Hunter found himself rooted to the spot, Nic's cryptic reply burning a hole in his brain. Even Monty, the feathered messenger, uncomfortably shifted, glancing between his own talons as if questioning his life choices.

Tower: Is everything okay?

Regret.

Hunter didn't answer. His grip tightening on the parchment as he wrestled with specters from his past. Visions of Nic, drowning his woes in the bottom of a bottle, haunted him. Nights spent on that godforsaken island, woken by the mournful sound of Nic damning the devil's brew.

But the big man never let slip his troubles, sober or pissed as a newt. His secrets were locked up tighter than his aura—a sealed fortress. Even Hunter learning about Nic's Roaming Cultivators Guild membership was a revelation he’d held close for years.

That conversation happened right after he'd discovered the tower and paid Nic a brief visit before stepping foot inside it for the first time. Nic had told him, when fate hands you a golden ticket, you grab it with both hands, or else you're left with a lifetime of regret.

Hunter looked up at Monty. "Thank you for delivering this to me." He offered more seed, but the bird ignored it and fixated on Hunter. "Go on don’t be shy, eat up."

Monty remained rooted to the spot, blinking at Hunter as if waiting for him to spill the beans about Nic's cryptic message.

Hunter pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing it would do something for the pounding headache. "I need to chew on what Nic's trying to tell me. I've got a gut feeling he's being closely watched, and his cryptic message has something to do with me and this tower."

Then Hunter remembered something else. The scroll magistrate Dimus had given Nic with the Filo family crest. That suggested there was a history there between Nic and his Uncle Eratos. Had they served together in the war? It was a question for Nic when he saw him next.

"Sorry, Tower, you asked if I'm okay. I guess I am. But I can't delay. There's too much work to be done in and around here. What's next on our Spartan Sprint agenda?"

Tower: I recommend choosing a tower renovation task. A simple one at the basic repair level.

Hunter nodded. "As long as I have all the supplies.”

Anything that doesn’t involve those slime monsters... ugh.

Monty finally ate the seed cupped in Hunter’s palm. When he finished, he gave Hunter a little bow.

Hunter returned the gesture with a grin.

Tower: The entrance is temporarily open for your friend to leave.

"Thanks, Tower." He gestured to the guild room door. "God speed Monty. I may see you around the city after I complete some repairs. Keep an eye on Jo for me, won't you?"

Monty squawked in agreement, shook out his feathers, and took flight. As soon as the bird was gone, Hunter scanned the list of renovations. His eyes lit up as he picked a task that fit his limited time and resources. "Tower, can you show me where the rickety wooden door hinge is located."

Tower: While there are many door hinges that could use some work, the one that squeals like a banshee is right here in the guild room. It's a cupboard door on that shelving unit where Monty was perched. It used to be part of a decent kitchenette before those ogres took everything.

Hunter raised a brow. "Including the kitchen sink?"

Tower: I am afraid so. A cruel blow, but with your help, this room can become a welcoming space for initiates.

Hunter stole one last glance at the parchment in his hand, Nic's message echoing in his mind.

No regrets.

Hunter shifted his gaze from the bare walls to the shelves that seemed to mourn their own existence. It was a challenge to picture this place in its former glory.

Tower had a point—if he was going to recruit initiates and bring them back here, the least he could do was give them a decent spot to sit, eat, and access running water to wash up.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he strode toward the cupboard door. It was a small task, but it mattered. A step towards restoring Tower to full health, and another notch in his belt as a dual-affinity cultivator aiming to rival his uncle.

Dropping to a squat, Hunter swung the cupboard door open and closed. It groaned like a zombie with a hangover. But it didn't faze him. He'd had plenty of practice keeping Nic's makeshift kitchen from falling apart.

When shit broke down on Death Island, you either fixed it yourself or let it rot.

After a quick assessment, he decided the hinge wasn't too far gone, just in need of a little oiling. He checked the hinge, making sure it wasn't rusted or hanging loose. A bit of lubricant, some elbow grease, and voilà—silence. Standing up, the deep swell of satisfaction surged within, thanks to a simple task well done.

One less thing on the to-do list.

Tower: Thank you. That feels much better. My next task would be to replace the kitchen faucet, but given the kitchenette's current state, it's not entirely accurate to say it is a basic repair.

"Yeah, putting a faucet where there's no sink is a bit of a head-scratcher. Let's save that for later. I'll pick up something I can use as a sink when I’m in the city." Hunter checked his list of needed items.

