Infinite Body Prince-Chapter 101: Twain

Intrigued, Hadrian tracked them with his eyes as they left, then sent his bird vessels to circle the spot.

His wings spread and black eyes reflected the sea water.

The waves were restless, but apart from that, there was nothing.

The strange presence in the atmosphere was gone too.

Altering his sight to his essence view, he was only disappointed.

His right eyebrow rose as the bird Hadrians descended closer to the surface of the sea, spreading spatial sense and using heat view.

After three more minutes of bird Hadrians circling, He rose from the cliff and called them back.

Strange lands indeed.

He thought as he dusted himself off, heading back in the direction of the city.

He glanced up at the myriad stars in the night sky, appreciating the beauty.

…

The next day, Hadrian found himself at the docks.

The sun gently shone down his neck, his black hair restless.

The chains of ships rattled and carts moved bags of different produce, spices and exotic animals, loading and unloading them.

Horns blew, men yelled at each other in different accents, the air filled with all sorts of perfume scents and smells.

Hadrian bit down on a juicy red fruit.

Tai, the man who'd sold it to him, had called it.

It had a slight sour taste to it.

Taking a step to the left, he let a cart of spices pass.

Hadrian watched all this with youthful curiosity.

With magic in the world, one would expect it to be extensively used.

However, Regular humans needed their own institutions. After all, they outnumbered mages to the millions.

Gritjor, for example, had a population of eight million and in the battle outside the wall, their forces didn't reach a thousand.

And Twain seemed to be larger than Gritjor.

Apart from the numbers issue, incapable of always relying on mages, it was also a matter of why would a mage go out their way, when they could have a good enough life with half the work.

In that, he agreed with what Haldon had said concerning Bagdona running such a business as a rank three. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Hadrian stepped on a puddle.

Though it was sunny, everywhere managed to be wet.

As he made his way out the docks, he got a premonition.

His consciousness drifted to Haldon.

Apart from irregular check ups, since Haldon and Baruch were their own people, he didn't observe at all times.

It wasn't out of respect, but serving the purpose of having a specialised vessel.

Listening to Haldon's prayer filled with suppressed bitterness, he chuckled.

Right.

He'd let himself get carried away last night, forgetting Haldon couldn't speak the language either.

Connecting Haldon to the local man vessel, his consciousness retreated from Haldon.

Knowledge trickled down into Haldon's mind and his brow creased, his lips slightly parting.

He was dressed in a brown shirt, black trousers and light black footwear.

As a rank two of the space path, he always carried spares, and could not stay in his clothes from the previous night soaked with blood.

Using the death sickle, he'd gotten rid of them, together with the part of the roof covered with blood.

Actually, he was surprised he was allowed to keep the death sickle, a rank three artifact.

Admittedly, after last night, his confidence had plummeted.

Learning someone could take over your body in an instant and at will was a terrifying reality to live in.

Of course, he wasn't completely defeated, and wouldn't give up looking for an opportunity to free himself.

Gently, he caressed his missing arm stump, his eyes narrowing.

It didn't hurt, and seemed to be completely healed. But he'd had an arm before.

Being powerless like that infuriated him.

With a brief close of his eyes, he let out a sigh and walked out of the alley he'd prayed in.

With all his vessels being one, naturally, Hadrian could share the knowledge of the language.

Subtly, he sent Haldon a revelation to inquire about the ritual too.

After a few hours of exploring and investigating, enjoying a hot meal, he'd gotten a better grasp of Twain.

They had a strong culture of fertility, beauty and the sea.

Magic seen performed was primarily in a similar domain, though other mages existed.

The life path, was Hadrian's conclusion.

Haldon's innate knowledge was limited but with his skills and experience, he'd managed to do most of the work.

The ritual, he'd learned, took place every week, and a big one at the end of each month, with one coming up at the end of next week.

A big one?

Hadrian observed passersby as he thought.

In the future, my vessels could do most of the work for me.

A fleeting thought. If he did that, relying only on his specialized vessels, he would certainly grow complacent.

Twain would be good to expand his abilities, he didn't plan to hold back as much as he did in Gritjor.

However, the power hierarchy here was a lot different to Gritjor, and the free cities he assumed, with much stronger foundations.

It was faith based, and rogue mages were illegal, a system that Carmine was only recently adopting to Gritjor.

Probably all of Tahalyn has hard set institutions.

Hadrian thought, wondering why Carmine and the other princeps only recently went on a campaign to spread their influence over the free cities.

Their power didn't reach this far, though, which was both a good thing and a bad thing.

Good, because he wouldn't have to worry about Jasmine, bad because he might have to worry about someone just as powerful that he had no clue of at that moment.

I'll have to be a little more discreet.

"There's little on the witches." Haldon said.

Even that little is something. Hadrian thought. Their influence lingers this far? How widespread are the Sisteron?

Haldon's lips quivered, and he hesitated for a moment before willing himself.

"You said you'd give me back my arm if I do the work." He pointed out.

Hadrian, sat hundreds of metres away from him in a different part of the city, pressed his lips tightly, considering it for a moment.

After all, Haldon's efficiency was to his benefit, and that would mean keeping him in an optimum state.

It's still too early, and too little done.

Hadrian dismissed him not responding and retreated his consciousness from Haldon.