Chapter 17: Weight of Intentions
That night, the house of Sheriff Marcus Camberley was quieter than usual.
Marcus stood by the fireplace, jacket off, sleeves rolled.
"I don't trust him," he said bluntly.
His wife sat calmly across from him.
"I know his intentions now."
She raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
"He's here for Champagne."
He exhaled sharply.
"If it weren't for the town meeting earlier, I would've told him to leave already."
His wife folded her hands.
"And what exactly is he fighting for?"
Marcus hesitated.
Then admitted quietly:
"Something bigger."
"Something systemic."
She nodded slowly.
"That sounds legitimate."
"It does," Marcus agreed.
"But he's going about it the wrong way."
Step....step...
He began pacing again.
"It's not like everyone else is just sitting idle."
"We negotiate, We comply where necessary, We push quietly when we can."
He stopped.
"He does it publicly."
"Boldly."
"It's like he doesn't believe there are consequences."
His voice dropped.
"If life has taught me anything…"
"Think about the people around you before you act."
"Every move has ripple effects."
"You don't just throw stones at giants while standing inside a glass town."
His wife smiled softly.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you this worked up."
Marcus scoffed faintly.
"He's a boy."
"But he's moving like a man with nothing left to lose."
She stood and walked to him.
"Maybe that's what scares you."
He didn't deny it.
After a long pause, he sighed.
"We'll watch. Not strike."
She squeezed his hand.
"Good."
They talked longer that night.
Not as Sheriff and adviser.
But as husband and wife.
And slowly—
His pulse settled.
* * *
Across town, Daito sat by the small window of the carpentry loft.
Fwoosh...
The wind moved through Manswill's streets.
Distant laughter.
A cart rolling over cobblestone.
A dog barking somewhere far off.
Normal life.
His mind, however, was not normal.
It was racing.
Too many calculations.
Too many angles.
Too many alternate conversations.
He replayed the rooftop exchange with Champagne repeatedly.
Different phrasing.
Different tone.
Different timing.
What if he had framed it differently?
What if he had pressed harder?
What if he had pulled back sooner?
All scenarios ended the same.
No one can turn back time.
Skreetch...
He leaned his head against the wooden frame.
It felt like someone was pointing a gun at his back.
Forcing him to grow.
Forcing him to decide.
Forcing him to move faster than he should.
But the truth was simpler.
No one was forcing him.
He still wasn't twenty.
Yet he carried himself like someone twice that age.
Like someone who believed delay was death.
Aerin's voice broke the spiral.
"You're overthinking."
He didn't respond.
"You can't replay what's done."
She stepped closer.
"You said your piece."
"He heard you."
"That's enough."
Daito looked at her.
There was no mockery in her tone.
Only clarity.
He exhaled slowly.
"You're right."
She crossed her arms smugly. "I usually am."
He reached out and lightly patted her head.
"Despite how you look…"
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're quite smart."
She slapped his hand away.
"Careful."
But she was smiling.
Daito looked back out the window one last time.
"Tomorrow we help move supplies to the border."
Aerin nodded.
"With the soldiers?"
"Yes."
"If stronger Freakers are testing the perimeter, logistics matter."
She stretched.
"Then we sleep."
For once—
He didn't argue.
He lay down on the simple bedding.
The town sounds slowly softened.
But one thought lingered before sleep finally claimed him:
Marcus was right about one thing.
This wasn't a game.
And growth rushed too quickly can crack foundations.
Tomorrow would be quieter.
Manual work.
Order.
Routine.
Or so it seemed.
Because when powerful people start thinking carefully.
That's usually when something bigger makes its move.
* * *
They woke before sunrise.
Cold water over skin.
Minimal words.
Gear checked twice.
Blades cleaned.
Straps tightened.
By the time the streets of Manswill stirred awake—
They were already moving.
At the town's eastern loading yard, armored supply vehicles waited.
Crates secured.
Ammunition sealed.
Food reserves tied down.
Soldiers stood alert.
And leaning against the lead transport was,
Champagne.
He straightened when he saw them.
"Morning."
Aerin nodded.
Daito gave a short acknowledgment.
No tension.
Just unfinished conversation hanging quietly between them.
They boarded.
VRRMM!
Engines roared.
The convoy rolled toward the northern border road.
* * *
Halfway through the trip, Champagne broke the silence.
