The Apprentice of Ouroboros [Monster Evo LitRPG Adventure]

Neska let out a low hiss of frustration and whispered to Syra, who had just gotten off her arcane relay, sending an urgent message to Brent. Meanwhile, the elementa stood tense, eyeballing the arrivals with a scornful look that crossed her face.

“Don't provoke them. Act cordially, make sure you show them the paperwork,” Neska reminded her. And I'll do my best not to kill them on the spot. Breathe, Neska. Keep it together. This is not Marikand and his killers. Hopefully.

Syra edged closer to her, whispering with urgency. “You act calm way too much. How do you do that?”

“By necessity. Making hasty decisions and emotional ones leads to bad outcomes,” Neska responded as the four riders approached. All of them were clad in their signature red armor with the dark black accents of the Seekers organization. Three of the men looked like seasoned warriors, their faces all hard-edged, scarred. One of them, the one in front, wore an emblem of a bloodied sword and sneered at them as they approached.

Yep. Seekers hated the Awakened almost as much as they hated the Varadur, and the lead man pointed at them. “You two. State your business. Are you Varadur spies?” he questioned. Greasy black hair hung loose from the soft leather cap riding atop his head. His skin looked leathery and weathered, but his body was lean, his movements precise and controlled. One gaping hole in his teeth told her he’d seen combat, or more likely, an unfavorable brawl in the past.

“Sir, they don’t look like spies; they’re dressed in school uniforms,” the fourth person in the rear said, a young man with short curly hair and caramel eyes. His face still looked boyish–the look of a kid who grew up in a city, and not that of a person hardened by the wilds of the world, or the monster invasion currently ongoing.

“Disciple, shut your mouth,” the first man snapped, whirling back his hand as if he intended to backhand him. The boy flinched and stumbled back, a startled expression on his face.

The lead man turned back to Neska. “If you’re not a spy, you’re a deserter. Awakened aren’t allowed out of the academy.”

“Incorrect. There is no rule or regulation against it within Valo's laws, nor with the emergency powers granted to the state in this time of conflict,” Neska answered calmly. She knew this to be true, having read up on the laws just for an occasion like this. “We have passage to and from the Sharp Woods Grove and secondary installation of Rivilat Academy.”

The answer that should have satisfied just anyone failed to change the curling sneer on his face. “Is that a fact? Papers. Now.”

“Please refer to us as Syra and Cassia, of Rivilat. We have papers granting passage to the secondary garrison at the Sharp Woods campus, where they are training rangers and scouts, plus other support teams,” Syra answered, bowing lightly. Neska, however, heard the tension in her voice and the froth of water in her body. She was angry.

The man snatched the papers out of Syra’s hands when offered, and muttered inaudibly as he examined them, scrunching his entire face as he mouthed the words.

“I’m Seeker Derek, this is Seeker Ryan,” one man introduced himself and his peer. He looked far more at ease compared to his squad lead, with some softness and youth in his face, light brown hair, and fewer hard-edged muscles. Seeker Ryan, the third man, placed his hand over his chest and gave a sweeping motion with his hand, as if chopping at wood on the ground--A Valosian greeting. However, he gave a discourteous stare at the lead man when his back was turned.

Derek continued, waving to the last man. “With us is Seeker trainee Nevin. It’s not very often we see Awakened outside of campus that aren’t on assignment.”

“I thought your organization didn’t have a presence in the city,” Neska commented, weighing her options. Fighting was not in the cards, not this time. One thing working in her favor was that these three men weren’t utter zealots, willing to jump to conclusions or swords immediately.

“A small company of seekers and investigators was dispatched upon receiving an emergency request from Lord Jondon, head of the Security Council of Rivilat. We are conducting investigations as part of a joint effort with the Valos and Juiksen military,” Derek answered. “This is related to the attack on a member of the Academy staff. We’re told to be on the lookout for an Awakened or someone with a reptiloid body. Though…the report indicated they had legs,” he added with an amused crease to his lips.

“Legs are great for stairs. Not so great for anything else,” Neska replied casually. She should have anticipated this after the attempt on Serkin–of course, the seekers would want to nose into this. Now they were uncomfortably close.

Internally, she debated how much she should hate these seekers on principle. The leader was an ass and immediately suspicious of them, lacking a single shred of any evidence of wrongdoing. The other three seemed far more polite.

“I like my legs. Good for kicking people or monsters in the gut,” Nevin said boldly. Syra stifled a laugh, startling the boy. “S-sorry, that might have been a bit bold. I’m only a few months into training, and have not seen too many monsters. Only Awakened.”

“Hey, we were humanoid. Before this, I was on the western coast, fishing and learning polearms,” Syra said, in an attempt to strike up a conversation. “You?”

“Getting told by my father I needed to go fight the good fight to be a man. He said that joining the seekers would take all the boyish softness out of me. It’s good discipline,” Nevin said. Derek chuckled softly at this rather awkward response.

“We’ll make a hunter out of him yet,” Ryan chimed in. Neska focused on him; he was a slightly older man with straw-like blonde hair. His nose had been broken at least once, and he removed his gloves, flexing his fingers as if holding the reins of his mount had fatigued him. “Tell me, have you faced combat before?”

