Zachary Scott
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Chapter 118 - First Steps
🕑 Added 2025-07-29 15:45:44 +0000 UTCI stretched sore muscles, grimacing as something pinched in my lower back. With a quick, nearly reflexive surge of mana, I cleansed away the
I stretched sore muscles, grimacing as something pinched in my lower back. With a quick, nearly reflexive surge of mana, I cleansed away the discomfort. I devoted a portion of my focus to meditating to recover the slight loss of mana with the same automatic nature.
It was odd how quickly I was taking to all of this. At times, I still wondered if some of my habits and proficiencies from my time as a god had lingered. Then again, my rise to power in the first place could have been due in part to being wired for this kind of thing. But those were worries for another time.
I’d hiked through most of the night with Tamrin and Yolo as one of several scout teams we’d sent out in every direction to get an idea of the battlefield.
It was only day two in the tourney and we already had one outpost captured, but I knew we needed to keep moving quickly. We weren’t just underdogs. The people running this thing actively wanted to make sure we lost. I was sure of it.
The only shot we had was to put everything we could into strengthening our position. That started last night. We left behind the crafting team—a mixture of slaves and aspirants who volunteered to focus on gathering materials and organizing crafting projects. The rest of us were just now returning from our scouting trips.
I knew everyone desperately needed sleep by now. Unless they had snuck a quick nap, there hadn’t been time for rest yet. Not since well before the drop yesterday. Unfortunately, that meant I was one of the few clear-headed people. I was used to sleeping only an hour a night, and the fatigue of sleeplessness only started for me after a full day. Still, I made sure to yawn for show occasionally. There was no reason to make myself any more suspicious than necessary, after all.
“So godsdamned tired,” Tamrin said, stifling a huge yawn. He had scraggly blonde hair that was plastered to his pale forehead with sweat. He wore a beard, but it could hardly be called a beard. It was more like a collection of wispy hairs so blonde they were almost invisible. During our night of exploration, I’d learned he was in this tournament in hopes of settling a debt that had been crushing his family for generations. This tourney was his whole family’s last chance, and a loss for Tamrin would mean financial ruin and even death for most of his relatives.
It was a common enough story, I was learning. Very few aspirants entered the tourney unless their lives or their family’s lives depended on it. Now I could see why.
When Yolo had asked me why I joined, I told him a version of the truth. I wanted to save the people I cared about, or I’d die trying. And I didn’t just mean Zahra, Ramzi, Thorn, and Sylara. I knew something else was coming. Something terrible. I needed to take every opportunity I could to challenge myself and grow. This tourney was just the next step in that process.
“Oh finally. They’re here,” Tamrin sighed with relief. His gaze was on the front gate, which was being slowly raised. All of us waited in the outpost’s courtyard, standing either in patches of dirt or scraggly half-trampled grass. The whole place smelled like a workshop with hints of oil from the defeated constructs and sawdust from the work of the crafters.
Two slaves worked the winches to open the gates as Lyria, Naia, and a burly slave named Protus entered. Protus held a big ass hammer and wore a permanent scowl, but he seemed nice enough and had a fondness for soup, of all things. The man hadn’t stopped talking about what ingredients we’d need to make his favorite and asking the scouting teams to keep an eye out.
I grinned when I saw he had a huge collection of plants and weeds tucked in his pants. It looked like he’d found most of what he wanted on his own.
“About godsdamned time,” Hector groaned. “We’re falling asleep on our feet, you slow fucks.”
Naia had been part of a group who found our outpost and offered to join forces shortly after we captured it last night. Apparently, they followed our tracks.
With the addition of her group, our total number was just short of thirty now.
“If you nearly got killed, you’d be late, too,” Naia said. Her upturned eyes scanned us, as if counting and then checking to see if anyone was injured.
“Let’s get started,” I said, looking around the group.
“Good,” Tamrin said, yawning loudly once again and stretching. “Can’t wait to get through this and sleep.”
