Rising god
Chapter 60: The second one

Chapter 60: The second one

The sun dipped low over Harper Hawks, casting long shadows across the bustling trade hub.

Baines slipped through the tavern’s back entrance, his movements silent and deliberate, avoiding the main floor where Sir Dolik’s watchful eyes might catch him.

Instead of rejoining the knight, he approached the counter, where the bartender met his gaze with a knowing nod.

Dolik, sensing something amiss, hurried over. "Is there an issue?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion, desperate for any clue to Baines’s intentions.

"I’ll be staying in this motel," Baines replied, his voice flat. Without waiting for a response, he collected a key from the bartender and ascended the creaking wooden stairs, leaving Dolik standing in the dimly lit tavern.

The knight’s mind reeled. This rundown place for a holiday?

First off, Harper Hawks wasn’t particularly the place one would spend their holiday, its air thick with the scent of ale and dust was far from a luxurious retreat.

The second was, Baines hadn’t even secured a room for him. Dolik had a duty to fulfill, and to achieve that, he had no other choice but to pay for the room close by.

"Sorry, that room’s occupied," the bartender said with a sly smile when Dolik requested the adjacent room.

Dolik’s eyes narrowed. ’He wants to keep me away,’

"Then the next one," he said.

"Oh, you can have that." The moment the bartender spoke, Dolik snatched the key and stormed upstairs, his frustration simmering. ’So convenient,’

...

In his room, Baines wasted no time.

The sparse chamber, with its worn wooden floor and single lantern flickering against the stone walls, wasn’t his stop.

"Wick," he called softly.

"Yes, master," came the reply, the shadowy creature materializing at his side.

"Make a clone of me."

At his command, Wick wove a replica of Baines, identical in every detail, expression, clothing, the sword at his waist, even the subtle tension in his posture.

Baines nodded approvingly, pulling his cloak over his body to dampen his presence as he instructed, "Place it on the bed in a sitting posture."

Wick complied, adding, "I’ve programmed it to perform basic movements, speak simple phrases..." The clone was a perfect decoy, capable of mimicking routine actions, but lacked combat ability.

’I’ll need more of these in the future,’ he thought, impressed by its utility.

With the sun setting, casting an orange glow through the window, the clone would go undisturbed by Dolik for the night.

Baines slipped out the window, Wick trailing like a silent specter, and their destination?

Dawnless.

Nestled between rugged mountains on the outskirts of the capital, Dawnless was a remote enclave, its isolation making it ideal for his plans. Positioned on the curve leading to the outliers’ region, it was shielded by towering peaks, yet strangely free of the biting cold typical of such terrain.

The journey took two hours at full speed, Baines’s aura-enhanced strides eating up the distance as Wick glided effortlessly beside him.

Upon arrival, the changes were noticed immediately. The visible population of Dawnless had swelled. Baines’s heightened senses counted at least five hundred souls, without trying. It was a stark increase from his last visit, and it showed they were doing their jobs.

"You are here," greeted the third executive, a wiry man with sharp eyes, standing at the edge of the settlement. His voice carried a mix of respect and apprehension.

"Where are the rest?" Baines asked, his tone clipped.

The executive then explained that, with their leader absent, the first executive managed the gambling dens, the second oversaw underground fights, and he supervised the organization’s operations.

The money Baines left had fueled their growth, expanding their numbers to over seven hundred, all bound by the slave chains Wick placed without their knowledge.

A hundred had been dispatched to search for Baines’s request, and using that opportunity, their enterprises now reached other regions.

Baines nodded, indifferent to their territorial ambitions or potential conflicts. As long as progress was made on his request, their other endeavors were irrelevant.

"I want to use the space behind the organization," Baines said, gesturing to the vast, barren expanse stretching toward the mountains behind the organization’s building.

The executive followed his gaze, his brow furrowing. "M-May I know what you will use it for?" he asked, his voice tinged with unease.

Baines’s reply was casual, almost flippant. "I want to place a volcano there."

"A—A volcano?" The executive’s jaw dropped, his mind struggling to process the absurdity.

Move a volcano? The notion defied reason. Could a volcano be moved?

Baines ignored the reaction, turning to Wick. "Set up illusion, barrier, and defensive formations. The volcano’s energy will power them, so channel all heat and fire to sustain the formations."

"Yes, master," Wick replied, its eyes gleaming with understanding.

The volcano’s raw power would make the site impregnable, impervious to all but a 9th or 10th star warrior.

Since they couldn’t plunge the lair now, they would drain it.

"Also, prepare for teleportation," Baines added, glancing at the first executive, who had just joined them.

"U-uh," the executive stammered, startled by Baines’s sudden attention.

"Prepare for my stay, I’ll be here for a while when I come back." With that, Baines sprinted back toward the capital, leaving the executive bewildered.

’What kind of leader is he?’ the man wondered, shaking his head to focus on his task.

...

Baines’s next destination was part of a long-brewing plan: the location of the second treasure.

The volcano would come next, but he didn’t have anything to do afterwards. No, it was more like he let it be that way. Planning for the future was fine; however, the major setback from fully planning everything ahead was the variables.

After another two-hour sprint, he reached a bustling city, its streets alive with merchants, travelers, and the hum of daily life.

Placing his hand on his face, he invoked the Aging Reversal technique, and his features shifted to those of a weathered middle-aged man.

With his cloak drawn tight and his sword at his waist, he blended seamlessly into the crowd.

The city thrummed with activity, vendors hawking spiced meats and glittering trinkets, children darting through the throng.

Baines navigated the winding alleys, his senses attuned to his target: the predicted location of the second treasure.

As he approached, he stopped short.

He briefly confirmed the location on the map from Eye before looking forward again.

Lo and behold, at the location of the predicted treasure, he found a line of people snaking toward the site, their chatter filled with anticipation.

It felt like an amusement park.

"What is this?" Baines’s eyes narrowed, his mind spinning in confusion.