Knives & Levels - Chapter 81

Nate snapped his fist into the last of the soldiers’ faces—after the glow had left them minutes ago, the fight seemed to go out of them, too. At first, despite having superior numbers, his side had struggled to maintain the fight. Retreating, relying on traps, transforming the chaos of the battlefield into a more hit-and-run scenario.

Even with Colt yanking Denny out of the fight, these people fought stronger than they should have, the golden crowns on their chests drawing out latent potential and making both magic and attacks stronger. Those with Edicts had more weight to them, too.

But then, in the middle of the fighting, they stopped as if having something yanked from them. A minute later, the golden crowns had disappeared, leaving them weaker than before.

After that, with the superior numbers and better tactics, it was inevitable that they would win.

Nate stared at the body of the soldier. He’d left this one unconscious, hopefully shying from lethal blows where he could. After they’d lost their golden ‘borrowed’ power, their morale plummeted and their firepower vanished, making it less risky to opt for this more subdued attack.

Sure, they were partly to blame for following Denny, but he didn’t think they were quite as culpable for a death sentence as others.

“You alright, Harry?” Nate called out in the mall as the fighting came to an end.

“Yeah! Me and Pa are alright,” came from above, somewhere on one of the balconies.

“Can you please come down here? I need some help.” Nate using his projected ‘giving orders’ voice he’d trained on.

There was a shout of agreement from somewhere up on the balcony, and he nodded, taking in a deep breath. Harry would be down, and he could hand off some important tasks. Meanwhile, his next check was on the different groups—waiting for them to call out and get a stock of the losses; all the while, he moved to his priorities, checking the state of his allies.

Julia was fine. She balled herself away in a water barrier under a barrage of magic attacks and survived the encounter. Sarah was currently lying next to Nick. She was the next one he went to—putting a hand to her neck, making sure there was still a pulse. Unconscious but stable.

Good.

As the battle came to an end and Harry arrived, Nate took natural charge of the situation, directing the least wounded to collect their wounded and begin to treat them. Then, they would secure any survivors of the enemies, disarm them, and bind them—setting aside the wounded to also treat them the best they could before binding them as well.

Once he’d secured the plans and given Harry the directives of carrying them out in his absence—the lad had turned out to have a knack for such things—Nate went through the broken mall door that Denny had busted in.

He followed the way out, his eyes keen. They tracked the ground and saw gouges in the concrete from where Denny had tried to slow Colt’s tackle.

Broken trees casually shattered in a burst of movement and struggle.

More than enough of a trail for someone like Nate to follow, moving as quickly as he could with his wounded body, courtesy of the arrows and other blows received in the skirmish.

It was inevitable then that he arrived on the battlefield.

“Oh, Colt,” Nate muttered, slowly plodding over to the pair of bodies, one of which had been split in the middle from the stomach upward. The sight of something like that made even his stomach churn a little—but the one that rammed through his heart was his friend. Sliced to shreds, skin split, and blood everywhere on his body.

They needed Jimmy, clearly; but the healer was still tucked somewhere away in that city.

Looking at the corpse of Denny, he shook his head… And then leaned down and stole the black hat, putting it on his own, then picked Colt up and threw him over his shoulder. They would patch what they could, and sooner than he’d liked, they’d have to confront the question that Colt had been ignoring in favor of this quest to free the city from the dictator:

“What next…”

###

The next few hours were critical. All of their wounds were patched, and Harry sent out contacts to all the groups that Nate had bargained with with the news of their victory. A simple truth of humanity was that people wanted to side with the victor. Few wanted to take the risks of doing so, which he’d known all along, had calculated for.

As Colt sat by, once more nursed to consciousness by wrapping his wounds and the minor healing abilities they had access to, he felt present enough to at least think, and to watch.

The previous battlefield of the mall had slowly begun filling with more and more people—gathered by the news of Denny’s death, and emboldened by the call to action; they would march on the city, deliver personally the news of Denny’s death, and beggar for sanctuary as the victors, delivering the wounded soldiers with them for healing as well.

They needed to present a strong, indomitable front. And as at least two hundred gathered, many warriors, but also their families, Colt felt a sense of relief.

Denny had just begun the process of recruiting soldiers, but he had not yet had the time to indoctrinate them and entrench his rule.

With news of what he’d done, with his death, there would be enough chaos for them to join the city under the guise of healing.

Or maybe they’d be entering as conquerors… Colt straightened his shoulders, trying to ignore the pain. It would be weeks before these healed—without true healing. And that was just the surface. His insides were a jumble, and his soul was scoured and burned to even think about his Edicts, let alone pull out a cut should they end up needing him to defend them.

