ROTLE- Chapter 30- The Cave II (Patreon)

Aiden remained unsure.

One did not simply walk away from a [Scenario] or a [Unique Quest]. He turned to Elaswit and scratched his head.

“What does your quest say specifically?” he asked.

“I could just show you,” she offered.

Before Aiden could reply, not that he was going to, an interface appeared between the both of them. It displayed the entire quest Elaswit had gotten.

[You have triggered a Unique Quest]

[Unique Quest: World Healing.]

You have found a unique point hidden behind a natural array. Beyond this point lies dangers and perils that continue to wound your world. Exterminate these problems and buy your world the time to heal.

[Quest Objective: Defeat Gargoyle 0/31.]

[Reward: Unique skill.]

[Accept]

[Y/N]

It sounded simple enough as far as it went. There was no mention of Demons or invasions. That was a good thing.

But she was required to kill more gargoyles than Aiden was.

“Aren’t Gargoyles mythical creature?” Elaswit asked. “They went extinct ages ago, before my great grandfather.”

“Yes,” Aiden agreed, still thinking. “And they are mentioned quite often in your holy books. Nasty things they are. Skin capable of turning stone-like. Noses that can smell blood from a mile away. Claws that can cut through stone.”

He frowned as he listed some of their characteristics. Still, Gargoyles were only troublesome to people who didn’t know how to fight them.

“But don’t you think thirty-one’s much?” Elaswit asked.

“Maybe.”

Aiden remained standing in front of the entrance while Elaswit remained beside him as her interface faded from between them.

They were going to have to tackle this very problem. Together, preferably. Again, unique quests and scenarios were not things you simply walked away from.

No, Aiden thought, remembering the rules of quests and scenarios. Scenarios were what you couldn’t turn away from. They remained active no matter what happened, and you didn’t get a choice on whether you wanted to do them or not. They happened and that was it.

A notification of a scenario wasn’t an offer, it was simply a notification. Your interface telling you that something was happening, that you had stumbled upon something.

Quests were different. They were not evolving. You could leave them how you found them and come back whenever you liked to find them the same way you left them, waiting for you. The only time they changed was if some scenario or some other quest somehow affected them.

Or if someone started them and failed to finish them properly.

As long as Elaswit left the unique quest alone and didn’t accept it, she would be fine.

Aiden turned to tell her to let it lie only to find a sheepish smile on her face.

“Tell me you didn’t do what I think you just did,” he said with a groan, not hopeful of a positive response.

“First, I would like to apologize,” she began, not looking apologetic at all. “Unique skills are a rare thing. You only get one every ten levels and I already have mine for the next few levels. It’s kind of a rare chance to get two within ten levels. I couldn’t help myself.”

Aiden grunted, his brain already re-strategizing.

“Besides,” she went on. “You got a scenario. There’s quite literally no turning back.”

“There was turning back for you, Princess.”

“And you genuinely believe I would’ve left you to go on your own?” she asked, arms folded in petulance. “Do you think that little of me?”

Aiden shook his head. “No, Princess. It would’ve been easier to convince you to go back and get reinforcements while I do my best to handle the scenario and stall for time, whatever that might entail.”

Elaswit squinted at him in suspicion.

“Why do I feel like that would’ve just been a lie to get me out of here while you try and handle things yourself?”

Because it would’ve been.

“Does it really matter?” Aiden asked, instead.

“It does.” Elaswit pointed a finger inside the opening, towards the new path ahead of them. “My mana keeps fluctuating, so I can arguably say I only have seventy percent mana at this point. You may not know this, but there’s a specific type of mana that every one knows to stay away from and it causes this very effect on the mana pool of people with less than fifty levels.”

Aiden knew but wasn’t going to tell her that.

“So you could be down to twelve percent mana,” Elaswit continued, “and attempt to activate a skill that uses ten percent mana only to find yourself with one percent before the conclusion of the skill. I can’t have you making such an error. It could cost you your life.”

