Well, it seems Lysska’s cautious nature finally proved its worth. Not that I was any stranger to caution myself. But to think there was an actual Gold here— one deliberately smothering her core, pretending to be harmless just to lull everyone into comfort before pulling a vanish-and-slaughter move… that was a touch dramatic.

  I wouldn’t have fallen for it though. I don’t rely on checking cores to decide who’s dangerous. Ever since my evolution, something deeper took over. An instinct that makes my own power press against the world, feeling how it pushes back. A silent exchange of power that tells me who’s worth worrying about. That sense would’ve warned me long before she blinked. Still, gotta hand it to Flameclaws, they really don’t want me anywhere near the Spirit Hunt.

  …Or maybe they do. Maybe this whole act was just a layered trap, pretend resistance to make me think I’m defying them, when in reality, I’m dancing right where they want me.

  Yeah. Definitely been spending too much time around Lysska if I’m starting to sound like her conspiracy board.

  I shook my head. No way this was that complicated. Right?!?

  The manor’s interior was elegant, polished, and far too well protected for comfort. Layers upon layers of defensive wards, woven with meticulous craftsmanship and mana density that reeked of old money and paranoia. I could have dismantled them if I had time, analyzed their logic, found the weak points, but slipping inside without touching them at all? That was a masterpiece on its own. Hehe. Hijacking a ride through Lysska’s crow was easily my best stroke of genius today.

  Lysska knew the identity of the Dragonfire’s guardian— apparently a traditional family honor here, bestowed upon the eldest son. He was granted the right to guard the sacred flame until the Spirit Hunt's conclusion. Furthermore, this territory was to be the center of the upper district's celebrations.

  It wasn't difficult to find him and place the Observer’s Mark and Suggestion upon him. For a moment, I thought that Gold might sense something amiss with him or detect my spells clinging to his aura, but it seems I overestimated her vigilance. My workings are nigh invisible. The only time anyone ever sensed them was when I tagged Sergiy. Poor fellow. Having a water affinity must be a trial without understanding what it truly does.

  I pushed stray thoughts aside and focused. The job wasn’t over yet.

  From outside, the sounds of chaos filtered in, explosions and the occasional metallic crash. Lysska was out there, keeping the Gold busy while I worked. She’d taken potions to alter her appearance, mimicking my own from before my evolution— silver hair, crimson eyes.

  Her abilities let her stand toe-to-toe with a Gold, not through strength but sheer, ridiculous Luck. Reality itself seemed to stumble over itself trying to keep her alive. Still, even that had limits. She’d bought me five minutes— tops— before her fortune flipped on her.

  So I had to move. Fast.

  A blast rattled the manor, shaking chandeliers loose and making my pace quicken. Lysska’s crow fluttered near the staircase.

  “Found it?” I asked.

  It gave a sharp nod and an affirming caw.

  I grinned, adrenaline humming through me.

  “Then let’s move. We’re out of time.”

  The reason I was being even more cautious was simple— another damn ward inside was blocking any form of mana manipulation. No spells, no tricks, nothing. The entire manor was basically a magic-free zone, and it was driving me insane.

  I’d even left my clones outside. Not because I didn’t trust them— well, alright, I didn’t trust them— but because bringing any mana-based construct into a heavily warded area like this was begging for disaster. One wrong twitch, one unintended pulse of mana, and the alarms would start screaming. This place would turn into a death zone in seconds.

  I wasn’t even sure hiding in the Shadow Realm would save me this time. That’s how bad it was. Paranoid? Sure. But with these wards, paranoia was just self-preservation. Seriously, who the hell designed this place?

  I really needed to learn more about warding and defensive magic. There were just so many branches of magic to study, and I was hopelessly behind in all of them. All I had were a few borrowed precautions Vasilisa had drilled into me. She knew her stuff, especially when it came to advanced wards. Her golden rule: Identify what a ward does, stay the hell away from it unless you understand it completely.

  And yeah, I was very happy to heed that warning. Still, it sucked that I couldn’t dismantle one and throw in a smug, “Take that, sucker,” to whoever designed them.

  I moved quickly, following the crow through the dim hallways until it led me to another chamber deep in the back of the manor.

  The archway ahead was wide open, and just beyond it, I saw a massive circular structure— like a hollow disc— with an inferno blazing inside.

