[LitF] 53. War in the Dawn, War at Night (Patreon)

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[A/N: I considered taking a break on Lost in the Future because this arc involves some matters pertaining to war.

I decided to go ahead, but I want to make it clear that this is not a commentary on any past or ongoing conflicts on Earth. This is fiction. The characters' opinions are their own and do not necessarily reflect the author's.

Anyway, Merry Christmas!

\o/

As stated in the previous chapter's author notes, this is a late chapter. The next chapter, which was supposed to come out last Saturday, will be released before 2024.

Delayed Chapters: 1

Notice: After the next chapter, the next Lost in the Future chapter will be on 01/13. In other words, I'll take a week off. I feel more tired each day and believe it's the right thing to do. It's been forever since I took a real vacation to decompress.

If you want a refund this month, just comment below or DM me. No questions asked, no hard feelings.]

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The first casualty of any war was inevitably the truth.

Arthur held no hope for clarifying everything he had ever done and would do henceforth. There would always be rumors surrounding him. That was already true in the past, and what he had heard from modern newspapers sounded even worse. The Free Fate Movement already controlled most news outlets, while the ones they didn't control had little to no incentive to side with the prince—unless, of course, they cared about the truth.

That was part of the reason he would do the villain's gambit. He would use the enemy's strength for himself. It also allowed him to do things much more freely. By accepting the mantle of a "villain," he could go to lengths that would otherwise cost him time and resources to put in a good light. He would control his power on every attack, but that was the extent of his worries. He could be reckless.

And he had come to Kalis, the Crystal City, in Avaria, to act recklessly.

Cities in Avaria were governed by the League. Their troops and government officers worked in different official buildings. However, the usual tasks carried out by the League branches worldwide were also held by branches in League-ruled cities.

As the sun dawned upon the world, Arthur floated above the local League's branch. He was clad in black and golden armor, common metal passing as a grand knight's armor, but left his head uncovered. The branch's building was a round fifteen-story construction of steel and crystal, looking like a massive red and blue obelisk. It was beautiful, like all the crystal-encased buildings nearby.

Dozens of crystal-encased buildings also floated throughout the city, kept aloft by magitech. They were only a few stories tall at most but well-lit. They shone in a multitude of colors and were mainly shaped as geometric forms, primarily cubes and pyramids, with the odd sphere, giving the city a certain mystique.

The League's non-floating building was one of the few with a gigantic sign above it. White and golden crystal and steel had been cast as the League's insignia and floated, enormous, atop the structure, rotating slowly.

The floating buildings were more expensive than the signs, but at least served the purpose of occupying space that would otherwise be wasted, empty air, without the need for a better foundational support on the ground. The signs, on the other hand, could be physically supported by the buildings with no loss of function except that keeping it afloat flaunted wealth. It was a waste of resources, a show of status, a mark of pride.

Arthur willed it, and the unenchanted metal inside the League's sign exploded, destroying the entire thing at once.

Then, he flew down at a fast speed.

Emily and Graham were beside him in metal armor. So were a lot of metal spheres, disks, and javelins. The prince was like a bullet piercing the branch from above, collapsing the construction inwards. He twisted all metal on his way, forcing the building to implode into itself. The League's local defensive weapons were too slow, and the magitech too weak to bar his way.

It was early morning, and few people were in the branch. Arthur found a dozen guards and a singular cleaner. He prehended them, forced them to sleep, and brought them to himself as he kept going down.

The sound of his passage was deafening. People in nearby buildings came to see what was going on. Many rushed to make a phone call.

Once on the ground, Arthur raised a hurricane of metal bits into the skies. It surrounded the building, containing all the falling debris within. He and the people with him were kept safe in the eye of the storm.

Half a minute later, the metal typhoon thinned and rested down. Arthur exited the now calm mess and placed the League's workers on the ground.

Following that, he used a lot of metal to form High House Boria's insignia in pure metal, with a small twist. A golden lion's head came out of a shield-shaped black plate, mouth wide, roaring in silent rage. House Boria's lion only showed that face when declaring war.

