“Now Izabelle, what are the three main types of bloodlines a person may be present with?” Henrietta asks while sitting in the carriage opposite her Mistress. Her hands are resting atop an open book of notes she had written to guide Izabelle’s education.

“Ummm, the first type of bloodline is a physical one where someone will have a stronger body.”

Henrieta nods, ”Correct, can you give me an example?”

Izabelle puts her hand on her chin, her forehead wrinkling as she forges her thoughts.

“The uhhhh, northern clans. They have a strength bloodline.”

Henrietta smiles, her tail flicking in delight.

“Do you remember the specific clan name?”

Izabelle shakes her head in response, her hair waving left and right.

“The clan name is Gelida and they indeed have a [Minor Strength Bloodline] which doubles all strength gains through leveling up. They are a strong and hardy people who have one of the most feared and powerful [warriors] in the world.”

Izabelle listens, always happy to learn about the skills and abilities people have. She had been introduced to the kids at an orphanage her father owned. She had played with the other kids, daydreaming of what class they would get and what skills they would use.

“But, that same clan has a second bloodline which is prevalent specifically in the leaders. A different bloodline type. Can you guess what it is?”

Izabelle frowns, ”Is it an affinity bloodline?” she asks unsurely.

Henrietta nods, ”Indeed it is. And how would one go about figuring out what affinity?”

Izabelle shakes her head, signifying that she does not know.

“Affinity bloodlines, unlike physical bloodlines, can only be convened through an affinity crystal and no other way. Even skills like [Analyze] or the much rarer [Advanced Analyze] which are found in Tier two classes do not reveal a person's affinity other than the number of affinities above one percent.”

Henrietta leans forward, her rather large breasts jiggling with the movement, ”Next question then. What is the difference between a regular and a minor affinity bloodline?”

Hearing a question she actually knows, a smile blooms on her face, causing Henrietta’s heart to beat slightly faster.

“A minor affinity bloodline is an affinity of at least ten percent. A regular affinity bloodline like mine is thirty percent.”

Henrietta claps her hands, “That is correct. Now, why does that matter?”

“Because of classes. If you have an affinity, you can get an affinity-based class.” Izabelle says, remembering what her tutor had explained after figuring out her own affinity.

“Good. Now, how about an example?”

Izabelle places her hand on her lips, looking around, finding her father on the other side of the carriage, looking out of the window.

“Um, the [Air Mage] class requires you to have a minor affinity in air magic. And the stronger version of the class requires normal affinity.”

“And what is the upgraded class to [Air Mage]?”

Izabelle bites her lip, ”I don't know,” she says with a pout.

Henrietta chuckles, finding the cute face Izabelle gives her rather hilarious. Not knowing the various classes of the world as a six-year-old is completely understandable, especially since she needs to be quite a bit older before she can get her first true class, not that [Noble] isn't a class. But the class itself is more of an addon than anything else as it barely restricts leveling speed of another class.

“The correct term is a Tier two class, a class which requires a minimum of level one hundred in at least one class. So, if an [Air Mage] became level one hundred, they would normally become an [Archmage] who specializes in air magic. Such people are sometimes referred to as an Air [Archmage]. But, if the [Air Mage] has a strong bloodline in Air, then they instead become an [Aeromancer], a vastly more powerful class than an [Archmage].”

Izabelle listens to Henrietta’s explanations with rapt attention, memorizing word for word which is spoken. Her [Tutor] before she left the kingdom had focused her studies on the world, the geography and how to be a proper [Noble]. Which is why she is a level 6 [Noble], though still lacking any skills. But lacking skills is normal since most skills show up every ten levels.

“Mancer classes are indeed powerful, thus, most noble houses are lead by a male individual with such a class. These house heads will only take a wife with at least a minor bloodline in their respective element to ensure that the child born will more than likely obtain the father’s bloodline.”

“So… is that why there are few heads which are women?” Izabelle asks curiously, having noticed that practically all of the nobility heads in her kingdom, the ones meeting with her father, were predominantly male.

Henrietta nods, ”that is unfortunately correct. A male head can have multiple wives, thus, increasing the chance of a male child born with the bloodline. Which is why you do not see female heads unless they are both extremely high in level in a Tier two class and a [Lady] class, or no male offspring is available.”

