Chapter 74: Errands (3) (Patreon)

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***

The fire spread like a virus.

In this place, the Slums, everything was built out of scrap metal, driftwood and unwanted.  The weather in Miltus was sunny and warm with the occasional rain.  A weather perfect for those who didn’t have much in the way of shelter, even in the Slums the few hours of sunlight kept people warm.  However, that very fact proved to be deadly.

The fire spread wild, uncontrolled, devouring the dozens of huts that the orcs had built and began to spread throughout the Slums all the way towards the other denizens.  I saw a family of dwarves rush out from a huge pile of scrap metal which began to glow red, superheated from the rising temperatures.  Beastmen with skin disease began coughing, taking off their cloaks to reveal scars and lesions; trying to snuff the fire out through sheer will.

“Put it out!”

“Over here!”

“Water! Water!”

In the Slums… there wasn’t much in the way of water.  We drew water from a nearby well, never stockpiling enough to last more than a few days.  There was no way to slow the fire down as it jumped from place to place.

The residents of Miltus must’ve seen the fire, it dyed the entire west side of town orange, blotting out the sky with a pillar of smoke so tall that it covered the sun.  They came over to watch… though none of them carried a pail or bucket to help.  The burning garbage stung our noses, most of us with enhanced [Smell] stats being forced to double layer our masks lest we pass out from the smell alone.

None of us could do anything as everything burned to ash.

As I watched the fire, Kyrian walked up next to me.

“Did you find out what happened?”  I already knew the answer to my question.

This fucking game was toying with me.  Toying with the lives of my people.  Creating events-

No.  Not the game.

“Two men.  No one got a good look at them.  A dwarf and maybe an elf or human.  They came into the village and began lighting everything on fire.  Jak’tur and his warriors couldn’t catch them, even the Wolf Berserkers.”  Kyrian explained.  “Probably hired adventurers.”

The Slum Lord.  That was my theory anyway.

This was a warning of sorts.  To leave his territory.

If he hired adventurers, that meant he could have inflicted more damage than simply burning down the shoddy buildings.  He could have left wounded behind, or worse –taken lives.

“We’ve been here barely a month and he’s already-”  My words got caught in my throat.

A group of orc kids began to wail at the same time as the orc woman began to cry.

Their cry was horrible.  Loud and high-pitched, it carried all the emotions that words couldn’t convey alone.  Hopelessness, loneliness and the sense that they were asking a question: Will we ever have a home again?

Because in the short month we’d been here.  That’s what it had become.

Home.

I looked around, it wasn’t just the orcs who were affected.  The original residents of the Slums were homeless as well, staring off into space.  It wasn’t like they could start rebuilding.  There was nothing to rebuild with.

Everything had been wiped clean.

“...Lock?”  Kyrian asked.  “What do you want to do?”

I turned, seeing Kyrian looking at me; his eyes boring into mine.

A billion questions and temptations surged to the thoughts, barreling their way through all other thoughts about how I should be helping and making a plan.  Instead, self-preservation came to the front; screaming and thumping on its chest.  Aurora was going to pay Skaris and Kyrian tomorrow, we should use that money to book an inn.  As adventurers we could make a ludicrous living.  I could just forget about these orc people –as Jak’tur had said, I’d done enough by just bringing them here– and forcus on my own goals.  Becoming stronger, gathering Cores and Items, farming monsters and getting involved with more quests.

Figuring out a way back home.

Instead, I took a deep breath and calmed myself.

Once you made a decision, you had to see it through to the end.

“Today, let’s salvage what we can.  I’m leaving towards Yousef tomorrow to talk to him about the Colosseum fight.  I’ll see if he can do anything to help.  You and Skaris…”  I chewed on my lip, thinking.

“Find out more about the Black Market in the Jayu States.  This Slumlord, he’s definitely involved somehow.  But we need proof.  Ask around the residents, don’t spook anymore.”  We had to get more information about this guy.  “Also Aurora shoulder have reposited your payments into the Guild Accounts.  Pick that up from the Guild and bring over some supplies, food, water, medicine.”

“Do you want us to hire a Priest?”

I spat to the side.  “If they were truly Priests or Priestesses, they’d have been down here already.”

“That’s true.”  Kyrian agreed and the mage looked down at the crying orc children.

They were joined by the children of the original Slum residents.  They cried together as one, mournful cry of children broken up by the sobbing of women.  Some of the older Slum Folk were moving through the burnt wreckage with the orc warriors, trying to see what was left.  Teenagers patted the babies on the back, trying to get them to stop coughing from the smoke while their mothers joined the men on their search.

