Chapter 91: The Summoner known as Ravin Elteth

Chapter 91: The Summoner known as Ravin Elteth After Kairos had exited the room, the two figures who had pretended to sleep slowly opened their eyes. They rose from their beds in near unison, their breathing steady—both of them had been silently waiting for the right moment. They hadn’t wanted to engage Kairos in any conversations about their personal missions or destinations. Not yet. Not with him around. Carlos moved first, adjusting the dark face cap over his head, pulling it low enough to partially conceal his features. Behind him, Darnell followed suit, donning a green face cap. The choice of color was subtle, but intentional—he just preferred the colour green over black. Without a word, the two of them exited the academy building and made their way through the busy streets toward the heart of the market district. Vendors barked prices, children laughed and ran between stalls, and the smell of freshly cooked food drifted through the air. It was a bustling morning, the kind that made it easy to blend into the background. As they walked, Carlos finally spoke, voice low enough that only Darnell could hear. "I’m heading to meet an Intel base operative. A spy embedded right here in the market," he whispered. Darnell blinked. "A spy? Here?" Carlos gave a subtle nod. "Faction work. They’re everywhere. Even in the military." Darnell was silent for a moment, absorbing the revelation. Spies in the military... of course. It made sense when he thought about it. Each faction, regardless of their loyalty claims, likely had eyes on the others. Watching, calculating, scaling power and weakness. The real war wasn’t always fought with swords or guns—it was fought with secrets. The true war of this world is among humans themselves. Still, he said nothing aloud. His mind remained anchored to a singular obsession. Ravin Elteth. That name gnawed at him constantly, like a parasite chewing through his sanity. Capturing him—no, destroying him—was all he cared about. Eventually, the two arrived at an unremarkable-looking shop, its sign creaking slightly as the wind passed. It sold socks—of all things. To an outsider, it was just another mundane stall in the maze of the marketplace. Behind the counter stood a woman, middle-aged, with bright eyes that didn’t match the simplicity of her store. As they approached, Carlos bowed slightly in greeting, his demeanor shifting into something more casual. He leaned on the counter, smiling politely as he struck up a conversation. Darnell, standing just behind, noticed something peculiar. Carlos tapped his finger against the wooden surface in a rhythmic pattern—subtle, but deliberate. The woman replied, sometimes with a nod, sometimes by placing her hand on the counter and mimicking similar motions. Her replies were almost unintelligible to anyone who wasn’t paying close attention—clicks, hums, mumbled words that barely passed for normal conversation. To the crowd passing by, it looked like an ordinary haggling match. A customer debating the price of a set of long socks. But to Darnell, who was just close enough to observe clearly, it was a strange and silent language. Carlos finally accepted the socks the woman handed him, stuffing them casually into his storage ring. He turned around swiftly, grabbing Darnell by the arm and leading him away. The transaction was complete. "I got what we came for," Carlos murmured as they walked. "Now back to the room—we’ll look through the Intel and decide our next move." Darnell followed in silence, but Carlos had begun to notice something. The tension in Darnell wasn’t just about the mission—it ran deeper. He recalled the vague lines in the dossier. Grudge against Ravin Elteth. But nothing explained why. And now, he needed to know. "Darnell... might I ask—why do you hate the man? What exactly did he do to you?" The question dropped like a stone between them. For a moment, Darnell said nothing. But then he inhaled sharply, as though preparing to remove a long-lodged blade from his throat. "To call him a man is not appropriate... but to call him a monster is," he began. "When I was little, I was just another orphan with no place to call home. I wandered the streets until I found a village, a family that accepted me. There were others too. A small community. We had nothing, but we had each other." He paused. His voice remained low, but his tone hardened. "It was them who taught me the meaning of friendship. A person who shares a meal is a friend. Someone who sleeps beside you without stabbing you in the back—also a friend. That was our culture. And we never trusted the military. That was the most important rule." Carlos listened quietly. There was weight in Darnell’s words that couldn’t be faked. "The military had created that town. We didn’t know why. Maybe as an experiment, maybe as bait. But one day... Ravin Elteth came. Injured, bleeding. We helped him. Celebrated him. Made him one of us." Darnell’s fists clenched. "He seemed normal. Like a brother. But he was just hiding his madness." He swallowed, eyes narrowing at the memory. "A month later, aliens attacked. They slaughtered everyone—our parents, our friends. Even the military officers who stayed behind to protect us. Elteth killed the aliens... but left us, the children, alive." He exhaled shakily. "That’s when he began experimenting. Extracted alien cores. Injected their blood. Tortured us for years. Until we were ten. That’s when he tried to awaken our summons." Carlos’ jaw tightened. He didn’t interrupt. "But something went wrong. Our summons came out... twisted. Mutated. Monsters. Mine nearly killed me." Darnell’s voice broke slightly. He shook his head violently, as if trying to shove the memory away. "He took everything from us. And now... he must be stopped. Once and for all." Carlos nodded slowly. Tortured. Experimented on. Darnell’s hatred wasn’t just vengeance—it was survival. But even as Carlos empathized, he couldn’t let himself become emotionally entangled. His mission would eventually require Darnell’s sacrifice. That was the reality of war. --- Elsewhere, Ravin Elteth sat calmly in a dimly lit room, hunched over a table. His gaze was fixed on a single object—a fragment of bone emitting an eerie, black smoke. It pulsed, almost like it was alive. He’d stolen it from Silver’s lab without her knowledge. Whatever it was, it was dangerous—and fascinating. Ravin had run dozens of tests. Chemical scans. Magical probes. Nothing. No blood, no fingerprints. Like it belonged to a creature not registered in any known system. He turned the bone in his hands again. Then, curiosity got the better of him. He pressed its jagged end against his skin. The reaction was immediate. "Ahhh!" Ravin screamed, flinging the bone away as searing pain flooded his senses. His right hand burned with a heat that felt like lava. He stumbled back, watching in horror as the flesh on his hand began to blacken and rot away, consumed by the dark energy. In seconds, his entire forearm was infected. He acted fast. Reaching with his left hand, he grabbed hold of his shadow and with an agonizing roar, ripped his infected arm off in one violent pull. Flesh and skin tore apart like paper. The arm hit the ground with a metallic clang. What remained was a hollow metal limb. Artificial. Detached now. He panted, sweat dripping down his forehead, watching the infection curl away into nothing. "So... this is the cause of the Pascoloid infection?" he muttered, half in awe, half in thrill. "A shadow that burns like fire." His mind raced with possibilities. He wanted to test it. Use it. Stab someone. Anyone. Just to measure the reaction time. To understand the decay rate. But that could wait. He moved toward his desk and summoned a small box from his storage ring. Placing it on the floor, he tapped a few keys, then stepped back. The box glowed, and a green spherical portal slowly expanded above it. It was set to watch only—a precaution he knew was wise. On the other side, a monstrous figure came into view. A towering humanoid beast with twisted horns, bearded tentacles, jagged tusks, and gleaming armor. A Nyxaris commander. "You are late!" the creature roared, glaring through the portal. Ravin suppressed a smirk. Good thing I set this to watch-only, he thought. If the portal had been open, that thing would’ve likely stepped through to teach him a lesson in pain. "I have very good information to make up for my delay," Ravin said, bowing mockingly. "And believe me... it’s time we enjoyed the fruits of our partnership." Because Ravin Elteth wasn’t just a mad scientist. He was a traitor. A spy. A man who sold out his own race to monsters.