Status | Quests | Inventory
Escape the Island of Carim:
Join the expedition to the Hero's Tomb. Activate the portal. Walk through it.
Subquest: A Hero's Disguise
Among the hero's treasure there is an artifact called the Mask of a Thousand Faces. It gives whoever wears it a disguise undetectable by the gods themselves.
Luke scratched his chin as he read over the quest. It gave him a way out of his current predicament, and the subquest was promising. If he could get off Carim and disguise what he looked like, then he was home free. Hopefully.
Depending on where the portal took him. Or if anyone followed him to where he went. Since the quest was coming from the Seed, though, Luke was confident that it wouldn't guide him astray. Mostly confident—it was hard to forget what happened to Aeolus.
If there was one thing to learn from the dead god's example, it was that the Seed wasn't infallible. So far, the path it had laid out had been okay, but Luke wasn't blind to the fact that the Seed was willing to toe the line and put him in danger for the sake of progress.
Just the fact that it had put him in Max's body was a risk. It would have been safer, much safer, if he had possessed a body no one knew was possessed. Not that the gambit hadn't paid off. Bellerophon's Blade was a game changer, and it seemed that Nefkha had no intention of turning him in. A win-win scenario.
Honestly, at this point it's been long enough that even if he does turn me in to Arke, he would have to answer some uncomfortable questions.
"Are you thinking about how you're going to spend all those merits? What is it, a hundred and nine of them all together?" Arn asked while they were sitting in a circle around the campfire. They'd retreated there while Laxas went back into town to get the harpy wings sorted out.
"No, just life in general," said Luke.
"You're a lucky kid. When I was a newbie, I barely had two pebbles to rub together. At the rate you're earning merits, you'll practically be swimming in them."
"Earning merits seems to be pretty easy so far."
Ethan and Arn shared amused glances.
"Nah, you're just lucky. You should kiss the person who put you on this mission—two Inner Disciples, and one as prepared as Laxas. It's rare. Most of the time we go on these hunts, we scratch our asses the first day, just figuring out all the details. Laxas had everything ready, though. The wire fence, the arrows, the carriage—it couldn't have been a smoother trip. And no one got hurt … or worse. There's always a chance of that happening," Arn said, tossing another log into the flame.
Luke nodded. It had been smooth sailing for the most part.
"I'm going to turn in." Ethan covered his yawn.
"Me, too," said Arya, walking over to the carriage and grabbing a sleeping bag and tossing one to Ethan.
"I'll take one, too," Luke said, catching her eye. He had points to spend, and he needed to think about what he needed to spend them on.
With thirty-two points burning a hole in his pocket, he could practically double one of his stats. Not that he would. Maximizing one attribute at the expense of another might work in games, but with his life on the line, it was better to have a more even spread.
A jack-of-all-trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one. Especially when I don't know what I need to be better at. Saving the points is a no-go as well—no point in being weaker than I need to be at any given moment.
Status | Quests | Inventory
Name: Lukas King
Tier: Mortal
Mana: 375
Rate: 10% per hour
Strength: 26 > 30
Agility: 20 > 30
Constitution: 21 > 30
Arcana: 16 > 25
Stat Points: 0
Bloodline: Locked. Conditions not met. (1/10,000)
Charges: 7/10
Hesitating over his choices, he finalized his decision. He enjoyed the feeling of his muscles becoming both stronger and more limber. This time he also experienced a new, heady feeling of his entire body becoming more robust that came with increasing his Constitution.
Still nothing with the mana, but I can't let it lag behind, either. It would really suck if I finally start to sense it, only to find out that I don't have enough to do anything with it.
I should probably start working on the Bloodline stuff, too. It's got to be amazing if it needs a whole ten thousand points just to activate it. I wish it would tell me more about it, though. Not that anyone's ever mentioned anything about bloodlines for as long as I've been here.
Bellerophon was the son of a god, if I'm remembering his myth right. A son of Poseidon. Max was found at sea, and the Seed led me to Bellerophon's Blade. Is it a coincidence?
Luke got comfortable in his sleeping bag, knowing that he would have to wait, and wait quite a while, to find out the truth of the matter.
Laxas returned to the camp early the next morning with a massive bundle of harpy wings secured firmly to a cart. He'd stayed in town overnight to watch over the butchering work. The group packed up and began the three-day journey back to the society, arriving in the middle of the night. Once everyone had received their merits, they separated.
The next day saw Luke once again lined up at the Mission Hall. This time he was scanning for expeditions leading to Hero's Tomb. Surprisingly, he found one on the top right corner of the board, printed in bold text.
"Hi, how can I help you today?" the mission hall clerk asked.
"I'd like to sign up for Elder Irila's expedition."
"Of course." The clerk held out her hand. Luke stared at it, confused, before realizing that she was asking for his wristband. Handing it to her, she dropped it on the magic paper before handing it back to him.
"I've added you to it. The Elder is holding a meeting a week from now at her palace; the expedition will depart then. Please ensure you bring suitable rations. Keep in mind, Elder Irila has final say in who joins her expedition, and if she decides that you don't meet her criteria, she can and will leave without you. However, she explicitly left applications open to all disciples of the society. Anything else I can do for you today?" The clerk smiled at him, sliding a pamphlet across the desk.
