Chương 116: Part 98: Ruthless manipulations.

I've been baited, Nestra thought to herself. The claw approached at great speed so she twisted on herself, then landed feet first. Despite the pain in her right flank, she forced herself to charge back in. The feathered lizard squawked and ducked which was just as well because she wouldn't have landed a blow and was getting her ass handed to her at the moment. Nestra landed on the red packed dirt and skid to a halt, a mistake, or so it seemed. The shimmering feathers glowed in the dim light of the red star.

Here it comes again. Instincts and experience guided her blade. She had to resist the urge to close her deluded eyes, currently telling her the block was too far back, that the creature would clip her extended elbows. It didn't. Claws clanged against her growth sword. This time, she held her ground. The lizard was surprised enough that it gave her an opening. Nestra darted in, using precision to land another blow.

The lizard's other limb wasn't there until it was, a blur with a delay that made her grit her teeth in annoyance. She hated illusions. She hated conflicting impressions. And she hated getting baited. As the lizard jumped up and away because it was a predator and hated getting on the back foot, Nestra pointed her fingers towards its chest. With a loud boom, a void bolt smashed through the beast's shoulder, drawing blood and sending bloody pinions fluttering in the cold air. It shrieked in fury, then dove back in.

It's going for my head. Nestra stepped back, then arcane struck down knowing in her heart it would connect. A claw materialized out of nowhere. Her growth blade smashed it against the ground. The creature was unbalanced. Nestra stepped forward, twisted on herself and struck once more with precision. There was barely any resistance this time. Blood spilled in a thick jet, spraying the stone with a new layer of vivid ruby. Nestra stepped back and parried the parting blow she knew would come, left side this time.

The lizard took off. Nestra fell to her knees.

"Ow ow ow, fucking ow. Fuck that thing." Accursed tricky fighters. Only she was allowed to deceive and only the old-fashioned way: with cunning psychology. Anything using illusions was obviously cheating, ergo they were a rotten cunt. Her arm hurt.

"Riel dammit." This wasn't a B-ranked portal world, it was a B-rank world and the Shimmer Lizard was only middle of the pack as far as predators went. She had a loooong way ahead of her. Especially with how easily she was baited. Anyway, time to go. Her quarry didn't know it was dead yet, but the rest of the local fauna would figure it out soon enough and she wasn't sharing.

A blind woman could have followed the trail of blood so she did just that, trotting between pillars or red stone peppered with the occasional shard of volcanic glass, no doubt spewed by the suspicious mountain to her left. Spine-covered growths, as dry as bones, sometimes emerged from the ground in snaking limbs. It was not super hospitable. Two stars. She found the dying lizard being chewed by what looked like a skeletally thin hyena with a back ridge. It was still squealing softly. Nestra waved her sword.

"Fuck off mate, hunt your own lizard." A second ridge beast followed at a slow, menacing pace. Nestra slapped her sword against a rock. The clang made the creatures flinch.

"I could go for some dessert." A third hyena thing joined the pack, then a group of younglings but they kept their distance. For now. Nestra would get first dibs. A downward strike ended her prey's life. Potent energy filled her, this time increasing her magic. More powerful monsters tended to do that which was good because her arcane power still lagged behind. A quick incision revealed a chromatic core pulsing with energy. It was with deep regret that Nestra pocketed it instead of tasting it.

But she was being successfully baited. She still harvested a large amount of feathers for an exotic pillow. Maybe.

"All yours, mates." The ridged hyenas didn't need to be told twice. They descended upon the carcass with ravenous fury, their gamble that Nestra was too skinny to eat everything successful. She still moved to the top of a nearby rock before closing her eyes. The Homeworld wasn't far. Two jumps, and she was home. With a giggle, Grandmother Voidgale grabbed her in a spin. Nestra greeted her ancestor warmly, leading to more spins, then Nestra was on a fast course towards the Growth.

She regained control not too far from the covens. Picking her way through the countless spires was more a matter of vibes than pattern recognition because the older Aszhii enjoyed changing their dwellings according to their mood. Her instincts guided her to her den. The main room was empty by the time she landed. A quick jaunt led her to her quarters where her pillow pile waited.

