Chapter 149 - 150
"If you think that killing that bobcat warrants more stripes, don’t forget that you relied heavily on your magics to do so." Sighing, he fished a badge out from one of his pockets and tossed it at the boy. "For now, you’re a higher practitioner of the adept stratum. Happy?"
"But I’m at least a peak practitioner. I know fourth-tier techniques!"
Tramon wanted to shake his head, but held off. Alistar’s current badge was only that of a third-tier apprentice, and he was complaining about being promoted an entire stratum?
"You’re never satisfied, are you?"
"Ah, my apologies, Master. I’ve shown you an unpleasant side of me."
"How many times do I have to tell you? Your manners have no place here, boy. Especially when they’re half-hearted." Walking over to the crate of whiskey, Tramon pried it open with a sturdy finger and then fished a small, mahogany box out of the hay within. "Here," he said, handing it to Alistar. "I had to go all way to Valay to get it. You should be grateful to the cold, else it would’ve long since decayed."
The box had a magical seal on it that prevented any leakage of the aura within. Thanking him, Alistar opened the box and nearly dropped it, his eyes wide with a grim sort of astonishment. Within the box was a severed hand, the fingers of which were adorned with many rings.
"Do you know whose that was?"
"This...this is...Uncle Antoine’s..."
Tramon let out a loud laugh. "Not anymore, it isn’t."
It had been quite difficult to retrieve, but only because he’d had to pick a moment when the shrewd duke was alone, in this case while he had been bathing. To his credit, Antoine hadn’t so much as flinched when his hand had suddenly fallen from his arm, and he’d even prepared to level his own castle in an attempt to return the favour. Unfortunately, his dear concubine had walked in at that moment, and in order to preserve her life the man had reluctantly backed down. Tramon wouldn’t have killed her, of course, but Antoine had had no way of knowing that.