NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter-162 Final Sacrifice
After the completion of the Elementalist subtype, Ewan focused on the cave. But it was far more stubborn than he expected. It subverted his already bloated estimate of a few months and had occupied his afternoons for almost a year. The lingering energy in the traps dragged one mortal down after another. If Ewan hadn’t timed his actions to match the riots and the clashes happening in the city, where the death count was rising with each skirmish, the list of disappearing beggars would’ve already attracted scrutiny. Still, the fact that he succeeded in doing so with no hiccups for a year put him on guard. He wasn’t the strongest around, and he might not be the wisest around. How could anyone, especially the Ensils, not even notice his actions?
Nevertheless, these suspicions alone weren’t enough to give up on the cave. He spent too long and too much on it, he needed to see its end. And finally, it was in sight—one more sacrifice and the cave’s defenses would crumble.
“Boss,” Kidd said, leading a man to Ewan, playing with a leafed branch, his mask chained at his waist. “Everything went smooth, no one cares about what we do here.”
“Hmm.” Ewan nodded, getting up from the arcing root and looked at the man. The baggy overwashed t-shirt hanging from his emaciated shoulders, the carelessly folded hems of the faded-navy trousers, the shoes with broken soles, the scars crisscrossed on his arms and neck, and his dead drooping eyes conveyed his story. The man washed well, the smell of turmeric shampoo and the soaped sun-kissed skin with tan lines presented a neat front, yet he exhaled the breath of gloom and despair, as if he would jump off a cliff if let loose.
He had a past, but who didn’t…
“Twenty-five Creliths, walk inside the cave and go as far as you can,” Ewan said to the man.
“Will I die, sir?” the man asked, glancing at the cave.
“You won't, if you’re lucky,” Ewan said, keeping his journal inside his claw-ring and taking out a pouch full of Creliths. “You’ll find several pouches like this on the way, you can keep them if you live in the end.”
“If I don’t go in, will you kill me?”
Ewan looked at the man for a breath, and Kidd too stopped irritating the squirrel and looked over. “I’m not giving you a choice,” Ewan said, and readied his <Enthrall> spell. The main usage of this spell over the year was on the testers—enhancing their greed and muffling their vigilance.
“If I survive at the end, and you get what you want, will you kill me because I know too much?” the man asked. “Can you please not kill me, sir? I don’t want to die.” His words didn’t match his state, his lost eyes didn’t belong to a man begging to live.
“Can't do that, this is important to me,” Ewan said, and reached his hand out with the spell circuit brimming with Mystic-Anima.
“I can be of use to you, I work with woods and metals, I’ve built ships,” the man said. “I’ve also spent several years on the ocean; I know how to read the stars.”
Ewan halted the Mystic-Anima and cancelled the spell circuit, staring at the man. When he was thirsty and longed for water, the man delivered him a well. The favorable coincidence once again sparked Ewan’s skepticism and his defenses went up. In the end, all his speculations regarding the situation only led to a defeated sigh. There weren’t any suspicious elements around the man, it was more likely that his skills just happened to coincide with Ewan’s needs. After all, Drarith was a port city, and many men were of this trade.
Paranoia wasn’t easy to cure after all….
“If you survive, I’ll think about it,” Ewan said. Even though he learned the ways of star navigation, he still wasn’t better than an experienced sailor. One mistake out in the ocean, and the diverged path would lead to his death. And even if he survived, it would still waste a lot of his time to correct his direction. If he could even do so.
“If I live, can I get something else than the Creliths, sir?” the man asked.
“What do you want?”
“Can I get the spell circuit to open my soul space?”
Ewan lifted his brows. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six this year,” he replied.
“It’s not possible,” Ewan said. “At least I don’t have a way to help you with that.”
The man looked down at the ground, his back slackening, then looked back up at Ewan. “Then can you let me accompany you? I can help you with anything you want,” he said.
“Even if you come with me, you might not ever find a way to open your soul space,” Ewan said.
“I understand, but I still wish to,” the man said. “Will you allow me, sir?”
“Fine, as I said, if you survive, I’ll consider it.”
The man bowed. “Please don’t worry. No matter what, I’ll open the path for you,” he said, and moved towards the cave. The lack of hesitation and the eagerness in his steps wasn’t of a man unwillingly walking to his death but was of a man who welcomed his end with open arms, even yearned for it. This man said he wanted to live, but he didn’t care for his life. His contrasting attitude could become an unstable variable if Ewan were to bring him along, the matter needed extra caution.
He cast <Spoor> and left the mark on the man as his back faded into the inky-black fissure.
“What’s his name?” Ewan asked.
“Don’t know,” Kidd said, as the squirrel bit his finger, snatched the acorn, and bolted away. “He’s pretty quiet and cut off, I’ve only ever seen him around his workplace in the tradesmen area. He doesn’t interact much with others too. Don’t worry, Boss, no one will know if he goes missing.”
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