Chương 103: Fireside Confessions

Cal waded into the mountain pool, the water rising past his knees, then his waist, and finally his chest as the icy shock drove the breath from his lungs. His teeth chattered violently, but he kept going until he was submerged to his neck. The frigid bath helped wash away layers of dried blood and the lingering biological odor of repellent as he scrubbed at his skin with numb fingers, watching the water cloud around him. When he finally dragged himself out, Selara was waiting with her hand already extended.

A rush of warmth wrapped around him, driving the chill from his bones. Cal let his eyes drift shut for a moment, savoring it.

"Better?" Selara asked.

"Much." She gestured toward the fire.

"You look half-dead." Her eyes swept him from boots to crown in a quick assessment before settling on his face. One eyebrow lifted.

"But smug about it. That's either a very good sign or a very bad one. Sit down and start talking before I decide which." Limping to the fireside, Cal lowered himself onto a flat stone, letting the heat from the flames soak into his sore muscles. He accepted the wineskin she offered with a nod of thanks. The spirit was fruity and sweet, rinsing out the vile taste of bile.

"Give me a moment, please," he requested. Selara settled across from him and turned a skewer of meat over the coals. The sizzle and snap of grease hitting flame filled the silence between them. Cal leaned back, closing his eyes. The firelight danced against his lids as his mind turned inward.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Selara poked him in the ribs. Cal flinched and looked up, taking another pull from the wineskin before passing it back. As he organized his thoughts, he carefully weighed what to share against what to hold back. He trusted Selara more than he'd expected to trust anyone in this world, but that trust had its limits. His Impartments were the core of his advantage, the foundation on which everything else was built. That secret stayed buried. But the pulse? That was different.

A perceptive trick born of necessity, the product of his own creativity and frustration. That felt safe enough, and she'd more than earned a bit of his confidence.

"I wasted most of the first half of my trip," he started. Selara looked at him askance, but said nothing.

"My active perception wasn't covering enough ground, and I couldn't find any glimmerdew. I was moving through the Depths in a spiral, checking every nook and cranny I could reach. It was… thorough… but it was slow. Too slow. I kept missing patches of moss that were just outside my range." He grinned sheepishly.

"I got frustrated. I needed a way to scan a larger area, so I started experimenting with my perception." She leaned forward slightly.

"Experimenting how?"

"I tested a modified version of my active perception," Cal said.

"Instead of expanding it directly from my Mana pool, I created a pulse. A single omnidirectional burst of spiritual sight that travels outward and returns with the locations of every aura in range." Selara tilted her head to one side.

"Omni… directional? Pulse? You mean like a blastwave?" Crumb, I have to be more careful. He'd thought the word in English, only to realize his subconscious translation for omnidirectional was a clumsy literalism: 'all-directions.' The local word for 'pulse' evoked the image of a raindrop rippling across a pool of water, a more natural concept than the one from his Earth-brain.

"Yes, exactly," Cal quickly replied.

"A blastwave of [Spiritual Perception]. I charged a [Continuance] rune in my spirit and released the Mana all at once into my perception, giving me a three-dimensional map of spiritual signatures over a broad area." Selara stiffly lowered the meat skewer she was holding, staring at him the whole way.

"A [Continuance] rune," she repeated slowly.

"The one I just taught you. You used a rune designed for steady power as—as what? A Mana detonation? Inside your own spirit?" She stared at him, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and concern.

"Cal, one miscalculation, one moment of lapsed concentration and that rune would have injured you. It could have crippled your Mana channels permanently. It… it could have killed you!" Surprised by her intense concern, a cold sweat broke out on his back. He realized he hadn't fully considered the dangers, only his desperate need for results.

"The risk felt manageable," he mumbled, the words sounding hollow even to him.

"It was stable during the charge. I… I didn't push it too far."

"Manageable," she repeated, her brow creasing skeptically.

"Most would call it suicidal." The alarm in her eyes faded, replaced by grudging curiosity.

"I've never heard of anyone forcing their perception like that. It sounds like something the high-end Forager Guilds might have developed. How far does it reach?"

"Hundreds of yards, depending on how much Mana I charge into the rune." Her lips parted slightly.

"Hundreds of yards? At F-tier? Cal, that's absurd. My active perception at D-tier barely covers that much ground, and I have a perfect foundation."

"Perfect foundation? Are you also pursuing the Sovereign Path?" Selara smiled wryly.

