Chapter 13: XCVII — The Forgotten Soldier

  [Objective: Survive the Forgotten Soldier for 5 Seconds.]

  The Golem was raising its sword slowly, a broad, massive thing that seemed to carry the weight of the world upon it. And then it was bringing it down.

  Shit! Kayode and Clarke ran in the same direction, racing behind the pews—but the sword slammed into the earth before they could make it halfway.

  The world detonated behind them.

  The shockwave blasted Kayode off his feet, hurled him through the air, and smashed him down onto the marble floor. He bounced, rolled, skidded—only stopping when he hit the wall hard enough to send him rebounding again and sliding back the other way.

  He came to, coughing, head ringing, and body aching from all directions.

  The Golem’s eyes swept the chamber, searching for Kayode and Clarke.

  Kayode stood behind the pews—thrown there by the blast—back pressed flat along the length of a shattered bench, barely daring to breathe.

  Clarke was in very much the same position, practically stuck to the pew across from Kayode’s.

  [Objective: Survive the Forgotten Soldier for 4 Seconds.]

  Ancestors, time was passing so fucking slowly. Apparently a high level and Tier had their drawbacks.

  “Where are you, enemies of the Great?” the Golem bellowed, its voice cracking with something close to desperation. “Offer me your souls, that I might cleanse my own!”

  It took a step forward, and the ground threw Kayode off his feet. Another—and dust cascaded from the ceiling.

  This thing was less an enemy, and more a walking, talking force of nature. Could ten Kayode’s defeat it? Twenty? He didn’t even want to think of what this thing’s Awakening was. It would only unbalance him even further.

  [Objective: Survive the Forgotten Soldier for 3 Seconds.]

  “I am Oathguard Lord Ser Nwoye Edric Ugochukwu,” the golem bellowed. “You will name your place.”

  Kayode felt a panic wash over him, an opening of his jaws, and then—nothing.

  [Skill: Compelled Disclosure — Negated by Vessel of Stone II.]

  Kayode could not have been any more thankful for his Class in that moment.

  “We are here!” Clarke screamed.

  Kayode turned sharply, and saw the man staring down at his own mouth, eyes wide with shock, as if the words had been torn from him by some unseen force. Because they had.

  “This Oathguard thanks you for your honesty!” it bellowed. And lifted that terrible sword once more.

  Kayode ran as fast as his legs would carry him. The blast caught him anyway, hurling him off his feet and high into the air. He hit hard, bounced, rolled.

  And heard the weapon coming again.

  He threw himself aside just in time. The blade tore through the ground where he’d been—missed his body, but not entirely.

  It caught his arm.

  There was a wet, final resistance, then nothing—his limb severed in a spray of misting red as it spun away across the stone.

  He wanted to scream. He knew better.

  [Objective: Survive the Forgotten Soldier for 2 Seconds.]

  Kayode stumbled behind the fallen book and collapsed there, clutching desperately at the wet stump where his arm had been. The world narrowed to red—pain and heat and burning that drowned out everything else. With a hand, he tore a strip from his undershirt and cinched it tight around the stump.“Ngh—fuck!” he hissed. The pain swallowed him whole, and he passed out, coming to an instant later—still in the belly of the beast.

  [Objective: Survive the Forgotten Soldier for 0 Seconds.]

  The Golem’s eyes scanned the room in search of a victim and found themselves denied.

  [Objective: Escape The Chamber of The Forgotten.]

  Then, at the far end of the church, the stone wall split open, like two halves of a great door. Beyond it churned a vortex of pale white.

  A gate.

  Distant.

  But open.

  A way out.

  And Kayode desperately needed a way out.

  “No…don’t leave me,” came Clarke’s voice.

  Only then did Kayode see him—huddled behind a section of rubble.

  Sitting. Not standing.

  One leg ended just below the knee, the rest gone, replaced by a raw pit of torn flesh. Blood pooled beneath him, streaked across the stone where he had dragged himself to that spot. He looked a terrified, helpless, and pathetic thing. Anyone would have been moved to help him.

  Anyone who didn’t know Clarke, that was.

  But Kayode did, and Clarke knew he did. So the man instantly went to bribery. “I—I’m the Marq’s brother!” he hissed. “I…I know things…things he wouldn’t want a Great Noble like you to.”

