Crispin stood in the tall, wind-swept grass with Bethany, the air already carrying the cool, damp weight of deep stone. Void Lash coiled at his hip, and his spear across his back.
Bethany cooed at Ashara. The golden dragon whelp hovered in tight, curious circles around Regulus; her muzzle twitched as she sniffed the deep red drake scales that now layered his Shadowmane architecture.
"I know we get to choose how we spend our time in the field," Crispin said, adjusting his satchel. "I had some thoughts, if you care to hear them?"
Bethany smiled, her kind, pretty warmth diffused the tension of the market place. "I had some ideas too. You go first."
"The Shadow-Thicket," Crispin began, gesturing toward the looming darkness ahead. "It has tons of monsters—unique ones that are rarely seen in our lands. It would allow us to experience in the field, allow us and our tames to grow in strength, and could net us treasures as a mercantile that you would probably swoon for just because of uniqueness alone."
Bethany's eyes glittered with excitement as she calculated the angles of the hunt. "It's dangerous, but yes, I'm willing to explore it. I thought we could also range into the wetlands. Same reasons, actually. There are so many beasts and monsters in there that we rarely see that could give us things to sell, but maybe blueprints Regy would enjoy too."
Crispin looked down at the massive, red-scaled lion at his side. "Regy? Are you okay with the wetlands?"
Regulus let out a low, vibrating huff and nodded his golden-maned head.
"Okay, let's do the Thicket first, then the wetlands tomorrow," Bethany agreed.
"Okay," Crispin said, but his voice slowed. He reached out and softly touched her arm, the void-silk of his cloak catching the light. "There is something I want to talk about too..."
Bethany flushed a deep rose, her fingers tightening on her bow. "I'm really sorry about—"
"Goodness no, none of that," Crispin interrupted. "You and I are okay, truly. Regy and I have been working on something, and it's a bit of a secret. He wishes to share that secret with you. You'd keep it close to your chest, wouldn't you?"
"Crispin... of course," she whispered.
Crispin stroked Regy's golden mane. "Okay, buddy."
A violent ripple passed through the Sovereign's mass. A bud split from Regulus, pulsing with a deep red light before it expanded and hardened. It grew into an Aetheral Long, and hovered silently at Bethany's side. It towered over her; its charcoal-and-red frame was a wall of protection.
Bethany's eyes widened in astonishment.
"He feels it's his fault because you got hurt," Crispin explained, his voice low with empathy. "On outings, he wants you to have one of his buds with you at all times, so you're protected."
Bethany didn't hesitate. She threw her arms around the bud's massive neck, pressing her face into its scales. "Thank you, sweet king. I never imagined you could do this, but please know... it wasn't your fault."
"He calls this bud Conor, if it helps," Crispin chuckled. "He's hive-minded; it can get confusing to me without them all having names."
Bethany stroked Conor's snout. "Conor. I like that."
Regulus did not wait. He ranged ahead toward the Thicket, no longer the playful juvenile of the amphitheater. He stalked, sniffing the air; his crystalline eyes tracked every movement in the shadows. Conor hovered in perfect step with Bethany and Crispin, his weight a grounding presence on their flank. Ashara launched herself from Bethany's shoulder, seeking the high ground above the fungal canopy.
"He says left at the fork," Crispin said, interpreting the tug on the bond.
"What's he hunting?" Bethany asked, her bow in hand, an arrow notched, but the string relaxed.
"He's not sure. He just said it's an unusual smell."
High above, Ashara let out a sharp, chiming cry. Bethany paused, her head tilting as she listened to the dragon's transmission. "Ashara says there is a lake ahead."
"Okay, I've communicated that to Regy. He's extremely curious now."
They eased forward, Conor sniffing the air and keeping a full watch to the sides and behind them. "Conor says the surrounding area is safe for the moment," Crispin reported. "No other humans or elves that he can sense."
"Oh, my—" Bethany blurted.
"What is it?"
"Ashara says the scent... it's an adult hydra. It's in a cave on the north side of the lake."
Crispin went still. "Okay. Let's stop and assess for a moment."
The shadows of the canopy pooled around them as they gathered. Regulus returned from the brush, standing in his full lion form. "Want blueprint," his voice rumbled through the Shadowmane's throat.
Crispin looked at Bethany. "Do you think we could kill it?"
Regy did not answer with words. He split off another bud, which became another Shadowmane.
"This one is Dane," Crispin said.
Bethany's breath caught. "Dane."