Izabelle frowns, remembering that her mother was the daughter of a low level noble who had a minor bloodline in water. The father had a normal affinity, but Izabelle’s mother was found to only have a minor bloodline as well.

But what surprised everyone when Isabelle was born, was that she had a normal bloodline in water, something that is extremely rare to happen considering Rathos has no bloodline nor is he a [Noble].

Still, Isabelle was blessed with extraordinary luck. With just her bloodline and [Noble] class, finding herself married into a powerful house would have been very simple.

But that will most likely no longer happen as the borderlands are not a place for political marriages.

“Now then, let's get back on topic,” Henrietta says, ”The leader of Gelida has the same bloodline affinity that you do. But, he is actually not a [Hydromancer], which is a tier two class of [Water Mage], something you can become. No, he chose to follow the class of [warrior] and [water mage]. What class do you think he has?”

Izabelle’s hand moves, touching the wooden armrest of the carriage, looking through her memories. Of classes, of people, of friends. And then she remembers a conversation she heard from her father, talking about one of his [Soldiers], combining his [Soldier] and [mage] class.

“[Battlemage]. It is, um, [Water BattleMage]. Right?”

Henrietta shakes her head, ”Close Iza, very close, but [Battle Mage], or as you probably guessed, [Water Battlemage], as strong as the class is, is still a Tier one class, though a rare and powerful one. But that is fine. His class is actually very unique and quite rare. He is a [Hydrophist].”

A confused look crosses Izabelle’s face, but Henrietta continues speaking.

“[Hydrophist] is not to be confused with [Hydromancer]. All phist classes are upgrades to an elemental [Battlemage] class while elemental [Mage] classes are instead mancers. Overall, a Phist type class tends to be stronger than a mancer class, but lack in wide range magic, as is common among mancer’s. This is something your father would be a far better person to explain to you.”

Izabelle turns and looks to her father, finding that he is still staring out of the window, his mind someplace else.

“Let him think,” Henrietta says, interrupting Izabelle as she was about to call out for her father.

“Master Rathos has a lot on his mind, it is best to leave him to his thoughts. Instead, how about you tell me about that last type of bloodline. The rarest type.”

Izabelle looks away from her father and then smiles, ”Bloodline Skills,” she says with confidence, having heard about them from one of the [maids].” They are very rare and have many requirements to obtain.”

Izabelle snorts, knowing that she got such information from Annesa, a [maid] under Rathos’ employ who is adamant about having a bloodline skill pertaining to fire magic. Unfortunately, Annesa lacks the ability to even become a mage due to her paltry mana and mana regeneration.

“Hehe, that is correct. I’m sure Annesa explained extensively the requirements.”

Izabelle quickly blushes to Henrietta’s words.

“Still, knowing the bloodlines is very important in understanding a kingdom’s leadership, especially if it is a kingdom who finds itself constantly at war...”

__________

As Henrietta continues to tutor Izabelle, Rathos continues to stare outside, finding a truly disheartening sight.

[Slaves]. Hundreds of [slaves] are out on the fields, working tirelessly on the crops while lower level [Slavers] and [Taskmasters] can be seen holding whips, waiting for even one [Slave] to get out of line.

The [Slaves] in question are all beastkin, half animal people who are lacking in mana but make up for it with a stronger physical body. They tend to have animal horns or ears and most of the time come with a tail.

Rathos used to be one of the people that ignored their plight, thinking that nothing can be done about them. That they were not as smart as regular humans.

But his mind was changed when he adopted that girl. And then, he was completely convinced when he met his wife, a [lady] who owned a significant number of orphanages that catered to both beastkin and human alike. She was a woman with a strong mind and did not give a shit about what the other nobles thought about her.

Which is something that Rathos found so extremely attractive. Never in his life did he meet anyone who was so adamant about beastkin being equal to humans.

A smile forms on Rathos’ lips, remembering how Nafisa wanted to prove her point that as a [Mercenary Leader] or a level over eighty, he really was not that strong.

So she had asked him to spar with one of her [Guards], a large Bearkin of thirty levels lower than his own. Rathos had laughed, saying that it would not take long.

