Wearing his leather armor instead of his academy's uniform, Seth ran down the dirt road with Nightmare beside him. Seth's Endless Pouch was firmly secured to his belt's side while the Black Hounds' bags were at the back, hidden beneath his dark green cloak—carrying three at the same time would raise too many questions.

'Don't complain later if they find out we killed two of their members and leave the city before we come back,' Nightmare muttered beside him, fading into Illusionary Emptiness as Sunatown's wooden wall appeared on the horizon.

'Relax, we'll be fine,' Seth replied with a sigh. 'That guy hasn't sent anything through the orb. He still clearly has no idea they're dead.'

While at the inn, Seth had decided to use the next day to visit Marcus, sell all the Warrior's and Rogue's resources, and finally pay for Renwal's arms before hunting down the Black Hounds—just in case something happened to him. Dying before paying that debt was out of question.

Once they passed through Sunatown's unguarded gate, Seth moved away from the main streets and navigated along the narrow, winding alleys to avoid unnecessary attention. To his relief, the people he passed by all seemed to be doing fine—the House Faertis or House Seralp hadn't paid the town a visit yet.

Thick clouds gathered in the sky, covering the town with a veil of shadow that was perfect for Nightmare. Invisible to the naked eye, the direwolf padded soundlessly beside Seth, and in no time, they reached Marcus' shop, which looked as run-down as ever.

The tarnished signboard in the front swayed and creaked in the gentle breeze while Seth walked to the door. But then, as his hand raised to knock, a sudden wave of bloodlust-laden aether gripped him and plunged into his body like a cold blade. His feet grew heavy and his core began to throb violently, filling him with adrenaline and a sense of imminent death.

Nightmare immediately tensed, Danger Sense seemingly piercing through his body. 'We need to lea—'

Before the direwolf could finish, the door swung open. Marcus appeared in its frame, his pale, wrinkled face twisted in both amusement and exasperation. The suffocating aura of bloodlust vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Come in," Marcus said with a nod before looking briefly on the right, where Nightmare stood invisible. "And bring him with you."

Seth's eyes widened. It had taken the Alchemist no real effort to detect the direwolf, even from dozens of feet away. After a small delay, Seth stepped inside, followed closely behind by his companion.

The air within the shop reeked of herbs, potions, and pure alcohol. Marcus walked behind the counter, then gestured for Seth to take a seat. "Sit."

"What was that weird aether outside?" Seth asked, settling into one of the high-chairs. "It was filled with so much… killing intent."

"Ah, just a little illusion ward I set up to scare off any Wielders of Iron Tier or higher," Marcus answered, his fingers drumming on the filled teacup in front of him as a sly smile crept on his face. "It worked? Did you and your direwolf wet yourselves?"

Nightmare moved out of Illusionary Emptiness and snarled at the Alchemist. 'We should teach him a lesson.'

'Easy,' Seth said to the direwolf. 'Even if he's a non-combat Wielder, he could probably wipe the floor with us.'

He'd tried Identifying the old Alchemist before, but the man had been wearing a concealment artifact. One thing was certain—he wasn't Copper or Iron. Not even close.

"He can't talk?" Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. "With a Silver Potential, his control over aether should be good enough by now."

Nightmare's crimson eyes flared with anger. 'Is he saying I'm bad?'

Seth frowned, ignoring the direwolf. "Wait, what? How?"

"When you reach Iron, you gain the ability to channel aether outside your body without an artifact or a weapon," the Alchemist explained, raising his index. "All it takes is shaping the aether to produce the desired sound."

A tickle of aether coiled around the fingertip in a perfect circle, glowing briefly for half a second, then quickly expanded and vanished. Invisible waves of sound rippled through the air, coalescing into audible words that resonated through the shop.

"Just like that," came Marcus' aether voice.

Nightmare's ears perked up, and with a snort, the direwolf gave it a try himself. As he focused, a blue aura of compressed aether shimmered around his throat, then burst out, producing a distorted noise.

"Me—woild—killleee—yeouuu."

Marcus let out a hearty laugh, wrinkles deepening on his face. "That's… not exactly threatening. You sound like a drunk sparrow."

Seth threw Nightmare a sheepish smile. 'We'll practice later. Don't worry about it.'

'I'm not worried,' the direwolf growled back. 'Who cares if I can't talk to humans? They're all weak anyway.'

Seth sighed and turned back to Marcus. "I'm surprised you didn't seem impressed by my Rank or my subclass."

"Why should I be?" the Alchemist answered, tilting his head with a frown. "Pretty sure your father was far higher than Low-Iron half a year after he awakened."

