R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 10

R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 10 (in editing)

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“…are you alright?” A confused expression appeared on Gregor’s face as the Lord Justiciar stared at Micheal.

“Uh-ah, yes. Ahem, sorry.” Micheal blinked as he responded to Gregor, giving the Farian a nod.

“I’m fine.” He most certainly was not.

Micheal had timed his Eyes of the Deep to activate precisely when the Lord Justiciar walked in. The Farian had knocked on his door and announced himself before entering, but Micheal had opted to not respond. It was a simple matter to pretend to be caught up practicing his Abilities, Micheal had been confident he could pull it off with no worries.

And, he succeeded. However, rather unexpectedly, Micheal found himself caught completely off guard by the results of his Divine Scan.

‘What the hell… how did humanity kill him?!’ Micheal stared at the blue screen that was floating in front of him while making small talk with the Lord Justiciar.

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— - Divine Scan— -

Race: Drakel Farian

Title: -

Traits: -

STR - 40 (SS+)

END - 32 (S-)

REG - 18 (C+)

SOL - 30 (A+)

Path Notes: A Drakel Farian that walks the Path of the Sword.

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The results were unbelievable. An SS+ Growth Rating in Strength, an S- Growth Rating in Endurance, and an A+ Growth Rating in Soul. The low Recovery Growth Rating wasn’t ideal, but it didn’t detract much from the other overwhelming Ratings.

Even among Deities, a pure SS+ Growth Rating was extraordinary, let alone among mortals.

The Lord Justiciar was known as the strongest Farian in history for good reason.

‘With Growth Ratings like that, if he had survived longer and moved up the Layers…’ Micheal couldn’t help but to lament at the wasted potential.

The Lord Justiciar would grow at an extremely fast rate, but he would only truly be able to take advantage of that in the higher Layers, where others would begin to meet their growth caps. The fact that he died on the Second Layer in Micheal’s first life was a travesty.

Micheal glanced over the stats one last time. A Strength stat of 40 on the Absolute 100 Scale meant that, compared to Micheal, the Lord Justiciar was roughly 3 and a half times stronger. His Endurance was likewise monstrous.

‘He’s already on par with any one of the Six Lords.’ Micheal had thought it would take longer for the Farian to get this strong.

He blamed the fragmented historical records for his mistake, as well as Gregor’s skill in hiding his true strength. What he had missed before was only visible now. It was almost impossible to hide one’s secrets from a being that possessed Divine Eyes.

The only stat advantage he had over the Farian leader was his Soul stat. While Micheal’s current Growth Rating for Soul was only a B, the enormous effort Micheal had put into growing his Soul was holding true.

“The Council is meeting soon. If it’s convenient, would you like to meet with them now?” Gregor asked.

Micheal stood up from his bed with a nod, already dressed and ready to go. He had prepared himself for the meeting, changing into a pair of plain blue jeans, a white buttoned shirt, and a sturdy pair of brown leather shoes. It wasn’t a fancy outfit by any means, but by Farian standards, it was a proper set of clothes for a formal meeting. The Farians emphasized practically and function over form in these matters.

“It’s better to handle it now. I can’t stay here for too long.” Micheal followed the Lord Justiciar as they walked outside. Gregor waved at the guards that were standing watch around Micheal’s residence, dismissing them.

Warm sunlight glowed across his skin as he and Gregor began making their way through the Farian encampment. The sounds of happy children playing mixed with the grunts of hard workers constructing new dwellings as the Farians expanded on their encampment. This base appeared to be a relatively new one.

“So, Micheal, my new friend. What’s the big secret you’re going to share with the Council?” The Lord Justiciar spoke up as they walked.

Micheal gave him a sidelong glance.

“You could tell?” He hadn’t mentioned anything about his plans yet. The Lord Justiciar was more perceptive than he thought.

Gregor grinned.

“Nope, but now I know for sure.” The Lord Justiciar laughed cheerfully.

Micheal’s lips twitched. Gregor’s grin grew a little wider.