Arthur couldn't use magitech but enspelled the thing to float high above the debris remaining of the League's branch. It would stay there until the mana of the spell ran out, and he invested half his metal mana pool into it. Together with his high elemental comprehension, although the thing was massive, as wide as the building had been and half as tall, it should remain in place for at least half a day if no one brought it down.

It was a show of pride and force, further humiliation upon the League, which had lost its branch so pathetically.

He then formed thick plaques, placing one floating underneath the other beneath his coat of arms. The panels were also enormous but made of simple black steel with white letters. At his level, changing the color of metal was trivial. One side of each plaque was written in modern human language, and the other in League dialect.

They read, "So declares Arthur Willoughby Naerith-Tracey Boria the Third, head of High House Boria:

"1. Blaze Terrell, former Human Commander of the League of the Fated Races, has used a nuclear warhead against the United Research Institute while I was there. Countless civilian lives were lost. Such an action is not only an act of war against High House Boria but also a crime against the Fated Races. Such a person has no place among the living.

"High House Boria formally declares a war of annihilation against Blaze Terrell.

"Any who harbors Blaze Terrell will be deemed an ally of his and, thus, my enemy. Should the Terrell Family, of which Blaze Terrell is the head, not depose and denounce him, it shall also be my enemy.

"Up to the day Blaze Terrell dies, no truce shall be accepted, no talks shall be held, and no quarters shall be given.

"2. The League of the Fated Races has failed to safeguard me when I was attacked in League territory, lied about the reason for the Institute's destruction, thus protecting Blaze Terrrell's image, and stole High House Boria's credit for destroying a level 100 dungeon. High House Boria takes those actions as acts of war.

"High House Boria formally declares a war of retaliation against the League of the Fated Races.

"So I have declared, and so shall it be."

He kept it simple and straightforward. As much as he would play a villain, he also had to leave a legal way out for him after Terrell died. Furthermore, and most importantly, throwing truths out there to make people discuss them would add to the chaos—assuming people learned of them, of course.

The prince left a way out for the League in his words. He hadn't set clear war goals or conditions for the war to end, suggesting he was open to negotiating with them. That said, it was implicit that any truce or peace talk would require the League to pay reparations and stop siding with the enemy whom Arthur had sworn not to stop at nothing to kill.

His willingness to talk was also why he had chosen to target a League branch instead of a government building. He was making it clear that he would attack, but only if they forced his hand. And if he could destroy the branch's building like that, he doubted any other defenses would fare better against him.

Arthur was telling them that even if they weren't bold enough to denounce Terrell, they better stay out of his way until his war with the guy was over—or else.

After that, the prince waited. It was only a matter of time until someone appeared.

It took almost five whole minutes for the first scout to appear at the top of a nearby building, wearing the League's white plate armor. The guy reported what he saw, reading the declaration of war with evident disbelief.

Seconds later, sirens sounded throughout the city. Within minutes, reporters and curious onlookers rushed in, only to be stopped by barricades set up by the city's peacekeeping units, who had arrived moments before them.

Kalis's police officers were awakeners who set up a perimeter a few blocks from Arthur. The city's elite forces took a while to arrive, enough for the prince to guess there were discussions among the decision-makers about what to do about him.

They did come eventually, though. Fifty hovercars, split into four groups, surrounded Arthur from all sides. At the same time, twenty black trucks came by the ground and spit out dozens of unawakened clad in voidsteel.

"Cease all your magic and skills and get to your knees!" the speakers in one hovercar screamed. "Now!"

Arthur was a little disappointed. He expected Terrell to have some hold over the League, but he had hoped for the best. Sadly, the only thing the good people in the League could do was ensure these troops didn't directly attack him.

Good for those who came; he would let them live.

His mission had been accomplished. His main goal was to stay there until enough people had seen his words. It would ensure rumors about them reached at least well-connected individuals.

Enough people could also see the two unconscious people floating beside him. It was time to say his last words before leaving.

