Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 672: Chocolate

How interesting, logs to be deciphered. But I should also take into consideration that this might be a plant, left behind to confuse us.

Or the Last Elf just doesnʼt care.

That second option is also very likely, because so far, all the attempts on our lives were half-assed. At this point, I think I would prefer my next opponent to be a demon. At least in that case, there wouldn’t be any mysteries to solve, none of the backstabbing stuff.

Holding yet another halo from the Last Elf’s gilded monsters, I give it a thought and place it on top of my head. The vyssari woman next to me gives me a look that still says she suspects I might be communicating with the guy. She isn’t wrong, to be honest, but it’s not like I’m doing it to sell them off or anything.

“What?” I ask her.

“I donʼt trust you,” she says simply.

There’s something about her that feels off. Compared to everyone else, she would seem to be the weakest based on what she’s shown thus far. Her personality also seems to lack confidence and edge. I strongly suspect she’s hiding something, and that parts of her personality are just a mask she’s put on for our benefit.

“You do you,” I shrug. I don’t say as much, but if I had wanted to fight them, I’ve had plenty of opportunities. “Can you tell me about vyssari?” I ask.

She looks up from twisting the ring on her finger. It’s a simple thing made of some kind of white wood.

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“Good for you.”

“Please?” I try.

“I can’t tell if this is some kind of mask you’ve put on or if you’re really just that weird. ”

“You people always say that about me. That I’m weird, half-demon, twisted, or some other stuff. You know what’s funny about that? So far, I’ve found myself to be the most normal member of all the groups I’ve joined. You should’ve seen my tutorial group, the people from our first Beyond expedition, my guild, or any damned Champion, Absolute, or Ruler I’ve ever met or heard about.”

“You talk like a typical concentration skill user.”

“I’m not even using it for my emotions.”

And with that, she gives me an ugly looking smile. “I wasn’t talking about that. You don’t have to answer, but from what I’ve seen in your behavior, you started with a concentration skill. People’s starting skills are always at least partially based on either the personality or the talents of their owners, at least from what I’ve learned. Many people have told me that the system always prefers to strengthen and evolve what already exists. Starting with a concentration skill means you were probably like that even before the tutorial. A weirdo, constantly suppressing and hiding their emotions, or you were just the sort of person who was highly capable of controlling them. Or, in your case, someone who doesn’t seem to take things seriously.”

“Is that something you’ve really confirmed?”

“It comes from experience.”

“I see. So, the vyssari?”

She looks at me for three seconds before shaking her head. “I didn’t really know anything about it either, not before I appeared in that forest back on the first floor, but apparently, my race is an experiment set in motion by one of the Rulers. We haven’t even figured out their subclass yet.”

That self deprecating smile is back. “My lord, my creator, my god. Long dead and almost forgotten. Some asshole obsessed with dragons who couldn’t get a hold of any of their genetic material, then used the blood of a powerful wyrm to play god by creating us in a lab.”

She laughs. “On our planet, we had two main religions. Some believed in a single, all-seeing, all-powerful god. Others believed in a trio of goddesses that created us and the universe. And then we show up here and find out we were just an experiment, and the one who did it had the nerve to die already. Funny, isn’t it?”

“If you say it like that, it is. So your legs are part of that wyrm bloodline? Also, wyrms, dragons?”

“Give me that thing I saw you eating in secret with that absurd look of pleasure on your face.”

“It’s very expensive.”

“I am telling you everything and tolerating your questions when I suspect I might be about to die in a day or two, maybe even by your hands. I deserve that much.”

I give her a longer look, then reach into my bag and take out one of my chocolate bars. It’s been broken up, melted, and reformed a few times, but it’s still the same brown sugary matter so many of my people are addicted to.

After I unpack it for her, I offer it, and she takes a few pieces, throwing them into her mouth. I take a few too, and side by side, we eat it.

“Not bad,” she says and closes her eyes for a moment. “Dragons are entities that existed in the distant past, and possibly still do, from what I’ve heard. I met an A-rank vyssari in his last year of the tutorial, and he shared some rumors he’d heard about our race. Apparently, some vyssari from the purer bloodlines have a chance to gain powerful traits from that little bit of genetic material held over from the powerful wyrm the Ruler used to make us, who knows how many generations ago.”

“And wyrms are related to dragons, but weaker?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“From everything I’ve heard. I don’t know how many dragons or wyrms are left, but since there’s so little information about them, they must be very well hidden, very powerful, or very dead.”

I offer her another piece of chocolate and take two of the bigger ones for myself. Unfortunately, she notices and quickly grabs a few more.

“Are you disappointed after finding out how your race came to exist?” I ask.

She seems to give it a longer thought and absentmindedly reaches for another piece, which she throws into her mouth in a hurry.

“Before the tutorial, I was viewed as a kind of religious leader. Do you have people like that on your planet?” she asks.

“I guess. The best example that comes to mind is the Pope, head of a religion consisting of over a billion people. But I think his role is mostly ceremonial now. He has some influence, obviously, he does engage in diplomacy and stuff. Still, he’s a figurehead. He says a lot, but I doubt he really rules over much of anything. Maybe it’s even by intent that he doesn’t.”

