The orcs are savage, but do not confuse them to be savages. In my years fighting them, the only consistent weakness of their people has been their overwhelming urge to fight and die. They care nothing for true victory. They care little for each other or an overarching war effort. Their kind cooperates, but they do not ally. Likewise, they butcher each other as much as they do us—and their forces are less an army and more a horde of hyper-intelligent serial killers that simply enjoy the finer aspects of bloodshed.

But this does not leave them without culture. Indeed, the orcs are a curious race. Should you capture one, they will compliment you, they will speak to you, discuss the music and culture they have experienced across all the realms. And should they find an opportunity, they will break free and brutally kill you. But until then, they are perfectly capable of being affable.

Because this is just a matter of passing enjoyment to them. Every orc returns in some fashion—inheriting memories from their previous incarnation. It is not uncommon for orcs to reincarnate over and over, raiding the same world purely for pleasure or obsession. This is also how we have discovered the strangeness of their skills, which is shaped by their bestial nature, but also a mimicry of another’s cultural expression…

And this is the more insidious danger of facing an orc. And of earning one’s favor. Because they are imprinted upon by an adversary they find worthy, and, under rare circumstances, an orc may choose you as their “Vaketh-Bakal.”

This can be loosely translated as Nemesis-Beloved.

This occurs when their God compels the System to bequeath an “Orcish Attunement” on the Vaketh-Bakal. An attunement which, if nourished further with violence, inflicts a state of ever-building rage and eventually even bestows the Pathbearer an Orcish Skill—one that mirrors a skill the Pathbearer already possesses.

This could be anything, like an Adept-Tier Sword Proficiency Skill, or something not even remotely violence-focused. Whatever the new skill may be, it will, in a sense, be like the orcs themselves. Immense. Heavy. Crushing. But cultured.

The dangerous thing here is how the skill grows and influences the Pathbearer. Minor annoyance is magnified into anger. Rage builds and constantly grows. Then comes the casual urge toward bloodlust, which becomes an itch—a need. Only by going on a prolonged fast from violence can the Pathbearer be cleansed of the influence. That, or in rare cases, mastering their rage, bending the skill to their will, and fusing the Orcish Skill to the original it infests. This creates something that retains the strength of the Orcish Skill while cleansing the constant urge toward brutality.

Failure to do so will eventually end in madness and a new template being formed. From there, a new orc is born in their miserable “Tutorial” dimension, and they take the title of 1…

–To Slay the Warborn: A Primer on Orc Combat

43 (I)

Fever

Skill Evolution: Hypersense (Adept) > Seer of Horizons (Heroic)

Skill Evolution: Toughness (Initiate) > Repulsion Shroud (Adept)

Seer of Horizons > 101

Repulsion Shroud > 51

Hydromancy > 44

Deadeye > 91

Bowslinger > 88

Skybearer’s Strength > 56

Tactical Overseer > 77

Wings of the Starhawk > 90

The world returned to Adam as the last fragment of his broken mind snapped back into place. His consciousness came alight as notifications about Skill Evolutions and levels rushed through him. Adam shouted in pain and tried to clutch his head, but he found himself restrained—held in place by dense bands of metal.

Skybearer’s Strength was a thing that granted immense aerial agility and gave one the ability to resist the lurching pull of gravity when performing flying maneuvers. It was the result of him attaining Wings of the Starhawk as a Skill Evolution first. But Skybearer’s Strength wasn’t that great when it came to breaking out of what felt like titanium bands clamped over his body.

“Adept—Adept Adam. Stop struggling. You have not been captured.” The voice was firm but calm.

Adam blinked several times as the last of the blurriness shrouding his eyes cleared. Several thick metal restraints were holding him in place. He looked up and saw various Weaveresses, Umbrals, and automata gathered around him. A few of them were Biomancers, he could tell that by the white coats they wore, but there was also Uva and two Weaveresses that bore focus crystal helmets looking down at him. His body felt like a nest of pain and agony. There were patches of his mind that still felt fractured, memories that he couldn’t access without severe pain.

