Reivan ignored the blonde sorcerer staring at the stump where an arm used to be attached, opting to warily glare at the severed limb instead.

'I kinda wanna fight the watcher’s fragment... but we won’t have much time if it’s too strong.'

Not many knew, but there were actually many different kinds of supernaturally binding oaths in the world.

The knightly oath that Aizen used — an eternally binding pact channeled through Soul Armaments. Another one involved a mysterious set of tribal tattoos, which was a method that the empire commandeered from a minority group they devoured during their expansion. And finally, a type of oath that involved summoning a fragment of a higher being and infusing it into someone's body.

Each had their strengths and weaknesses, but the last one was particularly nasty.

While the first method only worked when the recipient was genuinely loyal and the second type simply killed you after going against it, the last one could actually kill you if you just contemplated going against the oath.

Joking thoughts or musings didn’t count, of course.

But when the recipient seriously considered breaking the promise and taking action to do it, they would be treated to the ghastly experience of their hand gradually transforming into a monstrous eye that would melt them with just the power of its gaze.

Luckily, according to Reivan’s informant, the fragment of the watcher had to wait for a month before it could jump the gun. Before that, the oathbreaker actually had to do something to break their promise. They could plan betrayal all they want within that first month.

With this fact in mind, it became clear why there was a month between the time most battlemage aspirants took the oath and the official beginning of their training.

It was to observe them more closely during that time and make sure they didn't tell anyone about what happened. If there were any spies or people who intended to betray the tower from the start, those people would be weeded out before they stepped foot in the tower or touched its secrets.

In Clover Salwyn’s case, he was under a particularly troublesome Silver Cloak’s observation — Dalamar, the Dragon Father. According to Valter, the man had three spirit bonds, and all three of them were of the draconic variety, making them especially potent.

Another fact about the old man was that he was the Gold Cloak’s — the battlemage ranked highest beneath the Sage King’s — grandson.

Apparently, there was some history between Valter and Clover’s watcher, so the guardian knight was quite confident he could distract Dalamar for some time.

‘Better not test how long, though.’

In the end, it was better to get things over with as fast as possible.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Salwyn.” Reivan apologized even though he didn’t really feel all that sorry for what he did.

In any case, the severed limb could just be regrown and he did have his soul armament copy an anesthetic enchantment. The thing about anesthetic gas was bullshit, of course, Reivan just didn't want to explain what soul armaments were and what they did.

“I-I… I assume you have your reasons.” Clover’s breathing grew ragged, as he tried to stem the bleeding stump where his arm used to be.

“I do. Ah, and we should stop the bleeding first.” Reivan took out one of his many healing pills and crushed it in his palm before guiding the countless pieces of powder into Clover’s wound with raw mana. “That should do it. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

While they were talking earlier, Clover’s severed arm had been writhing and squirming like some grotesque worm. The surface of its skin seemed to bubble and boil until the skin evaporated to reveal the crimson flesh underneath.

Clover was far too focused on his stump to notice how the severed arm had started floating in the air a while ago.

‘It should come out now…’

The thing with the otherworldly creature that tried to live rent-free inside Clover’s body, was that it had to be dealt with in a certain way to prevent it from simply transferring to another part of Clover's body. Apparently, there was a story about a battlemage who only heard part of how to break the oath — they kept cutting off their limbs and the watcher's fragment just kept transferring into another part, until he had cut off all their limbs before the watcher ultimately claimed their life.

Reivan took out a piece of paper that his informant gave him more than a year ago. He had, of course, memorized its contents already, but it wouldn’t hurt to refresh himself a little while he still had time.

The document stated that the watcher’s fragment had to take full form, otherwise, it couldn't be destroyed. Which meant preemptively trying to blow it up just before it could fight back wouldn't work.

It was also intelligent and would act in a certain way depending on what happened.

'Pretty darn simple.'

Unlike the curses in fairy tales, the consequence of breaking an oath to the watcher wasn’t instant death.

The watcher wasn’t some god who held the final decision on the life or death of every being in existence. So punishments were actually doled out the old-fashioned way — through violence.

In other words, breaking the oath didn’t kill the oathbreakers.

The thing living inside them would.

For the initial month after an oath, the watcher’s fragments would read their host’s memories and examine their capabilities, molding themselves into something specially designed to kill that particular person — plus a little extra, for insurance.

To get around this fact, one simply had to surprise the watcher with even greater force.

If the oathbreaker was a mortal, simply get an Ascendent to help.

If the oathbreaker was an Ascendent, then simply get a Transcendent to help.

