Chapter 110

Creeping around the crates, I kept my Cloak of Shadows wrapped about me. In the flickering light cast by the candles, I wasn’t really concealed, but at least if someone stumbled into the room I would look more like a blot of darkness rather than an eight-year-old kid.

Now that I had a moment to think, I decided to deal with the waiting notification, just in case it could help me in some way.

You have advanced the Tier of your Path! Path of Shadowing I (18/10)

Reward: 1 Extra Skill Slots, Skill Seed (Shadowing) (Lesser), 2 Unallocated Stats

Not enough free Skill Slots available. Reward of Skill Seed (Shadowing) (Lesser) provided as a physical object.

The slick black marble appeared in my hand and I stored it in a pocket on the inner lining of my coat. I considered for a moment whether I should apply the Unallocated Stats to Aethersensing, but I doubted it would give me any advantage so I put them in Gifted as usual. The extra Skill Slot was nice, but not enough to make room for a Lesser Skill.

Normally, I would have revelled in the rewards, but now was not the time. Instead, I quietly lifted one of the lids. Inside was just a pile of cut bamboo. I moved onto the next, working my way through as many crates as I could just in case one of them would present a solution to my problem. No such luck presented itself. The crates were mostly bamboo, alongside some jars filled with herbs or clear water, and a couple of nuggets of stone striated with some raw ores — all likely taken from the Rift they mentioned I decided.

The only good news was that at least it told me which Dungeon they had opened a Rift to. The Echoing Depths was the only Dungeon on the northern continent where you could find bamboo. That information didn’t help me in the slightest. There were no weapons, potions, or even tools I thought I could use to help me.

With my exploration of the storage room finished, I decided to go and see if I could find the two people that Severin had said were staying to keep an eye on the sleeping Nazim. I crept up to the alcove where Severin and Oscar had emerged from, and peeked my head around the corner. A small hallway led deeper into the smugglers hold, or whatever this place was, splitting at the end into two new doorways on the left and right. No candles or lanterns lit the hallway, but I could see light coming from the doorway on the left up ahead.

Ever so carefully, I snuck down the hallway, checking the dark room on the right first by hugging my body to the left wall. More crates filled the second storage room. These ones were open with their lids stacked against the wall. Extra storage, I decided.

I could hear the quiet mutter of voices from the other room and shifted just enough to spy around the corner. This room was the largest so far. On the far side, chained to the floor, lay my sleeping bodyguard. I watched closely, making sure I could still see the rise and fall of his chest to confirm he was alive. If he wasn’t, then there was no point to me staying. Thankfully, I could see him breathing. A small weight lifted from my shoulders.

I couldn’t tell very well from where I was, but it looked like something had been carved into the stone floor around the chains and I could see dark red stains on the stones beneath Nazim. Without knowing much about rituals, I was guessing that it was probably silver inlaid into the floor — a ritual circle.

Anger flared inside of me — not just because they were going to try and sacrifice my friend, but because he clearly wasn’t the first. Why did people have to be such assholes? Grinding my teeth, I shifted a bit further to see more of the room. Two people, a man and a woman, were talking quietly while sitting on a couple of chairs and playing cards. A wooden bottle sat between them that they seemed to be sharing. On the makeshift table they were using to play their game was one of the two candles lighting up the room.

The second candle was closer to me by the door and lit up the final thing of note in the room. Another runeplate circle had been set up, this one casually laid across the floor and forming a barrier around a shimmering haze in the air that stretched almost to the roof. I had never seen a Rift before, but my Adventurer’s Compendium had described them. To me, it just looked like heat waves or a thin layer of water hanging and shifting in midair. The rippling doorway looked wide enough for two people to enter side by side. Either way, it spelled danger.

With one last glance at Jemma and Hodge, I snuck back down the hallway to hide behind the crates while I considered my options. I wasn’t exactly sure how long I had been down here, but I was guessing I had somewhere between four to five candles before the other cultists returned. Nazim was safe until then.

The question was, could I get back to The Golden Purse in that timeframe? I was reasonably confident that if I could get out of the sewers then I could find my way back to the inn — perhaps Aunt Agnes and Mum even had people out looking for me. The problem was, how the hell was I going to get out of the sewers?

On our ill-fated stalking of Severin, I had only seen a few little grates like the one I had shimmied down, and I had absolutely no confidence in getting back up one of those drains. They were slick, slimy, and unless they miraculously had some handholds, my Controlled Grip Skill wasn’t going to help. As for doors like the entrance the cultists used, well, I had only seen that one and it was locked with a key. I was betting Jemma or Hodge had one to unlock that door, but that meant somehow getting it off them. There was no approach towards them with the candles lighting that room, so it wasn’t like I could just steal and slip away.

