The Apprentice of Ouroboros [Monster Evo LitRPG Adventure]

Right. Appearances. Can’t just bag this guy yet; I need to find means and motives for why he’s helping off a griffin. Hadley smiled politely. “It’s an honor to meet you, Milord.”

“And likewise,” Renly Marisano said, giving Jurik a firm handshake, and when Hadley did the same, he bowed and offered to kiss her hand.

She froze for a split second. Ew. Gross. Please no. She hated the aristocracy. All these useless gestures of formality were like a giant game to them, a game she did not understand the rules of. There were other things she'd rather kiss up to, like something with big, nasty, pointy teeth. At least with monsters, you knew what you were getting.

"Enchanted,” she said with a forced smile, shoving her revulsion deep down. “And you are?” she asked, gesturing to the son.

“Gregory Marisano. Apologies for the appearance, I had a small accident while working on something in the workshop,” he said as he shook her hand. His grip certainly felt weak on his bandaged hand.

More interesting. She could smell the injury, and it wasn’t good. Something was festering. Huh, tried to bind that without any antiseptic? Tell me you didn’t at least try to use a regenerative potion? The boy was young and likely didn’t know better, or worse, didn’t want to reveal the true origin of his injury. That was something she might be able to leverage, and Jurik followed her gaze.

The veteran cleared his throat gently. “We're here on Academy business, Lord Marisano. I wanted to inform you that we’re taking every precaution for students in light of the recent breach. However, there are some things I'm following up on, and there is a belief that other prominent contributors to the Academy's standing and faculty may be targeted. I was hoping you might be able to fill me in on some information.”

“Oh? You came all this way to ask a few questions?” Lord Marisano's expression was undiscernible. “Did you come to ask me which person has knives out for the Academy, and everything they do? Because I could tell you right now who they are: the elite.”

Hadley feigned ignorance. “The elite? That's a vague, non-specific threat if I ever heard of one. You know, there’s a monster incursion going on, where our adversaries are only getting smarter and more dangerous as the years go by. I think you have a skewed sense of existential threats.”

Marisano clapped his son’s shoulder, smiling proudly. “I’m not worried about the monsters! We’ve endured several thousand years of magical disasters, monsters, and even invasions from other realms. Through it all, we’ve stood tall! We’ll beat these monsters back into the ruins of Arivol, and we’ll burn them all out ourselves! And after that…well, hopefully we tie up loose ends.”

He glanced at his son, his contempt for his father's grandstanding on plain display. “Gregory, why don’t you talk to the chef and have her prepare something? Make it something light.”

“But, Father–” the son’s protest fell short when his father gave him a baleful eye, and he fell silent. “Right away. What will you have? We have quite the selection.”

“Uh…just tea for me,” Hadley asked politely. “Jurik?”

“Tea works. Any honey for a sweetener?”

“From the local farms, of course.” Gregory bowed and disappeared down the hall. Once he was gone, his father’s contemptuous look faded.

“I apologize for my son. He worries for his brother. Moreso after the missus passed away two years ago,” Marisano said, in a decidedly more somber tone.

“My condolences, Milord." Jurik bowed his head in respect. “If I may ask…was she unwell?”

“No. Sadly, an industrial accident. She was brilliant, working on magical tech even I could barely keep up with. She is–”

He turned his head, wincing. “I apologize. I find it difficult to speak about. You understand, yes? Family is important. I won’t lie, we competed against each other at Rivilat Academy, nearly twenty-five years ago. But love sometimes blooms between rivals, and my wife's knowledge of magical tech and its applications was how I was besmitten by her. That continued even to the day of her demise. I’d warned her to be cautious with a new device. Even with precautions…things can go wrong.”

He shook his head. “Which is why it’s all the more important to ensure that my children are taken care of. I know people speak of me behind my back: that I control their every action. That couldn't be further from the truth: I've prepared them the best I can for a cutthroat, heartless world where victories and triumphs are hard-earned and never handed out."

"How noble of you." Hadley remained skeptical; her father had been a man with all the emotion of a stone, but he was a good teacher, and taught her lessons of survival she took to heart. She knew he cared, even if he didn't show it.

From what Hadley knew of the nobility, there were two groups: those who inherited land and titles, and those who could be granted honoraries, such as the title of Baron. The King of Valos, Theros the Second, was effectively a figurehead, and the bulk of major decisions for the Kingdom were run by a council that convened regularly. The group included several members of the Academy, high-ranking military officers, a treasurer, and an infrastructure engineer. The judicial system also took a seat at the table. The King did have some say on when to enact military measures, but usually through the consensus of the others.

