Rieren joined the rest of the audience in applauding after the battle was over. It was mostly directed at Kalvia, of course. The way she had claimed victory was worthy of applause.
Even Cerill didn’t seem to mind that that he had been defeated. When Kalvia finally released him after the match was called in her favour, he slowly rose and offered a short bow to his victorious opponent. They parted amicably, similar to how Rykion and Oromin had departed after their match, like the old friends that they were.
Rieren was tempted to find a way to congratulate them both, especially Kalvia, on a bout well played, but she recalled her last efforts at doing so. No, her time was better spent elsewhere.
Such as writing up a message for Starloper.
Later that day, she had managed to acquire a messenger Spirit Beast, courtesy of her friends who wanted to send her a missive. Rieren had read through it quickly—they wanted to meet because they had important information about recent incidents.
She had tied her own writeup about what Elder Olg had told her, in a cryptic way just as her friends had done to her, and sent it off with the glowing blue Spirit Beast.
Then she had departed to meet Silomene.
“No Mercion?” Rieren asked, glancing between Silomene and Amalyse. It was a little odd, considering Mercion was usually the most gung-ho about all this.
“No Lord Mercion,” Silomene confirmed with a shake of her head. “He has unfortunately mired himself in a bit of trouble.”
Rieren frowned. “Nothing serious, I hope.”
“Well…”
Silomene went on to tell Rieren the wild tale of Lord Mercion the formerly possessed. Apparently, he had taken his investigation of the incident with the Arisen murdering the Archnoble Aryoventos scion rather seriously. Eventually, he had even found proof that there had indeed been some sort of manipulation from the human side of the matter to cause such an incident.
It turned out, the one behind the murder was actually Remis Sharan. She had enticed the Aryoventos scion to head towards the braziers for a clandestine meeting, regarding the monsters. Mercion hadn’t found proof of whether she had lured in the monster as well to set up the conflict fully or not, but the fact that she had a hand in the human’s death was incriminating enough.
“Ha, I knew it.” Rieren almost felt like grinning fiercely, but the actual feeling was muted as ever, and it would have been inappropriate to boot. Though, the clue Mercion had discovered was odd. “He found a letter at the murder site?”
“It would seem so.”
“So strange…”
Amalyse nodded thoughtfully, hand under her chin. “You would think the perpetrator wouldn’t leave something like that lying around.”
“Unless it was out of her hand,” Rieren said. “For all we know, she might have expected the scion to leave the letter behind in his camp instead of carrying it with him. I assume he threw it away or lost it in the heat of the moment during his altercation.”
“Right, that’s also a possibility.”
Silomene handed the crumpled up letter to Rieren for her to check. It had been a long while since Rieren had seen Remis Sharan’s handwriting, but it certainly looked familiar enough.
Rieren turned back to Silomene. “But Lord Mercion was actually found out?”
She nodded. “To find more proof, he actually attempted to sneak around at the Aryoventos camp, and was quickly discovered by the culprit herself. He says she attempted to kill him outright, so now he is sheltering behind the Clanmistress’s favour.”
Ah. That sounded like what Rieren would expect out of the two of them. Mercion foolhardily going too far and Remis Sharan responding with violence at the slightest sniff of an enemy. After all, that blasted woman had tried to kill Rieren too.
But it also made sense that she had eventually backed off after Mercion had gotten to the Clanmistress. In their battle, she had left when Kalvia had been about to witness it too.
Strange how she was generally so distrustful of nobles yet had aligned herself with an Archnoble.
“We need to find a way to present this proof to the Aryoventos Clanmaster,” Rieren said. “And I have a sinking suspicion it will not work if it comes from me.”
Amalyse scowled a little. “The way this Sharan has him wrapped around her finger, I don’t think anyone can make him see something she doesn’t want him to see.”
“Not even if we push the matter from higher up?”
Both Amalyse and Silomene stared at Rieren. She smiled. The idea wasn’t bad. Where they were too lowly—even Amalyse and Silomene, scions of powerful clans in their own right—it was a different matter if it came from the leaders of their respective clans.
“He would certainly need to pay it greater notice,” Silomene said. “But why would we go after such information in the first place?”
That was a good question. None of them had any reason to look deeper into the matter.
“We need to establish a believable trail of events,” Rieren said. “After all, we need to present how we found the evidence we have gathered so far.”
Amalyse smiled. “That’s easy. The tournament administrators are in charge of the upkeep of the grounds, right? When one of them was cleaning up the murder site, they found that letter. Since they’re in no better a position to bring it forward than us—worse, in fact—they needed to present it to someone who could do something with it.”
