Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 6

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Kickstarting Ash

The day before Rift 8.

Late-March, 14 AR.

United Kingdom, London, the abandoned cookie factory.

An arrow left the bow, speeding towards Ash who was rushing forward, only for the arrow to miss Ash as he ducked underneath the projectile. Lance grinned as he grabbed the second arrow and nocked it, glancing past the bow at the charging man. Ash’s momentum was good, as was his form. Ash currently was far from the intimidating presence that Thomas had been, but Lance figured Ash was now skilled enough to pose a considerable threat to most non-Rifters. The shield and axe combination would only add to that. The arrow left the bow at a frightening pace, with Ash using the steel shield to deflect the arrow just in time.

Lance then moved to the next spot on the rusted steel catwalk overlooking the obstacle course Lance had made for Ash. He watched Ash rush past and over wooden crates, jump from one floor marking onto the next. Every so often, Lance would surprise Ash by having placed a boxing bag that was placed around a corner, or suddenly come crashing down from the ceiling as Lance cut a nearby rope that was keeping it in place.

Lance had painted the bags with a human face on them or that of a monster. He had tasked Ash to ignore the human-looking ones, or even hide from them. Regarding those that were painted to resemble monsters, Ash was to always go for the kill. Lance had filled some boxing bags with sand, while he filled others with rocks, just to throw Ash off balance when encountering them.

To make things worse for Ash, he would have to deal with the occasional archer that Lance would portray. Lance had first started by using blunted and cloth-covered arrow tips, having wetted the tips in paint beforehand. In doing so, they could quickly see if Ash blocked something successfully, or if it just bounced off his body. After several days, Lance had switched the tips out for actual arrows, increasing the threat level of Ash’s training. A part of him felt bad at doing so, but Lance knew that he would need Ash’s help in the coming days. Beyond that, Ash never displayed signs of pain, only discomfort at being rendered immobile.

Knocking another arrow, Lance waited for his moment, releasing the arrow just as Ash was climbing a wooden obstacle. The arrow nearly hit Ash in the torso, with the pale man narrowly sliding sideways, causing the arrow to pierce his right arm and imbed itself in the wood underneath. Without so much as losing a beat, Ash snapped the arrow shaft in half by slamming his shield into it. Afterwards, he jumped off the crate and landed on a section where Lance had placed several boxing bags with monstrous faces.

Ash rushed left first, slamming into the bag with the shield before throwing his axe at another bag. Ash then grabbed the bag he had slammed into, holding it upright to block Lance’s next arrow that was hurling itself towards Ash. Moments later, Ash was on the move again, having retrieved his axe that he had thrown earlier. Now with both axe and shield in hand, he rushed forwards, rounding the corner and stumble upon a steel barrel that had a printed-out picture of Connor taped on the side of it.

Lance wanted to see what Ash would do. By introducing that picture suddenly in their training regime, Lance would quickly learn whether Ash would or wouldn’t attack it due to it being a human. To Lance’s surprise, he noticed Ash speeding up. Moments later, Ash jumped towards a brick wall before pushing himself off with both his legs as he crashed into the barrel with all the kinetic force Ash could produce in a surprise attack. Lance watched as a shield wielding Ash crashed into the barrel, sending it to the side with enough force to create a loud noise from the impact. Ash then began to punch against it, again and again, intent on further subduing it.

“And stop!” Lance shouted, watching Ash stop his assault and return to a standing position, waiting for Lance’s next command. For a few seconds, Lance simply watched Ash, peering down from his elevated position. Ash impressed Lance, seeing as he had not hesitated and instantly knew what needed to be done. Although it had been a display of violence, a part of him wondered if it might not be too much. ‘Ash mirrors what I share and teach,’ Lance thought, remembering the many nights he had spent with Ash going over the pictures, memorising every little detail about them and how it made Lance feel. Rather than lose himself in a complicated ethical dilemma of justice versus vengeance, Lance focused on the here and now.

“You did great,” Lance said, placing the bow and arrows down on the ground before Lance jumped off the catwalk, landing on the floor in a crouched position a few paces away from Ash. Lance slowly rose to his feet as he flashed Ash a smile. “Now, let’s see how you’ll do against an opponent that will fight back.”

* * * * *

The smartphone lay on its back, no longer propped upright because of the crate behind it being smashed apart. A mixture of red and white blood smeared the surface of the cracked screen, although one could still vaguely make out the song title on display; Mötley Crüe - Kickstart my Heart.

