Chapter 3: Black Tower.

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…if a God truly exists, I pray that he takes pity on us and help us against that fiend, otherwise I doubt our race will live to see another spring. The Lords still underestimate him and think us capable of winning. They will keep thinking that they still have the bastard within their grasps until the very moment he consumes them…

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Kancil woke to a blinding—almost burning—light. He could not even force himself to open his eye. What happened? He thought. Had the tunnels finally collapsed and crushed them? Was he dead? He had always discussed with the others how would it be if they died in their sleep and had to wake to whatever death was like, but never thought that would actually happen.

So it is like this. He mused.

He relaxed, accepting his fate, when he took a deep breath that sent strings of pain all through his torso. His limbs jerked due to the pain, flaring further pain through all his body.

He began to heave quickly, flailing his arms around trying to get a gist of what was happening, He felt like he was being tortured. Maybe some creature within the tunnels had captured them and now were on their way to make them their dinner, or… maybe the bastards that called themselves gods had descended again. It would explain the blinding light and the sadism to torture him, but why? They had said that they wouldn’t appear before him again.

He should make a mental note not to believe what the bastards say again.

“Stay bloody quiet.” He felt a strong hand push him to the ground.

“W-what?” He tried to open his eye again to look at the owner of the hand and the voice, but without much success.

“Don’t move so much. Your wounds will worsen.” Someone said.

“Who is this?” Kancil asked.

“I’m a healer. You’re badly wounded, don’t move.” The voice said. “I wonder what kind of bastard did this to you.”

“The bloody recruits did.” Another voice said. “They wouldn't stop attacking even when I commanded them to stop. Thankfully he seems to be more skilled than the others and protected himself better.”

“Better? He is the one worse off among the three. The others have flesh wounds and a few broken bones, but he… His internal organs were almost ruptured. I didn’t know the recruits were so strong to do something like that with their low levels. They went pretty hard on his stomach.” The healer said.

“Oh… Um, about that…”

“What is it?”

“I think it was me. The one who caused that…”

“What?” The healer said, outraged. “Attalus, did you pair up with the recruits to beat them?”

“It’s not like that. The brat wouldn't stop struggling because we had to leave one of his dead friends behind.” Attalus said. “Don't give me that look, it had to be done. We might as well all died if we had to stop to convince him. What I did saved his life-”

“Barely.” The healer interrupted. “If I hadn't had that medium grade potion with me the brat would be dead by now.”

“Anyways. It ended up well. He’s alive.” Attalus said. “I’ll go with the others to scout the area. I’ll leave you to your things.”

“Anyways?” The healer muttered and then sighed. The other person had already left.

Kancil laid unmoving, processing what they had just said.

Ravi was dead.

The memories of what had happened returned to him. They had killed him. The legionnaires. ‘People’s legions’. What a load of crap. They were just like every other citizen, only caring about their own asses. If they had bothered to look at them properly instead of charging to satisfy their vain blood-lust that wouldn't have happened. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. He had to endure. He had lived his whole life enduring, it shouldn't be that hard.

It shouldn’t, yet he found himself weeping. His friend had been killed, but he felt immense relief to finally be out of that shit-hole. He couldn't help but feel like trash because he even felt grateful to the bastards that killed Ravi.

“No.” Kancil yelled all of sudden and pulled his left arm, cutting off his tears.

“I need to see the wound below that bandage.” The healer said.

“There’s nothing there. I just like using it.” Kancil mumbled.

“Is that right?” The healer said, doubtful. “And you just like using that bandage on your eye as well, right?”

“…yes…”

“Whatever suits you best. I can’t sense any big wound with my mana, so I guess you’re not lying completely. I did my job here.” He heard the healer get up.

“Wait,” Kancil said. “Where are my friends?

“They are well and resting, as you should. Don’t move around or your wounds will open again. Three or four hours should be enough to let your body recover.” With that he turned around and walked off, leaving Kancil alone with his thoughts.

After the healer left Kancil laid unmoving as he was told, but he kept trying to open his eye. The light even caused him discomfort through his eyelid, but as more time passed his eye got more used to it. Somewhere between one and two hours after, he could open his eye, though he had to close it after a short time. He tried his best to look around and glance at the surface. He couldn’t help but want to see it again after so much time down there. What he saw was not that different from what was in the hole.

