“Meow!”
Chapter 4 [Sergeant]
Restless Night
I HAD TO ADMIT, I was pretty disappointed. At first I was glad that my sister and I had found such a perfect shelter here in the tower, and maybe even a new home for a large group of people. The kitchen was fully equipped. Next door was a workshop with a decent set of tools, although we had to be careful walking around in there — there was a huge hole in the floor where a staircase had collapsed. On the floor above us was a huge stone cistern for collecting rainwater. The water in it didn’t look particularly clean and was teeming with mosquito larvae and other insects. We’d need to filter and boil it before use. Then there was something like an ancient library full of rotting and slimy old scrolls that crumbled in the hand, and tomes on old rickety shelves. The room was half full of rocks and debris from the collapsed floor above it.
It wasn’t a lot of space, but the important thing was how difficult it was to reach. Very few dangerous creatures could climb up here, and if we cleared those spiders out of the tower and fashioned a rope ladder to be pulled up at night, then this would be a great place to live in safety and relative comfort, without fear of the night beasts and other monsters roaming below. But closer investigation revealed that all was not so rosy.
Everything screeched and moved just from gusts of wind. The roof beams and ceilings were rotten through. I saw dangerous cracks in the walls everywhere, and even bits of masonry falling off. I didn’t know whether the ancient builders had used cheap mortar or if rain and time had simply worn it away. In any case, the tower was ready to collapse at any moment, to join the other ruined buildings around the ancient fortress. There was damp all over. Water flowed down walls and across floors, and a thick layer of moss and weeds grew through the library. Cold winds danced through every room, through dark holes in the walls and up from the long drop where the staircase once stood. I was sure I could see something moving down there — maybe those spiders that attacked the veyer. Altogether, it didn’t seem such a good place to live after all.
Nonetheless, my sister and I decided to stay the night. I checked all the corners with my torch to avoid unpleasant surprises. As well as I could, I covered the yawning hole with planks, to keep out the wind and spiders. I even picked some mushrooms on the upper floor — they grew in abundance on the slimy old books and mossy stones in the old tower. I recognized the edible mushrooms at once thanks to Nonna Avetician, one of the settlers that went through the barrier. She’d shown them to me the day before. Most conveniently, the veyer had already started a vegetable soup on the stove. I just threw in the chopped mushrooms and added some salt I found in a big jar on a shelf. I put the rest of the salt in my backpack — in this world, it was a delicacy that could be traded for something useful. Unfortunately, the other pots and jugs contained nothing but trash and weeds. Although there was a tall wax-sealed pot that seemed to contain some liquid, maybe wine or oil. I grabbed that to take with us too.
While our dinner cooked, I dealt with the paralyzed thief. First I washed him. Thankfully, there was water in the cistern, and I had soap in my pack. I used his own rags as a washcloth — they weren’t much good for anything else anyway. The veyer just widened his eyes in displeasure and moved his lips weakly, but couldn’t resist. Julie was too embarrassed to be there while I bathed the boy. We had a little cloth left from the drapes we took from the ghost train, so she went to the kitchen to sew some shorts and a vest with holes for the veyer’s wings.
Why were we bothering with the veyer at all, you ask? What else could we do with him? We weren’t about to kill him. Avir Tan-Hoshi was paralyzed with venom and entirely helpless. If we left him alone in the tower in that state, the spiders would eat him. Anyway, the thief’s unwashed body stank so bad that it was unbearable to be in the same room as him.
On closer inspection, the veyer turned out to be very similar to a human, though with a disproportionately large ribcage. Very thin and incredibly light, the boy looked fifteen, but can’t have weighed more than fifty-five pounds. That couldn’t be just down to his emaciation — more likely the winged race needed to be so light to fly. Incidentally, the boy’s chest and back muscles were very impressive, but everywhere else he was pitifully weak compared to a human. Matchstick-thin arms and legs that ended in fingers tipped with predatory talons. His penis was thin as a pencil. There was no hair on his body save his head, where dark hair grew, thin but long. At his back were luxuriant black wings capable of lifting such a large body into the air.
