Chương 85: 2.26 Conflicting Priorities

Hector spent another ten minutes or so resting under the long, angular boulder, waiting for his muscles to stop twitching and for his excitement—no doubt fueled by the euphoria of the level-gain—to fade. Of course, he was eager to find out where his new "Phase Pathways" were going to lead, but he had to dial that down if he wanted to avoid making foolish mistakes. Every step out there on the stony plain was risky.

Still, while he lay there, observing and waiting for the adrenaline to flush out, he contemplated the notion. When it came to aura systems, "phasing" often meant some sort of matter transition, and it usually had to do with movement or defensive abilities. Considering his archetype was Reaver, he thought it was likely to lean more toward movement or even attack—some kind of charge or matter disruption or… Lock it down, dummy. There are thousands of possibilities. Focus.

The self-chastisement hadn't occurred in a vacuum; something massive had moved nearby, close enough to make the little puddles in front of his hiding spot ripple. He never saw the lumbering creature, though he imagined it was a hook titan moving somewhere behind him. When the rumbling passed, and the water stopped dancing in the puddles, he emerged from his hole and began running again, watching as the dark line of trees grew more and more distinct.

He'd seen woods like the one in front of him before, and when he realized it, he cursed. Those trees might not drip acid, but the ground beneath their canopies would be soft and wet—a veritable marsh. He spoke into his comm channel with Paige.

"We have any survey data on my location?" It was a question he probably should have asked sooner, but he hadn't expected to range so far afield, and he'd been hoping some sign of the rift would present itself before he got to the treeline. Movement in the dark areas between the trunks caught his eye, and Hector slowed, angling toward a dead, windblown trunk that was propped against a cluster of boulders. As he crouched there, Paige replied, "The surveys indicate a palus ash forest ahead of you.

The ground slopes sharply toward a river valley about six klicks in, but the data is sparse; drones don't last long around woods like that. Javelin cranes don't like them." Hector was peering into the mass of pale trunks and their long, flexible branches. He didn't have to look long to find one of the cranes—long legs, silvery feathers, and a two-meter tail that ended in a spiked barb that could punch through two centimeters of armored plating. They were, like most of the rift denizens, incredibly territorial.

"I think the rift's in there," he whispered, though his helmet's insulation ensured his voice didn't carry past his faceplate.

"I could try to get a look with the drone," she replied.

"It's charging right now."

"The cranes won't stand for it."

"Might get some footage before they get it."

"I'll see if I can get eyes on it. Just hunker down for now; keep the drone inside. No sense risking something following it back to the cave." With that, Hector checked his aura pool— 30/30 —and ran the last few meters to the tree line, angling away from the crane he'd seen. He knew from experience that if he kept his steps near the trunks, he'd avoid the worst of the mud and, hopefully, avoid slipping into the deeper water that ran in a series of interwoven channels through the entire forest.

The cranes were aggressive and deadly, but they weren't social creatures; there'd only be a single mating pair in any given hectare, give or take a dozen square meters. They weren't the only danger in a palus ash forest; a person could step or slide into mud that was impossible to escape, and then there were the ravenous insect swarms, the dog-sized mud crabs, and the flesh-eating drake fish. Hector's style of movement—leaping from one tree bole to another—was the best way to avoid most of those dangers.

As for the insect swarms, he figured he'd have to be lucky. He was about fifty meters into the woods when one of the cranes spotted him, shrieked, and dove from the heights. Unlike true cranes, these bird-like creatures were excellent climbers and enjoyed perching high in the trees. Hector immediately activated his Shadow Stalk ability and leaped to the side. As the light bent away from him, and the air grew still and muted, he kept moving, increasing his pace to take advantage of his ability.

He let it run for a minute, during which he covered fifty meters, leaping over sluggish channels, sliding through shallow mud, and catching himself on one tree after another. The slope continued to increase, and soon he felt like he was falling as much as jumping as he raced through the deadly marsh woods. As he closed off his aura pathway, cancelling the effects of his Shadow Stalk, he froze beside a tree, hugging close to the papery bark as he waited to see if anything had pursued him.

He was still sitting on more than twenty aura in his pool, so he held himself ready to renew the ability and bolt, but, after half a minute of silence, he felt sure he'd lost the crane and the many other creatures he'd run past during the charge. Satisfied, he continued his forward movement, slower and more careful as he allowed his aura to replenish.

He repeated a similar process two more times before he came upon one of the javelin cranes as it feasted, using its tail to spear shining, jagged-toothed fish from a junction of canals and deposit them, one by one, into its beak. Hector was behind it, and already hidden by Shadow Stalk, and he decided to capitalize on the fortuitous positioning. He crept forward, hastily checking his aura pool: 22/30.

Satisfied that he'd have enough left over to flee if he had to, he positioned himself, primed his Aura Blade, and leaped. He was a shadow flitting through the air—a shadow that erupted with crimson light and a steaming, red-glass blade. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Just as the tip of his weapon slipped through the silvery feathers, the creature became aware of him and it moved.

Hector felt the tug on the tip of his blade as it bolted, flapping its wings and somehow bending space as it evaded his blow. One second it was under him, the next it was on the far side of the muddy channel. Hector's feet came down on ground that was too soft, and he sank half a meter instantly. Standing there, his Shadow Stalk making the light flicker as it tried to hide him again, his blade steaming away as the water beneath him splashed with leaping fish, Hector felt foolish.

The crane approached, tilting its head as it effortlessly navigated the muddy slope. It held its spine-tipped tail high, the gleaming point aimed at Hector's face. Hector dropped Shadow Stalk; he needed his aura. With tremendous effort, he pulled his left foot out of the mud and placed it on the bank, widening his stance. All the while, he watched the bird approach. It was taller than he was, and its tail-spike loomed high, weaving in an almost mesmerizing way.

