Chapter 202: Report
Sound slammed back into place, the wind’s howl, the crunch of Varik’s boot planting into the snow, Selindra’s coat snapping against the gust.
Lucen gasped, clutching his chest. To them, it was seamless. Just another second passed.
But inside him, hours had shifted.
Selindra glanced over her shoulder at him, gray eyes narrowing. "You alright?"
Lucen forced a crooked grin, masking the raw ache in his chest. "Yeah. Just got a chill. Snow’s not exactly beach weather."
She didn’t smile. She just kept walking.
Varik didn’t look back, but his voice was steady. "You’re pale."
Lucen shoved his hands into his coat pockets, forcing his breathing even. "That’s just my natural complexion. I call it ’undead chic.’"
Neither of them pressed further. But Varik’s shoulders were a little tenser now. He always knew when Lucen was lying.
–
As they trekked further, Lucen tested the new skills quietly, internally. Just enough to feel their weight.
He brushed the edge of [Riftstep], and reality warped, his vision snapping two feet ahead before he forced it closed, breath sharp. The system hissed at him:
[Warning: Abyssal Resonance strain detected.]
Lucen muttered under his breath, "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Baby steps."
The mana efficiency boost was undeniable though. Where his older spells drained him hard, now they cost almost nothing, [Shockweave Bolt], once a heavy tug, flickered at his fingertips like it was begging to be cast on repeat.
Still, he resisted. Because every time he touched one of the new abyssal skills, something in him whispered louder.
Mine. Ours. Abyss.
Lucen forced the whisper down.
–
Hours passed. The mountains loomed closer, jagged teeth against the horizon. Selindra was the first to break silence, her voice cutting the wind.
"When we report back, I’ll tell Elira the vault’s guardians are gone. That the relic’s destabilized."
Lucen’s brow arched. "You’ll lie for us? That doesn’t sound very FHA of you."
She glanced back at him, her gaze unreadable. "If the truth spreads, other hunters will come looking. And they won’t stop."
Varik’s low rumble followed. "Good."
Lucen blinked. "Good?"
Varik didn’t turn. His voice was steady steel. "Let them come. If they want the abyss, they’ll die for it."
Selindra said nothing.
Lucen smirked faintly, though his thoughts were sharper.
’Yeah. Except I’m the abyss now, apparently. So let’s see how long before they start coming for me.’
–
Night fell before they stopped, making camp in a hollow between ridges. The cold bit deep, but Varik lit a small barrier fire, and the three of them sat in its glow.
Selindra unrolled her gear in silence. Varik sharpened his blade, every stroke precise. Lucen leaned back against a rock, staring at the flames.
The system flickered faintly at the edge of his sight, like it couldn’t stop reminding him.
[Level Up: 40.]
[+Mana 10. Current Pool: 350.]
[+New Spell Unlocked: Frostspire Surge.]
Lucen rubbed his eyes. "You’re relentless, you know that?"
Varik glanced up. "What."
Lucen forced a grin. "Nothing. Just talking to myself."
Selindra’s gaze lingered on him again. Too sharp. Too knowing.
He looked away, pretending to watch the fire. But inside, he was counting down.
Because the relic wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.
—
The Federal Hunter Association branch building didn’t look like much from the outside. Square, gray, blocky, like someone had dropped a concrete cube in the middle of the district and slapped a logo on the front. Inside though, clean white walls, mana scanners lining the entrance, and a lobby full of hunters either waiting for assignments or pretending they weren’t broke enough to take whatever scraps the FHA threw them.
Lucen stepped through the first scanner arch, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. The device gave a faint chirp, green light washing down his body.
[Identity Confirmed. Clearance: C-Class]
He smirked.
’Still lying nice and easy. Guess your system’s good at pretending, huh?’
Behind him, Varik came through second. His scanner lit up brighter, mana pressure registering so strong the arch actually flickered.
[Identity Confirmed. Clearance: SS-Class, Prime Level]
The lobby shifted. Subtle but immediate. Conversations dulled, chairs squeaked as people leaned back to look. A few of the lower-ranked hunters pretended they hadn’t noticed, eyes dropping to boots or magazines.
Varik didn’t acknowledge any of it. He just kept walking.
Selindra passed last. Her clearance hit [SS-Class] too, though lower than Varik’s, and even that was enough to make the room go pin-drop quiet for half a second.
Lucen whistled under his breath. "Love how subtle we’re being."
"Shut up," Selindra murmured without looking at him.
