My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror - Chapter 132+ (Patreon)

Nolan’s eyebrows continually rose as Damien spoke. By the time he finished, the noble’s brows threatened to vanish beneath his hair.

“You went through core evolution? In Year One?”

“It wasn’t entirely voluntary,” Damien said. “Delph pretty much said it was now or never.”

“Well, it worked,” Mark said, tilting his head and examining Damien and Sylph. “Now the two of you are even more of a problem. When are you going to slow down to give the rest of us time to catch up?”

“If you deserve to be at the top, then you’ll catch up,” Reena said, pushing the curtain in front of her room out of the way and walking outside. She stopped a few feet away from them and crossed her arms. “You don’t get strong by doing nothing.”

“You’re one to talk,” Nolan said, setting his papers to the side and standing up with a grunt. “When’s the last time you practiced?”

Reena just scoffed and turned away from him. “I was just heading out to practice. Not like you’ve got any plans of joining me. You’re barely passing your rune class, so spending time on combat would be foolish.”

Nolan’s lips pressed together, proving that his sibling’s words had struck home. He grabbed the sheaf of papers off the ground and gave everyone a firm nod before striding into his room and pulling the curtain shut behind him.

Reena turned up her nose and stormed down the mountain path, disappearing from sight. The others watched her leave, then turned to each other.

“What’s their problem?” Sylph asked. “Did something happen while the monsters were attacking?”

“No clue,” Mark replied. “I don’t really care about them all that much. They’re not a threat to my position at their current level of strength.”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t become one,” Damien said with a frown. “And they’re your friends, aren’t they?”

“Friends?” Mark asked. “Why? They just live next to us. You don’t even like them yourself.”

“They’re a bit rough around the edges,” Damien admitted. “They aren’t that bad, though. You can’t blame them for their upbringing, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen them at each other’s throats like this.”

“Not my problem,” Mark said, shrugging. “I don’t care about them. Their power is inconsequential, and I don’t care about the political influence of their family.”

“Why not?” Sylph asked. “The Grays have significant influence throughout the kingdom. Even if you don’t like them, there isn’t a real reason to not at least be friendly with them, is there?”

“I don’t care about the kingdom,” Mark said, looking out over the horizon. “I’m not staying here. After I graduate, I’m going to go past the frontlines.”

“Don’t you mean to the frontlines?” Sylph asked. “Because if you do, you’re not getting away from politics. It’s everywhere, and I’m sure the frontlines are no different.”

“I meant what I said. There’s more than what you imagine beyond the frontlines. Much more.”

“Like monsters?” Damien asked.

“Among other things,” Mark said, pushing himself to his feet. “I don’t have a place in the kingdom. I can’t be my true self here. The mages showed me how to act civilized, but it grates on my nerves. The sooner I can leave, the better. I just need to learn how to control my abilities first.”

He walked back into his room, disappearing into his bathroom and pulling the curtain shut behind him.

“Friendly crowd today,” Sylph said.

“You don’t say,” Damien said. “What’s gotten into everyone? You’d think we’d be the grumpy ones after having to deal with the core evolution and Delph’s antics. Oh well – I guess everyone has off days.”

“But they aren’t usually all at the same time,” Sylph said. “Not our problem, though. You want to get breakfast?”

“I was about to suggest the same thing,” Damien said with a grin. “Mess hall?”

Sylph nodded. They started to walk towards the path down the mountain. Damien froze as Henry sent him a sudden mental warning and vanished, slipping into the protection of his inner psyche. Sylph’s stance shifted as she noticed the change in Damien’s demeanor.

A moment later, Whisp came hurtling out of the clouds. The acting Dean slowed as she approached them, touching down gently on the ground before them. She brushed the hair out of her face and cocked an eyebrow.

“Why do the two of you look like you’re about to attack me?”

Damien forced himself to relax. “Sorry. You surprised us.”

“I’d hope so,” Whisp said. “It would be embarrassing to not be able to sneak up on two Year Ones.”

“Can we help you with something?” Sylph asked, her tone clipped. Damien could have sworn she disliked the woman more than he did.

“I’d like to speak with you both,” Whisp said, tapping her foot on the ground impatiently. “Over breakfast, perhaps?”

“What does the acting Dean need with mere Year Ones?” Damien asked.