Oh, how wrong he was, the fight had taken over twenty minutes and he was on the ground, sweating profusely while the bearkin stood over him with a lazy look on his face. It was clear that though he was a higher level, with a more powerful class, he still found himself severely out-skilled.

It was a truly humbling experience, and now he is all too happy to have the bearkin and his twin brother to serve and protect him.

It is because of his wife that he glares at the tattered clothing of the [Slaves], their defeated looks, the scars lining their body, and all he feels is anger at those responsible.

But that anger does not last long as he remembers where he is headed… deep into the borderlands, far away from the central continent and all its problems. He dearly hopes that he can build a new life now, away from prying eyes, to allow his daughter to grow safely.

……..

All for his daughter.

____________

About a half hour later, the first signs of a town come into focus, wooden wall’s of ten feet high can be seen surrounding it while two barely leveled [Guards] sit on a stool, one playing with a knife while the other is asleep.

The whole town to him just screams lazy and pathetic. The wall alone should be twice the size as any person with at least seventeen strength would be able to jump high enough to lift themselves over the wall.

But then, by the fact that the [Guards] aren't even level twenty and seemingly overweight, it seems that few if any people will have over seventeen strength.

One of the guards, noticing his heavily armed convoy moving towards the town, pushes the other guard, waking him up.

They point in his direction, yelling obscenities with each other and then the formerly asleep guard runs inside, probably to call someone of a better class.

Unfortunately, Rathos was quite mistaken as a large scowling man with the class of a level twenty-seven [Lieutenant] exits the town, his eyes looking warily at Gen’s mounted mercenaries, probably noticing the brandished steel and high-quality leather armor.

The [Lieutenant] mouth’s something, probably activating a [Analyze] skill and then stops, his eyes widening as he realizes that the mercenaries are over twice his level and several times the level of his [Guards] or possible [Soldiers] if you want to talk about the fact that they have a [Lieutenant], only one step up from a [Soldier], leading [Guards] instead of something like a [Guard Captain].

But then again, a [Guard Captain] requires a level of at least fifty and over a hundred [Guards] under his control.

The [Lieutenant] quickly yells something at his [Guard] and runs inside just as Rathos’ group gets within range of the town.

Gen quickly trudges forward, leading his procession as Rathos strains his ears to listen in on the conversation.

______

“I am a [Mercenary captain] hired by [Trader] Roth. He demands entrance to your town to sell his wares.”

At this point, the [Guard] pales, starting to shake in his boots as he attempts to speak, ”T-t- the entrance fee i-i-is five drachme per person.” he says, doing his best to avoid direct eye contact.

Gen lifts an eyebrow, staring at the trembling [Guard] and his blatant attempt to obtain a rather large sum of money.

Five drachme would be the usual rate for an entire family to enter a city.

But this is a town and on top of that, a very poor town with clearly corrupt leadership.

It would be better for them to waive the fee completely as a wealthy [Trader] just selling and buying goods could make a great deal of profit for the town.

But to Gen, it is clear this town must have a very short-sighted low-level leader.

Gen gives the trembling man a smile and dismounts his horse, which in turn causes the [Guard] to take a step back.

“Here's the deal. You’re going to step aside, my caravan will enter and if the leader of this town wants some form of payment for entering it, then you can notify them that they will need to speak to [Trader] Roth in person.” Gen explains.

The [Guards] eyes widen before he nods and runs into the city, probably heading towards that rather obese [lieutenant].

___________

Though Rathos has no skills to fully listen to conversations from a distance, he still has a high enough perception stat to see the expressions of the [guard], chuckling at the impressive way Gen had handled the situation.

Only a moment passes before his caravan starts to move once more, entering through the shoddy city gates.

And just like outside, the place was filthy. Slaves in rags can be seen on the sides of the main road, some working, other walking towards a direction, but most are gawking at his group, especially since his own carriage is of very high-quality design, even though the pictures which were painted on the outside had been painted over.

Looking around, Rathos notices the shoddily made structures to house the slaves. These buildings, if you can call them that, are filled with holes while the wood is old and decaying. The building only starts to improve as the caravan gets deeper… though not by much.

