Chapter 61: Covert Meeting

  Damon stopped walking for a moment as he considered his options. He did not need to meet with the Law Enforcement Hall Leader from the Arcane Tower of Argent Flame. However, he had been insisting on meeting him for a very long time, and he was curious what it would be about.

  Thomas and Claire also paused in their steps and looked at the contemplative Damon.

  “Damon, what’s going on? Aren’t you coming?” Thomas asked in confusion.

  “Yeah, we have to discuss how we’re going to deal with Nox. Obviously, he and the Towers came to this Convergence with sinister motives.” Claire added, her voice laced with chilling sharpness.

  “Oh… I just remembered I had to do something in East Tradehaven… How about we meet up tomorrow, instead?” Damon made up his mind and waved at them while heading to a different region of the docks.

  Damon quickly disappeared into the throng of people trying to find their rides back to their respective shores. Thomas and Claire watched him until they couldn’t see him anymore before looking at one another.

  “What do you think he’s doing? He was acting very suspiciously ever since he took out that communication disc.” Claire raised one eyebrow as she crossed her arms.

  “Yeah, I don’t think he knows how bad he is at staying inconspicuous. Maybe he’s gone off to meet a girl or something?” Thomas scratched his cheek and then shook his head as he turned away. “Who cares? Let’s head back to the Academy.”

  Claire’s face turned red when she heard Thomas’s words. “What? A girl? No way, Damon’s not that type of guy!”

  Although inwardly she felt a strange tightness in her chest, she ignored it and followed Thomas while arguing with him about what Damon had gone off to do.

  After hitching a ride on a small passenger boat, Damon quickly arrived at the stone port of East Tradehaven. He tossed the ferryman a first-tier essence stone as he jumped onto the grayish-white rocks that made up the docks.

  He did not make the mistake of getting off at the slum docks again. Although he had draped his simple gray cloak over himself, hiding his Academy Robes beneath, he only needed to flash his identity badge to the dockhand to be allowed free passage.

  After receiving directions to the Sleeping Fox Inn from the same dockhand, he walked toward his destination. On his way, he pulled his hood all the way up to cover his face as well. He hunched his shoulders, adopting the gait of a weary wanderer as he entered through the main doors of the Inn.

  Within, the bar counter and the furniture were all old and worn, yet impeccably clean. As the night was still a couple of hours away, there were no other customers seated at any of the tables. Even the bar was unmanned by a bartender or innkeeper.

  Walking through the dark room, Damon chose to sit at the very back of the room, where the light from the fireplace or windows struggled to reach. He melded into the background, unnoticeable at first glance.

  Even so, he was immediately discovered by the innkeeper when she emerged from the back kitchen. She was middle-aged and had a broad figure. Although she had a round face with plump cheeks, she was also quite pretty in a rustic way. Wiping her hands clean on a rag, she arrived in front of Damon.

  “What can I do for ya, son?”

  Damon was momentarily taken aback as his hood still concealed his identity. How did she know he was a man?

  “Ahem. I would like a flagon of your best alcohol. Do you have any first-tier mystic wines?” Damon responded in a gruff voice.

  A friendly smile appeared on the innkeeper’s face. “Boy, ya dun even look as old as me son. Are ya sure ya can ‘andle such a drink?”

  Due to his surprise, Damon’s voice reverted to his normal tone without his knowledge. Pulling his hood tighter, he asked, “How were you able to tell my age?”

  “If ya’ve been in this industry for as long as I ‘ave, ya’d be able to do so as well.” The Innkeeper guffawed heartily for a moment before continuing. “Ya ‘aven’t been ‘ere before ‘ave ya? All me regulars know I ‘ave good eyes. Besides, ya can’t fool me by lowering ya voice like dat.”

  Good eyes? Was she born with a special ocular ability? Perhaps she’s an Auron? There’s no doubt that she’s an expert, as she was able to see through my ruse with ease. Even my deep voice failed to elude her senses.

  Impressed, Damon replied, “You are correct. It is indeed my first time here. Although I am young, I am a mid stage Arcon, so I can handle some mystic liquor.”

  “A cultivator, ‘ey?” The Innkeeper returned to the bar to fill a flagon with a dark purple liquid. After setting it in front of Damon along with a small ceramic cup, she asked, “Ya ‘ere for da tournament?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Damon poured a cup of wine and then took a sip.

  A mellow, refreshing flavor coated the inside of his mouth, the chilled liquid sliding down his throat without him needing to swallow. Right after, a burst of fruitiness exploded on his taste buds, as though he had just eaten a bite of fruit salad. A steady stream of warm and gentle arcane energy entered his body through his stomach.

  Wow, this is great! Just as good as the Mysticflame Brew that I drank with Brother Igor.

  “Ya see da match today? Between Damon and dat Tower fellow? Me son just came back yelling about it. E’s a big fan of Damon, after all.” The Innkeeper chuckled.

