As she suspected, there wasn’t much that was salvageable from the drake’s carcass due to the extensive damage her explosion and the subsequent cave-in had caused. Even many of its bones were unusable due to being fractured or fragmented. She’d only managed to collect a couple square yards of intact, scaled hide, a handful of sharp teeth, a few un-broken claws, and the spirit pearl. It was mildly disappointing that she wasn’t able to get more, but she couldn’t complain too much since her primary goal had been surviving the encounter and not material harvesting. And, she did come away with one highly notable prize.
The beast core was the most valuable of everything she’d harvested, and essentially made removing the tons of fallen stone worth it by itself. The glimmering orb was the size of a large grape, and radiated potent energy infused heavily with the elements of Earth and Water. It was the largest beast core that she’d seen to date, and she used [Inspect] on it out of sheer curiosity.
Ancient Cliff Drake Beast Core (Rank 10 - Mid)
Affinities: Earth, Water
The drake’s rank was second only to the faux-god Xiomavat, which was Rank 15 when she faced it in the General’s scenario. Granted, five ranks was a large jump in power, but it was still impressive that just the three of them managed to take the rift guardian down considering she’d needed to leverage an army’s resources in order to defeat Xiomavat. She doubted there were many other spirit beasts of this strength on this floor–if there were any at all–which meant everything she took from the carcass would be incredibly valuable. She didn’t plan on trading the drake materials immediately since she might find some use for them, but it was a comforting thought that she had this ‘wealth’ sitting in her storage if needed.
As for the core, Silas was disappointed that she didn’t want him to consume it right away, but was at least understanding when she explained her reasoning. There was a way for both of them to benefit from the potent energy: [Mongrel’s Feast]. The second rank of this bond ability would allow her to freely consume beast cores because Silas would siphon away the unutilized elemental energies that would normally harm her. The only trouble was that it cost three bond points to purchase, and she currently had a grand total of zero. Even if she consumed [Antler Genesis] she’d still need two more points somehow. She hoped that more of the elusive opportunities to earn BP’s would arise now that they’d left the controlled, curated environments the scenarios had consisted of. Lifelike as they were, she had to believe that the simulations couldn’t fully replicate the unique requirements to gain bond points outside of advancement.
With her foe undeniably vanquished now, it was time to look to the future and make plans to seek out an ascension obelisk. As much as she wanted to leave immediately, she had to return to the Delver’s outpost to retrieve her personal belongings. Before she’d left for the expedition, she’d given her sentimental items–such as the letters from her parents–to Harold for safekeeping. At the time, she’d been afraid that they’d be lost or damaged and Harold was the best option she’d had. Given how her pack ended up at the bottom of the river it had been the right call, but she honestly didn’t want to go back to the outpost at all.
She knew she did nothing wrong, but she also knew how bad it would look coming back with new equipment and in good health when so many others had died. Furthermore, though the complicated emotions she felt towards the Delvers had faded over the years she’d spent in the rift, the same couldn’t be said of their feelings towards her. She suspected they’d be quick to blame her for the incident, and she wasn’t much interested in being the target of their grief and anger. It was best for everyone if she stayed ‘dead’ and collected her belongings quietly, and without fuss. She could head to Centra on her own now that she was Silver.
She activated [Rift Walk] once more to exit the den with Silas and Tobias, then found a comfortable spot in the forest for everyone to rest while her qi regenerated. That was the intention, anyway. Much to her amusement, everyone’s definition of ‘rest’ was wildly different.
Tobias reached down and dug out a handful of dirt from the ground, then let the earth fall through his fingers. “Huh!”
He walked over to a nearby tree and rubbed his fingertips against the rough bark, then raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
He plucked a leaf from a nearby bush and sniffed it. “Ah!”
Samantha chuckled to herself as he went around from place to place and investigated everything he touched. Each new ‘discovery’ Tobias made was accompanied by a short exclamation.
“Well, what do you think?” she inquired.
He paused his evaluation of his most recent find–a mundane snail of some sort–to answer her. “It’s… well it’s more familiar than I expected. Are you sure this isn’t another scenario?”
For a split second her stomach dropped as she considered the possibility that she was still in the rift. Perhaps she’d had some sort of mental break, finally, and was confusing fantasy and reality. However, the doubt was purged from her thoughts as quickly as it had appeared. As imaginative as she liked to think she was, she couldn’t dream up how the world looked to her new spiritual sight. How alive it was.
