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Chapter 106: Arrosh Bloodedge
🕑 Added 2024-08-04 14:46:17 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
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The moment I tore myself out of those manacles, quite literally, what I felt wasn’t the sweet, sweet release from pain or the taste of freedom. What I did wasn’t run around, looking for revenge. No, it wasn’t so simple. Life isn’t so simple.
I crouched down and worried.
I worried what would happen if Coum walked through that door right now and saw me out of my chains. My mind sorted through the various memories of the torture techniques and how they’d feel and I came this close to passing out on the floor right there and then. But when the memories hit me with the force of a mental psychic sledgehammer, I did nothing more than wince like a wounded animal.
I stood firm against it, breathing in and counting to ten, and then breathing out. By all rights, I should have been rushing to get out of there. But it was more important that I stay and put myself in the right frame of mind. And in that moment, I calmly ordered my thoughts like a filing system by priority, casting aside everything that was unreasonable with ruthless efficiency.
There were a multitude of things I had to do with the [Player’s Guild]. Dibo’s revenge. My own desire for information about players in this world. As Tanya had pointed out, a painful longing to talk with someone from Home, someone who could empathize with me. But that wasn’t the end of it. There was greed present too, who knows what treasures lay in a Clan headed by [Players]? Even if the Scavengers weren’t players, they were still led by one.
Among those, I wanted revenge too. Us humans… when someone hurts us, our first reaction is to lash out. Hurt them back, twofold, fivefold and even a hundredfold. To strike back in anger and rage is a universal emotion.
But the ability to do so was not.
And the condition I was in meant that option was out.
Last but not least, I wanted to find where Arrosh was and get him out of here.
I quickly dismissed finding a Player and trying to get revenge. Loathe as I was to admit it, that horse-headed cosplaying freak scared me. It was like he knew my every move and every Core, down to the last detail. Not to mention I was starting to doubt I’d hesitated to cut his neck off of my own accord and wasn’t entirely sure if Tanya’s explanation for why I had done so was forthcoming. No, there were more than one Core in this world that could cancel an attack, some chance based and others having to be activated.
Yes. Now that I was thinking more clearly, it was highly likely that the whole thing was a set up.
Use a Core to trick someone into thinking they hesitated, then Tanya swoops in to make them think they want to connect with other Players. Preying on the mental confusion of someone who’d gotten so used to killing without hesitation then slamming them with words like ‘home’ and ‘friends’.
Either that or I just refused to believe that the horse-head was the better swordsman.
There was also another possibility: I grossly overestimated my own strength and underestimated that of others. I was placing myself around Grade 3 or 4 before but could it be that I wasn’t? Even with the Royal Oni, could it be that I was actually closer to grade 5?
It’s not like the grading system for adventurers was as cut and dry as it was for monsters. Adventurer grade was determined by a small orb which was invented by Mages. From what I remembered, it took into account a variety of factors, mostly the strength of your Cores and your [Physical] and [Mental] stat. This meant that it didn’t take into account any synergy between the Cores at all.
Theoretically, it was entirely possible for someone with all his slots full of Grade 10 Cores working seamlessly together to wipe the floor with someone who had a mismatching Core set. Yes, even in the game version of MSS, this had been prominent. Sometimes, the match-up was just bad and you had no way to win.
Could it be that I was just a bad matchup with horse-head?
“I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I get to it.”
With the realization that I didn’t want to face any of the Players at all, least of all Horse-Head and Coum, I realized Dibo’s request for information and searching for possible loot was out too. I wanted to minimize my risk of being discovered. More than that, information and loot would be guarded. Guards meant I had to fight someone and I wanted to get out of here without fighting at all (surprise, surprise, I know).
I wasn’t in the right state of mind to hold my sword much less fight with it. Against a Player or not, I was damaged. It wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
But there was one thing I had to try to do no matter what, and that was finding Arrosh.
“Come on.” I punched my thighs a couple of times. “Come on, move! You stupid thing.”
Eventually, my legs stopped shaking and I stumbled over to the table where Coum had laid out his various instruments of torture. They were all shiny and clean, a testament to the man’s nature. I brushed them aside, swallowing my breath nervously. Coum had been healing me after each torture set and there were a bunch of health potions on one side.
Uncorking one, I readied myself mentally before pouring them over my wrists one at a time.
I managed not to scream.
There was a sickening joy in realizing that it felt good to inflict pain on myself, instead of by someone else's whim. Before, I had dreaded seeing the skin and flesh knit itself together but right now it felt like another huge step towards finally leaving this place behind. After my wrists had healed themselves, I took care of the little nicks and cuts that I had suffered.
I quickly found my armor and weapons that were discarded in the corner.
“Fuckers.” I muttered. They hadn’t bothered taking anything. They had been that confident in their ability to win me over.
Or kill me when I didn’t.
That told me something about these guys. They were confident in their methods, whether it was downright getting rid of loose ends or keeping a hostage for days on end. Chances were that they wouldn’t even expect me to have escaped my manacles at all. That meant the element of surprise at my side. More than that, it told me something about Coum. He wasn’t one to care about wealth.
