Sunrise Alchemist, Ch 14: Crimson Shadows (Patreon)

“Come in.” Renzer frowned as he heard the knock on his door, but he called out anyway. When Heten sidled through the door, his frown turned to a scowl.

The half-sylph was one of the main appraisers for this guild branch, but that didn’t mean he liked him. He was little more than a servant, and if he hadn’t been in a good position to intercept newcomers to the guild, Renzer wouldn’t have roped him into his plan.

“What happened?” he asked as his eyes narrowed. Heten would not have come here unless something occurred. The man did his best to avoid anything resembling real work. From the look on his face, it wasn’t good.

When Heten hesitated, Renzer’s primal aura crashed down on him with the force of a hurricane, making him stagger as he supported himself against the door.

“A new heritage alchemist,” the appraiser gasped out, his face pale, “but the deputy branch manager intercepted me before I could tell you and took him away!” His words were half strangled.

“Is that all?” Renzer frowned at him as he tried to figure out why the appraiser was so nervous. “She’s a spoiled guild brat who sticks her nose into everything. So what? Why are you panicking?”

His aura pressed down on Heten again, making him shrink backward as he struggled to breathe.

A Primal Spirit cultivator’s aura was one of their strongest weapons. Their dao combined with it, creating pressure of a primal law of nature and turning it into a weapon. It was possible to have an aura like a raging river that could drown your enemies or a divine inferno that would turn them to ashes.

In Renzer’s case, he followed the Dao of a Thousand Burning Oaks. It was a heritage of Wood and Flame from his family, and it made him an exceptional alchemist. His aura was as crushing and hot as a firestorm in a forest.

He could use his aura to incinerate Heten on the spot or to crush his bones and turn him into paste, but he didn’t go that far. This was only teaching him a lesson about respect.Using it like this to punish an underling was a common thing for him, especially one like Heten who was constantly reaching above his station.

The pressure made the half-Sylph groan as he tried to stand upright, only to sink back in a half-crouch against the door.

“Your cultivation is weaker every time I see you,” Renzer muttered as he shook his head. “How can you call yourself an alchemist when you don’t have any spirit at all?”

Alchemy was a noble profession, one that covered the world in its breadth. Every type of research could fall under it. It was also the true key to cultivation and power. No other craft enabled you to turn common herbs into wondrous materials.

It was also an enormous source of wealth.

To see someone like Heten giving the profession a bad name, even if he was only an appraiser, made Renzer angry every time he saw him. He shook his head, but finally decided it was enough.

A weasel would always be a weasel.

“He’s an Imperial Knight!” Heten gasped as the pressure stopped and he raised his arms to protect himself. “He’s going to ruin everything!”

The words hung in the air, making Renzer’s frown deepen.

“Wait,” he said. With a flick of his hand, a sealing talisman appeared. It was a single-use item. As soon as he activated it, an intricate symbol formed in the air, floating above his desk.

It was expensive, but for a conversation like this, it was essential to prevent anyone from spying, even inside the guild. The wards here weren’t infallible.

“Tell me what you know,” he said as he got control of his temper. “Speak freely.”

It didn’t take long for Heten to spit out what he knew, which wasn’t much. By the time he was done, Renzer’s mood turned darker as he considered the ramifications.

“You can go,” he said as he threw a small bag of spirit stones at Heten. “That’s for the information. Do your job and don’t come here again until I tell you to. If any other heritage alchemists show up, send them to register like normal, not to me directly.”

“But the sect...” Heten interrupted questioningly. “Don’t they need them?”

He’d gathered his pride and was standing straighter now as he clutched the bag of spirit stones. At least he had that much spirit in him.

“Is not your concern,” Renzer finished as he gave Heten a warning look, but he didn’t crush him with his aura again. “You can worry when I tell you to. Now leave.”

Heten disappeared out the door, and once he was gone, Renzer sat and thought for a moment. Then he glanced up to check on the duration of the sealing talisman, which was still strong.

He composed his thoughts as he pulled a communication plate from a drawer in his desk. A specific pattern of spiritual energy caused it to glow with a dark orange light as he spoke into it.

“An Imperial Knight has appeared in the guild and registered as a heritage alchemist. His presence here is bound to cause us trouble one way or another. I’ll leave it to you to deal with him.”

With that, he withdrew his energy from the plate and put it back in the drawer. There was no response, but he knew that his message was received. The sect wouldn’t have any difficulty finding the knight.

If there was one thing the Crimson Shade Sect was good at, it was assassinations.

