Chapter 182: The Calm Before the Hunt + Uh, Artworks?

[Not professional artwork or anything, just something I ended up doodling while definitely not editing this chapter. Started with one sketch, somehow ended up with three.

Behold: Alder the owlcat.
I think I actually nailed how I pictured him in my head.

Then there’s chibi Jade. Ignore the burger.

I dropped them on Discord to flex my barebones drawing skills until someone asked me to try sketching a specific scene. So I gave it a shot. It’s that little flashback moment in Reiner's pov. "Reiner exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stay angry at her. She reminded him too much of Jade. That thought dragged up an old memory, how Jade’s eyes lingered on market stalls filled with plush toys. She’d never ask for one, always tucking her emotions away so she wouldn’t trouble him. But he’d buy them anyway, and the way her smile bloomed was worth far more than the trinkets themselves."

That’s about it. I just realized I can kinda draw again, still barebones, but not hopeless.
If anyone wants to see something else, toss an idea my way. I might just sketch it.

Anyways, happy reading!]

***

So… uhh… I was just trying to test the potency of Basilisk venom against my own biology. Turns out, it was quite potent, potent enough that it took my Poison Immunity a full second to scrub it out of my system.

Whatever they saw afterward was… merely a side effect! I’d told them the honest truth, really. Because, logically speaking, it’s a fundamental part of any self-respecting experimenter’s process to test every poison known to existence against their own resistance. How else would one gauge progress? Whatever happened as a result wasn’t something to be embarrassed about!

The explanation made perfect sense in my head. I even nodded to myself, reassured by my flawless reasoning.

Belle, at least, seemed to buy it, she let out a delighted Squee! before launching herself into my arms, her fluffy form nearly knocking me off balance. Aww. I missed my floofy badger too.

Alice, on the other hand, didn’t look remotely convinced. Her face was the picture of someone choosing peace over confrontation. She didn’t comment on my so-called “experiment,” which suited me perfectly fine. Though, if she could stop glancing at me like I was about to sprout extra limbs, that’d be great.

Anyway, focus. Lysska and Vyra were here today, both dressed to impress in noble attire. The main reason was, of course, where I currently was: Vasilisa’s mansion in the upper district. And Vasilisa, being disgustingly rich, fit right in. Her brand had a monopoly on every alchemical luxury the nobility could dream of, and her mansion reflected every ounce of that wealth. Hidden beneath all that opulence, however, was her true pride: a sprawling underground research lab.

In her own words, “Alchemical Mastery is a myth. There’s always another unknown waiting to be derived.”

And well… I couldn’t agree more.

I spun the basilisk dagger between my fingers, its slick green sheen catching the light. Just thinking about how I’d crafted it had my mind sparking with possibilities, things I could create, things I might have to defend against in the future. But that was a problem for later. For now, I already had some clever defensive concepts brewing.

Because of where Vasilisa’s mansion was situated, though, every time Lysska or someone else from the gang dropped by, they had to play noble to avoid suspicion. The upper district’s gold cores were paranoid as hell now a days, snooping into anything that so much as smelled off.

Still, I couldn’t shake the itch to test myself. I’d been thinking about tempting the low-gold leader of Iron Pact, the one currently hunting for me, just to see where I stood. It’d be the perfect chance to sharpen my remaining skills through real combat, to push for faster advancement.

But even as the idea crossed my mind, it felt reckless. Like that little moral victory over the clumsy elven low-gold was getting to my head. That elf didn’t even fully understand his own power. I could tell by how that guy fought. It was just… clumsy.

But true gold cores… They were different beasts entirely. True powerhouses. The ones who had carved through their paths. They gained enlightenment twice: once when breaking through to red, and again when ascending to gold. At least, that’s how the tales went.

I shook my head. No point making dumb moves when I already had a better plan.

“So while I do think it’s a great idea,” Lysska said, “that still doesn’t change the danger you’ll be walking into, Jade. You do understand that, right?”