“Group up. Let’s go through the scouting reports one by one,” I said, gesturing for the teams to gather closer.
Most moved without hesitation, but I caught Hector exchanging a look with one of the newer arrivals. She was a stocky woman in the light gray uniform of an aspirant. I hadn’t caught her name yet. She muttered something that made Hector scowl deeper.
“Problem?” I asked.
“Just wondering who made you leader,” Hector said, his voice carrying an edge. “So far, only thing I’ve really seen you do to distinguish yourself is get someone killed.”
The courtyard went quiet.
“You mean Elora?” I kept my voice level. “Because if I recall, you’re the one who charged in without thinking and started that whole mess. If we’d had some time to think of a proper plan before—”
“You dragged her to those towers,” Hector spat. “Used her up and got her killed.”
“Brynn saved most of our asses,” Lyria cut in sharply. “Without him and Yolo patching people up, we’d have lost half our number. And like he said, you ran in there like an idiot and all we could do was try to clean up your mess.”
“What kind of healer are you, exactly?” Hector said, ignoring Lyria as he stared at me, eyes narrowed. “I could feel you fucking around with my insides, eating up my mana.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said flatly. “We can stand here bickering about leadership while the nobles finish carving up the center, or we can get to work. They won’t be distracted forever. Once they realize what we’re building here, everything changes.”
Hector held my eyes for a long moment, then grunted. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
“Noted,” I said, turning my focus to the rest of the group. “We’re all tired, so let’s get through this. Northeast team, you’re up.”
Before anyone could speak, the air above us shimmered into existence. It didn’t fly in like the viewing portals normally did. This one just appeared, as if someone had reached through the sky and pried it open It was easily two hundred feet across.
“MONGREL ARMY!” The announcer’s voice boomed. “THE FIRST DAY’S GLORIES FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE!”
The portal showed a sweeping view of the tournament grounds like a bird’s eye view swooping over canopies of trees, mountains, and the occasional shape of forts and castles. It was a brief view, and without a way to know what direction the view came from, I couldn’t gather much useful except that this place was massive. Bigger than I’d imagined.
After the bird’s eye view, the portal flicked through several snapshot moments, all too quick to do more than give the faintest impression.
A woman with blood soaking her fist after punching through a slave’s chest.
A man in noble’s black dodging one of those lightning spears, catching it, and throwing it back at the dark-skinned woman and her deflecting it with some kind of bright flash of magic.
Two slaves running for their lives, drenched in sweat, and then Kalcus Rathborne catching them with one of his flesh blade arms and rending them in half, blood splattering his face.
It kept going for several seconds. Each scene a bloody highlight or moment showing someone being put into stasis and dragged upward.
After the dizzying flicker of scenes, the view finally slowed, showing a view of our own group. I saw myself running shortly after the initial drop, face thankfully dirty with blood and mud.
The view seemed to linger on me in particular, showing what looked like a carefully edited version of events that emphasized every root I tripped on, every time I winched in pain or my eyes widened in apparent panic. When they showed the construct battle, they cut out our tactics and coordination, showing only me dragging Elora toward the archer towers.
I felt my stomach drop as I saw the way the edited version portrayed things. It looked like she’d been trying to resist and I forced her to come. It looked like I’d dragged her straight to her death.
I could feel the stillness of our group all around. Most would realize what they were doing with that replay. But I doubted anybody had actually been watching what really happened. This portal view was probably going to look real to most of group.
Someone wanted me to look bad. It was painfully obvious, but with Hector’s comments just before the portal appeared and nothing but my word to say otherwise, I was certain seeds of doubt were already spreading among the group.
I clenched a fist at my side. Weren’t the odds already stacked high enough against us? Did they really need to add this deceptive bullshit on top of everything else, too?
The view in the portal thankfully shifted from our group to Vitus Ra-Set and his Azure Guard, moving in perfect formation against three-headed ogres twice the height of men. Vitus’s axe cleaved through them like butter, each strike accompanied by cheers from unseen crowds. They were punching their way into a castle made of stone, feet slipping on monster blood as they spiraled up some kind of tower filled with ogres.
