Chapter 34: Made Some More Work for Myself
The goggles were iron rank and something she could use. Mona was silver rank, so it must have been something she kept around for this exact scenario as a test proctor, although higher rankers could use lower rank items. However, trying to use higher rank equipment caused a magical rejection, a spiritual pain that quickly accelerated in intensity. Beyond a few seconds, the pain would be unbearable, even for the hardiest of essence users.
Nara had no intention of making friends with someone like Raja. She wasn’t the type to try to be friends with everyone anyway. Psychology said that first impressions were usually accurate, and Nara knew she wouldn’t get along with Raja. Conversely, while she hated to admit it, her first impression of Sen was positive. She just had her own preconceptions of nobility and the rich, which were unfair to Sen. Her mother’s new husband was well-off, but the great families of Sanshi were on another level: the difference between riding first class and owning a private jet. She felt less disgust for Erras’ wealthy, perhaps because in Erras there were lower extremes of what wealth could buy.
Once you had your family compound, your people essenced up, and hell, a city-state if you wanted it, what else were you supposed to do? Amara and the others had the right idea.
She didn’t think Raja or those with him deserved to die for bad judgement. They were teenagers, and teenagers could be very dumb (not by personal experience, of course. Nara wasn’t a dumb teenager. She couldn’t dumb anything dumb if she stayed home and binged all 11 seasons of Doctor Who).
If she didn’t volunteer, Mona would save them. Mona might even pass those that decided to retreat early, upon realizing the difficulty of the task, unless that counted as abandoning your teammates, which would result in punishment. Her logic zigzagged, but ultimately, she concluded those five had all failed the moment they stepped into the forest.
“Wait…can you see in the dark?” Nara asked Thanatos.
He looked at her like the question was offensive.
“Alright bud. Just checking.”
Nara had a few advantages over the shadow weavers, even in their home base. The first was her aura control and strength far outstripped theirs. She even inadvertently specialized in stealth, manipulating her aura to be difficult to detect or affect. She had, after all, destroyed herself to escape: You can’t contain what didn’t exist.
On top of that she had her Moonlight Raiment’s passive anti-detection effect. What she had to watch out for were their sensory webs, which would alert them upon touch. The magic of the night vision goggles had brightened the night forest to a day forest, surpassing the effect of technology-based night vision. If not for its astounding effect, Nara wouldn’t have been able to avoid all the webs and would have strung herself up like a failed cirque-du-soleil performer.
Judging from the absence of terrified screaming, the battle hadn’t started yet. She spotted Raja from a branch, leading the group of five deeper into weaver territory. With no night vision, they didn’t see the webs increasing in density in the leaves, nor the shadow weavers that encircled them. Thanatos stalked through the darkness: Nara only knew his position through their master and familiar connection.
The weavers ambushed the group first, spitting webs that tangled limbs and weapons. A fire user burned them away, but his flames traveled up the webs, out of control, and started to burn some allies.... At least the webs had been removed. Of course, that’s when the terrified screaming started.
The weavers were 2 feet across, the sort of nightmare spider from the realm adjacent to hell known as Australia. One Australia-spawn approached a tangled essence user, singed and still tangled, venomous fangs poised to deliver a debilitating dose of a decidedly unfun injection.
A black shadow darted out, smacking the spider like a cat smacking flies, a crunch and a spurt of monster blood punctuating its end. He faded back into shadow before the essence user knew he had been saved.
Weavers were intelligent and tricky, but physically weak. Nara wouldn’t struggle to kill them like she had the stone rodent. Thanatos worked from the shadows, spears of dark flames intercepting bolts of webs in the air.
Mona wanted them to learn a hard lesson, so she tried to limit her interference only so much that they wouldn’t die and would instead make the decision to retreat. If the whole thing became too much to handle, she’d abandon this behind-the-scenes babysitting and transition to...dragging teens kicking and screaming to safety. She hadn’t quite figured out how to effectively evacuate a group of five contrarians.
She detected something approaching from the woods. Iron rank monsters, but they weren’t weavers. It seems the moment of transition would arrive sooner than she thought.
They were bark lurkers. The monsters disguised themselves as trees and killed unsuspecting victims, ambush monsters due to their large and slow size, but the commotion had called them over. They sensed easy, distracted prey.
No problem. Just evacuate the teens. Because teens souped-up on magical powers were famously known for being cooperative.
*****
“Raja, I think we should go,” Kenny called out nervously. He was the scout of the group, and his senses were better than most. The darkness of the forest was getting to him, and the continuous frustration of sticky webs that weren’t strong, but a constant delay that tangled the nerves in the pit of his stomach like a dyer lint about to catch fire (or like his clothes that had already caught fire). “Something else is approaching. More monsters.”
