Plum Parrot

Victor 7.35 - Competition

Added 2024-02-22 18:49:03 +0000 UTC

I hope you enjoy! I think we're going to have a fun 2nd half of book 7. :)

-Plum

Dar started walking as soon as Victor had put on his armor, compelling him to hurry after him. Their brisk pace didn’t stop Victor from asking questions as they went, “Why so many? Did you say tier nine?”

Dar guided him into a side passage, still significant in dimension but ten times smaller than the main World Hall. “I suspect my boasting and wagering on the outcome has piqued some interest among my rivals.” He glanced at Victor, one blazing eye making contact with his. “Tier nine, aye. This challenge dungeon is open to all iron-rankers. I’d say the majority of the entrants will be tier seven or higher.

Victor didn’t respond. He didn’t see a point to it—he was going in, regardless. He’d learned from fighting Karnice that levels weren’t the only measure of a person that mattered. Dar took a side passage, an actual hallway this time, not a great hall, and Victor followed him, admiring the wild murals painted on the smooth plaster walls and ceilings—forest scenes with naked fairy-like creatures, gigantic buildings perched on cliffs, exploding mountains, and soaring dragons. The artwork was, for lack of a better word, epic. Another question came to mind, and he asked, “There will be monsters and stuff, right? You think I’ll see enough action to gain a level or two?”

“Ah, yes, I would hope. I should warn you, though, that the Lifesaver talisman comes with a cost—should it activate, saving you from death, the System will hook its greedy claws into you, drawing out ten percent of your accumulated Energy to award to the contestants still within the dungeon.”

“I take it you don’t mean the Energy in my Core.”

Dar chuckled. “No, sadly, in your case, being level sixty, the System would drain you enough to take away six levels.”

“And anyone still in the dungeon gets a share? Even if they had nothing to do with my, uh, life-threatening situation?”

“Correct. That being the case, if you last to the end, you will likely see great gains in the dungeon.”

Victor squeezed his hands into fists until his knuckles popped satisfyingly. “All right. Sounds fair.”

Dar’s chuckle sounded again, like stones clacking together as they fell from a wheelbarrow. “I knew you had the right sort of spirit. We’re going to work well together, Victor.”

“Do we all start in the same spot?”

“No! The dungeon is structured like a tower, and you’ll all start at the bottom, but it’s vast and has dozens of starting positions. The level is designed in such a way that each starting position is equidistant from the stairway up.” Dar paused, breaking his stride as he scratched his head. “If I recall, there’s only one way up from the first level, so even if you start in a room by yourself, be prepared to encounter others as you ascend.”

Victor nodded. “And you and the others will be watching? That reminds me—my friends were wondering if there’s any way for them to watch. Are there public, uh, viewing screens or something?”

“Naturally! Many establishments in the city have access to the viewing stones. Ah! I should explain that. Each of you will have an egg-shaped stone following you, floating in the air behind and above you. People with the correct access can view you and your exploits through that stone.”

“Huh. Like a drone, I guess.”

“A drone? In a sense, I suppose the word makes sense, though these viewing stones are not controlled by anyone. Still, they aren’t particularly intelligent, and you could compare them to an insect serving a hive.”

“Uh . . . right.” Victor didn’t want to explain what he’d meant by the word. Dar walked a bit further and stopped before large, bronze doors held ajar by soldiers in dull red plate armor, their visors obscuring their features. Victor might have assumed they were human if not for their four arms and segmented, chitin-covered tails protruding from their lower backs. Inside the chamber beyond the door, a single transport pad sat on a big, marble floor in a domed chamber decorated with murals very much like those Victor had seen earlier. More than a hundred people stood around in the chamber, though everyone clung to the stone walkway at the platform's edge—none stood on the metal.

“This is where you’ll all teleport into the dungeon. It occupies a pocket dimension very close to Sojourn, as do all the dungeons purchased through the System stone.”

“Do you get to them all from the World Hall?”

“No, some are accessed through portals in parks, special buildings, or even in the limited real estate not occupied by the city.” He and Victor had stepped to the side of the door and were standing apart from the other groups of people. Dar looked at Victor and nodded. “Your armor is good for an iron-ranker. That helmet is nigh-indestructible, and I can see the wyrm-scale was crafted by a master.” He turned and slowly scanned the room, and Victor followed his gaze.

The people gathered in the hall were incredibly diverse. Most were bipedal or humanoid, as Victor thought of them, but he saw people with multiple sets of legs, and he saw others with none—serpent-like in their locomotion. Perhaps a third of the people gathered had wings of some sort, and they all varied in size from a single-eyed, brutish-looking man half again as tall as Victor to a tiny rabbit-like individual who couldn’t have weighed more than twenty pounds. Dar looked at Victor again, and his face didn’t betray what he was thinking as he said, “There are some very dangerous foes in this room, but I don’t see many with racial advancements on par with yours. That’s an edge for you. Even those in the epic tier don’t have such potent bloodlines. They’ll underestimate you at their peril.”

“Because of my level?”

“Exactly.”