I watched as a group of orcs heaved together as one, moving a particularly large sheet of metal –burning their hands in the process– to get at a group of dwarves and humans trapped underneath.  They ran out like rats, coughing and collapsing.

One of them was clutching a bundle of clothes at her chest.  The dwarven woman, a mother, scrabbled at it desperately, her fingers trembling.  She had burn marks all over her back, no doubt gained from protecting the small mass.

I turned away as they unwrapped the bundle of cloth and the cry of the mother –the most horrible sound I’d ever heard– echoed in this desolate place.

***

“It’s been awhile, young master.”

Yousef’s office was the same as before.  Extravagant and golden, an excess display of wealth decorated every corner of his room.  Golden statues of dwarves, paintings that looked well-made even to my untrained eye and staff that waited on his hand and foot.  The dwarf was wearing a shirt adorned with golden hoops, mirrored by the gold rings on his fingers.

It was a strange feeling, having just come from sleeping underneath the stars with the glowing embers that had reduced our meager homes to dust.

Coming from a Slave background, seeing how Samak City was; how the homeless people of Miltus in the Slums lived, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of disgust for Yousef.  Normally, I didn’t detest him; frankly I quite liked his honest greed.  He was a businessman through and through.  But today, his opulence seemed just a bit too much, just a little bit dull and outlandish when I’d just come having buried the bodies of children who never lived to see a birthday cake.

It was like the Han who lived in skyscrapers and had millionaire parents had been overwritten by Lock.  Like my brain had become that of a Slave, not just stuck in a videogame.

I sighed.  I needed Yousef.  I needed his gold, I needed his connections.

“Likewise.”  I breathed, sinking into the couch.  “I came to talk.”

“Oh yes, we have many things to talk about.”  Yousef’s eyes twinkled, like he was in a candy shop.  “But first, I’d like to talk about your Colosseum Match.”

He held up a finger.  “One week.  I have scheduled your match for one week from now.”

“So barely enough time to get Skaris his [Evolution] started and get Kyrian his Mana Core.  There’s also time to go farm my fourth Core as well which shouldnt be hard.  It’ll belong to a grade-8 monster anyways.”  I nodded.

“Of course, I’ll provide the transportation, the lodging, the food and even equipment should you need-”

“No.”  I glanced down at my Dimension Ring.  “I don’t need any equipment.  I’ll fight with what I have.  More than that, I want to talk about my opponent.”

Yousef clapped, delighted.  “Oh yes! I had to pull a few strings to make it happen! But you arriving back from the Fracture successfully plus the rumors floating about you helped! I got you an experienced fighter.  Not one of those green, fresh-out-of-the-dungeon newbies.”

“Who is it?”

“Dorocian Kojisan.”  Yousef handed me a picture.  “We call her Dorothy.”

A girl with pale skin looked out at me from the photo.  She had turquoise eyes, a shade somewhere between light blue and teal with neatly braided black hair running down her back.  Her hair had a single streak of blue intertwined into the braid, drawing my eyes.  As if the name wasn’t enough, her sharp and almost too perfect features alerted me to her noble heritage.  I felt my lips curl in distaste; the name was hint alone.

A Bastard from the Turina Empire of one of the Three Great Houses.

“Tell me about her.”

“She’s part of the faction at the Colosseum that belongs to Turina, composed only of Bastards from the Great Houses and lesser Nobility.”

“There are factions at the Colosseum?”  I was not aware of that, but it made sense.

“Of course.  Turina has two groups by themselves, the Parthenon, made of bastard Scions as well as a sponsored team by the Adventurer’s Guild from Turina.  Jayu does not have any official sponsored groups, though we do have individual merchants with their own fighters and teams.  Zimmskar, the Delirious Barbarians and even the pale-skinned Orc tribes had their own group.”  He pointed at me, beaming.  “Young Master, you’d be representing my own merchant company: Leaf and Metal.”

He slid over a small pin.  Just like the namesake which it represented, it was a small leaf made of metal.

“The two strongest groups right now are the Parthenon and the Zimmskar’s group, Zoo.”  Yousef continued his explanation.  “You actually met a man from Zoo, he goes by the name of Track.”

Damn, either nothing was a secret in this town or I was involved with people who had access to information as soon as it was available.  Probably the latter.