"You could say that. The Sovereign Path is an individual philosophy, a road for fanatics who want to build themselves into legends through sheer will. It's the idea that one can only achieve the pinnacle of power if you claw your way to it through your strength alone." She shook her head.

"No, what the noble houses do is just nepotism and wealth. But our punches don't hit any less hard for it." She stared into the fire, her expression growing distant.

"Using family wealth to build a foundation for the next generation is customary. The practice is as much a display of power as it is an investment in the house's future. A way of showing rivals how much coin you can afford to burn on a single child, while also ensuring your legacy will be strong enough to continue and grow." Her gaze returned to him.

"A Sovereign Aspirant seeks power for personal gain. A noble's foundation is meant to produce a more valuable family asset." Cal nodded thoughtfully.

"That makes sense. Thanks for explaining it to me. And while I can apparently push my perception as far as a D-tier… it really drains Mana fast to operate at maximum range."

"Still," Selara considered.

"That's impressive. Walk me through how you refined it."

"It was a messy process," Cal admitted.

"The first time I unleashed it I was so focused on the discharge that I completely forgot to feather the edge." Selara went still.

"A natural scan? Cal, to higher tiers that's the spiritual equivalent of kicking down every door and shouting a challenge."

"I learned that lesson quickly," he said, his tone grim.

"An E-tier vorlag serpent answered the call. That's how the fight began." Her eyes widened.

"An E-tier vorlag hunted you because of your botched experiment? Its scales are like stone at your level! How did you survive?" Cal recounted the fight in the cavern. He described the desperate chase into a dead end, the initial failed attacks against its armored hide, and the stroke of bad luck that saw the runic whistle ripped from his neck.

The account grew more harrowing as he spoke of being bitten, forcing him to cast a desperate [Conjure Flame] into the creature's mouth before delivering the fatal stab with his shortsword. When he finished, Selara just stared at him and shook her head.

"You are insane," she stated, matter of fact.

"It worked."

"Barely. But you kept your head, even after your lifeline was gone. That's what matters." He gave a small nod, appreciating the validation.

"What happened afterwards?" Cal continued with looting the corpse and ore, a task cut short by the D-tier tendril. He went on to describe the terrifying encounter that followed, detailing the creature's acid blood and the cavern collapsing around him.

"I got away safely, but I was deep in the tunnels and surrounded by who knows what." He blew a raspberry.

"I was trapped. I had no choice but to master the technique so I could safely navigate out."

"Had no choice? You retrieved the whistle, didn't you?" Selara asked.

"I did… but I was confident I could figure it out with a bit more practice." She motioned for him to keep going, but he could tell she didn't approve. From there he explained the next phase, which involved hiding in an alcove to methodically rebuild his pulse technique. This time, he integrated the [Feathered Edge], detailing the painstaking process of iterating on the charge and release that pushed his range out yard by yard.

"Once I was confident I had the theory right, I needed a live target for a final test." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Her eyebrows rose.

"Don't tell me—""I found an E-tier hjort weasel and scanned it repeatedly for a couple of minutes, right until my Mana was completely dry. I had to be absolutely certain it wouldn't notice." She let out an incredulous snort.

"You survived a near-fatal encounter with one E-tier predator you provoked by accident, and your immediate next step was to deliberately risk provoking another, on purpose, to test a theory?"

"Had to be sure," Cal said simply, then grinned.

"At least I had the whistle ready that time." Selara leaned back, eyes narrowing as she considered him.

"You know what keeps catching me off guard with you?" He shook his head.

"The speed is what's astonishing. You adapt to things that should kill you before they finish killing you." She studied him across the fire, her eyes searching his face.

"Where does that come from?" The question surprised him. It was sincere, born of real curiosity, and Cal sat with it for a moment before answering, turning the words over in his mind while he considered what he was willing to reveal. Selara - especially Selara - and even Aurelian, in his own way, had been good to him. Perhaps it was time to start extending them a little trust, even if he would do it while leaning on [Deception].

"Honestly?" he said.

"I pick things up fast. Always have." He shrugged.

"Faster than I probably should. I noticed it early, back when I was newly Awakened. Sometimes things just… click, and then they're there." Selara leaned forward slightly.

"Fast how?"

"Hard to put a number on it," Cal replied, looking down at the fire.

"I just know that when I put my attention on something I can often find a solution, and it tends to stick. The perception technique was intentional. It made sense in my mind before I ever attempted it. Then, after escaping from the consequences of my disastrous initial success, I sat in that alcove and worked through the technique until the method was useable and safe. I kept practicing it until it was simple to reproduce." He paused.

