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Shades of Perception
Chapter 208 - Before The Descent

Chapter 208 - Before The Descent

Chapter 208 - Before The Descent

Lucian scribbled the pen on the parchment with a focus so intense it seemed like he would burn a hole through it. After another minute of these noises, he nodded.

Exhaling deeply, a satisfied smile blossomed on his face as he picked up the notebook and turned it towards Vern, "See? I can do this, too."

Vern looked at the scribbles in terrible handwriting, squinting hard to figure out what the hellish glyphs were attempting to portray. Before long, he concluded with a sharp tone, "This is garbage."

Lucian blinked, his smile faltering as he flipped the notebook back to himself, his gaze alternating between his solution to the equation and Vern.

"You totally ignored two of the variables, the factorization is straight-up incorrect, and you've not converted the units anywhere. Again."

Lucian opened his mouth to say something but didn't and instead resorted to scratching his hair with the butt of his pen. "I don't know, man. Looks right to me. You sure you aren't overcomplicating it?"

Vern shook his head, "Did you actually complete all six years of mandated education or just paid someone to write the exams for you?"

Lucian pulled the notepad down and exclaimed, "Wait! I could have done that?"

"..." Vern deeply considered whether it was worth trying to explain triangulation to Lucian once again.

"Bahh, I don't need this." Lucian waved the book before crying, "Let's not bother with these overcomplicated methods. You do the triangle pattern thing, and I'll just use my intuition to communicate with the vermin. Let's see who gets better results, okay?"

Lord Osric had asked Professor Carter to give special attention to Lucian in hopes that he wouldn't just be a backup on the mission. Unfortunately, Lucian's aptitude for math was as great as a fish's for climbing trees—at least when it came to Professor's special techniques. However, his intuition game was on point.

Where Vern only managed to pick up on nuances of vermin's suggestions after repeated practice, Lucian just felt it right from the get-go. A clear example of differing viewpoints leading to varied strengths and weaknesses.

Vern shrugged, "How about we bet? Five crowns?"

Lucian rubbed his hands together, "Now we're getting somewhere. But how do we decide who wins—"

Swishhh!

Suddenly, his relaxed demeanor evaporated as reeling noises echoed all around them, and he stood taller. Vern followed suit, and before long, the source of all these sounds appeared before them.

Thump. Tap. Slam.

Silhouettes landed on the roofs of buildings around them one after another, bathing in the white glow of the moon behind them.

"It's time," he murmured as both of them nodded to each other before heading to meet the newcomers. They trotted down the otherwise barren street in the direction opposite to the bridge.

They'd been waiting out here for a while. This was the east border of Seraphim Square, one which was directly connected to Crescent Bay.

Swoosh!

The whole fleet landed in front of them in rapid succession. Vern counted a total of eight, three of which seemed to be women. The whole group, with their leather outfits, exquisite gear, and serious expressions, exuded a rugged aura. Vern of last month would be shivering in his boots right about now.

But now?

He was probably just as powerful, if not more, than most of them. After all, this group was composed of lower infusion elites that wouldn't be noticed by the entity in the bay.

With that in mind, no one bowed. Vern wanted to, but Lucian had warned him against it, reasoning that it would make them look down on him. So, a simple nod of acknowledgment passed between Lucian and the rest.

Vern copied him with a stoic nod of his own.

.

.

.

No one responded. They didn't even turn to look at him.

Kinda rude…, Vern thought.

Maybe noticing this, Lucian spoke up, "This is my colleague from the Vigil. He's now a blood brother, too, having infused himself with the old blood just this morning. He'll be leading the exploration as per Professor Carter's plan."

All the eyes suddenly turned towards him, full of…vigilance and…suspicion?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

That's when, "Tch! You want us to follow a greenhorn? What a joke."

"Hehh," scoffed another, "Hasn't even had the blood in him for a day, and he wants to be the leader? I don't want to babysit someone who's not even learned to control his thirst for the blood."

Well, that's surprising. He wasn't expecting this sort of 'welcome' by his 'blood brothers and sisters.'

This elicited more to join in, "What was the court thinking? We're already going to be in so much danger, but now we have to deal with this, too?"

One of the women who had thin painted eyebrows and a pointed nose also chimed in, "It's obviously because of the Eclipsed Reaper. She accuses others of nepotism while she does it herself."

Vern squinted. He didn't like where this was going. It was one thing to be distrustful of him but completely another to slander Mistress Amelia.

Their not wanting to deal with a possibly ticking time bomb in a dangerous environment was understandable. But this…? Even Lucian's gaze turned frosty at that last comment.

Despite their glare, however, the woman continued, "Clearly, she's taken a liking to her new boy toy—"

"Enough!" interrupted the one in the center of the group just an instant before Vern lost his cool. He believed in mutual respect, but when none was given to him, he was more than happy to return the favor.

