Chapter 12
The creature slowly stalked forward as Alden slumped into the ground.
"You're interesting," it said. "I can feel your spirit, it's potent, strong. Too strong for such a weak vessel."
It tilted its head.
"Yet, you're not a wraith. And even more curious is, you don't seem to be a cultivator."
The wraith's words barely registered into Alden's ears. He tried to stand, vision flickering at the edges. But his body didn't have the strength to move anymore.
Between stalking the Mercy inn, killing Jarek, fighting Varo, and running away. He just had done too much. He could only watch as the entity drew close.
Still, it seemed like it wasn't his time to go yet.
"I'd suggest you leave that one alone."
Unhurried footsteps echoed, drawing the wraith's attention. A masked woman wrapped in dark slowly revealed herself, the silver edging of her cloak catching the light.
Marrow Quinn.
She stepped forward, seemingly walking slow, yet, Alden didn't know when she got close enough to stand in front of him.
Her eyes flicked to him for half a second, long enough to register his state, then back to the thing wearing Varo's face.
The wraith studied her, its head still tilted. The smile on its face was all teeth and curiosity.
"You're rather brave," it said. "For someone who's not even a cultivator."
"Against a parasite like you," Quinn replied. "I'm more than enough."
The smile on Varo's face faltered, just slightly. Then the creature lunged.
Its body surged forward in a blur of speed. One foot shattered stone under the sudden force. A backhand swung wide with terrifying momentum, enough to fold a normal fighter in half.
But Quinn wasn't there anymore.
She slipped beneath the strike, and immediately counterattacked. Two daggers flashed out from her sleeves, gleaming faintly under the lamplight. One in reverse grip, the other flicking forward in a blur.
The first cut scored across Varo's rib. The second stabbed into his shoulder, only to catch against suddenly taut muscle, like metal grating into tree bark.
The creature grinned. Its free arm bent unnaturally, elbow twisting backwards, and launched a counter-strike aimed at her midsection.
Quinn jumped back, dodging the strike. Her daggers spun once in her fingers before falling still. A moment passed as she reassessed her opponent.
The air shimmered faintly around her as a wave of pressure burst outward, just enough to kick up dust. Her body blurred forward, reappearing beside the wraith in the blink of an eye.
One strike.
Two.
A third cut across Varo's back before the creature spun around, screeching. It lunged with an awkward contortion of limbs, shoulder twisting too far, spine cracking as it arched backward mid-pivot.
Its fingers clawed for her throat.
Quinn ducked low, swept the leg. But the wraith caught the motion and slammed a knee down toward her head.
She raised her forearm, blocked, skidded back, boots scraping stone.
The impact bruised her arm, but the pain barely registered. Her hand opened, releasing a pulse of faint green light from her palm.
A mist shimmered around her form, distorting the edges of her body like heat haze. She vanished again, and appeared behind the creature, daggers poised to strike once more.
But this time, the wraith was ready.
It spun on all fours, body spidering around in an animalistic lurch. One arm whipped toward her with a limb too long, joints bent in too many places.
She barely evaded the blow, sliding along the alley floor. Then, the next moment, she was back to hacking at the wraith again.
It seemed like they were evenly matched. Each reading the other in moments, neither managing to land a decisive blow to end the fight.
But then, shouts rang out down the street.
Boots. Steel. And the light of torches lit the distance.
The creature turned its head sharply.
"Ah," it muttered. "The boring ones are coming."
It glanced at Quinn and then at the weakened form of Alden one last time before rushing away, disappearing into the alleys.
Quinn watched it leave with a quiet frown. She then sheathed her daggers and turned toward the crumpled figure slumped in the open road.
Alden groaned as she approached, shifting slightly. His head lolled forward, blood dried along his jaw, breath ragged and shallow.
"Tell me you're not here to kill me too." He rasped, lips twitching, attempting a smile.
Quinn paused. A beat of silence passed, then she reached up and unfastened the dark half-mask from her face.
"No," she said, sparing him a small smile. "You're safe."
Alden let out a weak breath, part relief, part exhausted laugh. "That's new."
She stepped beside him, crouching slightly to examine his state. Her eyes lingered on the bruises, then at the dark patch spreading beneath his side.
"You should be dead." She murmured.
"Been hearing that a lot lately."
Before she could respond, the heavy footsteps finally reached them. A group of four city guards approached, blades half-drawn, eyes scanning for threats.
