Chapter 304
Chapter 304
"Talia, give Astria a message from Myrddin. Tell her if the hobgoblins try executing hostages, send a strong reminder why they spaced them out like that in the first place. Keep it vertical and off target. Hit Sae, Julien, and Charlotte after, from me. Tell them they don't have to help. But if they feel like pitching in, we've never needed it more."
Talia broke off from us, darting between onlookers, ducking beneath the wide gate of a gaping tank and she tore hell towards the twins.
I ran parallel to Nick, keeping pace. But only barely. My Agility was closing in on double his. How he was managing the speed was beyond me, until I noticed the way his armor had changed color.
He was glowing gold.
"Whatever the hell you're doing, I think your patron approves," I yelled over the cacophony of clanking.
"Yeah. Got a lot of juice," Nick panted, sparing a glance at me. "Dunno how long it's gonna last. We need to go in hard, fuck 'em up as much as we can with the time we have."
I glanced at the rapidly approaching ledge. "Maybe worry about the cliff first?"
"Nah." He grinned, a manic gleam in his eye. "Just aim for the bushes."
"It's a ninety-degree incline, motherfucker!"
"You trust me?""Fucking obviously!"
"Drop back a bit. Follow my lead."
"Already... am."
I trailed off, as Nick pulled ahead, gaining ground without any adjustment of speed on my part, sprinting towards the ledge without so much as a flicker of fear. He hit the ledge and leapt, no hesitation, catching enough air that I knew, instinctively, the landing was going to be fatal.
"What—" I cut off, slack jawed, as Nick shot straight outwards, fists out behind him.
The friend I'd once watched struggle to walk, flew.
"You idiot," I murmured, popping my flight charm, trying not to think about all the ways this was a terrible idea, fighting the wind to catch up with him. "Now that we're weightless and it'll be three times harder to do a damn thing, any other bright ideas?"
"Think they realized I didn't take the short way down?" Nick glanced back at the mountain, wincing and wobbling a bit, as the motion redirected the wind current and nearly knocked him off course.
"Yeah, they're aware," I said dryly.
"Then we go low." He swooped down, dropping altitude until we were unnervingly close to the ground, weaving through the waist-high grass and drawing his sword, holding the hilt with both hands, sweeping side to side at seemingly random intervals, like he was searching for something.
In seconds, he found it. One of the hobgoblin rogues skulking through the grass, clad in leathers, staring at the oncoming hurricane, frozen.
The collision was a horrifying squelch and resulting squeal as Nick's sword speared all the way through his shoulder, cross-guard acting like a fish-hook as the hobgoblin was dragged, kicking and screaming, the back of his legs plowing through the soil.
"Got you a present," Nick said, shifting the sword slightly so the monster was closer to me.
The hobgoblin's beady black eyes hopped from me to Nick, and back again, panicked.
"I don't want it."
"Just fuck with him, I'll evade for a bit."
I bit back a sharp retort, catching his meaning. He knew the Ordinator abilities required a lot of set-up, and was trying to give me a window to use them. Granted, it was a depressingly small window, and only a single goblin out of a camp of five hundred. But it was better than nothing.
I reeled, nearly hitting the ground as psychic feedback snapped back on me, the inhuman squeal breaking my concentration.
"What the hell?"
Int/Agi Hybrid.
"Uh, Matt, I don't mean to rush—"
"Then don't pick up the world's smartest hobgoblin and expect me to work quickly." I snarled, grabbing the goblin's head and twisting his neck to the side, giving me a better angle. Drawing a knife, I carved his ear off, ignoring both Nick's horrified look and the Goblin's crescendoing howl.
"Can you go five minutes without committing a war crime?!" Nick shouted.
I ignored him, opening a connection through and forcing my way through, feeling for weaknesses and fears. The hobgoblin, whose name was some guttural multi-apostrophized grunt I couldn't pronounce, was a hedonist first.
And hedonists were easy.
PROTECT YOUR CHAIN OF COMMAND. ESPECIALLY THE ONES THESE INTERLOPERS GET CLOSE TO. IF YOU FAIL YOU'LL NEVER SEE THE INSIDE OF A BROTHEL AGAIN.
His arm was in bad shape. His mind was chaos. If it worked, he'd run himself ragged, haplessly pointing out every goblin that outranked him while doing very little to actually protect them.
Again, the goblin screeched in fear. Nick carried him in a slow circle, squinting at the camp. It was difficult to see anything with blades of grass hitting me in the face every five seconds, but I could hear the footfalls of armored troops converging towards us, and unless I'd completely lost my sense of direction I was pretty sure we were on the opposite side of the camp from the catapults.
"It's working," Nick smiled, wind whipping through his hair. "We're pulling them away from the artillery." He glanced at me, wincing a little as he said it. "Any... chance you can turn him up a little?"
I considered the Hobgoblin's remaining ear, then quickly disregarded it. The monster was in a lot of pain already. More and he was at risk of falling unconscious.
Instead, I hammered his mind.
THERE WILL BE NO WOMEN. ONLY MEN.
Somehow, the hobgoblin's screams rose another octave. Nick corkscrewed, holding the creature straight up, carrying him upright above the grass as he flew blindly on his back, zig-zagging through the grass on a random path. I tried to imagine how it looked from the fort. A single hobgoblin, carried at break-neck speed on an unseen mount, screeching bloody murder.
