The Extra Wants Control

Chapter 77: Tomb

"See that?" he rasped, pointing towards the horizon with a calloused hand.

A faint, pulsating light pierced the darkness, a beacon cutting through the dense foliage. Keith followed Pete's gaze, a furrow appearing on his brow.

"Looks like some kind of magical phenomenon," he mused, adjusting his spectacles again. "But judging by the energy signature, it's definitely below Seven-Star level. Probably not a threat nor is it important."

Pete scoffed. "Threat or not, it's light. We haven't seen one of those in hours. Maybe it's a sign, a clue to the hideout's location."

Keith pondered this for a moment, then shook his head. "Doubtful, Pete. Bandits like hiding in dark, secluded spots, not places that light up the night sky like a discount disco ball. Besides, our time is better spent focusing on the task at hand."

A static hiss crackled through their communicators, followed by their employer's chilling voice. "Progress, gentlemen?"

Pete, sweat beading on his chubby neck, wiped it away with a forearm. "Sir, we've already located the hideout," he lied, his voice smooth. "Just doing some reconnaissance, gauging their numbers and strength."

"Good," the voice crackled back, laced with a dangerous edge. "Don't waste anymore time. If my son gets hurt, you both will answer for it."

The communicator clicked off, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Keith, ever the picture of composed chaos, straightened his tie and let out a nervous gulp. "Crazy bastard," he muttered.

"Crazy," Pete agreed, "but the pay is enough to buy a small city. Keep that in mind."

" And that makes this job even more suspicious. Not only did he not come personally to rescue his son. He spent an huge sum to hire us. I'm telling you Keith this job stinks." Said Pete

" What stinks is you, you pig. And I told you people like him care about appearance they won't shame themselves by targeting a bunch of bandits especially if they are below 7 stars. And about the money we are 7 star Vampires pushing 8 star and with our mission success rate we are expensive A-list mercenaries. Nothing is strange so stop talking or you'll jinx us you fat bastard." Said Keith

" If I die. I'll haunt you." Said Pete.

" How are you going to hunt a ghost.?" Asked Keith to that Pete remained silent.

Hours of aimless wandering had left Pete fuming. "Seriously, Keith, where is this damned hideout anyway?"

Keith shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "What do you mean, where? I assumed you were following some grand plan."

Pete's jaw dropped. "Plan? I was just walking! And since you didn't say anything, I figured we were headed in the right direction!"

Keith chuckled, a rare sound in the dense jungle. "Relax, Pete. Just a little joke. We're almost there, actually. Transition zone between the outer and middle regions of Siegfried. Should be there in an hour, tops."

Pete glared, then sighed. "Never joke about life and death situations again, alright? And one more thing…" he trailed off, a mischievous glint entering his eye. "Next time you 'joke', I'll be aiming for your foot."

Keith held up his hands in mock surrender. "Deal. It didn't feel right anyway. Now, let's move."

Pete scoffed, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Just wait, Aaliyah-chan," he thought, pushing through another patch of undergrowth. "Big hero Pete will be back soon, with enough money to open a B.bank account and I'll spoil you with a lot of gifts. Now, if only I could ditch this jerk for a while…"

"Almost there?" Pete grunted, his voice hoarse from hours of frustrated travel.

Keith, ever the picture of sartorial elegance even in this wilderness, adjusted his tie and peered at his watch by the dim light. "Almost," he said, his tone laced with a hint of uncertainty. "We should be entering the transition zone between the outer and middle regions of Siegfried any moment now. That's where their hideout is supposed to be."

*****************

A tense silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the excited chatter and nervous shuffling of the incoming students gathered before the shimmering forming tomb. At the edge far away from the crowd and hidden stood Elrohir, an elf whose facial features were etched with worry. His darkened eyes scanned the sea of eager faces, a frown creasing his brow.

"Not that one… not her… Also not her. And that makes 35,000," he muttered under his breath, meticulously counting the students as they passed through the shimmering gateway. Frustration gnawed at him. He'd lost the picture somewhere in the forest and couldn't go back to look for it. So he ignored it little did he know that was his first mistake.

With a defeated sigh, Elrohir rummaged through his pockets one last time, hoping against hope the worn photograph would reappear. It was a picture of the young woman, the target – the one his employer demanded be eliminated before leaving this forest. Failure meant his own daughter's life would be forfeit.

