CHAPTER 7

The sting of my thigh made me recall the injury I took while blind under the effects of the conjured orb of light. I could only give thanks to Aiur that physically, I didn’t come out of the battle with many wounds. Sadly, I cannot say the same for my head.

The throbbing of the residue psionic power in my head is making it hard for me to think. I literally had tentacles filling up my sensitive spots while sending me into a cacophony of pleasure despite my obvious revulsion.

Wait. Does this mean I just had mind sex with a creature born of evil?

Eww.

Nope. Double nope.

Let’s not go there.

Although I’ll admit, that was foolish of me. If it was my elder sister, she wouldn’t have even been caught in the first place. I shouldn’t have peeked a glance over at the Beholder when I first arrived. I should have found a more secure vantage point, further away perhaps. This confrontation could have been avoided entirely. No matter, live and learn I suppose.

Eventually, I hobbled myself over to a still standing stalactite nearby and began stabbing my dagger into the rocky interior. The stalactites aren’t all solid on the inside. Contrary, quite a few are hollow. The hollow interior is sometimes connected to one of the Ley Lines where Aiur’s presence naturally accumulates at a faster rate. In some cases, it would turn to liquid and be pushed upward due to the heat of the planet’s core. There it is, a white milky substance began oozing out of the rock as it slowly dripped to the ground.

I hurriedly ripped a section of my sleeve and soaked it under the stalactite sap.

Now is the part I dread.

I took a solid hold over the protruding crystal shard still embedded in my thigh and yanked it out.

I almost convulsed and fell down from the pain, but I know I can’t relax just yet. Using the soaked piece of leather, I tied it around the wound as a makeshift bandage. The sap is one of the key ingredients to making a healing tonic. Although a healing tonic is much more potent, the sap has mild restorative properties which make it ideal for a makeshift remedy.

With my field bandage completed, it should take less than one cycle to completely heal up. I looked around to contemplate my next move. The battle with the Beholder definitely left evidence on the environment. Broken stalactites from the psionic shards and yellow blood from the creature are bound to attract attention.

And I still haven’t had any food.

Hmm, since I haven’t encountered anything that may help, what if I simply make them come to me? Although I don’t know where I am exactly, I could feel the pull toward Conqueror’s Crag is within the Middle Reaches. That means there’s a high chance of stumbling upon another civilised race who would definitely investigate the disturbance within this cavern.

Even with my wounded thigh, I managed to climb a stalactite nearby with enough moss and foliage to keep me hidden. I leaned back against the trunk of the spiralling rock to close my eyes for some much-needed rest while my ears continued to flick toward any sounds of movement.

A sound woke me up from my half-alert state. Massaging my injured thigh with my hand, I noticed the pain has mostly disappeared and all that remains is a slight dull ache. I must have been resting longer than I thought.

My ears flicked toward the disturbance as I took a glance at my next prey. A short man with a stocky stature cautiously inspected the area before crouching down to inspect the footprints on the edge of the battlefield. The short stature, bald head and long grey beard indicated this was a Duergar. The Dwarvish variants of the Underworld.

The Duergar carried a large backpack with a pick axe hanging from his side. He was most likely mining for gems within the cavern when he got lured by the distraction.

Eventually, the Duergar cautiously approached the Beholder whilst glancing at his surroundings. Even from here, I could see the glitter of greed in his eyes. A creature such as a Beholder is rarely seen in the Middle Reaches and its body is a natural treasure trove of materials.

After ensuring that he is relatively safe, the Duergar placed his backpack down and began poking the corpse with his pickaxe. Soon he began the process of dismembering through the mangled flesh.

What’s this? Did my luck finally work in my favour for once?

A feral grin slowly made its way onto my face. I can’t help it. With the way the Duergar was moving, this appears to be a lone miner. Possibly a scout for checking out this cavern. Regardless, he is alone. Meaning he is now my prey.

