Chapter 841 - 851 - Seran

Chapter 841: Chapter 851 - Seran

Lucien moved through the city without hurrying.

He observed as he walked.

The city was full of opportunities. Some were obvious. Others required more thought.

Eventually, he reached a pub.

The building was larger than most of the surrounding shops, with a broad wooden sign hanging above its entrance and enough noise leaking through the doors that Lucien could hear laughter from across the street.

He slowed.

If he wanted information, this was probably his best chance.

People guarded their words in markets.

They guarded them even more around officials.

Alcohol tended to weaken that instinct.

Lucien entered.

Nobody stopped him.

At sixteen, he was already considered an adult by the customs of this era, and the young men drinking inside did not look much older than him anyway.

The pub was crowded but not chaotic.

Most tables were occupied by laborers, guards off duty, travelers, merchants, craftsmen, and men who had apparently decided that tomorrow’s problems could wait.

Lucien chose a place near the corner.

He ordered something light and barely touched it.

His real attention remained elsewhere.

Even without supernatural hearing, Lucien had spent enough of his life processing battlefields, meetings, and crowded environments that separating one conversation from another came naturally.

He listened.

At first, most of what he heard was useless.

A merchant was complaining about salt prices.

Two hunters were arguing over whose dog had frightened off a deer.

Several men near the center were discussing a local fighter who had apparently lost three matches in a row.

Lucien learned names.

He learned which districts were considered wealthy and which streets people avoided after midnight.

He learned that caravans from the west had been arriving late more often because animals were behaving strangely along several forest roads.

That caught his attention.

He listened longer.

Several travelers claimed birds had abandoned entire stretches of woodland.

Another man insisted he had seen deer crossing open farmland in broad daylight.

Nobody agreed on why.

Lucien stored the information away.

Then another conversation reached him.

"Did you hear about that young man who crossed the Iron Jackals earlier today?"

Lucien’s eyes shifted.

The speaker was a broad man with flushed cheeks and a half-empty mug in front of him.

His companion laughed.

"You mean that performer with the pretty girl?"

The first man nodded.

"What a pity. He picked the wrong people this time."

"Another unfortunate soul."

Lucien’s expression changed.

Performer.

Pretty girl.

He did not need much more.

He rose.

The men noticed him approaching, but Lucien did not speak to them immediately.

Instead, he caught the attention of one of the serving girls and quietly ordered another round for their table.

He paid with part of the money Cienna had given him.

For a brief moment, Lucien imagined her expression if she discovered how he was spending it.

He decided that ignorance was kinder.

The fresh bottles arrived.

Both men stared at them.

Then they looked at Lucien.

One of them laughed.

"Young man, you did not need to do that just to ask something."

The other raised his bottle.

"Still, you understand how this works."

Lucien smiled and sat beside them.

"Big brothers, you were talking about the con artist earlier, right?"

The laughter faded slightly.

Both men studied him.

Lucien kept his expression easy.

He did not look like a city guard.

He did not look like one of the Iron Jackals.

More importantly, he had just bought them beer.

The suspicion disappeared.

The broader man leaned back.

"That fellow is famous enough around here."

Lucien nodded.

"I only arrived today."

"Then you picked a good day."

Lucien doubted that.

The man took another drink.

"His name is Seran."

Lucien’s fingers tightened slightly around his cup.

So even the name was the same.

The second man leaned forward.

"He used to travel with a performer caravan."

Lucien listened.

The story unfolded slowly.

Seran had once belonged to a troupe that traveled from kingdom to kingdom.

They were not simple musicians.

They performed plays, acrobatics, illusions, imitation acts, comedy, juggling, animal tricks, and anything else that could gather a crowd.

Apparently, Seran had been one of their more popular performers because he could imitate voices, posture, and mannerisms disturbingly well.

Lucien almost smiled.

’Of course he could.’

The drunken man continued.

"The girl was not originally with them."

"Aurelia?" Lucien asked carefully.

Both men looked at him.

"So you know her name."

"I heard someone mention it."

That explanation was apparently good enough.

Aurelia, according to city rumor, had come from a noble household in a neighboring kingdom.

Nobody in the pub knew exactly which family.

Some claimed her father was a duke.

