The carriage driver.

  Being an outskirt rat from a bloodline of no renown, who had climbed to his position through sheer effort and skill - he had no formal family name to speak of.

  So, he simply went by Connor.

  Connor was rather unique, though that much is a given; an Apex level master working in the transport industry, after all, couldn’t be farther from the norm.

  Plus, he had worked for some very high ranking nobles back in his younger days, and was therefore painfully familiar with their oddities.

  All that is to say, Connor had experienced his fair share of unusual - if not downright bizarre - situations.

  …And yet, the one he’d found himself in this time just had to take first place for the craziest circumstances, to date.

  How could it not, really?

  On his right, an extremely suspicious man sat with what must’ve been one hell of an expression; said man’s face, however, was hidden behind a veil of impermeable black fog.

  To his left… Well, it was the same story.

  Another man, sitting without moving so much as a muscle, like a statuette.

  Then, there was the back row of seats; three more of those men, all eerily similar to each other in their murky presence, were neatly arranged shoulder to shoulder with what was, perhaps, the most bizarre individual out of everyone within the carriage.

  No, I’ll think about the kid later…

  First and foremost, Connor desperately wanted to figure out how the hell he’s ended up in the same carriage with ‘Them’ - and as the one doing the driving, at that.

  Of course, Connor knew who these men were. Not their identities, per say, but rather their affiliation.

  They were, without a doubt, members of the Black Lake Syndicate; a ruthless group, know for practicing a sole, forbidden art.

  Also known as the Black Lake Healers, they all possessed the ability to heal each other from any wounds, barring on instant death.

  It was a brutal combat style, reliant on a complete disregard of personal safety. They threw their bodies away with incredible ferocity, coming out unscathed no matter who their opponent was.

  Simply put - the Black Lake Healers were effectively immortal, at least when working in a large enough group.

  Granted, their essence also had its limits, but you’d be hard pressed to find a person with enough endurance to burn through it.

  …And then, there was Connor - a powerful man, by all means - sitting in a stupor with beads of sweat rolling down his checks.

  Urgh, I should’ve declined the kid’s offer on the spot. Hell, it’s not like I didn’t realize that something about him was off, but my darn curiosity got the best of me!

  Finally, Connor’s thoughts shifted to the one at fault for this mess:

  A young man, with a face youthful enough to be called boyish.

  And yet, he was perhaps the most threatening person out of everyone inside the carriage.

  To have read my level at a glance…

  It would’ve been understandable, had some well known powerhouse done it.

  But for a mere young master, barely grazing the edge of adulthood?

  Ahh, this is driving me crazy!

  The idea that this conspicuous kid was somehow more powerful than Connor seemed absurd, no matter which way you spun it.

  Still, extra evidence was entirely unnecessary.

  After all, the Black Lake Syndicate appeared to be monitoring him, as was clear from their unfriendly demeanor.

  It would’ve been fair to wonder how the the kid had even managed to detect the presence of the surveyors, had he not shown his overwhelming strength earlier.

  Eventually, feeling like all this thinking was becoming too burdensome, Connor exhaled a defeated sigh:

  Well, what can I do? I’ll just faithfully fulfill my duty as a driver, sights set straight.

  -Is what Connor thought.

  Though, the intangible weight of his six passengers still pressed heavily on his mind.

  ***

  Two hours earlier.

  The Black Lake Healers followed their target without a hitch, keeping their distance as instructed by the sorcerer.

  It felt like an unnecessary amount of caution, but they were not ones to complain about such matters.

  In their line of sight, over a hundred meters ahead, their target slowed his steps and began surveying the surroundings, eyes portraying little emotion.

  After standing still for several seconds, he suddenly moved again, this time to approach a carriage driver.

  At that distance, his voice couldn’t be heard, so their leader, Thirteenth, made a decision.

  Our headman will definitely punish us if we miss anything vital.

  His eyes pressed together as he rapidly considered his options.

  We were told not to get close though… In that case, now would be a good time to deploy a Veil of Darkness.

  With those thoughts, Thirteenth moved his hand. His fingers took on a peculiar shape, wordlessly conveying two distinct messages.

  The first was an order to close in, while the second one simply represented the Veil of Darkness technique.

  Seeing the signal, Fourteenth nodded before quickly turning his head towards the rest of the pursuit team and showing them the same hand signal as Thirteenth did.

  As syndicate members, their ranking and position was all that mattered, thus their old names were discarded in favor of a simple numbering system.

  The particular men assigned to tail this kid were dubbed Thirteenth through to Eighteenth.

  In other words, these five men were amongst the fist - and therefore most experienced - members.

  However, with such strength came another inevitability.

  Arrogance.

