Chapter 108 (Book 3 Chapter 36) (Patreon)

"Fucking Human," a voice hissed.

Taleya blinked, missing her next arrow shot by an inch as it landed slightly off from the bullseye. She grimaced, chastising herself for letting a momentary distraction throw off her aim during training of all things. Carelessness like that cost lives; an inch was the difference between striking a charging vraal's eye or its hardened carapace. It was her duty as a Ranger to be better than this.

"Agreed," a second voice said. "The bastard was handed success on a silver platter."

...It was her duty as a Ranger to ignore distract-

"His underlings aren't any more respectable, either."

Taleya's right eye twitched. She lowered her bow and slowly turned sideways, spying two other Rangers muttering to themselves in a corner of the training ground. After one last halfhearted glance at the shooting range, she approached the duo with purposeful, methodical steps, imitating the gait of a lion preparing to pounce on its prey. Taleya's quarry noticed her approach almost immediately – if nothing else, they were still Rangers with high Perception, even if their heads were as empty as a bottomless canyon. One of the two was stricken with embarrassed shock, while the other appeared pleased, as if he'd been desiring this confrontation.

"Couldn't help but overhear your blathering," Taleya snapped, once she'd gotten close. "Care to repeat those words to my face?"

"There she is," the first Ranger began, in a derisive tone that made Taleya want to punch him in the teeth. "So glad to meet with one of the Human's esteemed hanger-ons. I hope you haven't been having too much trouble lately, what with your spot in his Party being usurped by a Fiend they met barely over a month ago."

Taleya narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. 'Identify'. Ranger #1 was Level 28 and named Vargas. Ranger #2 was Level 26 and named Ulicor. Both were far below her own Level 39; a realization which released some of the stress coiling in her shoulders. Taleya didn't intend to combat their words with violence – unless her temper got the best of her – but it was often prudent to estimate how a fight between you and others would play out. Especially when speaking with a man like Vargas, who had an air about him that resembled a drunken lout looking for trouble. The only difference was that he was drunk on indignity rather than booze, which unfortunately meant that his reflexes were still intact.

"No one has a rightful claim to the eighth 'spot' in Rob's Party," Taleya countered. "And the Fiend is merely a diplomatic liaison. She'll be rotated out soon enough. Maybe I'll be given a Party invite when she is, and if I'm not, oh well. That's just the way of things."

Vargas raised his eyebrows. "And that's how you truly feel?"

Taleya suppressed a grimace. No, it wasn't. She'd very much enjoyed how frequently she used to be included in Rob's party. What's more, she had the sinking suspicion that her time as his default eighth member was coming to an end. No more Fast Learner bonus – potentially ever.

The notion...stung. She'd grown accustomed to her accelerated growth and was still mourning its loss. Reconciling the emotional part of herself demanding that she deserved that spot, with the part of herself that logically knew otherwise, was an ongoing process. There wasn't anyone she could talk to about it, either; Rob's Party would consider her ungrateful, while other Rangers would point out that she'd already been included far more often than they had.

Taleya glared at the Rangers standing before her. Perhaps, if they'd approached her with a different tact, she would've taken the chance to commiserate with them about how it felt being left behind by Rob and his friends. After all, wasn't it unfair that seven upjumped youths were exceeding the efforts of Rangers who possessed decades of training and expertise? The greatest fear of any Combat Class user was irrelevancy, and it was impossible to deny that Rob's group was outshining those around them at every step. They'd even taken up Riardin's mantle – and who could deny them? A Party of Awakened Class users could call themselves whatever they damn well pleased.

Yes, it would've been nice to speak these feelings aloud with Vargas and Ulicor. They could've griped, lamented, laughed, and then moved on to greet the day with lighter hearts. Everyone needed an outlet to vent their frustrations to on occasion. Taleya knew that Rob wouldn't begrudge her complaining behind his back – if anything, the Human would’ve thought it was funny.

Unfortunately, she couldn't indulge herself in this golden opportunity, because the two shits in front of her were letting their mouths run just a little too far.

"Do I wish that I was included in his Party more often?" Taleya began, crossing her arm. "Of course I do. Everyone does. But you don't see me whining that – what was the phrase you used? – that Rob's Party was handed their success on a silver platter. Unlike some people, I think before I speak."

By this point, Ulicor had completely retreated from their conversation, standing back in silence and staring at the ground. Taleya felt a sliver of sympathy for the man; he'd evidently been used by Vargas to bait her into a confrontation. For his part, Vargas was only growing more incensed by the second, and he spouted his retort the instant Taleya finished talking.

