ROTLE- Chapter 182- An Outcome To Become

Forests were always a dreary endeavor. They were often dark and murky and unknown things were always hiding around every corner. Perhaps murky was not necessarily the word, but it didn’t change the fact that the forest always had a dreary tone to it.

Aiden stared up at the sky or at least the canopy of leaves above. He could make out a little bit of the sky, enough to know that it was morning now. But ever dreary, as if with a reputation to keep, the forest remained dark. Not so dark that he couldn’t see. Just dark enough that you would not know that it was morning unless you were checking for it.

Taking a look at the trees around, he allowed himself to breathe, to slow down. His mad chase for Ted and the others hadn’t gotten him any closer to them. Maybe it was time to take a breather, to re-strategize.

Go for Nosrath, he thought.

Or for whatever group had claimed Nosrath, if any had. Knees drawn up to his chest in a seated position, he gave the world around a forlorn look. In his past life he had lived. He had experienced a lot, survived a lot more, then died at the hands of two of the most powerful beings known on Nastild.

He looked to his side, down at the girl lying unconscious in the grass. Just a few hours ago she had been flying around the in the sky, trying to survive him. That she had survived the fall was nothing but a stroke of luck as far as he was concerned.

As for how she had been flying around when only [Mage]s and specific classes had that ability, he had answered it with one glance at her shoes. They were made from the skin of a [Naruvian bird] with touches of shamanic enchantments stitched into them.

She had harnessed the sky walking ability of the creatures to achieve that feat. As for how she had survived the fall, he attributed that to the defensive nature of her dark grey gambison.

She was weak, he thought to himself.

With her spear of red lightning and whatever skill she used to fire those arrows that exploded into spikes, she had every right to be a bigger threat. He remembered when she had called her spear back to her, hoping to impale him with it. All he had done was step aside for it to pass him by and she had looked at him as if he had performed some impossible feat of magic.

He looked at his hands. For the first time in a while he wasn’t paying attention to the blackened arm. He looked at both hands as one.

Level one hundred, he thought. Just how powerful have I become?

In the back of his mind he could still feel the beacon that was Spell Binder. It was stuck somewhere, waiting for him.

It was an odd feeling. In his past life he’d always had an idea of where it was, but it was the way a person always had an idea of where their phone was because they always had a general idea of where they’d dropped it.

Versed in multiple weapons, he didn’t necessarily need Spell Binder. He could always replace it with some other great sword, or he could continue working with longswords. Hell, he could switch to an axe or a halberd for all he cared.

Zen from the Order would say that he only wanted Spell Binder back for sentimental reasons and that there was nothing wrong with that. Aiden knew that sentiment was one of the reasons, but that was not all that there was to it.

Spell Binder was a unique weapon. When he’d found it, it had been nothing but a greatsword. The smith of the Order had joked about how it looked like a spearhead too, if the wielder was twelve feet tall, were his words.

Together they had beaten a proper hilt into it and buffed off whatever they could, doing their best to fashion it into a proper weapon.

Spell Binder, he thought. After the finishing touches to the weapon, the Order’s smith had finally showed him its name.

It hadn’t taken Aiden much thought to figure out why it had that name. When they had been smithing, he had added enchantments upon enchantments. Every enchantment stuck. A sharpness enchantment so that it would rarely need a whetstone. An endurance enchantment so that it would not break under the weight of a stronger weapon or over time. A fire enchantment so that it could blaze on activation. A…

Aiden smiled just thinking about the crafting process. He had been to the smithy a few times but that had been the first time he had been crafting for himself and himself alone.

So many enchantments…

And the weapon did not max out on its enchantments. It had been a first for Aiden. Interestingly enough, when he had informed the head of the Order, the man had not seemed surprised. The same man who had told him that there was no item on Nastild that could handle more than ten enchantments.

Spell Binder took thirteen before I got tired, he chuckled. Then it could also take any amount of temporary enchantments as well as attract spells cast to itself without being damaged.

No, getting Spell Binder back was not just a sentimental decision, it was a tactical one as well.

