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The Last Rae of Hope [Isekai]
Book 1: Chapter 37: Fetid Foothills

Book 1: Chapter 37: Fetid Foothills

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Vernie avoided me as much as possible the following day. I also refused to look at her, at least when I thought she’d notice. It was the customary silent treatment plus complete denial of existence between two sullen females, each side having perfected an imaginary barrier that simply negated the other’s presence. If I talked to Aleph, she would purposely disappear from the edge of my view. When she went to Tetora, I avoided them both like the plague. And never were our paths to cross that morning.

It did feel weird to be decorated in all the safe luxury a good set of armor could afford, though, especially when it was given to you by the person you were having a cold war with. She was still trustworthy, of course; I just didn’t appreciate being treated like someone who needed to be carefully handled and manipulated. Therefore, I could not apologize first, even if I felt somewhat guilty.

Nora sat beside me, disrupting my imaginary isolation barrier as I ate my breakfast in heavy silence. “Got a reply,” she said cryptically as she handed me her open journal.

I glanced down, and sure enough, another sheet of papyrus was shoved between two pages. The top contained the default confidentiality header, so I quickly skipped down to the meat of the memo.

> From: Clare Mercure (Human Resources)

>

> To: Eleanora Beatrice Perez and Rachel Emily Smith

>

> RE: Nora’s Request/NAUGHT Advertisement

>

> Thank you for confirming receipt of my first letter via ‘prayer request’.

>

> The following attachment is in response to Nora’s ‘informational inquiry’ regarding NAUGHT.

>

> Please note that Human Resources is in no position to grant “limitless, god-like powers to be used without consequence” to anyone and does not condone the use of such reckless powers by its employees, clients, volunteers, or customers.

>

>  

>

> ATTACHMENT: NAUGHT Advertisement

>

>  

>

> NAUGHT: Not A Universal God Hand Tool

>

> NAUGHT is nothing on its own, but in the hands of content creators with working knowledge of The Rules*, it has the potential to do anything.

>

> NAUGHT-certified content creators use NAUGHT to bring their stories to life.

>

> See our customer success stories available on the DivinitEpub platform.

>

> Interested in becoming a NAUGHT-certified content creator?

>

> Please contact Client Services at Cooperative Universal Publishing.

>

> Together, we can adopt and adapt best practices throughout our shared realities.

>

> Cooperative Universal Publishing

>

> Connecting your world to ours.

>

> *The Rules are subject to change without notice. CUP strives to index and document these ever-changing rules in real-time to ensure the optimal NAUGHT experience.

The address for the North American headquarters was intentionally blurred out at the bottom of the document. I reread the document several times, scowling harder and harder on each pass. “What does this mean?”

“Yes, well…” Nora scratched her head. “They named NAUGHT… something it’s not.”

I bristled at that one. “You did that on purpose!”

“No, I think they did.”

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“They? You mean CUP?”

“Yes. Or the creator of the tool. I think it is a cautionary tale.”

“Eh?” I asked as intelligently as I could.

“NAUGHT is nothing on its own.” Nora pointed to the advertisement. “This next line makes me think it’s a powerful tool in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing, but it isn’t everything.”

That was the God-hand part.

I scowled. “How does this help us?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Nora admitted. “But we asked and got an answer, at least. We still need to find NAUGHT, even if it can’t do everything, because we need it to do something.”

More nonsense. Great!

With careful slowness, I reread the advertisement. “The Rules… Didn’t President Abrams say something about ‘The Rules?’”

“He said he didn’t know all of them when he was younger. But this says they’re ever-changing,” Nora replied.

“It’d be nice to know what they have to say right now,” I mumbled speculatively.

“We should ask for a copy,” Nora agreed. “I thought he was talking about publishing rules, but now… I’m not so sure.”

“It would count as an informational inquiry, right?” I sighed. “Oh… but maybe it’s only for content creators.”

“We won’t know until we ask! The worst she can do is say no.”

And admonish us in HR-speak for even asking. But that still didn’t have any real bite here. What was she going to do? Summon us to her office?