"No, that would be everything. Thank you." Luke walked out of the building, flipping through the pamphlet. It contained basic information that all those going on the trip were expected to know.
It provided information on what they needed to bring with them, a small list of formal robes and their weapons. That was it. Apparently, they would be given enough provisions in Arlym, the island's capital, to last them the duration of the expedition. What was surprising to Luke was that it gave them a brief rundown of the island's history.
In the past, Carim had been ruled by an empress, a cultivator at the Hero tier. She had apparently offended the Atlantians, who in their fury had threatened to sink the island. Appalled and horrified, she instead bargained with them. In exchange for her life, and a tribute to be paid every year for three hundred years, the Atlantians would forgive her offense. Before her execution, she had created her own tomb and filled it with her treasures, to be opened a year before the debt was paid. Which was a few days from the present.
Reading it, Luke was horrified.
Does everyone here just live at the mercy of those stronger than them? What did she even do to piss off someone that powerful? Luke shook his head. He sorely missed civilized society, rather than the paper-thin visage of it that was present in this world. Is this what life was like in the Cold War? Just living with the knowledge that at any moment the world could turn to ash, at the whim of some dumbass with a button who lacked the sense not to press it? Except— He felt the presence of the Seed in his soul. I have a way to become a player in this game of gods.
Stowing the pamphlet away in his pocket, he made his way to the arena. He sorely needed to alleviate some stress. Having it beaten out of him in the ring had proven to be a good method to do so, and a way to get stronger at the same time. Punching people was also surprisingly fun.
I should also spend all my merits. If everything works out, I won't need to save up anymore. Some more protective talismans are a must. I should also stock up on anything I might need to survive out in the wilderness. Who knows where the portal is going to take me?
Luke walked up the wooden steps leading to the Elder's palace atop the artificially flattened mountain peak, just one body in a vast throng of people. He had underestimated the buzz the event had generated. Usually expeditions were led by Inner Disciples, and most of them didn't pan out, ultimately wasting the time of whoever was hopeful enough to join.
One organized by an Elder, however, came with a degree of confidence among those attending that it wouldn't be a waste of everyone's time.
Reaching the plateau, he took in the sight of the Grecian palace right in the middle. He had seen it before, from a distance when Nefkha flew him to the society, but it was a lot more impressive up close—even if it did feel lacking compared to the golden splendor and easy grace of Aeolus's castle.
Joining the other disciples, he stood among the crowd, in front of a stage, and waited for the Elder to kick off the campaign. Idly, he looked through the crowd for any familiar faces—a futile effort considering there were hundreds of people. Most of the society's disciples shared the same brown or black hair and lightly tanned complexion, and they all dressed the same, too, making finding faces in the crowd a doomed effort. For a moment, Luke thought he saw Spiros milling around, but when he looked for him again, he wasn't to be seen. Shrugging, he moved closer to the stage. If he was here, then Luke would see him eventually.
She arrived exactly at noon, her long black hair braided in a complex pattern, falling almost artistically around her face, down the front of her red robes.
She's … hot, Luke thought, poorly masking the look of surprise on his face. He'd assumed, incorrectly, that all the Elders would look like Nefkha—old and sturdy.
"Thank you all for joining this expedition. As most of you know, I'm Elder Irila. I'll be the one leading you to the tomb. I'm sure all of you read the pamphlet before coming here, so I'll keep this brief. The Hero's Tomb is opening, and in it resides her inheritance. In her will, she wrote that all mortals are welcome to test themselves and, if they succeed at the trials within, earn her treasures. Treasures that can take you to past the limits of mortality. The Luminous Sky Society will not be the only organization attempting the trials within. So will the Crimson Night Sect and the Brotherhood of Dawn. For those of you who are unaware, they respectively manage the provinces of Castor and Crevin, similar to how the Luminous Sky presides over Yilim. Due to the restrictions placed over the tomb, no warriors are able to enter. What this means for those of you that chose to participate is that you will be in a tomb, competing for priceless treasures, with people desperate for them, some of which are standing at the peak of mortality. You will not be safe. There will be no laws to protect you, and if you lack the ability to protect yourself, you may be killed. There will be no justice for you if you die. Not from us. Or from anyone."
Luke mulled over her speech.
Basically, anyone can go, but at our own risk. The warriors can't enter, so there's no one to ensure our safety. If anyone dies, it's their fault for being weak and attempting something they weren't ready for. What she's not saying, but implying, is that we, too, are free to act however we want. There won't be any consequences for what we do, just like there won't be any consequences for what's done to us. Serious Purge vibes.
The crowd broke into chatter, but as Luke looked around, he spotted more than one greedy expression. A chill ran down his spine as he realized that he wouldn't just be competing with the other two organizations, but with his own allies as well.
There was no predicting the kind of treasures that were present in the tomb, but they belonged to a Hero—someone an entire realm above the strongest people in the society. Putting his hand on the hilt of his sword, Luke realized that with the right treasure, some of these people who had been stuck at the middle stage, or perhaps even the peak of the late stage, could perhaps break through and become warriors. Tangible, tempting power awaited them in the tomb.
"For those of you who are unwilling to risk your life, you may leave now. Those of you who are, step forward."
Without hesitation, Luke did just that.
Getting off the island is worth a little risk.