《Lament of the Slave》Chapter 65: Resolve
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My three previous losses were most likely to blame for my bitterness, frustration, and desperate view of the situation. Fatigue and blood loss weren’t helping either. It was so bad that even my bestial instincts gave up the effort to urge me to beat this young mossbear I was facing.
It wasn’t about fighting anymore, it was about suffering through this hellish training that I was condemned to the bitter end. The end, I could only hope all this had, because the idea of having to endure this for eternity was unbearable.
Still, when I faced the beast, I tried to push these feelings away and do my best. Only my intention differed from reality. My reactions weren’t as quick as I needed, skills worked with stiffness I’ve never felt from them before, and I often found myself not focusing on the fight but lost in thought.
Honestly, it was surprising that I lasted as long as I did before the beast pinned me to the ground. I hit the forest floor so hard I cracked my rib. Still, that wasn’t the reason for the anguished cry I let out. It was the stick that pierced my side. Neither seeing it in the domain nor my nimbleness helped me avoid it. The beast hit me too fast and too hard for me to do that.
The trampling I suffered after that was just something I had to endure before Esu stopped this pathetic beatdown. It was hardly surprising that the way young mossbear dragged me by the leg clenched in its jaws to the King of the Woods, felt like a walk of shame I’ve earned.
What's worse, as the moss started to cover me again, I panicked a little. This time for fear of the stick growing into my body.
“Deckard,” I growled in a hurry, only to realize he couldn’t understand me, so I used the ring. “Deckard, please get that thing out of me.”
Despite the urgency of the situation and my insistence, he looked at me calmly, at my panic-stricken face, at the bloody wound from which the damn thing was sticking out, but his hands remained in his pockets.
“Please,” I begged, my voice shaking.
To my utter dismay, he shook his head. “If you want to be stronger, do it yourself.”
“But...” I wanted to object, yet he stopped me. “Whether you fight in the labyrinth, a dungeon, a wilderness, or a battlefield, the same thing can happen to you.”
He glanced at my wound again. “No, it’s a damn sure thing like this will happen to you again, and there may not be anyone there to help you. Do it yourself.”
I didn’t hold back this time, showering him with insults. Only I wasn’t crazy enough to say them through the link. So all he heard was a bunch of growls and whining. Well, he wasn’t that stupid either. He didn’t have to understand exactly what I was saying to know what I meant. The fact that he only responded with an amused smirk was even more infuriating.
“Bloody hell, Korra pull yourself together,” I cursed at myself, realizing I was just wasting time while the moss slowly covered me before it starts to heal my body.
I looked at my trembling, bloody hands. “A dagger has pierced you, even a spear, and now you’re afraid to pull the stick out of your guts?” I asked myself, trying to convince myself that my distress was unnecessary and give myself courage at the same time. “Come on, it’s easy. Just grab the damn stick and pull it out.”
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Easy to say. A lot of movies made it look like that. In reality, my hands were shaking so much that I had trouble grasping the bloody stick tight enough to keep it from slipping out of my grip. Even worse, as soon as I started pulling it out, my plan to do it quickly was in shambles. It was incredibly hard not to stop when I was causing myself excruciating pain. Only the spreading moss forced me to continue.
So it was no wonder I let out a hearty scream, thus expressing my pain and triumph, as I threw the damn stick into the darkness of the woods far out of my sight. By boosting my regeneration for a bit, I stopped the bleeding. The rest I left to Esu.
Just then, I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why weren’t you this decisive when you were fighting?” Deckard asked me out of the blue.
My confusion at his question must have been so evident that I didn’t even have to ask him what he meant.
“That last fight was terrible,” he said simply, waiting for me to explain.
Yeah, I should have known he meant that. “Well, I...I was thinking.”
“During the fight?” he asked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“After all you’ve told me, you are surprised?” I dared to reply, and even though it may have sounded like I blamed him, I didn’t. Deckard gave me his perspective earlier. The confusion was all in my head, though. So it was all on me.
I was just thinking.
Thinking about what happened to me, what was done to me, by whom, I couldn’t just forget. Not when my body was a constant reminder. Deckard didn’t even want me to. What I didn’t know was what to make of Dungreen and Fae. Revenge was a strong word, a terrible word, yet it sounded sweet to my ears. I wanted it, to get back at the bastard, to let him taste his own medicine. I longed to rip the flying bitch’s wings off and force her to return me to my family back on Earth.
I wasn’t stupid, though. Hate hasn’t blinded me yet, at least that’s what I wanted to believe, and I was aware that I might never get my revenge. That said, Deckard’s words were eye-opening. Because until I get strong enough to face my nightmares, I’ll only torment myself.
So...
“What would you do?” I asked the strongest man I’d ever known. “Because I can’t just put what happened to me behind me.”
“Ah,” he breathed out in understanding and thought about it before answering. “Kid, I understand there are some things you can’t just forget and admit my previous words were a bit...rash, but meant well. If I were you, I’d focus on something other than revenge.”
