Return of the Runebound Professor Chapter 868: Mordred's Preparations

For a brief moment, Mordred gazed at the empty space where his dating deck had occupied before. His lips tightened into a thin line.

“You know, that deck never really worked out. I might have to craft a fresh one.”

“Perhaps you'd fare better ditching it altogether,” Noah proposed. “But seriously, is that our top priority at the moment? There appear to be far more urgent issues demanding attention.”

“Ah. Indeed.” Mordred flashed a grin. He snatched his coat and draped it over his shoulders once more. “Our alliance. It'll prove highly rewarding. I'm eager to uncover more about you, Lee. Questions abound for me.”

“We get it,” Brayden stated bluntly.

“Questions to be exchanged for equal value,” Mordred went on with bright cheer. He delved into his coat once more, rummaging through the fastened pockets until he extracted a tiny package wrapped in paper. Delicate runes were scribbled faintly over the crinkled surface. With ease, he unwrapped it, exposing a compact cubic piece resembling solid gelatin.

Lee's gaze locked onto it right away.

“What’s that?”

“Food,” Mordred answered with a cunning grin. “Glutinous rice mixed with sugar. Zero nutrition whatsoever. Just a gooey lump, really. Though it tastes delightful. I'd deem this a gesture of goodwill.”

“A gesture? Why not lead with that?” Lee questioned. She emerged from Brayden's shadow. She plucked the little treat from the paper and shoved it past her lips. One chew followed. Her forehead creased faintly. Another chew came.

A spark of astonishment rippled through Noah.

Several more seconds passed before Lee could force down the candy. She looked nearly as baffled as Noah felt.

Her eyes then sharpened.

“Well?” Mordred inquired, his gaze sparkling. “Your verdict?”

“Why so chewy?” Lee demanded. “Rice doesn't chew like that.”

“I remembered our last encounter,” Mordred responded, meticulously refolding the paper into a neat square and slipping it back into his pocket. “Your nose is extraordinarily sharp… and you seem capable of devouring almost anything. Yet you scarcely munched the tainted meat I handed you—”

“Tainted?” Brayden snapped.

“Didn't realize she was smart back then,” Mordred dismissed with a casual flick of his wrist. “She demanded it before I could propose. She knew it was poisoned too. Blame lies elsewhere. When folks beg for known poison, it's my divine privilege to oblige and observe the outcome.”

Brayden hesitated briefly. He shot a look at Lee and coughed lightly.

“I could almost accept that.”

“Still no explanation for the chewiness,” Lee pointed out. “Got extras?”

“It's infused,” Mordred said. “And yes, more exists. But no extras for you yet. Not before my queries get replies.”

“Should've led with this,” Lee insisted. “Hand over another. I crave more.”

“Wait a sec,” Noah interjected. “You infused candy? For what reason? And how?”

“A power infusion,” Mordred explained. “Just like those in Crystals.”

Noah narrowed his eyes at the man. Mordred's reply carried the assumption that Noah ought to grasp power infusions instantly. Regrettably, Noah hadn't the slightest clue.

“What’s that?” Lee wondered, sparing Noah the trouble of phrasing his ignorance discreetly.

“Identical infusions as on crystals,” Mordred elaborated, cocking his head a touch. “Runes are torn apart and converted to pure power, stored inside. That's the source of crystals' worth. Useless otherwise if magic can't be extracted, right?”

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“So you applied the same to the candy Lee just ate?” Brayden pressed.

“Not personally,” Mordred denied, shaking his head. “Far too extravagant a use of magic. Naturally, I outsourced it. The enchantment toughens the snack, extends its shelf life. Maybe boosts flavor too, but I skipped tasting. My chompers wouldn't endure it.”

“Understood,” Lee nodded wisely. “Gimme another.”

“Patience,” Mordred countered. “Merely a sample. Supplies are limited for freebies. I must prioritize my key questions first. Meanwhile, no need to linger. Ready for your tournament?”

Noah held still a beat. Then he agreed with a nod. “Sounds optimal. Though I wonder, will they permit your entry?”

Mordred fished into his bottomless pockets anew. Out came a compact round cloth packet, badge-like in form. “Naturally. I'm entered. Anticipating this turn, I snagged several badges ahead of time.”

“You grabbed badges in advance, betting you'd tag along to our tournament?” Brayden queried warily.

“Hmm?” Mordred cocked his head sideways. “Bought? Why in the world would I bother? Badges come free. You simply grab them.”

“Really?” Brayden said. “I had to pay for mine.”

“Did you slay the owner before or after claiming the badge?” Mordred inquired. “Either way, the outcome stays the same. Just don’t leave the coins on the corpse, naturally.”

Mordred clearly hadn’t entertained the idea of acquiring a badge through legitimate purchase.

Silence hung for several moments. Then Noah cleared his throat.

“One quick question before we set off. It hits me that I’m not from Aqua Terra,” Noah stated deliberately. “In keeping with our alliance… mind briefing me on how everything operates here? Won’t the Prophet take issue with you slaying folks left and right? Or does that fall under perks of her employment?”

Mordred’s eyebrows knitted together. “I didn’t murder anybody. Your wording makes it sound like I started it. If they didn’t want death, they shouldn’t have struck first. What sort of place do you imagine Aqua Terra to be? Self-defense is always allowed.”

“It sure seemed like you killed to steal their badges,” Lee pointed out.

“Oh, absolutely,” Mordred confirmed.

All of them gawked at him.

“You lured them into striking so it qualified as self-defense?” Noah surmised.

“Spot on,” Mordred affirmed with a crisp nod. “Not difficult at all. Enforcing rules in a massive city like this proves challenging. Major violations, yes. But minor brawls? No chance. Not even for the Prophet. As long as folks behave decently in view of others, shady deeds in the shadows get overlooked. Avoid big disturbances, and you’ll do alright.”

A grin tugged at Noah’s mouth edges. Unwittingly, the Prophet had crafted the ideal setup for his ambitions.

Her city concealed most folks’ capacity to gauge another’s true strength. Sure, that prevented random assaults everywhere, but it also made bluffing through encounters far simpler.

Beyond that… with everyone striving for civility and upholding society’s thin facade of decorum, Noah could push boundaries far more than back in the Damned Plains.

A soft chuckle escaped Noah.

His strategy remained unchanged. Noah had to attract notice, though attention came in varying flavors. He’d stick to his Obsidia arrival tactics—carving a reputation in the tournament while ensuring he never perished. At least not under watchful eyes. No way did he want a mighty Rank 8 deeming him ripe for dissection and snatching him away.

“Hold up before we go,” Noah said, hand on the doorknob as he looked back at Mordred. “Got a question. How familiar are you with Aqua Terra’s political landscape?”

“I know a bit,” Mordred answered. “No expert by any means. Human intrigues barely interest me. Politics sit worlds apart from art and science. Why do you ask?”

“Someone piqued my curiosity,” Noah said offhandedly. “Long shot, I know, but working for the Prophet and such… what can you tell me about a sinister shadow woman known as Mistress?”

Mordred stiffened rigidly. His gaze whipped around to lock onto Noah, expression shifting to grim intensity.

“Where’d you learn that name?”