“Me? Not enough. Her, definitely,” Syra said, gesturing to Neska.

Killing monsters and seekers alike. The latter, I could do less of, if they’d just be decent, damn human beings for once.

She stifled her internal strife and shrugged her shoulders. “Just doing my part. The Varadur have a lot to answer for.”

“That they do,” Derek said, gazing off to the North, as if he could see beyond the horizon. “Your proficiency?”

“Crowd control,” Neska said. “I have some rather…particular lamia powers, in addition to venoms and evasion abilities.”

“Aye. Well, for what it's worth,” he said, lowering his tone while the leader read through the papers, “Some in the seekers appreciate the work and sacrifices the Awakened have made.”

That threw Neska off. On the one hand, monsters bearing seeker appearances had murdered her witch. Neska still needed to settle that score and found herself hoping she had monsters to fight here. But this group didn’t have that sour scent the mimicoids did. They smelled normal. Except for Nevin, he apparently washed more often than the other three.

On the other hand, minus the lead officer, these three ran contrary to everything she’d witnessed before. She’d play this carefully, especially with onlookers from various villagers peeping from windows and watching warily from porches.

The older seeker kept giving them a sour look when he looked up from the papers, then returned them to Syra. “This is in order. But I’m not done asking questions. What was the purpose of your visit?”

“Visiting a friend,” Syra replied.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Is that all? You know the Varadur are getting sneaky. Bags. Now.”

No please. Just a demand and expectation of compliance, and an outstretched hand, fingers flexing as if he wanted them immediately. Neska saw Syra’s jaw clench, but she handed over her bag.

The man rifled through the contents before muttering something under his breath. He looked disappointed. “You too, snake,” he demanded. Behind him, the trainee looked distinctly uneasy, stance shifting and glancing at the two other men. Both of them glanced at each other and exchanged a slight shake of their heads.

This was not the proper procedure, and they knew it.

“It’s Miss Cassia, please,” Neska said in a neutral tone. A spreading spike of warmth spread along her body, and she felt an increasing urge to stand her ground and refuse. Not because she had nothing to hide, but that this man expected compliance because of a title and armor, or the weapon on his hip.

“I don’t give a shit what your name is. Bag, now.”

“Prelate Evin–”

Derek was met with a discourteous glare from the officer. “If I hear another word from you three, you’ll be cleaning out the goddamn stable for the griffins for a week,” the Prelate snarled.

What a bastard piece of work. She wanted more than anything to teach this man a lesson, but knew she couldn't, not this way. People watched the spectacle from the nearby houses, with mothers rushing their children inside with quiet urgency, as if they knew where this might lead. More men arrived from the nearby field, watching with interest, but kept the adolescent farm helpers from rushing in with an outstretched arm.

She handed him the bag, slowly. The Prelate snatched it away and, this time, tossed the contents on the ground as he examined them. Her alchemy textbook hit the ground, and papers fluttered. Rude, good thing I have nothing breakable in there.

“What’s this?” he asked, pointing to her map.

“Topographical survey for specific alchemical sources. It’s a survey for specific plants and herbs useful for specialized applications,” she answered in a vague way of describing ‘immensely potent toxins’.

The man tapped the hilt of his short sword resting on his hip, peering closely at the map, before letting it fall to the ground. He reached in again and grabbed the small cloth sack that Brienne had handed her. “And this?”

“Seeds, Prelate. For planting. We were looking to synergize the growth of certain plants adjacent to one another. The intent is to produce more herbs or provide mutual defense against pests,” she explained. He tilted his head, as if confused. “It’s just advanced gardening. It's a favor for our friend we met.”

“I think you’re full of shit,” he growled, glancing at the contents before pulling the drawstring tight and putting it back into the bag. But he held onto her backpack, one hand resting on his belt, close to his weapon. “Magic seeds, really?”

“They are from a nymph.” Neska felt that simmering anger within her was reaching a boil, one she tried to put a lid on internally. This man doesn’t want answers. He wants an excuse.

You won’t get one.

Derek interjected again, as if trying to diffuse the situation. “Prelate, would the Varadur walk right out in the open? I don’t think–”

“You’re not supposed to think, Seeker Derek, you’re supposed to follow orders. I do the thinking,” Evin snarled. He shoved the bag back into Neska’s hands, eyes locked on her. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing here? Mocking me?”

“I wouldn't dream of it. Everything I’ve said is a hundred percent true.” It was closer to ninety-nine percent, but twisted interpretations weren’t a lie in her mind.

Syra’s skin turned fluid, and she narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think–”

Neska gripped the elementa's shoulder and let out a soft hiss to cut her off. “We’ll be on our way. Thank you, Prelate. We have our studies to finish. I look forward to a day when we will be…working together.”

The man let out a sinister laugh. “I didn’t dismiss you. Uniforms.”

Syra gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Take 'em off. We need to search them for contraband.”

Syra glanced around, her reaction subdued. More people were gathering to watch from the nearby houses and shops. She continued in her neutral tone, arms folded. “You want me to strip my clothes off, here and now? Fuck off, pig.”