“Like?” I asked.
“Like what you told me. To become strong enough to not have to worry,” he reminded me of my own words. “That sounds like an excellent goal for me to take on as my own.”
I paused. “That’s what I’ve been doing until now.”
“No!” He said sharply, shaking his head. “You wanted to get stronger so you could get revenge. Make it so you don't have to be afraid, not just of them, but of anything.”
“Not to be afraid...” I muttered, thinking about it.
“Not to be afraid, to worry, to dread, whatever works for you, girl,” he added.
So I don’t have to worry about anything, huh? Surely there wasn’t just Dungreen and one Fae to worry about on Eleaden. It seemed to me that more and more people wanted to get me. There were mind mages, mercenaries, slavers, and who knows who else. Even seekers haven’t earned much of my trust, and I had no idea what to think of the Empire. I couldn’t leave the beasts out either. Without a doubt, Fae or Esu and mossbears were not the only ones out there.
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However, Deckard wasn’t telling me to get stronger than all of them. That seemed impossible. Only so I wouldn’t have to be worried. That’s how I interpreted it, and it was something I could stand up for. But the question was what it meant, what level of power I should aim to achieve.
“Hmm...” I snorted, not knowing the answer, and maybe that was what Deckard had in mind. After all, even he couldn’t know on what level, I wouldn’t have to worry.
“Okay, Marcus might be able to tell, but I can’t. All that ear movements and changing expressions are pretty confusing. What’s going on in your head, girl?” He asked, sounding a little concerned.
Well, I’ve been pondering some severe issues, such as life choices and my resolve.
“I’m struggling to figure out what level of strength I should aim for,” I admitted.
“Ah, the strength of when you won’t have to worry is too abstract, isn’t it?” he understood where the problem lay immediately. “Then try setting smaller goals.”
“Like what? Defeat a horned rabbit without a problem?” I asked, purposely not mentioning the mossbear. The beast was too strong for me, too distant a target.
He laughed. “You had trouble beating horned rabbits? Maybe I should think twice about you as my student.”
He really thought about it? It surprised me, in a good way. “It was my first fight, the first beast I faced. It didn’t go the way I imagined, though. In fact, when I woke up this morning, I imagined that whole today would go quite differently.”
“You went to Fallens Cry for the first time today?” He asked me in wonder.
I assumed he knew, I guess I was wrong. Anyway, I simply nodded, my ears mimicking the motion.
“I take my words back, girl,” he said, laughing in astonishment. “You had what, one or two lessons with Razso? And you went right into the labyrinth. That takes some balls.”
Well, I didn’t have balls, but I kept that snide remark to myself, especially when his astonished wonder was quite satisfying.
“Any other training?” he asked me suddenly.
This time I shook my head. “I was a slave for experimenting, locked in a cell most of the time.”
“And before? Before you were kidnapped?” He asked bluntly.
I paused, considering what to say to my potential teacher, opting for honesty. “Just a few lessons in how to defend myself. I was a florist.”
“And now you’re a seeker, quite a change,” he remarked.
I wiggled my ears in a shrug. “Yeah, since this morning, and it isn’t something I dreamed of being.”
“Hmm...” he snorted. “As of today, she says. Girl, you’re a bigger noob than I thought.”
That wasn’t so flattering, and my ears showed my dismay by drooping down.
“Traiana’s tits, girl. Don’t take everything so personally. What newbie seeker can say they faced a beast like Esu on their first day and lived to tell the tale. Hell, I bet most of those cocky bastards in Castiana have never met one. You even fight a beast at level two hundred and ninety-seven, while you haven’t even gone through the first evolution.”
I couldn’t help but smile, embarrassed by my body’s reaction. Rather than focus on that, I concentrated on the fact that Deckard just confirmed what my guts were telling me. The young mossbear was really close to three hundred. It meant my bestial instincts were reliable.
“Your evolution options will be interesting, that’s for sure,” he remarked, and I paused. “What are you talking about?”
Mr. Sandoval at the library said it depends on my class and what I accomplish. So far, I haven’t achieved anything.
“How can anyone be so clueless.” He sighed. “Esu’s Spawn. Mossbear’s Plaything. I don’t know... Princess of the Fucking Moss, use your imagination, girl.”
“Eh...a Moss Eater?” I tried, not knowing if he was serious or if he was just joking around trying to cheer me up. Was that sort of thing even enough to gain an evolution option?
“Yeah, that’s a good one. Keep eating it, and you’ll definitely have that option,” he assured me, amused.
Okay, he meant it. Of course, I took it with a grain of salt, but that Esu took me as his spawn may have affected my evolution. An exciting thought, as well as a terrifying one.
“Speaking of evolutions. As you’re just six levels away, it could be your goal,” he suggested, not forgetting my original question, from which we have strayed considerably. “Or you could focus on getting some specific evolution. For example, a swordswoman related, it’s not quite too late. You could focus on conquering the first floor of Fallens Cry, or the tenth.”
