Eric felt a tightness in his chest after sensing more than half a dozen powerful agents cloaked in shadow searching for him in the time it took him just to join his new friends in their souped up velimobile.
Despite his tension, Eric kept his expression carefree, trusting to his treasure hunter disguise while enjoying the feel of the breeze blowing his locks of crimson hair as Naje, their pilot, sent their hovercraft ripping along the boulevard far faster than he knew they should. But with a massively boosted Quickness and Finesse, everyone was safe and Naje’s stunts caused no harm to passersby, save for a few raised eyebrows and a curse or two. Everyone was fine, and Lone and Myl were laughing it up like a couple jocks in high school, even going so far as to pull out some truly strong bottles of Fizz Ale and pass one to Eric as well.
“It will give you a buzz, Ernest!” Long said with a wicked grin.
Eric snorted. “Doubt it!” he declared, taking a pull from the longneck, enjoying the bitter tang with just a hint of lemony sweetness. He leaned back and closed his eyes, so damned happy to slip right out of the goblins' noose relaxed and happy, sipping ale, not sweating bullets while dodging a dozen sharp-eyed shitheads. Even though he was juggling a half dozen balls right at that moment, appearances were everything, and he knew he looked like a joyriding cadet without a care in the world.
And that was fine.
Because mercenaries taking their ease were the last thing that Bloodtear was looking for, and he had every intention of giving his new friends an equally exciting joyride in the high experience department real soon. But for the moment, with the breeze whipping his hair back, enjoying he sight of a starry night sky with Fizz Ale burbling happily in his belly, he felt strangely content. Not to mention that he now had a whole exploration kit put together by a still too apologetic Nikita who had assembled it herself in the five minutes Eric had talked shop with Myl and Lone while Naje got their ride and gave their boss a call. Which meant that he now had everything he needed for the next step of his mission.
Getting to where his interface pinged that the ruin of a certain temple to Greed and Malice had obliterated a good portion of a territory now elevated to crimson status, even if wild mana flows and even wilder life meant that not everything had been obliterated. Still, if his hunch was right, salvation was at that impact sight.
But still, he’d be an absolute fool not to assume the worst, and if so… there was one final card to play.
Even more importantly, he had a twin sister to check up on. One that too may enemies hunting for Eric a bit too intently had completely prevented his from contacting in any way until now, the first free handful of moments when he could actually catch his breath and regain his bearings since waking up. But since he didn’t dare message her directly. So he did the next best thing.
A – Yuki, you there? I’m not sure if you remember me, but it’s very, very important that we talk.
Eric winced as the seconds marched inexorably on. Did Yuki even have an interface capable of pinging messages? He had thought that his status as a Contender would allow him to ping pretty much anyone, just like corrupt asshole administrators did, only he wasn’t a corrupt asshole administrator. Still, his relaxed mood was rapidly evaporating with tension as the seconds stretched on and a too enthusiastic Lone waxed long and boring about the benefits of joining Rising Sun Corp. As if he weren’t interested in simply hiring them outright.
Even Myl was giving Lone a look.
“Chill, man. he’s not a recruit. he’s a client.”
Lone winced, chuckling awkwardly at his own spiel. “Yeah, sorry. My bad.”
“No biggie,” Eric assured. “And will you check out Blue Palace! Isn’t that sweet structure a treat? It’s almost as high as the Shanghai Tower once was.”
Myl glanced back, smiling in mutual appreciation for the massive brightly lit Blue Palace, like a beacon in the starry night sky.
“What the hell’s a Shanghai?” Lone asked.
Eric smiled sadly. “Just a bit of old world history. Never mind.”
Y – This is Yuki. Who the hell are you? You sure you got the right person?
A – Yuki! It’s me! A new friend from your latest delve ;) You’re currently holed up at ‘E’s place, am I right? - You were part of a group with Jack and Emily, Richard and Steve… and Ron was an asshole who only cared about Emily’s safety and didn’t give a shit for Jack or Steve, coming from poor roots. Ring any bells?
