《Ultima Deus - The Last God》 Prologue - Welcome to the Deus Project Prologue New San Francisco, year 2039 Dark clouds rumbled above, interspersed with the occasional flash of a discharge against the atmospheric containment dome. Currently, it was set to filter out any hazardous substances from the acid rain and pollutants in the air, letting only a mild, steady rain shower upon the city. A pleasant female voice with the precise diction and emotionless clarity of an AI rang out over the public announcement system. *Diiiing* ¡°All citizens are informed that the weather pattern has been set to [Pastoral Autumn Rain] for the next 240 minutes, from 2200 to 0200 hours. Temperature and humidity levels have been adjusted to nominal standards. The immediate activation of your personal Weather Isolation System (WIS) is highly recommended. New San Francisco thanks you for your patronage. Have a pleasant day citizens.¡± ¡°.. Rain again? We just had it three days ago..¡± ¡°.. Let¡¯s hurry home, I don¡¯t want to catch a chill..¡± ¡°.. Waaa.. it¡¯s rain again. Damn, why won¡¯t my WIS activate..¡± ¡°.. Pastoral? Who the hell comes up with these..¡± The streets were packed with people. New San Francisco boasted one of the most active nightlife scenes on the West Coast. However, among the milling mass of people jostling one another, there was an island of space around one man. He stood out because he was the only person who had not activated his WIS. He was soaked to the bone, his wet clothes clinging to his thin frame. His face looked worn and haggard, aged before his time. His shoulders slumped downward as though he bore an enormous weight, and each of his steps dragged listlessly under him. ¡°.. What¡¯s with that guy..?¡± ¡°.. He looks like a freak..¡± ¡°.. Better keep my distance..¡± It was all lost as background noise to Michael Lee. His steps slowly took him to one of the flashiest buildings in the downtown area. He stepped through the automatic sliding glass double doors into a grandly lit lobby, moving from the slight chill of the evening outside into the fuzzy warmth of the artificially regulated room temperature. As he passed through, he could feel the slight tingling buzz of the invisible nanobot layer which automatically extracted all excess moisture from his skin, hair and clothes. Even the squelching of his shoes was gone, replaced by the quiet rustle as the cheap rubber soles of his shoes brushed against the delicate fibers of the luxurious carpet. A flash of light in the air before him resolved itself into the hologram of an attractive woman in her early twenties. For a hologram, she was fleshed out in incredible detail. Michael could literally count the individual strands of her shoulder-length hair as they swayed gracefully back and forth to an invisible breeze. Her immaculate uniform of blue-and-white looked freshly pressed and crisp to a fault. One of the petals in the flower she wore pinned to the lapel of her jacket was dangling slightly, about to fall off. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Welcome, Michael! I¡¯m so pleased to see you again. I hope the weather pattern change didn¡¯t catch you unprepared. Have you come regarding your recent application serial number RE-7443823881-I?¡± As she tilted her head to one side, the petal finally detached itself and slowly fluttered to the floor. It remained there, lightly skipping along the floor to the same invisible breeze - yet another exorbitant luxury that showcased the quality of the hologram. One could almost imagine it was a real person, if not for the unnatural calmness and artificial cheerfulness conveyed in her expression. Michael despised AIs, even highly refined ones meant for human interaction like this receptionist. Wordlessly, Michael pushed his arm forward through the hologram, which started to flicker intermittently as static crackled through its surface. Then he unclenched his white-knuckled fist, letting its contents flutter to the floor. He had long lost all feeling in that hand, and blood steadily trickled down his fingers from the deep furrows his nails had left in the palms of his hands. Three individual sheets of paper bearing his signature spread out along the floor. The water on them had been dried by the nanomite layer at the door, but his grip had left the paper warped and twisted, streaked in blood and grime. The hologram abruptly blinked out, then instantly reappeared in the air three feet ahead of him, out of his reach. The young woman beamed a delighted smile as she clapped both hands in front of her chest. ¡°Ah, excellent! I see you have filled out all the required documents. Let¡¯s see.. Rebirth application.. approved. Citizenship privileges.. revoked. Purging of vital records.. complete.¡± A small flicker of light passed through her irises as her eyes unfocused for a moment, then they focused on Michael again. He no longer thought they looked human. Rather, they looked hungry. A wild beast about to feast. ¡°Welcome to the Deus Project.¡±
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Chapter 1 - The Great War ¡°Seth?¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Seth?¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Seth!¡± A hand grasped his shoulder and spun him about. It belonged to a huge bear of a man, with red skin and glowing coals for eyes. His dark hair stood at an impossible angle from his head, and the outline of a thin gold circlet could be seen through gaps in it. As he spoke, he could see his teeth were filed to points. *These guys are just trying a little too hard. And what¡¯s worse, failing. Badly.* They must have tried for an intimidating devil-like appearance, but all it did was evoke thoughts of an over-stuffed sausage with horns and funny hairdo. ¡°SETH!¡± Finally, the voice betrayed hints of impatience and the faint promise of violence. ¡°What?¡± Seth spit out, narrowing his eyes. ¡°You must choose your starting race.¡± A frustrated huff of air widened the overstuffed sausage devil¡¯s nostrils. ¡°Look, I know it¡¯s a lot to take in. You have to remember, though, that your previous life is effectively gone. C¡¯mon buddy, work with me here. Michael Lee¡¯s gone bye bye. Poof. Kaput! You are no longer a citizen of the United American Federation, and all vital records have gone adios. Basically, Michael Lee never even existed. Aw well, who cares, right? I mean, you¡¯re an F-lister. Dunno what you did out there, but if you volunteered, it can¡¯t have been any..¡± ¡°Snooping in my personal files?¡± Michael interrupted coldly. A few years after the Great War, slavery had been abolished, and the ranks of the citizenry had been reorganized, ranging from D, the lowest, to S, the highest. F-listers were people who had effectively surrendered their freedom and their rights to the Federation. Officially, they did not even exist. ¡°Ah, well, it¡¯s part of my job.¡± Sausage-guy shrugged unapologetically. ¡°Hey, listen, the point is.. well, the point is, this is the opportunity of a lifetime! Your name is now Seth, and this is your chance to live out your darkest fantasies and fulfill your wildest dreams in the promised land, the holy guacamole, the whole enchilada.. Aeterna!¡± The whole motivational speech would have been far more convincing without the matted blood staining overstuffed devil-guy¡¯s chin. It certainly could have done without his hand constantly wandering under his pants to scratch away at some persistent itch - hopefully nothing contagious. Did they code that in somehow, a corner of Michael¡¯s mind wondered idly. Realizing he would not get the reaction he was hoping for, devil guy slowly deflated, and his hands spread out in silent acquiescence. Then he crossed his arms belligerently as he glared down at Michael. ¡°Hey, look. I don¡¯t really care what you did or why you¡¯re here. All I need to do is get you started. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I get to herd another of you non-coms through the rotating doors and out of my hair.¡± Non-coms. This guy was just an endless parade of derogatory terms, wasn¡¯t he? Michael would like to see him call anyone a non-com to his face out there in the real world. Even odds that he¡¯d get beaten, stabbed or worse, sold off to become a non-com himself. Michael¡¯s expression darkened as he recalled what the term really meant. Most thought they knew, but very few actually did. They would have had to have been there, experienced it. The Great War. The Great War had pitted evenly matched world powers against one another, inevitably drawing every nation on Earth into the conflict. It had been mercifully short, and spectacularly brutal. When nuclear weapons of mass destruction had been ruled out by the fear of mutually assured destruction and, well, being crowned as the winner of a heap of nuclear ashes, the great and wise leaders of the world had instead turned to the new flavor of the millennium. Bio-chemical warfare. With zero collateral damage to existing infrastructure and high lethality to all hostile populations, they had carelessly sprayed and splashed about in the deadliest viral concoctions known to man. As a result, the Great War, which had been predicted by all experts to last for well over 20 years, had instead lasted exactly 295 days. This was the exact lifespan of the longest-lived of all the pathological agents unleashed. When all was said and done, 97.4% of the world population had been culled. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Of course, the figures did little to describe the horrors of watching all the people you¡¯ve ever known and loved slowly melt and turn into puddles of oozing meat pulsing crimson with ever-slowing frequency, until at last - perhaps mercifully so - they finally ceased to be. It was far better than the alternative. Sometimes the pulsing never stopped, and people lived caged in a prison of flesh that refused to function except to draw one torturous breath after another. The resulting trauma, whether physical or psychological, left a vast majority of the survivors unable to carry out normal human functions. These were the non-coms. Non-conforming individuals who could not adapt to modern society. The resulting debacle was that of a pristine Earth, suddenly overflowing with resources and infrastructure, but sorely lacking the human will to drive it forward. Artificial Intelligence could fill the gaps at the lowest level of labor, but any task requiring the slightest level of autonomy or complexity was hopelessly out of reach for current AI technologies. This was solved by the passing of the highly controversial, and even more acclaimed, Non-conformity Response Act, also known as NCRA. It basically authorized the ¡°readjustment¡± of non-conforming individuals to act as the engines quenching the desperate need for highly sophisticated AI. Simply put, they forcibly removed you from your family, friends, and former life - and inserted you into one of millions of AI Matrix cells. Inside these vast neural network complexes, mechanisms to feed nutrients and the disposal of waste material were attached, and highly sophisticated neural connections were patched directly into the cerebral cortex. Humans are said to use under 10% of their cerebral capacity throughout their whole lifespan. What would happen if that untapped 90% were to be fully utilized for other purposes? This was the principle behind the NCRA. Factories, farms, hospitals, schools, restaurants.. they could be operated by AI enriched through non-coms plugged into them. It saved the human race from slowly reverting back into the stone age. Of course, mass protests took place, clamoring for the rights of the non-coms. However, along with the NCRA an incentive program was developed. It was code-named the ¡°Deus Project¡±. Unveiled along with the passage of the NCRA, it was the unveiling of a virtual reality realm to far outstrip the most ambitious VR programs to date. Near limitless funds and the greatest minds of the age were combined to create Aeterna, a virtual realm of fantasy and adventure where non-coms were allowed free rein. It was hailed as the best possible treatment for people who, due to either emotional, psychological or physical trauma, were unable to function normally in society. Instead, their memories were purged and they were inserted into Aeterna to seek their fates and live out their fantasies while their bodies rotted inside simulation pods and their brains were wrung out of all their humanity. To Michael, it was ironic that the name of the program was the ¡°Deus Project¡±, or ¡°God Project¡±. Purportedly, the ultimate goal of every non-com was to be reborn as a deity and reign over Aeterna as a member of an immortal pantheon. Pitiful worms striving to become the king worm inside a can of crap. And now, Michael.. no, Seth had been forced to become one of them. Well, if he was to become a worm, he would become the worm to devour all worms. He would not become just any god. He would become the God to end all gods. The Last God. *I will have my revenge.* Seth¡¯s hands clenched into fists at his sides, and he growled his final acceptance of his fate. ¡°Fine, lets get this crap over with.¡± Suffice to say, sausage-devil was delighted.
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Chapter 2 - Stubborn Mule Chapter 2 - Stubborn Mule ¡°Alright, so.. what race do you want to be?¡± ¡°Human.¡± ¡°Ah, our current quota for humans has been exceeded. You know, elves have been all the rage lately. Their affinity for elemental magic is second to none, and their marksmanship..¡± ¡°Human.¡± ¡°Eh. Well, them elves can be kind of puny when you¡¯re ready to throw down and get into a dogfight. Now, orcs, they¡¯re tireless, merciless machines of destruct..¡± ¡°Human.¡± ¡°Eh, yeah, their breath stinks worse than their feet, after all. How about the new half-ogre race? They can easily slap an orc or two silly, like swatting flies..¡± ¡°Human.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°... Human. I get it..¡± With an air of quiet resignation, fat devil-guy started to fiddle with his fingers, apparently operating some sort of invisible console floating in front of his eyes. ¡°Alright. Now, what class would you like to get? I see you have a background as a veteran of the Great Wa..¡± ¡°¡­¡± My scorching glare was enough to leave the last bits of that sentence trailing. I had enough vitriol to drown out the sun. It was more than enough to shut up this glorified pencil pusher. ¡°Umm. Yeah, so.. would you like to be a soldier? They get bonuses to their combat arts, discipline, and stamina. You do get a slight penalty to your intelligence and wisdom..¡± ¡°Scholar.¡± ¡°Eh?! Ah, that¡¯s.. umm, that¡¯s a very passive class focused on research and contemplation. They gain a high wisdom and intelligence bonus, but they¡¯re.. well, they¡¯re just helpless in a fight. How about a thief? Skulking through shadows, stabbing baddies in the back, sneaking peeks into public baths..¡± ¡°Scholar.¡± ¡°Riiiight. They do end up hanging from a tree branch or minus a hand or two. Not the best long-term career choice. Moving right along to the ranger! Now, there¡¯s the dead-eyed archer who is the master of all that is wild and..¡± ¡°Scholar.¡± ¡°Yeah, rangers are a bunch of uncivilized cowards, they mostly live in huts and bay at the moon. Never stand for a good fight. Well, I see you keenly value knowledge and its pursuit. For such, none better than the mighty wizard! Master of the elements, wielder of arcane power, and hoarder of all knowled..¡± ¡°Scholar.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°.. Scholar it is.¡± The barely audible words were mumbled through an expression of utter defeat. ¡°I do have to warn you that according to our profiling algorithms, you are ill suited to any class that does not have ready access to instant and explosive feats of violence and mayhem.¡± ¡°Duly noted.¡± ¡°Ahem. Fine. Scholar. Affiliation? There are many such. You can choose to specialize in the arts, always popular with the ladies.¡± ¡°Ancient History.¡± ¡°Or perhaps.. What? Ancient History? That¡¯s.. the least popular of the affiliations. Truly useless unless you plan to write books to bore readers to death. Perhaps you¡¯re thinking it will help you find ancient treasures, but what good will the knowledge do you when a sneezing goblin will break you in two? You''ll never even make it there. If History is what you want, how about Modern Civilization? It can lead to the satisfying life of a successful politician, commanding thousands with the wave of a hand..¡± ¡°Ancient History.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to listen to any of my recommendations, are you?¡± Fat devil-guy squinted at me, fuming. ¡°¡­¡± I just stared back impassively. ¡°Fine. Scholar of Ancient History. Now. Where do you want to start? I can recommend..¡± Fat devil-guy stopped abruptly, then let out a heavy sigh. ¡°You know where you want to go, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°The Arioch Wastelands,¡± was my immediate, steely reply. ¡°What?! That¡¯s.. that¡¯s the most desolate of the starting areas. An endless desert filled with nothing but sand and monsters. The only reason it is available as a starting area is because it is the home of the Ae Sur warrior clans. Savages, all of them, knowing only how to kill each other and multiply like rabbits. Only races and classes with high combat stats should even think of going there, and then only if they have a deathwish. C¡¯mon, work with me. Push that noggin of yours. How about the Sage City of Vitalia? Or the Wizard Circle of Karuz Bel? The Great Library of the Linden Republic?¡± ¡°The. Arioch. Wastelands.¡± I ground out the words, letting him know that there was no compromise. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Yet another sigh, this one longer than the others. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s your funeral.¡± Here you go, make sure everything¡¯s the way you want it.
Starting Stats
Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
Level:1Class:Scholar
Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
Starting Area:Arioch WastelandsTalents:???
Please Confirm Your Choice
ConfirmCancel
Right as I was about to hit the button for confirm, I noticed the field reading Talent: ???. ¡°Hey, what is this?¡± The devil guy grinned mischievously. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s your hidden gift or ability. Potentially, your most powerful talent. It will be revealed when you enter Aeterna for the first time.¡± I eyed him suspiciously. I had done as much research as I could before entering Aeterna. I had a purpose, a clear conviction, and the will to reach it. I would become the god killer. I would visit my vengeance upon this whole world. However, I had never heard of the stat ¡°Talent¡±. Still frowning, I pressed the button.
You have confirmed your choice.
Loading Gates of Oblivion. Please Wait.
As the world slowly dissolved into a storm of prismatic lights, I caught one last glimpse of that horned devil, now openly laughing at me. Instinctively, I glanced at the Talent stat in my status window, which was still open.
Starting Stats
Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
Level:1Class:Scholar
Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
Starting Area:Arioch WastelandsTalents:Stubborn Mule
"!!!" *Why that fat bastard! I''ll show you..* Then everything vanished in a flash of white.
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Chapter 3 - Flawed Soul Chapter 3 - Flawed Soul Dark mists are rising all around me. Though it seems I¡¯m inside some kind of dimly lit cave, the air is surprisingly warm, and a calm feeling irradiates from my chest, deepening with every breath I take. *Great, now they¡¯re resorting to psychedelic drugs* Gradually, a source of light could be glimpsed ahead. Before anything, however, I took a moment to mutter, ¡°Status Window¡±.
Status Window
Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
Level:1Class:Scholar
Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
Gender:MaleTalent:Stubborn Mule
Titles
??
Fame:??Infamy:??
-
Health:?? / ??Health Regen:?.? / Sec
Mana:?? / ??Mana Regen:?.? / Sec
Stamina:?? / ??Stamina Regen:?.? / Sec
-
Strenght:??Agility:??
Vitality:??
Intelligence:??Wisdom:??
Leadership:??Luck:??
-
Attack:??Defense:??
Physical Resistances
Slashing:??Piercing:??
Crushing:??
Elemental Resistances
Fire:??Water:??
Wind:??Earth:??
Light:??Darkness:??
Not that much useful information. Most of it is still hidden. I suppose that was to be expected, since this is probably still part of the character creation process. Not much use to complain now. Then again.. ¡°Stubborn Mule.. my ass. Hah, ass. Now I AM an ass. Damn fatty.¡± In my previous life, the REAL life, I had to admit interpersonal relationships had probably been one of my greatest weaknesses. Whether through sheer talent or force of will, somehow I was able to achieve one objective after another so long as I put out the necessary effort, without having to bow and scrape to the wishes or demands of those around me. Those under me called me a despot and a workaholic behind my back. Those in positions over me either despised me as an antisocial freak, or singled me out as the obsessive compulsive career type, and thus a prominent threat to their position. ¡°I guess it was about time for it to come bite me in the ass again. Will I ever learn?¡± Shrugging, I looked down to take stock of my situation. I seemed to be wearing white robes of some soft pliable cloth material. Soft moccasins of the same material covered my feet. There were no weapons, and no supplies. Figures I¡¯d be left stranded in the middle of some ominous cave with no way to defend or feed myself. Shifting my weight, I reflected that at least I wasn¡¯t going barefoot or naked. Well, that was fine by me. I had always made my own way in the world, and I hated owing anything to anyone. After a methodical examination of my surroundings, I casually picked up a rock, just the right size and shape to fit neatly into my hand. I carefully examined the item.
Fist-sized Rock
Type:Blunt WeaponDamage:2 - 4
Bonus:May be used as a missileDurability:4 / 5
Quality:F
A round rock with the ideal size to allow easy movement while adding to the impact of any blunt attacks. However, it doesn''t look like it can take that many hits before cracking or crumbling. Still, it is better than nothing.
Hefting the rock, I nodded to myself. A swift swing could cave in a skull or break a bone, effectively enhancing my damage output. Which wasn¡¯t much to begin with, if the dismally low points in the Status Window was anything to go by. Hell, if anything, I could use it to distract any opponents while rushing in to strike at a key weak point. Or to allow for a strategic retreat. No cowardice involved, but rather it was simple efficiency. *Ttirring*
Congratulations! You have acquired a new Trait: ¡°Paranoid Survivalist¡±!
Startled, I stopped in my tracks and murmured, ¡°Trait Information, ¡°Paranoid Survivalist!¡±.
Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
Paranoid SurvivalistF15%
Only the most paranoid of individuals would resist the calming effect of the Mists of Serenity emanating from the Gates of Oblivion. You will do anything to survive, even if it causes premature aging, loss of hair and other high stress related ailments! It also makes you seem jumpy or suspicious to other people. Perception bonus: +2 Alertness bonus: +2 Resistance to Charm or Mind Control effects: +2 Charisma penalty: -1 Trading penalty: -1 Persuation penalty: -1 Diplomacy penalty: -1 Max Vitality penalty: -2 HP
What the hell? I watched in dismay as my total HP took a steep hit. My health bar had gone down by fully one third! Well, maybe in the long run 2 HP would not matter all that much. Wait, one third? That meant.. ¡°I only had 6 HP to begin with?¡± Ice ran through my veins. I was now at 4 Hp. The rock in my hands did 2-3 damage. That meant I could only take two hits. Two, and I would be done for. That fat devil bastard was not kidding when he said a sneezing goblin would do me in. It seems I drastically underestimated how fragile the Scholar class would be. I gripped my rock with renewed determination. Looking at it from an objective perspective, the least damage any attack could do was 1. That meant Scholars really could not afford to get careless. Even the lightest of bruises could lead to death. Death in Aeterna carried a steep penalty with it. Not much was known about its mechanics, but upon death a random percentage of experience, skills and items would be lost. Sometimes more, sometimes less. There had been endless speculation as to the logic behind this. Suffice to say, however, that death was definitely not good. Well, now that I was armed as well as I could under the circumstances, I felt far more confident than I had a moment ago. Old habits die hard, I suppose. I¡¯m used to always being armed and ready. I carefully made my way forward through the mists, checking my footing. I wouldn¡¯t put it past that fat bastard to plop me right in the middle of a dungeon full of pit traps and trip wires. That reminded me of my newly acquired ¡°talent¡±, thanks to fat devil guy. Well, I suppose I had always been a bit of an ass. Now I was officially one. Then I paused. ¡°Talent Information, Stubborn Mule.¡±
Talent Name:Talent Rank:Talent Level:Talent Experience:
Stubborn MuleF199%
The mighty God of Rebirth, Judge of the Dead and Forger of Souls has granted you this special talent. Even in the face of all logic or reason, though oceans crash upon your shoulders and storms flail at your sides, you remain stalwart, an unmovable object, an unstoppable force. You are the stubborn mule. Strength +1 Agility +1 Vitality +3 Intelligence -1 Wisdom -1 Leadership +1 Luck +3 Resistance to charm, fear or other mind control effects +100%. Resistance to bind, stun, knockdown, and other forms of crowd control +100% P.S. Now you really are an ass. Enjoy~! - Enma-sama.
¡°...¡± Laugh while you can, funny guy. You¡¯re going down first when I hunt down the whole lot of you. However, for now there lies a long road ahead. Having been a soldier by career, I know about the effort and discipline it takes to achieve anything worthwhile. I will persevere, and I will conquer. Or die trying. Talent can only take you so far. Hard work and unflinching determination are what counts, in the end. Resuming my exploration of the mists, I was drawing closer to the source of light. I could now make out the faint outlines of a huge glowing arch ahead, at least 50 feet high and nearly as wide. It was made of some mysterious jet black stone, smooth and glittering, almost like obsidian. However, I could tell from a glance that it would not be nearly as brittle. As I grew nearer, I finally realized it was not the gate itself was that glowing. Instead, it seemed as though a light filtered through the smallest of gaps all around it. On top of that, most of the light was dimmed because the door was completely wrapped by something. The light seemed to pulse, as though it were alive. It would waver slightly for a moment, then blaze brilliantly the next. It almost looked as though it were breathing. Finally pulling up to the gate, I realized what it was that ran along its entire surface. The gates were were firmly chained shut. Countless chains crisscrossed the whole length of it, threading and looping over themselves like a mad puzzle. They were all in different sizes and shapes, and in various states of disrepair. Some seemed made of pure gold, though mold had covered some of its surface. Others were almost completely rusted through, the iron turning a deep maroon. Some had a grayish cast that suggested they had been white at one point or another, while others had a dull black tint that had faded with time. While a few looked exquisitely crafted, though worn away, others looked roughly hewn with uneven links and jagged edges. Some even had nasty spikes and hooks all along their edge. ¡°What the hell is this?¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°They are the burdens of your former life, which you must shed in order to be born anew.¡± Startled, I spun around and reached for my.. rock. Feeling slightly pathetic, I hefted my rock and faced the source of the voice. ¡°Wha.. Who are you?¡± The stately figure of a woman in the prime of her years stood before me. She wore a flowing robe of the same material I was wearing, only it looked much better on her. Flowing locks of light blue hair framed a perfectly proportioned face with delicately chiseled features. Her eyes were liquid pools of violet that watched him serenely. Oh, and she was floating a full two feet in the air. ¡°I am Selenzhastadruszil, the Gatekeeper, the Guardian of the Keys, the Champion of the Lost, Lady of the Mists of Serenity.¡± ¡°...?!¡± My expression must have spoken volumes for me. ¡°Ah, you may call me Selendra.¡± ¡°Whatever. How do I get out of here?¡± She seemed to take no offense at my tone. If anything, her gaze held quiet sympathy as she gestured towards the gates behind my back, ¡°You must walk through the Gates of Oblivion.¡± *Ttirring*
You have received a quest: ¡°The Journey to Oblivion, and Beyond.¡±
The Journey to Oblivion, and Beyond Difficulty: D
Description: As ages come and go, empires rise and fall, and worlds are born and die, legend becomes myth. One such are the tales of the Gates of Oblivion. Each soul must be tempered by its trials. Only then will the Keeper of the Gates unlock the doors to the next cycle, where the soul may rejoin the endless circle of life and death.Goals:
  • Shed the chains of the past.
  • Cleanse your soul.
  • Pass through the Gates of Oblivion
The Keeper of the Gates of Oblivion bids you welcome, and grants you permission to pass through to Oblivion, thus shedding the burdens of your former life as you step into the final stage of the Ritual of Rebirth. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Aeterna awaits beyond the Gates!Requirements:
  • Must be wearing the Robes of Rebirth.
  • Restricted to newly forged souls.
  • Must shed chains of the past to forge soul anew
Quest Rewards:
  • Achieve status: Reborn - Newly Soulbound
  • Enter Aeterna.
¡°Yeah see, I would, but in case you haven¡¯t noticed, there are about 5 tons of scrap metal between it and me,¡± I muttered darkly. Nonplussed, Selendra dipped her head imperceptibly towards me, ¡°It would indeed seem as though the burdens your soul bears are an order of magnitude above that of other humans.¡± I waited for her to continue, but Selendra merely returned my stare with a serene, impassive gaze. ¡°So? What am I supposed to do?¡± ¡°You must walk through the Gates of Oblivion.¡± I waited, but apparently there were no other instructions forthcoming. Turning around, I inspected the chains once more. Upon closer examination, while the chains were an unredeemable mess in the middle, they were each attached to both sides of the gates. There stood one pillar on each side, to which countless chains were fastened. I gave an experimental tug on one of the smallest, puniest looking chains I could see. There was stiff resistance at first, but with the groaning sound of twisting metal, it slowly started to give. Then all of a sudden.. *POP* The chain I was holding detached itself from the left pillar of the gate all at once, and I was forced to drop it as the sudden weight pulled at my hands painfully. The heavy links landed on the ground with a heavy THUD. Taking hold of the other side of the chain, I pulled hard against it, feeling it straining against the pillar on the opposite side. *POP* There was even less resistance this time. Confident now, I dumped the chain at my feet and rolled up my sleeves. Maybe I could pull off 2 or 3 chains at a time and save myself some work. This felt good for some reason, like my body were lighter. Freer. Maybe something about the sound? I couldn¡¯t decide if it reminded me of the popping of popcorn or the sharp boom of a gun going off. Wait a moment. What? I froze in mid-motion, the chain I had just picked up still draped around my hands. Popcorn sounds nothing like real gunfire. If anybody, I should know that. Cold sweat trickled down my back. ¡°I.. I can¡¯t remember the sound popcorn makes. Old.. old gramps used to.. I know he used to make it for me all the time when I was a kid. He would.. He would..¡± Scrambling through my head, it felt as though I were grasping at fine sand trickling through my fingers. Whenever I took hold of a single grain, 5 others were irrevocably lost. I stared in horror at the chain at my feet, which had begun to slowly disintegrate. It¡¯s surface seemed to be flaking off as though it were shedding its skin, only there was nothing under it. Within moments, it was gone. The last of its ashes was picked up by a gust of wind and they floated over his head towards the mists circulating in the caves. ¡°Gramps?¡± What did Gramps look like..? ¡°The chains.. and the mists.. they¡¯re memories. You¡¯re taking all my memories.¡± I spun around to glare accusingly at the Keeper. Selendra nodded somberly, though her eyes seemed to hold a hint of sorrow. ¡°You must let go of the past in order to reach for the future. The pain of the loss of loved ones, the nights of desperate loneliness, the scars of unbearable wounds to the body and spirit.. the Gates of Oblivion shall cleanse all, and thus forge your soul anew.¡± ¡°All well and good. Only, it is MY pain. MY nights of solitude. MY scars to bear.¡± Selendra shook her head slowly, ¡°You must shed the burdens of the past if you wish to purify your spirit and forge your soul anew. Otherwise, you will be tainted and broken, unable to be whole and achieve the state of perfect bliss within Aeterna. Your soul will wander the lands for eternity without respite, unable to quench its thirst or sate its hunger, for you will be flawed.¡± I showed her my first real, heartfelt grin since the beginning of this whole fiasco. To be honest, it was more of a feral snarl which bared my fangs, daring anyone to come for a closer look. I would chew your damn head off. ¡°It¡¯s called being human, bitch. Now lay off.¡± Yeah, that suited me just fine. Selendra¡¯s eyes widened in surprise, but she instantly schooled her expression into that of seemingly boundless serenity. ¡°Nonetheless, you are at an impasse. The chains will not allow you passage on to Aeterna, and you will wander these halls until the Mists of Serenity sap your will completely. Eventually, you will become part of the Mist.¡± One chain. Gone. Sure, there were memories I could really do without. .. Giving the order to proceed with the crucial first assault on Hunan Beach, where the casualty rate had reached a mind-numbing 90%. A brilliant strategic victory, but the brutal tactical reality was that over 200,000 fresh recruits - barely more than kids, most of them - had lost their lives in 3 hours of frenzied battle. He had hated his own cold calculating mind as he assigned the veteran units to flanking duties in order to minimize the loss of personnel in their ranks, because they were harder to replenish.. .. Signing the execution warrant for private Chris Walcott, who had deserted his unit in the crumbling frontlines in order to look for his wife and newborn child among the throngs of refugees fleeing the other way. He was only the first of many, many to more come.. .. Crushing the tear-stained letter that lay within my trembling fist as I choked down one pitiful sob after another, as my other fist repeatedly slammed against the military issue equipment locker beside my head. The bright plaque partly read, ¡°First Liut. Michael Lee, 1st Force Scout Reco..¡± The rest was liberally splattered in blood. I had known that leaving Gramps to join the army would break his heart, but to find that it literally had done so. After all those years of selfless sacrifice and unremitting love.. Gramps.. .. And of course, Sophia.. Ah, my Sophia.. ¡°Screw that. Get out of my way! I¡¯m going in one way or another, and I ain¡¯t leaving anything behind.¡± Selendra dipped her head in acknowledgement, but said nothing. *Sophia..* My mind firmly made up, I gripped the thickest of the chains in both hands. I could barely get my hands around it. Images flittered through my mind as I squeezed, and I thought sparks could be seen jumping between my fingers. With a loud roar, I pulled. Hard. *BOOM* The chain came off abruptly, both sides tearing with a great squealing sound of abused metal. The weight of it made me stagger to one side, and I had to catch myself against the bulk of the other chains in order not to fall. ¡°One..¡± I huffed, gasping for breath. I knew this was as much a race against time as it was of strength, both physical and of will. My trembling hands were being rapidly sapped of all their power. However, I had a theory, and here I would be proven right.. or wrong. I had always been a gambling man, no matter the odds. With another roar, I threw the thick chain over my back, looping it around my left shoulder. It dug painfully against my skin, but I gritted my teeth and shook off the pain. Then I took hold of the next thickest chain, and once again pulled with all my strength. *SNAP* It came off, and this time I managed not to stagger. Quickly looping it around my other shoulder, I barely took the time to take a few breaths before reaching for the next chain. ¡°You can¡¯t possible be considering..¡± came the voice of Selendra over my shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s exactly right,¡± I grunted. *CHINK* Another chain. Loop. Next. ¡°You can¡¯t do this. It is impossible, your soul cannot possibly endure..¡± That instantly confirmed my suspicion. I knew it! It seemed logical to conclude that if memories could be given tangible physical manifestations, then this realm might not be the physical after all. If that was so, then this body was not my flesh and blood body in Aeterna. Not yet. It was my soul. Or whatever metaphysical equivalent applied. In any case.. ¡°If.. it¡¯s.. muscle.. and bone.. might.. break..¡± *CRACK* Loop. Stagger. Next. ¡°But.. my soul.. it.. is.. goddamn.. bulletproof..¡± *SLAM* Loop. Wheeze. Next. ¡°So.. if.. not helping..¡± *THRUMP* Loop. Groan. Tremble. Next. ¡°Then.. get.. out.. of.. my way..¡± *CRASH* Loop. Slip. Recover. ¡°.. Bitch..¡± ¡°...¡± After what felt like an eternity, I lay on my knees. Blood had pooled on the ground below me, trickling down my body from wounds and cuts I had literally lost count of. Couldn¡¯t even feel them anymore. Couldn¡¯t feel anything. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my chest felt as though it were about to explode. I could hear the desperate thumping of my heart reaching a crescendo, and I knew the end was near. One final chain. The thinnest, smallest, but when I had pulled on it with one trembling hand, it had simply not been enough. The weight of the chains coiled all about my body was overwhelming. Not only the physical weight, but the pain, the despair and sorrow of each dragged at my soul as though I were reliving each for the first time. ¡°.. So.. phia..¡± The hoarse whisper that escaped my lips as I collapsed against the Gates of Oblivion was hard to distinguish from a prayer or an oath. Oh, the memories. The sweet pain, the infinite sorrow, bitter regret. Maybe she¡¯d been right. It was just too much for any one soul to bear. For the first time in years, decades, I felt moisture pooling around the corners of my eyes. Tears? *So close..* I could no longer feel my hands. The edges of my vision were contracting into a red haze, and I could only grind my head uselessly against the cold, indifferent surface of the Gate. ¡°.. So.. ph..¡± And suddenly, I was falling, tumbling forward uncontrollably in a limp pile of abused flesh and bones. But.. I was falling forward. Through the.. *Ttirring!*
Congratulations! Your Talent "Stubborn Mule" has reached rank F level 2.
Congratulations! You have successfully completed the quest: ¡°The Journey to Oblivion, and Beyond.¡±
[a]
The Journey to Oblivion, and Beyond Difficulty: S
Description: As ages come and go, empires rise and fall, and worlds are born and die, legend becomes myth. One such are the tales of the Gates of Oblivion. Each soul must be tempered by its trials. Only then will the Keeper of the Gates unlock the doors to the next cycle, where the soul may rejoin the endless circle of life and death. Goals:
  • Shed the chains of the past.
  • Bear the chains of the past.
  • Cleanse your soul.
  • Pass through the Gates of Oblivion
The Keeper of the Gates of Oblivion bids you welcome, and grants you permission to pass through to Oblivion, thus shedding the burdens of your former life as you step into the final stage of the Ritual of Rebirth. Aeterna awaits beyond the Gates![/b]
  • Must be wearing the Robes of Rebirth.
  • Restricted to newly forged souls.
  • Must shed chains of the past to forge soul anew
  • Embrace your sins and forge a flawed soul.
Quest Rewards:
  • 0 Exp gained.
  • 1000 Fame gained.
  • 5 Soul Points gained.
  • Enter Aeterna.
  • Achieved status: Reborn - Newly Soulbound
  • Special Reward: Blessing of the Keeper.
  • Special Reward: New Trait Acquired: ¡°Relentless¡±
  • Special Reward: New Trait Acquired: ¡°Flawed Soul¡±
[b]
¡°Wha.. what?¡± An S-ranked quest, all of a sudden? How? Why? I was sure I had failed. As I slowly lifted my head, I felt the cool kiss of metal against my forehead. Reaching up with a tremulous hand to touch it, I realized in wonder that it was the final chain. ¡°But.. I couldn¡¯t.. didn¡¯t remove it..¡± The soft touch of a hand against my cheek spread warmth against the intense cold wracking my body. I looked up to find Selendra kneeling next to me, her gaze holding my eyes. Her other hand gently coiled the remaining length of the last chain onto my upturned hand. Satisfied, she nodded solemnly to me. ¡°Though it is flawed, you have a great, precious soul, Lord Seth. It has been a most gratifying experience to witness the forging of your soul. I thank you for the instruction. Now go forth with my blessing. I do not give it lightly, and it shall give you much needed aid in the dark days to come.¡± ¡°S.. Selendra.. I..¡± ¡°Farewell, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°Wa.. wait. Will we meet again?¡± For the first time, there was something like the twinkling of mischievousness in her eyes as she smiled back at me. Wait, had that been a wink? It couldn¡¯t possibly.. Then she was all serene grace once more. I felt darkness swallow me, and for once I did not give a damn where it spat me back out. Or whether it did at all. Victory. The first of many. Aeterna, here I come. The Ultima Deus, the Last God, the God to end all Gods. I am come.
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Chapter 4 - The Lad and the Mutt Chapter 4 - The Lad and the Mutt The Ultima Deus, the Last God, the Godslayer.. that is to say, me.. well, I lay crumpled in a tangled heap of twitching limbs as some mutt sniffed at my crotch. Damn big mutt, at that. ¡°.. L.. Leav..¡± I had no breath for anything else. I couldn¡¯t remember much from the voyage here, but the landing had certainly made its impact felt - via blunt force trauma. After quietly basking in the afterglow of my hard-won first victory in Aeterna, I had opened my eyes to find myself descending with alarming alacrity towards the ground below. The villagers around me had barely twitched an eyebrow as I had crashed with a spine-wrenching THUD, raising plumes of dust all around me. Must be some local rite of passage. Mercifully, the mutt finally desisted from its inspection of my privates. Then, abject horror as I stared in helpless, dawning comprehension of what was about to happen. ¡°.. Ww¡­ Wai..¡± My threatening growl died before it reached my lips. Nothing but a wheeze escaped my parched throat. An instant later, I was no longer feeling parched at all, as a thick stream of yellow liquid splashed against my pants. Then stopped. Then resumed. Stopped. Then one last spurt. It was warm, and I thought I could detect a trace of saltiness in the air. Damn it. Ever the pragmatist, I endeavoured with the last desperate dregs of my useless dignity to burn the image of this damn mutt in my memory. Oh the pain I would visit upon this hapless creature.. ¡°Reaver! I told you not to do that to people!¡± called a youthful voice from somewhere outside of my vision. Moments later, a boy came dashing around the corner, obviously out of breath. He lunged forward and snatched at the collar of Reaver, who sat grinning at me in all its toothy glory. Did I say grinning? More like gloating. Damn fleabag, the next time I see you.. ¡°When will you learn, you dummy!¡± The boy cuffed the huge beast on the head. That gave me pause. Reaver easily towered over the boy, and outmassed him by at least twice, probably thrice as much muscle. The kid looked to be 11 or 12, and pretty scrawny for that age, even. His grimy face was one of almost comical disapproval as he scolded his.. pet? Given the size mismatch, I hesitated. Anyone would have trouble figuring out who the owner and pet was in this particular duo. Fortunately, Reaver didn¡¯t chomp down on the offending hand. Or head. Or any body part, for that matter. Instead it slumped down, its huge shoulders sagging while it whined plaintively. ¡°You deserve it. I told you, no marking of pack with strangers. Especially not people! When will you learn that..¡± ¡°Ahem.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± The boy turned around to face me, and I thought I might have been off by a year or two. On the high side. What was a 9 year old kid doing with the biggest damn mutt I¡¯ve ever come across in my life? ¡°I¡¯m so sorry mister. I truly am. Please forgive us. Reaver didn¡¯t mean any harm. He just has this bad habit of.. umm.. marking anyone he really likes as part of his pack.¡± He gestured vaguely towards my damp clothes. ¡°Um. Please, please forgive us Mister. Reaver, you apologize too!¡± Two tiny hands were suddenly struggling with the impossible task of mobilizing a mountain of furry beast that would obviously not go or do anything it did not damn please. Hey, I wasn''t about to argue with it. Surprisingly, Reaver did a fairly good interpretation of a contrite, apologetic bark, then hung his head while looking at me with big moony eyes. Well, I''ll be damned. I could almost hear the words, "I''se be sowwwy mashtah." Ahem, I''m sorely out of touch with my dog language skills. On any other dog, it might have worked. With this damn huge beast - who was sporting a fairly sinister looking eye-patch to boot! - it merely looked like he was sizing me up for dinner. Just as the appetizer too. Who knew how many horses a beast like that needed a day. Hell, make that per meal. This was the last thing I needed. Since I still couldn¡¯t vocalize properly, I mustered as much dignity as I could - which was damn hard considering the fact that I still lay sprawled on the ground with my limbs splayed about me - and graciously nodded my acquiescence. Full pardon granted. Now boot it kid. And don¡¯t forget the damn mutt. Bright kid, he got the message and beamed at me with huge eyes. ¡°Thanks mister! You¡¯re the best! If ever you need someone to show you around the area, just look me up. My name¡¯s..¡± ¡°SOOOOLLLL!¡± Came the bellow of a deep voice from down another alley. ¡°Where are you? And where is that cursed spawn of hell of yours? I swear, this time I¡¯ll..¡± From the rapidly wilting expression of the boy and the aggrieved whining coming from the very aptly characterized "cursed spawn of hell", I could safely assume this was indeed Sol. ¡°Umm, gotta run Mister. I¡¯m Sol. Look me up sometime, alright? Oh, and.. thanks again. Here, you can have this.¡±
You have received a moldy piece of bread
Reaver didn''t miss his cue either. I could do nothing but splutter my outrage as his rough tongue repeatedly ran up and down my face, leaving a disgustingly thick layer of dog saliva coating every inch of it. I actually had to snort hard through my nose to unblock it, otherwise I would have asphyxiated. As it was, I could hardly draw a breath without tasting dog and.. whatever unnameable thing had been its last meal. When my vision cleared enough that I could distinguish vague figures and shapes through the dog drool half-blinding me, I got an up and close look at Reaver''s big ugly mug grinning delightedly at me. "Woof woof!" Sitting back on his haunches, he was wagging his tail frantically while nuzzling my chest with his snout. "Aww he really likes you Mister! C''mon boy, lets go!" "Woof!" ¡°SOOOOOLLLLLLLL!¡± came the bellow once again, this time closer. But Sol had already turned away and taken off at a dead run. As soon as I had a full view of his retreating figure, I couldn¡¯t help but stare at what bounced up and down on Sol¡¯s back as he effortlessly tumbled and pirouetted his way past crates, goats and people alike. Strapped loosely to his back was the biggest damn sword I¡¯ve ever seen in my life. It was probably taller than the boy, a good five feet in length or more, and if the sheath was anything to go by, the blade was wider than the boy¡¯s own legs. Crazy kid. Crazy dog. Crazy sword. Not messing around with that trio. And just like that, Sol was gone, nimbly dodging through the bustle of the square and disappearing into the crowd. ¡°Sniff sniff.. what is that stench..¡± ¡°.. Ugh, lost my appetite..¡± ¡°.. Damn beggars, no decency.. look at that guy, he just crapped in his own pants..¡± I was about to challenge the veracity of that last comment, but then I simply let out a defeated sigh. Why bother? And so passed the first breaths of Seth the self-styled Godslayer upon the surface of Aeterna. Buried in a dusty corner of a shanty town full of tents, bleating goats and drooling dogs. Oh, don¡¯t forget the fleas. No, too many of those to forget. Or count. At this rate, it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if.. *Bleep*
Alert! Starved Colony of Fleas is leeching your blood away
Your HP has gone down by 1 point!
Current HP:3 / 4
GOD DAMMMMMMMIT. God damn fleas, god damn pisswater shanty town, and god damn pissing dog.. and everything else, to boot. ¡°St.. Status Information¡± *Diiing*
You are currently being attacked by Starved Colony of Fleas.
You are currently afflicted by Soul Diffusion.
Also.. you are urgently in need of a bath. No, really. Not kidding.
¡°In.. information, Soul Diffusion.¡± *Diiiing*
Soul Diffusion:
An extremely rare detrimental status condition that afflicts users who have recently sustained severe soul manipulation. This debuff freezes HP and Mana regeneration, and all stamina points are consumed until the duration of the effect has expired and soul restoration has taken place. Time remaining until soul restoration: 193 minutes.
¡°...¡± Taking a deep breath, I decided to cut my losses and simply make the best possible use of my time. First of all, the spoils of victory! I had noticed at the very last second that the quest I had completed had changed from a difficulty of ¡°D¡± to ¡°S¡±. I would not dispute that. Damn near tore my soul in half pulling that stunt off. Accordingly, I was expecting some incredibly rare or valuable rewards. ¡°First, lets see how much of an ass I¡¯m being.¡± ¡°Trait Information: Stubborn Mule.¡± Diiing
Talent Name:Talent Rank:Talent Level:Talent Experience:
Stubborn MuleF298%
The mighty God of Rebirth, Judge of the Dead and Forger of Souls has granted you this special talent. Even in the face of all logic or reason, though oceans crash upon your shoulders and storms flail at your sides, you remain stalwart, an unmovable object, an unstoppable force. You are the stubborn mule. Strength +2 Agility +2 Vitality +4 Intelligence -2 Wisdom -2 Leadership +2 Luck +4 Resistance to charm, fear or other mind control effects +110%. Resistance to bind, stun, knockdown, and other forms of crowd control +110% P.S. Now you really are an ass. Enjoy~! - Enma-sama.
¡°Excellent." And it was. I was very well pleased with how much of an ass I''ve made of myself thus far. Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. "Next up, Trait Information: Relentless.¡±
Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
RelentlessF199%
Drop by drop, as measured in a heartbeat, or extended to infinity, eventually all shall crumble under its weight. In the grand scheme of things, in the divine symphony of creation, there exists no power more indomitable, more inconquerable, more unstoppable, than the simple drop upon drop of compound interest. Actions gain a small bonus upon immediate reiteration. Each identical iteration cumulatively compounds the benefits of this trait. Current Bonus: Insignificant.
¡°Woa. Jackpot!¡± I could imagine countless benefits for this trait. If each time I repeat the exact same task I gain a bonus that stacks.. well, infinitely.. that just seems ridiculously broken. There must be a catch somewhere. Maybe the fact that the bonus is "Insignificant" for now. Maybe if I rank it up that will increase? I can''t wait to test it out in the field. Next.. ¡°Information: Blessing of the Keeper.¡±
Blessing of the Keeper
An exceedingly precious gift. ???
¡°Figures.. aw well, next.¡± ¡°Trait Information: ¡°Flawed Soul.¡±
Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
Flawed SoulF199%
All souls are equal before the tribunal of the gods. As fate weaves, measures and cuts, only the truly damned find no shelter from the storms of ages. Thus, they remain a broken vessel, wandering Aeterna in a neverending quest, seeking in vain what they can never possess. ???
¡° Well, that didn¡¯t help at all. Maybe I need to rank it up? If only I knew how. At the very least, I hope I never have to deal with this diffusion BS again.¡± ¡°Status Window.¡± Diiing
Status Window
Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
Level:1Class:Scholar
Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
Gender:MaleTalent:Stubborn Mule
Traits
Flawed Soul Relentless Paranoid Survivalist
Fame:1000Infamy:0
-
Health:3 / 4Soul:5
Mana:24 / 24????
Stamina:5 / 5????
-
Strenght:4Agility:4
Vitality:6
Intelligence:8Wisdom:8
Charisma:4Luck:9
-
Attack:2Defense:2
Physical Resistances
Slashing:0Piercing:0
Crushing:0
Elemental Resistances
Fire:0Water:0
Wind:0Earth:0
Light:0Darkness:0
This was.. pathetic. 5 Stamina? 4 Health? A bunch of mana I couldn''t even use. It also dawned on me that without the benefits of "Stubborn Mule", my physical stats would have been even lower. Unbelievable. No wonder Scholars were such an unpopular class. The information I''d gathered had been sketchy at best, but I had decided to take gamble. I still wasn''t sure if it would pay off, but for now I would just have to make the best of the cards I''d been dealt. I also noticed that I had 1000 fame. That seemed rather high, but no one seemed to recognize me. Maybe once I got to my feet..? Slowly, feeling leaked back into my limbs. By the time I could finally breathe normally and stand, the urine stink had thoroughly permeated into every nook and cranny of my precious starting equipment set. It was a stench so foul that I even had a few passersby draw precious water from the well nearby in order to dump it on my prone figure, probably hoping it¡¯d mask the miasma somewhat. I wasn¡¯t sure whether I should be offended or grateful. Probably both. At least the water had gotten rid of the fleas. Probably off to find less water-sogged prey to suck blood from. I could certainly sympathize, as I felt thoroughly miserable. Then again, at least I had my soul. My whole soul, that is, no matter what this stupid VR told me. If I¡¯m flawed, then it is the flaw that defines humanity to its core. Perfect bliss? Pweeeease. I snorted loudly, and some of the women sitting near me discreetly gathered their belongings and scooted away while tossing misgiving glances my way. ".. Junkies all over the place now.." ".. Hope that''s not catching.." Well, no matter. Alright. time to enact the first steps of my plan to slay all the gods and visit terrible vengeance upon the hapless denizens of this world. A feral grin escaped my lips. Yes, sweet, sweet vengeance. The only salve that could soothe the fierce burning within my soul. However.. ¡°Quest? Get away from me, beggar!¡± ¡°Your stink is driving me mad! Off with you before I set the dogs on you!¡± ¡°Trust you with my precious message? Hah, I wasn¡¯t born yesterday. Better luck finding some gullible fool to rob blind.¡± Scowling darkly, I looked down at my outfit. It was the standard starting outfit for the Scholar class, alright. However, not only did scholars find no traction or garner any respect from the tough, stringy warriors and hunters in the Arioch Wastelands, but my robes were dusty and smeared with soil and offal, not to mention the unnameable stench constantly wafting from them. This was proving to be an unexpectedly big obstacle. My vaunted 1000 fame was doing me exactly zero good. No matter. I''d crawled me way out of deeper pits than this. Scratching my chin, I realized I need to adjust my grand scheme slightly to the new situations on the ground. Happened all the time as a field commander once battle was joined. And just as I was formulating a plan to enact my original plan.. "NO! Please! Don''t do it! STOP!" It was a voice I recognized from earlier. Sol. I could hear also hear the sounds of what could be muffled snarls. Reaver. "Damn mutt, finally got what it deserved," I muttered darkly. "Please, I beg you." Against my better judgment, I straightened my rumpled robes of the hallowed order of the Scholars of Ancient History turned babysitters and animal control therapists. Hey, I even had the signature urine stain. Authentic stench and all. "Please. Anyone - HELP!" My steps quickened as I followed Sol''s voice. Help was on the way, little fellow. As I drew nearer, a cold, deadpan voice muttered something inside my head - I''d like to say it was the voice of reason, who always seemed to take perverse pleasure in choosing the worst times to point out the obvious, "And who''s gonna help us?"
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Chapter 5 - First Blood Chapter 5 - First Blood Striding purposefully in the direction of Sol¡¯s voice, I took the opportunity to do a quick evaluation of my condition, as well as my armament. The fact that it only took me about 5 seconds was rather depressing. The Scholar¡¯s starting set was far from ideal. It consisted of a lightweight robe of some scratchy fabric ¨C probably cheap cotton. It included a truly confounding number of pockets, which to the average scholarly-minded fellow might have been a god-send. You can never have too many pockets when you¡¯re eyeball deep in scrolls and potions. However, to a frugal, combat-minded man such as myself, it was a nightmare of appalling bulk and awkward weight distribution. And, that was it. No plate, half-plate, cuirass, boiled leather vest, cloak, cape.. hell, not even a flimsy token leather cap, for crying out loud. Nada. An itchy robe, some woolen socks and cheap leather boots which were starting to pinch my toes already. On a simple 5-mile march, the blisters would probably swell up like the Vesuvius, requiring lancing before they burst and became a real bastard to deal with. Oh, and no weapons. I had some strange kind of knapsack which hung from my neck. The insides looked thoughtfully designed to hold several scrolls or vials, neatly compartmentalized. Nowhere to even stow a weapon, even a humble 6-inch utility knife. Hadn¡¯t these nerds even heard of something called concealed carry? At least, I mulled in the back of my mind, I still had my trusty rock. Fat lot of comfort that was. Well, to be honest, feeling the weight of it in one of the larger pockets of my robe WAS of some comfort. Logically speaking, I could have stopped by to pick up a sturdy branch or stick, which would serve as a poor man¡¯s truncheon. However, I refrained. I had the strangest feeling that I absolutely did not want to part with it. I suppose it might have something to do with the fact that it stood as the sole witness of my one moment of fame and glory in this whole blasted world. And who knew, perhaps the fact that it had materialized along with me from the world of souls ¨C or whatever it was called ¨C gave it a magical mojo of some kind. One can always hope, right? As I rounded one final corner and caught sight of Sol, I pushed all other thoughts aside and put my game face on. Time to wreck some havoc. Finally. Ever since I¡¯d been a youth, I¡¯d never been entirely successful at curving my more violent impulses. The fact that I never even tried probably had something to do with that. I¡¯d always been a problem child, which put old Gramps through hell. So much so, that I figured the best favor I could do the old man ¨C the only family I had left in the world ¨C was enlisting in the core as soon as I reached the eligibility age. Whether Gramps himself agreed or not, that was another matter entirely. In any case, I¡¯d been born for the game. A high stakes game, but a game nonetheless. And I always played to win. You know those school bullies that surround the class nerd to shake him down for some change to use at the arcade or the vending machine? Well, I was not one of those guys. I was the maniacally cackling demon-spawn spraying blood left and right as I pounded every one of them wanna-be bullies into the ground. Then stomped their faces till the only sound that could be heard was their sobbing pleas for someone, anyone to come and save them. Hey, to be fair, likely more than half of that blood was my own. In any case, my troubled childhood led into an adulthood where I had developed the confidence to walk into a room, any room, and stare everyone down because I had the absolute knowledge ¨C not cocky self-assurance, mind you, but a deep-seated, rock-steady, stake-my-life-on-it kind of certainty ¨C that I was the toughest, roughest, meanest bastard in the room. Old habits die hard, and in this case they served me well. I saw 6 adults, of which only four were used to any kind of physical activity at all. Three were busy struggling to hold down a snarling, blood-matted storm of fur and claws. Reaver. I could see from my cursory examination that he hadn¡¯t gone down without a fight ¨C most of the men had flesh wounds, and one of them was still bleeding profusely - but it was over now. Three of the men were holding him down using long wooden poles that ended in nasty looking iron hoops ringed with spikes on the inside. I could see fresh blood spurting from where they pressed against Reaver¡¯s neck, and though he didn¡¯t look as though he was ready to surrender quite yet, another had already placed some sort of leather muzzle on his head and was hastily tightening the straps. My eyebrows rose in spite of myself. Three grown men just to hold him down. He was a fighter, that tough bastard. My kind of company. The other two men would have been identified as merchants by any other people. Not to me, however. Oh no, I was used to dealing with scum like them. Some things never change, whether on Earth or Aeterna. Always some playground bully trying to put the squeeze on an easy target. One of them ¨C a bucktoothed, rat-faced fellow with thin shoulders and mean, squinting eyes - was cruelly hauling Sol to his feet by his hair, eliciting a sharp cry of pain. The other, a rotund man wearing fancier clothes than the rest, was rubbing one of his knuckles. Glancing back to Sol, I could see one of his cheeks was scuffed and darkening with a bruise. ¡°Told you to be quiet. That beast has caused me enough grief. Well, no more! I finally have all the witnesses I need,¡± he sneered at the fellow holding Sol, rat-face. Right on cue, rat-face chimed in, ¡°Oh yes, I saw him drag one of Fat Bar.. err.. Mr. Barik¡¯s goats by the neck behind a tent. Never saw it again, but there was blood on that beast¡¯s nuzzle.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true! Reaver would never..!¡± The rest was cut off as the fat man raised his hand threateningly. Chuckling at the cringing Sol, he lowered his hand to cup Sol¡¯s chin and look into his eyes. ¡°No other witnesses, and you¡¯re a minor without a guardian. Tribal law says if you can¡¯t pay me back for the loss, you and everything you own are mine to dispose of as I please. Well, I¡¯m not pleased. I doubt you have anything of value except for that lump of iron on your back, but you¡¯ll fetch a good enough price on the slave market.¡± Sol was sniveling pitifully, ¡°Guu.. I¡¯ll do any.. anything. P.. please, at least.. at least spare Reaver. He¡¯s my only family..¡± ¡°Hah!¡± Interrupted Barik. ¡°Not a chance. Maybe they¡¯ll be willing to buy some more beasts for the arena. I hear they always need fodder for the Sand Tigers.¡± ¡°NO! You can¡¯t!¡± came Sol¡¯s agonized cry. I had seen enough. Ideally, I would have preferred to fight on ground of my choosing, but my vision was already turning red and I was on autopilot. You know, I retract myself on the whole rock vs wooden club debate. A nice sturdy stick, like the wooden handle of the broom someone had kindly and very conveniently left leaning against a nearby wall would do wonders to improve my mood. Can¡¯t speak for the person on the other end, however. I went through a mental tally of my opponents and the optimal order to follow in delivering a beatdown with the utmost efficiency. I had no time to waste against low-rent trash like these. Let¡¯s see. Trash. Trash. Trash. Rat-faced trash. Fat trash. Ho. That last fellow, with the nasty scar running down one cheek and hair gathered in a ponytail. He didn¡¯t look like much at a passing glance, but his center of gravity was perfectly placed, ready to move in any direction at any moment. Yeah, he had dangerous eyes, that one. Wordlessly, I moved behind one of the men holding Reaver down, directly opposite from scar-face. He¡¯d go down last. Scar-face noticed me as soon as I drew close enough to pose a threat, but couldn¡¯t reach me in time. The others noticed me about two seconds too late to do anything about it. One of the men standing opposite to me followed Scar-face¡¯s eyes and frowned at me. ¡°Hey, what are yo..¡± The hoodlum nearest to me started to turn his head in order to see what his comrade was frowning at. Couldn¡¯t have timed it better if he¡¯d tried. You know, before I got fed up with all the holier-than-thou attitude of upperclassmen in my middle school baseball team and gotten permanently banned for crushing their collective up-turned noses, I had been scouted as quite the talent with a bat in my hand. See, I always swing for the fence. *BLAM* Splinters flew in all directions as my two-handed swing neatly intercepted, then reversed the poor devil¡¯s turning motion. He wobbled crazily for a couple heartbeats, but just as I raised my shattered makeshift baseball bat for another crack at a homerun,, his eyes rolled up in his head and he obligingly collapsed on the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. ¡°What the..?!¡± ¡°Zayed..!¡± ¡°Damn..¡± ¡°Mister? Be careful!¡± ¡°Get him!¡± That last command was shouted by Tarik himself, and two more challengers stepped up to the plate. One of them was rat-face, who had drawn a thin dagger from his belt. The other was the guy who had just finished securing the muzzle on Reaver. Since the latter was still unarmed and within a short stride away, I flipped the remains of the ruined broom at Rat-face. Couldn¡¯t do any real harm, but he flinched and ducked. Excellent. That bought me plenty of time to finish off my next victim. I feinted left, and the sucker bought it. As he lifted his arms to block a straight I¡¯d never intended to deliver, I launched into an explosive overhand hook, stepping so far inside my opponent¡¯s guard that I could almost feel his breath on the back of my neck. I deftly executed the smooth, graceful twist of the hips, carrying all the momentum up from my legs, and into my arm, which would descend like the hammer of the gods to shatter his chin into a thousand pieces. CRACK I heard the bone break, and I could almost feel sorry for the guy. ¡°What the..?¡± I heard him mumble, and that was the first sign that something was seriously wrong. The guy that was supposed to be sailing through the air to land 6 feet behind with a mild concussion was still standing here, right in front of me. He shouldn¡¯t have been able to utter any words other than maybe a strangled croak. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the guy I¡¯d grand slammed into kingdom come slowly getting to his feet and dusting himself off. What the hell? Were these guys zombies in some cheap indie flick? And then the pain hit me. It was like someone had shoved my entire arm into a bed of red hot coals. I cried out involuntarily, and it was a wonder that I did not pass out right then and there. What the hell? Hands roughly grabbed me by the collar, then tried to shove me back. Bad idea to let an opponent create enough room to swing a weapon or fist when you¡¯re entering shock from the pain, leaving you completely defenseless. I was too experienced to make such a rookie mistake, however. I dug my feet in, and twisted my neck in a smooth jerking motion that should leave him overbalanced for a precious moment while I gathered my wits. Only, it didn¡¯t. Instead I was effortlessly launched through the air to land in a messy pile of jumbled limbs and.. wait, was that blood? Propping myself up dizzily on one elbow, I lifted my right hand and stared dumbly. It was bent at an unnatural angle, and blood was pumping furiously from the spot where a jagged bone had ruptured the skin. *BLEEP*
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What. The. Hell. I was still staring dumbly at the hand that had betrayed me when hands roughly grabbed me by the hair, lifting me off the ground. I just couldn¡¯t believe it. ¡°Get up, you piece of shit!¡± ¡°Gahahah, did you see that? Pulped his own hand, poor bastard..¡± ¡°Some hero he turned out to be..¡± ¡°I tell you, you can¡¯t make up this shit.¡± They guffawed and hollered at my expense as the guy I¡¯d broken my wrist on dragged me by the hair, leading me towards Tarik. With his other hand he scratched idly at his chin. That wouldn¡¯t even leave a bruise. I could hear the panicked cries of Sol and Reaver¡¯s snarls intensifying as the sounds of paws clawing at dirt and men grunting in effort grew louder. I was simply stupefied. I had executed a perfect overhand hook, one I had used time and time again to break chins, dislocate jaws, knock molars out, you name it. There was no way I¡¯d miss the point of impact or land the blow with a crooked wrist. ¡°Damn, scared me shitless for a second there..¡± muttered a voice darkly, and a quick glance to one side showed the first guy I¡¯d knocked senseless.. only he hadn¡¯t been. There was hardly even a mark on him, except for the dust on his face. ¡°Puhahah, you got spooked and fainted like a little girl, didn¡¯t you?¡± accused one of this fellows. ¡°S.. shut up! I just slipped trying to duck the blow!¡± he snarled back, but he was a bad liar. ¡°Mister! Don¡¯t let them catch you!¡± Sol lay on his knees, fat tears streaming down his face. ¡°All of you, shut up! Bring him here,¡± Tarik ground out, glaring at me menacingly. As the bravo holding me complied, I noticed rat-face grinning wickedly and fiddling with his dagger. Maybe it was supposed to look intimidating, the prospect of having your guts riddled with holes. However, by my standards that puny little thing hardly qualified as a toothpick. Besides, I was still busy just trying to comprehend what had just gone down. ¡°Now, you have 10 seconds to tell me who you are, before I let Quigs here play house with your guts.¡± Everyone chorused in with the typical, obligatory evil minion laugh after the villain delivers cheesy villain-like threats. Or rather, not everyone. I noticed Scar-face watching me intently with narrowed eyes. He tilted his head sideways as though he were looking at a mismatched jigsaw puzzle he couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of. Then I had other things to worry about. ¡°Arrrgh!¡± I gritted my teeth against the pain as Tarik mercilessly pulled me closer by my broken wrist and twisted. Stars swam across my vision as my pain receptors overloaded. I heard more cries of protest from Sol, ending in a sharp thud of flesh meeting bone and a sharp cry. Then subdued sobs. ¡°Do I have your attention yet?¡± As soon as I had my breath back, I did the only reasonable thing. I hawked and spit right in his eye. Bullseye! As he flinched involuntarily, I stamped my heel on the toes of the guy holding me from behind, then nailed him with a stiff elbow straight to his solar plexus. A muffled grunt and the sharp exhalation of air told me his diaphragm would be contracting reflexively for the next 20 seconds or so, giving him a lot better things to worry about than holding on to a guy with a broken wrist. Thusly, I celebrated my newly acquired freedom by stepping into the still-reeling Tarik and delivered a vicious headbutt to his nose. If delivered properly, a good headbutt can end most any fight right then and there. Even if the other party doesn¡¯t pass out in virtue of a particularly thick skull, a broken nose hurts like a bitch. Besides, you can hardly swing your fists when you can¡¯t see what you¡¯re trying to hit in the first place because your eyes just won¡¯t stop tearing up and spoiling your vision. Of course, I¡¯d forgotten I was still trapped in the cheap indie zombie flick. My headbutt was successful in stunning only one person: Me. Tarik stumbled back a couple paces, then bellowed in rage as he drew a dagger from belt and brandished it against me. An quick glance at his grip told me he had likely never even gutted so much as a fish. I had to force myself not to grin. Wouldn''t do to spoil the surprise when I sidestepped the telegraphed thrust, then shook the knife from his fingers, reversed its grip and painted a nice smiley face in bright crimson across his throat. Yeah, come to papa. Then someone decided to crash my party. Arms wrapped themselves around me from behind. Hell, not again. So, struggling to gasp in a breath guy wasn''t really struggling at all, and he had me. I knew it the moment he locked his hands in front of my chest. I couldn''t even make him budge! Just how weak was this damn body? I returned my eyes up front to see Taric snarling and spitting pure hatred as he thrust his dagger toward me, aiming for my heart. The cretin. Knives are for cutting or lancing soft tissue. You avoid the chest area because they''re liable to get deflected or worse, stuck on a rib. Then your opponent could calmly wrench it out and slaughter you with your own weapon. I wish I could tell him all of that, but it didn''t look like it''d do me any good just now. After one last desperate struggle, I managed to wriggle one of my arms enough that I could reach inside of my pocket, where I desperately fumbled for.. you guessed, the rock. There! My blind groping about yielded a hard object. Without a second''s hesitation, I pulled it out and I swung it blindly over my shoulder, hoping to nail the guy behind me in the eye or nose. From this angle, I couldn''t get enough leverage to crack his skull. All I could hope was to cause enough pain that his grip would loosen. Hey, if I got lucky enough, maybe I could get the fat boar charging at me to plow straight through his own minion. Then three things happened almost simultaneously. First, though the feedback was all wrong, the grip did loosen, for which I was infinitely grateful. Second, I cocked my hand back and threw the rock at Taric''s looming face. It was a big target, and I did not miss. I did mention being scouted in middle school, right? Third, and this is the bitch of it all, what hit Taric square in the face was not a rock made of solid granite, hard enough to stave his pudgy nose in. It was a book. A goddamn book. I could see it in almost comical slow motion as it sped towards its intended target. It flew open on the way, as if to show me the beautifully worked leather of its cover, inlaid in gold gilt. It was gorgeous, probably the most elegant, meticulously crafted tome I''d ever laid my eyes on. And absolutely useless to me at the moment. Case in point, it smacked Taric in the mouth.. open-face first. It made an impressive WHACK sound, but that was about it. It hadn''t even landed edge-first. Taric paused for a moment to look down at his feet incredulously. I did likewise. I think everyone must have. His thoughts likely mirrowed my own perfectly. What the hell?! A book? A BOOK? Of all the.. HAHAHAH The only real difference was that inside Taric''s head, the laughter must have been half relief at it being such an innocuous missile, half hysteria at the very idea of some stupid bastard throwing a book in a desperate last ditch attempt to fend off an assailant. Mine was plain, simple, black despair. The sort you would hear ring hollowly out of someone who had flicked the light switch on in his house and watched the whole damn world blow up and rain down in flaming debris at his feet. Yeah, that kind of laughter. I almost didn''t notice the arms once again tightening around me, holding me still. Taric grimly resumed his advance towards me, then let out a gloating cry of triumph as he raised his dagger high above me. I could see it coming, but somehow my body refused to respond. It felt like one of those nightmares where you see everything around you moving in slow motion. You feel as though you¡¯re trapped in jello, and you wait for an agonizing lifetime as you watch inevitability thrusting down. The blade stopped a scant two inches from my eyeball. The tip hovered there, trembling. Somehow, Scar-face had managed to step between myself and the dagger. His hand had a firm hold of Tarik¡¯s arm, and though the latter was obviously trying to plunge the tip the last couple inches, he might as well have been trying to muscle a mountain out of the way. ¡°Enough,¡± Scar-face said tonelessly. ¡°You swore there would be no deaths today, and that was the only reason I have allowed it. Go any further, fat worm, and you will incur in my wrath.¡± The absolute lack of any emotion, be it anger or outrage, lent his words far more momentum than they might have had otherwise, outnumbered as he was. After a brief moment of hesitation, Tarik snarled. ¡°Fine, have it your way. But mark my words, Jae¡¯thun. I will remember this.¡± A sound like what I imagined a lion might produce when confronted with an angry, squeaking mouse, escaped Jae¡¯thun¡¯s throat, then his lips stretched into a humorless parody of a smile. ¡°You know where to find me, worm.¡± Of course, the mouse immediately averted his eyes from the lion¡¯s gaze. It is the natural order of things. The strong rule over the weak. The latter of which included me, in this case. This was further demonstrated when Tarik flicked his head towards me, and a sharp blow to the back of my head had me seeing stars once again, only sound started to fade along with sight this time. "Hey, check this out." Someone, couldn''t tell whom, had taken hold of my book. "Woa.. no way.." another voice chimed in. "Hey everyone, take a look at this!" There was real excitement in his voice. "Hah, that''s rich!" My rock-turned-book. Damn, probably a relic of potent magic taken from the very caves of the Mists of Serenity. Somehow, it had survived the passage through the Gates of Oblivion, and here it would be stolen away from me by those trash, easy as you please. Like taking candy from a babe. And then.. "Mister.." The last thing I remember seeing as my body slumped to the ground and darkness rose up to swallow me, was that of the men retreating with Sol in tow. I would never forget his eyes, watching me resolutely through the tears that flooded them. For some reason, I knew they were tears, not of despair or rage, but rather those of heartfelt gratitude. Because even though I had failed, and had done so most spectacularly, I had still tried. I had fought for him, and that was enough for him. Fists I could not remember balling up reached for Sol, but it was far too late. I was losing consciousness. Whether from loss of blood or shock, it mattered little. I was dying, and Sol.. Sol was lost. My mind howled in impotent rage, and only hollow darkness echoed back.
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Chapter 6 - No Man Left Behind Chapter 6 ¨C No Man Left Behind ¡°No man left behind,¡± I whispered to myself, mouthing the words without really speaking them. Sunlight danced in a myriad different colors as it spread out onto the valley below, showing me the breathtaking vista I¡¯d been waiting for the whole night, ignoring the knife-edged jabs of the arctic wind and subzero temperatures. Slowly and without taking my eye off the scope, I relaxed the finger that had been squeezing the trigger in a death grip until I felt the minuscule CLICK that told me the firing mechanism had been safely disengaged. I groped around blindly with my other hand until I found a handful of snow that wasn¡¯t frozen solid and scooped up it up gingerly. With the same deliberate movements, not too fast, not too slow, and therefore the least likely to draw the eyes of enemy snipers, surveillance satellites and reconnaissance bots, I brought my hand up to my mouth and took a small bite off the icy snow. I shuddered involuntarily. It was cold, and my body was already teetering over the edge of hypothermia. I was no longer shivering, which was a very bad sign. It meant my body no longer had enough calories to fight off the wind howling in my ears. My supply kit lay discarded a good 9 miles back over the rocky mountain tops, along with the rest of my squad. Or what was left of them, in any case. As usual, I had been the only survivor. Officially, that is. In truth, there had been one other survivor. Alan. My best friend. Likely the only friend worth calling such in all the time I¡¯d spent in the Special Forces. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, struggling to control my breathing. If my hand began to shake now, I would never be able to recover in time to take the shot. Yet another storm front was moving in. I could see the massive flurries of snow flying in dazzling patterns that were as beautiful as they were deadly. I would not survive another blizzard. Glancing down at the HUD display imbedded in my cornea, the low battery warning icon insistently reminded me I now only had 4% power left. I had diverted all life-support and backup power to the jamming device that masked my body¡¯s bio-electromagnetic signature. Without it, enemy laser cannon emplacements would pick me off within 15 seconds and vaporize me faster than you could say, ¡°Massive Heat Energy Displacement Phenomenon¡±. This meant I had no life support, no augmented vision, no pulse-breathing regulatory system, no wind-speed adjustment vector, and no Coriolis effect compensation algorithm. It was just me and good old Katherine ¨C my modified VSS 625. Cal kinetic pulse rifle. I could put a hole through an orange-sized, 1-foot thick reinforced steel plate target ranging at over 1.5 miles using Titanium-coated depleted Uranium shells for maximum drag reduction and optimal kinetic acceleration. I didn¡¯t need to open my eyes to know that the range finder on my scope would be blinking red, warning me the target lay an impossible 2.4 miles away. At that sort of distance, the odds of hitting a target with any decent chance of success were astronomically low even with every cybernetic implant and assisted aiming gadget I could bring to bear to eke out an edge. Which I did not have. Just me, Katherine, and the eerie calm of the windswept mountain top. I knew a pocket of calm like this was an extremely rare and narrow window of opportunity. Like an unexpected gift from fate - that capricious, petulant child - It was the last chance I had to complete my mission. Any moment now, the howling gales would pick up again, obscuring my vision and spoiling any chance of a projectile travelling in a reasonably straight line. I suppressed another shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Yeah, I would only get one shot at this. Slowly, I was able to relax jittery muscles once more, regaining mastery over myself. Once I was satisfied, I let out a deep breath. I could do that now that the ice in my mouth was preventing any steam from giving my position away. My finger found the trigger once more and I slowly opened my eyes and sighted down the scope for one last time. The crosshairs were resting on the forehead of a remarkably handsome young man with dirty blond hair. He had the high cheekbones and sharp features one typically associates with glamour and affluence, though they were stained with grime and blood now. The only flaw was an unfortunate crooked nose, no doubt where it had once been badly broken. Alan had always claimed he was the most handsome lieutenant in the whole Federation armed forces, with an imminent and meteoric rise to wide acclaim as the best post-war actor in holo-deck films looming just under yonder horizon. Until, that is, I squashed his hopes flat ¨C along with his nose - with a bar stool over an argument about the virtues of homebrewed beer versus moonshine. The sights trembled ever so slightly, but I immediately steeled myself. No man left behind.. When our whole unit had been caught in the enemy ambush, only Alan and I had been able to escape. Then.. *** ¡°C¡¯mon Al, we gotta get out of this hellhole,¡± I spat out between clenched teeth as I surveyed the small mountain of corpses around us. ¡°Yeah, no argument he.. WATCH OUT!¡± Abruptly, Alan had grabbed me by the shoulders and flung me against the ground while shielding me with his body. Moments later I could hear the all-too familiar buzzing of the rotors from an unmanned suicide drone, meaning it was already too late. A flash of light and a deafening roar, then both Alan and I were flying through the air. When I opened my eyes, I was lying in a heap of torn flesh and blood on the ground. As I gathered my senses and leveraged myself to a kneeling position, the liquid warmth flowing from my ear and a high-pitched ringing inside my head told me I¡¯d lost at least partial hearing. Scrambling to my feet, I began to look for Alan on unsteady legs. I found him half a minute later. The explosion had only flung me for a short distance, both because I¡¯d been prone and I had been shielded from the worst of the impact. Alan, however, had been propelled high into the air, and over the edge of a nearby ravine. I climbed down the steep rockface faster than most men can descend a ladder, but I knew it was over for him. My expert eye told me Alan had survived the explosion thanks to his Personal EM Defense Field, but it had never been designed to handle the blunt force trauma of hitting solid granite at near terminal velocity. ¡°He.. hey chief. Why the long face? Finally forced to admit you¡¯re gonna miss ol¡¯ Al..?¡± chuckled Alan, then had to stop to cough up blood. ¡°¡­¡± I knelt beside him and busied myself by frantically tearing through my first aid kit. We were both veterans, and we knew there was nothing I could do, except perhaps ease the pain. However, at least I didn¡¯t have to meet his eyes. Surprisingly strong hands grasped mine, stopping me with a gentle, yet firm grip. ¡°Chief.. they¡¯re closing in on our position.¡± ¡°No man left behind,¡± I echoed flatly. ¡°Damn it, Chief..¡± ¡°No man left behind,¡± I chanted once more, like a mantra. ¡°.. Chief,¡± Softly this time, an entreaty. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Michael.¡± I finally looked up, and it was one of the hardest things I¡¯ve ever had to do. ¡°Michael, you must complete the mission.¡± ¡°No man..¡± My choking voice was unable to finish. ¡°It¡¯s over for me. You and I both know that,¡± came the serene reply. As if to emphasize his point, another coughing fit splattered Al¡¯s chin with flecks of blood. Not now, not like this. After he got his breath back, Alan wheezed, ¡°Michael. Finish. Mission.¡± ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Michael,¡± grated Al, and his hands shook as he squeezed my hands between his. ¡°Jake, Razor, Skip, Big Ray, Colette, Rocky.. they¡¯re all gone. Look at me.¡± Slowly, against every instinct buried deep in my chest, I complied. Al¡¯s steel grey eyes were clear and calm, though the lines around them told me how much pain he was in. ¡°Don¡¯t let our sacrifice be in vain.¡± Unable to bear the raw honesty of the plea in his eyes, I squeezed my eyes shut and slowly nodded. I felt a gentle pat on my shoulder, then hearty laughter echoed across the ravine as Al grabbed the back of my neck and whispered, ¡°That¡¯s the chief I know! Now, get out of here before you steal my thunder!¡± I slowly shook my head in the negative. I ground my teeth, then lay my hand on Al¡¯s neck and pulled him closer, until our eyes were scant inches from one another. I wanted him to see the manic fire burning in mine. I would scorch the world in white-hot flames for him. A fitting tribute. Al nodded his understanding. He¡¯d seen the look before. ¡°Alright then. What¡¯s the plan?¡± I narrowed my eyes, which only made the fire in my eyes blaze all the more fiercely. ¡°Depends. How much c6 do you have left?¡± *** I shook myself free of the memory. I could not afford any distractions. It was gametime. And I always play to win. The ultra magnification scope allowed me to easily make out the faces of both the soldiers holding Al¡¯s sagging figure between them, and the high-ranking official approaching them from the nearby command bunker. Shifting my scope slightly, I followed his movement across the field. Yeah, that was him alright. The high priority target we¡¯d been sent on this suicide mission to terminate. High General Chong Moon Ki. A ruthless and fearsomely competent commander. his towering intellect and deep grasp of complex strategic concepts more than made up for his relative lack of smaller scale tactical acumen and field experience. Too bad that very same deficiency would see him dead today. There were some things you just could never learn in the Officers¡¯ Academy. The center of my crosshairs lingered longingly over his head. Of course, I didn¡¯t take the shot. Even from this distance, I could see the strange ring of shimmering air around him. Light refracting off an EM containment field so strong that it was visible with the naked eye. I doubted even a direct hit from an artillery shell could burn through that monstrosity. EM fields were very strong against kinetic impact and energy discharges. What it wasn¡¯t so good against were 4 pounds of high density C6 compact-fusion charges. Well, nothing short of a nuclear shelter was much use against a baby nuke, as they were nicknamed. One pound was enough to level a 20 city block area. 4 pounds of it would fit comfortably inside both hands, but could probably blow a small city to bits. Very small, mildly radioactive bits. Of course, Al had been stripped of anything remotely threatening before being dragged before General Chong. Certainly, they would screen for C6. It was a very popular explosive, extensively used through multiple fronts of the conflict. However, the downside was that it was very easy to detect. C6 emitted a distinct radioactive signature. Sure, it could be concealed through the use of spectrum scrambling coating, a fine layer of highly toxic military-grade polymers. However, the detonator was another matter entirely. You just couldn¡¯t conceal the electromagnetic signature of such a device. The alternative was using a bulky device completely devoid of any electrical parts along with a strong impact fuse, but such methods relied on a preset timer, could not be remotely operated and were ultimately just too unwieldy for practical applications. Satisfied that the target had been positively identified, I smoothly slid my scope¡¯s sights until they rested on Al once more. There were dark bruises under his eyes, and his skin had a deathly pale complexion that told me there wasn¡¯t much time left. I had administered all the painkillers I had, but it could only do so much to blunt the pain. However, I thought I could still see the glint of bluster and good humor that had characterized Al for as long as I¡¯d known him, buried deep beneath the drug-induced stupor. ¡°Good bye, old friend. Your fight ends here, but mine goes on.¡± My finger slowly squeezed on the trigger as I emptied my lungs of the last of my breath with one final whisper. ¡°You won¡¯t be alone though. I will give you the best god damn wake in history. Like you always wanted, you¡¯re going out with a bang.¡± I increased the pressure on the trigger, and I felt the smooth CLICK as it actuated, then a deafening roar as I was jerked backwards from the recoil. My eyes never wavered, however. I fancied I could see the hybrid Titatium-coated depleted Uranium shell soar high through the unearthly calm of the dawn air, drawing one last beautiful arch that slowly descended until it finally came to rest upon the bosom of my best friend. A human bomb with an utterly deadly payload inside. The light was instant and blinding, and even from here I could feel the impact wave stinging my eyes. ¡°No man left behind..¡± I closed my eyes and bowed my head one last time in silent tribute, then stood up to stow Katherine away and pack what was left of my gear. It was time to go home. *** With a start, I bolted upright. I¡¯d been lying on a straw pallet inside a dimly lit tent. Stray rays of sunshine filtered through the gaps in the corners. As I leaned my weight against my hands to roll to my feet, a sudden stab of pain made me wince. Looking down, I saw my right hand had been expertly splinted and bandaged. From the smell wafting from the slight greenish tint of the bandages, I assumed some herb or medicine had been applied as well. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t move just yet. You were in pretty rough shape when he carried you in,¡± a man¡¯s warm, gentle voice offered next to me. ¡°Where am I?¡± I demanded, with more force than I had intended. I was grateful for the help, but I couldn¡¯t afford to be lying down. No man left behind.. I¡¯m coming, Sol.. A calming hand descended on my shoulder, and I had grind my teeth not to bark out my next works. This person had obviously gone to great lengths to give me assistance, and the least I could do was to refrain from screaming at him or breaking his damn wrist off. Not that I could, apparently. I grumbled in my head. Probably just end up breaking my other wrist.. with a leg or neck added in the bargain. I would have to rapidly adjust my tactics for any future physical combat encounter. I was obviously not very well equipped to deal with such - if at all. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. The unknown stranger must have mistaken my expression for one of pain, for he quickly apologized, ¡°Forgive me. You¡¯re probably still under a lot of pain. I tried to give you the best treatment I could, but under my present circumstances, a splint, bandages and some local herbal medicine was all I could afford.¡± Turning to face my benefactor, I saw a man in his twenties, with flowing blond hair and honest blue eyes. He was dressed in plain but sturdily made robes, not too dissimilar from my own. A healer or a priest, perhaps? I glanced around the tent and saw that we were alone. It was a bare room, hardly more than a hovel with a ragged cloth flapping at the entrance to provide some privacy. The only furnishings were the pallet I lay on and a small portable writing desk with a tiny stool set in front of it. I could see bales of some sort of cloth stacked high against one of the walls. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want to sound ungrateful, but I need you to tell me who you are, where I am, and how long have I been out.¡± The young man opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it, then looked away from me. ¡°You¡¯re just as he said.¡± ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The man who carried you in.¡± ¡°Who was.. look,¡± I let out in a strained voice, trying to hold on to my temper. ¡°I don¡¯t have the time to play 10 questions with you. If you won¡¯t tell me, I¡¯ll just..¡± ¡°I see you are awake, Khazik,¡± The cool, toneless voice that reminded me of boulders sliding down mountains cut in. Instantly, my hairs stood on end and I tried to get up once more. And failed. Damn, my whole body was still shaky from the ordeal I¡¯d just gone through. I¡¯d lost my first fight on Aeterna - badly, and if that wasn¡¯t galling enough, one of the bastards was right here with me! I narrowed my eyes and I found his silhouette, hardly visible until my eyes adjusted to the dim shadows inside the tent. Had he been standing there the whole time? It was Jae¡¯thun. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest. Both arms and chest were crisscrossed with numerous scars. This guy was either very lucky or very, very good in a fight. You didn¡¯t earn that many scars and walked away from them in one piece without a very good reason. We stood in silence for one long moment while I coldly assessed my situation, and corroborated my conclusions with the facts I had available so far. Hey, just because I enjoy a good fight doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m stupid. Far from it. I graduated with honors from West Point, after all. Jae¡¯thun simply stood there, returning my scrutiny. He looked inscrutable and uninterested on the outside, but I thought I had his number now. I made up my mind, and spoke out first, ¡°So, you want to know how I can move and fight the way I do, but flop and flounder about like a drowned kitten in the actual execution?¡± Surprise widened Jae¡¯thun¡¯s eyes. Bingo. I glanced sideways at the other man in the room. I was a pretty sharp judge of character, and unless I¡¯d badly misjudged these two, they could be trusted. To an extent. ¡°I¡¯ll explain, but first you must tell me why an honorable warrior would stoop to help trash like Tarik enslave children and butcher their only family for profit.¡± I suppose the mutt qualified as family - barely. The corners of Jae¡¯thun¡¯s eyes narrowed, then his mouth twitched into a bitter sneer, ¡°Honor? What use does Jae¡¯thun for such fickle, useless trinkets.¡± ¡°But you have your code, and you live by it. I can see it in your words and actions. Why else save me from Tarik? Why bring me here after I fought and wounded your comrades?¡± ¡°Those rats are no comrades of mine,¡± hissed Jae¡¯thun, then his lips quirked slightly as he looked pointedly at my useless right arm. ¡°And I think your wounded pride was the only casualty other than your wrist.¡± I ground my teeth but didn¡¯t deign that with a response. Damn barbarian, I¡¯d shown him one day.. Jae¡¯thun held my gaze for a moment longer, then he looked away. ¡°That was unworthy of me. Still, I must admit you present me with a great puzzle. Your eyes are those of a fierce predator, a proud Khazik prowling the dunes. You pounce on your prey like the shadow of Ashkari, the great huntress, swift and deadly. Then you.. flop on ground and mewl on your belly like newborn cat, yes.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if he was complimenting me or insulting me. I decided to take the high road, for now. ¡°Time presses, Jae¡¯thun. I must know.¡± ¡°Ah yes, the child.¡± I didn¡¯t respond. I was still strangely reluctant to show just how desperately I wanted to rush out and hunt those bastards down. ¡°Very well, I shall answer if you tell me why you care so much about what happens to him. I can see you¡¯re new here, and you bear no resemblance to the child, even for distant kin.¡± For a long time, I didn¡¯t answer as I pondered that very question myself. I¡¯d only just met the kid and his insufferable pet. Why did I care so much? It wasn¡¯t out of some misguided sense of justice or a sudden aspiration to become a hero. If anything, I¡¯d always rooted for the villains. Much more fun that way. So why? I frowned, then spoke softly, in a measured tone. I wasn¡¯t used to speaking to others about my past. ¡°In my lands, I was a member of a band of brothers. Not born of blood, but rather a purpose. We were the best at what we did, but ultimately, still expendable. They used us like..¡± I paused as I stopped to consider the best possible analogy for toilet paper in this world, then decided I could come up with a more dignified analogy. ¡°.. like a poison tipped arrow of the blackest obsidian.¡± There. Apparently the language had the word for Obsidian, so I assumed he¡¯d understand what it was. A black volcanic rock, much like glass. It could easily be sharpened until it slid through armor, skin and flesh like butter. However, upon impact it would shatter into so many shards. It was a one-time only kind of deal. I looked at Jae¡¯thun, who nodded grimly. Yeah, warrior types understood. Been there, done that. ¡°Thus, we lived by a single code. One oath that bound us harder than death, than anything. It was this: No man left behind. It meant that no matter who manipulated us, sent us crashing to our deaths or stabbed us in the back, we would never leave one of our number alone. We would either stand and die, or run to fight another day, but always as one. To the death.¡± Jae¡¯thun looked at me and I gazed straight back, letting him see the truth behind my words. True, Al had been my only true friend in the squad. However, we had all shared that bond, that special something that bound us more tightly than blood ever could have. Even me, the slightly unhinged, dangerously psychotic commanding officer. They would have still died for me, each and every one of them, and I would have done the same. ¡°No man left behind,¡± repeated Jae¡¯thun, and I nodded to him. ¡°It is not such a bad code to live by. Jae¡¯thun approves.¡± As if to emphasize, his fist rose towards me and I could see impressive muscles bulging under all that scar tissue. Aw, what the hell. I reached up and bumped my fist against his. Jae¡¯thun looked puzzled at first, but he seemed to understand the gesture. He nodded to me once more, then let out a deep breath. ¡°I am Jae¡¯thun, son of Gar¡¯thal, son of Nunwei, of the Red Sun tribe. I have wandered the endless dunes for many years, unconquerable, undefeated. But at long last, I tasted bitter defeat at the hands of a vicious band of Jektal. Bandits,¡± He clarified at my uncomprehending expression. ¡°They fell upon me like a pack of hyenas, surrounded me, and poisoned the tips of their spears. Cowards.¡± I raised an eyebrow as I re-evaluated my stock of Jae¡¯thun¡¯s combat prowess. Damn, surrounded on all sides by enemies, wielding spears to boot, and they¡¯d had to resort to poison? This was one dangerous son of a gun. I was forming a mental flowchart of Jae¡¯thun: Quiet, brooding, and kicking ass all over the place. I kind of liked him already. ¡°They left me for dead, but I survived for five days and nights, until someone rescued me.¡± Jae¡¯thun didn¡¯t look none too pleased about this last bit. In fact, he spit to one side and growled softly. ¡°Tarik found me and has his women treat my wounds. Ever since, I have owed blood debt to him. For many years, Jae¡¯thun beholden to the fat worm, and lose face before all worthy hunters of the Great Steppes.¡± I could certainly understand why his friends would look down on him for keeping company with the likes of Tarik. There are worms, and there are Worms. ¡°Finally, I ask Tarik to release me. I will do his bidding no more. He has requested one final task,¡± Jae¡¯thun continued, looking at me, stone-faced. Ah, damn. I had a bad feeling about this. ¡°He ask me to slay the barbarian who spit on his honor,¡± a slight sneer was all I needed to know about what Jae¡¯thun thought of that particular virtue in Tarik. Besides, it had been his eye. Nothing about honor there, but I digress. ¡°Since I did not allow him to do so himself.¡± ¡°At first I think, this is a great opportunity. I would fight a brave warrior and gain my freedom or die gloriously and pass on to the shores of Aerwa, the land of the dead, where brave hunters gather for the last hunt.¡± ¡°But now..¡± After this last bit, he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he openly looked me up and down. So that¡¯s how it was, was it? Damn ignorant bastard.. ¡°I bring you here so you may heal. When you recover enough, I will give you the choice to stand, fight and die like a warrior. Or you may run. I will not chase you, but the coward¡¯s mark will be upon you, forever staining your soul.¡± *Ttiriing*
You have received a quest: ¡°A Hunter¡¯s Redemption¡±
A Hunter¡¯s Redemption Difficulty: C
Description: The Red Sun tribe has long wandered the endless sands of the Arioch Wastelands. Though their prowess is undisputable, their pride eventually became their downfall. One such is the famous hunter, Jae¡¯thun. Unwillingly, he has incurred in blood debt to Tarik the merchant. Though no chains confine him except those of his own making, Jae¡¯thun is a caged beast seeking one last fight before that which he values more than life itself, at last crumbles away. His Pride.Goals:
  • Accept Jae¡¯thun¡¯s offer to duel him to the death in glorious battle.
  • Free Jae¡¯thun from the odious influence of Tarik.
  • Restore his wounded pride.
Jae¡¯thun expects you to heal and fight him to the death. He will await until you are fully healed and provide any supplies you require towards that end.Requirements:
  • Must not commit any actions that might damage Jae¡¯thun¡¯s pride.
Quest Rewards:
  • Jae¡¯thun¡¯s gratidude.
  • ???
Figures. Just my luck. Sighing heavily, I stopped to ponder for a moment. On the one hand, I needed to go after Tarik as soon as possible. However, it seemed as though he was still under Jae¡¯thun¡¯s protection. I would have to go through him first. Sizing him up and remembering my disastrous debut in hand-to-hand combat in Aeterna.. I didn¡¯t give myself very good odds at all. I¡¯m a gambler, not a retard with a deathwish. ¡°Wait, before that, what about Sol?¡± Jae¡¯thun looked unhappy, but his gaze did not waver, ¡°The child is an orphan, and his beast is a Khazik whelp. The villagers here have not realized it yet because the child hides its eye, but it will continue growing until they realize its true nature.¡± He shook his head sadly, ¡°They will then be forced to kill both the beast and the child, for he will not stand by and let others do what must be done.¡± ¡°Wait, what? What is a Khazik? You called me that before.¡± Jae¡¯thun nodded to me. ¡°Khazik. Great hunter of the dunes. Deadly beast of the steppes, many brave hunters¡¯ grave lie in its shadow.¡± Which told me nothing except for what I already knew. That mutt was a damn nuissance. Sighing deeply, I once again pondered my options. There are times when one just has to be decisive, even in the face of overwhelming odds, in order to make progress. Inch towards daylight. ¡°Jae¡¯thun, you asked me for my secret. I vow to give it to you, but first I must have time to settle my affairs. How long until Sol is auctioned off at the slave block?¡± ¡°10 days, if he wishes to receive a good price. For that he must travel to the caravan city of Taishen. 3, if he decides to settle for less and sells him at the local market.¡± ¡°Very well. Give me 10 days, and I will give you my answer.¡± ¡°I understand. However..¡± I interrupted him with my palms up. ¡°I swear that I will inflict no physical harm on Tarik or any of his toadies, unless in self-defense. Is that enough?¡± Jae¡¯thun nodded to me, ¡°That is good to hear. However, until you give me my answer, I cannot offer you the hospitality of my shade nor the water of my well.¡± I frowned at that. That put a wrinkle in my plans. Well, no matter. I didn¡¯t like being indebted to anyone, in any case. Particularly if that man was looking forward to slicing my guts for his own perverse justification. ¡°That is fine with me.¡± ¡°It is agreed, then.¡± ¡°Agreed.¡± Jae¡¯thun held out his fist towards me, and after a moment of puzzled bewilderment, I understood. I bumped fists with my would-be killer. ¡°Now, tell me who I have to murder to get some grub around here..¡±
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Chapter 7 - The Legend of Glorious Korendur Chapter 7 - The Legend of Glorious Korendur Jae¡¯thun merely stared at me impassively. I guess he really meant it when he said I would be getting nothing from him until he got his fight. Stingy bastard. A polite cough was heard from my left. Oh, the healer. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°You are technically still my patient, so I would be honored to provide you with some nourishment,¡± the young man replied, bowing his head. Gotta be a priest of some sort, he practically glowed with that goody-two-shoes vibe. It gave me the creeps. ¡°Yeah, sure, whatever,¡± was my off-handed reply, but I was watching him warily. My instincts told me these two could be trusted, but as to how far.. that remained to be seen. And I¡¯ve been known to be wrong before. It usually means I get to leave a whole lot of skin behind in order to extricate myself from whatever deathtrap I¡¯d managed to land myself into. I wasn¡¯t the type to give my trust easily, but it¡¯s been known to happen. Looking at the tall hunter, it seemed Jae¡¯thun wasn''t much feeling like going anywhere right then. I performed a quick study of my surroundings, then asked of the younger man, ¡°Hey priest, this is your place, right?¡± He nodded to me, ¡°Please, call me Zephyr, and yes, this is my humble abode for the time being. And I am not a priest, I am a merely a lowly merchant trying to enrich the lives of those around me.¡± Really? ¡°Humble abode?¡± ¡°Enrich lives?¡± Who the hell uses that kind of language? Especially way out in the boondocks of society, the Arioch Wastelands? ¡°Zephyr, not that it¡¯s any of my business, but what exactly are you doing here?¡± I inquired, genuinely curious, while Zephyr busied himself with a few jars propped up by one corner of the room. He didn¡¯t stop his labor as he spoke over his shoulder, ¡°Whatever do you mean, good sir?¡± I had to close my eyes and work my jaw from side to side in order not to throttle him. The way he spoke, the tone of his voice, everything about him.. it just set my teeth on edge. Looking at him with undisguised bewilderment, I wondered what exactly it was that made me so very uncomfortable around him. Meanwhile Zephyr doled out some flat bread of some kind, along with hard cheese and some water. I noticed Jae¡¯thun wordlessly accepted a share as well. I just couldn¡¯t believe how cheap that guy was, self-proclaimed Grand Hunter of the Steppes mooching off of a priest. All the while I sat munching on my own piece of bread. Hey, it was free and I was starving. I noticed Zephyr himself did not leave any of the food for himself. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the floor next to the stool where Jae¡¯thun had squatted to eat. ¡°Hey, where¡¯s your share?¡± I wondered out loud. ¡°Oh, I am not feeling in need of immediate sustenance at the moment, although I am grateful for your concern,¡± responded Zephyr with an easy smile. Suddenly, I stopped chewing and looked down at my bread as though it had grown claws and fangs. It couldn¡¯t possible be.. I heard an amused rumble echoing from the walls of the tent. I looked up to see Jae¡¯thun regarding me with the closest thing to real mirth I¡¯d seen on his face this whole time I¡¯d known him. He pointedly looked at my food, then at me, then started chewing on his piece with renewed vigor. Show-off.. I responded in kind. I had to admit it was ludicrous. If Zephyr had wanted to poison me, he could have just left me untreated and saved himself the trouble. Which reminded me.. I inspected the wooden splints and the bandages. Though the godawful stink of it from up close made my eyes water, it was a job well done by a practiced hand. After years of real combat experience, I could do as well of a job - probably faster, too - though my field dressings never looked quite so neat and orderly. I squinted at the enigmatic young man once more. ¡°Since when do wandering merchants know how to set broken bones and mix herbs? Most busines.. ah, merchants from my land would be too busy learning how to count their money faster to bother with first aid techniques.¡± Zephyr smiled at me with a truly beatific expression. I kid you not. Beatific. It¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve had the chance to use the word in my whole entire miserable existence. This guy lit up the room with that smile, like a saint descended from above. ¡°I was once a disciple of the Holy Order of the Lady Arabelle, patron Goddess of all those seeking refuge from ailments of the flesh and spirit, may her grace shower us all with her benevolence. However, that part of my life is now in the past, and I am as you see me now, a humble practitioner of the arts of the coin and exchange of valuables.¡± I tried not to gape at the response. Was this guy for real? I literally had to struggle against my gag reflex as everything I¡¯d eaten was threatening to become uneaten. To occupy my mind, I glanced sideways at the bales of cloth occupying one side of the room. They looked well cared for, stacked high and almost touching the ceiling. That couldn¡¯t be good. ¡°That¡¯s a rather alarmingly high stack of merchandise. Looks like it hasn¡¯t moved for a while, too. Business is not going very well, I take it?¡± Zephyr''s shoulders sagged minutely as his cheeks colored. ¡°The Lord of Scales and Weights has not seen fit to bestow his blessing upon my travails as of yet, no. However, I shall persevere with full confiden-¡± Not one to miss a weak spot on others, I pushed, ¡°Just how much in the red are you?¡± Zephyr stopped abruptly and his eyes took on a slightly haunted look. Then they returned to normal and he was all tranquil benevolence once more. ¡°I would not bore you with the details..¡± ¡°Oh no, please do. I used to oversee a number of quartermasters for entire regiments.. err, that is to say, I had a vested interest in keeping a very close eye on tally numbers and inventory reports tallied by others back in my homeland. Many of them were overly.. creative in their interpretation of sums and minuses, especially when numbers became hard to track, if you take my meaning.¡± Zephyr nodded judiciously, granting me the point, ¡°Indeed, some of my fellow devotees of the Order of the Weights and Measures can be a little.. overenthusiastic in reaching for higher profit margins.¡± Highway robbery, more like. I¡¯d caught a number of the quartermasters for the troops under my command red handed, shifting inventories and shortchanging me on supply costs. A single dot to either side of the real figure could suddenly make a man making a comfortable living from controlling supply requisitions for a small platoon, into a bloody minor magnate, such were the vast amounts of federal credits that were the pumping lifeblood of the beast known as the United Federation Army. They could make a killing in one single supplies manifesto or munitions order. Of course, that had come to a rather abrupt end after I¡¯d made a killing or two - in the most literal sense of the word, of course - out of the first few who ignored my stern warnings the first and second times I¡¯d caught such practices. Nothing like the prospect of facing military tribunal and summary execution on charges of wartime treason and conspiring with the enemy to sabotage allied troops to put some backbone and a tiny dash of integrity on a man, no matter how crooked or corrupt. Of course, that didn¡¯t make me very popular with the highly placed men who¡¯d been profiting behind the scenes, but I digress. Finishing the last of my bread and brushing off the crumbs from my hands, I stood gingerly. Good, looked like the food and rest had helped. ¡°Status Window,¡± I mumbled softly, trying my best to ignore the curious stares from Jae¡¯thun and Zephyr. I guess they were not users. If so, then that was damn fine AI scripting right there. Very impressive. I would have bet anything that they were human, just like me. *Diiing*
Status Window
Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
Level:1 (95% XP until next level)Class:Scholar
Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
Gender:MaleTalent:Stubborn Mule
Traits
  • Flawed Soul
  • Paranoid Survivalist
  • Relentless
Achievements
  • Training Day Disaster
  • Fame:1000Infamy:0
    -
    Health:2 / 7 (Increased Recovery Rate)Soul:5
    Mana:28 / 28????
    Stamina:8 / 8 (Increased Recovery Rate)????
    -
    Strenght:6Agility:6
    Vitality:9
    Intelligence:10Wisdom:10
    Charisma:4Luck:12
    -
    Attack:3Defense:3
    Physical Resistances
    Slashing:0Piercing:0
    Crushing:0
    Elemental Resistances
    Fire:0Water:0
    Wind:0Earth:0
    Light:0Darkness:0
    I tried not to get too depressed about the numbers. I flicked a glance at Jae¡¯thun and wondered what his attack and defense values were. Actually.. ¡°Hey Jae¡¯thun, what is your attack stat?¡± I just bit the bullet. Might as well get it over with. As expected, Jae¡¯thun stared at me as though I¡¯d asked him what size of bra he wears when crossdressing at the local gay bar. ¡°Attack stack?¡± ¡°No, attack STAT,¡± I murmured, realizing it was no use. So, Jae¡¯thun was definitely not a user. I glanced at Zephyr. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°How about you Zephyr?¡± ¡°I am afraid I have no desire to invest in an attack stall. I beg your forgiveness, but all of my financial assets are otherwise engaged at the moment.¡± UGH. I should have known better than to ask. What kind of user would choose to speak like that? From the shocking lack of any real momentum behind my attacks and the ridiculous ease with which I had taken as thorough a beating as I ever had in my life.. well, I assumed 2 points in either were dismayingly low. Even fat slugs like Tarik must have at least 10 or 20 points. Then again, I was at level one. I squinted at Jae¡¯thun, wondering what level that bastard was. At least 20, my guess was. Hell, maybe even 40 or some ridiculous number. Fact of the matter was, I had no idea how difficult a level was to attain in Aeterna, or what the benefits were. In other words, 5 Strength might as well be 50 for all I knew. What benefits did Intelligence or Wisdom yield to me, anyhow? I certainly didn¡¯t feel any smarter, or wiser. My luck stat happened to be my highest at the moment, thanks to my Talent: ¡°Stubborn Mule.¡± I snorted loudly, ignoring the quizzical looks from Zephyr. Fat lot of good that Luck stat had done me so far. I had to admit it, I had taken a mad gamble, ignoring fat devil guy''s advice on character creation and relying on what little information I''d been able to gather before entering Aeterna. It looked like this was one of those few occasions when it had backfired. Then again, when those damn fleas had been intent on leeching my blood away as I lay helpless in the sand, the passersby had unwittingly rescued me by dumping bucket after bucket of water on me to get rid of the stench. When I¡¯d been helpless to stop Tarik¡¯s final attack, Jae¡¯thun had been there to stop what would surely have put an abrupt end to the very, very brief candle that had been Seth¡¯s life on Aeterna. Coincidence? Maybe not. I shook my head to clear it of all these useless conjectures. The fact remained that I was a damn sorry trainwreck waiting to happen. I was so weak I couldn¡¯t even punch others lest I end up crippling myself instead. I had no idea how much 5 stamina was, but if my luck held, it meant I would likely faint dead away after a 50 yard dash - if I even made it that far. ¡°Achievement Information: Training Day Disaster.¡± *Diiing*
    Achievement: Training Day Disaster
    From the lowly worm, growing into the mysterious pupa, and eventually unfolding into the winged wonders known as butterflies. This is the circle of life. Every soul must toil and sweat to find its way, though someone always breaks the mold - in a spectacularly disastrous fashion. Congratulations, you have managed to inflict a life-threatening injury upon yourself in your first day of training. Your instructors, if you had any, would likely resign and choose to retreat to a remote cave in the middle of nowhere, to live out their lives in quiet contemplation, rather than risk further contact with a living disaster such as yourself. Take heart, however. The fates have taken pity of your plight and grant you their blessing! Well done, recruit! Strength +2 Agility +2 Vitality +3 Wisdom +2 Intelligence +2 Luck +3
    If I could get my hands on the script writers of this place.. Actually, the stats I derived from this achievement seemed abnormally high to me. It was almost comparable to my god-given talent - quite literally granted to me by a god with a lousy sense of humor - "Stubborn Mule". Then I realize achievements didn''t have ranks. Perhaps that explained it. They were a one time deal. Anyhow, this achievement would certainly come in handy. Still, it just wasn¡¯t enough. Here is where I must revisit and readjust my grand master plan once again. I went through it in my head one more time. The reasons for choosing the Scholar class had been legion, enumerated, checked and rechecked with deliberate care in light of all available information at that time. First and foremost, I had utter confidence in my physical prowess, on and off the field of battle, with or without weapons, against one or multiple opponents. After a certain level of proficiency, you come to realize that brute strength yields increasingly diminishing returns. Just because you punch twice as hard doesn¡¯t mean you will land that punch at all. Most real life fights began and ended within the space of a handful of heartbeats. Whoever got that critical hit in first could wound, cripple or otherwise inhibit the other¡¯s ability to fight, therefore reducing their combat capabilities by 30% or more. Same goes with speed. Sure, being faster means your attacks are harder to avoid and your defense improves by the same proportion. However, like in the tale of the hare and the tortoise, in real life the fastest rarely won the race - quite emphatically so if your opponent is me. I had never been the fastest, nor the strongest, yet I had very, very rarely lost a fight. It came down to guts. Not just the courage to put it all on the line, take that one last step forward. Guts were the combination of battle intuition, real combat experience, and yes, the heart to put it all on the line, anywhere, anytime. Did I mention I always play to win? So, I¡¯d spurned the combat oriented classes as inefficient for someone who had already mastered those arts like myself. Instead, I was intrigued by the prospect of limitless intellect and instinct bordering on prescience. I mean, what else could the Intelligence and Wisdom stats stand for? Eidetic memory, instant and full recall, an infallible nose for trouble - almost like a spider-sense, from those old comics back home.. you name it, I had high hopes for those stats. Magic, you say? Hell no, I ain¡¯t wearing no pansy ass robe for a second longer than I absolutely must. All that mumbling and chanting and praying for communion with the spirits of nature and arcane powers? Screw that, my fists had plenty of power for all that and more. So, shunning the meatheaded combat oriented classes and the frankly embarrassing magic wielding ones, I¡¯d been left with the scholars, which didn¡¯t sound so bad when you really thought about it. And there, we come upon the second reason for choosing the Scholar class. I¡¯d assumed that if warriors gained experience by warring, thieves by thieving, and magicians by magicking, then scholars should be able to level up well enough by focusing on their, well, schooling. I¡¯d always been a quick study. I graduated top of my class from West Point, and as I¡¯d said earlier, I¡¯d never been the strongest nor the fastest. I could definitely vie for the title of the most knowledgeable or cunning, however, with a fair degree of credibility to the claim. Just ask all the sore losers I crapped on while climbing my way to the top of the ranks. So yeah, I excelled at academic studies. I fairly devoured any instruction I had not already acquired. After all, knowledge is power. If as a Scholar, that very act gained me level after level, so much the better! I also needed something that would propel me to the heights of power in as short a period of time as possible, and thus we arrive at yet another vital reason for choosing the Scholar class, as well as my choice for a starting area. I simply did not relish the prospect of spending the next 50 years in Aeterna chasing after every tiny iota of power in my mad dash to achieve godhood. I work hard when I must, yes, but I also work smart, which is even better. See, in any kind of established power structure, there¡¯s the high and mighty overlords on top, the midling ranks attempting - and mostly failing - to reach such heights, and the bottom feeders, stuck in abject misery at their appalling worthlessness. I would start right in at the very bottom of the latter ranks. That was a problem. So, I could either attempt to claw my way up the ranks within the established power structure through the regular and well proven - and highly inefficient as well as mind-bogglingly resource intensive, both in time and energy - way, or I could simply set my feet and rock the boat, then wait to see what falls out. I had the confidence to say it wouldn¡¯t be me, at least not first. Or second. Oh no, I was a born fighter, and I could duke it out with the meanest of them. In other words, I would snatch someone else¡¯s power for my own. It is a constant as universal as death and taxes. Wherever there is power, there will be those who will try to usurp it for themselves - sometimes through the most crooked and messy ways. I wouldn¡¯t mind taking such a shortcut myself. So, I needed a role model. Someone whose steps I could follow. I had risked a great deal to acquire certain information before entering Aeterna. My query had been a simple one: I wanted to know where the largest and most sudden power vacuum had happened in the face of Aeterna. Why, you ask? Simple, allow me to illustrate: Say you¡¯re having the time of your life riding around in your brand new Ferrari, the only one in town. Everyone bows and scrapes for you, and you can¡¯t get enough action with the girls. Then one day this upstart arrives in town driving a Lamborghini. Suddenly, your shiny Ferrari is looking dull and slightly dated. What do you do? You challenge him to a race. Then you mess with his brakes, and watch him tumble to the bottom of a very steep cliff. You get my point. If theoretically anyone could achieve godhood in Aeterna, given enough power and influence, then if I were one of those selfsame gods, I might be more than a little jittery. Extremely possessive, to the point of paranoia. After all, if I had reached the pinnacle, why wouldn¡¯t someone else? So what do you, a reigning god, do when the upstart suddenly rides into town in a shiny new Lambo? You crush him. Utterly, without mercy or quarter asked or given. Then you bury him in the deepest hole you can find, and make sure everyone forgets about the whole bloody affair. That¡¯s why I was suddenly very interested in finding the greatest power vacuum on Aeterna. I had some leads, some promising seeds, but I needed more. And in order to search out those tendrils, sniff out the trail, I would need more information. Dangerous information. The type that got whole empires buried under a shitload of rubble. Or sand. Yeah. Sand. The Arioch Wastelands. This is where I would start my search. Unless I was badly mistaken, somewhere underneath the dunes of the Endless Steppes, lay the Legendary Great Imperial Library of Glorious Korendur. Fair, glorious Korendur. Even the name has faded from memory, according to my sources. However, it was once the shining beacon of light and civilization on this entire blasted land. Full of fertile valleys and wondrous vistas, it was a land of prosperity, progress, and might. So much so, that it drew the attention of the gods, and one night mighty Korendur was no more, its very memory wiped from the minds of all the denizens of the lands. Or in case that proved impossible, then those very denizens being wiped from the lands. Either way worked. Such was the way of the gods. I could hardly wait to be one myself. Ha. Haha. In the vaults of the Great Imperial Library, I hoped to find more than simple trinkets of power. I thirsted for knowledge. Where would I find the power I craved for, and how would I make such mine? I order to find the answer to those all-important questions, I needed to reclaim ancient and fair Korendur from its desert grave of a millennia or more. Well, that had been the plan. All well and good, but now.. I stared at my broken right hand. My still-trembling legs. My pansy ass robes. I had to admit I¡¯d gotten just a little bit derailed here. No matter, time to correct the course. And to do so, the first step would be to acquire a different kind of power. Finally raising my eyes after what had seemed an eternity of contemplation, I nodded to Zephyr, ¡°So, you were going to show me the tallies from your surplus inventory?¡± Money is power, and power is POWER after all. It was a start. Chapter 8 - The Power of Capitalism Chapter 8 - The Power of Capitalism As I flipped through the pages of the ledger book Zephyr had handed me moments earlier, I could hardly contain my shock. It started benignly enough, a few mishaps here, some minor lapses in judgment there, some dubious calls, chancy propositions, and the such. But then it became like the proverbial snowball, rolling and rolling until it drowned out the terrified screams of the women and children in the village below right before it crushed the breath from their tender bodies and ground their bones to dust. Then the snowball would really get to work on them poor suckers. Yes, it was that bad. Worse, if at all possible. Zephyr might be a truly talented physician, but as a merchant of wares and seeker of profits, he was hopelessly outgunned, outmatched and just plain simply outclassed in every meaningful, measurable medium. Take, for instance, the record of him buying 450 units of milk from the hands of the desperate farmer who had missed the harvest market and could find no buyers for the highly perishable goods. ¡°Well, fear no more my good farmer,¡± I mentally intoned in my best mock-Zephyr-esque imitation. ¡±I shall contrive with the full power of my faith in the Guardian Deity of Greed and Usury to buy this goddamn useless third-rate crap which I couldn¡¯t foist on anyone for 200 miles around because it is already half spoiled and soured to boot. Har har har.¡± Yeah, I¡¯d taken a little creative license with my interpretation of Zephyr¡¯s thought process when he made that deal. So sue me. Worst part was, it wasn¡¯t even the worst part - by far. Oh no, Zephyr had endeavoured - quite thoroughly, I might add - to add one horrifyingly senseless act after another, piling insult on top of injury. Ad nauseum. The tally list of his mercantile crimes would have been enough to earn him quadruple consecutive life sentences with no option for parole. He ought to have been grateful they didn¡¯t just tie him to the electric chair straight away. Nah, he¡¯d probably try to buy the electric chair because it looked so worn and creaky, and would probably offer to sell them a brand new one - at cost, of course, because how could he profit from the demand in the market he¡¯d created himself. He¡¯d pay for the shipping, delivery and installation charges, too. Hell, he¡¯d probably offer to foot the bill for the electricity they used to fry him as well! I finally had to stop lest I scratch out my eyes and bawl like an innocent babe who has been told where babies REALLY come from, at the tender age of 4. Make that 3. Yes, that horror, that unimaginable cruelty visited upon an innocent mind - that was precisely what had been done to me. I blindly thrust away the offending relic of darkness that likely was the source of all that is wrong and evil in the world of commerce, well, everywhere. On Earth and Aeterna and any other planes of reality and beyond. Like a prototypical Pandora¡¯s Box, only this was a ledger book, and of the two it was the nastier one by far. I had been mentally ravished, savagely and repeatedly, and had not come away unscathed. Oh no, I would bear these scars to my grave. That¡¯s what I get for trusting that beatific smile still glittering like gold - fool¡¯s gold - on Zephyr¡¯s solicitous face. As soon as he took back the blasphemous tome, I quickly averted my eyes and shuddered, hugging my arms around my chest and rocking back and forth while mumbling comforting childhood rhymes to myself. The humanity. ¡°So, might I inquire as to your opinion on my past transactional history, Lord Seth?¡± asked me a completely oblivious Zephyr. ¡°...¡± I did not even know where to start. It was the strangest feeling in the world. I felt all these crazy emotions, like sharks madly cavorting about in the waters, inches away from a tender, bloody chunk of meat trailing blood for miles and miles. In their mad frenzy to tear into the object of their desire, they tore at one another to bloody ribbons while the happily oblivious fisherman lounged on top of the bait, reading up on his favorite ¡°Dear Angie,¡± column with a mug of warm coffee in his other hand. Enough. I had to control myself. I took a deep breath. Fine, several deep breaths. You still have no idea of what had been perpetrated on my virginal mind, but I¡¯ll let it pass. ¡°Z.. Zephyr,¡± I whispered hoarsely. ¡°Yes, Lord Seth? How may I be of assistance?¡± Bright as sunshine and fresh as a melon in summertime, that was our good Zephyr. ¡°Do.. do you actually want to be a merchant?¡± Zephyr frowned as though he considered this to be a trick question. It wasn¡¯t. Truly, it was one of the most sincere and earnest questions I have asked in my whole entire life. When he realized that this matter was of some import to me, Zephyr finally answered. ¡°Why, that is assuredly so, my Lord Seth. What other reason might there be for me to profess to belong to the hallowed Order of-¡± ¡°Waste and Consumption..¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°Commodities and Exchanges,¡± finished Zephyr smoothly. ¡°Is something the matter, Lord Seth? You don¡¯t look so well..¡± A grunt from Jae¡¯thun¡¯s corner of the room told me at least someone had witnessed the unspeakable crime perpetrated here. But if he had, I was not getting any help from that quarter. His answer would probably be to run down every single last name in that accursed tally book and have them drawn and quartered for their sins. Which would be entirely just deserts for their crimes, against Zephyr but mostly against me. However, that would also mean I¡¯d have to endure the company of that abominable ledger book for weeks on end. I shuddered involuntarily. Well, the past was the past. Time to look into the future. I walked over to inspect the bales of cloth crowding out most of one side of the tent with my good hand. It looked to be made of decent quality material, and the color looked good as well. ¡°How much did you say you acquired this for, Zephyr?¡± I asked without turning around. ¡°That would be ten golden solari and five silver eagles, unless I misremember.¡± Small risk of that. I¡¯d found that for all of his appalling business sense, Zephyr had an impeccable memory and a very good head for mental calculations. I did a quick mental figure myself. ¡°So, that¡¯s about 20 coppers per bolt of cloth, give or take?¡± ¡°Indeed so.¡± I put my hand on my forehead and used my fingers to try and massage the massive migraine I felt rapidly approaching. ¡°What are you selling it for here?¡± ¡°I have been tendering offers to the amount of 25 copper shields per bolt,¡± responded Zephyr proudly. A resale prospect 25% higher than the original amount. Sounded just about right, no? I wanted to strangle some sense into him. Perhaps if I squeezed hard enough for his temples to pop I might be able to exorcise the parasitic demon spawn ambushing and butchering every decent business-minded idea that crossed the narrow divide between Zephyr¡¯s grey matter and his consciousness. I struggled with the impulse for a while, teetering on the edge: Musn¡¯t do it, it¡¯s not his fault, he¡¯s innocent, might as well slaughter a dog for barking or a rooster for crowing.. but on the other hand.. Ah, it would feel so, sooo good. I shook my head to clear errant thoughts from it. ¡°And your travelling expenses from the point of purchase to the location of the sale, meaning this shithole, were..?¡± Again, the answer came in an instant, as though he¡¯d been ready with the answer the whole time, ¡°The cost for the transportation of goods was 1 solari, caravan fees and dues tallied to yet another solari, border taxes were set by the good magistrate in charge of the border station at 7 eagles and 50 copper shields, and market stall licenses are estimated to reach the final price of another eight silver shields. Thus, the grand sum comes to the amount of 3 gold solari, 5 silver eagles and 50 copper shields.¡± Bloody amazing. He knows all the answers, and yet he doesn¡¯t seem to care at all. I prodded him a little, partly in sick fascination as I just had to wonder what made a rare phenomenon, an aberration such as he was, tick. ¡°So, you are already operating at a loss of exactly three silvers and 37 coppers.¡± ¡°That does indeed seem to be the case, does it not?¡± came the serene reply, sounding as though he were remarking on the fact that it was sunny out, and would therefore be a pleasant day for a stroll or a picnic. He was definitely not talking about a catastrophic loss of revenue on a failed return investment. ¡°And it doesn¡¯t account for the fact that you still have to pay for your trip back out of this hellhole,¡± I pointed, helpfully. ¡°You speak with outstanding candor and enviable foresight, my Lord Seth,¡± Zephyr chimed in, unflappable. Probably thinking about the vintage he¡¯d take for the picnic. ¡°...¡± Wait a moment. I was missing something here. I didn¡¯t know anything about the prices for commodities in Aeterna. However, if Zephyr was selling at 25 coppers a bolt, that was actually quite a decent price for prospective buyers, considering that he¡¯d purchased them for 20 originally, and it was a long and treacherous trek across the desert. Normally, such a trek would double, if not triple the associated costs. Yet, here they stood, in a glaringly obvious state of not being sold. Why? Then I added another piece of the puzzle. Zephyr. Not just any merchant, but Zephyr had bought these bolts. At a decent price. Almost, it seemed, the going rate. Coppers were the lowest denomination of currency on Aeterna, and if a whole bolt sold for 20, that seemed just about right for such a commodity. Ah, realization struck. I sighed heavily, then startled to dig through the piles of cloth, almost afraid of what I would find. Over my shoulder, I asked, ¡°So, was it rain? Mildew? Vermin? Bubonic plague?¡± ¡°Pardon me, Lord Seth? Bub.. Vuvornik plague¡± ¡°.. never mind.¡± I had found the reason. Took me all of 10 seconds to do so. ¡°Botched dye job, huh.¡± ¡°Your boundless knowledge and incomparable wisdom continue to humble me, Lord Seth,¡± came Zephyr¡¯s reply, bright as morning sun. ¡°Does the same flaw run through all the merchandise? Every single bolt?¡± Perhaps there was something to be salvaged. ¡°Every last one. How did you come by this knowledge? Are you perhaps a seer?¡± quipped Zephyr, with good-natured humor. ¡°So, you bought at market price damaged goods that should have fetched one third of the actual rate. Then you crossed one of the largest, most desolate areas of the known world, and only then you thought of inspecting the wares?¡± ¡°Well, in actuality, Lord Seth, I am rather embarrassed to admit that this humble servant of the Lord of Scales failed to detect the flaw in the merchandise until the very moment one of my most worthy clients attempted to acquire a number of bolts from my person.¡± That was just what I needed. By now word would have spread to every corner of the marketplace. No one would want anything to do with these ruined goods now. No chance to foist them off on some unsuspecting fool. Though, glancing sideways at Zephyr, I had to admit we¡¯d be sorely pressed to find someone more lacking in that department than my newest venture partner. The truly confounding part was that Zephyr seemed to be, by any standard of the word, an intelligent person. His vocabulary was truly mind-bogglingly diverse and florid. His observational skills in regards to anything, other than merchandise he was to purchase or sell, was impeccable. He even was gifted with that truly rare mix of earnest self-effacing good humor, and discerning flattery towards others that was genuinely believable. That was quite the trick. It was near-impossible to pull off, that delicate balance between sounding insincere, whether for lack or want of trying, and coming off as an insincere, bootlicking lapdog willing to whore out compliments for others¡¯ approval. When Zephyr complimented your smile, you truly felt as though he saw the reflection of Lustria, Goddess of the Moon, reflected on your pearly white teeth. If he praised your wisdom, you¡¯d be hard-pressed not to spill out all of your most dearly held secrets just so you wouldn¡¯t make a liar of him. That was Zephyr¡¯s truly awe-inspiring gift. Yet, as a man of means, as in, the procurer of goods and the orchestrator who ensured that those same goods actually meant something.. well, he was a complete and utter disaster. Again, for emphasis, not for lack of ability or intellect, but rather due to the most infuriating, bewildering mix of bottomless good will, and boundless faith, both towards his fellow men and the gods they all professed to worship. As a man with very real and deeply rooted commitment and trust issues, I simply could not understand. That was the exact moment when it struck me, like a peal of thunder and a flash of enlightenment. I almost shouted, ¡°Eureka!¡± then stripped my chest bare in preparation of a mad dash about the village¡¯s flimsy, waist-high wooden fence. Almost. I finally understood why Zephyr made me so uncomfortable. It wasn¡¯t that I didn¡¯t trust him, well not precisely. I still didn¡¯t completely trust him, but that was just my trust issues along with my inability to comprehend the true nature of this man. I had to admit, I already trusted Zephyr as deeply as I ever would, no matter the trials and tribulations we suffered together in the future. Yes, he had broken me in, like a feral dog that finally lowers its ears and wags its tail. There¡¯s a good boy. No, the reason my skin itched and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end whenever Zephyr drew too near was because he was my anti-thesis. My nemesis. The twin brother I¡¯d never known from that odd dimension where everything is exactly the same as here, only in a polar opposite. I mistrusted anything and everything, just on general principle, whereas Zephyr had a seemingly inexhaustible supply of faith he could parcel out at will, to one and all comers. Oh, you¡¯ve squandered your portion of Zephyr¡¯s faith? Flushed it down the drain and flipped the trash atomizer switch to literally decompose it into its component molecules? Not a problem, Zephyr always has more. I burned with an intense hate for any and all authority figures, particularly the higher powers that be; the arrogant, self-styled gods who ruled with a petty, capricious hand over the fates of countless mortals who were little more than slaves to their whims and mood swings. Whereas Zephyr, he also burned with a fire, but that of an all-consuming zeal, an absolute devotion towards all divine beings and their unalienable right to command utter, and unswerving obedience and loyalty from him simply due to the fact that they were gods, and he a mere vessel of their will, a thrall to their purpose. And this was the man who was to become my most crucial partner if I was to put my hands on the power that was absolutely necessary to enact the next part of my brilliant plan to end the world. Ah, the things we do to lay our grubbly little hands on some money. Very well, time to get to work then. ¡°Zephyr, I¡¯m going out for a while. Would you care to accompany me?¡± Zephyr¡¯s expression darkened slightly. Which is to say, it still looked twice as cheery as mine was on my best day, but the small change from the normal Zephyr still warranted a second glance. ¡°My Lord Seth, your body is still recuperating from the taxing ordeal you endured at the hands of those poor, misguided souls.¡± Calling Tarik and his band of jackals ¡®misguided souls¡¯ was like calling the Arioch Wastelands warm. However, sensing an opening, I seized the moment, ¡°Which is why I¡¯d appreciate it if you would be by my side to offer assistance should I require it.¡± Of course, I¡¯d rather fall flat on my face, then be trampled by a herd of wild mammoths rather than ask anyone for help. Still, it was all for a higher cause. I really wanted those bastard gods dead. Soonish. In the end, we negotiated an uneasy compromise where I would only go out for a couple hours at most, accompanied by Zephyr, who was anxiously hovering near my side while obviously trying to pretend it wasn¡¯t so in order to soothe any wounded feelings I might harbor due to his lack of confidence in my physical prowess - or lack thereof; and Jae¡¯than, who having finished the last of the flatbreads had no choice than to wordlessly nod his agreement when Zephyr had not-quite asked him to become our guardian saint for the life-threatening endeavor that a simple tour through the tiny village marketplace would entail. No matter. I needed to wrap up this whole matter as soon as possible, since I was operating under a deadline. As I the task that lay ahead of me.. *Ttirring*
    You have received a quest: ¡°The Power of Capitalism.¡±
    The Power of CapitalismDifficulty: D
    Description: Few powers on Aeterna can match the impact a singular concept has made upon the history, culture and inclination of all its sentient beings: that of selling and buying. Whether the coin is gold, valuables, favors, pride, reputation.. Ultimately, there¡¯s little difference. One constant remains. Money is power. Goals: [/i]
    • Earn some money before the quest timer expires.
