Chapter 29
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GorMartsen
Advanced tech is indistinguishable from magic
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AN: Small but meaningful changes to the final scene of the previous chapter. Please read it first.
Location: Hope, A-class planet, E-zone (blue)
Date: April 9 2728 — Standard Earth Calendar (SEC)
Pulling my gaze away from the cenote's entrance, bright in the morning light, I looked around.
The broken stone and ice chips were scattered around me, across the frozen water. The dust, yet to settle, was hanging in the air, whirling with the slightest breeze. The pool of blood under my feet, slowly growing, was adding a heavy metallic scent to the air.
And the bodies. Bloody bodies.
Averting my eyes, I looked back at the ledge. It was frozen too, covered in a thick layer of water frozen in mid-rise. There was nothing left of my camp that I had there.
Bastards.
L: [ Detecting no hostilities. Confirm V-1 status ]
K: [ He is gone ]
L: [ Roger. Objectives? ]
K: [ We have to move. Position is compromised ]
L: [ Affirmative ]
L: [ You did well ]
A chuckle escaped my lips, making Lola's necklace clatter against my teeth.
"Are you harmed?" she asked aloud, her voice gentle in my ears, and I looked down at my body.
I was covered in blood and dust, but that wasn't mine. Wash, I needed to wash it off.
K: [ I am fine ]
Avoiding looking at the centre of the cenote, I walked to the far edge that was almost intact, somehow. Just frozen.
Placing the crumbled and bloodied map and the coin on the ice, I set my needler on top of it and reflexively spun the subspace claw in my right hand.
Wash, I needed to wash.
Stepping aside, I switched to the hex-field and, adding a few more steps just in case, forcefully stuck the subspace claw into the ice surface, crouching over.
I had no spare charge in my hex-field to feed the claw, but I didn't care. I pushed all I had in my core instead.
And it worked.
The ice hole formed around the claw instantly, cutting through the thick layer of ice, and I felt its weight in my hand, weighted by the claw.
I let gravity pull me down, falling into the ice hole with my eyes closed.
Wash, I needed to wash.
The water accepted me with a splash and pulled me deeper, dragging me by the subspace claw. I didn't fight it.
Weightless, drifting down, I ignored my intrusive thoughts.
It wasn't my first kill.
It wasn't.
But it was the first time I had seen—I had caused—death within arm's reach.
So much blood.
It was so different back there, in space. Impersonal. Cold. Just a number on your mission report.
L: [ I had been thinking ]
Shaking my head, trying to push my thoughts away, I opened my eyes and looked up at the bright spot of the hole in the ice above me. Small but bright.
K: [ About? ]
Averting my eyes, I looked into the darkness under me and focused on my senses, reaching deeper. There was commotion at the cenote's bottom.
Fish beasts.
L: [ V-1. I was analysing their speech for deviations from the Standard English and found an anomaly ]
Turning away from the bottom and the beasts that were fighting there, most likely over the crystal cores washed off the ledge, I dropped the hex-field.
K: [ And what did you find? ]
The cut-out piece of ice manifested itself at my side and began to rise to the surface. I watched it for a moment before starting off to the surface myself, racing against it.
L: [ 94% probability they are female, pretending to be male ]
Passing the piece of ice, I pushed through the hole and flew out of the water into the cenote. Helping myself with the tail, I arced for a moment through the air and landed on the ice in a three-point stance. The ice-tipped claw, still attached to my tail, struck the ice by my side, carried by its weight.
K: [ Perhaps she was just cautious ]
L: [ Perhaps ]
Straightening up, I pulled my tail free and began to wipe the water off my body. There was no more blood or dust on my skin.
K: [ Anything else? ]
L: [ I have positive progress with speech recognition, but the reliability is still low to my liking ]
Of course.
Somewhat dry, I turned back to the place where I had left the map with the coin and my needler.
It was all I had left.
"You need to loot them," Lola said gently in my ears.
"I know," I replied, pushing the necklace under my cheek again. "I know."
—
Pulling on the cloak, I flipped the nasty-voice body over. It rolled over with a wet sound, and I saw the back of the blond head.
Or whatever was left of it. The exit wound was messy.
The cloak came free, and I dropped it by my side, next to the curved swords. Leaning over, avoiding touching the soaked in blood back, I checked for the pockets—finding none—and reached for the heavy metal chain I saw peeking from under the leather jacket.
It was a silver-looking chain, thick as my index finger, with a strange lock holding it together.
