(TPOR) Chapter 92: Like Chess (Patreon)

He’d been in the mana surge for five years. Zed wasn’t certain how he felt about it. He still remembered the notifications he’d woken up to in the forest. They had been detailed but not much. Five years was a long time to have so little notifications. Then again, it seemed fair. It had been five years of him doing nothing, after all.

And he doubted the mana surge had grafted him a new body in the blink of an eye. Creating a new human body had to have taken time. To graft him from nothing but mana must’ve taken far longer than he could imagine.

Mana could create life.

No, he corrected. It created a husk, empty but almost perfect. All I’m doing is filling it. Mana cannot create life.

If the VHF had come this far out in search of the mana surge, then it was likely worth far more than the others had made it seem. But Zed knew the state of the mana surge. He remembered the massive tree with the tiny spark hidden within it. The blue spiel he’d vomited that had killed the grass, turned it dry and lifeless. Whatever the mana surge he had been encased within was, it was gone. There was supposed to be nothing left of it.

The VHF would not be finding what they hoped to see.

“Just out of curiosity,” Zed said to no one in particular. “Is there such a thing as creation magic?”

“Everything is creation magic,” Oliver answered. “Fire, water, force, light. Everything. Magic is the ability to create.”

“What of life? Is there a mage capable of creating life?”

That gave everyone a momentary pause.

Something fell from the sky then, interrupting their silence with the loud boom of a heavy thing hitting the ground. It bore enough force to raise dust, but with all the grass in the forest, it raised nothing. All it did was create a small crater.

At the heart of the crater, Big Man Desolate stood.

“Now that!” he said theatrically. “Is an amazing question. And if you don’t mind my asking, why?”

“Why what?” Zed asked.

The entire party had gathered again, at least those who hadn’t succumbed to death. It was glaring to note that Jim hadn’t made it, too.

“Why would you ask if mana can create life?” Big Man Desolate clarified, walking up to Zed. “That’s not a popular question. In fact, I’d argue it’s a question only life mages ask.” He stopped in front of Zed and sniffed the air. “You don’t smell like a life mage to me, though, man of culture. Is there something you saw perhaps, that’s making you ask?”

Zed was happy to find that the man’s presence being reminiscent of Freddy Krueger from that one old movie he now remembered watching still left him impressed.

Good to know everything about me isn’t a lie.

“What’s going on?” Abed asked, stepping forward so that he would’ve stood beside Shanine if she hadn’t mirrored him by moving to stand beside Zed.

Abed’s face frowned but he said nothing on it.

“What’s going on is that man of culture over hear is asking questions,” Big Man Desolate said, then added: “Oh, before I forget, Abed. He doesn’t want you to have the girl and I’m on his side.”

Abed’s frown deepened into a scowl so that he did it with his entire face. It reminded Zed of a character from another movie he’d watched as a child.

Kinda looks like Jabba the Hutt, he noted, finding a slight humor in it. Definitely not going to laugh at a Rukh mage right now, though.

“And why will you support that?” Abed asked Big Man Desolate, angry.

“Because he’s a man of culture that understands the whole point of respect,” Big Man Desolate said.

“Man of culture, eh?” Madam Shaggy interrupted. “Let me guess, the kid appreciated your costume. Pathetic.”

“Hey!” Big Man Desolate whined. “You wear a costume every day and people who don’t even know you, acknowledge it. What’s so wrong with me getting some credit I deserve?”

“A costume?” Kid asked, confused.

“Yup,” Big Man Desolate answered.

“No,” Abed said almost immediately.

“Not to step on any toes,” Big Man Desolate said in a singsong voice designed to give offense. “But Madam Shaggy over here doesn’t dress like this normally. Come on, who wears a trench coat all the time.”

“You have no idea how much sense that doesn’t make,” Ronda muttered.

The conversation was already moving away from Zed’s question, and considering the attention Big Man Desolate had been more than keen to place on him, Zed was more than inclined to let it happen. As for his question, he’d ask it when there was more privacy for it.

Apparently tired of their bickering, Ven stepped up beside a quiet Festus who continued to watch Zed with a fixed stare, studying him as one would a car they wished to buy, or a dog they wished to raise.

“I believe that’s enough of that,” Ven said, terminating whatever response Madam Shaggy intended on making.

When silence reigned and everyone turned to Ven, Big Man Desolate making faces at Madam Shaggy who scowled in return, Ven slipped his hand into an open compartment in his armor’s thigh and brought out a disc similar to the one Kid had been using for his holographic map. He tossed it in the grass.

It activated almost immediately, bathing the air above it in a soft holographic blue. It was wide enough to encompass everyone standing so that they stood within the hologram and were forced to step back from nothing more than an instinct not to interrupt.

True to his oddity, apart from the Olympians, only Big Man Desolate didn’t move.

“Stay where you are,” Ven told everyone. “We don’t really need all the space.”

Unsurprisingly, the hologram was a projection of the forest. A detailed map that highlighted even the trees in beautiful detail where Kid’s had done less. They could see where they were now, riddled with soft dots of blue and greys.

Zed studied the map and its colors. He picked out the grey dots, his attention wandering in their relation to the blue dots clustered in one position.

