“Nolan?”
Ah, that’s embarrassing. I didn’t say anything and just stared at—
A dreadful sensation set every hair on his body standing on end as if he’d just taken a dip in a frigid lake. He instinctively reached out and grabbed Nyla’s wrist, tugged her into his arms and then turned his body just in time for a black shadow to stab through the space where she’d been standing. The object punched straight through the walls of their carriage with a shower of splinters.
Heart thumping, he cast his spiritual sense out in all directions as the people around them began to scatter in panic. There was no need for him to waste his energy, for off in the distance he caught sight of a familiar visage which quickly turned around and fled into the distance.
Turning his head, Nolan saw that a black arrow had pierced into the gut of a massive horse that was pulling a cart beside him and his friends, the dark shaft embedded so deep into the animal’s flesh that only half of a raven-like feather was jutting out from the wound.
It had been a near-instant kill.
Chapter Five: In Pursuit
“Should we report back to Brecht?”
Serp smirked at the red-haired disciple of the outer court, a gangly youth supposedly from the same domain as he. “And tell him what, that the people we’re looking for might have stopped by this remote cave? No, we’ll head upstream. The only land north of this forest belongs to the kingdom of Verdure. Unless they’re still hiding among the trees, I can’t see any other place these people might have gone.”
“And what if the ones who camped out here turn out to be random travellers?” said an overweight young man.
“Then Brecht gets more time to cultivate.”
Serp’s fellow disciples were cursing their luck at having to leave Netherwolf City to accompany him in his attempt to locate the person who killed Brecht’s useless brother. Of all the disciples that embarked upon this quest for revenge, the entire task had fallen onto them, a handful of strangers picked out from a mob of murderers. Zaern had barely been considered average among the outer court disciples and yet had thought so highly of himself merely because his grandfather was a high ranking elder within the sect. Serp hadn’t forgotten how many times the rat had thrown his grandfather’s name around to force him to do some task or other for him.
The reason that so many disciples had followed Brecht on a personal quest outside of the sect’s territory was that it was extremely difficult to find an excuse to leave their lands. Even elders would have to get permission from the sect master whenever they had business outside of the sect, for they held hostile relations with every kingdom in the region.
“We will do our job,” he told his men. “But we will also use this time to cultivate. How can we just sit back and be the only ones to waste this chance?”
The others nodded eagerly, though they still appeared uncertain.
They were only allotted five adults per month to refine, though the age and subsequently the effects of their resources continued to lower in recent years. Who wouldn’t feel displeasure at having to sacrifice the chance to indulge in hundreds within a single week? Even as an inner court disciple that received twice the amount of resources that an outer court member was allotted, Serp was endlessly frustrated.
“The kingdom of Verdure…?” said the red-haired youth. “Is it really worth it? We’re looking for a single Body Nourishment practitioner. There should be millions of people at that level. Not to mention that Verdure isn’t safe.”
“He’s not wrong.” The chubby man scratched at his dimpled face, which was lined with a mess of brown stubble. “So much time has passed since the incident. His killer could have gone in any direction. Although this is an assignment from Lord Zaro, do we really have to gamble our lives to seek vengeance for the likes of Zaern? This is Verdure we’re talking about.”
“Keep your piss in your pants.”
Even though it was unlikely that they had caught on to the killer’s trail, what could be expected of them? They were only five in number and many days had passed since the incident had taken place. By this time their target might have crossed into one of the kingdom’s other provinces, even the smallest of which was larger than their sect’s overall territory. Though he was loath to admit it, they were probably following after a family that had fled the abandoned village where Zaern had met his end.
“Change into these.” Serp pulled out a pile of simple clothing that he’d acquired from a handful of wealthy Netherwolf tribesmen, post-refinement spoils. “We’ll go as far as Greenwall. If we don’t make any new discoveries by then, we’ll head back to the Southern Plains region.”
“How are we supposed to cultivate under those conditions?” the overweight man asked.
“It’ll depend on the situation. Random travellers on the road should be fine, but we can’t afford to openly cause trouble.” Serp’s eyes flashed with avarice. “No matter what, we’ll stop at a few villages on our way back through the Northern Plains. We can’t be falling behind the others now, can we?”
“But won’t they sense our auras if we cultivate?”
“That’s why we’ll wait a day after we consume whatever resources the road has to offer. Now hurry up and get those clothes on.”
They changed into the deplorable outfits that he’d laid out for them, each musty from the sweat of their previous owners.
“Mine doesn’t fit,” the chubby man said.
The red-haired youth sneered. “Whose fault is that?”
Once they had taken on the appearances of typical lower-class citizens, Serp led the others through the forest at a breakneck pace. The touch of course fabric on his usually sleeveless arms proved a constant irritation, one he had to endure while he was in a dangerous kingdom such as Verdure. His blood-red tattoos were a token symbol of an offensive martial skill that originated within their sect, the Scarlet Serpent Strike technique that was only available to the top disciples of the inner court.
