"Is something wrong?" Zog asked first.

I approached and thrusted the steaming mug into his hands before plopping onto one of the couches.

"Besides a lot of things, no," I said.

He inspected the mug and sniffed the drink. After swirling the drink for a few seconds he daintily tipped some into his mouth and then swished it around.

"Sweet. New flavor, a hint of numbing spice." He lowered the drink and wiped a drop from his tusk. "Rich brown, added sticky substance. I see. A gentle poison then? Mask the taste with the sweetness and use the coating from the sugars to make it harder to dislodge? Usually people try their hardest on account of my size. I can appreciate the novelty."

"It's not poison. Just a drink from my land."

"It's not? Not even a little?"

"Do you normally expect to be poisoned?"

"Yes," he said deadpanned.

This guy's crazy. Great. But you already knew that…

"I don't poison people, not my thing. Especially not with food."

He downed a third of the cup and wiped his mouth with a embroidered cloth that wasn't in his hand a second before. "I see. Disappointing but understandable."

Fuck this.

"Listen. Is this a game? Are you messing with me? Was the battle obsessed idiot an act or is this one? Which is it?" I demanded.

He folded the napkin away and deposited it into his sleeve before he set the drink aside. His eyes found mine, directly, despite me controlling my mask to display nothing but an amorphous blob.

"There is no game. I have stated my desires and have revealed information my god deemed worthy to share. I'd apologize for the disgracefulness you've seen so far but that would be a disservice to you."

My eyes narrowed. "So what? You're a refined gentleman and at the same time a complete brute who's only desire is to pester me into a fight?"

"No," he stated. "I'm not some squabbling gold-born child. I'm respectful, and polite. Cognisant of my surroundings. The brute version you think of me is also me. Battle drives me forward. A product from my culture, a natural evolution from the desire to grow stronger and temper myself. It's also my curse, a madness that infects me much like your wrath affects you. Or are you to tell me that the Mordred inside the arena is all an act? The anger? The insanity?"

I watched him, silently. He sipped at the remnants of his drink and patiently waited completely unbothered. I could have passed off the word choice as a mere coincidence but his gaze remained unwavered, confident.

No. It's too deliberate. Not from someone like him.

"How'd you know?"

"Your disguise is convenient but poorly chosen. You display none of the instincts inherent to a beastkin. It would not pass scrutiny of any who chose to look harder than a passing glance."

"How'd you know specifically what I am?"

"My god. You're hidden to most of his senses by means he doesn't understand but he's seen enough. It's hard to truly hide from the scrutiny of the divine if they choose. I told you before, his domain covers specific aspects. You represent enough of those to the world that you touch upon his domain even if by it being barely more than a faint whisper."

I hid my discomfort by taking a long drink. The thought of being discovered by divine assholes solely because of my existence wasn't new but it meant I had a new goal to add to my list of things to do.

Cal hid from the gods, successfully. Considering Solunaria's pantheon remains unaware of his connection to Ysanna and Zolnja, if anyone knew how to better hide my presence then he would know. If he didn't, I'd find a way to poke Eraztis and figure something out.

Suddenly, Zog stood up and offered me the empty cup.

"I thank you and the Lightcrests for their hospitality. When we meet on the arena floor, I hope you will honor me with a good fight, Mordred."

"What do you deem a good fight?"

He grinned and raised a fist. Fire sprouted from his fingers and trailed up his arm in rapid pulses. "One where I can go all out. One that breaks my bones and makes me bleed. A fight that satisfies the hunger in my soul. To allow me to give it my all and reforge myself through its baptism. That's a fight I deem good enough."

"You'll be disappointed then," I shrugged.

He frowned and cut the display. "Why is that?"

I stood up and caught movement from the corner. I turned and saw Walter nod while fixing his attention toward Zog.

"Because," I said, after returning the nod. "I've no desire to baptise myself through anything. You know what I am, I have more than enough dragonshit in my life to give me that sort of pain. I'm afraid you'll have to be disappointed."

Rather than throwing a tantrum or exploding like I expected he merely returned my shrug and grinned. He noticed Walter in the corner and gave a slight bow to the man before heading for the door.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"I don't believe you, Mordred. I've seen your fights, I can feel your measure clawing at my soul. There's a reason you drew my god's eye, and it wasn't because of battle," Zog laughed. He stopped before the hallway and fixed me with one last tusk-filled grin. "You are challenge. You are change, chaos in the face of this facade of carefully constricted equilibrium. You'll fight me not because you have to, but because you'll want to. Just wait until your blood's boiling and your fists are ready. I'll be there awaiting the first attack."

His voice trailed and he exited the room. Walter followed him out and promptly returned. He remained ever professional, neither commenting about me standing there with my tail agitated and lashing the air, nor did his face break away from polite indifference.

"Is there anything I can assist you with, sir?"

I blinked and snapped out of my trance. Drumming tapped my head but not in a painful way. It felt like a good itch that scratched too deep but satisfied the need just right. Galarion continued to slumber inside my head otherwise he would have devoured the feeling long before it could rise in tempo.

I quelled my tail's movements and breathed in. "Thank you, Walter. I'm good for now. Nobody else is here right?"

"Other than Theodore's parents, you would be correct, sir."

I stared at the tip of my tail and mentally willed the enchantment from the earrings to stop. The air shimmered like fabric warping through a subtle wind as the illusion fizzled. Outside of a slight change in the brightness of the flames at the tip, there wasn't much of a difference to my eyes.

