Author's Nightmare: Chapter 128 (Patreon)

Shango POV: Day 104

Current Wealth: 222 gold 0 silver 37 copper

So, Beam lost. No surprise there. We’d all been waiting for it to happen, it had been where the day’s generally grim tone had come from. Each of us had headed out of the house to see our friend fight an unwinnable fight, and then inevitably lose. The only reason we’d even sent him out had been the King’s general reputation for decency and honour. Had we thought he might cut him in half after or during his victory, we’d not have even humoured a course of action besides forfeiture.

That said, Beam had done a lot better than any of us even imagined. And I’d caught his entire performance with the best vision around.

[Appraisal]

• Class: Dragonlord

• Level: 22

• Condition: The Dragon

• Modifiers: +13 Strength, +13 Speed, +15 Toughness, +14 Alertness

• Statistics: Strength 22, Speed 22, Dexterity 8, Stamina 9, Toughness 22, Alertness 22, Charisma 6, Intelligence 5

• Inventory: Local wear, plate armour, rapier

• Class abilities: Beloved III

• Current Experience Points: 306/640

• Unspent Skillpoints: 0

He’d been a monster. Every bit Arthur’s equal, physically. And with his natural advantages of ethereal armour and weaponry to boot.

That, and the way he’d fought. Not just dextrous, not just skilled- and he was, of course, both. It was the unrelentingness of him. Like some wild animal, or a homed in attack dog. We had plenty of chances to examine Beam as we carried him out of the arena, and I could see first-hand he’d taken some serious wounds even outside the one that knocked him out. 

His visor was absolutely mangled, steel caved in almost into his skull. The King’s glancing slice had cut his shoulder down to the bone, and everywhere we stripped the plate away from his flesh revealed more bruises and scrapes underneath. Even standing with injuries like that would have been impressive. Fighting?

Fighting through them, that was something inhuman. 

But Beam wasn’t in that state now, I checked as much myself. 

[Appraisal]

• Class: Dragonlord

• Level: 22

• Condition: Unconscious

• Modifiers: +8 Strength, +8 Speed, +10 Toughness, +9 Alertness

• Statistics: Strength 17(14), Speed 17(13), Dexterity 8, Stamina 9(4), Toughness 17, Alertness 17(15), Charisma 6, Intelligence 5

• Inventory: Local wear, plate armour, rapier

• Class abilities: Beloved III

• Current Experience Points: 306/640

• Unspent Skillpoints: 0

There’d been a time when I would have soyjacked at seventeens across the board, but it was just that sort of day. Besides, the poor guy didn’t have seventeens now.

We had Corvan ready with his magic healing stuff, but there was really only so much to do. He was still slightly weary from the day before, and Beam really had taken a lot of damage. He woke up, at least, but Corvan wasn’t skittish about the results.

“He won’t be fighting anytime soon.” He grunted. “He’ll be healing for at least another few weeks.”

Well, that was better than decomposing for a few weeks, so I decided I’d take it. 

Beam was thankfully up without any great delay, which was particularly good given we actually didn’t have much diagnostic ability when it came to human brains. His return to consciousness was abrupt, blunt and awkward. Lots of quick convulsions as his limbs took a moment to realise they weren’t still fighting. We all stood around him, watching to ensure nothing was wrong, which probably didn’t do anything for his nerves, but at least left us conveniently placed for a few questions on his part.

“Did I win?”

We couldn’t help ourselves, it was just such a Beam thing to ask. Every single one of us burst out laughing.

“You drew a bit of blood.” I said at last, seeing that Beam was now scowling after apparently working out he’d not had such a great performance. “A damn sight better than anyone else, but…You don’t remember it?”

With the manic relief of seeing him alive and cognisant running out, that was the next big concern. Beam hadn’t fought like a man disconnected from what he was doing. A black-out like this…That was concerning.

He certainly seemed concerned too, because I saw his face tighten with thought. 

“I…No, I do. Bits and pieces. And everything up to the minute mark, or thereabouts. But not…Not everything.”