  Kayode searched for deception in the desperate man’s eyes, and though he severely wanted to, he didn't find any. Dirt on Okechukwu was important—not worth losing a life over. But certainly worth risking a one-armed Loop for.

  “I am Oathguard Lord Ser Nwoye Edric Ugochukwu,” the golem began. “You will name your place.”

  Kayode cursed.

  “We’re here!” Clarke screamed—and went deathly pale a heartbeat later.

  Kayode was already moving.

  He barreled into Clarke back-first, knocking him flat, then twisted as he fell, rolling them both across the stone. Kayode came up on his knees with Clarke sprawled across his back, the man’s good leg dragging uselessly.

  “Hold on!” Kayode snapped.

  Clarke didn’t hesitate. He locked an arm around Kayode’s neck and clung there, breathing desperate, weight uneven.

  Kayode lurched to his feet and ran for the exit.

  The sword came down and he dove right before impact.

  The momentum hurled Kayode into the air again, and he decided he wasn’t landing in a heap this time.

  “We’re going to die, we’re going to die, we’re going to die!” Clarke cried.

  “Frost Guard!” Kayode roared.

  The shield of ice bloomed beneath his feet. He hit it sliding, skimming across the stone as the structure screamed under the strain—whizzing faster and faster toward the exit.

  It shattered an instant later, and Kayode turned that momentum into a sprint.

  Almost there, almost there, almost there.

  Kayode reached a hand out at the swirling gate.

  The sword slammed down beside him, blasting Kayode off his feet and into the air.

  Clarke was ripped from his back and hurled away, spinning wildly toward the portal. He vanished into the white with a panicked cry.

  Free.

  Kayode hit the ground hard, alone on the stone.

  I just can’t have things easy, can I?

  He coughed, felt the pain surge up hard enough to steal his breath, and forced himself back to his feet. The Golem was coming again—slow but unstoppable—and it would reach him long before he ever touched the gate.

  So Kayode chose a different target.

  He would reach the Forgotten Soldier first.

  The Golem charged. As it raised its blade to strike, Kayode splayed his hand.

  “Winter’s Teeth!”

  The chain shot forward, coiling around the golem’s rising arm—and yanked Kayode off the ground with it, hauling him upward. He slammed feet first into the ceiling just as the chain shattered.

  Kayode kicked off the stone and dropped.

  He brought his blade down with everything he had, straight toward the Gemstone.

  Edge-Spark!

  His sword shattered, and the Gemstone got away with just a scratch. But Kayode knew that had been a longshot anyways. It was not his true reason for coming up here.

  The Golem’s palm swept in, trying to swat him like a fly.

  Kayode leapt onto its shoulder—slipped, rolled, nearly fell—and caught himself through sheer desperation, fingers digging into stone. If he’d been a luckier man, the Golem might have shattered its own Gemstone bringing that much force down so close to it. But he wasn’t lucky—and he doubted it was stupid enough to strike its own weak point.

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  A massive hand came down at him again.

  Kayode jumped.

  “Winter’s Teeth!”

  The chain snapped tight around the golem’s neck and yanked him sideways, swinging him onto the creature’s opposite shoulder a heartbeat later.

  “You think this some sort of game?” the Golem thundered. “That you might best me through sheer annoyance?!”

  “Maybe!” Kayode grunted, dodging another crushing blow and hurling himself across the giant’s form once more.

  More swats followed. Kayode jumped, leapt, swung—never staying still long enough to be crushed.

  He didn’t just hear the frustration in the way the Golem cursed his name, or see it in the growing violence of its strikes. He felt it—in the way its movements lost their measured weight, in how stone limbs lashed with something close to organic rage.

  Kayode leapt and leapt again, letting the rage build, the frustration boil over.

  Then he was on its nose.

  “You dare insult a servant of House Okafor!” the golem bellowed, and its fist crashed down on its own face.

  The blow wasn’t enough to cause lasting damage. But it was heavy. Wild. Enough to throw the giant—big as it was—off balance.

  Stone groaned as the creature tipped, momentum carrying it forward.

  And then it was falling, crashing down toward the earth.

  Kayode hung on tight, and still got the wind knocked out of him when he landed. If he’d taken that impact at level 1, it would’ve broken more bones than it left intact. Without a Class at all, he’d have been a smear on the ground.

