Chương 57: 56. The Desert Reaches

I strengthened my bones. Other than my inability to speak, the effects of the curses had yet to kick in. It was a common trick the rule-masters used: never alarm other participants regarding the effects of a red curse before the start of the trial. I was outright surprised that Harlequin had gone so far to mute me here and now. Probably he feared that I might share more than the effect of red curses. Taking a final glance at my group, I made my way to the center of the arena.

With each step, the pain inflicted by the cards decreased, though it never fully subsided. Eight doors, eight choices. All the rule-masters had their specific way of displaying difficulty. Getting to know it required months, even years. In Harlequin's case, he always used the traditional method. Thus, the pink door would be the most forgiving, while the black would mark a harsh beginning. Standing before the two, I pretended to consider my options. In spite of his cruelty, the jester was remarkably predictable.

In fact, all of them were. All they aimed for was to achieve a spectacle for the deities, which meant the greater the prize, the more difficult it was to reach.

"Anyone who provides advice will receive a red curse," Harlequin said, as if there were crowds lining up to help me. The only people concerned were the four in my group, and by now they knew better.

"The light one," Marcus shouted in defiance. I glanced over my shoulder. What was he playing at? I knew for certain that the black door was the correct choice. Why was he telling me to go with the easiest option? A red card flew from Harlequin's shoulder, landing squarely on Marcus' left eye.

"You were warned," the monster's voice screeched like chains scraping a blackboard.

"Next one will get two." Silence fell. No one dared to make a sound or even move so that they wouldn't be accused of aiding me. Well, fuck. I looked at the doors again. That was the issue with Marcus' intuition. I had seen at least one case where it wasn't correct. Rather, there was no telling whether a choice would be beneficial to him or the group as a whole. There was a time when I would have gladly followed anything he said.

Right now, I chose to go with what my experience was telling me and opened the near-black door. The surrounding hall vanished, replaced by a clump of sharp desert cliffs. The desert reaches, I thought. It wasn't the best place to have an early trial, although it could have been a lot worse. Blue fields of sand continued as far as the eye could see, occasionally broken up by clusters of jagged rocks. Some might be tempted to think that we had started at a good spot close to shelter from the sun and razor winds.

That was an illusion; where there was shelter, there were also monsters. If we were very lucky, it would be only one. Aware that the effects of the curse cards were active, I glanced at my cards: Sealed Lips, Limp Leg, Diarrhea, Lung Shards, Hemophilia. Hemophilia? I wondered. That was unusually imaginative. A single wound risked causing someone to bleed out. When combined with diarrhea and sealed lips, it pretty much guaranteed that I wouldn't be in a state to fight in roughly three days.

The limping and lung shards were just a "bonus" to prevent me from being efficient in combat.

"That was stupid," Eleonor said a few steps away. As Harlequin had promised, the rest of the group had promptly come along with me. They looked around, assessing the situation. Even if they had heard a few things, it was impossible for them to know what was truly in store. Right now, things seemed calm, suggesting the greatest danger might be heat during the day and cold during the night. They had yet to experience the razor storms when flesh, clothes, and armor would be shaved off in a matter of seconds.

I had watched people with regeneration skills venture into a storm, convinced that they had what it took to survive. Some, the lucky ones, got an arm torn off before they could crawl back to safety. The truly unfortunate ones would keep regenerating for minutes until finally they could manage no more. I took a step forward only for my knee to give in, causing me to fall on one leg.

"Greg!" Cathy ran up to me.

"What—" I waved my hands, pointing at my leg.

"Must be a curse," Marcus said with his usual calmness. Quickly, I gestured for her to take out her bow. She did so.

"There goes our advantage," Marcus noted.

"Anyone know sign language?"

"What do you think that means?" Carl asked, his words drenched in fear.

"Will we be okay? I mean, without him, we're a lot weaker." Everyone ignored him. I pointed at the arrow in Cathy's bow, then at my leg.

"That won't hold for long," she said.

"It'll hold for a while," Marcus added.

"I've got some rope." There was no point in asking how and why he had that item on him. For the moment, I needed all the help I could get. Making a splint out of arrows wasn't the best idea I had. Part of me was still hoping that Eleonor would have something up her sleeve. Information was supposedly her thing. Not only did she not offer any help, but she kept staring into the distance without a word. Carl, on the other hand, did nothing but talk about anything and everything while my leg was being bandaged.

All the time I kept on using the Two of Chalice to cast healing spells on my knee and guts. For the moment, my resistance was strong enough to negate the effect of the diarrhea curse, but that remained a ticking time bomb. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

"Thanks, by the way," Marcus said as he tightened the rope.

"I knew you'd pick the black door." I raised both my hands, expressing confusion.

"Why?" he asked, catching my drift.

