Devourer's Legacy: I Regressed With The Primordial Crest
Chapter 79: In Disguise (1)

Chapter 79: In Disguise (1)

The wooden spoon scraped against the chipped ceramic bowl as the boy scooped up another mouthful of mashed potatoes. Steam rose from the simple meal, mixing with the warmth of twenty other breathing bodies packed around the long oak table.

"Sister, the mashed potatoes are so good, thank you!"

A freckled boy around ten years old beamed up at the woman sitting at the head of the table. His cheeks were round with food, and a bit of potato stuck to his chin.

Children of all ages filled the benches on both sides of the table. The youngest was barely four, needing help to hold her spoon properly. The oldest looked to be around sixteen, their faces already showing the hard edges that came from knowing the world wasn’t kind.

The woman they called Sister wore simple robes of white and black. Her graying hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and deep lines marked the corners of her eyes. But when she smiled at the children, those lines made her face look warm instead of stern.

"Eat your fill, Ramond. We have plenty for everyone," she said, her voice carrying the gentle authority of someone who had spent years caring for lost children.

The dining hall of Malborne Orphanage wasn’t much to look at. The walls were made of rough stone, and the wooden beams overhead were dark with age and smoke from the fireplace. A few small windows let in the fading afternoon light, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards.

But the children ate with enthusiasm, talking and laughing between bites. For many of them, this was the first real home they’d ever known.

When the last bowl was emptied and the final piece of bread torn apart, the children stood as one. Their voices joined together in a practiced chorus.

"Thank you for the meal."

They waited, hands clasped in front of them, for Sister to speak. The hall fell quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the distant sound of wind through the mountain passes beyond the orphanage walls.

Sister’s expression grew serious. "Now, as you all know, people from a reputable house will be here tomorrow. Some of you will have to leave with them for your higher education."

A few of the younger children shifted nervously. They’d heard about these visits before. Some children left and never came back. Others returned years later as knights or scholars or craftsmen, wearing fine clothes and speaking of the world beyond these stone walls.

The older children were excited to leave the place and make a name for themself and gain fame, while the younger ones looked as if they didn’t want anything.

"Zameena, Kai, and..." Sister’s gaze moved across the table until it settled on a boy sitting slightly apart from the others.

"Ray."

The boy she addressed sat at the far end of the table, where the light from the windows barely reached. He was tall for his age, probably sixteen, with dark hair that hung in uneven strands around his face. His clothes were the same rough brown cloth as the other children’s, but something about the way he held himself was different.

The boy had only arrived at the orphanage a month ago, brought by a wandering knight who’d found him alone in the mountains.

It turned out that both his parents were killed in a landslide, and even their small farm was buried under tons of rock and mud.

These kinds of tragedies happened too often in the remote regions where House Valor’s protection couldn’t reach. Still, watching a victim of such a tragedy was harsh.

"You three will be going with those people. Please get your things ready."

Sister’s voice was gentle, but the children could hear the weight behind her words.

By the look of it, Ray was already past the usual age for awakening. If he didn’t awaken a blood crest soon, his chances of ever making something of himself would disappear. This might be his only opportunity.

The three chosen children nodded silently. Around them, the other orphans began to file out of the dining hall, some patting the departing children on the shoulder or whispering words of encouragement.

Ray stood and walked toward the stairs that led to the sleeping quarters. His footsteps echoed in the narrow stone corridor, past doors that opened onto small rooms shared by three or four children each.

But Ray had been given a room to himself. Sister had explained it was because he was older, and the trauma of losing his parents so recently meant he needed space to grieve. The other children accepted this explanation easily enough.

His room was barely large enough for a narrow cot, a small wooden chest, and a single chair. The walls were the same rough stone as the rest of the building, and the only light came from a tiny window that looked out over the courtyard.

Ray closed the door behind him and sat down on the cot. The old rope and canvas frame creaked under his weight. He stared at the opposite wall, where someone had carved initials into the stone years ago.

For the first time in weeks, he allowed his shoulders to relax. The careful posture of a grieving farm boy melted away, replaced by something more confident.

"Finally!" he said, stretching his hand outward.

A small blue snake slithered around his arm and coiled in his palm. Its scales caught what little light came through the window, shimmering like tiny sapphires.

"Are you bored, Boa?" Ray asked. Or rather, Renard, the boy who had been living in disguise at the orphanage for the past month, asked.

The blue serpent let out a small hiss, sounding distinctly annoyed.

Renard chuckled softly. "I know, I know. You’ve been stuck inside my clothes for weeks with barely any time to move around. Just wait a few more days. You’ll be able to roam around outside soon enough."

Boa flicked her tongue out, as if testing his promise.

The plan had been Renard’s idea from the start. When Hobbren wanted to storm the Silent Monastery directly, Renard had talked him out of it. A frontal assault would be suicide – too many variables, too many ways for his daughter to get hurt in the chaos.

Instead, Renard had proposed something much more subtle. He would infiltrate the monastery as a student.

House Aster recruited heavily from orphanages across the continent, especially in remote areas where local nobles didn’t ask too many questions. They called it "higher education," but Renard knew what really happened to those children. The monastery needed test subjects for their dangerous magical experiments.

House Valor’s territory was perfect for this kind of operation. Lord Valor cared more about military strength than protecting his people, so orphanages in his lands saw regular visits from mysterious benefactors offering to educate promising children.

Renard had spent weeks researching which orphanages had connections to House Aster. Malborne was ideal – isolated, understaffed, and desperate enough to ask few questions about sudden donations or new arrivals.

The hardest part had been creating a believable backstory. A wandering knight "finding" him after his parents died in a landslide, but everything had worked out somehow.

Now, after a month of eating thin soup and pretending to grieve, tomorrow would finally arrive.

"The plan’s simple enough," Renard murmured, letting Boa wrap around his wrist. "I go in with the other recruits, find Hobbren’s daughter, and signal Hobbren when I’ve located a good escape route."

The signal would be visible from miles away – something bright enough for Kasim to spot from his hidden position in the hills around the monastery. Once Kasim saw it, he’d alert Hobbren, and the Martial King would begin his assault on the monastery’s outer defenses.

In the chaos of the attack, Renard would slip away with his daughter using whatever route he’d scouted during his time inside.

It was a careful plan, but it required patience. Renard would need days, maybe weeks, to map the monastery’s layout and find where they were keeping Hobbren’s daughter. Until then, Hobbren had strict orders to stay hidden, and Kasim was supposed to watch over Renard from a distance.

"Though I have no idea where he actually is," Renard muttered, glancing around the small room.

Kasim was a master of concealment. Even with Renard’s breakthrough to the Essence Zone, he couldn’t detect his presence. It was both impressive and slightly unnerving.

Boa hissed softly, as if reminding him of more immediate concerns.

"Right," Renard said, carefully placing the serpent on the cot beside him. "Shall we start our training then?"

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