    • Secure a steady flow of income before the quest timer expires.
    • The more money you earn at once, the higher the rewards.
    While not necessarily an ¡°essential¡± building block on the road to happiness, money is nonetheless, a weighty factor which cannot be understated. That said, remember it is a double-edged sword. Go forth, then, on to the pursuit of money. Time remaining: 71:59:23Requirements:
    • Must not use violence in any shape or form.
    • Must adhere to the standards of local law and custom.
    • Results will be tallied after timer for current quest reaches zero.
    Quest Rewards:
    • XP and monetary rewards will differ depending on the amount of money earned through a single transaction.
    • Increase in Zephyr¡¯s loyalty.
    • ???
    Great, a quest. That would come in handy. Now, first things first, I needed to generate some income. Fast. Then I needed to secure a steady trickle of income. I also wanted to get ahold of any information I might be able to acquire on Tarik, especially the sort he wouldn¡¯t want circulating in public. Finally, I had to find a way to prevent my current bodyguard from killing me in 10 days¡¯ time. That was about it. Oh, right. I also needed to reclaim the lost Empire of Korandur from the sands of time, and then find a way to depose all the gods and end the world. When I looked at things from that perspective, all my current troubles seemed to shrink considerably. Amazing, what a little perspective can do for you. I just needed a break. C¡¯mon, luck.. c¡¯mon. And then, roughly thirty minutes after sniffing about in the marketplace, I struck gold. Jackpot! The break I needed. I almost couldn¡¯t believe my eyes as I counted the goods in question once, then recounted once more. Perfect! I hastily pulled Zephyr aside and whispered urgently in his ear, ¡°You mentioned paying for transport. What kind?¡± Zephyr was taken aback by my sudden line of questioning, and understandably so. ¡°Ah, well. It was a four-wheeled cart made of the stoutest oa..¡± I hissed him into silence, ¡°What kind of beast of burden?¡± ¡°Oh. Why, what other beast would be more suitable for the harsh trails and inclement weather of..¡± If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Zephyr!¡± I snarled. ¡°An, an auroch!¡± the young merchant finished, off-balance and still obviously puzzled by my sudden line of inquiry. ¡°Perfect! I guess that luck stat really can come in handy sometimes..¡± I murmured, and shrugged off Zephyr¡¯s uncomprehending expression. ¡°Never mind that. Zephyr, bring your auroch here now. And by now I mean 5 minutes ago. Then at my signal take it to that herd of aurochs over there. No time for questions. GO!¡± Zephyr looked as though he wanted to argue, but when he saw my eyes he swallowed whatever he¡¯d been about to say and rushed away. Good. I hadn¡¯t lost the old drill sergeant glare. Comes in handy when you need an order obeyed, no silly questions asked. As I waited for Zephyr to come back, I slowly made my way around the edges of the small crowd of onlookers that had gathered about a particularly feisty shouting match taking place right next to what seemed to be one of the more popular watering holes in the village. Three men, likely brothers or otherwise related, judging by their resemblance, were shouting imprecations at one another and waving some nasty-looking scimitars in the air. Looked like blood would be spilled soon enough, brothers or no. All over some aurochs, of all things. From what I¡¯d heard shouted over the din of the crowd, I¡¯d gotten the basic gist of it. It was the perfect opportunity for me to acquire some working capital. Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw good, trusty Zephyr rushing back, an aged auroch that looked to be in its last legs trailing behind him. Figures that¡¯d be the only animal he¡¯d have. Had I really expected anything else? Aurochs are huge beasts of burden, bearing some small resemblance to the water buffalo species in East Asia. However, they are twice as tall and weigh at least three times as much. They are tough, hardy creatures that are highly priced throughout Aeterna for their ability to draw prodigious amounts of weight behind them, as well as being able to defend said cargo from most small predators without any help from their drivers. Walking into the middle of the ring of onlookers, I cleared my throat as voices began to speculate on what the crazy foreigner in the beggar¡¯s outfit was trying to do. Ah, perhaps I should have minded my appearance beforehand. Too late now, I¡¯d just have to roll with it. ¡°Greetings, mighty warriors. May I ask to partake of some of your water?¡± By tribal custom, it was extremely rude to outright refuse a request for water when standing by a watering hole. Grudgingly, the three brothers slowly lowered their swords as they cast misgiving glares towards me. I blinked as though surprised to find myself the object of scrutiny from three burly men wielding wicked blades who didn¡¯t look the least bit happy about the fact that I¡¯d just prevented them from butchering one another. ¡°Who are you, stranger?¡± ¡°Draw your water and begone, beggar.¡± ¡°Of all the times..¡± I could sincerely echo the last one¡¯s feelings, but I had an act to put on. I blinked as my gaze traveled from face to face. ¡°My, I hadn¡¯t noticed, but you have the look of brothers, all bearing the same rugged lines of good, hardy desert stock, perhaps descended from the great Jar¡¯we himself.¡± I¡¯d done my research prior to coming to the Arioch Wastelands. It was a well known fact that most tribes claimed to be the last descendants of the last clan chief to have united them all and claimed the title of Great War Leader - The Great Khan, Jar¡¯we. Their expressions softened just a little, and they seemed genuinely surprised to find themselves gripping their swords quite so tightly. Why had they been doing such a tiresome thing in the first place? I vocalized that very same question, right on queue. ¡°I must wonder, however, why such worthy descendants of the Great Khan were arguing with one another?¡± This was the touchiest part of the whole plan. Of course, I¡¯d grasped the general situation just from the shouts I¡¯d overheard while I¡¯d still been walking with Zephyr, but I needed them to answer my question, thus acknowledging me as a part of the discussion. The reason why this was dangerous was because they might forget all about my flowery words of praise and go at each other¡¯s throats at any moment, under the slightest provocation. Fortunately, my luck seemed to hold. The eldest of the brothers returned his sword to its sheath and turned towards his kinsmen. ¡°These are my brothers, Cassim and Jabes. I am Zoar. Our father has passed away and left us his auroch herd, his life¡¯s work, as his inheritance. His last words before death were that I should receive one half of all the animals, as the eldest. Then Cassim would receive one third, as the second son. Finally, the third and youngest, Jabes, was to receive one ninth part of the herd.¡± I stroked my chin thoughtfully, ¡°A grand gift, worthy of a great man as his legacy for his offspring.¡± Zoar vigorously nodded his agreement, ¡°The problem is that there are 35 aurochs, and this makes it impossible to carry out father¡¯s last will. Half of 35 is 17 and half.¡± Cassim cut in, ¡°And a third of 35 is eleven heads and part of another auroch.¡± Jabes finished, ¡°My portion, a 9th part of 35, is to be three of the beasts, and then some. But aurochs are costly beasts, and we would lose a great deal if we were to butcher one just so we can split it between us all.¡± Zoar slapped a hand on the stone of the well next to him with a loud SMACK. ¡°Which is why..¡± he began ominously. ¡°Ah, I see the quandary that lies before you now,¡± I called out loudly, to forestall any further discussion among the brothers. They hardly looked any brighter than the beasts they were arguing over, and in fact I was surprised they were able to do the necessary math. What wouldn¡¯t surprise me at all was if they resumed their pointless feuding and got themselves killed before I got my cut. *Ttirring*
    You have received a quest: ¡°A Father¡¯s Legacy¡±
    A Father¡¯s LegacyDifficulty: D
    Description: The three brothers Zoar, Cassim and Jabes are quarrelling over the execution of their departed father¡¯s will. According to his well, Zoar is to receive one half, Cassim one third, and Jabes one ninth part of the herd of 35 aurochs. Resolve this conflict peacefully before a tragedy occurs. Goals:
    • Give Zoar half of the herd.
    • Give Cassim one third of the herd.
    • Give Jabes one ninth of the herd.
    Few things can sour a relationship faster than money. So it is with the brothers. You must find a solution that satisfies all parties equally while none are willing to compromise in the slightest. Avoid bloodshed at all costs!Requirements:
    • Avoid violence!
    • Must adhere to the standards of local law and custom.
    • All brothers must be satisfied by the final arrangement.
    Quest Rewards:
    • The brothers¡¯ gratitude.
    • ???
    Excellent. All preparations complete. Time to make my move. ¡°Great kinsmen of Jar¡¯we the Unifier, allow me to suggest a solution which I swear by all the gods will satisfy all three parties equally and fully. Zephyr, if you would.¡± I motioned to my partner, and he led his auroch to the herd of the three brothers¡¯ animals, as I had instructed beforehand. ¡°Allow me to make a gift of this animal to you, for the sake of solving this unfortunate quarrel with any needless bloodshed.¡± I hastily motioned Zephyr to silence behind my back, worried that he might protest. Upon turning to look upon him, however, I could see that he stood steadfast and willing to place the fate of his auroch - likely the only thing he had left other than the clothes on his back and the useless pile of ruined fabric in his tent - entirely in my hands. Fools never learn, do they? The gift obviously pleased the brothers, however. ¡°Speak on, stranger,¡± Zoar gestured expansively. ¡°You speak words of wisdom. Perhaps you are a descendant of Jar¡¯we yourself.¡± Not a chance, you great, lumbering fool. Taking a deep, steadying breath to keep my contempt in check, I nodded my thanks to Zoar, and resumed my prepared speech. ¡°As you can see, most worthy warriors, you now have 36 aurochs in your herd. Zoar, you were to receive half of 35, which would have been 17 heads and one half. Instead, please accept half of 36, which is 18. Do you swear by the gods to take this as your part in the will, and no more?¡± Zoar promptly nodded his agreement, likely fearing I¡¯d retract myself. The cretin. Like taking candy from a child. I nodded to Zoar, then turned to Cassim, who was stroking his chin with all the indications that a thought might be about to dawn for the first time upon his virgin mind. Then, it was gone, replaced by the blank, dumbfounded expression indicative of his appalling intellectual capacity, which was essential for the successful completion of my plan. ¡°Cassim, as the second son your share was one third of 35, which would have amounted to 11 heads and part of another. Since there are now 36, you may take 12 heads. Do you swear by the gods to keep these as your part of your father¡¯s will, and no more?¡± ¡°By the Guardians of the Dunes, I do!¡± shouted Cassim, likely thinking the same thing as Zoar. This was just too easy. I turned to the final brother, who far being suspicious, instead sat beaming a great, big, expectant smile of complete trust at me. Not one to disappoint an audience, I continued. ¡°Jabes, your share would have been a 9th part of 35, which is 3 heads and then some. Will you accept a 9th of 36, which is 4, and swear by the gods that you will take no more?¡± ¡°I do so swear, and may Ashkari the Huntress drive her spears through my black, treacherous heart should I be fail to keep my word!¡± ¡°It is agreed then, with the gods as our witnesses. Go gather your well deserved inheritance, my friends.¡± With hoots and joyful hollering, the brothers left to gather their animals, while the crowd quickly dispersed, grumbling their disappointed at the lack of sport. They¡¯d been hoping to see some blood. Jae¡¯thun came up to my side and sniffed. ¡°You have cost the merchant a great deal to help strangers, Khazik. Cattle herders. Maybe I have misjudged you,¡± he drawled out, and his expression let me know what he thought of catering to the whims of cattle farmers while calling them warriors. I simply grinned a great, toothy smile at him, and waited. Before long, there it was, the exclamation of surprise I¡¯d been waiting for. ¡°But.. how can this be..?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand..¡± ¡°.. Count again.. surely..!¡± I placidly strolled up to the three brothers, who wore identical faces of consternation and befuddlement, and murmured, ¡°Is something the matter, brothers?¡± Zoar squinted at me as though he knew exactly what he was supposed to say, but just couldn¡¯t put it to words. Perhaps there was hope for this one yet. Then Jabes promptly jumped in before he could do anything. ¡°We finished gathering our animals together, but it¡¯s the most damnable thing!¡± ¡°And just what might that be?¡± I asked casually. ¡°We have each taken our share of the herd, and we have counted and recounted them. Yet.. there¡¯s two animals left with no owner.¡± Of course there are, you misbegotten spawn of a goat. Learn to count, will you? 18 for Zoar, 12 for yourself, then 4 for Jabes. That¡¯s a total of 34 aurochs. It¡¯s the simplest bit of arithmetic. A child still suckling on his mother¡¯s teat could have seen that from a mile off. I clapped my hands in front of me once, as if to say, what a coincidence. ¡°Ah, perhaps one of those is my good friend¡¯s beast?¡± I could see that indeed it was. Obviously, no one had wanted to claim the ageing beast as his own. As for the other animal.. ¡°But wait, there¡¯s one last beast remaining.¡± I lay a heavy hand on Cassin¡¯s sweat-soaked shoulder. I¡¯d have to wash my hands thoroughly after this. ¡°Perhaps it is the will of the Gods. They have seen fit to reward your piousness and integrity by giving you one more auroch. May the gods stand witness that I have completed my oath to assist fairly and without thoughts of selfish gain.¡± Yeah right. Well, at part of the show folks. One last meaningful pat on Cassin¡¯s shoulder while gazing up at the skies as though I half expected a godling or two to boom his approval, then I slowly turned around and walked away. *Ttirring*
    You have completed a quest: ¡°A Father¡¯s Legacy¡±
    A Father¡¯s LegacyDifficulty: D
    Description: The three brothers Zoar, Cassim and Jabes are quarrelling over the execution of their departed father¡¯s will. According to his well, Zoar is to receive one half, Cassim one third, and Jabes one ninth part of the herd of 35 aurochs. Resolve this conflict peacefully before a tragedy occurs. Goals:
    • Give Zoar half of the herd.
    • Give Cassim one third of the herd.
    • Give Jabes one ninth of the herd.
    Few things can sour a relationship faster than money. So it is with the brothers. You must find a solution that satisfies all parties equally while none are willing to compromise in the slightest. Avoid bloodshed at all costs!Requirements:
    • Avoid violence!
    • Must adhere to the standards of local law and custom.
    • All brothers must be satisfied by the final arrangement.
    Quest Rewards:
    • 300 XP.
    • 10 fame.
    • 25 reputation with the villagers of Koma.
    • 1 gold solari.
    • Special reward: New trait acquired - ¡°Shameless manipulator ¡°
    • Special reward: New trait acquired - ¡°Devious mastermind¡±
    • Special reward: New trait acquired - ¡°Mathematical wizard¡±
    • Increase in Zephyr¡¯s loyalty.
    • Increase in Jae¡¯thun¡¯s loyalty.
    • Old manuscript.
    [i]
    *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! You have gained enough experience to reach level 2!.
    Hell yes! Quest completion, and a level up! About damn time! ¡°W.. wait, my friend! Hold your steps!¡± I wheeled around with the most innocent expression of genuine confusion on my face. ¡°Yes? What is it?¡± It was not easy. To be honest, this moment proved to be the most difficult part of the whole quest for me. I had to struggle mightily not to let my gloating sneer rise to the surface, pointing a mocking finger at them while holding on to my convulsing sides as I cackled madly. My fingers were twitching with the urge to just knock these three simpletons aside and take my well-deserved prize. But alas, it was not to be, so I endured. The brothers exchanged a long look, one that bespoke the terrible pain of letting a perfectly healthy auroch slip from their hands, balanced against the debt they felt they owed me. What tipped the scales were my barbed comments regarding their piety and standing by a solemn oath made to god. Ah, the virtues of advance planning and careful preparation of the battle ground. Sometimes it allowed you ambush an enemy out of nowhere, catching them completely unawares, as was the case in this instance. Gullible fools.. Finally reaching the inevitable decision, Zoar stepped forward. ¡°Stranger, maybe it is the will of the gods. It only seems fair that you should receive the last auroch, as you have..¡± I immediately snatched the reins of the auroch in question, without a single word. ¡°..Eh.. and.. Ahem, I would like you to have this ancient text handed down my family for generation after gener..¡± I practically ripped the manuscript from Zoar¡¯s paws. Mine! ¡°.. Ah.. well, and this gold we planned to use for our father¡¯s memorial bier..¡± I swooped in, and in an instant said gold piece had vanished into my pockets, leaving Zoar staring in confusion at his empty hand. Then, without further ado, I firmly tugged on the reins of my newly acquired auroch, and turned around to walk briskly away, gesturing for my companions to follow suit. ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± So long, suckers. The brothers could only stare in consternation as I led my new auroch away. Next to me walked Jae¡¯thun, who was still busy scratching his head and looking as though he¡¯d just swallowed a turd. ¡°Though I can not argue with the results,¡± commented Zephyr, who was walking his own beast next to me. ¡°I can not help but feel that there is something amiss in this whole scenario, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°You think? I just got me a free auroch worth..¡± I looked expectantly at Zephyr. ¡°Two gold solari, five silver eagles, at the very least. As much as four gold solari, perhaps.¡± ¡°5 solari,¡± I crowed happily. I was sure I could get that much at least, judging from the quality of my competition. I tapped the tattered book I held in my other hand. ¡°As well as a valuable treasure. All for 10 minutes of my time, and some second rate acting.¡± A book! At long last! Oh, I could cry from the joy of it, I never thought I¡¯d be so happy to see another book in my life. The first such I had seen since my arrival upon Aeterna. Finally, I would be able to unlock the full might and latent potential of the Scholar class. I veritably shook with the excitement of unwrapping my new present from the three fat, senile santas I¡¯d left behind. We walked in silence for a while, then Zephyr mumbled, ¡°I do not believe that was very nice of you, Lord Seth.¡± I grinned my huge grin once more. All teeth. Ah, the sweet taste of victory, how I have missed you. ¡°That,¡± I pointed out, in a voice so heavily dripping with smugness that it hung on the air like syrup. ¡°is because I am not a very nice man at all, Zephyr.¡± Zephyr nodded calmly back to me, sudden and deep understanding swirling in his eyes - as though he¡¯d just witnessed something both terrible and fascinating for the very first time, and for just a moment I felt as though I had just robbed the world of something far, far more precious than the price of an auroch. Then the moment was gone, and I went back to grinning like a wolfhound. Damn, but I loved to win. Chapter 9 - Preparations Chapter 9 - Preparations Frowning slightly, I had to shoulder aside the momentary lapse in which I allowed myself the luxury of admiring what might be the beginning of the fall from grace of a true, honest-to-god saint like Zephyr. It was bound to happen, eventually - nothing stays pure in this world. I also had something of a time bomb named Jae¡¯thun ticking over my head, with 10 days left and counting. As soon as we arrived back at Zephyr¡¯s little shack, I sent its owner off on an urgent errant. ¡°Such an ambitious bounty will not be yielded with alacrity or ease, Lord Seth. Such are the whims of Mother Nature as she-¡± Murmured Zephyr. I waved him off. ¡°That¡¯s not a problem. Just gather as much as you can within a day. Be back by tomorrow.¡± Zephyr¡¯s brow furrowed as he nodded, then headed out. I rubbed my palms together as I sat down and took out the precious book I had received as a quest reward. Finally, all my hardships for choosing the Scholar class would pay off. My hands veritably shook as I opened its cover, which read ¡°Umeji Clan Secret Skills¡±. It sounded very promising indeed. ¡°What the.. what is this gibberish?¡± *BLEEP*
    You are unable to perform the desired action!
    Your intelligence is too low to comprehend the elaborate text
    Required Intelligence:25
    I nearly tore the book in half. Or would have done so, if my hands had the strength. I immediately recalled that I had 10 points I could distribute since I had leveled up. But given my current Intelligence, I would not be able to read the book even if I put all 10 points into Intelligence. Besides, I had become seriously concerned about the crippling lack of strength and agility my current body had. I had been considering whether it would be worth investing a few points into my physical stats until I could at least defend myself. ¡°But then, why did I choose a scholar in the first place? What would be the point of being a brawny scholar? No, I must decipher what this book says.¡± Nodding to myself, I called up my status window and placed all my points into Intelligence. It definitely had to pay off. I had gambled everything into this, and I would not give up halfway. No, I had to see it through. Of course, that didn¡¯t mean I was going to wait with my arms crossed. I needed to become level 3, and experience would not just walk in the door. ¡°Umm.. excuse me.¡± I looked up to see one of the street urchins I¡¯d seen running around everywhere in this place. His clothes were ragged and I could see more grime than skin on him, but his eyes were clear and focused. ¡°Yeah? What do you want kid?¡± I muttered. ¡°A scary-looking man with a big scar across his face asked me to deliver this to you and to tell you that he would be back after the hunt.¡± Hunting. Jae¡¯thun had wandered off by himself without a word, just a respectful grunt and a nod towards me after I¡¯d won the quest rewards from the three brothers. Maybe he thought I would be able to take care of myself after all - or at least manage not to get myself killed before our duel in 10 days. I had sorely wished I could accompany him as I saw Jae¡¯thun hefting his spear, but ultimately I¡¯d decided against it. While hunting was always an excellent way to gain experience and loot, I was a level 2 Scholar - not the most ideal class for fighting or hunting. I was also injured, and would likely not be able to do much without Jae¡¯thun¡¯s assistance. Which he would provide - maybe - but hell if I would ask. So while my broken arm mended itself, I had to avail myself of what I could for now. I had already gained a level in little less than an hour. Perhaps I could find some more quests to complete.. ¡°Umm.. Mister?¡± I looked down to see the urchin holding out the small package wrapped in cloth Jae¡¯thun had left for me. When I opened it, my eyes widened. It was my book! I remembered now! Tarik¡¯s men had examined it but mysteriously tossed it next to me before I passed out. Why would they..? No matter. I had it now. I stopped to admire its exquisite craftmanship. It was a hefty volume, and the cover was of the finest leather, soft and supple to the touch yet firm enough to protect the precious pages within. Elegant, flowing script of some arcane language had been embossed in gold across it. How this book had gotten inside my pocket was a complete mystery to me. I distinctly remembered placing a rock there while I was in the caves for my soul forging. Maybe the gift Selendra had alluded to was this? If so, it must be a tome of great power! I paused with one hand on the cover to look at the kid in front of me. His eyes were staring at the book with unchecked curiousity. ¡°Hey kid. Do you like books?¡± The kid nodded to me, ¡°My grandad used to read to me from the tales of our ancient hunters.¡± ¡°Well, this is nothing like that. It wouldn¡¯t be an exaggeration to say this book is one of a kind. It is not from this world!¡± The child¡¯s eyes widened, and I grinned as I saw the wonder light up his gaze. ¡°Fufu, I will let you take a peek just because I¡¯m in a good mood today. It¡¯s your lucky day kid.¡± The urchin nodded empathically. I breathed deeply, then opened the book to the first page. And stared. Flipped to the next page. Stared. Next page. ¡°What in the..¡± I frantically combed through the entire book. ¡°Umm.. mister, your book is broken.¡± I scowled darkly at the kid before returning my gaze to the book in my hands. The pages were of the finest paper, pristine white and completely empty. There was nothing. All the pages were blank. ¡°What is this!?¡± The kid sniggered in my direction. ¡°I think you got the wrong book mister.¡± There was no way.. had they switched the book while I¡¯d been unconscious? No, Jae¡¯thun did not strike me as the kind of man to stoop to stealing books from destitute scholars. The urchin? No, the surprise in his face had been real. So what was the big deal with an empty book? A cypher of some sort? Chemically hidden ink? Different lighting? I grumbled under my breath. I didn¡¯t have time to waste on this garbage. I stowed the book away and returned to the business of slaying gods. Well, I¡¯d make do with one fat robber-become-merchant named Tarik. ¡°Hey kid, you look like a bright one. Do you want to earn a few coins?¡± The kid¡¯s eyes lit up again and he nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Do you know who Tarik is?¡± Another nod, with a scrunching up of the nose in distaste this time. I could sympathize. I pulled out a handful of copper pieces and handed them to him. ¡°I want you to follow him from a distance. Tell me what he does and who he talks to. If you return tomorrow and you have some good information, I will give you twice as much.¡± The kind beamed at me and ran off with the coins. Then I moved to a nearby table where I¡¯d seen some shears, and turned my attention to the bolts of cloth. ¡°Right. Time to get working..¡± I grasped the first bolt, turned it sideways, and started to cut an even swath down the middle. I was making field dressings. My movements were deft and practiced as I handled the material. When you got into as many scraps as I do, you learn a thing or two about mending broken bones and dressing up wounds. It was tricky with only one good hand, but I¡¯d had to deal with worse in my life. At first, my hands didn¡¯t want to follow the instructions my brain was issuing, but the task grew gradually easier, until I was veritably tearing through bale after bale of cloth. A couple hours later.. *TIRRING*
    Congratulations! You have learned a new skill!
    Bandage Making - You are able to dress wounds in order to remove various status effects and boost your natural HP recovery rate
    Skill Level:Beginner (1/100)
    *TIRRING*
    Congratulations! You have learned a new recipe!
    Crude Bandage - A roughly cut strip of cloth that may be tied about a wound to prevent further blood loss. Not the most efficient, but it will do in a pinch.
    Effect:Treats minor blood loss, boosts HP regeneration by a small factor.
    And so, my second night in Aeterna was spent making bandages. Small steps.. [c]***[/c] I was able to catch a couple hours of sleep before Zephyr walked in with two huge bundles of weeds in his arms. The smell that filled up the room made my eyes water, but Zephyr seemed impervious. ¡°Ugh. I thought the splint on my arm was bad, but this is even worse!¡± Zephyr smiled affably at me. ¡°Well, the smell does intensify after they are treated in order to bring out their maximum healing properties.¡± ¡°You mean it gets even worse?¡± ¡°Oh, indubitably so, Lord Seth. Why, if I do not badly misrecall, there are records of some aboriginal tribes using it as a weapon.¡± ¡°I can see why. Never mind that, how long will it take to treat these plants to make them into the same salve I¡¯ve got on?¡± Zephyr¡¯s answer, as always, was as immediate as it was accurate. ¡°Seventy three stalks which would take 6 hours in eight batches, producing approximately..¡± I waved off the rest. ¡°That¡¯s fine, that¡¯s fine. Let¡¯s get started.¡± Zephyr¡¯s brow furrowed slightly as he took in the mountains of bandages lying behind me. ¡°I was bored,¡± I quipped. At my partner¡¯s raised eyebrow, I shrugged. ¡°This is the best idea I could come up with in short notice. The Ae¡¯sur tribes are mostly a nomadic people who live for the hunt, right?¡± Zephyr nodded. ¡°I spoke to Jae¡¯thun earlier, and my impression was that once if you¡¯re wounded out there, you¡¯re on your own until you get back to the village and request the services of the tribal witch doctor. It seems the services are in high demand.¡± ¡°They are indeed,¡± Zephyr agreed. ¡°This is why the services are priced accordingly. Well, one of the things that surprised me was how effective your salve was Zephyr. I could hardly feel any pain, and after examining my wound yesterday, I could see it was well on its way to being healed. Now, imagine you¡¯re a hunter and you are on the trail. You are wounded but so is your prey. Would you rather come limping back as a failure to lick your wounds, or pay slightly more to heal yourself on the spot and continue the hunt until you run your prey down?¡± ¡°The latter option does sound infinitely more appealing, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. So we¡¯re going into the medical supply business. Your bales of cloth are of surprisingly good quality - botched dye job aside, of course. They¡¯re absorbent and sturdy while allowing the air to flow. That¡¯s pretty ideal for a bandage. If we add in a small package of salve, plus a demonstration here by yours truly.. I think we might be able to eke out a tidy profit from your failed investment, Zephyr.¡± Zephyr was nodding along with me. ¡°A most astute business plan, Lord Seth. Many Ae¡¯Sur tribes consider herb gathering to be beneath them, besides which the healing poultice I produced is a little known recipe from the Church of Arabelle. I shall get started on producing the salve immediately.¡± ¡°Oh, I couldn¡¯t let you do all the hard work yourself. I will help you.¡± ¡°That is unnecessary, as you are still wounde..¡± ¡°Oh, I insist,¡± I cut him off firmly. ¡°Well, the process isn¡¯t very complicated, and it should not be terribly taxing on your constitution. Very well, Lord Seth. Thank you for your kind assistance.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re in this together.. partner.¡± I replied jovially. Besides, I wasn¡¯t going to let the opportunity to learn a new skill pass me by. ¡°So, tell me more about this plant? Where do you find it? How do you gather it? Oh, the preparation process as well..¡± *TIRRING*
    Congratulations! You have learned a new skill!
    Herbalism - You are able to forage and utilize various plants and herbs for medicinal purposes.
    Skill Level:Beginner (1/100)
    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.*TIRRING*
    Congratulations! You have learned a new recipe!
    Stink Salve - Named after its smell, you will never quite forget it once you catch a whiff. Surprisingly effective when applied directly to wounds, it boosts HP regeneration and improves healing.
    Skill Level:Beginner (1/100)
    By midday, the salve was prepared, and it became a huge hit. The smell could have been better, but not having to return to the village for minor wounds was incredibly advantageous. After seeing its effects on my own wound, soon there was a line of customers eagerly waiting to get their hands on their own stink kit. Their name, not mine. Judging from the appearance of most of my customers, their sense of smell had probably shorted out from their own stench in any case. This was further boosted by what I¡¯ve come to call the ¡°Zephyr Effect¡±. That very same innocence and endless faith my partner possessed imbued him with an aura of honesty that was very hard to resist. Thus, when he truthfully advertised the healing properties of our product, it became a most effective advertising tool. While Zephyr took care of the bulk of the sales, I kept my eye out for the outliers, for the opportunities lying about. ¡°You there. You look like you¡¯ve had a good expedition. How about we help each other out? I could get you some extra discount on a full stack of my product if you could tell me about the area..¡± Know yourself and know your enemy, and you shall win a 100 battles out of 100. Information was priceless, and since most hunters here had recently returned, not only was the information fresh, they would also be less reticent to share it since they would not be going back out until they spent all their money. ¡°So, desert rabbits are roving about just west of the village? Good profit from their hides? I see.. continue..¡± ¡°Wild dogs packs are rampaging through the east fields? Not worth the hassle?¡± ¡°A seldom visited oasis near the sand lizard mating grounds? So, where exactly is this..¡± By the end of the day, we had sold near one fifth of our inventory. That yielded a small fortune of 3 gold. Zephyr could pay the costs of this trip just on those funds alone! We split the money - with Zephyr generously deciding to give me half the proceeds. I decided I could definitely see the charm in this guy. Towards the end of the day, the grimy little urchin I¡¯d sent off on my little covert mission came back with news. ¡°So, he¡¯s been talking to the caravan masters. Looks like he is planning on heading out to the greater markets to auction off Sol and Reaver. Hmm. Good, looks like I may have a little more time.¡± It was time to put that pain in the ass mutt - Reaver - to good use. The next day I conferred with Zephyr, and he obediently went to the central square market in the village to rent a stall for our goods. Meanwhile, I acquired a dozen or so empty clay urns, filled them with water and sent them to Zephyr. Business was brisk as usual at our stall, but I was careful not to draw any eyes to me. Zephyr attracted plenty of attention, and drew huge crowds with our miraculous salve, so it wasn¡¯t hard. Now came the tricky part of my plan - bringing down Tarik. First of all, I used some of my funds to purchase a few necessary goods. I finally got out of my robes, and into something more comfortable. I found some light clothes from a second hand goods store. The clothes didn¡¯t concern me much, but I did pay extra for the shoes. In life as a soldier, you come to realize the value of a good pair of boots. Then I stopped by a weapons stall that had been recommended to me by Jae¡¯thun. I don¡¯t care how ugly he looks, an experienced warrior lives and dies by the tools he uses. I couldn¡¯t afford anything near as good as that deadly spear he always carried by his side, but I asked for a skilled weaponsmith. ¡°What do you want?¡± was the inauspicious greeting I received upon entering, more of a grunt than anything else. It was a humble looking shop with a worn old sign that read, ¡°Agnos¡¯¡±, hidden between many bigger and more colorful buildings. However, one glance at the wall where the goods were exhibited told me I¡¯d come to the right place. There were none of the flashier or more elaborately decorated weapons I¡¯d seen in the other shops near this one. In fact, the shop right across from this one proudly displayed some obscenities that looked more like a bad fashion accessory than an instrument of death. Not so with this shop. The weapons were plain and well-crafted, with practicality in mind rather than decor. One particular set of knife and sword caught my eye. It was a polished pair of weapons with a well-maintained edge, one more of a utilitarian choice while the sword practically screamed murder. I could see they¡¯d seen some use, but it didn¡¯t take away from the overall quality of the weapons. ¡°May I?¡± I asked, with my hands hovering near the hilt of the sword. The shopkeeper, whom I assumed to be Agnos, raised an eyebrow at my choice, then grunted his assent. ¡°Good choice, maybe you know what you¡¯re about.¡± I nodded my thanks while I carefully picked up the sword. It was much heavier than it looked, but I had expected that. By now, I¡¯d come to terms - more or less - with my own limitations. I could barely sprint for 100 feet before running out of breath, and lifting more than 100 lbs seemed beyond me.
    Sharp Dagger
    Type:Edged WeaponDamage:4 - 6
    Bonus:May be used as a thrown weaponDurability:40/40
    Quality:C
    A well-crafted dagger that has seen some use, but still retains an edge. The blade is a little worn, but well maintained. Requirements: Level 1. Strength 6.
    Well-Balanced Sword
    Type:Edged WeaponDamage:8-10
    Bonus:-Durability:50/50
    Quality:C
    Careful crafting has yielded a high quality blade that distributes its weight evenly to make handling that much easier. Requirements: Level 1. Strength 8.
    Though it taxed my arms greatly, I lightly spun the sword around - being very careful not to drop it. It was difficult because I could feel what little strength I had in my grip quickly leaving me, but I kept it up. That was enough for me to see it had excellent balance and weight distribution. ¡°I¡¯m impressed. Pity they¡¯re secondhand goods.¡± The shop owner grunted. ¡°Served their master well.¡± ¡°You made these?¡± ¡°As everything else within these walls.¡± I quickly evaluated the man, then I decided against haggling. This was a man who valued his craft more than he did his customers. ¡°Yet they found their way back to you.¡± ¡°Yes, well. The previous owner got in beyond his head. Only thing they found of him were those weapons and some bones. They found my mark on them and knew I¡¯d pay to get them back.¡± ¡°How much do you want for these?¡± ¡°1 gold for the dagger. 2 for the sword.¡± came the flat reply. My eyes widened slightly at the outrageous price. Well, you get what you pay for. ¡°Done.¡± I could read the surprise in his eyes. He hadn¡¯t expected that. ¡°I can see they¡¯re well worth it, even if your competitor across the street says otherwise.¡± ¡°Eh? Haman¡¯s been running off his mouth again?¡± ¡°Fat guy across the street wearing more jewelry than his wife? Yeah, he told me I was wasting my time coming here. Said you¡¯d charge a newcomer an arm and a leg just for lousy second pickings off the street.¡± ¡°Why that damn bastard.. fine. You can have them both for 2 gold. Lets see what Haman¡¯s got to say about that.¡± ¡°No, I couldn¡¯t take advantage of you. How about this? I will pay you 2 and a half gold if you can help me with a particular problem.¡± ¡°Hmm. What¡¯s that?¡± After I explained the situation, he grunted. ¡°That could be worked out. Wait a moment.¡± He went to the back of the shop, and came back with a small bag that clunked slightly, as well as two sheaths. ¡°What you asked me for,¡± He said, handing me the bag. ¡°And you will need these for the swords. On the house. It is not often people appreciate the finer art of weapon smithing.¡± ¡°The tools make the man, and I¡¯m about to make a killing.¡± Agnus chuckled ruefully. ¡°With that grip, I hope it is you that makes the killing and not the other way around.¡± I glanced sideways at him. ¡°Can¡¯t fool those eyes, eh?¡± ¡°Your posture is a little unorthodox, but your center of gravity is off. It¡¯s as though you¡¯ve been sick for a long time?¡± ¡°Something like that,¡± I grunted. Then my face lit up. ¡°Truth to tell, I was infirm for a long time but there were better days when I lived and died by my sword. Say, I could use some help in getting back into shape.¡± Agnus looked at me dubiously. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see many sword users here, but I can tell you did your share of sword fighting back in your days. I didn¡¯t miss the look in your eyes when I was trying out your sword. How about it? I can get back into shape and you can remember those bygone days.¡± ¡°There are plenty of younger ones who could..¡± ¡°Yeah, fops who will buy the abominations sold at the shop across from you. No, I would speak to you blade to blade.¡± Agnus squinted at me. Then after a moment, he nodded slowly. ¡°Fine, I could see the merit in that. But first you need to recover your endurance and strength. The way you are now, I wouldn¡¯t even break out a sweat. Come back then.¡± *Ttirring*
    You have received a quest: ¡°Honing the Blade¡±
    Honing the Blade Difficulty: F
    Description: A sharp edge imbued with the right purpose will reach great heights. You have the opportunity to walk down the road of the swordsman.Goals:
    • Raise your STR to 20
    • Raise your STAMINA to 15
    Agnus, the swordsmith, has agreed to help you hone your skills with the sword if you return when you have fulfilled his requirementsRequirements:
    • STR 20
    • STAMINA 15
    Quest Rewards:
    • 200 xp
    • Sword Proficiency
    I nodded. ¡°Thank you. I will be back. I¡¯m Seth.¡± ¡°Agnus.¡± Without any further words, I walked out. Excellent! I¡¯d found a trainer. I had wondered when I¡¯d seen so many swords at this shop when most hunters in the village favored spears and javelins. I had followed my instincts and it had paid off. I didn¡¯t expect much since I was still a Scholar, but perhaps something could be salvaged here. First, I needed to train myself up. ¡°Alright, time to jog back with weights,¡± I murmured while hefting both my new blades. I couldn¡¯t wait to try them out. All the preparations were complete, and I was burning to inflict some payback on Tarik. Whoever said vengeance is best served cold was wrong. Dead wrong, and I would drown the world in flames to prove it. Chapter 10 - The Hero Chapter 10 - The Hero The darkest time of the night is right before morning dawns on a new day. Thus I found myself squatting by the shadow of a withered tree while watching an impressive complex of houses and stables, just as all the birds started to greet the new morning with their trills. A far less pleasant sound - a loud sniffling - came from over my shoulder. ¡°Kyren, I told you to stop that,¡± I snapped. ¡°B.. but it¡¯s cold,¡± came the sullen reply. It was. Most people did not know just how cold deserts could be during the night. Sure, the daytime would scorch all the water from your body, but then the nights would just freeze it bone dry. ¡°Someone will spot us if you keep making so much noise. Remind me again, why are you here?¡± ¡°Sniff, to keep an eye out.. sniff¡± ¡°And..¡± I prompted. ¡°To assist with ''The Plan''.¡± ¡°Right. You will do neither if you get caught by a guard because of all your sniffing. Now hush.¡± ¡°B.. but it¡¯s cold..¡± mumbled Kyren, the little brat who had suddenly become my right hand man in this operation. I had learned that Kyren was the head of a little band of street urchins who made their living by running errands and the occasional ¡°borrowing¡± of goods while no one was the wiser. This meant living constantly hungry and on the run from the very same people whom you depended on to give you scraps for menial work. Threats, insults and beatings were no strangers to these kids. It is a rough life all around. I could admire Kyren¡¯s resourcefulness. When I¡¯d gone looking for him in order to draw some last minute information on Tarik, I¡¯d been surprised to find some other kid staking out the place. I¡¯d decided to quietly watch from far off. After an hour or so, another urchin had quietly come to take his place after briefly exchanging some murmured words. I followed the kid who¡¯d just gotten off-duty, so to speak, all the way to a tiny alley a fair distance away where a handful of kids waited along with Kyren himself. Their ages ranged from being barely more than toddlers to Kyren, who was almost - if not quite - a teen. Probably just a couple years older than Sol. 12 maybe? While the little street gang wasn¡¯t basking in the lap of luxury, at least they seemed to have a warm place to take shelter and draw strength from their companions. I could now see why Jae¡¯thun had seen fit to trust Kyren with returning the book to me. Sharp judge of character, that one. I could use the help of someone as street-savvy as Kyren. As a bonus, his services came cheap and no one paid any mind to an alley cat, anyhow. So, I¡¯d paid Kyren off for the information on Tarik, then made him a new offer. After some brief negotiations - which included a sharp knuckle to the head - Kyren had grudgingly agreed my price was more reasonable while rubbing the top of his head. The little brat, he wanted to haggle with me. The nerve! I liked the guts on this kid already. So now we found ourselves staking out Tarik¡¯s house, which was almost a villa in its own right. It consisted of several buildings that served as living quarters, as well as a couple warehouses and some stables. According to Kyren, there were usually a couple of armed guards patrolling the grounds during the night - more to deter any thieves aiming to get into the warehouses. Resourceful kid he was, Kyren had even managed to enter the building under the pretext of a misdelivered message and scoped out the place. There were half a dozen thugs inside, as well as some serving people. No signs of Sol or Reaver, though he¡¯d heard some frightful growling sounds coming from an abandoned shack near the rear of the property. That was enough for my purposes. Tonight, I would need Reaver. Sol would have to wait till later. I extracted each item from the bag at my belt, the one I''d received from Agnus. I made one last inspection of each item, which would prove vital for my mission tonight. I also checked my belt for the dagger I''d bought. I''d left the sword behind with KYren as it would likely only serve to further encumber me. I¡¯d tried taking a few practice swings but my arms just could not bear the burden long enough to serve me in a fight. Taking a deep breath, I drew a hood over my head, then nodded to Kyren. ¡°Alright kid, it¡¯s show time. Remember your role, I¡¯m counting on you!¡± Kyren nodded excitedly. ¡°This is just like the tales grandad would read to me! We¡¯re going to rescue the chick in distress!¡± ¡°Damsel kid, it¡¯s called a damsel in distress.¡± Kyren nodded, his good mood not dampened in the slightest. With one last nod to Kyren, I made my way along the rear wall of Tarik¡¯s complex. Fortunately, he was too much of a cheapskate to pay for decent lamps. Instead, a couple torches were held by a couple guards as they slowly made the rounds. This made it exceptionally easy to infiltrate the premises. Didn¡¯t they know they were only blinding themselves as well as letting everyone know their exact positions at all times? With a shrug, I carefully made my way over the wall. I emphasize the word careful because while in my real body I would have been able to vault over the pitiful obstacle with ease, I¡¯d learned to be very careful with my new body. My arm seemed to be almost completely healed. It stood to reason that even broken bones would be mended with incredible speed in a VR environment. However, the healing salve was also just as vital. It really was quite effective. Now if it only didn''t reek quite so badly. So, being very careful not to make any noise, I slid over the wall and safely landed on the other side. It was a clear night and that gave me enough light to guide my steps. I immediately made my way to the building Kyren had spoken of. It was an abandoned shack that had fallen into disrepair. It stood far enough from the house that most noises from within would not reach the main house. Knowing the mutt, I doubted he''d given up, even after all this time. I could only hope. This would not work without him. Peering through the cracks in the wall, I quickly realized it was hopeless to try to distinguish any shapes in the gloom within. However, the smell told me everything I needed to know. No doubt they''d tied Reaver and left him to his own devices. The stink of urine and offal was strong. Thanks to the smell, I doubted any guards would be inside with the mutt. "Reaver? Are you there?" I felt stupid talking to a dog, but I needed to make sure he was inside and still alive. "Reaver? Answer me, you damn mutt. Reaver!" I whispered as urgently as I dared. Soon, I could hear some shuffling noises from within, and a single sapphire flame came to life from within the shadows, burning with unsettling intensity. Then it blinked. "Reaver!" A menacing growl came from within, but was instantly changed to a snuffling whine after it took a few whiffs of the air. Good doggie, it still recognized my scent. "That''s right, it¡¯s me and I''m gonna get you out of here. But first I need to make sure you''re not going to bite my head off." Another plaintive whine, as if to say, "Really? C''mon, I would never.." I suppressed a tight smile, then took opened the bag I''d received from Agnus. From within, I took out a small jar of grease. I liberally applied it on the hinges of the door, as well as the stout bar holding it shut. Then I carefully slid the doors open. Satisfied that no noise had been made, I shuffled inside. I could barely make out the shape of Reaver within the shadows, quietly waiting for me. This was one smart son of a gun. I''d been worried that he''d start barking or worse, howling as soon as he saw me. However, I''d seen just how clever Reaver was from his interactions with Sol a couple days back. This had a good chance of working if I could make Reaver understand and cooperate.. "Reaver, good boy. Now remember.. Gah!" Whatever instructions came next, they were drowned in dog drool as Reaver pounced on me as soon as I was within reach and frantically licked my face. "S.. Stop that! Ugh, you damn mutt. It is good to see your ugly mug too, but we gotta get you out of here." Reaver nuzzled my chest and gave a plaintive whine, then looked towards the main house. "We can''t get Sol. Not right now. You need to understand this." I looked into the beast''s eyes as I spoke slowly. "I have a plan. We will come back for Sol, but not now. Tonight, I need you to do something." Reaver held my gaze for a moment, then hung his head and whimpered while covering his eyes with his paws. Damn, just how smart was this mutt? "Alright, stay still while I get the chains off. The guards should be rotating just about now, so we have some time but we have to make it count." Reaver complied while I examined his bindings. A rusty chain almost as thick as my wrist had been attached to a cruel collar with iron spikes lining the inside. It was crusted with blood. Reaver was a fighter, even when there seemed to be little to no hope. Damn if this mutt didn''t take after my own heart. The collar itself had a rustic lock that shouldn''t take much to pick. I withdrew a couple pins from my little bag of tricks. They were no lockpicks, but I doubted a respectable weaponsmith such as Agnus would have them, and these iron pins would do for such an easy lock. *Whine* "I know. Now shut up, I''m working as fast as I can." What the hell was wrong here? I should have been done in a couple minutes, tops. Instead the pins kept slipping in my hands and I couldn''t get the leverage to turn the tumblers in the lock. Don''t tell me my agility was simply too low. C''mon, I could have picked this with a blindfold over my eyes and a hand tied behind my back. *Grrrrrr* A low rumbling growl emanated from Reaver''s chest. I turned my head around and cursed as I saw a circle of light slowly approaching from the far end. "Damn, that guard was supposed to be relieved. What''s going on here?" A creaking sound could be heard as Reaver began to pull against the chain impatiently. "Hold up you damn mutt, I''m working as fast as I can. It''s almost.." *SNAP* I stared dumbfounded at the broken pin in my hands. Of all the.. this was just ridiculous. My stealth operations trainer would never let me live it down, if he knew. *GRRRR* Another growl, more urgent this time. I turned my head to see the light even closer. It appeared to be heading this way. Though I had made sure to close the door, upon close inspection he''d notice the bar was gone. 15 seconds at most until he was close enough to notice. I had to do some quick thinking. "Alright, new plan. Go to that corner and stay quiet. You got that? Not a squeak from you, or I swear I''ll leave you here for them to make a rug out of you." Was that.. did that damn mutt just roll his eyes at me? Whatever. I maneuvered the chains so it looked as though they were slack and lying on the floor. Reaver was conveniently hidden in a dark, recessed corner of the room. I quickly swung the door completely open, then hid behind the wall next to the doorway while liberally spraying the remaining grease on the floor. Just on cue, the sound of boots announced the guard approaching. Then there was a moment of silence, and immediately steps rushing forward. "What the.. what happened here? The beast has escaped?" As the circle of light drew closer, I waited behind the wall with my dagger firmly in hand and prayed this guard was as dumb as his voice made him sound. *C''mon, don''t alert the other guard. Just come take a look. A quick look. That''s all I ask for..* "I can''t believe this.. the door''s open, and the beast is gone. I have to alert the rest of.." Just then his body cleared the doorway. The circle of light from his torch revealed Reaver lurking in his dark corner. The guard looked in confusion at Reaver, who was still firmly chained, then back over his shoulder to the open door, uncomprehending. Just then I made my decision, and sheathing my dagger, I dashed from behind the wall to give the guard a nice firm shove! It is a sad day when you don''t dare hit someone behind the head in case you sprain your wrist instead of giving your opponent a mild concussion. In any case, the shove did the trick. The guard was overbalanced and stepped over the floor, slick with grease. He slipped, did a funny roll that looked rather painful, and landed on his face. And then he realized just how much trouble he was in, as he heard the rumbling growl as Reaver looked down at him, lean mean killing machine and all. The guard fainted dead away. Didn¡¯t even put up a fight. Reaver looked like he couldn''t believe it. He nudged the guard''s head and even gave a couple experimental tugs with his fangs, but the guard was completely out. Then I noticed it was the same thug who had fainted when I''d swung the broomstick at his face a couple days ago. Not for the faint of heart, this business. "Alright Reaver, now we''re set. Wait, wait. What are you? No, not yet!" Too late, as Reaver was busy relieving himself on top of the prone guard. I didn''t mind that assertion of his dominance at all. I would have bitten the guard''s head off in swift retribution, but to each his own. However, this left me with an annoying problem. "Damn mutt.. I still need to search him for the keys.." A few messy, awkward moments later, I was set. Fortunately, the guard did carry the keys to Reaver¡¯s chains. After freeing him, I carefully deposited the keys back in the guard¡¯s pocket. There were some coins jingling there as well, but I had to leave them alone. All for the sake of the plan. I turned my regard to Reaver. He sat on his haunches, staring back at me with quiet intensity. Damn, this mutt was so smart it was scary. ¡°Alright, now listen up. We need to help Sol, but if you go into that house, you will only get yourself and Sol killed in the process.¡± Reaver sniffed loudly, as though to dispute my evaluation of his fighting prowess. ¡°Shush you. Now, I have a plan that will get both of you free, but you have to do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?¡± Reaver looked aggrieved to be denied his opportunity to go on a rampage against his torturers, but he whined his assent. ¡°Good. Then this is what is going to happen..¡± I explained, as I took out a hat and extended it to Reaver. ¡°Mister, is that you?¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not me. Of course it is me. What happened? Why did that guard not get relieved?¡± Kyren shuffled his feet and grinned sheepishly at me. ¡°I think his replacement had a hangover so he had to do an extra shift.¡± I sighed loudly. Well, no matter. ¡°Are you ready for your part?¡± Kyren positively beamed at me. ¡°We sure are!¡± ¡°Alright then, lets get to it. Remember, enough to cause a commotion but not so much as to be too obvious..¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°I got it, I got it. Jeez mister, you can nag worse than gramps used to, ya kno?¡± Before I had a chance to refute that with another knuckle to his head, Kyren ducked out of the way and ran up the street towards the entrance of Tarik¡¯s house. He was joined on the way by 6 or 7 other kids his age, all yelling and laughing as they threw a bundle back and forth. ¡°Hey kids, beat it,¡± started to rumble the guard stationed by the entrance, when Kyren missed his throw and the bundle sailed over the wall of Tarik¡¯s house. The sleepy guard was overwhelmed in a matter of seconds as the gang of kids ran rampant and ran into the house. The sounds within were pandemonium as the house slowly came awake. Further yells from angry adults could be heard against the wild laughter of the kids as they moved out of the house and into the back yard. Good. They would make it. ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that smell?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, it smells like your mother¡¯s ass.¡± ¡°What did you say?¡± ¡°Lets open it and see!¡± ¡°You damn brats, stay away from that door!¡± More screams, then a huge uproar as the sound of wood splintering under a fierce impact could be heard. Then it was true chaos. ¡°The beast is loose!¡± ¡°Catch it!¡± ¡°Be careful! It almost tore Aggar¡¯s arm off!¡± Reaver¡¯s howling could be heard filling the early dawn light spilling into the streets. Then I could see an unbelievably fast shadow streak past the entrance of Tarik¡¯s house. Several angry men armed to their teeth rushed out, followed by the children who were either incredible actors or were truly running for their lives. A half-dressed Tarik rushed onto the street behind his men. ¡°Leave the damn brats alone for now and catch that beast before it gets away!¡± I grinned from my concealed shadow, then turned around to skip along while whistling a jolly little tune. Ah, revenge always felt so good, it warmed my parched heart like a shot of tequila. And this was not the end of Tarik¡¯s troubles. Not by far. *** I made my way back to Zephyr¡¯s shop just in time to witness the aftermath of the incident. A rapidly growing crowd of onlookers watched on as a helpless Zephyr stood outside his shop while jarring sounds of broken pottery and sloshing liquids could be heard within. As I drew closer I could pick up conversations being held within the crowd. ¡°.. knew that beast was trouble, poor merchant..¡± ¡°.. ain¡¯t gonna risk my neck, seen that thing¡¯s fangs?¡± ¡°.. where are the guards?¡± As I walked up to the shop, Kyren was there to greet me with a conniving grin. I extended my hand and he handed me my sword, which I¡¯d left with him for safekeeping. I passed him another handful of coins and a nod of acknowledgement for a job well done. Kyren made an elaborate bow towards me then inclined his head towards the spectacle unfolding itself in Zephyr¡¯s shop. Cheeky brat. Right. Time for the show to start then. I had plenty of time to leisuredly make my way here. After I showed Zephyr''s hat to Reaver, he had the scent and I was sure he would be able to reach the shop without my help. From there, all he had to do was.. well, be Reaver. I cleared my throat delicately, then launched into my part with gusto. ¡°Halt, you ruinous beast!¡± I cried out in my best Zephyr-esque tone. ¡°I will slay you where you stand lest you surrender!¡± Suddenly, all sounds from within the shop stopped. Moments later, Reaver stalked out of the entrance towards the sound of my voice before lifting his head and howling loudly enough to hurt my ears. Immediately, a path opened in the crowd like the parting of the Red Sea, leading from Reaver straight towards me. Reaver obliged by fixing his eyes on me while a loud threatening growl resonated from his chest. He was covered in red liquid, which looked almost like blood. That, and the feral glint in his eyes gave off an aura of pressure that was almost palpable. Damn fine acting, that mutt. He¡¯d missed his calling. Of course, that wasn''t blood covering every inch of Reaver. It was merely water mixed with a cheap red dye. I had the jugs filled with it just for this moment. Half the show is in the props, after all. I unsheathed my sword in the most dramatic fashion possible and approached Reaver, who was covered in blood and snarled to display fangs the size of knives. Right then, at the perfect moment while the crowd hardly dared to breathe - couldn''t have timed it better myself - I heard Kyren¡¯s voice from the background. ¡°He¡¯s going to fight it on his own. A hero!¡± Quickly, other children¡¯s voices joined him. ¡°Incredible, he¡¯s gonna stop the beast!¡± ¡°So brave!¡± ¡°The hero!¡± ¡°The Hero!¡± The latter become a chant that was taken up by the crowd. People do some pretty stupid stuff once there are enough of them that they don¡¯t feel like they need to own up to it afterwards. Some call it peer pressure, I call it stupid sheep mentality. I blame it for most of the stupid shit big crowds will do. Of course, I could barely hold up my sword, but Reaver let me off easy. My footwork was solid enough, and we danced back and forth for a while with the crowd ¡°Ooooh¡±ing and ¡°Ahhh¡¯ing appreciatively. After a while, I checked over my shoulder and caught Kyren¡¯s look. It was time. I whispered something to Reaver, then I daringly rolled under his claws and ¡°slashed¡± him in the underbelly. Of course, I did no such but Reaver was completely covered in red liquid so there was a spray of ¡°blood¡± and the crowd roared its approval when Reaver mewled weakly and lay panting on the ground. As I drew the sword up for the killing stroke, I heard Tarik¡¯s voice from behind me. ¡°STOP! That beast is my property!¡± A wheezing Tarik squeezed in between the crowd along with a couple of his cronies. No doubt the rest were on their way, but by the time they all got here it would be over. Without turning to look at him directly, I once again raised my sword up high. ¡°I must slay the beast while it is weakened! You lay empty claims on it!¡± ¡°You will do no such thing! As of two days ago, ownership..!¡± Then Tarik paused as he took stock of the situation. ¡°I see. So this beast is yours,¡± I repeated softly, then swiftly sheathed my sword and turned around to look Tarik in the eye. Tarik squinted at me for a moment, then gave a small cry. ¡°You! It¡¯s you!¡± I feigned ignorance while playing up to the crowd. ¡°Well, see the chaos your beast has unleashed upon this peaceful merchant and his wares.¡± Right on queue, Zephyr stepped up next to me with a woeful expression on his face. He was a terrible actor but I had expected no better. ¡°Indeed, mine wares have been most ruinously mishandled and abused. It shall spell my utter ruin! Wherefore shall I obtain just compensation for my grief?¡± ¡°Alright Zephyr, enough. Don¡¯t overdo it,¡± I whispered to him. Tarik spluttered his outrage, but the crowd had its gaze on him. ¡°But.. but it¡¯s all a setup. I know this trash from before..¡± Kyren¡¯s voice cut him off, still safely hidden within the crowd. ¡°Did the fatty just call the hero ¡®trash¡¯?¡± Laughter rang out and mixed in with outrage as the crowd reacted. Damn, I''d have to pay Kyren extra. Kid was talented. ¡°But he rescued the merchant while his beast..¡± ¡°Of all the irresponsible things to say..¡± "Tarik just can''t see well enough with his big pot belly on the way!" The crowd started to boo and jeer at Tarik. Then the village¡¯s guards finally arrived. ¡°Make way for the guard. Make way.¡± A middle-aged guard with an annoyed expression squeezed in through the crowd along with a handful of warriors. He examined the scene before turning towards Tarik with a weary eye. ¡°Care to explain the situation, Tarik? What have you done this time?¡± Excellent. I had counted on scum like Tarik having a low reputation with both the townsfolk and the guards. Looked like it was paying off. I had given Zephyr a whole speech I¡¯d prepared beforehand, but I didn¡¯t even need to bother. The crowd rushed forward to explain in minute detail. The rampaging beast, the grieved merchant, and me, the hero riding in to the rescue. They did especially well with the details of the fight, with some excellent dramatic renditions of my duel with Reaver which were frankly very flattering. Then they sneered as they mentioned Tarik¡¯s involvement. ¡°So, who¡¯s responsible for this mess? You, Tarik? Is the beast truly yours, as you claim?¡± Caught in a vise, Tarik looked around for support but the whole crowd seemed to be ready to pounce on him. ¡°Uh.. ah, no. I misspoke. I am merely giving.. ah, shelter to the beast¡¯s owner. Homeless brat by the name of Sol. You know him, no?¡± The guard squinted at Tarik like he was suspicious of something, but nodded. ¡°Yeah, Sol and his dog. Damn, it got big. I heard you¡¯d claimed rights of possession on both of them, no? Something about a sheep or cattle?¡± Tarik laughed nervously while wringing his hands. ¡°Ha. Hahah. Pl.. please, watcher Vyse. Would I truly be so heartless as to take a dog from its owner just over some lost cattle? Probably fell in a well somewhere. What will you accuse me of next, selling innocent children to the slavers?¡± Tarik¡¯s uneasy smile wilted under the Vyse¡¯s withering look. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t surprise me in the slightest.¡± ¡°Ha. Hahah. Your sense of humor always takes me by surprise, watcher Vyse.¡± Vyse snorted. ¡°Alright, so who¡¯s going to take responsibility for this beast?¡± I coughed delicately and stepped forward. ¡°I will, watcher Vyse.¡± Vyse turned to look at me with a healthy dose of skepticism. ¡°You, stranger? You already half-slew the poor beast, why would you want to take responsibility for it?¡± I spread my hands in a placating gesture. ¡°I could do no less. Since I have become involved in the matter, I must see it through to its end.¡± Vyse gave me a grudging nod of respect. ¡°I see. Wish some could learn from your example, stranger.¡± He gave Tarik another withering glare. Before the situation could get out of my hands, I coughed delicately. ¡°While I will be responsible for the beast and its owner - the child - from this moment onward, I believe fair compensation should be dispensed for this honest merchant and his grief. Watcher Vyse, does the tribal rule specify that children can be held accountable for crimes committed by themselves or their property while they are under the guardianship of an adult?" Vyse quickly shook his head. "That would be ridiculous. Children must take refuge from the adult who is sheltering them." I nodded to Vyse as though surprised. "I see. That would mean the compensation would have to come from.." Vyse nodded back to me and turned toward Tarik, who spluttered in outrage. "Yes, Tarik. You will have to come with me and resolve this matter of compensation. Sir Merchant, if you would come with me?" Zephyr nodded limply with his shoulders slumped. Maybe there was still hope for that one in the world of drama. I nodded my agreement. "I shall, of course, take charge of the beast and the child immediately, and do so gladly. I don¡¯t believe the beast or the child who owns it are beyond redemption.¡± Vyse shrugged. ¡°Well, it¡¯s your funeral then. Makes my job easier, so that¡¯s good. Now Tarik, you and I are going to have a long conversation about the child who¡¯s a ¡®guest¡¯ in your house.¡± Tarik paled, but nodded stiffly. As they turned to leave, the crowd started chanting again. ¡°The hero!¡± ¡°The Hero!¡± ¡°THE HERO!¡± *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! Your Trait "Shameless Manipulator" has reached rank F level 2.
    Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
    Shameless ManipulatorF295%
    Life is a spectacle, and we all have a role to play in it. How fortunate it is then, that you happen to be the script writer. You have cultivated the art of manipulating event and circumstance so that the dice eventually roll your way. You gain a great boost to your charisma and communication skills, but suffer in penalty as the Gods frown upon your creative rendering of the truth as you perceive it. Charisma bonus: +2 Trading bonus: +1 Persuation bonus: +1 Diplomacy bonus: +1 Faith penalty: -2
    *TIRRING!* ]
    Congratulations! Your Trait "Devious Mastermind" has reached rank F level 2.
    Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
    Devious MastermindF295%
    No matter what path you tread, there are always those who lead, and those being led. You have excelled in the former, and thus earned the right to impose your will on the latter. Your clever plans and intricate stratagems will grant a permanent bonus to your Wisdom and Intelligence! Unfortunately, your Charisma will suffer as a result of mistrust and fear of your intellect. Faith will also be lowered as you rely on your own intellect rather than the Gods'' intervention. Intelligence bonus: +2 Wisdom bonus: +1 Charisma penalty: -1 Faith penalty: -1
    As Vyse led Tarik away, I didn¡¯t miss the promise of murder and vengeance painted all over the merchant-turned-thug¡¯s expression. Ha. Bring it. Anytime. I am, after all, the hero. ¡°HERO HERO HERO!¡± Chapter 11 - The Expedition Chapter 11 - The Expedition As the crowds were slowly dispersing, I basked in the feeling of victory. Payback would mean at least 15 or 20 gold in compensation for the ¡°goods¡± that were lost, since I¡¯d instructed Zephyr to pass it off as medicinal supplies. That¡¯s what we¡¯d been making a killing from, so no one would dispute the claims. I¡¯d paid all of 60 silvers for the earthenware jugs, plus a handful more for the dyes. This meant Zephyr and I were in for one heck of a windfall. Just then, I felt a hand land on my shoulder. ¡°Hey, you.. ah..¡± started watcher Vyse. ¡°I¡¯m Seth,¡± I responded amiably. ¡°Right. Seth, I appreciate what you¡¯ve done. Things could have gotten out of hand.¡± Vyse sighed heavily, then drew me closer as he continued in a low tone. ¡°Look, I¡¯ve known the kid and the little beast - well, not so little anymore - for as long as they¡¯ve been in town. Sol is a good kid. I don¡¯t know where he came from, and he has no kin here. Kid¡¯s got heart though, and so does the beast. I hope you¡¯re not too harsh on them.¡± I raised my eyebrow but nodded in acquiescence, ¡°Of course. I too would like to give them a chance at a better life.¡± ¡°Good, good. Just so we understand each other though, Tarik¡¯s got some bad blood with the kid and the beast. I can slap him on the wrist but that¡¯s about it. He¡¯s got deep pockets and many friends. I think it would be best if Sol weren¡¯t around for a while. For that matter, same goes for you. Tarik¡¯s vicious and he¡¯ll come after you no matter what I do. As for the beast, you¡¯d better speak to an experienced hunter. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve noticed, but there¡¯s much more to it than meets the eye.¡± ¡°What do you mean, watcher Vyse?¡± ¡°Look, just ask around - discreetly. He¡¯s getting big, and that eyepatch isn¡¯t gonna work forever. Sooner or later, the truth will be known.¡± I looked at Vyse in surprise. ¡°You mean you knew he was a Kha¡¯zik?¡± Vyse nodded grimly. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you know that. Reaver is still just a pup, which is why not many have made the connection yet. But he¡¯s just too damn smart. No regular dog can be that clever. Besides, soon his fangs will grow and the eyepatch won¡¯t be able to hide the Bloodgem any longer. He can¡¯t stay. Either the guard will be forced to kill it, or bloodgem hunters will.¡± ¡°Bloodgem?¡± I repeated stupidly. ¡°Aye. Kha¡¯ziks have one blue eye, icy cold like the heart of winter. The other burns fiercely with a scarlet darker than blood. The older and more powerful the Kha¡¯zik grows, the brighter the bloodgem will burn. There¡¯s many folk tales about supernatural feats performed by Kha¡¯zik whose eyes were trailing a crimson blaze. I don¡¯t know how true the tales are, but bloodgems are worth a fortune as a magical reagent, especially those harvested from fully grown Kha¡¯zik. That¡¯s why bloodgem hunters have driven them to the edge of extinction.¡± I looked dubiously at Reaver. That mutt was a priceless magical reagent? At least that explained how it could be so damn smart. ¡°You understand now? I can¡¯t protect that pair any longer,¡± continued Vyse. ¡°I¡¯ve done what I could but that¡¯s about as far as I can go. You need to leave town at least for a while, until they can fend for themselves. Kha¡¯zik mature rapidly, and even someone as foolhardy as Tarik would think twice about crossing a full-grown Khazik.¡± I nodded to Vyse. ¡°I will see to it. Although.. I hardly know anything about Sol. Where did he come from? Where¡¯s his family?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the thousand gold question,¡± muttered Vyse. ¡°I know as much as you do. Two years ago he showed up with Reaver as a newborn pup. They were still young enough that the villagers took pity on them and let them stay. You¡¯ll have to find those answers on your own. Oh, and that obscenity of a sword. More like a lump of steel. Sol never goes anywhere without it. I¡¯ll make sure Tarik returns it when he frees Sol.¡± ¡°You have my thanks, watcher Vyse.¡± Vyse offered his hand to me, ¡°Seth, my friends call me Vyse. Let me know if you need anything before you leave.¡± I took his hand and shook it firmly. ¡°I will. Take care, Vyse.¡± Vyse nodded to me, then turned around to lead his men away with Tarik and Zephyr in tow. I turned to Reaver, who was still lying on the ground, breathing harshly. I nudged him with my boot. ¡°That¡¯s enough, you can get up now. Good acting, by the way.¡± When Reaver didn¡¯t reply, I knelt down to study his wounds more closely. They were far more serious than I¡¯d assumed. Of course, he¡¯d fought off Tarik¡¯s men and then had probably been starved for the past couple days while struggling against the collar on his neck. ¡°Reaver! Damn, I didn¡¯t even..¡± I was at a loss for words. Zephyr, the closest thing to a doctor I knew in this place, had just left. ¡°C¡¯mon Reaver, hang on,¡± I urged him, a lump forming in my throat. He¡¯d fought like a champ even though he was probably half-delirious from his wounds and malnutrition. Reaver¡¯s eyes had a dull sheen, and his breathing came in labored gasps as his chest worked furiously. ¡°Hang on buddy, I¡¯ll take care of you. You did good today, you hear me? You saved Sol. That¡¯s right, you did it.¡± *** In the end, it took almost an hour for Kyren and I to carry Reaver back to our little hut on Zephyr¡¯s wagon. Most of that time was spent loading and unloading Reaver as carefully as possible. He was almost too heavy for both of us, but we managed. It pained me more than I care to admit to see this fierce beast reduced to such a state. Damn Tarik. I sent Kyren off to buy some food for Reaver while I used some of Zephyr¡¯s salve on his wounds. Reaver protested weakly as soon as he caught a whiff, but I scolded him gently and he subsided. Soon after the food arrived, Reaver devoured it and entered a deep slumber, which I took to be a good sign. Examining Reaver, I had to admit he was a rather striking creature. Long, soft silver fur covered most of Reaver except for a couple patches of black on his tail and one ear. He had a long, lean muzzle that concealed an impressive array of fangs. His neck was long and elegant but well muscled, and I had no doubt he could tear a limb off a horse if he wanted to. His paws were almost as big as my own hands, and much thicker, with claws that were almost an inch long and filed to razor sharpness. ¡°And he¡¯s still a pup? Just how big do they get? I almost feel bad for the poor bastard that tries to hunt you down, boy.¡± I stroked Reaver¡¯s head while lost in thought. I had originally planned on staying in town until I could find some way to deal with Jae¡¯thun¡¯s challenge. However, circumstances had changed. I had managed to save Sol and Reaver, but now Tarik would not rest until he utterly crushed me. Not that it would take much to achieve that. Looking down at myself, I had to admit I had seldom felt so powerless in my life. I¡¯d always had my fists and my wits. Between an uneasy compromise of both, I¡¯d taken down challenge after challenge. No mountain had been too high, no sky too wide. I¡¯d taken on the world, and revelled at the feeling. Now.. I sighed deeply as I made a fist with my right hand, which had only recently healed. I couldn¡¯t even knock out a clumsy third rate toadie from a minor town bully. I once had occasion to spar against the then MMA super-heavy weight champion of the world, and though I¡¯d lost, I¡¯d given as well as I¡¯d taken. Truth to tell, if we¡¯d played by my rules instead of his, I was confident the result would have been different. Now I couldn¡¯t even deliver a proper cross counter without shattering my own wrist. Suddenly, I realized I¡¯d been gouging the palm of my hand with my own nails. I opened my fist and watched as the blood slowly trickled from the wound. It was all so realistic. I could hardly believe this wasn¡¯t my hand. I suppose it would be, from now on. My own hand in real life had been a knobby mess crisscrossed with countless scars, stitches, and the odd bullet-hole burn mark here and there. This hand looked pristine, without even a single callus to bear witness to any feats of endurance or strength. That¡¯s right. This was a fresh start. A new beginning. I was like a newly born babe. I would need to reinvent myself from the ground up. I would have to go back to my high school days, when I¡¯d first learned fighting was more than just swinging fists wildly until one side lay in a crumpled heap. From what I¡¯d seen, a few hours of bandage making had given me the skill. There seemed to be no reason why it would be any different for other skills. First, though, I needed to raise my physical condition. That meant Strength, Agility and Constitution. Though my priorities were still Intelligence and Wisdom, I needed to reach a point where I could at least survive a passing encounter against an alley mugger or street scum like Tarik''s men. Still, I felt stubbornly reluctant to devote any of my level up points to Strength and Agility. While a balanced approach might work for some, it was also an expressway to mediocrity. I couldn''t afford to waste a single point. If only I could find another way to raise my physical stats. So far, the different traits and achievements I''d earned had helped, but I couldn''t rely on them. Would training my body yield the desired results? In my past life, I''d designed some of the most rigorous training regimes for some of the most elite special forces recruits in the planet. I knew a thing or two about conditioning. If in real life a man''s body and spirit could be crushed to rebuild a far stronger one from the ground up, then the same could also hold true here in Aeterna. If that were so, even though I was from the Scholar class, perhaps I''d be able to create at the very least a basic foundation upon which to build some semblance of combat readiness. An expedition to the world outside the village would prove vital in proving these theories. Until then, I couldn''t afford to waste a single point. When anyone else would have been pounding their fists against the floor, regretting their past choices, I was a different beast altogether. Past was past, and while it couldn''t be changed, I could learn from it. I could adapt and evolve. That meant no more overestimating my own abilities, no rushing in blindly trusting my combat instincts, and definitely no more cross counters. Also, in the short term, my inability to fight meant I couldn¡¯t hunt and gain levels the regular way - at least not by myself. That¡¯s why most scholars would choose to start out in a sophisticated urban area. There they could carry out research in order to gain free levels while learning a relevant profession which would help them survive the harsh reality of the world outside. Of course, there were no libraries or centers of learning in the Arioch Wastelands. No, there was one. The Imperial Library of Legendary Korendur. I would find it, but I would need to stay alive long enough to reach it first. That''s why I had Sol and Reaver. While part of me rebelled at the idea of having to take care of a kid and a mutt when I couldn¡¯t even look out for myself, another, far less travelled side of my heart grew a little warm at the idea of watching them grow while spending time with them. Teaching them the art of combat, the rigors of training, the heat of battle and the sweet taste of victory. That''s what made for true companions. Friends, even. Perhaps I wasn¡¯t such a tough guy, after all. Nodding to myself, I quickly drew up a plan to take a 5 day expedition away from the city. All that information gathering I had done while Zephyr sold our product would finally pay off. I knew exactly what route to take, where to stop, what to hunt, and what NOT to hunt, which would be vital for our undermanned, underpowered little party. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Thankfully, I still had a whole week before my duel with Jae¡¯thun. I would have to postpone my showdown with Tarik until then. In case things didn¡¯t pan out, however, I wouldn¡¯t go down to Jae¡¯thun without a fight. I needed to push myself to my limits in these next 5 days. I needed to thrust myself into the very crucible of battle and reforge myself into a weapon. Of course, that wasn''t all. I would have to make other preparations as well. I''d already sent Kyren off with detailed instructions. Look, I relished a fair fight as much as the next guy, but I had bigger goals than some stiff-necked hunter with a deathwish. If push came to shove, I would do anything - literally anything - to survive my match with Jae¡¯thun. He was still innocent enough that he believed in things like honor and fair fights. Fool. Like a newborn babe, he had a lot to learn about the world we live in. Of course, I¡¯d much rather turn Jae¡¯thun into an ally. A hunter with his experience would be a priceless asset. So the crux of the matter became Tarik. I would need to have one final showdown with him, with everything on the line. If I could only convince Jae¡¯thun to look past his damn honor.. With a shake of my head, I made a mental list of the supplies we would need and the preparations we would have to make. Thinking of finally going out on a real hunt got my blood pumping. I¡¯d been spoiling for a proper fight. It had been far too long. Time to feed the beast. And I wasn¡¯t talking about Reaver. *** ¡°MIIIIISTER!¡± I winced as I turned around, then was immediately bowled over as Sol leapt into my arms and buried his face in my chest. ¡°Waaaa, I was so scared. Thank you so much for saving Reaver! I don¡¯t know.. hic, I don¡¯t know what I would do without..¡± I chuckled ruefully as I patted Sol¡¯s head, or tried to, but by then Reaver had knocked both of us down again as he pounced and indiscriminately ran his tongue up and down our faces. ¡°Gah. Both of you. Off. NOW!¡± Sol at least managed to look a little guilty as he hugged Reaver, but the damn beast didn¡¯t look the least bit penitent. In fact, I could swear it was snickering at me. Bah! While Sol was busy checking Reaver over and Reaver was doing the same for Sol, I drew Zephyr closer. ¡°So, the profit from our latest enterprise?¡± ¡°Here it is, Lord Seth. 10 gold, a glorious bounty - and most well deserved, may I add.¡± I stared at Zephyr, stupefied. ¡°T.. ten gold? I told you to ask for at least 25!¡± Zephyr frowned as he mulled it over. ¡°Yes, you did say that, but did you not agree that Tarik would seek to bargain it down?¡± ¡°Yes, which is why you should have received 20!¡± ¡°Well, we had neglected to consider the true market value of unsold goods in an unstable environm..¡± I clamped a hand over my face as I motioned for him to stop. Patience, patience, must resist - can¡¯t murder my own business partner, much as he may deserve it. ¡°So, basically,¡± I uttered hoarsely, still unbelieving. ¡°You let that worm Tarik haggle you down from 25 gold to 10?¡± ¡°Well, I would not go so far as to characterize his actions as haggling, so much as a renegotiation of terms..¡± Zephyr stopped as he caught the murderous glare in my eyes. ¡°Ahem, yes. He did.¡± I sighed heavily, but had expected as much already. Letting Zephyr enter the bargaining table with a conniving bastard like Tarik was like asking him to steal candy from a babe. ¡°I had assumed that 10 gold would be a satisfactory conclusion and a rather hefty profit margin from your initial investment, Lord Seth. After all, our real supply of salves and bandages still lie safely within our storage chest.¡± ¡°Yeah, whatever,¡± I muttered glumly. ¡°Never mind that. Look, Zephyr. There¡¯s been a change of plans. I need to take the kids away for a while,¡± I motioned with my head towards Sol and Reaver. ¡°We will need supplies for a 5 day expedition. I¡¯ve already drawn enough information from many of our clients that I have an itinerary. I also bargained for a decent map. Can you take care of food, water, and medical supplies?¡± Zephyr looked at me with bewilderment. ¡°Ah, of course, Lord Seth. Would you prefer hard tack or dried goods?¡± ¡°A mixture of both will do. I expect we won¡¯t need them if our hunt goes well enough, but it pays to be prepared.¡± ¡°Hunt?¡± chimed in Sol, and even Reaver seemed to be alert, with his tail wagging frantically to and fro. ¡°Yes, settle down. We are going away for a while. It¡¯s getting too hot for us here.¡± Sol beamed at me with happy eyes while hugging that monstrous sword to his chest. ¡°I finally get to show you Malky.¡± ¡°Malky? You named that abomination of a sword.. Malky?¡± That was just wrong. I would name my teddy bear Malky, not an instrument of wholesale slaughter. Sol frowned at me. ¡°Abomination? What¡¯s that? And Sol didn¡¯t name anything. Malky is Malky.¡± ¡°Uh-huh, whatever. Come along kids, we have some shopping to do before we leave. I plan to be on the road by dawn tomorrow. Zephyr, please have the supplies loaded on top of my Auroch. I¡¯ll be taking it along for this trip.¡± Zephyr nodded. ¡°It shall be done, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°Also, if you see Jae¡¯thun, let him know I need to speak to him.¡± ¡°As you wish, Lord Seth.¡± I herded the children out, then paused at the doorway. ¡°By the way Zephyr, why do you insist on calling me ¡®Lord¡¯ Seth?¡± Zephyr smiled at me with that radiant honesty of his. ¡°Because that¡¯s who you are. Lord Seth.¡± I scratched my head, but since there seemed to be no further explanation, I just shrugged and left. As I stepped outside, I thought I heard Zephyr whisper, ¡°Godspeed, Lord Seth.¡± *** Agnus grunted a wordless greeting as I stepped inside with Sol and Reaver. I¡¯d warned Reaver to be on his best behavior, and so far he¡¯d complied, following along quietly. ¡°Agnus, your sword served me well. I vanquished a mighty foe indeed,¡± I quipped, nodding towards Reaver. Agnus chuckled, which was not an easy thing to accomplish. ¡°I¡¯ve heard the tales of the hero. Figured it had something to do with you.¡± ¡°I did manage to slip your name in while showing off your sword in front of the crowd,¡± I added hopefully. Agnus scratched his beard as he nodded. ¡°Have hardly had any time to sit down all day, thanks to your damn meddling. Eh, well, I suppose I had some extra inventory collecting too much dust in the back. More customers can¡¯t hurt. Too much, that is. Eh, here, I found this lying around while I was cleaning up around the back. Might come in handy.¡± I caught the bundle and grunted as its weight hit me. I opened the bag to find a meticulously crafted set of leather armor, complete with a cuirass for chest protection, greaves for the legs and bracers for the arms. I examined the full set.
    Superior Aged Leather Armor Set
    Type:LeatherDefense:20
    Bonus:Weight reductionDurability:40/40
    Quality:C
    A pliable set of tough leather, it will turn away any but the fiercest of blows. Lovingly crafted by a master of the trade, this armor had its weight further reduced without compromising its performance. While it is old and worn with age, it has been well cared for.
    ¡°Agnus, this is too much,¡± I murmured, shocked. Even worn and aged as it was, a set like this would cost several gold pieces, and I could tell this one was of superior quality. Even the weight had been reduced! Agnus scowled, ¡°Well, they might be too much for yer ailing body to handle, but you better grow into them if you hope to give me a proper workout.¡± I grinned as I took out the armor and tried it on. It fit perfectly. I raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Agnus. ¡°Just found it lying around, did you?¡± Agnus¡¯ scowled deepened even more. ¡°Bah, did you actually come here for something, or yer just looking to pester me to death?¡± ¡°Actually, I need some equipment for him,¡± I replied, nodding towards Sol. Sol looked up at me in wonder, ¡°I¡¯m getting a fancy set of armor too, mister?¡± Reaver¡¯s ears perked up as well. I almost expected him to echo Sol¡¯s question. I was rather disappointed when he didn¡¯t speak up. Damn dog had me going crazy. ¡°You will need adequate protection out there. I haven¡¯t seen if you can actually handle that big lump of yours..¡± ¡°Malky,¡± Sol interrupted. ¡°Whatever. My philosophy is to prevent rather than lament.¡± Agnus tugged on his beard while considering Sol thoughtfully. ¡°Well, I might have something that can fit the kid there. Let me see..¡± he mumbled as he shuffled towards the back. I nodded towards Agnus¡¯ retreating back. ¡°You know I appreciate your craft. Get me something I can work with, and I¡¯ll put up the cash.¡± He came back with an odd-looking set of buckles and straps attached to some plates. The whole thing looked like a dubious proposition. ¡°Hey, don¡¯t judge before you see the results,¡± muttered Agnus. After he helped Sol fit it on, he stepped back to admire his work. I had to admit I was impressed. Sol¡¯s new armor consisted of a pair of bracers with tough leather lining on the outside. He also wore a shoulder pad with thick straps of leather running across his chest and back for added protection against glancing blows and cuts. All in all, it kept everything fairly light while adding some protection. I paid Agnus without haggling, and added a few more coins. Agnus raised his eyebrow but silently took the offered payment. We had an understanding of sorts now. We would look out for each others'' interests, no words needed. It was good to work with a professional. ¡°Also, could you take a look at that thing Sol¡¯s been carrying around on his back? Sol, hand it over.¡± Sol reluctantly parted with his sword while Agnus took a look. The old man was surprisingly strong as he had no trouble flipping it this way and that to examine it, and even going as far as taking a few practice swings. ¡°Hmm. Interesting work. The material is top notch, but there are several flaws running through the blade. There seems to be a pattern to it, almost as though they¡¯d been placed there on purpose. If you leave it with me, I could look at it in more detail.¡± Glancing at Sol¡¯s look of dismay, I had to shake my head. ¡°No can do, apparently its owner isn¡¯t willing to part with it. Perhaps when we come back to town.¡± ¡°Ah, so you are leaving?¡± Agnus asked while handing the sword back to Sol, who hugged it gratefully to his chest before strapping it onto his back. ¡°Yes, though it¡¯s only for a week. Need some special training.¡± ¡°Hah. I just hope the sand tigers don¡¯t make a snack out of your party.¡± ¡°I pity the sand tiger that crosses our path. I¡¯d bring its hide for you to make a nice rug from.¡± ¡°Hah. Now that¡¯s the confidence you need. Good luck, Seth.¡± I waved a hand at Agnus over my back, then exited the shop. The preparations were complete. Chapter 12 - The Sentient Artifact Chapter 12 - The Sentient Artifact After getting back to the shack, Zephyr had not returned yet, so I spent the time examining the book I¡¯d brought with me from my Soul Forging. I still could not quite believe it was completely blank. I felt there was an important secret to be solved here. After a couple hours of scrutiny, however, I could find nothing. Sighing in frustration, I set the book down on the desk and took out the manuscript I¡¯d received as a quest reward. I¡¯d be able to unlock its secrets once I level up - which would happen any moment now. The timer was almost up. I had timed events so that I would finish the quest, ¡°The Power of Capitalism¡± right before going hunting. I carefully set down the manuscript on the desk, next to the book, and decided I could use a little fresh air. I¡¯d spent far too long pent up inside trying to solve the riddle of the book. A fresh, cool breeze was blowing and I could see the stars illuminating the clear evening sky. From inside I could hear the quiet snoring from Sol and Reaver. Those two seemed to be inseparable. That would be good for them as I put them through my hellish training. I had a specific training menu in mind already, and they would need every iota of strength and willpower they could muster to keep up. In the army, they had not called me the watchdog from hell for nothing. I¡¯d let them rest for today, but from tomorrow I¡¯d let them taste hell. Heh. Heheheh. While I was busy imagining the different training menus from hell I¡¯d put that pair through.. *Ttirring*
    You have successfully completed a quest: ¡°The Power of Capitalism.¡±
    The Power of CapitalismDifficulty: D
    Description: Few powers on Aeterna can match the impact a singular concept has made upon the history, culture and inclination of all its sentient beings: that of selling and buying. Whether the coin is gold, valuables, favors, pride, reputation.. Ultimately, there¡¯s little difference. One constant remains. Money is power. Goals:
    • Earn some money.
    • The more money you earn at once, the higher the rewards.
    While not necessarily an ¡°essential¡± building block on the road to happiness, money is nonetheless, a weighty factor which cannot be understated. That said, remember it is a double-edged sword. Go forth, then, on to the pursuit of money.Requirements:
    • Must not use violence in any shape or form.
    • Must adhere to the standards of local law and custom.
    • Must acquire permanent material wealth.
    Quest Rewards:
    • 500 XP
    • 25% increased XP gain for the next 72 hours.
    • 25% increased drop rate for the next 72 hours.
    • Zephyr¡¯s loyalty increased by 200
    *TIRRING!* ]
    Congratulations! You have earned a new trait: ¡°Overachiever!¡±.
    Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
    OverachieverF21%
    By consistently reaching beyond what seems logical, reasonable or even possible, you have proven you have what it takes to be a lifetime overachiever. To the victor go the spoils! Strength bonus: +2 Agility bonus: +1 Constitution bonus: +1 Intelligence bonus: +1 Wisdom bonus: +1 Charisma bonus: +1 Luck bonus: +1
    Perfect timing! A bonus to experience and drop rates for the next three days! That was an incredible boon! I would put it to good use. This new trait was incredible as well. It was almost like another level all by itself, and it had started in rank 2 instead of 1! It was definitely worth going the extra mile when completing quests. Not only that, but with that much XP.. *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! You have gained enough experience to reach level 3!.
    Finally! Level 3! That meant I could put 5 more points into intelligence and decipher the manuscript! I wondered what secret skills the Umeji clan had left behind. I immediately headed back inside to do just that. ¡°What?!¡± The manuscript was gone! I had placed it on the desk right next to the red tome not 5 minutes ago! There was only one entrance and I¡¯d been standing right on top of it. Sol and Reaver were still happily snoring away. What was going on here? I searched the drawers, looked behind the desk, rummaged through my pack, and I still couldn¡¯t find a trace of the manuscript. It was enough to drive a man insane. What was going on here? Even after waking up Sol and Reaver, neither had a clue of where the manuscript had gone. I couldn¡¯t believe it. I had just left it on the desk. I was still furiously searching every nook and cranny in the house when Zephyr arrived. ¡°Lord Seth, is something the matter?¡± ¡°I.. arg, do you have anything like djinns or ghosts haunting your house that would scamper around stealing items?¡± Zephyr stood there just looking at me as though he were worried I might have overdosed on that salve of his. ¡°Nevermind.¡± I just could not understand what had happened. The secret skills of the Umeji clan.. gone. In truth, I didn¡¯t expect any world-changing skills from such a simple quest reward, but it was still something related to my class, if vaguely. ¡°If I ever catch that thief though, I will tear him limb from limb and use the remains to..¡± Just then, I heard a sound like a sob from somewhere near the table. ¡°Wha..? Was that.. Zephyr?¡± I looked at the priest-turned-merchant. Zephyr rapidly shook his head at me. ¡°I believe the sound originated from that side of the room, Lord Seth.¡± I nodded towards the desk. There was no room for anything to hide under or behind it. That could only mean.. the book?! I cautiously approached it and examined it more closely. Now that I paid closer attention, it seemed to have shifted slightly from the place where I had left it. Not only that, but it seemed to irradiate warmth where before it had simply been a book. What was going on here? A cursed item? I drew my dagger and poked at its spine. I did not expect what happened next. ¡°OOOWWW!¡± The gold sigils on its cover turned a deep purplish color and formed themselves into the outlines of a sad face smiley. =( I reeled back in shock, almost tripping over myself as the voice, almost that of a small child, resonated from - that¡¯s right, the book! Now, of all things, it started to cry in earnest! ¡°Waaaah!¡± Of course, the smiley on the book¡¯s cover had changed accordingly. =---( ¡°What in the world..?¡± I glanced sideways at Zephyr, who looked as perplexed as I was, though his eyes had something more along the lines of awe and wonder in them than the bewilderment I was feeling. ¡°Sh.. shut up!¡± I shouted, unable to bear it any longer. If anything annoyed the living crap out of me, it was crying. Unfortunately, that only made it worse. ¡°Uwaaaaaaaaah!¡± Holy.. I covered my ears with my hands and looked for the nearest source of fire so that I could dispose of this artifact of the devil with all due haste! If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°There, there,¡± said Zephyr, who slowly approached the book, still with that look of awe in his face. The book was shaking uncontrollably, and there were even tears gathering in a pool around it. It didn¡¯t make any sense! The book didn¡¯t even have any eyes - except for that silly smiley face - for crying out loud! That¡¯s exactly what it was doing though, and the sound was driving me insane. ¡°Stop it! I don¡¯t care what you have to do. Gah, I¡¯ll just stab it with my..¡± I raised my dagger. That was my first response to any emergency. If it hurts, stab it untill it stops. Zephyr swiftly turned around and interposed himself between me and the book. ¡°Now now, let us not be hasty, Lord Seth. This may be a priceless artifa..¡± ¡°Waaaah, mommy doesn¡¯t love Shia!¡± came the wailing voice from the book. Zephyr and I both turned around to look at it with equally dumbfounded confusion in our faces. ¡°Did.. did it just call me..?¡± ¡°Mommy?¡± nodded Zephyr, hesitantly. ¡°Mommy, Shia¡¯s sowwy.. waaaah.¡± I looked around the room, feeling more panicked than when Tarik had been about half a second from driving a foot of steel through my chest. Zephyr was looking at me with something akin to amusement in his eyes, and both Sol and Reaver were openly snickering at my expense. ¡°Mo.. mommy?¡± ¡°uh.. uh-huh.. sob sob¡± came the reply. ¡°Wa.. wait a second. I¡¯m your mommy? How.. before that, who the hell.. ah, who are you?¡± I asked, very slowly and in measured tones. ¡°I¡¯m.. uwa.. I¡¯m mommy¡¯s child. Shia!¡± ¡°Child? You¡¯re.. you¡¯re a book!¡± I blurted out, unable to hold myself back. ¡°Waaaaah, mommy¡¯s mean..¡± wailed the book once more, and a fresh torrent of tears splashed about the desk. D---= ¡°S.. stop. Wait. I didn¡¯t mean it. Ah, damn it.. arg, here, here, stop crying. C¡¯mon, stop.¡± I entreated. Anything to stop that noise! ¡°Is.. is mommy not mad anymore..?¡± sniffled the voice.. ¡°N.. no. M.. mo..¡± I quickly glanced at the others in the room, promising swift retribution should they even think of making a joke out of this. ¡°Mommy is not mad.¡± I laid a hand on the book and patted it awkwardly. It felt wet and mushy to the touch. Ugh. ¡°Sniffle.. promise?¡± ¡°Yes, promise.¡± I grated out. ¡°Even if Shia ate mommy¡¯s favorite book?¡± ¡°You.. what?! No, no, wait. I.. I am not mad. I¡¯m not mad. Not at all,¡± I repeated, more to myself than for anyone else¡¯s benefit, focusing on my breathing. After a moment or two, I calmed down and no longer felt a homicidal impulse to start tearing apart the damn book from cover to cover. ¡°Now, tell me. Why did you.. eat.. my book?¡± I managed not to choke on the words. Barely. ¡°Because.. Shia was so hungry. Mommy didn¡¯t feed me for days!¡± There was accusation in that tone. ¡°I¡¯m supposed to feed you? You don¡¯t even have a mouth!¡± ¡°Mommy¡¯s mean again.. uw..¡± Shia took a deep breath. Wait, could a book even take a breath? Well, if it could talk, then plausibly it could breathe. Although what the implications were.. Ah, there were more urgent matters to attend to for now. ¡°Wait! Hold up, I didn¡¯t mean it. Don¡¯t cry! What I wanted to say was, you.. I didn¡¯t know you needed food.¡± ¡°Of course Shia needs food. Shia¡¯s still growing!¡± I slapped a hand to my face and massaged my temples. What in the world was this? A talking book? What was I going to do with a baby book? ¡°Incredible. It seems you are in possession of the rarest artifacts of all. A fully sentient artifact!¡± came Zephyr¡¯s comment, awe in his voice. Wait, that was true. By all evidence, Shia seemed to be a fully sentient being. A sentient item was the rarest and most powerful artifacts one could find in a fantasy setting. I slowly opened my eyes and gazed at the book, running down all the ramifications of this singular fact at the speed of lightening. ¡°Umm.. mommy¡¯s looking at Shia with scary eyes..¡± came the voice from the book, hesitation in its tone. ¡°Ah, Lord Seth. You.. are you alright?¡± I turned my eyes to Zephyr, and even he flinched away. ¡°Well, of course! Everything is wonderful!¡± I cried, genuine glee lifting my voice higher than I¡¯d anticipated. ¡°.. Mister can be really scary when it comes to pricey things..¡± whispered Sol to no one, not quite low enough. ¡°.. whimper..¡± came Reaver¡¯s reply, his tail tucked between his legs. I clapped my hands together. ¡°Come now, we¡¯re almost a family here. Now, Shia, my beloved daughter, tell me a little more about yourself.¡± ¡°Umm.. Shia likes books. Scrolls are good too! Maps are okay, but sometimes they¡¯re covered in grime and dust. Eww..¡± ¡°Ah, no. I meant, what can you do. What sort of powers do you possess?¡± ¡°Shia.. can talk. Shia can also listen! Shia has good memory too. Shia can eat lots of books. Like, a whole library full of books. 10 libraries. Books about history. Yummmm. About magic. They give me a fuzzy feeling in my stomach.¡± I didn¡¯t point out that Shia didn¡¯t have a stomach, not really. I listened patiently, however. ¡°.. Books about numbers sometimes give me a headache, but they¡¯re delicious! Then there¡¯s books about animals and plants and rocks. They all taste wonderful and give me a tingly feeling in the arms..¡± ¡°Ah,¡± I interrupted gently. ¡°Besides eating precious tomes of knowledge and wisdom.. what else can you do?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Umm.. Shia doesn¡¯t know,¡± came the hesitant reply from Shia. I had expected as much by this point. Of course, I get one incredibly rare sentient artifact, and it¡¯s the one with the retarded mind of a 6 year old. I tried not to sigh too deeply, lest it start to cry again. ¡°That¡¯s alright Shia. We¡¯ll figure it out slowly,¡± murmured Zephyr consolingly. He was good at this. Me? I¡¯ve killed far more people with my bare hands than I can remember children¡¯s faces. For some reason they just annoy the living crap out of me. They¡¯re utterly selfish, self-serving and shameless attention whores. You had to look after them, feed them, clothe them, then watch them grow up to become ungrateful little bastards like I¡¯d turned out. Poor gramps. He deserved so much better than what he got. He got me. I shook my head free of those dark thoughts, and nodded to Shia. ¡°Alright Shia, for now, you¡¯re not allowed to eat anything without my permission. Understood?¡± ¡°Okay! Shia is a good girl. She¡¯ll obey mommy!¡± came the instant reply. ¡°Shia.. don¡¯t call me mommy. I¡¯m Seth,¡± I instructed. ¡°Shia likes mommy better!¡± came the cheerful voice. ¡°No, Seth.¡± I grated out. ¡°Uwa.. is mommy.. mad?¡± murmured the book, tears in her voice. ¡°No, no! I¡¯m not.. agh, mommy is not angry. Alright?¡± ¡°Phew, good. Shia doesn¡¯t like mommy when mommy''s mad.¡± I sighed heavily, then glared daggers around the room as I heard something dangerously close to laughter echoing from the walls. That only made it worse. ¡°Shia is.. yawn.. full for now. Shia is.. ahhhh.. sleepy..¡± Soon enough, the soft sounds of a child¡¯s gentle snoring could be heard. ¡°The artifact seems to have been under considerable stress, Lord Seth. It seems to have stabilized for now. I would advise you to employ the utmost of caution when dealing with sentient artifacts. Though their might and value is indisputable, they can also summon the most dire and unpredictable of circumstances. Rarely does power come without a price, Lord Seth. Please heed my warning.¡± Slowly, I nodded to Zephyr. ¡°For now, let¡¯s just try to keep Shia from eating more priceless books and wailing the roof down around our ears.¡± ¡°As you say, Lord Seth,¡± Zephyr agreed easily. I turned around to face the still-snickering Sol and Reaver - though how a dog can snicker is beyond me. Damn magical beasts. Bah! ¡°Alright, show¡¯s over for you two. Go back to sleep. We leave before dawn tomorrow.¡± Sol¡¯s face lit up with excitement, ¡°So where are we going?¡± I grinned with the first genuinely happy thought of the whole night. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll love it.. I know I will,¡± I replied, veritably shaking from the anticipation. I hated children, and here I was saddled with three of them. One was covered in fur and drool, and another was a glutton for priceless treasures of knowledge and wisdom. The only slightly normal one was a mystery child who had bought me a duel to the death with one of the deadliest hunters in the land - all in the first day I¡¯d been in Aeterna. ¡°Hell. We¡¯re going straight to hell," I finished, unable to keep down the grin that split my face from ear to ear. Fufufu, I was going to enjoy this. Ah, I''m a sick bastard sometimes. So sue me. Interlude I - Her Interlude I - Her A dazzling array of lights and colors shimmered against the backdrop of a cool autumn evening sky. Exotic flowers still shivering with morning dew bloomed instantly into sunbursts and supernovas of exquisite visual debauchery; shadows grew into fearsome legends from ages long past, only to be vanquished by heroes of song and myth; the motifs were legion, and it was a drunken revelry to the eyes and ears, carefully contrived to captivate and enslave the senses. Every set of eyes, except for two. The first belonged to a wiry man in his twenties, whose eyes were lost, shipwrecked in the gentle swells of the triple scotch neat he nursed in his hands. His demeanor was unassuming and his physical presence overmodest, yet an air of quiet confidence and deadly earnestness coiled about him like a viper ready to strike. It was no wonder that he drifted about alone in a sea of humanity, drowning on dreams of scotch and visions of another man¡¯s life. The second set of eyes were steel grey, focused and intent upon their prey. It was a slow seduction, a dance to be sung for the ages. It started with a single step into his personal space. A subtle calling card, a statement of intent. As all such timeless gestures must be met if they are to be properly savored, it called for the attentions of time - a premeditated affair - just to let it settle. As the weight of it slowly drifted over his shoulders, it was not the wintry breeze of a stranger¡¯s breath but the warm caress of a lover¡¯s embrace. Love does not impose itself on another. Rather, it bides its time. Patient and abiding like the skies and the mountains, like the stars and the ocean until the day when both meet in a perfect timeless kiss, the sanctity of the occasion and the precious rarity of the moment was enough to give both a pause. They savored the moment, extracted of each second its essence as though to lock it away from the predations of time and circumstance, the sworn enemies of all star-crossed lovers. And so, for the next few moments, there dwelt a deep, peaceful silence between the man and the woman. It was a spell woven with strands so translucent, so gossamer, that the merest of breaths would have been enough to shatter it. Yet it stood, firm as a deeply rooted tree reaching down, down to the very core and further still, to find that which had secretly been its most dearly coveted desire. Time was of no object, and its streams pooled into an ocean, countless ripples echoing the cadence of their hearts as they beat as one, twined and interlocked, suspended in the absolute void between one man¡¯s destiny and a woman¡¯s fate. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. And then it was done. Having served its purpose, it vanished on the wings of a whispered prayer and yearnings buried deep. However, it was done and it had been enough. For a prelude, it would do. The man found it necessary to expel wind from his lungs, and form words with his tongue. It all seemed too contrived. He shook his head slowly, then looked in askance to the woman. ¡°Sophia,¡± she whispered. Her lips formed the word yet it was his heart that seized and shook in sweet agony; excruciating bliss. *Sophia. Ah, Sophia..* If her name was the poison, he¡¯d gladly drink to the very last drop, if only so that he may taste it for one last time. Her voice was that of a stranger, but in those eyes he knew her. But his own had forgotten the words they¡¯d so loudly sung in silent tribute mere moments past. And so, churlish and mundane as he felt, he had no choice but to address the voice in order to unveil the mistress behind those twin swirls of mercurial flame. ¡°I am. My name. That is, I..¡± the man trailed off. His words were measured and slow, his voice deep and steady, his mind cool and composed. However, there seemed to be no method to bridge the gap between his will and these utterly graceless words which would irrevocably mar this perfect moment. The woman tilted her head to one side, a minute gesture that encompassed a statement, a question and their mutual resolution. Then her right hand rose from her side and came to rest upon the man¡¯s cheek. It was a deeply intimate gesture, disdaining all ceremony for the immediate, filled to the brim of the here and now. ¡°I am..¡± It was liquid ecstasy, vitriol that burned. Burned brightly, burned fiercely, until there was nothing but ashes. Isn¡¯t that how all love stories end? Ashes and the fading whispers of a broken promise. *My.. Sophia..* Chapter 13 - The Awakening Chapter 13 - Awakening With a start, I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the darkness gathered under the roof above. My breathing came in ragged gasps, and my pulse was firing all cylinders in rapid succession as clammy hands clenched a sweat-soaked blanket to my chest. ¡°So, even here you haunt me,¡± I whispered to no one. That wasn¡¯t fair. Perhaps it was me haunting the memory of her. If even that were taken from me, I would be left an empty shell, with not one redeeming quality under a mountain of gangrenous sores. No, the question wasn¡¯t the why, or even the how. It was the why now? Throughout my life¡¯s labyrinthine twists and turns, her memory had always been a mere glance away. It had become the only constant in a man who was changing by the hour. By the minute. A man who no longer recognized himself. Life had been so simple, so bloody easy back then. It was always about moving up, moving forward. If there¡¯s a wall, smash it. If there¡¯s a mountain, climb it. My philosophy had been all about the shortest route from point A to point B, and consequences be damned. Then Sophia had entered the picture, and she had changed everything. Everything. A true game changer. *Sophia..* Gritting my teeth, I slammed my fist as hard as I could into the wall next to my head. A dull CRACK issued from the impact but was instantly swallowed by the night. Lightning jabs of pain started to burn trails of agony in my arm. Damn, and I had just healed that arm, too. That had done it, though. Oh, if I turned my head slightly, I could still see her silhouette, just beyond the edge of the shadows around the room. If I closed my eyes for a moment, I could hear the siren song of her voice whispering to me, attempting, as she always had, to redeem my soul. The problem is I probably never had one to begin with. ¡°Enough of that,¡± I told myself, and for once, I seemed to be in the mood to listen. Maybe miracles do happen. I quietly rose from the pallet where I had been sleeping, and made my way to the door while dodging the various trip hazards in the room by sound alone. These kids could really snore. ¡°I can understand the kid, but whoever heard of a friggin mutt snoring?¡± I was sorely tempted to test my reflexes via a well-placed boot-heel in the mutt¡¯s rear end, but decided discretion was the better part of valor. It wouldn¡¯t do for the instructor to start out our conditioning boot camp with a maimed hand AND mangled foot. Worse, they would both pretty much fall into the category of self-inflicted mutilation. Damn mutt¡¯s got some real nasty bedside manners and chompers that would put a bear trap to shame. Stepping outside, I could see it was still dark. Judging by the depth of the gloom and the silence floating in the still air, it was still a few hours short of dawn. After that kind of dream, I knew there was no hope of getting any more rest tonight. Instead, I dutifully applied some of that godawful paste over my newly injured arm. Thankfully, it looked like I had only split my knuckles and bruised the bone. With any luck, most of the damage should be healed by the end of the day. After putting away the stink kit - the name had stuck - I started a light warm-up routine I¡¯d developed to condition my body. The program involved an increasingly challenging series of punches, elbows, knees and kicks that should eventually have me doing double spinning kicks in no time. *Bleep*
    Alert! You are completely exhausted and unable to move!
    Your stamina has reached 0 and you will not be able to take any actions until it recovers
    Current Stamina:0 / 7
    Of course, I didn¡¯t even finish one tenth of the program before my trembling legs could no longer support my body and I collapsed to the ground in a heap. This was nothing unexpected. I had hoped to complete at last 25% of the program, but the training regime had been designed so that it would easily scale down to accommodate my lack of physical conditioning. Clenching my fists, I willed the weakness away from my body. I would pound my flesh and crush my bones until I scoured away every last vestige of this pathetic shell. Selendra, the Keeper of the Gates herself had certified that I had a goddamn bulletproof soul, and if I had to flay away every layer of weakness, inch by bloody inch, by the gods I would do it as fast as humanly possible. Right, first act, reforge a soul from scratch. As for my second act, how tough could reforging a body be? Grinning wolfishly, I dusted myself and got back up. It was an expression only those who knew me well would recognize. They would know to quickly vacate the immediate area and seek shelter. Reforging of Seth.. 0.1% complete. The old Seth was dead. Hail the new Seth. ¡°Is mommy alright?¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.Startled, I almost jumped off my skin. No one had been able to sneak up on me for a very, very long time. That sort of carelessness could and would lead to an early grave in my line of work. Of course, I shouldn¡¯t have expected this body of mine to be equipped with the finely attuned senses that had taken years and years of careful conditioning to develop. That doesn¡¯t mean it did not piss me off to feel like a drunken cat, blind, deaf and helpless. ¡°The boo.. erm, Shia?¡± I ventured, squinting towards the gloom of the shack. It had a couple windows that were too small to allow a person to climb through, but it would be a different story for a book. Not that any sane architect would stop to consider whether a window should be able to deter sentient artifacts in the shape of a book from slipping through. ¡°Yup, Shia¡¯s here!¡± came the answer, cheerful as morning dew. ¡°Shia, how did you get there? I left you inside a strongbox.¡± ¡°Shia didn¡¯t like the box. It was dark and smelly. Shia wants to stay by mommy,¡± came the somewhat reproachful reply. ¡°No, I meant how you managed to escape from a locked chest?¡± ¡°Shia didn¡¯t like the box,¡± came the identical reply, as though it were stating the obvious. This wasn¡¯t helping. ¡°Shia wants to help mommy.¡± ¡°Huh? Help me? That¡¯s.. nice. Look, I appreciate it but unless you can turn yourself into a..¡± I¡¯d been about to say priceless artifact of unparalleled power, then almost smacked myself in the face. Enter exhibit one, the talking, moving, obviously Magic with capital M artifact. I quickly recovered. ¡°How can you help me, Shia? Have you recalled any other abilities or powers you possess?¡± ¡°No silly, Shia doesn¡¯t do powers. Shia is Shia,¡± came the burbling reply, as though that had been obvious too. ¡°So, how can you help me?¡± I muttered darkly. I can only take being patronized by a magical artifact with the mind of a six year old for so long. ¡°Well.. you could, umm, you know. Read me?¡± came the somewhat bashful suggestion. I scratched my head, baffled. ¡°I recall your pages being blank the last time I looked.¡± ¡°Shia was hungry then. Shia ate something that tasted weird and had a funny smell,¡± came the somewhat frustrated reply. Alright, so maybe I wasn¡¯t the only one losing patience. Brushing the dust off my hands I eagerly approached the book, which lay there waiting patiently, perched against the windowsill. I paused with my hands hovering over the book. I felt strangely hesitant to pick it up again. Back then, it had just been a book. Paper and ink detailing some precious tidbit of knowledge and wisdom. This was different. It was magic. It was wild power that I could not even begin to understand. I felt as though I were about to open Pandora¡¯s Box, and about five seconds away from slapping my forehead and going, ¡°DOH!¡± Just then, the choice was taken from my hands. I watched in sick fascination as a single drop of blood from my injured hand slowly rolled off my skin, descended through the air, and finally fell on the book. *SPLAT* Arcs of lightning burst from the book and streaked into my hand. At the same time, a glowing halo seemed to pulse from the book, gradually expanding until it grew too bright to look at. Low, rumbling thunder could be heard through the din of the magical energies being unleashed around me. Though my self-preservation instinct was screaming to take my hand away, I gritted my teeth and reached down to clamp my palm firmly over the book. At this, a jolt of power shot up through my arm and agony surged in a tidal wave that swept up all conscious thought and dashed it against the walls of my skull. A wordless snarl escaped my lips and adrenaline spiked my vision, clouding it in a red haze. Peering through the fog, I stared in fascination as the light from the book coalesced in the air in front of me to form the vague outline of a woman¡¯s face. It would have been one of the most terrifying or exhilarating experiences of my life, except it was neither. Instead, for the first time in more years than bear reckoning, I felt at peace. See, the woman, she was smiling; and I knew her name. Then with a roaring crash that left my ears ringing, the symphony of the powers unleashed finally reached a crescendo and exploded into a myriad shards that rained in flaming debris all around me as I lay there on my knees, gasping for breath, staring at the book on the ground in front of me. Whatever had happened, it was done. *Bleep*
    You have been soulbound by a mysterious power!
    All your Soul Points have been consumed!
    Current SP:0 / 5
    Summoning one last reserve of willpower, I slowly reached up with a trembling hand and just barely managed to lay it on my forehead. ¡°Doh.¡± Then I passed out. Authors Notes: Laptop ran out of juice so I had to post on my phone. In other words, please forgive editing errors. Will fix later. Chapter 14 - Devourer of Souls Chapter 14 - Devourer of Souls ¡°.. Must evacuate the area immediately. Operation Swift Retribution is a go. Repeat, Nuclear Strike codes are hot and operation Swift Retribution is green, all assets to clear the area imm..¡± the voice cut off in a shrill whine as my fist collided against the smooth holographic display glass, sending cracks spider-webbing in all directions and setting off tiny sparks fizzling all over its surface. ¡°Belay that order,¡± I grated out, shoving away the technical support staff member who had been unbuckling my armored exoskeleton. ¡°Pull back all ground teams. I will need immediate air support for extraction in point Zeta-Nu-Alpha at preset coordinates.¡± ¡°Sir, we have strict orders to evacuate the area immed..¡± The young captain¡¯s words died in his mouth as he shrunk back and wilted under the full weight of my gaze. ¡°Ah.. I.. Yes, sir!¡± I snatched a slim pen-sized device made of silvery metal with five dials running down its length from its delicate cradle. The numbers on the dials had lit up not 15 seconds ago. ¡°S.. Sir! That¡¯s the detona..¡± gasped the same captain, goggling at me as I coldly flicked the instrument of mass death and destruction into my pocket. ¡°Stand down, Captain,¡± I ordered in a flat, crisp monotone, my eyes blazing with molten steel. ¡°B.. but..¡± the man stuttered, but couldn¡¯t hold my gaze any longer. ¡°Y.. yes Sir!¡± exhaled the man, collapsing in a defeated heap. Without further ado, I turned on my heels and stalked down the aisle. Ignoring the sudden silence that filled the cabin as a dozen soldiers manning sleek holographic control consoles turned around to stare anywhere but directly at me, I made my way past the corridor and down the exit ramp of the vertical propulsion aircraft, also known as Ravens for their sleek, midnight black profile. ¡°.. got a deathwish..¡± ¡°.. rather risk a nuclear strike than defy a direct order..¡± ¡°.. not from Him..¡± Without bothering to look down, I quickly dialed in a code in the holographic display running down my forearm. A series of warning bleeps and sirens echoed from my bioenhanced armored exoskeleton¡¯s sensory feedback system, but that¡¯s what the override codes were for. *BLEEP*
    WARNING
    Central Command has issued an immediate recall of all allied troops in your area of operation. Failure to comply immediately may result in prosecution via military tribunal and summary execution in accord to the Military Rule of Conduct Article VII Numerals 8, 10, 11, 12...
    *BLEEP*
    WARNING!:
    The power level in your energy bank is critically low. Routing algorithms have determined that you will be unable to complete the current mission without urgent...
