Zachary Scott
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Chapter 105 - The Illusionist
🕑 Added 2024-10-27 15:04:52 +0000 UTCWe'd lost Kalcus's men somewhere in the market streets after several minutes of pursuit, but I knew they wouldn't give up that easily. Not if they'd gone to such lengths to track us down in the first place. Despite a few minutes of flat-out running, I was barely breathing hard as we slowed to a fast walk, trying to blend with the crowd while keeping alert for any sign of the black cloaks our pursuers were wearing.
“See anything?” I asked Lyria quietly.
“Not yet,” she said, but her hand hadn't left her sword hilt.
The district's namesake became clear as we entered—bioluminescent fungi high above, smears of glowing graffiti all over buildings, streaks of color on people and clothing, and thick mist swirling and churning over the ground. The mist picked up every splash of color and gave the impression of wading through a shifting, neon river.
While the rest of the city was built to circle the huge mountain of rock, Gloomglow District existed inside the rock. It looked like a towering giant had struck the mountain with an axe, leaving a wedge-shaped cleft that ran miles deep. Buildings clung to the walls or sprouted from the ground like luminous teeth in a crooked grin.
I risked a glance behind us. Still no sign of pursuit for now.
Above, thousands of patches of fungal sacs were stuck to the ceiling. Every minute or so, they opened, releasing a cloud of glowing spores in ultra-saturated teals, purples, and pinks that drifted downward, mingled with other spores, and then slowly floated back upwards.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” I asked, lifting my eyes to admire it even as I kept scanning for threats.
“Hardly the time for sightseeing,” Lyria said. Unlike me, she was still trying to catch her breath, forehead plastered with sweat as she looked over her shoulder. The benefits of hitting Iron rank really were quite nice, even outside of actual combat.
“You really think we lost them?” Lyria asked.
“Not sure. But I may have brought us this way because the Aspirant's Guild is in Gloomglow.”
Lyria planted her hands on her hips, glaring. “Seriously, Brynn? I thought we were running for our lives.”
“I mean... we were multi-tasking. We ran for our lives, yes. But we did it toward the place I wanted to go.”
With a sigh, she lifted her eyes to the floating spores, voice tinged with reluctant admiration. “It is beautiful. In a creepy, sort of gross way. But what the hell are those?”
“Lucky for you, I asked a guy that exact question over a game of Vice the other day. Only needing to sleep an hour a day has its advantages,” I added the part about sleep when I saw the look she was giving me, as if I was wasting valuable time playing games when I should be training or searching fo rour friends. “Anyway, he said they're called Gloom Blooms. Apparently, the swamp hag made them with magic during the deepwar. Somebody modified them so the fog no longer makes you bleed out of your eyes and your ass, and—”
Lyria's cheeks puffed suddenly like she was holding her breath.
I grinned. “I said they modified it. It's safe now.”
It was several seconds before she finally breathed again, but didn’t seem particularly happy about it. “So the swamp hag cursed most of the tomte, then she tried to wipe the rest of them out with the cursed tomte and a twisted army of monsters. And none of the survivors thought toying around with her old magic might be a little... unwise?”
“Believe it or not, I had the same thought,” I said. “The tomte I asked didn't appreciate the question. But, basically, he said 'no.' Using her Gloom Blooms is like... drinking blood out of your enemy's skull or something. I think it's a flex for them.”
“What?” Lyria asked.
I paused. “You guys don't do the skull blood thing on Eros?”
“Gods. No. That's disgusting.”
“To be fair, I think people only do that in movies where I come from. But I guess it's still weird of us to think of it in the first place.”
Rather than ask me what a movie was, Lyria shook her head and looked at the mist rolling around our waists with apprehension. She cupped some of the fog in her hands. It twisted around her fingers before settling down to float at our waists.
“This fog could work in our favor if they find us again,” she noted. “Hard to see what's beneath it.”
“That's what I'm hoping,” I said. “Let's keep moving, but stay alert. Keep an eye out for anyone following us. It's also worth noting there are a lot of muggers in Gloomglow. Apparently, I draw their attention.”
“You got mugged?”
“No. A couple guys did try, though,” I said as we started walking at a pace that was quick but not suspicious. “But I summoned Deborah, and she scared off anybody who gave me trouble.”
“You mean your golden-haired bug thing with swords for arms?”
“I think she prefers it if you call them blades, but yeah. I also got to try out this boon I have from my ascension tokens, which could have been a factor.”
“What boon?”