Crossing his arms, he surveyed the room with a grin. "Now that I've got some extra coin, let's see what I can do to spruce this place up. It might not be a basic task, but it's worth it."

Tower: How kind. In that case, you best leave now. Cultivating on the move gets easier with practice.

"It also cuts down the time I need to refine all that chi from the extra monster cores I looted. No more waiting for a rest break to cultivate in the library. I bet if I check my progression, I'm well on my way to breaking through to the next cultivation level."

The sooner he got there, the better his odds against that final boss.

But first, he had errands to run.

***

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Orcus gave Hunter the once-over, his gaze dripping with the same level of disdain as their last encounter. Hunter swiped the hair from his eyes and forced a tight smirk on his lips. He swaggered up to the counter, locking eyes with the arrogant alchemist in silent challenge.

"Hail, Master Orcus. How are you on this glorious day?"

“Glorious? It’s too hot, it’s always too hot here at this time of year. If it wasn’t for my obligations to this family business, I’d be spending time on Coconut Island.”

Hunter bit back a laugh. The thought of this sourpuss on an island famed for wild parties and free love was downright hilarious.

"Maybe the wind god will send us a cool breeze." Hunter struggled to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Orcus dismissively waved him off, like he was swatting a pesky fly. "Enough pleasantries. What is your business here today? And please don’t lean on the counter with your grubby hands.” He took a step back, eyes glaring with a burning hatred that could melt steel.

Hunter stood tall. "Straight to the point. I like it. No one in this city can rival your goods for quality."

"There’s no need to charm me like a silver-tongued bard. My prices are still the same."

Hunter cleared his throat, rifling through his inventory. He pulled out one of his lesser monster cores and slammed it onto the counter with a resounding thunk.

Orcus's eyes flickered, a twitch of his brow betraying his interest before his face turned to stone again. "What do you call this?"

"A monster core. Not local. Might be a bit more exotic than what you're used to."

The alchemist scowled, snatching up the core. "This is no ordinary monster core. Don’t play me for a fool. The arrogance of youth today, look at you, barely old enough to piss straight."

Hunter shrugged. "Haven't got a clue what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. This isn't from around here nor do such cores exist in nature. As it stands, this core cannot be refined as is. It doesn't contain the usual mana I would expect from a typical monster core or tainted aether if it were a dire beast core." His eyes narrowed with suspicion at Hunter. "Here is a little known fact, especially amongst the ignorant masses. There is only one place these types of chi rich monster cores exist and that is in towers of ascension. Much like the one that magically appeared on the outskirts of our fine city."

“Well, you learn something new every day. How much can you give me for it?”

“Not much. I don’t have the specialist equipment here to refine it. Everything in this city runs on supply and demand, so there is never a need for me to have such expensive and delicate equipment here and risk it being stolen or damaged. However, I do know of a reclusive alchemy master not far from here. He is retired but his stately coastal home is like a museum. Everything he’s amassed in his long life is there, gathering dust, much like him.”

"Thank you for your insights, enlightening this humble adventurer. Could you tell me exactly where he lives? I’d be happy to pay you a finder’s fee.”

Hunter forced out the last part, well aware that nothing came free when dealing with men like Orcus.

A sly grin spread across Orcus's face, making him look like a snake that had just slithered upon a nest of eggs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he placed the monster core on the counter. “I’d be more than happy to tell you where he is. No charge. I’ll even give you a referral letter; you’ll need one. All I ask is a small favor in return. A percentage yield of the refined chi that comes from the monster cores. I take it you’ve got more than one, some that are far better quality than this one I daresay.”

Hunter almost nodded with excitement, but then remembered who he was dealing with—a snake in the long grass. He plastered on a charming grin, playing the fool. “There might be more cores. I’d have to check my inventory. Got a knock on my head, and it hasn’t done my memory much good.”

If he thinks me the fool, I'll act like one.

Everything had a cost, and Hunter had to be careful he wouldn’t pay with his life.

Orcus' fingers tapped the serving counter, his pale skin a stark contrast against the walnut surface. His sickening smile widened into a shit-eating grin. “Don’t try to be clever with me, boy. I served the needs of the Empire when you were nothing but a young pup still shitting in your hands and rubbing it on your face. I know there’s more where that came from. I also know Eratos is keenly interested in the tower. I wonder what he would say if he knew you’d been inside.” He tilted his head forward, an eyebrow raised. “Brave young adventurer.”