“I’m sure. Why? Does it seem the same to you?”
Tobias set the snail down on a fallen branch carefully before rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. “Not exactly, I suppose. Everything feels more…” he paused as he searched for the right word, “...substantial? Weighty?” He huffed and shook his head. “No, that’s not right. There is something. It’s just so subtle I can’t describe it well. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
While Tobias went back to poking around in the brush, a bolt of joy shot through her binding thread.
“Yes!” Silas cheered. “I almost forgot how much I missed this!”
Since the abundance of energy and meat he’d consumed from the Winged Snappers had time to settle, Silas had gone off herb hunting. While the scenarios did technically have edible plants, they were wholly mundane. He’d complained more than once to her about how the ‘flavors’ of the plant life were bland in the rift due to the absence of qi.
She couldn’t help but smile as feelings of excitement and satisfaction continued to flow through the thread from Silas. He’d truly been unbearably bored at times when in the cultivation chamber. Foraging was not just a way to feed himself, but also a method of entertainment for him. She was glad that he could finally enjoy himself again like this after so long.
As her qi pool refilled she considered how best to approach Harold. She could project to him and manifest a physical form, but that would likely startle him and might cause a scene. A [Liaison] connection to him could work, but also ran the risk of causing him to react strangely if he was in front of others. Using [Telekinesis] to write him a note was another option, but it would be bad if someone other than Harold saw it. In any case, she needed to make contact when he was alone for the best chance of maintaining secrecy, and getting an idea of the conditions at the outpost was the first step in determining how to proceed.
She took a moment to seat herself comfortably against a nearby tree trunk, then entered spectral form. While she could’ve projected directly to the outpost since she remembered exactly where it was, these few seconds of extra ‘procrastination’ wouldn’t hurt anything. She’d endured enough unpleasantness in recent years that she was allowed to put off facing another undesirable task for a handful of breaths, surely.
Rising up until she was above the canopy, she flew towards the outpost at a moderate pace. While she traveled she tried to fully absorb and appreciate the sights around her, taking special notice of the fog of qi within her spiritual vision. Most interestingly was how spirit beasts stood out against the backdrop of nature. While she was certain that there were many she was overlooking due to stealth abilities or being exceptionally well-matched to the surrounding elemental distributions, the forest was positively crawling with life everywhere she looked. Seeing things from this perspective, it was no wonder her very first foray through this area had been so miserable. Perhaps she’d been a little unfair to Harold all those years ago when she’d blamed him for all their run-ins with the local wildlife. Even without him slowing them down, she doubted she would’ve been able to navigate the maze of trees completely unscathed.
Truth be told, she wasn’t certain how she felt towards the alchemist anymore. She wouldn’t say she missed him, but she recognized his competence as an alchemist and more than once found herself missing his potions. She recalled her past self’s obvious dislike and annoyance with him, but the sharp edges of those emotions were long dulled. Looking at him more objectively, one of his greatest flaws was his lack of ‘filter’. He often said whatever came to his mind without considering the consequences, which more often than not were expressions of his own selfishness. However, in a way, his forthcoming, obvious selfishness was preferable to the more subtle manipulations she’d had to learn to deal with throughout the scenarios. Over time she’d come to realize that it was incredibly rare (and somewhat suspicious) for someone not to be selfish. Most people were just much better at hiding it than Harold was. At least she knew exactly where he stood with his desires and could reliably predict how he’d behave to best serve his motivations.
She also no longer held him accountable for the death of the young courier, Aiden. She doubted the boy was kept captive for any amount of time by the Rat King before being slain. The hours she’d been unconscious from Harold’s potion wouldn’t have made a difference in whether or not she could’ve saved Aiden. Similarly, she no longer blamed her younger self for Harold’s ascension or felt responsible for getting him to safety on this floor. Ol’ Man Whisper, a cultivator of greater wealth, advancement, and influence, had given her an ‘offer’ that she couldn’t refuse without endangering her entire family. And, even if she had refused and suffered the consequences, he would’ve just gotten another cultivator to do his dirty work–albeit with perhaps less explosions. Then, Harold would’ve ended up in the same situation anyway. Both of them, in their own ways, were victims of the greed of more powerful cultivators.
