In the distance, along a separate pathway between the tents, Aurelian noticed a two-meter-tall cart carrying a long-muzzled cannon, its size nearly that of a man and a half.
Is that one of the new cannons from the forge cities? he wondered. He didn't linger, continuing his walk in silence.
As he passed, many people went about their tasks, oblivious to him. For someone labeled a fugitive in the regiment, he moved freely, his presence unnoticed. How could they know? he thought. Most wouldn't hear, see, or even sense him.
His mind invisibility ensured that.
I suppose following an incomplete branch for the evolution was the right choice, after all, he thought. At least I don't have to deal with other mind worms.
Before long, he reached his destination.
The entrance to the keep loomed ahead—a massive black gate manned by three guards. Each held an obsidian-tipped spear, their weapons poised upright.
Two of the guards were in conversation, while the youngest stood silently, his gaze fixed on a distant corner. Aurelian's attention lingered on the quiet one.
But then a sharp voice broke through his thoughts.
"Hold it! Who are you?"
One of the guards stepped forward, his tone stern and authoritative. Aurelian froze, his mind racing. My mind invisibility is still active. How can he see me? His eyes flicked over the guard's features. Is he a Sanguine? No, he doesn't seem to recognize me, which means the ability is running some interference.
"Who are you?" the guard repeated, his suspicion deepening.
The second guard frowned, looking at his comrade. "Who are you talking to?"
If this continues, it'll attract attention. I can't afford that.
Aurelian made a decision. He turned his focus back to the young guard and closed his eyes.
In his mind, the world plunged into cold, silent darkness. Countless illusory tendrils stretched out before him, writhing faintly like creatures seeking freedom.
He reached out, grasping one that pulsed with a certain edge. The tendril squirmed in protest, resisting his control, but he held on firmly until it stilled.
With the connection established, Aurelian opened his eyes.
The young guard seemed to hesitate, confusion flickering across his face. Then, without warning, he raised his spear and attacked the guard who had spoken to Aurelian.
The startled guard dodged the strike with reflexive precision, countering with his own spear. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded.
The young guard's eyes widened, filled with rage. "For Donnersburg!" he screamed, pulling his spear back for another strike.
The second guard intervened, slamming his spear between the two combatants. "What's gotten into you?" he shouted.
But the boy didn't answer. Instead, he dropped his spear and clenched his fists, ready to brawl.
Chaos erupted as the three guards grappled with one another, one side fighting for survival while the other lashed out in fury.
Meanwhile, Aurelian strolled past the commotion and into the keep.
Inside, he found himself in a large stone hall supported by towering pillars, each as thick as two men.
At the center of the room was a raised stone stage where red-haired vixens danced in half-exposed clothing. Their movements were fluid and enticing, drawing cheers, applause, and drunken toasts from the patrons seated at wooden tables.
Some men collapsed to the ground, their faces flushed red from the revelry. Liquor Gu, small translucent worms, crawled over their fallen bodies, drawn to the scent of spilled alcohol. The creatures fed greedily before the unconscious men were dragged away by attendants.
Aurelian ignored the drums and the untouched drink before him. He neither cheered nor joined the others in their indulgence. Even if he wasn't a believer in the Pure White, he had no desire to partake today. Not on the day he intended to stain his white coat red.
His gaze swept the hall. Round stone tables were scattered throughout, paired with sturdy wooden chairs.
The patrons were engrossed in their merriment, oblivious to their surroundings. Along the walls, armor hung in display—a strange mixture of rusted black pieces and those with a whitish sheen.
Displaying armor like this in the legion's home? Have they lost their minds? All this over a small victory in the plains? Aurelian frowned. This must be Putray's idea. Only someone like him would invite vixens to dance in a place of war.
His attention shifted to the window to his right. The four-cornered opening revealed the churning crimson sky above.
The red dustfall was lighter today, a rare reprieve that hinted at the storm season approaching. Soon, the skies would be shrouded in heavy storm clouds.
Movement caught his eye. A liquor worm, no larger than a finger, slithered up the window frame and into the hall. Its translucent body glistened as it crept toward the noise and chaos of the revelry.
So, the liquor Gu still endures, Aurelian thought. Perhaps, like humans who cling to their liquor, the Gu persist because their nature is just as tenacious.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the scene, silently preparing for what was to come.
Aurelian closed his eyes briefly, stretching out his palm. May the Pure be with me, he whispered, bringing his hand to his chest, pressing it firmly as if to feel warmth radiate from his heart.
For a moment, he remained still, focusing on his breath. When he finally removed his hand, he exhaled deeply, steadying himself.
Would the Pure White even approve of me killing an Archon of the Empire? he wondered. Probably not. But perhaps forgiveness could be earned through penance. Many have done worse in the Holy Book and still found redemption. I'll be no different.
