Chapter 11: A Human Error.
"So, after obtaining your identification from the village administration office, you were returning directly to the farm, and that's when you saw Overd's wife running in panic…" The guard concluded his interrogation of Leeward.
He had understood everything from him, noting that Leeward showed no hesitation while discussing his freedom and identification papers. This gave the guard the impression that his words were sincere. Recording everything in his notes, the guard stated, "That is all, Mr. Leeward Kashin… thank you for your cooperation."
Leeward stared at him for a few moments, then turned and headed for the exit. In his mind, several plans were already tightly woven, and he was now intent on executing them. The air inside the pen was cold, mixed with the scents of farm life and earth—a fragrance that felt neuralgic yet comforting despite the lingering tension.
*"I must obtain some money to be able to move during these times..."* he thought, considering his options for acquiring silver pieces.
There was only one viable path currently: fighting in the **Danek Arena**. Being a suspect in a murder case meant working elsewhere without prior connections would be nearly impossible, especially since he had only recently secured his freedom.
*"I will go and register at the Danek Mertequn Arena, owned by that Haigy, Refil Monoth..."*
The **Danek Mertequn Arena** was a title given to First-Rank warriors. It was owned by **Haigy Refil Monoth**, a member of the Refil Monoth branch—a family fiercely antagonistic toward the Kantum Monoth family. Haigy was a prominent figure with vast influence.
Leeward didn't waste mental energy on who killed Overd; his sole concern was emerging from this case unscathed. He walked through the farm toward the outer gate, his true goal being to ascend to the **Second Rank: Hardened Warrior**.
Currently, he stood at the precipice of the **First Rank: Body and Soul**, in the fourth and final tier of the **Transition Stage**. Crossing it would mean a massive leap in power. However, this required **Spiritual Elixirs** or **Spiritual Stones**, with Elixirs being the superior choice.
Elixirs were Spiritual Stones whose spiritual essence had been pre-extracted and mixed with **Euclidean Water**—a liquid as sweet as cold milk with an excellent spatial structure for containing spiritual energy. They far surpassed raw stones in efficiency. A warrior using a stone must first extract the essence and merge it with their own soul to increase its density. With Elixirs, the spirit is already prepared, allowing for direct and faster integration.
*"My problem is the severe lack of funds... If only I had thirty silver pieces, I could buy three Spiritual Elixirs. Combined with the spiritual core I took from the **Stone Cat's** corpse, I could break through to the Hardened Warrior rank..."*
Lost in thought, Leeward reached a decision: he would visit a **Spirit Water-Bearer** (a vendor of spiritual refinement tools) to hand over his current spiritual core to be processed into an elixir.
Oblivious to the passing time, he suddenly found himself in a bustling street filled with the chaos of street vendors and the loud chatter of the public market.
"When did I get here? I need to calm myself and clear my mind..." he whispered, taking in the gaudy frenzy around him. "I am already close to the Spirit Water-Bearer... I'll hurry there, then head straight to the Danek Mertequn Arena."
A few moments later, Leeward arrived at the **Spirit Water-Bearer's** shop, tucked away in a dark alleyway. The exterior was peculiar, looking like the dwelling of an outcast sorcerer. Black banners hung from the facade, adorned with illustrations of martial techniques, spiritual stones, and elixirs. A sign swayed above the door:
'Morgue's Spirit Water-Bearer'
As Leeward entered, a small bell chimed, and a sharp, pungent scent hit his nostrils. The shop was a labyrinth of shelves, each packed with jars containing spirits of varying hues—vivid greens and deep reds—alongside a chaotic array of spiritual tools.
Standing before the wooden counter was a man of medium height with striking, fiery red hair. Leeward stared; the man turned with a cold, piercing gaze. This was **Kante Sharman**, the illegitimate son of the Sharman King.
They exchanged a frigid look for a long beat. *"A strange man... and that red hair. Only the Sharman Clan possesses such a trait. Have their knights already arrived to hunt for the treasure?"* Leeward's mind raced. Despite the faint stirring of anxiety, his expression remained a mask of indifference.
At that moment, the **Spirit Water-Bearer** emerged from a small back door. He was an old man, withered by time, with a messy, pale beard. He cradled a glass vessel containing a black, stone-like spiritual tool that emitted faint, rhythmic vibrations.
"Here is your request, Master Kante... it was an ordeal to acquire. A **Spiritual Tool of Earth and Air Resonance**. I hope the noble Lord of the Sharman Clan finds my humble service satisfactory." The old man beamed with pride at serving royalty.
"Of course," Kante replied, his tone devoid of the typical arrogance of his station. "I appreciate your hard work in securing such a rare tool. But let us get to the heart of it—the price?"
Leeward watched, realizing his predicament had just spiraled. He wasn't just a murder suspect anymore; he was now in the orbit of the **Dragon Empire**.
"One hundred and fifty silver pieces, or fifteen gold pieces... whichever you prefer, Master," the old man chirped.
Leeward's eyes widened. Fifteen gold pieces. A man could build a cottage with seven, buy livestock with three, and live comfortably on the rest. A single gold piece weighed roughly twenty grams; it was an astronomical sum for a single tool.
Leeward thought of his own debt—three kilograms of silver, or one hundred and fifty pieces. His entire freedom and debt to Overd were equal to the price of this single artifact.
He watched as Kante pulled out a long, weathered brown leather pouch and casually produced fifteen gold pieces. It was a stark reminder of the class divide; for Kante, this was pocket change. Each coin bore the engraved emblem of a dragon—the currency of the **Dragon Empire**.
Kante took the **Resonance Tool** and prepared to leave. As he walked past, his eyes drifted toward Leeward's feet, which were clad in wooden sandals. Between Leeward's toes, Kante saw it: **dried, caked blood**.
Kante's pupils dilated. In an instant, his mind connected the footprints at the massacre to the man standing before him. Without a word, he continued out of the shop.
Leeward had forgotten to wash his feet after walking through the carnage of the caravan.
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