Path of the Slayer B3 38. Gods & Worlds

There was nothing weirder for me than seeing Rankers below Rank 4.

I had trouble understanding Dinky’s fragility until Thumper leaned over and whispered the exact Rank into my ear.

Apparently, Dinky was Rank 2, and yes, if I sneezed on him, he would die. If any of us moved too fast or too hard close to him, he would die.

Hell, Grimmy had only flicked away his spear with a finger and pushed him down as gently as possible, and she still ended up breaking ribs. After the tower doors shut behind us, we got moving, with Dinky limping down the trail as our guide.

Without having to be asked, Kroker reached out with his healing energy. He fixed the little Ranker up as easily as snapping his fingers.

It was good to have a healing Cleric – especially with a Royal Quest like ours.

But that didn’t take away from the real threat of accidental collateral damage.

“I would’ve preferred an inn at the very least,” Weaver complained stuffily.

“No,” I said.

The drider let out a melodramatic groan as if I’d slaughtered his entire family. Velira scooted closer to his side and held his arm as if to shield him from my tyranny.

“I want to hold a Rank 1,” whined Redfang, her metal-coated armor shifting smoothly like a second-skin as she pranced – carefully – around the squad. The half-gnoll’s every step sent local tremors through the ground still, shaking the nearest trees and nearly throwing our little Rank 2 guide off his feet. “What if I’m really, really, really gentle? Like holding a baby, but more gentle than that?”

“No,” I said.

Redfang groaned, her voice resounding far across the many forests and farmlands, sending birds flying and little animals fleeing. She reached out mindlessly and grabbed a boulder ten times larger than her before flicking it at a nearby lake.

A large splash shot up into the air, with powerful waves smacking the banks.

Having seen that, Dinky gasped for air, barely staying steady enough to walk.

Around a bend of trees, a few other guardsmen appeared. Dinky called out to them for help, but the other guards took one look at us and turned to run away. Dinky remained alone as our guide.

Sighing, I shook my head, my dreadlocks flailing. Not only were the Rankers weak, but the atmosphere on this floor was weak.

The gravity was weak. The materials were weak. Everything felt flimsy, easy to break, and almost unreal.

Our every motion was impactful, too.

Syleth flicking out her fork tongue sounded like whip cracks. Marnarka’s softest steps caused localized earthquakes unless she wasted Path Energy to stop that. Brug turned to sneeze and blew a few trees out of the ground, roots and all.

Noodles’ every snicker was like looming thunderclaps, and her murderous mood actually tainted the air darker above her. I smacked the neko lightly on her helmet, my metal knuckles sounding like cannonballs meeting a metal barricade.

Dinky dropped to the floor and covered his ears after that light interaction. Ignoring him, I gave the neko a meaningful glare, but instead of giving in, she stood her ground and hissed a little.

“Let me have the criminals, at least,” Noodles growled softly. “I haven’t gotten to play properly in a while. And I like playing with weaklings. They’re fun.”

“You’re serious?” I asked slowly.

She lowered her head a little, her ears drooping. “Yes. I’m seriously trying to be good and not a bother. But I really, really need my fix, please, Elder Arden.”

With another gusting sigh, I turned toward Dinky and spoke softly, slowly. “Got any surefire murderers and rapists? The absolute worst scum ever?”

The little half-gob guide jumped to his feet while doing all he could to stop from trembling in our presence. “Yes, we do! Over in the city, from what I’ve heard. Our adventurers busted a whole criminal dark world. Got a bunch of those bastards. There was going to be a big show of their death sentence this weekend. Surely, we can offer them as sacrifices to you, my gods and goddesses.”

“Nice! Anyone want to join?” Noodles asked, turning to the others.

“Hm. I can use a squirming snack,” Weaver said.

“If they’re small enough, I wouldn’t mind. Been a while since I’ve had a whole living meal like that,” Syleth said, completely ignoring Merlin’s head snapping around.

