Changing Faces (New Game Minus Book 1)

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Changing Faces (New Game Minus Book 1) Page 13

by Sarah Lin


  "Hey there!" Danniah waved with her free arm as she entered. "Working hard?"

  "Yes," Bloodwraith answered flatly. Danniah stared at him, as if confused by his brusqueness.

  "You seem kinda down, Raigar. I mean, you're always a serious type, but you seem extra down."

  In response he just grunted. Unfortunately, Danniah came closer, settled her shield on the ground, and leaned forward on it to look at him.

  "Guess you don't wanna talk, huh?"

  He nearly called her an imbecile, but his heart wasn't in it. His movements slowed and after a time, he dismissed the boxes and leaned on his sword. "Why do you want to be an adventurer, Danniah?"

  "Gosh. That's a big question." She blinked at him for a while. "I mean... it's kinda fun, and I'm good at it. But that's because of how I grew up, maybe? Maybe that's because I had to do a lot of things for my mother. Carrying stuff, or-"

  "Not like that. Is it just for fun, or are you working toward some goal?"

  "Oh, that's what you meant! If I ever get an awful lot of money, I was thinking of making an opposite Thieves Guild or something."

  Bloodwraith stared at her a moment, then returned to his practice. Since he needed a distraction from the painfully slow progress, he decided to indulge her a little longer. "What does that mean? You sneak into people's houses and give money back to them?"

  Danniah laughed heartily, nearly falling over before catching herself on her shield. She wiped her eyes several times before answering. "Heehee, no. What I mean is that the Thieves Guild is the only group that really pays attention to orphans. In a city like this, there are a bunch of people without parents, you know? Most of them have really hard lives, and the only one who will take them in is the Thieves Guild. But they just want to recruit the good ones to use them. I wanna make some kind of Children's Guild, to take care of them and give them another option."

  "You mean an orphanage?"

  "Yeah, that's the word! Thanks!" Danniah beamed at him. "Except I don't want to just take care of them. I was thinking that some of them would be good at things, just like at the Thieves Guild. So they could become merchants or adventurers or something instead of thieves. But that would take an awful lot of money, so it's just a silly idea for now."

  "Not necessarily. There's potential there." No doubt many of the orphans were the spawn of adventurers, so they would have potential as well. It would be a slow development, but one could slowly gain control of increasing pieces of the city by pursuing such a path. In a couple of decades the orphans would become a valuable fighting force, and conditions could be kept the same to ensure a continuing supply of orphans.

  "Wow, you're the first person who didn't tell me the idea was silly! I really want to try someday, because I like helping people. I'm glad you feel the same way, Raigar!"

  "...yes. Nothing like helping people."

  He hoped that would be enough conversation for Danniah to leave him alone so he could go back to increasing his statistics. She usually came here to practice with her shield and had asked him to help her with her bashing skill a few times. Unfortunately, she kept lingering nearby, watching him.

  "Raigar..." Danniah leaned in further, staring up at him. "What's your reason for becoming an adventurer? What's your dream?"

  Was this supposed to be a personal moment? Bloodwraith looked down and saw how she was looking at him. Combining the slight flush in her cheeks, her comments in the sauna, and her behavior in general... only an idiot couldn't see what was happening.

  Normally he would have felt revulsion, but Bloodwraith simply felt tired. He had too many conflicting feelings, made all the worse by the complications of the boxes. Was he truly interacting with reality, or could he only touch it through the manipulations of incomprehensible beings from another world? Compared to all of that, Danniah seemed only a minor annoyance, not worth any anger or disgust.

  "I don't know." He hadn't expected to answer honestly and cursed Raigar's meaty warrior skull. Too late to take the words back, he needed to cut his losses. "I feel like I need to experience more of life before I can decide on a real goal."

  "That's okay, Raigar! I'll help you find one!" As he looked down at Danniah's grinning face, Bloodwraith felt irritation... at the fact that she kept calling him Raigar. But that was a subject he definitely couldn't touch. Shaking his head, he straightened and returned his greatsword to his back.