Aiden couldn’t believe he was having this conversation.

He was more than happy to have someone play devil’s advocate to all his ideas but not this adamantly, and not when he knew exactly what he was doing. He’d fought enough Gargoyles in his life time to know that the only one that would pose a threat to him in this scenario would be the named Gargoyle.

But despite how he felt about this argument, he knew that Elaswit was having it from a place of kindness and logic. Personally, Aiden would not let anyone do this scenario on their own.

“I’m just one savior, Princess,” he told her. “Your kingdom has fourteen more back at the palace.”

“By that logic is it okay to sacrifice a subject of the crown when we don’t have to simply because the crown has countless more?”

“No.”

“Exactly.”

“Still,” Aiden said. “You shouldn’t have accepted the quest. A unique skill is not that important.”

Elaswit snorted. “The whole unique skill thing was just a well placed lie. I was coming with you, regardless.”

Aiden cocked a brow, unsure of what to say to that. In the end, he settled for something less dramatic.

“Then why did you accept it?”

“Because it is a unique quest happening in the same place as a unique scenario,” she said. “Accepting the both of them and doing the both of them requires the same effort as accepting one of them and doing one of them, but only one of those options guarantees more rewards.”

“That’s debatable.” Aiden looked at his mana notification and the fluctuations were slowing down. “Your quest needs you to kill thirty-one Gargoyles while my scenario needs me to kill far less.”

Elaswit paused. “How less?”

“Eighteen Gargoyles and one named Gargoyle.”

Elaswit turned thoughtful and silent.

“Which means the quest and the scenario don’t have the same outcome,” she said finally. “Then why did you get the scenario and I the quest? Shouldn’t I get the scenario as well?”

That question had an answer Aiden didn’t know, so he simply shrugged.

“No idea.”

Elaswit paused. “Oh.”

Aiden peered into the new area revealed to them behind the natural enchantment. It was a cavernous as the cave but had bioluminescent moss scattered along the walls for lamination.

“What do you mean by ‘oh’?” He reached a hand out, crossed the boundary that separated the both sides of the cave.

“I just realized I had asked a stupid question,” Elaswit answered. “This is my world, not yours. It was unreasonable of me to be asking you questions about it.”

Aiden almost chuckled. Nastild was kind of his world also. It pained him to admit it but there were things about earth, miniscule pieces of information he already couldn’t remember. To him they were like the things you learned in school and remembered for the sole purpose of passing your exams.

The knowledge quite literally went with the submission of the paper.

“It’s just that you always seem like you know a lot,” Elaswit continued. “And you do spend a lot in the library so I guess my mind just assumed that you would know the answer.”

“It’s fine, Princess,” Aiden answered, then took a step across the boundary. “It’s not unreasonable. Would you like to know a secret about the whole library thing and knowing too much?”

“Yes?” she answered, her tone puzzled as she followed him across the boundary.

“It’s not that I know it all. It’s that when I say the things I know, I imbue it with enough confidence. Trust me, it doesn’t matter how unreasonably wrong you might be, if you say it or do it with enough confidence, everyone will accept it as long as no one knows better.”

Elaswit shivered but not from any cold. “That’s creepy.”

“Yes, Princess,” Aiden agreed with a smile. “Yes, it is.”

“Just out of curiosity, will I ever get you to call me Elaswit again?”

“Probably not.”

…

Aiden had been right. There was no difference between this part of the cave and the part they’d come in through.

As far as he knew the walls were the same by texture and, from what the small illumination he’d gotten from the small oasis had shown him, looks. Navigating it felt no different from when they’d entered except for the fact that he could see far better here.

Elaswit followed quietly behind him as they walked and he paid her the occasional attention, making sure she was fine.

As they walked, traversing the labyrinth of a cave in silence, Aiden picked his brain, remembering what he knew about Gargoyles.

