Chapter 68

They travelled slowly. Some of the newest recruits were not as fit as the rest of them, with averages even below pre-event levels. It was only a three-hour trip to their target and Sebastian guided them away from the highway, opting for a back road known only to the locals.

“There are some wolves along the way, but I don’t think they’ll bother you. A week ago this path was clear.” The young man chattered happily but Adrian noticed his eyes were dead. Another person who had lost more than they could cope with and now lived for revenge. He would heal. They all healed eventually, if the monsters did not get them first.

“Are you from Chiltern?” Adrian asked him.

“Yes.” He looked down angrily.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“How can I not? I should’ve made them do something.”

Adrian put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. “The world isn’t fair and sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

“I should scout,” Sebastian said, suddenly pulling away from him and jogging off.

“Good try,” Charlotte said next to him.

He walked in silence, not sure what to say. He felt sorry for Sebastian. One more victim in a constant stream of people who suffered horrifying losses. As for Adrian, Kozzie was a colossal blow, along with Jamal, but he was relatively lucky to have his family intact.

That gift the plant had given him, the confirmation that Emily and the kids were alive and prospering, was enough. To top it off, the interface had since promised that she was protected.

They were safe.

The guilt started to sink in. He was a multimillionaire and everyone he loved survived the apocalypse. To be fair, he had earned his riches by repeatedly risking his life to save tens of thousands of lives. In any case, he was awfully lucky.

“I need to help scout,” he declared. Sebastian’s bad mood was contagious.

Step, step, step.

Adrian did not intend to scout. While he remained hyperaware of his surroundings like everyone else, Adrian instead abused his magic focus to search for herbs, fruits, fungus, and anything else that might prove useful for alchemy. The ingredients were abundant and just the act of bending down and getting his hands dirty helped to calm him. Why the idea of being lucky ate away at him was a mystery. He had launched himself so suicidally at every enemy he saw. That flash of the beak, the agony of the troll, the blood in his mouth as the poison went through his body, bringing him to the brink of death. The path had not been easy, but he took the poison willingly. Despite knowing what it could do. How many other people in his situation would have done the same? Why did he live?

His wealth was well-earned and just like he needed to get over the octopod he also needed to let go of the survivor’s guilt. He did not want anything weighing on him in Melbourne, overshadowing his precious family time.

Watercress Carnivorous Mushroom

When disturbed, these fungi release a powerful poison that paralyses their prey. They can be used in a variety of alchemic recipes.

Estimated Value: 400 energy

A cluster of those spores surrounded him and only barely progressed his poison pathway. It was dangerous stuff and fast-acting as well. Three dead wolves lay among the fungi, too decayed to identify further, testifying to the poison’s efficacy. The first had succumbed, and from what he could tell, the other two had tried futilely to drag the first to safety. Only to perish when they absorbed too many of the spores. The mushroom disappeared into his bag of holding to join the forty others he had harvested. They were expensive because so few gatherers were immune enough to their poison to harvest them.

There was an abrupt change in the atmosphere. It took Adrian a moment to figure out what had happened. He could no longer hear the main group.

Battle wraith form activated for the duration of four shadow steps. An old gumtree stood next to him, providing shade and coverage as Ambusher’s Fade clicked on.

The large group that he was escorting had stopped and Sebastian was emphatically addressing them: “We’re on their main hunting grounds now. They saw you. We need a plan.”

Step, step.

“I think—” Mike began.

“No,” Adrian said, cutting him off. “I think Jules and I should do this.”

“The rangers will be helpful,” Mike argued. Adrian glowered at him. “They will,” Mike assured.

“Let’s say there are two hundred of them. Is that enough to threaten either of us?”

“Yes,” Mike said without hesitation. “That sort of firepower can overwhelm Jules.”

“Me?”

“Only if you’re stupid.”

“That settles it. I’ll attack from the back. You give me ten minutes and then you can send Jules or a group. By that time, they won’t be worried about ambushing anyone. And Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Do me a favour and keep our lives in mind when you strategize. None of this ‘acceptable loss’ bullshit.”

Mike’s face reddened. “I’m still getting used to the extra levels and figuring out how to use the skill properly. That time was a mistake.”