Victor folded his arms and continued to stare at the people around the room. It was hard to pick out which were contestants and which were there to send off their friends, loved ones, or, as in Dar’s case, their students. Victor found the idea of calling himself a student sort of funny; he hadn’t learned anything much from the man yet, but he supposed that would come. He’d only known him for a week. “Any rules?” he asked, figuring he should try to get more out of the master.

“Oh, excellent question! Once inside the dungeon, any dimensional containers on your person will become inaccessible, even that rather potent one you wear around your neck.”

“Shit. Seriously?”

“Aye. Too many folks carry too many artifacts in their storage rings. This rule keeps things a little fairer. Looking around, though, I can see many of the entrants have strapped all manner of containers on their bodies. Hmm. Do you have a satchel or pack you can fill with food? I’m not sure how long you’ll be in there, but you may get hungry or thirsty.”

“Jesus, Dar! Now, you tell me?”

“I don’t require sustenance as you do.” He frowned. “Not that you should require much with your bloodline so advanced. Have you never fasted?”

“Uh, yeah. Now that you mention it, I’ve gone quite a few days without food or water, and that was when my bloodline was only advanced or so.”

“Aye. I imagine you mostly eat out of habit and pleasure these days. I wouldn’t be concerned. I’ve never known this challenge to take longer than a week. You’ll likely come across food and water in the tower anyway.” He snapped his fingers and said, “Which reminds me: If you find a storage item in the dungeon, you’ll be allowed to access it as much as you’d like.”

“What about loot? I mean, if one of the others,” Victor jerked his chin at the crowded room, “dies. Can I take their stuff?”

“If the System fails to rescue them with the Lifesaver, then yes, their corpses and all items upon them are fair game.”

Victor opened his mouth, intent on grilling Ranish Dar until the last second, but then a gong sounded, and a bodiless voice announced, “Teleportation will commence in three minutes. All entrants must now step onto the circle.”

Dar clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck, Victor. Don’t disappoint me.” For the first time that day, he spoke without any levity in his voice, and Victor wondered what Dar would do if he got eliminated right away. He might lose six levels, but it also might be a quick way out of the master Spirit Caster’s service. He almost laughed at the stupid thought—no way he’d throw a match even if there weren’t any penalty. He nodded at Dar, gave him a thumbs up, and strode onto the circle, watching the others as they, too, made their way onto it.

He saw that Dar was right; the people going into the dungeon were easy to pick out now that he knew to look for packs and satchels. Almost all of them had them, and one guy who looked part snail, part lizard, part man had no fewer than four packs and satchels hanging from his sizeable neck and shoulders, each bulging at the seams. Victor thought about digging out some healing potions and a few drinks and snacks and bundling them into an extra shirt or cloak—he was sure he had something—but decided against it. The main reason being that he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of all of his competition. Even he had to admit the sentiment was foolish, but he couldn’t help it.

As he stood there, he noticed the weight of some of the competitors’ auras. He’d been keeping his aura entirely in check, but he began to wonder if he should let it loose. Should he give them a taste of his power, or should he keep them guessing? The auras he felt weren’t particularly potent, and he was sure his would drive them back and press far more heavily on the people around. What if he was wrong, though, and there were others standing on the pedestal who had far more potent auras, only waiting to see who would give a hint of their strength?

He kept remembering when Tes had taught him how to control it, saying that people in civilized, high-Energy worlds would judge him harshly if he didn’t have that control. He decided it was worse not knowing someone’s strength than having a good measure, so he kept a firm grip on it. His decision was reinforced when he heard a tall man with ram’s horns mutter to someone nearby, “Some weak wills on display.”

Again, the gong sounded, and the weird, bodiless voice announced, “Teleportation will commence in one minute.” At the announcement, a circular aperture opened in the center of the ceiling and, with a faint humming sound, pale blue, oval objects, almost exactly the size of a chicken’s egg, floated down through the air, one for each person standing on the platform.

Thanks to Dar, Victor knew what they were, but one of the contestants nearby, someone behind him, asked in a deep, scratchy voice, “What the scourge are these, then?”

A lisping, feminine voice replied, “Them’s how our exploits get displayed for all them folk in the city.”

Victor stood far taller than most of the contestants, so when he looked around, turning in a slow circle, he could see everyone. Some wore armor, while others wore silky robes, and quite a few were dressed in very normal-looking clothes. One woman even had on an outfit that reminded him of the Legion uniform Valla used to wear. He saw weapons of all sorts, from quarter staves to bows to hammers to a man who gripped the hilts of two short, curved swords, each glowing faintly with magenta Energy. While no one looked exactly human, quite a few came close. Many such looked like human-animal hybrids, and he wondered if stories on Earth of werewolves or fox-people had their origins with such folk.

