[Crisis Management] seemed to be past its limits, or maybe it was less effective the longer one relied on it… she wasn’t sure. She certainly wasn’t going to pulse [Power] into it, not when the effects were so numbing it turned the world into a haze.
She’d actually unslotted it in favor of [Presence Concealment], so when she did especially need it, the effects would be more effective without the problems that came with it.
The entire day before had been spent preparing, gathering gear, and ensuring she was as ready as she could be. Packing Yolani’s tools along with healing potions and then fitting all of their spare mana shards into a leather band had allowed her not to think about things.
Elania cinched and tied it around her upper arm. She had considered turning it into a collar or necklace but didn’t want it to be visible, so those ideas had been discarded.
None of the mana shards were super-high quality, but altogether there were enough of them that they would more than double her total power capacity. Making sure they were all filled to the brim had been a lot of work and required a lot of chicken snacks, thankfully her new [Soul Management] perk prevented any side effects.
If the Magisters wanted their golden goose to lay more eggs, they needed to prioritize resolving her issues.
The workbench in front of her held the last set of items: the firearm Yolani had made for her, the two round drum magazines plus two more—she’d worked for several hours to finish the extra round drums. She’d almost given up—it had been Yolani that had made the working ones—but there were enough schematics and such that she’d been able to figure it out.
A brace of healing potions that had been stashed away in the bottom of a cabinet for emergencies, and her [Vorpal Dagger] that glowed crimson when held under a certain light. The amount of usage and channeling of [Power] through it in fights had worn away whatever rapid poison death magic it had once held, but it was still sharper and more durable than steel.
Whatever disguises they ended up wearing, she was really counting on them to be able to conceal everything.
She checked it all over before sliding the gun into a holster that went around her waist. The magazines went into a large pouch on her other side. Not having to worry about reloading crystals and whatnot made things much simpler.
A few food rations went into her potion pack. They were hardened bars of bread, and weren’t really anything to write home about, and she didn’t really even need to eat anything, but if Yolani or Henri needed them…
Okay, well, maybe it was just extra stuff she didn’t need. Food rations probably weren’t critical, but she packed them anyway. They were almost hard enough to hit someone with, in any case.
As she tied the packs closed, she shook her head and pushed away the melancholy. She couldn’t be distracted by her emotions—she needed to save her friends.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. She straightened up, and pulled on her belt and made sure the pouches and bags were firmly attached. Her hand went instinctively to her [Vorpal Dagger] as she pulled the shop’s front door open.
She nodded to Gaston, who was flanked by two men. All three of their faces were etched with the same seriousness that had been present since they’d learned of the kidnappings.
“Are you prepared?” Gaston asked, his voice low.
Elania met his gaze, her own eyes hardening with resolve. “I’m ready. Let’s go get them back.”
The streets were quiet, despite being in the middle of the day. When they reached the Conclave District, things had picked up, but even the market bazaar’s enthusiasm was muted. Half the once vibrant stalls were empty, and the chatter of merchants and energy of children running amok was gone.
Gaston led them to an inn that seemed to cater to a more discerning clientele, its façade adorned with ornate symbols. The innkeeper waved them by as they made their way up to the second floor and into a bare meeting room that only held a table and some wooden chairs.
“I’ll be waiting downstairs for our contact, but you should stay here and keep out of sight,” Gaston said.
She nodded, agreeing that was probably for the best. Even with her [Presence Concealment] it would just take one good use of [Identify] to betray her race. Gaston had assured her it wouldn’t be a problem, but she was still waiting for an explanation for that.
The other two guards took up seats at the table and pulled out a deck of cards as soon as Gaston was gone. One man looked at her appraisingly. “Care to join?”
Elania shook her head and grabbed one of the chairs, dragging it toward one of the windows. “Sorry, I don’t think I could focus on a game.”
“Suit yourself, lass. But waiting can be worse than the action if ye dwell on it,” the man replied.
She didn’t think he was wrong, but watching the bazaar through the cloudy glass would give her enough solace, and she didn’t really feel like socializing.
The wait was agonizing, each tick of her HUD clock stretching longer than the last. The muted life of the bazaar below made a suitable backdrop for her mind to run around with everything that could go wrong. Or worse, what had already gone wrong that she couldn’t do anything about. What if they had…
No, it was best not to think of that possibility.
Time continued to pass. After the two guards finished a few games, there was a knock at the door before it creaked open. Gaston entered with a man clad in a large gray robe that resembled the garb the Conclave monks favored. His head was shaved, and his eyes held a quiet intensity.
She glanced at Gaston and wondered just how much they could trust the man that was going to betray his fellow monks.
[Spiritual Monk – Human – Level 142]
He moved to the table and set out a bundle of gray robes that resembled his own. That was good news. If they had been wearing the battle garb she’d seen Taniel wearing, it would have been hard to conceal her stuff, but with this…
Gaston detailed the plan to get inside the fortress as they donned the disguises. Elania listened intently, committing things to memory, but there was one thing she didn’t like.
“Can you draw us a map?” she asked the monk. “It would help visualize our path.”
He shook his head. “I know the way well enough, but I’ve nothing to draw with.”
A small smile appeared on her face as she pulled out a rolled piece of parchment and drafting pencil from a pack. “Will this do?”
The monk accepted with a nod and began to sketch what looked like a top-down overview of the inside of the fortress. He drew a line through the turns they’d take. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of multiple checkpoints marked along the route.
“It’s deep inside, with no side exits or alternative paths,” he explained. “The checkpoints will be our biggest problem—each one is guarded by monks who will be more skeptical of our presence as we get deeper.”
“It doesn’t look like there are any other ways out?” Elania asked.
He frowned. “There’s only one way out—the same way we got in. We’ll have to fight.”
“Once we have Yolani and Henri, I can always make a new way out.” Elania said, tracking her finger right through the side of the drawn wall.
Gaston gave her a look of worry. “We brought sleeping stones for the exit.”
“Yeah, well… we’ll try those first, of course,” Elania agreed. But in her experience, things never went to plan.
Which was why she had brought a dozen extra gadgets to blow the monks up with if needed.