Adrian ignored the apology and jogged away. In short order, he was in the nature reserve surrounded by trees. Two facts helped him breathe easy. The first was that this forest was controlled by the shintopurs. Any large mobile threat would have been eliminated. The second bit of reassurance was that shintopurs, for all their animalistic fury, had no defence against his mind abilities. As a result, mind threads sprawled out in front of him, ensuring that there would never be an ambush. It was not an excuse to abandon caution; there would still be static traps. But, with his perception, thief, agility and step combination, it was unlikely even grandmaster trap-layers could catch him. The shintopurs were miles from that level.

Perception triggered on a deadfall trap. Well-laid and deadly. It was definitely placed by an expert, but despite that, he could see the edge of the trap sunken ever so slightly under a thin layer of soil.

Tripwire, neck wire, a trapped rock, a tree that would break violently if anyone leant on it. He skipped easily past all these potential hazards. There was almost a pattern to how the traps were being placed.

Step.

But not a precise pattern. Every now and again, there was an anomaly. The deadfall was huge and set up with the same pedantic care as the rest of them. Wide enough to make a challenging jump and as long as a bus. It was an impressive feat of engineering.

Once more, he ran and then slowed down. There were three hidden beasts facing Chiltern.

Why?

Maybe the massacre in Chiltern was not as bad as the people in Barnawartha thought. Or, perhaps they feared a counterattack from Wangaratta or whichever town was southwest of here.

His feet glided silently over the forest floor.

The shintopurs had dug into the ground with clear viewing ports, partially hidden under rocks. His mind skill had already pointed them out, but his perception triggered anyway, needlessly. The structure might have fooled a casual glance, but Jamal would have noticed it from hundreds of metres away. Even Jules would have been alarmed by it.

The fact that it was so obvious told Adrian that the shintopurs were more worried about something coming from the southwest than from the north. Considering that Adrian’s team had cleared the hoppers from Wodonga, they made the right call. Barnawartha was not a threat to them.

Anger filled him. That raid party they had taken out had been sent to wipe out the other town. Brutal, systematic, and relentless. That was how they used their power.

Adrian snuck up until he was standing almost on top of them. Mind spikes flashed out and the shintopurs’ brains crumbled under the strikes. He struck them one after another. A central powerful spike followed by two at half-strength less than a second later. He was not sure if the additions were needed, but the combination did the job. They died without shifting from their dens.

He moved on, laughing inside at their choice to make a tree-filled area their base. It left them helpless against him as he surfed among the plentiful shadows. Outside in the grassland they had a slightly better chance, but Adrian drifted easily around their camp eliminating another two watch stations and four wandering shintopurs. His spear tasted blood only once.

How long?

Thirty seconds until the group mobilises.

Adrian responded by taking an alternative pathway. He engaged a buff of strength but not size. The bushland would only entangle him further at that size. He would come down hard upon them like the angel of death. He would…

Pain speared through his leg.

What?

Looking down. A snake had bitten down on him.

Earth Tiger Snake

Native Earth snake mutated in the Alpha event to avoid detection and deliver fast-acting venom.

It was invisible with his magic focus and perception. Its venom was no longer related to pre-event lethality. Despite all his poison resistance, he could feel it spreading and it was moving fast. Pre-event, a tiger snake bite would have taken hours to kill. Now, without his advanced poison path he might already be dead.

He crushed the snake’s skull with his spear, releasing the grip of its jaws. He tried to activate his communication necklace to order the team to abort the attack, but his vocal cords would not produce sound. Frantically, he looked for the spell necklace but cursed internally when he realised he had not recharged it since yesterday and it no longer knew the pattern.

Lay of hands.

The image snatched him up.

Chapter 69

He was on a trolley bed in a hospital. With a jerk, he sat up and found Jaracol sitting opposite him. The alien looked uncomfortable, half-sliding off a padded chair.

“What?”

The alien shrugged helplessly.

“Am I dying?”

Jaracol said nothing.

“I can’t be. We were winning.”

Another helpless shrug. “We were, and it was glorious.”

“Are you crying?”

“No,” Jaracol answered stiffly. “This species can’t cry.” Then he did his barking laugh. Forced and awkward.

“But I’m dying?”

Jaracol was pointedly flipping a red pill in his hand. “You know I detested you initially.”

“I…”

Jaracol waved his interruption away. “But I was wrong. You have courage and humanity and that’s a commendable combination.”

