The streets of Leode were cloaked in the hushed whispers of the night as I made my way back to Caius's house. Darius's words echoed in my mind, resonating with the profound truths he had shared within the halls of the church.
My mind, ever analytical, dissected the information Darius had unveiled. The pathways—Time, Space, and Fate—were threads woven into the very fabric of our existence. I had long been familiar with Time and Space, intricately entwined in my journey as an arcanist. But Fate, the revelation of a third path, was an enigma. Could arcanists truly manipulate fate itself?
Knowing that there are three different choices I could've taken when becoming a tier 8 arcanist—a mental, a physical and a spiritual choice—it tells me that there are likely nine different choices you could pick when becoming an arcanist. Time, Space and Fate, three different choices for each path.
With the Church of the Keeper of Time here in Leode, the Time path was an inevitable choice. But in Goldeen, with its allegiance supposably to the True God of Space, it was separate. A connection formed in my thoughts, linking back to the others in the Den—Jo, Erick, and even Alexei. All hailing from Goldeen, they might inherently be aligned with the Space pathway, a revelation that added another layer to our diverse group.
But with our more local team, it was different. Darius had previously mentioned that Jean was the only other 'official' Arcanist in The Den. If the rest of The Huntsmen were unofficial Arcanists, gaining their abilities from a source other than the church, they might belong to other distinct pathways. Unofficially gaining their abilities as an arcanist from the space or fate path.
Yes, they all could be still part of the Time path, but it was probably unlikely. Though Jean, by deduction, was likely aligned with the Time path as an official arcanist, but everyone else remained a mystery.
Even if I could figure this out, the rest such as Fleur and Lucas would have already known this. This makes sense in the fact that hiding your abilities as an arcanist is vital since people are likely to already know which pathway you are, as long as they know if you're official or not.
Lost in my contemplation, I arrived at the outskirts of Central Leode, where Caius's residence stood. It wasn't the most luxurious area, nor the modest abode of the working class. Instead, it occupied a niche between, well-kept and livable, nestled in the quieter outskirts of the city, closer to the Homeless District than the bustling Entertainment District.
As I approached Caius's house, a lingering question resurfaced in my mind. How could Caius, at his age, afford a place that, while not extravagant, still boasted a standard of living beyond what one might expect? It was a mystery I had never probed, perhaps out of a subtle respect for his privacy.
Lost in my thoughts about the diverse paths of arcanists, I almost missed the figure that emerged from the shadows up ahead of me.
A cloaked silhouette, barely discernible in the darkness, caught my attention. The individual wore a cloak that concealed most features, but a glint of goggles in the moonlight atop their forehead betrayed a careful attempt at anonymity.
As we both drew closer, the distinct features became clearer—burnt orange hair and a sharp face that instantly identified the figure.
Lorenzo.
Slowly and casually, my hand fumbled into my innermost jacket pocket to reach for the hollow marble that I had bought from the beggar earlier.
The tension thickened in the air as the gap between us shortened. My mind raced, trying to devise a plan to handle this unexpected encounter. Yet, before I could initiate any action, Lorenzo seemed to anticipate my presence.
"Lorenzo is it?" I muttered under my breath, intending for it to be a subtle probe, but my words were met with a swift retort.
"You're the one that's been trying to track me down, is that right?" Lorenzo's voice cut through the quiet night, his tone tinged with accusation.
Surprised by his quick realization, I momentarily stumbled over my thoughts. How did he know so soon? Had my investigations in the homeless district been that conspicuous? It hadn't even been half a day since I was looking into potential connections there.
"I know you've been looking for me over in the homeless district. It's a crime to give to the needy now, is it?" Lorenzo's words dripped with sarcasm, mocking my intentions.
The accusation hung heavy in the air, and I kept my composure. "Times are tough for everyone. I get it," I replied, keeping my tone neutral, my gaze steady. "But that doesn't justify your activities."
Lorenzo's chuckle cut through the silence like a knife. "You don't know the half of it, do you?" His words were laced with a mix of defiance and resignation. "People like you, prying into things you shouldn't, don't understand what it's like for us. On the streets."
I felt the weight of his words, the struggle for survival in a city that could be merciless to those without means. After seeing the state the homeless district was in, I could understand. Yet, I couldn't let sympathy cloud my duty. Slowly, deliberately, I withdrew the hollow marble from my pocket, its smooth surface cool against my fingertips.
"I'm just doing my job," I stated calmly, keeping my intentions veiled. I dropped the marble onto the cobbled ground, a subtle move meant to shift the dynamics of our encounter.
The marble dissipated into nothingness, leaving a sudden chill that prickled the air, a coolness that seemed to seep into the surroundings without actually lowering the temperature.
The Bounded Field surrounding us both, clouding the area within to the outside and not letting others see or hear our actions.
Lorenzo, clearly sensing the shift took a slow step back seemingly out of instinct as I reached into my jacket to my holstered revolver. Just in case he tried anything, I could use it as leverage. Thankfully I had kept it from earlier in the day after practicing at the range.
I had barely gripped the revolver when Lorenzo made his move. With a swift motion, he tore off his cloak, the fabric billowing and obscuring my vision.
My fingers tightened around the revolver as I tried to regain focus, but before I could react, the cloak fell to the ground, revealing Lorenzo charging toward me.
