Chapter 53
In the dead of night, vin once again approached the base of Botanic Haven, where the stifled
roars that had been momentarily quelled once more stirred to life, echoing through the deep
reaches of the mystical grove. From a distance, the glimmer of gold and the churning of mist could
be seen, and the distant rumble of the earth splintering underfoot was faintly audible.
vin took a few tentative steps forward, and the roaring intensified, shaking the entirety of Botanic
Haven as if it quivered in response.
"What in the name of the ancient gods is imprisoned within?" vin grew uneasy. What manner of
beast or spirit could this be? And did it truly beckon me here to seize the Shadowbringer from my
grasp?
"It''s you again!" Mari appeared, her tone far from courteous.
"What lies within?" vin inquired.
"Ask not questions that are not yours to ask. Stand down!"
"The mighty Cobalt Strike cannot contain it? Why do you let it roar?"
"Stand down!!"
"It''s disturbing my sleep; you had the best deal with it." vin gestured towards Botanic Haven and
turned to leave.
Mari was left speechless, but as soon as vin departed, the roaring ceased abruptly.
The following morning, afterpleting his deliveries, vin found himself once again beside
Botanic Haven, hoisting a stone urn. His presence stirred the roaring anew, which, though not as
fierce, was enough to disturb the nearby mountains and rouse a thousand Protégés.
Many grew restless; previously, the unrest urred only at night. What had changed today?
After awakening Botanic Haven, vin left, and soon after, the roaring stopped, and all was quiet.
For several days, vin would visit the vicinity of Botanic Haven at irregr intervals, each visit
provoking the mysterious roar. He was sending a message: Cease your calls. I shall not enter!
Meanwhile, he prodded the Elders of the Cobalt Strike to resolve the nuisance. But to outsiders and
even many Elders, the situation was perplexing, inciting whispers of whether the force within was
truly uncontainable. Should extraordinary measures be taken?
Today, a special delegation arrived at the foot of Cobalt Strike Mountain.
Eight men and women rode upon eight magnificent ck steeds, halting before the organization''s
gates, gazing up at the towering peak upon which the mighty words "Cobalt Strike" were etched
with resilience.
"Cobalt Strike, ''tis my first journey hither," dered the young leader, resplendent in noble attire. His
regal cloak flung wide in a gesture of wild abandon. His tall figure, bronzed skin, and sharp, deep-
set features were ented by a sly grin.
"Cobalt Strike, one of the Eight Orders of the Nortnds, though unassuming, has thrived for
centuries with profound foundation," said a man to his left. His hair was silvered yet meticulously
groomed. His garments were immacte, betraying no sign of travel. His countenance was
youthful, and his demeanor seemed efficient.
"Ie for the matter of Celesse, hoping it shan''t disappoint," the young noble spurred his steed
forward.
Protégés at the main entrance took notice of the neers, moving to intercept them with a stern
cry, "Halt! Dismount! This is Cobalt Strike."
The young nobleman continued on his ck steed, which pranced proudly, showing no intention of
stopping. His entourage followed closely, their demeanor equally haughty, ignoring the admonishing
Protégés.
Just as the Cobalt Strike Protégés were about to unsheathe their swords in warning, a Senior
Protégé at the lead recognized the distinctive emblem embroidered on the visitors'' cloaks: "Lord
Viperbane?"
The youth presented a golden badge at his waist. "Inform your Commander, Marak, on behalf of
Lord Viperbane, seeks an audience."
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The old man besides him smiled faintly. "Neasilis, at your service, requesting an audience with the
Commander of Cobalt Strike."
At the Sanctum of Cobalt Strike atop the primary peak, the Commander and several Elders awaited
personally.
Lord Viperbane''s influence and strength were not inferior to Cobalt Strike, and in terms of status
and heritage, they held even greater esteem.
"Greetings, it has been too long," the man with silvered hair spoke softly, bowing to the Commander
of Cobalt Strike seated at the head of the sanctum.
The Commander''s expression was aloof, and after a brief nce at Marak, he spoke indifferently,
"Brother Neasilis, well met."
"Thanks to your concern, I fare well," Neasilis seated the young noble beside him and nodded to the
other Elders across the way, "I''ve not returned to Cobalt Strike in over a decade. My Fellow
Protégés, do you still remember me?"
A female Elder spoke tersely, "One of the Seven Champions in Lord Viperbane''s mansion, ''The
Sr Lupus'' Neasilis."
The man chuckled lightly. "I refer to my identity within Cobalt Strike."
A portly Elder sipped his water gently. "From the day you left Cobalt Strike, you ceased to be one of
us."
"Whether Cobalt Strike acknowledges me or not, I''ve always regarded it as my home, and you all as
my fellow Protégés."
"Is that so?" the portly Elder''s eyes sharpened.
"Twenty years hence, no matter where I roam, I''ve always held in my heart that I hail from Cobalt
Strike, my first true home."
"Enough." The portly Elder''s cup shattered in his hand, scalding water spilling across the table.
"When you maimed the Elders and attacked the Cobalt Strike magical ore mines, did you forget you
were one of Cobalt Strike''s own?"
"That was all over a decade ago. Didn''t I apologize afterward?"
"Your so-called apology was to send back a severed head?" The portly Elder rose abruptly, pointing
an using finger at Neasilis.