Leveling Up The World 4: A LitRPG Adventure, page 66
Focus, Dallion thought. The blocker rings negated the effectiveness of his music skill, so he had to use alternative matters. Pain rushed to his temples as Dallion increased the intensity of his glance. Time seemed to slow down. Within moments, he was able to see thousands of micro expressions that were otherwise invisible. Barely noticeable, there were twitches—surprise, annoyance, uncertainty. Dallion could see that this was one piece of information the man didn’t expect. Even so, he was hiding it remarkably well, especially given how much he could lose.
“I see the news hasn’t reached you yet. Should we consider this a freebie?”
“How generous of you.” The general leaned forward on his desk.
“They have found a number of Vermillion’s Tears. I assume you know what the artifacts do?”
“Of course. I even had one in my possession but had to let it go for another item. Looking at things, maybe it was a mistake to do so.”
Dallion was tempted to agree just to rub it in but decided it would be better if he remained detached. He had come here asking favors, after all.
“I’m here to ask for information, and assistance, that will help me track down the cultists in question.”
“Is that all?” The general’s words were dripping with sarcasm. “Nothing major, then.”
If Nil were still able to talk to Dallion, he’d no doubt explain in great detail what sort of blunder he’d made. It was foolish that he wouldn’t make a few mistakes—neither of his lives were familiar with the goings on in the world. The former chief of Dallion’s village had gone to great lengths to ensure that. Seeing how complicated things were, Dallion was starting to see part of the appeal.
“I know this isn’t the game you wanted, but I don’t have the time.” Dallion continued. The closer he kept to the truth, the better. “I could have gone to the overseer, but there’s no telling whether that wouldn’t accelerate things. Stopping the destruction of the city is in both of our interests. Knowing you, you already have a price in mind, so either tell me what it is or stop wasting my time!”
Dallion held his breath. This had come out far more forceful than he had imagined, almost as if it was someone else talking. Could it be that he had uncovered a new flaw? Or was this the result of him having dealt with one? Either way, his outburst had the desired effect,
“You’ll owe me an artifact of my choosing,” the general said at last. “Not a random trinket, but something specific I have my sights on.”
“Done.”
There was a long moment of silence. Both stared each other in the eyes, as if waiting for a sigh from the Moons to confirm the arrangement. Finally, the general took another sip of his cup.
“The cult doesn’t have a base of operations,” the man said. “Not even a meeting item. It’s far too risky. Instead, they are constantly in motion. All it takes is for them to be in sight of one another to exchange information. The overseer is the only one who can catch them in the act.”
“What about the kaleidovrimas?”
“Useless. Sure, you might be able to spot one or two, but that only works once. You saw what happened when you uncovered one. Found any since then?”
“One.”
“Probably a new member. Now that they know about you, they’ll make sure to be in a different part of the city. That’s what makes them difficult to catch. You can spend day and night running through the city and the only thing you’ll know is where they aren’t.”
“I figured as much,” Dallion lied. He had no idea how star cultists operated. Even so, his plan never relied on tracking them in the first place. “The artifacts. They’ll need to use the Vermillion keys for this to work. If we can track those down—”
“It’ll take an empath to manage that.” The general shook his head. “Regardless of the nature of the items, they were acquired legally, so there will be no screaming from their guardians.”
Dallion bit his tongue. He was this close to sharing that he was an empath before realizing that it wouldn’t do him any good, not at his current level of empathy. With his “range” of talking to guardians, he didn’t have the time to go search the entire city or to improve his trait. He was so close and yet so far away.
“However, there is a way.” A smile formed on the general’s face. “I might have a way of tracking down the item that was briefly in my possession. Just that one, mind you. Would that be enough?”
“It’ll have to be.” Euphoria filled Dallion. “Given their haste, we can hope that they don’t have spares.”
“I’ll have someone see to it. Anything else?”
“One last thing. I’ll need something that will help me break into a guild undetected…”
WHISPER FROM THE PAST
Three artifacts from the wilderness—that was the deal Dallion had been forced to make with the general. The only concession he had managed to get was that if Dallion managed to reach the top eight, or if the tournament was suspended, he would keep the whip blade for free.
The Gremlin’s Timepiece remained packed by the time Dallion went back. Even so, it felt empty. The Luors were gone, leaving Jiroh to take care of serving the food that Pan had prepared before his departure. Hannah was taking everything remarkably well, even if it was looking like this was going to be the last night that the inn would serve food. For all intents and purposes, from here on it was only going to be a place for people to rest and have a drink.
You should go see your girlfriend, the armadil shield said. After tonight, you might not get the chance.
Dallion didn’t respond. He knew that the shield was right but preferred not to think about it for the moment. It wasn’t that Dallion blamed Eury for the change in their relationship. Rather, it was his reluctance to say goodbye.
Don’t build up new regrets, the shield added.
There won’t be any regrets. Good night.
Sleep came quickly. If there were any dreams, Dallion didn’t remember them. The closest to a dream was him being woken up by a chorus of guardians singing together. The chorus was surprisingly chaotic—apparently new guardians were musical. It was a good thing, too, for there was less than an hour remaining until his fight at the arena.