I slowly made my way down the stalactite, making sure not to kick loose any stones, lest they end up startling the Duergar. Once on solid ground, I drew my dagger whilst remaining in a crouched position and began moving forward using my toes to carefully shift my weight.

The stupid Duergar left his backpack a few paces behind him while he worked on the corpse. Being alone, he must have supplies to last him a few cycles in his pack.

I gradually arrived closer and closer whilst being careful with my breathing. Long deep breaths in short intakes.

Almost there, I’m within arm's reach now.

A sound.

The Duergar and I both turn our heads slightly forward to the right where the sound came originated. The Duergar tensed, whilst holding his skinning knife in an offensive position. Contrary to the Dwarf, I froze completely. I didn’t even dare to breathe. My legs ready to pounce if things go awry.

…

Nothing came out.

The Duergar simply shrugged his shoulders whilst taking glimpses ahead every few moments as he went back to work.

I decided a confrontation is likely to my disadvantage. Although I have the element of surprise, the Duergar is clearly more cautious after that small disturbance. Not to mention I am still slightly injured.

Instead, I reached out my hand and gently lifted the backpack as to not make a sound. Without even turning around, I began walking backwards with my free hand occasionally being used to keep myself stable.

Once I reached the stalactite in which I rested upon, I slowly stood up and began walking away at a fast pace. I couldn’t help but take a few glimpses behind me just to ensure I wasn’t discovered.

I let out a breath of relief. No confrontation, no getting caught.

Until I heard the crunching of boots.

I threw myself behind a boulder. Backpack hugged tightly, my other hand covering my mouth whilst my eyes are wide in disbelief.

Them.

A Drow whose gaze was lifelessly trotting forward in a staggered manner. He was dragging a rusted sword where the sound of metal on rock slowly grinds leaving a small trail of sparks. His skin was pale and rotting, the previous pristine armour was is now reduced to nothing but rags. Following the lifeless Drow was a group of all sorts of humanoid creatures who were once sentient. An assortment of Lizardmen, Duergar and Beastmen proceeded to follow after the leading lifeless Drow, all armed with a variety of deteriorated weapons.

Thralls.

I tightly gripped the backpack closer to my body in an attempt to muffle the sound of my heart. Thankfully Thralls are wiped of all intelligence once they are mind-slaved. That doesn’t mean they have no fighting potential, on the contrary, they are ruthless. If one were to underestimate a Thrall fallen swordsmen, that Thrall would defeat you with ease since the body naturally remembers the training it once underwent. All sword skills are still useable but without the intelligence to fight, any individual should be able to overcome a single Thrall. But where there is one Thrall, you will likely find a whole group following behind.

I haven’t been noticed. The Thralls walked straight pass me without offering a single glance. The only thing they are capable of doing is following the order they were given. This group most likely belonged to that Beholder I killed with the last order being ‘return and protect my body’ or something like that.

I took a glance in the direction of where the Duergar is harvesting from the Beholder’s body.

With a shrug, I decided it’s time to be on my way.

This.

This is what I’m good at.

This is what I was trained to do.

Not acting and giving sob stories for some scam.

Not being interrogated and physically abused.

Not fighting head on with creatures of the Underworld.

My sister trained me as a stealthy thief. And I’m a damn good one as well.

My dagger flashed with a spray of red blood caused the Chaos Snake to lash out one final time before life left its body. I crouched down and my dagger entered the now dead flesh of the Chaos Snake once more, only this time to skin the corpse rather than kill it.

It has been two full cycles since the incident with the Beholder. I’ve used the time to hone my perception and stealth to the level whilst I was trained by my sister. The time in Calira’s crew was mainly utilised through acting, scams and general deception. While such skills are useful, it doesn’t help in regards to actual survival outside the city.

Every creature I find on my way back to the Sisterhood I would stalk from afar, carefully assessing my ability to kill it in one strike. If the creature was too much for me to take on, which considering the Underworld is about seventy percent of the creatures, I would simply avoid their territory.