The wings interested me most of all. I spread them open and examined them. Yeah, they were cool. Flying must have been incredible. I’d always dreamed of it. But if flying meant accepting such a drastically altered body, then I’d rather pass. Better to stay human and spend the mutation points I earned on something else.
Finally, the bath was over. I put my old swim shorts on the veyer. I’d already grown out of them and wasn’t even sure why I’d brought them into this new world. I carried the thief closer to the fire and spread his wings for him so he could dry off quicker. My sister treated the boy’s cuts and bites with ointment again, then even hand-fed the thief some of our mushroom soup — he still wasn’t able to eat on his own. His paralysis was slowly fading even without an antidote, but he would be weak and immobile for many hours to come. That suited me fine — I didn’t want any fresh unpleasant surprises from the thief.
The kitten turned his nose up at the mushroom soup, meowed in dissatisfaction and sauntered off to the library. That room seemed to particularly interest him for some reason. There must have been mice or other critters for him to hunt among the rotting bookshelves. I wasn’t all that worried about my pet — this wasn’t the first time Whiskers had refused human food and gone off to find his own.
I fashioned some beds for myself and my sister while the night beasts howled far below. Their wails soon ended sharply — the Marsh Mistress and the herd of rock lizards left below for defense quickly dealt with the enemy. I got no skill level-ups, just a small boost to my progress bar to the next level. The night beasts were few again, their levels low. And that made me think hard.
From what I could tell, it was safer to live in small groups. That eliminated the threat of the night beasts. But was that the fate of humanity? To live spread out, disparate, across a huge area of shelters and houses? Were there really no other ways to survive? Why was there this artificial limitation, forcing us to stick to one path? We’d been promised a world of endless possibility, but what we got was one of harsh limitation. Only one path, any departure from which was immediately and cruelly punished by death.
And that strange name of the night beasts, Feelers. Where had that come from? Shelly said that in the veich language, the creatures were called ‘testers.’ Feeling out, testing… Why? Who was testing what by creating the night beasts? And with what purpose? Could it be those players of the ‘Great Game’ that created this world? But if the result of this exploratory experiment failed to satisfy one side, then how to convince an enemy in the Great Game to abandon the failed idea if it benefited him?
Your character does not have enough Intellect.
I continued to think on the subject despite the system’s cruel reminder of my intellectual incompetence. There must be someone who remains deliberately neutral, who doesn’t play any side, but instead keeps watch over the processes of the new world. Most likely even someone embedded within the world itself, who sends their observations ‘upstairs’ in order to correct bugs that would naturally emerge in any complex project. The Cartographer wasn’t a bad fit for that role — a mysterious creature who could travel anywhere on a dragon and gather information on the world around him. I would need to ask the Cartographer about his role in what had happened when I next met him. I suspected that the answer to that question would cost me dearly. Very dearly. So first, I needed to find something of the same value to exchange, since information was a commodity in this world like any other, and it had its value.
With those thoughts, which seemed better suited to a Scientist or Philosopher than an impulsive Beast Catcher, I drifted off to sleep…
* * *
I woke up with a sense of alarm, a feeling that something was wrong. My first thought was the veyer, of course — the thief must have escaped and stolen my pack, or even Whiskers. But the winged boy was sleeping gently by the dying fire. Then what was bothering me..?
ATTENTION! Your level 34 Sharp-Toothed Rock Lizard has died!
What!? I shot up from my cot. Someone or something was attacking my pets! There was a battle in the courtyard below! I rushed to the window to see what was happening. The sky was beginning to lighten outside, night was ending.
ATTENTION! Your level 20 Sharp-Toothed Rock Lizard has died!
Another one dead. I had to do something before all my pets died! I leaned halfway out the window, trying to make out what was happening in the fortress courtyard. Atlas was rolled up into a ball, but the Marsh Mistress and the herd of lizards were roaming aimlessly through the courtyard among the scattered rubble. I couldn’t see any enemies. In the meantime, another lizard fell down dead right before my eyes. I saw an arrow sticking out of it.
ATTENTION! Your level 16 Sharp-Toothed Rock Lizard has died!
Eagle Eye skill increased to level twenty-one!