“I don’t sense anything,” Raja snapped. “Are you getting cold feet? Do you want me to return a laughingstock? After what I said to Mona?
“I’m a scout Raja,” Kenny said, nervousness bleeding into frustration. “I should be able to sense them before you. And we’ve already failed, who cares about your gods-damned reputation!”
“No. You aren’t better than me, not in any way. I have far more training than you will ever have, more training that your pitiable resources can buy. These pathetic bugs—” Raja said, skewering a weaver with a spear crackling with lightning that lit up the darkness in flashes, “—are nothing. Your desire to retreat puts you below nothing. So stop talking and start killing. What happened to your confidence earlier?” Raja scoffed. “You are just as weak as your will.”
Kenny was conflicted. He thought he had a chance to prove himself, and Raja was his ticket out of mediocrity. Sure, he was arrogant, but most heirs were some garden variety of arrogance. It wasn’t uncommon to join some haughty scion’s team and receive the benefits of their family’s resources in turn—If you could put up with their personality.
There was only one condition of such contracts: You couldn’t leave the team unless the scion did something justifiable of punishment from the society (money could buy everything, even teammates). Kenny was willing to put up with that, but he wasn’t willing to die. He didn’t think Mona would leave them here to die, but would she care about some upstart adventurer from a rival family, and his no-name lackeys? He told himself she wouldn’t let them die—that was her role as examiner. Yet, Raja’s notoriously irritating personality eroded his confidence. What if she really thought Raja was so annoying that she may as well let him die to his own mistakes? Or what if she let them get grievously injured? He didn’t want to languish in iron—that was expensive.
Or what if she made a mistake and didn’t get here in time? Iron rank was notoriously dangerous, and silver rankers weren’t omnipotent.
“I’m out of here, Raja,” he said, self-preservation winning out.
“You’ll turn your back on us the moment it’s all too difficult for you?”
“That almost sounds like you want me here. You should follow if you can get your spear out of your ass.”
Nara, watching the argument, indicated with a hand signal in the dark: Thanatos followed the retreating Kenny.
There were four left, still in danger. The lurkers were still on the move, lumbering and exposed. It was the perfect time to kill them before they set up in the path of retreat. Stone was one thing, but bark she could manage.
The question was, could the four left behind handle the weavers if she went to deal with the lurkers? They were down one member, and the weavers had changed tactics, sticking back and firing webs that the four struggled to deal with. The only weavers that had died did so because they had approached from the safety of the dense leaves. The rest, learning from their fellows' mistakes, stuck behind the covers of trees that dissipated Raja’s lighting spears.
“I wish I had another familiar right about now…” she muttered.
Mona said to handle what she could. Was she still being evaluated? Should she prioritize the safety of her adventurers, and stick around, or kill the lurkers in hopes of culling imminent danger?
Or… a third option: reveal herself and start killing weavers, then deal with the lurkers together?
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Even if Raja hated her for stealing his glory, even if he was uncooperative later, she thought option 3 was best.
“Fucking hell, guess I’m doing this.”
She sliced a shadow weaver clean in two, splitting its frail body.
“You?” Raja exclaimed, “Why are you here?”
“Mona told me to help out.”
“I don’t need help!” He roared; his sphere of lightning missed a weaver and fizzled out against a tree. His miss caused him to flush in rage and embarrassment. His every action felt like they were being evaluated, and Nara’s unimpressed reaction exacerbated it.
“I’m going to prove myself and rise above those arrogant Nisei, Arlang, and Fenhu!”
Pot calling kettle black.
But the poor teen seemed on the verge of tears, concealing it with prideful anger instead. She made the very intentional decision to take pity.
“Rome wasn’t built in a day,” she said, nimbly sidestepping a bolt of webs and retaliating with a clean strike that killed another weaver.
“What?”
“Sanshi wasn’t built in a day,” she corrected. “It was the effort of many that brought it to the glory and fame it has today.”
“And those bastards are unfairly stealing the power and glory we deserve!”
We? Was he referring to his family?
“Power and glory are earned and proven. Do you feel respected? Powerful? Do you think you, a mere descendent, can surpass what your ancestors have built over centuries in a single day? Where is the respect for the achievements of your own family? Do they have a sturdy foundation, or a reputation built of paper? If you know the answer in your own heart, take your team and leave. Do not win the battle but lose the war, Raja Jagar.”
She invoked the power of The Full Name, hoping it would have some effect on the teenager. If this world had middle names and if she knew his, she would have gone for the power of The Three.
“Lose the battle and win the war…”
She cringed at the faux wisdom she was spewing, but it seemed this sort of cringe got through a teenager high on adrenaline, pride, and bombastic magic powers.
There was silence, for a while (if not for the yells of pain, screeches of dying monsters, and the uncomfortably close thumping of lurker feet.)
