Elaine staggered as the guard hauled her out of the tribunal chamber. The uneven stone floor scraped against her bare feet, and every step sent sharp jolts of pain up her legs. Despite the weight of exhaustion and the raw ache in her body, her mind whirled with calculations.
She had survived—barely.
The corridor twisted ahead, lit by uneven torchlight. The air smelled damp, like mildew and old iron, and the clanking of the guard's armor set a harsh, grating rhythm.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"To the guild overseer," the guard replied curtly, not bothering to look at her. "I don't know what lies you spun back there, but you're lucky to still have your head."
Elaine frowned, glancing at the Nexus interface hovering in her periphery. It had gone mostly dormant since displaying her temporary class reward. A fragment of text lingered at the corner of her vision, though:
Temporary Class: Cognivore
Ability: Extract limited knowledge from spoken language at the cost of stamina. Passive bonus: Enhanced linguistic comprehension.
She focused on the ability description, her mind snagging on its implications. If she could extract knowledge from spoken words, she could piece together the rules of this world far faster than trial and error. But at what cost?
"Guild overseer?" she ventured aloud, testing the ability. Her vision shifted subtly, like a lens snapping into focus. She noticed small details in the guard's speech: clipped vowels, an odd cadence. Words he hadn't said floated in her mind: Authority. Monitoring. Constraint. Obligation.
The fragments coalesced into something more coherent. The guild wasn't merely an organization—it was a regulatory body, perhaps militarized, perhaps political.
"Keep quiet," the guard snapped, his grip tightening.
Elaine stumbled but didn't resist. Her mind spun as she processed what she'd gleaned. If the guild oversaw her probation, it wasn't just an honor-bound group; it was a tool of the Crown. That made them dangerous.
They emerged from the keep's shadowed halls into a courtyard illuminated by twilight. Elaine squinted against the sudden shift in light. The sky above was a murky lavender, streaked with faint auroras that pulsed like living veins.
The courtyard itself bustled with activity. Armored knights polished their weapons, scribes scurried between stone buildings, and merchants haggled over crates of supplies.
It was a stark contrast to the dungeon-like interior of the keep, but Elaine's relief was short-lived. The weight of her predicament bore down on her anew.
"Stay close," the guard grunted, leading her toward a squat, windowless building at the edge of the courtyard.
A figure stood waiting outside—a tall woman clad in crimson and black robes, her sharp features framed by tightly braided silver hair. She radiated authority, her piercing green eyes locking onto Elaine as they approached.
"This is her?" the woman asked, her voice cold.
The guard nodded. "Caldara Vess. Treason suspect, probationary release."
The woman's gaze swept over Elaine, her lips curling into a faint sneer. "Pathetic," she muttered. "She looks like she couldn't brew a healing draught, let alone sabotage a garrison's supplies."
Elaine bristled but bit back a retort. She needed information, not an argument.
"I am Aria Venhold, guild overseer," the woman said briskly. "Your life now belongs to me. Any attempt to defy my orders will end in execution." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And I will ensure it is slow."
The Nexus flickered to life in Elaine's vision:
DIVERGENCE ALERT: Alliance or Opposition?
Aria Venhold—High-Level Alchemical Overseer. Known for ruthlessness and efficiency. Possible alliance requires: Subtle manipulation of shared goals. Opposition risk: Immediate termination of probation.
Elaine's heart pounded. The Nexus wasn't offering clear answers, but it was clear about one thing: Aria was both a threat and an opportunity.
"I understand," Elaine said quietly, keeping her tone neutral.
"Good." Aria straightened. "Follow me."
The interior of the guild overseer's office was just as stark as its exterior: stone walls lined with shelves of tomes and glass jars filled with strange, glowing substances. A large wooden desk dominated the room, cluttered with papers, quills, and an assortment of alchemical tools.
Aria gestured for Elaine to sit, then took a seat herself.
"Let's establish the terms of your probation," she said, her tone all business. "You will report directly to me. Your tasks will be assigned daily and will range from mundane labor to fieldwork, depending on your competence. Fail me, and you'll be sent back to the tribunal. Understood?"
Elaine nodded, her mind racing. Tasks meant opportunities—opportunities to gather information, resources, and maybe even allies.
Aria's gaze sharpened. "Your first task begins tomorrow. You will assist in the preparation of an experimental potion for the northern expeditionary force."
Elaine's breath caught. She had no idea how alchemy worked in this world, let alone how to prepare potions.
"And don't think about lying your way through this," Aria added, as if reading her thoughts. "You'll be tested. Thoroughly."
The Nexus interface shimmered again, displaying a brief notification:
SUB-OBJECTIVE: Master Basic Alchemical Techniques Within 24 Hours.
Failure Consequence: Nexus Instability.
Elaine suppressed a groan. This system seemed hell-bent on throwing her into impossible scenarios.
"Dismissed," Aria said, waving her hand. "You'll be escorted to your quarters. I suggest you use the time wisely."
Elaine stood, her legs shaky but her resolve firm. If she was going to survive, she would need to adapt—and fast.