The Beginning After The End 08

Home > Other > The Beginning After The End 08 > Page 18
The Beginning After The End 08 Page 18

by Turtle Me


  Screw it. It’s not like I can get poisoned or anything, I thought as I stabbed the fork she had so kindly left into a cut of blackened meat before shoving it into my mouth.

  Every bite contained pockets of flavor that burst in my mouth, rich and salty and savory. I had to resist the urge to pick the rest of the meat by hand and scarfing it down.

  I took another bite alongside some greens, letting the mixture of flavors and textures mingle and harmonize before reluctantly swallowing it down.

  My mind must’ve blanked out soon after because by the time I came to, nearly all of the meat and half of the greens were gone.

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy,’ Regis commented. ‘It’s kinda scary… ’

  Embarrassed, I let out a cough before slowly eating the rest.

  The next person to come up to me was the warrior who had looted the dead Alacryan. He gave me a somber smile as he approached.

  Despite my cautious glare, he sat down a few feet away and asked, “So how many teammates did you lose?”

  “None,” I replied curtly. “I came here alone.”

  The man’s jaw visibly slackened. “You’re a solo ascender?”

  I remained silent.

  “My name is Trider, by the way,” the man said, leaning toward me and extending a hand. “And I guess I’m a quasi-solo ascender now, too, since my teammate died.”

  I didn’t take it, and Trider eventually let his hand fall with an uncomfortable chuckle. “I guess ascending solo makes you a bit cautious, but that’s okay. Anyway, I came here to see if you’d like a partner for the rest of this ascent. I’m not sure how far you’re trying to go, but I plan on getting out in the next crossroad, so if you want to—”

  “I refuse,” I cut in.

  “What? Oh, are you worried about splitting accolades? If that’s the case, I think it’d be fair to separate and keep individually accolades from beasts we kill ourselves and split an even fifty-fifty for beasts we have to kill together.”

  “No thank you,” I answered without missing a beat.

  “That’s an honorable arrangement,” Trider said, a tinge of frustration in his voice.

  Annoyed by his insistence, I lashed back with a cold tone. “The word ‘honorable’ has no meaning to a man who plunders his own teammate’s body for equipment.”

  Trider flinched back, eyes wide in surprise and confusion. “You’re… joking, right? Taking valuable equipment back home to the ascender’s blood is what Warren would’ve wanted.”

  Suddenly, it felt like I had been the one to make a mistake. I tried to recover by shifting the conversation slightly. “That’s not what I meant. It just didn’t look right to leave his body out in the open to decay or be eaten by those carallians.”

  “Oh, you must be from Sehz-Clar.” Trider chuckled stiffly. “No offense, but notions like that are why people from your dominions are called the soft souths. Everywhere else, leaving soldiers in the place of their death is an honor, especially within the Relictombs.”

  ‘My master is such a racist,’ Regis teased, feigning disgust.

  His joke was a cold splash to my face. I wanted to argue back that I didn’t know, but it only seemed to prove the point of my ignorance. How many times as King Grey had I seen tensions between races and cultures tear people apart, always fueled by ignorance as much as it was by rage or indignance?

  “I moved to Vechor because of that as well,” I lied, trying to make sure my story stayed straight with what I told the swordsman. “But I guess my teachings from Sehz-Clar still linger.”

  “Really?” Trider looked at me in astonishment. “How were you able to—never mind, I guess an accomplished solo ascender would have no problems being accepted into Vechor.” The Alacryan shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe me, which made me nervous. “I’m from Etril so we’d be on the opposite side of the continent once we get out.”

  “Seems like it,” I agreed, even though I had no clue where I would end up once I left this dungeon. The Relictombs, I thought, glad to finally have a name for the endless series of tests and puzzles. As much as I didn’t care to make small talk with any of these Alacryans, I realized I might be able to use the man’s eagerness for conversation to my advantage. “If I can ask you a few questions as well…? Who are those three ascenders over there?”