Sometime soon now, the knight would find himself in a trap he couldn’t escape from.

He wasn’t sure what the result of killing an Imperial Knight would be. Their order was strange and despite the vast population of the empire, there were only a few of them scattered across it. It seemed like their numbers never grew too much.

Either way, it was something the sect could deal with. His hands were clean.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop his fingers from shaking as he folded his hands on the desk. The knight’s presence wasn’t a good sign. Chaotic thoughts spun through his mind.

His arrival was probably a coincidence, but what if it wasn’t?

What if he was sent to investigate and was only keeping his head down until he found something?

Renzer tightened his grip until his knuckles went white as he forced himself to maintain a composed posture, waiting until the moment passed. He was alone in his office, but the pride of a Primal Spirit cultivator didn’t allow him to show weakness.

He wouldn’t allow a knight to interfere with his plans.

Whoever opposed him, he would crush them.

He needed the sect’s backing to make his next step toward the capital. That was the only way to build up enough of a reputation that the guild would promote him. If they wanted a few heritage alchemists in return, it didn’t matter.

Every masterful recipe needed the right ingredients.

*****

The sun rose and set as Verse continued to meditate on Wood. The remains of the low-quality spirit stones were scattered around him in translucent piles of nearly invisible dust. Now, he held a medium-grade Wood stone in each hand.

Leaves and blossoms from the courtyard were swirling in the air around him, but they weren’t ones dropped by the plants. Instead, they were fully spiritual, symbols made of vibrant green Wood energy.

The tempest of Wood increased in speed until a green tornado surrounded Verse. Flows of energy from the natural world poured toward him from the sky and earth, creating a bright emerald aura like a sun around his body.

It was an intense amount of energy, far more than what was in a hundred high-quality spirit stones, and even more than what was in the Guardian Bark and the Forest Emerald that were still in his soul space.

Lines like silver scales appeared all across his body, like an inscription that commanded the forces of nature. The gathered energy flared like a green sun as it dove into his meridians. A pulse rolled out from him like thunder, crashing through the courtyard, but it was felt more than heard.

Emerald mist rolled off his body, flooding through the area in a wave.

In response, the herbs and plants around him suddenly shot upward, growing taller and denser as if three years of growth happened in an instant. The Rank 1 herbs reached the peak of their quality and flourished, spreading their roots into new sprouts.

The new Rank 2 and 3 herbs that had just been planted a few days before sank roots deeply into the earth, taking firm hold of the dirt, and then shot upwards as well. Droplets of spiritual energy gathered around them from the emerald mist, hanging brightly on their leaves. The rich color of their stalks and buds deepened as their quality improved.

The peaceful silence of growing things settled on the courtyard.

“Success.” Verse let out a breath as he sensed the difference in the world around him.

Everything felt alive.

He could sense the movement of the grasses, the vitality flowing through the tree trunks, and the meaning in the rustle of the leaves. The spiritual herbs glowed in his mind’s eye like miniature flames, radiant and bright.

Everywhere he looked, lines of vitality were apparent. They ran through the plants and the healthy earth. They only stopped at the stone walls of the courtyard, where there were no more living things to support them.

Leaf’s natural formation glowed like a beautiful tapestry in his eyes, its lines arcing from herb to herb as energy flowed along the connections. He could sense how it was built and how the herbs supported it.

His senses were open to Wood.

The Touch of the Dao in any element was like gaining a new spiritual sense. He could feel the movement of Wood energy keenly, where it was strong and where it was weak.

It felt right, as if something that always should have been a part of him had finally awoken. The emerald mist all throughout the courtyard was spiraling in response to his breath, in a slow cycle.

Wood was part of his bloodline. Now, the element was finally within reach. It might have been difficult for some to reach this point, but for him it was just a matter of waking up a sense that had always been sleeping.

Soon, he would be able to apply this new sense to his alchemy. It would give him finer control and the ability to make careful improvements to the mixture as he worked. The quality of his healing paste should shoot up.

As he looked around, he knew that all of the plants in the courtyard were healthy. Nothing was touched by even the slightest mark of sickness.

That was thanks to Leaf’s presence. The little elemental was still seated directly across from him, watching his breakthrough. His angular features gave him a fierce look, making him seem almost draconic and the ridged edges of his mouth were like fangs as he grinned.

He raised his head off his paws as he stared at Verse, his eyes glowing.

The elemental was a dense emerald blur in his mind’s eye now, one that felt like ancient wood and vitality, but he had the feeling that he could only see that because Leaf wanted him to.