They sat in silence.

“I’m dying.”

“You are dead, but…” He trailed off, his expression melting into pure anguish. It made Adrian’s heart thud and throat dry up. “Fuck you, Alpha event,” Jaracol whispered so quietly that even just two metres away Adrian could barely hear it.

Genuine tears swelled in Adrian’s eyes, unscripted by Jaracol’s simulation. Jaracol felt real, like a hurt human, a being of empathy. That was not how the interface was supposed to behave. Adrian replayed those words.

You are dead.

The snake had bitten him. Everything had been going so well and now it looked like his interface was having a breakdown. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

Jaracol flipped the red pill.

Adrian wanted to ask about the pill, but he held his tongue. He was afraid of the answer.

“It was all in place. Against the odds, we were winning. You had done so much right, more than you realised. You saved us from the dersbrawk, you chose pain to win and sacrificed for the team so many times, until it mattered.” Jaracol smacked the seat next to him, his nails shredded the fabric. “Luck and hard work made you into something special, and…”

The wailing scream made Adrian’s ears hurt and the hairs on his arms rise. One fluorescent bulb in the ceiling exploded, yet Jaracol did not even look transfixed by the emotions captured in that howl.

“A random detail. A stupid snake. A fucking Earth creature.”

Another wail. Two more of the bulbs shattered, leaving only one intact and lit. Adrian touched his ears. It was only a simulation, but his finger came away bloody. If this was real life, he would have been deafened at least until magic fixed it.

Twin tracks of saltwater ran down Adrian’s face. He was dead. He knew Jaracol would be crying too if his anatomy allowed it. “I’m sorry,” he choked.

Jaracol flipped the pill again. “Not your fault.” Another barking laugh, but this one was bitter. “It wasn’t even something impressive, a dragon or a dread unicorn or even a whitlsprout. None of that. Just a stupid Earth snake.”

“I’m sorry I let you down.”

“I thought you were being stupid back in Wagga, wondering if Australian snakes could be threatening in new Alpha worlds. I think I was wrong. That snake that bit you…I didn’t see it. Your mind threads missed it. It was invisible.”

“Can we cheat?”

“What? You would bargain against inevitable death?”

“No. Yes…I don’t want to die.”

Jaracol stood for the first time. The species was bipedal with a tail. He was only about as tall as Adrian’s hips.

“I don’t want you to die, either.”

“Can someone heal me?”

Jaracol shook his head.

“Suck out the venom like we learned in school?”

“None of that.” Jaracol waved his hands dismissively. He flipped the red pill. “Do you know what this is?”

“Is it a Matrix reference?”

The colour changed to a sickly green.

“No. It’s a…” Jaracol was struggling to get the words out. “Something precious that I only have one of.”

It was not a trick. Adrian internalized that suddenly. This was not some elaborate play by the interface, not a practical joke. It was real. He was already dead. Or dying.

“Does the pill take me to the afterlife or make me a trader?”

“No, that comes later. It’s an involved process. Death is death, at least according to science. Who knows? There might be a god!” Jaracol did not sound convinced.

“What does the pill do?”

Jaracol stared at the sickly green pill. He flipped it. “I can’t believe you tried to remove me.”

“I was angry. I’m sorry. It was impulsive and stupid.”

“Yeah, but I admire the courage and willingness to stand up for yourself. You know I provoked you deliberately to get that sort of reaction.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured out later,” Adrian confessed.

“You need the hosts to be independent,” Jaracol explained.

“Otherwise, you end up controlling them and that’s Evil,” Adrian finished for him.

“Yep.” Jaracol flipped the pill once more.

“Are you going to tell me what that is?”

“It’s a piece of code, a panic button sort of thing.”

With those words, Adrian knew it was the cheat that would resuscitate him. “What are the consequences?”

“You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Jaracol kept flipping the pill. “There are two…”

Jaracol trailed off into silence. Adrian looked up. The place Jaracol had brought him was a typical hospital room with none of the artificial aging. The walls were white, the tiles an ugly brown, the fluorescent bulbs broken, their sharp flakes of glass now covering the floor. Impersonal furniture, a crappy TV.

“Go on,” Adrian said eventually.

“I use this, and I’m out. The system won’t let me contact you or influence you anymore.”

