After finishing his meal, Soren approached Noelle
She was standing against the wall beside him, her green eyes observing the cafeteria with that same serene calm she brought to everything. She didn't react to his approach, simply turned her head slightly to acknowledge his presence
"I need to understand how this place works," Soren said quietly, his voice low enough that only she could hear. "The structure of the gangs, how often people fight, who actually has power here. Everything we need to survive. Can you ask around for me? See what people are willing to tell you?"
Noelle was quiet for a moment. Her expression shifted, showing something other than serene acceptance. A flicker of concern crossed her beautiful features
"Why do you need this information?" she asked, her voice carrying genuine curiosity rather than blind obedience. "If you are truly on a pilgrimage from His Holiness, shouldn't these earthly matters not concern you?"
Soren felt a slight irritation at the question, but he kept his tone neutral. "Because earthly matters are what keep us alive. Right now, I don't know this place. That makes us vulnerable. Information is survival"
Noelle considered this for a long moment, her green eyes studying his scarred face as if trying to read something deeper there. She didn't seem entirely satisfied with his answer, but she nodded slowly
"I will gather what information I can," she said, her tone suggesting she had more questions but was choosing not to press them for now. "But I do not understand why you do not simply ask these people yourself. You are rank 2. They fear you. Surely they would answer your questions"
"Because I need to hear the truth," Soren said. "Not the version they think I want to hear. You go first. See what they tell you. Then I'll verify it"
Noelle nodded again, though her expression suggested she understood there was more to his reasoning than he was saying. She moved away into the cafeteria, her white and gold armour standing out among the dark prison clothing
Soren watched her as she began asking prisoners questions
She approached people carefully, respectfully. Her beautiful face and serene demeanour seemed to put prisoners at ease in a way that Soren's threatening presence never could. She spoke with them for several minutes each, listening more than talking. Her lips moved in what might have been prayer between conversations, as if she was asking for guidance from her goddess about what to ask next
After what felt like a long time, she returned to him
"I have gathered information," she said, settling back against the wall beside him. "The prison is controlled by two major factions. The Iron Pact, which is larger and more brutal in their methods, led by a man named Garrick and the Chainhands, which is smaller but more organized, led by a man named Tovin. They seem to maintain a balance with each other rather than fighting openly"
Soren listened carefully to her tone, her phrasing, the specific details she included
It doesn't seem like she's keeping anything from me. I don't know what exactly makes her put so much trust in me, but for now I'll use it. She's pretty useful
"Be careful when you ask around," Soren said quietly. "Some people might not appreciate questions from someone they don't know. I'm going to gather some information on my own. See what I can verify"
Noelle nodded, understanding that he needed to assess the situation independently
Soren moved away from her and began walking through the cafeteria
As he moved, he took note of how people reacted to his presence. Prisoners seemed to sense him coming and deliberately got out of his line of sight. They turned away. Focused on their food or their conversations or anything except the scarred fighter moving through their space. No one wanted to interact with him. No one wanted to be noticed
He identified a prisoner standing alone near one of the sitting areas. A man in his forties, clearly nervous, the kind who would be easy to intimidate. The man saw Soren approaching and immediately tensed, his entire body going rigid
"Hey, you," Soren said, his voice carrying a casual edge that belied the threatening nature of the approach. "How long have you been in this prison?"
The man's eyes widened slightly
"F-five years," he stammered. "I've been here five years"
"That's a decent amount of time then," Soren said, moving closer. "You should know how things work around here. Tell me about the structure of this place. Who runs things?"
"There's two main factions," the man said quickly, the words tumbling out in his nervousness. His thin frame seemed to shrink further under Soren's gaze. "The Iron Pact and the Chainhands. They control most of the social power here"
"Tell me more about them," Soren said. "How many people are in each?"
