Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 80: Commissary

Silently traversing the Halls, Ren, who'd polymorphed, sat on top of Altair's head without a sound, brooding. Things between the two had gotten awkward with recent events. And neither of them dared to bring it up. Going so far as to promise the other not to speak of their darkest moments.

Raina was not ignorant of the biology of the chromosomes between man and woman. And changes that they experienced as they aged. Within her books, there were many diagrams of men and women, but as Ren recalled that thing Altair carried, she shivered.

'How does he walk right?' she thought.

Similarly, the Prince's mind was drowned by the skin-tight image of Ren soaked in sweat. To her round, perky breasts and curvy hips that trailed down to her—

He gulped, feeling his lower half tightening hard against the lining of his uniform. It burned, but he dared not show it. From the moment Altair had stepped out of his bed chambers. He'd been startled by the system's new features.

[Due to Privacy Concerns at 2200 hours (10 pm), Privacy Mode has been activated.]

He had never been so grateful that no one knew of his shameful past.

"Hey, Art. How are you feeling?" Ren curiously asked, pulling the boy from his thoughts.

"A lot better." The Prince truthfully said, allowing the system status page to fill his eyes.

Name: Altair (Snow)

Mana Circle:[Second Circle 65.6% ? 99.82% ]

Physique: Zero Stars (Imperfection)

Class: Young Prince Lv 14 [First Awakening]

Strength: 13 ?23

Read today at mvl _emp _y,r.

Dexterity: 15 ?25

Constitution: 21 ?31

Wisdom: 23 ?33

Charisma:  23 ? 33

Mana:18

Skills: Fallen Necromancy [D], Dark Moon Blade [D], Circle of Gluttony [F], Infernal Bane [D], Superior Instincts [D], Grave of Night [D], Eye of Sacrilege [C], Mana Manipulation [D], Rune Maker, Enigmatic Step [E], Dimensional Rift(F), Soul of the Indomitable (F), Vale Manipulation[F], Ninth Form, Aeron[F],

Soul of the Indomitable (F)

Type: Psionic

Description: Hones the soul of those who seek the Path of Paragon.

Ninth Form, Aeron (F)

Type: Psionic

Description: Sword of Eternal Madness

Fallen Moon Imperfection

Type: Vale Physique

Effect 1: Almighty Resistance (partial Sealed)

Effect 2: Sealed

Effect 3: Sealed

Effect 4: Sealed

Effect 5: Sealed

Effect 6: Sealed

Effect 7: Sealed

Effect 8: Sealed

Effect 9: Sealed

"I'm nearly done forming my second Circle. Although what worries me a little is my physique." Altair said. "Despite eating half the Chimera Heartstone. Nothing much has changed, aside from not feeling sluggish anymore."

"Well. It took nearly three months for you to regain muscle mass. The damage caused by gaining your physique might have vanished, but we still need to be wary. You fainting like that could be problematic."

Proceeding up a few flights of stairs, lined with armed soldiers coming and going, Altair figured he entered the commissary facility on the fifth floor, noting the plethora of off-duty soldiers shopping for clothes.

From various hoodies, shirts, trousers, dresses, and garments to a dozen various mini restaurants, Altair felt as if he'd stepped into a mall. The air was electrifying, filled with a delectable scent he was quick to fall for.

"Art! Art! Art!" Ren shouted, garnering a few odd stars his way as Ren's small wet nose pointed to a freshly made pretzel dressed with large flecks of salt. Her tiny paw pointed to the pretzel.

"Shhh! Ren!' Altair panicked, clamping her mouth shut, "You're not supposed to talk!"

"It's quite alright, young man." A fox-eared woman dressed in the imperial army uniform, preparing the Pretzels, said, noticing his distress, "While it's rare. We've all seen animals capable of basic." She explained. "It just proves she's intelligent."

"Hehe, Ren is intelligent. Hear that, Art! You dummy! Praise Ren!" The little Nephilm cheered, raising her paw in protest to his abuse.

A little shocked, before Altair could continue. The fox-eared woman spoke up: "Your Altair, right? I'm Warrant Officer Maya Telvac." She saluted, noticing the stripes on his chest. "The rumors did not do you justice."

Altair was still a little taken back at the news of Ren not needing to hide as much. His ears perked up. "Rumors? About me?"

"Goodness! Oh yes! Everyone is saying you were strikingly handsome. My Lord, are you a descendent of a God of Beauty? You must be!" Maya determined, with a twinkle in her eye. "Your nearly six feet."

