Nectar
patreon
B2 | Chapter 6 - Deadwood
🕑 Added 2025-05-05 15:07:55 +0000 UTC< Previous | ToC | Next >
B2 | Chapter 6 - Deadwood
Theodore was having a deeply philosophical argument with nothing in particular. Not with the walls of the carriage rattling. Not with the coachman who had spent the last three hours in a stony silence. Not with Roland, who rode by the vehicle like a burnished statue outdoors, as though comfort was something that only other people experienced.
No, Theodore was simply having it out with the universe at large about the injustice of travel.
It's just not right, he thought, shifting for the seventeenth time in many minutes. We have magic. Literal, reality-bending magic. Aunt can fucking teleport. And we're still bouncing around in wooden boxes.
The carriage hit a rut, launching him a solid inch off the padded bench before gravity reclaimed him with prejudice.
Theodore sighed.
Traveling sucked.
It always had, probably always would.
Even with all the modern marvels, travel had been miserable in its own special ways back on Earth. Splinters and horse excrement were just exchanged for security lines and wailing infants.
Ah, the wailing infants. The parents had his sympathies.
Some things were universal constants, he supposed. Death, taxes, and the fundamental discomfort of getting from point A to point B, unless you were flying or on a dragon. But then again, even though he could fly, considering the distance, that would not be practical.
He looked through the window, past the horse-guards that stood like somber chess pieces on either side of the carriage. For the first few hours, the countryside had been lovely enough. Farmland with tidy little hedgerows, rolling hills, and the occasional settlement with curious faces watching as they went by.
But they'd moved on from that a while ago.
The scenery was shifting now, getting darker. With their branches extending like twisted, arthritic fingers, the trees were getting closer to one another. Here, even the sunlight appeared thinner, as if it were having a harder time penetrating the thicker canopy.
He could hear the coachman shouting something to Roland as the carriage slowed.
After a moment, Roland's face appeared through the window.
"My lord. We're approaching the Deadwoods."
"Already? I thought we wouldn't reach it until tomorrow."
"We've made good time."
"I see."
"Yeah. But we should discuss our approach. The Deadwoods are not entirely tame."
Not entirely tame.
Now there was an understatement that would make British aristocracy proud.
They were known as the Deadwoods. Not simply haunted, which would be somewhat cliché. The Deadwoods were deliberately antagonistic. A place where the line separating life and death was as thin as damp tissue paper.
Death grew roots, lingered too long, and changed into something else entirely.
At last the carriage came to a rolling halt.
"Should we go around?" Theodore inquired despite already knowing the answer. Their journey would take several days if they went around. If they wanted to get the fervidite bargain, they had to go faster.
Roland's face remained unchanged.
"It would delay us considerably. But it is your decision, my lord."
"No, we'll go through. Just... carefully."
Roland nodded. "I'll instruct the men."
He rode forward to talk to the other guards, while Theodore observed with amusement. Four men against the Deadwoods. Not great odds, really. But then again, quality over quantity.
Roland alone was a [Knight] of Journeyman Rank. Theodore had seen him train. Had seen the man move like solidified water, his blade whirling through the air so precisely that it appeared to break the air. And that was just practice. In actual combat, with his Skills active?
Theodore couldn't quite imagine it.
Once more, the wagon stumbled forward and went into the woods' gloom. As if they had entered a frigid cellar, the temperature fell instantly. Even through the walls of the carriage, Theodore sensed it.
Lovely.
He settled back.
The guards had to ride in front and behind instead of beside them as the path grew narrower. Overhead, the trees closed in, their branches connecting like intertwined fingers, excluding all but the strongest rays of sunlight.
Theodore grew more aware of his surroundings than he had been throughout the day. He was no longer lured toward sleepiness by the carriage's mesmerizing creak and wobble. All senses were sharpened, awake.
He wasn't dreaming of the hazy pressure behind his eyelids that normally preceded increased mana awareness. Here, the mana was different. Somehow thicker. Slow. Like honey left out in the cold for too long.
And it wasn't just the quality.
