Hmm… Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm… How exactly did a simple mutation errand spiral into me nuking half a forest?

Could I say oopsie? I should say oopsie.

Oh, Thalador Lysska was going to have so many questions.

I poked out from the treetops, still staring at the elf's severed arm dangling off me. Keeping it wasn't exactly the brightest idea, but the curiosity to crack open that spatial ring was eating at me.

Because when I bit his hand, the look on his face practically screamed, something shiny's in here. Trouble was, those rings were keyed to the user's mana. Last one I tried was useless… mostly because I ate its owner before he could be helpful.

But this time… This time I had leverage.

I raised the torn arm with one tentacle.

Blood carried mana, always did. Even cut off from the source, it clung to the flesh for about two days. That gave me more than enough time to poke at it. Or rather, to drag Lysska or maybe Lotte, if she woke up feeling charitable, into helping me jury-rig a way to use it as a key.

As for the elf himself…

Yeah, definitely not dead. No kill notification popped up, so he was definitely alive and probably still kicking. Somewhere.

Not that I could confirm anything. All I knew was how oddly not terrifying the fight had been. A few months ago, facing even a grey core would've had me soiling myself. And here I was, going claw-to-toe with a gold core.

He was clearly underestimating me. You could tell by the way he stood there, dodging my attacks with surgeon-level calm, like he was humoring a child throwing pebbles. Realistically, I don't think I could've hurt him anyway. So I did what I always did best: gremlin mode!

My power wasn't about brute force, it was about… harassment, poking and prodding until people lost their cool, and then striking where it hurt. Unless I was up against a Light pathwalker, or worse, a Space one, my ability to slink into the shadow dimension was turning out way more busted than I'd initially thought.

That was his breaking point. His utter inability to land a solid hit. Honestly, I was surprised how quickly he lost his cool, giving me the perfect window.

All's well that ends… well, ish.

My gaze dropped to the fluffy owlcat cradled in my grasp. Calm now, its family erased – even their bodies mutated into grotesque insects by that pointy-eared jerk.

I could release it here… but something held me back. Plus, it seemed remarkably polite. Why not offer it a ride?

"Mrra?" It inquired, tilting its head. Probing my intentions.

Fair enough. Choice it is.

"Alright, two roads diverge," I said, extending a clawed hand. "One: you stay in the forest, try to find surviving kin, rebuild. Or…" I paused. "Option two: you come crash at my place."

I watched expectantly as the floofy cat-owl wrestled with some internal gymnastics. Eventually, it looked ahead.

We were perched on a small hill, which gave us a perfect view of the carnage below. I'd lingered here partly to see if I could sniff out that elf's trail or maybe just to marvel at the sheer apocalyptic artistry my clones had left behind.

And oh, what glorious destruction it was.

Enough to make even a grown dragon misty-eyed.

I had plenty of thoughts about it, including a valuable lesson: never, ever let my clones detonate anywhere near allies. Not even within two hundred meters. Maybe three. Even then, the shockwave carried farther than polite company should.

The owlcat shivered at the sight, then placed its taloned paw firmly into my claws.

"Mrrow!"

IT WANTED TO GO WITH ME!

Hoho! Of course it did. Who wouldn't? I was clearly the gentlest, most floof-loving dragon it could ever hope to find. Obviously, my radiant aura of trustworthiness had swayed it, not the gaping crater eating up a whole chunk of forest in the background. Nope. Definitely not that.

Still, practical matters called. I could already spot more and more sword-riders spilling out of Varkaigrad. Best to slip away before some sharp-eyed lunatic decided to spawn-camp me.

My gaze fell to the severed arm wrapped in my tentacles. Carrying it around openly was a terrible idea, and hauling it back to our hideout was an even worse one. The smart move was to stash it somewhere safe until I figured out how to crack that ring. Luckily, Varkaigrad was cocooned in dense forest and secrets here were easier to bury than elves in denial.

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Didn't take long to find a natural cave tucked under another hill. Mr. Owlcat insisted on scouting it out, even though my senses told me it was empty. Still, let him have his illusion of usefulness.

He strutted back out and gave me a thumbs- err, talons-up.

"Mroow!" All clear.

I grinned, slid the severed hand inside, and wedged a massive boulder into the entrance. Then came the fun part: wards.

Stone wasn't exactly the best choice, it leaked mana like a cracked jar and couldn't hold enchantments long-term but I didn't need permanence. Just a temporary lockbox. I etched a mana seal across the surface, added a few anti-divination scripts Lotte had taught me and topped it off with an illusion ward I'd never gotten to test. Now the whole thing was neat, tidy, and invisible.

Granted, the anti-divination was probably useless. If that elf tried to divine his arm's location using his blood as the anchor, odds were he'd punch straight through my handiwork. Blood trumps all.

I shrugged. If it came to that, nothing I could do anyway. Better to focus on cracking that spatial ring before he came knocking.

***

"Mrra!" The owcat chirped from its new perch.

"Uh? Jade?" Viper's voice was muffled under the fluff.

"Mrrow!" It tugged gleefully.

"Why the hell did you bring that wild Nyxen in here—AAAAAAAAA STOP PULLING MY HAIR, YOU STUPID FELINE!"