Arthur used his magic to make his voice capable of reaching far and wide and yelled, "The next time the League deploys troops against me will only end with their blood painting the streets red. Inform Mister Reed that I saved his daughter from a nuclear explosion and fear for her safety, so I'll keep her alive and healthy with me, albeit unconscious. And tell Blaze Terrell he can't hide from me. I'll find him, and I'll kill him."

Anyone would conclude he was keeping Emily hostage. A self-righteous villain was the easiest one to hate, but also the one who created more chaos.

The board was set, so Arthur flew directly upwards at top speed, then left toward the horizon.

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A short-haired ginger with freckles, a snout nose, and black eyes, wearing black jeans and a leather jacket, paid for the newspaper. Sophie had distributed her money among the three of them. It would finance the beginning of the war against Terrell.

They would also steal from others as they continued. There was no way around it. They would, however, also record who they were stealing from to repay it later.

"Thanks," the fat vendor said, barely glancing at the money before turning to look at the television below his stand.

Magitech in Avaria was much more widely spread than in the low-mana regions Arthur had visited. Even a random unawakened newsstand operator could afford a TV and the cable subscription required for it to be useful.

On the TV, a woman was reporting, "...just confirmed that the last survivor of the Kalis Attack has passed. The special poison used by mana-mad Arthur Boria is deadlier against awakeners, but the janitor's heart condition made him vulnerable. Olive Hansel, fifty-three years old, was an unawakened working on the morning of the attack. He leaves behind three daughters, one of them pregnant with a little boy who will never have the chance to meet his humble, doting grandfather..."

"Motherfucker," the vendor swore, full of anger.

Arthur had destroyed the League's branch the previous day. Terrell had made up a story about a poison he had injected into the people he didn't let die in the League's branch collapse. Now, the last survivor was dead.

The first casualty of war was the truth, and the second was targets of opportunity. Every party had to decide how far they were willing to go for the cause they were fighting for. The prince had "only" kidnapped a person for her own good. Terrell was killing innocents to blame him.

That wasn't unexpected, considering Terrell had killed tens of thousands in the Institute. It still made Arthur both upset and sad. The people in the League had died merely because it would hurt his image. It was so... petty.

The news anchor on the TV then reported that Mister Reed, Emily's father, was still missing. Arthur was the main suspect, as it was confirmed he had kidnapped the daughter. The lead theory shared by "specialists" was that the prince had killed the father, though the prince expected him to appear later, injured, maybe saved from a damp place Arthur had left him in.

They knew Arthur had Emily, but none of his words, either written or spoken, had made the news. Not that they would have changed anything when everyone worked to paint him as an even worse villain than he was.

At least his plan was working. Everyone was talking about him, and he was creating chaos, at least in the media. The average unawakener was affected by his actions. He was making a splash on the river of time, and this was only the beginning.

He walked to the bench in the park and sat down to reach the newspaper. His attack had made the headlines. Just below were "specialists" questioning whether the "similar attack" against the League's Joint Command months ago, which had ended with Terrell being accused of treason, hadn't been part of Arthur's scheme. The League had refused to comment.

Arthur ignored most of it, though he pretended to read. A few minutes later, he got to the part he cared about. Tamara had used one of the made-up phone numbers they had agreed upon to sell something in the newspaper's classifieds section.

Tamara, or "Mary," was selling a mansion in Port Granwood, a city very far from Avaria. It was uncommon for her to advertise it Avaria, but Port Granwood was in another high-mana region, so it wasn't unheard of for her to seek awakener buyers elsewhere if no one there was interested. Port Granwood was also known for being the summer destination of the rich and powerful, meaning Mary might just want to inflate the mansion's price.

The property was three stories tall, with nineteen bedrooms, twenty-four bathrooms, and so on. The ad was evidently coded. The property was being sold in Port Granwood, a city they had previously agreed on. From there, he was supposed to follow its main road to the South. He used the number of rooms to know how many cities to skip. In the end, he reached a city called Margrave.

