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Chapter 113: Voyage (2)
🕑 Added 2024-08-20 05:30:27 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
This resulted in all the adventurers getting up from their chairs, prepared to fight. Their reactions were pretty much instantaneous and uniform in nature. After all, the primary job of adventurers was to fight against monsters. People drew swords while some deigned to simply let their hands hang loose. Strangely, it was Cecilia who lowered her arms first, the silver-colored mana dissipating.
“Please, settle down.” Priestess Cecilia smoothed the hems of her dress, her expression hidden behind the veil.
Just as strange was Zenom who had no reacted at all in any shape, way or form. He just stood there behind the podium, his expression rock solid and giving nothing away.
‘Almost like he had expected something to happen.’ I noted to myself.
The adventurers settled down and Skaris sat down next to me gruffly. “Ssslaveborn. Your sssword. You do not have one.”
Right. I had forgotten.
“...I’ll find a replacement one.” I whispered to him as the existence of whatever had spooked the adventurers revealed itself.
It started out like a dot in the sky until it began to draw closer. When it was near the top of the masts, I saw something vaguely shaped like a bird yet reptilian in nature. Its wingspan had to be at least fifteen feet on each side, impossibly small to support its long scale covered body. The monster didn’t fly so much as it glided in disturbing slithering movements through the air, descending enough for me to make out what it was.
“...An Amphiptere.” I whispered, just loud enough so that only my party could hear me. “Grade 7, flying monster.”
“Is it a dragon?” Stole asked.
I shook my head. “It’s classified as a Wyvern. Still has scales hard enough to repel most weapons below Unique class and various spells.”
“What’s it doing all the way out here?” It was Kyrian who asked.
“It has to be a summon. They’re only found in humid environments and the closest thing resembling that is the Delirious Jungle, hundreds of miles away.” I thought I had answered them quietly, addressing only the people near me.
But I had underestimated the hearing ability of the other parties, or rather, their scouts. I saw one of the Scions from the Turinan Party nudge the others and they were all staring at me. It wasn’t just them either. Delas’ party was doing the same and I had the distinct feeling that Clover’s party was doing the same, even if they were cloaked from head to toe. Dorocian’s eyes glittered and a sly grin stretched over her lips.
“No wonder you beat me at the Colosseum. You’re practically a walking monster [Compendium].”
The rest of the adventurers seemed to agree, some of them looking at me with admiration. Still, more seemed to edge on the side of wariness with a healthy dose of open hostility. In the end, on this quest for the Church, we were all competitors and I’d just revealed one of my hands without meaning to: that I was extremely well-versed in monster knowledge.
The Amphiptere descended, revealing its rainbow-like wings which were a little too stubby to belong to a bird. It coiled around itself on the floor next to Zenom, taking up a huge amount of space. The monster was large enough to seat a whole party with no difficulty. Opening its opulent eyes with a dizzying array of colors, it looked around, gauging us as if daring to attack.
Most of our attention was taken by the saddle that was affixed behind the creature’s back. A strange contraption built so that the riders were saddled horizontally, avoiding the sharp ridge-plating running the length of the monster’s body. The two people on either side leapt down first, clearing the twenty foot jump with ease. Both were dressed entirely in white armor, definitely not as heavy as Zenom’s or Aurora’s, but something similar to mine; balance between movement and defense.
I couldn’t see their faces because just like Cecilia, they were hidden behind these strips of white cloth tied to a band on their forehead. But I did catch the colors of their hair. One was midnight black with strips of orange and the other was the same –except with highlights of bold blue.
Signature Hair Colors of Scions. An Akka Xalud and a Kojisa to be exact.
The blue-haired one, a woman from the looks of it, looked around then finally nodded. “It is safe, your Excellency.”
Then the Amphiptere lowered its large head, and the Bishop stepped down.
Zenom put a fist over his heart and bowed. “Your Excellency.”
“Your Excellency.” Cecilia repeated the gesture and the dozens of priests and priestesses around us did the same.
He was dressed in white (of course) and with a head of hair to match. A needle thin frame with a shrunken face, matched by a set of narrowed beady eyes told me everything I needed to know about this man. His white robe was adorned with a red stole, decorated with stylized drawings of the Sun. A Bishop from the Branch of Light, the same branch that Priestess Cecilia Lightridge belonged to.
