Chapter 31.2 - The Spoils of Battle
“Accept my party invite so that I can send you their information. As I’m a guild member with Morphi, I’m able to access his assessment myself and share it with people for a limited time. The paper was just for tagging it to be sold later.”
Trey paused as the notification popped up in his vision, but was momentarily distracted by the screams and wails of someone’s mother off to the left. The woman was crying relentlessly over her dead son, and Trey did his best to peel his eyes away and ignore it. He couldn’t help feeling sad for her though, if that’d been his family… oof. He didn’t know how he’d react.
“You have been invited to join Tomrankan’s party, do you accept or decline?”
He pressed the accept icon, and immediately Tomrankan’s name appeared in the top left corner of his screen with his status bars next to the name. He was a level 26 battlemage with a good amount of mana as well as HP.
“Alright, I’ll send you the list now. The scroll and book are both written in the demonic tongue, so you should be able to read it, all of the others were in the native ‘Human’ language so I left those out.” Tomrankan paused, shifting over to his own screen and tapping a few of the icons just before Trey received the notifications. “Look these over while I get you a fresh change of clothes. Yours are all bloody and torn up, we were able to scavenge some of the worthless articles for pocket change and you can have those free. I’ll bring some new sandals for the girl, hers look terrible.”
Trey glanced Rivia’s way with those words and saw that her sandals were indeed in bad shape. He hadn’t really paid much attention to them in the first place, but it was a kind gesture from the old man so Trey didn’t refuse.
Tomrankan got up with a wave and stroked his beard absentmindedly, grimacing as the sun from above pierced the clouds and blinded him for a second. Then he began to walk away and towards a large wooden crate that’d been set aside next to one of the horse-drawn wagons.
The items left in front of Trey ranged in type and rarity, leaving Trey a little perplexed and wondering which he’d want more. The first item was a teal-colored robe just like most of the cultists had been wearing, but this one differed slightly. It didn’t have an opening in the front at all, coming to an end at waist-level front-side before splitting out in either direction further down to the knees at the back. Upon further inspection: Trey noticed there were flat metal slats each about the size of a hand woven into the fabric of the material, with the sleeves coming down to his elbows. Then there was a pair of basic, brown leather pants which were in a much better state than the ones Trey had on. There was a wicked looking dagger that curved back and forth six times before coming to a long pointed tip, with the handle being a burgundy color and the actual metal of the blade itself being a basic steel. It came with a sheath and a small belt to boot. The bracelet was next, having rubies embedded into a decorated and thick copper ring. Then there was a rolled up parchment, and the small brown book Trey had seen earlier in passing.
Cultist’s Hooded Battle Robe (Light Armor)
Item Tier: (6) Uncommon
Armor: 14 physical resistance, 33 magic resistance
Bonuses: +5 mana regeneration per minute
Requirements: 8 Intelligence, 5 Wisdom, 5 Strength
Durability: 79/90
Special: None
Enchanted Leather Pants of Speed (Light Armor)
Item Tier: (6) Uncommon
Armor: 8 physical resistance, 7 magic resistance
Bonuses: +13 speed when wearing
Requirements: None
Durability: 18/22
Special: None
Dagger of Sacrifice
Item Tier: (7) Rare
Damage: 16
On Hit Effect: None
Bonuses: None
Requirements: None
Durability: 100/101
Special: Experienced gained by sacrificing to the higher powers is doubled.
Vrama’s Bracelet
Item Tier: (9) Grand
Requirements: Fire Attribute, 80 Intelligence
Durability: 200/200
Special: Enables wearer to heal 10 HP for every Fire based spell initiated
Spell Scroll: Fear
Item Tier: (7) Rare
Requirements: 9 Intelligence, Curse Attribute
Durability: 10/10
Special: Instantaneous learning of the spell ‘Fear.’ Target receives no actual damage, but is ridden with unnerving fear while this spell is channeled if the target fails to resist.
Book of Miracles: Pestilence
Item Tier: (8) Very Rare
Requirements: 13 Faith, Dark Attribute, 50 hours of fasting and devout prayer to the Dark Origin
Durability: 9/12
Special: Disease afflicts your opponent, causing rot at an accelerated rate. Very painful. Reduces HP and SP equally.
“Hey Rivia, how much faith do you have?” Trey asked aloud while pouring over the information. He wanted all of them, and it was a little hard to choose. Not too shabby of a selection.
The demoness came and knelt beside him, bowing her head before adjusting her position to sit. “My Faith stat amplification is 26.”
Trey balked at the idea. She was only level 3. Not believing her he pulled up her actual status page to look at himself, bypassing the simplified version he usually saw and came to her Faith stat which had a big 26 right next to it. Her Vitality stat was a 1, which explained the extra 2 HP she had on top of the normal 100 that humanoids seemed to have. Every single other stat point was put straight into faith. With 2 levels under her belt after the level 1 she had started at, she should only have 10 stat points to use. On top of that he realized she hadn’t put her 2 skill points into anything either.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Using her interface and shaking his head, he placed both of her skill points into the rejuvenation spell. He’d need the help healing after all.
