Chương 76: Book 2, Chapter 1

Two ranks faced each other on a hilltop under the glaring afternoon sun. Both sides bristled with weapons, limbs tensed, innumerable powers held at the ready. There was no love lost here, scowls and menacing glares aplenty from both sides of a divide that was both physical and untouchable.. The heat added to the oppressive atmosphere. There was no wind, nothing to distract from the increasing tension. Even the nearby wildlife seemed to agree, not a single beast visible in the distance.

I was no stranger to dick measuring. Hell, in the boxing world, it was practically an art form. Using your body, language and, well, body language, to intimidate the other party, earn a bit of an advantage in your opponent's mind before the actual fight started? Absolutely a viable technique. It just wasn't needed today. Clearing my throat, I took a step out of the line on my own side.

"All right. That'll do. We're all friends here. No need for any pissing contests. Come. Sit. We've got food and drink, enough for everybody. Even for you, Jaggor." The huge Tavungor hesitated for a moment. His massive front limbs, more reminiscent of an elephant's than those of a humanoid, rose and slammed into the ground with an audible thud. Then he grunted and showed his ugly, broken teeth in what might have been a smile as he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Good. It's been a dry march." For a while, the arrow-straight ranks softened and re-arranged as a bunch of human helpers climbed the hill, carrying blankets, food and drink, arranging it all in a large circle. We sat back down, and waterskins were shared around to sighs of relief from the newcomers. The mood lightened for a moment, a few cordial exchanges going back and forth between our group and theirs… until Cuilcis ruined it all.

"You cheated us." The Tibidi was tiny, barely a meter tall. Yet, his glare carried weight, as did his opinion amongst the entourage from Last Chance. Everybody knew that Cuilcis was of the Tethered, a large group of knowledge peddlers, and that his race was unable to lie. Honest to God, I hadn't imagined him to come out shots firing. Especially not with what we'd just been through.

Those around Cuilcis – the varied races of Last Chance, fortune seekers one and all – had joined up in an attempt to take back the Ever Steady and beat back the vast numbers of the bestial Kadren. Not out of any desire to help their fellow man, but because the numerous, stupid, low-leveled Kadren were little better than experience on legs. Cuilcis had joined in himself, of course. Sure, we'd played a little loose with the truth here and there, but that was the point. Cuilcis had helped us sell the lie.

He had to be more than a little pissed to come straight at us like that.

"How exactly does that work, Cuilcis? Us cheating you?" The merry voice didn't mirror the emotionless accusation in the voice of the Tibidi. Rather, it radiated mirth and warmth. Nix wasn't quite as tiny as the Tibidi, but the pint-sized lass lacked in height what she made up with personality.

"I seem to recall us promising we'd charge the centre of the camp, take the tower and challenge the toughest bastards among the Kadren, one and all. Did we or did we not deliver at that?"

"You did not tell us that the slaves were your kin!" The words arrived, as always, without any inflection. Yet, the delivery and the tenseness of the Tibidi's spindly body made no secret at just how pissed he was. Then it clicked for me.

Cuilcis had been the one to tell the people of Last Chance about his 'trustworthy scout' who'd scouted out the Kadren – which, in actual fact had been me and the others – and when they realized this wasn't just any Kadren slave camp, but our people we'd ended up liberating, he must have looked a right plonker.

"Cuilcis, mate." I spoke up, facing the eyes of the crafty knowledge peddler.

"We never lied to you. We just didn't tell you everything. Because, if you'd known that these were our people we were going to save? You'd have used that knowledge, made sure you owned our asses, forever! Tell me I'm lying and that wouldn't be 'Tethered' knowledge." He stared me straight in the eye.

"We had a deal." Silence reigned for a few seconds. Then Stalwart, the subtly glowing Larian crafter from Last Chance, scoffed at him.

"Pfah. You got played, Cuilcis. It happens. You're just not used to being on the receiving end." He waved dismissively at the Tibidi, then grabbed a piece of dried meat and looked at it before taking a tentative bite. His regular surly demeanour turned baffled for a moment.