    *BLEEP*
    WARNING!:
    Your exeskeleton¡¯s ammunition levels are critically low. Please head to the nearest supply cache and resupply with..
    Finally, the warning bells died down and a red window popped up in front of my eyes. *BLEEP*
    OVERRIDE MODE
    This unit is currently operating under OVERRIDE mode, under direct authorization of commanding operational officer Major General Michael Lee, in accordance of..
    He dismissed the window with a flick of his wrist and headed for his personal propulsion hovercycle. It would be a rough 1 hour ride through winding woods and heavy rain, but he would make it just in time. After powering the unit on and checking whether the stealth camouflage system on the vehicle was still operational, he issued a final order to his personal chief of staff before opening up the throttle to full. The hovercycle roared like a hungry beast as it launched into the teeth of the storm ahead. *** ¡°Pasha, don¡¯t make a sound,¡± I whispered, almost into the little girl¡¯s ear. I was so close I could see the dimples in her cheeks as her face stretched in a delighted smile, even through the steady sheets of rain pouring down. ¡°Senor Miguel?¡± she mouthed, searching my expression through the gloom. ¡°Si, how are you? Did anything..¡± I had to leave off the rest as she rushed into my chest and hugged me with all the strength her tiny 11-year old¡¯s arms could muster. ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± she whispered into my ear. ¡°I was scared. I thought something had happened when you suddenly asked me to come here and you didn¡¯t arrive!¡± ¡°I was.. detained. Look, we don¡¯t have time Pasha. I have to get you out of here,¡± I told her, disengaging her embrace and taking hold of her hand. I pulled gently but she suddenly snatched her hand back. ¡°Is.. is something wrong?¡± she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down. ¡°The world is what is wrong,¡± I responded, swiftly scanning the area for movement. The rain made it difficult to see, but at least it would mask the sound of our conversation. ¡°Pasha, we have to go. Now.¡± I made to take hold of her hand once more, but she swiftly stepped back. ¡°Go where?¡± ¡°Somewhere safe. C¡¯mon Pasha,¡± I urged. ¡°This is safe. My home, with my sisters Luna and Lila and Karina. They are planning a surprise party for my birthday. It¡¯s tonight, and I know all about it but I¡¯m going to act sur..¡± ¡°Pasha, not now. We have to move!¡± I cried out in frustration. Pasha paused and looked into my eyes. Clear, grey eyes, just like Hers. That¡¯s what had drawn me to Pasha when I first came to this rebel outpost for recognizance purposes. I¡¯d been able to blend in with the locals and had been quietly working to root out the rebellion¡¯s leaders. A cardinal rule is to never draw any ties between you and your mark. What started as mere curiosity, however, had become more of an obsession as I came to know the free-spirited orphan girl known as Pasha. After that, I had engaged my mission with a vengeance. It was the only way I could save her. I had been so close. Just a few more days, and I would have had them all. String up all their leaders, take their heads back to Central Command. Then I could have prevented the mass slaughter of 9,000 civilians, children and women most of them. They were the final remnants of the few pockets of rebel resistance in the South American protectorates. Damn bureaucratic pigs! Of course, they wanted to set an example, and they¡¯d picked this small town in the heart of the Amazon jungle. It was as though they were saying, no matter how far you run, how deep you hide, we will find you. We will destroy you. Like stamping down on a bug. I tried to hide it, the horror and disgust and despair in my eyes, but her eyes went through me like a bolt of lightning. They were the same clear, piercing grey eyes that I¡¯d never been able to hide anything from. Pasha, sweet, innocent Pasha, gasped in sudden realization and dawning horror. ¡°I.. I must go warn them. I have to tell them..!¡± She turned around to dash away but I took hold of her shoulder and pulled her back to me. ¡°Pasha, it is too late. Just too damn late. The lockout orders at the command bunker will only last until they override them from headquarters. We have an hour, maybe less..¡± Pasha looked up at me in horror. ¡°Who.. who are you?¡± She tried to shove me away with her spindly arms, then started beating on my chest with her tiny hands as tears ran down her cheeks. ¡°You are not Senor Miguel! You lied to me. You liar. Liar!¡± I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath. Her frantic hammering was tearing the bullet holes I¡¯d received in my arm and shoulder open again. However, I didn¡¯t even feel that. It was the accusation in her eyes that stabbed me in the heart far deeper than any of the wounds I¡¯d received on my way in, as I neutralized several patrols and watch posts I didn¡¯t have the luxury to circumvent after I¡¯d abandoned my depleted exoskeleton. ¡°Pasha. I¡¯m sorry,¡± I murmured, desperately trying to make it better. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± I pulled her in closer and hugged her tightly to my chest. After a moment, she stopped struggling and we clung to one another as her cries echoed through the night. Letting out one final, fitful sob, Pasha gently pushed me away and looked up at me with huge, reddened eyes that did not lose any of their focus for all of their grief. No 11 year old¡¯s eyes should ever have to be so knowing. ¡°The town?¡± I shook my head slowly. ¡°Then.. my sisters?¡± I bowed my head down, unable to respond. I couldn¡¯t even look into her eyes. ¡°Is there really no hope?¡± she asked me, her voice finally breaking on the last word. I dug frantically through my brain for a different answer, but there was nothing. Hope had died the moment I had walked into her life. ¡°None.¡± The single word hung in empty space between us, filling the silence that followed as the rain steadily fell around us. Suddenly, I felt Pasha¡¯s hands around my face as she drew me down to plant a kiss on my cheek. I looked up in surprise only to find her clear eyes turning to steel. Tears started to pool in them as her lips drew up in a shaky smile that reminded me of Her so vividly that my heart hammered into a dead stop and my chest couldn¡¯t draw a single breath. ¡°Thank you, Senor Miguel,¡± Pasha nodded slowly in my direction, her eyes still holding my gaze. ¡°I know you did everything you could to help us. I know you were trying to save us. For that, I thank you.¡± Why did this feel like farewell? ¡°Pasha..¡± ¡°I can¡¯t, Senor Miguel,¡± She shook her head slowly from side to side, then spread her arms wide as if to encompass the hills, the trees and the lights around us. ¡°This is my whole life, and if I only had 5 more minutes, I would choose to spend them in the home I¡¯ve come to love, with the people who have given me a room in their hearts. You understand, don¡¯t you?¡± I wanted to say no - so desperately that it felt like the word was frantically clawing at my insides to get out. However, I could only nod numbly. I understood. Pasha drew a slow, shuddering breath, then gave me one final, brave little smile that was so beautiful in all its tremulous fragility, it broke my heart. Then she turned around and resolutely ran back into the darkness without so much as a look back over her shoulder, and I couldn¡¯t gather the shattered pieces in time to stop her. Rather, it took all I had not to join her instead. *** 25 minutes later, as the Raven gained altitude rapidly, the glowing numerals in the slim cylindrical device I held in one hand went dead. At the same time, a thousand suns exploded in the far horizon, and though the light was blinding, I simply could not look away. I ignored the frantic gestures of the support tech as he tried to pull me back from the edge of the open ramp, wind howling in my ears as the blast wave headed our way. In my other fist, I held a crumpled piece of paper I¡¯d just now found stuffed in one of my pockets. The words, ¡°Pasha¡¯s Surprise Party Invitation for Dad Senor Miguel¡± had been scribbled on it with several different colors of crayon. At the very bottom, it read, ¡°I made it myself, so sorry if its not very pretty. You have to come! Love, Pasha!¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Goodbye, Pasha,¡± I whispered, then opened my hand and let the breeze carry away the letter. It fluttered wildly in the engine¡¯s wake before slowly spiraling downward. I nodded once, then replaced the detonator into my pocket. We all made our own choices, and unfortunately, some of us had to live with them. ¡°Take us home, Captain,¡± I instructed, and a flurry of motion followed the barked orders from the officers on-board. As the Raven¡¯s rear ramp finally slid shut with a mechanical CLICK, I caught one final glimpse outside and I fancied that I could see Pasha¡¯s brave, tremulous little smile - her last parting gift - stretched out over the endless blue sky. *** ¡°Lord Seth?¡± asked a voice right next to my head as I regained my senses. ¡°Wha..¡± When I opened my eyes, I saw four distinct faces outlined against the hazy sky above. ¡°Zephyr? Sol? Reaver? Pash..¡± My words came to a dead stop as I realized the name I¡¯d been about to utter. I blinked and suddenly there were only three faces smiling down at me. Not four. ¡°Lord Seth, are you well? How do you feel?¡± asked a concerned Zephyr. ¡°Please stay down for a moment longer while I inspect your wounds.¡± ¡°Is mister going to be alright?¡± asked Sol plaintively, and Reaver barked anxiously. ¡°Quiet, quiet all of you!¡± I shouted, and had to stop because the ringing in my ears gave me a blasting headache. ¡°.. still got a bad temper..¡± I heard Sol mumble. ¡°.. Owww..¡± I heard Reaver agree. Damn kids. No matter. What had just happened here? I recalled - the book! ¡°Shia.. where is Shia?¡± I asked, sitting up in a rush. Zephyr laid a restraining hand against my chest but gestured over his shoulder. The book lay there in the middle of a crater on the ground at least 3 feet deep, and at least thrice that in diameter. Scorch marks could be seen everywhere around it, but thankfully the book seemed to be in good condition. ¡°Shia?¡± I called out. There was no response. I flicked an accusing glance towards Zephyr, who promptly held up his hands in front of his chest. ¡°She has been silent and apparently inert for the whole time while we inspected your condition,¡± he explained. ¡°Would you care to illuminate us as to what events came to pass here in our absence?¡± ¡°I was soulbound to some strange power,¡± I answered off-handedly, then winced as Zephyr¡¯s hands tightened involuntarily on my wounded hand. ¡°Did you just mention the word soulbound? As in, the deepest binding of the soul and spirit reserved for the darkest rituals of forbidden magic?¡± Zephyr practically burst out in a rush. In truth, this reaction was so unlike the Zephyr I¡¯d come to know that it was far more of a shock than the pain tingling from my abused hand. Zephyr suddenly lifted my right hand to his eyes and both of us stared, stupefied by what we saw. A complex series of lines and sigils had been tattooed into the back of my hand. The shapes were incredibly fine and complicated, and the closer I looked the more detail I found. On the other hand, the wound I¡¯d inflicted on myself earlier was gone, and the pain I¡¯d felt earlier had been from the branding. ¡°What is this?¡± I murmured, perplexed. ¡°I.. I believe it is a ritual of binding of the 9th circle,¡± Zephyr cried, disbelief in his voice. ¡°I¡¯ve never even seen a drawing of one such, not in all the time I spent studying in the Librarium Arcana. However, this is far too complex to belong to any of the lower circles.¡± ¡°The lines here and here,¡± Zephyr went on as he traced them without quite coming into contact. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen such mastery of the major sigils. Though I cannot know their purpose, surely they must be the legendary lost sigils of eternal binding. Why, I know many scholars who would gladly give up their entire fortunes for an opportunity to learn the secrets of the lost sigils.¡± ¡°Earth calling to Zephyr. Come in, Zephyr,¡± I muttered. ¡°Earth? Erm, no matter. I apologize, Lord Seth. It seems you have undergone a dark ritual of forbidden magic no one has seen for the past millennia,¡± Zephyr explained off-handedly, still caught up in the study of my new tattoo. ¡°Dark ritual? Forbidden magic? That¡¯s rather vague,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Much has been obscured by the passing of the ages, Lord Seth,¡± Zephyr replied. ¡°One thousand years is a very long time for your.. ah, for humanity in general.¡± I caught his slight misstep but chose to ignore it for the time being. We would revisit that later. ¡°So, I¡¯m assuming you can¡¯t tell what it does?¡± Zephyr shook his head in the negative. ¡°Well, you can start by telling me what a binding ritual is. Might as well tell me everything you know about soul binding, while you¡¯re at it,¡± I called over my shoulder as I stepped past him to examine the apparently inert Shia. ¡°But first lets see what¡¯s wrong with her.¡± After gingerly lifting it off the ground, I could see it was still in perfect shape. However, the gold letters on the cover had turned a startling shade of silver now. If one looked closely enough, a slight swirling effect could be found within each character. ¡°Shia?¡± I called out. ¡°Are you there?¡± The book did not answer. Zephyr looked on impassively, but he started to fiddle with the hem of his robe as he usually did when he became nervous. Sol and Reaver say huddled to one side, barely daring to breathe. Had whatever magic event had taken place burned Shia out? Was it too much energy for the young artifact to handle? Or had the ritual been carried out in a catastrophically wrong way? ¡°.. ry..¡± came the whisper, barely audible, from the book. ¡°Shia?¡± I quickly called out. ¡°.. gry..¡± came the voice again. I leaned my head in closer, practically laying the book along my ear. Then a moment later I had to struggle mightily in order not to throw the damn book down and start stamping on it like a madman. It must have shown in my face, for Zephyr visibly flinched when I turned my scowling gaze on him. ¡°Ah, Lord Seth? Is something..¡± ¡°Zephyr, go to the bazaar and buy me the cheapest books you can find,¡± I muttered testily. ¡°.. no.. moldy.. books.. yummy.. pretty.. please..¡± came Shia¡¯s voice, much more emphatic now. ¡°Cheapest pile of rags you can buy,¡± I reiterated, then held out a hand to stop Zephyr. What had I been thinking? Sending Zephyr to buy something cheaply? I motioned Zephyr to stay, then turned to Sol and Reaver instead. ¡°You two, I have a special mission for you.¡± Their faces lit up. ¡°Sure, we¡¯ll buy it and be back before you..¡± I shook my head firmly, ¡°You will do no such thing.¡± Their heads hung limply in disappointment, ¡°Instead, you will look in the marketplace for a kid named Kyren.¡± Sol¡¯s head came up and scowled furiously at me. Reaver¡¯s expression, however, did a complete 360 and he started to wag his tail frantically to and fro. ¡°I see you know him. No, not one word out of you. I don¡¯t care what you have against him. He works for me now, and so do you. Go find him and tell him to buy me a handful of the cheapest books he can find.¡± Another low moan came from the book I held in my hands, but I pointedly chose to ignore it. After Sol dragged his feet out with a much more cheery looking Reaver practically bouncing behind him, I looked down with as fierce a scowl as I could manage at the book. ¡°Shia, we were worried about you.¡± ¡°Shia.. so hungry.. mommy¡¯s fault..¡± came the accusing voice. ¡°Do you know what happened?¡± I asked. ¡°Nope, but it hurt.. then Shia felt so tired and hungry,¡± whined Shia. ¡°The soulbinding. Shia must have been the focus,¡± murmured Zephyr. ¡°But if that is so.. then who is the contractor?¡± ¡°Wait, soulbinding? Contractor?¡± I asked in a flat tone. ¡°Allow me to enlighten you, Lord Seth. We are currently dwelling on the physical realm, the land you know as Aeterna. However, there is a spiritual realm that is closely connected to us by ancient and potent magic. Known as Valora, this is the dwelling place of the beings we worship as Gods. In that realm, instead of a physical body like ours, individuals harness the essence of their beings in vessels known as souls. The evidence of the existence of souls has been object of much debate, but allow me to reassure..¡± I waved off Zephyr¡¯s ¡°reassurances¡±. I knew damn well what having a soul was like. Hell, I¡¯d reforged mine in order to come to Aeterna, though the result of my willful disobedience of the rules had resulted in a ¡°flawed soul.¡± Zephyr looked surprised, but quickly composed himself and continued, ¡°Of course, just as passage into Valora is all but impossible for beings of flesh and blood, entrance from the other side into Aeterna is a rather formidable challenge. Thus, the beings of various strati of power in the Spirit Realm will establish contracts with individuals in our realm. This forms a magical binding which binds the soul of the contractee - the individual whose soul is offered - to that of the contractor, the being who wields it.¡± ¡°So, what does it do?¡± ¡°Besides entrance from one world to the next? Why, whatsoever they please, of course,¡± answered Zephyr matter-of-factly. I tried hard not to gape. Hadn¡¯t he called the other side of my soulbinding the contractor? That meant I was the contractee.. ¡°Wait, what do you mean? Be very specific,¡± I ordered. Zephyr spread his hands as though to say, not my fault. ¡°Lord Seth, any further explanations would be more conjecture and rumour than truth. After all, the last recorded instance of a successful soulbinding took place more than a thousand years ago. Why, we stand at the very place where it took place.¡± I looked up sharply at that. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me the contractor was..¡± ¡°Indeed. The only man to have united all the Ae¡¯Sur clans under one ruthless fist, the conqueror of the largest landmass empire ever known to the world - the Great Khan himself, Jar¡¯we the Deathwalker. There is some symmetry to this, as his title is generally rendered as the Deathwalker, but in the more ancient languages, its roots can be traced to a title meaning, ¡®Devourer of Souls.¡¯¡± That did not have a nice ring to it at all. Devourer of Souls? Hell if I let some damn stuck-up god slurp up my soul as a one-way ticket to Aeterna, the funnest amusement park for bored, egomaniacal deities. ¡°Shia won¡¯t.. let mommy.. be food..¡± came the fervent voice. ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯m not becoming soul food for anyone, deities or not.¡± Zephyr nodded his agreement. ¡°It would appear we need to find more information.¡± ¡°Right. That means digging up the..¡± We finished at the same time: ¡°Imperial Library of Korendur.¡± Zephyr looked startled, but subsided after I shrugged carelessly at him. Hey, we all have our little secrets, don¡¯t we.. not quite human priest-turned-merchant? Zephyr looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny, and shuffled his feet while clutching both arms to his chest. ¡°Something tells me you didn¡¯t come all the way to the Arioch Wastelands simply to sell ruined cloth turned into bandages,¡± I ventured off-handedly. Zephyr flinched and started to speak, but I held up a hand. ¡°No matter. Perhaps the time will come when we will share our secrets. Until then, I will respect your privacy.¡± Zephyr nodded gratefully. Just then, a groaning sound came from the book. ¡°Shia.. hungry..¡± It had just eaten my soul, apparently, and yet it still wanted more. ¡°Wait a while longer, you little glutton,¡± I murmured. It came out a lot lighter than I¡¯d expected. Indeed, far from feeling pessimistic and weighed down, I was rather satisfied with this turn of events. I¡¯d started to worry I¡¯d be stuck babysitting a pair of kids and a clueless merchant for the rest of my natural life. This had just kicked a whole lot of fuel into the fire. If I was going to get burned, I¡¯d take the whole world with me. In fact, that¡¯s what I¡¯d prefer. Burn baby, burn. Chapter 15 - Devourer of Souls Part II Chapter 15 - Devourer of Souls Part II Author''s notes: I ask your kind forgiveness. I posted an earlier version but omitted an important plot point. I had no choice but to take it down. I apologize if you''ve read the previous version. I hope you enjoy this one even better! ¡°Mommy.. hungry..¡± I swallowed a groan and instead let out a sigh as I resigned myself to Shia¡¯s constant whining. I could understand that it was only a child, so I couldn¡¯t really get mad at it. Still, it was driving me crazy. Did I mention I am not good with kids? As in, I¡¯d rather be strung up against a wall facing five overzealous torturers than have to spend a lazy afternoon looking after some slimy, noisy, nosy little kid. ¡°Mommy..¡± If only there was a book that I could feed to Shia without compromising another priceless pearl of knowledge or wisdom. Something utterly useless despite the fact that someone had taken the time and care to leave a meticulous written record of it. ¡°There there Shia, you shall have an overabundance of delightful written manuscripts and journals for you to sate your appetite on. Just bear with it for a while longer,¡± Zephyr murmured consolingly. And just like that, I had it. Rid the world of an artifact of incomparable evil, and feed the needy children of the world. That¡¯s what I call efficiency. ¡°Zephyr, might I have a word?¡± ¡°Of course, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to compare some of the figures from your sales last year in the region of Iria. There are some concerns I¡¯d like to address,¡± I continued jovially, patting Zephyr on the shoulder. The priest-turned-merchant¡¯s expression immediately brightened. ¡°Why, it would be my pleasure, Lord Seth. I am particularly proud of the many hapless souls I was able to succor in Iria. Why, if you will look at this tally column here, you can clearly distinguish the sore need for..¡± Not one to let easy prey slip away, I pounced on the ledger book Zephyr held out and snatched it from his hands. ¡°Why, this is indeed very interesting..¡± I murmured while pacing towards Shia. Just a few more steps.. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m glad you are in agreement with me, Lord Seth. Indeed, I had begun to doubt whether I would be able to aid those poor souls in need of..¡± I held up a hand and feigned surprise. ¡°Oh, but there is another need which we have neglected thus far. Poor Shia has taken ill and needs immediate sustenance.¡± The color drained from Zephyr¡¯s face as he realized the situation. ¡°Eh, but there is already..¡± ¡°You would not suggest that we simply watch on as this poor, helpless child suffers while we hold the remedy in our hands?¡± I asked, raising my voice to convey shock and disappointment. ¡°Ah, of course not. That will not do. Why, the Lady Arabelle, whose mercies are many, commands us not to withhold what is good from others, should it be within our power to do so,¡± murmured Zephyr, sighing deeply. ¡°Really? Are you sure?¡± I was doing my best not to gloat. ¡°Yes, Lord Seth. I realize you¡¯ve put me in this position on purpose. Still, I should thank you, for I may have been temporarily blinded by my own selfishness. I should have offered my book of records of my own accord,¡± confessed Zephyr, his eyes bright with seraphic light. ¡°Hah? You should?¡± I repeated, dumbfounded. Zephyr resolutely nodded to me, so I shrugged and offered the abominable ledger book to Shia. ¡°Yay, a book! Thank you momm.. EWWW!¡± I almost dropped the ledger book in surprise. ¡°What is it? What?¡± ¡°Mommy, that¡¯s so gross..¡± I must admit I finally felt vindicated. At long last, someone else openly admitted that I had not been exaggerating at all about Zephyr¡¯s book of mercantile sins. It really was pretty terrible. Still, if I didn¡¯t take this opportunity to rid the world of this artifact of evil.. ¡°Now now Shia, be a good girl and eat what mommy gives you,¡± I cooed gently. ¡°No! Never!¡± came the vehement reply. ¡°Mommy hates Shia!¡± ¡°Come now, it can¡¯t be that bad. This is a labor of love, my child,¡± I murmured while placing the ledger book on top of Shia. ¡°Agh, noooo.. must.. get.. away..¡± came Shia¡¯s frantic voice. ¡°No.. too weak.. can¡¯t run.. so disgusting.. eww.. nooooooo!¡± It was the first time I¡¯d actually seen Shia eat a book. She didn¡¯t have a mouth, of course, but it was almost as though the ledger book were slowly sinking into Shia¡¯s cover. It wasn¡¯t a smooth process by any means. In fact, Shia actually tried to spit it back out several times. Still, I dutifully held the ledger book against Shia until it was all gone. After the deed was completed, Shia¡¯s color slowly turned a sickly green, and the smiley on the cover conveyed the fact that despite being an artifact of untold magic power, Shia could indeed feel very sick. Even the lines were squiggly and smudgy. DX ¡°Aw Shia, it was all for you. You¡¯ll thank me when you get all grown up,¡± I said soothingly, beginning to feel just a little guilty. Gagging noises were all the response I got. Zephyr stood to one side with his brow furrowed in concentration. Perhaps he was finally realizing the depth and breadth of his sins. Repent, ye sinner! ¡°Mommy hates.. argh.. Shia..¡± came the tremulous voice from the book. Alright, I may be a mean bastard at times, but that doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m completely heartless. Case in point, I began to feel pretty terrible about forcing the ledger book on Shia. I mean, I¡¯d thought a book would be a book, and I hadn¡¯t considered that it would be quite so disturbing and traumatizing an experience for the little one. ¡°Mommy wants to kill Shia..¡± came the mournful cry. Sighing deeply, I rummaged around my pack until I found what I was looking for and dug it out, then extended it to Shia. ¡°Here, in this bundle there are several very detailed maps of the town and its surrounding areas that I had considerable difficulty in obtai..¡± *CHOMP* The little brat.. its cover actually opened wide, then jumped up from the ledge I¡¯d laid it on, and closed its pages on the precious maps I¡¯d been saving for our expedition. I barely extracted my hand in time, and stared as the book¡¯s cover rippled and swayed while loud chewing sounds could be heard. ¡°Mmmm! Yummy! Thanks mommy!¡± came Shia¡¯s cheerful voice, dapper as ever. I scowled at the book and focused on several very dark thoughts, but Zephyr slapped me on the shoulder as he chuckled genially. ¡°Why, Lord Seth, I do believe I begin to see a distinct resemblance..¡± Zephyr quipped. ¡°Don¡¯t even go there,¡± I warned. Zephyr just laughed and held up his hands in front of his chest. ¡°Just thought you might wish to reconsider the matter of dubious paternity. Or shall we say, maternity?¡± ¡°Ha. Ha. Ha,¡± I intoned in a flat monotone. ¡°Goes to teach me..¡± I left the rest unsaid as a child dashed around the corner and almost bowled me over. ¡°Whoa, hold up there,¡± I cried, while holding the kid at arm¡¯s length. It was Kyren! He was covered in sweat and could barely get a word out while he struggled to catch his breath. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Reaver.. Sol.. Market..¡± the boy panted. ¡°Tarik!¡± I finished, and cursed loudly. Of course, what had I been thinking. I should have known better than to send Sol and Reaver by themselves. Tarik had probably posted men at the market to watch for them. Buckling on my sword and dagger, I nodded to the youth. ¡°Where and how many are they?¡± ¡°By the Weaver¡¯s Well.. Reaver trapped in net, Sol caught.. three men, but more on the way..¡± So, they¡¯d finally wised up and decided to arm themselves properly. Of all the times for them to start using their brains, this was the worst. I nodded to Kyren and patted his shoulder. ¡°I know you¡¯re tired, but I need you to guide me to the closest location where we can intercept them. They will be heading back to Tarik¡¯s place.¡± The boy nodded but was still struggling to breathe. ¡°Zephyr, we might need the authorities to get involved in this. It¡¯s a little early, but I can call in a favor from Watcher Vyse. Get some guards, go to Tarik¡¯s and make your way to the Well so we can cover all bases,¡± I asked my partner. ¡°Of course, Lord Seth,¡± Zephyr nodded. ¡°I will bring them to the Weaver¡¯s Well with all due haste.¡± ¡°Mommy, the closest vector to intercept the baddies will be at the intersection of Artisan¡¯s Way and Tumbler Alley in approximately eleven and a half minutes, with a 45 second margin of error.¡± We all stopped on our tracks and stared at Shia. ¡°What? How did you get that?¡± I asked, unable to quite believe my ears. ¡°Shia can calculate the rough towing speed of three adult men under a combined load of 312 pounds based on uncle Zephyr notes on his.. bleh, thing. Using the city map Shia put together while moving with mommy and integrating it with the yummy map mommy fed Shia, Shia can extrapolate their approximate position if they move in a straight line to the bad man¡¯s house.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± was the only possible answer I could find in that situation. ¡°Shia told mommy Shia was smart!¡± came the bright reply, full of pride. ¡°Well, no kidding,¡± I agreed. ¡°Hell of a lot smarter than your old man. Alright Shia, can you guide me to that interception point?¡± ¡°Yay! Of course! Shia will help mommy punish the baddies!¡± chirped the excited book-turned-supercomputer as I gingerly picked her up and tried to accommodate her bulk in a one-handed grip. That is, until the book shrank in size until it fit comfortably within the palm of my hand. The smiley on Shia¡¯s cover was just the cherry on top of the cake. ; ] The cheeky kid, hahah. ¡°This is beyond all expectations, Lord Seth,¡± mumbled Zephyr, with a dazed look in his eyes. ¡°Hey, save the kids first, gawk in wonder later,¡± I pressed. ¡°Ah, yes. Of course, Lord Seth. Then where shall I..?¡± Zephyr trailed off. ¡°Shia?¡± ¡°The nearest guard post is located at the Well of Haman, near the basket weavers. It will take uncle Zephyr 8 minutes to reach with his running speed and an additional 10 minutes to reach the interception point,¡± came Shia¡¯s automatic reply. ¡°Well done, Shia,¡± I congratulated my daughter. ¡°Yay, is mommy proud?¡± ¡°Hell yes I¡¯m proud,¡± I answered enthusiastically, then chuckled ruefully as Shia¡¯s cover turned a deep pink shade. I could really get used to having her around. "How about.. me?" Panted Kyren. I looked at his shaking legs, and shook my head. "You''d be more of a liability the way you are now. You''ll be the backup plan. Gather some of your gang and follow as soon as you can." "No, I can do it!" Kyren cried out, and tried to stand, but the adrenaline had worn off and his trembling legs wouldn''t hold him up. "You did good kid, now let me show you how it''s done." Kyren uttered some expletives I didn''t even know they had here in Aeterna, much less the kind a kid should be using, but he nodded. "Please, you must save Sol!" Kyren cried out to me, and the vehemence in his tone gave me pause. Huh? I thought they had some sort of rivalry there..? No matter. Nodding to all my companions, we quickly set off in our rescue mission. *** ¡°How much.. farther..?¡± I wheezed, wiping more sweat off my brow. ¡°Just three more minutes. You can do it mommy!¡± Shia cheered me on. ¡°Agh, damn useless.. huff.. body..¡± ¡°You should exercise more often, mommy..¡± came Shia¡¯s concerned observation. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear that from you. When¡¯s the last time you had to run?¡± ¡°Shia has mommy for that,¡± came the chipper reply. ¡°Of course,¡± I grumbled, then changed the tack of the conversation. ¡°Any suggestions on how to deal with Tarik¡¯s men?¡± ¡°Sorry mommy, Shia doesn¡¯t know much about fighting. Uncle Zephyr rather abhorred any such inclinations of the baser side of humanity.¡± ¡°Hah. Here¡¯s another question. Why do you talk like Zephyr, on and off?¡± ¡°Shia can use everything she learns,¡± Shia replied, then went on in a more subdued tone. ¡°Does.. mommy not like that?¡± ¡°No, no, I¡¯m happy Shia.. err.. you are learning so quickly. I¡¯m proud of you,¡± I added quickly. ¡°Thank you mommy,¡± Shia murmured, and I didn¡¯t have to look down to see the book was turning pink again. ¡°Shia, can you describe the layout of the place where we will.. Whoa!¡± I cried out as a miniature hologram sprang to life directly in front of me. Suddenly, the alley I had been traversing vanished as it was overlaid with the grainy image of a completely different street. I almost ran into a discarded crate until I realized it wasn¡¯t part of the image being projected by Shia. ¡°You.. you can do that?¡± I stammered. ¡°Mm-hmm,¡± Shia almost purred. ¡°Shia can perfectly recall anything Shia eats, sees or hears.¡± ¡°Amazing,¡± I breathed, and the picture of the alley lost focus for a moment as the edges began to bleed with a pink afterglow. Coughing to mask my laughter, I was slowly able to reconcile the task of running through an unknown alley while taking in the details of a completely different place. ¡°ETA?¡± I asked casually. ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°Estimated..¡± ¡°Time of Arrival,¡± Finished Shia for me. Clever girl. ¡°Two minutes fifteen seconds mommy, though your speed has been drastically declining for the past minute and thirty five seconds. We will fall outside of the error margin at this pace.¡± I cursed loudly as I picked up the pace. What use would I be if I arrived too tired to do anything? For that matter, would I be able to fight them off in my current condition? I¡¯d already made a fool of myself against these men. I would not be able to intimidate them. Nor would I stand a reasonably good chance of defeating them. True, I didn¡¯t need to defeat them. I merely needed to stall for time. However, I was tired of being the mouse, turning tail and running away from the cat. Just because I could use my brain didn''t mean I wouldn''t much rather use my brawn to simply smash things to a pulp from time to time. Or, slice and dice, I noted, stroking the hilt of both my new blades. If only I could fight them one on one, fight on ground of my choosing, on my own terms. Then a thought sprang into my head. ¡°Shia, can you pan up the view so I can see it from above?¡± The angle shifted accordingly. Excellent, this could work. *** ¡°Damn beast is heavy. Why can¡¯t we just kill it here?¡± grumbled one of the men. ¡°Because Tarik said to bring it back alive,¡± muttered the man who was toiling beside him. On their shoulders they bore the ends of a long wooden pole that had been looped through the top of the net. ¡°Something about bait.¡± ¡°We should have just killed that foreigner while we had the chance,¡± complained the third man, who was carrying a neatly trussed up Sol on his shoulder. He also bore Sol¡¯s giant sword, ¡°Malky¡±, strapped across his back. ¡°Just a little further..¡± I whispered, watching their progress as they walked up the deserted alley. It stood to reason that they¡¯d try to avoid crowds, as what they were doing was not only illegal, but very risky in light of what had happened just one day ago. Apparently, Tarik and his men were a lot more foolhardy and temperamental than I¡¯d expected. I tucked away that information to use another day. ¡°How come you get the brat?¡± complained one of the men hauling Reaver. That¡¯s it, just a couple more steps and.. Now, shove! ¡°Because Tarik put me in command, and..¡± The rest of the predictable explanation would never be heard, because a brick half the size of a melon smacked him right on the forehead. I noted some red numbers I hadn¡¯t noticed before pop up on top of his head. *TTIRING*
    Surprise Attack Success!
    Your surprise attack succeeds and deals critical damage!
    Damage Dealt:25
    *TTIRING*
    Status Effect Success!
    You have successfully applied the status effect: KO on your target
    Duration:2 mins
    Accordingly, I saw a red flashing number on top of his head. Holy crap that¡¯s a heavy rock! The poor devil didn¡¯t even make a sound as his eyes rolled up and he crumpled to the ground. Sol tumbled to the ground as well, but at least he was out their immediate of reach for now. ¡°Zehad!¡± cried one of the men, drawing his sword and rushing towards his fallen leader, while the other snarled some rather colorful curses as he scanned the area around him, hand on the hilt of his sword. Thankfully, the leader had been walking behind the other two men, so they had no idea what had just hit him. Which is why I had high hopes for missile number two. I waited until he knelt beside his downed leader, then let go of my other hastily prepared projectile. I wasn¡¯t quite so fortunate this time, as the brick bounced off his shoulder instead of his skull. It still produced a satisfying THUD, accompanied by a scream of pain. *TTIRING*
    Surprise Attack Success!
    Your surprise attack succeeds and deals critical damage!
    Damage Dealt:15
    Third time¡¯s the charm, and since I had run out of things to throw down, I jumped over the railing of the rooftop I was in, half-spinning in the air to slash my dagger across his undefended eyes while he was still clutching at his injured shoulder. Ideally, I would have liked to down at least two of them before engaging them in hand to hand combat. However, after some quick testing I¡¯d discovered that my current body couldn¡¯t aim for crap. I literally couldn¡¯t hit a human head-sized target with a rock while standing ten feet away. That only left dropping a heavy load directly down from a great height, such as a roof. No way to miss there. Only apparently I had still managed to do exactly that. No matter, that had only been the setup for my real attack. Normally, I would have jumped right on top of him and simply driven my dagger down into his spine. A little twist and easy as that, the fight would suddenly be a good old one versus one. However, with this puny body of mine there was simply no way I¡¯d be able to nail the landing. I¡¯d probably end up breaking both legs in exchange of a mildly annoying paper cut. So instead of making a fool out of myself again, I¡¯d extended a rope I¡¯d found on the way so I would swing in a pendulum off the roof, and use that momentum to deliver a slash with the kind of speed and momentum I was no longer able to command by myself. Of course, I didn¡¯t nail the eyes. My hand was simply unable to grip the weapon solidly enough while also swinging from a rope. Also, something was definitely wrong with my aim. In any case, I had also allowed for just such an event. So, instead of slashing his eyes and blinding him, I cut open a decent gash across his forehead and achieved the same end result. *TTIRING*
    Status Effect Success!
    You have successfully applied the status effect: Blind on your target
    Duration:5 secs
    Forehead cuts bleed profusely. So much so, that in no time at all you are unable to see anything through the copious blood entering your eyes. Case in point, Tarik¡¯s thug screamed like a stuck pig and started to swing his sword wildly around. Poor cretin, like I¡¯d be stupid enough to get tangled up in that mess. Instead, I sheathed my dagger and picked up the two bricks I¡¯d used to such good effect. Encore, anyone? I did mention my aim at 10 feet out was atrocious. Not so much at 5 feet. Especially when the alley is narrow enough that there¡¯s basically no room to dodge or miss. So, even though it took me two solid throws with all my strength behind them, I managed to nail the second guard right on his pretty little mug and grunted in satisfaction as I saw the numbers on top of his head. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! -3 -4 *TTIRING*
    Status Effect Success!
    You have successfully applied the status effect: Dazed on your target
    Duration:2 secs
    While he was still dazedly trying to orient himself, I drew my sword and drove it straight into his heart, angled so as to avoid the ribs. I was awarded with a red flash as I scored another critical hit. The poor fellow barely even squeaked as he fell to the ground, blood gurgling between his lips. *TTIRING*
    You have gained 240 xp!
    Woa, nice bonus XP since these guys were supposed to be higher level than me. Hah. Easy pickings when I can fight in ground of my choosing. That left the third thug, who had been frantically trying to get past his blinded partner in order to help. I was ever so grateful I was able to pick the exact place where the alley was narrowest, so as to catch them at a bottleneck. It had been a risky move, since it involved lengthening the pursuit for four minutes, during which Tarik or the guard could arrive. While I could see myself convincing Watcher Vyse that I¡¯d acted on behalf of Sol and in defense of my own life, I could also see Tarik using his influence and friends to free these scum in no time and stir all kinds of trouble with their ¡°testimony¡±. Better that these three specimens of the darker side of this little hellhole never saw the light of day again. ¡°Zephyr¡¯s ETA?¡± I muttered, drawing my dagger in my other hand. ¡°Three minutes, give or take thirty seconds,¡± came Shia¡¯s reply. I nodded, then advanced on the last remaining thug, who paused to take in his unconscious leader with his head caved in, and his other friend, or rather at the pool of blood that had begun to gather under him. Then he stepped back once, twice, while keeping his nervous eyes on me. I couldn¡¯t believe it would be this easy. ¡°Now Reaver!¡± I cried, while looking over his shoulder. Reaver, clever beast that he is, snarled convincingly. The poor cretin bought it. Of course, Reaver was on the ground, still confined within his net where they¡¯d dropped him. However, the moment the thug took his eyes off me I dashed forward and used my dagger to trap his sword while delivering a vicious slash to the inside of his thigh. There was no flash for a critical hit this time, but that¡¯s not what I had been going for. *TTIRING*
    Status Effect Success!
    You have successfully applied the status effect: Bleed on your target
    Duration:10 secs
    A surprised person¡¯s first instinct when attacked will be to protect the head and torso. It¡¯s just naturally ingrained in us, and for a good reason. Most vital points are located there. Most, however, definitely does not mean all. Since protecting some parts means others are neglected, experienced fighters will take full advantage of that. People like me. The guard stumbled back with a cry of pain, and lowered his free hand to try to staunch the blood gushing from the wound. While I was satisfied that I¡¯d been able to nail the femoral artery, I was disappointed to see the bleeding effect would only last for 10 seconds. Perhaps the cut had just been too shallow? No matter, it would be enough. The thug was truly panicking now, and with a few feinted thrusts and slashes, I drove him back until he slipped on his own blood and fell to the ground. Not one to reject a freely offered gift, I deflected the desperate thrust he used to keep me at bay with my dagger, and returned it with a flickering slash to his wrist. While normally I would have aimed for a finishing blow, my hand was already growing leaden and I wasn¡¯t sure I¡¯d be able to keep hold of my sword if I swung with too much force. That was the main reason I¡¯d used only feints. I only had a couple more real swings left in my arms. In situations like this, cruel as it may seem, the most efficient way was to aim to disable your target and weaken him enough that you could finish the fight safely. Now that he was on the ground, and overcome with panic, it was time. I lifted my sword high for the killing blow, when I heard Shia scream, ¡°Above you!¡± I was caught completely by surprise, but I instinctively knew that a half-second¡¯s hesitation would cost me dearly. Jumping backward, I barely managed to avoid a deadly slash that would have split my head neatly in half as a shadow landed between myself and my would-be victim. Glancing up, I saw what I¡¯d feared the most. Tarik¡¯s reinforcements had arrived. The new thug was recovering from his swing and cursing his bad luck, while another man was jumping down a dozen feet behind me. I was trapped. ¡°Looks two dead, and one almost there,¡± the man facing me called out, while sending probing attacks with his sword, which I barely had the stamina left to deflect. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this and get out of here before the guards get here,¡± called the man at my back, and I could hear the sound of a sword leaving its scabbard. ¡°Careful,¡± my opponent called out. ¡°I heard someone warning him right before I nailed the bastard. He has help.¡± The other man cursed as he stopped his progress. I assume he was surveying the alley around him. At least that bought me some time. Judging from his posture and the way he held his sword, the man I was facing knew what he was doing. This wouldn¡¯t be an easy fight, even if it were a one on one, which it wasn¡¯t because the other man would soon realize no one was helping me and would happily drive a couple inches of steel into my back. If only I¡¯d been able to free Reaver, at the very least. Too late for regrets now, it was do or die. Gripping my sword with renewed resolve, I feinted a couple times, but he didn¡¯t buy it. On the third, he made me pay for it with a quick stab that almost nailed my hand to the wall. Growling under my breath, I kicked a loose pebble at him, then rushed him in hopes he¡¯d let down his guard. However, he didn¡¯t even flinch as the rock hit him, and swatted my sword aside hard enough that I almost lost my grip on it. Realizing I was off-balance, he pressed his shoulder against mine and shoved me against the wall, pinning my sword-arm. Just as he drew his own sword back to stab it down at my neck, I headbutted him square on the nose, but there was no real power in the blow and he kicked me away more in surprise than in actual pain. The blow was enough to throw me off my feet and expel all the wind from my lungs. I crashed against a nearby crate and could only cough desperately as a cloud of flour rose from the bags in it. I grabbed one of the bags and threw it at his head, stalling for time. The man disdainfully blocked the bag with his arm, but I had managed to run the edge of my blade on the bag before throwing it, and the impact tore it wide open. A flurry of white powder covered the alley, and as I lifted my right hand to protect my eyes, I noticed something unexpected. The glyphs on my hand were pulsing with a deep red glow. Surprised, I backed away blindly and managed to stumble on the body of the man whose heart I¡¯d pierced with my sword. Abruptly, dark flames swirled around the man¡¯s corpse and were drawn towards the glowing sigils on the back of my hand. Their light grew in intensity the more flames they absorbed, faster and faster until the last of the flames were absorbed and a blinding flash emanated from my hand. At the same time, in my ears I felt a titanic roar, as though a gigantic waterfall were smashing against bedrock hundreds, no thousands of feet below. I looked up in surprise as a notice box popped up in front of my eyes. *TTIRING*
    You have successfully absorbed the soul of fallen enemy!
    You have absorbed the soul of an opponent whom you have defeated in battle. Your Soul Points are refilled by one.
    Soul Points:1 / 5
    ¡°Mommy, a soul! Burn it!¡± came Shia¡¯s urgent call. ¡°What?¡± *TTIRING*
    New Skill Acquired: Flame of the Soulbound
    You have acquired a Soul, and as one of the Soulbound, you are entitled to burn its power to empower your own. Utilizing this skill stabilizes the core soul of the Soulbound and grants a boost to different stats depending on the soul consumed. In addition, certain souls have a chance of unlocking new skills
    Restriction:Soulbound only
    Burn a soul? Hell, I had nothing to lose. ¡°Flame of the Soulbound!¡± *TTIRING*
    You have activated ¡°Flame of the Soulbound¡±!
    Strength +5 Agility +3 Constitution +3 Special Skill Acquired: Overkill
    Duration:Special
    The burning sigils in my hand blazed with newly kindled light as power I beyond all expectation infused every cell of my being. It was as though my body had been frozen in the deepest recesses of winter for all this time, and for the first time a blazing fire had been brought to roaring life in my heart. I felt short of breath as my chest pumped like bellows and my pulse hammered like anvils in my ears. Veins visibly pulsed as liquid fire roared through them, and suddenly I was ready for this. ¡°Shia, interpose real time location of target enemy over current locale.¡± Immediately, the impenetrable cloud of fine powder was gone and the somewhat grainy image of a clear alley with a man blindly retreating while shaking his head back and forth could be seen as clearly as if he were standing right in front of me. Without pausing to think about it, I deftly drew my dagger and flipped it in the air, then grabbing it by the blade, took aim and let fly with a powerful throw using my whole body as a whip. The image Shia superimposed showed the deadly blade flying straight to its target and striking true, right in his eye. A dreadful howl could be heard echoing from his lips, but I was already moving and beyond caring. While the man desperately clutched at the bloody dagger driven into his eye, I dashed toward him and leapt to his left. The man heard the sound of my steps and when I took the leap, he let go of his ruined eye socket to blindly swing his sword in the direction of the sound. Sparks flew off his sword as his blow collided against the wall just under my foot. Without stopping, I pushed off the wall and leapt even higher, holding my sword in a two-handed grip. In my mind, I could see the blow before I executed it, the way I had to grip the sword just so, the singular focus to bring it all into this one strike. I cried out as I brought my sword down with all the power I could muster. *TTIRING*
    Special Attack: Overkill Success!
    By harnessing all your power and explosively focusing it in a single blow, you are able to deal tremendous damage at the sacrifice of greatly increased stamina expenditure and leaving yourself vulnerable to a counter-attack!
    Damage Dealt:120
    *TTIRING*
    You have gained 460 xp!
    The resulting impact created shockwave that cleared a ring of all powder as my blade neatly cleaved the man in half, starting from his shoulder and coming out at his hip. It was an instant kill. As soon as I landed the blow, I was already withdrawing the sword and turning around calling out, ¡°Shia, track next target.¡± In the alley beyond I could see the other man frowning in my direction, no doubt trying to make out the shapes within the fine mist. No need to draw this out any longer than I had to. I retrieved my dagger from the dead man and calmly walked out of the mist, towards my next opponent. The man blinked as though he couldn¡¯t believe his eyes. ¡°It can¡¯t be! Jaskel, are you there?¡± He licked his lips anxiously as he shifted the grip on his sword. ¡°Jaskel¡¯s gone,¡± I called out while lightly swirling my sword around in one hand, the dagger in the other. It all seemed so easy, when seconds ago I¡¯d barely been able to hang on to them. It was all coming back to me, the supreme rush of confidence, the spike of adrenaline, the intoxicating taste of blood and metal in the air. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d care to join him.¡± ¡°I.. ah..¡± The man flicked a glance over his shoulder, probably weighing his chances of making a getaway. ¡°You can try and run,¡± I nodded to him, as I casually stabbed my sword down into the spine of the man whom I had cut down earlier but could not finish off thanks to these interlopers. ¡°You might even make it, if you want it enough.¡± The man could only stare as I experimentally held out my hand towards the body of the man I¡¯d just killed. Obligingly, dark flames sprang to life from the corpse and were rapidly absorbed into my hand, until it was all gone with an audible SWOOSH. I threw my head back and exhaled as if I had just downed a triple shot glass of tequila. *TTIRING*
    You have successfully absorbed the soul of fallen enemy!
    You have absorbed the soul of an opponent whom you have defeated in battle. Your Soul Points are refilled by one.
    Soul Points:2 / 5
    It was just so invigorating. ¡°Wh.. what are you?¡± cried out the man, his hands shaking uncontrollably. And I finally understood who I was. ¡°Why, the Deathwalker, of course,¡± I drawled out, leisurely walking toward him, flicking my blade to one side to clean the blood off. ¡°The Devourer of Souls.¡± A few seconds later, he was dead and another mass of dark flames gathered into my hand and hissed quietly as they were absorbed. *** In the end, I absorbed a total of 5 souls, all the men I¡¯d killed in that dark alleyway. Light smoke still swirled from my hand, and on its back there were now five glowing circles of sigils slowly spinning in place, four clockwise and counterclockwise. I didn¡¯t know what it meant, and Shia had been strangely silent for a while now. ¡°Shia?¡± ¡°Mommy?¡± came the somewhat hesitant voice. ¡°Are you.. alright?¡± ¡°Shia¡¯s glad mommy is not hurt but..¡± Shia began, but trailed off. ¡°Did the fight scare you?¡± ¡°Only because I was afraid mommy would get hurt!¡± exclaimed Shia. ¡°Then what¡¯s the problem?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Is it because of.. because I took their souls?¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°I thought you wanted me to burn that soul.¡± ¡°What is a soul?,¡± came unexpected question. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°What happened to those men?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Will mommy be alright?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± ¡°But you will keep using them,¡± Shia continued, more a statement than a question. ¡°I will. Look Shia, I wish I could consider options and have all the answers before choosing my path, but that¡¯s a luxury I¡¯ve never had. I can only move forward and deal with everything else as it comes, one step at a time.¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Shia?¡± ¡°Shia trusts mommy,¡± came the firm reply, and that was that. Just as I¡¯d finished rolling a piece of cloth around my hand to conceal its glow, I heard steps quickly approaching from the alley¡¯s entrance along with voices I recognized. I promptly searched the bodies, leaving the cheap weapons for the guard to find, although I did keep Jaskel¡¯s sword - that one was of a whole different class from the others. I still had an image to maintain, though looking at the mangled corpses at my feet, it¡¯d be hard to explain that I truly had not been intentionally playing with my prey. I found a few coins, but what truly interested me was a note I found on the man named Jaskel. I studied it for a moment, then put it in my pocket. This would come in handy. I turned around just in time. ¡°Lord Seth!¡± cried Zephyr as he saw me covered in blood. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I assured him, moving towards Sol. He was still unconscious, but other than a big lump on his head he seemed fine. ¡°See to Sol, if you would.¡± Zephyr quickly complied. As soon as I freed Reaver, he rushed over to Sol¡¯s side - not without first giving me yet another of those damn slobbering kisses, of course. Catching a thoughtful hum behind me, I turned around to find Vyse and his men stepping into the alley. I nodded my greeting to Watcher Vyse, who examined the scene with a professional¡¯s eye. ¡°Perhaps you are as deadly as the word on the street says,¡± Vyse commented, bending down to examine one of the bodies. ¡°Clean cut to the femoral artery. Very precise. I¡¯m impressed.¡± ¡°Stroke of luck, as it was almost too shallow,¡± I replied, shrugging off the compliment. ¡°As you can see, I was acting..¡± ¡°On behalf of the little ones, and in defense of your life. Yes, I can see that,¡± Vyse interrupted. Then he turned to look at me in the eye. ¡°As to whether the men in Tarik¡¯s pocket will agree, now that is a matter of debate.¡± I let out an exhausted breath. ¡°Thank you, Vyse. We¡¯d planned to be gone this morning.¡± Vyse shrugged. ¡°We do what we can, my friend. I wish there was more..¡± I quickly shook my head. ¡°It is more than enough. I just need time. In a week¡¯s time, I hope to put an end to Tarik¡¯s schemes once and for all.¡± Vyse¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°That¡¯d be quite a deed, if you could manage it. The whole town would sleep a little easier for it, too. However, don¡¯t underestimate Tarik. These men were just street scum, wearing rags and wielding rusty scrap metal. He has plenty more where these came from. He will be ready next time, and it will be his enforcers you will face then. Deadly men, who spill blood like water from a well, equipped with the best Tarik can afford.¡± I nodded to Vyse. ¡°I will take your words to heart. However, he¡¯s not the only one who will be ready.¡± Vyse looked around the scene of the carnage, and let out a dubious laugh. ¡°If this is you unprepared, then truly I feel pity for Tarik and his men.¡± I shook my head ruefully while Vyse offered me his hand. ¡°A few days, you say?¡± whispered Vyse. ¡°One way or another, this ends in one week,¡± I repeated, then clasped his hand in mine. ¡°Count on it.¡± ¡°Why all this bad blood, if you don¡¯t mind the question?¡± Vyse asked as I turned around to leave. I paused for a moment before answering over my shoulder, while tapping the pocket where I¡¯d put Shia. "Because eventually, everyone has something they must protect at the cost of all else." "..." ¡°Besides, the bastard stole a kiss from my daughter.¡± "Mommy can be kinda scary sometimes.." came Shia''s soft voice from within my pocket. "But Shia will protect mommy!" I ignored Vyse¡¯s puzzled expression as I headed for the exit, laughing the whole way. Chapter 16 - Rise of the Scholar and Advent of the Calamity Cook! Chapter 16 - Rise of the Scholar and Advent of the Calamity Cook! Author''s notes: I did my best under very limited time constrains to write and edit this chapter, but if you happen to catch any major inconsistencies or typos, please don''t hesitate to point them out. Thanks for reading! ¡°So, how is he?¡± I kept my eyes on Sol, who was still lying unconscious on the floor of Zephyr¡¯s little hut. ¡°He has sustained a minor shock to his cranium, but fortunately there is no major trauma and he will recover fully once he gains back consciousness,¡± Zephyr commented, relief evident in his voice. ¡°Very well. Everything else is ready, so soon as Sol comes to, it¡¯ll be time for us to disappear from here. You¡¯ll manage fine without us, I assume?¡± ¡°Certainly, Lord Seth. It will weigh heavily on my disposition to absent myself from the daring exploits that seem to hound your every step, but for the time being I shall manage with fulfilling my role as a humble practitioner of the arts of the Scales and Measures.¡± ¡°Just don¡¯t forget to gather information on the library¡¯s location,¡± I noted tiredly, and held up a hand before Zephyr could launch into another of his speeches. "Spare me the details." I just could not get used to Zephyr¡¯s way of speaking. A simple word in the affirmative, or even a mere nod would have sufficed. Instead, here I had my own walking thesaurus. Still, I had to admit I was fortunate to be able to count him as an ally. Glancing at Zephyr as he gently tended to the unconscious Sol, I had to pause to consider the paradox of the man. On the one hand, he was an open book. There seemed to be no guile or evil in him. None whatsoever. It was to the point where an individual as jaded and cynical as me could not help but be instantly suspicious. However, so far there seemed to be no end to the crystal clear waters of the placid lake known as Saint Zephyr. Yeah, this was the kind of guy that ended up canonized in some obscure sacred text as the patron saint of yada yada. Goodness and kindness personified, that was our Zephyr. In the other, I simply could not understand what drove a man like this. What made the cogs in his inner machine wind and turn? Long years watching the ways of the world had taught me that idealists only lived on pipe dreams until a rough awakening of one sort or the other. Until then, they spouted their nonsense simply because they didn¡¯t know any better. However, Zephyr didn¡¯t strike me as one such. He did not seem deluded or misguided. Rather, he seemed fiercely determined and principled to a fault. That is not to say he was perfect. He was harboring some kind of secret. Apparently, he wasn¡¯t human, or at least not fully so. For a humble merchant, he also had a disturbingly wide field of knowledge, even going as far as being able to instantly identify a magic diagram of the ninth circle. Now, I didn¡¯t know anything about such, but just the fact that Zephyr claimed never to have seen one in all the texts he had studied in the - what was it, ¡°Librarium Arcana¡±? - seemed to indicate this was no mere aficionado talking about a simple hobby. As if he could feel my scrutiny, Zephyr looked up and met my eyes. After a long pause, during which his eyes were uncharacteristically inscrutable, my venture business partner slowly nodded to me. Unconsciously, I found myself nodding back. It was the kind of intimate gesture shared between comrades who have been through life and death situations together. A rare bond because it is very difficult to manufacture through artificial means. Instead, it naturally forms when you scrape by enough hairy situations that you''ve left a fair about of collective skin and blood behind. By my book, Zephyr had earned that much from me many times over. As if suddenly reaching a decision, Zephyr closed his eyes and let out a deep breath I didn''t know he''d been holding. Then, he crossed the distance between us with decisive steps and bowed deeply to me from the waist. I was immediately taken aback by the gesture and its implied formality. "Lord Seth," he intoned when he came back up. "I would take this opportunity to remark upon the unusual set of circumstances which have led us to become so closely acquainted to one another. It is my firm belief that no event thus far is the result of random circumstance or mere happenstance. Rather, we are all singular notes, faithfully resonating to the tune of a higher purpose within the grand symphony of the universe." I squinted my eyes and firmly shook my head. "I don''t buy it. My choices are my own and no one else''s." Zephyr nodded placidly, as though he''d expected as much. "Of course, I understand your perspective and appreciate it. I even agree with you, to a certain extent. You see, Lord Seth, I have come to realize that you are indeed an unpredictable factor, a discordant note within the harmony of this song. It is my theory that it has been granted to you to become an agent of chaos within the elaborate tapestry of fate, to change the artificial into the organic." "Sounds like a fancy load of bull, added to which I don''t care for the idea of limiting my choices within the confines of a structured system," I replied brusquely, annoyed at how close to the mark Zephyr''s observation had been to the true nature of Aeterna. Didn''t mean I had to like it. ¡°I choose my own destiny.¡± Zephyr nodded his acquiescence. "I have noted as much. All in all, it does seem somewhat of a paradox. As I said, it is only a theory. I will share my further observations once I have more data." "Eh, don''t bother," I muttered. Zephyr simply smiled, and I just knew he''d choose to ignore my opinion on that, too. He changed the tone of the discussion and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In any case, I would like to thank you for the wonderful opportunity this presents to test some long-held theories of mine. I have also come to appreciate the fact that we have become comrades. As such, I would like to offer the benefit of my training to your cause." My ears immediately perked up that that. If I had a tail I would have been wagging it too. "What kind of training are we talking here?" "Well, as a servant of the lord of Scales and Commodities, I have a unique set of.." I quickly held my hand up to end that particular line of inquiry. "Please, please spare me any of that," I said in a hoarse whisper, suppressing a shudder. "How about the skills you learned as a disciple of the healing order?" "You mean my former life as a devotee to the Lady Arabelle, great are her tender mercies?" asked Zephyr, as though surprised. "I''m sorry Lord Seth, but though your intellect would be more than sufficient for the task, your rather appalling lack of faith in the Greater Powers pose quite the impassable challenge." "Figures.." I muttered under my breath. "Damn stingy gods.." "Of course, there are simple novice level feats of meditation and enlightenment that would be within your reach," Zephyr continued, instantly capturing all of my errant attention once more. "If you will allow me a moment.¡± Turning around, Zephyr unlocked the strongbox that contained all his valuables, and after rummaging around for a while, carefully withdrew a handful of intricately inscribed scrolls. ¡°Ah, yes. You may have the choice of one of the following,¡± he explained while showing me each item in turn. ¡°A mantra that channels your own reservoir of inner energy to instantly heal a minor amount of damage; a chant to call upon the holy power of your patron god or goddess in order to infuse divine power into the weapon of your choice; lastly, a simple trick of meditation that allows one¡¯s body and spirit to recover lost stamina and health at an exponentially higher rate, though it cannot be used in combat." "That''s a tough decision, Zephyr. Is there a reason why I cannot simply learn all three?" I asked, always one to push for every available advantage. "I''m afraid that though they are only initiate level rituals, they would still greatly tax any untrained individual''s capacity to adapt to new techniques. They are actually used to gradually shape the unconscious mind of the newly adept into the required levels of concentration to achieve mastery of the intermediate levels of the sacred mysteries.." Zephyr paused as he caught my exasperated look, then had the grace to flush slightly before continuing. "Ah, in other words, I can give you the techniques you need, but in order to be able to utilize even one you would need at the very least half a year of constant, rigorous training. Since they branch out to different schools of thought and perception, you would need to spend a comparable amount of time with the other two." "You gotta be shitting me," I half-shouted, appalled. ¡°That''s a year and a half! For ¡®simple¡¯ beginners¡¯ tricks?¡± Zephy nodded to me. ¡°The depth of the holy mysteries of the Lady Arabelle, may her light shine upon us forever, are unfathomable.¡± I barely held back a snort, and blew out a breath of frustration while considering my choices. All three skills would be incredibly useful! To choose only one. Or wait, maybe I didn¡¯t have to choose just one. ¡°Zephyr, according to you those scrolls contain the knowledge and techniques needed, but it would still take a considerable time to acquire the skills?¡± Zephyr nodded to me. I frowned slightly. ¡°Does this hold true for any skills, or is it just for the.. ah, holy mysteries?¡± Zephyr raised an eyebrow. ¡°I believe every skill worth acquiring takes a comparable amount of effort and time, Lord Seth. Do you not find this to be the case?¡± ¡°Hmm. Apparently, not always,¡± I murmured. This was very revealing. I had been able to learn the skill ¡°Overkill¡± immediately upon absorbing the thug¡¯s soul. If Zephyr¡¯s answer held any truth to it, then that meant my ability to acquire skills by stealing my opponents¡¯ souls was incredibly powerful. I was in fact not only devouring their souls and burning them to fuel my own, I was also able to steal their techniques and make them my own! Little wonder that the Devourer of Souls of ages past had been able to conquer the known world. Not that I would settle for that. No, I had far more ambitious designs than that. I shook myself loose from my daydreaming. Until I could fully harness the potential of my newly acquired status as the Deathwalker, that was all such ambitions would amount to: mere flights of fancy. I needed to get my hands on the power needed to make such plans a feasible reality. Nodding to myself, I turned to Zephyr. ¡°Can I have all three scrolls now, as opposed to choosing one?¡± Zephyr smiled as though he¡¯d been expecting no less from me. ¡°Of course, Lord Seth. I prepared for just such an event and had these scrolls prepared for you to take with you and study at your own leisure.¡± Smart man, he was beginning to understand how I worked. ¡°Thank you, Zephyr,¡± I said gravely, and shook his hand in earnest. The gesture seemed to please him greatly, and we exchanged a look of mutual appreciation, which quickly passed as I hastily let go of his hands and coughed to clear my throat. ¡°Ahem, well then. Shia, I have something for..¡± I called out, letting Zephyr get back to looking after Sol and turning around to look for my newly adopted kid. CHOMP I couldn¡¯t help but stare with a mixture of disbelief and shock as I found my hand halfway inside a book - yes, INSIDE, as in fully inserted through the paper - as Shia clamped down on the scrolls with an appreciative MMMMM! and made crunching sounds as the pages moved around my hand. ¡°What the..¡± Before I even had time to shake her loose, Shia had already let go of my hand and settled on the ground, lying in a satisfied puddle of haphazardly arranged pages with a very unladylike burp. Of course, the scrolls were gone. ¡°We really need to talk about table manners,¡± I admonished, but couldn¡¯t help but chuckle ruefully as the smiley on Shia¡¯s cover turned to one of sleepy contentment. ^_______^ ¡°Shia,¡± I called out gently while picking up the book and walking towards the corner of the room that had the dubious distinction of sporting the only desk in Zephyr¡¯s home. The one room cottage was really very poorly equipped to house all the guests it had at the moment. Monopolizing the one desk in the place was the only option left to me, since I finally would be able to devote some time to a task I¡¯d been itching to get my hands on for a while now. ¡°Shia, will you let me look at your pages?¡± I asked somewhat awkwardly. The sigils on the cover of the book shimmered for an instant before slowly unfolding itself in my hands and turning to the very first page. There, my eyes went wide as I took in its contents. ¡°You.. you¡¯re.. still blank!¡± I muttered, disappointed. Instantly, the page turned a slight orange color and I could swear the whole book started to shake uncontrollably with suppressed mirth. ¡°Hah. Very funny. Got me,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Hehehe. Shia got mommy,¡± came my daughter¡¯s tinkling laughter. ¡°Stop playing around, I¡¯m serious here,¡± I admonished her, poking her warningly in the spine. ¡°Ow, fine, fine. Mommy¡¯s no fun,¡± complained Shia mock-glumly. ¡°What would you like to see?¡± ¡°Do you currently have any information on souls or soulbinding?¡± That was the question I¡¯d been most anxious to ask. ¡°Nope,¡± came the flat answer. ¡°Are you su..¡± I began, but was interrupted. ¡°Really, mommy?¡± Hah, my daughter was picking up an attitude. I wondered where from? ¡°Fine, how about the first book you ate? The secrets of the Umeji clan!¡± I immediately exclaimed. ¡°Oh, that. Sure, but just so you know, it smells funny,¡± Shia complained. With that, the pages in the book started to flip by themselves, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, until it came to a dead stop at a page in which the title read, ¡°Secrets Skills of the Umeji Clan¡±. Excitedly, I unconsciously gripped the edges of the page tighter as I pulled it closer and began to read. ¡°What the..¡± After a few minutes, I couldn¡¯t conceal my disappointment. ¡°Fufufu..¡± came Shia¡¯s laughter. ¡°Figures,¡± I grumbled, tossing Shia a warning look, which only served to draw forth even more laughter. ¡°Aw well, might as well learn what I can from it. Is this all? There¡¯s nothing about..¡± I trailed off helplessly, shrugging my shoulders. ¡°Sorry mommy, Shia told you Shia hasn¡¯t learned any fighting stuff,¡± came the slightly apologetic voice. ¡°But really, tanning? Leatherworking? Mining? What the hell, who were these Umeji?¡± I complained loudly. ¡°Mommy, according to the book they were an honorable clan recognized as the premier craftsmen of the Ae¡¯Sur tribes, having once had the honor to serve the Great Khan himself.¡± ¡°Shoemakers and farmers,¡± I grumbled. No wonder it had been in the possession of a family of Auroch herdsmen. ¡°Look at it on the bright side mommy. It states here in page 425, paragraph 2: ¡®Our skills have passed down the art of..¡± ¡°Wait wait,¡± I called out, holding my hand up. ¡°Did you just say page 425? That skinny little manuscript hardly even had 50 pages!¡± ¡°Mommy, really?¡± If a 6-year old book could sigh in utter exasperation, that¡¯s exactly what it would sound like. ¡°There were 52 pages of thick parchment, which held a very thin but durable sheet of high quality script inside. These contained a further 140 pages of coded information. They were actually drawn in a concise pattern of key structures which reveal the cypher to drawing a total of 644 pages for the final tome.¡± I closed my mouth, which had been hanging wide open, with a snap. I was reminded of Little Red Riding Hood standing before the Big Bad Wolf. ¡°My, grandma, what colossal cerebral cortex you have,¡± I mouthed. ¡°Ehehe, Shia heard that,¡± chimed Shia. ¡°Continue, Shia,¡± I waved her on. Children nowadays, really. ¡°As I was saying, it states in page 425, paragraph 2,¡± Shia continued eagerly, the words lighting up on the page as she read them. Yeah, Shia likes to be helpful like that. ¡°Our skills have passed down the art of drawing the living spiritual energy of an individual and infusing it into his spear and armor. However, the number of clansmen born with the innate ability to tap into the vast reservoir of mana required has been dwindling, until only I and my grandson are left. This manual is left as a failsafe and a precious heirloom, should the passing down of these secret techniques become impossible as tradition has demanded, from father to son.¡± ¡°In other words, the knowledge of this technique has died out because these desert cavemen are all about brawn and none of them have the intelligence to harness the amount of mana required for the techniques?¡± I spat out, incredulous. ¡°Mm-hmm. Seems about right,¡± Shia chirped. I stopped to consider the ramifications. A technique for reinforcing weapons and armor using my own mana. I had to admit I probably had more mana than I knew what to do with, thanks to my high Intelligence stat. If I could make such a technique mine, my combat abilities would receive an incredible boost! Reading further, however, brought my dreams of overnight world dominion to a resounding crash. If I was reading this right.. ¡°Only self-cast, non-transferable and worst of all, I must first learn the basic artisan¡¯s techniques? What is this crap?¡± I complained loudly. ¡°Fufu, it means mommy will have to learn to sew and plant,¡± came Shia¡¯s tinkling laughter. ¡°I didn¡¯t cross the boundaries of the nether world to make boots and grow flowers,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Oh, I think mommy will have to start with tanning hides and collecting weeds first,¡± Shia corrected, ever so helpful. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. There had to be a way around this. I would have to study this material with more attention. Ultimately, I would do anything to get my hands on more power, and these Umeji clan skills looked too promising to reject out of hand. Beggars can¡¯t be choosers, and though it stung to admit it, realistically speaking I was pathetically weak, even with my new powers. This reminded me, I hadn¡¯t looked at my status window for a long time now. I surreptitiously uncovered the bandage covering my right hand. The five circles were still glowing, though the brightness had dulled somewhat. By the same token, that intoxicating feeling of power surging through my entire body was still there, waiting to be tapped. I had expected the skill to be cancelled or to wear off soon thereafter, but the duration had specified ¡°special¡±, and its effects were still ongoing. Though, looking more closely, it looked like one of the circles had grown a little smaller. ¡°Status Window¡± I murmured. *Diiing*
    Status Window
    Name:SethAlignment:Neutral
    Level:3 (85% XP until next level)Class:Scholar
    Race:HumanAffiliation:Ancient History
    Gender:MaleTalent:Stubborn Mule
    Traits
    • Soulbound - Bound to another soul
    • Flawed Soul - Defiant of the rules of Soul Forging
    • Paranoid Survivalist - Survivor the Mists of Serenity
    • Relentless - Victorious in a battle of wills against the Gates of Oblivion
    • Shameless manipulator - Aced a con from a busted hand.
    • Devious mastermind - Plotter of intricate schemes and stratagems.
    • Mathematical wizard - Solver of riddles and puzzles to boggle the mind.
    • Relentless
    Achievements
    • Training Day Disaster
  • Fame:1100Infamy:0
    -
    Health:78 / 78Soul Points:5 / 5
    Mana:170 / 170Synch Rate0.1%
    Stamina:13 / 13????
    -
    Strenght:8(+5)Agility:7(+3)
    Constitution:10(+3)
    Intelligence:22Wisdom:12
    Charisma:6Luck:13
    -
    Attack:5Defense:3(+20)
    M.Attack:22M.Defense:17
    Physical Resistances
    Slashing:1Piercing:1
    Crushing:1
    Elemental Resistances
    Fire:0Water:0
    Wind:0Earth:0
    Light:0Darkness:0
    I was thunderstruck. I had expected some improvement after using "Flame of the Soulbound", but my health had improved by a factor of 10! Not only that, but all my other stats had gained a boost of at least 100% or more. What was this abnormal improvement in stats? Then I sat for a while to consider the facts as I had them. Even though I had not devoted any points in Strength, would it be normal for a person striking another¡¯s face with a full swing using a wooden pole to not do any damage at all? At first I thought it was a combination of my body¡¯s feebleness and the power of my enemies. However, in the fight I had earlier today I had been able to knock out their leader with just a rock. True, I had swung it down as hard as I could from a great height, but that still didn¡¯t explain the fact that I¡¯d been able to do 25 points of damage from a simple rock, even if it was a critical hit. If that was the kind of damage one could expect from a well-placed rock, my broomstick and follow-up counter-punch should have been able to at least deal some damage. Frowning, I murmured, ¡°Skill information, ¡°Flame of the Soulbound.¡± *TTIRING*
    Flame of the Soulbound
    You are one of the Soulbound, with the ability to burn others'' souls to empower your own. Utilizing this skill stabilizes the core soul of the Soulbound and grants a boost to different stats depending on the soul consumed. In addition, certain souls have a chance of unlocking new skills Currently consuming: Lesser human soul Strength +5 Agility +3 Constitution +3 Skill acquired: Overkill
    Restriction:Soulbound only
    I carefully read the description over and over again, and one part in particular caught my attention. ¡°Stabilizes the core soul?¡± I mumbled, lost in thought. Zephyr looked up at that. ¡°Lord Seth?¡± I looked at Zephyr and weighed my options. On the one hand, I could choose to confide in him and obtain precious information. In the other, I certainly did not want to further encourage more nonsense about me being some agent of chaos. In the end, as happens more often than not, the pragmatist in me won out over the cantankerous hermit demanding secrecy. As I explained the events in the alley and how I¡¯d obtained the power to defeat my enemies, Zephyr¡¯s eyes remained fixed with equal parts wonder and something I hadn¡¯t expected from Zephyr - hunger. It was as though he were a parched survivor of an endless desert, and the enigma that were the strange glowing symbols on the back of my hand were the only source of water he¡¯d seen in days. Weeks. ¡°Theoretically, Lord Seth, the acute weakness you¡¯ve been feeling may have been caused by the very peculiarity in your soul that allows you to absorb and wield the spiritual essence of vanquished foes,¡± Zephyr murmured thoughtfully, more to himself than to anyone else. ¡°If we assume that one of the prerequisites in order to be able to draw in other souls and drain their power to empower your own is that the vessel - that is, you - have the capacity to do so in the first place. As a simple metaphor, we must first spill before being able to refill.¡± I nodded slowly. It made sense. Perhaps that¡¯s part of what it meant to be a flawed soul. If so, this was an extremely powerful ability - though only so long as I continued to have souls to burn. I would have to find out more information. This made the search for the lost Imperial Library of Korendur even more urgent. Who knew how long I would be able to stay in this empowered state before I completely depleted the energy from the soul? Would I be able to keep the skills I learned? Could there be any withdrawal symptoms or secondary effects, as though from a strong steroid? The questions were endless, but it seemed there would be no answers to be found here. ¡°Oooh, Mister got some nifty tattooes,¡± came Sol¡¯s slightly bleary voice. Reaver immediately perked his ears up and would have happily pounced on the dazed looking Sol if I hadn¡¯t reached out and pulled him back by the back of his neck. I was pleasantly surprised to find I now had enough strength to at least give Reaver a pause. ¡°Ooww..¡± the Kha¡¯zik pup whined plaintively. ¡°None of that for now. Let Zephyr first check him over. Then you can smother him in all the drool you like - while we¡¯re on the road. It¡¯s time.¡± ¡°Yay, I¡¯m ready mister!¡± Sol cried out excitedly. ¡°Wooof!¡± chorused Reaver. ¡°Alright then, let¡¯s get going.¡± *TTIRING*
    You have formed a party!
    As the party leader, you have invited others into your party. All members will share experience and loot until the party is disbanded. All relevant party buffs and bonuses will apply in proportion to your leadership skill.
    Party Members:Sol Reaver
    Active Party Effects and Bonuses: Exp increased 20%
    A party window! I had not expected that. We had even received a bonus to experience. What other kind of bonuses or buffs would be applied? What was this leadership skill? Even without those, there might be other benefits to this. Thoughtfully scratching my head, I decided it couldn¡¯t hurt to try so I whispered, ¡°Status Window: Sol¡±. *Diiing*
    Status Window
    Name:SolAlignment:Neutral
    Level:4 (20% XP until next level)Class:??
    Race:??Affiliation:??
    Gender:FemaleTalent:Hot Blooded
    Traits
    • Orphan - Child of tragedy
    • Resilient - Weathered the storm
    • Single-minded - Or is it simple-minded?
    Achievements
    • Last Survivor
    Fame:0Infamy:0
    -
    Health:130 / 130??:??
    Mana:10 / 10????
    Stamina:52 / 52????
    -
    Strenght:28Agility:23
    Constitution:13
    Intelligence:5Wisdom:5
    Charisma:6Luck:6
    -
    Attack:28(+5)Defense:18(+25)
    M.Attack:-M.Defense:-
    Physical Resistances
    Slashing:2Piercing:2
    Crushing:2
    Elemental Resistances
    Fire:0Water:0
    Wind:0Earth:0
    Light:0Darkness:0
    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. I stopped dead in my tracks and stared dumbly at Sol. The kid was a monster! 28 Strength? 23 Agility? I had seen him effortlessly dash around with that huge sword on his back, so I¡¯d assumed he¡¯d be able to handle himself in a scrap. This, however, was so far beyond my wildest expectations I did not know how to take it. He had more than double my strength and agility! Yet, so far I hadn¡¯t seen him swing that sword even once. Not only that, but he¡¯d managed to get himself captured by Tarik¡¯s cronies not once, but twice - without being able to inflict so much as a single casualty. Sol seemed to notice my scrutiny, and turned his head to meet my eyes with those big, guileless eyes of his, grinning disarmingly. I¡¯d noticed one of his traits was ¡°Single-minded¡±, or ¡°Simple-minded¡± depending on how you chose to read it. He did indeed look as though he¡¯d forgotten that only a day ago he¡¯d been destined to end up on the slave blocks, separated from his only family, a giant bag of fleas. Ignorance truly is bliss, I suppose. I rolled my eyes and turned away, but decided this duo merited closer inspection. ¡°Status Window: Reaver,¡± I mouthed. *Diiing*
    Status Window
    Name:ReaverAlignment:Neutral
    Level:5 (10% XP until next level)Class:??
    Race:??Affiliation:??
    Gender:MaleTalent:Indomitable Spirit
    Traits
    • Guardian - One who protects
    • Loyal - Adamant and unyielding to the end
    Achievements
    • Survivor - Stood till the end
    Fame:0Infamy:50
    -
    Health:180 / 180??:??
    Mana:28 / 28????
    Stamina:72 / 72????
    -
    Strenght:23Agility:30
    Constitution:18
    Intelligence:6Wisdom:7
    Charisma:3Luck:5
    -
    Attack:30Defense:24
    M.Attack:-M.Defense:-
    Physical Resistances
    Slashing:1Piercing:1
    Crushing:1
    Elemental Resistances
    Fire:0Water:0
    Wind:0Earth:0
    Light:0Darkness:0
    I tried hard not to choke. Even the damn mutt was a monster! Not only was it a full level higher than Sol, those stats were loaded. It was no wonder that Tarik had needed five men in order to capture him the first time, and they had to pay in blood to overcome him. Ridiculous! These were the "kids" I''d almost gotten myself killed trying to save? Hell, if anything, it should be the other way around! I was glad I¡¯d turned away first, since I would have a very difficult time explaining why my lips were stretched from cheek to cheek in a sadistic snarl. These kids were diamonds in the rough, but they¡¯d been allowed to rot in the dust for too long. No more. I was going to run them ragged, practically into the ground. Then I would really get started on them. They would rue the day they ever stumbled across me. ¡°Mommy, I¡¯m scared,¡± came Shia¡¯s whimper from inside my pocket. *** ¡°W.. water..¡± I panted, dragging myself up on my elbows and spitting out a handful of sand. ¡°Here mister, don¡¯t die,¡± whispered Sol, holding my head up as he brought a canteen of the precious liquid to my parched lips. Reaver hovered uncomfortably close to me as well, no doubt also worried about my chances of survival. It had been four hours since we had set off. It felt like 2 weeks. After making sure Sol was alright - the kid was surprisingly sturdy - and that we had all our supplies loaded on my auroch, we had quickly bid our farewells to Zephyr and gotten on the road. The first stretch was actually the longest, since I simply wanted to put some distance between the town and my party. According to my information, it wasn¡¯t worth our time to linger in this area. The monsters were either too scarce or puny to warrant the effort. Besides, I wanted to reach our first stop before the sun went down. That was the beginning of this march from hell. Dust as far as the eye could behold, and it simply ran rampant into every opening between our clothes, boots and bodily cavities. It itched something fierce. Sparse vegetation that held more thorns than anything remotely useful, and the rest of it was just rocks and more rocks. I had resolved we would all be walking and only using the auroch as a beast of burden. This was in order to increase our stamina. Nothing like a good forced march to get everyone in the mood for some training. We carried plenty of water, and unsurprisingly I was the one who needed it the most. Luckily, I¡¯d purchased well-fitting boots made for travelling. Unfortunately, the rest of me was not. So, I found myself collapsing time and time again as I pushed my body beyond its reasonable limits. Why go to such extents? *TTIRING*
    You have gained a stat increase!
    Your relentless pursuit of self-inflicted physical abuse has yielded a body that can better withstand an arduous journey!
    Stamina increased:+1
    Yes! This was the third stamina point I¡¯d received. In the real world, this kind of insane death march would be inefficient due to the damage and fatigue sustained. However, in this world I needed only rest for a few minutes with plenty of water and some improvised shade, and my stamina points would eventually fill back up to full. Rinse and repeat. It would take some more time than expected to reach our destination, but it was definitely worth it. Besides, I wasn¡¯t just wasting my time while travelling. I had Shia in my hand the whole time, trusting Sol and Reaver to take the lead while I walked in their footsteps and read the book. I only lifted my eyes up momentarily and from time to time in order to check our course and correct it as needed. It was hardly necessary, as Shia was a swift and efficient navigator, telling us exactly which way to go with a big glowing arrow in the air. While Sol and Reaver clapped delightedly every time Shia pointed the way, I was far too busy, completely absorbed into my studies. Yes, I was finally living up to my class¡¯ potential. At long last, I was able to engage in some scholarly pursuits, and it was definitely paying off! I had hardly spent 10 minutes reading up on the skills of the Umeji Clan when a message box popped up. *TTIRING*
    You are now engaged in research!
    Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:
    Scholarly ResearchF11%
    As a scholar, your familiarity with various methods of research and study grant you bonuses to the rate and depth of comprehension of the target material once you dedicate a fixed amount of time to such pursuits. Note that familiarity with the research subject, type of study environment, and quality of source material also grant bonuses or penalties.
    It couldn¡¯t be helped that I¡¯d be getting penalties for the conditions I was studying under, and a subject I was completely unfamiliar with to boot. However, Shia was an excellent source material, and time practically flew as skills started rolling in every few minutes. *TTIRING*
    You have learned a new skill: Mining!
    Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:
    MiningF11%
    You may now harvest the bounties of the deep earth. You are able to find and collect different ores and precious stones
    *TTIRING*
    You have learned a new skill: Animal Trapping!
    Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:
    Animal TrappingF11%
    You are now able to devise simple traps to capture animals. You have also learned to skin and process the fur and leather you gain in the process, as well as harvesting various animal meats and parts.
    *TTIRING*
    You have learned a new skill: Imperial Cooking!
    Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:
    Imperial CookingF11%
    The secrets of serving the Imperial palate with delicacies from centuries past has been collected in this ancient skill. Creativity is a vital part of a successful cook, and thus you may also improvise your own masterpieces from existing recipes for unpredictable results!
    *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! You have reached level 4!
    Hell yes! A level up! Becoming a scholar was finally paying off, as I''d finally been able to level up, and without even lifting a single finger. These were just the fringe benefits, too! Once I found the Imperial Library of Legendary Korendur, the possibilities were endless. The skills I would learn. The lore I would unearth. The power I would wield. The skills were just another added bonus. I was particularly hopeful about that last skill. I¡¯d been quite the popular cook back home, where various officers under my command had often made special requests for me to cook for their men, mumbling something about it being by far the most effective morale booster. Perhaps my cooking would prove just as useful and celebrated in Aeterna. *** Eventually, we arrived to a dilapidated mound of ruins just as the sun was setting over the horizon. I quickly set about setting up a camp, which consisted of mainly ordering Sol and Reaver around as they carried out basic tasks. It was my job to train the brats, not to babysit them. ¡°Sol, set up our things over there, by the rocks. That way we¡¯ll have a good field of vision while still partly concealing our fire,¡± I ordered, pointing. ¡°Reaver, go out and gather some firewood. Don¡¯t give me that look, you know exactly what I¡¯m talking about. No wood, no chow for you, ungrateful mutt,¡± I berated the shameless mutt when he tried to pull the old ¡°I¡¯m just a dumb doggie¡± trick. ¡°Brush down and feed the Auroch.¡± ¡°Fetch water from the well.¡± ¡°Set up the bedrolls.¡± There were a surprising number of tasks needed to run an efficient camp, and even if there weren¡¯t, I would have invented some. What these brats needed most at the moment was some discipline in their lives, as well as some order to help them leave their terrible ordeal behind. As Sol stalked past me, grumbling about having to pick off the pebbles from under my bedroll, I dug around my pack. Time for the carrot. ¡°Hey kid, don¡¯t forget this,¡± I called out as I pulled out the armor I¡¯d purchased for Sol and threw it at him. The kid stumbled back with a cry of surprise as the weight hit him. ¡°Yeah, I asked for a couple modifications,¡± I commented over my shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal of it. ¡°For one, I asked for an extra layer of protection around the arms and shoulders. Since you¡¯re obsessed with that monstrous sword of yours, you won¡¯t be able to recover quickly enough after launching an attack. You will have to rely on deflecting blows rather than dodging them completely. That extra layer of mail mesh should help. I¡¯ll tell you about the other changes if I deem it necessary.¡± I grunted as a sudden weight hit me from behind. I looked down in surprise to find Sol¡¯s hands wrapped around my waist as he buried his face into my back. ¡°H.. hey, stop it, it¡¯s not a big deal,¡± I stammered, flustered. ¡°Thanks mister,¡± whispered Sol, his tone charged with feeling. ¡°This is the first time anyone¡¯s been so nice to me.¡± ¡°D.. don¡¯t get all mushy on me, it¡¯s just so you¡¯ll last a little while longer while serving as my meat shield,¡± I explained while flailing my arms expansively. ¡°Hehehe,¡± Sol laughed as he gave me another squeeze, and Shia joined in as well. Kids these days, no manners I tell you. When I finally disengaged Sol¡¯s grip, he grinned hugely as he put his new armor on. Although it was heavier than my own armor, it now had a higher defensive value as well. The last thing I needed was for the poor kid to get eaten by a couple rabid hyenas on our first hunting trip. That is why I had chosen to emphasize survivability before anything else. While Sol struggled to keep Reaver¡¯s curious sniffing at bay while putting on the unfamiliar gear, I withdrew the pocket-sized version of Shia from the chest pocket I had attached just for that purpose. Right, time for me to do my share of the work. I instructed Sol to keep an eye out while I settled down comfortably in front of the fire and pulled Shia out. ¡°Shia, show me ¡®Trance of Transcendence,¡¯¡± I whispered. Wordlessly, the book instantly flew open to display a colorful page with many diagrams, charts, bullet points and side notes. This had been yet another pleasant surprise, courtesy of my adopted daughter. On the very second study session I¡¯d engaged on while on the road, my eyes had nearly popped out of my sockets. Shia had, clever book that she is, somehow managed to make herself useful once more by re-organizing all the information in as effective a manner as possible. This increased the quality of the source material by leaps and bounds, and after learning a few more basic crafting skills, I decided to get a headstart on unlocking some of those essential skills Zephyr had passed down to me. My priority would be to learn the ¡°Trance of Transcendence¡±, which sounded like a cheap yoga parlour trick but in fact was an incredible skill that would become the cornerstone of Seth, the eventual Godslaughterer. Now there was a title to give one shivers of anticipation. According to its description, ¡°Trance of Transcendence¡±, or the trance as I called it for short, was a deep meditative state that increased the regeneration rate of HP, Mana, and stamina many times over the regular resting rate. Potentially, that meant that instead of having to wait minutes in between every time my stamina ran out, I could simply enter the trance and fill up to full in a matter of seconds! I could use and abuse the crap out of a skill like that! The only problem was the rate at which one could learn such a skill. Zephyr had said it would take me at least 6 months, but thanks to the bonus I received as a Scholar and my high intelligence, which I had pumped all my stat points into so far, I was able to achieve a 15% completion rate within my first day! I wondered how much further I could get now that I was in a more relaxed state, further accelerating my studying. Alas, it was not to be. A few moments later, Sol¡¯s woe begone face popped in between myself and the book, interrupting my research. The scowl that had been gathering at my brow instantly died down when I saw the woeful expression on his face, along with the growling of his stomach. ¡°Miiiister, foooood..¡± moaned Sol with emaciated cheeks. I¡¯d been so caught up in my research, I¡¯d even forgotten to feed the new recruits! Unforgivable! Shia sighed mournfully as I set her aside for a moment, and I couldn¡¯t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Children love to receive attention from their parents, and apparently reading Shia was as close as playing with her as I could get. She seemed to derive an inordinate amount of pride and pleasure from the simple ritual, as she constantly lit up the words as I silently mouthed them, turned the pages for me and even zoomed in on graphs and added small explanatory notes under charts I had trouble understanding. Truth to tell, I could feel myself enjoying the ritual as well, more than I cared to admit. I could practically feel the devotion that radiated from Shia every time she added a tiny heart next to a ¡°Well done!¡± scrawl whenever I finished a particularly difficult portion, or whenever she completely reorganized the structure of a certain paragraph when I had trouble grasping the concept immediately. ¡°We will continue in a little bit, Shia,¡± I comforted her, but she just sighed again. Children. I heard a rumbling sound from behind my back, and with a start I realized that the warm, soft feeling behind my back was that of Reaver, who had curled up next to me while I had been preoccupied with the book. From the depth of the shadows around us, more time than I¡¯d thought must have passed while I studied. The sound came again, a deep growling from his stomach, and Reaver switched looks between me and the firewood merrily burning in front of us accusingly. ¡°Fine, fine, you mutt. You did well and you deserve your wages. Sol, I know you¡¯re hungry too. Don¡¯t worry, I will prepare you a feast worthy of kings!¡± I promised, spreading my hands in a grand gesture. One of the skills I¡¯d picked up on the way had been the cooking skill ¡°Imperial Cuisine¡±. Most dishes looked much too elaborate for me to even fully grasp, let alone prepare, but the beginning recipes looked simple enough. Although most meals called for a dismaying amount of high quality, and thusly proportionately highly priced ingredients, I¡¯d been in the army for a long time. You pick up a thing or two about replacing this with that when you¡¯re under a budget, and under a deadline, to boot. ¡°Sol, bring me that bag with the foodstuffs. Yeah, that one,¡± I indicated, while I reached into one of the other bags and pulled out a pan and a couple other utensils. Accepting the bag, I pulled out a few ingredients I recognized and promptly began to slice and dice, peel and chop, stir and saute, and within moments the succulent smells of a meal ready to eat was wafting through the air. *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! Your Imperial Cooking skill has reached rank F level 2!
    *TTIRING*
    You have successfully created a dish using your skill: ¡°Imperial Cooking!¡±
    Skill Name:Skill Rank:Skill Level:Skill Experience:
    Imperial CookingF21%
    You have used your knowledge of ¡°Imperial Cooking¡± to create a new dish that has been dead for over a millenia! You gain bonus skill points and the resulting dish may have special effects as well. You may also name your creation.
    Reaver and Sol stood vacant-eyed in front of the fire, mesmerized by the smells wafting from the pot, drool steadily dripping down their chins. I had to admit the smell was incredible, and I was feeling a little hungry myself. I dipped a spoon into my very first creation and gave it one final tasting. A wild burst of flavors exploded in my mouth and I closed my eyes in appreciation. Hmm. Yes, this was it. *TTIRING*
    You are now under the effects of ¡°Unnamed Dish¡±
    A humble dish made with travel staples, it travels well and keeps even better. It grants a bonus to max stamina and also increases stamina regeneration rates for 2 hours.
    Max Stamina:+2
    Stamina Regen Rate:+10%
    ¡°Not bad at all for my first attempt!¡± I exclaimed, extremely pleased with the results. ¡°I¡¯ll call it Salted beef and potato stew! Here, have some you two.¡± I promptly ladled some into dishes and served them to Sol and Reaver, who fell upon it like a pack of ravenous beasts. The only problem was that they didn¡¯t get up afterwards. *BLEEP*
    Alert! Party members are currently affected by the status effect: Stunned
    For the duration of the effect, anyone affected by the status effect: Stunned will be unable to perform any actions
    Duration:10 seconds
    ¡°Guys?¡± ¡°Guuuuu¡­¡± Sol looked at me with tears streaming from his eyes as his face conveyed an expression of utter disgust seldom found upon the face of this planet. His mouth stood frozen in the act of chewing on the stew, and somehow I could tell that even though he desperately wanted to spit it out, his body seemed incapable of any movement for the time being. ¡°Huh? That¡¯s strange. Did it have some other special effects?¡± I wondered out loud. I heard a mewling sound to my left and turned my head to find Reaver sprawled on the ground as well, half of his bowl gone already into his enormous maw. His eyes were completely vacant and was that foam coming out of his mouth? ¡°Guys, what¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Shia is so glad Shia doesn¡¯t have to eat people food,¡± mumbled a half-relieved, half-horrified voice from inside my pocket. ¡°Quiet you!¡± I muttered, and set about reviving both Sol and Reaver. With plenty of water and after the initial shock passed, both Sol and Reaver nodded to one another, and Reaver frantically dug a hole while Sol reached into the fire to grab the steaming pot and threw it in. Reaver immediately covered it, then turned around to pee on it to boot. I stared in bewilderment, still chewing on my portion of the stew. It really didn¡¯t taste that bad. I said as much. ¡°Mister.. so scary..¡± mumbled Sol while hugging himself and rocking back and forth, suppressing a shudder. I shifted my gaze to Reaver, who cringed away with his tail between his legs. ¡°Really, it isn¡¯t so bad,¡± I noted, holding my spoon out. That was enough. Sol and Reaver both bolted upright and cowered away from me. ¡°Mister, please don¡¯t do this. I¡¯ll do anything..¡± Reaver bared his fangs and looked desperately for a way out. ¡°Bah. Fine, you can have the hard travel biscuits we brought as emergency rations,¡± I muttered darkly. Both Sol and Reaver practically dove for the packs with grateful expressions on their faces. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. It tastes fine to me,¡± I muttered. ¡°Mommy, did you do a lot of cooking before?¡± came Shia¡¯s tentative query. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ve been specifically asked by entire platoon commanders to feed all their troops. Only for very special occasions, I was told,¡± I explained, puffing out my chest. ¡°Umm, did the commander people eat the food too?¡± Shia asked pointedly. I scowled as I recalled that everyone in the chain of command, from the captains to every single sargeant had always found a reason to politely refuse the honor and rush off at top speed, leaving a dead, hollow silence within the mess hall as pale-faced soldiers sat in various states of panic or despair. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± I repeated darkly, chewing while spreading Shia¡¯s pages in my other hand and settling in for another cramming session. *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! You have earned a new trait: Calamity Cook!
    "Trait information: ''Calamity Cook.''" I muttered in spite of myself.
    Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
    Calamity CookF199%
    Ancient prophecy tells of the end of days when the signs would herald the advent of the Destroyer of Souls, the Harbinger of Doom, the Right Hand of Chaos himself: The Calamity Cook! Let all your foes reel in abject surrender, and all your allies collapse in utter despair - your dishes have the power to bring them all to their knees and putrefy their very souls. Effectiveness of intimidation or fear effects inflicted on others increased +200% Effects of food made more potent with unpredictable effects. Resistance to poison +20% Leadership +20% Charisma -1 Dread +5
    ¡°Not that b.. Dammit,¡± I snapped, shaking my head. I¡¯m a former soldier turned scholar, not a damn cook. So sue me. Besides, it really did taste just fine. A little more salt, perhaps? I continued to chew while humming to myself. I would need the energy come dawn. We would be entering our very first dungeon, the entrance to which lay hidden somewhere among these old ruins. Time for the old soldier to kick some ass sans the world-breakingly dismal cooking. Bah! Chapter 17 - The Betterment of Man Chapter 17 - The Betterment of Man ¡°One more time,¡± I instructed, arms crossed in front of my chest as I watched Sol struggle to lift his oversized sword, Malky, with shaking arms. ¡°Arg..¡± Sol grunted with the effort as he drew the blade level with his body, then twisted from the waist to spin the blade with a great SWOOSH as it cleaved through the air at chest level in a deadly horizontal arc. Reaver, who had been sitting back on his haunches next to me, barked a couple times encouragingly, but I put a stop to that with a smart rap of my knuckle on top of his thick skull. ¡°Quiet, you. Sol, that was all wrong. I told you it all begins with footwork. You¡¯re putting too much of your back into it. Not only does that leave you unbalanced and unable react if you miss, but it places too much stress on your upper body. It won¡¯t do you any good in an extended fight,¡± I admonished gravely. Sol nodded while leaning his forehead on Malky¡¯s blade, his breath coming in ragged gasps. ¡°G.. got it, mister. Sorry..¡± he began. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re sorry then do better next time. Now, do it properly and no excuses this time!¡± I roared back. Sol flinched slightly and had to bite down on his trembling lips to hold back a sob, but instead of collapsing he nodded determinedly as he visibly struggled to regain command over his exhausted body. I grunted in approval. This kid had guts, and where others would have quit or started complaining, he had taken to my training with quiet resolve. If he kept this up, I could really make an incredible fighter out of this kid. Of course, that¡¯s not what I¡¯d thought at first. After dinner, I had finally asked Sol to draw Malky and show me what he could do with it. After looking at his incredible stats, I had harbored very high hopes indeed. Those expectations had only soared higher still as I heard Sol explain that he had religiously devoted at least four hours every day to practicing swordsmanship with Malky. So, I sat back to enjoy the show and readied myself for quite the treat. Instead, I had come to the edge of despair as I watched him clumsily bumble about with that nearly five foot length of steel as though he were trying to swat down a pinata with a fat leg of ham. ¡°Stop! Stop! What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡± I called out in alarm, genuinely concerned that he might actually hurt himself. Sol flinched but obeyed instantly as he skidded to a halt and turned to face me, skin already turning a deep red with his exertions. Yeah, throwing that kind of mass around for a few hours day in and day out would certainly explain his ridiculous stats. However, it was terribly clumsy and would prove utterly useless in actual combat. I explained as much to him, going into detail as to the reasons. I figured if I was to have any hope of making a warrior out of this little street hellion, I would have to demolish every useless misconception he¡¯d developed and start from the very bottom. ¡°Your stance is all wrong; your feet are going one way while your body¡¯s moving the other; your arms are just flailing blindly about and getting in your way; your back is slouching over whenever you swing out your blade; the grip is all kinds of wrong..¡± On and on, until Sol had been on the verge of tears. Damn, I felt a little guilty, but I ruthlessly pushed down any useless remnants of sentimentality. They could only do harm here. Still.. ¡°Listen Sol, you are a disaster. A complete, utter disaster with that thing in your hands.¡± ¡°Malky,¡± mumbled Sol with a trembling voice. ¡°Yeah, Malky. What good did it do you or Reaver while you were being captured and being led towards the slavers¡¯ block?¡± Sol¡¯s hands tightened on Malky¡¯s pommel until his knuckles were white, but he didn¡¯t say a word. He couldn¡¯t, and I knew it. ¡°A sword is a tool,¡± I began, and held a hand out to silence the immediate protest. ¡°No, hear me out. Malky there is only going to be as good as the hands that wield it. Right now, you couldn¡¯t even stand up to a tiny rabbit, let alone a group of Tarik¡¯s men.¡± ¡°Look at Reaver here. He was ready to die for you. He almost did, as a matter of fact,¡± I pointed out as I rapped another knuckle against Reaver¡¯s head when the mutt tried to interrupt as well. Can dogs really throw sullen looks at you? No matter, damn mutt. ¡°In exchange, you only served to become a hostage and a liability to your best friend. Is that really all you can amount to?¡± I was being rough and unfair to the kid, and I knew it. However, I also knew that I needed to kindle a fire inside of him, and that fire could only be started from the inside. Sol had been kicked away and spat down upon for too long from the lowest scum in the streets. It only stood to reason that his drive and self-esteem had taken a likewise downward dive. I knew the kid was much better than that, however. He truly had potential, but first I needed to clean off all the rust. I needed Sol to find that passion once more, that hunger that reaches from way down your chest, past your heart and from your belly. You have to want it, REALLY want it. It goes beyond logic and reason, past feelings and emotions. It has to be instinctive, a feral urge to claw your way out of the pile of refuse you¡¯ve been condemned to for your entire life. Now, there may be those who opine that the best motivator is love, and positive encouragement does work wonders towards the long-term. However, I will openly admit that I¡¯m not the best at that strange emotion called love. I¡¯ve brushed up against it a couple times in my life, and both times I¡¯ve been burned worse than any battle injuries I¡¯ve sustained in my career. That¡¯s quite a collection of battle scars we¡¯re speaking of. So, while I¡¯m decidedly not the best, or even barely competent at that sort of approach, I was one of the best with this approach - via blunt force trauma. I¡¯ve done it countless times before. Take in kids straight out of their parents¡¯ warm and loving bossom, into a mind-numbing, bone-jarring nightmare ride deep into the very gateways of hell. Welcome to boot camp. It was working, too. Sol quickly came to terms with the fact that as he was now, he was nothing more than a liability in a fight. If Sol had decided to use a normal weapon, such as a dagger or a short sword, which would be far more appropriate for his current height and build, his surprising strength and speed could have compensated for his inexperience. However, Malky was just as ruthless and uncompromising a battle companion as I was. The huge blade was almost five feet long and nearly a foot wide. Just swinging that kind of ridiculous mass around is a feat all in of itself. However, just because you can move the blade about it doesn¡¯t mean your targets will obligingly wait for you to complete your windup and execute your telegraphed move. Sure, if it hit I¡¯m sure it would wreak all kinds of havoc. However, it never would. I hadn¡¯t been kidding when I mentioned the rabbit. I could lock Sol in with a rabbit in Zephyr¡¯s humble hut and I could wait all day and all night without him being able to nail the poor thing even once. In other words, Malky was just too much of a handicap for someone of Sol¡¯s limited reach, strength, endurance, and most of all, experience. So, why didn¡¯t I just snatch it away and give Sol another weapon? Partly because I¡¯d seen the manic devotion Sol had to this Malky. If I just took it away, it would simply be yet another defeat in a long string of such. Instead, I planned to use those feelings to give him a sense of accomplishment. A long sought victory, all the sweeter for the desperate want for it. Besides, I¡¯m a man, and we do like our toys. I had to admit I couldn¡¯t wait to see the kind of destruction Sol would visit upon his hapless victims when he managed to fully master that instrument of death and mayhem, otherwise known as ¡®Malky¡¯. Thus, I had sat off to one side while drilling Sol mercilessly on basic swings and cuts when I¡¯d noticed something strange. Sol was indeed doing his best to carry out my instructions, but the improvement was negligible. That was not to say he did not show any progress. His attacks showed more forethought and deliberation, and all my merciless pounding on stopping those god-awful thrusts that were so telegraphed the enemy would have to be blind not to sidestep were finally bearing fruit. However, after an hour or so, I could see that Sol himself was also getting frustrated. I decided to call a stop to it before my training could have adverse effects. This damn world was just conspiring against me at every single turn. I began to have some inkling of what the problem was. I was no swordsman. I was, in fact, as far as you could get from your typical warrior. I was a scholar. My weapons were my books and the quill. I had thus far proven that I could obtain an incredible amount of experience and skills using my scholarly research. However, a martial arts instructor, I was not. Even when I did my best to explain those basic techniques to Sol, it simply did not seem to register correctly, and it showed in the results. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Frustrated, I decided to forget about any complex maneuvers or stances, and instead focused down on two of the most practical and simple concepts I could impart: Maintaining proper balance at all times, and properly employing momentum. This meant footwork for the former, and discipline for the latter. With a sword that had as huge a mass as Malky, even if you properly exploited an opening in your opponent¡¯s guard, you would be leaving yourself wide open to a riposte, or even worse, a counter-thrust exploiting the natural fact that it takes far longer for a 5-foot blade than a 3-foot toothpick to traverse the same space. Thus, you had to be ready to react on the defensive at every turn, and if possible, to change direction of your swing in mid-motion. All of that required exquisite balance, and that came mainly from impeccable footwork. As for momentum, it was self-explanatory. A chunk of steel weighing as much as Malky did would completely obliterate anything it hit, so long as it did hit. However, in order to deliver a blow with the proper amount of speed and power behind it, the wielder had to learn to manipulate the sword¡¯s momentum so that it worked for him instead of against him. This was a concept that was deceptively simple yet incredibly difficult to master, as it often ran counter to a person¡¯s natural instincts. This is why it is said that master swordsmen wield their weapons as though they were extensions of their own body. All that meant was that they knew how to manipulate their blades and their momentum to optimal effect. Two hours later, Sol was finally beginning to grasp both concepts so I decided to call it for tonight. We had an early dawn appointment, and if my suspicions were correct, by the end of our little expedition we might be able to drastically improve our little party¡¯s combat potential, so no need to be too ambitious for now. Meanwhile, I called Reaver back. The poor mutt was also moving on shaky legs. I had been drilling it as well, since I knew very well that it was as smart - or smarter - than most humans I¡¯ve had the distinct displeasure to meet. ¡°Good boy, Reaver. Remember those basic commands and we will be golden,¡± I congratulated Reaver. I had been far more impressed with Reaver¡¯s performance, but it stood to reason as most of Reaver¡¯s skills were borne out of instinct, and this was one hungry bastard. Still, no reason to punish just Sol. I needed them together through this ordeal. So I had Reaver running up and down the field in different maneuvers and reacting to different commands. ¡°So.. Mister, does that mean that we don¡¯t have to..¡± came Sol¡¯s hesitant voice. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s fine,¡± I answered with a wolfish grin that showed all my teeth glinting under the moonlight. ¡°No more cooking for tonight, more¡¯s the pity. I had a succulent dish in mind that I¡¯d been so eager to try out, too.¡± Both Sol and Reaver collapsed against each other in a heap, bearing twin expressions of relief. ¡°Scary..¡± came Sol¡¯s whisper, to which Reaver simply cringed and burrowed his nuzzle against his master¡¯s chest. I clapped both hands in front of my chest and called out enthusiastically, ¡°Don¡¯t worry guys, there¡¯s still plenty of opportunities to taste some more of my Imperial Cooking down the road. I need to improve my skills if I want to unlock the secret skills of the Umeji, so it¡¯s a win-win!¡± I pointedly decided to ignore their choking cries as abject horror flooded into their faces. ¡°Get some sleep. We have an early day tomorrow. We will be exploring the ruins of the Arakian Monastery!¡± Sol¡¯s ears perked up at the name. ¡°I¡¯ve heard of that name before, Mister. Arakian monks were crazies who fought like sand-possessed devils.¡± I nodded to Sol. ¡°Yep, and we¡¯ll be paying them a nice friendly visit.¡± Sol frowned as he chewed on his lip. ¡°I thought the Arakians were all killed a long, long time ago.¡± ¡°That is also correct,¡± I gleefully agreed. ¡°Which is the whole point of visiting them now.¡± ¡°But.. how are we going to talk to them?¡± ¡°You leave that to me,¡± I answered, eagerly flexing my knuckles. ¡°I¡¯m somewhat of an expert at that.¡± Sol stared at me dumbfounded. ¡°You¡¯re a necromancer? So scary!¡± he cried out, backing away slowly while hugging Reaver tightly to his chest. ¡°No, you silly, I¡¯m a historian!¡± I explained, tapping my own chest. ¡°You mean you write books about stuff that happened a long time ago or the kind that sucks people¡¯s souls to twist them for their own terribly evil purposes?¡± came Sol¡¯s hesitant question. ¡°I.. well,¡± I stumbled, taken aback by the question. I did sound like more of an evil necromancer than anything when you put it like that. ¡°I suppose I do kind of dabble in the latter, but I¡¯m officially one of the former..¡± I added lamely. ¡°Hahah, just kidding Mister. Shia, did you watch his expression?¡± Sol called out, choking with laughter. ¡°Shia sure did. Mommy is so silly,¡± came the bubbling voice from inside my pocket. Even the damn dog was laughing at me, tears rolling from both his blue eye, and from under the patch that concealed his other eye, the one supposedly blazing a deep crimson. ¡°Wait a second, was all of this a setup?¡± I bit off while narrowing my own eyes. ¡°Yep, Shia told Sol that mommy would bring up the Monastery eventually,¡± came my daughter¡¯s tinkling voice. ¡°And Shia taught me what to say. Boy, you should have seen your own face Mister. You looked like you¡¯d swallowed a bug!¡± croaked Sol, rolling on the ground while holding his belly. ¡°Why you.. and you, Shia. No more reading for tonight! Go to bed!¡± ¡°Aww.. but you promised! And it¡¯s not like Shia has a bed, all Shia gets is a tiny pocket that stinks of sweat and..¡± ¡°Not another word from you, young lady, for I¡¯ll ground you for..¡± I caught myself as I realized how ludicrous the situation had become. I looked at Sol and Reaver, who were still rolling on the ground together, barely able to catch a breath before bursting with a fresh chorus of laughter. Then I turned to look at the book I held in my pocket, still shaking slightly as it too joined in. Then I burst out laughing as well, unable to contain myself any longer. It was a good, hearty laugh that sounded so alien to my ears that it took me a moment to realize I hadn¡¯t made the sound in a very, very long time. I simply hadn¡¯t had anything worth laughing, or even smiling about. My life had come crashing down around me in burning debris and it had been all I could do to simply stay alive. I was momentarily rocked back on my heels as I realized just how much I had changed in just the past week alone. I had gone from swearing bitter vengeance against the whole world and the powers that ruled it with an iron fist, no matter the cost, to sharing a sincere laugh with people I genuinely cared about. That¡¯s right. These were people. I wasn¡¯t sure about Reaver or Shia, but Sol was definitely a person. Though there were certainly many NPCs in Aeterna who were simply being powered by an AI fed off a human¡¯s neural feedback, many more were true humans, non-coms who had been plugged into the system with their memories wiped clean and let loose to seek their fates in Aeterna. It mean those thugs I¡¯d so casually slain and whose souls I¡¯d devoured might very well be people, after all. What was the difference between them and Sol, Shia, or Reaver? True, they¡¯d each made their own choice, but how much of that was determined by the AI that oversaw this entire realm? Had Sol chosen to become an orphan child lost and abandoned in the middle of a wasteland? Would Reaver still be Reaver if given a choice from the beginning? Had Shia truly wanted to be reborn as a book whose only function was to be wholly devoted to its wielder? Were they people, or just a complex set of subroutines and algorithms mimicking human interaction so flawlessly the experience was truly seamless? When does a character stop being a mere facade and become a human being? Then again, if even someone like me, who could not rightly be called a human being due to the sheer weight of the sins piled upon his past, could find a momentary reprieve, some solace within this new realm, who was I to question it? The ironic thing is that out of all the people present here - the infant book-child, the clumsy war-child, and the walking, drooling fleabag - I was likely the one in most dire need of becoming a better person. ¡°The betterment of man demands no reasons, only motives,¡± I recalled my grandfather saying to me once. I hadn¡¯t really understood what he meant back then, but now my mind bit down on those words and refused to let go. ¡°Mommy, are you alright?¡± came Shia¡¯s hesitant voice. Shaking my head slowly, I dug down deep and found that I did indeed have a smile left in the scorched remains of my desolate heart for the one who was becoming more and more like the precious daughter I never had. ¡°I think I am now,¡± I whispered back, and decided that I truly needed no reasons, simply the motive. Chapter 18 - Ambush Chapter 18 - Ambush Author''s Notes: I apologize for the slow update. Dealing with a lot of stuff atm. Hope you enjoy the chapter! Just as a fair warning, the fighting gets bloodier and more graphic as the story progresses. Dust bellowed out in a thick cloud as the bricks in a decaying column finally gave in to the ravages of time, tumbling down with a resounding crash, nearly burying Sol and Reaver under their bulk for good measure as the pair barely managed to dive away at the last second. ¡°Ack! Mister, I don¡¯t feel safe in here..¡± muttered Sol while getting to his feet on unsteady legs. Reaver snuffled loudly as he violently shook his body free of dust. ¡°No choice, this is where the hunter who gave me this found it,¡± I responded absently while peering into the passage ahead and gripping an intricately carved hexagonal ring tighter in my fist. I would have said the hallway ahead was dark, but thanks to Shia¡¯s light augmentation and image projection trick, I could see through the gloom almost as though it were broad daylight. Shia could project an incredibly detailed if somewhat grainy three dimensional image that replaced the otherwise impenetrable darkness inside the ruins. It even produced its own eerie light, pulsing slightly from time to time as I felt Shia shudder from within my pocket. ¡°Mommy, this place is creepy,¡± she complained for what seemed the upteenth time. ¡°And it stinks of mold!¡± Shia seemed to hold a particular breed of loathing for mold. I suppose it was only logical, since mold and mildew have probably ruined more precious texts and tomes since time immemorial than can be tallied to all other factors combined. Still, this was not the time to indulge in such prejudices. ¡°Shh,¡± I admonished in a fierce whisper. ¡°We should be close, I can feel it. Don¡¯t let your guard down though. Those bastards are still on our trail.¡± Reaver let out a low rumbling growl, the fur behind his neck slowly standing upright at the mention of our would-be ambushers. In truth, if it hadn¡¯t been for Reaver¡¯s timely intervention, we would have been caught completely flat-footed. I¡¯d known that Tarik and his men were vicious and vengeful, but I hadn¡¯t given their dogged perseverance enough credit. After last night¡¯s little episode when I had been jokingly branded as a malevolent necromancer by my companions, I had finally given in to Shia¡¯s endearing protestations and had gracefully deigned to pick her back up and resume my research on the Trance of Transcendence. Of course, the word research doesn¡¯t begin to describe the experience. It is nothing as cut and dry as that. Instead, it is a wholly organic experience in which I could constantly feel the limits of my intellect being tested by wonderfully complex concepts and ideas. They would convulse and grope about wildly, seeking to take root and flower within the inner recesses of my mind. I quickly found myself gaining more and more familiarity with the research subject until I reached a point where I could not for the life of me imagine why I hadn¡¯t been able to grasp such a simple concept in the first place. That was not all. Rather, it was a mere beginning. Such moments of sudden clarity and insight were mere plateaus that widened the horizon by that much more. Though momentarily dazed by the intoxicating knowledge flooding my brain to bursting, in the distance I could see the next peaks, looming just beyond reach. They beckoned with a teasing wink, promising ever grander sights and breathtaking new heights. It was like the most potent drug I had ever heard of, and I reveled in it. It was no wonder then, that the damn mutt had to actually bite me in the hand hard enough to draw blood to get me to finally snap out of my trance-like state of concentration. *** ¡°What the HELL!¡± I screamed, instinctively reaching for the knife I kept by my side while scowling fiercely at Reaver. After a moment, however, I was able to detect that something was amiss. Reaver¡¯s usual playful mood was gone, and an air of deadly earnestness had settled over the Kha¡¯zik pup like a wolf that had finally shed its sheepskin and was ready to go on a rampage. ¡°Reaver, what¡¯s going on?¡± I asked, sudden alarm entering my tone. Reaver growled deep in his throat and sniffed the ground to the west of us, towards the trail we had taken to arrive to this secluded location within the ruins. He didn¡¯t make any other sounds, but there could be no doubt as to his meaning. We had visitors inbound, and judging by Reaver¡¯s reaction, he recognized their scent. That was damn impressive, considering the fact that I had carefully picked a campsite with a good radius of observation to the area around us. I squinted in the direction of the path we¡¯d taken earlier, and since I couldn¡¯t distinguish any source of light, they were either traveling blind or still a great distance away. I wasn¡¯t sure if this was a heightened sense of smell or an instinctive feel for danger, but maybe that was one of the gifts of the Kha¡¯zik. Regardless, I wouldn¡¯t waste the precious time I had been granted. Glancing towards the bedroll where I¡¯d last seen Sol, I was gratified to see that he was already shaking the sleep from his eyes and coming to his feet. Something about the air of urgency in Reaver must have tipped him off. Not for the first time, I wondered at the bond these two seemed to share. I could have sworn nothing short of a massive cataclysm would manage to rouse Sol once he was fast asleep, but this time he had awoken in an instant without so much as a sound. Then again, I had more urgent considerations for the time being. ¡°Alright, we have an unnamed number of intruders approaching, and judging by Reaver¡¯s reaction, it¡¯s a safe bet we¡¯re up against more of Tarik¡¯s scum,¡± I called out in a low, steady voice, while running through various scenarios in my mind with practiced efficiency. ¡°Here¡¯s the plan.¡± I laid out a brief overview of the plan, then gave Sol and Reaver specific instructions for their own specific tasks as suited to their abilities and judgment. After they hurried away to carry out my orders, I set about making my own preparations. I decided to put the ¡°Animal Trapping¡± skill to good use. Though mainly used to loot animals and collect useful goods from their carcasses, it could also be used to set up traps that could disable or even kill unwary prey. Upon learning it yesterday, I had painstakingly reviewed the novice level traps and had thoroughly memorized the procedure for making the most straight-forward versions of snare, deadfall and pit traps, as suited to my current abilities (or lack-thereof) and available tools and supplies. Though crude by the admittedly stringent standards of the Federation Special Forces advanced outdoor survival and stealth operations training, I found that the same basic principles seemed to apply to these familiar concepts within Aeterna, so long as I had the basic knowledge to build upon. Thus, I was able to master the process of deploying simple yet effective traps with relative ease. Though I had neglected to prepare all the supplies I would need for a protracted defense, I was packing enough heat that I¡¯d give hell to any unwary assailants. The process of turning our campground into a deathtrap was made even faster than I¡¯d expected, thanks to Shia¡¯s assistance. Without being prompted, she pulled up a detailed map of the surrounding area, complete with Shia¡¯s own annotations, with every possible minutiae starting with from points of entry and retreat - rated by accessibility, no less - to optimal placement for ambushes and traps given the topography of the area and the layout of the crumbling buildings around us. I had to grin grimly at that. While I appreciated the enthusiasm, my daughter was still a little green at the business of killing. As for her old man, I had turned the process of systematically disabling and sanitizing hostile targets into an artform all its own. Those were the words of my former army colleagues, not mine - and those were some stone cold killers we¡¯re talking about right there. Thus, I went about my task with quiet efficiency. Shia hummed appreciatively as she began to appreciate the finer points of leading unfriendly people to their ignominious deaths. I noted that as I made my way around the ruins, Shia constantly revised her own strategies to more closely mirror my own. As a matter of fact, towards the end of our little parent-child excursion Shia had placed the very last trap at the exact spot where I had planned to lay mine. I must admit a swelling sense of pride warred momentarily with an odd feeling of uneasiness at how readily my foster daughter was absorbing the talents for eliminating as many people in as thorough and effective a manner as possible. For instance, Shia¡¯s notes initially recommended that I place a deadfall trap at a chokepoint near the outer perimeter. True enough, the crumbling pillars would have a satisfyingly high chance of wounding or perhaps even killing any individual who triggered the tripwire and brought down their massive weight upon himself. However, a deadfall trap usually required an inordinate amount of work, which would be reduced to nothing if the triggering mechanism was discovered before it went off. Even if it did go off, alert individuals would stand a fair chance of scrambling out of the way. Now, where¡¯s the fun in that? Enter my approach. I watched from a concealed ledge, safely tucked into its shadows, as a group of men finally rounded a corner and entered my field of vision. I found my hand stroking the hilt of the sword I bore by my side as I studied the new arrivals. Rough and scruffy around the edges, some of these men were most definitely of Tarik¡¯s bunch. I could tell that right away from the obvious reluctance with which they stepped forward. They obviously hadn¡¯t planned for such a long trip, and though whatever reward or threat Tarik had offered could compel their presence here, they didn¡¯t have to be happy about it. Ten men. I raised an eyebrow as I quickly took stock of the current situation. I hadn¡¯t planned for quite so many hired thugs to be stuck on my trail. Though one or two seemed to be wearing the same disheveled uniform I¡¯d seen some of Tarik¡¯s cronies wearing, most seemed to be simple street scum, likely hired for this one job. Even so, he must either have offered a much more substantial reward than I could possibly merit in my current situation, or there was a deeper game afoot here. As I continued my examination, I squinted, then nodded as my hand moved of its own volition to wrap my fingers tightly around the symbol carved into the hilt of the sword I held. It was the sword I had looted from the bravo leader who had almost split my head in two back at the alley, Jaskel. Like his blade, he had been a far deadlier threat than the other scum I had disposed of that day. It had been a desperate, losing battle for survival, and it had only been through a fortunate set of circumstances that had allowed me to survive that fight. A feral grin lit up my face as I saw another sword, nearly identical to the one I was holding, hanging from the belt of one of the men approaching. Was there another group or entity entering the picture now? Perhaps some mercenary band or similar guild, loosely affiliated with the shadier side of Tarik¡¯s business? That would explain the little note that I¡¯d found on Jaskel. If that were true, things would become far more complicated than they already were, but there was also an opportunity to be had here. Not to mention a better fight, as well. This man was certainly cut from a different cloth from the low rent thugs in the group. Striding confidently, he drove the rest of the men forward as though he were repelling them by sheer presence alone. His eyes were sharp and alert, his hand expertly gripping the hilt of his sword as he steadily drew closer. They were still moving cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible as they closed the distance to their prey. Only this time, the hunter would become the hunted instead. For that, of course, I would have to alter the parameters of the fight. Let it never be said that I fight fairly if I can help it. I¡¯m too damn practical to give a crap about useless notions such as honor or chivalry. I raised my free hand slightly, then made a fist while I judged the distance. Immediately, the sharp sound of nails striking stone came from within my hiding place.. ¡°What was that?¡± hissed one of the men, drawing his weapon. ¡°Just a rat,¡± came the response from one of his companions, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ¡°Relax, you¡¯re only going to alert the bastards we¡¯re after.¡± ¡°That wouldn¡¯t do at all. Gonna take my sweet time with them for making us chase them all the way here,¡± another added, venom dripping from his voice. ¡°Remember, we kill the beast first. Take no chances, they managed to take down Jaskel,¡± their leader, the man at the back called out in a harsh tone. ¡°Gotta be a fluke, but beast¡¯s the only one who coulda dunnit,¡± agreed another voice. ¡°Dunno, I heard Jaskel¡¯s chest was slit in two real nice, just like a slab of meat. Haven¡¯t heard of no dog that can do that,¡± muttered the first one, reluctantly returning his blade to its sheath. ¡°You believe that? Hah! Probably the town watch trying to mess with you. They wouldn¡¯t even let us inspect the corps..¡± The other man¡¯s voice trailed off as he wordlessly pointed behind my location. ¡°Hey, there! It¡¯s the beast!¡± I didn¡¯t need to turn to know that Reaver would be leisurely walking out of a crack in a nearby wall, his nose to the ground as he followed a scent. The men watched in bewilderment while Reaver drew a few steps closer before raising his head and glaring at the men. He lowered his stance and displayed his prodigious fangs to good effect, barking loudly. As if that was all it took to break the spell, all the men drew their weapons as one and rushed toward Reaver - and by the same token, towards me and my hiding spot. ¡°Catch it before it can run and warn the others!¡± snarled one of the men, echoing out loud their collective thoughts. I barely managed to suppress a smirk. Fools.I carefully stayed as still as possible while Shia continued to project a truly lifelike image of Reaver onto the ground level below the ledge I was hiding in. Though it was slightly grainy in quality, every move and gesture was recorded just as it had looked when I had asked Reaver to play out this scene earlier. From this distance and under these lighting conditions, they would not realize the difference until they drew within melee distance. Not that they would get the opportunity. As I continued watching, Reaver kept snarling menacingly while slowly backing towards the crack in the dilapidated wall he had first appeared from. Then he lifted his head for one last howl to the sky, turned around and slowly shuffled into the small gap. ¡°Damn it, get it before it can escape!¡± The men chasing Reaver cursed loudly and renewed their efforts. Perfect. See, for any good trap, first you need bait. The more succulent the bait, the bigger the prey. I meant to take quite the bloody chunk off this juicy morsel of meat. The first hint that something was terribly wrong came when one of the men finally reached the crack Reaver had apparently dashed into. The snare trap I¡¯d laid under it went off right on cue, and the barbed noose instantly tightened on the unfortunate man¡¯s leg, then snatched him off his feet and yanked him forward before he even had time to scream as the weight of the boulder I¡¯d tied the other end of the rope to jammed his body against the tiny opening, and quite literally ripped his leg off just below the knee.. The man finally let out a terrified shriek as he rolled on the ground clamping both hands around the stump where his foot had once been, writing in agony and spurting blood everywhere. The rest of the men immediately drew a semicircle around the prone man, staring down with equal measures of shock and horror written all over their ashen expressions. Which was all well and good, since that meant none of them saw the second trap that had been triggered simultaneously with the first one. The screams of the fallen man drowned out the sounds in the beginning, for which I was tempted to give my thanks for, then settled for a mental shrug as I realized he wasn¡¯t in any shape to be appreciating the gesture. As the rumbling sound overhead steadily grew louder, however, the leader abruptly pulled up short, frowning at the passageway stretching out beyond the fallen man. His eyes traveled to the sides of the crumbling pillars around him, and up towards the collapsing archway above, which just meant a shitload of rocks were about to hit their fan. ¡°Watch out!¡± He roared, and even managed to pull a couple men back by force. The rest were buried under a couple tons of falling debris as the pillars gave out and the ceiling of the arch they were under collapsed on their heads. Shia had identified this archway as a major hazard due to how deteriorated it was. It had only been a matter of helping the process along. The results were rather spectacular. The gruesome sounds of crushed bones and torn flesh brought to mind scenes of helpless men being pounded into a bloody pulp by the mindless fists of a gigantic rock demon. *TTIRING*
    You have gained 600 xp!