Slightly panicked, Dallion washed up, then quickly got dressed and prepped his gear. On his way out, he passed by the kitchen out of habit. Unfortunately, the room was like a desert. With Pan gone, so was breakfast. The only edible things were a few sacks of apples which, although first grade, were nowhere as good as a ready meal. Even so, he grabbed a few, leaving several silvers on the kitchen table.
You could have slept a bit more in your realm, dear boy, Nil said as Dallion was getting ready to leave.
Dallion wasn’t thrilled with the idea, although he did venture into his personal realm to level up. The trial felt remarkably easy compared to what he expected. It turned out to be yet another paradox cube in which he had to fight several advanced echoes of himself throughout an ever-changing environment. His reaction was the focus of the trial this time, which proved to be more than enough to advance him to level twenty-six. Dallion spent the point advancing his empathy stat—the greater the range at which he could converse with items, the better the odds of him finding the Vermillion artifact later on.
The hidden prize turned out to be of minor significance—a crescent sword blueprint, which, while far superior to a standard weapon, couldn’t compare to the gear Dallion had in his possession. Half a day had been spent searching for the hidden area, leading to a massive disappointment. Secretly, Dallion hoped he would find an achievement, possibly even one that brought his empathy to nine. Instead, he was forced to leave his realm pretty much empty handed and head straight to the arena.
With Dallion waking up late, the streets were so full that it was better to use rooftops to reach the building. Normally, the city guard would frown on this, but since many of them had seen him fight at the arena, they let it go with a nod and a smile. Upon arriving, the atmosphere changed. Unlike previous rounds, Dallion was quickly rushed to the massive waiting halls by an organizer’s assistant. There he was approached by a well-dressed woman who wore the emblem of the lord mayor’s household.
“Good morning, sir.” The woman bowed. Reaching the level of semi-celebrity status, Dallion was given a taste of things to come, probably to make him more eager to fight. “Please follow me. I’ll lead you to your waiting room.”
“I have my own personal waiting room?”
“Not yet, sir. You’ll be sharing one with three other contestants. However, if you manage to reach the next round, you will.”
With sixty-four participants remaining, it was expected there would be some benefits before the fight itself. Having only four people in the waiting room was far better than what Dallion had experienced before.
Try not to be too cocky, dear boy, Nil said. Your opponent is sure to be skilled. Don’t drop your guard or you’ll have to go through three more rounds of fights.
Hardly an issue, Nil. I have something special planned.
The waiting room was already “full” by the time Dallion got there. Unlike him, his competitors were all wearing full plate armor. Seeing the fine craftsmanship and materials used, Dallion felt relieved he hadn’t brought his own creations.
“Fresh blood for the grinder,” one of the people greeted Dallion. He was about the same height, though much broader, equipped with two pairs of swords, all sheathed on his back. Had Dallion seen a drawing of the man, or even a picture he would have laughed how unrealistic the whole thing was. Seeing him in person, though, made it obvious that the man knew exactly what he was doing.
The other two participants weren’t any less intimidating. The single woman in the room could be described as a version of March. If she ended up Dallion’s opponent, it was going to be one difficult fight. Thankfully, most of her armor wasn’t indestructible, although it would still take several strikes with the Nox dagger to make it crack.
The last man was rather round—closer to Falkner’s age, and with a family emblem to match. However, that wasn’t the greatest difference; his skin and hair were dark brown. Ever since arriving in this world, Dallion had seen a handful people of different complexions. The first was Dame Vesuvia, who had led the chainling hunt. The second was Jiroh, who was a thunder fury. Finally, the last was Falkner.
A noble from the provincial capital, Nil said. He might even be part of the archduke’s family. Better be careful. He’ll be the most challenging one here.
So he’s come just for the fight, Dallion thought.
Nobles from the northern part of the province come down here a lot to learn. As I said, a lot of disgraced nobles are sent here. And most often the reason for being disgraced wasn’t the lack of skills, but the lack of political flexibility. Many of the exiled nobles believed that it was more important to achieve the pinnacle of skill and knowledge and didn’t bother to participate in the political games of the families.
Does that include you? Dallion asked.
If the city survives past the festival, maybe you’ll find out.
Falkner was also a noble coming from the north. His father was the lord mayor of the city of Arlera, which by all accounts was considered of much higher standing than Nerosal.
“Don’t be tense,” the woman in the room told Dallion. “It makes for poor entertainment. The crowds won’t like it if a fight finishes too fast.”
“I didn’t know there was a minimum time limit,” Dallion replied, trying to make himself appear as arrogant as possible.
“There isn’t.” A vicious smile appeared on the woman’s face. “It comes naturally.”
Looking at her, Dallion felt the same way he had when joining March’s expedition for the first time. The other people in the room were experienced awakened who had gotten where they were after centuries of constant training. They weren’t from another world, so they didn’t rely on any shortcuts, nor were they chosen by a Moon. In short, they could be described as sheer monsters.
“What’s your level?” the woman asked.
“Twenties,” Dallion replied vaguely.
