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Chapter 94: Party (8)
🕑 Added 2024-07-15 04:43:07 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
Ever went skydiving?
A coworker described it to me once. He said it felt like he was flying and said I should try it sometime.
It did not feel like flying.
I hurtled in complete darkness, accompanied by the screams of the Scavengers. Despite the lack of light,, I could feel tiny stinging sensations cutting into my cheek and my eyes. It felt like I was in outer space, the deep bellow of the Gargantuan Death Worm lending a space-opera-esque feel to the whole experience. Hurtling towards the ground at 120 miles per hour, tears fell out of my eyes and not all of them were due to the pain. The inevitability of death and the fact that I didn’t know when it was forced my mind to huddle in a corner and pray that it’d all be over.
How wide was this hole?... and How deep was it? How long did I had to think of something?
Then there was the first of the splats.
Not very long, it seemed.
It was less of a splat and more of a thud, a woomf followed by a rippling crack. Definitely the sound of something (someone) hitting the ground.
How could something sound so far away yet so near?
Another splat.
It felt like those splats were kicking my already cowering mind into submission.
But I’d been through this before.
When Arione sent me into the sky, hundreds of feet in the air –that’s what it felt like at the time anyways– I’d faced the same fear. Provided, at the time I’d felt more rage than fear due to the whole circumstances, but it was the same. I was in the air in freefall and had to figure a way down without splattering myself like an egg dropped from the third floor for a science project.
‘Remember. Think. This isn’t Earth. This is MSS.’
A way out.
I had to grab a hold of something. A tree branch. Or an outcropping rock. Something.
Another splat, woomf and crack.
I screamed and then laughed, scared shitless.
Momentum. I had to slow my momentum.
I already knew that. Was I going to die?
How fast was I traveling? How far away was I from the ground?
Another woomf and the sound of steel striking the ground, probably falling from the Scavenger’s hand upon instant death. Whatever weapon it had been, it was heavy enough to clang once and twice, throwing sparks into the air. For just a second, a split second, I saw how close the ground was, how fast I was hurtling towards it and all the other corpses that had been ripped apart due to their abrupt landing.
And I saw how I’d survive.
Adrenaline took, filling my heart and sending out a pulse of mana so pure and so strong that I saw strands of bright blue flow from the [Lunar Shield] still clutched to my chest.
“TIDAL FORCE!” I don’t know why I screamed the technique's name, but in that moment of intense focus; all my attention was fixed on not dying and making sure that everything was perfect.
One of the bodies on the ground came to life, shooting towards me like I yanked on it with a string. The body collided with me about twenty feet before I hit the ground. I couldn’t even yell out in pain as something definitely went pop and crack in my body. No matter how much softer a human body was than the ground, it was still solid matter and my momentum had been no joke. Plus, the guy had been wearing armor.
Before I could register whether I had slowed or not, a secondary blow hit me. But instead of hitting me in the ribs, this one hit my entire body at once and I gurgled, tumbling in the ground in a tangle of limbs and dirt. Subconsciously I tucked my limbs into a ball, praying to all the six gods of MSS that there wasn’t a dagger or sword that was rolling with me. Just my shield which had actually protected my ribs from the initial impact from the corpse.
My ribs were ok. I think.
My shoulder on the other hand was dislocated, probably because I used it to hold the shield.
And those were all the thoughts I had, lying on the ground and face down in the dirt. Starting from my coworker telling me about skydiving all the way to the shield… just memories I was reminiscing while lying there at the bottom of this newly created canyon. It felt like all the thoughts and my last minute maneuver were just memories or a dream. So surreal that I kept repeating the thoughts over and over again, stuck in some cycle.
Eventually, the bodies stopped falling.
I took in a shuddering breath and released it, continuing the shudder. I repeated it couple of times until my breathing was smooth again, though I had to start over a lot.
I was alive.
I was alive.
I was… alive.
I rolled over and almost screamed as fiery pain went through my shoulder, traveling down my elbow and all the way to my hands in the mental imagery of spider webs forming on an expensive china tea set.
This was good. Pain meant I was alive.
The pain grounded me. It told me that the thoughts replaying in my brain had no use anymore. I fell. I flew. I survived. That was that. For now, I was on the ground and there would be no skydiving in the foreseeable future. The pain also gave me something to do, I took a healing potion from my Dimension Ring, uncorking it drinking it straight. It tasted metallic and grimy, like motor oil mixed with blood. Anything but pleasant.
But right now, discomfort was a friend and the only thing keeping me from falling to the floor, shuddering and muttering to myself. Locked in my own thoughts due to the sheer fear from-
Oh. I already did that.
The pain started up again as the Healing Potion went to work. It mended broken bones, set them right –as long as the injury wasn’t too bad, I wouldn’t have to set it before drinking the potion– and made my bones, muscles and skin sizzle from the process. I gritted my teeth and screamed just for the hell of it, definitely not because I was afraid, in pain and still in shock.