Another long pause.
Y – Just who the fuck are you, and what do you want?
A – Lol! Not the response I was hoping for. Look, do you remember your last delve, a certain maze you all were exploring when suddenly your connection to the surface snapped? And some wildcard asshole with a collar around his neck suddenly made an appearance?
Eric’s guts twisted in a knot when Yuki went completely silent for far too long.
Myl flashed a pleased smile when they made it out of Freetown proper, heading toward what looked like a high-end lakeside cabin that Eric had no doubt would look absolutely picturesque when seen by daylight, with the soothing lake in the foreground, a lush forest filled with evergreens and maple to the rear, and a glimpse of Freetown’s glittering towers of glass, Altopaz, and chrome in the distance.
It was his tension that kept his from noticing the wonder they were so casually using, when suddenly it clicked, especially when he saw the horse-drawn carriage filled with fresh fish packed in ice smelling of arcane origins even now making its way to the city.
“Wait, we’re not hovering over grass… were making use of an actual road! Two wide lanes, a narrow bike lane on each side as if its needed it. And fuck, look at those shiny train tracks!”
Myl gave his a curious look. “Well, yeah. Terra’s always had roads and tracks. At least this territory does, resonating perfectly with the ley-lines actually keeping this region from bloating like a red sun. We suspect it also helps channel and stabilize mana resonances and differing spiritual pressure isolating this region from the neighboring wild territories, keeping us safe from mana bleeds or wild storms, especially those originating from the red zone just a couple miles to our south.”
Myl then barked a laugh. “To think that with such a wonder right in front of all your faces, some of you natives claim Terra had no magic at all, pre-ascension.”
Eric swallowed his awed surprise, giving a rueful chuckle. “Good thing I’m finally getting out of Freetown. Too much time studying dusty tomes for secrets and clues. Not enough time experiencing the real world in all it’s glory.”
Lone gave his an amused smile but said nothing, taking another pull from his bottle.
Y – Who the fuck are you talking about?
Shit! Eric’s heart sank. To think that all the friendships he had forged, the alliances he had made, that all of it meant absolutely nothing with that endless night now over. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. No matter how sweet it was to wake up with certain perks and advantages or treasures grandfathered in as if they had always been… it still cut like a knife to lose precious connections and friendships that he had hoped might one day lead to so much more.
A – Your Sister and her GF are now very close to a younger Contender, but they’re all radiating PC protag vibes, so you know you don’t have a chance of breaking up their drama-romcom. Expect to be an aunty less than a year from now.
Y – WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
Eric winced.
A – Once, in a life you never quite lived. I was a friend. A fellow adventurer thrown into a delve with you. I mean come on, do you even recall how you came to end up where you now are? Why you’re in really comfortable digs… or did you wake up always belonging to a certain faction? - Look, it means nothing now, but we once tossed the phrase ‘System Shenanigans’ around. Believe me, that’s in play. We used to be friends… almost more than friends… but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I really need you to give ‘E’ a message. The person in charge, a message. Please? Will you do that for me?
Y – Fuck off. That shit isn’t real. The bad dreams AREN’T REAL! They never happened.
A – Fair. Just please tell E that a certain someone who once did a movie with her is worried about her and is doing his best to look out for her. Please tell her to message me, and I go by Ernest Slaughter now.
Y – Okay now I KNOW you’re fucking with me. The boy I dreamed about… that sure as hell wasn’t his name.
A – Please, just message her? And is the whirling whirlpool of friendly air currents still keeping everyone safe and comfy?
Y – Now you’re just looking for intel, motherfucker.
A – NO! That was a stupid question from me. I apologize. Say nothing. Just… please tell you-know-who that her you-know-what is very worried about her and is HERE for her. I’ll be tied up for a few days, but then I’m whatever she needs me to be, wherever she needs me to be. Tell her that, okay?
