MISSION: Purge the Rot-Tainted Abomination OBJECTIVE: The vile essence of this intruder has violated the creation's order, bonding with this failed elven form. KILL IT AND DEVOUR IT. DO NOT LET A SINGLE DROP OF ITS FILTHY BLOOD SEEP ONTO THE LAND. TASKS:

Kill the abomination – Mutating elf (1/1)

Devour the abomination – Prevent land contamination (1/1)

REWARD:

+1 Technique Recipe

+1 Skill Fusion Token

Uhh. That felt… weirdly dramatic. And kind of urgent.

But the rewards? Now those were interesting. No stats. No morphogen. No skill points either. Just… stuff I hadn't seen in a long time. The last time I got anything like this was way back in the dungeon. That was when things started getting spicy.

Still—I'd take it. My current technique had been absurdly useful, even if I hadn't managed to push it past Tier I.

Part of the reason? Well… I hadn't exactly used it much lately. Using it in Drakkari form wasn't exactly fashion-friendly, and the last thing I needed was an accidental flash incident during a high-speed phase-through. One awkwardly timed phase and boom—wardrobe malfunction. Combat wasn't supposed to be NSFW.

Though I was pretty sure there was a workaround waiting to be found. Maybe some kind of armor or outfit that could sync with my dimensional resonance, since that's what the technique operated on anyway. Just needed more time to research or invent it. Y'know. Casual.

Still, now that I had another shot at crafting a new technique? Tempting. But I remembered the catch last time: requirements. Tier III skills. Stat minimums. That sort of gatekeeping. And while my stats were way up compared to before, my skills hadn't advanced quite as much. Not yet.

I hadn't even bought the new skills I unlocked from my current evolution. So… probably better to hold off on using these shiny new tokens for now. A few of my skills were right on the edge of hitting Tier III, and one already had. I just hadn't picked an upgrade path for it yet. Been a while since I last upgraded anything, honestly.

Before that, though, I opened my stat screen again—and yeah, my hunch had been right.

Whatever my clones ate… counted as me. The morphogen boost was way too high for just the elf. Plus, I'd leveled up from kills I didn't make directly. So that confirmed it: the system considered them "me."

Quantum magic is delicious madness—but mine, so zero complaints.

Bottom line: loads of morphogen to work with.

I could mutate my fresh organ right now. Hell, I could push it to Tier IV right out the gate. But one question nagged at me:

Could I mutate while in my human form?

I'd never actually tried. And I wasn't keen on going full dragon in the middle of the woods near camp, even with anti-divination charms up. All it would take is Vyra wandering out here—maybe wondering what was taking me so long to collect a few sticks—and I'd have to explain why there was a full-sized, mana-hungry dragon gnawing its own spleen into something new.

Didn't hurt to try, though.

So I pulled up the screen again, focused on the Quantum Nexus, and…

Nope. Nothing.

Welp. That was unfortunate.

I could try shifting into my half-dragon form. That might work.

After a quick glance around to make sure no one was nearby, I ducked behind a tree, peeled off my clothes and bracer, and let the shift take over—growing into my eleven-foot-tall humanoid dragon form.

Alright, now?

I focused on the organ again, reaching out through the system interface… and got nothing. Just dead static. Still unresponsive.

Well. That settled it.

Mutations only triggered in my full dragon form. Great. Super convenient. Definitely something I could pull off right next to a half-frozen campsite full of humanoids who were definitely not ready to see a draconic upgrade binge happen meters away from their warehouse.

I needed to get out of here soon. Somewhere safe, isolated—where no one could jumpscare me mid-organ mutation.

It physically hurt to shelf the mutations again. But fine. Another delay.

Not everything was on hold, though.

I still had plenty to go through—and first on the list was upgrading one of my most-used, most-reliable skills.

But before that… time to return to my drakkari form. I shifted back, threw on my clothes and bracer, and finally pulled up my stat screen again.

• Breath of Shadows: Level 10 (II) [+]

Maxed. Finally.

I focused on the [+], and a new window slid into view.

Breath of Shadows Increases sensitivity to air currents in enclosed spaces or tight quarters. Detects breathing patterns, subtle movements, or the approach of hidden enemies. Optimized for ambush detection and locating concealed foes in complex environments.

Upgrade Options:

1. Quantum Air Sense:

Air currents passively entangle with particles they contact (dust, skin cells, fabric).

Increases overall detection range.

