Chương 113: Arc 2 - Chapter 55

Fritz awoke to the hustle and bustle of breakfast, or dinner, it could be either. The outside time really didn't bear much relevance on the rest and meal times of Climbers. He knew it was good to set up routines for the team to go through so as not to lose their daily rhythms. But eventually, with an hour here and an hour there slipping by unnoticed, they would be completely out of sync with the world beyond the Spire's walls.

He groaned and stretched, feeling strangely groggy, and was somewhat surprised no one had woken him. He sat up and inquired to the closest team member why they hadn't.

"Scouts and Healers need their rest, or that's what Bert said, and Toby agreed," George said.

"I don't remember elevating Toby to any rank of command," Fritz yawned.

"What?" Cal asked, handing him a bowl of stew.

"I mean, I didn't put him in charge of anything," Fritz rephrased. George shrugged.

"He seems to know what he's doing."

"That's the problem. Seems to. He might be completely clueless or trying to sabotage us," Fritz posited.

"Isn't it too early for paranoia," Bert said as he strutted over.

"It's never too early for paranoia, you know that. How many times has my profound prudence saved us?"

"Once, maybe," Bert allowed with a grin.

"And that's all it needs to do to be worth listening to," Fritz said, trying his bowl of bland-looking ration stew.

"Oh, Cal, this is dreadful. It tastes like equal parts fish guts and sawdust."

"With a hint of overripe mango, I know," Cal said matter-of-factly.

"Don't bother complaining, Captain. It's the best I can do with what we've got." Cal was really starting to come into his own in the role of the team's cook. So much so, that he was now berating Fritz rather than the other way around. It was good to see, the man needed to build his confidence, otherwise, he might end up as sour as Toby. And no one wanted that.

"All so formal, is this another of Toby's suggestions?" Fritz asked.

"No, it was mine," Bert said, his grin fading a little.

"It's all well and good to have some camaraderie, however, we really should be tightening ship." When Fritz looked at him questioningly Bert continued in a whisper only he could hear.

"It'll help keep the other two in line, make us feel more like a solid team. Less cracks for them to pry at."

"We are a solid team," Fritz whispered back.

"We are," Bert conceded.

"But it'll also be good practise for the Rain Spire. We don't want to Climb that one while looking and sounding like first-timers. We should be planting those habits, just like it says in 'The Observations'." Fritz mulled the suggestion over for a moment before agreeing.

"True as the rain," he said, nodding once.

"We should also change up our formations, now that we have two extra hands." Bert nodded. After Fritz finished his breakfast, he got to work packing and sorting his gear while also refilling his barrier ring with two triads. He made sure each of his team used their limited gold on their Defensive Treasures. They didn't need much convincing, having faced great danger already and being aware of the peril the spite could bring.

It was unfortunate that they had such little gold left, with sixty-two triads between them they couldn't fill all their Treasures to full capacity. And while they could fill the empty 'dome stick', as they had come to call Jasper's staff, they decided against it. The team had concluded that, no matter how useful and powerful the dome was, that it would be more beneficial, and cheap, to restore their personal Treasures.

So they made do with what they had, leaving them with twelve triads, and most of their Imbued items with at least two thirds or one activation remaining. Soon they were ready to take the middle Door, brave the cold atolls, and perhaps, if the spite wasn't as oppressive as they were led to believe, they could catch some fish.

Even if the sharks and deep denizens he had felt through the Door may not be quite the level of monsters, their meat would still be fresh and far better eating than the frankly foul stew he had for breakfast. They might even be monsters, might even be delicious, though he didn't dare to hope as such. That would make the Floor harder than he predicted.

"Toby, you're something of a striker-scout?" Fritz asked rhetorically.

"About right," Toby agreed without snark.

"Then you'll come through just after me, we're the vanguard. Skirmish and flee back to the team if we can't handle what we come across." He nodded.