  "Thanks. Sorry, but I realized that there's something I need to do before noon."

  "Aww, okay. Come back and we can practice some more sometime!"

  Bloodwraith just waved and let her think it was an acknowledgment. He got out of the Guild as soon as possible, then out of the entire area regularly inhabited by adventurers. Once he was surrounded by ordinary peasants, he could think a little more clearly.

  The boxes didn't leave him alone, however, and he wasn't here to waste time. Instead, he headed to the usual potion-maker's stall. An old woman ran it who he had decided wasn't completely insufferable. Her assignments had been straightforward, given decent EXP, and she hadn't wasted his time talking.

  But the real reason he bothered with her was to build his "Herbalism" skill. The only magic ring he possessed increased that skill, and items that could be turned into potions seemed common, so it would be a waste to ignore it. Over the past several days he'd increased the level of Herbalism to 5 before he seemed to hit a wall, but that was enough that he could brew simple health potions.

  Today it seemed like the old woman was in her usual place, but negotiating with a group of adventurers. Since he had no desire to talk to them, Bloodwraith stayed back, leaning against a nearby building until they went away. Hopefully he wouldn't wait for long.

  "Hello, adventurer." Something about the voice made him jolt and instantly look toward the source.

  Meara stood beside him.

  She'd changed her clothes entirely, replacing the skirt and bustier for a cloak that entirely obscured her body, though she had the hood down. Her hair fell flatter than before, as if some of the life had gone out of it. Though he didn't see any of the manic tension in her eyes from before, he didn't like the uncertain emotions he saw there, either.

  His staring at her prompted a box to come up, but it was just garbled gibberish. Bloodwraith willed it aside with a mutter and forced himself to refocus. "Why are you here, Meara?"

  "I found a small village. Tried to use my skills to build a new life there." She turned aside from him, wrapping her arms around herself. "I couldn't." She didn't say any more. With anyone else, he would have ignored them, but...

  "Why? Your skills no longer work?"

  Meara snorted. "Oh, they worked. The problem is in my head. Something isn't right. With our world. With me. I can't put my finger on it. But I feel like I have a connection to you. Not in a mushy sense, but like there's a chain I can't break."

  Bloodwraith folded his arms and stared at her. The box appeared again, but he couldn't understand it. Every other box had been written in a familiar script, even foreign names like "Rhil'lahan," but Meara's was incomprehensible. As he looked, the box itself seemed to flicker in a way that made him uncomfortable.

  "Is that all? You're just going to stare at me?"

  "I'm not sure what to do. You walked away from me, now you walk back?" Bloodwraith swallowed his irritation and tried to consider the situation logically. "You and I are the only ones who know that something from outside our reality is tampering with it. If you want to help me understa-"

  "No." Meara winced and rubbed her forehead. "Thinking about that hurts. I wish I could just go back to being a peasant girl, but..." She trailed off, shuddering and casting her eyes down.

  Though Bloodwraith waited a while longer, but it became clear that no answer was forthcoming. More than anything, that irritated him. Meara was potentially the only person who could help him, yet she had become this whimpering wreck? He didn't have time to help her recover, not with the crypt assignment in just two days.

  "I ha
ve things I need to do, Meara." He turned away from her, but she caught his arm.

  "Wait! Please... I think you might be the only person who can help me. You were trapped in a pattern with me, but you broke it. Without help, I think... I'm not sure, but maybe... if... if..."

  "Don't try to play to my compassion." Bloodwraith grabbed her wrist and forced her to let go. "I don't have any."

  She stared up at him and for a moment he thought she would begin crying. But instead, he saw her eyes go flat. After staring at him for a time, she reached into her cloak and withdrew something: a small vial filled with orange liquid. "You only care about people who are useful to you, is that it? Then try this."

  His instinct was to take the vial, but he stopped himself, instead examining it first.

  [Failed Potion

  An improperly brewed potion.

