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Two men were clashing blades.

Although, more accurately, one was trying to show off his skills to the other.

“That’s enough,” said Alfred.

“Thank you, Sir Ujath,” Croix said from the side. “We’ll inform you of our decision.”

“I will be waiting for the good news.”

After the young Level 3 knight left, only then did Croix relax his posture.

“Well, how is he?” The prince said to Alfred as his hand was drawn naturally to his dragon egg.

“Slightly above average, young lord,” Alfred answered honestly. It was too important of a matter.

“Just as I thought. Even as a non-Pathseeker I can tell… Avel and Boram are stronger, aren't they?”

“Much stronger, young lord. I believe that even if there are five Ujaths' fighting Boram at the same time, Boram would win. Unless he ran out of Victa.”

“That doesn't sound promising,” Croix frowned.

“Among the bunch that signed up, he’s the best one so far. I agree he’s not enough but compared to Avel and Boram, most people would be cast under their shadow. Those two are abnormally strong,” the Level 4 explained.

“Yet if I'm to become king, there would be other people of the same caliber as those two that would bar my path.”

“That’s… very true, young lord.”

The two fell silent and went to the deep recesses of their minds.

For the trip to Archion Volcano, Croix and Alfred tried to seek people that could assist them in reaching that dangerous place. There was no Adventurers’ Guild in Latias, Pathseeker were absorbed into Knightly Orders or as vassals to other lords and ladies. Those that remained independent were mostly mercenaries that had poorer reputations and status compared to those that attached themselves to some organization. That was the local culture in Latias.

Stormberg was Croix’s aunt’s territory and most answered to her, just like Thunder Wing’s Knight Captain Malika. For the past week, Croix had been asking around while hiding his identity as a prince from the limited pool of those unaffiliated with the Countess of Stormberg.

As the bait was the limited wealth that they had, the fishes they hooked were not particularly satisfactory.

“It's pretty amazing Avel and Boram can get that strong without being affiliated,” the prince wondered. Previously he thought it was unachievable.

“If they were Latisians, I would strongly suspect they were members of the underworld, fat on fruits of their crimes. No one gets to their level out of nowhere. They have to have roots and backing. Since they are foreigners, I cannot say,” the older man with more experience said.

“...The more I think about it, the more monster-like people there are out there,” Croix sighed.

“The waters of the world run deep,” Alfred nodded. “Not all geniuses make a name for themselves and ancient experts hidden from public eyes also exist. This is without counting other races and societies… The Pathseeker’s world is the ultimate crucible. However, I do not believe you are less capable, young lord.”

“Enough with the flattery. I know full well I’m not some monstrous genius like others, that is why I must make it up using effort and by taking risks. Forging my Intio at Archion is my first step… But getting there is a trial in itself, it seems.”

“My Lord, even if it's me alone, I will make sure you reach the volcano with not a single scratch on your body. This I swear to you.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I don't doubt you but at what cost? The path to the crown is still far and I need you at my side… I suppose there’s no other choice now but to ask those two.”

“My Lord… As I said before, I have reservations concerning them. They have no loyalty towards you. Boram will do everything Avel says but from Avel I have a sense of foreboding. He is greedy and materialistic. He hides it well but he has the scent of a mass murderer. Who knows how many people he has killed in cold blood? Adding to the favor you owe him from before, he will surely ask for a sky-high price this time!”

“And so we have sought other alternatives but it bears no fruit… Taking risks, Alfred. I’m a prince in name while actually a beggar, and just like the saying, beggars can't be choosers.”

Croix would have preferred at least another Level 4 but since his aunt refused to help, there was no chance of that. He had enemies that wanted him dead. If he died, no matter what lofty ideals he had, none of it would matter. Before he awakened as a Pathseeker he would be powerless so gathering strong guards was the only thing he could do.

“Khhh… Forgive my incompetence,” Alfred said with a pained expression.

“Don't be. If anything, the fault is mine… Well, let’s visit Avel and hear what kind of price he would demand from this pauper prince, shall we?”

***

The rain continued to fall on Stormberg.

Inside one of the unassuming houses in the city, in the training room with expanded space, Boram was moving his body fiercely against a training golem. From where his master got such a thing Boram didn't know and didn't care. As always, his master was amazing, so Boram thought.