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  The veil of darkness was a simple technique. It was a way of manifesting essence as an undetectable substance that cloaked anything within, so as long as their essence remained unseen, their physical forms would, too.

  And that was their biggest mistake; relying on ‘invisible’ essence.

  While the Black lake healers kept distance, the target had no way of pinpointing their exact location.

  But, as soon as they made they decision to draw closer…

  Shit.

  …A penetrating gaze landed on them.

  The healers, though slightly taken aback, kept their composure.

  Our sorcerer was right. The kid’s essence perception is monstrous.

  Still, it is safe to assume that all the kid felt was a hunch, instinctual in nature. This much is alright.

  Is what Thirteenth told himself.

  That was, until-

  “Yo, my dear friends~ Care to show yourselves?”

  “!!?”

  -The target’s voice rung out, clear as day.

  His cheery tone with a thick underlying malice, and the pair of lifeless eyes, were directed solely at them.

  He had, unmistakably, detected them.

  …We’ve been busted.

  The numbered men, despite their immense strength, had been caught by a mere child.

  But, that wasn’t their biggest concern. Not in the slightest.

  No, they were scared of the one who’d assigned them the mission in the first place.

  The Black Lake Syndicate Head, Dren.

  For a split second, a ridiculous thought crossed Thirteenth’ mind:

  Aren’t we… Dead? Like, for real?

  If word of this situation got out, well… Nevermind a scolding, they were at risk of being outright executed.

  And so, having no other choice, the five men reluctantly revealed their presence with a singular goal in mind.

  No matter what, we absolutely must convince the kid to stay quiet.

  And if cooperation doesn’t pan out, then we’ll have to silence him directly.

  Cruel as it was, the numbered men valued their lives much more than that of a mere target.

  Finally, they made their way towards the kid, standing there alongside the cart driver.

  ***

  I kept still, patiently waiting for the five men to arrive.

  For a split second, an uncomfortable aura radiated from them, before vanishing just as swiftly.

  What the fuck? Ain’t it rude, to feel my strength out so blatantly?

  …Mm, I’m not really one to talk.

  My brows furrowed in displeasure, but I didn’t dwell on it for long; instead, I took note of the action, letting it simmer as something to mull over at a later time.

  Curiously, none of the regular humans so much as glanced their way, as if their existence itself was a lie.

  Makes sense why they’re moving so slow, I guess. Must be busy up-keeping that strange barrier which makes them so damn hard to see.

  That said, the cart driver was staring at them with a befuddled expression.

  If my guess is correct, they’ve probably lowered the strength of the barrier, making it so only people with a decent level could detect them.

  As we watched their approaching figures, the driver eventually broke the silence:

  ”The friends you mentioned… Were Black Lake Healers..?”

  He asked in an unsteady voice, as if struggling to comprehend the sight before him.

  Hmm, so he’s familiar with the syndicate? Wait, if even I know about them, they must be pretty famous.

  “As you can see.”

  I responded in a flat tone.

  ”But… Why were they following you?”

  “Shit man, I’d like to know as well.”

  “What, so you don’t know either?”

  It seemed like my attempts to explain the situation, which I myself didn’t understand one bit, put the driver into an even greater stupor.

  ”Uh huh.”

  ”..?”

  “Don’t sweat it, old man. We can just ask them, can’t we?”

  *Fwoosh*

  Right on cue, the five men finally reached us.

  The one in the forefront, probably the group’s leader, let out a faint wave of energy to get our attention.

  I turned my head back to face him, an impassive expression on my face. The intent behind it was obvious - explain yourselves.

  “We are a unit of the Black Lake Syndicate; call me Thirteenth.”

  Fortunately, they didn’t seem intent on causing a ruckus, as the introduction was rather polite.

  ”Yeah, no shit. Who else would walk around with such a gloomy coat draped over them? Tsk, whatever - what about the other four?”

  I chose to ignore the fact that I, myself, was wearing just as shady of an outfit.

  ”…Fourteenth through Eighteenth.”

  Thirteenth hesitated for a moment, perhaps taken aback by my rash language, but responded properly regardless.

  “That’s quite the convenient naming system, ain’t it? If I had to learn five entire names right now, I might’ve just refused… Ah, right. I’m Ori.”

  I spoke in the most irritating tone I could, which I’d of course learned thanks to my late friend.

  ”Understood.”

  And yet, they didn’t get aggressive despite my provocation.

  If anything-

  *Thump*

  -They were actually displaying signs of fear, as was evidenced by their uneven heart rates.

  That fear, however, wasn’t directed at me nor the carriage driver.

  Whatever the reason, I won’t refuse a free point of leverage.

  I smiled internally, before deciding to get to the point.

  ”So, my dear Healers. Mind explaining why you’d been following me for the past couple of days? Don’t think I’d done anything to warrant surveillance from such a scary syndicate.”