Apparently, the floofy owlcat had discovered a new favorite perch: Viper's head. Honestly, I couldn't blame it, Viper had the shiniest, most luxurious hair out of all of us, and apparently the Nyxen liked black. How… adorably inconvenient.

Also, Nyxen. Good to know that's what they were called. My knowledge of the local fauna was… let's say patchy at best.

I scanned the workshop. Empty workbenches, dormant tools. "Where's Lysska? And Thibault? Vorak's missing too…"

Viper wrestled a talon from his scalp. "Lysska took them to another location. Keeping them in the middle district wasn't safe. She said she was calling in a few favors to keep Thibault contained for now, she didn't want to risk breaking whatever soul contract he was under in a rush. And Vorak went with her since they didn't want to cut off their talks where things left off."

"Damn, Lysska really is thorough."

And right then, I felt like an invisible hammer dented my skull. The familiar pang of being out-managed.

"Oh, and she dropped a line earlier. Something about… a massive forest sector getting vaporized west of Varkaigrad?" Viper finally pried the Nyxen loose, holding it at arm's length like live ordinance. "Sounded worried. Probably scouting the crater to make sure you weren't at ground zero."

The smile on my face froze.

Viper's sharp eyes caught it instantly.

"You… don't have anything to do with it, right?"

I smiled nervously. Yeah, not in the mood to explain how I was directly responsible for a forest-sized crater. So I fell back on my best skill:

Lying.

"Not really. I just happened to witness it up close. Ancestors swear, the shockwave nearly rearranged my face!" Which was technically true, I just left out the little detail that I was the shockwave.

Viper exhaled, tension melting. "Thank the– YOWCH!" The owlcat, sensing weakness, dive-bombed his hair-treasure trove again.

With Lysska gone, that was a problem. Vyra was still asleep, Brickfist (yeah, I should probably learn his real name) had wandered off somewhere, and Zoran was also knocked out.

Which left one question: did I really need to drag Lotte into this? Because I really, really wanted to crack open that spatial ring as soon as possible.

"Something on your mind?" Viper asked, probably noticing my face doing suspicious things.

After a half-second mental coin-flip, I pulled out the spatial ring. It glinted, cold in my palm. I tossed it to him.

Viper blinked as he turned the ring over in his hand, surprise flashing in his eyes. The thing was golden, rimmed with a massive ruby-like crystal set at its center. Spiraling enchantments shimmered faintly inside, twisting and pulsing as if alive.

"A spatial ring," he muttered, almost reverent. "And not just any… this is exquisite craftsmanship. Similar to the one that elf had on earlier. I think we lost that in the chaos, though it wouldn't have mattered. Without the owner's mana, trying to pry one open by force just destroys whatever's inside."

He paused, giving the current ring a longer look. "But this one's on a whole different level compared to that. Where exactly did you get it?"

I smiled thinly. "Let's just say… being close to that particular crater that happened a while back, I might've been the first to arrive and poke around."

Viper opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then promptly shut it again.

"Go on," I said. "Just say whatever's on your mind."

He chuckled. "It's just funny. Your current appearance doesn't exactly match what you're capable of. That sort of stunt… That's something Vyra would pull… right before Lysska scolded her for being reckless." He shrugged. "So saying 'that was reckless' doesn't quite apply to you the same way. Anyway… continue."

Well, fair enough. He wasn't wrong. But I pressed on.

"Basically, I found weird mana radiating from where this ring was lying, so I decided to bring it back before anyone else arrived."

"That's… kind of dangerous."

"I'm aware," I said quickly. "That's exactly why I want to pry it open before it's too late and someone decides to run a divination trace."

Viper shook his head, tapping the ring with one finger. "Same issue as before, we can't open it without the owner's mana. Even to undo the binding, you need that mana as the key. Without it, the ring's useless at best and dangerous baggage at worst." Then, a sly grin tugged at his lips. "Of course, it's not like we need the owner's consent. Just their mana. If we had something, anything, linked to their mana. Blood, a chunk of flesh, maybe even a staff or wand that's been saturated with their energy… in theory, it could work."

My eyes lit up. "So, let's just say hypothetically that flesh and blood were available. That would mean we could pry it open without harming whatever's inside, right? Since body matter preserves mana for a while before it starts to dissipate naturally."

Viper's gaze sharpened. "Yes," he said slowly. "That would be entirely possible."

"How exactly?" I leaned forward.

"Easy enough, you'd just need an alchemical channel. I thought you were supposed to be an alchemy prodigy." He chuckled under his breath. "You should know this already."

I snorted. "What I was learning were the broader applications of alchemy, 'Forcible Spatial Ring Cracking 101' wasn't on the syllabus." I leaned forward, the owlcat chirping indignantly as Viper's head shifted. "And anyone who claims to know all of alchemy is either a liar or a fool. If I don't know something, I'd be thrilled to learn it. It's alchemy, there's always more to discover."

If that was supposed to be a taunt, it bounced right off. Someone pointing out a gap in my knowledge wasn't an insult, it was an invitation.

"Now," I said, eyes narrowing. "Please elaborate on what exactly this 'alchemical channel' is, and how we'd use it to break open a bonded spatial ring."

My hunch was spot on. Lysska was a gang leader, and I'd be damned if she and her crew didn't have a secret method tucked away for prying into goods this sensitive.

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