"You," I said, my voice rough. "You set this up."

  Morris—or whoever he really was—smiled. "The farm attacks, the tracks, the mosnters. All of it."

  My tendrils coiled behind me, ready to strike. "Why?"

  "To see what you could do. To confirm what you are." He tilted his head, studying me like I was some kind of specimen. "The reports from Oakenford were... interesting. An unknown tamer with unusual abilities. Now a monster that transforms into armor. Very unusual."

  Nox growled, positioning himself between us.

  "So you killed those people's livestock? Just to lure me out here?"

  Morris only smiled and didn’t answer.

  "Your regeneration is faster than expected. And that armor...Fascinating"

  His eyes gleamed with interest as he ignored my question.

  My mind raced. The quest had come from the guild. Was the guild involved in this? Had they set me up? But that didn't make sense. Nicholaus had been straightforward with me. Was it Renna?

  "Are you from Drakmoor?" I asked, trying to piece together who was behind this.

  Morris' expression twisted with disgust. He laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. "Drakmoor? Don't lump me in with those bastards." His voice dripped with contempt. "Those brutes have no subtlety, no finesse. Just violence and conquest."

  So not Drakmoor. That was... somehow bad. It meant there was another player in this game. Someone I didn't know about that was interested in me.

  I took a step forward. "Who are you working for then?"

  "That's not information you need." He pocketed the dagger, my blood still on the blade. "I have what I came for."

  "You're not leaving."

  "You think you can stop me?” He laughed.

  “Oh. You’ll know.”

  My tendrils lashed out.

  He was already moving and fast. He easily dodged the first strike, then the second. His hands moved in a complex pattern, and suddenly the air between us shimmered.

  A barrier. Magical.

  My tendrils slammed against it and stopped dead.

  "Impressive, but predictable." He took a step back, still watching me with that clinical interest. "You rely too heavily on brute force. No finesse. No strategy."

  Then the air started to shimmer. "This has been educational, Miss Demecillo. But our business is concluded."

  I launched myself forward, trying to reach him before whatever he was doing completed. My claws scraped against the barrier, my tendrils hammering uselessly against the magical wall. Nothing worked. The barrier held firm.

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  Then he vanished. Not teleported—at least I don't think it was teleportation. He just... ceased to be there. Like someone had erased him from reality.

  The barrier dissolved.

  I stood there, breathing hard, staring at the empty space where he'd been.

  Nox whined, pressing against my leg.

  Fei dropped down from his perch, landing beside us.

  "Damn it!" I slammed my fist into a tree. The bark cracked under the impact.

  I'd been played. Completely and thoroughly played.

  The quest itself had come from the guild. From Renna. Which meant either the guild was involved, or someone had manipulated the system.

  And they'd specifically wanted me.

  Was the guild compromised? Or had someone just been clever enough to game the system? I didn't know. But I needed to find out.

  Morris, whatever his real name was, wasn't from Drakmoor. His disgust at the suggestion had been genuine. Which meant there was another faction at play here.

  Another group with resources with enough reach to set up an elaborate trap using the Adventurers Guild as cover.

  And I had a terrible feeling this was only the beginning.

  =====

  Unknown Location

  Morris knelt on cold stone floor, his head bowed. The chamber was dark except for flickering candles arranged in precise patterns along the walls.

  Before him stood a woman in pristine white priestly robes. Her face was partially hidden beneath a hood, but her presence filled the room like a weight pressing down on everything.

  "Report," she said. Her voice was soft but carried absolute authority.

  Morris didn't lift his head. "The target has been observed and tested. She possesses a symbiotic creature that transforms into organic armor. Black in color, with multiple tendrils capable of offensive and defensive applications."

  He paused. "Her regeneration is remarkable. A blade through the chest healed completely in under thirty seconds."

  "Impressive." The woman's tone didn't change. "And her combat capabilities?"

  "Significant. She dispatched three stalkers with minimal difficulty. Her fighting style is direct, aggressive. She relies on overwhelming force rather than technique. But she's inexperienced. Predictable."

  "Mm." The woman was silent for a moment, considering. "Is she a threat?"

  Morris hesitated. The question hung in the air between them.

  "Morris," the woman said, her voice dropping lower. "Is she a threat?"

  He was silent for another moment, then shook his head. "No. She is not."

  The woman fell silent, her robed figure perfectly still. When she spoke again, her voice was harder and colder.

  "We are in a crucial phase. Unknown variables will not be tolerated." She took a step closer to him. "You understand what is at stake. What we have worked toward for years. The preparations are nearly complete."

  "I understand, Your Holiness."

  "Then you understand why this girl concerns me. A power we cannot account for. An ability we do not understand." Another step. "The descent of our lord cannot be jeopardized by unforeseen complications."

  Morris kept his head bowed.

  "She will not interfere with the plan."

  "See that she doesn't."

  Behind the woman, set into the far wall of the chamber, a massive symbol glowed with soft golden light. A circle with radiating lines, like a sun. Within it, intricate patterns and religious iconography that spoke of divinity, of worship, of faith.

  The symbol of the Sanctum of Light.

  "For the descent of our lord," the woman said, her voice rising slightly. It wasn't a prayer. It was a declaration.

  Morris pressed his forehead to the cold stone. "For the descent of our lord."

  "Continue your observations. Report any changes in her behavior or capabilities." The woman turned away from him, moving toward the glowing symbol. "And Morris? If she becomes a problem..."

  She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.

  "I understand, Your Holiness."

  "Good. You are dismissed."

  Morris stood, bowed deeply, and backed toward the chamber door. He didn't turn his back on her until he'd crossed the threshold into the corridor beyond.

  The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.

  Inside the chamber, the woman stood before the glowing symbol, her hands clasped in front of her. The candlelight flickered across her robes, making the gold thread shimmer.

  "An otherworlder," she murmured to herself. "Just as the prophecy foretold."

  She raised her eyes to the symbol on the wall.

  "Soon, my lord. Soon you will walk among us once more."