The mansion's stories were mentioned first, so Tamara was saying Terrell had a significant presence in Margrave. Then came the bedrooms, meaning the presence was known by influential figures but not public knowledge. Then, bathrooms, so Terrell's properties were well-guarded, making them an excellent place for a show of force.

Arthur kept reading the paper until he was done with it, then left it on the bench, as was the custom in the area. He walked to one of the modern novelties of Avaria, a public phone, and pushed some coins into a receiver. He called one of the hundreds of voicemail boxes he and his people had contracted and would use in a set order. He dialed the password and heard the only message there.

"Hello?" Tamara said, though her voice was much deeper than usual. "Mr. Anderson? This is Danielle Hodges from Sunset Cleaning Services. I'm calling about the tuxedo you left with us. It's been seven months already, Mr. Anderson. We don't want to throw a Bergini away, but we will if you don't pick it up by next Wednesday. We're already running a loss by keeping your property stored in our very premium space, and your deposit does not cover for us to keep it with us. I don't mean to sound disrespectful, but we aren't a random, trashy cleaning company. You knew that, which is why you chose us. We have cared for your clothes as we do and have been doing for our VIP clients for over seventy years, and we..."

The message was huge and very informative. It included the intelligence about Margrave and much more. Arthur and the others had set ten ways to communicate with each other, and they would sometimes repeat some critical information while splitting it on other occasions, depending on how much they felt a means was trustworthy.

The prince got information on every building Tamara had found out to be owned by Terrell in Margrave and how important they were, the key casinos and a dozen less critical stores. Terrell paid for some of his influence with money, and striking his finances should hurt. More importantly, if Arthur made a big enough scene, the casinos wouldn't be able to reopen anytime soon, and not even Teerrell would be able to stop the media from releasing some news.

The best part was that the casinos were jointly shared. Arthur would upset Terrell's partners. Though that would make them hate him, they and others would also start wondering if siding with Terrell was a good idea. Not now, of course. But if the prince did it enough times...

Arthur hung up the phone and, ten minutes later, looked like a woman on the other side of the city. "She" entered a hotel and asked if anyone had left a message for "her." Tamara had. This means of contact was less trustworthy because the attendant might just not care about taking proper notes, but it served as further confirmation of the intel he had gotten.

Everything matched. He had checked more than one way to ensure nothing was too strange. He already knew enough.

He left without booking a room, much to the attendant's annoyance. Most hotels took notes for people not currently on the guest list, but they resented being used by anyone thick-skinned enough to just say thanks and leave.

Arthur didn't care; he was about to skip the city. Even in the unlikely event that someone tracked this oddity back to him, he would be long gone by then.

He went to another hotel, a much cheaper roadside one, and entered his room on the ground floor. Emily and Graham were unconscious in the bathtub, which he had encased with thick metal with a set of openings in a complex maze to allow them to breathe. Leaving them alone there for a few hours wasn't risk-free, but they were unlikely to be found and killed before he returned. He would likely see a commotion if an employee invaded the room and discovered the metal box.

The prince unmade the metal box, grabbed the two with his magic, and went to the parking lot, which was covered with dirt and gravel. He used his domain to ensure no one nearby would notice as he flew fast from the room's window to the ground. He used a metal drill to quickly dig underground.

Arthur had no stealth skills other than forcing people to look another way. He didn't like doing it because it was an abuse of his power over innocents, but that was also a length he was willing to go in times of war. It still wasn't enough.

The underground was his safest bet. In the past, even dwarves had located the hidden underground vampire nation by chance. Neither he nor Tamara had found signs that underground scouting was much easier nowadays. On the other hand, they had seen or could theorize multiple ways for magitech to watch over the air and the ground at a distance, just like in the past.

He flowed through the underground with ease. Half an hour later, he reached the limits of Avaria, and the mana levels sharply decreased. So did his speed, as he started controlling his drill using only his metal domain. He still kept some intent strings carrying his metal pieces, as he was weak without his weapons.