Detects residual quantum signatures left behind within the last 30 seconds (requires conscious mana use), visualized as:

Faint shimmering trails (paths taken).

Ghostly silhouettes (where someone was).

2. Hidden Resonator:

Your own movement generates subtle air vibrations, causing quantum interference.

Creates a passive 5m "static field" that blurs your presence, making you harder to detect by magical or sensory means.

Movement leaves false probabilistic echoes (e.g., 40% chance enemies perceive you behind instead of ahead).

Also increases your detection range.

Hoh?

So quantum affinity was creeping into my skills too now. Not complaining. Actually… that was kind of incredible.

These weren't just standard upgrades—this was evolution.

And the first one? Hot damn.

Double the detection range—probably at least 40 meters now, though it didn't say exact numbers. But the last effect? The main meat?

Residual quantum signatures.

As in: a rewind button for the last thirty seconds.

See faint trails of movement. Pinpoint where someone had just been. Ghosty outlines left behind. All without divination magic. Which meant anti-divination wouldn't do squat against it.

Sure, it was situational, but when that situation hit? It could change the entire game. Perfect for hunting someone cloaked. Or tracking. Or… ambushing the ambushers.

It felt very powerful.

But the real question was… was it worth spending a full upgrade on this?

Sure, Quantum Air Sense was shiny and powerful—but maybe I could learn a similar spell down the line. That was sort of the whole premise behind Quantum Magic, wasn't it? Flexible. Broad. Technically overpowered. And I was still figuring it all out.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Now, Hidden Resonator—that one had me hooked for a different reason. My stealth setup was solid, visually. Between Phantom Dragon Dance and Distortion Cloak, I could all but vanish if I stood still. Stacked right, I was a blur, a shadow, a ghost flickering between layers.

But that wasn't enough. I'd learned that.

Zharitsa—Alchemy Tower's guard captain—sniffed me out immediately back then. Wind affinity. Definitely running some version of my air-sensing skill. That moment drove the point home: hiding from eyes wasn't the same as hiding from senses.

And that's where Hidden Resonator came in. It offered the one thing I didn't yet have: magical stealth. It said I'd be harder to detect by any sort of magical or sensory ability. Not full invisibility, sure, but it would tilt the odds in my favor. Make me a living false-positive.

Plus, it expanded my detection radius too—same as the first option.

Sure, maybe I could get similar effects through spells or enchantments. But this? This was passive. Always-on. Like my air sense. No casting, no prep—just baked-in misdirection.

And that… was powerful.

After a bit more mental tug-of-war, I made my decision.

Hidden Resonator.

As soon as I selected it, a warm, fluid rush of information surged into my head. Like pressure releasing behind my ears—and then my world expanded. What used to be a 20-meter bubble of air awareness had stretched out to a full 40 meters or so. Clean, sharp, intuitive. And it'd only grow further as the skill leveled.

Nice.

As for the stealth field? I didn't feel any different. Not yet, at least. But I had a few unwilling test subjects back at camp. Once I got close enough, I'd find out exactly how well it worked.

Before heading back, though, I had one more thing to poke.

The new tab glowing on my status screen.

Quantum Spells.

I didn't know what to expect—but I focused on it anyway.

A window slid into view.

[Jade?]

I blinked. "Lotte?!"

[Hmm… looks like this interface is working just fine.]

I shook my head slowly. Not the first time she'd spoken to me through the system screens. The first time was when she reached out with that sharp warning not to evolve without talking to her first. That was also the first moment I realized—she could influence the waking world from the dream one.

I'd always meant to ask her about that. Just… never had the right moment. Or enough curiosity. It felt too surreal at the time.

And honestly, back then, that "communication" was pure one-way broadcast. Lotte issued divine mandate. I avoided dying. Simple transaction.

But now?

This felt… different. Interactive. Like an actual backdoor chat window into the ancient lizard living rent-free in my head.

I finally lobbed the question her way.

[It was the start of your journey,] Lotte's words flowed across the mental screen. [While I framed my initial intervention as… idle curiosity, it needed doing. One way or another. But once you found your footing? That need evaporated. It wasn't that I wanted to end it, hatchling. I was fundamentally limited. Couldn't affect much, couldn't communicate much like that… without risking detection. Had to pull back hard.]

"Detection?" My voice sharpened. "Unnoticed by who? Who the hell were you hiding from?"

A pause. Then, the words appeared. [You must have realized by now, little hatchling. The System itself… is very much conscious. Aware. Watching.]

