AoP | B2 | Chapter 64: Gold Tier (Patreon)

Seth's core pulsed in his chest as both Nightmare and Colossus stirred inside the teardrop necklace. None of the eight figures ahead exuded the overwhelming pressure of a Gold Wielder, but still. Eight Silvers. That was more than enough to overwhelm both Seth and his professor.

Despite the situation, a smile appeared on Reat's lips as the man looked at Lucius's brother. "This is Veronica's doing, right? She really couldn't resist such a perfect occasion to take out the two people she hates the most from the Academy."

Veronica, Seth repeated inwardly, unsure for a moment before it finally hit him. Veronica Lancet. The first-year intendant.

"Smiling right up until the end. You're quite a character, Calvin," Sergeant Faertis answered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "To be fair, I'm pretty sure she hates Director Ryehill even more than you. She has been waiting for him to drop dead and let her take his place for far too long. Maybe that opportunity will come sooner than he thinks. Who knows?"

"Oh, I don't think so," Professor Reat replied nonchalantly. "And I have to say, I'm disappointed. Only eight of you? She should have sent more if she wanted to make it worthwhile. I wouldn't have minded killing a few more lapdogs from your precious houses."

The group around Lucius's brother tensed, and a visible ripple of anger passed through them. One of the women on the far left even took a half-step forward, her knuckles white on her dagger. In her eyes, Seth could see a burning desire to take Reat's head.

"You're awfully confident, Calvin." Sergeant Faertis sneered as he took off the shield hanging across his back. "You beat me a few years ago, but things are different now."

"Different? Because you chugged a whole wagonload of enhancers?” Professor Reat shot back. “You really think that’s going to change anything? I’m not convinced that little boost was worth locking yourself in the Silver Tier forever.”

"Says the man who will be dead five minutes from now," Faertis retorted, his hand finally drawing his sword.

The other men and women began to spread out, their movements coordinated as they advanced. Professor Reat barely glanced at them before turning to Seth. "Run. Get as far away from here as you can. It'll let me fight without having to protect you."

For an instant, Seth’s feet were rooted in the soil. He didn’t want to run. Partly because of some misplaced pride, but mainly because the thought of leaving Reat behind felt like a betrayal. 

This man had helped him, shielded him from nobles, and mentored him since day one. How could he just turn his back and sprint for safety while the man faced eight Silvers alone? Seth wanted to fight, to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

But the cold, hard truth settled in Seth's gut: he was a liability. If he stayed, Reat would have to take hits to keep him alive. 

The best thing Seth could do was run as far as he could. It would let Reat fight without restrain—and maybe, just maybe, find an opening to flee himself.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Seth spun and burst into a full sprint, heading for the cover of the deeper forest. An instant later, he heard Sergeant Faertis's sharp voice boom behind him, "Go! Get him!"

Seth glanced over his shoulder. One of the noble's lackeys, a man clad in leather armor and wielding two daggers, had broken from the group and was rushing after him. Yet before the pursuer had taken three steps, Professor Reat moved. 

In a blur, a simple wooden staff appeared in his hand and slammed into the assassin's gut. The impact was oddly silent, but a moment later a blast of fire erupted from the point of contact. Flames surged across the man's body as he roared in pain and doubled over. Before he could retaliate, Reat's staff moved once again with lightning speed.

Crack. A strike to the sternum that caved in the pursuer's chest armor. Snap. An upward swing that connected squarely with the chin, shattering bone and lifting the man clean off his feet.

The man was still flying backward when Professor Reat whipped his weapon in a wide arc. A serpent of compressed wind flared from the staff, catching the man mid-air. The moment the creature's jaws snapped shut, the spell detonated into a violent vortex of aether; wind howled like in a raging storm, forcing Seth to raise his arms to shield his face. Branches tore from the few scattered nearby trees, the ground trembled… then the man crashed to the dirt, his lifeless body covered with thousands of bleeding slashes.

Sergeant Faertis and his men’s eyes widened in disbelief. Seth, too, found himself momentarily paralyzed, taken aback by the aura radiating from the Professor. Many had spoken highly of the man at the Adventurers outpost—endless praise—but this was beyond anything Seth had imagined. 

Reat had killed a Silver in seconds. Seconds. 

Before the sergeant and his men could regain their composure, Professor Reat charged into their ranks and a firestorm erupted from his staff, swallowing all of them in a chaotic inferno.

Seth turned and began running once again toward the forest. But after a dozen strides, Feral Instinct surged violently inside him, warning him of an imminent danger. As the other men and women scorched and writhed in the flames, the Paladin who had shattered Renwal's arms burst through the fire in pursuit of Seth.