"Yeah, well, we didn't have the same opportunities," Seth shot back, bitterness creeping into his voice. Even if he had Link, his core and Nightmare, his father probably had way more resources. "I awakened as a commoner in the weakest country of the east continent, not as a noble in Draeria like him."

Marcus' expression shifted and his eyes turned cold. "Sericar," he muttered under his breath, his white beard twitching. "That man couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Yeah," Seth retorted. His jaws tightened, and anger began bubbling in his chest. "I'm glad one of you three could finally tell me the truth."

"Becoming Iron's gone to your head," Marcus growled, aether crackling around his thin white hair. "Suddenly you think you can be arrogant in my shop."

"Don't you think I have a reason to be pissed?" Seth snapped, glaring at the old Alchemist. "I spent months away from my dying mother for nothing. I hunted day and night, thinking I could save her—that if I just earned enough, she'd live."

Marcus opened his mouth, then closed it, his expression softening. After a moment, he sank into a chair behind the counter and shut his wrinkled eyes. "It was the only way to keep you safe."

"Maybe when I was a little," Seth answered, swallowing the lump in his throat. "But since then you have had plenty of occasions to tell me the truth."

The Alchemist let out a weary sigh. "You've the brain of a fish and a mouth that can't stay shut. In a month or two, you'd have spilled everything, and then you'd have been forced to live in some damn Rifts."

Seth's eyebrows knitted together. "Live in Rifts? Why?"

"Are they teaching you anything at the academy?" the old man said, rolling his eyes before reaching for his teacup. "You can't enter a Rift with a lower Tier than yours. People with powerful enemies hide in Rifts where they can't be followed."

"And live there, in the wild forever?"

Marcus shook his head, taking a sip of whatever mix was in his cup. "Some Rifts out there are far beyond what you're imagining. With multiple portals spread across the world, many have been used for trading and the small outposts inside have grown tremendously over the years. You can now find ones with massive cities—entire civilizations. Millions and millions of people. "

Seth's eyes widened, his jaw nearly dropping as he processed the new information. "Cities inside Rifts?" he muttered. "But… wouldn't they worry about someone harvesting the Domain Flower and collapsing everything?"

"Not really," the Alchemist answered. "Most are guarded by beasts way above the Rift's Tier, or are surrounded by fortresses made by powerful nations. Last I heard, it's been about twenty years since a populated Rift collapsed."

"Then why doesn't anyone talk about them?" Seth asked, pretty sure he'd never heard a word about such things, not even at the Adventurers Guild.

"Because the king of Kastal forbids his people from going inside them," Marcus explained with a shrug. "He got guards posted at the entrances of major ones. He doesn't want anyone here to get stronger by training with people there, or by trading with them."

Seth's brows furrowed. "Why would he stop his own people from growing stronger?"

"Because he's terrified of being overthrown," Marcus answered. "That's why your father picked this country. He knew no one as strong as him would pop up here, not with a king this paranoid and self-centered. I'm surprised no other nations have seized the opportunity to conquer this place… well, at least for now."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"That's messed up." Seth grimaced, shelving the idea of exploring those cities for now. Becoming a criminal just to satisfy his curiosity wasn't worth it. "But at least now I know where to hide if things get too… complicated with people from my father's country. Or the noble Houses here."

The old Alchemist snorted. "Great plan. Except maybe the part where they'll torture everyone here to make you come out."

Seth's hands closed into fists and his throat tightened. "I… yeah, that's true."

"Obviously," Marcus retorted while spilling some of his drinks by accident. "You can't just become a top student, reveal all your parents' secrets, and expect no backlash."

"So I'm supposed to lay low my whole life?"

"I'm not saying that." Marcus let out a heavy sigh and took his teacup to the sink before drying his hands with a rag. "Being a little selfish is fine, but, at least, try to limit the consequences on everyone else."

"How? I can't just tell them all to pack up and leave."

"Why not?" the Alchemist answered with a casual shrug. "With the increase of the land taxes, half the town's already fled to other Houses' territory. Give the rest a little push, and they'll follow. As for the tax collector of the Faertis, Sericar and I will make sure he stays quiet. Let's just say we know things he'd rather not see spread around."

"A 'little push'?" Seth echoed, his brow furrowing. For a moment he wondered what kind of leverage they had on the man who had burned his house before focusing on the obstacles. "Even if I warn them, most don't have the coins to just pack up and leave for somewhere else."

Marcus shrugged again. "Then help them out. That's your fault, after all."

Seth opened his mouth to argue but stopped—the old Alchemist wasn't wrong.

'Great, you'll waste even more of those coins of yours,' Nightmare grumbled.

