Chapter 299: Arcana city

The subterranean chamber held onto its silence long after Merlin’s footsteps had faded up the stone stairwell.

​Emily stood alone , her chest rising and falling with a steady, rhythm as the last of the lingering current dissipated around her.

She reached down, picked up her sweaty cloth, and thoughtfully draped the black silk blindfold over her shoulder.

The scent of ozone and scorch marks washeavy in the damp air—a familiar smell, now, after several weeks buried in the subterranean depths beneath Merlin’s estate.

She climbed the narrow, winding spiral stairwell that led out of the training cellar, feeling her muscles ache with a deep, satisfying heat.

Emily stepped out into the sunlit conservatory on the ground floor. The abupt transition from the subterranean gloom to the flooded morning light made her squint.

​Sitting at a long, unpolished oak table by the window was Merlin, looking entirely unbothered by the fact that he had spent the last two hours throwing thin arcs of lightning at his apprentice.

"Geezer..."

"I heard that—"

Emily pursed her lips, shaking her head slightly.

The man was casually buttering a slice of thick crusty bread while skimming an official sealed letter.

Emily grinned slightly.

As it turned out, even old monsters needed to eat.

A steaming carafe sat in the middle of the table, emitting the sweet, earthy aroma of evidently well made tea.

Emily slid into the bench across from him. She reached for the carafe, pouring herself a steaming mug.

Her hands were slightly unsteady, the nerves in her fingers still humming from the hypersensory state she had forced herself into down below just moments back.

She winced slightly feeling a lance of pain flare through her side.

"If I had been using a physical blade instead of a compressed dull wind blade, your bruised side would be the least of your worries. "

​"I hit your barrier," Emily pointed out, taking a cautious sip.

"That counts as progress in my book."

​"It counts as survival," Merlin corrected dryly.

"Eat your breakfast. We have visitors coming at noon."

​Emily paused, her mug halfway to her lips. "Visitors? You don’t get visitors. Don’t you usually threaten anyone who comes within half a mile of the estate?"

Normally, yes," Merlin agreed, taking a precise bite of his toast.

"However, when the Grand Directorate of the Veilrend Games decides to deliver official competitor credentials in person, protocol dictates I refrain from turning them into glass."

​He gestured vaguely toward the stack of mail on the corner of the table.

​Emily reached over and picked up the top document.

It was made of heavy, cream-colored vellum, bound with an ornate wax seal bearing the crossed-blades-and-rising-sun emblem of the Veilrend Committee.

It seemed the Committee was quite old fashioned.

She broke the seal and unfolded it.

​[Official Notice of Entry — Primary Bracket.

[Competitor: Emily Whizen].

[Sponsoring Master: Lord Merlin Hale Crest.]

[Affiliation: Pyreptar Academy]

(Sovereignty at Large).

​"Pyreptar listed me as Sovereignty at Large?" Emily asked, frowning slightly.

Headmaster Whizen — your esteemed uncle —realized that having you compete under the standard academy roster would subject you to the preliminary qualifiers."

"As my personal apprentice, its only fair you skip the regional eliminations entirely. You go straight to the main bracket."

​Emily set the paper down, feeling a sudden, heavy knot form in the pit of her stomach. "That’s going to make people furious. The academy track students have been fighting through regional matches for two months."

"Let them be furious," Merlin said calmly.

"Jealousy is an excellent motivator for inferior talents. It makes them predictable in the ring."

​He set his mug down, his silver eyes locking onto hers with sudden, piercing intensity.

" In a few days’ time, Pyreptar will no longer be an isolated school for privileged assassin nobility—it will be the center of the paranormal world’s attention."

"If you concern yourself with whether your peers think you earned your seat, you will be dead before the first round concludes."

Emily looked down at her hands at the calluses and scrapes from the weeks spent wielding her old and newfound abilities.

"I know..." she mattered.

His silver eyes locked onto hers with sudden, piercing intensity.

"I’ve scheduled an appointed for you. You are going to see Master Vane."

"Vane?" Emily blinked.

Merlin nodded.

"Yes, she’s a gear designer, for Talented. A tailor who crafts actual combat armor, not overpriced athletic wear,"he murmured, his eyes narrowing.

"You cannot enter the main bracket wearing standard Pyreptar student gear."

A soft chime echoed through the conservatory, and a soft voice spoke from the hallway.

"We’re ready to go, if you are, Miss Whizen," he said with a gentle smile.

Emily turned to see Sebastian standing in the archway. Merlin’s butler was impeccably turned out in a dark grey tailored suit, complete with a subtle silver crest pin on his lapel.

