Linden sat in front of a table. He rolled the blood core around and between his fingers. About seventy blood cores lay strewn about on the table. His father had sent him those blood cores about two months ago. He had yet to use them. The truth was, he did not want to use them.Linden wanted to hunt down the monsters with blood cores by himself and use those cores to cultivate. He did not want to use his family name to advance faster without a proper foundation. He knew his parents would not like his decision. But they never did, did they?Besides, it wasn’t just about the blood core. If he wanted to improve his abilities, he needed to be in the thick of battles. Linden had already learned as much as he could about listening to the music of Fate. If he wanted to improve further, he needed to fight in battles. Actual battles, not some training sessions. He did not know how to convince his father about this.Speaking of the devil, the guard outside the door announced his father. The door
Chris and the group wondered about the thoroughfare, searching for the place to cash in the cores they had. Chris scanned her surroundings, looking for the signboard. “It should be around here,” she mumbled. She was holding the map of the tribe. The guard was generous enough to give her the map of the place. Chris was aware of the strange stares people were throwing at them. Those stares weren’t unfounded. They were wondering about the streets looking like a vagabond, after all. They looked worse than a street urchin with their unwashed bodies covered in dirt, grime, and dried blood, and their foul stench did not help either. The wounds, tattered clothes, and disheveled hair equally covered in smudges of blood and dirt played a part in those stares, too. Chris saw the signboard she was looking for. “There,” she pointed and dragged the two of her friends along with her. They climbed the marbled stairs and entered the room, labeled “Core Exchange.” Selling a core of ordinary level wa
“Oh, come on, you can do better than that.” Sigmund Young, the son of the alchemist, slapped the table.“Stop hitting my table, boy.” The shopkeeper snarled. “Do you want the sum to go down?”“You swine of a leaching vermin. I want my rightful pay. I have rights.”The shopkeeper shook his head. “You lost those rights three years ago. Because of your father’s traitorous act. The price is the same, four ordinary copper. I am doing you a favour, boy. No one else would buy a potion from you. I’m the only reason you can eat nowadays. You should be thanking me, not shouting at me.”Sigmund looked at the ordinary copper coins in the shopkeeper’s hand and snatched them. “My father is not a traitor. He would never do something like that.” Sigmund walked away, muttering under his breath.“Whatever you say, boy. Whatever you say.”Sigmund walked back towards his home with his hunched back. His father was not a traitor! Five of the best warriors of the tribe had been injured three years ago. Th
Sigmund did not know why, but he was very pleased with himself, watching the bewildered expression on Edwin’s and Chris’s faces. For some reason, Jimmy looked unimpressed. His house was a three-story stone structure with a flat roof. Long lines of nursery surrounded the house, which was used to grow herbs. “We weren’t as rich as the elders of the tribe and the merchants, but we were still rich. Father was one of the best alchemists in the tribe, after all.” “I don’t understand,” Chris said. “If you have this much land and property, why were you struggling for a few coins?” “I needed it to buy food. I have land, but no food. I could harvest them by myself, but they never sell me anything with seed or something that I can harvest. They cannot punish my father. So they satisfy themselves by tormenting me.” “But they still sell you food.” Sigmund nodded. “I just have to pay them more than the food is worth.” Sigmund led them into the house. His house was depressingly empty. “I had t
It had surprised Rina at how easy it was to join the Aether tribe—or at least at the list of potential recruits. The grisly old man in the tent had said there would be exams but after a year of training and education. He said it was a chance everyone deserved. Almost everyone. He had emphasised the word ‘almost,’ though.She looked at the surrounding people. Erin, Edwin, Jimmy, and Sigmund. They called Sigmund a son of a traitor. Though she doubted it. There was some foul play going on there.When she had first arrived at the tribe, Sigmund’s father had taken care of her and tended her wounds. She had arrived at this tribe, blooded and almost dead. But Sigmund’s father had brought her back to full health. She also remembered Sigmund, who had also taken care of her a few nights, though he did not seem to remember her.She was grateful to his father, and she would repay that favor to him someday. She had tried to help him many times over the last three years. But the watching eyes of th
Christopher David Vancorg, the patriarch of the Vancorg tribe, stood tall behind a massive arched window—watching the thoroughfare that led to and from his Palace. He watched the hubbub of men, waggons, and sedan chairs. “Do you know how much I had had to sacrifice to maintain my position as the Patriarch of the tribe? Messenger boy?”“This servant will never know the depths of your sacrifice, my Lord. We can only appreciate it, never knowing.”‘At least he knows how to talk.’ Christopher thought.Christopher looked at his own reflection in the window. He had black eyes, short black hair and a brown complexion. Nothing impressive aside from his muscular build. Thankfully, his body had no visible scars. All of them were hidden beneath his clothes.Christopher turned. He stared at the scrawny boy, who was probably no older than sixteen summers. “What message have you, boy?”“Our troops sent to the four tribes have the same message, My Lord.”Christopher cracked an eye. “Which is?”“Your
Christopher puffed on his pipe even as he watched the elders working outside the camp, ordering the men to do things properly. The camps were hidden in the hills from the Windhowlers. The small dell below the hills was the Windhowlers’ territory. Christopher knew about the Windhowlers before. However, their alpha wasn’t at the body transition at the time. The wind howlers had cornered another monster at Body Transition Realm with a wind core. His scout had seen the wolf advance himself after eating the other monster’s core. As the monster had just recently advanced, it shouldn’t be much stronger than himself. From what he had read about the Body Transition Realm from the tombs—only he had access to. Advancing to that realm, cleansed your body for further improvement and increase the capacity and quality of the cores. It was his only chance to hunt the Windhowler. If he failed this time, it would grow too strong for him to handle. Christopher shook his head. There was no point in th
Armin moved around the command tents, noting the position of the six elders he had to assassinate today. He counted each of the six elders, studying the number of personnel they had around them, and—of course, their exact location in each of the camp. It was difficult to sneak about the camp to study the elders undetected. However, his powers allowed him to do just that rather easily.These six elders he was planning to kill today were plotting a rebellion against the Patriarch Christopher’s rule. Armin would have helped the rebellion if he could, just to kill that fanatic. However, his core binding oath to the man prevented him from doing anything rash. Even having a traitorous thought against Christopher gave him a splitting headache.Armin liked his family alive. Otherwise, he would have broken this oath a long time ago. Christopher would definitely wipe out his family if he dared to cross the man. Someday, somewhere, someone would kill Christopher and free him from his misery. Tha