Free Web NovelChapter 31: Nobility
"Operational movements? What exactly do you mean by doing work with my physical vessel?" Lola jumped backward, her hands instinctively flying to cover her chest. Her hyper-velocity intellect immediately cascaded into all kinds of illicit, terrifying scenarios.
But Xander didn’t execute a single untoward maneuver.
He merely settled into a disciplined, cross-legged stance on the dusty floorboards directly in front of her, his cold gaze piercing right through her.
"Recite every single syllable of vocabulary, grammatical inflection, and phonetic frequency you possess regarding the demi-human dialect. I will only grant you a single prompt to do so."
"Aaah?" Lola stared at him blankly, her jaw slack. Of all the torturous queries she had anticipated from a masked executioner, this specific baseline request was entirely outside her predictive models.
He literally just wanted to acquire linguistic data?
"Noble sir, forgive my sudden interruption," Lola whispered timidly, attempting to gauge his behavioral boundaries. "Although the barking syntax of the wilderness clans is fundamentally primitive, the biological adjustments required for human vocal tracts mean it is mathematically impossible to master the core dialect within a condensed timeframe."
Xander didn’t waste a single point of stamina on a verbal rebuttal.
He smoothly unclipped one of his silver-gleaming curved daggers, placing the naked steel flat upon the wooden crate separating them. freeweɓnovel.cøm
"You dictate the knowledge base. I catalog the inputs."
Lola wanted to shed tears of absolute frustration, but her dehydration penalty prevented it.
She had survived high-stakes financial schemes against southern merchant cartels, only to be systematically drafted into serving as a localized language tutor for a demonic assassin.
A truly single-minded, psychopathic brute, she thought, utterly miserable.
Yet, staring at the razor-sharp edge of the blade, she forced her throat muscles to contract, systematically breaking down every nuance of the guttural dialect she had acquired.
Although the linguistic layout of the demi-human tribes was mechanically basic, it remained a distinct system of communication.
Navigating its phonetic traps without proper structural guidance was an extraordinary hurdle.
Lola’s structural lecture, cataloging the minor fragments of conversational code she had leveraged to trick the grunts, extended for a little over two grueling hours.
She eventually paused, watching Xander warily through the dim morning light.
"S-Sir... I have officially depleted my entire vocabulary ledger. There is simply no additional data to extract."
Xander remained entirely motionless, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern.
Suddenly, a strange, raspy, and profoundly queer vibration erupted from beneath his cloth mask.
Lola’s heart nearly stopped the moment the phonetic frequency hit her ears.
That specific vocal bark translated precisely to "Nourishment" within the clan’s communication tree.
How is this mechanically viable? I spent a year of agonizing study to simulate those canine frequencies, yet this monster achieves perfect phonetic replication after listening to a single continuous data feed for two hours?
Lola felt as though her cognitive parameters were suffering from a localized system error.
But before she could process the anomaly, Xander leaned forward and addressed her directly using the primitive language.
"Your instructional delivery was highly efficient. The data has been compiled. However, your operational movement metrics present too high a risk to my perimeter to allow your immediate extraction."
He stood up with fluid grace, unraveling a length of reinforced hemp rope from his utility belt, and systematically anchored Lola’s limbs directly to the structural frame of the wooden bedpost.
After placing a few dense bricks of traveler’s bread within arm’s reach, Xander thoroughly barricaded the exterior shutters, locked the main door mechanism from the outside, and vanished into the gray morning mist alone.
Lola sat pinned against the timber, staring into the dark room with a hollow, vacant expression as if she had just witnessed a high-tier cosmic manifestation.
She was so thoroughly dismantled by his developmental speed that she completely forgot to test her escape modifiers against the knots!
Though, calculating the physical tier of his ropework, any manual resistance sub-routine would have yielded a total failure anyway.
Xander had, in fact, perfectly integrated the demi-human language matrix into his character profile.
And executing that developmental leap within a two-hour window was a concrete, verifiable reality.
Following the total liquidation of Merchant Miller and the purge of Estate 31, Xander hadn’t merely pushed his primary combat metrics to achieve a Tier 1 Dual-Wield Ranger at Level 5.
He had also systematically analyzed the hidden scaling parameters of his baseline life class: [Nobility].
In the standard global matrix of Feinan, this specialized societal class possessed a hard developmental ceiling; ascending to the rank of a localized Baron allowed a noble’s life class to scale to Level 4, at which point further advancement required a formal territorial upgrade or a higher sovereign title.
Xander had noted that his baseline data pool held 40 unallocated class experience points.
He had casually diverted 10 points of general experience into the node, triggering a clean advancement.
