Chương 36: The First Field Test

Two hours later, Halbreach opened a gate that was not meant for visitors. Not the great portcullis. Not the arch through which the wagons had entered. A low door set into the thickness of the eastern wall, wide enough for six men to pass abreast and ugly enough to give the impression that it had been designed by someone who hated aesthetics, comfort, and optimism in equal measure. Jonah watched it open.

"When a door looks like that, it never leads to a bakery." Voss checked the strap on his sword.

"No."

"I knew it. Tragic." Selka Varn was already waiting outside. She wore the same light armor, but her ash-gray cloak had been fastened higher on the shoulders. Not for style. To keep it from interfering with movement. Around her, eight soldiers of the Marches formed a loose escort. Not a ceremonial guard. A recovery line. They were not there to protect the heroes from everything. They were there to bring back whatever might still be useful. Zayn understood that immediately.

In the Marches, even an escort looked like a preemptive inventory. Maelor was there as well, a few steps behind, accompanied by two mages from the College. No ceremonial robes. No grand sigils. Dark, close-fitted clothing suited for the field. He did not look more vulnerable that way. On the contrary. It was almost more unsettling. As if the office scholar had just removed the decoration around what he really was. Zayn tried to read his soul strength. Like the times before, nothing clean came. No number.

Only a massive presence, too compact and too distant at the same time, like trying to measure a mountain by reaching into fog with one hand. His perception slid over it. Refused. Too much difference. Not yet. Zayn looked away with irritation. Very well. Even his power knew how to remind him of his place. Selka observed all five of them. Elias, calm. Lena, tense but upright. Mira, silent. Jonah, already irritated on principle. Zayn, in the middle, with his dark collar and thoughts less visible than his face.

"Light field," the commander announced. Jonah raised a finger.

"Before we begin, I'd like to file an official complaint against that expression." Selka looked at him.

"Denied."

"But I haven't explained yet."

"I'm saving time." Jonah held still for a second. Then muttered,"I'm surrounded by efficient people. It's oppressive." Selka turned eastward. Ahead of them stretched a low basin, less than a kilometer from the walls, trapped between two dry hills and an old irrigation line. From a distance, it almost looked like an abandoned field. Up close, no. The earth was gray. Not naturally. As if something had washed the color out of it and then left it to dry. The few trees bore twisted black branches.

White stones jutted from the ground here and there, but several had been overturned, broken, marked by claws or old burns. A narrow stream crossed the hollow, its water too dark to reflect the sky properly. Farther out, three wooden poles had been planted in the ground, each carrying a red pennant. Selka pointed at them.

"Three markers. You'll go down, reach all three points, confirm their condition, and come back." Elias studied the terrain.

"Known threats?"

"Contaminated beasts. Small demonic scavengers. Maybe a minor nest. Nothing that should kill a group of heroes." Jonah turned toward Zayn.

"You hear that? If we die, it'll be humiliating." Zayn answered without thinking,"You can always die with dignity to compensate."

"I refuse additional duties." Lena let out a breath despite herself. A real one this time. Small. But real. Selka continued as if no one had just proven that humor was a disease resistant to the front.

"The soldiers do not intervene unless there's a major breach. You handle it alone." Her gaze passed briefly over Zayn.

"Out here, beasts breathe. They bleed. They flee. Sometimes they come back from behind." He understood perfectly what she was not saying. This ground was not chosen only to test the heroes. It was chosen to test him. Living targets. But not too strong. Close enough to Halbreach to recover bodies. Far enough from the walls for actions to speak more clearly than excuses. Very well. They descended. The slope into the basin was covered in dry grass that crackled under their boots.

The air changed after the first twenty meters. Less fortress dust. More organic smell. Damp earth, cold ash, old carcass. Then the numbers appeared. At first far away, scattered through the grass and low ruins. 6 9 If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. 8 Small presences. Then another one, near the stream: 14 More interesting. Zayn felt his mark heat beneath the collar. Not enough to hurt. Enough to remind.

He forced himself to look at the first pennant instead of the values. Bad instinct. He needed to be careful. Mira was walking a few paces from him, but not so close that it was obvious. She was watching the terrain. The stones. The grass. The shadows. And him. Always him between details. Elias naturally took the lead without imposing it. Jonah covered the left flank. Lena stayed a little behind, ready to link. Mira drifted right. Zayn ended up at center-rear. Not by chance. A useful position for observation.

A useful position for surveillance. A useful position to keep him from disappearing too easily. The first cry came from a dead tree. A lean body burst out of it, too low to be human, too long to be a simple dog. Gray-black skin, spine protruding, split jaw. A minor contaminated beast. 8 It sprang at Jonah. Bad choice. Jonah set his line almost by reflex.