They eventually reached the fringes of Flora. Serp remained deep in thought as he steered his men through a startlingly beautiful landscape lush with exuberant flowers and healthy woodlands, though the appeal was lost to him and his company.
Damn that spoon-fed bastard! I refuse to believe that Brecht actually intends to find his brother’s killer. There’s no point in sending me away to scout out the situation.
Brecht’s actual intent was evident. While Serp was off wasting time on some errant task, he’d take full advantage of the benefits that the robust Netherwolf tribesmen had to offer. Not only would Serp’s chances of reaching a breakthrough severely diminish, it was almost certain that Brecht would transcend his current realm and walk into the Integration stage. At that time, he would leave the vast majority of the inner court disciples behind, and would most likely become a core disciple. Once that happened Serp would have no choice but to adopt a much more subservient attitude toward the devious young man.
The only way for him to close such a gap was to locate and apprehend Zaern’s killer and then directly present him to Lord Zaro. This way, not only would all of the merit for the assignment fall to him, the lord elder would see that his precious grandson had ignored his commands and treated the urgent assignment as a cultivation retreat.
Surely the rewards he’d receive would pave his way to becoming a core disciple, or at the very least propel him to the peak of the inner court. If that were to happen, would Brecht still be able to order him around with such indifference? Let alone that pompous brat, even low ranking elders would have to watch their words around him. Serp would no longer be under his golden thumb. Perhaps he could even become a direct disciple to some elder should he shine amongst the dullards that lived within the elder’s domain.
After running on for a while, the group neared an isolated island of forestry that stretched on for a least a half a league, one of many that populated the flowery meadows.
They quickly passed through the woods, but Serp abruptly ordered the group
to a halt. On a still day like today, the air within the dense cluster of trees was hushed and humid. He could smell a faint, familiar odour floating about the place. Oh? He cast his spiritual sense into the surroundings and sure enough, not far off there was something lying on the forest floor.
Serp led his men through a thicket to where a large, silver bear was lying unconscious next to a deep hole in the ground. Judging by the claw marks, the bear had dug something up from the dirt. Scanning the area closely, he sensed that a dismembered corpse had been buried fairly deep within the soil, at least until the beast got to it.
“What happened to the bear?” the red-haired youth said.
Serp looked at him. “Why don’t you go and take a look, Russ?”
“Me?”
He fixed the boy with a calm stare.
Russ only hesitated for a moment before he hurried over to the hole in the ground. He picked up a nearby stick and began to prod the mutilated flesh. After a few seconds, he darted back at his fasted speed. “That guy was poisoned. His body’s covered in black veins, and his left arm’s missing.”
“Could it be that the bear ate it?” said Jas, the fat man. “Clawed him up pretty good, probably when it dug him out.”
Russ grinned. “To think about eating at a time like this, that’s just like you.”
“Watch it, brat!”
Jas was the weakest of the group, so even a youngster like Russ could tease him on a whim. A man like him would never leave the peripherals of the outer court, would probably be killed out of contempt for his weakness by some hotheaded youth.
“That seems to be the case, considering the beast’s appearance. Black veins, sounds quite familiar, doesn’t it?”
The others shared a look of mutual understanding.
Serp looked over at Russ. “Did you notice anything else?”
“He had a black mark on his chest that might’ve been a crest of some sort. Maybe he was a bandit? It could have been the symbol of his group.”
Serp stared at the bear. “Not many bandits travel alone. Comb through the rest of the forest, there might be more bodies in the area. Meet back here in half an hour.”
The search yielded no additional results.
Their target was travelling with several others, of that he was certain. The fact that they had only discovered a single corpse led Serp to the conclusion that the fight had carried over from another location. It was likely that they would soon discover the telltale signs of a battle having occurred in the surrounding fields. Were it the latter then that would mean that any other bandits involved in the clash had survived, in which case there would be witnesses.
Who would have thought it would be so easy?
“Are we heading straight to the city then?” Russ asked.
“No, we’ll stay away from the city for now.”
“What’s the plan, then?”
Serp was beginning to feel a rising sense of anticipation. “Everyone get a good look at the mark on that man’s chest.” He turned around and began making his way back to the open fields. Faced with such an enchanting view, a sinister smile crept onto his rugged face. “Greenwall isn’t too far off, so there should be a road around here somewhere. We’ll split up and take a few hours to look for it. Whether you find it or not, be back here by sundown. Keep an eye out for anyone with a similar marking.”
The others agreed and then shot off in different directions. He hung back for a few minutes, bounding into the field after carefully organizing his thoughts.
Among the disciples of the inner court, he had a respectably high level of cultivation, to the point that he was within the top five percentile of all disciples within the domain that he hailed from. Despite this he had always been walking within the peripherals of Brecht’s shadow, forever sidelined by the spoiled grandson of one of the highest ranking elders within the organization.
