Until sunset later that night, I circulated my heart energy and further refined my core in the solitude of my chosen bedchambers. I hadn’t had an opportunity to do so since breaking through to the Silver tier. I needed to spend some time solidifying my entry into the higher realm before I’d be able to access the full capacity of my Core.
Curtis had led Nida and me to a pair of adjacent rooms, both sparsely furnished with luxurious furniture. I hadn’t bothered to take a close look at her chambers, but mine seemed to be more of a guest room than anything else. There was no greeting area, only enough space for a single ornate bed and a desk. It was somewhat similar to the room I’d used at the Silverwater Estate, minus the mold and general dilapidation.
I sat cross-legged on the bed of thin silver silk as I directed heart energy through my meridians, cleansing them of any remaining impurities I could find. Now that I had reached the Silver tier, my inner strength would grow exponentially, increasing the fluidity of my heart energy so that I’d be able to rely on long-range attacks with greater ease and worry less about running out of stored energy. With each heart ring I created using my Silver Core, I would not only continually improve the flow of energy but also raise the capacity of energy I could maintain within my Core.
Once I refined my Core to Gold, I would be able to begin developing my physical resistances and immunities by fusing my heart energy with my physical body, rather than just the Core and meridians. Back in Ordite, the standard Awakener had their Core progression halted around the Gold level. It required an enormous amount of monster cores and battle experience to evolve one’s Core to Platinum, and the requirements to reach beyond Platinum could rarely be met by anyone outside a family of great wealth with powerful bloodlines. That reminded me that I still needed to teach the remaining Paragons and former slaves how to cultivate. If I was going to grow my authority enough to gain access to the requirements needed to achieve higher realms, I would need a personal force with substantial power of its own.
A sudden, heavy knock on my door yanked me from my thoughts. Before I could say anything, the door was pushed open. I slowly opened my eyes to watch the two enter but didn’t unfold my legs. Dralos strode in, his yellow-black diamond eyes appraising my new room with almost more disdain than I’d viewed Lilliana’s original room. His slaver uniform was long gone, replaced by well-crafted black trousers and a white collar shirt. Chella dragged her feet behind him, her eyes never leaving the floor. Deep black circles of sleepless nights and nightmares ringed the half-giantess’ eyes. She wore clothes similar to Dralos, only distinguishable by a symbol on her chest of a shield embedded with two crossed swords and a bow, and the gray satchel strapped across her shoulder.
“Close the door,” I ordered, and Dralos complied. I waited for the gentle click of a lock before speaking again. “Chella, the prism.” It wasn’t a question and she knew it. The woman kept her lips pursed in silence and reached into her satchel to remove a brilliant verdant green prismatic jewel that fit in the center of my palm as she handed it to me. There was some sort of inscription within, but I couldn’t read it.
Something red flashed, and I was once again reminded of my eternal companion.
[SYSTEM ANNOUNCEMENT: Congratulations! You have obtained an artifact of the Main System: Slave Marker.]
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: Override previous Main System influence and convert the Slave Marker to the Desire System?]
[YES] / [NO]
I hit [Yes] and was rewarded by a blinding flash of red. I didn’t have enough time to even raise my guard before the light abated, sinking back to the prism which now pulsated with a dark shade of red.
[SYSTEM MESSAGE: Conversion of artifact Slave Marker successful. Marked Slaves will now be bound to the Host.]
Perfect. I bounced the prism in the air before stuffing it into the pocket of my mercenary uniform. “Dralos?”
“My Queen,” he said, kneeling and offering me a perfect black sphere. Veins protruded from his forearm as he reached out with the sphere, seeming to struggle to maintain the posture. I understood when I took it from him and a massive amount of weight bore down on me. It was as if the sheer magnitude of power within Orpheus’ Core increased the gravity of anything it touched.
“It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a progenitor’s Core,” I muttered, rotating the power source. The black within seemed to almost move, shifting like smoke whenever I turned the sphere. I couldn’t sense even a fragment of heart energy within the Core despite knowing there was enough in the sphere to overwhelm my own core a hundred times over. Any attempt at absorbing the progenitor’s core needed to be done with extreme caution. If possible, I would prefer not to use it until I’d created my second heart right with a gold-level core at the very least. The value of the Core would only increase as I progressed through the ranks and required higher-quality energy to help speed my cultivation.
“You’ve… seen one before?” Chella asked, raising her eyes slightly.
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“Forget I said anything. How much did you tell Duke Alistar?” I said, waving away her question. I glanced around the room for somewhere to put the sphere since I was fairly sure it would rip through whatever pocket or satchel I tried to put it in. When I didn’t find it anywhere at first glance, I decided it would likely be best to keep holding onto it. For all I knew it might go through the floor if I released my hold on it. I had no idea how its pressure functioned.
“He is my Lord and my master,” Chella responded simply. “I told him everything I know.”
“Did you tell him about the Slave Marker?”
The giantess hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. “No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Why not?” I pressed, quirking an eyebrow.
She hesitated again, longer this time. “I-I don’t know.”
I could see the lie in her eyes. She knew exactly why she didn’t tell the Duke about the Slave Marker. It was fear. Other than Dralos, only Chella had known me since before the Slave Arena. She had been witness to my meteoric growth in both influence and raw power. And she was right. If Chella had told the Duke about the Slave Marker, I likely would have killed her or turned her into a Resurrected follower the same as Dralos.
