Good evening, students. Tonight, I’d like to talk to you about brothels and other hobbies. No, I did not misspeak. Please wipe those looks off your faces. You are all adults, or at least close to it. I will not treat you as children, unaware or ignorant of the ways of the world. Many of you probably have already frequented such establishments. This is just a performance. Understand that I do not judge you.

I, personally, do not like brothels. My distaste is not religious or prudish in nature. It was cultivated over time from various prostitutes hiding mana bombs underneath their beds or, in some circumstances, inside of themselves to kill a few of my comrades. I assure you that meaningless sex is quick to lose its appeal when your life is actively on the line.

But there is a reason why I bring up brothels. Brothels are often also gambling dens. They are places where people spend their spare time to indulge in revelry and baser pleasures after the intensity of labor. Brothels are filled with all manner of people, from all Paths, of all walks of life, of all social classes. Despite my distaste for them, there is a reason why they are a nexus of a culture.

And often they speak poorly of a culture, for it is your hard-earned mithril that will be gifted to some pimp who thinks poorly of their stable and even less of you.

Enough of your other instructors and professors likely have mentioned the importance of placing your money in things that do not depreciate over time or might even compound. I will not go into that advice. I am not one for vagueness. I am here to dictate your behavior and to hone you into the finest warriors you can be. So long as you are in this class, you are my soldiers, and I will see you act and perform as such.

You are to find hobbies that will enrich your life. And you are to master yourself and to see yourself avoidant of the basest of pleasures and spared scoundrel-like company.

I have told you about recovery before. It is important to take time away from the field, to have your body and mind adjust and rejuvenate from moments of extreme intensity. Such is why a great many Pathbearers are drawn to such establishments as well. It is a natural inclination for an animal to wish to continue its line after experiencing several near-death events.

But we are more than animals.

You can pursue a life of lust and pleasure. I can offer you something superior to lust and pleasure. Something that will make you feel greater than illicit drugs and the company of those skilled in satisfying your body and ego. Should you pursue the latter regardless, I can definitively say that you will find yourself pleased, but ultimately also dulled to pleasure, chasing more deviant pleasures, and feeling empty in the end. For you have made nothing, for this action is a reflection of your future, with nothing built, with nothing to look forward to.

So, I will offer you a blueprint for downtime: If you are tired, if you are weary, if your body lacks fuel or rejuvenation of any kind, you are to feed yourself. Make sure your health is in as close to peak condition as possible and then rest. When you are done resting, move on to less strenuous activity, something that keeps your baseline low. Boredom is your ally. Do not fear boredom. Boredom will give you perspective. It will give your mind a moment to simply be. Boredom will be your North Star. Do not be so desperate or needy that you rush into another impulse, another deluge of sensation. Boredom will save your life.

-Captain Harry Irons, Tac-Strat 101

289 (I)

Downtime [I]

After a fun few hours of vampiric massacres and unspeakable violence, Shiv applied the perfect bookends to his day of bloodshed with a single statement. “Hey, Helix, we tore through most of the vampire attackers, but there are still stragglers everywhere, a downed Court Leviathan for the taking, and also one of their cities is undefended. Don’t tell the others and have fun.”

With that, Shiv killed two birds with one stone. On one hand, the orc Biomancer was now a solved problem. At least for a while. He wouldn’t be demanding that Shiv spend every spare second he had learning Biomancy. Additionally, this would also dramatically boost Helix’s mood. He had long professed his hate for vampires, and allowing him to scratch his own itch right now was both a strategic and tactical decision in one, since he knew Helix was smart enough to not extend his scratching to the slaves still present in Ur-Abathur.

With that taken care of, Shiv made his way toward where the others were waiting.

Starhawk’s Perch had been placed a few hundred meters away from the Gate’s central tower. Bathed by the azure light of the Gate’s mana core, the catastrophic damage the castle sustained during the long siege of Blackedge lay bare for all to witness. It looked like the right wing of the castle had been rebuilt several times, held together by strips of scrap metal. Other sections of the structure were reinforced by what little they could scavenge from the ruins. Toppled walls were bolted in place, installed as bulwarks against incoming attacks. These additions made Starhawk’s Perch look absolutely hideous. They stood out like skin tags—protrusions where there should have been none, on top of being war-scarred and battered.

