Chapter 2112 Fae Business (Part 2)
“Bye!” The Pixie enthusiastically waved her hand while she activated the array, giving the impression they knew each other for a long time instead of a few months.
Until a while ago, Awakened had to invest a lot of time and resources to keep their laboratories hidden. They had lived for centuries afraid that an Eldritch might barge in and rob them blind and now they had to welcome the hybrids inside their homes with open arms.
Regular Abominations couldn’t practice Forgemastering due to their inability to produce light magic so the only way they had to procure themselves powerful equipment was to steal it from others.
That and the fact that many Awakened positioned their labs above mana geysers made them into the equivalent of a full course meal for an Eldritch.
They would get to steal hundreds of years of magical research, dozens of artifacts, and would get themselves a nice place to crash until the Council forced them on the move.
After becoming probationary members of the Council, it hadn’t taken long before Vastor’s hybrids decided to use only Fae as liaisons with the Organization. Undead were unavailable during the day while humans and beasts held a grudge against them.
They would make the hybrids enter through secondary entrances and lose lots of time with security sweeps before Warping them to the real lab so that the Abominations would have no idea where it was actually located.
Fae, instead, carried from their plant progenitors an absolute respect for the law of the jungle. The strong feeding upon the weak felt natural to them like the need for breathing so as long as the killing was an act of survival and not of malice, they were okay with that.
The Fae considered now the hybrids no different from the undead and treated them the same way. They would let the Abomination access the Council’s Warping Array system without delay and even make small talk.
They would always ask Bytra for Forgemastering advice Xenagrosh and Kigan for free Origin Flames, and all of the hybrids for spicy tales from the ancient past.
To rapacious creatures like the Eldritchs, Fae came off as dumb and annoying but at the same time, they were a breath of fresh air. They didn’t judge the hybrids for their past actions nor did they tremble in fear like a lamb meeting a butcher wielding a bloody cleaver.
Being treated like a person was what every single Abomination-hybrid needed but none of them would have ever admitted it out loud, not even under duress.
In the blink of an eye, Orosir’s Warping array synchronized with that in the lair of Cenn the Oberon, bending the space in-between and making the entry and the exit point of the dimensional tunnel overlap.
The Fae had the appearance of an ever-changing mass of green whose vines turned into flowers, fruits, and saplings with no apparent logic.
The only constant was that each appendix held a different tier five Spirit Spell that the Oberon replaced with a better one the moment his diagnostic arrays provided him a better understanding of his guests’ weak points.
“Nice to meet you. Orosir sends you her regards.” Xenagrosh said with a warm and honest smile while handing him the letter and the leaf.
She was used to the unpleasant first welcome that even Fae would give Abominations. It was the only way they had to make sure that it wasn’t just a ruse to get inside their homes and take their time eating them alive.
After all, Fae didn’t hold a grudge but they weren’t stupid either.
The Oberon extended one of his vines, retrieving both objects with a whip-like movement so quick that the hybrids inwardly clapped their hands and yet so delicate that neither the paper nor the thin leaf crumpled.
Cenn ignored the document and focused on the piece of Orosir’s wing. Handwriting could be imitated and even if the letter was authentic, it could have been written under coercion.
The leaf, instead, was hard proof that the Pixie was still alive since Fae and plant folk didn’t leave a corpse behind. When someone from the plant race died, their body returned to Mogar in the original form they inhabited before gaining sentience.
It was the reason no plant folk could be turned into an undead without their consent.
On top of that, since the piece of the wing had been freely given instead of amputated, it still had a link with the main body.
Cenn couldn’t use it to talk with Orosir, but simply by studying the leaf’s aura, he could determine the Pixie’s physical and mental state at the moment when it had been removed.
Cenn felt that Orosir had given her leaf willingly while in a good mood and perfect health. The small fragment of her body was still filled with her cheerfulness and joy of living, bearing no sign that anything had endangered her life lately.
Only then did the Oberon open the letter and read its content.
“I’m sorry for earlier but I prefer being a rude host than begging for my life.” He said while his body shapeshifted into a humanoid form to put his guests at ease.
Cenn had learned from experience that while dealing with members of other races, having a definite shape was of paramount importance. Back when he was younger, Scarlett the Scorpicore had spent half her visit speaking to an apple tree before the flowerbed she sat upon had asked her to add more fibers to her diet.
“I know.” Xenagrosh replied with a sigh while throwing a meaningful look at Kigan. “It’s not your fault if our species has a bad name. Besides, it’s well deserved.”
“I mean, with that damn Golden Griffon around and its slave array, there’s no telling if someone is really friendly or under Thrud’s spell until you check their life fo- Wait, what?” The mass of greenery was still shapeshifting, yet its pseudo-face managed to express great confusion.
Cenn had taken the appearance of a man in his mid-twenties, about 2 meters (6’7″) tall, with shoulder-length blonde hair and red eyes. His slightly pointed ears came out of the golden cascade covering his head while his face showed a calm and wisdom that contrasted with his youthful appearance.
“Are you telling me it’s not us you were afraid of?” Kigan didn’t bother hiding his surprise.
“Indeed.” The Oberon nodded as the remaining foliage shapeshifted into a long-sleeved white and green robe that left only his hands and head exposed, covering even his feet.
“You came through official channels so I had no reason to doubt you aside from the possibility that you were under the influence of the slave array. Death is scary, but spending your life as a mindless puppet is much worse.”
Seeing the lingering confusion in his guests, Cenn showed them a recent memo of the Council recommending to all its members to always scan the life force of visitors before letting them in.
Among Thrud’s followers, there were ex-apprentices who knew the location of the dwellings of many Awakened. Now that the war was taking a turn for the better, the Council was afraid that the Mad Queen would try to infiltrate its ranks.