As he looked around, he immediately spotted at least one of the tier-nine individuals. He wasn’t sure how he knew other than the sense of danger he felt when he saw the flickering flames that seemed to sheath his body, the dancing fires behind his cold, blue eyes, and the mean, thin-lipped half-smile he wore as everyone near him tried to make space. As Victor stood there, wondering if he was right, if he was one of the “big competitors” as he’d subconsciously labeled the tier nines, he snapped his fingers and said, “Shit!” He’d almost forgotten about his little magical scope, and he barely located and dug it out of his storage ring before the gong chimed and the voice announced that they had ten seconds.

In a near-panic, he dug around in his storage rings for a leather pouch, bag, or satchel that he could tie to his belt. He’d barely located a mundane belt pouch and tucked the scope into it as, with a flash of white light and nausea-inducing lurch, the portal hall faded away, and he found himself stumbling onto a slightly canted stone platform. The lighting had changed; bright daylight filtered down to him through the leaves of high trees, and wild animal calls sounded in the distance. Not far away, he heard the babbling of a stream or small river, and, just to his left, the diminutive rabbit person he’d seen earlier squealed in surprise and leaped a dozen yards down a gravel-strewn flight of stone steps, taking flight into a stand of berry-covered saplings before Victor could so much as say hello.

Victor shrugged and tied the pouch with his scope onto his belt, then reached up and pulled Lifedrinker out of her harness. “All right, chica. Let’s see what this place is all about. If this is a tower, it’s gotta be big to have trees and sunlight in it, yeah?”

He descended the steps where the rabbit person had fled, switching his Sovereign Will boost to vitality and agility as he went. He figured he’d like to move quickly if someone got the jump on him, and, failing that, he’d like to be as sturdy as possible. He’d only made it two steps, though, before a gong sounded, seemingly out of the sky, and several System announcements appeared in his vision:

***All entrants are present; this competitive dungeon instance is now locked.***

***A Lifesaver Talisman will appear at your feet; wear it at your discretion. If you are saved by this device, you will be stripped of ten percent of your overall accumulated Energy, which will be awarded to the remaining entrants.***

***The denizens of this dungeon have treasures that may be won through combat or subterfuge. Additionally, each entrant progressing to a new floor will be awarded a personal System-generated reward chest. The value of such rewards will be divided by the number of entrants in the dungeon.***

***Good Luck, Victor.***

Victor chuckled. He had to assume the final message was tailored to everyone. He doubted the System would single him out like that, especially to wish him luck. He noticed a little cloud of blue smoke at his feet, and when he bent down to wave it away, he found a golden chain affixed to a tiny, dime-sized medallion with no markings. He shrugged and hung it over his head, tucking it under his vest. As he did so, he thought about how he’d arrived on the platform at the same time as the little rabbit person. What if he’d killed him? None of them had Lifesavers at that point. It seemed kind of sloppy to him but not at all at odds with his view of the often-callous System.

“So,” he said, giving voice to his thoughts, using Lifedrinker as an excuse, “the more people in here, the shittier the rewards. Typical System BS.” He hopped down the steps, noticed a faint dirt trail, and started down it, brushing aside the thin branches covered with juicy-looking, red berries that grew close. They looked delicious, but he knew better than to start eating stuff he found in a dungeon. True, this was only the third “pocket dimension” he’d ever been in, and only one of those others had been a “dungeon,” but he’d learned not to trust things managed by the System. “Especially if we’re in some kind of competition.” He pushed his way through the grove, and when he came out, he saw a long green slope below him. From that vantage, he could see a lot more of the landscape, confirming that he was, indeed, in some sort of structure despite the open-feeling air and magical sunlight.

Down the slope, he saw high white walls in disrepair, and past them, more and more walls and weird, crumbling old structures that might once have been towers or buildings. In the great distance, through a haze that seemed almost like mist or fog, he could see walls rising to a firmament-like ceiling thousands of feet above. At the center of the distant, cloud-obscured stone ceiling, he saw a great spiral stairway descending. “Yeah, this place is nuts. Nobody could make a room this big.” His distant gaze was interrupted by a flash of something bright and a squeal of pain or surprise.

Victor jerked his eyes toward the light and saw another flash of bright yellow fire, and then, before he could decide to charge toward or away from it, a System message appeared:

***Ekus Vi-dronip has been rescued from certain death and removed from the dungeon. Prepare for an Energy infusion.***

Victor stepped back into the grove of berry trees and crouched down, watching the landscape between the narrow trunks. Sure enough, like a sun blooming to life near the top of the central stair, a ball of Energy appeared and then exploded, streaking down toward the ground in dozens of fragments, one of which came straight toward Victor. Victor braced himself, but the infusion wasn’t enough to make him lose himself in the euphoria. It was a lot, but nothing like he’d gotten from some of his battles back in the Free Marches. While he absorbed it, he tried to track some of the other Energy balls, and he was sure he saw two of them flash down at the foot of the grassy slope just a bit past the big crumbling wall.

“Two, huh? So those guys took out the rabbit? Or was the rabbit the one who took someone out?” He doubted it. If the rabbit person had been aggressive, why would he or she have run at the sight of Victor? He gripped Lifedrinker’s haft and, with a grin that said a lot about how much fun he was already having, he started jogging down the slope. “Let’s find out, eh, chica?”