Lord Marisano was the former of the two groups, and had likely inherited his title and access to this manor and lands through lineage. Given the state of the manor, which had been built up over decades as the family's wealth and influence grew, the title was well-earned.

Hadley shook her head. She might have a little more respect for this man. “Milord, then you understand that the safety of all Academy members, both staff and students, is our priority. We believe the assassin was using sophisticated equipment for his alchemy and poisoning techniques. We were wondering if you might know of any recipients of said magical tech.”

“Oh, but must we dive into questioning?” the lord protested, but let out a harumph. “Well, I suppose. First, tell me, what have you discovered about the assassin?”

“I’m afraid I can’t divulge much about the ongoing investigation. We are currently following leads, and shielding our investigation from those that might tip off the assailant,” Jurik said diplomatically. “But please, I’m curious. You think one of the elite could have done this? Why? Professor Serkin was loved by many.”

“It’s not about one professor. It’s about maneuvers that most people cannot see,” he said sternly.

“But we have a witness alleging the attacker was either a sympathizer for the Varadur, or one of their agents,” Jurik countered. “Care to elaborate?”

“Oh, absolutely. Plenty of people use the Academy as their place to settle grudges. Sometimes, those grudges involve collateral. And it has been that way since long before the Varadur." Marisano seemed absolutely convinced of this theory.

He pointed to a large painting above a fireplace mantle, filled with various family crests and mythical creatures. “See these? These are the coats of arms of all the major households of Valos. You have the Stoltz family and the Marisano family here. Others include the Ravencrests, the Agathars, and the Renshrak family line. Most people don’t know about it, because they can’t comprehend the why.”

“And what is the ‘why’ of things? Should we not all be working together to eliminate or bring the Varadur to the negotiating table?” Jurik asked calmly. It was as if he never wavered in the face of belligerent or charismatic men. “I apologize if I sound blunt. The tiffs between the nobility and the elite haven’t concerned me in years. I’ve spent most of it on the front lines, battling the Varadur. The Awakened have been instrumental in holding the line."

“Ah, now you’re getting into it.” Marisano waved to the manor in a sweeping gesture. “Money is the answer, money and influence. When we beat the Varadur--not if we do, but when--there will be an expansive reconstruction effort through three kingdoms, and whatever's left of the tundra tribes and the other former vassal states of Arivol."

Hadley decided to test that theory. “Speaking of money, is that observatory for show?” she asked innocently.

“No. It is a precision instrument that my father constructed out of the old chapel tower. It was a place of prayer for the Divines. Now it's a way to see them a little closer in the constellations. One of many technical and magical marvels my family has innovated over the years. Sadly, my time with astronomy and star-gazing has been limited of late.”

He pointed to Jurik’s lapel. “My grandfather pioneered the original arcane relay. My father dabbled in securing it so no one could listen while people's words were in transit. I also upgraded it to transmit multiple signals, meaning they were no longer limited to a single pairing, drastically increasing cost-effectiveness and opening brand new markets. I understand it has also provided some tactical benefit to soldiers in the field. This was a magical feat unheard of ten years ago, based on synchronizing the precise frequency at which the multiple crystals resonate. That was a tough problem to crack.”

“Impressive," Jurik murmured. Hadley was halfway interested, but still couldn't get the juxtaposition of this boar of a man with such a large physical force, also having the mind of an intellect.

Marisano detailed several families, while Jurik took notes. Some of it was familiar to Hadley: the Ravencrests had made rapid advances in mass-produced alchemy, with higher-grade potions. The Agathars had used classes such as druids and rangers strategically to improve crop yields and reduce losses from pests and parasites. The Rashalda family was one of the few families to negotiate successfully with dragons to aid in forging equipment heat-resistant enough to melt specialty alloys.

The son returned, though he nearly dropped the tea tray as he set it down. If it weren’t for Hadley's last-minute save, it would have landed on the floor.

Nope. It wasn't her imagination–his arm was definitely infected. “You know, you might want to check that bandage; it could be bad enough for a health potion if it’s bothering you."

He huffed and looked indignant. “I’m quite fine, thank you.” The smell of the infection, however, told a different story.

The senior Marisano continued while sampling the tea, along with some dry, salty crackers served with fruit spread. They were quite good, and the tea had a lovely aroma to it–not just tea leaves, but just a touch of other spices to entice her, including a bit of cinnamon.

Marisano continued his discussion. “Generally…these families, and others, have contended for lucrative contracts for manufacturing and production of goods. For a long time, it was considered acceptable to seek an edge–convenient marriages to certain families to pry secrets away, hostile takeovers…a little sabotage, on occasion,” he added, rolling his eyes on that last one.

