Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Jalel raised an eyebrow from where he pretended to be dead, cocooned on the hellscape floor in some rather pathetic bindings while a lowly harpy ate his entrails. They had made it through the poorly executed “bad guy” with only slight amounts of smirking whenever the inexperienced warlock wasn’t looking. Even if Jalel did secretly hope for Riven’s demise and actually kind of was the bad guy, so to speak. He’d faked death pretty well, even if it’d been someone his own level witnessing it, but the fun was now over. He’d give his report back to the queen as instructed, and he’d tag Riven’s soul for when the barriers on the newly integrated world faltered in years to come, but the report wouldn’t be anything worth mentioning. Not in Jalel’s opinion. Riven’s performance had been subpar.

And, of course, Jalel would completely leave out the part about Riven acquiring that shard of original sin. That was far too valuable a piece of information to give even to his matriarch, because Jalel wanted it for himself one day. How Riven had gone about acquiring it was something Jalel couldn’t even begin to guess at.

True, Jalel had intervened and stopped the stone from binding to his cousin—forcing the demon in the miracle stone to remain there until Jalel was done assessing the youngster. True, Jalel had also stolen mana from Riven during the last fight in order to press him harder. He’d even stopped Riven’s normal flesh regeneration so that the young man, many centuries younger than Jalel, couldn’t repair his body at a normal rate. Part of this was to truly evaluate Riven, yes, but part of it had been in hopes that Riven would simply die so he could rip the sin out and acquire it. However, the system’s warning curses had been stacking with each intervention, and the last one had been so severe that Jalel could only quiver at the thought of what would happen should he actually be responsible for Riven’s death. Jalel had pushed the system’s limits to the outer boundary, and now he was sure that any further intervention would definitely mean his own death. If he let Riven die here and the system considered it Jalel’s fault, he was done for.

So disappointment was the only outcome. Sheer disappointment. As soon as the queen had sensed Riven’s presence shift from the outer rim to a nearby hellscape realm, she’d sent Jalel to investigate in what was no doubt a system trial.NewW novels updates at novelhall.com

Regardless, Riven hadn’t even detected the aura fluctuations that’d suppressed him, hadn’t even had a hint. He literally had zero aura detection, which was baffling to Jalel. Based on what he’d witnessed when experimenting with blood magic early on in the venture through Negrada, he could say that Riven had a decent grasp of how to utilize blood magic but nothing overtly impressive. Riven wasn’t nearly at the level at which he could be brought anywhere near the other counts lest they tear him limb from limb—and that wouldn’t be acceptable, because after this tutorial was over, Jalel would be the one to strike the killing blow in some sort of freak accident or “situational mishap.”

So he’d play the queen’s game for now and report like a good little nephew. Riven had the gift; Jalel had literally watched it happen in front of his very eyes. Malignant Prophecy was something all of the royal bloodline had, and though he couldn’t entirely make out Riven’s vision, he could still tell he’d used it to save that worthless peasant girl. Yet Jalel could barely wrap his head around the fact that someone of their blood would be so...just so goddamn worthless. Ideologies, combat prowess, and fundamental decision-making in high-stress environments were all just way off.

Perhaps he was being too hard on Riven. Jalel had been trained by the best and brightest of their empire since birth and could have dealt with these opponents as a mere child, but Riven—to Jalel’s knowledge—had only just been introduced to a violent life. He didn’t even know what he was yet, which was actually quite funny to think about and caused Jalel to smirk.

Perhaps that’s why he’d let the girl go, acquiring a malignancy point for something so lowly. To save the life of mere cattle with such a gift was unheard-of, yet to Riven, that girl had been one of his own. They were the same, in Riven’s eyes. But in truth, they were an entirely different species from human.

Jalel sighed and shook his head, merely letting out a little bit of aura to shred the annoyingly loud harpy feeding on his guts. It evaporated in an instant—unnoticed by any of the other combatants, turning to a red mist with not even a screech to let its passing be known. His eyes glowed a bright crimson and he ended the suppression on Riven’s body, immediately seeing Riven’s flesh beginning to mend itself and the mana restore at a rapid pace. The stone in Riven’s pocket reacted as well when Jalel’s mana coils let up and allowed contact, then there was a flash of power when the demon finally reached out into Riven’s soul.

Jalel rolled his eyes as the light in them dimmed to an unnatural brown color, and he went back to playing dead, letting his intestines lie out on the ground in splendid and fashionable designs like the artwork he used to paint with bodies of cattle back in his youth. He grimaced when he realized the curses applied to him by the system for interfering in the trial were still there, eating away at his stats and traits like rabid dogs, and it was likely he’d have to spend a fortune on spiritual fruits in order to get rid of them. Messing around in system-sponsored events without permission was a big no-no, and the residual curses would cost even a powerful prince of the empire such as himself an enormous sum of money that’d likely bankrupt him in the short term.

No doubt he’d have to check up on this little initiate again in the future, too, if Riven managed to survive the integration. Jalel’s part to play in Riven’s life was far from over. Perhaps Riven would die in that time and spare Jalel the effort, and perhaps then he’d be able to come collect his future prize a century or two later, but Jalel would not be caught again interfering with Riven’s trials until the integration was done. He also needed to present himself as a dutiful, loyal servant to Her Majesty lest she suspect something was amiss—and he’d even do what needed to be done to help Riven along the way as much as the system allowed to avoid suspicion, at least until the system parameters were off-line and the defenses were down. Until the moment came, he would not be seen as the one who failed her. Oh, no, the queen would have his head for that, no doubt, as she already had big plans for this unexpected heir to appear so suddenly. It’d already thrown the nobility into a frenzy, and Jalel had no wish to draw pointed glances or daggers in the night should he do something as stupid as to harm one of the queen’s pawns and other nephews before Riven’s time played out to her satisfaction.

Well...at least he’d play the part until the time was right.

That’s when a low and menacing growl echoed throughout the darkness.

Azmoth’s Demands:

WARNING: If you choose to accept this contract, this will be your second demonic familiar. Your current class only allows two.]

Azmoth? That was his name? Well, the contract was very, very to the point. It didn’t have anything Riven could pick out that rang any alarm bells. There wasn’t any reason to say no. According to Athela, contracts with summoners were a way for demons to become more powerful without any actual danger to themselves, so perhaps that’s all this really was—a win-win situation.

An irritated grunt from the darkness caused him to look back over his shoulder. He chuckled at the demon’s obvious urgency as he went over its offer...but then took a serious and hard look at the harpy back in the image. His smile faded, and his fists clenched.

“I know why you’re approaching me now, of all times—a little late, if you ask me. But why would I say anything but yes? You have yourself a deal, Azmoth. It’s nice to make your acquaintance, and hopefully I’m not dead by the time you get there.”

Riven hit the Yes for acceptance, and the purple miasma of the contract faded.