48 (II) Jealousy [II]

48 (II)

Jealousy [II]

Shiv was wrong. The hard part wasn’t going to be killing the Jealousy, but not butchering the guard that was breathing his foul breath in Shiv’s face as he locked the chains in place.

“Damn shame about some of these slaves,” the guard said. He sniffled and rubbed his nose as he leered at Shiv one final time. “This one especially. He looks like he still has some life in him. Why do—”

“Adept Cormand,” the Vulteg Overseer present said, glaring at the burly guard with her one eye. “If you touch the Jealousy’s food, and it gets a fresh memory it doesn’t like the flavor of because of you, I will personally keep you alive until the next year, in which you will be offered as a sacrifice in place of a lucky slave.”

The miserable sack of flesh named Cormand stuttered and looked away from Shiv. “I was just sayin’…”

“And I have spoken,” the Vulteg Overseer hissed. “Secure the cattle and then move them. Nothing else. Now. Do your duty.” She looked over the slaves gathered in the fetid, cramped room and shook her head. “Why you humans desire to touch any of the wretches is beyond me. I must praise Lord Scorn for birthing us void of miserable, mammalian impulses.”

When the Overseer left the room, Cormand just spat a globule of phlegm on the ground. “Yeah, well, I’m glad I’m not a felling squid-headed bitch.” He gave Shiv and a few others a final, miserable sneer. “Sorry, sweet things. Another life.”

Sooner than you might think, Shiv thought, making a mental note to come find this one later. The same way he made a mental note to resolve the matter of Oldsmith when he first entered the gate.

Getting smuggled into the slaves selected to be the Jealousy’s next meal wasn’t particularly hard. All of them were selected as those deemed too sick, too defiant, or too incompetent to be worth anything. With the slaves being transferred from individual buildings and districts across the gate, Shiv slipped in among them with Leu’s help and let the guards move him along. Playing the role of a miserable, broken slave was mostly easy. Shiv didn’t need to talk much. But if Cormand actually tried touching him, Shiv would have ruptured all his brain vessels.

Pathbearers didn’t often drop dead for no reason, but it wasn’t unheard of. The System was a capricious entity at times.

As Shiv found his collar joined to the other slaves in his group by the same chain, he took a moment to study them. He was at the front of his line, with another row on each of his sides, each about a dozen people long. A good portion of them seemed old or ill, but more than a few simply looked young, badly beaten, angry, and scared. A few of them eyed the single-handed hammer Cormand had hanging from his hip, but none went for it.

If their skill levels were anything like what Shiv’s Perfect Semblance had, he understood why. Those on the Path of the Slave had most of their martial skills emptied out, with Festik having Striking Proficiency at some point, but now the level was blank. It seemed, once one embarked on this Path, conventional resistance became impossible. Only the magic skills still seemed viable for combat, but there was one other issue with being a slave.

Curse: Sigil of Supplication - The sigil imprinted on the back of your neck will inflict unbearable pain if you do not obey the commands of the ones registered as your owners.

However bad Shiv’s childhood was, it was nothing compared to this. Being unable to resist anyone’s commands, being little more than cattle to be abused and forced in one direction or another, was as close to hell as Shiv could imagine. He would rather live on the streets forever, hated by everyone who saw him, than deal with this. At least he got to make some of his own choices growing up.

Cormand commanded the slaves to rise. Some did. The others tried to resist at first, but each of them cried out in agony seconds after as their sigils flared. To Shiv’s surprise, the spells inscribed on the backs of their necks were crimson. This was Biomancy in origin, and he could feel the effects of the sigil. It wasn’t even doing anything overly complicated, just hyper-stimulating the nervous systems of the slaves.

Wretched as it was, Shiv studied the effects with his field as best he could.

It would be deliciously amusing to inflict the very same spell on Cormand when Shiv found him again in the future. The other slavers too for that matter.

