Hunger: A LitRPG Adventure (Unbound Book 3), page 28
As the nobility and Guild members slowly filed out of the cathedral, Vess kept her eyes peeled. Much as she cherished her own faith, she would not have submitted herself to the judging gazes of the peerage for small reason. She had a plan.
Shuffling forward, she eyed everyone she could, trying to keep track of the Elders in the press of perfumed flesh. After a few steps, she could make out the Master Inquisitor, Khorun Katan. He stood near the Elders, situated at the front of the cathedral like herself, and she caught a flash of his hard eyes as one of the Elders said something to him.
He is like a bared blade, a naked threat of the Hierophant's involvement in town. Why? What was the point in coming here? That was something Vess had struggled to understand, but seemed tied to everything else. The official answer was that the Inquisition was on the hunt for Sorcery, but that was their general reason for doing anything. Sorcery was never found, not that she had ever heard. Something else brought the Inquisition here. Was it something so simple as the Fogland's strange, stronger monsters?
She moved forward again, keeping that lingering knot of Guild Elders in view.
Vess' training under her many tutors taught her that the wise and powerful often acted on multiple agendas at once, hiding their true intentions behind masks and feints. An efficiency of action, they had called it, though Vess found it dizzying more than anything else. Subterfuge was a skill she had been forced to learn early on, but never one that she enjoyed. Trust, as a result, was not something she handed out easily. She had interacted with the Master Inquisitor once before, and he'd been perfectly civil and courteous. But there was definitely power inside him. An iron fist masked by the thinnest of velvet gloves.
The High Laws of the Pathless so prized by His priesthood was revered by all the branches of His church. However, each branch had a specialty. The priesthood focused on Order, the Paladins focused on Strength, and the Inquisition focused on Purity.
The altered Foglands and sudden strange strength of its monsters was concerning, Vess could not debate that. There was something going on there that was likely a threat to this city, but it was a new one, barely a few weeks old when the Inquisition first arrived in town. That was not time enough to reach the ears of even the nearest branch in Pax'Vrell.
Unless it is something that has been happening for far longer. She realized. Something that has only recently come to light… but perhaps had been long suspected...
Unbidden, Elder Teine's voice rang through her mind. "The survivors will not be found..."
She had given that snippet of conversation much thought since the Hand had rescued her from discovery. Though she could take no further action while Darius watched her like a hawk, she still had small stretches of free time. And servants loved to gossip.
She knew the "survivors" were those who came back from the Foglands; the Guilders who were part of the original operation to lay claim to the dangerous territory. In her time since they'd retrieved Magda's body, she'd learned that around ten of the remaining thirty-seven Guilders did not survive. "Lingering wounds" and "persistent Status Conditions" had kept the healers from effecting a full recovery. Vess vaguely remembered the mass service held for them by the Guild, but that was during her convalescence. They had been moved immediately after the Inquisition's arrival, much to her dismay. If they had waited only a few glasses, she wouldn't be hunting any longer.
There, she thought with an internal smile. By the pillar.
Elders Teine and DuFont were set aside from the others, and they appeared to be having a rather intense conversation based on their body language. Casting her Perception forward, she tried to hear their words, but was too far away. If only I had another script-cipher!
The priest was meeting with a line of nobles, a common event at the end of a service. While the Pathless forbade formal guidance, the priesthood were considered learned and wise. Vess stepped into that queue, inching forward and closer to the Elders. The line was glacially slow, and all the while she worried that the Hand would pull her away. Luckily, even Darius Reed had a limit, and he satisfied himself with standing watch near the cathedral entrance. No doubt to ensure she didn't try to slip out unseen.
Vess frowned at him, and he gave her the smallest smirk. She quickly turned away again. No need to give the man satisfaction of knowing he was right, though it was only a minor element of her plan.
What felt like an entire glass later, but was closer to a fifth of that, Vess was near enough that she could hear their conversation if she strained herself.
