The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Sitting across, Oscar eyed his so-called brother-in-law, who sat directly on the other side of the burning flame with a stern look as if scrutinizing him back. To be frank, he didn't trust him. Though Avila, Avril's sister, chose him, Oscar knew nothing about him, while Serit knew almost everything in Oscar's life except for his relationship with Avril, which unsettled him. There was no way the Defiants didn't need Isaac's brilliant inventions hidden in his memories. Ollanar seemed plenty content to stay off him and respect Isaac's wishes, but Oscar could never count on goodwill alone, especially after Elder Saul's betrayal. Also, others in the Defiants might have different outlooks and ideas on his existence.

'Not a single organization is a monolith. Is Serit coveting my knowledge or not?' Oscar thought as he stoked the flames. Embers rose and floated like fireflies, mimicking the starry night on the snowy peak as if they swam in a sea of stars. He glanced behind Serit, where his men kept a good distance, allowing their leader to converse alone, their clothes caked in dry blood. Serit was also observed behind Oscar, his pupils reflecting the wolves, his Azure Sea Company, and Astrid, and a hint of displeasure formed a frown along his usually tight lips. Oscar held in a chuckle, imagining Serit's thoughts wandering to the worst-case scenario of a battle breaking out. 'At least, he's prudent enough.'

"I believe introductions are in order. I am Oscar Terr. My wife is Avril Terr, formerly Avril Venelair, your wife's younger sister." He removed his helmet and rustled his black hair that clung to his sweaty head. His dark pupils locked on Serit. "I am Isaac's heir."

Serit's red eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously under the cover of darkness like a hunter prowling at night. He coughed, clearing his throat, and bowed, "I am Serit Venelair. Yes, I took on my wife's last name, for I had none of my own from the start. My wife is Avila Venelair. I am one of the chief intelligence officers of the Defiants. It's funny; no matter how much I searched, I couldn't find my little sister-in-law. My dear brother-in-law sure did a fine job hiding her."

"Your information was severely lacking. I suggest you fire your hidden agents." Oscar smirked, intent on provoking Serit to gauge his reaction. To his disappointment, Serit merely sighed heavily and grumbled about doing such when leaving Fallen Heaven. A true intelligence officer, indeed, he didn't show any outward reaction. But Oscar was satisfied and lowered the flames, extending out a hand. "I suppose we should trust each other first. Can't get anything done without a proper agreement."

Serit glanced at his outstretched hand and crossed his arms, denying to return the favor. In a low voice, as if interrogating Oscar, Serit said, "I don't trust you."

"Why is that?" Oscar asked.

"Belnicce Port." Serit's words struck Oscar's head, an aching stinging the nerves of his brain like daggers stabbing into his skull as memories of a beautiful port, an abandoned warehouse, and a great inferno brightening a cruel massacre surfaced. Oscar scratched his head in a casual show, but really, he dug his fingers, pressing on his temples to alleviate this headache. It was all Demon's fault, not his. Serit scoffed and sharpened his face, Ein rising from his shoulders, and Oscar clenched a fist wreathed in Eirin. The two groups behind them leaned forward, some already crouching to intervene and fight.

"What about the port?" Oscar released a slow breath, calming his racing heart.

"That man in the cloak who approached us was Erden, someone who knew you and Avril. I can't trust scum who desires to harm children without a single thought. I can't trust those who associate with such abominable inhuman filth." Serit was right to be angry. Oscar couldn't fault him for that. Serit pointed at him, a sharp Ein protruding from his finger. "I saw the recordings and how your ally butchered many and even approached children. What's even worse? You were the man in the armor with the deer pelt on his shoulder who stopped the massacre. Was it a falling out? Or a bloody play to trick everyone. You direct the killing and saving and hoard all the rewards. Isn't that so?"

"That wasn't me in the armor. And that wasn't my friend who killed the people." Oscar knew Demon's actions in the past would come back to bite him. He closed his eyes, seeing Demon walk toward the crying mother and her child in the auction house, a white sword about to descend on them. "Trust me, I'm the one who wants retribution for those cruel acts. I do take responsibility for being unable to stop them."

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Since Serit was a chief intelligence officer, it stood to reason Oscar's brother-in-law had a knack for telling lies from the truth, able to read the emotions of others. Oscar stared against Serit's inquisitive gaze, a flicker of confusion passing by those red pupils. There was no falsehood in his words. He had spoken the truth in a technical sense. Demon wasn't his friend and slaughtered the people, and Erden, in his body, stopped him. He had no part in the violence in Belnicce port, but he felt responsible for being asleep the entire time that allowed it to occur.

