Scarlet

My wish comes true in just a few minutes when I hear a fomorian entering the floor. So I scoop the girl up into my arms before getting up carefully so as to not wake her and place her onto the nice sofa that I was using during the interview and sitting on just now, only to realize that she’s already awake.

Huh. That didn’t take much to wake her.

She looks at me with a sleepy scowl on her face that looks vaguely familiar to the one I have when waking up before the scowl turns slightly sad. But she just curls up on the sofa by herself instead of saying anything.

Guess she doesn’t want me to leave?

Sorry, but I’m not babysitting you. Got some demons to kill.

Or a demon at the moment. Not more than one.

I leave the room and head for the other side of the building, where the demon started going itself.

Let’s hope this fomorian won’t be too high a level either.

I limp my way back to the room after dealing with the level 108 fomorian while trailing blood down my leg. The demon this time wasn’t near any bunkers, so I couldn’t do what I did with the last one before it, and was instead simply wandering through a hallway. So I couldn’t really sneak up on it either.

In the end I had to resort to a brute force method of just attacking it and hoping things went well, since the thing could smell me as soon as I turned the corner and spotted it.

I grit my teeth as I drag my leg, my pant leg having already repaired itself thanks to it being made from magi-tech armor. But the wound underneath that cut halfway across my thigh isn’t healed and is kind of just soaking my pant leg.

Not exactly pleasant, but there isn’t much I can do about it but wait for it to heal. Not unless I wanted to waste mana constantly using clean. Which is an inefficient use of mana. Especially in this situation.

Despite the pain, I can’t help but smile as I walk through the hall. Because that battle gave me another two levels.

“You’re probably going to be getting another inherent skill at level 75,” Tar suddenly says, making my smile grow even wider.

Now that is something I can definitely get behind!

I start humming the old lullaby Cynthia would sing for me as I walk, using the wall as a bit of a crutch.

If I didn’t know any better, then I’d say I’m starting to grow much more used to pain. Is that a bad thing?

“No,” Tar answers without any hesitation. “Although part of the reason you’re not collapsed right now from pain like a normal human probably would be is because your body still has a few defects from your demon side having been sealed away for so long. Like your sense of pain being a little messed up.”

Ah. Right. That.

“It’s not really a problem though,” Tar continues, making me raise a brow as I start nearing the broadcast set room again. “Your regeneration will only improve, and you can still feel the pain enough to know something’s wrong. So I would honestly think of that little defect as a bonus in a way.”

Yeah, guess that’s true. Well, outside of the fact that it’s not just my pain that is dulled.

“Oh, right,” Tar mutters as I enter the set room again to find the girl immediately sitting up at my entry. Her eyes then go straight to my leg when she notices me limping before her lips twitch ever so slightly downwards in sadness.

It’s cute that she cares about me already.

“Well, you’re the only adult around right now in the middle of a Class II Fracture,” he says, stating the obvious. “And no matter how odd she may be, she’s still only around nine or ten years old by the looks of it.” He pauses as I close the door before beginning to walk over to her again, only to add, “Also, look at her with your magic sense.”

I frown at that, stopping in place for a second. Then I do just what he says to find a rather large surprise.

“You’re a Guardian?” I exclaim, so taken aback by the information that I accidentally state it out loud instead of just in my head. But the girl just nods her head without a word.

The fuck? How? Why? Why would a fae choose a nine or ten year old child as a Guardian?!

“I can’t tell you what the fae was thinking as that would be a breach of privacy,” Tar says before adding, “I can tell you that the only times a fae ever contracts with a child younger than thirteen is if that child is a powerful legacy. The child of a Class V that has at least one etched skill, most of the time more.”

Oh. So her mother or father is a Class V Guardian then?

I’m a little surprised that the news isn’t all over her considering her age. But then again, the news tends to only focus on those Guardians who are often in the limelight, fighting in Fractures on a regular basis. And considering how weak her mana signature is, she’s probably only somewhere between level 3 to level 7ish.

“Well, she’s at a news station,” Tar comments as I continue walking over to her.

Oh. Right. Guess I just never bothered to look into possible child Guardians?

“You don’t exactly look into the news much at all, unless you’re looking at and getting embarrassed by videos of yourself,” Tar mutters, making my eyes narrow a little.

Hey! I also look into other Guardians who I might need to know about!

He doesn’t say anything in response. So I just huff before sitting next to the girl on the sofa, just for her to then hug my arm and lean up against me, fortunately not sitting on my lap this time.

At least I can be absolutely sure she isn’t a Changeling with this news. Because a changeling can’t copy an etched skill. Or any skills, for that matter. Just that the etched skills serve as proof of identity for those born to a Class V Guardian who has one. Assuming the Guardian in question publicly uses those etched skills, that is. Then it’s only a proof of identity if the parent is there to prove it.

I watch her for a few seconds.

Ya know, I think I’m starting to like this kid. Or at least, more than most kids.

She’s quiet and doesn’t throw a fit. And she looks to be avoiding aggravating my injury too.

I do wonder why she is like she is though…