And if the oathbreaker was a Transcendent… Well, then they should just consider writing up their will and testament. Or get numerous Transcendents to help, despite how unrealistic such an endeavor was.

‘Seeing as Clover Salwyn wasn’t even a battlemage and his physical capabilities are only slightly above a normal person, then his fragment shouldn’t be too strong. And it’s only been two weeks, so it definitely can't go above that…’

Still, even though it likely wouldn’t have posed much of a challenge, Reivan wanted to try fighting it. He was just curious, really.

Just as what used to be Clover Salwyn’s arm finished transforming into something incredibly similar to a beholder — minus the dozen or so tentacles and the mouth full of sharp teeth — Reivan took out two runestones especially procured for this occasion.

“First…” Reivan let one of the runestones fall to the floor before crushing it under his boot. A golden light exploded from his feet, surrounding the room in a bubble of radiance.

Contrary to how the bubble seemed to be protecting everything in the chamber from the outside world, the technique locked in the runestone actually served to shield the outside world from whatever was inside.

As an added benefit, it also guarded against scrying and the perception afforded to Ascendants.

Just as the supernatural phenomena stabilized, a mind-numbing screech shook the air. Clover instantly fell to the floor, unable to resist the mental attack while Reivan stared at the watcher’s fragment with interest.

 

 

‘Wow. There’s a lot to unload here…’

For one thing, right in front of him was confirmation that some other Archon other than the World Devouring Serpent was interfering with this world’s affairs. And then Reivan now got a look at his first “Order” aligned being — though whether that was an “elemental" affinity remained up for debate.

‘It wasn’t even allowed a month to grow and yet it already has three hundred might… Interesting.’

Fortunately, it was significantly weaker than Reivan’s expectations so he didn’t even need to waste his second runestone. He dropped it back inside Zouros' stomach as his muscles tensed in preparation.

The watcher’s fragment likely knew it stood no chance against Reivan, so it directed its gaze at its original target — Clover Salwyn. Despite lacking a mouth or any other orifice, the monstrous being still managed to release yet another soul-shaking scream as its giant pupil glowed a fierce red.

Reivan had seen enough movies and read enough books to know what was coming next, so he stood between the monster and its prey, receiving the crimson death ray with a mirror of ice.

The monster’s attack was reflected back at it, but it showed no signs of alarm, absorbing the attack and gathering its energy to release another one.

Reivan didn’t allow it to, closing the distance in an instant and slicing the monster in two with his sword. For good measure, he froze its corpse and summoned Zouros for a moment to eat what remained. He hurriedly urged his serpentine comrade to get back in his soul before carefully observing his surroundings, watching out for any signs of the fragment reviving like some raid boss or something.

When a good minute passed with nothing happening, Reivan smirked in triumph despite being slightly disappointed with how easily the fight ended.

'How disappointing.'

But then again, life wasn't a game — the best kind of fights were the easy kind.

He had spent most of his life, and more, training so he wouldn't be defeated so easily. In RPG terms, he had spent a ridiculous amount of effort grinding his character to the maximum level in the first dungeon, so every dungeon and even the last boss died in one attack.

‘Moving on.’

Reivan recalled his soul armament, having it vanish into nothingness. He then strode toward the fallen sorcerer and gave him a few light slaps. “Wake up, Mr. Salwyn. Sorry about that, but I had to deal with that thing before we could have a meaningful conversation. It wouldn't have been pleasant if it blew up your arm while we were talking.”

“Y-Yes…” Clover’s dazed eyes stared into the ceiling as he responded. “What… What will you have me do?”

“For now? Why don’t we sit down?” Reivan chuckled, and looked around to notice that there wasn’t much of anything in the room — something he arranged for since he expected a bit of a fight to occur here.

To fix this, he urged Zouros to barf out some furniture for them.

With some help from Reivan, Clover managed to climb into a seat, still a bit shaken by the previous experience. “Th-thank you for saving me…”

“Not really. You aren’t any use to me as a corpse, so I merely eliminated the threat.” Reivan shrugged as he plopped down on a seat of his own. “You will have to make do with just one hand until we can safely grow it back.”

Clover’s jaw slackened at his words. “It'll grow back…?”

“Yes. If I couldn’t give you back your arm, I wouldn’t have carelessly cut it off without much preamble.”

“I see…”

“The wound should have closed by now though. So you no longer have to fear for your life, at least.”

“Yes... Th-thank goodness.”

“Indeed.” Reivan nodded and reclined on his chair, giving the sorcerer a once over. He’d actually been observing Clover in secret these past two weeks, but that was with Valter’s aid — coming face to face like this was a different experience. “Mr. Salwyn.”

Clover looked up at him, his nerves obviously taut. “Yes…?”

“From all of my previous orders as well as the events today… I’m sure you now have some ideas as to who I am and what I want from you. I’m curious to know how much you know already, so would you humor me?”

“I…” Clover seemed to take a moment to arrange his thoughts before answering. “I do not know who you are specifically, but I can assume you are an agent from the Aizen kingdom… and you want to replace me with one of your people. To... To infiltrate the tower and gain its secrets.”

Reivan smirked from behind his mask. “What made you think so?”

“I was tasked with passing the exam, so it is clear that gaining the right to enter the tower is paramount…”

“True. Continue.”

Clover nodded, taking a deep breath. “I was specifically ordered to keep my distance from others. And the only reason I can think of — with relation to entering the tower — is to make it easier for whoever is replacing me. After all, the likelihood of the impostor’s discovery increases if there are many people equipped with deep knowledge about my ordinary everyday behavior.”

“Indeed.” Reivan nodded with a smile, though he was sure the man in front of him couldn't notice that. “Why do you think I’m from Aizen though? I could be from the empire or the five principalities of Pentagoria.”

“The empire already has people enrolled at the tower. It was all over the papers a year or two ago. That excludes them.”

“Point taken. Go on.”

“As for those from Pentagoria…” Clover seemed to have trouble finding the words. “I do not think any of the principalities dare to potentially provoke one of Sentorale's big three. Especially one that isn’t hostile. They are far too weak for that, and far too embroiled in conflict among themselves.”

Reivan chuckled. “If I was actually from Pentagoria, I may have taken offense from your words, you know?”

Struck with realization, Clover’s face paled.

“Lucky for you…” Reivan waved off his concern with a shake of his head. “You were right. I am from the kingdom. And that means you are now affiliated with the kingdom whether you want to or not.”

Clover sighed with clear relief. “Yes, boss…”

Reivan crossed his legs and eyed the man’s stump of an arm, making sure the wounds closed correctly. “What do you think of the plan so far? You can speak honestly.”

Clover licked his lips — a mannerism that he seemingly didn’t notice about himself. Reivan knew that the man only did it when he felt anxious or unsure. “I think it is going well, for now…”

“And what about the future?”

“I…” Clover’s gaze lowered. “I was told something by the one who interviewed me at City Hall two weeks ago.”

“Oh? Do tell. We couldn't watch you there because we would have been found out.”

“Apparently, artifacts are faced with some interference around the Spirit Tower’s vicinity. This especially applies to things like illusion artifacts. I just thought you should know, boss…”

Reivan nodded. “I am aware. We weren’t planning on using an artifact in the first place. Don’t you think doing such a thing would be foolish when you consider the type of people that are usually at the tower?”

Illusion artifacts were useful when trying to deceive the mundane, but in the eyes of anyone with even a bit of supernatural perception, you may as well have a glowing hat with the words “I’m a suspicious person” spelled out in capital letters.

Obviously, the illusion artifacts he used whenever he secretly went out to town were never part of his plans to infiltrate the Spirit Tower.

‘I have something much better.’

The sub-skill he unlocked right after the exhibition match against Gwendolyn and two other knights was a bit finicky and it took him months of constant experimentation before he finally found a practical application for it.

But it was perfect for the job at hand.

“Mr. Salwyn, I’d like to explain what is going to happen from now on.” Reivan uncrossed his legs and slammed his palms against his knees, producing a crisp sound that made Clover flinch. “Please pay attention.”

The blonde sorcerer nodded vigorously. “Yes, boss. I’m listening.”

“After I ask you some questions, you will lose consciousness. And when you reawaken, you will find yourself on a boat. A big one. For cargo. It will not be very comfortable, but I'll have to ask you to bear with it.”

Clover seemed to take a moment to process this word before speaking. “Understood…”

“The boat is headed for one of Aizen’s settlements — a place called Worgon Outpost. You may have heard of it.”

“...I have. It's a new city, I believe.”

“Yes, wonderful. Now, after that, a few very intimidating men will handle it from there. Don’t worry, despite how they look, they are my people, so you aren’t in any danger. Just to be sure, pretend you’re a fugitive. Don’t tell them anything about you other than that. Even your name. Come up with a fake one. Anything will do, just don't use anyone famous.”

“Yes, boss.”

“By following their lead, you will soon find yourself smuggled and freed somewhere in the city. This is the point where you just have to walk to somewhere very populated. You will then be approached by someone else, this time, they are also my people, but they won’t be as intimidating. Follow them. You don’t have to be so secretive since they know everything."

"Yes..."

