Croix pulled the reins of his horse to slow its speed until it stopped. From a hill, he was able to see far and wide. Under a beautiful morning sky, villages had turned to charcoal. Far away, there were two settlements still burning.

Seeing the barbaric works of the Empire, Croix gritted his teeth.

A few days had passed since the Battle of Gryphon's Reach. A lot of things were in the eighteen-year-old prince's head. A big chunk of it was about the invasion. Tired of just imagining it, he decided to see for himself. The stable master in the city let him borrow the horse once he told him his name. He had become a bit famous, apparently. After he hopped on the saddle, he directed his steed towards the west, where the Harkelan Empire came and left its mark.

From where he stood, Croix saw destitute refugees walking. Fields that farmers toiled in, mercilessly trampled. Artes from Pathseekers battles that scarred the earth. Corpses of human settlements and even corpses of people themselves. They weren't knights but just ordinary folks, civilians.

"Empire savages," Croix cursed.

Suddenly, from the ground, someone emerged. He was wearing a thick cloak and had a knife pointed at Croix. The prince and the steed were startled by the sudden attack and were unable to get away.

Bam!

The second sudden change was the attacker being caught by a hand made of earth as big as a grown man.

Boram's Earth Grip Arte!

Croix recognized the Arte, he had seen it many times in the Sinclair Academy. From the grip, it was clear the hand was seriously trying to crush the assailant but the earth Pathseeker seemed to be enduring.

Croix drew his sword and stabbed with a fiery intensity.

Arte - Dragonfire Strike!

The flaming blade pierced the man's chest, giving him a fatal wound. Croix was unable to see what sort of expression he had because Boram was crushing the man's head with an overhead bonk with his enchanted metal hammer. The assassins' Unreality Field were unable to block the combined assault of him and Boram's brutal might.

"Phew... Thank you, Boram."

"Just doing my job. But riding out on your own to war-torn territories, without Falmerion no less, will make my job harder. Prince sir."

Croix didn't see Boram's horse. Did he run here? Considering his physical prowess and stamina, he probably did with ease. Croix's borrowed horse was just a normal one after all.

"Sorry, sorry. Falmerion needs rest. I pushed him hard during the battle. How did you know I'd be here?"

"I thought you would probably do something like this."

"You know me so well and you still won't call me a friend?" Croix joked about their little spat earlier in the Grand Prix.

"I'm only a lowly servant," Boram replied stoically.

Even though Croix had offered him status and positions, the boy three years Croix' junior but above him in the Path of Power seemed to be more interested in following his master. In the early days, Croix struggled with the concept that some people didn't care about social status as much as he thought.

Croix saw Boram rummaging through the assailant's dead body like it was second nature. Another thing that appalled Croix at first. Shouldn't people not rob the dead? Knights of Latias were supposed to be honorable and chivalrous.

Then again, when he thought about it further, it made sense. It was practical. Sometimes, what he learned from tomes and teachers was different from the reality on the ground.

"He's from the Bone Ravens, cultist assassins. I wonder if the reason you're targeted is that the Empire put a price on your head or your old bounty or just because you're a prince."

Boram offered half of the assassins' loot. In the past, Croix would have refused. Now, he would use the funds for nobler pursuits.

"I don't like how many people want me dead. It's sad, isn't it?"

"You just have to instill the fear of targeting you until they stop trying."

"Ah, must be your master's words. Simple and effective yet complicated and difficult at the same time."

Croix's chuckles grew louder as he saw Boram's puzzling look. He liked the simple outlook that Boram had on life. It was pure and refreshing. It was like he walked through life in a straight line, unlike himself who had to navigate the winding path of politics.

Remembering politics, Croix's mood took a dark turn.

"War is before us, my friend. The forces of Latias and neighboring allied kingdoms have started gathering. Soon, Duke Valentine will mobilize with a great war host." Croix said while looking at the land before him.