“…”

“…”

He sighed to himself.

‘I’ve gotten careless. Well, whatever. He’s an ally I’ll need anyway.’

“…I suppose I can tell you. You’ll hear it, anyway, in a bit.” Micheal murmured as he looked around, making certain they were out of earshot of anyone else.

This part of the encampment was particularly busy, with hundreds of Farians moving from building to building, some flying overhead while others walked to and fro. It was a bustling, warm environment that was at odds with the Slums of humanity. The Farian Tribes might not be perfectly unified, but they clearly took better care of their own then humanity.

Despite the crowd, the Farians willingly parted ways for the Lord Justiciar, giving him a wide berth out of respect. Several of them bowed their heads at Micheal, sharing welcoming smiles. The looks they gave him were so friendly that it made him uneasy. He wasn’t used to an atmosphere like this.

“It has to do with the true nature of the Byrens. More specifically… the true nature of the Six Lords of the Byren Sects…” Micheal began.

Gregor drew a step closer, interest sparking in his eyes.

“Go on.”

Micheal smiled with a grin that held no warmth as he casually spilled the biggest and most well-kept secret on the Second Layer.

“The vaunted rulers of the Second Layer, the pride of the Byren Race, the esteemed Six Lords…” His eyes flashed.

“They aren’t actually Byrens.”

The Lord Justiciar’s eyes widened in shock.

“What? If not Byrens, then what are they?!” Gregor asked in disbelief, his body tensing up. He looked like he wanted to run off right now and order an investigation.

“Have you heard of the Old Races that used to rule this world?” Micheal responded with a question of his own.

Gregor paused for half a second before nodding.

“Yes, just a bit, though. Torens, Blue Drakes, and Dark Wraiths. They’re all extinct or gone from this realm, and have been for hundreds of years.”

Micheal shook his head.

“Not all of them.” His eyes grew colder as he continued,

“The Old Races were known for constantly being in turmoil with one another. The Torens, in particular, clashed with the Blue Drakes and the Dark Wraiths in territorial disputes. The balance between the three races was solid for many, many years… However…” He went on,

“All of that ended when the Torens transformed into a race of Deities.” Micheal spat the word ‘deity’ out like it was a curse.

“With their newfound powers, the first thing the Torens did was massacre the other dominant races.”

In Micheal’s first life, human archaeologists and historians had teamed up to uncover the true history of the Second Layer. They never found out exactly what happened, but the hints they did discover were enough to piece together a full picture with a bit of guesswork. 

“The Blue Drakes were slaughtered down to the last child.” In the end, they were only an intelligent Draconic sub-species, insanely powerful but not nigh-invincible. If they had been real Dragons, they might’ve been able to resist. There was still the mystery of how every descendant, from hidden, hibernating drakes to secret eggs, was destroyed, but the Torens likely had something to do with it. 

“When the Dark Wraiths realized what was happening, it was already too late. Their species was originally small in number and easily brought to the verge of extinction.” The sheer raw power of any Tribe of Deities meant if one didn’t prepare beforehand, it was almost impossible to resist them.

“Most of the Dark Wraiths stood together and fought to the end.” Despite their ominous name, they were a brave and powerful race.

“However… a few of them didn’t.” Micheal’s face grew even icier, if that was possible.

“Six cowards chose to betray their comrades, giving away their location and using their own kind as a distraction to escape.” It was a classic story of betrayal that enraged Micheal. He couldn’t blame them for fleeing, the Deities were monsters that they stood no chance against, but to betray one’s allies was unforgivable.

“To avoid being tracked down, they abandoned their ghostly Spiritual Form and chose to take over the bodies of one of the races serving the Torens.”

The Lord Justiciar’s eyes widened in realization as he abruptly realized where Micheal’s story was leading.

“So you mean to say…” Gregor began.

“Yes.” Micheal cut him off with a nod.

“The Six Lords of the Byren Race are actually Dark Wraiths.”

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