Desperate times, Desperate Measures

The intricate web of my primary node surged and expanded in tandem with my pulsating heart, as I took in deep breaths of the fresh air infused with abnormal amounts of ambient Arcanum. 

"By the Osiris…" Michael's dazed, distant voice echoed in my ears. He was not looking at anything in particular. His eyes were unfocused as he, as well, took in the naturally rich and high-quality ambient Arcanum. 

Turning my attention back to myself, I curled and uncurled my fingers. 

My body felt light. Exceptionally so. It felt like I had lost a few kilograms of weight in the matter of a few seconds. It was liberating. To an uncanny extent. 

A twinging wave pulsated across my chest. There was a slight, prickling sensation emanating from where my heart was. My primary node was expanding, yes. However, it was inside the heart. If it expands, it will more than likely force the heart to do so as well. 

It might as well just tear my heart apart. 

Not exactly panicking, I tried to put an intangible wall around the primary node, forcing it to stop sucking the high-quality Arcanum from the surroundings. As soon as I did, the heightened feeling of ecstasy also washed away, however, I had benefited enough from it. 

Too much selfishness can sometimes result in a person's demise. 

I turned around and looked at Michael who was still in trance, his hands loose on the side and the straps of his bag slipping from his shoulders and slowly skidding down his arms. After a few minutes of blankly staring at him, he opened his eyes. 

"Whooo!" He exclaimed, shaking his head that made his white locks frolic wildly. "That was fucking awesome!" He exclaimed as he balled his hand into a fist and then punched at the open air. The crack of sound barrier breaking crackled as a loud boom filled the air, followed by the echoing sound that bounced off the towering canyon walls right beneath the cliff we were standing on.

As he heard his echo as well, he took a step forward and peered down. "We got teleported to Arizona or something?" He mused with a delighted smirk; way too happy. 

Well, who wouldn't be. Something impossible had just happened to us. After feeding on morsels of Arcanum for centuries, we will finally be able to use our Arcane Arts—potentially—to their full extent. 

Our ancestors would never even have entertained the notion of humans increasing their Arcanum reserves. But it was possible. Not only was it possible, it was occurring to us. 

However, something didn't just sit quite well with me. 

The fact that the primary node could stretch and expand. Adam's scriptures never mentioned something like this. 

One theory could be because Adam and Eve both were born in a world where humans had free access to Arcanum. Their nodes might've matured before they even manifested their first Arcane Art. Maybe that is why they neither never noticed it, nor bothered to write about it. Naturally. 

Because the feeling of primary node expanding was more akin to a shrivelled-up bag of flesh suddenly being filled with water.

"Do Arizona's people have horns?" I asked, pointing down towards the epicentre of the Grand Canyon. Or what it looked like. While the Earth's Grand Canyon had layered textures of deep reds and vibrant oranges to earthy browns and subtle yellows, this one was much duller, consisting mainly of a very light shade of black and some white stains. 

Michael squinted his eyes, focusing on the thin line moving. With enhanced vision one could tell it was a queue of denizens of Eden, chained from their neck to hands and then their feet in some kind of mediaeval shackles. Quite an old method of curbing offenders, but never mind. I guess people of Eden do like to keep old traditions alive. 

The dark elf girl—-Thelasa—was also talking about her "prized" weapon being passed down as family heirloom. Which isn't a predominant tradition on Earth anymore. It might be a thing, but as I said, not "predominant."

While they were wearing long, baggy clothes that shielded even the outline of their appearances—save for the chains that were not only connected to their limbs but also by a long chain to each other, keeping them in line—, the one person leading them at the front, presumably in charge of these prisoners was what made me assume we were not in Arizona. 

Even from this faraway vantage point, the man stood tall and imposing, his figure draped in a posh red cloak that moved in tandem with his slow gait. 

There was no breeze and the sun was shining quite mercilessly on our skin, making my entire body sweat. With our eyes still on the man, I got rid of the overshirt and Michael removed his sweater, tossing it to the side. 

Beneath the man's cloak, he was wearing something that can only be regarded as a general's uniform with layers of chainmail that gleamed dully in the sunlight, encasing his chest and shoulders in a shield of sorts. Most likely to neutralise any incoming projectiles. 

However, the chainmail was bright golden in colour, instead of the usual silver. It was quite strange. Did they not progress at all? Or have they combined modern technology with ancient weapons? 

I felt a little excited, but at the same time, if this was true, this was going to be concerning. Modern weapons on Earth—except maybe tactical nukes—were unable to put a dent into Arcanum users. The Seven Syndicates made sure of the fact that no new weaponry can bypass Arcanum users' defences, despite how foolish it sounded.

The man's legs were clad in sturdy leather greaves with multiple scratches, scuffed and worn from countless marches and skirmishes. But all of these bizarre elements in his attire—by our modern standards—paled in comparison once I looked at his head. 

Or to be more specific. Although we were quite some distance, the pair of grey, curved—groove-like horns sprouted from his temples and extended upwards. 

He suddenly stopped and with a lightning quick speed he snapped his head backwards. 

Tackling my shoulder into Michael, I pulled him to the side as we both fell on the rocky ground. His limbs flailed and just as he was about to jump back to his feet, I held both his hands and pinned him to the ground. 

"You wanna do this right now, eh?" 

"He almost saw us." I hissed through my teeth before laying down on the ground as well. 

"You fucking pussy. You afraid of the first guy you see in this place?" His voice almost echoed as he tried to get up and held me by the scruff of my shirt. 

"If he can sense us looking at him even though we are only using bare minimum to augment our eyes, then yes. It's not fear. It's cautiousness. I am not going to die just because an idiot brute can't think straight."

As I spoke, he scowled down at me, his eyes flickering between different shades before finally returning to the usual bright golden. Flipping over to the side, he laid on the ground, with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish. 

The faint touch of the man's Arcanum was still in the air. He was looking exactly here. However, since the cliff was a bit tilted, he had to go back from where he came to even try and get a peek at us. The terrain was in our favour. But I have to say… his Arcanum sensitivity was extremely high. For an unsuspecting individual to pick on just basic sight augmentation from such a distance was absurd. 

Once I felt the slight movement in Arcanum subside, I looked at Michael. Without giving me anything, he sat back up. Stepping towards the corner of the edge in a crouched position, I got behind him. He looked around for a while as I readied myself for anything. 

The ring on my finger turned soft like clay, ready to be moulded into a weapon in a moment's instance, while at the same time keeping it as close as I could to its original shape, so the performance of my Arcane Art does not give away our exact location. A few moments of gawking around here and there, Michael turned back. 

"They're gone."

A wave of relief washed over me as I got on one knee and opened my bag. To my side, I felt Michael shift and do something while I kept my gaze down. The bag Astrid had prepared for me was filled with basic rations—a few snacks and 4 bottles of water—a change of clothes and a long robe. Disregarding everything else, I took out the robe and stood up.

It was a simple grey robe with a huge hood behind it. Looking over in Michael's direction, I saw him touch and pick a few stones. He was smelling some and some never caught his eye. The ones that did qualify whatever test he was putting them through made their way into his pocket. As he looked in my direction, his nose scrunched up as if I had done something very wrong. 

"I didn't even say something."

"Even a blind guy can see you are trying to judge me and thinking of yourself as some superior specimen."

"You overthink too much." I shrugged. "It's unhealthy. Not to mention extremely unsightly."

He scoffed. "There you go. You just proved what I just said." Shaking his head repeatedly and touching various parts of the ground, he stood up with a disappointed look on his face. "You don't want me to use this now, do ya?" He suddenly asked, gripping his necklace. 

"No idea what that might be." 

I could guess the reason behind it, but what's the point? There were more pressing matters at hand. It's more than likely that that man will come back with more people towards this place once he is done escorting those slaves or servants or prisoners or whatever they were. It would be a logical course of action. Especially from someone who holds both power and a high authoritative position. 

How can I say he has authority? Well, he had a chainmail made of pure gold—or what I think of as gold—instead of the regular ones. More than likely he has a high ranking. Not only that but the insignias hanging from his shirt were also quite the giveaway. We must leave as quickly as possible. 

As if he could hear the gears in my mind turning, Michael stooped down and picked his sweater up before packing it into the bag and taking out his own robe which was the same as mine. "What's that plan?"

Looking to my right, over my shoulder, I closed my bag and raised a brow at him. "You are asking me?"

With a swift motion, Michael circled the robe around his body before draping it over his shoulders, feeling its weight settle comfortably. As he cinched it around his waist, the fabric enveloped him perfectly. Adjusting the folds, he looked up at me and then in a dramatic manner pulled the hood over his head. "You don't want me to go totally balls to the walls and attack their front gates now, do ya?"

There was an animalistic look in his eyes. One that made it very—extremely clear that what he said just now was exactly what he was planning to do. That is, unless I have a better plan to enact. Something that is effective. Our Arcanum reserve was a bit bigger than before, yes, however, it didn't mean we could go head-to-head with people of Eden. Especially not when they practically bathe in Arcanum. 

"I don't exactly have a plan." I replied, being totally honest. It was true. It was my first time here as well. What was I supposed to know? "What we are lacking right now is intel. Once we have enough of it, we can mitigate the risk here. Even if we can't do that and push comes to shove, the shimmer will collapse in 6-7 days anyways. Once that happens, the other Syndicates will arrive as well." 

"How you so certain 'bout the shimmer only lastin' 6 days?" He asked, kicking a stray rock down the cliff.

I stayed silent and followed the rock's fall. It rolled down the precipice and skidded along the rough ending of the downward slope from the edge.

The small area right beneath the cliff was a small congregation of trees. Although it was enough to pass as a small forest.

And beyond that forest was the beginning of the place that we were referring to as Eden's Grand Canyon. 

On the opposite side of the canyon, several slopes stood apart from its rugged layers, creating a rather picturesquely scenic view, if you could ignore the grave nature of our situation. 

Vestiges of a road were still visible around one of them, refusing to let go as the asphalt or tar or whatever it was made of, stuck stubbornly to the rocks.

Here and there, glimpses of the weathered stones peeked through the overgrowth beneath as well.

My daze was overridden by the rock that hit a tree below, causing a slight susurrating sound, followed by the light crunch of the branch breaking. "Because that is the deadline. That's why."

"So, the shimmer would listen to you?" He asked. A bit sarcastically albeit. 

I clicked my tongue against the upper side of my mouth. This was something I experienced when we first arrived in Seoul and the shimmer first started expanding. It is not a part of the 「Merger. 」 

On the contrary, it's something left by the Gods. A mechanic against the merger. I could hear an almost sentient screech from it back in Seoul, every time, right before it expanded. "The shimmer is like… a cushion."

"A cushion?"

"Have you not ever thought about it? What would happen when a world's landmass suddenly increases?" 

"Why bother thinkin' 'bout it? That's so nerdy."

And you sound like a goof!

"The total mass of Earth would also increase. It's likely it will throw the world off orbit. Maybe even into the sun." I explained. Folding his arms he held his chin between his thumb and index finger, he focused. "Tectonic plates shifting, gravity increasing. The merger will result in an increase in the area of land; however, it will flatten a lot of area as well. Earth, as well as Eden."

"Well, this whole lot of orbits' shittery flew over my head, but do any of us actually know how the merger works?" He asked, removing the hood and wiping the beads of sweat from his face. "I mean, what the fuck is even all this shit? Are we in a separate dimension? Mirror dimension? If we are merging, who's merging with who? Frontiers appeared here, so that means our world is in a better state? That's why Earth's landmass is increasing rather than Eden's? Is earth actually stripped away from Eden or was it just created as another world? And if our world is in a better state, does that mean their solar system is dying?" He ruffled his pure white locks and even more frayed hair covered his face. "So confusing. If only we didn't have to worry about this nerdy stuff and could just break some bones." He spoke, smacking his fist into his palm. 

"Too bad we can't do that." I paused. What I was about to say was hard to say, but it was true regardless. "Break their bones, that is." I continued, as a matter-of-factly. 

"Speak for yourself." Michael snorted. "As if I'd lose to a bunch of horny mutts." 

"Horny?"

"Ya know, they got horns and all th— fuck you. Don't talk to me." He looked the other way, cutting the sentence midway. 

…why does everyone around me act like pubescent teenagers?

Ignoring his tantrum? Or whatever he was having, I continued speaking anyways. "The shimmer was fighting back against the expansion of the Frontier's boundary. Stopping it from tearing space-time and making a place for itself." I paused. I had no idea if saying this was necessary. However, it was prudent I worked alongside him to handle matters here. "Astrid's Arcane Art will aid the shimmer."

While it was not entirely true, it was believable enough. Michael had seen how Astrid completely unsealed the entrance and then sealed it again. 

"Hmmmm…" he hummed out loud, exhaling aggressively through his nose. I could almost see a chubby hamster trying to keep up on the wheel inside his head. With an exaggerated puff of his chest, he made a sophisticated face. "I get it. All of it."

I am sure you do.

"Good." I replied despite knowing the truth. "So, we should leave."

"Leave where?" He called out after me as I was picking up my bag. 

"To gather intel. I think I made it quite clear in the start." 

"Oh. Yeah, ok, whatever." He crouched and picked his bag up. "Where you gonna do that?"

"No idea." I shrugged. "But definitely not here. The quicker we leave this place, the better."

Slinging the bags over our shoulders, I took the first step towards the edge of the cliff. Looking up at the sky, it was clear blue without a single cloud in sight. Other than the canyon, the terrain itself looked desert-ish. Evident from how there was a crunchy feeling of sand between my teeth every time I opened my mouth to speak or breathe. 

However, a huge semi-transparent dome-like thing was partly visible all around us. Except the sky of course. 

The sun's shape was rather peculiar… anomalous as well. It wasn't quite round. Scratch "quite," it was not round at all. It was more like a lens. Reminiscent of a mathematical lens formed by the intersection of two disks with the same radius, intersecting in such a way that the centre of each disk lies on the perimeter of the other. A vesica piscis. 

It was eerie. For a moment I thought why hasn't Michael observed this? But the realisation struck me soon after. Even if he did, he would definitely just think of it as some "fancy sun" of Eden. Even though the scriptures have more than once—indirectly—hinted at it being round. Looking down at my palm, a small spark of electricity ran between my fingers. Fiddling with the little spark for a while—which oddly calmed my nerves in face of the coming challenges—I looked to the side, at him. 

"What? It's not like it's that deep."

"I know." I replied. "Please don't awaken the whole world with your landing." 

Rolling his eyes, he replied. "Yeah, yeah, smarty pants. I got it."

With that, both of us let our bodies free fall. 

The blowing wind first whisked the hood and then my hair upwards. But something about our fall was suspicious. It was aggravating in a way that I could not quite put my finger on. Before we knew it, the fall of 30 meters or so was already finished. 

Semi-translucent sparks of a forcefield oscillated rapidly between my feet and the incoming plane where I was about to land as I stopped just a few centimetres above the ground. Michael also controlled his power, although his landing did result in a protrusion that was a blunt, rocky spike amidst the congregation of trees. The noise it made was feeble enough to not attract any unwarranted attention though, making only a dull clatter of the spike breaking and small chunks of it clattering meekly against the trees' trunk. 

"Let's go." I prompted, tightening my hold over the straps of the bag around my shoulder. However, before we could leave, I remembered something. "Wait." I called out for Michael and turned around. Taking out my ring and moulding it into a dagger, I stabbed it right along the surface of the mountain, on which's cliff we were standing on that overlooked the canyon and took a step back. 

"Fuck was that for?" 

"Insurance." I replied, looking over my shoulder. Grinning internally, I remembered Albert's words. 'Lack of terrain,' he said. He was so right. "This is our way out of here if get in trouble."

He looked over my shoulder at the dagger that looked no different than ordinary ones and shrugged. "Might be yours. I am confident in my abilities." He tried to flex his chest arrogantly. 

"I am very sure you are." I replied caustically. "And I am depending on that as well." I spoke as I passed him.

I could not see his expression but I was sure he had his head right into the clouds. Which, from a logical perspective, is not that wrong. He had every right to be arrogant. However, he was missing out on something very vital. 

We are not on Earth anymore. Not only do Earth's laws don't work here, people are not afraid to kill us here. And unlike Earth, even slaves here, that are old enough, might be stronger than us. Even having the ability to kill us. 

"Although, I do hope you come off that divine chariot of yours and stop putting everything in jeopardy."

"Worry about yourself, lil' guy."

We are the same height though.

Turning my head away from him, I pulled the hood back up and continued our journey towards the entrance of the canyon. 

I might be getting too optimistic with our condition though. 

---

The sun had reached its absolute zenith by the time we got anywhere closer to the entrance that led to the canyon. While the whole area, including the small mountain where we were teleported to, could be technically called a part of the canyon, what I meant by the entrance was the huge place that was barred behind huge gates. 

The inner valley of the canyon. 

Up until now, if my perception of distance and time has not already been lost, we have walked- or rather had a brisk jog for 40 kilometres in around 3 hours. It was pretty decent, given the fact both of us were gifted by the blessing of Arcanum. 

The terrain up until now was a mix of different sized rocks and gravel, paving a rather scraggly path ahead that undulated up and down, every now and then. 

A few ruts of various designs––more than likely carriage wheels––formed and spliced together, leading to a single place. On both sides of the partly wet, partly sandy road. On our left side was an avenue of trees that stretched from back where we started and continued to extend towards the entrance. 

From our bird view earlier, there was no vegetation inside the canyon. So perhaps this avenue would end once we reach the entrance. On our right side was a narrow and dried up riverbed. Only a thin streak flowed through it, and sediments and rocks were visible, embedded into the side banks. 

We had our hoods pulled completely low, totally hiding our features. So much that it was hindering our ability to see. However, from what we saw, the other people were doing the same. Going along with the flow proved quite nice seeing how no one got suspicious of us so far, despite so many people crossing by us. 

However, the one thing that was troubling me was…

"We have no fucking horns! You think all those that stopped to look at us are utter fucking idiots? 'Cause I think they are!" As if reading my anxiety, Michael almost burst out but kept his volume down. "Everyone else has horns!"

Aside from the horns, another pressing matter was that we were still not aware of the language that the people of this world––Eden––spoke. 

While it was not a problem for me to convey what I wanted to say, Michael on the other hand was a problem. Well, it's not like there were no implications for me as well, but Michael was in a bigger pickle than me. 

"Hey asshole, you died or something?" His sharp, sandpapery voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"Are a few moments of silence making you miss our little chats already?" I quipped. 

"Totally." His voice was full of lampoon humour. "I am so in love with your self-absorbed analysis of everything and your ability to get on my fucking nerves. What will I do without it!?"

"That was a bit over the top." I admitted as he made a grumbling sound. "Although I do agree. Majority of the people we are passing by have horns."

"Yeah, that's what I just fucking said. Are you seriously going to repeat after me and think you did something?"

I already knew it, but how can someone be so insufferably annoying? It was honestly astonishing how people around him were still alive and had not committed suicide just by being in close proximity of him. A week of Michael is enough to drive me to the precipice of contemplation about ending my life. 

"What do you want me to reply with then?" I shot back. "It's not like anything I say is going to go through that thick cranium of yours. You are too self-centred to work with." I paused as I saw him glaring daggers at me. "If you want something from me, or want me to say something, just ask it directly. Don't talk in circles or rhetorics."

He stopped, his boots digging into the rocky-muddy pavement. "Alright. I will ask away." He spoke through clenched teeth and his Arcanum started to somewhat bloom. "I was going along with your plan because it made sense. Right now, it's senseless venture into an unknown territory where we are going to get captured before we even make it inside."

Removing the hood just enough to let him see my face, I slightly grinned. "Well then…" I paused and got closer to him. "…fuck off you pussy." 

The feeling of a curse rolling out of my tongue was a. I can't even begin to imagine how this foul-mouthed creature curses in every sentence.

For the first time he was totally silent. The bloom of Arcanum dissipated like a balloon deflating after getting poked by a sharp object before totally disappearing. He pulled his hood up for a fraction of an inch. "I will kill you once we get out of here."

"You are welcome to come and try." I replied, taking a step forward. Pausing, I looked back. "But don't expect to come out of it alive."

He only pulled his hood back to cover his face. Taking hurried steps, he walked past me, picking up pace. I did the same and caught up to him. 

As we were progressively getting closer to the entrance, someone came from the opposite direction, walking in the same lane as us. 

It was a short woman. She was wearing a long robe, much like us. However, while ours was of thick quality, practically boiling us inside, her robes were quite light––both in material and colour––and seemed to refract sunlight quite well. 

She was a rather old woman with a huge sack on her back. Long violet hair with multiple streaks of white and silver lined her hair, diluting most of the otherworldly colour in her hair. 

The skin on her whole body, especially around the eyes, was quite loose. Albeit that failed to mask the beautiful features––straight nose, almond-shaped violet eyes and an unblemished skin––that were now marred by the passage of time. 

She had no horns. 

If I had to guess she was no taller than 148 cm. 

As for the age, it works differently for different races. But a rough estimate would put her around 10,000 years. Give or take. 

Or I could be totally wrong. 

Her appearance and overall aura gave out the energy of a very kind grandma who loves to distribute cookies. 

Not like I ever met my own grandma, or she gave me anything of that sort.

But according to Astrid, her grandma used to do this every week where she would make her cookies in a jar. A practice she continued until eventually she died 2 years prior to her parents' death.

The woman was wearing a long robe with some kind of metallic chain connecting the two sides of her robe together. 

She looked up at me and then at Michael. Placing the huge sack on the muddy ground below, she sported a gentle smile before talking out loud. 

"Are you going to 'The Keep of the Ruin'?" She asked, her voice unsettlingly kind and sweet. 

So, it's called "The Keep of the Ruin," huh? I suppose I can stop calling it Eden's Canyon. 

I felt Michael shudder right beside me. Taking half a step in my direction without facing me, he whispered. "Abrahamic?"

The woman looked at me and then at Michael confusingly. 

Abrahamic was not a recognised language. Although it was known as a language that "once existed," multiple religions deemed it to be a divine language in which God communicated with Adam before banishing him from Eden. 

However, in reality, it was the original language of Eden. 

Since it had been a few million years, one would expect even people of Eden to change their language, or have some off-shoots of it or develop some accents. And this was no different. There were a few words I could not completely understand. 

"Seems so." I replied. 

Suddenly, Michael took his hood off. I almost instinctively reached out for him; however, I bit the reflex. The woman doesn't seem to be fazed. If I had reacted that way, she would've thought of this as suspicious. 

"Yes, we are." Michael replied with a smile, crouching down as he supported himself by placing his hands on his knees. "Is this the right path, granny?" His voice—that had usually a cruel, raspy touch to it—was awfully toned down. 

The woman smiled gently and then turned around. "Go straight and then take a sharp left. There you will meet Hagrid, a troll, who will give you a ticket to enter the inner walls." She explained. "Be sure to not pay more than 1 glimmerstone though." She added free advice at the end. "That guy is a major swindler. Especially when it's people who are visiting for the first time."

"1 glimmerstone is a lot." I shot an arrow into the dark. 

She turned towards me with the same kind, gentle smile. "It is, dear." She paused and clenched her chest, coughing a few times before continuing. "But it's hard times. I heard this area is going to face the wrath of Gods." She leaned in as she spoke, as if sharing a secret. 

The warm smile was suddenly replaced by a sad look. "I only came here to see my son off." 

See her son off? What does she mean by that? 

Her voice turned heavy, and she mumbled under her breath. "If only I could replace him." Her hand moved upwards, and she rubbed the side of her nose, smudging a trail of moisture. "Ah, sorry." She looked up and blinked several times, nervously chuckling. 

Although not fully understanding, presumably, Michael placed a hand on her shoulder regardless. "It's fine, granny. Shit happens." 

The old woman looked up to him as if not understanding what he had just said. 

Abrahamic doesn't have slang for 'shit'. He literally just said it in English. 

"Oh-uh, I mean, stuff happens." He patted her shoulder one more time. 

The old woman made a face as if she understood what he was trying to say. And then placing her own hand over Michael's that was resting gently on her shoulder, she squeezed it. "Thank you."

He removed his hand after a nod and picked the sack up from the ground, putting it back on her bag. While comparing his strength using an average human benchmark would be extremely unfair, it was still quite clear that the sack she was carrying was mostly empty and was simply inflated. 

"Uh, excuse me." I called out for her this time. Michael shot me a vicious look, as if even talking to this woman will make him kill me. Disregarding it, I looked down at the woman. "Is the price negotiable? I mean, can we bargain with this Hagrid fellow?"

She tilted a bit to the side from the weight of her sack as Michael helped it up. "I am afraid not, since the fee collection is done directly by the Imperial Commonwealth's Crown Taxation Authority. Those Imperial bastards have no regard for the poor." She paused and a bitter smile formed on her face. "Well, this place isn't meant for unnecessary people anyways." 

I was running out of luck however; I needed to collect the most I could from her. "It must've cost you a lot."

She looked down and patted the bulge that stuck out from the inside of her robe. "4 glimmerstones were my life savings. Used 1 to get in there."

So, she has a few more. 

"Alright, thanks." I bowed a little. 

"Ah, no need for your lordship to bow." She spoke, slightly panicking. 

I tilted my head and Michael too had a confused look on his face. 

"I can tell by how refined you are." She spoke as if she knew the secrets of the universe. "And no way someone as good looking as you both would be in the boonies like this. And besides…" She paused for a while before speaking again. "Only the Cromwells have white hair and such piercing golden eyes."

Michael flinched beside her. 

I bent my back a little. "You are a wise woman. This here is the heir of the Cromwells. And I am his lordship's humble caretaker."

She suddenly glued herself to me, holding on to my arms for dear life. "Please, my lord, you have to convince the young lord to spare my son."

Woah, woah. Stimulation overload. What on Earth—I mean, Eden is going on?

Grabbing her by the arms and supporting her weight, I helped her on her feet. However, she refused to let go of me or my robes, breaking into a relentless fit of sobs. 

"My— my son. I was sick and—" she paused midway, "—he's so young. You can take me instead! He only robbed the Baron because he was worried about me. If anyone should be executed for this crime, it's me, not him."

Michael walked over to us and patted her back. 

"Stand." He spoke. 

He's already in character. 

As she did, wiping her tear and sweat caked face with the sleeve of her robe, he continued. "What's the name of your son?"

"Ed. Just Ed." She spoke between sniffles. "Please, your lordship, you have to leave him. I won't be able to continue living without him. He's all I have."

Michael nodded. "I will try to break Ed out of there."

"B-Break out?"

This idiot. 

"I mean, release him." 

She casted a rather sceptical look at Michael, which made me a little uneasy.

After a while of back-and-forth and some reassurance, she decided it was time to leave. Although the sadness of losing her son still was there, she seemed to be better than a while before. 

But this doesn't make sense. Her son is more than likely dead. The way the prisoners were limping with that horned man, I am pretty sure a lot of them died just from the journey. 

I tried to spread my Arcanum and the primary node suddenly fluttered as the purer form of Arcanum coursed through it. Trying to reach for a tether, I grasped it, delicately. 

I am not very fond of this application of our Arcane Arts; however, desperate times call for desperate measures. As I reached out for it, my consciousness was pulled somewhere for a brief moment before returning back to me. 

By then, she had already bid her farewells to Michael and then nodded her head towards me. As she started walking, I suddenly called out to her. 

"The path out is that way." I pointed in the direction she was walking previously. 

"Hoho, I might be going senile." She let out a light-hearted, girlish giggle before wobbling and turning around. Michael also let out a warm chuckle, looking at her with a rather soft gaze from behind the snow-white strands. 

I breathed in shakily.

Morphing the chain that connected the two parted sides of her robe into a makeshift blade, I caught her from behind. The blade manifested as an extension of my four fingers combining into one as I slit her throat deep enough that it cut her windpipe cleanly and placed my hand on her mouth to muffle out any sound. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw Michael standing in a daze, looking at me with wide eyes. 

Her body flailed in my grasp as I kept her in place. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

As the glittery, silverish blood flowed from her neck, Michael ran over to me. 

"Fucking dickhead! Why did you kill her?" He barked and at the same time swung at me. 

Throwing her still warm and twitching body to the side, I avoided his punch. 

"Don't you think it's a bit too suspicious? She suddenly comes here and gives us information."

"Just because the old woman is from Eden doesn't mean she deserved to die." 

Arcanum flickered to life around his fists as he swung at me again. I dodged; however, the aftershock of his punch blew a cut right underneath my eye. A few drops of blood flew in front of my eyes, as if suspended in air. 

Just as he was about to drive a knee into my mid-section, I coated my own hand with some Arcanum and swatted it to the side before turning around and landing the back side of my fist into his face.

Reacting in a split second, he brought his arm up and blocked it.

Just a mere block from him felt like I had driven my fist into a thick block of tungsten. His bone and muscle density were unearthly!

Rotating myself, I swung my leg at his face, however it was slow enough for him to dodge as he jumped back.

"It's impossible she has a son that is about to be executed." I raised my voice, removing the hood from my face. 

He straightened his back. "You'll blabber anything to justify yourself, you shithead."

"How is an old woman allowed inside a military encampment?" I blurted out, my own frustration reaching a boiling point. "This doesn't make sense. If stealing from a Baron warrants a punishment in a ruined place such as this, most likely hundreds of kilometres away from the mainland, why would a civilian be allowed inside the walls? How did she reach here before execution? There are so many holes in her story."

He stopped, the veil of Arcanum around him still dense. "What's your point?"

"She was lying to us." I replied. "People who walked past us, almost everyone had horns. And the ones we thought didn't have it were wearing huge hoods over their heads. We have no way of telling if there is any person of another race here or not."

He pointed at the woman. "You have lost your mind. Don't you see there are no horns on her? Even if that's the case, why did you kill an old woman?!"

Walking over to the woman, I turned her around. The image of blood caked face garbled, like a static of some sorts was covering it and then concentrated around her temples before dissipating, revealing two extremely small stubs. "You were saying?"

"How do I know it's not your doing?"

"That's nonsense. Why would I even do it? What's any benefit in doing so? Whatever it was, she was not there to meet her son at least."

Michael grinded his teeth furiously. "That didn't justify killing her."

"Look around you. It's a military encampment. Look at the dome around us. They are going to attack us. And more than likely she is a part of them as well. If anything, we have one less Edener to worry about."

"She was a sickly old woman." He shook his head. Placing his hands on his waist, he walked back and forth. "This is why I hate you. You have no common sense for empathy. You can't go on a brainless slaughter."

"I can." I replied, without missing a beat. "And I will. Just like how they will do it as well." Staring into his eyes, I spoke again. "You will understand it when the same people you leave alive out of mercy take, rape and kill your little siblings."

"Don't bring my siblings into it."

"It's the same for everyone. Get your mind in the right zone. Or just return to where we came from. I am not forcing you into anything." 

Saying that, I turned around and crouched down. Searching for the woman's body, I took out the bulge in her pocket. It was a small pouch. Upon opening it, I found around 10 glimmerstones. They were sapphire-coloured coins with a platinum-coloured flame in the middle of it. It was semi-see-through and weighed much less than a krone coin. 

She was lying after all. 

Slipping them into my pocket, I searched for the device she used to hide her horns. She wasn't carrying it on her body; hence, I started searching it inside her sack. 

While I was doing, Michael stooped down and closed her wide eyes and then picked her up in a princess carry. 

"What are you doing?"

"She was well past her years. She at least deserves a burial." He replied, his voice sombre. 

"Just don't take too long."

"Fuck off."

Saying that, he went away. 

Sighing, I turned my attention back to the task at hand. The sack was mostly empty save for a few rations consisting of water and some food I couldn't make sense of. Picking them up regardless and slipping the few other coins that were inside a food can of sorts into my pocket, I picked the sack and hid it behind a tree. 

After around 10 minutes, Michael was back, the sleeves of his robe dirty with foliage of mud-caked withered leaves. 

He casted only one sidelong glance at me before pulling his hood up and then stood against the tree. Once I had gathered enough material, I hid my bag into one of the top branches of the trees that formed the avenue to the right side and only took necessary things with me. Michael did the same. 

Changing the knife's shape back to the chain it was before, I was about to place it inside my pocket. However, right before I placed it inside, I felt a small bulge on it. 

Bringing it close to my eyes, I saw a red jewel on top of it. As I slightly pressed it, it moved a little inwards and I felt it tamper with my Arcanum. However, nothing happened. 

What was that?

I pressed it once more, but nothing happened again. 

Could it be… 

The woman's stub like horns only appeared after she completely stopped moving. 

I pressed it again and this time visualised it. The appearance I wanted. 

A stabbing sensation coursed through my temple. Michael, who was standing with an indifferent expression and only stealing a few glances until now suddenly lost his composure and turned his head towards me. 

As I brought my hand upwards, I felt a small groove. Extending from my temples and having a small curve at the end. Like the horn of a mountain goat. 

An unknowing smile crept up to my face. "Looks like we got our way inside."

I wasn't expecting it to be this convenient. And it has just been a few hours since we entered Eden as well. 

But this worries me as well. 

Things are going too smoothly. 

Holding the chain out to Michael, I spoke. "You take it."

"No."

"The woman said Cromwells, who are presumably the commanding family of this place, have white hair and yellow eyes. Between you and me, only one of us has those features."

"And what about you?" 

Although he asked a question that would make it look like he was worried, there was obvious venom and spite in it. He has an oddly high sense of righteousness for someone as boisterous as him. 

"Same ploy as before. You be the Cromwell, I will be your caretaker, or servant, or whatever. Doesn't really matter to me."

He yanked the chain from my grasp before attaching it to his robe in the same way as the woman did. 

"That is not a very good idea, I must say." I spoke my thoughts out loud but dismissed them after a sigh. "But if an alien old woman meant so much to you, then you can do it, I guess."

"I wasn't asking for permission." 

Saying that, he turned around aggressively, his robe fluttering dramatically in the air and started walking towards the place where the woman told us we would have to pay Hagrid, who was a troll. 

Trolls have not been mentioned a lot of times in Adam's diaries. They were one of the neutral races during the Holocaust of the humans. 

Luck has been on our side so far. Who knew we would get the answer to our biggest problem so easily. 

Although, something has been eating away at me. And the worst part is that I have no idea what it is. It's like an itch you can't quite scratch. 

Was it related to Astrid? Or the weird shape of the sun? Or the fact that the change in gravity in Eden is kind of throwing my Arcane Arts calculations off balance? Or was it something else? I had no way to tell. 

And we were so close to the entrance of this "Keep of Ruin," that I had no time to stop and think. 

I had to improvise from here on out. 

As a pair of onyx horns curved outward from the sides of his head like twisted obsidian. The bulky protrusions started from just above his temples, the horns coiling sinuously, and the pitch-black surface marred by subtle, jagged ridges that traced the spiral ascent. 

Both horns were tapered to a pointed tip, sharp and bleak. The faintest hint of a crimson hue danced along the edges of the horns. 

Horns that plausibly looked exactly like the ones the man had that was leading the caravan of prisoners. 

Pulling his hood over the horns, he puffed his chest out and started walking with a sense of authority. 

Leave it to Michael to act all privileged. 

After an hour of walking straight and another 30 minutes of walking following the left turn, we finally arrived at the small establishment. An establishment with something written over its board. In a language we couldn't understand. 

I took a deep breath. 

Things will only start getting messier from here.