Chapter 83: Infiltration
As Tom took in the cacophony of the Nameless District in, he found himself looking back on the time he had spent in the squalid town; contemplating on the realization that it might be the last time he got to take in the bustle of the main drag as dozens upon dozens of dungeoneers fought not just for a good bargain, but the very right to exist in the district itself.
Perhaps to the Nobles, their existence was a pitiful one. Tom, though, had come to acknowledge the dungeoneers of the Nameless District, as they staked their very lives on the line to seek out their desires. Wealth, fame and possible glory, if they were granted admission into the Noble District.
Would his opinion be different if he was born in Artezia, instead of looking upon the dynamics of the District from the lens of a foreigner from a wholly different plane of existence?
Likely.
However, none of that would change the simple fact that Tom would miss the District, along with the energetic, motivated dungeoneers that populated it.
Zirel had made it clear that while using the Elite Guards crest would be the safest way of making it through the Royal Knights checkpoint, it would also come with its own unique set of consequences. Namely, the odds of his entry into the Noble District going unlogged and uninvestigated were next to none, putting their mission on a clock.
Anywhere from two weeks to a month.
That meant that the moment he returned, they needed to unlock the inheritance and enter the Zelez Dungeon within the next two to three days. A week was the maximum time they could take to clear the final sector, as per the rules set by the Divine System itself. Any longer and it would simply reset and along with it, their chance at truly clearing the Zelez Dungeon.
Tom had been hesitant on staking it all on this one chance, but Aleph had been adamant about it- either they cleared it on the first attempt or they would never clear it. He had argued against her for a while, yielding only after she countered every point he brought forward with facts.
If they werent capable of clearing it, odds were that they wouldnt survive until the dungeon reset anyway. Besides that, Aleph and Zirel had already exhausted all other avenues of leveling their respective Soul Cards and neither of them could afford to stay in the Nameless District much longer anyway.
I guess this is it, Tom thought to himself as he cut through the throng of dungeoneers crowding the Nameless Districts main drag. Most people in these parts were wise enough to steer clear of the unknown and Toms hooded silhouette, black wooden mask and his confident, imposing gait certainly helped give him the air of an enigmatic, possibly dangerous individual.
Tom allowed himself a final, lingering glance at the makeshift wooden stalls spilling onto the main street without any rhyme or rhythm, the animated faces of dungeoneers engaged in bouts of haggling and the myriad sounds and smells, some oddly pleasant while others, most decidedly not.
He had come a long way, both from Earth and from the person he used to be.
Then, he took a step onto the rough dirt road that led to the tent painted in the Royal Knights livery; the checkpoint that he needed to cross to gain access to the Nobles District.
As he traversed the winding dirt road that switchbacked up a small ascent, it occurred to him that the role he had been acting out had at some point, mired itself into reality. He was no longer afraid of even the most experienced of dungeoneers in the Nameless District. Similarly, the Royal Knights livery was longer capable of inciting the dread Serawin had upon their first encounter, immobilizing him with the strength contained in a single arm. Back then, the Royal Knight hadnt even needed to consider using his [Soul Card] to leave him completely helpless.
Now?
Based on Zirels understanding, the average Royal Knight was a little weaker than the Nottrakon Familys Elite Guards, though the former had more experience dealing with direct confrontations. Though Zirel didnt voice it out loud, Tom was pretty sure that the Elite Guards were trained to handle things in a more subtle, underhanded manner.
Of course, that was without adding their respective equipment into the mix. The Royal Knights served the interests of various Noble Families, sometimes as a collective, while largely focusing on duties delegated to them by the Noble Family they pledged allegiances to.
That implied a large difference in the quality of equipment supplied to them, largely proportional to the value the pledgee Noble Family saw in the Royal Knight.
Naturally, it could not compare to equipment supplied by the Nottrakon Family. The Royal Knights were largely recruited from the Nameless District, which meant that their loyalty could only be trusted to a certain degree. While the Elite Guard was handpicked from two or three bloodlines that had been serving the Nottrakon Family for decades, a revelation that had allowed Tom to understand the severity of Zirels crimes in totality.
He slotted the translucent stone into the depression, its dimensions completing what Tom suspected to be the true, finished version of the Elite Guards insignia.
It took every bit of willpower that he could assign in the heat of the moment for him to not flinch as the metal emblem flared to life, the blood red energy exploding outwards in a cascade of motion.
A three-dimensional hologram was now projected from the metal emblem, a technology that would have been more fitting in Toms old world. A few moments passed before the hologram fully realized the crest it was trying to display.
Tom recognized the ornamental shield as the same one that had been carved onto the metal emblem, a cross engraved in an unfamiliar script that intersected in the middle; dividing the shields surface area into four quadrants. Each quadrant was further inlaid with a different precious gem, their shape and depth far more prominent in the holographic image.
He had naturally assumed the shield to be the Nottrakon Familys coat of arms, but it appeared that he was greatly mistaken.
Had Zirel expected him to know his familys insignia simply because most people in the Syrelore Kingdom were likely to?
Regardless, Tom hadnt been expecting a three-dimensional depiction of a scaled arm that had five long, violently sharp claws puncturing through the shields center.
You are indeed who you claim to be, Nvein acknowledged with an approving nod, the tension leaving his clenched fist. I can let you pass, but Im afraid that I will have to report your entry to my superiors, he added in a far more friendlier tone.
Is that necessary? Tom asked, letting his words linger for a few moments longer than appropriate. I thought I made myself clear, he added in a slow cadence that spoke of his composure just as Nvein moved to answer, his words carrying an undertone of authority.
Nvein let out a sigh, before answering, The orders are strict. Im not sure if you are aware, but there has been a development that has left our district on edge. Some sort of self-disguising card that can-.
Tom moved more by instinct over meticulous thought as he took a step closer to Nvein, before leaning in conspiratorially.
I am here to take care of that anomaly, Tom emphasized the final word, as if to hint that he knew more about the situation than most.
Nveins eyes widened as he took in Tom more carefully, then realization dawned upon his features.
Is the infiltration that deep? Nvein asked worriedly, a bead of sweat running down his forehead as he had all but whispered the question.
What? Tom thought to himself, baffled by Nveins response.
A tense silence befell them as Tom slowly puzzled out the connection Nvein had made with his request to not inform the Royal Knights superiors with possible infiltration in the upper echelons of Nobility.
Possibly, Tom replied. Two weeks. That is all I require.
A brief moment of hesitation passed Nveins visage, before the Royal Knight followed through with an official salute.
Wait here. I will clear the tent so that you can slip away unnoticed, he explained, before walking away hurriedly.
As Tom watched the Royal Knights receding back, he couldnt help but entertain an half-amused, half-worried thought,
This wasnt how things were supposed to have gone.