One mistake. One mistake and I would’ve died.
If that weapon had fallen even a second later, or I hadn’t seen the body-
‘Think about those later. Later. Or never. Assess the situation. Figure out what’s happening.’
“And do what you have to do.” I closed my eyes, centering myself.
Slowly, I went through the exercise Arrosh had taught me. I focused on the pain, imagining it like a white ball. A lot of people think that fear and pain are the same thing, but Arrosh taught me differently. When he shoved his hand into my shoulder wound –I was never going to let him live that down– he had used the pain as a motivator. To wake me up from my stupor. I was doing the same, amplifying my pain so that my mind had no room for emotions like panic.
Hard reality set in and only absolute truths remained.
When I took a breath and released it, it came out calm and smooth.
I checked my body systematically, like checking the buffs of a character before heading into a boss room. Arms were fine. Ribs were good. Legs were fine.
So I got up and moved.
‘Assess.’ That was the first step.
I was in a giant chasm created by a Gargantuan Death Worm. I was so deep underground that the light didn’t reach here and my [Sight] stat certainly wasn’t enough to grant me Darkvision. That meant to ‘assess’, I needed light. Where could I find light down here?
My foot kicked against something soft and I jumped away six feet, hand reaching for a sword that was no longer there.
Right, my katana had broken and Stole lent me a spare sword. I’d broken that too.
Whatever I kicked hadn’t moved because it wasn’t alive. With determination, I got down on all fours and stumbled around, my hands spread out and trying to find the thing again. I wished that the [Seeing Crystal] had come with Dark Vision. Maybe I could ask Bilgrun about it next time.
I found the body within seconds.
With practiced hands, I found the adventurer’s hands, stripping him of his Dimension Ring. Then his pockets, then looked at his weapons.
‘Tch. No sword.’ I clicked my tongue and quickly checked the adventurer’s Dimension Ring, putting it on and sorting through the contents with my mind. It was like putting your hand into a drawer or a bag and rummaging around, using nothing but the sense of touch to figure out what it is you were trying to take out. If it was your own Dimension Ring, it was easier, simply because it was your own stuff. Someone else’s? Takes a bit of time.
Kyrian had been much better at this than me.
Thinking of the young mage made me redouble my efforts and soon I found what I was looking for.
A torch.
“Reminder to self.” My voice was rough and I coughed immediately, saying the next part in broken staccato between coughs. “Buy torches.”
Something as simple as hearing my own voice, reminding myself to buy torches, that there was a future transformed my efforts. From desperate need to survive, a distraction to the hopelessness situation I was in to a full-on mission with a goal and clear steps; something doable and completely within the realm of possibility. This might be the craziest and most outlandish thing that’d happened to me so far, but I knew that I would be fighting literal forces of nature in the far, far future.
“One step at a time.” I told myself.
I spent the next half hour or so, hauling bodies and scavenging the scavengers. I chuckled to myself at that little joke, just to keep the silence at bay.
The canyon was cold, so cold and damp that it felt more like a cave than a canyon. There was no wind, a small mercy, but I was starting to grow cold and tired nonetheless. The mind could only do so much, and I’d been hunting for days. Combine that with the last ditch effort to escape the Scavengers, the sheer mental shock of being near a Grade 4 monster, then the whole thing with the fall…
There are some things that no health or mana potions could take care of.
I needed rest.
Sleep.
Food.
“I know it’s in here somewhere.” I growled, anger unlying the words. Frustration was building up. What if I couldn’t find shelter? Food? What if there were monsters-
“Less than an hour and already panicking.” I forced myself to take another deep breath and then another, until I was no longer shaking. I focused on the pain again, counting to ten.
Then I searched.
The Scavengers were a clan of hundreds of adventurers, most of them outlaws. Chances were that most of them didn’t have a home. Didn’t have their own beds. And in that case-
After an hour or two of searching dozens, maybe a hundred, Dimension Rings –I think; I’d lost track of time– I found it..
A small cube that fit in the palm of my hand. [Portable Temporary Shelter].
I found a nice corner and put the cube down on the floor. Then touching it to with a finger, I leaked a little mana into it. The cube whirled internally, like a computer booting up. Then shot out a superimposed cube, made of translucent blue light. An item that provided temporary shelter. Of course, there was no way all those Scavengers slept on the ground like savages.
It wouldn’t keep monsters out, but it would conceal me to anything lower than… than whatever Grade of monster this cube was designed to keep out. Since the monsters around this field were mostly grade 7, I could safely assume anything 7 and lower wouldn’t notice the cube. Plus, like all temporary shelters, it changed the environment within. Warm air quickly filled the small space and I lay down, my eyelids heavy.
The downside was that it was a portable temporary shelter. Nothing was solid, I would still sleep on the rocky floor and lie amongst the corpses that littered this place.
Better than nothing.
I went to sleep.
***
Skaris stomped.
