Hunger: A LitRPG Adventure (Unbound Book 3), page 25
Splash. Slosh. Splash.
Footsteps. Someone's coming. Pit looked at him and shook his illusory fur, sending water around them in a spray. Felix nodded.
Convergence!
Abyssal Skein!
Pit disappeared in a flash of light, once again merging with Felix as he pulled on the Void. The oily sensation slid over his skin, sending an uncontrollable shiver of distaste down his spine. Shaking that off, he began climbing the face of the nearest tenement. It was easy, the blocks of stone and wood that comprised the old building having many handholds. He climbed nearly to the top, easily four stories up, when there was a distant scuffing from above.
Felix froze, angling his head just slightly to see. He was clinging between two windows, only twenty feet away from the rooftop and freedom. After nearly ten seconds, a figure emerged from the opposite roof, one dressed in thin leather armor and a tin medallion.
It was the thin Guilder from before. Leif was his name. The teen leaned cautiously over the edge of the roof and looked down. Leif's eyes passed right over Felix and fixed on the ground instead.
"Pathless forfend..." Leif whispered.
Curious, Felix watched as the new Guilder clambered down the tenement and began poking around. Splashing echoed down an alley, and soon he was joined by four others, all of them cloaked and bearing those sashes. Four with green, one with blue.
The lead was Aric, a square-jawed Human male, handsome in that way someone became after their First Formation. He wore what appeared to be a common combination in the Guild, leather armor with metal accents along the arms and chest. A set of swords hung at his waist, one short and one long.
Behind him was Deema, the darker-skinned girl bearing a sword and staff. She and one other wore robes, but under Deema's he caught a hint of chainmail. The other robe-wearer was named Oona, and she was clearly a Naiad, her ochre skin stark against the dreary gray of the alley. She also held a staff, though hers was thinner and the top third was covered in a dense script. The last one was Kelvin, the neckbeard kid with too many muscles. He was wearing the usual leather armor, though with noticeably more plate pieces. He also had an axe and large shield in hand.
Classic adventuring party makeup. Scout, fighters, support mages. Iron Rank to lead, Tin to follow. They started moving toward the bodies, Aric with purpose and the others trailing behind.
They said earlier they were looking for evidence of an attack, one that happened last night. Is that when the sigils were made? Felix rubbed his chin as the Guilders investigated the enforcer bodies. A few of them were impaled on icy spears, but most were covered in electrical burns and many, many cuts. Pit chirped aggressively in his mind. Yes, thank you for that, buddy.
Abyssal Skein is level 12!
Felix started at the increase. Two young Hobgoblin children were at a window nearby, one that had been shattered by the exploding fireball. They looked scared, but curious as they stared down at the Guilders below. They didn't seem to notice Felix at all, despite him being inches away from them.
Abyssal Skein is level 13!
Slight movements from the buildings around the "courtyard" drew his eye. More people were pressing cautiously against their windows, most having been damaged by Mehren's attack. Most were Hobgoblins, Goblins, and Orcs, though he saw one or two Dwarves. They all looked afraid.
Afraid of who, though? Had they seen the fight? Seen him?
"Come away, children. Come away," someone out of sight said.
"But Mama! There's Guilders down there," the girl complained. Her brother pouted and pushed closer to the window.
"I wan see gidders!" The boy yelled excitedly.
"You know they're dangerous, Behva. They can't be trusted!"
"Mama," the girl started with a whine in her voice, but her brother squealed.
"Red! Red!"
Felix turned and looked down, and sure enough, three people in bright red cloaks stomped into the area.
Inquisitors.
"Come away. Now." The fear was far more clear in her voice now like a vibrating wire taut with unspoken tension. The children drew back.
Felix glanced up. The roof was close, but he was unsure if Abyssal Skein was up to the task. The chances of the Initiate or Iron Rank having a strong observational Skill were...Felix had no idea. Greater than zero, at least. Now that his rage had fled him, caution dictated he stay still.
Curiosity told him to listen.