  “Oh… Yeah, I saw that… By the way, what is this drink called, and how much is it?” Damon glossed over the topic of himself.

  “Dat Dere is the famous Plumwispa Wine of our Sleeping Fox Inn. It’ll cost ya 10 first-tier essence stones.”

  Damon had been taking another swig of the wine and almost spat it out upon hearing the price. However, he managed to keep his mouth shut, and only a single trickle of purple liquid trailed down from the corner of his lips. He could not waste any of this precious wine, especially if it cost 10 stones for a single flagon.

  After swallowing down the wine, Damon coughed a couple of times and then wiped his mouth. “Plum… Whisper Wine?”

  “Aye, dat’s da one.” The Innkeeper grinned with her hands outstretched.

  Damon reluctantly withdrew 10 essence stones and placed them in the Innkeeper’s claw-like hands. Watching her fingers close in around the stones, it felt like they were crushing his heart instead.

  “Dank ya, boy.” The Innkeeper chuckled as she placed the stones into a pocket in her apron. Then she went back into the kitchen with a large smile.

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  “Damn it, this entire world is filled with swindlers,” Damon grumbled. He looked down at the half-cup of wine he had left. He placed the flagon with the remaining wine in his storage pouch for later consumption, deciding to only sip on the half-cup until his contact, Arthur, arrived.

  As the sun set outside, people started to trickle into the Inn. Many looked like weather-worn travelers who were residing at the Inn while visiting the Tradehaven. A few came in small groups, chatting and laughing as they ate a meal and had drinks. They seemed like the local regulars the Innkeeper had been talking about.

  A few more hours passed, and the Inn was bustling with noisy, drunk men. However, they did not approach the corner Damon had claimed as his own. His shady atmosphere made the other patrons unwilling to intrude, who were only here to enjoy a drink with their buddies before going home to be scolded by their wives for staying out too late.

  As the customers were singing a folk song with their arms linked over each other’s shoulders, a man in a thick black cloak entered the room. The singing men paused for a moment, yet turned their gazes away and resumed their rowdy antics right after.

  The man in the cloak glanced around the room before discovering Damon sitting in the dark corner. He quickly approached before sitting opposite him.

  “Are you… Damon Fletcher?” The cloaked man asked in a hushed tone.

  “Indeed. You must be Arthur, the Law Enforcement Hall Master?”

  Heaving a sigh of relief, the cloaked man pulled down his hood. His face was masked, the same mask that the other cultivators from the Law Enforcement Hall had worn. Damon’s eyes turned red the moment he saw that mask, images of the past suddenly flooding into his mind. At the very center of these images was the memory of the devastated village, and Lyndon's remains lying beneath the masked cultivator’s feet. His hand clenched the ceramic cup so hard that it shattered into pieces.

  “I apologize for being late. I had planned to come right after the last match, but there was a slight issue due to Alexander being knocked out. Lord Gabriel was quite angry…” Arthur chuckled as he explained, yet stopped talking once he noticed Damon had become rigid and broken his cup. “Damon?”

  The world turned red, and the arcane and mental power circulated within his body as Damon prepared to attack. Thankfully, the circulating mental power was like a river of clean water draining into his mind and purifying the redness that had previously taken over. As the world returned to normal, Damon clasped his head as he breathed unsteadily.

  “Damon? What happened? Is everything okay?” Arthur asked, tilting his body at an angle that allowed him to jump back at any moment.

  As Damon opened his mouth to respond, the world began to turn red again. He quickly circulated his mental power, yet he soon discovered the redness was due to his left eye being covered in blood. His own bleeding hand had been the cause. He wiped it away and looked down at his hand, which had a large laceration from when the ceramic cup had broken in his grasp.

  Withdrawing some bandages, he began wrapping his wound as he replied to Arthur. “My apologies. Your mask reminded me of some… Bad experiences, and I accidentally injured my hand. Why did you ask to meet?”

  Upon hearing Damon’s words, Arthur secretly put away the dagger he had grasped beneath his cloak and took off his mask, hiding it within his robes. He was a middle-aged man with tanned skin and brown eyes. He had short brunette hair and stubble, highlighting his square chin even further.

  Arthur said with a serious expression, “Sorry about the mask. I understand my subordinates must have made things difficult for you back then. However, you must know that we were just following orders. The reason I called you here was to discuss potential trade and cooperation.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Damon scrutinized Arthur’s face. He couldn’t find any hints of remorse or dishonesty. However, that wasn’t enough for him to trust Arthur.

  In a low growl, Damon asked, “Following orders? Did the Tower order you to kill the mortals in that small town? Or all the villagers in Stonepillar Village? Obviously, all of you are ruthless. Why would I trust you enough to cooperate with you?”

