After the incredible strain of my mental struggle with the Origins deep within my own soul, the sharp steel at my throat didn't scare me much. My tired gaze focused on the eyes of the one leaning over me, the owner of the Ruby Core pretending to be a common beggar from the city's underbelly.
When I passed by this strange high-level group of homeless, I assumed that they were people broken by fate who wanted nothing more from life, and poverty for them was simply the path of least resistance. Now, however, as I crossed gazes with the elder among them, I clearly understood that my assumptions were entirely wrong. There was no hint of lostness or inner emptiness in the eyes of the one bending over me. Instead, there was cold, calculating confidence and a sense of righteousness.
My first instinct was to raise my hand and try to push the blade away from my throat. But catching in the ruby one's gaze a brief flicker of a familiar veil, invisible to the uninitiated, which I would have missed if our eyes hadn't been just a few inches apart, I propped myself up on my elbow and, saying nothing, quietly assumed a seated position. The cold, sharp foreign blade, in response to my movement, pierced my skin, but I felt that the wound was shallow, nothing more than a scratch. The two warriors of Steel standing behind the ruby one stepped forward in response to my movement but were stopped by a sharp gesture from the senior.
Leaning against the stone masonry of the city wall, I felt considerable relief. I needed to sit like this for at least a minute to calm the residual dizziness after the confrontation with the Origins. As for the clearly not very friendly people looming over me, I was not afraid of them. And not because they were not dangerous. Far from it. For most people who found themselves on this street in the dark of night, such interest from these men could easily end fatally. But they posed no threat to me specifically.
My first observation was erroneous. I had identified the senior among the pseudo-beggars as a warrior, but it seemed he had long left that Path behind and was now walking a different Road. The blade as sharp as a razor at my throat was held not by a warrior but by a priest.
A priest of Shadow, an adept of the Night Sister. It was the slight veil of Shadow Vision I had noticed in his gaze as he examined me.
The fact that there was a developed cult of Seguna in Tries I could have guessed earlier. Because dozens of urban legends speak of the presence of a true altar, and even Ender, the sheriff of a distant island in the archipelago, knows about it. Because there is a Thieves' Guild in this city, and its members know where the altar is, all of this points to the presence of a Shadow cult in Tries. And where there is a cult, a priest must surely arise.
I'm confident this man wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone he deemed a threat to the altar. Even if that "someone" were a city council senator or an admiral of the fleet, the priest would still kill them. Nevertheless, despite the knife at my throat, I felt completely safe. A priest, especially one so close to his altar, is much stronger than a regular man of the same rank. His connection to the place of power gives him much greater strength and unique abilities. I believe the ruby one looming over me in this place, especially with Seguna at its zenith, would not be inferior in capabilities to a mage or fighter of Itildine, one of the legendary ranks. But the Path he had chosen also imposed certain restrictions on him.
Almost a minute of complete silence had passed. During that time, I managed to quell my dizziness, but my inexplicably silent behavior had clearly not pleased the priest. The pressure on the blade pressed against my neck intensified. At this rate, it wouldn't be ten seconds before the sharp steel would sever my artery.
Of course, such an outcome was not part of my plans for tonight. Therefore, maintaining complete silence, I met the priest's gaze again and issued a mental command: "Visualization." For just a fraction of a second, a Sign flashed between the priest and me. Those standing behind the ruby one didn't notice anything at all.
But that moment was enough. The foreign steel, dimly gleaming in Seguna's light, disappeared into the sleeve of the man looming over me, and he stepped back, rising to his feet. Following him, I also rose. After crossing glances with the priest again, we stood like that for about ten seconds, after which we nodded to each other. Then the ruby one turned his back on me and walked at a leisurely pace towards the place where he had been sitting before he noticed me.
The priest of Seguna, after seeing my Sign of "Affinity with Shadow," couldn't refuse me a prayer at the altar. He could refuse anyone else, regardless of their rank and status, but not the one blessed by the Lady of the Night.
The fighter of Wootz, standing next to the priest, didn't understand what was happening and made a swift step towards me but was immediately stopped by a quiet but sharp growl from the senior.
I barely held back from smirking at the wootz one, who clearly didn't understand what was happening and why the stranger, who hadn't uttered a word all this time and was behaving so strangely, was now calmly leaving them. But, of course, I didn't provoke him, and not a muscle on my face twitched. Instead, my fingers touched the brickwork again. With slight apprehension, I delved into myself and reached out to the inner Shadow.
This time, the Light didn't interfere, and the Shadow responded to my call. The world around me changed slightly, just a little, but enough for the night shadows to stop hiding something from me. Lifting my head, I easily found the Second Moon drifting across the night sky and mentally whispered: "Guide me, Seguna."
