I tapped the armrest of the driverless car taking me to Fortress Zuri, trying to get my thoughts in order.
Zuri and I hadn’t talked much the last two months; she was busy with Clan matters, and I was setting up a whole new life, but we had promised to meet up for a coffee when he had some free time.
Silver hadn’t reached out once, but I got the occasional messages from both Aren and Yrin keeping me updated on the kid’s progress. Apparently, he was already proving himself a rare talent. Yrin had invited me to visit.
Thoron also messaged me, and we had made plans to go out for drinks and catch up.
All those plans were now in ruins.
Shal, the patriarch of the Molten Fist clan and Zuri’s father, had gone missing in the Delve-Lands.
I knew this was coming sooner or later, but it didn’t make it any easier.
To distract myself, I looked over my status. I had kept my head low since the Neon Gridlock, so nothing had changed in the last two months, but seeing how far I had progressed helped put me at ease.
----------------------------------------
[STATUS]
Name: Razel Ibicas | Class: Rust Reaver
Level: 11 | XP: 1857/1928
HP: 105/105 | MP: 100/100
Strength: 122 | Dexterity: 152
Perception: 135 | Endurance: 105
Intelligence: 120 | Wisdom: 100
Sync Bonus: 2%
Titles: [Unconventional Problem Solver], [Volcanic Vaquero], [Alpha Slayer - 1], [Omega Slayer - 1], [Defier of the Faithful], [Resolute Survivor]
----------------------------------------
[ABILITIES]
[Passive:]
[Barter] (Common) 3/10
[Tight Grip] (Common) 4/10
[Pain Tolerance] (Uncommon) 6/20
[Lucky Shot] (Rare) 7/30
[Eternal Warrior] (Epic) 1/50
[Active:]
[Metal Storm] (Uncommon) 1/20
[Magma Bullet] (Rare) 5/30
[Sothog’s Lament] (Rare) (Unique) 1/30
[Razor Tempest] (Epic) 1/50
[Apostate’s Blade] (Divine) (Unique) 4/???
[Stances:]
[Uncanny Dodge] (Rare) 4/30
[Unflinching Fortitude] (Rare) 1/30
----------------------------------------
[MISSION LOG]
[The Broker’s Truth]
Track down Orelia Silas and find out the truth.
----------------------------------------
[The Butcher’s Fate]
Discover if Varhas Corax is still alive. If he is, fix that.
----------------------------------------
[The Shard’s Machinations]
Figure out what Ignateous Toriklas’ plans are.
----------------------------------------
[The Alpha and the Omega]
Discover information about the Alpha and the Omega creatures.
----------------------------------------
[The Gem]
Grow Stronger.
“Awaken, Apostate of Rust.”
----------------------------------------
[Murasaki no Yakusoku]
Keep Patriarch Shal’s approaching demise secret and assist Zuri Hiwara in retrieving his body.
Reward: One item from the Red Hoard
----------------------------------------
I stared at the last mission on my list. Damn you, Shal.
The car was stopped at a pair of traffic lights when movement at the edge of my vision caught my attention. I turned to look outside of the window and started in surprise. The man that had cut my hair, I think his name was Fernando, was staring at me intensely, his long golden hair shining brilliantly against the matte metals of the town. But that’s not what kept my gaze fixed on the man.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
That was his eyes. One was green, and the other one was gray. And they were shining with an otherworldly light.
“Hob?”
“Yes, sir?”
“This car is equipped with a perception-blocking subroutine, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Hob answered readily.
“And that subroutine is active right now, right?” I said, glancing down at my companion.
Hob hesitated as I turned to look at Fernando, who was still staring at me.
“It is, sir.”
Fernando gave me a knowing smile and winked.
The next moment, the car smoothly started moving again and turned the corner, and the strange man disappeared out of view.
“What the fuck was that?” I asked Hob, who looked as bewildered as I was.
“I don’t know, sir,” he replied. “From what I can tell, this car’s [Perception Blocker] should be powerful enough to stop all subroutines of Epic strength or below.”
I leaned back in my seat and shuddered. “So whoever this Fernando is, he has an item with a Legendary rank subroutine.”
Both times I saw him, he wasn’t wearing the clothes of an elder. For the Molten Fist to afford to give one of its non-elder members, even a senior one, an item with a legendary subroutine… This Clan was full of monsters. And what the hell was up with that wink?