One day when he was sixteen-years-old, he had been cornered by Brecht and coerced into being his follower. Serp had just entered the inner court a few days before he received this ultimatum, a factionless random in no position to refuse such expectations. Since then, he’d had no choice but to pay close mind to the young man’s every instruction, to cater to even the most insignificant of his whims. The sect wasn’t a place where one could afford to lower their guard, a sentiment that held true no matter where one stood within the spectrum of ranks.
He spat into some flowers in passing. Such a subservient lifestyle didn’t suit him, so he intended to change that. At long last he had been presented with an opportunity to reverse the scales of his lowbrow fate and rid himself of the constant oppression that he’d come to despise so vehemently in recent years.
After locating the road he would seek out some local bandits and ask around for any information about the dead man that they’d found in the woods. He planned to have words with their leader and have him spread word through their ranks that they were looking for a young cultivator around Russ’s age who wielded a demonic beast tooth that was coated in potent poison. He would be at the fourth level of Body Nourishment, though capable of fighting people with cultivations that were higher than his own, and would most likely be travelling alongside two or three others.
Flitting through the fields as if he were a ghost, Serp couldn’t help but feel a rush of childish giddiness. It wouldn’t be long before Zaern’s killer would fall into his hands. As for the boy’s companions, he would refine them and then strip them of the treasures that they had stolen from Zaern and the other lowly disciple.
Chapter Six: Behind the Green Walls
Did he follow us all the way here? Nolan was walking with Jason and the others through a broad set of neatly cobbled streets. Was he alone? What happened earlier had left him more than just a bit perturbed. If he’d been just a second slower, then Nyla would’ve most definitely been run through by that arrow.
It had been about half an hour since they’d entered the city and bid their farewells to Remus and his sons. Kam had seemed really depressed all of a sudden, so Nolan went ahead and invited him to come watch the grand tournament in a week’s time. The meeting place they settled on was a statue that was fifteen-metres tall, of an armoured warrior with his sword raised in timeless defiance. The mass of gleaming copper would be hard to miss even for people who weren’t familiar with the area.
“Hey, that shop had a blue sign.” Jason pointed to a small antique building that was far overshadowed by the glamourous white brick of the neighbouring establishment. “Kam said to turn left fifty paces past the store with the blue sign, and then we’re supposed to make a right just before some water fountain.”
“There’s no left to make,” Nyla said. “Maybe he meant another shop?”
“Would it kill them to make an address system?” Jason muttered.
They stopped next to a fruit stall on the side of the road to hash out their plans.
“Why should we go to the inn he recommended?” Quin’s hulking body heaved a small sigh. “Any place should do.”
“Any place won’t give us the discount that Remus promised us.” Nyla pointed a finger at her brother. “This isn’t the plains region. Silver and gold are necessities here, so we need to conserve our money whenever possible.”
“I’m with Quin.” Jason looked exhausted as he glanced up and down the twilit street. “We’ve been bumming it out in the wild for weeks. I miss my shack.”
Nyla looked to Nolan for his input, those black eyes momentarily drawing him away from his worried thoughts. “I’m fine with anything. It’s not like we’re poor anymore, thanks to those guys in Redfox Village.”
He looked around to see if there were any inn-like places within eyeshot. This city’s actually pretty nice. He’d been expecting the outer reaches to be filled with shit-stained streets, disfigured beggars and an army of hovels, but it surpassed his expectations by a great degree. The majority of the people appeared clean, the streets were level and spacious, and there were many more sizeable buildings than h
e’d expected. They were in Greenwall’s southern district on the main street, which was still decently populated despite the lateness of the hour.
“How about that?” Jason pointed at a five story building up ahead. “It looks like it could be an inn.”
Most buildings shared the same blocky architecture, the highest reaching a height of ten storeys. The smooth stones were the same silvery shade as the clear cobblestones that overlaid the ground, filling their vision with the colour of slate. A network of street lights shrouded the city in a molten glow, simple lanterns mounted atop thick poles of iron.
“Let’s take a look.” Nolan led the group over to the building that Jason had pointed out, one of the bigger establishments on the street. A round sign with a sleeping fox hung above the door, but there was no title inlaid into the wood. The outside of the property was lined with numerous tables that sat beneath an orangey overhang fashioned from a long body of thick cloth, which reminded Nolan of a patio at a modern-day restaurant.
“Damn, this is pretty nice,” said Jason, who was the last to walk inside.
The entrance opened up into a well-lit lounge. A row of heavy desks lined the far end of the room, behind which stood several attentive men and women wearing white robes and light smiles.
Nyla stepped up to speak with one of the people behind the desks. “Excuse me, is this an inn?”
The young man’s eyes brightened up as Nyla stepped into his sights. “Indeed it is! The best in the entire southern district, as a matter of fact. Are you in need of accommodation, miss?”
“That depends on your prices.”
Nyla haggled with the man behind the counter until the rates lessened by a small percentage. It cost one card of silver for two decent rooms on the third floor. After ascending the stairs, the group split off into their rooms, Nyla and Quin in one, with Nolan and Jason in the other.
The Grey Ghost: Book Two of the Archaic Ring Series Page 5