Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Seven: ‘Bolster thine insight...’
After the one called Manuel, his next opponent was his own companion through all of this, Lenos.
Royo did not know whether that was a relief or not, but he tried to take advantage of the opportunity.
And even now, he was reluctant to simply swap intel with Lenos in an entirely candid manner. He knew that Malast was listening, at least, and while Royo didn’t think that the so-called Idle God would care about anything surreptitious they might say, he didn’t know who else might be listening. He could quite easily imagine a scenario in which Malast was allowing the defeated combatants to observe the proceedings with him.
Somehow.
Without any clear definitions regarding the extent of Malast’s power, Royo could only rely on his imagination to protect him from making any missteps in these delicate circumstances. Hopefully, it would suffice.
So he and Lenos attempted to communicate in code, as they had done two days ago and all during their time in Himmekel. They had never quite been sure that someone wasn’t just around the corner, listening. The ghosts had been of particular concern there. The goggles allowed Royo to see them, sure, but he didn’t know the extent of their capabilities or how easy it was for them to eavesdrop over large distances.
As soon as he made it out of this place, he fully intended to learn everything he could about those troublesome beings. He had a feeling that his next encounter with them wouldn’t be nearly so amicable as this one had thus far been.
“Do you really think you can become a god?” said Lenos in Hunese.
Royo paused at that question. “To be honest... no, I do not. But if there is even the slightest possibility that Malast is telling the truth, then I believe the risk is worth it.”
“What if you become someone else, like he said?”
“That would be--” Royo stopped himself and squinted at Lenos. “You understood what Malast was saying? You speak--?” And he stopped himself again, because he’d been about to say “Mohssian,” but as he thought about it, that wasn’t quite right, was it?
“What are you talking about?” said Lenos. “Of course I understood him. He spoke perfect Hunese.”
Royo met the other man’s gaze evenly. “...Did he, though?”
“Yeah, I...” Lenos seemed to be realizing what Royo just had.
At first, it had been exactly as Lenos had just said. Royo remembered getting the impression that Malast had been speaking Hunese. But when the others started talking to him as well and listening to everything he was saying, Royo somehow began thinking that he was speaking Mohssian.
But Malast hadn’t been. The Idle God hadn’t spoken either language.
Yet they had all understood him without even noticing it.
Was it some sort of telepathy? Royo didn’t think so. He distinctly recalled seeing the man’s mouth move when he spoke. But the words. What were the exact words that Malast spoke? What were the sounds that they made?
Royo genuinely didn’t know. He recalled the meaning of Malast’s words just fine, but the words themselves? They were a blur.
“He really is a god,” said Lenos. The man sounded convinced now.
Royo remained skeptical, however. Just because he did not have an immediate explanation did not mean there wasn’t one.
But he couldn’t deny that, more than ever now, he wanted to believe. If Malast truly was a god, then that might truly have been Secho’s remains in his hands. And Royo might truly be able to...
He shook his head. He needed to focus. The tournament was not yet done, and his most difficult opponents were no doubt still ahead.
“I will support you however I can,” said Lenos.
Royo blinked.
“I don’t intend to gamble with my own life any more than I have to,” said Lenos. “And I don’t have aspirations to godhood, so you go right ahead with all of this, if that’s what you want. I--”
Royo clasped his hand over the other man’s mouth. “Do not say that you surrender. Not just yet, anyway. Help me to examine the treasure in this room, first.” He pulled his hand away.
“...Alright.” Lenos eyed the glowing pile to Royo’s right, then straightened his back and sauntered over to it. “How much do you know about treasure hunting, by the way?”
Royo followed his lead. “A fair amount--though not as much as someone like Kogibur would, I suspect.”
“Heh.” Lenos didn’t remove his eyes from the treasure.
That meager reaction was more than enough of an affirmation for Royo’s suspicions. He had been wanting to confirm Lenos’ true identity as the infamous thief, Kogibur, and he was glad to have finally found the opportunity.
Royo looked over the treasure himself, but nothing here sparked immediate recognition. He’d gotten very lucky in the first round, he knew.
“I wish we could take everything here,” said Lenos.
“We will,” said Royo, and he heard Lenos snicker. “But for now, find me something that would assist me in a fight.”
“Hmm. In that case, you have your pick of this, this, and this.”
Royo examined each item that he’d pointed at but didn’t dare touch any of them yet.