Though they didn’t appear to be a death sentence… Barring any major complications, they did present a form of hardship for this next part. He still had to present a strong front, and being bandaged to the nines and bloody as hell with the barest ability to stand on his own hardly presented the image of a champion who’d slain Denny.

“Whatever,” Colt muttered to himself and finally turned to the other thing he’d been ignoring.

The notifications.

With a slightly heady feeling, he finally opened them up.

———

You have leveled up!

You have 3 Stat points to spend. You have gained 1 point of Dexterity and 1 point of Soul.

Phantom’s Gambit (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Phantom’s Gambit (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Thread Weaver (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Soul And Mind Fortitude (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Soul And Mind Fortitude (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Soul And Mind Fortitude (Intermediate) has reached level 20! This skill has advanced to Soul And Mind Fortitude (Advanced)! As this is now at the (Advanced) level, your mental fortitude has become like a steel wall, resulting in overall effectiveness in withstanding the effects of Edicts or resisting Mental Skills.

Olympic Physique (Basic) has gained a level!

Olympic Physique (Basic) has reached level 20! This skill has advanced to *Olympic Physique (Intermediate)! As this is now at the (Intermediate) level, this skill enhancement to the user’s Dexterity, Strength, and Endurance has increased to 10%.

Olympic Physique (Intermediate) has gained a level!

Olympic Physique (Intermediate) has gained a level!

———

Colt took a deep breath as he tracked the immediate gains from the battle—both of those increases having a direct impact on his current ability to stand. He felt light, and the increased endurance probably meant that he was doing better than before. In the spirit of that, he invested the additional stats gained from the level up into endurance, knowing that functioning right now with the coming return to New Nashville was mandatory.

He was the strongest he had ever been. Aside from his body feeling about two steps from death.

Then, another notification popped into existence.

———

Icon Quest Complete: Good Ol’ Rivalry

Rank: C-

Description: Whoa Colt,

You did it! I was honestly about 60/40 on your chances, weighted in your favor since you’re my little champion and all. But damn, even I couldn’t quite piece together what was going to happen.

So, I’m going to give you your promised reward. I think, my clever little Edict-seeker, you’ve started to become aware that getting more Edicts is quite difficult, right? Hard to grasp? Well, the truth is that in the past three, most people find it quite hard to keep going. With each subsequent Edict they’ve obtained either being tangential to the Edicts they have, a morphing or merger of their Edicts, or taking years upon years upon years—okay, we have a word limit here.

Noted.

I’ll cut to the chase. One of the biggest benefits of having an Icon is I can be your gal to help smooth out your transition to get more Edicts—especially Edicts that fall within my power.

I think it’d take you quite some time to obtain this, if at all, but because it’s a brother to the Edict you’ve already got going on, why not? So, let's just slip another key to victory into your hands, a tool you must master to use, but it's another little jump start to make this world fair and have a path to victory.

This one is probably going to be hard to handle, but the difficulty comes with a reward.

It should help you in the conflict to come, like with the—

*[CENSORED]*

—ah, that was filtered. Worth a try.

Reward: Momentum

Edict Gained: Momentum (Minor)

You’ve achieved a minor understanding of another principle of reality. This is… Oh wow, is your Icon out to kill you? This is another weighty law, and it plays a key part in the universe, which goes hand in hand with your other one. You’ve reached an understanding of this principle and can now interact with it.

———

Colt’s heart stopped; in fact, the entire world stopped around him. Nate stopped moving. People stopped getting ready for their journey. The world was robbed of movement. And with that movement, it was also robbed of momentum.

Including his heart.

Colt tried to move his hand, but there was nothing, no kinetic energy available, his already torn soul was flaying at the edges as yet another beast was thrown into the mix. He felt the two of them circling, great forces of power, ones that were siblings—grandiose things that didn’t want to share this play space that was his soul.

Just because they were related did not mean they were happy with one another; he felt a stab in his chest, his wounds bleeding as his eyes rolled back in his head.

They began to attack each other, two beasts in the depths, content to rip one another apart and him in this temporary meeting. Colt tried to rein it in and get the two to the point of stopping; all of his intent turned to a single moment of survival as Nike had thrown him into the maw of death without any warning.

But it was futile. He was a single person amidst two all-powerful Edicts. The concepts of Movement and Momentum are how both of them fed and relied on the other, yet at the same time, they were not one another but their own distinct ancient principles of reality.

Colt could not tell where one began and the other ended; the soul revolved around and around, condensing as the light and fuel within it were spent and flying away by the second.

And then Cut was there. Standing next to him. A golden figure amidst a swirling mass of black universal energy made up the two of these Edicts as they warred.

It held up a golden knife and put it in his hands, and it mimed cutting with the knife into the darkness.

