I turned a corner and jogged down another back alley, stepping from one shadow to the next while avoiding the scattered bottles and mugs from the day's festivities. It was already nearing midnight, and the city was still going strong.
Massive fires controlled by Spells were lit by the Churches at every major intersection, where Deacons from the Church of Liberation and Acolytes from the Church of Damnation were praising the Tower or the goddess, Lady Tara. Bright explosions came from the farmers' fields where the Guilds were still celebrating.
As I prowled the back streets, the noise of the crowds and the shadows cast by the enormous walls of flame concealed my movements. My pack was crammed with everything I felt I might need for the rest of the week, weighing me down as I scurried about.
It would be at least ten days before the Academy had the rest of my belongings shipped to the Origin Floor, and I couldn't be without the essentials. My cane was tucked neatly beneath my arm rather than tapping noisily against the ground as was customary.
I sprinted a few streets over and finally slowed in the snicket behind an old, worn-out inn. Peeking around the corner, I could see two cloaked figures shoving each other and laughing while a third lay slumped against the wall.
The inn was a three-story structure. Each of its windows was boarded shut, and the area around the dwelling smelled of sweat, urine, and cheap booze. A commotion could be heard from inside the place... cups clinking, men cheering, and women moaning in a blend of pleasure and pain.
With soft steps, I crept back to a nearby alleyway and crouched in the shadows, thinking over the supposed layout of the building while keeping an eye on my timepiece. Another explosion roared in the distance, and when it died down, I heard footsteps rapidly approaching.
My body tensed, and I reached for one of the throwing knives hidden under my cloak, but I quickly settled down when I saw the short and chubby newcomer. I released my grip on the knife and stood, stepping out of the shadows and noting the time.
[01:10:04]
"Someone's a bit tardy." I slipped the pack from my shoulders and stretched my limbs. "Did something happen?"
The figure reached for his hood and removed it, revealing a pale-faced Crook heaving beneath. It took him a moment to collect himself before speaking, "It's done. The back entrance is propped open, so you can move when ready. The drug was already taking root before I sneaked out."
The drug wasn't poison but a weak tranquillizer made from the sap of a specific tree found on one of the upper Floors. It was sweet and often mixed with liquor to help those with frequent nightmares sleep at night, and in higher doses, it would cause both the body and mind to become sluggish. It was unlikely to be noticed in a glass of already sweetened ale.
"You've kept your word. I'll keep mine." I patted the merchant on the shoulder as he reached for my bag. "Meet me at the station in Grandhardt tomorrow around noon. Are... you sure you'll be able to handle that?"
Crook looked at me with an annoyed grimace and slung the massive pack over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. "Lad, you're good, and I'll admit you got the drop on me leaping over my counter like you did. Don't let that get to your head. Even a lowly merchant such as myself must be strong enough to haul and protect my wares."
I cocked my head to the side and observed the man in the bright light of another explosion before nodding in agreement. Those carts laden with his goods hadn't been built for horses to pull but for a man. He had to have a Strength Foundation of at least Level 3. One solid hit from him would have sent me sprawling.
"Indeed, I have been rather pretentious," I admitted. Though he wasn't aware of my decades of experience, it was correct that I wasn't omniscient. If Crook's Deck had been packed and built for anything other than managing a shop, he could've avoided my coercion. "Many thanks. Fortunately, I've spent the last few nights gathering information on the Skull. I'm not going in blind."
"Just be careful in there, kid." Crook gripped my arm and turned to leave, still talking over his shoulder. "My employer won't be happy, and I need you alive to keep your word. The Society's Fingers are spread wide."
"Oh, one second." I reached into my bag and pulled out a vial of Infernal Wash, flashing it to Crook with a grin before tucking it securely in my pocket, "The value of exemplary hygiene is beyond estimation."
"You are one strange individual." Crook shook his head and walked away, "I'll be seeing you."
