Chapter 160: The Sentenced
He set Fian to managing the firewood inside the dimensional pocket while calling for Rea to test the pill.
"Well?" Gara asked, watching the little furball.
Rea scrunched his face into a sour expression. That alone told Gara the result.
"Good job!" Gara chuckled, rubbing his cheek against Rea’s before stepping back into the pocket.
Inside, Fian had already finished loading the wood into a stove and lit the fire. Gara decided he would simply call it the stove.
He and Fian stepped inside the house, immediately noticing the sharp difference in temperature.
Gara wasn’t exactly an expert in construction, so he could only hope the house had its own system built in. Thankfully, it did.
While waiting for the vena pill to dry, Gara took Fian on a little tour, sharing his ideas about how he wanted to use the place. Fian only nodded along. Whether he truly understood or was just pretending, it didn’t matter.
Before long, the vena pill was ready.
Gara left the dimensional pocket and had Rea test it. To his relief, it worked.
Without wasting time, Gara called Hilda. "Start building a Zegan Ant farm and begin mass-producing vena pills at once."
"Yes, Master."
"Oh, and if the Alchemy Association shows up asking who created the pill, tell them I’m the maker. But the recipe is already owned by the Alrova Merchant House," Gara reminded her, recalling Kian’s advice.
"As Alrova’s representative, don’t accept if they offer a partnership. Pass this along to the Yugo Merchant House too.
And if they press about who discovered the recipes for other herbal products, avoid answering if you can. Only tell the truth if you absolutely have no choice. Stall them for as long as possible."
"Understood, Master."
Gara himself would confirm his cooperation with the Alrova Merchant House if the Association questioned him directly.
And if that stirred trouble for Alrova, he would have no choice but to call on Tristan’s influence. As long as they were within Raksa County, no one could oppose Tristan.
...
Mohan held out a badge marked with the Raksa County crest to the prison guard. Only people of high status were permitted to carry such a badge.
The guard unlocked the gate and allowed Mohan inside.
Loka had been transferred from the temporary cell to Falopo Town’s prison. His trial had lasted only a few days—fast, almost unnaturally so—thanks to the pressure Tristan had put on the mayor’s office.
Inside one of the cells, Loka sat curled up, head buried in his arms, unaware of Mohan’s arrival.
"Loka," Mohan called softly.
The muscular man lifted his head. He looked frail, worn down. So different from the energetic figure he used to be.
Dragging his feet, he approached the bars. "So I really... did wrong?"
Mohan let out a heavy breath. "Loka, open your eyes!"
Loka collapsed, clutching his head. He knew it already. In these past few days, the truth had finally sunk in. Narin wasn’t as kind as he had believed.
She had admitted it was only a joke, never expecting Loka to actually act on her words. Anyone could see she and Gara were at odds. How could he have been so foolish to trust her?
It was clear Narin had no intention of letting herself take the full blame.
Earlier, Loka’s rank had dropped, but that was it.
While, Narin was sentenced to serve several years at the borderline. She refused to suffer alone. Especially while her enemy, Gara, was likely laughing in triumph.
And Loka, the fool, had only learned how the world truly worked after being tricked. Tricked so badly it cost him his entire life.
He was sentenced—his rank stripped again, his status as a Liner suspended, and his life condemned to the mines of Raksa County.
The only chance he’d ever see freedom was if war broke out, forcing the county to dispatch every able Liner to the battlefield.
"When you get to the mines, I’ll try to have your assignment moved closer to the county," Mohan said.
Loka didn’t respond. His empty gaze stayed fixed on the floor.
Suddenly, his pupils widened. He looked up at Mohan. "Gara—does Gara hate me that much?"
Mohan scowled. "Is that really what you’re worried about right now? You should be thinking about how to survive!"
"But—"
"Don’t let your mind wander if you want to stay alive!" Mohan snapped. "I’m helping you because I know you weren’t acting out of malice. You were tricked by Narin. Don’t make me regret it!"
Loka fell silent, but from the look in his eyes, Mohan could tell he still didn’t grasp the weight of his situation.
"Listen, Loka. Gara despises you right now. Who wouldn’t hate the man who kidnapped—who nearly killed—his child?" Mohan’s words were cutting.
Loka’s face twisted, guilt flashing in his eyes.
Mohan decided he’d said enough. He turned to leave, but Loka’s voice stopped him.
"The one I kidnapped... might not have been Gara’s child."
Mohan froze. "What are you talking about?" His patience ran thin; he had no tolerance for fools who clung to nonsense.
"The one I took was a druid’s child. But Gara’s kid... shouldn’t he be a devil?" Loka looked up at Mohan, whose brow furrowed, confusion written across his face.
"Maybe... maybe I really was mistaken that day," Loka muttered. "The vice captain already warned me not to bring this up to anyone else."
"Whatever it is, don’t even think about digging deeper, much less confronting Gara again," Mohan said firmly. "Remember, Gara’s backed by someone with real power."
Loka gave a weak nod.
Meanwhile, the very "backing" they spoke of sat in his quarters at the guards’ barracks.
"What did you just say?" Tristan’s voice rumbled, deep and brimming with fury.
Emir, standing stiffly before his captain’s desk, knew the question was rhetorical. But he still repeated the news he had told him.
"The druids caught wind there’s a druid in Bota Village. The rumor came from a prisoner... and that prisoner was Loka."
Bang!
...