Something concerning the... trajectory of it?
Theodore scowled, finding it difficult to articulate to himself what he was feeling. Typically, mana flowed like water, with predictable and controllable eddies and currents. However, it felt as though it was being drawn here, inevitably, toward something deeper into the forest.
Definitely not good. But maybe he should go deeper on the journey back home? It could be interesting.
Theodore was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a branch snapping, followed by another sound. It came from just off the route, someplace to the left. It wasn't the typical forest sounds of birds, squirrels, or wind. It was something else.
Leaning at the window, Theodore looked out. The guards were also aware. Hands went to the weapons. Postures straightened. Nothing happened for a while. Just the sound of hoofs slogging, wheels creaking, and the occasional horse snort.
Then there was another crack. This time, it was closer.
When Roland held out his hand, the carriage came to a halt once more. There was complete stillness after that. Not even the chirp of insects or the call of birds could break it.
"Stay in the carriage, my lord."
Like hell he would.
Roland probably saw something on his face because he gave him a stern look of disapproval, but Theodore ignored him and opened the carriage door.
"What is it?"
Roland took a while to respond. His focus narrowed as he looked around the trees. One hand was on his sword's hilt, ready but not yet drawn.
"We're being watched," he said finally.
"Bandits?" The other guard inquired. Perhaps Theodore's age, young man. He appeared too clean-cut to be handling whatever was hiding in these forests. However, if he was on this team in the first place, he most likely had a lot of talent.
Roland shook his head. "No."
It was then that Theodore noticed it. A pallid figure, maybe twenty yards away, standing between two trees. Humanoid, yet in some ways wrong. Its proportions were just a little incorrect, as if the artist had only been told about human anatomy rather than seeing it.
There was no movement. It was simply observing.
"Undead," Roland stated flatly.
As if responding to its species being named, the figure took a shambling step forward. And another. It moved erratically and clumsily, similar to a puppet with half of its strings cut.
Calmly assessing the situation, Theodore frowned. Although it wasn't his first time seeing undead, each kind had unique characteristics. It was best to watch before acting.
Roland pulled out his sword, catching the scant light that came through the canopy. The zombie creature stumbled toward them. Theodore could now see details that he wished he could not see. The pallor of its gray-green skin. The empty sockets where eyes should be. How its mouth hung open, showing a tongue that had long since started to decay and blackened teeth.
Roland got off the horse with ease, keeping his gaze fixed on the approaching undead. Then he said, "Gregor, Tomas, with me. Allen, stay alert."
And the lone undead figure kept moving. Then two more came out of the trees behind it, almost casually. Next, another pair. Then a group of three.
Hardly a warmup for a Journeyman [Knight].
Allen gave him a worried look, but Theodore ignored him and left the carriage. He would fight sooner or later, and there was no point in running from this fight. Might as well now, when Roland could clean up any mistakes.
Roland wasted no time in speaking. He just shifted. One second standing ten feet away from the closest undead, he stood right next to it the next second, the lightning sizzling behind him. His sword had already finished its arc through the creature's neck. The head fell first, then the body a second later.
Theodore knew about [Flash Step]. Although the raw speed was astounding, competent users were really distinguished by their control and accuracy.
Roland did not pause. He turned, his blade already cutting through the torso of another undead, severing it at the waist. Although their actions appeared practically slow in comparison to Roland's extraordinary speed, the other guards also participated.
Two zombies lurched from the treeline, and Theodore moved to the edge of the walkway. Like molten steel, mana poured out of his core as he raised one hand. Flames erupted from his palm, a concentrated inferno that roared forward in a blazing spiral. The undead was hit squarely in the chest by the blaze. Instead of stumbling, it exploded, vaporizing bone and flesh in a matter of seconds. A fine black mist of ash fell down.
Theodore didn't stop. The ground reacted like a beast following its master when he snapped his other hand forward. Jagged stone spears erupted up from the earth, impaling the undead through its legs, chest, and skull.
With a quick movement of his wrist, the stone crunched back, allowing the body to fall in a twitching heap.