Ruins everywhere. Burnt wood and broken stone filled his sight, and the smell of rot and death remained the same. It was as if God's ire hit the city with all its might. Although in hindsight, it was indeed caused by the gods—not by their ire, but by their sadism.

What did he expect? If after so much time no one had sent an army to clean the hole, then it was obvious that the situation of the city could not be much better. Seeing his home in such state brought him surprise and disappointment, but no sadness or anger. Not after all that had happened to him there.

Now that he was out of that literal shit-hole, the question surfaced again. Where do I belong?

Around an hour after he fell good enough to sit. The healer had said two or three hours, but he was sure he knew the state of his body better.

He began looking around, inspecting his surroundings. He had to keep his gaze low and shield it with his hands, but now his eye didn’t hurt so much.

There was little more than rubble and patrolling legionnaires to look at. There was also a huge hole in the ground, probably what was previously the entrance to the sewers that had imprisoned him and his friends for so much time.

He turned his head to the other side and found his friends laying on a cloth mantle, still unconscious but otherwise pretty much alive.

Except for Ravi.

He dragged his body to a relatively flat boulder close to them, enduring the small spikes of pain that surged whenever he moved too fast and sat on the boulder with his head hung between his knees, making himself small to avoid attracting anyone’s attention.

Just looking at the city brought memories of what was and would not be again. All the things he lost. All the things taken from him.

He reached into his pocket and took out a small pocket watch. It had stopped working a long time ago, but just having it between his hands and pressing the small button it had at the top calmed his mind, as if his dad was near him like the day he gave it to him.

A while later he heard nearing footsteps that turned him away from his dark thoughts. He lifted his head and the sun hindered his sight again. But it did not seem that important in front of the owners of the footsteps. They all wore artifacts.

A few men and women wore extravagant armors of many colors and shapes. It looked as if they took each piece of armor from different sets and put it all together. Spiked shoulder-pads made from something similar to bones. Shining metal boots. Red scale gloves. It was too chaotic and nothing matched, even the weapons.

A man had on his back a bow made from barky wood. It was not a good idea to make a bow with such material, yet the man still carried it. Another man had a shield that looked like the carapace from an insect and a sword with unpractical spikes on its blade. All their equipment emitted a faint glow from small runes engraved on them.

He lifted his arm with the bracelet and pointed at the group; their general levels were around 20, a few of them a little higher and a few others a little lower. If they had accompanied the legionnaire boss, the poor bastard wouldn’t have struggled against Gurgh and Geth so hard.

“Hey, are you okay?” A handsome man approached looking at him with a pair of friendly golden eyes.

Speaking of the devil, it was the boss of the legionnaires and the owner of the voice that spoke earlier with the healer. He was called Attalus. He wore a normal-looking metal armor—without glowing runes—and if his earlier display was a hint of how fearsome the man was, then he had to mind his manners around him.

But the shock of the sight was too big, and he ignored the man’s question and made one of his own. “Are all those artifacts?” He pointed his finger at the group as they began moving towards the hole on the ground.

“Artifacts? No, no.” The boss shook his head. “How do I put it…” He scratched his head. “It’s a long story. And right now we’ve got to get moving…” He crossed his arms and frowned. “Let’s do this, in a few hours, after we come back from there,” He pointed at the hole with his thumb. “I’ll tell you about what has happened all this time and you can tell me how you survived in there since the gods’ day.”

“Gods’ Day…?” Kancil tilted his head for a moment. There could only be one day with such name. “Yeah…” He nodded. “But… you shouldn’t go back there.”

“And why shouldn’t we?” The boss raised an eyebrow.

“If you go too deep into the tunnels you’ll run into the orcs eventually. There are tons of them down there.”

“Orcs?” The boss looked at him with disbelief. “Demons of that caliber should be closer to the city’s core, not in the outskirts.”

“Well, the sewers are connected to the core.” Kancil said.

“Still, orcs are the main force of the demons, they shouldn’t be stationed in such a place.”

Kancil shrugged and looked down. “You should also watch out for… other things. Evil things. Worse things…” His expression grew somber as memories of the horrors down there poured back into his head.