Even while one part of my brain was tangled in strategy, another was tuned in to her words.

“Yes, I understand the risks,” I said, shrugging lightly. “But I’m not planning to hide forever.” A small grin crept across my face. “Besides, Spirit Hunt sounds fun.”

There were even more reasons for me to jump into this now. The first, and probably most important, was that the challenges were designed to scale to the challengers themselves. They weren’t random gauntlets as they were meant to probe for weaknesses, to reveal the cracks in your current self.

For me, that meant getting a clear picture of what could actually hurt me now, and by extension, what I’d need to develop in the future to counter those threats.

The second reason was the opening event, the “pre-trial” before the main four began. Lysska had gone over it with me in detail. It was essentially a battle royale with a points system layered on top. The Colosseum would scatter participants across a part-dungeon and a part-constructed spirit world, where the goal would be to hunt enhanced monsters for points. Killing other participants was also on the table, since eliminating rivals netted more points.

Death wasn’t supposed to be permanent in this pre-trial; the Colosseum would yank you out the moment you hit death’s door. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t be severely injured, crippled, or otherwise left a bloody mess by someone who wanted to make an example out of you.

It was still a dangerous game, one with very real risks, but the Ancestors from the Astral Plane would be watching, and that was the entire point. The trials weren’t just tests after all. They were a spectacle.

This first challenge, though, opened up opportunities I couldn’t ignore. For one, the monsters. Lysska had told me there would be moments when we’d be free of scrutiny, pockets of time where the Ancestors’ gaze didn’t reach. Those were the windows where I could cut loose, go on a devouring binge, and amass morphogen. Plus, if the monsters were as strong as she implied, the experience would be invaluable.

It was the perfect setup, kill two birds with one stone. Grind my power up while also erasing the stain on my name in one sweep.

“Well, it certainly won’t be fun,” Lysska said flatly. “Once the participants realize who you are, they’ll come after you.”

“That’s why it’s going to be fun,” I replied with a grin full of teeth.

Lysska merely shook her head. "It is undoubtedly an effective method, yet I cannot quiet this feeling of uncertainty in my gut." I followed her gaze to the board where she'd sketched out her reasoning. "I feel I am missing a piece. I cannot identify it, and that is the most troubling part. Because on the surface, nothing is amiss. Everything is proceeding exactly as foreseen. Even the intelligence from Alice aligns perfectly."

It was the first time I had seen Lysska so visibly anxious. "Can you... elaborate?" I asked.

Lysska's expression turned conflicted as she weighed her words. "Very well. The primary uncertainty is that the dragonfire itself could be a trap laid by the Flameclaws. The logical course for you would be to lay low or flee the city. But they might know more about your... nature." Her face held a knowing look, and I understood her meaning, they could be aware of my draconic heritage. "So this entire situation might be a snare. Perhaps a gold core is waiting there, guarding the dragonfire, anticipating your arrival."

I gave a conceding nod. "That sounds less like an uncertainty and more like a variable that requires a proper plan, one that accounts for that very risk."

Lysska nodded in turn. “Well, I do have a strategy in mind. And I would be going in there with you. I merely require your assistance with some… preparatory measures.”

“Oh?”

“Alchemical assistance. Help me craft a likeness of you.”

I considered it for a moment. “That… should be within the realm of feasibility. And the second uncertainty?”

Lysska paused, her expression turning inward. “It is more a sensation in my gut than a concrete fact. If I were to compare it, it is the same unease I felt when you first introduced me to Alice. It is as if… I am currently blind to something important, something resting plain in my sight. Velesin, that Lowgold Iron Pact leader should be actively hunting for you, yet for some reason he hasn’t departed their main base in two days. His movement would have been expected; his silence, however, grants me no comfort.”

“You suspect he may be plotting in the shadows.”

