Chapter 345: Each Clone Possesses 99% of Luke’s Power!

After Zevan settled into his seat, the three finally began discussing what they had accomplished since arriving in Arvelon.

"The Prime Archive has already established a small network across the Common District and the Undercity, including street informants, tavern workers, caravan guards, scribes, and several independent brokers," Zevan began, leaning back against his chair as the faint noise from the tavern below reached the private room. "However, most of the information we’re receiving is still local, so the next step is planting people inside the Noble, Adventurer, Mercantile, Academy, and Holy Districts."

"That’s going to be difficult," Warren and Frederic replied almost simultaneously, causing both of them to glance toward one another before Warren continued.

"The Broken Halo has already received several assassination requests involving targets inside those districts, but I declined every one of them because, from what I’ve gathered, even the established assassins operating in Arvelon rarely dare to make a move there."

Frederic nodded in agreement before adding, "The Thirteenth Key has already completed a few small deliveries inside those districts, and I’ve personally seen some of their security arrangements. Guards are hidden almost everywhere, and in several places, I sensed people who were at least A-Rank."

Hearing that, Zevan and Warren both became quiet.

The Thirteenth Key had originally been created so Frederic could sell some of the valuable products generated by Luke’s system, but that plan had barely started because their main body was currently hoarding nearly every accumulated daily charge to improve the quality of whatever rewards he wanted for himself.

As a result, Frederic had been forced to rely on knowledge inherited from Luke’s previous world to establish his business, and one of the first products he introduced was a basic firearm that used black powder to propel its ammunition.

Even that had already begun creating problems.

The merchant groups operating in Arvelon weren’t fools, and several of them had quickly realized that a weapon like this could change certain parts of the market if production expanded.

"Even though firearms are practically useless against higher-ranked people, mortals and lower-ranked cultivators still find them extremely useful," Zevan said, giving a small nod as he remembered the reports passing through the Prime Archive. "Sales have already started increasing, and I’ve even received information that several nobles are trying to obtain the production method."

As he finished speaking, Zevan suddenly laughed.

"Hahaha! Those fools actually believed Frederic was working alone and sent D-Rank assassins after him."

Frederic’s mouth twitched when he heard that because, unfortunately, it was completely true.

If their main body hadn’t specifically instructed them to remain low-profile during the early stages, those assassins wouldn’t have survived long enough to realize their mistake, because each clone currently possessed roughly ninety-nine percent of Luke’s individual capability. They couldn’t reproduce the unpredictable miracles Luke sometimes created on the spot because that required the main consciousness actively controlling everything, but they could still use techniques Luke had already formed and mastered, giving each clone combat power somewhere within the Mid-to-High B-Rank range.

Warren casually lifted his wine glass before saying, "It’s fine for now. If they keep sending people, we can simply erase a few of their assassin bases and make the message clear, as long as none of those organizations are backed by the Imperials."

The moment he mentioned the **Imperials**, the expressions on all three clones immediately became unpleasant.

During their fourteen days in Arvelon, they had learned enough about the Human Imperial Family to understand that provoking them casually would be idiotic.

The Imperial bloodline itself was frighteningly strong, with even many of its younger members already standing above C-Rank, while the defenses surrounding the Imperial Palace were on an entirely different level. The restricted region around the palace stretched for nearly a hundred kilometers, and nearly every layer of it contained guards, formations, detection methods, or hidden protectors whose true strength the clones still couldn’t properly determine.

"Even after fourteen days, we still haven’t found anything useful regarding Seraphina," Frederic finally said, and the earlier humor inside the room disappeared.

All three released faint sighs.

Before sending them to Arvelon, Luke had given them another important task: discover what had truly happened to **Aurielle’s mother, Seraphina**, and determine where she had been imprisoned.

Luke had never directly pressed Aurielle for the details, yet every time her mother’s name appeared, he could see the sadness she tried to hide, and because of that, he had quietly decided to investigate the matter himself.

"All we’ve confirmed is that the official records label her as a traitor, while almost nobody outside the Imperial side seems to know anything beyond that," Zevan said, tapping one finger against the table. "Whatever happened was buried extremely well."

All three already suspected that the matter involved something deeper inside the Empire, but suspicion alone was useless when they currently lacked the power and access necessary to force their way into places controlled by the Imperial Family.