It was one hell of a distraction.
"Ready?" Nick said.
"Almost."
WARN THEM. SCREAM UNTIL YOU CAN'T SCREAM ANYMORE.
In a manner that was almost compliant, the hobgoblin sucked in a deep breath. Nick spun, letting gravity do most of the work as the goblin slid off his sword, tumbling across the ground. It spit out a mouthful of dirt, and immediately started raising a racket again.
"Guard towers first?" I asked, fighting a growing thrill.
"Just like the Wildlands days." Nick winked. We split to the left and right, swooping through the low grass, as our abandoned abductee continued to provide cover.
I flew low enough that the toes of my boots threatened to catch the ground. That was the point. If we were too obvious, it would undo the entire gambit for reorganization. The hobgoblins in the towers weren't heavily armored, but that mattered less than it usually would. That was the downside of using the flight charm in combat. It was all about momentum. If you were floating and struck a static object, it'd do almost nothing to the object and end up pushing you back.
Even if you were flying directly at them, it was hard to get a knife to stick.
With that in mind, I drew spinning once from the ring to dial in the heft, and spotting the rickety construction of a tower above me through the grass, I shot straight up, evening out in a tight curve, hoping the momentum was enough.
The tower hobgoblin's mouth dropped open in surprise as the horizontal slash parted his throat, a curtain of black descending from the wound. There were two more, equally surprised, but much quicker to react than their companion had been. Still floating a little off the ground, I slammed the karambit back into my inventory, and quickdrew two of the new crossbows, firing them both, feeling a mix of satisfaction and panic as bolts struck home, dropping the monsters. But the combined force of the shot sent me flying back towards the wall.
I flailed, dropping one of the spent bows and inventorying the other as my hand caught purchase on one of the spikes of the log wall, waiting for the world to stop spinning, unsure how much attention I'd drawn, if any.
The next guard tower over, a pale, terrified looking hobgoblin openly gawked, shakily raising a giant sheephorn to his lips and inhaling.
HOLD YOUR BREATH. I
It froze, wide-eyed, cheeks inflated, lips still planted firmly on the horn. Unlike the previous sentry, this one had taken the dress code more seriously, an amalgam of iron and leather armor that covered both neck and head, limiting my options. Taking an extra setting to line up the jump, I cast on my legs and launched towards the tower, accelerating, then rotating in midair so my feet were in front of me. My boots landed square on the horn's rim.
I grabbed the overhang for leverage and kicked with both feet, breaking teeth and sending the horn down the goblin's throat. He fell with an echoing gurgle to the ground.
This pace was too breakneck. I needed to take stock, get an idea of how Nick was doing—
CRACK
Across the camp, there was a thundering splinter of wood and shrieking voices as a guard tower on Nick's side splintered, armored monsters scattering beneath as it plummeted to the ground, partially collapsing on another fallen tower I hadn't even heard go down. A glowing gold blur shot out from beneath the wreckage, zipping above a small squadron of archers coherent enough to aim before they fired.
Okay. So much for drawing their attention away from the center.
activated, and every arrow went wide, missing Nick by a wide enough margin that he may have not even noticed they fired. He—probably realizing his tower solution had been too bombastic—made the best of the situation, deviating from the original catapult destination and flying along the elevated catwalks, holding his arm out, grabbing, yanking, and clotheslining goblins off their elevated positions.
Not something I could do half as effectively with my current strength, but there was another option. I took flight, dodging an onslaught of arrows from below, sticking to the shadows beneath the catwalks, planting more than half of my incendiary charges on the thick support beams that supported the catwalks.
Below, the one-eared goblin from before was planted in front of a larger variant, a cruel looking brute with a large mace, never taking his eyes off me, holding a shield with both hands.
Thanks pal.
The brute was in the midst of shouting directions in harsh guttural commands, recognition lighting in his battle-hardened face. "They're targeting our defenses! Regrou—"
I dipped low, and bypassing one-ear entirely, quick-drew a crossbow and shot the commander in the face. He toppled as I moved on, building momentum back up after nearly diverting into a wall of waiting swords and shields. The incendiary charges went off, one after another, lighting a fire I coaxed to burn brightly, until segments were falling away. Through one of the newly opened holes, I saw Charlotte alone in the distant field, holding her staff skyward.
A shower of sparks spanning the central camp drifted downward like snowflakes, I steered clear, Nick following my lead. Below, in the midst of the churning chaos, I saw a single goblin reach up, catching a spark on the back of his finger. He recoiled as it flared, leaving a purple afterimage in my vision, grabbing at his face, mouth twisted in a rictus of pain.
Naturally, I looked away as soon as the sparks went off, grabbing at Nick's arm as we met above the catapults. "Flight is getting dodgy. They're shooting skeet and I can't stop every arrow. We need to play it tighter."
"Yep." Nick mused, seeming to weigh a few options before deciding on one that involved dropping straight down, towards a mass of hobgoblins spread out amongst the catapults. He kicked a spear aside and landed on top of the spearman full force, the spearman's skull cracking beneath his boot.
I was about to assign that particularly impossible feat to patron bullshit, until I saw him drop the remnants of his torn up flight charm on the ground.