“So, we have a twenter in the group.” The man who’d addressed Dallion first snorted. “Lucky us. Do you know what they do to twenters moving on? They chew them up and spit them out like a ball of wax.”
Dallion didn’t have time for this. It’s all a distraction, he told himself. The insults were nothing but an annoying sting that cried for attention. The best way to do it was to ignore them, no matter the itch.
“Can’t wait to see who the lucky one will be.” The woman laughed. “One in three. I like those odds.”
“You’re from Dherma,” the noble said, speaking for the first time. Dallion could feel a thread of eagerness and joy coming from him. It wasn’t as strong as to say that he wanted to meet Dallion, but rather rang with the pleasant surprise of meeting a former classmate at the mall years later. The only problem was that Dallion hadn’t met him in his life.
“Yes,” Dallion replied, taking a neutral stance.
“My old babysitter told me about you. She said you were reckless, but with potential. As always, she was right.”
“Excuse me.” A well-dressed man walked into the room. “The event is about to start. Please make sure you are adequately prepared.”
“Can’t look bad for the crowd,” the woman said as she put on her helmet. “What are the pairings?”
“Vanessa Kies of the Triple Moon guild versus Plement Ineu of Incandescent,” the assistant said. “And Baronet Itella Lanitol versus Dallion Darude.”
It was always a possibility that Dallion would face a young and rising noble. Having it happen today, though, wasn’t his first choice.
Not the best option, Nil said. Then again, at this point, there are no easy wins.
He knows me from somewhere, Dallion said.
Don’t think about it too much. It’s not as uncommon as you might think. Nobles are bored people. When they are not rising up the ranks, they like to gossip. Someone probably mentioned it to someone at some event, and it inevitably reached him.
The explanation was plausible, but Dallion felt uneasy. There was something in the way that the noble that had spoken to him that felt off. Taking a moment, Dallion went through the realms of all his clothes, fixing what there was to fix. It wasn’t a lot of work, especially with Lux’s help, but it remained annoying.
“Vanessa and Plement first,” the organizer said.
Dallion went in line, standing next to the noble.
I can take him, no problems, Gleam said. Don’t worry about it.
If only it were that simple. The weapons Dallion’s opponent had equipped were unlike anything he had seen before. A pair of maces hung from his belt, each head of which resembled an origami. Back on Earth, one would call it an interesting fashion statement. Here, Dallion felt anxious. Neither Nil nor Gen were able to give any details on the weapon, which was weird by itself. Normally, they’d at least be able to compare it to something else.
Just follow my lead, Gleam said with a confident chuckle. It’s been a while since I’ve spread my wings in the open.
“Your old babysitter,” Dallion whispered. “How much did she say about me?”
“Hardly anything,” the noble replied. “Just that you had no limitations and were liked by the Green Moon.”
Droplets of sweat formed on Dallion’s forehead. That was too specific. He could accept the fact that the news of his lack of limitations had spread. He could even accept that someone had let it slip that he was from another world. However, no one in the real world was supposed to know his link to the Green Moon.
“Why does she think so?” Dallion asked.
“Because she belongs to the Order of the Seven Moons. Also, she saw you face off against a chainling back when you were a semi.”
MAKING ENEMIES
Dame Vesuvia was Itella’s babysitter? When Dallion had seen her for the first time, back in his village, he was in awe of her power. Among the soldiers, even the Cleric of the Order, she had the presence of a goddess sent by the archduke to destroy the monsters of the world. The power level between her and Dallion had been so vast that she couldn’t even compliment him directly. And now, Dallion was about to face someone of the family under which she had been employed. The thought sent chills down Dallion’s spine but also filled him with eagerness and determination. This was an opportunity to see how much he had improved.
Remember overconfidence, dear boy, Nil reminded. Your goal isn’t to win.
It isn’t to lose, either, Dallion said. I’ll have more time if I win.
While correct, that was an excuse and everyone knew it. Dallion was clueless regarding the other’s skills. Attempting to get information from the noble’s weapons and gear ended in failure. The most he was able to learn was through a brief conversation with the temporary walls of the arena battle grid. If the guardian in question was to be believed, Itella had a strong sense of the base four skills and nothing more. The shape and nature of his weapons indicated that he didn’t know carving—which was a relief—though gave no indication as for the other skills. Combat splitting was a given—one didn’t reach this stage of the competition without it. Special items were also a certainty, although Dallion wasn’t able to sense anything hidden.
The countess marked the start of the round. Immediately, fighters dashed forward, clashing against one another as hundreds of instances exploded throughout the arena floor. Dallion and Itella, however, didn’t budge.
“Two swords and two daggers,” the noble said. There was no music in his voice, suggesting he was merely engaging in banter.
“One dagger,” Dallion corrected. On his part, he put as much reluctance in his words as he could, using his music skill. “The other is a gift I keep along.”
“Some gift. Crystal weapons are rare in the best of circumstances.”
The sound of envy resonated through Itella’s body. It was clear that he thought the gift was unworthy of someone such as Dallion. This was more than a class difference. Dallion had the feeling that his opponent’s disappointment stemmed from the fact that Dallion didn’t know the item’s worth.