Y – Prove you know me. All bullshit aside. Tell me SOMETHING I’d only tell someone that I was close to. Prove you’re not just a desperate figment of a bullshit dream, or a SPAI.
A – Okay. But forgive me if it’s… you know.
Y – I’m a big girl. You can tell me.
A – You’re uncle was an asshole. You broke free. I thought you were beautiful and awesome and I didn’t care about what past bullshit you had to deal with. It didn’t make the you of today any less special or beautiful or precious to me. So… yeah. We had that conversation. And I sure as fuck was no angel when I was younger either. And I know about um… the knack you have that you’d best tell NO ONE for obvious reasons.
Eric winced, almost certain he had written too much. But he quickly pulled his worried expression into an excited grin when their veli stopped beside what truly was an awesome looking lakeside retreat. The grand cabin retreat looked more like a billionaire's idea of a luxurious getaway manor with a cabin theme than any sort of weekend getaway home. Certainly the varnished hardwood exterior was pretty, though Unified Perception made it clear that it was really just covering for an Altopaz structure that would at least make the building resistant to muskets and blaster fire from the more common Mark-I variants, so long as it wasn’t shot by a perk-centric specialist. And it even had lakeside dock with several sailboats and fishing skiffs.
Eric smiled, taking a breath of fresh lakeside air, his eyes twinkling when he caught sight of a guy and girl radiating Bronze potency and a hell of a lot of passion getting up to no good in the lake just a short distance away. It might be closer to midnight than not, but with their Perception, everyone knew the score.
“Welcome to our little home away from our actual Jitan hub homes. But considering that we’ll be here for decades, I guess this really is our home,” Naje said, ushering Eric inside the cozy building.
“Dining room’s down the hall. We have access to Blue Corp entertainment modules upstairs, and the training room is our forest-sized back yard. And whatever you and the captain work out, stay for breakfast. The giant snapper’s a treat when properly grilled up, and Riz, our mecha specialist, is also a mean cook, even without taking up that particular Profession.”
Eric soon found himself walking down a hallway of varnished hardwood and hunting trophies before Naje knocked on the door at the end of the hall leading to a spacious room with windows overlooking the lake, comfortable leather recliners, and a scowling man with lines on his cheeks and salt and pepper hair who was taking his ease on the other side of an executive desk.
Eric blinked, surprised to find the man radiating signs of aging as well as potency. Or perhaps he had only truly ascended when well into middle age? Certainly he was powerfully built and looked quick, deadly, and ready for a good fight. Yet the look he gave Eric was that of a shrewd businessman.
“Name’s Bennett, head of the Terran chapter of our little organization. You must be Ernest Slaughter,” he said, rising to clasp his hand.
“Yup. As far as the System and Blue Corp contracts are concerned, that’s most definitely my name. But my friends call me Eric when we’re not being city-formal, and I do hope that we’ll all be good friends very soon,” Eric said with a cheeky grin as an interface message flashed across his mind’s eye.
Contest of Strength in effect: You have voluntarily failed!
He pretended to wince the moment he sensed the man giving his hand a squeeze around the 200 point mark.
Bennett’s grip eased the moment Eric showed the slightest trace of discomfort, yet if anything, the man looked impressed, giving a slow nod.
“Please, have a seat. Lone, get us some drinks. Now I understand you’re interested in hiring our outfit for an expedition?”
Eric nodded. “I am indeed. An expedition into the territory just south of the mana fields stabilizing this one.”
Bennett furrowed his brow. “You know that’s an outright hot zone, right? The mana’s not just untamed, it’s outright wild. Red tier. Recently inflated from orange and that, as you probably know already, is a very bad sign. The monsters tend to warp in regions like that. They’re always aggressive, and tend to be on the bloodier end of the crimson spectrum.”