His dark hair was combed back with surgical precision. His entire demeanor radiated an air of quiet competence and confidence.

In his right hand, he held a thin tablet and over his arm, a light coat for Emily.

​"Good morning, Sebastian," Emily said, rising from the table.

​"Good morning, Miss Whizen," Sebastian replied with a subtle, polite bow.

"I have already loaded your standard training inventory. Whenever you are ready."

Don’t let her choose bright accents, Sebastian," Merlin called out casually, picking up his tea.

"She has terrible taste."

​"I shall ensure her choices remain functional and tasteful, sir," Sebastian replied without missing a beat, handing Emily her coat as she stepped toward the hall.

"We’ll be using direct transit," Sebastian said smoothly.

​He stepped forward, placing one gloved hand lightly on Emily’s shoulder.

A faint, hair-raising thrumming sound echoed in the air, becoming a pressurized hum.

Within moments, a subtle ripple distorted the air around them, bending the sunlight streaming through the glass windows into thin bands.

"Crap—!"

​Then — the world briefly folded in on itself.

​There was a sudden, heavy spike of atmospheric pressure against Emily’s eardrums, accompanied by a fleeting sensation of weightlessness that made her stomach drop.

Her vision blurred into a gray, featureless smear before the surrounding space snapped violently back into focus.

​The lovely smell of butter and roasted tea vanished, replaced by the cool, ozone scented air of a subterranean garage.

Emily swallowed hard, steadying her footing as she slowly gained her bearings.

​"I hate teleportation," she muttered, adjusting her collar.

​"Most people do, Miss Whizen," Sebastian replied, his hand slipping smoothly off her shoulder as he adjusted his cuffs.

​"You don’t."

​"I have had considerably more practice."

​Emily shook her head, looking around the subterranean chamber.

It was a private, reinforced transit hub tucked beneath the ground.

Hexagonal tiles lined the walls. Parked in the central bay directly ahead of them was a low-slung, matte-black passenger vehicle.

Its sleek carbon chassis rested on quiet mag-lev dampeners, and a subtle LED strip flickered to life along the door handles as Sebastian pulled out a sleek electronic keycard.

​"Master Merlin’s local vehicle has been prepped and routed for our itinerary," Sebastian said, holding open the passenger door for Emily.

​She slid into the front seat.

Digital HUD overlays lit up across the seamless glass dashboard, plotting an optimal route.

Sebastian took his place behind the wheel, placed his palm on the center power console, and the autonomous electric drive engaged with a soft, nearly imperceptible hum.

The vehicle glided up the curving concrete ramp, exiting the underground garage and merging seamlessly into the flowing traffic.

This was Arcana city.

​As they emerged into the daylight, the sheer scale of the city unfolded around them.

Elevated magnetic rail lines snaked between glass skyscrapers, their translucent tracks glowing faintly with controlled currents of electricity.

Holographic banners hovered fifty feet in the air.

Autonomous delivery drones buzzed in orderly streams between building terraces, while ground level traffic moved in precise, robot coordinated lanes.

It was strangely nostalgic and exhilarating.

"I wonder how Talia’s doing..." she thought.

He brought the transport to a smooth, silent stop at the curb outside an elefabt building building made of smoked glass.

A subtle, elegant sign above the entrance read

VANE.

​"We have arrived," Sebastian said, powering down the vehicle.

"Master Vane is expecting us."

​The interior of Vane’s studio looked less like a boutique and more like a high-end laboratory crossed with a fine art gallery.

​Sleek, chrome mannequins stood along the perimeter, clad in high-tech combat gear.

Digital scanning rigs hung from the ceiling, their blue targeting lasers idling softly in the air.

Standing in the center of the room, tapping rapidly on a transparent holographic tablet, was a middle-aged woman with sharp features and short-cropped silver hair.

She wore a dark, tailored jumpsuit with thick leather tool belts slung low over her hips, her eyes protected by specialized magnifying lenses that floated eerily just in front of her pupils.

​"You’re seven minutes late, Sebastian," she said without looking up from her tablet.

​"My apologies, Master Vane," Sebastian replied smoothly, stepping into the studio behind Emily.

"Traffic along the coastal boulevard was...congested."

​Vane grunted, turning her attention away from the tablet.

Her sharp, magnified eyes locked onto Emily, scanning her from head to toe in a single, terrifyingly thorough second.

So," Vane said, stepping forward and circling Emily like a hawk stalking its prey.

"This is the girl Merlin’s been spamming my private server about for weeks."