  Trider looked to where I was pointing. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing, especially after I saw you talking with the swordsman Striker. I’m not sure who they are, but if you look at the accolades they have, it’s obvious they’re not your normal ascenders. Especially that red sword the girl wields. Warren and I joined this convergence zone only two days ago, but supposedly, those three have been here for over a week now. It’s no wonder that they’re in such bad shape.”

  ‘Man, this guy talks a lot,’ Regis thought, his boredom leaking through our connection.

  It works in our favor though, I sent back.

  “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to your rest. The offer still stands—unless you’ve already accepted the offer from the Lehndert blood prodigy,” he said with a hint of disappointment. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did; she’s a gifted Caster and pretty to boot.”

  After Trider walked back to his small camp, I continued training my aether passages for a few more hours. I was drawn out of the exercise by the noises of camps being packed up. The others started getting ready to go as if there was an agreement established beforehand. From what I could see, there was no leader, and only very limited organization among the separate teams, but they all seemed to understand what they needed to do.

  I got up as well, wiping away the sweat on my brows with an extra shirt I carried in my bag. It was one of very few possessions I carried with me. When I put it back in the bag, I held Sylvie’s stone in my hand for a moment. The cool, smooth surface helped remind me what I was trying to accomplish.

  Taegen, Caera, and the swordsman left first, with Daria’s group—the only other team of three—soon following after. Daria gave me a knowing stare, clearly expecting me to follow her, and when I didn’t, her thin brows furrowed and she whipped her head away.

  The only other person to travel by himself was Trider. I nodded to the man in acknowledgement before trailing behind the rest, most of whom travelled in pairs behind the two teams of three.

  Our pace was that of a constant sprint as we tried to cover as much ground as possible while keeping our mana—or in my case, aether—usage minimal, preserving energy for when the next wave came. It might’ve been possible for me to keep a nonstop pace toward the exit, but for everyone else, the few hours of rest had been crucial if we were to fight another wave.

  As we ran in a line toward where the red sun had been, I could feel the stress build amongst the group, like a tea kettle heating to a boil.

  When the sky turned red, the Alacryans’ tensions culminated into explosions of mana as each one immediately readied for battle.

  I decided to keep to myself, not joining either Trider or Daria, but Trider stayed near me when the sky shifted, maybe for protection, or maybe to prove himself to me.

  The red sun—supposedly the power source of this zone—hung high above us, but it was closer this time, no farther than a day or two of travel.

  Strength flowed through my limbs as aether cycled within me. My eyes scanned our surroundings, expecting to see a horde of monsters charging in from the horizon.

  That wasn’t the case.

  The carallians rose from the ground like the undead rising from their graves, clawing themselves out of the cracked, dense dirt with their red claws all around us. Immediately, spells went off as the ascenders began their preemptive attacks, but I couldn’t help but stare at the claws sprouting from the ground.

  It wasn’t just me.

  The other ascenders froze when the first carallian managed to fully surface. Standing over ten feet tall, it was twice the size of the carallians we’d fought i
n the last wave, and it had an extra pair of arms. For a second, I thought perhaps it was just some kind of general or leader of the enemy force, but as more and more of the beasts ripped free of the earth, I grew certain that the entire enemy army had received a massive power boost. And judging by the stunned look on everyone’s faces, it was obvious that this wasn’t normal.

  273

  Justification

  I might not have thought much of the difference in size if it wasn’t for the way the ascenders reacted to it. It wasn’t just their expressions of shock, it was the way their horrified expressions turned to me as if I was somehow the cause.

  Whether they truly thought that this was my fault or not, I wouldn’t find out until after the battle. The steroid-infused carallians were popping out of the ground by the dozens, and it didn’t seem like they’d stop and wait for us to finish a conversation first.

  “Tri-layer Circle Formation!” shouted a clear voice from within the chaos.

