Path of the Slayer B3 14. Twists & Turns

“It was hard being a political doll,” Thumper said softly. “They paraded me around as bait for any loyalists to my royal line. I’m pretty sure there are half-giants who still uphold my family as the true heirs to the old kingdoms, back when there were a bunch of half-giant Realms that were more interconnected because of our reign.

“My family used to be in charge of all of that for multiple Cycles. Then there was a rebellion thousands of years ago, pushed by a rivaling private company with lots of credits. They funded a coup that actually worked. Slaughtered my people. Led to the kingdoms being consolidated into private states of the conglomerate.”

Thumper sighed. “My family lost badly, but we did all we could to survive. The Bloodlines persisted, especially the ones I have. We stayed in hiding, but then when I was three, they found us, dragged us out of our homes, and killed my parents.”

He hesitated before adding more in a small voice. “They killed my older sister because she tried to fight back. They killed my baby sister because it’s believed the Bloodlines can persist further with women. They kept me … for whatever messed up plans they had. They made sure with the Brand that I couldn’t use my powers directly until I hit Level 101.”

Thumper shuddered before shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “Then … I became Path of the Perfect Rogue and escaped. Or … they let me escape. I can’t say what’s true or not.”

“Well, okay, um, that’s freaking dark,” Merlin said slowly. “Crap. Uh. Sorry for not taking you more seriously before. Like, seriously, that’s crap of me.”

Thumper shrugged. “I did spring it on you guys suddenly.”

“Did they really mock you like that?” I asked. “The way you spoke toward Bortham was cruel, but only fair if it was true.”

“They did worse than mock me,” Thumper admitted.

I thought back to what the Perfect Rogue said after kissing Noodles:  “Congrats, you’re the first girl I’ve ever kissed of my own volition.”

My stomach flipped flopped. I’d avoided such things when I was an orphan. But I also knew that other orphans weren’t as lucky as me.

“I’m not sure if I should ask for the context,” Merlin said.

Thumper leaned over and told him about how the fight with the Gigantomachy squad had gone. He hid nothing from us, and I even learned more about what Thumper had done to bring down Bortham. When least expected, the Perfect Rogue had really tricked the naturally more powerful half-giant into suffering the martial void fang strike.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Merlin shook his head. “I feel bad now for, uh, having fun and celebrating while you were dealing with that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad your Brand is gone.” Thumper clapped Merlin on the back. Then he turned toward me. “Also, Arden, I hope you know what you’ve done for me means a lot. We, uh, come from different walks of life, I guess. But you’ve treated me so well it’s sometimes kinda surprising. I owe you so much for this.”

I reached over and squeezed Thumper’s arm. “Well, it’s like I said earlier. We’re helping each other. But as we help each other, I think all three of us are at the point where we’re willing to go further for each other beyond what’s transactional. It has me thinking of something…”

My words failed me as I hesitated. Through force of will, I spoke up again. “It has me thinking of something cultural I want to share with you two. And then after that, I think I can say it.”

Both Thumper and Merlin straightened away from the railing suddenly. Thumper’s waterfall of black hair turned blonde and parted to reveal his wide silver eyes. Merlin’s mouth hung slightly ajar.

Then the two leaned toward each other.

“Is he going to invite us to the cookout?” Merlin whispered loudly.

“Dude, don’t joke. It’s pretty serious when a nomad does that,” Thumper whispered in return, also loudly.

I shook my head at these silly bastards of mine. Even when I could barely understand them half the time, a part of me wanted to laugh anyway. I held it in for this once, though.

The cultural nomad aspects were that serious for me.

Before I could say more, Grimmy ran up to us. She skidded to a stop and bowed deeply at the waist. Then she straightened with a bounce, a big smile beaming from her little green face.

“This junior has good news for the elders!” Before either of her elders could say anything, Grimmy blurted it out with sheer excitement. “I went up from Level 79 to Level 82, and I got a new Great Skill: Team Player Flow!”

I wanted to shush the silly girl, but something caught all of our attention. A powerful presence bounded from on top of a fortress set on the large ramparts of a crooked wall looming over us.

The four of us looked up and prepared for a fight until Zez shouted out.

“Sharia, hello!”

With a loud thunk that had the entire vessel groaning and shaking, a seven-foot-tall and shapely half-orc woman landed on the main deck.

Adorned on her body were large pauldrons, a scaled vest, a chain skirt that was parted on the sides, and thick metal greaves on top of open-toed boots. It wasn’t practical whatsoever, but the armor emitted intense magical enchantments that didn’t care about being practical. Being strictly practical was for those far weaker and more mortal than this woman.

Other than that, most of her dark green flesh was exposed except for the myriad tribal tattoos flowing down the lengths of her limbs and along her neck. Tethered to her back was a large battle axe, and it remained there as she scooped up her ratkin husband and kissed him deeply. Then she placed him down, scooted him behind her long legs gently, and turned toward the quarterdeck.

“Which one of you is Arden?” Her voice came packed with power, resounding over me, Merlin, Thumper, and Grimmy.

With no hesitation, I stepped forward.

“Off the ship now.” Sharia pointed toward a dilapidated courtyard filled with cracked statues. “I need to see what you’re made of. And for us to have an understanding.”

I was turning toward the spot she indicated when Merlin quickly disrobed himself with telekinesis.

