The dawn of the fifth day brought a faint silver light to the jagged peaks surrounding the kobold settlement. The air was cold and still, carrying only the distant echo of dripping water from somewhere deep within the mountains.
From that gloom emerged Rax, flanked by half a dozen kobolds. They moved in tense silence, each pair of clawed hands gripping crudely fashioned wooden boxes. Even from a distance, the faint shimmer of minerals and gems could be glimpsed between the warped slats.
When they were about twenty meters from Zatiel, the group set their burdens down on the rocky ground. None dared approach further. As soon as the last box thudded to the earth, the kobolds turned on their heels and vanished back toward the mountain. Only Rax remained, his posture tense but resolute.
This had been his order. If the being before them was displeased, they were to scatter in different directions without hesitation, maximizing the chance that at least some would escape. As for himself, Rax had already resolved to hold the stranger's attention long enough for his people to flee.
In the Magi World, such self-sacrifice would have been seen as weakness or foolish sentiment. But these kobolds had lived their entire lives without encountering others of their kind. For them, the tribe was the species, and the loss of it would mean extinction.
Zatiel had watched the entire procession with detached curiosity. The plan behind their cautious retreat was obvious to him almost immediately. Instead of sparking irritation, however, the display of discipline and loyalty stirred a flicker of approval in his mind.
Not bad. They might prove useful yet.
"Mighty one," Rax said, lowering himself to one knee, his voice taut with uncertainty, "we have gathered all the minerals and jewels we could mine. I have brought them to you."
Zatiel rose smoothly and walked to the boxes. He knelt, sifting through their contents with an unhurried hand. Ores of iron, veins of copper, chunks of quartz, and here and there the sparkle of more precious stones—most unrefined, all bearing the marks of crude tools.
"Ease your mind," Zatiel said after a moment. "You've done reasonably well. Most of these are of little value to me, but some will serve in my experiments."
The tension bled from Rax's shoulders at those words.
"What you have brought," Zatiel continued, "is enough to spare your tribe. But it is not enough to warrant an exchange for strength." His tone was calm but unyielding. He knew full well the kobolds worked under coercion, not loyalty. Left unchecked, they would likely turn on him the moment the balance of power shifted.
Rax held his gaze for a heartbeat, then inclined his head. "Please wait here. I will return shortly."
Without another word, he turned and jogged toward the mountain's shadow.
Sophia, who had watched the entire exchange from a few steps away, glanced at Zatiel. "Will you truly help them grow stronger if they bring you something valuable?"
"If they present a proper offering, why not?" Zatiel replied. His voice was matter-of-fact, almost bored. "I value fair exchange. Strength for value—it's a simple equation."
"But… most Magi look down on dealing with non-humans," Sophia said, her brow furrowed. "It's considered demeaning."
Zatiel gave a short, cold laugh. "Such proclamations are the lies of hypocrites. The Magi deal with all manner of beings when it suits them. Many have altered themselves so far beyond their original form that calling them human is… generous."
The comment landed harder than Sophia expected. She realized how much of her thinking was shaped by rote lessons and inherited prejudice. A flush of embarrassment crept into her cheeks.
"Apologies," she murmured, lowering her gaze.
"Don't apologize," Zatiel said. "With strength comes clarity. The beliefs you take for truth are often nothing more than the constructs the powerful allow to stand."
Their conversation ended as Rax reappeared, moving quickly, a cloth-wrapped object clutched in his hands. He slowed as he drew near, then knelt again, offering the bundle with both arms extended.
"Mighty one, I present this rock I discovered while exploring the deep tunnels," Rax said, his voice tinged with hope. "I do not know its use, but I believe it may be valuable."
Zatiel took the object, unwrapping the rough cloth. Inside lay a gem the size of a clenched fist, its surface alive with shifting color. The hues flowed seamlessly from crimson to sapphire to emerald, each shade accompanied by a faint pulse of light—as though it beat in time with a heart.
Sophia leaned forward, caught in its beauty. "Is it… valuable?"
Rax's gaze locked on Zatiel, searching for a reaction, every line of his body tense.
"No," Zatiel said at last, shattering the tension. "This gem is known as a Rainbow Flash. It can absorb energy and later release it at a specific frequency—enough to affect certain magical equipment. Its shifting colors are nothing more than an optical trick of the mineral."
Rax exhaled slowly, the breath of a man who had dared to hope but expected disappointment. Zatiel could have lied, taken the stone, and offered nothing in return. The fact that he hadn't spoke volumes.
"However," Zatiel added, "you're in luck. While it isn't worth much on the open market, it is precisely what I require at this moment."
Before Rax could react, Zatiel placed his palm on the kobold's scaled forehead. His voice was silent to the world, but within his mind the command rang clear:
A.I. Chip, transmit the first level of Burning Blood. Insert a backdoor into the technique.
The backdoor was a precaution—insurance that the knowledge could never be turned against him.
The transfer took moments. When Zatiel withdrew his hand, Rax's eyes were already distant, absorbing the flood of information. His astonishment deepened with every passing second.
"This… this technique," Rax said in awe, "is it truly as extraordinary as it seems?"
"It is," Zatiel confirmed. "But what I have given you is only the first level. It will allow one to reach the peak of rank 0. Share it only with those you trust completely. If word spreads, stronger races will descend upon you, and your tribe will be exterminated."
Rax swallowed hard and nodded. The Burning Blood technique might not mean much to Zatiel, but here in the Wasteland, it was priceless—and deadly if mishandled.
"I will follow your counsel. And… the other levels?" His voice held both fear and longing.
"When I return, if you have more valuable items to trade, I may share the next level. First, strengthen yourselves. Survive. Then, seek the means to buy further strength."
It was a calculated move. A stronger kobold tribe would be better equipped to gather the resources Zatiel wanted, yet with the hidden control woven into their cultivation, betrayal would be impossible.
"We will follow your guidance, Mighty One," Rax said, bowing low. When he rose and left, the deference in his movements had shifted—it was no longer only fear.
Sophia waited until he was gone before speaking. "What did you give him?"
Zatiel glanced at her. "A Path Technique."
Her eyes widened. "WHAT?"