"...developments. I wish to be involved in the endeavor," Elder DuFont was saying, her smooth face belied by intense eyes boring into the relatively placid gaze of Elder Teine. "You know I can provide you some much-needed assistance in your… acquisition efforts."
Teine smiled, a small thing that tilted his silver goatee to the side. "I am grateful for your interest and generosity, Elder DuFont, but the project is quite self-sustaining at this point. And besides, are you not entirely too busy with all of this fabulous trade from the Foglands?"
DuFont gave him a look that could melt steel, and might have, if what Vess had heard of her were true. "Our friends have stopped all that. Come now, Uldred. Surely your project could use some aid. The rumors among the Council alone have—"
"Rumors are whispers that dare not declare, DuFont. Watch your tongue, or—" He blinked in surprise and half-turned. "Your Grace, how are you this fine evening?"
At the last minute the queue had moved quickly. Vess would have rather listened more to their conversation, especially as it grew heated, but instead she smiled and stepped forward. She made sure to share it equally between the two of them. "Good evening, Elders. I am in splendid condition, actually. I never found the time to thank you and all the other Elders of the Guild for allowing me to use the Inner Ward. It is a remarkable training facility."
Elder Teine inclined his head while DuFont laughed prettily. "I would hope so, your Grace. Only the finest of materials were used in its construction, and it has nurtured many Silver Ranks in its time. Based on the improvements I sense from you, those resources are not wasted at all."
"Indeed, you are a shining example of the talent our Guild needs to foster more often," Teine grinned. "If only all new recruits were as gifted as you."
Vess waved away the praise with a laugh. "You are doing terrible things for my ego, Elders. In fact, I have found myself at a bit of an impasse in training. I am looking for some more bite to push myself. Were I allowed, I would love to enter the Foglands again and test myself anew."
"You have not heard, then," DuFont said with a clipped tone. Her manner melted into unctuous apology. "I am sorry to say that the Inquisition would no longer allow such a thing, let alone the Duke."
"What has the Inquisition to do with any of it?" she asked, head tilted at the right angle to convey naive curiosity, rather than the annoyance she felt. "I have heard that they are offering a Writ of Passage to those that would travel beyond the Haargate."
"The Writ is offered no longer, not after the attack," Elder Teine interjected. He seemed amused. "The Haargate has been closed, especially to a Tin Rank under specific orders to remain in the city. Orders handed to us by your father, if I recall."
Vess felt her smile sour at the mention of her father, but she pressed on. "And I understand that. Truly I do. Going against my Father's specific orders… I would not wish that on anyone." She lingered a moment there, letting them marinate in the truth of her position. "So, I have instead come to ask to help with your hunt for this murderer in Haarwatch. The Butcher, I believe the locals are calling him."
Teine and DuFont exchanged a strange look, and Vess felt a thrill of excitement as she continued. "I had overheard a few Guilders just today claiming this Butcher had murdered yet another unfortunate soul. This time in the Dust Quarter."
"Which Guilders did you hear this from?" DuFont asked, her eyebrow quirked.
Vess simply shrugged with a single shoulder. "A couple Tin Ranks, though I did not get their names." She wasn't about to admit that her sources came from the servants, lest they cut off her access in some way. "Were they right? Was there another murder?"
"The hunt for the so-called 'Butcher' is ongoing, your Grace, and we are not at leave to discuss it. In fact, it has grown more complicated, as the Inquisition has put their hands on the reins as well." Elder Teine shrugged his narrow shoulders, emphasizing his immaculate white and silver robes. "At this point, I am not even sure I could involve you. That is, providing young Master Reed would allow it."
Teine's eyes flicked back toward the cathedral's exit, but Vess didn't follow his gaze. By now, the place had mostly emptied, so she knew it would just invite the Hand to come closer. She didn't have much time.
"Tch. I truly wished to be out among the people again," Vess sighed, perhaps a touch dramatically. She would have killed for a true Acting Skill. "Ever since the breach, I have lamented the fact that I have been stuck training atop the Eyrie when I could be protecting Haarwatch's people."
