[Voidknight Ascension] Chapter 171 – The Maelstrom

“We’re heading south-nadir at a decent clip, Commander,” said Sila. She kept her hands folded behind her back, watching Gray from their position in the newly built tower dubbed “The Nest” because it allowed people within to view every angle of the growing Skyshard and beyond.

It was very useful for navigation purposes. And while they couldn’t steer the Skyshard Relagia very well, they could with enough warning and effort on the part of the wind Mages.

The Nest was built upon the remains of the old lookout tower that had been Relagia’s earlier command hub and navigation station. Sila dearly wished they would find a Builder. The way the Nest swayed in high winds made her seasick.

While most of the Skyshard seemed to ride currents of unseen mana, using common sails still worked to nudge it along a preferred direction.

Using Wind mana doubled the efficacy of the act, even if it did drain the few wind-spec’d Mages they had on call for just such a task.

Gray nodded, not moving a muscle as the wind whipped through his silvery hair. He stared into the Maelstrom as if it were a personal affront. “Tell the Winders I want a full stop.”

“Sir?” Sila asked. She didn’t normally question his orders, but without the wind Mages—Winders they were calling themselves—they would be pulled into the Maelstrom even faster.

He didn’t turn away from the view. The morning light was just cresting the horizon, and it lit up the Maelstrom in a way that made Sila shiver. It looked like a portal to hell itself. “I have given my order, Sila. See it done.”

“Yessir.” Sila leaned to one of the brass speaking tubes that had been cunningly created and spoke into it. The Skyshard gave a slight lurch as the countervailing force of the Winders was cut off.

There was no doubt about it. The Maelstrom was pulling them in.

Gray was deep in thought, and when the Commander was contemplative, there was a pool of silence that seemed to surround him. Nobody wanted to break it.

“The Maelstrom will be our salvation,” he told the room at large.

There were more than a few questioning glances, but nobody wanted to interrupt him. It was clear he had more to say.

“How many new souls have we added to Relagia since we saw the Maelstrom on the horizon?” he added.

“Nearly half again our earlier number, Commander,” said Harvey. The Bladedancer had impressed Gray with his earlier performance and had quickly risen to prominence within the group. He was ambitious, yet respectful. He still beamed like a lighthouse at being invited to the Nest.

“The Maelstrom is pulling everybody in,” Gray told them, turning to address the group. “We’re all caught in the currents here. Even with the Winders doing their all, we can’t fully change direction. Going against the currents is, as it stands, impossible.

“However, the Maelstrom seems to be wrapping the currents around whatever is inside. I have my suspicions about what we might find within, but the point still stands that it is a crossroads of sorts. I want the Winders to stand down and all mana recovery potions, foodstuffs, and physical remedies are to be given to them with top priority as well as any [Wind Crystals] we have on hand.”

Sila leaned to speak into the tube again, relaying his orders.

“May I ask why, Commander?” Harvey said, standing at attention.

Gray nodded at him. “The Winders, though it may be callous to think of, are very much like our engine. Without them, we are only able to ride wheresoever the mana currents take us. Currently, those currents are taking us to that.” He pointed toward the swirling morass of green lightning and black clouds that obscured the center.

From this height, it looked a little like a demonic hurricane, as seen from orbit.

“I had hoped we could fly high enough to avoid it. The Tower beckons ahead, but it seems that we have an obstacle in our way first.” Gray shook his head. “I cannot imagine that this is anything but by design. Therefore, it’s a test of sorts. Perhaps it is one that demands we dive into its heart, though I think that would be foolish.”

“Then what it is?”

“How many Skyshards do you think have figured out a means of directing their path, or even of meager propulsion?” Gray asked instead of answering.

“Not many, Commander,” Sila told him. “The number of Skyshards we have seen, even those who were well-off, seem to be barely civilized. Few have buildings that aren’t made of mud and twigs, and those that do are still struggling on one front or another.”

