Chapter 30

Luke cupped his hands to his face in frustration as a bar, ninety-nine percent of the way full, appeared underneath the words, with a silhouette of a hand beside it. In blinking red letters underneath the hand was another message, reading,

Estimated time until fully charged: 8 hours, 19 minutes, and 11 seconds

Or insert mana here.

You gotta be kidding me. I barely have any mana right now.

Frowning in annoyance, he put his hand where it wanted him to and concentrated. Immediately he felt a strong suction from the device, which rapidly began to drain his mana. It pulled it effortlessly out of his body and made Luke pull his hand away in surprise before he lost all of it.

Freaky. Looking at it consideringly, he put his hand back on the post and, with an exertion of his will, tightened the grasp he had on his mana. He forcibly lowered the hungry draw to a trickle, then stopped it entirely.

Interesting. I wonder if— Luke eased his mental grip and pulled up his status, keeping a careful eye on his mana levels as did and calibrating the hold he had on his mana until the draw of the machine matched his natural regen so that the level of his own mana stayed constant.

Let's see how much it takes.

Five minutes later, the clock skipped forward one second, and Luke withdrew his hand, shaking his head in disappointment as he did so.

I don't have enough juice to make a real difference. Might as well let it do its thing and keep my mana for myself. Although— He opened his status.

Status | Skills | Quests | Inventory

Name: Lukas King

Tier: Mortal

Mana: 112/3,888.5

Rate: 15% per hour

Strength: 98 > 100

Agility: 92 > 95

Constitution: 100 > 101

Arcana: 74 > 77

Stat Points: 104

Bloodline: Locked. Conditions not met. (1/10,000)

Charges: 7/10

If I spend all my stat points and make my Constitution and Arcana equal so that I get the highest amount of mana possible, then I should more than double my current amount. Let's see.

He pulled out a piece of paper from his inventory and scribbled out the math, mentally cursing his lack of calculator.

Just under ten thousand total mana. He glanced at the altar, sending the paper back to storage. Maybe that'll chip away five to ten minutes. If that. I'd rather wait and keep my stat points handy. Spending them on those two isn't a waste, but the whole point of saving them at all is to deal with something unexpected.

He stepped back from the altar and watched curiously as it automatically navigated back to its main screen the moment he did.

I wonder why she's scattering all of us so far from here, he thought, moving back to the walkway with the treasures. Right, probably so we don't get robbed.

None of the Elders seem to be thieves or particularly vicious, but if one of them decided that they wanted what I earned, realistically, what could I do about it? Any one of them could leave my body in a ditch for some monster to eat, and I'd be shit out of luck.

As he stepped over Len's body, his eyes locked onto a gold spear, rotating diagonally above a pedestal.

Gold sword, gold spear … Hmm. It kind of fits the theme, doesn't it? A greedy smile bloomed on his face. Nothing wrong with trying, and there's more than enough treasure here for everyone to get something even if I take a handful of it. Besides, it's not like they'll ever know it's me. Not when I'll have a new face pretty soon.

Walking up to its pedestal, he tried to grab it, only for his hand to bounce off an invisible barrier a foot away from the spear. Not surprising. It's like the barriers that stopped us from going into each other's rooms. I doubt this thing is going to stick its hand out and let me in, though.

Stepping back for a moment, he inspected it for any obvious weaknesses. Pulling a rock out of his inventory, he chucked it at the spear from a few feet away, aiming to knock it free. It collided with the barrier in midair and bounced into the lava.

That would have been awesome if it worked. What else can I do? He crossed his arms and tapped his feet in thought.

He continued trying to liberate whatever treasure that caught his eye for the next few hours, trying everything from putting the whole pedestal into his inventory and putting the barrier in his inventory to splashing lava at it with creative use of a shield and his inventory. He even tried climbing the invisible forcefield in case it opened up somewhere along the way.

It didn't, and he gave up eventually when one attempt saw him almost fall to a fiery death. Ultimately, he decided that whatever magic the hero had cast was not something he could get around. Not even with his advantages.

Defeated, he went back to the map and, after playing around with it even more, settled in for a wait. He took an hour to redraw the map of the island he was planning to go to, along with its neighbors, in exceptional detail. Once he was finished, he sat on the ground with his back pressed against the altar, positioning himself in such a way that he could see both Len lying on the ground, still asleep, and the pit of sand he had fallen into earlier. On the lookout in the unlikely event that someone else made their way down.

Speaking of, did Len really figure out the techniques after he fought the turtle? Once he ran into his room and didn't come out, I just figured he died. He must have, though, if he's here. Whatever—I'll ask him if I'm still here when he wakes up.

A few hours later, with just thirty minutes left on the timer, a mechanized whir rang through the chamber, and a blue-robed figure fell out of the ceiling and landed in the sand pit with a dull thump.

Heart racing, Luke quietly drew his sword and hid behind the altar, resisting the urge to curse when he saw exactly who had fallen through.