  Dragons were carved all along the frame, their engraved bodies curling around the rim, but that wasn’t what confirmed what I was looking at. It was the color of the fire— brilliant, shifting hues rippling in a prismatic dance.

  It glowed so intensely that it tugged at something deep in my memory, back when I was just a tiny hatchling. I remembered the dungeons, the overwhelming flood of colors that shimmered around the world. I dubbed them Prana, though maybe Divinity had been the proper word all along.

  Thalador’s bible described Divinity as the purest form of life force, also called Prana. So I hadn’t been wrong, just… early.

  And this fire, it burned with that same divine intensity, radiating with the rainbow brilliance of living energy. No illusion, no trick. This was Dragonfire.

  But, of course, there was a catch. Another ward shimmered faintly across the archway.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  How many of these things did this damned manor need?!

  I bit my lip, another distant explosion rumbling through the walls outside. No time to study or properly dismantle it. I’d have to pull the same trick again.

  I exhaled sharply and focused inward, on the mark I’d placed, the one whose presence pulsed faintly inside my head.

  Levko was still inside the manor, anxious, jittery and clearly wishing he wasn’t. He was crouched beneath a tall window, half-watching the chaos unfolding outside while trying not to be seen himself.

  I couldn’t read his exact thoughts, but I could skim the surface emotions flickering across his mind, little ripples of panic and worry. Practicing this spell on that unpredictable mess named Alder had refined my control enough to catch the gist of what he was thinking, especially given the context.

  ‘Oh fuck, so the troublemaker really did come.’ His thoughts brushed against mine. His eyes darted toward the courtyard. ‘Would Alina be alright?’ He paused, then shook his head quickly. ‘She’s a Gold Core. That’s not even a question.’

  Another explosion rocked the walls, and he flinched, ducking instinctively.

  I caught some strange, muddled emotions through the connection, something that felt tangled and oddly personal, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. There was work to do.

  I grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it at the ward shielding the Dragonfire. It shattered with a satisfying crash. Predictably, Levko froze.

  ‘That came from the Dragonfire’s direction... Wait, someone’s inside?’ I whispered into his ear, planting the thought like a seed.

  He jolted, eyes snapping toward the window again where Alina was still occupied outside. He swallowed audibly.

  ‘I can’t reach her right now. The troublemaker’s out there. Then... where did that sound come from? I’ll have to check it myself.’

  Good boy.

  I whispered again, gentle, coaxing and he moved exactly as I wanted. His hand brushed against his pocket, a flicker of thought surfacing as he glanced down.

  So Alina had given him something… likely a charm or talisman, a failsafe for emergencies. Considering his partner was a Red Core, it made sense she’d want him to have some kind of distress beacon. Maybe a flare. Or maybe something a lot worse for me if I wasn’t careful.

  Soon enough, Levko crept toward the source of the noise, steps hesitant. His gaze fell on the shards of the vase scattered across the floor, confusion knitting his brow. He stepped inside cautiously, scanning the room for intruders and seeing none.

  To my satisfaction, he passed through the ward without resistance. That meant it was tuned to recognize certain mana signatures or flow patterns, likely the family’s own lineage. But if I wanted access, I’d need him to disable it himself, just like he did earlier when entering the manor with Kraven.

  The question was… how?

  I couldn’t simply tell him to do it. A direct suggestion that obvious would make the spell snap and the psychic backlash would knock him senseless.

  So, after mulling it over for a few seconds, I arrived at the most logical solution available to me.

  …Make him want to do it himself.

  A grin spread across my face. A method far superior to excessive thinking. Something for which Lysska would have criticism, but she wasn't here. I eyed Levko’s unsuspecting back and licked my fangs.

  ***

  Something felt wrong, an itch under Levko’s skin that made his heartbeat spike. He was standing in the Dragonfire chamber, but the shattered vase sat back down the hallway; it hadn’t smashed itself against the ward. Someone or something had thrown it.

  His hand went to his pocket. He should signal Alina… let her know something was off.

  ‘I should check it myself before calling her. What if she turns and gets hurt?’ a smooth, sugared whisper slid into his head.

  …Still, she was a Gold core. The idea sounded ridiculous, and yet that little voice had the cadence of something new crawling out of a closed part of his mind, an unfamiliar channel of suggestions that shouldn’t have been there.

  At least they were useful suggestions.

  He shook his head and stepped from the Dragonfire chamber, every muscle on guard as he swept the corridor with probing curls of mana. The wards held steady. He pressed himself to the wall, poking and testing, moving cautiously.