A random item in a dragon’s hoard. He could still remember the look on the master’s face when he had said it. There had been some regret then, as if he was sad. Aiden had taken it as a sadness born from not being able to leave the Order for the raid. After all, it had been part of the master’s life’s work to raid the dragon's hoard. But now that he thought about it, the sadness had only been born after he had placed a hand on the item.

“Lord Lacheart.”

Estabel’s voice pulled him from his revelry. Aiden knew that he missed having Spell Binder but he hadn’t thought it this much. He had grown attached to it, switching out his favored use of a longsword to a greatsword. An instructor of the Order, his pride had pushed him until he had perfected the use of the weapon.

With a sigh, he looked up at Estabel. “[Mage].”

“You have been gone a while.” She stopped to look down at the unconscious body of the woman he’d fought. “Is she still alive?”

Aiden looked down at the woman’s chest. It rose and fell slowly. “Still alive.”

“Can’t say the same for her counterpart.” Tanor stepped out from between a few trees with Yerit in tow.

Yerit looked like she was a new employee in a company with poor work-life balance. She had red eyes and bags under her eyes. She needed a proper sleep.

“She had a partner?” he asked for clarification.

Estabel nodded. “A weak one. We dealt with her too easily, then went off to find out what we were chasing.” She paused, then shrugged. “I figured you would be fine if her partner was so weak.”

I was.

At no point in the entire fight had Aiden felt in danger. It had been a while since he’d felt so powerful level-wise. His raw power outweighed hers significantly.

He looked up at Estabel with a raised brow. “You were so sure?”

“Oh, please.” Estabel rolled her eyes. “You killed a [Saint].”

Aiden watched the woman lying on the ground stiffen. It was slight, the slightest thing, but he noticed it. It seemed like she was awake. The pretend sleep was interesting. It made him smile a little.

“You’re in a good mood.” Estabel folded her arms, her staff standing on its own beside her. “I see you’re no longer in a rush.”

Aiden looked away from her. His eyes settled to the east, the direction Ted was in. He was no longer in a rush. He had thought about it during the fight. It was funny how fighting the weak gave him time to think.

He got up from the ground and dusted his clothes. He wouldn’t say that he was in a good mood, but he was in an interesting mood. For one, he was just realizing that there was no reason for him to hold back again. He could level up as much as he wanted.

A small smile crossed his lips. To the east Ted and Valdan still lived according to his enchantment that was tracking them. To the other cardinal points was nothing but a forest filled with animals and people.

And he had a [Mage] with him, a [Mage] who knew what she was doing. It was arguably the perfect opportunity. Leveling up would be relatively easy to do.

With that in mind, he turned to Estabel. “What about the path we were chasing? We heard scuffles.”

“People,” Tanor answered with a shrug.

Aiden gave him a look, motivating him to continue. When Tanor didn’t, he asked, “And what happened to these people?”

“They were dead when we got there,” Yerit said.

Aiden looked at her. “How?”

“Bite marks, claw marks.” Estabel shrugged. “Sword marks. A fight they didn’t survive.”

Aiden’s lips pressed into a frown. “Any ideas what killed them?”

“Nope.” Estabel didn’t seem the least bit worried by their deaths and the lack of a culprit.

Taking a deep breath, Aiden turned away, still fully aware of the fact that the woman who had attacked him was awake. He was still a little glad that the fall hadn’t killed her. Tripling Nastild’s gravitational pull on her had made her descend so fast that he might as well have been doing nothing but standing.

Her endurance had to be high for her to have survived. The interface hadn’t even given him a notification of having dealt her a fatal or critical blow.

I wonder how she’ll feel to learn that her friend is dead.

“We should leave,” Aiden said. “We have ground to cover and an [Illusory Serpent] that has our scent.”

Yerit and Tanor exchanged a look. It was Tanor that spoke. “What’s an [Illusory Serpent].”

“Something the dead [Saint] and I ran into when we were in the forest.” She sounded too pleased when referring to Clerent as dead, as if she was more than happy that a [Saint] was dead. “It will surprise you all to know that Lord Lacheart here was the one that saved us.”

