Chapter 571 - Offers and inquisitions.

You have destroyed 11 Sheets of Spiritually enhanced parchment.

Flesh Sculptor Skillcheck: Critical success!

You have successfully infused Black Sea Spirit Beast hide infused with runes of Strength and Resilience with Spiritually Dense Highland Sigil Ink!

You have successfully transcribed Adept Tier Sigils for Strength / Endurance / Consumption & Sea!

You have successfully transcribed Journeyman Tier Sigils for Extraplanar & Vastness.

Highland Sigil Scribing is now Rank 4!

You have EFFORTLESSLY transcribed all known Crimson Sigils!

You have forgone the use of priceless ink gifted to you!

You have used a drop of your own blood RICH with the Essence of Dominion to transcribe MASTERWORK sigils incorporating your entire Crimson lexicon!

Crimson Sigil Scribing is now Rank 12!

Eric sighed and leaned back, ignoring the pile of burnt ash that had been priceless Qi-enhanced vellum, and focusing instead on the dozen or so thin sheets of what no doubt would appear to most as simple sharkskin, yet was enhanced by his own runes and Flesh Sculptor skills to be nearly indestructible. Or at least able to hold the twin pairs of sigil lexicons he was diligently trying to master.

He had, of course, been afraid of interference from multiple arts being used to prepare the sea beast hide, including Flesh Sculptor with obvious necromantic (crafting!) ties and of course his own runic lexicon. Yet the interference was, thankfully, minimal. More like a background static than anything warping his arts in any direction, and almost effortless to power through with even the tiniest hint of potency or mastery infused into his art. Like pressing the tip of his quill just a bit more firmly to really gain traction on vellum.

Of course the actual vellum he had first experimented with had burst into icy flame, and he still wasn’t sure if that was an odd expression of his own talents or standard for spiritual treasures. Either way, nothing but smokeless ashes remained.

But he chose not to focus on failures but to instead take joy in his success!

His gazed fondly at his final set of Highland Sigils, which he had copied upon the first shark hide several dozen times, truly doing his utmost to truly understand the flow of Spiritual Energy before transcribing a final copy onto a fresh sharkskin hide. He sensed that his mastery over the glowing white sigils had already grown another rank, and he was more than eager to learn additional sigils… or to truly learn even the ritual he had witnessed, and how sigils from those three separate disciplines interacted and complemented one another.

He then took a fresh sip of Fizzy, gazing fondly at his true prize.

The single sharkskin sheet he had used to effortlessly imprint his entire Crimson Sigil lexicon. Flowing so easily from his fingertip that it had been like a dream. Where even the most comfortable Highland Sigil, Strength, had been easy enough to transcribe, the Crimson Sigils had flowed as easily as a dream.

Struck by sudden inspiration, he put his quill down, simply willing the blood to drip forth from his fingertip onto the sharkskin.

His eyes widened with fierce vindication and triumph when the blood flowed to mirror the crimson sigils blazing with such pristine clarity in his mind.

A full set of Masterwork-Tier sigils. Created not in minutes… but in a scarce handful of seconds. And radiating so much power and potential that it left him breathless, all but tasting how deeply his own Blood Mastery skill, and shockingly enough, an additional 75 Ranks of Master Necromancer, further boosted the power of his glowing glyphs.

And the steep price in Soul Reserves had been cut to just a fourth of what it otherwise would have been, the Crimson Orb whirling like a blur around his temples showing its worth, even here.

Which meant that his desk-sized sheet was now radiating a shocking amount of power, and not the clean, pristine, and utterly orthodox Highland Sigil type, either.

So perhaps he shouldn’t have been quite so alarmed when a short, sharp knock rattled his door, before it abruptly sprung open.

Quickness Check: Success!

“Eric, is everything alright?”

Eric turned in his seat and bowed low, fists to chest. “This humble student of the way greets the honorable and esteemed Sophia Kahn.”

Eric didn’t bother looking up until her heard her snort. “Awfully formal, nephew.”

He rose with a smile. “It’s good to see you, aunty. How was your lesson with Louise?”

She smirked. “You say that with such sincerity, I’d almost think you weren’t hiding so many delicious secrets.”

Eric’s smile didn’t waver. “Of course I am. And I still hold you in the highest regard.”

She tilted her head, though her smile was now definitely teasing. “And why is that, nephew?”

“Because you’re serving as my sister’s mentor and are perhaps my foster mother’s best hope.”

Intent eyes locked with her own, Eric wondering if she even knew who her ancestor was.

“And you’ve given her one more reason to smile. Such a delightful foster child who knows how to make our two alien girls laugh and feel welcome. And don’t think that I don’t sense how you subtly goad Louise on to push herself to best you, however she can. As if she had even the slightest chance of such.”

Eric suppressed a wince as her hawklike gaze spied the treasures he hadn’t been able to make disappear in an eyeblink. Yet as much as his anxiety spiked, what he felt most was awed gratitude that his crimson sigil sheet had disappeared as quickly as a Soulbound prize might. But perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, having infused so much power into that artifact… using it to master sigils of blood, which tied so intimately with so many of his powers and abilities.