  “Argh!” he cursed at his modest injuries. But he was sprinting for the exit a moment later—limping really, as he had damaged more than a few things just with that landing alone.

  “Get back here, you dishonorable, scum!” The Oathguard roared.

  Kayode turned to see it still on the ground, though with a large hand reaching out for him.

  He limped faster, wincing harder for the trouble it caused.

  Come on, come on, come on!

  He was nearly there. He felt the hand’s shadow above him.

  Run, damn you!

  He was nearly there. He heard the hand coming down.

  He was nearly there. He felt the nails of the golem brush against the hairs of his neck, and—

  Kayode leapt through the portal.

  He hit sand and rock a heartbeat later—and had never been more grateful. Behind him, the swirling gate of white was already shrinking. Kayode lay there, waiting—expecting a stone arm to burst through, to drag him back. When nothing came, when the portal continued to shrink, his strength finally gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, panting. “Fuck,” he breathed, and very nearly passed out from the sheer relief of it.

  He turned and saw Clarke on the ground ahead of him, trying and failing to climb atop his new sandstrider with one leg.

  Kayode pushed himself up to his feet with perhaps the most pain-filled groan he had ever let out. He walked over to Clarke and dragged him onto his one foot.

  The man looked surprised to see that he was still alive, and not particularly pleased by the fact. “Y—you!” he said, startled.

  “Me,” Kayode snarled. “Now tell me everything you know about Okechukwu.”

  Clarke’s eyes narrowed, hard now that Kayode did not have a Giant Stone Golem to hold above his head. “I would never—”

  Sovereign’s Presence.

  Terror killed his words and turned them into croaks. The man was sweating now, even more profusely than he already was. “L—listen. All I know is that Okechukwu is planning something that would tank his support amongst the older nobles of his court.”

  “And that is?” Kayode shook the idiot.

  “Savagers!” Clarke answered, desperately. “He’s been in talks with Savagers!”

  The Northern nations. Yes, it made sense that Okechukwu would lose quite a good number of supporters if it was revealed he was in any way colluding with them. Velúndé had always loathed them, mostly for unfair reasons but that didn’t exactly matter when the unfair people were heading an empire. “About what?” Kayode pressed.

  Clarke shook his head nervously, and there was a wetness between the man’s legs now. “I don’t know…I truly do not know! I swear it on the Ancestors! All I know is that it was important enough for him to give me enough money to found the Red Falcons, just so I don’t tell Duke Ekwueme—our brother—the truth.”

  Kayode’s eyes narrowed.

  “I promise you, I’m telling you the truth!” Clarke stressed.

  “I know.” And Kayode wrapped a hand around his throat, and began dragging him towards the portal.

  “N—no!” Clarke screamed. Struggling feebly, weakly, and ultimately ineffectually. “Please! I can help you! I’ll stay close to Okechukwu! I’ll feed you information! I’ll—I’ll—”

  Kayode shoved him towards the Gate, and the man went hopping backwards.

  “Please!” he sobbed, voice cracking, frantic, desperate. “Plea—” And Clarke fell through the portal and into the stone giant’s lair.

  [You have slain a Sword Bound of the 2nd Awakening.]

  Always happy to assist.

  And then the portal closed.

  [You have completed White Dungeon: Chamber of the Forgotten.]

  [—Level 11—]

  [—Level 12—]

  [—Level 13—]

  [—Skill(s) Acquired—]

  [Feat Skill ? Golem Bane — I — Passive : You have bested the White Dungeon, the Chamber of the Forgotten. You deal 20% increased damage to Golems and their associated Gemstones.]

  [Feat Skill ? Petrify — I — Active: Despite being vastly outmatched, you have bested the White Dungeon, the Chamber of the Forgotten and done so impressively. You may harden your body into living stone, massively increasing your durability. While Petrified, you cannot move, see, or act, but gain extreme resistance to Physical and Elemental damage. The Skill ends when you release it, or when the stone fractures under sustained damage.]

  [Learned Skill ? Ice Hide — II — Passive: The cold always bites. When your shield shatters, the ice fragments detonate outward with violent force, lacerating and piercing all enemies in close proximity to the point of impact.]

  [Class Skill ? Vessel of Stone — III — Passive: Tools of dust and brews shall not end your Loops. You are highly resistant to poison effects and poison-based skills.]