The fish stopped jumping, and he knew why: they'd seen their natural predator returning and lost interest in him. When the crane was just a single step away from being close enough to impale him, Hector activated his Speed Boost, pouring five aura into it. He pushed hard off his left foot, tugging his right foot out of the mud with all his might. He was lucky, in a way, that he hadn't stepped into one of the more soupy morasses.

In fact, it felt like a thick tree root was just under the surface and his left foot found good purchase. The crane didn't intend to let him escape; it lanced its javelin tail at him, but Hector was fully wired by his Speed Boost. He watched the gleaming metalline tip weave toward his face and brought his Aura Blade up to meet it. Faster than the blink of an eye, the clash was over, and the crane's tail—most of it, anyway—flopped onto the muddy ground at Hector's feet.

As the creature realized what it had lost, opening its beak to screech, Hector lunged forward and swept his blade from left to right in a backhanded slash. Blue-tinted blood erupted from the bird's truncated neck, squirting in pulses as its feet did some kind of involuntary nerve dance, tapping the ground with a thudding staccato rhythm. Hector kicked the head and neck toward the water, then hastily pressed his hand against the feathery body, willing his aura system to churn. //37 potentia gathered.

Potentia available: 257. // The water bubbled behind him, and Hector slipped, sliding back toward it. Grunting and grasping, he let go of his Aura Blade and punched a hand into the muddy bank, halting the slide. He knew a fresh assault could come from any direction at any second, and he scrabbled up the slope, using all fours to find the purchase he needed until he could stand on the relatively firm ground near another tree.

Looking down the slope, he watched as fish, twenty-centimeters long, leaped from the water, flopping up the muddy bank through the crane's thick blood to bite into it. When they'd had a mouthful of its feathery flesh, they flopped back to the water. Each wave of fish dragged the corpse closer to the water and, in seconds, it was gone, reduced to a thin blanket of silvery feathers floating on the muddy water.

Hector held very still, scanning the forest, waiting for the next nightmare to emerge, but it seemed he'd caught a break. After a few minutes, when his aura had regenerated, he started moving again, carefully proceeding down the slope. He only covered another fifty meters before he stopped dead, clinging to the trunk of a narrow, steeply slanted tree. Ahead, he could see a break in the woods as they gave way to a meadow covered with clumps of dense, reddish-gray grass.

It wasn't the lack of trees that had halted him; down the slope, maybe two klicks in the distance, he saw a wide ribbon of muddy green water, and, hanging in the air above the water, the rift. It looked just as it had in its previous location—a hundred-meter rip in the universe that pulsed with concentric rings of purple energy, rolling, one after the other, into the lightless abyss at its center.

"It's here," he whispered into his comms.

"On your location?" Paige asked, words quick with excitement. Hector glanced at his rangefinder.

"1900 meters east."

"Is it still quickening?" Her voice was breathless, the anticipation thick in her tone. Hector glanced at his HUD again, looking at the data streams the helmet's AI was providing.

"It is, but not as much. It's normalizing, but…" He watched as the calculations updated.

"At this rate, the rift will shift in a little more than nine days."

"How's the terrain?" Hector didn't answer immediately; he was watching the grassy clumps on the valley floor, wondering what kinds of predators were lurking out there. As he watched, he felt a vibration through the tree and looked up, afraid he'd missed something much closer to hand, but then he felt the vibration again, this time through the soles of his muddy boots. Looking out at the meadow again, he saw what it was—an enormous hook titan was walking into his field of view.

Some smaller creatures broke from their hiding spots, darting or flying off to the north as the titan approached from the south. When it was fully in view, Hector watched it for a few seconds, then said, "There's a hook titan hanging around near the rift. It looks like it's… mesmerized by it." It was true; the creature sat down, reaching over its shoulder to scratch its thick, furry hide with its massive, hooked claw-hand.

"What do you mean?"

"It's sitting there, watching the rift."

"I thought they avoided rifts."

"This guy missed the memo." Hector changed the subject: "That's just one of our problems. It's not an easy trip here. I'm trying to be imaginative, Paige, but I'm struggling to think of a world where we all make it here alive." Her reply wasn't immediate, and for a second he thought maybe their connection had grown spotty; it had happened twice already. He was about to prompt her, asking if she was there, but then she spoke, and her voice was small.

"I'd understand, Hector, if you wanted to stay there and wait for the rift to shift. You're over ten kilometers from us, and if you come back, that'll be two more trips you'll have to make. Like you said, we're going to be a lot noisier and slower than you by yourself."

"You want me to sit here and hide while the rest of you try to make it?" The idea seemed so despicable that he had to pause to think about his reaction. Wasn't he there to gain potentia? Hadn't he done so? Shouldn't he do everything he could to maximize his chances of getting out of the rift so he could pursue his revenge? Surely, the best way to maximize those chances was to just hunker down and wait for the rift to shift. He smiled when he realized he had no desire to play that mercenary role.

Paige stammered a reply, "Well, I don't want that…" Hector tuned her out, still thinking about his duty to avenge the Conti family and how it clashed with other duties; real or perceived, it didn't matter to him. Paige and the others were part of his team. In fact, hadn't he assured Freddy's own mother that he'd look after the kid? Hadn't he told Paige he'd get her through this mess? Maybe not exactly, but he'd certainly implied as much. He felt responsible for them, and for the others, too.

Mathews might or might not be a rift fiend, but he owed it to her to at least try to find out. Despite all those noble thoughts, what he said was, "Hell, Paige, someone in that cave tried to kill us all. Think I can just let that go?"