Chapter 117: Why not make it official?
"What do you mean by improving our cultivation?" Lincoln asked, dropping to a knee and scooping up a thick pile of Earthen Mole hide. "Are you saying we should try to advance before we go into that trial realm?"
The fire at the centre of the camp popped, wood crackling as black smoke rose before shimmering out until nothing was left—the sanctuary working its magic.
"I believe if we're stuck at the same level before going into the realm, we risk being exposed to more danger," Hector said, his gaze drifting to Mirae, Harry, and Pippa. The three of them sparred, occasionally looking over.
Hector's gaze shifted back to Jodie. "And from the look on your face earlier, you must've improved quite a bit."
Jodie nodded, resting a hand on her hip as her eyes followed Lincoln's movements. "I have. I think I am closing in on Gravity-Forging-Three. In a few more months, I should be able to reach the boundary, then break through."
Hector brought a hand to his lips. A few more months. Would they be able to speed that up by staying in the cave where the door was located? Perhaps. The mana there was almost double what it was just ambiently, but that still didn't mean there wouldn't be problems.
I'd need to figure out a way to keep the [Gentle Sanctuary] active for Harry so that the curse doesn't overtake him. We could move to the cave, but that would put us further away, complicating the logistics of the Hairless Rat trade.
Lincoln trudged forward, footsteps echoing off the stone as his body shimmered through the [Gentle Sanctuary] dome before exiting through the cave entrance. A pang of worry slithered through Hector's chest. His fingers twitched slightly at his side.
"Are you really planning on holding a grudge against him forever?" Hector asked, his chest falling as he exhaled. He turned to Jodie, levelling a questioning gaze at her. "The trial realm is coming up, and I need us all to work together."
Jodie rolled her eyes. She picked up one of the Earthen Mole claws, running a finger across the almost-white bone.
Shaking her head, she sighed. "Hector, you've said this to me before, and I explained it to you. While I don't trust Lincoln and I think he's a sleazy dirtbag, I won't make things difficult for us. I know how important this is, and I know where my priorities are. You can trust me."
Hector nodded. Turning, Hector rested against the butchering table, the wood biting into the bottom of his spine. Not his best work by far. A rushed job, if anything, but Mrs. Strongmail got her use out of it.
He frowned, his gaze drifting around the cavern. Dull blue light filled the space, interlaced with the flickering red from the campfire. A warm, comfortable breeze brushed against his skin. It would be perfect if they weren't still fighting to survive. Almost like a small camping trip.
By the entrance, Lincoln stepped back in, dusting his hands off, a soft smile on his lips. He raised a brow at Hector as he came back over.
"So, you were saying something about increasing our cultivation speed? I'm assuming you want to use the door, right?" Lincoln said with a light smile, picking at the dirt between his fingers. He frowned, flicking a few flecks to the side.
"I do," Hector said, glancing at Jodie. "But it's a little more than just the mana released from the door."
He lowered his voice, his eyes moving to the tent flap that opened as Mrs. Strongmail stepped out. She stretched as her hands moved to her head, tying her loose hair up into a simple bun. Hector nodded at her before turning back to the others.
"I've recently awakened another Talent," he said in a whisper. "It should allow us to distribute the benefits received from meditation. I think we could all speed up our cultivation a little just by using it."
Jodie perked up. "You're saying we could share the cultivation gains made through meditation and speed up our overall progress?"
Hector nodded.
Jodie stepped over, leaning against the butchering table and crossing her arms. "That'd be quite something. The mana in the room alone would probably speed up my progress by a few months, and if you can increase it further with this Talent…"
She punched him in the arm and let out a light chuckle. "You've been holding out on me, Hector."
Sandals scraped against stone as Lincoln dropped to a knee and rolled his eyes while scooping up another pile of materials. "So, when do you want to do this? Go to the room, I mean."
Hector shrugged. "I thought we could do it as soon as you got back from your delivery. Most of us are here, and I could bring Nyx and Emela next time."
"All right, it shouldn't take too long, especially with the help," Lincoln said with a grunt as he got back to his feet, a stack of Hairless Rat hide squelching in his hand. He spared Hector another glance. "I should be able to break through soon. Though I haven't meditated in quite a while. I've been busy." His eyes drifted to the side a little, a foggy look overtaking them.
Lincoln was never one to share much about his home life. From when they were kids, he'd always preferred to laugh off things that had hurt him. He pushed any lack of competence he felt to the side. Slaving away for his mother, he barely did much for himself. In a way, his selfishness probably came from having little that wasn't controlled by that woman.
"But," Lincoln continued, "the last time I meditated, I felt myself closing in on the final boundary. I should be able to break through to Gravity-Forging-Three soon, especially if we make use of that door."
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"That's good to hear," Hector said.
Lincoln then turned and walked away. He moved through the dome, parts of the Hairless Rat's hide sloughing off and slapping to the stone as he brought the materials back to the sled waiting beyond the entrance.
Over towards the side, Mrs. Strongmail walked to her daughter and said a few words. The two of them then began walking over, Mirae following behind while Harry stayed there, continuing to practice the Orion Fist moves.
Hector perked up, pushing off the butchering table and moving towards the three of them. "Is everything all right?"
"Yes, quite fine actually, dear. I just wanted to make a start on dinner, and Pippa's going to help me," Mrs. Strongmail said, resting a hand on her daughter's back.
"I offered to help," Mirae said, swinging herself a little, her white ponytail swaying behind her. Her hand rested behind her back, crumpling her tattered shirt as a small smile came to her lips.
"But?" Hector asked, raising an eyebrow, a soft smile tugging on the corner of his lips.
"You never gave me an answer about the door," Mirae said in a singsongy voice, as if to make the request somehow sweeter. "So, can we use it to cultivate, or is something the matter?"