    *TTIRING*
    Congratulations, you have reached level 4!
    *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! You have earned a new trait: ¡°Artificer of Death¡±!
    *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! You have earned a new achievement: ¡°Master Baiter¡±!
    I had to suppress a sigh. The experience points and level up were quite the treat, as was the new trait and achievement. However, the rest had gone roughly as I had expected. Though it was certainly quite the spectacle for the eyes and ears, relatively speaking casualties were on the light side. I counted as many as four men shakily coming to their feet, apparently with some light bleeding but otherwise unharmed by the falling rocks. That meant likely less than half a dozen men had gone under. This was the disadvantage of using deadfall traps of such small scale. The results were much too random to rely too heavily on them. In the end, the titanic rock demon had turned out to be a doddering fool, unable to swat down a few flies. Well, that was alright. My own conscience was as dark and hard as flint, and just in my manic grin alone there was demon enough to go around. Hell, more than enough to drown these poor fools in the inky depths of black despair. Matching words to actions, I didn¡¯t even wait for the terrible sounds of half a dozen men being crushed to death by an avalanche of rocks to fade away completely before yanking on yet another rope, which I¡¯d laid close at hand for just this moment. Just as the men who had escaped relatively unscathed were attempting to sift through the rocks to dig out the groaning survivors, a small barrel detached itself from a nearby ledge and seemed to hang ponderously in the air for a split second before falling in their midst. It shattered on the pile of rocks and spilled its contents all over the place. A strong smell instantly invaded my nostrils, and I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose as I watched the puzzled expressions of the men, who lifted their drenched garments to their own noses. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°What the hell?¡± came the puzzled question as the doomed men stared into each others¡¯ faces. Then, dawning horror as they finally understood. Lamp oil stinks like a bastard, but that¡¯s not the reason why every face went ashen as they realized what the liquid had been. The sudden stillness was so pregnant with expectant dread that even the tiny click when the preset catch up on the same ledge released its next payload was clearly distinguishable and drew everyone¡¯s rapt attention. Every set of eyes, including my own, followed the motion as a tiny clay jar from the same ledge followed the path of the barrel that had gone before it. They all stared, the poor bastards, when the jar hit the ground and shattered to pieces, along with the small hand lamp that had been inside. Of course, it was lit. Needless to say, it fell apart and the oil caught on fire with a great whoosh that roared like a ravenous beast as it spread its maw to swallow the men within its blaze whole. There wasn¡¯t even time for the two surviving men and their leader to try to save any the poor bastards, as the fire burned hungrily and clung viciously to the few survivors who had turned into human torches. They barely managed a few steps out of the inferno, screaming madly as they clawed at their own melting flesh, then they simply crumpled to the floor and writhed in agony. *TTIRING*
    Congratulations! Your trait: ¡°Artificer of Death¡± has gained a level!
    Ah, to enjoy the fruits of your own hard work was so very rewarding. Of course, I did not watch any of this with my own eyes. Instead, Shia had been projecting the whole scene in front of my eyes for me, up in the concealed ledge where I lay prone and safely out of sight. It wasn¡¯t out of any sense of squeamishness that I did this. Rather, I attributed it to me being far too practical and experienced to risk revealing myself to do my own surveillance work when I had my own holographic monitor close at hand, besides which there was no good reason I should lose my dark-accustomed sight and blind myself with the sudden explosion of light. Never one to waste a precious opportunity, I calmly arose from my hiding spot and took stock of the situation, being careful to avert my eyes from the center of the blaze. The bright glow from the fire had flooded every nook and cranny in the area with sudden light, and I could see another set of eyes gazing calmly from one of them. Good doggie. Evidently, they were the only set of eyes on me since the leader and his two followers were still staring dumbly into the scene of the carnage, almost as though they believed by staring just a little more intently they could put out the flames with their earnest wishes alone. Amateurs. Quietly drawing my new sword from its sheath, I firmly took hold of the hilt in a two-handed grip, then jumped off the ledge and swung my blade down with all the power and speed I could muster. That was all. No earthshaking warcry, no mighty shout of victory, nothing. Simply a craftsman quietly doing what he does best, is all. In my case, that meant killing people as quickly and efficiently as possible. *TTIRING*
    Special Attack: Overkill Success!
    By harnessing all your power and explosively focusing it in a single blow, you are able to deal tremendous damage at the sacrifice of greatly increased stamina expenditure and leaving yourself vulnerable to a counter-attack. Your surprise attack succeeds and deals critical damage!
    Critical Damage Dealt:260
    *TTIRING*
    You have gained 320 xp!
    Holy crap! I nearly lost grip on my sword as I saw the flashing red numbers that meant a critical hit had been struck flashing over the leader¡¯s head. My sword literally exploded through his neck, smashing through his spine and exiting via his ribcage, to strike the hard stone floor below with a resounding crash that left my hands numb. The two men flanking my victim shrank back reflexively, hands scrambling for their own weapons. That gave me enough time to recover my balance and casually examine the edge of my sword. ¡°Damn, this is a pretty good blade,¡± I muttered, half to myself. ¡°Not even a dent.¡± The surviving pair¡¯s eyes focused on the blade I held. They obviously recognized it, since their eyes widened considerably at the sight. Just as I had intended, of course. The two men stole a furtive glance towards one another, and their swords wavered slightly as they came up in a defensive posture. I had carefully positioned my landing point so that the fire blazed merrily behind me. I could feel the heat at my back but I also knew the fire directly behind me would make it very difficult to track my silhouette once the fight got going. ¡°Hey, you,¡± I called out to one of the men, who involuntarily flinched and took a shuffling step back. ¡°Wanna live or die? You get a ten count to decide. One. Two. Three.¡± ¡°Huh? Wha.. what?¡± the man blurted out, backing away further and raising his sword higher. ¡°Wrong answer. Bah, screw it. Ten,¡± I drawled out as I feinted towards his partner, who quickly scrambled back and away from me, which is exactly what I had intended. That gave me enough room to engage the first man without having to worry about getting a knife in my back for my troubles. ¡°Reaver, hamstring!¡± I called out, as I swiftly spun around, using the motion to swing my blade in a much wider circle than I would usually attempt. Such a telegraphed move would never hit home unless.. The first thug let out a throat-scraping scream as Reaver lunged out from his hiding place behind him and tore a bloody chunk off the man¡¯s leg with one vicious bite before retreating safely out of range of any potential counterattack. Such thoughts couldn¡¯t be farther from his victim¡¯s mind, however. Dropping his head reflexively to claw at his ruined flesh, the poor devil was still trying to comprehend what had just happened when his descending face met the edge of my sword as it drew a silvery arc in the air that splattered a fresh torrent of blood against a nearby wall. The impact was enough to reverse his momentum and twist his neck to one side while his body kept falling the other way. I completed my spin by flicking my blade up in front of me and reversing my grip on its hilt before unceremoniously plunging the tip deeply into the fallen man¡¯s neck as soon as his convulsing body hit the ground. No sense in taking chances. I could still remember the nightmare of the cheap zombie flick when my enemies had gotten up time and time again after receiving my attacks. That first fight upon arriving to Aeterna had been an unmitigated disaster. Now this here - this was more like it. Coldly looking up to meet the eyes of the last remaining survivor, I showed him my best hungry wolf grin. Damn if it didn¡¯t put Reaver¡¯s own to shame. ¡°Hey, lucky you, it¡¯s your turn,¡± I called out in a light, conversational tone, then deftly wrenched my blade sideways to snap his friend¡¯s spine with an audible crunching sound. The body at my feet twitched spastically a couple times, then finally went still. My eyes never even wavered as my grin grew even larger, if at all possible. ¡°Wanna live or die?¡± *** The man had made his decision, and with great enthusiasm, might I add. So much so, that I had to slap around him a couple times to remind him not to stumble all over his words as he rushed to spill the beans in answer to each of my questions. So, I found out there had originally been thirty five men in the group, but they set up a perimeter around the area, and the rest had split up as they drew closer to the ruins in order to cover more ground. That meant there were a whole lot of unfriendlies rapidly approaching my position, guided by the big ass beacon I¡¯d lit as a funeral pyre for their friends. ¡°This just doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± I muttered. ¡°Tell me, who are you working for?¡± My victim¡¯s face blanched and he opened and closed his mouth several times without a sound. His eyes gazed at me pleadingly while he whimpered helplessly. Interesting. I thoughtfully tapped the thug¡¯s forehead with one end of my sword. Of course, the pointy end. Tiny drops of blood started to bead from the pinpricks as I steadily increased the pressure. ¡°So, already reconsidering your earlier choice?¡± I murmured detachedly. ¡°N.. no.. I just.. I can¡¯t.. can¡¯t..¡± stammered the man, his eyes bugging out as tears and mucus started to roll down his face in equally appalling amounts. ¡°Can¡¯t. Can¡¯t. Can¡¯t,¡± I repeated in a calm, observational tone while lightly jabbing the tip of my sword into his head in rhythm with each of my words. ¡°That¡¯s a whole lot of can¡¯ts. I don¡¯t think your skull is thick enough to afford you many more of those.¡± ¡°B.. but.. I.. Can¡¯t..¡± The man actually started to foam from the mouth, and in short order he slumped to the ground, his eyes rolling up in his head as his whole body convulsed jerkily. I stared with a mixture of bewilderment and fascination as his movements gradually subsided, then stopped altogether. Wary of a trick, I carefully checked for a pulse, but there was none. ¡°What the hell have I gotten myself involved into now?¡± I muttered under my breath, wiping my sword clean on his clothes and sheathing it. ¡°Mommy, that was really freaky stuff,¡± mumbled Shia. I pointedly decided not to ask what part of watching nearly a dozen men get crushed to a pulp, then burned to a crisp wasn¡¯t any freakier than this, and instead jerked my neck sideways with an audible pop. ¡°Shia, time to rendezvous point?¡± ¡°Nine minutes thirty four seconds. Though I can calculate the distance and factor in Sol¡¯s rate of travel, currently there are too many outside elements that could..¡± came the instant reply. ¡°I know,¡± I cut her off. ¡°That¡¯s good enough. Give me a second and we¡¯ll get going.¡± I studied the glowing sigils on the back of my hand. Though there were still five circles, one of them was almost completely faded out. I turned back toward the corpse of the leader of the thugs, whose body I had cleaved in half. The cut had been a messy one, and upon closer examination, I could see that I had done well to aim for the area where the neck joined the torso. It was the precise area that was left unprotected by the equipment he was wearing, which looked to be made of good quality leather. Such material could partly absorb or even completely deflect many blows. If my first pre-emptive strike had failed to put the most dangerous enemy down or at least to seriously wound him, my chances of survival would have plunged precipitously. This was another incredible benefit of having Shia by my side. Thanks to the book of crafting secrets from the Umeji Clan, she could instantly identify most types of weapons or armor and helpfully highlight vulnerable areas and weaknesses particular to that specific item. That wasn¡¯t all, either. Due in part to Zephyr¡¯s ledger book, she could also appraise the value of most items I came across, and pointed out particularly valuable equipment or loot. One such was the hidden object Shia spotted within a hidden pocket in the vest of the now deceased thug leader. Something she noticed while talking about awkward mass distribution and incorrect proportions in the garment. In any case, I simply made a slit where Shia pointed and an almost identical hexagonal ring to the one that had led me to these ruins in the first place had fallen out. For a moment, the wild possibility that Tarik had planted the object in my person crossed my mind, but I immediately dismissed the idea. That would require too much subtlety, where Tarik¡¯s approach seemed to involve mostly brute force. However, what did it mean then? Could Tarik¡¯s men be here on a mission completely unrelated to myself or my party? That wasn¡¯t it either. I had overheard them specifically mentioning us just a little earlier. Then what? I looked over the corpse of the man I had interrogated and felt the first stabbing twinge of regret. Just a little, mind you. Like getting someone a coke when they had asked for a pepsi. Yeah, I should have asked better questions. I shook my head as I decided to revisit this topic later. I needed to get moving, but first I wanted to test a theory. Tentatively, I extended my tattooed hand forward. Instantly, the now-familiar black flames sprang to life from the corpse before me. However, when they came into contact with my hand, they merely swirled around the glyphs for a moment before being repulsed away. ¡°Undo Flame of the Soundbound,¡± I called out and held my breath expectantly, but nothing happened. ¡°Release soul. Absorb new soul. Eat soul. Drink soul..¡± I tried every combination I could think of, but nothing happened and vital seconds ticked on by. I let out a frustrated breath as I tried everything from dipping my hand in the still-warm blood pooling at my feet, to snatching at the dark flames slowly swirling around me. I was even considering reaching into that bloody mess to take out its heart or something equally distasteful when it hit me. I had become one of the Soulbound using Shia as a focus. Perhaps the way to control my ability would be through that same focus. I hastily took out Shia from the pocket where I kept her and laid my right hand on her cover. ¡°EWWW! Mommy, no! You¡¯re gonna get that yucky blood all over me!¡± came Shia¡¯s instant protest, which I judiciously ignored. ¡°I am the Soulbound,¡± I whispered, and watched in fascination as translucent swirls of incandescent light sprang to life from Shia and swirled in a myriad vortices around my hand. Just as the array of lights began to further expand, a warning window popped up in front of my eyes. *BLEEP*
    Alert! You are currently unable to control the forces of the Soulbinding ritual
    You have failed in your attempt to wield the power of the Soulbound. The soulbound or the focus is currently not at a sufficient level to control the forces of the soulbinding ritual, and further attempts may have catastrophic results. Do you still wish to continue with the ritual?
    YES NO
    I cursed bitterly as I tapped on the NO button. The error message went away and the flurry of lights instantly died out. ¡°Mommy, that¡¯s not very nice language.¡± came Shia¡¯s amused voice. I muttered a few more imprecations and chose to stomp off towards the rendezvous point. *** The rendezvous had gone off without a hitch, with a grumpy looking Sol being herded along by a decidedly happier looking Reaver. It seemed Sol was still angry about being left out of the fight. Right from the start, I had sent Sol away under the excuse of secreting away our auroch with enough water and feed to last for a couple days. In truth, I did not want him anywhere near the kind of brutal combat that had taken place. Not only was I apprehensive about his lack of experience and combat ability, but I felt oddly reluctant to plunge this naive child into the neck-deep torrents of blood I¡¯d waded into. I offered a brief update on our situation while leading our party deeper into the ruins and in search of further clues as to the specific location of the Arakian Monastery. Sol was sulking, but Reaver too was becoming increasingly restless. That first taste of blood had only whetted his appetite and he was spoiling for a good fight now. Realizing I was likely wearing a similar grin of manic delight, I tried to tone it down somewhat. In order to help in this process, I decided to go over the information I had available thus far. The ruins we were currently exploring were generally known as the Three Peaks Outpost. A long time ago, it must have been an impressive complex of fortifications. Now it was simply a bunch of rocks barely hanging on in the edge of nowhere. Quite literally so. There was no sign of life anywhere in the vicinity, and that was definitely out of place. However, if the ring I held in my hands was the key I hoped it was, then what the natives knew of Three Peaks had actually once been part of an Arakian Monastery, and that would explain a lot of things. According to Zephyr, Arakians had been fanatics who followed some obscure deity of war, and drove their minds and bodies to the very limits of martial prowess as an act of abject worship. In the process they had also been dabbling into demonic pacts, ritual human sacrifices and other unsavory acts that eventually drove them all mad. In the end, their constant raids to acquire more victims for their human sacrificial rites had pissed off pretty much all the kingdoms around them, and vast coalition forces had spent ten long years tracking down every single one of their monasteries and burying it under a mountain of corpses. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the body count belonged to said coalition forces. See, although their minds had all turned to mush, Arakians were widely recognized as having reached the very pinnacle of martial excellence. According to Zephyr, one well documented historical record describes the extended siege of an Arakian monastery by an army of over two thousand coalition troops. At the end of six bloody months, they had finally broken through with barely four hundred troops left to their ranks. As an act of petty retribution, they had cut off the heads of every Arakian monk they could lay their hands on during the whole campaign, dead or alive, in order to drive a spear through it and stake it up on the fallen monastery¡¯s ramparts. At the end of the day, a ragged cheer had floated through the ranks of the coalition army¡¯s survivors as a grand total of eighty two heads stood in silent witness to the massacre that had been wrought upon them. Eighty two against a well-equipped, capably led army of over two thousand troops, and they had still lost nearly three fourths of their numbers. Suffice to say, that army¡¯s morale was shattered and they quietly disbanded to become just another footnote in the terrifying legend of the Arakians. In any case, according to ancient lore, the depravity of the rites carried out by the Arakians in the worship of their forsaken god would cause a miasma of death to spread out into the immediate vicinity of any of their monasteries. That seemed to bear out with the complete lack of wildlife in the area. Moreover, I could almost feel it in my skin, a suffocating pressure that told me we were close to something. As we entered yet another dimly lit hallway, I took stock of the current situation. We were wandering the seemingly endless ruins, seeking the hidden entrance to an Arakian monastery we were not even sure existed. We barely had enough food and water for two days, and over twenty five grim killers for hire were hot on our tail. ¡°So much for the boot camp. Death camp, more like,¡± I muttered under my breath. And yet.. ¡°Uh.. mommy? You¡¯re doing it again¡± Shia hesitantly called out. ¡°I know, Shia. I know,¡± I acknowledged. And yet, that same manic grin kept sneaking back onto my lips. I was really going to enjoy this. Chapter 19 - The Scientific Mind Chapter 19 - The Scientific Mind ¡°Shia, display map again,¡± I whispered in a grim tone. Without a word, a glowing 3-D map of the surrounding ruins came into life in the air in front of me. After a brief moment, I closed my eyes and snarled wordlessly as I gritted my teeth. The map was an exquisitely detailed model of the site we had been exploring all night long now. The areas we had already explored were clearly displayed and labeled. However, in spite of the desperate speed with which we had traversed the crumbling ruins, there was still a dismayingly large expanse of lines which were obscured by a grey fog, upon which the words ¡°UNEXPLORED AREA¡± constantly flashed. According to Shia¡¯s earlier explanation, these areas were the ones she could draw up based upon the available data thus far, yet she had been forced to admit that these were merely conjecture and could only be relied upon for a general sense of direction rather than accuracy. Indeed, as we moved further into the map, the lines constantly changed as the seemingly endless passages stretched on and on. The ruins that had seemed to encompass the size of a respectable fortress had instead turned out to span an area that beggared the imagination, as constant twists and turns led deeper still, down into passages carved into the very bedrock of the mountain itself. At the very least, I knew we were not running in circles. Our small party kept moving deeper and deeper, as brick and mortar slowly turned into moss covered granite, then led into passages that had been carved seamlessly into the rock with astounding smoothness. Our steps had echoed hollowly in the mysterious tunnels, which were big enough to easily accommodate a couple carriages running side by side. The walls were filled with intricate carvings depicting various gruesome scenes of battle and murder, each more disturbing than the other. I briefly glanced to one side, where Shia¡¯s flickering illumination lit upon a nearby wall depicting the scene of a four-armed behemoth wielding a sword, an axe, a spear and a whip against the cowering figure of a man kneeling at its feet. The monster¡¯s features were humanlike, although the expression was oddly detached, the look in its eyes icy cold. Behind it lay a trail of countless ravaged corpses, a scene of appalling carnage that stretched into the horizon. Shaking my head, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I¡¯d blundered into this affair too recklessly. Initially, I¡¯d intended to explore some deserted ruins while training Sol and Reaver so we could begin to gain some experience while fighting as a unit. The hunter who had told me about these ruins had said that the only game we could expect were red-spotted hyenas, which would pose little danger to our party, and indeed, would provide valuable experience while we explored the ruins. What little of the ruins he had explored, he said, had been empty and devoid of any valuables, which is why he hadn¡¯t bothered to explore any further. However, upon our arrival there had been no signs of any life, not even the hyenas. Not only that, the pressure building up on my chest wasn¡¯t something I was merely imagining. Glancing over my shoulder, I furrowed my brow as I saw my companions as they sat on the cold, smooth stone floor, catching their breath with an aura of grim determination. Upon closer examination, Sol¡¯s skin looked clammier than before, and even Reaver¡¯s ears seemed to be drooping slightly. Part of it would be the fatigue of being on the run for the past eight hours, during which we had only dared to stop briefly to catch our breath. However, this repressive aura wasn¡¯t only in my imagination. We were getting close. However, I was no longer certain of our ability to deal with whatever lay at our destination. What had begun as a simple exploration run to unearth a few minor secrets of the Arioch Wastelands had turned to be far more than I¡¯d bargained for. A barely detectable rumble shook the floor, and my lips twitched upward slightly. That was probably a particularly nasty trap I¡¯d set during our last break. Then my expression darkened once again as I had to acknowledge the fact that our pursuers were gaining on us, though they were paying for their haste with precious blood. ¡°Shia?¡± I murmured. ¡°Based on the distance and direction, as well as the interval, that was trap number 8. Conservative damage estimates: one or two casualties, and two to three heavily wounded. Judging by their pace, they will likely leave the wounded behind and resume their pursuit.¡± ¡°Time?¡± ¡°.. Before that last trap, I¡¯d estimate that they have closed the gap to within 35 minutes,¡± whispered Shia, somewhat reluctantly. I closed my eyes, then nodded to myself. That was far, far too close. We were running out of time. While I was able to slowly whittle down their numbers, even given Shia¡¯s most optimistic projections, they would still vastly outnumber us. Worse yet, trap 8 had been the last location suitable for a large scale trap. These smooth passages did not allow much room for surprises. At least, with trap 8 we should be able to gain an hour or so, given that most of the passage would be obstructed with rubble which they would have to clear out of their way. ¡°Time to go,¡± I called out behind me, and immediately, Sol and Reaver stood back up. ¡°Another fake trap?¡± Sol asked while glancing at the crudely assembled structure I¡¯d laid next to me. I nodded. ¡°No time for anything else. Hopefully it will slow them down somewhat. I¡¯m surprised they¡¯re catching up so quickly. It¡¯s almost as though they want to stop us no matter the cost. It¡¯s a near suicidal pace, the way they are blindly charging into my traps.¡± ¡°Mommy, your observations are correct. If they slowed their pace by 40% to properly deal with your traps, they could likely reduce their casualties by 80% and vastly improve their chances of successful interception,¡± Shia commented in a puzzled tone. ¡°What possible connection could they have with the Arakian ruins though?¡± I wondered, half to myself. That the connection existed, however faint, couldn¡¯t be denied. After all, the men I had killed at the entrance of these ruins had an almost identical copy of the strange hexagonal ring I had received from the hunter who had told me about these ruins. Shaking my head, we continued deeper into the gloom. Two hours later, I frowned as I held up my hand, motioning my companions to stop. They complied instantly and without a sound. I cocked my head to one side and closed my eyes, listening. Suddenly, a deep rumble started to echo from Reaver¡¯s chest, and I knew we were out of time. ¡°Shia,¡± I mouthed, not daring to make a sound. ¡°Enhance the image of..¡± ¡°Down!¡± Shia cried out, and I instantly complied, pulling Sol down to the floor with me. I felt a breeze streak by my shoulder and a moment later, sparks flew from the wall next to me as a loud clang echoed throughout the tunnel. Glancing down, I saw could see a misshaped crossbow bolt, its tip no doubt twisted by the violent collision against the wall behind me. Instantly, the light from Shia died down. Smart girl, she had realized we were sitting ducks with that light. ¡°Shia,¡± I whispered urgently as I pulled Sol with me towards a nearby wall and away from the center of the tunnel. ¡°Can you see how many?¡± ¡°There are three of them. I¡¯m sorry mommy, I was distracted trying to calculate an optimal path to find..¡± I shook my head slightly. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. We¡¯ve all become too complacent. I can¡¯t believe they¡¯ve caught up with us so quickly! If there¡¯s only three.. Shia, can you amplify and show me their appearance?¡± ¡°I think so,¡± came my daughter¡¯s reply. A moment later, a tiny square of light, much dimmer and smaller than the usual images Shia conjured up, was reflected against the opposite wall. There, I could see the figures of three men who cautiously approached our position. They were hunched over and one of them seemed to be limping, Two held crossbows in their hands, and another had a sword drawn in his hand. ¡°They¡¯re wounded. One of them has been crippled, and the other two also have light injuries. Damn,¡± I snarled, as I smacked my fist against the wall next to me. ¡°Mister?¡± ¡°They all have unusually small frames. They probably dug a gap as soon as they could and sent these three through. They paid for such haste though. The hole probably collapsed and that last one, the one that is limping, he probably barely made it through. That means these three will likely try to stall us until the rest of them reach us.¡± As I finished speaking, another couple cracks exploded in the tunnel and sparks flew in a nearby wall as our pursuers kept shooting blindly. ¡°How can they see us? There¡¯s no light anymore,¡± complained Sol. ¡°They can¡¯t. They¡¯re just trying to delay us. However, we need to get rid of them. We¡¯re completely blind here and Shia can¡¯t show us the way without lining us up like a target at a shooting gall.. bah, archery range. Besides, inside this tunnel there¡¯s still a fair chance of being struck by a random shot.¡± Reaver growled deep in his throat, and he scratched at the floor in front of him with a deadly looking claw. ¡°Yes, we have to eliminate them. Sol, stay here while..¡± ¡°No, this time I¡¯m coming!¡± Sol instantly protested. ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for this,¡± I snarled. ¡°I can do this. I can help!¡± Sol¡¯s voice carried deep conviction. Letting out a long breath, I grasped Sol¡¯s shoulder with my hand. ¡°Are you sure you¡¯re ready for this? When you cut, you must cut without mercy, without hesitation. You have to cut to kill.¡± Under my hand, a slight tremor ran through Sol¡¯s skin. Still, I felt him nod as he said, ¡°I¡¯m ready.¡± ¡°Fine. This is the plan..¡± Moments later, immediately after another two sparks flew off the wall behind us, I shouted, ¡°Now, go go go!¡± Instantly, a bright light came into life and rapid footsteps echoed down the tunnel as the outlines of an adult, a child and a huge dog sped down the sides of the passage. ¡°Damn, they¡¯re running!¡± snarled one of the men, struggling to load another bolt into his crossbow. ¡°Don¡¯t let them go!¡± another man called out, furiously cranking a second crossbow. ¡°Get a move on!¡± At this, the third man reluctantly removed the cover from a hooded lantern he held in his hand. The gap in the lantern¡¯s cover released a thin strip of light directly onto the ground under his feet, providing just enough light to guide his steps as he started running after the retreating shapes in the distance. Finally finished with the loading and cranking of the device on his crossbow, one of the marksmen lifted the weapon to his shoulder and after a slight pause, a soft click was followed by a loud thannng as he shot at the retreating figures. Whether it was through luck or skill, his aim proved true and the bolt seemed to fly right through one of the figures and struck sparks on the wall just past him. That person¡¯s outline seemed to sway slightly before resuming its motion, and the shooter squinted in obvious puzzlement. ¡°Wait, something is not right..¡± he called out to his partners, going so far as to lay a hand on the arm of the man next to him, who had been about to release another bolt into the retreating figures. The man with the sword stopped and looked back over his shoulder, then back towards the silhouettes of their prey running up ahead. He squinted as though he suspected a trick of some kind - which of course, it absolutely was. ¡°The light! Quick!¡± suddenly cried out one of the crossbowmen behind him, but it was too late. The man holding the lantern cried out in surprise as he felt a glancing impact on his shoulder and pain exploded from his arm. At the same instant, a loud, metallic clang resonated from the wall next to him. Crying out in shock, his trembling hand reached up to feel a gash that had been opened high up his arm from a glancing hit by a sharp object. ¡°They.. they have arrows too!¡± he cried out in panic as he killed the lantern. The men instantly flattened themselves on the floor, and one of the men frantically worked the cranking device on his crossbow while the other aimed down his own loaded weapon, desperately seeking a target yet unable to distinguish anything from the darkness in the tunnel. In the silence that followed, faint clicking sounds could be dimly heard up ahead. For a moment, the man with the sword tilted his head to one side, then his eyes widened in alarm as he realized the sounds were rapidly approaching, like claws swiftly striking a hard surface. ¡°Now!¡± I cried out, and at the same time I covered my eyes. Blinding light instantly filled the tunnel, and I heard screams of pain from the direction of the men as their eyes were overwhelmed by the sudden flood of light. Instantly drawing my sword, I rushed towards the men only to have two bolts simultaneously scream through the air towards me. One of them flew harmlessly wide, but the other bit viciously into my side. The air seemed to shimmer slightly, then the whole image fragmented and vanished as Shia let the image collapse. In its place, the terrifying visage of Reaver came into view as he swiftly rushed past the man in front, dodging a clumsy swing at his side from the reeling swordsman as he still struggled to regain his sight. Then Reaver launched himself in a storm of claws and fangs at one of the helpless crossbowmen, who dropped his useless weapon and reached for the sword hanging at his side a moment too late to do him any good. The poor devil didn¡¯t even have time to stand back up. As he was struggling to get up into a more defensive position, the impact of Reaver¡¯s charge drove both of them to the ground and the gurgling screams of the man mingled with the fierce snarls of an enraged beast with 4 inch claws and even deadlier fangs putting them to good use. I got up from my crouch, barely 20 feet away from the men. The silent crawl in absolute darkness had been excruciatingly slow, but it had definitely paid off. The man with the sword cried out in shock as I dashed towards him, sword poised to strike. ¡°Reaver, switch targets now!¡± I cried out, and damn if the beast didn¡¯t instantly lift its bloody snout at my command, then sprang off the wailing man on the floor, and stalked towards the other marksman, who immediately dropped his useless crossbow and fumbled with his sword, backing away from Reaver. ¡°Sol, finish off the man on the floor. I¡¯ll handle this guy,¡± I called out, as I struck a darting blow towards his injured side. The man barely managed to lift his sword in time to block the blow, still reeling from the sudden light that had flooded the tunnel. I immediately followed up with another blow, then another, each more vicious than the last. The resounding clang as the weapons met was music to my ears. I could feel the man¡¯s guard weakening, obviously favoring his wounded arm. My dagger throw had been rather pathetic, just barely grazing his arm, but that was to be expected. After receiving the Soulbound¡¯s powers and having my soul stabilized, all my physical capabilities had risen sharply from being completely useless to at least being boringly average. This, however, did not mean I had suddenly become a master swordsman or infallible knife thrower. Instead, I had discovered that my swordsmanship was rudimentary, almost non-existent, and my lucky throw of the dagger into the eye of my opponent back in the alley had been just that, sheer luck. This was frustrating to the extreme. Back in my real body, I had possessed a master swordsman¡¯s supreme confidence in his craft, the art of severing a mortal coil from its fragile shell with a finely honed instrument of death. I still had all that knowledge and experience inside my head, but it remained just that. I was simply unable to condense said knowledge into action. As a matter of fact, I couldn¡¯t find a swordsmanship skill under my menu at all. That did not mean I couldn¡¯t swing a heavy lump of steel at a lump of flesh. Of course, that was far, far from being anything remotely resembling swordsmanship. No, this could not even be called a brawl. I was reduced to fulfilling the role of a brute whacking away with a hard object at a slightly softer object. In fact, I could only thank my lucky stars I was able to use skills like ¡°Overkill¡± at all. The system probably recognized the action as a simple task, such as digging a hole or chopping firewood. Case in point, I could instantly identify numerous gaps in my opponent¡¯s crumbling guard, yet my body was utterly incapable of exploiting said vulnerabilities. A vast divide lay between the knowledge rumbling within the towering thunderstorms inside my head, and the appallingly pathetic movements of my body as it refused to act the way I commanded it to. It was like witnessing a terrible car accident while being firmly stuck on the passenger¡¯s seat. I had a front row view of the apocalypse to come, yet could do nothing about it. I desperately needed to acquire a combat skill. I had inquired in town but our hasty departure, however necessary, had made it impossible for me to procure such. Thus, our current expedition into the depths of the Arakian Monastery. Surely within the depths of this ancient temple of unrivaled martial prowess I would be able to eke out a tiny drop - a tome, a scroll, hell even a damn flier - of combat competency? In the meantime, at least I could swing a lump of steel. That would have to do for now. BANG! That last blow had nearly broken my opponent¡¯s guard, the edge of my sword drawing a thin line of blood on his wounded arm. The man desperately backed away from me as his eyes slowly regained their focus. Time was running out for me. I stepped forward while lifting my sword overhead with a sharp cry, and the idiot fell for it, instantly raising his sword to protect his vulnerable side. Of course, I obliged by taking one more step forward, drawing even closer to him, and locking his sword with mine while my leg swept his own with a vicious kick, then immediately followed up by firmly shoving my entire weight against the swords we held locked in front of our chests. The man cried out in surprise as his foot slipped and he lost his balance. Of course, had I been able to competently execute the maneuver, I would have neatly swept the poor bastard off his feet and sent him sprawling to the floor, completely defenseless and primed for an instant finishing blow. Then again, if I could have had enough control of my own body to execute such a maneuver, I would have saved myself the trouble and simply twisted my wrists to roll my blade around his own, swiftly disarming him in the blink of an eye. Better yet, I would have feinted to his vulnerable side and instead sent a vicious overhand chop that would have cleaved his shoulder before he had time to shift his quavering sword to defend the obvious weak spot. Alas, instead I had to content myself with more mundane tasks. Yeah, just like digging holes and chopping firewood. Thus, my simple kick sent him reeling back, and in the instant his arms lost the necessary firmness to hold my blade back, I sent an efficient cut against his wrist, a mere shift that was over in the blink of an eye. Just like chopping firewood, really. Blood sprayed from the wound, and though sadly enough I was unable to slice cleanly through the limb, the cut did open his flesh to the bone. His grip immediately slackened, and the sword tumbled out of his grasp. I lifted my sword for the finishing blow as my opponent let out a howl of agony, likely unaware that those would be the last sounds from his mouth. What drew me back was a yelp of pain from my behind me. I turned my head slightly, then cursed as I kicked my opponent away and swiftly ran toward the source of the sound. Reaver stepped back gingerly as a thick stream of blood flowed from a wound in his flank. The man who had inflicted the wound had been the same man Reaver had initially pushed to the ground. With just a glance, I could clearly see what had happened, the sequence of events. Reaver had obediently charged at the other crossbowman, leaving the man on the ground for Sol to finish, as per my instructions. I had been confident that Reaver could either eliminate or at least hold off the third man while Sol and I finished off our respective enemies. However, Sol stood frozen in a corner, Malky trembling in his grasp. His lips were shaking uncontrollably as he stared blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused, tears streaming down his cheeks. In front of him stood both men, grimly approaching Reaver with their weapons drawn, who in turn stood his ground in front of Sol while baring his fangs. Reaver had likely been wounded because he had been forced to jump in front of Sol in order to take a blow that would have otherwise killed or seriously injured the kid, who at the moment stood completely defenseless. ¡°Sol!¡± I roared, rushing towards the man. ¡°Snap out of it!¡± My angry shout seemed to jolt him further into a panic, and Sol suddenly dropped Malky while his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor. Cursing loudly, I rushed towards one of the men, who had turned around at the sound my of voice. The other glanced briefly towards me as well, but turned back around to finish off the wounded Reaver. As I stormed towards the man standing between my companions and myself, I could see countless gaps in his defense. A guard held too low, feet overbalanced, skewed center of gravity.. they were legion, yet I could do nothing but whack away with my sword toward his shoulder, the most obvious move which even a child would be able to see and block, but a move which required no finesse and held the least danger of a riposte or counter-attack. Simultaneously, I used my momentum to push his arms to the side while I charged with my shoulder against his chest. That move, he hadn¡¯t seen coming. I lost nearly all the air in my lungs in the violent crash, but I could tell my gamble had paid off. My opponent had lost all of his breath and the tumbled back in a defensive crouch. I used the impact to reposition my feet and directly rush towards the unguarded back of the man facing Reaver, who had already begun an attack of his own. I could tell the damn mutt was still half-dazed from the wound he had suffered, but would not move away because that meant leaving Sol vulnerable. Damn, I wasn¡¯t going to make it in time. ¡°Overkill!¡± I cried out, as I jumped forward with my sword held high in a two-handed grip. Hearing my shout from behind me, the man flinched and instinctively turned his head toward me, then tried to back away. However, by then it was far too late. *TTIRING*
    Special Attack: Overkill Success!
    By harnessing all your power and explosively focusing it in a single blow, you are able to deal tremendous damage at the sacrifice of greatly increased stamina expenditure and leaving yourself vulnerable to a counter-attack!
    Damage Dealt:75
    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. It had not been a critical blow, but since he had already been wounded by Reaver, the deep gash my sword sliced into his chest had been enough to finish him off. *TTIRING*
    You have gained 120 xp!
    Panting from the exertion, I desperately tried to gather myself up from my attack, but it felt as though the air had thickened around me. I could only grunt with the effort as I slowly straightened my knees and stood back up. Far too slow. Turning my head, I could see the man I had initially pushed aside rushing toward me in a lunge, the point of his sword headed straight for my gut. I snarled wordlessly as I tried to force my arms to respond, but I knew it would be too late. ¡°Mommy!¡± Shia cried out at the last moment. The light illuminating the tunnel suddenly went dark as Shia made a last ditch attempt to help me avoid my enemy. However, it was too late. All breath exploded from my lungs as I felt a sharp impact right in my chest. Then I was sent tumbling to the ground along with my attacker as he flailed in the sudden darkness. Refusing to give up, I set my teeth as my arms finally began to obey my orders again. While my opponent had obviously panicked at the last moment and thus lost his balance at the moment of impact, his aim had been true. Still, I was determined to drag him with me to hell. Otherwise, it would be too lonely a road. Matching thoughts to actions, I summoned the last of my strength and reached out blindly. Of course, I had not panicked and my eyes had tracked his movement to the very end. For someone with as much fighting experience as I had, there were very few things that could truly shake me. Thus, I had maintained my focus and I could vaguely tell where my target was. After a moment of blind groping, there! I willed my left hand to form a fist with all the willpower I had left, gripping his hair and pulling back savagely. Immediately, I sent my other hand in a vicious jerking motion, dragging the edge of my blade against his neck. Sensing some struggle, I pulled my sword back, then ruthlessly drove the tip into soft tissue. Warm liquid immediately surged forth, and the struggles ceased. *TTIRING*
    You have gained 120 xp!
    Exhausted, I let go of my left hand as my lungs reflexively tried to gather precious air. I knew it would be useless. Bastard had aimed for my guts but he had probably nailed my lung instead. All breath had left me and I knew I would not be able to draw in another. Arterial red would be filling the gap instead, and I would slowly drown in my own blood. My lungs convulsed again, stupidly refusing to give up even though it was a lost cause. Then sweet air rushed into them and I tasted what seemed the most precious breath of air in my entire life. How? Light once again came into flickering life, and I found myself sprawled on the floor with the corpse of the man whose throat I¡¯d slit still pumping warm blood onto my hands. Perplexed, I followed the line of his arms, down to his sword, which was still held against my chest. Then I understood. ¡°Shia..¡± I mouthed. The tip of the dead man¡¯s sword lay against Shia, who had somehow managed to jump out of my pocket at the last instant and interposed herself between the deadly steel and my fragile heart. ¡°Mommy, that was too scary.. wuuu..¡± came Shia¡¯s voice, filled with tears. ¡°Shia..¡± I whispered, my voice filled with an indescribably warm feeling towards this mysterious being who had long ago ceased to be a simple object of magic, and rather felt like an indispensable part of my life now. In fact, what thickened my voice and stung my eyes wasn¡¯t the fact that she had saved my life, the end result of her action, but rather that gesture itself. She had unhesitatingly placed herself in danger for my sake. There had been no time to think, to reason, but rather it had been pure reaction. Instinct. ¡°Mommy, don¡¯t ever do that again..¡± came Shia¡¯s tearful words. ¡°Shh, it¡¯s alright now..¡± I mumbled, then gathered myself as I looked to the last remaining enemy, who was still cradling his useless hand while staring at me and my talking, moving book. ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± I explained, as I lifted my sword. It was over in a moment. Immediately after, I turned towards Reaver to inspect his wound. To my relief, it was less serious than I¡¯d feared, and I applied some of our healing salve while Sol lay huddled in a miserable heap, with Malky lying discarded at his feet. ¡°Sol..¡± I called to him, but the kid didn¡¯t answer. In his tear-filled eyes, I could see a maelstrom of emotions shaking his very soul. Disappointment. Shame. Terror. Self-loathing. As soon as I finished patching Reaver up, he silently padded up to Sol and lay his head on top of his shoulder, whining plaintively. When Sol didn¡¯t react, Reaver lowered his head to grip the pommel of Malky with his teeth, then painfully dragged the heavy sword towards Sol. I felt a pang as Reaver held the sword towards Sol, still whining plaintively. Sol¡¯s eyes started to stream with tears again, and he mumbled, ¡°I can¡¯t.. I¡¯m not.. I don¡¯t deserve..¡± Sol futilely tried to push Reaver away, unable to meet his gaze. However, the damn mutt wouldn¡¯t relent, and fresh blood began to pour from the wound I¡¯d just bandaged up as it struggled to lift the giant sword into Sol¡¯s hands. Abruptly, Reaver swayed on his feet and faltered, slumping toward the ground. ¡°Reaver!¡± Sol cried out in alarm as he saw the blood, and he reflexively took hold of the sword with one arm while propping Reaver up with the other. As soon as Sol moved, however, a twinkle returned to Reaver¡¯s eyes and his mouth hung wide open while his tongue hung lolling lopsidedly from one side. Damn mutt, he was laughing his ass off. ¡°Reaver!¡± Sol cried out once more, and was at once bowled over by Reaver, who mercilessly inundated him with dog drool. Ugh. Stepping forward, I gently pushed Reaver aside with my boot. I grunted with the effort, but Reaver looked up at me and after a smart bark at me, he retreated to let me approach Sol. I nodded to Reaver, then reached down to offer my hand to the kid. Sol still didn¡¯t meet my eyes. ¡°Someone once said the only thing one ought to fear is fear itself,¡± I told him gently, still holding my hand out to him. ¡°Don¡¯t let it win, boy.¡± Sol¡¯s grip on Malky tightened, then he looked up at me with unreadable eyes. ¡°Mister.. I¡¯m sorry.¡± He said simply. I calmly gazed back at him, my eyes unwavering. I stood motionless, waiting. After a long moment that felt like a lifetime, Sol slowly reached up with his hand, and took my hand. I swiftly pulled him up, then looked into his eyes and nodded to him. ¡°Good, that¡¯s the first step. I knew you had it in you,¡± I told him simply, then pushed him forward gently. ¡°It¡¯s not about whether you fall or not, it¡¯s about how soon you get back up. Inch forward, it¡¯s all we can do. Got it?¡± Sol nodded without a word. I put a hand on his head and ruffled his head. ¡°Well done, kid.¡± Sol¡¯s eyes welled up with tears, but I pretended not to notice, and turned around to inspect the bodies of the men we¡¯d killed. ¡°Mommy, there are three swords, four daggers, two crossbows, 28 bolts, three bags likely to hold some valuables..¡± Shia continued to list off various items. After collecting various loot, none of which was particularly noteworthy, and setting a nasty little surprise involving an invisible tripwire and a loaded crossbow, we moved off once more. An hour later, still determinedly trudging our way forward, I murmured, ¡°Shia, display map. How close are we to that strange fault line you..?¡± I cut off my sentence as I began to feel a slight breeze blowing towards us, though making out the way ahead became increasingly difficult as a strange mist started to swirl around us. As the breeze became more noticeable, so did the strange mist, to the point where strong gusts of wind pushed eddies of fog around us as we determinedly pushed forward. Hastening my steps while keeping my eyes on the map Shia was displaying for my benefit, I motioned my companions to watch their step. Almost immediately after, I heard Shia¡¯s voice call out a warning. ¡°Mommy! Watch your step!¡± came the shrill cry. ¡°Huh?¡± For just a moment I hung suspended in the air as a strong gust of wind buffeted me and blew away all the mist in front of me, revealing a yawning abyss under my feet. I immediately backpedaled, twisting in mid-air and desperately reaching behind me as my body suddenly plunged down towards the darkness below. Frantically, my fingers clawed at the air just short of the cliff face where Sol desperately lunged towards me, reaching out with his hands. It was too late, and my stomach lurched as I felt myself being pulled down into the pit. Just then, my descent was stopped as I heard the sound of ripping cloth and a beastial snarl. I glanced up to see that Reaver had managed to grasp one of my sleeves in between his teeth. With a deep growl, Reaver scrabbled at the edge of the cliff as he tried to pull me up, but the sleeve was being torn from my weight. Just then, a lifetime of reflexively violent behavior saved my life once more, as my first instinctive reaction in most critical situations had me reaching towards my knife. With hardly a thought, I drew the knife and stabbed it deep into the rockface. With a resounding clang, it found a slight fissure where it became tightly wedged in. With a sigh of relief, I was able to slowly pull myself up with Sol and Reaver¡¯s assistance. Slowly letting the hammering of my heart calm down, I awkwardly patted Reaver¡¯s head in appreciation. The mutt lolled its tongue and wagged its tail, and I put on a long-suffering look as it licked my face a couple times. Fine, it had earned that right a hundred times over just now. I couldn¡¯t believe I had become so careless. I had now been up for over 32 hours without respite, and the consequences of pushing this weak body of mine were starting to show themselves in poor judgment compounded by a lethargic mind. ¡°That was close mister,¡± murmured Sol, shaking his head while looking out over the edge of the cliff we stood on. I nodded silently while studying the vista before us with disbelieving eyes. The mist-filled tunnel we had been traversing suddenly opened into this cliff face. Under it stretched a wide chasm which stretched out into the distance both to my left and my right. However, that was not what held my gaze. The object that made me question my sanity was the gigantic face staring down at us from the other side of the abyss. It was carved from the same granite of the walls, and must have stretched well over a hundred feet tall. Its features seemed oddly familiar, and I suddenly realized it shared similar features to the strange four-armed demon we had seen carved on many of the walls on our way here. They must belong to the same race. The face was carved with exquisite detail, and although the features conveyed no particular expression, that same lack of emotion seemed to fill the void with an ominous feeling. In spite of the icy expression, most would call it beautiful, the way some felt attracted towards a lone mountain or a monumental glacier. To me, they just seemed alien. Though the features were close to those of a human, the feeling they evoked most definitely were not. ¡°Shia, haven¡¯t we seen this face on..?¡± I call out absently. ¡°3,422 distinct figures of this same race have been portrayed upon the walls of the structures we have passed. Though the differences are minor, they are enough that I can safely say that they are not the same individual.¡± I nodded silently while considering our situation. If this was a simple dead end, it would likely mean the end for us. Furrowing my brow, I began to rack my brain in order to find a solution. This was it. One of the main reasons I had chosen the scholarly profession. Yes, I loved reading books and becoming engrossed in them, particularly when they contained practical information I could use to better arm myself in my one man war against the world around me. However, my reasons for choosing the Scholar class also had to do with my quest to seek out ancient powers and reclaim legendary relics from the mists of time. That was also the reason I had chosen the Arioch Wastelands as my beginning location, in spite of the fact that there were hardly any damn books to be read at all! It was the moment of truth. I stood at these ancient ruins, and it was time for my Scholar class to deploy its full might in order to unlock the deepest mysteries that lay carefully tucked within its folds. What I got, of course, was a whole lot of nothing. No flash of inspiration, no moment of sudden clarity, no transcendent vision of the profound truths of existence. "Damn useless piece of.." I cut off my snarl imprecation as I let out a deep sigh, then decided to focus on more practical matters. Surely, there had been plenty of clues on my way here. I began to dig through my mind as I recalled the previous few days and all the things I''d beheld. My stubborn investment into intelligence had expanded what had originally been a modestly gifted memory into a truly prodigious talent for retaining information and procuring knowledge. As I stood there delving into the deepest recesses of my mind, I felt a rushing sound fill my ears, then a sudden, sharp crack echoed within my head, as though some invisible, intangible barrier had been breached. It was then when I saw a blinking light at the corner of my vision. "Hmm?" Frowning, I glanced toward it and it expanded into a new window. *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! You have earned the exclusive class trait, "The Scientific Mind"!
    Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:
    The Scientific MindD11%
    Some call it a stroke of fortune, others divine inspiration. You might just recognize it for what it truly is: plain pigheaded stubborness, a refusal to yield to the common, thus opening the way to the uncommon, and from time to time, to the truly divine. This is a unique skill. Further bonuses unknown.
    "The Scientific Mind? What kind of half-assed.." I grumbled, but trailed off as a spark of inspiration hit me. Yes, inspiration. I don''t know what else to call it. ¡°We need to get across. Otherwise, this is a dead end and a deathtrap for us," I mumbled, half to myself. Standing hunched over next to me, Sol shuddered as he pulled his eyes away from the statue. ¡°Go across to where?¡± ¡°That mouth lines up with this opening. Doesn¡¯t it look like an entrance of sorts?¡± ¡°But that mouth is firmly shut mister.¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to find a way to open it.¡± ¡°Are you saying the statue is alive?¡± came Sol¡¯s alarmed reply. ¡°It just seems too coincidental to have this cave lead all the way down here to a complete dead end while we have this intricately carved statue simply stand there. Besides, I can feel..¡± I trailed off as I saw Sol¡¯s horrified gaze on me. ¡°Mister, I don¡¯t think this is a good place. I think we should leave,¡± Sol whispered hoarsely, and I could see his complexion had grown pasty white. I tilted my head to one side as I studied Sol for a moment. ¡°Sol, are you alright?¡± I asked, concerned. I hadn¡¯t had the time to monitor Sol¡¯s situation, but I could now see that his eye sockets were sunken and deep shadows had gathered under them. Furthermore, his usual healthy pink complexion had turned a ghastly grey. ¡°I.. I¡¯m alright. I can take it.¡± Sol said fiercely, but the fire in his eyes was swiftly dimmed by the constant howl of the wind around us. Having no other choice, I turned around to find a way to cross. We could not afford to stop now. ¡°Shia, scan the area around us for any openings or grooves,¡± I ordered as I used the hilt of my dagger to test the walls and floor around us for any hollow surfaces. ¡°Already have, Mommy. There¡¯s nothing. Other than more of the horrible carvings, the walls show no irregularities.¡± ¡°Wait, the carvings. The carvings. That¡¯s gotta be it!¡± I growled. ¡°Shia, go over the carvings and cross reference with this object,¡± I said while fishing out the hexagonal ring. After a few moments, Shia¡¯s excited voice hummed in my ears. ¡°Mommy, I got it! Although the object is not directly represented in any of the carvings, the six sides are a polymorphic representation of..¡± I winced, recalling Zephyr¡¯s usual incomprehensible ramblings, and firmly interrupted. ¡°Get to the point, Shia. We need to cross now.¡± ¡°The ring is likely a magical item that remains dormant and appears to be an innocuous item until it is bound with by blood. It should be able to trigger some failsafe mechanism.¡± Without a word, I pricked my finger using my dagger, then let a drop of my blood drip on to the ring in the palm of my hand. Although it seemed to shimmer for an instant, nothing else happened while everyone stood there barely daring to breathe. ¡°Mommy, really? Rings are meant to be worn, you know..¡± came Shia¡¯s exasperated voice. With a mutter, I fitted the ring into my finger. We all stood there, waiting for something, anything to happen. It didn¡¯t. I scowled at Shia. ¡°That¡¯s strange..¡± came my daughter¡¯s puzzled voice. ¡°Bah, useless piece of..¡± I took the ring off and was about to shove it back into my pocket when a hand fell on my wrist. I frowned slightly as I looked to Sol, whose blank stare seemed to bore into the ring I held in my hand. ¡°An oath made in blood..¡± Sol murmured in a strange voice I¡¯d never heard from him before. Honestly, it freaked the hell out of me. For a moment, it had almost sounded like a woman¡¯s voice, high and clear though it was just a soft whisper. Alarmed, I tried to tug my hand free of Sol¡¯s grip, but he held me with irresistible strength, as though his fingers were carved from marble. I could only gape as he calmly stretched a hand out and plucking the ring from the palm of my hand, slid it onto his finger. ¡°Bound by blood..¡± Sol finished in that same unfamiliar voice, then suddenly the light of full consciousness seemed to return to his eyes as he peered questioningly at the ring on his finger, then glanced up to meet my eyes. Just as Sol parted his lips to speak, the crackling sound of magical energies shook the air around him. The ring on Sol¡¯s finger burst into incandescent light as it seemed to twist itself into place. Fiery runes that had previously been invisible on its surface pulsated and danced with a golden light. Suddenly, small clicks could be heard as tiny invisible hooks protruded from the ring and bit deeply into Sol¡¯s flesh. Blood immediately spurted from the wound but most of it was instantly absorbed by the ring as it steamed and hissed as soon as the precious lifeblood came into contact with its glowing surface. I gaped in astonishment as the light grew stronger for a couple seconds, then suddenly a beam of crimson light streaked from the ring into the gigantic statue¡¯s forehead. Immediately, the whole statue¡¯s surface seemed to ripple as its lips parted and a torrent of mist was thrust from its mouth in our direction. The mist quickly solidified until a tunnel of a semi-opaque material was formed connecting the edge of the cliff where we stood to the mouth of the statue, which now stood wide open. *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! You have discovered an unknown dungeon! Information unavailable
    ¡°Sol!¡± I screamed, with the wind suddenly howling in my ears as it buffeted me and Reaver, but strangely didn¡¯t seem to affect Sol at all. Sol turned his head to look at me, confusion and panic warring on his face. I tried in vain to reach towards him, but before I could move even an inch, the mist seemed to collapse around Sol as it effortlessly lifted him off his feet, then slowly, inexorably sucked him towards the gaping maw of the living statue. I could do nothing as I met Sol¡¯s wide-eyed gaze, desperately stretching my hand towards him. Then the mist was abruptly sucked into the statue, and I could only watch as once more Sol was taken from my side and into the darkness beyond. ¡°SOOOOL!¡± I screamed, and I could hear Reaver snarling ferociously as his claws dug against the rock next to me, but it was in vain as we watched Sol vanish inside the statue¡¯s lips. Then the light seemed to go out in its eyes and its mouth closed with a resounding boom. Finally, a deep silence filled the abyss in front of us once more. Only then did the wind die down, and I was able to move once again. I knelt at the edge of the edge of the precipice as I glared at the statue in front of me, which had gone dormant once more. Smashing my fist viciously against the floor in front of me, I snarled wordlessly as sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps reached my ears from behind me, back the way we had come. My pursuers had finally caught up with me. Chapter 20 - I Will Not Fail Chapter 20 - I Will Not Fail Author''s Notes: Hey guys, I know it has been a while. I feel bad about the people who generously commended the story and enjoyed it. In appreciation of that, I will crank out a minimum of 2 more chapters by this weekend, possibly more. Look forward to it! The last fading rumbles in the air left behind a deafening silence, as though to belie the incredible scene I¡¯d just witnessed. The gigantic stone statue before me stood remote and impassive, not leaving a single trace of its previous movements, which just moments ago had shocked me to the core. Damn it, I had just watched another person I was protecting be snatched from me, while gazing helplessly, powerlessly. It was almost maddening, and I could feel the edges of my vision contracting into a red haze, my breathing coming in harsh, ragged gasps. Sophia.. Not again. Not this again. I had sworn I would not let this happen again. Back in my past life, when I watched them take her away, that moment when my whole world had collapsed and the deep, yawning abyss had at long last fulfilled its long promise of abject despair, I had spit out a most solemn vow amidst the black, bitter blood that had surged up my throat. Never again. Never again would I let them take from me again. No, from that moment on, I would reverse the tables. I would take. I would take it all back, and if nothing was left, then I would gorge myself on the ashes. I would burn the whole world down, myself included. For this one purpose, no matter the odds, the morality, the justification - I would find power. I would scour the ends of the earth and sell my soul to the heart of evil itself, in exchange for uncontested, uncompromising power. I had once yearned for the power to protect. Foolish and fatally naive, of course I was destined to fail. Now all I required was the power to dominate. The power to avenge. To utterly destroy. And now, I had failed once again. Clenching my fists until my knuckles were creaking and threatening to burst apart, I opened my mouth and drew a deep, shuddering breath, about to roar my defiance to the merciless fate which had condemned me to failing time and time again - the only puny gesture of resistance a second-rate loser like I could offer. That was me, a loser. A deluded fool. Where was my power now? Where was my resolve? What had I achieved? Pathetic.. Just at that moment, a shrill howl pierced the mist around me, its sound supercharged with the purity that could only be endowed by a singular focus of purpose: rage. Startled out of my reverie, I glanced to the side and squinted at Reaver. His back was bent in a magnificent arc, his fur standing on end. His lips were parted as he howled his defiance to the darkness beyond, revealing the dark glint of fangs which promised swift ruination to any who dared stand against him. Stupid mutt, it had a point. Rather than bitch about how pathetic I was, I should instead grind my teeth and spit out some more bitter blood. So the gods would toy with my fate, all well and good. They were like a capricious child whose fingers I would eventually crush in my grip. Hell, I¡¯d rip their damn hands off and stuff them down their throats. In order to do that, I had no choice but to swallow the vile poison bubbling up my throat, and persevere. After all, who really gave a damn about me? My whole life lay there, like a tragic drama playing out before my eyes, and was there even one iota of cosmic power out there who cared one bit? No, of course not. I was alone. Always alone. Ultimately, it was up to me to pick up the broken pieces, swallow the bile surging up my throat, and persevere. Because, what other option was there? Either that, or give up. I might not always win, but I would never give up. Ever. So, you want to continue tearing strips off my soul bit by bit instead of squashing me down like a bug under your mighty cosmic heel? Sure, it might be more fun for you, but what doesn¡¯t kill me only makes me stronger. I will make you regret this. I will make you rue the day you left me alive. Swiftly regulating my breathing, I willed my heart back to a steady thrum, one that would no longer threaten to burst the walls of my chest in its impotent rage. ¡°Shia,¡± I grated out, my voice still trembling slightly with barely contained rage threatening to explode as though from a dam just about to crack wide open. ¡°The enemy?¡± ¡°M.. mommy, this strange fog is obstructing my view. Amplifying their footsteps and isolating echoes, 13 to 16 heavily armed men, ETA 83 seconds.¡± Turning my head around, I squinted towards the gloom but couldn¡¯t even make out anything because of the fog. Damn, no time to even make a trap. Besides, they were certain to have heard this damn mutt¡¯s howling, and be on guard as a result. Briefly, the thought of using Reaver as bait flashed in my head, but strangely I discarded that idea almost immediately. Not because of any stupid sentimentality, I told myself. Of course not. After all, the tunnel behind me seemed to be the only way out other than that damn statue''s mouth which didn¡¯t look like it would be opening anytime soon. No way to circle around them even if they were focused on Reaver. No time to set up any traps either. Glancing at the still howling Kha¡¯zik pup, I repeated to myself that it was simply not practical to use the Kha¡¯zik as a diversionary tactic. No, it would be more advantageous to somehow shut the damn thing up and find a miraculous way to vanish into thin air with that 250 pound beast in tow. Nothing if not practical, that was me. Grumbling bitterly at my available choices, or lack thereof, I muttered, ¡°Shia, show me a panoramic view of the cliff face, especially the area immediately above and below us.¡± I unslung my pack and started to swiftly uncoil a length of rope from my pack, after which I securely fastened one end to one of the crossbow bolts I had looted off our most recent would-be killers. ¡°Shia, overlay with fault lines, cracks..¡± I stopped as Shia quickly complied, immediately showing me a series of crisscrossing lines that snaked their way up and around the whole rockface. Examining the image Shia had pulled up, I narrowed my eyes. ¡° I had no way of activating the damn portal. Dungeon my ass. Shaking my head and silently vowing to defenestrate the bastard who had designed this particular dungeon - whoever had heard of a dungeon in a game that wouldn¡¯t open for its players - I stretched out my hand and gripped the back of Reaver¡¯s neck firmly in my grasp, then twisted his head towards me to make sure I had its full attention. Glancing at those huge fangs and the insane fire lit within that single icy cold blue eye staring back at me, as well as the slowly widening maw that revealed an impressive array of wickedly sharp teeth, I couldn¡¯t help but ponder that there were certainly less stupid ways to commit suicide. Of course, none of this showed in my expression. Instead, I mirrored that same insane grin, one that held not one hint of humor and 100% vicious pain, and flicked my head towards the tunnel behind us. ¡°Sol is not dead. Yet. So, are we done whining or are we gonna do something about it?¡± Reaver growled deep in his throat, and the wintry chill in his single blue eye grew even colder, while a faint reddish glimmer could be faintly distinguished through the eyepatch that covered his other eye. ¡°Good. Then lets get on with it.¡± Watching the feral gleam in Reaver''s eyes and the way his fur stood on end as he turned around to face the tunnel, I shook my head ruefully. Damn mutt reminded me of my younger days, back when I didn''t give a damn about odds or survival, not so long as I could die with some blood between my teeth. Ah, happier days. "Not the time for suicidal last charges yet. We have a kid in distress to rescue, remember? Time enough for glorious last stands later." Reaver sniffed and looked down his snout at me. Sure, pretend you¡¯re too high and mighty to be thinking of suicidal charges now, will you? I could read this mutt like an open book. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that I could read it like an open book. Picking up my crossbow, I turned around and steadying my breath, I squeezed on the trigger and jolted back as I felt the kick. ¡°Not my best shot, but I¡¯ll take it.¡± Reaver said nothing, but his look spoke volumes. Okay, so this was definitely not one of my brightest strategies. I had been able to drive a crossbow bolt into a small crack running up the wall about 6 feet to the right of the opening where we stood. Fortunately, this crack ran diagonally towards the overhang above us, and I had been aiming for a spot just about 8 feet above my head - essentially out of immediate reach, but not too a challenging a shot with a crossbow. That would barely clear the tunnel opening and reach over the top of the arch, allowing me to climb over it. With my luck, I hadn¡¯t dared aim any higher than that. Since the crack was at least three inches wide, from a distance of 8 feet it had been very hard to miss, even with my dismal aim. After all, crossbows are different from bows. Essentially, it was just point and shoot. That was fortunate, since it wasn¡¯t as though I could just drive a bolt into solid rock. Good luck with that. The bolt gave off a few clangs as it shot into the fissure, but fortunately, it caught on something. I pulled on it as hard as I could, but seemed to steady enough. Hopefully it would hold my weight long enough to allow me to climb up. The crack was far enough from the opening that it was out of immediate reach, and since the crossbow bolt was driven deep inside the crack, so long as I cut off the rope after I reached the overhang above our heads, I was confident they wouldn¡¯t find us. Without daring to lose any more time, I decided to bite the bullet. Of course, I would have to be the one doing all the heavy lifting. Damn mutt. ¡°Being a fancypants Kha¡¯zik whatever, what¡¯s the use if you can¡¯t even climb up a damn rope?¡± I grumbled under my breath. Casting a final baleful glance towards Reaver, who had sat watching my efforts with quiet intensity, I slowly eased my body over the left edge of the cliff and stepped into empty air while hanging on to the rope I¡¯d attached to the crossbow bolt. Though it wiggled dangerously a couple times, it held as I pulled myself up slowly and steadily. and over the arch above as Reaver sat watching me with an unblinking stare. As Shia had shown me, the overhang was barely a couple feet deep, but it was wide and round enough to allow me to continue with my plan. The first thing I did, of course, was to cut off the rope I¡¯d used to climb, effectively concealing what little I couldn¡¯t reach deep inside the crack. ¡°You better not squirm, you damn mutt,¡± I muttered, as I undid a second length of rope from around my waist, the other end of which was securely fastened around Reaver. Hey, he may not be the most ideal spotter, but in this kind of situation, any insurance was better than none. In a worst case scenario, I would happily pull the mutt into the abyss after me. Misery does love company. In any case, the rope would serve another function. After unfastening the rope from around my waist, I hurriedly unslung my bag and tied it to the rope. This bag contained most of our remaining supplies as well as the few weapons and other loot I¡¯d collected from the dead men so far. While on the run, I had already discarded most unessential items that could weigh us down, but a few pieces had been remarkable enough to keep. Good thing too, since I would need all the leverage I could get right now. Hell, I even stuffed a couple large rocks I found at a glance into the bag. After stretching the rope over the length of the overhang, I slowly lowered the bag over the other end from where Reaver sat. Eventually, the rope went taut and Reaver¡¯s body slowly began to rise while the bag dipped lower. As for me, I was hauling for all I was worth. Cursing myself for not having put a few more points into strength, I tried to leverage the rope as best as I could with the load on the other side. However, my bag weighed at most 80 pounds, even with all the newly acquired items added in. On the other end of the rope, I had to lift around 250 pounds of useless mutt, and I was a scholar, not a damn mule, contrary to what my main trait said. Still, I braced my feet and with more than a few grunts of agony and snarled curses, I was able to finally pull an oddly calm looking Reaver up to the ledge. Hell, he even looked like he might be enjoying himself, if the situation hadn¡¯t been so grave. As soon as he was within reach of the overhang, his claws found purchase and he scrabbled to nimbly get himself up. As soon as he did so, I started hauling my bag up, and Reaver smartly bit on the rope and assisted me without a sound. That was good, because otherwise I don¡¯t think I could have managed. My arms were killing me, and I could barely feel my hands, which had a hint of blood in them. After we recovered the bag with all our essential supplies, I knelt there, breathing heavily without daring to make a sound. The sounds of footsteps echoing from the tunnel had died down after Reaver¡¯s howls, which was only reasonable. They would exercise more caution now that their prey was finally within reach, right? Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Of course, I was wrong yet again. I heard footsteps rushing closer, without any concern whatsoever for noise or stealth. As a matter of fact, I heard a few voices screaming like madmen, obviously charging forward with no regard to their personal safety. What was wrong with these people? Even with my cautious approach, I had barely avoided falling off the edge because of all the mists within the tunnel. Surely, with this mad rush at least a few were bound to fall to their screaming deaths below? Alas, I was to be disappointed. Not only did the footsteps stop exactly at the right moment, our pursuers did not so much as glance at the endless abyss at their feet. True, they were holding torches aloft, but the mists were so thick within the tunnel, the light could have done little more than hamper their vision even further. They must have been familiar with this place. That¡¯s the only explanation I could come up with. This was further confirmed as I didn¡¯t see anyone so much as bat an eyelid at the gigantic statue standing before us. I had already guessed as much. The speed at which they had run down our trail in spite of the many winding twists and turns of the passageways had already convinced me that they must be heading for the same place we had been seeking, the heart of the Arakian Monastery. After all, I had the benefit of Shia, who could infallibly point out the direction we were heading in, as well as being able to track our progress down to the millimeter with her infallible mapping skill, thus preventing us from becoming lost or wandering needlessly. Our enemy had consistently gained on us, in spite of lacking such means. That could only mean they knew where they were headed. One of the men, wearing red leather armor with vicious metal spikes protruding from it and the same strange symbol I¡¯d seen on the swords I had looted embossed on the armor''s chest, stood at the very edge of the precipice, hotly glaring at the giant statue. The rest of the men wore similar dark green mercenary outfits to the ones I had just killed. Many seemed wounded, and most looked dirty and haggard, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. So, the chase hadn¡¯t been easy on them either. After a moment, during which the rest of the men stood uneasily behind him, the man in red armor turned around and growled in a deep voice, ¡°Your incompetence has allowed our prey to profane the Holy Halls of the Eternal. We must stop them before they further desecrate its secrets. What are you waiting for? Activate the portal.¡± Upon hearing this, my pulse quickened and I had to concentrate to regulate my breathing, otherwise I was afraid I might give my position away. While outwardly I did not so much as twitch a single muscle, inside I was quietly exulting. With Sol vanished inside that Statue, and dozens of foes obviously intent on my death, I had been left with no smart options. Thus, I had no choice but to take an admittedly very stupid option. Thus my current position, hanging suspended in the air barely 25 feet above the heads of the, oh, 20 or so people fanatically seeking to kill me. The thin overhand where we were hiding only provided enough cover to hide because of all the fog around us. One decent gust to blow our cover and anyone craning their heads up would be able to discern our outline above them. Still, I held on to the rope and waited. ¡°Yes, sir!¡± immediately responded one of the men, and retrieved something from inside a chest he took out from a pack he carried by his side. It was a vial of red liquid. Was that.. blood? Wait, Sol¡¯s blood? Had that been the catalyst needed to activate the portal? What could be the link? The man mumbled some words in a language I could not recognize, then took out a ring almost identical to the one Sol had used to being the statue to life. As he continued chanting, the shadows around him seemed to shift oddly, as though they were pulsing rhythmically. Not only that, but strangely the tattoos in my hand seemed to be writhing across my skin as he continued chanting. ¡°What is going on,¡± I whispered absently. ¡°Mommy, I can feel a familiar tug of soul magic from the chant of that man. I will record it for future reference and study. According to my estimations, he is likely attempting to catalyze the power of his soul to power some sort of ritual, likely aiming to reopen the Statue¡± I nodded as I continued watching. A few moments later, the man¡¯s chanting reached a crescendo as he crushed the vial of blood in his hand and let it drip onto the ring he held on the other. Nothing happened. Ha! I felt strangely gratified as I saw the look of bewilderment on the man¡¯s face. This look turned into shocked disbelief as he spit out blood, suddenly staring down at the three inches of steel protruding from his chest. The man in red armor ruthlessly twisted his sword, then easily pulled it out of the dying man¡¯s back in one smooth, practiced motion. As the fatally wounded man collapsed, the same ring of lights I¡¯d seen around Sol started to gather around him. Seemingly oblivious to this, the man simply knelt there, staring at the gaping wound on his chest. ¡°Wh.. why?¡± he cried out hoarsely, choking on his own blood. ¡°Your sacrifice shall be noted,¡± his killer answered coldly, then turned away with an air of indifference. ¡°Men, prepare to enter the Halls of the Eternal.¡± I decided I really didn¡¯t like this little bastard, though I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on why. I could tell he was ruthless and driven, two qualities I had always valued highly in subordinates of mine in the past. As I stared at the top of his head through the sights of the loaded crossbow I held in my bloody, trembling hands, I decided I would not mind putting a bolt right through his skull and see how he¡¯d take note of that. Must be that I simply despised those who were needlessly wasteful. Yeah, that must be it. As the light slowly faded from the wounded man¡¯s eyes, a blue-black flame seemed to burst out of his chest. This flame was slowly but inexorably absorbed by the ring that was still lay clutched in his grip. When the last of the flame was gone, the ring burst into light and a streak of crimson flew from the hand of the dying man into the forehead of the face carved into the mountain in front of us. Instantly, that bridge of light and fog materialized itself once more, and began to draw in the body of the man who had summoned it towards its mouth, which stood open once more. The man in the red armor seemed ready for this, however, and he moved his hand to snatch the ring held in the man¡¯s hand while gesturing for the rest of his men to draw closer. Instantly, the glowing light suffused his whole body, and as he laid his other hand on the man behind him, it spread towards him and the rest of the men with him. So, that¡¯s how it was, was it? Couldn¡¯t they have written this down as a game guide somewhere? Damn obscure game designers. Anyhow, this was the just reward for my patience. This was it, the perfect moment I had been waiting all along for. See, sometimes waiting can yield you nothing but a sore butt and a few wasted hours. At other times, however, the rewards can be rich indeed. This just happened to be one such occasion. As the group of men began to float up into the air and were being drawn towards the open mouth of the statue, I couldn¡¯t help but grin fiercely as I carefully sighted down the crossbow, then let loose. *THAAANGG!* *CRACK!* Granted, though I¡¯d been one of the top marksmen back in the real world, in here my aim was just downright crappy. Trying to hit a crack 2 inches wide from 8 paces was about as well as I could hope to perform. However, hitting a target the size of a head from 20 paces or so was marginally easier, and something even I could manage. Of course, I didn¡¯t aim at the leader¡¯s head, as much as I was tempted to. Instead, I deliberately loosed all the breath left in my lungs, steadied my pulse, then slowly squeezed the trigger and went for the jackpot. The mercenary leader¡¯s hand exploded in a shower of blood and bone fragments as the crossbow bolt literally blew that limb in a crimson mist. ¡°AAAAAHH!¡± came the animalistic cry of agony from the man as he instinctively clutched at the ruined stump where his arm ended now. I shook my head ruefully. Buddy, you had way bigger problems than figuring out how to tie your bootlaces with only one hand now. I must admit, the twitching corners of my mouth had begun tugging upwards this whole time while I¡¯d been sighting down the crossbow. Some of that had to do with the fact that it was the closest I had come in this world to aiming a gun at another person¡¯s face after leaving the real world. There was just something oddly nostalgic about the whole ordeal. That said, the far more substantial reason why there was now a big goddamned evil grin plastered all over my face right now was that there was a definite intent behind my decision to deny myself the great pleasure of driving a couple feet of steel into the face of the bastard who had been running me ragged these past couple days. Instead, I¡¯d imploded the poor bastard¡¯s hand. That meant no hand. Which meant no fingers. Which meant no ring. Which meant.. That same instant realization hit all the men down there, floating through a tunnel made of wind that lay suspended in the middle of the gaping chasm that yawned underneath their feet. The horror in their eyes as comprehension dawned on just what was about to happen as their bodies stopped moving forward, and instead began to plunge downwards - well, that was just icing on the cake. Their horrified screams echoed in my ears for a surprisingly long time before they either hit the bottom of the abyss, or simply moved out of my hearing range. Either way, it warmed my soul like chicken soup in a cold, clammy winter morning. Next to me, Reaver took one sidelong glance at me and shivered slightly. Meh, what a pansy. I was still basking in the afterglow of my perfect moment, when several dings rang out in my ear, and an unbelievable amount of experience came rolling in. Holy mackerel, it paid to be a mass murderer in this world! I think I might have gained a whole level.. maybe two! Just then, I was taken out of my reverie by my faithful hound. Well, technically not mine quite yet but I digress. Reaver tugged at my sleeve with his teeth once more, and I sighed softly before nodding to him and gathering myself to stand on my feet. ¡°Yes, you are right. Now we know how to get there. Come on, let¡¯s see what fuss is all about in this pain in the ass dungeon.¡± Very painfully and laboriously, I managed to get myself and Reaver back down. I searched the dead man¡¯s body who had been used as the sacrifice to open the way, and grunted in relief when I found a couple more vials of blood inside the chest he had. He also had a slim book, which looked like a personal journal of some kind. I stored it away for later examination, then took one of the vials of blood into my hand. ¡°Shia, repeat the chant in my ear, slowly,¡± I whispered, while I fished the last of the mysterious rings I had in my possession and sprinkled some blood on it. ¡°But Mommy, that ritual requires the sacrifice of.. Oh. Right. Got it Mommy.¡± I nodded as Shia seemed to catch on, and started to chant the words of the ritual as Shia recited them into my ear. Soon enough, with dark shadows dancing on the walls around me, I reached the end of the ritual. Drawing a deep breath, I turned my eyes to look at Reaver, who rolled his eyes at me as though to tell scoff, "Get on with it, showoff." Sure, I''ve been known to indulge in a bit of self-aggrandizing drama when the mood strikes it. So sue me. "You try dealing with 20 stone cold murderers with a single crossbow bolt and a damn useless mutt for baggage next time, then tell me how you like it," I grumbled. Reaver merely sniffed the air impatiently. No sense for the dramatic at all. Ah well. Shrugging my shoulders, I turned around to face the gigantic statue once more, and extended my hand in its direction while clutching the bloody ring in it. ¡°Soul Blaze!¡± I cried out, and instantly the now familiar dark flames sprang into life, rapidly surging into the ring while a thunderous roar filled my ears. One of the glyph circles in my hand was spinning rapidly while also growing smaller and dimmer. By the time the tattoo was completely gone, the ring burst into light and a streak of crimson light sprang from it, flying into the Statue¡¯s forehead. Immediately, I could feel my body being lifted into the air and being slowly drawn towards the now open mouth of the statue, where a blinding light came into life. I unceremoniously reached out behind me and grabbed Reaver¡¯s tail into my hand. As expected, I did not need to physically pull him. Rather, it seemed immediate physical contact was enough to extend the effects of the ritual. The mutt, of course, glared at me indignantly, but I ignored it. ¡°Buckle down, you bag of fleas. No way I¡¯m going to get stuck taking care of you.¡± Reaver howled in protest or excitement as our bodies accelerated towards that blinding light, which was growing more and more intense as we drew closer. ¡°I will not fail again,¡± I whispered fervently, and strangely, Reaver seemed to understand. ¡°Never again.¡± Then it was all dark. Chapter 21 - The Labyrinth of Souls Chapter 21 - The Labyrinth of Souls Author''s Notes: Please reference to the flashback in "Chapter 14 - Devourer of Souls" if you''d like a better understanding of what is going on in this particular chapter. Hope you enjoy! The scene that greeted my eyes was wholly unexpected. I couldn¡¯t help but blink repeatedly as I shook my head slowly from side to side. Had I taken one too many magical shocks to the brain lately? Something must be shorted out and smoking, else I could find no rational explanation for the sight laid out before me. ¡°Sir?¡± My head moved minutely to one side, where a grim-faced man wearing the all-too familiar dark with grey stripes uniform of the United Federation Army stood at attention, watching me closely. It was a young man, his features sharp and graceful with the air of aristocracy. His eyes were those of a hardened veteran, yet behind them I could glimpse the same bitter contempt that had poisoned much of my time in high command within the army. Indeed, no matter how many impossible battles against overwhelming odds I managed to conquer, the established cadre of officers had never acknowledged me as one of their own. Whether it was because of my unconventional methods, the insidious cunning of my strategies, or the utter confidence and disregard for others that coiled like serpent about my shoulders, they had always hated me deep down. Perhaps it was as simple as envy. I could see it now in the eyes of this captain who was forced to stand at attention in front of a man he would have doubtlessly considered far inferior due to his lowly birth, were it not for the insignia indicating I was, in fact, their superior officer. Usually, I would either pretend I was oblivious to it until an opportune moment arose and I could exert my full retribution - which in most instances became a final one as well; or I would mercilessly stab at their wounded pride until they bled themselves to death, all the while I choked on the mad laughter that bubbled up within me at the sight. ¡°Sir?¡± came the question again. His eyes took on a strange look now, one of doubt, of uncertainty. Whatever else, he hadn¡¯t expected my current reaction. Truthfully, I would have never expected such a reaction either. All I did was stand there, dumbfounded and mute, while swiveling my head from side to side to take in the surroundings. Dozens of screens covered every wall within this room, with individuals orderly and systematically manipulating holographic interfaces to control a host of buttons and dials. This was a field command bunker. Not just any command bunker, at that. It was MY command bunker. I could instantly recognize the telltale signs that confirmed that this was the same room I had used for that extended campaign down in the South American Protectorates. ¡°Sir, the message has been rated extremely urgent from HQ. Your orders?¡± the captain repeated once more, more slowly this time, even going as far as to shuffle his feet nervously. ¡°P.. play message on main screen,¡± I mumbled, still feeling dazed as though I were lost in a lucid dream. The captain nodded and turned around to issue a few commands. Shortly thereafter, the main screen within the room lit up with the red insignia employed by HQ to denote a code red priority order. This meant it should be executed with extreme prejudice and was to take top priority over all other outstanding orders. The message had already been playing through the speakers for a while before the words reaching my ears actually registered in my brain, and a wave of cold suddenly flooded my heart, chilling me to the bone. ¡°.. Must evacuate the area immediately. Operation Swift Retribution is a go. Repeat, Nuclear Strike codes are hot and operation Swift Retribution is green, all assets to clear the area imm..¡± the voice cut off abruptly as I found, much to my surprise, that my fist had already collided against the screen, eliciting a startled cry from the nearby operators and sending up a shower of sparks and smoke. It couldn¡¯t be. Impossible. ¡°S.. sir?¡± stammered the captain standing next to me, looking at me, then moving his gaze down my arm and into the mess of blood and shattered glass, then back at me once more. ¡°Belay that order,¡± I managed past my constricting throat. ¡°Pull back all ground teams. Prepare immediate air support for extraction at point Zeta-Nu-Alpha at preset coordinates.¡± ¡°Sir, we have strict orders to..¡± he never got to finish his next words as I whipped my pistol out of my side holster, raised it above my head and fired off three shots in quick succession. Startled shouts of surprise and alarm instantly followed the loud cracks, then a deathly quiet hung upon the room as the personnel within realized who had fired the shots. I ignored it all as I jammed the smoking barrel of the gun up the underside of the captain¡¯s jaw. A sizzling sound was followed by an involuntary cry of pain as the man instinctively tried to move out of my reach. However, I easily followed his motion until his head hit the console behind him and he squirmed and writhed as he desperately used both his arms to try to escape my grip. It was rather pleasing to feel the resistance created by the man¡¯s struggling hands clash against the unforgiving strength of my arms, then instantly scatter and melt away like waves upon striking a wall of solid granite. Slowly, it all came back to me with a peculiar sort of familiarity, the addictive rush of supreme confidence that came with knowing I was the deadliest man in this room, likely this whole battlefield. This poor devil didn¡¯t even stand a chance. The smell of scorched flesh and gunpowder spread out in the room, and the only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of my victim¡¯s impotent struggles and the bullet casings rolling across the smooth plexiglass floor. The captain finally seemed to realize he had as much chance of moving the moon with the power of his mind as of making my arms budge a single inch, and instead started to fumble about blindly at his waist for his own sidearm. Yeah, I remembered this little bastard now. The weaselly little bastard, I¡¯d tossed him out of the airlock while we were still en-route to HQ, 18,000 feet in the air, when I found that he had been the one to override my express commands and not only pull back the cover fire units for my evac team, but had also taken the liberty to report me as going rogue and MIA. One thing was to spy on me for those rat-faced pigs back at the Council. I had put up with it for a long, long time. It was another thing entirely to try to have me killed, then have the gall to ride back on the same command ship as I was in. I added just a little additional pressure on my arm, leveraging the pressure of the gun¡¯s muzzle against the steely grip I had on his sternum, and I fancied that I could feel the vertebrae on his neck slowly separating from the rest of his body. He instantly froze and stared at me helplessly. ¡°Captain,¡± I drawled out, in a low, clear voice that carried across the room. ¡°I have two questions for you. Answer correctly, and you will live. Anything other than a yes or no will get your brains splattered all across the map of Lower Asuncion Valley at your back.¡± ¡°Wh..¡± Just a few more grams of pressure, and even the Captain caught on. ¡°Y.. yes!¡± ¡°First question: Did you covertly gather intelligence on our operations and without the express written consent of your immediate superior officer proceed to employ short-wave microtransmitters to transmit said classified information to a remote site?¡± The captain¡¯s eyes went wide and his face went completely pale, but he could see it in my eyes that I was dead serious. Anything other than a yes or no would mean a bullet straight to the brain. ¡°Y.. Yes!¡± He panted out, then opened his mouth to say more, but I viciously pushed his mouth shut and resumed my interrogation. ¡°Second question: What is the immediate and irrevocable penalty for any member of the United Federation Armed Forces who is found to be secretly and unlawfully transmitting classified information during wartime?¡± ¡°Wha.. No!¡± The young man cried out. ¡°It was under the orders of the..¡± I must admit, I let him speak just a little longer just out of spite. When I didn¡¯t immediately pull the trigger after he began his explanation, the poor bastard must have thought he still had a way out of this that didn¡¯t involve having a supersonic round inflicting fatal tissue damage to his cranial cavity. That was on purpose, and would perhaps be the only thing I might feel the slightest bit guilty about, were I to ever sit upon the shore of a tranquil lake and meditate on my past sins. Then again, who am I kidding. That was probably the best part. He must have seen it in my eyes, too. Realized that I¡¯d waited for him to regain that tiny spark of hope in his own eyes just so that I could now ruthlessly snuff it out. His eyes seemed to hold a myriad questions, but chief among those was most likely, ¡°Am I really going to die like this?¡± Such questions are often the last to cross the minds of any who take the plunge into the great void beyond death. Trust me, I¡¯ve been there plenty of times. Whenever possible, one should dignify such queries with a definitive answer. Just the way I did. I pulled the trigger. There was a flash, then a wet THWAACK, and a correspondingly gruesome splash of blood, gore and bone fragments. I was professional enough to ensure that most of it ended up on the wall opposite from me, but inevitably a few drops and pieces splattered across my face. ¡°Lieutenant, let the record show that Captain Avery Magnusson willingly admitted to having committed high treason during a military campaign and was thus sentenced and summarily executed by the current High Tribunal on the field. Oh, and send Senator Magnusson my condolences as well. With a bottle of Le Forte, a late 1972 vintage should do.¡± An absolute silence howled within the room, with every man and woman in that room rooted in place, staring blankly at the scene before them. Their commanding officer had just executed his own second in command in cold blood. Not only that, he had blown his brains off all over the command bunker with no hesitation whatsoever. This wasn¡¯t just any junior officer. No captain would be able to command such a high position within a field operation as large and important as this one. This meant he would either be incredibly wealthy, influential, or talented. The fact of the matter was, the kid had been all three. He was a scion of Magnus Industries, one of the largest arms suppliers for the Federation, which had ensured that he received the best education money could offer, and had graduated with flying colors from West Point. He was also the youngest son of Senator Magnusson, a long time incumbent who was a second generation politician, with a vast network of hangers-on and allies, most of whom outranked me both socially and militarily. So, one more enemy. Take a ticket and join the line. At least I¡¯d dodged the pain in the ass official inquiry tribunal I had to face back in the real world, when most of my crew had been forced to admit that yes, General Michael Lee had suddenly pulled out his gun in mid-flight, shot the computer terminal he had been frantically working at for the past couple hours, then immediately and inexplicably, grabbed his second in command, Captain Avery Magnusson, by the throat. General Lee had then manipulated Captain Magnusson¡¯s body - mostly his face - to destroy all the furniture and decorations readily at hand, including but not limited to several lamps, display screens, chairs, desks, flower pots, drinking glasses, and even a waste disposal unit or two. General Lee had then dragged the now barely conscious and profusely bleeding Captain Avery across the deck, once more manipulated his face to depress the emergency air hatch switch, then unceremoniously propelled the still screaming Captain Avery out through the hatch, then stooped to throw out one of the Captain¡¯s boots which had come off during the whole ordeal. Only then had General Lee slowly returned to his seat and buckled on his safety belt, before closing his eyes and remaining still for the duration of the flight. Yeah, maybe I should have thought this through a little better. There were so many more sharp, breakable objects in this room than inside a military jet flying at 18,000 feet. Then the gun. Always save the gun for last. Ah, such are the regrets we must bear upon our poor, afflicted souls. Now, back to the matter at hand. I turned a cold, imperative gaze upon all the gazes directed at me. They all shrunk back like rabbits who had been caught gazing into the eyes of the big bad wolf. Just the way I liked it. ¡°Get back to your duties. You have your orders,¡± I called out with that practiced air of command, and they leapt to obey without hesitation. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.I turned my gaze onto the bloodless face of my new second in command. ¡°Lieutenant, by the authority vested upon me by the United Federation, I am granting you the temporary rank of field Captain, effective immediately. You will take command of operations as of this moment when I am not present. Your most imperative duty will be to follow the orders I leave you to the letter. Do you understand?¡± The lieutenant nodded dumbly, shakily lifting his hand in a pathetic attempt at a salute. Well, I can work with that. No time to consider any other options. ¡°Oh, and Lieutenant, I need you to prepare the following package for me,¡± I added, almost as an afterthought. If the man had been shocked before, he now openly gaped at me as though I¡¯d gone raving mad. ¡°S.. sir?!¡± ¡°You heard me Lieutenant. I need the package prepared within the next thirty minutes. Make this your top priority. Am I perfectly clear?¡± The poor man nodded numbly at me, then scrambled to comply with my special orders as I moved off to make the rest of my preparations. Forty five minutes later I was speeding along on a hovercycle, loaded with three times as much ammunition and with several units¡¯ worth of battery packs for the military issue combat exoskeleton I was wearing. Last time I had neglected such in my mad panic to reach Pasha¡¯s side as soon as possible. Although I¡¯d known it to be a stupid reason to go in unprepared and practically unarmed, my recklessness had gotten the better of me. Not this time. I was fully loaded to lay siege to a freaking military super fortress, let alone a tiny speck of a village of less than 10,000. Besides, I carefully cradled my secret package within the container I¡¯d brought along for just that purpose. Things were going to go very differently this time. On the ride, which I knew from past experience would last at least a couple hours, I had time to think about exactly what was going on here. The last thing I could remember was pulping that red armoured bastard¡¯s hand and hearing their despairing screams as they fell to their ignominious deaths. Then I had opened the way into the fancy pantsy dungeon in order to rescue Sol and retrieve any artifacts of power I could from the Arakian Monastery. Then I had opened my eyes to find Reaver gone, and I was trapped reliving one of the most god damn awful days of my life. What was going on here? If it was some benign type of test, then I would assume they would at least warn me about it. So, since they were not playing nice, I wasn¡¯t going to either. That meant I was going to blow some shit up until I really made someone¡¯s day and they had to show up to stop me. It all started when I crashed the hovercycle into the eastern-most advanced outpost of the rebels, along with several pounds of everyone¡¯s favorite brand of c6 high concentration explosives. After setting off that pretty fireworks display, all hell had broken loose. I set up several hidden supply caches and used my bionically amplified vision to zero in on their heat signatures from over a mile away. With the kind of caliber I could pump out with Katherine - my custom made .625 cal kinetic pulse rifle - it would tear through trees like tissue paper before vaporizing any flesh it met on its way, well clear to its maximum rated range of 2.25 miles. No flash, barely any sound except for a muted sonic boom as the superheated bullets flashed on their way to their intended prey, and it was almost like sitting at a shooting gallery. Every ten confirmed kills, I would use my heavily modded exoskeleton to change locations. With the camouflaging technology on it, as well as the stealth propulsion engines it employed, I was practically a ghost as I shredded their perimeter into bloody ribbons. They started to rain napalm on wide areas to try to flush me out or at least deny me cover, but by then it was too little too late. My overgenerous estimation of their numbers had failed to meet the mark, as I was running low on bullets across most of my caches by the time they started to slash and burn their way to me. This meant they were truly desperate, since they had always sought to keep a low profile and stay under the radar of the Federation Army who were hunting them. When I eventually ran out of bullets, it only served to confirm my theory. By then I had run through over 40 cases of ammunition. With the kind of caliber I was packing, that meant over 1200 rounds spread out over several hours. Yet, it was still dark and the bombs had yet to go off. Not only that, but the enemies just kept on coming, endless wave upon wave of live target dummies that seemed to have no end. Try to test me, will you? You little punk. I will break you. *TTIRING*
    Your Talent: Stubborn Mule has ranked up!
    Talent Name:Talent Rank:Talent Level:Talent Experience:
    Stubborn MuleF925%
    The mighty God of Rebirth, Judge of the Dead and Forger of Souls has granted you this special talent. Even in the face of all logic or reason, though oceans crash upon your shoulders and storms flail at your sides, you remain stalwart, an unmovable object, an unstoppable force. You are the stubborn mule. Strength +5 Agility +3 Vitality +5 Intelligence -2 Wisdom -2 Leadership +3 Luck +7 Resistance to charm, fear or other mind control effects +100%. Resistance to bind, stun, knockdown, and other forms of crowd control +100%
    Excellent. My talent had improved once more. That was not all, either. Interestingly, though I received no experience, the tattoos in my hand were revolving fiercely as I became the personification of the Angel of Death, descending upon that battlefield to reap the hapless souls of my foes. With each casualty inflicted, I could feel myself growing just a little stronger, faster, better. I eventually had to dump my exoskeleton as it ran out of juice, even with the backup batteries I had prepared. However, once I removed the armor, I almost felt as though it had been restricting my movements instead of the other way around. My body felt incredibly light, and my every motion felt deliberate, almost as though it had been rehearsed a thousand times, and executed to perfection. My senses felt alive. I could smell and hear and see anything within a huge sphere of perception that revolved around me. I fancied I could hear a single droplet of dew hit the ground after slowly rolling down a leaf over a hundred paces off. Enough. Though I could stay here and continue to pump up my stats until perdition, I was actually worried about Sol and Reaver. I knew where this place wanted me to go. I had a vague idea of what it hoped to accomplish. Better yet, I knew what I was going to do. I reached the clearing that had been so vividly imprinted into my mind long ago. I had dreamed of this place enough times that I fancied that I could count exactly how many trees stood around us in the dark places that lay between the tiny flashes of moonlight. I had revisited this particular scene so many times in the past, that it now felt a little crinkly and worn around the ages, like a picture you carefully unfold and gaze at for a few seconds before you just as delicately fold back into your pocket. The same little girl was still there, waiting for me. She stood in the center of the darkness, her dark eyes reflecting the tiny beams of starlight that managed to filter through the trees above. Her short curls hugged a tiny, adorable face that was scrunched up something beyond the usual fear of the dark kids of that age fell prey to. She was worried, like adults will worry. Already, I could see her shedding her innocence as she witnessed the various horrors of a war that had never been hers. She had lost all her family, and now she was deathly afraid that she would lose more. That¡¯s why she had come, to try to convince herself that she was worrying over nothing, that Senor Miguel would come and hug her and bring treats and everything would be fine. I closed my eyes and took one last deep breath, before slowly stepping forward, my arms open, and a huge smile upon my face. It was one of the few times in my life I¡¯ve had a smile of genuine happiness come effortlessly forth. No hidden agenda, no bitter aftertaste. ¡°Senor Miguel!¡± Pasha fairly squealed while rushing into my embrace. ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t coming!¡± I crushed her in my embrace, with a mix of raw emotions I had never allowed myself to show in her presence before. One part of my mind pointed out that it was likely the fact that I knew little Pasha was already dead, and she would never come back, no matter what I did. This allowed me to show her a vulnerable side of me that I never would allow others to even glimpse. In my mind, I could attempt to rationalize it, to understand this phenomenon. In the end though, I threw all that out the window. Because in the end, who really gives a damn? ¡°Pasha, I would not miss this for the world,¡± I answered feelingly. Pasha paused slightly while pushing herself off my chest for a moment to look up at me, her tiny brow crinkled in a suspicious frown. ¡°Are you really Senor Miguel?¡± I laughed heartily at that, and pinched her little nose. ¡°Pasha, who else would come out in the middle of the night under this kind of rain to see an ugly girl like you?¡± Pasha glowered at me with all the fury a little 11 year old could muster, but it quickly dissolved into laughter as she told me about her day, of tending to llamas and caring after her younger siblings at the orphanage whom she had adopted as her own. ¡°Ah, I¡¯m sorry. I remember you said this was important, right?¡± Pasha shuffled her feet nervously while looking down. ¡°What is it?¡± I didn¡¯t say a word. Instead, I carefully withdrew the package from the special container in my back. It was about time. Good things are good precisely because they can only last so long. Otherwise they would rapidly lose value and eventually become fatally commonplace. ¡°This is for you, little Pasha,¡± I whispered. ¡°Don¡¯t open it until you get home tonight.¡± Pasha¡¯s eyes glittered with surprise as she looked at the package. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a special surprise,¡± I explained. ¡°I promise you will like it.¡± ¡°Would you like to.. umm..¡± Pasha slowly withdrew an envelope from her pocket. I smiled at her, another genuine smile, one I didn¡¯t know I still had, born from deep within my dessicated heart. ¡°Of course, Pasha. For you, anything.¡± Pasha looked at me suspiciously. ¡°You¡¯re acting strange today Mister. Is everything ok?¡± I shook my head sadly. ¡°No, dear Pasha. This world is all wrong. But tonight, just for tonight, you are everything that is right in my world, and that is enough for now.¡± Pasha gagged. ¡°Ewww, Senor Miguel, you¡¯re going all soft and mushy on me. You¡¯ve gotta toughen up if you want to make it in this world, ya know?¡± I scratched my head, then nodded down at the unsolicited advice. ¡°Alright, thanks for the gift. I have to go back now. My sisters will be worrying sick. Oh, and read this when you get back home,¡± She hurriedly added as she shoved the little scrap of paper into my hand. ¡°Make sure to read it when you get home, ok? I¡¯ll get really mad if you don¡¯t. And make sure you come. Ah, that is, make sure you do what it says in there, ok?¡± Strangely, more than anything, it was this last gesture that reminded me so vividly of little Pasha that almost broke my composure, but I held on to the very end. I kept smiling and nodding as she waved her good-bye, then dashed off into the gloom. I watched her small silhouette disappear into the distance, then took a deep breath and closed my eyes. ¡°Enough. I¡¯m done playing your little games,¡± I grated out, in low and measured tones charged with killing intent. After a brief silence, a female voice, rich and resonant filled my ears, as though it were echoing from within my own head. ¡°Most impressive, mortal. Thou art the first to pierce the dreams of lives past quite so effortlessly. I am the Lady Elienne, First of the Eternal. I bid thee welcome to the Labyrinth of Souls.¡± I turned around to gaze at the speaker, wearing my most vicious, blood-thirsty wolf grin. ¡°About damn time. Let¡¯s you and I get this show started.¡± Chapter 22 - The Hunt Chapter 22 - The Hunt Author''s Notes: I had quite a bit of difficulty with this chapter, and it turned into two chapters, so it took far longer than I''d expected. Then again, I think my writing is slowly improving, at least in a creative sense if not necessarily in a mechanical one. So, that''s the good news. I think the story will get better and more fully fleshed out in the coming chapters. I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I will. ¡°Greetings, Mortal,¡± came the voice, soft yet crystal clear, imbued with a quality that tugged at my heartstrings. It was as though some inner ghost were telling me that this woman was worthy of my trust. Not only that, but also all my respect and even devotion. That was no mean feat. As a matter of fact, I naturally distrusted anyone, just as a matter of principle. But now I felt as though I were a schoolboy in front of his first crush, and a myriad emotions assaulted my mind as a furious scowl began to work its way into my brow. ¡°I am Lady Elienne, First of the Eternal. It is imperative that you attend me with utmost earnestness, for I shall guide your footsteps in this most perilous..¡± She continued to speak, but the rest of it was lost to me as a silent roar began to thrum within my mind, slowly building in momentum as it crashed time and time again against a smothering incorporeal barrier slung across my consciousness. At first, this wave of defiance was easily crushed into dust and scattered away with hardly a ripple. However, I would not relent. I kept pushing at it, worrying at it like a beaver gnawing at a particularly hardy tree trunk. Time and time again, I could feel the crushing weight of the pressure in my mind stamp my resistance into nothingness. However, every single time it would gather itself again out of every corner of my outraged mind, only with more momentum, more anger, more power. Finally, a crack could be heard inside me, and my willpower arose within me like a sudden typhoon as it rapidly swirled into one terrifying vortex, and it fairly crackled with energy as it pounded against an invisible weak point in the barrier. BANG. A resounding explosion rattled my mind as all the energy I¡¯d been accumulating finally broke through, completely shattering whatever power had been holding sway over me. *TIRRING!*
    Congratulations! Your Talent "Stubborn Mule" has reached rank F level 5.
