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B8 - Chapter 54: Who Are We?

  Zeke’s gait was slow. He wandered the streets without direction. His thoughts lingered on the information Cassius had relayed to him.

  The prince ruling this place was named Edras, the third son of the Queen of Rukia. He had been placed in charge of the sanctuary at the start of the war and, as a result, had not taken part in a single battle.

  According to Cassius, nearly all of Edras’s knowledge of how the Ehrenlegion operated came from the "refugees" who had found their way to the sanctuary.

  Refugees...

  Zeke could only shake his head at that term.

  At the beginning of the war, there had not been a single Archmage stationed here, which meant they had all been part of this group. Likewise, most of the people who now called the sanctuary their home were those who had followed these Archmages. This also explained why a large portion of the people here were quite powerful.

  It was quite ironic, really.

  Originally, the sanctuary was meant to serve as a safe haven for the non-combatant family members of important figures like Irisen. Now, it housed some of the strongest combat assets the country had at its disposal.

  That was all the information Cassius had. Though he knew little about the inner workings of this place, Zeke could already infer a great deal from even this much.

  Now, it was time to see what David had uncovered.

  "What did you find?" he asked telepathically.

  David’s voice responded a moment later. "The Titan spoke the truth. There are at least nine Archmages here, and those are only the ones I could confirm."

  Zeke nodded. He had never doubted Rhea’s words in the first place. After all, members of the Ancient Races could not lie. The only way her words could have been false was if she had been deceived as well, but that seemed unlikely.

  "Also, I’ve found something that might be of interest, though I am not quite sure if it is relevant."

  Zeke listened intently.

  "There is a hidden passage. Its entrance is beneath the palace, and I cannot confirm how far it reaches."

  Zeke’s steps paused for a moment. "What does it look like? How large is it?"

  David did not reply at once. Several breaths passed before his voice came again. "It is a narrow passage, too narrow for even two people to walk side by side. But it appears well constructed otherwise. There are enchantments along its length. I cannot decipher their meaning."

  "Show me."

  In the next moment, an image briefly flashed before Zeke’s eyes.

  
[Notice.]

  This Enchantment has two effects: structural reinforcement and mana rejection.

  Zeke nodded. The structural reinforcement was most likely meant to prevent the tunnel from collapsing. It allowed the passage to exist without additional load-bearing structures. Mana rejection, on the other hand, was most often used to obscure a location. While it would not withstand intense scrutiny, it could certainly prevent the tunnel from being discovered right away.

  The corners of Zeke’s mouth curled into a mocking smile. How utterly unsurprising. What David had found was an escape tunnel. It was far too narrow to serve as a getaway for everyone in the sanctuary, but it might be enough to bring a few people already inside the palace to safety.

  "Well done, David. Stay near the tunnel and wait for further instructions."

  "As you command, my lord."

  Zeke changed course. His aimless steps gained purpose as he headed toward the large structure faintly visible in the distance.

  "Irisen," he called out in his mind. "Did you find your sister?"

  It took her a moment to respond, likely because she had never used this form of communication before.

  "I have confirmed her location, but they will not let me enter."

  "Is she inside the palace?"

  "Yes."

  Zeke weighed his options. What he was about to do could be seen as an act of aggression. On the other hand, even in the best case, he would not leave this place on good terms. It didn't take long for him to decide that he didn't care.

  "...Picture your sister in your mind and focus on our mental connection." He instructed.

  "What are you planning?" Irisen asked, unease creeping into her voice.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "Just do it."

  The connection remained still for a moment. Then an image of a young girl appeared in Zeke’s mind. He smiled. The girl looked so much like Irisen that it was impossible to mistake her for anyone else.

  Zeke relayed the image to David. "Find this girl for me."

  Silence followed. Nearly half a minute passed before David responded. "Found her."

  Zeke smiled. He understood all too well why Shadow Mages were so feared. The ability to move freely inside a guarded structure while avoiding detection was truly terrifying.

  "Can you get her out without being seen?"

  "I can," David replied at once.

  "Bring her to where Zelkara is."

  Zeke heard nothing further from David, which was to be expected. He would only respond once the task was complete.

  In the meantime, Zeke had almost reached the palace. The design looked ancient and strongly resembled elven architecture, or more precisely, the way elves grew their dwellings.

  At least, at first glance.

  Unlike the natural integration the elves achieved, this palace seemed to have been carved from a massive tree rather than grown into shape. It was clearly a step down from true elven craftsmanship. If Zeke were being harsh, he might even have called it a cheap imitation of their style.

  That did not mean the palace lacked presence. To anyone who had never seen Yggdrasil, it would appear a marvelous structure.

  Even from a distance, Zeke could already spot Irisen near the entrance, arguing with a middle-aged man. Their exchange was clearly growing heated.

  As he drew closer, Zeke could make out their words.