Eric shrugged. “If it was a cakewalk, I wouldn’t be here willing to pay good credits for no more than three days of your time, now would I?”
Bennett crossed his arms. “Three days in wild crimson with swarming critters and mana-corrosive sands forcing our mecha specialist to work 24/7 just to keep our armor in pristine shape? That’s going to cost you a pretty penny.”
Eric chuckled, Social Perception, What The Other Party Wants, and Know the Score perks giving him a rough sense of just how the conversation would flow… and what his present opponent and future ally was really after.
“Come now, Captain. You and I both know that when all’s said and done… you’re thrilled. A sanctioned mission from someone authorized to give an unlimited number of them. And that’s all the excuse you need to get the sweet, sweet potency that you can ONLY get in an Ascending world, putting so much pressure on whatever bottlenecks you, me, and all your underlings are struggling against that they can’t help but burst open as revelations flood your soul and you revel in your explosive ten-fold rate of growth compared to anywhere else as you embrace a tiny chapter in the tale of this world’s own ascension. Terra’s legend slowly becoming your own. And who knows just how far you’ll ascend? Deep Bronze? A half-step Silver with a thousand or more bonus years to savor all of the galaxy’s delights when our little ascension here on Terra has reached its peak?”
Eric’s eyes twinkled as he gazed at the captains’ frozen expression. He leaned forward, lips creasing in a tiny smile. “Take my contract, captain. If fortune favors us, the monsters will EAGERLY swarm, and we will slaughter them, together, and break past all that ever held us back before.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Bennett took a deep breath, his gaze hardening with hawk-like intensity. “My understanding is that you’re a treasure hunter of sorts? Not a battle-fiend.”
Eric laughed. “And why the hell can’t I be both?” He sighed and leaned back on the leather recliner, gazing up at the ceiling, legs crossed, hands behind his head, the picture of self-confidence. “Whether its an easy cakewalk earning your men thirty thousand a day, or a slaughterfest where they’ll be making triple that and leveling up as well, either way, this contract spells pure win, and you know it.”
“You still haven’t told me the details of this expedition of yours.”
“Your oath this stays between us?”
“Of course.”
“Dreams and legends, captain. Am I correct in assuming that you, like pretty much every other Classer that’s stationed here, has had some pretty colorful dreams of late?”
Bennett scowled. “Your point?”
“My point is that with the right class, those dreams MEAN something. And if my hunch is right, the tragedy of a timeline that isn’t quite ours, lives we never quite lived, STILL manifested as a very real treasure that we most definitely can claim in this timeline… but only for the next three days. After that?” he sighed, flashing a sad smile. “After that, it’s as if it had never been.”
The captain steepled his fingers, gazing at Eric for long moments.
“Ten million.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind.”
Bennett smiled mirthlessly. “You’re right about one thing, we all enjoy potential of this world like nothing I’ve ever savored before. But the risk of peril is also greater. Have you set a single foot inside the wild reds or are you all talk at this point?” He shook his head. “Not even the toxic moons of Verradune are quite so corrosive to our mana-tech. Why, our specialist has leveled thrice since we got here, because the mana discharges are almost as bad as Hyperion Radiation!”
Eric flashed a cold smile. “Sorry, Bennett. I know just how deadly Hyperion radiation is. The territories here are a cakewalk compared to that shit.”
Bennett snorted. “Fair. It’s still bad, though. And I have gear to maintain and men to care for.”
“Men who will make one hundred thousand each, triple that if it’s nonstop battle. If you bring a crew of let’s say… half a dozen? That’s six hundred thousand right there. Now I know you think you’re hot shit, Bennett, but are you really worth six of your own men?”
Before he could answer or huff in protest, Eric smiled.
“I’m going to just table that conversation and say yes. Yes you are. And worth every penny. So that’s a baseline of 1.2 Million. 1.2 Million that I’ll stretch up to 3.6 million if a single one of your men actually levels up during our expedition. So that’s a double… triple? Win for you and your men. More than fair, I think. So, what do you say?”
