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Chapter 12: Enter the Tridecagon

Entombed in darkness, Hunter’s heart hammered in his chest as his eyes adjusted. Slowly, glowing dots appeared, trailing out before him. Their glow brightened, revealing a long winding corridor, the stone walls on either side illuminated by spirit lamps that had seen better days. Years? Centuries? No, make that eons!

He took a calming breath, the air a strange mixture of staleness and moisture, like he had somehow gotten his head lodged under a wrestler's sweaty armpit.

The roadmap of his mind was at a crossroads, overflowing with questions, thoughts, and ideas crashing into one another.

“So, I made it into the tower,” Hunter whispered to himself, his voice strangely echoing in the vast corridor. “Now what? Where’s Claude? Where do I go?” His mind was a battleground.Yet, physically, he felt amazing.

His body buzzed with newfound energy.

Even though he didn't know what the pill was, he felt a surge of gratitude towards the gruff stranger with the even stranger yellow eyeglasses. It chased away the sensations of near drowning—his lungs free of the burn from salty spray and limbs no longer melting like hot wax. The whole experience left him a little disoriented, but hey, he could handle it. Well...as long as nothing jumped out from the shadows and decided to make a snack out of him.

Hunter braced himself, his senses on high alert, scanning for any signs of danger amidst the rhythmic plink, plink, plop of water droplets hitting the stone floor.

The slick walls glistened with moisture and questionable slime molds, some rippling as Hunter examined them closer. He stepped back, avoiding the pop of a slime bubble. Surprised by his own quick reflexes, Hunter thought it wise to avoid becoming too friendly with the questionable slime.

He punched the air, his reflexes better than ever before.

Nice! His smile widened at his impressive newfound agility.

If only that stranger hadn’t been in such a rush, Hunter had so many questions to ask him.

For some reason, the stranger wanted to keep contact with Hunter to a minimum. Where was he from, and would he see him again? The pill he gave Hunter was better than any of the healing potions and natural remedies he’d ever made. Granted, his supplies were limited to what he could forage on Death Island.

While he didn’t have access to healing pills or cultivation enhancers on Death Island, he knew all about them. His parents had commissioned the master alchemist from the Hellenos Alchemy Guild to make supplies. They were extremely expensive, but his parents insisted that rations be made available for all those who needed them in their service.

If a city guard was injured in the line of duty, healing tokens were available for use in the alchemy guild’s apothecary.

Hunter shivered as he cooled down in the damp, moist air.

He’d barely made it into the tower by the skin of his teeth. If the stranger hadn’t intervened… He shivered again.

He saved my life, Hunter mused, his gratitude mixed with curiosity. "I’m dying to know who he was." He scratched his jaw, recalling someone who seemed to know who the stranger was.

"Claude!"

No answer.

A strange hum filled the air, urging him onwards.

Cocking his ear to one side, it almost sounded like the walls were whispering, guiding him forward. Something told him he needed to move, even if he didn’t know the location of the guild room.

Hunter took a cautious step forward, testing the ground beneath his feet.

It felt soft and springy in places and hard and slippery in others. A few steps later, he realized the ground was a patchwork of stonework and wild moss that faintly glowed with a purple haze when he stepped on it.

Was it a spore haze?

The last thing he needed was to catch some nasty, wet-lung disease.

Hunter deftly avoided the moss, each step taken with the precision of a tightrope walker. Drips from the dark ceiling splashed onto the ground, leaving tar-black puddles. Hunter avoided those too, his senses tuned to every detail of the eerie environment.

Cracks snaked along the walls, crumbling in places, gaping holes in others, strange ominous glows inviting mushrooms to take residence, their domed caps the size of his fist.

Hunter kicked a loose stone, sending it rolling with a resounding thud.

"Gods, Claude wasn't joking when he said this place needed work. It looks worse on the inside than it did on the outside."

His mouth fell open in surprise as he glanced down to where the stone he had kicked had come to rest. There was a goddamn trapdoor on the ground, covered in chains. Words were scorched into the wood.

Hunter read them aloud, “Keep out!!!”

He raised an eyebrow at the sign. Then swiftly offered it a martial salute before carefully skirting the edge of the trapdoor, as though it might bite him. Suddenly, the trapdoor shook on its hinges, the chains rattling like old bones.

Hunter kept his cool but decided speed might be of the essence now. He quickened his pace and didn’t look back.

The corridor continued, twisting and winding endlessly.

For all he knew, Claude could be testing him in some tower dungeon gauntlet. Along the walls, more warning signs greeted him. One read, “Tower under construction, mind your step.” Another, bizarrely, stated, “Beware of Ducks.”

Hunter continued on in search of the guild room. A dozen steps later he came across a wooden door on his right. It was cracked and splintered, much like his patience.

"Hey Claude, you said this place oozes potential, you were right about the first part," Hunter muttered, eyeing the sign skeptically. He tried to read it, but the words were obscured by slime mold.

When no answer came from Claude, Hunter looked along the endless corridor and then back at the door. What was on the other side, the guild room? If not, was he supposed to enter or keep wandering aimlessly until he found the damn room? He didn’t know, but reading the sign might provide some answers.

Hunter took a linen cloth from his inventory and wiped the mold away, fully prepared to stow it afterward. To his surprise, the mold absorbed into the cloth, which promptly disintegrated in his hands. Hunter felt his fingertips burn and quickly reached for a waterskin in his inventory, washing away the sensation.

The burning eased but didn’t completely disappear.

Hunter frowned.

The sign didn’t give Hunter the answer he’d hoped for. “Bronze rank duck warning. The Muscovy ducks have claimed the tower basement as their own. Please proceed with caution. PPE and First Aid kits are available on all floors. In case of emergency, break glass. NOTE: 1 x uncommon tier hammer required.”

Hunter chewed his lip, his mind spinning with possibilities, none of them good. "I think I'll give this door a miss for now," he said aloud to no one in particular. He'd return when he wasn’t barefoot and half-naked. Plus, he definitely needed to ask Claude what a bronze rank duck was when he saw him next.

Hunter continued on, passing several more doors, all with warning signs. He was beginning to lose track of time, starting to question whether his decision to enter the tower on the whim of a god was such a good idea.

A faint glow appeared further along the corridor on his left.

As he drew closer, he realized it was light seeping through the slats of a wooden door. The sign read "Guild Room," without the accompaniment of any warning signs this time. It didn’t mean he should let his guard down but curiosity won over caution. He stepped close enough to touch the door and immediately recoiled. In his eagerness to open the door, he’d stepped one foot into a puddle.

Something cold slithered around his big toe. Hunter jumped back, his knee jerking up to his chest like a marionette on strings. His big toe was covered by a pulsating black blob.

“Shit Styx! What the hell is that?” Hunter yelled, horrified. He made a grab for it, and the little bastard’s tar-black tail whipped out at him, hissing like a scorned cat.

Hunter pinched the wriggling horror between his thumb and forefinger, tearing it away from his throbbing toe. The creature clamped on, but it wasn’t strong enough to resist Hunter’s strong grip.

Releasing its hold, the creature writhed and thrashed, its tiny white teeth gleaming in the dim light, outlining a grotesque sucker mouth. It lunged at Hunter’s thumb, and he instinctively dropped it.

It fell back into the puddle with a loud plop.

As adrenaline fled, Hunter inspected his toe, expecting the worst. Miraculously, it was intact but raw, and covered in yellow blisters. He gingerly placed his foot on the ground, heel first, avoiding the puddle. With a cautious hand, he pushed open the door. Swinging wide, it groaned open as if there was no cure for what ailed it.

Is the tower alive?

Hunter pushed that curious thought away as soon as he spotted Claude in the guild room. Relief flooded him, dissipating the tension that had gripped him moments ago. But Claude's smile fell when his gaze dropped to Hunter's injured toe.

"Didn't you see the sign about the leeches?" Claude asked, surprised. "Nasty little beggars. They feed off any part of the body, but the ones here seem to have a fetish for feet.”

In a blur, he was by Hunter's side, pointing dramatically at his heel.

Hunter looked down. There, he saw a trail of black blobs shriveling up like overcooked sausages left out in the sun for too long.

"I'm thrilled you didn't hesitate to enter the guild room," Claude continued. "Otherwise, you might have found yourself in a leech foot fetish feeding frenzy of epic proportions. It only takes one leech to alert the others, and those puddles? Deeper than they look, thanks to extra-spatial fractures in the tower's structures. Avoid them like the plague."