Which meant he was different from other Players.
Fully armored once more, I stowed the Lunar Shield and ownerless sword on my back. I checked the pockets and the Dimension Rings were all there. Then turning around, I walked back over to the spot where I had been strung up by my wrists, looking at the thorny handcuffs –Ryker’s Manacles. I looked at the blood stains on the floor, not all of it mine, which looked more like grease at this point.
Grimacing, I carefully unhooked Ryker’s Manacles from the ceiling and put it in my Dimension Ring. Just because I gave up on revenge didn’t completely rule out the chance for poetic justice sometime in the future.
Finally I stood beside the door that I had stared at more than a hundred times, hoping that someone would come and rescue me. In the end, no help came. No one had come to rescue me.
“Yeah, but you can be that someone for someone else.” I said quietly. “You don’t need a reason to be a good person to your friends.”
Yeah. That sounded good to me.
Making sure no sound was coming from the other side, I opened the door, stepping out into the tunnels.
It was very anticlimactic.
Which was fine with me. I could use boring for awhile longer just yet.
I walked in my armor, unsteady and eyes shifting to every corner. Paranoia was steeped in my bones and every shadow, every creak and even the silence was a sign of danger. I wasn’t sure if anything was indeed lurking around, waiting for me and I doubted I could fight it off. So I moved quickly, metal boots striking stone and creating much too noise for my liking. It’s hard to creep in full armor.
This place was just a huge dome shaped corridor with a dozen doors on one side and a single opening that led to a passageway on the opposite side. No doubt that was the exit. The temptation was strong to just walk out of here but I pushed it away, becoming better and better at controlling my thoughts once more. I walked by each of the doors, listening in. I couldn’t hear a thing.
If I still had the Lucky Beckoning Cat, no doubt I could’ve even picked up the breathing of whoever was inside, if there was someone in there at all. As it was, the metal doors were simply too thick for my meager [Hearing] stat to listen in on. Still, if there was anyone screaming or an active torture session going on, I was sure I would hear it. I pressed my ears against them one by one, before opening it and peeking inside.
“Walking in on a torture session,” I shook my head after bringing my ears away from the third door, “Only the third most awkward thing I’ve said in my life.”
God, I had missed making jokes. Even the unfunny ones.
Just when I was about to give up and start searching elsewhere, I opened the second to last door and froze.
He was there.
It was horrible.
A needle thin orc hung in the air upside down, ugly meat hooks holding him through the back of his ankles. His greenish skin bulged with ugly red blotches, mostly around his hands, wrists and feet like bee stings but I knew they were from the same curved needle that Coum used on me. One eye was swollen that it looked permanently closed. Numerous scars lined his arms, all the way down to the elbows and I saw soft, thin, almost clear scar tissue lining the entire length of it.
But it was slightly different from Coum’s handiwork. There was emotion in the scars, some wounds too deep and too big to be immaculately torture. Multiple stab and burn wounds littered Arrosh’s body and I turned my head away as a finger sized hole wriggled, making me realize that some fucker had put maggots in his wounds. Whoever had tortured Arrosh had done this with anger and passion, heated emotions leaving marks of his emotional state.
By the gods, I didn’t want to look at this.
I didn’t know what I expected from our reunion and hadn’t really planned out how I would react upon seeing him like this. Actually, I did expect it, deep down in my heart where I could ignore the uncomfortable feeling of facing reality. Truth is, we were both in enemy territory and this was the harsh reality of what happened to those who were captives. Torture. Neglect. Hurt. Pain.
Our reunion wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be…
‘Supposed to be like what? All hugs and smiles? Tearful greetings and ‘I missed you’s? Get real, look at what just happened to you in the last twenty four hours. These guys are fucking animals, plain and simple. You need to stop being so fucking soft just because they’re [Players]. You think they survived this long by being soft?’ My inner voice stepped in.
‘I didn’t do these sort of things to survive.’ I argued back.
‘You have the experience of fourteen years beating the original difficulty. You know pretty much every secret dungeon and loot. Not to mention a freaking goddess looking over your shoulder and manipulating Core drop rates for you in the first dungeon you entered. What about the others? If they didn’t have your advantage, how the hell would they fare? What kind of things would they have to resort to? Just a plain student? A salaryman? Gods forbid, a regular schmoe joe dad or a kid?’
‘Still, I would never do something like this.’ I hissed back.
‘Not yet.’
I shook my head and stepped foot inside the room, flooded with the smell of blood, rot and feces all at once. It swarmed me like a physical force and I waded through it as it blanketed my entire being. It felt like walking through sludge, every step a struggle. Eventually, I reached Arrosh.
“Arrosh.” I muttered, not knowing what to say. Reuniting this way left a bitter feeling in my throat. “I’m here for you.”
Then Arrosh, whom I thought had been unconscious, opened the eye that wasn’t swollen, the milky clouds within them swirling sluggishly and smiled.
“The trout returns upstream at last.”
It was him.
It was Arrosh.
It was Arrosh Bloodedge, the one who’d taught me swordsmanship.
