Chapter 52: A Weapon This World Has Never Seen

Greyhaven appeared near the end of the following afternoon.

Raven decided the walls looked considerably better when you returned to them with a dead Elite on your record, a new Authority, and enough food in your stomach that Predatory Regeneration stopped trying to consume you from the inside.

He wasn’t fully recovered.

Not even close.

The superficial wounds had closed. The bite on his arm already looked several days old instead of several hours, and the smaller cuts had been reduced to reddish lines. His ribs still hurt, though less than before. His left shoulder retained a stiffness Raven suspected would take considerably longer to disappear.

Predatory Regeneration wasn’t immortality.

It was accelerated maintenance.

He liked that.

An ability that allowed him to completely ignore consequences would’ve eventually taught him bad habits.

Valeria rode beside him while Roland led the small group several yards ahead.

They had left Blackthorn with less luggage than they’d brought and considerably more expensive materials.

The Crimson Blood Core rested inside a protected alchemical case among Valeria’s belongings.

Raven carried several Blackmaw plates, Elite tendons, two preserved sensory structures, and enough intact remains from the Blood Furnace for FORGE to still consider them useful.

He also carried several sheets covered in drawings.

Valeria had tried to read them three times.

Raven had turned them away from her three times.

On the fourth attempt, she asked:

"How long are you going to keep doing that?"

"As long as you keep leaning over."

"I’m not leaning."

Raven looked at her posture.

Valeria was practically over his shoulder.

"Of course."

She sat properly again.

"I don’t understand why you’re hiding it. I already know you want to build a weapon."

"Knowing that I want to build one and knowing how it works are different things."

"I don’t know how it works."

"That’s the point."

Valeria looked at him for several seconds, then returned her attention to the road.

"You’re starting to treat those papers like military secrets."

Raven slid the sheet inside his jacket.

"Previous experience."

He didn’t add anything else.

She didn’t ask.

They had developed a kind of unspoken agreement during the return trip.

Valeria could provoke him all she wanted about monsters, money, Predation, his questionable eating habits, and Raven’s inability to accept that traveling together technically meant traveling together.

Earth was different.

Not because Raven had asked for privacy.

Because Valeria had learned that some conversations ended there.

Raven appreciated that more than he intended to tell her.

Greyhaven’s gates were open when they arrived.

Guards inspected caravans, merchants argued over taxes, and a separate line waited to register monster materials.

The city continued functioning as though nothing had happened in Blackthorn.

Raven liked that too.

They had killed an Elite.

Cassian Orbrecht was dead.

Several people had nearly become food.

A hereditary Bloodline had turned out to be edible.

Raven had unlocked an Authority capable of integrating biological abilities into objects.

And Greyhaven was still concerned about entry fees.

Normality was resilient.

One of the guards recognized Valeria immediately.

"Lady von Nacht."

Then he saw Raven.

Then the enormous black fragment strapped to the packhorse.

His expression changed.

"Is that...?"

Valeria smiled.

"Yes."

The man stepped closer.

"Blackmaw?"

"Tyrant," Roland corrected.

The guard looked at the plates.

"Elite."

"Also yes."

His eyes eventually settled on Raven.

"Who killed it?"

Valeria pointed at Raven.

"He delivered the final strike."

The guard looked at him again.

Raven raised one hand slightly.

"It was fairly rude about it."

Valeria turned.

"The Blackmaw?"

"Yes. Tried to kill us several times."

The guard took too long deciding whether that was a joke.

Raven kept walking.

He didn’t need to wait.

Behind him, he heard Valeria laugh.

---

The news reached the Mercenary House before they did.

Raven discovered that when he walked through the doors and found roughly thirty people staring directly at the entrance.

He stopped.

Valeria entered behind him.

"I think you’re popular."

"That would be inconvenient."

The gray-haired clerk was still behind the counter.

Of course.

This time, she didn’t immediately look up.

She finished writing one line, set down her quill, and then looked at Raven.

Her gaze dropped to his new Iron badge.

Then the injuries.

Then the enormous section of carapace Roland had ordered brought in as proof.

"Three days."

Raven approached.

"What?"

"I asked you to keep the Iron badge for more than a week before forcing me to fill out another report."

"I didn’t accept a contract."

The woman closed her eyes.

"That doesn’t improve anything."

Valeria reached the counter.

"Technically, the hunt was mine."