Before long, the car reached its destination, an abandoned-looking neighborhood. Shopfronts were boarded up, and some of the windows of the unadorned buildings were smashed in.
This would have been a typical sight in the Outer Ring, except from what I understood, the Scorched Plains were gifted to Shal’s clan a couple years ago at most. Knowing the Patriarch, he wouldn't have let this neighborhood fester even if he had received it in this state.
So, this was intentional.
I stepped out of the car and looked at the dilapidated-looking house that Zuri had given me the directions to. The thick layer of dust before the door spoke of years of neglect. And yet, when I stepped towards the door, it opened smoothly and without a whisper of sound. My boots kicked up no dust, and looking back, I left no footprints.
I stepped inside the pitch-black building, and the door closed behind me. As soon as I heard the click of the door, I heard the click of a hammer being cocked next to my ear.
A party invite popped up in my vision.
“Accept the invite,” Zuri said, her voice hoarse.
What had gotten into her? “Zuri, what the fuck are you doing? You invited me here!”
“Accept the damn invite.” She growled back.
Flabbergasted, I did as she asked. As soon as the party interface was up, I heard her voice in my head.
“Hob, are you there?” Zuri asked.
Hob glanced at me in confusion. I sent him a mental shrug.
“Yes, Miss Zuri. I am here. How may I help you?” he replied politely.
I heard Zuri let out a heavy sigh of relief, and suddenly, the lights turned on. She lowered the gun and stepped back, rubbing her eyes with her right hand. “Hello, you two.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed for a plump, deep green armchair, collapsing into it with a grunt.
“Hello, my ass!” I replied. “What the fuck was that all about?”
Zuri looked at me as if she didn’t understand the question for a moment. “Oh, the gun thing? Sorry. I had to make sure it was you.”
“And you couldn’t have given me a password or something?” I shot back.
Zuri looked at me with annoyance. “My father, the patriarch of a Clan, is missing. I don’t know who knows about it, but if some of the other Clans somehow caught wind of it, they’d have sent out assassins, even hired ones from the Middle Ring. Those people are good enough that it would not be out of the realm of possibility to impersonate you, including stealing any password I could give you. Some of the people out there could copy everything, including your appearance, voice, and even status screens, but,” She pointed at my head. “I’ve yet to hear of someone capable of simultaneously impersonating a person and a digital companion. Certainly none with access to the party voice chat.”
I couldn’t fault her logic. Zuri was faced with a situation I could scarcely begin to understand. She looked incredibly on edge. I doubt I’d have acted any differently in her place. My shoulders slumped, the adrenaline of having a gun pointed at my head wearing off. “Yeah, alright, fair enough.” I looked around the room. “What is this place anyway?”
The interior of this house was almost… Pedestrian. It had a plush rug with two armchairs next to a sofa in front of an entertainment unit, a cute little kitchen, and a synthwood table with comfortable-looking chairs. All in all, a cozy home. In her black, gold, and red combat gear, Zuri stood out in this place like a sore thumb.
“A recreation of my mother’s old home.” Zuri waved at the furniture with a distant look. “Father built it as a place where we could go for a little while to escape the weight of leadership. People tend to avoid dark, abandoned neighborhoods, so nobody knows it's here.”
“I see,” I nodded and sat on the sofa, looking at Zuri. “So. You said your father is missing.”
She nodded and waved her hand, a screen appearing before us. “Yes. And he left me a message.” she turned to me with narrowed eyes. “One that mentions you.”
A chill ran down my spine. How much had Shal told her? How much did she know?
The video started playing.
Shal appeared on the screen, dressed in the layered armor that gave him the name of the Demon of the Molten Fist. He tapped on his helmet, which folded away along with the demonic visage covering his face. His head was left bare, his top knot swaying as he shook his head. He looked at the screen solemnly and sniffed once.
“Zuri. My daughter.” he began, sounding somber. “By the time you receive this message, it will have been two weeks since I’ve gone to my recreational delve. At least, that is the official story.”
He sighed and shook his head. “The truth is, daughter, that I’ve gone on a mission of vital importance, deep in the Delve-Lands. A mission that I’ve been planning for years now. Our family is under a curse. One that, unless we do something about it, will claim my life and eventually yours, the same way it claimed my Yumi’s life.”
Zuri glanced at me, gauging my reaction. I kept my face under control, not wanting to give anything away.
