Chapter 31: Captive (8) (Patreon)

World: MSS - Loading...

***

The scent of rot and decay became stronger the closer I got to the bottom.

Unlike the winding stairs embedded into the walls for the rest of the subterranean system, this one had been built straight with what looked like a ramp in the center. It was a large tunnel, though perhaps not as large as the dungeon I’d been in. The doorway that I entered hadn’t been small either.

Actually, the whole place reminded me of a loading dock which got me thinking: What was Damur hiding down here?

I got my answer.

Brrrr

Whuff

Woooo

Chichichichichi

These were undoubtedly the monster calls. Barking, strange chuffing sounds and even sinister laughter that sent chills up my spine, I would recognize them anywhere. I heard them everynight in my dreams.

The calls were growing louder and I could tell there were more than a few dozen mixed in there. I could name them all, despite having never heard some of them in this world. But I’d played the game for 14 years and heard the same digitized monster call thousands and millions of times. How could I not recognize them?

Hobgoblin, Bool Dokkaebi, Pyogyun, Agwi, Kappa and more.

I started to take the stairs two at a time, my footsteps muffled by the sound of monsters. Actually the sounds grew so loud that I had to consciously try and block them out. But atleast I didn’t have to worry about someone hearing me. I leaped down the stairs, skipping the last few and landing on the bottom level at last. I quickly hid my body behind the stairs.

The room was shaped like a bird’s cage, in the shape of a semi-sphere. Just like the stairs, it was obviously a man-made structure. Around the room were cages, but they contained monsters instead of slaves. All the monsters I had named were here and some that were staying silent. Most of them were grade 9 and 10, though I did spot a few grade 8s. But one monster in particular caught my eye.

Shadow Mimic Wolf… Grade 7. A Boss-class monster.

Fuck.

“Forget the slave auction I have to get out of here.”

I hated Shadow Mimic Wolves with a passion and without a doubt, there was 0% chance of me defeating it. Even if I had L’teya, Clover and Scarlet here with me, it’d just wipe out our entire party. First, this monster always had a dagger equipped which stacked [Bleed] just like my jagged katana. Second, they could teleport by using its ability [Shadow Blink]. Most game developers would stop right there, but this wasn't even the half of it.

The two skill combos that really made the boss raid a cheat was the active skill, [Sadistic Mimicry] and [Gloomy Disposition]. Anytime the monster wounded someone, they copied a random skill Then there was its passive defensive ability: [Gloomy Disposition]. As long as this monster stood in shadow, it was immune to magical damage.

Yup. Complete Immunity.

That’s right. Just like the Ujo, this guy had immunity to one of the three damage types in MSS. Luckily, it wasn’t as broken as Ujo’s [Dull Edge]. In return for immunity to magical damage, the Mimic Wolf would receive a double debuff to its defense as long as it stood in a shadow.

Not that it mattered, this guy could just [Shadow Blink] away.

And people wonder why it took me 14 years to beat this game when monsters like these are only grade 7.

This Shadow Mimic Wolf looked different from the ones I’d seen in the game. They were supposed to be a mess of black fur that covered them from head to toe. This monster was supposed be a fur ball-werewolf cracked out on cocaine and adderall rolled into one. The only parts of its body the player was allowed to see were the whites of its eyes, its gangly arms and the protruding snout filled with rotting fangs. The rest would be hidden beneath the thick black mane which served as a natural defense against physical attacks.

But this creature’s fur was stained with streaks of white.

“This guy isn’t just a boss-class… it’s a named variant.”

Double Fuck.

That meant this guy was probably higher than a grade-7. The grading system wouldn’t necessarily change it, named variants took the grade of their normal counterparts. But on the forums, we often assigned our own grading system to these mutants and outliers. The named variants had similar abilities to their counterparts, with a twist. For example, I had once encountered a named variant of the monster, [Dokkaebi]. One of its abilities [Dokkaebi Pouch] acted like a dimension ring, or inventory bag in other games. However the named variant dropped a Core called [Greedy Dokkaebi Pouch], which transmuted any item stored into gold.

