From the king's reaction, Aaron could tell his actions had been even more shocking than he had expected. That reminded him he needed a better understanding of the local culture. By knowing what was expected of people, he would get a clearer picture of his situation.

Though his days in this kingdom had already provided him with a good idea about the empire's culture, that wasn't enough. His vision had been limited because he was an outsider. Fortunately, he had a way to fix it to an extent.

Knowing a society's laws, preferably with access to recent rulings by whatever passed as a judiciary system, was great for understanding that society's values. It would point at the invisible bindings that maintained the status quo. And after locating said bindings, he could trace them back to their origins, to the ones holding the reins of everything behind the curtains.

He turned to the Priests. They hadn't been overly polite with him, but they also hadn't offended him. It was expected for them to be unwilling to let him do as he pleased as he pushed the boundaries. He didn't blame them. Forcing people to smile at him despite their feelings was just a stupid way of incentivizing a hypocrite society.

Aaron would take offense at people being purposefully unhelpful, but the Priests had been competent and answered his questions truthfully. That was where he drew the line. Thus, he also wouldn't show them any smiles nor offend them.

"I want a copy of the Temple of Light's public scriptures," he said. "Can I find it in the local temple?"

"Yes," the short Priest replied.

"Good." He turned to the king, who was still looking at him as if he were expecting something to happen. "Make sure that the path you take to the tower also goes through the Temple of Light. I want to get their rulebook first." He turned back to the Priests. "Will his punishment ever end?"

"No, but most of his days are still his own. He's only to pay penance one morning every week for the rest of his life. Such is the mercy of the Goddess of Light."

Aaron nodded and turned to the king again. "Then send me five things after you're done with your punishment for the day: a copy of this kingdom's laws; a copy of this empire's laws; the record of all judicial rulings for the last five years in the empire and its vassal kingdoms, as many as you can get your hands on, including this kingdom's rulings; the record of all crimes committed in this kingdom the last five years, including the socioeconomic status of the criminals when known, and what punishment was inflicted upon them, if any; and a meeting with the Red Duke, so I can talk about hiring one of his people. Now, stop looking at me like that and start moving. I don't have all day and I'm sure the Priests aren't happy with your silence. You have heretics to convert."

The speaker Priest nodded at that.

"Yes, yes," the king said, waking up from his stupor. "Please, this way," he said humbly, then started yelling his nonsense at the populace again.

"Now, good Priests," said Aaron. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. I introduced myself, but I didn't get your names."

"I'm Lynus Marken, Initiate of Light," the silent one spoke for the first time.

"I'm Gaus Ric, Acolyte of Light."

"Nice to meet you," Aaron said. He would probably get more information about their ranks when he got the scripture. For now, he was more curious about the king. He nodded the man's way. "So, what's his story?"

"You don't know?" Gaus asked, surprised. "His Ritual of Virtue was the most shameful in recent history."

"I was out of town and couldn't get up to date with the news yet." He had only left the Arcane Circle's store to buy materials and had been quick about it, as to not let the women alone and unprotected for long.

Gaus nodded. "It's part of his penitence to tell the tale to any who asks, but I understand that the Blessed of Light shouldn't be subjected to the shoutings of a sinner." From the difference in treatment, Aaron guessed that asking for their names had won him some goodwill from the Priests. "According to his own words, the tale of his sins starts with the surprise war the Raletheans brought over Illyria..."

Aaron heard everything with more interest than he expected, for the details of the king's political misadventures told him a lot about the empire's culture and flaws.

As Alys heard the tale of the king's misdeeds, she became even more sure of her decision to follow the Patriarch. The king had revealed that he had only bowed to the Goddess of Light out of desperation.

A desperation caused by Aaron Ironblood.

How incredible was it that a man would bow to a god out of fear for a mortal? Out of a desire to have that god mediate peace with that mortal? That a king would humiliate himself in the deal not out of piety for the divine, but out of fear of the mortal?

But was the Patriarch a simple mortal?

The more time she spent with him, the more she doubted that. The Goddess of Light had given him a lot without asking for anything in return. He had lied — she was sure of it — about having investigated all the Devouts of Darkness in the kingdom, and no one was brave enough to call his bluff. He declared war on a god, and the Priests of the Temple of Light just watched in silence.

That was her Patriarch, and at that exact moment, she decided to follow him no matter what. She would rise or fall with him. For the price of failure was glorious death, and the reward for success was glorious power

She would take any kind of glory over mediocrity any day.

When they were midway through to the Temple of Light, a young Priest trainee arrived on his own accord to deliver their scriptures to Aaron. He took the thick big book in his hands and looked at the two Priests who had been walking close to him. "Your doing?"

They shook their heads and the short one said, "I would guess the Goddess of Light, in her great wisdom, was already planning on providing you with her holy scripture."

He flipped through some pages and stored the book away. "I didn't say it before because I was going there anyway, but I also want all written works you can give me. Rulebooks, historical accountings, anything at all. I would appreciate hidden scriptures and the such too. Therefore, I must head there—"

Before he could finish, a second running Devout, this time a young Priestess-in-training, appeared on a street corner. She carried a big leather bag full of books and papers. "Herald of Light, I have been instructed to deliver these to you." She pushed the bag into his hands and bowed. Aaron didn't fail to notice the discrete, derisive look she shot at Lana.

He frowned. Someone didn't want him to go to the temple. He was tempted to go anyway out of spite, but Lana had been getting restless the more they had approached the temple, and the writings had killed his momentum.

It was one thing for him to go there when he needed to go there. Lana would understand that. But she might resent him if he insisted on going — and putting her through a stressful, humiliating situation if the scornful look she got was any sign — just because. He also saw no reason to put his desire to spite on the goddess before her wellbeing.

