Death: Genesis 2: An Isekai LitRPG, page 3
It had also been a stark reminder that she wasn’t strong enough. When she’d taken the job with Julio, Abby had considered herself a capable adventurer. Sure, there were plenty of people out there that were much more powerful than her, but she was confident that she could hold her own against most people. And failing that, she trusted her ability to at least escape. Meeting Zeke had put the lie to that false assumption.
If he wanted to, he could utterly destroy her. She knew that for the truth even if he didn’t. Up against him, she felt powerless. Certainly, she could help. Without her contributions, they never would’ve downed the drachnid queen. But she had no illusions about who’d really carried the weight of that fight.
And he was only going to get stronger.
Maybe he’d eventually bite off more than he could chew, but Zeke wasn’t the type to engage in half measures. He’d proven that when she’d found him slaughtering an entire society of harpies when they’d first met, and he had reaffirmed it when he had insisted upon clearing out the drachnids. Part of it was because he wanted to push the limits to see if he could get better rewards—a gamble that had paid off for both of them—but most of his reasoning was tied up in his sense of morality. The drachnids had raided dozens of caravans, killing hundreds of people. For Zeke, letting that go just wasn’t an option. They were a dangerous nuisance, and one whose existence he simply couldn’t allow. The rewards, whether it was experience or loot, were secondary. Distantly so. Doing the right thing was his driving force.
It was such an alien concept, in the old world or the new. There were people who would help others, especially in the heat of the moment. But for people to choose that route, time and time again? To put themselves at risk, even without the guarantee of a reward? That was rare.
“Maybe I’m just a cynic,” Abby muttered to herself. Given her past, that certainly fit.
“What was that?” asked Zeke, his fingers casually massaging the side of Pudge’s neck. The bear cub curled up close to him, looking almost like a loyal puppy. If said puppy was pushing 150 pounds.
“Nothing,” she answered, watching the landscape go by. They’d left Bastion behind a couple of hours before, and in that time, they’d passed the last vestiges of the jungle and entered a savannah. Dotting the grasslands were horned herd animals, plenty of predators, and a few tribes of goblins. There were even elephants. Most left the various carts, wagons, and caravans alone, having long since learned their lessons.
But that didn’t mean they were safe, which was why, even as she delved deeply into her thoughts, Abby’s eyes never stopped moving. She might not be as powerful as Zeke, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of keeping a vigilant eye on her surroundings.
Zeke didn’t respond, instead running his hand along his close-cut scalp. He’d been doing that ever since he’d gotten his haircut the day before. He’d kept his beard, though—a good decision, if Abby thought so herself. Without it, he’d look even younger than he actually was. Plus, she’d always liked a man with a good beard.
Not that she was interested in Zeke. No. She wasn’t. He was half her age. Sure, she looked like she was in her early twenties, but that didn’t change her actual age. However, despite knowing those things, there was a little piece of her that couldn’t help but wonder what would be so wrong about it. He was handsome enough, with broad shoulders and an earnest cast to his features. And she had grown to trust him, which counted for even more than his looks.
“So,” he said, breaking the silence and reminding Abby that she’d been staring at him. “What’s Beacon like?”
“Huge,” she said. “I don’t know how many people live there, but it’s got to be more than a million. Maybe two or three times that many.”
“That many?”
She nodded. “It’s the biggest city on this island,” she said. “Sanctuary is about half its size. There are a few other towns—mostly way stations and the like—throughout the island, but people mostly live in Beacon or Sanctuary.”
“Why?” he asked. “Bastion seemed safe enough.”
“Sure,” she said. “Bastion’s fine, but that’s because it’s so close to Beacon.”
Zeke’s brow furrowed. “Why does that matter?” he asked.
“Oh, right—you wouldn’t know,” she said. “Beacon is covered by a warding enchantment that’s so powerful that it extends almost a hundred miles outside of the city. It gets weaker the farther it gets, but even as far as Bastion, it’s still strong enough to make it extremely uncomfortable for any monsters—especially the more powerful ones. Sanctuary has a weaker version of the same enchantment, but with it being on the coast, most of it is channeled into the ocean to keep the sea monsters away.”
