Dokeshi March: Chapter 52 (Patreon)

Chapter 52

After a few minutes of just sitting in the dark, Grant decided to try it again.  Even though he couldn’t see the mechanism anymore, he knew it was there.  It was thankfully enough for the spell to continue to work.  At least, the spell fired, and Grant continually got warning messages, so he guessed it was still working.  There were no visible changes, but he wasn’t exactly flush with options at the moment.  He had enough mana to use the spell three times back-to-back, but after that he had to take a thirty second break to allow his mana to regenerate.

“Sarge, why does my stat sheet say I regenerate two point eight mana per second, but it is taking me thirty seconds to regenerate all of my mana.”

<That’s because your sheet is only showing you the maximum potential your mana can refill.  It doesn’t take into account your true condition.>

“And what is my true condition?”  Grant knew he could just look at his stat sheet to see for himself, but he was focused on using his spells the second they became available.

<You are hungry, dehydrated, and exhausted.>  They didn’t say anything for a few minutes.  <The good news is, this is steadily increasing your mental cultivation.>

For some reason, that struck Grant as extremely funny, and he started laughing.  Before long, Sarge joined in, and the two of them were cackling like a couple of hens.

“Tell me, what could possibly be so funny?”  Grant ignored the voice of the most recent Vassal that had come to ensure he wasn’t getting any sleep.  “What could you possibly know that is so funny that a person in your situation could laugh?”

“I was just thinking of the stories they will tell about your death.”  The Vassal didn’t know what to say to such an outlandish claim.  “My guess is they will shudder in revulsion at a man being cut in half, but some might find it as funny as I do.”

“Well, I think he finally cracked.  It’s only a matter of time now.”  The Vassal was speaking to someone farther down the hallway.  “I’m surprised, since the other one is still holding out.”

<Don’t react.  If he thinks you are losing your mental faculties, they might lower their guard even more.>

Grant fought down the urge to stab the Vassal through the small opening in his wall, and continued using his spell on the hidden mechanism instead.  It was harder than it should have been.  Maybe he wasn’t quite as mentally sound as he thought.

More time passed, and Grant got lost in the pattern of casting spells three times, waiting, and repeating it all over again.  His recharge time was slowly getting worse, meaning his physical condition was definitely not improving.

He was hungry, thirsty, tired, and weak.  The thought of eating the single food bar in his pouch was tempting one, but Grant knew the dry food would only make his thirst worse.  Remembering how they refused to break apart in the pot of water, he couldn’t hold in the shudder that passed through his body.  It would definitely hasten his death by dehydration if he ate that thing.

<Grant, I heard something.>

“What, another Vassal coming to offer me an unspecified amount of food and water for information on how to restart the food shipments?”  Grant was surprised by the volume of his own voice.  It was shockingly loud in the pervasive silence of his cell.

<No, I think the wall is about to drop down again.  It coincides with the proper time of the start of the tournament, if my calculations are correct.>

Grant sprang to his feet, regretting the quick motion instantly.  He had to fight to keep from face-planting as the feeling in his legs came back with the stinging pain of pins and needles.  It was a rookie mistake to let his legs fall asleep like that, and he needed to stop acting like he was brand new at being captured.  Especially since it really wasn’t his first time.  Which made him laugh again.

They were lowering the wall so he could watch his chances of confronting Dokeshi March vanish forever, but little did they know that he had the mighty spell, Apprentice Repair!  Fear his might!

<I think you might need to sit back down for a second.>

“No, I’ll be fine Sarge.  I just need to get my bearings.”  As light started flooding into the room, Grant closed his eyes to center himself again.  His mind was fraying a bit, and he needed focus for what he was about to go through.

Opening his eyes, Grant saw the wall lowering.  Until it hit the halfway point.  Then, all of a sudden, one side of the rollers stopped working.  The door was stuck, but the crack Grant had made wasn’t visible yet!

He pulled his sword, and started pounding on the wall that hadn’t finished dropping with the hilt.  It shuddered, and Grant took a step back when a loud grinding sound started to make the floor of his cell start to shudder.

When the mechanism hidden under the floor exploded, it was powerful enough to knock Grant to his knees.  The crack he had formed was now a full spiderweb of lines that spread across most of the glass.  As he got back to his feet, he looked out over the crowds of people.  They had gathered to watch the final seven players sitting around an oval table try their luck against the ruler of their District.  There was one empty chair, and it was time he filled it.

“What is going on?”  The familiar voice of Cuddles came from the slot on the wall opposite the splintered glass.  “What happened in there?”  Grant took a moment to give the bloodshot eyes of the insane Vassal a view of him smiling before sprinting for freedom.  “Don’t you do it!  Don’t-”

Grant couldn’t hear the rest of what he was going to say, because he was falling, with the sweet sound of shattering glass - like music to his ears - accompanying him to the ground.  Shouts and screams came from the crowd, but Grant ignored them all.  In his mind, he had planned to drop down from his confinement and say something brave, or funny, or even intimidating to his enemies.