"You," the Initiate snarled. His red cloak swirled around him as they stomped into the alley. "Leave. This has become Inquisition business."
"Hold on there, redcloak." The Iron Rank held up his hands. His name was Aric Vetne, according to Felix's Eye, and the man took a couple steps toward the Initiate with his hands still raised. "The Guild has Charter in this town, and that means we investigate it when our citizens get murdered."
The Initiate laughed. Felix Eyed him, noting his level of 34 and well beyond his First Formation. "Your Charter is meaningless. As I told you before, the Inquisition has your Guild by the balls. You either do what I say, or your Elders will have your neck. So please, do fight back."
Even from an aerial view, Felix could read the sour expression on Aric's face. He looked at his Tin Ranks, arrayed behind him in an inverted 'V', with Kelvin and his shield in the front.
Flaring his Manasight, he could see wisps of their auras, multicolored and shot through with the green-gold threads of life Mana. Every single person down there, the living at least, surged with a riot of emotions. Felix could almost taste the stubborn frustration and smug superiority as if it were all intermingled with their Mana.
Manasight is level 41!
Huh. Really? The revelation distracted him enough that he almost missed what came next.
"...you think happened here? Just tell me that, and we'll go," Aric was saying.
Nel the Initiate smirked toward the two Acolytes behind him before sighing dramatically. "Very well, adventurer. I think something very, very dangerous happened here. Something found these poor souls and tore their life from them. Savagely."
"This looks like everyday murder to me," Aric protested.
"How often do you see seven Humans slaughtered like this?"
"Fair enough. Still, looks like a gang fight."
The Initiate pointed, not to the bodies nearby that had Frost Spears sticking from them, or the charred remnants of Mehren, but to an empty patch of water. Exactly where Claude had knelt...before Felix ate him.
"Sorcery has been done here," Nel intoned. The rain pounded down, and thunder shook the sky. "Its song is unmistakable."
Song?
"Captain!"
Aric turned and saw Deema pointing at the far wall.
They found the Elf. In the gloom and rising water, they had likely almost missed it.
"Trackless protect us," an Acolyte whispered, loud enough that Felix could hear it over the rain.
"Sorcery,” the Initiate gasped. “Vile. This is ours now, Guilder. Begone."
Aric clenched his fists, hesitating for a long moment. Felix almost thought he was going to start a fight, but he held himself back. The Iron Rank gestured something in handspeak to his team, and they all trudged away.
"Be seeing you, Nel." Aric's voice was flat and low. Angry.
"Mhm," the Initiate said, a sharp smile on his face. "Soon, I'm sure."
“I’ll be letting the Elders know of this,” Aric promised.
“Then what are you waiting for, Guilder?” The Initiate made a negligent shooing motion with his hand. “Your tower is that way.”
Felix could practically hear the man grind his teeth, but instead of attacking, he spun on a heel and stomped off into the muck.
The Initiate snorted derisively. “Weak and without conviction.”
The Initiate ordered his two Acolytes to look at the other bodies, and he strode purposefully toward the mangled Elven corpse. Felix couldn't quite see his face from this angle, but his body language screamed his distaste. Gloved hands waved above the corpse, trailing faint wisps of colorless Mana. Unattributed Mana. Almost but not quite the same as the rainbow trails left by the beasts in the Void. Unlike what Felix assumed was a waste byproduct of the Narhallow, this felt purposeful, packed with a honed intent.
A sudden spike of harmonious chords rose through the air, punching into Felix's senses. He was so surprised he nearly lost his grip on the ledge, and only Pit's anxious trilling kept him aware enough to hold fast.
What in the—
Below, shimmers played about the corpse, until a green, transparent form rose up from where it laid. It was humanoid, and if Felix's Perception wasn't fooling him, looked exactly like the dead Elf, except more or less in one piece.
A ghost? Ghosts are real?
The apparition stood and began stepping forward carefully, cautiously. It moved in a strange, jerky manner, and it wasn't until it jumped side to side that Felix realized he was looking at a recording of sorts. And it was playing backward.