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Hunter's confusion must have been obvious to Claude.

"If you're lucky—and, mind you, you don't strike me as the luckiest sort—you might stumble into one of those puddles, and it'll only come up to your knees. Or perhaps your neck, if fate isn't feeling charitable. Not so lucky, and you'll plunge into one that's so vast it's like a pocket world, except it's completely submerged. And given your apparent affinity for falling into large bodies of water, consider this a fair warning."

"Duly noted," Hunter replied, eyeing his toes with newfound respect. "Watch the puddles. Got it. By the way, any chance you have spare boots lying around?"

Claude grinned. "That was going to be my first recommendation. Get yourself some boots. Welcome to the rustic charm of tower life, my friend. But fear not, my strapping young lad. You're not one to shy away from hard work, are you? I'm sure you'll want to put your own stamp on this place, get rid of the nuisances that lower the tone of this magnificent tower and make it a home away from home."

Get rid of the nuisances?

"You sound like Big Nic," Hunter quipped with a wry grin, "He didn't like rats in and around the cemetery. But they kept the place free of copperhead millipedes, and I got used to having them around. If they don't harm me, I won't harm them."

Claude chuckled. "Ah, the noble sentiment of coexisting with nature. All fine and dandy when you're talking about natural beasts and the occasional pesky dire creature with a tainted aether core. But you see, my dear Hunter, due to mana gas leaks inside this tower, all kinds of beasts have a knack for turning monstrous. The longer they're left unchecked, the bigger the problem and the messier the cleanup."

Hunter shook his head, his skepticism evident. "Not to sound ungrateful, but how come you've let this tower get into such a state?"

Claude's lips pressed together, his eyes hardening like ancient stones. "Look at me.” He raised his chin and spread his arms wide. “Do I seem like the kind of god who'd just let a tower fall into rack and ruin to you? I salvaged this tower as a favor to a divine friend; he's a bit of a hoarder, you see, and he'd neglected this little gem for far too long."

Hunter couldn't shake the feeling that Claude wasn't being entirely truthful, but lacking proof, he decided to focus on more immediate concerns. Like finding out more about the guild room.

"What happened to those leeches that wormed their way in here?"

Claude's eyes lit up with an almost maniacal glee. "Oh, those little buggers? They fell afoul of the guild room's defense safety mechanism. Any creature, be it natural or tower-spawned, can't enter a guild room with ill intent. They latched onto your heel, and their buddies followed the scent of feet and blood, eager to feast on you. But the guild room? It turned them into withered husks, just like salt on slugs."

Hunter couldn't help but wonder if his feet really had an aroma worth pursuing. He picked up one of the unfortunate leeches.

Examining the shriveled husk in his hand, Hunter marveled at how well they'd adapted to their puddle-dwelling lifestyle. He couldn't help but speculate on the range of creatures these parasites might have fed on. As dangerous as they seemed, the notion of exterminating them all left a sour taste in his mouth.

After all, every critter had its role to play.

He just needed to figure out how to harness or manage these little guys, tame them, or perhaps farm them, just as he had done with the rats. Given the hostile environment the guild room presented to dangerous beasts, he'd probably have to find a cozy spot in the basement to raise his leech farm.s

Hunter motioned to the guild room door. “I noticed there’s plenty of warning signs along the corridor outside. Why is there a warning sign about Muscovy ducks in the basement and how the hell did they get in there?”

“They are a tower creation gone a little awry since I summoned this magnificent structure to this location. Not a concern for you, as the basement is off limits until you pass the Refiner Gate.”

The tower can create ducks, but can’t rid itself of leeches.

He wanted to know more, but he had a pressing question that lingered. “Refiner Gate?”

Claude’s expression hardened. “That is all I have to say on the matter. I’d rather focus on you.”

Hunter wiped sweat from his brow.

The air seemed hotter and drier in the guild room. Or maybe it was just him? His eyes scanned the stone walls, appearing like blank canvases, waiting for a story to be written upon them.

Claude's expression shifted to concern, and he handed Hunter a silver cloth. "Bind your injured toe with that Starlight healing cloth. Otherwise, those yellow blisters will fester and spread like the pox. You're lucky that stranger gave you that pill; its energy is still coursing through you."