Tanor shook his head. “Not really.” He gave Aiden a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry but I did see you kill a [Saint]. You didn’t look like you broke a sweat. And [Saint]s are strong.”

While Aiden heard what the man was saying, he was also hearing something else. He should not have killed a [Saint] when there were witnesses. Now he had to worry about who would say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“Don’t worry about it,” Estabel said suddenly, reading his expression to Aiden’s dismay. “Yerit knows to seal her lips. Since she’s on official Mage Radiant business, she is to say nothing about it to the outside world.”

Yerit seemed to shrink in on herself in fear.

“Besides,” Estabel continued. “Even if she tells people in the Mage Radiants, I’m sure all it will do is make you friends. We are not fond of the church and its clergy.”

“And I have no interest in telling people that I know someone that killed a [Saint].” Tanor shrugged noncommittally. “In the circles I run in that will get me in the types of trouble that I don’t like.”

Estabel gave him a knowing look. “And what circles are those, Mr. Alphonset?”

“Circles where Mage Radiant connections are not very welcome.”

“Oh. Certainly can’t be heretics.” She paused, turned thoughtful. “The pantaloons.”

Tanor’s expression turned offended. Aiden actually cracked a smile. The pantaloons were a group of circus folks who were constantly failing to accomplish anything. Oddly enough, they had wandering troupers all over the continent. When the war broke out and both sides of Nastild became one once more, they spread into that side too.

“I will have you know that I am not a clown.” Tanor shook his head in disappointment. “Anyway, it’s just a nice circle.”

The wandering paladins. Aiden knew of them. During their time in the Order the wandering paladins had been a good source of information when they had to deal with things regarding the church or heretics. What they were was a group of people who believed that the purity of the church, like all working systems, was being corrupted by centralization of power brought about by the nature of human flaws.

That reminded him. A few select handful of members of the group were protecting one of the hero relics.

The staff of god, if I remember correctly.

There was nothing out of the world about the staff, if truth was being told. It was definitely not of any of the gods. It was just a staff that exponentially increased mana as well as spell affinity. What made it stand out specifically was that if you met the mana requirement to use it, even someone without the [Mana mastery] skill could cast spells.

Many a night he had pondered on what he would do if he had it. At some point he had even petitioned getting his hand on it. The master of the Order had been more than happy to turn down his request. Why? Because, in the man’s words, Aiden was just fine as an [Enchanter].

“Why would you want to be more than what you are?” the master had asked jovially.

It had been something of a let down, but Aiden knew that he had been grasping at the wind with the request. The Order didn’t need the staff and it certainly didn’t need an [Enchanter] playing at being a [Mage]. Weapons became crutches when valued too much the Order liked to say.

Now that everyone had agreed and given reasons why he had no reason to worry about news of him killing a [Saint] flying around, he turned his attention to the last person.

“And you?” he asked, knowing very well that she was paying attention to the conversation.

Tanor gave him a confused look. “She’s conscious?”

Aiden nodded. “And she’ll either give me a convincing answer or I can’t allow her leave this forest alive.”

“Are you sure she speaks the language?” Tanor mused. “She strikes me as someone from far south. They have their own language all the over there. Which brings me to the question of why they would even attack us to begin with.”

All eyes settled on Aiden.

He looked at them. “What?”

“I think we are in agreement that you are the most likely reason,” Estabel said. “Anything you want to share with the team?”

“No.” Aiden placed his foot on the woman’s neck and her hand snapped out to grab it in an attempt to throw him off.

Aiden took his foot off before she could succeed. He certainly outclassed her in speed. Free, the woman rolled away from where she was. she came up to her feet very quickly, creating space between her and the rest of them.

Everyone waited, watched. Estabel and Tanor had touches of amusement on their faces. Yerit was cautious and alert.

Aiden folded his arms over his chest.

“So?” he said, knowing her by name.

Telma paused. There was a touch of confusion before understanding. “And if I will?” she asked.