I'd wondered how he was going to deal with the weightlessness problem. Seeing it now, though, was sobering. The flight charms were an invaluable form of retreat. We could get more through the AG connection, assuming Tyler didn't send us both packing after this, but that didn't help us now.
And once the charms were gone, there was no backing out. No tactical retreat.
We were committed.
I tore mine and landed, ducking beneath a sword, grabbing the attacker by the neck and him.
These two are a distraction. There's a larger force that way, hidden in the grass. Gather up as many as you can and GO! I sent him a mental picture of figures hidden in the sprawling field on the other side of catapults, in the opposite direction of the mountain lift.
He nodded briefly before taking off, barely dodging beneath Nick's wide savage swings and high-stepping over the snapping jaws of a canine. Talia watched him go, cocking her head before she turned back. "Help is on the way."
"How much?" I shouted, catching Nick under his arms as he stumbled back, fresh dent in his armor.
Talia waded in with a snarl, locking her jaws around the club-wielder's throat and tackling him down, tearing at his throat, releasing once the struggling stopped, dark blood dripping from her fangs. "More—" Her eyes widened. "Look out!"
Amidst a new storm of sparks, a massive projectile plunged towards us, argent blue corona shimmering with sheer destructive power, and for a moment, my crazed mind thought it was another comet. I dove to the side, taking Nick down with me as Astria's projectile impacted a dividing wall and exploded with an ear-shattering BOOM, a radius of flaming shrapnel peppering the dirt and catapults around us.
"I said vertical and off-target, god dammit!" I shouted, my own voice barely perceptible over the ringing in my ears. The explosion left a wake of goblin bodies both in front of and behind the retaining wall. Heated as I was, I knew Astria was deadly accurate. If I had to guess, the hostage in peril had been towards the center of the camp. She'd limited the range of damage by targeting the top of the wall. The hostages on the other side seemed terrified but unharmed, and by some miracle neither of us had been hit.
"Matthias," Talia said, approaching us cautiously.
"Think... I may have fucked up," Nick said, his voice pained and ethereal.
No.
A twisted, blackened chunk of metal jutted from Nick's abdomen. He touched it, grimaced, then gripped it tightly. Automatically, I knocked his hand away and upended a health potion into his mouth. "Leave it until the potion kicks in."
"Look at them all," Nick murmured. Beyond us, through both the original entrance to the artillery section and the retaining wall, the hobgoblins had mostly recovered. They were climbing over the remnants, more approaching from the side. Compared to before, they were moving slowly, cautious. But the caution wouldn't last for long.
He was in shock. The wound wasn't fatal, but I'd wager it hurt like hell. I withdrew a sack of incendiary charges. "Come on, buddy. Need you to set these while Talia and I hold them off."
Nick shook his head, trying to shake it off and failing. "Bad idea. Remember the fireworks?"
I snorted. The first and only time we'd celebrated the Fourth of July—his idea—and Nick had almost blown himself up with M-80s. Twice. "Well, somebody's gotta do it."
"You go, I'll..." Nick tried to push himself up and fell back, harried and disoriented. "Shit."
It was the shock. He wasn't dying, I'd checked his vitals with And we couldn't just retreat here, without taking the catapults out of play. I needed to snap him out of it, somehow. And without using my powers, in my panicked state, there was really only one thing I could think of.
Talia barked at the encroaching goblins, alternating between the advancing groups, as I whispered-yelled in Nick's ear. "'You, me, nobody's gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. So get. Up. Motherfucker.'"
Nick laughed, cutting off abruptly from the pain. When he recovered, his eyes were more focused now, and the franticness behind them seemed to fade. "Think you... ad-libbed at the end there, coach."
This time, when I tried to pull him up, he worked with me, boots catching purchase against the ground. Nick straightened, downing another potion before he gripped the shrapnel in his abdomen and pulled, grimacing as it came free, leaving a spatter of red across the soil below.
"Decision time. Charges or pointy-eared bastards." I prompted.
"Well I can't chicken out after all that." Nick grinned, drawing his sword shakily and banging it against his shield. "Talia! To me!"
Talia skipped away from the encroaching goblins, taking her place at Nick's side, glancing at him with concern. I saw it too. It was a brave face. Nick was amping himself up and trying to set me at ease. But the wound had been serious, and health potions weren't a cure-all. Whatever time we had left, the accidental friendly fire had probably cut it in half.
I sprinted away as Nick drew first blood, drawing charges from the bag and placing them on the catapults, only catching glimpses, worry growing by the minute. Because Nick wasn't glowing anymore. His patron's favor was apparently fleeting.
That didn't matter. Because he had mine.
His sword found throats, gaps, openings. Every impact his shield took resonated, jarring the attacker to their bones. The goblins crowded in, blood lust stoked, pushing and shoving to get to Nick when they'd been cautious and orderly just moments before. The fallen clung to those still standing, begging for help or trying to right themselves, only to be stumbled or tripped over.
A spearman that through the gaps in-between the critical moments I spent between focusing on Nick and working on the charges jammed his weapon into Nick's back, eliciting a roar of rage as Nick pivoted and rang the hobgoblin's head with his shield like a gong.
"Matthias!" Talia roared into my mind.
"I see it."