The Initiate stood aside, letting the ghost Elf move where it would. The Acolytes didn't react, however, not even when the thing passed directly through their spaces. Either this was the most normal thing ever for them, or they couldn't sense it at all.
Felix was betting on the latter.
It was increasingly clear the ghost was battling someone or something. Faint, luminescent marks on its body were wounds. They were severe at first, but slowly they disappeared in groups of three or four. Claw marks, clearly. The ghost moved all over the small space of the crooked alley, navigating the terrain with an enviable Agility until finally it ended its journey at the mouth of the far pathway. There it slowed to a stop and turned, as if calmly regarding someone. Then it stopped, shimmering again as if on pause.
The Initiate grunted, his face sweating. He made two small gestures, just shapes with his fingers, but it was as if he were lifting a boulder. Veins in his neck stuck out like cables, and his limbs shook. Then a dirge, slow and sad, cut through the air. The ghost began to move again. Forward this time.
Do not be afraid. The ghost spoke, and its voice was immediate as if Felix were hearing it with his mind alone. I won't hurt you. You can—blind gods, what have they done to you? What—no! No!
With a ragged gasp, the Initiate fell to his knees, and the ghost disappeared.
"Sir, are you—?"
"I am fine, Acolyte. Do your duty." The Initiate snapped at his underling who quickly went back to searching the dead enforcers.
Felix licked his lips and swallowed, but his mouth and throat were parched. He knew he couldn't stay here any longer, no matter how much he wanted to investigate exactly what this guy could do. He had already refreshed Abyssal Skein twice during his wait, and he was feeling the drain on his mind. Now that the Initiate was clearly distracted by his recovery, he slowly climbed up the remaining twenty feet and over the edge of the roof. Moments later, he was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Felix hurried through the rain away from the Initiate. A knot clenched his insides.
He had transformed again. Against his will. Again. After the close call just an hour earlier, he thought he'd be up for it, his impressive Willpower able to fight it off. But this time it had come upon him without warning.
Almost. Felix frowned as he vaulted over another alleyway. It was far easier to navigate the complicated warrens of the Dust from up there. There was that anger again. It crept up on me the moment I saw those damn sigils.
Felix paused atop another tenement, leaning against a large water barrel. The thing was full and spilling over in small rivulets along the sides as the rain kept coming down. It had been the sigils. They had crawled into his head, same as when he'd read the Archon's notes under the mountain. They were insidious, and somehow, in some way, they were connected to the Maw. He knew it, though he couldn't say where the knowledge originated. He still had his journal and the Archon's papers tucked safely in the satchel at his side. Some deep part of Felix had warned against looking too deeply at the sigils, and he'd been proven right this morning.
The sigils are clearly similar to the Archon's. Different characters, absolutely, but in the same alphabet or whatever. Felix's brain hurt to dwell on them, the crawling sensation of a trapped heartbeat returning even through his memories. He set the recollection aside for now. Plenty of time to review it when he spoke with Atar later that day.
He started moving again, using Relentless Charge to clear a particularly large gap between buildings. He couldn't sense anyone below, but held Abyssal Skein regardless. His body took to the task nearly effortlessly, landing with soft knees and continuing to run. His mind, however, dwelled on what he had seen.
The Inquisition had used some sort of Skill to raise the dead. Or a spirit projection, at least. Felix assumed it was a Skill, but the presence of that music… somehow, the Initiate tapped into the Grand Harmony and was able to replay the victim's last moments.
Could I learn to do that? How do you even tap into those chords? Felix sensed the music when the System took action; level ups, stat allocation, that sort of thing. He even heard it when Atar, Evie, and Vess all Revealed their Omens. Distinct compositions for each of them. However, all this time, it had been reactive.
Could he change that?
Moreover, what did it mean that the Inquisition was using an ability like that? Was it a special power they learned, a Skill granted by their allegiance? Questions swirled in Felix's brain, but he had no answers. Not yet.
By the time he landed with a splash on the streets below, Felix had amassed a simple list of objectives going forward.
