“I still have the fragnt, and I'm willing to trade it. Anyone want to make an offer?”
Standing apart, Rohan's eyes widened as he heard the bombshell dropped by the smiling Homo Elysian. He's insane!
Micro helped him master his surprise before Priam could notice. The young master had read the diary of Aelbes, the Champion who founded his tribe. According to him, all Champions were geniuses in their own right, but few truly understood the dynamics of their new universe.
For a prodigy driven by the System, the notion that a warrior could be stalled in their ascent to the Zenith was bizarre. Yet, it was a reality when climbing through the Tiers.
“I'm not sure discussing this here is a good idea,” Ophis grimaced, stretching his hands toward the campfire. “I have much to offer, but I'm afraid revealing my tribe's treasures will only spark jealousy.”
“Pah!” Gryphe spat on the fur rug, earning and ignoring a dark glare from Braato. “As if we’d be the ones to steal from you. You might not be as powerful as a dragon, but you're just as greedy.”
“There is only one fragnt, and several of you,” Priam cut in before the situation could escalate. “An auction is the best way for to get a fair deal.”
Rohan nodded almost imperceptibly. A ruthless Tier 4 with a silver tongue could convince the Champion to hand over the fulcrum. Uncle Felix could make him believe he was doing him a favor by taking it.
Priam was banking on the presence of rival tribes to keep each other in check. As expected, the young Champion wasn’t just strong; he was also smart.
“What are you looking for?” Mama Apo asked, pouring herself another glass.
“First, an answer: why does this fragnt interest you?”
Gryphe exchanged a furtive glance with Ophis, then sought Mama Apo's gaze. By downplaying the fragnt's importance, they could drive its price down and...
“Whatever Story a Tier 5 seeks to write, they all share one thing: an internal world. The symbolic core of this world, the fulcrum, can help a Tier 4 lay the foundations of their own world. Since few Tier 5s agree to part with their fulcrum intact, a fragnt is the next best thing, enabling a Tier 4 to survive their High Tribulation.”
Rohan held back, but Gryphe and Ophis shot Braato a murderous look. What ga was the Gaeserts' leader playing?
“Thank you,” Priam replied, inclining his head slightly. “What I seek is to increase our strength before facing our Tribulations. Ideal upgrades are our priority, but rare resources that can boost a bloodline or our aether proficiency are also of interest.”
Rohan nearly laughed, realizing Priam wasn't bluffing. He genuinely planned to bleed the tribes dry.
“Is this a joke? Do you want to sleep with while you're at it?!” Gryphe exclaid.
“Not really, no,” the insolent youth replied, eyeing the old shaman's body.
“Impertinent! When I was young and my breasts were firr, you would have—”
“What Gryphe ans,” Ophis interrupted, “is that you're asking for our tribes' secrets. My ancestors would roll in their graves if I sold their secrets.”
“No worry, I doubt the Necromoon left them there,” mocked the pretty young woman behind Priam.
Rohan pressed his lips together. Their ancestors had given their lives for the tribe, and mocking their sacrifice was not honorable.
“Jasmine, please,” Priam grimaced before continuing. “The fate of the living is more important than that of the dead. You reaching Tier 5 seems essential, especially with the necro event.”
“A fragnt eases things, but it's far from a guarantee,” Braato grumbled.
“It's not a guarantee, but it's hope. For so, that's almost the sa.”
Silence fell over the tent as the Tier 4s pondered. Rohan knew better than anyone that in this camp, only Leo, his father, had a real shot at reaching Tier 5. However, the Champion was right: the fragnt gave the others hope. When dreams of grandeur had a chance to materialize, even the pragmatic would falter.
“[Stealth] or [Molt].”
Ophis cracked first, and the young master sighed, turning to Gryphe. The old woman nodded.
“[Dark Vision] or [Art of Movent],” Rohan proposed, not so much to help his father but to block Ophis' path. Despite his draconic bloodline, Ophis remained a snake. All signs pointed to him having little chance of Tiering up, but maybe he was hiding his true potential...
“If there's one fragnt, there will be more once we kill the Fallen,” Braato declared, picking his nose. He flicked the bogey into the fire, which crackled.
Unless the Fallen decides to destroy them all.
Mama Apo remained silent. People often called the Aelbes vain, but the Gaeserts' stubbornness was legendary.
Priam nodded. “I understand. What is the purpose of [Molt]?”
“The common skill allows for shedding skin and accelerating growth. At the rare rank, it purges so received poisons. At the epic rank, the ideal upgrade can cleanse certain infections from enemy Concepts,” Ophis explained in a very neutral tone. The Tier 4 was clearly annoyed. “It's an excellent skill for recovering from tough battles.”
Rohan held back from nodding. How many warriors had died from cursed wounds after winning a fight?
“I see. What about [Dark Vision]?”
“Thermal vision, then total darkness. At the epic rank, it lets you see who is watching you. Not sense, but see,” Rohan insisted. The skill was powerful but had its flaws, which was why he proposed it.
“Watching physically or magically?”
Rohan allowed himself a slight smile. The Champion hadn't yet grasped how skill rarity worked.
“Physically. Epic skills have only one effect at level one. As you level up, you can choose to dilute their power to add a second effect—like detecting magical or indirect observations.”
That wasn't the enhancent he had chosen.
Priam nodded and lowered his gaze to the campfire, deep in thought.
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