PW Chapter 286: Destination Decisions (Patreon)

Hasta Manana

“I have no idea what a leveling quest is,” Astrid raised an eyebrow at the surprisingly forthright woman. “I guess it’s got something to do with once you’re an Arcanite tier? Tied to the fact that there’s no tier higher than that.”

“Exactly,” Leah nodded. “Every 50 levels, there’s a leveling quest you need to succeed at before you can continue gaining experience. So far as I know, nobody has surpassed the third quest. Maybe some people have gotten all the way to the fourth, but that would be people so deep in the Dungeon proper that it’s literally impossible for them to come to the surface. They’re beyond human  reach, so I don’t have any information on them. You’ll end up being one of them, I’m sure.”

“And you think that this… what was his name? Finnegan? Do you think he had a quest to kill a Duchess or something?”

“I have no idea what his Class was, so I have no way to know what kind of quests he might have gotten,” Leah shrugged. “It could’ve been to destroy the leadership of a country, it could’ve been to assassinate somebody who was under the protection of other Arcanite tiers, I don’t know. We haven’t ever gotten any leveling quests ourselves, and all we know is that, supposedly, they can be quite strange.”

“And somehow he got desperate enough to try to complete his quest and then escape. But this… Enforcer, I guess you’d call him, from the Council came and took him away before he could do whatever he was trying to do?”

“That’s our best guess,” Leah confirmed. “I can understand why somebody would be desperate in his position, though. If he needed to destabilize a country in order to continue gaining levels, then his only options are on the surface, where his ability to do anything is severely limited. Down below, there’s no chance he’d be able to do anything to the settlements.”

“So the Great One becomes less intelligible as you gain more levels,” Astrid said. Her gaze started to turn back towards where her party continued to stand around Felix, but Isana came forward, shaking her head in emphatic denial.

“The more mana you can taste, the more sense it makes,” she said, looking genuinely insane. Fortunately, Miriam came forward and pulled Isana away before she could continue to try to explain her thoughts. She still very obviously was unhappy with Astrid, but the younger woman didn’t care to have any further conversation with the Dungeoneer.

“I honestly don’t care about that right now,” Astrid waved off Isana. “Instead, I want to know what’s going to happen now. As far as I can tell, of the maybe forty Adamantium tier people in the entire country this morning, we have six left. Five of them are firmly on the Duchess’s side, and the sixth is going to be, at the very least, uninvolved with the ruling party for a while. I want to know what I can expect to happen around here for the next months and years, because all of this? Can’t happen again.”

“What do you suggest?” Ruth asked as she stepped forward. Though still as beautiful as ever, Astrid could see in the way that the Duchess carried herself that she was, at the very least, exhausted. It wasn’t much, just a tightness around her eyes and the faintest hint of a slouch to her shoulders. Anyone who hadn’t spent a fair amount of time with her would never be able to tell. But that she wasn’t perfectly composed was a testament to the day they’d all been through.

“The only thing I can really think of is that you need to be much higher level,” Astrid grunted. “I don’t know what happened to those other nobles who were fighting here. There were two of them, I think. If you’re asking my opinion, they need to be put to death. Any other noble higher level than you might get the same treatment, even if they haven’t fought against you. Maybe if you can get them to sign contracts to always obey you, they can retain freedom.”

“That’s extreme,” she replied.

“No,” Astrid shook her head. Then, sweeping a hand across the devastation that surrounded them, the crumpled bodies of some two thousand soldiers and thousands more innocents. “That is extreme. That we waltzed in here like a bunch of evil gods and destroyed everything in our path until we decided we’d gotten our way is extreme. How dare we? Who do we think we are to have come in here and said that your rule was morally superior to theirs? For all of the people who died today, the result is basically the same, because in the end, they’re dead.”

“It’s not the same,” Ruth said quietly. “For every one of our soldiers, yourself included, we came here with the understanding that we might die, every one of us. All of us knew that and willingly came here to fight against a tyrant who would take every freedom she could from every person in this nation. It’s a terrible sacrifice to ask, but nobody who supported me was coerced into coming today. Instead, with eyes wide open, we stepped into the breach for the hope of a better tomorrow. If I’m not mistaken, you held that same belief when you came here.”

Astrid gritted her teeth against that argument, but she did nod once. Then, she amended her argument.

“Our responsibility, as people who thought ourselves better than the other option, was to be better. On the battlefield? We’re largely responsible for what happened here today. We can’t change that. It’s our fault that all these innocents died. Every child’s broken body out there is on our hands. We can apologize or swear about our righteous intentions, but in the end, mothers, fathers, and children are bereft, and it’s our fault. But I swear, by my name, by my mother who died for your cause, and by the Great One that has given me this strength, that if you are not better, I will do the same thing to you that I did to the Marchioness.”

At that, silence settled between the two of them. Astrid noted that quite a few people stood nearby, and even Greely, Eve, and Philip listened as she spoke. A hint of embarrassment colored her cheeks at that, but she didn’t let that weaken her stance. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ruth and maintained eye contact.

