Novel Full Chapter 834: Sibling Squabble
Chapter 834: Chapter 834: Sibling Squabble
Ronan woke with his sheets damp, the salty taste of tears still clinging to his mouth. He hadn’t slept well—every creak of the floorboards, every rattle of wind against the window had felt like someone standing over him. When dawn finally pried his eyes open, he felt no relief. His body was heavy, his head a fog, and the memory of locking eyes with the target at the soup shop kept replaying until his stomach churned.
One silver lining though, whether it was in his own head or not, was that he no longer had the persistent feeling of being watched.
He forced himself to wash, dress, and eat a crust of bread that tasted like dust. His nerves jolted every few minutes, expecting a hand to fall on his shoulder, or a voice to suddenly question him. Nothing came. Yet the absence of danger was almost worse, like waiting for the axe to drop.
It wasn’t until midmorning that he remembered the token. The small object rested in the pocket of his discarded clothes from yesterday, untouched, and for a long time he didn’t want to touch it. But orders were orders. They’d been told to link with their partners, establish a shared channel so they could coordinate and now was the time they’d initially agreed to exchange information yesterday. With a shaky breath, he pressed his spiritual power into the sigil.
Two faint pulses answered. Then voices bloomed in his head, disembodied yet unmistakably alive.
“Looks like it worked,” one said, gruff, older, most likely the broad-shouldered man Ronan had seen* *in the room. “We can hear each other?”
“Clear as day,” came the second. A woman’s tone—confident, controlled, maybe used to command. “That makes three of us.”
Ronan swallowed before adding his own. “…I hear you.”
“Good,” the woman said. “Then we’ll keep it simple. We don’t share names, and I guess we only need to share non-identifying information that wouldn’t lead back to our real identities. Orders were clear.”
“Fine by me,” the man replied. “But we should talk about the obvious. That mission. They expect us to bring down a six-star beast tamer? That’s suicide.”
Silence stretched a moment. Then the woman broke it. “Not suicide if we’re smart. Remember, Dar- ahem ’that man’ said we can ask for materials. If we request the right equipment—poisons, traps, maybe something specialized he has in mind—we might not need to face him directly. Hit him where he least expects it.”
’Dar?’ Did this woman perhaps no the masked man’s true identity. But then Ronan processed the rest of her statement and his gut turned cold. This lunatic actually wanted to try and complete the full mission?
The man snorted. “Hah. I saw a 5-star beast tamer in action once. His contract was like a walking natural disaster, even capable to affecting the weather in a small area. I can’t even imagine the strength of a 6-star tamer, nor do I ever want to see it for myself. There is no way we can take him down with a few ropes and kitchen knives. It’d be like ants trying to take down an elephant.”
The woman chuckled lightly. “Still…In high enough numbers, or with a strong enough weapon like poison, it’s not impossible for an ant to kill an elephant. We may not have the numbers—heck, even a thousand ordinary people would probably be crushed by a 6-star tamer—but who knows, maybe Dar- ahem ’that man’ had a poison in mind? If they give us something real, we weigh the risks. If not, intel only.”
“Fair,” the man said. “So, do we just keep walking around praying the guy drops out of the sky in front of us?”
“Pretty much,” the woman answered dryly. “Unless you’ve got a magic map in your back pocket or the target somehow just falls into your lap.”
That earned a laugh from the man, though it sounded more bitter than amused. “Wonderful. Three ordinary fools playing hide-and-seek with a monster.”
They were about to sign off, their tones turning resigned, when Ronan—who had been silent almost the entire exchange—suddenly blurted, “…I, um, might have already seen him.”
The connection froze. Dead silence. Then two voices erupted at once:
“—And you’re just saying this now?!”
“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?!”
Ronan winced, clutching the token tighter. He could almost feel their outrage crashing into him through the link, and his stomach dropped as he realized he’d just made his nightmare ten times worse.
———————–
Back at Dark Moon, Kain had been sinking into the thick of school life again. Classes, research, even increasing the amount of times he went hunting to rack up more Source Points.
He didn’t need the Source Points for any pressing issue, Pange didn’t need a new intelligent species yet—the elves were still adjusting, and the introducing the more powerful species was still far beyond his current funds—but he stockpiled them anyway.
