Chapter 32: Captive (9) (Patreon)

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Yulrien was continuing to check off the Cores and Monsters, reading off of the paper in his hand.

If possible, I didn’t want to fight here. Perhaps I could wait for him to leave and take the Cores for myself. No, I didn’t have a dimension ring and it was impossible for me to carry all the Incubators out. That meant I would have to level up in this room and absorb one of the Cores. Then I might be able to carry one of the Incubators out.

The Incubators were meant to go on sale at the auction, and I got a vicious sense of satisfaction from taking it.

Above the cacophony of the monster noises, I was sure that Yulrien hadn’t noticed me yet. The safest bet here was to wait for him to leave, kill a monster or two and take one of the Cores. But which one should I take?

It’d be really nice if I could take the Inmyun Ho (人面鴞) Core. As befitting of a grade-5 Core, it’d give me a ton of stats. It was a beige colored Core with three white orbs rotating around the central orb. Just from the color I could tell it would have the active ability [Hand in Hand]. It would give me a significant power up; it should have taken years to even find a Core of this level.

“Calm down. It’s not even mine yet.” But I couldn’t stop my heartbeat from rising along with excitement.

This was why I couldn’t quit this damned game no matter how many Game Overs I got in the real world. This sense of finding a new Core and wondering how much stronger I could get, finding new synergies and seeing it in action. Now that I was actually a living and breathing being in this world, the feeling was multiplied many times over. I could almost understand why I got backstabbed by NPCs so often in the game and forgive them for it. Almost.

“Now now, who do we have here?” Yulrien turned around with a smile.

I tensed, losing an entire second. I knew by now that a second could mean the difference between life or death. My hands moved, faster than I thought possible, reaching over my shoulders for the weapons. But my shield was still strapped in place by the leather strap, so I ended up unsheathing only the sword. It would have to do.

“You will pay me my due respect, Yulrien.”

It was Skurl’s voice.

So he hadn’t been talking to me.

If I had drawn my sword and shield together, they would have definitely found me due to the sound of metal scraping against one another. As it was, I stood in the shadows of the staircase, my sword halfway out of its sheath. My stomach felt hollow from the close call and my heart began to thump once more. Careful not to make a sound, I unsheathed the rest of my sword anyways just in case.

It felt like I just lost ten years off of my life.

I promised myself that once I was out of this place, never again will I strap my shield to my back the same way. I’d have to find a different method, easier to access at a moment’s notice. Precious lesson learned. It might save my life someday.

Skurl strode into view, the last few steps he took down the staircase billowed his wolf-cloak out behind him giving him the visage of a second-rate villain in an 80s movie. Thanks to that, I got a full view of his ass. I had forgotten he was naked beneath the cloak. Unpleasant, but I’d live. His dark green skin was covered with white paint, he didn’t have those the last time I saw him. Had it really only been a day?

“Please. I’m not keeping up that farce any longer than I have to. It makes me want to gag every time I have to kowtow to Madame Damur. I won't be doing it in private.” Yulrien’s voice had that playful edge again, his thirst for blood disappearing without a trace.

“Hmph.” The elderly shaman looked around at the monster cages, studying the contents within. If he was uncomfortable with so many of the manic animals in close proximity to him, he didn't show it. “Any word from our master?”

“No.” The glasses-elf turned to face the orc, leaning against the table with the Cores. “But he did manage to leave us a nice little present for tonight.”

Yulrien jerked his head towards the sleeping Shadow Mimic Wolf. “A named-variant of the Shadow Mimic Wolf. They call her Snow White.”

Skurl approached the cage, fascinated by the sedated creature. “How in the world did they capture a magnificent creature such as this?”

“Our masters said pretty please to the Kojisas.” The elf snickered. “Then sold it to the Madame using a fake name. She doesn’t even know that she’s just being used.”

Skurl circled the cage and then started to reach in a hand.

The elf was leaning against the desk one moment, the next he had Skurl’s forearm locked in an iron grip.

“Careful now, old man.” Yulrien warned, still smiling.

The shaman made a face and yanked his arm away. “The Kojisas? Do you mean the Great House?”

“Our masters found her and her Prince Charming in a dungeon. Then they brought in the Kojisas to put it to sleep just like now. They basically called in their Scions one by one, all but the Kojisa Patriarch himself, trying to capture the beast.” Yulrien walked over to the Cores, picking up one of the Incubators.

The Incubators were made mostly of metal and the size of a small child. Yet the elf picked it up with one hand. Either the lore I read about how heavy incubators were had been exaggerated and outdated, or Yulrien was both fast and strong. He held it out for Skurl to get a closer look.

The Core was a translucent black with three red orbs inside of it. It was labeled as belonging to the Shadow Wolf Mimic.

“This is what her Prince Charming dropped.”

That wasn’t how a Shadow Mimic Wolf’s Core was supposed to look like. A Shadow Mimic Core came in three colors; Completely black, translucent black with three floating orbs inside of it and gray with black swirling lines. The only way for that Core to belong to a Shadow Mimic Wolf would be if that monster had been a named variant as well. When Yulrien mentioned Snow White’s mate, ‘Prince Charming’, I thought he was being metaphorical.

