Chapter 779 (1/2)

“So we do nothing,” Shal said with a frown. Knowing that the greater leadership of the Death School had fallen… it made his hand twitch. The loss of life… Spears were the ultimate tools to protect. He had such a spear, one he prided himself on using, and now Ophelia demanded that they stay here and simply allow it to happen?

“We cannot leave,” Ophelia said. She would not meet Shal’s gaze. “Although it is difficult to understand, our activities here are so much more important to the fate of Tellus than a minor struggle to save a handful of lives in the fallout. Likely, all those who were there are already dead. Their parts have been used to create another Wight army.”

“Why are we so bound? Is the Northern group truly so antagonistic to Hastam?” Shal’s gaze was sharp. “It makes no sense. What does Hastam matter? We are losing the war. Entire Schools are falling. The Spearsource is gone-”

Shal paused. If anything, the focus of his gaze became even more cutting. “...that is what this is about, isn’t it? The Spearsource. It was always said to have been taken from Hastam… but it is here?”

Ophelia’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “...we cannot be sure. But it is the only possibility that makes sense. For all Versault’s… abilities, he would not be able to spirit it away without leaving traces. Yet nothing has been found. We believe that he simply hid it somewhere in Hastam before blaming the Wights. It is entirely possible that... Versault has gone completely rogue and is on his way now to Hastam to claim it. Without his support, the Death School had no chance. Or perhaps the entire silence from the Death School is a ruse to lure us from Hastam.”

Shal rubbed his hands together, trying to gather the truth from the tidbits that were fed to him by Ophelia. Too many pieces. Too many secrets and alliances behind the scenes. He truly couldn’t gather enough in any semblance of a picture. Every time he discovered another piece it simply seemed to be a piece from a larger game altogether.

“Do you truly believe that? Tell me, Ophelia. I am owed an explanation.”

Ophelia’s face seemed to sag. “Two secrets, then. The first you have already guessed; the war against the Wights is a sham. Even now, it is designed to sharpen our people. To create the ultimate spear user. Many are sacrificed on that altar, but-”

She stopped that line of thought, seeing the dangerous expression on Shal’s face. Instead, she coughed lightly and continued. “The other secret is that the Spearsource is ultimately a vestige of the Spearman himself. Not just a legacy; it is him. It is all of his images and Skills, condensed into a physical form. There was… a tragic accident, right before the Spearman was to ascend, granting Tellus eternal peace and prosperity. To maintain all he had created, the Spearman sacrificed himself to preserve that power. That is why spear Skills are so easy to learn on Tellus. The Spearman left his heritage for us all.”

Shal frowned. “So everyone… attempts to become this pinnacle warrior? If the Spearsource was stolen, should not the person who stole it have used it to become a great fighter?”

“Yes. If they could… they definitely would have. But few others have the means.” Ophelia said shortly. Her expression was bitter.

Slowly, Shal parsed her silence apart. Then, whoever stole the Spearsource was not someone who was trying to become this pinnacle warrior. They were instead… an antagonistic force? Or someone who was trying to prevent a different faction from getting a pinnacle warrior? Of all his frantic thoughts, that was the one that felt the truest. Because it was the ugly truth at the heart of most people’s tragedies.

It was all politics. To have the pinnacle warrior on your side… a faction, as such, would become the ruling order. Or at least Shal expected it to be so, based upon how grave Ophelia’s expression was.

Ophelia’s hands tightened on the wooden table. She still stared straight downward, refusing to look up at Shal. A very chilling thought slipped into his mind, insidious and serpentine.

“You believe,” Shal said slowly. “This was done… to prevent another pinnacle warrior from ascending. That it was hidden to allow someone, in particular, to arrive when they are ready to ascend. This is a delaying tactic.”

Ophelia nodded. “There are certain… criteria for ascension. They are difficult criteria. You must have reached Level 99… with a Great Path open to you.”

Another piece. The thought in the back of Shal’s mind grew to dominate his whole consciousness. He breathed in and breathed out without any change in expression. It was a truth that upon him, but the most surprising factor was his lack of surprise.

“I am the chosen warrior,” Shal said simply. “This was done… to block me from becoming the pinnacle individual. That is why we must stay here, because you suspect the Spearsource remains in Hastam, hidden. That is why we cannot let others of any power into the city, because they might take it for themselves. We dare not trust others.”

Ophelia didn’t answer. But that was enough.

“How long have you been grooming me for this?” Shal asked. The more he reflected on his life, the more strange and convoluted it became. The experience of his parents, his brother, the rumors of the devourer, the strange darkness and confusion that descended upon him for fifty years, his chance meeting with Randidly, training Randidly, Randidly introducing him to the truth of his half-blood existence, the debt to go to the prison and the sudden war that gave him the excuse to avoid it, the rapid promotions, being placed as one of Ophelia’s lieutenants…

Shal’s voice was much rougher the second time he asked the question. “How long have you been grooming me for this?”

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