Aetherios System [Slow Build OP MC, Isekai LitRPG/Cultivation] Chapter 142: Book 2: Chapter 56: Revelation

Read chapter 142 of Aetherios System [Slow Build OP MC, Isekai LitRPG/Cultivation] by TTReynolds on NovelPedia.

Book 2: Chapter 56: Revelation Book 2: Chapter 56: Revelation The gates of Terraxum rose out of the night like the jaws of some great beast. The city beyond them was not the one they remembered. It was quieter, sharper, every shadow stretched long and accusing beneath the torchlight. The squad entered under the watch of grim-faced guards, the kind who didn’t bother to hide their suspicions. Armor clinked softly as they passed, but no words were exchanged. The streets were nearly empty, save for the occasional flicker of movement as shutters slammed closed or curtains twitched aside. A curfew this strict didn’t need to be announced. You could feel it in the air. Whispers traveled faster than footsteps. Even with the streets deserted, the city spoke in hushed tones that rode the wind: “The envoy was a trap.” “The attack used something… unnatural.” “It wasn’t a spell. It was something else.” The words curled into the squad’s ears like the buzz of gnats, impossible to ignore. Garret glanced around nervously, muttering, “Friendly welcome, huh?” Alex stayed close to the rear, hands shoved deep into his pockets, eyes darting between dark alleys and glowing windows. A heavily cloaked figure suddenly appeared beside him, as quiet as the rumors themselves. He started to enter a combat stance, but stopped himself once he realized the person wasn’t attacking them. Her cloak was drawn tight, her face hidden in the shadows of the hood. When she spoke, it was in a voice low enough that only he could hear. “I’ve been listening,” she said. “The Arcanist networks are on fire with talk of what happened at the envoy. They say the explosion wasn’t magical at all, at least, not the kind anyone knows. They’re whispering about power that eats spells, power that doesn’t belong to this world. And worse–” Her head flicked to the side, scanning for eavesdroppers. “–they say the Prince was at the center of it. That he… became something.” His mouth was dry, his stomach sinking with every word she spoke. He didn’t know who this was, he didn’t recognize her energy when he peered at her with aether sight. He damn sure didn’t know if he could trust anything she was saying. Whatever truth hid behind those rumors, it was enough to twist an entire city into fear. He looked back, and the woman had vanished once more. All he saw behind himself was Holly and Eric walking slowly, covering his flank. He faced forward again, pushing the thoughts aside for now. Right now, his team needed him sharp, his head on straight. Ahead of them all, Alex kept walking, his shoulders tense but his stride unwavering. The others followed, silent. The city whispered louder as they moved deeper in, and the whispers all said the same thing in different ways: Terraxum was not the same place they had left. The suite Terraxum they provided the worldstriders was just the same as they had left it. Gold filigree lined the walls, the floor polished stone that gleamed in the lamplight, even Tom-Tom greeted them as they entered. But the mood was gloom and doom, the squad sat scattered across the common area like shadows, their gear piled in corners, their voices hushed. The city’s whispers had followed them up the stairs, and now they all put out feelers to gather information on what had happened. Those political galas and tea-time garden events paying off for once. Cole shared what he’d heard from his servant contact, Allie repeated a warning from a sympathetic healer in the Church. Devon, pale and tight-lipped, explained how the merchant guilds were scrambling. Every piece of information was worse than the last, and none of it fit until Alex laid it out all at once. He sat at the suite’s central table, images projected over every inch of surface showing rumor, intel, speculation of their own. In one hand, he held the stolen aether-slab they had gotten in the Leyline-forge deep under the capital. The rune-light from the object spilled up over his face, sharp and cold. Obby’s illusion body hovere