Chapter 141 - Captive (Patreon)

Carlos clawed his way back to consciousness, pushing through some ephemeral barrier that he supposed was a skill. One of the benefits of investing so much into his intelligence and wisdom stats was that he was incredibly durable against magical attacks, both physical and mental in nature. His mystic path further enhanced those resistances, even if he hadn’t unlocked the stat yet. Few achieved that benchmark before level twenty-five, and even then, it was difficult and dangerous. Even so, whoever had cast the skill upon his consciousness didn’t have the power to keep him from waking. And they knew it.

“He’s awake,” came a soft voice.

A kick to Carlos’s ribs drove the breath from his lungs. He coughed, ruining that thin veneer of feigned unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, and he had to blink a few times before his vision began to clear. When it did, he took in his surroundings. The cell – and that’s plainly what it was – was lit by rudimentary torches and constructed of rugged stone blocks, with various metal anchors studying its walls. From those anchors hung dark, metal chains that pulsed with power. A similar set were attached to manacles at his wrists, ankles, and throat. Carlos recognized them, and with that recognition came with a sense of despair. For he knew where he was.

“Ah, that’s what I live for,” said another voice. Carlos glanced to one of the cell’s shadowy corners and saw the outline of a thin figure. He stepped forward, revealing himself to be a man of average height and olive complexion. He had dark hair and an immaculately trimmed goatee. Deep-set, amethyst eyes focused on Carlos, drilling into him with uncommon focus. “That moment right there, when he realized just how hopeless his situation is. He covered it quickly, but he knows he’s finished. He’s mine, now.”

Carlos didn’t need to inspect the man to know his identity. He’d known him for years, ever since he’d joined the Spiders what felt like a lifetime ago. “Julian,” he spat. Sitting up, he mustered what confidence he could before adding, “Let me go. Now. If the guild knew –”

“They don’t know you’re here,” Julian stated, stepping closer. The thin man knelt beside him, then reached out with one, long finger to run its tip along Carlos’s cheek. “You always were a pretty boy. Such a shame.”

“And you’re a creepy asshole,” Carlos growled, jerking his head away. Shackled and chained as he was, he couldn’t move very far. “What do you want?”

Julian gave an exaggerated frown before straightening to his full, unimpressive height. The man wore skintight leather pants and a white tunic, open to reveal much of his chest. His boots bore a chunky heel, which gave him an extra inch or two of height. Carlos knew that the man’s signature long, dark coat would be nearby.

“You, of course,” the man said, holding out his palm and summoning a bit of dark, purple energy that soon resolved itself into the rough shape of a bird. Carlos knew the man by his given name – Julian Asino – but almost everyone else in Jariq knew him by the name he’d long ago adopted: the Raven. “I want you, Carlos.”

“Sorry – not my thing,” Carlos said, forcing a lopsided grin. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

Julian stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. His own smile spread across his face before he said, “Oh, you always were an insolent one, weren’t you? But no – my interest in you is not…it does not go in that direction. No, I’m more interested in what you can do for me. Veronica, please step forward.”

The room’s other occupant, the originator of the kick which had woken Carlos, stepped into the flickering firelight. Before Carlos could even process her appearance, she had her hand on his head, and bright, white light enveloped his vision. It was only a second later that he heard a scream. His vision cleared, and he saw the girl crumpled on the dusty, stone floor, quivering in the fetal position.

“So full of surprises,” Julian said. “I would love to see your status. What is your wisdom? One-fifty? Two-hundred? More? With mental defenses like that, you must have invested quite a few points into the stat.”

Shaking his head, Carlos muttered, “What did you just try to do to me?”

“Just because I look like a supervillain doesn’t mean I intend to monologue like one,” Julian said. “Not that it matters. In a few more hours, I’ll have someone stronger in here. Then, you’ll be far more cooperative. Until then…”

A shudder went up Carlos’s spine, but he maintained a defiant glare as someone stepped into the cell and dragged the still-trembling Veronica away. Julian soon followed, but not before flashing a knowing smile. Carlos’s teeth ground together as the thin man shut the cell’s door, leaving Carlos to his own thoughts. And they weren’t good.

