That's an awfully fancy sword you have there." Ethan eyed Luke's shiny golden blade. "That's the one that was hanging in the armory, right?"
"Mmm-hmm." Luke grunted, holding it parallel to his nose, inspecting the blade for what must have been the hundredth time since he'd bought it.
Arya looked at the blade curiously. "How did you get the merits for it so fast? I wanted to buy it myself, but wasting three hundred merits to satisfy my vanity wasn't something that I could do."
"I went herb picking, and we ran into a black-scaled king viper. Bit of an unexpected windfall."
"Explosive talismans?" Laxas asked from the front of the carriage, his eyes focused on the road as the lizards pulled the carriage along at blistering speeds under his guidance. He seemed to enjoy the task, almost unreasonably so.
"Yup."
He nodded approvingly. "Not a bad strategy. Anyway, we're almost to the town. Luke, since this is your first time, there are some ground rules. One, don't mess with the locals. I'd go so far as to say don't even talk to them. If you do run into them, they will ask you how to cultivate. Do. Not. Tell. Them." Laxas looked over his shoulder and straight into Luke's eyes. "That's rule two."
Luke frowned. "How come?"
"It's … not wise," Arya chipped in. "If everyone is aware that all you need to do to surpass the limits of mortality is exercise, at least to get to the middle of the Mortal tier, it makes people harder to control."
"Why is that a bad thing?" Luke asked, not understanding where she was coming from.
"Well, every time some town or village figures out the 'big secret,'" said Ethan, "it always ends in bloodshed."
"Huh?"
"Some lunatics always end up thinking that because they're strong enough to do something, they have the right to do it. After all, if they get stronger than everyone around them, then who's going to stop them?" he elaborated.
"But how is that different from cultivating in the society?" Luke asked.
"It's not. You saw the Winged Woman earlier—she strolled right in, and the Elders had no choice but to kneel at the foot of her throne. Really, there's just less chaos, the fewer of us there are. Besides, between you and me, all those people who don't walk the path aren't exactly losing out on much. Out of a thousand, maybe ten people can get past the midstage boundary, and the number of people who ascend to the Warrior tier is even smaller than that."
"Right." Luke nodded along, not really satisfied with the reasoning, but at the same time not wanting to argue the pros and cons of the masses cultivating mana. If doing so got him in trouble with the Luminous Sky, it wasn't worth it. He could explore the subject once he wasn't worried about Arke cracking his soul apart like he had a toy inside him.
"Rule three is also pretty simple," said Laxas, pulling the carriage over and stopping just outside a town's gates. "Don't sell anything from the society to those not in the society. Not talismans, not weapons, not potions, nothing. Not all mortals know that becoming a god is possible, and of those that do, we keep the number small, and we maintain an aura of mystery. Selling our stuff to mortals breaks that illusion. As far as they know, everything they can offer us is worthless. Which is true anyway, so don't bother."
"I will not."
"Good. I'd hate to kill you." He looked Luke dead in the eye before bursting out laughing. "I'm just joking. Mostly. Anyway"—he climbed out of the carriage—"you four wait here. I'll go talk to the leader of the place, and we can figure out our game plan," Laxas said, walking off. "Someone wake Arn up, too."
"So, Luke, you know how to use a bow right?" Ethan asked, pulling one free from the pile and loading a quiver with arrows.
"I know the general gist of it, yeah."
"Let's see what you got." He nocked an arrow on a bow and handed it to Luke. "Hmm. Aim for the knot on that tree." He pointed to a leafy tree twenty paces away.
Luke accepted the bow, taking a moment to get used to its weight. When he turned toward the tree, he was surprised by the amount of force required to actually draw the arrow. Wincing in pain as the string dug uncomfortably deep into his fingers, he only managed to draw it back a quarter of the way before letting it loose.
It missed the tree he was aiming at completely and sank a quarter of the way into a tree to the left of it. He frowned in annoyance.
Am I really that weak? I can't even draw a bow.
"Try this one instead." Ethan handed him another bow, an arrow already nocked.
Eyebrows furrowed, Luke did just that. Squinting with one eye, he drew the string back and aimed it at the knot, and thankfully, while it still wasn't easy, he was able to pull it all the way back. Adjusting his aim, he let the string go, and this time he managed to hit the right tree, the arrow sinking in a quarter of the way through with a satisfying thunk—although that still wasn't where he was aiming.
"This one is better. Thank you," said Luke. Reaching for another arrow, he took another inaccurate shot.
"You're welcome—just make sure you don't shoot any of us. That bow should be powerful enough to kill the weaker harpies, so aim for the small, skinny ones. Don't waste arrows on the bigger ones."
"Luke," Arya called out. "Are you going to be able to handle killing them?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, they look like women, with wings for arms. and talons for feet. They're not, but they do look like people. You're not going to freak out when you see them die, right?"
Luke frowned as he thought about her question. He knew they looked like people, having flipped through a bestiary after killing the snake. Even that had made him queasy—at least, watching it suffer had. Would this be worse because they looked more human?
A few weeks ago, he knew the answer would have been yes. He hated blood. Even in movies, it bothered him. Except he had changed. Dying, witnessing souls being eaten by a dying god. Coming to this world. Possessing Max's body and inheriting his memories. Memories he was just now realizing may have had an effect on who he was. Because while Luke wasn't fond of blood, Max had been gutting fish and chopping heads off chickens for as long as he could remember.
Would this be the same?
"I'll be fine," he answered after a moment. He'd have to be fine—it wasn't like he had a choice. If not now, then in the future, he'd have to be. Otherwise, he might as well have rejected the Seed and left himself to the whims of fate.
