Lancer stepped onto the bustling streets of the capital, scanning for any sign of the Crimson Lantern. After what felt like hours of searching and asking around discreetly, he finally found it tucked away in the outer ring of the city. The establishment was dimly lit, its faded sign barely readable, and the patrons who wandered in and out were as shady as the rumors suggested.
Taking a deep breath, he activated a small bit of Atomic Reconstruction to alter his appearance—just enough to avoid recognition. His new look included shorter, lighter hair and a subtle shift in facial features. Satisfied with his disguise, he stepped inside.
The tavern was loud with murmurs and clinking glasses. Almost immediately, Lancer felt several sets of eyes on him, their gazes assessing and unfriendly. He ignored them, sitting at an empty table near the bar.
As the tension in the air grew, Lancer decided to make a statement. He released a fraction of his magic, letting it ripple through the room. The pressure it exuded was enough to make most of the patrons stiffen in their seats, a clear warning that he wasn't an easy target. Slowly, the stares melted away, and the room returned to its usual seedy atmosphere.
Satisfied, Lancer signaled the bartender. A gruff man with a scar across his forehead sauntered over. "What'll it be?"
"Something light," Lancer replied, sliding a few coins onto the counter. As the bartender returned with a drink, Lancer leaned in slightly. "I'm looking for a man. Scar on his cheek. Heard he comes here sometimes."
The bartender hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. Lancer slipped a few more coins onto the counter, and the man's lips loosened. "You're talking about Arthur. Big name around here. Member of Trojan—they deal in weapons, smuggling, and who knows what else."
"Strong?" Lancer asked, sipping the drink and subtly detoxifying it as he went.
"Level 3 Green Mage," the bartender muttered. "Not someone you want to mess with lightly. He's got a reputation, and people don't ask too many questions about his business. No one knows where he goes when he's not here."
Lancer nodded. "Thanks."
The bartender pocketed the coins and moved on, leaving Lancer to sit and mull over the information. He stayed just long enough to finish his drink, then slipped out into the night.
Back at the Eldrion residence, Lancer relayed what he had learned to Carina and the girls.
"So, you'll be in the capital for a while?" Carina asked, concern in her voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Lancer replied. "I didn't find him tonight, but I'll need a few more days to see if I can track him down."
Carina's expression softened, and she smiled warmly. "Then you'll stay here. It's dangerous out there, and we have plenty of room."
Yumiella, who had been quietly sipping tea, nearly choked. "What?! Mother, you can't just invite him to stay!"
Lancer held up his hands. "No, really, it's fine. I can go back to the village in a flash whenever I want. I wouldn't want to impose—"
"Nonsense!" Carina insisted, her sweet tone leaving no room for argument. "You're absolutely welcome here. It's no trouble at all."
Despite his protests, Carina's imploring smile finally wore him down. "Alright," he sighed. "Thank you, Lady Carina."
Yumiella and Luna showed him to his room, though Yumiella huffed dramatically the whole way. As they walked back, Lancer glanced at Luna. "What's her deal?"
Luna giggled softly. "She's just happy to see you. She's not great at expressing herself, though."
"Happy? That's her happy?" Lancer asked incredulously.
Luna nodded, smiling. "She's always like that."
Later that night, during dinner, Cygnus entered the dining hall. His presence immediately commanded respect, and Lancer stood to greet him.
"So, this is the young man who forged those incredible swords?" Cygnus asked, his eyes lighting up as he shook Lancer's hand. "I've heard quite a bit about you."
Lancer scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Thank you, sir. I'm still working to improve my craft."
Cygnus laughed heartily. "Humble too, I see! Those swords are works of art. I can only imagine how much better your creations will become."
Lancer nodded awkwardly, trying to deflect the praise. "I just enjoy what I do, really."
As the conversation shifted to Lancer's reason for being in the capital, his tone grew serious. He explained that he was looking for someone.
To lighten the mood, he brought out more ice cream for dessert, much to everyone's delight. Cygnus savored every bite, eventually leaning back in his chair. "I've heard about this ice cream of yours. I'd love to purchase more for the household."
"I'll bring more next time I visit," Lancer promised.
Later, as he lay in bed, his thoughts wandered back to the village. The influx of visitors and growing reputation worried him. "It's probably fine," he murmured to himself, reassuringly. With Typhon, Remus, and the other chimerae watching over it, he was confident they could handle any trouble. And if anything did go wrong, Soul Link would alert him immediately.
Over the next few days, Lancer returned to the Crimson Lantern regularly, but Arthur was nowhere to be found. The bartender shrugged each time he asked, saying he hadn't seen the man yet. Lancer was beginning to grow restless.
Then, one evening, as he sat quietly drinking, Arthur walked in.
Lancer's body tensed, but he forced himself to remain calm, his face neutral. Arthur sat down a few stools away from him and ordered a drink. His scarred face and commanding presence matched the bartender's description perfectly.
Lancer resisted the urge to turn and look at him directly. If he catches on to me, it's all over, he thought. Instead, he sipped his drink casually, all the while assessing Arthur through Architect's Dominion.
The results were shocking. Arthur's MP count was astronomical—around 4 million, double Lancer's own. Even at level 3, this was far beyond what a typical Green Mage should have. What's more, his energy felt... off. It was more potent and alien than Lancer remembered from their first encounter. It wasn't just human anymore—it had evolved into something else.
Finishing his drink, Lancer decided to act. He pretended to be drunk, staggering slightly as he stood up and moved to leave. On his way out, he "accidentally" bumped into Arthur.
"Sorry about that," he mumbled, slurring his words just enough to sell the act.
Arthur glanced at him, unimpressed, before turning back to his drink.
Outside, Lancer quickly rounded a corner and activated Architect's Dominion. A glowing dot appeared on his mental map, marking Arthur's exact location in the bar. A small smile played on Lancer's lips. With this, he could track Arthur no matter where he went.
About ten minutes later, Arthur left the tavern. Lancer stayed hidden, watching as the man casually walked down the street and turned a corner. Then, suddenly, his dot blinked off the map.
"What?" Lancer muttered, momentarily panicked.
Just as quickly, the dot reappeared, but now it was on the far western edge of the country, miles away from the capital.
"He can teleport," Lancer murmured to himself, eyes narrowing.
Arthur's dot remained stationary on the map. Whatever he was doing there, he seemed to be staying put for now.
Lancer clenched his fists. "If that's where he's gone, then I'll follow him."