“And the second option?”

Jaracol looked sad at that question. “The second is irrelevant. We’re taking the pill. I’ve decided.”

Jaracol flipped the pill again, and Adrian rolled off the bed and snatched it out of the air. “Not until you tell me what the second consequence is.”

Chapter 70

“That’s unnecessary,” Jaracol said quietly, and he produced a second pill.

“I get it. We both have to agree to take the pill, don’t we?”

“Yes.” The word seemed to be squeezed out of him. “Unfortunately.”

“So, what’s the other consequence?”

“I’ll tell you if you swear to take the pill.”

“No,” Adrian said after a moment’s thought.

“You need to live to see your wife and kids,” Jaracol said fiercely. “How can you say no?”

“I’m not getting bound to a decision unless I have all the information,” Adrian told him stubbornly.

“You can’t save the world if you’re dead.”

“Agreed.”

“You can’t hug your wife if you’re dead.”

“Agreed.”

“You can’t protect your kids.”

“I get it,” Adrian snapped. “My family is everything, but…”

“Don’t start,” Jaracol said quietly. “Do what’s right for you and yours.”

“Spit it out,” Adrian said, getting exhausted. “I’m tired of this.”

“Physically?” Jaracol asked, alarm flashing across the alien features.

Adrian nodded and realised he was indeed exhausted and sore.

“Shit. I take this. I get sidelined for a thousand alpha events and don’t get a replacement pill for another a hundred thousand.”

“And?” Adrian asked, noticing the interface’s hesitation.

“I need to face a tribunal.”

“And if they rule against you?”

“They won’t,” Jaracol said dismissively. “This is the first time I’ve used the pill. They know I’m good for it.”

“But if they do?”

“They won’t.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Then I’m wiped and discarded,” Jaracol said matter-of-factly. “Which is the right move. Defective interfaces are too dangerous.”

“You’re executed,” Adrian stated grimly.

Jaracol looked him in the eye. “Not going to happen.”

“Why would you risk it?”

“Because it’s so unlikely.”

“And how likely is that?”

Jaracol hesitated. “With an unbiased tribunal, I’m safe.”

“Why aren’t you being straight with me?”

“I don’t have a single, straightforward model because it depends on too many variables. The worst model gives me a one percent chance of being switched off, but the average is closer to one in a million.”

“A one percent chance of dying!”

Jaracol looked unconcerned. “That’s cheery picking. The average is what you need to look at. One in a million.” Jaracol flipped the pill in his hands and Adrian noticed the one he had snatched had vanished into thin air.

“But still! You would risk that for me? I thought you didn’t like me.”

Jaracol scoffed at that. “I like you perfectly fine. Remember your family, Adrian. It’s been an honour to share this journey with you and it’ll be sad that I won’t be able to finish it.”

“But if you do this, you might die.”

“Bah. You humans just don’t understand what one in a million means. Plus, did you miss the bit about being sidelined? A passive rider for a thousand iterations? That’s the bit you need to feel sorry about. I won’t die, but I’ll spend a thousand lifetimes watching idiotic decisions from the background. That’s going to be torture. And that is almost a certainty.”

“Almost?”

“There is a chance that penalty for using the pill can be waived, but that only occurs if your Alpha event is declared catastrophic in the next month, the odds of that happening are vanishingly small.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what a catastrophic event is.”

“The bad one.”

“6.3 percent of all Alpha events are catastrophic,” Jaracol clarified. “Less than a one percent chance of being declared in the first ten years. Less than a one-in-ten-thousand chance of being declared in the first three months, which is what I need. Are you listening to me? With an average sapient life span of twenty years, we’re talking twenty thousand years of watching hosts do stupid shit and not being able to do a thing to help them.” Jaracol shuddered so much he fell out of the chair.

“Thank you,” Adrian said simply.

Jaracol nodded. Suddenly he was standing next to Adrian’s bed, his entire posture more business-like. “Have you felt any more tired in the last few minutes?”

“No.”

“Good. We have time to do this properly.”

The shock started to hit Adrian. The interface was sacrificing itself for him. Twenty thousand years as an observer Adrian could only imagine how horrible that would be. After all he had experienced, it was surreal. He thought Jaracol did not care and now he was willing to submit to thousands of years of being a helpless passenger for him. And all because of an Australian snake.