The clerk looked at her.

"Lady Nacht."

"And he wasn’t working for me."

"That doesn’t improve anything either."

Raven placed both hands on the wood.

"You seem difficult to please."

"My job would be easier if Level Eight mercenaries didn’t return carrying pieces of Elite creatures."

Raven frowned slightly.

"You already know my Level?"

The woman pointed toward the evaluation crystal.

"Hand."

Raven placed his palm on it.

The stone lit up.

«Human

Level 8

Rank: Common

Blessing: None»

A murmur spread through the room.

Raven removed his hand.

The clerk looked at the result.

Then at the carapace.

Then at the result again.

"Eight."

"Apparently."

"You entered Blackthorn at Level Five."

"Also apparently."

"And you killed an Elite."

Raven pointed toward Valeria.

"Not alone."

The woman turned toward her.

Valeria rested one elbow on the counter.

"I dealt most of the damage."

Raven nodded.

"Probably."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Probably?"

"I wasn’t counting."

"I was."

"That sounds exhausting."

The clerk raised one hand.

"Please. Before you start."

Both of them went quiet.

The woman called for the same bespectacled specialist who had examined the Gloom Stalker.

The man appeared, saw the black plate, and stopped walking.

"No."

Raven raised an eyebrow.

"Strange response."

The specialist approached.

"Is that from a Blackmaw Tyrant?"

"Yes."

"Adult?"

"Level Thirty-Four."

The man went completely still.

"That’s adult."

Valeria smiled.

"I’m glad science has solved the mystery."

The specialist ignored the comment and began examining the plate.

He used two different crystals, a copper tool, and finally a small needle that he tried to press against the surface.

The needle bent.

"Authentic Elite carapace."

He looked at Raven.

"Where’s the rest?"

"In the quarry."

"You left a Level Thirty-Four Blackmaw corpse in Blackthorn?"

"I couldn’t carry it."

The man made an expression of physical pain.

"Do you know how much it’s worth?"

"A lot."

"A fortune."

"It still weighed several tons."

"You could have hired transport."

Raven looked at Valeria.

She raised both hands.

"Don’t involve me."

Raven looked back at the specialist.

"There were other things trying to eat us."

The man sighed.

"Young people don’t respect materials."

Raven stared at him.

"I’m twenty-eight."

"For someone who leaves an Elite lying around, you’re young."

The gray-haired clerk tapped one finger against the counter.

"The report."

That ended the argument.

---

It took almost an hour.

Raven discovered that Asterian bureaucracy operated with a peculiar kind of efficiency.

They could take three days to register a minor death and less than thirty minutes to summon five different people when a dead noble was involved.

Cassian Orbrecht’s name caused more trouble than the Blackmaw.

One supervisor.

Then another.

A representative from the Guard.

Finally, a clerk associated with minor House affairs.

Raven repeated the story three times.

Cassian had used indebted workers as bait.

Raven had disrupted part of the attraction method because it was interfering with the hunt.

Cassian ordered his men to kill him.

The men attacked.

Raven neutralized them.

Cassian used his Bloodline.

Raven killed him.

Valeria confirmed every point.

That helped.

A lot.

Being a Level Eight foreigner who had killed a noble could generate questions.

Being a Level Eight foreigner backed by Valeria von Nacht generated more polite questions.

The Guard representative, a broad man named Magistrate Pell, read through the report.

"Three of the Orbrecht guards survived."

"Yes."

"They confirm that Lord Cassian gave the execution order."

"Good."

"That prevents immediate charges."

Raven raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Immediate?"

Pell looked at him over the document.

"House Orbrecht may file a private claim for wrongful death."

"He ordered me killed."

"That doesn’t mean his family is going to be happy."

"I never expected them to be."

"They may demand compensation."

Raven thought about it.

"No."

The man stared at him.

"They haven’t asked for anything yet."

"I’m saving time."

Valeria covered her mouth.

Pell looked at her.

She recovered a serious expression.

"Continue, Magistrate."

The man returned to the report.

"Lady Nacht also confirms that Cassian violated a registered hunting claim and used debt contracts in a potentially unlawful manner. That complicates his House’s position."

"What a tragedy," Raven said.

Pell decided to ignore him.

"Do not leave Greyhaven without registering your route for the next several weeks."

That got Raven’s attention.

"I’m leaving Greyhaven."

The magistrate set down the paper.