"Did you… serve us Skreeling meat?" I grabbed a piece of the tough jerky myself bit into it with glee. After reopening the portal back to Earth, our numbers had started going back up, to the point where we might have run out of food, had it not been for the Kadren corpses. Every single crafter, regardless of specialization, had spent ages drying, seasoning and processing the dead beasts for us to consume. It tasted like justice. The actual taste, gamey, but rich, wasn't half bad either.

"It seemed like the thing to do. Now. Tell us. How's Last Chance doing? What happened during the attack? We were rather… distracted." That was putting it mildly. We'd been fighting for our lives, expecting to die several times over during the engagement, and had only been saved when the former slaves, now freed from their slave bonds, had taken up arms and overwhelmed the remaining Kadren on the cusp of time. Meanwhile, our former comrades from Last Chance, had tucked their tails between their legs and run.

All the way back to Last Chance. That surprised me, to begin with. We'd been allies. Why the hell would they run, when they had to have spotted the Kadren being defeated? Nix was kind enough to explain it to me like I was a six-year-old. Of course, the revelation that we weren't the only humans out here would make them fear that they were getting backstabbed. Now, finally, they were back, tentatively peaceful, and understandably cautious about our behaviour.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Well. Most of them were. Jaggor waved a Riverkin – an entire Riverkin – on a spit, as if it were a a chicken skewer, and took a huge chomp out of it. Mouth full, he bellowed with laughter.

"Distracted? I will believe that. The way you torched that Higher Soil Scourer? It was glorious. I could hear the explosion past the screams of the Kadren! We enjoyed ourselves, as well, of course. Tiny beasts everywhere, ripe for the plucking. We waded through their blood like a rising tide. Only, that Glimmerscale was too strong. It had something we didn't. It was supernatural. The coordination. The power." He snarled.

"One on one, I would have taken it apart. Yet, surrounded by others, they tore into us, destroyed all opposition, slew us by the dozens." He huffed, then shrugged.

"It was worth it, of course. The kismet granted me three levels, and my improvement was on the lower end for us all. What are a few lives against that?"

"Last Chance is thriving, then?" Nix said joyfully.

"We're happy to hear that. And that you agreed to come here in the first place. Our hopes for defeating the Kadren didn't go entirely as planned – but we're all looking forward to getting to know you properly – and establish some excellent future trading agreements."

"Trading." Jaggor huffed.

"Boring. That Steve of yours did say that was your proposal. I'm just here because I figured there'd be more Kadren to take out. And those are all Crafters, then?" His tone left no doubt about his disdain for the class. On his right, Denetar, the most prosperous Crafter of Last Chance, glared daggers at the huge Tavungor. Nix, the most sociable of our lot and agreed main spokesperson, didn't blink. Sitting cross-legged on a fur blanket, she just rolled with it, chuckling.

"Oh. I am so sorry. We should have started with introductions." She leapt to her feet and, with a sweeping motion, gestured at the ground behind her. A large groove of the dark soil of the hilltop disappeared, as if removed by a giant ice-cream scoop. The earth floated into the air, coalescing into the rough shape of a hand. A huge hand, which slowly folded its fingers upwards in the imitation of a 'come here gesture.'

Nix promptly sat down on the floating earthen hand, treating it like a chair and started floating through the air in between the two parties. Her short legs dangled off the edge of the seat, like a kid on a too-big chair. I barely held back a chuckle. She was such a show-off.

"You'll probably have an idea what the Kadren slave bond does to persons. I know Cuilcis was well informed, as usual, when we talked." She tipped one hand toward him in a peace offering of sorts.

"In short, it doesn't inhibit their growth at all, in the same way that it forces the enslaved person to do the bond holder's bidding. Yet, the Kadren have – had - very specific notions about how slaves should act and what they should be allowed to do. As such, yes, some of our strongest inhabitants are currently Crafters and Collectors, along with a rare few Mages and Scouts who had talents that were useful for the Kadren."

