Cultivating Talents [LitRPG Mana-cultivation]

"Where are we going?" Hector asked, stepping around the campfire, a brief scent of soot slithering up his nose, as the flame flickered low. Lincoln had taken all the parts from the Earthen Moles and Hairless Rats a few hours earlier. A new pile of corpses sat next to the butcher's table—the Earthen Moles were still quite fresh, while the Hairless Rats had already started rotting a little.

"Remember what you asked me to do last time, Hector?" Lincoln asked, stepping through the shimmering dome. It dappled his tattered brown shirt in blue light as he made his way into the cave tunnels. He turned back to Hector as he walked. "I think you may like—or dislike—what I'm about to show you."

"You're not inspiring a lot of confidence in me right now, Lincoln," Hector said, trudging through the darkness. The light from the mana stone hanging on his hip pushed back against it, leaving them in an oasis of blue. Tendrils of black occasionally flickered in.

Echoes of distant claws scratching at the stone filled the cave tunnel, paired with strained, scratchy squeaks. The Hairless Rats had reclaimed most of the tunnels since they had dealt with the Earthen Moles, but that didn't mean they had fully recovered. Hector and Jodie's hunting had kept their numbers a little more in check than they had been before he and his friends had established the hideout.

Hector and Lincoln walked for several minutes, exchanging a few words, until eventually they came to the turning point where the cave tunnels merged into the sewer. And there stood three boys—all scrawny, all their clothes tattered, and all the hair on their heads thinning.

Hector turned to Lincoln. "What is this?"

Silence filled the space for a moment. Apart from a slow burbling of thin streams of sewer water rushing against the stone. Hector twisted his sandaled foot against the slick stone as he turned from Lincoln to the scrawny boys.

Lincoln shrugged, raising a brow and gesturing to them, his hands waving dismissively. "This is what you asked for. The Dump Guard, remember? Adrian's boys. This is them."

Hector's eyes slid towards the three scrawny teens. The boys shivered under his gaze. One even stepped back briefly, slipping on the sewer water. He caught himself, but still backed up shakily.

"I can see that," Hector said, turning away from the boys and back to Lincoln. "But what are they doing here?"

"Well," Lincoln said. He crossed his arms, his eyes turning to the darkness they had just left. Faint waves of inky blackness lapped at the edge of the light produced by the mana stones. "They're looking for employment. As you predicted, they're hungry. Adrian's gone; they have no way to get food. It's a win-win."

"I'm not so sure about that," Hector said. "But that doesn't explain why they're here, Lincoln." Hector raised his voice a little, jabbing a finger towards the boy near the right wall. "He's scrawny as all hell."

"Hell?" Lincoln asked, raising a brow.

"Never mind that. But he's scrawny. There's no way by the Great Lake that he followed you down here, Lincoln. What are they doing here?"

Sighing, Lincoln took a step back and leaned against the tunnel wall, his sandals scraping briefly against the stone as he propped himself up. "Well, I led them here."

"What?" Hector's mouth fell open, a sliver of worry taking hold in his chest.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, gesturing towards them with a thumb. "There's no way, as you said, they would make it here. I needed you to understand that I need them. Remember earlier when I said I was getting a little help?"

"I do," Hector said, his brow furrowing as he nodded. "But I assumed you were talking about Griffin. The boy should be more than strong enough to help you drag a sled through a sewer tunnel."

"He is. But many hands make light work," Lincoln said, shrugging.

Hector groaned, raising his hands and dragging them down his face. This was by far the riskiest thing Lincoln had done. Bringing the three boys here put Hector and everyone in the hideout at risk. Sure, the three ex-Dump Guards hadn't left the sewers, but with enough dedication and time, they could stumble around in the darkness of the caverns.

Though. Hector's eyes drifted back to the boys. Thin. Sickly. Starving. The Hairless Rats would tear them apart in moments. But that didn't eliminate the risk; after all, someone more capable could have followed them.

"Alright, Lincoln. You brought them here and told me they needed employment. I'm agreeing, but I want you to know how stupid this was."

Lincoln scratched at his cheek, his eyes shifting to the thick, clinging, faeces-ridden mud for a moment before moving back to Hector. "I get that. Not my best work. But I couldn't think of anywhere better. After all, you can't exactly walk around the slums right now. And I needed you to see."

"See what? And really. Nowhere better?" Hector said, shaking his head. He sighed, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tattered breeches. He needed to buy some new ones before he ended up naked.

"See what you're asking me to get you," Lincoln said, his arms raising before flapping to his sides. "These aren't fighters, Hector. If we make use of them, we have to feed them, possibly house them somewhere."

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"Oh, we don't need housing," one boy muttered. "We sleep in the dump just fine."

Hector rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively at the boy. "I get it, Lincoln, and I have plans for that soon. But first, if you ever do anything like this again, Lincoln, there will be serious consequences. What can be given, can be taken"

Lincoln shivered, his lips pulling into a thin line.

Hector continued. "If you're gonna invite me to see random people, at least let me know so I can be in disguise. This could have been anyone—for all you know, they could work for…"

Hector stopped himself. But he could tell Lincoln got the message. Nodding, Lincoln pushed up off the wall and shook his head. "Sorry. I was reckless."

"Reckless is putting it lightly," Hector said.

He then snorted, rubbing his nose, the stench of the sewer wafting up into it—acrid and sweet, with a faint smell of faeces. Gagging a little, Hector shifted his eyes back to Adrian's old Dump Guard.

How are they standing there like they can't smell anything?

