CHAPTER 102: THE OLD ASSASSIN'S QUARRY

High above the subterranean caverns of the dark elf clans, the freezing mountain gales howled through jagged basalt peaks, carrying the sharp, metallic stench of ozone and old blood.

Old Bones crouched on a narrow, snow-dusted ledge, his dark cloak blending effortlessly into the shadows of the crag. He rubbed his aching lower back, letting out a long, foggy sigh that froze instantly in the bitter air.

He was tired. His joints throbbed with the familiar bite of damp cold, and his daggers were notched from days of relentless slaughter.

For the past several weeks, he had been stalking the high-altitude mountain passes, hunting a brutal, territorial apex predator: the Sabre Lightning Tiger. They were notoriously vicious beasts, fast as a crack of thunder and possessing fangs that dripped with crackling, high-voltage lightning mana.

He had already tracked down and slaughtered three of the massive beasts, but every single hunt had ended in bitter disappointment.

After caving in their skulls and digging through the gore, he had found nothing. The prize he sought—the rare Beast Essence Bead embedded deep within the upper skull or fused directly to the brain—was a genetic fluke, appearing in only one out of every few dozen elder specimens.

Old Bones grunted, wiping a smear of black monster blood from his forearm. Mages usually prized those essence beads as focus catalysts for high-tier lightning staves or enchanted weaponry. But Old Bones knew someone else who collected them.

He had seen Caius harvest one twice now. The first was when Caius defeated the Arachne princess months ago in the subterranean cavern, calmly extracting the bead from her bound essence. The second time was during a death-spar Old Bones had arranged himself—he had hired a condemned dark elf criminal to go all-out against the boy, only to watch Caius kill the man and carefully pry out an ember essence bead the criminal had artificially embedded in his skull.

Nostalgic, the old assassin thought, a faint, wry smirk pulling at his scarred lips as he looked out over the sea of dark clouds below.

Months ago, he had been comfortably retired, living out his quiet days as a lazy tavern owner, content to pour cheap ale and watch the world go by. Then that foolish brat, Sereth, had marched in, dragging a pale human boy with him. It was Sereth who had casually blurted out his old nickname in front of the kid, forever sticking Caius with calling him "Old Bones."

I'm definitely going to smack that disciple of mine right across the back of his head once he's freed from the Moon Palace, Old Bones grumbled inwardly, though the faint glint in his eyes betrayed his affection for both of them.

A sharp crackle of static electricity cut through the howling wind, snapping Old Bones out of his reverie.

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His ears twitched. Down in the snow-choked ravine below, a silhouette emerged from the blizzard.

It was a Sabre Lightning Tiger—but this one was far larger than the previous three he had slain. Its fur was patterned with jagged, glowing violet stripes, and twin six-foot sabre fangs protruded from its jaws, sparking violently as they scraped against the frozen stone. The beast radiated an aura of pure, unbridled ferocity.

Old Bones narrowed his eyes, his relaxed posture instantly vanishing as his killer instinct took over.

Finally, he thought, adjusting the grip on his twin daggers. A true elder of the pride. You better have what I'm looking for.

Without a sound, Old Bones melted off the ledge, dropping straight down into the blizzard like a falling shadow.

The tiger reacted with terrifying speed. Sensing the sudden drop in air pressure above, it whipped its head up, opening its jaws wide to release a blinding bolt of concentrated lightning.

BOOM!

The electric arc detonated against the cliff face, showering the ravine in melted stone and blinding white light. Old Bones twisted mid-air, using his modified spatial steps to narrowly dodge the main blast—but the residual lightning fangs lashed out, tearing through his leather armor and scorching a deep, bleeding wound across his left side and shoulder.

Old Bones grunted through the burning pain, his feet hitting the snow. He didn't slow down.

Channeling his raw mana through his boots, he blurred forward, weaving through the beast's wild strikes. The tiger roared, swinging a massive paw that tore through the air with enough force to split a boulder, but Old Bones ducked beneath the sweep, driving his right dagger straight through the joint of its front leg.

The beast buckled, roaring in fury as it tried to snap its sabre fangs around Old Bones's neck.

Old Bones didn't give it the chance. He executed a sharp, fluid spin, driving his left blade through the tiger's throat while his right hand unleashed a concentrated burst of spatial pressure straight through its eye socket, driving the steel directly into the brain stem.

The giant beast shuddered violently, its glowing violet stripes flickering out one by one before its massive frame collapsed heavily into the blood-stained snow.

Panting heavily, Old Bones knelt beside the steaming carcass, his left hand clutching his scorched, bleeding side. He ignored the pain, unsheathing a heavy butcher's knife and carving directly into the top of the tiger's thick skull.

He carefully pried open the bone structure, digging through the brain tissue—and then, his tired eyes lit up.

Resting at the center of the brain was a smooth, crystal-clear bead, swirling with dense, crackling violet lightning energy. It thrummed with a heavy, natural mana pulse that resonated through the freezing air.

Old Bones carefully reached in, plucking the Beast Essence Bead from the skull and wiping the blood off against his sleeve. He held it up to the pale sunlight, admiring the dense, pristine energy trapped inside.

A broad, genuine grin spread across the old assassin's weary face.

"Finally," he muttered softly, sliding the precious bead into a velvet-lined pouch at his belt. "I hope that brat Caius likes this gift."

Wiping the sweat and blood from his forehead, Old Bones pulled out his skinning kit. He wasn't about to waste the rest of the beast. The pelt, the sabre fangs, and the monster's vital organs were extremely high-grade materials; back in the dark elf markets, they would fetch a handsome fortune.

As his heavy knife went to work butchering the tiger, Old Bones looked down toward the distant mountain pass leading back into the Underdark.

Three months were almost up. It was time to head home.