Practical Metabiology > 16

“Where—where do you think they’re taking us?” a slave behind Shiv asked. She was a human and looked younger than most, but there was a furious spark in her eyes as she glared at Cormand. When no one answered her, she swallowed and lapsed into silence, but she never stopped glaring at the slaver. She probably fell in the “too defiant” category. Her courage was also holding admirably strong when Shiv examined the other slaves with his Dread Aura, just brushing against their courage without pushing.

I think I’m going to keep an eye on her.

That's when Shiv noticed another thing about the group. There were no automata. They were all predominantly human, with a few Umbrals thrown in for good measure. Maybe that was a coincidence, but Shiv thought not. With how many automata were being brought into the gate as slaves, he guessed that this might be athing of taste for the Jealousy. Mainly because he could feel The Chef Unwavering shaking inside him as well, lighting the people around him as ingredients

Wait, does this mean I can prepare people as a dish for a Greater Demon? Though the thought disturbed Shiv, it made sense. It was within the duties of a chef, after all, even if it was a bit horrific.

Their walk to the Jealousy’s hidden den took well over an hour. After getting off an elevator and marching across a plaza, Shiv found the streets even more controlled. There were dimensionals everywhere—especially those flying eyeball things that constantly scanned minds. There was a sizable presence of Vulteg as well, now, each of the tentacle-headed humanoids leading their own group of Pathbearers. Above, the gray sun shone colder than ever, and the entire gate realm was practically freezing over. Some slaves cried and shivered under the oppressive temperature. Shiv wasn’t bothered, but he could feel what was happening to the others beside him and clenched his jaw. I can feel the frostbite sinking into them…

As the group slowed, Cormand pulled harder, commanding them to keep up. Those that didn’t suffered the sigil. As people cried out around Shiv, the rage inside him built, going from a flame to repressed inferno. He hated this place. He hated the bastards that ran it. He hated Compact. And he hated Confriga for being too weak to follow his own beliefs.

After a few minutes, their procession entered a particularly dilapidated-looking building, moving through a dimly-lit corridor lined with dusty boxes. Some of the human slaves clearly had a hard time with the lack of light, and an older slave soon tripped over a piece of wood and fell to Shiv’s left. He caught the man before he could bring the rest of the group down. The brief interruption to their march was still enough to provoke Cormand to turn and clench his fist. “What part of march don’t you understand? You worthless—” He came forth, swinging a wild haymaker at the old man. Shiv blocked the blow reflexively—and felt the slaver’s knuckles and wrist shatter against his elbow.

Cormand let out a wild howl of pain as he clutched his right hand. Shiv regarded the man with a wince. Shit. Well. This is going to look weird. Uh, think… Godsdammit, I’m the worst spy in existence…

The guard’s eyes were wild with rage as he regarded Shiv. He immediately went for his hammer with his working hand and swung the weapon as hard as he could across Shiv’s face. Not just one, but dozens of blows snapped into Shiv at whipcrack inducing speeds. Several other slaves were launched from their feet as Cormand vented his outrage. The girl a few places behind him shouted and tried to get in front of Shiv to blunt some of the beating, but found herself restricted by the chain. The Deathless just frowned harder.

Great. This is going to be even worse, now. Alright. Let’s see how I’m going to bullshit my way out of this…

After a good half minute of swinging, Cormand staggered back, gasping for breath. His eyes widened as he stared at Shiv. The Deathless was annoyed but entirely unharmed. “I… You… How…”

“They will never believe you,” Shiv began, just saying shit to give himself more time to think. “They will never believe you couldn’t hurt a child slave with that hammer.” He increased the pressure of his Dread Aura and drove it against Cormand as he stepped closer. The guard’s bravery dented inward.