“It lets me fill Woods with a sense of overwhelming dread.” The ability had cost mana just like one of my other abilities, along with more concentration than I would have expected. It didn’t seem like the sense of dread was strong enough to make enemies drop their weapons and run in combat. Instead, it was more like an ability I could use in subtle situations, like diffusing a fight before it started.
Lyria stared. “How are you going to keep track of all these items and abilities you’re gaining?”
“Practice,” I said. “I imagine I'll still screw up and miss opportunities here and there. But I've only really had a few days to test everything out together. With more time, I'll get better. I've been having a ton of fun just experimenting and finding out synergies. I've also made a few interesting breakthroughs. Like I can project elements out of the back of my head, my knee caps, my eyes, and so on. I had just assumed I needed to use my hands. I had the idea after I shot all that stuff out of my mouth back in Beastden. Remember that?”
Lyria grinned. “Yes. Believe it or not, I do remember the time you vomited up a mouthful of burning liquid on a giant, fifty-foot-tall maggot bat thing that was birthing naked rats from its back.”
“Well, yeah. I realized then that I could probably project elements from anywhere on my body. Maybe even from my weapons. Imagine if I could shoot someone with a Silver Scream arrow full of Dragon's Tail, then project Bombroot right from the arrow. I'm not sure if that's possible when I'm not touching it, but it's exciting trying to figure this stuff out.”
“Yeah, well, we also need to teach you how to defend yourself.”
“What do you mean? That's exactly what—”
Lyria surprised me by suddenly slapping my cheek. She stared at me dead-eyed, then smiled. “See? You have all these fancy spells, but you need training.”
I shrugged, rubbing my cheek. “You're not going to get an argument from me there. Anytime you're ready. Just give the word.”
“Later,” she said. “I'm still excited to watch this sparring match at the Aspirant's Guild. And this place gives me the creeps.”
“Oh, by the way. Tomte are so short you might barely see them above the mist. Try not to step on any. I learned they get really offended when you do that.”
“—wait.” Lyria tensed. “Behind us. Don't look.”
My skin prickled with that familiar sensation from my Aether-touched boon. “How many?”
“Three. Black cloaks. It's them.”
“Shit. Already?” We cut into the city's main street, which wasn't much of a main street. It was like the biggest opening in a maze of small, cramped, sketchy alleyways. Ramshackled wooden buildings, tents, and the occasional stone structure flanked us, pressing in claustrophobically as we joined the slow-moving throng of pedestrians.
Nobody here seemed to be in a hurry, unlike everywhere else I had seen in Thrask. That worked in our favor—we could move steadily without drawing attention.
Many had glowing paint on their faces, armor, or weapons. There were phrases haphazardly written on walls and doors like graffiti, images that looked like art, and crude sketches that children could have made.
I spotted a phrase that reminded me of Bloody Steve on the roof of a tent that read, “The only good gloomer is a dead gloomer.” Thinking of the angry little tomte reminded me that I still needed to find time to reach out to our traveling party from the Black Wood, but priorities were priorities. Right now, the priority was not getting caught by whoever Kalcus had sent after us.
I guided us through the crowd, taking seemingly random turns while actually looking for defensible positions. The more I saw of Gloomglow, the more I realized it was perfect for losing pursuers—or getting ambushed.
The graffiti kept going, and I found myself reading it as we tried to lose ourselves in the crowd. The words seemed endless. Bright strokes of paint in various styles of handwriting were everywhere.
“THE NINTH REMAINED. FOR THIS, WE WORSHIP HIS GODSHIP.” Below it, in angrier strokes: “FUCK ITHARIEL AND HIS THRONE.”
We turned a corner. More messages caught my eye as we moved: “The stars dim. The gods flee. Forsaken rise, because WE are forsaken. Forgotten, “ painted in sickly green. “AZMERIA BURNS ETERNAL” in orange flames that seemed to flicker. Someone had crossed it out and written “Burns? More like burned out like the rest of her kind.”
A newer message in pristine white: “TOURNAMENT ODDS - RATHBORNE 3:1 / VALEWICK 5:1 / MYSTERY IRON 20:1. PLACE BETS AT STICKY STEVE'S.”
“They're getting closer,” Lyria murmured. “And they're not trying to hide anymore.”
I nodded, picking up speed and having to shove people covered in glowing paint out of our way.
We passed under a bridge between buildings where someone had painted: “CELETHIEL LIVES. Seen in Virian Peak,” and underneath in different handwriting: “Celethiel's dead and gone you gullible fuck”
I glanced back and saw them—three figures in black, moving with purpose through the crowd. They walked together, almost as if in formation, hoods drawn despite the warmth from the glowing fungi above.
“One Iron, two Woods,” I said, reading their levels and ranks for the first time. “The Iron is level 30, and the Woods are both 50.”
