Chapter 265 One More

Crane POV

What the hell is going on? He groaned to himself as his emergency healing item worked its magic.

Defeating his student was one thing, but kicking his ass? That was something else.

He liked to pride himself as a person who was quite skilled for his rank. Nothing like some of the nobles who pay their way to Tier 4, but someone who was capable.

What kind of kid was this?

Tier 3? He was highly doubtful of that. Hell, he was debating whether or not he was really a kid. By the way, he fought and how handled Crane with such skill, it was more likely that the guy was a few decades old. It was just as likely that he was a Tier 4 who had some kind of tier-obscuring item that allowed him to present himself as a Tier 3.

There was no other explanation for how this 'boy' was so powerful. He hit like a truck, his speed, while not as fast as his own, was capable of keeping up, he was skilled in mana control, and to top it all off, he had some kind of brutal aura.

He mentally slapped himself as he tried to come up with more and more reasons that would make his situation less bitter on his tongue. Crane knew the truth. He was simply just making excuses for his current dilemma and why he was lying in a pool of his own blood.

There was one hint that made him believe the boy was still a Tier 3. Authority. Or rather the lack of it.

The boy didn't have a single wisp of his own Authority. He still had an Emblem, and while strong, wasn't a true Authority.

How ridiculous, he grunted to himself as the powerful healing item kept him alive and wove his flesh back together painfully.

Crane was half hoping that the boy would think he had killed him and go on his way. While it was a bit embarrassing to think that way against a person who was a full tier below him, he didn't like his chances of that happening.

The boy had some kind of powerful perception skill. There was no other way he could have predicted his teleportation with such accuracy and sneak attacks so easily. Not even Godfrey could do that with such precision.

Just as his item was halfway done with healing him, he felt an incoming attack made out of insanely compressed mana. With how injured he was, he couldn't do anything but throw up a shield made with plain mana. There was nothing else he could do.

His shield was ripped through like wet paper and he was struck with another explosion. But he couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh. This time, it would seem that the boy had been going after his legs. And in a flash of light, they were shredded apart and he let out an ear-piercing scream.

He writhed in pain as the shock of losing his limbs overwhelmed his senses and he felt his hold over the rest of his skills falter. Then to make things even worse, that boy's brutal aura seeped through the opening and ravaged what was left.

His Authority wasn't even able to put up a proud fight. It was swept away with a simple bash of aura and he was subjected to even more pain. This time it was physical. It was a soul-crushing pain that had him desperately wishing for it to end.

He was suddenly regretting not training his willpower like many had advised him to. He relied too much on tricks and subtlety and was paying the price.

However, as fate would have it, his wish came true. The pain slowly subsided as it was replaced with a feeling of heavy shackles being placed on his soul. It wasn't just his soul either, it was his entire body. The boy had used some kind of skill to imprison him in place and there was nothing Crane could do but resignedly thrash at these chains.

He sensed the approaching steps of the boy and for some reason, they felt much louder than they should have. An ice-chilling needle went through his spine as he opened his eyes to stare at the young boy who was giving him a soft smile.

But make no mistake, this wasn't a comforting smile. There was no joy or warmth in these eyes. All he saw when he looked in them, was nothing but blackness and the slightest hints of crimson red flashing through them like little stars.

When the boy got to where he was lying on his back, he bent down and took a knee.

"So… about my previous question. Would you like to rethink your answer?" He heard the boy ask in that same calm and arrogant tone.

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"Screw you," Crane grunted through clenched teeth. His missing legs were still radiating pain from where they should have been still attached.

"That's not very nice. I am sparing your life right now, but that is only in exchange for answering some questions I have," the boy said with a mocking frown.

"If I tell you anything, I am going to wish you had killed me when the Conclave gets their hands on me."

"Oh, they are that scary?" The boy asked this time a genuine smile gracing his lips.

"If you were smart, you wouldn't find that so amusing. No matter how strong you are for your tier, you won't be able to do anything when some of the more powerful people in the organization get their hands on you," Crane said to him with a bloody smile of his own.

He watched nervously as the smile faded from the boy's face and he was looked directly in his eyes. "I don't care about all of the influential people within the Conclave and I don't even care about what House Easton wants to ask you. I only really care if a certain House is a part of it. And if you can tell me that if that one small House is, I will let you live."

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Crane saw a flicker of anger flash through the boy's eyes and swallowed the bloody saliva that was filling his mouth, the copper taste coating his tongue.

"Just one House?" He asked hesitantly.

"Just one," the boy said, openly showing his sincerity through his aura.

That was honestly a better offer than he was expecting. There were hundreds of noble families who were in some way a part of their operations. He didn't know every one of course, but he knew that there were plenty of Houses involved.