Most importantly, from now on, Arthur needed to keep a life authority chain on himself at all times. As soon as he left the high-mana region, his body could no longer absorb enough "food-type" mana from the surroundings to sustain itself. It started taking mana from his pools, causing an enormous amount of toxins to appear in his brain. Arthur had too many stats right now. A few seconds in a low-mana region would make him go mad.

Also noteworthy was how his mana levels were lowering at an absurd speed. He estimated that he could only stay two weeks in a low-mana region, without using any mana, before his reserves dried out and he simply dropped dead.

Margrave was also a low-mana region. He would reach it in seven hours.  That meant another seven hours to return, or longer, if he had to deal with obstacles.

Of all the ways Arthur considered dying one day, passing away out of lack of mana was just too pathetic. So, to be safe, he would only get his mana reserves as low as fifty percent before establishing a clear way to return to a high-mana region. Getting to one-third would mean immediate evacuation.

As he traveled, he kept creating holes in the ground above every now and then so he and his people could breathe. He could only decrease how much oxygen they needed, not make it unnecessary.

He also kept thinking of his elements—and how he would destroy Terrell's foothold in Margrave, then everywhere else, little by little.

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An old man with white hair left the dirty roadside hotel room he had booked earlier in the morning. Arthur had slept after arriving because awakeners still required sleep. Before falling unconscious, he had invested some mana in spells to wake him up if his metal bits were moved.

The night didn't hide the city a few miles away. Margrave was a jungle of nature and steel springing in the middle of the desert, filled with countless lights that even pierced the skies in numerous beams. In the past, magic enabled people to live just about anywhere they wanted. In the present, widespread magitech made it even simpler.

Witnessing a city of unawakened that depended on magic made Arthur wonder. The return of mana to the world would have the very unwanted consequence of dungeons also reappearing. Yet, if the mana levels kept lowering, would magitech continue working?

In theory, yes. The mana which enchantments used to fuel themselves—and, thus, magitech also required—was taken from the energy things were made of. Enchantments converted matter into mana in a mystical, not understood way. Everything the prince saw was made of mana, so they had a big pool to draw resources from.

Or did they?

Was mana just converted or refined physical energy? Or was it metaphysical, as scholars in the past believed? And which alternative was worse?

If mana was physical, mana sources were simultaneously limited and night infinite. There was no byproduct when a material fueled an enchantment; it directly turned into mana. The more dependent the Fated Races became on magitech, the faster they would use the world's resources. Eventually, there would be a shortage crisis.

However, the Fated Races had an entire planet to use as a mana source, and if they managed to get to space, the star system, then the galaxy. But it also meant they had to figure out ways of acquiring more materials for magitech.

If mana was metaphysical, there were the questions of how it was connected to everything and what its absence implied. From what Arthur saw during the dungeon core's ascension, devourers only ate worlds with living people, which suggested life was related to mana-producing planets. In the past, scholars had analyzed all planets in this star system and confirmed none had life or as much mana as their own, further evidence of the correlation between life and mana.

The prince was starting to think there was actually causality between mana and life. More mana stats had helped Graham's soul, and the body used calories to sustain and heal itself. His theory was that when someone awakened, Fate didn't create a new dependence on mana. Instead, it merely made the body as capable of sustaining itself with mana as the soul already did.

If he was correct, everyone's soul needed to consume environmental mana to remain alive, even unawakened. The cries of anguish he had heard on the worlds being consumed by the devourers weren't just because their planets were being sucked dry. It was because their very souls were being tormented by starving for mana.

Metaphysical mana. Awakeners. Interstellar war for resources. Dungeons. Devourers. Fate.

Everything fitted too well.

Arthur would work with the theory that mana was metaphysical until proven otherwise. Although that wasn't crucial for his current goal, it was essential for his future elemental comprehension. It changed things. Either it would facilitate his progression or make him reach a dead end—which, in turn, would provide him with an answer.

His priority research direction should be figuring out how to detect souls and check whether an unawakened soul consumed mana. If he witnessed it, he would know mana and life were intrinsically linked—at least for living beings with souls, which was another discussion. If he didn't witness it, he would know he had to pursue other venues.