"If we're working the same perimeter, we should share intel."
Daito didn't like that.
Information was leverage.
And leverage was survival.
But silence wasn't strategy either.
So he spoke.
"Freakers aren't random."
Heads turned slightly inside the vehicle.
"They evolve based on environmental pressure."
"Combat exposure accelerates adaptation."
"High casualty rates force mutation spikes."
Champagne narrowed his eyes.
"You're speaking from experience."
"Yes."
A pause.
Then Champagne added carefully:
"Ever since you two arrived… their power's increased."
He leaned back slightly.
"Almost like someone's upgrading them."
The vehicle grew quieter.
"You got any idea why?"
Aerin answered first.
"I grew up in a native valley."
The soldiers glanced at her.
"The Freakers there were handled by our tribe's king."
She paused deliberately.
"Bugardi."
A soldier muttered, "Never heard of him."
Aerin's tone stayed calm.
"He was later killed by Daito."
The vehicle erupted.
"What?"
"You're serious?"
Even the driver glanced back.
Champagne's eyebrows rose.
Then a slow grin spread across his face.
"You killed a tribal king?"
There was no accusation.
Only excitement.
Daito shrugged lightly.
"It was necessary."
One of the younger soldiers leaned forward.
"So you're like… a king slayer?"
Another laughed nervously.
"King Killer."
The nickname hung in the air.
Daito didn't react.
He didn't see it as a title.
Just a consequence.
* * *
After a moment, Daito continued.
"Before I fell into the Dark Bridge chasm…"
"My former team was on an assassination mission."
The energy shifted again.
"Target?"
"A mad scientist."
He paused.
"High Chancellor Vannian."
Champaign's posture changed subtly.
A flicker in his eyes.
Vannian.
The surname wasn't unfamiliar.
Daito glanced at him briefly—
Then continued, almost clinically.
"He was experimenting on Freakers."
"Upgrading them."
He gestured vaguely, almost detached.
"Using subjects."
His eyes briefly passed over Champagne.
"…as examples."
The entire vehicle went silent.
No one missed it.
Champagne looked forward.
Jaw tight.
There was discomfort there.
And something close to shame.
He didn't speak.
Daito noticed.
And clarified calmly:
"I'm not judging anyone."
"You don't choose your bloodline."
The words were steady.
Measured.
But they landed heavy.
"The Chancellor wasn't just refining Freakers," Daito continued.
"He was breeding a new classification."
He looked at the soldiers one by one.
"Frevage."
The name alone sent a chill through the cabin.
"What the hell is that?" someone whispered.
"Hybridized variants," Daito replied.
"Stronger skeletal density."
"Higher cognitive response."
"Partial tactical awareness."
Champagne finally spoke.
"Smart Freakers?"
"Not fully," Daito corrected.
"But smarter than anything you've fought."
Silence swallowed the vehicle.
Engines hummed.
Tires crushed gravel.
And for the first time—
The soldiers looked less confident about their border mission.
Champagne stared out the windshield.
If High Chancellor Vannian was truly his father....
If those experiments were real.....
If Frevage existed....
Then this wasn't just about protecting Manswill anymore.
It was personal.
Very personal.
He spoke quietly.
"You're saying someone could be continuing his work."
"Yes."
"And you think the power spike is connected."
"Yes."
Another silence.
He exhaled slowly.
"Then this just got bigger."
Daito nodded once.
"It always was."
* * *
The convoy approached the outer ridge.
Smoke in the distance.
Too much smoke.
The lead soldier grabbed his radio.
"Border unit, report."
Static.
Then screaming.
Then nothing.
Champagne's eyes sharpened.
Daito's hand moved toward his blade.
Aerin tightened her grip.
Because if Frevage were real—
They were about to find out.
The convoy reached the border ridge without incident.
Too quiet.
The extraction zone stretched wide and empty — dry plains meeting broken rock formations.
To anyone else, it looked abandoned.
To the three of them, it looked… familiar.
Like the kind of wilderness boys once ran through without fear.
Champagne breathed in deeply.
"This almost feels peaceful."
Aerin nodded faintly. "Different. But similar."
Daito scanned the horizon.
Still.
Wind moving low.
Nothing obvious.
Champagne glanced at them.
"So how did you even realize?"
"That I was a… Savage?"
Aerin answered without hesitation.
"The moment we saw you up close."
He smiled faintly.