“Good,” the elemental said simply. His voice a rustle of leaves and grass in the wind, barely noticeable. There was a distinctly amused tone to it.

It was hard to place the age of his voice. It was both sweet like a youth and raspy like an old man. It seemed to move between the two like the wind blowing through the forest.

“You spoke!’ Verse laughed as he watched the elemental. “I knew you could do it!”

“Until now...didn’t listen,” the elemental grumbled in response. His phrasing was haphazard and came in pulses rather than complete thoughts, but it was easy enough to understand.

“You mean I can hear you now because of the Dao of Wood?” Verse asked with his attention fixed on the elemental.

“Yes?” Wood tilted his head to the side as if asking a question, and then he continued rotating until his head was completely sideways. It was comical and made him seem like a cat who was rolling over and got stuck halfway.

Then he lost interest in the subject. He twisted straight again and laid his snout down on his claws as he watched Verse with his eyes half open.

“What next?” he asked curiously.

“Wind, probably,” Verse said as he dusted the remains of the spirit stones off his robes and stood up. He stored away the remaining spirit stones in front of him at the same time. “But first, something to drink and a chance to stretch my legs. Do you want to go celebrate?”

“Yes,” Leaf agreed with an instant head bob. “Food.”

His words were simple, but the thoughts that came with them were complex, like metaphors for the world itself. The idea of food was a layer of concepts around spiritual energy, the complex signature of herbs full of vitality, the taste of leaf and bark and loam, and even a sense of passing time as the herbs grew into their strength, which seemed to be added like a piquante spice for seasoning.

He meant they tasted better when they were older. Verse chuckled as he figured that out.

The scales on Leaf’s body reflected the glow of Wood energy through the courtyard as he stretched, arching his back like a cat. He turned into a blur that reappeared on Verse’s shoulder, where he let out a burbling chirp of agreement.

Verse looked around the courtyard, admiring the flow of energy that Leaf had created. As he studied it, an idea occurred to him for the Forest Emerald and Guardian Bark he had left over, as well as the rest of the elemental spirit stones he didn’t need.

He’d been building the foundation for his Nine Dragon Meridian Art for a while, using the natural energy of the world to expand his meridians and strengthen his body. Now that he’d reached a basic understanding of Wood, he could take the next step.

The art required an enormous amount of vitality to improve, and Wood was the best element to absorb to support it. Those two treasures would be useful, as would the leftover Wood spirit stones and the natural formation here.

The first level of the art was called First Dragon Breathing. It focused on drawing in energy from the world and attuning himself to the natural dao. That allowed him to strengthen his bloodline and body. It also improved his healing and regeneration of spiritual energy. It had strong crossovers with insight into nature and the elements.

Perhaps with these items, and some time gathering Wood energy, he could make some progress.

The art had nine layers. Each of them corresponded to a unique dragon meridian through his body, basically creating a new one that wasn’t there before. Doing that required a vast amount of energy and time, but the result was even better.

According to the shrine, each meridian was supposed to give him the strength of a true dragon. When he finished all of them, he would have the strength of nine dragons. He chuckled as he looked around the courtyard.

He wasn’t sure exactly how much power that was in modern terms, but the time it took to progress in the art was certainly equivalent.

It was slow.

So far, he was only a small way into forming his first meridian, perhaps around 10% or a bit less, but even that brought a great increase in strength. He was lean and muscular, but his physical strength was around a realm higher than his cultivation, near the peak of the Aligned realm.

Plans drifted through his mind as he patted Leaf on the head and turned for the door. It was late in the evening now, but the restaurant down the street would still be open. He just needed to get there soon.

At that moment, however, his movement was halted by a scratching sensation that crawled across his mind. It was coming from the echo of a spiritual imprint he’d created. It was also unwelcome and very familiar, since he’d just built the formation that was causing it.

It was a warning from the wards on the house.

His expression darkened as he swept his senses across his home. Surging flames gathered across his body. They were a mixture of colors, primarily golden with an edge of crimson and silver, but also touched with emerald as anger ignited in his heart and awoke his bloodline.

On his shoulder, Leaf hissed in agreement and his claws tightened on Verse’s shoulder. The flames were part of Verse’s will and didn’t harm him. They only made the elemental’s scales gleam with forest hues and gave him a fiercer appearance.

“Intruders,” the shrine agreed as it scanned the area. It had access to the formation and its experience with it was far more adept than Verse’s. “They’re climbing over the rear wall now.”

