Absolute Mana Dominion: All My Talents Are SSS

Chapter 28: 28 - The Missing Man

Adrien walked past the bodies without giving them more than a glance. There were plenty of things in that camp worth checking. Money, weapons, whatever the slavers had been keeping inside the large tent, and eight strange burners that had apparently been rearranging the local ecosystem for months.

They could wait. Ariane couldn’t.

The blue-haired elf was still kneeling beside her when Adrien reached them, both hands pressed over the cut along Ariane’s ribs. White-gold light leaked between her fingers and sank into the wound in slow pulses.

Adrien watched it carefully, and Absolute Comprehension did nothing. No pressure behind his eyes. No structure opening inside his head. Nothing at all.

’So it isn’t a spell I can learn.’

That was disappointing.

’Being able to heal myself would’ve been ridiculously useful.’

He pushed the thought aside and looked down at his sister. "You really followed two strangers into the forest after Mother explicitly told you not to?"

Ariane grimaced, and whether that came from the wound or the question, Adrien couldn’t tell.

"Can we do this later? As you can see, I’m not exactly in the best condition."

"Absolutely."

Ariane relaxed slightly.

"We’ll do it when Mother is there too."

Her face fell. "Adrien."

"Later."

He turned toward the elf before Ariane could complain further. "Sorry you had to listen to that. I’m Adrien Clairmont, and I think I owe you thanks twice over. I heard an elf helped someone back at Greymoor, and now you’re helping the idiot who decided Mother’s orders were optional."

"I’m still here," Ariane muttered.

"I know. That’s why I said that."

The elf looked up while keeping one hand over Ariane’s side, and Adrien finally got a proper look at her face. Beautiful was probably the easiest word for it.

Pale blue hair had been pulled into a high ponytail with a dark red ribbon, and pink reflections moved through it whenever the fire caught the strands. Her eyes were a vivid magenta, unusually bright against very pale skin, and her long ears extended well past the sides of her hair.

She smiled before answering. "I think I should be the one thanking you. We would still be inside those cages if you hadn’t come."

The light beneath her hand faded. Ariane looked down at her side, then pressed carefully around where the cut had been.

"That’s..."

"Gone," the elf said. "Mostly. Don’t start fighting again."

Ariane immediately looked offended by the accusation. "I wasn’t going to."

Adrien looked at her, and Ariane looked away.

The elf stood and offered Adrien her hand. "Amelia Edevane. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Adrien."

Even her voice was soft. Adrien took her hand.

"The pleasure’s mine."

Amelia glanced toward Ariane before continuing. "The man at your territory. The older knight. How is he?"

"Garrick." Adrien nodded. "He’s alive. At least he was when I left."

Amelia’s expression tightened slightly. "You haven’t seen him since?"

"I came straight here after finding out my sister had disappeared." Adrien glanced at Ariane again. "So I don’t actually know how he’s doing now."

He turned back to Amelia. "If you’re willing, come back to Greymoor with us. I’d like to thank you properly for what you did, and you’ll be able to check on him yourself."

Amelia looked as though she was about to answer, and an arrow struck a corpse behind them.

Adrien turned. Another arrow followed.

The blond elf stood near one of the fires with his bow drawn, aiming at bodies. He released, and an arrow went straight through a dead slaver’s temple.

Adrien stared at him.

’Okay?’

The elf walked over and started on the next body.

’He might actually be a psychopath.’

"Lucien!"

The blond elf looked over. "What?"

"Can you stop checking whether they’re dead?"

"I’m checking whether they’re pretending."

Amelia closed her eyes for a moment. Adrien watched Lucien put another arrow into a corpse.

’Definitely a psychopath.’

"Right." Adrien cleared his throat. "I’ll leave you two to that. I need to make sure everyone else is alright."

Amelia gave him another smile. "I should check the other prisoners anyway."

She moved away toward the opened cages, and Adrien watched her for half a second before turning toward the older human prisoner.

The man’s name came easily now that he could see him properly. Vikir. He had never held an especially high position within House Clairmont, but the memories Adrien had inherited were clear about one thing: Vikir had been loyal to Alaric, and he had disappeared shortly before everything went wrong.

Adrien approached. "Vikir. I’m glad to see you’re alive."

The man had been checking the mana rifle when he heard his name, and his hands stopped.

"Young master..."

