Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 579: An offer

POV Nathaniel

As Lily leads me towards the others, I notice Myrra start sneaking closer, her tall figure looming over the two unsuspecting disciples trailing behind us.

Well, it had to happen.

I hear Pallius shout at the catgirl to leave him alone while my minion starts kicking as Myrra squats in front of her and rubs her cheeks, calling her something silly like Minithaniel.

I think Iʼm starting to dislike the frequency with which my name is being twisted into random nicknames.

The first disciple I meet is someone I know, a young lynthari boy. And damn, I think I’d probably recognize that bristly tail anywhere.

“At least act like you’re ashamed,” Maya berates me, and, in support, she puts her hand on her discipleʼs shoulder.

“I did nothing wrong,” I defend myself.

“You never do anything wrong. But, and sorry here, Enan, it was funny as fuck.”

“A little bit,” I agree, but donʼt mention that it is saved as one of my precious memories. That expression the young lynthari made was glorious.

“Anyway, this is Enan. He is a bit shy, but he’s a hardworking little guy, right?” Maya ruffles his black hair and scratches his color matched ears.

The lynthariʼs bristly tail sways from side to side as he lets out a grumble of protest, his face flushing.

Maya lets go, “He doesnʼt talk that much, though, such a silly guy. Now tell me, whatʼs with the pajamas?”

“I lost a bet.”

Instead of asking me again, Maya turns to Lily and raises her eyebrow in question.

“He did it for his disciple:”

I watch in real time as my hard-earned notoriety is destroyed piece by piece. But at least the pajamas are comfy.

Curious and thinking it might improve the look and help me regain some lost dignity, I reach through one of my Ley lines and summon my [Mana Crown] I had left floating in the living room

The instant giggle from my side tells me it didn’t work. But itʼs too late to take it back, and sending it away now would look even lamer, so I decide to keep it.

I lower myself, bringing my eyes level with Enanʼs, and look at him with what I like to think of as a friendly face, reaching out my hand toward him. “My name is Nathaniel, and that’s something I only share with a few people, but you are a disciple of one of those people, so I may as well tell you as well. But try to keep it to yourself, okay?”

His gray eyes dart from side to side, seeking out Maya before responding, and only when she nods does he look back at me and nod as well. “I will. My name is Enan.”

He reaches his hand toward me, and I shake it. His voice is very gentle and soft, yet it has a nice firmness to it when he introduces himself.

I stand up again and call out, “Myrra, bring me my disciple, please.”

In the blink of an eye, she’s standing next to me, holding my minion in her arms. It almost looks like she’s forcing poor Vega to listen to her heart, probably because Vega called it weak when Myrra started bullying her.

“Minion, this is Enan, and he is Maya’s disciple,” I say.

“Master, thatʼs too many names!” Vega complains without missing a beat, which makes Myrra giggle and snuggle her even more.

“Feral one, I’ll buy your disciple from you. She’s just way too cute. Itʼs exactly the way I would have imagined you when you were young. A cute and devious little jerk.” Myrra offers.

“I wonʼt be sold to someone with such a weak heart!” Vega calls.

“Minion, I fixed it for you: ʼI wonʼt be sold,ʼ” I correct her.

“Thatʼs true. I wonʼt be sold at all!”

“Suuuure,” Myrra says, ignoring the bursts of kinetic energy being thrown at her, either enduring them with her strong body or deflecting them with flashes of Aurora Glass, “And what is up with your clothes, feral one?”

“Iʼm going through a phase.”

“I see! How about I take Vega, Pallius, and Enan and make them talk things out? I’ll make sure no one gets hurt,” she offers.

“Thatʼs very suspicious for you to offer that, but letʼs first get Izzyʼs, Sophieʼs, and Min-Jaeʼs disciples, and let Izzy take some pictures…”

“Okay then, I’ll be holding onto your disciple until then.”

“Master, help.”

“Sure, keep her until then,” I answer to Myrra.

Our weird group moves to the workshop, where we find Isabella and Sophie waiting with their disciples.

Izzy spots Vega and immediately grows curious, joining in. “Hello, Iʼm Izzy, in case you forgot since the last tournament. Itʼs nice to see you again, Vega. By the way, Nathaniel talked about you a lot.”

“He did?” Vega asks curiously, still trapped in Myrraʼs arms.

“Yes, he did. Would you eat with me later? I want to talk to you.”

“E-eat with you?” Vega seems a bit confused, as if suspecting something bad might happen. “Should I do it, Master?”

“Why are you asking me? Itʼs up to you. And, for your information, minion, I wouldnʼt bring you to people I thought would hurt you, got it?”

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Vega nods, and Izzy looks at me with a big smile. As always, she tries to connect with me to read my feelings, but I deflect her attempts. Even so, I know she can still sense them on a superficial level.

What an evil ability.

“This is Seneca, my disciple,” Izzy introduces her disciple.

Seneca, though she’s probably just around 10 years old, is still a bit taller than Izzy. I donʼt recognize her race, but as Izzy said before, Seneca has blue hair that reaches down to her shoulders. Well, it would. But instead of hanging down her back, her blue hair floats around her head in a movement reminiscent of a flame.

I feel no heat from them; they simply float without falling onto her face or blocking her view. Otherwise, Seneca is slim, her skin a warm, sun-baked shade of bronze. All of which is complemented by her pale eyes, which shine a strikingly beautiful shade of blue.

Seneca puts her arms around Izzy from behind and looks at us with those piercing blue eyes, “Thanks for taking care of Izzy.”

Maya snorts, “Sometimes I have a feeling itʼs Izzy who’s taking care of us.”

That makes Seneca hug Izzy even tighter. Itʼs an unusual sight, especially since Izzy is so much stronger than Seneca, and given that theyʼre close in age.