Rising to his feet, he strode through the chaotic chamber. The time for contemplation had passed; Putray should be placid enough now to shiver at the storm that was coming.
The hall was a maze of drunkards slumped over tables or sprawled across the floor, forcing Aurelian to weave through the revelers. Eternal lamps mounted on the walls burned brightly, their orange light creating a stifling heat in the already crowded space. They remained lit even during the day, their unrelenting glow adding to the oppressive atmosphere.
At the far side of the room, Aurelian noticed a group of men seated against the wall, separated by rows of tables.
Their imposing figures and locked hair marked them as Maw—a people newly conquered by the Empire.
Tall, well-built, and clad in dark leather coats buttoned across their broad chests, the Maw men exuded an air of raw strength, even in their drunken state. They looked like they could crush a bull's skull with their bare hands.
They still don't fit into the Empire, Aurelian thought. And why would they? It hasn't been long since their clan was brought to heel.
Leaving the feasting chamber behind, Aurelian stepped into a quieter hallway. The walls were lined with statues, each depicting an Archon who had ruled before Putray. Perhaps they were better than him, Aurelian thought. But he had no way of knowing.
The hallway curved gently to the right, following the contours of the domed fortress. Some claimed the design was meant to mimic the roundness of the sun. They tried, Aurelian thought dismissively. He turned down the corridor leading to the Archon's chambers.
The closer he got, the more the decor changed. Torches encased in glass cubes burned steadily, their light casting a faint, sterile glow. The air grew heavier with the sense of guarded importance.
The Black Sand Fortress was an imposing structure, perched on a hill overlooking the Nightmare Plains. The fortress, surrounded by tall, stone walls, was the Empire's nearest outpost to Donnersburg, a city steeped in rebellion and the cause of the ongoing War of Grace.
The war had begun after Donnersburg refused to relinquish its spring of grace to the Empire—a resource so rare it had ignited what many now called the Invasion for Grace.
"You there!" a sharp voice called out in the Maw tongue.
Ahead, two guardsmen stood at an intersection. Both carried spears, their stances firm as they watched Aurelian approach.
They can see me? Aurelian tensed. His mind invisibility was still active, yet these guards seemed unaffected. They must be Sanguines, probably equipped with mind protection components.
The Black Sand Legion lacked a core evolutionary branch, allowing its members to pursue their own evolutionary paths. While this allowed for diverse capabilities, it also meant that the strength and reliability of their enhancements varied greatly.
The guard closest to him gestured with his spear. "Who are you?" he demanded. "A Pure White believer? Leave now; you're not allowed here."
Aurelian remained still, his eyes narrowing.
"Won't you obey?" the guard snapped. "What are you waiting for?"
Aurelian inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as the world faded into darkness. He reached into the void, his mind brushing against countless writhing tendrils of thought. He grasped one firmly, feeling it twist and resist before succumbing to his control.
When he opened his eyes, his focus was locked on the guard who had spoken.
The man suddenly turned, his eyes wide with rage. Without hesitation, he raised his spear and thrust it toward his comrade.
The second guard reacted instinctively, blocking the strike with his own weapon. "What's wrong with you?" he shouted.
"For Donnersburg!" the enraged guard roared, pulling back his spear for another attack.
The second guard parried again, his expression a mixture of confusion and anger. "Have you lost your mind?"
The two guards clashed, their spears clanging against each other as the fight escalated. Aurelian watched in silence, knowing the power he had just used was now on cooldown. Even their mind guards couldn't withstand the full intrusion of a mind worm.
Aurelian placed a hand over his chest. A soft blue-white light radiated from beneath his clothing, a glowing ring emanating from his shard armor. Raising his hand, he summoned a blade of mist, its black, mirror-like surface dripping faint droplets of water.
His shard armor had once belonged to a Mist-Blooded Knight. Although he wasn't wearing the full set, its bond allowed him to summon the remaining pieces at will. The armor could only be broken if he willingly severed the bond—or if he died in battle. Neither was an option.
As the guards continued their frenzied fight, Aurelian dissolved into a swirling mist. He whooshed past them, his form moving with inhuman speed.
Rounding a corner, he materialized briefly, only to be spotted by another guard.
"Intruder in the Black Sand Fortress!" the man shouted, raising his spear.
Aurelian sighed as he moved. Was my approach too bold? His mission wasn't just about killing the Archon; he wanted to live afterward. To grow stronger. To ascend to the ultimate. But if too many people recognized his face, he'd be branded a traitor to the Empire and lose any chance of achieving his goal.
Even now, while cloaked in mind invisibility, Aurelian knew the human mind could sometimes remember things it shouldn't in moments of chaos.
His misty form flickered as he dashed forward, prepared to face whatever lay ahead.