    My lungs were working furiously as I silently fumed. A pathetic attempt to influence my will? It was the first time I had come into contact with truly hostile magic, as that¡¯s most likely what it had been. At first I¡¯d been understandably wary of magic and all that occult mumbo jumbo, but if all it took to break its hold was a silly talent for stubbornness, then I was all set. I slowly brought my breathing back under control as I examined my interlocutor with acute interest, though I can understand how others might have mistakenly thought I was sizing her up for a meal. This, of course, was utter nonsense. How could that possibly be, when this was likely a being of a higher dimension of power or a mighty guardian entity in absolute control of this space. The most prudent course would, of course, be to pay my respects and ingratiate myself to such a power. ¡°So you¡¯re the misbegotten spawn of a mangy goat running things around here?¡± Damn, I really hadn¡¯t meant to do that this time. I suppose I may have a bit of a habit of thinking out loud really nasty things about others which I might be better advised keeping locked down deep, deep inside, then tossing the key overboard. In the other hand, I don¡¯t really give a shit. She had just tried to magick me. Be nice to a manipulative little whore like her? Fat chance. Though of course, by appearances she was hardly fat at all. Or a whore, for that matter. The apparition in front of me was that of a young maiden in her early twenties, with an air of nobility and fine features that could not only be described as inhumanly beautiful and captivating, but also inspiring in a way I could not quite grasp. She had deep eyes that sparkled with a fierce inner fire, an ardent determination that would not bow down. Yet, her rosy lips were curved upward in a benevolent smile as she gazed upon me, just as a mother would upon a recalcitrant child throwing a tantrum. ¡°Mortal, it doth not become thee to besmirch thine tongue with such foulness of spirit. Thou must hearken..¡± I immediately held up my hand, interrupting her, ¡°I can¡¯t even understand just about every other word out of you, woman.¡± Though her expression hardly shifted, her lips did quiver ever so slightly. Also, was that a little tension I noticed at the corner of her eyes? ¡°Mortal, per your request, I shall deign to speak to you in a manner better suited to you,¡± She replied, making a face as though I¡¯d just asked her to swallow a turd. "In the passage of the countless centuries to which I have borne witness, the means to communicate through spoken language has undergone subtle yet profound variations, many of which seem unfamiliar to you.¡± I shrugged noncommittally, urging her on. ¡°I welcome you to the Labyrinth of Souls. You must have many questions, but time is precious. The soul of the child you seek is tied to the fate of that one,¡± she explained urgently while tilting her head in the direction Pacha had run in, a tone of deep distress clearly distinguishable in her voice. ¡°You must save one if you wish to save the other. I shall provide all the assistance I..¡± So that¡¯s how she wanted to play this. Huh. Yeah right. I lifted my hand up, palm facing her, indicating what I thought of that idea, then just for added emphasis, I added in my most infuriatingly indifferent tone, ¡°Not interested.¡± ¡°But to save the chil..¡± I rolled my eyes as I slowly shook my head, ¡°Please. You¡¯re not even trying. Here, let me guess. Fight shades from the past, save child and win, blah blah. Like this is some sort of fancy test or rat trap, depending on which side of the wringer you¡¯re on, and you expect me to be all deferential and eager to please. Well, I¡¯m not buying it. First of all, that¡¯s some seriously messed up interior decoration out there, what with all the walls full of people being flayed, decapitated, gutted, and otherwise butchered wholesale. That kinda clued me in as to what sort of place I should expect. Also, just what kind of benign power would require the sacrifice of a living soul just as a ticket to enter. Added to which, of all the memories you could have rifled through, you just had to go and pick this particular one. Probably some sort of connection between Sol and Pasha, likely a fruit of my own inescapable sense of guilt and self-loathing. Even so, you rub salt all over that wound, then expect me to be all happy that you¡¯ve deigned to show your face and talk to me only after I¡¯ve been raining on your parade all night?¡± ¡°But ya know what, I could have put up with all of that. Just shoved it aside and been a happy-go-lucky, hope-for-the-best optimist with a deathwish. I really could have, and all those reasons I just mentioned are really just excuses, stuff I bounce around in my brain and rattle around to distract myself, try and rationalize it for me and my overblown ego,¡± I added lightly, almost as though it were an afterthought. Then I paused to lift my gaze and lock onto her eyes, just so she could see the brutal honesty of my next sentence, ¡°But in the end, the simple truth is I just don¡¯t trust you.¡± That¡¯s right. I¡¯ve been through some pretty hairy situations in my life, and apparently I haven¡¯t grown any wiser with age and experience. What I have acquired, in the other hand, is a gut instinct that just tells me when someone or something smells fishy. I can detect that reek from a mile away, and often times that has been the dividing line between life and death. Knowing whom to trust. It all comes down to that, when you boil right down to it. That was part of why I¡¯d been able to fraternize with Zephyr, Sol and Reaver in the very short time I¡¯ve been in Aeterna, in spite of the crusty cynicism that covers my heart, running all the way to the core. It has so many wounds and scars, sometimes I think the old ticker is just one big scar, numb to just about everything the world can throw at me. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. I may not be the most sensitive - or sensible, for that matter - guy in the world, but I can smell fish from the other side of the world. Just like now. Forget all the fancy wrapping, all the flawless beauty and the smothering air of benevolence that seemed to hover about her like an almost palpable aura. I wasn¡¯t buying it. This chick, if she was a chick, was trouble. She reeked of it. Seconds slowly ticked on by, an eternity by anybody¡¯s measure. We stood there, unmoving and unyielding, waiting for the other to make the next move. It was almost like a game of chicken, to see who put on the grown up pants first just so we wouldn¡¯t have to stand around and stare at one another all day. Of course, I could have broken it off, and I probably should have, given that I was obviously the one in enemy territory. Still, I do so hate to lose. In any event, after an eternity or two, she finally cracked. It was minute at first, the subtlest of changes in the air around her. Her expression remained the same and none of her features shifted even a single millimeter. Still, there it was. One moment she had been all benevolence, kindness, love and all that useless crap. In the next she was all ruthless efficiency, icy aloofness. It was all just business. ¡°Very well, mortal. It shall be as you wish. This veneer of humanity wears ever more tiresome with every iteration, and in the end the result shall be the same. You have fallen within the Labyrinth of Souls, and you will wander its endless halls until your very essence has been consumed by The Worthy.¡± ¡°Ah, see? Doesn¡¯t it feel good, getting that off your chest?¡± I grinned at her, as though I hadn¡¯t just heard her refer to me as though I were some kind of new age health supplement to be taken before supper every day. ¡°Now I feel like we can finally begin to establish some sort of rapport. You know, take that next step in our relationship?¡± The only reply I got to that was an icy stare that could have frozen hell over. ¡°Look, we don¡¯t need to be enemies. Maybe we started off on the wrong foot. You give me the kid and the mutt, and we¡¯ll be on our way. Hell, if you like, I can even send you a few people who could use some serious soul scrubbing, or whatever it is you do here.¡± ¡°You seem to be operating under a misassumption, mortal,¡± came the frosty reply. ¡°Oh?¡± I raised an eyebrow. ¡°For any successful negotiation of terms, each party must have sufficient bargaining capital. You, however,¡± came the clipped voice, already dismissive as her figure slowly started to fade from my vision, slowly dissolving into the mist around us. ¡°are already ours.¡± Alright, I had to admit that was a very well delivered line. I even felt a slight chill invade my chest for just a second, but that was about it. I shrugged it off. ¡°So, that¡¯s it? More meat puppets dredged up from the past? It¡¯s gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to stop me,¡± I mused out loud, laying Katherine¡¯s stock against the ground and lazily leaning to one side. ¡°Gloat while you can, mortal. The more you struggle, the more succulent our feast,¡± came the voice from the air around me, and there was now only the faintly discernible outline of a pair of eyes left in the air before me, watching me with the first glimmer of something other than cold detachment. If I had to name it, I would say it was hunger. ¡°I shall relish the experience.¡± The world around me slowly began to fade away, starting from the very edges of my vision. Inky darkness was encroaching from every corner, squeezing what little light remained towards me. The sounds of the forest around me were also gone, and not even the rustling of leaves or the passage of wind could be detected. ¡°Shia,¡± I mouthed, not daring to make a sound. ¡°I guess you were right.¡± Instantly, my adoptive book-daughter¡¯s voice came chiming in right next to my ear. ¡°Of course I was right,¡± came the slightly impatient words, tinged with not a small trace of smugness. ¡°I told you the probability of an error in my deductions was within the eighth percentile range.¡± Children with their fancy talk, really. ¡°Yeah, yeah. So, what¡¯s next?¡± I replied, almost managing not to roll my eyes. ¡°Like I told you when we first entered, we¡¯re not truly here. It is not an illusion, but neither is it real. If my estimations are correct, then we are currently under the effect of a very powerful spell structure that allows an individual to enter a part of their own consciousness and interact directly with the soul energy around them.¡± ¡°Like a soul realm, then.¡± I added helpfully. ¡°If you must call it that I suppose you can, though that¡¯s a crass oversimplification,¡± came Shia¡¯s mournful sigh. Did all children get into this annoying habit of talking down to their parents like that? ¡°It does heavily involve the individual¡¯s soul, but the environment itself is not truly connected to one¡¯s soul. Instead, it is the product an impressive magical array which facilitates the projection of skillfully manipulated external soul energy constructs onto the target individual¡¯s inner spiritual consciousness.¡± ¡°So all those meat puppets I¡¯ve been felling left and right are all chunks of soul energy shaped by this guardian bitch¡¯s will?¡± ¡°Ah, more oversimplification, but essentially, yes,¡± came Shia¡¯s somewhat resignated voice. I decided to conveniently ignore that tone, and bravely pushed forward. ¡°So, the bait is set and all that is left is to wait to spring the trap?¡± ¡°Umm, mommy.. you should understand that the entire structure of these trials are devised in such a way that they would mentally, emotionally, and spiritually drain the trapped individual, feeding upon the energies released by their every struggle. Should the victim¡¯s inner defenses weaken enough, he would likely lose cohesivity as his sense of self slowly degrades and eventually becomes assimilated to..¡± came Shia¡¯s concerned whisper. ¡°Basically, it wants me to struggle until I flop over dead so it can have me for supper,¡± I supplied helpfully, with a huge grin on my face. ¡°Uh-huh. Umm. Mommy, why are you grinning with the big scary wolf grin again?¡± came the hesitant query. ¡°Because these poor devils have no freaking idea of who they¡¯re messing with. Get into a shoving match against the power of my will? Hah. The poor deluded bastards. They really think they¡¯ve got what it takes to play hard ball with me?¡± I sneered wickedly, the hair on my arms already standing on end like a wolfhound who¡¯s found the scent of blood. Sure, when you took in my pathetically low level, the appalling state of my overall physical constitution, and the destitute state of my combat skills in this world, I could hardly deny that I would rank right up there with plankton or whatever else served as the bottom of the dietary pyramid in Aeterna. That said, you really wanted to get into a clash of wills against me? Hah. I had a goddam certified bullet-proof soul, and I would rip bloody chunks out of anyone who even looked at me crossways. Soul-wise, that is. Hey, I AM Mr. Devourer of Souls, after all. They thought they had me cornered, trapped, when it was the other way around. At long last, I could finally smell prey once more, and it had awakened my lust for blood, for the thrill of the hunt and the glorious ecstasy of the kill. I lifted up my head and took a whiff in the air. Ah yes, there it was - the sweet scent of blood hanging like a gossamer sheet in the night. All that was left was to taste the sweet thrill of the hunt. ¡°About time they learned just who the real hunter is around here,¡± I finished, as the darkness finally closed in around me, swallowing me whole into a strange, weightless world with neither light nor sound. I had even lost the singular feeling of self-awareness a person has regarding their own body. I was merely a disembodied chunk of badassery hovering in the darkness, looking for some ass to kick. ¡°You look just like Reaver right before he goes to a corner to pee,¡± supplied Shia helpfully. No sense for the dramatic, these damn kids. No flair for it at all. Chapter 23 - The Flame Chapter 23 - The Flame Author''s Note: Between proof-reading it and posting it tomorrow, and just posting it now and editing it later.. Ahem, prudent aspiring author that I am, I opted for the latter. Feel free to help me edit out any typos so atrocious that they would burn a hole right through your monitor. In the end, I had to admit that they tried, they really did. These ¡°Eternal¡±, or ¡°The Worthy¡±, as they¡¯d referred to themselves, scrounged up whatever they could from the dreary confines of my hellish past and slammed it against me with all the grace and elegance of an arthritic elephant. I felt as though I should at least momentarily stagger and falter for a couple steps, just as a consolation prize for trying so damn hard. And try they did, that¡¯s for damn sure. They threw Comanche Plains at me, all blood and desolation, with the guts of that cute private - the blonde, the one with the infectious smile - slipping past my hands as I frantically tried to shove them back into her abdominal cavity through a gaping hole bigger than both her fists put together. In the end, I¡¯d marginally succeeded, and looked up to her still, tear-streaked face to realize that in my mad scramble to save the last scraps of her life, I¡¯d robbed her of the last meager measures of a dying soldier¡¯s final dignity. Damn, I¡¯d missed the last opportunity I¡¯d ever have to see her smile again, and I never even learned her name. I remember that particular experience completely flooring me. After all, it had been the first time one of the very few people I genuinely liked had died in my hands. Likely had a lot to do with the fact that we didn¡¯t really talk much, to the point where I never even found out her name. She would just randomly appear by my side out of nowhere wearing that damnably infectious grin, offer a few remarks that blazed like warm sunshine on a rainy monday afternoon, then she would be gone just like that. She had been special like that. I remember wondering what the hell someone like her was doing in a hellhole like this. I felt that people of her kind were destined to some higher purpose than spilling other people¡¯s blood for no better reason than being told to. That was a job for born killers like me. She couldn¡¯t possibly stay here for long, and would certainly not be fated to die in a grimy little ditch, sunk halfway to her knees in mud caked with her own blood. Definitely not. Yeah, there was a time when I was naive like that, too. Of course, with all the other wars that came after, while roving from one battlefield to the next, the blood in my hands had become so ever-present that it just felt like the color of my skin had always been that dull rusty shade of red. So, I¡¯d never truly aspired for anything grander for myself. For her, however, I knew she truly was not meant to be here. So yeah, I enjoyed what little of her company I could enjoy while she was still wandering around in my world, my self-stylized lower circles of hell. Secretly - of course, since I could not bear to let her know, severe vulnerability issues and all - I liked her. I even respected her, though I knew almost nothing about her. Let alone the fact that I didn¡¯t like most people to begin with, just on sheer principle. After all, most people were self-serving, self-aggrandizing, self-centered pieces of turd - just like myself. The very few select individuals who could make it past the unholy grinder that served as my personality filter could be counted with the fingers of my hands. That number had grown steadily lower as the years passed and Death and Misery become a constant companion and a mistress, respectively. Like the rotting flesh of a gangrenous corpse, those few people had begun to fall, one after the other, until not one was left. That first time, however, I was still a kid, still a rookie. I¡¯d been in real combat for all of what, two weeks? With the very first platoon under my direct command, I¡¯d decided to try a daring flanking maneuver to force an end to a stalemate that had lasted almost the whole time I¡¯d been deployed to that area - all of two weeks. My first platoon had loyally followed me straight into an enemy ambush, and I¡¯d watched most of them die before they even had the time to empty their clips. Including blondie, whose vacant eyes seemed to bore holes through my soul and ask me a single question: why? I silently agreed with her. I could not believe I was being forced to be a witness to this cosmic injustice. How could a luminary such as her be snuffed out in this god forsaken pisswater ass end of nowhere? I could not bear to search for an answer, and so for the next couple days I¡¯d drowned myself in alcohol and nearly gotten myself killed in half a dozen suicide rushes against the enemy lines. Most thought I needed to redeem myself or prove that my first platoon¡¯s deaths had not been in vain. Fools, all of them. I don''t think they ever understood. What I had truly been doing was trying to find an answer to a question that seared my insides until my heart lay in a crumpled, smoking heap. I was daring fate to give me an answer, to explain to me how it could scythe down blondie¡¯s shimmering, wondrous mortal coil, then leave a walking automaton like me with not a single scratch after rushing an enemy emplacement with nothing but an assault rifle and a belt of grenades. That¡¯s life, I learned. Never gives you answers, and instead just keeps slapping you on the face with more insufferable questions. In the end, we pushed the enemy back with heavy losses. Three weeks after, in some remote neutral village, a treaty was signed and our boys were told to pack up and leave. The mudfields drenched in crimson we had been watering with our precious lifeblood were thrown away just like that. Of course, this time it was all different. ¡°It.. it hurts. It hurts so much.. I didn¡¯t think, I didn¡¯t.. Agh..¡± Her ragged gasps came in faster and faster, her voice pained as it hissed out in between tightly clenched teeth. Another explosion shook the ground around us. Screams of pain rose in response as a mixture of dirt, shrapnel and blood came down raining down in an oddly rhythmic splattering. The acrid smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh assaulted my nose, but I hardly noticed it as I kept my unwavering gaze focused on the person whose hands were gripping mine in a deathgrip. ¡°I know. It will get better. Try to slow down your breathing, and keep holding my hand,¡± I offered. ¡°Lieutenant, I.. I¡¯m not gonna.. Ah, I¡¯m not gonna make it, am I?¡± came her faltering voice, breaking up at the end. Tears started to spill down her golden, sun-freckled cheeks. I squeezed her hand a little tighter and moved my gaze up to look fully into her eyes without a hint of hesitation or fear. Instead, it was something I¡¯d never shown her in all the time she had smiled at me, during these past couple weeks. ¡°Since when did you become the platoon¡¯s medic?¡± I spoke softly, a very rare, genuine smile curving my lips. It was an invitation. A long pause ensued, during which her expression suddenly froze into a disbelieving mask, then her expression gradually darkened, though her eyes finally glittered with something other than tears. ¡°Some.. someone¡¯s gotta do it. Stupid bastard¡¯s probably smoking a joint around the back again- ¡° She cut off as she coughed weakly, her whole body convulsing around the hideous wound in her abdomen. She looked up again and I could see flecks of blood coloring her lips. ¡°Knew I should have dismissed the lazy ingrate,¡± I replied softly, with no trace of humour in my tone. ¡°Use.. useless. Probably get stuck with some lazier bastard who¡¯s even more incompetent, to boot,¡± she replied, but in her eyes I could see the fatal question begin to dawn upon her, slowly but surely creeping in to extend its shadow over her gaze. ¡°Hey lieutenant..¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I answered gently, preempting her. ¡°Hell why not, I¡¯ve managed to get us stuck in this hellhole, might as well drop the titles and call me by my name. If we make it out, then I¡¯ll think about charging you up for insubordination.¡± Her eyes flashed for a moment with a sudden burst of emotions, cycling through them in quick succession in a myriad dashing colors before me. Amusement. Bitterness. Regret. Fear. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Huh. No blame, however. Impressive. She really was special, this one. ¡°Michael,¡± came her voice, and the words were slow, not tentative but rather deliberate, as though she were enjoying a rare wine. ¡°why the hell did you ever think this was a good idea?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. You tell me. You¡¯re the one that followed me, remember?¡± I asked, and both of us shared a bitter smile. It was the smile shared between two people who had suddenly formed a bond, not in a fickle interpersonal relationship such as friendship, governed as it was by the whims of emotion. Rather, it was the respect and honor shown to a comrade, from one sovereign entity to another, submitted under the banner of a common principle: that of perseverance under the harshest of trials. This staring at death¡¯s door and sharing a laugh on its face, it definitely qualified as such, no? ¡°Yeah, like a moth..¡± she whispered, her lips curved in a self-mocking smile. ¡°To a flame,¡± I completed, without really knowing why. It just felt right. She nodded to me, and I nodded back, and we enjoyed the silence for the space of a single breath. It was a peaceful moment, stolen from the clutches of a grim fate yawning its terrible maw under us. ¡°Michael,¡± came her voice, audibly weaker now, her gaze growing just a little more vacant. ¡°My breaths.. come harder now. Pulse no longer hammering. My heart, little champ.. running out of blood to pump. Not fair, it says. Still refuses to give up, but.. but odds are stacked against her.¡± I said nothing as I felt her small hands tightening around mine. ¡°I got a final thing I need to.. need to ask,¡± she continued, struggling with every word now. Her eyelids started fluttering down, blinking slowly, involuntarily, like a movie when it is just about to reach the end of its reel. ¡°Re.. rem..¡± She gasped, and her voice was barely audible. The light in her eyes had almost completely faded away. ¡°Remem.. Remember.. Remember..¡± I resisted the primal urge to squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to let this luminous soul before me fade away without a single pair of eyes to witness the passing of such a precious jewel. Though my eyes burned and a hand was reaching down my chest to squeeze my heart into a bloody mess, still I watched on, nodding my head slowly. ¡°I will remember you. Whatever else, wherever I am, I will always remember you,¡± I whispered softly. Suddenly, an intense light seemed to flare within her eyes as they opened wide, her gaze easily bursting through the mask of solemn grief I¡¯d built up, and penetrating deep, uncomfortably deep inside of me. It was then that I finally learned to listen, truly listen. Not to the noise lips make when the heart is trying to speak, but the unspoken words that filter through a person¡¯s eyes when they open up so wide and with a clarity so sublime, they become windows to a soul. I took it all in, sat there listening though she spoke no more. It was a moment of perfect understanding, and it shook me profoundly. She nodded then, and her eyes finally drifted closed, a gentle smile slowly lifting the tremulous corners of her mouth upward. ¡°Remember," she barely whispered, these final words hanging in the air between us. "You are the flame." Then she was gone. What? I didn¡¯t know what to say. What to think. I knelt there, holding the still-warm body of the girl who had just told me, with her dying breath, that I was the flame? The lesson was still too new, too freshly imprinted onto my soul. I could feel that there was.. there was something to her words, a special message that I should listen to, and come to understand deeply, and be moved profoundly. I¡¯d seen that meaning hidden deep in her eyes, listened to the quiet resonance of her soul, the beating of her stubborn heart, and I had known then as I knew now that I was the flame. I am the flame, and I will burn bright in the night. It wasn¡¯t blame, that of the butterfly drawn into the embrace of the flame only to be consumed to its very ashes. No, it was the radiance, the warmth, the spectacular delight of suffusing one¡¯s body with the raw power and vitality and might of a little sun bursting, aching to blaze a scorching path to the summit. No sky was too high, no ocean too deep. I would blaze, I would burn, and I would consume the world entire because that¡¯s who I was. I was the sun, and I needed no justification, no rationale, no moral high ground to shine brightly upon the middle of the sky. Burn bright, she had said. Burn, and don¡¯t ever let it go out. I sat there quietly as bullets hummed around me, ricocheting with a hair-rising scream, or impacted wetly into warm flesh. It was then that I realized I had, somewhere in between the years, the many struggles, the untold battles, allowed myself to fight a losing war. I burned only with the desire to spite fate, to defy the world, to bring it all down with me if I must. I had forgotten what it felt like, to burn across the sky like a comet soaring through the heavens, wild and free and unyielding. It was a stubbornness born not out of a refusal to lose, but rather an unquenchable thirst to win. It daring to hope rather than to persevere. I sat there mutely, lost in the ponderings that seemed to have no end, in meanings which opened new horizons I¡¯d thought long gone. Then I sighed deeply and shook my head ruefully. Damn, I¡¯d forgotten to ask her name. Then again, had I ever known it? Then how could I have asked her name? Wasn¡¯t she merely a product of my own tortured memories? A shade from my war-torn past? Then why wasn¡¯t she a hideous beast thirsting for my blood, as all proper ghouls should behave? Instead, she had become a true angel come to deliver me from the depths of my own damnation. The epiphany I¡¯d been granted had liberated me, cleansed me in a baptism of fire that lit a blazing hunger in my heart. One that had not been lit for a long, long time. A hunger to hope. Was it possible, for someone like me? Surely not. Yet, she had asked, she had guided, and more than her words that single glimpse I had of her soul had given me the answer in a way no arguments or logic could have delivered. It had been a revelation, a vision, a prophecy, and I could not deny that it had deeply, thoroughly moved me. Would that be possible if she were a mere projection of soul energy? More questions kept popping into my head until it was just about ready to burst, just like the nearing series of artillery shells raining in the space around me, quickly approaching in my direction. Right. When in doubt, shoot something until it stops bleeding. Then repeat. There is definitely something to be said about the therapeutic value of relying upon base born instincts. Thus, I calmly turned around and grabbing all the extra drums of ammunition and anti-personnel explosives I¡¯d requisitioned from the armory before coming, I blazed a path of fire, bullets and murder across that pitiful 10-mile stretch of jungle. Whatever this powered up state was, I had carried it over from my last soul construct. This meant that I could almost close my eyes and still hear every footstep, almost every click as guns actuated in the area around me. Through the dust and smoke, I could easily make out the shapes of the very few friendlies still left, and more importantly, all the goddamn unfriendlies that were crawling all over my ass. Ever have an itch that you were just dying to get at? That was me, scratching the proverbial itch, one 5.56mm polymer-cased cartridge at a time. Poor bastards didn¡¯t even stand a chance. With every kill, I could feel an invigorating stream of energy entering my veins, fueling a murderous spree that felt strangely distanced from myself, even as I methodically slaughtered foe after foe. It was like playing a game of chess, move by move, against an invisible power and with the highest of stakes. And I was definitely not on the losing side. I was the flame, and I would burn this whole goddamn world down around me. Chapter 24 - Who is Eating Whom Again? Chapter 24 - Who is Eating Whom Again? Author''s Notes: I got real hungry after wrapping up this chapter for some odd reason. ¡°HQ! HQ! Come in HQ!¡± came the frantic cries as the young man gripping the short-range comm device threw wild glances at the shadows around him. He could hear it still, the sounds of the screams as his comrades - his friends - all died one by one. He had tried shutting his eyes to try to block out the world around him, but it was useless. It only made the horrible sounds of the last struggles of those dying around that much more vivid. ¡°.. Get this bloody bastard..¡± ¡°.. Aaah, he got Blake. Blake is down..¡± ¡°.. Can¡¯t see a thing, where is he?¡± ¡°.. We have to run, run for your lives..¡± All the cacophony of voices intermingled into a dizzying chorus of anguish and fear. More than anything else, it reeked of fear. It only made the young man¡¯s hand tremble even harder, his voice also shaking badly as he screamed into the comm device¡¯s receiver. ¡°HQ! We must retreat! Ambush.. ambush unsuccessful. Maximum casualties, enemy status and location unknown,¡± he cried out frantically over the receiver. His eyes skipped from corpse to blood-strewn corpse all around him, then he continued in a hoarse whisper. ¡°You have to get us out of here. We are all going to die..¡± The young man slumped against the tree he was hiding behind. The rest of his squad had all either been shot down, blown apart or gone mysteriously missing. He was likely the sole survivor of this horror fest. All the response he received from the comm device was more static. He was all alone. More screams echoed through the air, the desperate cries of people bleeding their lives out on a patch of muddy ground, most of them just as confused and scared as he was. ¡°HQ! HQ!¡± More static. The young man slumped down on the ground, a look of abject despair on his face as his tremulous voice barely registered. ¡°Someone. Anyone. Please.. please tell my wife and daughter I love them. I love them very..¡± BLAM! A single short crack of thunder, along with a short flash from a gun¡¯s muzzle, and the young man slowly slid all the way to the leaf-strewn ground, now painted crimson from the blood copiously pouring forth from the single crater that had appeared in the middle of his forehead. Sighing softly through my teeth, shook my head slowly, a thoughtful look on my face. I had finally decided to put him out of his misery. Even at this point, I wasn¡¯t sure if he was merely a figment of my imagination or a complex mental construct powered by soul energy and controlled by the mysterious entities known as ¡°The Worthy¡±. After methodically eliminating all the members of this particular squad, I had been intrigued by the almost life-like behavior exhibited by this last survivor. The anti-personnel mines I¡¯d laid out were still going off in the distance, drawing the enemy¡¯s attention away from my actual location. Thus, I had the luxury to spend a moment thinking about the current situation, as well as to study this fascinating specimen before me. At first, I¡¯d thought they were simple meat puppets, mindless drones conjured up by the masters of this realm. However, the more I fought against them, the more lifelike they became. I realized they each seemed to possess their own individuality. Some were easier to kill than others, some panicked, some ran. Of course, they all died. However, as I allowed myself to examine my opponents more closely, I began to realize that they seemed to be far more than the simple automatons I¡¯d first thought them to be. Could this possibly be a clever tactic to appeal to my sense of guilt or compassion? Were they trying to rekindle the spark of humanity left simmering in the smoking ashes of my heart? Hah. Good luck with that. I grinned ruefully to myself and whistled a merry little tune while I descended from the tree branch where I¡¯d been perched while observing the peculiar behavior of this human-like construct. Ultimately, it didn¡¯t really matter to me whether they were soul constructs, meat puppets, or the very souls of living individuals trapped and summoned here to be slaughtered wholesame by me. This was a battle for survival, and I¡¯d carefully carved life¡¯s governing principle into my heart and mind since I¡¯d been barely more than a child: The law of the jungle. The strong survive, the weak are prey. Survival of the fittest. Simple as that. They kept throwing these silly scenarios at me, and though surely to anyone else but me they would have been soul-crushing in the devastating amount of abject despair and human suffering displayed, to me this was almost like a walk in the park. Just another day at work, really. Ah, perhaps with a few more zeroes at the end of the daily body count tally. Just that. Hey, I didn¡¯t even have to go through all those mountains of goddamn paperwork. It was like cherrypicking all the most fun aspects of my job, with none of the drawbacks. Moreover, I could still feel the intoxicating energy surging up within my body. It was constantly on the rise, and I could tirelessly pound after my prey without ever running out of breath, or my arms shaking in the slightest. Hell, I was lugging about two hundred pounds of gear on me, or about three times the recommended army standard, and that¡¯s even though I¡¯d shed all the protective gear. That wasn¡¯t to say I was in the least bit suicidal. Well, at times I suppose my behavior might be characterized as such. Still, the reason I¡¯d scorned all form of protection was because in this heightened state of awareness, I felt that I was near-invulnerable. Even when my battle-hardened experience and devious tactics failed and I was left in a desperate situation, surrounded on all sides by the enemy, the explosive power and speed of my current body left me breathless - all the more so my enemies, who were literally left without a breath, or blood for that matter. All the holes I drilled into them will do that to a man. Take this last engagement, for instance. After exterminating and looting a particularly useful cache of anti-personnel mines and explosives from one of the squads earlier in the day, I had set them out in a gleeful manner before extricating myself from the area. Just as the first shouts of pain and surprise began to rang out following a few sharp bursts of thunder - music to my ears - I had relocated myself to the other side of the battlefield in a manner that would have left any spectators speechless. Even I could hardly believe the quickness with which I was able to move, barely disturbing the ground underneath as I lightly pushed off, almost gliding along the air in an exhilarating burst of speed. Trees soared past my view, and leaves would burst in a flurry of green before slowly drifting to the ground in a tangled mess, the only hint that something had just passed through. At this kind of rate, and with the kind of control I could still exert over my movements, even if a full firing squad were taking shots at me, I doubt any would even come close to even grazing me, even with full automatic weapons tracking my movements. It would simply be a waste of bullets. I no longer required the help of a combat exoskeleton - not that I had access to such at my current rank in the army, in this particular scenario - as my speed could almost match that of a propulsion system, and more than made up in any speed deficiency with sheer agility and mobility. I would certainly pity any squads unfortunate enough to draw my attention. I was a bonifide Grim Reaper, the reincarnation of a death god made flesh, calmly making my way through my latest crops which were ripe for the harvest. Suddenly, I had noticed a flash from my left and before my brain even had the time to react and send a command to my limbs, a lifetime of combat reflexes had already kicked in and I was instantly twisting in the air while changing my trajectory. A storm of deafening gunfire ensued from the woods around me, a few of the shots actually coming close to grazing me even though I had changed the direction of my movement with almost inhuman speed. These people weren¡¯t all that bad. A cut above the riffraff I¡¯d been scything down all day. Just a single heartbeat later, a muted PUFF could be heard as a heavy curtain of smoke began to fill the area. The gunfire continued for a couple more seconds, then stopped at once in a well-coordinated fashion, and an eerie silence filled the forest. Meaningwhile, I was already plucking out my combat knife from where I¡¯d used it to punch through the chest of one of my would-be killers. Even during the confusion, I¡¯d been able to identify the location of several of the gun muzzles flashing death at me. After I¡¯d dodged the ambush and popped the smoke grenade, I¡¯d instantly gone for the one I judged was most isolated from the rest. My victim, a bearded man with narrow eyes barely even had time to register my movements before my blow expelled all the breath from his lungs. With a ruthless twist of my wrist, I crushed his heart and his weight sagged against me as I soundlessly lowered him to the ground. He didn¡¯t even have the time to get back enough breath to yell out his surprise. I reached out and grabbed a small pebble-like device from the man¡¯s ear and plucked it into my ear. After a couple clicking sounds, its interface allowed me to hear the sounds of voices speaking rapidly. This was high tech stuff. This device was not only an earpiece, but also allowed a trained individual to vibrate his own vocal cords in such a way that the device could pick it up and translate it into speech. It was a fairly difficult skill to learn, and only highly specialized troops could be trained for it, let alone be equipped with the devices. ¡°Did we get him?¡± ¡°The hell is this guy..¡± ¡°A freaking ghost.. can¡¯t believe it..¡± ¡°He¡¯s gotta be a deader. He¡¯s got to..¡± ¡°Quiet down. Be alert, everyone check your sectors and report,¡± came a cold, authoritative voice, cutting all the voices off. As all the other voices started to check in, it was deathly still and quiet as no one moved. I listened quietly for the next ten seconds, then grinned as I was able to extrapolate a couple people¡¯s positions based on the fact that they¡¯d been the ones right before an uncomfortable silence filled the comms. They must be the flashes I had seen near my current position. ¡°Bear, come in. Report!¡± ¡°...¡± ¡°Bear, report now!¡± ¡°...¡± With deft, practiced moves I pulled the pin from a couple of the grenades the soldier I¡¯d killed had been carrying, then flicked them off into the side opposite from my current location. They made a muted CLINK as they hit the ground and rolled around the dirt and rocks. ¡°GRENA..!¡± came the sudden shout, not over the comms but rather from a gruff voice that had shouted in alarm. He hadn¡¯t even said the whole word before a couple explosions rocked the ground, sending dust and debris flying into the air. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. Lucky toss, I had aimed it towards the direction where I had judged I¡¯d seen flashes earlier, but in the disorienting twist to avoid the incoming fire, I couldn¡¯t get a good bearing. Of course, I¡¯d cooked the grenades before throwing them, giving my unfortunate victims just enough time to draw the attention of his comrades before being ripped to pieces by the shrapnel. It worked like a charm. The sounds of footsteps, while not clearly distinguishable to others, were as clear to my ears as though they were wearing bells around their necks. With a cruel grin, I lobbed a few more grenades in several directions before rushing off to my right, the only place where I hadn¡¯t thrown any. That was the advantage I had here, on enemy ground. They couldn¡¯t afford to be reckless with their attacks, fearful that they might come under friendly fire. While I, in the other hand, could afford to burn down this whole jungle and not even a single friendly might come out with so much as a scalded hand. A series of explosions shook the ground, and their comms came alive with the sounds of chaos as men spread out in all directions to try to catch me. I merely had to follow their prompts and kill them off one by one. I stabbed some with my knife, others I shot down from the distance. Most never even saw who killed them. It was over in under 3 minutes. The last surviving member of the highly trained and specialized squad that had ambushed me was the comms grunt and likely the rookie of the whole bunch, since he had stayed slightly behind the formation and was bearing the supply sack along with the comms equipment. I had sat up on that tree for almost a full minute, quietly watching him with a thoughtful look. At first he had been frantically calling the rest of his squad, but when the deadly silence had been all the response he received, he had hunkered down behind this tree while gasping desperate mouthfuls of air and working frantically at his comms equipment. Truly humanlike, yet I couldn¡¯t recognize his features as any I¡¯d seen in my previous life. What was it that breathed in all this personality into this construct? Perhaps others might have pondered over this and other questions unceasingly, hoping it would lead to a way to defeat the enemy or successfully escape the confines of the Labyrinth of Souls. As for me? Hah. I was exactly where I wanted to be. After watching the disturbingly life-like reactions of the last surviving member of the enemy squad, I had finally put him out of his misery. Leaning against the nearby tree trunk, I stooped down to retrieve a pack of cigarettes on the dead man''s front chest pocket. Hmm. Crappy brand, but what the hell. ¡°Shia, how is it going?¡± I murmured past the cigarette I was biting between my teeth, looking for a match. This guy''s gotta have one, somewhere. I didn''t feel the slightest bit of compunction in rifling through his pockets. Hey, if I bite the dust one day, I''d expect the lucky sonofagun to do the same thing. In fact, I wouldn''t blame him if he cursed and spat at my mangled corpse if he failed to find a match. Ah, there we go. I lit up with a contented grin, and nodded my gratitude to the dead guy. Not bad, this guy. Not bad at all. ¡°Mommy, I¡¯m almost there. I can feel it gathering around me. The energy, it is so wonderful. Just like being held in Mommy¡¯s arms, eating book after yummy book - only even better! I can¡¯t describe it. I don¡¯t know what is happening, but it is almost over. Hang in there, just a little more Mommy!¡± I smiled grimly as I nodded, ¡°Don¡¯t worry Shia. Just let Mommy do his work.¡± Taking one last drag of the cigarette, I spit it out and stamped it out under my heel. Then I checked my weapon, ejected a shell from the chamber, and swiveled my neck from side to side until a few satisfying cracks resounded in my ears. ¡°Time for Mommy to feed the baby, I suppose,¡± I chuckled. All throughout this day and to this point, as I had kept hunting down enemy after enemy, prey after prey, all the while I had been drawing in more strength, like a tiny snowball rolling down the slope, slowly gathering momentum. It felt like soon I¡¯d become an avalanche, unstoppable in the full scope of its fury and might. The guardian entities of this realm obviously seemed to have detected this as well. Each scenario was more desperate than the last, the odds more overwhelming. This particular one, with the cute blonde, it directly took me back to one of the defining, and more traumatizing experiences in my younger life. In the end though, here I was, casually leaning against a tree, standing over the torn and bleeding corpse of the man I¡¯d just shot, blithely smoking a cigarette I¡¯d plucked from his front pocket. I could feel them watching, and this was my big, ¡°Screw you, get on with it. Oh, first let me light up a smoke.¡± They certainly were watching, and they were none too pleased. In the previous several scenarios, I had to slog through interminable hour after hour of pure slaughter as I neatly flipped the tables and turned a nightmarish memory or past traumatic experience into an exercise in gleeful slaughter. This time, they simply couldn¡¯t wait. They pulled me almost as soon as I spit out the smoke, and I was not even halfway through my ammunition. The strange darkness once again enveloped me, then spit me back out unceremoniously, with an almost palpable sense of malice. Almost in the very instant my senses returned to me, I could feel the chilling wind biting into my face. I slowly looked around to find myself standing on top of an icy cliff, looking out over a breathtaking vista of snow peaks and scarlet rivers. Off in the distance, I could see the unmistakable silhouette of the Wei Hao peaks, and that meant in this current scenario, I had just arrived to the site. Yeah, the sight was already familiar to me, etched indelibly as one of the most spectacular scenes of carnage I¡¯d experienced in my entire military career. I can still remember desperately trying to prevent a slow, steady retreat from turning into an all-out rout that would turn the steady streams of scarlet blood running down the once immaculate hills of snow into a veritable ocean, with endless tide upon tide beating upon the icy crags until they crumbled under the unbearable weight of all that human misery and death. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s this one. Of course it would be,¡± I muttered to myself, blowing out a long breath. I can still clearly recall the final figure for this day. Just one. One single day, when an overbearing peacock of a man, a buffoon, a parade marshall who had received his stars as part of a clever political maneuver, had taken it upon himself to finally break the long stalemate in our eastern front with one brilliant, inspired move. What ensued was a brutally quick and efficient slaughter of all four divisions on our left flank within the next 45 minutes, followed by a surgical strike into the exposed rear of our central command in the following 65 minutes. The rest was bloody history. I can still remember setting out with my own elite corps as soon as I received intel of the proposed operation, then only hastening even more when my objections over the comm channels were overridden by said Marshal. I arrived on site just five hours later, barely in time to turn a headlong rout into a steady retreat. In the aftermath, I could hardly swallow my impotent fury as I stared out at the rivers of blood boiling down the snowy slopes. 12,000 men from the four divisions on the left flank, dead to a man within the first 45 minutes. Over 26,000 more casualties within the next hour as our rear forces and central command were absolutely shredded. Then the slaughter truly began in earnest, as our entire eastern front collapsed and a disastrous defeat turned into an all-out rout. By the time I arrived with reinforcements and organized a desperate retreat back into defensible terrain, I could barely receive the casualty reports without my vision turning into a red, pulsing haze that screamed in berserk fury. 89,378 dead or missing. 35,440 wounded. At least the enemy had been coldly efficient, with the number of dead dwarfing the number of wounded. I knew many of the latter wouldn¡¯t survive the night, either. As for the spineless idiot, the marshal who had devised the brilliant battle plan that had gotten nearly a hundred thousand loyal soldiers of the Federation gutted like pigs in a slaughterhouse, he had used an emergency evac shuttle to beat a hasty retreat, using our most hardened elite troops as a screening force to cover him. None of those poor bastards made it, of course. Just more brave warriors dying for a truly despicable cause. I slowly closed my eyes and breathed in the biting cold mountain air, filled with the stench of gunpowder and scorched flesh. No wonder that bitch had been so confident while condemning me to death within this Labyrinth of Souls. How many individuals would be able to use their souls, the strength of their very wills, to clash headlong into the most nightmarish, devastating moments of their lives? One after the other, they would be plunged into the most critical points of their lives, when they were most vulnerable. Even the sturdiest of souls would surely shatter under such an onslaught. I could feel the ebb and flow of the darkness around me. It kept coming, on and on, like the raging tides of an endless ocean spitting thunder and madness at me, crashing against the shores of my sanity in a constant deluge that seemed endless. Any lesser soul might have collapsed under the unbearable weight of all those lives lost, blood spilled, regrets wound so tightly around the heart that surely it would choke, seize up and die after smoking and sputtering feebly. Any other heart would have crumpled on their mantlepiece, waiting for the merciful coup d¡¯grace. Too bad, they¡¯d picked the wrong target this time. You want to devour me? Just you wait. I could feel Shia trembling next to my chest where she lay, spreading an incomparably soothing warmth that spread through my limbs. It seemed to slightly distort the area around us, creating a strange effect where if I looked carefully enough, even light seemed to bend slightly. My baby, little glutton that she was, wanted some more yummy stuffs? I looked towards the snowy peaks of the Wei Hao mountain range laid out before me, crimson rivulets of blood staining its sides as constant bursts of concentrated fire and explosions filled the night, and slowly shook my head with a helpless expression on my face. Time to bring home some more bacon. Chapter 25 - The Art of War (Part 1) Chapter 25 - The Art of War The crackling of thunder could be heard from the distance, a loud staccato of rumbling explosions that had been preceded by intermittent flashes of lightning in the midst of the darkness beyond. Painfully bright pillars of flame arose into the darkening skies, and small sparks of light could be seen flickering on and off all over the curtain of black draped over the skirts of the Wei Hao mountains. That particularly dazzling glimmer of light over on the left side of that hill should be an M22-RTZ1 Multiple Array Missile System. My experienced eyes could easily distinguish the telltale signs of the narrow spread focus of its payload over short distances that made it an optimal weapon against minimally armored, closely clustered targets. Each salvo would be composed of 16 separate missiles firing in unison, each with multiple smart warheads capable of calculating the optimal angle and distance to release their payload mid-air and achieve maximum killing potential over the designated target area. In other words, a single one of those infernal machines could rain fiery doom upon any living being over an area of roughly 10000 square feet at a rate of four salvos per minute. Make that six if you did not care about the damn warranty. My trained eye could count, at a rough guess, about sixty of those down there, give or take a few dozen. One could almost mistake them for fancy fireworks, except for the deafening blasts at the end and the miserable screams as hundreds, thousands of people were blown to pieces. ¡°Sir, shouldn¡¯t we intervene?¡± came the hesitant voice from over my left shoulder, then cut off abruptly as I turned my head just a fraction and raised an eyebrow. Just that, but it was enough. He had been on enough campaigns with me to know what it meant. ¡°Ahem. Beg your pardon, sir.¡± I turned back to continue watching the ghastly spectacle unfolding itself before my eyes, the constant flickers of brilliance illuminating my face and making me narrow my eyes intently. It was all the reaction I showed on the outside, a mask of stone - cold, unfeeling. Inhuman. Inside, I was boiling with seething magma threatening to burst from my every pore. Even though I knew this was nothing but a simulation, a goddamn mental construct, I couldn¡¯t help but remember what it had been like. This had truly happened, and I had been there for every unbearable, maddening second of it. It had been exactly like this, though at the time I hadn¡¯t had the luxury to stand still for a single breath and truly take in the scene spread out before me. Back in my real life, what I''d done as soon as I¡¯d arrived and taken stock of the situation at a single glance, had been to rush off and frantically issue orders left and right, trying to accomplish the impossible and salvage the irredeemable. It was a lost cause, but I refused, simply refused to give up and stand with my arms folded across my chest as I watched 100,000 of my men get butchered to a man because an incompetent fool of a parade marshal - no matter if the simpleton was my own commanding officer - had to indulge in his own delusions of grandeur. Everyone wants to be a hero, after all. Which reminded me of something. ¡°Stahl, you have relayed my instructions to the letter?¡± I asked, with an almost casual, indifferent air. ¡°Ah, y.. yes sir,¡± came the unsteady reply. That was very uncharacteristic of Major Dominik Stahl. I had handpicked him for the job of being my personal aide a number of years ago precisely because very few things could unsettle the famed Ironmask, as the troops called him. ¡°You¡¯re certain?¡± I repeated slowly, with the same indifferent tone, my blazing eyes still riveted on the hellish scene before me. ¡°S.. sir, I assure you, it¡¯s been done,¡± came the response, even more agitated than before. Which was completely understandable, since likely no other man in this army knew me better than Dominik Stahl. Very few things could unsettle a man of Stahl¡¯s character. If there was one thing I relied on Stahl for, it was precisely that. Being reliable, dependable, rock solid. I have not had occasion to question Stahl¡¯s handling of my orders for a great many years. However, even without turning my head to look, I could tell that his whole posture seemed uncertain, hesitant. Even skittish, ridiculous as the term might seem when associated to the immaculately dressed and completely expressionless mountain of a man standing at attention behind my left shoulder. I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgement, but said nothing further as I continued to watch. Seconds ticked by, minutes. My own inner council of officers were starting to become anxious as well. I had mobilized every iota of influence I had to scrounge up any able-bodied - and many not so able, at that - man who could hold a rifle and pull a trigger and rush to this site. Five interminable hours later, we had finally arrived. All the men had been briefed during our flight, and I had been brutally honest about what we would find on the ground. We had all been expecting the worst, and sadly enough, we had not been disappointed. What did overturn everyone¡¯s expectations, however, was my own reaction. From their perspectives, I had just led them in an insane headlong rush to arrive in a desperate relief effort, only to land on the ground and suddenly decide to watch and do precisely nothing. We had already been standing here for the past two hours. Two entire hours, during which we had done nothing but stand here watching the very troops we had done the impossible to attempt to save simply die like dogs before our eyes. However, these were my men, and when they could not possibly understand the signals their Alpha was sending them - that is me - they took their cues from their Beta, Stahl. That was probably one of the reasons why Stahl had made the very uncharacteristic blunder of questioning my actions. An arched eyebrow had been enough to remind him of his place, but I had to admit this whole situation must be completely outside of his expectations. Hell, even the one order I had issued as soon as I¡¯d realized which scenario these bastards had dropped me into was had made even someone like Stahl stare at me like I had become a deranged lunatic before hurriedly composing his expression. Yeah, if I¡¯d known that¡¯s what it took to surprise good old Ironmask, I might have issued that order back then just to see that reaction alone. As to whether it would bear fruit, we would simply have to see. On the other hand. I suppose I should cut him a break, poor man. He had been loyal to a fault, if not precisely the most flexible thinker. Time to throw him a bone. ¡°Just fifteen more minutes, Stahl. We must persevere for 15 damn more minutes.¡± ¡°Sir,¡± came the crisp reply from behind me, all perfect self-possessed assurance once more. See, a creature like Stahl was not very difficult to understand or accommodate. He simply needs a set of rules, a concrete guiding principle or objective that he must strive for. Questionable or ambiguous, he could not abide by. However, point him in a direction, and he would tread water until he emptied the entire damn ocean if he must. Good old Ironmask. Thus passed fifteen of the most interminably torturous minutes of my life. Every single second of it, I couldn¡¯t help but remember the same impotent fury that had almost choked the life out of me back then. Even now, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth needlessly, I would spit out a torrent of fire that would leave me an empty husk, a burnt out vessel. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I looked up into the skies, studying them carefully, in very minute detail and with as much calm detachment as I could muster. At long last satisfied, I nodded once and closed my eyes, my face still upturned, as I parted my lips and let out a deep sigh, exorcising with it all the demons which I had kept suppressed during this insufferably long vigil. About damn time. I turned about and began to walk back towards my command tent with brisk, decisive steps, with Stahl following behind me smoothly and without a word. The rest of my officers followed, much less composed but still brimming with a quiet intensity that demanded release. ¡°Stahl, you are to take the 24th, 25th and 28th regiments and engage the enemy emplacements along the western face of the Lower Wei Hao peak. Make use of the treelines to cover your approach, but be warned that they¡¯ll have the rocky pass approach rigged with mines equipped with infrared sensors along most of the western corridor. You will engage the enemy at coordinates 223.441 and 225.477. I don¡¯t care how you do it, but you will crush their resistance and push them to 202.389 within the next three hours. This is vital. Understood?¡± Stahl stared at me with a shocked expression before he quickly composed it and stood at attention once more, before saluting me with a sharp, ¡°Yes Sir, General!¡± ¡°Dismissed,¡± I intoned, then immediately turned to the next man. ¡°Major Akatombe, you will take the 5th and 6th reconnaissance units over the Three Rivers pass and into the summit of Peak Inwha. You will maintain complete radio silence, and you are NOT to engage the enemy under any circumstances. In fact, you and your men will shed any non-essential gear, including firearms, explosives, close combat weapons or propulsion devices. Your sole responsibility will be to take a laser beacon to the coordinates preset on this device. At exactly 0230 hours, you and your men will paint the enemy artillery emplacement convoy with your laser beacon and immediately issue a radio distress signal. You will ensure that the enemy reaches a 90% casualty rate along that entire pass, understood?¡± ¡°Ah, Boss. With all due respect, what artillery emplacement? And how will we engage the enemy without any weapons?¡± came Akatombe¡¯s hesitant query. My eyes spit thunder as I stared death at this incompetent idiot. If only I could have half a dozen Stahls. ¡°Did I not make it sufficiently clear that you are avoid engaging the enemy at all costs?¡± ¡°Y.. yes Boss. Understood Boss,¡± panted the man, deflating under my withering gaze. God, why hadn¡¯t I just had this fool shot in front of firing squad years ago? Such are the regrets that we in command must be saddled with. Why didn¡¯t I shoot him while I had the chance, why? ¡°Dismissed,¡± I growled, and moved on to the next man. ¡°Captain Guevara, you are to take command of..¡± It was likely the shortest, most one-sided command briefing in the entire history of the Federation Forces. I brooked no contention as I decisively issued commands to every member of my staff. After two hours of watching their comrades being hunted down like dogs without any explanation as to the reason or rationale, they were now stupefied to find themselves in the other end of the spectrum. As I watched most of my men depart hurriedly without daring to throw even one backward glance, I wondered if others had it just as tough as I did. Did Mozart have to deal with incredulous cretins silently questioning whether he had gone absolutely insane? Had Alexander faced the doubt-filled gazes of his underlings while he led them from one victorious field of battle to the next? No matter. I had paid my dues while standing by that cliff, watching the unholy massacre being doled out before my eyes in impotent fury. I had been burning to act, to do anything other than simply stand there and watch as blood flowed like a surging tide down those pristine snowy peaks. It was simply not the time. I had yet to bide my time. And so I had persevered. The last time I had been here, when it had really happened, I had rushed off to issue command after command as soon as I had reached the ground. Though my efforts had been heroic indeed, the end result had been nothing short of catastrophic. The enemy had simply been too driven, resolute. Hungry for blood, yet cold and calculating, the enemy general had somehow known reinforcements were inbound, and had reserved one last layer of traps and sprung them when I had launched my brilliant counter-offensive in a bid to buy some desperate scraps of time to regroup and retreat. The enemy general, whom the entire Federation had later come to know and dread as General Xiao Ming, the Ice Emperor, had been expecting just such a move, and as soon as I had launched my tentative, half-assed counter-offensive, he had opened the jaws of a monstrous all-out attack that had nearly swallowed us whole. It had taken all of my tactical acumen and the precious lives of countless of my own men to finally retreat, bloodied and badly mangled, behind friendly lines. Thus, I had waited. Because I knew it was not yet time. I knew he was out there, waiting. Watching. It was a thing of beauty, now that I had taken the time to step back and truly appreciate it for what it was. He had to have planned for this from the very beginning. That meant he had calculated for the insane chance that our bumbling idiot of a marshal would try this same exact maneuver if General Ming left that seemingly vulnerable weak point in his line. The speed and accuracy with which he had struck back had been appallingly surgical and precise. The intellect and the patience needed to carefully lay out such a trap, only to find that it had contained a further layer for which I had ultimately fallen as well. The man was a bloody genius. He had become a hero to his people, later on. This would go down as one of the greatest victories claimed by their side. It stood to reason, since he had given me, the golden poster boy of the Federation, a bloody nose and quite honestly, nearly handed me my ass in the bargain. Only, this wasn¡¯t the same me from then. I had always been a sore loser. Even more so when I became a general and lost one hundred thousand men, more or less under my command. Thus, I had poured over every scrap of intelligence, every page and document, any and all information related to the Wei Hao Massacre, as it had become known. Happily, this means I know where every single freaking shipment of nails and boots would be heading, at what time and with how many armed escorts. I remembered every movement of troops, all the engagements all along these god-forsaken mountains. I had studied all the satellite arrays, artillery emplacements, missile arrays. Hell, I knew exactly how many shells had been fired at the end of the day, with a corresponding rate of accuracy to boot. In short, this whole goddamn battlefield was my bitch. You wanted to go to war with me? Sure, let¡¯s do this. Let¡¯s go to war. Chapter 26 - The Art of War (Part II) Chapter 26 - The Art of War (Part II) Something is not right. He doesn¡¯t know what or why. It is impossible to rationalize, simply because there is no logical way of analyzing such an abstract process. It is nothing born out of hard facts or evidence. Rather, it is that peculiar tingling sensation when one is standing at the cusp of victory, yet cannot help but turn one¡¯s head back from the glorious finish line because an insidious voice over his shoulder keeps whispering that it is all for naught. It is over. ¡°General, the 8th legion reports the enemy is unilaterally withdrawing all along the western flank with catastrophic losses,¡± came the exultant report from one of the officers manning one of the communications station in front of him. ¡°Sir, the 11th and 12th legions report inflicting heavy casualties on the east field all along the Yangtze River. They are currently requesting permission to pursue and harry the enemy,¡± chimed in another voice excitedly. ¡°General, message tagged URGENT from Colonel Zhao: ¡®Most honored General Xiao, the enemy is in complete disarray, no relief forces in sight. I hereby request permission to engage the exposed rear of the enemy on the central axis of the Wei Hao upper peak to crush all resistance,¡¯ end of message,¡± exclaimed the excited voice of his own personal aide, Colonel Yan, looking at him expectantly, a deep scarlet suffusing his cheeks in tremorous excitement. Something is definitely not right. This should not be happening. ¡°General, shall we strike while the iron is hot?¡± urged the same voice, burning with fervor. It was not supposed to go down in this fashion. The order of it was all wrong. It made no sense whatsoever. A deep furrow began to dig its stubborn way along his brow, his eyes narrowing unconsciously as he glared down at the giant strategic map occupying a large portion of the space in the center of the room. In this age of holographic displays and interactive interfaces, his strategic map was indeed a relic of a bygone era. It was a simple ink and paper representation of the Wei Hao Peaks and the surrounding area, with topographical information as well as his own minucius notes occupying most of the available space. Not that it was necessary. He had an eidetic memory, and could perfectly recall every single word in each one of his careful notations, detailing topography, altitude, flora, fauna, weather patterns, possible angles of attack, withdrawal routes, and a plethora of other relevant information. An ancient wise man once said, ¡°If you know the enemy and know yourself, your victory will not stand in doubt; if you know Heaven and know Earth, you may make your victory complete.¡± Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Thus, General Xiao Ming always made sure to thoroughly know both himself and the enemy before engaging in a battle. Even Heaven and Earth could not escape his purview. To him, it was the only sensible form of waging war. Else, why engage in a fight in which you did not have assured victory? It would be the extreme of folly, a wasteful gesture. General Ming despised being wasteful. Instead, General Ming believed in the addition of small numbers and the incremental multiplication of facts which would unequivocally lead to one specific outcome. What about luck, emotions, instinct? Merely the bastard offspring of lesser minds, a byproduct of desperation and a sprinkling of perceived good fortune. After all, though fortune may seem a fickle mistress, in the end she was ever even-handed in her judgments. Thus, Xiao Ming took pride in the fact that he had never been described as a warrior, but rather as an artisan, or an artist. Ever he had dedicated himself to the arts rather than physical exertions. His view of the battlefield was that of a sere philosopher seeking profound truths which were timeless and immutable. Others may attribute his undefeated streak of victories as mere happenstance. However, Xiao Ming knew better. He was a craftsman, and he took deep pleasure in slowly, exhaustively and systematically preparing each and every single ingredient, which he would in turn just as meticulously incorporate into the final product: the perfect victory. That moment when all those compounds and amalgamations came together into one single sublime victory, that more than anything was what gave him a skin-tingling wave of pleasure that had become his most savoured delicacy. ¡°General? Another message rated EXTREMELY URGENT from Colonel Zhao: ¡°Most exalted General Xiao, I must humbly compel you to grant permission for engagement of exposed rear of enemy central forces. Time is of the essence, crucial to act now. Complete assurance of absolute annihilation of the enemy forces if action taken now. 76,000 troops awaiting..¡± ¡°75,233 men,¡± General Xiao corrected absentmindedly, his gaze still bound to one particular location of the gigantic map which stood before him. It was a place where a plateau gave way to a deep valley right below the skirts of the Wei Hao peaks. Next to a red X mark, a row of neat, uniform handwritten letters read, ¡°Location of enemy reinforcements (93.75% probability, response time: 250 ~ 300 ms).¡± However, those weren¡¯t the words that held his attention. Rather, his eyes were riveted, as though trying to bore a hole through the ink and paper, on the very next sentence: ¡°Cmd. Officer (99.25% probability) General Michael Lee¡± Chapter 27 - The Art of War (Part III) Chapter 27 - The Art of War (Part III) Author''s Notes: Apologies for the long wait. Life was rather simple for Dominik Stahl. That suited him just fine. Perhaps if it were his younger self, from what felt like untold ages ago, he might have felt his blood boiling and passions erupting in a titanic wave of emotions that would sweep him up in a berserk storm of vengeance for his fallen comrades and patriotism for his motherland. Yet, such foolhardy days were no more. No, instead he had shifted his singular focus from the trials of a nation and dreams of glory, to the purportedly simpler task of following behind the footsteps of one man. Of course, nothing was ever simple when that man happened to be the most ruthless, cunning, brilliant and more often than not, utterly insane general he¡¯d ever heard of. It must be admitted, seeking shelter under the shadow of such a personage was not at all what he had imagined. General Lee¡¯s orders were seldom very complex or complicated. That was not what left rivals and allies confounded as one. Instead, it was the impossible scope of his vision, the staggering magnitude of his insight, and the sheer balls it took to even reach for such heights from a mere empty canvass. Indeed, General Lee worked as most geniuses do, on a realm an order of magnitude above that of the usually accepted and recognized standard of their time. He dabbed with his brush, one stroke here, another there. Sometimes slow, agonizingly so. At times fast, extremely so, to the point where everything became a blur and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Such seemingly effortless flickers of willpower and intellect served to create a vague outline that would only finish taking place at the very last moment, a breathtaking spectacle that would confound the souls of any immortal, let alone one lowly Dominik Stahl. Of course, the journey to such Nirvana was Hell itself. After all, when you closely follow the path of a blazing meteor, you had to be ready to pick up a scorch mark or two. Stahl found himself surprised at how often thoughts of stopping came to him, even now, years after he¡¯d taken up service under this man. Fantasies came to him still, unbidden, of just halting, merely for a moment or two, both to catch his breath and gain some distance from the incandescent mass of destiny that was Michael Lee. Maybe, just maybe, then he would not pick up quite so many burn scars, and not feel like an incompetent henchman, a sailor hopelessly out of his depth treading water for all he was worth in vain hopes that he would somehow empty out the entire ocean before it swallowed him in its depths and claimed him as another piece of flotsam. Not that he was complaining, of course. Such weakness, it was inconsequential. Stahl knew he would never act out on those. They merely came and went, like the whispers of a ghost alighting briefly upon the shores of his consciousness before being ruthlessly dragged back through the gates of mediocrity. That¡¯s all it was. Stahl may not possess that spark of brilliance which distinguished the best, let alone a blazing sun of radiance such as that possessed by only the few truly great. What he did possess, however, was a dogged determination to stay on his chosen path no matter what trials may befall him. They called him Ironmask, both ally and foe alike, and though he didn¡¯t particularly enjoy it, he did not dissuade anyone from using it. At least it was far more flattering than his previous nickname. The Hellhound. Why? Because he would not bark, not even glare. But he did bite, and once he did, he would never let go. Ever. Just like his master. Perhaps they were more alike than he¡¯d thought. Such were the thoughts flittering through the back of his mind as Stahl mechanically directed the deployment of troops all along the western fringes of the Yangtze River. Thousands of men trekked almost soundlessly through the deepening gloom, their eyes blazing with an almost primal thirst for revenge. Watching your brothers in arms being butchered like pigs in a slaughterhouse for half an afternoon will do that to any man. It had stoked a fire in their chests that would not go out easily, even if it were threatened to be snuffed out altogether, along with their own spark of life. These men would not break. Many were rookies, whatever they had been able to scrounge up at a moment¡¯s notice, but the pressure emanating from the silent profile of thousands of grim-faced killers awaiting their blood baptism was quasi-religious in its intensity. The fact that their commanding officer had somehow steered them clear of one devious trap after another didn¡¯t hurt such zealotry, of course. It was almost as though it had been pre-ordained, this rendezvous with fate down the barrel of a smoking gun spitting out death at a rate of 950 rounds per minute. Mines, infra-red sensors, laser emplacements, ambush sites - they had all been efficiently sidestepped or eliminated with equal ease when necessary. Stahl himself did not understand any of it. How his commanding officer had known - for he had to have known, for surely no mere stroke of genius, no matter how dazzling and all-encompassing, could achieve such thorough prescience - all of this information when he¡¯d briefed his officers on their missions was utterly beyond him. Then again, he did not truly care. Such common concerns were inconsequential as well. They had no bearing upon the fact that he was well and truly become a hellhound. A dog at his master¡¯s leash, hungrier for the kill than ever, and there was the scent of blood in the air. He fancied he could hear the slow, measured intake of breath from 12,000 men as they slid the safety off their weapons, rested the solid poly-carbonate stock on their shoulders, and lay their cheeks against the cool surface of their rifles, eyes staring intensely down the barrel and into the holographic sight. Soon. It would be soon. *** Major Akatombe was not what most men would call timid. Well, at least not within his earshot, unless they wanted to deal with all 322 pounds of combat marine badassery pounding the snot out of their silly heads. Still, as he drew in yet another shuddering breath, almost half-closing his eyes and clenching his teeth as he struggled to slow down the mad hammering of his heart, Ombue ¡°Warthog¡± Akatombe couldn¡¯t help but wonder just exactly how or why he had drawn the short straw on this particular totempole of shitsticks. ¡°Go over the Three Rivers Pass¡± and ¡°Climb the summit of Peak Inwha¡± was all well and good when he was surrounded by over 50,000 allied troops armed to the teeth, with himself wearing his own custom-rigged combat exoskeleton, sporting a vulcan gatling gun with a rate of fire of over 9,000 sounds per minute, SMART auto-targetting RZ-7 missile system and a goddamn flamethrower thrown in for good measure. Yeah, it had sounded like a great idea at the time. Now, what the hell was this? He barely dared to turn his head, afraid the enemy convoy passing not 500 feet below him would detect the slight movement, and decide to fire off a salvo of concentrated anti-infantry ordnance - just in case it¡¯s not just a rabbit - on his armorless, weaponless, defenseless, and frankly just plain scared shitless ass. He might as well just be naked, waving a giant flag that read, ¡°Make PEACE, not WAR!¡±, what with all the heat they were carrying. Or not carrying, which would be far more accurate. The only piece of gear they had been allowed to bring was a compound polymer laser targeting long range ballistic guiding system. Which basically meant all of shit, nothing. It was just like a goddamn toy gun you bought at a kid¡¯s store, with no hard, sharp edges or parts small enough to be swallowed. Because anything else would obviously be too dangerous for the poor little baby. It didn''t even shoot anything. All it would do is paint a target using its laser in order to broadcast the exact coordinates to a central relay station, which would in turn transmit said coordinates into the targeting subroutines of the self-propelled, self-navigated ballistic missiles fired off from a mobile weapons platform situated at a cozy, soul-warmingly safe distance away, like the Bahamas or some shit. Once in closer proximity to the target, the unique heat/radiation signature caused by the laser would unfailingly guide the missile true onto its target. Which wouldn''t do him any good because by the time the actual weapon got here his balls would likely already be shot through with so many holes he''d look like a bloody sieve. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. What had he ever done to deserve this shitjob? That was the question he could see mirrored in the eyes of each of his subordinates, all 26 of them. Yeah, 26. The hell, he carried more bullets than that in his sidearm, the smaller one of several he always carried on his person. Which of course, he was not permitted to bring along. He wasn¡¯t even allowed to bring his tactical combat knife, which for his 7¡¯1 frame meant it was the size of a goddamn machete for anyone else. He was simply not meant for this kind of mission. What the hell had the commander been thinking? Usually, he was held in reserve for smash¡¯n¡¯grab missions, smash¡¯n¡¯burn, smash¡¯n¡¯destroy, smash¡¯n¡¯kill.. Basically, anything with the word or even the faintest notion of smashing something to a barely recognizable meat paste, that was his job. All this ninja sneaking pansy ass shadows stuff, it was just insane was what it was. What would he do if he accidentally sneezed and suddenly all those trucks packing enough heat to blow him straight to the moon and back turned their deadly muzzles on him and lightly ¡°sneezed¡±? There wouldn¡¯t be enough leftover of him to even recognize via DNA sampling. They¡¯d simply buy the biggest damn box of fertilizer they could find and scatter his immaterial ashes. He¡¯d always known he would die on the battlefield, and he honestly didn¡¯t have any higher expectations. After all, he was only good for one thing, and one thing only. Smash things. Eventually, he would find something that would smash him in return. But at least he wanted a fighting chance. Hell, how about at least firing back? The hell was he supposed to do with this toy gun? Smile at the enemy, ask how they were feeling, and could they please roll over and die? Wave his miniature gun at them threateningly until they realized what any mildly experienced soldier already knew, that laser guided ordnance had the single spectacular flaw of being ridiculously easy to foil due to the potent signal jamming technology deployed upon any modern day battlefield. They were nearly useless, relics of wars of the past. What was definitely no mere relic from the past was the convoy slowly snaking its way closer on the rocky pass below. Laser batteries, large scale ballistic ordnance, mobile and semi-stationary artillery - you name it, they had it. It was like the christmas list of a mad god hellbent on razing half the world to the ground. The other half he would simply atomize. Less of a mess that way. Whoever the other side had, they meant business, that was for damn sure. Meanwhile, all his side had was what basically amounted to a toy gun. He doubted whether it could even brain one of those bastards down there, should he use his own brand of tactical brilliance and simply wield the damn useless gun as a club - it felt that flimsy. Well, at least technically they shouldn¡¯t be found out since they had shed every last scrap of gear that would be detectable through any readings, be that armor, guns or even a nail clipper. The laser targeting gun was obviously made of some high tech stealthy shit, but that just made it more useless. Hell, he''d rather take his chances with the nail clipper. Akatombe sighed deeply, resisting the urge to shake his head, resigning himself to fulfilling the task that had been assigned to him. Inflict a 90% casualty rate? He would have scoffed, but didn¡¯t dare. Instead he settled for grunting inwardly, the only sign of insubordination he would ever dare show towards that crazy, crazy man who was his boss. Bloody bastard was probably watching somehow, some way. Hefting his toy gun, he checked the batteries, then flicked the receptor on and began calibrating the signal. A uniformly flat line was displayed on the small screen cradled within his massive hands. Time to get to work. Shit reason to die a shit death for a shit job on a shit day because of a shit bo.. Erm, well, he was going to die anyway, so he might as well call him that at least once. Shit boss. A slightly exhilarated grin lit upon his face at that. Take that, Boss. General Shit, hahah. At least he¡¯d have a good laugh on his way to shit hell. *** ¡°Achooo!¡± ¡°Erhm, General?¡± Came the obsequious voice from my left. ¡°Would you like me to set up a thermal containment field?¡± One of my signature moves, a slightly arched eyebrow, told this obsequious toadie exactly where he could shove his thermal containment field. I was about to unleash hell upon the unsuspecting faces of thousands upon thousands of enemy soldiers, and this idiot wanted to prop up a heater? ¡°Achooooo!¡± The hell? It wasn¡¯t even that cold. I rubbed my nose irritably, then glared into the distance as I wondered if my officers were doing what they¡¯d been told. I was incapable of checking their positions as I had ordered a complete radio blackout until further orders. Usually, a radio blackout would not matter as much, since each trooper had a personal biochip implanted which would regularly transmit data to HQ. That was usually the norm. However, I couldn¡¯t help but let a grin of sheer joy light upon my face as I looked up to see the cascading tinge of green slowly suffusing the clouds above. The green lines formed a crazy jumble of zigzagging patterns, radiating a corruscading net of lights spreading out more swiftly than the eye could follow, blanketing the firmament all the way to the horizon. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Now, don¡¯t take me for a sentimental fool. I could care less for the fancy lightshow. What it meant, however, was that the stratospheric radiation storm had finally arrived. Such storms were randomly formed in the stratosphere, a remnant of the insane weapons of mass destruction unleashed in the previous world wars, which had in effect ruptured the atmospheric layer around the Earth. Over the decades since, major endeavors had partly healed our collapsing atmosphere at exorbitant costs, but the radiation storms that would shimmer into place one moment and vanish with as much warning in the next were a permanent reminder of the folly and hubris of humankind. Not one given to much philosophising, I instead rejoiced in the technical aftermath of such a phenomenon. Although the radiation was mostly rendered harmless to living beings, it did create a containment field that altered the polarity and scattered the spectrum wave of any incoming and outgoing signals in the immediate vicinity. That meant that in this digital age, for all intents and purposes and for a very brief window of opportunity, we were all blind as mice. And well, in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king. Especially if that one eye was a badass know-it-all prophet and harbinger of the bad, bad times to come. ¡°General, our readings are detecting atmospheric anomalies rapidly coalescing in the region,¡± Came the anxious voice of one of the men manning a console to one side. ¡°It seems to be a stratospheric radiation storm event.¡± A sudden burst of panicked voices rang out, all trying to convey urgent information vital to the success of the mission. Each and every one of them knew that such an event was one of the worst disasters that could befall a military mission. It would effectively cut off all uplinks in or out of each command hub, rendering all centralized tactical planning useless and strategic considerations near impossible. Electrical devices were liable to fail more often than not, and sensor readings became unreliable at best. Ah, it was glorious. Slowly, I raised my hand over my shoulder as I continued to look at that beautiful bitch of a storm brewing in the distance. Instantly, a hush descended over as everyone stood transfixed, gazing at my back. In turn, I gazed into the distance, past the once massive crags which now had crumbled into dust. My eyes traveled past the sight of a land laid barren, a desolate wasteland still smoking in its ruin, and into the deep shadows lurking beyond, where my enemy lay in wait. ¡°Xiao Ming, can you ride out the storm?¡± I whispered to myself as I narrowed my eyes, my upraised hand slowly curling into a fist. Immediately and as one, a loud collective intake of breath could be heard from behind me. That was the signal. Finally, and at long last, it was finally time. ¡°Begin the assault,¡± I ordered, and inevitably molten heat boiled over into my voice from the rumbling furnace of my heart. ¡°Unleash hell.¡± Chapter 28 - 234 Minutes Chapter 28 - 104 Minutes ¡°Eeeep!¡± Cried out the young communications officer, his headset clattering off to the ground as he was bodily dragged up into the air. His toes scrabbling in the air, unable to find purchase as they had been lifted about 3 inches off the floor. This was hardly his main concern at the moment, however. ¡°Repeat that last transmission,¡± came the low, rumbling growl from Colonel Zhao¡¯s snarling face, sending flecks of spittle flying onto the young officer¡¯s deathly pale face mere inches from him. ¡°Just one more time.¡± ¡°Eh. P.. Priority transmission from G.. General.. General Xiao Ming: H.. hold your ground. Do.. Do not engage. Repeat. Do not.. Not engage. Hold and await further.. Umm.. Further orders,¡± The terrified officer finished in a rush, squeezing his eyes shut and squirming away from his captor, who also happened to be his superior officer. ¡°Damn it, why?¡± Colonel Zhao snarled as his face grew livid. ¡°Why?! It is the perfect opportunity, we could crush their resistance and end their whole eastern campaign right here.¡± The panic-stricken communications officer shook his head mutely, his quivering lips attempting in vain to form an answer that would satisfy his oppressor. Just as he was about to finally get out something other than a wordless whimper, Colonel Zhao screamed in rage and threw him bodily into the holographic display panel behind his back with a great, resounding crash, sending shattered pieces of glass and plastic bouncing all over the floor. ¡°Damn cowards, I knew those HQ sycophants wouldn¡¯t have the balls to do what is needed,¡± Zhao growled under his breath, not quite loud enough for anyone to hear him. He knew what he had said was crass insubordination, and if one was to believe General Xiao, the Ice Emperor¡¯s reputation, he would not let such a slight pass him by unpunished. ¡°Sir, your orders?¡± Came a hesitant voice from behind him. His personal aide, Captain Yan Mou, had served with him before and knew just how volatile and unpredictable Zhao could be when riled up. Colonel Zhao¡¯s blood-shot eyes scowled fiercely at the holographic display map floating in the air before the both of them, his breathing heavy with barely contained fury. ¡°We have our orders. We hold position and await further instructions,¡± Colonel Zhao forced out through clenched teeth, turning his back to the map and squeezing his eyes shut, as though he could forget about the matter entirely just by sheer power of will alone. ¡°Yes sir!¡± Captain Yan Mou cried out, obviously just as dissatisfied with the orders he had been handed down. ¡°What shall I do about the forward assault forces that have been sent ahead to sweep the enemy¡¯s flanks?¡± Colonel Zhao cracked his eyes open and let a vicious grin twist his lips in a humorless expression as he sent his second in command a meaningful glance, ¡°You mean the SCOUTING units? They are to fulfill their duties as previously discussed, of course. We must maintain situational awareness, after all.¡± ¡°Sir, yes sir!¡± Captain Yan Mou swiftly replied, quite a bit more cheerful than before, then turned around and left to issue a flurry of orders. This would be a victory that would go down in history, a new martial legend for the ages. Damn if he would let a coward rob him of his glory. The assault forces, comprising roughly 40% of all the forces under his command, had already begun to covertly spread out to both sides of the enemy¡¯s central column as they retreated under the constant harassment of long-range artillery. The rest of his army would hold position as ordered, but when that fool in HQ finally found his courage and saw the golden opportunity presented to them for what it was and at long last gave the command to attack, Colonel Zhao would be there, ready to immediately pounce on all sides of the enemy. It would be a glorious bloodbath, and he would become the hero he was always meant to be. *** ¡°Report,¡± came the cool, emotionless voice within the command bunker. Immediately, a man stood at attention and responded, ¡°General, all elements proceeding according to the plan. Enemy forces continue to retreat sustaining heavy losses. Their reinforcements continue to hold their ground upon the Glass Plateau. No major troop movement reported.¡± General Xiao did not twitch so much as an eyelid as he glanced to one of the displays to the side of the room. ¡°Report on the White Tiger forces.¡± Another man immediately stepped forward. ¡°Colonel Zhao has acknowledged the transmission and has ordered his forces to stand their ground, as instructed.¡± Xiao Ming¡¯s eyes did not waver in the slightest as they gravitated, almost irresistibly so, back towards the single spot that had been the center of his near undivided attention for the past few hours. It was as though he could see more than the simple words written on that piece of the map, reading ¡°General Michael Lee.¡± The ultimate wildcard, he had known he would eventually have to crush this General Lee. He had carefully laid out his plans months in advance, all for this one critical moment. And yet.. Yet, this Michael Lee refused to act. His stubborn inaction had in turn forced Xiao Ming to halt his own plans on the spot. Thus, they had stood at an impasse for these past few interminable hours. Beads of sweat could be seen flowing freely down the foreheads of every man inside the room, with the sole exception of Xiao Ming. This was still his battle to lose, and he refused to let that happen. His unwavering gaze seemed to reflect the resoluteness of his will. Though his gaze was still composed and his movements measured, behind the icy mask of his face his mind was constantly racing, considering a thousand thousand different moves and counter-moves which only kept multiplying as time ticked on. Suddenly, a glimmer of light crossed his eyes as they narrowed ever so slightly, accompanied by the smallest hint of a wrinkle in his forehead. Though barely noticeable in anyone other than the Ice Emperor, such a ripple in his calm exterior could only mean he¡¯d found an unpleasant surprise, an unexpected hitch in his plans. ¡°Deploy wide-spectrum scan of sector 23, pan from grid 19,23 to grid 20,45.¡± General Xiao suddenly instructed without even turning his head to look at the display panel, his voice flat yet deadly. ¡°Yes sir!¡± Moments later, a collective indrawn breath could be heard, and the same voice responded with a voice colored with equal parts surprise and puzzlement. ¡°General, reporting unusual allied troop movement along grids 20.30, 20.31, and 20.32. My readings show that they are scouting forces sent on a reconnaissance operation by Colonel Zhao¡¯s Red Tiger Forces. However, there are simply too many readings. It must be a malfunction in my systems. Allow me to check my instru..¡± ¡°That will not be necessary. Immediately send a coded transmission to Colonel Zhao. Tell him he is to cease the advance immediately and pull back his forces to the pre-arranged coordinates within the next ten minutes. If I see a single blip on the radar I will have him court-martialed for treason and executed before the sun rises.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand sir. Our readings show the full contingent of Colonel Zhao back at their stations,¡± came a junior officer¡¯s hesitant reply. ¡°It is not your job to understand, Captain Liu Hanbei, but to obey orders,¡± Xiao Ming pointed out icily, his eyes showing a hint of dissatisfaction. Of course they would not understand that with his prodigious memory, he had at his disposal, as though they were lying right in front of him, every last word of the psychological profiles, medical histories and intelligence reports for every single officer under his command. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. A lifetime underachiever who hadn¡¯t managed to distinguish himself in his entire academic or military career, Liu Hanbei¡¯s sole virtue could be said to have been born from a mildly successful micro-textiles magnate who had practically bought his son¡¯s commission in the army, thus serving to partly finance Xiao Ming¡¯s own meteoric rise in the bureaucracy. 240 million Imperial credits had bought him the right to stand in this room, but nothing else. He was forever destined to remain a mere ornament, not even a footnote in the annals of the war. Not so with one Colonel Zhao Luqing. Overly aggressive and much too ambitious for the minor amount of talent and the slightly more pronounced martial prowess he actually possessed, Xiao Ming had long ago known that eventually this man had a 72% chance of becoming a liability to his prolonged success as he continuously stuffed his greedy maw with meals much too rich and too hard for him to actually digest. Granted, Colonel Zhao had done very well for himself, rising from the dredges of society - a rank D citizen, according to his own personal intelligence staff¡¯s reports - to enlist in the army as a mere recruit, then moving up the chain of command with a seemingly dazzling succession of small military victories. He had even managed to buy himself an adoption into a decent family before ascending to the rank of a senior officer. What the official reports did not state, of course, was his penchant for overreaching, ignoring key vulnerabilities and recklessly gambling with the resources at his command. So far, he¡¯d been successful, if nominally so. However, from Xiao Ming''s elevated perspective it could only be described as nothing but a series of clumsy, desperate efforts that did nothing but point out with glaring finality the man¡¯s lack of talent to ascend up the ranks by other, more discerning and prudent means. Case in point, the simpleton had thought to outwit him, his obvious superior in every aspect, and once more attempt to hoard what little glory he could at the expense of an unjustifiable risk to his army. General Xiao narrowed his eyes as he determined then and there that it was time for Colonel Zhao to meet a glorious, early demise at the hands of the enemy - as soon as the battle was decided and all outside factors safely eliminated. He had, after all, no use for pawns that would not obey the king¡¯s commands. All of this took but a single second while Liu Hanbei gaped stupidly at him before stiffly saluting and turning around to convey the orders to the communications staff. He got halfway through the message before the lights suddenly flickered within the command room. The numerous screens blurred for a moment before quickly stabilizing themselves, but Xiao Ming¡¯s own pulse had already begun to accelerate rapidly with no sign of slowing down. On the contrary, he finally abandoned the spot he had commanded before his map to briskly move to one of the display consoles, his hand clenching into a fist and his heart spasming in his chest. He¡¯d had this feeling of unease, of impending doom hanging over him for this whole vigil, and this small deviation from his plans felt far more disturbing than what it likely actually warranted. His mind soothed him by citing a myriad factors and reasons by which he could banish this restlessness, this unease. His shuddering heart told him otherwise. ¡°Report,¡± Xiao Ming hissed, ever a man of few words. ¡°Sir, it¡¯s a stratospheric radiation storm. It¡¯s right on top of us! It materialized out of nowhere.¡± Came the man¡¯s helpless cry. ¡°Comm status.¡± ¡°Sir. Comms are.. They¡¯re down. I can¡¯t hail them at all. We can¡¯t reach any of the detached command outposts.¡± ¡°Sensors.¡± ¡°Readings are erratic. Signal won¡¯t last much longer. We¡¯ll be completely in the dark within the next three minutes, sir.¡± Colonel Yan stepped forward, clearly sensing something amiss with his commander. ¡°Sir, we have won the field and the enemy is fleeing. The Black Tusk Forces¡¯ last transmission reported as having almost reached the ford at the Yangtze River. They will pincer the enemy forces along with the pursuing White Phoenix Army. Even the enemy reinforcements should be dealt with by Colonel Zhao¡¯s Red Tiger Forces lying in ambush by the lower Wei Hao peaks as soon as they overextend in order to rescue their comrades.¡± ¡°We have won, sir!¡± Affirmed Colonel Yan with an ecstatic expression. ¡°If anything, this storm can only help our case. Perhaps it is Heaven which has decreed our victory.¡± ¡°The Heavens are fickle whereas my will is not. Vigilance is the handmaiden of victory, Colonel,¡± Xiao Ming stated coldly. Logically speaking, he should be celebrating, and yet. Yet, he still felt it was all wrong, and while he prided himself on being a thoroughly pragmatic, logic-driven man, that didn¡¯t prevent the hairs on his neck from standing while he turned around yet again, to glare at his personal map. He could still attempt to send a messenger to physically deliver the message to Colonel Zhao, but by then it would be too late to do any good, while at the same time running the risk of exposing the Red Tiger Army¡¯s position. His intellect told him that he was simply being a victim of his own successes, too used to controlling every single minutiae upon the field of battle. They had won a crushing victory today, and the possibility of the enemy overturning such overwhelming odds was simply astronomical. Indeed, his men were simply waiting for the enemy to step into the devious trap he''d laid. Still.. ¡°Estimated duration of the atmospheric anomaly?¡± Xiao Ming asked, his eyes already losing focus as his mind worked furiously, examining each possible eventuality and its outcome in light of this unexpected new element. ¡°Sir, given the random nature of such anomalies. For all we know, it could be anywhere from thirty minutes to half a day. We simply have no way of knowing,¡± responded a voice hesitantly. Of course, Xiao Ming already knew that. Still, the words had come to his lips unbidden, and he had given voice to the question burning within his mind without a thought. Xiao Ming thoroughly abhorred asking obvious questions. It was wasteful. And yet.. How long would these storm clouds continue to churn and rumble ominously over his victory? How long? *** ¡°234 minutes,¡± I mumbled absently to myself while staring over the horizon, as countless plumes of smoke could be seen trailing, almost lazily so, amidst the sky. Only a faint roar could be heard echoing in the air, the only remnants of the hideous, glorious howl of 42 mid-range ballistic missiles launching into the sky simultaneously. The whirring of quadcannon laser batteries was almost soothing in contrast, as they swiftly moved to acquire their targets. 234 minutes. My men had instantly leaped into action as soon as I had given the order to initiate operations and open fire. That would be the signal for all fronts to proceed with the plan. For the next 234 minutes, which was the frame of time the storm would persist for before dissipating, this entire battlefield would be my bitch and there was nothing they could do to stop my rampage. Sure, most of our troops were bloodied and routing, I was hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned, but during these next 234 minutes I would rain hell upon these poor souls and rip me a fresh, bloody page in history dedicated all to me. Because I do so love to win. Heads up, bitches. Chapter 29 - Almost.. Chapter 28 - Almost.. Author''s Notes: This one will be a far lengthier rant than usual, so feel free to scroll down to the abridged version below. For starters, I''d like to formally apologize to any reader who is faithfully following the story. I am truly grateful for the amazing compliment that it is, the fact that you will spend some of your valuable time reading and appreciating my story. That''s what I''ve come to realize due to the comments from a few people whose IDs I readily recognize as regularly visiting and commenting upon these pages. It seems like they truly do appreciate the story, which was somewhat of a surprise to me. Initially and for the most part even up to this point, I''ve written mainly for my own fulfillment. Thus, I haven''t truly felt obliged or pressured to stick to a regular release schedule. I''d write when I had the time to spare and the drive to do so. The startling realization that some readers may be anxiously awaiting the next installment of my story was surprising and humbling at the same time. I will thus attempt to squeeze a few more hours and an additional iota of inspiration to keep a more regular schedule. To be honest to all the readers, and since many of you are likely aspiring writers just like me, inspiration strikes at odd times and follows its own tempo. It is truly difficult to write when you don''t feel like you are giving it your very best. I''m told that''s one of the dividing lines between an amateurish, run-of-the-mill writing aficionado and a professional. Hey, I''m no professional. I know I have many, many flaws. One of those is the difficulty in forcing myself to write when I''m faced with the proverbial writer''s block. It is really, really hard. By the time I manage to overcome it, days or weeks will have passed. I will attempt, for the sake of the readers, to be just a little more valiant in combating this old foe! Real life demands, on the other hand, cannot be helped since this is a mere hobby rather than an occupation. That said, I am not immune to praise or bribery. Thus, it follows that the more input and comments I get, not only all the better for it the overall story will be, but even the frequency of releases will follow the same upward trend. Thus, and running the risk of sounding like a shameless self-promoting brat, I will promise to write at least one chapter on every week that a new review has been posted on my main fiction page. Hell, perhaps even multiple releases on that same week. It doesn''t have to be colorful, eloquent or insincere. I would just like to see what different people think of my writing thus far. It really provides needed inspiration. Besides, it does tickle my ego, just a tiny bit. TL: DR Now, on to the story. Enjoy! Glass Plateau, Shen Tien Region. Local Time: 20:22 Quadcannon laser batteries were heavy, unwieldy and near impossible to maneuver in an active field of battle. This was an unavoidable outcome given their sheer mass, added to which their internal components required careful, subtle calibrations in order to ensure operational safety. This precluded the possibility of movement and immediate operation, given the various checks and crosschecks they needed to go through to ensure not only optimal operational power, but the possibility of an overload which would result in a core meltdown and ensuing catastrophic blast. Laser battery operators had a common motto they stood by: You kill by the cannon, die by the cannon. Even with this obvious flaw, laser batteries were still one of the deadliest means of inflicting casualties upon an enemy force. A missile weapon with an effective explosive range ten times greater than that of a laser cannon barrage would still only be able to inflict a 50% to 75% casualty rate upon their effective blast radius. The kinetic impact and heat blast dissipated too quickly in the air, and any secondary projectiles or shrapnel had rapidly diminishing returns the farther away the target stood from the point of impact. That was without even taking into consideration the increased predominance of advanced personal protective equipment, EM fields, and the sheer effectiveness of one of man¡¯s oldest defenses against blast impact weapons: Trenches. In any modern army, even to this day, it was a matter of course to dig a ditch, or exploit a naturally occurring dip in the terrain, since it provided a disproportionate boost to the odds of infantry surviving a nearby explosion. Modern laser batteries, on the other hand, provided an ideal combination of heat and radiation energy which would superheat not only the target, but the immediate surrounding area as well. The very oxygen that was vital for the subsistence of life became a deadly poison which would burn out the lungs and internal organs in a flash. The energy beam would easily penetrate most ordinary defense fortifications, and even EM fields would find their energy rapidly sapped upon direct contact with a continuous laser barrage, since the drain was constant and not instant, such as that provided by ordinary explosive devices. The effective range of a laser cannon was much smaller than their ballistic counterparts, but that deficiency was more than compensated by three factors: First, the effective casualty ratio reached to an impressive 96%. Second, technological advances allowed laser cannons to be fused together, ushering the era of the twin, then the quad laser battery, which instantly increased their effective kill radius by a power of three and their penetration power accordingly. Of course, it all came with a price. The cost of single quad laser battery was astronomical, well over twenty times the cost of a ballistic equivalent. In addition, the power drain of such a device made its deployment and use extremely prohibitive. Also, the inability to quickly relocate and redeploy a single quadcannon laser battery for immediate use turned this modern day weapon into a true nightmare for most field commanders. Too far, and its effectiveness would be severely curtailed, given the energy beam traveled in a straight line and could not be arched to reach fortified targets. Too close, and it risked a direct hit by the enemy artillery, effectively turning a priceless weapon into a massive nuclear explosive device. Indeed, the volatile nature of a laser battery meant its components, no matter how well shielded they were, would be vulnerable to enemy fire and a massive, disastrous detonation of the weapon and its equally volatile fuel cells. ¡°Sir, target coordinates have been locked in. Laser cannon emplacements are charged and ready to fire. Beg your pardon sir,¡± continued the querulous captain while standing at attention before me. Good ol¡¯ Jenkins, he had been my artillery officer for a number of years. Gruff, but rather down-to-earth and most dependable, I¡¯d grown fond of the man. ¡°But sensor readings taken before the radiation storm indicated no movement along that whole perimeter. The enemy will immediately target our location if they discover that we have deployed and discharged our laser batteries. Which you''ve ordered me to do - aiming at nothing. Forest, trees, rocks. I respectfully must protest at the tactical value of firing my babies at a pile of crap, beg your pardon for the language.¡± I serenely nodded at the captain¡¯s entirely justified and well expounded concern, then nodded almost amiably as I said casually, ¡°Duly noted, Captain. Your concerns are understandable, and your zeal is commendable.¡± In the same breath, I turned the full weight of my gaze to bear upon Jenkins, and uttered a single word in cold, deadly finality, ¡°Fire.¡± The captain¡¯s face blanched as his face trembled with vexation, but he did not dare show any other signs of protest. ¡°Sir!¡± Turning around to face the eight quadcannon laser batteries nearby, the raised his hand and flung it down, yelling, ¡°All laser batteries, FIRE!¡± Dazzling sparks and arcs of energy could be seen coursing through the entire body of the massive devices as they channeled their energy towards a single point, condensing a blinding mass of liquid light that seemed to hang suspended in the air for a moment before four beams of supercharged heat materialized from the mouths of the impressive instruments of death, instantly cutting through the air and leaving an almost painful afterglow in my field of vision before dissipating moments later. ¡°That¡¯s it, Captain. Keep it at short bursts, concentrate fire on your given coordinates,¡± I drawled with a contented grin spreading across my face. The captain turned to me with that disgruntled expression still on his face, like I¡¯d asked him to drink a carton full of piss - one sip at a time. ¡°Sir, beg your pardon, but I still don¡¯t understand the..¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Captain,¡± I interrupted him, holding up a finger. ¡°I would strongly recommend that you wear the spectrum shielded protective goggles as stipulated by Federation Army Artillery Safety Regulation article 12 numeral b, c and f.¡± ¡°What?¡± Was the only reply that the poor man could manage, before shaking his head in befuddlement, staring at me. ¡°Sir? No one ever uses them monstrosities..¡± I gave him a toothy grin, then took out my own set, which coincidentally had never even been taken out of its initial protective plastic wrap. Truly, no one ever used the unwieldy monstrosities, as they were largely unnecessary and weighed a metric ton. It was like wearing weights for your nose and ears. Besides, they simply looked ridiculous! A true eyesore indeed. Of course, officers should lead by example, so I nimbly maneuvered mine into place, then turned my impassive gaze onto the flummoxed Jenkins. I felt the near irresistible urge to wink at him, but that would completely ruin my image. Ahem, certain properties should always be observed. Damn, all this time with Shia and Sol had really done a number on me. Sol, just hold on a while longer. I¡¯m coming. Which reminded me, it was about high time to end this farce - with a bang, of course. What better way to end things? Well, several bangs are always better than one. Case in point.. As Captain Jenkins still took there dumbly staring at me, teetering on the edge of insubordination - either for guffawing at one¡¯s superior officer, or for summoning the battalion medic to perform an emergency psychiatric evaluation on said man - a blinding flash of light, brilliant to the point where it would be painful naked eye, spread in the air around us from behind Jenkins¡¯ back. Startled, Jenkins turned around to follow the source, whereupon seven more flashes came upon being, instantly lighting up the distant horizon. Coincidentally, those were the very same spots our laser batteries had targetted. Jenkins reeled back with a painful cry as he covered his eyes with one hand. Pity, he missed out on the ravishing sight of eight spectacular flares of light erupting from the midst of the dense canopy of trees covering the lower reaches of the Middle Wei Hao peaks. A moment later, every wisp and particule of light seemed to be irresistibly sucked in towards the center of the blasts, imploding upon themselves and creating a halo of energies that distorted the refraction of light itself around the area, sending iridescent streams of multicolored luminescence spreading outwards in a truly surreal fashion. It had been a long time since I¡¯ve seen fireworks as pretty as these. ¡°What the f..¡± Was the only gasp that escaped Jenkins¡¯ trembling lips. ¡°Captain, fire on to the next coordinates,¡± I ordered lightly, my eyes still swept up in the incredible show laid out before me. Damn, but I loved to blow stuff up. Ah, it was definitely one of several of the pleasures that kept me going throughout each day. ¡°S.. sir, what the f..¡± Any further attempts to speak were cut off as the blast wave from the explosions reached us. At this distance, it was only enough to send a curtain of fine dust and snow showering upon us. Still, we were talking about a good 10 miles or so. That had been one hell of an explosion. At least it seemed to bring Jenkins back to his senses. He turned back to me and snapped to attention, as a fiery glow previously absent came to his eyes. ¡°Sir, yes sir!¡± Came the vigorous reply, before Captain Jenkins rushed off to scream more orders at his men. ¡°You useless maggots, you¡¯re still recalibrating? Get off your damn useless, lazy, overpaid asses and..¡± Came the stream of curses for what really had been a spectacularly well aimed shot. Well, that was in keeping with army tradition, I suppose. The fountains of light in the distance were gone, though several chain explosions in the immediate vicinity were still barely registrable to the naked eye. Pinpoints of red intersped with black could be seen swiftly spreading as well. Good, fire and smoke always adds some more flavor to the meat. Speaking of smoke, I turned my gaze higher, beyond the Wei Hao peaks looming above me, and on to the dark skies above. I fancied I could still see the beautiful trails of smoke left by 48 mid-range ballistic missiles soaring in concert through the air, piercing the clouds as they rose high into the distance and beyond sight. For long range artillery worthy of calling as such, all I had were the 8 laser batteries and 24 crossfire missile launchers. Each launcher was capable of unleashing 2 mid-range self-guided ballistic missiles with multiple warheads. The effective range on the missile launchers was much greater than that of the laser batteries, since the former were self-guided and could be launched at an arc over terrain and obstacles. Still, it was one thing to say it was self-guided. It was another thing entirely as to whether it would actually hit its target. The probability of a missile accurately hitting its target in this kind of conditions, given the weather, multiple obstacles, and enemy missile interception countermeasures, would usually be around 20%. More than likely, they would be shot down or veered off target. The radiation storm would ordinarily do nothing to affect the probability of a successful hit, since it would work to neutralize enemy counter-measures, but it would also effectively disable the radar and navigation technology which would allow the missile to home in on its target. Of course, that would be in regular circumstances. The arc of the missiles I¡¯d ordered launched had been at an unusually high angle and steep vector. It would be just enough to keep them below the stratospheric storm, but the manual coordinates that had been punched in ahead of time should be enough to ensure they would approach the proper area. Once they were there, it would be time for a whole new brand of fireworks. Ah, I could hardly wait. I almost felt like a kid must while waiting for Santa to land from just below the stratosphere and deliver the biggest damn surprise ever - to the other kids. The evil ones. It almost made me want to set up a Christmas tree, right here in the middle of the snow. ¡°Warthog, you better come through, or I will hang your head by my fireplace and use it for target practice,¡± I muttered, still unsure as to whether that particular gamble of sending Warthog Akatombe on that particular mission would pay off or not. Shaking my head slightly to clear my head, I turned to a nearby lieutenant. ¡°Prepare to fire all field guns and mortars upon my command at the pre-specified coordinates.¡± ¡°Sir, everything has been prepared. However, the allied army is still reeling and has yet to reach the designated area. Should we..¡± suggested the officer. I firmly shook my head. ¡°No, you will hold your fire until I give the signal.¡± Faced with the young man¡¯s obvious frustration, I raised my hand to gently pat his shoulder. ¡°You will see more blood and guts than you¡¯d ever wish, soon enough. In the meantime, you will personally make sure everything is prepared.¡± A fierce fire could be seen burning in the man¡¯s eyes as he saluted. ¡°Yes sir!¡± I nodded my satisfaction as the man moved off to comply with my orders, then squeezed my eyes as another blinding flash in the horizon followed the next discharge from our laser cannons. Furious blasts could be heard even from this distance, and more waves of dust could be seen heading our way. ¡°The enemy commander will panic when his own laser batteries, which had been carefully and stealthily been deployed before the battle, explode and decimate his own artillery forces,¡± I chuckled ruefully to myself. ¡°It will only get worse when he is unable to contact the Ice Emperor for instructions. After all, from their perspective this battle was already won. Small man like Colonel Hong Fei, he should immediately give the order to charge unilaterally in order to suppress our position. Not only that, he also knows his own long range artillery support is almost in place. Almost.¡± ¡°Ah, Hong Fei, you will soon come to realize just how terrifying that single word, ¡®Almost¡¯ truly is. You had ¡®almost¡¯ won this battle.¡± I grinned wolfishly from ear to ear, then couldn¡¯t help but let out a few rumbling chuckles, which may or may not have sounded more like evil cackles, as I raised my head to gaze into the distance, where more rumbling explosions could be heard shaking the ground under the merciless barrage of continuous laser fire. ¡°You ¡®almost¡¯ survived this battle.¡± My gaze moved on, beyond the mountains before me, and into the horizon, where surely one pissed off unstoppable mass of muscles and carnage should be furiously cursing my name while fiddling around with the tiny, almost toy-like polycarbonate gun in his hand. ¡°Almost time.¡± Eh? "Achooo!" Chapter 30 - The Warthogs Legend Chapter 30 - The Warthog''s Legend Author''s Note: Decided to post the beginning of this chapter, since the ending of the last chapter really only makes sense if you read the beginning of this one. Which by the way, I''m fully willing to finish writing by this weekend if I get a new little review on the main page. Hehe, my precious! Look forward to it, and thanks for reading! P.S. Welp, I felt bad about holding a chapter hostage, so I''ll go ahead and post it for the enjoyment of all. That said, I would still greatly appreciate a new review on that shiny main page, har har. Three Rivers Pass, Inwha Region. Local Time: 22:21 ¡°Fucking boss, godammit! I swear,¡± growled the massive mountain of a man, but his countenance looked sickly and pallid as his shaking hands gently cradled the tiny, almost toy-like device in his hands, firmly pointed in the direction of approximately one metric fuckton of guns, cannons and missiles which were all currently aimed at precisely him. ¡°I knew he¡¯d be the death of me,¡± Major Ombue Akatombe lamented once more. ¡°I repeat, this is Colonel Lin Feng of the glorious Obsidian Eagle Army. Put down your weapon and come down with your hands over your head or we WILL open fire!¡± Came the authoritative voice, exuding confidence and a strong sense of disdain. ¡°This is your last warning. Surrender immediately and submit for questioning or you will be annihilated.¡± Standing behind an EM field so strong that ripples of air could be seen with the naked eye, the short, pudgy man wearing sunglasses and smoking a cigar stood fearlessly in front of his army. Of course, his men had been constantly scanning the surrounding mountain range and had been unable to detect any signatures from weapons that could pose a threat to him. Unfortunately, this major Lin seemed to know as well as Akatombe or any other expert would, that mere small infantry weapons fire would bounce from his huge ass EM field like bb pellets fired at a an elephant¡¯s ass - it would only serve to further enrage the elephant before it squashed him down like an ant. Let alone the fact that Akatombe knew the moment they¡¯d been spotted - well, they¡¯d spotted him, not the men under his command, since he was pretty much dismal at the whole hiding and skulking in the shadows stuff - they would have scanned him and found that he did not possess any weapons other than that strange-looking handgun cradled in his hands. Hah. A handgun. A polymer-based handgun, at that. While they would escape enemy detection via scans, their stopping power was truly abysmal. Major Lin had every right to look down his nose and snort derisively at Akatombe¡¯s poor weaponless, defenseless, helpless ass. ¡°Ah, what I wouldn¡¯t give to have good old Bertha in my hands again,¡± silently mused Akatombe in his mind. Bertha was his custom-ordered vulcan gatling gun. At a rate of 9,000 rounds per minute, he could go through his exo-skeleton¡¯s entire arsenal of 20,000 rounds in roughly 2 minutes of continuous fire. By that point, either he would be cooking alive due to the extreme heat produced from the unholy barrage of bullets, or the enemy would. Ah, now that was what life should be all about. Either you die, or I do. Such were the simple pleasures that kept Ombue ¡°Warthog¡± Akatombe going. Surely, it wasn¡¯t asking for too much? Instead, the goddamn insane Boss had wanted him to play chicken while aiming a ridiculous toy gun at an enemy with enough of a payload to blow him and his men up alongside this whole forsaken mountain to boot. And that would just be the first salvo. Hell, his trained eye could see RZ-12 missile platforms, mortars, field guns, self-propelled infantry guns, even a few laser batteries which were bundled up all nice and neat, ready for deployment. Minimally defended too, from what he could see. Akatombe only wished he had his exo-skeleton with him. Now, that¡¯d be a dance! Instead, he was stuck holding this damn useless laser beacon gun, the trigger of which he hadn¡¯t even dared to press since the laser was plainly visible to the naked eye. Then the whole game would be up. Thus far, the laser device had been cleverly modified to look like a standard polycarbonate weapon. A decent personal defense weapon, he supposed, when stealth was a major concern and you were a wimpy little four year old toddler! Given that he had not a single other device or weapon, and garbed as he was in a camo-striped, thermal-shielding suit, it was obvious he was part of a stealth-recon force, detached to scout out the area perhaps. It stood to reason that they hadn¡¯t opened fire the instant he had shifted his massive weight one too many times, and someone had finally picked up the moment from below. Which truly, it wasn¡¯t his fault! With his mass, and with his training, or lack-thereof, it was a wonder he¡¯d lasted as long as he had. This had been a mission destined to fail from the very beginning. If only he weren¡¯t even more scared of the damn boss than of all these warheads and gun muzzles pointed at him, he would have flatly refused to come. It was practically running to his death! Indeed, they hadn¡¯t killed him, and instead sought to capture him for information. That was typical operating procedure. If the enemy did not pose an immediate threat, and could have valuable intel, capture rather than neutralization was the priority. ¡°You big, ugly brute. Why don¡¯t you put down your little toy gun and obediently come to prostrate yourself before Colonel Lin Feng¡¯s glorious Obsidian Eagle Army? Come, there¡¯s a good boy!¡± Came the taunting call once more, and a series of loud guffaws followed immediately after. Akatombe¡¯s knuckles went white as his grip tightened into a vise. If only he had a knife, a simple kitchen knife. Or not even, just a nail clipper would do. Then he would happily run down the hill and stick it so far up the smug son-of-a-gun¡¯s ass, they¡¯d need an industrial wrecker to dig it out. Then we¡¯d see how he liked the Warthog¡¯s little toys. Instead, he was stuck with the useless laser homing gun which was actually starting to crumple up a little in his grip. Hell, had he broken it? The Boss would not be happy. Ah, then again, at this point he ought to be beyond caring what the Boss did or did not like. At least they had only spotted him, and not the rest of his crew. Akatombe sighed wretchedly as his gaze caught just a shadow of movement from a corner of his eyes. That had been one of the soldiers that had come with him signaling him with an all-ok sign. Sure, the damn bastard didn¡¯t have a million kilotons of ordnance pointed at his ass. Of course it was all-ok. They had spread out as per the instructions from the Boss. Now they were hiding, as proper stealth-recon specialists that they were, in the hills and behind the rocks all around the military convoy below. Of course, Akatombe had been the only one to be spotted. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!That was him, always drawing the shitstick. It hadn¡¯t always been that way. He could still recall the good old days, which had been all of what, up to a couple days ago when the Boss had still liked him. How did he know that? ¡°Go crazy, Little Bue,¡± the Boss would say. Then everything would be swell and good in the world. He¡¯d smash, burn, tear, maim and kill to his heart¡¯s content, and in the end, the Boss would nod happily at him and take care of the rest. No more damn paperwork, no more prison cells, no more military tribunals and all that crap. In fact, the very first time he¡¯d met the boss had been within the confines of a military prison, awaiting to stand trial before yet another military tribunal.. *** ¡°Damn it all, if I get my hands on that little punk of a captain, I will break both his arms and wring his own hands around his neck until his head pops up like a bottle cap from a beer bottle,¡± snarled Akatombe, pacing back and forth within the dark cell. The inmates in the cells directly next to his crawled just a little farther away from the dividing wall, paling visibly. ¡°What are you looking at, you worms?¡± Akatombe growled, turning around and slamming a heavy punch against the bars which rattled the entire cell with a loud metallic ping, as though it had been concrete instead of flesh and bone which had hit the metal bars. ¡°N.. nothing! We¡¯re sorry! Sorry!¡± Cried out the man he¡¯d yelled at, squirming even further back against the back wall, as though he wished he could simply melt into the surface. Puny little thing, he probably massed a mere 230 pounds or so. Weaklings, all of them. ¡°Damn right nothing,¡± Akatombe huffed out, cracking his knuckles one by one, the loud sound echoing like gunshots in the silence. ¡°Now roll them eyeballs towards me one more time and I¡¯ll scoop them out and shove them into your own mouth, then crush them like grapes along with all your teeth, little man! Just see if I don¡¯t!¡± ¡°Eeep!¡± The man cried out, turning his head around to slam his own forehead into the ground. He lay there motionless except for the continuous trembling which he could simply not suppress. Nothing but a sorry looking heap of quivering muscles. So weak, all of them! ¡°Excellent,¡± a new voice called out softly from behind him, casual and easy as though commenting on the price of bread, though there was a weight to them that made Akatombe¡¯s skin crawl. ¡°Fear is a survival mechanism, and it serves that man well.¡± Akatombe roared in rage as he turned around to identify the newcomer, ready to unleash his rage upon this new, insufferably arrogant bastard. ¡°Who dares?¡± ¡°I see that¡¯s a survival trait you¡¯ve yet to acquire,¡± the voice continued, abruptly turning icy and cold enough to burn the eerie silence that dominated the entire floor. It came from a figure as yet obscured by the gloom just outside the door to his cell. ¡°We¡¯ll have to work on that. Now, let¡¯s see what you¡¯ve got. Go on. Go crazy, Little Bue.¡± Akatombe roared in renewed fury as his eyes became bloodshot, and he instantly charged at the door while foaming at the mouth. Bue? Little Bue? No one had dared call him that since his cadet days, when his drill sergeant had thought it would be funny to call the deadliest, meanest murder machine in the entire squadron by the most ridiculous, adorable abbreviation Ombue Akatombe¡¯s name could afford. A few years later, Akatombe had made a point to stop by the bar frequented by said drill sergeant, and had beat him within an inch of his death. As he¡¯d walked out from before the pale, horrified stares of the entire squadron that had been drinking at that particular watering hole, he¡¯d made a point of pausing briefly to spit on that bloodied, quivering pile of broken bone and torn tendon. ¡°Bue my ass.¡± Afterwards, no one had ever dared to even breathe the word, whether in or out of his immediate presence. With a furious cry, Akatombe propelled the full weight of his body directly against the door, using his massive shoulder as a battering ram. A violent tearing sound could be heard before the weak metal frame finally gave way, twisting out of his way and sending the whole door flying straight towards the doomed little man. Indeed, the only reason Akatombe had not busted out of this cell had been because he¡¯d already been relocated twice, resulting in various first-degree burns as half a dozen stun blasters had fired time and time again upon his body. One or two would barely be enough to slow him down, but a massed volley was simply too annoying and painful to deal with. So, he¡¯d compromised and stayed within their little pen. However, when they finally charged him up for third degree insubordination, damage to military property and excessive use of violence - like usual - and fined him before letting him go - because he was simply too valuable to throw away - then he¡¯d find each and every one of those little bastards and he¡¯d cram those blasters muzzle first into their mouths, then watch as he emptied the entire clip down their throats and out their eye sockets. Ah, but little did this little worm know that Akatombe simply chose to be imprisoned, and could bust out whenever he damn felt like it. Maniacal laughter rumbled in his chest as he imagined the shock and ensuing terror as he tore the damn limbs off this puny little bastard¡¯s body one by one. However, when he burst out of the cell, right behind the door, he suddenly found that the hallway was empty and there was nobody there. The cell door crashed loudly against the back wall, and Akatombe stood in bewildered silence as he pivoted his body left and right trying to find the sneaky little bastard. ¡°You lack discipline,¡± that same voice intoned right next to his ear, cool and calm at first, but turning low and deadly towards the end. ¡°But I find your enthusiasm.. contagious.¡± A slight chill moved down Akatombe¡¯s spine, but he furiously shook it off as he swung his fist blindly over his left shoulder in a backhanded smash. Nothing. It was as though he were facing a ghost. ¡°Sneaky little coward, come out and face me if you dare!¡± Akatombe cried out furiously, the veins in his neck popping out. ¡°Reckless. I like that,¡± came the damnable voice once more, this time to his right. ¡°I can work with that.¡± As he turned his head in that direction, he could finally see the man clearly. He was dressed in the uniform of an army colonel in the federation, but he looked impossibly young for the position - early 30s at most. He would barely weigh in at 200 pounds soaking wet, and he was not bearing any weapons that could possibly support the manic confidence that could be seen burning within those dark, smoldering eyes. ¡°Let me teach you of this thing called..¡± The man whispered, his mouth spreading in a humorless grin, and Akatombe once more felt a chill run down his back. ¡°Fear.¡± Winter howled in Ombue Akatombe¡¯s heart, and his very soul trembled. Chapter 31 - The Warthogs Legend (Part II) Chapter 31 - The Warthog¡¯s Legend (Part II) Author''s Notes: A heartfelt thanks to every reader, particularly those who take the time and effort to leave a comment. You have no idea how encouraging those are! Special thanks to ddamyon for writing a review on the main fiction page. As promised, here''s a new chapter. And may we all keep posting, har har! ¡°Let me teach you of this thing called..¡± The man standing before Akatombe spoke softly, yet he felt as though an icicle had crystallized within his heart, radiating a numbing chill which pumped his veins full of liquid winter. ¡°Fear,¡± the mysterious man finished, with a frigid smile that contained no humor whatsoever. In one instantaneous, explosive moment his opponent''s entire figure blurred and before he knew it, the insane little man was dashing forward at an impossible speed in a clearly suicidal charge! ¡°I will kill you!¡± Akatombe roared, finally shaking free from the turmoil in his mind. He reacted instantly and reflexively through finely-honed, pure and unadulterated survival instinct, launching his own body forward to meet the man with his own shoulder charge. He easily outmassed his opponent by at least 150 pounds. He was Ombue ¡°The Tombstone¡± Akatombe - 355 pounds of pure muscle hard enough to dent steel! In a face to face collision, the poor bastard would be crushed like an egg smashing against a freight train! At the moment of impact, however, there was no bone-splintering crash, no sudden eruption of mangled flesh nor even a spray of blood. Instead, an unsettling, bone-rattling sound went through him, penetrating his body somewhere below his arm, right around his ribs. It was not a sound that he perceived with his ears, but rather it was felt throughout his entire body. It impacted against his flesh, then coursed up his ribcage and spine, before reaching his head with mind-numbing, skull-rattling impact. All breath escaped him with a sharp, soundless cry and stars swam across his vision as he was forced to yield against this overwhelming onslaught of pain, instinctively twisting his body away from its source and falling back against the metal bars behind. Slowly, he slid down towards the floor, his hands trembling violently as they moved to cradle his midsection. In a daze, he looked down to see what sort of instrument of death and mayhem this cheap bastard had used to rip his guts out. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he failed to see even a hint of blood, let alone any weapons as he¡¯d initially suspected. His shirt stood whole, and even his skin, when he peeled the rough cotton fabric back, showed nothing but a dark, bloody bruise beginning to form. Still, when he gingerly laid his hand against his flank, he hissed with an indrawn breath as he noted that he¡¯d cracked at least a couple ribs, if they weren¡¯t outright broken. What the hell? How had the broken his ribs so easily? Furthermore, Akatombe was an unstoppable force, an avalanche of absolute power, a true juggernaut that transcended mere flesh and bone. A few broken ribs were nothing to him! Yet he¡¯d seldom, if ever experienced such heart-rending pain before! ¡°Im.. Impossible,¡± Akatombe cried out in disbelief, raising his eyes to stare at the man who stood before him, watching him intently. His eyes were embers of charcoal smoking with some dark, disturbing emotion, yet his body remained absolutely still and impassive like a statue, his arms crossed behind his back. It looked like a vision of the grim reaper himself. Shaking off the sudden chill that had descended upon his bones, he stood up shakily and once more summoned up his rage, that seething fuel that always burned within him. It slowly turned his vision red, until everything faded away except this little man who had dared to, impossibly, inflict such grievous pain upon him with nothing but bare fists! Luck! It could only have been luck! There was simply no other way to explain such vicious, overwhelming power! With a cry of pure, murderous fury, Akatombe swung his right fist as though to smash both the man and the wall behind him into dust. If anyone thought Akatombe would be any slower due to his massive size, they would find, much to their ever-lasting regret, that they were dead wrong. And if they thought size and speed comprised the entirety of Akatombe¡¯s arsenal, they simply could not be more mistaken. Tombstone Akatombe had crushing power, yes; mind-boggling speed as well; yet, his deadliest weapon were neither his rock-hard flesh nor his steely bones. No, Akatombe¡¯s greatest asset was his finely honed combat instinct, forged in the heat of countless battles and tempered in the blood of his enemies. In the blink of an eye, and with an effortless ease which had been painstakingly earned from a lifetime of brawling against anyone, anywhere and at anytime, he smoothly switched from the messy, uncoordinated pounce he¡¯d used into an expert''s fighting stance. This instant¡¯s adjustment allowed him to shift his balance in a flash as he pulled his punch back at the last moment. A perfect feint! The man fell for it, as his eyes widened ever so slightly, and he paused in the motion of swaying away from the blow. This was how he¡¯d apparently vanished from Akatombe¡¯s sight earlier. He had shifted his weight, then rapidly shuffled towards his blind spot. A superb fighter, but that was not enough to defeat the Tombstone Akatombe! Before the man had time to recover his balance, Akatombe launched his true blow, a deadly cross that carried with it the momentum of his entire body, all 355 pounds of rock-hard muscle, into a truly vicious, fatal strike which struck like lightning! However, confusion once more widened Akatombe¡¯s eyes as he saw that the insane little man had chosen to spin around with the same motion he¡¯d used to sway to one side, all in one smooth, graceful movement. Was the man completely insane? His back turned against Akatombe, he had no chance to dodge or counter the fearsome blow at all! Akatombe couldn¡¯t help but snarl in feral joy as he could almost taste the blood that would liberally splatter against his fist, upon the wall and even on his face, when his thunderous hook ruptured the little man¡¯s flesh and caved his skull in. Impossibly, however, that blow never connected. Instead, as though he¡¯d grown eyes behind his head, the man lowered his head just a fraction, a few inches. It was enough to cause the furious punch to slide past him, not even brushing up against its intended target. Akatombe¡¯s eyes widened as he felt the punch strike nothing but air, then looked up in bewilderment as he sensed a shadow rapidly approaching from above, of all places! A kick? The man had used the same spinning motion of twisting away from the incoming punch to power his own spinning back heel kick in the perfect counter! Let alone the peerless skill required to perfectly time this counterblow, the sheer guts required to even attempt such a suicidal move when confronted with Akatombe¡¯s soul-crushing power - it was simply awe inspiring. Was he a man or demon? Then all conscious thought was fractured into splinters as he felt an impossible weight slam his face mercilessly down toward the ground, as though someone had swung a massive sledgehammer against his nose. Cartilage crackled and bone snapped as blood poured forth copiously in a grisly shower of red. Complete darkness was flung against his mind as though a titan had picked up the Earth and used it to smash his entire face in. Crumpling to his knees, Akatombe struggled to hang on to consciousness, and managed another roar though clearly weaker and with the last desperate reservoirs of his strength, as he launched one final, defiant blow. This one did connect against flesh, but it was a hand which easily stopped his quivering, powerless blow. The now disconcertingly familiar voice scorched its way into Akatombe¡¯s entrails as it ruthlessly rang out from above his head, looking down upon him. ¡°Decent skills. Excellent focus. Though you suffer from severe tunnel vision. Ah, just like a big, unruly warthog. Ugly enough to match, too.¡± Akatombe¡¯s fading consciousness barely registered a blisteringly cold, evil laughter that sent a wave of shivers down his spine, melting all traces of resistance. His burning anger once more attempted to arise, to burst forth from his chest and power the endless furnace of his heart. However, just as a few sparks were gathering, the steely grip that held his fist suddenly twisted, then mercilessly yanked sideways at an unnatural angle. A loud crack could be heard as the arm broke and searing pain flashed across his entire limb, before a cold numbness subdued all feeling altogether. ¡°Tut tut, that¡¯s enough. You¡¯re mine now,¡± came the ominous words, and Akatombe barely suppressed a shudder which emanated from deep within his soul. The last words before he became drowned in a icy sea of darkness were the words he would never forget. ¡°Well done, Little Bue. Next time though, don¡¯t go so crazy.¡± ¡°Bastard, you¡¯re the one that told me to go crazy..¡± Akatombe murmured helplessly within his mind, before all thought and consciousness were snuffed out. *** This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. And that had been his first time getting his ass kicked by the Boss. Of course, it was not the last. Not nearly. Eventually, however, he had wised up. He had learned. That precious gem of wisdom had become so deeply embedded within his soul, it blazed like a burning insignia against the dark fury that rose within him still, whenever he went into his berserking rages: Never, ever piss off the Boss. That was the single most important rule that must never be violated. Ever. He thought he¡¯d done rather well for himself, up until now. Shaking his head and surveying his surroundings, he finally had to admit it. That had to be it. He¡¯d finally gone and pissed off the Boss. He had no idea how or when. That was completely beside the point. The main thing was, the Boss was angry and Little Bue would pay - pound by pound, in blood and tears if need be. That was the simple life of Ombue ¡°Warthog¡± Akatombe. ¡°Fine then. All troops, open fire on my command!¡± Came the screeching, furious cry from the little fat man below. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m coming, coming,¡± Akatombe grumbled, raising both hands above his head and walking forward slowly. His posture was truly awkward since his melon-sized head was lowered as far as he could and his bulging shoulders hunched inward as he approached the enemy. One could only hope that with this poor visibility and at this distance, no one would recognize him. Otherwise, he¡¯d never live it down. Yeah, he silently consoled himself, it was pretty dark by now. Besides, how would anyone recognize him without his signature exo-skeleton, or Bertha by his side? Yeah, it would be alright, he realized, as he breathed out a sigh of relief. That was, until the next words he heard chilled his blood and almost froze him on the spot. ¡°Wait, isn¡¯t that.. Isn¡¯t that the Warthog?¡± Came a startled cry from the group below him. Aw, fuck me. ¡°Oh yeah, that does look like the Butcher of Salinas, don¡¯t he?¡± Came another excited, disbelieving question, and a massive flurry of voices ensued. ¡°Holy shit, we did it. We captured the Warthog!¡± ¡°You mean the Demon of Marseilles, that madman?¡± ¡°I thought it was impossible to capture the berserking son-of-a-gun. Hell, I heard at New Lima a whole battalion of armored infantry ran him down and surrounded him in an abandoned building in downtown. Almost one thousand men against one! And in the end, not one survivor. Not a single one.¡± ¡°Yeah, I heard that one too! Supposedly he stepped out into the street in a giant abomination of an exo-skeleton and started spraying bullets like there was no tomorrow. Literally spitting out death left and right! He obliterated the whole city block around himself, took down the entire battalion and almost all of downtown New Lima with it.¡± ¡°Yeah, I heard they baptized his superlarge-caliber vulcan gun as Bertha the Doombringer from that day on. Man, I even have a picture of it in my phone!¡± ¡°Hahah, they even said next time they would just nuke the bastard and save themselves the grief,¡± another laughed. ¡°Y¡¯now what, I heard the Warthog once charged at a whole wing of armored vehicles all by himself. Forced them to retreat in a panic too, not even half of them made it back!¡± ¡°I know a guy who knew a guy who was there. Said the crazy bastard just kept firing rocket after rocket at them, wouldn¡¯t even stop for nothing. Then when he finally ran out, he just fucking charged the nearest tank screaming like a madman and left a dent the size of a damn rhino. Even flipped the whole thing over!¡± ¡°Holy shit, for real?¡± ¡°Yeah, they say he even busted into a superarmored bunker when the bunkerbuster missile failed to breach the doors. Just tore the damn hinges off the door like it was tin foil and sprayed the whole room with hyper-napalm. Cooked the poor bastards alive.¡± ¡°Goddamn..¡± ¡°Silence!¡± Roared Lin Feng¡¯s voice all of a sudden, quieting down all the impromptu conversations. Then he turned his gaze upon Akatombe, his next words dripping with equal measures of contempt and pride. ¡°So, the Warthog Akanooshe, is it? Hahaha, not such a big man, after all. Rather.. Disappointing, as a matter of fact.¡± Akatombe¡¯s eyes instantly went bloodshot as his pulse began to rise furiously, but he continued walking forward. It¡¯s Akatombe, you imbecile. ¡°So, Captain Akanooshe, to what do we owe the dubious honor?¡± The odious little man continued. Major Akatombe, you retard. ¡°That tight little spandex fetish squeeze the tongue out of you along with what little manliness you had left?¡± The fat freak continued, chortling at his own wit. ¡°Pathetic fool, if I get my hands on you, I will skewer you like a shrimp and roast you alive,¡± Akatombe thought while glaring murderously at the fat little man. ¡°Then we¡¯ll see how honored you really feel.¡± Still, he maintained his silence. ¡°Heh, I didn¡¯t think a fat pig like you would even dream of sneaking up on my troops. I¡¯d heard that muscle-bound brutes have their brains melted by all the steroids they take, but really you must have flushed what little grey matter you had left down the toilet before this last mission,¡± Lin Feng laughed crudely at his own joke, and his troops obligingly laughed along. CRACK, a hairline fracture ran down the tiny display screen in the laser homing device he held in a deathgrip. He exhaled one slow breath and slowly forced his fingers to ease on the pressure. Damn Boss was liable to chase him down to hell itself, should he break his little toy before accomplishing the mission. Which reminded him, what about the damn mission now? Aw hell, surely it wasn''t his fault this time. Clearly, it wasn''t. Perhaps once, just this once the Boss would let one slide by. After all, not even the Boss was THAT good. He was simply the Boss, not God. He couldn''t just be everywhere all at once, right? Right? Just at that moment, a high-pitched ringing sound started to reverberate from his wrist-mounted personal comm device. At the same time, flashing streams of electric neon green and blue began to snake across the skies above, lighting up the whole rockside where he stood along with the mountain pass below him. ¡°What is that?¡± Lin Feng cried out, frowning as he shifted his gaze between the radiation storm that had suddenly come into being, and the alarm sound from Akatombe¡¯s comm device. Slowly and almost languidly, Akatombe turned his head slightly to read the words flashing upon his comm device. It made all the blood drain from his face and his whole body tremble. It was as though a gigantic hand had just reached into his chest and squeezed his heart dry. The display on his wrist read, ¡°Little Bue, get down in 20..¡± The little number in the end continued to flash as it kept ticking down. 19.. 18.. 17.. Now he recalled that his Boss had programmed some sort of alarm timer in his comm device before sending him off. He¡¯d had a bad, bad feeling about this whole stinking affair right from then and there. And now that he¡¯s sticking out like a sore thumb right in the middle of thousands of enemy soldiers¡¯ crosshairs - now he wants me to get down? Aw, fuck me. Why me Boss? ¡°I repeat, what is that? If it''s your comm device, you will immediately turn it off and deliver it into my possession. All foreign signals are being jammed to and from this location, so it is useless to try and contact help,¡± the fat little pig called out shrilly. Akatombe turned his head back towards the odious little man very, very slowly, like the turret of a tank turning to acquire a new target. His eyes showed a hint of madness that hadn¡¯t been there before. ¡°It¡¯s not a call for help, dumbass,¡± he snorted, shrugging as he leveled the little toy gun and pointed it towards the army standing before him, then pulled the trigger - at a very far, and hopefully marginally safe distance away from himself, of course. Unsurprisingly, no one opened fire against him. After all, what could a tiny polycarbonate gun do to them? They had full combat armor, EM fields, plus plenty of bullets to fire back, should Akatombe be feeling suicidal enough to fire off a single shot from his pea shooter. More like a simple toy gun than an actual artifact of murder. ¡°Idiots,¡± Akatombe thought to himself in an almost sympathetic manner. ¡°Obviously you¡¯ve never met my Boss.¡± Hell, sometimes he wished HE had never met the Boss. ¡°It¡¯s the damn Boss from hell come calling,¡± he finished loudly, just as he managed to catch several flickering shadows streaking in from above, followed by the distinctive, intermittent flashes that could only be combustion exhaust fumes. ¡°And you just drew the shitstick,¡± Major Ombue ¡°Warthog¡± Akatombe, the man, the legend become flesh, called out grimly as he finally tossed the gun into the air, then unceremoniously jumped to the ground, hiding behind a nearby crag and striving uselessly to make himself as tiny a target as possible. ¡°Fuck me, boss. Why me?¡± He lamented mournfully, squeezing his eyes shut and compressing his mouth in a gesture an untrained eye might have called a pout. Surely not. And then, there was light. Chapter 32 - The Warthogs Legend (Part III) Chapter 32 - The Warthog¡¯s Legend (Part III) Author''s Notes: Thanks to all the readers, especially those who leave comments. Also, special thanks to Twisted and Lurken for making the effort of leaving a review on the main fiction page. It really is very encouraging for me! As a token of my appreciation, here''s an additional chapter for this week. What are we at, 4 chapters so far in 5 days? Maybe I''m going as crazy as The Warthog Akatombe! Many thanks to everyone for providing the much needed drive and inspiration to accomplish this. ¡°Huh. As expected,¡± Grunted Akatombe to himself as he woozily got to his feet, feeling as though the earth was still quaking and rolling in insane waves under his feet. ¡°Damn Boss never does things halfway,¡± He muttered, laying a steadying hand upon the massive crag he¡¯d used for refuge - then stared at the massive crack that ran not five inches from his fingers, likely caused when a damn flaming piece of metal debris about three feet long had been driven deep into the solid rock. Akatombe wasn¡¯t sure if it was his own vision or the piece of metal that was still shaking from the impact. Coughing roughly, he hawked to spit a mouthful of dust onto the ground, shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear it. His vision was still blurred, and a buzzing sound filled his ears. He was just glad that his eardrums hadn¡¯t ruptured when the series of world-shaking explosions had blasted the entire mountain, threatening to just bring the entire thing down on his head. Hell, hadn¡¯t the Boss ever heard of a concept called restraint? Feeling just a little guilty since that had been a concept he¡¯d never quite grasped himself, Akatombe merely sighed as he tried to dust himself. Of course, that simply managed to summon another dust cloud around him, his clothes looking just as bad or worse. Shrugging helplessly, he finally turned his gaze upon the spectacle that opened up in the mountain pass below him and sucked in a hissing breath. And THAT is exactly why you don''t ever want to piss off the Boss, he thought. Nothing remained of the orderly line formed by the military convoy from mere seconds ago. Instead, all that could be seen was a twisted heap of crumpled metal, liberally colored with blood. All of it was submerged in an ocean of fire. The greedy waves of blue-tinged red and gold roared as they swept through the few silhouettes that were still whole enough to be vaguely distinguished as an actual object. That was, of course, until it either melted, cracked, crumbled, or simply exploded, adding to the ocean of chaos. Another air-splitting blast thundered in the air, as if to punctuate his words. Now that he took a moment to truly take in the hellish sight below, he could vaguely make out a pattern of deep crater marks arranged in a concentric circle as they snaked down the mountain passage. Well, what had formerly been a mountain passage. Nothing would be getting through that heap of rubble, even when the fire finally burned itself out. One, two, three.. Huh. In the end he counted over 30 huge craters, deeply imprinted in the solid rock that lay under his feet. The burning remnants of countless vehicles and metal housings crackled merrily as ordnance of one sort or another found another chance to explode and add to the chaos and destruction. ¡°Good thing I¡¯d never make the Boss angry,¡± Akatombe muttered to no one in particular, swiping a hand over his brow. Then he froze in mid-motion. Was that.. Movement down there? What in the world? It couldn¡¯t be! Akatombe couldn¡¯t help but stare in sheer disbelief as he detected movement amongst the wreckage. Those were.. Figures. Human-shaped figures slowly beginning to move out from the waves of fire that apparently were simply incapable of consuming them. What was going on here? Akatombe well knew that the fatality rate of ballistic ordnance was something under 70% percent, but this was simply ridiculous! That was a god damn scene from hell down there. How could anyone, let alone a whole group of people even survive, let alone walk out of there on their own two feet? Oh. Damn, they had EM fields THAT strong? Now that Akatombe thought about it, he¡¯d aimed his laser at the farthest possible point from his own person, driven by pure and simple survival instinct. The farther away, the better for him! Apparently, that meant a rather substantial number of the enemy below had managed to escape the worst of the blast, ameliorated as it was with their EM shields. Damn, those were strong, STRONG EM fields. ¡°Hahah, they got you there Boss,¡± Akatombe snickered to himself, then abruptly stopped as he realized what that meant for his weaponless, defenseless, helpless ass. Aw, fuck me Boss! Really? Still struggling with the dawning of this new realization of impending doom, he didn¡¯t even turn around when a spectacularly loud crash was heard behind him along with another earth-shaking rumble, showering him with even more dirt and rubble. One of the stealth - recon guys suddenly stood up some distance away with his own laser beacon still gripped in hand, waving cheerfully at him and pointing behind Akatombe¡¯s back. ¡°What now,¡± he muttered darkly, as he slowly turned his head around. Then he stared dumbly at the sight before him. Ah, he was so happy he could cry. Sniff. Sniff. You''re the best, Boss! Driven a few feet deep into the ground and about a hundred feet off, stood a rocket propelled capsule container. They were used to transport emergency supplies or military equipment into heavily defended territory or across untraversable terrain - all of which applied here. What really made his eyes sting in earnest was a simple line that had been scorched across the surface of the otherwise smooth burnished metallic surface of the gigantic capsule. ¡°GO CRAZY, LITTLE BUE - B¡± Hell yeah, about damn time! *** Colonel Lin Feng of the glorious Obsidian Eagle Army currently lay on the floor, fully conscious and in good health, though faced with a great moral dilemma. It was a quandary which would haunt him for the rest of his mortal days. ¡°Should I stand, or pretend I¡¯m dead? Is it safe?¡± As of fifteen minutes ago, he had nearly pissed his pants laughing as this gigantic brute of a man had suddenly popped into their sight, completely defenseless except for a single polymer handgun. It was so dwarfed by the sheer mass and presence of the man that it looked like nothing but a tiny toy gun. How much more hysterical the situation had turned when he¡¯d found out that this simpleton, this buffoon was the famed, the legendary Demon of Marseilles, the Butcher of Salinas, the one and only Warthog Akanooshe! Seeing the massively muscled mountain of a man dressed in nothing but a skin-tight thermal-shielding outfit was simply too much to endure! Several of his troops had even quietly requested permission to take pictures as souvenirs. He himself had been tempted to order the brute to lie on his stomach before him so that he could stand with his foot on the giant¡¯s ass, just as a fond keepsake of this moment. Instead, he¡¯d been stupefied as he¡¯d watched the giant utter some nonsensical words while aiming his little gun at them. He¡¯d been about to bend over from his laughter when his gaze had followed the gun as the Warthog had thrown it high overhead. His laughter had instantly turned into complete and utter horror as he finally spotted countless flashing streaks soaring through the clouds, headed straight for the army behind him. Ballistic missiles, dozens of them, hissing their way to spell doom and death for his entire force could be seen clearly outlined against the darkening gloom of the cold mountain sky and the green-streaked radiation storm that had been spawned directly overhead mere seconds ago. How in the world? Where had a whole swarm of them suddenly come from! Let alone penetrating their defense perimeter. How in the hell had they located.. That had been as far as he got before his entire world turned into a giant furnace, with hammer after monstrous hammer striking upon the anvil of the mountain rockbed. His army had been the unfortunate object that had shattered like so much brittle glass under the repeated, seemingly endless assault. Even through his reinforced EM field he could feel the bone-rattling, mind-numbing force of it, making it impossible to do anything but curl up into a ball and cry out in despair. Breathless second after second ticked on by, time seeming to slow down to an unbearable crawl as his heart seized and fluttered at each new horrifying explosion. He had no idea how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? He hadn¡¯t even felt himself wetting his own pants. The EM field had held though, barely. Thankfully, he had been well outside the optimal kill radius, and he could see several outlines moving amongst the burning wreckage. More survivors, due to a most fortunate combination of his army¡¯s advanced EM fields, distance from the blast, and sheer dumb luck. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Gathering himself to his feet with a groan, he had swayed back and forth before being stabilized by a grimy, grim-faced lieutenant. Indeed, they would take bitter revenge against their foes for this ruinous ambush! Conducting a quick scan of his surroundings, he could see that there were still a surprisingly large amount of weapons platforms and ordnance that had been spared by the explosions. ¡°Major Wang! Where is Major..¡± He cried out in a shrill, shaky voice. ¡°Sir, Major Wang is dead,¡± came the subdued reply from the lieutenant who still supported him by the elbow. ¡°Then where is Captain Chou?¡± ¡°Dead or missing, sir,¡± came the grave reply once more. ¡°Goddamnit! I will have my revenge for this foul blow!¡± He snarled, the hatred in his eyes twisting his face into a barely recognizable expression. ¡°Gather all our men. Salvage what we can, then we move to strike the enemy. The cowards! If only they had the guts to come face us!¡± ¡°Be careful what you wish for,¡± Came the low, rumbling words from above. It was not loud, the sound barely reaching his ears through the roaring of the fire in the mountain pass behind him. However, they rattled his heart and sent uncontrollable shivers down his back. ¡°You might just get it.¡± ¡°Who is that?¡± Cried out the lieutenant, moving his hand towards the weapon holster by his hip. Immediately, a short bark of thunder rumbled across the entire canyon and the young lieutenant abruptly vanished in a fine mist of crimson. A few scraps of meat squelched wetly as they flew high into the air to land with a sickening splattering sound, sliding a few feet in the dust. Lin Feng instantly reeled back in horror, crying out in a shrill voice, ¡°H.. help me. Guards, help me!¡± ¡°Defend the Colonel!