“What… what…” Cormand said, gasping like a fish on land. “How did you…”

Shiv took his chain and shook it. “Keep the group going,” he whispered. “The Overseer isn’t going to believe that you stopped this long to punish a slave with nothing to show for it. If she comes back, we'll just tell her you couldn’t help sampling the goods along the way and dropped the hammer on your hand in the process. Your hand, which is definitely broken. Now. We’re going to keep going. You’re going to get us to where we need to be, and you won’t mention this to anyone. Because it didn’t happen.” Shiv shaped a Woundeater wyrm and sent it out to consume the damage inflicted on the guard's arm. In a slither of red, the wyrm returned to Shiv—and he nullified its mana with his Magebreaker Gauntlet, causing the crystallized wounds to splash against the Inertium and amplify its vibrations.

Woundeater > 53

Several slaves stumbled back from Shiv. The defiant girl behind him gawked. Shiv chanced a quick look up and around to make sure no one else saw this little scene, then continued his intimidation. He was glad this hadn't happened while they were still outside. “Cormand. Look at me.”

The guard blinked, staring briefly at his own repaired hand, trembling as he gazed upon Shiv with terrified eyes. “W-who are you?”

“A slave,” Shiv said, pressing his Dread Aura harder. Cormand’s courage started collapsing. The guard backed away from him. “That’s what you’re going to believe I am. That’s what you’re going to say. I took those wounds from you. I can return them to you any time I want. And I will if you ever mention this to anyone. I’m in your mind too. I know who you care about and what you treasure. I got people in this gate watching you. Not even the Gate Lord will be able to keep you safe if you tell anyone what just happened. You understand? Nod if you understand.”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Cormand did so vigorously. “Y-ye—”

“Then pick the godsdamned chain back up and keep moving,” Shiv snarled. “Wipe that fear off your face. You do that, and your arm stays fixed. Don’t, and I’ll break everything but the arm.”

Dread Aura > 63

Silver Tongue > 10

The terrified slaver did as he was commanded, picking up the chain and pulling the group on. When he tried to chance a glance at Shiv, the Deathless squeezed the guard’s once-broken arm with his Woundeater mana, and Cormand nearly pissed himself. The pace of the group quickened, but now the other slaves were staring at Shiv. Shit. “Cascading series of stupid” problems…

“None of you say anything either,” Shiv growled at the slaves. He hated using his Dread Aura on them, but he couldn’t have them breaking his cover either. Most of slaves bent to terror almost immediately. The girl behind him flinched, but now she had her eyes locked to him.

Dammit, Shiv cursed. Not what I need right now.

As they moved deeper into the unmaintained building, Shiv found the rooms to be empty and the floor to be carpeted with dust. This place hadn’t seen people in a while, but as they got to the end, another heavily armored guard waved them in toward a working elevator. “Cormand. You’re the last group—and late. What’s the hold up?”

“O-one of the fu-fucking slaves tripped,” Cormand stuttered, his body still shaking with terror.

Shiv cringed. Too much Dread Aura. Shit.

The other guard frowned at Cormand. “You alright? Shit, man, you didn’t take any Drift before the shift, did you?”

“N-no. I just… feel sick. Like I got the fever.”

His colleague winced. “Alright. Get those slaves in and punch out. I’ll cover for you. Say one of the cattle tried to run.”

Cormand couldn’t help looking at Shiv one last time. Shiv squeezed the man’s arm again. This time, the guard did piss himself slightly. “Y-yeah,” he said, clenching his legs together. “T-thanks. I need to… to…”

He stumbled away from the group, making fast for a doorway.

The Deathless struggled to keep a straight face. He better not tell anyone. I hope that Psychomancy bullshit got to him. No idea how I would have gotten through that without Dread Aura.

Another major benefit that came with high Intimidation: Even if someone knew you were lying, you could scare them into willing ignorance.

As Shiv and the other slaves got on the elevator, the new guard eyed them and shook his head. He waved his hand over a series of mana symbols, seemed to solve some kind of puzzle as he assembled the shape of a final spell, and finally tapped that one, after which the large elevator started moving downwards with a low rumble.

Shiv could still feel the girl in the back looking at him. She hadn’t said anything yet, but he was just waiting for something to go wrong.