There were people who tried to livestream a Named-Variant Core only run but they always failed, these monsters were impossible to find. If you were lucky, you'd encounter a named monster every 10 playthroughs. Now that I thought about it, I never actually saw a livestream successfully record an encounter with a named variant. They were practically myths, only being shared on forums through screenshots and posts. Now that I was in this world, I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't a coincidence. Maybe these monsters were smarter, more sinister and intelligent than we had all assumed.

My eyes continued to roam through the bird-cage shaped cavern, trying to see if there was anything else that could be of use to me. I saw Yulrien with his back to me, about thirty paces away. He was holding a piece of paper and checking things off of it. The glasses-elf stood in front of a table with large cylindrical objects containing spheres of different colors.

Those were incubators.

Normally when people think of incubators, they imagine warm casings that house eggs; a surrogate mother of sorts for the lifeform inside. In MSS, incubators were the opposite. They were cold to the touch and metallic, nothing motherly about them. They didn’t host eggs, full with the potential of life. MSS Incubators housed Spirit Cores, the remnants left behind by dying monsters. Incubators were the only way to transport Cores.

I saw 5 Cores and they were all labeled.

Shadow Mimic Wolf - Grade 7

Flame Drake - Grade 7

Biyu - Grade 6

Inmyun Ho (人面鴞) - Grade 5

Hyo (嚣) - Grade 8

All thoughts of escape went out the window.

I licked my lips, eyes fixed on them. Quickly delving into my soul the way L’teya had taught me, I found that I didn’t have a Core Slot available yet. But I should be close to a level-up to 20, shouldn’t I? And this room was full of monsters for that exact purpose.

This would be risky but I’d be a fool not to take the chance.

“Now how should I do this?”

“Ahahaha! You will have to visit us next time Ms. Weinport! My villa overlooks the vineyard and it’s a view worth dying for!” The dwarf’s raucous laughter rang through the small area that they were standing in.

Clover leaned her head to the side, smiling at him. “I’d love to Mr. Olodo.”

“Don’t call me that! We’re friends now! Call me Tom!” He put a hand on her wrist, raising it and giving a little bow.

Clover had befriended the three dwarves of the Jayu faction within the blink of an eye. Arione was impressed. She wasn’t just talented at magic, but had obviously been trained on manners and how to behave in formal settings. The beastwoman used her looks with deadly effectiveness, all three dwarves were practically swooning over her. He didn’t even have to worry about anyone looking at him, he’d become a background figure next to the dazzling pink flower.

“Stop that, Tomahud!” Tom’s triplet brother –Rokdris Olopo– slapped the hand holding the maiden’s wrist. “How dare you lay hands on Ms. Weinport!”

“Please.” Clover batted her eyelashes and made it look natural, placing a hand on Rok’s elbow. “Call me Clover.”

Arione thought Rokdris could die right there and then, and die a happy man.

Clover had to bade her farewells, much to the sadness of the three dwarves. But the other guests who had come to this corner of the rooftop were now waiting to talk to them and there was quite a crowd building up. Arione tugged on Clover’s elbow, signaling that it was time to leave.

“Please!” Yousef, the oldest of the three dwarves, practically begged. “You must visit us at the Colosseum! The games are not as barbaric as you would think! I assure you!”

Once Clover got away from the three, the other guests swarmed the dwarves with actually business. All that the pink-haired beastwoman did was flirt and get them to spill some information. Arione doubted the dwarves had any idea what Clover did and if they did, they probably thanked her for it. She had been positively glowing with charm during that conversation and if he didn’t know she was a priestess, would have suspected her of possessing a Core specializing in allure.

“That… was impressive.” Arione commented, once they were isolated enough. “Wow. First time no one ever paid attention to me. You looked so alive back there.”

Clover didn’t reply, taking a drink off of a nearby server and sipping at it. She didn’t want to feel alcohol lower her inhibitions and it was never a good idea to get drunk at a social gathering like this. Her eyes studied the other three parties she had not approached yet: the Akka Xaluds, representatives of the Zimmskar Kingdom and the orc merchant: Damur.