"Jane you're in the middle with Lauren, between the two of you, you have quite a bit of healing and magical devastation. Rosie, you watch their backs. George and Bert, you're the Defender Striker tag team. Cal, you'll be in the middle but lend you support where you can." The team split into their pairings, and while Fritz was no tactician he thought that he'd covered their weakness as well as could be. And with their collection of Treasures, there wouldn't likely be much that could harm them.

In their current, rested, powerful state Fritz would even feel confident taking on the Great Hound again. Maybe. Fritz strode forth, up the soft sand ramp and into cold air. He shuddered slightly but continued his ascent, breaching the surface and stepping a couple of steps forward, waiting for Toby to appear through the hole in the sand. He didn't have to wait more than a minute, just as they had planned. Toby glanced around, pulled his cloak close and nodded once in acknowledgement.

"Bleak," was all he said. He was right. The sky was a dark, dull grey, threatening rain and the ocean around the pale, sandy shore sloshed with slowly crashing waves of deep blue. The water roared softly and the wind blew over it with a light shriek. Nothing else moved, even the sand was reluctant to be swept away by the freezing breeze. Fritz wished he had a warm coat, but settled for pulling out and tying a length of blue-grey sirensilk as a cape.

It fluttered in the wind, rippling like the ocean in the distance, and surprisingly it took the edge off the chill despite the fabulous fabric's thinness. The bank where they stood stretched for miles, connecting sporadically to the other islands and atolls. Fritz flexed his stifled Awareness and pulsed his Door Sense, to his mild excitement he felt a resonance, a distant response from over the waves. He knew vaguely which direction to go, if not the distance.

However, the route would be winding and likely treacherous if the spite had anything to say about it.

"Want to use one of these dowsers?" Toby asked.

"I heard that they work better for those with Awareness and I have some to spare. There were these two left in Jasper's pack," he added producing one of the navigational items.

"I might as well," Fritz said taking the outstretched wand of wood. He activated it and the thrumming trill of the response was far more clear. He let the dowser pull him so he faced the Door. Using his amplified Awareness, he was able to guess the distance to the Door, roughly thirty miles away. With some effort and fortuitous weather, it could take only a day's march to reach it.

If they could swim straight to the Stairway it could be even less, though Fritz knew that the cold water would drain them far more than walking, and they would be easy prey for the sharks. The wand snapped in two. Toby scowled when he saw the direction Fritz was facing and the rough, sea beyond.

"We'll have to cross the water?" He asked.

"Swim the whole way?"

"Maybe," Fritz said.

"Let's check the water first, once the crew come through." As if summoned by his words the rest of the team shuffled up the stairway and gathered around in a circle. They shivered, and upon seeing Fritz's makeshift cape soon emulated him. In a minute they were all adorned in sirensilk. Bert in red, Cal in green, Lauren in gold, George in yellow and Rosie in silver. Jane shuddered pathetically and Bert was quick to wrap her in a shawl of orange.

"Thank you," she said marvelling at the silk.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"If you think it's sirensilk then, yes," Fritz said with a smirk.

"No wonder you wouldn't let us look in your bags," Jane said.

"Just the bit you've given me is worth a fortune."

"Lent to you," Bert corrected, but he was grinning.

"Thank you all the same," Jane repeated pulling the luxurious cloth around her.

"And now that you all stand out like squids wearing shoes. I will check the shore while Toby keeps a watch," Fritz declared.

"Try not to find any trouble while I'm gone." If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. With a smirk on his face, Fritz turned his back on the chorus of scoffing and lighthearted jeers, and strode to the shore. Three minutes later, he was by the choppy waters, testing them with his hand. Freezing, though not quite the numbing cold of a blizzard.

Within the waves, deep within, Fritz thought he could see small shadows, differing outlines in the familiar shapes of sharks. Fritz pulsed his Senses and found that his impression of the Stairway had faded, the direction was still guessable but the distance was unknowable. Chiding himself for his forgetfulness, he pulled out the small wooden box containing his compass. He opened it, not expecting any real aid from the object but was, for once, pleasantly surprised.

