Chapter 33

The path to the village appeared devoid of life. All the critters Diya had spotted the night before had left tracks heading away from the lizard men’s new home.

Was it internal strife?

Given their numbers, the chances of a monster attacking them were low. If something powerful enough to take on an entire village roamed the woods, the rodents wouldn’t be so careless. They had appeared blissfully unaware of everything but their food.

Diya heard metal clashing metal as he approached the settlement. He slowed down after spotting the knee-high stone border. They must have built it after his passing. Lights flashed beyond it, momentarily illuminating speeding scaled and feathery figures. It was still mostly dark in the little clearing, so Diya snuck up to the edge to get a clear picture.

A party of Climbers in De Lawney colour fought the lizard men. A dozen reptiles lay on the ground, dead or crippled. They had missing limbs or deep lacerations that leaked and turned the formerly dry soil muddy. It wasn’t just the beasts that had suffered a casualty, though. Two of the seven Climbers lay motionless, and one sat clutching the spear sticking out of his abdomen. His screams merged with the squawks, screeches and coos, blending into a mad cacophony.

The De Lawney house didn’t have the most stellar of reputations. Diya wasn’t looking forward to dealing with them once he reached the fifth floor. They controlled the local resources and most of the known gates. Apparently, any climber not allied with them had to pay a tax if they wanted to ascend to the following interval. Diya especially disliked them for their close relationships with the Anson household.

Of the four Climbers that continued to fight, two were male and the rest female. One of the women didn’t wear the recognisable red and black crest of two interlocking shields. Unlike the others, her wide eyes frantically scanned the surroundings, probably looking for an exit. Diya watched silently, trying to figure out the party dynamic as her arrow missed a sling-wielding lizard man. She was much too well dressed to be a porter.

When another Climber fell, the rest fell back against a hut, tightening their formation around the injured party member. It made little sense. The lizard men had strength and speed but no discipline. Diya couldn’t figure out why a proper group was struggling against them. The two people in front had upgraded souls. One used a shield that occasionally sent out a repulsive force, staggering anyone who charged at them. The other had a large-armoured feline next to them—most likely a summon specialised in defence. Their brand-new, high-end equipment hadn't helped much either.

Diya got his answer following another clash between the still-fighting trio and the lizard men. The shield-bearer pushed back the four lizard men that came rushing at him. Three of them had overcommitted to their assault and found themselves thrown onto their bottoms. The feline soul and his spear-wielding master jumped at the opportunity to take them out. He skewered one through the abdomen before hopping back behind the vanguard.

Meanwhile, his soul mauled the other two. The former's unstable footwork gave away his fatigue. Then a golden light blossomed from the lizard men's back line. It washed through the settlement, hugging every bipedal reptile along the way. Of the three felled beasts, two stood back up. Then a lightning bolt shot down from the sky, striking the armoured cat. It hissed, jumping backwards, and its master's skin got more pallid.

Diya's heart dropped. It wasn't the De Lawney party's plight that disheartened him but the shaman's power set. Any monster card it produced would most likely not have the best compatibility with the fountain pen. At the same time, it would be as valuable as Eirkh's. Diya considered leaving or hiding out until the Climbers all fell—he had no interest in saving the Anson family's allies. But then he looked at the lone woman's face. He got the vibe that she had no interest in being there. It was rare for a member of the nobility not to flash their house colours.

Is she an unwilling participant?

Diya knew that his conscience wouldn't forgive him if he let her die, too. Perhaps he'd find a benefactor while at it if she were someone important or of wealth.

The last of the lizard men joined the fight, probably planning on rushing the Climbers. The beasts were playing safe and would undoubtedly win a war of attrition, thanks to the shaman. Fortunately for Diya, they left him alone. The hunched, staff-wielding reptile stood far behind the tribe with a smug look on his face. The fools weren't expecting an opportunistic individual like him. So, Diya snuck around the settlement's exterior, making a beeline for the shaman.

The glowing staff had come to life and had two little spheres revolving around the ornamental top. One glowed with a warm golden light. The other had tiny strands of lightning crackling around it. Diya knew better than to greed for the staff. It was no more than a conduit for the beast's power. The real power lay in the creature’s magic core and knowledge. He could only hope the resulting card would give him power.

Baba often warned his students never to underestimate a humanoid beast's martial abilities. Just because they stuck to the back lines didn't mean a shaman or soul caller didn't know how to fight. Their age had taught them how to weave magic into their martial abilities, making them extra dangerous. So, Diya approached the shaman from the rear, holding his axe in his right hand and his soul in the other. A breathing exercise helped him stay calm as he snuck up on the lizard man. He worried his attack wouldn't be as easy as it seemed. There had to be a guard or pet waiting to jump him.

