Chapter 42 — Coordinates
Tancred waited nine days before going.
Not because he forgot.
For nine days the coordinates stayed in his head like something carved there. He could recall them perfectly, even in the middle of a fight.
But trust wasn’t something he gave easily anymore.
So he kept moving.
Disaster zones.
Gate outbreaks.
Criminal territories where law had collapsed.
Wherever something needed breaking.
He fought.
He bled.
He survived.
And in the quiet moments between battles, he found himself thinking about the man who hadn’t flinched.
On the tenth morning, he changed direction.
The journey took two days.
Partly on foot.
Partly catching rides with supply transports.
Partly jumping across damaged rail lines and broken highways.
The landscape changed the farther he traveled.
First the ruined cities thinned out.
Then came open land.
Construction roads.
Temporary power lines.
Heavy machinery tracks cutting across fields.
Tancred stopped on a ridge overlooking the area.
And frowned.
“…What the hell is this?”
Below him stretched something enormous.
Not a military base.
Not a refugee camp.
And not quite a city yet.
But something between them.
Frameworks of buildings rose from the ground like skeletons. Defensive walls were half-built. Cranes swung slowly over steel beams. Supply convoys moved in organized lines.
Workers flowed through the site with purpose.
Security patrols moved calmly through the perimeter.
Nothing about it looked chaotic.
Everything was deliberate.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Planned.
Tancred’s slow smile spread across his face.
“…He wasn’t lying.”
He walked down openly.
No attempt to hide.
Within seconds, security noticed him.
Weapons came up, cautious but controlled.
“I’m here to see Xior,” Tancred said.
The guards exchanged glances.
Recognition flickered across one of their faces.
“Wait here.”
Two minutes later, Xior arrived.
Same calm expression.
Same measured steps.
As if Tancred showing up had always been expected.
“You came,” Xior said.
“Yeah.”
They looked at each other again.
But this time there was something different.
Not tension.
Familiarity.
Tancred gestured toward the massive construction site.
“You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“You actually think this will work?”
“Yes.”
Tancred shook his head.
“No hesitation at all.”
“Correct.”
They began walking through the site together.
Workers glanced nervously at Tancred as he passed. Some clearly recognized him.
Most just sensed what he was.
“What is this place?” Tancred asked.
“A controlled environment,” Xior replied.
“For who?”
“For people who want stability.”
Tancred watched cranes lifting massive steel beams into place.
Supply trucks arrived exactly when they were needed.
Engineers coordinated through tablets and radios.
Everything moved like a machine.
“You’re building a city,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Why here?”
“I own the land.”
Of course he did.
Tancred stopped walking.
“And monsters?” he asked.
“They appear.”
“And you’ll defend it?”
“Yes.”
“With what army?”
Xior looked at him.
“With efficiency.”
Tancred laughed.
“Arrogant.”
“Accurate.”
They stepped into a half-finished building.
Concrete pillars stretched upward.
Wind moved through the open frame.
Dust floated through beams of sunlight.
“Why did you ask me to come?” Tancred asked.
Xior didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said,
“Because you are already doing what I need.”
“What’s that?”
“Eliminating instability.”
Tancred leaned against one of the pillars.
“And what do I get?”
Xior met his eyes.
“Purpose.”
The word landed harder than Tancred expected.
“I already have purpose,” he said.
“Iria.”
“Yes.”
“And when revenge ends?” Xior asked quietly.
Tancred froze.
He hadn’t really thought about that.
Not past the next fight.
Not past the next enemy.
Xior continued calmly.
“I’m not offering a replacement,” he said.
“I’m offering a continuation.”
Dust drifted through the air between them.
Tancred stared at the construction site through the open walls.
“You really think systems can fix this world?” he asked.
“They can reduce suffering,” Xior replied.
“That’s enough.”
Tancred nodded slowly.
That answer mattered.
“People will try to control you,” Tancred said.
“Yes.”
“You’ll refuse.”
“Yes.”
“They’ll hate you.”
“Yes.”
Tancred smiled.
“…Good.”
Xior handed him a tablet.
Not a contract.
Just data.
Infrastructure plans.
Population projections.
Defense modeling.
Tancred skimmed through it.
Even without understanding every technical detail, he could see the logic.
The scale.
The ambition.
“You’re insane,” he said.
“Yes.”
Another long silence.
Then Tancred asked,
“What exactly do you want from me?”
Xior answered simply.
“Stand with me when it matters.”
Not obedience.
Not ownership.
Just alignment.
Tancred thought about it for a long time.
Finally he nodded.
“…Alright.”
It wasn’t loyalty yet.
But it was the beginning.
They walked back outside.
The sun was setting behind unfinished walls and rising towers.
The skeleton of a future city stretched across the horizon.
“Food?” Xior asked.
Tancred blinked.
“…You’re feeding me?”
“Yes.”
Tancred laughed.
“Alright. Now I know you’re serious.”
They ate in silence.
Workers moved nearby.
Machines hummed.
Steel and concrete slowly turned into something real.
For the first time since Iria died—
Tancred felt something unfamiliar.
Not peace.
Not happiness.
Direction.
And direction was enough.