In the end, they took on a huge armored ogre twice as big as the others. Vitus shouted orders as his allies surrounded it, assaulting it with steel and magic. Despite the thing’s size and power, it never looked like they were in danger before it was finally cut down to its knees and beheaded by Vitus, who lifted it by a single greasy ponytail sticking out from its helm and roared victoriously.
The scene shifted to Kalcus at one of the central keeps. A pair of aspirants knelt before him, apparently pledging loyalty. He smiled, placed hands on their shoulders. Then his arms transformed into grotesque blades of flesh and bone, piercing both through the chest. The crowd roared approval as the aspirants’ stasis wards activated, yanking them skyward.
Then came Cassian, alone against the Gemini sisters. His shadow-blade danced between their whips, and though outnumbered, he drove them back step by step until they fled.
Next was a view of six aspirants moving through a narrow valley with weapons drawn and eyes wary. The silence broke when a crossbow bolt appeared in the forehead of a man, dropping him dead before the stasis ward could activate.
More bolts flew, and the scene seemed to linger on the violence, almost reveling in the fact that only two aspirants were saved by stasis wards while the others died very bloody, very real deaths.
“Bullshit,” Tamrin spat. “They didn’t show you organizing us. Didn’t show the slaves fighting together—”
“Of course they didn’t,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re not supposed to win this thing. The people in charge will do everything they can to turn the crowds against us.” Sure, technically the goal seemed to be to turn the crowds and my own allies against me, but I thought it might be wiser not to dwell on that. I looked around, meeting eyes. “We have to remember we’re on our own out here. So be careful what you trust if it’s coming from the outside.”
There were nods, some grudging, some firm.
“Convenient,” Hector said. “When the outside seemed to be trying to show us what a prick you are.”
“And yet those of us on the inside can see you’re a prick with our own eyes,” I said. “I wonder which counts for more.”
Hector’s face reddened with anger, but I noticed a few grinning.
“Alright,” I said. “Looks like the show is over, so let’s get through the scouting reports.”
Kesharan stepped forward first. He was a wiry man who fought with some kind of magic that involved metallic wires he could control. He was an aspirant, so I’d seen him fight a few times back in the guild and knew he was impressive when he had all his abilities unlocked. Here, I wasn’t sure how strong he was with only one active. “Northeast team found a quarries within a few miles. There are iron deposits, but it isn’t going to be easy work to extract it. We’d need tools and probably someone with a little know-how.”
“I’m guessing the crafting station here won’t let us work iron,” I said.
A young girl was standing in our group as a representative of the crafting group. She met my eyes, nodding. “The station we have here lets us work wood. Anything we do with metal is manual, not magic. We’re going to need better stations to do the things you all want.”
After some careful questioning, I learned crafting stations could actually be used without a crafting corestone, just like a sword could be used without the skill to wield it. The crafting corestones unlocked deeper potential in the stations, but someone with enough knowledge could still use crafting stations to make basic items with far more effectiveness than by hand.
“Old Torgen here says he knows his way around a metalworking station,” Naia said. “Assuming we find one.”
A tomte beside her scratched his ass, nodding. He had red hair, an elaborately braided beard and eyebrows so bushy and long he’d been able to braid those, too. It looked like he’d claimed a pointless tophat as one of his two items when we reached the outpost, which didn’t speak highly of his intelligence.
A woman with intricate tattoos spoke next. Nixara, I remembered—she could use each tattoo to perform certain spells, like projecting an ethereal scythe to attack her foes from a mark on her inner arm. “East team found three forts in the valley behind us. All wooden construction, but the furthest one has stone chimneys. Big ones.”
“Forge?” I asked. Even without a metalworking station, I assumed we could do more with the metal if we had the ability to melt it down.
“Could be,” Torgen said. “Could be a big ass fireplace, too.”