The needle pointed unerringly to his right, leading the way north. He wondered why the object's ability to navigate wasn't shrouded by the spite, but reserved that question for when he returned to his team. Deciding to see what the shore to the north held in its waters Fritz made his way there and peered into the waves. Again, small sharks circled in schools, or packs, which, from what he knew of the beasts, was unusual. Were these monsters then? Or was this another effect of the spite? Or both?

Having learned what he could, Fritz quickly reunited with his waiting team and began to speak.

"The water is freezing, and infested with small sharks."

"How small is small?" Toby asked.

"Uh, depends how deep they were, couldn't be longer than nine feet," Fritz hedged.

"And that's small?" Lauren asked with some small incredulity.

"Definitely," Bert said.

"Much smaller than that horrible armoured shark," Jane added with a shudder. Fritz smiled at that, remembering his triumph in slaying the monstrosity.

"What are you smirking about? That thing almost took my hand off," Toby groused, showing off a long scar around his wrist.

"Only Sew Wounds kept it on." Fritz just smiled wider while Bert grinned. Toby scowled. Before they could start bickering George cut in, "Are we swimming again?"

"Not if I can help it," Fritz said.

"As you can see, all these islands are connected, we'll just take the longer, safer way."

"Best thing for it, considering the spite," Rosie agreed.

"Doesn't the spite get worse the longer you remain in a wrong-numbered team?" George asked.

"It can," Toby provided darkly.

"I don't know how fast though."

"I still think we take it the slow, safe way," Fritz said.

"Sprinting won't do any good, the Door dowser gave me the impression that the door was far away. This could be another survival Floor, like the jungle. So we should consider this a test, eventually one must bear the spite, and there's no reason to rush and get ourselves killed."

"Yeah, I don't really want to be eaten by sharks either," Rosie said.

"We should turn it around, do some fishing and eat the sharks instead," Cal suggested.

"Not a bad idea," Fritz said.

"A great one!" Bert corrected.

"If we have fishing line or something similar," Fritz said.

"Could use the silk," George theorised.

"No, let's not do that," Lauren retorted sharply.

"It's good for many things, but not for making nets and ropes. Or at least, I've never heard of it being used as such."

"There's no need," Cal said.

"Dayn gave me some fishing line and some hooks when we traded with his group. Said we should have some and we were fools for not bringing any. He would've also lent us a rod but his team didn't have any to spare."

"Will it be strong enough to pull in the sharks without snapping?" Jane asked.

"It's made for use in the Mer Spire," Cal said.

"Made of some tough stuff, so it should be enough."

"What a nice bloke," Bert said.

"I'll have to buy him a drink if we ever see him again."

"The question is: do we fish now or fish later?" Fritz asked.

"Now," Bert voted.

"I don't think I could stand another ration stew, no offence, Cal."

"I did what I could," Cal said dejectedly.

"But you're right, let's try now."

"Might be able to gauge how threatening the beasts are," Toby said.

"It would be good to know what our enemies in the ocean can do," Fritz agreed. The rest of the team had no problems with the proposition so they headed to the nearest shore, and prepared their lines and hooks. Without rods, they'd have to fish by hand, but with their enhanced, greater than human, strength it shouldn't be too hard to reel in the sharks. Especially with Bert and Cal's Momentum Attribute. It should be easy to tear them from the sea, or so Bert professed.

That's not what Fritz was worried about, he was worried about getting them on the hooks at all. With only the terrible rations to entice the beasts, he wasn't sure the sharks would take the bait. This opinion was also voiced by Rosie who had tried her hand at being a fisherman before being summarily dismissed for stealing unwatched bait to take home and eat. They cast the ration laden lines into the sea and waited for a bite.

"They'll want fresh blood," she stated sagely when the lines went undisturbed for an hour. A cold dreary hour.

"Where's a bucket of blood when you need it," Fritz sighed. Bert smiled, though it was strained, and stated, "I have an idea, but you're not going to like it." Fritz read his friend's expression and quickly arrived at Bert's idea before he spoke it aloud.

"You want to use your blood and abuse your absurd health recovery," Fritz said.

"You're right. I don't like it."

"Let's give it a go anyway," Bert said, grinning wide.

