Chapter 158: Paths Diverging
The return journey was far less perilous.
Though a few Rank-1 and even the occasional Rank-2 beast lunged from the underbrush, none lasted long before Jovie's undead knights or Kael's precise strikes.
With fewer threats and lighter steps, they covered ground swiftly.
What had taken them days before now took only two.
By the evening of October 6th, Year 1428, the jagged silhouette of Bloodstone City's outer wall came into view. The sight of the towering black-brick barrier, lit faintly by the glow of torch-posts, tugged a strange relief from the group.
"It's better for us to part here." Jovie's voice broke the silence.
With a sharp gesture, she unsummoned her skeletal escorts. The armored knights disintegrated into ash-light, leaving only the four standing.
Count Alden shifted uneasily before turning to his retainer.
"What will you do, Kael? Will you follow me… or go your own way?" His voice carried an edge of worry.
He had been brooding since the temple—Jovie's sharp warning still gnawed at him. For the first time, the impulsive Count seemed cautious, even self-reflective.
Kael's hand tightened on the tome he carried. He thought of his wife, children, and parents still serving in the Azurehaven household. Though Jovie's warning reassured him, he dared not leave his family.
Moreover, he had stayed under Count Alden for over 30 years and knew him better than anyone else.
Though greedy, he was a man who always thought about his family and duty.
His hesitation lasted only a breath.
"I'll follow you, my lord," he said firmly.
Relief washed over Alden's face, slipping out as a long sigh.
"You need not fear me. I won't reveal that you obtained a legacy of the Agith Era. No, revealing such information will only lead to my doom," He said while glancing at Raven.
Kael nodded silently.
Raven, who had been watching with cool eyes, finally spoke.
"Smart choice, Mr. Alden. But hide most of your spoils. Reveal only what you must."
He paused, then added, "Show your family two or three Epic techniques—no more. Keep the rest somewhere safe."
"I plan to reveal only two knight techniques and one spirit technique, Your Highness," Alden replied. "Even those alone will be enough for Ancestor Gideon to break into a new stage of the Mystic Walker Realm."
"Good." Raven's gaze hardened. "Don't show your other treasures until Kael reaches the Mystic Realm."
Count Alden dipped his head in solemn acknowledgement.
With those words, the parting was sealed. The Count and Kael turned toward the looming city gates, their figures swallowed by the torchlight glow of Bloodstone's outskirts.
Jovie, standing beside Raven, glanced sidelong at him.
"What about you? What do you plan to do?"
Instead of answering, Raven touched his own cheek. His flesh rippled like ink in water. His straight black hair curled into soft waves, his jaw reshaped to a longer oval, and faint whiskers sprouted along his chin. His eyes shimmered, then became clear azure, while his skin lightened into a fairer hue.
In moments, he had completely changed into a stranger.
He donned a bowler hat, then slipped into a black frock coat over his tailored clothes. He took a polished monocle from his pocket and fixed it neatly over his left eye.
He tipped his hat toward Jovie with impeccable grace.
"Let's meet again someday, my lady."
And with that, his form dissolved into a fleeting shadow.
Jovie blinked, lips twitching in surprise. "…That kid has grown."
When she had first met him in the capital, he had been an open book—transparent in his emotions. She could read his mind with a mere look at his soul form.
But now he had grown enough to conceal his inner emotions.
Shaking her head, she turned and walked alone toward the city gates.
…
The clock chimed 8 P.M. in Bloodstone City.
Dusky Luxury—a high-class inn in the Central Borough—bustled with silence.
A man with black hair, azure eyes, and a bowler hat strode through its ornate entrance. He carried himself with quiet confidence, a noble in every subtle gesture.
After securing a first-class suite for two nights, he followed the attendant to the second floor. Once inside, he washed away the road's dust, changed into elegant but straightforward casual wear, and settled at the desk.
Unfolding the evening newspaper, Raven scanned the bold print.
"Legacy News! 6th Oct. Rune Era 1428."
"The Grand Expedition to the Agith Ruins is planning to start tomorrow! Over 500 mercenaries from nearby cities and towns have been gathered at Bloodstone City. This expedition is said to cover up to 50km deep into the woods…"
Most articles excitedly brimmed over the Thornevale family's large-scale expedition, scheduled for the next morning.
"Hm. They may be disappointed… or perhaps not," Raven murmured, eyes narrowing behind the monocle. "If they press deeper, they might stumble upon something even greater."
He turned the page with a flick of his wrist. The crackle of paper echoed in the quiet suite.
"Sixteenth of October… the Royal Crown Challenging Ceremony?" His brows furrowed. "Should I attend?"
[That's very risky, lad.] Zera's voice hummed in his skull.
Raven leaned back, folding the paper against his chest. "The Starkey household of the Vera Empire will be attending, too. They claim it's for the ceremony, but their true aim is obvious. They want an alliance through marriage." His jaw tightened. "And the pawn will be my sister."
Zera chuckled darkly. [You're letting sentiment cloud your vision. She'll be married off sooner or later—if not to this candidate, then another. Do you think Baron Alexander's son is a better match? The boy is painfully average. At least in Vera's court, her life might be grander. She may live far better than now.]
Raven shook his head and refilled his glass of water, his tone dropping to a whisper. "It's not just her marriage. It's the Empire's future. In the dreamworld's newspaper, Emperor Ian was assassinated on January 12th, 1452. After that, his line falls one by one. Right now, Zenith has no ties to Vera. But if Ian weds my sister into their court…" His fist clenched over the folded paper. "The royal family's fate will be sealed."