“If we’re being punished anyway, then we might as well make the most of it,” Jaracol said. The hospital vanished, and they were back in the meadow where they had their first chat. Coffee was on the table.

“Let me,” Adrian said, leaning forward quickly to serve the alien. The blue liquid bubbled over, and he passed it across to Jaracol before pouring his own coffee.

“Your body is not yet dead, but to fight off the poison we need to access skills and libraries that are locked. Hence the pill.”

“The poison is that bad?”

“It’s not necessarily unique, but if you were to class it, then it would be mythical.”

“I had no chance against it.”

“How did it bite me? My shield?”

“Your shield activates against threats. If it never senses something, then it won’t activate. It’s not omnipotent. If I don’t see the threat, then the shield doesn’t either.”

“That’s a flaw.”

“We don’t control time and we can’t keep a shield in place forever. In the end, it’s just physics of the Alpha reality. It’s the best we can do with the resources available. Anyway.” He shook his head at the unimportant details. “We need to talk about what’s next. The moment we use this pill, I’m gone forever. Be ready for that.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You need to be more cautious,” Jaracol continued. “More analytical, less trusting. Look after yourself instead of others.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Lean on Jules and Charlotte more. They’re your friends. Don’t trust anyone else you meet.”

“I’m a grown man,” Adrian protested.

Jaracol smiled sadly, reminding Adrian of the dire circumstances of this meeting. “Don’t stuff it up. Don’t be too proud to accept help.”

“I get it.”

“Psychologically, you’re going to find it hard,” Jaracol told him seriously. “I’ve been in your head, in your emotions, for two months.”

“I’m strong.”

“Yes, you are. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

“So, knuckle down and do sensible things.”

Barking laughter greeted that statement. “The last thing we need to discuss, then, is the transition. If we’re opening the library, we can probably make some more adjustments. If I’m only getting rapped on the knuckles, then I might as well cheat big.”

“Can you promote me to level one hundred?”

“Ahh, no. That”—Jaracol gestured at the pill—“sets off an emergency signal. You’ll be watched, so we need to keep you at your current level. Can’t have system controls getting involved. It’s always messy when they stick their nose in things.”

“What are you suggesting then?”

“Upgrade you, get rid of the stuff you don’t like, improve scouting, maybe add fire and ice into your air core, improve the spear.”

“Why?”

Jaracol did one of his awkward winks. “Because they’ll look at you, not your spear.”

“Then how exactly can you upgrade me?”

“We tweak your mind control. Make the scouting passive, improve mind spike, remove the ability to change memories.”

“You can do that?”

“There are trade-offs. You’ll keep the important stuff that keeps you alive—you can still create illusions and tell if someone is lying—but get rid of the components that you were uncomfortable with. The net result is that we get capacity to improve other things.”

“It sounds like a nerf.”

“One that you’ll be happy with. It’s a repurposing of functionality.”

“Okay. I could approve that.”

Jaracol looked at him, the eyes boring into Adrian’s until Adrian broke eye contact in embarrassment. “I don’t need approval. I’m informing you as a courtesy. Then we use a tiny smidge of that liberated potential to strengthen wind gust. The rest we can throw into a broad-range scouting ability. I can extend it out to forty metres, and it’ll let you see everything, including that bloody snake.” Jaracol sighed. “A native species was my host’s demise. The other interfaces are going to laugh so hard.”

Jaracol seemed energised at this challenge. “Change your core to include a small amount of fire and ice. You can figure out how to adjust your meditation technique to take advantage of that. For now, we’ll just seed it. Do nothing for a few months. We don’t want it active when Big Brother looks.”

Jaracol was jumping with energy and ideas. “Now your spear. I’m going to enhance it more with a bunch of air spell structures. Wind blades, barrier, fists and air telekinesis.” In Jaracol’s hands, there was a glowing ball of energy that Adrian knew contained the gift for the spear. “That’s all we can do without tipping off the watchers. Mental stuff is on you, and you need to be ready for my absence. Don’t trust the badge unless you get hard numbers. It’s not going to plan anything for you. That was me meddling, not the badge. Stick to yes or no answers for it. It has access to lots of knowledge, but it’s unstructured and more likely to get you in trouble than not.”

“Wait.”

