Chapter 29 The Hollow Reveal
Chapter 29 The Hollow Reveal
As Jorren was about to walk off, the old man stopped him.
“You haven’t paid me, boy!” The man called.
Jorren didn’t mean to forget paying. A lot was going on in his mind that his thought process went scrambled. He wondered how many lies the system had given him up until now and how many things he was let to discover. First, he had found out that the guardian taking care of his sister, a woman he considered family, was feeding his location to an unknown source. Next, he’s learning that the death of his father wasn’t a suicide at all.
“My apologies,” Jorren returned, dipping hands into his pockets. The twelve copper coins he was supposed to give his sister was still in his pocket. He picked five of the coins and handed to the man.
The man examined the coins in his hand like one would do to a spider troubling one’s bath. “This is barely the cost priceof the void slag. It’s not going to cut it.”
Jorren looked at the wrapped thing he was holding, then at the man. He didn’t know the Keeper to be the kind of person to skip details. If the void slag was that constly, he would have mentioned it. The Keeper would be that careless.
After a moment of contemplation, Jorren decided to add two copper coins to what he had already paid. If this was his father’s friend who saw it thoughtful to tell him a vital detail about his dad, the least he could do is to appreciate him. He handed the extra coins to the man.
When the old man saw him drop two coins into his palm, he frowned.
“Listen boy, if you don’t want me to alert the seeker,” he said in a low growl. “Then you better find a way to settle me well.”
Jorren wasn’t the type to argue. He was sure within himself that he had settled the old man beyond what he was supposed to give him. Without another word, he turned around and walked a step, then his feet froze in place.
“Did you think you’d just run away with my product?” The old vendor cried. “You sure don’t know what it takes us to find these product these days, and then you want me to settle for seven copper coins.”
Jorren looked behind his shoulders at the man. With his tactical vision, he could see the orange-yellow light glowing within him. From the brilliance, he could immediately predict that he was tier two. Low, and yet, he was being stubborn. Jorren turned from the man to look at his feet. Orange-golden lights wrapped around his feet, pinning it to the cobblestone floor.
Jorren knew there no point trying to push his fractured soul into releasing himself. If this guy knew his father and claimed that his father was deleted, then it also meant he knew how his father operated. The old man looked cunny, so if he’s going to free himself, then he must figure out a way to outsmart him.
Then it hit him. He doesn’t even need to push in negative resonance energy into the essence binds pinning his feet to the ground. He remembered the kids describing how the feet bind work. The binder, or practitioner had to remain concentrated, else the bind would be able to hold for so long.
All he needed to do was to distract the old man, but he didn’t want the old man to see it coming. Reaching into the depth of his fractured soul, he pulled the emptiness from within him, and instead of sending it to his feet, he pushed it towards the man glancing back briefly.
“Aargh, what the hell is going on,” he staggered, clutching his eyes.
Jorren feet felt free, like a heavy stone tied to it had been shattered to grains. With one last glance at the old man, who staggered backwards before stumbling into a stack of wooden crates, he walked away.
He didn’t deal a super harm to the old man; he only temporary blinded him. He should recover his sights in an hour. Jorren hoped that he didn’t get customers at that time, and that the low tier rogue thieves didn’t remember him.
When he arrived at the house, the Keeper was already grounding a couple of things in a concrete mortar. He didn’t look up as Jorren walked in.
“That was fast,” the Keeper admitted. “Considering that there is only one person in the entire market who sold the void slag, I must say you passed my test in flying colours.”
“The vendor happened to know my father,” Jorren said it like it was the worst experience he had at the market. “He waved me over.”
“Trolley,” he chuckled. “The old man never stopped kicking. Did he try to play his games on you?”
Jorren walked to the workbench and carefully placed the void slag, still wrapped in the linen material, then slid over the stool and turned around so he could have a clear view of the Keeper’s face.
“He did,” Jorren replied. “And clearly, I wasn’t interested. If the Void slag was expensive, you would have mentioned it.”
“Indeed,” the Keeper affirmed. “You do have your wits up, boy.”
Jorren didn’t respond. He was unusally silent, the words of the vendor troubling him. Did the vendor really knew his father? The Keeper admitted know the vendor too, did that mean he knew his father too? Jorren’s gaze went to the mortar that the Keeper was pounding with.
“You have a weight,” the keeper said. “And weight is not what you need when you prepare for Ascension, or for any other kind of ritual. What you need, is a clear head.”
Jorren didn’t speak.
“If anything troubles you, you can talk about it, Thale,” the Keeper continued. “Do not bear a burden you don’t have to.”
“Did you know my father?”
It felt like the air in the room went as thick as a blanket. In truth, the Keeper knew Valen Thale, but he didn’t have a close contact with him. When he met Jorren, he convienently left that out of the equation.
“I do.”