“Can you use your fear thing on the Woods?”
“During the fight, sure. I doubt it'll do us much good if I try right now. It won't work on the Iron, anyway. He'd probably convince them to keep going.”
“The fight?” Lyria asked.
“Better to expect it and be wrong than the other way around. Right?”
Lyria's nostrils flared, but she nodded. “Alright. Any plan?”
“Well,” I said. “We know they're coming, so they don't have the element of surprise. And they're the ones following us. That means we get to pick our ground. That's an advantage. So we don't let on that we know until we find a good place to fight. I'm looking for some kind of choke-point to make our stand.”
“Shouldn't be hard,” Lyria said. “This place is a mess.”
She was right, of course. The alleys behind buildings were littered with broken palettes of wood, piles of rubbish, buckets, and other trash piled and leaning against walls. Often, the only way through was to turn sideways and shimmy, hoping we weren't stepping on something hidden beneath the ever-present swirling mist at our waists. The trick was finding one of the choke points with enough space behind it for us to defend and have room ourselves.
We wove between a crowd of dark-robed tomte who looked like they might be performing a cultist ritual in the middle of the street. A screaming mushroom in the center of their group was melting and boiling into a glowing pile of goop. Flashes of magic lit the swirling fog red and yellow. The tomte all watched, eyes closed and hands raised. A pair of children pointed and laughed while a third did her best impression of the poor mushroom.
“What the hell?” Lyria whispered, craning her neck as we passed.
“I think it may be better not to ask,” I said, touching her back to urge her onward. Part of me wanted to help the poor little mushroom thing, but it looked like it was already too far gone.
A casual glance over my shoulder showed the three figures had gained ground on us, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
“Assuming we survive these assholes and you make it to the Aspirant’s Guild,” Lyria said. “What’s your plan? Are you going to just... use everything at your disposal and avoid answering questions?”
“I've been thinking about that,” I said. “I don't know if I need to worry too much about my unique situation being noticed. Several of my skills could arguably just be variations of one ability. Forge Echo, Awaken Mana, and Animate Shield are all just... summoning something. Even if I had all three equipped simultaneously, I could explain it away as a tier upgrade reward. And then there's Elemental Chain. Yeah, it lets me spray elements, but who says I can't fashion that spray into a dagger to hold? And just like that, I've merged six active skills into two or three. I can explain how Devour Mana is healing me by using Healing Potions with Elemental Chain, too. See? It's easy.”
“Hmm,” Lyria said. “I guess that could work if people aren't paying close attention. What about your passives?”
“I'm not worried about those. Most of them are subtle and won't draw much attention, especially from random spectators.”
“And what about... the whole... other mana thing? The dark mana.”
I nodded. That was the question, wasn't it? “Well... I've been messing with that at night. I can use a tiny fraction of what I showed in Beastden before it starts to feel... wrong. But as long as I don't push it too far, I think I can just subtly improve spells here and there. Again, it's not going to be obvious how it's happening for now. So I think I can use it sparingly. I just need to be careful not to get carried away and release too much into my body. Honestly, the most suspicious thing about me might just be my insane mana recovery. But my Mana Bender's Raiment may solve that. Nobody will guess what a huge amount of mana that thing sucks up. If I use it even a few times, my mana capacity and regeneration will look a little more normal. Maybe.”
Lyria gave me a concerned look. “I still don't like that you're dabbling with dark mana. We all saw what it turned that Eclipsed into. And when you were full of it, you kind of tried to kill us.”
“I know, but I won't let it get that far. It's a tool. A dangerous one, but a tool. And it means I can afford to keep my ass out of dungeons and having to harvest dark mana crystals from beasts. I'm keeping my bedroll completely fed and satisfied on my own right now, and I'm also building up tolerance to this stuff. Eventually, it's going to be a huge weapon for me.”
“As long as you promise to be careful.”
“I'm always careful,” I said. “Even when I'm being reckless.”
Lyria sighed.
I took another look at the men and felt a chill. They were much closer now, maybe only twenty feet behind us and closing. “We need to find that choke point. Now.”
We turned down an alley with no sign of other people. The walls were covered in neon green, purple, and orange lights. Trash was scattered everywhere, sometimes barely poking up from the fog and other times towering nearly up to the roof of the cave. Above, slow-floating balls of saturated light drifted down and up like yo-yos of magic light in slow motion.
I glanced back and saw the men break into a sprint.
“Shit,” I hissed. “Run.”
We ran as fast as we dared, unable to see if we were about to plant our feet on uneven ground or an obstacle. I heard the slap of boots on stone behind us as our pursuers gave chase.