Unfastening, I pulled it free, and a heavy medallion appeared from under the jacket, leaving a trail of quite familiar shining grains.
The broken core.
Its remains were sitting in the slot at the centre of the silver medallion, slowly crumbling down on the ice.
Gently setting it aside on the cloak, I turned back to the body and began to search blindly for the buckle release at its waist. A few moments of struggle, and it came free.
Leaving it loose, I stepped to the feet and looked at the boots. They didn't look like they were in my size—a bit on the larger side than I had—but just in case, I still checked, pressing my right foot against the left boot.
Nope.
Still, I bent over to pull them off. The boots' laces were dirty and quite messy, and I cut them before pulling the boots off, releasing a few days-old aroma of unwashed feet.
Ew.
To my surprise, the feet were covered in some sort of dark fabric—a poor imitation of my underlayer. Or so I thought, until I pulled the leather pants off the legs. There was no one-piece fabric underlayer, just separate pieces covering the feet and the body's butt.
I left it on, returning to the bloodied leather jacket.
To my annoyance, it didn't want to come free either, almost daring me to roll the body over. I cut it along the sides instead.
There was nothing hidden beneath it, just another piece of fabric, tightly covering the torso.
And a pouch hidden at their waist, with a single spark, unfamiliar to me. It looked like a short tube, made of a mushroom-like matter.
Leaving the now stripped body alone, I threw the boots and pants on the cloak and dragged it to the next body. The leader.
Stopping at his side, briefly glancing at his face, frozen in surprise, I bent over to pick up his spear. It was heavy.
The spearhead was massive, at least one fourth of the spear's length, and covered in strange dark lines standing out on its metal surface. They reminded me of what I saw on the formation banners in Sir Ivor's camp.
Tracing lines along the spear shaft, feeling a tingling in my fingers, I found a sealed compartment at the heel. At least it looked like the one. It failed to open when I tried.
Later.
Putting the spear down on the ice by the cloak, I began to repeat the process. The boots, pants and the jacket.
It was easier this time.
The boots were in better shape and had buckles instead of laces. The leather pants were robust and quite unyielding, secured with ties rather than a belt. And his jacket was one and a half sizes larger than my frame.
He had fabric on his feet too, and some covering his modesty and most of his torso, leaving his arms free.
Why not use a one-piece?
The pouch he had around his neck was heavy, and I found a few more golden coins, together with a strange bone plate, and a familiar river-rock spark—the icicles' ability.
Dropping the pouch on the cloak, I almost stepped on his right hand and noticed a silver glint coming from his finger.
Bending over, I pulled on the hand, looking closer. There was a ring on his index finger. But most importantly, I spotted the same lines running along its wide band. The same dark lines I just saw on the spear.
Artefact. It was another artefact. I had no doubt.
It didn't come free as easily as I had hoped, and, wrinkling my nose, I cut the finger off, not wasting time. The ring came free after that, and I looked at it more closely, finding even more dark lines on its inner side.
But it was impossible to tell what it was for.
Dropping it on the cloak, next to the medallion and pouches, I moved to the next body.
The pointy helmet guy's body, now without the helmet and its head.
Ignoring the bloody cape, I searched for the pouch and patted for any hidden pockets, but found only a wide belt with a huge buckle and a sheath with a knife.
It was almost a normal-looking knife, yet still covered in dark lines along its blade and on the handle. And this time, the core wasn't hidden. It glowed orange at the end of the handle, tightly secured by an intricate lock, made of orange-brown metal.
Copper?
Dropping the belt with the sheathed knife on the cloak, I looked towards the last body. The younger one, smiling at me with its ugly double smile.
Coming to its resting place, I looked closely at its face. It looked as if it were alive, just a bit out of colour. And sleeping.
Shaking off the eerie feeling, I bent over and checked his clothes. They were not made of leather, but of a fabric with a few leather pieces attached at the knees and elbows.
It also looked quite expensive, with its intricate seamwork and subtle silver adornment along its edges.
It left me guessing who it was all the time I was carefully pulling them off the body. I doubted I would ever know. But what really mattered to me was the owner's size. My size.
Pulling off the pouch at last, I dropped it on the cloak without even checking what was inside.
I had already wasted enough time.
Instead, I began to bundle my new clothes, securing them with an intricate leather belt. I wasn't going to put them on without washing them first, but this was no longer a safe place to do that.
L: [ Detecting activity on the surface ]
My guts twisted, and I heard the same sound that alerted Lola. Slithering.
Shit.