The first and most common thing everyone had known about them was that they were part of the Demon armies cannon fodder. They made up one of three creatures that graced the frontlines in the war. Countless but ultimately middling.

But they had a weakness. If you couldn’t overpower one with raw strength or level, then skill was the only way.

“How much do you know about Gargoyles?” Aiden asked as they walked, taking a turn to the right where the road forked.

“Old, mythical, extinct.” Elaswit’s words were simple, though she sounded a little annoyed about not knowing anything about them. “My father needs to know about this.”

“And he will,” Aiden said. “But only once we are done with this dilemma we find ourselves in.”

Elaswit made a sound somewhere between annoyed and thoughtful, then she scratched her braided hair in frustration.

“I remember a part of the scripture saying something about how they are weak to fire based spells,” she said after a while. “Maybe it was light.”

“Heat based,” Aiden corrected.

Fire spells worked well enough, but for a light spell to work it needed to be a spell that left high concentrations of light. Enough light that you could feel the heat coming from it.

It didn’t matter how the light presented itself.

“Unfortunately,” Aiden continued, leading them and making sure he didn’t touch the moss and algae that illuminated their path, “none of us have a fire or light based skill. Unless you secretly do.”

He paused to give her a patient look and she shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said simply. “My class doesn’t have any business with spells. [Butcher] is more brute force and violence than anything else. I do have some enchanted items and one artifact, though.”

“Does any of the enchanted item have heat based effects?”

Elaswit shook her head.

Aiden wasn’t surprised. “What of the artifact?”

“Doesn’t have one either,” she said.

That wasn’t exactly what Aiden was asking. Artifacts by themselves were powerful items from a forgotten time. Each one varied in what they could do but it was accepted that they were all powerful in their own way, carrying various effects.

There were limited artifacts that probably had only twelve of them in the world or something like that. Then there were simple artifacts that were countless. They weren’t infinite, per say, but they were a lot. Enough that you could find a couple of people who carried different variations of them.

As one of royal blood, Aiden had no doubt that Elaswit’s artifact was going to be powerful. What he was asking was what artifact she had.

However, such a question was something to be approached cautiously.

“I was asking about what an artifact is,” he explained. “How it works, what it does.”

“They are old magical items,” she said, happy to explain. “From what we know on Nastild, they are from a forgotten time. Civilizations far more powerful than ours. And they are very powerful.”

“Okay…” Aiden said, allowing the word trail off as a request for her to continue.

“There aren’t countless but there are enough,” Elaswit obliged. “From what we know, there are two types. The spell-blessed and the aura-blessed.”

“What’s the difference? One is magic based and one is not?”

Elaswit paused, thoughtful. “Not really. Spell-blessed are more of artifacts that were specifically created through spell bindings. They were created by binding powerful spells to powerful objects, I guess.”

“And aura-blessed?”

“Those are sometimes simple items made powerful by association. Let’s say, if a level 500 uses a spoon and develops an attachment for that spoon for long enough, it could become an aura-blessed artifact from their constant interaction with the item, I guess.”

“That sounds powerful.” Aiden took a turn the path led them down. It was the third one so far. “Imagine facing someone with a spoon for an artifact.”

“Haven’t seen a spoon before,” Elaswit said with a chuckle. “But I have seen a rubber duck artifact.”

Aiden paused. That was something he didn’t know about. He could only imagine what it did.

“He was a prince from a visiting country,” Elaswit explained as they paused at another fork only to take a left. “I didn’t get to see what it did but he said it was an escape artifact to help me get away from dangerous situations.”

Aiden made a thoughtful sound, his mind going through the possibilities of how a rubber duck could help someone escape.

He couldn’t come up with something that would not leave the pursuer embarrassed.

How do you explain to someone that you lost your target because of a rubber duck?

“What of yours?” he asked, then hurried to add: “If you don’t mind my asking.”

Elaswit waved the second statement aside. “I don’t, really. Mine’s a fragment of the Mad king’s Bar.”