A faint chill ran through the fingertips I had against the wall, and following that sensation, I confidently stepped toward the Seventh City Tower. But I hadn't walked even twenty meters when I stopped. Facing the wall, I ran my fingers over the ancient brick, then pressed my palm fully against the masonry. From the outside, it might look like a weary or intoxicated reveler had tiredly leaned against the wall. It was here, separated from me by two meters of stone and brick, that the true altar of the Night Sister was located. Someone without an "Affinity with Shadow" would never find this place, no matter how much they searched.
Unlike many other deities, Seguna does not require long rituals or sacrifices. And the usual offering - your shadow falling onto the altar and a few drops of blood - was impossible in this case. So, I simply asked for what I needed. I knew that I would be Heard by the Echo of the Fallen deity anyway. And my calculation turned out to be correct.
I was Heard.
And, as had happened before, my soul momentarily leaped out of my body. It soared above the clouds, drawn to the Night Sister, and then just as quickly, like a meteor slicing through the night sky, it returned.
The mental shock from the "return of the soul" was so strong that my legs buckled, and I fell to my knees, still not removing my palm from the wall. An involuntary groan escaped my lips.
I was Heard.
And I was Denied.
The Echo of the Night Sister was displeased with me. The Affinity with Light that I had gained caused a sharp aversion in Seguna.
Rising from my knees and breathing heavily, I now knew that no matter how much I prayed to the Shadow, all my requests would be Denied. And to receive the Gifts of Shadow, I first had to earn Seguna's forgiveness. The trouble was that how to do this, how to receive this absolution, I was not "told."
Peeling my hand off the wall, I staggered but managed to stay on my feet. Biting my lip until it bled, I straightened up and methodically, like a robot, stepped to wherever my eyes took me; it only mattered that I was moving away from the city wall. And until I disappeared into one of the dark alleyways, I could clearly feel the heavy gaze of Seguna's priest on my back. Until I earn the forgiveness of the Night Sister, it's better for me not to appear here.
Damn it! I had hoped to get a boost tonight, but instead, I not only remained without new skills but also earned the Displeasure of a deity. As if I don't have enough other problems in this life!
Having walked like a robot for two blocks, I sidestepped into a dark alleyway, disappeared into its gloom, and, leaning against the wall, allowed myself to relax a little. I immediately started shaking with fine tremors, and my legs became like cotton wool. I even had to sit down right on the pavement so as not to collapse onto the ground.
No, this weakness wasn't due to nerve strain, a belated onset of fear, or an adrenaline hangover. It was a mental backlash from what I'd experienced. My soul received two heavy hits in this barely begun night. First, it became the battlefield of the Origins, and then the Night Sister called upon it. Even one such trial is a lot, and when there are two in a row, with practically no break, it cannot pass without consequences.
The most annoying part is that I could have foreseen and avoided everything that happened. I could have if I had thought in the "right direction." But my mind in recent days was filled with other thoughts, for which I was now paying the price.
As soon as I received the "Affinity with Light," I immediately assumed that two Origins might "clash." But I didn't go beyond this assumption, and I should have. Yes, on the surface, I had nothing to worry about, the Shadow still responded readily, and I thought everything was going as it should. But my appeals to the Shadow were superficial, and as soon as I delved a little deeper into shadow meditation today, the coexistence of two almost opposing Origins manifested itself.
The situation was further complicated by the fact that the gods of Ain had long Fallen, leaving only a certain ephemeral trace on the mental body of the world. And these Echoes of deities, as far as I understood, were not fully-fledged personalities. And if they reacted to some influences, they did so according to the general character of their divine essence that gave birth to them. If it was possible to try and persuade a real deity, explain that my Affinity with Light was not acquired by my own will but as a "side effect" of destroying the true altar of Nulgle... It was useless to talk to Seguna's Echo, as this residual essence was incapable of a full-fledged dialogue. Or, if it was capable, I had no idea how to start such a dialogue.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
It would also be pointless to return to the altar and ask for clarification on what exactly the Echo of Seguna would consider as atonement. I wouldn't even be "listened" to. But the displeasure of the Shadow towards me might very well be felt by the Ruby-rank priest, and then my life would not be worth a penny in the local market.
However, looking at the situation from another angle, everything is not as bad as it could have been. What happened allowed me to detect the conflict of Origins early enough, and I had sufficient strength to pacify it and reconcile Shadow and Light within my soul.
Initially, these two Powers are not opposite and conflicting at the concept level, like Light and Darkness. Essentially, the Shadow is impossible without Light and occupies a lower tier in the hierarchy of Powers. So, these two Origins should have coexisted in my soul relatively "peacefully."
But "something" went wrong.
And I think I know what it was.