I nodded in gratitude and swiftly returned to the overgrown snicket, armed with only my cane, half a dozen throwing knives, and the Skull cloak I'd procured from Stone. Without the pack weighing me down, I felt like an entirely different person.
Glancing around the corner of the boarded-up inn, I found the three cloaked men were gone, meaning they'd likely returned with the arrival of a new batch of booze. That was good. I was planning for a full house.
When I was sure the coast was clear, I walked into the alley, opened the service door, and walked in after removing the handkerchief that had been keeping it open. Crook had briefed me on the building's layout, but seeing it myself... I had to admit that I was impressed.
While the outside of the building resembled a run-down inn, the inside was immaculate. The side entrance led me into a well-lit kitchen with elegantly carved cabinets and all the essential appliances. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to admire the place... I wasn't alone.
A man stood directly in my path with his pants around his ankles. In front of him, a middle-aged woman lay half-dressed on the floor. Multiple cuts layered her uncovered thighs, and blood poured from her mouth, but she still looked up at the man in defiance.
*Click*
Before I knew it, my blade had severed the man's spine and torn through his neck, splattering blood across the woman and floor in front of him. I withdrew my sword, and the mercenary fell to the ground, the hole in his throat spraying blood as the last of his breath escaped his lungs.
The woman gasped and looked at the body before turning to give me the same look of contempt as she had the mercenary. She tried to stand but fell, and I noticed multiple bruises on her legs.
"I'm not with them, Miss." I nodded to the corpse and knelt down slowly, gesturing to her wounds. "May I?"
She glared at me but didn't resist when I pressed my hand gently against her ankle. I felt a mental tug as I cast Heal, and a dull glow enveloped my hand. The shallow wounds on the woman's body began to close at a visible rate, and even the bruising started to recede.
She gasped, "Are... are you from the Church?"
"No, madam. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to escort you, so I hope you'll be fine on your own. You don't seem to be distressed..."
"It's just part of the job." the woman winced as she stood but didn't fall back this time and even managed to pull on her breeches, albeit clumsily. "Unfortunately, there's always one or two whose tastes are a bit... crude."
"So, no qualms if the rest end up like that?" I pointed to the still-bleeding corpse with my blade.
She shook her head and limped toward the door, "Be my guest."
With that, she was gone, the light from another explosion casting her shadow as the door shut behind her. For a group of dollymops like her to be here on the First Floor... I thought of the man behind Crook. He must still be trying to recruit the Skull.
No matter. I slipped the vial of Infernal Wash from my pocket, using a few drops to clean the blood from my sword and cloak. It wouldn't do to be noticed the moment I stepped in. Before leaving, I pulled the mercenary's Deck Box and tossed it in an empty sack I had tied to my waist next to my Essence pouch. With that, I glanced at my timepiece.
[01:01:16]
Not a moment too soon. I wrapped the cloak around myself, stepped out of the kitchen, and walked quickly down the hall to the open double doors at the end. Empty mugs and glass jars littered the entryway, and riotous laughter could be heard from the room.
Smells of vomit and alcohol assaulted my senses as I took in the scene. It was disgusting. In my previous life, I'd avoided alcohol like the plague. Others took the health of their body for granted. I hadn't been afforded that opportunity then, and I certainly wouldn't squander the chance I'd been given by abusing my body now.
The large room looked to be a renovated dining hall. Mercenaries and women alike were scattered about the place, dancing and hollering. The loudest was an obese man who sat at a large table opposite the entrance.
His hands, wrists, and neck were covered in cheap jewellery, and his bare chest flopped about with every one of his obnoxious laughs. Four of the most beautiful women in the room were standing around him, feigning laughter and serving him fruits and ale. My first target. The head Skull.
I made my way calmly toward his table, trying not to draw the attention of the other mercenaries. Glancing around the room, I didn't think that would be an issue. Most of the men and women were stumbling into one another. A few others were slouched against the walls laughing and pointing at their struggling companions. Whatever dosage Crook had given them, it was effective.