It was easy.

The lizard men attacked the Climbers all at once. Diya couldn't discern their fate from where he stood but going by the sounds. It wasn't good. He couldn't have helped them even if he wanted to. A monstrous shock wave pulsed outwards from the shield-wielder, throwing the reptilian beasts around like rag dolls. Instead of healing his people, the shaman released a bolt of lightning. It shot forwards before breaking apart and dancing towards every bit of metal, hitting friend and foe alike. Fortunately, Diya was behind the attack, and it ignored him. He ran in and brought the axe down on the shaman's head with a one-handed swing. For good measure, he planted the fountain pen in the monster's neck too.

It came as no surprise when the shaman collapsed like a tower of cards. Before turning towards the other lizard men, Diya touched the silver light rising from the creature’s chest. He got one monster card. The artwork was clear and as bright as Eirkh’s. Diya suspected it would get him a brilliant price or trade—he had little hope of it having decent compatibility with the fountain pen. Neither healing nor lightning went with its general theme.

The sound of fighting had died down. Fortunately, the lightning attack and shield-users blast had taken most of the lizard men. He turned his attention back towards the Climbers, hoping the woman had survived.

She had.

The woman stood panting against the hut, her bow and quiver on the ground. Neither of the two De Lawney fighters was on their feet. The shield-user lay on the ground, his armour a smoking heap. Meanwhile, the feline soul's master sat not far away, looking moments from death. The giant cat didn't appear to have suffered any injuries, but cracks covered the soul's bone armour. Diya guessed restoring the protections had severely drained the owner. Her unfocused eyes stared at her companion's remains. The final Climber, the one with the abdomen injury, appeared just as pale.

"Where are you going, Gwyneth?" The injured Climber asked when the bowman collected her effects and left their midst. The lizard men were dead or unconscious and no longer a threat.

"Getting out of here," Gwyneth answered.

"You can't just run away," the feline soul's master said. "We're a party. We came here to get you a Core and protected you—"

"I'm your prisoner, Marge! Only Liam was nice to me." She poked the shield-wielder with her foot. "And I'm pretty sure he's dead. I never wanted to be a healer for the house. You can't force me to join you!"

"Don't forget your father's debts," Marge continued. "You belong to the De Lawney family."

"They were his! Not mine. The city has outlawed indentured servitude. Just because you won't let me leave the tower doesn't mean you can evade the law forever. I'm leaving, and there is nothing you can do about it." Gwyneth turned to Diya. "Who are you?"

"Not too keen on disclosing my identity to strangers," Diya yelled from across the settlement, the monster card still in his hand.  "Especially after I claimed this."

"That card is the property of the De Lawney household." Marge's protest came out hoarse and cracked.

"That's precisely why I'd rather keep my distance. You lot would've died if I didn't kill the shaman. Perhaps I should've waited for him to finish his follow-up spell before going in."

“Do you know who we are?” Marge screamed.

“Yes,” Diya answered. “But do you know who I am?”

She fell silent, glaring at him.

“Good. Besides, I doubt you’ll make it out of the tower alive.”

Gwyneth wove her way through the fallen lizard men towards Diya. Her pale knuckles further whitened as she clenched her bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. "Help me get to a hub," she said. "I'll trade you for the card, too."

Marge crawled over to Liam and searched his person. "That's not your property to trade!" She yelled, trying to get back up, but her legs failed her. She collapsed in a heap. "Please, Gwyn. You can't leave us here. Gregory will bleed out, and if argonians from the main settlement get here, I'm done for. That fight took too much out of me."

"I’m sorry, Marge, but I don't have much of a choice," she said. "You'll drag me back to one of the encampments or report to the others in the primary hub. The family worked Arthur to death, and I won't let you do the same to me." Gwyneth returned her attention to Diya. "Just help me reach a gate. I'll do anything!" She fished a monster card out of her jacket. Marge raised her voice again, asking Gwyneth how she took it off Liam but didn't get an answer. "This is probably more powerful than whatever you got there. I'll give it to you for the shaman's card and passage out of Gaia's Ark."

Diya looked between her and the two disabled climbers. He needed to know more about the card, but it sounded like a good enough deal. Diya was happy to escort her out of the tower for nothing, but he wanted to inspect the cards at an upgrade station before agreeing to a trade.

"Let's discuss terms as we walk," Diya said. He got a good feeling from Gwyneth. It was most likely because of her projected hatred towards the house she served. It wasn't unheard of for powerful houses to trap Climbers with useful souls into servitude. The De Lawney employees yelled after them as they exited the settlement, towards the old campsite.