"Are you following all of this so far? I’m not going too fast, am I?”

“N-not at all, boss. I understand everything.”

Reivan nodded. “Very good. Now, by following their orders, you will soon arrive at a city called Lightharbor, which is at the northeastern edge of Aizen’s populated territory. This is where a house has been prepared for you and your mother to quietly live out the rest of your lives, with fabricated but officialized identities. Naturally, you will also have a generous pension that will increase with inflation, paid out monthly, and will last until you die or for fifty years. Whichever comes later.”

Clover clenched his fists. “Mother is…”

“Yes, I didn't forget about that. Your mother is already there. She has already been informed that you are coming. So don’t mess around and get lost somewhere along the way.”

“I-I understand, boss…” Clover bit his lip and seemed to struggle with something until he probably couldn’t restrain himself any longer. “I beg your pardon. I know that you have already given me more than I deserve, but…”

Reivan raised a brow at the unexpected interlude but gestured with his hand for Clover to continue.

“It’s just… There’s this girl back in Sayal, my hometown…”

“A girl…?” Reivan muttered to himself, searching through his thoughts.

Certainly, there was mention of Clover having a lover in the past, but it never actually amounted to anything but a teenage romance — if his operatives’ reports could be trusted. There was still some lingering affection between the two, but apparently, the girl in question was being romantically pursued by someone else.

Clover and the girl named Ellin hadn’t had much of a connection since his mother’s condition worsened.

‘Does he want to take her with him?’

That wouldn’t be such a bad idea, now that Reivan thought about it.

Actually, after laying out his plans for Clover, he was going to punctuate it with a caveat — that even after the deal was done, Reivan would expect Clover to help out on certain occasions.

‘Man, did I do something good lately? Stuff just keeps falling on top of my lap these days!’

It was a good thing, of course.

‘Ah, wait a minute. I might be getting ahead of myself here. I should just make sure before I get all happy.’

“Ellin was her name, I believe. What about her?” Reivan asked with feigned confusion.

Clover rubbed his knuckles in uncertainty. “I was wondering if she could bring them too, boss. Her parents, as well.”

‘So I was right. Wonderful!’

Reivan nodded to himself. “I’m not a big fan of kidnapping, Mr. Salwyn…”

“Ah. No, boss… I’ve, uhm, alluded to the possibility…” Clover gulped. “Of course, I didn’t mention anything specific. I just told them that, maybe, I could bring them all away somewhere… Somewhere better.”

“And they agreed?”

“Yes. Well, Ellin agreed… and her parents just kind of went along with it.”

“I see. Well, if they’re willing, then I don’t see the problem in having them come along.” Reivan cleared his throat. “Keep in mind, though, that initial deal was that I cure your mother and provide a place for you two to live while providing for a decent lifestyle. The agreed-upon pension, while generous for two adults, would be stretched out when providing for five.”

Clover bobbed his head furiously. “Yes, boss. Even though we can’t speak a lick of the kingdom's language, we’ll find a way to provide for ourselves.”

“Now, now… I wasn’t finished.” Reivan smirked. “I have a proposal that will benefit you greatly. If you agree, then I can quintuple the monthly pension I was planning to give you — while the operation to infiltrate the tower persists, of course.”

Licking his lips at the possibility, Clover leaned forward a little, clear excitement in his gaze. “I am willing to do anything, boss.”

“I’m sure. I admire family men like you, Mr. Salwyn.” Reivan chuckled. “But while you have kept your end of the bargain, I feel as if I haven’t done the same. So I will get in contact with you some other time. For now, go and enjoy your time with the people you care about.”

“That’s…” Clover appeared to mull it over for a few moments before he nodded. “As you wish, boss.”

“With all that out of the way, would you kindly tell me what happened during your little meeting inside City Hall? Understandably, we were unable to observe you while you were in there, so we know nothing of what transpired within those scant few minutes.”

“Ah, yes… Well, after I asked the receptionist for directions, I…”

Reivan nodded along as he listened to Clover’s account, asking questions or additional details from time to time — placing particular emphasis on every word that Dalamar Harken uttered and what kind of impressions Clover had of the elder.

Preferably, Reivan would have loved an account from a third party so he could gain some insight into how Clover acted around Dalamar, but not everything would go his way, it seemed.

In the end, Reivan simply decided to stay away from the elder as much as possible when he took Clover’s place.

 

---

 

“Dalamar.”

“Valter.”

Miles away from the capital of the republic, and far up into the sky, two figures faced off with sparks flying between them.

One was a purple-haired man with dark skin, wrapped in a crisp black uniform, looking calm and composed.

While the other was a wizened old sorcerer in flowing purple robes, with swept-back gray hair and a long beard. His wrinkled face was further twisted into a viscous scowl, announcing to anyone watching just how displeased he was at the moment.

“I would tell you how glad I am to see you…” Dalamar sneered. “But of course, I don’t feel that way at all.”

Valter grinned sheepishly. “You still hold a grudge, I see.”

“You killed my brother. And you almost did my father and grandparents in too.” Dalamar spat, his face growing more twisted in malice. If Clover saw him now, the young man would have been very surprised.

“We were at war, Dalamar,” Valter spoke with a neutral tone, not proud, but not ashamed of what he’d done. “You have slain some of my progeny as well.”

“That’s…”

“And if memory serves me right, your offense came before mine.”

Dalamar’s clenched fist squirmed as he contemplated whether to pull out his wand, but he was an old hand now, and quickly regained his composure. “I suppose you are right. If those blasted idiots just apologized for accidentally trespassing into the kingdom’s waters, we wouldn’t have fought at all. I wanted no part in that foolish conflict.”

“Precisely. We are but mere soldiers, Dalamar. We do not kill for pleasure — but for duty. I have not forgotten what you did either, but I do not think I need to forgive you. None of us were at fault.”

“Bah. I have no need for philosophical platitudes at this point in my life. Speak. Why did you approach me? I know you are more than capable of hiding from my and my bonds’ perception. Yet, here you are, blathering about this or that. What’s your game, Valter?”

Valter hummed to himself, speaking much slower than he usually did. “Must there be a game, Dalamar? Can I not simply approach to say hello? We are both some of the oldest men in the continent. Surely, we should exchange a few words whenever our paths cross. Call it a cultural exchange among immortals.”

“Horse. Shit.” Dalamar rolled his eyes. “I know not when you arrived at the capital, nor do I know what your exact purpose here is, but I will not play your games. I took a short trip back to the tower and I must now return to my duties at the capital. As I’m sure you, with your perception, are aware, I am the capital's warden for now.”

“I may have noticed you in City Hall, yes.”

“Perfect. Don’t get in my way, then. I'm a busy man.”

Just as Dalamar swerved around Valter to fly into the city, Valter reappeared, blocking his path.

“What’s the hurry?” Valter smiled — a bad omen, as far as Dalamar was concerned. “Let’s talk a bit more. For old time’s sake.”

The old sorcerer chewed on his lip for a moment before sighing. “You are determined to stand in my way, then?”

“That’s a very loaded question, Dalamar. I’m just saying hello. Perhaps I can tell you about your brother’s final moments?”

“You fucking…!”

Lightning crackled from Dalamar’s eyes and the silhouette of three dragons appeared around him, ready to manifest into the material world at his command.

As if in response, a large black falcon the size of a house circled above them, sharp eyes trained on the conflict.

Valter calmly stared at one particular dragon silhouette in particular. “Your third one still hasn’t Ascended, I see. Must be hard to train, considering how it can only eat scraps left behind by the other two.”

“That’s none of your damned business, knight,” Dalamar snarled. “Are you trying to start a war with your idiocy?”

“We both know that neither of us wants another one of those.”

“Good. You understand. Then fuck off, you old relic.” The elderly sorcerer swung his hand to the side, gesturing to the direction where Aizen lay. “Go back to your so-called paradise.”

“Oh, I will. Once we’ve—” Valter suddenly stopped what he was saying. “On second thought, very well. I know when my presence is unwelcome, so I'll get out of your way. Let’s catch up at another time, perhaps, when you are more receptive.”

“What?”

Before Dalamar’s confusion could be answered, the purple-haired dullard was already gone.

With a frown on his face, Dalamar flew deeper into the city and checked on all the tower aspirants he was meant to oversee — at least, all the ones who were still at the capital.

There were only three of them since a lot of the others already hauled ass over to Vel Ayala, excited to gain entry to the tower.

Of the three remaining: the president’s daughter was still at their mansion’s balcony, studying the same grimoire she was poring over before Dalamar left for a bit; the merchant’s son was still playing around with girls; and Clover Salwyn, the one Dalamar suspected of betrayal the most, was fast asleep after a hard day’s work hunting beasts at the nearby forest.

By all accounts, everything was perfectly fine.

But every bone in his body told him that wasn't the case.

“Something doesn’t feel right…” Dalamar rubbed his chin as he flew into his office in City Hall. He gently landed on his chair and reclined, preparing to meditate. “But I have no idea what.”

Feeling paranoid and confused, Dalamar sighed and closed his eyes, ready to let the night fade away.