"I am?"  Unaware of how much he'd grown these past few months, Altair looked up to Ren. "Have I really grown that much taller?"

Maya giggled, narrowing her eyes. She plucked a pretzel from her stall, undoing the top two buttons of her uniform in one swift move, "Here. For free." She said, smiling, showcasing her bosom.

Altair once more felt the heat rise within his trousers when the luscious image of the erotic sight of a wet skin Ren popped into his mind. The fire in his heart blazed, ready to explode, when a cool sensation suddenly pooled through his mind. He pulled himself together, accepting the gift before parting ways.

[Soul of the Indomitable (F) Proficiency has increased by 2%]

[Proficiency: 0 ? 4%]

"Here you go," Altair said, handing Ren the Pretzel, unsure how she'd eat it in her current form.

Ren hugged it as if it were her entire world and took such a large bite her eyes twinkled with stars, from the salty crunch of the salted flecks to the smoky flavor of the lightly sweetened dough that carried a warm center. Reina moaned. "Dear Lord… Earth is Heaven, isn't it? Art! You got to try this!" she exclaimed, rolling around his head with the pretzel.

Altair laughed at her silly antics. He had always found her attitude towards food fascinating. They were similar to when she ate her concoctions. At times, she'd jump around like a bunny or roll around like a pig in shit, brooding, or, more often than not, hug and lick his cheek when something good happened.

"Here!" Ren, who had broken off a small piece, hopped to his shoulder to feed him. "Good, right? Let's try something else!"

Enjoying the bits Ren gave him, Altair nodded when he suddenly recalled their purpose. "No… We got to buy clothes. I've only seven hundred Sols to my name. And we need money for your alchemy resources, weapons, and so on." He said, but not convincingly.

Ren gave a cute whimper and leaped back on his head. "I had forgotten about that. Sorry."

"Well… Maybe a few sweets. You ever had a cupcake?" He said, caving as his eyes swayed to various temptations around him. "But after we buy you some clothes."

Ren hopped with joy as the onlookers pointed and laughed. But she didn't care. Not today.

Watching the duo laughing amongst each other near the southern exit, Fat Mike, a man with a fest of meat well over eight hundred pounds that rolled to his knees, frowned. "Is that him?" He asked as the image of a shadow loomed within his pupils.

"Yeah. Altair… No surname. He looks older, but yeah, that's him." the voice said in his ears, calm and without feeling. "He has a bounty of Ten Thousand Sols."

Fat Mike whistled and leaned on a nearby stall. "Quite a penny, eh? Who's the source? House Aros?"

"Anonymous."

"Tsk."

"It'll take me a few months to figure it out. But it doesn't seem like House Aros. They wouldn't do something so public. It would be too shameful." The voice said with thought as static traced through the call. "There a high chance an opposing family placed the bounty to make the Aros's look back."

'A fine scheme.' Fat Mike laughed. "Well, get on it. I'll see to the boy."

"Huh? What are you going to—"

Mike cut the call and lifted his body with such effort that sweat gathered at his brow. Slowly, his feet began to hover from the ground, pulling him towards his Target.

"You there, Ensign. Yes, you." Fat Mike called, bearing down to the boy, whose past and future seemed to mystify him. For nearly a month, he'd looked into Altair, trying to find pictures of him and his supposed God Mother. But aside from his image, he found nothing on Tenebrae. Not so much as even a record or picture of her existence.

And yet House Aros claimed she was one of their many lawyers. Records proved so… But a name without a face was a ghost.

"Yes?" Altair hesitantly said, counting his many chins and rolls that tumble below the knee and arms so wide they appeared like trees.

"Are you aware there is a bounty on your head? A Ten Thousand Sols." Fat Mike said with a measuring stare.

"Oh… that's nice," Altair said smiling, holding onto a few bags Ren had picked out for herself and him.

"It's nice?!" Fat Mike mused, rumbling with laughter that drew the attention of many as his fat danced, swaying back and forth. "Surely there is fear to be had."

"Not really," Altair replied with a sudden coldness. "It just means some idiot will be handing me exp."

"And what can a boy of Twelve do? One who has yet to even receive their second class?" Fat miked looked him over, slowly allowing himself to land.

The Prince shrugged. "Guess we'll see."

Fat Mike smirked and offered him a hand. "The Name is Captain Jorna Mike, but everyone calls me Fat Mike."