Chương 118: Arc 2 - Chapter 60

George dropped into his Sanctum, felt the heat of the forge, and saw the orange glow reflected on the swords he proudly displayed on the stone brick walls. He didn't let himself get distracted by the different shapes and makes of his blades, instead, he called upon his Spire sheet.

Spire Readout Name: George Anchor Level: 9 Path: Swordsman Strain: Human Attributes Strength: 15 Agility: 9 Endurance: 18 Perception: 9 Focus: 6 Memory: 0 Advanced Attributes Might: 12 Speed: 9 Essence of Fire: 6 Essence of Metal: 9 Activated 2/3 Sharpen Blade With some honing, an edge can sing, sheathe in sharpness, and set to swing.

Harden Metal Stronger, tougher, surely len t, braced and bolstered, never ben t.

Passive 2/3 Armourclad Acclimation When wearing iron, mind your gait, walk with purpose, to ease the weight.

Sure Grip Fingers rigid, clutching on, a grip like iron, holding strong.

Trait 1/3 Forgeheart Pumping, pounding, hammer's beat. Scorching, striving, brutal heat.

Path 1/3 Sever The razored edge, the sword's sharp call, the brightest blade, cleaves through all.

Technique 1/3 Peak Splitter (Novice) Mountains, monsters, all the same, mete out slaughter, be titan's bane.

Strain 0/3 There it was, and the Technique was one of the renowned styles. It was an enormous boon, a wondrous find. He laughed, he leapt, he swept a sword off the wall and swished it around in great gleaming arcs. He spun like he was dancing. Suddenly he stopped, he had to share the good news. He placed the sword back on its hooks and made to leave his Sanctum.

"What is it? Is it the mist style?" Bert asked as soon as George opened his eyes. The mention of mist style dampened his mood somewhat, he had been hoping the same, even if the stances and sweeps felt nothing like mist would. Or so he had guessed. But nothing could suppress the joy in his heart at discovering the amazing Technique he had learned.

"No, not the mist style," George said, drawing out the silence, letting the two stew in the anticipation.

"Come on, tell us already," Rosie hissed.

"Peak Splitter," he announced quietly. Bert grinned wide and Rosie tilted her head.

"Is that a good one?" She asked.

"Must be," Bert said "Look at his grin."

"It is 'a good one'," George explained.

"It comes from the Eternal Kingdom. I heard that there's a Mountain Spire and that the mountain peaks around it grow like trees. This Technique was devised to cut the ever-growing peaks down like wheat for harvest. It also worked ruin on their local monsters, and titans."

"That's absurd," Bert said.

"Now I want to use a sword. Lucky bastard." With those last words an old hurt stirred and George frowned. Bert winced.

"Sorry, George," he said.

"I didn't mean anything by it. Most of us here are bastards one way or another." George nodded, accepting the man's apology. And it's not like it really mattered, not anymore. He was a Pather, a wielder of the powerful Peak Splitter Technique and soon, if things went well, he'd complete a Golden Climb. Only in his wildest dreams had he hoped for such. Before he had met Fritz, he had resigned himself to a steady grind, eventually resulting in a Bronze Climb.

Though, if he was lucky, and succeeded in reaching the precipice on one of his first three attempts, he would have been proud, ecstatic even, to finish a Silver Climb. That was neither here nor there, again, not anymore, he was well on his way to further, loftier, heights. One more Floor and he'd be able to show everyone what he was worth. Some petty part of him wanted to rub their faces in it, including his father's ever-disappointed scowl.

"So what does the Technique do?" Rosie asked.

"I... uh... didn't look at it," George admitted.

"Got too excited?" Bert said.

"What? No, I just-" George protested.

"I understand," Bert interrupted soberly, leaning over and laying a hand on George's shoulder.

"Fighting is fun." Bert squeezed and George laughed at how serious the man looked. Bert broke into another grin and laughed with him. There was an annoyed grunt and Cal turned over and glared at them.

"Sorry," Bert and George said in unison. Cal glowered.