"No." The air hardened in front of him. The beast slowed just enough for its own speed to betray it. Its jaws struck the thickened emptiness, its body pitched sideways, and Jonah crushed its neck with the flat of his blade. Not dead. Still too lively. It tried to crawl away. Zayn saw the number tremble. 5 Wounded. Still alive. Still possible. He took a step. Mira turned her head slightly. He stopped. Jonah finished the beast. No message. Not his kill. Zayn felt a dry irritation.

Not because he wanted to save anyone. Because even his opportunism was being watched now. They moved on. The first marker was intact. Elias examined it, Mira confirmed the absence of traps, Lena laid a hand on it as if, despite herself, she were checking whether the thing needed saving too. Nothing. Too easy. Selka, at the top of the slope, watched without moving. So did Maelor. The second point took them close to the stream. The black water moved slowly between two rows of flat stones.

In places, a greasy film floated across the surface. Not pure poison. Not yet. A residue of contamination. Something that had touched the land without fully taking it. Lena stepped too close. A shape erupted from beneath the bank. 14 Bigger than the others. Flat body, long legs, hooked jaw. It did not jump for the face. It aimed for the knee. The kind of beast that did not kill immediately, but opened someone for the pack. Zayn saw it before it emerged. This time, he spoke.

"Under the bank." Lena stepped back just in time. The beast burst into empty air, claws spread. Elias knocked it aside with his spear, but Zayn was already moving. Too fast? Maybe. Not enough to be certain. He cut its line, struck under the throat, missed the killing angle, then drove his dagger into its flank. The beast twisted, clawed his forearm, and snapped for his shoulder. Pain. Good. He drove it into the mud, knee on its thorax, and felt the living body still struggling beneath him.

14 Worth more than the smaller ones. Not by much. Enough. He could have finished it quickly. He did not do it immediately. One second. Only one. He pressed down harder, just to feel the creature lose strength under his weight. It opened its jaws, tried to bite air, scraped the mud without reaching anything. Something in that helplessness pleased him. Not the gain. Not yet. The fact of holding a living being under him, feeling its panic, deciding the exact moment it would stop. The sensation was brief.

But it was there. Clearer than in the previous fights. He finally drove the blade home. [Absorbed soul strength: +1] Current soul strength: 26 Only one point. Again. And yet he remained too calm over the corpse. Lena had seen it. Not the system. The delay. Mira too. Of course. Elias, meanwhile, had seen something else: without Zayn's warning, the beast would have reached Lena. So he said,"Good catch." Zayn rose.

"Yeah." Not thank you. Not nothing. Just yeah. Jonah wiped mud off his sleeve.

"I love when rivers try to eat us. It really enriches my cultural experience." This time, no one answered. Because the field had changed. Values were moving beyond the second pennant. Several. 7 10 9 13 A pack. They were not coming from the front. They were circling. Mira understood almost at the same time from the broken traces in the grass. She crouched, touched a snapped stem, then said,"They're pushing us toward the third point." Elias looked at the farthest red pennant.

"A trap?"

"Or a nest." Selka, up on the slope, did not shout anything. So it was still within the limits of the test. Very well. They continued. But more slowly. The basin narrowed near the third pennant. Stones formed a kind of natural ring around an old collapsed well. The place smelled stronger. Old flesh, stagnant water, faint sulfur. Zayn saw the nest before the others. Not visually. By the numbers. Too many small values clustered under the stone. 3 4 2 5 4 And at the center: 18 A mother or a minor alpha.

Not a true demon. But more than an ordinary beast. The third pennant had been planted right at the edge of the well. Of course. Jonah looked at the arrangement.

"I propose we declare the marker emotionally confirmed from here." From above, Voss shouted,"Marker must be touched!" Jonah threw up his arms.

"Bureaucracy survives even into death." Elias signaled them forward. The pack attacked when they crossed the first ring of stones. Small, fast forms covered in black crusts, jaws too large for their skulls. Not dangerous alone. Dangerous in numbers. They aimed for ankles, wrists, openings. Lena sent out her threads. One to Elias. One to Jonah. One to Zayn. The pale contact caught on his shoulder. Zayn felt the support immediately. And hated it. Not because it was useless. Because it was useful.

Lena was spending endurance so that he could stay standing. Again. Even after the lies, the suspicions, the alleys, the looks, she was still tying a thread to him. A beast sprang for his throat. 4 He killed it with a short strike. [Absorbed soul strength: +0] Nothing. Another slipped under his guard. 5 He pinned it against the stone. [Absorbed soul strength: +0] Still nothing. Irritation. Then the alpha emerged from the well. 18 Larger. More hideous.