L: [ with 91% certainty, it's a snake-type beast, at least thirty metres long ]
Glancing towards the cloak—and at all the things I had picked up—I weighed my options. But only for a moment.
It was too much to carry on my back at such short notice. And I had no time to pack it properly.
K: [ Roger ]
Grabbing the pouches, the medallion and the ring in a rush, I pushed them deep into the bundle of fancy clothes and hauled it on my back. My gaze landed on the belt with the knife and, barely thinking it through, I fastened it over my shoulder before picking up the spear.
Hurry.
Pushing with the moose's powers, I negated the spear's weight and soared towards my things, left on the ice. The map and the coin with my needler and the subspace claw next to it.
Faster.
Dropping the bundle and the spear on the ice, I stuffed everything inside it too, feeling the approaching danger in my guts.
Glancing around for the last time, making sure nothing was left behind, I picked up the spear and, straightening up, hauled the bundle onto my back.
The slithering didn't get above us yet, but it was closer than I hoped.
K: [ Leaving now ]
Wrapping myself in invisibility, I jumped up towards the exit, pushing with the moose's powers to go faster.
The danger twisted in my guts when I had almost reached the exit, and I abruptly pulled myself sideways, harshly hitting the ceiling by the entrance.
There was no incoming attack, no one jumped in, and nothing else had changed. And the snake—it was still good fifty metres away.
Holding onto the bundle, I began to drop, not taking my eyes off the cenote's entrance.
There is something else. Or someone.
K: [ Unknown incoming. Possibly cloaked. Leaving the cenote from the entrance is a no-go. Options? ]
L: [ Use the underwater passage ]
Right.
Touching down on ice by the cloak, I dropped the spear and pulled the cloak free from the clothes I had collected.
It fluttered in the air before landing by my side, slightly tangled. I dropped the bundle from my back in the middle of it and began wrapping it, sealing it with one of the belts.
Hopefully, it will hold against the water.
Finishing it, I grabbed the spear again and rushed to the hole in the ice I had made before, only to find that it wasn't wide enough to pass through with the bundle.
Shit.
Switching to the hex-field, I pointed the spear at the hole, ready to push the energy into it the way I did with the claws, but stopped, noticing how the blade extended, wrapped by my hex-field.
Now, out of all the times?
Dropping the bundle, I traced a wider circle around the hole and made sure the ice got loose. It did, and I pulled the ice block onto the ice, using the spear as the lever.
The hole was wide enough now to go through, but it was also a trail to follow.
Pushing the heel of the spear under the belt holding the bundle together, I lowered it into the water without a splash, and it began to slowly sink under the spear's weight.
Good.
Turning around, I picked up the ice block and, holding it with the moose's powers, began setting it back, hiding my trail as best as I could.
And as soon as it did, I took a breath in and, with a last glance towards the light above me, slid into the original hole myself, catching a glimpse of the movement from above at the last moment.
Something hit the ice above me, and the cracking of ice echoed through the water. I looked up, expecting the chase.
And another fight.
Neither came.
Instead, I heard voices.
"It's young master!" said a male voice, muffled by the water. "Someone killed him!"
"Step aside," another, older voice said, "Let me check."
I didn't dare to move, slowly sinking down. If I were able to hear them, then…
"No, they didn't," said the older voice, adding, "but they clearly tried. A few more minutes and it would have been too late."
"John, I need stretchers, a blanket and someone to kill that snake," the voice continued, making my brows rise.
How?
"One moment, Sir," replied another calm and deep voice, and the ice above me cracked again.
There was some shuffling on the ice and a faraway rumbling of thunder after that, although it quickly died.
"Mark, look around. I need to know what had happened here," the old voice broke the silence again, but this time it was more muffled by the water.
I was deep enough to begin to move. Or so I hoped.
Twisting around with the help of my tail, I slowly began to row through the water, not really risking using my moose's powers.
"It was one human, Sir. Most likely Expert, or seasoned Specialist with high-ranking mobility, Sir," said a new, measured voice.
The ranking didn't make sense to me, but the mobility? The leader was clearly as fast as I was, or just a touch slower. Something wasn't right here.
"There are signs of the Horned Moose's powers, Sir," he added, interrupting my thoughts.
"The House of Alzar?" asked the old voice as I reached the bottom and saw the spear.
Grabbing it slowly, I turned towards the underwater tunnel I had visited before. The one that led to the other cave.
"Mark, I have to go with Sebastian, but you will stay behind and will find this horned Expert. You hear me? I need to know if it was the doing of Alzar House," I heard when I was almost at the tunnel, and my guts twisted.
