Pandora Unchained B1C60: Hero Emblem

Sorin didn't like wine. It was much too sweet, and he'd never been able to enjoy the complexities wine aficionados liked to educate people on. Instead, he liked more potent drinks like whiskey in all its regional variants. Near Bloodwood Forest, the farmers grew rye, so Sorin had adopted rye whisky as his drink of choice.

Stephan seemed to have similar tastes because he was already on his tenth glass of whiskey. Thankfully, he knew moderation and didn't even attempt to test his robust constitution. "I hear the Adventurers Guild is finally making preparations for the demon tide," the adventurer casually brought up amidst lighter conversation. "I believe they'll be conscripting us any time now."

"Conscripting?" exclaimed Lawrence. "Wait, my old man said I'd definitely be participating in the outpost's defense, but I never expected conscription was the reason why."

"It's not the same as joining the military," Stephan assured him. "There are enough adventurers that we only have to patrol for 3 days in any given week and remain on call for the rest of it."

Sorin sighed inwardly. Like big cities, outposts had their problems. Summer was the domain of Violence, and according to Violence's nature, it would always send demons with their last burst of energy before they entered a deep slumber for the winter.

As for the winter… well, Sorin didn't dwell on that. His own mana and that of his companions were relatively free of corruption. The madness that accompanied the chill winter winds would be of little worry.

"I think it's best if we all take extra precautions during the demon tide," said Sorin, swirling his glass of whisky and then drinking it down in a single gulp. "I've seen far too many adventurers and soldiers dying from corruption and demonic wounds. I don't want to see my friends suffering a similar fate."

"I think our chances of surviving are pretty good," said Gareth. "According to Father, adventurers are more likely to survive than rank-and-file soldiers. Our team is also pretty high tier compared to the average adventuring team."

"Your father would know," said Stephan with a sigh. "Nighthawks are privy to a lot of information compared to other people."

"Nighthawks?" asked Sorin.

"It's a small town, so it's not surprising that you don't know," said Gareth. "They're sort of like policemen, but for cultivators. They're especially active in the winter."

"It's no wonder my father forbade me from joining the Adventurers Guild until this year," said Daphne. "When I was a Mage, demon tides were always a time to make money since the walls needed a lot of maintenance, and a lot of new artifacts needed to be built."

"We're all on the upper end of strength for one-star adventurers," Stephan agreed. "But I'm sure everyone is aware that increasing our strength in the next two weeks is of paramount importance. There's no need to save money in that aspect. There will be plenty of money to be made during the demon tide."

Gareth sighed. "If only we had one more month. Then I could break through to the tenth level of blood thickening and obtain a large increase in strength." He, Lawrence, and Daphne all had much thicker auras than when they'd arrived at the outpost. They'd clearly all taken the chance to break through to the 9th level of blood thickening.

"I'm personally in no hurry to break through," said Daphne.

"And why is that?" asked Gareth.

Daphne shrugged. "If the strongest and best-connected person in our party isn't in a hurry to break through, why should I be? Isn't that right, Mr. Hero?"

Stephan stiffened at her words. "Who told you?"

Daphne shrugged. "I heard the vice guild master of the Mages Guild mention a hero medal being awarded. I didn't know if it was you who got it, but your reaction confirms it."

Stephan winced. "I guess there's no hiding it." He took out a silver badge engraved with a mountain. Atop the mountain were twelve circles joined together in a semicircle. It was the symbol of Olympia, where the Pandoran government was based.

"A hero medal?" asked Lawrence. "What did you do to deserve something like that? We went to the ruins and explored them just like you did."

Stephan shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't speak of it. Not just because my family would forbid it but because they make you swear not to tell anyone during the conferment ceremony. As for Daphne's suggestion that you all not advance… I'm of the same opinion. Advancing to the 10th stage of blood thickening solidifies your foundation, and making further improvements becomes more difficult after that."

"What improvements can even be made in the blood-thickening realm?" asked Lawrence, only to see Gareth elbow him. "What?"

"When someone from a major family gives you vague hints, there's often a good reason," said Gareth. "Or so my father has always said."

"I think I have some idea of what Stephan is talking about," said Sorin. "But first, I was wondering if I could check each of your conditions. I've made some progress with the meridian unlocking method, but there are some things I'd like to verify."

Lawrence sighed and held out his arm. "Go ahead. I'm used to it." Sorin didn't stand on ceremony and directly grabbed his wrist and inserted his spiritual strength.

He's the same as me, thought Sorin, inspecting the silver-sealed Conception Vessel. Except he's only unlocked 3 seals out of 24. Aside from that, his block extraordinary meridians are showing signs of loosening up. He then moved on to Daphne and Gareth and confirmed similar developments. Daphne has unlocked 4 seals, while Gareth has only unlocked 2. Their blocked extraordinary meridians also show signs of unblocking.