She had partitioned a cooking spot, with a battery-powered stove that, unfortunately, couldn't be convinced to use the light of the Abyssar to recharge no matter how much Nestra pleaded. It was energy, dammit! There was also an enchanted ice box, elegant art-nouveau furniture stolen from a Heavenly base, a practice corner and even a basic armory where her shotgun and the Windowmaker waited.

It was a relatively cozy spot not unlike a flat recently moved in, showing efforts to make the room her own yet still a bit too empty to be really cozy. White flowers covered the walls at regular intervals alongside algae offered by Blinky. Nestra had done a good job shaping and filling the place over the past two months. Because she was being baited to do so.

"Right. Let's just go then." Nestra flew out of the den, then across the Abyssar-lit expanse that separated the covens from the males' space. In the distance, monstrous cathedrals expanded down as far as up, gothic creations as massive as their owners' egos. Those were the domains of clans under the leadership of a patriarch, his children, and sometimes their children too. Other loose collections of dwellings showed alliances or just where the more social Aszhii gathered.

A majority of the rest were spread out across larger distances. It was said some Aszhii elected to settle on the other side of the star, never meeting one of their kin again which was fair honestly. She knew a couple people who would settle on the other side of the solar system. Probably wasn't great for groceries though. Nestra shook her head. Her destination wasn't a dwelling, but one of the strange locations that peppered the Aszhii section of the growth.

Some were arenas, other museums or mementos built in the maze of thorns by old Aszhii who wanted to remember. There were altars to lost families, trophy collections, even strange works of art carved of kilometers and decades by minds searching for a respite. Once, Nestra came across the representation of a single leaf painstakingly carved to the last fractal iteration. She hadn't dared land to inspect it, and hadn't managed to find it since. Some males saw her pass but they didn't stop her, or dared approach.

After what felt like an hour, her destination came into view. It was a temple made of a wide square crowned on one side by a roof held aloft by stone pillars, the red material incongruous so deep in the Growth. What made the location so peculiar was the collection of weapons stabbed in the ground at the edge: all of them were pitted and old but they spoke of vastly different cultures, care, and technical abilities. A tall humanoid sat under the roof.

His lizard tongue flicked the air when Nestra approached, but he didn't stand from a magical circle engraved with hazy, colorful symbols. His appearance reminded Nestra of the lizardmen except that this one was much taller and thinner with a draconic face that was closer to the tyrannosaurs than it was to the monitor. He also had a long, thin tail he was currently balancing on. She landed on the square then walked, stopping at a respectful distance.

The dragon creature didn't react, so Nestra settled in a lotus position to wait. She expected that it wouldn't be easy, even if she knew she was being baited. The thing was, even knowing it full well, even with the absolute certainty the Aszhii were playing her… she couldn't resist. It was, quite simply, impossible for her not to come. Nestra slowed down her breath and went through the breath exercises she knew. It wasn't her preferred method of relaxation but it would do.

Something told her moving too much or being too obnoxious might be counter productive. Just because it was bait, didn't mean that it would let itself be bitten so easily. After an indeterminate amount of time, the dragon creature lowered itself, standing before her like some sort of pagan god. He was twice Nestra's size. As he strode away from the circle, his steps were deceptively slow and impossibly smooth.

The color of his gray coat changed, showing quick patterns as elusive as oil on the surface of a stormy sea. It could only mean one thing. Speak.

"I have come to learn," Nestra simply said. The dragon flicked his tongue which her brain understood was an acknowledgement. As she had said her part, she waited until he extended a hand. Nestra delivered her most recently acquired core. Thin fingers closed over the offering. So Nestra waited, which made him hiss with amusement. The monstrously tall male approached her then lowered himself until their eyes were level. The four-armed Elder had warned Nestra that boasting would serve no purpose.

Eventually, he turned. The core was tossed to the corner of the arena. Like trash. Nestra swallowed her anger at the disrespect. He didn't need the core. It was the gesture that counted, and he wanted her to know it. The shifting patterns on his skin changed again, growing long and sharp. Nestra grabbed her Aszhii sword. An instant later, a powerful hand snatched it from her grasp. It, too, rolled on the ground. He was waiting. She didn't get it.

