B4 - Chapter 3: Issue

Seth, Kaelen, and Marcus continued their way through the streets of Asethka, yet this time they were following Aemon.

Curious and reverent glances trailed their group, though almost every pair of eyes landed on the city's appointed ruler. And Seth couldn't have been more relieved.

Between the dense flow of pedestrians and Aemon's commanding presence, passing merchants, mercenaries, and adventurers barely spared Seth enough attention to notice his eyes. One offer of a duel to the death was enough for today.

'Do you think that guard reacted that way because of your contributions during the war... or because of your Clan name? Elrod?' Nightmare asked through Link.

'Probably the latter,' Seth replied.

He struggled to imagine a Platinum-tier Wielder—someone who had broken through multiple Tier caps and fought incredible beasts—being caught off guard by the achievements of an Iron during a war between two weak nations.

His Clan name, however... that was another matter entirely.

From everything Seth had learned, his father was practically a living legend in Asethka.

Ulric Elrod.

The name still sat at the very top of both the Silver- and Gold-tier non-Legacy leaderboards of Shenlong's Tower.

Unfortunately, since there was a separation between Legacy and non-Legacy rankings, Seth's earlier excitement about attempting the tower's trial himself had decreased.

The moment he entered and his name appeared under the rankings, everyone would immediately know he was a Legacy bearer.

That's going to be a problem.

Seth glanced toward Marcus walking ahead of him.

He would have to ask the old Alchemist later on whether challengers could conceal their identities on the public leaderboards. Otherwise, his name on the board would reveal one of Seth's most dangerous secrets.

Gradually, the oppressive density of Asethka's central districts faded as Aemon led them onto a series of broad, majestic avenues.

Pristine white flagstones had replaced the rough cobblestones beneath their feet. Ivory statues of gods lined the streets, vines coiling around their bases and climbing toward their shoulders. Some of the monuments rose higher than the surrounding manor and transformed the entire district into something that looked like a vast cultivated garden.

Civilian traffic dwindled considerably as the four men ventured deeper into the wealthy district. The number of armed guards did the opposite.

A few adventurers and silk-clad merchants had gathered in the central plaza before the giant palace—the same structure Seth had spotted from the hill of the Recall Altar.

In front of the gathering stood a giant board carved from a slab of obsidian. Lines of text burned across its surface in dark-golden aether.

As they approached, Seth squinted and studied the writing. At first he assumed it was some kind of combat leaderboard, like the rankings Marcus had described for Shenlong's Tower, but then he realized his mistake: it was a ranking for factions.

A fluctuating numerical score glowed beside each of the organization's names, ordering them from highest to lowest.

Seth's eyes moved to the first five entries.

Neither the Adventurers' Guild nor the Oracle Guild appeared there. He supposed that made sense. Those organizations were probably too large to be included. As Seth expected, the Five Pillars dominated the top positions.

The Black Lions occupied first place by an absurd margin. House Grava sat firmly in second, though its score barely reached a third of Myrantha's faction's.

Seth narrowed his eyes at the shifting golden numbers beside the different organizations' names. It went from a few thousand to millions.

What exactly are these points measuring?

Was it some direct calculation of the potential Marcus had mentioned earlier? Or was the score some kind of stockpile from the achievements of every member belonging to each of the factions?

Seth's gaze moved down the rankings, ignoring the dozens of names he didn't recognize, until it reached the very bottom of the final column. One familiar name occupied the lowest position: Champions of Chaos.

Seth snapped his head toward Marcus.

The old Alchemist met his gaze and offered him a subtle nod, silently expressing that they would discuss the matter later.

They followed Aemon away from the plaza and entered the sprawling palace.

Armed guards stood at watch throughout the corridors. Dense waves of aether rolled from their dark plate armor, marking every one of them as a Gold or Platinum Wielder.

Large marble pillars soared toward a high, vaulted ceiling. Painted portraits covered the pristine white walls, depicting what seemed to be legendary Wielders alongside deities.

Seth recognized several from the stories his mother had told him as a child: Dolomiris sleeping peacefully in an enormous bed, Gaia surrounded by twisting vines, and Hemeris wreathed in blinding sunlight. Dozens of other mythical figures were also there, some familiar, others totally unknown to him—and yet none of their painting held his attention like the mural dominating the far end of the hall.

