Chapter 37: Two Birds With Five Stones

Aden’s heart sank to the pits of his stomach. The appearance of the Princess was something he couldn’t have predicted in his wildest dreams.

Endless questions popped in his mind. ’Why is she here? Why did she choose to take on the role of Purificator?’

Aden filtered through Daren’s memories, and could come up with at least three other people who could take on the role of Purificator for the kingdom.

He also unwillingly recalled the glaring fact that the Princess was smart… Scarily smart.

Although, there was a possibility she was here purely on business and her passing through the town was a coincidence.

Aden shook his head and took to his feet, pushing the meal to the kids.

His instincts which had been honed by fighting beasts–both intelligent and primal, were currently warning him of the impending danger the Princess posed.

If she somehow found out about his Void powers, he could kiss every hope of living freely goodbye.

He turned to the boys, his neutral expression returning, though a bead of cold sweat rolled down his neck.

“Listen to me carefully,” Aden said, his voice dropping into that distorted, metallic tone.

“Eat what you can, now. Then, you’re going to find a way to leak a rumor to the Bodywns.”

The boys paused, meat hanging from their mouths. “A rumor, Lord?”

“Tell them the ’Silver God’ is displeased with the Royal arrival. Tell them the golden chariot carries ’impurities’ that will hinder the cure.” Aden’s mind raced. “If the Bodywns want to prove their loyalty, they need to make sure the Princess’s warriors are too busy dealing with ’civil unrest’ to search the sewers.”

He stood up, his legs still shaky but the food providing a much-needed spark of energy. He grabbed the violet-veined mask and pressed it to his face.

The moment it touched his skin, the eyes on the wood glowed.

[NOTIFICATION]

Sync Rate: 12%

New Passive: [False Frequency] — For 10 minutes, your Resonance will mimic a Stage 1 “Cough-Sufferer.”

’Ten minutes,’ Aden thought, his eyes turning cold behind the demon mask. ’I have ten minutes to get to the Bodywns, collect those ledgers, and vanish before Elara’s Anchor pinpoints this basement.’

“Go!” Aden commanded the boys. “I’ll meet you at the back entrance of the Den.”

As the boys scrambled out, Aden looked at the hole he’d canned in the wall earlier.

’I don’t think I can come back here after all…’

The town rumbled as the Royal Envoy passed through the damaged gates. The residents left everything they were doing to watch the Royal Procession, their faces filled with awe as the colossal beasts strutted on the muddy floor.

Whispers rose amongst them.

“Is the Princess really coming to save us?” A child carried by her mother asked innocently.

The mother cleaned the dirt from her daughter’s cheek lovingly. “Yes, darling. The Kingdom didn’t abandon us after all.”

In another gathering, people were skeptical of the whole event.

“What’s the Princess’s true purpose of coming here?” A man spat.

“It’s probably another political campaign to keep the real citizens faithful to the Royal Family,” a man who rested on a wall with his arms crossed replied.

A few of them nodded in agreement, while the rest were too entranced by the hovering carriages and colossal beasts that filled the sky and streets to care.

A man who had his head thickly wrapped in sackcloth coughed lightly, whispering apologies as he weaved through the crowd, occasionally earning insults and groans of discomfort.

He headed left towards to a building with a surprisingly clear frontal area. He peeked into the window and saw three kids speaking with a bald headed man who had a fanatical expression on his face.

’Damn, they were right. He’s batshit crazy.’

The three boys were gesturing wildly, their voices hushed but urgent, while the bartender, Bodywn, clutched the wooden decree as if it were a shield against the heavens.

“Impurities?” Bodywn hissed, his face turning a shade of purple that almost matched the Princess’s royal banners. “The Royals dare bring filth into this town while the God works for our salvation? They’ll choke our streets with their ’purity’ until we all turn to dust!”

Aden, watching from the shadows of the window, felt a twinge of guilt. He was effectively weaponizing a man’s fanaticism to start a riot against a teenager in a golden carriage.

’Survival of the fittest, Aden,’ he reasoned.

