[Chapter 74. New Gear and a Promise]
Searanox chewed the venison slowly, the rich, gay flavor of the mana-infused at coating his tongue as rendered grease dripped down his chin. He stared into the center of the flickering fire. His eyes moved from the dancing flas to the small stack of raw at resting on a flat stone beside him. It was a ager harvest compared to the size of the beast they had felled, but it was fresh. `Lasts a day, maybe.` He calculated silently, the thought passing through his mind. In this humidity, without proper preservation, the biological spoils of the hunt were a fleeting resource.
"Iris," he said, his voice low and raspy from the smoke. "From now on, they will hunt every day. We will eat fresh at instead of relying solely on my reserves. It is training—for what is coming."
"As you command, Searanox," Iris replied. She did not look at him; her focus remained entirely on the thick piece of at held firmly in her claws. She took another bite, her sharp teeth tearing through the sinewy flesh. The sounds of her eating, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had fallen over the rest of the group.
Searanox wiped his greasy hands on his shirt, the fabric already stained from the grit of the dungeons. He reached into his pocket, he pulled out a simple silver band. It was the minor storage ring he had acquired earlier.
"This is for you," he said, the ring glinting sharply in the firelight. "It may be too small for your sword, but it can hold your rations and other goods." He held the ring out toward her, the tal appearing cold and indifferent against the backdrop of the flas.
Iris took it, her fingers sliding over the simple silver band. The surface was cool against her skin. The ring shimred with a faint, pulse-like glow as she slid it onto her slender finger. It adjusted to her size with a soft, ethereal blue light, the magic molding the tal to fit her perfectly as if it had been forged for her hand alone. She flexed her fingers, testing the weight, though it felt as light as a feather.
Another item materialized in his outstretched hand shortly after: a gold bracer. Its surface was decorated with ornate, embossed waves that seed to shift and flow in the firelight, mimicking the movent of a restless sea.
"This will help you clear dungeons on your own," he said, placing the gold bracer into her waiting paw. The tal was humming with a low-level energy. "It is a rare find. It drains your mana, but in exchange, it will seal your wounds. Do not rely on it too much; it is a safety net, not a replacent for skill."
He watched her examine the piece, her claws tracing the ornate wave patterns with an almost reverent touch. As she moved her arm, the gold caught the light, casting distorted yellow reflections across her fur. Another thought crossed Searanox's mind—a quick calculation of resource allocation versus the absolute necessity of loyalty. To keep an asset like Iris at peak efficiency, he needed to provide more than just basic sustenance.
The next item in his hand was a simple MP ring. Six more appeared in a sequence as he accessed the System Shop, the plain, utilitarian bands providing a stark contrast to the ornate bracer.
"These are more useful than they look at first glance," he noted, his voice flat. "The sa goes for this."
As he spoke, a simple earring materialized in his hand, its understated design. He handed the collection over to her, the tal clinking softly as the items changed hands.
"Keep twenty silver on you at all tis for ergencies," he added, pausing as he considered the volatility of their current environnt. "Never mind. Take thirty, so you can afford at least two mana potions if you find yourself in a desperate situation."
With that, a stack of silver coins appeared in his hand. The tal clinked softly, a bright, rhythmic sound as the coins tipped over and spilled into his palm before he handed them to her.
Vanessa, Carn, Lana, and Sarah had stopped eating entirely. Their gazes were fixed on the gleaming items in Searanox's hands, their eyes wide as they watched the firelight catch the edges of the gold and silver. The gold bracer and the simple rings seed to glow with an inner promise of power and survival—a promise that felt like a clear indictnt of the ager, basic gear they had been given.
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The sheer, unadulterated inequality of the situation settled upon them like a heavy, suffocating weight in the evening air. Vanessa’s fists clenched at her sides, her knuckles turning white as her nails dug deep into her palms. The anger was a hot, roiling thing in her chest. Carn was already calculating the relative value of the items and the strategic advantage they offered Iris. She noted the implications of such blatant favoritism, her dark eyes tracking every movent Searanox made.
