Chương 185: Skill Ring

The building that the Stingbreath had initially burst out of was in ruins. Its front facade had crumbled, leaving the supports for the upper level weak. It would take days for the Labyrinth Keepers to repair that. They swarmed over the rubble, covering the marble in glowing blue patina as they eroded tiny chunks of the stone and moved it back into place. As we passed them, I knelt down, trying to get a good look at one. They reminded me of tiny ants, especially with the way they always moved in orderly lines.

But I didn't have time to dawdle. Anchor and I set off into the ruins of the building while Sage and Brawl recovered on the street behind us. If they needed help, I'd hear them. There was nothing on the first floor. A few shattered amphoras with nothing but dust inside them, a counter made of granite, and a few stone tablets with letters I couldn't read. I was about to climb the rubble to the second floor, but I stopped myself. I could do better than climb.

I hadn't really gotten a chance to test out my jumping yet, but with my Strength significantly higher than an average man's, I should be able to do a lot more. I crouched down, then, without the help of an Art, I sprang up through a hole in the ceiling and landed on the second level. The floor shuddered beneath me, and I steadied myself with my arms out.

"Woah…" I muttered. Anchor jumped up behind me, but he stuck the landing better.

"I hear they have an obstacle course for us next week. We'll actually get to put our attributes to good use, Sarge." I tilted my head.

"We have been putting them to good use…"

"We just haven't really experimented with them enough. We've never pushed our obscure limits. Flipping rocks and running is nice, but we can do more."

"We'll see how we fare against an obstacle course, then," I said. Still, out of curiosity, I bent down and picked up a chunk of rubble, then cracked it in my grip. Stone. Marble. It broke with only a mild exertion of effort. A line of Labyrinth Keepers stopped right in front of me. They had been moving toward a wall, intending on slowly repairing it, but now they turned toward the rock I'd crushed and the dust in my hand, looking at me like a disappointed parent.

I set the cracked rock down and whispered, "Sorry, guys." The Keepers kept moving, and I turned away, looking around the room. Maybe the Stingbreath had just been passing through, and we wouldn't find any rewards. As I glanced around, looking for any sign of loot, my heart sank. Was there really nothing? Well, I had to get disappointed at some point, and if this was the worst of my disappointment, then—"Over here!" Anchor called. He leaned over an intact amphora in the corner. I rushed over as well and leaned over.

A tiny brass ring sat in the bottom, its edges etched with the same unintelligible script as the tablets down below. Otherwise, it was simple, with rounded gold edges and not a touch of rust.

"Oh, hell no, I'm not touching that," I said, backing away.

"What?" Anchor reached into the amphora and plucked the ring out, then tossed it over to me. I spread my arms so it bounced off my chest. It fell and clinked along the ground.

"Sargeant, what's wrong?" Anchor demanded.

"It's just a ring. It barely has a Steel-tier arcane weight to it."

"You can sense its tier?"

"Arcane items should have a comparable tier to Path-walkers," he said.

"My Perception is high enough to pick up on it. Your helmet, for example, is just Iron-tier. Your spear is Titanium."

"And the ring is just Steel…" I knelt over it, then poked it. It was as light as a brass ring ought to be. Besides, the markings on the sides weren't very neat. They may not have been legible even to the people of the old empire who made it.

"So it's not going to make me start hissing ' My Precious?'?"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Sarge?"

"Nevermind." I picked up the ring.

"How common are magic rings?"

"Some Path-walkers use rings to create pockets of space and store items in them." Anchor shrugged.

"A trick they picked up from the Far East. Most rings are just decorative, but some can have a Skill embedded in them, I believe, just like the enchanted weapons Shatter told you about. This one might have a weak fodder Skill attached to it. We'll have to bring it to Drywsone to see what it is, though." If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Huh." I picked up the ring, then put it in my kit bag, along with the Presence.

"Now, stop babbling about obscure references from your old world and come back with us."

"Hey, the One Ring isn't an obscure reference…" I said under my breath, but I still led the way back to Sage and Brawl. That was awfully lucky, even if it was just a weak treasure, to find something. Or maybe I wasted all my luck on a trinket like that for no good reason. But I'd take it. And maybe I could carry the luck forward, in training, and in the lands that I'd taken charge of. Either way, we had to get back to the surface. I stopped in front of Sage. Her eyes were glassy, and she swayed, coughing.