He wasn't about to stand and let them walk all over him just because they were in a group of eight. He had his methods.

"Don't be insolent." Began the man in the center with a gaunt face, sporting a sharp goatee. "Eclipsed Reaper is not someone you can condone. Even if she practices favoritism, you are nobody to question her. Shut up and focus on the task at hand."

"Ye—yes, sir Haytham." she stammered back before looking down.

This Haytham person then turned towards Vern and spoke, "You do your job, we'll do ours. As long as you're not a liability, it doesn't matter how you earned your infusions."

He didn't like this guy's tone and implications. Fortunately for these people, he had better things to do in life than being offended by the ignorant. The way things stood, these people were replaceable for this mission while he wasn't.

It earned him a certain leverage which he could use to put the group in their place. However, he shook his head. This is childish. The whole city's fate was at stake here. He wasn't about to start a scene here simply because they mocked him based on their petty assumptions. There was no reason to act extremely. Compromise was also a notion of balance, after all.

Once he rationalized it, words came easy to him. "Sure," he uttered before turning and leading the way towards the bridge.

Lucian walked next to him, his eyes betraying a hint of anger. Vern signaled him to relax, which seemed to confuse the man instead.

In no time, however, the entourage reached the middle of this deserted bridge. Up above the bridge's arch stood another figure, covered in black wrappings from head to toe. An older generation of ignition blades hung by their waist while some custom gear circled their arms.

With a sudden rush of air, the figure disappeared from its original spot and emerged right in front of them, blocking their path forward. Without a moment's hesitation, the whole group of ten people, including Vern and Lucian, bowed, "Greetings, Lady Ernes," they echoed in unison.

The head covered in wrappings nodded before asking in a disturbingly chilly voice, "Are the preparations complete?"

Haytham cut Lucian off, who was about to answer, "Yes, milady. Rubel here has learned to speak with the seeker's vermin with finesse. We obviously don't mind having outsider support, but they won't be necessary for this mission."

"Who…" she trailed off.

"Who…?" Haytham repeated, respectful but confident as he soon added with a thump on his chest, "Milady, if you mean to ask who'll lead this mission, that'll be me. I might have only digested the second infusion on paper, but I'm considered on par with the third infusion in real life."

"Who…" she repeated, her voice sharp and cutting, "Who do you think you are to decide what the court deems necessary and what it does not?"

"I—Milady, I—," stammered Haytham, sweating in this cold weather as he tried to scrounge up an excuse.

"That's what I thought. So don’t play the fool—stick to your orders. The three hybrids will lead the exploration. Your task is simple—support them in hunting down the source of plague with everything you’ve got and ensure they come back with an answer, no matter the cost."

"Y—yes, Milady. Your command will be executed to perfection."

Then the crimson iris peeking through the wrappings shifted towards Vern, "As for you…"

With those simple words, a cold sensation washed over his mind, turning into a heavy pressure that made it hard to breathe. It was the same feeling as when Lord Osric had tested him and Lucian on their first meeting, but a lot milder, almost as if it was unintentional.

"Be wary," she murmured, her piercing gaze unyielding. "Amelia bid me to aid you should the worst come to pass, but within that accursed place, you're beyond my reach. If the Hunt turns against you, flee to me. Whatever emerges, I’ll take care of it."

Vern sighed, I might not have seen Mistress for a while, but she's really looking out for me. "Thank you, Lady Ernes," he responded. "I'll keep that in mind."

She tilted her head towards Lucian, "Same goes for you."

"Thank you, thank you, milady. I'll never forget this favor. I'll—"

"Go now, hunters. The night of the hunt is upon us. Return before the first light of dawn, or not at all."

Such a blessing would generally be quite odd, but it was tailored for this situation. Inside Crescent Bay, mornings were apparently scarier than nights for reasons unknown.

This instantly killed the otherwise unstoppable momentum of those behind him. A hint of hesitation became apparent on some of the faces, while some outright stopped in their tracks.

Vern, however, had long readied himself mentally. He was as prepared as he could be. His arsenal had Duality, a vapor blaster, pages of convergence note, an insight sphere filled with spare flux, and finally his mirror amulet.

It was essentially everything of import he'd amassed over time. If he struggled even with all these artifacts and techniques at his disposal, then there wasn't much else to be done.

If everything was prepared, then why would he hesitate? He'd done that enough throughout the process. Now was the time for action.

So he bowed towards the wrapped figure one more time before zooming past her to the other end of the bridge.

Lucian matched his step whereas a loud command of "Let's go!" was required from Haytham to get the troupe moving as he followed up, "We can't let these newcomers run to their deaths."

Vern shook his head and stared dead ahead. Beyond the bridge, a nightmare stirred—full of crimson haze that hid more than it revealed.