Bro, I'm not an Undead!

(Please pardon this repeat chapter. It will be erased and replaced with a new one soon).

In the same building where a loss was being handled with heavy hearts, high up into the exclusive floors, a very important meeting was taking place.

Silrat had managed to catch Alaris with a bit of free time and right now, he was making a very unexpected plea.

“It’s hardly been a month, hasn’t it? What makes you think Festos already requires a re-evaluation?” Alaris asked curiously.

His topaz blue eyes had an inquisitive sheen about them that made them seem like a sea in the night, his handlebar moustache crafted entirely of caramel coloured hairs exposing wisps of wisdom that made Silrat all the more nervous about the results to what he was requesting.

The two sat on a bench opposite the ever-present cubicle of Rist, the receptionist to all executives and other special persons beginning from this floor.

“Festos grows rather quickly, you see. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown in the past few days alone. I guarantee you won’t regret it,” Silrat tried to convince with a confident smile.

Alaris folded his arms, his thick, well contoured muscles showing from the short sleeved shirt he wore.

The black greaves he always sank his legs into each day, clanked against the pristine, clean floor as he shifted them in thought.

“When you came looking for me, I thought you wanted to discuss the matter of Festos’ trial. Isn’t that more important? Or perhaps my instincts are correct in giving me the idea that you asking for a re-evaluation for this gentleman… is your way of trying to foil the repercussions of Festos’ careless actions?” Alaris asked with another sharp glint in his eyes.

“What if it is as your instincts say? I am someone who works on instincts and hunches too, you know?” Silrat launched a question posing as an answer.

Alaris was amused.

“I can tell that you attaining this post wasn’t by chance. You seem to have calculated the risks and benefits thoroughly. I know a motivated man when I see one,” he said. “However, IF I agree to this, there’s something you should know about ranks among the exclusive mercenaries. Perhaps you already know, but I must stress it. To be considered among the ranks 1 to 3, one must truly be extraordinary and their presence is often desired anywhere, anytime.”

The top 3 ranks for exclusive mercenaries were not just given to anyone.

The general rankings, as mentioned before, were governed by strength and arguably most important of all, potential. If the Association was going to funnel resources into an individual, they had to be sure said individual had room to grow.

Skullius’ rank 4 had been given by Alaris because he did show that he had potential but his showing when it came to skill was rather lacking. The power was there to back it up, both physical and all, but the rest was too unrefined to even come close to being considered rank 3 material.

“As you can see, you hardly ever see the other exclusive mercenaries because of missions. And to earn their ranks they either had incredible feats of strength, powerful connections in the Association itself or both. I can tell you now, I don’t see Festos reaching that level as soon as you want me to believe. He can, but not yet. Be patient,” Alaris advised.

Silrat could understand what Alaris was saying.

He knew about the rankings and how strict they were – he researched thoroughly after Skullius was given rank 4.

Part of him wanted to just follow the experienced combatant’s advice, but that wouldn’t fly.

Besides, after all he had been shown and told about Skullius that day when many things were revealed to him about the Hybrid Luman that would shock most, he grew confident.

If Skullius could show a sliver of that to Alaris instead of holding back like he did during the first evaluation…

“I’d be fool not to trust your words. Sadly that is what I am,” Silrat said with dull chuckle. “May I ask, Alaris? When you gained the title of Bloodless Steel Phantom, was it because you were patient, or because you let loose the very peak of your strength in one single instance, claiming both victory and glory?” .

Alaris was a bit taken aback.

“I know. Many within this very city have written you off as a myth. Heck, most of the mercenaries in this very building don’t know your legends from seventy years ago and beyond. Pardon me but I do have a gift for extracting information,” the former Association Branch Head flexed hidden truths that he knew.

Alaris.

This man was mostly respected by those in high places.

Higher Families, higher authorities.

Though Alaris himself didn’t like the attention and had since stopped making flashy movements, records of his feats were still in the world.

How he slaughtered an escaped Cluster General from a purple-blue Cluster with a single, barely perceptible swing of his sword from half a mile away without killing any of the people who had been between him and the monster…

How he had once gotten into a spat with an Incandescent Stage expert from a rich Family, fought him and lived to tell the tale – though with a body full of deep gashes…

How he had gained enough favour from the legendary blacksmith Bozar Menus just by showing one fluid swing with a twig instead of a sword, this feat allowing him to walk away with a Mythical grade sword personally forged by that mysterious man….

Silrat had managed to gather such details in his time in the Association so far.

Such a man…

He didn’t have any right to be talking about patience and taking it slow when he had taken the world by storm, right?

To get what he wanted, this was one of the ways to do it.

To provoke the inner vigour within this legend.

“Bloodless Steel…” Alaris said. “I rejected such an on the nose name. The fact that you even know this name means your prying was done on very specific individuals that I happen to know.”

“I guessed as much,” Silrat confirmed Alaris’ thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is, please spare Festos one chance to show you his growth. You and no one else. It won’t simply be enough. It will surprise you.”

Alaris’ eyes lazily turned to Silrat.

This man didn’t want anyone else to evaluate Skullius but him for this reason, huh?

To impress him?

Such persistence…

“When I talked about motivation earlier… Hmm. You strike me as someone with a heavy ambition. This isn’t simply about Festos, is it?” he asked.

Silrat didn’t see any reason to deny it. It was all but obvious.

“That’s true.”

Alaris nodded, his eyes keenly searching for something in Silrat’s focused sight.

He found it.

“Hmmm. Good. I’ll do it. Just a single chance though,” he said with a smile.

Silrat sighed in relief.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t pat yourself too much on the back. I’ve always been curious about how a Mage, as you said this Festos was, could Class Branch to the extent that he seems more like a jack of all trades in terms of Classes,” Alaris said with a chuckle.

“That’s our mysterious young MAGE for you,” Silrat gave an exaggerated smile.

He too had wondered the same thing.

Thank goodness for the correction.

If this manoeuvre of his were to succeed, Silrat fully expected much more than just Skullius having his rank re-evaluated.

No.

That was too shallow.

Now that he could help Skullius without the threat of dying a horrendous death, he aimed to make full use of his skills at gathering information, leadership and scouting talent to steadily rise in order to achieve his goal.

A goal that he hadn’t told anyone.

The only person who had known the entire objective that Silrat was after had died without seeing what Silrat had accomplished so far, much to the former Branch Head’s dissatisfaction.

It was his father.

Silrat shook his head.

No need to dwell on the past.

All he needed now was to carve a clear path.

In terms of position, evaluation officers and the post that Silrat had now as a scout were at the same level authority wise.

Alaris was an exception as he could literally become whatever he wanted with his reputation but had not gone that route because he wanted to keep his heart alight by constantly meeting new, strong talents in the Association.

After this level came the Supervising Overseers.

An example of such was the stern man with the formal get up whom Skullius had met the day he got his identification.

(A/N: Refer to Ch.460).

Their job was to oversee scouts and the exclusive mercenaries they represented.

Above the Overseers was the General Board of the Association, governed by the Branch Head and a number of corresponding members.

‘There wasn’t such an intricate structure in Inhone City,’ Silrat lamented inwardly. ‘But here, the clearly defined hierarchy makes it easy for me to rise step by step.’