Hunter paled. “That’s quite the assumption. You think I was in the tower before anyone else found a way inside. The rumors say it has no entrance the living can see, not even the most powerful cultivators with the keenest senses can find a way inside its stone exterior.”

“Then you stole it; you are a thief. Either way, there is a rich reward for me. Any information I give means nothing without proof. But in your arrogance, you sauntered in here and handed it to me.” Orcus took out a cloth and dabbed his brow, then retrieved parchment from a shelf and began writing. “Lucky for you, I have much more to gain from partnering up with you. Take this note to the master alchemist I mentioned. You'll find him at the Azure Vista. Knock thrice and flash this wax seal before you ruin everything by uttering a single word. Once you're inside, show him your monster cores. Don't be shy—he'll know if you're holding out.” Orcus bared his teeth, making the last part sound like a threat.

Holding firm, Hunter’s pulse raced, amplifying the pounding ache in his head. He held up a hand. "I came here to exchange monster cores for your finest healing elixir. I've got other errands to run before I move on to my next bounty. Can’t this wait until..."

Orcus clucked his tongue. A bottle appeared in his hand. “No! And there is no point in trying to suppress your aura from me. I am not a healer but even I can plainly see you are suffering from some form of affliction. Can’t have you dropping dead on your way to the master alchemist, making you utterly useless to me. This is a decent healing elixir. Sip it! It’s powerful enough to keep you in good health for the task ahead. There is more should you need it. I hope you've got coin because you'll be buying the next one."

Hunter slammed a gold coin onto the counter. "Here, take it. I don't need your charity."

"It isn't charity, never mention that word in my presence it sickens me." Orcus’ eyes lit up at the sight of the gold coin. In a blur, it disappeared. Another bottle appeared in its place. "Here's another healing elixir since you overpaid, and I don't give change. Do we have a deal?"

Hunter snorted. "As if I have a choice."

Orcus snapped his fingers in Hunter’s face. “You have until nightfall to reach Master Agathos. Your other errands are your problem, not mine. Be gone. The master alchemist will tell you what you should do next, once you are there.”

Hunter gritted his teeth behind the smile. “You drive a hard bargain. Seems like it’s an offer I can’t refuse.” He backed away with caution, refusing to lower his gaze first.

“Always a pleasure doing business with fresh blood." Orcus shifted without a second glance, turning his back to fiddle with an array of vibrant-colored bottles.

A cold dread settled in Hunter's gut as he stepped out into the narrow alley. He felt cornered, a rat in a trap.

Hunter sighed as he glanced down at the note in his hand, the address of this so-called master alchemist scrawled in Orcus' messy handwriting. Going straight there without a backup plan was a bad idea. But he still had time—the sun was just beginning its descent.

As the city's vibrant day surrendered to the lengthening shadows, Hunter confronted a harsh reality. He understood one undeniable truth. His moves had to be strategic. Anything less and he or his sister risked becoming another forgotten soul in the cutthroat underworld of Delphare. Time slipped away, each passing moment intensifying the urgency of his decisions.

The tangled city streets sprawled out like a maze. The air hung heavy with grime and desperation, clinging to Hunter's skin like a second layer.

Moving through the alleyways, a chilling sensation crawled up his spine. It was the feeling of being watched—of being hunted. His instincts kicked in, senses heightened, nerves on high alert. He slowed his pace, his eyes scanning the surroundings with predatory precision.

He sensed a presence nearby—another cultivator. Their aura pulsed in the air, a beacon in the grimy darkness. Was this intentional? Were they playing a game of cat and mouse, using their aura as bait?

Hunter wasn't about to be the mouse! If they sought confrontation, he'd give it to them—but on his terms.

Beneath the stench of rot and waste, a faint scent of Buckfast Tonic Wine lingered. Hunter trailed it, his heart pounding a relentless rhythm in his chest.

He rounded a corner, coming face-to-face with a shadowy figure. Their aura vibrated with raw power.

"Show yourself!" Hunter growled, the echo of his voice bouncing off the grimy walls. "Let's see who's got the guts to stalk me."

He cycled chi letting the energy flood into his limbs, bracing for an attack. Hunter was a fighter who didn’t back down.

If this was one of Xuthos’ or Vasillus’ goons it was time to remind them of that.