"Get the pot!" Hesitantly Cal pulled out the iron pot from his pack and set on it the fine white sands. Fritz frowned but didn't stop his friend from pulling out a knife and cutting a gash down his forearm. It would have been a waste of effort to argue, and considering the man's Vitality it wouldn't hurt him in the slightest. Less than ten drops of red trickled into the pot before the blood running down his arm darkened, thickened and slowed. Then the cut stopped bleeding entirely.

"Huh," Bert said looking at the pitiful amount of blood spilled.

"Guess I didn't think this through."

"You never do," Fritz said, shaking his head slowly and smiling a small smug smile.

"I can help," Toby offered.

"With Sanguine Sight and Lacerate, I should be able to slash something not vital, but enough to get some blood pumping. Though I can't promise it won't hurt."

"As always, you're surprisingly helpful when it comes to cutting things, Toby," Fritz asserted scowling at the man.

"I don't have to, just thought I'd offer," Toby grumbled.

"Do it!" Bert cried, proudly bearing his arm.

"Test your Lacerate against my Vitality and we'll see who's the victor!"

"It's not a contest," Fritz said exasperatedly.

"It is to me," Bert declared arrogantly.

"My pride as a Defender must be appeased." For all his disdain for Fritz's arrogant acts, Bert himself also had something of a dramatic streak. Another bad habit he'd picked up somewhere.

"This is stupid, but I can just heal the cut if it's too bad," Jane said with a shrug. The rest of the team looked on as though the three were mad. Which they were, but there really wasn't much risk to Bert, and the longer they waited without catching anything the more the spite would oppose them.

"Go ahead," Fritz said.

"But don't say I didn't warn you." Bert grinned and stood proudly as he held out his arm and awaited a slash from one of Toby's daggers. The sliver blade's edge flickered with jagged, red light and with a precise cut Toby drew the dagger down and across Bert's skin. For a moment the wound was only a line of red ran down Bert's forearm, then it poured blood like a red wine out of a bottle. Bert grimaced as the pot began to fill with sticky, sloshing blood. Toby was also frowning.

"I know why Bert's making a face but why are you so grumpy Toby?" Fritz asked.

"Thought it'd gush more," he admitted.

"Usually it sprays like an overflowing gutter, not like this." Bert's grimace curved into a grim grin, as the flow of blood started to slow.

"That's enough blood, I think," Rosie said when the pot was a third full. Jane quickly applied her Ability, the wound was stitched together miraculously by pale green threads.

"Good as new," she said.

"Right, let's soak these rations and get them in the water," Bert said.

"Can't wait to have some fried shark." Tentatively they proceeded, it was a morbid task and not for those of squeamish make, but as most of them had been raised in the gutters a little bit of blood didn't bother them too much. Fritz was only a little queasy at the sight himself, though George and Lauren still looked mortified at the very concept. Soon the lines were cast with bloody chunks of the soaked rations on their hooks and within minutes the waters stirred with something other than waves.

Bert and Cal grunted as they pulled the sharks in, only to fall backwards as their lines went slack. It wasn't because the tough, thin threads had snapped, no, they were far too durable for that, but that the sharks were now speeding towards the shore.

"Step back," Fritz ordered, an ominous feeling building in his gut.

"Fighting formation. Spears and blades." The team quickly fell into position as Fritz led them into a slow retreat from the shore. The sharks rushed through the waves like a pack of starving hounds, biting and beating the water, leaving white foam in their wake. Fritz got the distinct impression they would have been howling for his team's blood if sharks could howl.

When he and his team were fifteen feet from the ocean, he halted their retreat and the sharks threw themselves from the waves, leaping high into the air. The sleek beasts were around six feet long, as he had guessed, and were coloured a matte, dark blue with silvery white underbellies. Their jaws were lined with three rows of sharp, hooked fangs and their gills flared white, spraying water as if spitting in fury. Mad, blue eyes stared out from both sides of their unnatural, spade-shaped heads.

And most of all they were fast and they were deadly.

"Back!" Fritz commanded.