She chuckles with a half-bitter smile, licking a bit of chocolate off her thumb.

“I see. Then maybe I was something like that, though on a much smaller scale. I spoke, guided, wore beautiful robes, and people listened to the things I had to say, and that was the role that had been passed down to me. It all felt important at the time. But now, knowing we were made in a lab, for fun, by someone who came from normal people like us, it just feels... hollow.”

“Does it really matter?” I take one more piece and offer her the rest, which she accepts. “I mean, your origin was the same, before the tutorial and now. It’s just that now you know the truth.”

“Same origin, huh.”

She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. She just breaks off another piece of chocolate, eats it slowly, then finally speaks.

“You’re technically right. I didn’t change. I was like this before the tutorial. These legs, this blood, all of it. Just didn’t know what it was.”

She points the chocolate at me a little.

”I think youʼre overlooking something, though. Most people aren’t so logical. Knowledge does matter. Information changes people, how they see the world, how they choose to act. In my faith, we believe that our emotions were given to us for a reason.” She pauses, shakes her head, and laughs softly before looking at me, ”Emotions are not flaws to overcome, but theyʼre part of what makes us. Logic has its place, but it’s not the whole picture. I think, deep down, you know that too.”

”You think so?”

”Obviously, otherwise you would just be like every other concentration skill user jerk who keeps their skills active all the time.”

”I guess.” I nod.

”Now leave me alone. I want to prepare for the coming fights.”

I leave without any further words.

An hour later, Iʼm working on a lock when a disruptive wave washes over the entire room, blocking all my senses for a few seconds, and a big crack appears in the massive window. The suction starts pulling the air from inside the room until Io and that gray man get there first and patch it up with some items lying around and some mana.

The lights in the room flicker, then fade, until most of the glow comes from the planet below, spilling a dim reddish hue across the room.

As I regain my senses, my suspicions are confirmed. With a quick use of Wraith Dance, I reach the body resting against the wall.

The vyssari woman, whose name I didnʼt even know, is resting against it with her mouth agape and blood flowing from the corners of her lips. Both of her eyes are gone, exploded into gore and pieces. Something has been stuffed in her mouth, and I quickly recognize the color and material. Itʼs the plastic package of the chocolate she and I shared.

The movement of my mana isnʼt even the slightest bit affected by the sudden spike of emotion. My hand doesnʼt shake, and I remain calm as I reach out towards the body. When I touch her to check over her body, it’s still warm, and I note that her brain has been reduced to mush, as it had been squeezed in a big fist.

The gray man starts panicking audibly and shouting at Io. He points his finger at Tacita for killing Barion, and now he blames the crazed demon for killing the vyssari, and he points his finger at me for being greedy and organizing it all for better rewards.

Barely two days have passed, and two out of the seven people who came here are dead.

I tune out most of the conversation and let Io handle it. I take the chocolate I opened earlier, break off a portion for myself, and leave the rest in the wrapper. I place the closed package in her hand, curl her fingers around it, and cover her with a cloth from a nearby box.

After a bit of working on the locks, Io stops by me and asks, ”How does it look?”

”I had to start all over again. That pulse, whatever it was, reset and changed the defenses. You remember that thing Barion mentioned the room with the cage had, right? There’s one here as well.”

Io groans audibly, and two of his hands cover his face as he wipes it down. ”So we’re locked in here? The door we came through locked again? Am I correct to assume they’ve all been reset?”

”Yup. I also think there might be bigger groups of gilded monsters behind them now.”

”Understood, thank you. Please keep trying. We’ll try to come up with another two or three ways to get out. Moving through the void of space is an option, but I would like to avoid it, given that it’s the most risky, and the replica will likely be prepared.”

”Okay,” I confirm.

He moves away, just a few steps. This time, we all stay clustered together. Everyone, trying to keep the others in their line of sight.

It might just be because I have what’s probably the lowest constitution here, if not the lowest after Tacita, but I start feeling lightheaded and my head hurts as well. Either the replicas are trying to poison us, or a bit of air is still leaking out. Even though Iʼm sure at our levels we donʼt need that much air, so I would probably suspect some poison or something.

Not that elegant or satisfying, but a simple way to deal with intruders. Just like a bunch of ants being sprayed down with Raid.

I allow my sealed ignition heart to beat slightly faster, and more thermal energy floods my body, activating combustion and sending a bit of healing through my body. In combination with the healing marks Lily left on me, I should be fine.

Just a glance at Tacita tells me she’s doing fine too, and noticing me looking her way, she draws something in the air with her finger.

(￣▽￣)/♫•¨•.¸¸♪

This time, I donʼt have so much as a clue what she means by that, and I lift my eyebrow to show her my confusion.

She smiles and tilts her head while moving the hair covering her ear. It reveals a wired white earphone resting there. I follow the cable, which leads into one of her pockets, where she likely has a smartphone or some other kind of music player.

Itʼs safe to say she isnʼt all that worried.