A low whistle escaped his lips. A sleek hawk swooped down from the canopy, landing gracefully on his outstretched arm. Elrohir quickly retrieved a pouch from his belt and offered the feathered predator a juicy morsel.

"Circle a wider area," he commanded, his voice firm. He spoke in a language that flowed like wind chimes, a tongue understood only by the creatures of the forest. The hawk cawed sharply, its intelligent eyes gleaming in understanding before it launched itself back into the sky, soaring high above the gathering crowd.

Elrohir watched the bird disappear into the sky, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. He needed to find her, and fast. Every passing moment felt like a hammer blow to his heart, a stark reminder of the price of failure.

With a resolute nod, Elrohir activated his magic. A surge of power rippled through him, the wind swirling around his form as he channeled the element into his aura strengthening his muscles and propelling himself with wind. He blurred into motion, vanishing into the dense forest surrounding the clearing. Time was of the essence.

He had to find the silver haired woman, eliminate her, and return before...

This was a dance with death, and Elrohir was determined not to falter. He would save his daughter, even if it meant taking a life or giving up his.

*****************

The ground trembled as a colossal stone, etched with swirling runes, settled into place with a bone-jarring thud. Below, the students gathered before the shimmering portal weren't the only ones preoccupied with the tomb's formation. Just beneath the surface, a wondrous spectacle unfolded. Glowing bricks, seemingly weightless, glided through the air, guided by unseen hands.

Runes blazed to life, carving intricate patterns into the very bedrock, each luminescent line humming with arcane energy.

"Woah, is that... a tomb?" A wide-eyed human student nudged his friend, excitement bubbling in his voice. "Imagine the legendary loot inside!"

The whispered rumors crackled through the crowd like wildfire. Tales of ancient artifacts and forgotten riches fueled their anticipation.

"Maybe the academy knew about this all along," another student chimed in, his voice laced with suspicion. "A clever way to reward our mettle!"

Dreams of luxury danced in their eyes. Visions of rare products gleaming under the opulent lights of Babel's upper floors. For these students, the tomb wasn't just a test, it was a golden ticket to a life beyond their wildest dreams.

But their fantastical reveries were shattered by a harsh reality check. A group of students, swaggered through the crowd, their faces etched with a sense of entitlement.

"Look at these peasants," one sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "This tomb belongs to us trueborn elites. Scram before things get messy. We might do something you'll regret."

A tense silence followed, broken only by the defiant squeak of a student who dared to speak up. "What is this nonsense? This isn't something exclusive!"

His righteous indignation was met with a brutal fist to the face. The student crumpled to the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the gathering.

"Did I stutter?" The bully snarled, his aura crackling with power. "This place belongs to the superior nobles. You lesser beings should be grateful for the scraps we leave behind."

"Like I said, this place is ours. Any objections?" he challenged, his eyes sweeping the crowd with an air of superiority.

But his question was met not with silence, but with defiance. An elven student, tall and graceful, stepped forward, his voice ringing clear. "I object."

A stout dwarf, his beard bristling, followed suit, raising his hand in agreement. "Me too."

From the side, a lionkin student smirked, his fangs glinting in the twilight. "Count me in." Soon, other Beastmen students stood beside him, their predatory gazes fixed on the groups.

Suddenly, the air crackled with a different kind of energy. A group of dragon students materialized amidst the crowd, their scales shimmering under the fading light. Their leader, a young dragon with an aura that crackled with raw power, spoke with a voice that boomed like distant thunder.

"You all seem to be confused. This is the Dragon Continent. Our home. Everything here belongs to us. You'll get nothing from this tomb. Now scurry along, like the insignificant insects you are."

An awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the nervous shufflings of some students. The human bully, however, wasn't ready to back down. He glared at the dragon, his face twisted in defiance.

"Enough of you arrogant lizards! You think you can just waltz in and claim everything? It's time to knock you down a peg or two!"

The dragon snorted, a puff of smoke curling from his nostrils. "Arrogant? It's not arrogance, little one, it's fact. No dragon here is ranked below 5,000. Where you insects struggle to reach. We rule.

It's that simple."

The tension in the air grew thick. The human student, fueled by rage and a distorted sense of pride, nodded towards his friends. The dwarves and beastmen, caught between the two warring factions, instinctively reached for their weapons. A single spark was all that was needed to ignite a chaotic brawl.

The air buzzed with anticipation as everyone – from the bullies to the nervous unaffiliated students– braced themselves for what was about to unfold.