Lance’s pale companion got to his feet slowly, a trail of fresh white blood dripping from his broken nose. Ash wiped the blood on a sleeve of the R.A.M. uniform he was wearing before he got back into a fighting pose. Ash’s protective boxing and hockey gear showed a lot of wear and tear due to combat. Both Ash and Lance had been going at it for the better part of five hours already, only stopping occasionally to put on a new song, heal or repair when the situation required it.

“I told you I would get even,” Lance said, showing Ash a satisfied and immature grin. A grin that was stained red because of Lance’s own bloody nose. Despite Lance being stronger and faster than Ash, it did not mean that Lance was exempt from taking any damage. The first two hours Lance had dominated their sparring match, with him having to hold back constantly in order not to damage Ash, or risk spending a lot of time waiting for Ash to get repaired. Still, the longer things went on, the more fatigued and wounded Lance got. Ash did not tire, nor seemed to get distracted by pain or discomfort.

“Unarmed only again,” Lance said, circling Ash and teasing him with the occasional fast jab. It was still surprising to see just how skilled Ash had gotten in such a small-time window. Ash was adequate in using a shield and one-handed weapon but was horrible with ranged weaponry or when grappling. But boxing was something that Ash picked up fast. The more Lance noticed these developments, the more he became convinced that some parts of Thomas persisted within Ash, beyond just the physical similarities.

Lance twisted his torso to the side, dodging a punch that was thrown at his face just in time. He barely had time to react when Ash’s second and third punch landed, this time hitting Lance’s defensive guard as Lance backed off. He rubbed his bloody nose and tasted blood, remembering the uppercut Ash had given him a few minutes ago. After having spent most of his day training Ash, his stamina was no longer regenerating as quickly as it should do. Ash, on the other hand, could simply keep going for a long while, only suffering damage if he constantly went beyond his limits.

‘I need this. I need this style of training,’ Lance thought, switching his stance as he rushed at Ash, throwing several sped-up jabs at the pale man with a lot of power behind them. At that point, his jabs might as well had been several haymaker punches. Lance’s bloody grin widened as he noticed Ash using his arms to block the punches, blocking line of sight for a moment. During that moment, Lance rushed closer, going low and suddenly bolting upwards. By the time Ash noticed Lance, the Rifter had already gotten into a position next to Ash. Lance grabbed hold of a pale neck and arm, forcing Ash’s balance on one side. A split second later, Lance’s leg came down like a thunderous axe as he swept Ash’s leg underneath him. The momentum rammed the pale combatant headfirst into the ground. Had it not been for the layers of protective gear Ash was wearing, Lance would have cracked Ash’s skull and spine on the hard concrete floor.

“The o-soto-gari needs work,” Lance told himself as he backed off, remembering the correct name of the leg sweep he had just performed. The dazed Ash gradually registered what had just happened to him as Ash got up again. While Thomas had spent several years learning how to box from his old man, Lance had done some judo in his childhood. He wasn’t all that skilled in it, but Lance remembered the basics. Both Daniel and Dieter had encouraged Lance to pick it up again during his training in the GRRO facilities. There, Lance had learned several fighting arts and styles, all adapted to fight monsters that were either beast or humanoid in appearance. While most Rifters preferred a spear, sword, or other tools for fighting up close, one couldn’t underestimate the amount of kinetic force a person performing a large leg sweep could generate. This was without factoring in how much a strong Rifter could further increase that lethality.

“Shield and sword,” Lance ordered, watching Ash head towards a crate to pick up a broken steel shield and a thick metal pipe that had cloth wrapping at the tip. Lance grabbed his smartphone and pressed the repeat button, ignoring the bloodstains on the screen. He still found it silly to be sparring with this type of music, but it had been a song from Thomas’s collection. A part of Lance was enjoying Thomas’s choice of music more and more. ‘You sure know how to pick them, Thomas,’ Lance thought, suppressing a chuckle as he nodded to Ash, letting him know they would continue their training. Lance held his right hand to the side as he activated his inventory.

[You have retrieved an item from the inventory.]

The hand axe appeared in his hand as Lance rushed towards Ash, taking a few swings at him with the back end of it, both to prevent any major damage to Ash and to stop the axe from chipping when steel would hit steel. With both using weaponry, Lance had to hold back more of his skill, knowing full well that Ash had more trouble with this type of fighting. Still, he only held back so much, preferring to keep Ash in a constant state of survival.

Lance swung a few times, seeing Ash block it with his shield before slamming his own weapon towards Lance, barely missing him as Lance backed off. They exchanged several more times, with each fighter going in for low and high strikes, feinting left, or suddenly rushing in from the right. Ash had hit Lance on the arms and on the sides a few times. But Lance had truly clobbered Ash during the few minutes that they had been attacking one another. Just as the song was nearing the four-minute mark, Lance went for the finish.

