Gauss stroked his chin and nodded in understanding of the situation. “In the recent past, we weren’t tolerant. Some still aren’t, but then again, you’re not common even among the undead, are you?” Gauss stated, grinning.

  “By the way, do you have trouble speaking through Harmony? Your voice was barely audible.” His eyes flicked toward a cabinet against the wall, where a circular metal device sat atop it, marked with numbers one through twelve and two hands frozen at different points.

  Before Bones could answer, Gauss waved it off. “Tell you what — meet me upstairs in ten minutes, and we… well, your golem and I… will have a proper conversation. There’s also the matter of rewards to discuss. Deal? I just need to finish my report for the mayor first.”

  Bones agreed without hesitation. Harmony turned and left the office, footsteps fading into the hall.

  True to his word, Gauss arrived upstairs exactly ten minutes later.

  Absorbed in the catalogue in his hands, Bones didn’t notice Gauss' approach until the man’s shadow fell across the page.

  “Shall we?” Gauss asked.

  Bones glanced up in surprise, then set the catalogue aside. Gauss motioned for him to follow through a side door into a quieter office, where they could speak without interruption.

  “Please, take a seat,” Gauss offered, rubbing at his eyes with tired fingers. He crossed to the desk, drew a bottle and two glasses from the lower drawer, poured out drinks, and settled into the chair opposite Bones.

  “If the other glass is meant for me, I’m afraid it would only be wasted,” Bones said, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

  “Nonsense,” Gauss shot back. “Good liquor is hard to come by in Wolford. And given your recent accomplishments, you deserve a glass — drinking or not.”

  Harmony tilted her head slightly, Bones’ voice carrying on through her.

  “I did say I failed the last mission… most likely the most important one.”

  “So you did,” Gauss agreed, “but don’t misunderstand, Bones — none of your assignments were of utmost importance, even the last. Now… Why don’t you tell me what happened? From the beginning.”

  Bones sat in silence for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts, then began recounting his recent exploits — starting with the Wolfman subjugation contract. He glossed over his encounters with other adventurers, focusing instead on his battles with the werewolves, which eventually led to the Valencia task.

  At the mention of Mathias, Gauss’ expression sobered. “Shame about Mathias…” he murmured, before urging Bones to continue.

  As the story went on, Gauss’ face shifted repeatedly — surprise, concentration, the faint furrow of thought — especially when hearing of The Growlers’ actions in the facilities and Bones’ daring escape into the fog. His eyes widened at the meeting with Caspian, then he sighed heavily.

  Bones produced a basket — a parting gift from an Ascendant — and slid it across for Gauss to inspect.

  “That whole family is so weird…” Gauss remarked, earning a wholehearted agreement from Bones.

  Finally, Bones began recounting the events of the last few days.

  “Hold that thought,” Gauss cut in as soon as he heard the names of the two templars — Joseph and Lynette. He sat back, tapping his index finger against the armrest, his expression darkening. Bones could already tell this would be a problem.

  “Is it that bad?” Bones asked.

  “Well…” Gauss exhaled, shaking his head. “I’d hoped they wouldn’t find you, that a confrontation could be avoided. But the fact they were waiting for you… they seemed determined to deal with you. Whether that turns out badly, time will tell. Still, it would’ve been better if you’d dealt with Lynette as well. The Divine Order takes the deaths of its members very seriously. They’ll likely send an inquisitor to investigate.”

  Bones’ tone dropped at that, but Gauss only waved it off.

  “No matter. They won’t send anyone immediately.”

  He downed his drink in one go, then poured himself another. He glanced at Bones, raising the bottle in silent offer, but Bones raised a hand in refusal.

  “Suit yourself,” Gauss said, leaning back and swirling the amber liquid. “It was wise to send your golem instead of coming in person. This way, your presence in Wolford won’t be noted. Stay on the outskirts for now.”

  Bones nodded after a moment’s thought. “That was already my plan.”

  Gauss returned to the matter of the mission — the one Bones claimed he had failed — and dismissed the concern with a wave. He admitted he hadn’t expected Bones to succeed, especially after hearing The Growlers were after the same target. Still, he reassured him that, despite the outcome, he would receive merits for the valuable information he had provided.

  “To think you’d come across Dwarven Sentinels… it’s been years since anyone’s laid eyes on those,” Gauss said, surprise edging his voice. He leaned back in his chair before adding, “It makes sense though. The last time they appeared, it was in the newer facilities. The older ones never had defenses like that — just the usual traps, poison fog, and other deterrents.”

  “It would’ve been nice to know that beforehand,” Bones muttered, irritation sharpening his tone.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Gauss gave a faint, apologetic shrug. “I didn’t expect you to even find the facilities, let alone run into Sentinels.”

  When the talk shifted to the research documents and the lead researcher’s journal, Gauss’s expression hardened. “Wolford will have to trade for them — and it won’t be cheap,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. He went on to explain that a report from Wolford’s spies in Serville had crossed his desk a few weeks back: the fog on the border of the Navis domain had receded, revealing facilities long hidden.

  Bones didn’t bother commenting — he’d been there himself.

  “My apologies for that,” Gauss added more quietly. “Lew knew The Growlers had mobilized, but not why. By the time the report reached me, it was too late to send support. You ended up there alone.”

  His voice cooled as he moved to the next subject. “As for The Growlers’ dealings with the vampires…” He clicked his tongue. “That will have to be reported to the Mayor. Backroom dealings with the elders are forbidden. In the past, it was difficult to keep the guilds in line — they acted as they pleased. Seems some still do. But once word spreads that The Growlers acquired those journals through the vampires… they’ll be in a difficult position.”

