Path of the Slayer B3 55. Survivors & Demigods

Even though I couldn’t move, I was aware, and through my peripherals I sensed she was there with us. A big She. The God-Queen.

I couldn’t see her exactly. Nothing about her presence gave much away. Yet, I imagined her extending down her hand or her finger or the tip of her cosmic nail to touch Zez.

I imagined her returning his little soul to his body, and doing so warmly, eagerly even, because I was calling for her aid. I wouldn’t have this token if she hadn’t been looking out for me.

Then the light winked out, time resumed, and Veteran Zez snapped back to life with all of his energy, completely cured of defilement.

The little ratkin gasped and trembled in his wife’s arms. Before he could even get a word out, a barrage of kisses covered his face. Sharia’s embrace became tighter, engulfing her husband completely, to where I feared she might kill him again by accident.

Sharia wailed and sobbed as she kept kissing her husband and sputtering in between. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“What was that?” Merlin asked, staying knelt beside Syleth.

“A Pathwalker Revival Token, Level 101, Legendary,” I answered. “It’s probably worth somewhere north of twenty quadrillion credits.”

Sharia froze.

Everyone froze.

“Oh, damn,” V grumbled, still on his side as he watched over us.

Zez wriggled enough to squeeze his head free from his wife’s bosom. He gazed at me like I couldn’t be real.

“Did … you just revive me … using an item worth twenty quadrillion credits?” he asked shakily.

“North of twenty quadrillion credits,” I corrected. “The System described it as tens worth. Maybe it was thirty quadrillion credits, or she would’ve said closer to twenty.”

“I’m not worth thirty quadrillion credits,” Zez murmured.

“He’s … not,” Sharia agreed painfully.

“I don’t care,” I said. “I had the power. I made my choice. I’m sure I’ll gain beyond thirty quadrillion credits if I continue my course. It’s only a matter of time and survival.”

“What if that revival token was supposed to ensure you make it?” Merlin asked. “What if it was supposed to save you?”

“Maybe yes, maybe not,” I replied. “I don’t intend to make it easy to kill me. Especially not after a day like today.”

“I will massacre anyone who dares threaten you, Master Arden,” Grimmy swore. “I’m your knight, your Little Fighter. I’ll kill them all.”

“I’m your Wizard Until Death,” Merlin reconfirmed before pointing down at Thumper. “He thinks you’re the coolest ever. He’s as loyal as your overpowered little sister over there.”

On the outside, I kept my face neutral and unreadable. Internally, I was relieved to hear all that.

“I think we’re getting off this ride after today,” Velira said softly. “I’m taking Weaver with me to be my husband, regardless of what my family may think. Redfang, Kroker, I invite you to stay at my home as long as you want. After a day like this, you’re practically family to me.”

“Are you sure? I’m a half-gnoll.” Redfang winced. “You have a proper elf family and all.”

“Won’t they be hostile to us?” Kroker asked carefully. “You grew up believing in purity and the doctrine of the First Elven Family.”

“I don’t stay with that side of the family anymore. The other side will be uncertain at first, yes. But they wouldn’t dare question me after what we did today. Please, stay with me and Weaver if you have nowhere else more pressing to go,” Velira explained gracefully.

“Then can I make a request, Velira?” I directed toward the elf.

Weaver shifted around to place his body in front of his would-be wife. Velira calmly moved the drider aside and faced me directly.

“Our emotions are running high, and our losses are hard on the heart despite the brief span of time we had together. But it’ll be foolish of us not to recognize all you’ve done for us, Arden the Nomad,” Velira said calmly, looking from me to her would-be-husband and the others.

She carried on with an inner strength that spoke well of her character. “Not only that, but the growth and resources we’ll come away with after today may set us up for the rest of our lives, especially with each of us having a Dragon Princess Favor. Such a thing might as well be priceless. So please ask me anything.”

Velira stood stalwart and noble.

Seeing that, Weaver settled in a supportive position behind his would-be wife. Regardless of the anger in his heart, his tact and recognition of Velira’s strength was good to see. I imagined they would grow into a powerful couple if they could overcome whatever challenges their union would bring.

“The credits I’m earning from this Royal Quest. I’ll pass it to you, and you can split it between the next of kin of our fallen,” I said.

“That’s unnecessary,” Zez piped up.

“Why?” I asked.

The ratkin wriggled around in his wife’s clingy grasp to straighten up and speak with more presence. “Surely, you can ask the Dragon Princess to pay each family in full.”

I shifted with uncertainty at that, my stalwart character breaking slightly. “That wasn’t in the Royal Quest.”

“Perhaps I’m reaching beyond my understanding of your relationship with her … but didn’t we go above and beyond? Is it not possible to ask her for such without expending your Dragon Princess Favor?” Zez inquired. “She did offer to pay my family in full if I were to die during the original version of the Royal Quest. I can see her making exceptions.”