"Now that you're up, how about breakfast?" Bert asked hopefully. Cal grumbled some curses and rolled over in a huff.

"I guess that's a no," Bert said.

"Just give him a couple more hours," Rosie said.

"He'll be right by then."

"But I'm hungry now," Bert complained insincerely.

"I'm going to check my Technique," George stated, retreating into the heat of his Sanctum. He strode away from the forge and into the armoury, where barrels and tables held various armour and armaments. Though most of the items within were swords. He brought up his Spire sheet again and focused on the Technique glyphs.

Technique Peak Splitter Mountains, monsters, all the same, mete out slaughter, be titan's bane. Gives minor benefits to Strength and Might when striking with swords. Armour and Durability are less effective against your sword's edge. These benefits increase when you are standing in place. These benefits increase when you fight foes of greater size. These benefits increase when you fight foes who outnumber you. Abilities gained and Evolved are more likely to be influenced with these effects.

You read, practised and understood the Techniques in the replicated tiles of The Wall of the Peak Splitter's Instructions.

Amazing. Truly powerful. With this Technique, his strikes would be devastating even without using Sever. And with it, he would be a true terror. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. He couldn't wait to test it. He left his Sanctum and explained what he had read to Bert and Rosie.

"Wow," Bert said appreciatively.

"I know," George said, letting some pride seep into his voice.

"Wish I had somethin' like that," Rosie said.

"What?" Bert said putting on an air of affront.

"Is the Arte Pugilist not good enough for you? Was all our training wasted?"

"Not wasted," Rosie said, grinning.

"I like wrestling. It's fun." George coughed as the two grinned at each other.

"I could teach both of you the Technique if you wanted," he offered.

"Nah," Bert said.

"My style requires mobility, I can't afford to stay still. And I don't use swords."

"Now that you say it, I don't use swords either," Rosie said thoughtfully.

"And I have to move around to protect the team. No good for me either." George could understand their reasoning, but it was a little disappointing not being able to share his new Technique. Perhaps Fritz would be interested, and it might be fun sparring with the man. The conversation died down, Bert yawned and told George to wake him when breakfast was ready. Rosie also decided to take a nap, she said she ached all over and had to sleep it off to take he mind off it. She was acting grumpy, so George just nodded.

Though he felt drained himself, his mind was aflame with curiosity. He went back to his tiles, the replica tiles he now knew, and began to pour over them again. Hours passed, and finally, Cal woke, he didn't start on breakfast right away as the pan needed to be heated and Lauren still slept. The woman slept as still as a doll, she made not a sound as her chest only barely rose and fell. It was somewhat eerie, and somewhat at odds with his impression of what a fire mage should be like.

Though she wasn't typical, none of them really were. Cal would also glance to her, obviously afraid to wake her. There was more than a little affection in his eyes, but he no longer stared at her like a gormless fool. It was only a slight improvement. George shook his head, that man was as blind as a skulg. There was no romance to be had in that harbour. Eventually, Lauren awoke, and she was almost happy to assist in heating the pan.

Soon sizzling could be heard and Bert didn't even have to be roused, he was up in moments. In fact, all of the team, save Fritz, were up and waiting to be served.

"I'm going to need a bigger pan," Cal groused.

Fritz woke to the sound of retching, which wasn't a good way to wake. Though at least it wasn't his own sickness being splattered over the distraught and disgusted Toby.

"Does anyone have a bucket?" Toby cried.

"Here," George said, handing him the iron pot which was quickly given to Jane. She clutched at it hard with pale fingers, and retched further, losing what remained in her stomach. Fritz grimaced, reconsidering how true her claim of being with child was. It could still be a scheme, she could have induced this bout of sickness. But it didn't match what he knew of her, and anyone who had faced starvation wouldn't waste a full belly in such a way. It wouldn't even occur to them.

No, it looked like she hadn't been lying about that. He was quite sure of it now. And it made him glad he hadn't punished them as his Dusksong demanded. He knew there wasn't much logic to it, no rationality, but the raw disgust he felt at the thought of slaughtering a mother and child made him feel as sick as Jane looked. Maybe it had something to do with losing his own mother- No, none of that, not now.