  [Class Skill ? Allies of the Crown — I — Passive: A King improves the substance of those around him. Close Allies within your vicinity gain a noticeable increase to growth and learning speed. When a Close Ally achieves an achievement, you gain Experience.]

  [Class Skill ? Royal Decree — I — Active: Your word is law. Those deemed beneath you by a gulf of 10 levels or more shall find resistance impossible, their will bent to a single simple command without regard for motive or allegiance.]

  Kayode looked at the stream of System Notifications that came in, and found himself too tired to take it all in. He tried regardless, and it seemed that was just one bit of effort too far.

  I’d rather get back home first…

  His head spun, his legs gave out underneath him, and he was mid tipping over to the side when his vision went black and he passed out.

  ###

  Kayode expected to wake in the night, on the ground, feeling his body scream. And while he had woken up at night—judging based on the moon that was currently looking down at him—it was not on the earth. As he shouldn’t be able to feel it move underneath him.

  He pushed himself up on his good arm—his only arm now—and found himself on a Sandstrider. Clarke’s sandtrider. On its own, it carried him forwards, ahead towards Ezeria.

  How?

  [Class Skill ? Mount — I — Passive: You can ride any steed with at least a Master’s level of proficiency. The beasts are at ease in your presence, and behave like an extension of your will.]

  The last thing he had thought of was getting back to Ezeria.

  That was…impressive.

  The beast continued to carry him, and Kayode, awake now, had no choice but to sit with his thoughts.

  He thought of the dead Falcons, how easily it could have all been avoided, how needless the bloodshed was. Killing Clarke hadn’t fixed anything, though it certainly left a better taste in his mouth than he would have had otherwise. But still, the men were dead. And Kayode—the man with a hundred lives—was the one that survived.

  They’ll be back in my next loop, Kayode told himself—however long that will take. Now that he was not just at but beyond level 10 and now onto his Second Awakening, Kayode would be hunting by himself, and he had no plans of doing anything even half as risky as Clarke had.

  The Second Awakening was not exactly a rare achievement in the circles Kayode had grown up in, but for people without their own noble family providing expensive and time-consuming opportunities to Level, it was quite the accomplishment. A career soldier of ten years would be expected to settle somewhere in the midpoint between levels 20 and 25.

  And in all likelihood, that career soldier would be boasting a Tier D or, at best, C Class. A full four or five ranks below Kayode’s own.

  I’m as powerful as a veteran.

  He would hunt steadily, and hunt well.

  After a silent trek through Ezeria—earning a good many stares for being a beaten, bruised and haggard one-armed man, Kayode found himself at the gates of Marcholt Uloma, Lami standing at the door up ahead.

  The guards opened the gates, and Kayode kept riding , through the carriageroad, and then he was in front of Lami who looked almost pale at the sight of him.

  Kayode slid down from the beast. “I’m fine,” he reassured her. “Just lost an arm.”

  She said nothing.

  And that was when Kayode knew something was wrong.

  The guards had opened the gates, but said nothing to him. No call for a Healer, not even a flicker of concern for his well-being. They only watched him with cold, hard eyes as he passed. Kayode was so exhausted he hadn’t even noticed. Until now.

  The door behind her opened, and Okechukwu emerged—his expression set like stone, though his body told a different story. He was a haggard thing: face beaten and bruised, a cheek split open, teeth missing. His armor still hung from him, but it was mangled now, twisted and melted in places, his cape burned black along the edges.

  “There you are,” he hissed, and the man looked more unbalanced than Kayode had ever seen him.

  Kayode’s eyes flicked to Lami. She averted her gaze.

  Had she told him?

  Had she—

  “The information you gave us was wrong,” Okechukwu snarled.

  Kayode blinked. “How?”

  “How?” Okechukwu snapped. “You tell me. Where did you get it from? Who told you?”

  Kayode’s heart began to race.

  “You told me I was correct,” Kayode said carefully. “You told me it was accurate—down to the troop numbers, down to the command structure.”

  “Yes. And I believed it too.” Okechukwu’s eyes unfocused, drawn to a memory not far removed. “Ten thousand men. All marching on Nalefan. So I convinced Duke Adegbite to commit fully—to crush them in one decisive strike. They would be downhill. We would take the high ground.”

  He laughed once, bitter and hollow.

  “When the day came, we charged. They were exactly where you said they would be.”

