Next day, noon's heat had begun to loosen its grip when the Lorebreakers gathered in the low-ceilinged large room near the base of the Hydra hideout. The windows were narrow slits barely letting in light, and the air smelled of old leather, copper dust, and mana residue. Beastcores hummed in shallow bowls along the walls, their stored energy pulsing like slow heartbeats. On a table in the center of the room lay Arthur's merchant belt.
It was simple in design, worn but sturdy, made to carry coin and hidden blades. But more importantly, it had withstood the pull and stretch of his hybrid form, the in-between state where man and dragon bled into one another.
Arthur stood over it now, fingers resting lightly along the seams, his eyes half-lidded in thought.
"I think it's our best chance." He murmured.