It was my Master whose teachings had saved my life.
“I’m here, Master.” I wiped at my eyes as they became blurry and knelt down, speaking in low voices. “Do you know where you are? What’s happened to you?”
“The clouds of forgetfulness have not claimed me just yet, young tree.” He smiled without any sign of pain. “Even a sea of pain could not drown out the bond between master and disciple. I knew you would come to free me from the chains of bondage.”
“Arrosh…” I didn’t know what to say.
“Though there would be better times to satiate our thirst from the nectar of nostalgia and the drink of memories, young tadpole.”
He was right. There was a time for this later.
I quickly stood up and studied the hooks. There was no way I could get him down without hurting him.
“Master, I’m going to have to cut through these chains.” I muttered. “Brace yourself.”
“You have learned to cut through Steel?”
Instead of answering, I drew the sword from my back.
My mind was damaged but the potion had returned my body to full capacity –and [Aura] answered my call. Familiar gray aura surrounded the falchion and in one clean stroke, I cut the chain and caught Arrosh before he could flop to the ground.
Arrosh wasn’t invincible. He hissed in pain despite the gentle landing and the remaining chains attached to the hooks clanged against the floor. I acted quickly, grabbing the hooks and ripping them out of his ankles before the elderly orc could say otherwise. Arrosh stiffened like someone does when they’re scared or when they’re holding their breath due to the pain but relaxed a moment after, breathing out in quick bursts.
“That was [Aura].” Arrosh whispered through the pain.
I wasn’t even surprised that the blind orc could tell what it was. He had tricks of his own.
Besides, he was my Master. Of course he would know. He’s the one who taught it to me.
“Goddamit Arrosh, you're bleeding. Now’s not the time to talk about swordsmanship.” I took out Health Potions and uncorked them with my teeth, basically showering Arrosh with it.
“Now is precisely the time to talk about [Aura], for your roots have dug deep into the soil. Finally, the teachings can begin.”
“We can do that later.” I argued, watching his skin regrow and wounds close in on itself. The maggots were pushed out of the holes as the flesh regrew from within. I brushed them off and fought not to gag at the smell.
Arrosh didn’t even bat an eye which was impressive as hell. Whenever I used a health potion on myself, I had to fight not to scream. “The sapling must lay down its roots. Then they must grow tall, taller than others and reach for the Sun.”
“Yeah, Sunlight. That sounds like a good idea to me. Let’s get out of here.”
The orc swordsman muttered something, and I noticed that a couple of his teeth were missing. I had always known he was skinny, but had his body always been this fragile-feeling? There was hardly any meat on his bones. Arrosh shifted his weight and I let him go, hardly feeling his weight leaving my touch. Turning around, he faced me and I could’ve sworn he could see.
There were some damages that healing potions couldn’t heal, malnutrition being one of them. His cheeks were hauntingly gaunt and his belly was naught more than a strip of leather covering his organs. His ribs flared out painfully and the hint of something starting at his shoulders.
I’d never wondered what Arrosh’s totem was. I’d never even considered that he was a Berserker.
But he was. He had to be. It’s just that for me, his identity as the Sword Sage’s Disciple came first.
Slowly, Arrosh traced his fingers over his shoulders and the tribal tattoos over them. Then he shuddered.
“The failed protector of his people gets his second chance. For the root takes quicker than imaginable. Could it be possible that the cards of fate are moving? Oh, venerable Khan, let me strike true and shatter the bones of my enemies.” He raised his head to the sky, crying out like a howling wolf. “The chains are shattered, Fate moves! The weaver makes her choice and the moment is here! Crossroads of choice!”
He took a step back and with a loud shriek, his voice undulating in the last few notes and lingering.
“Arrosh?” There was a sense of vigor around him now, almost enough to make me believe he wasn’t a orc more than a century old having been tortured for only the gods know how long. The air hummed with the threat of… of something.
Was it possible that he was using his [Kudan] Core to see the future right now?
Because I was in a world where the rules of MSS weren’t bound by 2D pixels or speech bubbles, Cores were only limited by the imagination. [Kudan], a Core that could only be used to predict what move an enemy used in battle, could be used to tell the future in other circumstances. And from what I could see, Arrosh was going through some kind of epiphany right now, seeing the near future.
It reminded me of the stories of the oracles of old, men and women driven mad by the possibilities of the future. I knew Arrosh was’t quite sane but seeing it in the flesh made me take a step back away from the man.
He turned to me, eyes burning with empty intensity. “Quick. My cane. The enemy approaches!”
***
Comments
Michael H
Equilibrium would be a good name for lockes party. Since the end goal is for them to all work together and grow stronger together and to undoubtably trust each other with each others lives. For them to be complete equilibrium
Seungmin Lim
You sir, have surmised exactly how Lock feels and what I wanted to do for you guys. You guys feeling Lock's frustration the same way he does. Afraid this plot point won't be revisited for quite awhile :(
Mordock 24
It’s painful not knowing for sure whether Delas had a core to cancel Lock’s attack, or he really did just hesitate