“It’ll all be over quick,” the guard said with a sigh. Shiv regarded the armored figure and felt how tight the man’s posture was. “It won’t feel good, but your minds will go quick. That’s something, right?’

Shiv realized the guard was trying to comfort himself about what was going to happen. The guard knew. The other slaves looked confused and fearful, but Shiv simply glowered at the man. He wanted to pull the coward in half, but he held back. Made enough of a mess as is. I’m gonna need to take Acting lessons or something. Every attempt I made at spying has been a real disaster. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I look forward to fighting the damn Jealousy. At least that will be straightforward.

As the door opened, Shiv found himself led out into a cavernous expanse. This place didn’t look like it was part of the building, and the temperature had gone from frigid to scorching. Several slaves that lacked shoes cried out as they stepped on the rough, stone floor. Not far in front of them, a massive set of curved gates stood open, leading into a wide, open chamber that looked like…

A teleportation anchor?

There were hundreds of other slaves being led in ahead of them, with guards slowly filtering out. Shiv could see the Vulteg Overseer from earlier hovering in the air. She briefly regarded his group before a spatial distortion swallowed her, causing her to vanish from sight. Shiv's group was the last to enter through the massive doors—and judging from the sheen, Shiv guessed that they were made from reinforced titanium or something.

Inside, Shiv found himself being packed in tight with a mass of other slaves. True to his guess, this place was mostly filled with humans, with a few Umbrals. They were all glowing like ingredients to his Cooking Skill as well. A real ominous sign of what was to come. The fact this place practically counted as a kitchen made him instantly realize there were exactly 1344 slaves, himself excluded. The information slammed into him as The Chef Unwavering’s focus rushed through his body. It was a pretty dark way for the skill to activate, but frankly, Shiv wanted every edge he could get now.

His assessment that this place looked like a teleportation anchor was more right than he could have thought as well. There were complicated spell patterns circulating along the walls—though far fewer in variety compared to the average anchor.

Still. What the hell is it with the System making me brawl big godsdamned monsters in teleportation anchors?

“That’s the last of them!” a guard called. “Everyone else, out! Get your asses out before the doors close.”

“Yeah,” another guard barked, laughing. “Don’t want to end up like MacDowell. Poor shit.”

As the guards began rushing out, the large curved doors groaned, squealed, and started to shut. Most of the slaves were frozen in terror. Shiv sensed collective courage was in ruins, and that more than a few were still suffering from the sigils. The stench in the air was also almost unbearable. Too many bodies packed too tight together. Shiv almost gagged. Adam might just drop dead from this.

As he slowly pushed past several slaves, he studied a colossal door, punching it once with his fist. He left a small dent, but he wasn’t going to be hammering his way out. Probably not even with Momentum Core. This place was meant to serve as a cage for something much bigger than him. A cage, or a nest.

“Hey,” the girl at the back of his group called out as she pushed free from a mess of sobbing, shaking bodies. Shiv ignored her for a moment as he studied his surroundings some more. Looking up, the ceiling was high. A few hundred meters at least. Shiv blinked. Just how far down did we go? We must be beneath even the molten rivers to have this much space. That explains the heat too…

It was then that he noticed something else. There were ten enormous “handhold”-looking protrusions lining the inside of this teleportation anchor. Each of them gleamed slightly, and Shiv realized they were focus crystals. Oh, shit, that’s not good. That’s a lot of focus crystals… for a whole lot of monster. This is going to be a miserable godsdamned fight if I can’t break those crystals. He looked at all the slaves around him and winced. And how am I supposed to keep most of you poor bastards alive?

“Hey!” The girl gripped his arm. “Who are you? And why did you just let that man take all of us! You have magic! I saw you use magic on him—to fix his arm after you broke it? Who are you?”

Shiv stared at her and frowned. He didn’t blame her for being upset, but he also wasn’t going to let her know who he was—especially with him planning how he was going to attack the Jealousy the moment it got distracted with drainingeveryone's minds.

