Chapter 81: The Master Tactician Trial (Patreon)

Note: I tried to get this posted yesterday, but it wouldn't end! Once it turned into 4,000 words, I decided to officially make it into two chapters instead. I'll be releasing the next one shortly.

The System had transferred him back to the white room. White ceiling, white walls, white floors. But it wasn’t as if the walls were plaster or the floors were limestone, it was just… white. So bright it should be overwhelming. Like a blur or a trick of the eye.

One after another, the Silverdagger Clan materialized next to him. Asthea had returned with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, but this time, she’d caked either blue chalk or paint onto the strands. She’d etched two blue lines on her cheekbones, and that, together with thick black eyeshadow, made her look like an illustration he’d seen of a Pict warrior from 2,000 years ago. Shivering and her ears drooping, she rubbed her armour-covered arms, her shoulders hunched as she burrowed into a fur-lined cloak that reached her lower thighs. As she shook herself like a dog, droplets of ice crystals hit the floor like shattering glass.

She had to have chosen the frozen lake.

Thorin had returned with a wide grin, the scar on his nose looking especially grotesque, his massive sword in one hand. He wasn’t shivering, and he wasn’t wet, so the chances were high that he’d chosen the same option as Logan. In his hair, he’d fastened black pearls. They dangled down to his lower back and made chiming sounds as he moved. To top it off, he’d separated a strand from his main ponytail and knotted it into a braid, interweaving fine, gold filaments in the strands.

Unlike Thorin, Errol was drenched. His hedgehog hair was dripping, his armour soaked and covered in mud. He had a tired air, dark circles underneath his eyes, fine scratches lining his face. Those hadn’t been there before the trial. It looked like someone had gone at his skin with scissors. Scrunching his nose, Logan tried not to make a face. He reeked with a mixture of wet earth and skunk.

The swamp.

As for Arsen, he was also wet, but better put together and cheerful. He was wearing leather waterproof waders that went up to his waist. Like Asthea, he’d decorated himself with warpaint, his spiky bangs slicked back with that same blue, but also spots of black mud.

Logan raised his eyebrows. Fighting in the swamp seemed like the worst option out of the lot, but Arsen was a smart man. There had to be a tactic that Logan hadn’t considered.

“Well,” said Thorin, clapping his hands. “How did everyone do?”

He didn’t include Logan in his survey. Pointedly ignoring him, purposely snubbing him as he looked at the others and turned his back on Logan.

Fine with him. Thorin wasn’t his favorite person either.

“My trial is going to be tricky,” said Errol with a wince. “Might not have made the best System choices. It gave me… well.”

Arsen pinned him with a steady stare. “Use your training. You’ll come up with a solution. Asthea, how did you do?”

“Mine worked out well! I think I might have a chance at beating mother’s score,” said Asthea with a grin, her eyes alight with excitement.

“Ohoho! Big words, girl!” said Thorin. “But you might do it yet. If anyone can knock Agata out of the leaderboard, it would be you.”

Arsen gave her a soft, proud smile. “All those strategy sessions are paying off now, hmm?” He stretched, the dried mud clinging to the fine white hairs on his face caking to the floor. “Perhaps studying with a stodgy old man wasn’t such a waste of time.”

“Stodgy! The guards you’ve beaten into a pulp would object to that description!”

Arsen’s eyes twinkled.

Thorin clapped his hands again. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a feast and a nap. Asthea, do you have another roast?”

Asthea’s gaze became faraway as she rummaged through her spatial storage. Suddenly, she was holding a massive… thing. It looked like a hog that had mutated into a chicken. It had a snout, floppy ears, wings, and claws. Glistening with a glaze as if she’d just taken it out of the oven, it was so greasy that Logan was surprised it wasn’t slipping out of her hands.

With an excited shout, the guards tore into it, tearing off legs, ears, wings—going to town.

Despite the mutated look of the animal, Logan’s stomach growled. He’d been eating nothing but green beans and tomatoes non-stop for days. He could use a spot of red meat. Maybe a steak or a burger. Even worse, his craving for a cold beer was like nothing else. Logan eyed the animal, hedging back and forth, seriously tempted. The problem was, knowing his luck, it would be toxic to humans.

Talking about luck… just how high did he have to advance that attribute to get a spot of good luck for once?

He cleared his throat. “I thought this was supposed to be a viewing arena. Is there another door?” The white walls looked seamless. For some reason, he’d gone straight to envisioning an old-fashioned theater, complete with black, velvet covered chairs and a red curtain draped in a loop over the top of the screen.

Not a white room.

Asthea licked grease off her palm and then went to throw a chewed-up leg to the side like a piece of discarded garbage before she gave Logan a sheepish look. Instead, she willed it back inside of her spatial storage. “We can be polite, I swear. I know some people aren’t used to our rough manners. As for the viewing arena, you’re in it.”

“…The room?”

Asthea peered at the white wall. “System, show Logan the leaderboard.”

Just like that, text illuminated the wall like a neon billboard in Times Square.

