Vol. 2 Ch. 11: Aristocrats of the night

Author's Note:

Recurring Characters:
Peter: The Protagonist of this novel.
Mariah: Mother of Peter.

Recap:

“Alright,” Mariah said, and sighed, finally relenting to his demands. She shook her head as she stood up before walking to the carriage to bring the mat and a sleeping roll for herself. She planned to sleep near the campfire, while Peter remained awake to watch.

...End of Author's note...

...

(Sometime later)

Peter looked up, his gaze lingering on the five moons overhead, their cold light reflected in his eyes as he silently took them in. Based on their positions, sunrise was only a few hours away. Just then, multiple images flashed across his mind from his soul bond with Deathknell.

Deathknell was further beyond in the route, circling the camp from a half mile away. While Peter remained close to the camp, it was tasked to constantly scout the area with its shadow sense.

‘The night has been pretty peaceful so far,’ Peter mused, scanning the area from his position. He stood atop a tree branch near camp, about three meters off the ground. He leapt down, landing with a muffled thump as his boots sank into the yielding soil. Brushing the dirt off his clothes, Peter straightened his body with a grin.

An owl hooted from nearby, the sharp call sounding almost like a protest at the disruption. The night held still for a few heartbeats before the soft hum of insects gradually returned. A lone wolf’s howl rolled through the darkness from somewhere far away.

Peter walked steadily toward the camp, careful not to step on the snake on the ground, waiting for its prey. He would have thrown the viper away if it were any closer to the camp, but at this distance, it was okay to leave it in its place. With his mana sense active, Peter’s awareness was expanded to a great degree, touching everything within his vicinity, despite the darkness of the night.

He quickened his pace when he felt something circling in the air around the horses. Stopping near another tree, with a direct line of sight to them, Peter aimed his bow into the air. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the flying target and relied on his Weapons Mastery skill to guide his mana into the bow.

Mana surged outside, exiting from his fingers, travelling along the bowstring, and hardened like crystal to form a translucent, blue arrow. Peter pulled the bowstring, the act not even a struggle with his new strength, a serene expression on his face. The silence stretched as Peter slowly perfected his aim, honing in on the target with his mana sense.

He emptied his mind, breath even, not allowing random thoughts to distract him from his objective. The chirps, thumps and tweets in the background slowly quieted, his eyes remaining closed. His perception blended into his mana sense, heightening his magical sense. Dexterity helped him handle the bow better, improving his aim.

All of this happened at once, in a few moments, and when Peter was sure his aim was true, he let the arrow fly. It flew straight, cutting the air in its path, silent and fast, before piercing the target in the chest. A shrill scream rang out in response, cut short as the creature spiralled down, wings flailing, followed by a wet thud once it hit the ground.

A smile bloomed on Peter’s face. He quickly made his way to the place where the creature fell. It was still alive. Taking his knife out from its sheath at his hips, Peter ended the bat’s misery. He sighed and used Inspect.

[

Inspect…

Species: Shadowgleam Bat

Level: 6

Health: 0/84

Description:

The shadowgleam bat is a small, nocturnal creature commonly found in forested regions and cave systems. Its fur is a dull brown-grey, providing natural camouflage against bark and stone.

With a wingspan measuring approximately twenty-five centimetres, it moves through the night with near-silent flight. Solitary by nature, it roosts alone in narrow crevices and high branches.

The creature possesses highly refined hearing, capable of detecting the faintest disturbances in its environment. Its eyes reflect a subtle red sheen when exposed to moonlight, though this phenomenon is only visible at certain angles.

The shadowgleam bat sustains itself by feeding on the blood of large mammals, including deer, cattle, and the occasional traveller. It punctures the skin with needle-like fangs and consumes only small quantities, rarely alerting the host.

Though biologically unremarkable in most aspects, it is often preferred as a scout for aristocrats of the night, due to most observers dismissing it as an ordinary bat. This unassuming nature makes it an ideal tool for silent observation and covert tracking.

]

Peter’s eyes narrowed by the end, and he scanned the surroundings with increased caution.

‘Often preferred as a scout…’ he mused. With a silent command, he willed Deathknell to shrink the radius of its sweep, focusing its movements closer to their position. ‘It is most likely a wild beast,’ he assessed, extracting the tiny mana core from its corpse. ‘But it's better to be vigilant. I don’t want to be caught unguarded if there’s really a vampire lurking on the route.’

…

Mariah opened her eyes groggily as the sunlight poked at her eyelids. “Ugh… Good morning…” she said, sitting up. She looked around while stretching her arms above her head.

Peter was freeing the horses from their tethers some distance away. He stopped and turned around. “Good morning,” he said with a smile.

“Are we already moving?” she asked when Peter guided two horses to the carriage front. Mariah pushed herself up, the morning chill still clinging to her limbs. She knelt beside her bedding, fingers moving methodically as she rolled the blanket tightly and secured it.

“No,” Peter said, harnessing the horses to the carriage. “There’s still some time remaining,” he added, checking the shafts, making sure that they are snug against the mare’s flanks.

“Alright,” Mariah nodded, then activated the skill.