Figure out the Grand Harmony thing
Avoid becoming a monster
Train, train, train
Admittedly, it was a simple list, but it teemed with uncertainties. At the end of the day, what he needed to do was get stronger. Power, on the Continent at least, was the only solution people seemed to take seriously.
Trendle answered the door this time, letting Felix in without blinking. The big man simply locked the door behind him and walked off, twitching his extremely impressive mustache.
Put a dang walrus to shame, Felix thought with a smile. He was impressed.
Shouting soon caught his attention, and Felix realized that Atar had arrived earlier than expected. Felix released Convergence, and Pit appeared next to him in his Dire Wolf disguise. He wasn't even wet.
"Wish I could ride around dry and cozy while you do all the grunt work," Felix murmured through a grin. He ruffled Pit's head as the tenku let out an oddly birdlike woof.
"You brought me all the way out here for this?" Atar was saying. His voice carried well, and Felix didn't need to see the teen fire mage to find him. Beyond the back area, Atar was standing with Cal, Harn, and Evie. He slashed his palm through the air. "I can't do it. It's impossible."
"We need to get into that Domain, V'as," Cal explained calmly, though her eyes were hard. "My people need to get stronger, and we need money to get out of this nowhere town. You helped us before."
"That was then; this is now. And you're not alone in that thinking, which is why I think the Elders have restricted access. With the redcloaks blocking the gates, and the monsters breaching the Wall, everyone is scrambling to get stronger." Atar paced, hands on his hips and blonde hair expertly coiffed. "But, even if the Guild wasn't, the Master Inquisitor has decided to reinforce our guards, putting his own people on the Domain entrance as well. At this point, I doubt anyone can get through, not unless you're prepared to fight your way in… and out again."
"What if we're disguised?" Felix interrupted, nodded at everyone. "Good morning, everyone."
"Hey Felix." Evie smiled, reaching out to ruffle Pit's head. She'd really taken to the little pig. "Thought you had errands this morning."
"I did. The bookshop's been closed for days. No one has seen Zara since before the attack." Felix looked at the other three. "You heard anything about that?"
Cal frowned and Harn shook his head. Atar perked up. "The bookseller? At the Elder Crown?"
"That's the one. Where I saw you and your friends."
"Ah." Atar seemed...embarrassed? That's weird. "I haven't been back since you… since that night. I can ask around, if you'd like?"
Taken aback slightly, Felix shrugged. "Sure, I guess. That'd be helpful. Thanks, Atar. Oh!" Felix fished out the enchanted mace he'd looted from Mehren. "You can make use of this, right?"
Harn tipped his head back—his stoic way of being surprised—and took the weapon from Felix. "We can, yeah. Oh, nice enchantment on this one. Rank II is hard to come by out here."
Oh really? Felix thought about his boots and satchel, both with Rank II enchantments. Pit's Stone of Wild Echoes had a Rank IV enchantment on it, and Felix's Amulet of Veiling had a Rank XI working. If Caerwin made those items, as he suspected, then… Just how powerful is she?
"So, disguises?" Felix asked again.
"Disguises ain't all that effective against Silver Rank senses. And that's who you'll be up against, if Sparky is right." Harn hefted the mace over his shoulder, the object trailing a few sparks.
"Of course I'm right, Harn. And yes, Silver Rank Guilders will see right through a disguise, unless you have an Adept Tier illusion or transformation Skill?" Atar shrugged when Felix shook his head. "Then it won't work."
Illusions, huh? Felix looked down and met Pit's eyes, the thrum of a shared idea between them. "I might have a plan for that but… give me a few days."
"Like I said before, we can wait a bit. Just the sooner we're flush, the better." Cal took a deep breath and scratched her jaw. She looked tired, dead on her feet almost, and Felix wondered how much was on her shoulders right now. "The Guild's cut us off, the Inquisition is breathin' down our necks, and now our only avenue to fund our way out is being closed. We need a win."
"We'll get it, Callie." Evie said, eyes burning with a ferocity Felix hadn't seen since the Foglands. "No matter what."