Feeling on the brink of losing himself and slipping into the void, Colt saw no choice, saw no other option, and just barely followed Cut’s demonstration, slicing into the void with a golden light—a line appeared in his soul, dividing the two, cutting straight through the warring black mass. Tangibly dividing them, keeping them in half. Separating them, as that is what Colt did.

Their attention turned to him. Raged at him. They were all-powerful; they screamed; how dare he.

Yet, they could not overcome the divide. Could not return to their self-destructive war with one another, as this was his soul, and in it, Cut had the mantle of most powerful.

Colt’s awareness snapped back to reality; his heart started to beat. He doubled over as time stopped its frozen nature and vomited blood onto the floor, causing a spark of panic from Julia nearby—he gasped for air, feeling the separation in the soul, feeling the two Edicts still circling but now unable to touch thanks to the golden light dividing them within. They might have been siblings, but they did not wish to concede anything to the other and would rather rip each other apart than admit anything to one another.

“Holy shit Colt,” Julia screamed, staring at him as he shook on the ground.

“I’m okay—“ he lied, still unsure what happened.

“What—“

“Coffee—please—“ he begged, trying to find a way to pull himself together. For better or worse, he had about an hour, and then he’d have to go to New Nashville. Coffee was the one world pleasure that might get him anywhere near the functioning state he needed to be in.

Damn Nike. Bad timing.

###

Hours later, a group of two hundred looked out over the city of New Nashville; the guards on the outside were disorganized, trying to figure out how to respond to the sudden influx of fighters and civilians near them and, in small part, likely realizing that Denny was gone. For all Colt could see as he shivered next to Nate while half supported by the soldier, the city itself was still as put together as before. A pristine beacon in the darkness of Nashville.

As Colt stared at it, watching an anxious contingent of soldiers make their way to them, Colt wanted this city to remain that way—a beacon in the darkness, a home for those who wanted it.

But instead of forcing people inside its walls, it should stand as Nashville's jewel, lighting the way for all the other communities within it and protecting them.

Now that it was free from Denny, he would pursue that goal, letting the people who lived there actually have a voice in what happened to their city. Letting them determine where their efforts were to go—it wasn’t control he sought—but to free them, to free them all in the same way that this system had freed him of his own prison inside of the kitchen.

Everyone deserved to feel free.

“We’ve come a ways,” Sarah said at their side, not much better off than Colt. She’d dealt with Nick—the man was still alive. Bound in the same chains as the rest of the soldiers they’d captured after the fight.

Somehow, she’d restrained herself from finishing the job on that. Colt had been surprised to find that out, but equally hadn’t been in the mood to deal with the once former friend after all of the fighting. What they would do with the soldiers still had to be determined. More importantly, weighing on Colt’s mind was the inevitable future confrontation with their betrayer, and what justice would look like in that case. It was a part of the future he wasn’t looking forward to.

But Sarah was right; they had come a way, all of them. Nate had grown to be the capable, reliable soldier that this world demanded. Sarah had worked hard and once more proved how training work ethics, a stern attitude, and a drive for self-excellence could lead to great things… Even Julia had realized this was truly what life was and begun making changes to adapt to this new reality.

It was a thrill to see their progress, but also, as he watched this city, his city, Colt felt the cold intelligence of his mind as it raced through strategies.

There were a lot of issues to deal with, not just with Nick.

Like what they would do with the city whose leader they slew. And how he could get to the future he envisioned.

The New Nashville guards approached slowly, recognizing the captured guards. Likely their more elite force.

A range of emotions crossed their faces, and they retreated, running back to the city and discussing it with one another.

If left to their own devices, it would be hours before they finally found any kind of representative to take control of the situation—Colt looked at Nate and sighed. “Shall we start this?”

“Aye, the sooner we deal with it, the sooner we can free Jimmy.”

Sure enough, Jimmy was in there somewhere. Sealed away and hidden, one of his biggest priorities was to free their healer once the city adapted to the truth of what had happened. Colt straightened his back, putting all he could into his step, trying to appear healthier than he was.

Now was a time to present power—not in the way a dictator would, but in the way of a new potential pillar to rely on; he would not lead this city, but he would guide it down a softer, better path.

Or at least he hoped.

As Colt approached the guards, with his team at his back and with some of Denny’s personal effects in a bag to prove he’d been slain, he walked a fine line. Knowing how he and his friends dealt with the city now would define everything in the future.

But, with them at his side, they had conquered an endless alley. They had conquered dungeons that should have been their tomb, and together, they would finish the job of saving this city. From there? Maybe the state. Maybe the country… Wherever his path led, he’d walk it, step by step.

First, though, came freeing Jimmy, setting the city right, and securing it as a safe haven of freedom for the people who had managed to survive the apocalypse thus far. After all, what was his power worth if not used to do what he could to do right.

—End Of Book 1—