Outworld Liberators-Chapter 180: A Man Made to Choose Which Hell to Tread

For cultivators, distance was no problem, so long as no array restrictions were put in place.

Raiders from different underground organizations came swift, like gale.

A third of the dud estates were hit first. Crippled men, women, and youths, numbering by the thousands.

The simple ones. Names that would make small waves.

The sort of missing that could be filed under misfortune and forgotten by supper.

Those men were not chosen at random. The traitorous dogs did not need to hunt hard.

The information had been archived on the other side for a long time, not just from the white papers.

They were already copied from long ledgers and watchlists, passed along by hands that pretended they were only doing their jobs.

Names, routes, habits. Where a man slept. Who he spoke to. What he feared.

Too bad they were too late.

Eldric and Tiberius had borrowed their identities early. They made the request by letter. The people agreed readily, replacing their each one with Radeon Terraces personnel.

Tiberius listened to all of it with a calm that did not fit the mess.

When Eldric finished, Tiberius smiled as if the raid had been expected, as if it had served him.

Eldric spun the story for Tiberius in the quiet way he did, turning a bruise into a badge.

He made it sound like control, like intention, like the whole ugly spill had been poured where he wanted it.

Tiberius understood what Eldric was doing and played his part anyway.

He asked, not as a challenge, like a student trying to learn.

Eldric made Tiberius look humble. He made him look like a man willing to admit a mistake and pay it back.

It gave Tiberius enough face that the Hemal Tithe Cult would not bare its teeth.

They would only slap his wrist and call him poor at playing politics.

It was beyond a win, a miracle even, for Tiberius, who had been unaware only a few hours ago.

But nothing came for free. A contract scroll lay on the table.

The ink smelled sharp. Eldric’s hand rested beside it, relaxed, as if he were offering tea instead of shackles.

Three favors. That was the price Eldric named, spoken plain.

Help Radeon Terraces three times when called upon, no excuses, no delay.

In addition, Tiberius would surrender jurisdictions over the rebellious underground marketplaces, the ones that made money in the dark.

Tiberius read the deeper lines.

If he broke the promise in any way, he and his family would be enslaved. Not mindless.

Enough sense left to know they were owned. Their loyalty branded to Radeon alone.

Eldric let Tiberius think it was the Terraces, replying with a nod when he asked.

There was a softer clause too. Any unforeseen incident could be fixed within a week.

A grace period, Eldric called it.

Eldric also gave himself a restriction. He could not hide problems from Tiberius.

It made everything on paper look fair, like they stood on equal footing.

Tiberius did not mind at all. At his level it was not a big deal.

A small sincerity. Do not get in the way of the Radeon Terraces.

Tiberius signed. He told himself it was survival. He told himself it was temporary.

What he feared was seclusion for hundreds of years. Not seeing his family. Uncertain of their safety. He might not even survive it.

He knew the Supreme Elder of the cult. The old monster had power like what Eldric could show, but he would not give Tiberius face.

He would clap him in shackles. And if the old ancestor was in a bad mood, he would extract his cultivation and recycle his soul into a then tell him to recultivate.

Tiberius also surrendered to Eldric for a simple reason. There was evidence he could not refute. Hemal Tithe was already sniffing around.

Jekyll had started asking why the income from Contractcrown of Plunder Alp had not increased for decades. Different faces, but the same intent.

He called it curiosity. He called it routine interest. The kind of question that sounded harmless, but it was what made Tiberius shiver.

The questions started soft. Cultists from Hemal Tithe, disguised in ordinary robes, lounged like they owned the air, cups in hand, smiles in place.

They asked after the other peaks the way neighbors asked after crops, casual, sweet, with hunger tucked behind the tongue.

"How are the other peaks doing?" one said.

"How much was the tribute this year?"

The numbers followed like perfume. A hundred percent more. Three hundred more. Seven hundred.

It was not chump change. It was not even wealth the way mortals understood wealth.

It was millions of high grade spirit stones, enough to push a mortal through every gate until he stood among gods.

That was why they asked questions now, despite their grip on Central Emperia’s power.

Power always wanted proof it was still growing. Power always feared it had started to shrink.

Radeon, who was also Eldric, would not want another man in Tiberius’s place.

Not because he felt any pleasantness toward Tiberius.

Tiberius simply fit his needs. A replacement would come with unknown loyalties, unknown appetites, and the need to prove himself.

Proving always made noise. Noise drew eyes. Eyes drew sects. In the end, too many people would grow curious at the Terraces.

Radeon did not want curiosity that edged into investigation. He only wanted the kind of curiosity a neighbor had when they asked what was cooking on your smoking grill.

What’s more, he had fought old monsters. Compared to a heaven child, those monsters felt like talentless infants beside a peerless young adult. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Extremely complicated to kill. Hundreds of backups to keep breathing. Thousands of re-encounters.

Radeon could survive that kind of opponent. He had before. Because he was the same.

The problem was never fear. The problem was time.

He had felt the Samsara Realm when he opened his Seersight, the way he felt a rotten beam under a boot.

The realm was a carcass pretending it was a house. It stood because habit held it up, not because it was sound.

He did not know how long he had before it imploded on its own.

A year. A month. A week. Or one bad ripple from the void and the whole thing would fold like wet paper.

That uncertainty made him careful in a way courage never could.