Yet still… as was evidenced by Sophia’s awed gasp, his other prizes had not gone unnoticed.

“Eric Carpenter, are you actually learning to master formation sigils?”

Eric gave an embarrassed chuckle. “Hardly master, Aunty. It would be fairer to call me a rank apprentice.”

She solemnly shook her head flowing over to his desk and carefully examining the topmost beast hide sheet. “No, Eric. This is a Highland Sigil art! One I’m at least familiar with, even if I haven’t walked a formation master’s path. Still, even I’m not blind to the pristinely balanced Spiritual Energy radiating from each of these sigils. Their perfectly symmetrical forms… How they glow from within.”

Her eyes positively twinkled as she gazed Eric’s way. “Eric, with this much talent… I think there’s a way forward, for you, regardless of the state of your Dragon Gates.”

Eric froze, heart hammering in his chest. “Wait, are you saying… do you mean…”

She solemnly nodded her head. “Yes, Eric. With this much potential, there’s no way that the right sect wouldn’t be interested in sponsoring you. To walk a formation master’s path at the very least, even if your meridians…”

Eric winced. “Yeah.”

This earned a teasing smile. “Darling boy with the body of an Adonis who has actually managed to use his lymphatic system to cycle his Qi! You have no reason to complain, and you—”

She stiffened then, eye’s widening in alarm as she took a good look at the sharkskin sheet now in her hands.

When she turned her gaze to him it was no longer that of an aunt… but a predator sighting her prey. An inquisitor who would do whatever it took to flense even the bitterest truth from the warm dripping love and lies and blubbering flesh that surrounded it.

“This is an enchanted sharkskin, Eric. Radiating magics that have absolutely nothing to do with highland arts.”

“True.”

“Where did you get this?”

“I prepared it myself.”

The air trembled with the sudden flare of her killing aura.

“Don’t toy with me, boy. Not with this! This is the skin of a Black Sea Spirit Beast!”

Eric dipped his head. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Of course. I’m the one who prepared it. Enchanted vellum, sadly, isn’t sturdy enough to hold my sigils without bursting into flame.”

For long seconds she pinned him with her stare. “You weren’t gathering shells by the beach at all today, were you?”

Eric flashed a bleak smile. “Correct.”

She folded her arms. “You’re why Osirian was being so cagey when I questioned them all about the kraken. They all looked honestly dumbfounded. But he… I knew he was hiding something.” She gave a bemused shake of her head. “It turns out that he was hiding a prodigy. An underage boy he had absolutely no business recruiting.”

“Please rest assured, Aunty. I’m under no duress, and I’m just grateful that he offered to take me on as a student. Of course I can leave anytime I like. As you can clearly see, I’m in my bedroom practicing sigils, after all. Not spending the day cleaning Osirian’s mucky beast-blood apothecary in the rig, like he made it clear I would be, if I was really his apprentice, and not a casual part-time student.”

Sophia gave an oddly discordant chuckle. “If I had had any doubts before…”

Eric winced. “Oh. I volunteered too much, there. Because I don’t have access to my social perks, here.”

“You don’t have an AI super intelligence influencing your mind, you mean.”

Eric smirked. “Sure. We’ll go with that.”

“Eric, do you truly understand how powerful and wild these cultivators are? Perhaps they took a shine to you, and that’s a wonderful thing! You’re a beautiful exotic underworld faerie. Why wouldn’t they be fascinated with you?” Her gaze grew intent. “What you need to understand is that such a fascination could all too easily turn into something… darker.”

Eric chuckled, eyes twinkling with warm bemusement. He couldn’t help it. “Trust me, Aunty. That’s not going to happen.”

Eyes that had seen horrors unimaginable peered into his own. “You’ve only seen the gentlest of masks, child. Trust me. There are reasons why they’ve been given such… allowances.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Eric solemnly nodded, but this time was at least smart enough not to be goaded into revealing any more than he already had. In cased she didn’t understand their true nature and was only fishing.

“Their bodies are among the most powerful of all cultivators that dare the lowlands, Eric.”

“I gathered as much.”

“And they pay a terrible price for that power.”

She pinned his gaze.

His own didn’t waver.

“Do you understand the price they pay?”

Eric grinned. “Do you? Or are you just fishing?”

She sighed. “We have suspicions. Terrible suspicions.”

Eric clasped his hands behind his back, saying nothing.

“What can you tell us?”

Eric suppressed a snort. “I can tell you that I’ve yet to tutor under anyone I didn’t have reason to respect and admire. I’ll tell you that a student worthy of the title would never betray their mentor. And I’d like to tell you that being strange isn’t a crime. But for all I know, in this world…”

“Stop it, Eric. If there’s a threat, we need to understand it!” She sighed and shrugged. “But perhaps they really have taken the noblest of shines to you. Are they meeting you at the docks near the shore? Is Osirian a friend of Rachel’s, and she hopes he can help you find a path forward?”