They headed for the glass elevators at the far side. Hunters still sneaking glances at them like they were celebrities who might vaporize the whole room if they sneezed wrong.
Lucen tapped the elevator panel, leaned casually against the wall as the doors slid closed. "You two ever get tired of the stares?"
"No," Varik said.
"Yes," Selindra said at the exact same time.
Lucen grinned. "Adorable."
The ride up was quiet. Floor numbers ticked past until the display glowed [Executive Level]. The doors opened into a hallway lined with dark wood paneling and brass plaques that looked expensive just for the sake of it. At the end, double doors guarded by two FHA officers.
Varik walked first. The guards didn’t even speak. Just straightened and opened the doors.
—
The office smelled faintly of paper and ozone, the way mana always lingered in high-tier buildings. A wide desk dominated the space, stacked neatly with files. Behind it, Elira sat.
She didn’t rise when they entered. Just folded her hands, nails painted a deep red that matched the trim on her jacket. Her eyes, gray, sharp, took them in one by one.
"Varik. Selindra."
Her gaze landed last on Lucen. A faint pause. Not disrespectful, not dismissive. Just... weighing.
"And the mage."
Lucen gave her a small mock salute. "Reporting for unpaid overtime."
Varik shot him a look. Selindra’s lips pressed thin.
Elira ignored the jab. "Sit."
They did. Varik took the center chair, Lucen dropped into the one to his right and immediately slouched, and Selindra sat perfectly straight to the left.
"Your report," Elira said.
Selindra leaned forward, sliding a slim data-slate onto the desk. "Vault neutralized. Three guardians destroyed. Relic chamber breached. Core sealed per standard protocol. No external interference."
Her delivery was crisp, clinical. Every word chosen.
Elira skimmed the file without picking it up. "Losses?"
"None."
"Casualties?"
"None," Selindra repeated.
Elira’s eyes flicked to Varik. "And your view?"
Varik’s reply was steady. "Efficient. Guardians were handled. Relic retrieved intact. Threat contained."
Elira nodded slightly. "And the mage?"
Lucen leaned back further in his chair, arms crossed. "Oh, you know. Carried the team. Slayed three guardians with one hand tied behind my back. Took a nap in between."
Selindra gave him a flat look sharp enough to peel paint. "He used low-tier crowd control and support fire."
"Support fire that saved your expensive boots," Lucen said without missing a beat.
"Enough," Varik said.
Lucen held up his hands. "Relax. Kidding. Mostly."
Elira’s eyes hadn’t left him. Not once. She drummed her nails against the desk once, a steady, measured rhythm. "Your level."
The air tightened. Selindra’s head turned toward him too fast, like she hadn’t expected Elira to say it outright.
Lucen tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "My level?"
"Yes."
He flicked his system open in his mind’s eye. The number glowed there, [Level 40], bright and impossible to miss. He hesitated for half a second before answering.
"Fourty."
Selindra’s brows pinched together. Elira’s drumming stopped.
"That’s impossible," Selindra said sharply. "You were twenty-eight when you guys started the mission."
Lucen smiled wider. "Guess I grind hard."
"You don’t ’grind hard’ twelve levels in three weeks."
Varik cut in. His tone was calm but had weight behind it. "He does."
The room went quiet.
Elira’s gaze slid from Lucen to Varik, then back. She leaned back in her chair finally, one arm draped against the rest. "Thirty-nine."
"Give or take a decimal," Lucen said casually. "You want me to prove it? I’ll juggle some spells. Put on a light show."
Selindra’s jaw tightened.
Elira didn’t answer him immediately. She just studied him, silent long enough for the hum of the office ventilation to seem too loud. Finally: "Levels are just numbers. What matters is survivability."
She turned to Varik. "You trust him."
"Yes."
That was all. No elaboration.
Elira accepted it with a small nod. Then, to Lucen: "Don’t make me regret allowing you in my records."
Lucen gave a small shrug. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
’Mostly because you’d probably bury me in paperwork before I could run.’
Elira rose then, collecting the slate. "Your next assignment will be dispatched once analysis on the relic is complete. Until then, remain on standby."
Selindra stood immediately. Varik followed. Lucen lingered half a beat longer, then dragged himself up with a lazy stretch.
As they turned to leave, Elira’s voice cut once more across the room. "Mage."
Lucen looked back.
Her eyes caught his. Not hostile. But not soft either. "Levels that climb that quickly come with attention. From more than just the Association."
Lucen held her gaze a second longer before grinning. "Guess I’ll try not to be too interesting then."
He turned and walked out with the others.