Saxon didn't respond to the inquiries right there and then, but he instead brought Aza'zel to one of the few safehouses around town, a place under Saxon's protection for the last few years, called the butchery.
"Don't feel disturbed by whatever you see inside," Saxon paused for a moment before the steel gates to warn Aza'zel, to which the latter responded with, "I'm kind of lacking in the seeing department, you know."
Saxon felt a little awkward and coughed to dispel the awkwardness. He knocked heavily on the thick steel gates and called out, "Hey! Butch, open up!"
A moment of silence followed and then, the sliding gates groaned like beasts of steel, dust crumbled down as a small gap barely the width of an adult's shoulders pried open.
A pungent stench of blood exploded in Saxon's face.
The overwhelming portion of rot embraced Saxon, while the pitiful remnants grazed past Aza'zel, and yet his facial muscles spasmed visibly.
"Totemic blood rots pretty quickly," Saxon remarked, not at all bothered by the stench as he walked into the workshop. Rows of bodies hung by hooks upside down while blood pooled in viscous puddles beneath.
Saxon wanted to invite Aza'zel inside, only to notice how stiff the latter's body was. After giving it some thought, he realized what must be going through the latter's mind.
He explained, "Here at the extremes of the borders, much like the borders of the remaining six realms of the Esteemed Earls, the only creatures willing to scramble for survival are humans. Not even the animals with their limited intelligence, save for hateful rats, are willing to live here."
He paused for a moment and said, "However, people can hunt totemic warriors who survived the cleansing of the new world and exchange their bodies for contributions to the aristocracy. The Rakshas did it for years, and so did I… It's our only path to survival."
Aza'zel remained silent for a moment and asked, "That food wagon?"
Saxon smiled. "Correct, it was brought in exchange for a few warriors of totemic blood."
Aza'zel tried his best to remain calm as he asked, "This kind of trade isn't sustainable, is it? I mean, there will come a day when there are no warriors of totemic blood no more."
Saxon paused for a moment, contemplated his options for a moment, and asked in a low voice, "Haven't you heard of breeding farms?"
Aza'zel's head snapped up, and although he couldn't see Saxon's face, nor could the latter see the expression in the former's nonexistent eyes, the atmosphere suddenly turned heavy.
Saxon's healthy blue eye reflected the immature countenance of the youth, but his stance was firm.
A moment later, Aza'zel smiled and asked, "Is food the only thing you guys exchange these contribution points for?"
Aza'zel couldn't openly criticize a tradition that had been nurtured for a long ten years now, can he?
Should he condemn these people for stabbing the totemic warriors in the back? Could it be even considered as betrayal, to begin with?
Everyone seeks a path to survival in these times of hardships, it is only a question of how low one can get to survive, or how far one is willing to go.
"Of course not," Saxon replied, delighted. "They offer us some special tips and guidance to manipulate source energy externally, just like I just did! These are some good stuff afforded to the foot soldiers who can't condense their… Erm, I forgot what it's called, but that doesn't matter."
It was at this time that a fat man, sweat-drenched from the bald scalp to the round belly, walked In with a bloody knife in hand.
He laughed coarsely and said, "You always say that the Rakshas are lap dogs to the aristocracy, groveling for every bone they toss our way, yet after tasting the delicious bones, you become no different from them."
Saxon snapped. "Hey! Butch, you know I'm different! They came looking for me, not the other way around!"
Butch rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah… Whatever you say, Sax. Anyway, what's with the new kid?"
"Oh yeah," Saxon recalled the important matter, and he quickly dragged Aza'zel over and said, "This is Lil Aza, didn't you say you had trouble with congealing blood?"
Butch had a weird expression as he said, "Yeah… what of it?"
Aza'zel was shocked. "You don't expect me to drink their blood to keep your yard clean, do you?"
The idea infuriated Aza'zel, and his small body started trembling. Saxon hurriedly held the young boy's hands and spoke up, "Hey, hey, hey! Relax, Lil Aza, just calm down and listen… Food is a very, very rare resource around these streets, do you want to starve to death?"
Aza'zel creased his eyebrows and flung Saxon's hands away, exclaiming, "What has my life or death got anything to do with you?! I'm not drinking their blood just to clean your yard, that's messed up!"
Saxon grasped at his hair and said, exasperated, "Fine, fine! You don't have to drink anything… for now!"
Saxon then turned to shrug at Butch, and the latter smiled it off and said, "When will you be leaving for the hunt? I'm expecting some fresh stuff by the end of this week, the vultures are dropping by to take the goods around then."
Saxon turned to Aza'zel and explained, "The vultures are the non-commissioned mercenaries working on the military's payroll. They're our only connection with the forces of aristocracy inland, as even an Earl's influence doesn't stretch too close to the forbidden grounds.
"Well, the aristocracy calls them non-commissioned mercenaries, but we refer to them as the wasteland's vultures, just so you know…"
Butch cut in impatiently, "Yeah, right… So, are you going to keep this babysitter act for long or what, Miss Sax? We've got work to do for fucks sake, let the boy learn as we go, stop being so long-winded with the trivialities!"
Then, he turned to face Aza'zel and asked, "You killed a dude before? Well, it doesn't matter anyway… When the time comes and a motherfucker is out for your blood, it'll come naturally."
Saxon added, "You can't make it out of this town on your own, and word on the streets is that you're already one of mine. Taking in mind that Sunflower already knows about my talent for controlling source energy, the other Rakshas are about to strike, and they'll strike hard."
Aza'zel wanted to refuse at first, but thinking about it deeper, he asked, "Will you teach me how to manipulate source energy if I stay?"
Saxon blinked. "You see… It's not something just anyone can learn, you need special talent for it! How else do you think that out of over eight thousand people here, only twelve or so are Rakshas?"
Saxon then added, "Moreover, how am I supposed to teach you when you're blind? The military has a specific set of forms to practice in, these forms gradually form an energy field around your body that draws in source energy to temper the body and increase affinity.
"The key words here are practice forms and increasing affinity! Even if I draw the forms for you to study, you wouldn't be able to see them. As for increasing affinity, just as I said, it's an increase, not creating or awakening an affinity for source energy—if you don't have the affinity to begin with, you can't increase it! Now that's talent!"
Butch nodded to the side, commenting, "What Miss Sax said is right, affinity isn't something everyone can have just because they want to, it's already a miracle that some children who don't have supernatural parents have such little affinity. Just let it be, kid."