The head Skull was slightly better off, but not by much. He continued spewing slurred profanities and laughing as I approached, never once looking up. My eyes wandered across his skin, looking for the best point to strike.
The jewellery on his neck is layered heavily enough that I can't guarantee a clean hit... Eyes, maybe? No... Time? Two seconds. I should- Shit.
Someone grabbed my shoulder from behind, "Oooi! Wheere'sss yoour driink, frie- Ooooof!"
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I jammed the head of my cane into the man's gut, sending him sprawling. Before I heard him hit the ground, I'd already Dashed forward, clearing the way between myself and the boss in a wink. The giant man tried to move, to shout, but it was too late. My sword had already passed, leaving the glowing crimson trail of Rend in its wake.
In the silence that followed, a wet, squelching sound was heard... and all hell broke loose as a gigantic tear opened in the man's massive stomach. His guts and innards sloshed and spilt to the ground in a pool of blood.
[59:59]
Before the first person could scream, I'd turned and used the remainder of Dash to appear before the sprawling man from moments before. Despite his protests, I jammed the tip of my blade into the base of his skull.
"Well, lads." I glanced around the room and smiled, "Don't stop the party on account of me!"
Apparently, a few in the bunch still weren't wholly blootered because four of the men charged at once. I pulled my sword free and observed their clumsy movements.
"Lesssa k-kill thiss bootlicker!"
My brows pulled together at the insult, "Lad, you shouldn't speak about your elders in such a manner."
My wrist flicked. There was a flash and, shortly after, a scream. The man who'd spoken found a short blade sticking through his cheek, but I didn't have time to admire my handiwork. The other three were on me.
I kicked away the first of the drunkards while lashing out at the second with my blade. A jagged wound appeared on the man's shoulder, and his arm went limp. Rather than retaliating, he screamed in agony and dropped to the floor.
The third mercenary never made it. In his drugged state, he tripped over his own feet before reaching me and was struggling to stand while vomiting the contents of his stomach. I took pity on the man and ended his misery with a Pierce to the neck.
I almost felt sorry for the men... almost.
Two shadows appeared behind me, and I dodged to the side as a chair slammed down on the floor. Another flash and my assailant fell to the ground with a thud, my blade protruding from his chest. His partner was armed and drunkenly swung his sword back and forth at me.
I was without my weapon, but rather than backing off, I waited for the next half-hearted swing and jumped forward, slamming into the stumbling man with my shoulder. He lost his grip as we tumbled to the ground, and his sword clattered to the floor behind us. As we hit the floor, there was a shattering of glass, and I felt a numbing cold from my side.
That was...
"You absolute bungler!" I raised my fists and pummeled the man's face. One hit after another landed, not stopping until I felt a sharp pain from my side. Someone had thrown a bottle, "Thanks for the help!"
While still pinning the man down, I raised my hand and reached for the bottle. It vibrated and shot toward my hand. I'd barely caught it before my hand swung down and the bottle smashed into the already unrecognizable man's head, ending his life.
The first mercenary I'd kicked was climbing to his feet. I used Throw again, slinging the bottle as hard as I could toward his skull. In an instant, he was back on the ground, this time unconscious.
Concentrating on Perception to help sharpen my senses, I swiftly took in the happenings of the room. The rest of the Skull were in rough shape. Some were stumbling toward the door while others clumsily made their way toward the fight. It seemed these men were the only few able to put up a fight.
The cooldown on Dash was over. My feet pressed into the wood floor, and I launched forward, catching the group trying to escape and quickly ending their lives. Only three were left, and they'd lost the will to fight.
They fell to their knees and didn't bother to struggle as I ended their lives. Since they'd given up, I ended their lives in the most painless ways I knew. When the last man fell, there was a flash of light and a clink of metal as an object clattered to the floor before me.
That was different. There hadn't been any of the usual fanfare or the thirty-second wait... I picked up the Card and looked over it. I'd never seen anything like it.
