Chapter XX: Scouting Mission I

Shizukana Gake, The Great Plateau

Month of the Garuda 33, 172 ,328 DE

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The gate bell keeps ringing.

"You expecting anyone, Shitty Old Man?"

Old Man Jones scoffs. "I don't have any more friends than you, Obnoxious Brat. It's either you fat friend or someone from the Jewel Kingdoms. You already let your cat get cold, pining over your psycho, little, loli girlfriend. Go see who it is already."

"What the fuck is loli supposed to mean, Shitty Old Man?"

"It means you're a pedophile in the making. Go get the damn gate already!" Old Man Jones sits down opposite me. Old Man Jones is Old Man Jones. Some of the strangest shit comes out of his mouth, ideas and words from his old world. No matter how much he claims to hate it, he cannot let go of his old world. From the little bit he says about that world, the people living there were warped and twisted before it was destroyed. Insane does not even begin to describe them. He should be happy that it is gone and forget about it, but most times, it seems like his old world has left scars in his Mind that will never heal.

Not bothering to argue with Old Man Jones, I go out to the courtyard. The heavy smell of the coming rainstorm fills the air. In the late afternoon, heavy cloud cover was already moving in from the Demonic Wildlands, and now, no sign of the moon or stars can be seen. Mixed with the scent of the coming raid, the scents of Vorn and Ragnar already drift in the still night air.

The Amberites are about the only people who might show up at our residence at night like this. Anyone else would go to the shop during business hours. Whether it is Old Man Jones or myself, we really do not have friends. Hoshi is the only human that could be considered my friend. Old Man Jones only has his fuck friends, but I do not know if they can really be called friends.

Opening the gate, I stare at Vorn and Ragnar. Form fitting chainmail covers both of them from their neck to their shins. Heavy metal plated Beast hide boot cover everything below their knees, and weapons hang from their belts. Vorn looks more natural and comfortable dressed this way, as opposed to wearing the Academy's uniform.

"What are you clanging our bell for after sundown?" I keep my voice flat and emotionless.

After glancing at Ragnar, Vorn steps into the open gate, but I block him from entering the courtyard. "You haven't answered my question."

With an odor of frustration and irritation filling the air around him, Vorn frowns. "You're not a very friendly person, are you?"

"Not particularly. What do you want?"

"We have information about what we talked about the other night. But maybe, you weren't satisfied with the resolution of our little contest, either?" Vorn bares his teeth in an expression that only a retard would mistake for a smile.

"Not particularly." As my own lips part in a similar expression, my eyes narrow slightly.

"Do you want to pick up where we left off at the Academy?" Vorn's body looks relaxed, but he shifts his weight forward onto the balls of his feet.

"We don't have any peanut gallery here to dampen the fun."

"You two Souls of Goodness and Kindness knock off the dick measuring contest and get you asses in here." Old Man Jones' annoyed voice comes from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

I release an irritated sigh. "The shitty old man calls. Next thing, he'll start throwing pots and pans like an upset housewife."

"Quit hitching and start moving. Obnoxious Brat."

I roll my eyes. "We'll finish this later."

Vorn nods. "Someplace without distractions."

As the Amberites follow me into the kitchen, Old Man Jones glares at me. With half of his face sculpted metal and the other half twisted into an irritated mask, the old man looks almost comical. I resist the urge to laugh. If I did, it would probably set him off on a tirade, but he still narrows his one fleshly eye as he stares at me.

Old Man Jones shifts his irritated stare to the Amberites. "If you two are here, you must have run into a snag you can't deal with. What do you want?"

Ragnar steps forward and gives Old Man Jones a slight bow. "Grandmaster Engineer, we have discovered a group of men, gaijin, as they call people like us, who buy supplies on a monthly basis and take them out of the city to the south. None of the merchants know where they are taking them, but they all agree that there should be no settlements south of Shizukana Gake."

The Amberites seem to have acquired a better idea of the image Old Man Jones portrays in the Heian Kingdom. As he does every time someone calls him a Master or Grandmaster Engineer, Old Man Jones frowns.

"Can the pretty titles. I'm nothing more than Journeyman. You just don't know what real Masters and Grandmasters are. Too much has been lost." With a hint of old regrets lurking in his eyes, Old Man Jones looks at me.

