Chapter Seventy-Five: Branching Off
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Ginnie and I had our reunion, but it consisted of her crying. Tris, Tilde, and Erin silently sat with us.    

“Ginnie?!” exclaimed an overprotective Catfolk, who rushed across the café, drawing the sword resting at his hip. I stood and turned, purifying his false hatred. His weapon dropped after his grip weakened, and he stumbled with small, child-like steps as his emotional face resembled his one and only, who continued to pour her heart out. The nearly empty café was drawn to the scene. 

Once they had calmed down, we all sat around the table and caught up as the drinks we ordered were delivered. I ordered a green tea that went down smoothly, and it was delicious. Tilde and Erin got milk tea, and Tris requested her coffee to be black. I didn’t know what kind of beans were roasted to make it, but it smelled pure and earthen.    

Chax offered a meek apology to the waitress for making a scene.   

After I had destroyed the goblin larvae resting inside them, they were escorted out of the dungeon by those Racoonfolk we encountered. It wasn't easy after that, but those two were saints. They looked after Chax and Ginnie for the next few weeks, nursing them back to health slowly and surely. When asked why, they merely responded that kindness was the oil that squeaked the wheels of reality, which sounded cultish to me.  

But cult or not, Chax and Ginnie were only alive and well because of their efforts. They soon got their strength back. Swimba—leader of the party that left them to die—learned of their survival not long after that. Perhaps regret tore at him like a hawk clawing its prey because he soon appeared before them, begging their forgiveness.  

But that did not happen.   

Swimba sold the brooch Ginnie received from Chax’s late mother, which was the plan, but that mere act broke up the rest of the party after they couldn’t handle the guilt. A moment of drunken greed destroyed a tight-knit group of friends. Although if this broke them up, perhaps they weren’t so close after all. But Swimba gave him the money he received after selling the brooch—he couldn’t bring himself to spend it—and Chax thrashed the back-stabbing piece of shit. He left him in a pile of his own blood and broken bones, with grim words to never, ever, ever try to come after them. “I don’t know if he’s alive or not. He was in bad shape when I walked away. I took what you said to heart. It doesn’t matter what happens in this life, I’ll never forgive him. He was a bastard, and I wish he croaked his last breath that night. However, I’ll no longer taint my thoughts with him.”  

“What happened with the other two?”  

“We don’t know. We don’t intend to try to find out, either. You know, we don’t even know your name. We’ve been referring to you as Ms. High Elf.”  

“It’s Lyudmila Springfield, but you can call me Mila.”  

“Umm... I remember the look in your eyes, Mi-Mila,” Ginnie said, stumbling over her words. She looked at Tris, Erin, and Tilde, then back to me. “Are...you doing better? We’ve been worried about you—about if we'd ever see you again.”  

“I am. Much better. You could say I’m a completely different person than the last time we met.”  

“That’s good.” Ginnie sounded relieved. She relaxed in her seat and gave a soft smile. Since they got me up to speed about them, I did the same, leaving the obvious chimeric details out of the picture. Their memories of the situation were hazy, but they remembered seeing a fairy and a Lionfolk with me. Tilde was quite happy she made such a dazzling impression. Some fairies were known to have a skill to switch them between their 'fairy' size and their ‘adult’ size, so to speak, so they probably assumed Tilde had that. As for her new appearance, they thought a similar skill was responsible.   

Regardless, that wasn’t important. Ginnie asked about Sekh, though. Since they remember her being powerful and beautiful in the bloody chaos. I just told them she was having a well-deserved rest after what happened at Ria. “You were there when that happened?!” Chax exclaimed. “But you’re fine? You and your family escaped?” 

“That’s right. We’re at the Waterdale Inn on the other side of town. I helped Captain Caulk and Lady Plymoise, so we’re staying there until we get back on our feet. But… You’re looking different. More confident, I mean.”  

“I’m glad you noticed! I have Fennecfolk in my blood, so I’m a mixed breed. When I evolved, I took their ears and kept my Dogfolk tail.”  

“Congratulations on your evolution. The ears are cute.”  

“Hehe! Thanks!”   