I thought reaching level 100 was always my goal, but it was more like something I would achieve on my way to my revenge when I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I had to agree with Deckard. I needed to set more achievable goals for myself. To focus more on the present and reach my objective one step at a time.
So, where to start? Conquering the first floor of the labyrinth was a good suggestion. Achieving evolution also seemed manageable. I could focus on training a specific skill, or...right now, training with the mossbear itself.
That sounded like a good start. Put everything behind me and focus on that.
I looked at the man standing a few feet away from me. “Thanks, Deckard.”
“Don’t mention it, kid,” he replied with a smile on his face.
Right, the fact that he called me girl or kid was a bit irritating, yet I was grateful for what he did for me. And it wasn’t just the advice he gave me or his attempts to teach me something hidden behind sarcastic remarks. I wasn’t stupid enough to not notice that he was trying to keep me distracted, to calm me down while I was broken and Esu treated me. Not what anyone would do.
Not in this world.
With a new resolve, I felt a weight lifted from my body, and it wasn’t just the moss that released me from its grip after it finished the healing. It was the tension I had been living in all my time here on Eleaden and no longer even perceived as something unusual that disappeared from my body. It was strange, it was liberating.
More relaxed than before, I sat down at the lettuce moss, the thing I was beginning to hate. I was just about to rip off a handful of it when the victorious shout of a man echoed through the clearing. I immediately jumped to my feet and ran over to Deckard to see what had happened.
There in the clearing next to a fallen adult mossbear stood a man. It was too far away for me to tell who it was, besides the fact that he was Shadowbreaker. The only one who survived and who won. But the fight took its toll on him. Even from my spot, I could see that he was completely messed up, missing an entire arm.
“Good fight,” Esu grunted, and I immediately took over the translation. To my surprise, Deckard made no remarks and spoke the words of the King of the Woods to the man with no hesitation.
“You were challenged. You won. You free,” growled Esu. His words took my breath away for a brief moment, making me realize that the man who had brought me here as a slave was now free. But as part of my new resolve, I decided not to be blinded by fear and hatred. So, after this hesitation, I translated the words.
As soon as the man learned the meaning of the growl he shouted triumphantly and fell to his knees, his head hanging down. He remained motionless even when the moss began to cover the mighty beast he had defeated.
“He died,” Deckard said, standing next to me, completely shocking me. First of all, I didn’t understand how he could tell at that distance. His domain must have had a very long range. Then I couldn’t believe that the man who was so fiercely declaring his victory just a few seconds ago had suddenly died.
“Was it some kind of curse? Did he bleed out?” I asked, kind of for my own sake, because I had another round still ahead of me with a younger version of what he was facing.
“Well, it was a sheer will that kept him alive. You could say he’s been dead for a while, just hadn’t given up,“ Deckard said with a hint of respect in his bull-like voice. “It was a good fight, a really good fight.”
Was it? I wish I could have seen it. I still had trouble understanding how one man could kill such a powerful beast. Or how could he live if he was already dead, for that matter.
“How?” How was it possible? I whined out loud, but Deckard got it even without the ring connection.
“Humans have a lot of weaknesses compared to monsters and beasts. I told you that. We make up for them with items, weapons, armor, or magical items. Potions are a great way to boost your stats, regeneration, mana recovery. The man used so many of them, I’m not sure a healer could have saved him.”
Oh, I got it. Too many potions, bad.
“The beast isn’t dead, by the way,” he added casually. But my mind went blank for a moment. Then I quickly refocused on the adult mossbear lying under the moss, which now glowed with a faint green light, like the one that covered me a moment ago.
If the beast wasn’t dead, I wondered why Esu acknowledged the man’s victory. Was it out of respect? A good fight? That couldn’t be it.
Deckard sighed and poked my cheek, bringing me out of the daze. “Even though he didn’t kill the beast, it was unable to fight any longer. But don’t be fooled. He didn’t spare it out of pity or for fear of Esu. He simply didn’t have the strength to do it.”
“Then why did Esu acknowledge his victory?” I asked.
He paused, only to shrug. “Beats me. Just ask.”
I looked at Esu, considering whether or not to dare to ask how to phrase my question because I wanted to know. “How did he earn his victory, great Esu?”
“He won, the adult lost. You have much to learn, cub,” Esu rumbled in amusement.
“I do,” I nodded, understanding the meaning of his words, humbled by them even. The man won in the sense of his spirit. He did not give up until the very end, unlike the adult mossbear. For a moment, I thought of my mom, of her determination and her struggle with the unseen foe, and my eyes immediately watered.
But Deckard’s disbelieving look quickly pushed my sorrow away. “What?”
“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he said, shaking his head and pointing to Esu. “The first time I said it as a joke, but you asked him anyway. Now you’ve done it again, almost no hesitation. I just keep wondering if you’re so fearless or if you just don’t realize who you’re asking to.”
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