Chapter 454: Chapter 454 Rank Advancent [2]
A Few Hours Earlier
Far to the north of Thornvale, nestled deep within a lavish estate overlooking a fog-slicked lake, Count Hallen swirled a goblet of aged wine in his hand.
He was not a man easily rattled.
Cunning, calculating, and pragmatic to a fault—he had long since discarded things like sentint and idealism. To him, power was a ledger.
Still… Thornvale troubled him.
“Viscount Mic,” Hallen muttered under his breath, tasting the na like bitter ash. “A boy.”
He rose from his seat, the hem of his embroidered robe brushing over polished marble tiles. His study was quiet, the only sounds the low crackle of the hearth and the soft flick of paper as a servant replaced a docunt on the desk nearby.
The na had appeared only a week ago in his reports. Not from Helmric—of course not. That rat would never what truly happens outside thornvale.
But the Duke’s seal had confird it.
A new Viscount.
A child barely past manhood.
One who had supposedly wielded power approaching the Grand Tier.
Hallen exhaled slowly through his nose.
He wasn’t afraid. Not truly.
He, too, stood at the Grand Tier—a result not of talent, but of resources.
Thornvale had served him well over the past two years, its golden veins fattening his coffers while the rot within it was carefully cultivated, then contained. He had no intention of surrendering that river of gold to so wide-eyed upstart.
Still…
“It’s always the ones who don’t understand the rules that ruin the ga,” Hallen muttered, gaze hardening.
The boy had already taken the manor. Helmric was as good as discarded. That was unfortunate. He’d been loyal in his own pathetic way—greedy, yes, but easy to manage.
This new Viscount, though?
If he truly had power above his station…
Then he was dangerous.
Not because he was experienced. But because he was reckless.
“A child with strength is more unpredictable than a general with a sword,” Hallen said aloud.
The servant nearby stiffened but said nothing.
The Count turned back to the window, watching the grey clouds swirl above the treetops outside.
He would not act yet.
No.
Let the boy make the first move.
Let him dig. Let him stumble.
And when he inevitably overstepped?
Then Hallen would remind him of his place.
He took a long sip of wine.
“Enjoy your little seat, boy,” Hallen whispered. “Soon, you’ll learn what it truly costs to sit on gold.”
Count Hallen set his goblet down with a soft clink, the echo ringing faintly through the silent chamber.
He did not turn as he spoke.
“Call Osric.”
A quiet shuffle of boots on marble followed, and monts later, a man in a dark leather coat appeared in the study’s doorway. His face was thin and pale, more shadow than skin, with eyes like pinpricks of ice. He said nothing—he never did unless ordered to speak.
Hallen finally turned.
“I want eyes on Thornvale,” the Count said coldly.
Osric bowed his head slightly.
“Form a cell,” Hallen continued. “Quiet and untraceable. I don’t want them making contact—just watching. And if this Viscount Mic steps even a finger out of line…”
He let the words hang.
Osric gave a slight nod. “Understood.”
The Count stepped closer, voice dropping.
“No more complacency. Helmric’s days are likely over. This one might not be so easy to gut.”
He paused, staring into the assassin’s dead eyes.
“But we’ll see.”
Osric lted back into the shadows without another word, vanishing as though he’d never been there.
The study grew still again.
Count Hallen walked to the hearth and stared into the flas. His reflection flickered, warped by heat and smoke.
*
Staring at the glowing number on his panel, Michael could barely suppress the smile tugging at his lips.
[Evolution Points: 4,358]
It was a lot.
Enough, in fact, to push the number of extraordinary-rank undead under his command past thirty.
Michael shifted his focus, eyes flicking to a different section of his status screen.
[Advancent Quest]
{Have 10 Rank 2 Undead: 2/10}
A wry chuckle escaped his throat.
It reminded him of when he was still unranked. Back then, he had completed his first advancent quest not just barely, but with excess. Surpassing the minimum requirent had earned him a Perfect rating and five bonus levels upon advancing.
Now, he was aiming for the sa—if not more.
He had awakened far later than his peers, most of whom had taken their first steps one or even two years before him. And while he was now stronger than the vast majority of them, raw power alone wasn’t enough for him.
Michael’s fingers hovered for a mont before closing the panel.
“I wonder,” he murmured, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Is there a rating higher than Perfect?”
The thought lit a fire in his chest. If such a rating existed—and if he achieved it—the resulting growth might be… unimaginable.
Still, he frowned.
“4,358 points isn’t quite enough.”
He needed more.
Fortunately, he had a solution.
With a flick of his wrist, he summoned an item from his storage space. A translucent vial materialized in his hand, filled with a shimring, pale-blue liquid that swirled with a life of its own.
A Spirit Liquid Potion.
But not the sa kind he used back when he was unranked.
This one was different.
A Rank 4 item within Aurora’s cultivation system. Which translated to a Rank 2 equivalent for Awakeners like him.
He had tested them before. On average, a single vial could grant anywhere from 30 to 50 evolution points—depending on his absorption state and quality of the potion itself.
And though acquiring them hadn’t been easy…
Michael’s smile returned as he glanced at the neatly stacked rows of vials within his storage ring.
One hundred.
It had taken days of effort, careful trades, and the full extent of his limited connections within Aurora to collect them.
But now, he held in his possession enough fuel to add another 3,000 to 5,000 evolution points.
That should be more than enough.
Even if a rating higher than Perfect was impossible, Perfect itself felt nearly guaranteed now.
Michael raised the vial to eye level, watching the liquid glow faintly under the moonlight streaming through his window.
And with that, he tilted his head back and drank.
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