“The central castles are a bloodbath,” Tamrin said, speaking for the southwest team. “Saw smoke and portals all night. Bodies getting lifted out every few minutes.”
“Did you get a sense of whether the fighting was calming down at all?” I asked.
“Hard to say. We didn’t want to get close enough to get spotted. But there are three massive castles in the area. Might be the center of the battleground. Smaller keeps ring that, and then it seems like it’s mostly outposts on the outer perimeter.”
I nodded. “So the closer to the center of the battleground you go, the more rewards. But we could also try to capture as much of the outer ring as possible and make up for it in numbers.”
A tall Kiergard stepped forward from the next group. His white skin had a faint shimmer in the morning light—like frost on glass. Unlike the Kiergard I’d seen in positions of power, he wore slave’s clothes and kept his black eyes downcast. He was Iron Rank, though. Counting myself, that made only four total in our group above Wood Rank.
“We spotted two parties of nobles patrolling in concentric circles,” he reported, voice cultured but carefully neutral. “They’ll reach the outer forts sooner rather than later. Also found survivors. Three slaves, two aspirants hiding in caves to the north. They’re considering joining if someone can reach them before the patrols do. They… wouldn’t agree to come back with me.”
I noticed how others shifted away from him slightly, unconscious prejudice even among slaves.
“Good work,” I said. “They’ve got everything we’ve mapped so far posted by the crafting station. Make sure to mark the cave on it. Once everyone gets a little rest, we can send someone to get them.”
The kiergard nodded, then backed up.
“Your name?” I asked, curious despite myself. Every kiergard I’d seen so far had been in positions of authority and power. Most had been Silver Rank and serving as guards. And then there’d been that Gold Rank kiergard I’d seen in the infested ruins outside Riverwell. The one who had been working with the lich in some capacity.
In short, I hadn’t seen a single kiergard who seemed remotely trustworthy, and I knew their race was responsible for the enslavement of sekmeti like Ramzi and Zahra. Judging by the looks on Zahra and Ramzi’s faces as they watched the man give his report, his status as a slave didn’t absolve him of his people’s crimes, either.
“I’m called Erasmus. I prefer Ras, if it pleases you.”
“Ras. Got it,” I said with a nod.
Protus, who’d been part of the West team with Lyria and Naia was already grinning as he stepped forward to make his report. His big hands were filthy with dirt from what I assumed had been far more foraging for soup ingredients than scouting. “West seems unclaimed so far by participants. Plenty of monsters, though.”
“Monsters?” I asked.
He nodded. “Roaming the forests. Humanoids with red skin and long tails. Their skin is thick with fur and their eyes are yellow, but they carry weapons and armor I imagine we could salvage.”
“Interesting,” I said, almost to myself as my thoughts turned it all over. There were multiple paths to power within this tourney. There was locational power. Central castles were likely large, offered the best skill and equipment unlocks, and technically easy to defend, but also exposed to attack from all sides. The keeps were probably a middle-ground, with better rewards and structures, but slightly better geographical defense options.
And then there were outposts like ours. It was made of wood, but I thought we could do plenty to increase our defenses. More than we already had, and the narrow valley meant even a large group would have trouble trying to surround us. But we also only had one crafting station and limited access to materials. I wouldn’t be surprised if the central areas also had better crafting stations.
The humanoids Protus saw were a tempting twist. Instead of crafting the gear ourselves, we could hunt for it. But I doubted any of it would be magical, and how much help would that be if the nobles were unlocking nearly their full skill loadouts and more of their equipment from the outside already?
He emptied his pockets, showing a large collection of random roots and several ordinary-looking rocks. “As you can see, the grommets also found us. Several times. They insist these are ‘most satisfactory finds,’“ he said, holding up a rock. “Get offended when we try to refuse them.”
“Maybe they know something we don’t,” Zahra suggested with amusement.