“It was a good choice,” I said with a smirk and finally stood from my cross-legged position, reaching up to pat the giantess’ broad shoulder. Her posture visibly softened at my words, and I couldn't help but crack a half smile. Perhaps she would be more useful than I’d originally believed. “Chella, do you know the way to the Duke’s prisoners? I need to speak with the city guards that were captured. I planned to ask Duke Alistar for his permission earlier as a showing of good faith, but the flow of the conversation didn’t seem like that was going to be a possibility.”
She nodded. “I do indeed know the way, my lady.”
“Good.” I headed toward the door, unlocking the latch. Before I opened it, I turned back to Dralos. “You did well. The effect was much more widespread than I’d calculated, but the result was the same.” The draconian nodded but didn’t say anything as we exited the room.
I took a slight detour beforehand to Nida’s bedchamber, banging on her door until the warrior answered with a tired yawn, silver hair askew. “My que- my lady?”
“Get dressed, Nida.”
“Okay.” She disappeared into her room for a moment and then came back out in a mercenary uniform that matched my own with a sly grin. “I got this from Curtis. Doesn’t it look like we’re on the same team now?”
“We are on the same team.”
“Yeah, but now it looks like it, too.”
I rolled my eyes but let it go, gesturing for Chella to lead the way. Nida didn’t ask where she was taking us, and I didn’t inform her, so our small group traversed the city lord’s rather sizable estate. After we took a fifth turn, I realized Chella was likely leading us around posted guards and I stopped her. “Chella, enough. I did not ask you to lead us around the Duke’s guards. Take me there using the shortest route.”
“But the guar-”
“Let me worry about that. It is not for you to concern yourself with.”
To her credit, Chella didn’t hesitate this time and quickly turned toward the main set of stairs I’d used to access the Duke’s office earlier. We descended to the ground floor, and Chella was leading us deeper into the estate when we were stopped by the first guard.
“This is a restricted area,” the man said, his eyes narrowed as he looked our group over with clear distaste. “None of you have access.” He scowled at Chella. “Especially you, spy. What are you even doing her-“
I didn’t wait for him to finish. Within seconds, I’d withdrawn my dagger from its sheath at my hip and thrust it into the guard’s neck. The blade cut easily through his flesh until only the hilt remained clean. Blood splattered onto my face in small bursts at first, then spilled out in a flood as I pulled the dagger out with a horrendous squelch.
Chella looked away as the soldier dropped and began to convulse, her face flush with anger and shame no doubt directed at her own cowardice or weakness. I believed she did care for the Duke, but above all, she was like most others and valued her life above all else.
“You could have just made him a slave,” she whispered. “At least his life would have been spared.”
“No. Physical evidence of another master is a quick way to end up in the gallows,” I responded, recalling the crescent moon shape that came with being a Paragon and the mark of slavery, squatting next to the soon-to-be corpse as he choked on the blood gushing within his lungs. “Better to simply bind his existence.” I ended his suffering with a swift plunge of my bloody dagger into his heart. No need to make him die a slow death.
I waited only a second before the white-orange flicker of the guard’s soul rose from his body, hovering just over the pieces of his heart. With a force of will, I summoned my Soul Weaver attributed heart energy, commanding it to reach out to the soul and embed it with the power of Resurrection.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Host’s Soul Weaver attributed energy has been fully diverged from the main system. Resurrection of the dead will now draw more forcefully from the Nothingness, no longer relying solely on the soul’s desire to return. The Desire System will provide the Desire to the desired individual.]
I wanted to ask what that meant, but the opportunity passed in the blink of an eye as the soul flame shot back into the guard’s body, and he shot up with a gasp. He looked around, wide-eyed and confused for only a brief moment before the same blackness I’d seen from Dralos consumed the guard’s eyes. Though, unlike Dralos, his eyes were only partly covered in the veil of darkness, leaving the blue of his irises unblemished.
His head snapped toward mine, and he scrambled to kneel before me with more grace than I thought the guard would have. His knee slammed into a puddle of his own blood with a thud that sounded painful, but he didn’t so much as wince.
“My Queen. I am Dustin Augustus, at your command.”
“Stay at your post. You are to let us through and back out later, but other than that, you must continue to maintain the same personality and duty that you had before being Resurrected. Unless or until I tell you otherwise, those are your continuing orders.” I paused, remembering my previous discussion with Dralos. “Do you still have enough memories remaining to do that?”
“I do, my Queen. I am armed with relevant information pertaining to my duty and your commands.”
I was about to press him for more information, but Dralos stepped forward. “My Queen, he cannot tell you more just yet. If he were to, his soul may likely be pulled back into the Nothingness.”
More questions. I pressed my lips together and narrowed my eyes at Dralos to see through his stoic facade. After a moment and sensing nothing from the draconian’s void expression, I shrugged. “That’s fine. You have your orders, soldier. And clean up the mess.” I eyed his bloody uniform. "And get some new clothes."
The guard, Dustin, saluted by placing his right fist over his heart and pressing his left fist to his right elbow. I nearly gasped in surprise at the Aedronir salute. What in Ashwash’s blessed name was going on? Still reeling and attempting to recover from the shock, I shook my head and did the only thing I could do in that situation: I kept walking. I strode past Dustin, numb and mind whirling a million miles an hour, to catch up with Chella who had already made her way down the hall.