“Don’t play that shit with me, Vale,” Whisp said, pressing her lips together and raising an eyebrow. “Neither of you are ‘mere Year Ones’. Just by power, you’re at least a Year Two. The only thing your missing is the ability to bring your companions out. Frankly, I’m not here to play verbal pattycake with children. Are you going to talk, or am I going to have to do this the hard way?”

“I’m listening,” Damien said.

Whisp grimaced. “Not like this. It feels wrong. It’s early, but I doubt the two of you have eaten yet. How about we do this over breakfast? I’ll pay.”

Damien looked over at Sylph, who gave him a small one-shouldered shrug.

“Fine,” Damien said. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice anyways.

Whisp gave them a tight grin. “Good. I know a good place that we won’t have to wait too long for, and it’ll be a little more private than the mess hall.”

She flicked her fingers and purple energy snaked outwards, wrapping up and around Damien and Sylph’s backs. The two of them lifted into the air. Whisp shot up and they flew after her, hurtling through the sky like a trio of meteors.

Wind buffeted against Damien’s face with such intensity that he had to squeeze his eyes shut to avoid hurting them. It was cold and the wind stung against his face. Luckily, the trip only took a few moments.

As they slowed back down, Damien opened his eyes. They landed in a section of campus near the walls that he hadn’t been in before. There were a dozen homely looking buildings scattered throughout the area and a small park in the center, complete with benches and a garden.

The energy dissipated, dropping them on their feet. Whisp set off towards the nearest building, pulling open the rosewood door and glancing back at them. Damien and Sylph followed after her as she stepped inside.

Considering they were getting breakfast, Damien suspected that it was a restaurant of some kind, but nothing like what he was used to. There were no tables – just a thin corridor leading up to a booth. A sharply dressed man with slick hair and stood behind it, his face an unreadable mask.

He inclined his head as the three of them approached. “Dean Whisp. Welcome back to the establishment.”

“A table for three please, Gerald. A private one,” Whisp said.

“Of course. Please follow me,” Gerald replied, stepping to the side and walking down the hall. They followed after him, passing multiple doors and making a few turns before stopping near a bend.

Gerald pushed the door open and gestured for them to enter. Behind it was a small room with a table in the center. Four beautifully carved chairs sat around it, and the table was covered with a plain yet high quality tablecloth. Gentle sunlight spilled in from a round window. Two velvet curtains hung beside it.

Damien and Sylph sat down on one side of the table, and Whisp sat on the other. Gerald swept past them, placing three sets of utensils and napkins on the table. He then deposited a leather bound menu in each of their hands. Gerald grabbed the extra chair and gave them a polite nod before vanishing out the door and closing it gently behind him.

“This place seems a bit fancy,” Damien observed.

“It’s just a restaurant,” Whisp replied, grabbing the menu and flipping through it. “Get whatever you want.”

Damien picked up his own menu and looked through it. There were only a few dishes offered, and he couldn’t pronounce any of them. He snuck a glance at Sylph, but she didn’t seem particularly bothered.

A few minutes later, the door opened again and Gerald stepped inside. “Is there anything I can get you started with?”

“I’ll take a wine,” Whisp said. “Something that tastes good – not the crap you keep for the old prunes that want to show off their talents.”

“Of course,” Gerald said, not perturbed by her behavior in the slightest. “And the two of you?”

“Water, please,” Damien requested.

“Milk,” Sylph said. “If you’ve got it.”

“It will be right out,” Gerald promised. “Would anyone like today’s appetizer?”

“What is it?” Whisp asked.

“We’ve got a finely smoked daggerfish, seasoned with a balsamic drizzle and orange zest,” Gerald said. “The fish was caught this morning and teleported in.”

“That sounds good,” Sylph said. “I’ll take it.”

“As will I,” Whisp said.

Gerald nodded. “I shall return momentarily. Thank you for your patience.”

He swept out of the room once more, closing the door soundlessly behind him. There were a few moments of awkward silence. Damien finally broke it by clearing his throat.

“What was it you wanted to speak to us about, Dean Whisp?”

“A deal,” Whisp replied.

“What sort of deal do you need to make with students?” Sylph asked.

