"Empty your pockets," said Luke, his sword pressed lightly against his Nafik's throat. A request he regretted immediately, as Nafik rummaged around in his pockets with his undamaged hand. Watching him carefully in case he pulled any last-minute tricks while trying to stay as level-headed as he could under the circumstance. He trampled his irritation as what should have been a simple task took the wounded man way too long to complete. Irritation founded in the guilt he was already feeling for what he was about to do.
"That's everything." Nafik laid out all his possessions. It wasn't much. A few vials of pills, a few more talismans, and a sack full of coins.
"Is it?"
"It is." He nodded frantically.
Luke stepped on each item, sending it into his inventory as he did so, careless of the fact that it was a power he shouldn't have. Nafik's eyes widened.
"I thought only warriors could use storage rings? Is that how y—" Luke stuck his blade into his heart. Staring into his eyes, his gaze locked with Nafik's.
"I'm sorry," he said, watching death's grip get stronger on his foe. "If it's any consolation, death isn't the end. I never really found out what was supposed to happen, but I hope you find peace."
"Ghk. Ghhh," he wheezed.
+5 Stat Points
I just killed him.
Luke dismissed the message as soon as it came, stumbled away from the body, and puked his guts out on the wall farthest away from the corpse. Idly, he noted the mechanical noise of another passage opening as he heaved, confirming his suspicions about the nature of their battle.
He couldn't just leave, though. Something about it felt disrespectful. Kneeling by the body, he used his shield as a makeshift shovel and covered the remains with sand. Then, collecting Nafik's sword, he laid it on his buried body.
"Try not to get eaten on the way," he said, standing over the body. He gave it a final nod and walked away without looking back, calling up his status as he did so.
Status | Quests | Inventory
Name: Lukas King
Tier: Mortal
Mana: 608
Rate: 15% per hour
Strength: 38 > 40
Agility: 35
Constitution: 35 > 38
Arcana: 32
Stat Points: 0
Bloodline: Locked. Conditions not met. (1/10,000)
Charges: 7/10
He dumped three points into Constitution and the remaining two in Strength. It felt like a good compromise for the moment. The Strength stat, he felt, was the most useful, at least when it came to short-term gains. Being more durable was also bound to come in handy. More than that, increasing his Constitution came with the benefit of increasing his total available mana. Which, while he still couldn't use it, was bound to be useful when he unlocked the ability.
He tried not to let the guilt of his actions weigh on him as he walked down the long, narrow corridor. Watching out for traps helped at first, but as the time spent walking down the corridor increased from seconds to minutes and then to hours, all with nothing happening, his mind kept returning to the fact that he had killed someone.
That he was now a murderer. That the person he'd killed had had a mother and a father. That they would spend the rest of their lives not knowing what happened to their son. That the person he'd killed had had friends that cared for him. Maybe he even had a child, or a lover.
It weighed on him, that he'd robbed someone of their life.
I would do it again, too. I'm not going to let someone kill me, even if it means that I'll have to kill them. It's just nature. Survival of the fittest. He tried to console himself.
Is that what this test is about? Understanding that I have to kill?
He sighed as he stopped walking for a moment. Pulling some food out of his inventory, he began to chew on it as he resumed his journey at a more sedate pace. It tasted like ash on his tongue, but he forced it down anyway.
I can't let this break me. I'll have to kill again, and likely for dumber reasons than this. Whether it's to protect my secrets, or because showing mercy would mean trouble down the road. Or even if it's just to get stronger. I don't think I'll be able to get away from it.
That's that, then, he thought, grasping for straws as he tried to make sense of the situation. Kill when I need to, try not to when I can get away with it … Maybe the other way around.
He finished up his meal and started walking again.
What's going on? Am I supposed to do something other than just keep moving forward? Or is this another test?
He remembered Spiros telling him about the test he'd undergone to join the society.
Is that what this is? A test of determination? See who has the resolve to just keep on pushing, even without an end in sight. Just a way to cull the numbers as we go through.
It makes sense if that's what this is about. First we fought the scorpion, and I bet there were some who died from that thing. Especially if the one they fought hadn't been as lethargic as mine and attacked right away. Then we faced off against each other in a one v. one. That cuts the number down to half by itself.
Either way, it's not like I have a choice but to keep going. In fact, I have an advantage. I can keep going longer than probably anyone in the trial. None of us were allowed to bring food or water in here, and it's been at least five hours. The longer this goes on, the larger my advantage gets. Simply because I'm the only one who can eat and drink.
A few more hours of mindless walking later, the corridor finally gave way to a large, open cavern, glowing ominously with bright orange-red light.
Luke inched forward cautiously, his shield raised and his sword ready, wary of a surprise attack. This time, however, that didn't seem to be the case.
Walking out of the hall and onto a protruding ledge, Luke observed the scene of the next trial.
There was a giant obelisk, a hundred meters tall, in the middle of a lake of lava. From its tip, even more lava oozed out and dribbled into the pool of bright molten rock at its base. Stones jutted out from it in a helical pattern, leading to a large, shadowy entrance a quarter of the way up.
