Die. Respawn. Repeat. 4: A LitRPG Adventure, page 11
“The dungeon is called the Sewers, if that helps,” he adds.
Ah. That does clarify things. Ahkelios mentioned unlocking and exploring a more restricted version of the Empty City called the Sewers back when he was the primary Trialgoer. I’m not sure if they’re physically linked, but Zhao must have some reason to think I might have access to it.
Ahkelios, meanwhile, is frowning at the mention of the Sewers. I make a mental note to ask him about it later.
“Contact me as soon as you can,” Zhao says. “There is much we need to catch up on.”
No kidding. The message cuts off there, and I stare at the Interface for a moment, a little tempted to reach out and call him immediately.
Alas, there are other matters I need to settle first. The matter of Soul of Trade, for instance.
She watches me as I look up from the Interface, studying me with tired eyes. It’s hard to tell exactly what she’s thinking. There’s a weary sort of hope there, coupled with an acceptance that whatever move I make next isn’t likely to involve her.
As far as I can tell, she doesn’t want to fight. All she wants is for the Trial to end, and she’s hoping that giving me this one small advantage will be enough to make a difference.
Which brings up a rather important question.
“Why didn’t you try to find me yourself?” I ask. “Especially if all you wanted to do was give this to me.”
If I’d had this even a few loops earlier…
Soul of Trade snorts at the question, then gestures to herself. The Firmament within her flickers weakly at the movement.
“As I said, I cannot be seen by my people,” she answers. “What would they think if they were to find me like this? For that matter, what would the rest of Hestia’s Trialgoers think? We’re allies of convenience at best—to show weakness would be to invite my downfall, along with that of Inveria.
“No. The best course of action was to wait until there were signs of a new Trialgoer operating within Inveria.” Soul of Trade frowns. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to just teleport here. It certainly made things easier for me, though.”
“You were basically just hoping I’d come this way.” I can’t quite keep the disbelief out of my voice.
“That’s correct.” Soul of Trade shrugs. “It wouldn’t change much if you did or didn’t arrive. The help I can offer is minimal. But…”
She hesitates. “It gives me peace of mind, I suppose,” she says. “To know that you aren’t simply blindly following their plans.”
There’s more she wants to say, I can tell. She glances at Gheraa, and there’s another admonishment on the tip of her tongue, but she chooses to swallow her words and look away at the last moment.
It finally hits me why all this bothers me so much.
It’s how defeated she is. All the Trialgoers I’ve met have some agenda or the other; Soul of Trade is no different, but she’s long since lost any interest she had in pursuing her goals. She’s willing to just wait for it to come along. It’s the same reason she didn’t try to hide the nature of her skills or push harder to establish some sort of deal with me that might negate the effects of her curse.
I could do something for her, maybe. I’m not sure. I haven’t had the chance to examine the skill construct or her core, but more likely than not there’s some sort of link there that I can interfere with.
The question is mostly whether or not I want to. I’ve just come back from watching her nearly ruin Fyran permanently—and as far as I can tell, in this timeline, she did. I don’t know what happened to the pocket of time I was just in, but it’s clear that this version of her succeeded.
But then this version of her is also suffering the consequences of that decision.
Problem is, whatever Zhao was talking about sounds urgent. I’m not sure I’m going to have the time to figure out what’s going on with her core or the skill she used. Even if I wanted to help her…
I hesitate again, but to my surprise, it’s Gheraa who makes the decision for me.
“So!” he says. He gives Soul of Trade a grin sharp enough to make her flinch, and she stares at him, her expression somewhere between wary and terrified. “Wanna make a deal?”
“Absolutely not,” she says immediately. Gheraa frowns at her.
“Why not?” he asks. “I could make all that pain go away! Well, not entirely. But it’d be better, at least.”
“You’re an Integrator,” she hisses. “Working against them or not, I can’t—I’ve already lost my life to the Integrators once.”
“Yeah, and frankly, you don’t look like you have anything else to lose,” Gheraa says. I watch him closely. Soul of Trade might not know him all that well, but I’ve spent a long time with him in a relatively confined space—I can read his body language better than she can.
He’s putting on a brave front, but there’s guilt in there. Not because he’s planning something nefarious, but because he feels responsible for what happened. If not for the glint of mischief in his eye that tells me he’s got more planned than basic self-sacrifice, I might have stopped him then and there.
That and he turns around to give me an exaggerated wink, as if to tell me he knows what he’s doing. I just raise an eyebrow. If he really wants to take this, I suppose I’ll let him.
“I can’t guarantee instant recovery,” he warns, turning back to Soul of Trade. She’s still watching him warily, but I can tell she wants this. “I know how your skill works. I’m sure as hell not giving you any power over me. What I can do is give you enough Firmament to start repairing all that damage you’ve done to your core.”
“And what do you want in return?” Soul of Trade asks. I’m surprised she’s considering it at all, given how afraid and angry she seems, but then maybe that’s the reason she’s considering it.
“Just a little favor,” Gheraa says amiably. Soul of Trade narrows her eyes.
