Asheva: A Summoner’s Tale – [Book-2 Complete]

Chapter-193 Lance



[Lance]

He was a servant and an adversary his whole life, subservience and ferocity blended together in him. ‘Don’t think, only follow’, the adults taught him since he was a child and ingrained the idea deep in his soul. They were his family in his adolescence but became his masters in his adulthood, and his free spirit changed with it. The fierce rivalry for status, just for standing above even if it was the bottom rung, turned ‘comrades’ into potential enemies. So, he never had peers, and he never shared a dining table with anyone, until he came to this Warship.

Schemes weren’t his forte, far from it actually, and his intentions remained pure when he picked up that signboard and wrote the words, his desperation fueling his actions. Nonetheless, he was happy the situation took this turn, even though it made him an experimental subject on the frigid metal bed.

“I just need some samples today, it won't be long,” Ewan said and approached him with his razor-sharp tools that gleamed under the lantern.

“I’m ready, sir,” Lance said, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fist.

“Loosen up, will you, it won't hurt,” Ewan said.

“Needles, sir…,” Lance said and gulped.

“Can you be any more cliched? Just think of happy stuff,” Ewan said.

Happy stuff…happy stuff… All that came to his mind was the day of the campfire on that island and working with the three to build beds and chairs for the Stormfalcon, he didn’t force his smiles these days.
A touch of frosty metal caressed his skin when his thoughts took him away, and with a sharp and flinching cut, his blood came out.

“Sir, I felt that…,” he said.

“Almost done. You were drenched in blood last time I saw you in Drarith, this much is nothing for you,” Ewan said.

“But the needles, sir…”

“Have you practiced the Reaper’s method?” Ewan asked.

“I did, sir, but only a little,” Lance said.

“Any difference?”

“Yes, sir, I felt a sticky layer of light covering my skin.”

“That should be the passive defense I talked about,” Ewan said, his hand movements ringing his metal tools one after another. “What element did you attract?”

“Element, sir? I’m not sure…,” Lance said.

“When you were practicing, what color did your weapons attract?”

“Red, sir.”

“That’s the blood element, keep it in mind,” Ewan said.

“Yes, sir.”

“If you say sir with one more sentence, I’ll jam the needle in your eye.”

“I’m sorry, si-…”

….

[Ewan]

Ewan slouched on the captain’s high-backed armchair again and summarized his findings from Lance’s test results, scratching out the dead ends and branching into new ideas. He had yet to delve deep into the experiment, many tests remained before he could get a solid conclusion, but so far, the premise was unpromising. His intention for the positive outcome was to use it on his Spellbook and turn it into an artifact connected to his life. Yet the results dimmed the light on the path forward, the sand of hope slipped away from his fist, and his frustration built up.

“Boss, I’m back,” Kidd entered the bridge and said, sprawling sideways on one of the operator chairs.

“How did it go?” Ewan asked, putting his diary away and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“They’re really out of Rigen, that longbeard was telling the truth,” Kidd said.

“What about the backup?”

“One agreed to be the mediator, but he asked for a steep price.”

“How steep?” Ewan asked.

“Market price is twenty-five Novas right now, he asked for seventy-five, including the black-market commission.”

“Triple…” Ewan sighed, and his headache worsened. “Tell him we’ll negotiate the price first. Ask him to arrange a meeting with the seller.”

The trickle of Rigen in its veins would at least bring Nightingale back to life and give Ewan better control over the Warship. With no protective shield and the dead thrusters, the metal-mammoth was a burden, and they were sitting ducks. If worst came to worst, they couldn’t run away unless they abandoned the Warship. So, even if the issue of the delay was out of his hands, he still intended to skirt around it as much as he could—being passive never agreed with him.

“Boss, what about the Verns?” Kidd asked.

“They’re not a concern, don’t mind them,” Ewan said. If the Verns signed off on the shady deals in the black market, there was no point in giving them a heads up, they would already know.
If they opposed each other, Ewan’s deal could become a bait in their internal clash if he dragged them in.
And neutrality was never an option as it would only announce incompetency on their part for not taking a bite of the fatty fish. Either way, he would keep the Verns out of his business. After all, he wasn’t trying to earn their favor, his affairs were none of their concern.

“I also saw an old acquaintance in the town,” Kidd said. “Church of smiles, they were still at it. The sun’s doing is a punishment for not smiling it seems.”

Ewan clicked his tongue. “Not again.” He groaned. “Tell Stefan and Lance to stay away too, don’t get involved in this mess,” he said. “The moment we get our Rigen, we’re out of here.”

“How much are we buying Boss?” Kidd asked.

“What we can afford. If they don’t decrease the price, we can't buy even half the tank. But I doubt they’ll have that much in stock. Hopefully, we can get a few kiloliters at least.”


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