Rising god
Chapter 57: Use

Chapter 57: Use

The air outside Baines’s quarters was crisp, tinged with the faint scent of pine from the surrounding Darkan forests. Tasha stood at his door, her eyes alight with excitement, clutching a parchment emblazoned with the Solaris Imperial Family’s seal.

The announcement of the "Rising Star" tournament had set her heart ablaze. She thrived on competition, and this was no ordinary contest. Darkos, the capital of the Darkan lands, had become a focal point of intrigue in recent months, drawing the empire’s gaze. The tournament promised not only glory but a chance to sate the curiosity of those eager to uncover the secrets of this enigmatic region.

"When is it?" Baines asked, his voice flat as he scanned the letter, his expression as unreadable as stone.

"Two weeks," Tasha replied, nodding enthusiastically. "Plenty of time for travelers to arrive and rest before the tournament begins."

Baines handed the parchment back, closed the door behind him, and began walking away without a word. Tasha blinked, caught off guard. "Huh? Where are you going?" she called, hurrying to match his stride when no response came. Undeterred, she took his silence as an invitation to follow, her curiosity outweighing her confusion.

Their destination was the family head’s office, a grand chamber within the Darkan stronghold, its walls adorned with ancient tapestries depicting draconic battles.

Tasha’s presence smoothed their entry. Guards who might have questioned Baines alone stepped aside, recognizing her status. Inside, the family head sat behind a polished obsidian desk. Beside him stood a striking woman with flowing black hair, her presence commanding yet warm.

"Mother!" Tasha exclaimed, her surprise genuine.

"Come to me, baby girl," the woman said, opening her arms. Tasha rushed into her embrace, a rare moment of vulnerability softening her usual bravado. Sensing the gravity of the meeting, the woman smiled gently.

"Let’s catch up while they speak." With a graceful nod, she led Tasha out, leaving Baines alone with the Darkan family head.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the faint crackle of a fire in the hearth. "I’m sure you’ve heard the news," the family head said, leaning forward, his eyes searching Baines’s impassive face. "So, why are you here?"

"I came to request leave for my holiday," Baines replied, his tone devoid of inflection.

The family head’s incredulity was palpable. "Now?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. He couldn’t fathom why Baines would choose this moment to depart, especially when the tournament was, in part, a stage to showcase his prowess.

The Darkan family head didn’t want to believe that Baines didn’t know that one of the reasons this tournament was being held was because of him.

"Yes," Baines said, unfazed by the weight of his request. He didn’t care about what pressure the family would face with his absence from the tournament.

The family head leaned back, his mind racing. "Can I ask why?"

"I’m looking for a clue," Baines answered simply, offering no further explanation.

The family head’s thoughts churned. ’A clue? To the enemies he’s pursuing?’ He recalled Sir Dolik’s reports of Baines’s communications with someone outside the family, perhaps this was related.

Maybe the worst part was that he couldn’t refuse.

When Baines had asked for this as a reward, he had thought of it as small, too little in fact.

However, now, at this moment, it seemed too much.

There was also the fact that Baines was an enigma, a young man whose strategic brilliance, peculiar alchemy with plants, and unmatched talent hinted at secrets too vast to unravel. His ties to the Malakars further complicated matters, shielding him from scrutiny over his mysterious resources.

With a heavy sigh, the family head relented. "Alright. As you know, Sir Dolik is assigned for your protection. You may leave when you wish."

Baines nodded and exited, leaving the family head to grapple with the implications of his absence.

...

Back in his room, Baines sat on the edge of his cot, the dim glow of a single lantern casting long shadows across the stone walls.

’The empire wants to test me,’ he thought, his mind dissecting the tournament’s true purpose.

The announcement was a calculated move, a public declaration that the empire was offering him a prize, daring others to challenge him for it. It was like shouting to the world, I am giving this person something, go and take it from him. And to him, it was like saying, Secure your reward.

The Sun Pill was a treasure infused with concentrated sun mana, and that was the true bait.

Basically, after taking that pill, the person was stuck to the empire for life. How would they willingly give out one of their most precious treasures, an accumulation of sun mana?

So, with this event, they were trying to tie him down. Then they would begin to look for ways to draw him into their fold.

However, such elaborate planning was about to go down the drain.

Baines wasn’t going to participate.

His thoughts were interrupted by Wick’s return, the shadowy creature materializing with a recording device.

The sounds it captured were garbled, a telepathic exchange indecipherable to most. But Baines, versed in the Eternal Echo technique, recognized the cadence. "Eye, translate," he commanded.

[TRANSLATING...]

Like that, the conversation in the Dragon’s Pit unfolded in his mind, revealing Smallfoot’s negotiations and the dragons’ plan to deceive him. They intended to lure him into restoring their heritage, only to offer him a fraction of the lair’s treasures once they held the power to overpower him.

Baines’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "They don’t know anything," he muttered, shaking his head. Their attempt to undervalue his aid was insult enough; their scheme to use him was laughable.

"Master, I will enslave them and make them tell us," Wick offered, its voice laced with indignation. It couldn’t fully decipher the dragons’ words but sensed their betrayal through the Eternal Echo’s resonance.

"No," Baines said, his tone calm but resolute. "Let her come. They’ll learn who they would soon learn who they can use and who they cannot."

As if on cue, a knock echoed through the room. Baines opened the door to find Smallfoot, her human form radiating confidence, her eyes alight with the conviction of a solved puzzle.

"We agree," she began, her voice brimming with assurance.

Baines regarded her silently, nodding for her to continue.

"But there’s an issue," she said, her smile faltering slightly under his scrutiny. "Only I can’t open the lair. We’ll need several others with their heritage restored to do it."

After a brief silence, "Proof."

"What?" Smallfoot stammered, caught off guard.

"I need proof that only those I restore can open it," Baines said, his voice steady and unyielding.

Smallfoot’s mind raced. ’Proof? That makes sense, it lends legitimacy.’

"What proof do you need?" she asked, her composure returning.

"Show me," Baines said. "Show me it’s impossible to open it alone."

’He bought it,’ Smallfoot thought, suppressing a surge of triumph.

Faking an attempt to open the lair was simple, they could just halt the process before it began.

She nodded slowly, her mind already envisioning the dragons’ resurgence, their return as rulers of the skies. Baines, meanwhile, was plotting his next move.

As far as he was concerned, this stage of his plan was already complete.

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