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The Delver’s Outpost came into view in a neat clearing of trees near the riverbank and forced Samantha to refocus on the task at hand. At a glance the first thing she noticed was that the front gates had been reinforced and the walls were manned with more guards than usual. Flying in closer, she listened in on a small group speaking near the gate to try and get an idea for what the delvers’ moods were like.
“Do you ever stop worrying and complaining? If the detectors don’t work it’ll kill us and that’s that,” one of the men grumbled. “Stressing about it is pointless.”
“It’s not worrying, it’s called caution! We don’t know if the sensors will pick up the art usage, is all I’m saying. That’s why I suggested focusing more on watching for tracks in the dirt,” another retorted.
“That’s assuming it even comes from that way. Cole told me it mostly attacked from the water. It might jump up right from the docks and over the walls for all we know!” the first man replied.
“I just hope those reinforcements get here soon…” a woman chimed in. She was looking around nervously and gripped the caster in her hands tightly.
The small group echoed the sentiment with a round of agreements.
So, Cole made it back in one piece? Harper must be thrilled he survived.
Though their time together was brief, she remembered her budding friendship with Harper fondly. Their talks about nothing in particular had given Samantha a sense of normalcy in the whirlwind of uncertainty and change that followed her ascension from the first floor. Thinking back, she never was able to fulfill Harper’s request. Harper had requested riftberries for her husband Cole’s birthday-pie, but Samantha had been planning on giving them to her on the return trip from the rift. That obviously hadn’t worked out.
She was tempted to look in on the couple to see how they were doing in the aftermath of the attack, but didn’t want to get too sidetracked from her original goal. She flew straight towards the barracks and looked for Harold in his assigned cot, but there was no sign of him–or his belongings–anywhere. Confused, she went to the stables next to try and locate him via his bonded-beast Sandy. She should be able to follow the binding thread directly to him, wherever he was at. After reaching the stables and finding Sandy cordoned off from the rest of the bonded-beasts in a cage, it became obvious there was a larger issue at hand. She needed to speak with Harold directly, it seemed.
Following the thin, shining thread coming off of Sandy’s abdomen, Samantha was led to the central building which served as the ‘town hall’ for the outpost. Harper had told her once that beneath this structure was a rift, but it seemed that wasn’t the only thing down there. The thread told her that Harold was somewhere beneath the building, but when she tried to pass into it she was pushed back by an invisible wall. It was the familiar sensation of warding. Pushing against the ward with a hand she felt it begin to bend inwards. She got the impression that she could force her way through if she wanted–it was crude and weak compared to the wards in the rift scenarios–but she’d learned that disturbing the ward to that degree would likely set off some sort of alarm. She’d save that for a last resort. There was another, more unconventional method she could try before that.
Returning to the stables, she placed a spectral hand against Sandy and attempted to attach a [Liaison] thread to her. With luck, this would connect her indirectly with Harold and she could communicate that way.
Sandy immediately began fighting against the forming connection, wary of the foreign energy seeking to bind to her. The defense was surprisingly effective given the difference in power between herself and the sand spider. Spiritually, it felt like trying to tie an oiled thread onto something. The connection just kept slipping and sliding off of Sandy’s qi defenses. Samantha paused for a moment, debating on what to do. This wasn’t meant to be an attack art, or forcefully attached to someone… but she needed to know what was going on. She felt guilty, but she’d need to overcome the spider’s defenses to make this work.
Sorry, Sandy! I’ll make this quick.
Gathering the full spiritual force afforded to her as a Low Silver, she punched a small hole in the shell of qi coating the sand spider and pushed the [Liaison] thread through the gap. Sandy bucked and thrashed in her cage at the spiritual assault, which caused the stable-hand to start jogging over to investigate the problem.
“Sandy, it’s Samantha! Stop!”
“No! Won’t! Won’t break the thread!” Sandy cried at her, pushing back against the art.
“What are you–? I need to talk to Harold.”
Hearing Harold’s name caused her to still somewhat. “Harold? My Harold? No. Won’t break it.”
“You don’t have to break anything. I just want to know what’s going on.”
The stable-hand picked up a nearby broom and banged it against the cage bars a few times. “You settle down now! Settle down!”
“Bad man. Not my Harold.”
Sandy clicked several times at the stable-hand in aggravation, which caused him to shiver and quickly back away from the cage. “I’m doing you a favor by dealing with you myself even though I hate spiders! But I’ll call someone! I will! And you’ll like them less than me.”
