Free Web NovelChapter 34: _A Cataclysmic Shift
Ambrose stayed frozen. Hardly breathing as he stared at the man beside him.
His Death Sense flared the longer he looked. The man’s eyes were now shaded with sunglasses, but the Guide could still feel the pressure from those blood-red orbs.
This man has been watching him all night. And now... he was right here with him.
Subconsciously, Ambrose managed to glance back at the rest of the ballroom. There was no sign of Devon there and Viktor seemed to be talking to someone on the dancefloor.
Meaning—
—He was in every sense alone right now.
"I imagined you’d be more talkative." The man’s voice snapped the silence between them. He smirked, head tilting as he assessed Ambrose like a conundrum he couldn’t wait to crack.
Ambrose’s throat constricted. "I don’t usually speak to strangers. Especially the ones who look like they could steal my soul over a few drinks."
He didn’t say that to be funny.
Yet the man laughed, an unrestrained, casual sound. Like he was catching up with an old flame.
That only spiked Ambrose’s anxiety. ’Aura... please tell me you’re scanning this guy’s stats right now.’
[Scanning incomplete.]
Huh?
’Is he at least an Esper as I suspected?’
[Yes. However, the control over his aether energy reserves is so precise that my scanners are finding it... difficult to gauge his true rank.]
[Don’t worry, hon. This should only take a few seconds.]
Ambrose didn’t know whether to be comforted or be shitting his pants right now.
S-Ranks like Devon, Alisha and Viktor have been easily scanned by the system before. Almost instantly in fact.
So this man suddenly giving Aura a run for her money meant one thing. Whatever his rank, he was far more powerful than either Devon or Viktor.
Probably as powerful as Phoenix Flight’s Guild master.
"Who are you?" He questioned when the man finally stopped laughing.
The mysterious man’s brows arched. "That’s funny. I was about to ask you the same thing too. Well—something similar but with a different twist," he leaned in just slightly, head lowering like a predator scrutinising prey. "WHAT are you?"
Although Ambrose had been terrified since his eyes set on this man, now he was even more shaken.
What sort of question was that?
’Does he know I transmigrated?’ he couldn’t help but ask himself at the same moment that the bartender pulled up with the two shots they ordered.
With a pleased smile, the mysterious man grabbed his shot, downing it in one go. "Ah... anyway, I’ll give you a name since you so graciously asked," a pause. "Valentine Lockwood. An Esper who can see that you carry death around you."
[Scanning complete!]
[Target acquired.]
[Gender: Male
Sexuality: Fluid
Rank: SS Rank.
Main power types: Necromancy, Soul manipulation and death manipulation.
Attraction points: Null.
Total Evaluation: Possible Future Link.]
The system screen blinked repeatedly with this information before him. Yet the more Ambrose looked at them the more speechless he became.
SS Rank?!
Necromancer?!
Soul manipulation?!
"You can sense death, can’t you?" Valentine stated more than he asked.
The system’s screens disappeared instantly as Ambrose’s eyes bulged. "W–What—?"
"Or at least, death’s intoxicating aura," the man shrugged. "That should explain why you were able to sense me looking each time we locked eyes."
"N–No. I’m a Guide. How can I—?"
"Clearly not an ordinary one."
Across the hall, far away from the bar, music and dancefloor was Devon. This part of the gala was secluded, similar to the VIP lounges upstairs.
Here Devon pretended to give a shit about Hunter’s politics while holding himself from barging straight for Viktor and giving him a punch in the throat.
"Mr Hillary," Devon’s grandfather beamed at an important person.
Minutes after leaving Ambrose’s side, his old man had immediately snatched him to introduce him to the top figures at the gala.
Including this man.
The Vice President of the United States Hunters Federation.
"This is my grandson," his grandfather continued, hand clamped to Devon’s shoulder. "Aka our country’s latest national hero."
Devon tried hard not to roll his eyes.
Of course, his grandfather would only be eager to show him off after doing something as monumental as clearing an S-Rank dungeon.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man." The other man stretched a hand which Devon shook without hesitation. "Leading an S-Rank dungeon raid is no easy feat."
"Thank you, sir. You flatter me too much."
Meanwhile, Viktor watched this from the edge of the dancefloor, drink in hand and expression tinted with amusement. His dearest mama—Aka the Guild master of Glacier Talon—had introduced him to the Federation Vice President earlier tonight.
He definitely won’t desire to have that talk again. All the man kept yapping on and on about was the raid and if he was certain there were no more monsters.
What he said was what he’s always said from the beginning.
There was something mysterious about the way the dungeon closed.
With a shake of his head, he pivoted to the bar. Curious to see if Ambrose had finished taking that "drink".
However, when his eyes landed on the counter, they lost their usual teasing light. Because of a man sitting too close for comfort to the Guide.
What made his brows knit was the man’s aura. He couldn’t accurately sense his aether energy but could tell he was an Esper. That’s... odd. He should at least be able to guess his power level.
"Why can’t I read his aether energy?"
On the flip side, Valentine smirked. He could feel conversations already brewing about him. Meaning he had overstayed his welcome.
"I understand we all have secrets, Ambrose," he muttered, gaze flicking from the Guide’s shot glass to his silver eyes. "So I won’t pry into yours further. Just... take a little heads-up. If we should call it that."
"It’s unfortunate," under the same breath, the Vice President’s expression became grave. "Other than the record time you used in clearing the dungeon, it also paved the way for the discovery of a new, disturbing Rift phenomenon."
Devon’s forehead creased. "Pardon?" His eyes slid to his grandfather.
Whatever the vice president was talking about, the old man knew as well.
"I was there to witness the aftermath of the dungeon raid," Valentine’s fingers played on the counter’s smooth surface. "I felt how much energy was left once you were out. It was still a lot. Enough to keep the Rift open for at least the rest of the day."
He paused, searching the Guide’s face. For any signs that he was catching on.
Of course, Ambrose was completely clueless, blinking like a confused goldfish.
"Energy doesn’t just disappear," the Necromancer went on. "It’s either reused or transferred to another source..."
"The Rift should’ve never disappeared like that," the vice president responded to Devon’s confusion. "It had enough aether energy to keep running longer. Unless somehow..."
"Wait." Ambrose’s head clicked with something. He finally found the courage to talk to the man without feeling like he was signing a death warrant. "Are you saying the Rift could still be active even though it’s closed?"
Valentine’s lips quivered.
Hm. Perhaps the Guide was perceptive in other aspects after all.
"Not ’active’ in the way you’re probably thinking." Valentine’s back straightened. "But yes. Its energy has most likely been recycled to another source. An entirely different location."
Across the hall, Devon’s brain spun as the vice president gave a similar explanation. "But... how? What sort of anomaly would this be classified as?"
The Vice President adjusted his prescription glasses. "The Federation has been researching the phenomenon these past three days. And we’ve coined a term for it."
There was a heavy pause before he let it out. "An Echo Rift. While we’re still uncertain on how it formed to begin with, this clearly means one thing."
Valentine tapped a finger once on his shot glass, maintaining a smirk at Ambrose. "For the first time since the Emergence, Dungeon Rifts might be shifting. Into something more cataclysmic."