"Do you mind if I take a look?" Sorin asked Stephan.

"Not at all," said Stephan with a knowing smile. Sorin injected his spiritual strength into the man's giant body and experienced something rare: repulsion.

Usually, Sorin would stop here, but since he'd obtained his friend's permission, he drilled his spiritual force deeper into the man's body to inspect his meridians. It's like I thought. The silver seals are entirely gone. What should have required a tincture and medical treatment was accomplished through other means.

"Your condition is good," said Sorin, pulling his hand back. "In fact, your 6th extraordinary meridian has shown slight signs of loosening."

"Really?" asked Stephan. "Why can't I sense anything?"

"It's normal for a physician to be more aware of a patient's body," said Sorin. "On a completely unrelated note, you suddenly transformed in the battle against the minotaur. Your beastshift form has evolved somehow."

"That's right," confirmed Stephan. "I can now shift into an Arctic rune bear. It's a much larger creature than a brown bear. I'd imagine it wouldn't be impossible for me to tackle a weaker two-star demon one-on-one now."

"Why didn't you use that technique earlier?" asked Lawrence. "That minotaur nearly cut me in two." Once again, Gareth elbowed him. "What?"

"Read between the lines, will you?" said Gareth.

"Fine," said Lawrence. "Are you at least going to tell us what perks a hero emblem has?"

"Sure," said Stephan. "There are plenty. For one, I get a 10% discount at the Alchemists Guild, Mages Guild, and Adventurers Guild. Most shops will give you a 5% discount, directly subsidized by the government.

"I'm not sure about the rest of the medical association, but my Kepler Clan pays attention to heroes," Sorin divulged. "There are certain treatments that are reserved for heroes and influential figures. For example, my clan's meridian opening treatment." Of course, only the most distinguished figures would quality to have their extraordinary meridians opened.

"Similarly, my York Clan will adopt heroes into the family on a regular basis," said Stephan. "They're sought-after individuals wherever they go. I therefore hope that each of you will fight hard and try to distinguish yourselves during the demon tide."

"I just recalled another matter," said Sorin. "Opening additional meridians gets challenging after one's foundation solidifies. I can't do so right now, but I hope to make progress in the next two weeks and aid everyone in opening at least 1 or 2 more extraordinary meridians."

"You have such knowledge?" asked Stephan, reevaluating Sorin. While they'd been playing a game this whole time, informing their team of certain things in a roundabout manner, Sorin had never exposed his status in the Kepler Clan.

"My name is Sorin Abberjay Kepler," Sorin said to Stephan.

"Interesting," said Stephan. "I think I finally understand why Marcus is causing so much trouble for you."

"Can anyone please fill me in on what's going on?" asked Lawrence. "For the love of Hope, don't elbow me again; my brittle bones can't take it, Gareth."

"Let's just say that not every member of the Kepler Clan is qualified to learn such techniques," Sorin said to Lawrence. Naturally, he didn't tell Lawrence that he wasn't one of these people. His father had passed away before he'd been taught, and the elders had not seen it fit to instruct him on the matter after his cultivation had been crippled.

At the same time, Sorin carefully evaluated Percival's behavior. He looks composed, but the shaking in his hands and his hesitant actions show that my words shocked him, thought Sorin. Will he report my words back to Marcus like I intend him to?

"Every major clan has secrets that they only pass along to their core members," Stephan added. "Techniques related to extraordinary meridians are such secrets. Each major clan has their own way of going about it, but the Kepler Clan distinguishes itself in that regard. Their way is the least risky."

Sorin had accomplished his goal for the conversation, so he moved things along. "Apart from the demon tide, what else is new?"

"The lumberjacks are pulling back, and so are the farmers," said Gareth. "I expect there will be an abundance of temporary shelters that need to be built. Also, there's a shortage of arrows and bows. If anyone wants to make a quick buck, it's not a bad time to enter Bloodwood Forest to escort lumberjacks."

"I don't have much news," said Lawrence.

Stephan snorted. "As if anyone would believe that. Spying on people is what you do."

"Well, sorry if I haven't been doing as much casual spying as I usually do," said Lawrence. "I've been looking into some matters for Sorin. It's up to him if he wants me to tell everyone else about it."

"Did you find anything interesting?" asked Sorin.

"Nothing," said Lawrence in disappointment. "The guy's too clean. He's practically a saint."

"Who's a saint?" asked Daphne. "Give me a name, and I'll have someone scry out their dirty secrets."

"If you want to scry a two-star physician, be my guest," said Lawrence. "In case it's not obvious, the person I'm talking about is Marcus Kepler." Percival, who'd been pouring Stephan another drink, nearly fumbled the bottle."

