《Death Smith》Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 11 (The cost of victory)

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Death Smith - Book 2 - Chapter 11

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The cost of victory

Mere seconds before exiting the Rift.

Late-March, 14 AR.

United Kingdom, Ipswich.

As the violent mass of black energy lessened, it shrank in size and its violent behaviour. When that happened, four figures suddenly appeared. Motion sensitive cameras began recording and transmitting as GRRO personnel rushed towards the Rift itself. Protocol demanded they check for any wounded Rifters and take care of any immediate threats such as fire or falling debris. It took little training for a GRRO employee to realise the clearing of a Rift had gone successful when three Rifters were calmly walking towards them with smiles on their faces as a fourth conjured a bicycle out of thin air and started riding it.

“Still alive,” Lance said, an unusual instinct taking over again as he flashed Myles a warm smile and patted his shoulder.

“You’ve got guts, Lance, I’ll give you that. Bloody hell, that was a solid run,” Myles said just before the GRRO personnel reached them, inquiring how they all were doing and asking the team leader for a debriefing. Although a debriefing wasn’t required, it was the norm for a party to give rough sketches on how the Rift had gone. This to help better prepare any other Rifters going in after them, or to let the GRRO know if they had encountered something that needed investigation. Most of the time, it was about losses they might have incurred or severe injuries that might need treatment. In a successful run like this, the debriefing usually only took a few minutes.

Placing the sack down on the ground, Lance closed his eyes, lifting his chin upwards and basking in the heat of the afternoon sun. Although it wasn’t all that warm, Lance had just spent several days in a colder climate, with the last few hours atop a freezing mountainous plateau. He stood there for a few minutes, letting it sink in that he had just survived his first Rift without Thomas and had gotten stronger in the process. At that moment, Lance was blissfully unaware of the camera’s focusing on him, capturing the sight of this young Rifter that had done his duty to help the people of Ipswich remove this blight upon their town.

“Come on, you need to buy an old man a drink,” Noel said, nudging Lance in the side as he and Claudia made their way over towards the exit. They walked past the GRRO installations, including the private booths that held dressing rooms and showers. They briefly stopped to collect the personal things they had stored there. Lance knew that the Rifters, the white clover, preferred to stay in more public places before and after a Rift. Myles had explained that it helped them remember and engrave why they were doing what they were doing. Lance wanted to believe that, although he couldn’t help but shake that there also was a PR element behind it all. ‘Either way, these three did something great for the people of Ipswich,’ Lance thought, remembering the information the broker had provided. The white clovers had accepted the job of completely eradicating the Rift, having promised to clear it when the Rift would be stable enough for Rifters to enter it again.

Myles joined them moments later, handing each of them a cloak with the white clover symbol of it. Lance could feel Myles’ gaze on him as he accepted it. He did not have any problems with wearing it. Lance knew Myles wanted them to go out like that, united. It would send a powerful message, as well as strengthen their name.

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When they exited the GRRO security post and stepped out into the open, nearly a hundred people greeted them, with more of them rushing over to join them. There were reporters, townspeople, officials, and children of all ages there, loudly cheering the moment they stepped outside. Myles, Claudia, and Noel smiled, holding up their right hand as a sign of victory. They even impressed Lance in that moment with them decked out in imposing armour. Ice, dirt, and monster blood still adorned their equipment, adding to their mysterious nature as Rifters. Only three days had passed on Earth, yet much more had passed within the Rift, with the Rifters now starved for human interaction, decent food, and relaxation.

“People of Ipswich, within a few weeks, we will remove this Rift from your town. This we swear!” Myles said, letting his strong voice boom the last part so that the people in the back could hear it as well. Then, as one, the people exploded into an orchestra of excitement, hope and tears of old losses. It wasn’t long until they gave the Rifters a hero’s escort to the nearest pub.

* * * * *

“Three more pints for my comrades in arms!” Claudia said, standing on top of the bar, still fully kitted out in her armour as she wove around her weapons. She had been retelling their adventures when she had noticed that Myles, Lance, and Noel’s glasses were empty. Wanting to hear more of her incredible tales of the Rift, the patrons quickly began slamming on the bar to get the older bartender to hurry. One patron had even climbed over the bar to help speed things up, only to get kicked out again by the elderly bartender. “So, there I was! Holding what I can only describe as DaVinci’s wet dream in terms of homemade explosives...”

Lance smiled as he watched her go on, with people hanging onto her every word. Noel had found a cosy spot in the corner and had stuffed himself with many dishes the locals had brought him, afterwards sinking in a blissful state of nothingness. Myles was chatting with the locals, occasionally explaining what a Rift was or when they would come back to finish it. There were more than a few women next to him, no doubt drawn to the appeal of this charismatic leader that would liberate their town.

