“I’d rather die than hurt you, Gus...”
Something welled up inside of me, expanding like a balloon, and I started to hiccup uncontrollably. I felt so uncool.
I’d wanted to accept death. It wasn’t like I hadn’t gone through it before.
“If this is important to you,” I hiccupped again, “that’s all I care about.”
Gus was still just lingering there in silence, not casting anything. I smiled awkwardly at him.
“You can kill me. I’m not afraid to die.” Forcing my lips into a tight smile, I tried to act as stoic as I could. I couldn’t let my death be unsightly. I was Gus’s apprentice.
“J-Just try not to make it hurt too much... please...”
Slowly... Gus approached me. I clenched my quivering hands. He reached out, and held a palm over my head. I closed my eyes tightly, and the next thing I heard—
“Ahh, sorry, boy! I went a bit too far, didn’t I?! Hah hah hah!” Gus spoke and laughed in a loud, exaggerated voice, and pretended to stroke my head with his translucent hand.
“Huh...?” I was shocked.
“It looks like I win! I did have the terrain advantage, though. Come on, pick yourself up. I know, I spooked you, but it’s not all bad. You got some valuable experience in what a battle with a mage is like, didn’t you?”
This couldn’t have been a lesson, and that wasn’t what was shocking me. No—it was because Gus was trying to pretend that this had all been a lesson.
His voice was the proof. He was never normally this loud or voluble. Why? Had emotion gotten the better of him? Was that possible, for someone of Gus’s caliber? No way. But then... why?
“Gus...”
“Now, now, we can talk later! You defeated a vraskus and even obtained a spear. Blood will be over the moon! Now let’s not dawdle any longer in this vexatious place. Come along, Will!” Gus was being incredibly verbose.
“Oh, I know!” he said, far too brightly. “I bet you were impressed by that double and triple casting! Now, tricks like that are bad manners, but in the heat of battle, you’re better served knowing them. I’ll teach you things like that as well from now on. How does that sound? Come on, cheer up, won’t you? Please?”
My face must have looked awful at that point in time, but right now, even Gus looked like he might have been about to cry.
There were definitely mysteries surrounding this city, the three, and my background. Blood would probably tell me everything before I was fifteen.
The day for light to be shed on all these mysteries was fast approaching.
◆
The days that followed the Gus incident were no different than the days that had come before. Even after I made it to the exit with Gus and reunited with Blood, I didn’t breathe a single word to him about our fight. I trusted Gus, and if he wasn’t going to disclose it to Blood, there must be worthy reason why.
Of course, that meant I was hiding something, so I might have acted a little strangely. But I had been thrown into a den of the undead, and had only just come back from that altogether crazy training, having spent half a day there. A little bit of strange behavior was easily misinterpreted by Blood and Mary as the effects of fear and tension which hadn’t yet worn off.
To add to that, as it turned out, a vraskus skeleton actually spelled quite a bit of trouble. As Gus reported to Blood how my training had gone, and got to the part where I had to fight a vraskus, Blood gave a hum of understanding and tried to cheer me up, saying it was no wonder Gus had needed to jump in and help me. He didn’t sound like he’d even considered the possibility that I might have won by myself.
Gus told him that I beat it on my own, and Blood’s jaw dropped. Literally. His entire bottom jaw fell off and dropped to the ground. The sight of Blood in a fluster trying to fit his jawbone back on was pretty surreal.
Was a vraskus really that much of a problem? It had seemed several times less powerful than Blood to me, but maybe it was weak compared to what they were usually like for some reason. Yet as far as I’d been taught, the abilities and skills of the undead never changed from how they’d been in life.
“Umm, how difficult an opponent is a vraskus to you, Blood?”
“Hm? Me?” he replied, folding his arms behind his head. “I could just charge straight in there and lop its head off.”
Huh. Then a vraskus wasn’t very strong after all. Blood had just been underestimating me slightly, or thinking I wouldn’t be able to achieve my full potential in an actual battle.
“Then I still have a long way to go. I can’t rest easy just ’cause I beat a vraskus.” If you get full of yourself every time you get the slightest bit stronger, you’re just setting yourself up for a fall. I had to rein it in.
Blood and Gus both made strange faces after hearing that comment, and mumbled, “Yeah,” and “Indeed,” and other indistinct things I couldn’t make out.
Hm. I felt like I was laboring under some huge misunderstanding.
With my confusion unresolved, the conversation moved on to the spoils of battle. I’d spotted old coins and ornaments underground, but due to the hassle of carrying them, the only thing I’d brought back was that single short spear. It was my first battle trophy, and the three of them showed great interest in it. We all looked at it together, and spent a while discussing its various aspects.
The blade of the spear was straight, double-edged, and reasonably long. Together with the shaft, it made for a spear that was longer than I was tall.
The curved point of the blade was long, and there was a straight temper line dividing the blade from the rest of the metal. The steel shone with a cold and brilliant light. The base of the blade, where it joined the shaft, was pinched inwards on both sides. Blood liked the look, calling it quite seductive.
The shaft was a tasteful dark brown. According to Mary, it was made of walnut. A bronze ring with a Word engraved in it was set at the base of the blade.