The man's gaze only intensified. There was something off about the way he looked at Syra. While her form was amorphous, her default form was visually appealing. The seeker’s eyes were alight at her reaction, and his smile was twisted. He enjoyed this abuse of power.

It was wrong. In every way.

“Prelate, this is not protocol,” Derek whispered next to the man. It was barely more than a breath of air, but Neska heard it.

“A professor–a humanoid, for Divines’ sake–almost died at the hands of an assassin, with probable inside help. We have discretion to conduct searches,” Evin stated as if it were boilerplate for him, whirling around and addressing Seeker Derek. The Prelate’s face was inches from Derek as he practically snarled. “Do you want to be responsible for letting the next one in?”

“I…no.” Derek’s courage faltered as Evin tapped his weapon while staring down his fellow Seeker.

The Prelate pointed at Syra again. “Uniform.”

Neska positioned herself between Syra and the Prelate, eyes narrowed. “We have nothing to hide, but I will not stand for this. We have our papers in order. You’re obliged to let us pass.”

“Nah. You’ve got ten seconds to start, or I can cut them off. Your call.”

She waited patiently for five seconds, remaining motionless. Then she arched her body higher, a low hiss underscoring her words. “I haven’t forgotten my humanity, Seeker. Have you?”

A spark of fury crossed his face, and he grabbed his weapon. “You mouthy bitch–”

By the time he got his weapon clear of its scabbard, Neska had set out her rules of engagement and was in motion.

The first rule: this seeker needed to leave this encounter breathing, which limited her options. That meant disabling him without permanently hurting him.

The second, and more flexible rule, was that Syra could not enter this battle without her direction, because she probably wouldn't hold back.

Neska activated her hat’s special ability, [Runic Barrier], with a charge of mana surging along her spine. A shimmering barrier of transparent blue hexagons formed a rough 120-degree arc in front of her, a few inches away from her body. The space between the hexagons was filled with golden threads forming the edges, reinforcing the powerful weave, just as the seeker’s weapon impacted.

A deafening ringing sound emanated from the blow, and the man recoiled backward, stumbling from the forceful feedback. Neska felt the impact from the attack spread across her body, but it felt no more intense than being shoved in a a kids' play match.

The other seekers shouted at the Prelate to stop. He ignored them and launched an attack again, swinging the weapon with force, just as Syra focused a cutting beam of water.

Neska’s roots intercepted the hydro cutter attack, and she wound her [Woven Root Hex] around the elementa, pinning her. She screamed in protest, while Neska swerved backward, dancing away from the blade as the seeker swung wildly, trying to chop her with his weapon.

He had an ill-suited weapon with limited range, considering she could easily arc her body away. At the same time, she shot roots out from the ground, twisting around his legs and entrapping him, and keeping him from lunging forward.

“What is wrong with you, Cassia? He attacked you!” Syra screamed, forming her body into her hydro shape and evading the roots. Neska made a second effort to put up a root wall, with Syra glaring at her. “You know you can’t stop me!”

Neska let out a soft tsk. Killing this murderous seeker justifiably in self-defense with a bunch of other seekers watching would not bode well for anyone. “Syra, don't. It’s handled.”

“Bullshit! It’s not handled! What is wrong with you people?!” she screamed, jabbing a finger at the seekers hovering on indecision, their weapons still not drawn, but that could change quickly. Water frothed from her fingertips, but Neska put out a hand of restraint. “Where is the due process?! Don’t get in my way, Cassia!”

“Trust me, I don’t really want to.” Neska glanced around, seeing if the other seekers wanted to jump in. So far, they hadn’t, and had their hands on their weapons. The recruit looked positively panicked, but Derek wore a calm expression, his jaw clenching tightly when he looked at the Prelate, who thought he was still in charge.

“Kill them, you useless crotch-stain virgin monster killers!” Evin screamed out, trying to wrest free of the vines snaring his ankles and wrists. Neska instead tightened their grip, and pain stretched across his face. “Don’t just stand there, she attacked me!”

“Seeker Prelate Evin, everything up to this point has been purely defensive,” Neska sighed, trying to keep her composure. Being the better woman here might serve its purpose in the long run. He responded with a string of profanities that were as rude as they were flavorful, mastered by years of putting down others. There was no reasoning with that one.

She still had an offramp with the other seeker, who had hesitated on his officer's order. “Seeker Derek, you look reasonable. I have no intention of harming him, unless he continues to pursue this reckless notion that we are dangerous.”

“We are dangerous,” Syra snapped, but made no motion to fire her hydro cutter.

“Not to our allies,” Neska reminded her. She felt the bile rise in her throat as she said that, but it was also necessary to show a position of restraint on her part. “I’m sliding out of here with my friend, and we are not to be further harassed. We will head directly to the academy campus. I will also be lodging a formal complaint–”

She sighed inwardly as Evin activated an Ability, and his body blurred. His sword arm sliced so fast that she barely saw the motion, even with her increased Perception. The sudden flurry of cuts rendered her restraining vines into mulch. He screamed and leaped toward her, blade moving almost faster than she could track.

Divines, you really are testing me to kill this idiot, aren’t you?

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