  The ascenders looked at one another, uncertain. I glanced around from face to face, looking for a cue that would tell me what the hell a Tri-layered Circle Formation was. The rest, however, had hesitation and reluctance written all over their faces.

  “Now!” the speaker roared. It was an ascender from Daria’s team.

  His resolute voice cut through the ascenders, spurring them on to follow his command. Aside from Caera’s team, the rest formed a loose, three-ringed circle centered around Daria and another ascender who was holding a golden wand.

  Any idea what a Tri-layered Circle Formation is? I asked Regis.

  ‘No clue.’

  Going rogue like Caera, Taegen, and the brown-haired swordsman spelled defiance or ignorance, neither of which I wanted to portray at this point. I got into position between Trider and another melee ascender in the outermost ring, deducing that this formation was designed to keep Daria, who I knew was a Caster, and the lanky guy with the crooked nose protected.

  The first wave of the aether-beasts crashed into our circle. Many died before they reached us, but many, many more threw themselves at us, intent on our immediate deaths.

  I fought beside my enemies, hiding my strength to avoid drawing any more attention to myself. The carallians’ strength mirrored their enlarged stature, yet their speed was unimpeded. I could already see the men and women around me struggling to fend off the violent attacks.

  Crescents of white arched around me as my dagger flashed with deadly speed and accuracy. With aether augmenting my body, my kicks and strikes made me an impassable storm. I found the dagger to be a perfect weapon for this type of fighting. I swept it side-to-side, cutting down any carallian stupid enough to approach.

  The Tri-layered Circle Formation constantly shifted to avoid the accumulation of carallian corpses, and it all seemed like it was going well until the first ascender was killed, opening a hole in the outer ring.

  “Garth!” shouted a lean ascender positioned in the middle ring. He wielded a quarterstaff and had a dozen or so orbs of lightning floating around him.

  Immediately, the Strikers on either side of the dead ascender seamlessly filled in the gap and we kept fighting. If I hadn’t seen the different camps set up for each pair or trio of ascenders, I would’ve assumed that they were all a part of the same highly-trained unit by how well they worked together.

  My attention then shifted to the inner circle of our formation. Despite my initial bias against Daria because of her coy attitude, it seemed her skills were top-notch. Her main arsenal consisted of conjuring spears of ice and explosions of wind around her enemies.

  The Caster beside her only used fire magic, but he had a wider variety of spells under his belt, from hurling spheres of fire to waves of scorching heat capable of melting the carallians’ tough hides. Both were precise with the strength and accuracy of their skills, careful of the ring of defensive ascenders focused on protecting them as well as the outer ring that fought to kill as many carallians as we could.

  Spotting a carallian approaching, I kicked a corpse on the ground, sending it flying at my target while shoulder tossing another carallian that tried to pierce the outer ring to my right. I gripped the dagger hooked to my finger and drove it through the struggling monster’s eye before absorbing the remaining aether from its corpse.

  Despite the added strength, speed, limbs, and spikes that protruded out of the carallians’ bodies, I actually found fighting them easier, because they carried more aether.

  Suddenly, a pained cry drew my attention. Trider was pressing down on his side, blood seeping through between his fingers. Simultaneously, his free arm was blocking the jaws of a carallian from biting down on him.

  Damn it.

  Breaking rank, I dashed to Trider, slashing the back of the carallian’s knees and stabbing the side of its throat in a single whirling motion.

  Trider looked at me with a dazed and puzzled expression. “Why—”

  “We can’t have another gap in the outer circle,” I snapped. “Stay alive.”

  He was an Alacryan. Why did I care whether he lived or died?

  I tried reasoning with myself that it would be hard for me to get through this convergence zone without their help, but I knew that wasn’t true.

  Perhaps I thought that the more I interacted with these ascenders, the more I could learn about the Relictombs and about Alacrya itself. If I really did wind up in Alacrya after escaping the Relictombs, it made sense not to draw attention to myself in the heart of a continent I was at war with.