The first was a small orb, translucent and very fragile-looking, though if it had survived all this time, then it was probably more durable than it appeared. When he focused, Royo could indeed sense ardor in it, bearing a decidedly unique flow. Swirling like a tiny, contained sulfur storm.
“That one, I believe, is the Sasume.”
The Piercing Eye? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “What can it do?”
“According to my information, it will either reveal the innate secrets of the world around you... or drive you mad.” A beat passed. “Or possibly both.”
Royo gave him a look.
“Hey, I wouldn’t touch it, but you? I figured, you’re already trying to fuse yourself with a god, so maybe you’re crazy enough to choose this, too.”
Royo wanted to argue, but the man had a point. And he actually wasn’t ruling out the Piercing Eye yet, either, even as he moved on to the other two. One of them was a metal rack with a pendulum in the center, and the other was a simple blue crystal. “What are these two, then?”
“The Daichigeki and the Tokets’Jigok.”
The Earthshock and the Frozen Hell. Intrigued as he was by those names, Royo didn’t like what they implied.
“The Daichigeki is said to be able to rend the ground beneath one’s feet and even cause earthquakes powerful enough to bring down buildings. And the Tokets’Jigoku is said to be capable of freezing anything it touches.”
Royo didn’t normally hate being right. “...So they would both kill me, is what you are saying.”
“Mm, well, presumably, there is a safe way of using them, but... yeah, they do seem pretty dangerous.”
More than just seemed, Royo felt. In the Undercrust, an earthquake was one of the most deadly and unpredictable events imaginable. An item which could instigate them would certainly be powerful, but to Royo’s mind, there existed no conceivable method by which an earthquake could be controlled. Not down here. And he didn’t intend to die to falling rocks that he had caused to fall. A more idiotic end, Royo could hardly imagine.
As for the blue crystal, a Hun’Kui trying to harness the power of ice was not much more appealing. Theoretically, of course, it could be very strong, but one misstep while attempting to acquaint himself with the crystal’s exact functionality, and that would spell the end for him. It was akin to an insect trying to figure how to properly use pesticide. He had no real knowledge base from which to operate or available safety precautions to take.
“These are both worthless,” Royo decided.
“I suppose if they weren’t, they wouldn’t just be sitting here,” said Lenos. “That caped Hun’Sho bastard would probably be using them himself, hmm?”
“Indeed.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance.” Lenos started grabbing light diamonds in order to stuff them into his unfortunately small pockets.
Royo, however, had not given up. His gaze fell upon the Piercing Eye once again.
The secrets of the world against the threat of going mad? Compared to the other two items, the Eye’s risk was at least somewhat appealing.
And the more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder, was that truly the gamble? Could any object really cause someone to go mad? Just like that?
And even if it could do that, would it?
Would it be possible to resist its influence? With a strong enough mind, perhaps? A strong enough will?
Royo saw sense in that logic--and more frighteningly even to himself, he saw potential in it.
It was a risk, of course. There was no doubt about that. But was it a risk worthy of himself? Of his ambition?
Stolen novel; please report.
Royo hesitated. He hesitated as he had done only a handful of times in his entire life.
This feeling. Terror and uncertainty mixed together. He’d felt it before. Like teetering on the brink of both life and sanity.
He had no way of truly knowing what would happen if he grabbed the Piercing Eye, right now. No way of knowing what would become of him. Of his own mind.
And yet, he was genuinely considering doing it, anyway.
Because he had to. He needed to take a risk here. If his next opponent was one of the supermen, or Seyos perhaps, then what would he do? He had managed to take the one called Manuel by surprise, but he doubted it would be so easy with the Senmurai and the one called Diego. The Senmurai in particular had seemed determined to stop him earlier and would no doubt be on his guard.
And somehow, Royo did not think that his current three artifacts would be enough. The Sword of Hamenszoon and this unnamed glove of strength were both useful enough, but they certainly didn’t make him invincible; and he still did not know what power dwelled within the Boots of Karugetti, despite having examined them with his ardor sense.
If he wanted the power of a god, he first required the power to win this tournament.
Yes.
That was the dreadful truth of it, Royo felt. He would be both a coward and a fool not to acknowledge his own weakness when the potential to do something about it was sitting right in front of him.
He grit his teeth and took a deep breath.
He grabbed the Piercing Eye with his bare hand.