To Rathos, this place seems to be significantly worse than he was expecting. He figures that since the town is so far from the forsaken lands, that it would be thriving.

But it seems his expectations were quite mistaken.

He can only hope the cities deep within the lands are of better construction.

________________

A couple of moments pass by and his carriage stops. Getting up, he tells his daughter to wait for him while he exits his carriage in the town square, right in front of an inn.

Looking up, Rathos notices a decaying wood sign with the words ‘Sundered Lands Inn’.

Gen dismounts and walks up to Rathos, a frown on his face.

“This is apparently the best Inn in the town,” he explains, his own frown on his face as he looks at the decayed wood.

Regardless, it would still be much better to have a proper bed instead of constantly having to camp outside.

Rathos takes a deep breath, ignoring the horrid stench of the town and walks forward, opening the door and entering the Inn.

Immediately several faces turn to look at him, almost immediately turning away except for a muscular chiseled man who gestures to Rathos to come closer to the counter.

Which is what Rathos does, noting the rather clean insides of the room. Even though the wood of the walls and floor have aged, they are well maintained.

As Rathos reaches the counter, the level 22 [Innkeeper] and level 25 [Bar Fighter] quickly grabs a glass and pours some kind of dark liquid into it and slides it to Rathos.

Rathos looks at the cup and grabs it with his hand, noticing his ring, enchanted with [Detect Poison], is not glowing. He nods immediately takes a gulp of the liquid, a rather bitter but strong alcoholic drink.

The drink is clearly inferior to what he has been carrying or what he has been drinking, which was primarily wine. But he was a [Mercenary] before, so such a drink does not surprise him.

“I need all of your rooms. Every single one of them,” Rathos exclaims, noting slightly the startled look of the [Innkeeper]. Though to Rathos surprise, the [Innkeeper] regains his composure quickly.

“We have 35 open rooms… each room will cost 3 drachme a night. Meals are a drachme each. Meals for horses is another drachme. If you need a basin of hot water, that will cost another two drachme. If you need a girl for the night, that will be another two drachme.”

The costs were… surprisingly cheap. Even Gen had lifted an eyebrow at the price, expecting to have to haggle to lower it. But Rathos just nods, reaching into his bag of holding, a rather expensive enchanted item which is enchanted with [Increased Space] and [Lowered Weight], allowing him to fit significantly more items inside it while also making said items weigh only a fraction.

Digging in, Rathos retrieves 10 silver drachme, coins which are each equal to fifty drachme each and places them on the table to the innkeepers surprise.

“I will take all the rooms, including a bath and two meals for every person, including the horses and oxen. If my people want a girl, then they will pay it themselves. We will be leaving tomorrow morning. Any coin left over is yours to keep.”

At this point, Alfonso, which is the [Innkeepers] name, widens his eye at the coins on his table. He quickly scoops them up.

“I will have the rooms prepared immediately,” he states, gesturing to the two serving [Slave] girls and quickly relaying orders while pointing upstairs and downstairs. The girls quickly nod and run towards the stairs while the Innkeeper himself runs towards the kitchen.

“You are a shitty [Trader]” Gen voices out from his side.

Rathos wrinkles his eyebrows as he looks towards the [Mercenary Captain], ”how so?”

“Because you could have lowered the price to possibly only a hundred drachme, with the girls included.”

Rathos rolls his eyes, money is not a problem for him right now as he currently carries significantly more.

But then he frowns when he thinks that such spending may very well attract unwanted attention to him.

“I should have kidnapped my [Quartermaster],” Rathos whispers under his breath, eliciting a smile from Gen.

“Whatever. What's done is done. I’ll go see if I can sell some of my goods.” Rathos says, turning around and walking outside the Inn.

_____

Moments pass and a stall is quickly formed at the central trading area of the town with several goods on tables, displaying items ranging from alcohol, wine, leather, and various other goods, which, to Rathos’ understanding, Is lacking in the borderlands, cursed lands, sundered lands, and whatever other name the locals call the southeastern continent, a place so devoid of mana that no kingdom outside is willing to attempt to conquer. Controlling and ruling over it would be more expensive than just leaving the place alone.

Rathos frowns as he watches his maid as she attempts to sell a rather beautiful garment to an older woman, only for her to notice the rather steep price and walk away.