Any injuries I accumulate will be on display when I arrive at the Sisterhood and I do not want to leave a bad impression.

The danger of the Underworld made me realise how complacent I became through living as a thief. Sure, living within Conqueror’s Crag means you have to always be cautious of receiving a knife in the back.

This is especially true within the Drow capital city. If you are not capable of scheming you would be eaten alive. Contrary, within the wilderness there is this hidden sense of danger lurking around every corner.

A hidden threat underneath every rock.

A feeling that something is always watching you.

Slowly, my hand reached to my belt before tightly gripping a sharp metal shard I originally found within the backpack of the dumb Duergar.

The soft crunching of dirt was all the warning I needed to fling the impromptu knife as accurately as I could.

The echo of metal vibrated through the cavern as the shard bounced harmlessly off the ground after being deflected.

I frowned, frustration twisting my lips like I just tasted a sour lemon. I don’t particularly enjoy knowing I couldn’t kill something in one hit. I enjoy it even less when someone is trying to sneak up on me.

“Woah, there!” a shocked voice exclaimed as a Drow man walked out from behind the boulder. The man walked out nonchalantly, however his curved sword was held cautiously, ready for any dangerous movements.

“What is a young Drow like you doing all the way out here?” the man curiously asked.

The soft sounds of my voice came out, mostly out of instinct since my hands were preoccupied tightly gripping my weapon, “W-wha-what do you mean?” damn it, I haven’t had a conversation using my voice in so long. I’m definitely out of practice.

“Are you okay? Are you out here for training? Where is your guardian?” the man stared at the corpse for a few moments before he began appraising me from top to bottom.

I’m currently wearing a brown cloak found within the Duergar backpack. Although, since the cloak was made for a Duergar, the length of said cloak would be as you would imagine. Short.

My face began heating up and I can almost imagine steam rising from my ears at the fact that this Drow can basically see under the cloak, revealing my embarrassing outfit.

“I don’t need no guardian!” I gave the man the biggest glare hoping he would take the hint and leave.

He chuckled.

...

I don’t think it worked.

“Umm, what are you doing out here?” I asked back, trying to divert his attention.

At my question, the Drow’s copper red eyes had a glazed lustre for a second before turning back to normal.

“I’m just a simple forward scout for a merchant caravan a few ways back.” the man gave a shrug in response.

“How far back?”

“Probably a candle mark or two behind.”

“I see…” I began biting my lips, contemplating my options. Seeing this, the man simply stayed a few paces away from me leaving me to my thoughts.

After a moment’s hesitation I softly spoke up again, “Could-um could you help me? I don’t know how to skin the creature properly… You see, I need the skin to pass my test...”

He gave a small smile and nodded. the scout came over and crouched next to me whilst sheathing his sword and bringing out a small dagger.

“First you start at this par-”

Before he could continue, I already plunged my dagger into his exposed neck.

A look of shock was expressed all over his face as his eyes stared at me in disbelief.

I withdrew my dagger and his body lifelessly fell to the ground.

If the merchant caravan won’t arrive for another few candle marks then what’s stopping me from killing you? Especially after he saw me in this skimpy outfit. Nobody is allowed to live after seeing me in such an embarrassing state.

And why was he so compliant? Did he really think I’m out training? Is he dumb? All I did was asked a few questions to distract him, it’s not like-

An involuntary gasp escaped me.

It wasn’t the questions. It was my voice. The Voice of a Siren. The ritual gave me my voice back, it’s a fair assumption that it now has the enchanting quality it was known to give.

The scout must have had low mental defences to have fallen for it so easily.

If the average Drow is anything like this scout…

I couldn’t stop myself from madly grinning. My hungry smile could probably rival Calira’s.

I could get used to this.

After searching the scout’s dead body, I now have a small pouch of jiggling coins, a new sword and a hand crossbow with a leather sling I swung around my shoulder.

I gave the two dead corpses a final look.

Meh, it’s not my problem anymore.