She went down the rank of people, introducing a bunch of persons I barely remembered myself. A blonde lass who was barely old enough to be allowed to drive, Level 23 Leatherworker. A grizzled Eastern European who looked like he couldn't stand up straight for his life, Level 26 Collector. A young man with dark hair and piercing look who seemed like he'd be right at home on the runway, Level 25 water Mage.

I did know a few from beforehand, happy to see that the ill-tempered telekinesis Mage who'd performed my very first introductions to this world was still alive, and thriving at Level 22. Her powers must've been useful for the Kadren to keep her leveling. Eventually, she slowed down, reaching the end of the line of people we'd brought, indicating a… distinguished individual.

"So, yes. Our ranks have seen hardship, and our Fighters and Scouts have grown less than expected. Still, the last few days have been good to us. And now that they have been released from menial tasks and returned to proper roles, they will be able to flourish once again. Such as the esteemed Lord of Freedom here, a Level 20 Fighter."

"Lord of Freedom." Jaggor chuckled darkly.

"Funny name for somebody who was enslaved."

"We broke our chains, bih." His voice was high-pitched, even comical. Yet the fire in his eyes was not to be denied.

"You, anybody, finna try to hold us down again, we dare you. Dare you all!"

"We're all friends here." Nix cautioned, turning back to the visitors with a dazzling smile.

"But as you can see, we are catching up. And we aren't going to let any beasts in the Broken Divide stand in our way." The unspoken parts were rather obvious, even to somebody as socially inept as myself.

"Do you want to stand against us, or with us? Look at what we did to the Kadren and consider, carefully." Especially when she was pointing out that insane Floridian as somebody who'd been underperforming, when they had likely seen him in the battle, taking on the Higher Glimmerscale and winning, where they'd gotten their asses kicked! On top of that, showing off our higher-leveled Crafters and Collectors all hanging out around Level 25, on top of our own ass-kicking quartet.

The implied threat wasn't so much implied as dangled from a fucking banner. For a moment, the silence was almost oppressive. Cuilcis asked the obvious question.

"Curiosity. You are claiming the Torn Divide for yourselves? For… humans?" Nix waved away his concerns like they weren't absolutely warranted.

"Perish the thought. There aren't enough of us to be able even hold that much ground. Besides, while we aren't helpless, we could absolutely do with some more friends."

"Friends." Denetar turned the word over in his mouth like it was a piece of gristly meat he wasn't sure if he wanted to chew or spit out. Eventually, he ventured, "We could be friends. What would you want from friends?" From there, the talk turned to trade goods, to which services the Ever Steady would be able to provide, what we needed. There were certain details we didn't go into. Our numbers. The losses we'd taken along the way.

The ever-present elephant in the room, revolving around the portal that'd keep spewing fresh-faced humans raving to go. In a world, where having a teenager below Level 10 was a serious outlier, we wouldn't be able to keep the portal a secret forever. Yet, for now, we needed the secrecy. Eventually, we parted ways, with a lot of hot air on both sides – empty words that didn't really mean anything. Fecking politics! I could've spat. But I supposed they did mean something.

Another way to repeat the words that weren't being said, rather loudly.

"We can work together. We can see the advantage of this. We're not going to stab you in the back. Probably. Maybe." When the others left, Cuilcis stayed behind. None of the others from Last Chance looked surprised at this, meaning he'd likely told them he would. He sat on his fur blanket, stoic and unmoving like an ethereal baby Buddha. I nodded at the remaining representatives from the Ever Steady.

"We've worked with Cuilcis before. We'll have a friendly chat with him, before sending him back home." They left then, some obviously happy that the confrontation was over and done with, others sending suspicious glances at us. Major Pain was one of the last to shuffle off. He was still pissy that we'd refused to play by the rules of the 'old' alliances in the Ever Steady. I dropped the polite smile by then.

"Okay, Cuilc. What is it you didn't want the others to hear?"