After breakfast, Aleph insisted on another sword lesson. I sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to let me just coast. The second lesson was more of the first, though he told me often to stop moving my hand past the hilt as I transitioned grips. He even showed me the ox position (or, as Nora clarified, the Ochs stance), where you hold the sword in both hands, keeping it level with your head while sort of standing next to it. The technique made it easy to transition into a pommel strike, though again, there was no way I would connect with him. Aleph paid more attention to adjusting my footwork and repeatedly reminded me to control my swings. If I heard “it’s not an ax” one more time…

I caught Vernie glancing at me now and then during the sword lesson, but Aleph was ensuring I paid a price every time I got distracted. A quick thwack would come with a stern reminder to ‘Keep your eyes on your opponent.’

Nora watched the whole thing, though she was gracious enough not to comment on my flailing. Instead, she opted for encouragement. “Hey! Looks like you’re getting the hang of it!” Ironically, I took the supportive gesture as a sign that I was doing worse than I thought.

“I’ll believe that when he says that,” I grumbled.

We broke camp a little while later. Vernie assumed the lead before I could even issue orders, signaling that not only would this be a long day, but likely, the entire journey ahead would be equally taxing.

Nora hung back with the rest of the group, idly playing with the knife she received earlier. Tetora’s determined but sickly gaze fixed on the landscape in front of us, and after a few dismissed attempts, I gave up trying to talk to him about how he was feeling. Aleph once again carried the bulk of our supplies without a single note of dissent.

The rocky foothills were just as sunny and dry as the wastes, though curly brown moss covered most dirt surfaces, which may have helped keep down the overall level of particulate dust.

As we continued deeper, I noticed a foul odor reminiscent of leaking sewage.

“What is making that awful smell?” I asked the party as we took another brief rest in the late morning.

Vernie shot me a withering look. “We’re in malodorous mustelid territory. Don’t even remember that much, huh?” It wasn’t worth responding to her, even if the words out of her mouth made no sense.

Nora jumped up from the boulder she was sitting on. “Will we get to see one?!”

“Probably not,” Vernie answered. “They rarely come out in the daytime.”

“Rats,” she sighed, sitting back down.

“No, more like giant, stinky mongooses that walk on two feet,” Vernie corrected, wiping some sweat off her brow with a trembling hand. Had I upset her that badly? No… It’s just warm out—and I’m not feeling guilty!

“Let’s get moving,” Tetora snapped, chafing at our slow pace. “We’re wasting time.”

The smell worsened the farther we progressed, and I knew there was no way I would eat anytime soon. Vernie still led the way, but she now stuck closer to the rest of us, her eyes darting back and forth as a slight frown settled on her features.

As we approached a hill, Vernie ascended ahead of us, and a particularly pungent wave of stench wafted past my nose, causing me to dry heave. “Uuuh, how long until we get through here?”

Instead of answering my question, Vernie suddenly took a few quick steps backward down the hill, positioning herself in front of me and causing all of us to halt. Before I could question her on what she was doing, she shouted, “Incoming!”

As I craned my neck to look over her shoulder, my heart jumped at the sight: at least three dozen small, filthy creatures, about four feet tall, crested the hill, all poised for attack.. They were a ferocious sight—sharp claws, pointed snouts, and jagged teeth. Some even clutched rocks in their clawed paws. Their meerkat-like features were marred by angry, ringed eyes that seemed to weep sorrowful tears.

“What are those?” I asked.

“Malodorous mustelids,” Vernie answered curtly.

Oh, so that wasn’t just random jibberish earlier.

Suddenly, one emitted a belligerent squawk, which the others reacted to as if it were a call to battle. In a frenzied blur, they surged towards us, pouring down the hill like a tidal wave of fury and claws.

I grabbed the hilt of my sword and began to pull it free, but something stopped me. Vernie’s hand gripped my forearm, preventing me from drawing.

“Vernie!” I yelled, struggling as her firm grip on my arm held me back. Why was she stopping me? What kind of petty game was she playing? Now wasn’t the time for this! Or…

A terrible thought gnawed at the back of my mind as the creatures rapidly closed in… She did say not to trust her.

“Vernie!” I shrieked. “Let me go!”

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