“…Let’s go, we retreat,” he said finally, voice quiet.
No one heard but Nara.
Ah, fuck. Better just commit.
“Louder Raja!” she shouted, channeling Vallis. “Where’s your resolve? Commit to the eventual victory!”
“Retreat!” He hollered right back. “We’re all retreating! Hurry!!” He screamed his frustration at the top of his lungs.
They scrambled through the forest, relying on the flame user to guide them over roots and undergrowth. Nara occasionally deflected a web spindle with the swing of her staff. At this rate, she’d be able to make cotton candy with it.
They made it in time, the lurkers still behind them. The four staggered out of the forest, worse for wear: Armor was singed and bloodied, stray webs hanging. They were haunted house actors, ghoulish and ragged, except draped in real spider webs and genuine red blood.
Nara sighed, throwing her head over the seat of the skimmer, ready to retire. The other four were first receiving some healing and cleansing from the timid Kiris, who despite her timidity was ready and able to heal even the worst characters of the group. Raja and his group kept blessedly quiet with their eyes down, knowing some modicum of shame, unable to look at the rest of the group who disliked them. They could have been at an inn and resting already, but the fumbling four decided they needed to drop the bowling ball on their own damn feet.
“Why are you relaxing?” Mona said, staring at her with an unpleasant smile. A knowing dread crawled up Nara’s spine.
“Haven’t I already done what you’ve asked of me?”
“I said to handle what you can,” she gestured with her thumb to the forest, “There’s still monsters that need handling.”
Nara stared blankly at the forest, then back to Mona with a pleading frown.
Mona maintained her mirthless smile. “You’re smart, Nara. I know you know what I mean.”
“Ahhh, shit. I really went and made some more work for myself, didn’t I.”
“Adventure work never ends, Nara Edea. This is just the examination. Are you tired of it already?”
Nara very strongly suspected the answer to that question better be ‘No’. Thanatos barked, tail wagging like Nara had said the forbidden w-a-l-k word.
“He’s not, evidently.”
Nara hauled herself to her feet, sighing like someone working overtime after a 10-hour shift. Oh right, it had been 10 hours already.
“Okay, buddy, alright. Let’s hunt.”
*****
Nara laid at the bottom of the skimmer, replacing Nolan who had already healed. She wasn’t physically exhausted (her abilities made sure of that), but mentally exhausted. An introvert like her had squeezed out every last ounce of phony wisdom to convince a teenager not to make stupid choices brought about by his upbringing, and she was squeezed dry of emotional energy.
“Oof. Little dude, I’m not your chair.”
Caspian had jumped on her chest with a thud, winding her despite her lack of lungs. He settled there like a cat, even kneading through her clothing with claws that pricked her skin. The Simurgh did seem a cross between wolf, cat, and bird.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute because your claws hurt,” she told Caspian, who let out a sound between a wolf’s growl and a cat’s purr. “Are you getting revenge since I ended your playdate with Thanatos before you were ready?”
Sen was smiling for some unknown reason, matching Vallis’ bright grin.
“You youngsters have way too much energy for me,” she said groaning and turning her face to the side to face away from their blinding smirks. If she kept staring, she might show emotion on her own face. What a disaster that’d be, showing emotion!
Her eyes met Malik’s, whose gaze was equally uncomfortable for some unknown reason. She wasn’t friends with him, like the other two. With nowhere left to look, she looked straight up. The flat metal roof of the skimmer was very beautiful today. It wouldn’t make fun of her.
“Now now,” Vallis said. “Don’t be like that.”
“I think you’re the winner of the bet,” Sen said. “It’s a shame, but I’ve learned a lot about you either way. I’d like to learn the answer to my question some other time.”
“It’s not some big secret,” Nara decided. “I’ll tell you now. I’m an outworlder. I’m studying astral magic to see if I can find a way to cross back and forth.”
“Oh,” Sen said, “I see.”
“See what?”
“You’re so out of energy you’ve lost the motivation to continue our bet. I’ll note that down.” He removed a pen and notebook from his dimensional bag.
“’Weak to questioning when tired’—Hey. Don’t write that down.”
“I’m joking,” he said, his expression perfectly flat.
“Goddammit.” Didn’t he already finish writing?
“And blasphemous,” he said, starting another line in his notebook.
“I legitimately can’t tell if you’re joking or not anymore. Put that pen away.”
“If I put this pen away,” he said innocently, twirling the pen, “Will you join my team?”
“I definitely won’t if you don’t,” she threatened.
He coolly smiled and slipped his pen and notebook away. She kept a wary eye on his dimension bag.
Nara wondered what she had done with her life to get here, laying on the floor of a floating vehicle, taking a magic exam to become a professional monster hunter, and threatening a teenager over note keeping on her personality traits.