This smelled like a “later” problem, to me. 

While Beam was getting updated on the handful of things we’d done since his defeat, namely arguing loudly about what to try and spend our new money on, I headed off to see Phelia. I still felt that knot in my stomach as I did. 

It had been my fault, what happened to her with Solitaire. And while she’d put us all at risk by withholding information…I couldn’t overlook what my friend had done. Done again. The unilateral decision on his part, all the trauma. 

She’d be without it if I’d just been a bit less easy-going. And that made me think of how many other people might still be alive or killed in less messily cruel ways.

Phelia was in the bedroom, and thankfully she had her clothes on. Reading, like always, looking up as I entered, tense. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt, in case…Something had gone wrong.” She said quickly. “Your brother, is he…?”

“Alive.” I smiled, actually having worried for a moment at the concern on her face. “Beam’s fine. He actually drew a bit of blood from the King before going down.”

Phelia’s stare was almost like a child’s; pure, undiluted awe. 

“That’s…Unprecedented?” I guessed.

“Not quite.” She conceded. “But almost. Only one other has managed it, and he’s been competing here for over a decade. Your brother must be very strong indeed…” Her voice grew edged, slightly. Fuck. Woman-deciphering mode. 

Phelia was pissed, but not about anything she felt confident in confronting me on. Clearly this was important enough to be hinted at so soon after the more serious topic, but not immediately vital given that she was skirting around it.

I didn’t take long to narrow things down. 

“You’ve noticed how our power improves with time.” I guessed.

“I have.” Phelia replied. “Care to explain that?”

It was a good question. Did I? I wasn’t sure. Phelia was family, technically, kind of. But that didn’t mean she enjoyed our full trust. I’d protect her the same way I would anyone else- because people being hurt was bad- and I had to admit I’d come to enjoy her company somewhat. The fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous and regularly had sex with me had nothing to do with that at all, I assure you. 

Still, did I want to explain?

She’d already lied once, by omission, albeit for fairly understandable reasons of needing to secure a place in our family. Might she betray us again?

Perhaps, but it would be a lot more likely to be betrayed if I evaded, or lied and got seen through. Phelia’s last deception had come when she thought she had to for self-preservation, keeping her informed and feeling like she had my confidence seemed like the best way to prevent another. 

“My brothers and I are unique.” I said at last. “Completely, in how we gain power particularly. We don’t do it by just training and working hard like others do.”

Nodding, Phelia frowned at that, rearranging information in her head to see if it fit with what I was saying. The smart thing to do, of course. 

“What do you do, then?” She asked. “Defeat enemies?”

“Good guess, but not quite. Mostly we seem to…Accomplish goals. The harder, the riskier, the more power. We seem to be able to get a bit by beating magical enemies, too, but for the most part it comes from accomplishments.”

Phelia took barely a heartbeat to process everything.

“So, when we set up the deal with Wilskasai…?”

“Yes.” I confirmed. “I became a bit more powerful from that.”

Phelia shivered, drawing the next smart conclusion, her lip curling as she voiced it.

“And Solitaire is making progress on bypassing that technological gap he’s been struggling with…”

Which meant another truck load for him. Fair enough for her to be worried, though I still wasn’t. I knew he wouldn’t turn against me, at least. That was perhaps all I could say for the bastard, but I could say it nonetheless. 

“We need him.” I assured her. “And besides, I don’t see him reaching Beam’s level now, do you?”

We hadn’t even tested Beam’s level, but I was fairly sure we’d be looking at close to a tonne for the bench press at least. His stats weren’t that far from Aja the Pithound anymore. 

And that was to say nothing of his new ability, that berserker state made him a physical equal of Arthur. It was hard to imagine much withstanding us, now. Not with someone like that on our side. The two of them could’ve slaughtered the rest of us all at once. 

Phelia only nodded stiffly.

“I understand.” She sighed. “Just…Control him, please?”

A request, not an order. She was too smart to think she had any real duty binding me, even if our names were tied together now. 

“I will.” I promised. Binding myself anyway.