Lance came in with a wide swing, letting the axe zero in on Ash’s right arm. The pale fighter instantly brought his own weapon up to block it, as he had done several times before.

[You have stored an item in the inventory.]

The axe suddenly disappeared, with Ash’s weapon meeting no resistance as his swing went wide. Lance simply kept his momentum going as his axe swing turned into a balled fist that hammered into the side of Ash’s ribcage with enough force to crack bones and send Ash to the floor.

[You have retrieved an item from the inventory.]

The axe then returned five seconds later, with Lance pinning the dazed Ash onto his back, keeping a foot on his chest to keep him in place. Lance then brought the axe down, stopping just short of his neck before the timer went off and the song stopped playing. Retrieving an item wasn’t instantaneous. Skilled Rifters could get faster at it, but retrieving an item took more time than just storing it. What Lance had done came with some risks, seeing as it left him unarmed, but at the same time could surprise an enemy.

“You did well, Ash,” Lance said as he used his left hand to help the wounded man upward and point at the nearby crate, instructing him to store the weapons again. When Ash did just that, Lance stored his weapon in his inventory. Afterwards, he recovered his blood-stained smartphone, storing it in his inventory as well. He retrieved the smartphone again afterwards, this time with no blood on it. It was one of the many benefits of using an inventory system like this. A Rifter could only store what the inventory system classified as an item. You couldn’t store anything that was clinging to an item like blood, dirt, or grease. This made it harder for a Rifter to apply oil or poison to a weapon, but it made it that much easier to clean something or dry wet clothes.

Checking the time, Lance sat down against a nearby crate and caught his breath. His body wanted to scream out from all the bruises and fatigue he had built up in the last few hours, but it felt right. Each cut reminded him of the dangers of a Rift, each bruise felt like a reassuring mark that he had prepared as much as he could, and his aching muscles reminded him of what was to come tomorrow; his next Rift.

‘Mend wounds’

[You have used Mend wounds lvl 1 at the cost of 10 Magicka]

[Current Magicka 31/135]

[Mend wounds has reached lvl 2]

As the blue light enveloped Lance, he could feel his nose itch and get warmer, as the wave of healing energy desperately tried to fix his battered nose and other injuries Lance had sustained. It took him a few minutes to realise that he had a status update, seeing the upgraded version of the ‘mend wounds’. Lance opened the menu, checking to see the difference now that it had reached a higher level.

[Magicka cost] [+5]

[Additional Health restored] [+10]

[Additional Stamina restored] [+4]

‘An increase of 10 Health and 4 Stamina restored at the cost of 5 Magicka. Not bad,’ Lance thought, double-checking it just to be sure. The increase in his skill level was a surprise, but one that he had been expecting for some while. As Rifters used skills inside or outside a Rift, they would grow more comfortable with it, as well as tailor their bodies to it. When a certain threshold was reached, a skill could increase in level and effects. Seeing as Lance had been using this skill for a long time, not to mention up the frequency of use the last few days because of constant damage, it was only a matter of time before he improved the skill.

The increase in Magicka cost could be a downside, but he’d regain a lot of Health and restore far more Stamina. In theory, this would mean that Lance would have to cast mend wounds less often to heal up, resulting in him not constantly blinding himself because of the healing glow.

When Ash was done, he took a seat next to Lance, leaning against the crate and mimicking the way Lance was sitting. The pale man had removed his protective hockey and boxing gear, revealing the mess of bruises and cuts that covered his body. Feeling guilty, Lance moved his elbow against Ash as he activated two skills at once.

‘Mend wounds’ ‘Repair item’

[You have used Mend wounds lvl 2 at the cost of 15 Magicka]

[Current Magicka 16/135]

[You have used Repair item lvl1. Reducing Stamina and Magicka regeneration by 25% until completion]

A flash of blue light blinded Lance as he felt the restorative energy flow through him, mending bruises and minor cuts. It felt stronger than before as it flowed through him. Although he had not counted on the increase in skill, it came at a perfect time, seeing as tomorrow they would head towards another Rift. “Ready for your first Rift?” Lance asked Ash, looking at his pale companion as Lance watched him carefully nod his head once. He wasn’t sure whether it was Ash simply nodding because he thought it was required of him, or if Ash formed an opinion on his own. For now, it did not matter to Lance. He simply chose to believe it was the latter and take it as a sign that the omens for tomorrow were at least favourable.

“Let’s try not to die tomorrow,” Lance said finally to Ash and himself as the two men began to prepare mentally for the following day.

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2022 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2022