It wasn't good. Not good at all.
Location: Hope, A-class planet, E-zone (blue)
Date: April 9 2728 — Standard Earth Calendar (SEC)
Pulling my gaze away from the cenote's entrance, bright in the morning light, I looked around.
The broken stone and ice chips were scattered around me, across the frozen water. The dust, yet to settle, was hanging in the air, whirling with the slightest breeze. The pool of blood under my feet, slowly growing, was adding a heavy metallic scent to the air.
And the bodies. Bloody bodies.
Averting my eyes, I looked back at the ledge. It was frozen too, covered in a thick layer of water frozen in mid-rise. There was nothing left of my camp that I had there.
Bastards.
L: [ Detecting no hostilities. Confirm V-1 status ]
K: [ He is gone ]
L: [ Roger. Objectives? ]
K: [ We have to move. Position is compromised ]
L: [ Affirmative ]
L: [ You did well ]
A chuckle escaped my lips, making Lola's necklace clatter against my teeth.
"Are you harmed?" she asked aloud, her voice gentle in my ears, and I looked down at my body.
I was covered in blood and dust, but that wasn't mine. Wash, I needed to wash it off.
K: [ I am fine ]
Avoiding looking at the centre of the cenote, I walked to the far edge that was almost intact, somehow. Just frozen.
Placing the crumbled and bloodied map and the coin on the ice, I set my needler on top of it and reflexively spun the subspace claw in my right hand.
Wash, I needed to wash.
Stepping aside, I switched to the hex-field and, adding a few more steps just in case, forcefully stuck the subspace claw into the ice surface, crouching over.
I had no spare charge in my hex-field to feed the claw, but I didn't care. I pushed all I had in my core instead.
And it worked.
The ice hole formed around the claw instantly, cutting through the thick layer of ice, and I felt its weight in my hand, weighted by the claw.
I let gravity pull me down, falling into the ice hole with my eyes closed.
Wash, I needed to wash.
The water accepted me with a splash and pulled me deeper, dragging me by the subspace claw. I didn't fight it.
Weightless, drifting down, I ignored my intrusive thoughts.
It wasn't my first kill.
It wasn't.
But it was the first time I had seen—I had caused—death within arm's reach.
So much blood.
It was so different back there, in space. Impersonal. Cold. Just a number on your mission report.
L: [ I had been thinking ]
Shaking my head, trying to push my thoughts away, I opened my eyes and looked up at the bright spot of the hole in the ice above me. Small but bright.
K: [ About? ]
Averting my eyes, I looked into the darkness under me and focused on my senses, reaching deeper. There was commotion at the cenote's bottom.
Fish beasts.
L: [ V-1. I was analysing their speech for deviations from the Standard English and found an anomaly ]
Turning away from the bottom and the beasts that were fighting there, most likely over the crystal cores washed off the ledge, I dropped the hex-field.
K: [ And what did you find? ]
The cut-out piece of ice manifested itself at my side and began to rise to the surface. I watched it for a moment before starting off to the surface myself, racing against it.
L: [ 94% probability they are female, pretending to be male ]
Passing the piece of ice, I pushed through the hole and flew out of the water into the cenote. Helping myself with the tail, I arced for a moment through the air and landed on the ice in a three-point stance. The ice-tipped claw, still attached to my tail, struck the ice by my side, carried by its weight.
K: [ Perhaps she was just cautious ]
L: [ Perhaps ]
Straightening up, I pulled my tail free and began to wipe the water off my body. There was no more blood or dust on my skin.
K: [ Anything else? ]
L: [ I have positive progress with speech recognition, but the reliability is still low to my liking ]
Of course.
Somewhat dry, I turned back to the place where I had left the map with the coin and my needler.
It was all I had left.
"You need to loot them," Lola said gently in my ears.
"I know," I replied, pushing the necklace under my cheek again. "I know."
—
Pulling on the cloak, I flipped the nasty-voice body over. It rolled over with a wet sound, and I saw the back of the blond head.
Or whatever was left of it. The exit wound was messy.
The cloak came free, and I dropped it by my side, next to the curved swords. Leaning over, avoiding touching the soaked in blood back, I checked for the pockets—finding none—and reached for the heavy metal chain I saw peeking from under the leather jacket.
It was a silver-looking chain, thick as my index finger, with a strange lock holding it together.
Unfastening, I pulled it free, and a heavy medallion appeared from under the jacket, leaving a trail of quite familiar shining grains.