That stopped Aiden in his tracks. Lesser men would’ve stumbled from that piece of information.

He collected himself quickly, pretended like he was caught in a sudden thought. He turned around, frowned, pointed one way, then the other.

“Did you feel that?” he asked.

Elaswit stood, quiet. She looked around. “Feel what?”

Aiden let his brows furrow in thought. He licked his finger and held it up. His frown deepened.

After a moment, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I thought I felt a draft.”

That said, he continued moving and Elaswit followed.

“What does yours do?” he asked after a few steps, not that he didn’t know.

There was no one who knew about artifacts that didn’t know what the Mad king’s Bar did.

“Nothing much.” Elaswit shrugged. “My dad got one for all of us. It basically grants additional points to our stats and when it’s activated it grants immunity to any physical skill attack for five seconds.”

Aiden nodded as she spoke.

I guess she doesn’t trust me very much.

In his book it was a good thing. Even a child shouldn’t know the extents of what a person could do.

It was either that or she did trust him but simply didn’t know the full extent of the Mad king’s Bar.

The artifact was—according to myth—created by the human king of a kingdom with a forgotten name during the wars of the second Demon King. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had it crafted for the sake of the battle but to keep him safe against members of his court.

In his late years, he had grown delusional and paranoid, believing his nobles were out to kill him and replace him with the Demon King they fought against.

It was indeed madness.

But his madness had led him to have the most powerful mages craft a black staff for him. What it had been capable of when it had been whole remained lost in history, but Aiden knew what its fragments were capable of.

When activated, they granted immunity to the physical effects of skills for the duration of ten seconds, though normal attacks still had an effect on the user. Passively, when equipped, the fragments granted the user fifteen points to be distributed amongst their stats for as long as it was equipped. When cast on an enemy, it rendered them unable to use skills with physical effects for ten seconds.

Defensively, it activated automatically once the user is caught in a surprise skill attack and stayed active for ten seconds. It also grants its wielder a thirty percent resistance to magical attacks for as long as it was equipped.

In summary, it was a powerful artifact, but not even one of the most powerful.

Then how had the Mad king died?

At the hands of a Gargoyle, which made their current situation ironic. Of all the things the Mad king’s Bar could do. It had no defense against mind magic, and named Gargoyles had mind magic. It was nothing powerful, but if a level 40 Gargoyle used mind magic on a level 14 [Weaver], the outcome was definitely obvious.

Aiden wasn’t too worried, though. Unless he did something stupid, they wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

At least he knew he wouldn’t have to worry about Elaswit too much.

…

They met the first distraction of their trip almost half an hour into their journey. The maze had turned them around at least twice and Aiden had cursed himself at least once for not having something as simple as a chalk in his soldier belts.

Valdan had once joked about them being one too many utility belts but if Aiden was being honest, they were not. They didn’t have the pockets or space required to hold all the things he needed that would qualify them as utility belts.

But a chalk is a damn small thing, and you were coming to a maze of a cave.

Aiden was the first to spot the outlier and he slowed their pace as he drew closer to it. Elaswit followed him, her stroll coming to the speed of a crawl as Aiden knelt down beside it.

The smell attacked his nose but he gave no reaction. Behind him, Elaswit covered her nose with a hand and looked away.

There was a dead body there, resting against one of the walls. It wasn’t old enough to be completely decayed, but the decaying process had already started.

The body was still identifiable as a male. Whoever the person had been, they’d had some funds, enough to afford a nice robe for adventuring.

Aiden rubbed the hem of the robe between thumb and forefinger.

Harsh.

The more expensive magical robes were smoother, made of silk, most preferably silk from certain monsters that produced them.

Aiden let the hem of the robe fall back down as Elaswit leaned in to look at the corpse from over his shoulder.

He felt her frown, saw it from his periphery.

She reached forward with her two fingers and pressed the corpse’s neck, applied pressure. After a few seconds, she removed her hand.