“Where did it come from?”
“The enchantment? We don’t know,” she explained. “It’s been there for as long as anyone can remember. Even before Lady Constance took over.” “You’ve mentioned her before,” Zeke said. “Who is she? Some kind of queen?”
Abby shook her head. “No,” she answered. “She’s kind of in charge. She’s the head priestess of the Temple of the Sun Goddess, and she’s one of the Chosen. But you’d know all about that.”
“The what?”
“The Chosen,” Abby said. “You know, people who’ve been chosen as representatives of the gods. Like you.”
“Sorry, but I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” Zeke said, obviously confused. They’d talked about it before, but only in passing. Clearly, he had forgotten the conversation. “Or . . . wait. Are you talking about Oberon? He’s not a god. He’s just a . . . kind of like a middle manager. Or that’s what he said.”
Abby responded, “That’s not the story Lady Constance gave. She says that before she was reborn, she was visited by the Sun Goddess, Shar Maelaine, who gave her an impossible trial. When she overcame it, she got the Sun Goddess’s blessing.”
“Sounds like my troll caves,” Zeke muttered. “Maybe she was confused.”
“She doesn’t seem confused,” Abby said. “The entire Temple of the Sun Goddess—and to a lesser extent, Beacon itself—is built on it. It’s one of the reasons she’s practically worshipped in the city. That, and the fact that she’s incredibly strong. When her husband died, she burned down an entire forest. And I’m not saying she just set a forest fire and let it burn, either. It was burned to ashes in the space of a few minutes, and most of it’s still burning today. That was almost ten years ago.”
“Damn,” Zeke said. “That’s a strong skill.”
“Strong skill? That’s apocalyptic, Zeke!” Abby exclaimed. “She’s basically a demigod.”
“Guess we’ll just try not to get on her bad side, then,” he said, shrugging. “What about the rest of Beacon? Is it controlled by this Temple of the Sun Goddess?”
For a long moment, Abby just stared at him. Normal people didn’t respond to word of a demigod with a shrug. Did he not understand just how powerful Lady Constance was? Even without her massive political might, which was enough to stomp just about anyone into submission, her personal power was off the charts.
“Hello? You still there?” Zeke asked, waving his hand in front of her face.
“Oh,” she said, shaking her head. “Sorry. Yeah, the Temple of the Sun Goddess rules Beacon, but there are a couple of other powerful factions. The Church of Purity’s probably the second most powerful, but that’s mostly because nobody wants to piss off the healers. Then there are a few guilds, like the Champions of Light, that hold significant power. But the ones you really need to look out for are the Blue Cloaks.”
Zeke raised a questioning eyebrow.
Abby went on, “They’re a guild called the Azure Warriors, and they think of themselves as the cream of the crop. They’re not really wrong, either. They won’t even take membership applications from anyone who hasn’t evolved their race.”
“And let me guess, they’re a bunch of dicks,” Zeke said.
Abby nodded, saying, “Most people just avoid them, which is fairly easy, considering they hardly ever come down from the fifth tier.”
“Fifth tier?” Zeke asked.
“Beacon’s built kind of like a wedding cake,” she explained. “The biggest portion is the bottom layer; it’s mostly shops, artisans, residences, and a few guild halls. Next up is the higher-class areas—you know, the fancy stores and such. With how much money you have, you’ll probably want to go there if you want to get some decent equipment. Next up is the guild tier—you know, where most of the decent guilds have their halls. When you become an inner member of the Champions of Light, you’ll get housing there, too.”
“And if I don’t?”
“There are other options on the first tier,” she said. “Anyway, after the guild tier, there’s the Church of Purity. It takes up that entire area.”
“And they’re healers, you said?”