  “At least it gives Wolford leverage in the negotiations,” Gauss concluded, shaking his head with visible distaste.

  Bones found himself wondering what those journals contained that made them so valuable. When he asked, Gauss gave a thoughtful hum before leaning forward.

  “Our history isn’t clear,” he began. “The method that created us — the current werewolves — was never properly documented. The originals, the first werewolves, still haunt the Dark Forest.”

  Bones nodded, prompting Gauss to continue. “There are two factions: the fully transformed descendants of the originals… and us. Most live as nomads in rocky caves, underground lairs, or deep groves. But there’s a settlement in the heart of the Dark Forest, led by Prime — the oldest and strongest of their kind. He killed the previous Mayor during an extermination expedition. That was before my time…” Gauss’s voice softened briefly with nostalgia before hardening again.

  “From the records we do have, two names stand out: Dr. Ditra and his assistant, Dr. Wolfenstein. Both made progress, but slowly. They never managed to remove the originals’ curse — the inability to return to human form. What we can do now… they couldn’t.”

  He set down his glass and leaned back. “Wolfenstein returned forty years later and resumed his work. We believe he created the serum that gave rise to us — the modern werewolves. We are the product of human experimentation, designed as weapons against the vampires. The inspiration likely came from Zoolypso — from the werebeasts that dwell there. I suspect the serum itself originated on that continent.”

  Seeing Bones’ curiosity spark at the mention of werebeasts, Gauss continued.

  “They resemble half-transformed werewolves, though they take on the traits of many different animal species. Unlike us, however, they can shift fully at will — and without the bloodlust, without the aggression.” His voice lowered, weightier now. “That’s why the journals are so valuable. They might hold the key to controlling ourselves after full transformation.”

  “I thought you were in control,” Bones remarked.

  A faint, crooked smile tugged at Gauss’s lips. “To an extent. But you have no idea how thin that control is. One moment is all it takes…” He let the thought trail off, the implication hanging in the air.

  “Our transformation is both our greatest strength — and our greatest weakness.”

  Bones said nothing, recalling his encounters with werewolves. It was true: the longer a fight dragged on, the more frenzied and reckless their fully transformed state became. He gave a small nod in agreement.

  Gauss suddenly clapped his hands, shaking off the somber mood and drawing Bones out of his thoughts. His expression shifted back to business.

  “Now then. I’ve wasted enough of your time. If I recall, you were set on exchanging merits for skill cores. Veil Slip is already in your possession, and you have enough for one — possibly two more, depending on their cost. You’ve made your choice, I take it?”

  Bones couldn’t hide his excitement, nodding quickly. “I have. My main goals were Veil Slip and Manifest Bound Weapon. But while browsing the catalogue, another skill caught my eye: Chain Hook.”

  “Chain Hook?” Gauss repeated, one brow arching. He had expected Manifest Bound Weapon for Harmony, but the choice puzzled him.

  Bones anticipated the doubt. “It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. After some thought, I realized Murdok needs something to compensate for his weaknesses. Unlike Skully, who can imbue his weapon with energy much like the knightly auras, Murdok lacks finesse. He crudely charges his weapon with mana and releases it on impact. It’s powerful, but slow — too easy to avoid. During the battle with the templars, I saw how badly a gap-closing skill would’ve helped him. Instead of wasting energy chasing down opponents, Chain Hook would let him drag them into his reach. From its description, I believe Murdok would benefit from it immensely.”

  Gauss stroked his chin, listening intently. After a moment’s thought, he gave a slow nod. “Depending on the user, that skill could have a surprising number of applications. Very well. With Veil Slip, Manifest Bound Weapon, and Chain Hook, you’ll have just enough merits left for one of the cheaper cores — unless something else caught your eye?”

  Bones managed a thin smile. “I did plan for that. I want to use the leftover merits to equip my party. My reserves are gone, and after the last battles, we need proper gear.”

  Gauss’s gaze flicked toward Harmony, noting the scuffs and frayed edges in her attire. If she looked that worn, the others must have fared even worse. He gave a slow, understanding nod. “With what remains, your options will be limited. The quality won’t be high, not if you intend to outfit everyone — including yourself.”

  Bones had already expected as much. He asked for the catalogue again, scanning quickly before pointing out pieces of common-grade armor — nothing glamorous, but sturdy enough to last until Necropolis. The sheer variety of items was overwhelming: weapons, armor, trinkets, and rarities so steep they cost more than the cores themselves.

  When he finished his selection, Gauss closed his eyes briefly. Bones tilted his head, curious, until two glowing skill cores materialized in the werewolf’s hands.

  “As an administrator,” Gauss explained, noticing Bones’s look of wonder, “I can access the hall’s storage directly. The rest of your equipment will arrive shortly.” He set the cores down, then looked back at Bones. “While we wait — have you considered where you’ll go next? If not, stay in Wolford a while longer. I wouldn’t mind someone of your talents in my employ.”

  Bones hesitated. “I’m grateful for the offer. I will remain here for a short time — until my situation improves. But I must leave soon after. I have pressing matters concerning my advancement.”

  Gauss nodded, unsurprised. He had sensed Bones’s level from the start, and knew he stood on the cusp of ascending to the second tier.

  “A shame,” Gauss admitted with a faint sigh. “Still, I hope you return to us someday.”

  He rose from his seat just as a knock came at the office door. A man in formal attire entered, bowing slightly before approaching Bones with a small ring in hand. Bones accepted it, studying the unassuming band before glancing inside, then back to Gauss.

  “The ring?”

  “It’s yours, of course,” Gauss said evenly. “A low-tier storage accessory, limited in capacity. Best to transfer the contents sooner rather than later.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”