The glass windows of the castle had metal boards hammered over them, shrouding the interior from sight. And finally, its central spire looked vivisected. Entire sections of matter were missing, stripped clean by strange magical attacks, no doubt. But the eldritch creatures hadn’t cut all the way through, for the metallic cylinder housing the mana elevator remained intact, if a little scratched and slightly torn in places. Ultimately, the Perch itself stood cracked, damaged, with a massive chasm lining its eastern side, but ultimately still whole.

Shiv darkly thought that the castle stood a fitting allegory to Blackedge itself. The people and the town had come out of the struggle more dead than alive. Much had been lost, but they were still here. Sullain had failed. The Outsiders had failed. Roland Arrow was still alive. The Starhawk’s will was still in motion, and now they were in a Gate with access to the Abyss, closer than ever before to the Great One, where the power of the Forgotten Ascendants could be mustered toward the purpose of liberating the Republic from the current Ascendants.

Or so the Starhawk proclaimed. Shiv had his doubts. The Ascendants were decayed of mind, and in a sort of caricature-like stasis. They were being wielded by Veronica as weapons, and ultimately seemed more like maladaptive children given far too much power than actual gods. Even the Educator couldn’t fully escape that fate, even with her partially severed from godhood. And according to a few things Jessica had said, the Starhawk was diminished as well, rendered into the very stereotype of a just and noble hero, but nothing else.

As Shiv drew close to the midpoint of the Gate, he saw dozens of Umbral Sisters and Weaveresses examining the castle’s damage. He recognized a few of them, though he didn’t know their names. They were the Geomancers that had helped clear the ruins and reshape some of the buildings. He’d guessed they would be part of the restoration effort.

That’s a pretty nice gesture of goodwill from the Arachnae Order, Shiv thought, but then his mind went a little bit deeper. He delved into the potential politics of the whole thing and recognized that it offered some benefits to Weave as well. From what he’d gathered, Weave was not particularly powerful compared to the other four Faiths, lacking High-Tier Pathbearers and established influence that only time made possible. And the Composer herself was not a full goddess, leaving her limited but still capable of existing in reality without straining the ambient mana threshold. Faced with adversaries from the surface and down in the Abyss, Weave relied on stealth and surgical attacks to preserve its existence.

But with the descent of the Perch, perhaps the spider Goddess now had a most effective ally in the form of the Starhawk. Shiv could see all manner of bargains being struck there, Roland fighting on behalf of Weave in exchange for access to the deepest parts of the Abyss—access to the Great One.

Pair that with Valor’s dramatic return to form, and she had more than a few cards up her metaphorical sleeve now compared to ever before.

And Shiv was caught right in the middle of that. He was likely going to be tasked with a return to Weave to serve as a diplomatic envoy for Blackedge, or at least a mediator between the surface and the Abyss. Rather than stressing him out, Shiv actually quite liked the idea of constructive politics. Yes, politics was a messy thing ruled by snake-tongued liars, but Shiv had developed a liking for dealing with people over the course of the last few months. Ultimately, being a diplomat offered him the choice to go and seek out new places to meet new and interesting people, and ultimately to kill some of these new and interesting people or make their lives better.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

By now, Shiv was fine with either.

One of the Weaveress Geomancers noticed Shiv flying through the air above her and waved with three hands. He returned the gesture, using two hands less, and made his way toward the massive obsidian spire at the center of Gate Piety, currently Null Mont’s personal residence, where it had once belonged to Adam before.

The moment he landed before a set of open doorways leading inside the tower, the two Umbrals on guard saluted him, their arms snapping high, their weapons rising into the air.

“Cherished Guest Shiv!”

Shiv returned the salute and grinned at the Umbrals. “I killed the attackers. I also gave your vampire problem an orc problem of their own.”

The two Umbral Guards eyed each other, and Shiv detected a hint of both relief and unease. They’d definitely gotten the hidden World Quest notification by now.