[True. And don't forget—you've already disrupted the fate by killing the future Sixth Serpent.]
Raven tapped his fingers against the armrest, thoughtful. "It's not like I planned that. I didn't know Nash would betray Count Alder. The Sixth Serpent might've been someone else with the same name."
[No. If Nash had survived, he'd have risen to rank five or become a legendary knight within twenty years. That ancient tome was enough to change everything.]
Raven exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple. "Nash, Wizard Ariel, the others… they weren't tempted by the Epic techniques. But they moved to kill Count when they found that Pseudo-Legendary Spirit Technique."
[Anyway, we should be glad that Kael managed to get his hands on the Agith era inheritance.]
Raven nodded faintly, his gaze drifting toward the lamp. "The future I saw is already different because of me. Though major incidents like war, undead outbreaks, and famines wouldn't have changed, I can still change minor incidents. For now, I should meet up with Lady Judith and then decide."
The paper slipped from his lap onto the desk. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling momentarily before sighing.
"Enough. Rest first."
He extinguished the lamp, lay down, and soon drifted into sleep.
…
The next morning, Raven woke before dawn. He cleaned up, dressed neatly, and went to the Dusky Luxury's reception. After breakfast, he booked a train ticket bound for the Royal Capital.
The steam engine whistled as it roared along its tracks. The scenery outside shifted from forests to plains, then to sprawling towns, then to the broad highways lined with merchant caravans. The journey lasted four long days.
By the time the train rolled into the Royal Capital's grand station, it was already noon. Raven stepped out, blending seamlessly into the sea of passengers. Dressed as Thomas Holmes, his bowler hat tilted just enough to shadow his azure eyes.
Soon, his boots clicked against the cobblestones of Garden Street. The familiar building of Crown's Tavern came into view. Its gilded sign shimmered under the midday sun.
As he entered, a sharp-eyed receptionist behind the counter looked up. She was in her thirties, with brown hair tied neatly into a bun. Her formal red dress and overcoat gave her the refined air of a seasoned manager.
The moment her eyes landed on him, recognition flared.
"Welcome to the Crown's Tavern, Mr. Holmes." She bowed her head with a warm smile.
Raven blinked in mild surprise but quickly composed himself. With a slight smile, he placed four platinum coins on the desk.
"Book the same three-storied mansion house I used last time. Eight days."
"Understood." The receptionist slid the coins away, her movements smooth and practiced. After jotting down the details, she handed him a golden key.
"We've also arranged a butler, two maids, and two Expert-ranked knights for your service and protection, my lord. You need anything else?"
"No," He responded while waving his hand.
"Then, the appointed butler will guide you." The receptionist added while turning her gaze towards the left side.
Raven gave a polite nod.
A familiar figure stepped forward from the side corridor, bowing respectfully.
"It's good to see you again, my lord," Harold greeted warmly.
Raven's brow lifted slightly. "You again?"
"Yes, my lord. I was instructed to continue serving you whenever you return." Harold's tone carried subtle pride.
Without delay, the small entourage escorted Raven to the mansion estate. The knights stationed themselves at the gates, while Harold led the way up the cobblestone path to the tall three-storied residence. With practiced ease, he unlocked the door and guided Raven inside.
The air smelled faintly of polished wood and fresh herbs, clearly maintained daily by unseen hands.
"Harold," Raven said, pausing in the foyer, "make an appointment with Lady Judith."
The butler stiffened. "S-Sir, I warned you last time. Lady Judith rarely meets anyone while residing here. It is… almost impossible."
"She will agree." Raven's tone brooked no argument. He waved his hand dismissively and turned away.
Suppressing his doubts, Harold bowed. "Very well, my lord. I will attempt to arrange it."
Raven didn't respond. Instead, he walked down the left corridor. His steps echoed against the stone as he reached a sealed metal gate. He unlocked it with a push, revealing a staircase spiraling downward into gloom.
"Do not disturb me until I come out," he ordered without turning back. "You may do as you wish—but keep away from the basement."
"Yes, my lord," Harold replied solemnly.
Raven descended after locking the door. The air grew colder, heavier, until he finally emerged into a vast underground chamber swallowed in shadows.
He took an Aether lamp from his ring, lit it, and placed it on the nearby stone table. Its pale glow pushed back the dark to reveal the bare stone walls.
Raven took a grotesque corpse from his spatial ring—the Rank-2 Mind Worm with creepy eyes all over. Its pallid flesh glistened sickly, and its maw was still curled in a silent scream.
Raven crouched beside it and pressed his palm to its head.
"Activate the Bloodline Devouring Ability," He ordered.
At once, blackened blood seeped from the worm's wounds, rising unnaturally into the air. Thick streams of darkness coiled together, condensing into a large orb that pulsed faintly with psychic malice.
Raven's face tightened, but he pressed harder.
The orb shrank, collapsing into a crystalline shard of blood essence no larger than a thumb. It glimmered faintly with sinister luster before shooting into his palm.
The instant it entered his body, searing pain wracked him.
Raven staggered, clutching his head. The blood essence burrowed into his veins, sending waves of fire through his muscles. At the same time, a strange pain slammed against his mind—like a thousand worms creeping inside his skull.
"Aaagh—!" His vision blurred. He bit down, suppressing the scream, sweat dripping from his temples.
Raven fell to one knee, gritting his teeth as his blood boiled and his head pounded with unbearable pressure.