment Hermes stepped inside, the vicious smell of alcohol invaded his nostrils. Tables were scattered all across the hall as mercenaries in all kinds of attires laughed and conversed. Lance patted his shoulder. "Alright, let's go get our reward."

They walked up to the receptionist's desk and stated their names.

"Greetings, miss. I am the captain of the Ironclad Mercenary Group. Here is my badge."

She smiled. "I see, and I am guessing those gentlemen with you are a part of your group as well?"

"Yes, except for him." He pointed in Hermes' direction. The receptionist nodded. "Understood. Sir, could you give me your name and badge, please?"

"Yes, no problem. My name is Hermes Wilson." He pulled the badge out of his coat's shoulder epaulet and handed it to her. The golden emblem of a cross on a pile of coins glistened in the light.

Running it through her machine, she began to confirm his information. "Hermes Wilson, Gold-rank mercenary. Born and raised in Orion Township. 25 years of age. Is this correct, sir?"

Hermes did not understand what his residence meant or where it was on the map, but he decided to nod, anyway. The receptionist smiled. "It says here that an amount of 4,650,677 Sanctum has been added to your account. Would you like me to keep it in your account, or convert it into hard currency?"

'Sanctum? I see... So Sanctuary City simply recreated the Marcia Empire's currency...'

He smiled in her direction. "Keep it in my account." Mason smiled and patted his shoulder. "Haha, see? Even with the financial situation going on, the Valencourt family is highly respectable. They will honor any and all promises they make."

Hermes nodded and placed his badge back on his coat. After a few minutes, everyone in the group had finished speaking to the receptionist and received what they were owed. They went to an empty table and ordered a few beers. Hermes sat to the left of Mason, who wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

"Kid, it's a big day for you! Receiving that much money as a Gold-rank mercenary is highly commendable! I wouldn't be surprised if they decide to promote you into Platinum-rank soon."

Hermes kept his smile while staring at the piss-colored beer glass in his hand. 'It's not like any of it matters... I only have about 4 days left before this trial ends...'

He decided to address everyone in the group. "Thank you, everyone. I am glad you all made it out alive. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" For just a brief moment, they had all forgotten their sorrows.

End of Chapter