"Yeah… yeah, I kinda figured. The way it talks now? The missions? The wording's gotten… moody. Snarky, sometimes." I swallowed. "So… what? Can it see you talking to me right now?"

[Hmm… It can sense communication. It knows someone is pinging your interface. But unlike my… blunter approach last time? I'm using a proxy now.]

"Proxy… meaning Xaleth's stupidly massive spellbook?"

[Precisely. So, while the System registers chatter, it can't easily decipher the source or the content. And Xaleth was notoriously… tricky. Paranoia was practically his middle scale. He'd never leave something behind that could be easily cracked by prying eyes, divine or otherwise.]

Relief warred with a fresh wave of unease. It all sounded clever… maybe too clever. A weird alarm bell started clanging in my head. "So… do I need to be wary? Of the System itself?"

I could almost hear the melodic rumble of her laugh in the pause before her reply. [Wary? No, Jade. Not wary. If anything, the opposite. It sees you as a valuable asset now. A rising star in its… collection. What I'm doing, however… is bending a few of its established rules. Sidestepping protocols. Hence… a little secrecy is mandatory. Think of it as creative accounting.]

I think I got it. Rules-lawyering the weird system bureaucracy. But then… a spark ignited. A wild, hopeful little flame. "Does that mean… you can just… always be in touch now? Like this? Now that you've got this proxy?"

[In theory…] The words appeared, deliberate. [Yes. That should be… feasible.]

Feasible.

The word slammed into me. Always in touch.

Heat exploded in my chest – a sudden, overwhelming swell of emotion. Until now, the only way I could truly talk to Lotte, hear her voice, feel her presence… was deep in the vulnerable quiet of my dreams. Countless times in the waking world – facing danger, seeing something strange, just wanting to share a stupid thought – I'd wished.

And the only time she'd broken through? That desperate warning… it had been one-way. Shouted orders into the void. I couldn't talk back. Couldn't ask. Couldn't share.

But now, She was here. Right now. In the biting fog, surrounded by this weird forest. And she could hear me. Not just sense my panic, but listen.

It felt… indescribable. Unreal and hyper-real all at once. She'd always wanted to hear my stories, know where I'd been, what stupid thing I'd done next. And now… I didn't have to wait. Didn't have to save it up. I could just… tell her. Because she'd be here. Listening. Always.

A sudden, stupid warmth pricked behind my eyes. I quickly swiped a claw across my snout. Welp. At least she can't see me out here. She'd laugh her ancient, rumbling laugh and call me a sentimental little hatchling… which, yeah. I was. And proud of it. But she didn't need the satisfaction of knowing she'd made me tear up over a damn chat window.

Needing to do something, share something, I looked around wildly at the fog-wreathed, unsettling trees pressing close. My voice came out thick but eager in my mind. "Hey! You remember that forest I told you about? The weird one?"

[The one saturated with anomalous energies? The Veilwoods?] The reply came instantly, but I could almost sense her curiosity piquing.

"Exactly! That one!" I practically beamed. "I'm standing right in the middle of it! Right now! Want me to describe it? It's… it's something else. Like the air itself can't decide if it wants to be solid or not."

I could feel her warm laugh humming in my head at my excitement—light, familiar.

[Go on.]

So I did.

I started rambling, excitedly narrating every odd, elegant detail. The snow-draped trees. The bark, all dusky-silver with threads of dark purple like veins beneath skin. Strange, smooth, too perfect for something that should've felt rugged. The grass didn't grow in any natural pattern either—it curled and twisted in loops, almost deliberate. Like it was trying to write something in a language I didn't understand.

It was eerie, haunting… but beautiful. Like a painting someone forgot to make friendly.

[Though, before you drift too far, I feel like you're forgetting something, Jade.]

I blinked. "Oh, right—the spells!"

Silly me. Talking to Lotte outside the dream had completely steamrolled every other thought. For a second, I forgot why she was even here through the spellbook in the first place.

"So… how's this going to work exactly?"

[As I understand it now, the spellbook is keyed to your progression. You unlocked your first spell upon completing your evolution. Then, upon reaching level five, another spell was added.]

"Wait—so every five levels I get, I unlock a new spell?"

[Correct. That seems to be the intended design. A slow unraveling of knowledge.]

I squinted. "Assuming that was Xaleth's plan?"