“What… what happened?” Adam groaned. He blinked and looked around. White room. Webs holding items and machinery in place. Yeah, this was Cradle. Broken Moon, back here again… They should get me a permanent room at this rate.

“Your idiocy came bearing ill consequences,” Uva said flatly and coldly. “You distracted the Jealousy and led it on a chase around Compact territory for about fifteen hours with all your clones. Then its Psychomancy field briefly touched your mind, and I almost broke mine trying to stop it from hollowing you out completely. But thankfully and coincidentally, my team and Still Water’s Shadow Cell were not near the gate and did not set off a series of explosives, luring it back to its original position, making it assume the gate was under attack.”

“Ah,” Adam coughed. “Thank you, Sister Uva. And thank the Ascendants none of your people were anywhere near that gate.” Her stare was piercing and unblinking. Adam was starting to feel a building sense of discomfort. “I, uh, I suppose I should explain my reasoning.”

“Cherished Sister,” one of the Biomancers said. “This patient needs—”

“He is fine,” Uva said, her tone hard. “He can rest in a moment. I have things I need to discuss with him.” The Weaveress Biomancer wanted to object, but Uva’s cold glare made her squeak. That glare was promptly turned on Adam, and he suddenly felt very, very vulnerable again. The Jealousy might have torn his mind asunder and was far more powerful than Uva, but with the way she was looking at him… Adam didn’t like his odds of survival. Especially not in his current state.

Then he heard a music note from afar. The Composer was playing again. This song… It played at midnight. Adam tried to focus his Hypersense—but his senses felt alive and unbound. Suddenly, his mind cleared more, and he pulled the notifications back.

Skill Evolution: Hypersense (Adept) > Seer of Horizons (Heroic)

Skill Evolution: Toughness (Common) > Repulsion Shroud (Adept)

The Young Lord froze. Heroic.Even father doesn’t… “Sweet gods… I must have… I didn’t expect this for months… Years.. ” Uva cocked her head at him briefly, but he narrowed his eyes and focused. A second later, his senses slipped free from his body and began drifting through the air. The feeling was uncanny. The speed at which he could move and the details that were offered to him were overwhelming. In a second, he pierced through the entirety of Cradle, with every sense mapping out the many rooms. There were patches of darkness—places that didn’t give enough detail, but overall, he had an almost perfect picture of the place.

And then he kept going. He drifted through the structure and shot toward the Composer’s Symposium. Along the way, he perceived everything across the vast city in absolute detail—could instantly accelerate toward anything he could hear, see, or smell. And that was when Adam realized the extent of his new skill. It was like a traveling chain for his Awareness. He could instantly lock on anything that could be perceived by sight, sound, or taste. He could immediately cast his Awareness to that position, and from there… he could jump again.

The feeling was absolutely liberating. It was like his senses were unchained from his body—

“Adept Adam,” Uva called again, this time sounding unsure.

Adam paused. His Awareness drifted just over the Composer’s Symposium, and he considered going in, but he decided to respect the goddess’s privacy. It was inappropriate to enter another’s home without being invited. Even if Adam could hear and see practically anything. With this Skill Evolution—to Heroic no less—he was practically a Diviner. Well, not really, but functionally.

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“Adept Adam,” Uva said, worry evident in her voice now.

Adam recalled his Awareness. His senses shot back to him immediately. He was taken aback when he saw himself. His irises were now a clash of colors, halfway between a rosy, rising dawn and the curving blue of a distant horizon. And it was all because of how hard he strained himself trying to track the Jealousy—planning his flight to evade the damn thing for hours and hours.

He spawned so many clones with the owl’s rapier—lured off entire enemy cavalry teams and shot some of them down. It was stupid. It had nearly killed him. But it pushed him like never before.

The System desires strife. And the System rewards true struggle.

Adam blinked as his Awareness settled back in himself. He swallowed and couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s… It’s Hero Adam, now, I’m afraid.”