"Here is what Regy suggests for the plan," Crispin said, the strategy flowing through the bond. "He says the ridge above the cave is where you, he, Dane, and Conor scout. Your bow has better aim from that tactical position. He and Dane will stalk and lie in wait. Conor stays with you. I approach the cave mouth, throw rocks, and lure it from its lair. They pounce with stealth. Ashara helps me with distractions, fire, and attacks as needed. He said he wants us to sever at least three heads. He will assimilate them after combat. We wait until the heads regrow, then deliver strikes to the lungs and chest until we take it down. That way, you have the full hydra for our loot resources, and we have what we need for the blueprint. He wants the scales. He says they are better than the dragon scales he uses now. They are an adult molt."
Bethany considered the plan, her mercantile mind weighing the risks. "An adult hydra is a tall order. It is a legendary in itself."
"I agree," Crispin said. "But isn't this our goal? Hunt as a team. Improve our standings within the city, the Tamers Guild, and our families?"
Bethany looked at Conor, then at the lake ahead. "Let him just try to control what I do with hydra loot," she mumbled.
Crispin flushed, remembering the fight with her father, and looked down.
"I'm in," Bethany said.
Crispin leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Another thing Regy wishes me to share. He has evolved and can heal. He promises you will be safe, regardless of what it costs him."
"Let's move," Bethany said.
The lake was a mirror of stagnant green water, framed by weeping fungal vines that hung like rotted lace. Crispin stepped onto the shore, the Shadow-Twilight spear heavy in his hand. Above him, on the limestone ridge, he could feel the presence of the three Shadowmanes and Bethany—a line of predators waiting for the signal.
Crispin picked up a heavy shard of quartz and hurled it into the cave mouth.
The stone struck deep inside, cracking against rock with a hollow report that echoed across the lake. Ripples spread across the stagnant surface, disturbing the green film that clung to the edges. The water moved again. It was not from the cave, but from everywhere.
Crispin felt it through his boots as a low-pressure shift. The lake surface dimpled and pulled inward, as though something beneath it inhaled. Vines along the shoreline trembled; their glow dimmed. A hiss rolled out of the darkness, layered and discordant.
The hydra emerged without urgency.
Five heads slid into view on long, serpentine necks, their movements out of sync with one another. One head tasted the air. Another scraped its jaw along the cave wall, showering sparks. A third fixed on the ridge above the lake, eyes clouded and pulsing with dull green light.
The body followed. It was vast. Slick, iridescent scales overlapped in heavy plates, each one filmed with swamp residue and old blood. The creature's bulk displaced water as it advanced, sending waves lapping against the shore. The lake was no longer terrain. It extended the beast.
"Now!" Crispin shouted.
Regulus and Dane launched from the ridge. They struck like falling stones, their combined weight slamming into the hydra's flank. Claws raked through moss-slick scales, peeling back layers to expose darker hide beneath. The hydra recoiled. Two heads snapped downward in unison while the others lashed outward, forcing space.
Above them, Ashara banked hard and released a burst of golden embers. Flame washed over the leftmost heads, blinding them long enough for Bethany to loose her first arrow. It buried itself behind an eye, sinking deep. The hydra screamed. Crispin's teeth rattled from the sound. The heads did not thrash blindly. They spread, circling, cutting off angles. One neck plunged beneath the surface, sending a wake toward the shore.
Crispin advanced anyway, spear raised, eyes locked on the chest as it rose higher from the water. He shifted left, then right, testing the range.
The hydra exhaled. A pale green mist poured from its throats in a wide arc, rolling low across the lake and shoreline. Stone hissed where it touched. Fungal vines collapsed into blackened sludge. The water frothed, releasing a stench that burned the lungs.
"Wide," Bethany shouted. "Wide and back—"
Conor moved. The Shadowmane crossed the distance in a blur, placing himself between Bethany and the advancing mist. Acid washed over his flank in a violent cascade, eating through scale and mane alike. Steam rose from his body in choking clouds. Bethany hit the ground hard, thrown clear by the impact.
The mist passed. Conor remained standing. One side of his face sagged; scales warped and fused. The golden mane reduced to brittle curls. Smoke curled from the exposed plates. His legs trembled as he tried to reorient himself.
Regulus felt the loss register across the hive. The bond Conor had forged flickered, distorting.
The hydra surged. One central head snapped downward, jaws closing around Crispin's thigh. Teeth punched through red leather and muscle alike. Pain detonated, sharp and immediate, followed by a spreading burn as venom flooded the wound. Crispin dropped to one knee, breath tearing from his chest.
Regulus abandoned the flank. Mid-stride, his form collapsed into flowing gelatin, a rose-gold tide surging over Crispin's leg. Lifetap energy coursed through the bond, cold and electric, forcing blood back into ruined vessels and knitting torn muscle together. The toxin burned away under the surge.