Wood shattered, and a man swore. A moment later, I heard him running again.
We ran, ducking through tarps and hanging scraps of cloth between buildings. I caught a clothesline full of wet tomte clothes to the face, ducked beneath a tipping pile of crates, and tried a large door that wouldn't give.
Lyria turned to face our pursuers and drew her sword and shield.
“Not here,” I said, tugging at the back of her shirt to pull her farther down into the alley. Wood was piled on either side of the alley just a short way ahead. It wasn't ideal as I had been looking for, but it would do.
I heard the men breathing heavily and busting through obstacles as we took our position and turned to face the attackers.
I summoned an Elemental Spike from a vial of Frost Finger potion—one of the recent acquisitions I had purchased with my haul of gemstone money.
The dagger formed in my hand like a curved, glittering icicle.
Lyria eyed the dagger. “What the hell is that?”
“Yeah,” I said, still catching my breath. “I'll have to fill you in on my new potions later.”
Despite all the training I had done over the last three days, I still felt slightly overwhelmed as I tried to decide on the best use of my mana and abilities. With even more potions at my disposal, the number of possible uses and applications was dizzying. Some part of me knew I would likely miss the perfect use for every situation, but I didn't always need to be perfect. I just needed something that worked.
Ice at least had the advantage of not spreading and possibly catching us in the blaze, choking us with smoke, or blowing up like Bombroot would and killing whoever might be on the other side of these walls.
I debated summoning Forge Echo and Deborah immediately, but decided it would be better to surprise them after they officially engaged us. I had my Mana Bender's Raiment stuck on my chest and ready to explode into a suit of armor if needed, Abyss Walker Boots ready to activate, and my Silver Scream Bow waiting in my slip space. One arrow was loaded with my new Clinging Shadows potion and the other two were full of what had become my trusted combo of Bombroot and Dragon's Tail. Unfortunately, the Bombroot arrow and Dragon's Tail felt like risks right now. I decided to save the bow for the moment.
The three men finally came fully into view. Up close, I was surprised to see their robes covered expensive and well-made armor and clothing. They also had the kind of handsome faces with squared jaws and symmetrical features I had begun to associate with nobility.
“Done running?” the Iron asked. He was unusually tall with a straight-backed posture, a gray beard, and wavy hair that fell to his shoulders. Despite the gray hair, his skin was smooth, unwrinkled, and looked young.
One of the level 50 Woods was burly with broad shoulders and an athletic build. A long sword hung at his hip, and he moved with the grace of somebody who probably knew how to use his weapon. His blonde hair was trimmed close to his head and he had the hard eyes of a fighter.
The other Wood had a curled mustache and thick red eyebrows. He waited behind the Iron, arms folded and head cocked as if he was curious to see what we planned to do, but not particularly concerned.
“I don't know who sent you,” I said, “but I hope they told you what they were putting you up against. We're armed, and we'll fight if you make us.”
Lyria shifted on her feet beside me. The leather of her gloves creaked as she gripped her sword hilt tighter.
“You're not like us,” the Iron said. “That's enough. You're vermin. Rodents.”
“Last chance to walk away,” I warned. For added effect, I reached into both Woods and pushed the Wood Aura from my Ascension Trophy on them.
Even the hardened warrior took a step back, eyes suddenly concerned. The man with the red mustache tapped the tall Iron and said something quietly.
The Iron's face twisted with annoyance as he shoved both men roughly forward. “What's wrong with you two?”
At his words, both men seemed to overcome the influence of my aura. Without the Iron, I wondered if that would have actually worked. With him, it probably wasn't worth the mana, so I released the aura.
All three men stood maybe thirty or forty feet away and started inching closer, eyes full of deadly intent.
Despite being ready to kill Rake when we fought in Beastden, I still hadn't grown calloused to the idea of killing living people. Sometimes, I still thought about the cursed tomte village I had wiped out in the Black Wood and wondered if I could have handled things differently.
But if these guys attacked... what choice would we have?
The Iron pursed his lips and shook his head. “You think we can all walk away from this? Nah, nah. We've got a message to send, rodent.”
“What's your message?” I asked.
“It's from Kalcus Rathborne. Ring any bells?” asked the Iron.
“Yeah,” I said. “He told me something about his rank that was supposed to impress me. And then I kicked his ass with nothing but shields.”
The man's face twitched as he stepped closer, clutching his wand tighter. “Watch your tone. Kalcus didn't take you seriously. If he had, the guards would still be cleaning you off the stone.”
“Okay,” I said simply. “So the message is that Kalcus only lost because he was surprised? And he’s so tough he was afraid to come after me himself, so he sent goons? Anything else?”
