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The face staring back at him in the mirror wasn’t one Barrett recognized. That was good, of course, because that was the whole point of his current experiment. He slowly relaxed his control, guiding his face back to normal. It wasn’t a perfect solution by any means, but it was nice to know he could do it. Unfortunately, keeping his face a particular way took a lot of stamina. Holding bones out of their spot was difficult. If he wanted to use less stamina, he supposed he could actually just reshape the structure of his face… but he liked his face. It was his, and it reminded him of his father.
As for why he would want to disguise his face at all… if he was planning to travel, he didn’t necessarily want to be recognized. He’d made a number of enemies after all, and he would prefer not to be recognized by most of them. There were still Silver Blades about, and while he wasn’t particularly worried about fighting most of them… if they got to properly use their training as an assassin, he wouldn’t get the chance to fight them. There were still at least some of them outside of Stredo. There was also now a moderate chance of him being recognized by people who didn’t have a grudge with him personally. The Immortal Berserker Sect had enemies around, and being the winner of the fourth tier tournament put him in enough of a spotlight to potentially be noticed. Barrett didn’t anticipate any trouble in or around Stredo, but he had enemies around the Metal Sea, anywhere to the south in Ruclua, and potentially other places.
Barrett wasn’t worried about others pretending to be him, however. While he could change his face with Pure Body Tempering, it wasn’t impossible to do otherwise. A skilled doctor could reconstruct the bones in someone’s face and the right medicine could heal any suspicious scars. The Immortal Berserker Sect had more ways of determining someone’s identity than just recognizing their berserk energy or their face- they had to, for the sake of auxiliary members.
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The first place Barrett decided to visit was Ogloni. Barrett wanted to be better able to defend himself against curses and the like, and while he could do something with his current skills and Pure Body Tempering, more knowledge was better. There wasn’t just the Grasping Hand to worry about. Barrett wasn’t sure if more Silver Blades had learned curse magic, but there was definitely one group of enemies Barrett wasn’t confident against. The Convocation of Souls had killed a grandmistress of the Immortal Berserker Sect, Grandmistress Aurora. Master Hykel hadn’t said much about it when he asked, even though she had taught him. However, Barrett could sense the lingering bitterness and resentment towards them. Master Hykel had done so many things for Barrett, but Barrett hadn’t done anything to pay him back. Certainly, he was an excellent student and doing well in the Sect, but he hadn’t done anything for Master Hykel personally. He knew he didn’t have to… but he also knew that just because you didn’t have to do something for your friends didn’t mean you shouldn’t.
Not that Barrett thought he could take on an organization that killed a seventh tier cultivator. That was an insane idea at the moment. However, he could be part of a group that sought revenge on them, if the opportunity arose. Maybe it would be better for him to be fifth tier first, but he also needed to prepare himself to better defend against them. The actual abilities of the Convocation of Souls were… not publicly known. However, it wasn’t hard to know it had something to do with souls- potentially stealing them from other cultivators and using them in combat, if the rumors were correct. Barrett wasn’t sure how to fight soul binders of any sort, but it was at least tangentially related to curses that affected the soul… and that was a good reason to seek out Crenthor. Barrett had no way to guarantee that Crenthor would still be in the same shop, or even in Ogloni… but he had nowhere else to start. Besides, it didn’t take too long to get there.
Barrett still found Ogloni itself unpleasant. It was even worse now, in fact. His sense of smell had improved, and that meant he smelled either preservation formula or rotting bodies more clearly. From what Barrett could tell, the more proficient necromancers didn’t have rotting zombies- it’s not much good to have tools fall apart, after all. Even so, Barrett didn’t find the thought of well cared for zombies any more appealing. It wasn’t as if the streets were entirely littered with zombies… but even seeing and smelling a few of them was something that wouldn’t happen in Stredo.
As Barrett was getting close to where Crenthor’s shop was, he heard something. Well, he heard many things. However, his brain picked up a voice he recognized and thus flagged the information as important. He didn’t recognize any words, but he got the tone of voice. Things didn’t seem to be entirely okay… and if they were, he would be walking a handful of blocks out of his way to meet an acquaintance. That handful of blocks brought Barrett out of the merchant district that Crenthor’s shop was, or had been. His feet took him to the slums, where ironically there were very few traces of zombies since nobody could afford to purchase or make or care for them- and anyone with real skills as a necromancer could probably do better. That didn’t mean it smelled better, just different. The sewage systems, such as they were, didn’t seem quite as well kept in the slums.
He could slowly pick up the conversation happening as he got closer. “…there are laws around here, you know.” That was the voice he recognized. He couldn’t say he was close with Caprica, but he’d known her for a few days at least.
Another voice laughed, “And what good will they do you? I don’t see how anyone could come after us when there’s no body or soul to be found.”
Barrett noticed nobody else was out on the streets, and in fact from what he could tell they were hiding out in their homes trying to not hear what was going on. He didn’t know if they would be left to live afterwards, but he supposed it didn’t matter because things weren’t going to go the way of the second voice.