Emisarry Of Time And Space-Chapter 196 - 197: Info.
That mattered more.
He activated Protocol and Reflection simultaneously.
The world fell away.
The fight replayed in his mind with brutal clarity. Not as memory, but as data. Every frame
slowed, isolated, dissected. Every Aether Step, every Nova Spark, every micro-adjustment of
space. He saw the moments where his reactions had been optimal—and the moments where
they hadn't.
He analyzed angles.
Timing.
Mana expenditure.
The point where he'd assumed the core was singular. The moment that assumption had cost
him time. The hesitation—brief, but present—when the aura had surged instead of dissipating.
He rewound again.
The cave.
The way the monster had manipulated its body.
Mass. Structure. Conversion.
He focused on the conversion again. The realization that the core hadn't been a command
center but a function. A processor. A node in a larger system. He'd adapted fast, but not fast
enough to prevent the escalation that followed.
He noted it.
Filed it.
Corrected it.
If he encountered something similar again, he wouldn't repeat the same path. He'd identify the
system first. Strip it layer by layer. Cut supply before striking function.
Reflection peeled deeper.
He examined himself this time.
His reliance on the Seer.
Necessary, but costly.
Protocol had minimized the drain, but not eliminated it. Seeing the future—even in
fragments—was never cheap. His reserves dipping to sixty percent was proof enough.
That too was unacceptable.
He needed better balance.
Better restraint.
Better sequencing.
Minutes passed. Maybe longer.
No one disturbed him.
They knew better.
When Orion finally opened his eyes, the first thing he registered was Daenys leaning forward,
eyes practically glowing.
"So," she started immediately, barely containing herself, "how strong was it really?"
He exhaled once, then chuckled quietly.
"That depends on what you compare it to."
That only encouraged her.
She fired questions at him one after another—about its speed, its regeneration, the way it
fought, whether it had patterns, whether it felt smarter than normal monsters, whether it could
have beaten a group instead of him alone.
Orion answered everything.
Not vaguely.
Not dismissively.
He broke it down as clearly as he could, explaining what he'd observed, where it excelled,
where it failed, and why it had been dangerous despite lacking certain traits.
The others joined in.
Arlen asked about the cave and how Orion navigated without sight. Selene focused on the
environmental manipulation. Erevan asked about the core. Caelum wanted to know whether it
was a one-off or something systemic.
Orion answered them all.
The scout—still sitting a short distance away—remained quiet, but Orion noticed the way its
ears twitched and its gaze flicked between speakers. Wary. Curious. Processing.
When the questions finally slowed, Orion turned his attention fully to it.
Now it was time for actual work.
He had no intention of heading to their settlement today.
Not yet.
He could feel the residue of the fight clinging to him—not mana, but intent. Killing intent.
Pressure. The afterimage of violence. Walking into a settlement like that would be
irresponsible. Even if the Sylgrid weren't hostile, they would feel it.
And more importantly—
He wasn't prepared.
He needed information first.
The scout in front of him was the best source available.
Orion's approach changed subtly.
No pressure.
No intimidation.
Just precision.
He started with neutral questions.
"How many of you are there?"
The scout hesitated, then answered. "About five hundred. In our settlement."
"So there are others."
"Yes."
"How many?"
The scout shook its head. "I don't know all. Many. Similar size. Some smaller. Some larger."
"And one main settlement."
The scout's eyes flickered. "The capital."
That reaction was enough.
Orion didn't press immediately. He noted the longing there, the way the scout straightened
slightly when it spoke of it. Importance. Authority. Centralization.
He changed topics.
"What do you do? Individually."
The scout's expression dimmed.
"I mine."
That was all it said at first.
Orion waited.
"…Jade," the scout added after a moment.
That explained a lot.
"How does that work?" Orion asked, tone neutral.
The scout explained slowly. Jade mining wasn't just labor—it was survival. Jade was their
currency, their trade good, their leverage. Everything they needed came through it. Food. Tools.
Materials they couldn't produce themselves.
They mined.
They transported.
They exchanged.
Or rather—they used to.
The monster had changed that.
It had taken over one of their primary mining zones months ago. They couldn't kill it. Couldn't
drive it out. Every attempt had cost lives they couldn't afford to lose.
So they stopped mining.
Stopped trading.
Stopped sustaining themselves.
The scout didn't say it outright, but it didn't need to. Its body told the rest of the story. The thin
frame. The worn clothing. The restrained movements.
Starvation wasn't theoretical.
Orion listened without interrupting.
When the scout finished, silence settled briefly.
"So that's why you were watching," Orion said. "Waiting to see if it moved."
"Yes."
"And now?"
The scout looked up at him, something like gratitude flickering in its eyes. "Now it's gone."
Orion acknowledged that with a nod.
That likely explained the cooperation. The openness. The lack of resistance.
It didn't matter.
He would have extracted the information either way.
But gratitude made things smoother.
He continued asking.
Routes through the forest.
Territorial boundaries.
Danger zones.
Which settlements were hostile to outsiders.
Which weren't.
Which names carried weight.
Which mistakes would get someone killed without warning.
Some questions the scout could answer.
Some it couldn't.
But piece by piece, a framework formed.
Not a complete map.
But enough.
Enough to move intelligently.
When Orion finally leaned back, exhaling slowly, the picture in his mind was far clearer than it
had been hours ago.
Multiple Sylgrid settlements.
One capital.
Jade as lifeline.
A disrupted supply chain.
Internal weakness.
External pressure.
And now—outsiders had entered the equation.
Chronos outsiders.
He stood.
"Tomorrow," Orion said calmly, "we'll go to your settlement."
The scout stiffened slightly, then nodded.
"Tonight," Orion continued, "we rest. We prepare. And we don't make assumptions."
He looked at his team.
"And we don't act like conquerors."
No one argued.
Orion turned his gaze back toward the forest, mind already working ahead.
Tomorrow, they would step into Sylgrid territory properly.
And from there—
They'd take it one layer at a time.
