Chaina had thought she had had her fill of surprises from the boy before her, but he had gone and done something else to completely throw her.

  As the crunching sound faded, he smiled dimly at her.

  “The Lycan anatomy does not permit us to use magic,” he started, subtly licking his lips like a predator (a bad habit of his in such scenarios).

  As he spoke, she noticed that his presence seemed to grow deeper and more unsettling, like the person she knew was being occluded in shadow even as he spoke.

  “Instead, when we make contact with life particles, they decay. When high-energy particles decay, they give off radiation. It is this radiation that we’re able to harness, its mysterious power mutating our bodies beyond normal mortal bounds. Of all the myriad races, only the Lycan consumes.”

  Chaina paid attention to his words even as she took this as an opportunity to recover. It was a pity that he generally preferred silence as the timbre of his voice had an undeniable lure to it. Like the light some depth-walking predator used to draw in their prey.

  “Consuming life energy and using it as fuel. In a manner of speaking, we’re the very first combustion engines.”

  Chaina of course knew a little about the mysterious anatomy of the Lycan, but his confirmation of the mechanism of their power was helpful as a lot of what was known about his kind was pure fabrication or heavily mixed in with propaganda.

  His insight about combustion engines was also something she had never considered in that way.

  Lycans did present a different way of interacting with life particles. Not in collaboration like the other races – a relationship perhaps comparable to the way the sails of a ship used wind to power their voyages – but in destruction and extraction like a fire that consumed its fuel.

  This simple way of participating in life used to be prevalent in the realm, but the advent of Humankind to their shores had changed that.

  Chaina wasn’t necessarily against it; after all the red engine crystal that was at the centre of the combustion engine technology was at the centre of the wealth of her family and race in general. Her thoughts were not just of self-interest either as the grand buildings, medical advancement, array technology and Mystic Armaments (magic weapons) that were the status quo were only possible with the intense power of the Red Governors.

  The idyllic longings for a long-gone age was one thing, but the changes of the world were as they were and she couldn’t say that she desired something she had never even had.

  She looked at the Lycan in front of her and regarded him with a complex gaze, wondering if this comparison of his was just an idle thought or had some special significance. One way or another, those questions would have to wait until after this match.

  “Done with your musing?”

  “Mostly,” she said with a forced smile as she raised her bow.

  “No longer defending?” he asked amusedly.

  “I’ve decided to finish this with the next move,” she said boldly. “I was rather surprised by your power but… it’s ultimately lacking.”

  He frowned at this but didn’t react beyond that.

  Since defending had proven mostly vain, she wanted to bet it all on one last forceful attack. In that aspect, though she lacked the brawn of the Lycan, her magic was ultimately more powerful. After all, flight, teleportation and transmutation were all possible with sorcery, whereas pure physical power could only do so much.

  Just as she was about let go of the bolt, she heard a strange howl.

  Suddenly, she fell to her knees and dropped her weapons. She tried to reorient herself, but it felt as though she was a spinning top as her vision swam. Her first thought was to use a focusing spell, but she found that her mana was aboil and unstable and she couldn’t weave it into a spell.

  “Your power was impressive,” Elijah said haughtily from behind her, “but ultimately lacking.”

  The next moment, she felt a cold hand wrap around the back of her neck.

  All of her instincts were stirred by this motion of his and she couldn’t help but scream.

  “Stay away!”

  The very next moment, he was thrown through the air like a stone from a slingshot and crashed into the wall with such ferocity that the debris crumbled on him as he fell.

  At this moment, Cardinal bowed respectfully before the figure of an austere giant whose bearded visage seem to hide all features with the exception of his shining black eyes.

  “Oh, the Honoured Son has come to greet me.”

  He shook his head at the title.

  “That means nothing.”

  “Many would disagree,” he said, offering his former student some kola nut, which he promptly refused; osu were not allowed to break kola nut with those outside their class. Breaking of kola nuts wasn’t just an empty ritual, but an extension of hospitality. When offered to a guest, the patriarch of the house (or another of the authorities) would offer prayers to their ancestors and the gods for blessings upon the person who had come to their home and the business that had brought them there. The osu, men forsaken by the gods, could obviously not invoke them carelessly.

  “Master,” the tall man said, “I just heard the news from Q’Roh and came to confirm your intentions.”

  “That one is always overeager to speak.”

  Cardinal weighed the ambiguous words of his master before trying tentatively:

  “Does that mean it’s true?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” the man said dubiously.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Cardinal was beyond surprised by this.

  His master was esoteric and trained only those he found worthy. Cardinal himself considered enjoying his tutelage as one of the chief fortunes of his life.

  In contrast, he wasn’t aware of any special talent his son had manifested and this despite the fact that he kept rather close tabs on him.

  There was no reply for quite some time, but Cardinal didn’t rush him and instead focused his rapt attention on him as he broke the kola nuts the Fae had refused earlier slowly and began to chew.

  “Your union is rather unique,” was the reply after a while.

  “A Lycan and a Fae coming together, and not only successfully bearing children but twins.”

  Cardinal once again said nothing but there was a flash of complex emotions across his face before he got it under control.

  “It’s almost time for him to undergo his second growth phase… I foresee trouble with that. Such contrary blood cannot coexist.”

  What was he driving at?

  “What do you mean, master?”

  “This child, he has the genetic potential of both your races… a thing unheard of before.”

  The declaration hit the greying Cardinal like a bolt.