It was just a silver Card with a VIII stamped to the front in golden lettering. The back was plain with none of the usual colours that would indicate whether it was a Spell or Ability or any other Card Class for that matter.
Curious, I reached into my front pocket and pulled out a soaking-wet piece of Demon Glass. When I'd tackled that one mercenary to the ground, my vial of Infernal Wash had busted open, resulting in me having spotless breeches but a bloodied face and jacket. With a sigh, I touched the Glass to the corner of the Card and waited.
[Card Name: Promotion]
[Class: Relic]
[Uses: 8]
[Effect: Wielder can use this Relic to increase the Rank of any Pure or Blessed Card. This Relic has a limited number of uses that can not be recharged]
I stared at the object in awe... a Relic... that could promote a Card to the next Class? Was that even possible? My body shook with excitement, but I didn't have time to focus on this now. I placed the Relic safely in my satchel and glanced at my timepiece.
[55:35]
All that had taken just under five minutes. Even if it seemed fast, I didn't have much time. For this century's Achievements to matter, I had to ascend before the century was over. Still, I'd planned to finish here in around nine minutes, which left me a bit more than four to loot.
I set to work immediately, securing the Deck Boxes of the fallen before making my way to the corpse of the head Skull. All the women had left, but when I arrived at the table, I found a surprise waiting for me.
"There you are..." I smiled and looked behind the bench, where a drunken mercenary was fussing with the belt that held his former captain's Deck Box. There were supposed to be fourteen mercenaries other than the head Skull himself, and I'd killed the boss and the one in the kitchen before the last hour.
"D-Don't kill me!" he cowered back and pressed himself against the wall. I stared at the man for a moment and glanced at my wrist. There was time.
"Let's make a deal." I snatched the Deck Box from the corpse and gestured to the drunkard. "You tell me where this guy keeps the good stuff, and I won't take your Deck before I leave."
The man gulped and clutched at the wooden box on his waist, "H-Heee... It... I-In here."
He pointed toward a small door that I hadn't noticed before. It was hidden under the bench where the boss had been sitting. I nodded and used Pierce, ending the man's life before opening the trap door. As promised, I didn't take his Deck Box.
It took some effort to shove the obese man off the bench. Once he was out of the way, I focused on the door. With a grunt, I pulled it open and peered inside. Rather than a batch of loose Essence and Cards like I'd been expecting, there was a leatherbound book and a rusted metal crate.
I strained to pull the safe from the hole where I could look it over. With a thud, it hit the ground, and in the light, I could see the tiny keyhole on top. Peeking into the cubby, I didn't see a key, so I ran over and felt around the head Skull's corpse. As luck would have it, I found a tiny black key hanging from one of the bracelets on his wrist.
"There's no time to sort through it..." I sighed and untied my Essence pouch before pulling a Card from my Deck, Strength. As fast as I could, I fed the Card two hundred of the Level 5 shards. When the Strength Foundation hit Level 2, I felt a surge of power flood my body.
My muscles tensed, and I gritted my teeth as every muscle in my body cramped at once. The rush overtook the pain, and soon enough, the discomfort was replaced with soothing warmth. I breathed out slowly and returned the Card to its slot.
The Foundations that directly affected the body weren't as simple to Level as Agility or Perception, where the changes were much more subtle. At least for the first few Levels.
With the boost to my Strength increased from ten to fifty per cent, I tried to lift the safe. This time, it was within my limits. I gathered my thrown weapons and my sheath before lifting the safe onto my shoulder and returning to the shadows of the alley.
Eventually, I made my way out of the slums and back to the main road, where I saw the Academy looming on the hill above. Only one guard was stationed at the gate, and he lay on the ground snoring with an empty bottle on his chest. A gift from Crook.
I smiled and strode confidently through the open gate. It was finally time to leave this place. I was ready to clear the First Floor.
[54:59]
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