The gap between a Pathless mortal at the height of their natural potential and an Initiate Pathbearer who just started their journey isn’t that wide. For warriors, it just seems like they’re a little stronger, a little faster, their weapons a little bigger. Mages are even more embarrassing. Most of the other magi in my company didn’t have maxed out Pathless Physicality. They’re slow, they’re sloppy, they get hurt and sick easily, and their magic isn’t anything remarkable either.

At the first level of Pyromancy, your mana field is little better than a broken matchstick. As you get up past the tenth level, you can create a small but focused torch. Still not impressive—but at least you aren’t useless. That’s why, during your initial enlistment, you’re supposed to develop other skills as well. Skills that help the army you’re with—skills you got from the university.

That’s why I sometimes question the term “War Mage.” Frankly, if judged by what I did the most at the start of my career, my role would have been Combat Engineer from all the bridges I collapsed and the fortresses I raised from stone. And frankly, it aligned with my actual Path better. I was supposed to be an architect, after all. Except after your elder brother betrays the nation and turns, jobs and prestige flee easily as well.

But then things get different if you hit Adept. Most don’t. Even more find themselves bottlenecked there for life. But that’s where everything changes.

Sure, some of us mages are still barely Initiate-Tier in Physicality and have bones made of glass, but as our magical skills hit their first Skill Evolutions, souls change. What we’re capable of changes. I thought I was powerful after hitting 40 in Geomancy. I ripped open the earth and made it eat a troll. Then, I got to 51, and suddenly, Geomancy became Warden of Stone—and I found I skipped a Tier for that skill. I was now a Master.

Suddenly, I wasn’t marching with squads anymore—I was with the real monsters. Adepts and more. This is where I saw the true separation begin. Together, my new comrades and I moved entire towns and cities across the land. Lone Adepts were dispatched to slaughter nests filled with hundreds of monsters or close smaller Primal Gates. Masters were regarded as an artillery brigade unto themselves—mage or not. And the few Heroes I did see… well, they might as well have counted as an army in one.

I still remember seeing my wife for the first time—how small she seemed. How bright her smile was. And then, when the battle started, I watched her draw that rusted old saber she got from her grandfather—and when she cut, she split the clouds above with one blow, and parted a distant mountain with another…

–Memoirs of a Master-Tier War Mage

24 (I)

Surprise

“I can’t believe I agreed to this shit,” Adam muttered, marching toward the wide-mouthed exit with a miserable scowl on his face.

“Shut up, prisoner,” Shiv rumbled, chiding Adam while remaining in character. “Move your feeble legs and thin calves.”

“Don’t felling judge my calves—it’s—it’s genetic! They’re lean! It’s lean muscle!” Adam’s offense and outrage were pretty well acted. Until the Young Lord continued to mumble bitterly about his calves not growing even after focused exercise. That’s when Shiv realized Adam was actually offended.

The sheer amount of noise they were making drew out several cloaked figures into the exit ahead. Each of them wore a bird-styled helmet. Most were crows, but Shiv could see a few ravens among them as well. There were also those who looked like sparrows, shrikes, and… some other types of bird he didn’t know. Blackedge was a place that was absolutely festering with eagles. As such, lesser birds like pigeons were nonexistent. Even the rats that lived in Blackedge were either quick, sneaky, extremely large, or a combination of all three.

“I have him,” Shiv growled as deeply as he could, shoving the Young Lord slightly. They added a bit more dust and dabbed bits of blood onto Adam’s lip to make it seem like there was a struggle. For Shiv, he just wrapped a crow’s cloak over his exoskeleton and placed a larger crow’s helmet over his existing skull-helm. He expected them to notice some issues with him soon—but not before Valor and Adam distracted them a bit. “I captured one of the surfacers helping the order. They were in the tunnels—the others are still fighting. They will need support.”

Two of the ravens looked at each other, and Shiv had the feeling they didn’t buy any of this. Before he could reassemble the bone drill he had taken apart and hidden all across his body, Valor spoke. And this time, several of the enemies took a step back in surprise.

“Release me, slave of the Stolen Throne,” Valor spat. It was embarrassing to realize that an ancient man trapped in a dagger possessed more gravitas and performance artistry in him than Shiv and the Young Lord combined. Shiv guessed Valor had a lot of time to practice. “Release me, I say. Do this, and I will not visit death upon you and your blood when I am inevitably freed.”

“The Cage!”

“The Cage of Valor Thann!”

“He Who Stills Eternity!”

“The Blade of Sublime Darkness…”

“Lifesplitter. Deathbreaker!”

Titles left the lips of the masked assassins in hushed and awed tones. Several of them bowed to the stone dagger outright as the ravens approached to take Valor from Shiv’s hands. “Stop!” the dagger commanded as he heard them draw near. “Do not approach me. Take me to your master. I wish to hear the purpose of your presence—from the true mastermind.”