Far to the west still, lay the Harkelan Empire. They wanted to destroy Latias and take it for themselves. They are the enemy.

The evil that he must defeat.

Croix had been thinking about what Avel said last night without pause. He wanted to become king to change Latias for the better. As one born in the royal line, it was his duty and also what he wanted. To be a hero, as Avel put it.

What was in front of his eyes was clear. If they didn't stop them, the Empire would bring misery to the entirety of Latias.

I won't let that happen.

Nobody gave him the order to participate in the next battle but Croix felt it was his only choice.

"We will win it."

A wind swept across the plains carrying the smell of earth mixed with a little bit of burning scent. A wind of strife.

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***

Viers was preparing for war.

Since he had first awakened as Viers in this otherworld, he always knew he would one day become embroiled in wars. Not just any war, but magic wars.

Now one such war was no longer in some distant future but right in front of him. Considering what he knew about Croix, the prince would enter that blazing hellfire willingly.

As a vassal of the prince, 'Avel' was expected to follow him. However, Viers knew how easily lives could be lost in wars. Viers had no intention in dying, no matter the reason. Loyalty? Glory? He didn't care.

His only objective was to grow strong in order to live a good life. Death, no matter the reason, was unacceptable. His self-interest was absolute.

However, wars also presented opportunities, especially since he was a Soul Pathseeker. If he did it right, he would grow by leaps and bounds.

Even though he was pretending to be a Level 3 peak, in truth he was a Level 4 low who had slain a Level 4 peak in his stronghold.

He had a frighteningly high battle power, stealth and speed to run away, many magical items when he needed them, allies to call upon, superb intelligence gathering ability, several Divine-tier countermeasures, and even throw-away lives in the form of his clone and monster forms.

Last but not least, he had his Fables. Stories of war; how it started, how it unfolded, how it ended.

Analyzing his parameters without bias, Viers could confidently say he had more to gain in entering the looming war than the risk of losing.

Of course, he knew full well there would be danger. The likes of Red Eyes, the Level 5s, the plots of the devil cults, the mysterious pursuers from the eastern continent, and other unknown factors. He must not be complacent and arrogant.

Still, according to the power fantasy fables, MCs had to throw themselves into turmoil. When they emerged on the other side, they grew stronger and so able to withstand the next, bigger tide of turmoil.

Lately, Viers thought of himself as a Main Character. Everyone was the main character of their lives, or so some people said. There might be truth in those words but Viers was only interested in making himself the only MC that mattered. If any MCs got in their way, reincarnation or otherwise, he would hunt them and put them down six feet under.

He had the power and wisdom to make it happen.

The bimonthly Arcanum Club's meeting was underway. The hot topic was of course the invasion of the Harkelan Empire of the Latias Kingdom. Goods were traded and information was exchanged.

Even though only Viers knew the true identities of the arcana code names, the talks revealed who might be who or at least their location. Especially those who participated in the Battle of Gryphon's Reach.

Ciel the Justice was pleasantly surprised by the wideness of Viers' connection. Even if Viers was the disciple of the mysterious Big Boss, the Little Boss was the one running the show in the entity's absence. Being a part of the club, her head was full of ideas about how to benefit from this and about what she could bring to the table.

Jessica the Star who remained in the Crimson Capital of Latias shared what was happening in the beating heart of the kingdom. The people were restless and Chancellor Soren was busy. After some digging, she shared it was because of Countess Grace of Stormberg's infiltration of the palace and her daring escape, Soren was injured. The injury made him unable to notice the mobilization of the Empire.

Carlo the Hanged Man, a merchant who had become somewhat of a middle manager of the rapidly growing Viers Corporation, continued facilitating the buying and selling of the members as smoothly as possible. The news of the war wasn't known too far yet but the market was bound to be shaken up once it did. After following Viers' direction about the possibility of the war some time ago, he was in a position to reap a lot of profits. Seeing most members of the club taking the Latias Kingdom's side, the merchant would support his colleague in his own way. The plans he shared would prop up the Latias war effort, much to Ciel's happiness.

