B4 - Chapter 6: The Den

Seth turned away from the empty alley and merged back into the bustling streets to make his way toward the Primalist's Den once more.

'That person looked like someone who wants your head,' Nightmare said through Link.

'I can come out and scare them away next time!' Colossus offered, snapping his claws inside his Pocket Realm.

Seth felt some exasperation through the bond.

He could tell Nightmare had just rolled his eyes. The direwolf clearly found the giant scorpion's idea thoroughly laughable. Seth ignored it all and slipped past a group of adventurers spilling out of a tavern. He seized the occasion to cast a final glance over his shoulder.

No ash-gray cloak anywhere in sight. The mysterious pursuer had disappeared.

'Why do we have to wait before entering Shenlong's Tower?' Nightmare asked.

'Because I don't want to enter twice,' Seth answered. 'The second time I would have to pay an absurd entrance fee since there wouldn't be the first-time discount.' He paused as he maneuvered around a cart. 'Lumi can heal our injuries between floors, so I want to climb as high as we can on our first attempt. And that means filling my last Iron-tier Seed slot beforehand.'

'That old Alchemist said Seeds are extremely rare,' Nightmare retorted. 'We only got so many because of the war.'

'I'll give myself a few weeks,' Seth decided, eyes remaining on the crowded street ahead. 'If I haven't found a suitable Seed by then, we'll climb the tower anyway. That should also give me enough time to ask Marcus whether there's a way to conceal my name on the Legacy rankings... or at least prepare myself for the attention that it will bring.'

Nightmare let out a thoughtful hum. 'You should stop thinking about that. Vorath told you to stop hiding,' the direwolf answered at last. 'Besides, if you wait too long, I might reach Silver before your first attempt. And I doubt Shenlong will let a Silver-tier beast fight alongside someone competing as an Iron.'

Seth's brow lifted. 'And what makes you think you'll break through your Tier cap that quickly?'

'I've already proven progress is easy for me,' Nightmare raised his muzzle inside his den. 'I'm the fastest.'

'Pretty sure Colossus still broke through faster than you.'

'Yes, I did!' the scorpion chimed in.

'Whatever,' Nightmare grumbled back, his wounded pride seeping through their bond. 'I still think we shouldn't wait to give that tower a climb. You might even get your last Seed out of it.'

Seth sidestepped a pair of children running through the street.

The direwolf wasn't wrong. From what they had learned, anyone who managed to place among the top five of either the Past Year or All-Time rankings received a gift from Shenlong.

During their month of hunting, Kaelen had mentioned hearing stories about some challengers even being rewarded with Seeds. According to one story, someone had even received a Legacy decades ago.

Not that such a reward would be particularly useful to Seth.

Still, Nightmare was right: the possibility of obtaining a Seed gave him a reason to enter the tower.

By the time he had reached the district surrounding the Adventurers Guild, parchment posters had been plastered across several stone walls, each bearing the same message in bold lettering.

NEXT BLACK LIONS AUCTION — NEXT SATURDAY

Seth continued down the street, only to slow a few minutes later. He recognized the small open plaza on his left.

It was the same place he and Marcus had passed by months ago, where Seeds had been auctioned. Several men were moving wooden crates from a wagon into the nearby buildings, stacking them just beyond the entrance. A black lion's head had been branded onto the side of every crate.

Seth's eyes narrowed.

There were fewer people than there had been during the auction, but the place was far from empty. Several well-dressed men and women stood off to one side, their groomed appearances matching those of the merchants presenting goods in front of them.

Farther inside, the clientele was noticeably different.

Seth caught sight of a woman standing beside another stack of crates. Her clothes were decent, but worn, and strands of dark hair had escaped the knot behind her head.

She was speaking to two men. Even from a distance, Seth could see the desperation on her face. One of the men opened a small pouch and showed her something inside. Coins, probably.

The woman hesitated, then her shoulders sagged. The two men glanced at each other and smiled.

Seth couldn't hear their conversation from the street, nor did he know exactly what the woman was selling, but the entire exchange felt wrong. The men looked like people who knew they held all the advantage over someone with nowhere else to turn.

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'I don't like those people,' Colossus said through Link.

Seth kept walking. 'Neither do I.'

He had seen enough people like them before. Lucius had been one. So had many of the bandits Seth had encountered while living in Sunatown.

People who preyed on desperation, waiting until someone was trapped by their circumstances, then offered them a way out at a tremendous price.

Seth's jaw tightened.

Whatever business the Black Lionheads conducted beyond their auctions, he was better off keeping his nose out of it. At least for now.

He had just arrived in Asethka; he knew almost nothing about the city's factions, and these people belonged to the organization of a Pillar. Getting involved because something looked bad would be foolish.

And Seth knew himself well enough to recognize that if he stayed long enough to learn what was happening, there was a very good chance he would end up getting involved.

So, as he continued threading his way through the streets, Seth did his best to forget about the Black Lions altogether.

The deeper he ventured into the district, the more adventurers began to dominate the crowds around him. Soon, the Primalist's Den emerged from among the surrounding buildings.