  Durability: -5/10

  Rarity: N/A]

  Bloodwraith took it, because at least the glass had a little value. He opened his mouth to say that it was worthless, but to his surprise Meara cut him off with an unpleasant smile.

  "Everyone at the village told me it was worthless. I was hoping you'd be different."

  With that, Meara turned away and pushed into the crowds. He tracked her for some distance until she pulled her hood up and disappeared into an alleyway. To his surprise, he felt a moment's instinct to tell her that it wasn't safe there, but he suppressed it. Just another of Raigar's instincts.

  The encounter left him frustrated, especially with the cold glass in his hand as a reminder. Bloodwraith examined the potion more carefully, but the boxes never displayed anything different. Why did it have "durability" at all, much less a negative number? When he compared it to a normal potion, then one he had created, only Meara's potion had anything like that. Was that simply how failed potions looked, or was this another incomprehensible whim of the box gods?

  Thoughts of Meara frustrated him for the rest of the day, so he threw himself into practicing herbalism and swordplay. Though he didn't make any great advances, at least the little numbers in the boxes went up. It was better than his utterly futile efforts with Meara or Danniah.

  The next day, he returned to the smithy in an even worse mood. Though he had mostly put the frustrating issues aside, he had a bad feeling that he would be given another excuse. This time he wouldn't let the smith off so easily: he only had one more day and he needed that sword.

  But when he entered, Haral immediately smiled, set down his tongs, and moved to a long cabinet. "Good timing, adventurer. This turned out better than I expected." He carefully lifted the lodestone greatsword from the cabinet, then turned and presented it to him. "Hand over your current weapon and it's yours. You're getting a good deal on this."

  As Bloodwraith absentmindedly gave up his old greatsword, he examined the new one again. The statistics hadn't changed, aside from the durability being 97/100 now. That would do, given that his other sword had lasted fairly well.

  There wasn't room to swing without breaking something in the shop, but Bloodwraith still lifted it and tested it a little. Yes, this sword would do. More importantly, he felt his body's natural mana begin to flow away from him. The "Mana Capacity" the boxes spoke of seemed to be aptly named.

  "Heh, not much to say?" Haral shook his head and moved away. "I suppose you want to try it out. Come back if you need any more equipment fixed, you hear?"

  Bloodwraith nodded absentmindedly as he left the shop. The new sword didn't fit quite perfectly in the latch on his back, but it would be close enough with a bit of work. All that really mattered was seeing if his theory was correct. He walked faster as he headed toward the city gates.

  As he did so, he kept an eye on the boxes for himself and the sword. Several points of mana siphoned over to the greatsword before he stopped them and waited in frustration for his own to regenerate. Even outside of the Forest, his health regenerated faster than would be natural for a fighter, but his mana regeneration was pathetic compared to that of a trained sorcerer. And that was out of combat, as the boxes' rules about that hadn't changed.

  Still, by the time he had left the city, the sword had been filled. It didn't seem any stronger for that - such a weapon would have been too much to hope for - but it did hum with extra mana. At minimum, he could use it to store additional mana. But he hoped for more...

  When he found a good place, Bloodwraith stood in front of a boulder and closed his eyes. He carefully raised his hand over his shoulder and unlatched his sword, slowly raising it over his head. Once he would have been uncomfortable with the movements, but after enough practice they were familiar. Not as familiar as his old spellcasting habits... but those were the ones he was hoping could help him now.

  Though it was difficult to gain proper awareness of the mana within himself and within the sword, that might not matter. The boxes did everything impersonally, and the idiotic "Fist of Rage" had always just emerged from him like he'd chosen it from a list. In theory...

  Abruptly Bloodwraith swung down, willing his sword to strike with more than just physical force. He opened his eyes just before he struck and let the mana surge from the sword instead of his body. It struck the boulder with a small explosion, gouging out a large chunk of rock.