"Nine," he spat. "That's how many of the original Village Rangers are left." He grit his teeth. "There used to be fifty. Some fled to Reviton City, but most perished in the line of duty. Refresh my memory – how many members of Rob's Party have perished, again?"

Taleya's hand inched towards her bow. "Vargas," she stated, in a voice as cold as ice. "I'll give you one chance to reconsider that statement. Think for a moment about what it implies."

"I don't want them dead," he said, all too quickly. "But surely you're not blind to the benefits that being a consistent member of his Party offer. The results are apparent: they thrived as we died."

"We?" Taleya repeated. "They? Why are you counting Rob's Party as separate from the Deserters?"

Vargas dismissively waved a hand. "Don't bother trying to convince me that they're still the same as us," he muttered. "By the note of hesitation in your tone, it's not something you believe, either. Rob's Party consists of one Human, one Dragonkin, the biggest firebrand in The Village, an Archmage, and two others who abandoned their Classes. Only one member chose to stay as a Ranger – and he was then promptly Awakened, along with each and every one of his compatriots." He shook his head. "I can scarcely recognize them as they are now."

Taleya took a second to compose herself. "Refresh my memory," she imitated, wanting nothing more than to put an arrow through the man's throat. "Did you join us on the Dungeon Crawl in Esternard City?"

Vargas froze. "...No. I stayed behind to guard the city. Infected plants were encroaching from underground-"

"I'm aware." Taleya forced her hand to her side and away from her bow. "Your job was important. I won't claim that it wasn't. With that said, you didn't join us on the Dungeon Crawl, which means that you weren't subjected to that...hell. You weren't there to have your deepest desires twisted into a mocking fantasy. You weren't there to watch over a dozen Villagers be nearly sucked dry to feed the Dungeon's appetite. And above all, you weren't there to witness the absolute manic fervor in my Party's eyes as they tried anything and everything to save their comrades. I don't give a single shit what race or Class or Level they are – on that day, they proved without a doubt that they're willing to risk their lives for ours, just as I would risk mine for theirs."

She'd taken a few steps forward while speaking, and was now dangerously close to Vargas. The man held his ground, although he was clearly worried that she was about to strike him. Good, Taleya thought. I doubt I'll change his mind, but at least I'll shut his mouth.

"And even if you weren't on the Esternard Dungeon Crawl," she continued. "You were present for the road to Reviton City, and the journey north, and the Blightspawn incursion of Broadwater. You've seen time and time again that Rob's Party members are as dedicated to the Deserters as anyone else." Taleya clenched her fist. "In the end, nothing else matters."

For a brief and wonderful moment, Vargas looked as if he was going to rethink his views. Then the specter of stubborn envy reared its ugly head once more, his eyes glinting with resentment. "So that's it then?" the Ranger sneered. "We're just supposed to stand aside and cheer them on as they ascend to greater and greater heights? Perhaps you're satisfied with the providence you've been granted thus far, but I've spent a total of two hours in Rob's Party since he became able to share Fast Learner. Two hours! I can't abide that disparity, especially when we're trapped in Fiend territory. The average Combat Class user here could dismantle me limb from limb if they so desired. Lothren preserve, my very soul is in peril."

His face contorted into an ugly snarl. "And now Rob's group is apparently going on yet another outing. We'll be stuck here cleaning up monsters and Dungeons that could kill us at any moment, while they'll be soaking up easy, Fast Learner-boosted Experience from killing a bunch of fucking fish. The Human is probably being waited on hand and foot as we speak, his every need catered to so that the Elders' and Fiends' favorite creature stays happy and content."

--

Rock, Rob thought.

<Scissors,> Diplomacy thought, at the same time.

I win. Woooo.

<Congrats.> The Skill paused. <Be honest. Did you read my surface-level thoughts again?>

It's kinda hard not to these days, Rob admitted. I can't hide things from you as easily, either. Weren't you reading my thoughts too?

<Well, yes, which is why I was surprised that you won.>

Both of them went silent for a few seconds.

<I don't think this game suits our unique mental living arrangement.>

What else do you propose?

More silence.

Want to go back to Tic-Tac-Toe?

<Waste of thought,> Diplomacy dismissed. <There's no variance. As long as you know how it works, you can force a win or a tie in every game.>

And of course it only took you a few rounds to figure that out. Rob sighed, expelling a line of bubbles that floated outward. With a stretch, he opened his eyes and glanced at the Fiend physicians waiting outside of his water tank. Vythe and Zordred perked up, hurriedly stowing their writing implements away, ready to assist him at a moment's notice in case things went awry. Rob gave them a thumbs-up to put them at ease, then went back to lazily floating in the center of his twenty-by-twenty foot aquatic enclosure. As exciting as moving through water with the grace and speed of a Merfolk had been at the start, once he'd gotten accustomed to performing loop-de-loops, there wasn't much left to do outside of chill and teach Diplomacy simple Earth games.

