Chapter 279 - Sneaking Out (Patreon)

A couple of weeks later, Zeke was sitting on his cot in the barracks, his back against the wall as he said, “I’m going tonight. I don’t think anybody will even notice I’m gone.”

“Do not be so sure, my friend,” Jasper responded. “People have noticed you, now. They know you are stronger than you look. The incident with the golem told everyone that you have a penchant for survival.”

Zeke shook his head. After word of his escape from the living statue had spread, he’d become something of a minor celebrity. Curiously, the orc who’d abandoned him had turned into his biggest fan, spreading the story at every opportunity. And that story had been augmented by the fact that the hunting party had returned empty-handed, escalating Zeke’s reputation.

As a result, he’d been given progressively more desirable duties; he was still a guard and a slave, but his assignments had seen him protecting the higher-ranked miners who delved into the more dangerous places beneath the mountain. However, as dangerous as those assignments were supposed to be, he’d yet to see any more action, other than fighting off a few kobold swarms, which barely even warranted mentioning.

And Zeke had grown restless.

Certainly, his life in the mines had improved. With his better assignments came increased contribution points; he still hadn’t used many, preferring to save for something big and expensive. But he’d still purchased a few creature comforts that made his life a little more tolerable.

However, he could practically feel his momentum dissipating, degraded by the monotony of the setting. And he knew that if he kept going like he was, he’d end up just like all the others – dead-eyed and apathetic.

So, he’d resolved to sneak out of the mining hub and search out the ruins that were supposed to have been the origin of the bronze golem. Not only did he want to explore, but he also needed to get stronger. To make progress. Save for his time spent recovering from various wounds, Zeke had never really stopped moving forward. Certainly, the process of leveling had, at times, slowed to a crawl. But he’d kept moving forward. And if he allowed himself to stop now, he feared that he would never regain that momentum.

Jasper said, “I wish I could come with you, but if I go missing, the forgemasters will surely take note.”

Zeke gave his friend a grin. “Blame your own competence,” he said.

Jasper shook his head. Just as Zeke had proven himself capable, so had Jasper. He hadn’t been asked to do much more than work the bellows and carry heavy things, but the dwarves had noticed that he knew his way around a forge. As a result, he’d become very popular, and he’d even been tagged for advancement. As a result, he was slated for true apprenticeship – a rarity for slaves.

It was a huge step forward, but advancement came with more responsibilities and far less freedom. Nobody noticed when one of the rank-and-file miners went missing for a few days. Why would the dwarves care about that? If they wanted to eat, they would have to come back and earn contribution points. And if they died? So what? They were completely replaceable.

But someone who’d shown a bit more value? That person, they cared about.

So, Jasper couldn’t just go traipsing off into the uncharted and seldom visited corners of the mine. Zeke wasn’t supposed to either, but his advancement had come with more freedom. He could choose which jobs he wanted to take. And more importantly, he could choose to take a few days of rest, which was what he hoped the dwarves would think about his sudden absence.

If not, Zeke had a plan for an excuse, but hopefully he wouldn’t have to use it.

“Yes – the reward for good work is more work, my friend!” Jasper said, smiling broadly. “In all seriousness, though, I would prefer guard duty over working the forge. Not only does it remind me of a time better left forgotten, but that heat is absolute murder on my complexion.”

Zeke laughed, but he knew that Jasper was only half-joking. His enslavement had covered it up, but the dark elf was more than a little vain. More than once, he’d complained about the hot, dry atmosphere of the forges, and Zeke had often seen him fussing over his mane of white hair. Usually, those instances were accompanied by subdued muttering about the lack of proper haircare products.

He wasn’t certain if Jasper was serious about his complaints, but it definitely served to break the tension. For the next couple of hours, Zeke meditated on the complex runes that made up his skills. He was a long way from understanding even the smallest fraction of them, but he felt that he was making at least some progress. After all, he hadn’t forgotten that one of the things that made his class special – or Aberrant – was that he wasn’t entirely beholden to the Framework for his skills. He would have the opportunity to create his own, and probably sooner rather than later. And given his previous experiences, he knew he needed a lot more knowledge before he made that attempt.