The effect was immediate. Not quite pain but something like it. Extreme displeasure. Invasive unsettlement. All throughout his mind. Consuming his world, his thoughts, his memories, his everything. He could feel himself panicking, and involuntarily, he let go of the Eye.
He rushed back into himself all at once, wide-eyed and struggling for breath. On his hands and knees now, he needed time. Time to realize that he was still there. Still present. Still sane.
Well, as much as he had been before, at least.
Lenos was saying something, and Royo tried to say something reassuring, but he wasn’t really listening to himself. He was still focused on the Eye. That ordeal had been torture of a manner he had never before experienced.
But he’d seen something in it. The barest glimpse. As if the whole world were a blanket, and for but a moment, he had been granted a look at what was beneath it.
He was going to do it again.
“Step back,” said Royo, removing Lenos’ hand from his shoulder.
Lenos did not give up, however. “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t--!”
Royo shoved him away and grabbed the Eye again.
His brain was marginally more prepared this time. The battering of sensations hit him like a wave, and again, he felt the same panic from before. But he retained enough of presence of mind now to stop his hand from letting go, to override bodily instinct with force of will.
It got worse.
He lost space. He lost time. He was losing himself. But he saw it again. The blanket. The veil. He put his hand forward--or some crackling, imagined representation of his hand, at least--and tried to grasp the veil. It was already partly peeled back. He just had to pull it the rest of the way.
And so he did.
He regained space. He regained time. He regained himself.
But the storm all around him did not cease. Still, it pummeled him, his mind, with so many sensations and emotions and distractions that he couldn’t even distinguish them from one another before they were replaced by something else, something newer, better, terrifying, worrying, encouraging, mortifying, ecstatic, dull, soul-crushing--
Endless.
It was folly to engage with it. He had to keep himself. Himself. His own mind. His own focus. These emotions were not his own. They were external. They were sorcery. Witchcraft. Whatever. It didn’t matter what they were. They didn’t matter. Only he mattered.
Him and the world around him. The real world.
And through it all, the swirling and somehow visible mayhem of emotions, he could see what he wanted to see.
Lenos, standing right next to him.
But of course, his name was not truly Lenos. And it was not Kogibur, either. The man didn’t have a name. At least, not one that was given to him by his mother. Because the man had never known his mother. Or his father, for that matter. He’d been an orphan of the Higher West Layer, as Royo himself had been. He had been treated with contempt in the community home in which he had grown up. He had been lastingly scarred by that experience, to the point of trusting none but himself. And a woman. In his adolescence. A woman who then betrayed him for money.
It could be no surprise, then, that Lenos did not fully trust Royo now. And that was not mere suspicion on Royo’s part. He knew that Lenos had reservations about him. He could see it, as clearly as he could see the man’s face.
But he could also see that Lenos did trust him a little. Which was more than Royo would have expected, quite frankly.
And it didn’t stop. Royo could see still more. Wavering and fleeting feelings, hovering around Lenos, whispering about his soul and his past. A job he’d taken. A mentor he’d had. Threads of his life woven together into a grand web that was as easy to navigate as it was to think. Royo had only to look where he wanted, consider what he wanted, and Lenos’ knowledge was Royo’s knowledge.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” said Lenos through the howling storm. His voice sounded perfectly calm, apparently not bothered to be standing in the midst of a hellish vortex.
Royo was very much not sure that he was okay, however. He was beginning to feel a kind of exhaustion he had never felt before. His head was tired, though the rest of his body was not. It wasn’t quite dizziness or light-headedness, exactly.
He decided to put the Eye back down again.
The storm dissipated almost immediately, as did the web of knowledge around Lenos.
Royo was beginning to understand how it worked. “I am fine,” he finally said, trying not to sound haggard. “Can you find something for me to carry this item in?”
“Ah, okay, let me have a look around.”
Royo tried wrapping his green scarf around the Eye before picking it up again, but as he expected, it did nothing to prevent the object’s power from activating.
Royo let Lenos search in silence. He focused on controlling his breathing as he tried to take mental stock of himself.
He was fairly certain that he was still sane. And his memories--there were no notable gaps, as far as he could tell. Childhood, adolescence, adulthood. All there.
And perhaps most importantly, he still felt the same. Confidence bordering on arrogance? Check. Ambition that approached delusional psychosis? Yeah, that was there, too.
He supposed his gamble had paid off, after all.
It had been a while since he’d felt such a strong sense of relief.
