Veylin turned to Tristan, his voice steady.
"Send all the sea beasts we captured last time to Master Valerius, dead or alive."
"Also, notify Elwin. Have him bring the spellcasters to assist the master."
Tristan acknowledged the orders, turned, and hurried away.
Baron Kru had just gulped down a mouthful of wine and nearly choked at those words.
He opened his mouth, the fat on his cheeks quivering.
"Sea beasts? Lord Veylin, do you mean those shelled creatures? We're on the brink of destruction. What good will studying them do?"
The other nobles in the Council Chamber began to stir as well, their recently suppressed panic resurfacing.
"Exactly! We should gather every alchemist and make another batch of depth charges!"
"What use are those things? Are we having them for dinner?"
Veylin offered no explanation.
He returned to his seat and picked up a food reserve inventory, as though the pounding underground were merely raindrops outside the window.
His silence carried more weight than any reprimand, and the clamor in the Council Chamber gradually subsided.
Two days later.
The Origin Society's underground isolation room.
The door to the isolation room swung open, and Veylin walked in.
His eyes bloodshot behind crystal goggles, Valerius stood before a complex apparatus made of copper pipes and tuning forks, rapidly reciting a string of instructions.
Beside him, assistants frantically turned valves and recorded data.
Even a casual glance showed Veylin sheets of parchment covered in crossed-out designs on one side.
Various dissection tools and the remains of several sea beasts lay scattered across the workbench.
"Master," Veylin said.
"Shh-don't make a sound!"
Without turning, Valerius raised a hand for silence, his eyes fixed on the sea crab shackled to the stone table.
"Elwin! Lullaby, lower the frequency below the hearing threshold! Ether flow at