He still remembered how badly he’d screwed [Armor of the Colossus] up, and he didn’t want to repeat his past mistakes.

It was strange. Zeke had spent untold hours studying his skill runes. Since the very beginning, he’d been fascinated by them and that fascination had led to advancement when he’d managed to alter and upgrade his skills. However, his knowledge of mundane enchantments hadn’t kept pace, and even disabling the suppression collars and shackles had stretched his abilities.

And it wasn’t difficult to see why there was a distinction. Skill runes were similar to enchantments, but they were not the same – not by a long shot. In some ways, it felt like the difference between painting and sculpture. Sure, they were both artistic endeavors, but no one would mistake one skill for the other. So it was with skillcrafting and enchanting; the building blocks were similar, but the way everything worked together was so different as to be completely separate disciplines.

Thankfully, there was at least some spillover, but Zeke knew he’d never become even passable as an enchanter. However, he felt confident that one day, he’d be able to build his own skills from scratch. Of course, he could also tear runes down with the best of them. Curses. Runic traps. Enchantments. It didn’t matter – he could rip them apart without much difficulty.

But that wasn’t that surprising. Zeke had always been good at breaking things.

Finally, as all the other miners started to settle down for the night – or what passed for night underground – Zeke slipped out of the barracks and headed toward the exit. No one stopped him – after all, some people chose to work more than others in the hope that they could earn extra contribution points. So, Zeke’s path was uncontested as he traversed the first few tunnels, rode the elevator down to the next level, and found his way to the gate.

As he approached, one of the dwarves on guard asked, “What’s this, then? You goin’ down there alone?”

Zeke nodded. “Just scouting it out,” he lied. “I’m thinking about leading a team down here in a few days, and I want to see if it’s clear.”

The dwarf shook her head, saying, “Your funeral.”

But she still opened the gate and allowed him through. Her response wasn’t unexpected. After the incident, no one but the strike team had gone down that particular tunnel, largely because it had been deemed unstable and too dangerous. Zeke didn’t care about that, though.

The gate clanged shut behind him, and Zeke continued along. Once he was out of sight, he broke the restrictions of his restrictive bindings and summoned his hammer. So armed, he continued along the sloped path for a few miles until he reached a crossroads. There were three paths before him, and there was no evidence to suggest which way the golem had come.

So, Zeke embraced [Metallurgical Repair] and let out a sigh of relief as the earthen energy flowed into him, banishing his fatigue.

But as pleasant as that was, it wasn’t why Zeke had activated the skill. Instead, it was to tap into the skill’s secondary effect, which seemed to give him a vague connection to the earth itself. Or perhaps the earth-flavored mana that ran through it. Zeke wasn’t entirely sure what he felt, but he hoped that it would give him some ideas as to which way he should go.

And it did. It wasn’t a strong impression, but he felt that there were powerful earthen energy fluctuations in the direction of the right-most tunnel. After he released the skill, Zeke set off down that path. During the steady descent, he found himself wondering about the limits of his newest skills. [Metallurgical Repair] had come from [Life Scythe], but it was far more versatile. Not only did it allow him to heal himself without attacking his enemies, but it also gave him a sense of connection with the earth. What would his future skills be able to do?

More than that, what about the skills that had been unchanged by his class? [Weight of Two Worlds] and [Unleash Momentum] were fairly straightforward in the effects, but was that a limitation of the skills? Or a limitation of his mind?

[Unleash Momentum] was difficult to really test because it required him to gather the force of previous swings. By contrast, he could use [Weight of Two Worlds] anytime he wanted to; he just hadn’t had much of a chance since acquiring the skill. Zeke knew he needed to change that because he had a feeling that his usage of the skill was, at best, clumsy. At worst, he was hamstringing himself.

Gradually, he made his way down the tunnel, and before long, hours had passed. For a moment, he considered heading back and trying a different path, but when he again activated [Metallurgical Repair], he felt that the fluctuations were far closer than they had been the first time. So, he was going in the right direction. That was enough to reinvigorate and push him further down the path.