The thing stretched from floor to ceiling. A colossal tower pierced the heavens and stood above a desolate wasteland smothered in ash. Coiled around its blue stone spire was an enormous serpentine dragon with a long body that wound around the structure several times. The beast's claws dug into the building while long whiskers flanked its snout.

The artist had captured the creature with such detail that Seth almost expected to see its body shift across the canvas.

There was something undeniably terrifying about it. Yet strangely enough, it was also welcoming.

"Let's head to the meeting chamber," Aemon said, pulling Seth from his thoughts.

The ruler turned sharply down the corridor.

They followed him through several pristine, echoing halls before reaching a pair of ornate mahogany doors. Aemon pushed them open and gestured for Seth and Marcus to enter.

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Then his gaze shifted to the Dark Assassin trailing behind them. "It would be best if you waited outside."

His polite tone left absolutely no room for negotiation.

Fortunately, Kaelen didn't argue. "Sure."

Seth glanced at him before crossing the threshold.

Unlike the halls outside, the chamber was devoid of decoration, and a single large wooden table dominated the room.

A detailed map of Asethka had been carved directly into its surface, depicting everything from the city's districts and walls to its major roads and waterways.

Aemon walked to the far end and took his seat before gesturing toward the heavy leather chairs lining either side. "Please."

Seth and Marcus pulled out their chairs and sat across from Asethka's ruler.

Seth's eyes wandered across the massive map before him.

As his gaze moved across the timber, he mentally noted the major landmarks: the enormous compound belonging to the Adventurers Guild, the giant building of the Oracle Guild, and the distinct territories controlled by each of the Five Pillars.

Aemon cleared his throat, pulling Seth's attention away from the map. "Well... your arrival was considerably less chaotic than I expected."

"This is merely the beginning," Marcus replied with a long sigh.

Aemon let out a dry chuckle. "Yes. I suppose you're right."

Seth remained silent, studying the strange familiarity between the city's ruler and the old Alchemist.

After a brief pause, Aemon turned his full attention toward Seth. "Marcus has explained the basics of your situation to me, including how you came to live in Kastal," the man began. "Given the isolation imposed by its former king, I assume you know very little about Asethka's culture or history."

"That's right, Sir," Seth admitted.

"Entirely understandable." Aemon folded his hands over the polished table. "You see, Seth, your father was something of a living legend in Asethka for quite some time."

Seth straightened at the mention of his father, though the man before him continued, "This city has always suffered from one problem: even though Shenlong does his best to remain impartial and judge people by their potential rather than their wealth, status, or origins, there is only so much even he can do to make it fair for everyone."

Aemon tapped at the table with a finger, gaze drifting across the map from what looked like the wealthiest districts to the poorest.

"Inherited Seeds, high-grade spells, expensive gear, or private instructors. The advantages separating someone born into a powerful House from someone raised in the weakest nations are simply too great." The man's expression tightened. "Creating a system capable of comparing everyone only on their potential is impossible."

Just like in Kastal, Seth thought. Those born into wealth will always have an advantage.

"Eventually, Shenlong settled on a compromise. He divided the tower's rankings into two categories based on the greatest advantage of them all." Aemon paused. "Legacies."

Seth kept his expression carefully neutral. Most people already believed he possessed one, but that was no reason to confirm the suspicions.

"You certainly faced a few Legacy bearers during the recent war between the Kastal Kingdom and the Bridan Empire," Aemon continued. "So you've already seen how much of a difference those can create. Even exceptional talent can struggle to overcome it. And unlike most other advantages, Legacies are mainly in the hands of the wealthy and those backed by powerful factions."

Seth nodded but continued to remain silent, all too aware that his own Legacy put him in the same basket as those people.

On one side were Wielders forced to carve their Paths through talent and sheer perseverance, while on the other stood those who had been gifted a map already perfected by some legendary figure.

"For many years, your father's records within Shenlong's Tower surpassed nearly everyone in his Tier, including those who possessed Legacies," Aemon said, genuine reverence entering his voice. "Ulric Elrod became a symbol to the people of Asethka. He was the proof that incredible potential wasn't something reserved for those born into powerful bloodlines or wealth." A smile touched the man's lips. "Naturally, many Legacy-bearers considered it an affront and pushed themselves into exhausting training regimens to reclaim their pride. A handful eventually managed to surpass your father's climbs."

Something stirred deep within Seth. Part of him suddenly wanted to climb that tower despite the risks that would come with exposing the fact he was a Legacy Bearer.