Sometimes he used them for tempting items in the weekly System shop refresh. Other times, he burned them on rare lab equipment like the evolution simulator to try and create more evolutionary patents (especially since he tasted the sweetness of a sudden influx of Source Points from people exchanging his evolutionary plans) or rebooting the now dusty genetic reconstructor.
Since he’d used the Genetic Reconstructor early on to genetically edit the Aetherbrew Yeast so it couldn’t multiply without Queen’s Royal Jelly—a safeguard that had kept competitors from bootlegging his beer no matter how many vials they stole— he’d barely used it until recently since he’d been so busy.
His latest obsession was with microbes. Since gaining access to the relic the College uncovered from the Celestial Ascension period—a treasure trove of microorganisms where he had first contracted Aegis—Kain had been experimenting nonstop. Some modified strains showed promise of expanding his business operations to include spiritual wines, cheeses, even fermented condiments. Others were failures, dangerous mutations he shelved without a second thought.
Oddly enough, he found himself going home more often too. The lurking presence of the Black Dawn ’Knight’ made him antsy and so he visited home more often, but it pleased his relatives. They didn’t complain about his extra visits.
Well except for one person, strangely enough…
One evening, Kain stood outside against Cherry’s closed door. “You know,” he said loudly enough for her to hear through the door, “my adorable little sister who used to think her big brother could lift the sun into the sky is now acting like a brooding teenager and telling him to go away. Tragic. Truly tragic. I’m heartbroken.” He wiped at his eye in mock sorrow.
He could hear Cherry bolt upright from where she was sitting on the bed before the door slammed open to reveal her cheeks puffed red. “You’re so annoying!”
Kain gasped theatrically once he could see through the open doorway. “There’s no way this is Cherry’s room. It’s… clean. The desk is tidy. No snack wrappers, no socks that could qualify as smelly chemical weapons. Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
“Shut up!” Cherry grabbed the nearest object—a hairbrush—and brandished it like a dagger. “Say one more word and I swear—”
“Alright, alright!” Kain raised both hands quickly. “Mercy! Just… put the dangerous weapon down first. I was only joking.”
She huffed and dropped it onto the bed. “The orphanage director lectured me for two and a half hours yesterday about cleaning up. Two and a half. I wasn’t about to let him get on my case again.”
Kain smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “So it took the orphanage director’s wrath to finally get you to clean your room. Duly noted. Although Gabriel may be able to trigger the same effect in you without the two hour lecture.” Kain teased.
But Cherry’s bad mood wasn’t purely teenage angst, though Kain’s relentless teasing didn’t help. In truth, she was jealous—and now a little afraid.
Every time Kain came home, Gabriel dropped everything to spend time with him. Cultivation advice, whispered conversations about things she wasn’t privy to, secrets that needed higher levels of spiritual power to even discuss.
Cherry knew Gabriel’s spiritual power due to the experiments he underwent while kidnapped was ridiculously high, and she suspected he might have even awakened as a beast tamer (though neither of the two jerks keeping secrets from her confirmed it!).
Still, she was always pushed out when Kain visited. And worse, Kain—annoyingly sharp as always—had likely noticed her crush on Gabriel. That fear of being exposed made her want him around even less!
Cherry didn’t bother answering Kain’s teasing about her crush with words. She launched the hairbrush she just put down like a ninja throwing star. Kain’s grin widened; as a 5-star beast tamer the ’weapon’ was like a snails speed in his eyes. Completely harmless. He made the motion to sidestep.
Then he froze.
The brush—small, ridiculous, utterly harmless—smacked into his cheek with a dull slap.
Cherry’s face crumpled. For a blink she looked as if she’d struck herself. “Oh god—Kain, I’m—” She scrambled to her feet, panic turning her voice into sharp, guilty syllables. “I didn’t mean—are you okay? I’m so sorry.”
Kain put a hand to his face and felt nothing but warm skin. He let out a soft laugh that was more a breath than mirth. “It’s fine,” he said, a tone that suggested he’d not even noticed the blow. The feedback from his contract with Aegis made his flesh far more resistant to household projectiles than most people’s.
Cherry hovered, indecisive between fury and remorse. “You’re… you’re not even hurt?” she demanded, then worried, “Did I—did I hit you too hard?”
He waved her off, but his eyes were elsewhere, distant as if he were reading a page only he could see. “Darius and the others finally found the Knight,” he muttered under his breath.