Chapter 340: Chapter 340

And, with that revelation, Koyu vanished.

It may have been more accurate to say that he walked through the wall of the Infernal Armory, muttering something about needing a drink. Arwin barely noticed. Several minutes had already passed by the time he realized the Lich had left. He’d been staring at the Soul Guardian, half waiting for it to lurch to life.

A child? This is a child?

Logically, Arwin was pretty sure that Koyu had been exaggerating. He highly doubted he’d made a child in the literal sense of the world. He might have spent the majority of his teenage years at war, but he wasn’t that out of touch.

The whole purpose of the core had been to give the materials a way to fully manifest their desires in the world. It was the heart and soul of whatever it was put into. In this case, that was a [Soul Guardian].

If Koyu’s words were right… then this was the next logical step beyond that. He hadn’t just given the armor a way to influence the world. He had pulled out the desires themselves and formed them into one, coherent being.

It was an amalgamation of energy from his soul and the will of his components. And, if he understood everything correctly, then the [Soul Guardian] was really more akin to a very estranged cousin than a child.

Arwin let his hand rest on the breastplate of the armor. Warm heat met his touch. It was… strange. He could feel something almost familiar, as if it were his own hand he was feeling, but at the same time, it was something else entirely.

And there was something else there too.

This was not how he’d been expecting the visit to Milten to go. Every card had been in his favor. He should have been the one in control.

Now, he couldn’t tell if he ever had been.

Rodrick’s threat about their father had been correct. He’d put word in with the assassin’s guild in search of information and had received it a day later. Everything the man had said was true. There had been a hit out for Duke Aleric — a hit that had been called off due to an increased threat to the assassins bringing the threat level of the job above what had been paid for.

It had been easy to get the information. Too easy.

I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t be surprised if Rodrick himself was the one that put the hit out for my father. This is too clean. Too neatly wrapped up… and he’s good enough to have covered his tracks better if he’d wanted to.

But why wouldn’t he ask for anything more? He completely outplayed me. We were so overextended that he could have asked for anything he wanted and we’d have been forced to give it to him. He knew we wouldn’t sacrifice dad. We could have been forced to drop out of the Proving Grounds… but all he wants us to do is keep Arwin’s identity a secret?

Art blew out a heavy breath and slumped over the back of the chair. “I don’t know. I’m trying to figure out what Rodrick’s motive is, but I’m drawing a blank. I don’t know what he’s playing at.”

“Could he just be being honest?” Vix asked. “What if he really just doesn’t want Arwin’s identity getting out there? I mean…”

“Why wouldn’t they want to reveal that?” Art demanded. “It doesn’t make any sense. Sure, it would be embarrassing for the Guild for them to admit that the former Hero isn’t actually so former, but it should be a celebration! People would flock to him. The war needs him. The kingdom—”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be in the war.”

Art blinked. “He’s the Hero.”

“Heroes get tired,” Vix said quietly. “Everyone does, eventually. Maybe he got fed up having to fight for his life every day and never seeing anything come from it. We haven’t gained a damn inch of land since the war started. Who can blame him for wanting to retire?”

Art’s brow furrowed and he looked down at his hands through the slats on the back of the chair. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m working with a broken mirror and only seeing half the reflection.”

“That’s not how mirrors work, Arty.”

Art rolled his eyes. “Whatever. And don’t call me Arty. That’s even worse than what father came up with, and he already butchered my name for life.”

“I suppose it could be worse,” Art admitted. He tapped his good foot on the ground and let out what must have been the hundredth sigh that day. “What do you think?”

“Me? I’m just a killer, Art. I don’t think. I do.”

“Bullshit. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m a sword,” Vix said. “You’re the hand. Wield me.”

“You’re lazy is what you are.”

The corner of Vix’s lip quirked up in amusement. “Maybe a bit. Thinking takes a lot of energy, and I don’t have much of that left to spare.”

Art’s foot stopped tapping. “Are you—”

“I’m fine, Art.” Vix raised her hands. “Don’t jump on me. I didn’t mean I was dying already. I’m alive. I’m just tired. That’s all.”

He squinted suspiciously at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” Vix’s words were firm. Possibly too firm. She glared at him and shook her head. “If you want my opinion that bad, then I say Rodrick was honest. I don’t think he’s trying to play us. He meant everything he said — including the part where we got invited to dinner.”

“To poison us,” Art muttered.

“Possibly,” Vix agreed with a grin. “There isn’t a poison that’ll be able to get past me, though.”

“No,” Art agreed thoughtfully. “There isn’t. That’s true. Perhaps I’m approaching this wrong. We need more information.”

“You want me to spy on them?”