"You look exhausted," I said.

"I used all my Presence, dustbrain," she replied.

"And I absorbed some of the pain. Someone's going to have to carry me back." Anchor and I glanced at Brawl. He was awake again, and he sat upright.

"Yes, brothers, I can carry her." ~ ~ ~ When we arrived back at the dish, another squad was getting off it. They only had about a quarter hour left, but everyone wanted to start exploring, no matter how little time there was. Before the elevator rose, we hopped on as a team.

"You know," Sage told Brawl, "you don't have to carry me like a cat." He held her by the back of her shawl like someone holding the scruff of a cat's neck, the same way he always carried her.

"You could go for a princess carry," I suggested with a grin.

"Under the arms." Brawl shook his head.

"If I have to carry Morph as well, brother, I cannot." Brawl had wrapped the main bulk of Morph's limp body under his arm. Without any Presence, Sage couldn't use him, so he reverted to a lump of vines and branches, almost like a ball of wool. Some strands trailed behind as they'd walked back to the elevator.

"We're almost back," Anchor said.

"You'll survive a little longer, both of you." Once we returned to the surface, we claimed our weekly Presence stipend—which was mostly a gift from Lord Ceonwin—then dropped Sage and Morph off at their room in the druids' barracks for her to recover. I sprinted to the blacksmith shop right after, with Brawl and Anchor close behind. When we arrived, Drywsone greeted us. I placed the ring down on the counter and said, "We found this. Could you tell us what it has on it, please?"

Drywsone picked it up with his bare hands and held it up to the light.

"A fealty token from the old empire. It was a wedding ring, essentially. A pledge of allegiance between a man and wife."

"Is it dangerous?" I asked.

"Most likely not. If it is harmful, that's only because of the Skill embedded in it." He paused.

"The old empire was capable of embedding abilities in equipment, just like the best of our blacksmiths can do to Imperial Steel today. You Dupes can take those abilities and use them as Skills."

"How's that harmful?" Anchor asked.

"If it's a Skill that doesn't mesh well with your build, it could weaken your merges. You could, of course, use it as fodder, but it's always better to use fodder that aligns slightly with the other Skills that you're looking to merge."

"Do you know what Skill it has on it?"

"Give me a few minutes." He carried it back into the sheltered section of his blacksmith shop and observed it under a magnifying glass. Next, he dropped it in a mug of water—or some other clear alchemical substance that looked like water. Finally, he held it over the hearth until it glowed (thankfully, no glowing orange runes lit up on its side). All the while, he jotted down notes and hummed to himself.

Finally, he returned to the counter and said, "My best guess is that it would give a Dupe a Novice- or Apprentice-tier Skill for chain-making." I dipped my head.

"Not particularly useful for me, then." Anchor shook his head.

"Me neither. But Brawl…"

"How could I use that, brother?"

"I bet it could help with a specific fighting style and…I dunno, things to do with your flail's chain. I haven't researched your Skills much." Brawl tilted his head.

"If you insist, I will use it." He held out his hands.

"Not so fast, there," Drywsone said.

"It will work better if we attach it to your armour. I'll have Shatter reshape it into an ornament and put it on your pauldron for you. We'll just use the regular scrap you gathered on the upper level. When you upgrade your armour to Imperial Steel, we can transfer it. Come back at the end of the week, and you can—""Sir Levi!" a voice shouted from behind me. I whirled around to find Sir Sidal running across the castle grounds, racing toward me.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Lord Ceonwin's men caught a messenger flash-raven. They suspected it was for Lord Ceonwin, since it originate from Eraen-Kalora." Sir Sidal stopped in front of me, panting.

"But the message it carried was for you."

"For…me?" I blinked.

"Someone in Eraen-Kalora wants to speak with me?"

"It would seem so. But it's not right for a thegn to open another thegn's letters."

"I'll be right there," I said.

"Lead on." I sprinted after him, racing to the keep. We climbed to the very top, where there was a flat roof surrounded by merlons. Orange Gate flags fluttered in the wind. A pair of regular Dupes in gambesons and leather gloves held a raven. It looked like a normal raven, save for a silver coating on the tip of its beak, and for its wings. The tips of its flight feathers glowed faintly orange in the mid-day light.

"It was carrying this. For you, sir." One of the Dupes handed me a letter rolled up as a scroll, and I unrolled it. My eyes widened.