And more importantly, I wouldn’t just know. I could act.

If a specific color appeared, I’d be able to identify exactly who it belonged to, track it instantly, and move without hesitation. Whether it was a single individual or a group assigned to the same signal, I could respond the moment it happened.

It also made coordinated missions far more viable.

If we split into teams, I wouldn’t be operating blindly anymore. Any sign of trouble, any sudden escalation—I’d have a direct line to it.

And with my abilities, with my ability to teleport, that difference was massive.

The others, even if they saw the signal, would still have to move physically, and by the time they got there, the situation could already be over.

But me?

I wouldn’t have that limitation. I could be there in an instant, no delay, no distance to cover, no wasted movement—just a thought, and I’d already be where I needed to be.

I looked back at Narg, the value of what he had just brought sinking in deeper.

"This is really useful, Narg," I said, my voice more grounded now. "You don’t know how much this means to me."

"I’m glad you like it," Narg said, a hint of pride slipping into his tone as he leaned back slightly, then cast a glance at the others—one that clearly said try to top that without him needing to voice it.

Other than Flogga, who looked proud, the rest frowned slightly at the challenge.

There was something else on my mind, though.

"Now," I said, shifting my attention back to him, "I’m not going to ask how you made this."

He straightened a little at that.

"But I am going to ask what you were doing in the cave when I appeared."

While I was almost out of mana and about to be attacked, I focused on my mark on Narg and used [Leap], appearing where he was, and saw that he was performing some sort of ritual in the cave.

I wanted to know what it was.

There was a brief pause before he responded.

"Oh... I was attempting to commune with Lord Drugar."

"I beg your pardon?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. "And why would you do that?"

"For blessings," Narg replied, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression now, like he was starting to question whether he had misstepped. "He can grant them... and I believe they could help us moving forward. But I’ve been having trouble establishing a connection."

"That makes sense," Flogga added, her tone calm, as if this were a known path. "If he hears us—if we please him enough—he can bless the land, grant stronger evolutions, even bestow power that could rival other clans. Lord Drugar’s blessings are important."

"Praise Lord Drugar!" Bundi said immediately, his voice carrying a kind of excitement that didn’t sit well with me.

It didn’t just feel unnecessary.

It felt dangerous.

"No... no," I said, shaking my head as I cut through it. "We are not contacting Lord Drugar."

The room quieted.

"Not him or any gods, for that matter," I said, my tone firm enough that the room fell silent almost immediately.

"And why is that?" Flogga asked.

Unlike the others, she didn’t hesitate. No caution, no second-guessing—just a direct question.

"To put it simply..."

I stopped.

The real answer sat right there, pressing against the back of my mind.

I couldn’t tell them.

I couldn’t say that if Drugar ever became fully aware of what I was—if he realized I wasn’t something that should exist within his system—then there was a very real chance he’d try to erase me.

It had already happened once.

When I consecrated the graveyard, his avatar appeared, and the moment it understood what I was, it moved to kill me without hesitation. The only reason I was still standing was because something else had interfered—something I didn’t understand—wiping that avatar out before the information could reach whatever lay beyond it.

But that wasn’t something I could rely on happening again.

If Narg managed to reach him properly... if another avatar appeared... if it saw through me the same way the last one did—

There was no guarantee I’d survive it.

No...that wasn’t a risk I could take.

And it definitely wasn’t something I could explain to them.

So I buried it.

"I don’t believe in their usefulness," I said instead.

It wasn’t the real reason.

But it wasn’t completely a lie either.

Flogga gasped at my remark, and the reaction spread through the room almost immediately, a ripple of surprise that settled into uneasy silence.

All of them looked taken aback.

Except Gork, who, like me, didn’t seem to understand the weight of what I had just said.

"But..." Narg started, ready to push back, but I raised a hand before he could finish.

"No," I said, firm enough to cut it off cleanly. "We won’t be involving any gods in this."

He held my gaze for a moment, weighing it, then lowered his head slightly.

"If that is your will, Chief."

And just like that, the room went still.

No one spoke.

The earlier momentum we had built—the planning, the direction—it stalled, replaced by a tension that lingered without anyone addressing it.

I considered ending the meeting right there, dismissing them to clear the air before it turned into something worse.

But before I could open my mouth to speak, the door slammed open.

Every head turned at once, the sound cutting through the room with enough force to snap everyone out of their thoughts.

Standing at the entrance was the ember fox, Ariel

Of course it was.

Who else would barge in like that without a second thought?

"What is the meaning of this, fox?" Narg asked, his tone sharpening immediately.

Ariel didn’t react to it.

She didn’t even acknowledge the hostility. Instead, she shrugged slightly, as if the situation didn’t concern her at all.

"A group of strange goblins is heading this way," she said, her voice casual, almost detached. "I don’t know where they’re from, but I heard the name of their leader."

She paused briefly.

"I think it was... Caius, or something. Do whatever you want with that information."

Something in me went cold as soon as I heard the name Caius, and I froze where I sat.

What?!!