Izabella the Hermit, a Level 4 high-ranking member of the Blood Church, took the news of war breaking out in stride while the gears in her head were furiously turning. As a member of the shadow side of the Pathseeker world, she promised to keep an eye out for the movements of the cults and the Empire. Information that might turn into the club's advantage. She also gave information about the Warbringers who seemed to have been on the Harkelan Empire's side after being requested by several club members. The dossier of Red Eyes had gotten the most attention.

Sakuya the Lovers didn't trade much for now, but she was amassing funds. The battle and reward for saving the duchy made her purse pretty fat. She wanted to ruminate a bit longer about which direction she was going to grow and what skills she needed. She wanted to see what was needed for her to thrive on the mainland.

With war on the horizon, all Pathseekers strived to become stronger. The members aggressively traded for things that were necessary for their growth. With the gains after the battle, the threshold to Level 4 was closer than ever. Clarissa was at the forefront, followed by Paina and Farley. Perhaps in a year or two, they would be Level 4. If they had fortuitous encounters, the time would be even shorter.

Level 4 before the age of thirty was incredible and the three girls were still in their early twenties even two years from now. Their prowess was unquestionable.

As for Clarissa, the High Priestess card holder, Viers suspected she could already become Level 4 at any time, even today. The reason she hadn't done so was unknown. Perhaps she was stockpiling power like he did in his Level 4 Ascension.

Boram the Strength voiced his willingness to level up too but Viers rejected him. He was fifteen and already a Level 3 peak. Even Viers waited until he was twenty-one before becoming Level 4. Viers understood because of the looming war but he put Boram's future prospects above it.

"Even though it will be a long time yet before you can level up, there are many options we can explore to raise your battle strength. For now, let's improve your Giant transformation and refine your Unreality Field. I have many ideas."

"Yes, Master," Boram obediently obeyed.

The shadow of war spread far and wide but not everyone was keen on participating. Duke Valentine's announcement in the afternoon today made it official that the Grand Prix was suspended.

Farley decided to go back to Sinclair Academy once the break was over in one month. Even with the war, life went on and the academy didn't stop its curriculum. She wanted to keep an eye on her sister and the other two younglings. Until then, she would participate in the war as a mercenary.

Viers and the others respected her choice. All of their choices.

Clarissa also decided something pretty out of the blue. She wanted to search for the hidden Lamia tribe. There was a sense of urgency in her. The latest info the club had was the tribe was somewhere in Zetel. Paina, who had no taste in war, decided to accompany Clarissa.

However, if Viers needed their help, they were willing to teleport in and lend a hand. Viers had no objections.

The last of Team White, Sakuya, decided she would follow Viers into war. Her same-age niece from the ninja village, Yayoi was the same.

With the future movements of the Arcanum Club set, the meeting came to an end. The members bid each other goodbyes with their magical projection in the Velvet Sea, a special realm Viers created for the sake of the Arcanum Club, disappeared.

Until there were only two left: Viers the Fool and Izabella the Hermit.

"You have heard about the Popess' disappearance, yes?"

"Naturally. The higher-ups are planning something big," the vampiress said. "All the cults are."

"No matter how mighty the Silver Legion are, they will be stretched thin. A unique opportunity has appeared," Viers said in the Gendo Ikari pose.

"It goes without saying."

"If I read you correctly, you'll make a strike at the Tower of Remorse to free your sister."

"You read correctly," the woman with the witch's hat calmly said. "Did you also read that I will be seeking your help?"

"Naturally."

"I'll make it worth your while."

Izabella slid a paper towards Viers across the table. Viers gave it a glance without changing position.

"A king's ransom. How generous. And how the hell do you have a Biome to give?"

"Long story. So, are you in?"

"Might as well. There's also something I want in the prison where the Church puts the worst criminals."

Harkelan invasion on the left, prison break raid on the right.

Viers was able to do both.

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