Slowly, the blade master pointed at the collection of old weapons surrounding them and she understood. Taking her old claymore from its pocket garnered his approval. The poor thing had endured much since before she'd left Threshold. She would have changed it if she were back on Earth. The skin patterns changed to one of satisfaction. The blade master moved back a few steps, then relaxed. He made a gesture with his fingers. Void mana surged from his core, and quite a lot of it.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. His flesh shifted. His size shortened, and his tail withdrew. In only a few seconds, Nestra was facing what was more or less a human body except for the face. Was this a flesh attunement? Or something else? She didn't know it was even possible. Her opponent extended his hand. A claymore appeared in his grasp, remarkably close to what she was wielding. Nestra knew what was coming. She saluted. He returned it.

They circled each other. Nestra attacked first: a lunge, a feint, then another attack followed by a quick series of fast thrusts. The blade master parried and fell back with tightly-controlled gestures, then he countered. Nestra easily parried before attacking again. She quickened her pace then suddenly struck with unexpected strength. The blade master made as if he were surprised but he still deftly avoided the follow up by stepping back, Nestra hounding him every step of the way.

The battle grew more complicated: her opponent's sequences grew in complexity and in familiarity. Bastard was learning her style. In less than two minutes, he was her perfect mirror. She was essentially facing herself.

"Riel am I this fucking annoying? Gah!" Without prompts, Nestra started charging herself with electricity and using momentum to relocate in order to gain an edge which, of course, didn't work. While she had the initiative at first, the blade master made them evenly matched to push her to her limits, and then something strange happened. He started moving… weirdly: getting lower on the ground, or twisting mid air or using passe-muraille to hit her in the legs (it stung).

He would also allow her to believe she had outmaneuvered him only to kick her when she was about to strike his back. He wasn't faster than her. He didn't use new Aszhii powers. He was just showing her how to move in a B-class body. Only when Nestra was bruised, her muscles straining to their limit to accommodate her speed did he relent, and then only after slicing a thin line of blood on her neck. It was very frustrating but also enlightening in a weird way, to be facing oneself.

She definitely needed to readjust her footwork. The blade master pointed at the edge of the arena, where other discarded weapons rested. She did as he requested by adding her own pitted blade to the collection: a marvel of Threshold engineering laid to rest between a whip made of barbed stone and a club that looked like it had started as some sort of tibia. She returned to find the teacher now back to his own normal body. He invited her to join him. Then he showed her how to move.

"I'm being baited. Lured. Manipulated. Bamboozled and puppeted like a fool," Nestra asserted with confidence. Karamahel helped herself to some more of Blinky's mildest neurotoxin tea, then she discretely pushed the pot in Grook's direction, but without looking. The boulder of a girl picked it up with hesitation before refilling her own mug, which was massive enough to contain one Anzac day's supply of beer (for one person). Very unfairly, Nestra was still banned from trying the uncut version.

"What do you mean?" Sorai asked. Nestra understood the mantis woman's confusion. She came from a society that heavily favored those who could eat enough to become brood mothers apparently, so the more subtle games of the mammals escaped her. Karamahel got it though. Nestra could see it from the way she avoided her gaze, which was an invitation to continue. Karamahel was helpful to those who helped themselves.

"I am being distracted by a thousand shiny things. There is so much to do, to see, to hunt around here. It's an endless buffet for freshly arrived third ascension babies like me. Cool prey. Nice landscapes. Training. Endless burglary opportunities. I am applying myself to progressing and the possibility of a diplomatic expedition is growing ever weaker as more of us get distracted or make their own plans for the future. Or leave. I need… shit I'm not sure what I need. Something else."

"What seems to be the problem?" Karamahel asked, and the phrasing wasn't innocent. She wanted Nestra to identify the issue herself.

"I think I'm being drowned in distractions. I came here and stirred the pot with my demands and weird proposals and this is definitely not the normal Aszhii behavior. You are supporting me, but I can only assume the rest of the covens just think it's just a phase and not who I really am. Growing pains, so to speak." Most don't even think that deep, Blinky flashed. It is simply inertia.