¡± A deep voice cried out, and the sounds of multiple people rushing forward echoed from the rocky walls of the pass, followed by the metallic clattering of weapons hastily being readied. ¡°Hahah, that¡¯s better. Bring it on, you bitches. Today, you all dance with Little Bu.. ah, damnit, with Warthog Akatombe!¡± ¡°Hostile target, 12 o¡¯clock! Fire at..¡± The rest of the sharp command issued from somewhere down the line would never be heard as another deafening roar of thunder crashed down upon the entire pass. High whistling sounds as well as countless metallic pings could be heard echoing across the air as entire groups of soldiers simply seemed to vaporize under an insane hail of bullets that raised up a blinding storm of hot sparks and dust. Liquid gold and red tracer bullets could be seen swiftly traversing in a continuous stream across the entire front, sweeping with it all signs of resistance. Black protective armor plates and pale flesh alike were instantly shredded like paper in a grotesque whirlwind of blood, without any way to recognize what little remained behind as anything vaguely human. Finally, scattered bursts of gunfire could be seen responding in a pitiful attempt to fight back. However, those few patches of resistance were instantly and mercilessly ground down into fine, bloody powder by an irresistible hail of bullets. One of the most unsettling scenes for Lin Feng was the sight of the single survivor of such an assault, which left all of his comrades instantly pulverized as the violent storm of gunfire swept past their entire squad in the blink of an eye. This last man standing abruptly stopped firing, then dropped his gun while slowly turning his head back and forth as though intently searching for something on the ground. Moments later, he crouched down and picked up a bloody object - an arm. As the man turned around to limp back while holding the grisly trophy, Lin Feng could finally see that the poor wretch had his entire right limb blown away, cut as neatly as though with a surgical knife. The stump was still splurting blood furiously as the man slowly moved back, swaying back and forth while staring stupidly at the severed arm held within his grasp. Then the implacable stream of gunfire swept past him once more, and the man was gone, with only a single smoking boot left standing vertically upon the spot where he had once stood. It was at this point that Lin Feng finally collapsed, covering his own head with his hands, howling wordlessly in abject terror. ¡°Re.. retreat! Fortify positions, seek..¡± The words uttered by an unnamed, courageous soul were cut off with a flurry of whining, buzzing sounds, followed by several rapid metallic clangs and a couple wet squelches. Then there was only an eerie silence except for the sounds of numerous footsteps rapidly retreating, all to the backdrop of the snarling sea of fire still consuming most of the remains of what had once been the glorious Obsidian Eagle army. ¡°Yeah, you better run bitches!¡± Came the exultant cry from above Lin Feng as heavy, rumbling footsteps that shook the entire ground slowly approached him. Lin Feng jerkily moved his head up, his eyes squinting against the glare of a potent flashlight shining upon his face - a face that lay smeared with snot and tears, the muscles constantly spasming in terror. ¡°Yo, it¡¯s you,¡± came the rather jovial voice, thick with barely disguised pleasure. ¡°Now, now, what¡¯s my name again?¡± ¡°Ah.. ah..¡± Ling Feng skittered back, sliding over the entrails of some unknown soldier, his bloody hands not even registering the gore as his gaze remained riveted upon this steel giant slowly advancing toward him. ¡°Save the Colonel. Fire now!¡± Came a cry from the distance. A couple rockets flew towards the giant, only to be casually batted aside by an impossibly fast metallic claw. It¡¯s entire figure was instantly engulfed in a burst of flame, but as it slowly dissipated, a semi-transparent EM field flickered, then stabilized as the giant leveled its arm and muttered, ¡°Goddamn mosquitoes, stop interrupting me.¡± Four baseball-sized spheres of brilliant yellow flame burst forth from that arm, and they flew off into the distance with a low, screeching whine that was punctuated by several rumbling explosions and screams of pain, sending even more dust and debris into the air. ¡°Now, where were we? Oh yeah!¡± Came the voice once more, and the most terrifyingly evil face Lin Feng had ever beheld slowly came into his vision as the steel giant craned its head towards him. ¡°Who am I, fat little man?¡± The demon made flesh growled, as he raised his other arm in Ling Feng¡¯s direction. The colonel simply sat motionless on the ground, staring in mute stupefaction as a small, blueish spark of fire came to life from the tip of that arm. It seemed to have a breath of its own, this small tongue of flame, as it slowly flickered in and out. It was like a ferocious beast from legend come to life, here to consume his very soul. In and out, it breathed. In and out. ¡°Who am I?¡± Came the words once more, a ferocious roar that shook the air. Those final words sucked what little remained of Lin Feng¡¯s soul from his bones, leaving behind nothing but a limp, catatonic shell. Then scorching blue flames washed across him, and he knew nothing more. *** ¡°Fuck me, why me, boss?¡± Akatombe complained miserably as he sighed dejectedly, all the while staring in consternation at the damn swarms of pathetic little cowards who ran down the steep mountainside in all directions. They trampled over one another while hastily stripping off their own armor and throwing away their guns in an attempt to shed anything that might seem even remotely threatening, heedless of anything other than the most basic instinct for survival. Finally, they had become acquainted with a simple truth that had taken Akatombe himself 84 stitches, 12 broken bones, and gallons of gratuitously spilled blood to finally understand. When the Boss comes for you, you either run or you die like a dog. Only, at this particular moment that same life sustaining principle just so happened to be royally fucking him over. ¡°Dammit, what 90% casualty rate? Fuckall if I know what that is, in this shitpool!¡± Groaning hoarsely, Akatombe looked down to check his ammo. 45% remaining. Ah, damn. If he returned to the Boss with even a single bullet remaining, there¡¯d be hell to pay. Would the Boss understand if he calmly explained that he¡¯d blown up anything that could be blown up, and ruthlessly crushed anything that seemed even remotely threatening? Hell no. Of course not. So, what now? There only remained one solemn resolution scorched deep, oh so deeply within Major Ombue ¡°Warthog¡± Akatombe¡¯s heart. Especially after today, he¡¯d resolved even more firmly to never, ever piss off the Boss. With another helpless sigh, he once again readied his weapons systems as he resignedly - though some might say desperately - lumbered forward. ¡°Stop, you damn cowards. Come back! I have to kill you all! Please! It¡¯s you or me, dammit! Stop!¡± And thus the Legend of the Warthog lives on. Chapter 33 - The Game of Life Chapter 33 - The Game of Life Glass Plateau, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 22:27 It was a thick, dense darkness that blanketed the landscape now. Not that the evening itself was lacking the means of illuminating itself, with neither stars nor moon to shine their glory upon the cruel scene of man slaughtering man in that ancient contest of wills. Such are the capricious whims of war. If anything, the exact opposite held true. Though night was still burning with the beginnings of the radiation storm, the otherworldly streams of green and blue lightning spilling across the roiling sky above were not yet brilliant enough to offset the constant barrage of molten fire as it scorched a blinding trail across the cold, snow-filled air. The superheated laser beam seemed to hungrily devour space as it soared in an impossibly straight line to its target, discharging all of its incandescent fury for the span of a few seconds before slowly dispersing into a white-hot afterimage burned into the eyes of every spectator. That would only last for the space of a few breaths, before inevitably the next flurry of starfire roared on its way anew, splitting the cold, snow-riddled air and spelling fiery doom for a new target. ¡°Sir, fuel cells are stable but the cooling chambers are showing signs of failure. Temperature readings are reaching critical levels, and the core nucleus is beginning to grow unstable. At the current rate of fire, critical mass and subsequent catastrophic containment failure is imminent!¡± came a nervous voice from behind my left shoulder. I nodded disinterestedly as I kept my eyes fixed upon the grand scene laid out before me. ¡°Sir-¡± came the anxious voice once more, a little louder this time. ¡°Enough, captain,¡± I said lightly, though the steely undertones were unmistakable, shifting my gaze minutely let the man see that I meant it. ¡°You have your orders.¡± The officer flinched back, immediately saluted, then turned around and left at a brisk pace. I returned my gaze to the tragic spectacle taking place on the valley below. The tattered formations of the United Federation Army¡¯s 6th, 12th, 17th divisions were a writhing mass of bleeding flesh. The edges of the formation were visibly withering under the constant harassment of enemy small arms fire. Mercifully, the enemy still kept enough of a distance gap that most of their shots were wildly inaccurate. That was only a small mercy, since part of the reason for this were the thumping echoes - sonic booms - that would ring out from the center of that milling mass of desperately fleeing soldiers before bouncing from the walls below the plateau where we stood watching helplessly. Another dozen or so such explosions beat their familiar drumbeat, and a chorus of screams from the wounded and dying quickly followed. The poor bastards weren¡¯t even making an attempt at firing back anymore. Hell, half of them weren¡¯t carrying any firearms at all, panic having taken over from their training as they dropped all their weapons and fled for the hills, for the treeline - anywhere but that blood-splattered slaughter field, where the relentless hammer of an avenging god ruthlessly slammed their bodies into bloody ragdolls and scattered what little will to resist or fight was left. The strategic value of using wide-area suppressing fire against a demoralized opponent was amply demonstrated by the spectacle laid out before my eyes. What had previously been one of the most well trained, well equipped fighting forces on Earth had now turned into a mindless mob with only the most basic instinct for survival driving its every action. Rallying such a force would prove near impossible, were I even inclined to do so. Hah. Like hell I would. Though the burning cinders of my heart had been somewhat pacified with the constant pillars of light and subsequent embers of fire spreading across the hidden enemy artillery emplacements, this war of mine was still far, far from done. I had made them bleed, but I still had not made them suffer, not really. Not in the Michael Lee fashion. Certainly not in Seth the Godslayer, the Devourer of Souls style. In the end, I would make them rue the day they crossed my path. Phantom meat puppets or evil soul god-like entities alike. I would make them watch as I crushed their precious Labyrinth of Souls in my fist and stuffed it down their throat. This was just beginning. Now, it was time to end it. Unconsciously, my gaze turned towards the west. It was there where I had placed all my chips. This entire battle would be won or lost in one single series of hair-raising, spine-tingling moves. It was like domino, and I had already set the pieces into motion. Now it was all a matter of letting the pieces fall where they may. Most modern war strategists will tell you that there is only one true certainty in war: There are no certainties. It was true. Each battle was a living thing, an entire organism that fed upon its every engagement. It swallowed men along with their hopes and dreams, crushing them within its gigantic maw and spitting out nothing but broken vestiges, mere remnants of what had once been human. What was left behind no longer bore any resemblance to such, for war knew its craft well. War was hunger. Conflict resolution? Only morons or blind idealists still believed that war was about that. Every scarred veteran will laugh bitterly if ever you spout such nonsense in front of them. They will cackle their heart out until tears ran down their crusty, sun-beaten cheeks. Then, if and only if you are watching very carefully, you will see it. A fleeting glimpse of the true face of war, set loose upon the world for one single, shuddering breath. War was terror. It was an instant of blinding realization of the fragility of your mortal coil. It was a baptism of blood as your friends and brothers in arms spilled their crimson life upon the thirsty sands beneath. War was madness. Chaos would swallow every conscious thought until all that was left upon the field of battle would be mindless automatons who somehow still knew how to lift a gun and snuff out another human life. War was greed. It is said a fearsome tyrant once had his cannons engraved with the words, ¡°Ultima ratio regum.¡± - the last argument of kings. War was not about resolution. If it were, this world would have found lasting peace over five thousand years ago, never to know the meaning of this barbaric, archaic term, ¡°war¡±. No, war was about breaking the will of your opponent under your own, imposing your own tyrannical resolve over the rest of the world. Because right lay cradled within the fist of might. Then again, they say strength ultimately prevails, that all the factors and elements must be lined up just so in order to clinch the win, to gain win the grace of the goddess of victory. Bullshit. I knew war for what it truly was. It was a contest of wills alright, but its elements are nothing as stale and boring as the set pieces everyone kept analyzing and scrutinizing. War was a fire that consumed everything in its path, and if you didn¡¯t want to become part of its discarded ashes, you needed to become the catalyst. War was a clash of wills, a test of strength. Not of intellect, nor wisdom. Not wealth, nor resources. It was about will. The madness that allowed you to delude yourself into believing beyond all shadow of doubt that it was your god given right to impose your will upon the rest of the world. It is why emperors are born, not made. My musings were rudely interrupted by a thundering explosion that made the world around me shudder violently. A translucent EM field crackled and whined as the containment shield rerouted power from its energy generator to sustain the barrier. That had been all that kept my current location, along with 4 quadcannon laser batteries and their core reactors, from turning into a flaming inferno. ¡°General, we¡¯ve been hit by multiple shells in a coordinated assault from long range artillery emplacements. Our laser batteries are unable to counter-attack due to the terrain, and our missile launchers are unable to get a fix upon their coordinates,¡± came the frantic report. Unbidden, a data report from my previous life came rushing to my mind. Given that Akatombe would deal with the main enemy artillery force, I should now be facing their auxiliary artillery unit: twelve ML412 166mm Howitzers, each with a range of 12.2 miles. The shells each Howitzer fired were 1.15 meters long, 166mm in diameter and weighed over 40 kilograms. In short, they would pack one hell of a punch. ¡°Sir, our EM fields were not designed to withstand sustained assaults,¡± continued the voice, and mentally I agreed. With a standard rate of fire, we wouldn¡¯t last the hour. Perhaps 46 minutes? ¡°Should we sound the order for a general retreat?¡± came the hesitant query. That would buy us well over six miles of scrambling back over rocky terrain while the hidden enemy forces sent to flank us closed in upon our sides, all the while shell after shell would scatter what little resistance we could muster while retreating. Been there, done that. Hell if I would lose over sixty thousand men in another disastrous retreat. ¡°General?¡± ¡°You have your orders,¡± I stated coldly, not shifting my gaze in the slightest. At least, the routing troops on the valley below were spared from the deadly shower of explosions and began to make better speed towards us as the enemy artillery focused their barrage on our own laser batteries. ¡°Continue to fire.¡± Stiff silence hung in the air for a moment before I heard a forceful, ¡°Yes sir!¡± from behind me, then rapidly retreating footsteps. Maybe I wouldn¡¯t make a half-bad tyrant emperor myself. Heh. A pity then, that I had no such ambitions. All I truly wanted was to watch my opponent bleed and die under my feet before I followed him into the grave. That is all. I¡¯m a simple man, with simple ambitions. In order to achieve that, however, I would need to employ every understanding of war I had at my disposal. It would push my abilities to their limits. And thus, I wisely chose to follow the strategy which would save my skin. I stood there and waited. I had already placed all my chips upon the most unlikely of champions. He was well past middle age, with no particularly remarkable physical abilities. No admirable displays of strength, no legendary feats of martial prowess. By most measurable physical standards, he could only be described as average. However, if anyone could be described as an avatar of war, it would be one Dominik Stahl. That was one tough son of a bitch, and either he would win this war for me, or he¡¯d burn the world to ashes in the doing. ¡°Your move, Stahl. Make it count,¡± I whispered, as my eyes lingered over that distant horizon where the fates of nearly half a million lives would be decided. *** Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 22:25 Dominik Stahl suppressed the niggling desire to scratch his neck, instead focusing his attention upon the shadows beyond the river that lay before him. It was a pregnant silence that stretched across the banks of the Yangtze river as darkness slowly crept up upon the eerily quiet forest. ¡°Sir-¡± came the nervous voice from his left, only to be instantly pre-empted by Stahl¡¯s raised forefinger. It had been a silent, restless vigil of nearly half an hour now. The initial battle lust had cooled down as his troops slowly relaxed, like the coils of a spring that had been stretched too far. They had initially been expecting an all out assault across the fords of the Yangtze River. However, immediately upon arrival Stahl had issued dozens of orders, spreading his units out in a three-mile wide circumference around him. Then, they had sat there and waited. Then waited some more. Eventually, all the soldiers began to ease off on the trigger, letting their rifles drop from their shoulders, slowly stretching their shoulders and wiping the sweat off their clammy brows. In all their eyes, Stahl could see a hidden glimmer of disappointment. They had been ready for an all-out war, and what they got was a waiting game. Stahl suppressed a wry smile, his hand unconsciously flicking a small, dark object within it. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Likely not a single soul under his command, from his second in command all the way to the rawest recruit pulled straight from boot camp into the maws of hell itself, knew exactly the harrowing ordeal that lay ahead of them. Of course, Stahl knew. He understood completely what his role would be in the coming night, and he had spent the past few hours preparing himself. When Stahl had been pulled aside shortly before he had set out with his troops, the General had laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder and uttered a single sentence in his ear. The words were simple, the idea typically uncomplicated, as the General was wont to do. Its execution would be hell itself. Glass Plateau, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 20:04 ¡°Stahl, stand firm,¡± the General said softly, almost casually, squeezing his shoulder once before dropping something into Stahl¡¯s hand. Without further ado and with one last exchange of looks, Michael Lee spun on his heels and waved a hand over his shoulder, dismissing him. Stahl had an ominous feeling as soon as he heard the General¡¯s words. However, the moment the General had casually handed him the objects his trembling fist now held in a deathgrip, Stahl¡¯s blood had run cold and his heart had seized within his chest. Wait, how many were there this time? His pulse suddenly became erratic as his fist tightened over the objects and found to his shock that there were actually three. Three at once! That had never happened before! Amsterdam, Dubai, Alaska - all those had only merited a measly one for each. Even the soul-curdling ordeal in Bohemia Plains had only rated two. Just two, and he¡¯d considered himself fortunate to survive with only 27 stitches, 44 fragments of shrapnel extracted from his flesh, and second degree burns across 24% of his body. Just what kind of hellhole was the General sending him into this time around? Three? Impossible! How could he possibly overcome such insanity? Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 22:25 After barely suppressing a grimace at the unpleasant memory and not for the first time within the last few hours, Stahl wondered if he¡¯d made the right choice in dedicating his life to follow the footsteps of General Michael Lee. It wasn¡¯t that it was an onerous task. Stahl did not mind back-breaking labor, nor did he fear death or torture. By this point in his military career, neither did he care about wealth or fame. Instead, what prompted Dominik Stahl to constantly question his current course in life was mostly derived from, of all things, a sense of wonder. It was the quiet admiration with which he followed the General¡¯s orders, minutiously studying them and exerting the full power of his impressive intellect and experience. Eventually, he would almost invariably arrive at the same conclusion. They were simple orders, an off-handed stroke from the brush of genius that was Michael Lee. The brilliance would come later, with all the glitter and glory that followed. This was merely a simple, ordinary affair. How wrong he had been for countless times. Dominik Stahl was not a vain man at all. He was an uncomplicated man, with simple tastes and few ambitions. Still, standing by the shadow of the General made him completely doubt his own competency at the only two passions that still smoldered deep within his heart. They were both cradled within his hands right at this moment. His left hand held a SIG327, the standard issue sidearm for United Federation Officers. He could count all the times he¡¯d discharged this weapon in the fingers of one hand. It was a source of quiet pride for him. He had seldom needed to be directly involved in any of his battles. His talents lay in far more important, higher pursuits than personally flinging lead at enemies one by one. He was a born leader and a strategist in the art of war, and this handgun represented his dedication to fulfill both roles. In this aspect of his life, the General constantly made Stahl feel out of his depth, as though watching a massive peak rising up before him. The consummate strategist and leader that he was, it was his life¡¯s ambition to reach its summit, to conquer its treacherous peaks. However, every time he gained an inch through an agonizing process that involved constantly challenging his own limits, it felt as though he would take a moment to look up and abruptly realized, much to his dismay, that the mountain had just become taller still. It both infuriated and frustrated him, to the point where he often wished he could just quietly put down his gun, give a nod in appreciation to the titan-made-flesh that was the General, then leisuredly turn around and walk away from it all. Such moments of doubt and weakness lasted for a mere heartbeat, before being ruthlessly crushed down by the weight of his pride in his craft, and his quiet yet unyielding ambition as a human being. Dominik Stahl refused to yield, and would never retreat. Not even when it was he himself who was his worst nemesis. After all, the mountain was simply there. It was his own unyielding heart which kept forcing him to throw himself upon those icy peaks. As for his right hand, it held within it his main passion, and what had been the driving force for much of his life. As the fingers on that hand slowly squeezed, he could feel the worn contours of the object - only one of three such which the General had seen fit to bestow on this occasion - dig comfortably into the skin of the palm of his hand. He rolled it around in his hand one last time, before slowly spreading his fingers open and dropping his gaze to study it once more, as he had already done countless times before. ¡°Three of them, this time,¡± he mused to himself, both exultant and deeply troubled. It was a round stone, black without a single hint of discoloration and about one inch in diameter. Slightly flat on its axis, its smooth surface seemed to absorb the light around it, thereby drawing his gaze even more strongly. Ridiculous, he thought to himself, but he let himself be pulled even deeper into his study of the rock he held. Upon closer study, the surface of the stone seemed to reveal small imperfections and cracks. They ran in snaking veins all across the rock, following invisible patterns that told of many, many years of countless manipulation. It was at this moment that one of the perimeter alarms he had ordered set out began blinking with a red light. Instantly, a wave of rustling clothes and metallic clicks covered the entire forest around Stahl as eager hands caressed their firearms, ready to coax them into deadly life at a moment¡¯s notice. Stahl didn¡¯t bother to lift his head from the stone he was watching. He could hear the nervous shuffling of feet from his aide and second in command, Captain Worthy. Of course, the good captain did not utter a single word. He was far too professional, and too much of a battle-proven veteran to commit such a blunder. Still, he was familiar with his superior¡¯s habits, and the more time Colonel Dominik ¡°Ironmask¡± Stahl spent studying the oddly shaped rock, the harder Captain Worthy found it to suppress the shivers that ran down his spine. After three minutes of torturous silence, during which three more proximity alerts had begun flashing urgently, not even Captain Worthy could stand it any longer. ¡°Sir?¡± came the low whisper, Worthy¡¯s voice hoarse with anticipation. ¡°What is it?¡± Stahl did not seem to hear the question, and remained absorbed in the rock he held in his hand, his index and middle fingers rhythmically flipping it over and over within his grasp. One more minute passed in such a fashion, during which Captain Worthy hardly dared to move his hand to wipe the many drops of sweat that beaded his forehead. He could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. Against his better judgment, he parted his lips to speak out once more when five more proximity alerts came to life, quietly screaming from the display monitor where they were burned into Captain Worthy¡¯s sight. No sooner had this happened, when Stahl flicked his hand towards the short-wave communication device held by Captain Worthy. ¡°Captain, 1st and 3rd Companies are to engage immediately.¡± Captain Arthur Worthy closed his gaping mouth and jumped to obey, rapidly manipulating the radio device¡¯s dials. Although the shortwave radio transmitter was an obsolete antique, heavy as a block of stone and barely capable of sending a signal over 3 miles, its lower frequency waves were mostly unaffected by external factors such as the radiation storm raging above. ¡°1st and 3rd Companies, open fire upon all hostiles, over,¡± Captain Worthy called energetically into the radio. ¡°1st Company, copy and over.¡± ¡°3rd Company, copy and over.¡± Immediately, a loud rumble of thunder shattered the silence of the night as the eight hundred men in 1st and 3rd Companies opened fire in a coordinated mass volley upon.. Upon what? Proximity alerts could issue an alarm when triggered, but as to what or who had set it off, who knew? Captain Worthy squeezed the radio in his hands hard as sweat began to trickle in small rivulets down his face. He turned his gaze from the darkness beyond his sight, realizing that he would never be able to physically see the enemy 1st and 3rd Companies were engaging. Then how had Colonel Stahl known the exact moment to issue the command? Was he firing as blindly as Captain Worthy himself felt? Captain Worthy shook his head jerkily, refusing to believe such a ridiculous notion. Surely, his superior had clear intelligence upon which he was basing his strategy. Turning his head in Colonel Stahl¡¯s direction, he let out a resigned sigh and shook his head to himself. But of course, had he really expected anything else? Colonel Stahl stood impassively in the same spot where he had been resting for the past half hour. Furthermore, his gaze was still entirely absorbed in his study of the oddly shaped stone. More precious seconds trickled by as the rapport of gunfire echoed from the distance. One minute. Two. Five. Just as Captain Worthy was about to crack his teeth in all his helpless gnashing, another proximity alert began to flash. ¡°Captain Worthy,¡± came the calm, impassive words. ¡°5th and 6th Companies are to advance and engage all hostiles upon the lower banks of the Yangtze.¡± ¡°Sir!¡± Captain Worthy hastily conveyed the orders. No sooner had received a reply from 5th and 6th Companies, however, when a new set of orders were issued to him. ¡°2nd Company is to cover 3rd Company¡¯s right flank and suppress any enemy forces seeking to engage from vector 223-6,¡± came the rapid set of commands. ¡°Yes sir!¡± Slightly flustered, Captain Worthy cranked the radio for all he was worth as he transmitted the new set of orders. The night came alive with new sounds of fighting. Low explosions could be heard arcing across the distance, and the loud barking of gunfire began to fill the air, adding to the confusion Captain Worthy felt. That, however, was only the beginning. ¡°7th Company is to open fire upon hostile targets on sector Bravo. 8th Company is to advance upon enemy fortified position at coordinates 224.221. 10th and 11th Companies are to engage enemies on sector Delta. 1st Company is to withdraw towards the southeast for one klick, then dig into defensive formations upon the rocky pass. 2nd Company is to converge on coordinates 221.223 and rendezvous with 3rd Company, suppressing pursuing enemy units. 4th Company is to..¡± It was the beginning of the longest night of Captain Worthy¡¯s life. Through it all, Colonel Dominik ¡°Ironmask¡± Stahl kept his unflinching gaze upon the round stone dancing upon his fingers. ¡°Three stones, is it General? I fear you may have overestimated my abilities,¡± Stahl murmured to himself, although a wistful smile flashed across his lips, too fast for anyone to notice. Dominik Stahl was a man of few extremes. Ironmask, they called him. It was because truly nothing seemed to ever shake the man. However, there were two passions which ruled over his life. One was the contest of wits and ultimately, of wills called war. The other, he held within his hand. A rock. Dark, smooth and unadorned, it enticed him and pulled at him with irresistible force. Ah, the General knew him well indeed. ¡°Three stones in the Game of Life,¡± Stahl whispered to no one, and his hand became a fist around the black object held within, trembling with barely suppressed excitement. ¡°Time to earn them.¡± Chapter 34 - The Game of Life (Part II) Chapter 34 - The Game of Life (Part II) Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 22:31 ¡°Major Liu, reports of multiple engagements all along the Yangtze River! Orders, sir?¡± Came the frantic call from behind him, but it was soon drowned out by the other half-dozen such frenzied reports, let alone the roaring of gunfire constantly filling the air all around him. ¡°Major, Unit 14 reports major troop movements from our eastern flank. They¡¯re asking permission to engage!¡± ¡°Advanced scouting post at 224.221 is reporting heavy incoming fire from several directions. They are requesting immediate assistance!¡± ¡°Sir, Units 22 and 24 have driven back the enemy towards coordinates 221.223 and are requesting permission to pursue!¡± The cacophony of urgent sitreps, calls for reinforcement, requests to engage and re-engage the enemy, and the such were simply too overwhelming. It seemed as though a wall of flesh was stretching dozens of arms towards Major Liu as his complexion grew even paler and small beads of sweat became veritable streams rolling down his face, forcing him to tie a red bandana - decorated with the motif of his Red Tiger Force - around his forehead. This was not supposed to happen. Initially, he had been ordered by Colonel Zhao to advance the assault elements of the Red Tiger Forces in a covert flanking maneuver that would trap the retreating enemy troops in a rectangle of fire and lead. Immediately and with much enthusiasm, Major Liu had personally led nearly 35,000 men in an all-out advance through what should have been virtually undetectable, and completely undefended wooded terrain, sheltered as it was by the Wei Hao Peaks and the Yangtze River. A rapid march of 2 to 3 hours, then they would lie in wait for the signal to mount an all-out assault upon the already confused and harried enemy. They would be the hammer to the main forces¡¯ Anvil, all the while their artillery ground the enemy to paste. In the end, Colonel Zhao had bragged about a casualty figure that would ascend to the heavens, 200,000 or more. This would be the beginning of a new legend, the Colonel had harrumphed loudly while giving his subordinates an expectant look, and as always Major Liu had been the very first to quickly catch on. He¡¯d instantly begun to shower praise and admiration over Colonel Zhao¡¯s incredible talent and bravery, somehow insinuating that he would upstage the Ice Emperor, Xiao Ming himself - without quite spelling it out that way, of course. No one wanted to cross that cold, cold bastard. Least of all Liu Chenji. Major Liu Chenji was, by all outward appearances, a capable enough officer. He followed instructions to the letter, never overextending or forgetting himself. This meant that he had never truly distinguished himself either, but that wasn¡¯t his purpose at all. All he yearned for was to reach a comfortable pension and enough seniority to buy himself a couple trophy wives to live out the rest of his otherwise trivial life in fat, indolent comfort. Liu Chenji knew he had no outstanding talents in the field of war. Neither was he intellectually gifted. He did not even possess the tiniest hint of a heroic streak in his soul, and he did not feel overly wronged by life or fate by this. In fact, this barely even concerned him. All he wanted was to get by doing as little as possible while earning as much as he could. This very practical attitude, in turn, allowed him to gain an appropriate view of himself and thus further develop the single ability he did possess: bootlicking. Liu Chenji was a master at fawning over others, especially if it would lead to his own advancement in the wake of someone else¡¯s rising star. Thus, when the then Liutenant Liu had met Colonel Zhao while the latter was still a mere captain, it had been the birth of a new breed of asslicking. By displaying a shameless facility to kiss his superior officer¡¯s ass, he had smoothly risen up the ranks of the military. Though his colleagues had mocked his brown-nosing ways behind his back in the past, they could no longer afford to do so, and instead began to brown-nose Major - and soon to become a Colonel, after this glorious battle - Liu Chenji. Indeed, this battle would usher in a new era of military achievements and subsequent riches for Liu Chenji. The first sign that something was wrong had been the muted blip from his personal com device conducting its routine perimeter scan and suddenly reporting an unidentified electronic signature. It nearly gave him a heart attack. As soon as he¡¯d seen the blinking light in his com display, he had thought it was an enemy claymore mine ready to vaporise him in a gruesome shower of flesh and blood within the next second. In his long military career, he¡¯d watched plenty of people to whom it had happened. In fact, it was one of his own favorite tactics against an enemy. As he squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, seconds passed while the soldiers around him slowly began to share bewildered looks. It hadn¡¯t been a trap. Then, what was it? Surely, something must have triggered the perimeter scan? In the end, they¡¯d found a tiny proximity alert scanner buried under a nondescript bush not ten feet away from them. At first, he had been ready to order the imbecile who had deployed the scanner to explain why the hell he would plant such a device when engaged in a rapid advance through neutral territory, when it had hit him. Why would he, indeed? Such devices were almost outdated, since their usage had seen a steep decline upon the advent of more technologically superior tools. Upon closer inspection, the device hadn¡¯t been one of theirs. Instantly, Major Liu had passed down orders for all troops to be alert and ready for enemy scouts. They absolutely had to catch them before their enemy caught wind of their presence. Thankfully, the radiation storm overhead would prevent such scouts from relaying the information back to the enemy command. All troops had resumed their march with renewed urgency, as it was essential that they remain undetected. Instead, and much to their dismay and bewilderment, they¡¯d found more and more of the proximity alert scanners, dotted here and there throughout the forest. Just as they stumbled across one more such, the sounds of gunfire had erased all trace of Major Liu¡¯s constant confusion, and instead replaced it with a strange combination of fear and excitement. Enemy contact! Liu Chenji had instantly been able to recognize the fact that it didn¡¯t seem like a whole division. Rather, it seemed like a couple thousand men at most. Perhaps an advanced scouting detachment sent to prepare an alternate escape route? In any case, Major Liu had cooly gestured to one of his subordinates, and orders had quickly been relegated for two units to detach from their force and suppress the enemy while the rest continued to move on with their main mission. Now that stealth seemed impossible, they would have to rely on speed! Nearly 5,000 men had swiftly moved out to deal with the enemy. Even if they could not eliminate the threat, they would be able to suppress the scouting force¡¯s movements while Major Liu pounced upon the enemy¡¯s main army from its flanks. That had been the beginning of the most nightmarish succession of events in Liu Chenji¡¯s life. Enemy units would appear and disappear like ghosts, attacking from one position, then the next. As soon as he detached units to deal with a perceived threat, they received word of an enemy ambush, or yet another deadly encounter with this ghost army. Even when they managed to pursue an enemy contingent, they would simply lose all contact with their units and subsequently arrive at the scene to find their men dead to a man in a grisly scene of death and mayhem. This was cold blooded slaughter at its best. Let alone flanking the enemy within the next 2 hours, Major Liu realized after a mere half-hour, that the situation was critical. Somehow, the enemy had managed to quietly infiltrate over 40,000 troops into a region his own scouts and forward elements had booby trapped and warded off against just such an incursion. No, it could even be as high as 50,000 troops. ¡°Intelligence reports be damned,¡± he growled miserably to himself, cradling his throbbing temples between his shaking fingers, ¡°I have more and more of the ghostly bastards crawling from under every single tree and rock in his god forsaken forest.¡± As if to further accentuate his point, a new savage barrage of gunfire erupted from the woods to his left. He fancied that he could even see the flashes of light through the thick undergrowth. That was just too close for comfort! ¡°Eh, Captain Han, we will withdraw towards the other side of the Yangtze River and fortify our positions. Meanwhile, send urgent word via aerial couriers both to Colonel Zhao and Colonel Hong Fei that the enemy has positioned over 60,000 men within these woods and we have the opportunity to annihilate them here and now. Our troops will engage in a holding action while they lead their forces to slaughter the enemy here!¡± Mechanized aerial couriers had the limitation of range and were reserved for emergency situations when normal routes of communication were severed, such as this case. Although they posed a great danger of being intercepted by the enemy, by this point Liu Chenji figured that both sides had practically revealed their whole hand to one another. It was not the time for timidity. Instead, it was the time to ruthlessly crush the enemy resistance! Colonel Zhao still had over 40,000 men lying in wait back across the Yangtze River. As for Colonel Hong Fei, he should still be pursuing the remnant of the enemy¡¯s main army, all the way from the Wei Hao Peaks down to the Glass Plateau. That meant there were over 70,000 men a mere hour or two from this location on the other side of this forest under Colonel Hong¡¯s command. ¡°Try to kill off Major Liu Chenji of the Red Tiger Forces with just 70,000 men, will you?¡± Major Liu growled furiously, then flinched miserably and ducked as a stray bullet ricocheted not twenty feet from where he stood. ¡°Damn you, Federation dogs! You may have forced me back a step for now, but I will return and crush you utterly. Utterly!¡± Turning around like a dog with his tail whipped, Major Liu Chenji hunched his shoulders inward while leading his men back towards the fords of the Yangtze River they¡¯d just crossed. Glass Plateau, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:06 ¡°General, our EM fields have reached critical levels. The generator is no longer able to..¡± a young officer cried out desperately, waving his hands as though he would somehow bodily urge me into action if only he could. I must ignore this idiot, I thought to myself. Even if he¡¯s too stupid to obey orders and stay put, even if he¡¯s just a fragment of soul energy insistently trying to wriggle itself under my skin like the crabs on a cheap hooker, I can stay calm, remain focused, keep cool. Yeah, I¡¯m better than this. I don¡¯t need to resolve my every itch through acts of premeditated murder. Just as I found my fingers unconsciously reaching towards the gun holstered by my hip, just as naturally as scratching an itch, the constant barrage of explosions outside our EM field abruptly stopped. The captain stopped in mid-sentence as he stared in confusion at the spiraling tendrils of blue-white energy crackling through the energy barrier, then slowly dissipating as a disturbing silence fell upon the ridge we stood upon. ¡°What the feck is this now?¡± came a muffled voice from somewhere in the ranks, voicing the same question running through everyone¡¯s mind - except mine. ¡°Well done, Stahl,¡± I grinned, as I turned around and began to issue orders one after the other. In short order, our whole camp came to life as men scuttled back and forth under my steely gaze. ¡°Now, you just need to hold.¡± Upper Wei Hao Peaks, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:06 ¡°What the hell is that idiot doing?¡± Colonel Zhao screamed in rage as he smashed yet another display screen under his furious fist. ¡°How could he have stumbled across a hidden enemy contingent of 60,000 men? Why there, of all places?¡± He shifted his gaze to another screen, glaring at the map displayed before him in complete fury. He had gone against orders to commit almost half his forces to this assault force. Should they be inefficient, or even worse, meet defeat while maneuvering in blatant disregard to his instructions, he could end up losing his commission. Or even worse, even his life would be threatened! All these painstaking years of taking mad, desperate gambles to achieve the heights an ordinary commoner, little more than a street urchin, could never even hope to aspire, and it would all be brought down by an incompetent fool blubbering in panic before a force that would likely only number 40,000 at most. He knew that coward Liu Chenji¡¯s true colors, and while he knew the enemy numbers in that accursed forest were well under 50,000, let alone 60,000, he was also well aware that his entire bloody military career, and his glorious future hung upon a thread from the hands of this clown. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. I should have kicked him out on the street the first time I saw his sniveling, brown-nosing face Should Colonel Zhao take the rest of his forces to save that fool from the deathtrap he¡¯d dug for himself, what justification could possibly be rendered unto the Ice Emperor¡¯s unforgiving gaze? Surely, the order to run down the enemy would come down any second now, as soon as the radiation storm passed its course. Although at first Colonel Zhao had raged and fumed at the green-tinted clouds above, wondering how the heavens could be so willing to curse his endeavors that they¡¯d deny him the opportunity to receive the command to finally rush into battle and finish off all his opponents, it now became a life-saving grace which shielded him from having to answer to General Ming¡¯s summons. Still, the storm could not last forever, and even if it did, he knew well that one way or another the Ice Emperor would find a way to notify him when the time came. Earlier, he had been impatiently pacing back and forth while fuming, but now cold sweat rolled down his neck as he stared at the map, wondering how he could save this impossible situation from the disaster it was headed to. Then, suddenly, inspiration struck! ¡°Quick, zoom out of sector Z-4, rotate to vector 23,¡± he called out, a hint of hope in his voice. As the rugged terrain of the Wei Hao forests and the Yangtze River gradually shrunk in size and his perspective shifted to the northeast, he saw a series of blue squares nestled within a tiny valley between the holds of one of the lower Wei Hao Peaks. ¡°Identify that unit,¡± Colonel Zhao ordered agitatedly, not daring to believe his good fortune! ¡°Sir, instruments show they¡¯re the 11th auxiliary artillery unit, 12 166mm Howitzers and their supporting-¡± Zhao raised a hand to cut off any further chatter, and instead immersed himself in his own thoughts. It seemed the heavens had not truly forsaken him! They had left him a way, surely it was a way out of this mess! Lifting his head with a new glow of hope alighting upon his face, he called out, ¡°Captain Yan, you are to immediately send an aerial courier both to General Xiao and Colonel Hong Fei. Scouting units from the Red Tiger Forces have detected a major enemy incursion headed through the Wei Hao Forest in the direction of the auxiliary artillery unit. In order to save these key assets, I, Colonel Zhao Luqing shall engage in an emergency interception maneuver. Requesting urgent aid immediately, over 80,000 enemy troops reported on the move.¡± Grinning fiercely at his own ingenuity, Colonel Zhao turned around to issue the orders for his troops to move immediately. After all, if that bitch of a storm overhead happened to disperse before he arrived at the forest, there would be hell to pay. He would arrive at the Wei Hao Forest and rendezvous with Colonel Hong Fei¡¯s forces, as well as the rest of his own Red Tiger Forces. They would then crush the enemy forces within the forest, then strike in an all out attack against the exposed flank of the enemy¡¯s retreating main army. Afterwards, Zhao Luqing would bask in all the glory from the innumerable casualties he would inflict upon the enemy, while throwing the grossly incompetent and insubordinate Major Liu Chenji at the Ice Emperor¡¯s feet to placate his anger. Yes, the heavens were righteous. Truly righteous! Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:06 ¡°8th, 9th and 11th Companies are at 35% strength. 1st and 3rd Companies at 55% strength. 4th, 6th and 12th companies are at 70%. The rest of the companies are at over 90% operational strength." Loses are within optimal parameters. Stahl¡¯s mind rapidly absorbed the information as he compared it with his own mental inventory of his own forces, brutally running a tally in his head of those who had been killed or wounded and were unable to continue fighting. Even those who might otherwise have been able to survive were left behind as his forces swiftly transitioned from one site to the next with lightning precision and timing. Enemy troops acting within expected moves. Spring is born anew, and a new Game of Life parts its delicate petals to taste fresh blood. ¡°Sir, the last of the straggling companies, 14th company has rejoined the force and taken up position as ordered,¡± came Captain Worthy¡¯s hoarse voice, barely more than a whisper. The man looked far worse than he sounded, however, as his eyes were bloodshot and his face was completely bloodless. ¡°Well done, Captain. Now, order all units to stand by. Fire on my orders, concentrated salvoes on each priority target,¡± Stahl called out dispassionately. His gaze remained distant, his hand constantly flicking the small stone held within his hand. Captain James Worthy found himself incapable of believing what he had been through in the past hour alone. All their units had left their orderly positions within the grid and engaged in a series of bizarre maneuvers, sometimes attacking, sometimes defending. A company would withdraw towards one direction, only to suddenly reverse its course at twice the speed the next movement. Two companies would fight side by side, only to split apart and circle in opposite directions, only to meet once more at the end of their respective loops. If it had been speeding vehicles, Captain Worthy would have expected frantic horns blaring in panic and the screeching of tires accompanied by the heartfelt curses of dozens of irate drivers. Instead, he¡¯d watched in stupefaction and wonder as each company in their division smoothly transitioned from one place to the next as though gliding over rails, never colliding, and often even assisting one another in the most unexpected and incredible of fashions. For instance, 5th company had come under sustained enemy fire only to find itself relieved by the 8th and 9th companies engaging their attackers from their rear. Then all three companies had dissolved into the trees around them, leading on another force of attackers hot on their trail straight into an ambush by 2nd company. Meanwhile, 5th company had pushed forward and arrived just in time to assist 11th company in wiping out the remnants of an enemy unit that had been pursuing 1st company. In the meantime, 8th company had engaged yet another enemy unit, leading them towards another ambush site where 3rd and 6th company were already mopping up the last remnants of a enemy unit. It was madness, but there was a method to this madness. Although it escaped the limited tactical grasp and intellectual acuity possessed by Captain James himself, at the very least he could recognize certain patterns and elements which stood firmly rooted in the midst of the all-consuming chaos. It may even have been beautiful, had it not been so thoroughly soaked in blood. ¡°Yes sir,¡± Captain Worthy saluted, then left to issue the orders. Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:14 Looking back over his shoulder at the straggling line of confused soldiers, Major Liu once again cursed under his breath. Finally, they had made it back to the Yangzte River. Though its waters spanned a wide stretch across the forest, in this one particular spot the sand and rocks beneath had formed a natural bridge that allowed a man to cross to the other side by foot. The deepest part of the river barely reached up to the waist, and though it would make for slow progress through the nearly 300 feet that the gigantic river spanned, the natural bridge was wide enough that it allowed for hundreds of soldiers to cross at the same time shoulder by shoulder. It was for this reason that this route had been chosen to expediently move the troops across the Yangtze River and to the Wei Hao Forest beyond. Little had Major Liu imagined that just over an hour after they¡¯d left its banks, they¡¯d be back while licking their wounds and watching over their shoulders for pursuit. Fortunately, they had evaded encirclement thanks to Major Liu¡¯s decisive leadership in unilaterally withdrawing in one direction. God knows how many units they¡¯d lost in the first few minutes of engagements as enemy forces had appeared out of thin air and vanished just as quickly, though not before mercilessly executing all of his men of course. 60,000 men? Hell, more like 100,000 men! Or even more! They were simply everywhere! They simply had to retreat as quickly as possible, and the fact that they¡¯d encountered no enemy opposition for the past quarter hour meant they had finally left their pursuers behind. That was all well and good. He would be back with his own reinforcements, and then they¡¯d settle accounts! ¡°Captain, tell those lazy ingrates to hurry up or I¡¯ll leave them for the Federation dogs to chew over and spit out into the Yangtze,¡± Major Liu snarled furiously, while looking ahead at the other side of the river crossing, where far in the darkness he could distinguish the gloomy outline of the treeline promising relief from pursuit and safety at long last. ¡°Yes sir!¡± The man saluted and turned around to transmit the order when a nova of dazzling brilliance suddenly burst into life in the air above Major Liu¡¯s miserable line of troops slowly trudging across the Yangtze River. Thousands of eyes followed the slow, steady descent of the flare that had illuminated the entire river, bring abrupt and brutal clarity into the night. ¡°Fire!¡± a cool, steely voice called out into the stunned silence. ¡°All companies, FIRE!¡± echoed another voice, and thunder answered his call. A deafening series of booms echoed across the Yangze River as its waters were stained a deep, crimson shade. This natural crossing where the river ran shallow enough that it only reached to the height of a man¡¯s waist lay completely bogged down by the shattered remains of human bodies convulsing in one final, futile bid to leave the deathtrap. Thousands of voices cried out as one as some reached for their firearms, while others crouched behind the fragile shelter of another man¡¯s shadow, but most simply scrambled and desperately dug their way through the mass of broken bodies in a mad frenzy as a final, pitiful attempt to get away from the scene of this wholesale slaughter as the combined fire of 12,000 rifles spewing forth a deadly storm of bullets at a rate of 950 a minute roared into life. There was nowhere to run for cover, for the Yangtze River spanned a wide swath of land that only happened to widen even further as it ran shallow through this one section of its course. The trees beyond offered only doom and perdition, as those quiet woods that had seemed to offer shelter only moments before now spit forth a hail of thunder and bullets that scythed down rank upon rank of soldiers. *** 6 minutes 54 seconds and over 6,000,000 hybrid polymer casings later, a handful few fortunate survivors managed to lose themselves between the trees and the darkness. Moments later, the flare finally set down upon the mangled corpse of one particular man. By the blood-splattered ruins of the uniform his body bore the man had been a high officer, likely a major. Though only half his face remained, utter shock and disbelief could be plainly seen in what was left of it. Incongruously, a bandana with a tiger motif printed across it lay relatively unblemished around his forehead. ¡°Captain, order all units to immediately set out to the northeast. We have a long night ahead of us,¡± called out a cool, emotionless voice. There was only silence in the air as the flare finally began to flicker before dying and plunging the river into sweet, merciful darkness once more. ¡°Come, Captain. Watered by our enemies¡¯ blood, Spring is under full bloom and the blazing of Summer is yet to come,¡± Stahl noted once more, a tone of grim satisfaction in his voice. ¡°The Game of Life awaits. It has barely even begun.¡± ¡°God help us all,¡± answered Captain James Worthy, and every single soldier under his command instantly and wholeheartedly agreed. Author''s Notes: I apologize in advance for any errors in this chapter. It''s been a hectic week and I just now finished writing this. Kindly do point out any errors and I will do my best to fix them post haste. As for further insights on the Game of Life, Alas, I couldn''t quite squeeze it in. Next chapter for sure! Thanks for reading. Chapter 35 - The Game of Life (Part III) Chapter 35 - The Game of Life (Part III) Author''s Notes: I feel bad for the long wait, but hopefully further chapters rather than mere words can serve as a poor man''s apology. Also, I understand many readers'' frustration with the current arc, and have endeavored to find some compromise - a middle ground, if you will. As an overmatched writer struggling with his own creative process, such compromise is difficult to define, and harder still to achieve. As an avid reader myself, I rather sympathize with the thoughts of many. It will likely take me a handful more chapters to wrap up this arc and return to the main storyline. I admit I''ve learned much from it, yet at the same time some things won''t be rushed. Yangtze River, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:36 Corpses, nothing but corpses as far as the eye could see. They lay still and inert, stacked in piles of five or more, their tattered uniforms waving back and forth as the crimson water lapped at their wounds. The entire river crossing was filled to bursting with the bodies of fallen soldiers. His soldiers. Colonel Zhao Luqing¡¯s breathing grew ragged as his heart began to pump furiously, as though trying to pump out all the liquid fire that was coursing through his veins. His vision grew dim, veiled by a curtain of red that turned not only the river, but the whole night around him into a scarlet haze. ¡°Sir, initial casualty reports estimate that over thirty thousan-¡± With a furious roar, Colonel Zhao grabbed the officer delivering the report by the neck, then lifting him over his shoulders he threw him face-first into the blood-tinged waters of the Yangtze River. ¡°Who did this?¡± he growled between clenched teeth, his hands balling up into massive fists that trembled with rage seeking an outlet. ¡°S.. sir, beg your pardon,¡± came the stuttering reply from his left, ¡°the enemy contingent lay out a carefully planned ambush from the tree line and the crags to the right. From the positions and the tracks they left, it couldn¡¯t have been over 15,000 men.¡± Colonel Zhao turned his baleful stare towards this new incompetent idiot. ¡°You¡¯re telling me 15,000 Federation pigs slaughtered 35,000 of my own men in little over an hour with nothing but small arms fire? Are you telling me that¡¯s even remotely possible?¡± The man gulped visibly and shook his head mutely. ¡°It¡¯s obviously a trap. They left enough signs to make us misjudge their numbers. They probably have at least as many men as we currently have,¡± Colonel Zhao muttered, glancing over his shoulders at the 40,000 troops standing behind his shoulder. ¡°Sir, at least we have been able to track their current direction,¡± came the hesitant comment. ¡°You fool, they are obviously leading us to another ambush. Do you want be in the receiving end of their next slaughterhouse?¡± ¡°Ah, no. Of course not, sir. What will we do then?¡± Colonel Zhao gnashed his teeth. ¡°They¡¯re headed northeast. That¡¯s the direction the auxiliary artillery unit is at. Although they¡¯re important, we still have our main artillery unit currently positioning themselves on the Lower Wei Hao peak. Even if we lose this auxiliary artillery unit, we can¡¯t afford to fall prey to another such ambush.¡± Colonel Zhao turned his head towards the northeast, before slowly shaking his head. ¡°No, though it burns me to say it, we will wait until we rendezvous with Colonel Hong¡¯s forces. They should be here within the hour. Colonel Hong likely has already ordered the artillery unit to retreat and reposition at Hidden Valley to prepare for an imminent enemy strike. Meanwhile, we will encircle Hidden Valley. From there, we will fall on the enemy like tigers upon a startled hare.¡± ¡°What about the artillery unit, sir?¡± ¡°If they manage to hold until we arrive, then good.¡± ¡°And if they don¡¯t?¡± ¡°Then we will pour a thousand blood libations to mourn their passing,¡± came Colonel Zhao¡¯s fierce reply. ¡°I will have vengeance for my Red Tiger Force!¡± Hidden Valley, Wei Hao Region. Local Time: 23:59 ¡°Fecking Federation dogs, dirty sons of whores, all they do is lay these damned traps..¡± an ashen-faced soldier muttered bitterly as he dug through the rubble left by the latest explosion, which had buried at least a few dozen soldiers under a jumbled pile of broken limbs and bloodied rocks. ¡°Don¡¯t even know which way to turn no more man,¡± another man complained while marching past the grisly spectacle. ¡°Last time it was a claymore mine, took out two whole squads in the blink of an eye.¡± ¡°Yeh, least these you can see. Fecking claymore mines, last one killed that big bear chested fellow from 14th unit.¡± ¡°What the hell? That unit was at least 250 feet from the mine, wasn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yeh, much good it did him. Piece of shrapnel tore straight through his eye and into his brain. Didn¡¯t so much as squeak, fell down and began to twitch. Took a couple minutes to finally stop, poor bastard.¡± ¡°Goddamn, when we finally catch these federation bastards..¡± ¡°Yeah, we got over 100,000 men with us now, nowhere for them to run as they¡¯re running straight into Hidden Valley, where they¡¯ll be trapped by the granite face of the Wei Hao Peaks.¡± ¡°Good, it can be their tombstone then.¡± ¡°Woa.. hey, look!¡± A man suddenly tugged at his fellow soldier¡¯s arm and pointed upward. In the skies above, the radiation storm finally began to show signs of subsiding, the snaking vines of green lightning slowly fading in intensity as the opaque darkness of the night began to reign once more. ¡°Colonel Hong,¡± a rough voice called out from the middle of a massive formation of troops, though it could only be heard by the small circle of protective escorts carefully keeping watch as they advanced through the trees. ¡°We should make haste. If we allow the enemy to escape our encirclement, the Ice Emperor will have our heads.¡± Not only were both their armies completely out of position according to the original plan, when - not if - the Ice Emperor¡¯s scanners finally recovered full functionality and read the conditions on the field, his wrath would be unavoidable. ¡°You mean your head, Colonel Zhao,¡± a thin, wiry man with a thin mustache wrinkled his angular nose as he glanced at the man walking next to him. ¡°I was following my orders just fine until the emergency communication from your Red Tiger Forces reached me, forcing me to abandon my pursuit of the enemy to come to the rescue of your army and the auxiliary artillery contingent stationed at Hidden Valley.¡± Colonel Zhao gritted his teeth as he bit back a forceful reply, and instead glared at the thin man. He might as well have been glaring at a rock, for all the reaction he got. He was instead forced to swallow his anger and take a more conciliatory tone - for now. ¡°Now is not the time to bicker. Whether you came because of our communication or not, if we let this enemy slip past us, it will be the end for the both of us, and you know it. From the lack of any sounds of fire or battle, we must assume that they have yet to strike at our auxiliary artillery army entrenched within Hidden Valley. We¡¯ve already set a rough perimeter. There is no more time, we must signal the attack.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t expect me to bow down to the demands of your incompetence,¡± came the derisive reply from Colonel Hong as he turned his eyes upward towards the rapidly receding radiation storm. ¡°In brief moments, we may be to restore our short-range scanners. Thus we will be able to know exactly how many enemies we face, as well as the best tactic to employ.¡± ¡°How about the auxiliary artillery army?¡± growled Colonel Zhao. ¡°What of it?¡± was the cool reply. ¡°They must be saved if possible!¡± Zhao managed through gritted teeth, glaring fiercely. ¡°Calm yourself Colonel Zhao. There hasn¡¯t been any sign of enemy action or contact in the entire time we¡¯ve been advancing. We have already established a rough perimeter, and a few extra minutes won¡¯t make a significant difference in the outcome. What I.. ah, what WE need is to preserve as much of our fighting strength as possible.¡± Of course, that way you can point out my incompetence in losing so many men under my command, while you claim the role of saviour by exterminating the enemy army and barely sustaining any losses. ¡°That is unacceptable Hong. We move to strike now, dammit!¡± Colonel Zhao growled, advancing threateningly to loom over his physically unimposing fellow officer. ¡°You are free, of course, to command your own men as you will,¡± came the impassive reply. To his credit, even when confronted by the towering fury of Colonel Zhao of the Red Tiger Army, Hong didn¡¯t even bat a single eyelid. If anything, his eyes narrowed even further as the corners of his lips twitched ever so slightly towards a barely discernible, but definite sneer. ¡°Of course, my own troops will engage when and where I deem it most adequate.¡± ¡°Hong, you little snake -¡± came the heated words, but at that instant the sounds of distant gunfire and several explosions thundered in the air. While all the men present instinctively turned their heads towards the sound, the sounds of fighting rapidly multiplied, and after a few moments several bright flares flew into the air while alarm horns blared. Immediately after, a volley of explosions rocked the ground and massive pillars of fire bloomed in the forest ahead of them. ¡°Hssh. Hssh. Enemy force detected.. Engaging with main cannons.. Requesting assistance..¡± came the barely recognizable words through the radio, which had been dead until now. ¡°Communications are coming online back sir! We are receiving transmissions from the auxiliary artillery army! Also, General Ming¡¯s comms officer requests a status..¡± ¡°Colonel Hong, you don¡¯t want the auxiliary army to sustain unnecessary losses, and I will let you claim all credit for eliminating the enemy troops. However, we strike now! Otherwise, I will turn around right now and let you lose half your men to the 40-50,000 men army we are facing, and to hell with the consequences. There is a limit to how far I can be pushed!¡± Colonel Hong stood immobile for a long moment while he looked Zhao in the eye, coldly calculating in his mind. Of course, Hong knew perfectly well that if Zhao withdrew his forces, the man would be committing political suicide as likely all the blame for the past and future losses in this field of battle would be pinned solely on him. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. As pleasant as that would be to watch, Colonel Hong himself might lose a sizeable chunk of his own forces, as well as the damage to the auxiliary artillery army. Depending on just how heavy those losses were, he might be gambling with his own future. ¡°Fine,¡± came the words from Colonel Hong, as a decision was finally reached. ¡°We strike. However, remember your words well Zhao. This is my show now.¡± Grimly vowing within his heart to one day pay back this humiliation, Colonel Zhao made no further comment as he nodded to the officers standing by for orders. ¡°All men to follow Colonel Hong into battle. Get all the men ready. We fight now!¡± ¡°Sir, we can no longer hold this position. We must retreat!¡± ¡°You will hold this ground to the last man,¡± came the reply, smooth and undisturbed by the chaos raging all around them. Stahl¡¯s expression remained as poised and unperturbed as a motionless pond, without the slightest ripple disturbing its surface. In such a fashion, five hours had raged on already, a battle of desperate extremes. The forces arrayed against them were seemingly endless. In the very beginning, they¡¯d begun with a stealthy assault against the unprepared defensive perimeter of the artillery army deployed within the valley. Even the ever stalwart Stahl had seemed somewhat disquieted as he gave out numerous orders to different coordinates, whereupon they would unfailingly find hidden enemy scouts and sentry posts. Armed with such fail proof intelligence, they had been able to disarm the enemy¡¯s defenses in a flash, and had even been able quietly take over the entire military post. With such dazzling success, by any common logic they should have rigged explosives to destroy the artillery pieces, then made a fast getaway before the enemy¡¯s reinforcements pounced upon them. After all, they had left a wide trail of blood and guts all the way to the Yangtze river, and every single man in their army knew the enemy would be upon them like dogs howling for blood. However, contrary to their expectations, and to everyone¡¯s shock, Commander Stahl had instead ordered the artillery pieces be manned, and begun to lay out an intricate web of defenses all about the immediate area. Clearly, this was tantamount to suicide! Their numbered at most 12,000 men after all the frantic battles they had been through, and though they¡¯d dealt far more than they¡¯d received, the men had been bled thoroughly, paying a heavy price for every casualty they¡¯d inflicted upon their enemy. As the men rushed to comply with their orders, a general sense of fervor arose among the men as they steeled themselves to face the oncoming tide. Perhaps this would be their last battle, after all. If they would go out in one last glorious flash of brilliance, then who better to lead them than the famed Hellhound, Ironmask Stahl? Indeed, as they¡¯d staged the first salvo of artillery fire and the emergency beacons, they had watched with blood-thirsty eyes as a seemingly endless wave of enemy reinforcements had streamed down the valley, and to their eventual doom. They had all watched with helpless frustration as thousands of their comrades were slaughtered like pigs under the butcher¡¯s knife as they sought to reach some desperate retreat in vain. Five hours of constant carnage, with one side desperately pushing forward in order to stop the deadly rain of fire and doom from the artillery emplacements that had mysteriously shifted from their original positions and seemed to always swoop upon them unawares to blast them into the next world; the defenders, on the other hand, fought tooth-and-nail, with eyes that stared unflinchingly at death as their defensive positions were slowly buried under an ever-increasing, appalling mass of dismembered corpses and smoking shells. All the while, Stahl continued to issue orders as calmly as before, even as the inevitable onslaught of the enemy advanced further still, to knock upon their very doorstep, and the final line of defense. The enemy now lay arrayed before them, shedding all pretense of order and structure. Instead, the seething masses of the enemy ranks resembled a giant beast glaring balefully at the hateful prey it had finally cornered after receiving countless wounds, not only to their flesh but more importantly, to their dignity and pride. The boastful numbers of 100,000 men had been severely culled, until little more than half now remained standing over the course of five hours. Once trapped within the deadly web spun by Stahl¡¯s cold, methodical genius, not only would escape be a fool¡¯s errant dream, but rather doom as they could feel the shadow of death slowly creeping up on them from what they had foolishly regarded as a mere insignificant force ripe for the plucking. Thus, they had pushed forward with mad desperation, in a headlong rush towards the only lifeline that lay before them - to completely eradicate their enemy before they could do the same to them. Equal measures of shock and dismay could be now seen on the blood-matted, haggard faces of the 50,000 or so troops surrounding the final defensive line Stahl had prepared. 2,000? Surely the ragtag remnants of the Federation troops couldn¡¯t number any more. Where was the mighty foe that had terrorized them even as they had been urged forward in a frantic bid for survival? 2,000 men, mostly wounded and bloodied, their bodies slumped over with exhaustion as they crouched low in a quiet wait for the final battle to unfurl its dreadful banner. Their eyes, however, told the harrowing tale of a death well earned. They silently counted off the unspeakable odds they had surmounted, and the glory of a fight worth dying for. To the shaken coalition army led by Colonel Zhao, it seemed as though even at the cusp of victory, only defeat lay before them, staring back hollow-eyed and silent. Colonel Hong might well have ordered an unconditional retreat well before they reached this point, fearful of the appalling casualty rate as they assaulted layer upon layer of defenses, each more harrowing than the last. However, Colonel Hong had himself been one of the first casualties of the clash, as a direct hit from an EM-piercing artillery shell had left nothing but ashes in its wake. Colonel Zhao lifted a trembling hand to his face, pausing in the motion to wipe off the blood that insidiously kept trickling down his face from a deep gash on his forehead to stare blankly into the palm of his hand. It was stained a dirty, grimy red as he¡¯d repeated the motion all night long to deal with the blood as it ran into his eye. That cut on his forehead, it came from a piece of shrapnel from that very same shell which had left Colonel Hong as a pile of cinders. A few more inches and it would have pierced directly into his brain. How fortunate he had felt then. How he had gloated over the fate of his rival, Hong. As he stared into the palm of his empty, trembling hand, Zhao couldn¡¯t help but shudder at the inexorable feeling of envy that had come to replace such wanton feelings instead. Endless envy, for after last night¡¯s ordeal, he almost wished for a quick death instead. He was ruined. Completely, absolutely, irrevocably ruined. His army in tatters, their morale shattered. Especially now as they at long last were able to confront their hated, yet dreadful prey. Just who had been the hunter and who had been the prey, this night? His command would be torn from his clutches, his honour dragged through the mud as he would likely face a military tribunal to answer for gross dereliction of duty, insubordination, and even outright treason. Not even his family would be spared, for though the government likely wouldn¡¯t stoop to such actions, the Ice Emperor would be sure to make his displeasure fully felt before delivering what at that point would be the merciful blade of the executioner. Zhao was, in fact, a dead man walking. As he lifted his gaze to stare balefully at his enemy across the short distance that separated them, Colonel Zhao slowly tightened his fist as he raised it, in preparation to give the command to initiate the final attack. However, that hand slowly dropped to his side as he stared in stunned disbelief at the sight before his eyes. A neatly dressed man, likely well into his 40s, was at the moment casually striding forward from within the confines of the final defensive line laid out by the Federation forces. Soldiers on both sides of the battlefield watched in baffled incredulity as the man calmly, collectedly strode forward. His uniform was impeccably neat and crisp, as though he had stepped into a parade instead of a blood-soaked field of battle. His face was well-shaven, and his eyes stared straight at Zhao with unnerving directness. It was a spectacle so surreal that not a single solder even had the presence of mind to shout out a challenge, much less aim and fire a bullet. Thousands of rapt eyes watched the slow progress of this insane man as he sedately made his way to the middle of the field, then with an unhurried, practiced flurry of motion unfolded a compact table as well as two portable chairs from within his belt. Such a move should have startled any wary soldier into violent action, yet the smooth train of actions served only to further deepen the spell that held sway over this entire ludicrous, almost fantastic spectacle. Apparently satisfied with the layout of the items set before him, the insane man once more returned his eyes to nod towards Zhao. ¡°Commander Zhao of the Red Tiger Army, upon this battlefield where we shall both meet our untimely demise, let us stare death in the face as we contemplate upon the Game of Life.¡± Utter silence dominated the clearing for what seemed ages. Just how to respond to such a bizarre, demented entreaty? Thus, a few minutes later, Colonel Zhao found himself seated across his mortal enemy, the man who had effectively killed him though he still drew breath. Cursed to unlife, to come so close only to lose it all, and finally wrench victory from the maws of death only to find the hollow, desolate eyes of defeat staring in silent vigil over him. For how else do you respond to madness, but further madness? As the madman had stated, they were both dead men. Might as well indulge just a little further into the insanity, at least until he could clear the hazy fog of this most ignominiously hollow victory still blanketing his mind with its bleak pall of doom and death. Then, and only then, would he pull out the .44 caliber revolver he¡¯d prepared just for this express purpose, and blow the bastard¡¯s brains out all over his little ¡°Game of Life¡± nonsense. Then he¡¯d proceed to calmly pull the trigger one final time. Two bullets, that was all he¡¯d brought, and all he needed. One for you, and one for me. Chapter 36 - The North Star鈥檚 Two Peaks Chapter 35 - The North Star¡¯s Two Peaks A freaking board game? That is your so vaunted game of life? A game of stones? As a member of the elite in one of the world¡¯s military superpowers, of course Colonel Zhao recognized the flat square board resting upon the table with its many distinctive stones resting next to it. His class had studied the game for an insufferably long time as part of the regular curriculum for all officers under training, as a well-recognized standard to develop tactical acumen and strategic vision. As such, Zhao unconsciously found himself drawn into the old familiar routine when the insane man in front of him began to lay down the flat, round stones in a complex pattern upon the board. They had used many such exercises in order to analyze different scenarios upon the field of battle. Stones would be laid out in a specific pattern that to the trained eye would instantly draw a mental map of the intended historical battle. Infantry, artillery, recognizance units and all such would slowly flesh out into the living, breathing entities which every battle eventually evolved into. The expert eye would be able to instantly analyze not only every last minute detail of the forces at play upon the field, but also draw out a mental after-image - what expert players referred to as a ¡°ghost¡± - of what had led to the present condition of the board. Moves and countermoves would be fully fleshed out within the mind as the stones told their story. Stones do not lie, after all. It is merely the players who do. However, a deep frown creased Zhao¡¯s forehead as he endeavored to take in the massive array of stones smoothly being laid out by the man. Though intricate, the formations laid upon the board were simple enough to the trained eye, comfortably within the scope of his ability to read and appreciate. However, Zhao found that he was absolutely unable to find a single trace of this particular scenario¡¯s ghost. The two sides had entered deep into the endgame of this particular battle. The stones offered a massive advantage to the white player, and by all accounts the match was all but over. However, there was an incongruency to the formation of the stones in both players¡¯ sides that simply baffled him. Here and there, Zhao could see brief glimmers of genius, of ferocious battles where mighty wills had collided and great skirmishes had been fought out. These, however, were all but drowned out by the confusing layout of the stones that followed any such encounters, to the point where his hand rose of its own volition to knead his temples. Just as Zhao was deliberating whether it was truly worth delaying his inevitable murder of this insane man just in order to obtain the answer to this confounding quandary, quiet words finally broke the silence. ¡°I had a son, once.¡± he man said in a low, almost hoarse tone, as though each word pained him greatly and was the result of a great struggle. However, as he continued the words seemed to gain momentum, gradually gaining a faint yet definite wistful air, filled with great yearning. ¡°I loved him dearly, and though as a general I¡¯d achieved some renown, I knew myself to be a great failure as a husband and a father.¡± Clak, Takk, the stones kept filling the board, in ever increasing complexity, yet the man¡¯s fingers showed not the slightest hint of hesitation. It was as though he¡¯d already gone through this same ritual countless times. ¡°His mother, a woman I never truly deserved, passed from this mortal coil while I was in a land far way, campaigning in a war for the vainglory of a fading emperor¡¯s sun. By the time I finally recovered my senses, my boy was nearly a man, and I knew then that I would never fully come to know my own son.¡± A deep breath, then the man continued. ¡°He excelled in many pursuits, and yet blood does not lie. Eventually, and against my wishes, he joined the military and swiftly rose up the ranks like a bright meteor streaking across the sky. By the time I was finally allowed to retire, my son had fully become my second incarnation, every inch the hero and general I had once vainly aspired to become.¡± The slightest of tremors shook the stone that paused in the air above the board for a single instant too long, but then the man¡¯s fingers tightened their grip and the stone found its rightful place upon the stage. ¡°Of course, fate is the eternal trickster and plays all mortals for fools. As my son began to wander ever farther from home, his victories became legion, and his foes came to dread the very mention of the North Star.¡± Zhao abruptly tore his eyes from the board to stare in mute astonishment at the man before him. This insane man was claiming to be the father of the notorious North Star? His very name had resounded across the heavens and shaken the earth, for he was known as a general of unfathomable abilities who had never tasted the bitter ashes of defeat before that one tragic final campaign. The mere mention of his name had been enough to cause cities to capitulate and nations to kneel! ¡°This game, I taught it to my boy when he were a tiny lad,¡± the man continued, oblivious to Zhao¡¯s thunderstruck stare. ¡°Daily we would play, as at first I sought to teach him the utter foolishness of war, the sheer savagery and desolation. The Game of Life, my own sire had called it, yet I mocked such a name, and instead taught him to call it the Game of Death, for truly that was its purest essence. To seek the death of your adversary, even if it meant your own demise.¡± ¡°I¡¯m an army man, as was my father before me, and his father before my time, and so on. Words came hard to me, but the Game of Death, that was a familiar and even intimate ritual. For truly, the stones never lie, and though the players may attempt to obfuscate the truth, in the end that same truth always lies in wait for the plunder. Thus, it was through this daily ritual that this father and son first truly spoke.¡± ¡°Even as the famed North Star, unless my boy were away on campaign, we would never neglect this daily ritual. Eventually the emperor grew old and feeble, and whether by man¡¯s nefarious artifices or the vagaries of fate, in a short time he lay dead. Even as an untested princeling arose as emperor, and our land torn was apart by civil war, still we played the Game of Death.¡± Zhao, as any other military man of his era, was of course aware of all the details the man before him was omitting. Indeed, the North Star¡¯s home empire had been shaken by the sudden death of the late Emperor, followed by the upheaval of a full civil war. However, immediately prior to such tragic events, rich veins of Kadmite Ore had been found in that relatively small and peaceful country. It could be said that it was this event had been the true tragedy which had ushered in an era of countless deaths and suffering. Kadmite Ore was an extremely rare deep earth material that was a key component in modern fusion reactors. Even leaving aside its civilian applications as an unmatched energy source, its military applications were even more staggering. Nations far greater than the North Star¡¯s relatively insignificant land had risen and fallen riding on the bloody tides that followed the mere mention of Kadmite. In fact, hadn¡¯t Kadmite been the main reason behind the eventual downfall of the North Star? Zhao swallowed hard as he refocused his eyes to stare unblinkingly at the man before him, who seemed to have aged by decades in these brief moments. ¡°The first and final breach in this daily ritual came soon after the new emperor¡¯s decision to avoid a fight against the secessionists. Though the capital lay in our hands, the rebel faction had, with the aid of a much greater outside power, consolidated its regime over 80% of the empire in a matter of weeks. Though most of the military constantly urged for all out war, our forces were dwarfed by the coalition of the rebels and their outside patrons.¡± ¡°Of course, my son was the most vocal of supporters for the war. Deep inside, I knew him to be right, for the new emperor¡¯s hesitation to spill blood and throw all the fates of the empire upon the crucible of war was merely sealing our eventual doom. However, I was ultimately loyal to the emperor, and my honor would not allow me go against the wishes of the empire, no matter how misguided. Besides, I had grown old and tired of war, and had little desire to see my son sacrifice his life in a hopeless crusade.¡± ¡°For only the second time in his life, my son openly opposed me, and the first heartfelt words father and son exchanged were not those of filial affection, but rather the heated, embittered strokes of two generals fighting two equally destructive campaigns.¡± Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. ¡°I find it ironic that it was war that brought us together, and war which eventually broke us apart.¡± ¡°Soon thereafter, and as you likely well know, my son eventually led a suicidal pre-emptive strike against the heart of the rebel forces. He lost his life upon that first great engagement that broke his own army in half, leaving one of every two men a broken puppet wholly devoid of life deep within the enemy¡¯s territory.¡± ¡°Wait, the North Star did taste his first bitter defeat at the Rebel capital, but the long campaign that followed immediately after was one of the most brilliant and savage epics of military history!¡± Zhao cried out in protest, then he sucked in a hissed breath as sudden realization hit him like a bolt of lightning and he stared in terrified wonderment at the man before him. ¡°Y.. you.. It was you!¡± Zhao finally managed between chattering teeth. A bitter smile, one completely absent of humor, flashed across the man¡¯s lips. ¡°Indeed, it was me. I led the North Star¡¯s army in the infamous Retreat of Gehenna.¡± Clakk! Tackk! Stones continued to fall upon the board without a pause while Zhao¡¯s pulse thundered so loudly in his ears that for a moment he could hear nothing but the frenetic hammering of his heart. Of course! This whole bloody campaign, the helpless horror as he engaged in a pursuit which bled his entire army not only of their life and blood, but of their very wills. How many men had this mad genius wielded against his own staggeringly superior numbers? Perhaps 20,000? 15,000? Against his own forces of over 100,000 men? For surely the meager casualties they had been able to inflict had been more a product of sheer luck and inevitable momentum than any hint of tactical superiority or even strategic parity! Breath came in ragged gasps as he stared in horror at this demon made flesh sitting before him, nonchalantly continuing to lay down stone after stone upon the board. Clackk! Many years ago.. Clackk! ¡°General,¡± came the firm call from over his shoulder. Tackk! ¡°General. Sir,¡± the voice repeated, in a tone heavy with deference and respect even though it seemed to radiate an irrepressible natural aura of power and authority. Clakk! ¡°F.. father,¡± called out the voice once more, though it shook slightly and seemed unsteady for the first time, as though traversing uneven ground for the first time. The hands of the man who had been methodically laying down stone after stone upon the rich marble board lying upon the table in the middle of the room finally came to a pause, freezing on the air. ¡°Father. I know I have deeply displeased you, and though it grieves my spirit I feel no shame in the act. Two great peaks have dominated the firmament as the North Star soared, sire. One ever behind me, supporting me and granting me strength and guidance. And a new peak, one which arose in the distant horizon yet looms larger by the moment.¡± The older man¡¯s brow furrowed for an instant as an inquisitive glint flashed in his eyes. It was truly uncharacteristic for his son to wax eloquent for so long, particularly during this period in which father and son had hardly exchanged a single word without engaging in bitter arguments. ¡°I truly consider it my utmost honor and joy to have not only shared an era with such titans, but to have been offered a hand in honest entreaty by both. Though it grieves me heavily, I will not be able to grasp either hand, and must instead strike out on my own. God willing, in the end we shall all meet on the same road.¡± An expectant silence filled the room, during which many words were summoned yet banished before seeing their making. Finally, as though acknowledging an already established fact, the faintest of sighs could be detected whispering against the stolid back of the father¡¯s figure. ¡°I.. how words fail me at the moment, as they always have.¡± The voice continued but the words became fainter and weaker, until it seemed they would fade into nothingness. ¡°I.. I wish, but how foolish wishes are. I will disturb you no longer with my uncouth words, sir. Instead.. Instead, I request a final boon of you. A more move in the Game of Life, in my.. In our hall. One final move.¡± A deep, shuddering breath was drawn, then slowly exhaled. ¡°Thank you, father.¡± Receding footsteps echoed loudly across the room, without a hint of the hesitation or even frailty of the moment that had just passed. Clackk! *** ¡°Stubborn old mule that I was, only too late did I finally deign to comply with my son¡¯s last request. What I discovered is the board you find before you, Colonel Zhao. These were my boy¡¯s final words to his father before rushing to his death.¡± Zhao stared in utter bewilderment at the board before him as the man before him laid one final stone, and at last came to rest. He could not make heads or tails of the insane storm of stones that seemed simple at a casual glance, yet possessed no hint of a ghost, no reason or rhyme at all. ¡°What the hell?¡± came the subdued words, unbidden, to Zhao¡¯s mouth. The man twisted his face in a faint grimace as he grunted in agreement. ¡°An overwhelming victory for the white, yet inexplicably, black in its deathbed burns with fighting spirit, as though it were the victor, not the vanquished. For too long this puzzled me to no end, as I too pondered not only on the elusiveness of this battle¡¯s ghost. Not only that, but as I delved deeper into its analysis, I came to a firmer conclusion that this had been no mere drill, no lone exercise. This had been an actual match fought out against a real opponent. And no mere rival, but rather a mind of colossal weight and even more titanic force of will.¡± ¡°It was in such straits that the news finally reached me. Far too late, I received word of my son¡¯s catastrophic campaign against the rebels. By the time I arrived, there was nothing left to me but the bloodied remains of my son¡¯s last legacy. Not even his body was ever found from that cursed battlefield.¡± Zhao nodded involuntarily. Indeed, of the 50,000 strong army that had set out under the North Star, according to the records, little over 20,000 had survived that first disastrous engagement as the rebels had apparently lain in wait for just such an opportunity to ambush the enemy with a force of over 200,000 soldiers. ¡°Oh, how I raged. I railed against the heavens, I cursed the entire earth, but the deepest contempt I reserved for myself. It was through such dark furies that I wove the deadly tapestry of the infamous Gehenna Retreat. Never in my life had I burned so hotly, so fiercely to inflict the greatest pain upon another, to resist and persist to the bitter end.¡± ¡°By the time we reached our own border, our numbers had dwindled to little over 3,000 soldiers, more ghosts of vengeance than men, baptized under a flood of blood and over a grotesque mountain composed of over 120,000 of the enemy¡¯s men.¡± ¡°Of course, though we had reached the relative safety of our own borders, we knew it was just the calm before the storm. We had mangled this army, but they had many more to draw upon. They would pounce upon us like the frenzy of a blood-crazed beast and simply bury us under another mountain of corpses, only this time we would forever become a part of it.¡± ¡°It was in such dire straits, dangling from the end thread of finality and despair, that I finally found my son¡¯s final ghost.¡± ¡°H.. how?¡± babbled Zhao, unable to contain himself. ¡°I found the other peak.¡± A ghost of a smile, more a grimace of pure pain rather than pleasure. ¡°Or rather, he found me.¡± Author''s Notes: Well, so as usual his particular arc keeps stretching. Then again, there''s the bright news. Until Stahl''s arc is over, there won''t be any sudden interruptions of service. Meaning, you get more chapters sooner. It may not quite be the chapter you were hoping for, but as I said, it is all about compromise. Thanks. Chapter 37 - A Ghost and an Iron Heart Chapter 37 - A Ghost and an Iron Heart Author''s Notes: Unedited, so feel free to point out mistakes. I''ll return to fix tomorrow. Enjoy. It was a silent, grim-faced line of black silhouettes methodically making their way through the rocky pass. A palpable aura of death hung over them like a dark omen, as though they had just come from hell and could only move further down. The only sounds were those of marching steps, interrupted every once a while by the heavier impact of a body hitting the ground after collapsing bonelessly without so much as a single cry. It was no wonder, for they had been marching without a respite since their last engagement with the enemy. They had managed to slow down their pursuers at the exact moment when they most needed it in order to gather their meager numbers and finally being reinforced by their comrades in arms, though they¡¯d paid dearly for the move. A full half of their remaining ranks had fallen in that battle. However, that had been well within his estimates. All they needed was precious time. An hour, two at the most, and they would finally be able to collapse into the arms of their brothers in arms. It was all they looked forward to, all they asked for after this journey through damnation itself. One hour stretched into two. Then three. Five. Until finally twelve hours had passed, and the exhausted, despondent soldiers had long stopped giving even a second glance when yet another of their number fell to the ground, unable to muster the strength necessary to move one more step. The more fortunate among them had simply died on their feet, the very last ounce of their lifeforce spent utterly, and the sound of their bodies hitting the dirt was merely an afterthought. The the pitiable ones were those who had fallen, yet their eyes were still open. Their arms twitched restlessly but were unable to summon the last bits of strength needed to lift their own guns, let alone depress the trigger in order to end their misery. Abandoned. We have been abandoned. Worse yet.. The grim thought echoed through his head, but Stahl stubbornly shook the thought off of his mind. He couldn¡¯t bear to finish the thought, to grasp at the repercussions of such. Either way, he and his men were dead. His son¡¯s final legacy, trampled into the dust in an ignominious hellhole in the middle of nowhere, along with the North Star¡¯s tattered flag. For two months Stahl had soaked his own soul in naphtha and willingly set it aflame to condemn his enemies to a burning inferno as they relentlessly pursued them, bleeding and being bled in turn. It had all been for nothing. ¡°Sir! Movement ahead!¡± Stahl¡¯s vacant stare suddenly flashed with vigor as his heart finally began to pump blood into his veins once more. His lips parted to give a command for the units to advance, to link with the reinforcements, to demand answers from their commanding officer for their delay.. But as the sound reached his ears, Stahl¡¯s words died in his mouth like the embers of a dying flame under a sheet of icy rain, hissing in their indignant protest. It was clapping. Slow, deliberate and firm, the sound echoed too loudly against the walls of the canyon around them. ¡°Well done, Stahl. You truly live up to your name as the Lion of Balboa, the Bulwark of the Empire, General Dominik Stahl, acting commander of the North Star¡¯s Crimson Banner?¡± The words drifted over from the area ahead, though it was still too dark to be identified. This voice, however, carried neither the hatred of an enemy nor the warmth of an ally. If anything, it radiated coldness, an aloofness and indifference that burned like dry ice. ¡°What do you want?¡± Stahl asked slowly after gathering his thoughts, his eyes flashing around to assess the situation. Not good. ¡°Ah, straight to the point. A man after my own heart. I agree, my recognizance units tell me that last ambush you staged originally bought you a good half day¡¯s headstart. Excellent maneuver, that pincer move against the Serene Defile. However, with the present condition of your troops, the enemy has made up ground and should arrive within the next four hours or so. If you don¡¯t run yourself down to the ground first, that is.¡± Stahl simply glared as his eyes were slowly able to distinguish a vague shape from the shadows ahead. ¡°Indeed, we are pressed for time. Come, Stahl. Take a seat.¡± A gentle light flickered in the darkness as a match sprang to life in front of Stahl. It was applied to a candle resting on top of a small, round table placed in the middle of the rocky pass. As the candle caught the flame and spread its gentle glow, Stahl was finally able to see his interlocutor. A shockingly young man, with burning dark eyes and unruly black hair, the image he projected was more that of a wild beast than the general that his United Federation uniform proclaimed him to be. This was a man of passion, of power, but more than anything, of danger. Stahl had ever been a sharp judge of character, and this young man casually draped over the chair in front of him was by far the most dangerous man he had ever come across. His hairs stood on end and a tingle ran up his spine as he forced himself to slow his breathing. His face gave away nothing as his eyes narrowed even further. ¡°Declare your intentions, General,¡± Stahl bit off between gritted teeth. The man simply spread his hands in front of him, waving them over the table, ¡°I am not your enemy today. Come, the Game of Life awaits.¡± Stahl¡¯s impatient reply immediately died in his chest at those last words. Only his family had ever called it the ¡°Game of Life¡±. How could this outsider know this? Unless..? His eyes narrowing to mere slits, Stahl waved his men back as he slowly made his way forward and sat himself in front of his host. Between them stood a small, circular table much like the ones he himself carried when on campaign. On top of it rested, shockingly, his own Game of Death board from his personal room, with the pieces intact. Stahl hissed between his teeth but bit back the question that nearly burst out from his chest. He would not give this bastard the satisfaction of another question which would obviously be ignored. All he could do for now was play his game, because he needed answers badly enough that he was willing to follow the mysterious man¡¯s rules - for the time being. An arched eyebrow was all the reaction this got from the man, as though Stahl¡¯s reaction had pleased him. It seemed this man was not a person given to entertaining other¡¯s questions, especially those which were deemed unworthy in his eyes. Such ego, the man was simply unbearable! Without any further words, the man picked up his first white stone and placed it upon the board. Almost without the need for any thoughts himself, his fingers reached for the all-too familiar stones. ¡°Of course, there should be stakes. There should always be stakes, else what is the point? Should you win, I will hand over this document to you and detach units as needed until you reach the safety of your own borders.¡± The stone almost fell out of Stahl¡¯s hand as he read the top words on the thick stack of papers the man set down beside the game board: ¡°Solemn Resolution and Agreement Between the Greater United Federation and the Sovereign Crissolt Empire¡±. As Stahl¡¯s incredulous gaze flew from the document to the man, he shrugged carelessly and continued, ¡°Fully signed and empowered, of course, pending your own signature as an acting ambassador and pursuant to a substantial share of your Cadmite ores.¡± The man did not have to explain further. This would mean the end of the war. Not only that, with the United Federation¡¯s protection, the threat of their ambitious, encroaching neighbors would not dare to provoke them further. ¡°Should you lose, this document will become invalid and I will personally lead all my men away from this disaster posthaste. You have until this candle burns down. Do you understand the stakes, Stahl?¡± Stahl could only nod numbly. His eyes closed for a moment as he calmed his breath and his hand stopped shaking. Stahl had been a soldier for most of his life, but his true passion had always come from the Game of Death. In fact, during his own youth he had become secretly famous in the international scene as he entered the online professional scene under an assumed identity. Though he had quickly garnered a name for himself, eventually his duties had carried him away. However, this fame had only skyrocketed as he finally retired from the army and devoted himself fully to his two main purposes in life: The education of his son and his near obsessive mastery of the Game of Death. Using his online persona, he had won numerous regional, continental and even world championships. Indeed, with a perfect fusion of prodigious talent and steely temperament, he had reached the summit in short order. Yet he had never been satisfied, always looking for new experts to challenge, though those were far and between the further he advanced. Eventually, he had come to look down upon the world from his lofty perch, where only a very select group of individuals could ever reach. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. In front of this youngster, no matter how confident he looked, Stahl could not imagine losing no matter how many games were played, no matter the stakes or the odds. Without any further reply, Stahl resolutely set down his first black stone in the very center of the board, an announcement of intent. He would face this challenge head on and crush it utterly! The man simply twisted his lips in a smile that held no humor in it, and instead only seemed to grow colder instead. This cold seemed to be possessed of some strange property which in turn let it chill the very core of his own heart. It spread a numbing sense of inexplicable unease which only continued to grow as the game quietly progressed. At first, even given the importance of the game, Stahl still had the luxury of being distracted by the ludicrous picture he presented with this man, sitting in the middle of this candle-lit canyon, surrounded by haggard, half-dead soldiers and being hounded by spirits of vengeance who would stop at nothing to rip their flesh to shreds. Of course, this only lasted until Stahl came to a stark, terrifying realization. This man was insane. Completely, utterly insane. That was the only way Stahl could describe the man he was playing against. Outwardly, he seemed like just another person, a human being of flesh and bones, but inside he must surely seethe the soul of a demon howling for the entire world to crash down in a deluge of flames. It started with the first attack the man made. Usually, two parties would begin by slowly feeling each other out, cautiously establishing faint borders, then sending out probing attacks and feints to assess the opponent¡¯s reactions. Between experts, this phase of the game, the beginning stage, would last for the first 30 minutes to an hour, at the very least. This utter lunatic, in the other hand, had launched a full on assault within the first three minutes of the game. It was completely insane! Not even the rawest of beginners would play such a move. It wasn¡¯t a simple probing attack, nor a feint, not even a measured advance. Instead, the man had simply lined up the stones he held at that point and had flung them in a brutal all-out, no-holds-barred assault on his own lines, which at that point had only just begun to take shape. Under such an unexpected onslaught, and with the present situation and the stakes involved, Stahl had still managed to immediately shake himself out of his stupor and proceeded to coldly, clinically cut the head of this impromptu assault clean off in preparation of a deadly retaliatory strike. Indeed, such an ill-advised strike had crashed against his defensive lines and broken utterly like the waves of an angry, tempestuous sea upon a granite shore. Stahl had barely been able to repress a grunt of dissatisfaction as he dispassionately crushed the assault with overwhelming force, collapsing his formations on the outmaneuvered white stones with wave after wave of his own black stones. The result had been as he had predicted. Over half of the stones the white player had on the board had been destroyed in that attack. With his sudden and unexpected advantage, Stahl had gathered his own forces and surged forth in a deadly counter-attack, fully prepared to crush his way through the remaining opposition and bring a swift end to this farce, and the costs be damned! Madman! What Stahl found instead of a disorganized retreat were the very maws of hell itself, with a complete lunatic at its back. Another full on assault from the white player, with a force that was clearly dwarfed by Stahl¡¯s own unstoppable wave of black stones! So unexpected was this further aggression, that Stahl had been reeling in disarray while losing a dozen stones before he had been able to pull his forces back in order. Although Stahl was unflippable on the battlefield, the recent events still weighed heavily upon his mind. Now, this insane bastard had inflicted such a contemptible blow against his own forces thanks to his own carelessness. There had been no finesse, no complex tactics or higher strategy involved. It was as though he had brought his finest toledo steel saber to a duel and had found his own nose bloodied and battered by a tire iron. This perceived insult to his one remaining great passion had kindled a flame that scorched his heart black. Quickly gathering his forces, Stahl had aimed them for another weakness in the enemy¡¯s formation, which were simply legion. However, to his shock he found much the same result. Another insane counter-assault from the white, which could have spelled certain doom for the madman had Stahl simply placed a handful of stones in a different configuration. Yet, Stahl had to grit his teeth while the man inflicted yet another shallow wound to his pride, taking another handful of black stones off the board. Slowly, the candle burned down as the man¡¯s indifferent smile didn¡¯t waver a hair, while Stahl began to sweat copiously and his forehead became a jumbled mess of matted hair and convulsing flesh. When they had entered the midgame, Stahl had long given up on his counter-assault as he had to recognize that his losses had become simply untenable. Under his expert eye and by his reckoning, the half dozen assaults he had launched against white and its many ¡°vulnerabilities¡± had cost him well over the initial number of stones black had sacrificed in the beginning. Of course, this could not be called a viable strategy. It was a madman¡¯s gamble, like playing russian roulette. Yes, the man had managed to stave off Stahl¡¯s attacks over and over, yet each time it had been by a mere hair, and the difference between a small loss for Stahl¡¯s forces and a disastrous rout for his opponent had been paper thin. Yet, the one sweating and grinding his teeth was Stahl, while the man had not lost that air of indifference. If anything, Stahl could almost swear the man even had the gall to look bored! At this point, all black had to do was to defend his territory and he would be able to eke out a comfortable victory. However, at this point Stahl¡¯s eyes bulged as the lunatic sitting across from him casually sent out yet another disastrous all-out attack on Stahl¡¯s battle lines. White¡¯s casualties were legion, yet this time Stahl found a deep-seated fear of the enemy, and though his trained eye could identify countless gaps in white¡¯s defense, he found his formations almost reflexively shrinking back, as though he were the prey and his bloodied, wounded foe a fearsome predator, hungry for blood. Not too long after, Stahl found his caution rewarded, as white once more led a violently reckless assault against his now much strengthened position. Then again, and once more. As the game finally entered the late game and white¡¯s assaults continued, Stahl had to consciously suppress a shiver that ran deep down his chest. Though the attacks had been repelled at horrific cost to white, this insane strategy which seemed to abandon all subtle movements in favor of berserk charges had nonetheless managed to push his own black stones into a position where they vastly outnumbered white, yet Stahl¡¯s position on the board was that of a desperate defender, barely clinging to order as his formations were so tightly clustered together they seemed to have been crushed together by the grip of an unspeakable fear. Stahl knew in his conscious mind that should he decide to push forward with his current number of stones, there was no possible defense for white. His numbers were simply too spent in that insane storm of strike after strike into the heart of the enemy. Yet, they dominated the center of the board, careless in their dominance, in their utter freedom. It almost seemed as though the match had already long been decided, with the overwhelming masses of black cringing as the defeated, and the indomitable will of white raising its fist in absolute victory at the summit. This image! Thunderstruck, Stahl froze in the act of grasping a stone, his eyes widening until they burned with the image of the unnatural game that had been played here this day. This was it. This had to be it. There was not a sliver of doubt in his heart. Unnoticed, tears slowly streamed down Stahl¡¯s ashen face. Uncaring, his lips parted to give voice to his agony. ¡°The ghost..¡± He had truly found it. At the cusp of victory and from the jaws of defeat, finally and at long last, he had found it. His son¡¯s final ghost. He found it, and it shattered Stahl¡¯s iron heart. Chapter 38 - Beneath the Great Oaks Shade Chapter 38 - Beneath the Great Oak''s Shade ¡°How?¡± came the slow, gravely voice, as though from a quiet tomb stirred by an ungentle wind. ¡°I defeated the North Star in a far away battle, years ago. He caught my eye, so I offered him a job,¡± came the casual reply, though deep undercurrents of some obscure emotion could be felt rippling under the man¡¯s indifferent surface. ¡°He asked for time to consider. Years later, he invited me into his inner garden to receive his answer. Little did I know, it would be in the form of a match in this ¡®Game of Life¡¯, as he called it.¡± Stahl¡¯s gaze followed the man¡¯s as they both stared at the board before them, the latter quietly reminiscing, while the former quickly made the connections in his agile mind, thinking out loud as he followed each logical step. ¡°My son presented you with an impossible scenario, to wrest victory away from a vastly superior foe under impossible circumstances,¡± Stahl mumbled, almost as though to himself, his gaze growing distant while his mind explored the further implications of the words he uttered. ¡°And this was your answer. Defy all logic and convention, and conduct a campaign so terrible in its brilliant, brutal slaughter, that either side would at most be able to claim a pyrrhic victory. As it stands on the board, the spirits of black have been shattered, its confidence absolutely broken. All it would take is a mere push from black, and white would be slaughtered. Yet, black cannot move a single step forward.¡± Stahl drew in a slow, hissing breath as he eyed the center of the board, where the last few remnants of white¡¯s stones stood tall, unbowed and unafraid. In fact, it seemed as though at any time they might once again lead another terrifying assault against black. Each strike had meant countless stones being lost in either side, and though each strike had been beaten back it had been repelled by a mere hair''s breadth. The stakes ran too deep for Stahl to so casually commit his forces, and though he was no coward, each strike from white had driven deep into each of black¡¯s core formations no matter how well defended they were. This had led to a situation where black had lost all initiative. Now that the flow of the game finally stood at a standstill, Stahl could once more place himself as an impartial observer and see at once the overwhelming numerical advantage his own black stones held on the board. However, every time his eyes drew close to that indomitable clump of white at the center of the board, he could barely suppress the tinge of unease as he dreaded the next assault. Stahl closed his eyes, and nodded to the man in acknowledgement. ¡°Of course, this whole bloody campaign was your strategy all along. No wonder, for I had never taught my son to be nearly so reckless,¡± Stahl continued after a long pause. ¡°Nor so brilliant.¡± ¡°You are answering the wrong questions, General.¡± Stahl¡¯s hand closed over the smooth round stone he held and trembled with barely suppressed emotion, but he managed to keep his voice relatively calm. ¡°Indeed. The main question remains. Why? Why would my son engage in this reckless, suicidal assault?¡± Stahl¡¯s intelligent eyes flashed as they lost focus for a moment, but when they returned, they blazed with fury. ¡°No, it cannot be,¡± Stahl whispered, and the flashing fire in his eyes slowly died down, his face becoming ghostly pale. ¡°The Emperor?¡± The man shrugged his shoulders and didn¡¯t utter a word. ¡°I.. I knew the current Emperor was far weaker than his sire, yet never would I have thought that he would go so far as to sell out his own inheritance. Having barely consolidated his own grasp on the throne, the young Emperor had to know he would lose most of his support if he openly surrendered to our enemies. All these years, he must have been biding his time, slowly letting our power to dwindle while the enemy gained momentum. Just how far back did my son know of this foul betrayal? Why did he not tell me? Why?¡± ¡°Would you have believed it?¡± came the dry reply. Stahl closed his eyes, and after a long moment of silence a slow, defeated sigh escaped his lips. ¡°The Emperor must have been approached by the outside powers supporting the rebels. Whatever he was offered, he betrayed us all. His country, his army, his generals. It all makes sense now. The stubborn refusal to wage war on the rebels, even before their power gathered momentum. The bitter politicking freezing the heart of the Empire. Even this, the uncanny manner in which our enemies have been able to second guess us during this retreat, when no one but the Emperor¡¯s closest aides should be aware of our movements. And this final betrayal where we find you, an unknown third party, instead of our promised reinforcements.¡± ¡°Why act as though you¡¯re surprised? Surely you knew this all along?¡± the man cut in. Stahl opened his mouth to reply, but after a while he closed it soundlessly, realizing that he had indeed known for a long time. It was merely that he hadn¡¯t been able to admit it to himself. This, he supposed, was what became of old, stubborn fools. ¡°What now?¡± came Stahl¡¯s bitter words. ¡°We finish our game, of course. I am a man of my words, after all,¡± the man smiled at Stahl like a hungry wolf looking at his prey, and the old general felt a shudder running down his spine. Stahl threw a sideway glance towards the candle slowly burning by his side. Almost all of the candle had been consumed, and only a flickering flame burned still, dancing in the breeze. Then his eyes returned to stare resentfully towards the stack of documents piled on top of the table. They had, of course, lost all meaning now. A pact with the Federation? What use was such if the Emperor himself was a rebel, fully willing to throw his own Empire to the wolves? A lifetime of honorable service, where he had sacrificed his own wife, his son, and now his very life, and yet, this was his only reward? Stahl felt the bitter ashes of a defeat more complete than any in his life. If only he had not been so stubborn. If only he had listened to his son. If only.. The crisp, unmistakable sound of a stone hitting the board jolted him out of his reverie. A white stone. But it hadn¡¯t been the man¡¯s turn to play! The penalties. The rules! What game was this man playing? Stahl looked to the board and immediately recognized where the new stone had been placed. ¡°Another assault?¡± came Stahl¡¯s incredulous voice. This time it was right in the middle of his own black forces. This was no longer simply foolhardy or reckless. It was suicide. ¡°Time presses, General. Make your play, for my men and I have already wasted enough time in this wretched war,¡± came the impatient response. ¡°You must know that, by any standard of the game, victory is impossible for you at this point,¡± Stahl pointed out in a low, uncharacteristically shallow voice. ¡°Hmm?¡± came the disinterested reply. ¡°I admit you have threaded the needle very finely indeed. Even I would not be able to dance about on such the razor sharp edge between life and death as you have done. Still, each assault, though psychologically strong, leaves you at a greater numerical disadvantage. Though such mental blows might be able to tilt the scales at a crucial moment, you have broken your own spell and I have now had time to..¡± Stahl continued to explain, but found his words cut off by the man¡¯s clear, crisp words. ¡°Stahl, I always, always play to win.¡± Stahl paused, taken aback. His eyes came up to meet the smoldering gaze of this strange man and froze as he read into its depths. Indeed, he was playing to win, the madman. No, in the man¡¯s eyes eyes, Stahl found nothing but the utmost assurance of victory. Not even the smallest sliver of doubt remained. Inwardly, Stahl was startled. Had he missed something? A careful trap? A devious strategy? His eyes roamed the entire board as he glanced to his side, towards the dying light of the candle. Stahl looked down to the final stone once more, the one deeply thrust into the core of his own formation, and with a start he realized it lay right at his own King piece''s back. Then he began to recall the man''s words: ¡±Should you lose, this document will become invalid and I will personally lead all my men away from this disaster posthaste.¡± ¡±My men and I have already wasted enough time in this wretched war.¡± ¡°Stahl, I always, always play to win.¡± Then, just like that, Stahl knew. He realized what was truly at stake, and he was surprised to find a bitter smile stretching his lips. The first in what felt like an entire lifetime of ashes and defeat.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. An exasperated sigh came from the man sitting across from Stahl, as though he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Stahl sighed as well, shaking his head slowly from side to side. Of course, to the man it must have felt like an insufferable long time while Stahl finally understood. From the very beginning, there had been no point to this game, for there could only have been one result. No, Stahl reminded himself. It wasn¡¯t pointless. Rather, this had been the most important game of his entire life. He knew now that this relatively simple game that had spanned a mere hour or less would come define his entire life hereafter. Stahl finally understood. This game was not about victory or defeat, about winning or losing. It was about what lay within its heart, the deeper meanings hidden within and their undercurrents. What truly lay at stake. Life. The Game of Life. Aptly named, Stahl supposed. ¡°I surrender,¡± came Stahl¡¯s calm voice. ¡°Finally!¡± An impatient hand slapped down against the table, scattering the many stones laid on the board. Then the man threw Stahl one last meaningful glance before standing abruptly and turning around. Staring at the man¡¯s receding back, Stahl could only shake his head helplessly. ¡°¡°What Great Oak,¡± the man mysteriously muttered, before tilting his head back towards Stahl impatiently. ¡°Coming?¡± ¡°Yes, General,¡± Stahl called out, then turn around to motion to his troops. ¡°Move out. We have new orders.¡± ¡°Ah, General? Is he.. From the Emperor¡¯s men?¡± came one of the voices from behind him. Stahl slowly shook his head. ¡°No, we follow a new General now. Move out.¡± Thus, General Michael Lee led his men - both old and new - out of that hellhole. *** Stahl kept his eyes on the bewildered Zhao while placing one final stone on the board. He hadn¡¯t managed quite so well as the General, after all. Perhaps, it was simply not his style. As much as he had danced on the knife edge between life and death countless times while following the General¡¯s orders, he still felt that he hadn¡¯t been able to condense that same deadly finality into each of his attacks like the General had done that day upon that clearing, many, many years ago. One day, he vowed. One day he would. Of course, after that one Game of Life, the General had adamantly refused to play a single more game. ¡±A pointless waste of time, Stahl. If you¡¯ve got the time and energies, old man, we¡¯ve got plenty of live enemies to kill.¡± ¡°Ah, no time. The, eh, the Council has issued a new order.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sleeping. F*ck off, old man.¡± Ultimately, Stahl had been reduced to resorting to extortion, of sorts. To prove that the Game of Life was as much a matter of life and death as any real field of battle to him, he would exchange missions for stones. The more closely threaded together life and death became, the more stones would be demanded. Each single stone, in turn, could be exchanged for a match in the Game of Life. Of course, Stahl no longer spent these as thriftily as he once had. For every stone, Stahl would milk the game for the very last of its essence, stretching their matches for hours and hours on end. It drove the poor General insane, of course. Understandably, he had become remarkably stingy with the stones down the years. But here now lay a wondrous bounty! Three stones was definitely a record. He would be able to torment the General with many, many hours in the Great Game. Zhao looked down at the last stone Stahl had placed, and shook his head slowly from side to side. ¡°Good story, commander Stahl. However, how will you win this game now that you have told me its secret? All I have to do now is to ignore your attacks and surround your stones, crushing all resistance with my numbers.¡± Zhao looked up to Stahl with a venomous grin. ¡°Just like I will do in mere moments to the last pitiful dregs of your army. What do you think of that, oh so vaunted commander Dominik Stahl.¡± Stahl merely smiled placidly, almost complacently, and nodded to Zhao. ¡°Glad you enjoyed the story. However, Colonel Zhao, it seems you have not learned the true lesson of the story, after all.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± ¡°You are asking the wrong questions.¡± Zhao narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head to one side, scratching his beard with one hand while surreptitiously reaching under the table towards his leg, where his hidden gun was strapped. ¡°What do you mean? I grow tired of your senseless game, old man. If you hadn¡¯t been entertain..¡± Zhao¡¯s voice faltered as he abruptly raised his head and stared at Stahl and slowly muttered,¡°Why?¡± Stahl nodded wordlessly. ¡°Why would you tell me..¡± The next words died in his throat as a stream of bright, blue-hued sparks lit the shadow behind Zhao¡¯s figure, and the cold edge of a blade materialized itself next to his neck. Impossible! Even with a cloaking device, how had anyone penetrated his personal EM shield without him realizing it? Zhao didn¡¯t even dare to twist his head to see his captor, when a soft, velvety voice purred softly behind his ear. ¡°Old man, that is not fair. I thought I would finally hear the end of the story. I¡¯ve been waiting for so long.¡± Stahl smirked enigmatically, while calmly gathering the stones back into their respective containers, ¡°Then you shall have to wait a while longer.¡± Realizing there was treachery afoot, Zhao growled as he slammed a fist against the table while his other stealthily reached just a little lower, towards his gun, ¡°You cannot possibly think you can get away with this. My men will slaughter you!¡± The edge of the blade nipped lightly at his skin, and a small trickle of blood slowly slid down his throat as Zhao froze, hardly daring to even breathe. ¡°Quiet, pig,¡± came the same rich female voice, though any playfulness was gone and instead there was only a wintry chill pervading his heart, sending shudders down Zhao¡¯s spine. ¡°Old man, maybe I should just let you die here after all.¡± Stahl shrugged indifferently. ¡°Maybe you should.¡± ¡°Ah, y.. Yes! I will pay anything, just kill this..¡± Zhao mumbled desperately, while slowly reaching down with his hand. Just a little more.. There! He could feel his fingers brushing against the cool, burnished steel of his gun. Unfortunately, that was the last his fingers would ever feel. ¡°I said, be quiet pig,¡± were the icy words as the blade pressed harder against his throat, while at the same time a sharp pain clawed at his hand. Zhao pulled his hand back from under the table to stare at the missing stumps where two of his fingers had been cleanly sliced off. ¡°Aggh!¡± his agonized scream was cut off short by a simple twitch of the blade held against his neck, forestalling any further sounds as Zhao gripped his maimed hand in agony. The voice¡¯s owner ignored him completely as it drawled on, ¡°Old man, do not think I¡¯m bluffing.¡± ¡°I know you don¡¯t,¡± Stahl serenely replied, stowing away the last of his stones. A long pause ensued with only the muffled grunts of pain from Zhao and the soft clattering of the board being folded and stored. ¡°Grr, I hate smelly old men,¡± the voice finally muttered, then there was a flash of light as the shadowlyfigure slowly dissolved into brilliant motes of light. ¡°This is not fun!¡± With a final growl, the blade biting against Zhao¡¯s neck was gone. Before Zhao even had time to rejoice at his freedom, a violent kick against his back sent him sprawling on top of the table and with a solid THUNK another blade thrust into his back, nailing his shoulder deep against the cold surface under his face. ¡°Aaghh!¡± Zhao howled in pain, unable to move his body at all, let alone try to wrench the sword biting deeply into his shoulder. ¡°This is not over, old man!¡± came the last, ominous yet almost peevish words as the last of the glowing silhouette flickered, then was completely gone. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have it any other way,¡± Stahl replied, while nonchalantly reaching down to draw Zhao¡¯s own gun, then resting the cool barrel against its owner¡¯s forehead. ¡°Now, let us discuss terms, Colonel Zhao.¡± *** As Stahl escorted his bewildered hostage back towards the fortified positions of the Federation army, he couldn¡¯t help but smile bitterly at the memories that relentlessly flooded back. For this story did indeed have an end, though it was not the end. The father had, against all odds, survived the death march that had seen his son dead. By the time he¡¯d returned to the capital, news had already reached him of a daring assassination plot. The emperor lay dead. At about the same time when a certain match had been played at a mundane clearing not too long ago. Without the Emperor¡¯s opposition, the once-retired General had been able to rally support for the emergency parliament to accept the terms the United Federation had extended. Thus, the Empire had been smoothly integrated into the gigantic machine that was the Federation. The rebels were wiped out to the last man within weeks of the final signing of the pact. However, the father was not there to witness the battle, nor the signing. The last time he was seen was months previous, slowly walking by himself into a small, secluded garden within the massive complex belonging to his family. His son¡¯s private garden. Stahl recalled the exact moment this garden had become his son¡¯s possession. He had been walking with his son, as always lecturing the youth on the precepts duty and honor, a large retinue of advisors, bodyguards and servants trailing behind. As they reached this particular stretch of the grounds Stahl had frowned at an unsightly old tree casting its shade on the more exotic and well-pruned plants nearby. ¡°I want it cut down by tomorrow. Only by burning away the old can the new grow and prosper,¡± Stahl had commanded out loud, all the while looking directly at his son. The youth had looked straight back at him, his eyes unreadable. Later that night, his son has uncharacteristically requested a boon before their daily match in the Game of Life. ¡°Father, I would like to have my own garden from the main grounds, to cherish and protect as a man should,¡± the precocious child had stated. Stahl had considered for a brief moment before nodding. Now, over twelve years later, Stahl could not hold back the broken sigh from escaping as his misting eyes read the words carved below the massive tree that grew in the middle of his son¡¯s private garden. It was the same great oak tree that Stahl had ordered cut down. Beneath it lay a plaque that read: ¡°Ask not the mighty Great Oak, Why its branches in the sky are laid, For I would be the gentle willow, Resting ¡®neath the Great Oak¡¯s shade.¡± Chapter 39 - Showdown Chapter 39 - Showdown ¡°You will not get away with this! You and all your federation dogs are dead. Dead! Release me at once and I may grant you a quick death,¡± Zhao growled as Stahl led him into the safe confines of the Federation¡¯s defensive lines. ¡°Otherwise -¡± ¡°I am sorely tempted to blow out your brains post haste, Colonel,¡± Stahl muttered absently as he nudged his prisoner on the back of his head with the gun¡¯s muzzle. ¡°However, I am afraid you would then miss the show. We wouldn¡¯t want you to miss the closing ceremony of this grand spectacle, now would we?¡± Zhao snarled viciously as Stahl lightly tapped the side of the hostage¡¯s head to turn him around. Just beyond the outer perimeter of the Federation encampment stood numberless ranks of soldiers, Zhao¡¯s men. Stahl imagined that they would be nervously shifting the grips on their weapons, wondering whether they should write Zhao off as a complete loss and begin the massacre of the Federation troops now, or delay the inevitable in the off-chance that their commander would be returned to them in a hostage exchange. In truth, the whole event must have seemed ludicrous in the eyes of Zhao¡¯s men. Stahl had, after all, been scanned and no weapons had been detected on his person. Neither was he carrying any protective EM field devices, while their commander had been armed with both. Short of a direct artillery shell, he should have been safe. How had that special ops detail slipped past their scanners and Colonel Zhao¡¯s own EM fields in such a short time? Normally, any objects would have to synchronize their frequency to the EM field¡¯s randomly generated one in order to slowly invade it. That individual had done so in an instant, so quickly that even the snipers posted by Colonel Zhao to cover him had no opportunity to fire before Zhao¡¯s throat lay under her blade. Nothing less from the legendary Dragon Lady, I suppose. ¡°Fine, do your worst. Just remember that over 100,000 of my men have you at their mercy!¡± Zhao hollered. ¡°Do you think just because you have captured me you will be able to escape?¡± ¡°Ah, about that. You were merely a convenient way to buy time and safely retreat from underneath your men¡¯s cross sights afterward. As of this moment, you¡¯ve pretty much become irrelevant. Captain Worthy. Initiate operation ¡®Rolling Thunder,¡¯¡± Stahl called out indifferently. ¡°What are you-¡± Zhao protested, but the rest of his question was cut off by the intense blast of explosions shaking the ground beneath their feet. The neatly arranged lines of Zhao¡¯s men had been blown away by a ferocious salvo of close range artillery, their ranks crumpling under blooming bursts of anti-infantry ordnance. Chaos erupted as ragged orders to fire back issued from their lines. However, they were drowned out by the wailing of the dead and dying, as well as the continued bursts of small guns fire. A lot of small guns fire. Zhao stared in stupefaction. The front ranks of his army had been mauled, but it was simply the first few ranks. This close to their enemy¡¯s formation, the Federation had no way of bringing to bear their largest artillery pieces. ¡°You suicidal maniac, you have doomed us all!¡± Zhao cried out, his face draining of blood. He was right, of course. While they had inflicted some damage to the immediate front ranks of the enemy, the rest of the enemy would soon storm forward, tear down their fortifications, and drown Stahl¡¯s men in blood by the sheer weight of numbers alone. However, soon an incredulous look surfaced on Zhao¡¯s face. There was hardly any fire headed their way. The air shook with the continuous rumble of small arms fire rattling away and the screams of men faced with their own mortality. However, barely any flashes could be seen directed this way. If anything, it seemed as though more and more of the men were turning their backs on Stahl¡¯s men, gesturing wildly and rushing off into the woods. ¡°It can¡¯t be. Re.. reinforcements?¡± Zhao murmured miserably. About damn time, General. Stahl looked down to his watch and noted the time. Late as usual. Should be able to add an additional stone as a surcharge for tardiness. How does he always manage to be late? ¡°Captain Worthy?¡± Stahl called out. ¡°Sir. Beg your pardon, sir!¡± The good Captain Worthy shook himself out of his stupor and began to order coordinated artillery fire upon the coordinates preset by Stahl. Soon, bright blossoming pillars of fire could be seen roaring in the distance. As Colonel Zhao crumpled to his knees, staring in horror at the crumbling ranks of his army, Stahl began to flip a round stone in his hand over and over again. Your move, General. *** ¡°Good old Stahl,¡± I sighed to myself. Damn, but I¡¯d missed the old turtle. ¡°Sir?¡± ¡°Nothing, carry on Captain.¡± ¡°Sir, reporting massive casualties inflicted upon the enemy¡¯s rear. Our men are sustaining concentrated fire all along their escape routes. Estimated that less than 20% will escape the field, mostly heavily wounded.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± I drawled in satisfaction. ¡°All troops to continue engaging on-¡± A massive explosion shook the ground below my feet, and my heart skipped a beat as I turned on the soldier with a heavy frown crumpling my brow. That had been too close. ¡°Sir?¡± A bad feeling had started to crawl up my spine, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. ¡°Captain, I want deep-range scanners running a broad spectrum analysis of the field,¡± I commanded. ¡°And boost power to the defensive EM field generators.¡± ¡°Ah, sir, all our elements are currently..¡± ¡°Do it now!¡± I grated out, my brow furrowing with tension. ¡°Yes sir!¡± Seconds after the orders had been issued, an alarm began shrieking from one of the consoles. ¡°Proximity alert, enemy fire incoming!¡± a panicked voice cried out. It was all the warning before a series of massive explosions shattered against the thick, transparent film of our EM fields, sending visible ondulations trembling throughout its entire length. They had held, barely. If the power hadn¡¯t been boosted, however.. ¡°Sir, reporting multiple hits along the entire western flank of our command center¡¯s EM fields,¡± someone cried out. I resisted the urge to smack the idiot on the side of his head. No, really? We hadn¡¯t noticed. ¡°Boost power to shields, run those scans, I want to find out who is firing at us and with what,¡± I growled. This was not going according to the plan. After cleaning up this front we would regroup and hit the Ice Emperor¡¯s vulnerable left flank while a token force held the ridge against his main advance using our artillery. However, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I moved over to our scanners, where several men frantically operated the controls. ¡°Scan vector 221.225 to 236.246,¡± I ordered as my eyes became slits. It couldn¡¯t be. Impossible. ¡°Sir! Multiple enemy formations advancing all along the west front, 10 kliks out. Several fortified artillery emplacements are shelling our location from behind their ranks,¡± came the breathless report. Damn you Xiao Ming. I don¡¯t know how you did it, but damn you to hell! ¡°Order all men to stop pursuit immediately and form up behind our position,¡± I growled in frustration. ¡°But sir, we have their entire line at our mercy. 30 more minutes and-¡± ¡°30 more minutes and their reinforcements will execute a pincer maneuver along that entire ridgeline, while their artillery pounds away at our men into straight perdition,¡± I immediately cut him off. Xiao Ming, you bastard! How did you know?This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. *** How did you know? Xiao Ming, the Ice Emperor, stood rigidly behind the electronic map that had blipped back into life barely an hour before. His eyes stared holes into the many scarlet blips on the display representing his own forces. They are bleeding. Dying. Never in his career had he suffered such disastrous losses. Ever. How did you know? Xiao Ming wished nothing more than to reach through that tactical map laid out before him, clutch the neck of that insufferable man, and choke the answers from him. His master plan had crumbled within seconds of the radiation storm, which should have been completely unpredictable. As though the enemy had known of his traps, all the careful strategies that Xiao Ming had laid out years in advance, just for this one moment of glorious victory. It now tasted of ashes. The bitter ashes of defeat. Xiao Ming had known something was wrong from the very beginning, and for once acting against his cooler, more logical minded self, had laid out several further layers of contingencies like a paranoid weakling. Wasteful, was what it was. He hated wastefulness. But now here he stood, amidst the smoking, crumbling remains of half his armies. All the while, the feeling of impending doom never lifted from his shoulders. Xiao Ming unconsciously brushed his fingers across his throat, lightly caressing a faint reddish mark that lay there. It was a recently inflicted wound, an uneasy encounter that had been too close to finality for his own comfort. A reminder of his own mortality, perhaps? Impossible. He was the apex of human superiority. How did you know? *** I didn¡¯t need to see the brittle scales of iridescent light gently flickering and falling to the ground before I sighed deeply. ¡°So, you failed,¡± I muttered, almost as though to myself. ¡°Shut up!¡± came the irritable reply from the figure that had just revealed herself. As the final layers of light shimmered brightly, then completely fell off, the lithe figure of a woman, little more than a girl, could be seen leaning against the far wall, gnawing at the knife she held in her hands while glowering darkly at me. Her small, almost delicate hands were snowy white, her nails flawlessly manicured and painted in different colors and designs. Short, unruly waves of dark hair framed a petite face with breath-takingly beautiful features. Her nose was sharp though not overtly so, perfectly placed over full lips that glimmered with a dark azure hue, and deep purple eyes that glimmered with dangerous flames. ¡°I would have gotten him if you had given me a few more minutes!¡± she snapped while picking at the tip of the dagger with her teeth. ¡°Impossible. Stahl worked a damn miracle holding out as long as he did. I could delay no longer,¡± I calmly replied, ignoring her further outburst as she stomped her feet. ¡°How was he?¡± I added in an overly casual way, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. ¡°Different, but in a good way. Bad to cross. Dangerous. Like you,¡± she added with a thoughtful look, gesturing in the air with her knife in her hands. ¡°Not quite as fun, of course, but not too far either.¡± I raised an eyebrow. That was the most praise I¡¯d heard out of her in a long time. Perhaps it was a pity I¡¯d never crossed paths with the Ice Emperor again in my real life. Perhaps it was fortunate. Detecting ferocious waves of killing intent, I rolled my eyes and glanced back towards her, only to see her slowly grinding her teeth against her knives as she stared at me in an uncanny impersonation of a hungry tigress about to pounce upon her prey. ¡°Kat, forget about it. I¡¯m not interested in sloppy seconds,¡± I waved her off lightly. Immediately after, I weaved my head to the right to dodge the flashing edge that sliced the air not half an inch from my face while reflexively drawing my own combat knife with my left hand and blocking the inevitable follow up from the opposite side. I instantly followed with a swift frontal push kick that connected with a dull thud, launching her across the room. ¡°You¡¯re getting sloppy, my dear,¡± I taunted lightly while baring my own teeth. ¡°That will get you killed, in our line of work.¡± ¡°Hmmph!¡± was the only reply I received, as she flipped in the air once before landing on her feet with effortless ease and dusting her chest off. Huh, I¡¯d barely even brushed against her clothes before she pushed herself off the ground in order to avoid my kick. Sticking her tongue out at me, she unceremoniously leaned against the far wall once more, slouching her shoulders while nibbling at her knives. I secretly smirked to myself in quiet appreciation. The very picture of a deadly tigress sharpening her claws. ¡°I will kill you one day, you big bully,¡± Kat pouted in between mouthfuls of sharp, deadly steel. Well, maybe more like a vicious little kitten. I shrugged my shoulders indifferently. ¡°Not if you keep failing like this, you¡¯re not.¡± ¡°You meanie,¡± she cried out, hints of moisture pooling in her eyes. ¡°I almost got him! I nicked him but the bastard¡¯s got triple EM fields and is jumpy as hell! I just needed a few more minutes to crack through his EM frequency algorithms before pouncing on the mark!¡± ¡°Yeah, cry me a river, kitten,¡± I snorted, turning around towards the rest of the men in the room, who were pointedly pretending not to see or hear any of the ongoing exchange. Yeah, they knew better. ¡°I hate you, you big, dumb meanie!¡± Kat cried out, before vanishing in a spectacular shower of drifting lights. ¡°I will kill you! Remember it!¡± came her venomous last words. ¡°Yes, my dear. Yes you will,¡± I murmured, grinning from ear to ear. ¡°Ah, that¡¯s family for you,¡± I said happily to myself, turning around to get back to business. As for now, I had a war to win. Bastard Xiao Ming. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, just you wait. ¡°Mommy!¡± I was startled out of my malicious plotting by my daughter¡¯s whisper. ¡°Was that.. My elder sister? Uwaa.. she looked scary..¡± came Shia¡¯s hesitant voice. ¡°Eh, you heard that?¡± Of course she had. God, I hate dumb questions. She had just caught me completely off-balance. ¡°Is she?¡± ¡°What, your sister?¡± Gah, another stupid, pointless question. I was on a roll. ¡°Hmm-mm.¡± ¡°Yeah, I suppose you could say so,¡± I chuckled ruefully, shaking my head. ¡°Umm, mommy, why would elder sister say she would kill you?¡± ¡°Because she means it, of course,¡± I replied off-handedly. ¡°¡­¡± ¡°Shia?¡± ¡°Umm.. mommy¡¯s family is scary..¡± ¡°Ah, you¡¯ll get over it. She¡¯s quite the nice girl, once you get to know her,¡± I lamely elaborated. ¡°...¡± ¡°Anyhow, I¡¯m assuming you finished?¡± ¡°Yup. A while ago, actually. Shia¡¯s just been a little scared to open her eyes here.¡± Can¡¯t say that I blamed her. Actually, that¡¯s extra points to her, in my book. No child should have to get used to this kind of godawful tragedy. ¡°Mommy, are you ready?¡± ¡°Born ready, baby,¡± I grinned my best big bad wolf grin, looking down at my fists as I slowly flexed them, feeling the irresistible waves of power radiating from every cell of my being. Hunt me, would you? I had hunted, I had slaughtered. I had feasted, and now I would conquer. And woe to any who would oppose me. I¡¯m the Godslayer, you silly twits! Come meet your doom! ¡°Time for the showdown. Do it Shia!¡± A blinding nova of incandescent light burst from my chest, rapidly spreading to electrify the air in a perfect sphere around me as I began to float off the ground. The sights and sounds I had grown accustomed to began to blur, then crack as fissures ran down their surface as though they were a mere mirror being flexed beyond enduring. Popping sounds echoed in the air the cracks rapidly spread from me, and blinding light began to filter through the gaps. Of course, this wouldn¡¯t be any fun without my gracious hosts making an appearance. Right on cue.. ¡°Puny mortal, thou dost dare defy Our will? Hearken, for We shall flay a grisly lesson in thine own pulsing, quivering flesh. Only then shall We tear thy soul asunder and feast upon thy unliving, everlasting horror!¡± The massive roar shook the very walls of this reality, sending visible ripples cascading down the shattering mirror image. I had to admit, it was vaguely impressive. ¡°Blah blah blah,¡± I mimicked, smirking while moving my fingers up and down. ¡°Are you done yet?¡± ¡°Behold thy doom and despair, mortal!¡± boomed the voice once more. ¡°Oh no! Mommy, Shia is losing you.. You¡¯re going back in.. They held back one final trial.. NO! Mommy! Come back! You have to come back!¡± I frowned in confusion at the frenetic panic in Shia¡¯s voice. What was going on? It was just another trial. ¡°Mommy! Shia will wait for you. Shia needs you! You have to come back to me!¡± ¡°Shia, calm down. What..¡± The final pieces of the mad jigsaw puzzle shattering around me imploded in a shocking shower of pain and blood. Thousands of shards lanced my flesh with fire, and each blossomed into an excruciating surge of agony that injected liquid fire into my veins. ARGH.. What is going on? One moment, pain, endless pain clawed at me, and then nothing. Abruptly, it was all gone, and darkness engulfed me once more. *** When I finally opened my eyes, I lay crumpled and bleeding, and my sight was reduced to a dizzying kaleidoscope of blood-tinged shapes floating in my vision. ¡°Wha..¡± I murmured, working my mouth in a vain attempt to bring some sense to this madness. Instead, all I managed was to spit out a mouthful of blood. Though every nerve in my body screamed in protest against it, I gathered myself up and rolled over, slowly pulling in my legs under me to reach a kneeling position. ¡°Ha. Ha. Ha,¡± I chuckled with crimson froth bubbling from from in between my twisted grimace of a grin. ¡°This, is this the best you.. You bastards can do?¡± I spit out a mouthful of blood to the side and took a handful of breaths while leaning my forehead against the floor, slowly regaining feeling in my extremities. I could feel the steady, inexorable tendrils of power gradually spreading out from my chest. Yes, they could not hold me back anymore. I was done with this place, and I would rip their damn heads off and piss in their hollowed out skulls before smashing them against the floor on my way out. Power. Vengeance. It was mine! ¡°Mi.. Michael?¡± Thunder rumbled in my brain and shocked it into complete paralysis. My heart was smoking and my mouth was smothered in ashes before I could even make the first conscious connection to that unforgettable, unmistakable voice. No.. No, it cannot be.. ¡°Michael,¡± the voice called out once more, and I closed my eyes and wished I could rip them out because I knew the moment I opened them once more I would be lost. Completely, irrevocably lost beyond all redemption. No.. Don¡¯t do this to me.. No.. Please.. ¡°Michael,¡± she called out once more, her tender voice heart-breakingly glorious in its clarity, its purity. Thrice she called my name, no more. Three times she called for me, and thusly she sealed my doom. Sophia.. And I was lost. Chapter 40 - Power Chapter 40 - Power There is a beat, should you listen to it. It thrums, it sings of its power. It cascades down the heavens and drowns out all of creation in a wondrous symphony of endless glory and chaos. Should you have the soul, the heart to listen for it, that is. There was a different beat here, and it pervaded every pore, every nook and cranny of this dark, twisted space. It writhed in the shadows and demanded release, like a newborn clawing its way out from oblivion, and into the raw miracle of life. Thusly gods are born. ¡°YOU WILL DIE!¡± It was not a promise, nor was it a threat. It was a statement of fact, a clear and concise proof of existence prior to its execution, even to its very inception. It was my will. ¡°YOU. WILL. DIE!¡± My throat felt scraped and old, as though a rusty saw had been run through it countless times, each time carving new trails of pain and suffering, opening old wounds anew and birthing new scars. I clenched my fists and twin supernovas of light flashed into being within them. They rippled with coarse, untamed power. Each globe of liquid starlight roared into furious incandescence, and I granted each a name and a purpose. Vengeance, to slaughter all my foes. Despair, to condemn their souls to perdition. Come, Vengeance and Despair. Come, for I am the Godslayer, the Ultimate Cause, the End of Times. Come! Reality wove a fabric so gossamer, so fragile, it would have taken a mere breath to tear it asunder. To gather it all into my merciless fists, and crush them into nonexistence. I am Power Incarnate. I am the Last God. Come, for I shall unmake this abominable mockery of life, this pathetic continuance of floundering vitality. You who have offended a living, breathing God, you shall pay a steep price in thorns and sorrow, in trial and tribulation, in desperation and utter desolation. ¡°COME!¡± I stretched my left hand forth, and instantly lightning danced upon my arms, gathering momentum and surging into the scorching fire within it that beckoned with a greedy maw, promising to roil the seas and ignite the heavens. Guided by perverse instinct, I clenched my left hand into a fist as though to smother the cosmic fires contained therein. A soundless explosion burst into instant life, a shocking wave of energy pulsing in a wide, perfect circle and expanding at a rate faster than the eye could follow. With its passage, the blast snuffed all life and energy from the world, and in its smoking trail left silent flames licking at shattered remnants of what had once been part of a whole. Not content, I raised my right hand and thunder answered with a titanic roar. I flung it downward and lightning pealed in a thousand voices, discordant notes that revolved into terrifying harmony in an unstoppable maelstrom of raw power that poured forth like the waters bursting from a broken dam, like the churning waves of an inexorable tsunami extinguishing all order and normality, leaving nothing but broken remnants and forgotten relics in its terrible wake. In the distance I saw them, puny insects taking flight in desperate, uncompromising retreat. With a single flicker of my fingers I summoned them forth, and bid them stand judgment before the towering majesty of my will. Their trembling hands twisted pitifully in the most earnest entreaty for favor, for respite, for at least a merciful end. I gave them flame and ashes, fire and thunder. I tore their skins off with my fangs, I ripped their entrails out with my claws, then I spit living fire into their veins, and watched it burn slowly, oh so slowly. They screamed and writhed in utter agony beneath my feet, and in their desperation they sought reprieve from their torment. A swift death, they cried. They begged. In silence, I watched them burn. For the world is of ashes, and to ashes it shall return. I am the Deathbringer, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Right Hand of Doom. I am the Godslayer, and I am come! *** ¡°Come back!¡± I am the Devourer. ¡°You have to come back!¡± I am the Breaker of Worlds. ¡°Please..¡± I am the.. ¡°MOMMY!¡± A jolt of lightning hit my chest from within like a defibrillator dialed on too damn high, and the terrible thunder slowly leaked out of my eyes as I shook my head from side to side. ¡°Mommy! Please come back!¡± ¡°S.. Shia?¡± I mumbled disjointedly, as though awakening from the depths of an unspeakable nightmare. ¡°Mommy! It¡¯s me! Shia¡¯s here!¡± ¡°Shia.. What.. Where..?¡± I swayed on my feet, unable to bring my eyes into focus, painful light stabbing deeply into my eyes. ¡°Mommy, you¡¯re back! You¡¯re finally back!¡± ¡°Wha.. What do you mean? I¡¯m.. from where?¡± I repeated stupidly, still woozily trying to shake the rocking seabed out of my head. ¡°You.. Shia was so scared. Uwaaah, Mommy! Shia was scared!¡± ¡°Shh. Calm down Shia. I¡¯m here. Mommy¡¯s here now,¡± I said reassuringly. God, I hated crying. I couldn¡¯t stand it. I would say or do literally anything to make it stop. Struck dumb by my daughter¡¯s sudden outburst, I turned my head from side to side, rubbing at my eyes and squinting, trying to bring the world back into focus. The first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelled of burnt flesh, like someone had left their porkchops over the grill and gone to bed, and woken up the next morning surrounded by the smoldering heap of ashes their home had become. The odd thing was, there was no heat. Neither was there light. There seemed to be some sort of pulsing, thrumming illumination from somewhere beyond my field of vision, but I couldn¡¯t quite make out solid shapes or objects yet. I brought my hands up my face to try and squeeze some semblance of functionality to my eyes, and unbelievably, it seemed to do the trick. My eyes slowly regained focus, and the very first thing I could clearly see was the all the blood. It was all over my hands, caked and flaking, crusted and crumbling, yet it was all over my hands. It ran up my elbows, and my arms. I looked down at my body in bewilderment, and found that over the old familiar grey of the uniform of the Federation special forces, it was all a sickening shade of rusty red. ¡°What the hell?¡± I whispered to myself, completely stupefied. ¡°Mommy.. You.. You don¡¯t remember anything?¡± came Shia¡¯s hesitant question. ¡°Nothing,¡± I shook my head slowly. ¡°I mean, bits and pieces of.. Fire. Death. Obliteration. I am the.. I cried out and flung my hands over my temples, squeezing my eyes shut as visions flashed in my mind, far too quickly to be recognizable. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Where are we?¡± I murmured, opening my eyes and scanning my surroundings. A desolate vista greeted my eyes. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but a fine layer of grey ashes covering the ground. I could not see a single shape breaking the bleak monotony of the landscape. The horizon lay completely flat, and though there were no moon or stars overhead, somewhere beyond my vision the sky above seemed to be vaguely pulsing with a shimmering wave of light that flickered periodically. ¡°What kind of vision are we in now?¡± ¡°Mommy, this.. This is no vision,¡± came Shia¡¯s soft, eerily grave voice. ¡°What do you mean? Where are we then? Where is the Labyrinth of Souls?¡± I queried, turning around to scan the area around us. Nothing. Nothing but ashes. ¡°This IS the Labyrinth of Souls,¡± came Shia¡¯s voice, and there was a disquieting tremor that ran deep within her voice. ¡°What? Is this the original shape of the Labyrinth, before the soul constructs are fashioned?¡± I asked once more, incredulous. ¡°No, Mommy,¡± Shia answered in a calm, collected manner, like a doctor trying to give a terminal diagnosis to an overwrought patient. Still, her next words completely floored me. ¡°You are looking at the Labyrinth of Souls, or what is left of it.¡± I stared in mute astonishment at the desolate vista around me. There was not so much as a breeze. Only a fine layer of ashes covered the ground as far as the eye could behold. ¡°I don¡¯t understand, Shia. You¡¯re not making any sense. Where are all the constructs? ¡°You burned them, Mommy,¡± came the calm reply. ¡°The metaphysical maze?¡± ¡°That too.¡± ¡°The whole damn dungeon?¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± ¡°Well then, how about the so-called Worthy, those uppity bitches running this hellhole?¡± Shia¡¯s voice grew somber, ¡°All ashes, Mommy.¡± ¡°That.. How did I do that? Why don¡¯t I remember any of it?¡± I cried out, when the frenzied torrent of visions once again assaulted my brain, and it was all I could do to open my mouth in a silent scream, unable to draw enough breath to give vent to my pain. Come, Vengeance. Extinguish the heavens, tear the earth asunder. Come, Despair. Burn the world in blackest fire, leave naught but ashes in your wake. For I am come. A few agonizing moments later, I panted raggedly as I knelt on the ground, my forehead propped against the ground with both my fists carving deep furrows through the ashes that covered it. ¡°Mommy, are you alright?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I murmured unsteadily. ¡°I think so.¡± Slowly regaining my feet, I decided I would rather leave the past be. At least until it stopped smashing my face like a damn freight train at the slightest hint of a flashback. If this had truly done by my hand, just what kind of power was I able to harness? And why couldn''t I find any hint of it now? Too many questions, and no answers except for the great mother of a splitting headache I received everytime I knocked on that particular door. I would at least try to make some semblance of sense from the situation in front of me right now. I could only regret that I hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to spit in that uppity bitch¡¯s face before I burned her whole face off. Aw well. Such are my regrets in this, my tortuous existence.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Oh crap, wait a moment. The gloating grin I¡¯d been wearing slid right off my face. ¡°Shia, you said I burned them all?¡± I said heavily, stilling my chest. ¡°Yes, you did,¡± came the gentle reply. ¡°Then.. How about.. What about all the souls? What happened to all the souls trapped within the whole freaking Labyrinth of damn Souls?¡± I shouted, unable to keep my composure anymore. ¡°...¡± ¡°Shia!¡± I cried out. ¡°From ashes, to ashes..¡± came the soft whisper, and it crushed my heart in a vise grip. ¡°It.. I did.. It can¡¯t be,¡± I mumbled incoherently. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Mommy..¡± came Shia¡¯s words, and I could hear the tears in her gentle voice. ¡°I.. I killed them? Sol and Reaver? They¡¯re gone?¡± I breathed out, and a black fist kept squeezing my chest until my breath came in ragged pants, but as ever, there were no tears to be found. It was a dry sorrow, a wordless lament, the silent mourning of a soul far too worn and wasted to do anything but blame and hate. ¡°There must be way.. To undo it. To summon.. To.. You¡¯ve grown in your powers, right Shia? You¡¯ve learned new things!¡± ¡°Once the soul.. Once the soul is destroyed, the Great Cycle is broken, then it is the end of the journey, a final rest for the departed. I.. I¡¯m sorry, Mommy.¡± ¡°Of course, I did it. Again,¡± I whispered, and a bitter smile stretched my lips into a terrible mockery of a smile. ¡°Mommy, it wasn¡¯t your fault,¡± Shia began, her voice growing anxious. ¡°Of course it was, it always is. I knew it would do no good. I knew I would burn them in the end. It is what I do. It¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m good at. Everything good and pure I¡¯ve touched with my tainted hands, it ends up in the dumpster, worn and broken.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true, Mommy,¡± Shia tried to interject, but I was beyond listening to her sweet absurdity. ¡°It was a freak accident, an arcane catastrophe of uncontrollable proportions..¡± ¡°No, Shia,¡± I interrupted harshly, shaking my head back and forth. ¡°I wish I could accept your comfort, I truly do. However, I know I don¡¯t deserve such. It is the reason I am here in the first place. All I can do is take. Destroy. Burn. This quality, it has always defined my life, and it always will. My one constant, no matter where I am or what I become.¡± I lifted a trembling fist to my face, staring at it with bitter resignation. ¡°My one true calling.¡± ¡°Mommy..¡± ¡°I am here to burn, after all.¡± I spread my arms wide to the great desolate wasteland lying at my feet, and resigned myself to my fate as the Destroyer, the Devourer, the Godslayer. I came to bring chaos, not order. I am death come, not life. I am.. Full of shit. Wait a moment. Wait a god damn second. Wait. Wait. Wait. What the hell? ¡°No,¡± I whispered quietly, as I lifted a handful of ashes from the ground and held it gently in my hand. ¡°No,¡± I muttered darkly, and I clenched that fist convulsively, channeling all the rage and chaos from the hammering furnace of my heart, through the roaring currents of liquid fire coursing through my veins, and into that handful of ashes lying cold and inert within my trembling grip. ¡°No!¡± I yelled savagely, and the wild nature of an untamed beast answered my call. I could hear its unfettered fury tearing at the confines of a prison not my own. It demanded release, and it pounded away in a reckless frenzy against the walls of this cold, grey fort. ¡°NO!¡± I roared furiously, as chains and fetters strained beyond enduring at long last shattered, I was once more free. Free, at last. I will not be bound. I will not be denied. I will not lose them again! A burst of power pulsed through me, and rippled outward in a shockwave that traveled a thousand miles in an instant, rattling the edges of this space and finding it wanting. The very air around me seemed to buzz with a static crackling, as though I¡¯d just ripped the cover off a fuse box and poured water all over it. Sharp rupturing noises could be heard from all around me, and the skies lost their gloomy, perpetual grayness. Instead, its vague shapes seemed to slowly dissolve into straight lines and angles, until I could barely discern lines of incomprehensible writing scrawled all over the firmament above. Abruptly, multiple windows popped up before my face, one after the other.