“So you’re not lying after all. Huh. How is that possible?” Trey asked, not understanding how she would have had so much faith and not understanding how it all added up; with her Faith points correlating to her DP or Divinity Points that she could cast miracles with. “And… Tell me about this Faith Driven trait. I’m confused by the description.”
Rivia let off a single quick hatred filled look and became downcast again. She lightly huffed, grimacing with a small yelp as she accidentally brushed her burned hand against the side of her robes.
“I have been given two divinity points by the All Spirit, gifted one recently while within your care. The other Faith points I gained while in prayer over the years, with every 2 faith giving me one Divinity Point. 26 Faith gives me 13 Divinity Points, and the additional 2 awarded by the All Spirit makes 15. My trait ‘Faith Driven’, which I acquired three years ago, decreases the cost of all miracles I have by 1 Divinity Point. Usually the Rejuvenation miracle would cost 2 DP, but because of my trait I only need 1 point to use it. The other miracle I have called ‘Immortal’s Infernal Blessing’ only needed one to begin with… but the long cooldown and short period of effect makes it harder to use efficiently.”
Trey looked her wounds over again. It was obvious that Atharost had beaten her rather badly, and the blistering burn looked rather nasty, but he was having a hard time feeling pity for her after she actively left him to die in a time she thought she could get away with it.
He cleared his throat with a fist to his lips. “Ahem. Rivia, what happens to minions when their masters die? Usually, I mean.”
Her brows furrowed and she anxiously looked to Atharost as if afraid he would strike her again.
“Now, Rivia. What happens?” Trey pressed, intent on getting the answer from her lips and not the ifrit’s.
“Yes, yes sorry… When the master dies the minions are set free of their contracts... Usually, anyways.” Rivia mumbled to herself. “I know that it doesn’t work like that for you… Napoleon’s coming back in a couple of days right? If you died, we’d just be sent to a nether realm to wait… right?”
Trey nodded, glad she understood her situation.
“Just making sure you know your place in life. You’re going to be my bitch for a while so you’d better clean up your act.” Trey glared at her for a couple seconds then took the little brown book of miracles containing ‘Pestilence.’ He tossed it to her and gave her the description, and as he did her eyes went wide with envy.
“Consider this an investment.” Trey remarked angrily. “Learn it as soon as you can, but piss me off again and I’ll seriously consider finding a replacement for you. Perhaps I’ll consider killing you off just out of spite. Understood?”
The young culn woman swallowed and her lips began trembling again, but she nodded hastily and clasped the book to her breasts with her good hand.
“Why haven’t you healed yourself yet?” Trey muttered, also tossing her the Dagger of Sacrifice. Again her eyes went wide with envy and she touched it, able to decipher the details for herself without much trouble. He noticed in that moment that the ‘identify’ skill didn’t show up on her simplified status page, but could tell that’s exactly what she was doing at this moment… he’d even seen the identify skill on her more detailed page and wondered why there was a difference.
“Atharost told me I had to wait for your order…” She murmured softly, still looking at the knife.
“Then do it. The knife is yours as well so take that with you when you’re done healing.” Trey glared at the woman and she thanked him before beginning to cast the Rejuvenation miracle, chanting under her breath and letting out a sigh of relief when it was all over. Her usual gorgeous features returned, the bruises disappeared, and the burns on her hand were gone. Then she strapped on the belt holding the sheath and dagger, obviously enjoying the look of it on her waist.
“Brought you back some clothes!” Tomrankan declared excitedly as he dropped a set of traveler’s pants, a linen shirt, and boots on the ground. None of them were anything spectacular, all of them being ranked ‘(4) Basic’ or ‘(3) Crude’ as an item tier, but at least they were clean. He pointed to Trey’s outfit with a happy grin. “Get rid of that garbage and change into something suitable! Something that isn’t blood stained!”
Then the old battlemage took a pair of sandals off the top of the clothes pile and handed them to Rivia. “For the lady.”
The culn woman let off a soft thanks and quickly exchanged her old ragged sandals out for the new ones, happy to see they fit well and tightening the straps going up around her shins.
Tomrankan snorted, folded his arms and turned to Trey. “I notice she’s holding that miracle book and the dagger. I’m glad you picked out some that she’d like, but aren’t you going to get something for you?”
The Grand tier item Vrama’s Bracelet would have likely been the obvious choice for most people, but it was dead last on Trey’s list. The 80 intelligence requirement meant that neither Atharost nor Napoleon could use it, and until a much higher level it’d just be a useless trinket. He needed something to help now instead of later.
That left the speedy pants, the battle robe with a decent enough defense boost and some mana regen, along with the spell scroll ‘Fear.’
The spell scroll was the most obvious choice. Napoleon already had the ‘Curse’ attribute for learning those types of spells. When he got back after respawning he’d easily be able to learn from it given the 9 intelligence stat requirement it had. It would also be a good crowd control spell and make Napoleon that much more useful. Even if the enemies didn’t run away, they’d second guess everything they did. That alone could make or break a fight.
But… that’s not the one Trey chose.