He stared at Adrien again as though the last twenty minutes had somehow failed to convince him.

"When did you awaken? How have you been? Your father..."

"Slow down."

Vikir immediately shut his mouth, and Adrien almost smiled.

"First question. Recently. Second question, I’ve been fine. A little busier than I’d prefer."

Relief crossed the older man’s face. "I’m glad to hear it, young master. Truly."

"Then maybe you can answer one for me." Adrien nodded toward the cages. "Why were you in there?"

Vikir’s expression changed. "Your father sent me to investigate something."

Adrien’s attention narrowed immediately. "Father?"

"Yes." Vikir glanced around the ruined camp. "And that investigation is how I ended up here."

"What were you investigating?"

"I’ll tell you when we’re home." Vikir lowered his voice. "It’s important, young master, and I’d rather explain it somewhere we know is safe."

Adrien studied him for a moment. "Alright."

His eyes dropped to the weapon in Vikir’s hands. "By the way, that’s a mana rifle?"

Vikir blinked. "It is. Your father gave it to me years ago, but..." He hesitated. "You already knew that, didn’t you?"

Adrien paused. "Right. Of course. Sorry. You’re a Ranger."

Vikir gave him a slightly confused look, and Adrien ignored it.

’I really need to go through the old Adrien’s memories more carefully before I create a misunderstanding I can’t talk my way out of.’

He pointed toward the large tent. "Help me search the camp before we leave. I have a feeling these people kept things worth finding."

Vikir’s expression became considerably more confident. "Leave that to me, young master. I have a technique that’s perfect for it."

’Technique.’

Adrien followed him toward the tent.

’Right. Different Paths have their own abilities. Mages call theirs spells. Makes sense the others would have techniques.’

Vikir stopped near the entrance and touched two fingers beside his right eye.

[Finder’s Eye].

Mana moved through his face, and his pupils briefly gained a thin silver ring.

"What does it do?" Adrien asked.

"Anything carrying unusual value stands out to me. Money, rare materials, enchanted objects. Even hidden compartments if what’s inside is valuable enough."

Adrien stared at him.

’So basically loot highlighting.’

This world continued finding new ways to resemble a videogame whenever he least expected it.

"And anything interesting here?"

Vikir looked around once. "Quite a lot."

They entered, and the coins came first. Several heavy purses sat inside a locked chest, along with jewellery, loose gems and items that had almost certainly belonged to prisoners.

Then Vikir stopped beside a desk. "These."

Books, and Adrien moved closer to them. Names filled the first pages. Humans. Elves. Ages where the slavers had bothered recording them, descriptions where they hadn’t known names, prices beside nearly every entry. Further in came dates, deliveries, amounts and payments.

Adrien’s expression hardened as he turned another page, and then he stopped.

Two letters appeared over and over beside the larger payments.

G.A.

Vikir had seen them too, and Adrien tapped the page.

"Gaspard Arquenay?"

"Yes." The answer came immediately, and Vikir’s jaw tightened. "That was part of what I was investigating when they caught me."

Adrien looked down at the book again. House Arquenay. Léon’s father. One of the houses that had helped destroy his own.

"Take everything."

"Everything?"

"Every book. Every letter. Every scrap of paper that looks even remotely useful."

Vikir nodded. "Understood."

Adrien closed the ledger.

’People really do love keeping records of their crimes.’

For a moment, he almost felt nostalgic.

’Reminds me of the old days.’

Outside, the camp was beginning to settle. Adrien ordered everyone to leave the black burners exactly where they were for now, because he already knew what happened when their effect pushed creatures away, and turning all eight off at once without knowing what would come back seemed like an excellent way to replace one problem with another. They would prepare first and decide what to do with them afterward.

While the others gathered food, weapons and anything worth carrying, Adrien noticed something else. The little elven girl.

Amelia checked on her constantly. Lucien somehow ended up between her and every armed human in the camp without ever making it obvious that he was doing it. The other elves gave her space as well, and too much of it.

Adrien watched the girl move toward Amelia, and Lucien immediately shifted with her.

’That’s interesting.’

This wasn’t how people protected an ordinary child. Something about her mattered.

By the time everything was ready and Vikir had packed the documents away, Adrien had seen enough. He walked over to Amelia.

"There’s one thing I haven’t asked."

Amelia looked at him, and Adrien nodded toward the small girl standing several paces away.

"Who is she?"

...

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