In the beginning, he’d expected to run into a few monsters here and there. Maybe a group of kobolds or something. But nothing barred his way. It was only after another four hours that he figured out the reason.

He’d just reached a cavern which was perhaps forty yards wide and half-again as long. Beside a spring in the center of the cave, a battle raged between three kobold legionnaires and a single bronze golem. Unlike the one Zeke had fought, this one bore the form of a male, but it was otherwise very similar. The legionnaires were different than the kobold he’d fought in the Rainbow Forest, though.

One of the trio wore metallic armor, another was dressed in leathers like the one Zeke had fought, and the third wore purple robes. The armored kobold had clearly gotten the worst of the abuse, and its armor had been destroyed in a number of places. The scaly skin beneath hadn’t fared any better, and the creature looked as if it was barely standing. The other two looked better, though they seemed completely exhausted.

By contrast, the bronze golem was just as implacable as the one Zeke had fought, even if its metal skin had been rent in a few dozen places. The leather-clad legionnaire lowered its spear, and a familiar bar of white light erupted from the end of its weapon. The golem didn’t even try to dodge, taking the attack head-on, and when the light faded, another small wound had appeared on the golem’s bronze body.

The robed legionnaire raised her hands – for some reason, Zeke had categorized the slightly smaller lizard-like creature as female – and a pillar of ice appeared over the golem’s head. It descended with the force of a meteor, crashing into it like a crystalline bomb, driving the golem to its knees.

That’s when the armored legionnaire pounced, swinging a great sword made of bone at the statue. It hit with a loud clang, driving the golem even further into the ground.

And that’s when everything went wrong for the trio of kobolds.

The golem’s fist jabbed out – a simple attack that shouldn’t have been much more than a test – and when it hit, it did so with undeniable force, sending the armored creature flying across the cave and into the wall, where he was carved an enormous divot into the rock before falling on his face. Zeke didn’t need to examine him to know that he was dead.

The robed legionnaire screamed, thrusting out her hands. A pair of ice spears materialized and raced toward the golem. It backhanded the attack, shattering the ice as it rose to its feet. She didn’t give up, though, filling the air with one deadly projectile after another, but even when they made it through, they did little damage to the implacable bronze warrior.

The leather-clad legionnaire had clearly had enough. He reached down and grabbed the robed kobold before throwing her over his shoulder and racing away.

That’s when Zeke chose to act.

He leaped into the air, embraced [Unleash Momentum] and swung his mace.  Even though he’d mostly kept his restrictions active, he’d managed to carve out a little time over the last two weeks to practice with his hammer, partially for exactly the situation in which he’d found himself. He released the gathered momentum, enhancing it with his path, and it raced toward the fleeing kobolds.

Zeke knew it was dishonorable, but the kobolds had proven time and time again that they would attack anyone who wasn’t like them. So, they were enemies, which meant that Zeke felt absolutely no need to follow some arbitrary rules of engagement. Enemies were enemies, and that meant they needed to die. It really was as simple as that.

The wave of momentum hit them a moment later, shattering bones and throwing them against the cave’s walls. The robed kobold died instantly, but the leather-clad legionnaire lived through it. Zeke ended him only a couple seconds later by bashing his head in with his hammer. After the third attack, Zeke was showered with an explosion of blood, bone, and flesh.

Then, he turned back to the approaching golem. It moved with an unhurried but relentless gait, its heavy steps crushing rocks with every footfall. Zeke rolled his shoulders, then ran forward.

He already knew a viable strategy against the golems. But even if it was viable, that didn’t mean it would be pleasant. He darted forward, preemptively embracing [Metallurgical Repair] before he once again leaped, aiming for the largest gash in its metallic skin. The moment his hands found purchase, he latched onto the energy inside the golem and pulled.

It was just in time, too, because only a moment later, its huge fist hammered into him, shattering bones and liquifying organs. But with [Metallurgical Repair] already coursing through his body, the wounds healed almost as soon as they happened.

But that did nothing for the pain. Even with his tolerance, getting repeatedly crushed was not going to be a pleasant experience.