‘I am no better than Claudia and Myles,’ Lance thought as he accepted the next beer that was shoved in his hand by a local with shaky hands as if he was meeting a celebrity. Lance brought the glass to his lips as he took generous sips, doing his best to ignore the exposed Rift-shard in his chest. He was all too aware of the fact that this was his sixth beer since they had entered the pub, ignoring the shots Noel had forced them to take due to it ‘putting hair on your back’ like a proper man ought to have. ‘The increase in Endurance must be boosting our tolerance,’ Lance thought, remembering that a mere year ago he would have been hammered already.

Lance finished the drink and placed it on the table, explaining to the people that had surrounded him he would return in a moment. He knew what they wanted to see and hear, so, with a grin, Lance made his way past them, touching the occasional shoulder.

‘Mend wounds’ ‘Mend wounds’ ‘Mend wounds’ ‘Mend wounds’

One by one, random patrons began erupting in bright lights of blue, drawing the attention of the rest of the pub. Loud cheering followed immediately, with Claudia shouting at the top of her voice that it was a sign to drink more. No doubt the people who Lance had touched would feel the immediate effect of the magical energy flowing through them, restoring their energies as if they had just gotten a few hours of rest. The ones that might have had a headache or a stiff joint that day would have felt a sense of relief there.

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‘And not one bit better than Thomas,’ Lance thought, making his way over to the bathroom and locating the nearest sink that had a mirror. He let the cold-water flow through his hands for a few seconds before he splashed his face a few times. When he finally forced himself to look at his reflection in the mirror, he saw his unshaven reflection staring back at him. He noticed the way his shirt was hugging him, apparently somewhat tighter than before. His Rift-shard was visible due to him having opened the top buttons.

“Why the hell did I do that?” Lance wondered out loud as he stared at himself for a full minute. He wouldn’t normally want to stand out so much, not even when drunk. He had done it when he had changed into his civilian clothes, having used a private room in the back to have some privacy as he changed. Just before he had gone out, he had felt an ache in his chest for a moment, before he had opened his shirt a bit, feeling a surge of confidence as he did so. “It must be the alcohol,” Lance lied to himself before he shifted his attention to the notification on his status screen, demanding his attention.

[Congratulations, you have cleared this Rift.]

[You have been awarded a Level up.]

[You are now level 16.]

[You have unspent attribute points.]

There were several notifications demanding his attention, letting Lance know the system had awarded him with a level upon completion of the Rift. Lance had hoped that he would have gained another one from all the fighting in the end. Sadly, he was losing momentum in terms of experience. He did not doubt that he could level up further, but it would take even more time and experience. Still, the additional level gained upon completing the Rift was a welcome sight.

He briefly contemplated where he’d put the points. Agility had truly been effective inside the Rift, but it might be less important in others. He had balanced his Strength, Agility and Endurance rather well, being his top three attributes. ‘Should I stick to spreading out my points somewhat evenly, or should I specialise in a specific way?’ Lance thought, pondering on what might be the best course of action here. On one hand, he would do a lot of the heavy lifting himself, but also had Ash with him.

‘Perhaps I should make that decision when I am not several pints in?’ Lance thought, smiling as he concluded it was better to revisit the ‘attribute question’ in the morning. He splashed some more water on his face before he left the bathroom and buttoning up his shirt again. For now, he allowed himself to have the night off. After all, the four of them had just done a good thing for this town and its people. He then joined up with the others, seeing the euphoric state everyone was in.

‘I could get used to this.’

* * * * *

The following day, Lance had caught a late train back home to London. He had spent the night and the following day in Ipswich with the Rifters, hanging out and having dinner together. After that, Lance had said his farewells to Myles, Noel and Claudia, thanking them for their guidance and their companionship during the Rift. It was strange really, to have spent so many days with one another, sharing hardships and triumphs, only to have the calendar date back on Earth reveal that three days had passed.

The white clovers had invited Lance to join them again in a few weeks to clear the Ipswich Rift. They had tempted Lance to do so, seeing as he had enjoyed working with them, and he knew what to expect. He had told them he’d give it some thought, but that he would not mind working with them again in the future. A big part of him wanted to accept it, to belong to a group again, perhaps even learn to call them friends. No matter how big that part of him was, that longing, he knew his oath dwarfed that feeling. An oath that was drenched in blood and anger.