Dustaway

A faint ripple of mana passed over her body. Dirt, sweat, and grime faded from her skin and clothes in seconds. Internally, a refreshing lightness spread through her core as Dustaway had completed its full cleanse, bowels included. She gave a small, relieved sigh and adjusted her clothes without a word, as if it were just another step in her morning routine.

“You need any help?” She asked, walking closer.

Peter shook his head. “I’ve got this,” he said, then paused. “But if you can cook something for the afternoon, that’d be great.”

“What about now?” Mariah said, clutching her stomach. “I’m starving.”

Peter chuckled, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “There’s some dried meat, nuts, and a bit of cheese in the back,” he said, nodding toward the wagon. “I’m afraid that’s all your stomach’s getting this morning.”

Mariah nodded and headed to the back, leaving Peter alone with the horses. The night had been calm following the encounter with the bat.

‘It’s better not to worry her,’ he mused, petting the horses. He walked to the side and leaned forward to check the water barrels. Only one of them was filled to the brim. ‘The priority is to find a stream,’ he decided, pursing his lips. ‘The barrels in the carriage cannot be given to the horses,’ he thought, ‘They are reserved for the sheep.’

Peter already had a solution as last night’s encounter was enlightening for him. “I will be back in a bit,” he shouted toward the back of the carriage, heading toward the forest.

“Wait!” Mariah yelled back, “Where are you going?” she asked, hands full of dry meat and nuts.

“To get a temporary scout for us,” Peter answered back, waving his hand without turning back. “I won’t be far, and it shouldn’t take long. Enjoy your breakfast in the meantime.”

Peter broke into a jog the moment he stepped into the woods, his eyes slipping shut as his mana sense swept outward in all directions. Shadows stirred behind him, stretching and swirling like bandages caught in a windstorm. They reached for him, clinging to his limbs, crawling up his skin and clothes until he was completely wrapped in darkness.

Moments later, the figure that emerged stood close to two meters tall. A deep hood hid his face, and a cloak of shadow covered him from head to toe, its edges drifting and shifting like smoke caught in still air. He surged forward in great sweeping strides, covering ground with a grace that masked the raw power behind each step. Vegetation rushed past in a green blur as he weaved through the forest, slipping between trunks with fluid movements. His vision was fractured into pieces, divided among countless shadows around his vicinity as far as Shadow Sense.

“Found one,” he said, his voice deep and unsettling. His fingers curled into a tight fist as he pivoted left, flexing his control over the shadows using Shadow Manipulation. A panic squawk was heard among the trees. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward a towering tree. He halted beside its thick trunk, eyes scanning the canopy above.

Peter waited in silence for a few moments. Above him, leaves rustled, and a parrot ensnared in its shadow slowly floated down to him. It squawked in protest, trying to fight the bindings, but failing to overcome the shadow under Peter’s command.

He stepped forward, raised his left hand and slowly pressed his middle finger on the bird’s forehead. Its movements stilled, irises enlarged as Mental Domination encroached on its mind. The parrot trembled for a bit, its tongue hanging out of its beak, then it went rigid. Its wings drooped, claws curled mid-air, frozen in a moment it couldn’t escape.

Peter’s brows lowered in focus, as he made careful consideration to not hurt the creature in any way. He only needed a temporary aerial scout, and he could do it without giving permanent damage to the parrot’s psyche.

A drop of ibony dark mana gathered at Peter’s finger, vanishing into the bird’s forehead like ink spreading in water. It remained peacefully oblivious to the intrusion, its chest slowly rising and falling.

Peter closed his mind and allowed it to surge into the bird’s mental domain with the skill. The world around him dulled, replaced by a boundless void, which was vast and silent. In this still blackness floated wisps of light in various chaotic clusters—sometimes aligning together, sometimes dispersing in ever-changing spirals.

Peter floated closer, and they flashed bright in response. A multitude of colours assaulted his metaphysical vision, and he realised what they were. The parrot’s thoughts. He noticed a lot of yellow bursts of instinct and only a few violet sparks of memory.

When the cluster scattered deeper into the dark, Peter didn’t give chase. He threaded a tendril of his will forward, gently guiding it around the creature’s subconscious.

‘Just for scouting,’ he reminded himself, weaving the thread around it. It was meant to cradle, not to bind. He only needed it to be a frame of obedience and understanding, not a prison. Peter lightly brushed his intent across the parrot’s consciousness, seeping it into the bird’s mind.

Once it was done, Peter withdrew, letting the void dissolve in his metaphysical vision. He opened his eyes and let out a slow exhale of relief. It was a success. With a thought, he released his control on the shadow binding the parrot, making it fall into his palms.

It blinked slowly, then it stood up and preened its features, looking at him with curiosity.

“Let’s return to the campsite,” Peter said, a soft smile on his lips. It clicked its tongue before whistling before climbing on his shoulder to perch.

“Hold tight,” Peter warned before making his way back to the camp, his transformation slowly dissolving like wax from a hot iron rod, shadows returning to their homes.

…

“Where did you find it?” Mariah asked, starting a staring contest with the bird.

“Not very far actually.” Peter replied, extending his arm toward her and watching as the bird walked over it to approach her before jumping to sit on her shoulder.

Mariah hesitantly raised her fingers to caress its colourful head before turning her gaze back to him, “Looks well trained…did you go into the forest to get it? I don’t remember you telling me anything about it.”

…End of chapter…