Uva was about to say something else, but at that, she went quiet. “Truly?”

“Truly,” Adam breathed. He felt like he was floating. “I thought—I didn’t expect this for a few months… No, I didn’t expect this at all. I thought I was going to get a Master-Tier Skill Evolution. But this…” He remembered how much sensory detail he fought to process—tracking every single enemy hunting him, cutting through impossible routes and hidden paths to survive just a while longer.

Madness. Absolute madness. And it was rewarded.

“My congratulations,” Uva said, briefly astonished.

“Thank you,” Adam said. “My… Toughness evolved as well.”

“That, I am not surprised about. I had to kill several riders who had you at the end. Each one was trying to twist your limbs off. You actually lost your right arm inside your armor.”

Adam blinked. He stared at his right arm and swallowed. “Ah. Well. I… I owe you my life, Sister Uva. I am forever grateful.”

She nodded, her face unreadable. “And I am beyond furious with you. What part of patience and planning is not taught at your surfacer academy?”

“It is taught, I just decided to ignore it. This once.” Adam paused. “Did he make it in?”

“Yes,” Uva practically hissed. “He did. And now the gate is closed. Even with slaves and goods piling outside. Intelligence has intercepted reports of an internal state of emergency for the gate. It is under lockdown. We do not know what happened, but there are some assumptions I can make. And most of them… drive me closer and closer to anger and disappointment. What were you thinking?”

“That I had a chance to save my home and I was going to take it,” Adam said honestly. He looked at Uva—really looked at her. Her face was cold and unmoving, but his Awareness was Heroic, and he could practically feel how tightly she was clenching her jaw. She wasn’t lying about being furious, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. “The Animancy Core cannot get to Blackedge. I couldn’t allow it. We didn’t have time, and I made a choice—”

“Without consulting anyone else,” Uva cut in.

“Yes,” Adam said, keeping his own rising rage in check. “Because it’s my home. And Shiv’s. I understand this wasn’t a rational thing to do, but I had no choice. The information we got regarding the core’s transport was wrong, and I took the only shot I had to stop it. I had to make sure he made it in.”

“And now, he is inside, and the gate is sealed.” Uva went quiet for a moment. She breathed three times. Deep breaths. “We can only pray the Gate Lord doesn’t take notice of him. Regardless, we don’t know what he faces, or how many Masters there are, or if he has been captured.” A sigh escaped her. “Do you know what a mind mage can do to someone?”

“Shiv’s practically unkillable,” Adam said, doing his best to justify his confidence. “Hells, he probably wants to be killed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has another Adept or Master skill by the time we find him.”

“Or,” Uva said, almost too quietly. “He could be completely hollow. No more mind. No more Shiv. And Compact could have a Deathless Pathbearer who adapts to whatever killed him. Who gets stronger based on whatever kills him. And then they will use him as a weapon against the other Faiths, and then we might need to kill him for good.”

Adam blinked. “I—”

“Would you like that?” Uva asked. “Would you like to see him dead? Would it please you to finally take revenge on his existence? For the things he never did?”

“No!” Adam shouted. The anger in him spiked. “Never! Never question my honor that way. I am not that kind of person! You can say many things to me, but never accuse me of scheming to do such a thing. Even against someone… someone…”

“You hate?” Uva asked.

Adam closed his eyes. “I don’t bloody know. All I know is he was there, and I had an opening. Shiv… He would understand. He went in willingly.”

“Because he’s practically fearless,” Uva snapped. “Nothing shakes him. Not for long. But that is not a good thing. Not always.”

The Young Lord studied her features. “You… I’m sorry. I know you care for him—”

“This is about more than my feelings or relations, Hero Adam—” Adam winced. Mostly at the title. And that was the problem of entering the Heroic Tier—the sheer awkwardness of your title change. Uva continued. “This is about the security and the safety of Weave. If they dig through his memories, think about what they can discover on top of having a human weapon like him. Think about what we have to do if he ‘somehow escapes’ and reaches this place. Has he been compromised? Has he been turned? Someone will need to delve into his mind. Someone who isn’t me. And this is the best case.”