“Master, I have a suggestion,” Tilde suddenly said.  “A favor is more accurate. Erin, it concerns you, Longtooth, and our friends.” Tilde pointed to the couple sitting across from us.    

“If it’s something we can do to help you, then please ask!” Chax and Ginnie erupted at the same time.  

“With your permission, it makes more sense for Erin and me to adventure together to grow stronger. It’s safer for her, and I’ll never be able to help you with your work with the Bloodhounds with how weak I am as a Lv. 1. We can trust Chax and Ginnie, and I know you’ll feel better knowing someone's looking after us. I also need to train with my weapon. Knowledge is different from first-hand experience.”  

“Erin? You said you wanted to become independent, so the choice is up to you. I won’t force you to do one thing or the other, but know that I want you to remain safe above all else.”  

“I guess I was being stubborn, huh?” Erin hugged Longtooth close to her chest. I nodded. “I don’t want to make things any harder for you. Ms. Ginnie... Mr. Chax, if it’s okay with you, please...teach me. I promise I won’t be any trouble! Me and Longtooth will be on our best behavior!”  

Ginnie and Chax didn’t have a problem. They even welcomed the chance to adventure with another group—and they knew, deep down, that Tilde and Erin would never abandon or hurt them. And they had my promise and vow as a High Elf.    

As we left, they asked Erin if she was a spirit summoner. I told them it was a little more complicated than that. When they saw Surtr lounging outside, taking in the warm morning sun, they weren’t as confused or surprised as I thought. “Yesterday, we heard rumors of a High Elf riding a flaming lion. We never thought it would be you. Longtooth is a sub-servant of your spirit? Is that right?”  

“Yes. Surtr is the primary spirit. The other four are protecting my family.”   

It was just a few short seconds to get to the guild, where I left Erin and Tilde with Chax and Ginnie. My sister’s nerves got the best of her because she trembled when I hugged her. But she said she had to be strong. And I trusted her. This was something she wanted and desired to do. Tilde was playful and wanted a goodbye kiss, so after giving her one, I watched them enter the guild with our friends while I turned towards the bounty-hunting guild.   

Tilde said something about gunshots, and Ginnie and Chax showed her a pair of earmuffs designed to help with loud, sharp, abrupt noises.   

Apparently, they had purchased them in case they ran into me again.  

“Tris, keep an eye on them. They’ll probably enter a non-indexed area, but I want to know when they show back up on the map.”  

“Of course, my lord. I’ll watch over them.”   

“Longtooth is in constant communication with me, Lord Springfield. I will alert you if there is a problem.”   


“And what is this deal Lord Springfield wished you to discuss with me?” asked Gretchen Plymoise from behind her desk at the ministry. The overly verdant woman was dressed in so much green it could suffocate a magical creature rumored to live at the end of a rainbow.   

“It is a way for you and her to make money,” explained Ichiha. “In short, we have acquired nearly five complete sets of outfits woven by Holy Lord Amos.”  

“Oh?” Gretchen raised a curious eyebrow.   

“I had the same look when my daughter told me. These are the gloves Lord Amos sewed for Reina, one of his Soul Warriors. It’s said that she was buried in them, but the clothes eventually fell into my daughter’s hand by complete chance.” Ichiha retrieved the clothing from a bag she’d brought with her. While preparing for this impromptu meeting, one of her daughter’s clones knocked at her door and left the gloves. 

“I’ll have to verify this. I’m sure you understand.”  

“Of course. As a merchant, I learned to scrutinize everything that comes in. Having fake or forged merchandise and pawning them off as authentic is the quickest way to lose your reputation. I know that more than anyone.”  

“I’m glad you’re agreeable.” Gretchen rang a bell on her desk. Gerrea walked in a moment later. She promptly left to fetch a trusted merchant with the skills to verify Ichiha's claim. In the meantime, the two women enjoyed a friendly chat over a High Elf important to them both for different reasons.   

When Gerrea returned, she brought a portly man with green freckles. He verified Ichiha’s claims with a gasp of astonishment. Even with the proof, he still found it incredibly difficult to believe he held a piece of genuine history. The excitement and surprise rubbed off on Plymoise’s ruling lady’s face.   