“We compete for priority, for favor with the Valos court, as our families have votes on the day-to-day activities of the Ruling Council. The common denominator is that most of our families are either sponsoring or have their members as faculty or students within the Academy. Sometimes our private spats are resolved there.”

“How utterly petty,” Hadley commented sourly.

“It’s just the way it is. I’ve tried to teach my children the necessity of seizing opportunities and knowing their rivals. But my son Trevor likes books and the study of the arcane. He does not care for empire-building or industry. Though I suppose I can respect his desire for independence, especially if he becomes a tinkerer in various magical tech applications.

“Anyway, the point being, is that some families do not like the Awakened that have taken up residence. They’ve upset the balance of the prodigies and mainstays of the noble families. Some have previously gone to some lengths to…reclaim that priority.”

“In what way?” Jurik inquired, still writing.

“Sending reminders to the staff that the status quo needs to remain,” Marisano said darkly. “I don’t claim to be a perfect man, but I see no merit in sabotage, especially if it could endanger others.”

“And who do you suspect?” Jurik asked.

“The Stoltz family. They’ve always been aggressive in asserting their will on the staff and the Council. They've aggressively negotiated contracts for shipments to the Academy, alchemical provisions, you name it. They get a permanent vote on various procedures, and other houses align with them. They are very influential. Even more so, their youngest son is an Awakened with a fiery temper and literal fire powers.

“I’d suspect Ravencrest, too. Serkin once offended them by debunking some of their research into souls as nothing more than pseudoscience. He was not subtle in calling them out for trying to rush research without due diligence. His rebuke was not well-received."

"You know him?" Hadley zeroed in.

"Of course," he huffed. "I attended the campus. I visited there frequently with my children. Goodness, I'm grateful the man still lives, but, to be attacked on the campus? It's terrible!"

And you have nothing to say about harboring reptilian assassins and dead griffins? Hadley dug her fingers into her thigh to maintain composure. She glanced at the son, who had a minimalist presence and was likely here only because his father wanted him here.

The conversation drifted, with Jurik focusing on specific families, their affiliations, and the students in the school. It was informative for her to know the children of such influential families.

“You know, the assailant was spotted headed in this direction,” Jurik added suddenly, after pocketing his notebook. Lord Marisano raised a brow. “Turns out witnesses spotted it going north by west, from the campus.”

“There are a lot of places to hide in the hills and forests,” he shrugged. “Tell me, what kind of griffin was it?”

“Snow white, black banding. A perfect example of the Iskandarian griffin,” Jurik said, in a subtle nudge. Hadley took that as her cue that he knew, too. “It's harder for them to hide around here during the summer months. Sometimes they also coat their wings and bodies in mud to hide better. Quite an adaptation.”

He glanced at his son, who remained emotionless. It only lasted a second, but Hadley saw his hand twitch. The senior Marisano returned his attention to her and Jurik, shaking his head.

“No. But, I can inform my estate staff to keep an eye out.”

“I see. Well, thank you for your time,” Jurik said, and made a subtle motion to Hadley, pointing to the window out the back of the estate.

Twisted dark-barked trees formed a small grove inside the estate walls. She recognized them. But how to get a closer look?

Then the idea hit her, based on this man’s demonstrated boasting and showmanship. “Actually, I have a question,” Hadley said, clapping her hands together. “That dracoranth outside, that is quite a sight! It’s quite a prized specimen!”

“Oh, you like it, do you?” Marisano grinned and rose from his seat. “How about a quick trip outside to see her, before you make your way back to the campus?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose–”

“Nonsense, no imposing at all! Burnette is a lovely creature. The young missus loves riding it, as she’s training to be an airborne ranger. What an animal to bond to,” he added as an aside.

Hadley smiled. “Alright then, let’s go take a look.”

Her mistake was trusting the lord when he suggested she ride the creature, that it would be a gentle ride.

It wasn’t.

But goodness, was it both exciting and terrifying at the same time. She let out a whoop of delight as the creature dove back toward the ground, and she dug her feet into the stirrups. The buckles of the restraining harness pressed tight under the force, and she angled the reins left for the creature to bank left.

She deliberately banked low to examine the trees. With her [Eagle Eye] ability activated, she could make out incredible detail, boosting her perception attribute by a massive amount, and enabling her to see faint magical auras.

Not only that, she saw several scrapings on the bark. And recently, too: the sap looked like molasses in composition, and formed a jelly-like scab over the wound in the bark.

