Mary tried to chase after Garron, desperately hoping that somehow she could still convince him to change his mind and spare Riven, as she followed him out of the inn and into the busy streets of Stoneville despite Stacy repeatedly calling out for her to stop.
However, after only a short distance, Garron suddenly came to a halt before slowly turning around with Riven’s broken body still hanging across his shoulder, as the furious look in his eyes immediately caused Mary to freeze where she stood.
He never uttered a single word, however, the expression on his face alone was enough to make Mary understand that if she took even one more step toward him, she would become the next person receiving punishment.
Unable to gather the courage to move any closer, Mary could only remain standing where she was, as tears quietly rolled down her cheeks while both her hands gradually tightened into trembling fists.
Meanwhile, Riven could barely distinguish anything happening around him anymore, as the repeated blows to his spine had left his vision so blurred that Mary appeared little more than a hazy silhouette standing somewhere in the distance.
Even then, he still recognized who she was.
’Don’t worry...’
He wanted to tell her.
’I’ll find you again.’
His lips moved ever so slightly as he desperately tried to force the words out, however, instead of his voice, only a mouthful of blood spilled from between his lips before slowly running down Garron’s back and dripping onto the road beneath them, leaving behind a crimson trail with every step the instructor took.
"DON’T DIE! FIND A WAY TO SURVIVE, RIVEN!"
Mary finally shouted with every ounce of strength she possessed, as although she no longer dared chase after Garron, she refused to let Riven disappear without hearing those final words.
Hearing her voice, Riven somehow found enough strength to slowly lift his head one final time before looking back toward the distant figure standing in the middle of the street.
A faint smile slowly appeared across his battered face, as comfort quietly spread through his heart upon realizing that someone in this world genuinely cared whether he lived or died.
However, before he could hold onto that feeling any longer, the last of his strength finally abandoned him, as his vision went completely dark before his head fell limply against Garron’s shoulder and consciousness quietly slipped away.
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Garron continued walking through the crowded streets of Stoneville with Riven’s unconscious body slung across his shoulder, as the occasional passerby merely spared the pair a brief glance before continuing on with their own business, seemingly unbothered by the sight of a battered child being carried through the town.
Within Stoneville, scenes like this were hardly unusual, as mercenaries regularly dragged wounded companions through the streets, slave merchants transported newly purchased stock from one building to another, while drunken adventurers were often carried home after losing themselves inside taverns the previous night.
’It’s a shame I had to beat the boy up.’
Garron thought, as he glanced briefly toward the unconscious Riven resting across his shoulder.
’I don’t enjoy unnecessary violence, and if things had gone according to plan, I would’ve much rather continued training him than breaking half the bones in his body.’
He sighed quietly before continuing his walk.
’However, since the man specifically asked for the boy to be delivered unconscious, I simply took advantage of the opportunity. I disciplined the entire group while knocking him out at the same time, killing two birds with one stone.’
He thought, as although the punishment had appeared excessive to every child watching inside the inn...
For Garron, it had simply been the most practical solution available.
The others now feared him more than ever before, ensuring they would think twice before disobeying another direct order, while Riven himself had conveniently been rendered unconscious exactly as requested.
It was efficient. Nothing more. Nothing less.
As for abandoning a talent of Riven’s calibre... that certainly wasn’t something Garron would ordinarily choose to do.
He had spent far too many years travelling from village to village gathering promising children for the Empire to casually throw away an investment like Riven.
However, this situation was different.
Much different.
Hidden beneath Stoneville existed one of the Valdrak Empire’s most closely guarded research facilities, as although only a handful of Imperial recruiters even knew of its existence, the work being carried out there was considered important enough that the Empire had quietly financed it for decades.
At the center of that facility worked an Imperial Anatomist.
Unlike ordinary healers who devoted their lives toward preserving life, Anatomists sought to understand the mysteries hidden within flesh, blood, bone, and Aether itself, as many of the techniques they employed had long since been outlawed throughout most civilized kingdoms.
The Empire, however, cared little for such moral objections, as for them, results mattered over all else.
Which was why, for nearly thirty years, the Anatomist stationed beneath Stoneville had dedicated his life toward a single objective: the restoration of the ancient Divine Bloodlines.
According to records preserved within the Imperial Archives, the descendants of the ancient gods had once possessed abilities so powerful that merely reaching adulthood granted them extraordinary affinity toward particular forms of Aether.
However, countless generations of intermarriage had gradually diluted those bloodlines until only tiny traces remained scattered amongst noble families across the continent.
However, if those bloodlines could somehow be restored...
The Empire believed it might finally possess the means to create soldiers capable of overwhelming entire battlefields through inherited talent alone.
However, unfortunately for the Imperial Anatomist, suitable research subjects were almost impossible to acquire.
The overwhelming majority of individuals carrying even faint traces of Divine Bloodlines belonged to influential noble houses whose disappearances would immediately attract unwanted attention.