Overall, it was a functional spear, seemingly of dwarven make. However, the fact that all the nonessential elements had been pared away gave it a beauty and impact of its own.
The dark color of the handle contrasted impressively with the steel blade, gleaming a bright white as it reflected the light. When I thought about how this was my weapon I started getting a little excited, which was unusual for me. So much so that I couldn’t help myself from grabbing it and taking it to the garden to practice swings and form.
It’s a fact of life, as embarrassing as it is to admit, that all men long to have something of their very own that they can obsess over, be it a weapon, a car, or whatever else. I was sure that any male would be able to understand this feeling.
Gus looked at the spear in close detail with me, while re-explaining what to look for. After careful inspection, we found that this spear was known as Pale Moon. The blade and the shaft had both been endowed with magical effects through the Words of Creation.
On the blade, there were Words to augment its ability to penetrate and sever, and Words to protect it against wear and destruction. In addition, a Word based on Lumen was engraved there, making the blade serve also as a source of illumination with adjustable range and brightness. It didn’t seem like it could shine brightly enough to blind an enemy, but it was certainly enough for lighting my way through the dark. No need for a torch, then.
The handle, meanwhile, in addition to the same Words for strength and quality retention, was engraved with Words pertaining to the contraction and expansion of matter. It appeared that its length could be adjusted, to a limited extent, over the span of a few minutes, while still preserving the material’s hardness and toughness. It couldn’t suddenly be extended in the middle of a fight, but it could be used as a pike if the situation called for it. As a short spear, it could be carried into small spaces.
They weren’t flashy effects like fire or shock waves, but each was undeniably useful. I could think of endless ways to use this thing.
This was amazing. It really was amazing. It was a real magic weapon! An
d it was mine! I got even more carried away, testing out a whole different range of lengths, seeing what they felt like to swing, and polishing the spear repeatedly even though it wasn’t dirty. The three—Blood and Gus in particular—watched me with very warm eyes.
◆
The days after that passed peacefully.
Blood’s lessons now sometimes involved descents to the underground city, but I’d gotten used to it. Sometimes with Pale Moon and sometimes with a longsword, I experienced battle after battle against undead demons. Even when I encountered demons on the same level as a vraskus, they still caused me less trouble than in my first fight.
Eventually, not only did I end up memorizing the structure of the underground city, but nothing down there was a match for me anymore, so Blood started giving me handicaps. For example: I was to enter the underground city with only clothing and a dagger, acquire weapons and armor while there by stealing them from the undead, and return after taking down a certain number. That was pretty hard, but it didn’t take me all that long before I managed to get the hang of that as well.
Incidentally, though I picked up a number of well-preserved weapons and ornaments, none of them were able to outshine Pale Moon. Nevertheless, I thought it was a very useful experience to try out all kinds of different equipment. There were poor-quality weapons where I favored quantity instead, equipment with names, long weapons, short ones, and everything in-between.
Just as Gus had promised, he taught me the secret tricks to the double and triple use of magic.
Even in my previous world, writing different letters with your left and right hands was an impressive trick, and I also remembered seeing street performances where the performer would play an instrument while doing something else at the same time. Multicasting magic was similar to those tricks. Just like Blood’s martial arts, the trick was probably to train your body to remember useful combinations so you could pull them off without thinking.
Gus and I settled on a few practical combinations together. I practiced them to build up my muscle memory. But double casting aside, triple casting was simply far too difficult, and I couldn’t entirely pull it off yet. It must have taken Gus many long years of practice to get that good. I wanted to catch up to him someday.
His lectures changed, too. There was no more relentless cramming.
“This will suffice for your scholarly education.” In our usual classroom, Gus nodded at me with a smile on his face. “It’s time you learned something different.”
“Something different?” I asked, and Gus nodded.
“Go down to the underground city with Blood and gather up some coins,” he said, in a serious tone. “I’m going to teach you something important.” I sat up straight and nodded.
I had no idea what Gus was planning to use the coins for, but if he was speaking this seriously about it, I had no doubt that it really did have to be a matter of some importance.
After a while, Blood and I returned with the coins.
“Ah, good. I’ve been waiting for you.” Gus was carrying dice, a bowl, and... what looked like playing pieces and a board.
“Oh! It’s been a while. Up for a game, old man?!” Blood said, in a really cheerful voice. “Hey, Will, you’ve never played before, right?!”
I didn’t answer.
“No big deal, I guess, only takes once to get the idea... Will?”
“Um. Gus?” I said.
“Yes?” Gus replied.
“Isn’t this... you know... gambling?”
“‘Gambling’ is such a crude term. Have a little elegance. Let’s call it an intellectual game.”
“It is gambling!”
“All right, all right, there’s no need to lose your temper.”
“Yes, there is! I thought you had something really important to teach me! Why gambling?!”