Seth immediately cast intermediate Identify.

     Nelsor

     Class: Guardian                 Rank: 70 (Low-Silver)

     Subclass: Paladin                         

     Strength: 151                       Arcane Power: 159

     Toughness: 252                   Well Capacity: 231

     Agility: 115                           Regeneration: 192

'No choice but to fight!' Seth bellowed through Link. 'Let's go all out!'

His golden shield radiated a powerful light while he charged toward Seth with terrifying speed. Just as the man was about to ram into his back, Seth cast Shadow Step, vanishing and reappearing behind Nelsor.

Before the man could even understand what had just happened, Colossus sprang out from Seth's necklace with Nightmare. The giant scorpion let out a rippling screech and Chitinous Taunt latched onto the Paladin to forcefully grab the man's focus. 

Nelsor's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets from surprise. 

Not wasting a second, Colossus struck him with a tail, and Deathcoil Venom sank in to sap a portion of his Toughness and Strength. Nightmare followed immediately with Mantle of Terror to add a layer of debuff upon the man. The sudden unnatural fear stalled the Paladin's movements just long enough for the direwolf to Shadow Step behind his target and clamp jaws down on the man's leg.

The dark, corrosive smoke of Gloom Fangs erupted and the Paladin roared in pain—yet the taunt forced him to face Colossus, who rammed into him. A radiant barrier flared into existence as Nelsor tried to shield himself and overpower the scorpion. But Colossus responded in kind, summoning Quartz Armor and Desert Aegis to turn his shell into a layered fortress capable of meeting the man's desperate counterattack head-on.

​​Seeing the clash, Seth felt something raw surged inside him. 

The urge to crush an obstacle that had dared to step onto his Path—one he knew, without a shred of doubt, that he could destroy.

Iron. Silver.

Those distinctions mattered to ordinary people.

And he was done pretending to be one of them.

He would stand above them all. He would make them kneel.

Time to act like it.

Seth roared—a sound closer to a beast’s bellow than a man’s cry—as Beastmaster Rage ignited within him. He lunged forward, Dusk Scythes rising along his forearms. While the Nelsor tried in vain to shatter Colossus' shell, Seth’s blades sizzled through the air and ripped through the aetheric barrier protecting the man's back before carving deep grooves into the enchanted metal beneath. 

He then crossed his arms in a brutal follow-up strike.

The weapon of solidified shadows tore through the Paladin’s armor, and blood sprayed into the air. The man bellowed in agony, and a golden aura flared around him. The aether rushed to mend the worst of the damage while Colossus seized the moment to cast his new spell, Mountain's Reprisal.

The hazel-colored barrier formed over the scorpion's other defensive spells just as he pierced the Paladin with his stinger to reapply the venom debuff.

The protective layer of aether surrounding Nelsor could hold for much longer. Thanks to the bonus attributes of Beastmaster Rage, Nightmare and Seth shredded it in seconds with Dusk Scythes and Gloom Fangs before carving fresh bleeding wounds onto the man's body. 

The Paladin screamed in both pain and fury, and a heartbeat later the Chitinous Taunt finally faded. Nelsor wasted no time and swung his hammer wildly at Seth and Nightmare, trying to hit both at the same time—but they slipped past the blows with ease.

Nightmare countered right away. Chains of Darkness lashed out, and the spell's thorny vines coiled around the Paladin’s legs, slowing him even more. Then Predator Hunt rippled through the air and plunged into the man's ear.

Clenching his jaw, Nelsor raised his hammer, and white, healing aether began to gather around the weapon's head. In response, Colossus slammed into him with Scorpion Charge, breaking his focus and knocking him off balance. Seth and Nightmare seized the occasion to resume their relentless onslaught.

When Dusk Scythes dissipated from Seth's arms a few seconds later, the Paladin, covered in his own blood, spat on the ground. 

"I'll kill fucking—" 

The shimmering brown barrier enveloping Colossus began to vibrate violently. The Paladin's eyes widened, but before he could react, Mountain's Reprisal exploded. 

The blast of Earth aether caught him point-blank. He tried to raise his shield in time, yet the force tore the shield from his grasp and sent him tumbling across the clearing. Seth lunged forward, the spectral gauntlets of Armored Phantom Fists forming around his arms. Just as the man pushed himself to his knees and plunged his hand into his Endless Pouch to grab something—probably an artifact or spell-scroll that could save him—Seth's fist buried itself in his chest. Metal broke first. Bone followed.

The impact happened in a blink, and once the blow fully connected it hurled the Paladin backward. 