Then after five seconds, he was dressed in his Overcharger Wizard Armor. Thumper was already in his Hokage Rogue Armor, so he merely pulled his cowl over his head, his face hidden by the magic shade.

By that point, the Dragon Gunship had veered toward the courtyard and settled into a low hover.

“You don’t have to,” I told them.

“We gotta earn our way into the cookout, right?” Merlin asked. “I feel like we’re almost there, but not quite. I don’t want to miss out.”

“Arden, you can’t really tell us to stand back and let you get your ass kicked alone. We’re in this together, dude,” Thumper said.

The Perfect Rogue lunged up onto the railing before hopping off completely. The Owl Dragon floated after him.

With a shake of my head, I looked down at Grimmy’s eager face.

“No,” I grunted. “Wait and watch with the others. Your elders might be able to show you a thing or two even up against overwhelming odds.”

Grimmy frowned up at me before letting out an unhappy breath. Then she nodded resolutely, which was relieving for me.

I bounded off the vessel and slammed down next to my friends. Doomie flapped her wings quietly as I unraveled more of her power with some restraint.

At this point, my soul was feeling weary, much more than my body.

We had fifty-seven days until the Grand Generational Passing. Twenty-six days before the citadel tour needed to end. Three days before the start of the local tournament.

I could vaguely remember the last time I had meditated and relaxed. We’d been going nonstop for what felt like a long time.

Hurtling down like a meteorite, Sharia slammed to a stop, forming a crater under her feet. She didn’t bother drawing her battleaxe as she faced the three of us on the broken courtyard.

The mist and moonlight hung over us. The shattered remains of numerous statues surrounded us on all sides. By the time this beatdown would be over, the courtyard and its remnant decorations would be obliterated.

“I love Zez,” the half-orc woman grumbled. “I love him so much it hurts. Makes me weak. Makes me less of a Raider in a lot of ways. And I’m fine with that as long as I have my Zez.”

More power emanated from Sharia. “But you … are a threat to Zez. You’re bringing him down to be corrupted by your damn Quest. I might as well risk negative karma and kill you now. Better that than falling to the Defiled Covenant.”

“We can win,” I said.

“Yeah, we can,” Merlin backed me.

Thumper drew out his Wolf Commander Fangs for the first time in a long time.

Sharia roared. “Prove it! Show me what you got! And if you don’t have what it takes, I’ll rip out your hearts and eat them!”

The three of us braced ourselves to fight a powerful Veteran. I imagined her being in the Level 140s or maybe even higher.

There was no winning this for us. But we could certainly leave an impression, couldn’t we?

Then someone … or something … got in the way.

“Hey! Wait!”

A disheveled man ran into the courtyard from one of the adjacent routes under the walls. He was sweaty. His noble clothing was in disarray and dirty, as if he’d been running at a mad pace to keep up with us.

Scanning him, I vaguely recognized the huffing man as someone from the Auction House. He was human, but something was certainly off about him as he came to a stumbling stop.

“Woo! Ha! Man, what a run. But it’ll be worth it though.”

The stranger looked specifically at me with a big and toothy smile beaming out of his sweaty face.

“Yeah, it’s going to be really worth it! Because I got the go-ahead. I can finally unleash myself. And it’s all thanks to you, Arden the Nomad!”

“Sharia!” Zez shouted from aboard the floating ship with the observant juniors. The ratkin Veteran sounded worried. “You know what that man is! Maybe you should intervene!”

“No,” Sharia grunted. “This is actually perfect. If they die, then they die, and we’ll run away as far as we can.”

The odd and disheveled man laughed like a loon, making the threat of Sharia’s wrath smaller somehow.

My heart raced faster in my chest. Merlin’s nervous gaze switched from the threatening Raider Veteran to the newest. And Thumper revealed the truth to the rest of us ignorant Pathwalkers.

“Guys, get ready. This is gonna be a hard one. I think we’re up against a Nemesis.”

I knew that Path. Paige had mentioned it before. Path of the Nemesis – a bane to us Slayers, a far worse challenge than appeasing the anger of a Zez’s Raider wife.

The messy man shrieked.

“Yes! Yes! You’re right! And I’m all keyed up for Arden the Nomad thanks to my mistress! I can feel it already! There’s something amazing coming from you, Arden! And I, Rory, Path of the Nemesis, am gonna murder you for it! I’ll Ruin What You Rely On!”

The Nemesis screamed with hyper insane thrill before his voice changed and became a monstrous howl.

A power unlike any other brushed over me, and my Path Energy reacted with rage and defiance. Doomie moved her wings with more vigor and aggression, clearly displeased. My Slayer Intent tried to shove the foreign and invasive power away, but something even bigger reinforced the power.

Something divine. Something like the System, yet not of the System I knew, as if it was a dark and secret parameter that belonged solely to the Nemesis. A distinct notification in my System Logs crystalized the truth even further.

[Oh no! You have been designated as the primary target of a Nemesis! All allies that help you will only make the Nemesis stronger!]

Just like that, Rory had me, leading to the next moment.

His clothes ripped off his body as he grew larger, reaching eight feet in height. His flesh turned reddish and rocky. His muscles bulged to ridiculous dimensions. His power exploded, going further beyond mine, beyond Merlin’s, and beyond Thumper’s.

Combined.

Then, with an explosive lung, Rory left a deep crater in the broken floor behind him. His grotesque body was a missile flying at us while aimed specifically for me.