He wanted to stand where his father had once stood and measure his own strength against the person the man had been.

Seth possessed a Legacy, so he could pretend that the comparison was entirely fair. His father had reached those heights without one. But if he climbed higher than everyone, that distinction wouldn't matter. And it would be enough to prove that he was worthy of being Ulric Elrod's son.

"But even today, your father's name remains at the very top of the non-Legacy rankings for both the Silver and Gold Tiers. He still inspires countless young Wielders across Asethka to push beyond what they believe themselves capable of." Aemon hesitated. "Even after... well, everything that happened to those bearing the Elrod name."

"You don't need to hold back your words, Sir," Seth said.

He knew exactly what Aemon was dancing around.

Marcus had already told him what happened after Ulric's exile.

Draeria's rulers had been so enraged by Ulric's betrayal that they had killed everyone who shared his blood. The slaughter had taught Seth how ruthless his homeland was.

Aemon studied Seth for a moment. "You remind me of him," the man said at last, a smile returning to his face. "Brave and determined. And occasionally far too reckless for your own—"

A crushing pressure flooded the chamber and caused Seth to stiffen.

The aura radiated from beneath Marcus' robes: from the necklace concealed against the old Alchemist's chest.

Vorath.

Apparently the wyvern didn't appreciate where the conversation was heading.

Aemon fell silent, and his eyes landed on Marcus' chest before the man cleared his throat and brought his gaze back to Seth.

"Anyway, we are not here to discuss the past." Aemon ignored the oppressive aura still lingering in the chamber. "Marcus informed me that you intend to settle in Asethka for the foreseeable future. To be honest, that decision greatly pleases both Shenlong and me. We are curious to see how much potential you possess, particularly after your performance during Kastal's recent war."

Aemon took a scroll from his pouch and set it atop the table. "Your faction, the Champions of Chaos, has also been fully authorized to participate in the city's affairs. For Kastal to establish a stronger presence here will give your people the opportunity to demonstrate the potential of its next generations."

"I deeply appreciate it, Sir," Seth replied with a nod. "We intend to pull our own weight."

"There is, however, one particular thing we must discuss first."

Seth had expected as much.

Draeria would inevitably come for him sooner or later. Aemon probably just wanted to make sure that when they did, whatever confrontation followed between them and Vorath wouldn't kill half the city in the crossfire.

"Every five years, three coveted temporary Rifts open on the western continent," Aemon explained, casting a glance at Marcus. "Decades ago, competition for access became so violent that the expeditions regularly turned into outright bloodbaths. Eventually, the nations and factions involved agreed to impose strict limits on the number of entrants. Given Asethka's influence, we're allocated ten positions during each cycle. Those slots are normally awarded to the Wielders who demonstrate the greatest potential within their respective Tiers."

Seth frowned. That… wasn't where he'd expected the conversation to go.

He glanced at Marcus, but the old Alchemist's expression remained the exact same. Apparently, this wasn't news to him.

"If you manage to earn one of those slots, which are supposed to be handed out in a few months, it would place Asethka in... let's say a rather delicate position."

Seth's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because Draeria receives entry slots of its own." Aemon's mouth twisted to the side. "And sending you there alongside Draerian representatives would lead to a considerable amount of trouble."

"Then I won't go," Seth answered flatly.

From what he knew, temporary Rifts offered enormous opportunities: rare resources, powerful treasures, and discoveries that could change the future of entire nations. The Legacies that had sparked the war between Kastal and the Bridan Empire had been found in one of such Rifts.

If Seth remained stuck at the Peak of the Iron Tier when the expedition began in a few months, it could also provide the kind of life-or-death challenge he needed to force his breakthrough into Silver.

But securing a foothold in Asethka—and, by extension, for the Champions of Chaos—was likely more important. He couldn't jeopardize everything Orwen and the others had done just for an expedition.

Even if it meant passing up an opportunity to slaughter a few Draerians.

Aemon leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Certain factions would definitely object if we barred someone who had rightfully qualified. Though I agree that for you to abstain would be the easiest fix." The man then waved a hand. "But since it doesn't seem to bother you, we can address that situation if it arises."

Seth nodded.

The conversation then quickly shifted into the practicalities of settling in Asethka. For the next hour, Aemon walked them through residency conditions, operational restrictions, privileges of factions, and the obligations the Champions of Chaos would have to respect while establishing themselves within the city.