Chapter 18 - Introspection
Canvas Cloak (Light Armor)
Item Tier: (5) Common
Armor: +2 physical resistance, +1 magic resistance
Bonuses: ???
Requirements: None
Durability: 13/40
Special: None
Old Tattered Cloth Tunic
Item Tier: (1) Garbage
Armor: None
Bonuses: None
Requirements: None
Durability: 1/12
Special: None
Trey finished inspecting the status pages of his clothes and summoned the Negaizer Prison Key out of shadowform to toss it absentmindedly to the side. Then of the remaining 10 stat points he had to assign, he placed 5 in willpower to open up another minion slot and 5 into strength. He took another look at Talsh’Noc’Un and frowned, knowing that if he was going to get anywhere close to wielding it to its full potential he’d need 710 strength. That was an absolutely ridiculous number and he was sure he wouldn’t get to see what this sword could really do for a very, very long time from now.
Shrugging it off, he then assigned both skill points to Chains of Chaos. Thinking back to when fighting the culn and minotaurs before freeing the prisoners, he remembered when these chains hadn’t been strong enough to hold some of his opponents indefinitely. Putting points into this spell should strengthen it and improve its function for immobilizing his enemies.
Meanwhile, he had finally come to accept the reality of his current situation. After the entity calling itself Nosguard had shut off the transmission days before, Trey had done some serious soul searching - becoming easy to anger with any interaction he had over the next while. But he’d thought a lot less of his family potentially dying in a nuclear holocaust with some strenuous mental gymnastics, and his mood improved the less he thought about it. Whenever the imagery would flash into his mind, Sithis would try to distract him using another subset of thoughts with spectacular effort.
Their group had lost an entire day before Trey could finally find it within himself to walk again. With the crowd of humans and dwarves in tow, he traversed through the mountain passes at a slow pace. Rocky crevices and withered plants were in abundance, and the occasional gust of wind carried sand to irritate their eyes or lungs.
“You you feel good now?” asked Napoleon from Trey’s large cloak pocket.
Trey grudgingly looked down and smiled at his newfound friend before looking back to stare at the bleak ground while he walked. "I'll be alright. It's just a hard pill to swallow, thinking that my family is probably dead."
Napoleon’s black pointed ears went down flat against his head and he frowned to pout at the larger man. To Trey’s right walked the old scholar Farthom and his granddaughter Inis, both of whom didn’t try to interact with the earthborn and let him have some quiet time while they went.
Trey’s long, thin, black tail came to a point and trailed out like a ribbon to float gracefully behind him as they continued their trek. A long cut from the base of the cloak up to where Trey’s tail protruded had recently been made, so that his tail was able to move freely without the cloak getting in the way. Long sharp horns only slightly larger in width than his tail protruded out of his forehead immediately beneath his brown locks, glowing red irises amidst a background of black sat in a sad and pained gaze. The greatsword hung across Trey’s back in a diagonal line with the hilt above and slightly to the right of his right shoulder, coming down to the tip of the blade to the left of his left foot. The blade’s giant crescent rune glowed deep crimson against the dark backdrop of the weapon, and it was somehow able to stay in place against Trey’s back without any sort of strapping to hold it there. Carrying the giant weapon around made Trey feel a little bit small, and the weapon hadn’t talked again since their initial encounter, but he was glad to have it. He was truly surprised he could even carry the damn thing at all and was absolutely certain that he wouldn’t have been able to under normal circumstances, much less wield it properly.
It probably weighed twice or three times what he did. Thankfully, the sword was helping him with each motion he made with it, allowing him to swing it around as if it were a lightweight baseball bat. Every chance he tried to identify the weapon or pull up its status page it resulted in the same informant he had gotten originally, and he wasn’t sure if this was a system glitch because he was under the assumption that he was supposed to be able to glean information on anything that was considered his minion.
Apparently living weapons didn’t count? He’d eventually have to find someone skilled in identification to do the job for him.
“I’m sorry about your family...” eventually said Farthom while continuing to look straight ahead. “I really am… I know how it feels.”
Trey nodded his head and otherwise ignored the older man as another gust of wind trailed down from the mountainside to blow clouds of sand, ash and dirt into his body. Putting up a hand in front of his eyes, Trey tried to shield himself from the relentless onslaught of bullshittery, but when it finally died down he didn’t celebrate. He was sure that more would be back soon enough to cause him discomfort again via the cursed weather this place had. The tall cliff faces on either side of the pass did nothing to stop the wind from pouring on, but rather it funneled the winds directly to them.
Over an hour later, the path came to a point where it split into opposite directions and Farthom motioned for them to take a left. Further down, the cliff walls faded away... and they came across a lake nestled between two of the mountains.