[Precisely. This was the spellbook of a powerful dragon, Jade. Skipping ahead would only get you incinerated from the inside. Power without readiness is just self-destruction wearing fancy robes.]

"Yeah, fair. Magic always comes with fine print and a threat of combustion."

I straightened, my hands practically itching now.

"Alright… show me. What spells do I have access to?"

I could barely contain my excitement.

Because for once, this wasn't survival, or danger, or desperation. This was discovery. And I was ready.

****

Vasilisa fixed a glacial stare on the drakkari lounging in her office chair as if he owned it. Miss Petrov stood rigidly beside her, radiating shared disgust at the intrusion, yet neither woman spoke. The stout drakkari opposite them wasn't just rude—he was the Flameclaw sect's current representative. Matriarch Snezana's uncle. With the Matriarch temporarily absent, he'd seized certain duties, including investigating the recent chaos.

Vasilisa's suspicions curdled. Why target a hero? she seethed internally. Why interrogate for someone who'd literally died for this city and its people?

The stout drakkari, Damir, examined a portrait of a silver-haired drakkari while puffing on a reeking cigar. He finally spoke, and Vasilisa's immediate impulse was to eject him bodily. "Consider this," he rasped, smoke tarnishing the air. "What if she was a spy? One who… inconveniently developed a conscience?"

"With all due respect, Lord Damir," Vasilisa countered, "people conceal their powers for countless valid reasons. To twist an act of ultimate sacrifice into some underhanded scheme, simply because she hid her identity? That casts a rather illuminating shadow on your own perspective."

Damir's gaze locked onto hers, unblinking. "You imply fault in my perception."

Vasilisa, who rarely flinched before House Heads, felt the weight of his presence. This wasn't a man open to appreciation; he was a Gold Core cultivator. While she and the Alchemy Tower held value, politically, antagonizing him bordered on idiocy.

Yet, beneath her sternum, a vein of pure rage pulsed, threatening to rupture. This gilded toad had done nothing but sling mud at Jade's memory since slithering in. Implying she orchestrated the disaster?!? Probing for weaknesses, for leverage. Vasilisa's legendary patience was fraying, its final threads snapping one by one.

But the scalding anger couldn't quite cauterize the deeper wound: a raw, hollow ache nestled in her chest. She rubbed at eyes that felt scraped raw. That selfish, bratty prodigy… to possess that depth of courage? Jade was an enigma, bafflingly blind to the disdain she provoked. The concept of incompetence seemed alien to her. Head perpetually in the clouds, yes, but underpinned by a skill so sharp it felt… borrowed. Uncanny precision, as if guided by an invisible hand far more meticulous than Vasilisa's own.

It was… infuriating. That persistent whisper of inadequacy next to a ghost teacher she'd never glimpsed. Perhaps there had been a mentor, a shadowy architect behind Jade's brilliance. The question had always burned, but fear, or pride, had kept it unasked. Now, the silence was absolute. The chance, like Jade, was simply… gone.

Vasilisa dipped her head. "I apologize for that remark, Lord Damir." The words tasted like ash. "Simply understand... she was my pupil. And when a master loses an apprentice – vanishes them, one after another – the weight settles differently. I mourn them all. Some simply carve deeper graves in the memory." She met his reptilian stare, her voice flat. "We've already surrendered every scrap we possess about her. What you choose to do with that... is entirely your own burden."

He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're still proceeding with that... funeral?" His nose wrinkled with the delicate distaste of someone stepping in offal.

Vasilisa's spine straightened. "She wasn't merely a student within these walls, Lord Damir. She was a martyr. I will ensure the entire district remembers the price she paid…" A cold, deliberate pause. "Your personal distaste is irrelevant to the debt owed."

His departure was swift, lacking any serpentine grace. Yet, the air he left behind felt thick, wrong. Vasilisa's instincts, honed sharper than any scalpel, screamed dissonance. Why this obsessive fixation on a drakkari girl who was, politically speaking, dust on the wind? Jade held no connections Vasilisa knew of, hailing from some forgotten Bloodtide tributary sect.

But Vasilisa's true mastery lay in observation, a skill refined to detect the faintest tremor, the subtlest shift. She possessed a nose for fear. And when Damir had clutched that portrait, beneath the gilded veneer of his Gold Core authority, there had been nothing but raw, primal terror in his eyes.

That was the unsettling calculus. Why would a Gold Core cultivator, a power magnitude above Jade's Red Core, radiate such primal fear… towards a ghost?

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