Rebirth of the Disgraced Noble-Chapter 84: Meeting Horen for Damage Control

On their way to Grey-Rock, Aden took calm, steady steps, as if nothing in the world could bother him. The neutral face he carried reinforced this notion, and even his Vassals were almost convinced.

The keyword being, ’almost.’

No matter how hard Aden tried to hide it, the Sync he shared with the Vassals naturally transmitted the slightly erratic emotions that weaved through his being.

Lorelei and Zero trailed behind him. Neither of them cast a shadow on the ground.

Conflicted expressions rested on their faces as they watched his back, which stood ramrod straight and showed no sign of weakness, yet carried an unfathomable pressure that did not stem from power.

The rhythmic crunch of sand and dried soil would have been the only thing breaking the silence that quietly hung in the air, but even that wasn’t allowed to exist.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Lorelei spoke.

"It would be best if we increased our speed if we are to reach Grey-Rock before dawn."

Aden’s footsteps halted for a moment, and Zero and Lorelei did the same. But Aden didn’t turn back to answer her suggestion. Instead, he continued walking as if nothing had happened.

The duo exchanged glances—one unconcerned and the other conflicted—but before Lorelei could repeat herself, Aden’s voice sounded and broke the tension that had begun to bloom.

"Hurrying won’t change a predetermined outcome."

A small frown tugged at Lorelei’s lips, but no words followed. The journey continued at a calm, steady pace. Only the wind’s distant howls and the muted glow of the sun behind the clouds accompanied them.

A few hours passed before Aden’s footsteps suddenly halted. A small wave of dust stirred behind them as they stopped, but the scent bore no resemblance to debris.

Aden’s eyes looked blankly ahead. Tall structures that lacked the expected opulence stood before him, streams of colored steam extending into the distance, while the low booms and piercing scents of brewing potions filled the air.

His eyes flashed with recognition at the familiar scene before him. Even if he didn’t remember anything else, the scent of pharmaceuticals was permanently registered in his still sensitive nose.

His gaze dropped to the ground far below the small cliff before he silently landed. The impact stirred his silver hair, though most of it was restrained in a large bun he had tied earlier. Lorelei considered offering help, but he quietly refused.

Zero quietly picked up a cracked bottle on the half-concrete, half-sandy ground and studied it for a split second before turning to his Master.

Noticing his questioning gaze, Aden simply turned and walked to the left. The Vassals fell in behind him without a word. After a while, he finally spoke.

"I have something to handle here. The two of you can do as you please."

He waved a dismissive hand and headed toward a small building with cracked walls, its neglected surroundings hinting it hadn’t seen better days in years.

Zero bowed and remained rooted in his position, but it was clear he was extremely reluctant to stay away from his Master.

Lorelei, however, did not share Zero’s restraint.

"We have no other place to be!" she shouted after him.

Aden did not stop walking, but his head turned just enough for his now obsidian eyes that promised an abyssal entanglement—to reflect in her irises.

"That wasn’t a suggestion."

Those words forced her to take two steps backward with an incredulous expression plastered on her face, but she immediately regained her bearings and performed a deep bow.

"I apologize for my foolishness," she spoke with deep servile respect.

Aden had already entered the building, but the apology didn’t remain in the flowing winds.

The heavy wooden door of the workshop groaned on its rusted hinges—a sound that seemed to protest Aden’s very presence as he stepped inside. The air was thick with the suffocating, nostalgic cocktail of sulfur, dried nightshade, and the sharp, acidic bite of fermented drake-gall.

This was the Green Glass District, the industrial lung of Grey-Rock that breathed out the potions and poisons that kept the city’s economy beating. And this specific building, with its peeling paint and the constant low rattle of bubbling glass, belonged to Horen.

Inside, the workshop was a chaotic maze of alembics, charred scrolls, and shelves overflowing with cracked vials.

"I told you to leave the crate at the back, you incompetent mule!" a gravelly, sleep-deprived voice barked from behind a stack of massive iron cauldrons.

Horen emerged, his face smudged with soot and his white beard stained a faint toxic green. He didn’t look up at first, his eyes fixed on a delicate glass dropper he was using to titrate a glowing violet liquid.

"If you’ve forgotten the mandrake root again, I’ll personally use your marrow for the next batch of—"

The dropper stopped.

The violet liquid dripped onto the table, hissing as it ate through the wood, but Horen didn’t notice.

He had finally looked up.

He stared at the young man standing in the doorway. Aden’s clothes were tattered and stained with the dark residue of the cave, but it was his presence that stopped Horen mid-breath.

They had only met once, but that was more than enough for Horen to imprint his features in his mind—and it wasn’t exactly difficult considering how unique they were.

"Foolish warrior?" he called out wryly as he wiped his hands on a filthy apron and took wobbly steps behind his desk.

Aden’s neutral mask nearly broke at the Alchemist’s comment, but the man’s nonchalance unsettled him.

"That’s me... I guess," Aden finally responded as he pulled a seat. A cloud of debris surrounded him as he sat, but it dispersed with a flick of his finger.

Horen pulled the glasses he wore downward as he inspected Aden.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was fundamentally different from the last time they met.

Alchemists were trained to deduce outcomes with as little information as possible, so their Resonance affinities were usually mind-based. But only a handful of Alchemists ever managed to awaken it.

Horen wasn’t part of the lucky few.

But there was a reason he was a Master Alchemist despite that. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

"Are you behind everything that’s been happening these past few months?"