“You must come find me,” Shal continued. “And you need to bring Razel with you. If this mission is to succeed, he must bring the knife I gave him. The metal the knife is made of is of utmost importance for ensuring victory.”
Zuri paused the video and turned to fully face me, her eyes narrowed, her gaze almost hostile. “What is my father talking about? What do you know about all this?”
I raised my hands up placatingly. “I don’t know,” I lied. “Shal did give me a knife, but he said it was a gift.”
Zuri’s expression didn’t change. “And where is the knife now?”
Shit.
I looked at my raised right hand and activated [Apostate’s Blade], my hand turning into the black, gold sword with the glowing red holohaptic edges. With the levels it had gained from the fight at the Neon Gridlock, it had grown a couple centimeters longer.
“My arm consumed the knife to turn it into this,” I said hesitatingly. Had I unwittingly ruined Shal’s plans?
Zuri blinked at me a couple times. “Your arm did… What?” She gave [Apostate’s Arm] a weird look. “Hob, is Razel’s sword made of the same material as the knife?” I heard Zuri ask in my head.
“Yes, Miss Zuri,” Hob answered cheerfully. “The makeup of the weapon is a 100% match with the knife Patriarch Hiwara gave to Razel, although it has been reconfigured to its current form and functionality.”
Zuri nodded in satisfaction. “My father mentioned the metal is important, not the knife itself. I don’t know what he wants you to do with it, but as long as you keep your arm attached, for your sake, let’s hope that’s enough.” She resumed the video.
Shal continued, for the first time, his stoic countenance tinged with hesitation. “If a window with a countdown appears in your vision, it means I have either failed or have run out of time.” The Patriarch took a deep breath. “At that point, you’ll learn more about what we are dealing with. If that comes to pass, it is even more critical you find me. I have taken with me one-half of a very rare artifact called a [Delve Tracker]. I have attached to this video the access code for lockbox P-51 in the Delvers Guild, where you’ll find the other half. It will guide you to me. No matter what.”
“I…” Shal made to say something else before stopping himself. “No. That is enough. You have your mission, daughter. See it through. Show me what you are capable of.”
The video closed, and Zuri looked at me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her voice trembling with too many emotions to count. “We will find him, and I will shake him until he starts making sense.”
I nodded mutely. Even without Shal’s mission, she wouldn’t have even needed to ask if I’d help.
Zuri got up and stretched. “Right, then. I will meet you at the Delvers Guild in half an hour. Do you need any supplies?”
I shook my head and stood up. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll meet you there.”
She gave me a curt nod, and I left the house, getting into the car still waiting for me.
I reached the elevator doors out of the Scorched Plains in what felt like the blink of an eye. My car parked next to another identical car, and I stepped out, heading to the doors.
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I whirled around, slapping the hand away and preparing for a fight. Instead, I came face to face with a familiar face.
“You’re the butler from the Fortress?”
He nodded, his crisp suit immaculate despite our dusty surroundings.“My name is Nothak, sir. And you are correct. I am under the employ of Master Shal and Mistress Zuri.”
I narrowed my eyes at the man. “So, how can I help you, Nothak?”
“I know what you plan on doing, along with Mistress Zuri.” He said stiffly.
He knew? How? “I don’t know what you know, Nothak, but you better not get in my way,” I growled. If he snitched on us, it would make our job much, much harder.
“I am not here to stop you.”
“Then what?”
“I…” The man hesitated. He took a deep breath and looked at me, his gaze steely despite his trembling white mustache. Then, he dropped to his hands and knees and bowed deeply, his forehead pressed against the hot soil. “I beg you. Bring him home.”
My mouth went dry. I could taste bile. In the silence, Nothak looked up, his eyes full of unshed tears behind a stony face. “Please,” he whispered.
The thoughts I kept pushing aside came rushing back in. I knew Nothak asked for the impossible. The result was inevitable. Shal himself told me as much. But faced with the pain in his eyes… I couldn’t lie to him. But I couldn’t tell him the truth either. So, I said the only thing I could. The only thing that straddled the barbed line of truth and falsehood I had to walk, even if it shredded my feet step by step.
“I’ll bring him back, no matter what happens,” I croaked.
The man took another deep breath, stood up, and dusted his clothes off. He set his jaw, and the professional veneer reappeared. “Then you have my gratitude, sir.” He gave me a deep bow, turned around, and got into his car without a second glance back.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I muttered at the shrinking back of the car, the hot wind of the Scorched Plains carrying my words away.