Vess made to leave, but pressed her hand against her chest and turned back. This was it. The move. "What about the Domain, then? It should have plenty of challenges for my level and Temper."
And it would be the perfect excuse to leave the Eyrie on a consistent basis. Darius would have no reason to impede my departures, and I could meet up once again with Harn, Evie, and Atar.
"The Domain has been temporarily closed to all, your Grace," Teine's face was once again apologetic, nearly perfectly so. He bowed his head in sorrow.
"Closed?" That caught her by surprise. "How? Why?"
"Any good Domain must be maintained. While normally we could manage this in stages, the disrepair had gotten out of hand during the last few months. Until the sigaldry around the perimeter is repaired, none may enter."
"When shall that be?" Vess found a whine in her voice that she didn't have to fake. This was not going well.
"It is a delicate process, your Grace," explained Elder Teine. "We are making the attempt but expect it to last the next few months."
"Months?" Vess goggled, no longer acting.
"It is a delicate process, repairing a Domain. Had we not been so distracted by the changes in the Foglands, perhaps it could have been avoided."
"Blast and bother," she cursed, then blushed. "Pardon my tongue, but I was looking forward to varying up my routines."
"Think nothing of it, your Grace," Elder Teine bowed, then glanced behind her again. "If you'll excuse me, we are expected elsewhere. As, I imagine, are you."
"I will think on what we can do for you, your Grace," promised DuFont before walking after Teine.
Vess followed them with her eyes and saw Darius Reed striding toward her, his face as stern as always. Before he could reach her, she huffed and swept past him with a swirl of her skirts. "Let us leave, Darius. I am thinking a nice repose in the parlor is called for."
"...Very well, Lady Dayne."
She would meet with that servant boy again that afternoon. If she couldn't get out of the Eyrie, she could do with a few more script-ciphers.
Without missing a beat, the Hand turned and followed after.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"Best thing to do before sundering is to build up any Skills ye might have that are similar." Rory paced in front of Felix, his heavy arms akimbo. "The only problem with your situation is that ye probably don't have enough Skills to fold in. In that case, we can load you up with a few nice alternatives, then train ‘em. Sound good?"
Felix nodded. He'd shown him the broken Skills, but he wasn't about to reveal his full Skill list to Rory, nice guy or not.
Over the next hour, Rory detailed Guilder Skill basics. Typically, a new Tin Rank recruit was expected to learn at least two passive Physical Enhancement Skills, one active Combat Skill, one Mental Enhancement Skill (typically an informational type Skill like Herbalism or Analyze), and sometimes one or more Mana Skills, if their Titles extended in that direction.
"Don't your recruits have Skills already, though?" Felix asked.
"O' course! If they're useful, we lean into ‘em. If not, they're abandoned. Can't be learnin' too many Skills, or else you'll end up unbalanced." Rory took a drag from a pipe he'd procured somewhere. After letting out a cloud of smoke, he sighed. "A lotta young idiots get it in their heads to play the hero."
Felix kept his face as neutral as possible before swiftly listing the Skills he had that fit into Rory's framework.
"Good. Ye've covered most of the basics. Surprised that ye got so many Resistance Skills, those're notoriously hard to get," Rory gave Felix an appraising look. "Makes sense that Pain Resistance is on your list. Ye'd need it."
Felix cursed inwardly. Perhaps telling him about those wasn't the best play, but three of his broken Skills were resistances. It made sense if he somehow combined them with his others. He'd already admitted to being trained in several martial Skills by Harn, so that cat was well and out of the bag, too.
"We can build up your Resistances, I think, if you're up for it. The weapon mastery Skills ye have can be pushed toward Martial Mastery, which is what our more talented recruits achieve, though not normally before Iron Rank. Ye'll be ahead of the curve there." Rory grinned, excited at the prospect. "Your broken Acrobatics is a toughie, but we'll build up your Running and Swimming Skills to push on that one. Intimidation, however, stumps me. I'll have to think on that."