Yjarn surveyed the room, his eyes darting between the artifacts floating in the air and the lava pouring down the walls before settling onto Len's body.

Come on. Just a little bit longer and I would have been home free. I could finish the quest and finally be off this island.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his breathing, looking desperately for somewhere to hide and failing to find a place. The large statue was the only thing big enough to hide him, and even then, Yjarn would without a doubt come and check behind it.

Should I just push him into the lava? No. He shook his head. Yjarn was still an Inner Disciple, someone who had been cultivating for years. That, combined with the empress's ban on further killing, was enough for him to discard violence as an option.

If she can pull me through the ground I'm standing on and drop me in here as soon as I figured out her techniques, she can do the same and drop me into lava. I don't care how high my Constitution is, I doubt I'll survive that.

Yjarn started to make his way forward, eyeing each treasure as he passed it, pausing momentarily at the empty spots where Luke and Len had picked theirs, before reaching Len. Then, kneeling down in front him, he checked his pulse before he started riffling through his pockets, kicking aside the empty potion and pill vials.

Not finding anything of value, he nodded to the hero's statue and walked back down the walkway, eventually stopping in front of a pedestal with a pair of simple black leather boots. Picking one up with each hand, he inspected the footwear impassively. Tucking them between his arms, he walked to the next artifact, a jewel-encrusted golden crown. Just as with Luke, when his hands were a foot away from it, they hit an invisible barrier. Looking panicked, he stared at the shoes with pain in his eyes, realizing that he may have wasted a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to pick out a treasure from a hero's vault on shoes.

They still belonged to a Hero, my guy. It's not like they're going to be useless, Luke thought, still hiding and debating if he should try talking to the Yjarn or not.

Running back to where he found the treasure, the Inner Disciple tried to put them back.

Why didn't I think of that? It didn't work, but it's still clever.

Yjarn cursed softly under his breath, turning on his heel and stepping back onto the walkway.

Luke glanced at the counter that was displaying the time.

Fifteen minutes left. Fuck.

Yjarn started walking toward him and, not seeing any way to hide, he stepped out from behind the altar.

"Hey." He waved with his sword, gripping a shield firmly with his other hand.

"I thought you left," Yjarn replied after a moment. His own hand found its way to the sword at his hip. "After doing what you did to him."

"I didn't do anything to him besides helping. He's just sleeping off a poison from the turtle."

"Hmm. Why do you have your sword out? We're friends, aren't we?"

"No."

"Very well. Why are you still here?"

"I wouldn't be if I could leave."

Yjarn started walking forward, drawing his own sword as he did. He let the pair of shoes he had picked out fall to the ground.

"What are you doing with that?" Luke asked, looking at the steel sword with apprehension.

"You have yours, I have mine. It's only fair," he said casually, continuing walking forward. "You took whatever he chose, right?"

Yes.

"No … He gave it to me."

"And you're going to give it to me. Both what he took and what you did."

For fuck's sake. "No." Luke lifted his sword.

"You can't fight me. The distance between us is greater than you can handle."

"And you can't kill me without breaking the hero's rules. Which is what you'll have to do to get your hands on my things."

"You really shouldn't test me like that. I don't have to kill you. Not when I can cut off your arms and your legs and take what I want from your limbless torso. And after I do that, you can also tell me how exactly you have so much mana for someone who hadn't even started cultivating until two months ago."

What an asshole. I knew we weren't friends. Luke glanced at his blade. The orange-red light that permeated the room shone off its silver surface ominously. He's not entirely wrong, though. I don't like my odds of winning a fight with someone at his level.

"Why don't you give me those shoes, and I'll forget you said that. The room will let us leave soon, and we can go our separate ways once it does."

He cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"There's a teleporter behind the statue. It's gathering its power, and once it finishes, we can use it to go wherever we want on the archipelago."

"Will it still work if you don't have any arms and legs?"

This motherfucker. Luke took a deep breath and lifted his sword, choosing not to respond as his thoughts ran wild in his head.

It's pointless talking to him. He thinks since we're in the tomb, and because he's stronger, he can do whatever he wants, and there's nothing I can do to convince him otherwise. Even if I do give him the egg, I can't give him the mask. I could try convincing him that I traded Len the egg for a potion so he could live, but … should I even bother?

On the very slim chance that it works and he doesn't attack me for shits and giggles after, am I supposed to just bend over for every asshat that thinks he can bully me? If I wanted to do that, I never would have said yes to the Seed. If Arke can't make me do what she wants, why should he be different?

An amazed expression came over Yjarn's face. "You have some guts. I'm impressed, but guts won't stop me." He grinned. "I wonder how Arya will feel when she walks through here and sees you all cut up, having bled to death?"

"I wonder how she'll feel after I take a dump on your face."

"What?"

Luke looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm not great at trash talk." But I do have shit and piss in my inventory, and you're going to be covered in it and more holes and bruises than you can possibly imagine.

Hopefully.