I threw a cloak over my head and followed Pyrrah outside the tent. The camp was in complete darkness. Guards were stationed near the main square, outside the chieftains’ tents, and around the camp. Most of the night watchmen were posted on the wall, in case of a night raid. We slipped unnoticed through the Teal Moon camp.
Orcs couldn’t see in darkness, and they didn't have System detection skills. I couldn’t confidently say the same about the Greyfangs. So far, I’d seen them using offensive spells, so it was only logical that they had access to support spells.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I asked.
“I’ve been doing this all week long, just stay close to me,” she replied.
Pyrrah guided me to the aqueduct. We climbed using a service ladder—foot-sized notches in a pillar—and headed toward the citadel. I glanced at Umolo. Unlike Farcrest, the orc settlement was neat and organized. Orc tents extended in all directions, and I could only tell apart the tribes by the banners and flags waving over the roofs. Maybe it wasn’t their strength that allowed them to survive the Farlands, but their discipline.
“Hurry,” Pyrrah said.
The citadel stood like a white fortress over the valley, its white walls reflecting the moonlight and making it contrast against the farming terraces. We followed the aqueduct uphill until we were past the inner wall. Pyrrah signaled to stop. Underneath was an inner garden guarded by several iron-clad Greyfangs.
Unlike the camp, the citadel was tightly guarded, but I couldn’t tell if they were protecting it against monsters or from intruders. Orcs trusted each other with their lives, even those of different tribes. Why would the Greyfangs be so zealous with the citadel?
Pyrrah signaled down, and we dropped on a rooftop. Even without Passives’ assistance, her steps made no sound. I followed. [Foresight] counted at least twenty Greyfangs around us. Their armor was crafted to be silent, but the manufacture wasn’t perfect and my ears caught their rattle even if they were outside my field of vision. We walked on the ledge, clinging to the wall. My feet barely fit on the thin walkway, but [Light Footed] made miracles even with my human balance.
The orc masonry was simple yet flawless, almost like they had power tools.
I wondered if they used the System to build the citadel.
Pyrrah stopped and listened to the night. A squad of Greyfangs exited the building beneath us. Invisible strands of System mana clung to their bodies, not quite like an aura like Zaon’s [Steadfast Shield], but almost there.
The orcs got lost among the stone alleys and we climbed to the third floor. We were on top of the citadel. The main building had a thin ledge and a domed roof pierced by several skylights. My suspicion of System-powered construction increased.
We walked the ledge until we found a hole in the wall with a small platform hanging towards the inside—probably the stand for a never-built statue. I peeked inside but Pyrrah pulled me back. The room wasn’t empty.
“This is it,” Pyrrah said.
A blue System Crystal, much like the one at Farcrest, floated in the center of the room. Ten orc shamans sat along the circular wall with their eyes closed. Faint trails of mana emerged from their heads and connected them to the Crystal. Before each shaman, there was a Greyfang warrior sitting cross-legged. The scene reminded me of the ancient humans of the Bard Song, sitting in the depths of their cave, weaving a group spell to hide the entrance.
“What are they doing?” I whispered.
Other than the faint connection, the mana of the Crystal remained still.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Pyrrah replied.
The backdoor opened. An old orc dressed in an exquisite red robe entered the room. Behind him, eight aides dragged a tied orc. The captive orc was dressed in a simple tunic without the marking of any of the tribes. If I had to guess, it was a member of the outer camp. He was terrified, but no matter how much he struggled, the mana-charged rope around his wrists didn’t budge.
A criminal?
“I don’t like where this is going,” I said.
“Wait for it,” Pyrrah said with a grave expression on her face.
The prisoner was thrown before the Crystal, and the shamans started muttering a spell. Specks of pure white mana surrounded them, barely enough for me to detect it. It was about the same amount of mana Pyrrah and Hallas used to cast their non-System spells. The specks of mana formed another thread and connected the captive to the Crystal.
The eight aides pinned the orc to the ground, which seemed excessive considering the binds and the gag. The old orc in a red robe came forward. He must have been the leader of the shamans. He channeled his mana and touched the captive’s forehead. I had to look away as a wave of mana hit me. The captive orc grunted under his gag as currents of pure Fountain mana emerged from his body. The aides fought to keep the captive pinned as his muscles bulged and power surged through his body.
“That’s an orc Combat Trance,” Pyrrah said, seemingly oblivious to the connection between the Crystal and the shamans.
Wolf told us the trance was supposed to be one of the secret methods orcs used to channel great amounts of mana. The trance multiplied the warrior's speed and strength; however, it always resulted in the warrior’s death. Raw Fountain mana surged through the orc, but the aides didn’t falter. After a moment, Corruption tentacles started encroaching on his body.
The shamans and Greyfangs sitting along the wall remained unfazed.
