Chapter 178: The Immortal Ring

At the same time, Lucian decided that House Veymont would continue releasing limited amounts of grain to the settlements and households in greatest need. Officials were to keep careful records of what was distributed and where it went, allowing the available supplies to reach those least able to provide for themselves.

The aim was to help families remain on their land and give them a chance to plant again when the time came, rather than let a poor harvest force them to abandon the livelihoods they had worked to rebuild.

That still left the question of where to obtain more grain.

Merchants who had once carried goods through Veymont territory were already becoming reluctant to use some of its roads. Repeated robberies had made journeys unpredictable, while hiring escorts and replacing lost goods ate into their profits. With grain commanding higher prices, suppliers had little reason to risk the journey when they could sell their goods elsewhere. The shortage had made new shipments more necessary just as the cost and danger of bringing them in had increased.

Lucian’s officials contacted merchants with whom the house still maintained good relations, seeking regular shipments from outside the territory rather than relying on occasional purchases. The responses, however, were cautious.

Some merchants were willing to bring limited quantities if the house arranged armed escorts through the most dangerous stretches of road. Others wanted the Count to cover additional transport expenses and accept responsibility for part of any losses suffered by their convoys. A few refused to make the journey at all while the attacks continued.

Lucian considered what the house could realistically offer. He could assign soldiers to escort the shipments, though doing so would leave fewer men available to patrol other parts of the territory. He could also agree to cover certain additional costs or compensate merchants for verified losses under clearly defined conditions.

What he could not do was guarantee every journey would be safe or accept unlimited responsibility for whatever might go wrong. Terms that persuaded a merchant to make one delivery would be of little use if they left House Veymont unable to afford another.

He also sent word to Duke Vendettit, explaining the growing shortage and asking whether the duke’s wider connections could help secure merchants willing to supply the territory. Lucian needed more than a single fortunate purchase.

He needed a reliable way to bring food into Veymont without leaving the house burdened with costs it could not sustain. Any arrangements would also have to account for the needs of the Viscounts and lesser nobles, whose settlements faced the same difficulties and could not all depend on the Count’s stores.

While he waited for a response, Lucian authorised the purchases the treasury could afford and approved guarded shipments wherever suitable arrangements could be made. Some grain would cost far more than the house would ordinarily have considered reasonable, leaving little or no profit if it were sold onward. He accepted that. The purpose was to bring food into the territory and ease the shortage, not to profit from people already struggling to feed themselves.

He instructed Master Corren to record the cost of relief separately from the house’s ordinary expenses. Corren was to distinguish the money spent on grain from the income still expected from the mines and farms, while also keeping track of payments that had been delayed.

Lucian wanted regular updates on the house’s expenditure, the supplies remaining in its stores, and the income it could still count on. Before committing to further assistance, he needed to know how much more the family could afford without putting essential expenses at risk.

The figures offered little comfort. Some payments from the farms would arrive late, while others might not be made in full. Money intended for mine repairs and improvements to the garrisons was now competing with the cost of bringing grain into the territory. The silver mine still needed further work, and the future of the gold mine remained uncertain. Each expense had its purpose, but the house had fewer resources available to meet them all.

Lucian did not regret the help he had given his people. Living in the shadows of war had taught him how difficult it was to replace those who were lost. House Veymont had suffered the loss of experienced soldiers, and rebuilding its strength depended on training younger men to take their places.

The same was true throughout the territory. Farms needed hands, mines needed skilled workers, and many repairs depended on people who understood their craft. The recovery had begun because people were willing to learn, take on new responsibilities, and continue the work left behind by those who had not returned.

He also knew that some of the territory’s most valuable people might not yet have been discovered. A promising martial artist or soldier, a gifted craftsman, or someone with the judgement to lead others might grow up in an ordinary village without anyone recognising their potential until they were given a chance.

If families were driven from their homes and children lost opportunities to learn and develop, Veymont might lose people whose abilities had yet to emerge. The damage would reach beyond the fields left uncultivated and the work that went unfinished.

Yet Lucian did not need to think about what the territory might lose before he could care about those already suffering. Many had endured the hardships of war and worked for years to rebuild their lives. They deserved the chance to hold on to what they had struggled to regain.

He still had a family to provide for and soldiers who needed regular meals. He could not give away everything House Veymont possessed, nor could he answer every request for assistance. But those responsibilities did not excuse him from helping where he could. He would have to judge carefully how best to use the resources available, knowing that some needs would remain unmet.

Even so, he was determined not to let the drought destroy more lives and livelihoods than it already had.

Meanwhile, far beneath Castle Veymont, where the light of the world had never reached, Ethan remained suspended in the depths of the blood pool.

Thirty-one years had passed since he had fallen into this slumber.

Nothing had changed on the surface. The blood surrounding him remained dark and still, and his body lay motionless beneath it, showing no sign of awakening. Yet beneath that stillness, a struggle that had begun decades ago continued without pause.

Deep within him, the Blood Seed churned.

The organ had never ceased its work, drawing upon the surrounding blood and refining it into Living Blood. That blood flowed through Ethan’s body, repairing what the strange energy destroyed, reinforcing what it damaged, and allowing his flesh to endure another cycle of ruin and renewal.

It was a struggle without a clear end.

The foreign energy continued to ravage his body, penetrating deeper into his flesh and interfering with its natural processes. Whenever it tore through what had been restored, the Living Blood responded by rebuilding it. What emerged was not quite the same as before. His body was gradually adapting, becoming stronger and more resilient with every cycle of destruction and rebirth.

Yet that progress had brought him no closer to overcoming the energy itself.

His body could endure more than it once had, but endurance was not victory. The strange force remained within him, continuing its relentless assault, and the Blood Seed had yet to find a way to bring it under control.

Only the vast supply of blood surrounding Ethan had allowed the struggle to continue for so long. Without it, the Blood Seed would eventually have exhausted its reserves, leaving his body unable to recover from the damage.

Even now, the Living Blood continued to flow, sustaining a life that had long since ceased to resemble ordinary existence.

And somewhere within this endless cycle, something else remained dormant.

The Immortal Ring.

Its presence could not be located within Ethan’s body, nor could it be traced to any identifiable part of his consciousness. It seemed to exist everywhere and nowhere, beyond the limits by which ordinary beings understood existence.

It was ancient beyond measure.

The passage of years meant nothing beside it. Civilizations could rise and vanish, worlds could form and crumble, and entire realms could pass into oblivion, yet the Immortal Ring’s existence seemed to belong to a span of time before such things had meaning. It possessed no discernible will, issued no commands, and offered no counsel. It simply existed, carrying out functions whose origins had been lost to time.

For thirty-one years, it had remained silent.

It had not intervened when the foreign energy first began destroying Ethan’s body. It had not stepped in when the Blood Seed struggled to sustain him, nor when his existence settled into its seemingly endless cycle of death and rebirth.

Through the years, the Immortal Ring had remained unchanged, its unfathomable presence buried in the same silence that surrounded Ethan.

Then, deep within that silence, a long-dormant sequence began to advance.

No light disturbed the blood pool. Ethan’s body remained motionless, the Blood Seed continuing its endless struggle against the foreign energy. Yet, beyond the reach of any ordinary perception, the conditions within his body were being gathered, examined, and processed.

A faint succession of readings emerged from the ancient sequence.

[Foreign Energy Detected]