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Book 3 Ch. 27 Talking with the Enemy
🕑 Added 2024-11-12 02:37:46 +0000 UTC27.
Santi and Tank left right before dawn. Heading down and out of the town and toward the edge where Duncan and his two followers were supposed to be waiting. The predawn darkness shielding little from Santi’s advanced stats. Tank was yawning, his pack strapped tight to his back and his maul on his hip.
They had stayed up late, planning out contingencies and talking their way through what Duncan and the others could do to them in the dungeon. Santi couldn’t tell Tank the details of what a labyrinth dungeon was, but we was able to lead him to conclusions that were close enough to what they needed to know.
There was something liberating in talking with Duncan. Not having that constricting feeling creep up his throat as he struggled to bring forth his information and memories. Not that talking to Duncan was enjoyable or something that Santi was looking forward to, just that it was liberating to have someone know what he knew.
“Where are they supposed to meet us?” Tank asked as they left the outer edge of the town and started down the country road that connected it to the rest of the world.
“We’re right here,” Duncan said. All three of them materialized. The two brawlers next to him were equipped as close quarters fighters like Bianca and Chloe. Santi added a group cloaking skill to the list of Duncan’s abilities.
Duncan carried nothing aside from the long knife on his waist. His two followers were different. Both were big and broad men and were heavily laden with gear. Bulging packs and weapons hanging from every available place.
“Found ‘em,” Tank deadpanned.
“Let’s get moving. After you,” Santi waved to the road ahead of them and Duncan just smiled before turning and beginning to jog. The two men with him were silent guardians, neither of them saying a word as they all set out.
Time went on as the distance stretched out, the sun rising and creeping higher and higher over the horizon. The day’s heat began to creep over the land and Santi felt a tingle of sweat break out across his forehead. At noon Duncan signaled a stop at a rest stop. He scouted it quickly, sliding through the stop before coming back with the all clear.
Tank had begun to struggle near the end of the run as they were moving faster than any bicycle could reach. Santi had to think that by the time he reached peak Acolyte his jog would be close to a cruising car speed. Tank sipped from his water bottle as he leaned against the wall of the rest stop, hiding in the scant shade available.
“How far did you think we traveled?” Tank asked.
“About two and a half minute miles. Six hours, but we had to backtrack a few times. Probably eighty-five miles are so,” Santi gave it his best estimation.
“Fucking hell man, that’s insane. Not car speeds insane, but on foot and just jogging?”
“Fairly straight route and nothing has jumped us yet,” Santi said.
“Think we’re going to get jumped?” Tank asked. The two bruisers turned to look at him, interest plain on their faces.
“For sure. There’s plenty of strong monsters around here and none of them would mind eating us for a snack. There’s Mercy’s people roaming the hills and we have gear and levels they’d like. Then there’s the animals out there too. Fought a bear with Chloe and Hana that was strong as hell. It had a partner that was higher level and that one walked away and is out here somewhere.”
“How high of a level was it,” one of the bruisers asked.
“Mid fifties. The one we killed was in the low fifties.” Santi glance and [Identified] the man.
Warrior Adept lvl. 38
On his way to becoming a [Warrior] or a [Knight] or some other basic martial class. Nothing fancy, but basic soldiers could kill you just as easily as some prodigy. Santi had to remind himself of that sometimes, as his power kept creeping up further and further from everyone else. He wasn’t invincible and it wasn’t just the other regressors that were a threat to him.
“Dunc could have taken it,” one of the men said, his surety in the outcome absolute.
“Duncan could have taken it. With enough time and effort,” Duncan said as he came around the corner, sitting close to his men but still having a distance between them.
“My class and skill set is set up to be a man killer. I eliminate threats soundlessly and disappear without a trace. Standing toe to toe with someone is not only against my nature, but more importantly, against my build,” Duncan informed the men while pulling out a small ration packet.
“That’s what you two are for,” Santi said, smiling at them grimly. While strong enough out here, in a level fifty dungeon, they’d be ghastly outleveled.
“You two know a lot about this shit. How is that?” The second of the two bruisers had a quiet voice and his eyes had a sharper intellect than Santi had given them credit for.
“What are your names?” Santi asked, trying to buy time. He didn’t think they really needed the two, in all honesty, Duncan and Santi could probably do the dungeon themselves. Better to be on the safe side and have the extra bags of meat walking around.
