Chapter 30: Whispers in the Dark
Snivrack moved with practised precision, leaping silently from rooftop to rooftop, his keen eyes fixed on his destination. The pale golden light he had seen earlier lingered in his mind -- a signal of intrigue and potential danger. It had originated from the alleyway of the mansion district, where Michael and Rukla had clashed. He needed to investigate, but caution was paramount.
As he neared the site, he raised a hand, signalling his goblin companions to halt. "Hold the perimeter," he ordered in a hushed but firm tone. "No one gets in or out until I return. If things turn south, retreat and regroup."
His men nodded in silent acknowledgement, slipping into the shadows, weapons at the ready. Satisfied, Snivrack pressed forward alone, his every step measured, his movements ghost-like. The intersections of the mansion district formed a maze of crumbling stone, their silence broken only by distant echoes of battle raging elsewhere in the city. Every corner could hide a foe, every shadow a blade waiting to strike.
As he rounded the final bend, his sharp ears picked up hushed voices ahead. Flattening himself against the cold brick wall, he crept closer, peering around the edge. Two soldiers stood a short distance away, their posture casual but their weapons within reach. Theiarmouror bore the insignia of Crafer -- enemy forces.
"Where did our boss, I mean, Sir Adelric, run off to?" one of them muttered, shifting his weight uneasily.
"I don't know, but we better keep our guard up," the other soldier responded.
"Yeah, I was getting bored being cooped up in that hideout. It's good that we were picked for this mission; at least we get to enjoy some fresh air for a change," the other soldier replied, rubbing his chin.
"I agree with that sentiment. We dodged a bullet by not being assigned to the relic delivery mission."
Snivrack's instincts flared. They weren't on high alert, but not entirely relaxed either. If they lingered too long, reinforcements could arrive. He had to act swiftly and decisively.
He exhaled slowly, weighing his options. A direct assault was risky -- if either of them managed to escape, his men guarding the perimeter could deal with them. But a well-executed ambush? That could work as well.
"what should my next move be?..." Snivrack began to question himself.
For now, they were safe.
That was what Arc gathered from Sharla's hushed voice, barely above a whisper, meant to avoid drawing unwanted attention. The air around them was eerily still, yet if one focused, the distant echoes of clashing steel and surging spells could still be heard. The battle raged elsewhere, far from the mansion district, and the howling wind masked most of the noise. Only the occasional outburst of magic's crackling fury managed to pierce through the veil of silence.
Despite this, Arc and Sharla remained cautious, unwilling to let their guard down. Sharla had maintained a detection spell, but upon retracting it, she confirmed that no immediate threats were present nearby.
"Why did the goblins leave so suddenly?" Arc asked, his brows furrowed.
"I don't know," Sharla admitted, rubbing her temple to soothe an ache. "But I detected no threat nearby. Not that I can check again -- I'm nearly out of mana. If I push myself further, I'll be completely drained."
"Does using scouting magic take that much mana?" Arc questioned. "I've read about it before, but I've never seen it used firsthand."
Sharla exhaled, giving him a weary look. "Scouting spells, regardless of their nature, are notorious for draining a caster's reserves. Even the most basic ones require extreme control and proficiency. Most mages avoid them because while they're useful, they demand a constant flow of mana, which isn't sustainable for long periods. Even I've only scratched the surface of their potential, and I'm nearly depleted."
"I see," Arc murmured, deep in thought.
They needed a way to assess their surroundings. Right now, they were practically blind, forced into hiding with little awareness of what lay beyond their immediate vicinity. Sharla closed her eyes, focusing on regaining her lost mana, but Arc could feel his restlessness growing. He had to do something.
With a quiet breath, he sat down, mirroring Sharla's meditative stance, and began focusing on his mana reserves. A question lingered in his mind -- could he use a similar search spell? He knew it was an advanced skill, but he had to try.
"How does search magic work?" he wondered.
Experimenting cautiously, he released a thin veil of mana from his body, guiding it outward in a slow, spiralling pattern. He commanded the particles to return upon making contact with a solid surface. He started small, limiting the range to a mere meter around him. It wasn't perfect, but when the particles returned, they brought back faint impressions of the world around him.
A crude mental map formed in his mind, though incomplete and hazy. He quickly realized the drawbacks -- only particles that hit surfaces returned, while those that dispersed into open space were lost entirely.