Hunter's eyes widened with newfound worry. "Wait, what do you mean—"

His words choked under the heavy pressure he felt, beads of sweat forming on his brow as Claude swept his aura.

"Oh, don’t worry," Claude reassured him with a twisted smile, "even without that pill, the fact that the leech chowed down on your toe, infecting it with yellow pox, wouldn’t kill you. But the pain might make you wish you were dead..." He let his words hang in the air like a noose.

Taking the silver cloth, Hunter bound his throbbing toe, his hands trembling with unease. He needed answers.

"Tell me more about that stranger." Hunter pressed on, a sense of urgency creeping over him. "I need to—"

But before he could finish, a searing pain sliced through him like a blade, bringing him to his knees. He gasped, more beads of sweat forming on his brow, and finally uttered the words that had haunted his thoughts.

"Gah! Claude, I’m dying here…"

Hunter winced, his eyes shutting tightly, and he fell to his knees.

“Don’t worry about that, you're not dying. Your death-like experience is perfectly natural and quite common for first breakthroughs.”

“What?”

“Just breathe,” were Claude’s last words, the final thing he heard before everything muffled around him.

Boiling sweat oozed out of his pores. Gripping his aching abdomen, he couldn’t ease the sensation, feeling as though his Pre-Refiner core were a pustule about to burst. He inhaled a sharp breath, the tightening sensation carrying from his core, extending to his chest, and outward to his limbs.

Recalling his father's cultivation practice, he focused on his breath, imagining the warmth of the sun radiating from his core to the tips of his toes and fingertips. With every breath, he envisioned the cool ocean breeze washing over the heat in his body.

Time passed in a raging storm of agony. He continued his cultivation practice, noticing a slight ease with every breath. Every sensation snapped back like a rubber band, and his mind cleared. Hunter took a deep breath, wiping the residue from his eyes with his tunic, and opened them to find Claude smiling down on him.

“Well done! You preserved your parents’ cultivation legacy by practicing their breathing techniques daily. Your childhood observations have paid off. I believe success is where preparation and opportunity meet. That wasn't a healing pill you were given by the Portalier; in fact, it was a cultivation enhancer that helped you break through.”

“Be prepared.” Hunter straightened his posture.

Hunter's exhaustion ebbed, a mere shadow of what it had been when treading the turbulent seas. “I don't understand. If I had my awakened affinity already, all I needed was a cultivation enhancer to break through?”

“If only it were that easy.” Claude smirked, adjusting his silk robes. “Your years of gravedigging in the cemetery...and the fact that Pheres slapped you around, you were thrown off a flying horse, plunged into shark-infested seas, and swam for your life—all of these challenges pushed your body and primed your core for breakthrough. Once you ingested that cultivation pill, all of that combined led you into the refinement of your chi core.”

Hunter stood with newfound energy, wiping the gunk from his hands on his tunic. “So now I can cultivate chi.”

Claude nodded. “Congratulations, with only your Earth affinity awakened, you’ve taken your first step to becoming an immortal cultivator. Now, you have one more affinity to awaken.”

“I know my father had Earth affinity, but you mentioned another one? Mother had Wind. Dual affinities aren't common.”

“You don't believe me? I'll show it to you in writing. If you ever want to see it for yourself, all you have to say is status.”

Hunter’s eyes widened as a scroll unfurled in front of him.

Hunter's Cultivation Stats [https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64792192cebc5b13fea7f600/eef99314-0b82-408b-8132-3a8fed9dcd34/Scroll+back+Rank+Stats.png?format=1000w]

“I'm a Refiner!” A grin spread across Hunter's face. "What's this Holly and Horse Path? Is that what you're talking about—the new system?”

“Exactly.” Claude stepped toward the tower wall, raising a brow as a leech wiggled its way through the crack before withering away. Vibrations coursed through the tower floor and walls. With a heavy clang, an iron gate slammed into position along the wall as if coming from an unseen pocket world. Claude’s expression remained unfazed. “Once you begin your training and enter the Refiner Gate, you can learn more about your stats and the chi cultivation path.”