Now all that was left to do was begin testing the limits of the Eye. Its usage obviously took an exhaustive toll, so it would be best if he could somehow determine the most efficient duration to keep it active, he felt. And of course, he still wanted to know exactly how informative the Eye could be. Was it only personal histories? Or was there--?
“Eleyo!”
A gunshot rang out, and Royo turned to see Seyos there, already attacking the both of them with giant red hands.
Royo swiped the Eye and dove out of the way, only for the hand to follow him and clobber him square in the chest. The impact added to his momentum and sent him toppling over himself through the air until he hit the ground and skidded up against a wall.
The wind was knocked out of him, and possibly a rib was broken, but there was no time to worry about that, he knew. The hand was still pursuing him.
He activated the Sword of Hamenszoon and rolled out of the way.
The hand stopped in midair, suddenly not knowing where to go.
This invisible respite wouldn’t last long, though. He had to make the most of it. The Piercing Eye was already active, and though the combination of the Sword’s visual effects added to the Eye’s created just about the most confusing thing Royo had ever looked at, his only concern right now was Seyos. And in that regard, the Eye was not letting him down.
Former royalty among the Hun’Sho. Scarred eternally by what the Hun’Kui had done to his people. Transformed them. Into worms? The Sludge Sickness.
Royo was able to perceive that much in an instant, but there was much more there--darker thoughts, dwelling more deeply within. But Royo didn’t need to know the man’s life story, right now. He needed to know how to kill him.
And so the Eye revealed it to him.
A core in his chest. Seyos’ heart.
Royo didn’t wait. He pulled his pistol, aimed for it, and fired.
He was off the target, though. At this distance, the core was too small of an object to hit, and the flaming bullet instead pierced Seyos’ right lung.
And Royo knew that, somehow. The Eye was telling him.
He didn’t have time to be impressed, though. He’d given away his position with that gunshot. He bolted left as a giant hand crashed down on the spot where he’d just been standing.
The hand. Royo’s gaze lingered on it long enough for the Eye to reveal its nature to him.
One of the Fists of Enkir. A gloved artifact imbued with the properties of a magma golem. It could stretch and even grow far beyond its perceived physical size. It also burned to the touch--and would have to Royo, if Hun’Kui weren’t so resilient to heat. Crafted 1,527 years ago by Arigas, whoever that was.
Interesting, Royo thought as he ran.
But if it worked on the Fists, then wait. Could it also...?
He looked at his own boots. The Boots of Karugetti.
They maintained their momentum in accordance with the wearer’s will. Crafted 363 years ago by Arkos.
A much shorter and simpler description than the Fists, and in the heat of the moment, Royo was having trouble conceptualizing what it meant.
One of the hands had Lenos in its grip now, he noticed, and the other was pursuing him again. The Sword’s invisibility had faded.
Royo activated its illusion power. Three copies of himself shot off in separate directions, mimicking his same running posture. He made sure to zigzag to add to the confusion, then aimed his gun again and fired. This time, it hit exactly where he wanted to, as the target was nearer and larger.
The hand that had Lenos exploded at the wrist when the bullet cut through it, and Lenos was free again. The man fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, however, not moving.
Royo pulled the trigger two more times, aiming for Seyos himself again, but there was some sort of shield there, now. The Shield of Hamenszoon, the Piercing Eye told him.
An artifact capable of absorbing any projectile under a weight of seventy grams. Crafted 792 years ago by Hamenszoon.
Royo growled to himself as the Sword’s copies faded. He would have to reload soon, and he didn’t have that many bullets left.
He needed to get in close. If he could do that, he could end this in an instant.
Royo activated the Sword again and tried to circle around to Seyos’ backside.
Seyos pulled out a pair of artifacts, and Royo identified them immediately.
The Twin Blades of Boros. Small swords which were capable of guiding even an amateur swordsman’s hand toward the vital points of his desired opponent. Exceptionally deadly at close range. Crafted 33 years ago by Luann.
With that knowledge, Royo backed off again and sent out an extra wave of copies.
Where was he keeping all these damn things?
The Deceiver’s Cloak. An artifact which allowed access to several small pocket dimensions. Crafted 4,612 years ago by Skapa.
Ah.
He didn’t want to fire his pistol again and give away his position. At the moment, the best course of action to his mind was to wait for the Sword’s invisibility to recharge. It would only take a few minutes, if he could hold out that long.