"Seems like we don't need to head to the temple anymore," he told the king, refusing to thank the disrespectful girl. "To the tower, please."

He obeyed, and they reached it soon enough.

Aaron's new tower was around a thousand feet wide and sixty feet high, divided into six tall floors. It was made of black stone magically glued to make the tower perfectly round and smooth to the touch, and a sandstone-paved clearing of five hundred feet surrounded it.

The king had claimed to have destroyed the tower, but no traces of it could be found even to Aaron's experienced eyes. The king's men had done a fine job cleaning the place.

The tower had no windows and a single entrance, which had wooden white doors that folded multiple times to turn into a wide opening. They were closed, and Aaron could feel no formations on them, just like there were none in the tower. The king had rebuilt the tower, but not the magic in it, which Aaron found excellent. It was better to inscribe proper formations from scratch rather than fixing shitty ones.

"Good job," Aaron told the king. "Get me the five things I asked of you and, together with everything else you gave me, I'll consider you a good acquaintance."

Though the Ironblood Clan only had three official classifications for external people and powers — allies, enemies, and non-entities — Aaron's personal relationships had shades of gray. A good example was the way he had bowed to the High Lord to keep his life yet wanted to replay the humiliation at a later date. That said, if the High Lord ever declared himself an enemy of his clan, Aaron would stop at nothing to kill the man unless the High Lord provided acceptable reparations, no matter who was the strong or the weak in the war.

As far as he was concerned, their exchange had been a personal one, while the God of Darkness had tried to kill him and steal from two members of his clan, and thus it was something bigger. The line was subtle, but it was there.

Becoming a good acquaintance would be an enormous boom for the king. It would allow the man to make small requests or invite Aaron to social events that, if Aaron accepted, would help cement the king's social status. Having a powerful person attend your events was a basic move of the social war of male genitalia measurement.

The king didn't know any of that, but he was politically savvy enough to get the general meaning of the words "good acquaintance" and immediately take advantage of it.

"I thank you for the opportunity, herald. If I may, I would like to give you a warning and make a request," he said with some gratefulness in his voice. He was getting braver, unlike his utmost submissive reaction when Aaron arrived in the city. Not getting killed had emboldened him in a way only politicians could, and he was already pushing the boundaries which lay in places unknown to him, to find out where he really stood with Aaron.

Aaron found it annoying, but not enough to make an issue out of it. He nodded. "Speak."

"Eleven days ago, the emperor ordered an Imperial Purge on the Ralethean and Illyria Kingdoms. Unfortunately, I don't know the reason behind it, and it's not my place to ask for clarification either.

"The nearest Imperial Garrison, comprising almost a thousand elite troops at the Three Star level or higher, has already purged the Ralethean Kingdom of all those they found guilty of corruption. The result was the death of all Ralethean cultivators, together with any Inept that had any kind of contact whatsoever with those cultivators, as the rules of Imperial Purges demand. They were a bit overzealous on how to interpret corruption and such connections. Over eighty-five percent of the population of the Ralethean Kingdom was killed.

"They are now marching on Illyria's lands and have purged two towns. Because they were relatively small, every Inept there was related to a cultivator in a way or another. No one survived. The garrison put the corpses of such despicable, corrupt people to the stake and burned the towns.

"They are quick in finding and judging corruption and would be a couple of days away from the capital if they hadn't stopped for an unknown reason. I received reports that their strongest people, ten cultivators, of which one is at the Champion level and the others are at the Five Star level, have separated from the main group and came more or less in the capital's general direction.

"Despite my past betrayal against the empire, I'm currently a Protector of the Light and they can't touch me. You are a Herald of Light though. Although your position is hierarchically above mine in the Temple of Light, it's not an official Imperial Office like my own. I don't know how they would behave with you, seeing as you were never part of the Thenor Empire until you were summoned, and thus your loyalty to the empire is questionable. Even your status as a replacement for the Arcane Circle isn't enough to protect you from an Imperial Purge.

"So, my warning is to be mindful of the potential danger that might come this way. And my request is that we may meet soon to discuss how to deal with the impending danger."

The news surprised Aaron. If such Imperial Purge had been put in motion eleven days ago, the players had made a move against him before he even noticed he was a pawn! No matter the careful words of the king, Aaron refused to believe it was a coincidence that the Imperial Purge had been ordered so soon after he was summoned to this world.

The king's words had been carefully selected to not make it look like he was asking for help from Aaron. Yet, anyone with a brain in their heads could tell the man just wanted to avoid having to pay for something for the help in keeping his kingdom standing, even going as far as pointing out that Aaron himself was in danger.

Which was bullshit, by the way. Even if the Imperial Purge had come for him, he could just leave the Illyria Kingdom or the Thenor Empire. The king's situation was manifold worse than Aaron's, as he was stuck with his kingdom.

Aaron would have to contemplate his next step carefully, and for that he needed information.

"Give me everything I asked for as soon as possible. You don't need to provide it all at once, keep sending me anything you can until you're done. I'll let you know when I'm ready for a meeting. But be advised that if I ever find any lie in the data you provide me, I'll make your life hell, no matter whom I may offend."

His meaning was also clear: he wouldn't decide on anything until he knew more, and he wouldn't take it kindly to be manipulated if the king tried to do so. And Aaron was someone who had declared war on a god. Whatever protection the king might think he had wouldn't stop Aaron's ire from getting to him.

Aaron smiled slightly when he saw the king tremble involuntarily under his gaze. It seemed the man realized he might have pushed the boundary more than he should have, and his fear of Aaron had returned.

That was good. People with short memory tended to die quickly around him.

"Thank you for the company," he told the Priests, who nodded in return. He turned to his new tower. "Alys, Lana, come. It's time for a crash course on formation theory."