“You will not betray this Trialgoer,” she says. “That will be one of my terms. You act in service to him, and if you contract to me, I will use the power you give me to ensure it.”
“Sure,” Gheraa says, even as I grimace and protest.
“What? No,” I say. “I don’t need one of your contracts to bind him to me.”
“It’ll be fine,” Gheraa says dismissively. “I’ll make sure it’s not anything weird.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about!”
“Ethan.” Gheraa turns to me, and for once, he’s perfectly serious. “Trust me. I know how the skill works. It will not change anything between us, and it will give her peace of mind.”
I stare at him for a long moment. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I always do,” Gheraa says dismissively. In a moment, he’s back to his grinning, more playful self. “What do you say, Soul of Trade? Shall we make a deal?”
“I want to know what favor you want first,” she says. He leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she gives him an incredulous look. “That cannot be all.”
“All I want,” Gheraa says without missing a beat. Soul of Trade grits her teeth for a moment, then waves a hand; there’s a brief pause as her Firmament flickers, a skill attempting to come to life. She has to try another two times before a gossamer-thin sheet of paper forms out of her power.
Gheraa glances over the makeshift contract and immediately suggests several corrections, which Soul of Trade begrudgingly changes with a grimace. While this is happening, I turn my attention to Guard and Ahkelios. Gheraa knows what he’s doing.
Probably.
He’d better know what he’s doing.
For now, I need to get Guard caught up on the situation so we can decide what to do next. He’s been quiet since our little diversion to Inveria, and I have my suspicions as to why.
“I got a message from Zhao,” I tell him, and then I quickly detail what I know about him—how we first spoke to one another, then his request for help and the apparent situation developing within the Empty City.
Other human Trialgoers from the current cycle, trapped within the Sewers. Guard’s processors whir as he takes in this information, and I see the hesitation in him. “I…”
“There’s something else you need to do,” I say. Guard doesn’t respond for a moment but then gives me a slow nod.
“I do not know the specifics yet,” he says. He looks over at Soul of Trade and Gheraa, who are now arguing animatedly over the details of the contract. To my surprise, I can see the life flowing back into her even as she speaks. I guess she lives for this kind of stuff. “Would you mind if we spoke about this outside?”
“Not at all,” I say. “Ahkelios, mind keeping an eye on those two?”
Ahkelios opens his mouth to protest, then changes his mind and nods. “Can do,” he says.
Guard and I make the trip to a more isolated part of the cavern. It’s a long moment before he speaks again, and when he does, his voice is heavy with… something. Loss, maybe, except he doesn’t know what it is he’s lost.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen this from him. It’s rare, but I’ve seen it from time to time ever since his phase shift.’
“Something is missing,” he says. “Something important and dear to me. But I do not know what it is. I have sent my proxies to search for clues, but…”
“You can’t command them while you’re in a dungeon with me,” I say. He nods, slow and reluctant. Hesitant.
“I do not wish to leave,” he says. “And it will not be permanent. But now that I know that something is missing, I do not know if I can wait. Even if Aris were willing to command my proxies in my absence, I would spend my time wondering what she has found. It would be a distraction, and that may make me a liability.”
It’s clear that saying the words hurts him. He’s conflicted—he wants to follow me, wants to help, but something within him is calling him elsewhere. I can see a Thread of Purpose coiled around him, leading him back toward Isthanok.
“I don’t think of people that way,” I say. “But I can see how important this is to you, Guard. You should go. Find out what you can.”
I’m conflicted too, in truth. The words are practically on my lips. We’ll do this first. The humans in the Sewers are strangers, and Guard is a friend; the decision to help him first would be easy, except…
Except that lives may be at stake, and there’s a much simpler solution, even if neither of us is happy with it.
“You have my help whenever you need it,” I say. “We share a bond. All you need to do is ask for help, and I’ll be there.”
Guard’s shoulders abruptly slump with relief, and a certain tension drains out of him. “Likewise.”
I smile at him. “One way or another, we’ll fight together again. Find what you need to and come back, yeah?”
“I will do my best to be quick.” Guard offers me a smile in return, in the peculiar way he does it. Then he hesitates, seeming to think of something. “Can I…”
“Yes?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I would like to keep the Void Inspiration with me,” Guard says. “Just for the moment. I enjoy its company.”
“You’ve basically adopted it,” I say with a small laugh. “You’re welcome to. I haven’t been as kind to it as I would have liked.”
I may as well say a small goodbye, though. It takes a small effort of will to gather a modicum of Firmament and send it through my bond with Guard; to my surprise, it takes some effort to push it through, like it’s a little more than I expected. Guard shudders a bit at the sensation.
“That is strange,” he grunts.
“Now you know how I feel,” I say, laughing. “It’s just a snack for the road. You know, so it doesn’t forget about me.”
“I am sure it will not.” Guard seems amused by the thought. He gives me a somber look a moment later, though, and reaches out with a hand to clasp my shoulder. “Thank you, Ethan, for your companionship. I will make my way back to Isthanok once we take our leave. Whisper may have the answers I seek, and I have a few ideas as to where she might have gone.”