The enchantments on the earrings are crazy good. Should probably have Krem Identify them and see how much I really owe Teddy's parents.

"Sir," Walter said, interrupting my thoughts.

"Huh? Yes?"

"Without wanting to sound rude, may I make a suggestion?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?"

"The master and madam are currently busy with a game of Elmentia. They'll be preoccupied for the next couple of hours. Might I suggest you take the time to enjoy a well-deserved nap in the meantime? Or a bath perhaps, I can draw one for you. We have numerous sets of therapeutic treatments that can help one relax and rejuvenate their bodies."

"Elmentia?"

"The game for kids; involving marble pieces with different elemental affinities."

"Oh, that one," I muttered.

I thought about it. A nap sounded lovely but honestly, I didn't need to mess with my weird sleep schedule as it was. Besides, while I could enjoy some sleep–probably more so thanks to the items Khrem gave me–I wanted to hold off for now. There was plenty of time left in the day, better to not waste it.

"A bath sounds lovely, Walter. Uh, perhaps nothing too aromatic, I prefer something more subtle."

"Of course, sir. I'll have it ready in a moment. Would you like anything else with your bath? Master Teddy and Arturous have ready-made platters of food for the occasion."

I shook my head and chuckled imagining the two having a spa day while munching on cucumbers and deli meats.

"No to the food, but if you have a small table that can fit inside, I'll take it."

"It will be there whenever you are ready," Walter bowed.

He slipped deeper into the manor and I cracked my neck.

The drumming had faded, leaving a strange absence in my chest. A probe into my soulspace found everything normal. The soul wisps of my familiars bounced along the lake doing their own thing. I even caught Zharia resting atop her pedestal on the island.

I sent a mental wave and paused. It hadn't occurred to me before but the longer I stared the more I noticed the discrepancy.

Ahh. I should have checked earlier. No wonder why the realm seems less vibrant. Looks like carving tier two channels takes more than I thought.

I scanned the lakes, admiring the small ocean of blue that was my mana before looking up.

The puddle of essence stood out like a sore thumb while the grey shadows of my soulrealm encroached on the surrounding ceiling.

It was novel, to see the energy so low. Nearly from the start of my life in Inoria, I've always had essence at hand. Its energy remained inside me, filling me as the counterpoint to my mana. I guess a couple of weeks without refilling the stockpile drained it far more than I expected.

Even more of a reason to take some time outside the city. Can't enter the dungeon, that'd be idiotic, but surely the kingdom maintains a population of wild beasts we could hunt.

I took a second glance at the depressingly small pool of essence and sighed.

I'd need more than the occasional magical animal. My best bet would be another dungeon or a rift to harvest from, but the idea brought a sour taste to my mouth.

We'll handle that issue later. Spend a month or two relaxing and doing the odd hunt with Sereza and Khrem in the forest. Then we consider approaching another damn dungeon.

I reached my hand to my face and slipped my mask free. It's presence felt strange having it off my body.

"Sir," Walter said, popping out from behind a door. "The bath is ready."

I tucked my mask into my belt and nodded. "Thank you, Walter."

He slipped away and I headed down the stairs. I hadn't personally made use of the Lightcrest's famous bathing room but I knew where it was. There were only so many times the others could bring it up in a conversation before I passively absorbed the knowledge of the inner workings of the entire room.

If I have to hear another complaint about river showers again, I'm going to find a portable hottub just to fuck with them.

As I reached the door, I pulled it open and stood at the entrance. The smell of almonds and honey mixed with faint floral undertones that wafted out of the doorway. Stepping inside revealed traces of citrus and vanilla.

I came to a stop at the edge of the pool where a stone basin layed carved with marble benches submerged in purple water. The miniature waterfall adorned with a two-headed lion-like creature broke the flow and contained a barely visible enchantment inside the mouths. Despite being something that should have created a deafening cacophony of noise inside an enclosed space, it rang barely louder than a trickle. I suspected that the enchantment was adjustable as well, allowing me to dampen the sound further if I chose to.

And like Walter promised, inside the basin near the benches stood a flat speckled table of black marble spotted with golden flakes.

I stripped off my clothes and sank into the water, enjoying the perfectly warm liquid contorting around my body. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes and groaned in pleasure.

"Mmm… Soft memories… Good emotions…" Galarion bubbled.

I tapped my head and the palm-sized space squid oozed into my hand. I set him atop the table and lightly stroked his head.

"Are you still digesting your meal?" I asked.

He raised a tentacle and dramatically lifted his head as if it was a herculean task. "Yes. No."

"Yes you're still eating, but not entirely?"

"Yes."

I booped him and closed my eyes. Picturing my inventory, I searched for a journal, a pair of pens with different-colored ink and a book. They appeared one by one shaking my familiar from his lethargy.

Galarion's tentacles groped each item before he settled on the book and shot into the air.

"Help?"

"If you don't mind. I won't need it right away so you can continue to rest if you want."

"Okay!"

He sank into the water and started to lazily float toward the center of the basin. With a soft chuckle I threaded mana into my skills and caught the spirits as they appeared.

Áine jumped onto the table and sat near an edge, dipping her feet into the water. Sturmrorex wrapped himself around my torso before gently squeezing and releasing. He sent his thanks and contentment while he drifted underneath the water.

"If anyone needs anything just ask, okay?"

A round of mental head nods hit me and I turned my attention to the book.

Right, got about four hours till dinner. Let's see if I can replicate the runes I saw with the ones from Eraztis' book.

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