There was the enemy! A translucent red silhouette stood on a tall heap of rubble — I could see him with my thermal vision. A sherkh! And that bastard was shooting my pets like fish in a barrel! I whistled loudly to the Marsh Mistress to get the arachnoscorp’s attention, then ordered her to attack, pointing out the enemy. But the big arachnid didn’t seem to understand my order.
I noticed that Whiskers, too, was taking an interest in what was happening below. He’d jumped up onto the window ledge. Until now, the ginger kitten had spent all night in the old library, presumably hunting. Now he watched through the window with me and growled threateningly.
ATTENTION! Your level 50 Sharp-Toothed Rock Lizard has died!
I needed to teach this arrogant foe a lesson before he got carried away. He’d pick off my pets in no time. Without their master, my beasts were completely helpless. All they could do was wander the tiny courtyard in panic, with no way to see the enemy. I had to climb down and help right away. Luckily, I’d slept in my armor just in case. I quickly grabbed the skein of rope from my backpack, tied one end to a rusty hook in the wall that I hoped would still hold, then threw the rope through the window. Perfect — it reached all the way to the ground. I climbed out the window, and just like we’d been taught in the army, I started to rappel down the wall, bouncing off with my feet. Just at the last moment, the kitten joined me, jumping down onto my shoulder.
ATTENTION! Luck check failed!
Damn! I felt a sharp pain and my hit points fell by two thirds. What the hell!? The sherkh had redirected his fire from the lizards to their master and broken through my armor. And from stealth and in the back, too — the system surely calculated that as a critical hit. The arrow stuck into my back around my left shoulderblade. That hurt! And my left arm was useless now. With great difficulty, I continued my descent.
ATTENTION! Luck check failed!
Heavy Armor skill increased to level eight!
Screw you! The next arrow didn’t break through my armor, but hit me hard on my right elbow and I lost my grip. I didn’t so much rappel as fall down the final yards to the ground, burning the skin of my hands on the rope. My health was almost down to zero. But I was still alive!
Now to get to the Marsh Mistress. The arachnoscorp was only a short distance away. I called the spider to me and hid from the archer behind her large body. The Marsh Mistress twitched nervously when another arrow thrummed into her, but she stayed in position and let me climb onto her back. Now it was time to fight! Attack! I aligned my pet toward the enemy.
The sherkh delayed his next shot, still standing on the heap of stones and letting us get closer. He thought I couldn’t see him and he was waiting to get the perfect shot. Think again, asshole! I ordered the Marsh Mistress to leap to the top of the pile of rubble. Then she felt out the target and dropped her huge frame down on the archer, pinning him beneath legs and mandibles.
“Wait!” I shouted, stopping my bloodthirsty mount from finishing off her prey at the last second. “Just hold him! Don’t kill him!”
I had to repeat the command twice before the enraged Marsh Mistress listened to me and froze, holding the archer down against the stones with her legs. Twisting in pain, I carefully crawled to the ground and went to see who the hell had come to attack us in this old fortress. The long-eared and white-haired sherkh had already fallen out of stealth, so now I could read the name tag above his head.
Arvedo Un Ponar. Sherkh. Male. Guild: Eastern Garrison. Level 38 Scout.
Avelia’s brother… Well, that made sense. That bastard had already tried to kill my girlfriend Shelly the same way, from stealth. And no doubt he hated me for beating him then, and for breaking his arm too. Arvedo’s arm still hadn’t healed, so the sherkh had swapped his bow for a small one-handed crossbow.
I kicked the crossbow out of my defeated enemy’s hand, swept it further away with my foot and sat down nearby. Daggers, throwing knives, another thin dagger in a scabbard on his ankle… I took it all away, along with his belt bag — who knew what dangerous items he might be keeping in it? I had so few Health Points left that there were a thousand ways to kill me in that moment, even with just a punch. I noticed I was trailing blood on the ground. Despite my regeneration from my high Physique, my health bar continued to drop slowly. I needed to do something with my wound before I bled out.