  Smiling, Bloodwraith examined his boxes again. No damage to the sword, and the mana had all come from it. This wasn't quite as good as fusing together a spell and a blade, but it was unquestionably more powerful than just swinging around a chunk of iron. He was proud of himself for developing-

  [New Skill Acquired: Sword of Rage!

  Starting Level: 1

  EXP +250]

  "Sword of Rage? Is this a cruel jest?" The box did not respond, of course, no matter how much he sourly glared at it. They had asked him for his own name, why did they insist on naming his skills? He could call it whatever he wanted in his head, of course, but the boxes would always refer to it as "Sword of Rage" no matter what he did.

  But this time, his anger didn't last for long. Regardless of the name, this skill was useful. More importantly, it made him a more unified warrior instead of a brute with a random selection of skills. This was a significant step.

  He only had one day to practice the skill before he would need to use it in the crypt. Bloodwraith knew he'd be ready.

  Chapter 10

  On the day of their assignment, everyone was on time for once. They met in the lowest level of the Adventurers Guild, each adventurer fully equipped. It seemed most of them had slightly different armor, not that it made much difference. Only the new mana sphere Khassfhit was carrying caught Bloodwraith's attention at all, and that was just a simple upgrade.

  Still, it would have to be enough. Tension had been rising between the Adventurer's Guild and Daek the Knife, so their success was needed to smooth things over.

  When they arrived at the Thieves Guild, Bloodwraith had expected Daek to meet them, but they didn't even enter. Instead, a group of greencloaks took them to a different point in the city. They said next to nothing, but the adventurers weren't in the mood to talk, not with so much danger pending.

  At last they reached the crypt itself, which had to be accessed through the basement of an abandoned building. According to the research he had done, it connected elsewhere in the city too, which was why it was so much of a problem. Of course, a real solution would have been to dominate the will of all the monsters within, or replace them with obedient undead, but just killing everything in the place would work too.

  The door was an ancient one, but when the leader of the greencloaks placed a stone plate into a depression, it opened smoothly enough. Once it was open, the man turned back to them. "The first hallway is cleared and we think most of the rooms along it were looted by other adventurers. But no promises. And beyond that, anything goes."

  "It should be nothing we can't handle." Rhil'lahan looked down his nose at the greencloak. "You'll stay here to provide support?"

  "Hell no, we want nothing to do with the place. The rest i
s up to you - don't get killed." The greencloak shoved the stone plate at Rhil'lahan and left with the others, leaving them alone in front of the yawning doorway.

  They stood in silence for a while, regarding it. Herena seemed a bit nervous, while Khassfhit was clearly thinking of arcane treasures. Bloodwraith mainly thought about how strange it was to be doing this from the other side. It had always been frustrating when adventurers tried to invade his crypt. Of course, this one had been unoccupied for years, so their work should be much easier.

  At last, Danniah spoke up. "Well... nothing to do but go in, I guess. I'll go first, watch my back!"

  "Exactly." Rhil'lahan realized that he needed to assert control quickly and stepped forward, giving orders over his shoulder. "Danniah, stay in front and block anything that tries to attack us. I'll take the right flank, Raigar can go on the left. Khassfhit - stay alert, but you'd better not use any fireballs in these tunnels. Herena, we'll be relying on you to keep us fighting. This could be a long job."

  They made their way down the corridor carefully, illuminated by light from Khassfhit and Herena. Every time they reached a side room, they checked carefully to avoid being flanked from behind, but their information proved accurate. All threats had been eliminated and all items looted.

  Despite the tension, that actually made things a bit boring. Bloodwraith found himself examining irrelevant details, like how relatively clean the corridors were. The crypt was in good shape, for a place that had supposedly been abandoned for so long.

  Might this be a manipulation of the box gods, an artificial challenge like the wolf cave with its inexplicable chest? If so, that troubled him, because he hadn't expected anything like that outside the Forest of Beginnings. Then again, he had been strongly recommended to come here by the guides who met him, and Meara had sent him toward this quest in particular. Perhaps he would find an artificial road laid out for him, if he stuck close to the path.

 

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