Knives & Levels - Chapter 110

Days bled into nights in this crimson-soaked hellscape. Sarah couldn't make heads or tails of what time it was. When they took rests, it was for sleep—God only knows how long. Just enough to get them going again, to move more.

Since there wasn’t a good way to tell if it was day or night, they had to rely on their internal clocks.

All the while, she and the rest of her friends hunted. Nick was recovering, although slowly. And their pace over the land was cautious. They didn't hunt for monsters above in the wasteland, finding more success in going from cave to cave and taking things down.

It seemed most of the other monsters in this wasteland had similar ideas. Everyone knew that if you spent too long on the surface in the crimson-soaked landscape, the Yeti would find you.

Even their brief trips across the surface hunting for another cave brought shivers down Sarah’s spine.

She knew it was out there somewhere. Several times, she thought she saw its dark, large silhouette. In the blizzards that exploded into existence and winked out of them and on throughout this hellish glacier, somewhere, the Yeti lingered, searching for them, searching for anything that it could eat.

The best she could do when they surfaced was duck her head low and move quickly. Hoping Colt was out there too, doing the same.

A day turned into two. Nate was keeping track the best he could. Their plan of splitting their days before the celestial seed arrived relied on one thing: the quest status. With it so difficult to tell time, the only real way to track how long had passed was by checking their quest. The countdown was both a blessing and a curse. A slow ticking bomb until they eventually reached zero, when the celestial seed would hatch, and then they would have a different problem.

It wasn't comforting. The reminder that they had every time they went and looked and saw how much time they had left before they went down to the Academy left a pit in all of their stomachs.

Then there was the fact that, even though they were going as quickly as they could, cave to cave, trying to minimize their time overland and searching them thoroughly, it yielded unpromising results. They managed to kill about four more wolves and a couple of bunnies.

On the second day, Julia discovered the existence of smaller iced-off caves that the creatures had managed to put up to conceal themselves from the Yeti.

After breaking one down and finding some lower-level ice rabbits, they stole the fake wall technique. Anytime they needed to rest, they would put up a false ice sheet, making the cave look like it came to a natural end. The deceptive practice was hopefully working, as the Yeti hadn't tracked them down.

But the time was running short. Sarah didn't feel like she was getting strong enough. She saw Nate with his new blue flame that seemed to burn through this place and ward away the cold. Now Julia could throw around ice magic, which she called a derivative form of her water magic. 

Yet again, Sarah found herself on the back foot. Her companions were making paths forward into the future, and here she was, the same person. Always a little too slow to the draw. If the point of this place was to change them by pushing themselves… Then what was she doing?

Growing frustrated, Sarah stopped resting during their breaks and instead focused on meditation. She didn't dare break herself out into the katas and practice the physical movement she normally did when she wanted to dwell on her Edicts, as it would drain her too fast. Instead, she did as she'd seen Colt, sitting steady, exploring herself and her Edicts, searching for something to take her even further. Levels would only do so much. Skills, Edicts, power—that's what she needed here to make up the gap between her and these monsters they were facing.

As she dwelt deep within the dark cave, she began to concentrate on the sensations around her. There was a lot at play in this environment. Nate had once told her about finding actions related to his Edict and proving his focus during this training. But here, as she felt the cold leaching into her skin and stealing her strength, she felt a weird resonance.

There wasn't an edict she could point to and call out specifically that felt resonant with her... But it lay in the way that this harsh, survivalistic landscape seemed to leech and steal strength—something to it stood out.

A certain slant of reality that just made sense. Life was demanding. It constantly sapped her strength. It took fortitude to get through it. Whatever this power was that lingered in the air, whatever these cold edicts were doing to her body, it was a sensation that felt as familiar as gasping on a mat after pushing yourself too hard during a day of training. The exhaustion and sheer will needed to power through it and get back up again were important.

After feeling like she was on to something, she took the next step.

Refusing any rest from Julia at all.

Over the hours, Sarah intentionally let her body weaken further and further. Even with the draining fights from the monsters they faced.

She let her strength increase even as her body's retention of it failed. All the while, every time they would come to a stop and rest, she returned to meditation, focusing on the drained feeling inside her as it deepened further and further.  Soaking in the grasp of this place as it tried to drag her closer and closer to a withered, defeated state, to her death.

She wasn't sure what she was looking for. She wasn't even sure if she'd just gone mad, accepting that this place would weaken her and deciding to take it into her own hands and embrace the inevitable. Nonetheless, she persisted. She meditated, focused, and wondered if this was her pathway forward.

On the third day… She felt like she’d come to an epiphany. On the edge of an entirely new Edict; only, that was the day that they heard the Yeti’s wail outside of their cave. And all hell began to break loose.

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Seth had become something like a pet. He hated the way it sounded. He hated the way it felt being a person who craved freedom above all else. Even more, he hated this sensation, which wasn’t new, and that he was well and accustomed to his role as a ‘pet.’ From Denny’s perspective, he had also been a pet—a person treated as a handy mage and forced to do dirty work.

Although here, in front of this fiery Warlord and his fortress that he called a dojo, Seth's treatment as a pet took a new slant.

He was invited to important dinners, housed in a corner for the Warlord to show off, and eventually asked for details by his various officers. The whole place had a weird feel to it. The treatment he'd received since the Warlord Crimson healed him and questioned him about Nashville made him wary, but he couldn't do anything about it. He was as good as a prisoner.

No, worse than a prisoner. He was a pet.

The odd thing was that although Seth felt like he was on a leash and on display for others to see and question, he wasn't treated badly by any definition of the word. There was no abuse, no beatings, no torturing for information.