Apparently, the issue was that on Ain, the Origins were personified; that is, they had their avatars - gods. And these gods had personalities. It was the conflict of these personalities that led to the fact that Shadow does not accept Light. According to local mythology, two Brothers, two Elder gods, just one step below Eyrat the Creator, Antares and Obeorn, chose sisters for wives. One married the Day Moon, the other the Night. Then, during the First Invasion of the demons, Obeorn, the god of Darkness, pursuing some of his own goals, sided with the demons and was killed by his brother Antares, the god of Light. And these ancient deeds that occurred over two thousand years ago almost destroyed me today.
Moreover, my "past self" read the local Scriptures, and according to them, Seguna never managed to forgive Antares for killing her husband. He read and, thanks to the memory of the future, my "present self" knew this story. I knew but did not compare, did not piece together known facts, and didn't even think that because of that ancient tragedy, the Shadow in my soul would not accept the Light.
I didn't think.
I didn't compare.
My own fault.
Ain often does not forgive such mistakes. I was still lucky that I got off so lightly. Most in my place would not have been able to extricate themselves from this situation and would either have lost all their powers or eventually died. I should be rejoicing, but instead, bitter disappointment is churning inside me. I went to the altar hoping to strengthen myself and gain a new Skill. I relied on this strengthening in my plans, but in the end, not only did I not get what I needed, but I also earned Seguna's displeasure. A displeasure that I have no idea how to atone for.
I sat in the darkness of the archway for about ten minutes, collecting myself. And only after feeling more or less normal did I dare to stand up. But before taking a step further, I reached out to the Shadow. To my relief, the Origin responded as usual, meaning that Seguna's displeasure had no effect on my current abilities but only imposed restrictions on acquiring new ones. Just in case, I reached out to the Light, but since I had no skills for this Origin, I limited myself to only the call itself.
No conflict.
Already, not as bad as it could have been. However Seguna may feel about Antares, these two Origins no longer feuded in my soul. I was still very lucky that during my visit to the Temple and dialogue with Antares's priest, I did not appeal to the true altar of Light, hoping to get some useful skill or ability. I think I would have received a similar "response" from the Echo of the luminous deity, and there is a high chance that I would not have left the Temple alive. Antares and his followers are too categorical in their judgments and, unlike Seguna and her priests, do not recognize half-tones. The displeasure of the Light in relation to me would most likely have been interpreted unequivocally, that I am an enemy, and my journey on Ain's roads would have come to an end.
By the way, it's crucial to remember and not even attempt to offer prayers to Antares in the Temples. Maybe later, when I reach the hidden True Altars of Light in the depths of the Inverted Tower of Sun City, I might pray to the Light, but not earlier. However, by that time, I need to reach the Legendary Ranks and descend at least six dozen Floors. But this is a prospect of a very distant future that I still need to survive until.
Shaking my head, I chased thoughts of such a distant time out of my mind, then confirmed that my knees were not buckling and stepped out of the alley. The night street greeted me with silence: not a single passerby, and only a couple of homeless were sleeping under the wall of the rental house, wrapped in some rags. This is good, which means the Priest did not send any of his servants to follow me. Either he didn't feel the Displeasure of his Mistress, or Seguna's Displeasure is our personal business with her and concerns only the Echo of the deity and me. I hope the latter is true, but I don't want to test whether it is so, and it's better not to appear before the Priest of Shadow for now.
Evaluating roughly my location, I turned around and strode in the direction where I had left Aun. As the path I took here was now closed to me, I had to rearrange the city map mentally and lay out a new route. However, Tries is considered a big city only by Ain standards, and I was confident that even if I made a slight mistake in the direction, I wouldn't wander for long and would soon reach the desired inn.
Stepping softly on the cobblestone so that my steps were like a cat's, I pondered how to achieve Seguna's "forgiveness." Absorbed in these thoughts, I walked almost two blocks and entered a more prosperous district. Here, some taverns could already afford albeit dim, but still magically lit signs. Despite the late hour, two establishments were still operating. However, this was rather the norm, as Tries was a port city, and drinking places served alcohol until the last visitor.
From one such tavern, a small group of five sailors staggered out. At first, I was surprised at what they were doing so far from the port, but then I realized by their uniforms that these were locals, apparently, who had recently disembarked from one of the war galleys. They, unlike foreigners, definitely knew where to drink cheaper and chose this tavern.
As soon as this group of heavily drunk sailors boisterously tumbled out onto the street, I immediately evaluated their ranks. Three were Iron and the other two Bronze. As my experienced eye noticed, none of them had weapons, not even knives or daggers. Nevertheless, I've had enough "adventures" for tonight, so I quickly crossed to the other side of the street. However, "the other side" is a grand way of saying it when the street itself is less than ten steps wide. As I was passing by the sailors, one of them looked up at me. In response, I immediately took a step slightly to the side.
"Hey!" The smallest and scrawniest of the sailors, who was quite drunk, immediately called out to me. "Why are you dodging me?! Do you think I stink?! Hey! I'm talking to you."
