Chapter 134: Prophesied Doom

Caddock heaved the arm-width rope over his shoulder, timing his tugs with those of other prisoners as they transported the star towards the cart designed to haul it out of the frozen wastes and down to Basalt.

Robbing the mostly empty frozen wastes of what little warmth they had in order to arm the Church of Granesh against the oncoming flood.

Caddock could see why it was necessary, he just wished it wasn’t.

He and the other prisoners had the technique down to an artform, but it was still gruelling work…for the others, who were largely below level fifteen. Not Caddock. The frozen winds and hard labor were more like a slightly chill morning and a bit of brisk exercise.

It was hardly a punishment for him at all. More like a brief vacation and some calisthenics.

Even with the Blessed Steel chains on his arms and legs, he wasn’t really bothered. He had long since detached himself from his situation and focused on the real problem. Caddock was mostly absentmindedly planning how to kill William Oh. He didn’t have time to goof around in a prison camp. The boy was gaining power at an exponential rate.

I do not leave missions unfinished.

The little proto-lord is too squirrely. His detection range is huge, his movement speed, reaction time and toughness are all on Lord levels, but his primary strength is the Ability that allows him to both hot-swap outlandishly boosted Relics with powerful soft-sets, and confiscate other’s Relics mid-fight.

Invisibly. From a distance.

The boy is practically engineered to be a nightmare to fight as a Climber.

I would need a way to gain power that didn’t rely on Relics. Or Relics that couldn’t be removed. Preferably both.

As for the power without the need for a Relic…a Lordship would do that. As far as he knew, Lords derived a portion of their power from their Vassals.

Paladins of the Church of Granesh swore an oath not to seek Lordship, so as to prevent the formation of a power structure external to the church’s hierarchy.

I would need at least a dozen Vassals, and a small town’s worth of civilians. People willing to accept me as their Lord. It would be hard to acquire that many people from the church legitimately, since they also have their oaths not to become vassals.

So where would I get that many people on short notice?

As he was musing, Caddock accidentally stepped on the heel of the prisoner in front of him.

“I-I’m sorry sir,” The prisoner stammered, picking up his pace and nearly slamming into the prisoner in front of him, who looked back with a snarl before he noticed Caddock, his expression going slack.

“S-sir,” the second prisoner nodded, before facing forward and minding his own business.

“No worries, gentlemen. It was my fault.” Caddock said, scanning his surroundings. No less than three hundred prisoners huddled inside their fur-lined coats, trembling with cold and effort as they struggled to move the outlandishly heavy stars.

Malnurished, exhausted, all but bereft of hope in the darkness of the frozen wastes.

All of them cast him furtive glances at Caddock when they thought he wasn’t watching, awestruck at the presence of a High Paladin in their midst. Could he represent their salvation, or was he just a curiosity?

Where indeed? Caddock thought, slipping his shoulder out from under the rope as he stepped outside the line of prisoners.

“How long do you have on your sentence, Albert?” Caddock asked the man in front of him as he watched the foreman notice Caddock and begin trotting towards him, hefting his enchanted whip with a murderous expression.

“Umm, fifteen years, sir?” Albert said, glancing behind him, his eyes widening as he saw what was happening.

“And what did you do?” Caddock asked.

“I wrote some questions in the margins of the bible!” Albert squealed, hunkering down, along with the rest of the prisoners as the foreman wound up a whipping, safely outside the range their chains would allow them to move.

Defiling a bible. That’s a pretty serious offense that I typically wouldn’t be able to forgive, but at least he’s not violent.

Finishing missions makes for strange bedfellows, I suppose. I’ll give him time off for good behavior working as my Vassal.

CRACK!

the whip’s cracker came to a dead halt as Caddock caught it in midair.

He yanked the whip and the foreman stumbled forward far enough that Caddock was able to lunge forward and catch the man’s wrist.

“Now son, you can give me the keys to my chains, or you can experience being beaten to death by your own arm. The choice is yours.”

“PRISONER ESCAPING!” the foreman shouted.

Well, you made your choice, Caddock thought, exerting a bit of force.

RIIIP.

***William Oh***

“What the Abyss is this!?” Will demanded as they arrived back at the Caravan, prying open Mason’s shirt to reveal the slowly healing cracks in his form. “Explain.”

“The dimensional Oyster I added to my shields allows me to absorb a tiny fraction of their energy when they break, creating a permanent extradimensional space between my outer layer of dead skin and the living tissue beneath it.” Mason replied, his cheeks turning pearlescent red.

“So your internal organs are getting further and further away from your skin,” Will mused.

“Yeah, it – STOP THAT!” Mason slapped Will’s hand away from his holes and glaring at him until Will took a step back.

“It’s only about a hair’s breadth of extra space every time the shield breaks, but it stacks up nicely, especially after Loth pioneered breaking it in rapid succession. I must’ve broken my shields a hundred thousand times while you two were gone.”

“Can you still feel anything?” Will asked, pinching Mason’s wrist.

“Yes, I can still feel things, stop it. Can I have my Relics back now or what?”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Sure,” Will said, dropping the Relics back into Mason’s hands.

“So if your organs have at least twenty feet of clearance above the ‘ground’ inside you, can we store some…”

Mason’s expression made Will’s question wither before he even finished it.

“…Nevermind.”

“You’re damn right nevermind,” Mason grumbled, tugging his shirt closed as he trundled off. “Store things inside you, see how you like it.”

“Arkesh, you old ponce, I haven’t seen you in days!” Reese’s voice came from across the camp, directing Will’s attention to where the emaciated sailor and the wizened old snake were talking. The conversation was fascinating.

“…Who are you again?” Arkesh asked, frowning at the emaciated sailor.

“It’s me, Reese, you know, the guy you ate who spent several years going through your digestive tract. Came out your ass like this, Blah!” Reese widened his eyes and splayed his fingers.

“Oh! Yeah, I remember you. Sorry about that, I was trying to kill you.

“And I wish you had!” Reese replied without an ounce of sarcasm.

“I haven’t seen you since this was the Fifth Floor. Where were you in the last Coil?” Arkesh asked.

“Trapped in a lightless, soundless coffin that randomly hurts you for at least a couple hours! You know those black coffins on the Sixth-floor that the techno-priests used to fuel their immortality. I got caught in one and turned into a healing battery for generations of assholes! How have you been?”

“…Reconsidering what It means to suffer, I suppose.” Arkesh replied. “Maybe I’m not as tormented as I thought I was…Relatively speaking. You’ll at least be glad to know the techno-priests are gone.”

“Is the whole floor wiped clean?” Reese asked.

“There’s nothing alive there anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Hell yeah, fuck those guys! Freakin’ technopriests, why I ought’a…” Reese shook his fists as Will approached.

“Excuse me,” Will said, approaching the two old men. Arkesh’s eyes widened minutely and he glanced between Will and Reese before his expression came back under control. Will noticed it, and stored that tidbit for further examination.

“You know what Reese is talking about when he says a Coil?” Will asked, pointing at Reese. “I can’t get any good details from him, because he’s completely Cracked.”