Others insisted the family was wealthy but lower in rank.

What everyone agreed on was that Seran met her while the caravan was performing there.

They became close.

Then closer.

The troupe noticed.

Apparently, instead of discouraging it, the performers had treated the romance as entertainment until they realized it was serious.

Lucien found that strangely fitting.

The problem came later.

Aurelia had already been promised to someone else.

The arrangement had been made by her family.

By the time the marriage approached, she had apparently made her choice.

Seran and the caravan helped her escape.

One of the drunkards laughed when he reached that part.

"They stole the bride before the ceremony."

The second man corrected him.

"She walked out willingly."

"Still stole her."

"Only if you ask the groom."

Lucien closed his eyes briefly.

Seran had abducted a noblewoman.

’Of course he had.’

At least Aurelia had apparently wanted to leave.

The caravan had already planned its route carefully.

They crossed the border quickly and returned to this kingdom, where political agreements between the two realms prevented the neighboring nobles from simply sending armed men across without consequences.

The scandal made the troupe more famous.

Aurelia eventually joined their performances.

Her role was fortune telling.

Lucien nearly choked.

The man beside him noticed.

"Something wrong?"

"No."

Lucien lowered his cup.

"Please continue."

Aurelia used a crystal ball.

She wore elaborate clothes, spoke mysteriously, studied palms, and told people about love, luck, wealth, and danger.

Lucien stared into the table.

Future Aurelia had become one of the greatest diviners he knew.

Ancient Aurelia had apparently begun as a fake fortune teller with a crystal ball.

He did not know whether to laugh or be concerned.

The story changed after that.

The men became quieter.

The caravan had disappeared several months earlier.

At first, people assumed they had simply taken another road.

Then Seran and Aurelia returned alone.

Nobody knew exactly what happened.

Seran claimed the caravan had been destroyed while passing through a forest affected by the recent disturbances.

According to him, something enormous attacked them.

A dragon.

The word tightened something inside Lucien.

The drunkards did not seem convinced.

"People laughed at him," one said. "Who believes a performer talking about dragons?"

"Not as many laugh now," the other muttered.

Lucien thought about his village.

They had seen one.

If Seran was telling the truth, then the creature near the village had not been an isolated case.

Or perhaps the same dragon had been moving through the region.

Either possibility mattered.

"What happened to the others?" Lucien asked.

The men shrugged.

"Seran says they stayed behind so the two of them could escape."

"Nobody found bodies?"

"Not that I heard."

Lucien frowned.

That was worth remembering.

Afterward, Seran and Aurelia settled in the city.

They survived through performance.

Aurelia returned to fortune telling.

Seran performed whenever he could.

He also began... cheating people.

That part of the story came with surprisingly little anger.

Lucien noticed.

"You do not seem to dislike him."

The broad man laughed.

"Depends who you ask."

His companion grinned.

"Seran has rules."

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

Apparently, Seran preferred targets who were already cheating others.

One merchant had become infamous for filling the bottoms of grain sacks with stones to increase their weight.

Seran approached him disguised as a minor purchasing agent from a wealthy household and arranged a large order.

Before payment, Seran somehow convinced the merchant to demonstrate his honesty by weighing several random sacks publicly.

The sacks Seran selected were the ones filled with stones.

The merchant was humiliated in front of customers and forced to reimburse several buyers.

Seran disappeared with the deposit the merchant had offered to secure the supposed noble contract.

Lucien stared.

"That is elaborate."

The drunkard laughed.

"That is Seran."

Another time, a moneylender had been collecting debts using false records.

Seran impersonated one of the man’s distant business associates, produced copied account books, and convinced him that an audit was coming from the city administration.

The lender panicked and paid several people to retrieve incriminating records from his own agents.

Seran made sure those records ended up in front of actual officials.

The moneylender lost most of what he had collected illegally.

Seran vanished before anyone could prove how involved he had been.

Lucien rubbed his forehead.

Future Seran suddenly made more sense than he wanted.

"He leaves evidence?" Lucien asked.

"Usually."

The second man nodded.

"Enough that the people he cheats cannot complain too loudly without exposing what they were doing."

That was clever.

Dangerously clever.

It also explained why they seemed amused rather than angry when Seran’s name came up.