But an amusing thought occurred to him. Something that might piss off the Gate Lord even more if this girl somehow survived. “I’m with New Albion, here to sample some exotic calamari.”

“What?” she said, “What’s that? And what’s calamari?”

Shiv’s frown returned. Right. She was a slave, and a young one at that. She might know less about the world than he did after falling into the Abyss.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Shiv regarded her for a moment with discomfort. “Listen, when the fighting starts, I need you to get as many people as you can and curl up against the walls. I’ll try to keep the fight away from you. If I can. Somehow.”

“Fight? What fight?” the girl asked, frowning.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her what was about to come, but it wasn’t in his nature to lie. “In a while, a Greater Demon is going to come in and feed on everyone's minds. The moment it does, I’ll use that as a distraction to try to kill it. Things will get bad, so the best thing you can do is keep your head down, curl up, and press your back against the walls.”

Her eyes widened in confusion and horror as she looked at him, but to his surprise, she just swallowed and nodded. “Okay. Okay. I can do that. But… how are you going to kill a Greater Demon alone?”

Shiv grinned at her. “One death at a time is my general plan, but we’ll see how this goes soon.”

And then, waves of immense pressure washed over Shiv. A chorus of wailing confusion and discomfort sounded from all the slaves trapped within the great anchor. In the air above, an expanding sphere of spatial mana began to swell, and from within its confines slipped the first of the Jealousy’s great tentacles. The Jealousy wrenched itself free from the spatial bubble even before it finished expanding, popping out like an octopus might from an egg. Shiv could finally see its appearance in detail—its deep-purple outer flesh dense and jagged chitin that looked more right on a crab or a horned insect than an octopus.

Then came the monster’s single eye, glowing bright with mana, like a hateful star.

Beneath its baleful glare, the slaves screamed in terror, their collective courage turning to dust. The Jealousy, meanwhile, felt like an unbreakable mountain in terms of morale. Shiv intended to change that by the end of this fight.

As the final pulse of teleportation magic died down and the Jealousy hooked its massive, claw-tipped limbs through the focus crystal grips bolted against the anchor, Shiv saw the spell patterns lining the walls circulating faster and faster. He drew upon his Biomancy and reached into his cloak, seizing two adamantine bone drills. Alright, you big ugly shit, let’s see what you’re made of.

To his surprise, instead of beginning to feed immediately, the abomination spoke. “Hmmm. Tasty little minds!” the Jealousy proclaimed with a cackle of glee. The creature’s telepathic voice was sharp and high, not at all what Shiv had expected, not that he'd expected it to address them at all. The way it projected a literal flood of Psychomancy mana down on all the slaves also nearly caught him off guard. All around Shiv, slaves twitched. The girl’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as translucent tendrils of mana spread out from her orifices as near-invisible tendrils.

Shiv didn’t use his Magebreaker to parry the invisible blow coming for him. Instead, he felt his mask shudder as he pretended to be incapacitated too. He needed it to start feeding before he attacked. Only then—

Then, the Jealousy stopped. Its mind mana suddenly shifted across the room in rushing currents. “Something—something is suspicious!”

The Deathless froze. The creature’s mana crashed down specifically on Shiv—on the group he came with. “Not right. This memory is not right. Slaves cannot fight back. Slaves cannot Intimidate. Wrong memory? No. Cannot be misremembered. Too many consistent memories between minds. Has to be true. Has to be…”

And as the Jealousy rambled through his stream of thought, Shiv cursed himself one final time. The other slaves remembered Shiv’s conversation with Cormand—a very recent, very memorable event that was fresh in their minds. Why it slipped his mind this might happen, Shiv didn’t know. Now, the Jealousy was scanning through these memories too, focusing on his group specifically.

The Jealousy’s eye snapped to him, widening.

I am the godsdamned worst spy in existence, Shiv muttered mentally. And then he promptly launched his two bone drills right at the monster’s eye.