Most people which have seen the price of his goods had attempted to haggle the price down significantly, but his maids were adamant about making a profit, forcing many customers to walk away. Some have even resorted to violence, which did not go well for them as his two bearkin [Guards] were able to quickly deal with anyone effectively.

Unfortunately, it seems that his goods are too costly with only the wine selling to [slavers].

As he was deep in thought, Henrietta shows up, her hair and tail slightly wet after having a bath inside her room.

“Mistress has been cleaned and is now sleeping,” she informs Rathos who looks up, finding that the sun is slowly setting.

It seems that Izabelle had been tired from the trip and had preferred to sleep early.

“I see…”

“Henrietta… I am having my doubts if my plan to raise my daughter here was a good idea,” Rathos says as he leans against one of his carts, arms folded across his chest.” If the borderlands are just like this town, then I fear for my daughter’s well being. I do not want her to grow up around such a horrible place.”

Henrietta nods, her own thoughts were on the same thing. So she had talked to the [Innkeeper], who was more than eager to explain the situation.

“All of the towns and villages at the border of these lands are extremely poor.”

Rathos gives the foxkin a confused look, signifying her to continue.

“The lands deeper in are apparently rife with [Bandits] and [Thieves], but of a much lower level. But here, so close to the central kingdoms, those [Bandits] and [Thieves] are of a much higher level. So much higher than it is within their ability to take over a town several times a year.”

At that explanation, Rathos relaxes, realizing that the much higher level [bandits], like the ones he had just fought, had probably taken over this town already… and robbed it several times.

“I see… thank you for that.”

Henrietta bows towards her master, happy to be helpful to Izabelle’s father.

He releases a deep breath and turns towards the sun, finding its light slowly starting to disappear.

And just as he was about to order the goods packed back up, the sound of several mounted individuals grab Rathos’ attention.

Eight people ride in on horses, mostl of which seem armed in some way. One of the men is the same [Lieutenant] which he had seen at the entrance.

The horses stop a couple of meters away from him and all of the men dismount, including a short man in a robe with a scowl on his face.

That man is clearly the leader of the town as the armed men surrounding him take to his sides.

Rathos activates his [Silent Analyse] skill as they start to head towards him.

Antos Renish

Level 32 [Lord]

Level 47 [Slaver]

Rathos lifts an eyebrow at the man's levels, clearly higher than anyone else in town, but also far lower than his own.

No, what interests him is the woman next to him.

Kasandra

Level 46 [Mage]

Level 22 [Slave]

She is a foxkin just like Henrietta, except that while Henrietta has a dark, slightly blue tail, Kasandra has a vibrant orange one. A common color for the foxkin.

Looking around, the other men around Antos are all [Soldiers], each in the high twenties with one of them at the level of thirty.

They approach him, Antos giving Rathos a look of someone finding fresh prey.

As the man is a couple of meters away, he turns to the fat [Lieutenant], ”What is his level?”

“[Analyse],” the [Lieutenant] exclaims, immediately activating his skill, a skill which impacts Rathos’ aura, unable to find purchase.

The [Lieutenants] expression changes to a frown as he instead is given a garbled mess of information, a clear sign of a [Analyse] spell failing.

“It's not working,” he says out loud, turning to look at Antos.

“What do you mean it’s not working? How does it not work?” Antos asks.

“S-sir, I don't know. My skill just isn't working. I don't know why.”

The [Slaver]’s expression turns angry as he looks towards Rathos, ”How are you blocking [Analyse]? That should not be possible.” he yells, his aura expanding out, converging over Rathos.

“Answer Me!” he yells, activating a skill called [Minor Authority], a useful ability that a [Lord] may obtain to control his subjects or in general… other people.

But to Rathos, a greatly experienced [General], it is but a child's attempt to manipulate. With utmost ease, the aura pressing down on him disappears.

Rathos straightens his back and stops leaning on the cart, the level of threat these people pose to him is practically nonexistent.

But still, that is no reason to not keep up your guard. All it takes is one mistake for a person to lose his life.

With a wave of his head, he directs Henrietta behind him as he takes a confident step forward, aura brimming at his call, ready to act as needed.