Rob took a deep breath, embracing the bizarre sensation of water being converted to air as the Perfected Ring of Waterdwelling worked its magic. The process was sufficiently weird enough to keep his mind from falling into a torpor, although even that novelty was starting to run aground upon diminishing returns. He knew that this test was important to figuring out if the Ring was safe to use over extended periods of time, but it was tough to just sit there and do nothing, especially when masses of people were suffering while he lived his new life as an aquarium exhibit. A large part of him wanted to ignore the risks and jump into action right away, and that part was getting louder the longer he spent floating in a glorified fish bowl.

The lack of any real distraction wasn't helping matters. Out of all the games he and Diplomacy had dabbled in to keep themselves occupied, the waiting game still reigned supreme.

How long have we been in here? Rob asked.

<About an hour, I'd say.>

And how long did we set the stress test for?

<...Three hours.>

Both of them went silent again.

<...Rock.>

Paper.

--

Two torturous hours later, they'd finally learned all they could about the Perfected Ring of Waterdwelling. In theory. There was no way to know for certain how effective it would be when used in deep Merfolk territory, but at the very least, their initial findings were actually turning out to be encouraging.

For starters, the Ring was making good on its promise of allowing Rob full underwater breathing and unrestricted nautical agility. Those who'd seen Merfolk swim in the past described his underwater maneuvers as almost on par with theirs. That much was expected based on the Enchanted Item's description, but the Ring also seemed to offer some side benefits as a bonus prize. Little things that would've negatively affected Rob if he stayed submerged for long stretches at a time – such as pruney skin and irritated eyes – were negated. Eating underwater would still prove to be a challenge, and no one knew whether or not the Ring would protect him from deep sea pressure, but he wouldn't come out of the water looking like a man-sized raisin, so he had that going for him.

Most importantly, Rob's EXP Share was able to transfer the full effects of the Ring to anyone in his Party. Usually the effects he shared were a diluted form, but maybe the Ring was different because it was 'perfected', and sharing a portion of infinity was still infinity? That was as good of a reason as any, and Rob decided to accept it and let the Fiend scholars debate the specifics. He honestly didn't give a shit either way. If it worked, it worked. The important takeaway was that Riardin's Rangers would be at full capacity while in Merfolk territory.

Well, almost full capacity. He couldn't use Firebombs underwater, and the Ring wasn't bullshit enough to change that. Rob stared at the Ring nestled tightly around his middle finger and shook his head like a disappointed father towards his layabout son. If an Enchanted Item didn't let you explode more things, then really, what was it even good for?

"We'll be teleporting you approximately twenty miles out into Merfolk territory," the Fiend mage explained, breaking Rob out of his thoughts. Riardin's Rangers were currently participating in a last-minute strategy meeting while the teleportation mages made their preparations. "That's less distance than you or I would have hoped, but attempting any further runs the risk of irreversible spell deviation."

"As in teleporting us a mile up into the air?" Keira asked. "Or a mile below the seabed?"

"Correct."

She put on a serene smile. "I'd like to avoid that."

The Fiend mage visibly shuddered. "Y-yes, of course." He averted his gaze and pointed down at a world map spread across the table. "According to Duran, the Locus you'll be aiming for is located here."

The location in question was adorned by a little red flag stuck into the map, billowing majestically as Malika cast wind magic on it with a giggling smile on her face. Rob examined the map closely; it had been a long time since he'd gotten a chance to familiarize himself with Elatra's territorial makeup. Starting from the bottom, he could see Elven and Dragonkin territory, which took up most of the southern edge of the continent. The Dwarves and their mountains covered the eastern edge. Harpy territory was stuck at the southeastern edge, sandwiched in-between Dragonkin and Dwarven territory. These four territories seemed to contain a similar amount of landmass, although the Dwarves possessed the clear geological advantage of having a vast mountain range they could hide in.

Then there was the center of the map, which was dominated by the Human wastelands. It was the size equivalent of any three other territories combined. Fiend territory stretched across the northern edge of Elatra and was a little bigger than non-Human territories, although not by much. Finally there was Merfolk territory in the west, looking like a large circular chunk that had been scooped out of a section of the continent. It consisted entirely of water, with the top part leading out into the open sea.