[System Update: Your secondary Life Class ’Nobility’ has ascended to Level 4]
[Unallocated Specialty Points Granted: +20 Noble Skill Points]
[Class Feature Unlocked: Specialty Perk Acquired — ’Quick Study’]
[Perk Profile — Quick Study (Level 4 Nobility Specialty)]
[Description: Your bloodline carries the refined cognitive imprints of ancient spellcaster lineages. Activating this perk allows your consciousness to assimilate vast repositories of localized data within a compressed window.]
[Cooldown Modifier: 3 Hours of continuous activation permitted per calendar month.]
[Target Parameters: Applicable to Language Matrices, Cartographical Logs, Cultural Lore, or Planar Astronomy.]
It was precisely this specialized bloodline modifier that had prompted Xander to draft Lola as a temporary linguistic data feed.
The calculation had yielded a flawless execution.
[Specialty Activated: Quick Study]
[Processing raw auditory data feed...]
[Assimilation sequence concluded: Knowledge Attribute expanded]
[Sub-Skill Registered: Language Matrix — ’Elementary Gnoll Dialect’ acquired]
[Current Mastery: Tier 1 (Capable of processing basic tribal communications)]
He had successfully integrated the foundational dialect of his enemies.
Even if his current conversational tier was functionally basic, it provided him with the mandatory analytical tools required to conduct a high-risk reconnaissance sweep.
Navigating a hostile stronghold while remaining entirely deaf to the ambient commands of the garrison forces was a tactical blunder he refused to commit.
So, the ’Nobility’ class isn’t merely an cosmetic title node after all, Xander analyzed as he slipped through the rain-slicked brush.
The high-tier scholars presiding over the Pearl Tower utilize analogous cognitive sub-routines to master ancient texts in a matter of hours. I hadn’t anticipated a baseline feudal bloodline would mirror those exact perks.
However, relying on his deep historical database, Xander surmised that this specific perk wasn’t a universal guarantee for every minor aristocrat on the continent; its manifestation rate was dictated at character generation.
The ancient houses of Feinan were historically founded by high-tier arcanists or their direct bloodline extensions, meaning their veins carried distinct genetic matrices.
When leveling the class, there was always a fractional probability of awakening a rare specialty.
[Quick Study] was objectively one of the most powerful utilities in that bracket.
With the linguistic bottleneck resolved, Xander ceased his deliberations.
Utilizing the absolute visual concealment of the steady gray drizzle, he rapidly navigated the jagged terrain contouring the sheer eastern mountain wall of Redoak Vale Castle.
A highly secure, completely undocumented emergency extraction path was anchored to this specific rock face.
The subterranean tunnel bypassed the outer battlements entirely, terminating directly beneath the reinforced framing of the Lord’s master bedchamber.
During the chaos of the initial midnight breach, the original young noble had been trapped in the central dining hall, rendering him physically incapable of reaching the extraction node.
Consequently, the secret path remained completely uncompromised and invisible to the invading forces.
Maintaining absolute [Stealth], Xander leveraged his enhanced agility parameters to seamlessly glide past the peripheral vision lines of the distant castle sentries, eventually parting a dense, thorny thicket of native briars pressing against the granite foundation.
He cleared away a hidden layer of sodden thatch, revealing a heavy ironwood trapdoor countersunk into the stone.
Xander slipped into the dark aperture, his hand dipping into the spatial pocket of his [Void Conch] to retrieve a pre-packed resin torch and a flint striker.
He ignited the tip; the flame flared into a brilliant, steady illumination.
The internal air quality monitors within his interface remained green, indicating the ventilation shafts were functioning properly.
He pulled the heavy ironwood door shut, reset the camouflage thatch above, and initiated a low-profile, cat-like stalk down the long subterranean corridor.
The ambient atmospheric humidity shifted dramatically the deeper he advanced; the internal climate of the stone tunnel was remarkably dry.
Despite the thick coats of centuries-old dust kicking up around his ankles, the completely drenched Xander felt his core body temperature parameters immediately stabilize.
He pushed forward at a rapid pace, his high memory retention metrics allowing him to seamlessly navigate the layout of the underground shaft.
Suddenly, a massive structural fork materialized in the stone ahead.
According to the historical coordinates embedded in his thoughts, the left path ascended a narrow stone staircase leading directly to the master bedchamber exit.
The right branch, however, was completely sealed by a massive, intentional rockfall that choked the corridor.
Xander paused, his eyes tracking the jagged outlines of the boulder barrier.
He recalled the cryptic, dying declarations of Merchant Miller just before his execution—the corrupt merchant had frantically babbled regarding a hidden ancestral vault containing a massive cache of high-grade treasures buried deep within the foundations of the castle.
Could the entrance to that specific family treasury be anchored directly behind this deliberate rock collapse?
Xander analyzed the obstruction for a brief moment.