Sila had seen it time and time again. And yet… it bothered her anew each and every time. She had seen, at most, a thousand people all told since arriving on the starting island. Most of them in that first grand melee toward the towering ogre and the riches below that had allowed Gray and his group to quickly distinguish themselves from the rest.

Sila saw more people on her way to work every day than she’d seen in weeks here. It was unsettling and disheartening.

She counted herself lucky that she was living somewhere that had privacy, homes, and streets. Even if the homes were little more than sheds of stacked stone and wood, and the streets tamped down earth. None of which were perfect, but they were improving every single day.

They were even working on proper sewage systems with some of the water Mages. How many Skyshards had running hot and cold water or bathrooms that weren’t just a hole in the ground?

Not many she’d wager.

Food was becoming a bit of a problem, but as soon as they figured out how to make a Farmer Profession—or some of the more useful ones like Blacksmith or Carpenter—all their woes would be solved.

Even without Professions, however, they had masons from Earth who knew what they were about. With the added Strength that this new world gave them, they could cleave bricks from stone with simple metal tools that would have required complicated machines before.

They would have done better with Professions, but the few Professions they did have were difficult for new people to pick up. If Tomas wasn’t a Chef, they would have been far worse off than they were.

Gray rewarded utility and loyalty in equal measure. Tomas wanted for nothing. He had all the top tier ingredients he could work with, but he also took time to make larger-batch orders that fed dozens of people rather than bespoke meals with great buffs.

Unfortunately, Tomas wanted nothing more than to cook and create new wild dishes with ever-greater buffs and stats on them. If he had been an Alchemist, he would have qualified as a Mad Scientist.

All of these thoughts passed through Sila in the blink of an eye.

“I believe,” Gray continued, “that the Maelstrom is pulling in every mana current in this Layer like threads on a loom. If not all, it is doing so to a great many. We can grow our population easily here without having to resort to begging for scraps from people too proud to see the situation they’re in. We will welcome them with open arms and when the time is right, we will use the Winders to leave the Maelstrom behind. If we judge it right, and they are properly rested, we can slingshot ourselves toward that distant Tower.”

Nodding toward the dark silhouette on the horizon, Gray smiled at the prospect of what the Tower meant.

Like most of his inner circle, they all had Ascension quests for climbing the Tower. Many people in Relagia had as well once they reached a certain power level. For some it was their Second Order Job, others it was far later.

Most people seemed to get the quest around achieving Copper for the first time. Though there were precious few Coppers for Gray or Sila’s comfort.

Harvey whistled in surprise. “That is a brilliant move.”

Quite the understatement, Sila thought to herself.

Even with the Winders helping them, they had been pulled far off course by the Maelstrom. It had once been a distant thing below and to the side, but slowly it had guided them down—that is to say, nadir, the downward 3-dimensional cardinal direction they used—and toward its hungry maw, away from the Tower.

Which was a shame because they had been making amazing time. By their navigator’s reckoning, they might have made it to the Tower in just a week more.

Now it was anybody’s guess, and even then, that was only ever an estimate based on what limited information they had about this unsettling new world where monsters sprang out of nowhere and people were fractured across a vast space.

Gray took out a golden pocket watch, flicked it open, then shut it again. “Sila, I would like it if you could take charge of the Greens today, take them through the Grass Dungeon, show them the ropes if you would. I will be in the Depths Dungeon if you need me.”

Having access to Dungeons ate up valuable space, but when they first appeared, Gray had been keen to cordon them off and protect them. So long as a clean-up crew ventured inside the Dungeon every few days, the monsters never emerged to threaten their lands.

That didn’t stop Relagia from building simple stone walls and posting watches to keep an eye on them, however. They were naturally occurring. Leave an area alone too long, and it went to seed, spawning monsters, then eventually a Dungeon.

As Gray had seen it, the 3 Dungeons they had were priceless treasures to be guarded and kept safe. They were the sole reason many of their people had Second Order Jobs.

“Of course, Commander.”

“Oh, and take Harvey with you,” he added.