'I've got no choice,' Seth answered to the direwolf. 'Those are my enemies, not theirs.' He then turned to the Alchemist. "Fine, I'll make sure everyone has the coins to relocate and buy a house somewhere else."

"That blonde friend of yours could probably lend you a hand."

"Yeah." Seth slumped back in his chair and his gaze drifted to the ceiling. "I was planning to sell some stuff to cover the cost of Renwal's arms, but… well, that plan's dead now."

"Let's see what you've got first," Marcus answered, reaching for a quill and parchment. "Maybe it's not a lost cause—unless you've bruised everything again like that Dark Nightshade."

"He's the one who sat on it back then," Seth said, pointing at Nightmare behind him before starting to unload all the resources from his Endless Pouch. As he did, an awkward smile appeared on his lips. "Sorry about losing it earlier. I know my mother asked you to keep me in the dark. And thanks for the Healing Potions you left in my pouch."

"It's alright, and it's noth—"Marcus began, waving off the apology before stopping mid-sentence, eyes widening as he leaned over the counter. "Where in the world did you find all these Iron herbs?"

Seth paused, looking up. "Ever heard of a branch called the Black Hounds?"

"No," Marcus answered, barely taking his eyes off the herbs. "Why?"

Seth glanced at the blue vial of Ocean Tears he'd just taken out of his pouch. He took a deep breath steeling himself; the old Alchemist was the only person he didn't need to lie to. "They sold humans like livestock to beasts… for resources."

Marcus' face hardened, and he straightened himself. "That's why you were short-tempered," he said, closing his eyes for half a second. "How many of them did you kill?"

"Two."

"And you plan to go after the others?"

For a second, silence hung in the shop. "Yes," Seth then finally answered. "Four adventurers died… mainly because of them. I can't just sit back."

Marcus sighed and resumed sorting the herbs onto a back counter. "Trying to play the hero might get you killed."

"Then I'd die with my head held high," Seth retorted. "Doing what I believe was right. My mother always said that Gaia would reward good deeds."

Nightmare scoffed. 'I thought you didn't believe gods were so 'all powerful and omniscient' ?'

'I can still believe that doing good will bring good,' Seth replied through Link.

Marcus paused, his fingers still pinching a few herbs, and looked at Seth. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions Seth couldn't fully discern. "If you want to throw away the peaceful life she and your father died for, go ahead. Just don't drag anyone else down with you."

"I'm grateful for the sacrifices they made," Seth answered, the vial in his hand catching the dim light of the shop, "but I won't put aside the values she taught me because of fear."

Marcus took a deep breath, the lines on his forehead deepening. "You're more stubborn than both of them put together. One day, you'll realize why we chose this life. And why they chose to keep you in the dark. Both about their past and… the world of Wielders."

Seth finished unpacking the herbs from his Endless Pouch in silence as the old Alchemist moved the stacks aside, jotting down numbers on his parchment. The only sounds in the room were the rustle of leaves and the soft clink of glass as Seth carefully placed the blue vials alongside the herbs. Without a word, Marcus disappeared into the back of the shop, and moments later, he returned with a large, dust-covered box, which he set heavily on the counter.

"This," Marcus began, his voice gruff as he wiped away the layers of dust, "was left by your father. He had a feeling you'd choose that Path."

Seth leaned forward, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

"Gear, spells, and artifacts," Marcus replied, opening the box and revealing its contents. Inside were several pieces of leather armor with engraved runes, plus numerous linen bags filled with what looked like scrolls and jewels.

Seth's attention was immediately drawn to a pair of strange-looking gauntlets nestled among the rest. They were made of a dark, near-black leather with a subtle glow, as if an inner fire burned within them. Intricate runes lined the large, armored pad that covered the external part of the forearms, wrists, and back of the hands. The obsidian-like hide stopped at the knuckles and didn't seem to cover either the fingers or the palm, allowing for a slight range of motion.

"These," Marcus continued, picking up the armored gloves and holding them out to Seth, "are the gauntlets your father used the first time he fought against your mother."

Seth grabbed them and ran his fingers along the hard, protective pads, feeling a large crack in the middle. "How did he swing a weapon with these? They look like they'd restrict your wrists."

The corner of Marcus' mouth raised into a half-smile. "These are the weapons. They're called combat gauntlets. You use the reinforced part at the exterior to block and, well, hit people with your fists."

"What?" Seth exclaimed, looking at the sturdy leather, which ended right at the knuckles. "What if you're fighting against someone in plate armor? Or a beast covered in rocks or something?"

