Chapter 138: Heroic Spirit Baptism, Black Iron Command Bureau

Chapter 138: Chapter 138: Heroic Spirit Baptism, Black Iron Command Bureau

"This is a special Merit awarded by the Kingdom Military Department."

"I received the Silver Griffin Medal before I even joined the Third Legion."

Rein recalled the past.

Lance was surprised. He had thought Uncle Rein was just an ordinary retired veteran, but now it seemed his identity was anything but.

’It makes sense, though. Being given a detached house by the Veterans’ Guild is already pretty special. I just didn’t realize it.’

"A veteran who holds this medal can apply to the Kingdom Military Department for a special inheritance slot."

"Once the designated heir successfully steps into the Extraordinary Domain and officially becomes a Professional, they can take this legally binding contract directly to the Veterans’ Hospital in the Royal Capital or a provincial capital to receive the legendary Heroic Spirit Baptism."

This was a precious, official, High Tier benefit.

It originated from a massive ritual Array constructed by the Kingdom’s High Tier Priests and the Royal Mage Corps at the cost of countless resources.

A newly-minted Professional had only to walk into the center of that massive Array to trigger a faint resonance with the Heroic Spirits who had died in battle throughout the ages.

This Baptism wouldn’t allow someone to reach the heavens in a single step.

But it could, during the stage when a Professional’s "Source Material" had just taken form, permanently instill a faint bonus Effect related to the Kingdom’s Heroic Spirits.

It might slightly increase the healing speed of your muscles.

Or it might grant you some extra resistance against mental control.

The bonus might not be huge, but it was absolutely something that would stay with you for life.

Of course, the truly precious part wasn’t the bonus itself but the Heroic Spirit that resonated with you, and that involved other secrets of the Kingdom.

So Rein didn’t say any more on the matter.

He looked at Lance, his eyes filled with an elder’s concern for the younger generation.

"You’ve found a job traveling with merchant caravans now. You’re bound to run into all sorts of unpredictable dangers out there."

"Uncle Rein is a cripple. I can’t help you much with my strength anymore."

"If you ever get the chance to reach the threshold of a Professional, consider this Baptism slot a final push from these old bones of mine."

Hearing this, Lance’s heart ached even more.

’The unknown mastermind pulling the strings gave me a past full of lies just to control my destiny.’

’But by some twist of fate, in this very town, it also gave me Uncle Rein—a man who, for all his bad temper, would give me his very heart and soul.’

’If all of this truly is just one part of that fated script...’

’...then this selfless veteran is absolutely the most genuine and warmest bright spot outside of that false script.’

"Thank you, Uncle Rein."

This time, Lance didn’t refuse.

He lowered his head, picked up the quill, and with the utmost seriousness, signed his name at the very bottom of the parchment.

It was a sign that he had formally accepted this heavy burden of kindness and responsibility.

"One day, I’ll make you proud of me."

Lance looked up and made his most resolute promise.

"Good, good, good."

Rein was so happy he said "good" three times. He carefully put away the signed parchment scroll.

"I’ll go over to the Veterans’ Guild in a moment to get this contract registered."

The veteran placed a hand on Lance’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Be careful out there while you’re traveling with the merchants. When you have time, remember to come visit an old man like me."

"I’ll definitely visit often."

Lance looked at the old man before him, his face breaking into a brilliant smile.

...

Rein walked Lance all the way to the street intersection.

The sky outside had completely darkened.

Only a few dim streetlamps cast a faint glow on the cobblestone road.

The veteran stood his ground, quietly watching as the young man’s back slowly vanished into the night at the end of the street.

Only when the upright figure had vanished completely did the gentle, avuncular smile on Rein’s face begin to recede, bit by bit.

He turned, dragging his injured left leg, and limped back toward the house with his cane.

Just as he stepped into the first-floor living room, his sharp ears caught an unusual sound.

A stifled, pained whimper came from the direction of the second-floor attic.

’They really took the bait.’

Rein placed his large, rough hand on the wooden banister and made his way up to the second floor, one step at a time.

At the top of the stairs, he reached out and pushed open the ajar wooden door to the attic.

In the center of the room, a mysterious figure in a wide cloak was suspended in mid-air.

This was the High Tier Alchemy Trap Rein had set up in the attic beforehand.

Silver Thorn Binding

Four Secret Silver Threads, their surfaces flickering with dark blue runes, coiled tightly around the unlucky intruder’s limbs as if they were alive.

The surfaces of these seemingly delicate metal threads were coated in a special neurotoxin that blocked both the flow of Magic Power and the use of muscular strength.

If the prey tried to struggle, the Secret Silver Threads would only tighten, constricting until they cut to the bone.

The hood concealing the cloaked figure’s face had been thrown off during the violent struggle.

It revealed a young, exceptionally beautiful face, filled with a wild look.

Amidst the girl’s somewhat messy, silver-gray hair, a pair of fluffy gray Beast Ears stood erect.

This was an extremely rare Sub-human Species.

On a desk in the corner of the attic, a small brass brazier sat quietly.

A black, paste-like substance was slowly burning inside, emitting a very peculiar odor.

It was a very obscure alchemical Lure.

When burned, it perfectly mimicked the scent of a material coveted by the Cyan Moon Wolf Royal Family.

Only a royal with the purest bloodline could detect this special scent and would be instinctively drawn to it.

The Wolf Girl, suspended in mid-air, saw the limping man who had just pushed open the door.

A low, hostile growl immediately rumbled from her pale throat.

The girl’s nose twitched twice.

She smelled a new scent in the room—the scent of someone steeped in the training of Alchemy Secret Techniques.

"Are you a Hound from the Black Iron Command Bureau?"

The girl furiously bared her two sharp, yet oddly cute, canine teeth.

Even though the sharp Secret Silver Threads had already cut glaring, bloody lines into her body, she continued to twist and struggle in mid-air like a frantic little beast.

In today’s society, where humans and numerous Ordinary Sub-human Species seemed to coexist in peace...

...many deluded civilians naively believed the grand vision of racial integration had long been realized.

But only the few Sub-human Species with rare bloodlines knew the truth in their hearts.

In the shadows behind the Iris Kingdom’s glamorous facade, a terrifyingly violent organization called the Black Iron Command Bureau had always secretly existed.