After that, Kaden used his new skill, Blood Oath, to bind Anthropologist.

The man might be a friend of his master, but he was not Kaden's friend. He didn't know his background, his true strength, nor his true nature. But still he invited him into his organization because, just like he had said…

…the cluster of rocks could be a fine addition to their group. He had knowledge about many things, things that could be useful.

Their group was a budding one. They did have a Seer, but someone who knew the mysteries behind most things was welcomed.

And sometimes you need to take risks and add questionable people. That's what makes an organization unpredictable and dangerous.

The terms of his Blood Oath were simple. Anthropologist didn't have the right to tell anyone about his identity, nor the goals of their organization, nor their location.

Added to that, he also couldn't threaten in any way or shape the organization itself or any member of it.

All of those terms had to be followed, otherwise the consequences would not only be death — death was too merciful — instead it would be the complete control of Anthropologist's very blood and soul.

He would become a bloody slave.

He strangely didn't think much of these terms and accepted them readily. Without, of course, forgetting to add how pessimistic and cynical Kaden could be.

The man himself didn't care.

If he needed to be cynical to preserve what was his, then he would gladly be so.

After finishing the oath, Kaden used the runic teleportation formation Vaela gave him and transported the two of them in front of the dungeon before entering, to present the new member to the other three.

Their reactions were each unique in their own way.

Vaela didn't look at Rocky for more than two seconds, her attention immediately shifted to Kaden. Behind her mask she approached him with a slow grace, her body swaying sinfully, and whispered into his ear,

"I missed you, my dear."

Her voice was silky and sweet like musk. Reditha almost popped out to give Vaela a murderous glare.

But she didn't. Instead she grumbled inside Kaden's mind.

Kaden ignored her complaint, gave Vaela a faint smile and spoke about their new direction.

Alea spoke with enthusiasm to Rocky, her yellow-grey eyes shining. She asked all manner of questions to the new arrival.

Rocky answered readily, seeming to regard his fellow non-human with frank curiosity. He could sense Alea was a beast.

Nasari stood behind Kaden, silent, eyes sharp like blades, focused like a loyal guardian. He was painfully serious and Kaden liked that about him.

After giving them some directives, Kaden stepped back outside, ready to return to Darklore.

He needed to finalize everything for what was about to come. Meaning, he needed to make the Elamin and Warborn like life and death.

One wouldn't exist without the other. And the other wouldn't have any meaning without the existence of the one.

'I will also see Meris. I miss her, Kaden mused quietly.'

It had been a while since he had seen that daring girl. He missed her energy, her enthusiasm, and wondered what she had done all this time.

He chuckled. 'I bet she'll be shocked to see me already Master.'

He was sure that, in their generation, he was the first Master.

He would have been proud. But it had been a while since Kaden stopped comparing himself to people his age…

…that would be too unfair.

Still,

He wanted to see Meris's reaction. But also,

'Aye. I think it's time I beat my sister in a duel. Heheheh, didn't I promise I would knock her out?'

A Warborn always keeps his word.

He laughed and then disappeared from Fokay, returning to Darklore.

…

Darklore — Anvil of Steel.

Scorching hot.

Was it a room? Or a forge?

It was honestly hard to tell. It looked like a meeting room with a big round table forged from processed steel, ringed by throne-like chairs.

The floor was molten steel, splashed and then solidified by fire, soft beneath the foot yet cruelly hard at the same time.

The walls were steel, but not of a single kind: panels of different alloys and hues gave the space a jagged, striking character.

Behind the largest throne hung a fireplace of steel where a white flame flickered sporadically, lending the room a forge-like atmosphere with temperatures that could, in time, melt an Awakened-ranked being.

The scent of burning iron was everywhere, and in the distance the rhythmic impacts of hammer on steel could be heard.

This place was not void of presence.

Five beings sat at the blistering table, divided into two groups.

A group of two—Brain and Ziriel Cerveau—with their usual blue hair and neon eyes, sat with calm ease despite the searing heat, not a bead of sweat on either face.

Brain wore his habitual cold, emotionless expression while Ziriel displayed everything — her emotions given free rein — her multicolored clothes making her look alive, volatile.