Julian Asino was a powerful figure within the Crystal Spiders, and given that Carlos had been taken by the Jaguar’s chief enforcer, he was obviously working with the other gang. That, in and of itself, wasn’t cause for alarm. Many of the Crystal Spiders had interest outside of the assassin’s guild. However, taking a fellow member of the guild hostage was something else entirely; couple that with the fact that Julian had obviously just tried to influence Carlos’s mind, and it was enough to raise the captive man’s hackles.

Carlos rose to his feet, an action only barely permitted by the short chains. He tried to embrace his skill, [Umbral Steps], but the moment the energy started to flow from his core, it hit a wall, where it stopped. The skill failed.

“Dammit,” he muttered, though he wasn’t surprised. He’d recognized the chains for what they were – Null Bindings. Created by a skilled smith working with an equally skilled runecrafter, and using a wide variety of expensive materials, including the blood of a particular bat that lived in the depths of the Pits of Hell, the chains only had one purpose – to cut a person off from his skills. And from everything Carlos knew, it was very good at that task. Usually, it only took a collar to accomplish that job, so given that he was currently bound by manacles on both his wrists and ankles, as well as the collar around his neck, he knew that he wouldn’t soon have access to his skills.

But Carlos was more than just his skills. Because they belonged to the same organization, Julian knew Carlos’s strengths and weaknesses. Likely, he’d read the guild’s file, which categorized him as something of a glass cannon. Strong skills, preference for fighting at range, and good mobility, coupled with low physical stats. No doubt, that knowledge was why they had taken such precautions in the first place. The Null Bindings would block his skills, and once that happened, he would pose no real threat.

However, those same Null Bindings, as powerful as they were, had a weakness. The process of forging them made them brittle. It weakened the metal, and as such, anyone with a strength over fifty could, theoretically, break them. According to Carlos’s file, he didn’t meet that standard – a piece of misinformation he’d cultivated some time ago. The guild didn’t know about all his achievements. They didn’t know that he’d passed that threshold before he’d even joined the Crystal Spiders.

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust his guild. He didn’t, of course – it was a den of assassins and murderers – but it was more that he didn’t really trust anyone. He kept his cards close to his chest; information was too valuable to treat otherwise, and it had saved him more times than he could count.

After a few minutes of waiting to make sure that both Julian and Veronica were gone, Carlos stood. Taking hold of the chain, which was warm to the touch, he braced his foot against the stone wall. Then, utilizing every point of his eight-four strength, he heaved. The chain gave a high-pitched screech before the link closest to the wall snapped. Shards flew across the cell, some clanging against the bars and starting his internal timer.

The next chain’s weakest link turned out to be the second closest to the manacle itself, and the ones holding his legs to the wall snapped closer to the center of the chains. He didn’t care about the excess, so long as he remained free. Footsteps echoed down the hall outside his cell, and Carlos could see the bobbing light of a torch. He sank to the floor, curling up next to the wall.

The footsteps shuffled to a stop, and a burly guard held a torch up as he peered into the cell. “You – what was that noise?” the man demanded.

Carlos didn’t answer. Instead, he remained on the floor, curled into a ball and shivering slightly. Another more feminine voice muttered, “You think he’s hurt? Should we check on ‘im?”

“Boss won’t be happy if he’s hurt,” said the first guard.  Carlos opened one eye, and he saw the two figures in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t inspect them without better focus, but he knew Julian wouldn’t have wasted anyone truly valuable on guard duty. If they were over level fifteen, Carlos would’ve been incredibly surprised.

“Why’s he shakin’?” asked the female guard.

“How should I know?” said the other. “Maybe he’s sick. Or maybe it’s whatever they did to ‘im. Some of ‘em die, remember.”

