"She should stay awake for two to five minutes. Roughly."
"Roughly?"
I released my grip on the glove and muttered under my breath. "Come back, Laedingr."
Light peeled away from my hand, the glove dissolving into faint sparks before funneling back into the ring.
When the hum faded.
I straightened.
"Ptoo."
I spat blood to the side, wiped my mouth, then spoke.
"Yeah. Roughly, I need to improve my abilities and release a personal curse before I can fully cure her."
"Before that, since I now half-fixed your serpent issue and temporarily fixed your mother's terminal illness. I'll need to withdraw my down payment."
Cwal was quiet for a moment.
"And since I promised my life in return, you now have control over half of it," he said.
I let my shoulders relax, tension finally leaking out of me.
"Well," I replied, "that pretty much sums up our situation. So what is your move?"
Cwal did not answer right away. He turned back toward Mary. For a moment, he simply stood there, looking at her.
Then he smiled.
"I think.....I will lie down with her for a bit," he said quietly.
I watched him and felt something shift.
How often had anyone seen his face like that?
Never.
He was known as an enigma, a man who never felt for himself nor for those who fell by his hand.
May everything sleep in your pale touch, Snow White.
That was what his comrades called him. A greeting. An acknowledgment. A reminder that he was nothing more than a harvester of death.
Yet the smile he wore now told a different story. Quite proof that this cold tool was still human.
Mary's eyes fluttered beneath closed lids. Small movements. Restless. She was close to waking up.
I turned toward the door. "I think you two have a lot to talk about," I said. "I will leave you to it."
"Matt," Cwal called.
I did not look back.
"Thank you."
Warmth spread through my chest, slow and unfamiliar. I could not remember the last time someone had thanked me like that.
I kept walking. The door slid open automatically. I stopped just before stepping through.
"Do not thank me," I said.
Then I added, "Seeing even a fraction of your real self is more than enough payment."
The door closed behind me.
Muffled voices followed behind me.
I left them their privacy and headed back toward the elevator we came from, the sound of their quiet reunion lingering longer than it should have.
______________________
The next day at the Excellia Training Grounds.
"Pft… huhuhu… hahahahahaha."
Laughter bounced off the stone walls, sharp and merciless.
"Fufufufu," another voice followed, quieter, clearly trying and failing to hold it in.
"Seriously," Tasora said between laughs, wiping at the corner of her eye. "You should switch professions to a pierrot, Matt. Your performance rivals theirs."
Nagi covered her mouth, shoulders shaking. "You tried so hard, though."
The reason for their amusement hung directly above them.
I was dangling upside down from the ceiling.
My own chains had wrapped neatly around my leg, cinched tight, leaving me swaying gently back and forth like an offering to gravity. Every small movement sent me drifting in an arc, my hair brushing the air.
This had started innocently enough.
I had asked Tasora for advice on using my loom more efficiently. We were practicing with Laedingr's chains, experimenting with control and precision. She suggested expanding its use beyond combat. Scouting. Stealth. Fine-tuned movements.
Somewhere between that suggestion and reality, this happened.
"Remember," Tasora called up at me, pointing. "No thrum usage. The moment you do, you pay for dinner. For three. Kekekek."
This bitch....
"Um," Nagi said, looking up at me. "Do you need help?"
Of course I did.
But the moment I said yes, Tasora would call it cheating and make me pay anyway.
I clenched my jaw.
Dammit. I really thought I had this one in the bag. Swinging chains with my arms was manageable. Fine-tuning repulsion and compression while suspended was a completely different lesson.
I looked down.
Too far.
Way too far.
Thats probably fatal....
At least five stories. I was a weaver now, sure. But I was not an ichor type. Gravity still applied to me in a very cruel way.
I swung slightly to take a glance at the mastermind, Tasora.
How was this considered a lesson.
Losing was not an option either. I had zero money left. Every last bit went straight into Maku's company investment.
So it was either risk death or become even more broke than I already was.
…
…
…
"Haaaaaaah…"
A long, defeated sigh escaped me.
"Guess I will die then."
I recalled Laedingr and let myself fall headfirst.
"WAIT WHAT!"
Nagi moved instantly, sprinting forward and catching me just in time, arms straining as she absorbed the impact.
"Warn me first, moron," she snapped, breathless.
"If I did," I said weakly, "I would have to pay."
She stared at me, then let out a long sigh of her own and set me down.
I stood up and bowed slightly. "Thanks."
"Ahhh," Tasora said, stretching, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "That was refreshing."
