Boundless Chronicles

Chapter 37: The Lower Gates, II

Lyra knelt beside the gilded carriage's heavy rear wheel, her tool pouch open on the marble road.

Blue sparks danced across her fingertips as she brought out her brass tuning spanner and two Aethelgard spring-coils. Her newly awakened Tier 1 Artificer ether surged through the tools, fusing the heavy coils to the hairline crack on the wheel housing.

"Pressure seal locked," Lyra called out, wiping grease from her cheek. "The mana leak is patched. It will hold through the transit arch."

Lord Corvus Falcrest looked out from his carriage window, nodding with cold satisfaction. "Efficient work." He turned his sharp grey eyes toward the lead mounted guard. "Add them to the manifest as third-class auxiliary retainers."

The guard pulled out a glowing blue parchment scroll, tapping his brass signet ring against the ledger to write their names under House Falcrest's trade permit.

Tiiiing!

[Party Status Updated: House Falcrest Auxiliary Escort]

[Temporary Transit Pass Issued]

"Keep your heads down," Gideon whispered, adjusting his dark cloak to cover his silver rapier. "The Registrars inside the gatehouse carry high-density ether detectors."

"Just walk behind the carriage," Noël said softly, pulling his trench coat collar over his chin.

The heavy carriage moved forward, its iron-scaled beasts stomping across the white marble paving blocks. The party fell into step right behind the rear axle, surrounded by House Falcrest's blue-clad mounted guards.

They approached the heavy iron gatehouse barrier.

The Registrar in the blue uniform stepped out, holding a glowing crystal scanning rod. Beside him, two eight-foot-tall iron-bound automatons lowered their heavy mana-pikes, blocking the lane.

"Halt," the Registrar commanded, raising his hand. "House Falcrest supply transport, submit your ledger for clearance."

Lord Corvus leaned out the carriage window, tossing a heavy leather pouch of Tribute tokens onto the Registrar's desk. "We are expected at the Trade Council in one hour. Clear the barrier."

The Registrar caught the pouch, weighing it before running his scanning rod over the carriage manifest.

The crystal rod glowed green, then suddenly flickered with a faint, pulsing crimson.

The Registrar stopped. His eyes narrowed beneath his blue hat as his gaze shifted from the parchment scroll to the four-person group.

"Four auxiliary retainers added at the outer gate?" the Registrar asked, his voice sharp and suspicious. "The outer perimeter alert log just updated. Four wanted penal escapees from Penal Zone 4 are reported in the area."

Gideon's body went rigid. Beside Noël, Elara silently shifted her grip on her spear shaft.

"Are you questioning House Falcrest's hiring authority, Registrar?" Lord Corvus asked, his tone dropping into a dangerous, icy whisper. "Those retainers were hired at my direction to replace guards lost in the Desolate Corridor."

"It is standard procedure to conduct an individual badge scan for late additions," the Registrar replied smoothly, raising his scanning rod toward Noël's chest. "Step forward, vagrant."

If the scanning rod touched Noël's vest, the System would immediately match his biometric signature to Malakor's wanted bulletin.

Noël didn't step backward. He stepped forward.

With his Agility enhanced to Lv. 50, his movement was fluid and silent. As the Registrar extended the crystal rod toward his chest, Noël subtly raised his right hand, catching the underside of the man's wrist.

Tap.

His fingertips pressed against the radial pressure point on the Registrar's wrist, channeling a tiny pulse of physical kinetic force straight into his nerve cluster.

The Registrar's fingers twitched involuntarily. The heavy crystal rod slipped from his grip, falling toward the marble floor.

"Ah—!" the Registrar gasped, lunging downward to catch the expensive instrument.

Before the rod hit the floor, Noël extended his boot, catching the crystal device on his leather toe and flicking it cleanly back into his palm.

"Careful," he said deadpan, handing the undamaged rod back to him handle-first. "The marble here is quite hard."

The Registrar blinked, taking the rod back with a flustered expression. The sudden distraction shattered his focus, disrupting the scanning routine.

"Insolent vagrant..." the Registrar muttered, rubbing his numbed wrist. He looked at Lord Corvus, then back at the waiting line of trade carriages behind them. Holding up the convoy of a major merchant house over a routine check would cost him his post.

He pressed his official stamp onto the ledger.

"Clear!"

Kuu-ung!

The heavy iron barrier lifted into the archway ceiling.

The gilded carriage rolled forward beneath the brass rings, and the party followed, crossing the threshold into the lower concourse of the Middle Ring.

The black fog of the wasteland vanished, replaced by broad stone avenues, glowing mana-lanterns, and soaring white-stone spires. Citizens clad in fine silk coats walked along raised pedestrian walkways, while trade carriages hummed along paved transit lanes.

"We made it," Lyra whispered, her eyes wide as she looked up at the Capital's architecture.

"Don't relax yet," Gideon warned, Scanning the crowded avenue. "We are inside their territory now."

Before they could take twenty steps past the gatehouse, a cold chill ran down Noël's spine.

He opened his left eye.

His left pupil flared violet as the Gyre Eye spun.

Standing in the shadow of an alleyway beside the main avenue were three men in dark leather coats, their faces hidden beneath grey cloth masks. In their hands were short, concealed steel daggers dripping with purple paralysis poison.

Syndicate spotters, stationed inside the lower concourse to catch anyone who bypassed the gate.

The lead spotter's eyes locked directly onto Noël's trench coat. He signaled to his companions as they stepped into the crowd, Closing in from three directions.

"Gideon," Noël said softly, not slowing his pace. "Three hostile contacts at two o'clock, eight o'clock, and eleven o'clock."

"Poisoned blades?" Gideon asked.

"Yes," Noël replied. "They're moving in for a quiet kill."

"Elara, cover Lyra's rear," Gideon instructed, his fingers wrapping around his rapier hilt. "Noël, take the center."

The lead spotter lunged from the crowd, his poisoned dagger shooting toward Noël's ribs.

Noël didn't step back.

'Void-Weaver's Tread.'

Pft!

His frame blurred, disappearing from the spotter's line of sight and reappearing directly inside his guard.

Noël grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm outward until his elbow joint popped with a sharp crack.

"Gah—!"

He drove his right fist into the man's solar plexus, knocking the air from his lungs, then swept his leg out from under him, Slamming his head onto the marble paving.

Off to the right, Gideon's rapier flashed like silver lightning. He parried the Second spotter's blade, then drove his elbow into the man's throat, dropping him in a single breath.

On the left, Elara swung the blunt butt of her Radiant Lancer spear, striking the third spotter across the temple before he could draw his dagger.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

All three Syndicate spotters lay unconscious on the marble walkway within three seconds, hidden from the crowd by the passing shadow of Corvus's carriage.

Noël wiped his knuckles on his coat, Stepping over the lead spotter's limp body.

"Clean execution," Gideon said, sheathing his rapier under his cloak without drawing a glance from the passing citizens.

"They know we're inside," Noël noted, looking down the broad avenue toward the central district. "The Capital won't be quiet for long."