"Fritz, you're awake. Good morning," George said.

"Fritz!" Bert cried.

"George learnt the Technique on the tiles. Oh, and are you feeling better?"

"I am, and I know," Fritz stated, he turned his gaze to George and added, "Well done, I knew you could do it." He, of course, did not believe what he said, but the man smiled a lot and blushed a little. It must have been the heat. It was getting rather stuffy in the Well Room, what with the whole team bunched up as they were. The smell of sick reached Fritz's nose, and he almost refused the bowl of shark strips presented to him. He didn't as he couldn't afford to pass up a meal. Not with what was ahead of them.

He listened to George expound on his new Technique, Peak Splitter. Fritz had heard of it in passing and was interested before he heard the benefits it conferred. It would be basically useless for his own style of combat. He required something fast and flighty, graceful, like the mist style was said to be, not something that was made to cut mountains. Though the image did appeal to him. Fritz sighed inwardly, he wasn't that kind of stalwart hero, he was another sort entirely, gallant and guileful.

He did agree, however, to sparring with the man, perhaps at the precipice or perhaps after. It would be good to test his skills against such an opponent and seemingly George wanted to continue in this team. Fritz would be glad to have him, the man was solid and strong, even if he was not one to talk much. Though that could be an advantage in a Climbing team, especially as people began to get on each other's nerves. Like Cal and Toby were right now.

"Just cook another," Toby said sourly.

"What so she could spit it up again?" Cal argued.

"We have enough shark don't we?" Toby replied.

"We do, but we shouldn't waste it," Cal stated.

"It's not a waste," Toby growled. Fritz was about to intervene when Lauren did for him.

"Cal, be a dear and do it would you," she said sweetly.

"You wouldn't really deny someone in her condition, would you?" She added with a sublimely subtle pout. Cal sighed.

"No, of course not," he said, setting another fillet of pale flesh on the pan.

"Heat please." Lauren acquiesced, then glared at Toby as if he should know better. And he should know better, even Fritz knew you never fought with the cook. Just like he realised he had been doing all along. Inwardly he shrugged. His bones could take care of any toxins, and Cal was too terrified of his wrath to even think of tampering with his food. Or so Fritz hoped. When all had eaten breakfast, Fritz called a meeting.

He needn't have, it was impossible to speak in such small confines without including everyone in the conversation.

"We have a choice of Three Doors, though I think we should rest up a little more before going through the very last Floor," Fritz declared.

"What about the spite?" Cal asked, glancing darkly at Toby who glowered back.

"It seems to have levelled off, somewhat," Fritz said.

"I haven't felt any bursts or changes and the Doors feel the same to my Senses for now."

"I wonder why that is," Lauren said while brushing her dark hair absently.

"Do you think it will get worse when we go through the next Door?"

"I don't know," Fritz said.

"Maybe." Lauren frowned, she looked down at her brush, noticed something amiss and pulled out a hair from its bristles.

"Does this look... redder to you?" She asked holding the strand out. It did. Or at least it did to Fritz, and he said so while the others merely shrugged.

"Damn," Lauren sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Essence of Fire. I think it's changing my hair colour," Lauren explained.

"It can do that?" Bert asked.

"I've heard rumours, tales really, that it can," Lauren said.

"Why is that bad? You'd look great as a redhead," Cal said eagerly. Lauren frowned, seemingly unimpressed by the compliment.

"It's just so..." she began.

"Cliche," Jane and Lauren said together, then they shared a smile.

"What's through these Doors, Fritz?" Bert asked, turning everyone's attention back to him.

"Another shore, with monsters, and some sort of limes, which leads me to think of jungle," he explained.

"Got some sort of Citrus Sense now?" Toby asked drily.

"If only," Fritz said, feigning despair.

"I merely scented them on the breeze."

"Mmm, some lime juice would go good with the shark," Bert said.

"I vote that Door."

"Maybe we should hear about the others first," Jane said.

"Rather than vote with our bellies."