"I think, for now, the plan is to have them as outward members," Hector said, "the type to carry out our tasks but not be overly involved in our affairs."

"That sounds good," Lincoln said, stepping next to him. He dusted a hand on his pants and picked at one of the many threads. "Anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, where are we going to keep them? Where are they going to stay?"

"For now, the dumps. But I have some thoughts," Hector said.

He shifted his eyes, moving past the three of them, almost piercing through the stone. The old brewery was still a place of contention within the slums—many smaller gangs moved in and out of there, each claiming it for their own. But they could fight for it, take it over and have it under their control. It'd be a good base of operations.

He just needed to figure out a way to tell everyone, because keeping a secret like this could only end badly—and Jodie would hardly be in the mood to hear about more plotting behind her back.

Hector sighed, shaking his head and resting a hand on his forehead.

Why do I always seem to find myself in these random struggles?

—- —- —- —-

Hector stepped up to the wall, his back resting against the cool stone of the tunnel. He crossed his arms. The light from the mana stone hanging on his hip caught in his eyes as he held Emela's shaky gaze.

The twin-braided girl stepped forward, her fingers fidgeting before her as she seemed to consider her next words. Behind her, Nyx, plain-faced as usual, scanned the darkness.

While they'd taken care of the Hairless Rats recently, that didn't mean there weren't a few odd patrols still lingering around. They would no doubt grow in the next few days, provided Hector and Jodie didn't continue their culling.

"So what's this about?" Hector asked, shifting a little. Loose rocks scattered at his feet as he lifted his foot, resting it against the wall.

"Well, I don't exactly know how to tell you this," Emela said, biting her lower lip. "I don't know how you'll react."

"I mean, you're my friend, Emela," Hector said. "There's not much you can tell me that will force me to change how I feel. I mean, unless you tell me something that destroys the way I see reality—but that's already happened quite a bit lately. So I think I'm getting used to that."

Emela gulped, her gaze shifting subtly. The mana stone's light caught in her eyes as she looked down the tunnel. Distant screeches sounded further down, followed by some heavy thuds. Jodie had left earlier, saying she'd check if the coast was clear—see if any creatures had taken over the room. The trial realm door would surely attract more beasts towards it, attempting to cultivate their latent power.

"Besides, Emela," Hector continued, "I believe in you, and I trust you wholly."

Hector's eyes shifted in the darkness. The pressing blackness weighed on him slightly, but he'd gotten used to the pressure. Mostly. Only the stale scent of rock slithering up his nose still made him a little uncomfortable, reminding him he was tens of feet underground.

If he stopped and thought about it too long, it might be scary—a cave-in could kill them. Though they had more pressing issues. With what Mirae had said to him the other day, Emela was likely about to reveal that she was a noble.

However. Noble, slum dweller; they were all the same—just people trying to survive. And with his friends, nothing would change, no matter where they came from. Especially now. They needed each other and needed to work together.

Emela pulled a ring from her finger, holding it up in the light. Its deep gold body sat in her palm, with blue stripes accenting its edges. The surface of the ring twinkled slightly in the light, sharp rays catching Hector's attention. He recognised the ring. It was the one he'd found the day he'd first met Emela in the dump—the one she said she'd been looking for.

"You remember it, right?" she asked, pinching it between two fingers and raising it.

Hector nodded, shifting against the rock wall, the stone biting into his back a little. "I do. What about it?"

"This ring signifies a lot to me. My grandfather—who gave it to me—treasured it. And I'm not sure of the full story, but to get it, apparently, he did things that changed the slums a lot."

Hector set his jaw. That was a statement if he'd ever heard one. Few in the city of Middlec could make or enact policies that could change the way the slums functioned. Not normal people, anyway.

"What are you saying?" Hector asked, readjusting himself against the wall. He raised a hand and rubbed his eye.

Emela sighed with a heavy breath.

"I'm a Frostkeep, Hector," she said, standing a little taller, her back stiffening as she slightly raised her chin. "My name is Emela Frostkeep of the Frostkeep Great Family. I'm the second daughter of Blaine Frostkeep, the patriarch of the Frostkeep family," Emela said.

Hector's mind stalled. A stale, subtle breeze from a place unknown brushed against his skin as his palms tightened a little.

A noble. So Mirae's speculations were right.

If he were honest, he should have seen it long ago. The signs were all there. Her cleanliness compared to the other slum dwellers, specifically her white shirt. The first time he found her—how she held herself. Hell, the way she and Nyx interacted.

He glanced at the black-haired girl.

Emela raised a brow, catching his meaning, and shook her head. "Nyx isn't a member of the Frostkeeps, not like me. She's my personal maid. She serves me and has been with me since I was a child."

A soft smile came to Emela's lips. "She keeps me grounded and keeps me aware of things that others like myself would take for granted."

"That explains the whispering," Hector said with a huff of laughter.

Emela frowned, and Hector raised a hand, waving it. She probably could have done with a bit more subtlety. "You know, every time you state something confidently, and then Nyx whispers in your ear and you take it back."

Emela blushed a little.

Laughing a little louder, Hector shook his head and smiled. "Yeah, we've noticed," he said. "But it's fine. I mean, I have no problem with it. Lincoln, though... let's just say it bugs him a bit."

"That's rich coming from him," Emela said, crossing her arms. She huffed, kicking a loose rock across the floor. It clattered off into the darkness, pinging off something. "Especially with the many secrets he keeps."

Hector shrugged, leaning back further against the wall. "Anyway, back to what you were saying. Why exactly are you telling me all of this?"