“I’ll keep you close, make sure you can see what kind of ruler I am,” the woman said, and Astrid was reminded that, among other things, Ruth was her friend. And despite Astrid’s current public berating and breakdown, Ruth was treating her patiently. “I didn’t want this to happen. I hoped we could catch her completely by unawares and take her with as little bloodshed as possible. We failed, and I will mourn the fallen. But I will also accept the gratitude of the survivors who will have the freedom to choose from here on.”

“Thanks,” Astrid answered, the words tasting hollow in her mouth. “So, are you going to focus on gaining levels? If you’re at least at the top of Mithril, then I think you’ll be able to keep most people in line. Are any of the other nobles Adamantium tier?”

“There are several of them, but they adopted a wait-and-see approach. They’ll keep some power, but they’ll have a fair amount of their holdings taken from them. I’ll take care of the politics of it all,” Ruth answered without actually answering if she would be able to take care of everything so easily. “It will take a while before there’s any real progress made. However, what you might’ve seen is that, as the ruling Class, I have a natural, inborn measure of control over all of the other noble Classes. The problem with the Marchioness was that she was much higher level, and I didn’t want to take too heavy a hand and push her to revolt. Now, though, I can stand my ground more easily.”

“You said you were going to take care of the politics yourself. I don’t need to hear about all of the specific reasoning behind all of your choices,” Astrid shook her head. A part of her screamed that she needed to know better, she needed to understand why everybody had done what they had done, but the rest of her was already done talking. Her mother was dead. The war was over. Astrid was done.

“I’m going to leave,” Astrid said, taking a slow, pained breath. “I’ll be back sometime in the next week. But my father deserves to hear about what happened from my mouth. Everybody deserves the truth of what happened here, but it’ll be better for the family of the fallen to hear about it from you or whatever commanding officers survived.”

Ruth took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and then nodding. “It makes sense. I need to go to each of the cities and give the news myself. If it’s somebody else, it’ll weaken my already loose hold on the country. Thanks for the reminder of how my job is never done.”

“Do you need me to wait for you?” Astrid asked, the display of politeness costing her something. “I can escort you to Stahlstadt, if nothing else.”

“No,” Ruth shook her head. “Saul will teleport me around. If I could be so bold, though, I would like to request that you and the rest of the Wanderers accompany me. Present you as heroes and as the replacement for the—”

Astrid shook her head, continuing the movement until Ruth stopped talking. When the Duchess went quiet, Astrid spoke. 

“I’ll be your friend. I’ll stand up for you and, if you live up to your promises, I’ll be someone you can depend on. But I’m not going to be the Duchess’s hand. The Wanderers… Well, I don’t think that we’re going to be together for more than another week or two. I’m going to continue delving, and we’ll all be going our separate ways. Skandr might enjoy being a court Wizard, though. You’ll have to talk to him about it.” The faintest hint of mirth that colored her words felt like a betrayal of her mother. She knew it was stupid, and that Brighid had given her life for her daughter without hesitation. Her mother would want her to be happy.

Mourning was deserved, though. Until she’d truly allowed herself that, happiness could come later.

“All right,” the Duchess said, squaring her shoulders back and becoming the ruler of the country once again. “Thank you, Astrid. For being here. For helping.”

Astrid nodded before turning on her heel and starting to walk away. It felt somewhat poetic that, as she got back to the Wanderers, the first charge of Regeneration returned, but there was nobody she could even heal with it. Anyone who’d survived was fine, and everyone else was dead.

***

“You cannot convince me to go elsewhere. My blood-bound sister needs me, and I will share in your suffering.”

The three men of the Wanderers were going to stay in Ginnastadt, and Astrid had suggested that Muti do the same. In response, Muti had taken a firm stance, and Astrid didn’t have the energy to argue.

“You’ll be back in the next week?” Skandr confirmed.

“I’ll make sure I at least make a quick trip back here by then. I don’t know if I’ll stick around, though.”

“This isn’t the end of the Wanderers,” Benedict said, stepping forward and taking her into a hug. “We’re still a party, at least until you come back and we have a good meal together. We’re not done until we end it on a happy note.”

Astrid just smiled somberly in response, returning the hug and stepping back. Felix had waffled back and forth about whether he would accompany Muti or stay in the capital, but the decision was made now. He figured that there might be unrest in the city, and he might be able to help with that. He and Muti exchanged a short kiss before he stepped back. His hair, now long enough to have a braid run all down his head and get pulled into a club at the back of his neck, remained in the war braid that his lover had put it in just a few hours before.

With a soft smile, he untied the braid and worked his fingers through his hair as he looked at Muti. “I’ll be waiting for your return. Please, come back quickly. I can’t stand having my hair like this.”

“You silly creature. It is no betrayal of you to care for your own appearance in my absence.”

