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Chapter 48. A Broken Contract.
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 14:01:32 +0000 UTCRafe studied the magic circle that appeared, happy to get more practice for his mana sight. With his increased perception to the internal operations of magical constructs, he saw a lot more than he perhaps should have.
Contract magic’s biggest component was pure mana. It was a different pure from the enchantress' jade coloured arcane magic. This one was white. But there were other energy signatures he saw there too. He suspected one was soul magic, although he'd never seen that before. He watched as Andragoth finished her incantation.
Then he frowned.
“You just have to say what the contract is for. In this case, it's to not betray each other, first and foremost. And then to support each other like our lives depend on it.”
Everyone else hesitated. Rafe said the words first. He watched with rapt attention as a strand of intertwined mana types started to float towards him. They reached his body and…dissipated. Rafe's frown deepened.
He watched the same thing happen as everyone else said the words. He looked up slowly. The contract mage's eyes widened when she saw the suspicious look Rafe sent her way. Then she smiled and winked at him.
Rafe just hoped he hadn't doomed his team. He couldn't tell anyone the contract hadn't taken hold. At least not until he could figure out what the woman with the magical hair wanted.
They would fight immediately if he wasn't careful. At least Devila would attack without a second thought. He also remembered Devila's assertion that this was just her first floor.
How were these people connected to the legacy trial? Rafe couldn't figure it out. Were they also running the tower like him? Had they finished their trials together? That was the most plausible explanation, but this was Devila's first floor.
Rafe considered everything he knew about Devila. She was confident, even a little smug. She wanted to be the strongest, even believed she was. She was perhaps the lowest level here, aside from him of course. And this was her first floor. What did all that tell him? She had, or was having a special first floor, just like he'd had a special second floor. What did it mean?
With a shrug Rafe let it all roll off his back. Andragoth had taken to giving orders already.
Rafe was going to keep a careful eye on the woman. There must have been a motive to the woman's deceit. He had to find out what she knew. He was also only one of two people who knew that betrayal wasn't the end all for their little alliance.
****
“You have such a strong team,” Adrian, the blond gunslinger said as he came to stand next to Rafe.
Rafe only nodded.
In front of them, Devila and Quin went on to dismantle a full team of four in just under thirty seconds.
The warrior mage and healer assassin had decided to use Rafe's combination formation. Devila as long range and Quin helping if anyone came in close.
Though Devila did not start by throwing her whip up anymore. She'd wait, using spells and her signature exploding talismans to bombard the enemies from a distance. Once they were in the whip's range, she'd strike like a snake.
She'd become even more deadly over the day they'd travelled with this new group. So deadly in fact that Rafe thought everyone feared her. Whenever she participated in a fight, at least one person would die in five seconds, no matter how strong their opponents.
She'd also apparently gotten one more level for all her trouble.
Rafe sighed in response to Adrian’s subtle dig. He had fought a few times as well, and he struggled to end a fight if he didn't catch his enemy off guard. The stat difference was becoming a problem, but more so was the difference in specs. His offense was just too low to produce any noticeable damage in a small period. He wished he could use his sword.
“What can I say, I got lucky.”
“Indeed,” said Adrian. “You are very lucky. Lucky our glorious leader decided having you around is worth it to keep the other three.”
In the background, Aska spoke his head off as he tried to start a conversation with the masked assassin. His team were not sure if the assassin was a boy or girl, and neither were the assassin's team. They did nod along and gesture to Aska's words, but Rafe had yet to hear their voice.
“Great talk, Adrian. You know, you're a fun guy to be around,” Rafe said with a too-big smile. “You want me to ask Andragoth out on a date for you?”
“You better watch your mouth, pleb, or I'll…”
“You'll what? There is a contract, you know. I would be surprised if there wasn't some kind of penalty for unprovoked violence.”
Rafe walked away from the annoying blonde man. He needed to talk shop anyway.
“Hey Raedis,” he greeted his fellow melee warrior. “Want to have a spar later?”
The demon looked around and down at him. Then he grunted. Later, he meant, Rafe knew. The big guy reminded him of his old friend and party member from his days in Aeon. A pang of impatience hit him when he thought of Aeon.
The world would be wiped clean. The people would lose themselves once Noid recovered enough to start handing out trials again. He needed to climb the tower faster if he was going to have enough time to beat the enchantress' deadline.
He also needed a solution to his slow leveling speed. He was starting to see the use of stats. More than stats though he was seeing the importance of specifications. If he wanted to be relevant at the moment, he'd need very strong, very specialised equipment just to keep up with these guys.
He could fight them any time of the day, and he probably wouldn't lose. But he wouldn't win either. He watched the fight between Devila, Quin and the other team wind down. With his path as a pure warrior, would he ever have the sheer attack power Devila did? The freedom Quin did with her able to heal herself?
Well, he had his path, and they had theirs.
****
Rafe did not sleep for the two days they stayed with the other team. He watched them like a hawk, trying to suss out the contract mage's intentions in making a false contract.
“Rafael, why don't we take this on together?” the same woman said as they watched two groups meet to discuss terms.
They had run across a multitude of groups in the past few hours forming, or having already formed alliances. They couldn't let such groups form though, as only ten teams would qualify past this stage. A bigger alliance than theirs, or even an equal one was just a disaster waiting to happen.
“Yeah,” Devila said skeptically. “You guys take the left, and me and Quin will take the right.”
“No,” Andragoth said. “Me and Mr Kingsley will take them all.”