Crispin stood again, teeth clenched. He drove the Shadow-Twilight spear upward, severing the first head in a spray of thick, black ichor. Dane tore into a second neck, dragging it down under his weight. Regulus surged back into lion form long enough to rip through the third, claws shearing bone.
"Fall back," Crispin shouted.
They disengaged in practiced motion, retreating to the ridge as the hydra thrashed in the shallows. Three severed stumps bubbled and churned. Regeneration had already forced new heads to emerge, faster than before. Conor did not rise. Regulus pulled back, mass tightening, attention split between the regrouping line and the quiet absence beside Bethany.
The lake steamed, and the hydra gathered itself.
Crispin planted his spear and forced his breathing steady as the hydra regrew what they had taken. Three new heads forced themselves from the ruined stumps, smaller than before but quicker. The creature no longer rushed. It learned.
The space beside Bethany remained empty. Dane moved into it, favoring one foreleg as he set his stance. Acid scoring still marred the joint beneath his warped scales. He compensated by leaning harder into his shoulders, claws biting into stone for purchase.
Regulus paced behind the line, restless. He did not advance. He tracked movement, head low, weight coiled.
The hydra struck without warning. One head surged up the ridge, jaws snapping wide. Crispin met it with the spear, deflecting the bite just enough to keep it from closing around his chest. A second head followed immediately, sweeping low and wide, forcing Dane to pivot late.
Bethany loosed. The arrow struck cleanly beneath the jaw, driving the head back into the water with a shriek. Ripples rolled outward, disturbing the lake's surface again. Another head broke from the water farther left, spitting a thin stream of acid that scored the stone and forced Bethany to leap back. Dane lunged to cover the space, but his injured leg dragged.
Regulus moved. He crossed the distance in a blur and slammed into Dane's side, physically interposing himself between the acid spray and the exposed joint. His body absorbed the worst of it. Steam hissed where it struck his scales. Regulus did not counterattack. He pressed in close, mass shifting as he stabilized Dane directly. Lifetap flowed through contact alone—focused, controlled, enough to halt the burn and seal cracked scale. Dane's leg steadied.
Crispin felt the gap immediately. A head surged toward him as Regulus stayed back. Jaws closed around Crispin's shoulder, teeth scraping armor and skin alike. Pain flared hot and immediate. He tore free and staggered back.
Regulus turned. Too far.
Crispin braced himself, blood slicking his fingers as he kept his footing. The hydra pressed, sensing weakness, heads weaving tighter now.
Bethany saw it. She did not shout. She moved. Ashara dove, flame marking the chest again, widening the earlier wound. Bethany fired into the opening without pause, arrows threading between snapping jaws and sinking deep into lung and muscle. She fired again. And again.
The hydra recoiled, thrashing in the shallows. Regulus reached Crispin at last, pressing in close. Lifetap surged through contact, stabilizing the wound, forcing blood back where it belonged. It hurt. It held.
Regulus pulled away immediately. He did not have the mass to linger.
The hydra surfaced fully, all heads rearing, preparing another wide spray. Crispin forced himself upright and raised the spear one last time.
"Bethany," he said.
She was already drawing. Ashara screamed and plunged, fire driving the heads back toward the exposed cavity. Bethany waited until the moment the hydra inhaled. She released.
The arrow flew true, slipping past flailing necks and vanishing into the marked heart. A second followed an instant later, then a third. The hydra convulsed. All five heads reared back in a discordant wail before the body collapsed into the lake with a sound like stone breaking water.
Silence followed. Steam rose from the surface. Regulus remained where he was, chest heaving. He did not approach the corpse.
Bethany lowered her bow slowly. Her gaze went once more to the empty space at her side. She knelt and pressed her palm to the stone where Conor had fallen.
Regulus watched. He stood over the severed heads, his mass beginning to churn. He began the Sovereign Assimilation, the quicksilver-red gelatin flowing over the massive beast.
When Regulus rose again, his scales bore the iridescent, multi-layered toughness of the adult hydra. He stood taller, a hybrid of the Shadowmane's power and the hydra's ancient resilience.
LEVEL: 5 (Crispin)
[10→1110 / 1200]
LEVEL 6→7 (Regulus)
[652→710 / 1600]
MAS: 12 KG→ 21 KG | COH: 93 → 101 | ASC: 29 → 43
PRC: 61 → 77 | SPL: 12 → 23 | SPD: 32 → 49Buds: 6→10
New Trait Unlocked: Broodfather–Allows for the partial or full merging of multiple assimilated blueprints for bud offspring.
Crispin rested his hand on the new, iridescent mane of his Sovereign.