As the entire night street was empty except for these sailors and me, it was obvious whom he was calling out. Someone clearly had itchy fists, and a night passerby with a Bronze band of a foreigner in the city seemed to be a suitable victim. The fact that I was more than a head taller than him and obviously heavier, while our rank was the same, did not deter the sailor. The bad part was that the other sailors were also interested in me, and each of them, having glanced at my band, gained a charge of bravery.
There were five of them, and they were drunk. In principle, I could turn around and easily run away from them. I'm sure they wouldn't have been able to catch me, even knowing the city much better than me. And "the me" that I was on Earth would undoubtedly have done so. But "the me" that I am now was a different person.
"Hey!" The short sailor, who seemed to be the instigator, yelled again, taking a quick step towards me and extending his hand, clearly wanting to grab my sleeve. "I will teach you how…"
He didn't finish speaking. Three straight fingers, folded like the tip of a spear, hit him right in the solar plexus. Such a blow on Earth can only be performed by the best masters because it is much easier to hit with a fist than with fingers. But if your fingers are trained and don't bend when they come into contact with an opponent's abs, the effect of such a blow will be stunning. My Bronze rank, combined with the Enhanced Body and my past gymnastics training, had the desired effect. My fingers did not fail me. The first and the most insolent sailor doubled over without finishing his sentence.
Perfect, one hit – and one opponent is out. You can forget about him for a couple of minutes. I hit as soon as the enemy gave me an opportunity. Conversations? Squabbles? Why all this when it's absolutely clear from the very beginning where a night meeting on a quiet and empty street will lead?
There are two ways to fight multiple opponents. The first, adhered to by Katashi Atsushi, is first to eliminate the strongest and finish off the weaker enemies later. The second, which Ronin taught me, was the opposite: first, focus on the weaklings and, after cleaning them up, free up space for maneuvering and, at the same time, deflate the fighting spirit of the other opponents. But in this case, I followed Nate's advice, which combined these two ways. The future God of War said: "With the first - most unexpected - blow, while the enemy still doesn't know your capabilities, strengths, and weaknesses, hit the strongest if possible. Then, when his fall demoralizes the rest, use this to kill the weak! If you bring them down quickly, it can break the morale of the other enemies completely."
Of course, I wasn't planning on killing anyone right now. After all, this is just an ordinary street fight, not a battle to the death. But in all other aspects...
My next victim was one of the sailors who had become dumbfounded, watching as his companion silently slumped onto the deck, gasping for air like a fish tossed ashore. What's more, he was an Iron, a heavily drunk Iron. I don't think he even noticed my strike; at any rate, he didn't attempt to dodge. His forehead met my open palm with a dull thud, followed by a blow from my shin beneath his knee. As the sailor began to fall backward, I quickly closed the distance and drove my elbow into his temple, sending him into the realm of hazy dreams. This sudden movement allowed me to avoid the wide swing from the largest of the enemies, who had finally shaken off his surprise.
It hadn't even been three seconds since the fight began, and instead of five, I now only had three opponents. Moreover, only one of them was equal to me in rank.
Dramatically intercepting the fist flying towards my face with my palm, as if I were a character in some Hong Kong action film, I smirked menacingly at the sailor who hadn't expected such a move. He immediately started to sober up rapidly, but this process didn't finish before his head met the much harder cobblestone pavement after my unexpected leg sweep.
The third Iron enemy roared and pounced at me, spreading his arms wide like a seasoned sumo wrestler. But to his misfortune, unlike an actual wrestler, he clearly lacked the mass and training, which led to him quickly hitting the ground after first receiving a disabling blow to his knee and then a finishing elbow strike to the back of his head.
The last sailor still standing, if he had been sober, would probably have run away after seeing such a swift dispatch of his comrades. But, whether it was due to a high dose of alcohol in his blood or his natural inadequacy, he loudly cursed and launched into the attack.
He, like me, was a Bronze and apparently a fan of tavern brawls. At least he definitely knew how to throw punches. Strong, sharp, well-aimed strikes. But I didn't set out to have a boxing match with him. As I had "noted" in the previous Cycle, the locals know how to punch, but they don't know how to wrestle. So, after receiving a few blows on my forearms, two on my shoulders, and one glancing off my cheekbone, I closed the distance, grabbed his sleeve with my left hand and his belt with my right, and executed a classic hip throw. But unlike in Sambo, I didn't try to pin him down; as soon as his back hit the cobblestones, knocking the breath out of his lungs, I administered a finishing combo.
From the moment I heard the first "Hey!" not even a minute had passed. Yet I continue on my way already, but behind me remain and try to come to their senses the five who crossed my path.
A faint smile plays on my face. And this smile tells me how much I've changed in just a few weeks spent in Ain.