  "...Are you not being a bit unreasonable, Lady Irisen? Even someone of your standing cannot enter the palace whenever they please."

  "You will not allow me to enter, and you will not bring my sister out. Am I to understand that she is a hostage, then?" Irisen’s voice was cold, but her eyes looked ready to spew fire.

  The steward waved his hands in protest. "Nothing of the sort. But there are protocols for these matters. We cannot hand people over without following proper procedure."

  That was when Zeke reached them. He stepped up beside Irisen, interrupting their conversation.

  "...And who are you... Sir?" the man asked, adding the title a beat late.

  Zeke did not respond. Instead, he studied the person in front of him. The man was slightly chubby and clearly well-fed. His clothes were among the finest Zeke had seen since entering Rukia. His features were soft, while his eyes held a crafty light.

  Despite the strong presence of mana he felt from the man, Zeke’s senses told him that this person would not be able to match even a single member of the Blood Guard in actual combat.

  It was the look of a civilian, someone who had lived far from hardship and bloodshed. With that single glance, Zeke dismissed him.

  Next, he turned to Irisen with a disapproving look. "What are you doing?"

  A flicker of confusion crossed her eyes at the sudden question. "I am trying to find my sister."

  Zeke shook his head, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "Why is everyone like this all of a sudden?" he muttered. "First Cassius, now you too."

  Completely ignoring the man before them, Zeke nodded toward the entrance. "Let’s go."

  As if the steward did not exist, Zeke walked past him toward the palace entrance. Irisen followed a moment later, her steps hesitant at first, then matching his pace.

  "Wait. Please wait. You cannot enter the palace without permission."

  The steward hurried after them and once again stepped in their path. This time, he spread his arms wide, as if planning to block them physically. The two guards flanking the entrance tightened their grips on their ceremonial spears.

  Zeke stopped and finally looked at the steward, his gaze turning sharp.

  "I cannot simply allow you—"

  Before the man could finish, Zeke placed a firm hand on his shoulder. The words died in his throat, as if the strength had been drained from him.

  "Allow me?" Zeke repeated. "I do not recall asking for your permission."

  "I..."

  Zeke raised a finger in a shushing gesture before the man could say another word. "This is your last chance," he said, his voice utterly devoid of levity. "If you insist on blocking my way, I will go through you. Do you understand?"

  With each word, the aura radiating from Zeke intensified. By the end, the full weight of his draconic presence bore down on the man before him. The steward went limp, hanging from Zeke’s arm like a doll with its strings cut.

  His face had turned so pale that even a corpse would have looked healthy beside him. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, as if seized by a deadly chill.

  Zeke released his grip, and the man collapsed to the floor.

  Without sparing him another glance, Zeke stepped over the fallen figure. The guards were so frightened that they could not even meet his eyes, let alone block his path.

  Just like that, Zeke entered the palace without obstruction. Irisen followed a step behind. It was clear she was not pleased with how he had handled the situation.

  "You were too harsh," she said as soon as she caught up.

  Zeke shook his head, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "No. You were too lenient."

  "What if—" she began, but Zeke cut her off.

  "What if what?" He stopped and turned to face her, his glare sharp. "So what if they are offended? So what if they are displeased? So what if they think poorly of us? Is that really what you should be worried about?"

  Irisen’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the outburst. Her reply came haltingly. "I... I was just—"

  "Irisen," he interrupted again. "Who are we?"

  Her eyes showed she did not understand the question.

  Zeke sighed and pointed at her. "You are one of the few Archmages in Rukia who has faced the Legion and survived." Then he pointed at himself. "And I am a Merchant Lord of Tradespire, commanding an enormous force."

  He paused, letting the words sink in.

  "We are not people to be stopped at the gate by a servant."

  Irisen’s expression shifted slightly.

  "Now," he said. "Straighten your shoulders and hold your head high." He continued walking, his posture growing even more domineering. His bearing made it seem as though the entire palace belonged to him alone, and everyone else was merely a guest.

  Just before he vanished around a corner, the rest of his words carried back to Irisen's ears.

  "...It is time we received an explanation for why the prince did not think to greet us at the gate. Do you not agree?"

  ***

  Irisen stood frozen for a moment, her thoughts wavering. Her eyes remained fixed on the direction Zeke had disappeared in.

  Then she took a step forward, and then another. With each step, her spine seemed to straighten, her chin lifting higher.

  A single phrase echoed in her mind.

  ...Who are we?

  Who was she? She was Irisen; Irisen, Flower of the East. She was an Archmage who had endured years imprisoned in darkness. She had shed blood and suffered untold hardships.

  All for her people's sake.

  ...We are not people to be stopped at the gate by a servant.

  Her eyes turned cold as she recalled the way the steward had spoken to her.

  When she caught up with Ezekiel again, no trace of hesitation remained. The only thought left in her mind was why she had not received a hero’s welcome upon arriving at the gate.

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