“Are we introducing our disciples again?” Sophie asks, stepping in from the side while pushing her disciple forward. “This is Deva.”

Her disciple is a thylarin with six arms, which brings a familiar question to mind.

I glance down as she uses one of them to tuck her black hair behind her ear, and this time I actually decide to ask, “Why do some thylarin have six arms while about 95% of the others only have four?”

Deva doesnʼt even wait for Sophie to respond. Instead, she speaks for herself, confident and completely unfazed. “It probably has something to do with an ancient Genetic Lineage, rumored to have been inherited from a long-forgotten ancestor.”

“From before the system?”

“Possibly yes.”

“How did that ancestor travel between planets before the system?”

“That is something even our greatest minds and historians have yet to uncover. But itʼs an intriguing question. One of our Champion researchers has plans to visit other planets and seek out older beings for answers. Meeting a Ruler is likely impossible, but there are others who might know. The Magi, The Last Elf, or perhaps even The Warden of the Parallax Eyes would be among the few with that knowledge.”

“Oh, Kyralon? I wouldnʼt be surprised if he knew.”

For the first time, Deva opens her orange eyes wide and takes a step towards me. All six of her arms grab my shirt, and I almost expect her to shake me.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I met the guy. Velnar, locked away in a tower, all mysterious. Nice to talk to but also an asshole at the same time, you know the type.”

“H-how! You’re just a second or third year tutorial attendee.”

“Beyond quest.”

This time, she does try to shake me. And while my body isnʼt all that strong, there’s just no way I would be swayed by this kid, so it doesnʼt move me at all. ”Thereʼs no way the Warden of the Parallax Eyes would need something from you.”

“Well, he did,” I say, seeing how starstruck she is, and deciding to tease her a bit further, “He even poured me a drink and answered a few of my questions.”

Once again, she tries to shake me. That pretentious control is completely gone, replaced by a childlike impatience. For a moment, she seems less like the composed figure she tries to be and more like an eager kid struggling to hold herself back.

“Do you realize that there are Absolutes willing to trade entire planets just to have one question answered by someone like The Warden of the Parallax Eyes!?”

“I also chose not to ask one of the questions I was allotted.”

And she attempts to shake me again. At this point, I’m starting to wonder if it’s not some sort of special attack or something.

Before the poor thylarin can do anything else, Sophie grabs her from behind and pulls her away with a firm grip. Deva flails in protest, blubbering something about me being completely insane, her six arms twitching like she’s trying to argue her case. Meanwhile, Sophie keeps nodding, looking like she agrees with everything her disciple has to say.

At that same moment, my minion keeps shouting something at Myrra, telling her to let her go so she can punch that handsy blue halfwit.

Seneca giggles on the side, Enan watches in silence, and Pallius tells Lily to leave me alone. He insists that someone like me would never have a chance of meeting the Warden of the Parallax Eyes and that I shouldnʼt be trusted with my lies.

I let Sophie deal with her disciple, and while my minion keeps shouting for Myrra to let her go, I join Lily, “Will you take care of Vega? Just make sure Myrra doesnʼt bully her too much. I’ll be back soon.”

“Sure, no problem,” Lily answers.

I stop in front of Pallius, whose dark blue hair and eyes momentarily lighten with a mix of yellow as he stares at me. “What does being a shadow mean? Is that something like a bond?”

He shakes his head slightly. “On my planet, the position of ‘Shadow’ is a formal title granted by members of powerful families. It’s not a heavy chain like a bond; it’s more like a chosen follower. It means you willingly walk by that person’s side, learning and growing with them. If both allow it, it can become as strong as a bond, but at its core, it’s about following, not guarding.”

“So, itʼs not like a bodyguard?”

“No,” he replies. “Itʼs a role of trust and choice: a follower, not someone who hides in the background or simply protects.”

“I see. Well, see you later.” With these words, I teleport away and then use Wraith Dance to move further. There, at the edge of the forest, I find a man waiting for me who has recently made his presence known.

As always, Savant looks composed, judging by the way his green eyes watch the area. His now long black hair is tied at the back of his head and falling down. He doesnʼt seem like he even minds the waiting he had to do; he just patiently waited for me.

I also had the opportunity to take patience as my subclass, but I donʼt think I would’ve liked it. While I understand his behavior, it constantly irks me, and there are a lot of reasons behind that.

“What?” I ask.

“I came to make you an offer.”

“Iʼm listening.”

“There are three things I need help with. Itʼs fine if you decide to help me with just one or more. For each, Iʼm willing to offer a trade, be it items, materials, knowledge, or something else.”

“I have a question first.”

“Do ask.”

“Donʼt you have a disciple?”

“I do not, I have rejected it.”

“I see. So what are these three things?”

“First, I need you to help me with the Sword of Aeons. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do, and Iʼm currently incapable of doing it myself. Seeing the weapon at your waist, you or your group should be able to help me.”

“Hmm, not gonna lie, I would’ve agreed even if all it got me was the chance to look at the sword.”

“Still, as I said, Iʼm willing to pay. The second thing is this,” he lifts his right hand and shows it to me. It looks normal, though maybe the shade of the skin is a bit different. “Itʼs the hand of a lumoran Champion that I absorbed, but I failed to complete the process, and now I’m having trouble with it. What I need is for either you or your healer to help.”

“And third?”

”Third, I have learned by observing you and by using my skill to absorb kinetic energy. You seem to be the most proficient among Earthʼs tutorial participants, so while I plan to do things my own way, I want to gather more information from you.” He says this without a moment of hesitation, hinting at his skill and capabilities while also throwing it in my face.

“That’s quite a shameless request. It will cost you.”

”Iʼm confident that I can offer you a fair trade.”