The ravens froze. All of them looked at each other, but said nothing. Not even sign language. However, the gap of silence was long enough to fill a conversation, and Shiv realized something that filled his guts with ice. They have a mind mage with them. They have to. Shit.

Well, it was a good thing that Uva hardened Shiv and Adam’s minds. Beside masking their surface thoughts, it should protect them against a mind mage’s focused attacks.

“If they’re not a Master,” Uva finished. She studied Adam and especially Shiv with worry. “Another Adept I can confidently overcome. But a Master… a Master I might only be able to stall. And for how long, I cannot say. It depends on how developed of a Master they are.”

Right now, Shiv had a very bad feeling about what lay ahead.

As they entered the room, Shiv continued shaking Adam about while the Young Lord did his best to act outraged. He spat insults and saliva at the agents of New Albion, and several of them regarded him with something bordering on amusement. However, a few noticed something wrong with Shiv as well—and their eyes followed him across the room.

This scheme isn’t going to last long. When it all goes to hell, I’ll splatter whoever I can and go hard after the mind mage—wherever they are. Gotta get as close as I can before proceeding to the next step. I’m not taking any chances. His rough outline of a plan lasted until he was led into the cavern proper. There, he saw Yunni again—her hands shaking as she slotted what looked like a golem’s mana core into a large mechanism. The construct resembled a beating heart in a sense, and it took up a considerable amount of space, multiple square meters. It was bulbous but uneven, and inside countless oscillating spell shapes ground against each other. Shiv also noticed all the wires fusing it to the surrounding webbing. It was connected to the spatial tunnel somehow, and he had a feeling that if it went off, something terrible might happen to all the teleportation anchors.

What worsened Shiv’s nervousness were all the different tunnels leading into this cavern. The space here was tall and wide, and there were many exits. Shiv wondered if they led to other chambers—or elsewhere. On the level above, dozens more agents looked down over a makeshift railing, bows and exotic barrel-looking weapons in hand. Valor was right. If they had rushed in, this would have been a mess. Especially with so many enemies holding the high ground at multiple angles.

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Then, Shiv saw something that made his heart pump faster. One of the Trapdoor Weaveresses was still alive, kneeling next to a very tall, white-cloaked figure. The stranger in white was like an aberrant spot in the near darkness. The way they held themselves—they way they barely moved at all—made Shiv feel a growing sense of wrongness.

The thing with most skills, aside from those of the magical variety, was that they were hard to detect. Not without specific soul-accessing machinery. You didn’t know if the older looking man you insulted was some kind of Adept brawler who could put a hole in a steel wall until he actually did it. This is why it was illegal to not declare your Pathbearer Tier when someone requested it in the Republics. Because a whole slew of silly deaths ripped through the noble families, brought on by the arrogance of unassuming Masters and offended Adepts.

Suddenly, Shiv felt a presence prod at his mind. Uva’s spell held, but he felt a distinct crack somewhere.

The stranger in white was looking at Shiv and the Young Lord. Shiv hadn’t even detected a hint of motion. Even Adam flinched back in surprise. He didn’t see the bastard move either.

The figure in white wore a mask different from all the others—one resembling an owl’s face. Rather than being made of metal, it was a solid chunk of focus crystal with two holes for the stranger’s deep, green eyes. “Ah,” the owl spoke. She

sounded mature and measured. But also aloof. “And what is this? Do I spy Young Lord Adam Arrow here? How… unexpected.”

“You know me?” Adam sneered. “Then you know who I am. You know—”

“I know that Blackedge is currently being besieged by Vicar Sullain and his Avenging Faithful. I know that your father is the main reason your town is still standing—and that reinforcements will be blocked for some time because the other noble families yearn to see your upstart branch removed.”

Adam clenched his jaw. “You—”

“I also know a few more things. Such as how the Auroral Council is divided in focus and interest. Some of them yearn for another war—but with whom? Of this they cannot agree. And others, well, they wish for peace. But they also might want to see your father dead. Because it would spite a rival so nicely. And then there is your father’s main benefactor. But that one is also indisposed. Desperate to hold the Republic together even as all his former friends betray their ideals day after day after day…”

The owl paused and chuckled. “I am afraid that no help will be coming for some time, Young Lord Arrow. Not for you. Not for your town. And not even for your father.”

“You’re lying,” Adam said, hissing through his teeth. “My father is a hero to the Republic. The Republic never abandons its heroes.”

“Oh, but they do. And that’s the least of what they do. Tell me, what do you think happened to veterans of the Abyssal War? Hm? Oh, right. They don’t teach that in your history. Do you think all your warriors and mages forgot an entire five-year campaign filled with blood and misery naturally?”

“Shut up!” Adam shouted. He struggled against Shiv’s grip, and the Deathless had to apply some effort to hold him. The Young Lord was well past acting now. He was genuinely enraged. “Shut your tainted lips! I won’t hear such slander—”

“But that is not up to you,” the owl said, sounding confused. “How can it be? Are you a Master? Are you powerful enough to command me? Do you hold my loyalty?”