That left really only two options as I saw it. Head back into the sewers and wander around, hoping for the best — or, try to free Nazim. When I put it like that it wasn’t even really a choice. There was no way I would leave my friend's life up to chance — I wouldn’t watch someone else I cared about die.

Shoving down the memory of Lucille bleeding out, I started looking around the room. What could I do? Even if I was gifted beyond belief, I was still an eight-year-old about to contend with a couple of adults. They might have lifestyle Class Paths, but they would still be stronger than me, faster than me, and potentially have Skills that could flip any of my plans on their head. Plus, depending on how many people they had sacrificed down here, they probably had at least Lesser Aether Cores. I hoped not, but I was planning for the worst.

I took stock of what I had — which was basically bugger all. My sword was on my hip, a Lesser Skill Seed in my pocket, which I couldn’t use, and the items in the crates around the room. Sure, the stuff they had pulled out of the Rift was probably worth more than a few aether coins, but it was all junk to me at this moment.

What I did have, besides my sword, were my Skills. My eyes drifted to the candles lighting the room as a plan started to form. My mind settling on what I intended to do, I committed myself to getting the most out of it. Shifting the Path of Shadowing to dormant and losing the extra eight steps, I slotted in the Path of Ambushing.

Moving around the room, I drew my sword in one hand and re-applied my Nightvision spell. As I snuffed out the two candles, plunging the room into darkness, I remembered a dream from years ago — the night I had progressed my Shadow Affinity to Potent. This room was now a world of shadows, and in this place, with my Cloak of Shadows draped about my body, I was royalty.

The stage set, I pushed over one of the chairs, letting it clatter against the dirt floor before slipping away to hug the wall behind some crates that were near the alcove leading to their ritual chamber.

The gentle swish of light footsteps followed before a feminine voice called down the hall. “My Lord, is that you?”

Silence was her only answer.

“Someone there, Jemma?” asked a gruff voice.

“I don’t think so. Dark down there though. I think the candle has fallen over.”

“Well, go fix it then.”

The woman grumbled something about lazy sods. Instead of the footsteps approaching, I heard them walking away — then a pause — then they were once more moving towards me with a flickering light growing brighter. From where I hid, I could see Jemma walking down the hallway, candle in one hand and a small dagger gripped tightly in the other.

Silently, I swore. I had hoped it would be Hodge who came down the hallway.

Jemma turned the corner, heading for the table that held the candle and paused. It was as though I could see the gears turning in her head as she looked at the scene. I imagined she was wondering why the candle was still standing but one of the chairs had toppled over. In that space, while she paused in consideration, I activated Muffled Aura and stole forward quickly. With my sword held in front of me, and unwilling to risk the chance she was wearing armour beneath her loose black dress, I performed the Warden’s Lunge aiming upwards at the back of her neck.

Years of practice came together as my blade slipped into her flesh with almost no resistance. She didn’t even have a chance to make a noise before she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The gentle thump made less noise than when I had tipped over the chair and the candle she carried had been snuffed out as it landed on the floor.

Ignoring the new notification in the corner of my vision, I considered my options quickly.

If I were Hodge, and Jemma didn’t return or answer, what would I do? I thought.

The answer was pretty obvious. Since I was basically trapped in a room, I would go to investigate, but I would be far more wary. The cultist still had another candle, and if he was careful enough, could likely prevent me from getting a good angle to attack where he wouldn’t see me coming. In short, I would be risking my life and that of Nazim’s on the flip of a coin.

Reaching down, I pried the smaller dagger from Jemma’s grip and tucked it into my belt while blood spread across the floor around the wound to the back of her head. I patted down her pockets, searching for a key. Unfortunately, I found more than I was looking for. The woman had an entire set of keys which didn’t help me at all. One would probably get me out of the sewers, but I had no way of knowing if one of the others would unlock Nazim’s chains.

Not willing to risk the keys jingling, I left them where they were for now as I stood back up. I would come back for them afterwards. Looking down at her corpse, I thought I should feel something — after all, I had just taken a life for the second time. It only took me a moment to process my feelings and realise I did feel something — utter disgust. I restrained my urge to spit on her corpse and quickly crept back down the hallway.

Two ideas had occurred to me, and though the first was a stretch, the second could work as backup.

One down, one to go, I thought.