Merlin spoke next. “Honestly … yeah, I can see it, especially if it’s Arden asking. The next of kin deserve full payment. And hell, get them a Dragon Princess Favor, too.”

I didn’t argue. I nodded. “So be it. I’ll make it happen.”

V let out an unintelligible grumble. Turning back, I looked into his nearest eye, a spark of hatred glinting through. He kept it to himself.

“You’re going to be gone for a while to heal up, I imagine,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s right, sir,” V muttered. “Do summon me again for another rowdy one like this. Almost reminds me of the good ol’ days.”

I scoffed. “I really want to summon you for a day of relaxation next time. But needs before wants, I suppose. Later, V.”

“Don’t beat yourself too much, young one,” V said, before fading away with his dismissal.

I looked over to Sabretooth who rolled around shakily. There were definitely a few things knocked loose. She bumped into my side, and I smiled as I rubbed over her battle wounds.

“I really need to upgrade you sooner than later.” I patted her tire. “Thank you, Sabretooth. Rest well.”

She let out a hearty purr before disappearing with her dismissal. She and V would be out of commission for a while until the damages fixed themselves. In that regard, Bonded Treasures and Path Magic for summonings worked similarly.

Beyond that, I had a lot of things that needed fixing or replacing. The Mag Storm Cannon ended up warped when I’d stowed it away. The Genocider Greatsword was no more, leaving me without one of my favorite weapons. I’d spent almost all of my bombs on slowing the initial onrush of the giant Rank 5 defiled monsters. All that left me with were my small guns, the Lever-Action Arm Cannons, but that wasn’t enough for me.

It felt like I was back at the drawing board, but not quite.

I’d grown too much from this.

“Thank you, by the way,” Velira said, regaining my attention. “For your consideration of their next of kin. Few would think of such a thing.”

I nodded. “It’s just something that came from my years as a bottom-rung adventurer. I’d done checks with next of kin for coppers or bronzes who died on duty.”

I’d talked to plenty of people during quests who lost their siblings, children, parents, friends, or whoever because of the dangers that existed all across the Realm Verse. It wasn’t something I thought about much these days, but the moment was appropriate enough for it.

“Thank you, Arden the Nomad.” Redfang bent down from her seven-foot height and embraced me, my shoulder receiving her sobs. I hugged her in return until she pulled away and embraced Velira.

“Thank you, Arden the Nomad. Thank you Elders and Veterans all. I shall pray every day for your success.” Kroker bowed gracefully to each of us, even unconscious Thumper.

“Thank you. And I apologize for my unseemly behavior,” Weaver mumbled with all the earnestness he could muster. “I will be out of sorts for some time. It is fortunate I still have Velira. It will be nice with Redfang and Kroker staying with us. Together, we shall ensure the remains of our friends are returned where they belong.”

“Good,” Merlin said, patting Syleth’s cheek. Then with a strength that was beyond most men, he stood and addressed everyone with a spark of life in his reddened eyes. “We’re done here, right? I don’t think any of us are interested in looting any of these bodies, right?”

“I dread even considering such,” Zez said.

Sharia sighed as she stood up with her husband hugged close. “For this once, I don’t have enough of the Raider in me to raid.”

“Leave it all. It’s defiled. Let’s get going,” I said.

With that, I turned toward Thumper. Doomie, however, beat me to him first. She sprouted suddenly, going from five-three to eight-three. Picking up Thumper, she held him easily to her enlarged chest as she towered over all of us.

With an approving nod, I thanked her and waited as Kroker carefully took our dead into his storage knapsack. With nothing left to hold us, Sharia and Zez led the way across death and destruction.

Our half-orc Veteran moved slowly for our weary juniors. Even Merlin didn’t have it in him to summon his Dragon Gunship or use a spell to fly us all.

Traveling on foot led to some danger, a defiled creature getting the jump on us. Nothing came about from it since I had the Lever-Action Arm Cannon in my grasp, fully loaded.

One shot rid the pest. More came out and took the brunt of my lever-action fury. If not that, I extended the Twin Vambrace Veteran Slicers from my left and cleared the way of defiled pestilence.

Eventually, we reached a single shimmering Realm Portal.

“The fastest way to get back to proper society is to exit an appropriate Portal and to return through the same,” Zez explained. “Thankfully, this one’s a Passage Portal. There’s usually plenty of those connected all over the Crossroads Citadel Realm, all maintained by Pathwalkers under High God Baldwin’s office.”

“Onward, then,” I urged.

“Wait,” Redfang squeaked. She shifted nervously before taking a deep breath and calming herself. “We need to hold a celebration. We … defeated the Embassy of Defilement in its entirety. The fourteen of us went against all of that. And that matters. So, we should celebrate it. Not just for the living…”

“But for the dead as well,” Weaver finished. “Yes, this is true, and I agree. It’s something I can work toward at least. I’ll just need a day to adjust before putting together a worthy celebration for us. We can even celebrate a certain few who are most likely going to become Veterans from this event.”