"Quite," Lauren agreed.

"The middle Door is underwater as you can plainly see," Fritz continued.

"It is also riddled with monsters."

"No good. We may have the potions and gill-grease, but our Powers don't work well underwater," Lauren stated.

"I agree," Cal said.

"As do I," Fritz said.

"The last, and my least regarded Door, is the right one. There seems to be no monsters within, but something about it makes me uneasy. Like there's some invisible weight beyond that would press upon us, unyielding, as we traversed the floor."

"I don't like it. Just lookin' at it makes me feel like my clothes are too heavy," Rosie added.

"That would be your Awareness divining some of the hidden signs," Fritz stated, nodding in agreement.

"It's also pink," Bert said as if it offended him.

"Is that a terrible crime now, is it?" Lauren asked.

"It is for a Door," Bert espoused.

"So we have monsters and limes, monsters and water and a heavy walk?" Toby asked, ignoring the absurdity.

"That's right," Fritz said. The team went quiet, considering the choices before them.

"Any idea what kind of monsters?" Cal asked hopefully. Fritz hesitated but quickly decided to tell them what he knew. It was the last floor, and with the spite looming over them, he could see no reason to be as guarded with them. He'd rather put off his death for the outside, if it could be helped.

"Hmm," he hummed, pretending to ponder.

"The lime Door's monsters felt... eely."

"Eely?" Jane asked sceptically.

"You mean eerie," Toby said.

"I mean what I said," Fritz protested.

"Eely, eelful, as in full of eels."

"Eels you say," Bert said.

"That rings a bell."

"Does it?" Fritz asked blandly.

"Yes. Remember Therima and Sertine?" Bert said.

"No," Fritz said.

"The Raider's team?" Bert provided.

"Oh, right, those two," Fritz said, feeling only slightly annoyed he needed the reminder.

"They said their last Floor had eels on it," Bert regaled him and the team.

"I didn't catch all that," Fritz said.

"I was more preoccupied with the crazed raider glaring at me. You see, I had the strange sense he was plotting my murder. I wonder why."

"Yes, yes. I get it, you were distracted by the strange, scowling, bearded man," Bert said. Fritz narrowed his eyes and Bert continued, "Anyway, before you arrived, they were telling me the tale of their own Climb up the Mer Spire."

"And they mentioned eels," Toby said.

"They did... lightning eels," Bert said. Fritz grimaced and the rest of the team frowned.

"That's not so bad," Rosie said.

"They're harmless, just a little shock. Unless they bite you, they hold on like bastards."

"These would be monstrous eels," Lauren said with a sigh.

"I suspect their 'small shock' will be far more intense."

"Deadly even," Fritz posited.

"The pink door is starting to sound more appealing," Jane said.

"At least with the eels we'll know what we'll be up against," Bert said.

"If it's the same Door," Fritz countered.

"Which is unlikely."

"Probably impossible," Lauren added.

"You're right," Bert sighed.

"And here I was getting excited to fight an aberrant eel."

"Aberrant!?" Most of the team cried.

"Oh, I must have missed that. Yeah, there was a really big one that loomed above the water and loosed bolts of lightning," Bert explained.

"Sertine said he used his swords to draw the lightning away. Turned them to slag!"

"And you want to fight it?" Jane hissed incredulously.

"What am I saying? Of course you do. You idiot."

"Doesn't matter now," Bert grumbled.

"Alas! No aberrant beast to slay at the top of this Spire."

"Alas, my foot," Fritz grumbled.

"If, as you say, there was an aberrant and it wasn't slain. It changes things," Lauren said.

"It does?" Fritz inquired.

"It does!?" Bert blurted.

"Yes. Apparently, Doors with aberrant beasts are 'sticky'," she explained.

"Sticky? Feels rough to me," Bert said, rubbing a hand on the Door's sandy edge. Lauren rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," she said. Bert grinned.

"And what does 'sticky' mean?" Fritz asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, but doors with an aberrant are like persistent Doors," she explained.