“Ah, that works. We just need to find a corroborator—” She paused. Then grinned. “Starloper.”
“Exactly.”
That took care of that part of their plan. Silomene had mentioned how Clanmistress Avathene was already aware of the particulars of the matter and was willing to support them as well. Still. They would need to discuss the entire issue with her directly before they took any action.
“We’re still waiting on the other matter, right?” Amalyse asked. “I still don’t know how we can find the right clan leader who is supposed to ascend.”
“Do your Clanmasters or Clanmistresses have no idea?” Rieren asked.
Silomene shrugged with a little uncomfortable look on her face. She wasn’t on good terms with her family.
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“I asked mother,” Amalyse said. “But no, she has no idea. The strongest among the Archnoble Clanmasters are those of the Karlosyne, Aryoventos, Arteroth, and Sanzier clans. All of them have been at Peak-Ascendant for years now.”
“Aryoventos, eh?”
It was curious how that lined up.
They could theorize further about who it was among those Archnobles who looked most likely to advance to the Fated realm. It wasn’t an easy matter, after all. They needed a vast amount of resources to hasten their Essence collection, set up the right tribulation that they could progress through, and then be prepared for the fallout of being the strongest cultivator in the Elderlands.
But conjecture without something concrete to go off of had little meaning. They would need further information about each of the Archnobles, something that was a little difficult to obtain.
For now, Rieren nodded her thanks at her friends and left. They promised to schedule a meeting with Clanmistress Avathene and take it from there. Rieren was looking forward to that a little. She hadn’t spoken directly with Avathene since her transformation into her current state. It would be… interesting, to say the least.
But her thoughts about that were cut short when she arrived back at her little glen. She had a guest awaiting her. Someone she hadn’t at all expected.
Silvas Fraile was sitting with his back to a tree.
“Hello, Rieren,” he said.
Up close, his voice was a lot more familiar than the loud rendition she had heard in the arena. Soft, like the veil he normally wore over his tanned face whenever he was fighting. There was no veil now, just the blue robes and the strange white linen-wrap hat with the flat top.
“I was not expecting a visit, Silvas,” Rieren said. She took her position in front of a tree opposite the one Silvas had claimed, leaning against its trunk much as her guest was doing. “But I am not displeased.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Should your displeasure trump my desire to have a meeting?”
“Well, we will never find out, since, as I said, I am not displeased.”
“Yes, that answers my question perfectly.”
“Dry as ever, I see.”
His laugh was short, cut off rapidly in favour of continuing the conversation. “I thought you would be a lot more different after what everyone keeps saying. And don’t mistake me, you are. But you’re also…” He smiled. “Mostly the same person I used to know.”
Rieren smiled back. “Mostly, is it?”
“Well, you must admit that you look rather demonic.”
“So I have been told.”
They stared at each other for a moment, neither willing to advance the little chat further into actual important matters. Though perhaps they didn’t really need to. What they had talked about so far was enough to deliver assurances that they were still the same overall, wasn’t it? That they were both who they had known each other to be in the previous timeline.
Apparently, Silvas thought not. “I would have tried to contact you earlier, had you been more forthcoming about where you were originally from.”
It made Rieren wonder if she’d been paranoid in her last life too, or if she just hadn’t cared enough to reveal it. She and Silvas certainly hadn’t had the time for heart-to-heart chats about their origins and how that had had shaped them to be the individuals they were.
Honestly, at this point, she barely remembered. Had her interactions with Silvas been part of the memories she had sacrificed to Batcat?
No, that had come much later. She had only given the kitten the memories of what she couldn’t recall any specifics about. Such as her time at Lionshard Sect in the previous timeline, and the times she had flown on Dawn Cloud and used her Floating Blade.
“I appreciate the thought,” Rieren said. “I certainly had no way of contacting you, and so, I never bothered.”
Another little snort. “Typical.”
“Practical.”
“Yes, well, I gather you have been busy anyway. I doubt you’d have had the time to chat with little old me while you were off saving sects and entire regions from apocalyptic threats.”
Rieren smiled again. A small pinprick of self-satisfaction pierced the deadness within her. “You could say that, I suppose.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what about you? Busy reclaiming the title they so love to throw at you?”
It was his turn to smirk. “Well, you know, it’s hard work being a Saint and all.”
“A Sword Saint, no less.”