My vision began to gray, signaling my mana was running low. I placed the final charge, retreated, and blew it, covering my ear and the back of my head with an arm. The already sweltering temperature skyrocketed, searing my back as I drew my saber and began to fight, swinging the saber defensively so Nick could afford to retreat. But more goblins were pouring into the square by the second.
Retreat where?
Searching, desperate for anything that resembled a choke-point. But beyond the burning catapults, the artillery square consisted of nothing but a shack in the corner. It was either that or running out into the open and hoping the AG had made up enough distance to assist.
Another round of Charlotte's sparks bought us a moment of breathing room. If we were going to move, we needed to do it now.
"Talia—"
"I'll hold them for as long as I can. Go!" Talia urged.
I supported Nick, back straining as I steered us towards the shack, firing my last two loaded crossbows behind us, killing the frontrunners. As we half-limped, half-ran, I lowered my head in supplication, never taking my eyes off the destination.
Nychta, grant me strength.
The low, menacing pitch of a woman's chuckle echoed in my ear, confirming what I already suspected. I hadn't pinned down all the details, but I knew she was drawn to battle and carnage. She'd be watching.
"And here I wondered if you forgot about me, little Ordinator," Nychta whispered.
I didn't.
"Perhaps. What will you offer for this request?"
"A sacrament."
"Harvested with the blades you hold so dearly?"
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"If that will suffice."
"Dance beautifully to the drums, my sweet. Your wish is granted."
A surge of acid roiled in my gut. My fingers twitched, every part of me straining to turn around and face my attackers, to demonstrate every facet of the foolishness of their pursuit. I kept moving, somehow retaining enough of myself to help Nick into an overturned crate in the back.
Nick stared at me, panicked. "We're trapped."
I shook my head. "We are the trap. Tell the camera to stay away, cover the rest of the camp or something." The running footfalls grew closer. They'd be going from bright mid-day to pitch black. Goblins and goblinoids had better night vision than humans, but the difference was stark enough that it would still have an impact. activated, threads expanded from my vision, the aggressive, percussive beat of thrumming alongside it. "Nick," I said, teeth gritted as some outside force tugged at the back of my skull, forcing my face into a smile.
"Yeah?" Nick asked, chugging more potions.
"Don't watch, okay?"
If he responded, I didn't hear it. I was completely focused on the plan. It wasn't the worst plan ever, but it was close. wasn't cheap. My already depleted mana was lower than it had been.
To make matters worse, the supply shack was the definition of any port in a storm. It wasn't at all secure. The walls looked thin. If the catwalks and catapults were any indication, a single torch in the right place would set the entire thing ablaze.
With the sudden light level change, it'd be easy to kill the first few hobgoblins through the door.
But if I did that, they'd get smart. Smoke us out or start shooting.
So the answer was simple.
Take advantage of the initial blood lust and kill them slowly. Keep the bodies that did fall away from the door, and let the goblins that persisted raise enough din and ruckus that the battle appeared to be ongoing.
It wasn't perfect. But it was all I had.
The first group pushed through the door in an angry cluster, not even bothering to slow down.
My turn.
I slashed from shoulder, to sternum, to shoulder again and threw him aside, moving smoothly now, aches and pains from the previous encounter all but forgotten. carved through armor straps and tendons alike, every strike accelerating, the small resistance I did feel paltry, almost nothing.
The artifact was unlike any blade I'd ever used, and at that moment, I cherished it. In the low light, many of the attackers didn't seem to notice the extent of their injuries. They tried to keep fighting, as their legs buckled on severed achilles, and their guts spilled out, and nicked arteries pumped black life's blood onto the ground.
Myrddin didn't fight like this. Myrddin was about efficiency. He killed, but he killed humanely.
This was something else.
But the drums beat, each strike a swell, drowning out all rational thought as the gods themselves bore witness, and I was undone.
The first clever goblin tried to run. Would have made it, but he lost footing on the viscera-covered floor. I fish-hooked him with the karambit, flesh and bone of his upper-palate providing enough resistance to yank him back before it parted and gave way.
The second clever goblin stuck his head in, wide-eyed, and turned to shout a warning.
I risked a because it didn't matter.
If I died, I died.
"Long pig's back on the menu, boys. They're on their last legs. Get 'em!" The converted hobgoblin charged in, blade lowered, directly into another goblin crawling towards the door, who howled and fell still.
More followed, trickle renewed to stream, and I met them. began to wail, glowing dull red in the low light, her voice merging with the beating of the drums, two songs becoming one.
This was who I was. Who I always had been. A blade in the dark, waiting to be drawn.
Nothing else mattered.
The subjugated goblin fell, ganged up on by its enraged fellows before I capitalized on the distraction and put them down.
It didn't matter.
No one mattered.
Something... was wrong with that. It bothered me. Dissonance in the song. I tried to kill it and found that while it wasn't as loud as before, the atonality was impossible to snuff. It remained, buzzing in my ear, marring the melody, even as the bodies of maimed hobgoblins collapsed from their injuries, one after another.
Why aren't there more coming? Surely, there's more.
"From the sound of it, the cavalry's here. Take a breath." Someone—no... I knew them.
Nick snapped his fingers in front of my face, smiling sympathetically. The words registered late, din of battle becoming audible over the roaring of blood in my ears.