“Dorocian Kojisan is actually ranked 4th or 5th most powerful in the Parthenon.  In the Colosseum Rankings, she’d rank around the mid-teens.  She made it all the way towards 11th place though.”  

He handed me another piece of paper, this time with words.

I stumbled through the words since I was next best to illiterate in this world.  Man, screw the MSS education system.  Worse than America, I swear.

“Just tell me about her.  What you saw, what she’s like.”

“She summons various beasts and stays back.”  Yousef shrugged.  “I apologize, young master.  I am not well-versed enough to explain her fighting style to you.”

I folded the paper, tucking it away to ask Kyrian about it later.  “Personality?  Anything is fine, even if it’s a rumor.”

“Hmmm.  They say she’s very… vindictive.  One, Turina sent over a group of fighters and one of them was an actual Scion; not a bastard with the -an name.”  The dwarf sighed.  “As you can guess, we were keeping an eye on him.  An actual Scion joining the Colosseum is rare.  Word is that Dorothy cut off both his arms and sent him back to Turina because he’d insulted her.”

I scoffed remembering Kyrian’s tales about Scions.  “That sounds very typical of Scions.”

He shrugged.  “The Parthenon keeps to themselves.  I’ll say this though, they are all extremely devoted and loyal to each other; their bonds forged by something beyond mere friendship.”

I grimaced.  Of course, people with similar pains, similar background and similar experiences fighting for their lives in a Colosseum? Of course they’d be close; they’d be more than just a group held together by a common goal and strength.  There’d be lovers, genuine friendship and a trust that transcended what a mere mercenary group might have.  In his own way, Yousef was warning me.

If I beat Dorothy in a bad way, I’d be painting a target on my back.

Which was fine.  Because my goal for the Colosseum wasn’t just to fulfill my promise to Yousef and pay him back; it was to rise to the top and reap the rewards.  It was just one step among many to becoming strong.

The number of my enemies were growing which meant I needed more opportunies for growth.

Becoming strong enough to protect myself… and my comrades.

“What do I get?”

“2000 gold just for participating and 10,000 if you win.”  Yousef answered easily.  His stumpy fingers passed over a stack of coins towards me.  “Most of the money went towards getting her to accept.”

12,000 gold… not enough to pay back everyone but I could pay back Yousef for getting the Orcs to Jayu from Samak Desert.

It was too bad I needed other than gold.

“I don’t need 2000 gold.  What I need are supplies for the people in the Slums. Food.  Temporary Shelter.  Those kinds of things.”  I slid the coins across the table, back towards Yousef.

He crossed his arms, guarded.  “Young Master.  I heard what happened.  I believe it would be smart for you to-”

I shook my head before he could finish his sentence.  “No.  I won’t leave them.”  I stared at Yousef, measuring him.  “Food.  Temporary Shelter.  Supplies.  Plus information about the Slum Lord.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“You’re the one who chose me.”  I leaned forward.  “Trust me.  I won’t lose.”

What Yousef told me about Dorothy rang a few bells about what build she could be using.  She was most likely using a summoner build, in which you focused your build into a hybrid –summoning monsters to fight alongside you while retaining some basic Cores to fight alongside them.  It was used when you didn’t want ot travel with a party.  The upside was that it was extremely efficient.  The downside?  The higher you got, the higher rarity and value of Cores you needed.  The initial growth was fast then it started to taper off, most of your time spent grinding for Cores and equipment.

A Knight against a Summoner… as long as she couldn’t use [Aura], I’d be fine.  If Aurora wasn’t taught [Aura] because she was a bastard, I was sure that this Dorocian Kojisan wouldn’t have been taught any [Aura] either.

“I can provide you with all those things after you win.”

“Food, shelter and supplies today.”  I pushed, seeing Yousef’s body language relenting.  “Information about the Slum Lord can come after.”

He’d just burned down our homes.  He’d lay low for a while.

Yousef was quiet.

“Why do you care for them?”

I cocked my head to the side, thinking I’d misheard him.  “Excuse me?”

“There are many reasons for you to not care for them.  They were your slavers.  They enslaved you and your family, you wouldn’t be in this life if it weren’t for them.  Then there’s the fact that you are human and that they are orcs.”  Yousef was deathly still, his voice suddenly serious.  “I’ve never seen a human care for orcs or any other race for that matter.  I’m promising you wealth, prestige and comfort inside of my own home.  Why are you insisting on taking the hard route?”