“Lady Arachnae be praised,” the Umbral on the right, one with long, braided hair, declared. “Some among our Order have prayed to her to hasten your return. And here you stand before us, our deliverance made flesh.”

The Umbral on the left, her hair cut shorter and with bangs, coughed and squinted at her comrade. “Careful there, Sister Nunha. Remember that the Deathless One is taken, and you will have to face down Cherished Sister Uva for his personal company.”

Sister Nunha proved to be the mature sort, choosing to roll her eyes instead of sputtering in indignation. “Only you can mistake honest praise for boot-licking or lustful hints, Tyn. I simply wish to express my genuine thanks to the Deathless One. You would be wise to do the same. Before his return, it seemed like we were all going the way of Five-Leg at Airgrave Pass.”

Shiv stared at her. “Okay, I’m going to need some context for that last one.”

Tyn sighed. “Five-Leg was a Heroic Weaveress who gave her life defending the retreat of our Order during the last War of the Five Faiths. The demonic dogs of Compact were following close behind us and were all but certain to burst through and overtake her army thanks to having a Legendary Dimensionalist on their side. By all means, we should have suffered more than a complete rout, perhaps mass enslavement or a massacre, but somehow Five-Leg managed to trap them within the pass and, using her Geomancy, collapsed the mountain pass inward, crushing all the adversaries that foolishly decided to follow us and martyring herself in the process.”

“You guys had a plan to take the vampires with you if they managed to get into the Gate?” Shiv asked, confused by the correlation to their current situation.

Nunha grimaced. “Well, Cherished Mother Null Mont was trying to figure out a way to potentially destroy the mana core, so perhaps the better way of describing things is that we were about to become volunteer sacrifices in someone else’s scheme to immortalize themselves.”

Tyn’s face twisted into one of paranoia and worry. Her eyes darted about, and she chanced to look inside the tower as if expecting Null Mont to appear behind her upon being invoked. “Sister,” she hissed, “Mind your tongue!”

“Why?” Nunha retorted. “We all know the truth. We all stomach her incompetence. It’s her fault that we lost several of our scouting teams. It’s her fault that we did nothing for so long. Just waited for the First Blood to muster themselves and creep closer to the gateway. We should have undergone evacuation efforts, if nothing else. But she was so desperate to hold this place, so desperate to claim some credit, and so terrified of the Deathless here, that she found herself frozen in indecision.”

Shiv listened on with folded arms. Hearing that Null Mont was still scared of him brought a faint smile to his face. It was just a measure of power over someone else, that he’d managed to inflict so much dread on an incompetent character like Null Mont that reassured him about the future. For if you couldn’t convince someone, you could always threaten them into being a better person, or at least not an active problem.

“I don’t think Adam would have appreciated the loss of his Gate either. Frankly, I’m surprised no one tried to dispute his position as Gate Lord.”

Both of the Umbral Guards looked at each other.

Tyn cleared her throat, masking her discomfort as phlegm. It was like she was trying to pass an awkward truth that was too hard to admit immediately. “It is more so the fact that no one wishes to cross you.”

Shiv stared at her, not truly grasping the implications behind her words.

“Gate Lord Adam is respected, but he has only been Gate Lord for a short period of time. His ascent also came during a desperate moment. The survivors have come out of a great calamity, traumatized and worried about the future. They’re still worried about the future, even now, for many of them wish to depart the Gate either through the Abyssal or surface gateways. But they didn’t dare. We didn’t need to watch them that closely. There have been no true rebellions during your absence.”

“It’s all because of one thing,” Nunha added. “You. The leaders of the mercenaries and former soldiers have kept themselves in control and disciplined. And apparently, any time someone thinks about doing something unwise, your name comes up. The Deathless.”

Shiv’s pride swelled just a little more. “So, what, I’m some kind of nightmare for these people now? You’re saying that the Gate remained under our control because they were afraid of me?”

