"Stand," I said, and Narg rose to his feet without hesitation.
I studied him for a mont, then added dryly, "How are you feeling? No demons trying to hijack your soul or consu the earth we're both standing on?"
Narg paused, clearly caught off guard by the question. For a second, he just stared at , as if actually checking himself internally to be sure.
Then he shook his head.
"No," he said calmly. "I believe I'm in control of it."
He extended one hand forward and slowly clenched it into a fist. In response, thin inky lines seeped out from his skin, crawling along his knuckles and wrist before sinking back in, obedient and restrained.
I let out a low breath.
"Amazing," I muttered, and I ant it.
But then another thought crept in, unwelco and persistent.
Wait.
I had inherited the sa power. I had carried Deathroot, wielded it, even survived its influence long enough to pass it on.
So why hadn't I changed?
Why hadn't my skin turned ashen, my veins darkened, my aura twisted into sothing ghostlike? Why hadn't my body reacted at all beyond learning how to use it?
The realization settled slowly, and with it ca a quiet unease.
Narg's body had adapted.
Jael's body had been consud.
And mine?
Mine hadn't reacted at all.
Which ant one of two things.
Was I exempt from the transformation process or sothing? Was this a hidden perk of having the system itself?
I didn't know.
I extended my hand and did exactly what Narg had done monts earlier.
Black ink seeped out from my palm, slow at first, then more freely, spilling like liquid shadow that obeyed my will without resistance. I increased the output deliberately, letting more of it pour out, testing the weight and density of the power as it manifested.
But I didn't let it lash out.
Instead, I guided it, forcing the writhing strands to coil inward and gather at a single point above my palm, compressing it further and further as the pressure steadily rose. The ink thickened, darkened, pulsing faintly like sothing alive, yet completely restrained.
Narg took a cautious step back.
I didn't need to look to know the expression on his face. I could feel it. The awe. The expectation. The sense that I was about to unleash sothing catastrophic or spectacular.
But that wasn't how it felt to .
Even as more power leaked out, even as the concentration grew dense enough to warp the air around it, there was no strain, no resistance, no whisper of losing control.
The power didn't push back. It didn't hunger. It didn't try to drag my thoughts sowhere darker.
It simply… waited.
Obedient. Silent. Mine.
And that left both confused and deeply curious.
Even the previous holder hadn't been able to dominate it.
Jael had been swallowed whole by this very power, his will crushed beneath its weight until there was nothing left of him but a rampaging shell.
So why was it different with ?
Was it because this was an inherited skill rather than sothing awakened naturally? That explanation almost made sense… until I rembered that Narg had inherited it as well, and even he had nearly been consud before managing to wrestle it into submission.
I could argue that Narg isn't a Chosen, but still.
The discrepancy bothered more the longer I thought about it.
I didn't dislike the outco—far from it.
Having absolute control over sothing this dangerous was more than convenient; it was borderline absurd.
If I had been forced to undergo physical alterations every single ti I received a new skill line, I would have turned into so grotesque green hybrid monstrosity by now, so patchwork creature stitched together from incompatible evolutions.
Hell, I'd probably look like Kevin from that old Ben 10 cartoon by this point.
The thought almost made snort.
Whatever the reason was, I had a strong feeling the answers would co eventually.
So, for now, it was better to stop circling the question and simply make use of what I had.
Control without cost was still control.
And I wasn't about to complain about a perk like that.
I dismissed the black ink, and it fizzled out almost imdiately, dispersing as if it had never existed in the first place.
I was just about to tell Narg that it was ti to head back, that we had lingered long enough away from the clan, when a sudden wave of unease washed over so violently that I froze mid-breath.
My heart began to race without warning.
I pressed a hand against my chest, feeling the rapid, uneven thudding beneath my palm, each beat carrying a sharp edge of urgency that didn't belong to .
"This anxious feeling…"
I muttered the words under my breath as realization settled in.
This wasn't mine.
Which ant it could only belong to one person.
Ariel.
The fox I was linked to.
My jaw tightened as a familiar irritation mixed with concern.
Did she get herself into trouble again?
Or…
All of a sudden, a thought snapped into my head.
"Don't tell …"
The unease in my chest sharpened.
Sothing was happening back at the clan.
And right on the heels of that realization, the alpha ape's final words echoed in my mind, clearer now than they had been when it died.
'More.'
There were more of them. And were most likely heading towards the clan.
"Goddammit."
I didn't hesitate. There was no ti to think it through or weigh possibilities. Instinct took over, sharp and decisive. I grabbed hold of Narg, focused my awareness on the seal I had placed on one of my goblins, and warped.
The world folded in on itself, and when it snapped back into place with Narg, I found myself beside Thok mid-stride.
He nearly stumbled when I appeared, barely managing to steady himself as he skidded to a stop.
"Chief," he said quickly, breath still uneven from running. "I was just coming to find you."
"What's the problem?" I asked, already knowing it wouldn't be small.
"Enemies," Thok replied without hesitation. "Many of them. They appeared in front of clan."
My jaw clenched.
"What do they look like?"
He didn't need to think about it. "They look like what Granny Flogga calls monkeys."
That confird it.
It was...
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