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE 5511002
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE 5511002
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE 5558277
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE 6987821
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE1982746
    WARNING!
    ERROR CODE82716661
    The bizarre windows kept popping up everywhere, and I could swear the whole landscape around me was shuddering as though it were a mere breath from collapsing completely. So, of course, that¡¯s exactly what I did next. Shia seemed to sense something of what I was about to do, and she quickly exclaimed, ¡°Mommy, wait-!¡± Woops, too late. Sorry darling. ¡°Down!¡± I shouted, and I watched in smug satisfaction as rumbling echoes burst forth from my mouth and tore a goddamn black hole in the space before me! It was exactly that, a giant tear in the fabric of space, and beyond I could see a massive gate extending so high above that it became lost in the roiling clouds above. ¡°Mommy, maybe we shouldn¡¯t-¡± I held an imperious hand up to forestall further protest. Aw, don¡¯t be a party pooper, honey. ¡°I said, DOWN YOU BASTARDS!¡± I roared at the top of my lungs, and a veritable wave of red-tinged magic-something or the other lit the air with a visible corona of corruscading lightning as it sped off in an arc before me. Wherever it passed, the air shuddered violently for a moment before bursting apart with a buzzing noise and leaving a dark void in its place. When this churning mass of crimson lightning hit the gigantic gate, it seemed to light up with countless lights as though it were absorbing the energy. Then, very slowly, the gate began to glow with the same scarlet hue as a rumbling sound could be heard from beyond its enclosure.
    Database Login: Acepted
    Clearance Level: Alpha 1
    Awaiting command..
    ¡°What the hell?¡± I scratched my head. ¡°Shia?¡± ¡°Mommy, you went and broke the world,¡± came her immediate response, and she had the gall to sound peeved. ¡°I meant, what is this message?¡± I repeated, pointing at the strange menu floating before me. ¡°What message, Mommy?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t see it? Database entry? Clearance level?¡± ¡°Uh, are you sure you¡¯re feeling alright, Mommy? Erhm, you¡¯ve gone through a very stressful experience, and it is normal for biological entities..¡± ¡°Hey kid, cut it out right there. Give me a second to figure it out,¡± I muttered, scowling at the menu standing before it. It had to be a game context menu. Now that I thought about it, it made sense that Shia wouldn¡¯t be able to see it, since she was part of the game itself. Now, as for what this database did. Perhaps the interface wouldn¡¯t differ too much from modern Federation AI systems. ¡°Ahem. Query: What is the database?¡±
    Response
    CENND. Centralized Enhanced Neural Network Database. A fully autonomous facsimile of every individual physically connected to the Central Neural Network, as a further resource, failsafe and back up for vital procedural interventions on Project DEUS.
    I was completely thunderstruck. ¡°Query: How many individuals do you hold in record?¡±
    Response
    Response: As of 20:34:06.11 April 23rd, 2039 there are 43,192,299 entries stored in CENND.
    I sucked a breath in between my teeth. So many? But after the Great War barely more than 100 million people had been left alive. How could there be so many? Did that mean that nearly half of the world¡¯s population had been copied into this monstrous system? ¡°How could this be?¡± I breathed out, completely shaken. ¡°Mommy? Are you alright?¡± ¡°Hold.. Hold on Shia,¡± I managed. ¡°Query: What is the final objective of CENND?¡±
    WARNING!
    WARNING: Access to information restricted to clearance level Omega 3.
    ¡°Query: Who designed CENND?¡±
    WARNING!
    WARNING: Access to information restricted to clearance level Omega 3.
    ¡°Query: How long has CENND been running?¡±
    Response
    CENND has been active since 04:00:01.23 August 9th, 2033.
    Six years? That had been even before the beginning of my fall from grace, when I had declared all out war against the powers that be, and as a result had been crushed like a powerless insect under their indifferent heels. I closed my eyes as I began to recall all the experiences I had been through within the Labyrinth. In particular, I had been bewildered at impossibly complex and life-like nature of each and every individual within. Their own distinct memories which should have been locked within each of those individuals could not possibly have been extracted from my own mind. It sure as hell was no mere fiction either. No, I felt deep within my guts that each one of those people had been just that, people. After all, each distinct character related to my life had been in possession of character traits and flaws that had frankly surprised me as I had explored them for the first time. The incredibly varied palette of emotions they had displayed would have been beyond even the most sophisticated AI I had even heard of in development stages within military grade labs. However, Project Deus truly had access to a resource such as CENND, then it all slowly began to make a bizarre kind of sense. I could definitely understand the baffling complexity and fidelity to the inscrutable nature of the human psyche I had found as I interacted with each character within not only the Labyrinth, but Aeterna as a whole. Such advanced AI was far beyond the reach of anything I knew possible, but if there were real people behind them, I could see how the logistics of it could work. In theory, at least. However, the figure I had just learned was simply mind-boggling. After the Great War had ended and Earth had lost over 97% of its population through a deadly mix of bio-chemical warfare and the irrepressible human instinct towards the extinction of their own species, the relatively intact infrastructure had lain unmanned and unusable due to lack of personnel. Only through the passage of the highly controversial NCRA act, thereby conscripting and initiating the mass assimilation of all ¡°non-conforming¡± individuals into the vast neural network known as ¡°Valkyrie¡±. This massive network had been the sole medium through which humanity had been able to harness the vast armies of AI needed to manipulate the infrastructure needed to maintain order and stability in society, as well as nurturing future growth. The secrets through which Valkyrie was able to use the brains of the millions of unfortunate non-coms plugged into its neural network was one of the most highly guarded secrets of NEO, or the New Earth Order. Of course, the process of mechanization and assimilation of a breathing, living human being into a huge computer had as many staunch opposers as it had supporters. In the end, several compromises were needed to push the project through. One of them was Aeterna, the realization of an ambitious project (Codename: Project Deus) to allow the otherwise unproductive, non-conforming members of society to live out their lives within a fantasy world where theoretically anything would be possible. They would be free to live out their most cherished dreams and wildest ambition within the safe confines of this virtual universe. The second was the absolute agreement to never allow Valkyrie¡¯s existence to exceed the level of a neural networking interphase. In other words, the development of AI pertaining and relevant to any of Valkyrie¡¯s domains or functions was strictly forbidden under penalty of death. As it was, the AI supporting the management of Aeterna was shackled and regulated so heavily under layers and layers of checks and balances that the everyday maintenance of this virtual realm beggared the most intricate bureaucracies in most smaller countries in today¡¯s world. This was one of the reasons I had been so shocked when I had seen the level of detail and sheer complexity of Aeterna. I had assumed that Kyren, Zephyr, Sol, hell perhaps even Reaver were either player characters without memory of their real lives, or at the very least heavily player-influenced AI subroutines and algorithms. However, the Labyrinth had truly opened my eyes. Each of the soldiers whose eyes I¡¯d looked into as their lives were guttering like a candle blown by the storm, in the precious moment right before they had drawn their final breath, they had been just too damn real to be simple AIs. You just couldn¡¯t fake all the raw emotion, the sorrow, the loneliness, the resentment. Yet it had all been there, to one degree or another. I could still remember blondie¡¯s eyes as she whispered to me that I was the flame. It made my heart beat faster still, causing my pulse to accelerate and my hands to slowly twist into fists. I don¡¯t are what you think, no AI couldn¡¯t replicate that. Hell, most humans wouldn¡¯t be able to. Blondie had died in my arms. She was dead over 15 years past. How the hell had they managed to bring her back if the CENND project had only begun 6 years ago? But that must be what they had done. If that was true.. I began to breathe in ragged pants, my eyes beginning to flood with a red tinge. My heart beat like a jackhammer and it pounded away at my sanity until it slow began to crack. ¡°Mommy?¡± ¡°Q.. Query: Is it possible to search the database for the records of a specific individual?¡±
    Response
    Alpha 1 Clearance has access to CENND records up to Priority Level 3. Please state the name of the individual.
    ¡°Major Ombue Akatombe.¡±
    Match Found: Major Ombue Akatombe ??Codename:Warthog
    Records found. Priority Level 2. VRS Code 28874661-2. Status: Active.
    Active? What did that mean? Was he part of Aeterna now? However, my mind at the moment had no chance to entertain any of those questions as I single-mindedly pursued a single track. ¡°Colonel Dominik Stahl.¡±
    Match Found:Colonel Dominik Stahl ??Codename: Ironmask
    Records found. Priority Level 3. VRS Code 47728112-1. Status: Active.
    Colonel Dominik Stahl A.K.A. Ironmask. Hardly able to contain myself, I continued at a breakneck speed. Only two more names left. ¡°Major Katarina Snow.¡±
    Match Found:Major Katarina Snow?? Codename: Queen of Hearts
    Records found. Priority level 3. VRS Code 472676612-1. Status: Active.
    My fists convulsively slammed my chest as I sought to slow down the frenetic beating of my heart. I stared in helpless desperation at the windows open in front of me as I forced myself to draw one more shaking breath. If only. If only sinners were allowed second chances. If only repentance went hand in hand with redemption. If only mortals were allowed to fall in love with angels. Ah, if only. I slowly exhaled, and it felt as though part of my soul escaped with that same breath as my lips formed the words I had been dreading to speak this entire time. ¡°Sophia Valerossia.¡± Chapter 41 - Soulgate Chapter 41 -Soulgate ¡°Sophia Valerossia.¡± It was a prayer, no more. I gave wings to it with baited breath, but deep inside I knew it would avail me for nothing. Nothing is ever that easy, was it?
    WARNING!
    Access to information restricted to clearance level Omega 5.
    Omega 5? For Sophia? Why? Even Stahl, a relatively major figure in the Federation army had only merited an Alpha clearance. ¡°Query: State parameters for clearance level Omeg-¡± The rest of those words died in my mouth as the system window began to flash red all of a sudden. This couldn¡¯t be good. Had the system detected my intrusion? But I thought my clearance level granted me access. Why did I warrant a clearance level anyhow? I was about to voice my question when a new window popped up in right in front of my face.
    WARNING!
    File corruption has been detected. Emergency backup system has been initiated. Restoring systems to nominal levels..
    Progress 1%
    ¡°Wait, wait, I¡¯m not finished yet! Stop!¡± I frantically waved my hands and shouted. ¡°Cancel. Abort. Exit. Pause.¡± Nothing worked as the status bar slowly filled up. As it did, the desolate landscape that had become the Labyrinth began to emit a neon green glow underneath the thick layer of ashes blanketing it all. It slowly gained intensity, even as the ashes themselves seemed to absorb some of that luminosity. Without the slightest hint of a breeze, the smallest specks of ash began to float off the ground, being gathered by some invisible power towards a central point high in sky. More and more particles began to gather, gaining momentum as the status bar in front of me reached 10%. Thick streams of green light began to flow smoothly towards that ball of light, which began to slowly revolve on its own axis. As it continued to gain mass at an absurd rate, its glow reached the point where it was almost blinding. ¡°Mommy, what happened? I can feel power being restored to the Labyrinth!¡± came Shia¡¯s alarmed voice. ¡°It must be some sort of brilliantly conceived and flawlessly executed fail-safe mechanism!¡± ¡°You mean you stuck your fat foot on a trap,¡± came Shia¡¯s pedantic reply. ¡°Eh, if you must insist with your, how did you put it, ¡®crass oversimplification¡¯. Anyway, I tried to stop it but it isn¡¯t working and it is almost halfway done by now. Any ideas?¡± ¡°Can¡¯t you.. Do your grouchy old guy act again?¡± ¡°What grouchy.. Oh. Eh, I guess I should try. Though I¡¯m not much feeling it just at the moment,¡± I added lamely. It was the truth. Although I could still feel the remnants of whatever power I had ignited buzzing in my blood, the berserk cries for bloody murder in my head had been turned down by about eleven notches or so. ¡°Well, whenever you¡¯re feeling up for it Mommy, I think it would really help. I''m sure the terrifying giant ball of doom will be happy to take a number and wait,¡± came the rather sassy reply. ¡°Well, we took on the Labyrinth once, we can do it again,¡± I shrugged helplessly as I glanced at the progress bar. It stood at 25% now. ¡°Mommy!¡± ¡°Oh fine,¡± I grumbled. Furrowing my brow, I held out a hand in front of me while focusing my intent and calling back to memory the agonizing mind bender I¡¯d just been put through. Damn Labyrinth. Stupid soulsucking bastards. And voila, that just about did it. One instant I was holding out my hand and staring into it like I was a drug junkie baked so high I just couldn''t decide whether it really was my hand or not, then the next a glowing sword burning with etheral blue flames sprang into being in it - Yeah, just like that. Long live the soul realm, or whatever this place could be called. In here, my crappy physical constitution meant nothing, and the untold thousands upon thousands of souls I had absorbed meant I was veritably bursting at the seams with power. Though I still couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of this damnable place, if all it took to wield this power was the strength of an iron will, then I could liberally deliver a big can of whoopass on anyone, anytime. God, it felt good to be me once more. ¡°Wow, that was impressive Mommy!¡± Shia trilled excitedly. I squinted critically at the sword for a long moment, then the silliest mental image of one of the old vintage films gramps used to watch floated to the surface, unbidden. The scene consisted of a tomb explorer facing a master swordsman in a one to one duel, and the latter began by unsheathing a very impressive monster of a blade and expertly flourishing it in the air, grinning evilly as he challenged the explorer. In turn, the explorer had casually proceeded to draw his trustyrevolver from its holster and blasted the poor deluded fool into kingdom come with a single effortless shot from twenty yards out. The poor devil had gone down like he''d been pole-axed and that was that. That¡¯s right. Never bring a knife to a gunfight. That¡¯s some solid advice, right there. Matching words to actions, I disdainfully tossed the flaming sword over my shoulder, then furrowed my brows as I decided to give this whole arming myself to the teeth in soul munitions another shot. ¡°Um, Mommy? Flaming swords might come in handy right about now, you know,¡± Shia called out dubiously. I barely let out a snort in reply as I exerted the full power of my will. C''mon, come to daddy! There! I couldn¡¯t help but grunt with surprise as I suddenly found myself heavily overbalanced when another light flashed over my hand and a monstrous contraption of radiation-shielded titanium alloy likely weighing well over 180 pounds nearly wrenched my arm out of the socket. Portable (Yeah right!) anti-materiel fusion missile launcher, or Little PAM as they had become known during the war. They were cumbersome, weighed about a metric ton and you basically made yourself a sitting duck right in the middle of wherever the hell you were, painting yourself as a priority target to anyone who wanted to avoid being blasted into nuclear waste. But if you did manage to get a shot off, well. You would have more pressing concerns at hand, like how to avoid being blasted into nuclear waste by your own gun, as I¡¯d previously mentioned. ¡°Haha! Now that¡¯s more like it!¡± I roared like a little kid who had picked up the rubber duckie Santa had left under the tree and hauled the stingy old bastard by the cuff and clubbed him senseless with the ridiculous rubber bird, then snatched the old man¡¯s bag of goodies for good measure and found a whole lot of merriness inside the package. Oh yeah, time to rain on someone¡¯s parade. ¡°Alright, who¡¯s the next batter? Step right on up,¡± I drawled, all teeth while I flicked the safety off and trained the massive muzzle of the nuclear megagun of doom towards the glowing vortex spinning in the sky. "Shia, honey. You might want to close your eyes for this one. It''s gonna be one hell of a boom!" "Go go go!" ¡°Ahem. Lord Seth, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from taking any ill-advised actions we might all regret later,¡± came a melodious voice from over my shoulder, back towards where the massive gates had been, sounding mildly amused of all things! I instantly did a 180, leading with the nuke launcher and instantly regretting it as the sheer mass of it almost wrenched my poor hips out of their sockets. Aw, who am I kidding. I loved every second of it. Ask any guy, this is the stuff we live for. All that power, right there under my hands, just begging to be used. Perfect. I was ready to let whichever evil overlord had risen from the dead to challenge my stake on this, my little hill out in the middle of nowhere, get a mouthful of catastrophic thermonuclear fissile chain reaction to melt their socks off into radioactive goo and change. But insteadI simply stared. Because I knew this chick. ¡°Selendra?¡± I mumbled while gawking like an idiot. The Gatekeeper, the Guardian of the Keys, the Champion of the Lost, Lady of the Mists of Serenity herself, in the flesh. Or the ethereal equivalent, I suppose. How had she gotten here and what was she doing? The Goddess of the Gates definitely looked the part, all majestic presence and comforting aura of benevolence. Long, glistening locks of azure fell nearly to her waist over a long, flowing white dress with silver accents. The fabric framed slim curves that nonetheless accentuated all the right places. Her eyes were deep, limpid pools of violet, glowing with an intriguing inner light. Her lips glowed with a pink luster as they lightly curved upward in an amiable smile. So of course, me being who I am, I just narrowed my eyes slightly as I kept my big nasty gun pointed straight at her. Sure, I had gotten a really good vibe from her back at the Gates of Oblivion. After all, technically speaking she had cheated in order to haul my burning ass off the fire, back there when I had been running out of fumes and had for all intents and purposes failed in my mad attempt to unlock the Gates of Oblivion with my memories intact. Still, no point in taking unnecessary risks. I might have screwed a lot of things up for not being willing to trust others, but let it never be said that I had been royally screwed over for being just too damn trusting. The Lady of the Mists of Oblivion gazed at me with a decidedly mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she brought her hand up to her chest and retreated in mock terror.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Why, Lord Seth. One hopes you would desist from pointing what I must assume is a terrifying instrument of destruction in the direction of a lady. Especially one who would consider herself your friend.¡± ¡°Yeah, about that. I¡¯m a little twitchy after wandering for what seems a freaking eternity through a deathmaze while some obscure evil power tries to suck my soul dry for supper,¡± I grinned rather apologetically while my gun didn¡¯t waver in the slightest. ¡°The Corrupt Ones have been vanquished - by your capable hands, might I add. This particular Soulgate had been in their foul clutches for a mere handful of years, yet your victory over them is still very impressive.¡± ¡°Meh, it was a walk in the park,¡± I scoffed, then glanced over my shoulder towards the glowing vortex spinning in the sky behind my back. ¡°You have 10 seconds to tell me why I shouldn¡¯t blow that thing to hell before it revives.¡± ¡°There are a host of reasons, Lord Seth,¡± Selendra responded with a smile, then spread her hands to the sides in an appeasing gesture as she continued speaking while staring straight into my eyes. ¡°Perhaps one of the more immediately relevant ones to your person might be the fates of your lost companions, little Sol and faithful Reaver.¡± My eyes blazed with fire as I tightened my grip. ¡°Keep going. Five seconds.¡± ¡°The taint has been cleansed and the Soulgate will soon be restored. I can feel the wandering remnants of their souls lingering in this place, unwilling to pass on towards the Mists of Serenity. You may be able to bring them back.¡± I grit my teeth while my mind worked furiously. On the one hand, would I truly be able to save Sol and Reaver? What if this was all a trap? How had Selendra suddenly shown herself here, out of nowhere, at the exact time when she was most needed to prevent a major catastrophe as I blew the remnant souls of Sol and Reaver into radioactive ashes? No, I realized. Some things never change. If something sounds too good to be true, then it usually is. Though the risk of letting that glowing ball in the sky finish whatever it was doing might only be the reconstruction of that hellish labyrinth, along with those soulsucking bitches making a comeback.. That disturbing segment of blank tape inside my head where I could not recall how I had ended up burning this whole world to cinders was simply too much of a risk. I could only hope that Sol and Reaver would find peace in whatever reincarnation the system admins and the Valkyrie network found for them, in spite of Shia¡¯s fears to the contrary. I¡¯m sorry kiddo. And you too, you stinking mutt. We had a good run. As I steeled myself to turn around, Selendra lifted her hand in my direction in earnest entreaty. Only, it wasn¡¯t me she spoke to. ¡°Guardian of the Soulbound, spread your perception and you shall find the veracity of my words for your master!¡± she cried out. Guardian of the Soulb.. Oh crap, Selendra could feel Shia¡¯s presence? After a moment, I realized it made perfect sense, since Selendra may well have been the one to give Shia to me in the first place, back when I had overcome the trials at the Gates of Oblivion. ¡°Mommy, she¡¯s right! I can feel it as well! It¡¯s so faint I can barely sense them, but it is growing stronger and stronger with each second. I think she¡¯s telling the truth!¡± At Shia¡¯s words, Selendra seemed to truly lose her composure for the first time since she''d shown up. She stared at me with a blank look of confusion before slightly shaking her head, then she mastered herself and the look of placid serenity was back once more. That''s right, you heard the Guardian just call me Mommy. Ahem. So yeah, I¡¯ve picked up a little book-child who just so happens to be a sentient artifact of unfathomable power. But enough about me, what¡¯s new with you doll? Uh-huh. I might just have pointed out such a fact, merely for the hell of it and to watch her reaction, but that damn status bar had reached 95% already. Whatever was going to happen, I had to make a choice. It was now or never. ¡°Mommy! Trust me!¡± Shia called out, as though she could feel my inner struggle. I let out a long sigh and flicked the safety back on before unlimbering the big behemoth. Lowering it to the ground with a heavy clanging sound, I casually leaned an elbow over it while staring mournfully at what could have been. ¡°I¡¯m honored by the trust you¡¯ve placed on my words, Lord Seth,¡± Selendra said in her graceful, flowing voice, but then seemed to hesitate slightly as she studied my haggard expression. ¡°Are you unwell? Did the summoning of your soul armament tax you too heavily?¡± Shia, of course, was the only one who really got it. ¡°Hehehe, you really just wanted to shoot your newest big bad toy, didn¡¯t you Mommy?¡± Shia chirped. Selendra¡¯s eyebrows shot up as her serene smile faltered momentarily. ¡°Hey, some are born painters, some as singers, others as great leaders of men,¡± I defended myself while shrugging my shoulders like a guilty schoolboy caught shoplifting, then shot the goddess a cheeky grin. ¡°Me, I just blow stuff up.¡± Right at that instant, the bar reached 100% and a new window popped up just as the glowing ball in the sky exploded in a blinding flash of light, forcing me to avert my eyes.
    Attention!
    File integrity restored. All levels nominal. Exiting emergency mode.
    Congratulations!
    You have earned a new achievement: "Liberator of the Soulgate"!
    When I turned around, I struggled not to gape at the radical change to my surroundings. The skies were now whole, with an impossibly bright moon and a sea of stars shining down on endless forests that stretched on as far as I could see. We stood in a huge stone courtyard with massive stone pillars erected all around. Towering trees could be seen lining the outer edges of the circle, but down a wide path paved with perfectly flat rocks led into the distance, where tall stone buildings could be seen breaking up the skyline. ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked, assessing the surrounding area and looking for possible threats, just out of habit I suppose. Selendra laid a hand flat against her chest while dipping in an elegant curtsy. ¡°I bid thee welcome to the Shrine of Kadrensaxthras, the Mighty Guardian of the Soulgate of the Crimson Flame.¡± ¡°Alright, start from the beginning. What is this Soulgate nonsense? I thought we were in the Labyrinth of souls.¡± A cold light entered Selendra¡¯s eyes as her lips twisted in disgust. ¡°Those foul creatures sought to corrupt this holy shrine, and thus twist the powers of the Soulgate to their nefarious ends.¡± Selendra must have caught the look of utter bewilderment in my eyes, as slowly she lowered her head for an instant and drew in a long breath. Then she lifted her gaze to meet mine and the refreshing serenity I¡¯d become used to associating with her was back. ¡°I apologize, Lord Seth. Please allow me to explain, though I shall beg your forbearance as revisiting the dark events involved in this tale is not an easy task, nor a pleasant one.¡± I nodded my acquiescence. ¡°The soul is the vital essence of every living being, and though for mortals their flesh may eventually decay and die, the soul endures. Such mysteries contain unfathomable power, and ever has it been the temptation of lesser wills. These ruthless deviants seek to corrupt and enslave the souls of weaker beings, that they may feed on such an essence and assimilate it into their own.¡± I have to admit it, I couldn¡¯t help but wince inwardly at the utter contempt I could hear in the goddess¡¯ voice. I suddenly felt the urge to sheepishly raise my hand and fess up, owning up to the ugly truth that I was, in fact, one of those ¡°ruthless deviants¡±, as she put it. Well, for about a hundredth of a second, that is. Hey, what you don¡¯t know can¡¯t hurt you, ya know? Then again, hadn¡¯t Shia been given to me by Selendra herself, back at the Gates of Oblivion? Wouldn¡¯t she know about my soulbinding ritual then? Questions kept spinning circles in my head but I abruptly centered all my attention on Selendra as my daughter decided to jump the gun for me. ¡°Excuse me, Lady Selendra. Is this related to the soulbinding ritual?¡± Selendra shook her head slowly, then offered a reassuring smile. ¡°Of course not, child. Though higher powers may engage in a soulbinding ritual with a lesser being, such willing exchanges are a different proposition altogether from what I¡¯ve described. The souls the soulbound is able to absorb and manipulate are directly linked to the power of the magical artifact used as the focus in the ritual, as well as the level of power of the soulbound himself. That is because the soulbound is not truly assimilating the soul energy himself. He¡¯s not even the conduit for such energies, for it is a fearsome power indeed. Instead, the soulbound is merely the benefactor of the excess energy naturally dispersed back to the Infinity Well when all souls leave their mortal shells and return to the Endless Cycle.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± I muttered, deciding to ignore all the fancy new terminology. Hadn¡¯t this chick ever heard of something called layman¡¯s terms? I smirked to myself as the thought crossed my mind that Zephyr and this chick would be a match made in heaven. ¡°Phew,¡± Shia breathed a huge sigh of relief. Selendra nodded lightly in my - and therefore Shia¡¯s direction - while offering a reassuring smile. ¡°As you come into your true powers, you will naturally come to understand this and many deeper truths, dear child. Matters such as the Soulgates, for instance. Originally, these sacred shrines were meant to ensure the safe passage of wandering souls into their next incarnation through the Eternal Cycle. However, a new breed of immortals has arisen who seek power by any means. These corrupt godlings would seek to corrupt the Soulgates and extract weaker soul essences in order to absorb their power, completely destroying their original owners.¡± "You mean those so-called "Worthy" running the Labyrinth were gods?" I asked in shock. Selendra gently shook her head at me, "Surely not, Lord Seth. Though the power of your soul and the might of your will is formidable indeed, you would be but a single candle fluttering in an endless storm in front of the terrible deities I speak of. No, Lord Seth. The petty shades you vanquished were mere ants taking advantage of the higher powers'' wilfull neglect." ¡°Right. That''s my next question. Why haven¡¯t you or the other gods done anything about it?¡± Selendra¡¯s eyes lost focus as a host of emotions flickered in her gaze. From anger, to frustration, to sorrow, then finally, resignation. It was only then that she spoke. ¡°These are matters I cannot discuss with you for the moment, for the knowledge would only mark your doom. You are simply not strong enough, and there are beings of terrifying power that can sense unguarded minds plotting against their tyrannical will.¡± Yeah, thanks for the reminder. Nice kick to the balls, right when a guy is down. Selendra seemed to have noticed the slight change in my expression, and she smiled apologetically before continuing. ¡°Do not take my words to heart, Lord Seth. Gather your strength, grasp the threads of your fate and seize dominance overyour destiny. Our faith in you has not proven false," Selendra finished with a mysterious smile. "What? Our? Who''s we?" I asked suspiciously. The goddess swayed her head softly from side to side. "That is neither here or now. Suffice to say, the Soulgates are natural nodes where souls will gather, aiding their swift and safe passage into the Endless Cycle. It is here that you may make a choice, Lord Seth.¡± For once, Selendra¡¯s eyes seemed to lose their usual tender lightheartedness, as she met my gaze and spoke in a firm, level tone, ¡°Though I may wish otherwise, I am bound by ancient covenants against interfering in the affairs of the mortal realm.¡± Selendra paused for a moment while she lifted a hand in my direction. Her fingers seemed to have lost a certain density, visibly losing focus as they slowly turned transparent right before my eyes. ¡°Already, I can feel the karmic laws of the cosmos tugging at the edges of my soulsense,¡± Selendra added with a bittersweet smile. ¡°Time presses, and the choice now lies before you. The soul essences of your companions still linger at the edges of the Soulgate, and though it will demand a great sacrifice from you, you may yet be able to summon them back into this mortal realm.¡± Indeed, her figure was growing more vague and illusory by the second, as though her flesh were slowly dissipating into glowing motes of light. ¡°How?¡± I asked succinctly. Selendra gently dipped her head in the direction of the stone path leading towards the buildings in the distance, as her figure continued to disperse. ¡°You will find your answers there. The Keeper of the Shrine shall guide you the rest of the way. I have done all I can for now.¡± Selendra¡¯s eyes crinkled slightly at the edges in a tender smile, ¡°Child, serve your master well, for he will need your strength and support in the dark tides to come.¡± ¡°Yes, Lady Selendra.¡± Shia answered with uncharacteristic gravity. "Why are you helping me?" I blurted out, while silently kicking myself. I couldn''t help it. If only she knew that I had come to her world in order to utterly destroy it.. Selendra wordlessly gazed into my eyes, and chills ran down my back as it almost felt as though she were reading the thoughts right out of my head. She then tilted the corners of her lips upward in an amused smile, and slowly shook her head from side to side. ¡°Fare thee well for now, Lord Seth. May the Great Mother watch over your steps, just as she ever has.¡± Well, I would take that as a vague acknowledgement that she''d been warned. It''s not like I could simply go up to a full blown god and casually spout, "Hey, I''m here to burn your world to cincers. Yeah, just like I''ve done here in the Labyrinth. Yep, I''m just telling you now because I''m an idiot with a deathwish with guilt-ridden conscience issues." So, I did the next best thing. ¡°You as well, Selendra. You have my thanks.¡± Hey, give me a break. I almost never give anyone thanks. That''s something, at the very least. Selendra offered me one final smile, that same mischievous one she had shared the last time before sending me through the Gates of Oblivion, and then she was gone. Oh crap. Eh, I was starting to have a bad feeling about this so-called Keeper of the Shrine. ¡°Aw well, how bad could it be?¡± I muttered to myself while bending over to sling my trusty metaphorical flaming sword over my shoulder. And by metaphorical sword, of course, I meant my totally badass tactical nuke launcher. ¡°Hehehe, what¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± I chortled, then whistled a merry little tune while trudging down the walkway. Famous last words. Chapter 42 - The Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Flame Chapter 42 - The Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Flame Remember that bit where I scoffed about what the worst thing that could happen would be? Well yeah, I¡¯ve been known to say stupid stuff like that, from time to time. Fate, of course, is not without its macabre sense of humor. What do I mean? Well, lets start from the beginning.. *** Walking down the stone paved path, more like an avenue, I couldn''t help but admire the numerous stone pillars that rose tall on our sides. They were a series of gigantic cylinders of granite or some other type of hard rock. The sides were each carved with decorative reliefs that depicted different beasts and mysterious runes had been engraved at the massive pedestals that made up their base. ¡°Mommy, this is really impressive!¡± Shia¡¯s voice rang out with a hint of awe. ¡°Meh, waste of time and effort. I sure hope they¡¯re not there just for decoration,¡± I replied indifferently while making my way down the path. So much wasted effort! ¡°Mommy, there¡¯s an artistic value attached to great monuments such as these!¡± Shia protested. ¡°Can you eat art? Can you bash someone¡¯s head in with it? Hell, I can¡¯t even sell these off to some snooty old coot too rich for his own good,¡± I grumbled. ¡°Hmpph!¡± came Shia¡¯s indignant reply. I ignored her for a while, steadily making my way closer to the massive buildings rising up into the sky up ahead. As we gradually drew closer, we finally spotted what seemed to be a massive plaza with a beautiful fountain of a maiden tilting an earthen jar over a massive sword imbedded into the rockbed below. Crystal clear water constantly bubbled forth from the jar, spilling over the sword and spreading in ripples to the fountain below. Hey, I recognized that sword. Drawing closer with a disbelieving stare, I saw a golden plaque attached to the outer rim of the fountain. The words on it were of a graceful, flowing script that I could not understand. ¡°Shia, can you interpret what the words are saying?¡± ¡°They seem to have a passing resemblance to the script we encountered in the ruins above, but the data is insufficient for an accurate translation. Destroyer of Skies, perhaps?¡± Shia pondered in a thoughtful tone. ¡°Actually, it is read Maelkhatheroth, which loosely translated would be closer to ¡°Heaven Rending Annihilator¡¯,¡± came a female voice with a hint of wistfulness in its tone. ¡°Malky,¡± I mumbled helplessly, gawking at the massive sword that looked almost identical to the useless chunk of steel Sol had lugged around everywhere, except for a few minor details. Oh, and the size. This massive blade could easily be twice as big! It was a true abomination of a blade. Shaking my head slowly, I turned around on my heel to face the newcomer. ¡°I assume you¡¯re the Keeper of the Shrine?¡± I asked, studying the person before me. She stood tall and long-limbed, dressed in simple yet elegant long robes that gracefully fell down her back and trailed behind her as she approached. Lustrous hair that glimmered red like fire cascaded down her shoulders, matching deep crimson eyes that burned with a fascinating spark within. Though she would have been a beauty without peer once, the years had left their mark on her skin, with many wrinkles marring the otherwise exquisite symmetry of her features. She didn¡¯t just look old, however. She radiated with the air of an ancient power, one that commanded attention and respect. ¡°In the flesh, or the soul equivalent of such, I suppose,¡± the woman bowed her head affably while clasping a hand to her chest while the other delicately held the robes at her waist in greeting. ¡°I am Sharizhassleanna, humble Keeper of the Shrine. I bid thee welcome to the Soulgate of Crimson Flame, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°Oh, hey,¡± I nodded awkwardly while raising a hand in acknowledgement, trying to wrap my head around all these damn impossible tongue twisters of names. ¡°Please call me Sharinne, Lord Seth,¡± she added helpfully. ¡°Oh, good. Ah, wait. Hold that thought for a second, how come you know my name, and why does everyone keep calling me ¡®Lord Seth¡¯ this and ¡®Lord Seth¡¯ that?¡± ¡°I have been admiring your progress throughout the abominable Labyrinth those filthy Fallen fashioned from our holy grounds,¡± she responded calmly, then continued with a hint of chagrin. ¡°I offer my humble apologies for not being able to assist. However, at the time my powers had been waning for too long, and it was all I could do to gather the soul essences of Soledad and her champion.¡± ¡°I understand. Don¡¯t sweat it,¡± I waved off her apology, then froze in mid-motion. ¡°Soledad? Her champion?¡± The Keeper blinked at me in confusion. ¡°Why yes, the loyal Dragonspawn, Scion of the Ancients, Reaver of the Storm, faithful companion to Soledad..¡± I held up a hand in shock, ¡°Whoa, hold up there for a second. Rewind, you said her? Are we talking about the same Sol? Tiny kid, red hair, tan skin, runny nose, annoying grin, couldn¡¯t hurt a fly?¡± Sharinne nodded solemnly, though her lips twitched minutely. ¡°Indeed we are, Lord Seth. Is something the matter?¡± I felt like I¡¯d been sucker punched, disorientedly roving my eyes about while trying to make some sense of this madness. Sol was a she? The brat had been a girl? Things slowly clicked into place as I realized that many confounding matters were finally starting to make sense. Sol¡¯s odd behavior at camp from time to time. Her perpetually smudged and dirty face. Kyren, that savvy little street urchin¡¯s obvious fascination towards Sol. Her weird posture and balance while I attempted to train her. Oh, what a fool I¡¯d been. ¡°Is something the matter, Lord Seth?¡± Sharinne inquired, clearly puzzled. ¡°Heehee, Mommy fiiiiiiiiiinally knows!¡± Shia giggled in my ear. ¡°Wha? Wait, you knew?¡± I asked in disbelief. ¡°Of course Shia did, you sillyhead,¡± came the instant reply. ¡°How.. Since when?¡± I stammered. ¡°Since the very beginning, of course. Kind of hard to miss, really. I¡¯m surprised it took you this long,¡± she added mockingly. ¡°Oh, woe is me, for my mommy is blind and-¡± ¡°Bah! Says you, the magical artifact of untold power,¡± I defended myself. ¡°Mr. Zephyr knew too,¡± Shia instantly interjected, as though she¡¯d been ready to pounce long, long ago and had since just been waiting for the opportunity. ¡°Kyren as well. I¡¯m pretty certain Jae¡¯thun the Hunter and Vyse from the Watch knew too. Even Tarik! Shall I keep going?¡± ¡°Stop, stop, I get it. No need to beat the dead horse to the ground,¡± I muttered darkly. ¡°Ehehe, Shia got the better of mommy,¡± she teased a final time. ¡°Ahem,¡± I cleared my throat and returned my attention to Sharinne, who to her credit stood at attention with a perfectly straight face. ¡°Sharinne, just what or who is Sol? How is she related to this place?¡± Sharinne closed her eyes and her expression seemed to sag just a little, but then she drew a deep breath and seemed to gather herself. When she opened her eyes once more, a steely resolution seemed to burn in her eyes. ¡°Lord Seth, I must begin by explaining that there are twenty four Soulgates spread throughout the face of Aeterna. Each acts as a stalwart guardian and revered protector to the millions of souls nurtured by the Infinity Well before journeying onward to the Endless Cycle.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I nodded to myself while narrowing my eyes. 24 Gates? Good, that sounds like a whole lotta souls for me to suck clean. ¡°Unfortunately, many have fallen to the Corruption and more still lie under siege as we speak, the countless souls under their protection at grave peril.¡± ¡°From ancient times, the Divine Pantheon has refrained from taking direct action in accordance to the Heavenly Will and the Covenant of Ages. Instead, they have appointed Guardians to stand vigil over these sacred sites and empowered them to defend them at all costs.¡± ¡°Pisspoor job of it they¡¯re doing so far,¡± I muttered. ¡°Mommy!¡± Shia scolded, shocked. Sharinne flinched as her face turned pale. ¡°Lord Seth, my brethren, my sisters and brothers have devoted their whole existence to this holy purpose. I beg you not to profane the memory of their sacrifice without full knowledge of the dreadful war we wage.¡± I sighed deeply, and nodded my head in acknowledgement. I was just so tired of all these cosmic struggles that constantly revolved my world upside down, while I sat helpless in the face of a mere overweight merchant turned robber - possibly occult cultist - like Tarik. It felt like I¡¯d been relegated to being a pathetic sideshow in my own story, and it burned my entrails with bitter poison that smoked my heart until it I could spit black blood. Still, no reason to lash out at this woman who seemed, for all intents and purposes, willing to aid me and mine. Sharinne seemed to acknowledge my unspoken apology, and continued her story in graver tones, if possible. ¡°The Soulgate of Crimson Flame stood at the vanguard of this great war for hundreds of years, but our power waned while the Corruption spread. Eventually, we reached a tipping point and our final line of defenses was breached, our holy Temple defiled and twisted to their vile purposes.¡± ¡°In a final act of desperation, I sealed my essence within that of the youngest child of our clan, the most promising seedling we had seen in generations. A fierce, dauntless warrior with limitless potential who would rise to avenge our deaths. Time pressed, and we were absolutely spent when we finished the ritual, but we managed to break through the enemy blockade and the barrier they had erected around the Shrine.¡± ¡°However, it came at a grievous cost. Most of our number fell, giving of their own soul essences in order to power our final ritual. Even then, Soledad¡¯s mighty soul was gravely injured, and her essence splintered into two separate shards.¡± ¡°Wait, what? Sol is the supremely talented warrior you chose to save?¡± I gawked at her in disbelief. Sharinne nodded gravely, ¡°Indeed, Lord Seth. Soledad is the sole heir to the legacy of the Keeper of the Shrine and the next champion of the Soulgate of the Crimson Flame.¡± Thunderstruck, I tottered back on my heels, staring at Sharinne with wide eyes. Sure, the kid had some potential, but a freaking badass who would stand up toe to toe with ancient godlings and this harrowing Corruption that seemed hellbent on swallowing the world? Yeah, not a chance. Sharinne must have read something in my expression, because she offered me an understanding smile while she continued her explanation. ¡°You may find it hard to believe at this time, and I cannot blame you. Soledad¡¯s soul has sustained an injury even more grievous than I¡¯d imagined. Her shattered essence would have been enough for most individuals to become a drooling, mindless fool. It is only due to the overbearing tenacity of her soul that she was able to maintain a semblance of normality. However, this is a mere veneer, simply the tip of a colossal iceberg overflowing with limitless, untapped potential.¡± I nodded slowly at her words, mulling over them. Finally, I reached a decision. ¡°So, how do we help her?¡± Sharinne narrowed her eyes, then lowered her head in a deep bow towards me. ¡°Lord Seth, the Shrine of the Crimson Flame owes you the deepest depth of gratitude. It is a solemn obligation which we shall endeavor heart and mind to one day make restitution for in full. However, at this time you have done enough, and your involvement with Soledad shall come to an end.¡± I frowned at her words. ¡°Ya know, for all the fancy wordiing, that sounded dangerously close to a command. And I¡¯m not afraid to tell you, I¡¯ve never been all that good at following orders.¡± I added, while casually flicking the safety off my tactical nuke launcher. Yeah, I couldn¡¯t wait to finally get to use this bad boy. So sue me. Sharinne shook her head at my words. ¡°You misunderstand the meaning of my words, Lord Seth. After the terrifying display of power you employed to raze the Labyrinth to the ground, Soledad and Reaver¡¯s soul were nearly extinguished by the ruthless blaze. At the last moment, I was able to gather their souls into my embrace, and then sought shelter in the ruins of our Shrine. Though I do not fully understand how it has now been restored to this extent, as you can see it is an empty husk of its former self. We the keepers shall have to endeavor for many years to nurture our strength.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all fine and good, but what does that have to do with Sol?¡± ¡°Soledad¡¯s soul essence lies under my protection now. Though I¡¯ve been able to piece the shattered remnants of her soul together, she will need the sustained regenerating power of the Soulgate in order to slowly meld her twin soul shards together. As her soul is currently bound together only through the power of the Soulgate, it will disperse should she leave its confines.¡± I mulled over that for a while. It was true that I felt some measure of obligation to look after the runt and her pup. Hell, I even liked them, if it came down to admitting it. However, I really had no reason to insist after Sharinne¡¯s explanation. Sol would probably be under much more capable hands than mine, in any case. From here on out, after all, I would walk a path of blood and slaughter. So, that would nicely tie down some loose ends. I was ready to dust my hands off the whole ordeal when my lovely daughter cut in. ¡°But Sharinne, you¡¯re not really the Keeper at all. You¡¯re just a shadow,¡± Shia accused. I jumped, startled by Shia¡¯s sudden revelation. Maybe I would get to use my shiny little nuke, after all. However, Sharinne simply stood impassively for a moment, before gravely nodding her head. ¡°Indeed, Keeper Sharine has long perished waging that final battle that saw Soledad freed into the Mortal World. Although I am a mere fragment of her consciousness left behind to guard her last will, I am still enough to direct the energies of the Soulgate to nourish Soledad back to health. By then, I will have extinguished the very last of Keeper Sharinne¡¯s power, but her final will shall be accomplished.¡± ¡°And how long will it take to restore Sol¡¯s soul shards?¡± Shia questioned mercilessly. Sharinne¡¯s ghost nodded with a heavy sigh. ¡°A hundred years at the very least, more likely two hundred.¡± ¡°What if the Corruption launches another attack against this Soulgate in the meantime?¡± Sharinne¡¯s complexion became ashen. ¡°I.. I shall reinforce our wards and attempt to seek assistance from the other Keepers,¡± she began, but then her words seemed to falter. ¡°Shia, enough,¡± I whispered. ¡°But Mommy! Sol might be in greater danger here than with us!¡± Shia protested. I sighed deeply before swiveling my head to raise an eyebrow in Sharinne¡¯s direction. ¡°There is another way to restore Sol, isn¡¯t there?¡± Sharinne could only gaze mutely at me for a long moment, before slowly nodding her head in assent. Of course, Selendra had said I would face a choice, and that I could save Sol and Reaver should I so choose. ¡°Well?¡± I urged her on. Sharinne¡¯s eyes flickered with some deep emotion, but it was gone before I could read too much into it. ¡°Lord Seth, as a contracted soulbound who has been able to amass an astounding amount of soulpower, you may use your focus artifact to channel the energies of the Soulgate and guide them to greatly speed Sol¡¯s recovery.¡± ¡°Then why didn¡¯t you say so in the first place?¡± Sharinne seemed torn, but finally seemed to reach a decision. Her blood red eyes stared straight into mine as she straightened her shoulders and spoke with an unnerving calm, ¡°I will answer you, but before that I must first beg your forgiveness one more time.¡± ¡°Huh? What for now?¡± I frowned, puzzled. Frankly, I was getting tired of all the empty apologies. ¡°For this,¡± Sharinne breathed out, then she shouted with a sharp cry that nearly busted my ears. Even more insane, immediately after her whole figure suddenly combusted, and in mere moments became consumed by a terrifying inferno of bright, crimson flames. ¡°Huh,¡± I noted in my baffled shitless mind. ¡°Guess that¡¯s where the name for this place comes from.¡± And then, I simply stared in mute stupefaction. ¡°Mommy, FIRE!¡± Shia called out urgently. ¡°No shit you genius,¡± I scoffed, still staring. Oh, wait. ¡°No Mommy, SHOOOT!¡± Shia screamed shrilly. Holy crap, it couldn¡¯t be. *** Yeah, this is where I finally get to the part where I get to explain that I should never, ever open my dumb mouth and ask, ¡°Hey, what¡¯s the worst that could happen?¡± Why, you ask? Because, blast it all to hell, it had just happened. Here and now. What happened, you ask? A dragon happened, that¡¯s what. A massive freaking dragon with glittering scarlet scales, fully a hundred meters tall with massive wings that blotted out the stars above. God, just her head alone was the size of a freaking locomotive. Scarlet tongues of flame flickered out from the dragon¡¯s gigantic maw as it threw its head back and let out a blood-curdling roar that drove me back a couple paces and made the whole world quake. ¡°What the hell?¡± was all I could manage while struggling to lift my sweet little tactical nuke launcher, before the dragon turned its head down towards me and without any further ado, spat forth a veritable stream - I kid you not, it was so solid it was like an actual, tangible river - of incandescent flames so irresistibly hot it distorted the air around it while it howled on its way to incinerate me. Oh crap. I didn¡¯t even have time to bring my shiny little gun to bear, I was so shocked by the whole ordeal. It was all I could do to ditch the unwieldy pile of junk while I frantically dove to one side. Tumbling towards the ground, I managed to throw a glance towards the incoming torrent of flames I had just dodged, then almost spit out blood as I realized it wasn¡¯t over. Rivers are made of water, and water, of course, will splash. Guess what happens when a massive freaking torrent of red-hot flames hits a solid object? Yeah, said object promptly turns to mush. Stone explodes from the sudden heat, then melts into a pitiful looking puddle. Then it just helps the insane fires splash and spread about like it¡¯s really, truly a god damn river. Of course, said river was heading straight towards me. Shit had just hit the fan. Not only that. Holy hell, the shit had caught on fire. As I watched the terrifying flames merrily skipping their way towards me, absolutely imperious and unstoppable in their onslaught, I couldn''t help but comment dryly in the back corner of my sick, twisted mind. ¡°Hell, I didn¡¯t even get to fire my gun once.¡± Chapter 43 - Some things, you just never learn.. Chapter 43 -Some things, you just never learn.. The fire howled and bellowed like a thing alive as it swallowed everything in its path while coming after me. The sound was extremely disconcerting, as it lent a visceral feel to the whole experience that wouldn¡¯t really help in keeping a calm mind so as to make the right decisions and calls. That is not to say that it got to me. After all, I was a scarred veteran of countless battles. I had put my life on the line on a daily basis, until it had become second nature - like brushing my teeth or taking a piss. Not that hard to do, after a while, so long as you survive the admittedly harsh initiation period. It is a pretty damn harsh world out there, after all. Take for instance the first few times you watch someone next to you bite the dust. It¡¯s really a very unnatural experience, as your whole life the so-called civilized society tries to indoctrinate you on the sanctity of life and all that spew. Then the next thing you know, you get tossed headfirst into the world¡¯s least fun butcher house and your bunkmate¡¯s head gets blown clean off during his first engagement. Consequently, you¡¯re standing there staring stupidly at the blood gushing like a geiser from the severed neck of this living, breathing person who just now became a useless chunk of rotting meat. Welcome to the realization of your own mortality. Many crack right there and then. Others are all bravado and bluster, temporarily fooling themselves into thinking they¡¯re immortal. They¡¯re the protagonist of the story, after all. That works (sometimes too well, as many of these idiots simply become suicidal nitwits) right up until it doesn¡¯t, most often prompted by some close call or messy wound. That¡¯s all it takes for the crystal spire they¡¯d built up to come tumbling down. Then they collapse and we¡¯re back at square one. As for my present self, I even had the luxury to spit out an endless litany of curses as my body hurtled through the air and the smell of singed hair assaulted my nostrils. My eyes were working just fine, and I threw a quick glance towards the lethal wave of raging fire cresting over the exploding rock fragments and red hot magma in its mad rush to incinerate me. Making an instant judgment call as to how far the splashing tongues of flame would reach, I let my body figure out the rest of the landing sequence while my eyes focused on the real threat: Sharinne, or more accurately the gargantuan red dragon she had somehow transformed into in the blink of an eye while trying to barbeque me on the spot - without so much as a word of warning. And then people wonder why I harbor such deep personal trust issues. Well, lets go over the evidence laid out before us thus far. Exhibit A: Benevolent godlings attempt to trick me into serving up my soul as an aperitif. When that fails those evil soulsucking bastards just make me go through pretty much everything about my life I had done my damnest to forget. Exhibit B: Grateful relative of the child I pretty much risked my life AND soul to rescue thanks me for kind of succeeding (and restoring her messed up house, to boot) then turns into big, nasty dragon with no warning whatsoever, and is even now doing its damnest to turn me into a smoking pile of ashes. Need I keep going? Oh yeah, this all went through my head as I was still suspended in the air, in the middle of my desperate, last minute evasive dive. This was important to me, alright? Not only did it serve to further cement my constantly growing contempt towards the value of civility and trust in interpersonal relationships, but it also fueled the endless torrent of vicious expletives gushing from my mouth. Else, the frenzied fury scorching my own heart would probably burn me up before the damn dragon¡¯s flame even caught up to me. Why was I so upset? It wasn¡¯t really the fact that Sharinne was trying her damn best to kill me, and had as a matter of fact nearly succeeded. Hell, that¡¯s even how I met most of my friends for the first time. Kind of a sick initiation ritual of sorts before I take anyone seriously, if I think about it. Neither was it because she had just liquified my precious baby nuke launcher before I even had the time to get a single stinking shot off. Well.. Alright, fine. It is not completely due to that. And to be totally honest, I do enjoy a good scrap like few others ever would. I did technically just get done with slaughtering thousands upon thousands of hapless souls while trapped within the Labyrinth, but that hadn¡¯t even been that fun after the first few hundred or so. After that it had just turned into an aggravating chore on my quest to save Sol and slaughter the demons pulling the strings from behind the scenes. Like having to stop the car, step outside and wipe the windshield wiper every couple miles because of all the damn annoying bugs that stubbornly kept smashing themselves into bloody ichor against the glass. Get my drift? But no, none of the reasons above were truly the cause for all my rage and indignation. No, the biggest reason was that I was fairly certain this was some sort of idiotic test in Sharinne¡¯s mind. Else, why even bother speaking to me and put up the nice facade of cordiality and gratitude? Furthermore, I hadn¡¯t even felt a trace of killing intent until she actually lit herself on fire and transformed into that giant, raging behemoth. That is not to say she did not intend to kill me. Oh no. The raging, murderous vibe-meter had spiked through the roof as soon as things had gotten all heated up. What pissed me off to no end was the fact that this overgrown lizard that had looked just about ready to be sent out to the pasture or the nursing home mere moments ago had the freaking gall to try and test me. Me. What are you, freaking insane? Stupid? Retarded? I just got done single-handedly mopping up the nefarious, evil masterminds who had basically driven your kin to the edge of extinction without breaking a sweat and now that I saved your useless, pathetic, ungrateful little ass you have the freaking gall to try and TEST ME? Oh you great mother.. I am going to really, really f*ck you up now. Well, as soon as I haul my own ass out of the fire - in the most literal, personal sense. Finally done rummaging through my mental list of reasons I felt entirely justified in my overwhelming impulse to smash my opponent into a wet, squelching bag of amorphous flesh, I simply shoved it all out of the way as I realized none of that was truly relevant at all. I would kick this dragon¡¯s ass either way, simply because hey, how often do you really get to kick a dragon¡¯s ass? Not one to disappoint, my body did manage to figure out its own landing by itself. This left my mind - well, at least the part that wasn¡¯t throwing a fit because of this ungrateful lizard or hollering in ohmygodican¡¯tbelieveimmakickadragonsass euphoria - relatively free to start doing some serious planning. The first thing I did was turn my sloppy belly-flop of a landing into a smooth roll that saw me on my feet and running in an instant. I judiciously ignored the crackling, booming noises howling in my ears from behind as I rushed towards the dragon while making a mental inventory of the weapons I was carrying on my person just now.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. That task was finished depressingly fast, as I hadn¡¯t been bearing any type of weapon when I first came to my senses after exiting the final soul construct where I¡¯d faced off against the Ice Emperor, Xiao Ming. So, no armored exoskeleton, no sniper gauss rifle, no automatic machine gun, not even a paltry sidearm. Most definitely no mini-nuke launcher - not anymore at least, that gout of flame had seen to that. I really hadn''t taken the time to summon any other weapons because, well, I frankly just really, really wanted to shoot my nuke, dammit! So, all I¡¯d done was to strap on that big slab of steel - the blue flaming sword - I¡¯d conjured up before having the bright idea not to bring a knife to a gunfight. It felt decisively less impressive than my darling nuke launcher, but then again I felt it would suffice in the off-chance that anything tried to jump me before I had a chance to bring my big guns to bear. I¡¯d figured, fend them off with the big pointy stick, then gain some distance and ram a thermonuclear warhead up their ass. So much for that idea. Then again, I suppose you don¡¯t bring a gun to a dragon fight. Sighing in mournful resignation, reached over my shoulder to unsling the sword I had so casually summoned earlier. It was a hefty two-handed sword, double edged with a length just short of 4 feet ending in a nice, sharp point and a simple, utilitarian hilt. None of that silly gilded stuff for me. I expect my weapons to maim and kill, not to glitter and shine with gold and gems to look extra fancy. I had my ethereal blue flames for that. Indeed, as soon as my hands found the hilt and I hefted the sword in both hands eldritch fire that burned with a deep, blue hue roared into life with a satisfying WHOOSH! As I brought its weight to bear before my chest, I could feel the heat of it on my skin, and instinctively knew that were I not its wielder, I would have been scorched by the tenacious blaze. Heh, maybe the big pointy stick wasn¡¯t so bad after all. Perfect for cooking an overgrown lizard, medium rare. As my gaze roamed the dizzying length of the Dragon¡¯s girth until they met the dragon¡¯s own twin ruby eyes, I detected a hint of surprise flash through them when they saw just how freakishly fast I could move. Indeed, my sprint had taken me on a nice flanking move straight under the flaming blast and next toone of the dragon¡¯s folding wings. By the time her maw finally snapped shut and the useless stream of fire was cut off, I had already launched myself off the ground and begun to dart up the dragon¡¯s left hind leg in a gravity defying act. By the time I feltthe scales under my feet begin to shift as the dragon began to move, I had already reached the its knee. With a ferocious shout of my own, I gathered my own momentum to rocket off into the air while twisting my upper body so both my arms held the flaming blade behind me, almost brushing against my back. Seeming to almost instinctively sense what I was planning, Sharinne hurriedly tried to gather her wings into her body, but it was already far too late. With a furious cry, I unwound my body as my arms brought the sword swinging in a translucent arc of dazzling blue lights that smashed into the thin membrane of the dragon¡¯s wings but couldn¡¯t penetrate that far. The sizzling edge followed my body¡¯s upward motion and trailed a shower of sparks and blood behind me as I continued to soar up along the damn near-impenetrable wing. An ear-splitting howl of pain rumbled in the air but I ignored it as I grit my teeth and reached out with one of my hands to just barely grab hold of the top of Sharinne¡¯s wing. I used that hold as an anchor to push both feet against the scaly flesh, feeling like I¡¯d just kicked an iron plate. Still, it served my purpose just fine as used the force to smoothly flip myself up into the air above the dragon in another dizzying jump. By now the dragon¡¯s whole body had started to shift as it reflexively sought to protect its wound, but I had already predicted the motion and as I reached the apex of my arc in the air, I firmly grasped the hilt of the sword in both hands as I burst forth with all my pent up rage with a vigorous shout. ¡°OVERKILL!¡±
    Special Attack: Overkill Success!
    By harnessing all your power and explosively focusing it in a single blow, you are able to deal tremendous damage at the sacrifice of greatly increased stamina expenditure and leaving yourself vulnerable to a counter-attack! If you hit your target, you will score a critical hit!
    The sword in my hands seemed to sense my intent, and it responded in kind by flaring up with a massive sheet of semi-transparent force that materialized itself just beyond the point of my blade, easily doubling its reach. The whole length of it was coated in boiling flames that left a blinding trail of light asI brought the sword down in a mighty two-handed overhand smash fueled by every last iota of grim determination flaring up within my heart. BANG! As the white-hot edge of my sword violently exploded against the thick scales covering the top of Sharinne¡¯s wing, the force of the clash was enough to send me tumbling backward in the air in a blinding shower of blue flames mixed with bright crimson dragon blood. Another howl of agonyissued from the dragon¡¯s maw as it threw its head back and recoiled from the terrible blow amidst the smoking ruins of its ruptured flesh. On an instinctive level, most winged beasts will immediately attempt to take flight when their lives are threatened, and the hideous wound I¡¯d inflicted on Sharinne was enough to trigger such a reaction. However, as the sinewy flesh underneath the scaly skin rippled in an attempt to extend her wings, the side I¡¯d just struck down spasmed violently before finally collapsing altogether and hanging limply against her back. My heart roared in exultant celebration as I bared my teeth in a vicious, blood-flecked snarl. I threw one last contemptuous look towards the crippled giant before retracting my senses in order to take account of my trajectory as I soared through the air. Hmmph, that¡¯ll teach you to piss me off, you bitch! Amateurs always made the same mistake. They took it easy as soon as they gained what they perceived to be an unassailable upper hand against thosethey considered as weaker enemies. Huge rookie mistake! And that¡¯s all Sharinne, ancient dragon or not, was to my eyes. A rank amateur. Don¡¯t ever underestimate your foes, stupid! Camly taking stock of my situation, I estimated that I should be able to stop myself by latching onto one of the tall buildings that lined up the enormous plaza. With my magicked blade in hand, it should be simplicity itself to jam its burning edge into the stone, gradually breaking my fall. Of course, that¡¯s when three things went very, very wrong. First, I missed my swing. I gaped in stunned stupefaction as my stab towards the side of the building I¡¯d been aiming for somehow struck nothing but air and I sailed on by, hurtling towards the ground at bone-crushing speed. It took me a much longer time than I¡¯m comfortable admitting to finally stare dumbly down at my ¡°Invincible Sword of Eldritch Blue Flames¡± and figure out the reason why. Apparently, after the titanic clash against rock-hard dragon flesh, I would be forced to re-christen my blade as the ¡°Broken Sword of Tiny Sparks and Sputtering Smoke¡± instead. Indeed, the sword was a sorry looking affair of tangled steel and fluttering sparks that ended a good two and a half feetshort of where it should have been. Oh man, I don¡¯t think I even finished paying that off. Second, I found - and much to my dismay, let me assure you - that not all of the smoke stinging my eyes and burning my lungs came from the sputtering sparks of my totalled sword. As a matter of fact, it was not with a small amount of distress that I came to the sudden, flashing realization that I was the main culprit for all the mess. The deep crimson dragon blood caking nearly every inch of my body had begun to boil and sizzle, eventually combusting spontaneously while the wind howling through my ears only served to further fuel the hungry flames that began to eagerly lick at my tender flesh. Last, but certainly not least..
    WARNING!
    You detect tyrannically intense killing intent directed at you!
    No, really? I can''t possibly imagine why. That about sums up my thought process as I watched the berserk rage flooding a burning pair of ruby eyes grow larger and larger in my vision as their owner pounded furiously along the ground, thereby surging forward and drawing closer at a spectacularly alarming rate for a beast of that size - and with a maimed wing at that! - I belatedly realized I¡¯d just made the exact same mistake I¡¯d been ridiculing my opponent for. Oh crap. Don¡¯t ever underestimate your foes, stupid! When will I ever learn? The rest of my musings was rudely cut off short by the hideously conspicuous sound of a long intake of breath that seemed to suck all life and color from the world along with it. The dragon never even slowed down as it spread its maw wide straight in my direction as I flopped and flailed helplessly through the air and I had to wonder which would happen first. Would the big nasty dragon char-broil me with that terrifying breath of hellish flame, then snap up my smoking remains and gulp me down in a single serving? Or would I simply smash my brains into mush against the floor before grinding myself into a bloody paste as I skidded a hundred feet or so along the rocky ground. I mean, it¡¯s not like I¡¯m using it, anyhow. My brain, that is. And to think this had been my idea of fun. Oh yeah, here comes the dragon! Oh joy. Chapter 44 - Apex Predator Chapter 44 - Apex Predator So, apparently dragon blood will spontaneously combust upon contact with air. That¡¯s one thing I never learned from chemistry class, back in school. Goes to show yet another way in which the institution of public education had failed me. Let me tell you, there are few things more disconcerting than watching your own flesh catch on fire. I¡¯ve been fired at, fired on, and fired after, but very seldom have I actually been on fire. This, and the pesky little matter of finding an appropriate landing site while avoiding the dragon voraciously pouncing on my ass were just a few of the priorities in my life, for the time being. Had I been a knowledgeable mage, powerful knight or hell, dare I hope, maybe even the vaunted dragon slayer, I¡¯m sure I would have been better prepared for this task. However, for now I had to make do with the tools at hand, and that meant resorting back to what I was most familiar with. I estimated that I had less than 3 seconds left before either Sharinne spat another glob of fire and vaporized me in mid air, or I disintegrated against the ground with a world-rending impact. Well, rending for me. I¡¯m sure the world would keep on going just fine. That meant I had time to summon the power of my will for one thing, and one thing only. I needed to focus, but this is where we go back to just how disconcerting it is to actually be on fire. I could imagine a mage attempting to chant the complex arcane words of power needed to cast a spell, then failing miserably as they saw their flesh literally melting right off their bones as the eager flames licked at them. Of course, I was Seth the Godslayer. I was made of sterner stuff. Well, that and the fact that I suspected the broken sword I still held in my hands had some sort of enchantment that warded its wielder against the power of fire. My suspicions were proven correct as I felt the dying sparks of my sword had a direct correlation to the suddenly spiking heat of the flames coating every inch of my body. So, for the few extra seconds my enchanted sword could persist, I would be safe against the flames. Still, I couldn¡¯t help but squeeze my eyes shut as I summoned forth the extreme concentration needed to grasp the handle of that hammer of inexorable will in my mind and bring it down in a resounding blow against the roaring anvil of my raging heart. My bloodshot eyes popped open and sparks flew, dark motes of shadow flickering into life all around me, but were instantly extinguished as the dragonblood flames licked at my focus. It was getting hot in here! God damn stupid overgrown lizard and your twice be damned flaming stinking blood! ¡°Again!¡± I roared in my mind, and this time a veritable shower of sparks danced in the air as a semi-translucent sphere flickered momentarily around me before fading away. In its afterglow, I caught a glimpse of Sharinne¡¯s giant maw stretching open and her great expanding chest quivering slightly as though it were filled to capacity, just about ready to let forth with the next formidable stream of dragon flames. Notwithstanding the fact that whatever enchantment powered my sword seemed to be on its last dying breaths, there was simply no way in hell I would survive a point-blank blast of that fearsome dragon¡¯s fiery breath. It was time for a life-or-death gamble. I wasn¡¯t even sure if this was going to work or not. Aw, screw it. With a final roar of defiance, I reversed my grip on the broken sword, holding it above my shoulder and taking careful aim as though I were holding a lance, then I willed it into flaming life for one final time. Good old champ, it didn¡¯t quit on me and eager blue eldritch flames sprang into life along the length of the blade, with the shimmering energy blade jutting out of the broken portion of the sword into a razor sharp point. Without a second¡¯s hesitation, I threw the blade as hard as I could point first towards the tiniest window of opportunity I managed to spot right as Sharinne began to lower her head to burst forth with another dragon breath. ¡°Eat this, you bitch!¡± I cried, all righteous fury and indignation. Holy crap, it got hot without that enchanted sword. Whatever afterpower lingered, it was rapidly being consumed by the flames enveloping me. Thus, I had no time to track the flight of my projectile as I closed my eyes again to turn my focus inward and stubbornly brought down that metaphysical hammer of will crashing down against my soul one final time. BOOOM! With a blinding surge of static a shimmering sphere of light came into being around me, directly hovering over my skin and projecting itself outward as it effortlessly brushed off every last bit of that stinking dragon blood and delivering me from the pitiful fate of roasting alive in dragon juice. Holy crap, I can¡¯t believe this worked! I exulted, almost delirious in my joy. Powerful ripples shook the air around me as a dark metallic exo-skeleton began to materialize itself over my chest, spreading to my back, then over my extremities. It was over in an instant, but my skin shivered in the quiet afterglow. It was almost like sex, only better. ¡°Aetna, systems report,¡± I whispered, slowly flexing my fists and relishing in the familiar feel of cool burnished metal against my rough, calloused skin. ¡°Systems are initializing. Running diagnostics. All systems nominal. Please state your command,¡± came the suave, impassive voice - music to my ears. ¡°Engage flight mode,¡± I immediately instructed. ¡°Propulsion system, online. Thrusters at 100% efficiency. Inertial dampeners, engaged.¡± Twin blue-white jets of fire roared into life under me as my headlong tumble along the air came to a smooth stop. As I soundlessly hovered in midair, I basked in the nearly sexual ecstasy of operating one of the deadliest and most advanced military grade combat exoskeleton prototypes I¡¯d ever had the pleasure to experience. Oh yeah, this was more like it. I sported the toothiest, most wolfish grin I¡¯d worn for a long, long while as a cry of agony shook the heavens and sent visible ripples through the air. As I raised my head to meet Sharinne¡¯s gaze, only one ruby orb burned with some feral, primal instinct, as my sword-lance had flown true and embedded itself deeply within her other eye. A thick trail of blood and ichor flowed in rivulets over the dragon¡¯s face, and slowly it ignited into a guttering line of fire, giving the whole scene a freakishly surreal feel. ¡°C¡¯mon baby girl, this has only just started,¡± I cooed, as I casually lifted a finger and tapped a holographic display key hovering under my eager hands, instantly prompting a whole series of spine-tingling clicks and whirrs as various deadly contraptions of death and mayhem smoothly glided into place all around me. ¡°Combat mode activated, all weapons systems online. Target acquired. Please state your command,¡± came Aetna¡¯s crisp, cool voice as a semi-reflective visor slowly lowered itself over my eyes and several targeting holographic displays lit up my vision. For one endless moment, man faced off against dragon as their fighting wills clashed against one another, two monsters who stood at the apex of their respective worlds and dominated their own kind. No words were needed, for the embers burning deep within their eyes said it all. They would fight, not because of some pact, or promise, or test. No, that was far, far behind them now. This was not about some petty squabble or even about saving the world. It was an ancient ritual repeated endlessly throughout history. It was the inescapable fate of two tyrants, apex predators who ruled over their own domains, clashing against each other in order to defend their most prized possession in a final bid for supremacy: their pride. Or more simply put, it simply came down to two children who would smack each other silly until only one remained standing, just because it is what children are wont to do.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Let¡¯s get this party started,¡± I grinned with a hungry fire burning in my eyes. The massive dragon threw its head back and let out an earth-shaking roar, and I could hear both fury along with my own brand of insane ecstasy as it recognized another sovereign power and hungered for battle. As soon as the dragon began to lower its head back down, I noticed it hadn¡¯t bothered closing its maw. Sneaky, sneaky. But I wasn¡¯t born yesterday, you know? I immediately swerved to the side while lifting my right arm and lining it up with the glowing red dot in my sights while I called out, ¡°Switch to concussion grenades.¡± ¡°Concussion grenades, armed and ready.¡± I barely had time to squeeze the trigger when a scorching stream of fire just barely brushed past my shields on the side, and alarms began blaring as a soft, female voice notified me: ¡°Warning: Shield integrity at 85%.¡± Holy hell, I hadn¡¯t even taken that one straight on. This EM field should be able to withstand the barrage of a laser cannon on full blast at point blank range. That just went to show how devastatingly powerful that blast of fire really was. I¡¯d better not take that straight on or I¡¯d be toast. Of course, far from discouraging me, this only served to send further tingles of pleasure down my spine. This was more like it. No more wiping off insignificant bugs off my windshield for me, hell no. As the heatwaves from the dragon¡¯s breath began to dissipate, four individual trails of smoke drifted almost lazily through the sky. Sharinne glanced dismissively toward the incoming missiles, but her sole remaining eye suddenly flickered as though she¡¯d recalled some recent unpleasant and very painful experience. That¡¯s right, you better not look down on me anymore, you over-the-hill dinosaur. Sharinne displayed her surprising agility once more by leaping to her left and easily avoiding the projectiles, no mean feat for a giant of her size. Huge shards of shattered stone flew into the air as her massive claws found purchase on the ground while she slid a few dozen yards, leaving gaping furrows on the ground as though it were fresh concrete instead of hardy stone. Her expression seemed to be one of gloating superiority as she turned her gaze upon me once more, but her brows drew together as she read my own expression. I shrugged indifferently, then pushed my thrusters on full. Immediately, I jolted forward in a streak of light towards the dumb-founded dragon. Of course, why would I draw closer to this massive beast of death when I would obviously lose the advantage? ¡°Aetna, armour-piercing rounds,¡± I hummed. ¡°Armour-piercing ammunition, activated.¡± That¡¯s when the concussion grenades went off with an ear-splitting BANG and several blinding flashes of light. Though Sharinne had managed to move herself out of the way of the missiles, she was still well within the effective range of these kinetic blast weapons. After all, these weren¡¯t your run-of-the-mill grenades you bought at your discount military outlet store out in the woods. These were state of the art, prototype models designed for maximized efficiency and potency. The shielded visor protected my eyes from the worst of the blast as I leisurely lined up my shot. Hell, I didn¡¯t even need the targeting reticule. I could hardly miss a target the size of a small mountain, after all. I grit my teeth in a ferocious grin as I squeezed the trigger and the twin miniguns mounted underneath each of my arms began to spit thunder and lightning at a hair-rising speed. Gouts of blue-white flame flickered from the gun barrel as the cylinders whirred with a furious whine, painting countless lances of light as tracer rounds indicated where I was laying on the hurting. Sharinne howled in pain as she reflexively shut her eyes against the blinding glare of the grenades, but it was already too late. Meanwhile, my AP rounds wrecked havok along her chest as I trailed a merciless rain of bullets and blood up her torso and up towards her vulnerable neck. The depleted uranium armour piercing jackets were designed to pierce through fully armoured vehicles, and though the first few dozen might not have been able to crack through the mind-boggling resiliency of her scales, my gatling guns could easily pump out over 8,000 rounds per minute. That meant that in a mere second, over 130 razor sharp bullets had already smashed against her scales. The results were as expected, as diamond hard scales slowly bent, then ultimately shattered and vulnerable flesh lay in smoking, shredded ruins as I continued to rain hell upon my opponent. The dragon roared in impotent fury as she sought to escape by vaulting backwards, her sole working wing flapping wildly as she tried to increase the distance from my devastating barrage. Of course, that was well within my plans, and this is why I had gotten a headstart by rocketing my way forward, all the while laying down a withering storm of bullets. The dull yellow of spent shells rained like teardrops from the sky in an oddly fitting counterpart to the glittering rubies of dark dragon blood bursting into flame as they descended towards the broken earth below. Aware that her last attempt to avoid me had been foiled, Sharinne once again attempted to escape my terrible clutches by suddenly switching directions and vaulting off. As I continued to pursue her without letting up my relentless stream of gunfire, she finally had enough and turned her back completely to me, mindlessly attempting to escape her tormentor. That suited me just fine, as her front claws had already been guarding her most vulnerable neck and face, and I¡¯d been reduced to pulping the flesh of her foreclaws. Now that she¡¯d turned her back on me, I would switch targets to her sole functioning wing, crippling it before she could recover the other and thus ending my air superiority. "Aetna, arm hellbuster missiles," I shouted, really into it now. "Hellion ballistic superiority missile system, activated." The Hellion missiles, or more fondly known as Hellbusters, were nightmares that could penetrate the thickest armor plating and spread a focused detonation that would liquefy anything and everything protected within. I really wanted to see what Sharinne''s reaction would be when I literally tore her a new one. However, gloating turned to panic when I saw a massive blur of frenzied motion out of the corner of my eye, and I almost wanted to smack myself on the head. ¡°Boost shields to maximum!¡± I cried out urgently while burning my thrusters at full, but it was too little, too late. "Rerouting power to shi.." I never quite got to hear the rest of that.Sharinne must have been able to roughly estimate my position by those couple leaps she took and the angle of fire, since by all rights she should still be blind and deaf. Even in that wretched state, I had to give her credit as she still managed to turn around and lure me in while her massive tail emerged like an avenging angel out of nowhere, and smashed against my shields with a bone-jarring impact that simply blasted the world out of existence for the next couple seconds or so. EM fields were not designed for maximized kinetic impact resistance. Rather, they dealt mainly with energy-type weapons and the odd impact explosion here and there. A direct hit from a mortar round was nothing compared to the mass of several hundred tons of berserk dragon tail accelerated to eye-popping speeds. My shields roared in protest and actually bent at the point of impact, then shattered at the last moment as sparks flew everywhere and small explosions rocked my exo-skeleton. My figure was flung headlong through the air at astonishing speeds, and it was only dumb luck that didn¡¯t see me splattered against the side of one of the buildings rising up against the sky. Aetna''s voice filled my ears as warnings repeadly rang in my head, and several windows popped up in the holographic display.
    Warning!
    Shield has been compromised. Re-routing power to initialize emergency shield generator.
    Warning!
    Advise execution of emergency landing protocols.
    I know, I know, dammit. Just as I was about to get to that, I swear, my dumb luck finally ran out and I found myself staring at a massive building starkly outlined against the sky growing larger and larger in my vision at an alarming rate. ¡°And shit hits the fa..¡± was as far as I got as I mashed the thruster controls, with wretched results: a brief sputtering before it belched some smoke and died off altogether. Fortunately, just as I was about to pancake myself against the solid granite, a thick sphere of shimmering blue light sprang to life around me.
    Warning!
    Emergency shield, active. Advise extreme caution while main shield generator is re-initialized.
    That final window crackled and popped, then disappeared altogether as I bodily rammed into the building, sending exploding fragments of rock and other debris all over the air. Like a human cannonball, I smashed through several walls in a dizzying blur of motion while the protesting whine of my overstressed shields once again crackled in my ears. After crashing through the entire width of the building and barely managing to stretch out a hand as the last of the collision¡¯s momentum dragged me along the floor and towards the deadly drop below, I blindly grasp an edge and held on for dear life. By the time I was finally wrenched into a stop, I found myself barely hanging on from a ledge with a ten-story drop below me. Holy crap, that woman had a mean rear hook. A titanic roar of relentless fury drowned out that thought as the dragon loudly announced that she was ready for round two. ¡°Aetna, status report,¡± I wheezed. All the answer I got were a few buzzing crackles of static, before my holographic display abruptly died. ¡°Typical,¡± I muttered. ¡°Always have to do things the hard way.¡± Panting raggedly, I ignored the tearing pain in my limbs as I tried to move my other arm to climb over the ledge, but controls were non-responsive and I slowly felt myself sliding down, losing grip. ¡°Alright you bitch, I¡¯ll give you your round two,¡± I growed, while reaching for the exo-skeleton''s emergency release button. And you know, after all this, I can¡¯t say I was surprised to find a crazy grin plastered all over my blood-splattered face. ¡®Cause, you know, this was just starting to get fun. Chapter 45 - The Sin of Innocence Chapter 45 - The Sin of Innocence Wiping away a tendril of blood that had slowly begun to slide down my chin, I pondered at the fact that nothing is ever easy, nor is there such a thing as a free lunch in this world. ¡°Mommy, stop trying to force it. Even though you have enough soul energy, I don¡¯t think we can handle that much power within this short a period of time. You will only hurt yourself,¡± came Shia¡¯s anxious plea. Sighing bitterly, I nodded my agreement. I could feel that there was still a vast reservoir of power lying just beyond my reach. It was like holding a scalding cup of coffee that was simply too hot for anything but a few tentative sips. That didn¡¯t mean the smell wouldn¡¯t kill you in the meantime. Still, that didn¡¯t mean I was helpless. Sure, perhaps I had overdrafted my soul power in order to summon Aetna into this world, but it¡¯d been worth it. From my 10th story perch up on the building where I¡¯d crashed, I could easily spot the massive figure of my foe even from this distance. She was still roaring in impotent fury as she tried in vain to clear her vision. This would have been the perfect time to attack while she still lay vulnerable. However, I¡¯d blown that particular play by once again underestimating her and going just a little too trigger happy. No matter, I grunted to myself. Regrets were for losers. I only had eyes for the grim fight ahead. ¡°Shia,¡± I called out, glancing towards the wrecked ruins of Aetna with a slightly melancholic air. ¡°Can you give me a detailed layout of this section of the city?¡± ¡°On it, Mommy,¡± came the instant reply. ¡°Are we digging some surprises for the dragon lady?¡± I nodded grimly, crouching before the out-of-commission exo-skeleton. Damn, 25 billion credits worth of fancy next generation tech smashed into junk metal in the blink of an eye by the elongated ass of an overgrown reptile. I couldn¡¯t help but feel more than a little guilty. Ah, you deserved much better, Aetna. My adoptive book-daughter broke me out of my somber mood. ¡°Umm, I don¡¯t think Sharinne¡¯s a bad person,¡± she mumbled, rather tentatively. ¡°Her left eye is a complete loss, over 32% of her body has sustained heavy injuries, and her right wing has been crippled.¡± I furrowed my brow at her tone while I rolled up my sleeves and began to pull at a compartment hidden within the metal chasis of the exo-skeleton. ¡°Your point being?¡± ¡°I think you¡¯re bullying the poor dragon lady, Mommy!¡± Shia blurted out. The heck? I gaped in astonished indignation for a long moment before grumbling under my breath, even as I continued to pull at the hatch. Damn thing was stuck! ¡°Have you even seen how huge that damn lizard is?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen how terribly hurt she is,¡± Shia countered. ¡°She¡¯s just trying to protect Sol!¡± I spat a few imprecations, then stood up and began to violently kick the offending compartment, defending myself in between each blow. ¡°I..¡± BANG! ¡°Don¡¯t..¡± BANG! ¡°Give..¡± BANG! ¡°A damn!¡± CRASH! With a final shriek of twisted metal, the panel finally fell off its hinge. I promptly reached inside and withdrew the emergency landing survival package meant for pilots stranded behind enemy lines. Casually flicking aside a medium range pulse rifle, a grenade belt, and other inconsequential knicks and knacks, I finally got to the real heavy hitters: a miniature arclight cutter, a small silver key, and a hefty book. ¡°Oh you little bitch, you are finished now,¡± I crooned fervently. After all, I hadn''t known whether it would really be here. ¡°Mommy! You¡¯re being so mean!¡± Shia choked. ¡°Here,¡± I grumbled, holding up the book. ¡°Make yourself useful and eat this thing.¡± ¡°Not until Mommy promises not to bully the poor dragon lady anymore!¡± came Shia¡¯s adamant reply. What the hell? How in the world did she figure that? That ¡°poor dragon lady¡± had just casually flicked her tail and wrecked one of the deadliest war machines invented by mankind. Hell, she could casually spit out a river of fire. I¡¯d emptied thousands of rounds at her point blank and she was just ¡°hurt¡±. She could probably sneeze on me and if I just stood there like a fool and took it I¡¯d get a brain aneurysm from the sheer wind pressure alone. So now it was me bullying the dragon lady? Again, for emphasis: I am bullying the dragon lady. Feeling a glorious headache about to split my temples any moment now, I squeezed my eyes shut and muttered, ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll only hit her one more time. Happy now?¡± ¡°Really?¡± Shia¡¯s voice sounded completely taken aback. ¡°You will?¡± ¡°Yes, fine. Now stop being a brat and eat this thing,¡± I snapped, shaking the book back and forth in the air. ¡°Pinky promise?¡± she asked, still disbelieving. ¡°Yes, yes. Pinky.. Agh, whatever. Yes,¡± I moaned. Oh, my dignity. My pride. How far the mighty have fallen. I mourned the loss of my image as the dreaded conqueror of a hundred battles. ¡°So eat. Now.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Okay! Yay, Mommy is the best!¡± Shia chirped delightedly, and the book in my hand vanished as though by magic. Which of course, is exactly what it was. ¡°Shia, can you estimate the time it will take before the dragon is combat ready?¡± I murmured, placing the arclight cutter between my teeth and climbing on top of the exo-skeleton which was still precariously hanging over a 40 meter drop. ¡°There is insufficient data and you know I hat-¡± I rolled my eyes slightly while I hooked my legs through a metal bar, hanging upside down and retrieving the arclight cutter from my mouth. ¡°I know you ¡®hate speculating¡¯, but humor me anyway,¡± I cut her off, mimicking her prim tone while brilliant sparks began to illuminate my face as I began cutting away. ¡°You meanie! Hmmph! You¡¯re lucky Shia¡¯s a good child. Judging by my analysis of the dragon¡¯s reaction thus far and the intensity of the glare, I would say around 10 to 15 minutes, maybe less.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not very helpful,¡± I complained, then hissed as a few sparks landed on my hand. ¡°Take what you can get, Mommy,¡± Shia replied indifferently. ¡°Here, find the schematic for this part,¡± I called out in an overtly casual manner while tapping the smooth metal surface I was cutting away at. ¡°Display it for me while you¡¯re at it.¡± A mere instant later, a 3D representation of the device in question smoothly popped up in front of me. Shia¡¯s impressive abilities still caught me off-guard from time to time. Hell, she had even faithfully reproduced the words printed along this particular part, ¡°Hellion missile propulsion system¡±. Thankfully, for all her incredible computing powers, she was still too distracted by our discussion to truly digest all the information she had just ingested from that book. ¡°In any case darling, I highly doubt the berserking dragon will obediently stop and sit still after I give it a light lovetap on the head,¡± I offered, as another furious roar shook the building around us right on cue, as if to accentuate my words. Perfect timing, I thought to myself while tapping lightly on the next portion of the device and waiting expectantly. ¡°She is just hurt and scared,¡± Shia whispered, while processing the information I needed in an instant. She even mumbled worriedly to herself as she off-handedly retrieved the information I needed and visually rendered the next highly complex device in real time while thinking nothing of it at all. ¡°Tell her to join the club,¡± I snorted. ¡°Mommy! Stop trying to make things worse!¡± she cried, then continued on a more pensive note. ¡°You know, maybe I can figure out a way to neutralize her powers-¡± ¡°Rejected,¡± I flatly refused. ¡°Wha.. why?¡± Shia spluttered. ¡°Where¡¯s the fun in that?¡± I grinned, then cursed as more sparks landed on my hand. ¡°Who¡¯s the brat now?¡± she pointed out gloatingly. I didn¡¯t bother to reply as I focused on my task and numerous plates and bars of metal flew away, discarded. Finally content, I once again placed the arclight cutter between my teeth while I reached in blindly with one hand. ¡°Are you trying to repair your new toy, Mommy?¡± came Shia¡¯s halting question. By her tone, I could tell she regarded that possibility as a dubious proposition, at best. ¡°Back in the old days, when resources were still scarce and everyone was scrambling on their butts to try and get their hands on the few high impact weapons still left,¡± I patiently explained while still fumbling around with my hand. There, that was the switch. Flip it, turn it around to seal the deal. There, done! ¡°One of the most ingenious ways to get your hands on a shiny new bomb was to scavenge one right off the enemy pilot you¡¯d just aced. That¡¯s exactly what I¡¯m doing right now - scavenging like the best.¡± I calmly withdrew my hand, which was now holding a warhead roughly the size of a grapefruit. ¡°Mommy, what is that?¡± Shia asked, a hint of alarm in her tone. ¡°Hmm? This?¡± I hefted the warhead while grinning like a silly kid on Christmas morning. ¡°It¡¯s called the Hellion ballistic superiority missile, minus the missile part, since I just removed it.¡± ¡°Ah, I can¡¯t tell what it¡¯s made of, but it feels cold and at the same time, hot. Too hot, like the dragon lady¡¯s fire, only smaller but just as scary,¡± Shia commented, and I could hear the shudder in her voice. ¡°Eheheh, something like that,¡± I chortled, then casually tossed the warhead towards the ledge. I¡¯d disarmed it so I didn¡¯t really care. ¡°One down, three to go.¡± ¡°Three more?¡± Shia repeated, scandalized. ¡°Well, actually, three more like this one, and then a nice, big fat baby one. But that¡¯s it.¡± ¡°What? Mommy, you promised!¡± ¡°Yup, I did. And I keep my promises,¡± I murmured, but I just couldn¡¯t hide the devious grin spreading itself across my face. ¡°Just one little hit, hardly a nudge, really.¡± ¡°Uh-huh,¡± my darling daughter muttered with a disbelieving snort. ¡°Ayep, more like a little lovetap,¡± I added, then finished in the same breath. ¡°Oh, by the way honey, would you mind looking over that book I just gave you and finding page 132, subsection a?¡± ¡°Oh, hmm.. Let¡¯s see. The section that reads ¡®Activation Protocols for Thermonuclear WMD¡¯, that one?¡± ¡°Hehehe.¡± ¡°Mommy?¡± ¡°Oh, hah. I mean, yes. That one,¡± I nodded vigorously. Ah, how sweet the innocence of the young is. ¡°Mommy! It reads here that this protocol is only to be followed under direct orders from the Director General of the World Council or the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, punishable to the fullest extent of the law for crimes against humanity!¡± Shia protested in shocked alarm. Ooops! ¡°Ah, yes. About that, do.. Do you remember those dishes I cooked for Sol and Reaver, way back then? It''s something like that, just a hyperbole.¡± I stammered, grasping at straws. ¡°Really? Oh, crimes against humanity. I see, yeah, I guess you did a lot of cooking back in your day. That can definitely be called a crime against humanity,¡± Shia agreed wholeheartedly. I winced at the remark but took it like a champ. Damn it, it really didn¡¯t taste that bad! ¡°Ugh, just shut up and read me those codes,¡± I grumbled. At least that helped me get over the guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach as Shia began to recite the procedures in order to arm the thermonuclear warhead. It was the crime of being so young and pure. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Shia,¡± I whisperedquietly to myself. ¡°It will be over in a flash.¡± ¡°..Echo bravo foxtrot..Huh? What was that, Mommy?¡± came Shia¡¯s voice. ¡°Nothing honey, you just keep going.¡± ¡°You know Mommy, I¡¯m really glad that I finally get to help you!¡± Shia giggled. Ugh, alright. That one hurt.
    Congratulations! You''ve unlocked a new title: "Heartless Bastard"!
    New Title Earned: ¡°Heartless Bastard¡± Though evil has existed since time immemorial, few can truly lay claim to the title of the most dastardly, conniving, corrupt, malevolent, nefarious, vile, villainous, wicked and truly wretched living being upon the face of the world. Congratulations, by ruthlessly manipulating your own innocent offspring¡¯s pure heart, you have convincingly earned yourself this dubious honor as the true ultimate ¡°Heartless Bastard¡±. Will +5 Stamina +1 Strength +1 Intelligence +1 Wisdom +1 Charisma -5
    Ah, the sweet sin of innocence. Chapter 46 - A Lesson That Must be Learned Chapter 46 - A Lesson That Must Be Learned Turns out Shia¡¯s ¡°speculations¡± were right on the money, as no sooner had 12 minutes passed than the dragon finally released a final roar towards the skies before opening that single glittering eye straight in the direction where the late Aetna lay abandoned in a sad, lonely heap. Fortunately, this place was a true urban jungle, full with gigantic buildings that rose up into the sky, some a good three hundred meters tall or more. I have no idea how they managed to complete such a massive undertaking without the aid of modern machinery and when there was not a single soul in sight, but I had to admit it was damn impressive. Then again, it was also slightly hysterical as Shia playfully showed me a short animated movie where countless caricature versions of the mighty dragon currently stalking us stood up on two feet and were dressed in the humble cotton tunics a day laborer in that miserable shanty where I¡¯d found Sol might wear for work. The poor dragon workers sweated rocks as they huffed and puffed while laboriously stacking brick after colossal brick in order to build a tower that looked much like the one we were currently hiding in. Not a bad start for Shia Productions, if I do say so myself. In any case, the humor had died all too quickly when the earth began to shake and rumble with every cautious step Sharinne took into the city. I wondered that she wasn¡¯t taking a slash-and-burn approach about this, since that¡¯s what I would do. If I were in her shoes, I would be loathe to approach recklessly for fear of falling under yet another hail of violent gunfire, yet also even more reluctant to bid my time since I knew full well the freakish destructive force a whip of the dragon¡¯s tail could deliver at full power. She must know just how grave a blow she had dealt to me, and would be anxious to finish me off. That fell in line with the fact that Sharinne had been blind and helpless for over 10 minutes, yet no counter-attack had been forthcoming. I think by now she knew me well enough that there was no way in hell she would think I had even the smallest chivalrous bone in my whole body. No, we both recognized enough of ourselves in the other to know that we were both merciless predators who would close in for the kill without a second¡¯s hesitation once an opening was shown. Thus, she needed to finish me off before I recovered enough to become a threat again. However, who knew what this devious little human had in store for her within this maze of shadows and stone? Yeah, that particular thought would keep me warm through the night for many, many moons to come. It was a work of art, really. Precision killing at its best, with just a pinch of Seth the Godslayer added for a flair. Just a touch, no more. ¡°You¡¯re fantasizing about the big boom you¡¯re about to make again, aren¡¯t you?¡± came Shia¡¯s peevish voice right next to my ear. ¡°Was not!¡± I coughed violently, then squared my shoulders and adopted a proper victimized expression. ¡°I was just thinking about what to do when we finally see Sol and Reaver again.¡± Shia¡¯s derisive snort was all the reply that deserved. Well, I mean, c¡¯mon. Four Hellion warheads, that was enough to flatten 4 city blocks without dropping a sweat! And that was just the explosive blast damage. The true reason why they were known as Hellbusters was because upon ignition, each warhead would separate into four different cores, each of which would begin a separate plasma meltdown reaction that would liquefy pretty much anything in its way: Reinforced titanium alloy, EM fields, reinforced ferrocrete blast barriers, etc. Everything would turn into a nice, uniform puddle of melted steel, rock and.. ¡°Mommy, you¡¯re doing it again. Focus!¡± came the urgent call. Blinking my eyes repeatedly, I cleared my throat to hide my discomfort. I hadn¡¯t realized just how much I¡¯d missed modern weaponry. Really missed it, that is. In fact, I hadn¡¯t even minded the freaking chore that it had been to set them all up. Keep in mind that I had to lug all four warheads, each weighing at least 15 kilos. With no better options, I¡¯d simply tied them together into one big bundle before literally jumping down floor to floor for lack of time in order to set them up within the limited window of opportunity I had left. Then rushing back up to prepare the rest of the stuff. Even with Shia showing me the way, I had cut it way too close. Still, with rivers of sweat running down my back, I was a happy man. Oh yeah, just thinking about that baby nuke.. ¡°Mommy!¡± ¡°Ahem. I¡¯m here. Stop being such a control freak or you¡¯ll turn out just like your..¡± I trailed off as I heard the words that I¡¯d been about to speak, and a brutal fist rose out of my chest to strangle my throat and yank it down into my stomach as I fell back against the wall behind me with a hollow thump. ¡°Mommy? Are you alright?¡± I sighed bitterly, then slowly shook my head. ¡°Not really, but it doesn¡¯t really matter. Let¡¯s finish this,¡± I responded, and all the earlier joy and excitement was gone, snuffed out just like that. *** Dragons must have the worst self-preservation instincts in the world, whether because they¡¯re just not used to being threatened, or maybe Shia had been right and I¡¯d just bullied this poor creature to the edge of perdition. Hell, maybe it finally let its guard down when it saw the smashed up exo-skeleton I¡¯d left hanging for it to see right as it had begun to stalk me. For whichever reason it was, Sharinne never even realized I was there until I popped my first grenade. It was a relatively pitiful affair: an insignificant puff of fire and smoke that actually hit its intended target before it exploded upon impact. Hell, I had never expected that clumsy throw to actually hit, I simply wanted to get the dragon¡¯s attention. Well, now that I¡¯d scorched a dark, sooty ring on the scales along the back of her neck where the grenade had gone off, I had effectively accomplished the same purpose. All the same, I did feel a little cheated. Maybe I should have just tossed the whole belt? Then again, upon a passing inspection of the blast¡¯s damage, or lack thereof, I nodded judiciously to myself as I instantly jumped off the roof and onto a nearby ledge. Quite obligingly, Sharinne left no doubt whatsoever as to the fact that I had, in fact, managed to garner all of her undivided attention by promptly swinging her tail against the roof I¡¯d just vacated. A shockingly loud explosion and a flurry of shattered rocks later, the top two floors of the building where I¡¯d been standing were simply gone, just like that. I hefted the rifle I held under my arm, but at this kind of range I¡¯d be lucky to hit her at all. Still, I needed to generate some pressure or Sharinne would never go along with my plan. Thus, I dutifully peppered her with a few bursts of gunfire, which predictably enough upon impact twanged and twinged, then skimmed harmlessly off her scales. Still, those had come dangerously close to her face, and with only one eye remaining, Sharinne made a point not to point that big ugly snout of hers at me again, obviously fearful that I¡¯d take another potshot and leave her on the welfare list for disabled dragons for life. Which I would do happily enough, but there was fat chance that would be happening. At this range, with this skimpy gun, I¡¯d be lucky to hit her face, let alone aim for that one eye she guarded like, you know, the only eye she had left. ¡°Shia, change route to course D, optimize for highest descending waypoints on the way to objective,¡± I snarled, realizing I¡¯d been underestimating the sheer blinding speed of her tail once again. Indeed, no sooner had Shia finished complying with my request, lining up a new course along the rooftops I¡¯d scouted out before hand, I spotted a massive shadow making the wind howl in my ears as it streaked towards the rooftop I was dashing across. ¡°Damn you, got a long stinking ass, woman,¡± I growled, while launching myself off the edge a couple steps too early to make a comfortable landing on the other side. After all, time was not a luxury I could afford, as another rooftop crumbled under the violent lash of the dragon¡¯s tail like a tower made out of crackers smashed into oblivion by an iron freaking morningstar. Alright, I¡¯d envisioned this going a lot more smoothly than this. So sue me. ¡°Mommy, watch out!¡± Shia cried out in panic, and I didn¡¯t even bother to turn around as I simply dove into the closest escape route, which happened to be a hole in the middle of the rooftop, which I assumed served as a skylight. Then it was time for another bone-wrenching explosion of rocks and timber as another floor or two were instantly pulverized, and I scrambled to my feet after executing a perfect roll that would leave bruises for weeks. Immediately upon regaining my feet, I loudly announced the direction I was fleeing in by ricocheting another handful of rubber duckie bullets from my useless gun against the impenetrable scales, for all the good they did. I finally decided enough was enough, and just dumped the useless stupid gun before diving through a wide balcony, and barely managing to catch myself on the edge of the adjacent building. The dragon, experienced hunter that it was, could feel the chase was nearing its end, and could practically taste the blood in the air as it roared in exultation, before promptly turning its back on me once more and whipping that god damn tail at me again. I get it, it is the safest way to punish me for being a tiny, insignificant little ant who can only really hope to inflict damage by shooting at vulnerable body parts such as the eyes. However, you great flaming bitch, shouldn¡¯t you be asking what I¡¯d done with all that prodigious amount of heat I¡¯d been packing not 15 minutes ago?If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Little did it know, the moment I¡¯d scrambled up the edge and dashed inside this building, I had immediately jumped right on out of that deathtrap through a hole in the wall on the opposite side that I had prepared ahead of time using the rest of my precious grenades. It would be very difficult, if not impossible, to spot from the dragon¡¯s perspective. Before leaving, however, I did not neglect to throw a cheeky salute to the Hellbuster warhead I¡¯d rigged up against the ceiling to detonate upon impact. As I tumbled my painful way down the long incline of the roof of the house lying on the other side of the hole, I panted harshly to my guide. ¡°Time!¡± ¡°34.4 seconds!¡± Not bad if all of this took 34.4 seconds, which was admittedly a good deal faster than the safe 40 second margin I¡¯d given myself for the maneuver. Hey, I¡¯m a do-it kind of guy, always strong in the execution. There was a distinct reason why I¡¯d timed everything so closely. By this point, I had learned two extremely painful lessons on not underestimating my foe, and you bet your ass the dragon had as well. I simply had no way to herd it towards a trap, as I simply lacked the mobile firepower to do so. Guerrilla tactics could be counted out for the same reason. Therefore, the only viable option remaining by process of elimination had been to let the big greedy dragon¡¯s razor sharp claws come so stinking close to nipping my neck clean off that it would be nearly impossible for it to stop and think clearly about a possible trap. Plus, the fact that my poor wretched Aetna had been abandoned just like that. It probably knew better than I myself did that summoning such a humongous artifact had cost me dearly, and that could only further increase the dragon¡¯s urgency to hunt me down. After all, if I regained the ability to summon another Aetna, I could simply rain death and mayhem from a safe height above and just crush her like a bug. Which would be depressingly boring. Again, I¡¯d had enough of wiping bugs off my windshield. Now this, I reflected as I reached the end of the long slanted roof and deftly landed on the private courtyard of a nearby building that lay a presumably safe distance away from the soon to come blast, this was fun as freaking hell. Hah, I even had a full second to spare! As it was, I had plenty of time to dive under the reinforced arch of a nearby atrium and curled myself up in a fetal position while flipping up both middle fingers in the dumb freaking lizard¡¯s general direction, regardless of the fact that it obviously couldn¡¯t appreciate the gesture at all through several massive walls of granite. I instantly regretted it, of course, as I nearly busted my eardrums when the Hellbuster warhead I¡¯d armed and rigged on that particular ceiling went off exactly as I¡¯d planned. I could almost picture the shock and horror on that dumb lizard¡¯s face as it did its ¡°SMAAASH¡± routine and got a full serving of plasmic freaking meltdown rammed up its ass! Hey, now there was a worthy next project for the very promising Shia Productions studio. Still, even as excited as I was I really should have known better and covered my ears before the blast instead of flipping off the dumb reptile when it couldn¡¯t even see me. As it was, a deafening ringing filled my ears, and I had to stumble a couple times before I could climb to my unsteady feet. ¡°C¡¯mon Mommy, you gotta move! Just a little further!¡± Shia urged me on. Not for the first time, I really, truly wished I could give Shia a flesh and blood body, then throw her inside an industrial washing machine and run it on heavily soiled for a few hours just so she would know what it feels like to have your insides violently churned out onto your outsides. ¡°Try.. trying..¡± I grunted, as I tottered forward and out into the street with what must have been a dazed look that begged someone, anyone to put me out of my misery. That¡¯s when, predictably enough, I bumped up against the dragon. Not physically, of course, since we still stood a good 100 meters from each other. But given the sheer mass of the beast, you can understand why I couldn¡¯t help but freeze there, all goggled eyed. I felt as though I were watching one of those old silent movies, where there was an absolutely unnerving absence of sound while my horrified eyes watched a one hundred meter tall behemoth convulsing in obvious agony while staring at the ragged stump that was all that remained of its once formidable tail. Crimson blood gushed forth like a fountain, caking every inch of the street around the dragon. I snapped back to my senses and judiciously stepped backwards to avoid the great shower of red as it slowly began to smoke, then ignite, bathing the whole savage scene in a hellishly macabre red glow. The flaming pieces of smoking flesh and shattered debris were still raining down all around me, and a tiny pebble-sized piece actually bounced off my forehead as though to say, ¡°Duh, what are you waiting for stupid?¡± Right. It was right around this point that I realized I really shouldn¡¯t be standing here twiddling my thumbs, and would you believe it? Coincidentally enough, as I slowly raised my gaze up to find that sole glittering ruby staring back at me with absolutely murderous fury literally blazing from it, I realized the dragon had the exact same epiphany at roughly the exact same time. I found it almost funny, but apparently the dragon most definitely did not share my good humor. We both cried out at the same time, me with a startled shout as I finally managed to shock my numb, quivering legs into movement once again; and the dragon as it swore bloody vengeance against me regardless of the cost. True enough, all considerations of guarding that precious last eye flew straight out of the window in a fit of true draconic rage as I heard the sharp intake of breath that meant an unstoppable deluge of flame and ashes was coming right up, whether I was ready for it or not. I barely managed to scramble around the corner of the building behind me and dive towards the relative safety of a nearby bench when I felt more than heard that unmistakable roar of roiling fire crashing against smooth granite right around the bend and finding the stone surface far, far too wanting as it began to crumble and melt. Remembering how viciously tenacious that river of flames was as it splashed its merry way to incinerate indiscriminately, I promptly rolled forward and sprang to my feet in a true heroic sprint as I sped off towards the distance, past caring about the damned map that flashed insistently out of the corner of my vision. It was well that at least one of us kept her head on her shoulders screwed on tight, as I almost missed my turn when the ominous shadow of the great avenging dragon rose up from behind me and blotted out the moon in its relentless pursuit to exact its gory, sadistic vengeance. ¡°Left, Mommy! LEFT!¡± Shia shouted desperately, and thank god I could communicate with her mentally, because I was still mostly deaf in both ears. Turning so abruptly that I actually skidded a couple feet before dashing into the side alley Shia had pointed out, I reminded myself that at least I wouldn¡¯t need to worry about one of the most stressful aspects of the whole plan: I had no way to know whether I would be able to successfully lure the clever dragoness into my little lizard trap. The rhythmic tremors that jolted my every step let me know very clearly that I had once again exceeded all expectations, as the blood-thirsty mountain of claws and fire was veritably pouncing along the ground in its unquenchable thirst for my blood. As the blood-splattered figure of the great dragon finally rounded the last corner, it seemed taken aback at the fact that I simply stood there, barely 200 meters away from it. I even had the gall to raise a hand and wave at it with my happiest grin of the whole night as I used my other hand to trigger the remote detonation device. A deafening - or at least, I must assume it would be, were I able to hear anything other than a vague ringing tone - roar made the dragon shudder in surprise as it wheeled its great head around, just in time to see a huge fireball rise into the sky from a massive building at its back, well over 300 meters tall and almost as wide. The explosion produced a huge shockwave that flung myriads of shards of shraphnel in the way of flaming debris but they merely bounced off harmlessly against the tough dragon scales. At last, with a heavy groan, the whole building began to collapse as its whole foundation was effectively liquified. Shia had been instrumental in calculating the exact position for the bomb to maximize the chances to collapse the building in my direction, which was vital for my plan. Sharinne was certainly shocked by the power of the explosion, but even wounded as she was, she easily avoided the falling building by tumbling in my direction, then shielding her vulnerable head from any further debris under her mighty wing and paws. Which suited me just fine, as I had turned around and begun to hightail it out of that place as fast as I possibly could, and with my soul-enhanced self I could run so fast even a dragon would - and did, as you will remember from when I crippled Sharinne¡¯s wing - simply stare in stunned awe. Not that she would see anything, as a thick curtain of dust soon blanketed the whole area in nothing but dim shadows and dirt. Not bothered in the slightest by the sudden darkness, thanks to the handy mini-screen hovering next to my head which displayed a grainy but otherwise perfectly clear image of the road ahead, I once again beat my own expectations. Very handily, at that, as by the time I reached the bright, blinking red line superimposed upon my vision by Shia, the timer under that line still had a good 5 seconds to go. Not one to rest on my laurels, I promptly sought refuge behind a thick wall I¡¯d spotted beforehand for this very purpose, and this time made a point of flipping the bird in the general direction of the big, dumb reptile before carefully plugging my ears with both hands. The earth rumbled as two more explosions rocked the world, nearly throwing me off my feet as the very ground seemed to ondulate in crazy waves that rippled outward from the alley I¡¯d just exited. More dust made it impossible to see anything, but I could see dim shapes flickering across my vision at impossible speeds - likely more flaming debris, only these had been the size of a freaking car. That last explosion had triggered the final two Hellbuster warheads, each placed strategically in the buildings adjacent to the dragon¡¯s assumed position so as to form a perfect triangle. The shockwave would further paralyze the already motionless and hunkering dragon, and by the time she realized the buildings - some of the most massive ones Shia had been able to find - were collapsing in an unstoppable avalanche of granite that truly dwarfed her size it would already be far too late, effectively burying her alive. ¡°Shia,¡± I panted, already on my feet again though the ground was still unsteady and smaller bits and pieces of flaming detritus kept raining down all around me. ¡°Show me the target zone.¡± ¡°Mommy,¡± Shia murmured, with a slightly trembling voice. ¡°She¡¯s down, you got her. Do you really have to-¡± ¡°Show me,¡± I repeated, and she could hear the steel in my voice even as I kept dashing at full speed until I finally reached set of stairs leading down into two massive double doors, where a blinking red line could finally be seen. With a heavy, lingering sigh, a new display popped into view. Without the dust in the way, it showed a colossal pile of shattered rocks and flaming debris that popped and crackled like a thing alive. A few loose stones skittered down the top, then stopped, then it was all still, as though the great big mound were a titanic tomb. ¡°It¡¯s done, Mommy,¡± Shia whispered, but I held my hand up. ¡°Wait. Wait for it,¡± I whispered, squinting my eyes and holding my breath while all my focus lay on the image projected upon the screen. ¡°What are we..¡± ¡°Wait,¡± I repeated, my eyes still focused keenly upon my prey. ¡°There!¡± I cried out loud without realizing it, as an abrupt shower of flaming rocks and other debris flew into the air and, impossibly, a massive claw rose straight out from that gigantic mound of doom, though it was horribly mangled and bleeding. ¡°Sharinne..¡± Shia cried out softly, her voice trembling. ¡°When you face a worthy adversary across the chasm of life and death,¡± I whispered softly, as we both stared into the image of the battared dragon desperately trying to claw its way out. ¡°You must cut but once, but cut truly, cut deeply..¡± A sudden flash of incandescent white flared across the whole image, and unable to withstand the terrible energies unleashed, Shia¡¯s vision was utterly wiped out. Moreover, the world itself was inundated in a howling haze of white, and a great, rumbling roar could be heard from the distance as though the earth itself had cracked and the heavens wept. ¡°Child, remember..¡± I finished, refusing to close my eyes as the shockwave hit me, sending my clothes fluttering behind me. I kept my gaze fixed on that great, rising deathcloud as it bloomed into horrific life. ¡°You must cut to kill.¡±
    System Alert:Your Soul Guardianhasgained a new matrix crystal!
