Heir of the Fog

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A Summons from the Chainrunners

Many weeks passed, and there came a time when I felt no pressing need to return to the safety of the ward, even when I slept so close to it. Yet in those moments, I kept recalling my family who lived inside the ward.

After more than a full month, around the time winter had just ended, I finally packed another twenty kilograms of diremaw meat into my backpack, along with my daggers and a few throwing spears. Then I set out for the entrance. This time, however, I did not burn any weed before leaving. Kara had advised me to do so, but I ignored her warning.

I could not fully explain why I did that. It felt irrational to let the beasts catch my scent, even if I was only walking a short distance. Yet deep within me, there was a desire for them to sense me. Fortunately, the short trek went unnoticed by any creatures. Soon, I arrived at the guard post.

This time, only Kael, Mareth, and Roran were present. They were on edge from seeing something stir in the fog. I, on the other hand, could see them from quite far off by now, my eyesight no longer hindered by the fog as it once was. In fact, I could have spotted the guard post from my home if I climbed to the roof.

When I drew nearer, I caught Mareth raising her bow at me again, so I called out, "Hey, it's me."

Hearing my voice, she lowered her bow, and the others relaxed their grips on their weapons.

"Kid, is that you?" Roran asked.

"Yes," I said, advancing slowly so they could get a proper look at me. "May I come in?"

They exchanged glances. Roran took a moment to confirm who I was, eyeing my new belt with the dagger attached and the throwing spears strapped to my back under the backpack. A small bone-made compartment held the spears so I could grab them easily while running. Eventually, Mareth nodded.

"Yes, go ahead," she said, so I stepped outside the fog.

"How are you even doing this?" Roran asked, the awe plain in his voice. "You spent over a month in the fog this time."

I started unpacking my gear so it could be inspected and documented. "I'm good at running," I said simply.

"Running? You spent a whole month running out there?" he pressed.

"Yes, I'm very good at running," I repeated.

"It's an artifact, isn't it?" Kael cut in, sounding sure of himself.

"What?" I paused, considering his question. It made sense they would suspect an artifact at play, something that might allow me to hide in the fog. It was not entirely untrue. Without Kara, I would still have been mauled by beasts. "Yes, I found a very powerful artifact in the fog," I told them, deciding it was fair to say so.

"I told you," Kael remarked, glancing smugly at the others.

"You're an artifact holder now, then?" Roran asked. "That's good news. Want to register this new artifact?"

In Araksiun, artifacts come in many forms. However, not all grant the bearer official "Artifact Holder" status. Only those powerful enough to impact the entire district, like food-production relics or weaponry that can fend off beasts, such as the bow wielded by the Captain of the Chainrunners qualify. Becoming an Artifact Holder carries numerous benefits, Such as improved allowances, and the allowance itself goes far beyond the combined salary and allowance of most active workers. The pay on top of it while on duty is also great.

I had never planned on that route. However, officially registering would mean becoming a real member of the district, but how could I prove this artifact? It was literally in my mind, thanks to Kara.

"I can't," I said finally.

"Why not?" Roran frowned. "Nobody's going to take it from you. Don't worry."

"That's not the problem. It's just... it's a consumable artifact. I don't actually have it with me anymore, nor any way to show it."

"A consumable artifact?" He looked skeptical. "And it lets you walk in the fog without being killed?"

"Yes. Well... not exactly. It helps me hide," I clarified.

Roran seemed thoughtful. "Hiding, huh. Consumable artifacts can be powerful, but I've never heard of one strong enough to earn the Artifact Holder title. And if I can't analyze it, I can't report the artifact. Sorry, kid."

My tiny flicker of hope for that title vanished right away, though I had expected as much. "No worries," I muttered, handing over my gear.

"Crude quality weapons, but practical," Kael observed, looking over each item while Roran took notes. "What metal are these blades made of? The handles look strange, and the spears are... white? And of course, you're bringing more magical-beast meat."

"They're not metal," I corrected. "I made them from beast parts. Bones for the handles, claws for the spear points, and the small daggers are shaped from canine teeth."

They exchanged uneasy looks, and Roran hesitated, pencil hovering in his hand. "You made your weapons out of beast parts?"

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"Good ones, too," Kael added, impressed. He tapped one spear, noting its balance. "I see why they're so small. You made them to fit your size. Strange, but they're durable and sharp. Are you some sort of crafting apprentice?"

"Not yet," I said. "I'm still underage, but I'm going to train as a blacksmith apprentice soon."

"Underage?" Kael echoed. "I kind of forgot how young you are. Not even twelve yet?"

"No, I'm actually nine."

Roran picked up one of the daggers, carefully turning it over. "So this blade is a beast's canine tooth?" He grimaced at the idea. "The fog and its endless horrors... but these are effective weapons. Probably better than what we have here."

I recalled Kara's explanation: parts of creatures infused with mana can surpass the local metals that District 98 commonly uses, especially if the metals are not themselves mana-infused. Extraction of metal in the districts is complicated, after all.

Historically, Araksiun was founded where mineral veins existed, and in ancient times, they built massive facilities over the veins to extract resources automatically. They relied on a blend of engineering and magic. Thanks to that, we still have access to common metals, but forging and distribution remain costly, especially for those districts lacking a facility. And even District 98, which does have one, struggles with the high cost of batteries and specialized equipment for both creating and extracting those minerals.

My mind wandered through these thoughts from Elina's lessons, and I spaced out for a moment. When I looked back, Mareth was holding out my gear for me to reclaim, and I realized I had been standing still, lost in reflection.

"Sorry about that," I mumbled, taking back my backpack, belt, and weapons.

"It's fine," she said. "Try to stay inside the ward a while this time. Your family's been really worried. I live in a residential building near them, and every morning I see Meris looking around for you."

Her words struck me hard, so I decided to hurry to the district's residential area. At least, that was my plan.

"Omen, the Captain of the Chainrunners requests your presence!" announced another city guard who ran up from the street, then dashed off again without further explanation.

I stopped in my tracks, my heart tightening with sudden anxiety. Was she going to punish me for some reason? Did I break a rule by disappearing in the fog? If they forced me onto a run, I would be out there with others, attracting the monsters' attention. Chainrunner life is brutal, even for veterans. Why would she want me?

Then it hit me: District 95. How could I have forgotten?

At one time, I was preparing in earnest to help District 95, but within a few days in the fog, it had completely slipped my mind. I felt a surge of guilt. Had it already been destroyed? It had been more than twenty-nine days. I could not be sure if they survived.

"Kara, why did I forget about District 95? Is this your doing?" I asked quietly.

[Kara]

[Negative. Based on the user's behavior over the past month, I hypothesize that you undergo not just physical but also psychological adaptations the body deems necessary for survival in this environment. Such adaptations might, in some cases, affect your memory, but this is not influenced by the system.]

"Oh, that's just perfect. So not only do I have to worry about you messing with my mind, but also something else inside me?" I paused, noticing she had not denied having any mental influence. "You didn't actually say you can't affect my mind. Now you're telling me there's some sort of third party in my head?"

[Kara]

[Negative. There is no third party. The choice to remain in the fog, optimizing your body toward a goal, is the user's own decision. The 'third party' is effectively your own instincts.]

"You're saying I decided to forget?"

[Kara]

[Not exactly, but effectively yes.]

A pang of regret twisted inside me. How could I have chosen not to help them? Perhaps the thought of traveling so far to warn District 95 was too daunting, especially since I barely knew how to explore beyond our ward's boundary. Still, what if the Chainrunners' captain never prepared a run to warn them?

As I mulled over these questions, I saw the guard who had delivered the message vanishing into the bustle of the district. Pulling myself together, I sprinted after him, heading to meet the Captain of the Chainrunners and hoping I was not too late for anything.

As we walked through the district, I felt slightly uneasy carrying so many weapons. My armaments, along with my bone-built spears, drew a lot of stares. Yet the guard who summoned me kept a brisk pace, and within a few minutes, we arrived at the Chainrunners' headquarters.

It was a sprawling building, taller than most around it, with five or maybe more floors rising against the district's skyline. Just as in other parts of the city, the immediate security here was provided by city guards rather than Chainrunners themselves. The air felt a bit tense, as if heavy with the echoes of countless battles fought in the fog.

Carved faces lined the facade—grim visages of legendary Chainrunner leaders, Artifact Holders, or perhaps heroes from long-forgotten ages. Each had a small plaque beneath it, etched with feats and honors. Passing these stone tributes gave me a shiver, reminding me of how many had likely perished beyond the ward.

On the way in, I caught snippets of the guard's mutterings. He grumbled about having been ordered to stay at the guard post awaiting my return, left waiting for weeks after I vanished into the fog. By now, it seemed as though everyone else had forgotten him there, and his resentment was plain. He did not bother to be quiet as he pushed open the large doors leading inside.

The first floor opened into a wide hall with rows of benches, most of them empty at the moment, where more city guards milled about. Near one corner stood a single Chainrunner official, acting like a receptionist or secretary. The guard accompanying me hurried over to report my arrival, speaking in a hushed tone. As he did, I took in the space around me.

This facility was not just an administrative building. It served as living quarters for many Chainrunners, too. Since these people venture out beyond the fog and return in uncertain states, sometimes gravely wounded, sometimes plagued by nightmares, the district deems it essential to maintain high security here.

That explained the tight guard presence. A handful of other civilians waited on a few of the benches, likely hoping to speak with the Captain or arrange a run. Some looked nervous, casting wary glances at the walls and the guards.

And this was the domain of Lirien Blackthorn—Captain of the Chainrunners, Artifact Holder of the Dawnbreak Bow, and widely rumored to be the strongest champion in District 98, if not among all the neighboring districts. She was the one who had summoned me.

My mind churned with possibilities. Could it be just a casual chat? Unlikely.

I remembered Tarin Blackthorn and the scars he bore from training under his mother, recalling the stories of her fierce discipline and how she had survived over a decade of deadly runs. Even seasoned Chainrunners rarely lasted so long.

At least I presumed I might have a bit of time before meeting her. Several people sat in the waiting area, likely hoping for an audience. Yet an attendant stepped forward almost immediately, calling out, "Omen, the Captain will see you now. Please follow me."

So much for taking a moment to breathe.