Luke understood that better than anyone, which was one of the reasons he had created these hidden organizations in the first place, particularly The Broken Halo.

If direct power couldn’t solve something, then there would eventually be situations where a quieter method was required.

Frederic suddenly turned toward Warren.

"So, how is the plan to kill those viscounts progressing?"

Warren calmly took another sip of wine while Zevan also shifted his attention toward him, because despite developing separate personalities, the three clones had inherited another trait from Luke that hadn’t weakened in the slightest.

They remembered grudges.

While Luke had been away from Blackstone, those ten viscounts had dared to bring their C-Rank forces into his territory, and none of the clones had forgotten it.

"Everything is already prepared," Warren answered after lowering his glass onto the table. "At the moment, none of the Broken Halo’s actual members are above Peak D-Rank, while the strongest forces belonging to those viscounts reach Mid C-Rank."

Zevan and Frederic nodded, because eliminating the viscounts wouldn’t simply mean dealing with the ten nobles themselves; their estates contained Early C-Rank combatants, guards, retainers, and numerous lower-ranked forces that could turn a direct assault into unnecessary trouble.

Warren, however, showed no concern.

"My people have already infiltrated portions of their forces, so I know their movements. Tomorrow, all ten viscounts are scheduled to attend a gathering hosted by a Count who serves under another Marquis."

The moment those words left his mouth, understanding appeared across the other two clones’ faces.

Warren continued without making them ask.

"So instead of wasting time destroying their armies one by one, the three of us will make the move personally and eliminate all ten Mid C-Rank viscounts during the same gathering."

Smiles gradually appeared across Zevan and Frederic’s faces.

If this had happened earlier, when Luke’s foundation was still only at the Bronze Knight level, silently killing ten Mid C-Rank nobles surrounded by guards would have been considerably more troublesome. Now, however, with their Silver-Rank foundation and combat strength reaching into High B-Rank through Luke’s established Titan techniques, none of them considered the viscounts themselves a serious threat.

Frederic leaned back slightly before saying, "Ten human nobles dying at the same gathering is going to create quite a bit of chaos throughout the region."

Zevan looked toward him for a moment before a grin appeared on his face.

"Haha! And what exactly does that have to do with us?"

Warren’s lips curled upward as well, and within moments, laughter filled the private room.

"Hahahaha!"

They truly didn’t care.

Even if sections of the Human Continent eventually descended into war, that alone wouldn’t make them lose sleep, because the people and things Luke considered his own mattered far more to them than some abstract stability belonging to nobles who had already chosen to become his enemies.

"Alright, then we’ll leave now," Frederic eventually said after their laughter subsided.

The three stood from their seats and left the private room together, descending through the tavern before casually walking out into the crowded street outside, where people were still moving between shops and drinking establishments despite the late hour.

However, only moments after they departed—

"AHHHH! MURDER!"

A woman’s shriek suddenly exploded from somewhere above, immediately drawing the attention of several customers and pedestrians near the tavern.

"What happened?!"

"Someone’s dead upstairs!"

A waitress who had gone into the private room to collect the plates had frozen near the doorway, her face pale as she stared toward the ceiling.

Pinned against the roof above her was a man completely dressed in black, his body held there by five small daggers driven through his clothing and flesh, while the only part of his face left uncovered was his pair of wide, lifeless eyes.

There were no signs that he had fought back.

Whatever had killed him had happened so quickly that he seemed to have died without even understanding what had occurred.

Beside the corpse, several words had been written across the ceiling in blood.

***Petty tricks.***

By the time frightened voices began spreading through the tavern, Zevan, Warren, and Frederic had already moved farther down the street.

Frederic glanced toward Zevan while continuing to walk.

"Which organization did that man belong to?"

Even though Warren had been the one who killed the assassin, Zevan was naturally the one who possessed the relevant information.

"The same organization that’s been targeting you."

Frederic gave a faint nod and immediately lost interest in the subject, because that group was hardly the only organization that currently wanted him dead.

Ever since the firearm business began expanding, several different groups had quietly placed bounties on his head.

A few breaths later, the three clones entered a particularly crowded section of the street, where merchants, adventurers, laborers, and late-night travelers continuously crossed one another’s paths.

Then, without attracting a single unusual glance from anyone nearby, all three disappeared among the moving crowd.