    Your words and actions have reached the Soul Guardian''s innermost heart and shaken one of its deepest, most treasured values, irrevocably changing its very nature. It will forever rememberthis lesson. Matrix crystals: 1/2. Core Matrix crystals: 0/1.
    "I.. I understand, Mommy,"came Shia''s sadreply, and I could hear the tears in her voice. I opened my mouth, but for the first time in a long, long time, words simply failed me. In the end, I simply stood in silent vigil over the blossoming mushroom cloud, secretly wondering whether I was grieving over the end of an beautiful fight, or mourning the tragic murder of my own child''s innocent heart. Chapter 47 - Dead Heros Last Cry Chapter 47 - Dead Hero¡¯s Last Cry Slowly climbing out of the shelter, it felt as though I¡¯d just stepped out of a time machine. The world I stepped into bore a faint resemblance to the one I''d known, but that was the extent of it. As though some cruel wind had ravaged through it, then thrown it aside like a ragdoll after becoming bored of it, it seemed as though this whole space had suddenly grown older, more wearied and worn down from the weight of time and the predations of unkind circumstance. After throwing one last sour look towards the mushroom cloud still soaring higher in the distance, I spat to one side as though to clear a bitter taste from my mouth. Damn lizard, it had to go and ruin it in the end, by making itself an object lesson to my adopted child. Not that I minded giving the instruction, but the first time breaking someone into the rules of the real world was always the hardest, and the one you questioned yourself about the most in the end. Was it really worth it? For me, survival merited any and all means necessary to achieve it, and if some rough play and a few shattered illusions were all the price I had to pay for even the slightest edge in the deadly game of life, then I¡¯d pay it thrice over without thinking about it twice. But there was a catch. I didn¡¯t have that much to lose from the very beginning, in any case. I had already done a world tour of the world and its many miseries when I hadn¡¯t even been old enough to legally drink alcohol. By the time these same harsh lessons were passed down to me, I¡¯d simply nodded indifferently, then calmly stepped over the cooling corpses of countless victims. For people like Shia, it was simply a different story altogether. Especially since it felt as though she were my charge, my responsibility. Hell, at times I still surprised myself by referring to her as my ¡°daughter¡±. What had begun as a simple joke had now become a distinctly uncomfortable anomaly in my otherwise caustic nature which I couldn¡¯t bear to explore, now of all times. So, was it truly worth the price? Only time would tell. These were the heavy thoughts weighing on my mind as I slowly made my way back toward the fountain. As such, you will understand the reason why I didn¡¯t realize it until it was already far too late. The first warning was, strangely enough, the heat of it. It may sound ridiculous, but the first warning I had that all was not well in the world was the uncomfortable, smothering heat I felt in the back of my neck, accompanied by an irrepressible shiver that ran down my spine. I¡¯d had that feeling a few times during my career. It usually meant I¡¯d screwed up big time. ¡°Mommy! Watch o-¡± That was all I heard of Shia¡¯s startled warning, before it was drowned out by the roaring that filled my mind when I slowly turned around and the slight frown on my face gave way to surprise at first, then gaping disbelief. You have GOT to be kidding me. Of all the.. That was all the time I had before the vicious ball of fangs and fire that was Sharinne hit me like a freight train jetted up on nitro. Even as the dragon bore down on me, I couldn¡¯t help but gawk in absolute shock. That was a goddamn nuke, for gods sakes. Sure, just a baby nuke with a limited payload, but it was still a goddamn nuke! Granted, the dragon looked like it had been through hell and worse. Smoldering spines that showed more bone than skin were all that was left of its wings. One of its front claws hung limply at her side, while the other had been torn off at the elbow. Her hind legs were not in much better shape, one of them limping badly, the other barely able to propel her weight forward without sending out prodigious amounts of flaming scarlet blood. About that fire, it wasn¡¯t just her leg constantly pumping out what seemed endless streams of lava that belched fire at every other step. The whole dragon was being consumed by it, as blood copiously poured forth from ghastly wounds that would each have guaranteed a mortal blow. Hell, since one claw hung limp and useless, it was actually using the amputated stump of its other forelimb to charge at me. Are you kidding me? As my incredulous gaze traveled up and finally met her single remaining eye though, I could finally understand how it had managed not only to stand, but to charge at me with that furious, determined snarl. I¡¯d seen that look a few times on the battlefield. Now that was one pissed off dragon. It was very rare, but from time to time I would come across cases like these. Soldiers who would take a full clip of bullets to the chest, and still howl maniacally while charging at the enemy lines. Mothers who would lift a truck with their bare hands to pull out their wailing child from underneath its wheels, only to drop dead on the spot immediately after. I personally branded it as hysterical strength - little more than an adrenaline-fueled craze that would burn away a person¡¯s life with it. The soldiers called it the dead hero¡¯s last cry. Well, watching all thousand-odd tons of burning dragon flesh rushing at me in a headlong, desperate charge, I would be a liar if I said I didn¡¯t almost shit my pants right then and there. There would be nothing heroic about that. Fortunately, a lifetime of life-and-death struggles were not in vain, as my survival instincts belatedly kicked in and I threw myself headlong to the left, hoping the dragon was as blind in its fury as it looked. Alas, though it was furious, it was not the least bit blind. Instead, as my soul-powered, adrenaline-pumped legs propelled me an impressive thirty feet to the side of the oncoming avalanche of dragon rage, the freaking dragon actually turned on its side and whipped its twice accursed tail at me once more. Now granted, this tail was a bleeding, charred and badly mangled shadow of its former self. Mind you, it was barely a third of its former length, but that was more than enough to bat me away like a game winner at the bottom of the ninth. Except I would probably fare much worse from the impact than a baseball would. Damn it, there were some rules in this game. You were supposed to be dead already. We even gave you the whole silent minute and philosophical debate about the nature of victory and defeat in the altar of life and death. So, shouldn¡¯t you have the decency to stay dead? I definitely wanted a refund for that nuke!If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. All these thoughts flashed through my mind, then I was back in the action. As I racked my brains in that half-second before a life-crushing impact pureed my brains all across the stones below, I instinctively summoned my soul power once more. I knew I had overdrafted it, and I didn¡¯t know whether it would work or not. However, at this point I simply acted on reflex, and perhaps that is what saved my life. I could have tried to summon Aetna, and died with a stupid look as though I were constipated and struggling mightily to pass on one last good crap before I could even come close to replicating that feat. I could have tried to summon a flaming sword, and been pancaked under the dragon¡¯s ass while the useless toothpick twirled prettily in the air, then buried itself by my side, a fancy marker for my tomb. No, what my desperate last minute reflex managed to summon was instead a huge freaking shield, like those worn by medieval knights to storm a castle that was raining hell and doom upon you. I guess that kind of speaks about my general state of mind right at that moment. ¡°You damn bi-¡± I cried out loud while hunkering behind the shield as well as I could while flying through the air. The rest of it was abruptly cut off as the dragon¡¯s maw slammed into the shield, then the whole world flashed in a white fog of pain, and I just didn¡¯t really give a damn about any of this crap anymore. I was just so damn tired. If I could just catch a break, rest for a while. All those memories, all those tragedies, and now this final betrayal, this violation of the rules, it was simply too much. The wind rustled through my hair, and my whole body felt weightless and carefree. A smile slowly began to tug at the corners of my lips. Ah, yes. This was more like it. I¡¯d just catch a bit of a breather here.. ¡°Mommy! Wake up!¡± Shia screamed in my head. Jolted by the urgency in her voice, I instantly shook the fog from my mind and felt for the ground below me in order to stand back up, all the while wondering how the hell I¡¯d actually survived that. It was then that I realized that there was actually nothing, not a single thing below me. Or around me, for that matter. I dizzily craned my head around and realized I was still flying in the air, a good twenty to thirty feet off the ground. My whole body was numb, and I belatedly realized I still had the shield clutched in a deathgrip around my hand. At this moment, however, I was soaring through the air so fast that the world around me was a blur. I knew this couldn¡¯t last for long, and indeed I felt that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me I¡¯d begun my long descent towards the ground, where certain pain and likely death awaited like hungry dogs. I couldn¡¯t feel anything in my arms, and I knew at least a few bones must be broken. Still, I refused to give up and painfully twisted the shield around, eventually succeeding in reversing our positions so that when I finally did hit the ground, instead of grinding all my flesh on the floor, the shield skidded crazily over the ground in a blind rush of speed, before crashing against a barrier and flipping me headlong into oblivion. Fortunately, what awaited me was not a wall of stone ready to crack my thick skull. Instead, with a loud splash I fell into the central fountain of that plaza where I¡¯d first met my nemesis. Coughing roughly and spitting more water than I¡¯d thought I could possibly swallow in such a short time, I finally managed to find my unsteady feet and turned my gaze back in the direction I¡¯d flown from. There, barely 300 feet away and closing fast, came the berserking dragon, ready to end me with one final blow. As it approached me, limping badly and leaving a trail of blood and flames behind, I could tell this would be the final showdown. Still, it was all I could do to stand. I dug deep within me but that vast reservoir of soul power simply kept getting farther and farther away, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand. My left arm hung limply by my side, with bone showing through below the elbow. My other hand grasping the retaining wall of the fountain was at the moment the only thing keeping me standing, as my unsteady legs certainly wouldn¡¯t bear my whole weight and balance at the same time. As it approached, a mere 200 feet now, the dragon gave out a blood-thirsty roar of victory. Blood caked every inch of its disfigured face, with countless wounds crisscrossing every inch of it. One eye was permanently closed, but the other burned with an intense flame as it gazed unwaveringly at me. The mighty roar proved too much for me, and I stumbled backward as the physical power of it hit me. Falling on my back in the middle of the fountain, I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off my opponent as I unconsciously moved away from it. ¡°Damn beast, if only I had a weapon. To have come this far and lose..¡± I whispered, still bitterly unreconciled with this outcome. ¡°Mister, you came for me. That¡¯s enough,¡± came the soft voice behind my ear. ¡°Sorry I made you wait. I¡¯m ready now.¡± ¡°Sol?¡± I stammered, and suddenly my whole body was infused with newfound strength and vitality as my fingers closed upon an object that felt vaguely familiar. It was the hilt of a sword. The dragon¡¯s single blazing eye widened, looking every bit as surprised and taken aback as I was. My only working hand was holding on to Malky, and although I could feel its massive weight fill my grip, I felt certain I could swing it as though it were an extension of my own body. Warmth endlessly inundated my body, penetrating through my hand and infusing me with a ferocious vitality that made my heart thunder in my ears. My blood sang a willful song of fire and steel as I calmly gazed back at my would-be huntress, who had stopped short of the fountain and stared back. Now that we truly stood toe to toe, I could see the massive extent of the wounds I¡¯d inflicted on Sharinne. If anything, it was far worse than I¡¯d thought. It was a wonder she was alive at all, let alone staring down at me in baleful, unresigned defiance. At the last moment, however, a shimmering orb of scarlet energies I¡¯d failed to detect at first seemed to tremble when her gaze fell down upon Malky. ¡°Soledad,¡± Sharinne at last spoke, though the tone was different from before. It seemed more ancient, venerable, and age-wearied beyond belief. ¡°Child, this one boon you may not request of me. It cannot be!¡± ¡°What are you talking abou-¡± The rest of it died in my lips as Sharinne seemed to pull the last of her dwindling reserves, her very lifeforce itself, and sucked in that reddish sphere of energies around her through her maw. I instantly gritted my teeth and grinned fiercely to myself. This was it. It had all come down to this final clash. Air crackled and popped as the dragon opened its maw and spit forth a massive torrent of flames toward me. I responded in kind, opening my mouth wide and letting out a vicious cry as I twisted my hips and leaned forward, delivering a great overhand slash with Malky. The enormous sword seemed as light as a feather in my hands, pulsing eagerly in its desire to quench its thirst for battle. A tremendous clash resounded in the air as sword and flames collided in an incredible explosion. I felt resistance for but a moment, then the mighty sword cleaved open a path through the flames as easily as an iron blade chopping through dry tinder. The force of the blow instantly cleared a path all the way to the Dragon, before finally halting right before its single glittering eye. A tired, defeated look flashed through Sharine¡¯s gaze before she let out a despairing sigh, and her whole figure rapidly wilted, until all that was left was the same old woman who had first welcomed me to the Shrine. Grinning fiercely and not one to waste such a chance, I lifted my arm to end it all while I still could, when I suddenly found that not only had Malky mysteriously vanished from my grip, my borrowed strength and vitality were also leaking out at an alarming rate. I barely managed to hold my victorious expression with faintly trembling lips, and silently prayed that I wouldn¡¯t completely disgrace myself by collapsing on my knees right then and there. Then shockingly, it was the dragon who did. Kneel, that is. Sharinne fell on her knees and placing both hands on the ground, she laid her forehead against the ground. So in turn I did the only logical thing to do at that moment. I laughed. I laughed my ass off until tears began to stream from my eyes. Because if I didn¡¯t laugh now, I wasn¡¯t sure I wouldn¡¯t start to really cry. Women, they are just crazy. Chapter 48 - The All-Seeing Eye Chapter 48 - The All-Seeing Eye I hissed in pain as I bit back a curse and threw a withering glance in Sharinne¡¯s direction. The damn woman was still kneeling, calmly gazing back at me though in the back of her eyes I could see the last light of one final flickering hope. ¡°Mommy, pay attention. You have to set the bone right!¡± Shia complained loudly, like a mother hen worrying over a defenseless chick. Which may aptly describe me, since my legs had finally given out on me and I had barely managed to collapse on top of the wide edge of the fountain. At the moment I was wrestling with an uneasy balance of trying to glare death at Sharinne while at the same time wrapping a makeshift bandage around my broken arm. I pointedly ignored Shia¡¯s clucking, and instead addressed the elephant in the room. ¡°Why?¡± I simply asked, still glowering darkly. ¡°It was a test to decide whether you had the strength to overcome the trials of the Shrine of th-¡± ¡°Bullshit,¡± I called, without even bothering to listen to the rest. ¡°You yourself as much as admitted that I had just single-handedly leveled that pain in the ass Labyrinth.¡± ¡°Test my strength?¡± I snorted loudly to let her know exactly what I thought of that idea. ¡°You wanted to kill me so badly that not even a goddamn nuke could stop you.¡± ¡°It was necessary to determine the depth of your endurance, the might of your determinati-¡± ¡°You keep farting in my face like that, I¡¯m gonna shove the next nuke up your damn ass like an oversized suppository,¡± I stated matter-of-factly. Sharinne seemed to vaguely understand what a nuke was - after all, the last one had gone off right under her feet, while she was still buried under hundreds of tons of rubble. How had she managed that? No matter, seeing the struggle painted nakedly on Sharinne¡¯s face, I kept right on going. ¡°Then I¡¯m gonna take Sol and Reaver away by force, but not before burning this whole damn place to the ground. We¡¯ll see how the Shrine of the Crimson freaking Flame really likes to play with fire then.¡± Then I waited, impassive. I knew I had her. Sharinne bit her lips, and only spoke after a long moment, though with obvious reluctance. ¡°You do not frighten me, Lord Seth. Nor are your threats of any relevance, not at this point. However, I shall speak because you have earned it through your actions, even as misguided as they were.¡± Sharinne somehow managed to radiate an aura of dignity and wounded honor while she said this, and that was even more of a miracle than the whatthehell comeback she had just made from the tomb of the radioactive dead. After all, I may be torn and bloodied, trying to wrap a bandage around my shattered arm, but Sharinne looked like she¡¯d been to hell and back, all the while crawling through it on her face. Though the scars had stopped bleeding, I could see countless wounds spider-webbing across her skin. One of her hands was missing, ending in a stump, and though her robes were immaculate I could see the hint of terrible scars underneath. Not only that, but after breathing a freaking river of flaming fire at me without the least bit of a warning, then chasing me ragged across half this twice be accursed city, she dared to insinuate that it was all my fault and she was a mere victim? The balls on this chick, seriously. Ignoring my baffled stare, Sharinne gazed at me with burning intensity out of her sole remaining eye. ¡°I am but a fading remnant, but I still bear the will of Sharizhassleanna, ancient Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Flame and Anointed of the All-seeing eye.¡± Sharinne paused briefly, obviously still wrestling with a few dying doubts, but then she seemed to draw herself together and looked up to gaze straight into my eyes with scarlet fire burning in her glowing eye. Her other glowing eye, that is. Somewhere in the middle of this, her forehead had begun to gather light, then shone dazzlingly while the faint outline of an eye could be seen on it. It was when this eye opened fully that the air seemed to roil and charge with static, as though a terrible storm were brewing just overhead. ¡°I see the path you walk, Lord Seth. It is one of slaughter, of madness, of chaos and destruction. You are the Harbinger of Doom, the Usherer of the Dark Tides. You walk a path lined with the corpses of immortals, and the Gods themselves shall tremble under the terrible might of your fist.¡± The flame in Sharinne¡¯s eyes seemed to grow even more intense, if possible, and a single tear of crimson blood slowly slid down each cheek as her gaze pierced my soul and held me in rapt silence while her voice gained in momentum, ringing soundly with an ancient power and sending great echoes booming into the distance. ¡°World Breaker, God Slayer, Soul Reaper, who shall escape the fury of your ruthless will? Whose blood shall finally slake your endless thirst? Woe is the world, for rivers shall run red and the heavens shall weep in scarlet despair, but the Last God is come and the End Times are nigh!¡± With a final cry, which might have been a howl of grief or a sigh of relief from finally being released, Sharinne collapsed on her hands to the ground and her shoulders shook violently while heart-wrenching sobs riddled her chest. ¡°Mommy..¡± came Shia¡¯s concerned whisper. I shook my head and closed my eyes, feeling like I¡¯d just swallowed a turd and couldn¡¯t quite get the flavor out of my mouth. Well, finally someone who knows what I¡¯m all about. So, what else is new? ¡°I believe in you, Mommy,¡± came the gentle words in my ears, and I barely stopped myself from warning her that she shouldn¡¯t. It wasn¡¯t that I felt her innocent hopes were warranted in any way, shape or form. Not at all. I simply couldn¡¯t bear to shatter a sweet child¡¯s most precious illusion. I couldn¡¯t rob her of that dream. Not so soon. Not again. Not yet. In the meantime, Sharinne had slowly picked herself up from the floor, and her expression once again regained her earlier composure, though the disturbing streaks of red still blew the whole facade. ¡°I.. I beg your forgiveness for the unsightly scene, Lord Seth. However, this one humbly hopes that you now understand why I cannot entrust the fate of Soledad in your hands.¡± I twisted my face in a grimace while smacking my lips, still trying to get that shitty aftertaste out of my mouth. ¡°I could just help you restore Sol, then leave her in your care,¡± I offered. Sharinne quickly shook her head. ¡°Even for you as the Soulbound, it would take you at least a full year to restore Sol. That is too long. Far too long.¡± Her lips trembled slightly as Sharinne¡¯s hands rose before her in honest entreaty and she bowed deeply before me. ¡°Lord Seth, I am.. I am afraid, and as the warrior prime of the Clan of the Crimson Flame, I do not admit such easily. But I am afraid that by then Soledad¡¯s fate and yours would become further intertwined, and thus impossible to separate. Already, I can faintly feel the strings of destiny drawing your fates closer with each passing moment. This must stop here and now. I beg you, Lord Seth. Grant this old woman a final reprieve, and leave our clan alone.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair!¡± came Shia¡¯s shrill protest. ¡°You have no right!¡± Sharinne did not say any more, and remained with her head down, unwilling to meet my gaze any longer. I sighed heavily through my nose, but after a long, long moment I still nodded decisively. ¡°That¡¯s not really your choice, now is it?¡± ¡°I am the Keeper of the Shrine.¡± ¡°And it is Sol¡¯s soul on the line,¡± I retorted, tilting my head towards the giant statue of Malky that lay in the middle of the fountain once more, only I was now certain it wasn¡¯t really a copy at all. ¡°Want me to ask what she thinks again?¡±If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. A long moment of silence ensued. ¡°How can you so carelessly place the fate of countless others upon your back? What if you fail?¡± Sharinne at least breathed. I shrugged just as carelessly as always. ¡°It¡¯s because I really don¡¯t care,¡± I easily replied. Sharinne seemed shocked. ¡°But it¡¯s their lives, their entire destinies unraveling before your ey-¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care to lose,¡± I cut her off. ¡°Either by action or inaction. I always play by my rules, and I always play to win.¡± ¡°Look,¡± I sighed through my nose, tieing up the bandage and climbing unsteadily to my feet. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this crap. If you¡¯re really so afraid of what I will do in the future, why don¡¯t you step up and do something about it? Stop whining about the scary Godslayer, and get your dainty little claws wet.¡± We both stood there, gazing at each other without a word. ¡°Fine, I¡¯m not going to kill you because obviously Sol didn¡¯t want me to do finish the job when I had the chance. For all I care, you two can keep each other company while this whole world drowns in flames.¡± I was just about done with this whole idiotic place. I had just been wrung through all the worst experiences of my life, and in the end instead of a hero¡¯s welcome, or at the very least a hefty reward, I got a dragon clawing at my ass, then crying me a river while bawling about its poor dragon fortune teller nightmares? Perhaps I would revisit this place again once I gathered back enough strength, but as of now we stood at a stalemate, and this stubborn lizard was not budging at all. I could see it in her eyes, a zealot¡¯s firm conviction that would see her torch herself alive rather than give in. Sol, you stupid brat. You should have just let me kill her. ¡°As you will then. Give me my reward, and we will leave right away. Tell that brat that she¡¯s welcome to her nanny dragon and that bag of fleas.¡± ¡°Mommy!¡± With a final, determined nod, I turned on my heels and began to walk off towards the biggest building in the plaza. I began to wonder what relics of power, what mysterious tomes of knowledge I would be able to extort from Sharinne as the price for my withdrawal. Sol would just have to wait until I came back and kicked the living snot out of that dragon. ¡°Mommy wait. WAIT!¡± ¡°WAIT!¡± Frowning deeply, I stopped on my tracks and turned my head to fix the last person to speak with a cold glare over my shoulder. ¡°What now?¡± I muttered. ¡°My sight.. Lord Seth, the fates are shifting. The strings of destiny, they are uncoiling. This can only signify that a major power has decided to make a move!¡± Sharinne cried out in alarm, her face draining of all blood. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± I stared at her like the woman had finally proven beyond a doubt that she was batshit crazy. ¡°The moment you made your decision and turned around, I could feel the shadow of despair hovering ominously over Soledad¡¯s fate. Already, it is too late. It moves, it comes!¡± Sharinne shouted that last while looking up towards the night skies, which were still undisturbed and serene. So, with an expectant air, I kept my gaze on the sky above and waited. Then waited some more. Nothing. ¡°Lord Seth, I implore you, I beseech you, guide our child. Nurture her strength, inspire her courage, and guard her spirit. Fulfill the final wishes of a dying race.¡± ¡°What are you going off about?¡± I frowned while crossing my arms, or at least attempting to, before a flash of pain from my freshly bound arm stopped me cold. ¡°Fate weaves as it will,¡± Sharinne whispered, almost to herself. ¡°The Guardian of the Gates of Oblivion did not speak wrongly, and only now do I finally realize my folly. Lord Seth, please follow me. I will guide you to your justly earned rewards, as well as Sol and Reaver¡¯s resting place.¡± Scratching my head and unable to make heads or tails of all the nonsense this madwoman was spitting out, I ultimately shrugged and decided this latest development couldn¡¯t hurt. However, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it wouldn¡¯t have been easier to just say no and turn around from the beginning, before this whole pointless fight got started. ¡°Aw well¡±, I reflected. ¡°How often do you really get to nuke a dragon¡¯s ass?¡± Sharinne slowly led me towards the biggest building at the square, one that seemed more dignified than most. It had an endless series of stairs that led to an impressive arch, all the way through which I cursed and spat at each and every pain and ache screaming from my battered body. My only consolation was that Sharinne was obviously having a much harder time than I was. Heheh, misery loves company, after all. At last Sharinne led me through a long hallway lined with torches burning with a green ethereal glow. Near the end of this hallway, Sharinne waved a hand gently over a massive, iron-bound door. It flickered with ghostly afterlights and with a few clicking noises, the door sprang open by itself, slowly revealing a massive hoard that had Shia drooling at the sight of it. The whole room was full of books, scrolls and other parchment, carefully and neatly lined up on shelves that reached all the way to the ceiling, which was at least as high as a three story building. As Sharinne led us through the middle of the room, I could see dozens of different languages and script on the spines of the books, most of which seemed to emanate an aura of age and power. ¡°Mommy!¡± Shia cried out helplessly when Sharinne did not stop, but I quietly shushed her as I followed the footsteps of our guide. ¡°This is the Hall of Knowledge,¡± Sharinne spoke softly over her shoulder as she continued walking. ¡°These is the combined knowledge of thousands of generations of the Clan of the Crimson Flame. You may peruse these records and even collect those you are able to take with you. I will grant you what time I can after we visit our Hall of Relics.¡± ¡°Wait, you mean I can just erm, borrow as many of these books as I can take with me?¡± I stammered, disbelieving. Sharinne nodded absently without turning her head. ¡°Indeed, that is my meaning.¡± ¡°OhmygodMommyIcan¡¯tbelieveitdidshereallyjustsaythat?¡± Shia shouted excitedly in my head. ¡°As many as I can take, really?¡± I couldn¡¯t help but confirm, while at the same time sharing Shia¡¯s excitement. The Keeper of the Shrine nodded once more, still leading the way. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re appreciative of the value of knowledge, Lord Seth. However, time presses and when you lay sight upon the sacred relics contained within our vaults, I¡¯m only afraid your enthusiasm toward these tomes will wane greatly.¡± ¡°Jackpot!¡± Shia celebrated out loud within my mind, and I had to wonder if she really knew what that meant. ¡°Ah, about that. Give me just a moment,¡± I mumbled, as I hastily made my way towards one particular section where the most highly prized and carefully kept books seemed to be kept. ¡°Shia, you ready for an all-you-can eat buffet?¡± ¡°Hihihi, like Mommy likes to say, born ready!¡± Shia eagerly chirped. ¡°Alright, lets go crazy, it¡¯s on the house!¡± I cried out happily, and waved my hand slowly over the shelves on both sides as I slowly made my way forward, in the direction where Sharinne stood waiting. Her expression still maintained that stoic mask, but in her eyes flashed a look of worry. ¡°Damn right you should be worried,¡± I chortled in my mind. ¡°We¡¯re definitely gonna clean house today!¡± Ah, at long last, books. Endless stacks upon stacks of books. I would finally fulfill my ambitions as the travelling scholar, the hoarder of knowledge, the master of enlightenment. This is where my many travails as a useless wimp at pretty much every single engagement out in the mortal world would pay off big time! I could barely hold in my maniacal cackling as I watched Sharinne¡¯s complexion shift from puzzlement, to slight concern, then ashen-faced dismay as entire rows upon rows of precious tomes of ancient knowledge trembled slightly before vanishing completely with a slight popping sound. ¡°So, soooooo gooooooooood¡± Shia gasped in the closest thing to ecstasy I¡¯ve heard from her. ¡°That.. what.. Lord Seth, I don¡¯t, I don¡¯t understand,¡± Sharinne stammered. ¡°I can¡¯t detect the arcane resonance of any magical storage devices on your person. Just how are you doing this?¡± ¡°Secret of the trade,¡± I crowed, all the while continuing to make my rounds through the room, ravaging entire bookshelves in far less time than it would take ten strong men to tilt their contents into giant sacks. Hell, make that a hundred! ¡°But, but.. This is.. All of our collected knowledge..¡± Sharinne couldn¡¯t help but stammer, her previous cool facade completely blown away at this point as she watched the sum of her clan¡¯s long history and records vanishing before her very eyes at an impossible rate. ¡°We¡¯ll make good use of it, I promise. I¡¯ll even teach Sol, that brat, how to read and write,¡± I promised off-handedly, then added magmanimously. ¡°Maybe even go as far as her basic numbers.¡± Hell, let it never be said that I didn¡¯t know how to engage in a fair bit of give-and-go. I could afford to be generous. Hell, I could splurge like a madman now! Of course, Sharinne¡¯s opinion of what exactly constituted a fair exchange might be slightly different from my own. Aw well, can¡¯t make everyone happy, can you? Although I do have to admit, even I was slightly taken aback by Shia¡¯s sheer appetite. The voracious little minx swept through this vault of knowledge like a shrieking storm, relentlessly absorbing book after scroll after tome, leaving nothing but sad, empty shelves in its wake. Initially, I¡¯d begun my circuit from what I judged would be the juiciest, most valuable tomes, logically assuming that Sharinne would quickly spring forward and halt Shia¡¯s ravenous rampage as soon as she realized what was going on. I mean, one Shia swallowed a book, it wasn¡¯t as though she could ask her to spit it back out. Hell, I didn¡¯t know if that was even possible! However, as we swiftly picked up pace and began to practically empty out entire rows of bookshelves, Sharinne merely stood her ground. Granted, her eyes were filled with agony and her one remaining hand clutched at the fabric of her robe in a death grip, as though she were barely holding herself back from doing something she might come to regret. Her lips were bloodless and she seemed to have aged years in the span of a handful of minutes, but she stood by her word and did not stop us, even as Shia devoured the very last tome in that vast library. I casually sauntered my way back to Sharinne, still not quite sure why she had not put a stop to our ransacking of her clan¡¯s precious vaults of knowledge. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re done here. What¡¯s next?¡± I asked in a bright, cheerful tone. ¡°BURP¡± Shia loudly punctuated my question, before she promptly apologized. ¡°Err, I¡¯m sorry Sharinne. I, um, I think I¡¯ll excuse myself for a while. Thank you for the meal.¡± Polite to a fault, I noted in my mind, and nodded approvingly. Sharinne almost spit out blood, and visibly swayed on her feet before finally reaching out a hand and steadying herself against the doorway to the next room. God, I love dragons. All proper and honorable in keeping their word and all. Foolish, but honorable. Can¡¯t ask for easier marks than that, now can you? All the while, however, I couldn¡¯t help but notice that Sharinne¡¯s third eye, the one up in the middle of her forehead had yet to recede completely, and still glimmered faintly with a mysterious light. I shrugged off the sense of unease nibbling at my exhilaration as I pictured all those precious tomes of knowledge, and what I would do with them. Hehe, didn¡¯t see THAT coming, now did you, so-called Anointed of the All-seeing Eye? Chapter 49 - The Birth of a Nation Chapter 49 - The Birth of a Nation ¡°Well, that was rather generous of you,¡± I noted calmly while we made our way further into the massive complex. Yeah, I couldn¡¯t help but delight in rubbing salt into the wounds of my adversary. So sue me. Sharinne could definitely see what I was doing, but she still set her teeth and slowly ground out each word, ¡°I gave my word, and an honorable warrior will live and die by it.¡± I nodded approvingly, all the while wondering what other massive treasure troves I could swindle out of this poor, deluded lizard who had obviously fallen far, far behind the times. ¡°Honor?¡± I scoffed inwardly. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I always try my best to keep my promises. It¡¯s one of the reasons why I don¡¯t give them out lightly. However, it¡¯s not out of some misguided sense of honor. What¡¯s the point in that? People out in the real world will stab you just as easily as look at you, should there be a single copper of profit to be made in the process. Let¡¯s face it, most of our so-called civilized society is only kept ¡°civilized¡± by the open and severe application of punishment. After all, have you seen the mass riots and unrest that will instantly spring into life whenever there¡¯s the perception that yes, you can get away with pillaging and looting at will? It¡¯s like the festering boils on the backside of society finally exploding, showing you what¡¯s really going on behind all that perfumed, powdered veneer. Me, I just keep things simple. I give my word and I keep it, simply because if you don¡¯t there¡¯s usually a much messier aftermath to deal with. Lies will eventually catch up to you and bite you in the ass. Sharinne, though, she struck me as the type to foolishly hang on to the last crumbling remains of her honor, even though the whole institution lay floundering in the storm of the times. It¡¯s sink or swim, and useless dead weights like chivalry and honor, they would happily drag you to the bottom of the roiling seas of humanity, never to be seen again. That¡¯s where they will keep you cold comfort, at the bottom of the ocean, feeding the scavenging predators who flock to such generous feasts. Me, I was just along for the ride. That, and to see just how many more goodies I would scam out of this dinosaur. As we steadily made our way down long, lavishly decorated hallways and through grand arching doorways, Sharinne didn¡¯t bother to engage in smalltalk, and I wasn¡¯t much inclined to disagree. I mean, we had just tried to kill one another, and while I had only walked away with a broken arm and a few scratches, Sharinne looked like a war vet who had signed on for far too many suicidal campaigns for her own good. It can¡¯t be fun to be handing out your family heirlooms to the bastard who had just poked out your eye, now can it? Of course, I did my very best to be helpful, candidly offering such helpful remarks as, ¡°Do you ever find your wings clipping the edges of these low arches, well back when had wings, that is?¡± or ¡°Watch your step in this hall, it must be hard to orient yourself with only one eye when the lighting is this dim.¡± Shia would hiss and cough in outraged protest after each of these remarks, but I am a mere mortal, and those of us who are not born into the vaunted position and status of a fancy Keeper of the Shrine of Crimson Farts, well we are forced to find our own saucy amusements to keep us occupied. At long last, just when I thought Sharinne would finally blow her top and revert into her dragon mode, and honor and oaths be damned, we at last arrived at a massive door with many arcane sigils inscribed around its edges. They shimmered with power as Sharine lifted her one good hand and traced various mysterious symbols in the air. ¡°Shia,¡± I whispered under my breath. ¡°Make sure you get all this. We might want to pay a late night visit, later on when poor Sharinne is resting from her exertions.¡± ¡°You mean we should rob Sol¡¯s forebear blind the moment her back is turned?¡± Shia protested primly in my mind. ¡°Yeah, kind of like what you did back at the Hall of Knowledge, only a little bit more delicately,¡± I helpfully pointed out, producing the desired effect. Thereafter Shia was very quiet and I was hopeful she would be much more agreeable to my suggestions. Flashing arcs of light coursed through the door, then the entire corridor seemed to let out a slow, rumbling breath as an invisible layer that I¡¯d previously failed to notice popped like a bubble, and the massive gate began to slowly open by itself. Damn, I needed to get my hands on some of these fancy automatic doors. Sharinne stretched forth a hand toward the open door, nodding to me. I grinned amiably while shaking my head, ¡°After you, of course, our gracious host.¡± What can I say? Old habits die hard. Not that I saw the need to change them. I wasn¡¯t stepping into some deathtrap, smiling dragon lady or not. Sharinne almost rolled her eyes at me, but not quite. She was, after all, the mighty Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Snot. She had her status and reputation to think about. Not that she had cared the least bit about those minor concerns when she had been trying to roast me in my own juices, just a couple hours ago. Sharinne obliged and stepped in first, after which I eagerly followed. What greeted my eyes was a scene straight from your favorite fairy tale. Laid out before me was a vast hoard of glittering piles of gold, generously sprinkled throughout with massive gems and gleaming artifacts that veritably shouted, ¡°Pick me, pick me, I¡¯m a hella expensive trinket you won¡¯t find in your friendly neighborhood dungeon vault!¡± The sheer scope of these riches was frankly staggering. The room itself was about the size of a football stadium, and the giant piles of treasures were squeezed in so tightly, there was barely any room to walk, let alone see all of what lay ahead at one glance. ¡°Wipe the drool off your chin, Mommy,¡± Shia muttered, sounding as though she were dying of shame. Hah, as if she hadn¡¯t just pigged out on a whole library¡¯s worth of priceless books. Where had her sense of decorum been then, the little hypocrite. Still, after catching the smug look of satisfaction and self-vindication on Sharinne¡¯s face, I quickly disciplined my features into a more seemly mask of lofty indifference. A mere mask, of course, but at least I would salvage what little remained of my dignity. Not that I wouldn¡¯t immediately whore it out for a mere pittance of what lay displayed before my eyes. I wasn¡¯t a money crazed fool, but neither have I ever claimed to be a saint. Sharinne¡¯s next words seriously made me doubt my sanity though, and I gaped in mute astonishment, all sense of decorum completely shattered and swept away. ¡°You may now choose from any and all of the treasures and relics contained within this vault. I shall be candid with you, Lord Seth. This is the heritage of thousands of years of our clan¡¯s history, the worthy spoils from countless battles and the rich rewards for our noble deeds. I offer these to you openly, in hopes that you shall assist in guiding our future generation towards higher peaks still. Therefore, please do not hesitate nor feel troubled as you..¡± The rest of her speech faltered, then died off as she stared at my quickly receding back, as I shamelessly let out a whooping cry of celebration and dashed forward to claim my well-deserved prize. Damn, I had struck it rich this time. Truly rich! Scattered in careless piles before me lay endless quantities of gold, precious gems, and enchanted artifacts of all shapes and sizes. There were swords richly embedded with gleaming gems, axes with wickedly sharp edges glowing with faint blood-thirsty auras, chest plates with elaborate engravings and designs that spoke of exquisite craftsmanship and attention to detail.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Sharinne seemed to recover her composure, then called out after me, ¡°I shall give you until the sand runs out in this crystal to choose your prizes as you will. Then we must move on, for time is of the essence.¡± Immediately after, she reached out towards an ornate crystal hourglass lying by the entrance. I halted for a second to look back towards Sharinne. Surely no dinosaur could be this stupid. ¡°You mean anything and everything I can collect within that timeframe?¡± Sharinne nodded back to me with a solemn expression, though her eyes held yet another hint of disdain in them while they glanced around at the massive hoard around us. ¡°Just how much do you think you can carry out with you in such a brief time, little manling?¡± her look seemed to ask. Heh, a lot more than you can afford to lose, overgrown snake. ¡°Shia,¡± I mouthed, staring at the dizzyingly high piles of loot strewn about, nearly reaching the roof. I didn¡¯t dare speak too loudly here, lest an errant shout of joy cause one of these mountains of gold to topple over, crushing the life out of me under its golden embrace. Then again, I suppose there were worse ways to die. ¡°I estimate the time to be around 15 minutes. You want to me classify and prioritize the priciest artifacts and gems here? First of all, gold is not readily portable,¡± Shia began, and though I approved of how quickly she was starting to pick up on my line of thinking, my poor young child was still too green in the business. ¡°Wait. It seems a pity to rush in so thoughtlessly when our hostess is being so generous. We wouldn¡¯t want to seem unappreciative of her largesse. Sharinne did mention something about magical storage devices earlier. What do you know of those?¡± I observed. ¡°Oh? Hmm. Let me see. According to the Index Arcana of Magical Curios and Artifacts, Chapter 12 on page 342, magical storage devices come in various shapes and sizes. They may be as simple as a sack enchanted to reduce the weight of any items placed within, to truly mighty artifacts of potent magic which are able to tear open small rifts in the fabric of space and time, granting access to their own exclusive pocket dimension where items may be stored regardless of their weight.¡± ¡°Can you identify any such within this vault?¡± I asked hopefully. ¡°I can give it a try as I have a highly developed awareness of magical auras, but there is just too much magical noise here. Also, identification of magical items is rather simple, but it requires a specific technique to channel external magical power. I don¡¯t have access to such yet,¡± Shia began, and my eyes dimmed with disappointment. ¡°However, I did eat an ancient ledger book titled ¡°Ancestral Registry of Heroic Deeds and Relics¡±, an extensive record of most of the treasures contained within the Clan of the Crimson Flame¡¯s Hall of Relics,¡± Shia finished with a wicked giggle, and I didn¡¯t know whether to kiss her or rap a smart knuckle against her figurative head. ¡°It¡¯s a very handy little book. It even comes with detailed descriptions and illustrations of every notable artifact.¡± ¡°Hmm. I assume you¡¯re cataloging all these treasures around us as I¡¯m moving,¡± I whispered back, elated. ¡°Really Mommy? You need to even ask?¡± Shia retorted, sounding almost offended. ¡°Just checking, my dear. Just checking. Remember we are under a deadline.¡± ¡°As if I need the reminder, hmmph!¡± As if to punctuate her words, a small clock started to tick down in the corner of my vision: 14:23 and counting. ¡°Wait! Here Mommy! I can sense a strong space-time magic aura buried under this pile on the left. No, not there, on your other left. Gah, here, follow the shiny arrow,¡± Shia muttered helplessly, and for once I didn¡¯t mind at all as I dug frantically, carelessly throwing aside pearls the size of oranges and rubies and emeralds as big as quail eggs. Grrr, why was there so much junk in here? ¡°There! The silver ring. Not that one, the other one! The one with the sinewy silhouette of the eagle coiling all the way around. I said eagle, not chicken! Just follow the arrow, will you Mommy?¡± There were dozens of rings contained in the chest Shia had me open, but I finally picked out the right one. It seemed rather ordinary at first glance, but when I put it on according to Shia¡¯s instructions, a faint electric tingle ran through my finger as I bound the magical ring. Thereafter, merely by focusing my attention on the ring, I could feel the strange awareness of a pocket space that comprised a perfect cube of exactly 9 feet on all its sides. ¡°How do you operate this thing?¡± I asked, looking back to the other rings contained within the chest. ¡°You must mentally command the ring to open its rift, which will allow you to place or remove any item within the space. As you become more proficient with its use, you will naturally be able to employ it more fully, but for now-¡± ¡°It will do,¡± I finished, as I commanded the ring to open with a loud mental shout. Obediently, a shimmering edge of faintly distinguishable light came into being right under the chest. All I had to do was push it, and the entire chest simply slid through without any further difficulties. Hell, I could get used to this. ¡°Alright! Moving on, I want you to prioritize the strongest magical auras, followed by more spacial storage artifacts, and lastly I want you to evaluate and select the most effi-¡± ¡°The most efficient value-to-size items, right? Already way ahead of you Mommy. Follow the blinking arrow of happiness,¡± Shia gurgled, and I happily obliged. ¡°Here, hold it up so I can see it. The lower corner matches.. Yes! That¡¯s ¡°Aramark¡¯s Bulwark of the Fallen¡±, an enchanted shield granting bonuses to defense, strength and stamina. It also provides a morale boost to nearby troops who are within sight of the shield, granting them increased resistance against mind attacks and increased health, mana and stamina regeneration!¡± ¡°Wait, over there in the corner! That¡¯s the ¡°Heaven and Earth Staff of Dominance¡±. It increases your intelligence and wisdom, as well as granting an aura that aids in reducing the casting time of spells up to the 4th circle!¡± ¡°Grab all those coins! They¡¯re ancient Traylelion dynasty seals! According to Annotated History of the Western Marshlands, each one is considered a priceless historical relic, highly sought after by collectors and historians! They¡¯re worth a thousand times their weight in gold!¡± ¡°Hurry up Mommy! Dig faster! The pommel of this axe matches the description of the legendary ¡°Waraxe of Karaz-Athul¡±, which not only grants significant boosts to its wielder¡¯s strength and stamina, it also has the unique power to cast a unique spell called ¡°Path of the Slaughterer¡±. It replenishes the caster¡¯s health while draining the vitality of all enemies within a 15 feet radius!¡± In the end, I ended up with so many bags, rings, necklaces, backpacks and other assorted items of storage, that I began to simply shoulder-charge entire piles of shining valuables, directly tumbling them through the gaping rifts of several rows of storage type items opened next to each other. ¡°Mommy, you¡¯re a beast!¡± Shia clamored excitedly at the sight of such a huge pile of valuables simply vanishing into thin air. ¡°Heheh, no sweat,¡± I replied, while brushing a hand against my forehead, where countless beads of perspiration were trickling down into my eyes. ¡°No, I mean that by regular standards, a single person may only operate one, or at most two such magical storage devices. It¡¯s theorized it has something to do with the consciousness being too frail to split into separate dimensions. However, you¡¯re able to operate up to 8 of them all at the same time!¡± ¡°Heh, bullet-proof soul..¡± I wheezed, moving on to the next pile. ¡°At your service.¡± In truth, what had begun as a golden opportunity to get a real headstart in my campaign to wage war upon the gods had slowly devolved into a frenzied looting spree, madly cavorting from precious relic to priceless artifact, all the while beginning to gather a smashing headache in my temples. All the while Sharinne stood in silent vigil, her trembling fist glowing faintly with a sporadic burst of involuntary flames while her face grew paler by the minute, as I swiftly and efficiently divested her precious Hall of Relics of many of the articles it was named after. The final count by the time the last grain of sand hit the bottom was 8 storage devices of various sizes and power, 34 swords, 19 axes, 13 spears, 15 staves, 9 bows, 16 daggers, 4 crossbows, 64 armor pieces of various types and sizes, 17 shields, and countless rings, necklaces, earrings, brooches, pendants and other assorted artifacts. All the gold and gems that got sucked into the bargain, well, those were just the icing on top of the cake. With this kind of capital, I would be able to resurrect my Ghost Army from the dead. I had collected enough precious gems and gold on the side that I could afford to buy my own nation. I would resurrect the ancient Kingdom of Korendur from its ashes, or just create my own mercenary nation if it came to that. Recruiting generals would be the hardest part, for which I would need to round up the old crew. Zephyr with his peerless mind for figures and tallies would make a perfect quartermaster, if I could stick someone like Kyren to look out for the inevitable tendrils of corruption that would sprout - else they¡¯d rob the poor merchant-turned-priest blind. Yes, I had already laid quite the decent foundation for an army. I would raise the banners of a new immortal, seeking to ascend to the peak of the heavens and strike down whatever godlings stood in my way. This was only the beginning. The birth of a nation. The beginning of the end. Chapter 50 - Avernus Chapter 50 - Avernus ¡°Here¡¯s one thing I don¡¯t get,¡± I said scratching my chin, my big stupid grin still stretching my face from corner to corner. ¡°Pray tell, Lord Seth,¡± Sharinne said, her voice stiff and granite cool. After the tremendous haul I¡¯d taken away from both her Vault of Knowledge and Hall of Relics, I was still preening like a slick cat, and rightly so. Just thinking of all the things I¡¯d be able to achieve with the wealth and treasures I¡¯d acquired, a fierce flame began to burn anew within the furnace of my chest. Power would be mine, and through it, vengeance at long last. Still, I couldn¡¯t shake off a niggling feeling in the back of my head, like I¡¯d fallen right in the middle of a trap and my boot had stepped straight on top of a mine, and it was primed and ready to explode at any time. The most infuriating part of it all was, I couldn¡¯t even figure out how or why, and few deaths are as tragic as the ones where you don¡¯t even know where you gone done fucked up. Constantly assailed by this insufferable pain in the butt, I couldn¡¯t help but ask Sharinne. Perhaps she¡¯d offer some insight. Hell, maybe she was the one who had done me in somehow. Still, I couldn¡¯t just ask her something like, ¡°I¡¯m feeling like I really screwed big time, and I need you to tell me why.¡± or ¡°So, how did you manage to screw me over by letting me win?¡± So instead, I settled for a more oblique approach. ¡°Why did you just let me rob you blind?¡± Fine, so subtlety has never been my forte. Screw it. ¡°Lord Seth, there seems to be a grievous misunderstanding at work here.¡± A thin smile finally cracked the leathery surface of the wounded she-dragon¡¯s face. ¡°A robbery is defined as the crime of taking items of value through force or threat. I see no such conditions at work here, notwithstanding the unconventional means of our mutual acquaintance.¡± ¡°Damn woman,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°if that¡¯s your definition of making the ¡°acquaintance¡± of anyone, you¡¯re even crazier than I thought. Remind me to stay the fuck out of your way from now on. ¡°Beg your pardon, Lord Seth?¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°I¡¯m just starkly unsurprised at how few of your ¡®acquaintances¡¯ must survive the experience.¡± A grim chuckle echoed along the dimly lit hallways we were traversing. ¡°Indeed, and that is as it should be. For the summit is a lonely place and its heights are singularly exacting in their demands.¡± The single burning eye turned its regard upon me, and I had to force myself to calm down and not reach for one of the many newly acquired weapons I¡¯d equipped straight from the vault, ready to throw down right then and there. A single eyebrow¡¯s quirk was all the response I got for my jumpiness, and I cursed myself and the damn fool dragon for good measure. ¡°Surely, based upon your own extensive experience you must agree, Lord Seth.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know, my job¡¯s always been to crawl out of other people¡¯s shit,¡± I grumbled, again resisting the temptation to lay my hand on the pommel of the sword belted at my side. ¡°Oh, now humility; well, that I would have never expected from one such as you. You are full of surprises, Lord Seth,¡± Sharinne drawled, clearly enjoying having taken the advantage in this latest round of verbal sparring. I sucked in an annoyed mouthful of air between my teeth, pretending to ignore her reaction. ¡°As for your question, I regard this whole ordeal as a transactional enterprise, Lord Seth. Nothing more, nothing less.¡± ¡°Then you make for a piss-poor haggler,¡± I chuckled, my good mood returning to me as I stroked the storage ring on my ringer. Sharinne refrained from answering that, and the silence that ensued dropped an uncomfortable weight upon my back that I seemed unable to shake off somehow. That same feeling that I¡¯d stepped on a landmine and was about to be blown to kingdom come was there, stronger than ever. That damn lizard had only made it worse. So much for asking questions. ¡°How much farther do we have to go in this damned rabbit burrow?¡± I grumbled instead. ¡°I beg your forbearance, Lord Seth,¡± Sharinne replied softly, all hints of the overbearing pride from just a moment ago vanished as though smoke. Instead, there was a gossamer quality, a vulnerability to her tone that I¡¯d never heard from the dragoness before. ¡°The final stretch of this remarkable journey nears its end, and though I¡¯m not entirely surprised by its significance, I find myself enthralled by the grandeur lent to the final pages of this tale.¡± ¡°What tale?¡± I prompted, almost without thinking. ¡°Why, that of Sharizhassleanna, Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Flame,¡± came the whispered reply, so low that I almost didn¡¯t catch it at all. ¡°What do you mean?¡± There was no reply, as Sharinne ignored my question and simply continued to walk forward. ¡°The dragon lady is dying, Mommy,¡± came the soft whisper from Shia, and I could hear the sorrow in her voice. ¡°What? She seems to be doing just fine,¡± I scoffed, waving the ridiculous notion off. Hell, she had survived a goddamn nuke. Was I to believe she would suddenly plop dead for no apparent reason? ¡°Shia doesn¡¯t fully understand either, but her soul essence is acting strangely,¡± came the tentative reply. ¡°Is it fading?¡± ¡°No, just the opposite in fact. It is growing more fierce and intense.¡± ¡°There we go then, she¡¯s probably planning on backstabbing us again to snatch all her stuff back, treacherous little bitch,¡± I growled, but Shia did not deign that with a response and in all honesty, not even I believed it. Still, now that Shia had mentioned it, I couldn¡¯t help but notice a familiarity with the way Sharinne carried herself. At the beginning of our journey through these tunnels, she had been more herself, willing to fight and feel indignant of the apparent affront inflicted upon the reserves and dignity of her clan. However, the further we advanced into the journey, I could see the lines of tension and worry easing away, peeling back like the petals of a flower. What lay underneath was a purity of purpose, a singular will that would not be denied, and neither would it bow beneath any other lesser considerations. I could now grasp at the hint of what she had said. Perhaps wealth and relics, they were all mere tools, means to an end. What did they all matter when the true end of one¡¯s existence lay at hand? Had the dragon finally made peace with the last vestiges of her life? But, she wasn¡¯t dying. Clearly, her wounds, severe as though they were, did little to hamper her functions.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. More than once, I was tempted to demand answers to all these questions, at least insofar as they affected Sol and thus my own immediate future. However, I could tell by her bearing that Sharinne was done speaking, at least for now. Thus, it was in a somber, dignified silence that we finally arrived at a grand gate that stretched high above. Sharinne waved her hand in front of it, activating a series of lights that cascaded forth from the center and across the whole length of the gate. With a rumbling sound, the gates smoothly drew back and Sharinne stepped forward without any further ado. I followed, still unable to shake off that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I reached somewhat tentatively towards my soul power, and found that it was still thin and strained, not having had enough time to recover. Still, my hand found the hilt of the sword I¡¯d hung from my belt, and its reassuring buzz of magic was enough to bring some semblance of calm as I stepped forward through the gate. What awaited me was the largest vault yet by far, the size of which would have been impossible to guess at from the size of the gate I had just crossed. It could easily be the size of ten stadiums combined, and every inch of it glowed with an ethereal green glimmer that sparkled against a smooth dome overhead seemingly carved out of a mysterious opaque crystal. At the very center stood a huge ring of multi-colored light, easily a hundred feet across, that seemed to buzz faintly with power, even from this distance. Oh, and there was one more thing waiting for me. I didn¡¯t know if it was good or bad, but what the hell, I¡¯d take it. ¡°I bid thee welcome to the Gate of the Crimson Flame, Lord Seth,¡± Sharinne chanted in a ceremonial manner. ¡°Now pray state your purpose.¡± ¡°Are the theatrics really necessary? You know why I¡¯m here. Hell, you begged for me to come and fetch Sol,¡± I muttered, shrugging carelessly. ¡°Now lets get this show on the road so I can get the hell out and back home for dinner. I¡¯ll even take back the bag of fleas.¡± The Keeper of the Shrine of the Crimson Flame didn¡¯t so much as bat an eyelid at my unconventional response. Neither did Reaver, as the giant mutt got up from where it sat on its haunches and slowly, almost lazily padded towards my side. The damn mutt even had the temerity to throw me a long suffering glance as if to say, ¡°About time you got here.¡± ¡°Yeah, good to see you too, you damn mutt,¡± I muttered. A somewhat lackluster bark was the only response I got. ¡°Reaver! I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re back! Who¡¯s a good boy now? Who¡¯s a good boy?¡± came Shia''s joyful cry. To my chagrin, a much more enthusiastic series of barks followed, and the damn mutt even began to wag its tail uncontrollably. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Little traitor.¡± ¡°Step forth then, Soul Keeper, and summon thy intended!¡± Sharinne cried out loudly. Eh? I didn¡¯t like the sound of this, but at this point I was past caring and simply wanted this whole ordeal over with as soon as possible. I couldn¡¯t well stop the whole thing over ritualistic semantics, could I? ¡°Sol, get your ass out here before I lose my temper again,¡± I shouted in the direction of the gate. Now, I¡¯ll be the first to admit that I¡¯m no silly spellcasting twit. Hell, part of the reason why I chose the scholar class was because I couldn¡¯t bear the thought of waving a magic wand while babbling forth an embarrassing string of nonsense. Still, I could not deny that from the very first word I could feel the air tremble with barely contained power that kept on building as I continued with my sentence. Sharinne hadn¡¯t bothered to explain what I needed to do in order to save Sol, but given that I¡¯d pretty much become an epic badass at casting soul magic out of my ass to save my life on more than one occasion already, perhaps she felt further instruction was unnecessary. Indeed, I might not have the knack for arcane crap, but the soul magicker gig fit me like as snugly as the carbonite fiber armor I¡¯d had custom built for my special forces missions, back home. And damn, that thing was tight! By the time I finished speaking, I instinctively pushed forth an effort of will that left me light-headed once more, but at least I didn¡¯t wobble on my feet as I watched the gate in the center of the chamber light up with a blinding - can you guess it? - crimson light. A rush of wind began to sweep across the hall, howling in my ears and ruffling all of Reaver¡¯s fur. The magical beast¡¯s eyes began to glow brightly as it gazed unwaveringly at the gate. Currents of power could be see arcing through its structure as the crimson light solidified into a thick red mist that spread outward from the center. It pulsed with a beat of its own, and the mist expanded, then contracted as though it were a living, breathing being. I must admit, it would have been fairly spectacular if it hadn¡¯t been so damn creepy. ¡°Sharinne, where is that brat?¡± The dragoness simply shook her head lightly, as though she couldn¡¯t quite believe it even though she was seeing it with her own two, er, scratch that, single remaining eye. ¡°Two hundred years of accumulated soul power at the very least,¡± She murmured, as though to herself. ¡°And yet you achieve it with a single command of your soul. Is that the might of the Keeper of Souls, or is it the power you yourself wield, Lord Seth?¡± Keeper of Souls? Why did I constantly keep getting more titles I did not have the foggiest clue about? And in truth, this latest title I¡¯d been pegged with made me more uncomfortable than being the Devourer of Souls. I have a very poor track record, you understand, of keeping things. I¡¯m more of the kind that devours, burns, breaks, so on and so forth. ¡°Here is where we lie at a crossroads, Lord Seth, and I set your doom upon you to choose,¡± Sharinne finished, and though the words sounded like she was finally fucking me over like I¡¯d been expecting the whole time, her tone was one of reconciliation, and hell, perhaps even entreaty. ¡°Figures¡± I grumbled, somewhat unsurprised that my gut instinct had once again hit the mark, much to my dismay. ¡°What¡¯s the damage?¡± Sharinne bowed low as her hand gestured in front of her, and upon the Gate a vision gradually began to take shape. It was that of a person, and though at first I¡¯d hoped it would be Sol, soon the image grew distinct enough that I could tell it was a powerfully built man instead. *** ¡°Avernus,¡± came the whisper from the wind, bringing with it the smell of rot and decay. Instantly, Avernus rose from his throne where he had been seated and smoothy knelt on the floor, his head bowed down. The motion was precise and graceful, which was surprising given the rippling mass of powerfully corded muscles that gleamed across the naked chest of this towering colossus. ¡°My lady,¡± came the low, succinct reply from his lips, not daring to say any more. ¡°A tremor in the weave of my Grand Tapestry has arisen. Locate and dispose of the nuisance.¡± A mere two sentences, casually and soft-spoken by his mistress, yet with every word the very walls of his personal Inner Sanctum shook and quaked as though they might crumble into dust. Sweat beaded the brow of Avernus, God of Infernum and Lord of the Chaos Gates, as he dared not tarry and instead bowed low until his brow touched the ground beneath his feet. ¡°I hear and obey, my lady. Your will shall be done.¡± *** As I continued to gape at the incongruous image of the mighty man kneeling down in such absolute obsequiousness, he slowly began to rise to his feet. Though his massive shoulders gave the illusion that he was not very tall, as he smoothly uncoiled to his feet I could instantly tell he was at least seven feet in height. Nor was he simply a giant. His motions were smooth and graceful, with an economy and efficiency of movement that told me this was a powerful warrior, a being born to do war and do it well. He would be the bane of any foes foolish enough to face him in battle. Motes of light began to gather and circle around the man¡¯s body as he rose, swiftly solidifying into a glowing layer of incandescent light. By the time the man rose to his feet and walked a few steps, the light had died down to leave a spectacular set of baroque armor covering every inch of the man, except for his head. Long locks of flaming red hair began to flutter in the air as though to an invisible pressure that rose from the man¡¯s body, only to burst into incandescent fire as he reached out into the space before him and grasped a glowing hilt that materialized out of thin air. As Avernus pulled on the hilt, a shimmering sheet of translucent red crystal was revealed. It expanded until finally a massive two-handed sword lay in the giant¡¯s grasp, with eager crimson flames licking all along its length. This colossal sword, the giant easily lifted with one hand, holding it tall before him. ¡°Scieross, I summon thee,¡± Avernus cried out loudly, his thick voice sending violent ripples across the image. Moments later, a long howl answered, and a massive shape could be seen swiftly growing larger behind Avernus¡¯ back. The winged silhouette could not be mistaken for anything other than a huge dragon starkly silhouetted against the sky. Finally, Avernus turned his gaze to look straight in Sharinne¡¯s direction. ¡°Seeress, you presume far too much. Let this be the first toll this deity shall exact from your insolent flesh.¡± The sudden words seemed to shock Sharinne as much as me. Immediately, Avernus reached out with his hand in our direction, and made a simple plucking motion. Thunderous crashes exploded across the chamber as blood splattered onto the sizzling gate, and the image began to tremble violently before collapsing altogether, its edges crumpling like sheet glass into fine powder. The last image shown through the gate was that of Avernus sneering coldly in our direction while his hand held a single bloody eye clutched in its grasp. As the image died, the fist mercilessly crushed the globe held within, erupting into a gory splash of fluids and flame. Sharinne screamed in agony, and my breath caught in my throat as I turned to see that the Seeress now truly had only one eye left, as in the center of her forehead only a gaping hole weeping blood lay vacant and staring back at me. ¡°I come for you, Seeress. Thy time is done.¡± Avernus¡¯ grim voice echoed across the dome, and for the first time in a long time, my heart lay choking as it whispered that the enemy I could not possibly beat had finally come knocking upon the gates. Chapter 51 - Do You Believe in Me? Chapter 51 - Do You Believe in Me? ¡°Such a foe cannot be beaten,¡± Sharinne forestalled my words. ¡°It is the Lord of Infernum, Tyrant of the Chaos Gates. He is not one a mere mortal can match, not even for one such as you, Devourer of Souls.¡± I opened my mouth in a defiant snarl, but Sharinne lifted a wearied hand in my direction in a pacifying gesture. ¡°At least, not yet,¡± she finished. I closed my mouth as I was forced to recognize I could not even properly comprehend the kind of power the mysterious god had wielded, let alone devise proper countermeasures. At the very least, not until my soul power was fully charged. Maybe then, and that was a big maybe, I would be able to drill a nuke up his uppity ass as well. Sharinne must have read some of this in my expression, because she shook her head sadly. ¡°Lord Seth, you must understand. This soul construct lies at the brink of collapse. The power of the Crimson Soulgate is nearly spent, and shall not flourish again until a thousand years have passed.¡± ¡°What are you talking about? Didn¡¯t you say you¡¯d resurrect Sol within two hundred years, even without my aid?¡± ¡°Indeed, but such an undertaking is beyond my hands now. The last essence of this Soulgate has been channeled into the reforging of Sol¡¯s soul. Thanks to the power of your will, such a process has been hastened to an unprecedented degree.¡± ¡°Then why would you fuck us all over by peeping on that badass bastard?¡± I demanded, shaking my fist at her. Sharinne only smiled tragically in my direction. ¡°Lord Seth, I have known since our fight was ended that my life would be at an end shortly. I also divined that forces beyond the scope of your comprehension would shatter everything our clan had endeavored to nourish and protect for untold thousands of years. Please do not presume to think I made any decision regarding this matter lightly.¡± That took me back a step. Did she mean she had known all this would happen? ¡°Then your eye..?¡± Sharinne¡¯s expression turned bitter as she liften a hand to her forehead, which lay bleeding still. ¡°It is of no consequence, Lord Seth. The wheels of fate had been set into motion from the moment you walked into the Labyrinth of Souls. No, perhaps even earlier than that.¡± Sharinne¡¯s sole remaining eye seemed to glimmer with sympathy towards me, and watching this sad, crippled creature actually feeling sorry for me was just scary as hell, I must admit. ¡°Doom stalks your every step, Lord Seth, and though you know it not, your every action prompts an equal reaction on the grand cosmic scale.¡± Sharinne lifted another hand to forestall my question. ¡°I know not why your fate is so inextricably linked to the central loom of fate which governs our universe, and I feel at peace in such ignorance, for the little which I already know of your future already drives a chill into my soul which not even the fires of dragonkind are able to ablate.¡± ¡°Story of my life,¡± I muttered. ¡°At least tell me what the hell is going on. Who is this Avernus?¡± ¡°Prince of Chaos, he, Warrior of the Hellhost, God of the Infernum. Many worlds he has subjugated under his ruthless fist, and more yet to come. Still, he answers faithfully to only one mistress, she whose name shall not be uttered.¡± From this last bit I could tell Sharinne would be pigheaded about the topic of the mystery boss lady, so I skipped right to the practical bits. ¡°What are his powers? How about his weaknesses? How soon can he get here, and what can we defend ourselves with?¡± ¡°Wielder of the Chaos Sword, Champion of the Infernum Hosts, Victor of the Infinite Arena. His might cannot be matched by mere mortal strength, nor his sole weakness exploited by human cunning.¡± ¡°Stop speaking in riddles, damn you! This involves both you and Sol¡¯s lives!¡± ¡°A balance must be struck, Lord Seth. It is the gentlest of winds driving forward the divine sail, so that the vessels of the future might sail where we have not trod. Stronger winds might impel stronger actions, yet in the end tear delicate sails asunder and spell our doom.¡± I grunted as I threw my hands up in frustration. ¡°Rest assured, Lord Seth. A single path I have seen, where a balance may be struck for life, that of you and your companions.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s the price?¡± I glared at the Seeress. Sharinne let a small, bitter smile stretch her lips as she laid a hand upon her own chest. I could hear Shia¡¯s sharp indrawn breath at the same time as I felt a rock sink in the pit of my stomach. Betrayal, I could stomach just fine. After all, I was used to it. Sacrifice, especially that of others for my sake, this tasted far fouler to me. I hated owing anyone, for anything. And a debt like this could simply not be repaid, even if the main recipient was Sol instead of me. My gaze, however, lost much of its heat and impatience as my chest let out a deep sigh, thinking of everything that had transpired thus far. ¡°The vaults of knowledge and relics, the time you gave us, your pace along the endless corridors, it was all planned.¡± Sharinne smiled appreciatively. ¡°I see you understand. Yes, Lord Seth. I have seen this future a thousand times. We have battled, you and I, many times over. In each a different result, down infinite paths. And yet, struggle as I might, I have been unable to avoid this single decision which ultimately is not mine to make at all, but rather lies at your feet.¡± Sharinne nodded towards the Soulgate, still cascading with shimmering layers of power. ¡°Therein lies Sol, final Champion of the Crimson Flame, sole heir and hope of my clan. Companion of the Keeper of Souls.¡± ¡°Also therein, you shall find the soul of one Keeper of the Soulbound, Artificium Magnus of the ninth order, Codex of the All-seeing and First Key of the Fatesealer.¡± Feeling like I¡¯d been thunderstruck, my fingers went numb and my hairs stood on end as I gazed deep into the eyes of Sharinne, Seeress of the Crimson Flame, and found no untruth in her words.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Shia..¡± I whispered, disbelieving. Sharinne closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath as she tilted her head back. ¡°Indeed, the one you have come to know as Shia.¡± ¡°What happens if I choose Shia?¡± I whispered. ¡°Mommy, no! You can¡¯t!¡± Shia cried out, but my gaze remained fixed upon the dragon prophetess. ¡°My oaths bind me to tell no untruth, and thus I shall speak with candor, Lord Seth,¡± Sharinne responded, her eyes still closed but her words swift and firm as though she had the whole speech rehearsed ahead of time. ¡°Shia is currently damaged almost beyond belief. That she has been able to evolve to such an extent in your possession is a testament to the power of your will and the strength of your bond. However, should you recover Shia¡¯s true soul, the effect would be an unimaginable magnification of her powers, both in scope and depth. This is the Artificium Magnus, a masterpiece of the ninth order. With her powers unbound and aiding you, your wildest ambitions and fantasies may come within the grasp of your fingers. You would gain complete mastery over your soul powers, and beyond that, dominion over the realms of the All-seeing and the first key to unleashing the Seals of Fate.¡± ¡°Mommy, Sol needs us,¡± Shia whimpered. ¡°What if I choose Sol? How will she aid my cause?¡± Sharinne spread her hands in a helpless gesture. ¡°She is young and untrained. Her potential lies largely untapped. Though her talent is the most outstanding our clan has seen, perhaps ever, she is still mortal, still bound by the chains of causality. She may grow into a loyal companion to the Keeper of Souls, a bulwark against your foes and a blade against the Endtide.¡± ¡°May?¡± ¡°She¡¯s no Artificium Magnus, if that is what you are asking, Lord Seth. She¡¯s a girl who will need careful guidance and attention. An unknown variable, as all living, sentient beings are.¡± I frowned at this. ¡°You don¡¯t do a very good job of representing your own interests, Keeper.¡± Sharinne lifted a corner of her mouth in a sad, self-mocking smile. ¡°I did not choose my powers, Lord Seth, and neither do I discriminate in my burdens. I am bound to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.¡± I closed my eyes, sighing deeply as I thought of all of what I had sworn to achieve. Vengeance against those who had destroyed my world. One last melody of madness and death in honor of my Sophia. Surely, surely she would forgive me this one small betrayal so that I may sing that song, then be buried alongside her memory? The enemy lay so close, yet so far from my reach. When would I ever have an opportunity such as this? The temptation of power so absolute at so instant a price? Surely, it would damn my soul, but it was already damned. What mattered another soul or two added to this gruesome tally? Especially when it was most likely a simple electronic copy of someone¡¯s brain. It shouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t be a real, live person. Could it? Was Sol alive? Would it matter if I sacrificed her for the sake of my revenge? And ultimately, did I care enough? I had tread upon countless lives to walk the blood-soaked path I now stood upon. I needed my revenge. It was all that sustained me. Sol, she would be fine. If not, then it was simply another black mark on my heart, weighed out across the countless other scars branded upon it. ¡°Mommy, please, you can¡¯t abandon Sol,¡± Shia cried out mournfully. Yes, I could. You just never knew me well enough, Shia. ¡°I believe in you,¡± Shia whispered, soft like a fading dream. You shouldn''t. You can''t, came the automatic reply from the darkest depths of my heart. ¡°Do you believe in me?¡± She finished, pure and strong like the breath of new spring. I rocked back in my feet, feeling as though I¡¯d been absolutely floored. When was the last time someone else had believed in me? Who had last said those words? ¡°I believe in you, Michael Lee..¡± No, don¡¯t. You can¡¯t. No one should. No one can. ¡°Do you believe in me?¡± Oh Sophia. My heart suddenly threatened to explode in my chest. Those had been the words, her words that would never fail to bring forth the impossible, the unbelievable from me, one Michael Lee. My Sophia. Miracles were possible, not because I believed in them, but because I believed in the one person in whom I had absolute faith. The one person who would never let me down, and whose faith I could never bear to betray. Sophia, what would you want me to do? That, at the very least, was obvious. Such a stupid question. With all that had been going on in my life lately, I had forgotten the reason why I never asked that last question anymore. Because the answer was always unequivocal, and it would always, always win in the end. ¡°Shia,¡± I whispered. ¡°M.. Mommy?¡± ¡°Forgive me..¡± ¡°No Mommy, we must help..!¡± Smiling bitterly, I raised my hand towards the Soulgate and screamed out my decision before I could change my mind. ¡°Soledad, come back to me!¡± Sharinne¡¯s eyes went wide and maybe this whole thing would have been worth it just to see that expression on her dumb mug. She looked like I¡¯d clubbed her on the head with a mangy goat¡¯s hairy ballsack, she looked so astonished for a long moment. Then she no longer had time to do anything else as the Soulgate finally exploded in one cascading shower of lights and a familiar face finally began to emerge from the crimson depths of the soulgate. ¡°Thank you, Mommy..¡± Shia whispered tearfully in my ear, and I had to wonder at the fact that my daughter could be so selfless when I was such a greedy, selfish bastard. Guess sometimes you¡¯re just lucky like that. ¡°Thank you, Shia,¡± I whispered, and a rare smile of unadulterated gratitude lit up my face. *TTRIING!*
    System Alert: Your Soul Guardian has gained a new matrix crystal!
    Your words and actions have reached the Soul Guardian¡¯s innermost heart and nurtured one of its deepest, most treasured values, irrevocably evolving its very nature. It will forever remember this lesson. Matrix crystals: 2/2. Core Matrix crystals: 0/1.
    *TTRIING!*
    System Alert: Your Soul Guardian has fulfilled the requirements to evolve a Core Matrix crystal.
    Would you like to evolve now?
    YES NO
    Staring numbly at the notification before me, I pressed YES. A blinding surge of light burst forth. ¡°Mommy..¡± Little did I know, it was the last time I would hear that call. Interlude II - The Promise Interlude II - The Promise Gossamer dreams fly away on wings stolen from an angel¡¯s breath. This breath grows fainter by the second as he holds her broken body in his arms. The tears are gone, banished by grief that runs too deep and too dry to summon even this last refuge of despair. Only red flows now. Rivulets of it tentatively scrawl a child¡¯s scribble on the floor, careless of the tragic story it tells. The walls are studded with its pearls, translucent and vivid, glittering like eyes refusing to blink as they stare at the last pages of this, their life. Their death. It trickles down his face, caressing his skin with the same warm touch as her fingers always had, and still would, if only she could muster the strength to lift her bloodless hand. A dash of it leaks from her lips, spreading a blush of scarlet against her ghost pale skin, leeching the last of what little warmth its dwindling reservoirs contain. At this moment, faced with the end of life, of the world, of everything, only one word escapes his lips. ¡°Why?¡± A shadow rustles fleetingly behind her eyes, complex like the moon reflected on the ripples of a never ending song, before the familiar calm returns once more. Her lips tremble as they shape words, yet no sounds come out. Still, he hears the words as though she¡¯s whispered them in his ear. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± The hand supporting her back tightens as he draws her closer to his embrace, as though fervently praying that he could drown in the endlessness of her eyes instead of the blood mercilessly pumping from the cruel tear in her chest. There, his other hand lies limp in defeat and abject horror, still nervelessly curled around the pommel of the blade biting deeply into her yielding flesh.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Still, only one word can take shape on his lips. It escapes as the howl of a wounded beast. ¡°Why?¡± Again, the flicker of the dark deep, the immeasurable and profound, yet banished all the same by the suffused starlight pouring out endlessly from her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He shakes his head, refusing to believe, to see or hear. Nothing will be the same, everything has been taken from him. What use are words now? Why should he demand reason or logic? There is only this day, this one moment in which everything has come to a sudden, heart-rending end. Finality in its ultimate form, come calling upon the wings of an angel¡¯s last whisper. His angel. He knows what she wants, what she needs. No matter that he does not understand, let alone even care for what must follow. For he knows already he cannot endure. All his wounds and misery, the endless battles and constant struggle, none of it could ever shake him, but she has broken him so utterly and so completely that he knows it is over. This is the end. Yet her eyes demand of him, not forgiveness in the words of now, but rather the promise of tomorrow. How dare she ask this of him? ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Yet, how could he refuse her final words, thrice spoken with the very last of her breath before being snatched by the cold, indifferent wind? Her hands lie limp on the floor, her heart stutters as it struggles mightily for one last beat, then another one, and one more after. Her chest no longer moves, her lungs already flooded with precious blood, more of it leaking down the corner of her lips. Still, she refuses to let go. Her eyes never lose that same serenity that had always fascinated him so, even underneath all the sorrow and regret lurking within. How could she ask this of him? Yet, how could he deny her? ¡°Yes.¡± This one word was soft, but so painful it died almost in the instant it left his lips. It was no mere absolution, no simple forgiveness. For between two souls and a love that never dies, such words would be an empty gesture. It hurt, this lone word, and it would only continue to hurt more because of the promise it implied and the endless days it solemnly ushered in, slave to a fate he would hate more than mere existence itself. This was his death and his doom. This was his final promise. For her. Chapter 52 - Shia 2.0 Chapter 52 - Shia 2.0 Five circles of runes intricately carved on the back of my left hand blazed with white fire, burning in my vision until everything else faded from the world. As though liquid silver were pulsing along every line and curve of the glyphs etched on my skin, they seemed alive and moving with purpose. The complicated designs grew even more so, until the patterns were a dizzying array that gave me a headache just from staring at it. Intense as the light was, it wasn¡¯t blinding. Instead, within the blaze of this arcane script, I could see the glimmers of a pattern. Following the lines of this pattern, an image began to take shape within my mind. My brain automatically began tracing the contours of this figure, and it took me only a half second to realize why it was so easy for my subconscious to trace these lines. They were, after all, features I was most familiar with. I saw them every night, deep in the recesses of my deepest nightmares. They even haunted my every waking step, calling out to me during the daydreams of a battered yesterday. Long raven locks that fell to the middle of her back. Warm eyes that shimmered with an otherworldly grey light, always hinting at mysteries that would never be solved. Soft lips from which I had plucked the sweetest of fruits. The proud arc of her neck and the gentle slope of her breasts, both perdition and deliverance in one perfect symphony. It floored me. This sudden, unexpected glimpse of her blasted the breath from my lungs, singed all thought from my brain. Lovesick fool, me? No, not I. The conqueror of a thousand battlefields, the jaded murderer of countless victims, the killer of dreams and plunderer of all hope. It was no mere case of a man drunk on love. No, instead I had been poisoned, and she was both the ultimate vice and my sole redeeming virtue. Sophia. Even here, even now, her memory would never leave me. Would she forever accompany me, even on this lonely road to damnation? If so, surely hell would shatter from the luminous presence of this one angel. Or would even her memory be damned, doomed to fall from the skies like a shooting star, blazing in its glory yet tragic in its impending doom. All because she stubbornly refused to leave my side, because she kept me company and walked side by side with the devil. Just as in life, will even your shadow die because of me? This last thought shook me out of my stupor, and I blinked to clear my vision. It lasted only for the space of a single long breath, but when the light finally faded and the dark lines of complex script blazoned on the back of my hand finally settled down, I could see a further line surrounding each of the five circles on the back of my hand. ¡°Shia?¡± I asked, somewhat hesitantly, unsure of what changes might have been wrought to my reluctantly adopted daughter. ¡°Everything alright?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± I asked dubiously. ¡°Perfectly fine. In fact, I couldn¡¯t feel better, dad.¡± Came the easy reply, casual yet brimming with barely contained excitement. ¡°Phew, that¡¯s good,¡± I sighed in relief, then I realized what Shia had just called me. ¡°Dad?¡± I echoed, disbelieving. ¡°Mm-hmm,¡± Shia hummed. Scratching my head, I peered cautiously at the newly carved glyphs on the back of my hand, wondering if maybe I was hearing things. ¡°What happened to Mommy?¡± ¡°Whatever do you mean, dad?¡± ¡°You used to call me Mommy, remember?¡± ¡°I recall no such thing,¡± came the prim reply. I did my best not to gawk, and failed miserably. ¡°What do you mean-? Clearly you were-¡± I spluttered in outrage. ¡°Confused gender issues, dad? Afraid I can¡¯t help with that - not that I¡¯d even want to mess around with that kind of thing,¡± came the easy laughter from Shia. I frowned in thought. Shia definitely sounded different. Older, more mature, having lost some of that childish exuberance and innocence. Maybe even with an edge of wit and sarcasm that slightly reminded me of, well, myself. And clearly lying out of her ass without an ounce of compunction. After opening my mouth, I swiftly closed it again. Why was I fighting so hard for Shia to call me something I had hated all this time? Well, maybe it had gotten somewhat endearing with time and there was a small corner of my mind that felt puzzled at the sense of loss. I shook it off. More important stuff to do right now. ¡°So, what can you help with?¡± I asked simply. ¡°Sky¡¯s the limit, dad. Sky¡¯s the limit,¡± came the easy laugh once more, but this time bubbling with barely contained enthusiasm. *TTIRRRING*
    Congratulations! Your Soul Guardian has successfully evolved!
    You have become a first echelon Soulbound. You have unlocked the topic ¡°Knowledge: Rumours of the Artificium Magnus.¡± You have unlocked the following innate abilities from your Soul Guardian: Acolyte Soul Artificer Spark of Soulfire Through the evolution of your Soul Guardian and its matrix crystals, you have gained the following abilities: Heroic Blaze Soulburn
    Can anyone say jackpot? Hell yah! "Information on Knowledge: Rumours of the Artificium Magnus." *TTIRRRING*
    Knowledge: Rumours of the Artificium Magnus.
    Birthed from chaos, forged at the dawn of time, the Artificium Magnus was the beginning and culmination of the art of creation at its simplest, purest, and most exalted form. Legend claims it was lost towards the end of the first Great War of the Gods, during which it was used to unleash a ritual of such magnitude, it tore the very fabric of reality asunder and greatly damaged the artifact itself. As you continue unlocking further knowledge from the artifact, more features and abilities will become available.
    I shook my head, astonished. I''d long suspected that Shia must be an artifact of immense magical power, but apparently I didn''t even have the foggiest idea of just what magnitude of power she was capable of. The term "Artificium Magnus" had been nothing but undescypherable noise until now, but I''d assumed she had been crafted by some wrinkly old man in the depths of his home laboratory. Now it turned out that Shia could potentially be as old as creation itself? I simply found it mind-jarring to match the image of the sweet little glutton I had adopted as a daughter to an all-powerful artifact that had existed as long as this universe had. Feeling as though a great burden of responsability had suddenly shifted onto my shoulders for some reason, I resolutely soldiered on. "Information on innate ability: Acolyte Soul Artificer." *TTIRRRING*
    Innate Ability: Acolyte Soul Artificer
    The Artificium Magnus grants you access to Soul Forges. You have gained command over five Soul Forges. Each Soul Forge may absorb the soul essence of an enemy vanquished by you. You may use these captured souls in conjunction with Soulbound abilities you unlock. Further knowledge of Soul Forges or higher ranks of the skill: Soul Artificer may unlock more abilities.
    I quickly lowered my gaze to the five intrincate circles of runes on the back of my left hand. These must be the five soul forges. I could still see a faint glow within each circle, and I instinctively knew these must be the souls I''d absorbed from my vanquished foes. My pulse quickened as I could feel a distinct connection to each of these circles that had not been there before.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. With a flicker of intent, bits of information quickly entered my mind regarding each of the souls currently contained within each Soul Forge.
    Soul Forge - Fortis
    Whisp of human soldier. Rank: Private Soul Integrity: 2% Skills: Basic PA Training.
    Soul Forge - Axiom
    Whisp of human soldier. Rank: Specialist Soul Integrity: 8% Skills: Firearm proficiency.
    Soul Forge - Lumina
    Whisp of human soldier. Rank: Sergeant Soul Integrity: 14% Skills: Drill Instruction.
    Soul Forge - Veritas
    Whisp of human soldier. Rank: Captain Soul Integrity: 19% Skills: Inspired Command
    Soul Forge - Sanctus
    Whisp of human soldier. Rank: Private Soul Integrity: 25% Skills: -
    Five Soul Forges, yet the souls were merely whisps. Was that an indication of the quality or the current state of the soul contained within? I was more inclined to side with the former, since the current state of the soul would probably be closer to the Soul Integrity value. This was shockingly low, and I had to wonder why they were so decayed. As for the skills, I had to wonder if I could use the skills at any moment or I had to actively burn the soul to use its skill. This definitely warranted experimentation later on. "Information on innate ability: Spark of Soulfire." *TTIRRRING*
    Innate Ability: Spark of Soulfire
    At the dawn of time, there was only the void, and then the fire. When reality was conceived and the universe took its first giant breath, it is said this was the fire of creation. The Elder Gods would later reverently come to call this primordial flame the Soulfire. All records of Soulfire have since disappeared, purged from the annals of history and its very mention taboo of the highest order. You have gained the Spark of Soulfire. Soulfire ignites upon the very core of all matter, burning through reality until the origin void is all that is left in its wake. Spark of Soulfire has infused two new matrix crystals to produce two new ablities: Heroic Blaze Soulburn Further knowledge of Soulfire or higher ranks of the skill: Spark of Soulfire may unlock more abilities.
    I had to wonder as to whether this Soulfire was different from the dark flames I had seen when absorbing souls before. Since I had just now unlocked it, I had to assume it was. However, so far there seemed to be no direct way of summoning this Soulfire. "Information on ability: Heroic Blaze." *TTIRRRING*
    Ability: Heroic Blaze
    Through great sacrifice, comes greater strength. Upgraded version of Flame of the Soulbound. You may ignite the soul essence contained within a Soul Forge in order to gain a direct boost to your own stats. Different souls will have different effects. Several Soul Forges may be combined and activated in unison in order to enhance the effect, at the cost of increased strain upon the Soulbound¡¯s own soul. Heroic Blaze also has a small chance of permanently learning a skill at the cost of fully igniting and consuming the soul essence within a Soul Forge. Further knowledge of Soulfire or higher ranks of the ability: Heroic Blaze may unlock more abilities.
    I couldn''t help but smile at this upgraded version of the ability that had saved my life, back in that stinking alley when I had faced the two assassins who almost had me. I had a great fondness from recalling the Overkill skill which I had used to great effect several times. Now, it seemed as though I would be able have a chance to permanently learn a skill though in so doing I would have to sacrifice the soul I learned it from. Skills were like an arsenal of weapons, and one could never have enough of those. As I thought of all the souls and skills I would be able to learn and the sheer possiblities this presented, my blood began to burn with anticipation. "Information on ability: Soulburn." *TTIRRRING*
    Ability: Soulburn
    When you cleave, cleave simply, cleave truly, cleave but once. Attacks may be empowered by Soulfire at great cost to the Soulbound¡¯s own soul essence. Empowered attacks inflict Soulburn damage, inflicting severe damage to the target¡¯s soul essence. Use with caution: Soul essence damage is extremely difficult to restore. Further knowledge of Soulfire or higher ranks of the ability: Heroic Blaze may unlock more abilities.
    Save the best for last, I suppose. Although the other skills had great potential, they would build up slowly and accumulate momentum. This last ability, however, was right along my alley. Burn my own soul to devastate my enemy''s? Hell yeah, bring it on! All the windows brought on a massive headache, but the roaring of a great fire within my chest sent a surge of adrenaline up my spine. I hadn¡¯t imagined Shia¡¯s newest upgrade would bring on so many benefits. Thinking back to that dark flame I had absorbed from the bodies of the people I¡¯d killed, I had to wonder just how this Spark of Soulfire would be different. After all, a primordial flame which had earned the respect of the gods themselves sounded pretty badass, and after the whole nuke fiasco I was all set to try this, my newest toy out. ¡°Dad,¡± came a helpless cry from Shia. ¡°DAD!¡± ¡°What?¡± I blinked, furrowing my eyebrows as my fantasies of burning the whole world to the ground and returning it to a nice, pleasantly empty void popped like a burst bubble as Shia¡¯s call snapped me out of my dreams of mayhem and destruction. ¡°You were doing it again,¡± Shia sighed. ¡°Giggling to yourself with that creepy grin on your face. You were daydreaming about torching this whole place to the ground, weren¡¯t you?¡± I could feel a guilty flush rising up my neck, but hell if I¡¯d ever admit it. When had Shia become so proficient at reading me, anyhow? ¡°Ahem, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about. I was merely assessing our upgraded combat capabilities in order to deal with the new, impending threat in as swift and efficient a manner as possible.¡± I was inordinately proud that I didn¡¯t bat so much as an eyelid as I spewed forth that gigantic pile of bullcrap. ¡°Uh-huh, sure, yeah.¡± You could practically hear the roll of the eyes in that response. Not deigning to grace that with a reply, I opted for misdirection instead. ¡°Looks like that damn useless kid is finally back in action,¡± I muttered, flicking my head towards the still churning depths of the Soul Gate. That finally shut her up. The time I¡¯d taken to go through all the information windows could not have been more than a handful of seconds, and the gate had been building up in power this whole time. Now, a curtain of shimmering light finally burst into being as Sol¡¯s silhouette gained texture and solidified into the familiar shape of the runny-nosed, helpless child I¡¯d gone through all this trouble for. Sol emerged from the Soulgate, stumbling forward on unsteady feet, naked as the day he was born. Or rather, she. Now that she wore not a single stitch of clothes, I could finally tell that Sol was definitely a she. Gazing at her sun-streaked cheeks and huge golden eyes, I couldn¡¯t believe I had truly mistaken her for a boy this entire time. Now that the little street urchin was finally free of the perpetual layer of grime and dirt she had used to disguise herself this entire time, I had to admit she was simply stunning. Bold strokes of fiery red hair framed full cheeks lightly dusted with freckles. Huge almond eyes held glittering orbs of pure gold within, perfectly complemented by a strong nose that sung of valor and spirit. Vivacious lips that were just a touch under what one might consider overfull added the final touches, setting the tone for a beauty that would light any man¡¯s blood on fire when she finally bloomed into her full splendor. Just how had I missed all these details? It couldn¡¯t be explained away as simple carelessness on my part. Something else was going on. Glancing at the rest of her body, I frowned as I noticed a marked difference in the proportion of her, ahem, feminine charms. I had slept next to, fought against, even carried this girl on my shoulder, yet no amount of concealment could justify the sudden and unexpected swell of her breasts nor the fullness of her hips. Before, her stick-thin figure could have easily been mistaken for a ten or even nine year old¡¯s. Now, however, there was definitely no question this was a girl who was fully blooming into adulthood, fifteen or sixteen at the very least. Her height, the width of her shoulders, the length of her legs, everything had gotten bigger. Not least, I once again had to note, her.. ¡°Dad, will you stop oogling at Sol¡¯s boobs already?¡± Shia cried out in outrage, sounding shocked and disgusted at the same time. ¡°God, I can¡¯t believe you were such a pervert!¡± I stumbled on my feet, jerking my gaze away and staring fixedly at a great big patch of nothing to my left for a couple seconds before coughing uncomfortably to clear my throat. Great thinker on my feet, that¡¯s me. ¡°Ahem, what? What, no, I needed to reassess the combat capabilities of an integral member of our fireteam so as to form a coherent strategy to deal with any and all threats.¡± ¡°Uh-huh. Because cleavage size is such an important part of Sol¡¯s combat efficiency that you felt the need to burn it into your memory for a full five seconds, right?¡± To my credit, I didn¡¯t even bother responding to that. Lord General that I am, I¡¯m much too savvy to fight a losing battle, after all. ¡°Look here now, young lady. Watch your tone when speaking to your father,¡± I hedged instead, reaching for the family authority figure card. I was reaching for straws, so what? ¡°A pervert is what you are,¡± Shia grumbled, before finishing. ¡°I¡¯ll be watching you alright, that¡¯s for sure.¡± ¡°Look Shia, it¡¯s not what you think. Haven¡¯t you noticed that Sol has changed? She¡¯s.. Grown, somehow,¡± I finished, my hands awkwardly gesturing in front of my chest as they drew two rather substantial semi-circles in the air. Were fifteen year olds supposed to have chests that big? Was that a dragonkind thing, maybe maturing slightly faster? Alright, a lot faster. ¡°Oh my god, can¡¯t you stop talking about her boobs for once?¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about the size of her cleavage!¡± I cried out defensively, then belatedly looked down at the gesture my hands were making before continuing lamely. ¡°Well, alright, but not just her boobs.¡± Silence ensued, and I had to wonder at the fact that Shia somehow managed to make even this wordless moment stink of cynical skepticism. I quickly marshalled my thoughts. ¡°Whether it is through the ritual we used to summon her soul or-¡± ¡°The strength of your pervy fantasies,¡± Shia cut in helpfully. ¡°-a consequence of the reforging of her soul and recovery of her full powers,¡± I bravely soldiered on, not willing to let the pitiful dregs of resistance I had so valiantly summoned be butchered by my daughter¡¯s remarkably incisive comments. ¡°You can tell that Sol has grown from a small girl to a young woman, a beautiful one at that.¡± That was all I had time for before I felt a soft weight land abrutply on my back. Looking down, I saw two lithe arms enfolding me within a very enthusiastic embrace. "I am? You really think so?"came a much huskier, and infinitely more feminine version of Sol¡¯s voice from behind my ear. My mouth clamped shut and only a hiss escaped my lips. Thick clouds churned in my brain as I repeatedly told myself this was the same runny nosed runt from before. The constant, growing pressure coming from my back insistently argued otherwise, and I had to struggle mightily to rally my thoughts. I refused to lose this battle and be routed by a naked girl, no matter how bouncy her cleavage felt on my back, nor how dazzling the glow of the bronzed skin on her arms looked. "I, ah.." I mumbled, searching with words while looking away. ¡°I really missed you, mister,¡± Sol spoke softly, as through choking back tears. ¡°I knew you''d come for me. Thank you.¡± The sentiments were further reinforced by a tightening of her arms, pushing the softness on my back even more firmly. I could distinctly feel the yielding pressure of her flesh through the thin layers of clothing that separated us. Yeah, resistance routed. Game over. Good student that she was, Shia could have instantly claimed a decisive victory at this moment. Instead, only a barely audible groaning could be heard. ¡°Please, kill me now.¡± Shia sounded absolutely mortified. Chapter 53 - Happy is Easy Chapter 53 -Happy is Easy I must admit I was at an impasse. While I knew over a dozen different moves I could use to extricate myself from Sol¡¯s enthusiastic embrace, none of them would leave her unscathed. Granted, a few would only cause severe discomfort and pain to her joints as I encouraged them to bend in ways they were not meant to. No permanent damage, just a little pain in the way of persuation. However, here and now, after all both Sol and I had been through, I was understandably reluctant to use force on the poor girl. As for Shia¡¯s outlandish claims that I was actually enjoying having this nubile girl in the bloom of her womanhood pressing her naked body against my back, they were obviously nonsense. I was taken aback, nothing more. Sol was, in all fairness, a rather spectacularly beautiful girl. What kind of a man wouldn''t get just a little surprised, maybe even a bit excited when a hot chick insistently pressed her bare breasts against his back through a very thin intervening layer of clothing? "Dad!" "What?" I cried out helplessly. In the end, it as Sharinne who stepped in to save the day. ¡°Soledad, such scandalous behavior is unbecoming of the next Guardian of the Crimson Flame,¡± the dragoness hissed sharply in between tightly pursed lips. Sol reluctantly let go of me at that, though I wasn¡¯t sure if I had simply imagined her fingers lingering just a moment too long as they stroked my chest. Shaking my head at how ridiculous the notion of what amounted to a twelve year old kid trapped in a young woman¡¯s body having such scandalous thoughts towards an old man like myself, I decided that my imagination had simply grown too fertile with inactivity. Or perhaps my libido was on overdrive, no matter what my conscious brain thought of the matter. Sharinne continued to lecture Sol in low tones, covering her body by draping a cloak across her shoulders as she led the rather unrepentant girl to one side. ¡°Ahem.¡± At Shia¡¯s throat clearing noise, I suddenly realized I was still staring at the back Sol¡¯s calves as she was led away by Sharinne. What was worse, I looked up just as Sol glanced over her shoulder. She caught my guilty eyes and had the cheek to send a wink my way before she returned her attention to Sharinne. The Keeper pretended not to notice as she kept speaking to Sol in a solemn manner. ¡°How can you even clear your throat? Makes no sense, you don¡¯t even have a throat,¡± I grumbled, complaining loudly. ¡°How come an old man can¡¯t stop oogling at a girl at least half his age? See, life just sucks that way sometimes, and we just have to live with it, don¡¯t we? You get to put up with my coughs and I have to resign myself to having a pervert for a father.¡± I thought about that for a long moment, but I swear I couldn''t for the life of me come up with a decent rebutal to that. ¡°You know, I think I liked you better when you were little,¡± I muttered darkly. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you know, I think I liked you better when I was little too,¡± Shia shot back without missing a beat. ¡°Would that have anything to do with your unhealthy obsession with small children?¡± There was just enough levity in that last sentence that I knew she was just teasing me, but damn this new Shia had a sharp tongue about her. Now where could she have possibly picked that up? Gone was the sweet little girl who would say Mommy this and Mommy that, listening to everything I told her. Rebelling against authority figures, too smart for her own good and with a mouth that wouldn¡¯t rest until she got the last say in everything, it was just like a god damn work of art. Like looking into a mirror. ¡°Shia, I¡¯m going to ask you something very important,¡± I finally had the time to ask what had been gnawing at my insides ever since Shia had evolved. ¡°Fire away.¡± ¡°When you were evolving, there was a pattern. Within all the shiny sparks and lights and whatnot, I saw..¡± My voice falterned momentarily as I remembered the face I had seen there. ¡°I saw someone familiar, from my past. Do you know anything about that?¡± ¡°Residual patterns within the transmutation of energy matter as the soul essence accumulated within my reservoirs was ignited to power my coming of age process was obtained from the countless souls vanquished by you in battle, Dad. It is not wholly unexpected to find remnants of their former identities or memories within the stream of their soul essence.¡± ¡°This wasn¡¯t one of the people I fought,¡± I hissed, grimacing. ¡°These souls were also necessarily channeled and absorbed through your own soul before they could turn into a purer form of soul essence that could be metabolized by me,¡± Shia patiently explained. ¡°Perhaps that¡¯s what you saw, just a reflection of your own past memories.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± I grunted, still unconvinced. ¡°You did go through a lot of shit in there, Dad,¡± Shia observed. ¡°Language!¡± ¡°Really? You say it all the time, Dad.¡± ¡°That¡¯s me, this is you. I won¡¯t have you foul-tempered AND foul-mouthed at the same time. You get to pick one or the other, not both.¡± ¡°But you are-¡± ¡°No,¡± I held up my hand to indicate this was not up for argument, and if the sullen silence that followed was the price I had to pay, so be it. I was busy thinking about what this meant, anyhow. I had clearly seen Sophia¡¯s face within that split second moment when the soul essence had merged into a single identifiable pattern. Maybe anyone else would have missed it, but I was used to staking my life on spotting small details like that. I knew what I had seen, and that was that. Was that just a memory dredged up from the depths of my soul, like Shia seemed to be insinuating? ¡°Shia, do you have any juice left?¡± ¡°Uh, not really? Dad, you¡¯ve been throwing soul essence around like it grows on trees,¡± Shia commented dryly. ¡°I need a way to replenish our soul power in the fastest way possible,¡± I muttered, glancing towards the now inert gate. The words of Avernus, God of yada yada, Prince of Fucktown or whatever you call it, were still ringing loud and clear in my ears. Judging by the quiet intensity that layered Sharinne¡¯s every word and gesture, I knew we had a shitstorm coming our way. Now, I¡¯m the last guy in the world who will shun a fight. Hell, I live for this kind of crap. Give me a good pair of gloves and I¡¯ll happily duke it out against the whole world, one sucker punch at a time. However, I always play to win and in my current straits, I was barely able to handle a handful of low rent thugs from a backwater pissant shanty of a town. Sure, apparently I had managed to single-handedly vanquish the evil overlords of the Labyrinth of Souls. As much as I had literally busted my ass fighting that one, the cold fact of the matter was it didn¡¯t count for crap because I couldn¡¯t remember anything from that encounter. I could recall with crystal clarity the determined fire burning in Alan¡¯s eyes as he asked me to leave him to die and complete our mission. Each shot I had fired, each grenade I had detonated, I remembered every single one of them. I could likely come fairly close to telling you exactly how many bullets I had fired during those endless hours spent in the frenzied firefight trapped in the jungle. Hell, I could still smell the distinctive bubblegum Kat liked to chew after completing each of her assassinations, which was one of her subtle ways of telling me she was around and I¡¯d better not show my back to her deadly knives. All these memories were still fresh in my mind, but the last image frozen in my head was that of Sophia lying broken and bleeding on the floor. After that, I had no recollection of anything until I awoke in a ruined wasteland covered in the ashes of my enemies. If I could somehow replicate such a feat, well that would be just dandy. However, I doubted circumstance would be quite so accomodating. Hell, I¡¯d almost gotten my ass chewed off by this overgrown mutant lizard of a dragon and the best I was able to do was Aetna which, may she rest in peace, had in the end done me very little good against the unbelievable resiliency of a dragon. Now, this Avernus guy had indifferently reached out across god knows how many miles and dimensions or what not, and plucked out Sharinne¡¯s eye as though it were child¡¯s play. Damn the bastard, I had to really work my ass off to do the same thing, almost getting my sorry behind melted by a stream of superheated dragon breath in the process. That meant I needed something big, and at long last I was at least decently prepared for the trials that awaited me ahead. Having shamelessly looted the Hall of Relics of the Crimson Flame Clan, I had a grand total of eight, yes EIGHT dimensional storage devices, ranging from delicate, filigreed rings all the way to a bulging backpack. Contained within were artifacts of immense power and fabled lore, swords from legend and armor worn by heroes of great renown. The time had come to use them, to unleash their power. My lips curled up in one of the very rare moments of true bliss that grace my life from time to time, as I took a deep breath and lovingly ran my fingers over one of the rings I had acquired recently. Yes, this would be the beginning of a new legend. I would slay this uppity godling and use his still-twitching corpse as a step on my way to the top. My vengeance demanded nothing less. There was one particular weapon that instantly sprang to mind as I prepared to give free reign to my beloved homicidal impulses. I didn¡¯t even need to close my eyes to visualize the relic I was seeking within the pocket dimension linked through the storage item. Yes, there it was, perched upon a small pile of priceless artifacts, each with their own storied pasts. Even among these, this one had the aura of an emperor. It was a hand-and-half sword with runes of power carved all the way down its double edged blade. The pommel was a sapphire carved in the shape of a dragon that shimmered with an eerie light, as though some unextinguishable flame burned in its depths.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Grinning to myself, I extended my right hand before me and sent forth a tendril of will. Immediately, a line appeared in the air before me. From within, the magnificent sword I had summoned slowly emerged, hilt first. It hovered in the air before me as though waiting for me to reclaim it from the pages of history and wield it to write a new saga. Immensely satisfied, I grasped the hilt of the sword firmly in my hand as though it were manifest destiny, as though this sword and this moment had always belonged to me. As its new and rightful master, I tightened my grasp on the sword to lift it high overhead, and nearly bit my tongue off as the sword shocked the shit out of my hand with a burst of power that clamped my teeth shut with a loud clack and left tendrils of smoke drifting over my head. Pain and shock paralyzed my whole body while my right hand burned like someone had dipped it in boiling oil. To make matters worse, the sword finished tumbling through the spacial rift and fell towards my head with uncanny precision, edge first. Watching the terrifying edge of that great blade descending upon my head, I gave a great mental shout of sheer panic, demanding that my damn useless legs move, and move NOW. At least some of that desperation must have percolated through, since at the very last moment I managed a pathetic lurch to one side as the damn butchering sword whooshed past my face, so close I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d need a shave for a while. My wild lunge left me sprawled on the floor, cold sweat trickling down my back as a handful of hair drifted down to settle on the floor. That damn murdering blade, it lay stuck a good foot into the ground now, still quivering from the impact. ¡°What the hell kind of treacherous, murdering piece of crap sword is that?¡± I blurted out in shock and outrage. ¡°Uh, Dad, I think we have a problem,¡± Shia murmured in an ominous tone. ¡°No shit, you think? Damn rusty piece of horseshit almost sliced my head off, and you think we¡¯ve got a problem? The hell¡¯s the matter with this thing?¡± I got up to my feet, still a bit shaky from the adrenaline pumping in my veins. I glared at the offending sword as though it were a viper, coiled to strike at any time. ¡°This some kind of trap?¡± ¡°Um, no. I think we may just have overlooked a tiny teeny detail, dad.¡± A heavy rock landed in the pit of my stomach with a heavy thump as suspicion bloomed within my head. Not this crap again. A few rounds of red-faced, blisteringly scathing curses and shouts, and a whole pile of priceless artifacts strewn carelessly about later, I did in fact discover that it was this same crap again. Here I had a whole pile of magical artifacts of might and legend, and wouldn¡¯t you know it? All of it did jack shit for me. God damn it, the level requirements to wear the smallest, stupidest looking item had left me foaming at the mouth in fits of rage. That was not all either. Each came with different stat checks, such as a minimal threshold of strength and agility to wield a certain sword, or a metric crapton of stamina to put on even the silliest armors. Holy shit, I was level three and the tiniest dagger required me to be level sixty? You gotta be shitting me, right? What the hell was I supposed to do with this damn useless pile of shiny trinkets I couldn¡¯t even use? Thanks a lot for nothing, Shia. ¡°That¡¯s not fair dad, it¡¯s not my fault.¡± Ooops, I didn¡¯t even realize I¡¯d been speaking out loud. ¡°Tell that to my hand. It still stings like hell.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because your power does not meet the minimum requirements of the artifact¡¯s spirit.¡± ¡°Spirit? You¡¯re saying all these are sentient artifacts like you?¡± ¡°Of course not, comparing these crude items to me is like comparing a diamond to a chunk of rock. It¡¯s not that the artifacts are alive, but they do possess a distinctive identity.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not making sense.¡± ¡°Most magical artifacts are imbued with great power and intent. Whether it is runes, spells or arcane forging techniques, this shapes the way they function. That is, how the artifact gathers magical power and channels it towards a specific purpose, like the flames on that poor sword you used to fight Sharinne. You follow so far?¡± I grunted my assent. ¡°Lesser artifacts will fade with use and time as the magic within is slowly drained out, but a well crafted masterpiece operates in the opposite way. Such artifacts grow in might as the spells contained within continue to accumulate power through the years. All the more so when they are wielded by strong individuals who often commune with their artifacts and form bonds that last a lifetime. Most legendary artifacts must go through a long process during which they continue to be tempered by the power of their users, slowly gaining a unique imprint, or identity. In time, this becomes a singular entity contained within the sword. That¡¯s the artifact¡¯s spirit. It is not fully sentient, but it possesses enough power and autonomy that they greatly increase the power of the artifact. To wield such an artifact, however, first you must meet its requirements and receive its acknowledgement as its master. ¡°And that¡¯s the little sucker that just stung the shit out of my hand?¡± I growled. ¡°Yep, pretty much.¡± Damn piece of crap. As soon as I got out I would take the time to hike my butt all the way up the nearest volcano and toss the damn thing, and good riddance! Here I was, surrounded by artifacts of power so great they¡¯d spawned their own artifact spirits, yet I couldn¡¯t use a single one. Well, that¡¯s not true. The one thing I had been able to salvage from the whole pile had been a pair of Arielen Shrine Stewardship Ritual Robes. Robes, god damn it. I hate robes. In fact, I refused to wear the only protective armor I could equip from this whole useless pile because it made me look stupid, and how the hell was I supposed to move in the bulky piece of trash anyhow? No matter that they glittered with runes of power woven into the very fabric of the robes, which felt like some sort of metal composite. Shia had later explained these were magical robes woven from mythril threads, used to protect virgin maidens as they trekked through the Darkwoods in a pilgrimage to their holy shrine. It explained why it had no level or stat requirements, but ritual robes meant for virgin maidens, really? Wear a damn dress at my age? Hell. No. Not a chance. ¡°I think they¡¯d look cute on you, mister,¡± Sol giggled from behind my back. ¡°Very impressive, right Reaver?¡± An overenthusiastic series of barks followed, and I wondered if it was too late to at least take the damn mutt back. Refunds should still be a thing, even in a game right? ¡°I''ll shave all that useless fur and use it for padding Sol''s bra unless you actually make yourself useful, you damn mutt. We''ll see how impressive you look then, you bag of fleas,¡± I said testily. ¡°Geez, don¡¯t be such a grouch, mister. What''s a bra anyhow?¡± ¡°Soledad, you must attend me,¡± came Sharinne¡¯s calm, level voice. I turned around just as Sol was poking her tongue out towards my back, but I decided to take the high road and focus on more important matters. Such as burning these damn robes as soon as I got the chance. Was there anything like an incinerator around here, I wondered. ¡°Dad, what will we do?¡± came Shia¡¯s quiet voice, clearly nervous. ¡°Avernus is the Champion of the Infinite Arena and the Warrior Prime of the Infernum Hosts.¡± Throwing my hands up, I snorted in disgust. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m sick of all the stupid title dropping. Can someone tell me exactly who this guy is?¡± ¡°He¡¯s one of the most mysterious members of the New Gods and the Shadow Pantheon. Only bits and pieces of information exist even within the extensive archives of the Crimson Flame Clan. What information does exist, however, is terrifying. In the final tome of ¡°Records of the Fall of the Last Great Empire¡¯, it tells of an unknown god who felt slighted by the ruler of the Great Kartstein Empire and demanded the lives of all his offspring as a blood offering to atone for the offense. The Emperor refused and formed a great coalition to defend against this god¡¯s wrath at his grand capital. The four greatest kingdoms of the continent gathered into a grand army more numerous than grains of sand. Legendary heroes and great generals all heeded the call to defend the cradle of civilization as they knew it.¡± I twisted my mouth as a sour taste began to develop in my mouth. ¡°And what happened?¡± ¡°Day after day, year after year, the Empire fought and fought well. At great cost the grand army managed to hold back the minions of the unknown god. The towering ramparts of the Imperial Capital stood tall, defended by the greatest champions of the age. Spells of immense power wrought a great slaughter in the ranks of the servants of this god, halting their advance. Paid in blood and heroism, a long stalemate was reached. At the end of the eleventh year, it is said the unknown god deigned to return his regard to the foolish humans who had defied his will. Incensed that his edicts had not been carried out yet, he slew the generals of his own armies and left without a word as every citizen of the Empire rejoiced in their hard-won victory.¡± Certain that this couldn¡¯t be the end of the story, I squeezed my fists while I prepared myself for what would follow. ¡°The next day, a solitary figure walked to the gates of the Imperial Capital. These were his words: ¡®Know that I am Avernus, Lord of the Infernum Hosts. Your valor earns you this right. I am Avernus, and your doom is nigh. Your insolence exacts this price.¡¯ Without further word, this warrior unleashed power of a magnitude that beggared the defenders¡¯ wildest fears. No sword nor spell could prevail against this indomitable foe, and all resistance proved futile as the most courageous champions of an age were slaughtered like pigs in a pen. Within the span of a single day, Avernus tore down the walls of the Capital and razed the grounds until only a desolate waste remained. Blood flowed in rivers and only eleven souls were left alive, one for each year of their puny resistance. This was the unknown god¡¯s command, that these wretched remnants should serve as a lesson to the whole world, for gods do not suffer mortal insolence well, or at all.¡± ¡°Any chance these are merely stories?¡± Fat chance, but I had to try. ¡°That was only one of the more complete accounts, precisely because one of the survivors left a detailed record of the siege and ensuing massacre of the Karlstein Empire. In all the records I have available, I¡¯ve been able to find 8 other incidents of similar or even greater scale, which can be attributed to Avernus with a 93.6% certainty. Another 23 mentions of increasingly dubious veracity exist, but setting issues of legitimacy aside, 166 incidents can be traced back to Avernus within the past millennia alone.¡± Damn, so I¡¯d just happened to attract the unwanted attention of a scary bastard who worked as supernatural muscle for the gods, butchering mortals left and right for at least the past thousand years? And here I was stuck with some glorified dress meant for virgins out on a stroll through the woods and a fat lot of nothing else but guts and sheer power of will. Aw hell, I¡¯ll take those odds. Better than what I¡¯ve gotten most of my life. After all, he may be Avernum, Lord of the Infernum, Tyrant of the Chaos Gates, Warrior of the Hellhost and Champion of the Infinite Arena. Pfft, big deal. I am Seth the Godslayer, the Devourer of Souls and Wielder of the Primordial Soulfire, bitch. I¡¯ll slam my hand down your throat and pull out your sissy ass soul to roast it to a cinder in within the unforgiving heat of my Soulfire. Then I would really get to work on you. What I needed right now was time. Give me some time to catch my breath, and I would show that bastard just who¡¯s the toughest kid on the block. Any block. And you know what, I¡¯m not very proud of it, but I had to admit that deep, deep down and after dealing with all this melodramatic crap, I was finally beginning to feel that familiar tingling of sheer joy and happiness. Because really, I¡¯m a simple man with simple tastes. Many people have lofty goals, high ambitions. Their happiness hinges on so many variables, conditions and contingencies. Me, just put a gun in my hand and clear the hell out. That¡¯s all I ask, all I need. I¡¯ll take care of the rest. Matching words to actions, I lifted my head towards the quiet depths of the Soul Gate. ¡°Shia.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get daddy a nice, big fucking gun.¡±