"I see now," Arc muttered. "Even at this range, it eats through my mana fast. Expanding it further would increase the delay in feedback, making it useless in a fast-paced fight. Not to mention I have sealed off most of my body's exterior and only allowed mana to enter and exit my body through designated pathways. Although numerous they are still not enough to retrieve all the particles that make their way back to me which further makes the image hazy. Meaning this method won't work for me. Even if my limitations weren't holding me back This method of casting detection spells would still be useless. Might as well stick to regular senses."
He clenched his fist. If his method was flawed, he needed another approach.
Instead of mapping the entire area, what if he only searched for specific targets? His eyes flickered toward Sharla. A new idea took root. He refined his spell, reducing the number of particles he emitted, and instead, he focused on detecting mana concentrations above a certain threshold. His range extended to about five meters -- just enough to sense Sharla.
It worked.
Not only did he detect Sharla, but several other faint signatures surrounded them -- dots of mana scattered throughout the environment. Narrowing his search, he changed the search parameters, filtering out weaker sources. One by one, the dots faded until only Sharla's presence remained.
"I think I got it," he whispered. "Those must have been other living beings with mana I did read about them in some Magic Journals but seeing them like this that's a first…"
Still, the spell came at a cost. Even with this refinement, the mana drain was significant but manageable. "With this approach, a prolonged use is possible. if I practice it I think I can further reduce the mana drain making it almost negligent." He relayed his findings to Sharla, who listened intently, her eyes widening in astonishment.
"That's… remarkable," she admitted. "Most mages who practice long enough tend to develop similar techniques, but more often than not they abandon it because the effort outweighs the reward. The fact that you grasped it this quickly is impressive."
Arc felt a small surge of pride, but Sharla's expression turned serious.
"Be careful, though. Detection spells make you a beacon for others who can sense mana. The moment you use it, you risk being found."
Arc nodded. "I'll be careful."
Sharla sighed, leaning back as she resumed her recovery. "In the meantime, keep watch while I restore my mana."
Arc extended his detection range—first to fifty meters, then a hundred, finally stopping at two hundred and fifty. "This should be enough. I can't maintain this level of mana for much longer," he muttered to himself.
Then, something unusual happened.
One mana source caught his attention. Unlike the others, it was fast and moving toward the mansion. Arc tried to measure its strength by filtering out noise and adjusting his search parameters carefully, as he couldn't afford to lose the signal. He gradually expanded his search until he struggled to grasp its full power, but by then, it was too late -- Arc was completely exhausted.
Before he could make sense of it, his vision blurred -- His body grew cold.
Mana exhaustion.
"Damn it…" His knees buckled, and darkness clouded his mind.
Before he passed out from exhaustion, he relayed his findings to Sharla. It was Sharla's voice he heard before the world faded to black.
Sharla remained with Arc, hoping they wouldn't be found. Suddenly, a figure approached quickly. She turned, tense and ready to fight, only to be surprised.
"Looks like I found you two," the voice said. It sounded familiar; it was none other than Michael himself. The tense atmosphere dissipated, giving way to a calmer and safer one as Sharla noticed Michael. The scene faded shifting back to the dimly lit, dark alleys of the Mansion District.
In the darkness of the alleyway in the mansion district, three figures moved with practised silence, suppressing their presence to remain unnoticed. The air was thick with tension, their shadows stretching against the dim glow of scattered lanterns.
"Damn, this guard's outfit doesn't fit me at all. Does yours fit any better?" one of the subordinates whispered, adjusting the ill-fitted uniform as he walked.
"Stay quiet; we can't draw attention. We were lucky to find the remains of fresh crafter recruits, which means we can easily blend in at the base." He muttered, scanning the alley ahead.
"What are you two blabbering about?" the leader snapped in a hushed but firm tone. "Don't make me regret bringing you along."
"Sorry, boss man," both subordinates muttered in unison.
The first one hesitated before speaking again. "By the way, boss… did you see that golden light earlier? And that purple flaming blast? Not to mention those lightning strikes. What the hell kind of spells were those? I've never seen anyone wield magic like it."
"The Crafters do seem to wield some over-the-top magic spells," the second subordinate added, unable to hide his unease.
