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

"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."