“It’s a mix between how much they fear you and how you’re still willing to listen to them,” Tyn answered. “The fact that you cooked for them helped substantially as well. They know you’re capable of terrible things, but that you’re still reasonable. There’s still a way to be spared under you. And they didn’t want to risk it. Perhaps if you stayed absent for longer, they might have tried a breakout or something. But for now, their weapons lie far from their hands. We let them keep their armor, and we kept a close eye on their mages, but so far they remain under control. Though I do think you should make a visit to the Prisoner’s Compound. A great many of them still wish to leave.”

“I’ll do that in a while, when all my other stuff is dealt with,” Shiv grunted. “I think I’m gonna go inside and see what Adam and the others are up to now.”

“They should be up at the top of the tower,” Tyn said. “Null Mont is there too.”

“Even though she shouldn’t be,” Nunha muttered.

Shiv eyed both of the guards once more, and his Gardener of Doubt Skill triggered. There was something they didn’t want to tell him. Something that was being withheld.

Gardener of Doubt: Don’t say anything for a second. Just stare at them. See if they crack and offer you any more information.

He did just that. He folded his arms and focused his gaze on Nunha. Both of the Umbral Guards swallowed several times and began to visibly sweat as they tried not to meet his eyes. Nunha held up surprisingly well under the pressure, so he moved on to Tyn instead. They both pulsed with doubt at the same time.

The more anxious of the two guards folded. “Is… is there a problem, Cherished Deathless?” Tyn muttered.

Shiv nodded. “There might be. Anything else you want to tell me? If so, I’m all ears. I won’t bite your head off.”

“Just ask him,” Nunha hissed.

Gardener of Doubt 67 > 68

Tyn cringed and glared at her fellow guard. “Then why don’t you ask him? You’re the one that has that doll.”

“It’s not a doll! It’s a limited edition statuette of a Legendary icon,” Nunha shot back. “Dolls are for children. I am a collector. I—”

She trailed off, and her pale face turned several shades of red as she realized Shiv was looking at her with a wide smirk. “Oh, Composer… Alright. Please forgive me if I am overstepping, but rumors have made their way here from Weave and all across the Abyss. It is said that Sir Marikos Valdemar returned from his excursion to the surface, and that he was placed under confinement by the Semper Paragon due to ignoring superior orders, breaking the laws of the Accord, breaching the Treaty of Light and Dark, and leading numerous Lances to their deaths. But despite this, he has told many a tale regarding his battle against the Vicar’s rogue army.”

Nunha’s expression turned dreamy. “He claims to have fought beneath a shrouded sun—defied by the haze of war and destruction—and that the Vicar used his foul magic to conjure a Tarrasque of all things—the Undying Tarrasque that appeared in the World Quest. And he claims that he could not have bested the Tarrasque without your aid, that you are unyielding and unceasing, more monstrous than the monster, a Dragon-Knight in all but title and form.”

With every sentence she spoke, the smirk on Shiv’s face grew wider. He was glad to hear that Marikos had survived the battle on the surface, though he’d had his suspicions. Shiv remembered how the Legendary Dragon-Knight had appeared to have met a brutal end at the Tarrasque’s hands at several points during the battle, yet returned to the fray as if uninjured shortly after each time. Apparently, even being wrung out like a wet towel and emptied of most of his insides wasn’t enough to ensure his demise.

As for his current state… Yeah, no surprises there. He told me about all the rules and orders he ignored during the battle himself. Definitely appreciated his help, but it probably wasn’t the smartest course of action on his side.

The Vicar had ultimately been killed as a result of the battle that took place across Lost Angeles, if only indirectly, but now Marikos was facing his own form of punishment for breaking both the Accord of the Five Faiths and the treaty between them and the surface by going up to the surface without authorization.

Though it also seemed like Marikos wasn’t in dour spirits, seeing how he’d decided to spread boasts of their victory over the Tarrasque—something that didn’t actually happen—and also elevate Shiv’s name and legend along with it.

Nunha swallowed. “He says you fought so fiercely that even the System itself grew fearful of you, and that the surfacer Gods decided to Curse you as a union, creating the Hidden World Quest to see you destroyed before you surpassed them all in power.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep