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World: MSS - Loading...
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“-and you can be the support and your barbarian friend can be the top laner! Of course, I'm the mid lane. We can recruit an archer who can be the ADC! With my apprentice playing the mage-type jungler we’re the perfect team!”
Clover ignored Arione's nonsense. For a while now, he'd been talking nonstop calling her the 'perfect support' that he'd been looking for.
Arione and Clover were on the top of a rooftop, an easy feat with the mage's spells. They looked at the towering temple in the center of the city, countless windows alight with candleflame beneath the moon’s gaze. The two had spent the entire day tracking the whereabouts of their friends, and in the end both Scarlet’s mana signature and all the information they gathered led them to the temple.
Supposedly, an Auction was supposed to happen after midnight.
Getting to this point had been no easy feat. Arione had to dodge soldiers belonging to the Great Houses at every corner while avoiding any orcs who might recognize Clover. But Arione doubted a random orc would recognize the pink-haired beauty. He had managed to get her fresh clothes and get the manacle off of her neck. She looked no different than a member of the various parties who were attending this event.
“Also, you keep leaving out Lock.”
“Hmm yeah. We’ll have to see about him.” Arione answered honestly.
Arione had gotten a few details and stories about Clover’s friends from her.
From what he could gather, the elf named L’teya was your typical barbarian from the Delirious Jungle. Straightforward with a sense of justice to rival that of the misguided zealots of the Church. Judging people based only on their character and 'warrior's will' as typical of someone from her tribe. He felt that he could get along with her, albeit he'd have to put her in her place. She'd only listen to reason after he showed their gap in superiority.
But this Lock character on the other hand… Well, the name ‘Slaveborn’ was reason enough to suspect him of being a [Player].
What’re the chances that someone who became a Slave had a name Slaveborn? That was just lazy naming sense in Arione’s opinion and screamed on the spot improv.
But he kept his thoughts to himself. He didn’t want to upset Clover. The grade-2 mage could tell immediately that something was different about her and if he wasn’t mistaken, she was probably a very special type of priestess. Either belonging to a rare sect with a few members or the first of her kind. He wanted to watch over her, help her achieve her potential and perhaps one day, earn her full trust to get her to join him of her own will.
But for now, their Mana Vow kept the two tethered and he had every intention of using it to ingratiate himself into her life.
“What’re we waiting for?” Clover folded her arms, shivering. They were high up enough so that the winds had gained a chill and for the beastwoman who had gotten used to the desert heat, it was freezing.
Arione took off his cloak and made a motion to put it around her but the she stepped away. He shrugged.
“You know, I meant nothing by it. Just manners. Gosh, do you think you're so pretty that every guy wants to hit on you at any opportunity? Sheesh.” He rolled his eyes.
“I believe you.” Clover answered dryly. “Well? Are we waiting for a signal from your apprentice?”
“No.” Arione sat down on the rooftop, cross legged. “There’s a problem.”
Clover saw him do a few gestures with one hand and the wind around them abruptly stopped, falling silent. Her hair, which had been flying this way and that, fell to her shoulders in their natural curl. She knew enough about magic to know that it was the mage who had done something, not to mention that she sensed the mana moving in his body long before he cast the spell. She was both astonished and scared of how fast she was changing; but Arione wasn’t someone whom she wanted to reveal that to.
She saw him purely as a business partner... for now. As her parents always said: never show weakness to a business partner. Though that would be moot point considering how much stronger Arione was than her. The social status was too different, Arione a powerful mage and herself, a budding priestess who needed help at everything she did. Yet Arione had made sure that the power dynamic between then never leaned too much in one direction. She appreciated the gesture but kept her gratitude for after he kept up his end of the deal.
“The place is crawling with insects. Er-I mean the Akka Xaluds.” Arione continued. “They’re one of the-”
“Three Great Houses, yes. I know about them.” Clover cut him off from repeating the unnecessary information.
The Akka Xaluds were famous for their torture methods and brutal behavior. Her worry for L’teya and Lock began to grow.
“It’s not just them though. I’m sensing mana signatures that should belong to Jayu State, and even the Zimmskar Kingdom.” He peered at her while mentioning her home country.
If it affected Clover, she didn’t show it. Arione nodded, strangely satisfied.
“I hope that won’t be something that gets in the way of our agreement.” Clover was used to dealing with people, and it showed in the way that she kept on pressuring Arione to hold up his end of the deal.
She didn’t know exactly why, but Clover knew that Arione wanted her in his party. For now, that was her only bargaining chip and she used it ruthlessly, constantly pestering the powerful mage. Right now, the why didn’t matter. Far from annoying the mage, her tactics seemed to delight him.
He took them in stride, beaming right at her.
“It won't. So, do you happen to have a dress handy?”
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I repeated the movement over and over and over again. My only thoughts were that of the sword and its edge. How it would cut, how I should move it if an opponent came at me and... and the best way for me to kill. My heart, where Arrosh placed his hand, burned with heat and it fueled my movements. I wanted to spend this time thinking about L’teya or Clover, about how to best rescue them. But now wasn't the time to spend time lost in my own thoughts.
If I was too weak when the time came, all that planning would be for nothing.
99% of the problems in MSS could be solved by being strong enough.
Clover had briefly mentioned nobility in this world before but I had written it off as it didn’t pertain to my goals back then. But now, it was coming back to bite me in the ass. Lack of information was all around me, and I needed to prepare myself so when I learned something new, I could act on it. The various powers that Arrosh mentioned, they worried me. It wasn't like I could do anything about that right now though. I finished the maneuver, painstakingly slow, and turned my sword the other way.
“Psst... Hey...”
It was Scarlet’s voice.
“I don’t know what you’re doing in there... but it's almost time... I think...”
Really? Was it that late already? Had I just spent the entire day swinging my sword around?
“Understood. You remember the plan?”
“Of course...” The young mage sounded excited. “Here."
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The air in front of me blurred, warping the images and melted away to reveal an elf with curly red hair. His features were smooth and regal, telltale signs of an elf but it was the pointed ears that were really the giveaway. In contrast to his fiery head, his eyes were deep blue. He wore dirty rags that were stained with black sludge same as me.
He put a glowing hand over the door of my cage and I heard a click.
“Done.”
I tested the door, opening it slowly and then closing it shut again.
“Change of plans.” I said.
Even in complete darkness, I saw Scarlet frown.
“I’m going to grab the patrol and interrogate them.” I shook my head. “I know too little. I need more information on what type of situation I'm in.”
I thought the mage would argue but his eyes just widened in what looked like excitement. “You’re going to… fight?”
He looked at me up and down. “You?.. Against those orcs?”
“Yes.” But honestly, I was hoping it would be the glasses wearing elf. "But you don't have to stay. I swear I won't let them find out about you. If anything they'll be focused on me."
Or maybe the orc who punched me in the mouth would come. I'd like that.
“Do… you want me to play support?”
I don’t know why but the way he said that sentence bothered me. Especially how he said ‘play support’ like it was a terminology and not a way of asking if I wanted help. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was talking like we were playing a very specific 10-person game. Either way, it was a kind gesture and it was always helpful to have a mage on my side in battle.
“Hmm… can you silence the area? So no sound escapes?”
He nodded. "But afterwards... I'll be leaving. I held up my end of the deal after all..."
“Then use it at your discretion. And if I don't see you, keep yourself safe.” I stood in the center of my cage again and hid the shortsword behind my back.
He looked at me weird, like that had been a strange thing to say. But I didn’t want to continue being someone who didn’t care about a stranger’s well-being outside of my own immediate needs. I wanted to change. Without giving me a chance to explain, Scarlet’s image blurred and disappeared, leaving me alone again.
It wasn’t a moment too soon, I heard footsteps coming down the staircase.
My heart began to pound with the familiar rhythm accompanying impending violence.
Except this time I wouldn’t be facing monsters, but people.
Yes, they were orcs. Yes, they were my captors. But still there was a part of me that was screaming that doing this was wrong. My mind was brought back to the moment during the Mak’gorah that the orcs had forced upon us. I had been more than willing back then… so what had changed?
“Because I’m going to kill them this time.”