The examination took mere seconds, and she continued her flight with the dracoranth, that rush of excitement settling to something more manageable. She saw Lord Marisano looking quite pleased, but his son wore a tight grimace, clutching his hands together and possibly praying silently to one of the Divines.

She couldn’t read lips well, but she did see his worry. “Alright, Burnette, down we go, girl,” Hadley instructed, pulling the reins to signal a descent. Within a minute, she braced forward as the creature landed with a scuffing of talons into the grass, rearing its body and flaring its wings to come to a complete stop.

Jurik stood stoically, arms folded and looking proud. “So how does she handle?” he asked.

“Like a dream,” Hadley said, letting out an anxious giggle. It helped deflect from her all-but-confirmed findings that Neska, indeed, had nailed it with her divination efforts to find the killer, or at least, where he had travelled to. “Milord, it was a pleasure, thank you.”

He shied away, looking bashful. “Oh, it’s nothing. She can support my weight plus the saddle, so I spend quite a bit of time with her, plus training her--it took a lot of trial and error. It’s a shame you can’t stay; it has been an interesting day.”

“We do have to report back,” Jurik reminded him. “All business today, Lord Marisano. You’ve given us a few leads to consider. The assailant did, indeed, have connections and a means to enter and exit the campus. Resources that few could put together competently. Well, shall we, Hadley?”

“We shall. Gregory, you should get your arm checked,” she said in a subtle nod. “Wounds like that, if blood, dirt, or saliva get into them, can lead to gangrene and rot within a day or two. A health poultice may suffice. You may want to try king's weed and spigga shoots, ground to a paste and applied over the wound with a clean bandage. They clear out infections and have anti-inflammatories, too.”

“I…will take that under advisement,” he stammered out. “Ser, Madam, have a good day. I hope you find this would-be killer soon.”

Moments later, with them mounted and the gates now closed behind them, Hadley waited until they were well out of earshot. Better to be sure than not, and she sensed no one in the woods to either side. She couldn’t account for magical surveillance, but that would require a greater effort.

“Marisano’s son was the one who killed the griffin. That cut on his arm is festering because the griffins talons are like disease magnets. I don’t think his father knows. We can take them in–”

“No.” Jurik’s counter was forceful. “That man had two guards at the gate, and at least three patrols. I think he also has a local mercenary guild under his employ, based on that display of wealth. We’re not ‘taking him in’ on that alone. It could be just the son."

She gripped the horse's reins, glancing at him. “No way a man that dominates his kids like that wouldn't be aware of what they were up to, or he sanctioned them to do so."

"Either way, we need a full task force to execute a judge's warrant. The Law of Presumed Innocence still applies. For what little good it does, keeping the Seekers and others in check," Jurik said sourly.

"Okay, good point. Probably wouldn't go well. Can we get the Valos military to issue a warrant?”

“Maybe. But we have no assassin. Only where he was working out of.” Jurik cast a glance back. “I think they’re being forced to cooperate. Or the son is, at least. He was uneasy the entire time."

“Why?”

“I’m wondering if the assassin ever left the Academy. He already demonstrated command over shadows and evasion abilities. If you saw a person take off toward the valley…where’s the last place you would look?” Jurik reasoned.

“You think our person of interest never left? Ballsy. And I know it's been mentioned that the entire plateau is like Fromon cheese: full of holes and bad smells,” Hadley concluded. “Interesting, he mentioned Kasfew. I know Neska hates that bird. Maybe there’s substance here to pin this on him, too.”

"But not intent. I think we need to present our findings first before reaching conclusions. I’m hopeful that our…package will prove useful.”

Hadley glanced at his saddlebag, disgusted at this idea. “This is why witches get bad vibes, Jurik. We bring them dead things, and then they do freaky things with them. We’re going to owe our lamia big-time for dealing with this one.”

Hadley glanced up and ahead to the village of single-story homes and a small lumberyard at the crossroads. A small river had a barge loaded with large logs, with men covered in a sweaty sheen. The workday was nearly over as they fastened ratchet straps and metal buckles over the logs to secure them on the barge, a black smokestaff puffing out steam and small blue sparks of arcane energy.

She kept getting the feeling they were being followed, constantly feeling a flicker of motion at the corner of her eye. When she focused on it, it faded just as quickly as they passed a small alley by a row of buildings nearby.

She would have thought it was Rose, but the girl was too young to use advanced abilities to fool the perceptive scout. This was a hole in her senses, a gap.

That void in her perception bothered her the entire ride back. As the walls of Rivilat grew taller before them, she knew their work was just getting started.

And getting more complicated by the day.