"Right. They found the idea of a diplomatic mission fun but never really intended to act on it. The harvest season will be over before too long. That means the covens will scatter again and with them, my best chance to get this project started. The covens must have discussed my proposal and enough decided against it that—""No. It is lost in limbo," Moon Dancer interrupted.

"Right. So, I showed I am Aszhii enough over the past two months and I'll keep doing that, but I also need to keep the pressure on." Your kind really likes metaphors, Blinky complained though it was without malice.

"So what is your best option to do so?" Karamahel asked. Nestra thought about it. She was not unlike a young guild leader trying to implement a massive change, in a way. By default, the old bastards at the top tended to see anything new with a lot of suspicion, as befit someone who's enjoying the status quo. At least her proposal cost almost nothing and provided potential major benefits to the covens so she wasn't going to piss in anyone's coffee. There was that. Earth wasn't even a hunting ground yet.

But returning to the guild metaphor, how would she implement a large change? Easy. She couldn't do it alone, ergo, she needed allies. In Threshold, she would court the heads of other major guilds, those who had the most to gain from a shift in the paradigm. So it wasn't about moving an entire population with some grand speech. She had to find the most influential Aszhii and convince them to get their followers to, well, follow. But who?

It wasn't like they were advertised in a Raider 50 list updated daily by obsessed fans.

"I need to find those whose voices are listened to, and who might be convinced by my cause."

"You have me," Moon Dancer whispered.

"You also have another one."

"Who?" Nestra asked, unsure. Moon Dancer yowled. The voice of an angry feline emerging from that dainty mouth almost made Nestra spill her tea. But of course.

"Tigress. I need to convince Tigress."

"Her species has no need for home beyond a cave, food beyond meat, or pleasure beyond the hunt," Sorai said.

"You need to tease her out with something new…" She clasped her small hands together.

"But how?"

"Wait," Nestra said.

"Wait. She looks very much like a tiger from my home world. It could be convergent evolution but… did you say she prefers to live in a cave?" The females of her species seek or create shelter to rear their young. Males of her species tend to kill cubs if they can get away with it, just for a chance to mate sooner.

"Damn. That's brutal," Nestra said.

"It's natural," Sorai corrected.

"Brood mothers sometimes eat their own spawn if they need a burst of energy, you know?" Nestra shivered. This wasn't going the way she expected.

"Well anyway I can always try something. How big is she, by the way?"

It was already dark when a heavy hand drummed on Atel's door. Apprentices exchanged worried glances, thin ears lowered in naked worry. Saw and sandpaper waited on half-finished parts. Customers called in the morning, and deliveries left in the afternoon. Those who visited at night were either debtors or the governor's men, come to demand something. All eyes turned to Atel. He considered his options. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be given any.

The heavy hand turned the carved wood aside, revealing the armored torso of a woman. Given that the gate could accommodate the governor and his hat, this was dire news indeed. The tallest Pole Warden Atel had ever witnessed walked through the opening, dark eyes searching the room for threats. She barely saved Atel a glance, but her gaze lingered on his nephew who was second ascension and a wrestler of some fame in one of the fort's seedier taverns. The metal gauntlets on her frame creaked in the stunned silence.

Atel returned his attention to the gate by pure habit, unlike his idiot apprentices. The first woman was the typical knee breaker, the one who collected the attention. The next person to get in would be the more important one. He almost believed that his visitor would end up a young scion so important and noteworthy they needed two expensive thugs to guarantee their safety, but the next one's attention zeroed on him immediately.

The Pole Warden was earth and strength and this one was electricity and water, an almost complete storm affinity for a typical Emerald Sea huntress. She was also of the third ascension which showed that the muscle was only for show. They were not local. He would have heard of them in this frontier fort. Perhaps they were not even here legally. Given the governor's reputation, he would also hide if he were a woman, although those two might not need protection.

"Atel, I presume?" the blonde one asked in a confident alto.

"I am. Welcome to my humble shop, dear lady." His gaze lowered to an unadorned black sword. Her armor was composed of unmarked metal gear from a variety of styles, none of them showing a sigil.

"Err."

"Nestra will do." Curious name. Clearly shortened.

"Nestra it is. How may this humble craftsman be of assistance?"