Even with his face concealed by the helmet of his bonded armor, it was obvious that he was expressing his patented open-mouthed gawk.

The others looked at me, and I shrugged. “I won’t stop you.”

Grimmy, Redfang, Brug, and even Sharia made a request to enjoy some mortal sacrifices. Clearly, the wilder folks were all game, except for Kroker.

“Such temptations weaken the temple that is your body,” said the half-kobold Cleric.

“I did cannibalism before. It’s not bad. It tastes better when you’re a Pathwalker and they’re a Ranker,” Grimmy said, smiling like it’s a casual thing to eat other folks. Some others agreed.

Shaking my head, I caught Dinky’s pale green face and wide horrified eyes centered on Grimmy. I hadn’t missed that he looked smitten with her. I supposed that illusion of Grimmy in his head was shattered now.

He hurriedly took us to an abandoned barn that probably wouldn’t last the next few hours while we relaxed, ate actual food, and waited on Ranker sacrifices.

It was also a decent enough spot for us to rotate our meditation times and reinforce our souls. The Embassy of Defilement was only one floor below us now.

Though, there was one thing on my to-do list before tackling the Royal Quest. I could feel it on this floor – the connection to the Slayer Sanctum.

“I want to go see,” Thumper murmured, standing in a shady spot near the open barn doors.

Everybody was mostly sitting on bales of hay or on the ground. There was a second floor, but nobody bothered going up on it. Too easy to break.

“You want to go see what?” Merlin asked, lounging comfortably on a living bed made from Syleth’s coiled lower body.

“A town of Rank 1s,” Thumper admitted. “I think it’ll be good to see them directly. We’re going to be full-on Gods if we survive long enough. Part of being on that Grade means ruling over folks, so it’ll be a good idea to walk among them and just coexist.”

Surprisingly, Brug piped up. “I don’t think I can. I’m not that good at controlling my power like that. Being here makes me, uh, uncomfortable.”

A few others nodded along with the honest half-orc.

“It’s a little annoying, I find it,” Velira said, making tea for herself and Weaver.

She’d offered to make some for the rest of us, but we all knew best to decline. She had to work hard to get it just perfect for the drider.

Brow furrowed in intense concentration, the elf spoke on. “Forgive me for being frank, but we shouldn’t have to interact with, well, lowly Rankers. We can govern from afar and use emissaries. That’s why Rank 4s and Rank 5s exist, especially Rank 5s. They’re not made for the brutal and combative climb further up to godhood. Instead, they are to be our servants, or at least the servants of lesser Pathwalkers who are more naturally positioned to serve higher Pathwalkers. That is the natural way of things.”

I sighed aloud. “I hate it when you talk like that.”

“Eek!” Velira nearly spilled the tea.

I carried on. “But you’re not exactly wrong.”

“Maybe we should stay here. Stay away. I don’t mind them, and I would hate to crush them,” Marnarka said. “They’re so vulnerable. If they were Rank 3 at least, it would be easier. But it’s mostly Rank 1s. And I’m so big and heavy…”

The half-minotaur let out a low bellow of stress. Redfang darted over, the half-gnoll hugging her larger friend.

“We were all Rank 1s once,” Veteran Zez said softly, while held lovingly in his wife’s arms. He reached up and stroked a finger on her tusk. “I remembered the times I ran for dear life when hungry Pathwalkers came around for sacrifices. Funny how I married one who practiced such.”

“Sorry, honey,” Veteran Sharia mumbled. “I’ll turn it down, if you want. I haven’t done that in a while. But blood and guts is part of a Raider’s way.”

“I know, and it’s okay. Just make it quick, dear. That’s all I ask. Even scum should be treated with some decency.”

“I’m not making mine quick,” Noodles grouched. “I gotta have my fun. It is what it is.”

“As long as it’s the baddest baddies, right?” Redfang insisted. “Nobody should feel sorry for them.”