“My men and I aren’t going anywhere near that hot zone for less than five!” Bennett roared, standing up and placing his powerful hands on the table, glaring down at Eric. “And if you think any other merc company will even touch you with a twenty foot force rod, you’re out of your damned mind!”
Eric flashed a brilliant set of perfectly white teeth. “So long as I get double share of whatever loot is found… and all the gold, of course, I accept. Do we have a deal?”
The man stared at Eric for long moments, his hard glower cracking into a smile when Eric pulled out his Blue Corp card.
“And you can pay that offhand, right now, kid?”
“Of course.”
Bennett gazed at his for long moments. “You should know that gold is one of the few things that delves rarely have, right? Or is this one of those exceptions?”
Eric winked. “Maybe it’s a lost city of gold. Maybe it’s a quirk of my class. Maybe I’m just thinking lucky thoughts. Either way, any gold we find is mine. All other valuables? I get a double share. Now if it’s something more nebulous or bulky than that, I guess we all take what we can carry… but if you’re bringing vehicles, and you damn well better be… I still want a double share.”
“And if there’s nothing at all to be found after three days of searching?”
Eric clenched his jaw, but still he knew better than to reveal just how perilous the stakes truly were. “Then we extend the contract another three days. Do we have a deal?”
A powerful rugged hand clasped Eric’s own.
“We have a deal.”
“Fucking awesome. So, can we leave by first light?”
“Damn right we can,” Captain Bennett said, flashing a grin and sharing a celebratory toast when Myl hurried in with a bottle of bubbly and several glasses.
“Sorry, Captain. There was a—”
“Stow it and grab yourself a glass. We just got a contract. We leave at first light. Spread the word,” he said, Myl immediately snapping a salute and giving Eric an approving nod before darting off.
From there, it was just a short matter of drawing up and signing a basic contract and surprisingly, Captain Bennett was more than happy to give Eric free run of both entertainment facilities and the training facilities outside, after escorting him to his quarters, and bidding him a good night.
Eric supposed it made sense. After all, he was someone looking to do business with them, and he had just signed a mutual confidentiality and do-no-harm pact. Which meant that his secrets were safe, though he didn’t plan on sharing any, and that if he stole a damn thing or bit the hand that was feeding him and holding his money, his cultivation base would be very unhappy. And since he wasn’t just hiring them but had already put down 5 million in advance… why the hell would he fuck with his own investment? he assumed that was the logic they were using. That, and the confidence that came from being Bronze tier professional hunters and killers. After all, what could the average chump do before he just got himself killed, fucking with the wrong people?
He sighed with contentment, sinking into the luxurious soft stuffed mattress allowing himself just to take a deep breath and let the tension ease. For all that the deadline was like a ticking bomb of anxiety in his head, he gave himself permission to take a breather. Five stress free minutes. Because he had accomplished the first crucial step! He had escaped the city without any soul-tainted edicts or warrants forcing him into nightmare legal traps of submission or forced compliance, and he hadn’t needed to paint the city red with his enemies’ blood, forced to declare vendetta and fight a no-holds-barred war of genocide the very fucking hour he woke up, still trying to get his fucking bearings. No. He had escaped the initial trap and had just hired what he hoped would be excellent cover with which to slip past any goblin checkpoints or other shit that might block his way or hinder him. Because he might not fear any fight, but he sure as fuck he feared administrators and barristers… at least until he managed to secure the gold. So why not use the same merc crew that had helped him slip out of Freetown to escort him right to the gold?
Why not indeed.
So when he felt his head snuggling into the soft down-stuffed pillows he didn’t fight it too much, giving himself just a few minutes to lean back on the plush thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets and take in the most luxurious looking lodgings any high-end corpo could want, including a Jacuzzi and a wet bar that was stocked with a variety of ales, liquors, and a number of narcotics, stimulants, and aphrodisiacs that looked exactly like the high end shit he had seen in too many New York parties that he saw in both vial form and wrapped up like party candy. But what really caught his eye was the home entertainment system that apparently worked just fine, seeing as the lodgings were equipped with Blue Corp tech and entertainment modules, from what Myl had said.