She scoffed. “I do. I do care. But I am a Sister of the Arachnae Order, and now my worries are personal, professional, and existential.” She let out another breath as her demeanor softened. “I am… I do not know how I might act if Weave was under threat, and I was in your position. I cannot claim to be more steady of heart. But the consequences of this action are bigger than just us.”

“And so will be the consequences if the Animancy Core gets to Blackedge,” Adam replied. “The Republic—if my home falls, we will be at war. I assure you. And I don’t—I don’t think I have the strength to fight any of you.”

At that admission, Uva’s coldness thawed completely. She shook her head and rubbed her face in exhaustion. “Composer. I just—we just didn’t have enough time.”

“Yes.” Adam grimaced. Then paused. “There is another possibility you aren’t considering.”

“What’s that?”

“That Shiv is currently wreaking havoc within the gate and enjoying all the brutal, nasty, tortuous deaths that he wants.”

Uva blinked. “The thought did cross my mind.”

“Then why didn’t you present that as a damned possibility?”

“Because I prefer being cynically surprised than hopeful and disappointed,” Uva deadpanned.

Adam laughed weakly. “Captain Irons would have loved you too. That’s something exactly like what he would say.” Then, Adam felt a shiver in the air and heard— “Ah. Valor. I was hoping we didn’t lose you.”

The skull floated in from the outside, hovering just over Uva’s shoulder. “Adept—”

“Hero, now,” Uva corrected.

Valor stared at Adam. “Truly? Well. Nearly dying at the hands of the Jealousy has done you some good. Apparently Master Shiv has inspired you—and awoken a competitive spirit.”

“Well, don’t say that yet,” Adam grumbled. “Last thing I want to discover is that he’s a Heroic Pathbearer too, somehow. I… just hope Uva’s worst expectations prove false. In fact…” Adam looked at the Biomancers. “I will endeavor to make them false. Release these restraints. And where is—I need my bow and armor. And rapier.”

“Exalted Guest,” one of the Biomancers called. “You still need more rest…”

“I can rest in the wilderness,” Adam said. “I’m going to put my new Skill Evolutions to use.”

“Compact has expanded their patrols in the area and summoned an army of dimensionals. Still Water has encountered several war demons in the dark. She claims they are lying in wait—prepared to strike at anyone who approaches.”

“That’s fine,” Adam said. “My Seer of Horizons Skill doesn’t need me to be anywhere near the gate. I just need to be in the same realm.”

Uva’s eyes widened slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if I listen a bit harder and transition a few times, I can project my Awareness into the Composer’s Symposium. Or close enough before I encounter the proper wards.”

“From here?” Uva asked.

“Yes.”

“How fast?”

“Well, you saw how I didn’t react when you were calling me by my name earlier, yes? Well, my senses were actually on a very, very brief walk.”

“That sounds… staggeringly potent. And invasive.” Uva seemed conflicted.

“Worry not, Sister,” Adam said. “I’m not the kind that peers into other people’s privacy. I’m just the one that suffers the unwanted details because the world around me is too loud and too obvious.”

Uva proved very good at hiding her embarrassment. Adam proved to be better at spotting the muscles on her face contracting in a very specific way. She did a thing where she channeled her nervousness or tension by pressing her tongue hard against the roof of her mouth—and Adam could hear the sound.If he focused, he could project his—No, absolutely not doing that.

“Thank you, Hero Adam,” Uva said mentally. He cringed in place.

“I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to it.”

“It’s fine… It’s more than fine…” Her expression then took on a thoughtful quality. “Much more than fine. Do you want to go out hunting alongside me again, Pathbearer-Hero Adam? I think you just gave me an idea.”

He liked that phrasing a lot more. “Adept Sister Uva, there is nothing I would want more in the world.” Adam grinned. “And this time, we might be the ones who get to save Shiv.”

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