"Spires keep them open until the aberrant is destroyed, though sometimes they move the Doors around."

"And change them?" Fritz asked, thinking of the Hound's Floor and the strange ageing he had witnessed. She shook her head.

"I haven't heard that."

"And where did you hear all this? Are you some sort of Guide's child? Like-" Toby asked, cut off by a soft elbow from Jane.

"No, I'm not. I heard this from a friend," Lauren said primly, smoothing her robes.

"From Sapphire," Bert grinned, a teasing gleam in his eye. Lauren ignored the man.

"My friend works with the Guides Guild. She's an apprentice," she espoused.

"I thought she was an appraiser," Cal said.

"That's part of the Guide training," Lauren said.

"Makes sense. The best way to grab the best loot is to know what is most valuable," Toby said.

"Another way to cheat the Climbers," Fritz groused.

"Sapphire assured me that they wouldn't do so. It would damage the Guild's reputation," Lauren said, tilting her chin slightly upwards.

"Yeah, that's if the Climbers they cheated ever find out," Toby said, voicing Fritz's own thoughts.

"They'd find out once they get to the market," Lauren said.

"If they're not cheated there too," Jane said.

"All of you really are cynical. Paranoid. Not a scrap of trust to be had between you all," Lauren observed, frowning.

"Thank you," Fritz said, smirking.

"It wasn't a compliment," she replied.

"Nevertheless, you can't tell me that you or your mother haven't tricked some poor Climber. Paid them far less than what the item was worth," Fritz said.

"How does the saying go? An honest merchant is a poor merchant?" Lauren didn't answer, her face a mask of indifference. Fritz took the silence as an admission, but he wasn't willing to spend more time on this topic when they still had to decide on the Doors.

"So it might well be the Door filled with lightning eels," he stated.

"It might well be," Lauren agreed, seemingly glad that the conversation had moved on.

"Anyone notice anything else or have any ideas?" Fritz asked. The team waited for some moments before Rosie spoke up.

"My ring makes eels like me, or could lure them to me, that should help if we go with the left Door."

"Huh," Fritz said. He had never thought the thing to be useful.

"Another point for the eely Door," Bert said eagerly.

"Speaking of rings, I should recharge my barrier ring," Fritz said, mostly to Lauren, who held the gold. She quickly took his meaning and handed him the sack with their triads within. He fed his empty ring triads until it could eat no more, which turned out to be six of the remaining twelve triads. He grimaced as the meagre coins clinked. To his finely tuned ears, it sounded like poverty.

"Didn't you lot pry off some of the gold gilding in the vault? What happened to that?" He asked. Bert glowered.

"It was fake. Fake! Can you believe that?!"

"I can," Fritz said.

"Probably some stupid lesson about how knowledge is the true treasure."

"That is stupid," Bert agreed.

"Can I fill my ring too?" Rosie asked.

"If we're going to fight eels the bait power could group them together for a roastin'."

"Very tactically astute, Rosie," Fritz said.

"If we pick that Door, we should absolutely do so." Again the team went quiet. Fritz retreated into his thoughts, pondering the way forward. He immediately discarded the thought of taking the underwater floor, it was as Lauren said, their powers weren't well suited for the depths. So for him, it was between the leftmost and rightmost Doors. He considered the impression of heaviness he had sensed from the pink Door. It would be tough, but bearable.

Unfortunately, there was no telling what the spite would do on a Floor with no monsters. The effects might even be worse, and he suspected the Spire would increase the heaviness, gradually increasing it until they fell or were crushed. It almost pained him to agree with Bert, the eel Door seemed the best of their options, even if it contained the aberrant.

At least they would know what they were going to fight, and if it was a different Floor entirely that would still be easier to handle than the unassailable weight. It just wasn't something you could fight with weapons or their meagre magics. With his own thoughts aligned, he called the vote.

"Right Door," he announced. No one raised their hands.

"Middle Door," he stated. Again, no votes.

"Left Door," Fritz sighed, putting up his own hand as Bert's own flew into the air. The rest of the team's arms went up, tentatively. And so the way was chosen.