The words came at the same time as Verse sensed their presence. There were two of them, their figures shrouded in darkness and a strange reddish aura that was only perceptible at the edge of his awareness. He wasn’t sure who they were, but the red aura gave him a certain suspicion.

One he would examine later.

First, he needed to deal with them.

Since they were able to penetrate the wards, they had to have a strong background. They would have needed a Primal Spirit-level talisman to conceal themselves this well. Their own strength, however, was unlikely to be that high.

Based on the telltales they left while passing through the wards, their cultivation was probably in the Aligned realm. If they’d been stronger, the wards wouldn’t have detected them at all with their skills. They also wouldn’t have needed to be so stealthy.

Instead of being alarmed by the intrusion, a slight smile crossed his face. It had been a while since he’d had a fight. He wasn’t the same young knight who had struggled so much back in Whitestone to deal with a single Aligned-realm adept.

A flicker of will summoned a golden spear into his hand, one that he’d acquired a few months before from some bandits. It was an Aligned weapon and engraved with swirling clouds along its length, as well as the suggestion of wings, which was one of the reasons he’d kept it.

He didn’t know where the bandits had acquired it, but it was made from a high-quality material called Flowing Gold, and it had some flexibility as well as a solid weight. The inscriptions on it could have been better, but the main thing was that it was able to stand up to his strength.

A flicker of will along his connection to the formation converted the wards to a concealment and containment structure, one that was designed to seal off the area and prevent anyone outside from sensing what was happening here.

At the same time, glowing emerald mist filled the courtyard around him, mixing with the flames that were hovering along his skin. He turned his attention to the back wall and he watched as two shadowy figures dropped down into the courtyard.

They were being cautious and their movements were slow, but as soon as they were inside the house, they noticed him standing there. There was only a moment of hesitation as they stared at him in shock, but they were well-trained and it didn’t last for long.

They threw themselves forward like two bolts of dark lightning, their movements blending into shadows that hung around them. They had to be at Touch of the Dao with the Shadow or Darkness element.

Unfortunately for them, the courtyard was the domain of Wood, and their shadows had no place to hide. They were highlighted against the background of the verdant green energy of the herbs.

“Leaf, protect the courtyard from the battle,” Verse sent. The instruction made the elemental disappear from his shoulder as he faded into the background.

Two streaks of dark blades shot out from the first assassin as a cloud of grey poisonous smoke exploded from the second. The smoke billowed outward, trying to fill the courtyard, but its progress was slow.

Verse swept his spear through the air in front of him, knocking the first blade out of the way with a harsh clang of metal, but the second one was staggered closely behind it and he couldn’t bring the spear around again in time.

Instead, a circular formation of bright silver symbols sprang up from his left hand, forming a shield that he used to deflect the second knife. As the blade ricocheted away, it left a trail of corrosive qi sizzling in the air.

He didn’t have any Soul Talismans prepared to unleash on these two assassins, but a defensive shield was simple. As that blade flew away, he spun the spear back with his right hand and pointed it at the figure on the right.

A sphere of golden flames gathered at the point of the spear like a burning sun and then blasted forward in a hundred rays of crimson-tinted light. It was Crimson Sunset Strike, one of his oldest techniques.

The rays ripped through the air toward the figure and swept him away in a barrage of strikes, hurling him across the courtyard until he slammed into the back wall. If the wards on the house hadn’t been there, he would have blasted straight through it.

It probably wasn’t enough to kill him, but it would keep him busy for a moment.

Verse turned his attention to the second assassin, who was closing in on his left. The dark-clothed figure had abandoned ranged attacks and now matte black short blades were in his hand as he slashed forward.

Shadows leapt away from the blades and turned into ten-foot-long serrated fangs that cut down toward Verse, like the night had turned into a monster and come alive.

In response, Verse dismissed the silver formation shield and a low roar echoed through the courtyard. Emerald flames gathered around his body, pouring toward his left hand as he raised it in the air.

The flames formed into an image of a dragon’s claw with intricate scales and sharp talons that was superimposed over Verse’s hand. He swept the claw through the air to meet the shadows.

The flames roared with a draconic anger as they tore through the shadow fangs and left them in fragments. Then the claw slammed down toward the assassin.

The figure tried to dodge, but he’d made the mistake of closing in. He gathered shadows around himself as his speed increased and he dodged to the side, but he was too close to escape.

The dragon claw slammed down like the fury of the heavens as it ripped through the man with five sharp talons. The assassin’s body exploded into fragments as the claw slammed into the earth, making the courtyard tremble.