“Yeah,” Abby responded. “Then, there’s the Azure Warriors, followed by the gardens, and then the Temple of the Sun Goddess. Seven tiers, if you don’t count the outskirts—and most people don’t. Surrounding the city is farmland—we’ll start seeing fields before the end of the day, probably.”
Zeke shook his head, saying, “Sounds complicated.”
Abby shrugged. “You get used to it,” she said. “So long as you keep your head down, you’ll be fine.”
To that, Zeke grinned. “I’m not really all that good at keeping my head down,” he said.
She snorted. “Of course you’re not. Just don’t insult anyone wearing a blue cloak. Or if they have a sunburst emblem on their tabard. So long as you avoid that, you’ll be okay.”
Zeke shrugged, saying, “I’ll do my best.”
With that, they went silent, and the day muddled on. After the sun had passed its zenith, they found themselves rolling past the farms and ranches most distant from the city. So far out, the mana was wild enough to influence the growth of both plants and animals; even as the crops grew to mind-boggling sizes, so too did the livestock. Out there, it wasn’t uncommon to see cattle the size of rhinoceroses, or pigs pushing a thousand pounds. However, with that growth came a much more aggressive nature, which meant that farming and ranching required stronger-than-average people.
Through it all, Zeke stared at the landscape, amazed by the sights. When they were fighting in the wilderness, it had been easy to forget just how new to everything he really was. But now? It was obvious. And Abby found it endearing.
Finally, just before the sun began to set, Reginald, the trader, announced that they’d be stopping for the night. By rote, he took a series of posts from his cart and began placing them in a large circle around the wagon.
“What’s he doing?” Zeke asked.
“Warding flags,” Abby said. “They’re pretty weak, and they won’t keep anything over level ten out, but they’re fine for this area.”
After that, Abby offered to use her skill [Makeshift Camp] to provide further protection from the wilderness, and before long, they’d created a cozy camp. It wasn’t as comfortable as the cottage, especially with the new amenities with which they’d furnished it, but they both thought it best if they kept that ability to themselves unless absolutely necessary.
Through it all, Pudge lay in the cart, watching them with lazy disinterest.
4
GOBLINS
The next morning, the party rose with the sun. Eager to get going, they went about their morning ablutions quickly, and soon, they were on the road. As the morning wore on, the road wound its way into a dense forest of pine trees and oaks. In Bastion, Zeke had acquired a full parcel of travel rations, which consisted of jerky, dried fruits, and incredibly dense bread. With little else to do in the back of the cart, Zeke started eating.
“I always used to think I liked jerky,” he said, tearing off a piece of the dried meat with his teeth. “I don’t anymore.”
Abby rolled her eyes. “You’ve been eating rations for a single day, and you’re already complaining about it? Toughen up a little,” she responded. “I remember my first real mission for the guild. It lasted for almost a month, and we were in the Firelands, so everything there tasted like sulfur. We were on travel rations the whole time, and not the good ones, either. Like, think of meat that’s barely more than shoe leather, and you’ve got an idea what it was like. Oh god—and that hardtack? Like chewing a brick, even when we soaked it with water.”
“Sounds fun,” Zeke muttered, swallowing his jerky. “What was the mission?”
“Rescue,” she said. “We were hired by this guy who raised salamanders. And not the kind you know from Earth, either. These things are basically crocodile-sized mini-dragons that breathe fire. Anyway, somebody stole one of the matriarchs and some eggs, and we were hired to get it back. We got the adult, but the thieves sold the eggs.”
“So . . . you were, like, a pet detective or something?” Zeke asked, the corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile.
“Shut up,” she growled, though she couldn’t keep a slight grin from her own face. “It was my first job. It was horrible, too. There’s a reason nobody goes to the Firelands. Geysers of magma, poisonous reptiles, and these giant flaming cockroach things that will literally eat you alive.”
“I hope you were at least paid well.”
“Not really,” she admitted. “There’s a good reason a bunch of newbies got that mission.”
“Whatever,” Zeke said. “Won’t be an issue for me going forward, what with the cottage and my storage. Time doesn’t move in that cellar.”
