Chapter 346 - Something to Learn (Patreon)

Sasha tried to ignore the powerful currents of mana all around her. She even told herself that it was good practice, meditating in such an environment. However, she was only mildly successful in convincing herself that she really believed it. The fact was that Pudge had guided her into a nest of predators, trusting all the while that his brother would protect them. But given that Ezekiel was even lower-leveled than her own father, who was nowhere near the pinnacle of power necessary to offer true protection, she found herself more than a little on edge. At any moment, she expected that some of the powerful warriors – or the horde of monsters that called the tower home – would realize how poor of a deterrent he really was.

Or how vulnerable Sasha was.

She swallowed hard at the thought, the smell of fear palpable even to her often-underutilized olfactory senses, and her meditative state crumbled before the terror coursing through her veins.

“Relax,” came a soothing rumble of a voice. Then, Sasha felt a massive hand come to rest on her shoulder. “We are safe now.”

Sasha opened her eyes to see Pudge sitting across from her. He barely smelled of anything, let alone fear. In fact, over the course of their journey, his skills in stealth had progressed to the point that he could fade into the background even when standing in full view in the middle of the day. It wasn’t that he disappeared; rather, his presence seemed less important, somehow. As if he was just part of the background.

That was his path at work. Her father had explained it to her – a social faux pas that he’d deemed necessary, given that he knew his impulsive daughter would run off with the bearkin – but even now, she found it difficult to believe a skill wasn’t at work. Her own path, which hadn’t even coalesced into solidity, was barely powerful enough to let her sense the flows of mana all around her. It hadn’t even been codified into her status yet.

But it would. All she needed was to continue with her meditation, and she would be rewarded with a powerful path that would fit perfectly with her class. On the surface, {Thaumaturge} should not have been a very powerful class. It didn’t even offer any combat skills. But it was a rare class that granted her the skill of [Elemental Conversion], which, in conjunction with [Mana Manipulation] and [Spellform], gave her the ability to create a vast array of effects

Given enough time, at least. Or practice. She had a few spells she could form on the fly – one she called Lightning Bolt and another she’d recently perfected called Stormsurge. But both had glaring weaknesses. Lightning Bolt was far from lethal, and it was more useful as a stun than anything else. Stormsurge had the opposite problem in that it created a massive wall of water that could crush her foes. Its effect was widespread and uncontrollable, and it took nearly all of her mana to empower it.

But it was fairly quick to cast – as was Lightning Bolt – so she’d learned to deal with the negative effects. Anything less flawed – like Lightning Storm – took significant time or ingredients to prepare.

One day, though, she’d have an Armory of spells at her beck and call, and she would be ready to combat any situation. For now, though, she was woefully limited in what she could do on short notice. That was why she needed to focus on her path and why she found her current situation so harrowing.

“Are you sure?” she asked. They were sitting outside the grand mansion Ezekiel called home. Plainly, it was a new development of the miraculous tower, because, upon seeing it, Pudge had been just as awestruck as Sasha herself.

Or maybe not, considering he couldn’t feel the flows of mana so keenly.

Nearby, a pair of monsters sat in similar meditation. Both were the lizard-like kobolds, though one was much bigger than the other, more colorfully plumed variant. But they were both monsters; Sasha could feel it in their tightly contained mana. People were different. More varied. But monsters? Each member of a given species was almost identical.

But they were close to breaking free of those bonds. Sasha could feel that, too. Did that mean they were close to achieving sapience? Maybe. She was no expert on monsters. In fact, as a beastkin – and a more evolved being – she’d always looked down on her forebears. Not because she didn’t respect them, but rather, because strangers tended to hold her accountable for her ancestry. To them, she was no different from the massive warboars who terrorized settlements in east.

While Sasha’s mind raced with the implications of a new race of sentient kobolds, Pudge looked thoughtful. He scratched his scruffy chin, then said, “Yes. Zeke would not let anyone hurt you. I will protect you.”

Sasha shook her head. “He’s not really your brother, is he?” she asked.

“He is,” Pudge answered. “It is…complicated. When he found me, I was only a cub. We were both alone, and my mother died. He…rescued me. Saved me. Taught me how to survive.”

“Like a pet.”

“No. Friends.”

“People don’t befriend monsters,” she said. “That’s what you were, Pudge. I’ve seen monster tamers. They come around the territory from time to time, thinking that their skills will work on us. They never do. But…I mean, that’s what happened isn’t it? He bound you to him with a skill.”