“I’ll pick the robe.” Trey pointed smugly at the armored robe and the old battlemage laughed.
“Didn’t figure you’d choose that one, it’s certainly worth a lot less than a spell scroll! But choose as ya want. Here, take these too. If you want to use it to buy anything from us before we leave tonight let me know and I’ll give you a fair price.” Tomrankan got up to hand Trey both the turquoise robe with stitched interwoven armored plates and a small purse that clanked with the sound of coins.
The old man picked up the ‘Fear’ spell scroll as well as the pants and the bracelet, turning around and placing them back on the grid where that pompous rotund mage was still identifying things at an insane rate like a madman.
Cultist’s Hooded Battle Robe (Light Armor)
Item Tier: (6) Uncommon
Armor: 14 physical resistance, 33 magic resistance
Bonuses: +5 mana regeneration per minute
Requirements: 8 Intelligence, 5 Wisdom, 5 Strength
Durability: 79/90
Special: None
Trey put the robe on, feeling how light it was. The mana regen would be great and it was very comfortable. Walking a couple steps to the left and then right proved that it wouldn’t hinder his movement either because it only came slightly past his knees and only in the back.
He really did hate the teal color though.
‘I like the look.’ Sithis said internally, admiring their shared body just as Trey was. ‘But perhaps it would have been better to take the scroll. Should we buy it?”
The thought had occurred to him, and Trey gave an innocent shrug. “Perhaps...”
It was another hour before Tomranken said his goodbyes. The old man was in good spirits and translated for the villagers, he even got Trey a place to stay that night in one of the villager’s homes. Some guy named Borthome had volunteered and Tomranken had told Trey where their cabin was located before leaving with a part of the guild caravan. Some of the wagons took the bodies of their fallen, others carrying the severed heads of their enemies. More wagons following those continued on with boxes and crates of loot that they’d taken off the cultist bodies as well as from the tusked boars that’d been carrying supplies.
Tomranken in his final farewell had told Trey that if he ever needed him - to seek them out under the guild name: ‘Yostrius’ in the town of ‘Shiprenden’. Of course, Trey was completely unfamiliar with either name but he made a mental note of it and closed that chapter of his life for now.
“You should have taken the scroll. It would have made Napoleon a little more helpful.” Atharost remarked, shrugging and yawning to put an elbow on Trey’s shoulder. The taller ifrit looked down on his master, all 7 feet of demon looming over the human by a full foot.
Trey just chuckled and watched Tomranken’s wagon disappear along with the rotund mage Trey had forgotten the name of. Pulling the ‘Fear’ scroll out of a pocket Trey tossed it over to Atharost with a sly smile. The ifrit’s gaze lingered on the parchment for a time, and then he widely smiled to match Trey’s own expression.
“You thieving mongrel!” Atharost exclaimed, laughing and handing the paper back to Trey.
“The robe would have been hard to steal.” Trey remarked thoughtfully, tapping the paper against Atharost’s forehead like some sort of wise sage. “The scroll could fit in my pocket. It was an easy decision. Are you ready to go meet our hosts?”
Atharost frowned immediately, looking over the devastation of the village where the locals were still picking up their dead and cleaning up the rubble of destroyed homes. The green Oblivion gate had closed long ago, and only a couple wagons remained for the last of the demon hunter’s guild as they handed out the last charities for the day.
“I do not like the idea of sleeping in the same room as these peasant, human rats.”
“Oh come on!” Trey exclaimed, skipping a few feet forward and whirling around to land atop a large boar carcass. “It’ll be fun! I’m SO glad I’m not in that god damned Oblivion anymore! This is GREAT!”
Most of the villagers remaining in the town’s central square shot him curious glances, some even fearful ones, but none of them bothered him. None of them even knew what he was saying, nor did he understand them. It was kind of an awkward situation, speaking completely different languages and being left to his own devices in the middle of nowhere… but fuck it. He folded his arms as he squatted out to peer at the culn he’d slain earlier across the tiny village. The demon hunters had taken the culn’s head, but the body remained.
And Trey was still hungry… not for boar, but for culn. He couldn’t understand why... but he felt drawn to the corpse like an insect to a street lamp, lured into the shade of the overhanging trees by some undecipherable want and need to eat his kill.
His… kill.
The purr from Sithis in his mind put to rest any hesitation.
“Fancy a feast?” Trey asked the other two demons just as Rivia’s stomach loudly growled. He smirked her way, jumped off the large boar and patted her cheek twice. The girl flinched each time and Trey wrapped an elbow around her neck to lead her in the direction of the demon’s corpse.
“Have you had culn before?” Trey continued curiously, stepping over another corpse and moving out of the way of two village men carrying shovels.
Rivia nodded nervously and clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes… I have. A criminal sentenced to death… I had one of his kidneys.”
“And you?” Trey asked Atharost.
The ifrit shook his head. “I’ve always thought culn were rather disgusting creatures. My family used them as slaves, as did I when I was with my tribe, but that was the extent of it.”
Trey bobbed his head excitedly. “Well it’s time you tried it.”