Ch. 20 - Time Is Running Out

Peering through a crack in his door, Robb saw a familiar figure stumbling past.

Andrew, another Initiate who had arrived at the Black Mist Forest in the same batch.

The boy from the merchant family always carried a perpetually anxious air about him.

Right now he was clutching an armload of books, rushing in a panic toward the library.

"Another one trying to find a breakthrough at the last minute..."

Robb shook his head silently.

This kind of thing had been happening more and more frequently.

As the evaluation deadline loomed, those Initiates who still weren't confident of passing were either going astray like Locke and Emily, or desperately cramming like Andrew.

But whichever path they chose, the outcome was rarely a happy one.

"Steady progress is the only way."

Robb looked at the alertness draught in his hand, steeling his resolve.

Granted, his current pace wasn't exceptionally fast compared to those geniuses with higher-magnitude aptitudes. But his growth trajectory had only just begun.

On this path, every step was solid, every bit of progress visible and tangible, and the pace would only accelerate, until eventually he'd leave everyone else in the dust.

With that thought, he sat back down on his bed, ready to continue the day's training.

Time was precious. He couldn't waste the effects of this alertness draught.

...

Robb had just finished his meditation session and was still resting when laughter and chatter drifted in from the corridor.

"...That necklace is gorgeous. It must have been expensive?" A woman's voice carried through the door.

"Oh, it was a gift from my master. Speaking of which, do you know what Lord Marcus has been researching lately..."

He cracked his door open a sliver and peered out silently. In the distance, he could see several apprentice servants chatting, different ones from last time, by the sound of it.

But their carefully curated outfits and jewelry made it clear their status was well above that of ordinary servants.

"Sigh, not everyone gets that kind of luck."

One voice carried a note of envy. "I heard that new guy, the one who 'broke through' just last month, apparently used some special connections too."

"Shh, keep it down. But seriously, I heard the same thing. Supposedly it only took three days..."

"Really? I thought he got his from the black market..."

"Don't get too specific about this stuff. But I did hear a few new merchants showed up recently, specializing in purchasing rare materials."

The tone was casual, as if it were idle gossip, yet every sentence was laced with suggestion.

Robb noticed that behind several closed doors, faint lamplight glowed.

The Initiates still agonizing over their breakthroughs were clearly listening.

"Hey, what was his name again, that guy who went to the black market dealers the other day?"

One of the servants suddenly lowered her voice. "I heard that..."

"Stop, stop, we really shouldn't be discussing this."

Another quickly cut in. "But honestly, those merchants do have some impressive goods."

"Right, right. I heard the effects are incredibly fast. My master said that as long as you get the dosage and timing right, especially when..."

Listening to the servants' conversation, Robb suddenly recalled something. Just yesterday, stepping out of the herb shop, he'd noticed several elaborately dressed female servants lingering at various intersections throughout the market.

Their gazes had carried a hint of scrutiny. In hindsight, they'd probably been scouting for potential "targets."

These servants had clearly been specifically trained.

They always chose crowded locations to loudly discuss those "special channels." They were invariably attractive women, more eye-catching and natural-sounding when they spoke.

Every detail was carefully orchestrated, all designed to make those desperate Initiates believe they were hearing "reliable information."

"These tactics are really something..." Robb sighed quietly.

Growing up in his father, Count Stark's castle, had made him all too familiar with this kind of manipulative information steering.

Back then, subordinates looking to curry favor with his father would routinely plant self-serving rumors at strategic moments.

But in the Black Mist Forest, the consequences of such manipulation were far more severe.

Here, a wrong decision didn't just mean a fall in status, it could directly threaten your life.

The servants continued their languid conversation as they drifted away.

But those seemingly innocuous "tidbits" had already landed like sparks on dry tinder, smoldering quietly through the dormitory.

"How insidious." Robb shook his head with a cold smile.

The "three-day breakthrough" example they'd cited was none other than Locke, who had already mutated.

But in their telling, the horrific aftermath was deliberately omitted. Only the potion's effectiveness was emphasized.

For Initiates with no way out, this was nothing short of a fatal temptation.

"Three months is just too short for some people..."

He gazed out the window at the gradually darkening sky and sighed inwardly.

As time marched on, those who saw no hope would inevitably grow more and more desperate.

And the spread of these "messages" was pouring oil on the fire.

In just a few short days, several Initiates had already taken the plunge.

Locke and Emily were only the beginning. More would surely follow down this path of no return.

Who was behind those rumor-spreading servants? Who were the black market merchants connected to? None of this was hard to guess.

In this world of survival of the fittest, the weak were always the hunted.

Whether they ended up as test subjects or someone's servants, for certain people it was all just a game of harvest.

"I need to get stronger, fast. I refuse to keep being manipulated like this..." Robb took a deep breath and reset his mindset.

He shut his door firmly and sat back down on the edge of his bed.

Though the chatter outside had faded, the deliberately planted "information" had already left ripples across the dormitory.

He could hear pacing from Dagon's room next door. Even his neighbor, normally absorbed in sonic magic experiments to the exclusion of all else, had apparently been unsettled by what he'd overheard.

Dagon rarely paid attention to the outside world, but now even he couldn't sit still.

"Time really is running out..."

A sense of urgency stirred in Robb's own heart as well.

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