And if you went even farther west than that, you reached the ancient Deadlands, which covered Elatra's western edge from top to bottom. Seeing that long, dark gray splotch on the map was a grim reminder of what would happen if the Blight ended up winning. In fact, if the map were truly accurate, there would already be several additional gray splotches showcasing various Blighted zones. One in Fiend territory, another in Human territory, and possibly more in locations that Rob wasn't yet aware of.

After all, Elatra was full of dozens if not hundreds of Loci, many of them left unattended and unguarded.

Rob repressed that thought and looked back at the red flag denoting his target Locus. It was near Fiendland's borders and situated far away from any major Merfolk settlements, which was damn close to ideal. Operation Locus Heist was about getting in, Attuning, and getting out as quickly as possible before the Merfolk realized they'd technically been invaded. Normally this would be impossible, as each territory guarded their borders fiercely, but the Merfolk were different. No race in Elatra had ever managed to figure out a functional waterbreathing spell, and as a result, the Merfolk were living in what was essentially an impregnable geological fortress. They'd stopped bothering to guard their borders thousands of years ago.

Lazy fishstick pricks, Rob grumbled. Why are they the only ones who have it easy, and – oh shit, did I just go native? Why am I resenting the Merfolk for not having to worry about invaders?

Valiantly repressing that thought as well, Rob focused on the positives. There was a Locus ripe for the picking, it was relatively close by, and his Party was unlikely to encounter the Merfolk in any large numbers along the way. It might actually be the only scenario where sneaking a Locus from another territory was possible. In that sense, Rob couldn't have asked for better.

Except for maybe the Locus being in Fiend territory. Or there being no Black Wind. Or the Corruption plague having never existed in the first place. Or...okay, so Rob could've asked for a lot better. He was still going to take his silver linings where he got them. Operation Locus Heist was looking shockingly plausible – aside from one nagging issue.

"No offense, but how accurate is this map?" Rob asked. "You guys don't exactly travel much."

"Duran verified its veracity," the Fiend mage answered, sounding mildly offended. "And it has been derived from our oldest and most trusted records."

Okay, but the old Fiends didn't travel much either, Rob thought. He briefly considered saying so, before ultimately deciding against it. There was no point in pressing the issue; he trusted Elder Duran to know his stuff.

Riardin's Rangers and the Fiend mage continued discussing logistics until the door opened several minutes later. A group of four Fiends entered the room, each person carrying one corner of the same crate. They slowly, carefully approached the table, setting the box down like it was packed full of nitroglycerin.

Reminds me of the Riardin Special, Rob thought, with an internal sigh of wistful longing.

<You have a problem.>

Yeah, I do, and it's called 'not having Firebombs'.

Any further banter was upended when the Fiends pried open their box to reveal goodies inside. Over twenty Enchanted Items awaited within; rings, bracelets, anklets, wristbands, and even a helmet.

"We scoured the cities for these," one of the Fiend newcomers explained. "Take whichever you think will be relevant to the mission at hand." She paused. "And no more. Please. Some of these belong to...certain important people. Who were displeased at having their precious family heirlooms appropriated by the Grand Overseers."

Keira gave Rob a side-eye glance. He understood her intent at once, shaking his head slightly. Stealing Enchanted Items by hiding them in Spatial Storage was a bit too grimy for his tastes. She pouted for an instant, then went back to Identifying the Items like a kid at her first visit to Toys R Us. Rob did the same.

Name: Minor Anklet of Waterskimming
Description: An Enchanted anklet that, when worn, grants the user the ability to float on the surface of water. The duration of this effect lasts for one minute, and can be used once every twenty-four hours.

Name: Minor Bracelet of Hair Growth
Description: An Enchanted bracelet that, when worn, accelerates the user's hair growth speed by 10%. When worn for at least one year without being removed, bald spots will begin to regrow as well. This effect ends when the bracelet is removed, which will reset the timer.

Name: Minor Ring of Food Amplification
Description: An Enchanted ring that, when worn, causes the user to taste food somewhat more intensely than before. Food perceived as delicious will taste slightly better, while food perceived as unappetizing will taste slightly worse.

Rob blinked, and then looked at the Fiends. "Did you guys bring every Enchanted Item you could get your hands on? Regardless of quality?"

Fiend Newcomer #1 put on a weak smile. "We wished to be thorough," she said, sheepishly. "Didn't want the mission to fail because a stone was left unturned."

"And I appreciate that. It's just..." He held up a ring. "This one makes spells louder. Not stronger; louder. Why would we need that for a stealth operation?"

"I want it," Malika said, deathly serious. "Forever."