“You’re harboring antiques from a millennial ago? It’s hard to even find inaccurate records from that time frame, yet what you hold seems like they were created just a few days ago.”  

“The craftsmanship of a Holy Lord cannot compare to those of mortals. I still find it hard to believe this came into my life.”  

“By the by, Mrs. Ichiha, you said the set was incomplete?” Ichiha nodded and stated a shirt was lost in the destruction at Ria. “That’s a shame. But the…ceremonial burial clothing, you called it? Of four of the five Soul Warriors are…”  

“Yes. They’re complete. I just brought the gloves today because my daughter keeps the rest on her person. There is no safer place than with her. And about the deal. In Ria, I had an impossible time trying to sell something so valuable. But perhaps with your outreach, Lady Plymoise, we could help each other. My daughter will provide a substantial finder’s fee for introducing me to a potential buyer. If that isn’t enough, she will assist with Plymoise's problem.”  

“You mean the war, yes? Oh, how I wish it was just a little problem.”  

“With my daughter’s strengths, perhaps it’ll be just that. She’s perceptive. Very little gets past her gaze, and she can deduce what others wish to keep hidden,” Ichiha said, working her magic. “For example, she realizes Plymoise’s supplies are in danger of running out. Ria was your closest and biggest trading partner. On the contrary, Atrix is equipped with more ships, soldiers, and food. Morale is higher, too.”   

Gretchen narrowed her eyes. “You’re not wrong, but I severely underestimated Lord Springfield’s ability to gather information. I’ve already discussed the plan with my advisors and council. I’ve sent a messenger to the Orchta to demand a Heptarchis. He’s due to return in three days.”   

“A meeting? If Atrix is rash enough to attempt an ambush, they’re foolish enough to gather the seven Vestiges. If I remember right, war between the city-states last broke out nearly 70 years ago?”  

“That’s correct. You know your history, don’t you, Mrs. Ichiha?”  

“I was born here, after all. But ignoring that, what do you say? Introduce me to someone who may be interested in relics from long ago, and you’ll have a much easier time should this turn ugly.”  

“… Your offer sounds much too good to be true. If you’re truthful, and I want to believe it is... If the Heptarchis is granted, perhaps war will be avoided through calming discussions of the city-states’ leaders. I know Atrix’s leader will ignore my demands to meet with them to talk it out, so my only hope is the Heptarchis.”   

“That is the hope, isn’t it?” replied Ichiha, who kept a perfect form throughout this discussion.   

“But hope is fickle. It’s unreliable in an age where you must grasp a problem with your hands and fight like hell to discover a solution. I’ll have to discuss it further with my advisors, but you can expect a positive response to your offer in the coming days. Perhaps by mid-day tomorrow.”  

“Of course. Something this drastic cannot be accepted without further discussion. Ah, there is one more thing my daughter wants you to know. If you require working cannons, she wishes to conduct a trade for glass, firesalts, iron, brass, and steel ingots. If you have any to spare, that is. If not, she will grant them as a favor of goodwill with the agreement that she’ll be compensated with those requested goods once the problem is resolved.”   


While en route to a cave where my target was taking refuge, I spied on the meeting between Mom and Gretchen and learned a lot. But those terms they used… While familiar to them, they didn’t mean a damn thing to me.   

Tris attempted to send a waypoint message to Tilde, but they weren’t in an indexed area. Instead, Surtr relayed my questions to Longtooth, who told Erin, who asked Tilde. Longtooth then sent the info to Surtr, who told me.   

What a wild game of telephone. They’re traveling to a cavern full of scorpions to retrieve their stingers… I hope Erin does well… I seriously need to spend more time with her.    

The Vestiges were seven shards of an ancient meteorite that crash-landed several thousand years ago. A small village built around the impact crater was called Orchta. The meteor was worshipped since it glimmered seven colors. The ancient Parthinains believed it to be shattered remains of a superior power source. As the decades passed, however, people around Orchta began to be born with distinct physical characteristics matching those colors.  