The four-story structure towered over the nearby street, its wooden doors thrown wide by the constant stream of adventurers passing through them.

Even from outside, Seth could hear the roar of hundreds of voices within. Not wanting to wait any longer, he headed for the entrance and stepped inside.

The familiar scent of ale, sweat, and beast blood flooded his nose. He swept his gaze across the hall. Hector's spot behind the long wooden counter at the far end was empty, so Seth walked toward the staircase leading to the contract boards on the second floor instead.

A handful of mercenaries glanced at him as he crossed the room. Most of them returned to their drinks, though one gaze lingered.

Seth turned his head.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a beard at one of the tables was staring at him. Two axes were strapped across his back, their blades chipped and notched from use.

A cold prickle brushed against Seth's Well. The silver ring around his finger reacted right away, smothering the aether before it could creep in.

The man scowled.

He gripped the table and pushed himself up. His boots thudded against the floorboards as he strode forward.

Seth narrowed his eyes and cast Intermediate Identify.

"Quite daring of you to come here," Garrat rumbled, his deep voice silencing the surrounding noise.

He stopped in front of Seth and looked down—the man was half a foot taller than him.

Seth tilted his head back to meet the giant's gaze, something he rarely had to do. "I don't see what's so daring about walking in to grab a beast-hunting contract."

Garrat's lips twisted into a smirk. "You genuinely think Draerians are welcome here?"

Inside their respective teardrops, Nightmare and Colossus stirred.

Seth felt their intent surge through Link, both beasts ready to emerge at the slightest sign of danger. 'Wait,' he said through their bond.

Seth's gaze swept around the room.

Half a dozen adventurers had risen to their feet, hands already on the handles of their weapons. Each wore the same emblem as Garrat on their pauldrons: a skull with crossed axes.

An adventurer branch, Seth thought.

The other adventurers in the place did nothing and simply watched. Several adventurers wore expectant smiles, visibly pleased to see Garrat's group trouble a newcomer.

Seth looked back at the giant man.

"Ganging up on a single Iron as Silvers?" Dry amusement crept into Seth's voice. "Such bravery."

Garrat cracked his knuckles, irritation washing over his face. "There's no ganging up. I'm the only one who's going to beat the life out of you."

"Then let's take this outside," Seth said, his posture still completely relaxed.

"That'd be a waste of time." Garrat reached out to seize Seth by the shoulder.

Yet before the man could touch him, Seth reacted.

His hand snapped up and snatched the man's thick wrist mid-air. His fingers clamped down like the talons and locked the giant's arm in place.

Garrat grunted and tried to wrench himself free—his arm didn't move.

Seth stared into the man's widening eyes. For a split second, instinct took over. Aether surged toward the grooves of Dusk Scythes, so the blades of condensed shadow could cut Garratt's neck.

But at the last instant, Seth stopped the spell from forming.

He wasn't at war anymore, and that person had done nothing that made him deserve to be killed. Seth knew that. His body, however, didn't seem to have realized it yet—his bloodlust had already spilled out, displacing the very air around him.

Chairs scraped against the floor. Several adventurers who had been watching with amused expressions shot to their feet, smiles vanishing.

A woman with the unmistakable aura of a Gold Wielder seated near the left wall glanced toward the counter at the back. "Are you going to step in and say something, Hector?"

After she spoke, she returned her attention to her drink.

Hector had returned and was now leaning against the wooden counter, arms crossed over his chest.

"Absolutely not." A faint smile tugged at the grizzled guildmaster's face. "I want to see how many of these knuckleheads he can crush."

One of the men bearing Garrat's branch emblem stepped forward. "What do you mean—"

The last words died in his throat when his eyes landed on Garrat's arm.

The man's muscles bulged and trembled as he fought to free his arm from Seth's grip without success.

Seth showed some restraint yet still channeled a stream of aether into his fingertips. With flawless control, he increased the energy's density to compensate for the dozen points in Strength the man had on him.

Seth's fingers dug into Garrat's muscle and pressed on the man's bone, causing his face to drain of color and his knees to gradually buckle.

From behind the counter, Hector let out a scoff and reached for an empty mug. "Try not to kill any of them, Seth. I don't want to deal with the city authorities tearing apart my den."

Seth didn't loosen his hold. "Wasn't planning to."

A silence fell onto the floor, then whispers spread among the tables.

"Seth..." an adventurer near the center of the place murmured. His eyes widened as they settled on Seth's face. "Golden eyes."

Another man pushed himself up, almost jumping from his chair. "That's the Maddened Beast!"

"He Who Cannot Be Chained," someone farther added. "The son of Ulric Elrod."

More voices followed, low at first, then loud as a shared recognition passed from table to table.

Garrat swallowed, gaze shifting from the fingers crushing his wrist to Seth's face.

"You..." His voice had lost all of its confidence. It was as if the tier difference between the two of them had suddenly disappeared. "You're Seth Elrod."

A cold smile touched Seth's lips, and his fingers tightened even more. "Pleasure to meet you."