Gunmage-Chapter 228: Bloodlines and bargains

Jahira?!

The name rang familiar. The tall elf, standing just over six feet, stepped forward hesitantly.

Her expression was caught between discomfort and confusion, brows furrowed as if trying to recall a forgotten dream.

She was taller than Zhou, but only slightly, by perhaps two or three inches. That wasn’t what drew the attention.

Zhou stared, utterly perplexed. This girl... she was her mirror image. The resemblance was uncanny, almost unnerving. Same sharp cheekbones, same cool and aloof temperament.

The only difference was the hair: where Zhou’s was a rich auburn, Jahira’s shone a pale, almost silvery blonde.

The two women stood facing each other. Neither moved. Neither examined nor spoke. They just stared, as though speech would shatter some invisible glass between them.

But if Zhou’s gaze was sharp and analytical—like a surgeon studying a mutated animal—Jahira’s held a quieter confusion. A cautious skepticism, not yet distrust but close.

Eventually, Zhou broke the silence.

"An elf,"

She said slowly. Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it.

"So this means..."

"Yes,"

Selaphiel interjected, her tone flat, unsurprised.

"Uh,"

Jahira began, her voice hesitant.

"Nice to meet you... too?"

Zhou simply patted her on the shoulder. Her eyes didn’t leave Jahira’s face until she turned toward Selaphiel.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this all this time?"

Selaphiel replied with characteristic bluntness.

"Family rules."

"Family rules?"

Zhou repeated, incredulous.

"Yes. Family rules."

"And what rules might those be?"

Her voice was rising now, tinged with emotion she didn’t fully understand herself.

"Our composition must not be made privy to others,"

Selaphiel said, voice even, tone neutral.

At that, not just Zhou—but even Lugh—raised an eyebrow.

Selaphiel continued, unbothered.

"Which is to say, the number of living elves connected to our bloodline is confidential. I wasn’t high enough in the family hierarchy to violate that."

"And you are now?"

Zhou pressed, her voice tight. She didn’t even know what she was feeling anymore—rage, relief, confusion, longing? Her emotions were in disarray.

Selaphiel gave a weary sigh, but her eyes stayed steady.

"Not exactly,"

She admitted.

"But I have more leeway now than I used to."

Zhou turned her head slightly, gaze drifting back to Jahira. The girl was clearly uncomfortable, shoulders tense, eyes wide but trying to look composed.

Zhou studied her carefully, expression unreadable.

And then she looked away.

For a moment, it was unclear whether she was pleased, angry, or indifferent—until she finally spoke, voice low.

"Don’t think this makes us even, Selaphiel. I still haven’t forgiven you."

Selaphiel let out a theatrical sigh.

"Oh, and what must I do to gain thine forgiveness, oh great one?"

Zhou’s brow twitched at the mockery, but she didn’t answer. Not yet.

Lugh watched the scene unfold, equal parts fascinated and bewildered. From the outside, this entire situation felt disjointed—chaotic and incomprehensible.

Why was Jahira’s presence enough to ground Zhou’s usual tempest of hostility?

He could see the resemblance between the two clearly now, even in the way they held themselves. But the best he could form were guesses.

And meanwhile—Xhi hadn’t stopped staring at him, which made him incredibly uncomfortable.

Her silence was weighty, deliberate, and unsettling.

Still, hee presence brought opportunity. He could get answers to his many questions. As well as get authorisation for his next moves.

He hadn’t forgotten her title, Tongue, the bearer of its Will. He intended to manipulate that position fully to his advantage.

Then Zhou spoke again.

"You took a spawn of mine. I’ll take a spawn of yours. That should make us even."

The room went still. Selaphiel’s smile faltered for a moment before she replied with a dry edge.

"Who? Edrin? You can take him if you want. I don’t care."

"Wait, what?!"

Edrin snapped upright, eyes bulging.

"Actually, you’d be doing me a favor,"

Selaphiel continued with a shrug, not even glancing at him.

"He’s become something of a... liability."

She turned her narrowed eyes toward him, drawing out the word.

Edrin audibly gulped. His face paled as he made a mental note to inform the priests that he had been compromised.

She knows.

Lugh’s thought was immediate. But if she knew, why hadn’t she acted?

Zhou gave Edrin a once-over and then said simply,

"No. I’m good."

"You think I’d want an old hag like you?"

Edrin hissed internally but wisely kept silent.

Zhou continued, voice colder now.

"And don’t try to pull wool over my eyes again, Selaphiel. I said important."

"Okay, that does it!"

Edrin snapped.

"Who do you think y—"

But before he could finish, the words died in his throat. His lips moved, but no sound came out. It was as if the very air around him refused to carry his voice.

Neither elf had even glanced at him.

Lugh watched this unfold with mild interest. What a clever trick. He had no doubt Selaphiel was responsible. After all, she could manipulate sound.

He began mentally assessing its potential. If used in tandem with firearms, it could mute gunfire and deaden artillery blasts, making for impossibly terrifying stealth applications.

Beyond that, if it could also create sounds, it might be able to mislead enemies with decoys or phantom distractions.

The possibilities were endless.

Compared to flashy fireballs, this was real power. Practical. Tactical. Lugh made a mental note to study it—and perhaps acquire the spell for himself.

Meanwhile, the conversation between the two elves continued.

Selaphiel raised a brow.

"So what then? My most impressive son is already dead."

Zhou didn’t flinch.

"Since when did I say it has to be your son?"

She was gripping Jahira’s hand now, fingers tight, almost possessive—as if afraid she’d vanish.

Jahira no longer looked nervous. Her face was a mask of impassivity. She didn’t resist Zhou’s grip, didn’t object. Lugh could tell immediately—this was the first she was hearing of any of ...whatever this was.

Selaphiel tilted her head slightly.

"Hmm? What are you even talking about?"

Zhou turned fully toward her, eyes narrowed.

"I said spawn, didn’t I?"

Selaphiel’s frown deepened. Slowly, the implications began to unfold in her mind.

"You mean to say...?"

"That’s right,"

Zhou cut in sharply.

"I want Lugh." ƒгeewebnovёl_com

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