“Precisely. And since it is the Iron Pact, one can safely assume Elven involvement once again. The Flameclaws do not traffic with Elves, and they may have Pressured the Iron Pact to sever ties as well. It is a political creature,” Lysska explained, moving to the board and sketching out circles with her chalk. One, the largest, for the Flameclaws; a second, nearly as large, for the Vor’akhs; a third for the Elves, adorned with a question mark; and a fourth, the smallest, for the Iron Pact.

“The political landscape of Varkaigrad is ripe with tension, more so than it has been in decades. Perhaps that was the Elves' objective all along; every recent incident bears their fingerprints. Though I lack concrete proof, if that is their agenda, their next move will complement this friction and push it over the verge.”

She connected the circles with dots to illustrate alliances, then paused in thought before drawing another circle, not a faction, but representing the Lower District.

“Alice mentioned today she was marking places of high population density in the lower district, on the order of the Elves. What such places share is a sheer concentration of life force. And given the Elven proclivity for rituals that consume such energy to fuel their workings, it isn’t difficult to guess their intent here.”

I had arrived at the same conclusion the moment she spoke. “So you will be on the lookout… correct?”

“I intend to be. But you needn’t worry about it. Focus on what you must do. I have some new allies, so I won’t be short on firepower. Plus, a great many people in the lower district owe me favors. If I spot those knife-eared schemers lurking where they shouldn’t, I’ll make sure to give them a most deserving surprise.” By ‘new allies,’ she certainly meant the Sablethorn Patriarch. It seemed they were on friendly terms now. Well, good for her.

While I understood Lysska’s uncertainties, there was nothing I could directly do to resolve them. And frankly, the whole political discourse was a tedious web. So, I steered us back onto the more engaging path: the detailed location and structure of the place where the dragonfire was held, and the precise mechanics of her plan.

***

Velesin gazed out the window, where the full moon hung like a luminous pearl, spilling its milky twilight over the vast expanse enclosed by the barrier surrounding the Iron Pact territory. The scene conspired to craft a faux peace that he knew with certainty did not exist. His own face, reflected in the glass, showed the strain; the grey serpentine scales at his neck had lost much of their former gleam, and even his slitted crimson eyes seemed to hold a dimmer fire.

“My Lord, may I ask what is weighing upon your mind?” A voice echoed softly in the room, and Velesin fought a visceral urge to splatter its origin into paste in the very next instant.

Once again, he had failed to detect the man’s approach. Despite being a Low Gold, his perception was failing him. He knew it was the fundamental nature of the man’s Water affinity, but that knowledge did nothing to make cultivators of such paths any less irritating.

He turned slowly to face the pale-skinned elf. “Why ask a question to which you may already have the answer? Who’s to say you haven’t already dipped into the well and drawn it out?”

The elf merely continued to stare, his unnerving smile not quite reaching the definition of a true smile. “I am here to serve you in any matter, my lord. And while the sea of your mind feels temptingly turbulent, I am bound by my servitude. I would not dare to cross that shore.”

Once again, proclaiming his loyalty. Servitude. Heh. Velesin suppressed a bitter pang of laughter.

“Should I assume you are having second thoughts about your contract with us?” the elf continued, his tone smooth. “Seeing as you have made no effort to contact us, going so far as to avert any manner of communication.”

Velesin simply smiled— a dangerous expression— and released the pressure of his Gold core. Immediately, the elf was driven to his knees. “Watch your tone, ‘servant,’” Velesin growled.

Though the weight of his power slammed down upon the elf, forcing him to the floor, the elf’s expression never altered. That slight, placid smile never faded. After a long moment, Velesin let the pressure abate. Dealing with this bastard always left a foul taste in his mouth. And given his recent actions, it was no wonder they suspected he was avoiding them.

But the truth was far simpler: the old fossils from the Flameclaw had finally crawled out of their caves. Filthy, ancient fucks. They had to emerge from their solitude just when he was left alone to operate the Iron Pact. But then, that seemed to be their very intention. Clever old bastards.