“Oh, I daresay you would be surprised by what intellectual games have to offer.” And that finally started Gus on his train of sophistry. “When you become an elite sorcerer, a modest familiarity with intellectual games is to be expected. Games of this sort are occasionally used for duels between sorcerers. Magic is dangerous in many ways, after all. If you get into a dispute with a sorcerer you detest, and have a physical battle, it is not uncommon for both sides to destroy each other, which is a result that serves no one. Which is why, in the case of a dispute, one will on occasion draw up a contract, and resolve the conflict through an intellectual game, so as to...”
Memories of card-game manga from my previous life flashed through my mind. But thinking about it, games being used as the format to settle a duel wasn’t just a manga thing. There were real, historical examples as well. So maybe, even in this world, it was a good idea to learn how to—
“Oh no, you’re not getting me like that!” I shook my head rapidly. “Gambling is gambling! Mary would be so angry!”
“Oho... Will, my boy...” Gus grinned. “You are scared, I see.”
“What?”
“No, no, no. There’s no need to hide it. It’s only natural that you would be intimidated by the prospect of directly competing against me, the exalted Wandering Sage, in an intellectual game.” His smile was a mocking one. “Yes, and Mary will be angry, after all. No one could blame you for running away! For fleeing! Yes, run, boy, run. I will have my fun with Blood.” He even added a sneering cackle onto the end.
“Oh, that’s it.” I couldn’t help but respond to his provocation.
So, I proceeded to respond to his provocation.
As you know, gambling is addictive. So much so that pathological gambling was an actual recognized disorder in my previous world.
Gambling stimulates the brain. Panic and anger if you lose, but pleasure and satisfaction if you win. Eventually, the brain becomes desensitized to these stimuli, and the person seeks out stronger stimulation, becoming more and more hooked. There was plenty of literature written about this in my previous world, and I hardly needed to quote it to say that countless people had fallen to the allure of these devilish games.
Why am I telling you all this? To illustrate a simple point:
“Double six! Looks like I take this one, Old Gus!”
“Tch! You always did have good instincts...”
“Okay, next game! Let’s play again!”
The devil was not so easily eluded.
The game involved moving pieces across a board using dice, in a similar way to backgammon.
“Okay, let’s go again. Hold up, though, before we start. Will, there’s a trick to this. Let me teach you. See, there’s this thing called an unlucky streak.”
“Pure fantasy!” Gus scoffed. “There are only results and probabilities. Play logically for long enough, and ultimately—”
“Yeah? And who’s the one being slowly bled dry here?”
Blood currently had a big pile of gold coins in front of him. He had taken a lot of minor losses, but never missed when it mattered. Watching him made me want to believe in instinct and streaks of luck.
I remained silent, my eyes on the sizable mountain of silver coins I had amassed by making safe decisions and avoiding big showdowns with Blood. I was currently second.
Gus made a guttural sound of frustration. He was, of course, last. Even though he talked about the importance of theory and probability, whenever a big clash arose between him and Blood, his obstinate personality led him to discard all that and try to outdo him.
I wanted to play well and maintain second place, and if possible, find just the right opportunity to snatch first. So, strategically speaking, my next move should be—
A loud bang interrupted my thoughts. The door was open, and Mary was standing there.
All three of us opened our mouths and made an “ah” sound at the same time.
For a moment, she said nothing. She had her eyes cast downward, and a gentle smile on her face. It appeared to be the same expression she always had, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop trembling.
“You three, sit here.” Her calm
voice made me break into a copious, cold sweat.
“I, ah, well,” Gus started.
“Mary, I can explain—”
“It was Gus’s idea—”
We all waved our hands before us as we tried to defend ourselves.
“Sit here.”
Not one of us could disobey Mary’s smile. Her lecture was long and severe, and taught me something very important: getting hooked on gambling is a bad idea!
◆
Although Gus’s gambling parlor operation was not to be repeated, it did show the large ways in which his lessons were changing. In comparison, Blood’s didn’t change much.
“Hfff!” I exhaled. I was bare-chested, gripping a tree branch, and doing pull-ups. Slowly, to make my back muscles work, I pulled my body up.
With one hand.
“Hfff!”
“Man, your back’s gotten pretty thick.”
Blood’s training was a constant. Train your body, train your technique, practice your skills—hunting, tree climbing, rock climbing, swimming, gathering food—and while doing that, gradually build your knowledge of how to identify the different fish and plants you encounter.
The training never changed. My body, however, was slowly changing to cope with it. I did pull-ups with both hands at first, then with weights, then one-handed. Push-ups, too, I did with a weight on my back, or while in a handstand.
I’d developed visible abs, I was building a muscular chest, and my arms and thighs were getting thicker and stronger. Bit by bit, I was changing into the muscled warrior that Blood had once been.
“Okay, that’ll do,” Blood said, after I’d run through my basic training routine for the day.
“So what are we doing today?” I asked. “Sparring?”
“Nah, I’ve got a little something else in mind today. We’re gonna look for a beehive. Go splash water on yourself and wash the sweat off, put plenty of layers on, and come back here with a cloth.”
I nodded. I splashed cold water on myself, washed off the sweat, put a lot of clothes on, and returned to Blood.
When I got back, Blood was peering into a small jar. He seemed to be grinning.
“Hm? What’s that?”
The Boy in the City of the Dead Page 10