The ground shifted beneath me, and I realized we were standing on bodies, simply because there was nowhere else to stand. They littered the floor, stacked two high in some places. Black blood and other viscera dripped from the ceiling, coated the walls.
"It—" I started.
"You don't have to explain. My dumbass fell short, again. All you did was pick up the slack. It'd be kind of messed up if I climbed up on a high horse and complained about how you did it."
"Come on." I wanted to believe him. But everyone had a limit.
His smile slipped a little, and he seemed to be intentionally avoiding taking in more of our surroundings than he had to. "It's another bullet-point in the let's-never-go-at-each-other-for-real column, if I'm honest. But we're alive. And once we see this through? You can hang the dark shit up for good." He reached for the tent flap, ready to leave.
I blurted something out. Something that'd been gnawing at me from the beginning. "And if I can't?"
Nick paused, turning back to look at me as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "Then I'll do the same thing you did for me. Drag you kicking and screaming back into the light."
/////
Between the joint efforts of Charlotte, Julien, Sae, and Miles, the goblins were reeling. I'd initially asked for their help because they were all, to some extent, people I trusted. The fact that the six of us worked so well together ended up being a happy accident. Despite varying ages, backgrounds, and philosophies, we all brought something unique to the table that somehow added up to a greater whole.
Sae and Nick alone were a complementing martial powerhouse. Nick of the hit-me-and-see-what-happens variety, Sae of the good-luck-hitting-me-at-all. They'd found their tempo first, likely because after her alteration, recovery, and the strike-team work, Sae was most similar to me. The difference was, where I excelled in hammering down single targets, Sae had more sustain and endurance. And unlike me, she was a lot more comfortable digging her heels in on the frontlines.
The two fell into a comfortable rhythm almost immediately. Sae shredding through monsters at close range, baiting and taunting them into Nick, who absorbed the reprisal and returned it exponentially, heaping affirmation and praise onto Sae all the while.
Granted they kept high-fiving in the middle of combat, more than once with a number of sharp objects barreling their direction, but that was more Nick's fault than Sae's.
Together, they drew a lot of aggression. More than double what they would have individually.
Which was good, because without the redirected attention, there would have been an abundance of repeatedly blinded, infested, or disease-stricken monsters that, if not otherwise occupied, would be highly motivated to look for the User pointing a wand or staff their way.
The sheer value of Charlotte's utility was insane. Coupled with the sheer nastiness of some of the more visceral hexes, and a detached, almost scientific commitment to experimenting and finding the most debilitating combinations of effects, and she was terrifying. Some of her magic—the mass blind spell, for one—was telegraphed. Others, like the painful looking boils and a sudden area of effect pressure shift that ruptured the eardrums of anything with the misfortune of standing in it, were either imperceptible or almost impossible to trace.
Not to say some of the more afflicted and understandably pissed off hobgoblins didn't try.
Which was where Julien came in.
I liked Julien, as a person. He was friendly, agreeable, less impulsive than Nick and just as quick to listen and contribute to discussions without dominating them.
After what I saw on the last floor, however, Julien was the only person I'd half-expected to stay on the mountain. He had some sort of hangup with violence, even when it was clearly justified. Either due to class, personal beliefs, or both. Frankly, if he was going to repeat his previous behavior incessantly, insisting on dragging every monster we encountered capable of speech into drawn-out negotiations, I would have preferred he stayed there.
Where Julien actually landed was somewhere in-between. He engaged almost purely defensively, fully committed to safeguarding Charlotte, aiming to disarm and dissuade.
His mercy had limits. Which, in my eyes, changed things a great deal. If one of the aforementioned repeatedly blinded, ear-drum ruptured, disease-stricken hobgoblins mistook mercy for stupidity, Julien put them down. The prince was willing to take a hell of a beating for whatever ideals or rules he followed, but he wasn't callous enough to expect others to do the same.
I could respect that, even if I didn't fully understand it.
Before the dome it might have annoyed me, in the context of an online RPG or tabletop game. Having one person fully committed to safeguarding another felt like a waste in the context of gamified bullshit like damage per second or encounter scaling. But I'd seen the way system monsters and other Users aggressively targeted magic types. I'd been on both sides of it. It was the natural course of action, given the low defenses and sheer power they wielded.
So if Julien wanted to stick to Charlotte's ass, I was all for it. Hell, I'd bring the glue gun.
It freed me and Miles up to do what we did best.
Interestingly enough, Miles' rules of engagement varied compared to what I'd seen in the real world. With people, he played around religiously, exercising caution and a slower pace. With monsters, the easiest way to locate Miles was to look for the place where Hobgoblins were dying in a rhythm, one after another, searching for an unseen assailant before an arrow found their hearts, throats, or foreheads.
I mainly stuck to my crossbows, staying near the members of the group furthest from Miles. In part, it was tactical, ensuring one of us could rotate to help at any given time.
The other part was nerves. Miles didn't seem as thrilled or engaged with the team as the rest of us were. Unless I was reading it completely wrong he was overtly pissed off. It could have been the fact that no one warned him beforehand, but I doubted it. I'd made the decision to cut loose in the tower. Leverage every resource I had, every ability, every summon. What we were doing was too important. If we failed, I didn't want to look back and regret that decision. I tried to be smart about it. Having Myrddin lend his summons to Miles, letting everyone think Talia was Nick's spirit guardian. Deploying Ordinator abilities in a more subtle manner.