He turned, already on the move, looking around for more.
From the shadows sprang another figure, swift, snarling. Theodore took a breath. The air encircled him. Compressing the air, he forged it into a sword so thin that it shimmered as it whistled through the air, silencing as it passed through the undead's neck.
When the head rolled, the body fell along with it as he spun around once more and saw Roland's battle come to a close, with three undead being cut to pieces.
More undead appeared, and Theodore held up his hand once more, the heat already crackling around his fingertips like a living creature begging to be let loose.
"Roland," he said in a serene, collected voice. "Coming."
Blades wet, Roland followed his gaze.
"Gregor, Tomas—positions. Allen, stay with Lord Theodore."
Theodore, however, was not going to hide behind guards. This was a real test, a trial run. Though theory had its limitations, Derrick had given him lectures on offensive casting and mana shields. The time had come to use that knowledge.
Mana rushed, solidified, and clicked into a dome all around him, almost too quickly for his own senses to keep up with.
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Mana Shield]!
Screeching, three undead emerged from the swarm. Claws sparking against the barrier's surface, they crashed into it. Theodore remained unflinching. Rather, he observed with curiosity. His right hand started to form a sphere of compressed mana. Thick and whirling at its center. It whined like a tuning fork as he pointed. Not only did the bolt ignite forward, it tore through the atmosphere, air spiraling around it. It went through the head of the lead undead and brain matter exploded out the back like a ruptured melon.
Before the body touched the floor, two more bolts, tighter and more angular, blazed into being. The second mana bolt bore through a jaw. The third hit square in the chest, detonating inside the rib cage. There was a hollow drumbeat of bone cracking.
[Mana Shield] has leveled up! - Lvl 0 > Lvl 1!
[Mana Shield] has leveled up! - Lvl 1 > Lvl 2!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Mana Bolt]!
[Mana Bolt] - Lvl 0 > Lvl 1!
[Mana Bolt] has leveled up! - Lvl 1 > Lvl 2!
[Mana Bolt] has leveled up! - Lvl 2 > Lvl 3!
[Elemental Spells] has leveled up! – Lvl 19 > Lvl 20!
The mana shield dissolved. Not because it failed, but because he no longer needed it.
He held up both hands, breathing slowly. Moisture in the air snapped into tiny icicles—ten, maybe more—hovering like a crown of blades around him. With a simple wrist flick, they blasted forward in a burst, spiraling toward the undead. One undead was torn apart mid-lunge, its limbs trapped in mid-air. Fire erupted around the wounds before it struck the ground, scorching tendon, boiling rot, and reducing bone to ash. Two more staggered back as shards punctured their brains, punching clean through stale brain matter and rotted bone. Their bodies collapsed in heaps.
The air was split by a shrill whistle, and the spike whirled in, piercing the undead's eye socket and protruding out the opposite side of its skull.
Theodore didn't even watch it fall.
[Elemental Spells] has leveled up! – Lvl 20 > Lvl 21!
He moved forward and slammed his hand to the ground. The earth rippled, then spiked upward in a forest of jagged stone, impaling three at once, lifting them off the ground. The stone exploded with a twist of his fingers, tearing them apart in a blast of rough shrapnel that ripped into those behind.
A pressured vortex formed from the condensing air to his right, which was then squeezed even more tightly into a number of javelins. The wind javelins blasted like a cannon and shredded through a bunch of undead. Bodies were sliced in half, cauterized as they fell. One undead ducked. It was quick and clever. Theodore remained still. Above it, a sphere of water formed, then instantly froze into a thick orb laced with spikes. The rest was gravity. Like a bug beneath a boot, it crushed the creature.
Then silence.
"Clear," Roland called.
He looked first at Theodore, then at the scorched, twisted remnants at his feet.
Theodore sighed contentedly.
"Productive morning," he said lightly, though the corner of his mouth curled.
The guards quickly dragged the undead corpses off the path, where they stacked the bodies up for burning. It was standard procedure: whatever vile magic was there in these forests would cause the dead to reanimate if they were left undamaged.