Despite their leader's earlier warning, the two continued their hushed discussion. But just as the leader turned to reprimand them again, he abruptly stopped in his tracks. The two nearly bumped into him, caught off guard by his sudden halt.
"Sir? Did you see something?" one of them asked cautiously.
Adelric, the trio's leader, narrowed his eyes. "It looks like Michael left a goblin survivor for interrogation." He gestured toward the unconscious Goblin restrained against the ground, covered with earth to stop his movements.
Then, turning to one of the subordinates, he added in a steely voice, "And Ryker Thorn -- don't ever call me 'boss man.' Call me 'sir.' or address me by my name. That goes for you as well Lucan Vale."
"Yes, boss ma -- I mean, sir," Ryker corrected himself hurriedly.
"yes, sir," Lucan repeated a similar response following his subordinate.
Lucan Vale, the other subordinate, peered at the unconscious goblin. "Sir, he's out cold. What should we do with him?"
Adelric didn't respond. Instead, he moved deeper into the alley to scan the surroundings. His instincts were sharp from years of experience. Suddenly, he noticed movement and raised a mana detection spell momentarily. There it was -- another goblin, creeping stealthily through the shadows.
Snivrack had arrived. At that moment he was right behind the duo who were still busy bickering in silence. He had taken good cover behind the intersection of the alleyway walls The goblin leader had carefully observed the arguing duo and saw an opportunity to slip past them.
"what should my next move be? Should I deal with them now or wait for them to clear the path?" Snivrack questioned himself. "perhaps dealing with them now is the best option. Besides judging by the looks of their attire they look like recruits. They must have snuck off in the dead of the night which means no one will come to their rescue even if my first attack failed. Not to mention my men are guarding the perimeter. no matter how you slice the situation the cards are in my hands..." His destination was clear -- eliminate the two soldiers and rescue Captain Rukla.
But before he could move, a whisper brushed against his ear.
"Don't bother signalling your comrades. They won't answer."
Snivrack stiffened, his blood running cold. The voice came from right behind him.
Spinning around, Snivrack was met with Adelric's piercing gaze. The man's presence was ghostly, his movements barely detectable. Snivrack instinctively adjusted his stance, his sharp mind racing to assess the situation.
"What do you mean?" Snivrack asked, his voice low but steady.
Adelric raised his dominant hand and let something drop to the ground. The soft sound of flesh hitting stone echoed ominously. Goblin ears. Severed, still fresh.
The realization hit Snivrack like a hammer. His comrades were dead.
"What do you want?" he asked, knowing the answer wouldn't be in his favour.
"Nothing, I'm afraid. If only you hadn't sneaked up on our conversation earlier. I don't know how much you've overheard about our group's objectives… and I can't risk any failures. Especially not when the mission is only just beginning."
"What conversation? What mission? What the hell are you talking about?" Snivrack took a slow step back, his claws tensing. "Look, just let me --"
Before he could finish, Adelric struck. The dagger plunged into Snivrack's chest with a sickening silence, a precise, practised kill -- swift, efficient, and without a sound.
The goblin's body twitched, his breath hitching, and then all movement ceased. Adelric let the body slump forward against the damp stone. Without wasting a second, he crouched down, searching the goblin's belongings for anything of value.
That was when he found it -- a broken compass. The design was eerily familiar, almost identical to one he had seen in the relic cellar back at the hideout in the capital. His brows furrowed. This wasn't just some random trinket.
He pocketed the item and stood up, leaving Snivrack's lifeless form where it lay. The night would claim the rest.
With fluid movements, he returned to where Ryker and Lucan were still busy bickering over their earlier conversation, oblivious to what had just transpired mere steps away.
"Oh, sir, where did you go? Did something happen?" Ryker asked, blinking in confusion.
Adelric didn't dignify the question with an answer. He merely exhaled in mild exasperation and moved past them. "Hopeless as always, why is it that I always get such useless tag-along all the time..." he muttered under his breath.
The trio continued toward Rukla, the air around them heavy with unseen tensions. As they moved, Lucan asked, "Sir, what about the goblin? The one we found earlier?"
Adelric's voice was devoid of emotion as he replied, "Leave him. He's out cold, and we don't want any unnecessary attention."
The group faded into the darkness of the alleyway, their silhouettes disappearing like ghosts in the city's labyrinth.
***