The Glorious Evolution

Meanwhile... In Africa’s Eternal Empire.

Silence filled the throne chamber as Bishop Na’thir examined the report before him, leaving his three elites waiting in silence.

A broker had brought him information about Idriss Morningstar some time ago.

Apparently, the Blood Hunters’ leader had joined the Blood Arts Academy on Cruor, the First Vein, seeking a way to advance beyond Solarbound.

The broker found him while checking the names in Na’thir’s search database, which listed anyone connected to Heliodor... especially the Heliodor Raiders and those close to them.

Na’thir ordered his people to investigate, and just today, they finally confirmed the broker’s report.

They verified his enrollment, traced his movements, and discovered that he had left the academy a week earlier for an expedition to recover the nearest holy region’s ruins under the terms of his enrollment contract.

After the expedition ended, his people lost track of him, but they believed that he remained in the area to train in seclusion.

Yet, even with such an opportunity before him, Na’thir still hadn’t given the order.

He remembered rejecting Rain’s suggestion of kidnapping Levi’s acquaintances to use as hostages.

His reputation within the Organization had already suffered enough without adding something so embarrassing to it.

A Bishop, forced to threaten a child’s acquaintances because he couldn’t get his hands on him?

His peers would never let him hear the end of it... especially Va’ren.

Unfortunately, the alternatives gave him nothing but one failure after another.

He sent Fang and Rain into the Faction War through their clones, intending to kill Levi’s brother and friends before his eyes... to break him so thoroughly that hatred would drag him straight into Na’thir’s grasp.

Instead, both clones perished, and everyone Levi cared about was saved.

Then, he sent his elites to track him through his Mr. Problem identity in the Boundless Expanse... only for them to return without a useful opportunity to strike.

Even the chaos he helped spread across Earth failed to force the boy’s hand.

Na’thir called in favors, kept potential reinforcements occupied, and sent his dogs to turn Heliodor’s region upside down... all to make Levi return before his home fell apart.

Yet, Levi responded by hiring mercenaries... powerful enough that Na’thir recalled his elites before they lost more than their dignity.

Na’thir had a million ways to kill Levi himself... but the unofficial treaty with the Saviors kept him from acting openly.

He wasn’t running out of options... he was running out of ones he could use without breaking that damned treaty.

At Levi’s current pace, it wouldn’t be long before he surpassed all three of his elites. Once that happened, Na’thir could forget about sending them to kill him... he would be waiting to hear which of his dogs died first.

His attention returned to Idriss’s image.

He had previously doubted that Levi would risk himself for an acquaintance, yet the boy spent a fortune protecting his home region.

’If this gets the boy into my hands... my reputation can go to hell.’

Bishop Na’thir’s shadowy eyes narrowed.

’Dead or alive... I’ll have him. My promotion to a Knight Piece will follow soon enough... then let’s see which of those bastards dares raise his head before me.’

Na’thir swallowed the last of his pride and ordered:

”Bring Idriss Morningstar to me.”

Rain stopped going through the report, recognizing the decision for what it was... though he wisely kept any reminder of his earlier suggestion to himself.

Fang paid more attention to the human’s image.

”What condition do you want him in?”

”Alive,” Na’thir replied coldly. ”Whatever you need to break to make that happen is your concern... but if he dies, you have failed.”

The werewolf accepted the restriction without arguing. Taking one isolated human with all three of them shouldn’t require killing him... even if keeping him alive made the task less enjoyable.

”Idriss... huh.” The Hound sneered. ”This should be fun.”

He knew that name well... one of Seraphis’ oldest friends, whose face appeared throughout the fallen king’s spiritual trial.

Their adventures remained among its clearest memories... from Seraphis saving a bleeding young Idriss inside a Midnight Dominion nest to the years they spent fighting beside each other across different worlds.

The Hound had experienced enough of those memories to understand how much that friendship meant to the fallen king... which made this task all the more enjoyable.

Before dismissing them, Na’thir opened another contact.

Cruor’s campaign belonged to a different Bishop, whose empire oversaw the continent containing the Blood Arts Academy’s territory.

Within the Duskbound Order, Bishops were bound to respect one another’s boundaries.