Facing them sat three humongous beings of steel and flesh. One, in particular, was colossal, his muscles bulging with white, flaming veins.

White flames licked over his body like frost set ablaze, making him look like a sentinel of living fire under a clouded dark sky.

His chest was bare and raw, his lower body draped in white pants.

He fixed his white, flaming eyes on the two Cerveau, at his sides were two generals — a man and a woman — forged of steel and flesh.

Their hair looked like steel wrapped tight around normal locks, glowing with their own inner fire.

The man glowed with crimson flame, his eyes hiding a seething fury. The woman radiated in pink fire, her form odd but strangely alluring despite the steel woven into her flesh.

She regarded the guests with a neutral expression.

"Hm…" Goremaw's voice rumbled across the room, making the air thicken and the temperature rise.

"…You came fast, humans. Why? Did the Warborns kick your asses?"

Brain gave a stiff smile. "Time is the only currency we do not get back once spent, Goremaw. I would not like to waste it mindlessly."

"Then state your business. We have a war to prepare," Goremaw retorted without tact.

Ziriel parted her mouth to speak but closed it at Brain's intense glare, she swallowed her words and watched.

Brain then fixed his attention on Goremaw. He noticed the white flame that had not been there the last time they met.

'The white flame is a legacy. But from whom?' Brain's thoughts spun, but his face betrayed nothing as his voice stayed steady.

"We will have to attack sooner than expected. We have lost our Seer, and the more we wait, the more unforeseen events will occur."

"How did you lose your eyes, human?"

"It's a personal matter. Nothing you should be concerned with, Goremaw."

Goremaw chuckled with mockery. "Of course it concerns me. I spearhead the Warborn assault. It's my people who will pave the way, and all you humans will do is walk over their dead bodies."

He leaned in, steel hand on the table, eyes flashing cold.

"So, human, this matter concerns me. I ask again…" His white eyes burned, sudden intensity like oil poured into flame, "…how did you lose the one meant to make this easier?"

Brain fell silent. His blue eyes became icier than the room, the temperature seeming to plummet by degrees.

Many violent thoughts flickered through his mind as he regarded Goremaw. His muscles tightened.

Ziriel shifted, her face hardening, eyes bright with austere intensity.

Goremaw's generals adjusted in their seats, making faint clashes of steel.

Tension swelled. The silence felt like the prelude to a calamity.

Then Brain smiled.

"Very well. If you want to know badly, I will tell you, Goremaw."

His smile stretched inhumanly, and the steel beasts shifted nervously, they had never seen such a smile…so inhuman.

"It's all because of the same being who razed your city to the ground, and slaughtered your beasts like rusted scraps, leaving nothing but ashes."

"Our Seer, Vaela, was an agent of the Envoy of Death. And, dear friend, this makes me wonder…if even Vaela was a traitor…" Brain's lifeless gaze drifted to Goremaw's two generals.

"I daresay, perhaps others in this place could be traitors? Use the brain you so prize and think for a moment. The moment you departed, they attacked. The grandmaster you left behind was useless."

He leaned forward, elbow on the steel table, head wrapped and steady.

"Doesn't this make your thoughts churn? Doesn't it make your minds wonder? Doesn't all this reek of betrayals?"

Goremaw's eyes flared with a seething anger.

Brain didn't flinch. He continued, voice cold and surgical.

"That's why, my dear Goremaw, before we talk of war, let us talk of loyalty and transparency."

"Let us root out corruption, the traitors who will backstab us. And for that…"

Brain and Ziriel grinned together.

"…let us start with that grandmaster beast, shall we?"

Goremaw and his generals were stupefied, words failing them.

Only then did they realize…

They had been maneuvered.

But it was far too late to undo it, because Cerveau would not let this pass.

They had, now, the opportunity to pierce the minds of those beasts.

And as the people of Waverith whispered… once a Cerveau finds a way into your mind…

You are already a slave.

—End of Chapter 243—

A/N:

Last week of the month. You know the tradition…

I need more golden tickets so please, dear readers, make it bloody rain.

Thanks for reading!

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