"Figures."
There was no denial.
Just acceptance.
Then his tone shifted.
"Since we're away from town now…"
"What are the chances Freakers show up?"
Daito didn't answer immediately.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"High."
He pointed toward the western ridge.
Dust was rising.
But not like natural wind.
It pulsed.
Shifted.
Moved with intention.
Like something alive inside it.
"Take cover!" Champagne shouted to the soldiers.
They scrambled behind transport vehicles and supply crates.
Weapons raised.
Safety off.
Daito, Aerin, and Champagne stepped forward.
Waiting.
FWOOSH!
The dust storm accelerated—
Then stopped abruptly right in front of them.
Silence fell.
From within the fading haze—
A massive Freaker emerged.
Tall.
Broad.
Metal-plated face fused into bone.
Robe draped over its frame like ceremonial armor.
Swoosh...
It raised its arm slowly—
And from beneath the robe—
A man stepped out.
Unaged.
Unburned.
Exactly as Daito remembered him.
"The Man Who Should Be Dead"
High Chancellor Vannian smiled warmly.
He looked at Champagne first.
"Son."
"Long time no see."
He opened his arms slightly.
As if welcoming a child home.
The next second—
SWOOSH!
Daito and Champagne moved simultaneously.
A punch to the face.
A punch to the stomach.
Perfect synchronization.
POW! POW!
The Chancellor's body was launched backward—
SWOOSH!
BOOM! CRASH!
Crashing through his own metal-faced Freaker.
Both tumbled violently across the stone before slamming into a distant rock outcrop.
Debris scattered.
Dust exploded outward.
FWOOSH!
The Chancellor stood up slowly.
Holding his cheek.
Smiling.
"Not bad."
His eyes sharpened.
"But by now…"
"You should know."
"Every action has retaliation."
He raised both arms theatrically—
Like a conductor before an orchestra.
The ground trembled.
RUMBLE! RUMBLE!
From every ridge.
Every crack.
Every dune.
Hordes.
Hundreds.
Freakers pouring in from all sides.
Encircling.
Cutting off retreat.
Aerin's breath tightened slightly.
Even she had never seen numbers like this.
Champagne's jaw stiffened.
"This is new…"
Daito felt sweat gather near his temple.
Not fear.
Recognition.
He'd seen this scale before.
This was calculated intimidation.
The Freakers stopped moving.
They formed a perimeter.
A living wall of muscle and bone.
The Chancellor lowered his arms.
"Relax."
"I'm not here to slaughter you."
"Not yet."
Champagne leaned slightly toward Daito.
"Frevage in there?"
Daito scanned the horde carefully.
"No."
"Frevages are enhanced Savages."
"These are upgraded Freakers."
"Improved."
"But still inferior."
Champagne exhaled quietly.
Small relief.
Daito stepped forward.
"What do you want?"
Their eyes locked.
No dust.
No noise.
Just history.
The Chancellor smiled thinly.
"You have zeal, Daito."
"I admire that."
He clasped his hands behind his back.
"I'm offering you both an opportunity."
"Two options."
He raised two fingers.
"You work for me."
"We refine this world together."
"Or....."
He lowered one finger.
"You die here."
His smile widened.
"And once you're dead…"
He gestured lazily toward the distant direction of Manswill.
"I'll send this entire army to your town."
"They'll kill everyone."
"Burn everything."
"Erase the inconvenience."
Silence.
FWOO!
The wind carried the words heavily.
Champagne's breathing changed.
His fists trembled slightly.
"You threaten my home?"
The Chancellor tilted his head.
"I incentivize cooperation."
That was it.
Champagne's restraint snapped.
Rage flooded his aura violently.
CRACK!
The ground beneath his feet cracked.
"You don't get to use them."
Daito stepped slightly in front of him.
"Calm."
But Champagne's voice was shaking.
"He thinks this is leverage."
The Chancellor's smile never faded.
"It is leverage."
Aerin adjusted her stance.
Whispered quietly—
"This isn't about fighting."
"He wants to recruit."
Daito's eyes sharpened.
"Yes."
Because killing them was risky.
But turning them—
Would be catastrophic for the system.
The Chancellor spoke again.
"You two could change everything."
"With me."
"Imagine not fighting scraps at borders."
"Imagine designing evolution."
His gaze moved between them.
"Join me."
Or watch your town die.
to be continued.....