The broken core.
Its remains were sitting in the slot at the centre of the silver medallion, slowly crumbling down on the ice.
Gently setting it aside on the cloak, I turned back to the body and began to search blindly for the buckle release at its waist. A few moments of struggle, and it came free.
Leaving it loose, I stepped to the feet and looked at the boots. They didn't look like they were in my size—a bit on the larger side than I had—but just in case, I still checked, pressing my right foot against the left boot.
Nope.
Still, I bent over to pull them off. The boots' laces were dirty and quite messy, and I cut them before pulling the boots off, releasing a few days-old aroma of unwashed feet.
Ew.
To my surprise, the feet were covered in some sort of dark fabric—a poor imitation of my underlayer. Or so I thought, until I pulled the leather pants off the legs. There was no one-piece fabric underlayer, just separate pieces covering the feet and the body's butt.
I left it on, returning to the bloodied leather jacket.
To my annoyance, it didn't want to come free either, almost daring me to roll the body over. I cut it along the sides instead.
There was nothing hidden beneath it, just another piece of fabric, tightly covering the torso.
And a pouch hidden at their waist, with a single spark, unfamiliar to me. It looked like a short tube, made of a mushroom-like matter.
Leaving the now stripped body alone, I threw the boots and pants on the cloak and dragged it to the next body. The leader.
Stopping at his side, briefly glancing at his face, frozen in surprise, I bent over to pick up his spear. It was heavy.
The spearhead was massive, at least one fourth of the spear's length, and covered in strange dark lines standing out on its metal surface. They reminded me of what I saw on the formation banners in Sir Ivor's camp.
Tracing lines along the spear shaft, feeling a tingling in my fingers, I found a sealed compartment at the heel. At least it looked like the one. It failed to open when I tried.
Later.
Putting the spear down on the ice by the cloak, I began to repeat the process. The boots, pants and the jacket.
It was easier this time.
The boots were in better shape and had buckles instead of laces. The leather pants were robust and quite unyielding, secured with ties rather than a belt. And his jacket was one and a half sizes larger than my frame.
He had fabric on his feet too, and some covering his modesty and most of his torso, leaving his arms free.
Why not use a one-piece?
The pouch he had around his neck was heavy, and I found a few more golden coins, together with a strange bone plate, and a familiar river-rock spark—the icicles' ability.
Dropping the pouch on the cloak, I almost stepped on his right hand and noticed a silver glint coming from his finger.
Bending over, I pulled on the hand, looking closer. There was a ring on his index finger. But most importantly, I spotted the same lines running along its wide band. The same dark lines I just saw on the spear.
Artefact. It was another artefact. I had no doubt.
It didn't come free as easily as I had hoped, and, wrinkling my nose, I cut the finger off, not wasting time. The ring came free after that, and I looked at it more closely, finding even more dark lines on its inner side.
But it was impossible to tell what it was for.
Dropping it on the cloak, next to the medallion and pouches, I moved to the next body.
The pointy helmet guy's body, now without the helmet and its head.
Ignoring the bloody cape, I searched for the pouch and patted for any hidden pockets, but found only a wide belt with a huge buckle and a sheath with a knife.
It was almost a normal-looking knife, yet still covered in dark lines along its blade and on the handle. And this time, the core wasn't hidden. It glowed orange at the end of the handle, tightly secured by an intricate lock, made of orange-brown metal.
Copper?
Dropping the belt with the sheathed knife on the cloak, I looked towards the last body. The younger one, smiling at me with its ugly double smile.
Coming to its resting place, I looked closely at its face. It looked as if it were alive, just a bit out of colour. And sleeping.
Shaking off the eerie feeling, I bent over and checked his clothes. They were not made of leather, but of a fabric with a few leather pieces attached at the knees and elbows.
It also looked quite expensive, with its intricate seamwork and subtle silver adornment along its edges.
It left me guessing who it was all the time I was carefully pulling them off the body. I doubted I would ever know. But what really mattered to me was the owner's size. My size.
Pulling off the pouch at last, I dropped it on the cloak without even checking what was inside.
I had already wasted enough time.
Instead, I began to bundle my new clothes, securing them with an intricate leather belt. I wasn't going to put them on without washing them first, but this was no longer a safe place to do that.
L: [ Detecting activity on the surface ]
My guts twisted, and I heard the same sound that alerted Lola. Slithering.
Shit.
L: [ with 91% certainty, it's a snake-type beast, at least thirty metres long ]
Glancing towards the cloak—and at all the things I had picked up—I weighed my options. But only for a moment.