Concerned features met his own as she rolled up the sharkskin covered in glowing white sigils. “Eric, I’m not mad. In fact, with this example of your own talents, I’m almost positive that I can get you an interview with proper cultivators before the season’s out!”

Eric didn’t have to fake his excitement. “Really? Aunty, that would be wonderful! Thank you so much!”

“So you see, Eric, you don’t need to rely on twisted cultivation paths as a crutch that could cripple your foundation forever.”

Eric forced a smile. “I quite agree, Aunty. I refuse to take any step that would irrevocably taint my foundation. So, it’s a good thing that I can channel my Qi into Highland Sigils without having to engage in any odd cultivation practices at all, isn’t it?”

Sophia scowled. “I’m afraid I’m going to need a bit more than that, Eric.”

Eric shrugged. “Honestly, Aunty, there’s not much more to say. I did meet up with Osirian, he did open my eyes to the fascinating world of formations and sigils. And maybe he was curious about me, and maybe I was as careful with him as I am…”

“With me?”

Eric smirked. “You can rest assured that if he ever asked me probing questions about you, I’d give him just one chance to shut up before I ended my relationship with him. But since you’re family, I’ll chalk it up to a misunderstanding.”

Sophia scowled, tapping her fingers against her arm. “Eric…”

He raised his hand. “I have something to show you, Aunty. And as fun as our verbal sparring is… this is really important.”

She scowled. “What are you asking, nephew?”

“For a truce. For an understanding that when one of us asks for a ‘safe conversation’ that means that our secrets and sources will be respected, and that we won’t use any secrets leaked or inferred against the other or the other’s contacts. Because then we can share vital info without fearing harm coming to friends, acquaintances, or risk breaking any cultivator’s oaths.”

Surprisingly, Sophia’s eyes widened with his words, her gaze filled with completely unexpected alarm.

“I accept that this is a Safe Conversation, nephew. Now please, tell me what you—”

Her words cut off when he revealed the three prizes he held.

“I wasn’t able to get Pristine Louts Blossom or Cloud Dragon’s Breath. But I was able to retrieve sea serpent vis, eldritch scales, and Zelon’s Bane. And according to the sheet that came with it… giving it in that order might be enough to save even the sickest of cultivators from being killed from either poisoned or stagnated Qi. So long as all three vials are given in short order, and the cultivator then does their best to cycle their Qi and expel the impurities, the contents will then do most of the work. Basically magnifying the individual cultivator’s efforts maybe a hundredfold. But, um… there are side effects,” he said, his hand that absolutely was not trembling slipped the paper into the exquisitely graceful hands of what he now increasingly feared was a Highland Inquisitor.

Hawklike eyes stared at the paper for long seconds before the hard-eyed professional sighed, her eyes filled with worry. “It’s not ideal, Eric, and will leave plaque that might take years to cleanse fully.”

“But it could save Hanna’s life. I mean, if we can force those awful Dragon Gate curse wards open. And if we can’t find any Lotus Blossom or Cloud Dragon’s Breath on the open market.”

Sophia clenched her jaw, Eric totally not expecting to see tears trickling down her cheeks. She solemnly handed him the vials and paper, before bowing her head. “You risk so much, trucking with peril for the sake of a woman you met only days ago.”

“For the sake of a woman who treated me like family. Who actually gave me a last name,” Eric rebutted, voice raw with emotion.

Sophia, the inquisitor no longer, flashed him a sad smile. “You’re a good kid, Eric. Please be careful. And now that you know that you have a future… now that you know that I’ll do my best to secure you that tome and an old friend with the prospect of taking on the most talented sigil artist I’ve seen in years, your future can be golden. So I hope you stop meeting wild cultivators in strange warehouses.”

Eric smirked. “Don’t worry, Aunty. I promise to be super careful, if I even bother going back to a certain diner at all, with the news you’re now sharing.” He then bowed, solemnly and low. “And thank you so much for helping my own star to shine that much brighter. I hope that you too will be prudent and careful in your future dealings with wild cultivators...and everyone else.”

This earned a snort. “Goodnight, nephew. I know your mother is expecting you to rise with the morning sun to get some proper cultivation lessons in.”

Eric grinned. “I can’t wait to open another peripheral channel.”

Of course Eric wasn’t done. It was only after seeing Sophia out and lying down to meditate for a bit that Eric got up, forcing himself to tackle the one element of his recently expanded craft that he had been putting off all night.

Trying to scribe even the first swirling curl of those pulsating purple glyphs that felt like they were slithering in his mind!

You have FAILED to copy basic Eldritch Glyph!

You have FAILED to copy basic Eldritch Glyph!

NOTE! Independent study has FAILED to blossom into fresh insights. You need additional lessons with an expert before you may proceed along this unorthodox path!

Before being forced to accept that with this art, he was little more than a bumbling student in desperate need of instruction.