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That mattered more.

He activated Protocol and Reflection simultaneously.

The world fell away.

The fight replayed in his mind with brutal clarity. Not as mory, but as data. Every fra

slowed, isolated, dissected. Every Aether Step, every Nova Spark, every micro-adjustnt of

space. He saw the monts where his reactions had been optimal—and the monts where

they hadn't.

He analyzed angles.

Timing.

Mana expenditure.

The point where he'd assud the core was singular. The mont that assumption had cost

him ti. The hesitation—brief, but present—when the aura had surged instead of dissipating.

He rewound again.

The cave.

The way the monster had manipulated its body.

Mass. Structure. Conversion.

He focused on the conversion again. The realization that the core hadn't been a command

center but a function. A processor. A node in a larger system. He'd adapted fast, but not fast

enough to prevent the escalation that followed.

He noted it.

Filed it.

Corrected it.

If he encountered sothing similar again, he wouldn't repeat the sa path. He'd identify the

system first. Strip it layer by layer. Cut supply before striking function.

Reflection peeled deeper.

He examined himself this ti.

His reliance on the Seer.

Necessary, but costly.

Protocol had minimized the drain, but not eliminated it. Seeing the future—even in

fragnts—was never cheap. His reserves dipping to sixty percent was proof enough.

That too was unacceptable.

He needed better balance.

Better restraint.

Better sequencing.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer.

No one disturbed him.

They knew better.

When Orion finally opened his eyes, the first thing he registered was Daenys leaning forward,

eyes practically glowing.

"So," she started imdiately, barely containing herself, "how strong was it really?"

He exhaled once, then chuckled quietly.

"That depends on what you compare it to."

That only encouraged her.

She fired questions at him one after another—about its speed, its regeneration, the way it

fought, whether it had patterns, whether it felt smarter than normal monsters, whether it could

have beaten a group instead of him alone.

Orion answered everything.

Not vaguely.

Not dismissively.

He broke it down as clearly as he could, explaining what he'd observed, where it excelled,

where it failed, and why it had been dangerous despite lacking certain traits.

The others joined in.

Arlen asked about the cave and how Orion navigated without sight. Selene focused on the

environntal manipulation. Erevan asked about the core. Caelum wanted to know whether it

was a one-off or sothing systemic.

Orion answered them all.

The scout—still sitting a short distance away—remained quiet, but Orion noticed the way its

ears twitched and its gaze flicked between speakers. Wary. Curious. Processing.

When the questions finally slowed, Orion turned his attention fully to it.

Now it was ti for actual work.

He had no intention of heading to their settlent today.

Not yet.

He could feel the residue of the fight clinging to him—not mana, but intent. Killing intent.

Pressure. The afterimage of violence. Walking into a settlent like that would be

irresponsible. Even if the Sylgrid weren't hostile, they would feel it.

And more importantly—

He wasn't prepared.

He needed information first.

The scout in front of him was the best source available.

Orion's approach changed subtly.

No pressure.

No intimidation.

Just precision.

He started with neutral questions.

"How many of you are there?"

The scout hesitated, then answered. "About five hundred. In our settlent."

"So there are others."

"Yes."

"How many?"

The scout shook its head. "I don't know all. Many. Similar size. So smaller. So larger."

"And one main settlent."

The scout's eyes flickered. "The capital."

That reaction was enough.

Orion didn't press imdiately. He noted the longing there, the way the scout straightened

slightly when it spoke of it. Importance. Authority. Centralization.

He changed topics.

"What do you do? Individually."

The scout's expression dimd.

"I mine."

That was all it said at first.

Orion waited.

"…Jade," the scout added after a mont.

That explained a lot.

"How does that work?" Orion asked, tone neutral.

The scout explained slowly. Jade mining wasn't just labor—it was survival. Jade was their

currency, their trade good, their leverage. Everything they needed ca through it. Food. Tools.

Materials they couldn't produce themselves.

They mined.

They transported.

They exchanged.

Or rather—they used to.

The monster had changed that.

It had taken over one of their primary mining zones months ago. They couldn't kill it. Couldn't

drive it out. Every attempt had cost lives they couldn't afford to lose.

So they stopped mining.

Stopped trading.

Stopped sustaining themselves.

The scout didn't say it outright, but it didn't need to. Its body told the rest of the story. The thin

fra. The worn clothing. The restrained movents.

Starvation wasn't theoretical.

Orion listened without interrupting.

When the scout finished, silence settled briefly.

"So that's why you were watching," Orion said. "Waiting to see if it moved."

"Yes."

"And now?"

The scout looked up at him, sothing like gratitude flickering in its eyes. "Now it's gone."

Orion acknowledged that with a nod.

That likely explained the cooperation. The openness. The lack of resistance.

It didn't matter.

He would have extracted the information either way.

But gratitude made things smoother.

He continued asking.

Routes through the forest.

Territorial boundaries.

Danger zones.

Which settlents were hostile to outsiders.

Which weren't.

Which nas carried weight.

Which mistakes would get soone killed without warning.

So questions the scout could answer.

So it couldn't.

But piece by piece, a frawork ford.

Not a complete map.

But enough.

Enough to move intelligently.

When Orion finally leaned back, exhaling slowly, the picture in his mind was far clearer than it

had been hours ago.

Multiple Sylgrid settlents.

One capital.

Jade as lifeline.

A disrupted supply chain.

Internal weakness.

External pressure.

And now—outsiders had entered the equation.

Chronos outsiders.

He stood.

"Tomorrow," Orion said calmly, "we'll go to your settlent."

The scout stiffened slightly, then nodded.

"Tonight," Orion continued, "we rest. We prepare. And we don't make assumptions."

He looked at his team.

"And we don't act like conquerors."

No one argued.

Orion turned his gaze back toward the forest, mind already working ahead.

Tomorrow, they would step into Sylgrid territory properly.

And from there—

They'd take it one layer at a ti.

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