Chapter 89: The Chains of the Sovereign

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: The Chains of the Sovereign

"Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains." — Jean-Jacques Rousseau, The Social Contract

•••

Dusk in the Tenth Stratum wasn’t marked by time, but by a change in the sky’s color.

Joel crossed the rubble of the ruined temple, heading toward the final treasure he had come to claim.

The split vault had survived the island breaking in half, its strong foundations keeping it intact.

Inside, the Apex Tear still floated in its cracked holder.

It was no larger than a fist, glowing with the same ancient light it had carried since the Fall.

Everything around it had been destroyed, but the Tear remained unchanged.

Its light stretched across the broken floor until it reached Joel’s boots.

Just as it had illuminated the clean temple floor that morning.

And just as it had done for countless years, long before the academy existed.

[Ding!]

[Apex Tear: verification in progress.]

[The counterparty is examining the collection instrument.]

The Apex Tear began examining Joel.

It carried the power of the Fall and the ancient secrets surrounding it.

Whatever had fallen all those ages ago seemed unwilling to let just anyone claim its power.

An invisible force spread across fifty meters, reaching into Joel’s mind.

But instead of finding his thoughts, it encountered the mysterious sealed black box protecting them.

The force tried to break through.

But the seal held firm.

In the end, the Tear received nothing but static.

TCK!

[Ding!]

[Verification complete. The counterparty recognizes the instrument.]

[It notes that every previous applicant was declined. It is keeping the file.]

Joel stretched out his hand.

The Apex Tear floated out of its cracked holder without resistance, as though it had finally recognized its rightful owner.

Despite its small size, it carried the weight of countless ages.

Then it entered Joel’s possession, making a faint sound like a coin dropping into a deep well.

PLIP!

[Ding!]

[Apex Tear: collected.]

[Appraisal: declined, pending. The item has never been priced. The house has never been deterred.]

[The Tenth Stratum: cleared. First recorded clearance in the history of the ledger.]

[The cartography is complete. The invoice is paid.]

First clearance.

Those two words alone could be worth more than the Apex Tear in the right markets.

Joel quietly recorded them alongside the artifact, keeping the information among the valuable secrets even the greatest cities knew nothing about.

He remained inside the vault for another moment, looking at the empty holder above the cracked floor.

Outside, the Tenth Stratum began to settle.

The surrounding storms slowed slightly.

The two halves of the shattered island stopped grinding against each other.

Far above, lightning returned to an area it had avoided for countless years.

The ancient power that once ruled this place was gone.

And the sky seemed to recognize its new master.

Joel finally turned away from the empty vault.

His gaze moved toward the bridge of light.

There was still one more matter to settle.

•••

Thirty-seven students stood on the far island with Proctor Harrison, whose injuries had already healed.

And they had witnessed everything.

They had watched Joel destroy the Eclipse Syndicate’s forces, behead Valerius, and fight the Blood-Fiend Behemoth.

They had seen the creature burn his flesh down to the bone, only for golden light to restore his body.

They had watched an ancient god rise from beneath the temple, control the sky, and fall to Joel’s overwhelming power.

Then they had watched that same god rise again as his servant.

No amount of money in Spire-City could make them forget what they had witnessed.

And every student understood how valuable that information was.

They could sell Joel’s secrets to his enemies.

Or they could keep those secrets and work for him.

Joel knew the difference.

A witness who could be bought by someone else was a threat.

A witness bound by an agreement was an asset.

And Joel had no intention of leaving thirty-seven potential threats behind.

He already had a solution.

It was something he had used before, long before this expedition.

With that in mind, he crossed the bridge.

The glowing bridge held firm beneath forty pairs of boots.

As Joel approached, the students watched him nervously.

Nobody tried to escape.

After everything they had seen, where could they possibly run?

Soon, all thirty-seven students gathered among the ruins on the temple’s remaining half.

Nobody had ordered them into formation.

Yet they stood in neat rows, leaving equal spaces between one another.

Above them, Aurelius remained suspended in the sky, his enormous wings folded.

Golden light from his wings illuminated the gathering.

Vulcan guarded the surrounding area.

Thalassa stood beside her gathered waters.

Nyx was nowhere to be seen.

Which, as far as Joel was concerned, meant she could be anywhere.

She had already counted the students twice.

Joel raised a sheet of gray paper.

"This is the same agreement I gave Roan and Sybill," he announced.

The students listened carefully.

"You’ve seen what I’m capable of. Now I’m offering you a place under my protection."

He glanced across the gathering.

"The terms are simple."

Then he began reading.

Loyalty to Joel whenever he required it.

Complete secrecy concerning the Tenth Stratum and everything they had witnessed.