One of them raised a hand as he saw the gleaming badge hanging on Quinn's hip.
"Lady Thornevale?"
Quinn stood slowly, and nodded at the man.
"There was a wraith," she said. "It took possession of a man named Varo."
The guards stiffened. "A wraith?"
Quinn nodded.
"And you chased it off?"
She nodded once more.
"As expected from a member of the Thornevale family! We'll make sure to report the incident and begin sealing the area."
Quinn didn't reply. She simply watched them until they turned and began clearing the perimeter. Once they were gone, she returned to Alden.
By then, he had completely lost consciousness. She knelt and looped an arm around his back, lifting him gently.
******************************
The world was quiet when Alden came to.
The was no screaming. No fighting. No blood in his mouth or fire in his lungs.
Just quiet.
He blinked once, eyes adjusting to the dim morning light filtering through a shuttered window.
The air smelled faintly of herbal salve and clean linen. He was in a small room with wood-paneled walls, a basin on the nightstand, and a chair beside the bed, currently empty.
The mattress beneath him was soft, far too comfortable compared to what he was used to.
He shifted slightly, and immediately regretted it. His chest flared with pain. Though it was dulled now, a heavy ache wrapped in layers of tight bandages.
Someone had tended to him.
Thinking this far, Alden let his head fall back against the pillow.
For a long moment, he just lay there.
Breathing. Letting the silence settle into his bones. Letting the previous events catch up to him.
The ambush.
The alley.
Jarek's final breath.
Varo's fists.
The wraith.
He could still feel the thing's cold presence deep in his spine… He had survived. And that's all that mattered for now.
He closed his eyes again, and allowed himself to feel at peace, safe.
It wasn't long before a knock on the door interrupted him. He looked towards the wooden door as it creaked open.
A girl stepped in with a casual gait. She wore simple dark clothes. Her face was sharp and composed.
Alden recognized her instantly.
"You're awake." She stated. Her voice, though softer than the previous night, carried the same calm weight. "You're quite resilient."
Alden pushed himself up with a grunt and smiled faintly.
"I've survived worse." He muttered. Technically, he had survived dying once, or maybe twice. But he wasn't going to say that.
He paused to adjust the bandage around his ribs. "Though I hope this doesn't become a habit."
"In your line of work?" She said, stepping closer. "I doubt that."
She handed him a small jug of water, which Alden drank greedily. His throat burned with relief. He hadn't eaten in more than a day. His body was dying for some water.
"Thanks," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
There was a brief silence before she spoke again.
"I suppose introductions are due." She met his gaze. "Renna Thornevale. I'm an aspirant, training to become a Qi Cultivator."
Alden blinked. "Thornevale."
He recognized the name. The Thornevale family was the one managing the town of Lint. It was led by Isaac Thornevale, a cultivator.
"I'd appreciate it," she continued, "if you could keep my identity as an arena fighter a secret."
Alden nodded, absorbing the information.
"Alden," he offered. "No surname. Though you may know me better as the Silver Hunter."
"Well, nice to know you, Alden." She replied with a light smile, which Alden mirrored.
He leaned back slightly, letting out a soft breath. "By the way, thanks for saving me last night. I'm really grateful for that."
Renna's lips curved faintly. "It was nothing."
Then she added dryly, "but, you do owe me."
Alden chuckled and tilted his head at that. He gave the girl a curious look.
"Also, I've taken the liberty to buy out your debt," she said. "As of now, the Vein no longer holds your contract. I do."
He stared at her for a second, unsure if the words had landed correctly. "You… bought my debt?"
She nodded once. "Fully cleared with the Vein. You're now free from their leash."
Alden didn't speak immediately. Part of him felt relieved. His debt wasn't cleared, it just changed hand. But not owing anything to the Vein anymore was a huge relief for him.
But the other part felt apprehensive about Renna. He didn't know what she wanted, or what kind of person she was. And she had gone quite some length to cement the fact that he owed her now.
Whatever her reason, she'd kept him alive. So, at the very least, he wouldn't be dying again. "I guess… I owe you even more then."
Renna didn't deny it. She turned the chair at Alden's bedside, and sat down, resting her arms above the backrest. "Well, you know how it goes. There's something that I need you to do for me."
"But before that, let me ask you something," she said. "Do you want to be a Qi Cultivator?"