  In the back of my mind, though, I knew I was starting to regard Trider and the rest of them less as my enemies and more as just people, people like the adventurers I’d fought beside in my youth, people that just wanted to get through this ordeal, the same as me.

  I berated myself, unwilling to admit that I felt anything but animosity towards these Alacryans. I wanted to hate them—no, I needed to hate them. How else was I supposed to go back to Dicathen and fight a war against their brothers and sisters?

  ‘You know, princess, even if you don’t necessarily need them, getting their help and working together wouldn’t hurt.’

  You’re wrong, I thought as I plunged my knife just below the jaw of a carallian. You have my memories of the war, Regis. These people killed my father! And you want me to work together with them? Help them?

  I batted away the swipe of a clawed hand, then severed another hand before kicking straight outward, sending the carallian I was fighting tumbling backwards into three more of its kind.

  ‘I know, but you don’t need to force yourself to think of these people as your enemies. They’re still just—’

  “Shut up!” I roared aloud. They are my enemies. And no matter how sentient you are, you’re still just a weapon. Remember that.

  Regis grew silent, and the anger boiling in the pit of my stomach grew too.

  Ignoring the strange looks from the mages around me, I discarded the facade of a warrior struggling to stay alive, venting my growing frustration and fury into the carallians’ thin, horrible bodies. I swatted them aside, my rage leaking from me in a palpable aura… and then I fell from anger into the cold detachment I’d mastered in my previous life.

  The carallians were simply an obstacle, and my mind set to work solving the problem. I focused on clean, quick movements, making each cut or thrust even more precise, more effortless than the last, honing my technique like one would hone the edge of a blade.

  I concentrated on the feeling of cladding myself in aether, feeling the fundamental differences from when I had once done the same with mana.

  It was difficult to describe, but aether was denser, yet more pliable and soft. So much so that it required less concentration to envelop my body in aether without it leaking or spreading. I also found that I could coalesce a far greater proportion of aether on specific body parts than I’d been able to with mana.

  Yet, the difference in the outcome couldn’t be ignored. The power my body re
ceived as aether siphoned through my limbs felt as if the strengthened muscles were mine and the protective layer of aether was my own thickened skin. It didn’t feel borrowed like when I strengthened myself using mana.

  In retrospect, my inability to use elemental magic would’ve hit me much harder if it hadn’t been for my training with Kordri. Being taught to conserve mana, fighting with minimal movements and utmost efficiency while dealing the most possible damage, served me better in my asuran body than it had all throughout the war.

  Memories of my time with the bald asura flooded back to me—all the times he had killed me in the soul realm while teaching me how to fight. His movements were fluid yet sharp, and the speed at which he was able to move was chilling. Add to that his King’s Intent, which could literally squeeze the air out of a silver core mage’s lungs, and it was clear why he was respected even amongst the asuras.

  Back then, he had taught me how to fight to the utmost limits of a human, but what about now? Could I, with my new body and aether to strengthen it, reach even Kordri’s levels? Could I surpass him?

  My mind stayed sharp as these and other thoughts raced through my mind, not caring how much time had passed. I remained aware, yet I blocked out everything but the enemy. That was how I had been fighting since waking up in this hellhole: eat or be eaten. With my mana core shattered, I fought and trained on a daily basis not to be the latter.

  The words I had spat at Regis threatened to resurface, but I buried them by concentrating on the sounds of the battle—the crunch and grinding of rocks as they stomped the ground, the subtle whistle of the wind as the carallians swung their gangly limbs.

  Ducking below the snapping jaws of a carallian, I knocked it off its feet with a low, sweeping kick. As it scrambled to get back up, I refocused on another carallian barreling toward me.

  Splitting aether between my back leg and the point of my elbow, I burst forward, pushing my supporting palm up against my fist to reinforce my strike. The sharp bones that protected the carallian’s torso shattered upon impact, and my elbow dug into his midsection like a spearhead.

 

‹ Prev