  Then his mana brushed something behind him. Levko spun around, heart threatening to leave his chest, sword drawn and aimed at empty air. He swore on the Ancestors, he’d felt something. He probed again; nothing.

  He didn’t push forward. Instead he probed behind him a second time and felt it again. A presence, darker this time. Cold spiked his blood. He froze and kept testing the space.

  It was eleven feet tall. Scales under its hide, a wide maw, mana-rich saliva dripping, fangs glinting, movement closing in, vicious claws finding his waist.

  He didn’t move. Instinct screamed, but his body stayed locked as the creature’s hand slipped into his pocket and fished out the token Alina had pressed into his palm.

  Fuck. FUCK! He should’ve used it earlier. What the hell had he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all?

  Curses twisted inside him, useless as the monster pulled closer and shackled him in its grip. Tentacles coiled, lifting and holding him immobile. It breathed warm pestilence against his neck and spoke with a voice like gravel wrapped in honey.

  “Hah— such a sweet scent of terror.” The tone was sickly-sweet and low. “It’s been a while since something smelled like this.”

  Its claws forced his head back. Levko couldn’t cry out; breath was a fight.

  He saw a golden, draconic face looming inches from his own and violet eyes spiraling with amusement, definitely a beast-form, definitely someone dangerous.

  “Two options,” it said, teeth bared in a grin full of sharp edges. “One: you go there like an obedient dog and open the ward for me. Two: I tear you limb from limb and shove what’s left up your arse while keeping you alive to feel every bit of it.”

  It flashed a line of vicious fangs. “Believe me, I have practice.”

  ‘Fuck, I don’t want that to happen. I should just do what she says!’

  Another thought slithered through Levko’s mind, persuasive, and for a split second he just wanted his own head to shut up. But damn it— it made sense.

  A deafening explosion rattled the manor’s walls, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. The battle outside hadn’t stopped; it was growing fiercer.

  ‘For someone to hold out this long against a Gold Core… this troublemaker Jade must be pretty strong. Alina won’t be coming to save me. I’ll have to survive on my own.’

  The whisper came again— smooth, reassuring… poisonous.

  And yet, it hardened his resolve. He had to live. No one was coming.

  “Alright! I’ll do whatever you say! Just— just let me go!” he stammered, words tumbling out.

  The creature’s grin widened, its fangs catching the Dragonfire’s glow. It looked pleased.

  ***

  “Oh well, that was easy.”

  I straightened, glancing at the unconscious Levko sprawled on the floor. Maybe I’d overdone it with the psychic push or the part where I smacked his head against the wall, but his breathing was steady, so he’d live. Probably.

  I turned my attention to the heart of the chamber… the Dragonfire itself.

  It was beautiful.

  A column of flame bound within layered runes, burning without smoke or heat, yet… alive. Its presence felt more than passive; it looked back. I could feel it. The heat it radiated had a pulse.

  But there wasn’t time to admire it. I needed to finish the job, drop my blood into it and get the hell out before Lysska’s five minutes expired.

  Still, the closer I stepped, the stronger its presence grew. Its pressure crawled under my scales, its heat gnawed at the edges of my mana.

  Was that… normal?

  It should be. Probably.

  I stopped barely a foot away, hand poised to act, when a flare of light ripped from the fire’s heart. A tendril of pure flame tore free and lunged at me.

  It struck my throat.

  No, deeper. It struck straight into my fire gland.

  “What—?!” The word died in my throat, replaced by a scream I couldn’t voice. Pain erupted inside me. I knew this feeling too well. The same burning agony that came every time one of my organs mutated under strain.

  My fire gland was… mutating.

  And before I could process what that even meant, I felt another presence coalesce behind me.

  Someone, or something, had just entered the chamber.

  Jade (the not-so-smug infiltrator): Currently experiencing her worst enemy: mutation pain.

  Lysska (the professional decoy): Still outside. Covered in soot. Dodging explosions, hexes, and curses left and right. Waiting for Jade’s signal. Slightly anxious.

  Levko (the poor sod): Unconscious. Dreaming of being anywhere else. Possibly a potato field.

  Alina (the not-so-calm-and-polite predator): “WHY CAN’T I HIT THIS SLIPPERY BITCH?!?”

  The Dragonfire (???): ???

  +16 Adv. Chapters on Patreon!!

  Discord