402 Bloodied Fountain

The item currently in Kieran’s palm was the Teleportation Stone given to him by Lord Veradin. An object of complete and utter undeniable convenience.

It eliminated the need for Kieran to visit any of the War Deity Council’s temples to request access to the hidden portals, which were mainly used for mass transit or a high-level individual’s abrupt movement.

When used, the item would immediately teleport him to Veradin’s location. Under normal circumstances, Kieran wouldn’t take long to decide what to do.

However, these circumstances weren’t exactly “normal.”

It was the day—no, the hour of the Godhand Bazaar’s grand opening. As the owner, one would expect him to be present to oversee the event and note how remarkable or unremarkable it turned out to be.

Aside from noting its outcome, Kieran also felt responsible for ensuring a seamless experience exempt from any incident that could otherwise tarnish the reputation of the establishment, or perhaps become a detriment in any other possible departments.

With that, Kieran could ensure nothing would turn his newly launched business into an untenable endeavor. A probable threat and likely contribution to this outcome was naturally a lack of security.

After all, if consumers didn’t feel safe in his store, why would they ever visit?

Sure, the city itself maintained a set of ironclad rules, but those rules became loosely enforced the greater one’s reputation became.

After a certain point, the culprit could essentially get away with their atrocious conduct scot-free.

Kieran had already witnessed and experienced belligerent fools with the audacity to cause scenes in well-seated establishments, simply because they felt small.

The idea of not being able to afford everything within their view upset them, challenging their egos to an imperceptible skirmish.

This knowledge was the cause for Kieran’s lacking faith in players’ decision-making skills. He wouldn’t be surprised that given the opportunity, a decent amount of them would become rowdy and unmanageable.

At that point, however, Kieran would become free to exercise his liberties as the owner and administer punishment as he saw fit.

Of course, Kieran doubted it’d happen by his hand.

As he considered these potential situations, Kieran also thought about their solutions, whether it was peaceful or chaotic.

There remained an individual whose role in the team, or rather the newly created guild, was maintaining this order.

Altair—the Shadow Dancer and Executioner of Sanguis Requiem.

With the bonuses he received and the Shadow Dancer’s ability to turn him into a natural vehicle of undetectable and illusory death… Kieran was quite confident in Altair’s ability to adjudicate and deal with all disturbances.

Eventually, Kieran stopped hesitating and crushed the stone with his mighty grip. As the powder of the shattered stone trickled to the ground, water-like ripples appeared in the space before him.

Seconds later, a portal opened, and unlike his other experiences, this portal had a distinct image on the other side. Kieran could see Veradin leisurely eating a meal at that same incredible table meant to seat tens of people.

As if noticing the portal, Veradin glanced in its direction, smiling amicably. His gaze welcomed Kieran back to the War Deity Council’s main building.

No longer afflicted by any resignations, Kieran stepped through the portal, vanishing from the vicinity of the Godhand Bazaar. If his words and people weren’t enough to ensure the security of the establishment, he’d just have to be more… domineering next time.

…

Inside the War Deity Council…

Kieran waltzed through the portal, standing before Veradin quietly.

Contrary to Kieran’s expectations, Veradin’s first question had nothing to do with why he came.

“Are you hungry?” Veradin asked, his jaw indicating that he was in the process of chewing.

Initially, Kieran thought to decline the indirect offer, denying that he was hungry. However, that thought was instantly discarded once he noticed how sumptuous Veradin’s meal seemed.

“I can eat,” Kieran admitted.

“Take a seat. Chat with me, young man,” Veradin said with a nod.

At the same time, he closed his eyes, but his presence seemed to expand beyond them. Kieran had felt this once before. It was a sign that Veradin, or rather any Enlightened Being, was using a strange ability to communicate far beyond their current surroundings.

“A meal will be with you shortly. In the meantime… tell me, is it true that you’ve visited the Elves?”

“I did.”

Kieran couldn’t deny having visited the Elves. He didn’t underestimate the War Deity Council’s ability to collect information. Something also told Kieran that there was more to this War Crest of Champions than what was revealed.

There was no confirmation on these speculations, but Kieran felt it could be used to surveil the council members. Of course, Kieran could pose the question now, but was it something he should accuse a Council Lord of?

After all, it was Veradin who gave Kieran this crest.

“Considering you’re alive, I can only assume it went well for you. Must have something to do with your connection to the Wykins,” Veradin voiced.