Even Verse was surprised by how easily the man had died, but the strike told him the assassin was only at the early tier of the Aligned realm. Facing him at that level was asking for death.

The only remains of the assassin was a new cloud of grey smoke that exploded as his body began to disintegrate, the result of some talisman or technique that was triggered by his death.

Verse sent a wave of flames toward the cloud of smoke, but he didn’t pay any more attention to it as he turned back to the other one.

The remaining assassin had survived the initial strike and was peeling himself off the far wall. His movements were slow, but they were speeding up as a blood-red mist began to gather around him.

A pulse of bright spiritual energy shot away from him, trying to escape through the wards, but when it struck the rear wall, it disintegrated in a flash of yellow and blue light as the formation intercepted it.

“That won’t help you,” Verse said as he walked forward. His spear was slanted toward the figure in his right hand, while his left hand was still overlaid by an emerald dragon’s claw. Silver scars like scales were visible on his skin, making the claw look somehow natural.

“Normally, I’d spend some time asking where you came from and why,” he added, “but you made a mistake in coming into my home.”

He raised his left hand and the emerald claw grew larger until it resembled a real dragon’s claw formed of flames. Then he brought it slicing down toward the assassin. It was far larger than the assassin, but as it approached him, it slammed into the blood-red mist around him and slowed down a fraction, just enough for the assassin to roll out of the way.

The sound of a wailing spirit echoed through the courtyard, stabbing at Verse’s ears as he turned to track the assassin. The mist was growing larger now, and more wails joined the first as it became denser, making that edge of the courtyard hard to see through.

In the depths of the mist, the assassin’s figure faded in and out as he moved. He rolled across the ground and jumped to his feet, where he pulled out several objects and hurled them across the courtyard toward Verse.

One of them was a small skull, while others were fragments of bone, shards of crystal, and two dark-colored disks. The disks exploded into clouds of the same grey poison that the assassins had used before, which began to expand across the courtyard.

The other items released a stronger wailing of trapped spirits. Images of thrashing figures and twisted beasts formed in the red mist, each of them anchored to one of the different objects. Their screams were piercing as they created a mental attack that stabbed at his mind.

Silver-tinged flames surged around him like a tide as Verse took in a deep breath and then let out a roar that echoed through the courtyard. The sound was infused with the bright radiance of sunrise. It tore through the wailing voices and spirits, ripping them away from the objects that anchored them and shredding their forms into streamers of mist.

A dragon’s roar was a spiritual attack in its own right and when it was mixed with his dao, it was anathema to the dark spirits. Dealing with them gave the assassin a moment to prepare a larger attack, however.

“You’re more difficult than I expected,” the man snarled with a raspy voice, “but it doesn’t matter. Let’s see how you deal with these Sky Rending Ghosts!”

His hands rose as he threw out three dark vials. Each of them was about six inches long and a thumb wide, and they were made of obsidian that glimmered in the flames. All three shattered in the air, releasing quickly expanding clouds of violent red mist.

The assassin began forming hand seals and chanting as he gestured at the mist. Spiritual energy cascaded around him, making the area where he was standing seem like it had turned into a blood-red sea.

Within seconds, the mist from the vials expanded into three specters that were ten feet tall. Each of them had a screaming face and wild eyes, long red hair that trailed behind their backs in lanky strands like it was matted with blood, and fingernails that were a foot long with sharp, jagged edges.

The red mist throughout the courtyard and the energy around the assassin poured into them, making their bodies grow more substantial. Within an instant, they took on a physical presence that released a quivering wave of suppression into the air.

The air was filled with a nauseating smell like rancid blood and rotting graves. A single sniff told Verse that it also carried a deadly poison. It burned in his nostrils like a rotting grave until his flames incinerated it, leaving behind a scorched scent that was much purer.

He gripped the Flowing Gold Spear in his hand as he took a deep breath, but instead of charging forward, he kept his position. He reached out to the courtyard around him, sensing the life of the herbs, and then he nodded.

Each of the ghosts was as strong as an early Aligned adept and had unique abilities. It would normally take him a few moments to deal with them, which could give the assassin a chance to escape, but he didn’t plan to let that happen.

He pulled a handful of living seeds from his soul space and hurled them into the air in front of him. Then he reached out with his new attunement to Wood and channeled some of the abundant vitality from the courtyard into them.

At the same time, he took a deep breath and let out a resounding roar. This one was filled with emerald flames that washed across the courtyard. When the flames touched the seeds, they burst into life, quickly expanding into a field of sharp brambles that spread across the area.