It was they who had warned him, in subtle, unspoken terms, that they knew of his connection to the elves. He’d been forced to put on a front, to weave a lie and somehow prove he had no interest in maintaining those ties. He couldn’t risk sending letters or using communication relays, just in case those fossils had eyes everywhere.

If he were caught, he would be in deep, irrevocable trouble. No matter his own power, he couldn’t hope to stand against the collective might of the Flameclaw.

So he offered a spare description of the situation, carefully omitting any mention of his own current vulnerabilities to the elf before him. He had no intention of breaking their contract. He needed it— it was the cornerstone of his plan to one day stand on his own, to finally show those Flameclaw fossils that he was not a tool to be tied down and used.

"So, while I appreciate your… pilgrimage to my door," he finished, "I must insist it would be unwise for you to linger."

The elf’s unnerving expression remained unchanged like a mask fixed in place.

"Please, do not trouble yourself with concerns for my presence, my lord. If we do not wish to be found, no Gold Core can detect us. What we employ is far more than mere stealth."

It was a single word that suddenly set alarm bells clanging in Velesin’s mind. "What do you mean, ‘we’?"

For the first time, the elf’s smile widened. And immediately, Velesin felt them, almost a dozen presences flickering into his perception. They were all around him, encircling him, and he had been utterly oblivious. Of course. He’d brought friends.

"We may be mere Red Cores, my lord. But trust me, even a Gold Core should fear those who can see the vast sea that connects every mind. Who can walk through its currents… and manipulate its tides to their will."

Velesin scoffed. He needed to try that fear-mongering on someone greener; he had faced far worse threats. "So what now? I assume you assembled this choir just in case I was backing out of our arrangement?"

"That was the initial composition, yes. But on our way, we discerned one of the factors troubling you. That… Drakkari girl. Jade. How would it suit you if we handled her, freeing you to focus on matters of true consequence?" The elf bowed. Yet, the mere mention of her name set his crimson eyes ablaze. He reined in the fury. His first instinct was to refuse, she was his prey.

He would make her pay for every ounce of shit he was now enduring. That filthy Red Core bitch. The sheer humiliation she had authored made every day he spent without her head on a spike a unique torture.

But… perhaps these mind-weavers had a point. His own skillset was ill-suited for the patient work of tracking and elimination. And his diviners were useless against that clever little viper.

And these elves… they just might be able to succeed where he had so far failed. All while he focused on the grander design.

After a weighted moment, he gave a curt nod. "I would still need to maintain my front, lest the Flameclaw relics grow suspicious. And as for you… while I have witnessed your impressive stealth firsthand, I remain… unconvinced of your tracking abilities."

This only made the elf’s smile deepen into something truly unsettling. "Please, be at ease, my lord. The unseen sea guides us to every shore. Simply leave the girl to us. We will deliver results before the moon completes its cycle."

***

Jade (possible future champion): Currently scheming how to sneak her name into a gladiatorial death game without “accidents.”

“Spirit Hunt sounds fun!”

Lysska (the professional worrier): Currently 80% strategy, 15% anxiety, 5% chalk dust. Suspects reality itself is conspiring against her.

“Nothing is amiss,” she mutters, writing two more contingency plans.

Belle (the badgermaid): Hug quota fulfilled. Still on high alert for invisible assailants. Considering a strict “no venom consumption indoors” policy.

Alice (the doll): Is currently serving as the unwilling recipient of Vyra's attentions.

Vyra (Faerin): Thriving. Loving Alice’s company. Possibly too much.

Velesin (the increasingly frazzled low gold): Just realized he’s surrounded by psychic elves. Pride wounded. Sanity questionable.

“This is fine.”

Unnamed Elf (the politely terrifying one): Smiling. Always smiling. Possibly hasn’t blinked in an hour.