Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 865: Great Scheme

Og nearly spat out his tea.

Coughing violently, he bent forward, barely avoiding shattering the teacup against the plate while struggling not to spray the liquid from his mouth onto the restaurant's floor. A blend of shock and bewilderment filled the informant's gaze as he stared. Half-standing from his chair already, he resembled a frightened field mouse poised to flee at the slightest danger.

“Are you—” the man began.

“Sit down,” Og snarled, snatching a napkin to wipe his lips before flinging it onto the table. “What did you just say? Who?”

“Spider?” The man echoed, confidence waning this time. He edged even closer to the seat's brink.

That didn't sound right at all. Og put little stock in coincidences. Orlen had proven beyond doubt that none existed in the universe. Chaos and order formed the dual faces of one coin; failing to grasp either didn't mean random chance.

Similarities between two things could always occur naturally. Such patterns weren't coincidences. They permeated everything, and logical minds naturally hunted for them. Rational people grasped at patterns and likenesses to hold on to. That's how human thought advanced.

Yet the odds of two people sharing the alias Spider seemed slim. Particularly since both matched the criteria Og had specified for the informant.

No amount of doubt altered the words he'd just heard.

“What exactly is this Spider up to?” Og demanded. “Share everything you know.”

The informant gulped nervously. He appeared set to dash away.

“I—well—”

Og held back a sigh. Straightening up properly, he spread the fingers of one hand wide on the table, signaling to the skittish fellow opposite that he posed no threat. From his ring, with the other hand, he produced a small pouch and dropped it onto the surface.

“For your efforts,” Og stated.

Once more, the informant swallowed. Tentatively, he grabbed the bag and drew it near, peeking inside. His eyes grew a tad wider. Glancing back at Og, the fear vanished in an instant. Greed's shine had erased it completely.

“There's not much solid info on Spider,” the informant declared, now sounding assured. “Mostly just rumors, and plenty of them are likely false. That's how it works with hearsay. That's why I don't peddle in rumors. I sell them. The instant you buy into them rather than using them to track your mark's location… you'll swallow a bunch of falsehoods.”

“Never mind that now,” Og cut in. “Spill the rumors. I couldn't care less if they're nonsense. You've got your pay. Whether I look like a fool is my issue.”

The informant paused briefly, then shrugged. “Fair enough. Truth is, half the issue here is the rumors contradict each other. Many just don't fit together.”

“In what way?” Og pressed. Though itching to urge the man onward, Og had chosen him deliberately. As a skilled tracker, any oddity he noted was bound to matter.

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“For starters, the locations strike me as strange. They're all over the place. A few trace back to Coral's outskirts, but then they zigzag wildly. No pattern whatsoever. It's as if he pops into cities out of nowhere, performs some impressive deed, and vanishes right after.”

Og cocked his head. “And how is that strange?”

“No one travels that way. He's not sightseeing, right?” The informant shook his head. “Nope. If the tales hold water—and that's a huge if—none of it adds up. Powerhouses like those you tasked me with don't wander aimlessly. Every other target you mentioned headed exactly as predicted: directly to Aqua Terra.”

“What about Spider?”

“Hard to tell. He likely reached here eventually. Sort of. His route trended toward the city,” the informant replied, shrugging again. “But it was so ridiculously roundabout it can't be legit. Makes him look like a total dimwit.”

“Maybe he is one,” Og drawled lazily.

The informant disagreed with a head shake. “If so, the rumors fall apart. Listen, the exploits attributed to him clash with that idiotic trail. Spider first appeared in reports from a border town about a Hand who eradicated a bandit camp.”

“Bandits scarcely test true strength.”

“They aren’t,” the informant confirmed. “Yet whispers claim the Prophet dispatched the Executioner to hunt him down. I’ll cover that shortly, though. Ever since Spider’s name first echoed across the empire, sightings matching his build have linked him to the slaying of the Star Dragon and its partner—two formidable Rank 6 beasts. That’s merely the beginning. He also appeared in the Ice Wretch mountains precisely when a Coral Empire strike squad, known for its ruthlessness, was deployed to eliminate a rampaging monster there.”

“And?” Og pressed.

“Every member vanished,” the informant replied. He leaned in closer. “Everyone except Spider. No word from the squad yet, and the Ice Wretch beast has disappeared. To save us both time, I’ll bypass the lesser tales and jump to the key one: the Executioner.”

“What about him? You’re not suggesting Spider took down the Executioner,” Og questioned, his pulse quickening slightly. Such an accomplishment lay beyond even his own abilities. Among the Coral Empire’s mightiest powers, the Executioner was the last one he’d ever want to provoke. Victory against that foe was utterly impossible for him.

This Spider bore no resemblance to the feeble Chaos wielder he’d encountered in Arbalest. Should this be the identical individual… a profound transformation had occurred. Something monumental.

“Hardly,” the man responded. “Here’s the twist, though. Silence follows that point. Zero updates on the Executioner. No confirmed kill. And his strikes never drag on like this.”

“Are you saying Spider truly repelled the Executioner?” Og demanded, incredulous.

The informant gave a shrug. “Now you grasp my dilemma, right? Just rumors. How much holds truth? At heart, they’re mere fireside yarns. Not solid enough to stake much on. But should you lend them credence… you’d wonder: why would a figure of such apparent might roam without direction?”

Og’s forehead creased. Indeed, that posed an excellent query. Fools with great strength existed aplenty. Yet a powerhouse whom folks mistook for a Hand, who’d vanquished several Rank 6 monsters and slipped the Executioner’s grasp—raw might alone couldn’t sustain that far. When a mighty being prowls another’s Empire, igniting chaos for no clear motive, it’s likely the observers who’ve overlooked the intent.

The mighty seldom acted devoid of aim. Orlen exemplified this perfectly. Chaotic and broken as he seemed, every move that man made served a purpose. An outsider ignorant of Orlen might deem him wholly mad upon first glance.

A cold dread crept over Og’s shoulders. Two paths lay before him, neither ringing true. He could have brushed off the tales as the informant advised, save for the name tied to them.

Spider.

Og’s jaw tightened. That cursed name haunted him relentlessly. It refused to fade. Coincidences didn’t exist in this world.

One possibility dissolved in his mind. A figure matching the criteria he’d described to the informant… Orlen wouldn’t have ignored such a one.

No question remained. This was undoubtedly the Spider from Arbalest. Which implied Spider had, against all odds, endured a fate that spelled doom. A survival Og couldn’t have achieved himself.

The gripping unease around Og intensified. In his encounter with Spider, he’d overlooked something crucial.