No. He did not stomp. Stomping was for humans, for elves. For those whose anger was loud yells and screaming.
Skaris advanced. And his anger burned.
“Skaris, wait-”
Kyrian Tricilan, the human mage, grabbed a hold of his shoulders and spun him around. Or tried to.
Once Skaris made the human aware that he was turning only because he chose to, Skaris turned and looked down at his comrade in arms, the Magus of their hunting party. One of those he claimed as a brother in arms long ago when they were locked in chains, under the rule of green-skinned orcs.
“Going back there in suicide.” Tricilan’s voice was low. “Look. LOOK.”
Reluctantly, Skaris forced himself to open his eyes. Not the flesh eyes, but the eyes of understanding, for his mind to comprehend the battle before him.
Men screamed. Men died. They sniveled their pathetic cries. The Death Worm raged and fed on their blood.
…Slaveborn, his brother, was there.
What more was there to be said?
“Sslaveborn would come for usssss.” Skaris muttered and turned to look at the others.
The whelp wilted under his gaze and she rightfully should. She had been giving off fear like a rat ever since they got to safety. The moment he had mentioned returning for Slaveborn, her fear grew and grew and grew, until it showed in her face, her body and everything she did. Tainting the group from within. Fear was an infectious thing, a disease. Still… Skaris could see the silent and steady rock in her.
Yes. She’d go. She would not move first, but she’d go to find Lock.
Still, she was afraid. All of them were.
It made them so weak. Oh, Skaris knew very well what it was like to give in to fear.
“He would.” Tricilan agreed. “But we’re not him.”
Skaris felt his eyes widen in righteous fury. “Tricssssilan, you dare sssssuggesssst-”
The three of them had escaped the scorching sands of the Desert. They had walked arm in arm, back to back against the Soldiers of the Human Empire. They had leapt in the way of arrows and claws, thrown by Orcs and Monsters alike.
And Tricilan dared to suggest-
“I’m suggesting we rest.” Tricilan shook his head. “When I was with the Akka Xaluds, before we went to the Samak Desert, we were all given a report on the regional Field Bosses. That… worm-thing, was one of them. Or the same species as one. It’s a grade 4 field boss, we can’t go up against it right now.”
Skaris saw the look that Tricilan shot to the Vetilian, for support.
“Mr. Kyrian is right.” Vetilian gritted her teeth, frustration on her face. She, too, had the blood of a warrior flowing in her veins; ancient blood that passed down the art of the fight. “I, too, want to get to Mr. Lock… but there is nothing to offer him in our current state.”
That calmed Skaris’ anger. But in place of the anger, came something else.
Impatience.
“We do not posssssesssss the time.”
“And neither do we possess the strength.” Tricilan shook his head. “We need rest. Time to recover. But other than that… we need help. There’s simply no way we can find Lock in there right now.”
Skaris turned to look at the scene.
They were standing on top of a hill, the beginning of this field. The point where the Scavengers scalped them, day after day after day. It was a good position, able to see most of the field. But right now, the only thing they could see was the Gargantuan Death Worm in the distance. Skaris growled softly, frustrated.
“No doubt, Marc Pointell will organize a subjugation party. Tomorrow at the latest. We can be a part of it, he won’t deny us. Not when we’re so pivotal to his plans.” Tricilan muttered, almost to himself. “Even if we cannot be part of the main subjugation party, we can be part of the support crew. And if we can get close enough…”
“And if they do not?” Skaris asked.
“They will. They must. A Field Boss this close to the city and attacking a registered Clan.. Mr. Pointell will need to work fast.” Vetilian was staring at the damage wrought by the monster. “The problem would be finding him amidst all this.”
The whelp took a deep breath. “I can. I can find him.”
Of course. The whelp was a [Pioneer], possessing the sixth sense to find anything she put her mind to.
“Then we will rendezvous with the subjugation party tomorrow and look for an opportunity to search for Lock.” Then Tricilan told him in a whisper. “Skaris, you’re acting out of fear right now. We can’t have that. Lock… Lock would be calm.”
Skaris opened his mouth to shoot something back, hot and fierce but stopped himself. A warrior who acted in fear was no warrior at all. He had been thinking about the weakness of others but had missed the fact that his own fear had infected his own judgement.
He saw the human mage, trying his best to keep the party together. The party that Slaveborn created. He saw in the mage’s eyes the desperation, the worry and the nervousness and beneath it all, a reflection of his own impatience. Tricilan was being patient and doing what needed to be done, even if it went against their instincts.
Just like how Slaveborn often did.
Skaris’ fingers gripped his spear then ungripped it, keeping his breathing even and level. “I will keep the first watch.”
So the party camped, next to the visage of dying men and their screams.
Along with the fear.
***
Comments
Terra
Damnnn bro!! Now that's loyalty right there. Can you imagine Arione's party to do the same for him? Nooo not at all haha. I'm sure the team will be reunited soon enough.
Mordock 24
Good to see lock reverting to survival mindset