Disguised and obfuscated as they were, my cards were on the table.
And if anyone was going to connect the dots, it was Miles.
There was no real friction. He was polite to everyone, responding to callouts and proactively rotating for assists. But I didn't miss the way his eyes followed me, sliding away whenever I looked in his direction.
By the time the combined force of both guilds arrived, the goblins had been halved. It wasn't all us. Several Adventurer's Guild mages had followed Nick's lead, popping their flight charms and peppering monsters from the air. Queen Mari had, apparently, done exactly what I thought Nick was about to do. Ran down the mountain, across the field, and into the fort, leaving a trail of bashed in skulls behind her.
Within minutes of the reinforcements arriving, it was over, the elevator's appearance in the center and a system announcement indicating that the hidden criteria was met, and the floor had been cleared.
Everyone from the impromptu group stuck together, some mix between camaraderie and the awkwardness of knowing that we'd broken ranks, and an administrative thrashing was inevitable. Sae had Nick in a headlock for some comment he made, while me, Julien and Charlotte watched from the cheap seats.
Tyler's imposing figure—head and shoulders over most of the Users overrunning the camp—made his way towards us. Almost every few steps he would pause, draw his sword, and deliver a killing stroke to a hobgoblin still suffering on the ground.
"Okay, am I wrong, or is that... a really intimidating way to approach a group of people?" Nick asked, looking a little pale.
"Probably just nervous because you thumbed your nose at him less than two hours ago," I told him.
"No, it's uh... kind of intimidating. He's not even my guild leader and I'm all kinds of intimidated." Charlotte laughed nervously. Horror overtook her expression as she turned to Julien, who was leaning against the same railing she was perched on. "Oh. God. Do you think Aaron's pissed?"
"It's Aaron." Julien shrugged, wincing as Tyler killed another hobgoblin in the distance. "Not even god knows if Aaron is pissed."
I tapped behind my ear. "Neck gets all bulgy. Pretty much his only tell."
Both Julien and Charlotte turned to look at me sharply.
"You knew each other before?" Julien asked.
"Yep." And that was as much as I was willing to say. "But from what I was hearing earlier, he wanted this anyway. You guys are in the clear."
"Lucky fuckin' you." Sae watched Tyler's approach, growing glummer by the second. "I was chatting up one of their recruiters. Planning to join them before this. Fat chance of that now."
"Eh." Miles said. "Depends on how he interprets it. If he sees it as an act of rebellion, you're screwed. But Tyler's a reasonable guy. If he sees this as a tryout, you might even get to skip the assessments. Either way, you're not gonna get torn up like these two." He chucked a thumb at me and Nick.
"Not trying to narc, but you were the first one down here with us," Nick said, frowning. "And I'm not even a member of the Adventurer's Guild."
"No, but you're an accessory to Matt, so you're liable to take some blowback."
"Hey."
"As for me, I'm a fed," Miles shrugged. "Punishment isn't really a thing for us. If the fuck-up isn't up to Waco levels we usually just get promoted in a backhanded way."
"Asshole." Nick snorted.
"Fascist." Julien added.
"Uhuh." Miles agreed. "Y'all want some popcorn?" He pulled an already popped bag from his inventory, grabbed a handful, and passed it back, just as Tyler arrived. "How's it hanging, chief?"
"Shut up," Tyler growled.
"Okay."
The guild leader gave us all a hard look, before his gaze came to rest on someone in particular. "Sae, right?"
Caught completely off-guard with a mouthful of popcorn, Sae hopped off the fence and straightened. "Yes sir."
"You're in." Tyler flicked something on his UI, and moments later, a very stunned Sae did the same. "Let me be clear. The adventurer's guild does not endorse the sort of maverick, backbiting chicanery that went down today. If I get wind of any issues along those lines you'll be out just as easily. But I understand you had no previous affiliation and relationship with the people who so foolishly put themselves in danger. With that in mind, the loyalty and skill you demonstrated today is commendable."
"No maverick chicanery." Sae nodded. "Got it."
"Or backbiting." Nick added, unable to suppress the snicker.
"And you." Tyler closed distance, his forehead inches from Nick's. "You're not a member of my Guild. I cannot discipline or admonish you for your behavior. I certainly cannot tell you you're an irresponsible, self-centered little shit who put the lives of at least twenty people—arguably more—in mortal danger for the sake of his own vanity."
Nick winced. "If you could, I'd tell you I'm very sorry."
Tyler bristled, mistaking Nick's sidelong apology for lip, and looked ready to pile more on.
Beside me, Miles raised his hand like a grade school student with a question.
"Yes?" Tyler asked, his tone dangerous.
"It got chaotic for a while. Just been wondering, how many hostages did we lose, chief?"
"None," Tyler admitted, almost begrudgingly.
"Glad to hear it."
Tyler sighed and moved on, pausing in front of me. Unlike the way he was with Nick, he seemed more frustrated than angry. "I'm not even sure where to start. In recent days you've been the most vocal about devoting resources to the tower, so my first inclination is to pin all the blame on you and nail you to the goddamn wall. Especially knowing how persuasive you can be. But you're not a god, capable of enthralling the masses to your whims—"
Coughs echoed as Nick choked on a piece of popcorn.