(Please, this wasn’t Assassination Classroom.)
*****
The last few days, she and other examinees were just spectators. She, Sen, Vallis, Gento, and Malik were spectators because they most likely passed. Mona no longer called on them to participate, so they sat back and observed.
She figured Sen, even passively, was still learning, pulling what lessons Mona taught others into his own wisdom. Nara didn’t realize, but she had started emulating him. She no longer played card games, but either listened to Mona’s wisdom or meditated. She referenced her compendium for each monster that showed up within the contracts, noting how battles could change in new terrain challenges. An engagement in the forest was very different from a fight in an open field.
Mona, over the course of the exam, described the duties and role of adventurers. Nara was a jaded ex-office worker, but even she couldn’t help but feel inspired. If she was having an early mid-life crisis in her twenties, she may as well do it right.
The other group of people no longer called on to participate was the group of five. They had failed—there was no doubt. The smart thing to do now was sit and listen, which most did with surprising studiousness. They had different motivations, and they wanted to prove themselves. Despite their arrogance and their familial shackles (rich or poor), they were bright-eyed youthful essence users. One failure wasn’t enough to squash their will. Bad personality wasn’t grounds to deny Adventure Society certification either, if you didn’t commit crime or defraud the society. By the time an adventurer was silver rank and they mattered, the Adventure Society would just keep the unpleasant ones away from sensitive contracts and let them kill monsters where attitude didn’t matter if the job got done.
Nolan was among the ones still testing. He had made a poor showing of himself at first, then spent an entire day in recovery. Mona had him pick his contracts or refuse the ones she intentionally suggested that were ill-suited for him: That was his test. As the days had progressed, it had become harder and harder to determine which one he needed to refuse as her requests straddled the line. The next thing he learned was to retreat from the ones he misjudged.
“Contracts are unreliable,” Mona said, “This is an unavoidable aspect of our work. Most of our perliminary reports come from normal people. They have basic knowledge of monsters, but not enough to tell a shadow weaver from a blood weaver when they’re scared and running for safety. They can guess numbers, but it will rarely be accurate. The contract is just a piece of the puzzle. You will never have full information. If the contract is too difficult as written, it will be worse. Pass on those. There is no shame in running. Live another day and save more lives.”
She had learned her own fair share of lessons. She needed to be more prepared. Equipment existed to supplement abilities. Potions and salves were basic and obvious. Night vision goggles and a supplemental weapon were less obvious. Nara hadn’t even considered them with all the new abilities she had; she had developed her own little streak of arrogance too.
Mona didn’t expect her to have these things—she didn’t have the money for them yet. Mona had correctly identified the lessons Nara needed to learn. Nara had demonstrated she was resourceful, but digging and filling holes wasn’t practical. She had ample abilities to escape, but her instantaneous destructive power was low. When someone was being attacked by a monster, her teleportation wouldn’t help those in danger.
The final would-be adventurer Nara was curious about was the shy elf girl, Kiris. She had similarly struggled, even more than Nolan. So much so that Nara wondered if she was cut out for the adventurer life, and she should instead seek the core-user path at the church of the Healer, or as an unaffiliated healer.
She got through it, somehow. Water bullets pierced enemies and she drowned them in place with floating water spheres. Her familiar was support oriented, and not a roided up tank.
In small groups she was competent, accurately healing and supporting as the situation required. Water balls disrupted a flanking monster, healing wind passively regenerated health, and the star of her kit, a fish familiar with multiple bodies that served as a long-distance radio.
She wasn’t flashy, but it was clear she knew what she was doing, despite her timidity. Even when her allies failed to protect her, she vanished into a puddle of water and reappeared a safe but helpful distance away, demonstrating her situational awareness. She was almost a little too easily scared off, but that was better than the alternative, and these were temporary teammates who didn’t have her trust. Her long-range healing afforded her leniency.
“She’s good too,” said Vallis. “Timid but keeps her calm in battle. You don’t have a healer yet right, Sen?”
“I do not,” he confirmed.
“Are you going to recruit her?”
“I will not.”
Vallis sighed and shook her head, “I’ll never understand on what basis you recruit others.”
“You don’t want to know my method,” said Sen with a hint of self-deprecation. “My last team didn’t work well.”
“Ah, that group? You just had too many leaders in one bunch. That’s not exactly right…too many rulers who couldn’t pass the scepter when it wasn’t their turn to stand on top. Too much youthful vigor. Too much arrogance. Too many expectations. All pull and no give.”
“Ah, is that why you want me to join your team?” Nara said, “I don’t have the energy to argue? A follower not a leader?”
“You have the energy to keep refusing,” Sen pointed out. “Unless that has changed.”
“I’m not giving that up quite yet.”