Could it have been that there had been two Named Variants acting together?

This Core should have [Gloomy Disposition] and [Sadistic Mimicry]. But now, I couldn’t be sure. It was almost impossible to know the ability of Named Variants, they were randomly regenerated every game.

It didn’t matter though, I had my eyes set on the Inmyun Ho.

“Damn… if this was a game, I’d make one of my reserve party members absorb the Core just to study it.”

Still, the gamer in me was curious. Casting my thoughts aside, I returned to eavesdropping on Yulrien and Skurl's conversation.

“Pity. No one will know this was from a Named.” Skurl’s voice held deep regret.

It was natural that Skurl thought this way, but anyone who’d seen a Shadow Mimic’s Core before would recognize that this was a Core for a named variant of the Shadow Mimic Wolf due to the unique coloring and pattern.

I had felt it countless times while talking with L’teya, a barbarian who had been training to be a warrior her entire life. She seemed to be severely under underinformed on Cores. Such as the fact that different colored Cores from the same monster would contain different abilities and even the fact that monsters could drop different colored cores at all. It seemed that knowledge regarding Cores was a closely kept secret in this world and not everyone would be privy to that kind of secret.

Except me I guess. I hadn’t played 14 years of MSS just to kill time. Notebooks, forum posts and hours spent organizing data on the game was a testament to my dedication.

“Just remember the plan, old man. Once everyone’s attention is on the Cores, I will unlock the cages. Then our master’s agents will act during the distraction.”

“Yes.” The shaman took the incubator in two hands, turning it this way and that. “I will be sure to make sure no harm befalls our merchandise.”

“Good.” The elf took the incubator back and placed it on the desk. “Then we can both get what was promised to us.”

The shaman’s back was to me, but I heard him chuckle. “Your wish to get revenge on the Samak Horde came true after all. Although you had to hold hands with their most trusted Shaman.”

Yulrien glared at Skurl, but the shaman didn’t flinch.

“Hoho… Perhaps this old man spoke too much.” He smiled, the tips of his eyes curving downwards unnaturally low. “Though I do wonder what your lo-”

“Watch your mouth, old orc.” The elf whispered, all mirth gone. “If you even mention her with your filthy tongue, the Akka Xalud’s plans be damned, I’ll slit your throat where you stand.”

The threat didn’t scare the orc, he still had that hair-raising smile. But he didn’t say anything else.

“I’ve checked the monsters and their cages. They will be unlocked at the right moment.”

“How fitting! That the downfall of the Samak Horde will come from the hands of one of their most trusted, former Slave.” The Shaman clapped, his expression still mocking. “Then I leave it in your hands.”

Leaving Yulrien behind, he went back the way he came, by the large stairs. The elf stayed a moment longer and I saw his back heave, an obvious attempt to curb his temper. Then he too, left.

Neither had seen me.

My thoughts spiraled out of control, trying to connect the dots between the clues they dropped.

One. Yulrien was betraying the Samak Horde and Madame Damur.

Two. Skurl and he were working together to betray the Horde and Damur.

Three. They planned to kill everyone at the Auction using the Cores and the Monsters as a distraction.

Four. There was finally a clue to the mysterious organization that was gunning for the orcs: Akka Xaluds. Yulrien and Skurl were working for them.

Five. There was another passage out of this floor.

The fact that Yulrien was here and I didn’t see him come down must mean that there’s another way in and out besides the staircase. I couldn’t see them hauling the monster cages out of the caverns and then up all those stairs either. They wouldn’t want to risk their lives while transporting the monsters. The less work there was involved the better. There must be a waypoint somewhere, a teleport mechanism on the ground connecting one place to another.

After making sure that Yulrien was gone I shuffled to my feet and did a once over around the cage-room. Nothing. I was alone, no one was waiting for me. Staring at the Shadow Mimic Wolf, still trapped in its dream-like state, I edged myself over to the desk with the five Cores. I literally had my pick of the litter here, so to speak.

The question was, which one would be best?

Like before, I was leaning towards the Inmyun Ho. A grade-5 Core… It could be useful in any situation. But now, there were some other factors at play which I had to consider.

The fact that they were transporting monsters meant there were mages nearby. Mages I would need to kill or subdue in order to get to the teleportation circle. I also had to consider the Cores I already had. Until I got myself to a major city, I wouldn’t be able to erase any of my Cores. Taking the Inmyun Ho would give me a powerboost, but was it really the right choice in the current circumstances?

Ujo, the Core that turned my trash [Coin Toss] skill into something that let me kill those two orc guards without breaking a sweat. For now, this was the centerpiece of my build.

My choice was made. I turned towards some of the monsters who were still screaming bloody murder in their cages. I drew my sword and walked up to the Kappa with only one eye remaining, the other swollen and shut closed.

｢Lock Slaveborn casts [Coin Toss] ｣

…

｢[Arcane Masochism] raises [Speed]｣

I stabbed it in the forehead, heart and neck in quick succession. If I could have, I would have decapitated the creature but the bars were in the way. No way was I going to open the cage and release the creature, not when I could keep the bars between us. Also these bars probably kept the monsters suppressed, keeping them from using their abilities.