Hunter wanted a closer look at this gate, but the scroll followed his gaze, hanging in the upper corner of his vision. His nose crinkled. “Close status.”

The scroll rolled to a close and disappeared. Hunter crossed his arms. “Why can't you tell me now?”

“You should really get that fixed.” Claude pointed a thumb at the crack in the wall. “My time is limited. Again, the tower will guide you through everything. In fact, you should know that if you want to renovate this place like I am strongly suggesting, the tower assistant will advance as well.”

“I'm happy with the way it looks. It's better than Death Island.”

Claude raised a brow. “There's no pressure in the short term, but you do have to get this tower to a Foundation rank before another initiate can enter. Not only do you have to increase your chi cultivation rank before you can survive the space-time era portal jump, but the tower needs to rank up as well to serve the needs of another occupant.”

“This feels more and more like I'm going to be the caretaker of this building after all. Mana gas leaks, beast infestations, and I'm not sure what else lurks behind these walls.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic.” Claude gestured with his hand. “One thing at a time. But don't worry; the tower assistant is here to guide you in my absence, which will be most of the time given my other demands in the Divine Realm.”

Hunter rubbed his chin but then stopped as the breakthrough tar gathered on his fingertips. He didn't think the other gods knew what was really happening in Delphare with his pact and the tower, but he had enough problems to deal with than going down that rabbit hole.

“Do I just ask the tower assistant where the bathhouse is located?”

“Hmmm, about that too.” Claude paused; a scroll unfurled in front of them with text line by line:

Tridecagon Bathhouse Water Supply [https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64792192cebc5b13fea7f600/7c790514-6f26-4ce4-86e3-fa6f9c1c0611/Scroll+back+Tower+Reno+Bathhouse.png?format=1000w]

“Who knows what this tower has been through!” Claude tapped his staff on the stone. “I'd recommend your local city bathhouse for now.”

Another line appeared on the scroll:

Tridecagon Bath Reno Items Request [https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64792192cebc5b13fea7f600/8b999305-71bc-4369-b62b-5ee3845168cc/Scroll+back+Tower+Reno+Bathhouse+pt+Item+request.png?format=1000w]

Hunter groaned. “Close status.” The tower’s scroll disappeared. “Did the tower hear you?”

Claude adjusted his silk robes. “Yes, you can interact with the tower assistant, like you would any mortal. Speak or engage with the tower and it will respond through your vision scroll. If you ever see a flicker in your vision, open your scroll. There, you’ll find a new notification or message waiting for you.”

A flicker appeared in the corner of his eye, he opened his scroll to find a message waiting.

Tower Invite [https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/64792192cebc5b13fea7f600/024fcd3d-3c9a-4e8b-9b64-7282f5495705/Scroll+back++tower+invite.png?format=1000w]

Hunter nodded. “Yes, I accept the invitation. Can I call you Tower?”

A line appeared on his vision scroll:

Tower: Pleased to meet you, first initiate.

“See there; the tower has already taken the initiative to ensure that you’re formally acquainted. But whatever you do, don't draw unwanted attention to yourself, especially when you return to the tower.”

“Before I entered the tower, there was a glowing archway that appeared when I touched the wall. Will that still be there when I return from the city bathhouse? Or do I need to summon the arch to get back inside?”

Claude yawned. “The tower reads your aura; each energy signature is unique and will only open when you touch its surface.”

Hunter glanced back at the iron gate. He’d waited years to finally be able to cultivate his chi core and now all of that potential had to be behind there. “I can skip the bathhouse for now and begin at the Refiner Gate then.”

Shaking his head, Claude pointed his staff toward the guild’s small space. “It’s best to fully restore before facing the dangers inside the Refiner GGate. Freshen up, rest, and use the guild room to your liking.” He paused, glancing around the bare counters and opened drawers. “It’s a little understocked thanks to the klepto ogres.”

Hunter raised a brow. “You don’t have to tell me. I need to stock everything in this guild, even a plate and fork.”

Claude shrugged. “They even took the napkins.”

“What the hell do they need them for?” He rubbed his arm, the sticky tar pilling into clumps across his hand. “I’ll come back once I’m finished cleaning this tar at the bathhouse then.”

“I won’t be here when you return, but you’ll be in good hands with the tower.”