Na’thir couldn’t simply enter a colleague’s territory and start settling his private affairs... nor could he pretend that sending his dogs made the intrusion any less obvious.

Hound, Fang, and Rain weren’t sworn members of the Organization, but everyone who mattered knew whom they served.

They were valuable assets under his command... and his peers knew exactly how to use that against him.

The connection opened, revealing a shadowy image of the Bishop responsible for the territory.

”Na’thir... to what do I owe the displeasure?”

Bishop Na’thir ignored the rude comment and stated his request.

”I need sponsorship for three of my people.”

Na’thir shared their identities, but he didn’t explain anything else... his peer showed some interest in their visit, but Na’thir refused to give out any details.

Fortunately, curiosity didn’t stop the Bishop from naming his price.

The sponsorship would authorize their entry and operation... a small expense compared to whatever ransom his colleague might demand after catching his three uninvited dogs.

It was annoying to pay for something that should have been so simple... still, Na’thir refused to leave another opening for someone to squeeze him.

”Keep their visit brief.”

”They have no reason to linger.”

The call ended, and Na’thir transferred the authorization to his elites.

”He should still be in the ruins’ vicinity. Find him... then report before making your move.”

Rain examined the location again.

”If he stayed this far from the academy, we should have enough time to take him.”

”Should?” Bishop Na’thir asked coldly.

Fang abandoned whatever comment he intended to make.

Their master wasn’t interested in promises tonight... and after their recent failures, none of them possessed the results to make those promises worth hearing.

The three prepared to leave when Na’thir called them back.

”And if you return without him...”

His hand settled on the giant three-headed white hound resting beside his throne.

All three heads rose at his touch, their mouths opening as he stroked the thick fur.

”Prepare yourselves for the White Feast.”

Fang shivered, while Rain’s tired indifference vanished... even the Hound felt a chill run down his spine.

Their bodies had grown stronger over the years, but none of them had forgotten those mouths sinking into their limbs when they were young... tearing away chunks of flesh and staining the creature’s white fur red with their blood, all while Na’thir watched.

Begging never helped.

Sometimes, it only convinced their master that the lesson needed to continue.

With this traumatic reminder in mind, the three elites departed with cold-blooded gazes... nothing was going to stop them from succeeding this time... nothing!

***

Meanwhile, inside the European Eternal Empire...

The moment the three elites left the throne chamber, Bishop Va’ren received a call from the same Bishop who had accepted Na’thir’s payment.

”I finally found the three coffee blends you asked about,” he snitched with a faint smirk. ”They’re on their way.”

Va’ren understood the message at once.

Na’thir had sent all three.

”Excellent... let me know when they arrive.”

”Of course.”

The call ended, leaving Va’ren with the confirmation he awaited.

He had contacted their colleague well before Na’thir, paying him to report any request involving Na’thir in case he took the bait... and the Bishop was more than happy to earn twice from the same visit.

After all, Na’thir purchased sponsorship for his people and his silence on the matter... but the contract terms mentioned nothing about coffee blends.

Va’ren contacted Darius next.

The call connected to the familiar rabbit mask hiding Demetris Bane’s deteriorating face.

”Ready yourself,” Va’ren said. ”The gears are turning at last.”

Darius listened as the Bishop confirmed the three elites’ departure and their intended destination.

”I’ll be there,” Darius replied calmly. ”I won’t fail.”

He had managed to ensnare a Bishop in his plan, making him believe that he ’chose’ to send his elites to hunt down Idriss... and yet, his tone carried not an ounce of smugness.

After the call ended, Bishop Va’ren cracked his neck and brought up Levi’s contact ID.

The unanswered calls remained in their history... months of attempts that the boy dismissed whenever he found something more interesting to occupy his time.

For now, he left the contact open without calling.

The hunters still needed to reach their positions... warning Levi too early might allow Idriss to leave before the danger became serious enough to force him into action.

”If you’re smart enough to see the trap and ruthless enough to abandon him... I’ll be disappointed, boy, but I’ll have to admire you.”

Bishop Va’ren smiled as he gazed at Levi’s contact ID.

”Now... what’s it going to be?”