Serit relaxed his Ein, presumably placated by Oscar's words. "I'll believe you for now, or perhaps you're the greatest liar in the world. Either way, I have no choice but to abide by the orders of the great–"

"Adventi," Oscar spoke up. He timed it in the moment of Serit's relaxing, hopeful to catch him off-guard with this single word. But Serit remained undisturbed by it, either a great actor or ignorant of its meaning. On the edges of his vision, he spotted one of Serit's men's finger twitch and frowned, having caught one in the act, Eirin blazing around his limbs in Pseudoguise to fight. "Is that what you wish for, brother-in-law? I never imagined that man's crazy dream would be the desire of so many. A Divine Enforcer even asked me for it."

"Damn," Serit glanced at the man who reacted, an icy stare piercing into him. The man who screwed up bowed his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. Without a word, the subordinate rolled up his sleeve, exposing his bare flesh to the cold, and readied his blade, raising it high as his hand clenched.

"Stop," Oscar unleashed his Eirin, filling the air with his overpowering presence.

"He failed in his duty. He deserves death. We're soldiers and can't allow a risk." Serit justified the act and nodded for the man to continue.

"And since your oaths bind you, listen to my command. Don't do it. If you do, I'll kill everyone else here." Oscar didn't want another death on his conscience. He hoped his bluff would work, and it did. Breathing a secret sigh of relief, Oscar relaxed once the man dropped the blade and sat alone in shame.

"Adventi. Indeed, some of our vice-leaders want us to take it from you. But the great Ollanar ordered we don't threaten or coerce you. He preferred if you granted it by your own decision." Serit spilled the truth.

"But some of them think differently and have sent their subordinates out to follow a different order. Isaac had many brilliant inventions, but if it's between Adventi and the arsenal of golems and ships, I can see why they might disregard the latter for Adventi." Oscar groaned inwardly, cursing the damned Gol-4 for bringing more trouble to him. His attention turned to the stars as he wondered what sort of peaceful life he could live if they hunted him for Reis and Isaac's inheritance. The allies grew thin, and his enemies were emboldened.

"I assure you that I am not in the camp of the others. I follow the great Ollanar's words. As do my men." Serit said, pressing his hand over his heart in a solemn vow.

"I still don't trust you," Oscar said frankly. "You know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. Who are you? Where do you come from? How did you meet Avila? And what is your destination? You know the answer to each question very well for me, but I must know the answers for you. So tell me."

The flame crackled in the dead silence befalling the mountain, embers spewing forth from its blazing form. Serit wiped his sweaty brow and tidied his golden hair, his eyes sticking to Oscar. Clicking his tongue, either on purpose or not, Serit asked, "And what if I refuse? Just for clarity's sake."

"Then, I will kill everyone behind you and drag you along with me to find our wives." Oscar let out a chilling voice, Demon speaking this time for a profound effect. The group of Defiants shuddered and rose to their feet, brandishing their weapons and Ein. Oscar's group rallied in response. Gnar howls echoed down the mountain slope, triggering a slight avalanche that rumbled below.

"You're a contradictory fellow. One minute, you want my failed man to live, but now you're prepared to kill them?" Serit showed no anxiousness, speaking normally as the ground quaked.

"One minute is enough for me to judge whether you are allies or enemies. Ollanar's words don't mean anything to me." Oscar did prefer not to kill potential allies, but any potential threat to him and his wife had to be eliminated.

The avalanche ended, and the ground settled back to normal. Serit and Oscar stared off. The chief intelligence officer sighed, "A pity, you're completely serious. Fine, I'll answer all of your questions. After that, may I know what Adventi is? Simple curiosity. They withheld that information, but I am a curious man."

"Deal. It's not a big secret if every Primaere and their close subordinates know about it. And there's not much you can do with that knowledge." Oscar restarted the flames that had died down from Gnar's chilling howl. The warmth of the fire tickled his skin, bringing a healthy flush to his face.

"That hurts my pride. Intel and knowledge can always be weaponized." Serit sat closer to the flames and breathed deeply. "I don't recall much, but I can say how I and Avila met and joined the Defiants. Our long battle against the Primal Council started when we were kids. Yup, those were truly hellish times."

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