“Three days give or take,” she concluded. “Not too long ago.”

Aiden agreed. He wasn’t surprised to know that a member of the royal family had some medical training, enough to tell how long a body had been dead.

“Magic class,” Aiden offered. “Judging by the magic robe. Cheap, so he mustn’t have been very high in level or he was perpetually broke.”

“I take it you got that from his robe,” Elaswit said.

Aiden nodded. “The material is too coarse. At best it would allow him a ten percent increase in most magical skills or spells.”

He touched another side of the robe and turned it to reveal extra seams that seemed unnecessary.

“Enchantments,” Elaswit said when she saw them. “My mom has a lot of enchanted clothes in her wardrobe. The expensive kind, though.”

Aiden nodded once more.

“He was probably an enchanter,” he muttered to himself.

“You sound certain.”

“Not completely,” Aiden said. “It’s just guesswork. A deduction, but guesswork ultimately. Only those with at least the basic enchant skill would be able to activate the natural enchantment, and since my class has a distant relationship to enchantments and I have the skill, I did a little research on enchanters and learned that they like their enchanted clothes a lot.”

“That’s… intentional learning, right there.”

“Well, I’m in a world with monsters and an old man that considers being attacked by a sword to be a simple dance. I’d be stupid not to know everything I need to.”

“Alright, nerd,” Elaswit teased. “How do you know he’s not high level or rich?”

She’s testing me, Aiden thought and almost laughed.

“For starters,” he said, humoring her. “The material for the robe is of poor quality.” He rubbed it between his fingers once more. “It’s too dry, almost feels like I’m touching paper.”

“He’s been out here in this atmosphere for who knows how long.” Elaswit shrugged. “We could attribute that to poor maintenance.”

She still had a hand over her nose so her voice was slightly muffled.

Aiden shook his head in disagreement.

“If I’m right and he’s an enchanter, then he would know not to settle for poor material when he can afford the good stuff. But he got poor materials. The good stuff would need far longer to degrade to this state. Ergo, not a lot of money.”

“Okay,” Elaswit conceded. “What else?”

“He was an adventurer, not a mercenary?”

“How do you know that?”

Aiden reached for the man’s neck and pulled something out from under his robe. It was a small plaque, wooden brown. It had words scribbled in the common tongue on it.

“He has an adventurer’s tag,” he said, then reached inside his shirt to pull his out. “Every registered adventurer has one.”

He read the name on the tag. “Lucky. One name, not of noble blood. Town, Netted. Level 38. I guess this is why they make the tags carriable.”

He tugged on it but the tag didn’t snap free from the body’s neck. Instead, the body jerked forward before falling back down.

Aiden drew his dagger and severed the rope that kept the tag around the corpse’s neck.

The moment he had the tag free and in his hand, his interface came alive in front of him.

[Optional Quest: Kind Adventurer.]

You have found an unfortunate adventurer, dead in his quest for greater heights. Identify dead adventurer’s and inform the adventure society of their passing so that their families may have closure.

[Quest Objective: Collect adventure tags 1/???]

[Reward: Adventure society designated.]

[Accept]

[Y/N]

Aiden didn’t need to give it much thought before accepting. The quest merely made the task system sanctioned. If he gathered the tags and presented them at any society hall, he was likely to get a reward for it. Accepting the quest only ensured that he got the reward.

The unique scenario hadn’t given them a countdown so he was more than sure it wasn’t time sensitive.

“If you stumble across any corpse I miss, let me know,” he told Elaswit as he pathed the robe in search of what had killed the man. “I just got an optional quest that requires me to get the tags.”

Elaswit nodded.

“Poor guy,” she muttered. “To lose your life in a quest for a unique skill is not the way any one should go.”

Aiden agreed.

“What was his name, again?” Elaswit asked suddenly.

Aiden didn’t need to look at the tag. “Lucky of Netted.”

“Rest well, Lucky of Netted,” she said solemnly.