"Out of their range, let them fall on the sand." They backed up another five feet, then the first of the soaring sharks struck the shore. Fritz expected the monster to slap against the sands and then proceed to writhe around helplessly on dry land as any fish would. What he saw instead sent a shiver down his spine. The shark's eyes flashed with clear blue light that expanded and slid over its long fins and powerful body, wrapping it in a translucent, slippery force.

It plunged into the shore as if it were water, swimming through the sand as easily as if it were the ocean it had just leapt from. Fritz gulped as he saw the rest of the pack arc down gracefully through the air, all gleaming with their own shimmering force and plummeting like a shower of falling knives.

"Sand Sharks!" Toby yelled.

"Turtle!" Fritz ordered and his team quickly obeyed, rushing into the rehearsed formation. Jane, Lauren and Cal moved to the centre while those with greater defences and melee ability encircled them, facing outwards and prepared to meet the oncoming foes. Switching formation at the last second wasn't a great idea, but Fritz was sure they'd soon be surrounded and he couldn't risk the back line against such a swarm. He activated his barrier ring and around him, those of his team with such Treasures did the same.

Though he knew his Danger Sense should feel murky, shrouded, like his other Senses, Fritz could feel the approaching tearing teeth rending the meat of his calf. He was glad he had chosen the evolution he did, and swiftly stepped out of what was the first of many to-be bites coming for his flesh. Within a second the shark spat out from the sand and snapped at where his leg had been a mere moment before. Fritz thrust Quicksilver's razor point forward.

It met the rough yet smooth hide of the shark, and with little resistance, it skewered the overgrown, over-fanged fish. He drew the blade out in a smooth motion and the beast fell to the shore, flailing in agony and attempting to dig below the white sand. It spilled red blood onto the pristine white, and its shimmering coating had disappeared with Fritz's strike. It struggled and shuddered, but soon it died. He must have struck it somewhere vital.

Fritz wasn't done, another shark leapt from the ground only to meet Mortal Edge and have its side split open. Orange light and warmth blew over him from behind and the smell of burning fish permeated the air. Fritz took the time to glance around at his team, only to see them handling themselves with skill. A calm fell over his shoulders as he saw Bert kick a shark straight out of the air while George sliced one in two with his shining blade.

Rosie was a flurry of hacking and stabbing, and even when a shark bit down on her its teeth ground against her hard scales without breaking them. Cal and Jane wielded spears from the protection of the circle, piercing the sharks that somehow slipped through the defensive line or came through from under the sands. Lauren of course, waited and watched for whenever she could catch more than three together with her fire breath.

Though they were swarmed, and they were outnumbered by at least thirty sharks, his team, Fritz included, didn't waver. More to-be bites rasped over his flesh and Fritz returned his focus to taking down as many sharks as he could. Gracefully he dodged and ducked the leaping monsters, slashing and stabbing them as they attempted to strike or pass him. Sever screamed, fire bloomed and Bert laughed. The sounds of flesh being slapped and sliced filled the air.

After a minute of fighting, there were only three fins circling the panting, bleeding team. Fritz, Bert and George, as the least hurt, stepped forward to meet the last of their foes, and dispatched them with ease when the sharks attempted to lunge for their throats. After it was done, Fritz and George wiped their blades clean of the bright blood while Bert kicked a still-twitching beast, putting it out of its misery.

"That wasn't so bad," Cal said as Jane repaired a cut down his arm. Fritz was about to contradict him out of reflex, but when he took in the condition of his team he had to agree with his statement. While no one, save himself, had come out completely unscathed their wounds were minor and easily taken care of by Jane's healing Ability. Even Bert who had thrown himself into the fight with wild abandon only sported a couple of bite marks, none of them deep enough to scar that man's Tough Skin.

"You're right," Fritz said, leaning on Quicksilver and peering over the battlefield, littered with dead, dying and burning sharks.

"Well done team, you handled the unexpected charge with great skill."

"Let's get these fish ready to be fried," Bert said, hauling up a shark onto his shoulders.

"That fight made me hungry."

"That's fitting," Fritz said.

"Bite for bite."