Reawakening: I Can Absorb Infinite Skills - Chapter 100: A Slow Hunt

Chapter 100: Chapter 100: A Slow Hunt

The morning arrived faster than any of them wished, announced not by sunlight but by a heavy knock against the door. Arden was the first to stir, rubbing his eyes as the guard’s voice carried through.

“The Lord of Greyhold requests your presence in the hall.”

Nyra groaned and buried her face in the blanket. “So early?”

Arden smirked. “You’re nobility now. Get used to early summons.”

Zephyra stretched beside the bed, her wings brushing the wooden floor as her low growl rumbled like a yawn. “Humans… never rest long enough after victory.”

Rael chuckled, already pulling on his boots. “Better than wasting the day. Let’s go before Nyra bites someone.”

A few minutes later, they followed the guard through the streets, past citizens still tidying stalls and sweeping the dust of yesterday’s battle.

Greyhold was alive again, though scarred. Their steps led them straight into the castle’s central hall where the Lord of Greyhold sat alone.

His presence filled the room, but his expression was calmer than the stern command he had worn during the battle.

They bowed politely, though Arden kept it casual with a short nod.

“My apologies for the hour,” the lord began, voice even, “but I did not wish to delay this matter.”

Arden folded his arms. “After last night, I’d say you’ve earned the right to wake us whenever you like.”

A faint smile passed across the lord’s face before fading back into seriousness. “First, you have my gratitude once more. Greyhold stands because of your party’s courage. Yet I must be honest. What you did will not go unnoticed. The organization will not forget, nor forgive. You struck a blow to their plans, one larger than you may realize. They will come for you. And they may come again for Greyhold.”

Nyra’s face tightened, but Arden leaned forward, voice steady. “That was always expected. Let them come. I’d rather they chase me than hound helpless people.”

The lord nodded, his gaze heavy. “And that is why I must ask for your aid. My men search for what roots remain of the creed, but they hide deep. You, however, have ways… I cannot demand to know your secrets, but I can ask this: help me tear out the last of their presence.”

Arden exchanged a look with his party. Rael gave the smallest shrug, Nyra’s eyes already sharp with resolve, and Zephyra’s tail flicked as she released a low growl of approval. Arden gave the answer.

“We’ll help. But we’ll do it our way.”

That was enough for the lord. He dismissed them with gratitude and a warning to tread carefully. The streets were no longer empty, he said, but they were not entirely safe.

The party stepped out into a bustling Greyhold. Stalls that had been shuttered the day before were now open again, colors bright beneath the sun. Some buildings still bore scars of fire and stone, yet laughter returned to the streets. Merchants pulled goods from storage, children darted between legs pretending to duel with sticks, and travelers wandered freely, gossiping about the battle they had missed.

Arden slowed his pace, hands clasped behind his head. “Looks alive again, doesn’t it?”

“It feels different,” Rael said, scanning the crowd. “Like people are finally breathing.”

Nyra smirked at a group of kids who were pretending to cast spells at one another. “They’re already telling stories. Look at that’ Lord Arden the Reckless,’ battling hybrids.”

“Reckless fits,” she added under her breath.

Arden laughed, nudging her shoulder. “Reckless, maybe. But effective.”

Zephyra padded beside him, her feathers bristling slightly. “Yet the shadows remain. Intentions carry scent… some of these smiles hide fangs.”

Arden’s eyes flicked toward a man too stiff in posture, watching them with a little too much interest. He said nothing, only pulled a piece of flatbread from a vendor and tore it in half. “Let’s eat. Walk slow. We’ll find them.”

They spent the morning weaving through the city, pausing at stalls and sampling food. Rael carried meat skewers, Nyra collected sweets with barely concealed delight, and Arden bought roasted nuts, tossing some into Zephyra’s waiting mouth. To the common eye they looked like carefree adventurers enjoying their fame, yet beneath their smiles they were fishing.

It didn’t take long.

Near a wine stall, Nyra leaned closer, whispering. “Two men on the left. They’ve been following since the square. Don’t look at once.”

Arden pretended to laugh at something Rael said, his eyes sliding toward the pair. Both carried blades under their cloaks, but it was the faint hostility that gave them away, their steps always adjusting to match, their stares too sharp for ordinary curiosity.

“Too obvious,” Arden murmured. “Let’s keep playing.”

They wandered into a busier street, pausing by a smithy where hammers rang against iron.

When the men drew closer, Arden stretched, then turned suddenly down a narrow lane. His party followed without hesitation.

The men rushed in after them.

By the time they realized it was empty, Rael was already behind them, his fist pressed against one throat. Nyra’s frost spear gleamed at the other. Arden stood calmly at the end of the lane, tossing a nut in the air.

“Not very good at hiding your intent, are you?” he said. “Tell me who sent you.”

One man spat. “We’ll never—”

But Zephyra’s growl rolled like thunder. Both men froze. Arden’s smile faded as he stepped closer.

“Let me remind you. You’re alive because I asked, not because you’re strong. Talk, or I’ll let her do the asking.”

The fear broke them quickly. They stammered about their orders, fragments of creed ties still embedded within Greyhold, names of their contacts. When Arden was satisfied, he gave a nod.

“Nyra, Rael. Do it cleanly.”

The alley was silent after. The party slipped back into the street, blending once more into the flow of life.

The day carried on like that, their hunt slow and deliberate. They laughed with vendors, let children tug at Zephyra’s feathers, and shared food on the steps of a fountain, all while drawing out the creed’s remnants.

Some foes revealed themselves through rash glares, others through whispered exchanges when they thought no one was listening.

Each time, Arden’s group teased them out, investigated swiftly, and only struck when proof was clear.

At one point, Arden leaned against a stall, biting into fruit as Nyra returned from a short trail with blood still fresh on her sleeves.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” she accused.

Arden grinned. “I told you. Slow and steady. Why rush when the rats crawl to us?”

Rael shook his head, though his smile betrayed his agreement. “Feels strange… laughing in the sun while pulling creed roots one by one.”

“Feels right,” Arden answered simply. “For once, we’re not the hunted.”

A/N:

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by AiKurou