Hector let out a small sigh and shifted on his feet. He glanced briefly behind at Jodie, and then his gaze moved to his tent. "All right, I'll give you my answer, but I'm going to need to speak to you in the tent first."
"Oh, what about?" Mirae asked, tilting her head to the side.
—- —- —- —-
"Are you sure you want to include them in the pact now?" Jodie asked, raising a hand. Her eyes drifted to her forearm, where the tattoo of the tree rested—the pact they had made. "Do you want to include them in just this one?" she asked. "Or both?"
Hector sat up, wiggling a little against the tent canvas. Above, the mana stone's blue light washed over the tent's interior as a fire crackled in the middle between them. The small pot was resting on a tripod just above it.
"I think I'll include them in both," Hector said with a sigh. "I see no reason to have one but not the other, considering they are both deeply tied to me. Besides, regarding it being too soon, I think it has to be now."
"Oh?" Jodie questioned, shifting a little on the tent floor. She rested one hand on the canvas, leaning on it. "And why is that?"
Hector's gaze shifted from Jodie to his sister. "As Mirae said, she wants to use the door to cultivate, and it would be wrong of me to deny Pippa and Harry the same benefit. I think it would be best if all of us go into the trial realm, and I don't want to waste time trying to keep a secret that'll potentially slow us down and put us in danger."
"So you want to tell them about Talents so you can give them some?" Jodie asked.
Hector nodded, his gaze drifting to the crackling pot of soup in the middle. Mirae had made a fresh batch of [Vitality Soup] with the butchered innards of the Earthen Moles shortly after they got into the tent. Something about always being prepared.
"Are you planning to have Mrs. Strongmail cultivate as well?" Mirae asked, her purple eyes moving to the pot as she picked up a spoon and then leaned forward, stirring its contents. "I think she'd be a good cultivator. She has a lot of skills."
"That was kind of my idea," Hector said. "I also wanted her to show you guys a thing or two. She is our only way of butchering these creatures. If we don't find someone else, how are we going to increase production?"
"Never mind the fact that if she cultivates, she won't be able to butcher the creatures," Jodie interrupted.
"Yes, exactly," Hector said. He raised his hands, twiddling his fingers. "I believe she should cultivate. I think it's necessary for her safety, and I don't want to leave anyone without protection." His gaze tracked the spoon as Mirae beat the side of the pot and set it back down.
A bland yet sweet smell drifted up Hector's nose as he continued. "It's also for that reason that I feel we should—at least after dealing with the trial realm—grow our mercenary group. With more people, we'll be able to move through more of our stock of creatures. Even now, the Hairless Rat population in the cave still grows, but if we were to wipe out a bunch, rotting corpses would be everywhere. We'd have nowhere to put them, and only one person to process them."
Jodie nodded, combing her fingers through her ginger hair and curling a strand behind her ear. She leaned backwards. Her gaze rested on the fire for a moment before moving back to Hector.
"With the recent troubles within the slums, I find it difficult to believe we'd have much success growing our mercenary group. After all, people have seen what happened to the Scoda gang after the Collar Gang got serious."
"Yes, they did," Hector said, "but we're different. We wouldn't be offering people a gang to join; we'd be offering them a mercenary group—something a little more legitimate."
Jodie chuckled. "That's the thing, Hector; we aren't legitimate. Not yet, anyway."
Hector nodded, raising a hand and scratching his cheek. She had a point. They weren't legitimate.
I don't think we'll be legitimate for much longer, though. With the money coming in from the Montegs, we should be able to buy a license soon. Though that's a whole deal in itself. The others and I are slum dwellers; is the city going to actually let people like us grow?
"All right, let's put growing the mercenary company on the back burner for now," Hector said, dropping his hands to his lap. "Though I think we can at least add Mrs. Strongmail, Pippa, and Harry. The three of them are going to be down here with us for the foreseeable future anyway—especially Harry."
Jodie nodded while Mirae beamed. Her small hands tightened into fists, and a look of determination overtook her features.
"What?" Hector asked, raising a brow at his sister.
"Nothing. I just feel like we're making so much progress now. I mean, considering where we were just a week ago."
Hector nodded.
"I think they should join," Jodie said, "but I think we should also discuss it with everyone first."
"I don't know." Hector crossed his arms. "When's the next time we'll be meeting up?"
"Hopefully soon," Jodie replied. "I mean, we have to use the door to cultivate, and we all need to take the time to grow while we can. Do you know when Emela is coming down next?"
—- —- —- —-
Emela rested her hand on her armrest as her eyes surveyed the Grand Hall. Her family members—cousins, aunties, uncles, all of varying closeness—sat in their seats, pensive looks on their faces as they muttered to each other.
"How do you think the family will respond?" Emela asked Nyx. The black-haired girl sat in the seat next to her. The two of them sat several seats closer to the entrance to the Grand Hall, a position for those of less value to the House of Frostkeep.
"I'm not sure, Mistress," Nyx said, sitting a little straighter. Some of the family members in the seats closer to them, the rows above and below, eyed her. Being the Patriarch's daughter still had its benefits, even if the family didn't value her. Nyx actually getting to sit next to her was one of them.
Nyx shifted under the gaze of one of Emela's younger, distant cousins. The boy's standard Frostkeep-blue eyes narrowed at her, while judgment seemed to simmer on his lips. He'd probably say something if he were a little braver. But they were in the Grand Hall; causing a disturbance was a good way to get kicked out.
"Mistress, I think it's starting," Nyx said as a localised blizzard rushed to life, obscuring the patriarchal chair as mana filled the room. "We can only hope that this will go well."
Go well, and by the great lake, I hope they don't figure out it's a trial realm.