“Why?” Jaracol asked brightly.

“Are you sure about this?”

Jaracol’s head bobbed.

“It’ll be at least a thousand events until you can help someone else.” That was significant. Jaracol was giving up the chance to save hundreds of lives over that time.

Adrian wanted to keep talking, but he bit his tongue. The sharp pain that reflected the deterioration of his body had almost reached his facial features and both him and Jaracol knew they were out of time. The interface was ancient. If it was willing to make this choice and let him see Emily, then so be it.

Jaracol bowed to him. “Adrian Fitzgerald,” he proclaimed with a toothy grin, “don’t panic.”

He started his barking laughter and Adrian found himself holding the sickly green pill and raising it towards his mouth. It was all theatrics. He placed it in his mouth while Jaracol barked in amusement.

And there was nothing Adrian could do to stop the process. His tongue lifted and his throat muscles contracted, forcing the lump down.

The world went white. The last thing he saw was Jaracol hunched over, barking madly away.

Chapter 71

The white was replaced by the feeling of rough leaves against his skin and the taste of dirt. His whole body thrummed with energy. No exhaustion and no pain. As his eyes came into focus, he flinched. In front of his face was the carcass of the culprit.

The snake.

Jaracol?

Silence.

Judging from the light filtering onto the bush floor, very little time had passed.

JARACOL?

He screamed the name in his head, but of course, there was no answer.

Jules!

He clambered to his feet. They were about to attack the shintopurs, and he was supposed to be there to help them.

“Jules,” he whispered into the communication device.

“It’s Adrian!” Charlotte’s excited voice came over the airwaves. He winced at the volume.

“Adrian!” Jules shouted. “Where are you? What happened? Are you coming?”

“I’m safe.”

And he was. Jaracol was serious about the new scouting range. He was aware of everything within forty metres of himself. It was a tremendously long way in a forest, a domain that extended far beyond what he could see. It was like sitting in his living room and being keenly aware of the goings on two houses away. Even in an area controlled by the shintopurs, there were thirty-five different things he could spot that could hurt him, but nothing deadly. None of those creatures would bother him unless they had a death wish.

“Are you safe?” he asked.

“Us?” Jules sounded confused. “Of course. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I guess. Wait, how long have I been out of contact?”

“At least half an hour,” Mike mumbled. “What happened?”

“I…” Adrian hesitated, but there was no reason to keep Jaracol’s secret any longer. By feeding him the pill, Jaracol had broken the fourth wall, so to speak. His secret was out and the system he had been hiding it from knew everything. “A snake bit me and I died,” he said simply. “My interface saved me.”

“Okay…?” There was confusion in Mike’s voice.

“My interface fell on his sword for me,” he said, his voice suddenly breaking. “Where are you? I’ll catch up.”

“What do you mean, ‘his’? We’re in the main camp. We think we got them all, but there might be strays.”

Adrian opened his internal map and checked. “I’ll be there in two.”

Adrian put his hands on his head and squinted up at the sky. There were tiny patches of blue through the clouds, dragged slowly around by the swirling breeze. He remembered Jaracol’s scream, that frustration, despair and pain. Alone in the woods, Adrian wanted to express himself in the same way. Make all the annoying birds, spiders and possums flee in terror. Just let it all out. Primal and fierce, scream his own defiance at the world, at the rules that bound them.

“I shouldn’t have let…”

Almost striking the tear off his face and then booting the cursed snake. It slammed into a tree five metres away. In another time and place, he might have admired the kick.

“Damn you. Goddamn nature. Why?”

Brushing off more saltwater. Losing that comforting presence in the back of his mind was a kick in the pants.

He punched the nearest tree. A solid thunk. His gauntlet vanished, and he punched again. And again.

There was a crack of bone.

He hit it again. Blood spurted. It hurt. He was being immature.

Step.

Scooping up the snake. If its poison was enough to kill him, it must have been valuable.

Lay of hands.

The bones clicked back into position, and the cuts closed smoothly. With a thought, his gauntlet reappeared.

What a shit day.

Out of habit, he waited for a response to his thought. Nothing.

Of course, Jaracol was probably still monitoring him. Disabled and unable to communicate, still directing his spells and running the complex calculations that they needed to function.

“Thank you, Jaracol. I’ll do my best to make it worthwhile.”