  Thirteenth opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off mid breath.

  ”Wait.”

  What’s this now?

  The one who interrupted him was none other than the driver.

  I eyed him with a squint.

  ”Since this seems like a it’s going to be a long conversation, why don’t we continue in the carriage?”

  “Hmm.”

  I let out an approving hum. The driver, however, interpreted that as skepticism:

  ”Ehh, my bad. Forget I said anything. I’m sure you must have a good reason for holding the confrontation here, Kid. *Ahem* I meant Ori.”

  He scratched his head with an awkward smile.

  The hell’s he on about?

  “What? No, I just forgot. Let’s giddy up, or whatever it is I’m meant to say.”

  “…Huh?”

  All six men turned their heads towards me with faces of disbelief.

  “Aight, stop starting already. I’m not into men, but this much attention might just make me blush.”

  “??”

  ”…?”

  *Flutter*

  Without waiting for their responses, I hopped onto the carriage with deliberately loud steps. My cloak billowed in the wind, nearly revealing the skin beneath.

  The ridiculously conspicuous group, realizing they had little choice in the matter, soon followed suit.

  As I felt around the carriage - looking for a spot with as little sunlight coverage as possible - a stream of thoughts ran through my mind.

  The Black Lake Healers are meant to be intimidating, but these five aren’t like that at all.

  Chocking it up to their character would’ve been downright stupid.

  After all, I felt their blatant tension ever since the moment they showed their faces.

  Which, of course, meant that there was something - someone - else, threatening enough to make them act coy in front of me.

  If I had to wager a guess, that ‘someone’ probably wouldn’t let them off the hook, were their failure to surface.

  Now, that might’ve sounded like a massive leap of logic… And it was… But I had good grounds for drawing such a conclusion:

  As well as these healers kept their emotions and essence in check, their attempt at sizing me up didn’t slip my mind.

  And even showing themselves like this, out in the open; all of it pointed to their true intent.

  Silencing me.

  They gaged whether I was powerful enough to take them on in a fight and, having determined that I wasn’t, felt safe to play along with my demands.

  In other words, if persuasion doesn’t work, the good ole plan B certainly will.

  It was refreshingly straightforward.

  But then again, all of this is just a load of guesses, based on nothing but my senses as a Threadripper.

  Does all this crap even matter, though? We’ve got three days together, in a tightly packed carriage, ahead of us.

  I finally realized that my overthinking was an unnecessary waste of time.

  Who cares if I’m utterly clueless? My precious bags of knowledge are right here with me.

  “Ain’t that right, friends?”

  ”Uh, sorry?”

  I graced the three healers sitting beside me with a reassuring smile.

  For some reason, though, I sensed their alertness spike instead.

  That, along with some confusion.

  Well, it’s only natural. Only a select few can grasp the vast extent of my words.

  *Drip*

  Huh? Oh.

  Without realizing it, I’d started clawing at my neck once again, only noticing my actions once a drip of blood hit the carriage’s floorboards.

  It made me fell pathetic, really.

  All this effort to put my mind at ease, with constant lighthearted jokes and a laid back internal monologue, just for my body to betray my internal state.

  ‘Can’t fool the heart’, as humans say… Guess there’s some truth to that statement.

  I forcefully lowered my arm, covering the wounds with a collar in the process.

  Ahh, this is going to be one damn long drive.

  With those thoughts, I pulled out my trusty notepad and a small pouch, containing a vial of ink and a feather.

  At the same time, following some creaking noises, the carriage’s wheel began rolling across the ground.

  I glanced backwards one more time, eyes landing on the shady dudes, but quickly diverted my gaze and got down to work.

  Thinking about this and that…

  It’s too much for me.

  And so, just like I’d done over and over for the past three hundred days - ever since escaping from the spawn of hell that was Vaynar Nether - I hid from my emotions behind an endless wall of schemes and plans.

  Masking a lack of direction with determination; exhaustion with willpower; weakness with strength; grief with anger.

  Perhaps my appearance wasn’t the only immature thing about me.

  Because, how else would you describe this behavior of mine, if not utterly childish?

  A grown man, hiding from reality behind a thick stack of papers.

  A grown man, scared of facing the consequences of his own actions.

  Thats who I truly was:

  An immature kid, portraying himself as an adult.

  But how long can one keep up a facade this thick?

  I didn’t know. Nor did I want to know.

  All I wished for was to meet my end before that facade inevitably crumbled.

  And for that…

  For that, I will use everything and everyone at my disposal to see my enemies through to Hell’s gates.

  Aren’t I simply the world’s best friend? Sure hope you think so, Kaela.

  A layer of detachment glazed over my dimly red eyes.

  The carriage quietly rolled along.