"—and in the end, every person here who broke the chain of command made their own decision. Looking at that objectively, I've failed as a leader, to correctly gauge and assess the needs and desires of my own. Your selfless actions in the last transposition go a long way, and your status as both a region leader and a high-placing member of the merchant's guild makes you borderline invaluable. Beyond that, we have history. However" His tone changed, and he loomed over me. "If you think those connections are enough to stop me from throwing your scrawny ass to the curb if necessary, you've got another thing coming. Got it?"
Reasonable. Fair. Tyler always had been, to the best of his ability.
"Understood," I said.
"Good."
Almost casually, Tyler reached over and slapped the bag of popcorn out of Miles' hands.
"That was pre-system popcorn," Miles said calmly, staring down at the bag.
"You think you're cute?" Tyler asked, restrained calm masking fury. "All the glad-handing and congeniality to my face while you stir shit up behind my back?"
"I'm at least a little cute. Ex-wife one and three thought so. Two women who hate each other but agree on something can't be wrong."
"Uh-huh. All of a sudden you're in my business, dry-fucking my ass, because someone mentioned a necromancer and now you need somewhere to put the hard-on."
Miles pushed off the fence, getting far inside Tyler's personal space. "Now that you mention it, it is getting a little stiff downstairs. Stiffer now, because I don't think I mentioned that particular detail to anyone."
One of the girls made a gagging noise. Probably Sae.
"You're not the only one with sources," Tyler rolled his eyes. "Every time I leave the real world some fresh hell gets thrown in my face."
"Downside of being a visible leader."
"We've decided to run advance teams before committing so many people. It's just too much power off the board at any given time. Coordinate with Sara, she wants you to spearhead this, given that you're so motivated to find this fucker. I can't do it without leaving us open to opportunists, and I don't want my people going up against a necromancer without—"
"Every fed available, once we know where he is. Yeah. Got it." Miles nodded, blowing air out. "So, an advance team, acting in a scouting or clearing capacity. We call in reinforcements as we need them once we've established threat. Can I have my pick of your and Aaron's people, or is this a just yours situation?"
"It was his idea, so I'd say he's on board. It'll spare us both a lot of grief. Though I was told to tell you that members of the court may opt out if they wish."
Miles shifted his head back and forth. "I'm thinking... ten people, so we have enough for a solid rotation?"
"Fine by me." Tyler turned and walked away.
"There a time limit?" Miles asked.
"You have them for a week."
With a sigh, Miles bent down, picked up his involuntary litter and shoved it in his pocket. "Not a lot of time. We worked pretty well together. You guys down to be team 1?"
Nick and I immediately agreed, Julien and Charlotte following suit shortly after.
"If Aaron really gave the green light it beats being rarified around Order HQ all day," Julien smiled. "Plus, it's for a good cause." Charlotte nodded agreement.
Sae wrinkled her nose. "Only if you promise to never talk about your dick again."
"Reasonable and wise." Miles shot a finger gun at her. "Done."
He clapped his hands, signaling dismissal. "Everyone go home, pack your shit. Keep some inventory space clear, but as a rule, take more than you need. Only gonna come down for air if we have to. Think of it like a camping trip. Run out of food and we will resort to kobold sashimi before we take the time to stop by Little Debbie's eBay extravaganza, so bear that in mind. Gonna do the same, scrounge up team 2, and we'll all meet in the lobby at 0800 tomorrow."
Nick left first, pausing when I didn't follow him. "I'll catch up."
"Aight. Thanks again, for everything today." Nick shifted, taking in the whole group, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I was completely cooked if you guys didn't follow me down."
"Had to. We built a dog tree together." Julien waved back at me. "See you tomorrow."
"Yessir."
Would I see him tomorrow? Any of them?
It was hard to say.
"Think I'm hungrier than before I ate the popcorn," Sae complained.
"Same," Charlotte said, skipping over to walk next to her. "We're not expected back for a while. You guys wanna grab something to eat on the way home?"
"As long as it's not kobold," Nick walked backward. "I'm thinkin'... barbecue? Burgers?"
Their voices faded as they grew more distant, figures merging with the din of Users picking at the charred camp, conversation melding into the noise as though it was never truly there at all.
We watched them go for longer than we needed to. A cool breeze rolled in, sending a sway through the golden grass. Above, the twin suns drifted towards the horizon, light dimming as the long shadows of the surrounding trees crawled across the field.
"Am I... that... obvious?" Miles asked. The usual charm in his voice was gone, wrinkles around his forehead and mouth more pronounced, like he'd aged years in minutes.
I shook my head. "Just got the sense you had something to say."
"Come on, let's not do this here."
We trekked away from the camp, perpendicular to the mountain, away from the setting suns. The copse of trees—likely impassable, if this followed a typical dungeon format—were decked with round, light green leaves that didn't look entirely real. Once the camp was a distant anthill of activity, Miles slipped his pack off his shoulders, placing it at his feet and unzipping it. He grunted as he hefted a sleepy looking Audrey out, patting her gently on the back of the head. "Good morning sweetheart."
"Meat," Audrey said, pouting.
"I've been told you have a big appetite." He pointed to the copse, some thirty yards away. "Spotted some birds in those trees, earlier. Feel like going hunting?"