Black tendrils emerged from the captive orc’s chest and extended through his body, covering every inch of his skin until only his head remained untouched. I was well familiar with that process. It looked just like the spread of the Corruption after my first fight against the Lich. This time, however, the Corruption didn’t stop at the neck and continued its way up.
The orc turned to a deep shade of black much like the Wendigo or the Ghoul, even darker than the patches of Corruption on my body. The faint mana thread connecting the orc to the Crystal also turned black. The Corruption reached the System Crystal. In that moment, the shamans used their magic. Instead of the neutral white ‘natural’ mana, blue System mana surged from the Crystal, powering the spell. Bright, multicolor auras enshrouded the Greyfangs and seeped into their bodies, lodging in their chests like artificial mana pools.
“They are glitching the System with Corruption,” I muttered.
When the Corruption covered the captive orc, the aides stepped back and flames exploded from his eyes until he remained motionless on the stone floor. The aides who had pinned him down dragged the body outside the room, as if nothing happened. The System Crystal gleamed for a moment, and the connection was cut.
A shiver ran down my spine.
“Speaking of not dealing with Corruption,” I muttered.
Pyrrah was pale.
The Greyfangs, now with their mana pools refilled, abandoned the room and the next group of warriors replaced them. The aides appeared from the backdoor with the next sacrifice and pinned him to the ground. The lead shaman forced the Combat Trance on the unfortunate orc and the ritual repeated.
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“Let’s go. There’s nothing we can do,” I said.
Pyrrah agreed.
We retraced our steps and climbed the aqueduct to exit the citadel. Our night vision and silent step gave us an edge over the orc guards, and a few minutes later, we were back at the base camp. My heart raced and the faint speck of Corruption in my chest itched.
We sat on a bench in the main square.
“You are very sneaky for a human,” Pyrrah said.
“That’s a gift from a special someone,” I replied.
“The girl that looks like me?”
I nodded. Neither of us seemed eager to comment on the orc ritual. Since I’ve arrived in this world I have seen ever-increasing amounts of death, yet the orc’s execution left a foul taste in my mouth. One thing was certain: I wasn’t letting Wolf anywhere near the Greyfangs.
“We should sleep…” Pyrrah bit her tongue. “Not together, I mean. Each one in their own sleeping bag. Separately.”
Pyrrah seemed to deflate.
Despite their physical resemblance, Pyrrah and Elincia’s personalities couldn’t be more different. Elincia wasn’t a natural born leader, she admitted to being severely unprepared—and reluctant—to become the governess at the orphanage, but she had stepped forward and sailed into the storm. Elincia was comfortable in her skin. Pyrrah, on the other hand, seemed to be constantly walking on eggshells.
“You don’t have to put on an act,” I said.
“But what if I say something inappropriate?” She replied.
I wondered what the social punishment was for saying inappropriate things in elven society. Pyrrah wasn’t socially inept by any metric. On the opposite. It seemed she was overcorrecting herself. Was it a lack of experience talking to guys? The elven kingdoms might be more strict when it came to manners than the Ebros Kingdom.
“If you say anything weird, I will let you know and we will laugh it off,” I said.
Pyrrah didn’t seem convinced.
“Just to be clear, I respect your relationship with your elven girl and I won’t do anything to get in the way,” she said, fidgeting with the Frogstone.
I wondered if elves were hardcore monogamists, but I had no time to dig into that topic. Pyrrah had made the decision of showing me the Greyfang ritual, but I couldn’t wrap my head around the reason behind her actions. Our relationship was tense and our last conversation hadn’t smoothened the rough edges.
“You waited for Hallas to be asleep to take me to the citadel,” I pointed out.
Pyrrah shrugged.
“I have known him since he was a kid. He would’ve been opposed, but with the Greyfangs recruiting Wolf, I thought you should see that,” she said. “You understood what they were doing, didn't you?”
The elves were truly blind to magic.
“They seemed to be using Corruption to cheat the System. You didn’t notice all the mana that was circulating through the room?”
Pyrrah shook her head. Then, she formed the ‘ok’ sign with her hand. For a minute, she stood still, channeling mana. Then, she summoned a pure white lens inside of the ‘o’. She looked at me through the lens. She shrieked.
“That’s an absurd amount of magic!” Pyrrah said, examining me from head to toe. Then, she blushed and stuttered. “I didn’t mean to ogle.”
“There is no sin in looking, I guess… as long as you are respectful,” I replied.
“I was being respectful,” Pyrrah reassured me.
“I know,” I sighed.
Pyrrah fidgeted with her Frogstone. She was on eggshells again and I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. Despite the reluctance Hallas had to share information, she had decided to show me the Greyfang’s true face and I couldn’t be more grateful. She was an unsuspecting ally, but a welcomed one.
I grabbed a pebble and enchanted another Frogstone.
“What would you do regarding the Greyfangs?” I asked, bringing the conversation to a safer topic.