Instinct took over, and I drew the revolver, aiming it squarely at Lorenzo, my arms steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.
Lorenzo, however, didn't flinch. He saw through my bluff and surged forward, his powerful left hook striking my arm with surprising force, knocking the revolver from my grasp.
Reacting swiftly, I dropped into a crouch, swinging my leg in an attempt to sweep his legs from under him. But Lorenzo was quicker, leaping backward to maintain his distance.
I lunged for his cloak, my fingers grazing the fabric as I yanked it towards me. With a quick blink of my eyes, the familiar fractured webs appeared and I could see the possible near future of our conflict.
From the perspective of the cloak on the ground, Lorenzo could be seen swiping a small knife towards my right side. And in another quick blink of my eyes, the webbed scene disappeared from my vision as if it never existed.
I took my gaze upward at Lorenzo once again. Using my ability only took a brief second at most so he hadn't moved an inch. He was panting as he stood in a ready stance.
"Thought you could take me on, did you?" he taunted, his voice laced with mockery.
"Not as much as I thought you'd flee at the first sign of danger," I retorted, keeping my stance defensive.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Lorenzo brandished the knife, his movements poised for an attack. Lorenzo's slightly shaky voice chuckled, "Going up against the Rose? Do you really think it's worth it?"
My iris contracted to hear him mention The Rose. That was what Fritz had mentioned. One of the main clues to Fritz and whoever was backing him such as an organistion or a powerful arcanist.
While I was stunned at his comment, Lorenzo leapt towards me in one swift action and went to swipe his knife towards my right side.
But I had fortunately seen and anticipated this action and accurately dodged to the right, around the outside. I grabbed his knived wrist and squarely jabbed his elbow, pushing his arm inward and causing his arm to fracture.
Lorenzo let out a cry in agony and fell to his knees, letting go of his knife. But with the bounded field up, nobody outside our area could hear or see what was going on.
I kicked his knife away and picked up my revolver from the cobbled ground. "The Rose. Who is it?"
Through wincing Lorenzo replied, "Who?"
Lorenzo spun around ready to attack back once again, but I had already held my revolver down towards him and Lorenzo quickly had his head pressed against the barrel of my weapon.
"The Rose. Who are they?" I said again.
"Well, shit…" Lorenzo said back as he glanced over towards his knife over a few meters away. Too far to reach. "The Black Rose. Heh. I really don't know to be completely honest."
I pressed my revolver harder into his forehead.
"Fine fine, Pandora was the one that got me involved in all this. An unstable arcanist she was. You know Pandora don't you? She's part of The Black Rose. She was the one that hired me to help with supplying materials to her and the rest from the western continent."
This made sense. From my encounter with Pandora, she was gathering materials to create false artifacts and having a supplier would make that much easier. And The Black Rose. This was confirmation that it wasn't just a person, but an organisation.
Pandora being backed by such an organisation would make gathering illegal arcanist materials far easier. But now this added up with Fritz too. His comment about The Rose made him seem like he was far higher up the food chain in this mysterious organisation. What was The Black Rose up to?
"Is that what you wanted to know?" Lorenzo said.
With a heavy swipe, I smacked Lorenzo across the face with the butt of my revolver and knocked him to the cobbled streets. He fell instantly unconscious and unmoving. I was rather surprised with my strength at this point. Was that the passive power of an arcanist?
My mind raced, considering my options now. I couldn't simply leave him here, nor could I bring him to the Den. Darius might have left for the night, and even if he hadn't, I had no suitable place to stash Lorenzo. This was my bounty and I had to deal with Lorenzo now.
I pondered bringing him to Deka, but at this late hour, I had no clue where Deka might be either. Nor where he stayed. I couldn't just drop him off at his front door and leave.
Then it struck me—I could bring Lorenzo to the Church of the Keeper of Time. The arcanist bishop there might offer guidance or at least a solution to this predicament. Moreover, informing the bishop about Lorenzo's connection to Pandora and the bounty placed on his head by Deka would help. They'd likely be able to lock him up to morning.
Resolute in my decision, I stooped down, swiftly lifting Lorenzo onto my shoulders. His unconscious body felt heavier than expected, but I steadied myself and began the journey toward the church.
It was rather late at night so thankfully there would seldom be people around to see me with a body over my shoulders.
As I navigated the streets, my thoughts drifted to past encounters. Other battles I had been in thus far.
Going up against Fritz was more of a tense standoff than a fight. It was a mental chess match rather than a physical altercation. Both sides were cautious, neither willing to unveil their full capabilities, though it made perfect sense.
Neither side knew of the other's abilities or whether they had artifacts to back up their powers. As an arcanist, you had to be perpetually vigilant, knowing that your opponent might wield not just one power but an array of abilities, making it a matter of strategy and deception.
You could never just rely on your tired abilities. Having access to artifacts was important for besting your opponent, even if it could have negative effects.
Though I had beaten Lorenzo. I wonder what tier arcanist he was, or if he was even an arcanist at all. I had beaten him pretty easily so maybe he was just a regular human with knowledge of arcanists.
With these reflections swirling in my mind, I finally arrived at the Church of the Keeper of Time. Back where I had joined Darius for prayer earlier in the evening. The imposing facade stood silent and dignified in the moonlight, an ancient guardian in the midst of the city's slumber.