  “That’s… not possible.”

  He said this despite knowing his master was a skilled Dibia (medicine man or priest), and had even scryed the faith of his two children on that night. If anyone knew his destiny, it was this man.

  He did not reply, though and was instead occupied with the slow breaking and chewing of kola nut.

  Despite his generally stoic mien, Cardinal felt his patience strained to the limits as he waited for his master to say more.

  “He is a child without precedent.”

  “That’s – that’s impossible. Fae and Lycan anatomies are diametrically opposed. Lycans decay life particles and Fae are almost entirely composed of them. Not to mention that their special iron Blood is toxic to us.”

  “All that you say is true,” he said, reaching for another kola nut. This time, though a wave of Cardinal’s hand saw the whole bowl disappear.

  “Please address this with some seriousness, master.”

  “It’s so rare for you to lose your temper, young one.”

  He didn’t reply, but gave a small bow in apology for his behaviour before setting his eyes firmly on his master, determined to get a full account.

  “All you say is true, the two races are the most incompatible. That’s why the unions between the two almost never even produce offspring and has never till date produced a hybrid. Still, things must happen a first time at some time.”

  “How is it possible, though? These things don’t just happen.”

  “… the Goddess seems to have set this time for the reckoning. It was already known that she would act during one of his growth phases, and such a… manifestation would seem to be her doing.”

  Even Cardinal’s steel nerves couldn’t handle the shock and he felt his head pound.

  He lowered his frame to a nearby seat – the first time he had ever sat down in his master’s house in the last twelve years.

  He examined the man’s barely discernible face strongly, trying to ascertain whether or not this was some sort of sick joke. His master’s humour was not what anyone would call sensible after all.

  “I’m being very serious,” he said candidly, “it’s impossible for one person’s body to inhabit such disparate anatomies… the child will die.”

  Simultaneously, Elijah lay on his back underneath the debris, trying to piece together the events that had just occurred.

  He was naturally fine even after such a brutal attack due to his strong constitution. Instead, he moved through a range of emotions.

  Firstly, he was full of trepidation and regret at his decisions. He had placed his hand on a freeborn, he knew better than to do such a thing.

  If she took offence, it wasn’t impossible that he would never leave this basement.

  He made himself as small as possible under the debris in the vain hope that he would be forgotten here and so be able to dig his way out at some later point.

  His luck had never been that good, though and he heard her voice call out to him and what he imagined to be worry in that voice. Unable to withstand it, he replied in the affirmative to let her know that he was fine.

  “That’s a relief,” she said lightly, before looking at him up and down.

  Elijah was naturally rather confused but kept a neutral expression as he returned to kneeling respectfully before her.

  “Did you notice anything?”

  “Nothing at all, young mistress,” he said firmly, although he had an idea what she was talking about.

  “You’re such a liar!”

  “How could this insignificant one have the gumption to lie before your illustrious self? Let me lose my head and one arm if I ever dared.”

  “Why only one arm?”

  “After already losing my head, everything else is overkill; my executioner would likely get bored of chopping up a corpse after one arm. Especially since our hide is quite durable.”

  Chaina found herself amused by his cheek but saw that behind the flippancy hid real fear and decided to not push it anymore.

  “I need you to keep what you did see a secret,” she said seriously, “I’m not quite ready to let everyone know.”

  “Yes, young mistress,” he said with a bow.

  “That’s good,” she said with a chipper smile, “follow me upstairs.”

  He naturally obliged as it was quite impossible for him to escape from this fortress and his bag was in their possession – he needed that bag.

  “I was very impressed with your abilities,” she said as they walked up slowly, “you could definitely have defeated me if we were peers.”

  Elijah personally had no interest in winning the fight – he knew that his life was far more important than winning a bet. How could an osu like him take responsibility if a Highborn heiress was injured?

  “How is that possible?” he began. “The young mistress excels in all that she does and this was just a sparring match to exchange pointers – how can we talk of winners and losers? Not even to exchange pointers, but just so that this lowly one could display a few tricks for your enjoyment and be awed by the great ability of the Chukwudifu clan.”

  She frowned at this but apparently decided to filter out all the flattery.

  “So, you’re saying that you lost the bet?”

  “How could it be otherwise, young mistress?”

  You expect me to claim a victory? Elijah thought to himself resentfully.

  Despite the fact that he had technically won the battle by placing his hand on a vital part unobstructed, he wasn’t going anywhere near that.

  Firstly, that contact had been a complete accident. Even though she seemed to not have taken any offence, it could be a trick to get him complacent and say something damning – he had had extensive experience with the Highborn and knew their semantic games. It was a fact that flattery and deference would get him much further than truth and dignity.

  “I’ll have my servant collect the agreed upon sum then,” she said in annoyance and walked away from him.

  His constant brownnosing was having the opposite intended effect, but he was unsure what to do. He just maintained a steady pace behind her as he was led back to the main hall.

  She managed to extract a smile after she took her seat and instructed the servants to bring some food around.

  Elijah watched in surprise as the very next second large bowls of delicacies appeared before the pair.

  “Dig in,” she said genially, taking his shock to mean that he was impressed by the spread, “I had them prepare some of your favourites – you mentioned them in a few of your letters. After this, we’ll talk a bit about our match; it’s the most fun I’ve had in the longest time. Also, let me know about your plans for the next few days; a wrestling troupe is coming and I want you to watch with me.”

  “I’m sorry, young mistress.”