Soul Caller 1 - Chapter 36 (Patreon)

Frozen in shock, the other prospectors stared in the direction the shot had come from, seeing nothing but thick brush at the top of the canyon wall. After a moment, their self-preservation instincts kicked in and they hurried to try to find cover. There was very little to choose from on the steep slope, and a couple of them turned and sprinted down the hill as fast as they could, one of them slipping and tumbling, rolling into some rocks. A few of the others laid down where they were, trying to take cover behind some of the larger stones that littered the path.

Merrick lay absolutely still, his head pressed low to the ground, as he waited for the return fire. Sure enough, the prospectors, though they couldn't see him, knew what general direction he had fired from, and so lifted their rifles, beginning to shoot up towards the edge of the canyon wall. Most of the shots went high, passing above Merrick's head, but one clipped the lip of the canyon wall, sending dirt spraying over Merrick's face and body. Still, he didn't move.

Only when his rifle had recharged did he inch his way forward, his eyes rising to find his next target. There was one man who was hugging close to the canyon wall, hoping that it allowed him to remain out of sight. Merrick could see part of his shoulder and back, and without hesitating, lifted his rifle to fire. Far in the distance, he could see the other prospectors running towards him, and as he unleashed his shot, he didn't wait to see if he had hit, instead fading back into the brush.

When he was far enough from the canyon that he knew their shots wouldn't be able to reach him, Merrick stood and broke into a run, grabbing his pack from where he had stored it behind a tree and sprinting as fast as he could into the mountains. Manatech rifles were unbelievably powerful, but had the downside of revealing exactly where the shooter was positioned and if Merrick wanted to come out of this contest ahead, he was going to have to keep moving. He was confident that he had eliminated two more of the prospectors, which left ten to go, and a moment later Merrick was able to confirm he was correct when an experience notification popped up.

[Ding! Twelve experience points.]

The mountains rose tall before Merrick, and as he began his ascent, his mind was filled with what was to come. Having left the canyon already, there was a chill in the air. He had seen the prospector's thick coats, a clear indication that the weather up in the mountains was not nearly so pleasant, and that the spring was not nearly as mild as on the canyon floor. A fierce wind stirred the leaves of the trees as he passed through the thick forest, and soon the canyon couldn't be seen anymore. Thankfully, he had a clear memory of the path that he had taken to get to the canyon, and suspected that the prospectors had walked a similar path.

Taking out his map as he moved, he opened it up, examining the surrounding terrain. It took him a moment to determine exactly where he was, but once he had, his mind began to plot the next ambush. He could have stayed longer to fight at the rim of the canyon, but his instinct, based on his memories of the Warrior and his understanding of how manatech weapons worked, prompted him to move. It was simply too dangerous to engage in a direct fight without cover that could block the manatech rifle shots. The beam of pure mana that they threw could pierce through five to six inches of solid stone, and the edge of the canyon had offered little to no protection. Rather than risk getting hit, he thought it a better idea to move back and re-stage another ambush further up the path. He had the absolute advantage, as he was ahead of the prospectors and could hide while waiting for them to pass. The challenge was going to be staying ahead, as every time he stopped to wait for them to catch up, he would be risking that they would overtake him, making it impossible for him to retreat.

The power of the manatech rifle he had was part of what made Merrick confident, but he knew to respect that same power in the hands of his enemies. Five of the prospectors had already fallen, and the others would be cautious. Yet he wasn't concerned that they would remain in the canyon or even take another route. As he ran through the forest, he had been examining the map, and it was clear that there were no other smooth roads through the mountains. Of course, he didn't discount the fact that they might go off the trail, not wanting to risk running into another ambush. But that was an incredibly dangerous prospect in and of itself, as the wilds would likely claim their lives faster than he could. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more Merrick thought it might be a good idea to try to do just that. Forcing them off the trail would reduce his risk, and though he liked the idea of hunting all of them himself, he wasn't foolhardy enough to not take the help that the land could provide.

More importantly, however, it would allow him to reach his goal of burying all of the prospectors here. He assumed that Vale had managed to crawl his way back to the town he had come from, and that the new group of prospectors had followed his directions here, but he wasn't sure about that. It was possible that others knew of the mine's location as well, and there would be more prospectors soon coming to look for it. That's why he had blown the entrance closed, wanting to ensure that it would be as difficult as possible to find. The only other step was to bury the ten remaining prospectors in the mountains, ensuring that they could not take word of the collapse back to those who had hired them.

A thought straggled through Merrick's mind, and for a moment he wondered if he was doing the right thing by attacking the prospectors first. He could have spoken with them, trying to understand who they were and where they were from, but the memory of Vale's betrayal and the death of Barak weighed too heavily on him, and barely had the thought appeared before he dismissed it out of hand. No, it was better if the strangers never found the mine. He wasn't sure why that feeling was so strong in him, but it burned in his heart, casting long shadows over his thoughts. As much as possible, he needed to keep the manastones out of the hands of the strangers.

With a sigh, he refocused his attention. The climb had gotten steep, and rather than winding around in the trail, he took a path directly uphill. His legs carried him up the hill in graceful bounds, as if he was on flat ground, and he recognized the Land Strider skill at work. Marveling at its efficiency, he felt like he could keep running for hours, no matter how high the mountains got. Every so often he would pause, double-checking his map to make sure he was on the right route, and taking a moment to look behind him, listening just in case he could hear the prospectors. He was a few miles from the canyon by this point, and assumed that it would take them some time before they started their return journey.