She walked closer, circling me once, looking at my gloves, which were no longer there.
"I think I get why you chose that specific loom now. It is versatile. Surprisingly adaptive. The user, though, is kind of a nutjob."
"Thank you for the humble assesment" I retorted.
I rubbed the back of my neck. "You know, I think I preferred the version of you from when we first met. You talked less."
She grinned. "You dug your own grave. You made yourself my student. Not my problem."
A strange chill crawled up my spine.
I stiffened.
"Hah… I guess that is it for today."
Tasora felt it too. She clicked her tongue.
"Yeah, yeah. Take your sorry self and that weirdo somewhere else," before leaving the room herself.
Nagi pointed at herself, chest fallen. "I am a weirdo?"
I patted her head. "She is not talking about you. Go wash up. I need to tell the staff we are done here."
"All right," Nagi said, brightening. "I will cook dinner tonight. Anything you want?"
"I will leave it to the chef."
"Aight. See you then."
She waved and headed off.
The training grounds slowly settled, the echoes of laughter and clashing metal sinking back into stillness.
"Tasora is used to it now. How's that for a change?" I said in the air.
The air shifted behind me.
A boy with pale blue hair stood there as if he had always been part of the scenery, hands tucked into his pockets, posture loose.
"It is fine," he said calmly.
"Fighting her might be impossible, but ninety percent of assassinations do not involve combat. Her head would roll before she realizes anything is wrong."
I turned to face him.
"Well, as much as I hate that girl, I still care about that bastard. The moment you harm her…"
I let the sentence trail off.
"I think you already know what I would do."
He nodded once.
"Do not worry. If I am ever given a mission to assassinate her, I will give you a heads-up first. I will ask for your permission."
"Hah," I muttered.
"I guess that counts as an improvement."
Silence settled between us for a moment before I spoke again.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Two things," he replied.
"A report and an inquiry."
"Go ahead."
"First, Mary's health has not directly improved, but just as you predicted, her waking time has increased. Ten minutes and twenty-seven seconds, to be exact."
"Oh?" I blinked. "That is even better than I thought."
Relief crept in, quiet and steady.
"That is good. Unfortunately, I do not think I can return to her immediately. I still need time to recover from the backlash of curing her."
"That connects to my inquiry," he said.
"You mentioned needing to cure a curse. I have extensive knowledge dealing with curses. One of my comrades is needlessly talkative and insists on sharing everything she knows. If I may be intrusive, what curse are you afflicted with?"
"Oh, that, I know what it is. A variant of vampirism."
"Oh, that is simple then," he replied easily.
He drew a knife and turned his arm slightly, already preparing to cut.
"No. Stop," I said quickly.
"I already tried that. It does not work."
"Oh?" He paused.
"All vampirism curses require blood consumption as a cure."
"Yes, except I need a specific person's blood."
"That is easy enough," he said without hesitation.
"Just tell me the name."
"Solaris Apparecio Celestine."
...
....
....
"…I take that back," Cwal said at last.
He thought for a while, eyes unfocused, fingers tapping faintly against his arm.
"Still, it might not be impossible."
I crossed my arms. "I will not accept any method that involves her being hurt."
"Hm," he muttered. "
You are making this unnecessarily difficult."
....
....
Another pause.
"I think it is still doable," he said finally.
"A way for her to remain unharmed while still obtaining blood."
"How much do you need?"
I opened my status window.
_________________________________
〈 STATUS PANEL 〉
Name: Matthew Pier Salinin
Weaver: Conceptual Astute Weaver
Race: Human (Stabilized)
Core: Blue
Potential: SS
_________________________________
Authority: Verde's Curse.
Origin: Verde
Status: Passive
Effect: Reduces Mind Stat by 5 stages unless the user consumes the required nourishment.
Required Nourishment:[Polaris's Blood]
_________________________________
"I think any amount would work."
I looked back at him. "Even a drop or two."
"Then this method will work perfectly," Cwal said.
"Oh yeah?" I asked. "And what method is that?"
"It is simple, I'll just steal one of her used sanitary napkins."
…
…
…
My thoughts stopped completely.
"Excuse me, what?"
"If only a small amount of blood is required, then menstrual blood would suffice. She would not be harmed in the process," he explained calmly.
A vein in my forehead twitched.
I stepped forward, patted his arm once, then slowly clenched my hand into a fist.
"Hey," I said calmly, voice tight.
"Since I technically own half your life now, can I beat you half dead?"