Aiden ignored the irony of the man’s name against his situation as he revealed the cause of the man’s death.

He had countless claw marks riddling his chest and abdomen. They’d torn into his shirt and rendered it next to useless. Then done a complete mess of his body. The marks were so much that Aiden couldn’t single out each one individually.

“This is going to be a problem,” he muttered.

Elaswit stared at the carnage with a pained expression. “It’s like a frenzy.”

“And that’s the problem.” Aiden rose to his feet. “Either the monster was in a frenzied state or there were multiple monsters, and I don’t know which is worse.”

“I’d say the possibility of around thirty monsters in a frenzied state is worse,” Elaswit said.

“Maybe. But we also have to consider the fact that the injuries are localized to one area, the torso.” Aiden slipped the tag into his pocket. “Which means that if there were more than one, they likely attacked him as one, ambushed him, and were very specific and decisive about where they were attacking. I can’t say what that means yet but I can say that’s also not a problem we want to find ourselves dealing with.”

Elaswit took a moment before she said anything.

“Either we’re dealing with thirty angry Gargoyles,” she said. “Or we’re dealing with thirty Gargoyles capable of working as a team with a calculated form of attack.”

Aiden wasn’t sure if it was anticipation he heard in her voice or trepidation.

…

As they continued down the path, meandering through the labyrinth, Aiden knew which of the two possible types of creatures they were dealing with. For one thing, Gargoyles did not go into a frenzy unless said frenzy was ignited by a skill used by a superior monster.

Gargoyles were simple creatures that killed because it was in their nature to kill.

But they were also never calculated.

Which means the named Gargoyle is using a hands on approach.

Aiden wondered what it meant for the future that he’d discovered the Gargoyle’s nesting place so soon. If he was not mistaken, he’d found them two years too soon.

From what he knew about gargoyles, they were no less than level forty-two. But what if that was a conditional piece of information?

If the gargoyle armies that had taken part in the Demon wars had actually somehow come from this cave as their nesting grounds, then it was arguable that they’d stayed here, growing their levels for at leas two years with every adventurer, mercenary or unfortunate third party that had gotten the displeasure of coming here and losing their lives.

If that was the case, then all of them could be of lower levels right now. Aiden didn’t know if to be pleased by the possibility or not. On one hand, he did not have the unique quest so he’d been happy to settle for a good level increase fighting stronger enemies which would no longer be an option.

On the other hand, it guaranteed a higher chance of this task being easy, which meant he would not have to explain anything to anybody in the event of Elaswit returning with terrible injuries.

“Do you have potions?” Aiden found himself asking at the thought of injuries.

“I have enough survival tools to last a month,” Elaswit answered. There was a moment of silence where she studied him before adding: “I’m guessing you don’t have any, so I’d say it would last us three weeks.”

Auden fought the urge to smack his own face. Not having any potions or nutrition on him was a significant rookie mistake.

He could argue that it was not his fault. Tonight had been nothing but an investigative situation. The intention had been to see what the cave was like, map it, get the unique quest notification, then return.

So he’d outfitted himself for a short investigative expedition.

How was I supposed to know that there was a unique scenario involved?

Despite it all, he still held himself to greater standards. If he was still in the Order and had failed a mission simply because he was under-prepared for sudden variables and changes to his position, it would have been an excuse incapable of sufficing.

In simpler words, he would’ve been punished, regardless.

“I’m still surprised you use a soldier’s belt, though,” Elaswit said as they took a turn and ran straight into another corpse.

“It’s the easiest way to handle my tools,” Aiden explained, squatting at the corpse.

This one was also an adventurer. Judging by his gear, however, he was no enchanter. He had the same cause of death, ripped to shreds at the back instead of the front. Further investigations revealed a few more pieces of information.

While he wasn’t an enchanter, he was very likely a [Thief]. He was also level twenty, which Aiden found quite sad. He’d barely truly started on the path of this life before it was snuffed out.

