Balthazar sighs in relief, letting his head hit the ground as he closes his eyes.
I walk over to Kara and help her up as the spores have already lost their effect, steadying her as we stagger over to Balthazar. We’ve done it.
“Balthazar, are you alright?” I ask as we kneel down next to him. Runes formed out of his blood still cover the majority of the room but they’ve lost their lustre and shape, slowly smearing and flowing down the walls.
He chuckles mirthlessly and spits out another mouthful of blood before answering “I don’t think so, this might be it for me.”
“Do you have potions or something with you to cure the wound?” I ask, pressing my hands on the wound to try and stop the bleeding. The cavern is still shrouded in darkness, shadows and the mist of his spell desperately clinging to the area.
He shakes his head and looks up at us. “Unless you can work miracles, I will probably bleed out. I’ve lived a long life but I knew it would end like this,” he says, chuckles, and then continues “Not with you two here but it’s a pleasant twist on my death. I never did like living alone but when Eve died…”
“How can you be this calm?” Kara asks but I already know the answer. He already accepted his death.
“Thank you for spending my last moments with me,” he says, ignoring her question. “I am glad I was able to pass my Runecraft on before passing away, please make sure to spread it further and take care of Jimothy bobbing.”
“Of course,” I readily agree. A Rock doesn’t need much effort to take care of and I am already planning to take advantage of the runes either way.
He smiles and looks at Kara. “Please make sure he learns how to relax and take a joke. I might have been going crazy but Eve had been adamant that I got a rhythm to my day and never lost my humour. He should do the same or he’ll end up worse than me.”
“I will,” she promises him. “He didn’t even want to go to a bathhouse before I made him or take two days off. Do you want to tell us about Eve?”
He doesn’t answer but stares up at the ceiling with wide eyes.
[Oblivion: A percentage of the target's highest stat (Magic Power) has been added to yours. +5 MP]
He’s dead and my amulet must have snatched his soul. I don’t know how to feel about that, because I don’t know what happens with the soul after I reap them but it might be worth asking Stan about.
[Stan: A sliver of their soul gets kept to fuel you, they do not retain consciousness but you might be able to take bigger slivers when your power grows to a certain degree.]
We take a moment of silence as I digest that information. I was keeping a bunch of soul pieces to get stronger but at least they weren’t sentient.
The moment passes and I start rifling through his pockets. He doesn’t need it after all and he is bound to have something useful, being this high level.
He doesn’t have much on him, only a small booklet filled to the brim with notes on his research and his canteen with densely inscribed runes. I take both of them but leave the rest. The booklet alone is probably worth a small fortune.
I get our directions from Vona and we start to make our way back, avoiding the huge cloud of Gas that has been slowly expanding. It takes some time to find new ways around but we manage to get into the mine and quickly follow the signs from there.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
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“Well done,” Garry says, reaching into the desk drawer and pulling out a thick envelope. “Here you go, this is my part of the agreement done. I am sorry I didn’t take you seriously in the beginning.”
I rip open the letter and quickly read over it.
Death.
We’ve made a deal and I will deliver on it but I want you to do something before engaging in a battle you will likely lose. I know you’ve met Siegfried before and that he told you about the other Chosen but you will most likely need to pass by Brightgate either way, so I inquire you to talk with him and he will explain everything to you as well as give you a token of my gratitude.
The man you seek has to be Wilhelm Starford, the Leader of Tharon, and you’ll most likely find him at his headquarters in Klon. He supposedly only has one Class, a variation of Slaver but it is well over level 60.
Watch out for any deal he might be willing to strike and expect him to swindle you in whatever you do.
I fold it and store it in my pocket before nodding at Kara. “That means we are done here unless there is something you want to do here in Jacksonville.”
“I don’t want to burst your bubble but you have something to do here,” Kara says. “You still have to meet someone in town.”
“Oh yeah, someone wanted to meet me,” I said, remembering the conversation with Natalie. I still haven’t figured out who it is but I assume they want vengeance for someone I killed so I should definitely take my revolvers with me.
“Thank you, Garry, don’t take it personally when I say that I hope we don’t meet again,” I tell him and we take our leave to go to The Open Dress.
Kara goes to the Inn and ‘celebrates’ our victory, whatever she plans to do, while I go to meet whoever wants to meet me.
I enter through the front door of The Open Dress and approach the receptionist. She is the same receptionist as last time with her short brown hair in a ponytail.
A customer is leaning against the counter with a glass bottle in his hand and a flush on his face. He is beyond tipsy, slurring his words and struggling to stay standing while he is badgering her with inane conversation, trying to get a discount.
“Hello, I was told someone wants to meet me,” I said, pushing past the drunkard. Being a receptionist must be difficult enough in a brothel, a drunkard trying to haggle with you is just unnecessary.
“Oi,” he slurs, accussingly pointing his bottle at me, “We were having a talk.”
“I know but she can’t give you a discount, only Natalie can,” I tell him and turn back to the receptionist.
Drunkard doesn’t like that and grabs my shoulder, turning me back around to him. “Wait your turn!”
I already have my revolver pulled when I face him and point it right at his stomach. “I’d recommend you leave, Natalie doesn’t like people bringing their own drinks or blood spilt on her carpet.”
“I don’t think she appreciates weapons in here either,” he replies, glaring at me.
“She does make some exceptions,” the receptionist slyly added, shifting away from him. “So if you’d be so kind as to leave.”
He grumbles something else but leaves. A old song about a sheriff and his mistress starts to fill the room as he leaves and he hums along badly.
“Thank you for that,” she says, letting out a sigh.
“No problem,” I say. “ I was told to meet someone here, do you know anything about it?” I ask as I holster my revolver.
“Yeah, I wanted to talk with you but it’s not important, it resolved itself.”
“Oh, sorry”
“It’s fine, you were busy,” she reassures me, “I just had a problem with a few bandits but they moved on, it’s alright.”
I wait a few seconds as she fidgets and wait for something else but when it gets clear enough that she is finished I continue“If you need any other help, just ask for me next time I come around, my prices really aren’t that high I think.”
“Yeah, I will.”
We say our farewells and I retreat to the Inn to pour over my newly acquired notes.