How are we supposed to get there, though? Luke thought as he inched toward the edge.
"ONLY TEN MAY PASS." An angry but distinctly female voice rang out in the room. At her proclamation, large metallic blocks rose to the surface of the lake. They were irregularly spaced and just far enough apart to allow Luke to jump from one to the other. All led to the center of the room where the obelisk stood.
Luke frowned. This is going to suck. A lot. He glanced at the walls encircling the tower, unsurprised to see shadowy figures emerging onto protruding ledges, positioned at regularly spaced intervals. Some of them were already dropping onto the metal platforms. Glancing below, he was glad to see a metal platform just under it, making the first jump easy.
Sighing in resignation at the ridiculous nature of the trial, Luke jumped onto it, wincing as he felt the heat underneath his feet.
Okay, it's pretty hot, but not burning. Thank go— Actually, fuck the gods; this is insane. Why couldn't the hero just give us a written exam, or do a raffle, or anything less lethal for her treasure?
No, that's not fair. We're all idiots who signed up for this death trap of a trial. I knew it was going to be bull. I did it anyway. I just have to live with it now. I chose to take the Seed. I could have said no. I could have said no to possessing this body. I could have never bought the blade. I could have ignored every quest I received. I didn't.
This is the price. Some dead asshole who loves Floor Is Lava way too much is making us kill each other for her treasures. Sure, I could never have guessed this would be my life after I died, but Aeolus was eating souls, for fuck's sake. I knew what I was getting into. I knew it wouldn't be peaches and cream.
I can't cry about it now. I can't cry about it ever. It's useless. Either I die, and move the fuck on, or I keep going. Keep doing every one of these dumb quests until I'm a god. Then I'll go back to Earth and finally figure out what the One Piece is. Maybe troll some people. It would be so awesome to show up in a flying saucer.
That's it, Luke. Remember why you're killing all these people.
Hyping himself up as best as he could, he leaped to the next platform, and then the next, and then the next. Ignoring the burning heat on his feet while keeping an eye out for all the others doing the same. So far none of them were close enough to target each other, but that was bound to change, and change soon.
Three platforms later, it finally happened.
Just as he was about to jump, Luke spotted something fly through the air and land on the platform he was about to land on. Luke frowned as he staggered back, covering his eyes as bits of lava splattered at his feet from the exploding talisman.
"Seriously!" Luke shouted at the figure, more than a dozen meters away. Snarling, he pulled out two of his own exploding talismans. Counting down, he tossed one near the foot of the platform the guy was standing on, and one near the platform closest to him. Aiming for the lava instead of the actual person with both of them.
The figure howled as the molten rock splashed on to him, immediately setting his robes on fire. Luke watched dispassionately as he stumbled into the lava and died, too angry to feel guilty for killing another man.
The rest of the figures watched quietly as they processed what had just happened. Some of them reached into their robes and pulled out their own talismans.
"Wait," Luke shouted. "How about we all agree not to go crazy with the explosions? All right? Whoever throws one next gets bombarded by everyone else. Deal? Trust me, I brought a lot of them with me, and I doubt I'm the only one. I don't care how strong you are—all of us will burn to death just like that guy if we go that route."
"Deal. We fight on the steps, or if we need to use the same platform," someone shouted.
"Agreed!"
Luke allowed himself to relax, just a little, as a chorus of voices rang out in agreement. He'd averted his fear of all of them going down in a hail of explosions and splatters of magma.
Mutually assured destruction for the win, I guess.
Focusing on the next platform, he jumped over and, looking at his competition, realized that things would be getting tight and soon.
They had all started quite far from each other, but as they closed in on the structure at the center, the area they were concentrated in kept on getting smaller and smaller.
To his right, two cultivators landed on adjacent platforms, with the only way forward being a platform they would have to share.
Luke jumped onto the next platform, watching them to see how it would play out.
It wasn't pretty. Both of them stared at each other before launching themselves at the platforms at the same time. It would have been smarter to not risk a fight, or maybe even come to an agreement and work together, but instead, as soon as they landed, they fought.
The girl caught her opponent's sword on her shield, and before she could react, her opponent stepped back and kicked, striking the large, circular surface of her shield powerfully. Staggering back, she almost fell into the lava then and there, just barely managing to stop herself from falling. Grunting, she chucked her shield at him as hard as she could.
He knocked it into the lava with ease and was caught off guard when she charged forward and pierced his sword hand.
He watched in despair as his only weapon fell into the lava, seemingly not even registering the pain of having a sword stabbing into him
Disarmed and lacking a shield, her opponent, realizing that he was going to lose, forwent even an attempt at battle and rushed her—impaling himself on her sword as he did so, and tackling them both into the lava.
Luke shook his head at that and kept advancing leap by leap. Until both he and a large, black-robed figure were primed to leap onto a single platform. Just a few hops away from the tower.
I have a bad feeling about this.