"Most people, I think, would have needed days or weeks for that. I needed a couple hours." Selara regarded him thoughtfully, grey eyes moving over him appraisingly, seeming to try and decipher the riddle his growth was.

"That is an incredible advantage," she said finally.

"I know." Selara seemed as if she wanted to push further, but he dug into his pack for a diversion. He retrieved a folded preservation cloth and peeled back the corners to reveal the severed D-tier tendril inside. Its dark red flesh gave a slow throb in the firelight. The noblewoman jerked back, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Disgusting, Cal! Put that away!"

"But—but it's D-tier," he pointed out.

"It has to be valuable, right?"

"It is revolting," she countered, leaning further away from the pulsing mass.

"Save that little treasure for Aurelian; he has the stomach for such things." She shivered.

"I have carved innumerable bits and pieces out of all manner of creatures, but I draw the line when they do not stop wiggling after death." He smirked and wrapped the appendage back up. Reaching deeper into his pack, he pulled out the next two most valuable things he'd recovered: the chunk of shiny ore and the spearhead he'd taken from the dead adventurer. She glanced over the bladed tip briefly before locking onto the ore, quickly reaching out to pick up the metallic chunk.

"By the spirits," she murmured. Cal frowned.

"You're not interested in the spearhead? Its spiritual resonance is much higher." She barely glanced up.

"It is a fine piece of E-tier equipment, to be sure. Its aura feels powerful because it is a larger, enchanted object, and quantity has a quality all its own." She hefted the small chunk of ore.

"Pound for pound? This is a king's ransom." The firelight revealed a kind of reverence in her face that Cal hadn't seen before.

"Do you know what it is?" Selara asked.

"Magical metal," Cal declared, his estimation of it rapidly changing.

"E-tier, I think." Selara snorted.

"Where did you find this?"

"In the cavern with the serpent. A small vein ran through the stone behind the tendril hole." He mentally slapped his forehead and thought, in a cave now buried under a mountain of collapsed rock. Blahhh… Selara turned the ore over again, her fingers running along the faint veins of darker metal laced through it.

"You've found something far more significant than 'magical metal,' Cal. This is Vae'zhar." Seeing that Cal didn't understand, Selara continued." Vae'zhar is a Mythren'dir word. It is a classification for rare materials that naturally conduct spiritual energy. Most metals and crystals can be enchanted, but Vae'zhar materials have an innate affinity for Mana or Stamina. They can hold power and aid in channeling it."

Cal remembered the image of Amina channeling Stamina into her bow during the battle with the groveback tortoise, the weapon glowing faintly as energy rushed through its frame.

She set the ore down carefully and manifested her sword from her void ring, the powerful blade gleaming in the light from the flames." Flamewright," Selara said.

"Is a Tel-Vae'zhar variant. It channels both Stamina and Mana equally. Exorbitantly expensive, and worth every copper." She dismissed the blade and picked up the ore again, weighing it in her palm.

"What you have here is an unrefined E-tier Ka-Vae'zhar metal. It resonates with Stamina, making it ideal for those on the Martial Path." She paused, her lips quirking into a faint smile.

"Yorrin would probably embarrass himself if you put this on his workbench." Cal could not wait to see the look on the blacksmith's face.

"How rare is it?"

"Rare enough that most smiths go their entire careers without working it. Finding a vein of it is a once-in-a-lifetime discovery for most prospectors." She handed the ore back to him.

"This is a major find, Cal. Don't undervalue it." The fire continued to crackle between them. After a time, Selara grew somber, her eyes fixed on the glowing embers.

"There's something I need to tell you." Cal looked up.

"Aurelian had an apprentice before you, you know. His name was Rajko." Her eyes stayed fixed on the fire as she spoke, not seeming to see the flames.

"Rajko was gifted," Selara said, her voice dropping lower.

"Brilliant, even. His natural talent for alchemy was extraordinary, but that aptitude was matched by his arrogance; he believed intelligence and potential were sufficient protection against any risk." Cal said nothing, sensing that interrupting would break whatever fragile trust had opened the door to this story.

"He pushed himself constantly, staying awake for days to refine a single pill while testing volatile compounds without proper safeguards, experimenting with reagents he did not fully understand. Aurelian warned him." She blew out a breath in exasperation.

"Oh, how Aurelian warned him." She clenched her fists on her knees.

"He tried refining a new C-tier pill using an experimental and untested formula. He should have waited for Aurelian's oversight, but he was convinced he could handle it alone." Releasing her fists, the tension seemed to go out of her.