Judging from the way she snapped to attention, mobility vines propelling her across the field at breakneck speed, Audrey did in fact feel like going hunting.
Miles looked down at his shadow. "Azure, you feel like watching over her?"
"I could." Azure solidified into his goblinoid form, looking between us. "Everything alright here?"
"Yeah." Miles put his hands on his hips and stretched. "Yeah. No big deal. Just gonna have a chat."
"You can go."
Azure nodded to Miles, eyes flicking back to me.
"Call for help if you need it."
Then Miles raised his arm. A falcon landed on it, puffing out its fluffy white chest and cawing into Miles' face. He grimaced, and reached back into a pouch on his belt, pulling out a strand of stringy meat and handing it to the bird.
He'd been wearing the same pouch the day I met him. During the transposition.
My mouth went dry.
"Only this one's my summon. The other two are loaners. Greedy little thing. Helpful, but greedy. Tends to get himself into trouble if I let him roam too long. Eyes far bigger than his stomach." Miles stroked the falcon under its chin. "Isn't that right."
It squawked, offended, then took off.
I said nothing.
"They're rare, from what I understand. Summons I mean. Not many people have them, so it's not common knowledge how they work." Miles watched the falcon fly away. "God knows I'm no falconer. Reason I can just let 'em go like that is because summons have a maximum range. He can only get so far from me before he has to come back. It makes the realm situation a little inconvenient. If he's flying around and I enter a dungeon—or any realm of flauros, really—poof, he's gone. And I have to tap into my mana pool and summon him again."
I closed my eyes. Opened them again. When I did, Miles was staring right at me, like he was looking at someone he'd never seen before.
"How do the loaners work, then. If they're not yours?" I asked, monotone.
"I've been wondering the same thing. A new friend lent them to me, with basic instructions for their care and well-being. Like I was dog-sitting." He chuckled. "Audrey kinda fits that bill. She's really very sweet. Bristles when anyone walks by the door, talks about as much as a Husky does. Totally unlike the flowerfangs in the dungeons."
"And the other one?"
"Not very dog-like. Very, very, person-like. Acts more like a teenager than a monster. Cryptic. Vague. Doesn't seem to like me much."
"Maybe he'll warm up to you."
"Probably not." Miles rolled his eyes. "I'm terrible with teenagers. And if he finds out I used an analysis ability to piece together what he was hiding behind those question marks, well, might as well cue up "Truth Hurts." Donezo. There's nothing teenagers hate more than nosy caretakers."
"He was hiding what he was? The monster type?"
"Uh-huh. So around five this morning, I had two burning questions I really wanted to get answers to before I came down here and put my life on the line." Miles held out fingers, enumerating. "'What the hell is an abrogated lithid?' And 'Are there multiple types of summons that can persist across realms?' So I started making phone calls, pissing off pretty much everyone in my contact list."
As soon Miles said the word lithid, I drew and held it casually behind my back.
"Find anything?"
"Oh yeah. More than I wanted to, if I'm honest. At its core, a lithid is a parasite. Feeds off suffering. Friend of mine, former cop at the DPD who hopped careers to the twenty-four hour shift at the psych ward really didn't enjoy her time with one. Said it read her thoughts, twisted her fears into nightmarish realities. Tortured her. The only reason she's alive at all, is because she was with someone who ran slower. The two guys and the bear in the woods joke."
"Jesus." Again, my delivery was b-tier.
Fucking get to it, Miles
"The effects lasted a long time. Certain... compulsions... extended far beyond that initial experience. Hence, psych-ward. Freaked me out a little." He gave me a thin smile. "We're both cerebral guys, you get it. Anything that fucks with our heads is a no-go. Guessing that's why you're straight edge."
His hand dangled, shifting ever so slightly, revealing the slightest glint of a blade behind his thigh.
"Kinda ballsy," I observed, "Knowing that and bringing it with you anyway."
"Well, I'm more insulated than the average User. Took additional precautions too. Thought my new friend might be trying to get the one-over on me, trojan horsing his way into this mess of neurons." He tapped his head and looked away. "But didn't notice any attempted intrusions. And they really helped out today. The summons. So now I have no idea what to think."
"Could have been a genuine gesture of good will," I tried.
"A gesture of good will? Yes. Genuine?" He shook his head. "Not so sure. Because I talked to a lot of people. Got in contact with or directed to nine Users with the ability to summon. And it's interesting, because, apparently, they do vary. Range, difficulty, power, how verbal and cooperative the summons are. There's a ton of discrepancies. But every one of them, from the first to last, were consistent on one point, and one point only. 'Summons don't persist across realms.' Which is why I had to take the risk, with the lithid. See what happened. Because if the summons disappeared on the elevator, well, whatever, it was bullshit. And bullshitters are a dime a dozen. But if they didn't disappear... it meant my new friend was blowing a different type of smoke. From very close by."
It was circumstantial. And there were holes. Sample size of the summoners, potential interference from the lithid, the hundreds of other people who crowded onto the same massive elevator. The fact that he’d come after me over this before and failed. It wouldn't hold up in a court of law.
But there was no court of law.
There was nothing but me, and him, and the knives at our sides.
"It's getting late. Why don't you say whatever you've been circling, Miles?"
"Fair enough." Miles' forced smile faded beneath his tired eyes. "Are you the Ordinator?"
"I am."