As a general rule, I hated all the religious leaders of this church. Besides the fact that they were penny-pinching grifters who used the power of healing for something as materialistic as coin, they all had a different agenda. The lot of them were all hypocrites in my opinion, especially those that were affiliate with their church and held an esteemed rank. They were the physical manifestation of avarice and pride, all rolled into one.
Not too different from my world, I guess.
I’m not saying I hate all the pastors, monks and rabbis of my world. It’s just that I’ve seen too much, and my opinions have been shaped by hearsay and few experiences that were bad enough to color the lens with which I see the world. MSS in particular was worse; because it was almost impossible to become a healer without being a cleric. The chosen few –like Clover or Shara I guess– were few and rare, too far in between.
The Bishop looked around with those calculating eyes and finally waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, at which Zenom, Cecilia and all the other members of the Church of Light, Flame and Shield stood up straight.
God, I already hated him.
Funny how I hadn’t even spoken a word to him but I hated him already. But sometimes, you didn’t need a reason to hate someone. I had several though. Not good ones, mind you, but that was more than enough for me to feel justified in not liking him.
“I wanted to see with my own eyes the adventurers that you have gathered for this undertaking, Sir Zenom Saintred.”
Zenom inclined his head an inch but not more. “I have gathered the best adventurers available in Jayu.”
“Have you?” The Bishop countered without missing a beat.
“Yes.” Zenom replied in the same manner.
In that short exchange, I saw everything I needed to see. The two weren’t working together. Whatever the details of the relationship might be, they were simply people who served the same Church, nothing more and nothing less. Everything else, such as the details on how to get it done or more importantly, who gets the credits for getting it done, was a point of competition.
I watched the interaction, trying to glean more information out of it.
“This is an extremely important mission to the Light and there are many eyes watching us. You must uphold the honor of the Church and by extension, those whom you have chosen and cavort with must hold themselves to a standard.” He finally turned to us and I saw his eyes roam over us, pausing at particular intervals.
Skaris.
Stole.
The beastman called Astelion.
A dwarf next to him.
The two elves.
The cloaked figures, some of whom could not hide their origin, such as Arrosh whose green-colored hands were visible.
With each look, the Bishop’s pale face grew a shade darker, going from pink to red to almost purple. Finally, he took a calming breath and visibly deflated. He struggled to find the right words.
“...This is quite a diverse collection of individuals you collected, Sir Saintred.” The Bishop finally commented at last.
“They are the ones that the Light has sent us.”
“The Light… I question whether it was truly the Light or your own judgment that brought these people to your feet.” The Bishop commented at last. “Afterall, with your questionable upbringing, I wonder if-”
“Your Excellence,” Cecilia cut in. “We were in the middle of briefing the adventurers for the journey ahead. Zenom and I have prepared for a long time and were planning on Rest, secluding ourselves in prayer afterwards. I bid you, will you give us leave to continue?”
The Bishop sneered but turned around, but not without getting the last word. “I invite you and Sir Saintred to join me for supper every five days, to keep each other accountable for the walks of faith.”
Just as fast as they had arrived, the three of them departed, flying towards another ship while riding on the Amphiptere.
Most of us just stood there awkwardly, not knowing how to react to what just happened. Us adventurers, we’re good at fighting monsters, sure. But another thing we’re really good at? Knowing when someone poses a danger to our loot. And right there and then, the Bishop just became a threat to all our winnings and more –undermining Zenom like that had faltered our beliefs in him.
Zenom cleared his throat. “The rest of you are free to spend the day as you wish. Tomorrow, we will start going over the next steps in more details, namely what steps we will take to prepare ourselves at the Free Trader’s League.” He turned on his heel and headed for the captain’s quarters with Cecilia in tow. “Dismissed.”
Cecilia followed after him.
***
My party and I were in a small room. Apparently the rooms had been randomly dispatched at the party level. Our party had been given three rooms and Kyrian had been nice enough to give me the only single room, so that I could rest in peace. Otherwise, I’d never hear the end of Skaris’ snoring.
Right now, we were in Aurora and Stole’s room. The two girls had barely been in here a day but already, it smelled loads better than Kyrian and Skaris’ room. Something of a mixture between fragrant leather oil and metal. I wasn’t expecting flowery decorations anything but it was much more sparse than I imagined. Stole’s Arbalest lay in the corner, drying in the lazy ocean sun.
“I have to clean it every hour or the salt gets in and it starts to creak.” Stole complained, taking an oiled rag to the weapon.