The young man brightened considerably and saluted smartly as Sila beckoned him toward the stairwell. The Nest swayed sickeningly in high winds, but they were able to use [Wind Crystals] that the Mages kept continually topped off to negate the worst of it.

Still, Sila couldn’t wait to get solid ground beneath her feet. Ground that’s flying through empty air, she reminded herself sourly.

Without proper Builder Professions, they had to work with what tools they had available, but that would eventually change, Sila was sure.

There had to be somebody who had a useful Profession. It had begun to feel like all of Relagia was simply waiting for a Blacksmith or Alchemist to show up.

They wouldn’t know how good they would have it. Gray would shower them with everything they could ever want—within reason, of course—and set them up so that they hardly ever had to worry outside of their Profession.

Giving people jobs—that is, the lower-case type—provided a sense of normalcy that was sorely lacking in the post-apocalyptic world. Harvey followed Sila out into the main street. She nodded at the two guards and continued down the road toward the barracks.

“I know you’ve finished the Grass Dungeon, but have you ever led a Dungeon run?” Sila asked him.

“No, ma’am. But, if you don’t mind me saying so, I think I could learn a great deal from watching you. I’m a quick study.”

Sila favored him with a grin. “That you are.”

She picked up her tablet and swiped through the various names of newcomers. “How about we take that new group you’ve been working with?”

Harvey was oddly silent.

Sila stopped in the street, causing a few people to swerve around them carrying loads of goods that would need to be sorted and distributed from the warehouse. “Out with it, Harvey. What’s the problem?”

The Bladedancer shuffled from one foot to the other and then hurried off to the side of the road next to a closed market stall. He beckoned Sila closer.

Looking up and down the dirt street, he dropped his voice, as if afraid somebody might hear. “Every time I try to take them out, the new guy finds an excuse to not fight anything. I don’t know how he does it, and I don’t even realize it at the time! I feel like a failure, but the others are great. The Cleric, Leilani, is close to her Second Order Job, and as Commander Gray ordered, I have kept the others apart… but I just thought I should tell you. Please don’t be mad.”

Sila watched as the optimism and enthusiasm drained out of the youth. She felt a little bad for him. He was doing so well, and he clearly thought he would be punished for another’s recalcitrance.

This wasn’t his fault, and yet she was interested in this Darren creature.

From everything she had heard and seen, he was a model citizen with a severe dislike of fighting. That wasn’t entirely uncommon, but every citizen had to at least clear the Grass Dungeon to be promoted out of the Greens.

And that was a thing of confusion for Sila as well. Darren had been specifically placed in the Reds, a higher-stressed squad that should have long since been promoted out of the Grass Dungeon. How had he managed to slip from one squad to another without Sila noticing before now?

That’s… concerning.

After completing the Grass Dungeon—which many called “Baby’s First Dungeon” because of how easy it was—they were free to pick up a role within Relagia. Otherwise, they could take odd job contracts from those posted on the town board. Simple things like hauling materials or stockpiling ingredients for food could be completed.

Each task not only aided Relagia, but also increased the skills and levels of those undertaking them.

Only those with Professions or extremely useful skills were allowed to bypass the Grass Dungeon. It was a dead-simple level 10 Dungeon. It mostly taught people what to do in an emergency, got them a little EXP, and introduced fighting in a controlled manner with higher level chaperones like Sila and Harvey to make sure nobody was seriously injured.

It was the equivalent of a trial Dungeon in any MMORPG, one Gray’s Guild in the olden days had done hundreds of times to teach newcomers the ropes and get them used to their unique way of doing call outs and mechanics.

“Well, I’ll keep this just between us, shall I?” Sila said with a comforting smile. “Let’s see if we can’t get Darren through the Grass Dungeon and out of his shell.” She turned around halfway across the street to the barracks where all the newbies were housed. “You never really fail until you give up and stop trying, Harvey. So, let’s not give up on Darren.”

I’m going to get to the bottom of how he managed to slip out of Red squad if it’s the last thing I do, Sila promised herself in the safety of her own head.