“Well now we know that the auction is tonight and that it’s not just Slaves that are on sale, there’s rumors that there will be Cores for sale as well.” Arione’s eyes hovered to the Akka Xaluds, making sure Jason and Maria were still there. “No doubt, the Akka Xaluds are here for the Cores. Maybe the dwarves too, the colosseum could always use better fighters for entertainment.”

“I didn’t want to offend them so I didn’t ask, but tell me more about this colosseum.”

“Colosseum. Largest Gladiator ring in the Jayu States and probably the whole world.” Arione provided without missing a beat. “Adventurers against Adventurers, Parties against PArties, Monster fights, you name it. Rumor has it that they brought in a Grade-4 monster once. Closest you can get to showing a natural disaster without actually bringing one to your doorsteps.”

Just like the Enla Enla which had killed his companions, monsters of grade-3 and above were more like forces of nature rather than individual beings.

He grimaced but continued his explanation.

“The whole point is to get a gladiator that the audience can root for, you know? To be popular. But they haven’t had a gladiator like that in years. So what’s the next step? Artificially create strong gladiators by buying them Cores and just pit them against monsters. Easiest way to get people to sympathize. But the people know it when it's fake. Nothing rings the heart like a good underdog story.”

Clover nodded, her merchant mind working quickly to fill in the gaps between what Arione left unsaid.

The Jayu state was here to enhance the Colosseum experience. They were here to buy potential fighters for the Colloseum. She was sure there would be fighters who came from all different types of backgrounds; maybe bastards, minor nobility and even famous adventurers. They were just here to fill out the archetype of the slave gladiators. Then there was the potential Core sale.

“Coins. They talk about Core, Slaves, Colosseum and all those words, but at the end of the day; it’s about the coin.” With that realization, Clover felt that everything suddenly made sense.

All those life and death experiences, the grueling training and the days spent out in the sun. Her fear as she walked through the Dokkaebi Tunnels and the flecks of blood that splashed on her face when L’teya scalped their opponents during the Mak’Gora.

It had all been for gold. Being a merchant’s daughter, the first thing she had been taught was the value of gold.

In one moment it could be worth nothing, the next it was worth more than a man’s life.

Such was the fickle nature of the merchant trade.

“So where to next?” Arione smoothed the wrinkles in his robe.

“I want to talk to them.” She said, her eyes fixated on a particular oasis.

“That’s a bad idea.” The mage leapt in front of her just as she was about to take her first step.

He put his hands up, palms out in an effort to placate the young woman. “You don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“No.” Clover answered him. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“Stop.” He hissed as she tried to push past him. “You’re getting too excited. We’re both wanted people and the Akka Xaluds are the last people you want to talk to. You think they’re all nice and friendly, falling for your charms like those three dwarves? Think again. They’re Scions. Scions. They eat politics for breakfast and finish off with a nice serving of backstabbing and plotting.”

“That’s not even taking into account they’re Akka Xaluds. They’re brutal.” He shook his head. “We can get information from the ZImmskar Representative over there. Maybe they’ll be willing to spill more information because you guys are all-”

“The Zimmskar Kingdom is the weakest group in this entire place.” She answered him. “Just look.”

Arione looked around the place and stopped talking, because what she said was true.

Of all the merchants and minor nobles that were flitting around the place, sucking up to everyone, the Zimmskar Kingdom had the smallest gathering. It could have been the fact that the guards growled at anyone who came too close or the fact that they all looked at this whole event with disdain. At the end of the day, it was because they were weak. They were here to buy out their captured people. The fact that they had to resort to officially participating in the auction meant they lacked the military prowess to do anything about it.

Oh, Arione was sure that some slaves were from Turina or the Jayu States. But how would people know? Turina had elves, dwarves and even orcs. Same for the Jayu State. But Zimmskar? It was safe to say that almost all beastman called the kingdom their home.