“Calm down Sandy. I’m Samantha, remember? We traveled together here. The other human with Harold.”
“The not Harold lady? With the tasty small friend? Yes. Yes, I know you,” Sandy finally started to relax. “Where? How speaking? Feels like my Harold, but not my Harold?”
The stable-hand set the broom down and scurried away, seemingly satisfied with Sandy’s behavior.
“I’m far away, but using an art to speak with you. Can you talk with Harold for me?”
“Why not speak yourself? Like now?”
Samantha struggled to simplify the explanation in a way a spirit beast might understand. “He’s… locked in a place I can’t reach.”
“I am also locked! You can reach me?”
Samantha inwardly sighed. “It’s a special lock I can’t pass. Your lock is normal.”
“Nothing normal about lock! Lock is unnatural. Want freedom. Can you give freedom?”
“Maybe, but you need to talk to Harold for me. Can you do that?”
“Yup! But my Harold is angry. Might ignore.”
“He won’t ignore you if you pass on my words exactly like I speak them.”
“Ugh! So many! Why many words? Use less.”
“...Fine. I want to tell Harold ‘It’s Samantha. I’m speaking through your bond. What’s going on?’. Can you repeat that back to me?”
“Yup! You say: ‘Not Harold lady speak to Sandy for my Harold. What happen? Repeat back!’. How that?”
Samantha slapped her spiritual forehead. This was going to be harder than she thought.
----------------------------------------
After much finagling, trial, and error, Samantha finally got her first response back from Harold through Sandy.
“My Harold say: ‘You not die? Is good. Help. Am Stuck.’”
This wasn’t exactly the grand revelation she was hoping for.
“Ask him why he is stuck and where his things are.”
After a brief pause Sandy responded back. “My Harold say: ‘Other not Harolds die. You gone, so blame him. Steal things. Hide in block of metal. Locked.’ Also. Sandy ask and my Harold say: Is nooormalll lock. Not ssspecialll lock.”
Sandy’s final addition to the message had a tone Samantha could only describe as sassy, or sarcastic. She could only imagine what Harold actually said to Sandy for her to convey it like that. Samantha was finding it difficult to resist the urge to outright ask about if her own belongings were also with his things. The only thing stopping her was that if Harold knew that’s what she was primarily after, he would definitely lie to get her to help him. He wouldn’t hesitate to say her parents’ letters were with his things so she’d come save him, even if they were elsewhere. There were many ways to get around this, but she’d rather take an easier path forward if possible.
“Ask Harold if he knows what the punishment will be.”
A few seconds later Sandy replied. “Break bond. In chains. Make potions. Slave.”
Samantha groaned. How did Harold keep getting himself in these situations? Her own belongings aside, she found it outrageous that the Delvers jumped immediately to enslavement and bond-breaking in response to another ascendant’s actions. As far as she knew there was no way to break a binding thread without the consent of the bonded… but ‘consent’ could be forced via unsavory methods. Harold was socially inept and sometimes aggravating, but even he didn’t deserve to be tortured for something he didn’t do. Heck, he would be getting tortured for something she didn’t even do.
She was extrapolating a lot from Sandy’s communication, but her guess was that the Delvers immediately attributed the Drake’s sneak attack to some grand conspiracy by ‘two evil ascendants’. With her missing, that only left Harold to shoulder the blame for them both. So, this left her with a choice to make.
She could leave Harold to his fate which was in no way her fault or responsibility to fix. As unfortunate as their association was, she wouldn’t be held accountable for the Delvers’ actions. This also would likely mean she’d lose her sentimental items, which would sting… but wouldn’t be the end of the world. Her mind meridian kept each of the letter’s contents fresh in her memory, so they wouldn’t truly be ‘lost’. Or–
Sandy spoke up. “My Harold say: ‘Not Harold lady? Is there? Or is stupid? Slow to answer.’ Oops! My Harold say… not say last part. Sandy mistake. Sandy fix! Not Harold lady ignore. Okay?”
Samantha laughed at that. That was the Harold she remembered.
No… upon reflection, she’d already made her decision. She was just trying to talk herself out of it because she didn’t want to cause herself even more problems with the Delver’s guild. She wanted things to be easy, just once. But, jaded as she was from her years of isolation, there were some things about her that were the same as before. If she could help, she would. She just cared a whole lot less if things got messy in the process.
“Tell Harold that I’ll see what I can do for him.”