"The cauldron detonated," Selara stated flatly.

"The explosion killed him instantly, destroyed half of Aurelian's laboratory, and injured two other students who were working nearby." Cal suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"The Dominion's official reason for the expulsion was negligence. Because Aurelian saw the signs and had not done enough to stop it. My brother lost his license in the capital, his reputation, and his position at the Academy." She finally looked at Cal, her eyes hard.

"Rajko's death did not just cost him his life. It cost Aurelian everything." The dancing light cast deep shadows on her face. For the first time since Cal had met her, Selara looked tired.

"I see Rajko in you sometimes," she continued softly.

"It is in that look you get when you find a new edge. That ' I wonder how far this goes' look. I understand the whistle getting knocked away during the fight. That is bad luck. But you got away. You were safe, yet you chose to push on, to risk ruining your own spirit just to refine a new perception trick." Her voice rose.

"You had another option, Cal, but you chose to foolishly do the dangerous thing. That is what Rajko did." She leaned forward, her expression fierce.

"Do not make me regret giving you that whistle. Do not hesitate to use it in the future when we are together." Cal held her stare for a long moment, absorbing the significance of her words. He looked past her criticism and saw the fear driving them. The simple fact that someone like Selara - who moved through the world with such confidence and competence - was scared on his behalf… It mattered a great deal.

"I'll be more careful," Cal replied earnestly. The words were simple, but he meant them. Selara studied him, seeming to find what she saw satisfactory.

"Good." The fire popped, sending flickering embers up into the dark trees overhead. Cal let out a slow breath, the tension of their conversation settling in his shoulders. He hesitated, then decided to press the opening her concern had created.

"There's something else," he admitted.

"The channel erosion... it's getting worse." Selara glanced at him.

"How much worse? Last you mentioned, I think it was around eighteen percent."

"Nineteen. The fight with the serpent pushed it up again."

"Nineteen? At this rate you'll permanently cripple yourself before you even have a chance to attempt the D-tier breakthrough. And you'll probably do it during a fight and get killed for your efforts." A frustrated sigh escaped her.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about with your recklessness." He nodded grimly.

"I need a solution. Now. Aurelian mentioned natural treasures. Is it possible to buy one that could heal something like this?" She stared into the flames, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"To buy one? Certainly not. To buy one's location … it is possible," she said finally.

"But the odds of finding one around Deadfall are almost zero. Treasures potent enough to mend spiritual pathways typically only manifest in areas of extreme essence saturation. Usually, that requires the overlapping influence of multiple dungeons, and we only have the one." Cal sighed disappointedly.

"Even if one did appear," she continued, "it would have a guardian. The most powerful spirit beasts in a region sense these treasures forming and immediately claim them, waiting for the prize to fully mature before consuming it. That process often mutates them into a rare elemental variant. You recall the nature stones you have used for your purification draughts?" He nodded.

"This spirit beast-natural treasure cycle is the most common way the creatures that form those stones are created." She continued, her expression leaving no room for false hope.

"And that guardian is not the final problem. These treasures are too volatile to be harvested. You cannot pick one, put it in your pack, and take it to an alchemist. The treasure must be consumed on-site while still being connected to its source. It is why they are never for sale. The only thing a forager can sell is the location, and the buyer has to face whatever is waiting there." Selara watched him for a long moment, her features softening slightly in the orange glow.

"Look," she said, her tone a little less harsh.

"It is a long shot, but I shall keep an eye out. I can range a bit further than usual on my next few circuits. There are still some deep places I haven't fully explored."

"Thank you, Selara!" Cal exclaimed.

"That would be incredible!"

"Alright, alright. Just remember who your favorite master is. Now get to bed. I want to get started at first light tomorrow." The next day they broke camp in the quiet of early morning. The walk back to Deadfall started in companionable silence, their conversation the night before having changed something. By the time the village gates came into view, Aurum had vanished below the horizon once again. Shortly after they passed under the timber archway, a runner in the uniform of House Kaelix obstructed their path.

He presented Selara with a sealed letter, the crest of a golden scale over a silver sword gleaming in the dim light. Selara broke the seal, her eyes quickly reading the contents. Her face went pale, then hardened with weary frustration. She folded the parchment with an angry crease. She looked at Cal in his torn clothing and ruined armor, and sighed.

"Go home, Cal. Get some real rest. You have earned it." He nodded, too tired to question the sudden shift in her demeanor.

"But be at the Mortar at first light," she commanded.

"Do not be late. It seems we have a problem."