It died slowly, bleeding out from the three wounds.

I turned to the others. Now I really felt like a cheat character. I was basically getting a room full of monsters, incapacitated for me to kill. Then I could have my pick of the Cores laid out on the table. This was basically a room full of loot.

“Isn’t this like a mini hyper burning event?” I felt the corner of my mouth lift into a smirk.

“Shall I see how fast I can hit level 20?”

***

Kyrian Tricilan walked on the temple path, trying hard to be unseen.

The first floor of the temple was bustling with people, getting ready for the auction. Orcs went back and forth, carrying pieces of wood and setting up a large stage. He saw slaves belonging to other races with manacles around their necks, helping by setting up chairs and random decorations. These slaves wouldn’t be sold with the others; they were either too weak or not set apart enough to fetch a high piece. They’d spend the rest of their lives serving the Samak Horde.

The Tricilo Bastard felt pity for those souls, but knew that there was nothing he could do to help.

The general layout was a semicircle of chairs facing the stage that they were building now. A part of Kyrian was astonished at the speed with which the orcs were building the structures. It was obvious that they were no match for the dwarfs who were masters of architecture and construction. But the speed with which the orcs built, that was impressive.

He remembered holding his mother’s hand as a boy, watching the dwarves and their men work on the manor. The orcs were in the wrong business; if they could get over their pride as warriors and work with the dwarves in the construction market… it would be the latest craze among the nobles. Well, so he thought.

He wouldn’t know. He had lived in a tiny shack with his mom, set apart from the other servants and the family manor. The shack only had a small kitchen and living room, the floor of where he fell asleep to his mother telling him bedtime stories of the 6 Heroes and the 3 Great Houses. It was only once he became enrolled in the Mage Tower that he'd seen how normal people live.

A pang of pain went through him at the old memory. He had rented out a small house after he graduated from the Magic Tower. He had sent the invitation to his mother multiple times, to come and live with him. Each time, she sent a reply telling him that she was fine, and that he should keep the house. Kyrian should have gone and dragged her; even if he had to go against his brother’s wishes.

His mother had lived in that until she died, waiting for her son to come back.

He had wanted to do so much more. Become a great mage, a renowned academic and a powerful adventurer. Just a little more he kept telling himself... just a little more.

Now he'd never hear her voice. See her face. He'd never visited her once after becoming an adventurer.

Gods, he had been such a fool.

Kyrian strode on.

The mage walked through the crowd trying to find a familiar face or a clue as to what he should be doing. He was lost. He clearly felt the mana signature of the Akka Xaluds above him, though not sure how much higher. Kyrian wasn’t talented enough to pinpoint the direction of his targets, just the general location. Now that he was taking a good look though, he realized none of the real influential people were down here in the hall.

Most of them were stragglers, lower-ranking members of their respective factions. No one here was worth Kyrian’s attention.

Kyrian lacked the courage to go upstairs.

The mage lingered. If something did indeed happen at the auction he wanted to be here. Still, what could he realistically do? Did he really want to end it by calling Jason Carid a murderer to his face, and then become another nameless body out here in the sands? What would his mother think? Should he just forget about revenge?

Kyrian was no hero, nor was he brave. Even before the awaited hour came, his will wavered as many of ours often do. He started to doubt. He started to fear. The anger at his mother’s execution had died down from the roaring flame to glistening embers, no longer clouding his reason with emotion. But Kyrian wasn’t wrong to think this way; his mother truly would not want the young mage to die for her.

But still… Kyrian wanted to do something, he just lacked the courage to do so.

At the end of the day, he was just like everyone else. He faced death for his beliefs and fear of it held him back.

What he needed was someone who could show him the way. Someone who felt fear as he did, but forged the path for people like him so that they could follow.

Kyrian’s thoughts went back to the man he met back in the cave. The man with the eyes that seemed to defy death, willing Abay Munet and himself to draw their weapons and fight. His missing arm, scarred face and countless wounds spoke of the dangers he had overcome within the dungeon. A mere slave… with all the countenance of a hero.

The nameless slave who killed Abay Munet in a single blow.

“Did he make it back in one piece?” There was no way for an individual, no matter how strong, to make the trek across the Desolate Sands back into the Orc City.

Also, there was no guarantee that he even came back to this city. Who would? Nothing awaited him here except a life spent in chains.

But…

Kyrian was curious.

A simple question really; whether the slave was still alive or not.

Kyrian watched as a procession of orcs began to lead slaves out of a doorway. Peering behind them he saw a staircase that led deep down into the earth; far away from the high sky where the Akka Xaluds were.

Kyrian's mother always told him to reach for the sky.

｢Kyrian Tricilan casts [Minor Veil] ｣

Casting a quick spell to prevent others from paying too much attention to him, Kyrin slipped past the orcs, the crowd and everyone else too busy to wonder what a powerless mage like him was doing.

Step by step, he descended further.