"What do you mean, he's too clean?" asked Sorin.

"Marcus is perfect," said Lawrence. "He never gets into trouble. He doesn't do anything underhanded or give out bribes. He even treats a lot of commoners free of charge. For a two-star physician to do something like that, isn't it unheard of? My old man once went to a big city to get someone to look at his leg, and he said they were crooks, the lot of them!"

"He treats a lot of commoners?" asked Sorin, slightly interested. "That's rare for physicians. They usually treat the bare minimum to pass off as charitable individuals."

"I thought they were exaggerating when I heard it," Lawrence agreed. "But then I went to check it out and confirmed they weren't lying. Also, that commitment to treating adventurers? Not empty air. The farmers are all getting prompt treatment, and even a lot of the hopeless cases near the temple have been seen, too. It makes no sense, given my intuition about his character."

"And what does your intuition say?" asked Sorin.

"He's a snake, obviously," said Lawrence. "No offense."

"None was taken," said Sorin. "I have a similar appraisal of the man. That's why I was surprised when he visited me the other day and gave me back my things. He's even getting me a designation at the Alchemist Guild."

"What designation?" asked Gareth.

"Apothecary," said Sorin. "Feel free to let me know what you need when I'm officially allowed to blend and sell poisons."

"Maybe you misunderstood him," suggested Stephan. "Family politics can be complicated."

Daphne snorted in response. "I guarantee that he's a bad apple."

"On what basis?" asked Stephan.

"On the basis of plot requirements," Daphne explained. "Virtually any development can be explained if you look at it from the angle of a storybook. Lawrence, you say he's clean, but didn't he intentionally hurt Sorin? He's nice, but isn't he being too showy about it? Something's obviously off. Just the fact that we're talking about it now is obviously some sort of foreshadowing."

"He is a bone-forging cultivator," said Gareth. "According to my father, most bone forging cultivators are competitive since resources are scarce. Not just that, he's a two-tar physician. Outposts don't normally get high-level physicians since it's more efficient to have people travel to cities."

"He also doesn't seem upset about it," said Daphne. "That alone is very suspicious."

Sorin agreed with her assessment. There were too many things that needed to line up. He also had his suspicions as to why. "Let's not talk about Marcus anymore," he said, changing the topic. "Why don't we talk about that local sports team?"

"We… we don't have a local sports team," said Lawrence.

"Oh," said Sorin. "My bad. I never did like sports, but it always seems to be something people like talking about."

"I'm more interested in that piano over there," said Daphne, pointing out an antique instrument in a corner of the room. "Does Percival know how to play? Or maybe Clarice?"

"I'm afraid Mr. Kepler is the only one capable of playing to adequate standards," said Percival, topping up her wine glass. "Though he loathes to share his secret with others."

All eyes in the room settled on Sorin, who rolled his eyes. "This is exactly why I don't like sharing it," said Sorin. "I don't suppose you can all spare me and pretend you didn't hear him?"

"Nonsense," said Stephan. "Talents are meant to be shared."

Sorin let out a deep sigh but rose from his chair and walked over to the piano. It was a grand piano, 70 years old. Percival turned it on a monthly basis.

He took a seat and began running through the many songs in his head. A fugue would be appropriate, he thought as his fingers started moving according to muscle memory. Nothing too complicated. Just a hint of playfulness and inquiry.

Sorin's mind wandered as music filled the room. He lost himself in the music he'd abandoned for the better part of three years.

It came surprisingly easy to him. Then again, how could it not? A decade and a half of forced lessons and sufficiently strict parents had worked the music into his bones. Even if his mind didn't remember the music, his fingers did.

He was so engrossed in the music that he only realized he'd stopped playing a minute later. Tears stained his face, and he thanked hope that he was facing away from his friends.

Sorin used mana to wipe the tears away, then turned to his audience and bowed. "My apologies for the poor performance."

"That was… that was beautiful," said Lawrence. "Like one of those sound recordings you get in the shops – ouch!"

"Don't worry about Lawrence," said Stephan, who'd elbowed him. "I'll be sure to beat some manners into him."

"That's alright," said Sorin. "In fact, his words are high praise, as my meager talents aren't worthy of attention." He had known good musicians and was very aware of his limitations. At most, his talent could impress those not familiar with music.

"The hour is getting late," said Percival from the back of the room. "Moreover, I heard there might be a thunderstorm tonight."

It was a polite way of saying that the party was over. Percival had obviously noticed Sorin's sour mood and was seeking to extricate him from this embarrassing situation.

"There's no need," said Sorin. "We have rooms aplenty in the house. I'll have a whisky, Percival. A double, if you could."

"Mr. Kepler…"

"There's no need to fuss, Percival," Sorin insisted. "There are no strangers here. Only friends."