The blue is us, he thought, noting how some blues shone brighter than others. And the grey are…

His thoughts trailed off as his gaze landed on Lovina’s body still propped against a tree.

…The dead.

“Now, this is where we’re looking at,” Ven said. He made a gesture with his hand and the map zoomed in on the cluster of blue. “We’re currently at this point, where we were supposed to meet up.”

Everyone seemed to ignore the red dots that were scattered all over the map, ostracized by the zoom effect.

“And where we want to be,” Ven continued, another gesture moved the map so that it treaded a straight line over a distance until he stopped it, “is here.”

The red dots staring at them this time did not go ignored.

“Why are they so big?” Eitir asked, his head barely above the surface of the hologram.

“They’re not that big,” Big Man Desolate said, then paused. “Well, I guess that depends on who you ask. A three feet long sword probably looks massive to you, doesn’t it?”

Eitir’s frown was annoyed, but judging by his choice to ignore the jibe, it was clearly something he was accustomed to.

“Why are those three dots that big?” he asked again.

“Well, we have drones scouring the area from as high as we can get,” Ven said. “And they are equipped with certain features that help gauge enemy combatants.”

“Big words from a big man,” Lady Long Legs scowled. “The dwarf asked a question, armor head. So answer it. Why are they so big?”

Ven sighed. “Because we estimate that they might be Category Three Bishop ranks. Maybe even Knights.”

“And we’re going to our deaths because?”

“Because our drone has tagged them for having remained in the same vicinity for a considerable period of time.”

“High ranking monsters aren’t known to share territory,” Festus chipped in, rubbing his jaw. “That’s not a good sign.”

“In our case, it actually is,” Ven refused. “Because studies show that there is only one reason noted so far why high ranking monsters would share a territory.”

“Let me guess,” Jason said. “Remnants of a mana surge.”

“Yes.”

Chris repeated the same gesture Ven had used on the map. “So what you’re saying is that…”

She paused when nothing happened on the map. She gestured again, frowning. Then again.

Still, nothing happened.

Ven gestured and the map zoomed out.

Before continuing, Chris shot a scowl at Zed. “You say a word and I’ll wound you.”

It drew a smile from Zed and he folded his arms. “Not a pip.”

“As I was saying,” she went on, indicating the red dots that littered the path to the high ranking monsters as her attention returned to everyone. “So we have to go through all these guys, just so we can get to those guys,” she gestured as the bright red dots, “just so we stand a chance of getting whatever is left of the mana surge?”

“Correct,” Ven said.

“And we are already certain that all we’ll be getting is a remnant. Whatever is left of it now that the monsters are done with it.”

“Yes.”

Chris shook her head. “No.” She turned to Festus. “This is madness. Doing this is madness. First of all, I’m willing to bet that most of these monsters are already Rukh rank, and considering how many there are, I doubt all of us present will survive, hell the VHF goons are almost out of ammo as it is.”

“I know,” Festus agreed, his eyes never leaving the map. “But it doesn’t change the fact that the monsters are there.”

“And if we leave them alone, they’ll only get stronger,” Eitri added. “That will make it harder to kill them.”

Chris looked between the both of them, flabbergasted. “We’re talking about a possible Knight rank monster, you both know that, right?” she asked. “I can risk my life to fight a Bishop rank with you guys but I can’t sacrifice it, which is exactly what we’re doing, sacrificing our lives.”

“Not entirely,” Jason said. “We have a Knight rank, too.”

“I’m only confident in that if all the monsters are Bishops. Can anyone assure us that they are?”

Zed stood quietly, watching Chris argue with everyone. She wasn’t wrong. He knew it clearly even without truly understanding the weight of the rank differences. But Ash was only a category three Beta rank and he couldn’t beat her in a spar. In contrast, Jason was a category three Rukh rank and most of the time he couldn’t see him when he moved. Of what use was he going to be against Bishop rank monsters?

The map stared back at Zed, a sea of blue. He studied it with the muddled focus of someone trying to understand a novel written in a language they’d almost forgotten how to speak. Somewhere in his muddled mind he knew understanding the layout wasn’t new, he just had to remember how. It was a map, and he had read maps before, plotted routes and discerned patterns. It had been one of the things the institute had taught him, existing like a vague memory. He only had to draw it back up.

It’s just like chess, he told himself, knowing the words weren’t ones he’d come up with. Every piece has their strengths and weaknesses, you just have to find out where you want to go, how you want to go there, and what you’re willing to sacrifice to get there.

He knew it was advise given to him and a group of other children when he’d been in the institute. He also knew it had been given by a combat mage, he just wasn’t sure which one.

Slowly, with the certainty of a tortoise pounding forth to its destination, he found his answer. He stepped closer to a part of the map, studying the blue and the reds. He ignored the greys because it hurt to think of death, but mostly because they served no purpose. Out of nothing but simple curiosity, he looked up at a tree were the map insisted two grey dots rested. Unfortunately, it was too high to see, thus, confirming anything was impossible.

Wasn’t that where Desolate fell from, he wondered.

Ignoring his own question, he returned his attention to the map and the knowledge he needed came to him.

“Like chess,” he muttered and stepped forward.