It was too much to carry on my back at such short notice. And I had no time to pack it properly.
K: [ Roger ]
Grabbing the pouches, the medallion and the ring in a rush, I pushed them deep into the bundle of fancy clothes and hauled it on my back. My gaze landed on the belt with the knife and, barely thinking it through, I fastened it over my shoulder before picking up the spear.
Hurry.
Pushing with the moose's powers, I negated the spear's weight and soared towards my things, left on the ice. The map and the coin with my needler and the subspace claw next to it.
Faster.
Dropping the bundle and the spear on the ice, I stuffed everything inside it too, feeling the approaching danger in my guts.
Glancing around for the last time, making sure nothing was left behind, I picked up the spear and, straightening up, hauled the bundle onto my back.
The slithering didn't get above us yet, but it was closer than I hoped.
K: [ Leaving now ]
Wrapping myself in invisibility, I jumped up towards the exit, pushing with the moose's powers to go faster.
The danger twisted in my guts when I had almost reached the exit, and I abruptly pulled myself sideways, harshly hitting the ceiling by the entrance.
There was no incoming attack, no one jumped in, and nothing else had changed. And the snake—it was still good fifty metres away.
Holding onto the bundle, I began to drop, not taking my eyes off the cenote's entrance.
There is something else. Or someone.
K: [ Unknown incoming. Possibly cloaked. Leaving the cenote from the entrance is a no-go. Options? ]
L: [ Use the underwater passage ]
Right.
Touching down on ice by the cloak, I dropped the spear and pulled the cloak free from the clothes I had collected.
It fluttered in the air before landing by my side, slightly tangled. I dropped the bundle from my back in the middle of it and began wrapping it, sealing it with one of the belts.
Hopefully, it will hold against the water.
Finishing it, I grabbed the spear again and rushed to the hole in the ice I had made before, only to find that it wasn't wide enough to pass through with the bundle.
Shit.
Switching to the hex-field, I pointed the spear at the hole, ready to push the energy into it the way I did with the claws, but stopped, noticing how the blade extended, wrapped by my hex-field.
Now, out of all the times?
Dropping the bundle, I traced a wider circle around the hole and made sure the ice got loose. It did, and I pulled the ice block onto the ice, using the spear as the lever.
The hole was wide enough now to go through, but it was also a trail to follow.
Pushing the heel of the spear under the belt holding the bundle together, I lowered it into the water without a splash, and it began to slowly sink under the spear's weight.
Good.
Turning around, I picked up the ice block and, holding it with the moose's powers, began setting it back, hiding my trail as best as I could.
And as soon as it did, I took a breath in and, with a last glance towards the light above me, slid into the original hole myself, catching a glimpse of the movement from above at the last moment.
Something hit the ice above me, and the cracking of ice echoed through the water. I looked up, expecting the chase.
And another fight.
Neither came.
Instead, I heard voices.
"It's young master!" said a male voice, muffled by the water. "Someone killed him!"
"Step aside," another, older voice said, "Let me check."
I didn't dare to move, slowly sinking down. If I were able to hear them, then…
"No, they didn't," said the older voice, adding, "but they clearly tried. A few more minutes and it would have been too late."
"John, I need stretchers, a blanket and someone to kill that snake," the voice continued, making my brows rise.
How?
"One moment, Sir," replied another calm and deep voice, and the ice above me cracked again.
There was some shuffling on the ice and a faraway rumbling of thunder after that, although it quickly died.
"Mark, look around. I need to know what had happened here," the old voice broke the silence again, but this time it was more muffled by the water.
I was deep enough to begin to move. Or so I hoped.
Twisting around with the help of my tail, I slowly began to row through the water, not really risking using my moose's powers.
"It was one human, Sir. Most likely Expert, or seasoned Specialist with high-ranking mobility, Sir," said a new, measured voice.
The ranking didn't make sense to me, but the mobility? The leader was clearly as fast as I was, or just a touch slower. Something wasn't right here.
"There are signs of the Horned Moose's powers, Sir," he added, interrupting my thoughts.
"The House of Alzar?" asked the old voice as I reached the bottom and saw the spear.
Grabbing it slowly, I turned towards the underwater tunnel I had visited before. The one that led to the other cave.
"Mark, I have to go with Sebastian, but you will stay behind and will find this horned Expert. You hear me? I need to know if it was the doing of Alzar House," I heard when I was almost at the tunnel, and my guts twisted.
It wasn't good. Not good at all.