"What would you like to discuss?" Gwyneth asked after Marge's sobbing was out of earshot. The sounds had pulled at Diya's heartstrings, but he managed to stay strong. People committed too many atrocities, claiming it was what they were told to do. He tried to convince himself that her fate wasn't his responsibility, but he was sure that his conscience would have more to say come bedtime. Besides, transporting two injured individuals is never safe. They'd be forced to slow and most likely invite trouble by helping them.

"Tell me about your soul first," Diya said. "Why would the De Lawneys go through the trouble of assigning you a protection detail—"

"Prison detail." Gwyneth slipped in the correction, keeping her eyes on Diya's hands. She most likely didn't trust him, and he didn't blame her for it.

"Fine. Prison detail. As far as I know, the houses don't go through that much trouble for just any soul."

"They don't." Gwyneth sighed. "Do you know anything about hollow souls?"

"You mean the paper by Arthur Frie?" Diya asked. "Seemed a tad optimistic but made me feel better for sure. I very much like the concept of there being no such thing as a junk soul."

"I can see you've got one of those yourself," she said, looking down at Diya's right arm. It was then he realised that his sleeves had ripped, exposing most of his bruised forearms. The padding had done a hell of a job keeping him safe, but the slime lord's gastric juices had damaged them too much. "Arthur Frie was my father. He was an academic with too many bad habits. As a result, he ended up indebted to the De Lawneys." She looked away while talking about her father—eyes drifting to the floor. "Either way, Arthur believed that hollow tool souls are just as powerful as the other types. They appear weaker because they are empty and rely on their master to give them purpose. Unlike a standard tool soul, they are super reliant on their first upgrade and occasionally manifest in two halves. Occasionally, they’ll have blank slots too. It gives them shape and purpose, defining how the rest of their progress will be."

Gwyneth pulled up her sleeve, exposing her tattoo. When she ran her finger along it, a head-sized metal lamp manifested, floating in front of her.

"This is mine. It has two parts: the metal casing and the light within. This light is the hollow bit of my soul. It can upgrade with almost any card, but Arthur discovered such ephemeral elements can do wonders with a soul caller or shaman's powers."

"Let me guess," Diya said. "The De Lawneys wanted to experiment using your soul? A lamp that casts a healing light can be used to power not just a party but a small army."

"They weren't experimenting using me," Gwyneth replied. "They already succeeded once using Arthur's flute. After he passed, they decided that I should take his place. We trailed that troupe of lizard men for weeks, but the shaman didn't display his lightning-calling powers once. The party rushed in with incomplete information and paid for it."

Diya found it odd that Gwyneth referred to her father by name. Instead of pondering on it, he focused on her voice, looking for inflexions. Diya couldn't figure out whether or not she was lying. The exchange had come across as genuine, but he didn't like how eager Gwyneth had been to ditch her party. It sounded like she had been on good terms with the shield-bearer but had expressed no grief following his demise. She had stolen the offered monster card off him too.

"If the shaman's card can give me offensive or utility lightning spells, I'll have the ability to defend myself," Gwyneth continued. "Then no noble house or their lackeys can force me into servitude."

"Let’s get to an upgrade station first," Diya said. "I'd like to check my soul's compatibility before agreeing to a trade. You don't have to pay me to escort you out. I only ask that you use the bow and arrows to fight by my side if anything attacks us."

"What noble house do you work for? Gwyneth asked after a brief silence.

"I never said I worked for any of them."

"That's true, but Arthur's works weren't widely published. I imagine only libraries owned by a house or corporation would have a copy."

Diya studied the woman for a second. She posed little physical threat. If she attacked him, he knew he'd have little trouble putting her down. If anything, he had made enemies of the De Lawneys—igivenGwyneth's former party survived to report the incident.

"The Boleyns. My father works for them, and I grew up in their household."

"But you're not in their employ?"

"No," he answered. "I'm climbing independently until I find suitable upgrades for my soul."

Gwyneth's eyes drifted to the exposed tattoo on Diya's forearm. “Which is why you want to visit an upgrade station first.” She grabbed his hand and rolled his sleeve up. “It’s the inkwell, isn’t it?”

“How can you tell—”

“I’ve grown up reading Arthur's work,” she answered before I finished my question. “The tattoo clearly highlights two distinctive parts.” Gwyneth’s fingers ran over the fountain pen’s body and the lines within it. “That’s not just art.” She traced the vertical pattern. “It tells me that there is more going on than just an upgradable barrel and nib. I don’t know if you find it as fascinating as I do, but fluid and abstract elements are rare in souls. Mine is lamplight, and yours is ink.” She sighed. “What I’m trying to say is that the shaman’s card won’t have decent compatibility with your soul. It’s perfect for mine, though.”

“We’ll see about that,” Diya said, finally silencing her.