Whisp opened her mouth, but the door swung open again. Gerald stepped through, setting two plates down before them. Damien had to admit that they looked delicious. The fish had turned a light brown from the smoke and drizzle, but it was evident that it was still completely packed full of flavor. Specks of orange were peppered throughout it, giving the whole meal a vibrant look. It was hard to believe that it was just an appetizer.

“Would you like more time to decide your main course?” Gerald asked.

“Just get me whatever the chef wants to make,” Whisp said, folding up the menu and handing it back to him.

“I’ll have the white chocolate cream and strawberry mille-feuille,” Sylph said, closing her own menu.

Damien glanced down at his own menu, then pointed at a dish at random. “I’ll have this one.”

Gerald collected their menus and gave them a nod before leaving once again. Damien and Sylph turned to Whisp, who grabbed her fork and speared a slice of fish. She popped it into her mouth and chewed for a few moments.

“There’s a competition coming up,” Whisp said. “And I need Blackmist to win.”

“A competition?” Damien asked as Sylph claimed a considerably smaller piece of her own appetizer and carefully took a small bite out of it.

“Yes,” Whisp said. “A very important one.”

“Why ask us?” Damien asked. “We’re Year Ones. Even if the competition allowed us to enter, how would we win? Surely there are much stronger people enrolled.”

“You don’t need to win the whole thing,” Whisp said. “It’s split in two. One half is the lowerclassmen, and the other half is the upperclassmen. So you don’t need to beat everyone – just Year One and Twos.”

“Why should we enter it?” Sylph asked. “And why both of us?”

“Because of the prize,” Whisp said. “And because having two ways to win is better than having one. Even if Mark technically scored higher on the ranking battles than Damien, he’s… well, not a good fit for this. He can’t go all out against other students.”

“What’s the prize?” Damien asked.

Whisp tossed another slice of fish into her mouth. “Depends. For the winning students, it’s a good amount of cultivation resources and a fat bag of gold. For the school, it’s a spot or two of access to a sealed labyrinth.”

“Full of treasure?” Sylph guessed.

“Among other things,” Whisp said. “And we want access to it. The labyrinth is a training ground of sorts for students, and it’s full of spells and artifacts. Many of them could be key in raising Blackmist’s rank among the other colleges.”

“That’s nice,” Sylph said, spearing a slice of fish and offering the fork to Damien. “Is this something open to all students to enter?”

Damien took the offered fork and ate the fish off it. His eyes widened slightly at the burst of flavor that ran through his mouth. The light, citrusy tang mixed incredibly well with the powerful smoked fish and faint vinegar.

“The top students from any school can enter it,” Whisp said, crossing her arms. “Why?”

“Then we can enter the tournament of our own will. You need something else,” Sylph said.

Whisp’s eyes narrowed. “I do. A specific artifact within the labyrinth that the Dean and I found back when we entered the tournament. Nobody has retrieved it yet, and we want it.”

“Why should we help, then? If anyone can enter the tournament, we can just go of our own volition and take whatever we want for ourselves.”

“Two reasons,” Whisp replied. “First, you can keep everything other than the artifact I want. The location of this artifact is well hidden, and you almost certainly won’t find it without my help. There are other treasures in the area as well, and many of them would be invaluable to you.”

“And the second reason?” Sylph asked.

Whisp smirked. “Did you know that a few professors are putting pressure on me to find the locations of a student named Jayce? He’s currently believed to be missing, but everyone is almost certain he never left campus. Tell me, if I looked closely into this particular student, what do you think I would find?”

“How would we know?” Sylph asked, not missing a beat.

“Very good,” Whisp said. “That might even fool other people, but I’m well aware Damien had something to do with the boy’s disappearance. Before you protest, listen to my terms. You get me this artifact and I drop the case completely. Jayce disappears into the annals of some forgotten book and nobody mentions him again. I won’t even bother the two of you unless there’s something directly school related. My word.”

The door swung open again and Gerald stepped inside carrying three dishes. He set them down on the table before them. Damien’s was a strange blob of tan looking jelly with a brown crust on the top. Sylph had what appeared to be a cake covered in cream and strawberries, and Whisp had a massive steak. The waiter left without another word.

“Think about it,” Whisp said, grabbing a knife and cutting a large piece off. “You can give me your decision after you eat.”