In the meantime, the last of the surviving lizards — the white one with the crest, the one my sister chose — ran over and bit the sherkh on the leg. Arvedo groaned through clenched teeth. I allowed the happy lizard to chew on him for a bit, keeping a careful eye on the prisoner to make sure he didn’t croak. Wow! The rock lizard gained levels fast from attacking an enemy so much stronger than herself. Alright, alright, enough! I chased away the excited sharp-toothed lizard, who had leveled up from eleven to sixteen in literally a minute and whose bites were now far stronger.
Eagle Eye skill increased to level twenty-two!
I saw movement in the corner of my eye — first a stone suddenly rolled all on its own, then I saw a red silhouette five paces from me. Another sherkh! The most difficult part was not to look in that direction, so as not to give away that I’d seen the new threat. And not only seen, but even recognized the watcher. Avelia! Why was she here? She hadn’t intervened yet, but was watching the proceedings closely. I needed to be careful with her brother, otherwise the dangerous Swordmaiden would attack me.
“Are the sherkhs and humans at war now? Why the hell did you kill my pets?” I asked firmly. No answer came. The sherkh just shook his head and spat at me.
It took a lot of effort to hold my fist back from turning the bastard’s nose into a bloody mess, but I did it. I wiped my face and stepped back. My whole body hurt and I was wet all over with blood beneath my armor. Nonetheless, outwardly I kept my cool, sat down on the stones near the disarmed prisoner and spoke evenly.
“Tell me, Arvedo, how come your sister is such a fine example of nobility and honor, but you’re a pathetic filthy rat who can only backstab and betray? Attacking an unarmed girl from behind and killing defenseless lizards is the best you can do. How is it that in the same family, one of you can become a proud scout leader and the other can only be a pathetic sadist who preys on the weak?”
I spoke calmly, but I was trying to provoke my opponent. And I got the response I wanted.
“That will change soon! In three days, we’ll see which of us is the pathetic loser! I will take Avelia’s place when she fails the challenge at Hundred Skull City once again! And you, human, have been sentenced to death for bringing shame on my sister!”
The sherkhs had sentenced me to death? I took the news surprisingly calmly. I wasn’t worri
ed about the long view now, more about my current condition. My head was spinning and a red haze filled my eyes, but my hit points didn’t seem to be falling anymore. My Regeneration was working. I stared at my enemy.
“I brought shame on her? Bullshit! I never even touched your sister.”
“Liar! I saw her naked beside you!” My enemy grimaced in anger and tried to spit at me again, but fell short.
“In that case you saw more than I did. I was being respectful and didn’t look while she changed her clothes. But you aren’t just a coward, it turns out, you’re also a pervert who likes to watch his elder sister get changed! And on top of that…”
I broke off when I realized that Arvedo Un Ponar had, for some reason, died. Only when I stepped closer and turned the sherkh’s head did I see the throwing knife sticking out of his neck.
“What the hell, Avelia!? Why’d you kill him?”
The Swordmaiden emerged from stealth, shook her head.
“My brother didn’t see me. He’ll think you killed him. I warn you, Arvedo is vengeful and treacherous. I know that better than anyone. So be careful, Sergeant — my brother will never stop pursuing you! I can help, but only if you help me with the challenge first. If you do that, then… no, I can’t promise to be your friend, but you will no longer be an enemy to me even if our peoples go to war. If you agree, then we’ll meet in Hundred Skull City in two days. If not, then know that my father has forbidden me from even speaking to you, so you can solve your problems yourself!”
Chapter 5 [Kitten]
Secret Room
SERGEANT WAS slowly dying, although he didn’t realize it. Overpowering his pain, my master laughed, smiled and spoke to the sherkh Swordmaiden as if nothing was amiss. In the meantime, the puddle of blood spreading beneath him was starting to spread even faster, and I could hear wheezing and bubbling from his chest. His left lung was punctured and deflating. And although Sergeant’s hit points had balanced out at two to three percent thanks to his regeneration, I knew that wouldn’t last long. His internal bleeding continued. The Beast Catcher’s strength was failing. He needed urgent medical help, even surgery — the arrow sticking out of his back needed to be removed as soon as possible.
In Service of the Pharaoh (League of Losers Book #2): LitRPG Series Page 4