"Please Grand … Jones. Help us. We followed the tracks left by the Princess' Men, but they just end at a large clearing. We can only assume they were lifted out by airship. Based on the volume of supplies and the frequency they are purchased, there should be four to five hundred people with the Princess, but we have no idea where to look for her. We don't know the wilderness south of the Heian Kingdom. The maps we have found all disagree about the terrain. Rumors say that you have spent time in the south. We need a guide. You won't have to fight. Once we find the Princess' hideout, you can leave. We'll take care of her forces."

I almost laugh. The Amberites do not come close to understanding the real strength of Old Man Jones. Nobody does. Dealing with the Amberites rebel princess would be no different from crushing ants for Old Man Jones.

In truth, even, I do not know how strong Old Man Jones really is. I have seen him kill a Demonic Beast that he offhandedly said was Rank 12, and he did not even break a sweat doing it. The Jewel Kingdoms or the empires at the center of the Great Plateau might have Cultivators, who rival his strength, but I would not say it is a certainty.

From Old Man Jones' estimates, a peak Martial King might reach the strength of a weaker Rank 12 Ferocious Beast, and even that is not a given. Demonic Beasts have three to ten times the strength of Ferocious Beasts. It would require at least the strength of a Martial Emperor to deal with one. Most likely, a Martial Sage would be needed, and they would not be able to kill a Rank 12 Demonic Beast as easily as Old Man Jones. A Martial Emperor stands five Cultivation realms above a Qi Condensation Cultivator.

Martial Emperors exist on the Great Plateau, but there are not that many. Little more than rumors exist regarding Martial Sage rank or stronger Cultivators. I doubt a Martial Emperor could beat Old Man Jones.

Old Man Jones points at me. "If you want to find them, talk to the brat. He's spent more time in the wildlands south of the kingdom than me."

As I scowl at Old Man Jones, Ragnar looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Is that true?"

With a scoff, I turn toward Ragnar. "I prefer the Demonic Wildlands, but I've spent some time wandering around to the south. Your renegade, royal bitch is probably holed up somewhere down there. I followed her airship back from the Wildlands but lost it at the Eastern Escarpment. By the time I climbed up, she was long gone. Within six hundred kilometers of Shizukana Gake, there are dozens if not hundreds of places for her to hide."

Ragnar frowns. "What did her airship look like?"

After I describe the airship, Ragnar's frown deepens. "Princess Deadre had an airship of her own, but that is not it."

I shrug. "She could have more than one. There are some ruins in the wildlands to the south where you could moor a lot of airships. Ten thousand people could live in those ruins and no one would ever know. Other than Beast hunters, not many people go into the southern wildlands."

Vorn butts into the conversation. "Beast, can you scout for my team?"

I snort. "Why don't you just capture some of them when they come for supplies?"

Vorn frowns. "They won't be back for about thirty days. They pick up their supplies five or six days before the full moon."

After I took Aoi home last night, we talked about the problem. The princess has to die, and we need to know where her source of Chaos is. It can't be on the Great Plateau; the Watch Towers would never allow it. I already planned to hunt down the princess. I look at Old Man Jones, but he just gives me a barely noticeable shrug.

"I'm going south tomorrow. I'll let you know what I find."

"Take me and my team with you."

I scowl at Vorn. "You'll give me away. Your steamers make too much noise. I'm going on foot."

Vorn scowls back at me. "Scouting the wildlands by foot will take too long."

"You ever been there? I'll cover more territory on foot, than you will on your steamer bikes."

"I don't have time to coddle an oversize ox-cat."

Vorn narrows his eyes. "Are trying to be insulting?"

"Figured that out on your own? I'm surprised."

"We've got a marital hall. No one will bother us."

Vorn bares his teeth in an expression that is not a grin. "Let's go!"

"Brat!"

"Your Highness!"

Ragnar and Old Man Jones' yells overlay one another. They look at one another, and Ragnar gestures toward Old Man Jones with one hand.

Jones glares at both Vorn and myself. "Stop fighting like a pair of dogs over a bone! Finding that bitch princess and her source of Chaos are too important for you two to waste time figuring out who has the bigger dick!"

Using my thumb, I point at Vorn. "Prince Kitty and his clown squad will only get in my way. I hunt better alone. You know that."

Vorn glares. "I'll leave my men behind, but I'm going with you."

"Take him with you, Brat!" An odor of implacable stubbornness fills Old Man Jones' scent. When he gets like that, he never gives up.

I dismissively look Vorn up and down. "Don't slow me down."

Vorn scoffs. "I can run you into the ground."

I smirk. "In your dreams.

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