CHAPTER 13: Battle in the Depths - Part 3

  Satisfaction from landing a solid blow relaxed his neck muscles. More so as the youth sat, half-slumped, beside a dark tunnel.

  He did not rush in, wanting to savor his opponent's helplessness. The youth could not stand, his chest heaving. His usually neat hair was now a mess, and Varne bet it would match well with a messed-up face.

  However, without warning, a monster with an elongated body snapped out from the dark tunnel beside Varne. He dodged its bite by leaping back. The monster's metal teeth sparked fire before disappearing back into its lair.

  “That's what I've been getting at,” the youth said, now in a different spot. Varne cursed again, realizing the youth had only pretended to lure him closer. “Listen.”

  As Varne concentrated, the sound of the monster's scales scraping against the tunnel walls echoed from every corner, like a serpent slithering through dry leaves. He retreated, keeping an eye on the youth and the surrounding holes.

  “This mining area was abandoned because monsters made their nest here,” the youth's head turned following the rustling sounds. “Monster Hunters were supposed to handle it, but they bailed, scared of the Terzionite invasion. So, I'm the one cleaning up their mess.”

  Varne spun around at the sound of rustling behind him. A monster with an open mouth was ready to pounce, but upon being spotted, it slowly withdrew to the hole. Dozens of blue eyes around its mouth shrank and disappeared.

  “I was going to pick them off one by one,” the youth continued. “But since they're up now, why don't we team up and take them down together?”

  “Let us be clear on this. You asked for my help, not the other way around.”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  As the monsters attacked together from within the tunnel, the youth danced his whip, wrapping himself in a cage of lashes. He lengthened or shortened the whip and directed his attacks using Prana.

  The whip's lash was ineffective against the monster's scales, but when the youth switched to stabbing, the scales yielded to penetration. He thrust many times over from various angles, so that although each wound was small, the monsters eventually died, drenched in their own blood.

  Varne, unarmed, relied on Ruin Fist to batter the enemies. It hurt the monsters. They screeched and retreated into their holes. However, they soon reappeared as if nothing had happened, thanks to their high resistance to blunt force.

  A Prana technique did not always need to be executed with full strength. Varne used only half of Ruin Fist's maximum power, but he started running out of Prana. He had not killed a single monster, while the youth's tally continued to grow.

  He was reluctant to depend on Arcanzite, but in battle he had to use everything at his disposal. Arcanzite lightning wrapped around his left hand, and with four fingers together, he pierced the monster's scales, scorching it from within. The monster shrieked, its body convulsed and died. First score.

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  Fighting together, they eliminated the monsters without much trouble. However, one thing annoyed him – the youth had one more kill. He felt like punching the youth to even the score.

  The youth stored his whip and sighed. “What? You want to keep fighting? Nah, I’ll pass. I've got bigger fish to fry than figuring out who's the strongest. Just keep the Lorith and let me go. It's better for everyone, right? Besides, it’s almost evening–”

  “Evening?” Varne remembered the captain's deadline. “This is your lucky day.”

  Varne grabbed the torch from the torch holder and hurried out of the room. He searched for an exit like a drowning man seeking air. But since he had entered the mine without much thought, he got lost within a few turns.

  “Here!” the youth called from the other end of the corridor. If there were any other option, he would not have followed him. But catching the ship was more pressing than anything.

  Stars peppered the sky by the time he emerged outside. His jaw clenched at the thought of the ship leaving without him.

  The youth had short black hair combed to one side. Stretching his arms above his head, he said, “I'm Rycerval Siordis, usually called Ryse. What's yours?”

  No time for pleasantries. He ran towards Parfal, leaving the meddlesome youth behind.

  On the dock, he could only stand petrified upon discovering the ship had already departed. The port was still bustling at night, rows of torches exuding the scent of pine resin.

  “Why the rush? I wasn’t done talking yet.”

  Varne turned. That youth again! He had been running using Blast Rush, taking dangerous shortcuts, and this youth managed to follow him?

  “It's your damn fault I missed the ship!”

  The youth was taken aback for a moment, then said, “Sorry, I didn't know.”

  Despite the oddity, his apology seemed sincere. Varne snorted.

  “If you want to talk about your problems, I might have some solutions. Think of it like making things right.”

  There was no harm in it. He recounted how the captain had offered him a place on the ship.

  “That captain knew about the monsters in the mine and still sent you, probably hoping you wouldn't make it. So, don't sweat being late; he didn't really want you with him in the first place.”

  “That bastard! Just wait when I see him again!”

  “But you're in luck. I'm in a hurry to get to the mainland too. I was just finishing up the job there in exchange for a spot on that ship,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder.

  “I'll put in a good word for you as well, considering you've... uh, been a real help. Wait at the inn with three chimneys. Say you're my friend, and you might score a discount.”

  Varne clicked his tongue. He disliked relying on others' kindness. But there was nothing to do except wait. And there was no harm in resting either. He had not slept under a roof in the five days it took to reach Parfal.

  At the inn, he bathed, ate, and slept. He managed to steal a few hours before a servant knocked on his door to tell him that master Ryse was waiting.

  Ryse was drinking with the innkeeper and some others in the lobby. His legs propped up on the table, his left hand holding the largest tankard Varne had ever seen. He waved a pair of tickets when he saw him.

  “Then let's go.”

  “Never been on a ship before? Departure times can be a bit unpredictable, depending on the wind and such. They'll ring a bell when it's time. It's no coincidence this inn is close to the harbor. So, how about you join us for a drink?”

  “I can't relax like you.”

  “I told you, I also need to head east soon. But rushing won't change the things we can't control. Waiter, get my new friend a drink!”

  Varne sat apart. Sipping his drink, he peeked at Ryse through the rim of the tankard. Ryse could always find a topic to talk about with anyone, and he could make any topic interesting.

  He had not finished his first drink when the departure bell rang. Ryse stood up and hugged the innkeeper and his friends.

  “He's my friend,” Ryse told the innkeeper, “he gets a discount, right?”

  “Are you the friend of my savior?” the innkeeper asked.

  “No.” He paid ten bronze coins and left. They set off for the docks in the early hours.

  Varne's wide steps crossed the plank to the ship's deck in three strides. Up close, the ship was not as robust as he had imagined. Its hull was full of patches, as were its sails.

  “By the way,” Ryse said on deck, “what's your name again?”