Best of all, while the guests were enjoying themselves, they could take in a glorious view of both forest and lake from the floor to ceiling windows that he understood were really transparent Altopaz panels that could resist small arms fire, and of course it made it all the easier for his hosts to make sure he was enjoying himself and not up to trouble in his quarters as well.
After just a few minutes relaxing and coming just a bit too close to nodding off altogether, Eric shook away the sleepies and got to work.
First thing he did after his Interface Map made it clear that there were no reds or greens hovering around his quarters or right outside the lodge in sight of his windows, was shut the drapes and don his mithril prizes, taking the time to carefully cinch the mithril hauberk tight to his waist, and make sure his belt and hanging scabbard were aligned for the smooth unsheathing of his dachi. He then donned a thin parka that would protect against dust, debris, and cloak his priceless armaments from casual observation, before departing from his temporary quarters with the too-tempting plush bed and headed out back to the training area.
First, he took a few moments breathing deep of the late night forest air, enjoying the sharp scents of pine, cedar, and night blossoms perfuming the breeze. He allowed his senses to expand, sensing roughly the whereabouts of the near dozen battle mercs and the handful of auxiliaries that called this compound home. Most of them were resting quietly, a couple were fucking, and no one seemed to be paying his any mind at all.
On the one hand, one might think he still should have had an escort, no matter how confident they were in their own prowess or his common sense not to be an idiot. On the other, it was almost two in the morning, and if he was supposed to be up by six, he’d be a fool to exhaust himself now. Perhaps most importantly, he wasn’t stalking their rooms triggering who knew what sixth sense or perimeter alarms they had. Instead, he’d left the lodge completely.
He took another deep breath, allowing the tension and worry to ease completely away. In this 2 to 6AM bubble there was no stress. He was in a safe zone in his own personal timeline where he could rest and grow. He would let tomorrow take care of tomorrow.
Now, the only thing troubling him was that he still hadn’t received any messages from Elonia or Yuki. He could only pray that his sister was sleeping and that Yuki would reach out to her first thing in the morning. It made sense, he supposed. All she knew for sure was that a stranger spouting uncomfortable truths wanted to talk to Elonia. Yuki was right to put that sus conversation on hold, at least until first light, when Elonia was well-rested and ready to handle yet more drama.
Or perhaps Yuki had effectively System-blocked him, in which case there was nothing more he could do until Freetown and the 120,000 people inside were safe. Then he’d race back for all he was worth, and probably be pushed to the limits again trying to save his sister, because that’s just how things seemed to role, post apocalypse.
But one thing he was not going to do was flip identities in a house full of high-strung Bronze killers to message Elonia directly. Not when it would immediately ping his foes as to where he was, foiling his attempts at slipping free of the net he was sure Bloodtear Syndicate had in play, and putting the Rising Sun company in the sights of his enemies for no good reason. Hell no. He had already learned just how paranoid resourceful his enemies were in Freetown, even though they still thought that he was just a spoiled clueless scion.
The disadvantage of having hit his enemies so hard during that endless night was that now so much of the remaining goblinoid resources, Bronze tier resources, were now all focused on securing a foothold here on Earth by any means necessary. Clearly, they were desperate to claim Freetown which would change their fortunes dramatically and cripple Eric’s dreams of bringing the former USA back to even a semblance of the prosperity and safety it had enjoyed just a few years before, all former political bullshit aside.