“We should check him, then,” the woman responded. “Just in case. You go in, and I’ll cover you.”

“Why’s it gotta be me?” the man complained. “You can go in just as easy as me.”

“Just go, okay? I’ll go next time.”

The man let out an audible groan, almost like a child who’d been told to clean his room. Then, Carlos heard the sound he’d been waiting for – a key turning in the cell’s lock. He remained still as the door screeched open and the man’s heavy footsteps led him into the cell. Carlos continued to tremble, even as the man knelt beside him.

“What do I do now?” asked the guard, resting his hand on Carlos’s hip. That he hadn’t noticed that Carlos’s chains had detached from the wall was a minor miracle, but given that no one put the cream of the crop on guard duty, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising. In any case, the moment the man let the last word leave his mouth, Carlos sprung into action.

In an instant, he was on his feet. His hand lashed out in a backhand chop as it slammed into the base of the guard’s skull. It wasn’t enough to put him down, but it was more than adequate for Carlos’s purposes. He turned his backhand into a spin, and his heel came around, propelled by every point of his strength and guided by his equally impressive dexterity. It collided with the startled man’s temple, and Carlos was rewarded with the sound of crunching bone.

With an agility that would’ve been the envy of many dedicated skirmishers, he darted toward the cell door. The female guard had reacted more quickly than her partner, and she’d already begun to close it. Carlos barreled into it with his shoulder, throwing it open before she had the chance. She went sprawling to the floor, and Carlos leapt in her direction. She wasn’t as incompetent as the other one, though – or perhaps she’d just had time to react. Either way, she managed to conjure a spectral dagger, which she threw in his direction.

Carlos dodged with ease, thanking the forethought that had pushed him into investing so many points into agility and dexterity. He’d never have the endurance or vitality to take hits and survive, but he could avoid them as well as anyone. He crashed into the prone guard, and for a moment, their struggle seemed evenly matched. Even though she was unevolved, she’d obviously invested quite a few points into strength, and she could very nearly match Carlos’s. However, coming close wasn’t quite enough, and after only a few seconds, he began to overpower her. Once he had the upper hand, he wrapped the leftover bit of chain around her neck and cinched it tight.

She struggled against it, clawing at the warm, metal links, but it wouldn’t be enough. She could have probably repeated the feat of strength that had freed him from the wall, but keeping herself from being choked to death was a different story altogether.

And it took forever.

Carlos had killed enough people that he knew that suffocation didn’t come quickly in the new world. Even the lowest level people had invested at least a few points into endurance, if for no other reason than to resist common diseases. It made them more durable as well, and as a side effect, reduced the necessity for oxygen. No one could escape the need altogether – at least as far as Carlos had seen – but a level fifteen warrior who’d focused on physical stats? The woman lasted fifteen minutes before she lost consciousness. It was another fifteen before Carlos was satisfied that she was gone.

It wasn’t the first time he’d killed someone with his bare hands, and he knew it wouldn’t be his last.

After death had overtaken the female guard, Carlos turned his attention to her still-unconscious partner. He hadn’t moved, and his skull had a visible dent in it, but Carlos knew he would recover. And if he did, he could complicate Carlos’s escape. So, he bent down and repeated his actions, choking the life from the man. As he did so, he started planning.

By the time the man died, Carlos had some semblance of a plan. The first order of business was to figure out where he was. Then, as he looked for a way out, he would try to find something to remove the shackles from around his wrists, neck, and ankles – so long as they remained, he would be completely incapable of using his skills. And while he’d trained himself to function without them, he was still handicapped without his full arsenal.

Once he managed his escape, he intended to bring the full measure of his wrath down on Julian Asino and whoever else he’d managed to wrangle into subservience. Carlos wrapped the excess chains around his wrist and ankles before squaring his shoulders and walking down the hall. He was under no impression that he could escape without further killing, but in his current mood, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

In fact, there was a part of him that looked forward to it.