"That ring belongs to Lady Asheri," Fiend Newcomer #1 explained, the blood draining from her face. "It was a present for her twentieth birthday."

Malika locked eyes with Fiend Newcomer #1. "I want to make my thunder spells sound like actual thunder," she stated, in that same serious tone. "Are you implying that we don't deserve a reward for saving the lives of all your friends and family? Is the value of our service so little to you? If so, then perha-MMMFPH."

Fiend Newcomer #1 – on the verge of passing out – was rescued by Orn'tol, who covered his sister's mouth and dragged her back in a practiced motion. "My apologies," he said. "She's been been spending too much time watching...someone."
He means you.

<I'll take it as a compliment,> Diplomacy said, excitedly. <Did you see how quickly she backed that Fiend into a corner? I'm so proud of her.>

I'm glad one of us is.

Minutes passed. After scrutinizing all of the Enchanted Items, Rob was forced to come to the conclusion that Items as useful as the ones he already owned were much rarer than he'd imagined. Either that, or the Enchanted Items with powerful combat effects were being hoarded by Fiends who refused to part with them. Of course, it would be silly for anyone to conceal valuable resources while the fate of their race was at stake, but he'd seen enough zombie movies to know that peoples' sense of greater good usually went out the window when the apocalypse came knocking.

Just one more reason to get Attunement Level 9 as soon as possible. Things were stable now, but most people didn't know that Black Wind 2: Electric Boogaloo was on its way. Rob gave Fiend society a month before it inevitably deteriorated into a chaotic mess.

Thankfully, two of the Enchanted Items actually ended up being useful. One was an Item that passively increased eyesight in low-light situations. Depending on how deep underwater the Locus was located, extra visibility might be needed. The second Item was a nigh-indestructible compass, which was going to help them keep their bearings as they searched. Rob's Locus sensing range was about the size of a city now, but that wouldn't help them if they were swimming in the wrong direction.

Diplomacy also wanted to keep a necklace that turned purple if someone nearby was lying. They rescinded their request after learning that the wearer wasn't excluded from the Item's effect.

And...that was it. The mages were ready, the planning was finished, the supplies were packed, and everything that could be taken care of, had been. There wasn't anything left to do besides commence the operation. That didn't stop Elder Duran and Elder Alessia from waiting with the Party until the very last second, fretting like parents seeing their kids off to college for the first time. Alessia was trying to play it cool, but the little fidgets and glares she sent towards the teleportation mages told a different story. Duran, on the other hand, didn't bother hiding his concern.

"If any of your chests begin to feel tight, ask Rob to use Waymark immediately," he said, nervously rubbing the tips of his fingers together. "People without access to air will fall unconscious more quickly than you might think."

"Yes, Elder Duran," the Party intoned.

"And make absolutely sure to avoid the northern edge of Merfolk territory that leads to the sea beyond Elatra," he continued. "The Great Leviathans live there. They won't harm you if you don't encroach upon their home, so keep an eye on your compass at all times."

"Yes, Elder Duran."

"And!" He held a finger up. "Don't overexert yourselves! We can always try again at a later date if the initial venture doesn't bear fruit!"

"Yes, Elder Duran." Rob smiled. In a way, Duran's animated anxiety was soothing. It meant that the Elder's liveliness was returning. And on a selfish note, it was nicer to see people worry than not care at all. Rob's dad and mom had acted even worse when dropping him off to university during freshman year. The sight of Elder Duran fussing over him was...nostalgic.

It was with that vague, comforting notion easing his heart that he bid goodbye to the Elders. See you soon, he promised. Be back before you know it.

A thunderclap of mana surged through the air as the teleportation mages cast their spell. One gut-wrenching trip through dimensional space later, and Rob found himself submerged completely underwater. He panicked for a moment, flailing wildly, before his caveman instincts remembered that Elatran bullshit existed. Sure enough, Rob took in a deep breath that the Perfected Ring of Waterdwelling seamlessly converted to oxygen, lungs filling with air just like if he was standing on the surface. His body wasn't restricted by the water, too, which he tested by turning around in one smooth motion. Every movement was fluid, responsive, and felt completely natural, like he'd suddenly unlocked long-dormant fish DNA.

The Ring was working its literal magic; as long as he wore it, the sea belonged to him as much as it did any Merfolk. He wouldn't drown, he wouldn't sink, and his skin would remain un-pruned. There was nothing to fear.

Besides the shark. Which was inches away. And looking right at him with an expression of shock; insomuch as sharks had expressions.

Rob stared.

The shark stared.

Rob smiled.

The shark smiled.

Rob waved.

Regrow Limb Level Increased! 5 -> 6

--

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