The morning of the first audit day broke with a cold, unrelenting rain that turned the training grounds of the Bastion into a pit of grey mud. Baron Vane stood on the viewing gallery, his black cloak billowing in the wind like the wings of a carrion bird. Beside him sat the Imperial Overseer, who was frantically scribbling notes into a ledger.
Cian stood two steps behind the Baron, his head bowed, holding a heavy inkwell and a stack of fresh parchment. He was the perfect picture of the dutiful, insignificant scholar.
"Begin the evaluations," Vane commanded, his voice carrying easily over the sound of the rain.
Below them, the Valerius guards were being put through their paces. One by one, they were forced to spar with the Inquisitor Guards. It was not a fair fight. The Inquisitors were Ascended rank, their movements so fast they were almost invisible to the naked eye. They didn't just defeat the house guards; they dismantled them, striking at pressure points and joints to cause the maximum amount of pain without causing permanent injury.
"Your men are sluggish, Alaric," Vane remarked, not even looking at the Lord of the Bastion standing beside him. "Their stances are full of holes. Their 'Sentinel Breath' is shallow. It seems the border has made them soft."
Alaric said nothing, his hands clenched into white knuckled fists at his sides. He watched as Kael was sent sprawling into the mud by a backhanded strike from an Inquisitor.
"And now, for the main event," Vane said, his grey eyes turning toward Elena, who was standing at the edge of the grounds. She was dressed in simple leather training armor, her hair tied back. To anyone else, she looked ready. To Cian, she looked like she was standing on a tightrope over a volcano.
"Elena Valerius," Vane called out. "Step forward. My captain, Seris, will evaluate your progress. Do not hold back. I wish to see the full extent of your 'Master' talent."
Elena stepped into the mud. Opposite her stood an Inquisitor woman with a jagged scar running down her silver mask. Seris drew a long, slender rapier that hummed with a terrifying, high frequency mana.
"Begin," Vane whispered.
Seris moved. She was an Ascended warrior of the third level, and her speed was a nightmare. She lunged, her blade aimed at Elena's throat.
Elena reacted. But she didn't move with the silver grace Cian had taught her. She moved with the old, slightly stiff movements of the 'Sentinel Breath.' She parried the strike, but allowed her feet to slide in the mud, making it look like she was struggling for balance.
Good, Cian thought, his Akashic Scholar talent analyzing the encounter. She is selling the lie. She is taking the hits she can afford to take.
For ten minutes, the spar continued. Elena was being pushed to her absolute limit. Seris was relentless, her rapier leaving thin, shallow cuts on Elena's arms and legs. Each strike was a test, a probe designed to force Elena to tap into her hidden reserves.
"Is this all?" Vane shouted from the gallery. "Is this the pride of the Valerius line? You fight like a common mercenary, girl! Where is the fire? Where is the strength that shattered the Aptitude Stone?"
Suddenly, Vane released a pulse of Saint rank pressure.
It wasn't a physical strike, but it felt like the sky had suddenly turned into lead. The rain in the courtyard seemed to stop in mid air. The house guards fell to their knees, gasping for air as the sheer weight of a Saint's will crushed their lungs.
Elena stumbled, her knees buckling. The 'Veil of the Void' around her soul groaned under the pressure. Cian could see the blue lines of her mana circuit starting to fracture.
Stay steady, Elena, Cian thought, his own cores pulsing as he tried to subtly resonate with her through the distance, a trick of the Akashic Scholar talent that allowed him to stabilize mana structures he had created.
Vane leaned over the railing, his eyes narrowing. "Show me, Elena. Show me the power your brother hid within you. Break the Veil!"
Seris lunged again, this time aiming a lethal strike at Elena's heart. It was a clear provocation. Vane was betting that Elena would choose survival over the secret.
Elena looked up, her eyes dull and grey. At the last possible second, she didn't use her mana. She used a simple, mundane footwork technique—a "Scholar's Step" she had practiced with Cian when they were children. She twisted her body, letting the rapier pierce the shoulder of her leather armor instead of her heart.
She fell into the mud, coughing, her shoulder bleeding.
"I... I have no more to show, my Lord," she gasped, her voice thick with fake exhaustion. "I am only what you see."
The Saint rank pressure vanished as quickly as it had come. Vane stared at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. The Imperial Overseer looked disappointed, his quill scratching a 'Sub-Par' rating onto the parchment.
"How disappointing," Vane finally said, turning away. "It seems the explosion of the Stone truly was a fluke of a 'Void Soul.' A waste of a relic."
Vane walked away, his Inquisitors following him. Alaric rushed down to the courtyard to help Elena, but Cian remained on the gallery for a moment longer. He looked down at his sister, who gave him a nearly imperceptible nod.
[Quest Update: The Auditor's Gamble.]
[Day 1 of 7: Success.]
[Detection Avoided.]
Cian looked at the inkwell in his hand. He had survived the first day, but he knew Vane wouldn't stop there. The Baron was a hunter, and hunters didn't give up after the first missed shot.
You think the audit is over, Vane, Cian thought, his eyes tracking the Saint's retreat. But I am just getting started. Tonight, I take my guards into the Abyss. And when they return, they won't be guards anymore. They will be the beginning of your end.