Supreme Magus

Chapter 4202: Doomed Bloodline (Part 1)



Chapter 4202: Doomed Bloodline (Part 1)

"No, I meant, why did you bring me along instead of Kigan?" Theseus asked. "You are the tracker in the Organization. Anyone with a Skull of Bytra can do what I do."

"Because you, or rather, your original, are from Verendi." The Shadow Dragon snorted. "You’ve roamed these lands for millennia. You successfully evaded capture at the hands of your siblings and mother for only you know how long.

"If there’s someone who can guide me to whatever gods-forsaken hole the fungus folk has chosen as their hiding place, that’s you."

"Point taken." Theseus sighed. "Yet I’m afraid of what might happen if someone recognizes me. You said it yourself, my entire bloodline is out to get me. Even though I’m not the original Paquut, they will charge me with his crimes."

"After what we did the last time that the Organization came in force to Verendi, after we kicked Ileza’s ass, your siblings are the ones who should be afraid of you. If they knew how strong we have become, they should be terrified of us." She said with a tone that brooked no argument.

"Are we going to hurt the fungus folk once we capture them?" Theseus knew that the Shadow Dragon was right and preferred to change the topic.

"That depends." Xenagrosh replied.

"On what?"

"On what kind of experiments the Master will need to perform and how much the fungus folk will resist capture." She said with a cold voice.

***

Verendi continent, Zamana region, city of Phiresia, Roaring Lion tavern, at the same time.

"Who would have ever thought that one day your old contacts from your mercenary days would pay off?" Erion the Upyr-Jormungandr took a big gulp of his cold beer.

"The morons tried to recruit you to capture the fungus folk, and the only thing they got for it is another competitor.

"The Dead King is lucky to have you. Despite this continent’s constant wars and petty squabbles, the information blackout enforced by Verendi’s Council is perfect. Not a single peep reached any of our informants in the other Awakened Councils."

The harsh winter in Garlen had forced Orpal to stop his operations there, leaving him and his Upyrs all the time they needed to find a way to tap into his remaining bloodline abilities.

The news of the sighting of a fungus folk had aroused the Dead King’s interest, but only up to a point. His Upyrs were late to the game, and it was likely that the creature would be captured before they found a decent lead.

Even if that weren’t the case, and Orpal’s soldiers managed to beat to the punch the Hordes, the Awakened, and all the other powerful beings interested in the secret of the white core, it would just be a hollow victory.

Only those at the bright violet core could attempt to evolve further, and the Dead King and his generals didn’t fit the criteria. Moreover, the legends about the Hordes being the key to the white core of immortality were just legends.

Capturing the fungus folk would just be the first step of a long journey. After that, Orpal would have to force the creature to evolve and then study it until he unveiled the secret. Assuming there was a secret to unveil, of course.

The Dead King had learned the hard way that research was a fickle mistress who made lots of promises but rarely delivered on time. For all Orpal knew, he might have conquered Garlen before understanding how to achieve the white core.

And based on how poorly the Upyr recruitment campaign was going, that was already an overly optimistic assumption.

The Dead King doubted he was the first Awakened to attempt to get their hands on a Horde in order to pry the secret of the white core open, and there were no records of anyone succeeding.

The only thing that capturing a fungus folk would achieve was to improve his public image and throw another bone at those still on the fence about joining his ranks.

Orpal considered the mission a low priority and had sent only a handful of Upyrs to Verendi.

"Even if you don’t find the moldy bastard or someone else captures him, I don’t care. Just make sure to make a lot of noise and showcase your prowess before leaving Verendi. All publicity is good publicity, and we are in desperate need of recruits.

"I’d rather share my gifts with a bunch of bloodthirsty country bumpkins than have no fighting force ready when spring comes." Those had been the Dead King’s parting words, and Akhton hated them from the first to the last.

Not only did Orpal treat the Bastet’s homeland with contempt, but he had also paired him with Erion. The Dead King had already grown suspicious of the Storm Griffon’s frequent disappearances, so Jorl had decided to lie low until the end of winter.

Unluckily for Akhton, the Black Throne refused to move without Jorl, and so did Uragar and Salanoth. The Storm Griffon was the leader of their little conspiracy, and no one cared if the Bastet lived or died.

"Not a single peep reached your informants in the Councils, you mean." Akhton’s voice was a low baritone. "Mine have been unusually silent, and the few who answered my calls were evasive. Something isn’t right here. What if this is a trap?"

The Bastet wasn’t aware that Tyris had informed Ileza of her wayward son’s involvement with the Dead King, nor that Verendi’s Guardian of Life had relayed the news to her children, who were now discussing how to deal with Akhton.

No bounty had been placed on his head yet, but he wasn’t welcome in Verendi anymore and had only a few friends left.

"You’re just being paranoid." Erion laughed, ordering more beer for everyone. "Relax, this is your home country. No one gives a rat’s ass about Verhen or the Griffon Kingdom, quite the contrary.

"After what the Supreme Magus did here, I’m sure that if you revealed your alliance to the Dead King, the people of this place would throw you a parade." The Jormungandr’s amiable smile quickly faded as he looked around to make sure no one had overheard him.

"If you choose to tell anyone, however, do me a favor and keep me out of it. My continent has a much better opinion of Verhen than Verendi. My people would lynch and burn me at the stake if they knew of my involvement with the Dead King.

"I’m the only link left with the Awakened Councils. If my cover is blown, we’ll never get reliable information again, and our cause will suffer."

"I’ll keep that in mind." Akhton nodded.

’I still can’t decide whether Erion has really fallen for Orpal’s propaganda and has become a zealot, or if he’s just an opportunistic bastard who enjoys playing the role of a zealot.’ The Bastet thought.

’If really Erion is a zealot, then I have to be careful while dealing with him. If he notices my lack of devotion to "our" cause, he will report everything to Orpal. If I lose his trust, I won’t be able to move around freely anymore and help Jorl and the others with our plan.’

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