  “It is true that many of my subordinates are cruel. Unfortunately, the vast majority of cultivators end up becoming this way after gaining power. I can’t attest to my purity, as I am no saint, either. However, the cooperation I seek with you is one of mutual benefit, not of trust.” Arthur spoke with a sincere tone.

  Unconvinced, Damon asked in a cold tone. “Okay, let’s hear it, then. What is this cooperation you seek?”

  Angling forward, Arthur whispered, “First, I need to ask you about something. This recent upheaval your Academy experienced. Was the cause suspicious? As though outsiders plotted for your apprentices to kill each other?”

  Damon pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. “You should give me something first, instead of trying to get information out of me for free.”

  Arthur leaned back into his chair and raised both his hands in defeat. “You’re right. Okay, I’ll tell you my speculations first, and then you can answer my questions. In recent years, I’ve noticed a considerable increase in movements of cultivators from our Tower. They are being stationed in strange locations that provide no resources. This, by itself, does not reveal anything. However, I saw something when I visited Lord Gabriel’s study during a standard report. It was a map. A map of the region surrounding the Verdant Sigil Tradehaven.”

  When Arthur paused, Damon spoke up. “Increased movement? A map? This doesn’t mean anything.”

  A small smile appeared on Arthur’s face. “You’re right. With just that, it’s still not enough to come to a conclusion. However, what if I told you that I’ve received reports from my scouts that cultivators from the other three Towers are all doing the same? What if I told you that the locations they are being stationed at are close to the border between our Towers and your Assembly?"

  Arthur’s words struck Damon’s mind like a hammer. As his pupils constricted, he finally came to a realization. “Don’t tell me… Are the Towers planning on invading?”

  “No. I can’t be certain of that, yet. The cultivators who have been mobilized have only been small groups, not large enough to form an army. However, regardless of what the exact reasons are, it is obvious that there are dangers afoot.”

  Damon remained silent as he took in what he had learned from the conversation. “So, why have you told me this? Why are you asking about what’s happening in the Academy? Are you trying to extract information from me?”

  Crossing his arms on his chest, Arthur shook his head. “That’s not it. I don’t have a strong bond with the Arcane Tower of Argent Flame. I have experienced poor treatment there, if I’m being honest. You haven’t been in the Academy for long, so I assume you have no true attachments to your Assembly as well. That is the basis of our cooperation. We exchange information that relates to our own personal survival. That way, no matter what happens, we can at least get out unscathed.”

  “So we’re turning our backs on our associations and feeding intel to each other? How do I know you won’t just turn in that information to your Tower right away?”

  “We won’t trade information like the overall troop movements. We will only notify each other of our general location and inform the other if any attacks are imminent. We will only trade the information necessary for our survival, as I mentioned earlier.”

  Damon tapped his index finger on the table as he contemplated Arthur’s suggestion. After a while, he looked up and met Arthur’s gaze. “You’re right. The disaster in our Academy was strange. There was definitely external involvement, but I can’t give you any other details since I don’t know anything else. I am only an Initiate.”

  “Okay, that’s fine. I had my suspicions. I am not sure if it was the doing of one of the Towers, but I assume that is the case. Once I find out any more information, I will disclose it to you. The communication disc you have is paired with mine, meaning it can only be used to contact me, but the upside is that the distance we can communicate from is much greater. Though another downside is that each message will require an essence stone. Anyway, does this mean you accept my proposal?” Arthur stood up and held out his hand above the table.

  After a moment of hesitation, Damon also rose and clasped Arthur’s hand. “Deal. The information you’ve already provided is already incredibly valuable. It would be improper of me to reject it now. I think our first step is to discover what the exact plans are.”

  As he shook Arthur’s hand, Damon grew curious. “By the way, why me? Why did you choose me?”

  With a crafty smile, Arthur said, “Well, you’ve already proven that you can defeat Disciples as just an Initiate. Besides, I already told you the main reason earlier. I thought you would be similar to me, with your main goal being your own survival instead of the prosperity of the Assembly.”

  Damon remained silent, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his words.

  Arthur let go of Damon’s hand and turned around to leave. Before he took a step, he looked back at Damon and said, “Before I go, I’ll give you one more piece of information. Even in this tournament, the goal was to beat down the Assembly apprentices. We told our apprentices to try maiming or killing any that we can, especially the top seeds. So you need to be careful if you come across Erik or Nox during the semi-finals or finals. Well then. Let’s talk again later. It was good to finally meet you.”

  Damon watched Arthur weave through the dancing men and exit the Inn. He remained seated and in deep thought, his dark blue eyes cold and dark. He clenched his hands into fists, fresh blood seeping through the bandages wrapped around his left hand.

  So, the goal was to kill from the start? I see. But it’s not just you who has trump cards. You’d better watch out, Erik and Nox. Especially you, Nox.