The moment the man crashed onto the ground a few yards away, Nightmare was already on him. The direwolf's fangs shredded his throat in a cloud of corroding darkness. The stacking effects of Predator Hunt, Mantle of Terror, Beastmaster Rage, Deathcoil Venom, and Gloom Fangs gave the man no chance.

Seth stepped closer, his chest heaving as core simmered into a cold, lethal satisfaction. The thing wanted him to watch the light die in Nelsor’s eyes.

Just like that, he had killed a Silver Wielder. Not a mindless beast or a monster driven by instinct, but a man—a Rank 70 Paladin with the experience to analyze and counter his attack. 

Such a feat was supposed to be impossible. It was the very reason he had been forced to run, believing himself a liability to Reat. But with the power of the Seeds, his new spells and his synergy with Nightmare and Colossus, the old rules of the world no longer applied to him. 

He was above that.

A surge of confidence washed over him. He could stand by Reat’s side. But just as he began to turn back to rejoin the man, a blistering, oppressive heat rolled over the forest floor, singeing the air in his lungs.

The firestorm from earlier was gone, and the six other lackeys of Sergeant Faertis were scattered across the area, either dead or actively dying. In the center of the clearing, Reat held Lucius's brother by the collar, lifting him partially off the ground. The man was a mess, burned over most of his body, coughing up blood. 

Reat radiated a suffocating, heavy pressure—one that reminded Seth of Orwen's and Drack's. A large grin appeared on Seth's face.

The Battlemancer had broken through inside the Rift. He was now a Gold Wielder.

*****

Seth approached Reat. The man was forcing Sergeant Faertis to his feet by pulling him by his plate armor. The noble's boot barely touched the ground as he gasped, his neck squeezed between Reat's hands and the charred metal. Seth's gaze swept across the other men and women around them.

They were barely recognizable, scorched raw, with black spots covering their faces and exposed skin. Pieces of their armor had melted like wax and fused to the flesh beneath. 

He also may have found a Seed or two in the Rift., Seth thought, unaffected by the scent of burned corpses.

"My father… he knows I'm here," Sergeant Faertis muttered, his words broken by wet, bloody gasps. "He'll know… he'll know you killed me. He will… have your head…”

"Will he?" Professor Reat retorted with a chilling calm. "Your House has allies, true, but do you think they back you out of friendship? Out of loyalty? No. They do it because you provide them value. But what happens when that value disappears? What happens when all the Gold Wielders of your House just… end up dead? Do you think they'll stand up for your father then? Or will they cut their losses and let that ugly emblem of yours disappear forever?"

Reat leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper that was somehow more terrifying than a shout. "You remember my father's execution, don't you, Fredrick? I told you at the time this day would come. I told you I would have my vengeance. Today is you. Tomorrow, it's the rest of your House."

Sergeant Faertis's face contorted in pain as Reat's grip tightened further. With a grunt of disgust, the professor threw Lucius's brother to the ground a few feet away. The man landed in a heap, then tried to crawl away in despair. He knew his life was over, that his past actions were the reason behind it, but he didn't dare to face it. 

Reat raised his hand, then brought it down in a sharp, cutting motion. A pillar of brilliant, roaring flame erupted from the ground, engulfing the crawling man. A scream tore through the air—a raw, visceral, inhuman sound that would haunt most people's nightmares for weeks. Yet Seth felt nothing. 

He watched the flames dance, the man's agonizing cries sounding almost like music to his ears. For what the noble had done, that pain wasn't enough.

The fire surged for a few more seconds before vanishing, revealing a blackened, smoking husk no longer recognizable as Sergeant Faertis. The charred body collapsed, the limbs crumbling into ash that scattered on the breeze.

"Do you really think the Great Houses will just let this go?" Seth asked.

"No. They'll be furious. But only for a few weeks," Reat replied as he turned toward him. "But after that, they won't lift a finger."

"Why?" Seth pressed.

"Because by then, Orwen will have broken through into the Platinum Tier."

Seth's eyes widened. "How can you be so sure?"

"I found something in that Rift," Reat answered. "Something forbidden here, and that would cost a fortune anywhere else. It'll give him the final push he needs." The man gave Seth a knowing look before turning away. "And I suspect your friend the Alchemist knew it would be in there all along. He had full knowledge that this Rift was the key to making the Champions strong enough to stand in front of you. To protect you."

The words made Seth's eyes widen as he reflected on all Marcus’s actions since Seth's awakening. In the beginning, the Alchemist had been almost paranoid, encouraging him to avoid the major cities and keep his head down to prevent people's gaze from falling on him. But somewhere along the way, the strategy had shifted. 