“Yes.  The orc warrior who made you promise to take care of his people.  But it’s been months since his death.  Surely you don’t feel a sense of obligation towards a man who you barely knew.”  Yousef’s eyes peered at me then spoke in an almost whisper.  “They are not your responsibility, Young Master.  You do not have to chain yourself to them.”

“Yousef…”  I could tell from Yousef’s voice that this conversation was something different.  He wasn’t just looking for my answer and asking questions about motives, but something else was there.  Something… something more that the Dwarf was looking for.

“Are you not tempted? At all, Young Master?”

I smiled at him, as soft as I could manage.  “Of course I am.”

“Then take my offer.  Stay in my house.  Your people are welcome too; be my official fighters in the colosseum, not just this temporary contract.”

I mulled over it for an entirety of one second.  “No.  I have no intention of going under someone else.”

The dwarf nodded, slowly.  “Aye, you don’t seem like the type.”  He reverted to dwarf-speech for just a second before speaking like his merchant-self.  “You have not answered my question.”

“Because…” I opened my fingers and closed them, repeatedly.  “Because it’s right.”

I gestured at the room around us.  “Yousef, yesterday those people lost everything.  Not just the orcs, but even the Slum Dwellers.  Yet today when I walked in here…”  I struggled to come up with the right words.  “I saw houses.  Mansions.  Wealth beyond what I ever saw as a Slave; even the Warchief of the Samak Horde.  Yet… yet no one was helping us.”

“Beastman didn’t help beastman, and humans didn’t help humans.  So why can’t a human help an orc?”  I sighed, shaking my head.  “It was never about rac.  And to be frank, it’s not about the promise anymore.  I made a decision to help them, I must see it to the end.”

“All of you ask me how a human can help an orc or a dwarf.  How I should be treating others based on the shape of their ears, the color of their skin or their heights.”  I thought of the numerous conversations I had in the Fracture, of Skaris and Kyrian’s outburst in the Slums and even my conversation with Yosuef just now.  My heart grew how and spittle flew out of my mouth.  “We treat each other like dirt based on our race.  Yet, we don’t lift a finger to help our own when it really matters.  We only help others when they can do something for us.  The downtrodden, the filthy, the poor and the hungry.  Who’s going to help them?”

“I buried a baby yesterday, Yousef.  A baby.”  I closed my eyes.  “It wasn’t the first time.”

“Before we met you, I learned something about the orcs.”  I remembered us making the trek in the desert.  Hungry.  Thirsty.  Desperate.  “The elderly went first, being left behind because they couldn’t keep up.  Then the babies.  Then the adults.  Then the children for last.  To conserve food, to give those with us now the best chance for survival.”

I took a deep breath, finishing by gesturing at the room around us and at Yousef’s attire.  My voice had become increasingly heated as I spoke.  “If I covered myself in gold and watched people starve to death, I could never live with myself.”

“People lie.  People cheat.  People kill each other for a scrap of bread in the Slums.  They do all sorts of unspeakable things to each other.  Yet…”  I picked up a piece of gold coin from the pile, turning it over in my hand.  With this… with this I could feed three or four families for a day.  Not a feast but… but something.

Something was better than nothing.

Yousef had stayed silent throughout my small speech, head starting to tilt downwards more and more.

“You could do things, Yousef.  You could change lives.  By the gods man, you could help people.”  I got up to leave.  “More so than I ever could.”

It was true.  I was just an adventurer who spoke with his sword and that worked in Dungeons.  But out here? In a city?

The Coin was mightier than the Sword.

I cleared my throat, slightly embarrassed at my fervor. After all, I was just an adventurer without any real power yet. Yousef on the other hand... well, he was an important person to this Country. Damn, it was like a office worker giving a moral lecture to a millionaire governor.

“I’d appreciate the supplies today.  And if you have any information about the orc I asked you about last time, Arrosh, I’d appreciate it.”  I had asked Marc Pointell about Arrosh as well, though no luck as of yet.  For now, this was all I could do.

“I will let my people know, Young Master.”

While leaving his office, I though to myself: Did I believe the Dwarf could change?  Hell no.  But maybe… maybe somewhere down the line, he would be less of what he was.  Less of a dwarf obsessed by fame, money and politics.  Maybe one day, he’d set aside funds for helping people.  Maybe one day, he’d decide to open up a small school or scholarship.  Maybe… just maybe, he’d do more good than he was doing now.

Atleast, I wanted to believe that a dwarf with a big heart could make great things happen.

Leaving the selfish dwarf behind to think, I left the gold and jewel-laden manor; back to the Slums.

To home.

***