Service to Joel whenever he required their assistance, with his organization receiving the first right to employ their abilities at the agreed rate.

In exchange, they would receive his protection, financial support, and assistance in settling or restructuring the debts their families had forced upon them.

Joel lowered the paper.

"Break the agreement, and you’ll face the consequences."

His expression remained calm.

"You’ve already seen what happens when the house collects its debts."

He paused.

"There were more enemies standing here this morning."

While Joel spoke, Nyx had been moving through the shadows, producing copies of the agreement.

By the time he finished, thirty-seven gray sheets lay on the rubble.

Silence followed.

For three full seconds, nobody moved.

Everyone was calculating what signing would mean.

A young heir from a shipping family thought about the enormous loans his relatives owed.

A ward-mage considered how much powerful organizations might pay for her silence.

And another student, whose wealthy family had purchased his place in the expedition, remembered what that privilege had almost cost him.

Joel had saved his life.

Something his family’s money hadn’t been able to guarantee.

Finally, someone spoke.

"You’re asking us to sell our souls."

It was one of the Warden twins.

His shoulder was still bandaged, but his voice remained firm.

"To a first-year student."

Joel looked at him.

"I’m offering to invest in your futures."

He gestured toward the ruined battlefield.

"The Syndicate was willing to kill you for whatever profit it could make. Your families have been buying your positions and making decisions about your lives since you were eleven."

He pointed toward the agreements.

"Read the terms. Sign if you want."

Then his gaze swept across the gathering.

"But understand where you’re standing. Everyone under my protection has a future. You’ve already seen what happens to those who make themselves my enemies."

Nobody answered.

Then someone stepped forward.

Victor Kole.

He didn’t wait for anyone else.

He walked toward the pile of agreements and picked up the top sheet.

Then he began reading.

He examined every line carefully.

When he reached the end, he started again.

Only after reading the entire document twice did he take the pen.

He signed his name.

TIK-TIK!

Then he placed the pen down.

For the first time, Victor looked like someone who had finally made a decision for himself.

"He didn’t even hesitate," someone whispered behind him.

Victor didn’t turn around.

"I checked everything," he replied. "That’s not the same as hesitating."

His answer made several students exchange glances.

Then the others began moving.

One after another, they approached the agreements.

TIK-TIK!

Thirty-six more signatures followed.

An heiress signed using her family’s official seal, then pressed her thumbprint over it for extra confirmation.

Joel accepted both.

The Warden twins signed side by side, their hands moving almost together.

A third-year student who had spent most of the ambush crying behind the ballista signed with trembling fingers.

He accidentally stained his cuff with ink.

But he didn’t stop.

He finished signing and stepped aside.

Joel watched everything calmly.

Every agreement. Every signature. Every new obligation.

The house kept its records.

And now, thirty-seven more names had been added to them.

[Ding!]

[Signatories: 37 of 37.]

[The next generation of the Inner City’s nobility: filed, audited, and bound.]

[Note: the house has never held a portfolio like this one. It was assembled in an afternoon, at the cost of one page each.]

Proctor Harrison stood at the edge of the gathering, ninety percent healed but still leaning slightly to one side.

He didn’t sign the agreement.

He didn’t need to.

His arrangement with Joel had already been established on the island, and his obligations were still growing.

He watched the students finish signing with the expression of a man who had stopped being surprised by Joel’s actions and had quietly begun working for him.

"Dispatches," Harrison said. "The city will want a report."

"It’ll get one," Joel replied. "My version. Word for word. Everyone here will know what to say before we dock."

"And if the city prefers a different story?"

"The city prefers whatever keeps its children safe and their families out of debt," Joel said. "I’m the only one offering both. Practice your lines on the way back."

Harrison glanced at the thirty-seven students.

Their signed agreements were already being collected.

Above them, Aurelius remained suspended in the sky, his enormous wings folded.

Harrison had a feeling he would soon be responsible for explaining that creature’s presence to the academy.

He sighed and returned to checking the list of wounded students for the third time.

At least that was something he still understood.

Once the final agreement was collected, all thirty-seven pages entered Joel’s ledger, stored alongside the priceless Apex Tear.

Across the strait, the air stirred.

The two broken halves of the island slowly ground against each other in the darkness, finally beginning to settle.

Joel considered everything he had gained.

Four powerful generals.

Thirty-seven students bound by agreements.

One proctor already under his influence.

One priceless Apex Tear secured in his possession.

And the distinction of being the first person in history to clear the Tenth Stratum.

His Fate-Bound Legion now commanded the land, sea, shadows, and sky.

More importantly, he had secured the loyalty of thirty-seven young talents whose futures could influence the Inner City for decades.

The expedition had given him far more than he originally came for.

And now, only one thing remained.

It was time to return home.