It was as if Marcus had realized that silence was a temporary shield—that not drawing any attention just wasn't possible. And now, he was arming Seth instead of trying to make him hide himself. Perhaps even more importantly, the man was ensuring that when the storm finally broke, he wouldn't be standing alone.

Seth stepped closer to Professor Reat, keeping his voice low as he asked, "That Rift is only an overgrown Silver one. Is there really something in there that could help Orwen? I know that even Copper or Iron Seeds could give a boost in terms of attributes, but would that be enough to make him break through?"

Reat shot him a sharp look, scanning their surroundings before leaning in.

"Avoid talking about Seeds outside of the Champions' headquarters. It’s dangerous. King Theoron is paranoid about them. For good reason."

The man lowered his gaze to one of the bodies ahead. "The effects of Common and Uncommon one quickly become useless with breakthroughs. But those of high-grade ones? They never do. As long as the bonus is a percentage, the effect stays terrifying. Even with the decay."

"Decay?"

"A ten percent bonus at Copper doesn't stay ten percent forever. You lose some of the potency every time you step into a higher Tier." Reat gestured vaguely with his bloodied hand. "Still, it still adds up. You take a squad, stack them with a Copper Seed, two Irons, and three Silvers, all Rare grade... Even with the drop-off, you have a unit that can slaughter an entire legion."

Seth pressed his lips together, feeling the weight of the truth. His own Seeds were already changing everything. "But Orwen is Gold. He can't get in that Rift to get those."

"He doesn't have to," Reat said, absently tapping his pouch. "I managed to secure a few for him."

The man's gaze then drifted past Seth, lost in his thoughts. "I visited Asethka quite a few times over the years with Orwen and only heard of a Rift like this one once. A rich, unexplored one filled with rare resources. A Guild tried to auction it off... people were about to go to war just to get the coordinates."

He scoffed and shook his head. "I still can't wrap my head around the fact that one of those Rifts exists in Kastal. The portal must have just formed... It’s the only explanation."

Reat paused, his brow furrowing as something didn't seem to add up. "But even then... how did your friend know about it? It’s not like he has an army of scouts searching Kastal's land for new Rifts like the King. To pinpoint one, and one this rich..."

Seth looked at the perplexed expression etched on the Professor's face. If only he knew.

Reat hadn't seen the fear Marcus had inspired in Asethka, or the casual way he'd spoken to powerful people like the Oracle Earl. Had the King found the Rift, reported it to Volantis, and Marcus had purchased the rights to explore it? It seemed possible, given the old man’s reach, but Marcus had seemed to hate Volantis. He wouldn't have bought it from them—he would have stolen it. Maybe he paid for the intel?

Seth pushed the speculation aside and glanced at the pouch hanging at Reat's hip. "How did you harvest the Se—the you know what?" he asked, correcting himself quickly. "I mean, how did you put them into your pouch? I couldn't even move them."

"Special containment vessels. Those nullify the high aetheric density," Reat explained, before pausing. His eyes narrowed. "Wait. You said you couldn't move them. Plural. You found more than one?"

Seth froze, realizing the slip. Lying now was pointless. He gave a stiff nod. "Yeah."

"For you and your beasts?"

"One for each of us."

"Good," Reat answered.

For the first time, the Professor’s stern, battle-hardened mask fully dissolved, replaced by an expression of genuine, radiant pride. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a rare, warm smile spread across his face—the look of a man who had gambled everything on a spark and was now watching it grow into a wildfire.

"Keep that secret, though. Don't tell anyone outside the Champions. Not even your friends."

Seth nodded. He remembered the warning from Hector, the manager of the Primalists' Den in Asethka. Seeds were dangerously similar to Legacies in the way they could be harvested from a corpse. That thought was chilling, but the professor's advice confirmed a crucial detail Seth had desperately hoped for: the bonus attributes from Seed weren't visible to others.

Reat looked back at the dark tree line in the direction of the Cave of the Elements. "I'll have Celine organize a team of Silvers to go back in there to harvest all the remaining ones... I don't know how many there are left, but I left at least one behind."

"You think a retrieval team will actually hand it over?" Seth asked, eyeing the dead men on the ground. "Couldn't they just sell it and leave Kastal afterward?"

"That's why we'll use Soul Contracts before they go in," Reat answered. "The kind that kills you if you break the terms."

The man then pointed at the scorched remains of the sergeant's lackeys. "Enough talking for now. Help me strip them. We take anything valuable or usable. Then, we leave."

Seth nodded and walked over to the nearest corpse. If Reat was right—if he truly held something that could help Orwen to break through his plateau—then the cleansing of Kastal's rot might begin far sooner than Seth had ever dared to hope.