“I would leave as fast as possible. Playing with Corruption never ends well, and we are not in a position to force the Greyfangs to change their ways,” she replied.
Dassyra wouldn’t allow us to leave now that she thought she had a chance to get Wolf out of the System. Even if we managed to escape, it was too early for us to leave. We needed Ginz’s guns and ammo before we could return to the Farlands.
I handed the second Frogstone to Pyrrah and her eyes shone.
“Thank you, Pyrrah, you are a good person. I won't forget this,” I said. My father taught me kindness was paid with kindness, but I wasn’t sure Pyrrah was prepared for more praise. She blushed. “Go to bed, I’ll try to shove some sense in Dassyra’s head.”
Without saying more, Pyrrah returned to our tent.
As she disappeared around the corner, I felt a hint of guilt. I wasn’t planning on waking up Dassyra in the middle of the night to convince her Greyfangs betrayed the orc ways. I glanced at the citadel and summoned [Mirage]. A moment later, I was but a shadow.
I ran up the aqueduct, across the citadel wall, and down the rooftops.
The domed room with the System Crystal was empty. There were Greyfang guards outside every entrance, but the doors were closed. I dropped through the hole in the dome, activating the Wind-Shot Boots just as I reached the stone floor. Traces of System mana remained in the air.
The Crystal was almost my size, with rich blue veins and an opaque core. I activated my mana sense. It was alive. Hundreds of runes danced over the surface. I tried to use [Rune Identification] on them, but the skill simply wouldn’t work.
I had no clear plan. My first instinct was to destroy the Crystal. I could sever the connection between the Greyfangs and the System, but I wasn’t sure if their Class scrubbing method was related to the Crystal. Destroying the Crystal wouldn’t ensure Wolf’s safety and it would raise suspicion. Out of all the camps, only System-users had the skill to sneak past the Greyfang guards. The kids and I would be the main suspects and we had no safety net to retreat into.
Shu’s wise words came to my mind.
“It has to look like an accident.”
I might have the right tool for the job. The Access Rune.
The orcs certainly didn’t know what they were doing. If I changed the runes, they wouldn’t know why their glitch stopped working either. The Access Rune raised two options: I could fix the error and leave no trace of my involvement or I could mess with the code to render it useless. The first option—fixing the glitch—had a minuscule problem. I had no clue how to fix a System Crystal. I didn’t even know if the problem was fixable or just the natural outcome of one of the System’s subroutines. I was the equivalent of an intern with a month worth of experience in the programming language and there was no senior programmer to guide me through the intricacies of not setting the whole system on fire.
There was no way the Man in Yellow had written the System Code in the Crystals. He was smart enough not to leave the code out in the open where a natural disaster or a malicious actor could destroy them. I guessed the System Crystals were some sort of proxy or a relay or terminal, so if I destroyed one, it wouldn’t affect the System overall. The Farcrest Crystal Fragment was already shattered and no-one seemed to have problems with their Classes in the city.
“I should’ve majored in computer science,” I muttered, channeling my mana and preparing myself to engrave the Access Rune on my body. I stopped myself. “If I’m going to do something wrong, this is the moment for a System prompt,” I added, looking at the ceiling.
Nothing happened.
Was I even doing the right thing?
Before engraving the rune on my flesh, I brushed my fingers against the crystal, and the next moment I was transported somewhere else. The stone walls became rugged and jagged, and changed in color. The dome disappeared and the ceiling dropped. Glowing fungi grew in the corners and it smelled like soil and humidity. Holes in the ceiling let shy rays of light in. I was in a cave.
I caught a movement with the corner of my eye but whoever was there escaped before I could focus on them. [Foresight] wasn’t working. I wondered if it was a wild animal or a monster. I tried to summon my mana blade without success. Then, I tried to identify the mushrooms. The skill didn’t respond. Was I back on Earth?
I cursed.
For the first time in a while I was forced to rely on my own intuition rather than in [Awareness] or [Foresight].
The dirt under my feet had been compacted and the weeds cleared, forming a trail into the cave. There were no feces or animal remains. I looked around, capturing the little details. As my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, I noticed tool markings on the ceiling and walls. The skylights were perfectly set to catch sunlight, so I assumed they were artificial.
We were barely under ground level, so I crossed out the possibility of being in a mine.
Even without [Foresight], I had an idea where I was.
I followed the passage until I emerged into a wide cave.
A circle of humans sat on a platform of stone, weaving a spell. Gatherers and hunters delivered their haul. Butchers prepared animal meat to be dried. Farmers collected fruits from the vines hanging from the walls. Weavers worked on their rustic looms. Armed guards protected the concealed openings in the rock. Everyone was wearing ragged, almost primitive clothing.
Almost fifty humans worked on the settlement yet not a single one noticed my presence. I knew where I was. In the corner of the cave I found confirmation to my suspicion. A chubby man dressed in khakis was sitting inside a bamboo prison.