No matter what it took, he would not allow Bloodtear Syndicate or any other surviving goblin faction to fuck over his city. And if that meant keeping to his present guise indefinitely, then so be it. It was as Ernest that he would learn to move and flow through both mithril mail, helm, and blade, before binding them all to his soul. Good thing they had near identical body types, even if his boyish features, green eyes, and bright red hair was considerably different from what his sister would recognize. Or perhaps she would. He looked more like his own nephew or cousin than someone utterly unrelated, and could only hope that the phoenix ring would keep anyone save his twin from making the crucial connection.
Eric flashed a rueful smile, refastening the belt over both armor and the light warding poncho he wore. A tad bit more cumbersome than he preferred with the fast-draw, which was why he had to to do his best to get used to it and adjust. And adjust as well to fighting in boots. Because Eric might be a badass happy to fight in indestructible blue jeans, bare feet, and nothing else, but Ernest Slaughter was a different story, and he had mithril gear that needed soul-binding and mastery both.
With that resolution in mind, he got to work.
***
“So, what do you think, captain?”
Captain Bennett peered thoughtfully at the hologram screen presently depicting a teenager embracing katas with his dachi that were nothing short of perfection. Each fluid movement flowing effortlessly into the next as his he weaved, struck, and darted about an imaginary battlefield.
Bennett took a sip of his drink, far stronger than the champagne he had enjoyed with their newest client earlier, and exchanged a look with both a smiling Lone and a very focused Myl.
“It’s clear the kid’s good. Elite Rank, at least.”
Lone whistled. “Jeez, that’s something! It took me ages to reach Adept with my blaster, and that was doing it the hard way. Do you think he took advantage of this world’s potency and force-ranked it up with potency points?”
Bennett gave a slow shake of his head. “No, it doesn’t look like a System imprint. You can clearly see how he’s woven together Sylvan dueling techniques with the Windridge Sect fencing style. You know, the style used by the very faction that made the sword you sold to him for a song?”
Lone flushed. “It was a fair trade. You made it clear that I was to do whatever I could to secure a regulation vibro-blade and force shield, and the gear he traded is top line. Even Riz said it was a solid trade!”
The captain snorted. “That may be. But what are the odds that you’d actually run into a practitioner who’s a perfect fit for a dachi half a foot longer than standard? Not to mention all the mithril that he has to know our sensors can read on him. Not unless he really is as clueless he looks. Either way, our client’s wearing well over a quarter ton of mithril, and he moves in it like he’s wearing a silk gi. Not that anyone with two hundred Strength will find it any sort of hindrance, but you don’t move that comfortably in it unless you’ve trained for it like we have our power suits.”
Myl furrowed his brow. “Windridge cultivators favor mithril armor and weaponry, don’t they?”
“They do.”
Lone sighed. “Shit. We’re working for a cultivator?” He chuckled ruefully. “He totally played me. Had I known, I could have squeezed his for a fortune!”
“But you didn’t know, Lone, and that’s the point.”
Bennett smirked, taking a sip of his drink as he watched the athletic display on the hologram, admiring just how well secured the mithril mail was on the kid, even if his poncho was already shredded and discarded. “That’s what’s so interesting. Just in the half hour we’ve watched him, he went from someone grasping at greatness to moving with the grace of a master. As if he was polishing long dormant skills. Yet how likely is that? He’s clearly too young for that.”
Lone grinned. “He’s a treat, ain’t he? Not even ageless. He looks like a teenager!”
Bennett glared at his man. “He doesn’t just look it. He is.”
Lone blinked. “No way! That’s impossible! Not unless…”
“That’s right. he’s a native. he almost has to be. And I’m betting a Contender as well. There’s no other way a child could have two hundred Strength!”
Lone groaned, rubbing his brow. “And I was actually flirting… I thought he was a grown man who had really lucked the fuck out with his Bronze Ascension. At least a hundred!”
Myl whistled. “Two hundred strength? In a kid? How the hell do you get there without having…” the man blinked and flushed. “Right. Ascending world. Contenders. Unlocking powers and shit we can’t even dream of. So, you think he’s on par with the newbloods in our corp?