"The Iron Pact is bigger. Maybe seventy members. They're led by Garrick, the guy with the metal jaw. They use force and intimidation to maintain control. Take tribute from anyone who doesn't belong to a faction." The man's voice was shaking slightly as he spoke. "The Chainhands are smaller. Maybe fifteen members. They're led by Tovin, the one with the mechanical eye. They control the blacksmithing area and they're more organized than the Iron Pact"
Soren noted this matched what Noelle had told him. Good information so far
"What about rank 2s?" Soren asked. "How many are there?"
The man hesitated for just a moment, his twitchy movements becoming more pronounced
"Excluding you and the woman you came with, there's only two others," he said. "Just two"
"Who?" Soren asked, his tone becoming more threatening
"They're the leaders," the man said quickly. "Garrick and Tovin. The faction leaders are the only other rank 2s in this entire prison. That's why everyone's so afraid of you"
Soren processed this. So Garrick and Tovin were both rank 2. That meant they had real power, not just social power but magical power as well
"Tell me about the fight scheduling then," Soren said. "How often do people fight? What determines it?"
The man swallowed hard, his sharp teeth showing for a moment as his lips pulled back
"It depends on how well-known you are," he said. "Lower ranks and unknowns fight constantly because they generate less hype. People get bored of watching the same strong fighters over and over. But the stronger fighters, the ones with reputation, they fight less often. The guards build anticipation around them. Create bigger events"
"So if you're strong, you fight less?" Soren asked, clarifying
"Yeah, but there's a catch," the man said, his twitchy movements intensifying. "When you do fight, the opponents are usually much harder. It's a trade-off. Fight constantly but against weaker people, or fight rarely but against people who might actually kill you. The strong fighters, the ones they want to keep around? They get longer breaks between fights but the stakes are much higher
Soren looked at the man and smiled
To the thin blond prisoner, it was absolutely terrifying. One side of Soren's face drooped from his injuries while the other side of his mouth raised. It wasn't even a smile. It was just contorted flesh moving upwards, twisted into something that resembled human expression but wasn't quite. His one remaining functional eye stared at the man with an intensity that made him press harder against the wall
"Thank you," Soren said softly. "Thank you. You're very useful. I just have one more thing I want to test out"
"What?" the man stuttered, already trying to move back. His body was already against the wall, so instead of retreating, his torso just rose upwards, trying to make himself smaller.
"If magic here is greatly reduced," Soren said, his voice taking on a curious tone, "why is everyone still so afraid of the difference in ranks?"
Before the prisoner could answer, Soren move
He used his rank one blood barrier spell, forming a hardened and sharp layer across his elbow, the blood within himself concentrating around his elbow acting as a catalyst. The magic here was weakened, that much he knew, but as he moved toward the man with practiced speed, the hardened edge of the barrier caught the prisoner's stomach
It wasn't a killing blow. Soren had never tried using this spell like this before. The spell had been created almost unconsciously on the verge of death against his fight with Draven, born from desperation and magic he didn't fully understand. Against a defenceless prisoner, it would normally slash their stomach open
But the magic was weakened
The barrier caught the man's stomach and tore through skin and muscle, but not as deeply as it would have outside the prison. The old prisoner reeled in pain and dropped to his knees, vomiting while gasping for air. Blood dripped from the wound, but it was survivable. Controlled
Soren watched dispassionately as the man suffered
So the magic is weakened by this much. I see
Soren's mind calculated. If he had to put numbers to it, he would estimate around a 70 percent power reduction. His blood barrier normally would have been devastating. Here, it was merely crippling
But this is still enough to impose myself over those of weaker ranks
That was the critical realization. Even with a 70 percent power reduction, the difference between rank 2 magic and lower ranks was still significant enough to make a difference. The gap was still too large to bridge. That was why everyone was afraid. That was why they moved out of his way. That was why they answered his questions without hesitation.
The power reduction affected everyone equally. It didn't matter if you were rank 1 or rank 2. Everyone lost 70 percent of their magical output. Which meant the absolute gap between ranks remained the same. Rank 2 fighters were still impossibly powerful compared to lower ranks
Soren left the bleeding prisoner on the ground and walked away, his mind already processing this new understanding of the prison's magical restrictions and what they meant for his survival