He shook his head. “It’s still a bad idea. I know Jason personally. He’s not just strong, he’s cunning and smart. He’ll know what you’re doing immediately.”

“I won’t be doing the same thing that I did with the dwarves.” She looked across the rooftop, looking at the man in question. “I’ll be offering an exchange. Something that only I can offer.”

“Uh…” Arione’s mind went to the gutters. “Do you really need to go that far?”

Clover rolled her eyes. “Im going to offer him information. Information on the slaves that are for sale tonight.”

“That… could work.” Arione admitted.

In an auction like this, the whole point was to save your money to get the best bang for your buck. Spending too much in the early rounds of the auction meant you wouldn’t have enough funds when something you really wanted came out later. The reverse was also true, spend too little and it could have turned out that all the best products had been in the front.

Leaving with a purse full of coins was almost as bad as leaving with a bad deal; traveling to the Samak Desert wasn’t free. Not to mention the sheer cost of logistics of moving that many men. Having insider information on which slaves would come out during the auction could be a very powerful move.

“But he could have gotten that information from Damur.” Arione muttered, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“She’s a merchant. She’s out to make coins.” Clover said flatly. “A merchant wouldn’t jeapordize their own chance to make more money.”

“You’re wicked smart.” The mage sighed. “Fine. But promise me this, if they even show the slightest suspicion that we’re not who they say we are, I’m getting us out of here? And we go look for my apprentice first. We never decided on the order for who to look for.”

Clover paused.

That was true. They had never decided on the order.

And if they stirred up the hornet’s nest, then the clock would start ticking. The time they spent on finding Arione’s apprentice could mean that her friends would already be sold off by then.

Did she want to risk this?”

“Lock and L’teya are counting on me. I can’t just rely on Arione. I have to make some choices myself.”

Arione saw the look in her eyes and took his position, just behind her. “Remember, I’m right here.”

Clover walked towards the Akka Xalud Contingent, her eyes locked on the orange-haired warrior.

Kyrian Tricillan entered the orc temple unseen.

He entered the city three days ago, after Jason tried to get him hanged in Abay Munet’s place.

Kyrian managed to escape but he had underestimated how much spite the Akka Xaluds could hold. He wasn’t sure if it was Jason or one of his men, but they had sent word back to the Tricilo Family that their bastard son had disobeyed direct orders and deserted the frontlines. The words of the Great Houses of Turina were akin to law; his family had to respond in kind.

So the current patriarch, his half-brother Kristoff Tricilo had one of the maids killed and her head delivered to the Akka Xaluds as an apology.

The maid was Kyrian’s mother, lover of the late Tricilo Patriarch, his father.

Kyrian had always seen the Great Houses of Turina as heroes. He grew up with his head filled with tales about how the Great Houses of the Empire fought tooth and nail to build the world that they lived in.

The Vetilius House with their Lance and Shield, protecting the downtrodden and weak.

The Akka Xaluds who instilled fear in their enemies with Cores that mutilated their own bodies.

The Kojisa family with their magical arts shrouded in mystery.

It only took a year of being a mercenary mage for him to realize that those were fairy tales for children, to fuel their dreams of being adventurers. Adventurers who would go onto serve the Great Houses or the Turina Empire in one way or another.

He’d probably never get to bury his mother.

He had wanted to be a hero. How low did he fall? Hunting slaves instead of freeing them. Listening to men scream in pain everynight, because the Akka Xaluds needed an outlet for their anger. Seeing the other mercenaries fall deeper into the madness of the battlefield, Kyrian withdrew into himself. Sex, drinks, violence; there were no heroes here, just men and their desires brought out by blood.

Kyrian Tricilan was tired of following the orders of men who were no better than monsters. He was tired of calling them ‘my lord’, ‘my liege’ or even ‘sir’.

The blonde mage didn’t know what he should do nor why his footsteps led him here. All he knew was that something was going to happen and this was where it would. If something happened during the auction, he wanted to be a part of it. He wasn’t a hero, it was too late for that.

But he wanted to look Jason in the eyes just once and call him for what he was.

A murderer.