58th of Season of Fire, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

Third realm manabeasts that had appeared that morning outnumbered what Newt's group had had to handle the previous day. Meanwhile, he hadn't spotted a single non-awakened saurian as they got into position. The tide was rising, and depending on how high it got, it might drown the residents of the Salamandra clanhold.

But for the moment, the manageable fights against saurians were Newt's friends' problem, not his. While they fought, he completed the seal Chaplain Longfang had sketched for him.

Marvelous, Newt made the final adjustments to the completed seal and tested it by throwing a first realm raptor into the ten-yard circle. Runes glowed, and the raptor's scales slowly sank into the flesh like a balloon deflating.

The ingenious design decomposed the bodies of dead saurians by using their own mana to perform the feat. Soon the raptor was less than half of what it was. Unfortunately, the natural mana of its flesh proved insufficient, and its body failed to dissolve completely before the runes dimmed and the seal stopped working.

An auxiliary energy source drew mana from the air, but it would take time to charge enough to activate the rest of the seal. Newt let it work and grabbed a second realm raptor. He threw the carcass into the seal, which started working again, decomposing the remains of both beasts.

Not interested in watching anymore, Newt went about collecting the lighter saurians and throwing them into the decomposer, working his way up.

We'll have to chop up longnecks and trihorns. Trihorns can fit, but they are too heavy even for me to lift, and they would damage the seal if we just dragged them in. Maybe if all of us carried it in? Could work, but we would have to mind the seal's veins.

Newt looked at the sky. It was seven in the morning with not a sign of dragons.

About two hours per seal to scribe and make adjustments. That means I can set up six more today.

"Loch, could you please keep putting the corpses in? Just make sure not to damage the lines connecting the runes."

Loch nodded, and Newt went over to the nearest large concentration of corpses. From what they could see from up high, the scavengers had somewhat cleared the edge of the jungle during the night, but Newt and his comrades would have to handle the bodies closer to the clanhold and Harthrow.

And as the days passed, the concentration of corpses would increase in those areas as saurian numbers grew. Then, the group wouldn't even have a chance to clear the corpses at the jungle's edge, as the saurians pressed closer and closer to the castle.

We'll do what we can. And true to his word, Newt set up seven seals that day, not seeing a single hostile manabeast while the rest of the Explorer's Gate team cleared the saurian threat.

"How did it go today?" Newt asked Rose as they jogged back towards the castle.

"We had two fourth realm beasts, a raptor and a longclaw, both leading packs of second and third realm beasts. Gray got wounded, but I healed him."

Newt glanced back, searching for the peak third realm elite, and found him in a bloodied uniform, his pale skin and pinkish new flesh visible through three long gashes torn across his shirt.

"We'll have to fight more conservatively. The way things are going, it's only a matter of time before a fifth realm manabeast runs out of the jungle and hurts someone."

Newt could tell that "hurt" wasn't the word Rose had in mind, but death was too heavy on their minds with all they had gone through. Just speaking of it felt like an ill omen.

For the third time, Newt wanted to broach the subject of other people he knew back at the order, to ask what happened to them, but he decided against it again.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Better travel in large groups to prevent sudden injuries," he said instead.

Rose nodded, and that was the end of their conversation. Newt wanted to talk some more. He had spent weeks just running alone, fighting for survival, but the unexpected injuries had made the group more sober and unwilling to speak.

"I'll go check in with the Chaplain Longfang," Newt said when they reached the castle gate.

He got a couple of nods in return and left his guests to their own devices.

He found the scribe with a hand tracing the lines on the wall, a deep frown marring his brows.

"You think they are strange too?" Newt asked.

"Yes, these seals are extremely strange and esoteric." Chaplain Longfang said, still gazing at the rune he was tracing. "They prevent divination by the seers, mental manipulation, and this one I don't even understand. I recognize runes for destiny, sever, and shield, but I've never seen this rune."

The note of wonder and disbelief was clear, and Newt looked at the eldritch pictogram. The irregular geometry of it seemed to draw him into the carving itself, hooking its jagged lines into his soul—.

"These strange seals," Chaplain Longfang snapped Newt out of his daze, "are inserted between the more regular siege protection, and I can tell you they were done by two different people. An expert, probably a master, had made the regular seals, the ones you would expect on a fortification this close to the weald, but an amateur had engraved the others. I'm not even sure this one with destiny and the odd squiggles has ever worked. There's power behind it undoubtedly, but the concepts behind it are so obscure, I don't think I would be able to engrave them properly, and I'm a master scribe."

Chaplain Longclaw turned to face Newt, who had just learned a lot more about his clan's defenses than he had figured out on his own. And the mesmerizing rune somewhat reminded him of something terrifying, something soul-damaging.

"Are you certain you don't mind me seeing this, Newstar? These seals tell a story, one into which strangers shouldn't be privy into."

Newt smiled, hiding his nervousness.

"Lord Longfang, you are no stranger. You saved my life, and for that I am and will forever be in your debt. How is your grandson?" Newt hesitated. "Did he make it?"

"He did, but he went with his lady friend to the other front. A part of me wanted to go with them, but young people need space. Now, about these seals," the man changed the subject, and Newt respected his privacy.

"Yes? You said they tell a story?" The story the rune told Newt was one of a bloody cellar and shackled victims.

"They do, several stories, only one of which is true. One is that your ancestor was insane and paranoid; the other is that he had something he wished to hide from divination. Seers are rare, but the majority of influential families employ them. Imperials and royals certainly, majority of the dukes too." Longfang paused, showing hesitation.

"And the cultists," Newt had connected the dots, and apparently so had Chaplain Longfang. "Otherwise, the imperial seers would have already dealt with them."

"That's one theory," Longfang nodded. "And your clan was targeted by the Blood Cult once, and our order was attacked by them too. It's possible they see you as a threat, but that's jumping to conclusions by connecting possibly unrelated incidents, making a connection where there is none."

Longfang shifted his gaze back to the wall, and Newt followed it. "Perhaps, your ancestor wanted to protect himself and his descendants from the cultists, but I estimate these seals have decayed over two hundred years ago, maybe even more."

Or perhaps he was a cultist and tried to flee their clutches?

Newt buried his concerns deeply, so deeply, he could never find them. Such questions could get his entire clan executed. "And repairing these seals—"

"Would be prohibitively expensive," Chaplain Longfang interrupted before Newt could ask whether he could do it. "I'm not sure I've amassed enough wealth to scribe these seals, and just repairing them would probably bankrupt my clan."

Newt's face turned ugly. While he didn't owe the order any manarium and even had some of his own money, his wealth was a paltry sum compared to Chaplain Longfang's.

"What do you suggest my clan should do?" he asked finally.

"Nothing. I'll suggest to the gatemaster that it might be in our best interest to investigate your ancestor's background. These seals and what they imply make me uneasy. To be honest, I would prefer it if we discovered your ancestor was driven mad by his heart demons, but the odds of something like that happening to a slayer are next to none, which only makes things worse."

He definitely harbors doubts about Ancestor. Can't say I blame him.

Newt bowed. "Thank you, Chaplain Longfang. Did you discover anything else of interest?"

"Well, not really, but there are some obvious observations. This castle's construction cost enough to beggar a sixth realm valiant, and even an exemplar's pocket would suffer a great blow from such an investment, if you understand what I'm saying. And from what I understand, this isn't your ancestor's birthplace, so why invest so much wealth into a mountain at the dangerous border of the empire?"

Newt knew the answer - Magmin's core, but was an ancient legend merely an excuse for eccentricity, or was it really the reason Blaze I abandoned everything?

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