“Let me know if you need help,” I say. I’m pretty sure that Thread of Purpose would lead directly to her, but Guard seems to have a good idea of where he’s going already. He knows her well, after all. “And be careful, would you?”
“You as well.” Guard says the words with the utmost severity. I can’t help but chuckle. We make our way back into the building, where Ahkelios gives me a thumbs-up.
“Nothing weird happened!” he reports cheerfully.
Before long, Gheraa finishes whatever deal he’s making—I cast him a suspicious look, and he rewards me with an award-winning innocent whistling if I’ve ever heard one—and we take our leave.
With all the tunnels sealed shut, the best way to leave is through a Phaseslip back to the surface. I wonder for a moment if Soul of Trade was trapped in there, but I doubt it. There was a skill she had that allowed her to merge with the walls of Inveria.
Once we’re at the surface, we find… nothing, which comes as a bit of a surprise. I had expected a small settlement, at least. Instead, it’s an empty plain. I suppose the entrances to the tunnels are far from the center.
“I will be taking my leave,” Guard says to the other two, much to their surprise and dismay. They calm down once he’s given them an explanation of why he needs to leave, and Ahkelios gives him a quick hug.
“You better stay safe,” Ahkelios says. Gheraa makes a noise of agreement.
Guard only chuckles. He offers both Ahkelios and Gheraa a quick word, saving me for last. When he reaches me, he gives me a small bow. “I look forward to seeing you again, brightspark.”
Before I can ask him what that means, he engages his thrusters and blasts back in the direction of Isthanok. I cast a quizzical gaze at Gheraa and Ahkelios both, but both of them just shrug at me, and I sigh. Of all the times for the Interface to choose not to translate something…
But I have bigger things on my mind, for now. I reach out to the Interface, staring at the list of Trialgoers that I can finally, finally talk to.
Time to give Zhao a call.
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 15 — COLLISIONS
Zhao picks up almost immediately, to my surprise. It’s almost like he was waiting for the call. “Ethan!” he says, full of excitement. “You are alive!”
“I should hope so,” I say, laughing at the enthusiasm. “I found a way to get around my Trial’s restrictions. You should be able to contact me freely now.”
“That is good news!” Zhao says. “It has been such a long time since we were able to speak! Or at least, it feels like it has. I suppose not much time has passed on Earth. These Trials make it difficult to keep track of time.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I say dryly. “My Trial is a time loop.”
“Oh.” I can practically hear the way Zhao’s eyes widen. “That sounds… I am not sure how that sounds.”
“It’s tiring, and let’s leave it at that,” I say with a chuckle. “I’d love to catch up, but the message you left me sounded pretty important. What’s the situation?”
“Ah.” Zhao’s enthusiasm fades away for something a little more somber. “Yes. It is rare for a dungeon to take more than a day or two for completion. Anything longer usually indicates that something is wrong. Three of us went into a dungeon known as the Sewers recently, and they have not returned in four days now.”
I frown in thought. “The Sewers should take longer than most dungeons to complete, from what I know,” I say. “There must be a reason you think something went wrong.”
“Yes,” Zhao says. “We were able to speak with those in the dungeon at first, but two days ago, they became unavailable on the Interface. We do not know why. But Adeya said that your name was mentioned, so I thought to contact you.” He hesitates. “There is much we should catch up on.”
“No kidding,” I say. One detail of what he said stands out to me. “What do you mean, my name was mentioned?”
“It is difficult to explain.” Zhao takes a moment to consider his words. “There are… people in the dungeon. That in itself is unusual. They mentioned your name.”
I blink. “The scirix?”
“Yes!” Zhao sounds relieved. “Yes, that was what they were called. They said you helped them. Adeya also mentioned something about there being some kind of Ritual? She said something about prerequisites.”
The words make me stiffen. “Just to be clear, you’re saying the Interface asked her to complete a Ritual stage?”
“Yes!” Zhao nods emphatically enough that I can hear the wobble in his voice. “You know what that is?”
“It’s probably the source of all our problems,” I mutter. “Okay. So she’s doing a Ritual stage, which means she probably got caught up in the Empty City’s Ritual. That’s why the dungeons are linked and why the scirix remember me.”
“I do not understand,” Zhao says. “You say this like it is a bad thing.”
“It might be,” I say. “Ritual blowbacks can be dangerous for everyone in the Trials. That’s what happens if you complete a stage but fail a prerequisite. The Integrators don’t want us completing them.”
“When you say it is dangerous,” Zhao says carefully. “You mean—”
“—that it can kill people who aren’t involved in the dungeon, yes.” My voice is grim. I need to get into the dungeon as quickly as possible. If the humans in there don’t already know about Ritual stages and their consequences, there’s a good chance they’ll end up causing a blowback. I don’t know what that will look like, and I don’t want to.
“That is…” Zhao sounds a lot more concerned, all of a sudden. Not that he didn’t already.
“Yep.” I’m already pulling up the Interface. “I should check on them. Is there anything else that’s urgent before I go? Information about the Trials or the Integrators?”