Whereas finding them amongst commoners was like finding needle in a hatstack, which was why, imperial recruiters working outside the Empire were made aware of this program, just so that on the off chance they stumbled upon someone with a trace bloodline, they could turn them in here at Stoneville.
Which was precisely why Garron had visited the Imperial Anatomist earlier that afternoon.
Initially, he had merely intended to inquire whether a child possessing unusually vivid green eyes alongside an inexplicable affinity for Storm Aether held any value whatsoever.
After all, he had seen Riven’s power with his own eyes.
However, the moment the Anatomist heard Garron’s account, the old man’s expression immediately changed.
He questioned Garron for nearly an hour, asking about every unusual detail surrounding Riven’s growth, appearance, behaviour, and talent before finally leaning back in his chair with unmistakable excitement shining inside his eyes.
As only then did he calmly name his price....
Three gold coins.
The words had echoed inside Garron’s mind for several long moments because even he had initially believed he had misheard.
Had Riven eventually reached the Imperial Academy and distinguished himself as one of the finest recruits Garron had ever delivered, the Empire would’ve rewarded him with no more than one gold coin and fifty silver.
That alone was already considered an extraordinary payment.
Yet the Anatomist had immediately doubled that amount without negotiating for even a single moment.
At that point, the decision had already been made.
Riven was no longer Garron’s most promising recruit.
He had become the most profitable investment Garron had ever possessed, as Garron decided to sell him to the Anatomist without a second thought.
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By the time Garron reached his destination, it was already dark.
His destination was an otherwise unremarkable building that appeared no different from any of the dozens of small potion houses scattered throughout Stoneville, as a faded wooden sign hung above its entrance advertising healing draughts, antidotes, and common Aether potions to passing customers, giving little indication that anything unusual lay hidden within.
Without drawing the slightest bit of attention, Garron carried Riven through the front entrance before giving a subtle nod toward the elderly woman tending the counter, as she quietly acknowledged him before disappearing into the back room without asking a single question.
A few moments later, a section of the stone wall silently slid aside, revealing a narrow staircase leading deep beneath the shop, as Garron calmly descended without hesitation while the hidden entrance slowly sealed shut behind him once again.
The deeper he walked, the colder the air became, as the pleasant fragrance of herbs lingering throughout the potion shop gradually disappeared beneath the overpowering scent of preserving fluids, alchemical reagents, and old blood that seemed to have soaked permanently into the underground stone.
Waiting at the bottom of the staircase stood an elderly man whose appearance was unsettling enough that even Garron found himself instinctively looking twice whenever they met, as despite being well into his seventies, the old man’s back remained perfectly straight while a permanent smile rested upon his paper-thin lips, revealing teeth stained a sickly yellow from decades spent inhaling alchemical fumes.
The few strands of white hair still clinging stubbornly behind his ears hung limply over a cracked leather apron covered in countless faded stains, while one of his eyes had long since turned completely white with age, leaving only the other to shine with an unnaturally bright amber glow that seemed far too alive for a man of his years.
"Well..."
The old man said warmly, as he slowly rubbed his scarred hands together while his amber eye settled upon the unconscious child resting across Garron’s shoulder.
"So you’ve brought him after all."
"I did."
Garron replied calmly, as he stepped forward before carefully lowering Riven onto a polished stone table positioned in the very center of the underground laboratory.
"You wanted him unconscious."
"And you delivered exactly what I asked for."
The old man replied with obvious satisfaction, as he approached the table with slow, deliberate steps before gently placing two fingers beneath Riven’s chin and lifting one eyelid open.
For several long moments, he said nothing.
His amber eye remained completely fixed upon Riven’s vivid green iris, while the smile upon his face gradually widened until it became almost impossible to distinguish whether the expression belonged to a kindly old healer or something far more disturbing.
Eventually, he allowed the eyelid to close before placing both palms against Riven’s battered body, as his fingers slowly traced the young boy’s shoulders, chest, arms, and abdomen without the slightest concern for the obvious bruises or dislocations covering him.
"Oh yes..."
He whispered almost reverently.
"These muscles..."
His fingers continued moving across Riven’s frame with extraordinary care.
"They’re exquisite."
He paused briefly before pressing lightly against Riven’s forearm, feeling the density of the muscle beneath the skin as though confirming something he had long suspected.
"To develop this physique before even reaching Ember Rank... remarkable."
The old man murmured, as excitement gradually began creeping into his voice.
He gently lifted Riven’s eyelid one final time before leaning closer until his amber eye stood only inches away from the unconscious boy’s face.
"And these eyes..."
He whispered.
"That shade of green..."
For the first time since Garron had entered the laboratory, the old man’s calm composure completely disappeared.
His breathing noticeably quickened.
His fingers trembled ever so slightly.
"There can be no doubt."
He declared, as his smile slowly stretched wider than ever before while he looked back toward Garron with unmistakable excitement burning inside his remaining eye.
"You’ve brought me a descendant of Surthur..."
He said softly, almost as though afraid the words themselves might frighten the sleeping boy.
"A descendant of Surthur, the Storm God."
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End Of Volume 1
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