“With grommets, it’s probably better to assume it’s really just a rock,” I said. I had my own collection of grommet “gifts.” The creatures kept popping up from hidden tunnels to present them to us while we were scouting. When I tried to gently suggest they should bring large pieces of wood straight to the outpost, they didn’t seem to fully understand. Instead, they kept promising to find better prizes for us.
The roots and rocks were making a man-sized pile against the inner wall of the outpost and nobody quite knew what to do with them.
“Alright,” I said, organizing everything mentally. “Priority is that furthest fort with the possible forge. If we’re lucky, there could even be a metalworking station to go with the forge. Once everyone is rested, we need to form up and attack it. Tonight, ideally. But we need to spare a few people for material gathering and leave behind others to keep working on strengthening our defenses here. And we’ll need someone fast to come get us if there’s an attack. We also need someone to go after those survivors hiding in the cave that Ras mentioned. I think we should hold off on going after the humanoids for now until we know how dangerous they are, and claiming another outpost would boost all of our strength, hopefully with another skill unlock. We’re also going to need to make sure we have enough food to feed everyone. It sounds like there’s plenty of wildlife out there, so we just need a couple people to catch it and bring it back, and maybe some—”
“I got the gathering handled,” Protus said with a grin. “Already scouted out some good spots with plenty to harvest.”
“Good,” I said. What followed was a brief and surprisingly efficient division of labor. Some slaves and aspirants had picked an active skill that made them better suited for certain tasks, like Ramzi’s movement speed song which would make him ideal for staying back at the outpost and coming to get us in the event of an attack. He was also perfectly suited to travel with any groups planning to cover a lot of ground for scouting.
We agreed Tamrin and Zahra’s snare abilities would be best for forward scouting to try to give an early warning about attack parties coming, so we paired them with Ramzi and asked them to range out in front of the outpost and make sure nobody was headed our way.
The rest came down to who was interested in helping build up our infrastructure and who wanted to join the assault on the outpost tonight. In total, it only took about five minutes of discussion before we were all dispersing toward the buildings we’d claimed as sleeping quarters. I noticed several people still giving Erasmus suspicious looks despite his valuable intelligence. He stood apart, seemingly waiting for something as the others hurried toward the buildings for sleep.
I waited until most had gone inside, then approached him.
“They’ll come around,” I said.
“Doubtful,” he said. Erasmus was nearly as tall as me with a strong but lean build. Like every Kiergard I’d seen, he had skin so milky white it was almost unsettling with black eyes and white teeth. There also didn’t seem to be a single hair on his body. No eyebrows and not even thin blonde bodyhairs. His face was chiseled with a strong jaw and elegant nose. “I am an abomination, and my exile is warranted.”
I frowned. “You’ll have to forgive me for saying so, but I don’t know much about your people. What do you mean?”
He eyed me, then nodded with what seemed to be resignation. “This is why you don’t avoid me, then. I understand. Kiergard are pairs. Every pair has a sun and a moon. I am a moon, and I failed to protect my sun. He died a decade ago. Fallen in combat during a screecher attack. Our eclipse was broken with his death, and my refusal to take another sun is why I was enslaved.”
I was curious but wanted to avoid asking offensive questions out of ignorance. “Your sun… is that like a mate?”
Ras actually smiled at that as if I’d just asked a question so wrong it was funny. “No. It’s like family. A brother. A sister. Kiergard are born either sun or moon. Our powers work either only in daylight or only by moonlight. We choose our partner when we come of age, and this forms our eclipse. To be of age without a partner is the greatest shame a kiergard can endure.”
“Why did you refuse to take another partner?” I asked softly.
Ras stared at nothing for a few moments before he spoke, features hard. “Because I failed him. My arrogance caused his death.”
As if the subject was closed, Ras gave a slight inclination of his head, and then walked to the far side of the outpost near the pile of rocks and roots the grommets had delivered. He sat down and seemed to be planning to sleep outside there.
“Better to leave it alone,” Lyria said.
I jumped slightly, not realizing she’d been waiting to speak with me.
