Chapter 527 A Man With A Mission: Vainglory

"Hold on! Stop it!...Emilia!" He yelled out.

He only had one more glance at the amber-haired woman as he was ushered out of the backdoor of the basement, seeing the clown-faced man give him a small, ominous wave.

Even as he tried his best to resist, it seemed the chains were not only able to nullify magic, but suppressed even his normal strength with a subduing, weakening effect.

I messed up, he thought.

Vainglory walked casually while pulling him along with him, nonchalantly strolling out of the back as an all-black carriage was waiting outside, behind the building.

It had begun raining in the time before he entered, and the time he left. The man sitting at the coach box with the horse-attached ropes in hand was an old man with eerie, black eyes and a smile.

With one look, he knew it was another Belmon cultist that had likely stolen the identity of a normal person.

"Come on," Vainglory said, tugging on the chains, looking back at him as he opened the door to the carriage with an indifferent look in his gray eyes.

Though he put up a resistance, it was only for show.

There was a realization he had made, a small detail that he noticed, and that he hoped Vainglory would not.

This is my one ticket–for Emilia and myself. I just have to play along for now, Sirius thought, I'll try to get some answers while I'm at it.

He boarded the carriage after Vainglory, entering the blackwood vehicle as he sat on its gray-leather seat, across from the silver-haired man. It was stiff and uncomfortable, but he felt nothing would be comfortable with the tight, black chains wrapped around his upper-body.

It was surprisingly lavish, on the inside of the carriage. Though the interior still possessed a gloomy, all-black design, there were silver decorations–mostly resembling the design of a cloaked woman.

Vainglory slapped the side of the carriage, prompting the driver to begin setting off before he returned his peculiar gaze to his captive.

"Sirius Federov," Vainglory said his name with a hint of sarcasm, "..."The Strongest Outlander"...the one who managed to eradicate Sloth."

"So, it was you then? Belmon sent Sloth to Lemasdale?" He asked with a quiet, suppressed annoyance.

Vainglory looked at him for a moment with a small, reserved smile, "I'd imagine the Sage would've helped you come to that conclusion. She's a troublesome one–"Beatrice". While your threat is ultimate strength, Beatrice's is ultimate knowledge. Together, that makes the Outlanders as deadly to Belmon as a kingdom–perhaps even more so."

It was simultaneously surprising to hear the type of information that the man seemed to possess, but also not.

The wheels of the carriage began to roll as the wooden vehicle began to traverse the streets of Yulimium, rocking over the cobblestone pathways.

Beatrice told us about this. Belmon has their hand in everything–I've seen that firsthand with this city. I don't know what they know–or rather, what they don't know, he thought.

He was hesitant to respond to the words that left Vainglory's lips–he could see by the look in the man's eyes that he was trying to coax a response.

"Who are you, exactly? If I had to guess, you're some sort of big shot within Belmon, right?" he asked, trying to pry some information from the man.

Vainglory laughed quietly, "That's certainly a question, isn't it? I wonder."

As expected, the silver-haired man didn't seem easy to slip answers from, seeing right through him.

"There's a lot of answers to that question," Vainglory told him as his messy, silver locks hung low, "but for now, let's just say I'm your captor."

"..."

"Not a satisfying answer, is it?" Vainglory chuckled quietly, "Expect a lot of that. Belmon hasn't remained in the shadows because we're particularly loose with our thoughts."

"...You can at least answer this," He said, looking Vainglory straight in the eye, "Why do you want me? If you wanted to kill me, I'm sure you would've done it by now."

Vainglory stayed silent for a moment with a smile that contained the answers he wanted, looking at him for a moment as the sounds of the carriage wheels rolling filled the silence.

"It's not exactly a secret, Sirius," Vainglory told him.

"Huh?" He asked in surprise.

"I mean that it should be obvious what we want with you," the silver-haired man held his relaxed smile, "You're powerful. One of the most powerful mages in this world, easily. Could you think of a more perfect vessel?"

His eyes widened in disgust at his words, clenching his fists, "...Vessel? What do you mean? A vessel for what?"

After asking the question, he glanced beyond the window of the carriage, seeing the buildings within the city pass by like a fleeting, rain-laden scenery.

I've got to wait until I'm out of the city–no, a bit further than that, he thought.

"A vessel," Vainglory cemented his earlier words, "That's all you need to know, Sirius Federov."

The vague answer, or lack thereof, only served to annoy him as he once more looked past the window of the carriage.

It seemed to just pass the front gates of Yulimium, venturing out into the great, verdant valleys of the region as the mountains in the distance became clear.

Good, just a bit longer, he thought.

If there was one thing he found peculiar, it was Vainglory. Compared to what he had run into before, and what he had heard, Vainglory seemed surprisingly sane for a member of the Belmon empire. He was calm, collected, and tactful, it seemed.

I can't get a read on how strong this guy is, though. I don't know if it's because my mana is suppressed, or he's just really good at suppressing himself, but I'm left in the dark here–it doesn't matter. Just a bit longer, and I'll show him the mistake he made, he thought.

"...Ren Nakamura," Sirius said suddenly with a dead-serious look in his eyes, "Does that name ring any bells to you?"