The Iron's face ticked with rage. “We were only supposed to rough you up a bit until Kalcus got here. But accidents happen, don't they?”
The swordsman smiled as he tugged steel from its sheath with a sound like a whisper. The neon light caught his blade as he gave a flourish.
The man with the wand gave a lazy gesture for his friends to advance.
Here goes, then.
Talia
Scouting potential Aspirants had been more difficult than intended. Even with my... unique paved path abilities granted by my role as a game manager, I was still struggling.
I sat in my personal space, which was simply furnished and covered in comfortable blankets and pillows. I sat cross-legged as I split my focus across dozens of eyes, each of which currently roamed the city of Thrask.
With Amuntep's help, I had identified all the promising slaves, nobility, and potential Aspirants who might give our plan the best hope of success. Most of them were currently doing uninteresting things, like eating, talking, training, or, in one case, bedding three men at once.
Lucky woman.
As a courtesy, I kept my focus dimmed on that particular eye's view.
The biggest limitation of the Eye of Uvu was that it couldn't follow individuals into their personal spaces.
I flicked my focus through the many eyes, and then focused in on the man who never removed his helmet. Well, almost never. He seemed to bathe at least three times per day, and he did remove his helmet for that. He was rather striking, and it surprised me that he seemed to go to such pains to keep his face hidden, even from the red-haired girl who was clearly enamored with him.
With a face like that, maybe it became tiresome, though. Maybe the helmet let him focus on his obsession with training and kept women from soliciting him at all hours of the day. Gods only knew, but he was interesting, and I often found myself drawn to watching him in particular.
Right now, he was running through an alleyway in Gloomglow and being pursued by three men.
Interesting. It was always interesting with him.
I dimmed my focus on all the other eyes, sharpening my view of the conflict.
I pulled up a pile of parchment, referencing my notes on each subject we had marked for watch. This one was Brynn Stygos. Our spies within the adventurer's guild had reported a very dramatic spike in guild points from him. We didn't get details on how or what had earned him those points, but we did know it was a highly unusual number.
So far, the only real note I had on the man was that he bathed a lot, and that he didn't seem to spend quite enough time in his personal space sleeping. Assuming the two to four hours he spent per day in his personal space were spent sleeping, it still meant he was operating on far too little sleep. But he never seemed to show any ill-effects. In fact, his mine appeared sharp as a whip from what I could tell.
But there was also a report that he had clashed with Kalcus Rathborne in public view and bested him with only one ability. Kalcus was ranked in the top 100 of Irons at the moment. For an unranked and unknown Iron to do something like that...
Yes. I was very excited to watch how this would play out. I only hoped the three pursuers weren't about to waste a potentially interesting candidate for our plans.
Brynn and the red-haired girl stopped and drew their weapons behind a pile of wooden crates.
“Come on now, Brynn... Show me if you're going to be the answer I'm searching for...”
Comments
DuskDeadman
To be fair, it's fairly true to real life. Both present and historically.
Andres Ceva
Thanks for the chapter!!! Personally not a fan of the villian caricaturization of nobles, too much of an oveplayed cliche playing games when I should be training or searching fo rour friends. (space) his mine appeared sharp as a whip from what I could tell. (mind)
Ben Bass
TYFTC! I like that even when faced with a direct challenge Brynn still will try to avoid fighting, here with the fear aura. I think that aura can be great in a large scale battle, keeping a bunch of lower ranked away from him allowing him to focus on larger threats. One thing he will have to watch out for is paralysis by analysis - too many options to a min/maxer can be debilitating. He might have to limit his options at first and find synergies and then add more to his repertoire as he gets a good feel for what works best in a situation. Ooh, random thought - what happens if he stabs someone with a dagger made out of a healing potion? Now let’s see how he deals with these three, and remember take out the caster first!
Ichyban
my imagination how it could play out *** the Woods obviously succumbing to the wounds of Bombroot rain are seconds away from dying the silver though is resilient enough and is still on his fours denying the pain. For now. Brynn kneels down in front of him "still alive i see" he puts the tip of his icy weapon under the Irons chin and forces him to look into Brynns eyes. Holding his helmet in the other hand "unfortunate,..." Brynn glances shortly at Lyria "we don´t have time for more distractions." He closes his eyes an Deborah appears. He then opens his eyes again and looks with regret at the silver "You have seen my face now." A long second passes by and the Silver still struggling to resist the pain Bombroot has inflicted on him. Tears form and horror is all what he can express as he sees the creature "I Seraph sentence you to death. Executioner please do your duty."***