Adam didn’t answer these questions, choosing to glare with eyes of pure hate.

The owl remained indifferent. “No. None of those things. So you have no choice but to listen. Or until you and your friend here stop with whatever foolish ploy this is.”

Shiv felt his stomach drop. Well, he wasn’t expecting this to last that long, but being seen through so fast—

“A skilled Psychomancer has shrouded the two of you,” the owl continued. “It is good—though inefficient in places. Shrouding is only achievable through a few rare Skill Evolutions. Why, even now I can barely quite get a grip on your minds. My compliments. I expect to be instructing her soon. I can feel that it is a her—and I can feel a great deal of affection from her… invested in you rather than the Young Lord.” She strolled toward Shiv. A loud rumbling noise sounded from the construct Yunni was completing.

The blackmailed Umbral let out a sob. “The bomb is armed. Now… my son.”

“He will be released. Into the care of New Albion,” the owl said, barely concerning herself with the Umbral.

“What?” Yunni said. Her eyes were wide with confusion. “No, you said—”

“That he would be released. The contract did not state to which nation or what wards. And New Albion is rather fine this time of year. Don’t worry yourself. Your song will end soon, but his will begin. He is quite a talented boy, all things considered—a talented boy in a society that is… inconsiderate of him. But such is the case when you base your structure off spiders. They barely consider their own males sapient. Best that he be given ample opportunity and a finer place to grow.”

“No!” Yunni cried. She blinked, and her face took on a look of primal rage. “I did everything you asked—” Her words turned into a shriek that would follow Shiv into his nightmares. In a second, she went from angry to agonized as her eyes rolled back, and she toppled, foaming from the mouth. Shiv’s Biomancy sensed she was still alive, but her brain was burning up. If her temperature keeps climbing—

Before he could strike the owl with his mana field, Valor spoke.

“Enough, Lady Harkness. Release the woman. Release her child as well. Show a fraction of the honor your grandmother did, and stop debasing yourself before me.”

For the first time, the owl seemed human. She took a step back, and her white cloak fluttered—Shiv could see no armor on her body. Just a pure white suit. “My, is that truly the Great Valor Thann I hear? So our eagles were accurate for once. You have struck a bargain with the Composer, consigning yourself from prisoner to slave. How… disappointing.”

“Your grandmother would have called you the same,” Valor said with a sigh. “For a moment, I wasn’t sure… that’s why I waited and listened. I couldn’t believe it was you. But the more you spoke, the more I heard her voice. You sound just like her. But the way you act—”

“Your friend, Lady Lara Harkness, died years ago, I’m afraid,” the owl said. “Framed, imprisoned, and murdered in front of the ignorant masses like cattle by the throne of the Child Queen Alice.” Harkness laughed. “Eternal may she reign.”

“And so you became this in revenge?” Valor asked, his voice tense with disbelief. “You joined with the Faceless Queen and aided in her reign of terror?”

“Is that what our revolution was?” Harkness said. “When I took revenge, it was an ugly thing born of trauma. But when you murdered your own mother—and slit the throat of your infant half brother before her—that was a tale of noble righteousness.”

“I make no excuses for my past. But that does not absolve your present. And it is all beside the point, because you are no longer slaughtering the corrupt nobility that were selling your nation, but torturing an innocent woman by turning her against her people and tormenting her with the fate of her child. Now. Release her. And release the child.”

The owl hummed. “Very well. Who am I to refuse the commands of a Legend, after all.”

A second later, Shiv felt Yunni’s mind start to cool. She remained unconscious but alive, though her eyes fluttered and blood spilled from her nostrils.

“You’re a godsdamned monster,” Adam spat. “You have no honor treating the weak like that. A proper Pathbearer would never debase themselves hurting the small and the helpless. I will have your head for this, felling vermin.”

But the owl just ignored the raging Young Lord. Instead, she took a few steps closer to Shiv, and he prepared himself for battle.

“But whoare you?” the owl said, pointing a curled finger at Shiv. “Valor Thann does not allow just anyone to hold him. Even as little more than a voice in a dagger, his prestige and legend bear weight. So why you? And who are you?”

“Someone rapidly developing a hate for most birds,” Shiv grunted.

The owl laughed at his words. “Oh, my, this is precious. Truly. This…This is your newest disciple.”

“No,” Valor said. “For now, he is just my friend. If he wishes to learn my ways, however, I will guide him. Especially after what he has done today.”

The woman in white paused. “He has impressed you that much? How? I don’t quite see it.”

“You can find out,” Shiv sneered. With the masquerade broken, he shrugged open his cloak and tore the raven-helm off his head. He released Adam, and the Young Lord took a single step behind Shiv. “I’m ready to do this if you are.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep