Unrepentant

Kell sat by Emma's bedside, his eyes tracing the bandages that wrapped her head and body. Her once vibrant hair was now gone, shaved off during the healing process. The scar tissue that had formed gave her an unflattering appearance, a painful contrast to the lively girl he knew.

His heart felt heavy, burdened by a rage he never knew he could feel. Why would someone do this to her? Emma had harmed no one.

The door then creaked open behind him, and Kell turned to see Arim enter the room. The Guildmaster had undergone a tremendous recovery in just two days. Although, he was still banged up, his hair now showed streaks of grey, and his face bore more wrinkles than before.

Without his cultivation to sustain his usual appearance, time had begun to take its toll on him. Yet, as an Alchemist, Arim had access to potions and salves that kept him from regressing into a complete mortal.

He walked over to Emma's bedside without saying a word. He stood next to Kell, looking down at the unconscious girl.

"Do you have a crush on the young miss?" Arim asked suddenly.

Kell was taken aback, a blush creeping up his neck. But his respect for Arim didn't allow him to lie or stutter. He raised a hand and made a gesture for 'a little.'

Arim chuckled softly. "Once she wakes up, she will not be who she was. Steel your heart, young man, for the true pain will come then."

Kell's eyes widened in shock.

"I have sent word to her Sect," Arim continued. "They will most likely rush here to see the state of their heir and look for retribution."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kell asked, puzzled.

"The emotions of the members of the Heavenly Flame run deep," Arim said grimly. "Once they grow fond of someone, they almost never lose their attachment. Much less their Young Mistress."

Arim sighed, his gaze growing distant as if reminiscing about something from his past. "You should leave Rhysling while you can," he added. "She will be safe, and you should not bear witness to the unreasonable fury of a Sect."

Kell frowned. "Their fury would be justified, would it not?"

"It is justified," Arim agreed, "but their reaction and blame may not be." His face grew dark as he stared into Emma's bandaged face.

"Chaos is inevitable for the foreseeable future," Arim said softly. "If you wish not to add to it, return to your sect and wait until the storm passes if you desire to help."

Kell's irritation flared up slightly. "I don't wish to just sit by the side."

Arim's expression remained stoic. "If you desire a future between yourself and the Young Mistress here," he said firmly, "you should avoid being here regardless of what you think."

Kell clenched his fists but remained silent. He looked back at Emma's unconscious form, feeling torn between staying by her side and heeding Arim's advice.

Arim placed a hand on Kell's shoulder. "Think carefully about your next steps," he said quietly before turning and leaving the room.

Kell watched him go, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The Lord Magistrate sat before a crystal sphere within his private chambers.

The sphere, a Magicraft tool called [Limited Echo], was popular among sects, guilds, and government officials for its ability to facilitate instant long-distance communication in exceptional circumstances.

It was not cheap to operate, requiring a constant stream of energy from both sides, either from the cultivators themselves or Earth Crystals as a substitute.

Sweat dripped off Lachlan's brow as he bowed politely towards the sphere. "Thank you, Minister Cha. You have given me great hope."

The image of a young man with blonde hair appeared within the sphere. His tone was troubled but sincere. "Think nothing of it, Magistrate Lachlan. The Ministry of Finance will do its utmost to help. This is a necessary use of our resources and will hopefully show the people that we are not just out to make their lives more complicated." His joke lightened the tone of their conversation.

Both men concluded their conversation by saying, "Glory to The Empire."

He leaned back in his chair and slumped his shoulders. He rubbed his bald head wearily. "This job never gets easier."

Just then, another incoming call appeared on his [Limited Echo]. He placed his hands onto the sphere and let his energy flow into it before retracting them and interlocking his fingers in front of himself.

Inside the sphere appeared an old woman with white hair pulled back into a tight bun, with half of her face covered by a leathery mask. A large portion of her features above the lips had been mutilated in combat during a hunt for an Imbaskier, a type of deep cavern serpent useful for farming Life Crystals if one could fell them.

This woman was the Town Lord of Sichal, Poliana—technically lower on the bureaucratic scale than Lachlan but his senior in age.

Poliana spoke in a lively tone, skipping formal greetings. "Lachlan, I have interesting news for you."

Lachlan nodded and humbly spoke ''Please enlighten this one.''

"Our Artificer's Guild has sent word that someone claiming to be Artificer Selen has appeared at their reception with quite a convincing story."

Lachlan's expression turned disturbed as he asked sternly for more details. His mind alarmed that perhaps he had been deceived far earlier than he thought.

Poliana cackled at his worried expression but spoke without holding back information. "The person who appeared said they were in closed-door meditation and that they were never in Rhysling. They answered questions about her personal history perfectly and showed the correct skill level that was on record for member Selen."

The Town Lord then added, "She even showed them quite the convincing Bloodmoon Thorn, but we don't have a Sage here to confirm."

Lachlan's expression hardened even more as he continued his talk with Poliana. He needed to consult with Senior Ji—and he needed to do it fast.

Silas strolled through the garden of Castle Rhysling, his thoughts drifting back to the conversation with Zinnia within his room at the inn.

Today should be the trigger. He had instructed her to stay in her room, awaiting a summons from the Magistrate to hopefully discuss the Selen who should appear in Sichal.

He moved among the plants, noting their various uses. Blood Petals grew on one side, their crimson stalks useful for treating active bleeding and restoring lost blood. Across from them, a shrubbery of Spirit Pacifier flourished, known for calming both physical and mental anguish, dulling all sensation. Silas suspected these plants were cultivated more for their aesthetic appeal than their practical applications.

Nyx perched atop a nearby rooftop, watching Silas with evident boredom. The crow considered starting another fire somewhere, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Silas locked eyes with him. Nyx shivered internally, it never ceased to annoy him how Silas could always sense his mischievous intentions.

Silas felt a nagging sensation in his gut—something he wouldn't like was about to happen. He gave Nyx a stern reminder with his eyes not to indulge in his usual pranks. The feeling dissipated instantly, confirming Silas's suspicions that Nyx had been on the verge of causing trouble.

As he turned his attention back to the plants, the voice of Magistrate Lachlan echoed from one of the garden entrances.

"Senior Ji, I must urgently consult with you on a matter most dire."

Silas thought to himself, ''Almost like clockwork''. He masked his thoughts behind a serious expression and nodded at Lachlan.

"Lead the way," he said.

They walked to one of the side rooms of the Castle where they could speak privately. Once inside, Lachlan wasted no time.

"Senior Ji," he began, "did you notice anything off about the Bloodmoon Thorn at the auction before it was stolen?"

Silas shook his head thoughtfully. "No abnormalities aside from some wear and tear due to it being picked by an amateur hand."

"And what is your point?" Silas asked.

Lachlan quickly informed him of his talks with Poliana.

Silas put on a grave expression. "Having two Thorns appear one after another is a coincidence that is almost impossible."

He paused before continuing, "Would you trust me to investigate whether the Selen inside this Castle is the real one? I have the means on me to unveil most disguises."

Lachlan nodded quickly but then hesitated. "The Priest who committed those heinous acts also acted rather strangely when the Thorn auction came up."

Silas sighed, feeling defeated. "Please don't remind me of my failing. I even covered for that Priest's mistakes unwittingly."

Lachlan coughed awkwardly. "I meant no ill will. We were all fooled, you couldn't have known what would happen."

The Magistrate grimly added, "Even if you hadn't spoken up for him, those acts would have likely happened regardless."

Silas nodded solemnly. "I will go see whether our Selen is hiding something."

Lachlan nodded back and wished him good luck as they parted ways.