He was given food—good food, actually. Seth thought as he picked at his rice during a dinner and watched the various officers laughing with one another while they talked to the Warlord Crimson. It tasted fresh and was made with plenty of meat and vegetables, both of which melted in the mouth. There also wasn't an expectation that he do anything. The Warlord made no demands of him. He didn't even call him a prisoner, although Seth suspected that it wouldn't have gone very well if he tried to leave. 

Instead, Seth simply stayed—as a status symbol or something else, Seth couldn't quite piece it together.

After three days of being treated like this, something shifted. The meetings increased. Fighting erupted outside the dojo's walls. He heard screams and the pained cries of the wounded. Later, when the Warlord took him for a walk, he saw the damage to the walls.

Ice had contended with fires, and left on those massive red walls were bits of frost and snow.

When they returned to the Warlord’s throne, Crimson was busy. Reading reports—and later, he called his most respected officer. A man named Blaze.

Blaze entered with a respectful bow.

"The stalemate has gone on too long," Crimson said, reciprocating the bow as he took in the man. "You may rise and look at me."

The officer raised his eyes and nodded. "We've tried to break it, my lord. We've launched assaults like the one we've seen today, but just like theirs, they've been repelled easily. The way the dungeons influence the landscape makes it hard for us to contest. We're too far opposed from one another to make it work."

"And the fae? Has the status changed?” the Warlord asked.

"Going in there is still a quick recipe for losing troops," Blaze responded.

Seth rubbed at his wrist in the corner, keeping his eyes low even as the two talked. Feeling like he was in a place he didn't belong. He'd felt that way often, with the way the Warlord kept him around as his pet.

The Warlord shrugged. "It is true, and that's why I bring you here today. Like I said, the stalemate has gone on too long."

"We can't attack, my lord," the man reiterated. "Either direction is too much for us to accomplish. We don't have the resources."

As he said the words, for the first time, the Warlord’s gaze slid over to Seth. "As I'm sure you're aware, we've received an interesting guest. Who had stories for us about a civilization rising in Nashville? I want you to mount a friendly expedition, Blaze.  You're to go to this Nashville, and you're to request their aid in our war. Tell them we will be good allies, and by any means necessary, you will convince them to cooperate with us."

The man gulped as he looked at the Warlord. "Are you sure this is wise? We don’t know these people. I doubt anyone will want to get involved in an endless war—at the rate it's going, and the rate of our training, no one will advance beyond fighting each other. If this is a whole other unified civilization, who’s to say they don’t join an enemy instead?”

"To see change, you must make change, and the change here that I believe we need is additional troops. What say you, Seth? Do you think your pretty little Nashville will be able to assist us?" The Warlord waved off his officers’ concerns, still looking at Seth with eager eyes.

Seth shook his head. Denny wouldn't have. In fact, he would have gathered his people and steamrolled them himself if he thought he could get away with it. But the Warlord laughed at his gesture. With these new people? Who knew, but he doubted they wanted to dip their toes into another fight after the mess with Denny.

“So you believe. But what you told me led me to understand that this city has new leadership. And where there are new leaders, there is always a chance for change.” The Warlord said, a careless smile crossing his face.

“…I—yes… There are new leaders. Denny died. I don't know the state Nashville is in," Seth responded.

The Warlord raised a finger. "Then this is good. The state they are in is a place under transformation. There will be a new power rising in the city. And in the absence of sufficient internal force to regulate their people, it wouldn't hurt to have allies who would help them as well. We can be quite good allies, though our enemies do not know that right now. I see a potential future here." After this assertion, he turned back to Officer Blaze. "But we must reach out and inform Nashville that this is also a potential future for them. People cannot act on knowledge that they do not have. They aren't aware of us. I doubt that they know the entirety of the conflict we're engaged in, considering the ignorance of the man here," he gestured to Seth.

The Officer stood and looked between them. “You’re sure this is wise, my lord?”

“Wise? Maybe not. Prudent, sure. They still don’t understand the truth. They don't understand how these dungeons work. And for that, we can educate them. In return for their troops. You are authorized to make a trade on my behalf." He continued, tossing a porcelain vial that the officer barely caught.

“My lord!” The Officer said, looking at it in shock.

"Offer this to their leader as a gesture of goodwill. It is imperative that we make new allies. It is imperative that they come and assist us in this battle, just as it is imperative that we win this city of Atlanta. I trust that you know what to do with this mission to make it happen. Nothing is off the table." He then looked at Seth. "I also propose that you bring this one with you. I don't know how he will be received, but he can be used as a chip."

Seth paled at that, looking between them as the officer nodded. "I will see your will carried out, my lord," he said, saluting.

Seth backed away, trying to escape. He didn’t get far before the Officer chased him down in a corner of the room. "You will be accompanying me, and we will leave right now. As the Lord said, time is imperative. These allies are our directive, and I will see anything to accomplish our mission."

Seth shook his head. "You're not bringing me back there."

The Warlord frowned and looked at him. "I've given you life. Do you think that I'm willingly taking it away right now? Not likely, unless, of course, you've committed some unforgivable crime against these people, in which case, that will be an atonement you will have to make. I'm afraid that the way that karma and life work is that what you put into this world eventually comes around. I can only hope that what you gave these people is enough for good fortune." He bowed his head to his officer, who grabbed Seth by the wrist. "See this done. See it done soon. I'm eager to hear the results of your journey."

“Yes, my lord!” The officer confirmed; his grip on Seth’s wrist felt like a steel vice. Holding him in place and sealing his future.

The Warlord stood up, grabbed his sword, and then sighed. "As for me, I will go consolidate our losses and restore our fortifications. We will continue this stalemate, not giving anything away to our foes. Hopefully, soon, this cursed war can come to an end."