Mr. Gharrick stepped into the cave, accompanied only by the faint light from the green pendant in his hand. The glow reflected off the damp, moss-covered cave walls, creating faint, dancing shadows around him.
The air inside was humid and carried the scent of bat guano, creating a stifling atmosphere. A few steps in, the cave floor began to slope steeply downward, resembling a large pit that forced one to tread carefully with each step.
He paused for a moment, observing the traces of spilled Etherium liquid at the cave entrance, glowing faintly like green fire. "How careless," he murmured inwardly, his gaze sweeping across the cave walls and floor.
If he were that sorceress, traps would certainly fill this path, perhaps even supplemented with illusions or tracking spells. But here? Only one easily spotted trap.
Mr. Gharrick surveyed his surroundings. The carcasses of several monsters lay scattered in the corners of the cave—their forms unusual, resembling hybrids of wolves and snakes, with sharp claws and rough, grayish skin. Berbalan, he thought, identifying creatures typical of unstable Etherium regions.
It seemed the sorceress had deliberately cleared these threats earlier, but why hadn't she hidden her tracks? Was she in a hurry, or simply foolish?
As his gaze moved further ahead, he finally saw them. Neir, standing unsteadily with her hands and feet bound, and the woman, the sorceress emanating an aura of threat. Gharrick's eyes narrowed, anxiety creeping into his mind as he saw Neir's nearly collapsed state.
"Stop right there!" The woman's voice echoed, shattering the silence. Her command was sharp, full of forced authority.
Mr. Gharrick slowly raised his hand, showing the glowing green pendant in his grasp. He observed the woman with an unreadable gaze. While his steps halted, his mind raced like a horse chased by arrows. Not out of fear, but because he was mapping out his next moves.
The woman watched with narrowed eyes. "I know why you're here, but don't expect to take this girl without paying a heavy price."
Gharrick remained calm, even though worry for Neir still peeked in his mind. His eyes swept the cave walls, searching for possible traps or other hidden plans. She's careless. Even more careless than a new merchant trying to cheat his first customer. What is she really thinking?
"I'm not here to fight," Gharrick finally said, his voice calm like river water in the morning. His gaze was sharp like an unsheathed sword. "I just want to ensure the child returns safely. Let's talk."
The woman let out a small laugh, though there was no warmth in her voice. "You think I'll just give up? This girl is the key. With her blood, I can restore what I've lost. And that pendant..." She pointed at Gharrick's hand, "...is the perfect tool to ensure this ritual succeeds."
Gharrick glanced at the green pendant in his hand, then looked back at the woman. A faint smile graced his face. She doesn't even know this pendant is more than just a catalyst. "You're overestimating it," he said, his voice like a teacher trying to instruct a stubborn student. "This pendant is just an ordinary catalyst. It's not as powerful as you think."
Of course, that was a lie. The pendant contained crystallized Etherium—an extremely rare and nearly priceless material. But Gharrick wasn't foolish; he knew how to play mind games. Let her take this bait first.
The woman frowned, hesitating for a moment. "What do you mean?"
Gharrick took a small step forward, slowly, observing every slight movement of the woman. "I know about the magical accident that caused you to lose sight and hearing on your left side."
His eyes stared directly at the woman, like a judge reading the defendant's sins. "Etherium won't bring you peace. Whatever you gain from this ritual, you'll only create more suffering."
The woman looked confused, then snorted loudly. "You know nothing."
"Oh, but I do." Gharrick folded his hands, displaying a calmness like an old tree standing in a storm. "I am the keeper of the Aurië Library, where all knowledge about Etherium is gathered. I know the price you must pay is higher than you think."
The woman's gaze sharpened, but there was doubt in her eyes. Gharrick knew she was beginning to waver, and that gave him room to maneuver further.
The woman finally spoke in a cold tone, "Very well. I will accept this exchange. But if you try anything foolish, you will regret it."
Mr. Gharrick observed the woman carefully. His mind was in turmoil, like a raging river hitting rocks incessantly. "What is this woman really thinking? Is she truly as careless as she appears, or is this just a bluff? Making Neir a sacrifice for teleportation? Or… perhaps she has already performed a ritual here before, before actually bringing Neir? That would explain why there is so much spilled Etherium liquid on the cave walls."
He examined the cave more deeply. The smell of bat guano mixed with the scent of Etherium created a strange blend, like a beautiful flower growing in muddy soil. The atmosphere made his head feel heavy.
"This pendant… is it truly pure Etherium from thousands of years ago? Or just a modified imitation, like a beautiful painting that has lost its color over time? If it were truly pure, why does this woman seem like someone betting with cracked dice?"
He sighed softly. "Or perhaps I was right when I lied earlier. That this is indeed just an ordinary catalyst, nothing more. Like an ember that has lost its heat." The thought kept swirling like a small tornado, sucking in all the logic he possessed. Yet, one thing was certain: he had to play his role perfectly to get Neir out of here alive.
Before entering the cave earlier, he had contemplated the pendant more deeply.
Etherium… a substance more than just energy. "In its pure form, it is a fragment of this world's balance," he thought. But the Etherium in this pendant made him doubt.
"Pure Etherium is indeed extremely rare, usually stored in the world's core or trapped in remote places, buried by history like forgotten treasure. But if it were truly pure, it's impossible for this pendant to be in that woman's hands."
He had read in old archives that other materials were needed to create phenomena like what he had seen—teleportation of senses, for example. Besides Etherium, such rituals usually required:
Celestium Crystal, which focuses energy like a magnifying glass capturing sunlight.
Black Obsidian Powder,like fine thread stitching one dimension to another.
The blood of a living creature,a symbol of life and an irreplaceable marker for Etherium.
A magic circle made of Liquid Mithrilium,functioning like a large bucket to contain the wild energy of Etherium.
"Without those materials, a ritual like this is just nonsense. Like trying to make bread without flour." He stared at the glowing Etherium liquid on the cave floor.
"But this woman… Although she has signs of Celestium Crystal and a Mithrilium circle, something is off. A phenomenon like this—teleportation of senses—should require more than just Etherium. There should be Black Obsidian Powder to stitch dimensions, and the blood of a living creature as an irreplaceable marker for Etherium. Yet, I see no traces of either here. If this ritual was truly performed, there is a missing element… or worse, there was an error in its execution. If so, is the effect truly stable? Or are there unforeseen consequences yet to be seen?"
He rubbed his temple, his head beginning to feel heavy as if bearing the weight of a large stone. "Why does every time I get into a situation like this, it feels like trying to write poetry with a broken pen? All these clues are messy, like a puzzle missing its pieces."
He looked at the woman once more. "You're like a bird with a broken wing, trying to fly with both legs tied. Do you truly not know, or is this just a trap-filled plan? Whatever it is, I must play smarter."
Now, there was only one hope: his lie had to be sharp enough to cut through the woman's conviction like a sword splitting a steel chain.
Gharrick smiled faintly. He stepped slowly, observing every second of the woman's reaction. Now is the time to see if she truly believes this lie, he thought. Yet, in this tense-filled cave, even the smallest step could bring unforeseen changes.
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