There was a small pause as everyone let the words sink in.
“Is that wise?” Devila asked first. “Our team do need Rafael to—”
“You are our leader, Andragoth,” Adrian interrupted her. “Let me fight with the laggard.”
Rafe wanted to sigh in exasperation. Teaming up had been good for his team overall. Unfortunately there was always the small negative. Devila had regressed to her confident self over the past few days, her mistakes on the first day forgotten. Rafe had also gone back to being the pariah on the team since he couldn't seem to finish off enemies when he engaged them.
“Don't worry about those two, Rafael. I have the utmost confidence in your abilities.”
Rafe gave her a flat look.
“Yeah…sure.”
Finishing Noid’s trial, speaking to the gods of Skyholm. In those moments, Rafe had felt he had the world at the tip of his sword. This whole floor of the trial was proving a sink for his confidence though.
His invulnerability had already been threatened on the previous floor when he'd lain in the dark for days. Now even his strength which he'd thought sufficient was turning into a joke.
“Do not lose your head, Mr Kingsley,” Andragoth instructed as they headed toward their targets. “You are not as weak as you think. I can tell. Even Raedis and the others can tell. I'm sure Adrian and Devi know too. That's why they are trying to get your mood down.”
“You really are cut out to be a leader, aren't you?” Rafe said, not bothering to hide his envy. “I know I'm not weak.”
“No, you don't know.”
“What are you talking about?” Rafe couldn't help but ask.
“Later. We seem to have been noticed. Get ready. I'll buff you. Maybe get you a bit more confidence.”
Rafe wasn't sure why Andragoth had chosen to approach the way she had. They could have sneaked up on the obviously distracted group but when he'd started to slow down and crouch the woman had only kept walking and talking. Not even lowering her voice in the hearing range of their enemies.
Rafe got into a stance, his spear pointed forward. Andragoth had her hood up, her short swords up as well.
“Only two of you, aye? Where's the rest of ‘em? You one of those who was eliminated who's trying to cause the rest of us problems?” the biggest man from the two teams spoke.
“You could say that,” Andragoth said with a shrug, her voice cold and professional as it always was when she came to deliver death.
Rafe launched himself ahead of her. He almost batted it aside out of instinct when he saw her mana move toward him through his racial ability. He fought his own instincts. Then when the spell hit him and he felt his blood start to boil, Rafe cursed himself for forgetting he didn't trust the woman as far as he could throw her.
“What did you do?!” he growled in her direction.
“Just focus on your enemies,” she said in reply, and Rafe saw her lower her swords through his racial ability.
He growled as he turned all his attention to those in front of him. He hated unreliable teammates more than he hated anything he could think of at the moment.
His blood boiled and he saw red. He did not have time to systematically try to get through his opponent's guards with skill and grace as he had been trying to do the whole floor so far. He just bulled through them when he got the chance.
Sure, a strong defensive spec meant automatic defense most of the time. But such flimsy things could be crushed. Rafe thrived on fighting stronger opponents. He had a skill to augment his strength. Why did his offense spec even matter?
He growled as he feinted a thrust. His opponent tried to step around and into the short range where a spear wielder should be disadvantaged. Rafe already had his dagger in his left hand. It was easy to send it through the man's left eye before his reactive force field, or veil, could activate.
Rafe was already charging the next. The trance took him. He had noticed an increased resistance to the skill over the last few floors. He only surmised it was because he wasn't using a sword, and therefore his Aeon's Sword Mastery skill.
Now something had triggered him. He was going to kill Andragoth after this. And the rest of the damn leeches too. So what if he failed the floor? He didn't even care about doing the tower. He wanted to go back home.
Only, where was home? Aeon, or Earth? Rafe shook his head. That did not matter. Only his enemies’ deaths did. And that bitch Andragoth was an enemy now too.
“You will die!” he said, and even he did not recognize his voice.
There were only five enemies left by now. All Rafe saw was red. They started to back pedal, looking scared or something. Rafe chased after them. Still somehow graceful and deadly even under all the anger he felt.
“DIE!”
And they all did.
Rafe stood there, not even panting. He frowned at the bodies he had mutilated with a spear. It hadn't been enough to tire him out.
Well, there were more still, weren't there? He turned to Andragoth, let his teeth show.
“Your turn, demon!”
Andragoth was smiling and starting to clap but she froze and frowned at him. She looked back to where their comrades were not looking at the two of them.
She sighed. “He didn't hear you. Good.”
She looked Rafe up and down.
“Even more curious. So you are not from the multiverse proper, if this is how you truly feel about demons?”
“I'm going to kill you,” Rafe said as he took one menacing step in her direction.
“Oh? Are you now?” the girl smiled widely. “You are weaker than I thought too. Not in terms of combat prowess, mind you. Your stats…I wonder what level you are.”
Rafe froze. Alarm bells went off at the back of his mind. His level was a secret. If she found out about it she would…
Rafe couldn't remember what would happen if she knew his level. What he did know however, was that it wouldn't matter if she died.
He flew at her. She blew some kind of powder toward him. Rafe tried to dodge around the attack but it was an impossible feat. He coughed as the powder made its way up his nose.
He waited one moment, two. Nothing seemed to be happening. He lifted his head and stared at his enemy then. Her attack had failed. Now it was time to teach her pain.
He took a step toward her and the next instant all he saw was the violet tinged sky with barely a layer between the atmosphere and space itself.
