Single Wish: Rise Of The Omniscient Paragon-Chapter 819 - 816: The Thirteenth Dawn (3)

"Zeke. I know that you’re happy that we have another talented Tier 3 apart from you in the group, but have you forgotten that we have a mission?"

Corey watched the woman with the blood-red overcoat as she stepped forward with her spear balanced lazily on her shoulder.

Her auburn eyes flicked between him and the man she’d just called Zeke.

"Don’t scare off the newbie before we even get to Whispergrove," she added, voice dry.

Zeke smirked but didn’t look away from Corey.

"I’m just testing the waters."

Corey responded flatly, "You’ll drown if you keep swimming in the wrong direction."

The room fell silent for a second again.

Then Myra, the spear user in a blood-red overcoat let out a low chuckle, dragging the butt of her cigarette against her gauntlet before flicking it away. "Well, at least you’re not boring like the captain or our prince of death."

Corey glanced at the kid whose expression was one of utter indifference and coldness.

It reminded him of Triple X, but when he compared his aura and facial expression to that of Triple X, he lost out on multiple fronts.

"I didn’t come here to entertain." Corey replied despite his thoughts on the necromancer of the group.

Rhys, the heavily armored tank, who had stayed quiet throughout the exchange, shifted his weight and finally spoke. His voice was calm and steady.

"Doesn’t matter what you came here for. What matters is that we move as a unit. We’re going into Whispergrove, not a sparring match."

Corey glanced at him with an unreadable expression. He knew that the words, ’sparring match’, were meant for him.

They knew about his sparring match with Amy, and they were indirectly trying to tell him that despite his performance in the sparring match, he still had to take his mission seriously.

"I know that." Corey replied emotionlessly, and Rhys nodded.

Zeke scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "He think he’s a hot shot. Wait until you enter Whispergrove, we’ll see if you’ll still be this arrogant. Just make sure you don’t drag us down."

Corey glanced at Zeke, and then he shifted his gaze to Myra.

"As you can see, I’m not the one getting emotional."

Myra shook her head with a nonchalant shrug.

Zeke spread his arms with a light grin, "Hey, I was just stating out the fact... Besides, I’m not emotional. I’m charismatic. There’s a difference."

"No, there isn’t," said Aelric, the boyish necromancer.

The moment Corey heard the boy’s voice, he could not help but frown.

The boy’s voice was as dry as dust, and when compares the voice to the body, a sense of dissonance, disturbance, and disgust would form in the hearts of anybody... Even Corey’s.

’He has a very young body but a terrible voice... What a terrible ability.’ Corey shook his head inwardly.

Aelric noticed his expression, but he didn’t care. He expected it, and he was used to it.

He took a step to the side and began idly toying with one of the bone charms hanging from his staff.

"One just talks more." He said.

Zeke clicked his tongue, giving Aelric a mock-offended glance. "And here I thought we had something special, little death prince... And you too, newbie."

Aelric didn’t even look up. "I don’t do special."

"Neither do I," Corey said casually, but he got a subtle snort from Yara, the braided assassin, who had remained mostly quiet.

She spoke now, stepping just a little closer to the group.

"We should all get used to working together. Personalities aside, no one here is useless. If they are..." She looked at Zeke, "... they’ll be found out fast."

Zeke raised a hand in surrender. "Alright, alright. Message received."

Kieran, the captain, finally pushed off from the wall and walked forward. His steps were quiet despite the sort of boots he was wearing. When he stopped, he was a few feet away from Corey.

His silver eyes studied him for a breath longer than necessary.

"I’ll assume you weren’t trying to provoke anyone."

"I wasn’t," Corey replied.

Kieran nodded once. "Good. Then I won’t have to remind you that we work as a unit. Whispergrove isn’t forgiving. The terrain is filled with the walking dead. The mana there is twisted and corrupt. And there are other things... worse than monsters... Hopefully, we encounter none of those things."

Corey raised a brow.

’Worse than what I encountered in the Shattered Dimension of the Old Ones and in the Death Race of the Clown?’

Although Corey had the urge to scoff or chuckle in response to Kieran’s words, he didn’t, since it would serve him no purpose.

"I understand."

Kieran nodded, "Better."

He turned to the others.

"Briefing will be in three hours. Rest, gear up, settle your issues before then."

He glanced back at Corey. "You’ll find the supply wing in the fourth room after this. Check what’s available to Silvers."

Corey gave a small nod. "Understood."

As Kieran turned and began walking out, the others began to disperse too.

Zeke lingered a moment longer, then pointed at Corey. "You know, I was excited to meet you after seeing what you did to the daughter of the Blue Flames."

"I was curious to see who had the balls to embarrass her... But now that I’ve met you, I can say that you’re just a bitch."

Corey smiled, "That’s unfortunate."

Zeke laughed and walked off, whistling. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Myra, the spear user passed Corey, pausing briefly.

"You don’t talk much," she said while cocking a brow.

"Neither do you," Corey replied.

"Yeah," she muttered with a crooked grin, "I like that."

Then she left too.

Soon, Corey was alone in the training arena, the last echoes of boots fading down the hall.

He looked toward the door Kieran had gone through.

A slight gust of air passed through the arena.

"The supply room huh. Let’s see what they have."

Corey muttered, and then he walked out of the arena and walked to the supply room.

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