The boss furrowed his brows, his disbelief growing. “Anyways, I’ll be on guard for that. Thanks for the information.” He nodded at him. “You and your friends stay here. All the area should be safe. I’ll leave a few legionnaires around, so if something happens, you can call for help.

“You have so many things you need to know,” He patted him on the shoulders and smiled. “The world has changed a lot since that day.” With that, he left with the weirdly dressed men and women, some of the regular legionnaires from before and a large group of men with basic equipment into the hole.

‘The world has changed a lot since that day’. He sneered in his head. Your world, at least. The only meaningful thing that changed for him was who he fought and from whom he hid, but his situation had been too similar to what it was before. He hung his head between his knees again and closed his eye, his hand fidgeting with the clock’s button.

Two hours later, the sun already approaching the horizon line, he heard the legionnaires’ footsteps stir. He saw people climbing out of the hole, the boss leading them. Most of them were covered in filth from head to toe, but he could recognize him anyway, because the man was the only one bathed in blood.

One of the legionnaires that stayed guarding took a large piece of cloth from a bag and handed it to their captain.

“Thanks.” The boss wiped his face. “We need to get moving.” He clapped his metal gauntlets to get everyone’s attention. “The boy was right; the place is infested with orcs. There might even be an ogre, but I dare not confirm it.”

Many gasps and whispers sounded among the legionnaires, but soon they began moving about as their boss commanded.

“There is an ogre.” Kancil spoke up, his voice rough and barely audible, but the shock that Attalus’ words brought caused a total silence that permitted his words to be heard. “It killed over three hundred survivors the first week we were there. It was the main cause why it took so long for anyone to escape.”

“I can believe that.” The boss nodded. “We’ll have to go back and regroup with the army.”

“What ‘bout them?” he pointed at his two friends.

The boss looked at them and then at the legionnaires. “You and you.” He pointed at two of them.

“You will carry them until we reach the caravan. Carefully.” He glared at them.

“Yes, sir.” The two men stiffened and went to the injured.

The legionnaires scurried about, packing all their stuff or cleaning themselves. In just a few moments, they gathered everything and were ready to go.

“So.” The boss approached him. “I promised that I would explain things to you, but I’d like to ask you a few things first.”

“Well,” He got up from the boulder, dusted off his rear and returned his clock to his pocket. “As long as you explain everything to me.” He shrugged.

“Of course.” The boss smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

Kancil’s face twitched at the touch, but he endured the discomfort.

The man had cleaned himself better while waiting for his men, but the smell of blood still lingered around him. The boss beckoned forward and began walking. “First of all, I’d like to know if you have-”

His words were interrupted by Kancil’s shout.

“What in fuck is that?” His mouth hung open. In the distance he could see a humongous black tower rising above the clouds, as if a black mountain had appeared in the middle of the city. The tower was ten times as tall as the first wall before being destroyed and covered at least half of the space of the city’s core.

“What? You hadn’t seen it?” The boss arched his eyebrows. “You’ve been half a day around here.”

“The sun didn’t let me look up beyond the rubble.” Kancil had to push his head almost all the way back to look at the top of the tower.

“I guess it’s normal after all the time you spent inside the dark tunnels.” He said. “That dungeon is one of the things that Gods’ Day brought along. But it is a long story, let’s leave it for later. First answer my question, okay?”

“Mm-hm.” He nodded, still looking up at the tower.

“As I was saying. Have you heard about a boy called Brencis?”

Kancil stopped and moved his gaze towards the boss.

Brencis. He didn’t think that the first thing he asked would be about him. The name brought a sour feeling, and he felt his mouth dry when he thought about even pronouncing the name. His left shoulder flared up in pain when his mind began to recall all his memories about him. “What about him?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to know what you know about him.” The boss shrugged.

“Well…” He paused for a moment, thinking about what to say. “I heard he was a talented brat. Got a high core and all that.”

“Is that all you know of him? Anything else?”

“I heard he was a shy boy, always following the older kids in the training camp. But that’s all I can remember, didn’t know him personally.”

“Hmm, is that so?” The boss eyed him suspiciously for a moment.

“So… what’s been of the genius? He survived the day?”

“Survived?” The boss let out a laugh. “The boy’s living the big life right now.”