Chapter 309: To tell the tale.
The morning mist over the northern training grounds of the Varas central estate tasted faintly of salt and crushed iron.
Several inanimate figures stood unmoving in the sweeping, sun bleached courtyard.
The courtyard itself was surrounded by tall basalt pillars that had been etched with ancient symbols of power.
High above, red banners fluttered against the l coastal wind, bearing the crest of the Varas bloodline alongside the emblem of the Council.
Nadia Varas leaned against the stone railing of the observation terrace, a half empty mug of dark coffee resting on the ledger beside her.
She wore a fitted black leather jacket over dark designer jeans, a black baseball cap pulled low over her blonde hair.
Her silver grey eyes squinted slightly against the sun’s glare, tracking a flock of coastal birds slowly circling in the sky.
She’s late," Nadia murmured, taking a sip from her mug. "And by ten minutes at that..."
"She isn’t late," a quiet voice replied from directly beside her shoulder.
Nadia didn’t flinch even though a lesser assassin would have jumped out of their skin.
Conrad Darklight stood mere inches away from her, his hands folded neatly behind his back.
He wore his usual loose black long-sleeved shirt and casual trousers, dark-tinted round glasses resting on his nose, his auburn hair neatly parted to the side.
There had been no sound announcing his arrival, no displaced air, no footsteps against the stone.
"You do that on purpose," Nadia said without looking at him, her lips curving into a brief, wry smirk.
"How is the archives’ favorite hermit doing today? You actually left your stacks for this..."
"Well,the Council asked politely, how could I possibly refuse, " Conrad replied, gazing down at the stone floor of the courtyard below.
"And what can I say... I was curious. A survivor from the Dark Maestro incident is rare enough. One who returns with a physical relic to tell the tale is an anomaly."
Nadia’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a sharp, pragmatic focus.
"It’s a weapon, Conrad. A strange, unnerving weapon, sure, but a weapon nonetheless. My job is to see if she can still swing it without cutting her own hand off."
"And my job," Conrad murmured, adjusting his glasses with one finger, "is to ensure the hand that wields it still belongs to her."
Nadia let out a soft sigh, turning her back to the railing and resting her elbows on it.
"You think the spear is changing her mind?"
Conrad shrugged.
"Who knows, we’ll just have to wait and see for ourselves..."
Before Nadia could respond, the heavy iron doors at the southern end of the training courtyard ground open.
Samantha stepped into the bright morning sunlight.
She wore standard light sparring gear—a form-fitting black with leather armguards, and flexible boots.
Her hair was tied back tightly, her pale face composed. But it was what rested in her right hand that drew both observers’ attention.
The spear was roughly six feet long, forged from a dark, lusterless mineral that seemed to absorb the glare of the morning sun.
The shaft was uneven, almost organic in its taper, ending in a broad, leaf-shaped blade that bore no forge marks or runic engravings.
It looked ancient, heavy, and strangely unfinished.
As Samantha walked toward the center of the courtyard, the shadow cast by the spear on the stone floor didn’t move in tandem with the position of the morning sun.
It trailed slightly behind, flickering like liquid ink.
"Damnation," Conrad whispered, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Even from where he stood he could feel the ambient flow of Umbralis in the air around the young woman and the weapon she held.
With every pulsation, the nebulous spear passively absorbed currents of umbralis within itself then released them, the phenomenon resembling a rhythmic heartbeat.
Samantha stopped a few feet from the center of the courtyard.
She looked up toward the observation terrace, her eyes filled with a stubborn determination even though a faint line of tension was evident from the creases in her brow.
"Maestro Varas," Samantha called out, her voice echoing off the basalt pillars.
"Maestro Darklight."
"Glad you could join us, Samantha," Nadia said, leaning over the rail and raising her voice. "We’re keeping this simple today. No long speeches. Conrad wants to observe your resonance with the spear."
Nadia smirked.
"I want to see if you can still hit a moving target without freezing in place."
Nadia raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
A second later, four metallic combat constructs—weighted training dummies—launched themselves off the ledge, landing on the courtyard stone with a heavy, metallic clang.
They drew blunted steel longswords and immediately began fanning out, closing in on Samantha from four distinct directions.
"Engage," Nadia commanded.
Samantha didn’t hesitate. She shifted her footwork, bringing the onyx spear across her body into a low guard.
"Come on then..."
The construct on her left struck first, its enhanced sword descending in a blinding arc.
Samantha parried, not with the blade of the spear, but with the mid shaft.
The moment the construct’s steel struck the dark mineral of the spear, there was no sharp ring of metal.
Instead, the resounding sound in the wake of the impact was muffled and heavy.
The construct’s movement stalled instantly as a coat of pale, unnatural energy erupted along its blade, fluidly spreading up its metallic forearm.
Samantha didn’t waste the opening.
She stepped inside the dummy’s guard, thrusting the spearhead directly into its core plate.
The spear glided through the reinforced alloy like parchment. The moment the blade pierced the chassis, the construct’s glowing mechanical eye dimmed instantly.
Dark, wispy threads of Umbralis surged out from the puncture mark, coiling around the dummy before collapsing it into a ruined heap of inert metal.
"Clean," Nadia remarked, her eyes shining brightly with pride.
Fast footwork. She’s integrating the spear’s reach well."
"Look closer, Nadia," Conrad said softly.
Up on the terrace, Conrad had tilted his dark-tinted glasses down slightly, his bare strange dark and gold eyes fixed on the point where Samantha’s fingers gripped the spear’s shaft.
Down in the courtyard, Samantha turned to face the remaining three constructs.
But as she raised the weapon, her breath caught in her chest.
The air around her grew suddenly cold.
The shadows beneath the surrounding basalt pillars seemed to stretch inward, reaching toward the spearhead like iron drawn to a magnet.
Then abruptly—the cadence of the match changed.