Watching his disciple’s training nearby was Viers. His eyes were closed but he was still able to watch. Most of his attention was on his inner self. Others would have assumed the master was lazing around while the disciple was hard at work but it couldn't be further from the truth. While Boram was training outside, Viers conducted his own training in his inner world, The Grid. A simulated world, where Viers could conduct his experiments and training without expending any Victa. Recently, he was able to make it so the time he spent here was twice as long as the time spent outside.

That meant Viers had double the time for his training.

At the moment, there were only two of them. Viers’ three familiars were sleeping like little babies. As non-humans, they had a somewhat different lifestyle, not needing to move their bodies physically as the two but when it was time to train, they trained diligently.

There used to be a cat living with them, but after the second enchantment-failure explosion that rocked the space inside the house, Izabella moved away to her more specialized workshop. Only sometimes coming back as a cat to rest.

Today, the wanderers had visitors knocking on their door.

“Prince Croix, Knight Alfred, how do you do? Please come in. How may I help you?”

Viers received them courteously. Invited them inside, had them sit, and offered them warm drinks. Inside his mind, he wondered if he should bind the young prince like a tied roast and offer the premium cut to an evil cult.

Blood Seraph, Blood Seraph, Blood Seraph…

After hearing what the legendary Arte could do, Viers naturally desired it… Or would it give him more benefits to continue this prince’s chain quests first before he sells?

Decisions, decisions.

Viers made up his mind to hear the prince first at least. Though, he had an inkling what it would be about.

Viers sat facing Croix while Boram was standing on his left with Alfred on his opposite. The four made up the four sides of a square.

“Then I’ll be blunt, mister Avel, I would like to ask you to be my vassal,” Croix said while looking at Viers’ eyes.

Since he was at his own home, he wasn't wearing a mask, or so others thought. Viers had removed the mask he wore during their travels but he was actually wearing the Impersonator Mask. The high-quality magic item was able to change his appearance without being caught in the act. Therefore, Viers’ real face was still hidden under the face of Avel, a burner identity of his.

“Sure.”

The reply was light and swift, like answering a trivial matter. The other three didn't expect such an answer; it was written on their faces.

“T-truly?” The prince was the most surprised of them all.

“If you can give me fair compensation, yes.”

“And what would that be? There’s no need to be reserved and speak your mind.”

“Very well, prince,” Viers put down his cup of hot tea and put his clasped hand on the table. “I shan’t mince words.”

“Hmmm… Let's make the prior reward of getting you to Stormberg combined with this one. I want to pick three items from the royal treasury of the Crimson Capital. Rumors are that the place can only be entered with permission granted by the king of Latias and the treasures piled up inside are as big as a mountain.”

“You-”

Alfred was angered by the absurd demand and was about to chastise him but Croix raised his hand and he put a brake on his words. After an inhale and a pause, Alfred spoke again with a softer tone.

“Such a price is too steep, don't you think so? If you’re a Level 5 you might warrant such a price but you’re a Level 3.”

“You can't buy an adamantium blade with a fistful of mana crystals. It's simple logic. The better the goods, the higher the price.”

“Let us go, young lord. We’d be better asking other Level 5 for this,” Alfred threatened.

“The exit is that way. Good day.”

Viers didn't bite.

Croix and Alfred didn't move. There was a reason why they were unable to simply ask famous Level 5s for help. The price Viers asked would indeed rouse some Level 5s but they were too strong. If they went back on their word and ran amok, what could Croix and Alfred do? Simply promising future wealth to a large number of Level 4 Knightly Orders similarly carried the risk.

“You would call yourself ‘goods’, mister Avel?” Croix said with a calm tone.

“Just a metaphor, doesn't really matter. You want something, I want something. It’s a simple matter. The question is, how badly do you want to be king, Prince Croix?”

And so began the haggling for the crown of Latias.

On one side, a young prince with lofty aspirations and hope for his home and people.

On the other side, was a greedy villain with a lust for power coupled with the potency of a myriad of stories.

Unbeknownst to the people in the room, Fate was heavy around them. Like an epicenter of a quake, the negotiation would have impacts on others far and wide. Such was the gravity of the situation.

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