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Nearly a third of Draeria's Primalists fight with these, and they're doing just fine."

Pressing his lips together, Seth examined the gauntlets again. With such weapons, he wouldn't need to master all those swords and dagger techniques. He could focus solely on fighting with his enhanced instinct. Hitting and blocking. Nothing more.

Out of curiosity, he cast Identify.

Tiger-Spirit Gauntlets (Broken)

Weapon

Tier: Platinum

Grade: ???

Effects: ???

"Holy shit!" Seth reeled and faced Marcus. "Is everything here from the Platinum Tier?"

"No," the Alchemist answered. "The rest is mostly Silver or Gold."

"I don't get it," Seth muttered, glancing at the box. "Why didn't you give me all this stuff sooner?"

"Because your father didn't want you to get spoon-fed," Marcus replied, taking the gauntlets from Seth's hands. "He wanted me to sell them to you."

"Sell?" Seth blurted out. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Not at all, you'll have to earn and buy each item in that box."

Seth was about to protest but suddenly stopped—he had complained so much about nobles being spoiled with spells and gear, and yet he was about to argue to get the same kind of treatment. He had already received more than most could dream of—a free awakening stone, an encyclopedia, the two-teardrop necklace, Link, and even his core. No, he certainly couldn't complain right now.

"Fine," he said, dragging a hand down his face in exasperation. Between Renwal's healing Silver prism and the cost of relocating everyone, he could forget about buying anything for himself. "I'll save up and come back for a spell in a few months."

"You can easily afford something right now," Marcus answered, nodding toward the four vials of blue liquid on the counter. "Each of those is worth seventy to eighty iron coins."

Seth's jaw dropped, mind racing. "What? But they're only Iron. How can they be so expensive?"

The Alchemist picked up one of the Ocean Tears and rolled the vial in his fingers. "These are enhancers."

Enhancers. One of many things that widened the gap between nobles and commoners. Professor Reat had gone into detail in class about how these extremely expensive consumable resources could boost attributes, enhance aether affinities, improve sensing or manipulation, and even help in breakthroughs. Their worth depended on their effects, but even the cheapest was far beyond the reach of a commoner.

"That explains a lot," Seth muttered, the words scraping his throat. Selling one single human had earned the Rogue and Warrior nearly ten times more than he could make in a month in the Fishlords Empire Rift.

Marcus put back the vial alongside the others and turned Seth. "The market for ones that boost Water affinity and Well Capacity like these is quite niche. They won't be easy to sell for me, even with Sericar's help."

Seth exhaled loudly, easily seeing through the Alchemist. "How much are you offering, then?"

"Three silver coins for the lot," Marcus said before gesturing toward all the other herbs and flowers. "And twenty irons for everything else."

"Thirty," Seth said, counter-offering despite not knowing the real values of the herbs.

"Twenty," Marcus growled, taking out three silver coins and twenty iron ones from his money pouch. "Nothing more."

"Fine."

Seth took the coins, turning the yellowish ones over in his hand.

With this, he should finally have enough to purchase Renwal's healing prism, even if he covered the cost for everyone to relocate—a normal house barely cost a few copper coins. But beyond that, his funds would be tight until he could sell all the Black Hounds' gear at Trogan to get some liquidity. Marcus wouldn't be interested in buying such things, so he'd have to wait.

"Do you have a way to contact Vandric?" Seth asked.

The old Alchemist nodded. "Yes. I'll ask him to come by with the healing prism."

"How much do you think he'll charge for the spell and the trip?"

"Probably twenty irons total."

"Alright," Seth said, casting a brief glance at the box of gear. "If I give everyone five or six hundred common coins to relocate, I'd still have a few dozen irons left. What could that get me from that box?"

"Hmm," Marcus mumbled, rubbing his white beard. "There's a spell I could let you have at a discount—I couldn't sell it to anyone else even if I wanted to."

Seth's eyes lit up with excitement. "What grade is it? Uncommon? Rare?"

At the academy's shop, Iron Tier spells ranged in price from ten iron coins to twenty silvers, depending on their grade—except for Two-Tiered spells, which could cost ten to fifty times more. So, it should be at least Uncommon if it was worth a few dozen irons.

"No," Marcus answered while reaching into the box and pulling out a dusty spell scroll, which he then set down on the counter.

Frowning, Seth channeled aether into Identify's grooves.

Phantom Punch (Standard)

Spell-scroll

Tier: Iron

Grade: Legendary

Affinity: Undead

Restrictions:

- Primalist

- 75 Strength and 70 Arcane Power

- High-Iron Undead affinity (REMOVED)

- Draerian's blood (ADDED)

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