He seemed to be relatively safe as long as he kept multiple copies afoot. Running around the room in circles was especially helpful in that regard, because all of his copies mimicked his behavior, and by choosing the correct pressure point on the Sword, Royo was able to have as many as eight of himself all running counterclockwise around Seyos.
It was clearly pissing Seyos off as well, which was a nice bonus.
Royo took the opportunity to examine the Sword. While he already had a working knowledge of it, he wanted to be sure he hadn’t missed anything.
The Sword of Hamenszoon. An artifact capable of producing illusions based on the wielder. Crafted 794 years ago by Hamenszoon.
Huh. Surprisingly uninformative.
Royo tried looking harder, wanting the Eye to provide him more detail.
The Eye did so, spelling out the exact function of each one of the Sword’s pressure points, as well as informing him that they required manipulable soul power to do so. And as Royo had already discovered, seven copies was indeed the maximum number of illusions that the Sword could produce at one time.
The Piercing Eye was even so generous as to tell him the precise amount of time remaining before the invisibility was fully recharged. One minute, forty-eight seconds, and counting.
That was better. Royo was satisfied.
Movement from Seyos drew Royo’s attention again, and he was ready to identify the next artifact.
It was a small cube, small enough to fit in Seyos’ molten palm.
The Box of Perdition, the Eye told him. An artifact capable of producing explosions with a range of up to 750 meters. Crafted--
What?
Royo skipped the last part and instead pushed for more detail.
The Box had to be set on a timer with as little as fifteen seconds or as long as fifteen minutes. The blast would not harm the box itself but could still produce a force of up to five tons.
This was a very large problem.
Royo knew he couldn’t wait any longer and went on the offensive. All seven clones of himself followed suit, converging on Seyos simultaneously.
One of the illusions disappeared to a pointless attack from Seyos, and Royo caught a glimpse of the jewel around Seyos’ neck.
The Pendant of Unso. An artifact capable of teleporting the wearer to a set of predetermined locations. Crafted 1,341 years ago by Unso.
Royo understood as well as he could in the split second he had to perceive it. Seyos meant to activate the Box and teleport to safety.
That wasn’t going to happen.
Royo went for the Pendant first but found the Shield of Hamenszoon in the way. That was fine. Royo let go of his pistol, knowing it would be unnecessary at this range, and grabbed the Shield with his gloved hand. He had still yet to examine that glove, but he knew its power well enough.
He put all his strength into his grip, and his fingers dug into the Shield like teeth into flesh. The Shield cracked and snapped in two.
Seyos looked surprised, and Royo took the opening to go straight for the man’s heart. Seyos jolted away from him, though, and then they were struggling at such close range that they were nearly wrestling.
One of the Twin Blades of Boros arose with Seyos’ left hand, and Royo only just managed to twist himself out its path before it could plunge into his own heart. He still received a long gash across his chest, which was most certainly painful but not enough so make to him lose focus.
The Deceiver’s Cloak swirled as Seyos did, obscuring Royo’s vision. Royo sent out another fresh wave of the Sword’s copies and dove to the side. A slash from another Twin Blade vanished one of the illusions, and Royo saw another opening. His glove found Seyos’ left arm and crushed it. One of the Twin Blades dropped from his grip, but the Hun’Sho did not so much as flinch. The other Twin Blade came straight for Royo’s neck and narrowly broke upon the Sword of Hamenszoon--so narrowly, in fact, that Royo felt a shallow cut below his left ear.
Royo shoved himself forward and slammed his body into Seyos, knocking him off balance. The Cloak swirled again, but Royo still roughly knew where the man’s neck was and went for it. Pressing through the Cloak, he found it with his glove.
He crushed it without hesitation.
Seyos staggered back but didn’t fall. He was still moving, though not normally. The one remaining Twin Blade swung vainly at thin air, and Seyos’ molten head sagged grotesquely to one side, apparently too heavy for his broken neck.
The fight was more or less over now, it seemed. There was no point in prolonging things, Royo felt.
He sent one more wave of illusions from the Sword and approached Seyos from the side. He stabbed the man through the chest and then wrenched it open in order to dig into Seyos’ body with his glove.
There it was. The core.
Seyos said something incomprehensible, more wheezing than words.
Royo barely noticed. He crushed the core, too.
Immediately, the entire world around him shifted.
At first, he thought it was Malast teleporting him again, but when he saw the raw vortex around Seyos suddenly grow to ten times its previous intensity, Royo realized this was the work of the Piercing Eye.