  “Then what’s the problem?” Kayode pressed, dread curling in his gut.

  “They died,” Okechukwu said flatly. “They died like flies under our boots. And while Adegbite’s men celebrated, I knew something was wrong.”

  His jaw tightened.

  “We lost barely five percent. Barely. Because we weren’t fighting an army—we were slaughtering bait. Men dressed in elite colours, sent to die so we would be drawn in.”

  Kayode’s heart dropped.

  “The Grand Duke’s real force came from the sea,” Okechukwu spat. “Disguised as merchants. They took Nalefan while we were gone—overran it completely. By the time we realized and tried to strike at them… the Duke and I barely escaped with our lives.” His voice broke, just slightly. “But not his daughter. She didn’t escape.”

  The silence stretched.

  “And Duke Adegbite,” Okechukwu continued, voice hardening again, “was willing to pay anything to secure her safety. Including changing his vote.”

  He met Kayode’s eyes.

  “A vote I have now lost.” Okechukwu dropped that last part like a gavel.

  “Now, I’ll ask you again…wheere did you get that information?” Okechukwu hissed, fingers curled and tight.

  Kayode couldn’t say how. He’d gotten the information from him—Okechukwu himself, in a past Loop.

  It had been Okechukwu who first spoke of the Grand Duke’s book. All Kayode had done was decipher it, peel back the secrets it claimed to hold. Secrets he’d trusted only because of the import Okechukwu had placed on it.

  But what if that trust had been misplaced?

  What if the book had been planted from the start—meant to be stolen, meant to be read, meant to mislead? A gift left deliberately within reach, its lies dressed in just enough truth to damn anyone foolish enough to act on them.

  And what if the Grand Duke had never been outplayed at all?

  Kayode would have laughed. If it weren’t so damn unfunny.

  “You know what?” Okechukwu whispered, his voice edged and cold. “It doesn’t matter. Either you deceived me deliberately, or you’re too incompetent to be trusted with anything of consequence.” He stepped closer. “Either way, I have no further use for you.”

  He was walking toward Kayode now. There was nowhere to retreat.

  “We could still use his vote,” Lami said from behind him, cautious but firm.

  “I’ll find another,” Okechukwu snarled. “A bastard. A distant cousin. Someone.”

  He was wrong. The Grand Duke would find one faster—and the law would move more swiftly to legitimise his choice than Okechukwu’s. But the Marquess was beyond reasoning now.

  Lami tried no further.

  Kayode did. “I—”

  “Don’t you dare say a word!” Okechukwu appeared in front of him, like there’d been no space separating them, and Kayode’s neck was in the man’s tight hands.

  Kayode kicked his feet as the Marquess lifted him up in the air and then the pressure began to intensify.

  His head was pounding, burning, heavy, hot, painful.

  Kayode punched and kicked, and spat, but no means of attack worked more than the other.

  Okechukwu kept glaring, Kayode kept spluttering, Lami kept silent.

  The world was dull now, his vision fading.

  “You’re useless…” Okechukwu snarled. “Just like your father.”

  And Kayode’s world went dark.

  ###

  [Loopforged: You have 96 Loops remaining.]

  Kayode came to gasping and coughing onto his knees.

  He felt his neck for those steely fingers gripping it tight, and found nothing, of course

  He looked for his room and saw only greenery wherever he turned.

  [Class Skill ? Loopforged — II — Active: Once per Loop, you may designate your current physical location as your spawn point.]

  He’d almost forgotten.

  He used the Skill when he entered the forest to go Goblin hunting in the last Loop.

  He was in the outskirts of Asoburgh’s woods. It did not change the time in which he appeared, so right about now Henry would likely be knocking on the door, awaiting Kayode’s arrival.

  He took a step towards the palace and caught himself.

  What was he looking for there?

  He had tried to play their games and gotten himself killed, several times. He couldn’t win, at least not now—as weak as he was—and he was sick and tired of losing.

  That was why he had placed the Spawn Point here in the first place. Just in case his bid with Okechukwu didn’t work out. And it hadn’t. It had failed catastrophically, and even now Kayode had less information on the Grand Duke than he did before.

  No.

  He had freed himself of their shackles, so why would he lock them around himself once again.

  Kayode turned around, and headed deeper into the woods, leaving Palace Asoburgh and its many monsters behind.

  A.C. here!

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