Aden slipped away from the window and glided toward the back alley. His movements were sluggish; the False Frequency was doing its job too well, making his muscles feel heavy and his breath shallow, perfectly mimicking the advanced stages of the Grey-Cough.

He reached the back door just as it creaked open. The three boys tumbled out, followed closely by Vaviel, the bartender’s son, who was carrying a heavy iron-bound ledger.

“He’s here,” the skinny boy whispered, pointing toward the shadow where Aden stood.

Vaviel stopped dead. He looked at the man in the sackcloth the one who smelled of sickness and rot—and then his eyes traveled up to the Hannya mask. Under the dim alley light, the violet veins in the wood seemed to slither like living worms.

“My… My Lord,” Vaviel stammered, dropping to one knee. He held the ledger out with trembling hands. “The records. Every alchemist, every shipment, and every noble who took a bribe to look the other way while the medicine disappeared. It’s all here.”

Aden stepped forward, his hand emerging from the sackcloth. It was pale, the skin pulled tight over the knuckles. He took the book.

“And the distraction?” Aden’s voice was a rasping metallic grate.

“My father is already at the front,” Vaviel said, his voice gaining a feverish edge. “He’s telling the crowd that the Royal lion-beasts are carrying the source of the plague, that the ’Purificator’ is actually here to cull the weak. The people are already reaching for their stones, Lord.”

A distant roar echoed from the town square—the sound of a crowd turning from awe to anger.

Aden tucked the ledger under his arm.

’God, I’m a terrible person,’ he thought.

But as he turned to leave, a sudden, piercing chill washed over him. It wasn’t the wind. It was a sharp, focused needle of Resonance that swept through the alleyway like a searchlight.

The Anchor.

High above, on a nearby roof, a figure in a grey coat stood perfectly still, a silver compass-like device in his hand spinning wildly before locking onto the alleyway.

Aden didn’t say a word. He vanished into the darkness of the neighboring building just as a silver-clad warrior on a blue-furred beast rounded the corner of the alley.

“You there!” the warrior barked at the boys and Vaviel. “Why is the Resonance frequency in this sector almost non existent?”

Vaviel and the three kids stared at the man with weird expressions.

“Whatever do you mean?” Vaviel asked, his eyes clearly portraying confusion.

The three kids also cast side glances at the warrior while desperately hoping he won’t spot their shaking hands.

The warrior furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the compass again.

The arrow pointed in another direction, inadvertently exonerating the four of them.

The man alternated between his compass and the kids, but before he could say anything, his expression changed.

“Y–yes, I’ll be there soon, Commander,” he replied as he massaged his temple lightly.

Without sparing another glance at the kids, he jumped out the alleyway to the direction where the angry citizens gathered.

Vaviel smirked with his eyes closed. “Heh, our Lord is as capable as ever.”

The trio were too shaken up to listen to his fanatic ramblings. They patted Vaviel’s shoulder and headed back into the shop with slouched backs.

“We better get more meat after this,” the skinny one mumbled as they sat on the chair.

The rest hummed in agreement, but they couldn’t shake the thought that had slowly formed and reinforced itself in their minds.

Who was this man?

Elara rested on the cushion in the carriage as she listened to the briefing from Vane.

“So you’re saying the citizens suddenly want the Royal Procession to return back to the kingdom?” She recounted.

Vane nodded reluctantly.

“Why don’t they ask of the Royal Treasury as well?”

Vane remained silent as he ruffled the blue fur of his beast.

Elara groaned lightly as she rode past another wave of angry citizens.

’This is definitely abnormal,’ she thought. ’What are the chances the previously awe– filled citizens suddenly turn this violent with no external influence?’

Her eyes narrowed.

’My Anomaly knows I’m here and he has a solid footing on this town,’ her fingers touched her chin. ’Could it be someone in power?’

No one else came to mind except the ambassadors and governor of this town possibly having a connection to the Anomaly.

Or the Anomaly being a person in power.

’Then again, the citizens would’ve known if their leaders had somehow survived a God–tier battle.’

A smile tugged at the edges of her lips. Her eyes flickered as she mumbled, “You’ve not dissapointed me, Anomaly.”

“You’re making me think”

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