Bennett shrugged. “Maybe, or…” His eyes bulged. “What the hell?”
“Boss?”
“Look at the fucking image!”
All three of them stared at the youth embracing katas just as fast and fluid as any skilled mercenary with a balanced enough build to maneuver a 50 pound blade at 200 Quickness.
“Shit. That’s not a freshly forged Bronze…” Lone’s voice trailed off. “Oh fuck it all, he was holding back!”
Their murmurs trailed off as the boy in the image began to go faster. Moving at what their system pinged as 300 Quickness. Then faster still. Much faster. Until he began to flicker, the vid cam now having trouble keeping up with his speed.
“Fuck it. I can’t even follow… how fast is this kid?”
Lone and Bennett ignored Myl’s soft curse.
“How fast?” Lone asked long moments later.
Bennett took a shuddering breath. “According to the training scanners we spent a million fucking credits instilling in our base… it doesn’t know.”
“What?” Lone scowled at the image. “What kind of cheap fucking…”
“It goes up to 500. That’s it.”
Myl rubbed his face. “So this kids’s quickness is over, what, 500? And he has the Strength needed to maneuver that 50 pound blade with the kinetic energy he’s generating… 300 Strength at least. At the very least.”
Bennett chuckled softly. “Right now that four foot long mithril blade will be striking with the kinetic energy of an orc cannon ball. He was faking that wince when I tested his grip strength. I knew something was off! “
Lone whistled. “No wonder he ditched the parka. he literally shredded it! Oh fuck, what’s he doing now?”
Bennett’s eyes bulged. “Fuck!”
“Boss?”
“Necromancy.”
Lone and Myl both stared at the youth who was now kneeling upon the ground, holding out his blade, brilliant emerald green eyes gazing out at the sky.
Eyes that were now leaking blood.
Blood that trickled down his mithril shirt, that took on the same glistening hue.
Blood that trickled over his blade, before it lit in furious crimson flames.
All three mercenaries, veterans of countless battlefields, felt their hearts pounding. All the more so when the boy’s graceful lips curved in a positively fearsome grin. A grin that began to stretch wide…. Too fucking wide.
His howl of triumph chilled them all to the quick.
Then he began to dance once more. Only now his blade was alight with crimson fire that flashed through the air, doubling the length of his mithril dachi.
Myl and Lone exchanged a look, before turning to the captain who was now gazing at the screen with the same intensity as when analyzing a battlefield.
“So, what’s our play, boss?” Myl whispered.
The man met their questioning gazes with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Our plan is we get some sleep. We have an expedition starting tomorrow.”
“But boss!”
Bennett gave a curt shake of his head. “But nothing. A contract was signed. We keep each other’s secrets, we do each other no deliberate harm. And now I know why he was so focused on that particular clause.” He flashed a rueful smile. “If there’s one upside, those who dare mystical classes… especially cultivators, take their oaths very, very seriously. And I was wrong. It wasn’t necromancy. Not exactly. he used blood magic, a far lesser crime. Besides. All practitioners of even the foulest arts have been granted unlimited asylum within Blue Corp territory, so long as they adhere to Blue Faction laws and cause no harm to citizens, tourists, or property while sheltering within those territories.”
Bennett chuckled. “Not to mention we risk serious repercussions, accepting any goblin bounties with our base just outside of the most technologically sophisticated city in this entire backwater world, which is 100% Blue Corp owned. Besides, Elly would absolutely bust our asses if we worked with the goblins in any way whatsoever. So relax. If he were any kind of spy, he’d know that we’re recording everything he’s doing, that there are no secrets in this compound that we’re not aware of, and he wouldn’t be showing off his powers like this. So, if anything, you all can rest easier tonight than you have in quite some time.”
“Why’s that, boss?”
“Because with this Contender on our side, our odds of perishing in a hot zone tomorrow, low as they are, just got cut in half.”