The way he indifferently voiced information that neither Kieran nor anyone close to him disclosed told Kieran that there was some truth to his speculation.

From what he knew about Scar, he wouldn’t reveal anything on this subject, not when Kieran’s safety was his primary concern.

Agatha, like the Elves, also had no attachment to the War Deity Council, so she wouldn’t reveal her connection to Kieran all willy-nilly.

“I suppose that’s something we can use. I wouldn’t describe it so graciously, but it certainly wasn’t the worst, either. Still, my connection to the War Deity Council caused some unwanted issues.”

Kieran briefly recalled his experience with Venali. Seared into his memory was the image of the cold metal of an elven blade pressed against his throat until it was close enough to draw a faint trickle of blood.

There was also the matter of Amrynn, the young elven boy that shot an arrow to kill.

All in all, the visit was a true eye-opener, giving Kieran firsthand knowledge of the abhorrence Elves held towards them.

Elves deeply loathed humans.

This was an undeniable truth, even now.

Kieran’s visit to the Forest of Gardenia had not contributed to the Elves’ perception of humans at all. Kieran was only an exception—an anomaly that the Elves tolerated thanks to Gaea and Vitalia’s input.

“That’s good. No one wants a repeat of the past. At least… I don’t. I never advocated their attempts to conquer the Elves. Sadly, some of these overzealous men, tainted by their unquenchable desire to acquire more power, no longer adhere to reason. Once an idea is stuck in their mind… expect the worst.”

As he expressed his stance on the matter of the War Deity Council’s past invasion of outside races, Veradin took another bite of his succulent meal. His expression was calm and taciturn, preventing anyone from gleaning the deeper, more profound thoughts that circulated in his mind.

This applied to Kieran as well.

Even with his stellar set of eyes, he failed to extract any deeper yet unmentioned meaning in Veradin’s words and behavior.

‘I’ve mentioned it before briefly. But this level of calm, a steadfast belief in one’s self-control, should result in a menacing presence on the battlefield.’

Aware of Kieran’s silent staring, Veradin opened one eye for a moment, peering in Kieran’s direction. Though, that gaze seemed to look past him. “Your meal is here. Make sure you satisfy your hunger. The test you’re about to go through is rigorous. Not many have lasted long against its hellish rigor.”

In silence, Kieran wondered if this was a scare tactic Veradin was using or if it was merely the honest truth. As one of the strongest powerhouse organizations in the world, it wouldn’t be strange for it to possess a trial of a nightmarish difficulty.

However, rather than become fearful, this thought excited Kieran, making him expectant and anxious.

The rewards weren’t of a concern for him. He instead wondered what benefits or key teaching he could extract from the trial.

As expected of the council, particularly Veradin, he took good care of Kieran, preparing a platter similar to a lavish feast.

Complete with meat that filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma, there were also starches and vegetables ostensibly garnished with special seasoning made from the combination of spices and purified, edible Mana Dust. 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘭．𝘦𝘵

Kieran’s eyes widened with the first bite.

A surging and empowering feeling passed through his body. It bloomed from his stomach, creating a cycle of revitalization that looped through him.

His reaction was enough for Veradin to understand. “Must be the first time you’ve consumed the exquisite cuisine of a culinary master. I suppose that’s understandable. After all, spoiling is a counterintuitive behavior.”

“Was it that obvious? I need to work on my poker face.”

“You do. Never let the opposition understand what you’re thinking, plotting, or devising. It could remove your advantage and turn what you suspect to be an edge… into your undoing,” Veradin said, offering insight into the mental aspect of battling.

The insight could be applied to any kind of skirmish, really. Whether it was mental, physical, large-scale, or small-scale, losing the sole sovereignty of one’s thoughts was a condemnation.

…

Roughly two hours later, after speaking further with Veradin and giving his body time to digest the meal, Kieran rose from the table and followed Veradin.

Passing through the intricate paths of the main temple, where towering granite and marble-like pillars encroached on all sides, the two arrived within a room similar to a nave.

Except, this temple was not a place of prayer.

Situated in the middle of the room was an innocuous fountain with flowing red liquid. Given its viscosity and ruby color, it was clearly fresh blood.

“I present to you the relic… the Bloodied Fountain.”

Once Veradin revealed its name, the blood within the Bloodied Fountain seethed, coagulating and gathering until it formed a featureless soldier who descended to the ground in a half-kneeling posture.

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