All Time Leaderboard

1.     Agata Silverdagger – 9,812 Points

2.     Aleda Silverdagger – 9,810 Points

3.     Alfifa Silverdagger – 9,798 Points

4.     Arnfasta Silverdagger – 8,981 Points

5.     Erik Silverdagger – 8,972 Points

Trial Leaderboard

1.     …

2.     …

3.     …

4.     …

5.     …

“Amazing technology, no? Just like everything provided by the System. Once the trial starts the whole room turns into a virtual simulation. We can watch each battle from all angles, even underneath our feet. At least that’s what I was told.” Asthea turned to Arsen. “The System will show a simulation underneath our feet?”

“All around us,” Arsen affirmed.

Logan stared at the board. The trial leaderboard was obvious—that was their trial, but the other….

“It ranks everyone that goes through this trial?”

“Since it opened more than ninety years ago.”

“Is that your family in the lead?”

Asthea gazed at the leaderboard with a small smile. “That’s the might of the Silverdagger Clan at work. Those are our former clan leaders. All family. And I’m vying to place in the top five. After what happened in the attribute trials, my mother… Let’s just say she won’t be happy. But if I manage to overtake her score?” Asthea’s gaze was faraway. “It might be enough.”

Arsen’s chest rumbled as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shaking her gently. “You’ll be our clan leader. Never doubt it.”

“I just might,” Asthea said, her voice wistful. “If I make it out on top. I might.”

As one, all three guards looked at Logan and pinned him with their gazes.

“That means no more tricks, little man,” said Arsen, his fingers twitching on Asthea’s shoulder. “You have my thanks for what you did in the dexterity trial, but there’s a limit.”

Oh, come on! They might as well be saying, you better lose. Logan wasn’t made that way. He’d win or lose doing nothing but his best. “It’s a competition. A tactician trial where winning depends upon how well you lead your army. I’m working under the same limitations as you.”

Thorin’s grin was wolfish. “You have it all wrong,” he said. “You just need to go in there and slaughter the enemy! Take no prisoners! What does it matter whether you lead or not? Capturing the egg is what really matters!”

Asthea ducked away from Arsen’s grip and walked behind Thorin. When the big man could no longer see her, she rolled her eyes and shook her head at Logan.

Logan gave her a grin in return and then his smile faded. He wanted nothing better than to trust Asthea, and in turn, trust her guards. Before the System Integration, Logan had been an easy-going guy, ready to believe the best of everyone. He’d believed that fundamentally, everyone wanted to do the right thing if given the chance. He never would have viewed the guards through the same mistrustful lenses.

And yet… he’d also learned lessons throughout this last week. Eleanor. Brad stealing the speedboat. The murderers at the lake. Each instance was etched in his mind, forcing him to adjust his rose-tinted glasses until they’d turned red. He couldn’t judge the group with his pre-System Integration viewpoint. He just couldn’t. Relaxing his guard would get him the same Brad or Eleanor situation all over. There was more than just his life on the line. Lara and the kids depended upon the decisions he made now.

Asthea sidled up to him and nudged him with her elbow. “Are you okay? Your face just turned into a storm cloud.”

Logan would have loved to unload his worries on Asthea, treat her like his sister and gain a sympathetic ear, but she was part of the problem. “Just thinking about my family and about getting back to the real world.”

Asthea made a sympathetic noise. “Anything I can do?”

“It’s not under your control.”

Logan blinked.

“Actually…” He’d assumed he’d have to nudge Thorin into starting the trial by enraging him into a rash decision, but Logan had never been good at manipulation. There might be a solution right in front of him. “You can.”

Asthea paused in picking out a strand of meat from her teeth. “Oh?”

“You know I need to leave, but to do that, we have to get through this trial. I get that you’re going to give it your full attention and you won’t be rushing through it; it means too much. But do we have to lounge around here for days before we start? I can’t afford to be here for a week.”

Asthea’s eyes were ice blue, but kind. “You want me to command Thorin to start the trial?”

“Not command. Gently suggest?”

She snorted. “I don’t ‘gently’ suggest.” Raising her voice, she turned to the others. “Thorin, have you had your fill?” She didn’t wait for his answer. “You’re up. Logan here has somewhere to be, and I owe him a debt. That means no more lazing around. Get to it.”

Logan slumped, a weight like an elephant dissolving from his shoulders. This was a better solution. Just when he’d started to smooth over his relationship with Asthea, he’d hate to get on her bad side. Plus, if he’d annoyed Thorin that much, who’s to say the man would have rushed through the trial? It was just as likely that he’d tried to run Logan through with his sword. This way, he wouldn’t piss off Thorin. Yet still get the same result.

Thorin had frozen with his mouth stuffed full of a chunk of mutated animal. “But—” he protested while chewing, bits of meat falling to the floor.

“No buts. That’s an order.”

Thorin swallowed. Instead of glaring at Asthea, he directed his stare at Logan. “Fine,” he spat.

Logan winced. Well, if he were this pissed off from Asthea commanding him, he hated to imagine what kind of reaction he would have received if he went the other route.

Thorin threw his animal leg against the white wall as if it were offensive. Brushing his hands against his armour, he rubbed off the grease and then straightened his back.

“You’ve got this, Thorin,” said Errol. “Show the trickster how it’s done.”

Thorin grinned toothily, suddenly all smiles. “Oh, he’s going to get it. His score will be so low it won’t even show up on the leaderboard.” Cracking his neck, he jumped on the balls of his feet.

Looking at the ceiling, he said, “System, start my trial.”

Go to chapter 82.