This wouldn’t end with someone having their ear bitten off. The Mak’gorah before had been a farce, our captors had kept watch to make sure that no one would die. But now, I was in a cave underneath the temple in the center of their city, submerged in complete darkness. If I spilled orc blood here, I would have to make sure there would be no survivors. Furthermore, if I got caught after escaping I’d be killed.
But I knew from day one that it'd come to this. I'd either kill the orcs or die like a dog.
I tightened my grip on the sword.
“Hmm? There's an awake one?”
I had been too caught up in my thoughts and hadn’t realized a pair of orcs had arrived in front of me. They exchanged glances then looked back at me. The guards must’ve possessed some kind of darkvision, similar to me and my mind automatically went through the list of Cores that were obtainable in the nearby area which could provide the stat boost. All the while, my heart was pounding so hard I thought it’d beat right out of my chest.
One of them took a step towards the cage.
「Lock Slaveborn casts [Coin Toss] 」
「[Reflex] has been reduced 」
「[Arcane Masochism] cancels [Coin Toss] 」
「[Arcane Masochism] raises [Attack]」
I kicked the cage open and stabbed the orc's throat.
He opened his mouth to scream but no yell came, just blood.
I had underestimated the orc’s vitality because the throat wound wasn’t enough to finish him. He backhanded me across my face with his fist and I almost fell over to the side, withdrawing the blade from his neck. But this wasn’t the same helpless body from the tunnels being pushed around by an orc guard, fresh in this world. This body had a grade-8 and grade-7 boss-class core. The attack wasn't nearly enough to stop me.
So I jerked my arm to the side, taking my sword out of the side of his neck and kicked him in the chest to send him falling. If he wasn't dead, he'd bleed out.
His partner had already drawn his weapon, a mace and shield, and was charging towards me. He was screaming, but again there was no sound. Assured that Scarlet had done his job, I engaged the orc in melee by leaping just out of his range and darting back in with a simple thrust. I had expected the orc to bock with his shield but he was too slow, my sword sank into the meat of his shoulder. I felt the muscles part with ease, my sword sinking in with staccato-like rhythm as it hit bone and cartilage.
Acting quick, I slashed downwards while my blade was still embedded and left a vertical gash on his deltoids. He tried to swing his mace again, but it was practically in slow motion compared to the monsters I’d been fighting so far. I didn’t even use my sword, ducking underneath his swing and I punched him in the jaw as hard as I could. As he fell back, I reached down and scooped up some sludge, throwing it at his face.
He roared but I saw in the darkness that his eyes were shut tight, blinded momentarily.
I sped up and stabbed him once in each kneecap, feeling the odd sensation of bone and cartilage being underneath my blade. He swung his mace again despite being on his knees and I easily knocked the weapon away by cutting his hand off at the wrist. My movements were smooth, I knew that I could flow into a maneuver that could leave his arms useless. Letting my instincts guide me, I cut into the space between his chest and shoulder, severing the rotator cuffs.
His eyes still held defiance.
So I punched him in the jaw again and again until it was gone.
Once I stopped punching him, my ears popped and sound returned. Whatever spell Scarlet had used to block out all sound must’ve been wind-based. I heard the ragged breathing of the orc in front of me, his eyes now holding fear instead of defiance. I had broken his nose and parts of his jaw. But I was still holding his head upwards, flooding his airways with blood. He was choking.
“Where are the other slaves?” I asked.
He gurgled.
I released his head and the orc fell face forward, spitting blood and phlegm onto the ground.
“Whoa...” Scarlet had appeared next to me and he looked down at the orc, then back to me.
The young mage swallowed and looked away when our eyes met.
A single ability, Coin Toss was all it took. Scratch that, two abilities. The active ability, Coin Toss in conjunction with Arcane Masochism became a cheat skill that allowed me to raise either my attack, defense or speed randomly every 60 seconds. It was funny, how the Coin Toss effect should have worn off after 60 seconds. But Arcane Masochism turned it into perma-buff that kept on stacking as long as I stayed in combat. A month ago, I couldn't even have dreamed of looking at these orcs the wrong way.
Now...
I leaned down and grabbed the orc by the back of his hair, lifting his head up. I was careful to angle his head down so that he wouldn’t start choking again. I kept my voice quiet, lest I alert the others.
“Tell me where the other slaves are and it'll be quick, Warrior.”
He didn’t answer.
“Allow me.” Scarlet moved his hands in a few gestures and I thought I recognized them, they looked almost ninja-like.
I wasn’t able to tell what spell Scarlet cast from his mana signature, my mana sense was too weak for that. But I knew what it was as soon as the orc’s eyes glazed over and he gained a dreamy expression.
“He knows how to cast Sleeptalk. That’s a 2nd circle spell so he’s grade 8. No wonder he didn’t tell me his grading when I told him I was grade 7.”
Sleeptalk wouldn’t work unless the opponent was near under 30% hp in the game. I was slightly curious as to how to know when Sleeptalk would be effective in the real world, but stowed that question for later.
“Where are the other slaves?” I repeated.
"Nice ones… upstairs. Cheaper ones… further… down.”
I cursed. That was the worst answer I could’ve received.
L’teya would definitely be in one of the upper levels then. Why? It was simple. She was an elven beauty with tanned skin, an extremely rare trait among her race. She was also a barbarian from the Delirious Jungle, which added to her uniqueness. I wasn’t an expert on the slave market but knew enough about the game’s different races to know what would be valued.
“Guards upstairs? Downstairs?”
“Warchief Thoktur and… Shaman Skurl guards upstairs…. below… guarded by… Madame Damure’s guards…”
Huh. Now that was interesting.
Why would that merchant choose to guard the slaves whom were worth less? If she was truly as cunning as she seemed, there was no way she’d forgo the choice to place her men near prime merchandise. I had seen Damur. She was drinking from a richly adorned cup with her pet-orc slave from a different horde, all the while Skurl was grading slaves like me. Damur was greedy... someone like that wouldn't let Thokthur and Skurl guard the main attraction.
Something smelled fishy here. Also why would they separate the slaves in the first place?
“It’s for the clientele.” Scarlet muttered.
I gave him a questioning look.
He shrugged. “My master told me a bit about the slave trade while we were here... They’re looking for.. You know. Slaves that look nice and stuff.”
“What about us then?” Should I be insulted that he looked me up and down while saying 'look nice'?
“We’re the battle slaves... probably.” He answered. “The ones below… I don’t know.”
“There’s something fishy about the ones they’re keeping below.” I smelt it.
A Hidden Piece.
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The path towards the heavens leads to death, but the descent into darkness offers life. You must choose, whether to be bathed in light and lose all you hold dear or cover yourself in shadow and live to fight another day.
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I made my decision.
“I’m going to head down.” I told Scarlet.
“Do you think your friend is down there?” He released his spell and the orc fell unconscious.
I wanted to lie to get the mage to go with me, but our deal was over. Besides, I would be walking into danger based on Arrosh's words alone. I didn't want to risk someone else's life for my little escapades.
“I think they’re hiding something down there, and I intend to find out what.” I told him truthfully.
“Ugh…” He groaned. “I held up my end of the bargain though..."
“Yes. You did.” I turned to him and smiled. "Thank you."
God, the whole exchange felt so awkward I wanted to cringe and hide in a rock somewhere. It was probably just as awkward for Scarlet because I saw the boy blush and look away, sheepishly.
"A deal's a deal..." He muttered.
I smiled but didn’t say more.
"Well... good luck with everything... Mr. Lock." Scarlet's form began to blur.
"Right. You take care too... and I hope you find your master." That sounded a lot better in my ears. I must be getting better at this whole temporary companion and alliance thing.
One my hearing no longer picked up the sound of Scarlet's footsteps from the staircase, I went over to the orc who was sleeping. I felt my lips curl with disdain at what I was about to do. It was like I was poking my hands into garbage, dirtying myself.
I stabbed him in the back of the neck and finished him off.
I had expected a part of myself to feel guilt. Or shame. Anything really.
I didn't.
I think I wanted to feel guilt. But the part of me that felt guilt for doing this was long gone. It was either them or me... and I understood now. The same way that I had been ready to die when I wielded my sword, they had been ready too. I didn't go around on a mass murder spree killing innocents just for the sake of it. This had been necessary.
Or maybe I was just fooling myself.
I quietly followed Scarlet's footsteps but instead of going upstairs as he did, I went downwards.
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