“I…I accepted it,” Pudge said. “Embraced it. He could not have done it without my…without my permission.”

“Which you gave him,” Sasha said. The idea of giving up her freedom to be someone’s pet turned her stomach.

“He saved me. He loved me. We fought together for…years,” Pudge said, his speech still halting. He was getting much better, but he still wasn’t a great speaker. Often, he had to pause in order to find the right words. That he didn’t forge ahead without thinking things through was one of the reasons she liked him so much.

So often, her friends had done the opposite. Christopher, the nearly-human apekin who’d been one of her closest companions, had never met a challenge he didn’t want to meet head-on. And for the most part, he’d been equipped to survive it. However, as was inevitable with such a philosophy, he eventually encountered something he couldn’t handle. That basilisk had killed him without a second thought.

Her other companions had dealt with Christopher’s death in their own ways. Tagar had become even more of a coward, while Yoree had sunk deeper into his own fatalistic and cynical philosophy. But Sasha had taken a different lesson from the situation, vowing to never attack a problem without thoroughly thinking it through.  She had found what she thought was a kindred spirit in Pudge, which was why she had followed him for hundreds of miles through hostile territory infested with trolls, bloodthirsty meercats, and stone monkeys.

But trusting a human to protect them was one step too far. Because humans were the most intolerant creatures in the Eternal Realm, and most of them had never met another creature – beastkin or otherwise – they didn’t try to exploit. The only thing that kept them in check was the fact that, compared to most other races, and as a whole, they were relatively weak.

Ezekiel was not.

Even Sasha could see as much, though she was skeptical that he could protect them. And he’d already established a pattern of exploitation with someone she considered a friend. That Pudge couldn’t see it made it even worse. He was blind, mistaking the love one might give a pet for something more familial.

“I can sever the bond,” Pudge said. “Zeke asked me to. He said it wasn’t fair, now that I was my own person.”

“And?”

“I refused,” Pudge stated. That wasn’t surprising. He was so hoodwinked that he would even think Ezekiel’s offer was genuine. “But only for now.”

“Why wait?”

“Power,” Pudge said. “You have seen me heal.”

She nodded. Indeed, Pudge used some earth-flavored skill to heal wounds. It wasn’t terribly powerful, but it wasn’t weak, either – especially considering that it didn’t seem to cost much in the way of mana. It was a potent tool that had helped them both survive their journey across the wilderness.

“Not my skill,” Pudge said. “Borrowed through the bond.”

“How?” asked Sasha, more than a little surprised. The idea of two people sharing a skill was not unheard-of; quite a few classes were built around such abilities. They were especially popular in armies. However, such a thing should not have been possible between a man and a beast, not least because few monsters were capable of understanding how to even use a skill, but mostly due to how differently they processed mana. Most monsters could only manifest a single trademark skill, and anything that veered away from that was completely unreachable.

Or so Sasha had thought.

Pudge shrugged his shoulders, then said, “Zeke is special. Not human, either.”

“What?”

“Special. He is…different. Better. Stronger.”

“No – that’s not…I meant the not-human thing,” she said. She’d already guessed that Ezekiel was much more powerful than his levels might have indicated. All ascenders were. But to her eyes – and her senses – he was completely human, albeit with a definite affinity for earth mana.

“Cambion,” Pudge said. It was a testament to how much they’d grown to trust one another over the course of their journey that he didn’t even try to conceal it. “Half-demon. Half-human.”

“Demonkin…”

“No. Cambion. Different. Better.”

“In what way?” Sasha asked. She only knew what a cambion was because they’d been mentioned in a few of the stories her father liked to tell. In those tales, they were always portrayed as neutral observers who stood between the opposing forces of Heaven and Hell. And until that very moment, she’d considered them figments of her father’s imagination.

“Not born that way. Transformed.”

“I don’t understand,” Sasha said. From her perspective, there’d never seemed to be any difference between demonkin and cambions. Demonkin were the products of a union between demons and other, non-demon creatures, and though they were often powerful, they weren’t that noteworthy other than as an example of how prejudiced people could be based on someone’s heritage.

“Me neither. I just know it is true.”

“How?”

“A god told me so.”

“A god? You met a god?!”

“Two. Three, maybe. Two were trees. One was a…little man,” Pudge said.

“A tree? Do you mean…Aja?” asked Sasha. She’d heard of the tree goddess who was worshipped by elves, dryads, and nymphs. She counted a few followers among other races as well.