Theodore considered what he had seen as they prepared to move on. Given that Roland had hardly broken a sweat or used any of his higher level skills, it made the gap between an Initiate and a Journeyman apparent in the most visceral way possible.
There were seven Class Ranks in total, as far as Theodore had learned:
Initiate
Apprentice
Journeyman
Adept
Expert
Master
Grandmaster
While Theodore was an Initiate Rank [Mage]—albeit close to reaching Apprentice—Roland was already a Journeyman Rank [Knight]. Two full tiers ahead.
And even that was modest in the grand scheme of things. Baron Montague, whom Theodore had met, was an Adept. Theodore's Aunt Karmichael was an Expert, his father a Master, and his sister a Journeyman like Roland. He suspected there might be more Ranks beyond Grandmaster, but who could say? According to Derrick, his magic teacher, there were only three Grandmaster Ranked individuals in the entire Empire. Three people who had climbed to the absolute pinnacle of power.
But Class Rank wasn't the only factor. Race played a vital role as well. One's Race needed to be at a higher Rank than one's Class to advance—the body needed to be strong enough to handle the power of a Class breakthrough. The Race Ranks followed a different nomenclature: G, F, E, D, C, B, A.
Seven Ranks again. Based on his knowledge from Earth, Theodore sometimes wondered if the scale continued beyond A—perhaps to S, SS, SSS as in many games he'd played. But he didn't know if this world's power system worked that way.
For now, Rank 7 was considered the top.
And given that Theodore was already Rank F, he was ready to evolve into Apprentice Rank.
I'm close, Theodore thought, looking at the levels he'd gained during the fight:
Your class, [Mage], has leveled up – Lvl 20 > Lvl 21!
Your race, [Human], has leveled up – Lvl 9 > Lvl 10!
Just three more levels, and he'd be able to breakthrough. He couldn't help but think about the potential Class Evolutions he could get! So far as he knew, he'd have to start specializing soon, but that he was willing to do.
Roland and the soldiers took their places, and the carriage started up again. Theodore leaned back. He had done well today. Not Roland-level yet, but he was still satisfied. His resolve deepened. He had to keep pushing himself more to level up, evolve, and grow stronger.
The rest of their journey through the Deadwoods was uneventful but tense. They came across a few more solitary undead and the occasional forest predators that avoided their group. Nothing that took a lot of work.
The sky was getting darker approaching sunset by the time they came out of the shadow of those trees. Beyond the edge of the woods, the air seemed sweeter and the mana flow more organic.
That night, they set up camp in a tiny clearing that was sufficiently distant from the Deadwoods to be secure. Although Theodore thought Roland didn't sleep at all, the guards watched in shifts.
The following days passed in relative peace. They encountered the typical dangers of travel—a pack of dire wolves that thought the horses might make a good meal, bandits that ended up slaughtered by Theodore and Roland, and a few monsters.
Theodore managed to level up some of his skills even more during the journey:
[Mana Bolt] has leveled up! - Lvl 3 > Lvl 5!
[Mana Shield] has leveled up! - Lvl 2 > Lvl 7!
[Meditation] has leveled up! – Lvl 16 > Lvl 17!
[Healing Touch] has leveled up! – Lvl 7 > Lvl 8!
Theodore finally saw the destination on the fifth day, when the sun was at its highest point. There was smoke coming from several locations on the horizon. The mountainside was dotted with the characteristic scaffolding of mine entrances. In the distance, workers moved around like ants.
Westford mines.
They were soon stopped by a group of men on horseback wearing Baron Ashton's color and the crossed picks that represented his family's mining wealth.
The lead rider saluted.
"Lord Theodore. Baron Ashton sends his greetings and apologies for not meeting you personally. He awaits you at the camp."
Theodore nodded, instantly focused on the task at hand. In a way, the trip had been entertaining. But now came the real thing. Heated discussions, fervidite negotiations, mining privileges, politics.
He almost found himself missing the undead.
< Previous | ToC | Next >
