075 Fate and Sin at Stormfort

As one of the few individuals in Cervantes City with the potential to advance to the third-tier sub-deity rank in the critical year, Carol was naturally held in high esteem. In return, he served as the chief armament master for the city’s military, supplying them annually with a substantial number of advanced alchemical items. This unofficial military status meant Carol was often seconded to assist other sectors of the Northwest Military District. In fact, Stormhold had requested his help more than once—in recent years, however, age and the need to prepare for his advancement meant he traveled less. In earlier years, he had spent more than half the year away from Cervantes City.

Carol was no stranger to Stormhold. After leaving the administrative hall and taking a couple of turns, he found a tidy, quiet little inn, booked a room, and gave Qiun a few words of advice about navigating Stormhold. He then gave Qiun a day off so he could explore the famed fortress at leisure, while Carol himself returned to his room to rest.

But once inside, Carol did not, as he had claimed, go to rest. First, he pulled the curtains tight to block out prying eyes, then took out a hexagram-shaped metal disk, placing it in the center of the room and activating it. Crimson light swept the entire space over and over, not sparing even the smallest corner. Only after this thorough sweep did Carol relax and take out a communication disk, infusing it with magical energy to initiate contact.

The magical image flickered and twisted before gradually stabilizing. When Carol saw the figure appear, he inclined his head and said quietly, “My lord, as you wished, we have arrived at Stormhold.”

The figure was shrouded completely in a black cloak—not a single feature or even a strand of hair could be seen. At Carol’s greeting, the figure replied, “Most of the ‘Sealing Array’ is already assembled. For this operation, it is most fitting that she occupy the array’s core.”

The speaker had not bothered to disguise their voice, and genuine emotion could be heard beneath the words. If Teresa had been present, she would have recognized the voice instantly—Mu! Clearly, it was Mu’s voice.

Whether Carol recognized it himself, he hesitated briefly before asking, “Isn’t this too risky? Tess has progressed quickly, but her studies have been brief and her foundation is still weak.”

“This time, ability is not required,” the cloaked figure responded lightly, leaving Carol momentarily speechless. “In terms of soul nature, hers is far stronger than that of her peers—that is enough.”

Though the words were delivered unhurriedly, Carol could sense the forcefulness beneath them, and dared not protest further. The black-cloaked figure, noticing his discomfort, added, “Though it appears dangerous, the benefits far outweigh the risks—if handled well, it will greatly aid her future growth.”

With this assurance, Carol felt a surge of confidence, and ceased worrying about Teresa, instead discussing other matters with the mysterious figure...

...

Far away in Cervantes City, Mu severed the long-distance connection. Tapping his fingers on the desk, the magical glow of the communicator flared as if ready to resume its work, but after a moment’s contemplation, Mu powered it down. With a twist of his hand, he drew from his spatial ring a piece of unusually fine stationery and wrote in bold, sweeping characters:

Teresa Bronto Borje!

—her full name.

☆☆☆

Though the military’s transfer order had come suddenly and urgently, when Teresa and her companions finally arrived at Stormhold, there was no immediate work assigned. Carol took the opportunity to grant the two young ones a short holiday—until official orders came, they were free to do as they pleased. Unfortunately for Teresa, she could not, like Qiun, wander freely through the famous “First Fortress of the Northwest.”

Her first day was spent almost entirely in the company of Betty and Amos. On the second day, she was denied even the luxury of sleeping in, and rose early to head out—she needed to find Barman, thank him again for the wolf-fang necklace, and inquire about its many mysteries.

Barman, a lifelong bachelor, had spent most of his years in Stormhold and was a disciplined, solitary soldier. With no family obligations, he lived in the barracks like most of the troops, unlike Amos and Betty, who rented private quarters for their families within the fortress.

As the barracks were strictly off-limits to civilians, Teresa’s request for an audience had to be relayed from the outermost perimeter. By the time she finally met Barman, half an hour had passed—most of it spent confirming her identity and ensuring her security.

Barman was visibly surprised to see her. “What brings you here so early, little one? Is something wrong?”

Teresa felt a wave of exasperation at his words, but suppressing it, she bowed politely. “I came specifically to thank you, and also to ask you some questions—about the wolf-fang necklace.”

Barman raised an eyebrow and smiled. “No wonder Amos always says you have a gift for alchemy. Perhaps he wasn’t exaggerating. Come, let’s get something to eat. I’ve just finished my morning exercises and I’m starving.”

Without waiting for Teresa’s reply, Barman strode ahead. Teresa, resigned, followed—she’d already had breakfast, and doubted she could eat more. Was she expected just to sit and watch Barman eat?

...

In the end, even a maverick like Barman wouldn’t ignore his guest so thoroughly. He brought Teresa a large apple, so the scene became one of Barman slurping noodles while Teresa nibbled her fruit at leisure.

Sated, Barman returned to their earlier topic. “So, what have you discovered about the necklace?”

Teresa, still eating her apple, replied slowly, “A couple of days ago, I accidentally cut my hand and some blood got on the wolf-fang necklace. That formed a blood pact. My teacher says the necklace is an orcish alchemical product, with the energy attribute of the Wolf Totem—berserker type.”

“Blood pact?” Barman frowned in confusion. “I acquired that necklace by chance. It’s just a defective piece—I liked its coolness in summer, so I wore it. How did you end up forming a blood pact with it?”

Teresa explained how she had obtained the other half of the grass cord, and Barman finally nodded. “It seems you’re fated to have it. I chose wisely in giving it to you. There’s no need for thanks—the benefits you gain are due to your own fortune and ability, not mine.”

Through this exchange, Teresa came to better understand Barman’s character, and inwardly rephrased his words, stripping away anything that might be misunderstood and keeping only his true intent. To Barman, the wolf-fang necklace had been on his person for years without any special effect. That it manifested powers for Teresa was entirely her own doing; he would not accept her gratitude.

Yet Teresa, understanding his feelings, insisted, “Regardless, had you not given it to me, I’d never have found the other half of the cord. So I must thank you—thank you very much.”

Barman waved her off with a laugh as he stood. “That settles it, then—no more talk of thanks. Since you and the grass cord are so well matched, I’ll give you the rest of the oddments that came with it. Let’s see if your luck holds.”

His tone made Teresa laugh, and she rose with an exaggerated bow. “Thank you for your generosity and your kind words!”

What started as a joke ended with Teresa leaving the barracks with a bundle of half-ancient trinkets. Both she and Barman thought nothing more of it, never suspecting that some people are simply fated to certain things...

...

After the three-day holiday, the official military orders arrived as expected. Carol and his two apprentices were assigned to Amos’s alchemy division. The moment Teresa learned who her superior was, she was momentarily stunned—a seventh-level high alchemy master, the half-elf Mu.

Another old acquaintance...

...

“Tess, what are you daydreaming about?” Qiun suddenly grabbed Teresa’s sleeve, stopping her before she went the wrong way.

Teresa snapped back to herself, scratching her head sheepishly and grinning. Qiun, a little worried, chided gently, “If you’re not feeling well, don’t keep it to yourself. Today’s work is easy—I can handle it alone.”

Teresa stuck out her tongue, embarrassed. “I’m fine, just lost in thought. Come on, let's go. I’m better at refining raw mithril than you—if you had to do this alone, we’d be here half the night.”

She exaggerated, but Qiun took no offense at being underestimated and chuckled, “It wouldn’t take all night—maybe until eleven at most. I’d just sleep a little later, that’s all.”

The two chatted as they walked down the corridor toward their destination, neither noticing the shadow that slipped from behind a pillar as they turned the corner. Cold, predatory eyes watched their retreating figures...

(To be continued)