He suppressed his curiosity; even if a high-value treasure node was anchored behind the granite, the assets weren’t going to spontaneously manifest legs and march away on their own.
His immediate operational priority was the successful conclusion of his data acquisition sweep.
Securing flawless reconnaissance data was the absolute macro-variable that dictated victory or total wipeout on the battlefield.
Having sufficient tactical information allowed a commander to optimize his deployment models; Xander would never entrust a scouting routine of this magnitude to a hired mercenary asset.
He had to log the parameters himself.
He turned toward the left corridor, cautiously ascending the stone steps until he pressed his back against the false backing of the master bedchamber exit.
He focused his acoustic tracking, verifying there were zero vocal frequencies or heavy footfalls vibrating through the timber.
His luck modifier was holding.
Xander gently triggered the mechanism, sliding into the abandoned room and instantly dropping into deep [Stealth].
He calculated every single step with absolute precision, utilizing the heavy shadows of the castle’s internal corridors to map the occupancy.
As he peered down from the overlooking balconies into the central courtyard sectors, a sequence of dark silhouettes began registering in his vision.
The sheer volume of entities caused his analytical mind to flash an immediate warning.
These entities aren’t active martial combatants!
The vast majority of the demi-humans roaming the inner courtyards completely lacked the musculature or gear of professional grunts.
They were common tribal dependents—frail, aged females, juvenile whelps, and sickly elders.
Xander’s visual counter rapidly logged the civilian population: well over two hundred distinct non-combat entities!
This structural composition completely altered his threat evaluation.
This wasn’t a mere rogue raiding detachment; this was a complete, medium-sized demi-human clan migration.
A tribal infrastructure of this scale mathematically guaranteed the presence of at least one hundred and fifty active, fully leveled combat class-holders acting as the vanguard.
That level of raw steel was an obstacle that his twenty-man mercenary squad could never dismantle in a brute-force frontline engagement—especially when factoring in the devastating clearing power of those level 4 mutated aard-wolves.
He continued his ghost-like transit through the upper levels of the castle.
Fortunately, his absolute familiarity with the architectural layout, combined with the notoriously low passive perception parameters of the common gnolls, allowed him to systematically extract himself from the interior zones without triggering a single awareness meter.
However, a critical discrepancy remained in his data ledger.
He had successfully mapped nearly eighty percent of the clan’s active martial positions, logging approximately one hundred and fifty functional grunt fighters, six distinct Level 3 Vanguard Officers, and two highly imposing Level 4 Clan Adjutants.
Yet, he had found absolutely zero traces of the supreme warlord commanding this horde.
The mutated aard-wolves pacing the perimeter completely ignored the barking commands of the common grunts, and they had demonstrated clear resistance to the authority of the level 4 adjutants.
Their behavior patterns indicated they were tightly tethered to the consciousness of a far more terrifying presence.
What specific Class path does their chieftain hold?
Harboring an intense, cold suspicion in his thoughts, Xander tightened his grip on his daggers, preparing to execute a high-risk penetration into the deep subterranean wine cellars to verify the final blind spots.
But right at that exact millisecond, a sudden commotion erupted near the central thoroughfare just beyond the castle gates.
A heavily armed escort of elite gnoll guards emerged from the mist, systematically flanking a remarkably thin, pint-sized figure.
Xander’s eyes instantly locked onto the target, his pupils shrinking to absolute pinpricks as his mental database recognized the entity’s rare magical signature.
The entity was completely abnormal.
While common gnolls were already relatively short compared to human martial classes, this specific individual possessed a physical frame that barely mirrored the proportions of a five-year-old human child.
Yet, his silver-gray fur was flawlessly groomed, shimmering with a distinct, unnatural sheen.
More terrifyingly, the savage, battle-hardened guards surrounding him were maintaining a posture of absolute, trembling reverence.
By the gods... my analytical calculus missed a critical variable.
The gnoll race—a demi-human lineage globally categorized by every high-tier academy as possessing utterly bottom-tier intelligence metrics—has actually managed to trigger a genetic miracle?
[Target Scanned: Elite Clan Chieftain]
[Classification: Tier 2 Advanced Class-Holder — ’Innate Sorcerer’]
Xander’s elite tactical judgment overrode every other impulse, flashing an immediate, absolute command to his muscles:
Execute immediate extraction. Fall back now!
The foundational, tier 1 innate spell native to the Sorcerer archetype—[Eye of Pain]—was the absolute, hard-counter bane of every stealth mechanism in the world game.
If that pint-sized terror cast a passive diagnostic sweep across the courtyard, Xander’s camouflage matrix would be instantly shattered.
He was a lone squishy rogue trapped in the absolute heart of an enemy stronghold; he had to abandon the sector immediately!
