(47)
It was perhaps for the best that Shinran had other engagements the following day, or nobody could have dragged Nestra away from the other battle maniac’s mansion. She wanted more. She was desperate for more. The missions were fun and interesting and more importantly, they were perfectly adjusted to her level. Well, maybe except for the social missions. Portal worlds were definitely more raw. Mostly, they told someone to go from point A to point B in a relatively smart way, and that was it. The one advantage they had was that they were real with real monsters, and as such her essence could eagerly swallow that of its monsters, which provided her with improvements and resistances.
Nestra found herself drawn in three different directions. She wanted to work with the city, because she was curious about Fox Mask and, well, she had a chip on her shoulder if she had to be honest. Another part of her wanted the carefully curated lessons offered by Shinran: a way to hone her techniques. It was something she had loved since she’d started to practice with a sword, that exhilarating feeling of making real progress. The third direction was purely Aszhii. This one wanted to raid, again and again, become so strong and resilient that an army couldn’t stop her, feed off the cores of the vanquished. All three reflected various aspects of her personality. All three were within her grasp. She merely had to choose.
Time felt like her greatest enemy.
Ok so she had to choose but there was a schedule, so since Shinran was out, raiding and training it was. She spent half a day reviewing security protocol, then pulled the public files of the people who were going to be on the expedition. It wasn’t complete because some of the candidates were still being picked. She still learned a lot. Ilar wasn’t just bringing good negotiators. He was also bringing quite a few heavy hitters. If things got… complicated, there was a good chance the Threshold delegation could turn the entire mountain summit to slag before being taken down. The Enclavers would know it. They would understand the message behind it: we don’t trust you and we’re not impressed by you.
It was weird how this diplomatic meeting was set up to be as undiplomatic as humanly possible. Nestra wondered how much of Ragnarok’s influence was at play here. Mayor Kim’s party was pretty neutral, enclaves-wise. The government was focusing on resurrecting international trade at the moment. Old Steel She-Wolf though? She’d made her opinion of gleam mob bosses pretty clear.
Nestra wondered if her mask would survive the expedition unscathed. It made things pretty exciting, to be honest. She should still use the time she had to grow as strong as possible. As her Dad always said: Those who quote ‘Fortune favors the bold’ have the shortest life expectancy. Fortune favored the prepared mind, and the prepared body. Nestra might not be the sharpest broadsword in the arsenal, but she was pretty good at consistent efforts. It was time to put it to good use.
***
Three months later.
The shadow core pulsed idly in the chamber of Nestra’s mind palace, mirroring her improved control. She called power, the mana coiling around her arm like a snake. This shadow wasn’t the hungry beast Tenneru had wielded like a living thing. Nestra had no need for more offensive power. Instead, her shadows were a prowling, hungry thing. They envied. They hid. They stole.