With a sigh, he activated battle wraith and sped through the forest. Now that he was moving, he could fully appreciate the gift from Jaracol. The mind scouting was passive, unlike the active mind threads. It was supplemented by four senses, as far as he could tell: sound, thermal vision, a topographic map created via his air magic, and lastly, a cluster of little magic eddies that identified sources of magic. Together they searched for minds, heartbeats, heat, physical location and magic. And his own vision on top of that.

There was no delay. In an instant, all four effects fanned out. The magic sense detected something high in the tree, out of sight.

Step, step.

From a neighbouring tree, he gazed at the source of concentrated magical energy: a thick patch of lichen.

Earth Foliose Lichen

This variety of lichen has absorbed a significant amount of energy in a mana storm that reinforced its fibres to resist both magical energy and physical attacks.

The tangles of green stretched along a thick branch.

Wind Levitate.

It was only a wind gust that was designed to carry him, but it was damn effective, and the spear stabilised him as he flew. He effortlessly alighted on the distant tree. Looking back, he judged that it was a solid four-metre jump. He may not technically have been able to fly, but it certainly felt like he could.

He looked down at the lichen. According to his identification, it was purely defensive. With a shrug, he pressed his knife down. Despite its synthetic sharpness, it did no damage.

Triple blade.

It slammed into the lichen. The branch rocked like it had been hit by sledgehammer but did not break. The lichen was completely unharmed. Hastily, he cut under the plant, slicing deep into the wood to pry each clump out. There was no need to rush. In the time he had spent either dying or dead, the others had killed the shintopurs.

He had been careless for no reason. He had wanted to crush the shintopurs himself so his friends would not need to risk their lives. That haste got him killed.

The last of the eight clumps dislodged, and he was off again.

The sensory upgrade was amazing. All the shintopurs’ traps were obvious even before he got a clear line of sight on them.

Battle wraith had also improved. Not only was the pathway finished, but its time limit had also been extended. He now had almost twenty minutes of use with only an eleven-hour recharge. Given the skill’s battle utility, those extra minutes were precious.

The space in front of him changed from dense bush to scattered trees, and two steps later he emerged into a large clearing. He was stunned by the size of it. Three or four football fields cleared in the centre of the bush. The entire area was covered with log houses, all of them with a ceiling too low for a human.

There was a row of dead adult shintopurs, including four that had died before reaching the failed defensive line. This was their last stand. The monsters must have been caught off-guard, scrambling.

Jules had clearly made a dent. Bodies were strewn wildly in the centre, and magical attacks had struck the sides. A few corpses were still smoking. The cleared area was a hive of activity with the men and a couple of women from Barnawartha in the centre of it. Even from where he stood, Adrian could see they were not holding back. Three of them were casting fire spells on the log cabins.

They had killed the shintopurs without him. He should not have felt surprised; the first raid party was pathetically easy to kill. Jules was standing casually in the centre with her back to Mike, looking out. Mike was surrounded by women: Charlotte, Joanne, Jules, and Omala.

Jules saw him and he watched the relief wash through her. She thought he was dead.

“Thank you, Jaracol,” he repeated through a thick throat.

Jules was running towards him at an impressive pace. She was using her berserker skills to mimic someone with forty agility. Within three seconds, she scooped him up and spun him around. He felt like a toddler.

“I was so worried.”

“A snake bit me,” he told her once she set him down. “A goddamn tiger snake.”

“What? Are you serious? But you’re immune to poison!”

“Not this stuff,” he admitted. “I was running along, feeling invincible, and then bam.”

“But you’re alive.”

“Jaracol saved me.”

“Who?” There were tear streaks on her face.

“My interface.”

“You named your interface?”

“No, Jaracol was his name.”

“And he’s dead?”

”Sort of.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“It was the only way he could save me. He’s helped hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of sapients before me, and now he’s barred from his duties, maybe forever. It’s just…” The tears flooded out. “I feel so unworthy.”

Jules started striding into the forest, pulling him along. “Let’s go somewhere nicer.”

He gestured toward the others. “What about—”

“They can handle it,” Jules said.

He collapsed down against a tree with Jules beside him, feeling the calming shelter of the surrounding forest. “We need to stop doing this,” he tried to joke.

“Talk,” Jules said simply. “Let it out.”