Sadly, though the prince found all that interesting, he didn't have the time to invest in any of that right now. Sophie had suggested they remain hidden and bide their time as he grew stronger before hunting Terrell down, but that was impossible against an enemy who could use diviners to figure out when they would be in the Institute. They would always be on the run, on the defensive, fearing for their lives. War was the only answer.

So, Arthur put those considerations on the back of his head, got to a random place on the road where there were no eyes, dug down again, and rushed toward Margrave. He used his Mana Sight to find a place to surface, cleaned himself, invaded a house, stole some clothes, cleaned himself, and changed his appearance. Finally, a young skinhead in black clothes with a lot of metal underneath his clothes started walking the streets.

Arthur's goal this time wasn't immediate destruction. He had already shown he could sneak attack the League. The questions thus became: what if the League had time to prepare a defense? And could he also sneak attack organizations in a low-mana region?

Today, he would go on a stroll and send Terrell a message, giving the man time to prepare. Tomorrow, he would crush Terrell's properties despite any defenses the man might've erected. Such a show of force should shock the world.

Margrave's streets were active despite the late hour. That city belonged to the night. The prince took a cab and headed towards one of Terrell's casinos.

The closer to the city center he got, the more expensive the cars, accessories, and clothes became. The latter was ironic, considering how small people's clothes were, especially women, though there were also plenty of men with revealing outfits that displayed their well-toned muscles. Very few ladies and gentlemen seemed to care about how superficial their happiness was. Substances of all kinds numbed down any unwanted thoughts.

Still, Arthur considered this a better place than Vallesh, Avaria's City of Dreams.

These people also lived in ways he found morally questionable, but Valleshians were awakeners fleeing their duty to protect the world. The world had been on the brink of war, and mana levels had been lowering, yet they chose to do nothing about it. Instead, they lived to forget.

Maybe some of the people in Margrave were also skipping on their duties, but they weren't awakeners. They weren't beholden to the almost sacred duty of keeping the world safe. Unawakened didn't have the same privileges as awakeners because awakeners theoretically risked their lives for the unawakened's sake. Moreover, if someone became an awakener but didn't fulfill their duty, they took the spot from someone else who could've used that awakening stone and fought for the world in their stead.

Arthur sighed. He was still resentful of those people. Awakeners couldn't be useless or cowards—much less both.

He detected his thoughts were too over the place and found the source: worry for Sophie. He was trying to distract himself from his mission because every time he thought about Terrell, he wondered if she was safe.

That couldn't continue. He took a deep breath and focused. There was nothing he could do for her. He had to trust her first and his plan second. She was skilled, and the plan was good. He and Tamara were much more likely to fall before anything happened to Sophie, and the three of them knew to prioritize their lives.

Everything would be fine.

The cab reached the destination soon enough. The Royal Mirage Palace was massive, wider than it was tall, and shaped like a fancy castle. A continuous light and water show happened on a vast fountain before the castle. It included the moving stone statues of a man, a woman, and a dragon. It was entertaining enough that Arthur watched a whole loop, which took ten minutes. The man and woman met and married, but the dragon killed the woman. The man then took the sword and hunted the dragon down. There was an epic battle, and the man ended victorious.

"What a bummer," a guy told his boyfriend. "It's more fun when the dragon wins."

So, on top of everything, the show still had some variations. That was impressive, and Arthur could see the cogs and magitech in the statues. He wasn't sure whether people in the past could accomplish the same only with enchantments. At least not without spending a whole lot more resources than he guessed had gone into this show.

Even by the fountain, the prince got snorts and demeaning looks. It only got worse as he approached the casino proper. Night in some parts of Margrave was for the rich and powerful, not for a somewhat stylish but unwealthy-looking guy. The employees outside, a few valets and security guards, did their best to hide their opinions of him, but most of them earned more in tips than salary. Serving Arthur would be a waste of effort.

But they didn't need to worry; the prince didn't go in.