He was probably too ambitious, Aiden thought. Like Zen.

“There are other ways to carry your items, besides a soldier’s belt,” Elaswit said, continuing their conversation.

Aiden agreed. “Most of them are expensive, though.”

“And you are the favored guest of a king.”

Aiden cut the adventure tag loose from the corpse and slipped it in his pocket.

[Quest Objective: Collect adventure tags 2/???]

“I was under the impression that my father would’ve at least given you something to help with the whole carrying thing,” Elaswit continued. “It would definitely not prove so costly. If I’m not mistaken, your daily stipend should suffice for what a level 30 adventurer should make for each contract befitting their level.”

That much was true from what Aiden knew.

“Which means,” Elaswit went on, “that he wouldn’t even need to be the one to purchase the best alternative for you. If you saved up for a few weeks you would be able to buy it. With all the reading you’ve been doing and all the things you know, it’s difficult to believe that you don’t know of it.”

Aiden knew of it. It was most likely what Elaswit had that helped her possess a provision store worth a single month.

A spatial orb was Nastild’s acme of spatial and time magic put together in a mix of spells and enchantments. It stored a large enough amount of items and was bound to its user so that only them and a designated number of other users could access its contents. It was like an inventory, if an inventory was a small jewelry and didn’t have a picture of the items you owned displayed in front of you in small squares.

It was designed to keep any non-living item inside while preserving it for I time theorized to be infinite.

What most people didn’t know was that it actually wasn’t the acme of spatial and time magic on Nastild. It was merely the acme on the human side of Nastild.

“Come to think of it,” Elaswit said, as if suddenly realizing something. “What do you people spend your stipend on?”

Aiden got up from the corpse. “What?”

“Sorry,” Elaswit said, derailing the topic for a little bit. “May I know his name?”

Aiden nodded. “Quint of Salatar.”

“Rest well, Quint of Salatar,” Elaswit said with a bow of her head. “As I was saying, what do you people spend your stipends on?”

“Different things, I’d guess,” Aiden answered.

The truth was that he didn’t know. All he knew was that everyone had what they spent theirs on. It had only been later on in his life that he’d learnt that Sam had been funding the experiments he’d been working with up until they became experiments with results that could not justify the means.

If he was being honest, Sam had developed a slow growth from questionable to bad to evil to unforgivable.

You’ve really got to forget about this Sam thing.

But as much as he told himself this, it was difficult to. You couldn’t just ignore someone you’d killed once upon a time with good reason when you knew there was a very high chance that they would follow the same path that led to your decision.

If Aiden dealt with Sam sooner in this life time, he could save a lot of lives, and he meant a lot. Sam’s victims had numbered north of five hundred.

And the bastard had taken his time with them.

It was difficult to tell yourself to ignore something and simply obey.

“Alright, what do you use yours for?” Elaswit asked.

They’d left the corpse behind and were back on their navigation of the cave. The world was still illuminated but now the air was humid. Moist.

It was a good sign. Either they were encroaching on new parts of the cave or something was happening.

“Still haven’t answered me, Aiden,” Elaswit pointed out.

Aiden didn’t take his eyes of their surrounding or his nose off the fact that the air was more humid.

“I spend most of mine on Ded,” he answered.

“The soldier?” Elaswit asked, confused. “He already has his wages as a soldier and an extra allowance for the task of being stationed at the palace.”

“True enough.” Aiden led them around a corner. “But now he has his wages for running errands for me, amongst other things.”

“Errands like?”

“I’m very certain your father isn’t the only one who wonders how I know the things I know. And while the library can explain most of them, it does not explain all of them. Ded is simply another one of many explanations.”

Elaswit chuckled. “I like that you do not lie, or at least you lie believable lies.”

“How so?” Aiden placed his palm flat on a surface of the cave wall not covered by anything to see if the humidity in the air was enough to leave any form of moisture on the walls.

It was.