"Why's Intimidation any different?" Felix asked.
"Well, it ain't reactive, not in the way passives are. Intimidation is an applied Skill, one you need to leverage. So trainin' it is...it can be tricky."
"I see." Felix thought o the all the times he'd managed to level the Skill. Each time was an attempt at scaring off monsters with brutal violence or even blatant lies. So, if he were to increase its level, then he'd have to do some more threatening. Great.
"So. Shall we get started?"
For the first few hours, Rory had Felix exercise with a few of the others. The movements pushed him to his limits, earning a significant amount of Skill levels. But that wasn't the end of it. The Dwarf said he wanted to get a baseline reading on Felix's general abilities.
He was also not allowed to run the Gauntlet. Not yet.
"It'll crush ye, lad," the Dwarf insisted. "Ye're barely level twenty..."
Right. The Veiling. It was obscuring his capabilities, though the how still escaped him. It seemed to present a different set of information to everyone, yet no one had noticed the discrepancy. Was that part of it, too? A sort of...forgetfulness aura? He had many questions for Caerwin. But that meeting was days off, and the training was now.
Much like his morning water runs, Felix was forced to carry thick wooden beams while doing laps around the Gauntlet. At first this was manageable, if a strain, as the beam was very dense in addition to being fairly unwieldy. Keeping balance of the ten-foot-long object was more of a concern. But every five laps, Rory changed it up by adding either more weight or telling Felix to increase his speed. By the end of the first hour, Felix was burning through his Stamina prodigiously and doing sprint intervals around the warehouse.
It was torture. His heart hammered, and his skin was covered in sweat. His muscles ached with a terrible intensity, while the shoulder the beam lay upon became so numb it felt like it was going to fall off. Felix's Stamina regeneration was impressive by this point, but maintaining Meditation while he ran was an insurmountable task at first. All of his regeneration took a sizable hit.
Breathe. In through the nose, out of the mouth. A circle. A cycle. In and out.
In.
Out.
Felix pushed himself harder than he had in a long time. Though it wasn't the same as fighting for his life against monsters, his body was being stressed in new and terrible ways. The beam went from hefty to impossibly weighty as he ran on, his arms screaming while his legs were pillars of electric lava. Pain crackled through his hips and spine, setting his flesh on fire where it wasn't numbed by the beam's compression.
He didn't stop.
And the notifications poured down like rain.
Pain Resistance is level 43!
Pain Resistance is level 44!
Physical Conditioning is level 25!
Congratulations! You Have Reached Apprentice Tier in Physical Conditioning!
You Gain:
+10 STR
+10 END
+10 VIT
Physical Conditioning is level 26!
Meditation is level 35!
Meditation is level 36!
In fact, as the hours ground down, Felix felt himself… not reveling in the exertion and pain, but appreciating it almost. His Body was powerful—he'd known that for a while—but he hadn't recognized his new limits, not even when he was fighting the Void pirates. He was running headlong into them now.
A mad laugh often slithered through his defenses while he worked, sending fissures of pain through his chest. Each time, Felix had to clamp down hard on his Bastion of Will. He had to train his Mind as well, and the Maw was an… eager participant. Every time his defenses slackened, it was there, testing the edges of its prison.
Bastion of Will is level 45!
Deep Mind is level 38!
Pain Resistance is level 45!
Through the haze of pain, Felix worried about what the Maw could do. He had to admit, however, that it was perfect for practicing constant vigilance. And, despite his growth, his bloodline progression hadn't changed by a single percentage.
"That's enough!"
After four hours, Rory called it. Felix collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted. While he'd learned to flare his Meditation occasionally while running, Felix still had trouble activating it the entire time. His Stamina was in the red and had been for a long time. He didn't even bother to sit up and simply laid down on the floor and tried to reign in his jerky, erratic breathing.