Iris accepted the items without a word of protest or excessive thanks, her movents precise and economical. The rings slid onto her fingers, and the earring snapped into place. She tested the feel of the bracer again, her claws tracing the ornate wave patterns while the tal felt cool and solid against her fur.
"I will not fail you, Searanox," she said. The words were asured and even—a promise and a statent of objective fact.
Searanox’s gaze finally shifted to the four won. Their faces were pale in the flickering firelight, their expressions a volatile mixture of envy, resentnt, and deep-seated despair. They looked exhausted, their clothes matted with the blood and gri of the day's training.
"Your gear is temporary," he said, his tone flat and entirely devoid of empathy. "They are tools to learn with, nothing more."
He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle over the clearing. It was a deliberate silence, designed to reinforce their position at the bottom of the hierarchy.
He reached into his storage ring once more and took out an empty to. The leather-bound book was unmarked, its pages blank and crisp. He looked at Vanessa as he held it, his gaze sharp and assessing, as if he were trying to determine if she would ever be capable of filling those pages with spells. He hoped it would be useful for a spellcaster, but he said nothing to encourage her.
He then placed the Mycelial Fang on the floor between them. The rough, Damascus-like surface of the dagger caught the light, and its edge seed to hum with a latent, parasitic potential.
"There would have been one more dagger," he remarked, his voice dropping an octave, "but thanks to soone’s incompetence, it is currently lost at the bottom of a dungeon."
His eyes lingered for a mont too long on Vanessa—a silent, stinging accusation that made her flinch as if she had been struck.
The Wavebreaker shield followed, placed firmly on the ground as his eyes t Lana’s. The shimring surface of the shield reflected the fire, looking like a piece of the ocean frozen in tal.
"You may have these when you have cleared your objective," he stated. "Until then, I will hold on to them."
His gaze lingered on Lana’s trembling hands, making no attempt to hide his appraisal of her current weakness. The wooden shield she clutched seed to shrink under his scrutiny, appearing more like a toy than a piece of armor. Lana looked away, her jaw trembling as she bit her lip to keep from crying.
Carn looked at him, her expression searching. She saw nothing for her among the array of items, no tool to enhance her specific skills.
"Don't look so sad," Searanox said, his voice cold. "I may have nothing for you right now, but I will in the future—if you prove you are worth the investnt."
He then stored all the items back into his ring with a single thought. The only items left were the rings and bracer Iris wore, and the stack of silver coins he had given her.
Carn’s expression remained unreadable, but her gaze sharpened for an instant before she smoothed it over, her face returning to a mask of quiet neutrality. Her dark eyes continued to track Searanox’s movents.
The fire crackled loudly, its warm light casting long, dancing shadows across the stone clearing. The at was gone, leaving behind only the lingering coppery scent of blood that still clung to their clothes and hair. Searanox reached directly into the heart of the fire. The won watched in silent horror as his hand vanished into the white-hot flas. He showed no sign of pain, his expression remaining as stoic as stone. After pulling out a still-burning piece of firewood, he blew out the flickering fla and placed the charred wood into his storage ring.
"I’ll call it a day," he announced. "In the morning, I am taking all of you into a dungeon."
His voice carried no emotion, as if he were simply announcing a routine maintenance appointnt rather than their next life-or-death trial.
With that, he turned and walked back into the atrium of the tower. The warm light of the fire beca a fading mory against the cold, indifferent stone of the structure. His footsteps echoed softly, each rhythmic sound marking their isolation and his departure.
The four won were left alone in the clearing with Iris. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy with unspoken thoughts and the weight of the coming dawn. Sarah’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her basic dagger until her knuckles ached. Vanessa continued to stare into the smoldering embers of the fire, her eyes burning with a mixture of hate and determination. Finally, Lana let her wooden shield drop to the ground with a soft, hollow thud, her shoulders slumping in total defeat as she stared at the spot where Wavebreaker had been.
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