729: Good Sword

Good Sword

"It is." Jake replied calmly as he read her face. Shifting his gaze back to Lysander, he added coolly, "You can't kill me either. None of you can..."1

This was not idle talk. Unless Kenway, Lysander's reclusive older brother, showed up, they didn't stand a chance. That was how sure he was of his new abilities.

His Strength and Agility, his previous weak points, had been amplified more than ten times their initial values. His other stats, which were already his fortes, had been multiplied by a factor of three or four. Even his Luck had increased markedly over the past few months. Adding the assets of his new Soul Class, he was supremely confident.

And this confidence, his enemies could sense. Were-beings had unparalleled instincts and senses due to their bestial lineage. Although Jake was only level 34 according to their assessment system, one had to keep in mind that his Spirit Body was 12 times denser than normal due to his bloodline.

In practice, the spiritual aura emanating from him was comparable to a level 45-50 native. It still wasn't enough to scare these elite Were-beings, but the contrast with their survival instincts that screamed disaster made the situation even more perplexing.

Qewie, the young woman who had tried to stab Jake with her magic blade, was the one most aware of his abnormality. Three months earlier his aura was much weaker, but that hadn't stopped him from defeating her foster uncle Lansho. She knew that once serious, this Guilty could summon terrifying forces, like that frightening fireball...

Just thinking about it, a cold shiver ran down her spine, her whole body covered with a thin film of sweat. Realizing that she was standing less than a meter away from such a formidable entity, she suddenly had a whole new perspective on the precariousness of her existence.

Her survival instinct and fear overriding everything else, she leapt backwards with a mighty flap of her wings, reluctantly leaving her beloved sword in Jake's hand. It was a legendary blade of her clan that had accompanied her all her life and had saved her life many times, but between life and this weapon the choice was clear.

"Good sword." Jake praised, fiddling with the weapon between his fingers with undisguised curiosity.

[Bronze Mana-Artifact: Tempest Sword: A magical sword forged by a Wad-zoos-en Grandmaster Blacksmith thousands of years ago. The handle was carved from a 500 year old Wad-zoos-en shinbone, into which was inserted several precious magical materials belonging to various mythological species such as the Thunderbird, the Storm Phenix and the Garuda. The set was then enchanted by Grandmaster Enchanters giving it its abilities. The resulting blade has its own microcosm, a mixture of wind, lightning and chaos. It has the attribute " Unavoidable ", and can shift between phases to cross obstacles at the will of its wielder. The blade can be retracted or extended as desired, but its mana consumption increases drastically. For a length of one meter, the Sword of Storms can currently remain in use for 5 minutes.]

This was his third Bronze Artifact after the Purgatory and the Black Tablet given by Astrid. However, unlike the other two items, it was not an Aether Artifact, but a Mana Artifact.

If Jake was inexperienced, he would have been immediately disappointed. But, as with the Purgatory, which was once a Grandmaster Fluid Artifact, he was hopeful that he could modify it with his end-of-Ordeal rewards. Even if it wasn't possible, with his recent progress as an Aetherist he wasn't completely out of solutions.

"Thanks for the gift." Jake chuckled tauntingly as he retracted the blade. "Just for this tribute, I'm willing to spare you."

The entire time he had been gripping the chaos blade, he hadn't dared deactivate his Oracle Shield. It was a good thing that Qewie's attack was considered over, or he would have been unable to grab it without her permission. He may have made huge strides in terms of Constitution and Vitality, but this blade could still easily cut him.

Carmin was stunned by the course of events. The surprise ambush against Jake had already made her panic, but the way he had thwarted the assault and his attitude afterwards had made her lose all her composure.

It was important to keep in mind that this ambush had been carried out in less than a second by Qewie. The other Were-beings and Lysander had not participated in the attack, nor had they tried to stop Carmin. Apart from surrounding them, they had taken no initiative and that spoke volumes about their confidence in Qewie and her sword. Even according to their most pessimistic predictions, Jake should not have escaped.

The ease with which he had foiled their strategy changed many things. Chagrined, the huge Were-Lion at the head of the group stomped forward, snarling with an intimidating air,

"Hmmph! I, Lysander, swear in the name of all Were-beings that we are ready to bury the hatchet with you and your companions if you promise not to interfere with our business anymore. Do you accept?"

That was what Jake wanted to hear, but he couldn't show it. He wasn't afraid of Lysander and his minions, but a fight here would destroy a good chunk of the Outer City. Not to mention the casualties and collateral damage, it would be like proclaiming his position loud and clear to his enemies.

On top of that, there was still the risk that those scheming bastards would take advantage of the situation to severely punish him or the other Mutants. He may have been a Player, but technically he was still part of Aisling's faction. If he cared about her trust he couldn't throw it away over a common street fight.

While Jake remained unmoved, coldly contemplating all his options with the final intention of accepting, Lysander had a completely different interpretation of his silence. The lack of response annoyed him greatly, but like Jake he didn't want to risk a battle of this magnitude in the middle of town.

But above all, a little voice inside him told him that the result of this battle would not please him much. Unwillingly and reluctantly, he offered a new incentive,

"I also promise that my clan, including all Were-felins and also what remains of the Avians and Were-birds will withdraw permanently from the conflict against Aisling and the other Mutants."

That was the most he could offer. Anything more, and he risked conflict with the other clans of Were-beings. Sable of the Were-Wolves and Lansho were dead, but in truth there were as many clans as there were animals among the Were-beings.

The three seats on the Council were very strong, but they owed their position to the strength of their respective clans. In fact, there were several dozen Were-beings with fighting power comparable to theirs. By showing up at the council, the three seats were in the spotlight, but only they knew how many enemies working in the shadows they had on their own side.

Yet Jake continued to ignore him, still thinking about the best approach. This time, a surge of anger erupted in Lysander's chest and the lion warrior snarled ominously from his throat. Just as he was about to throw diplomacy out the window and attack, Jake blurted out casually,

"Deal."

It was as if they had just been forgiven. Everyone breathed a long sigh of relief, including Carmin and Lysander. The only disgruntled one was Qewie having lost her fetish sword.

"Since we're allies, can I have my sword back?" She asked through clenched teeth trying to adopt a gracious smile.

"No." Jake sneered and turned his back to her. "Carmin, let's get out of here."

"Sure..."

Helpless and deeply frustrated, the Were-beings could only stare at them as they strutted away into the dark alleys of the slums. Once out of their sight and when even their sensitive noses could no longer pick up their scent, Lysander bowed in a sorrowful and apologetic manner,

"I'm sorry, princess. I have failed in my duty."

Qewie clutched her dainty fists as she trembled, but no tears fell from her eyes. Finally, she relaxed and her fists opened again.

"I don't blame you, Lysander." She helped him to straighten his back, displaying for the first time an angelic smile capable of warming the coldest of hearts. "It wasn't your fault. The mere fact that you agreed to accompany me here proves your loyalty. If all Were-beings were like you, Laudarkvik would already belong to us..."

Becoming solemn, the Were-lion changed the subject,

"I know that Lansho meant a lot to you, Princess. But they had chosen their side. Their bad luck was to run into this Jake guy at the wrong time, but by knowingly choosing to collaborate with these Demons and Vampires their end was foregone."

"I know..."

"In that case..." Lysander wore a hesitant expression.

"I know what you want to say, but let's wait a little longer... I'm not ready to forgive him yet, but the Were-beings' lives will always come before mine. So don't worry.

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