Mortal nature did as it always did, and a war of inequality erupted. Some with red eyes and hair believed themselves superior to others with green scales and freckles, and it was a period of brutal slaughter. The skirmishes and battles were bloody, with each of the seven armies fighting until the bitter end until someone with a clear mind had an idea. The meteorite was vital to the ancient Parthinains, and they didn't want to kill each other and leave their precious treasure to fall into unworthy hands. An agreement was made to divide the meteor. With a simultaneous attack of the seven leaders, the symbol of their war broke into seven pieces.  

One went to Plymoise, whose primary color was green.    

One went to Atrix, whose primary color was orange.    

One went to Riotic, whose primary color was purple.    

One went to Terokai, whose primary color was blue  

One went to Hairokei, whose primary color was yellow  

One went to Indiko, whose primary color was red.    

One went to Napoli, whose primary color was black.    

Those seven people founded the seven city-states of Parthina, which took the first letter of their names. But the last letter? The ‘a?’ No one knew why it was there. Tilde hypothesized a hidden eighth piece of the meteorite, but she didn’t know.    

But that explained why most of Plymoise’s citizens had green hair or scales. A search for the Vestige or meteorite didn’t give me a hit, so it was either elsewhere or went by a different name.   

Orchta was something like a holy ground where conflict was barred. It worked as a place for the seven leaders to meet and discuss business. Tilde also said that this behavior was modeled after the Kingdom of Aquanis, which held a similar event called the Lord Conference for the Holy and Dark Lords to come and rationally speak of the world. They discussed the terms for summoning Soul Warriors, which needed everyone's agreement.    

In my world, the United States and the Soviet Union agreed to a treaty to limit the number of nuclear arms the other could carry. A second treaty allowed a team of nuclear scientists to examine the other’s arsenal to ensure they were stored according to the negotiated standard.   

It was about checks and balances. The Soul Warrior Summoning System was probably similar. When the Lord Conference came around, Meruria, Gloria, and the others would probably have to speak about their Soul Warriors’ abilities. Soul Warriors were a thing long before Parthina’s holy meteorite was even a spec of dust in the starry sky.   

Whenever it seemed like one city-state was about to start fighting, a Heptarchis could be declared, prompting all leaders to meet in Orchta. It was mandatory to go. Refusal to participate wouldn’t paint you in a pretty light. Attempting to use military might whilst going to one was bound for the other six to declare war on the aggressor.   

But that didn’t stop war from breaking out. It usually fell into a cycle of peace, with one city-state getting confident because things were going well, launching an attack, causing a Heptarchis to be called, which led to massive reparations.   

Treaties were worth as much as the parchment they were written on. Lies, deception, and betrayal had to be around every corner.  

But a Heptarchis wasn’t always called for mere skirmishes. In this case, it was just as probable for Orchta to ignore Gretchen’s plea.   

Why?  

I didn’t know. And Tilde didn’t know that much about the Orchta’s inner workings.    

The Atrixian government must’ve been freaking out because their surprise attack failed.   

I wish I had seen the meeting with their diplomat. It’s too suspicious to have Mom ask about it. I know he’s still in Plymoise, but he’s alone in his embassy’s office.    

“Tell Tilde I appreciate her info.”  

“… She said she expects to be back in town in six hours,” replied my lion.      

Gretchen’s conversation with Mom and Tilde’s info gave me much to think about. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do.   

Or what I wanted to happen.   

Should a war break out, the chances of me growing even stronger were very high. But did I need that attention coming my way? Surtr and my current reputation probably indicated that I was already more well-known than I would’ve liked.   

Then again, perhaps this was fate smiling for once. Power and life force were what I needed above all else. There was no need to look this opportunity in the face and snarl in its face like an ungrateful brat.   


Our destination was a series of underground chambers discovered after an earthquake split open the ground. The ravine was deep and dark, descending for a few hundred feet. It wasn’t something for the average explorer to get into without prep and training.   

But my clones needed none of that. After indexing the area with Clone!Bird, I sent another one to kill the bounty, Groxin. This Metal Orc was wanted dead because he had a habit of escorting people through dangerous areas filled to the brim with bandits and leaving them if they didn’t pay him extra for protection. And even then, he would unhook the wagon from his horse and ride away, leaving his victims to suffer a fate worse than death. There were rumors he was connected to the criminals and received money for each poor bastard left behind.   

