CHAPTER 17 - 17: MASKS AND MOTIVES

Arden came across both familiar and unfamiliar beasts as he moved through the outlands.

None of them gave him any trouble. He was already too strong for the first zone.

At this point, it felt more like cleaning up than actual hunting. He cut them down quickly, absorbing life energy and fragments without breaking stride.

The system flared more than once during those encounters.

New Life Signature Acquired:

Phase Step – A short-range blink that bypasses physical obstacles and attacks.

New Life Signature Acquired:

Hunter's Intuition – Increased perception during pursuit or when being pursued.

He nodded with approval as the notifications faded.

Both were practical, and with the way his abilities were evolving, versatility was everything.

His combat style was growing sharper with every kill.

And every fight synced him more with his life energy, refining his instincts.

He also didn't forget the basics. His life tracking skill had grown stronger, much stronger. Now, he could push his awareness far beyond his immediate surroundings, sensing movement like ripples in a pond. And more than sensing, he was learning to channel life energy outward, shaping it to feel and react like an extension of his body.

Eventually, after another quiet night and a light breakfast of dried meat and fruit, he reached the outskirts of Greyhold.

From a distance, the town looked modest. With high walls wrapped tightly around it, not too large, but not exactly poor either.

For an independent town, it was growing well. It wasn't close to the scale of the one his family had ruled, but that was a memory he didn't dwell on anymore.

At the gates, the usual security checks were in place. The guards were alert, but weak.

Arden didn't take any chances. A soft pulse ran through his veins as he activated Shadow Vein Flex, letting his presence blend into the background.

He moved clean past the gate in seconds, not a sound, not a trace. Only when he was safely inside the busy street did he let the concealment fade.

"Can't have anyone linking me to the Caelum name," he muttered, brushing some dust off his coat. That family had too many enemies, and right now, he wasn't strong enough to face all of them at once.

Greyhold's streets were lively, filled with adventurers, traders, and townsfolk going about their day.

He kept his hood low and made his way to the Adventurer's Guild without drawing attention.

Inside, the receptionist at the desk looked up as he approached. She was neat, professional, and clearly used to people twice his size trying to impress her. She gave a polite nod.

"Can I help you?"

Arden gave a short smile. "Yeah, lost my ID in the outlands. Need a replacement."

She narrowed her eyes a bit, probably used to that excuse, but didn't question it too much. Greyhold sat on the edge of the outlands. Anyone who made it here likely had the strength to back up their words. And anyone trying to lie wouldn't pick such a specific story.

"Alright, name?"

"Kael," he said, offering a name he hadn't heard in a long time. But it was common enough to pass.

He gave the rest of the false details without hesitation — D rank vein quality, fire affinity. Enough to stay low while still getting access to the guild's services.

In less than ten minutes, she handed him a simple silver badge with a thin red line through the center. "Here's your new ID."

He pocketed it without fuss. "Thanks."

As a registered member, he could now trade beast materials without issue. He placed a few large sacks on the counter and carefully picked parts from his recent hunts.

"Two duskfang wolf pelts, a set of steel boar tusks, venom sacs from a dusk crawler, and some fragments from a C-rank armored bearling," he listed calmly.

The receptionist raised a brow. "C-rank materials? You said you're D rank."

"I'm lucky," he said with a straight face.

She paused, watching him for a moment, then sighed and started the calculations. "Right. Lucky."

When she was done, she slid a small bag of coins across the counter. "That's twelve thousand sen."

He gave a short nod as he collected the bag. "Appreciate it."

She watched as he turned and walked out. His steps were relaxed, but there was a weight in the way he moved. Calm, confident, and focused. She tilted her head slightly.

"He walks like a noble..." she muttered to herself, then shook it off. "No noble comes to this side of the kingdom. And not with a D-rank talent."

Still, she kept watching until he disappeared into the crowd.

After the trade, Arden didn't waste time. He slipped back into the streets, weaving through the bustle of Greyhold.

There were stalls lining the road, selling everything from dried meat to poorly dyed tunics, but he focused on what he came for, supplies he'd actually use in the outlands.

He picked up a few things: fresh water skins, smoked meat, a bundle of seasoning spices, and some flatbread and vegetables that looked like they could last a few days without going bad. It wasn't much, but it would make things easier while camping. He also bought a pair of larger storage bags. The old ones were already wearing thin, and with the way he hunted, he'd need all the space he could get.

Next stop was the weapons vendor.

He had a good sword already, but curiosity still drew him to the stalls. He scanned through racks of weapons, they were spears, curved blades, even a few crude gauntlets, but none caught his interest. A gauntlet was tempting for close combat, but it didn't beat the sword he had at hand.

His blade let him move with precision, and of course he preferred killing clean.

Just when he was about to leave, something strange caught his eye — a mask, plain yet oddly shaped, sitting alone on a velvet cloth.

He pointed at it. "What's with the mask?"

The seller, a middle-aged man with a crooked smile, leaned forward like he'd been waiting to be asked. "New design from the Artificer Guild. Illusion mask. Alters your face completely once you feed it a bit of Aether. Expensive, but no one sees the real you. Pretty useful for people who want to keep a low profile."

Arden kept a straight face. "How much?"

"Eight thousand sen."

His jaw tightened for a second. That was almost everything he had left.

Still, his mind was already made. If anyone recognized his face — a bounty hunter, or worse, someone tied to the previous host, it wouldn't matter how strong he got. He couldn't fight the world just yet.

"Wrap it up."

After the purchase, he stepped aside and tried the mask on. It tightened around his face like a second skin before loosening again. He activated it with a trickle of his energy. In the mirror shard the vendor handed him, a different face looked back — not too dramatic, just different enough to avoid a second glance. He nodded once and walked off.

Time to leave.

As he made his way past the outer stalls, toward the path that would lead back into the outlands, he felt it. His Hunter's intuition kicking in

A faint pulse. Life energy. Not natural.

He didn't break pace, but his senses tracked it. Someone was following him. No, two people. Close, quiet, but sloppy. They moved when he moved, hesitated when he slowed.

He gave a soft smile.

"Should've picked someone else," he muttered.

Then, with a casual turn, he slipped into a narrow alley between two shuttered shops.

And waited.

A/N:

Send powerstones, And Engage by leaving comments and Reviews

Thanks