If all he had to do was share the involvement of a single House in return for his life, he was more than willing to share. Even if it meant risking the Conclave finding out about it. Plus, if it would give someone time to come rescue him, even better. The boy was unlikely to live through the night anyway, but whether or not he decides to kill Crane before that happened was still up in the air for debate

Besides, there were always leaks. Letting something slip like what House was involved was different than telling him the exact location of their safe houses and details of their current missions or plans.

The odds of someone already having leaked a House's involvement were pretty high, so he doubted the Conclave would care that much even if they found out he had betrayed that information.

"Actually, maybe two," the boy interjected with an apologetic scratch of his head.

Crane was about to protest but held himself back. Okay, two still isn't that bad, he thought to himself.

He really only had two choices in front of him. One was the tell the boy what he wanted to know and hope someone came to help him. The other was to keep his mouth shut and likely be killed. He took the time to weigh the pros and cons to both of the choices and ultimately came to a decision.

It was the most obvious one considering he very much liked his life and wished to continue living.

"I can't promise you that I know every House involved, okay?" Crane tried to temper the boy's expectations in the chance that he didn't like the answer.

"I understand," the boy said with a reassuring nod, still letting his sincerity show through his aura but it honestly came off as more threatening and scary than anything else.

Crane swallowed nervously as he stared into the flickering red eyes of the boy and nodded his head defeatedly. "What do you want to know?"

He was surprised when he saw the boy actually hesitate. During their fight the boy had not shown such weakness, he had been brutally decisive and cool-headed. However, for the very first time Crane was seeing the boy for what he was… a boy.

But that moment passed by in an instant and was replaced by firm resolve.

"What is House Greyson's association with the Conclave?"

Crane couldn't help but be surprised by the boy's question and took a moment to regain his composure.

"You said 'small house'," he said with a scoff.

The boy didn't respond and simply stared intensely at him. He didn't know if the boy was doing it on purpose but his aura was pressing against him in a very threatening way. But a part of him doubted it, it didn't have the same level of control he had seen so far from the boy. It was wild and savage. Which made him even more uncomfortable.

Crane swallowed nervously and looked around, hoping that someone from their side had noticed what was going on. Unfortunately, everyone else was way too distracted with their own battles.

"What is their association with them?" The boy asked again, this time holding a large blade up of way too much mana over his head.

Crane didn't know if he could answer now. House Greyson was definitely not a house he could easily offend. A small lord's house was nothing, but a Ducal House? One that was vital in their operations activities? That was something else.

"So they are associated," the boy seemed to come to a conclusion without Crane answering.

Crane nervously tried to avoid his eye contact.

"What about House Townsen?" The boy thankfully switched topics.

"Yes, they are one our main contacts in Blumand," Crane easily replied. He was much less worried about giving House Townsen up. It was even easier considering there was already a lot of scrutiny on Lord Townsen.

"And who else is working alongside House Townsen? I want everyone you can think of."

Crane bravely put his foot down. "That wasn't our deal. You said only two Houses."

"Yes, but you never answered my first question. I came to that conclusion myself, you didn't say a single thing. Consider this my compensation."

He glanced at the terrifying blade of mana that was getting closer to his neck. At this distance he could hear the humming noise it made, indicating just how much mana was being packed into this thing. He had no doubt that with a thought the boy could decapitate him. He was also still trying to stall.

So he did the only thing he could do. He told the boy all of the groups associated with House Townsen.

"Hold on," the boy raised a hand to him. Halfway through his reveal, the boy took out a piece of paper. "Okay, start from the beginning"

He did as he was told, all the while desperately praying that one of the others noticed his absence and came to check up on him.

Once the boy was done writing, he showed him the paper. "Are all of the names correct?"

Crane could only bitterly nod his head. He didn't correct the boy on a few names he noticed were spelled wrong, but that was his only way to spite him.

The boy casually placed the list back into his storage ring and gave a more genuine smile at him.

"So, back to what I initially asked. What is House Greyson's association with the Conclave?"

"I don't know," he said.

"You know something."

"I swear I don't know anything!" He pleaded.

"What is Wesley Greyson hoping to accomplish?" The boy asked, ignoring his pleas.

"I am not even a Bishop in the organization. All of the important stuff is hidden from people like me. I only know about Blumand because I worked there directly," he tried to convince the boy to believe him.

He really didn't know all that much. He knew of their involvement, but that was just about the extent of it.

Seeing a chance to waste even more time he quickly jumped on this. "A Bishop, a position within the organization. They are normally only held by Tier 5s."

"Oh, so you really are just a grunt then, huh?"

Crane tried not to be offended by that. There was no need to be hasty, he had already sensed a person's aura who he was very familiar with racing toward their position.

He maintained his act though. "I am technically an officer," he said, not having to pretend to be somewhat defensive.

"Yes, a very sneaky one it would seem too," the boy said with a wild grin as he swung the blade of mana over Crane's head.

However, his target wasn't Crane at all. The blade passed just right over his head and smashed into Lyn who was just a few feet away from the boy, sword in hand ready to decapitate the boy.