He was a spineless coward. Lv. 37 he may have been,  Tris’s analysis of his skills caused her to conclude he only made it this far because his skin was as hard as metal. When my clone found him sleeping in the furthest depths of the chamber, four bullets to the dome weren’t enough to end his life. It did nothing but grant him a concussion, but Groxin immediately scampered away in a frightful yell.   

Metal was tough and strong, but even the most durable structure would find itself struggling against acid. A couple of [Acid Breath]-infused bullets weakened his head enough to draw blood after the vines restrained Groxin. One more destroyed his brain, causing this hunt to come to a swift conclusion.   

“That’s another 189 SP. But [Mana Perception] still requires more. It’s so expensive.”  

“Most choose to learn it manually to save the SP for something else, Lord Springfield,” commented Surtr, who yawned while he feasted on a mule deer he had hunted.    

“Easier said than done,” I replied, retrieving the corpse’s head that the clone stashed in the appropriate bag. “Come on, let’s head back and get our 23 silver.”  

Surtr devoured the rest of his meal quickly and roared. Then we hopped on his back and made the lengthy trip back to Plymoise.   

“Your mother has just left the ministry,” Tris said, hugging me from behind. “After the relevant topics were discussed, they chatted like familiar colleagues. However, there will be another meeting between Lady Plymoise’s advisors to discuss the offer given to her. However, it won’t be until tomorrow morning at the earliest, but I predict a small chance of her requesting your presence before then.”  

“Anything else?”  

“Lady Plymoise knows of your bounty hunting, so I suspect that will come up should she strive to have an audience with you.”   

“That makes enough sense. Use a portion of your resources to keep an eye on them. If they say anything important, let me know right away.”   

“Understood.” 


Longtooth informed Surtr that they were ten minutes away from reaching the guild when we turned in the bounty. We spent that time at the café, enjoying delicious tea outside the entrance while ordering a large bowl of milk for my lion.   

He would be fine without eating, but it increased his stamina’s recovery. The mana inside what he ingested was turned into pure energy, so it was like digestion but on an accelerated scale.  

“Maaasterrr!!!” Tilde shouted once she came into view. My fairy ran ahead and leapt into my arms.  She and Erin reached Lv. 3, and I got 23 SP from the loyalty system’s sharing effect.   

I still needed much more. Much, much, more.    

I welcomed Erin and Longtooth back once they reached us. Ginnie complimented Tilde’s accuracy with her gun. After they turned in the quest, I invited Chax and Ginnie to have dinner with us, and I was happy they accepted it.   

“If you’re offering, Mila, we’ll gladly accept it.”   

I’m so happy they’re doing better.   

On the way back, we chatted about Erin and her surprising adeptness at fighting. She was small, so those daggers were perfect for her—once she obtained the [Dagger] weapon skill, that was. But without it, she could still stab her enemies with the pointy end, which she did after Longtooth used their flames to create a ring around the scorpions. It would always go down right when Erin sleuthed around its rear to stab it.   

The vines emerging from the wounds endlessly battered its prey with powerful slams. At the cost of expending mana, Erin could force the vines to act in a specific way, which she did to restrain any other scorpions. The openings allowed Tilde to pick them off.   

I told Erin I was proud of her and rubbed her head. “I wanna help the family. I don’t wanna be…like how I was before. Mom and Dad… You and Irisa… I’m…happy when you rub my head like that. It makes me feel fuzzy inside. Longtooth told me about image training last night. I just kept imagining us in a fight with a monster, and Longtooth really helped me. I know I have a long way to go. It was scary, but…”   

Ginnie and Chax said they saw potential in her, which made the Catfolk blush harder.    

“You don’t have to reinvent yourself in a day. Or a week. Or even a month. Go at your own pace. Do what’s comfortable. No one’s going to blame you, okay? I won’t let them.” I rubbed my sister’s head again and watched her tail swoosh through the air.    

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