Arthur was here to cause a commotion but not to get caught discussing or fighting low-level goons. Cameras were everywhere, and he doubted he could bring the metal under his clothes into the premises undetected. There were also a few low-level awakeners here and there. One had already noticed he was too high-leveled for them to see my level, and a kind of special unit made of three level 5 awakeners was keeping a close eye on him. Discreetly but firmly. Their position showed that they didn't want him to continue and would intercept him if he tried.

The prince smiled at them, sneaked some of his metal on the floor, then took another cab away. As the car moved on, it revealed words written in shining white metal on the ground:

"This place is partially owned by Blaze Terrell, High House Boria's sworn enemy. I will destroy it tomorrow."

No one tried to stop or follow him. They didn't want to cause a bigger commotion than the people looking at the ground were making; it would be bad for business. Or maybe they feared the consequences of acting against an awakener whose level they couldn't see.

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The second casino was smaller and meant for the not-so-rich. It still had an over-the-top, distasteful decoration, but the employees looked more favorably at everyone going inside. Every nickel counted in the smaller establishment.

The security personnel working there weren't on high alert as Arthur approached. Maybe Terrell or his allies had thought Arthur only knew about one casino, so they hadn't warned the others to prevent him from noticing the connection. Or perhaps they didn't care about the second casino as much because it was for the less fortunate. Whatever the case, Arthur left the same way as he did the first casino, in a cab, leaving a message on the floor.

The third casino was much better prepared.

It should be no coincidence that it was the classiest place, a hotel with multiple well-lit buildings side by side that looked fancy without crossing too many boundaries of good taste. Gran Hotel Luna didn't promote itself as a casino, though almost a third of its space was dedicated to the activity. It was also the place with the best-looking people, half of whom were evidently willing to sell themselves. It was usually nothing too over-the-top, but with Arthur's Mana Sight and life domain, he noticed how people laughed harder than they felt or held some looks longer than natural. He also saw how easy it was to invite almost anyone to a more private place.

It irked him that the casino's primary colors were black and gold. It felt like a direct slap to his face. He knew those two colors had been picked for the same reason his great-great-great-great-grandfather did so long ago: they looked nice. But it still felt terrible that his enemy shared the colors with him.

The hotel was surrounded by police officers, unawakened special forces, and the League's SRT team. They weren't even pretending that nothing was wrong. They were, however, making a show of force, calming the guests and ensuring everything was under control. A dozen low-level awakeners kept looking everywhere, looking for Arthur.

Three lines of cars queued to get admitted through the barricade. One was for very, very fancy cars, the second for cabs, and the third for the rest. Every car was ordered to open its windows so the police could take a look, but the cops didn't even try to pretend they were looking for illegal activities.

In fact, an episode let every onlooker not doubt the cops would let anything go, no matter what happened in the guests' cars. Different hotel employees walked by the vehicles in the line to reassure their potential guests. The cab queue had a hotel attendant with a too-tight, thin black dress. She was identified as an employee by the tag on her braless chest, right above her pierced, hard nipples, which poked through the cloth. Although unfittingly vulgar compared to other attendees, the blonde got a pass because she was Sophie-level breathtaking. She was that beautiful despite being unawakened, and Arthur detected very few artificial touches to her appearance.

She was "high as a kite," as people nowadays would say. The prince was surprised she could even walk straight and talk. She had a high tolerance because of continued substance abuse.

When Arthur's cab got to the line, she reached the cab before them. She lowered her body while reaching for the window, showing just enough cleavage, and apologized for the inconvenience. She ensured the police were looking for the terrorist responsible for Kalis Attack, no one and nothing else. The cab's passenger asked, "How much, bitch?"

The lady had the decency of looking confused and almost offended for a moment as she replied, "Sorry?"

The passenger tsked. "I don't look like much, but I came loaded." He opened the backpack beside him, revealing loads of cash. He then gentlemanly opened the door for her. "Less wasting time, more working."

The hotel attendant's irises dilated, and her breathing became slightly more harbored. She evidently had a thing for being treated as an object by people with money. Arthur saw no signs of magic mental control, but he suspected long-term indoctrination, which also explained her drug resistance.