There were so many brambles that the entire courtyard was covered in them. Their thorns stabbed through the ghosts and blocked off their movements, and then they continued spreading, hemming in the assassin in the distance before he could escape.

Meanwhile, the emerald flames didn’t stop there. They continued to spread, burning through the red mist and destroying the ghosts’ poison in the air. The ghosts had nowhere to escape to as the flames reached them.

The three red spirits let out despairing shrieks as the flames swept through them. It was like watching a wildfire spread through a grassy field and leave behind nothing but scorched and purified earth.

Everywhere the flames passed, the spirits ceased to be. The red mist fueling them was burned away by dragon flames.

“What is...that?” The assassin’s voice rose to a feverish pitch as he looked at the flames and then toward Verse. He spun around to escape, but the brambles surrounded him on every side, cutting off his path.

As the flames continued to burn, Verse turned to look at the assassin. The spear in his hand traced a circle in the air. It was composed of crimson sunset flames on one side and silver sunrise flames on the other. The flames began to spin, cycling around one another and creating a fluid ripple in the air as it shot toward the assassin.

The man didn’t say anything, but his movements became more desperate as he tried to dodge. He twisted in place, hurling a wave of red needles at Verse that hissed in the air. Then he tried to gather the red mist around himself again, combining it this time with the shadows that had hidden his arrival.

Before he could complete his technique, Verse’s attack arrived.

The Solar Cycle was a nearly invisible ripple of flame in the air as it struck the assassin and passed through to the other side, where it faded into nothing. In its wake, the man’s body began to shake.

The tremors grew more pronounced as cracks appeared along his body with golden and silver flames burning in them. Then the space where he was standing twisted inward like a vortex, dissolving into a field of brilliant solar light.

His body exploded, the fragments disintegrating as they flew outward.

Solar Cycle was one of Verse’s strongest abilities. It was a condensation of the daos of sunrise and sunset, along with their concepts of death and rebirth, and it created two opposing forces that tore apart the target inside.

In the months since he’d created it, he’d realized it was just the beginning of a much longer path, but that didn’t make it any less effective.

He raised his hand into the air and the emerald flames all around the courtyard surged, devouring the last of the red mist and the three specters, as well as the remains of the grey smoke, bone fragments, and shadows that the assassins had left all over his home.

A moment later, the courtyard was silent again except for the wind rustling the leaves.

Leaf’s weight landed on Verse’s shoulder, where he let out a stern chirp of irritation, but then he coiled around his neck and relaxed, seemingly content. Verse reached up and scratched his head as he looked around.

What he saw was reassuring. The natural formation in the courtyard was humming with vital Wood energy that had protected the plants growing here, and his emerald flames hadn’t damaged them at all.

As for all the brambles he’d summoned, they were slowly disintegrating into a layer of bright green specks that disappeared into the earth. The energy would act as nutrients for the rest of the plants.

Between Leaf’s efforts and the wards on the house, the courtyard was unharmed. He pulled out a Rank 3 spiritual herb and offered it to the elemental as a reward. Leaf snagged it in a claw and began to happily chew on it.

Verse sent his spear back into his spatial ring as he dismissed all of the flames and the emerald claw that was still around his left hand. The spiritual energy dissipated into sparks that faded into the wind.

He sensed the formation, and then he nodded. The wards were still strong, which meant they should have prevented the commotion from spreading outward. As far as anyone in the city knew, this fight had never happened.

“Good work,” Verse said as he scratched Leaf’s head. “It looks like Vesana wasn’t able to distract Renzer after all. Her suspicions about that connection were correct, one way or another.”
His voice was calm.

It wasn’t difficult to put together the origin of the attackers. Given the techniques they’d used, he had no doubt they were associated with the Crimson Shade Sect. That meant they were related to his appearance at the Alchemists’ Guild.

Renzer had acted more decisively than he’d suspected.

It meant the branch head had a lot at stake, enough that he was willing to kill Verse to keep him out of it. Whatever he was up to with the sect and the kidnapped alchemists, it was important.

Important enough to make the Crimson Shade Sect send two assassins after him.

“At any rate, it looks like I stirred up some trouble,” he added with a grim chuckle. “This just couldn’t turn into a peaceful year or two doing alchemy, could it?”

If he had his wishes, that’s exactly what his time in Boreas would be. But he didn’t dwell on that for long. He was too used to the world making things difficult.

“Well, let’s see if they have anything useful on them,” he said eventually. “Then we can see if the restaurant is still open.”