“Indeed,” Syleth added, rubbing a hand over Merlin’s chest.

“Wrong,” Kroker said, surprising everyone. The little half-kobold emitted a palpable force as he spoke fervently. “We are not that far from the mortals you look upon as treats. In fact, I dare say we are still mortal ourselves. We are still ants. We hold no true power. We are but motes in the cosmic hoard held by the God-Dragoness, and it is she who truly decides our fates, our worth. It is she who allows us to think ourselves powerful, when we are truly at her whims, and such whims can snuff us far easier than we can snuff a Rank 0. This is an undeniable truth.”

Kroker was mostly alone in his belief that the God-Queen was a big dragon. Other than that, his words rang with such sharpened truth, he cut deep into most of the squad.

“Yeah, well, that goes back to my point,” Thumper muttered. 

“I wonder…” My thoughts spiraled, and the pressure of doom increased inside of me.

Something about this conversation was aggravating to me, but I couldn’t understand why. I held no mercy for criminal scum. But there was something else I was curious about.

Everybody became more attentive to my next words. But nothing came out. Instead, I stood and walked out with the utmost of control.

Then I did something daring – I dismissed my Stormcannon Dominator Armor. Under that, I had a casual and fitted shirt above a pair of leggings.

Next, I gave Hellion a brief “see you later” and dismissed him as well. A simple Exquisite Rank 5 half arm, taken from a pouch on my belt, served as a temp replacement.

My feet remained bare, which didn’t seem like a problem. The ground was extremely soft here.

I didn’t get far when Thumper and Merlin showed up beside me, each of them out of their bonded armor. They both adorned themselves quickly with more appropriate clothing other than their undergarments.

We didn’t have to say a word about what we were doing. We were little godlings going out to mingle with the mortals and get some perspective.

“There ain’t no way we can pull this off without causing trouble,” Merlin insisted, a smoking pipe hanging casually from his mouth. Was it me, or did he seem more grounded lately?

It might be because of that new Brand of his. I still wasn’t sure how to approach that in a conversation.

“I’m betting on there being trouble. In fact, we should face it and see how we can handle it,” Thumper suggested, his dark hair turning light, parting like a curtain. Out came the royal prince.

Neither me nor Merlin questioned him about revealing his true self.

“What if I can do it without violence or intimidation?” I asked.

Both of them looked at me doubtfully.

I scoffed in return. “Well, there’s supposed to be plenty of Rankers, right? I’m sure I’ll get some practice.”

Thumper reached back to fix his hair behind his shoulders into a long yellow ponytail. “Oh, yeah, there’s a lot of them all right. More than you’re seeing in this one room.”

Merlin went on to explain even without his soapbox. “This is just one room of many on this one floor. Because of spatial magic, or just plain dimensional Realm magic, there can be thousands of other rooms just like this with slight variations or large differences.”

Merlin waved one hand about. “For example, this place probably won’t produce much of anything significant. It’s fairly peaceful and simple. You won’t get cultists here like we’ve seen up on the Castle Mountain Challenge Floor. But it’s just one of many, almost like how a farmer would have multiple sections of crops.”

“That would explain why the tower doors were closed, and how the guards weren’t expecting us if this place is one of the lesser Ranker sections,” I said. “Does that mean if we reach a certain spot in the wall, we could move laterally into another pocket world?”

“Yup,” Thumper said.

Merlin nodded. “This is just one way of handling it in a high enough World Realm. Other World Realms might hold their Rankers in boxes. Or they might have Rankers in bubbles. Or they might have Rankers in interconnected towers. Each World Realm can diverge drastically once the God or High God in charge makes it strong enough. Though, that depends on if they want to put their time into ruling over a Realm.”

I arched my eyebrow. “Wait, is there a different option?”

Both Thumper and Merlin gave each other a knowing look. Then they turned to smile at me smarmily before saying some of the most annoying words I could hear.

“Wait and see.”