His goal was a spot that he remembered from the last time he walked this path, a bend in the road along the side of a hill that was particularly exposed. Some two hundred and fifty feet away, there was an overhanging boulder along the path that protruded out over the path slightly. It was here that he would set his trap. Continuing to move, he kept a steady pace, not wanting to tire himself out. Though he could run for a long time, it still took considerable strength to climb the mountains and the steep slope taxed his strength so he occasionally slowed down to a brisk walk, regulating his breathing to regain his energy before resuming his jog.

When he finally arrived at the location he remembered, he knew it would be perfect. At the overhang, he set a simple trap, running a length of tendon across the path and attaching it to a stick that rested against the boulder. Climbing up and around the large boulder that loomed over the path, he planted three manastones from his pack, making sure that they were still visible from higher up on the mountain. Once everything was in place, he moved further up the mountain, settling down behind a tree whose trunk forked. Once again, it was time to wait. He estimated that the prospectors were likely at least half a day behind him, but to his surprise, less than three hours had passed before they showed up.

From the looks of them, they were hoping to out pace their attackers and their eyes warily scanned the area as they passed. They didn't have much of their gear, which had been buried under tons of rock falling from the canyon wall, but each of them carried a rifle in their hands, which made them a significant threat. Watching them from high up on the side of the mountain, Merrick did his best to memorize each of their appearances. The prospector out front bore a fierce scowl as he hurried along, seeming to care little for the others who struggled behind.

They were spread out over a nearly 150-foot stretch of the path, causing Merrick to frown. He had been hoping to find them more clumped together, but they were too wise for that. Lifting his rifle, he took aim at the fifth prospector in the line, a slight man with a narrow squint and a shock of bright red hair. The distance was considerable, and Merrick wasn't sure that he was going to be able to make the shot, but his goal wasn't to kill someone so much as it was to scare them.

Tracking the prospector for a moment, he fired, and just as he had suspected, his shot was slightly low, tearing through the prospector's leg. With a scream, the man dropped his rifle and clutched at his torn leg, falling to the ground, causing the others to scatter for cover. Most of them had been exposed on the curve of the road that rounded the hill, and those in front raced for the shelter of the overhang. They had all seen the direction the shot had come from, the bright beam stark against the green foliage, and a few of them turned and returned fire immediately.

By that point, Merrick, knowing better than to stay in place, had already moved, slipping quietly from his position to a new spot out of sight, fifteen feet away. Counting carefully in his head, he listened, tapping into the song of the world as his ears fed him information. He could hear the shouts from the prospectors, the pounding of their feet as they ran for cover, the blasts of their rifles as they peppered the tree where he had just been with shots. Just when he estimated that at least a few of them had sought cover under the overhang, he heard the sound of the stick he had set up falling down with a clatter and aimed downhill once again, locked in on the bright, gleaming manastones at the top of the boulder. Carefully squeezing off another shot, he watched with gratification as the manastones exploded, ripping the boulder free from the earth and sending it smashing down on the prospectors hiding underneath it. Shouts and curses rose up as the prospectors, caught off guard once again, desperately tried to get out of the way of the exploding boulder.

[Ding! Six experience points.]

Hearing the notification, Merrick knew that he had been lucky. One of the prospectors had been directly in the boulder's path and had been unable to get away as the stone, transformed into deadly shrapnel by the blast, had cut him down. Merrick's primary goal had been to wound the prospectors to make their travel as difficult as possible, but he would take any kill that he could get. Grabbing his bag, he began to move through the brush again as shots blasted overhead. Rather than go up the mountain, he went around its side, keeping as quick a pace as he could on the steep slope. Up ahead, the path curved and rose, and he soon rejoined it, his stride lengthening as he picked up speed. Behind him, he could still hear the occasional snap of rifle fire, but he was content with the damage his ambush had done.

Traveling without supplies through the mountains was dangerous enough, but traveling while wounded was nearly a death sentence. Merrick understood just how dangerous such a thing was, and it was his goal to put as much burden on the prospectors as possible. They would have to be wary, watching out for future ambushes, which would exhaust them even further. At the same time, Merrick had felt doubt creep into his mind. He had not seen the bearded prospector who had led the group, which was concerning. The burly man had given him a dangerous feeling, and Merrick didn't like the fact that he had dropped out of sight.

A few hours later the sun had begun to set, and Merrick, who had been traveling all day, found himself exhausted. He had been keeping tabs on the prospectors, matching their pace while keeping a few miles ahead, and now, taking a turn off of the path and heading deeper into the forest, he decided to set up camp. Spending the night in the mountains was a dangerous endeavor, but he found a spot that looked like it would work, and hastily erected the buckskin tent that he had made in preparation for his trip back to the village. It was a simple structure consisting of a floor, three poles, and a length of buckskin to go around it, creating a small cocoon that was open on one side. It was only big enough for him to sit in, which was fine as Merrick didn't need to lay down since he wasn't planning on sleeping. He began his meditation after eating a quick meal of jerky, using the Song of the World to replenish the energy he had exhausted.