It was quite large, and the water was dark just like all the other bodies of water Trey had encountered thus far. It had a relative abundance of plant life upon the shores surrounding it too. It was the first time Trey had seen so much vegetation since appearing in this world. There were no trees, but various shades of purple shrubs and grasses. A cry of joy escaped the lips from one of the famished travelers behind Trey as a scrawny middle-aged man ran past, obviously heading for the lake. Soon the vast majority of people there had followed him and were happily drinking from the dark eerie waters. Most people that passed Trey by gave him a wide berth, giving him fearful looks and actively keeping a distance. According to Farthom, many of them had been seriously disturbed by Trey’s… hunger. Some of them had even had nightmares about the images of Trey feasting on culn or minotaur corpses.
Lifting a hand up to rub his chin and hide his frown, his fingers brushed against the end of the scar across his lower chin. He reflexively withdrew his fingers when he touched it, and let out an irritated sigh.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Meanwhile, the attractive brunette girl Trey had been ogling on occasion stopped to speak with Farthom. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and the her green eyes hinted at mischief on the horizon despite their current state of affairs. Trey stopped halfway through his pity-party and glanced over his shoulder to listen. He couldn’t understand a word they were saying, but wasn’t that interested anyways... as he was preoccupied with thoughts of other things back home.
[Human Dialect] “Well? Will you introduce me or not, old man?” Joselin asked. She frowned at the hesitation Farthom showed and jabbed a finger into his ribs. “ What is it to you anyways?”
Farthom scowled at the younger girl and slapped her finger away, turning slightly to look Trey over from afar. [Human Dialect] “What is your intent?”
“Does it matter?” Joselin asked with a small laugh. She grinned at the still sour expression the old fart wore and crossed her arms as she walked. “Do you not approve?”
Farthom scoffed and called out to his granddaughter, Inis, making sure she didn’t run off too far ahead. He kicked a pebble out across the dirt and thought for a moment before turning back to the woman with suspicion evident on his face. “I don’t. But it isn’t him I disapprove of, it is you. I know the things you have done and the men you have led astray for personal gain. What is it you have in mind this time, wench?”
Joselin feigned a hurt look and pressed one palm to her forehead as she closed her eyes, changing her expression mockingly. She waved in Trey’s direction when he again glanced back at them, but as soon as he turned around she grabbed Farthom by the scruff of his collar and pulled the frail old man towards her; meeting him face to face.
“It’s none of your business what I choose to do with the men I seduce. We are stuck in the midst of OBLIVION of all places, and that man is our best chance of getting out of here. He’s a fucking monster, and I’m utterly disgusted with him. He ATE those creatures and isn’t even human, but I’m going to make sure he likes me enough to take care of me.” She glowered at the old man before letting him go and snorted. “It will be in ALL of our best interests if we stay on his good side, right? So what if I want to lead him on? I will do whatever it takes to survive. Even if that means using my body to do it, even if it’s with that… that THING.”
She pointed at Trey with disgust evident in her voice.
“And believe me…” She continued threateningly as she exposed a small dagger at her hip that she had looted off a culn’s corpse. “I would do worse. Introduce me and keep your wrinkled nose out of my business old man. Or I will make your granddaughter disappear.”
Farthom’s face went pale and he stammered in anger, beyond being flustered, but quickly calmed down when Joselin put a finger to her lips. She leaned in and whispered into his ear, and the words she spoke made him go deathly silent as he considered them.
After a minute more of talking, the old scholar caught up and put a hand on Trey’s shoulder. [Ancient Demon Dialect] “Trey, this woman would like to introduce herself.”
Trey turned his head to look back at Farthom and the pretty brunette girl. He was rather surprised by the comment and had been confident that she also wanted nothing to do with him, just as most of the other people here.
[Ancient Demon Dialect] “Her name is Joselin,” Farthom continued with a fake grin. The girl smiled and waved before clasping her hands together and taking a step forward. “She wants to know if you’d like to join her for a walk while the others bathe in the lake.”
His eyebrows raised. Trey’s eyes scanned the girl up and down, and then glanced back towards the lake. People had indeed begun stripping to bathe in the dark, dirty water, while many others just lay upon soft patches of strange purple grass to relax. A few of them tended to the wounded and sick, and the few children were playing as if they didn’t have a care in the world. His eyes then turned back to the girl. He gave a grin and shrugged.
“Yeah. I’ll go.”
Farthom translated quickly for the girl, and she exclaimed something with a clap of her hands. Smiling brightly, she took Trey by the hand and led him away. Farthom shook his head, stood to watch them walk away and then began leading his granddaughter over to play with the other children along the banks of the water.
***
Off in the distance, bolts of lightning lit up the landscape from underneath huge dark storm clouds. The peaks of the mountains gripped the sky, hiding some of it from view, but Trey was very thankful that the winds were blowing the bad weather away from their position. He didn’t want to deal with another storm like the first one he’d experienced anytime soon.