Zinnia sat in front of a mirror, her eyes locked onto her reflection. Between her fingers, she held a single silver hair, twirling it slowly. As she focused, the hair shifted from silver to her natural red, then to a dull blond, and back to silver. The act seemed almost meditative, a way for her to cultivate her Illusionist skills in a limited capacity.

Her door then opened unceremoniously, snapping her out of her trance. She turned sharply to see Silas closing the door behind him.

"Everything alright?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Silas nodded and tossed a potion vial at her. She caught it instinctively as he pulled out a chair for himself.

"Drink it," he ordered.

She examined the vial suspiciously. "What's in it?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied curtly. "The Magistrate needs to see you get outraged once we speak to him."

Zinnia made an exaggerated gesture of clapping her hands to the sides of her face, raising her voice mockingly high-pitched. "Golly! That sounds like fun!"

Silas's expression remained stony, unamused. She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Understood."

With reluctance, she uncorked the vial and downed its contents. Almost immediately, lesions appeared on her arms, and her skin turned a shade of red reminiscent of lobsters thrown into boiling water.

"What the fuck is this?" she spat, glaring at him.

Silas leaned back casually. "Just some old poisonous herbs mixed together for a nice visual effect. If it did too much damage, I would have healed you."

A vein popped on Zinnia's forehead as anger surged through her. Silas ignored her fury and continued.

"We should wait for about a third of an hour before heading to Lachlan."

She nodded tersely and crossed her arms, staring daggers at him.

Silas smiled and changed the topic. "What seat do you prefer on an Airship?"

Lachlan's mind was a whirlwind of frustration. He didn't think Senior Ji would be this brutally efficient. Zinnia had been yelling at him for an hour, her voice a constant barrage of complaints and accusations.

Well, at least he could be sure she was a friend now.

He sighed deeply, bowing his head towards the huffing and puffing Zinnia. "I apologize for the inconvenience, but the situation was rather unique. I had to take all precautions."

Zinnia stood up abruptly, pointing an accusatory finger at Silas. "This guy was just plain bullying me! Look at this!" She rolled up her sleeves to reveal the lesions on her arms, then went as far as to pull down her shirt, showing off a not small amount of cleavage covered in damaged skin.

Silas remained stoic. "Your innocence can now no longer be questioned. As I have said, I will fix the minor damage caused once I get a chance to brew."

Lachlan nodded in agreement. "I will also provide appropriate compensation along with what you were owed for the stolen Thorn."

Zinnia's anger seemed to subside slightly as she looked at the [Limited Echo] in front of them. Poliana's image flickered into view, privy to their conversation.

The Town Lord laughed lightly. "Selen my dear, you are luckier than most. So many fortunes in misfortunes..."

Zinnia huffed. "I'd much prefer just fortunes. Do you think that person over there has my Thorn?"

Poliana shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe, but now we have the problem of finding out who exactly is over here and whether the Thorn they have is genuine."

Silas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I was planning on going to Sichal anyway. I could come and confirm its authenticity and see if I can figure out what's going on."

Poliana's eyes narrowed slightly as she asked, "And who are you?"

Lachlan quickly placed his hand atop the sphere and sent her a message. As soon as she read it, her demeanor changed instantly.

"Sichal would be honored to have a hero visit it," she said respectfully.

Zinnia chimed in eagerly and crassly, "I also want to come and see just who is the fucker trying to screw me over."

Silas glanced at her with mild amusement. "It would be a change of pace for me to have a traveling companion, but I'm fine with it."

He turned back to Poliana. "Do you have someone over there who could keep the imposter busy while we make the trip?"

Poliana took a moment to think before a sly smile spread across her face. She had just the person in mind—someone who had been giving her headaches for quite some time.

"I believe I can arrange that," she said with an evil shine in her one eye. "Once I inform my associate of the details of this case, I'm quite sure they will be very willing to keep the imposter occupied."

Zinnia and Lachlan exchanged uneasy glances at Poliana's expression.

"Excellent," Silas replied simply.

The journey to Sichal would soon begin.