The news spread faster than fire.
By morning, the slums hummed with rumor.
"The brat froze a dozen Ash Rats in their tracks—killed them where they stood."
"No, I heard he turned their blood to ice from the inside out."
"They say he didn't even touch them. Just looked, and the frost answered."
"A demon. No boy has power like that. Not without sacrifice."
The whispers slithered up through the alleys, coiled around tavern tables, slipped into Guild halls. By midday, the boy alchemist's name was on tongues in every district. Some spoke it with awe, others with fear, but all with fascination.
The Guild moved quietly, sending observers cloaked as merchants, as beggars, as buyers of herbs. But Jade felt them. His Void Sense prickled each time their gaze brushed the shop. They watched, they whispered, but they did not act—not yet.
Not until they were certain.
....
Inside the shop, Jade sat at his workbench, hands steady once more as he ground herbs into pale powder. Frost shimmered faintly around the pestle with each press, binding the ingredients together with perfect precision. To anyone watching, he was calm. A boy at work.
But beneath the blindfold, his dual pupils shifted restlessly, their light catching against the edges of his thoughts.
Quest Complete: Embers of Revolt
Rewards Granted:
+5 to all stats
+1 Skill Point
Artifact Fragment Acquired: [Nyx-Glass Shard]
The system had rewarded him again. Stats climbing. Power growing. But with every step forward, the eyes that followed him multiplied.
And Niamh's voice still echoed in his mind.
They were children.
He pressed the pestle harder than he meant to. The roots cracked sharply, splintering under his grip.
He exhaled slowly, letting frost curl around his fingers to hide the slip.
Outside, Nexus City pulsed with restless life. The Guild, the gangs, the merchants—each tugged at threads that now wound around his name.
And far below, in the slums' deepest alleys, the Ash Rats licked their wounds and sharpened their knives.
This was not over. It was only the beginning.
--------------------------------------------------------
By morning, the slums of Nexus burned—not with literal flame, but with rumor.
Every alley carried a different version. Some said the boy had raised an army of ice phantoms that devoured flesh. Others swore they had seen him sprout wings of frost, his blindfold unraveling to reveal eyes that belonged to no mortal. Still others whispered he had drunk the blood of the Ash Rats and turned it into frozen weapons.
Children who had watched from cracks in the walls told their mothers, who told their neighbors, who told the black-market dealers by noon. Within hours, every fry cart, every powder den, every hidden brothel had its own iteration of the tale.
The blindfolded demon of the inner city.
Fear twisted it. Envy sharpened it. And soon, hatred spread like smoke.
On the third floor of the Alchemists' Guild Hall, a council of mid-tier alchemists gathered. They were not the masters of the city, but they were close enough to power to feel threatened when it shifted.
A parchment lay across the table, stained with ink and signed by multiple witnesses:
> "A boy of seven, unlicensed, unregistered, displayed frost-based talents exceeding Tier-3 standards, slaying multiple citizens."
An older woman with brass-rimmed spectacles slammed her hand against the table. "This cannot stand. A child with this much raw ability, outside Guild supervision? It undermines the very structure we've built."
Another alchemist, younger, with ink-stained fingers, leaned back with a sneer. "Or it replaces it. If the rumors are even half true, his brews surpass ours. Do you think the merchants care who makes the potion if it heals their wounds? They'll flock to him."
"Then we bring him in," the first snapped. "If the Guild cannot control him, the Guild must consume him."
A silence fell. The word consume hung heavy. None voiced disagreement.
While the Guild fumed, the Merchant Consortium watched with sharper eyes.
In a smoke-filled office high in the trade district, a man with gold-threaded sleeves leaned over his desk. The ledgers before him glittered with numbers—profits, losses, predictions. He had already received reports: the boy's potions healed at rates impossible for standard brews, his frost had stopped a mob where mercenary squads might have failed, and his name now rode every tongue in the slums.
"Miracles in a bottle," the merchant murmured. His assistant, a thin woman with iron-gray hair, tapped her notes.
"Dangerous miracles. The mob called him demon."
"Demon or angel, coin does not care." He smiled thinly. "We will find a way to bind him to us. Or profit from the chaos he leaves behind."
---
At the gates of the inner district, guards shifted uneasily. The captain of the watch received the report at dawn and cursed under his breath.
"A child slaughtered a gang. A child."
One of his lieutenants muttered, "With frost that could freeze a man standing. I saw it with my own eyes."
The captain rubbed his face. "The slums eat themselves every week. If this boy froze a dozen Rats, that's a dozen less thieves to stab us in the dark. Why should we care?"
"Because," the lieutenant said darkly, "if he can freeze them, he can freeze us."
...
Back at the Shop
Jade spent the morning as though nothing had changed. He clipped herbs, mixed tinctures, adjusted grav-containers with patient movements. Customers came hesitantly, then more boldly, each leaving with bottles glowing faintly in their hands. Some avoided his blindfold, unable to meet the calm tilt of his head. Others whispered blessings under their breath.
Niamh hovered like a hawk, her presence sharp. Every time the door chimed, her eyes flicked to Jade as if she expected a blade to come through next. Gorvoth, as ever, leaned in the corner, silent but observant, his pipe smoke curling like a veil.
Yet beneath Jade's calm, his system stirred.
[System Alert]
Quest Updated: Embers of Revolt
Progress: Wave One Repelled.
New Objective: Survive the city's response.
Time Limit: 30 days.
Rewards: +10 INT, ??? Skill Unlock.
Failure: Death or permanent enslavement to the Guild.
Jade's lips twitched. So the game deepens.
--------------------------------------------------------
In the tallest spire of Nexus City, far from slums and smoke, sat men and women whose names moved armies. They had also heard the whispers. Reports slid across crystal tables, voices argued, predictions clashed.
A councilor in deep blue robes frowned. "If the boy exists, he is either asset or threat. Both demand control."
Another countered, "He is a child. Let him be. Why waste resources?"
"Because," the first snapped, "children grow."
The Ash Rats were not gone. Those who survived limped back, eyes hollow, voices shrill. They spoke of comrades frozen mid-step, of screams cut short by ice that grew like a living beast.
Soon, rival gangs smelled weakness. The Ash Rats' territory began to splinter as others encroached, emboldened by their humiliation. Blood spilled in alleys, not just frost this time, and the name Jade became a curse spat through broken teeth.
The boy ruined us.
The boy must pay.
That evening, as Jade closed his shutters, his Void Sense brushed against something subtle. Not the mob, not the chaotic tides of the slums, but a sharper presence. Several, in fact.
He did not move. He only adjusted the lights, feigning calm as the sense coiled at the edge of his mind.
In the rooftops above, cloaked figures watched. Guild spies, merchant agents, even a few hired blades from outside districts. Each wrote reports, whispered through comm-stones, or simply stared.
And farther still, in the deepest shadow where even neon failed to reach, an other figure lingered. Cloaked in black, face obscured, aura coiled and restrained.
They did not write. They did not whisper. They only watched the boy close his shop for the night.
And when they turned away, their voice was little more than breath carried by the wind
"He's more perceptive than expected."
Far above the city, in the Spire's highest chamber, a sealed letter changed hands. It bore a sigil rarely seen, one whispered only in legends of war: the mark of the Silent Ravens
The order was simple.
Test the boy.
And so, the hunt began.
-------------------------------------------------
Author here 🙂
I hope I did a good job writing the multiple POVs
It wasn't easy but I tried to make sure it didn't come out too bad
Excuse my inexperience honourable readers
Thank you for reading 😊