"I knew I had to get one of those cards." Of course, you did. It had been a selfish action, after all. It had never mattered which door I picked. All he wanted was an excuse for Harlequin to give him a curse. Also, he wasn't reckless enough to go for a second penalty. A single curse was manageable; several could create a nasty combo from which there was no escape. SPONSORSHIP REQUEST A deity is willing to give you a brace if you achieve the first kill.

SPONSORSHIP REQUEST A deity has promised you a lightning gem if you awaken your divine blades to level 2. Two requests popped up before my eyes. They felt like new spectators, only joining because the groups had merged. The requests were direct and cautious, meant exclusively to gauge my abilities. As I suspected, the curses had attracted their attention. I nodded twice. There was no point in not taking advantage of their generosity. Marcus helped me stand up.

Walking took a few moments to get used to, but it wasn't anything I hadn't been through before. The issue was combat. Evading and running away had just become nearly impossible. Thankfully, I didn't have to fight alone. A few steps and I was well accustomed to my new limitations.

"How is it?" Cathy asked. I tilted my right hand left and right, displaying the universal "so-so" gesture. Then I waved high in the air, aiming to attract everyone's attention. Once again, the only one who didn't bother to react was Eleonor.

"Err, Ele," Carl said.

"You're needed here." Never would I have thought that I would be thanking him for anything, but in this case his managerial classlessness proved useful. The goth stopped staring into the distance and honored us with a glance.

"Can you walk?" She looked at me. I gave her a thumbs-up.

"We must start walking. There's a lot we need to cross." I waved both hands again, then pointed at the rock face behind me.

"There are twenty monsters in the trial," she said as if she were talking to a toddler.

"We need to get one before the others. Then we can—" Shut up! I shouted in my mind. Lacking proper communication really made this a lot more challenging. Waving several times in rapid succession for her to stop, I then put my hands on both sides of my head, extending my index fingers.

"The devil?" Carl asked, proving that there was no end to stupidity.

"A monster," Marcus said dispassionately. Thank the cards for his intuition! Energetically, I nodded as I pointed at him, then at the cliffs.

"There's a monster in there," our resident psychopath said. On cue, Cathy drew her bow, pointing an arrow in the rocks' direction. Marcus didn't join her, but his attention had also shifted.

"Are you certain?" Eleonor took a few steps towards me. I gave her two thumbs up.

"What type?" Are you serious? I stared at her. How arrogant could someone be? I tapped my thumbs and index fingers together twice.

"Scorpion." The goth's expression hardened. No doubt she was calculating whether it was better to face the monster of waste half a day walking through the desert. Given a choice, I would have avoided that particular type of creature for our first fight. Chances were that at least half the other groups would come across something a lot less dangerous. That was, provided they entered the trial area. One detail that Harlequin had lied about was the actual start of the trial.

Normally, the start would be once the last participant had set foot in the sculpted world. In this case, it had started the moment the teams were established. Even if they didn't know it, everyone was already on the clock. The longer it took for the teams to decide when to go and which door they had to pick, the more time we had to build up a head start. I drew the divine blades out of my inventory, clearly showing what I thought the best solution to be.

"It's better to fight." Marcus backed me up.

"We'll waste energy crossing the desert."

"Are you sure?" Carl countered. When it came to him, every solution had a problem, and it was always better not to back any choice in case there were repercussions later.

"If Eleanor thinks that it's dangerous, we should listen to her." Eleonor is it? I thought. Interesting that they were on a first-name basis. Not willing to let this go, I slashed in the direction of the cave. The goth had seen what I was capable of at the arena. Even in my current state, I was at least half as strong. It was the knee that remained the greatest issue. That, and my lungs. If I ever got too agitated, the shards would scrape the inner lining of my organs.

"We'll go," Eleonor said.

"Though, not like this…" she glanced at Carl.

"You'll take the lead." Every now and again an event would occur that would bring unnatural glee to all participants involved. Having Carl stand on the front line was one such event. It was justified to the point that I was almost willing to let it happen. Sadly, despite the temptation, I had to step in. I shook my head, pointing at my chest.

"You want to be in front?" Eleonor asked in surprise. Using the blade, I drew a line in the sand. Making sure that everyone was looking, I then drew two bows on either side of it.

"Keep the archers in the back," Cathy translated for me. I nodded and drew another line with a sword beside it.

"Keep Marcus on the second row?" It was an understandable mistake, so I jotted down the letters M and C on either side. Then, finally, I drew the letter G in front—five people in a wedge formation with me at the head. The risk was high, but that was the only way I could prove I remained useful. If this failed, it didn't matter what would happen afterwards—without Harlequin's Sight, I'd return to being a common participant, which meant a sudden death at worst and a slow slide to mediocrity at best.

"If you're sure." Elenor didn't argue. Perfect! That was exactly what I was hoping for. There was only one final thing to add. Calmly I drew an arrow, starting at the archers' line and showing backwards. It was also their role to guard the rear. Knowing how powerful each of them was, that wasn't going to be a problem… as long as there weren't any further surprises.