“I know. But it isn’t the same if it isn’t done by you.”

That was the last thing that the two sides of the Wanderers said to each other before Astrid and Muti turned and began their journey out of the capital.

After years of dreaming about what Ginnastadt would look like, Astrid found that she couldn’t bring herself to even look around. Outside of the center of the city, the destruction was negligible. Everywhere around her was the evidence of how people sold, worked, and lived, but Astrid had no mind to see how they reacted to her presence. Despite that, she did see some scared people poking their heads out of windows, a few others huddled in alleys as they waited for battle to resume, and, most surprisingly, ]two brave children who hung out in doorways to give her small cheers. Much more cautious mothers appeared before long to yank the children back in, but Astrid found she didn’t care about the city. Only the people within it.

Muti remained silent at her side as they walked forward. Astrid had placed her mother’s body in her spatial pouch, and her shield was torn, possibly beyond repair. Her breastplate was pierced through, her own body coated in gore from herself and her enemies. Every inch of her body and equipment had only been cleansed of blood and gore through a painfully long scrubbing in a pool Eve had created in the wreckage outside of the destroyed fortress. No longer did she wear her armor, only carrying enough weight to make sure to trigger Steady Load through her hammer, greaves, and boots.

Leaving the city, Astrid found herself walking at a regular pace. She knew the path she was going to follow. Even if, at some point, she needed to get directions, that wouldn’t be difficult. The roads to follow were clear and open. Despite that knowledge of her destination and how to reach it, she couldn’t bring herself to run. So much of her energy, her willingness to hurry, had disappeared. Instead, she trudged along and said nothing. Muti matched her pace, and their journey continued that way for maybe half an hour. In that time, they’d only made it maybe three or four kilometers, something they could do in less than a minute if they were even hurrying a little.

“Do you fear meeting with your father?” Muti asked, breaking the silence that hung between them.

“What?” Astrid asked, disbelieving.

“Do you fear that he will chastise you? Hate you? Be disgusted or disappointed?”

“Of course not,” Astrid scoffed.

“Then why do you delay your arrival? Is there aught to avoid at your home? Is it fear from having to tell him what happened? Do you fear his reaction upon hearing of the death of your mother?”

“He’s not going to be happy.”

“That was not my question. Of course he will mourn with you. Of course his heart will break. That is a given, as his mate has died. Regardless, you are delaying your arrival. Why?”

“I’m not delaying seeing him,” Astrid shook her head. “I know how he’s going to react. He’ll be upset, but he’ll comfort me and stay close to me. He’ll support me, love me. Do everything that I need from him.”

“And do you not want him to do this?”

Astrid just shook her head, not saying anything else as she couldn’t find the words. After a short time, Muti shrugged and spoke up.

“It seems to me that it would be better for you to get to him sooner rather than later. That he will benefit from being near you as much as you will from him. That is why I ask.”

“You’re too blunt,” Astrid grunted. Even so, she did find some measure of solace in Muti’s words. She smirked a little, looking at Muti before rolling her shoulders and looking forward. Her boots on her feet started to warm as she cycled mana into them, and Astrid started running. Muti followed along without any issue, and the kilometers disappeared as they hurried onward.

They skirted around cities as they came across them, since there was no reason to send anybody into a panic simply because they were journeying. Instead, Astrid pushed herself from a jog to a run and finally to a sprint. It was a testament to her Skills and attributes that she could push herself as hard as possible and not grow tired. The Unfallen Meteor was no longer a regular Human.

Dread gathered in her stomach as she sped past mountains and valleys, but nothing could stop her continued path onward. Finally, the walls of her hometown came into view, and Astrid couldn’t hold herself back. Even so, she didn’t want to take the opportunity to present her victory away from the Duchess. As such, with Muti’s Executioner’s Presence, they walked silently into the city, avoiding everybody’s attention. Whoever was left in charge of protecting the city might be able to note their presence, though probably not. 

That worry didn’t last in her mind, though. Instead, she barely contained herself as she jogged towards her parents’ home. Ahna’s home, she reminded herself. Brighid had said that her husband promised to stay with Ahna, protect her and watch her children while Brighid and Astrid went to war. 

With her stomach twisting, Astrid knocked on the door. Her father’s voice called out, asking her to wait, and she almost ran. Instead, she stood there and waited. As soon as the door opened and her father’s eyes met hers, though, Astrid couldn’t hold back any longer. His mouth widened in a smile as he saw her, but her own face crumpled. Unable to say anything, she fell into her father’s arms and broke. She let herself become unraveled and, while he wrapped her in his arms, he seemed to begin to understand why she was there. Muti, thankfully, gave the information Astrid couldn’t manage to convey

“The war is won. Brighid died earlier today. Your daughter needs you.”

Savraba’s legs threatened to buckle, but he picked his daughter up and carried her inside. To the couch he made it, where he fell into a sitting position and all the family that Astrid had left cried together, mourning the death of her mother.