Aurora sat on a hammock, her knees folded. Stole sat cross legged on the floor.
“So Lock,” Kyrian asked, standing against a corner with his arms crossed. “Tell us what happened.”
“It’s a long story.” I muttered, wondering how to begin.
“We have time.” Kyrian said again. He was strangely insistent.
I nodded. They at least deserved that much.
I started from the beginning after I got separated from them. I didn’t tell them about the specifics, but I did tell them how I survived the fall, ending up in the Scavenger’s Base. From there, I told them how I started to look for a way out and found out that Arrosh had been kept prisoner in their base. Of course, I left out the Player bits out. But this time, I shared something I hadn’t shared with anyone before.
“You lossssst?” Skaris said in disbelief.
I nodded. “Completely. It wasn’t even a contest. He was faster, much faster and skilled to boot.” Then glancing at Aurora, I added, “He knew my moves. How I fought, how I’d react. The whole thing, it was like he had already fought me before.”
“The Colosseum.” Aurora explained. “One of the reasons why Adventurers are loath to enter the Colosseum except as a last resort, you become an easy target for those who hunt other adventurers.”
Who knew that the Colosseum fight would come back to bite me in the ass? I had only thought as far as the fight itself, not the dangers associated with it so long after. Was it possible that only just now, were the consequences of my choices and actions beginning to catch up to me?
“Lock.” The way Kyrian said my name made me look at him.
“You have spoken about this man, Arrosh, for a long time. You call him your master. But I always got the sense that you were leaving things out.” Kyrian said. “It also doesn’t make sense that the Scavenger’s Guild would kidnap a plain old orc.”
He paused to make sure everyone understood the implications of what he was saying.
“He’s not just any regular old orc swordsman is he?” Kyrian wasn’t asking.
I didn’t answer, but still nodded.
“Who is he, Lock?” Kyrian prodded, coming out from the corner and sitting across from me. “Because it feels like you left out a lot of the parts. Such as how you got out of Ryker’s Manacles. Why was this Arrosh captured in the first place and what they wanted from you, why did they leave you alive.”
I looked at each of them in turn.
Kyrian, a Mage with a kind heart who I was starting to realize was slowly changing. He wasn’t the timid broken mage who had once sought revenge on the Akka Xaluds. Now, there was a level of certainty in his eyes, that belied the strength that lay within.
Skaris, the honorable warrior of the Beastman whom I could always trust to have my back. Him and Kyrian had been with me the longest.
Aurora the beautiful tank of our party, with a code of steel and the icy exterior that hid the warm heart within. The more I got to know Aurora, the more I began to like her as a comrade.
Stole, the latest addition but nonetheless a critical part of our party. Hell, in the short time that I’d been gone, the four of them formed a bond and Stole was part of it.
…They deserved the truth. Not parts of the truth that I just glossed over, but the whole truth. Maybe not the Players, but the parts about the gods and the six heroes and everything that pertained to this world. That the fact that there was a war coming, the fact that the gods were sending us on these missions and that even after this, I’d probably be sucked into the plot of these deity masterminds.
With that sudden realization, I began to speak.
“What you’re asking me to tell you, is more than just who Arrosh is.” I explained. “And once I say this, there’s no going back.”
Skaris scoffed. “Get on with it, Sssslaveborn.”
Adventurers were the superstitious type and most of them believed in a god. Whether it was Oung, Khan or the Light, they all believed in the existence of it. But from living here, I learned that the particular way that their faith can manifest differed from person to person. One person might believe the gods to be fair and keep a careful eye on their subjects, while another adventurer might believe the gods were more akin to a cosmic vending machine that didn’t care what happened on earth.
I could only hope they believed me, because from now, I was going to start telling them things that could be way over their heads.
Would they believe me? Even if I sounded crazy?
I had to give it a shot. Because the longer they stayed with me without knowing the dangers around me, the higher the chances of one of them dying.
I didn’t want that.
Taking a deep breath, I began.
“How much do you guys know about the gods?”
Then I shared everything.
From the beginning.
***
Comments
Kai
Thank you!
Predyca
Thanks for the Chapter!!! ♥
Mordock 24
There’s no way he can avoid telling them about players. If one of them even learns what a player is he’ll be outed immediately and it’ll be clover all over again. He needs to tell them of his own volition, and not let someone else reveal it at the wrong time.