"I require a custom order done quickly. Please see the blue print."

"The… blue print?" It didn't even look blue.

"The plan. With my requirements." She handed him a rolled parchment, which he gingerly opened. He knew his brows were rising almost to his receding hairline but… this?

"Milady?"

"As I said. Custom."

"I… see." There was more. There was always more, but that would come later.

"Unfortunately, I require approval from the guild for special orders. There is, I am sorry to say, the matter of payment…" The blonde huntress reached for a back pouch. Her gloved fingers returned with the shimmering orange radiance of a core. A beast core of the third ascension given the size. It was probably worth half of Atel's current inventory. Even paying his people for their silence would leave enough to account for all of the current year's taxes with some left over. All for three days of work at most.

His own nature affinity would hasten the process. The huntress had picked her time well, as only his most trusted apprentices would still be working at the time.

"Ah. I see. A princely payment to be sure, however…"

"There are three workshops known for 'rush' orders in this fort, and four across the lake," the woman interrupted with glacial impatience.

"Only one of them will receive the core. Am I to understand my search must continue?" Atel knew when to fold, especially with half of his own people staring daggers. It could be a trap. It could definitely be a trap, but… he looked again at the plan. No one would go to this much effort to catch him accepting deals under the table. He frowned again.

"I assume you will need hidden compartments?" he asked as a rhetorical question.

"No."

"No?" He couldn't hide the disbelief from his voice.

"No enchantment?"

"No enchantment."

"Milady, even should you add them yourself at a later time, I must still adequately prepare the surface."

"None. Consider this a prototype." The situation was growing more ridiculous by the second.

"Milady. This is just —"

"A box." Tigress' tail flitted in the air, attracting Nestra's gaze with its hypnotic dance. Her powerful paws rested on a large yellow rock that still radiated the warmth of a sun-kissed afternoon among thorny growths shaped like a natural cave, down to the half-formed stalagmites. Her abyssal gaze rose to Nestra's form.

"This is a box. Perhaps you will remember that I do not have prehensile body parts?" The way she said it told Nestra it was a bit of a sore spot. Fortunately, this particular hurdle had been taken into consideration during the planning phase.

"Not to worry. It opens with the press of a button." Nestra pushed, and the minibus-sized crate opened with a satisfactory click. The inside was leather that still smelled of the oil used to treat it.

"A box."

"Try it," Nestra suggested, doing her best to keep her composure despite the obvious impatience of a fucking S-rank Aszhii political leader, one who had favored her so far and might very well stop if she offended.

"Please?" With clear confusion, Huntress approached the box.

"What am I supposed to —" And as soon as she was near, she instinctively jumped in. The moment her paws left the ground, Nestra's mind relaxed and she recovered the 5 years of life expectancy her speeding heart had been shedding so far. Huntress' massive head came to a rest against the upholstery. A deep, seismic rumble shook the cavern.

"Hmmmm. Yes." Nestra's terror turned to elation. Yes! Yes, she fucking knew it! Just like Karamahel was obviously a secret spa girl, scrappy rebel leader slash exiled aristocrat that she was, and just as Grook was obviously an MMA tournament junkie, if she fits, she sits. If an Aszhii is shaped like a feline then they must be partly feline.

"Hmmmm. Yes yes yes. I see. I understand." The rumble was now semi permanent, and Nestra would have expressed concern about the building's structural integrity if it were indeed a building and not a planet-sized space plant. The fluffy boa that was Huntress' tail slid over the edge of the box with a quiet hiss. Her large eyes briefly turned to Nestra, finally remembering her presence.

"Hmmm. Yes. Yes. Your gift is… acceptable. Now leave me be. I must… meditate. Ponder upon… things. That I shall convey later. Can this come in heated or cooling variants?"

"But of course."

"Wonderful. Yes. Yeees. Now go." Nestra did so. She hadn't been given the opportunity to present her case. Perhaps there was such a thing as being too successful. It worked, however. Moon Dancer reported that Huntress pushed other convents to gather for a sort of 'conclave'.

"It is usually only done to decide war. No one ever gathered one for peace," Karamahel noted, quite impressed. But alas, Nestra had another pressing issue. Where had Sereth gone?