It made him sick, and the worst part was that he couldn't magically heal that. Not without actual mind control. He only hoped he was wrong and misjudging the situation out of prejudice. Hopefully, she had grown up to be like that in her own free interest. He could disapprove of her taste and decisions, but she had the right to like and do whatever she liked.

Whatever the case, she entered the car without another word, and they started having fun right there. The cab driver was more jealous than upset and kept watching. He pulled over the sidewalk, and the police did nothing, despite some subsequent very explicit things that weren't fully confined to the cab.

If that wasn't proof that the security forces wouldn't interfere with the guests' business, nothing was.

Another attendant, also beautiful but not that much, soon replaced the blonde one and came to reassure Arthur that the cops were only looking for the terrorist. She then moved to the next cab.

The hot women—and men, when requested—were primarily eye candy and a distraction. While they did their part, the League's awakeners moved around, venturing a little beyond the barricade but not too far. Fate's inspection only worked on those within sight, and none of them could see through the cab's metal or seats. Arthur had positioned himself behind a seat to avoid being seen too quickly.

"Pull over," Arthur told his driver, paid for the trip, and left.

He had avoided causing a big commotion in the other casinos, and he could find a way to bypass these troops. The hotel was too big; there would be a gap somewhere.

But this challenge couldn't go unawanered.

The prince had warned the League back in Kalis, yet they insisted on deploying troops against him. As much as he didn't want to kill potentially innocent people who were just doing their jobs, maybe even being manipulated to do so, this was war. He wouldn't touch civilians, but his enemies' troops were fair game, especially awakeners.

Arthur's only mercy was to make it painless for them.

While stepping outside, the prince used a life authority chain to kill almost all League personnel in quick succession. Simultaneously, he used an intent string to kill the biomancers who were prehending their bodies and a fast-moving metal sphere to shatter the skulls and brains of anyone clad in voidsteel.

They died so fast that they never realized they were in danger.

Then, he exploded their bodies, for he had warned that the blood of anyone the League deployed against him would paint the streets red. An awakener was always literal in their declaration of war so as to avoid any misinterpretations. He also exploded the League's vehicles nearby for extra chaos. Or rather, he broke them down suddenly and violently, using their internal metal bits to achieve the effect.

There was no fire because he wanted to keep the explosions contained. For now, he would avoid injuring any unawakened that didn't directly attack him first. He would pull those punches at least until rumors of his vendetta being exclusively against Terrell and allies, not anyone else, pierced Terrell's media control. Depending on how many places he destroyed, it shouldn't take more than a few weeks to a couple of months.

The explosions were loud and eye-catching all the same. Hundreds screamed and ran away from the vehicles and people who had suddenly exploded. Plenty of unawakened were covered in red gore, and most threw up.

While that happened, Arthur wrote the same warning he had left in the other casinos. This time, he placed it on the hotel's facade. He also added a line:

"I repeat: High House Boria's war is exclusively against Blaze Terrell and his allies, of which the League of the Fated Races insists on being one. Step aside, and no harm will befall you."

Even if the message spread, no one would believe him. Not yet. Not after "he" had poisoned the people in Kalis. But someone would start wondering if he wasn't telling the truth. Eventually.

Wars among awakeners were won either instantaneously or over long periods. This one would go on for a while.

As Arthur left through the chaos of panicking people, he made sure to walk where many cameras could see him. The casinos' workers would see the same guy had been present when the three warnings were given. That would send two messages.

First, he was probably Arthur and could change his appearance. Second, he had gone from the place of the first warning to the third one unhindered despite doing nothing but taking cabs. In other words, Terrell's security was incompetent; should anyone keep betting on him?

His goals had been accomplished, and he returned to his shitty hotel room. He wouldn't leave a warning at Terrell's stores, though he would strike against them tomorrow. He also wanted to let Terrell's allies know he wouldn't always be so kind as to inform them that he was going for them. It would be better if they kept guessing who was next.

As he approached his room, he was surprised to feel Graham had woken up.

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