“Yes. She was nice. Until she wasn’t,” Pudge answered. “And…Oda. Demon tree. The little man was named Oberon. He was nice, too. Helped me choose my class.”

“A god helped you…chose your class? That’s…I don’t…that’s not…”

“It happened. For Zeke, too. And Talia, I am sure. Tucker, I don’t know. Maybe.”

Sasha’s mind spun. She’d never met anyone who’d actually seen a deity. Certainly, there were plenty of stories about those storied beings taking a hand in the affairs of the Eternal Realm, and most of the legends centered around their chosen champions. However, she’d never really believed any of them, except as parables meant to convey some deeper lesson. But despite her skepticism, Sasha trusted Pudge enough that she believed him.

Which brought with it all sorts of complications. She wasn’t so naïve that she considered the so-called gods actually divine. They were just people – unimaginably powerful and ancient, but people all the same. Still, the fact that so many had taken an interest in Ezekiel – and by proxy, Pudge and his friends – was more than a little troubling. And, she had to admit, a little exciting, too. After all, she had left the Pale Moon Territory in search of adventure, hadn’t she? What better way to find it than at the side of someone who’d drawn the attention of gods?

Of course, it would also be dangerous, too.

Case in point, the pair of kobolds who were suddenly staring right at the two beastkin. Sasha did her best not to cower, but beneath their twin predatory gazes, it was more than a little difficult not to run into the nearby garden and hide within the topiary.

Pudge was afflicted with no such feelings. Or if he was, he didn’t show it. Instead, he waved at the larger of the two monsters. The two reptilian monsters – or were they people? – took that as an invitation to join the pair of beastkin, and before Sasha could object – or escape, perhaps – she found herself sitting next to the slimmer kobold.

The big one spoke, “We overheard your conversation.”

“Not polite to eavesdrop,” Sasha blurted before she thought better of it.

“Indeed,” said the slimmer, its voice carrying with it a note of femininity. “I said much the same, but Silik is shameless when it comes to Ak-ton.”

“Ak-ton?” asked Sasha, her curiosity getting the better of her. With the Framework’s help, she interpreted the word to mean savior, but there was more than the literal meaning to it. To her, it sounded more like a title.

“The savior,” the female kobold stated, her colorful plumes rustling in the slight breeze. “Ezekiel. He is our Mother’s chosen one, and he shall lead us to glory.”

“Survival first, glory second,” said the big one. Sasha recognized him as the one called Silik; she had no idea what is actual position within the kobold horde was, but he acted like a leader. Which made no sense at all, considering that he was far from the highest-leveled monster in the horde. It was yet another curiosity surrounding the entire situation.

“Yes, of course. Survival first.”

“What do you want?” asked Pudge, getting straight to the point.

“We heard you speaking of gods,” Silik said. “Our mother spoke of this. She said to beware the pretenders to the throne of Heaven, for there is only one true god above them all.”

“Oberon said he was no god,” Pudge stated.

“None of them are,” added Sasha.

“Does Ezekiel know this?” asked the slim kobold. “We mustn’t let him follow the wrong path.”

They certainly were articulate for monsters, which made Sasha rethink some of her previous assessment. Perhaps they weren’t simply on the cusp of sapience. Maybe they had already achieved that lofty goal. Whatever the case, they seemed perfectly reasonable. For now. But she knew just how quickly wild monsters could turn.

“He knows,” Pudge stated.

“You feel like him,” said Silik. “Your…mana is…the same.”

“But his path is different,” stated the female.

“Yes,” agreed Silik.

“We are brothers. Not identical.”

“Ah. I see. That makes sense,” Silik stated. The female nodded along, the gesture curiously civilized. “Family. Protect him. He takes too many risks.”

“Always,” Pudge said.

Meanwhile, Sasha’s mind continued to whirl. The kobolds had simply accepted that Pudge was part of Ezekiel’s family. To them, it didn’t matter that the two were plainly different species. And now that she was looking for it, Sasha could see why. Pudge and his brother did feel remarkably similar – so much so that she began to question why she hadn’t noticed it before. Of course, she knew the answer to that question: prejudice. She had preconceived notions of what to expect from humanity, and so, she’d immediately jumped to all the worst conclusions.

That was clearly a mistake.

But the similarity between the two made something painfully obvious. If Ezekiel was a cambion, and Pudge felt almost identical to her ethereal senses, then what did that make the bearkin?