“I took care of most of the dungeons that were pouring out the monsters.” He didn’t look serious, mostly just thoughtful. “Pretty certain that I actually destroyed all of them entirely, if I’m not wrong. But anyway, the Direlands are safe from any monsters now.”
That suggested Silvas had grown quite powerful. Well, Rieren had already enough evidence of that from both her past timeline experiences and the battles she had seen so far in the Trials of Ascendance. She wouldn’t be surprised to hear he was already at Late-Exalted like her too, besides also having his class at a high level like her.
“I’m curious, however,” Silvas said. He splayed a lazy hand at her. “How did you become… that, Rieren?”
“Long story.”
“Trip through the Abyss, I take it?”
“And subsequent manipulation by another monster.”
“Which one? Someone powerful enough to manipulate you…” He shook his head with a little smile. “Well, we would have dealt with it before, wouldn’t we have?”
“A new one, I am certain,” Rieren said. He was right. If she had known about the Gravemark Puppeteer from the previous timeline, things would have been tremendously simpler. “A monster blessed by the gods.”
For just a moment, Silvas’s face darkened. “Ah.”
If anyone hated the gods and their meddling and their attempt to hoard the system as much as Rieren, it was Silvas Fraile. Well, there was Remis Sharan too, but insanity didn’t count.
Silvas got to his feet. His blue robes rippled around him like they were silk. “Well, this was a nice chat, Rieren.”
“Agreed. I appreciate you coming over.”
“Mm. One last thing.” He glanced at her. Glanced up at her. When was she going to get used to the fact that she was taller than nearly everyone now? “What’s your ultimate goal here?”
“Just making sure, are we?”
“Just making sure.”
“Same as always. Vanharron and the imperial court.”
Silvas smiled. “Good goal.”
“And one last thing from me as well.”
“Hmm?”
“Have you heard about the Emperor ascending? About the Banishedborn’s plan? About the Dreadflood waiting outside the tournament grounds?”
He looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression. Maybe he was wondering where she had gained all that information. It was obvious enough that he wasn’t surprised by anything that he had heard, which meant he knew about them all already.
“I’m hoping to be done with all that soon,” he said.
“Done with all that?”
“My goal is the same as yours, Rieren. You know that. Everything going on here is a distraction. A way to pull our focus onto this moment, give us a false sense of accomplishment when we attain all that we want here. The bastards will use that to secure themselves some safety elsewhere. We can’t allow that, now can we?”
He had grown quite intense over that little speech of his, but at the end, his soft smile returned. Silvas didn’t let his intensity take a hold of him for long. That was only reserved for truly trying times.
“I was seeing it as an important stepping-stone,” Rieren said. “Accomplishments here will push us towards our true goal, in time.”
“Perhaps. But I am still suspicious of their intent.” He turned to leave, offering a farewell as he did so with a wave of his hand. “May fortune favour our steps, Rieren.”
She echoed the same. “May the best one win.”
Silvas paused for a second. He turned around again, an eyebrow raised challengingly. “The deserved one, yes?”
“Do you believe you deserve to win over me?”
“Well, I have a plan to lead us to the gates of Vanharron and tear out the roots of corruption from within its bowels.” That challenging look of his didn’t go away. “Do you have any such plan?”
A good point. What amorphous plans Rieren had entertained had gone out the window when she had learned that the old Emperor was no longer here. But instead, she had something else she could count on this time. Something that past Rieren hadn’t acquired as deeply.
“I might not have a plan, Silvas,” she said. “But I have something just as important this time.”
“Oh?”
“People who care.”
Silvas stared at her. His face gave nothing away. “And you think that makes you deserve to win? Do you believe your path will secure us the victory that we need?”
“Is that what it is, then? A contest to see which of our paths is right?”
“What else was it ever, Rieren?” He shook his head and began leaving again. “Forget the best. The righteous one will win. See you later.”
Rieren watched his departing back, wondering where they actually stood. He would be an ally she could count on, that was for certain. But the path that Silvas intended to take… that was something she hadn’t aligned herself with yet. Something she wasn’t sure she wanted to follow.
Not when that path would require her to abandon everything.
Another strange epiphany hit her. Rieren had begun the second round of the tournament with the express belief that it didn’t matter who was on her side. She would go on to achieve her ultimate goals all the same.
Yet now, after she had salvaged some of her relationships and discovered that were still intact, she didn’t want to go at it alone.
Rieren could win. Rieren could achieve it all. And she could do it with those she cared about. She was certain.