“Trevor,” the inquisitive one said, poking himself in the chest with a hairy knuckle.
“And that’s Bo. My little cousin.” His distrustful eyes never left Santi and Duncan. He was a follower, but wasn’t a blindly loyal follower. Tank kept eating quietly, sipping from the water bottle every now and then.
“I’ve told you before Trevor. Most of this knowledge is simple deduction if one applies the right type of logic to it.”
“Video game logic?” Trevor spat contemptuously.
“Or role playing game logic, if one wishes to be pedantic.” Santi let Duncan handle the questions from his subordinate. While Trevor seemed to be distrustful, Bo looked horrified that his older cousin was calling out Duncan. There was a shine of hero worship in his eyes every time he looked at the assassin.
“If it talks like a duck, walks like a duck, and looks like a duck, it’s probably a duck,” Santi threw in.
“If you are able to accept that our world has now be set up like a video game, or role playing game, then the logic is to build yourself, stats, skill, spells, around a build. You fit into a mold so to speak. I travel a lot, so I picked a class and abilities that make it safe for me to move undetected and to kill quickly. Santiago picked a mage class because he’s a tiny asshole and couldn’t fight hand to hand immediately.”
“Close enough,” Santi let Duncan have it. The first time he had chosen mage was so he didn’t have to fight close quarters.
“Now, on the other hand, you two bruisers are part of a group. A group who have vulnerable people in it. So you are designing your build around being strong and durable. You can take punishment and dish it out in equal measure. Santiago’s friend, Dexter, is a healing mage. He believes he’s best suited for keeping us alive.”
“How the fuck does he know my name’s Dexter?” Tank whispered into Santi’s ear. That was an excellent question that Santi didn’t want to think about. Either there was a spy in their camp, a strong possibility, or Duncan’s abilities were far greater than even he had assumed.
“You’re the one who helped us figure out our builds,” Trevor murmured, eyes glass with calculations.
“Correct. The best way you could help me, and by proxy your friends and family, was by building yourselves up like this.” Duncan spoke as if manipulating people’s entire future were the most simple of things. Santi knew he could be an asshole, but he had never tried to steer someone’s build and future like this.
“You’re a peach,” Santi said, shooting a dagger smile at Duncan.
“Santiago, you are standing inside of a glass house. You’re a tyrant disguising himself as a benevolent dictator. You’re even wearing a crown,” Duncan waved his only remaining hand at him.
“True, but I admit it to everyone. They know what they’re signing up for when they join us. I don’t manipulate people into changing their futures without giving them at least the courtesy of telling them why,” Santi countered. Even to him it seemed hollow. It was better than what Duncan was doing. Right? The inner thought was like a loose tooth that he couldn’t stop thinking about.
He had come back on accident, but they had planned on it. They had banked on their methods succeeding and Duncan had said it was to prevent bloodshed. That their goals were similar. He didn’t believe him, but as time wore on and he was the last one left, how much could he trust his memories? Something was wrong, he knew that. Time was missing. And now he had someone who had lived through it all only feet away from him and they were doing the same things. Just in different ways.
Was it really so different?
He shrugged the treacherous thoughts off with memories of what the Apostates had done. The friends they had killed, the death they had wrought. They were different. How one accomplished their goals mattered. Even in the midst of the chaos of the apocalypse, what and how they did what they did mattered.
The meal became remarkably silent and then they were on their feet and moving again. Duncan often took off, scouting the way ahead of them, leading them around strong beasts and monsters. This wasn’t a leveling hunt, but a expedited dungeon run. If they had to run an extra half hour to avoid a fight, they did. There were no backups if one died out here and the dungeon run was the most important thing on Duncan’s mind.
Santi was still thinking of the war kit he had in his bags. The coat, amulet, and dagger. All three of them made for fighting and surviving against sapients. He didn’t think Duncan would betray him inside of the dungeon or even after they got out. Santi just didn’t trust the man to not go armed with his best weapons. He had already been caught a few times without them and that wasn’t going to happen again.
It took another six and a half hours to make it to the dungeon and Santi was surprised to find themselves getting close to Chico. They veered East though and went further into the mountains. There along the denuded burned forests was the entrance to the dungeon.
Comments
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Seems like Santi keeps second guessing himself when it comes the Apostates... interesting to see where those thoughts could take the story