“Even if you make friends with him, it’ll only make things awkward with Zahra and Ramzi. Sekmeti and kiergard are blood enemies. There’s no mending all the things that have happened between their people.”
“Well, for now he’s on our side,” I said. “I’d rather understand him at least.”
“What?” I asked, noting the way she was looking at me.
“I just want you to be careful.” Lyria looked up, eyes flicking around as if searching for something.
I recognized the gesture by now. We’d all grown used to glancing around to make sure no viewing portals were present before saying things we’d rather not have others overhear. Even the grommet portal wasn’t always around, and I wondered if it was busy watching the grommets who had snuck into the tourney search for increasingly ordinary roots and rocks. To grommets, it seemed like that was riveting entertainment.
“I’m being careful,” I said.
She inched closer, eyes lit with worry. “You should be letting someone else take over leadership. Letting someone else make friends with the outcasts. I think you’ve got enough on your plate without turning yourself into the face of the ‘mongrel army,’ don’t you?”
“Nobody else was stepping forward with good ideas. If we screw this up, we die, Lyria. I’m sure of it.”
She pressed her lips together, annoyed, but seeming to acknowledge I had a point. “Pick someone as a stand-in, then. You can relay your orders and thoughts and they can act them out.”
I gave the idea a moment of thought and then shook my head. “I think that may actually look more conspicuous. It would only be a matter of time before one of the portals saw through it. And then people would wonder why I was secretly leading. At least this way I’m just the guy with a helmet giving orders. Sure, it draws attention, but so what? The danger isn’t being noticed, exactly. The danger is people figuring out I’ve got… advantages I shouldn’t.”
“Or the face of a god,” Lyria said. “A god someone like Ithariel might not want to rise back to power. Or any of the other gods out there who could be lurking behind every corner.”
“I know,” I said. “But there aren’t many people alive who would recognize my face. And I have no plans to take this helmet off for them. They’ll see my bedroll eventually and figure out I have a strong item. That’s fine. And if I’m careful as we unlock more abilities, they won’t be certain I technically have three corestones. I’m sure a unique Soul corestone could manifest all kinds of abilities. Trust me, I’ve thought of this, too.”
“And what about your…” she paused again, eyes searching the sky once more. “Dark mana?”
I shrugged. “Okay, yeah. That one is a slightly trickier problem, but not insurmountable.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I normally feed it into Mana Shield when I just want to practice getting used to exposure before bed. The effects on Mana Shield are predictable and non destructive. It makes the shields turn a bit purple and makes them more durable. With enough dark mana, they start to grow spikes and get more malleable, so I can shape them with my mind a bit.”
“And you don’t have Mana Shield right now,” she said, understanding.
“Right. I’d need to damage myself to even be able to use Devour Mana. Technically, I could get myself sore or cause minor aches and pains without getting too destructive, but the amount of mana needed to fix something like that would be laughable. It would hardly be worth the effort and would barely feed my bedroll.”
“So you’d be giving away how your ability works to anyone watching,” Lyria guessed aloud. “But also looking weird as hell cutting yourself up before bed every night or jumping from walls to break your legs.”
“Yeah. If it comes to that, then it comes to that. But I’d rather wait and see if we can unlock another active ability before I do it. I know I can last a few more nights without feeding my bedroll dark mana. So there’s no need to go down that path. For now.”
“Alright. Fine. Just… be careful. When Ithariel showed up back in Thrask, I felt…”
“Yeah,” I said, finishing her thought. “I know. But I doubt he’s actually that interested in things like tourneys. Our best defense is his indifference, and I’d guess nothing so far has even drawn his attention. And I bet the other prestiged gods are too busy worrying about getting their strength back to come hunting for me.”
“What if Ithariel is actively looking for the other prestiged gods? Looking for people who stand out despite their rank? People who show unusual qualities and powers that can’t be explained through normal means?”
“Then I’ll just have to hope our unexpected victory and survival here looks… kind of ordinary.”