Rocks and shrubs littered the banks with more of the occasional patches of purple grass wherever there was softer soil. Trey and Joselin had trailed the outskirts of the lake with the girl holding him by the hand the entire way. He was feeling rather down even with help from Sithis, and tried his best to smile when she caught his glance. When they’d reached the opposite side of the lake, she turned and pointed to a gathering of bushes. Trey didn’t quite understand, but her smile lit up and caused his depressing thoughts to abandon him for the time being. He nodded and followed her as she tugged at his arm.
She sat down in the middle of the shrubbery, a small clearing of sorts with a soft soil enabling the plants to grow, and pat the purple grass next to her.
“Trey...” she said softly and brushed her long brown hair out of her face. She was very pretty, and Trey was soon caught staring. She laughed giddily, and Trey’s embarrassed look of shame turned into an expression of surprise when Joselin began taking off her ragged linen skirt.
She was so forward that it caught him off guard. He’d grown accustomed to using alcohol, drugs, and sex to alleviate his probablems back home... Unfortunately, he’d had none of that since coming to this hellish new existence of his, so this was something he’d eagerly been craving. His heart skipped a beat, looking the woman up and down.
***
The sex was good, and it was definitely nice to have something take his mind off of the recent video message. Joselin’s bosom rested comfortably on Trey’s chest as she lay with her head and one arm crossed over his body. Her leg wrapped around his and she turned to kiss him again before resting her head back down.
Looking up, he marveled at the enormous mountains surrounding them. A solitary dark cloud hovered above the peak to his right, with the dull red glow of the two moons illuminating the landscape around them. It was eerily quiet, aside from the soft breathing of Joselin, and even the wind had died down. He eventually turned his head to look at Talsh’Noc’Un where it remained standing upright, blade-first into the ground.
His eyes narrowed. Why had he been chosen by both the greatsword AND the essence?
Thinking about it… he realized that the sword was likely destined to be wielded only by an infernal summoner. Possibly a warlock. If the sword was bonded to him as a demonic class minion, only an infernal summoner or warlock would be able to wield it, so he guessed at least that one made sense.
He still didn’t know why he had a ‘high affinity’ for the Black Magics though. Wasn’t that kind of stuff supposed to be evil? Trey didn’t think he was an evil type of guy. Maybe not a saint, but in an honest self assessment he thought he was generally compassionate and at worse he was in the grey area of morality. That said, perhaps he was being judged on his past life… and all the decisions he’d made to try and appease his father. If that was the case, he could understand it… though it irked him. He’d never WANTED to do those things… he’d never wanted to hurt or kill people. He’d just... done them without question.
Did that make him of poor character? Nazi war criminals were prosecuted decades beyond the holocaust even though it wasn't necessarily a foot soldier's idea to systematically try and kill an entire group of people off. They'd still done it though, they'd still followed through and participated in an act so evil that it would forever stain the history books. The only difference between him and them was who they were trying to appease, or who they took orders from. That alone... that alone said society would be very unforgiving in their judgement towards him, if such a judgement ever came.
This introspection wasn’t helping, but then again - society could go fuck itself. Society hadn't ever done anything for him, so why should he give a shit about the masses and their opinions?
He scratched his head with his free hand, the one that wasn’t cradling the now-sleeping girl next to him, and shook his head. It didn’t really matter now.
At the very least he was grateful for the small amounts of luck he HAD been handed. When he’d originally emerged back from the ruins and into the cave’s entrance, Farthom had tried inspecting the sword but was unable to get a read on it. Farthom hadn’t even been able to get a name of the weapon, and had continually questioned Trey about how he’d obtained such an item. Trey’d thought the lack of results unfortunate, and the scholar had grown ever more irritated that he couldn’t be of any use. Apparently, Talsh’Noc’Un was only going to be identifiable by people of very high identification skill. According to Farthom, the old man’s most adept skill was identification... so it was kind of insulting to his pride that he’d failed so miserably.
A loud screech echoed across the walls of the mountains to interrupt Trey’s train of thought, chilling him to his core. It was so loud that it woke Joselin up with a startle, and Trey let the girl slide off him carefully to look around. He wasn’t able to identify the source of the sound until people across the lake began to scream. He looked over to where they were pointing and saw three dark-blue dragons gliding towards them at increasing speeds.
No, Farthom had told him of the difference between dragons and drakes. Drakes were much smaller than dragons and these were only the size of a horse, so these were likely drakes as they weren’t anywhere close to the size of the two dragons Trey had seen battling in days past. To clarify his assumption, they were diving down through the sky from high up above... and Trey could see three Culn riders upon their backs. These must have been some of the domesticated drakes Farthom had referred to in the past.
Fuck.