Still, Lance had gone up from level 11 to level 16, resulting in quite the decent increase. ‘It is nearly incomparable to what I experienced when I was working for R.A.M. both in terms of profit and experience,’ Lance thought, remembering how happy he had been back then when he and Thomas earned a few thousand pounds and a level up just from participating as porters. But there had been far more risks in this last Rift compared to an average Rift clearing with R.A.M. With R.A.M. there were a dozen other porters that had your back, as well as skilled fighters to keep him safe, so the pay-out was far less.

The white clovers had gotten a bigger cut, but Lance was still more than happy about it, seeing as he had recovered most of the money he had spent in the Workshop. Just to be sure he had read the amount correctly, Lance opened his banking app and read the most recent deposit he had received out loud. “Fifty-five thousand pounds.”

‘That money alone will help me in getting geared up for the next Rift and restock on supplies. And who knows how much money I will have after selling these,’ He thought, shifting his gaze to the bundle in the seat next to him. The dirt and blood-stained sack contained items he had salvaged from the Rift. Some, he figured he might keep and take with him, such as a knife, fork, mug, and a pot. But others he’d have no use for at this stage, so would be better off selling.

Lance closed the application on his phone, seeing the start screen display nearly forty missed calls and several text messages. Most of the missed calls had been from Daniel, while the text messages had been more varied, including his brother, Dieter, Daniel, and Kate. As per usual, he felt conflicted when it came to his brother. Out of habit, he wanted to ignore it but forced himself to read them, seeing as he had promised Thomas that he’d give his brother a chance.

He started reading the two messages left by his brother, Marcus. The first one was his Marcus asking how Lance was doing and if he was taking care of himself. The second one contained a picture of Marcus and his family, with some words of kindness about how Marcus’ son and daughter wanted to meet their uncle and them wishing him a happy day. Not sure what to make of it, for now, Lance marked the text as read and went to check out the other ones.

He was still reading them as he was carrying his things with him. There were many text messages from Daniel asking how he was doing and if he wanted to go train at the GRRO facility as they had done before, or to go out for a cup of coffee. Dieter’s text was blunter, asking Lance in German if he wanted to grab something to eat this week, not even bothering translating it into English.

He was unsure how to respond to Dieter and Daniel, especially the latter. Lance had texted them before he left for the Rift, telling them he was going to travel for a few days and see the country to get some fresh air. Dieter, he was sure he could deal with, but Daniel had a way of knowing when someone was lying. Lance wasn’t sure if it was Daniel’s natural gift at reading people, or if it was his absurdly high Perception stat. Either way, both would no doubt freak out if they learned Lance had gone to another Rift, mere weeks after surviving and experiencing a traumatising event and losing his best friend.

‘I’ll send them a text tonight and offer to grab a bite in a few days,’ Lance thought, hoping that would sufficiently subdue the protective nature of Daniel and Dieter. He would come clean with them at that point, seeing as it was only a matter of time before they would find out. He then began reading Kate’s message as he entered his apartment complex, making his way up the flight of stairs. Lance felt the heavy bag full of Rift-items jiggle occasionally, hinting that there was plenty of salvage inside.

His smile, however, faded from his features as he reached his door. His sensitive ears could pick up the groaning of wood on the other side, indicating movement. After spending the last several days fighting monsters, his training and experience quickly kicked in.

[You have stored an item in the inventory.]

[You have retrieved an item from the inventory.]

The phone vanished from his hand as the steel axe flickered in existence. He flung the sack of items over his shoulders, freeing his left hand as he opened the door and rushed inside, axe ready to strike. He heard a deep and roaring laugh as he entered his room, finding not a potential threat, but a dozen people that were busy decorating his living room.

Most of them had a shocked or confused look on their face when they spotted Lance with the axe, although Dieter was clutching his sides and was nearly wetting himself at Lance’s entrance and the reaction of the rest. Beside Dieter were several other Rifters that belonged to Dieter’s guild. On their right stood Kate, Jacob, and Oliver Walker, with Kate holding onto a large cake. Suddenly it dawned on Lance, the missed calls, the weird text message from his brother. His gaze shifted to the side, seeing his digital clock next to the television mark today as the 28th, Lance’s birthday.

Hearing a small cough, Lance shifted his gaze to the side, seeing Daniel standing there with a blank expression, making eye contact with Lance before Daniel’s gaze shifted downwards, to the sack of items that Lance had dropped in the confusion. A sack that had spilt all sorts of Rift-items out in the open.

‘I am so dead,’ Lance thought as he closed the door behind him, the room eerily silent save for Dieter’s constant laughter.

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2022 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2022

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