Lyria’s expression said plenty. She doubted it as much as I did. But it wasn’t like we had another choice for the moment.
“If I have to die, I’d rather die because we kicked ass than because we were too cautious and got killed trying to be conservative.”
Lyria let out a heavy breath. “At least we can agree on that much.”
“Good,” I said. “But you need to stop worrying about me and get some sleep. I can see the bags under your eyes.”
“Yeah, some of us do actually need a solid eight hours each night. Lucky bastard.”
“Can’t say I feel too lucky at the moment. So if this is luck, I’d be happy to have less of it.”
She smiled slightly. “See you tonight for the attack on the outpost.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “And let’s hope that outpost has some kind of crafting station that lets us work metal. We could use armor and weapons for those who don’t have any.”
“Let’s start by hoping we can even manage to take it.”
Once Lyria was gone, I headed to the top of the remaining archer tower Elora hadn’t burned. I was planning to sneakily use my cursed bedroll there and hope I could go at least a few days before the portals noticed my unusual sleeping situation.
I gave the three accomplishments I’d earned last night one look before settling in for a night of bedbug bites.
[Common Accomplishment] Enter a tournament and survive the first ten seconds. [Reward - Common Tournament Token] “What a thrill! I’m just going to say it, though. I don’t know if you really gave this whole tournament thing enough thought. Sure, you are probably going to say you didn’t know they’d decide your protections were almost certainly going to fail from the start, but still…
“You did always have a bit of a tendency to leap first like you had no plan and come out looking like you knew exactly how things were going to work out. Is this one of those times? Do you know something you’re not letting on, Mr. Brynn?”
[Rare Accomplishment] Survive a duel with a noble contestant. [Reward - Rare Tournament Token] “That was impressive, but it looked so painful. Are you okay? I’m going to have to ask that you don’t use that strategy again, Mr. Brynn. I’m also going to advise you to avoid those nobles for as long as you can. I think you and your little army’s best shot is just… staying out of the way, right? Maybe they’ll forget you’re out there if you hide well enough!
[Rare Accomplishment] Claim an outpost in a tournament. [Reward - Rare Tournament Token] “Can I admit something? I know I should mostly just be worried that you’re going to die a horrible death in there, but I’m SO excited. I can’t wait to see what you’ll all come up with if you get more crafting stations. I think you should build some cosmetic improvements, personally. Those places you’re all using to sleep are filthy. How about some carpets? Rugs? Maybe window treatments?
I crawled into my bedroll once I was done reading through everything. I was more exhausted than I'd been in a long time. But all I could do was keep pushing forward. Keep doing what I could to get stronger.
And part of me thought there was a chance that I might just blow past everybody in this tourney before long, because they had no idea who I was and what I was capable of. All I needed was a few days to get my footing, and I knew I'd become a very big problem for them.
Comments
Zachary Scott
I wound up getting sick on Tuesday and was hoping to power through it, but I've been kind of in a mental fog. I had some good moments today and wrote when I could, so I think I've got a first draft for the next chapter and was hoping to be feeling normal tomorrow. I'll get it posted once I trust my brain enough to re-read it and make sure it's not stupid haha
Jackboeface
Is this Thursdays chapter
clagann
On a side note that one guy whos weirdly passionate about soup is so funny to me
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Ooh, it looks like Hector is getting grumpy that someone else is leading, and knows what they are doing. Things don't look horrible, if the army can keep getting more outposts and places allowing more skill and equipment unlocks then their ability to survive will greatly increase. I wonder which "old friend" it is, could it be one of the other prestiged gods, or someone from this era?
Mr.Turtle
The only person outside of Seraphel's friends I can think that would count as an 'old friend' would have to be Circa, but I dont think the timeline really fits with where she was just last chapter. Thanks for the chapter!
clagann
The stakes of this tourney are quite high… and while i know hell make it through i cant help but wonder how hes gonna make it without some more substantial help from the outside