“I mean,” Elaswit said, “it would’ve been very disrespectful of you if you had told me that Ded is your other explanation of all the things you knew. I consider it either a show of respect for my intelligence or a show of intelligence on your part that you did not. After all, there’s no way Ded would’ve known the classes and levels of the envoys from Nel Quan.”

“I have a few information brokers Ded helps me keep in touch with for those kinds of information.”

Elaswit paused. “How did you learn of information brokers?”

Aiden didn’t think the knowledge was supposed to surprise her.

“I assumed your world would have one since mine does,” Aiden said. “One universal culture amongst humans is their need to know what they are not supposed to know.”

“And you expect me to believe that you somehow managed to gain access to information brokers outside the kingdom as well? All the way to Nel Quan?”

This time, Aiden chuckled. It was genuine and amused.

He was really hoping that Elaswit did not expect him to believe that she was just making conversation or that she was simply a curious girl satisfying her curiosity.

This was a casually placed interrogation. Fortunately, it was one he was more than happy to go with. If he could get her to believe his words here, then she would help convince her mother of their truths when he got back.

“What’s funny?” Elaswit asked.

“You are,” he answered. “I’ve only been here for a month. I assure you that I have no information broker outside the kingdom. The Nel Quan thing was just a stroke of luck, and I used it to rattle my first opponent. If he was stuck with a smidge of confusion about what I really was, then he wouldn’t have his complete attention on the fight.”

“Then how did you know?”

Aiden stopped what he was doing to look at her. “Luck.”

Her brows furrowed. “Luck?”

Aiden nodded. “Luck. During the ball, they had conversations, one of which had something to do with their classes and levels. That was how I knew the class and level of the first one to face me.”

Elaswit shook her head. “You lie. I was aware of you during the entire ball and you did not come close enough to the envoy to defend this point.”

Aiden fought the urge to cock a questioning brow.

She was aware of me enough to stand by it?

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Just how long had the princess been paying attention to him? And how much attention, exactly?

“I never said I heard it, Princess,” he corrected her. “Among my many human skills, I’m quite good at reading lips. It’s not an all know be all talent, but it does come in handy.”

Elaswit’s expression turned thoughtful, and Aiden realized that that was a piece of information that would take her a while to believe.

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. In fact, he was very good at lip reading. He could lip read at least ten different Nastild human languages correctly. As for the non-human languages, that had not been his specialty.

Elaswit’s disbelief was most likely in the possibility that the Nel Quan envoy would have spoken on the subject of such delicate matters in their language and not the common tongue.

Aiden could buttress his lie by explaining that they would not have considered the possibility just the way the princess hadn’t considered the possibility, but he had enough experience to know that some lies were designed to be doubtful and not defended.

You allowed the receiver doubt it themselves and reach a conclusion themselves. It was a risky strategy, but defending them would only force the receiver's mind to doubt it more simply because of simple stubbornness.

In a heartbeat his lie no longer mattered.

Elaswit’s entire attention and demeanor shifted at the sound of a rolling pebble and her hand reached over her shoulder for the hilt of her cleaver.

Aiden’s sword was already free of its sheath. He was a level 14 about in a place where the weakest enemy was at least possibly twenty levels ahead of him. Experience would not be enough to keep him alive.

“Alright, then,” he muttered, as a single gargoyle stepped out from a corner, its expression mildly surprised to see them.

It crawled on all fours, its feet armed with sharp claws. It had short wings on its back that didn’t look capable of lifting its body, and came up to their waists from feet to shoulders.

It had grey skin and yellow eyes that watched them suspiciously.

To Elaswit, Aiden asked, “Would you like first strike?”

“Definitely,” she answered. “I take it Sir Valdan taught you the strategies of fighting with a partner?”

Valdan had definitely not taught him.

But someone had in an old life.

“I’ll manage, princess.”

The gargoyle leapt at them and Elaswit swung her cleaver.

It was time to draw first blood.