The Seed, which had guided him toward Bellerophon's Blade. It had probably even picked this island, and Max's body, just to give Luke access to it. A sword that just so happened to siphon mana from those it cut. The message was fairly clear.
Besides, he thought, these harpies are kidnapping men and killing people. They need to go. This is a public service.
"That's good. I know killing can be rough for some people," said Arn, yawning as he hopped off the carriage. "I'll be back." He walked into the forest.
"I swear, that man relieves himself every hour. I've seen him piss more in three days than I have in three weeks," Ethan grumbled, sorting through the arrows.
Arya crinkled her nose in disgust as she tied her dark hair in a bun. "Gross."
"It's weird." Ethan grinned at her.
"It's not that weird. He just drinks a lot of water. Stays hydrated, you know." Luke defended him, suddenly conscious about the fact that he, too, drank a lot of water and had joined Arn on his pit stops more often than not.
"Oh, look. Laxas is back," Arya pointed out, eager to change the subject.
"Okay! So, here's the situation: there's a nest on the other side of the town. They said it's easy to see if we just stick to the river. The birds sleep during the day, and it's getting kind of late. I say we camp out here tonight and attack the nest tomorrow afternoon," Laxas said. "Are we all okay with that?"
"Works for me." Luke ran his fingers over the bow's sinewy string, planning to practice his skills with the weapon.
"Same. Why don't we just sleep at an inn in town, though?" asked Ethan.
"Well, I wanted to give our newest member here a taste of what he can expect tomorrow. We're far enough away from the nest that we'll only attract a handful of strays. It should be good practice for him."
Night fell over their makeshift campsite not long after. They sat around a roaring campfire, which, Laxas claimed, would draw the harpies right to them.
Luke kept his hand on the pommel of his sword in preparation. His eyes constantly darted through the darkness in search of their would-be foe.
"Take it easy, Luke," said Arn, lying back to watch the star-filled sky. "You'll hear them coming. They make these loud clicking noises when they move."
"He's right. They're not stealthy. It's also not good to be so tense before a battle—that's how you make mistakes. Take some deep breaths and relax." Ethan was roasting a rabbit he had caught earlier over the flame. "How's fighting in the ring going? I've seen you going there pretty regularly over the past week or two. Second ring now, right?"
"It's going well. The first ring was getting too easy. I would get weird looks after winning five or six fights in a row."
"That's good." He took a bite out of the rabbit before spitting it out. "Awgh. It's still raw. The first ring is all the people who're gonna get the boot."
"That's not true. Stop filling the newbie's mind with nonsense."
"You still fight in the first ring, Arn?" Ethan turned toward him.
"No, I stopped after my first two or three weeks, but"—he climbed onto his elbows—"I know people who made it to the midrank without ever fighting someone at the arena."
"And how many others did you know that never fought in the arena, that ended up in white robes—or worse, got expelled from the society? What even happens to those people anyway?"
"They get sent to the mines," said Laxas.
"Fuck. Really?" Ethan stared at him, horrified.
"It's not that bad."
"The mines?" Luke glanced between the two, not having heard of the term before.
"Mana-crystal mines," Ethan answered. "The society manages a few, but it's dangerous work. A lot of the people who work there end up dead."
"Ethan is exaggerating. I got sent to the mines myself. It's hard work, but it pays well, and if you can reach the midstage or higher, they let you return to the society," said Laxas.
"I've done guard duty there. It's miserable," Ethan argued.
"I suppose." Laxas shrugged. "It's not as fun as being in the society, but it's the same premise—you work, they feed you, and you cultivate. Besides, if you ever end up there, it's because you pissed away three years in the society, living in the lap of luxury and not giving anything back."
"Do you hear that?" asked Arya, reaching for her bow and nocking an arrow.
Luke jumped to his feet and strapped his shield to his arm before drawing his sword. Its blade shone dimly in the light of the fire. Straining his eyes in the dark, he felt his heart beat in anticipation as he heard them come. A wet clicking sound reverberated through the night.
Arya fired two arrows in quick succession. A moment later, Luke heard two heavy thuds as two harpies dropped to the ground. Dead.
"Nice shot," Laxas praised.
"You two can see them?" Arn asked, drawing his own sword with a swish.
"Perks of being in the late stage," Laxas answered smugly. "Luke. Arya left one for you. Be ready. The rest of you, don't interfere," he warned.
Luke tensed his grip on his sword.
It came into view seconds later. A hideous creature. Every surface of its vaguely feminine body was covered in dirty black fuzz. A humanoid torso, with large, feathered wings for arms, and humanlike thighs that turned to bird legs at the knees. Instead of feet, the creature had wicked talons. Its face lacked ears, a nose, and a mouth, instead possessing a large pointy beak, above which were two small and beady eyes. They met Luke's gaze with animalistic frenzy.
She circled the air above Luke and swiped at him with her talons. He warded her off with a swipe of his sword, and she screeched in pain as the golden blade bit into the flesh of her leg. Beating her wings rapidly, she flew back, climbing higher and higher. Seemingly, she'd decided her target wasn't prey after all.
Thwip. Thwip. An arrow pierced each of her shoulders, and with her limbs immobilized, she fell to the ground.
"Kill it," Laxas said, a bow in his hand.
Luke raised his shield as he approached her. Realizing that, stranded as she was on the ground, she lacked means of attacking him, her wings making ineffectual weapons.
She watched in fear as Luke approached her, blindly lashing out with her wings as she limped away from him. Luke's prior slash had cut deeper than he expected.
Fuck this. Fuck this. Fuck this.
Luke closed the distance and, with a powerful lunge, stabbed his sword through her chest. He watched miserably as life faded from the creature's eyes.
+2 Stat Points
Luke dismissed the message as soon as it came.
Guess this is my life now.