It was bold of her to ask the question. Perhaps she thought the distance between them was enough to save her. It was sad.

Making a show of studying the distance she had put between herself and them, he looked to the ground, then from her to them. Done, he cocked a brow at her.

“Really?” he asked.

Telma studied the distance, increasing it with a careful step back. Aiden wasn’t bothered.

“Do you have some item in storage that I don’t know about?” he muttered, unbothered.

Estabel gave him a curious look, then it turned knowing, then disappointing. “Lord Lacheart.”

There was a tone of scolding in her voice. Aiden didn’t hold it against her. It was understandable.

“I can leave before you know it,” Telma said. “I’m that fast.”

Estabel groaned. Aiden sighed. Tanor shook his head.

“If you have to brag about your speed to someone you lost to,” Tanor told her, “then you are really not that fast. In fact, now I think Lord Lacheart can get to you before you cross two steps.”

Telma hesitated.

“Sweet child,” Estabel said.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Tanor said.

“If she weren’t a sweet child, maybe she would be able to think two thoughts at the same time and maybe they will work together and make a spark. Doesn’t even have to be a fireball, really.” She sighed.

“I don’t get it.”

She shook her head. “No. She’s just not questioning enough, not calculating. She looks like a child who does not yet know the wicked ways of our world.”

Telma’s face tightened in annoyance.

Throughout, Aiden kept his eyes on her.

“Still don’t get it,” Tanor repeated.

To give Tanor a hint, Aiden held out his hand and summoned the spear Telma had been fighting him with from his storage space and let it fall to the ground.

“My spear,” Telma snarled.

“If you face an enemy,” Estabel said, explaining, “and your intention is to kill them, yet you succeed in nothing but failure, passing out while they are still awake, you must assume that they have taken every secret on your person that they are capable of taking.”

Tanor frowned. Aiden saw his brain working, putting pieces together. His eyes widened in horror moments before Yerit’s, and he turned on Aiden in dismay.

“You didn’t,” he accused.

Estabel was the one who answered, nodding. “It is discourteous and rude. Some would even argue that it is without honor.”

Aiden agreed. “It is.”

“And yet you did it, Lord Lacheart.”

He shrugged. “I never admitted to being a man with honor.”

“That much is fair.”

Telma frowned. “What else have you taken from me?” she snarled.

“Perhaps some more.” Aiden took a step forward and she inched backwards. “Perhaps your name, Telma.” She stiffened even though he took another step forward. “Perhaps your class, [Battle Archer].”

“Oh,” Estabel cooed at that. “A very interesting class that one.”

Telma’s jaw dropped. Tanor’s horror reflected on her face, but it was deeper here, more personal. She had been stripped naked, violated by the very act.

She spat in the ground. “Abomination!”

Aiden couldn’t be bothered.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” she challenged. “You should’ve killed me. You should’ve let me die with honor.”

“Honor,” Aiden muttered. It had been a while since someone had used the word to justify stupidity. “What do you know of honor?”

The moment the question was out of his mouth, he realized that the wrong use of the word did not bother him. Not as much as it had in the Naranoff manor.

“It seems her people are steeped in honorable deaths, Lord Lacheart,” Estabel pointed out.

Aiden shook his head. He felt the strands of his hair against his cheeks as he did. His hair was overgrown. “A lot of tribes find honor in death in combat. It does not mean that their deaths are honorable.” He looked at Telma. “Killing a warrior in their sleep does not give them an honorable death. Killing an unconscious warrior is basically the same. If you want someone to blame, blame yourself for not being awake to witness your own death.”

Telma warred with his words. He saw when defiance won that war over logic. She blinked then, flushed, then started to say something, but Aiden chuckled and shook his head.

“If you still want to die, I can make it happen,” he said. “Give me an unfavorable answer or try to run. I’ll be sure to kill you.”

Tanor stepped up to him. “Lord Lacheart,” he whispered.

Aiden stopped him with a raised hand. “What say you, Telma of Mba-chukwu?”

Telma’s jaw tightened. She had a decision to make.

And Aiden had an outcome to become.