“Ouch.”  None of that happened.  His sore ankle gave out on him, and he slammed his knee on the ground.  The spectators quickly calmed down when no more humans came flying out of any windows, and a dull roar of excitement replaced their screams of fear.

<I am pretty sure they are now convinced that you are a part of some show, meant to entertain them.>  Well, no time like the present.  Grant might have messed up his landing, but the lack of Vassals in the immediate area gave him a chance to take control of the scene.

“Sorry about that folks, I was almost late to the tournament.  Thanks for waiting for me.”  Laughter rang out, even though it was obvious they hadn’t been about to start.  The Dokeshi hadn’t even come downstairs yet.

“There he is!  Get him!”  Six men dressed as clowns came storming around the corner, and Grant was quickly surrounded.  All of them had their scepters out, and a row of casino guards were closing in behind them.  He knew there was no point in fighting so many.  As they closed around him, one of the clowns pulled out a set of shackles and placed them around his wrists.  Grant didn’t raise a finger to stop them.

“Hey, that’s one of the finalists!”  A member of the crowds was pointing at Grant, who held his shackled wrists up for them all to see.  “The House is trying to cheat!  They aren’t going to let him play!”  The speaker seemed familiar to Grant, who took a moment to stare at the speaker.  He finally recognized him as one of Koshin Friday’s Vassals, dressed as a commoner.

“Yeah, the House is keeping one of the players from the table!”  Another voice rang out, and soon the uproar was more than the six Vassals could ignore.

“Enough!”  The Dokeshi finally decided to make his entrance, and Grant was surprised to hear that his voice sounded young.  It was certainly higher-pitched than he was expecting.  “This man and his compatriot have come from across the barrier of District February to incite rebellion and dissension in my District.”

The crowd was silenced by his presence.  Which was the perfect opening for Grant to step in.

“I am Lord January.”  Grant finally deactivated the potion ability that had hidden his name for all this time.  The shock on people’s faces as they saw the truth with their own eyes almost made him laugh.  Which would be bad.  “I alone decide where the excess food in January goes.”  That revelation made the Vassals holding him flinch.  “And I am Lord February.  I control the barrier between your District and the one that gives you access to that food.”  The shocked Vassals holding his arms let go of him, and Grant took the key for his shackles from the numb fingers of the clown standing next to him.  “And if you don’t release my ‘compatriot,’ I will never open the borders to allow food through the barriers into this District, and you will all starve.  And if your Dokeshi doesn’t face me in a fair and equal duel, then you will all starve.  To death.”  Grant waited for that revelation to sink in.  Grant could feel the rage building in him again, as he once again changed into the ruler that was required to pass judgement on the guilty.  “I don’t care if I have to take his scepter after you kill him, or after I do, but none of you live if he continues to draw breath.”

The silence in the building was deafening.  The crowd seemed to bend away from Grant as he turned to look at them.  The Vassals took the opportunity to scatter, and he could feel his chest swelling with pressure.  He strongly suspected that if he were to draw his sword, it would be glowing.

“My, my, what a showman!”  The slow clap of the Dokeshi shattered the fragile silence that had held everyone in place.  “I must admit, I’m almost jealous!”  His eyes roved over the people who had heard Grant speak.  “But none of the people here have a chance of defeating me.”

“Maybe not one of them does, but I would be willing to bet that all of them could.”  Grant’s chest started to relax as he started to calm down.

“Perhaps… but I have an alternative.”  He waved to the table where eight equal stacks of chips were already laid out.  “Instead of all that bloodshed, why don’t we make a wager?”  Dokeshi took Grant’s silence as acceptance, and continued.  “We play the tournament as was initially intended.  If you win, it will be as if you have beaten me in battle.  My power and mantle will fall to you.”  Grant still didn’t answer, his mind weighing his options.

“And if I lose?”  Grant finally spoke, after a brief daydream that involved him violently removing the frail-looking man’s head in an exceedingly violent fashion.  He really needed some water.

“If you lose, you spend the rest of the year personally escorting food shipments between District January and District March.”  Dokeshi’s eyes flashed with a brief moment of insanity, and his mouth twisted in a sneer.  “And they will be full shipments of food.  No short-changing us in some petty manner as a way to get back at me for losing.”  Grant looked around the room before answering.  A familiar pink shock of hair that appeared from the doors to the kitchen helped him make his decision.

“My companion and I both walk out of your District, no matter the results.”  Grant countered.

“As long as you return with food shipments, I don’t care what happens with the girl.”  Dokeshi waved her forward, and Suki was led over to a chair off to the side of the room.

“Fine.”  Grant knew that it would be easier to just fight the Mad Jester right now, but many people would die in the process.  And Suki didn’t like seeing people get killed.  “Deal the cards.”

“Excellent.”  Dokeshi March smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.