I wanted to say they didn’t have to include me, but I held my tongue. I already did the hard part as the leader.

“Elder Arden over there looks like he wants to deny his part,” Merlin jabbed.

“He wouldn’t dare. It will be a great celebration. And I’ll be more than sore with you if you aren’t honored. Besides, you’ll be our fabulous cook.” The firm frown on Weaver’s face wouldn’t brook no as an answer, and Velira smiled at that snappiness from her husband-to-be.

“I’ll be happy to cook,” I conceded.

“Yes, this is perfect. It is a worthy event to have. The God-Dragoness would smile proudly at us for this.” Kroker reached out to pat Redfang’s fuzzy leg. “That was very good thinking.”

“Thank you,” Redfang stuttered. “It’ll be good. For all of us. Maybe even Sharia and Zez’s family?”

Our Elder Veterans hesitated slightly.

I took to my role of playing the bad guy like I was born for it. “It’s best if we exclude their children for now. They weren’t there to fight after all. Now let’s get going. I’m done shooting and slicing at random defiled things.”

Urging them onward, I watched them go one-by-one. My hand found Grimmy’s shoulder. She was wearing simple leather armor and some basic clothing underneath now.

“It’s okay to mourn,” I told her.

“What if I’m mourning their absence? Of the living and the dead?” Grimmy asked.

“Mourn that too.” I patted her on the back, and she dawdled through the Portal.

Doomie walked with me while carrying Thumper. The roaring waterfall of dimensional magic passed over us before I landed in a stone courtyard in front of an ancient cathedral. I didn’t waste time acknowledging the notification in my System Logs, not when we were surrounded by Veterans and Demigods.

A plain-looking scribe-type in beige robes stood before us. He exuded the power of a Demigod, yet I didn’t care as I moved up to the front.

“High God Baldwin insists you pay him a visit,” the scribe said with some inflection.

“No,” I said.

“You cannot turn down a request from a High God.”

“You must be hard of hearing. Let me repeat myself. No.”

A powerful pressure landed on my shoulders. The scribe leaned forward while looking up to me. “Must I teach you your place, Young Pathwalker?”

“Perhaps you Traders should know your place?” a distinct voice that was recognizable to me spoke up. Turning to my right, I watched as Dead-On of all folks swaggered up out of the shadows. “Yeah, I know I’m looking like a caricature of an Assassin. But this time we got the type of credits with a direction we can’t refuse.”

Assassins melted out of the shadows from around the courtyard. I couldn’t feel their Grade of power. But I assumed the ones holding knives to the necks of the obvious Demigod Traders were Demigod Assassins.

If a fight broke out, the residual backlash of a conflict between Demigods would probably wipe out me and my squad. Yet, I remained the coolest person there as the Traders looked fretfully at the black-clothed and menacing Assassins.

“Dragon Princess?” I asked Dead-On.

“Yup, Dragon Princess. She wants to talk to you, by the way. I didn’t get to hear her myself. The orders came down from my elders. But damn, they made it seem like she’s got the voice of a smoking hottie.”

“Yeah, she’s hot. This is a fact. She’s also dangerous. She might be setting me up, letting me ripen, before she eats me alive. But hey, most men only live once.”

“True that, Sir Arden, true that,” Dead-On agreed as a few members of his organization, Assassins-For-You, chuckled along, even if menacingly.

My flippant frankness had the Traders looking away from the professional Assassins and gaping at me. I chuckled a little as Dead-On passed me multiple transcommunicator orbs I slipped into the storage pouches on Doomie’s hip-elevated belt. Once that exchange was done with, my focus returned to the situation at hand.

“Now … as for High God Baldwin’s request to have me see him. I shall take it under consideration. But first, my squad needs food, rest, and a celebration. I don’t know about any of you, but twelve Pathwalkers and two Veterans had just come back from taking out the entire Defiled Covenant in the Crossroads Citadel Realm, and that deserves some recognition. You’re welcome.”

I looked back at my squad, noting how none of them were cowed or afraid. Nodding at that, I glanced back at the Traders. I wasn’t done speaking, and the Assassins held them silent for me.

“Also, you must be truly without sense to think even a High God has unchallenged rights on my time. He doesn’t. Nobody does. Not the Dragon Princess. Not even the God-Queen herself.”

I stepped up until my damaged chestplate was in front of the short Demigod Trader. The smile on my face couldn’t help but be there when I realized the bookish fellow reminded me of Senior Codex.

“So, with all due respect, sir…” Trailing off, I dipped my head a little before continuing. “Please wait your turn and get the fuck out of my way.”