“Really? How do you know for sure?”
Zeke ran his hand over his short hair, saying, “I might’ve left some fish in there for a few months. It was just as fresh as ever. I even ate some of it to check it out, and it was fine.”
“Do you have any idea how nasty that would’ve been if that hadn’t been the case? It would’ve stunk up the whole house!”
“Yeah, no—I know,” Zeke replied. “But it didn’t, right? No harm, no foul.”
“You say that, but—”
“What is that?” came Reginald’s voice from the front of the wagon.
Immediately, Zeke climbed to the front and followed Reginald’s pointed finger. In the distance, there was a thin ribbon of black smoke rising into the air. Abby, who’d climbed up beside him, said, “There’s nothing around here but fields and forests. There shouldn’t be smoke.”
“Want to check it out?” Zeke asked.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” said Reginald. “The road curves right into it.”
Without any more hesitation or discussion, Zeke vaulted off the cart and took off at a run. Where there was smoke, there was fire—and in the new world, that meant there was probably trouble. Certainly, it was possible that someone was just getting a late start and hadn’t put their campfire out, but given everything Zeke knew about traders, which admittedly wasn’t that much, he didn’t think that was likely. Much like farmers, ranchers, and other laborers, they were an early-rising bunch.
“Wait up!”
Zeke slowed his pace so Abby could keep up. When she drew even with him, he asked, “What do you think?”
“Trouble,” she said.
“Me, too.”
The conversation lapsed as their strides quickly ate up the distance. The combination of their preternatural strength and stamina gave them plenty of endurance, and after a mile, neither was even winded. What’s more, Zeke felt certain that he could push himself much, much harder. Even before being reborn, he’d been a good runner, but now, his pace far exceeded even that of an Olympic distance runner. It was a heady feeling, knowing just how far he’d gone past human limitations.
And his journey had only barely begun. He’d been in the new world for the better part of three years, but he hadn’t even reached level twenty-five, which was the peak of his current plane. What would it feel like when he did? Future skills aside, Zeke was more than a little excited about his physical potential.
Idly, he noticed that Pudge was trailing along behind them; he couldn’t quite keep up, but he was moving far more quickly—and for longer—than any bear had a right to move. Another couple of levels, and the bear cub’s stats would catch up to Abby’s, but how long would it be before he could stand toe to toe with Zeke? It was a frightening thought, especially given how effective of a fighter Pudge could be, even with the handicap of his low level. It was easy to imagine the cub growing into a truly fearsome monster.
“It’s just around this bend,” Abby said, slowing down and keeping her voice low. “You hear anything?”
“Just Pudge,” Zeke said, glancing back at the bear cub’s ambling gait. He was only forty yards back, and he was closing very quickly, so Zeke mentally told him to stay back. The bear was a lot of things—powerful, strong, and, of course, adorable—but he was definitely not stealthy. Pudge drew to a stop and gave a huff, but he obeyed.
Just until you catch your breath, buddy, Zeke sent through the bond. Abby and Zeke crept forward along the road, hugging the tree line.
The woods were dense enough that they couldn’t see much around the bend, so they decided to be extremely cautious as they inspected the origin of the smoke. As they came closer to the corner, Zeke could hear the crackle of live flames.
“Definitely a fire,” he whispered, crouching low. “Sounds like more than one.”
Abby looked at him a little curiously, then responded, “How do you know?”
“My senses are really sharp,” Zeke answered; one of the side effects of evolving his race was enhanced senses. At the time, he’d focused on only his improved night vision, but since then, he’d come to take the strength of his senses for granted. Not only could he see much better than before, with far sharper clarity, but he could also smell, hear, and even feel things he’d never experienced back on Earth. In the caves, he hadn’t had the luxury of focusing on it, and by the time he escaped, he’d long since grown accustomed to it. Most of the time, he didn’t even think about the breadth of his sensory input anymore.
“Of course they are,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Anything else?”