Its back carried a ridge of red plates, and its gaze was not merely animal. There was the beginning of malice in it. Not human intelligence. A low cruelty. The kind of thing that understood at least that the wounded screamed better when bitten slowly. It lunged at Lena. Of course. Elias stepped in. Of course. Zayn saw several things at once. If he let Elias take the charge, Elias would save again. Might rise. Might not. But he would hold the role again. If Zayn intervened, he could take a target worth 18. Maybe +1.

Maybe +2 if the return was good. And if, in the process, Lena saw that he had just saved her? Useful. Very useful. Not noble. Useful. He moved. Not early enough to be a clean savior. Early enough to steal the angle from Elias. He slid between two stones, grabbed a smaller beast by the back, and flung it almost under the alpha's paws. The creature stumbled over it, lost half a second, and Zayn entered that gap with his dagger. The alpha still hit him. The impact threw him against the lip of the well.

Air left his lungs. Teeth snapped inches from his face. Lena cried his name. The thread on his shoulder yanked hard, absorbing part of the blow. Without it, his back might have given way. He knew it. He knew it, and for one atrocious split second, his mind still found a way to think: She cost me less than expected. Not a properly formed thought. A reflex. Lena as shock absorber. As resource. As available thread. The alpha tried to tear out his throat. Zayn drove his knife into its eye. The beast screamed.

A real scream, almost human in its pain. And there, something in him opened a little too far. Not the lock. Not a new Decadence. Just him. He could have finished it immediately. He did not. He twisted the blade. Slowly. Not for long. Not enough to be theatrical. Enough to hear the scream change. Enough to feel the beast understand that it was at his mercy. That pleasure was tiny. But it was real. Then Elias arrived, drove back two smaller creatures, and Zayn had to finish before everyone saw too clearly.

He cut deep. The alpha collapsed. [Absorbed soul strength: +1] Current soul strength: 27 Only one point. Almost insulting after all that. But Zayn had gotten something else. A glimpse. Not of power. Of domination. He rose again, covered in black mud, blood, and something thick that smelled like burned iron. Lena was looking at him. Elias too. Mira especially. The field ended quickly after the alpha's death.

The smaller beasts fled toward the grass, but Selka gave an order from the ridge and two archers of the Marches shot them down before they reached the outer ditches. Not out of cruelty. Out of habit. In the Marches, what fled rarely came back better. The third pennant was confirmed. Mission accomplished. No heroes dead. No severe injuries. Two points gained by Zayn over the course of the field. And much more lost elsewhere. Selka finally came down into the basin. She did not congratulate anyone.

She looked first at the bodies. Then the positions. Then the tracks. Her gaze stopped on the alpha, on the ruined eye, on the angle of the blade, on the marks in the mud. She said nothing. Neither did Voss. Maelor had remained above, but Zayn felt his attention like pressure on the back of his neck. Mira approached the alpha's carcass. She crouched. Looked at the eye. Then at Zayn. No accusation. Not yet. But the conclusion was settling into her face. He was not only becoming more effective against the living.

He was becoming more interested when the living suffered. Lena gently withdrew the thread still linking him to her. The contact vanished. Zayn felt the difference in his shoulder immediately. Her hand had trembled when she broke the link. Fatigue. Endurance spent. Not soul strength. He knew that now. She remained 75. Still stable. Still there. And despite that, her gaze looked a little less certain than before. Good. Or bad. He still could not decide which one suited him better. Selka finally spoke.

"You held." Jonah raised a dirty hand.

"I propose we engrave that on our future grave. Short. Plain. Administratively acceptable." Selka ignored him with admirable discipline. She looked at Elias.

"Good center. You cover too much by instinct, but it works." Then Jonah.

"Useful line. Too talkative, but useful."

"I'll take it." Mira.

"Good read. You saw the nest before the full charge." Lena.

"You support too wide. You'll die of exhaustion if you keep trying to pay for everyone." Lena lowered her eyes slightly, but did not protest. Finally Zayn. The silence returned. Selka walked up to him. She did not need system windows. The mud was enough. The blood too. And maybe something else in his face.

"You're better when the target bleeds." Mira did not move. Neither did Lena. Elias stiffened only slightly. Zayn met Selka's gaze.

"Is that a problem?" The commander stayed silent for a second. Then:"That depends on who's holding the leash." The word should have humiliated him. It did. But not only. Because part of him answered at once: For now. Selka almost seemed to see the thought pass. Her face did not change. She turned to Voss and Maelor up above.

"He isn't a failed hero." The wind passed through the basin, faint, carrying the smell of blood. Selka looked back at Zayn.

"He's something that grows better in bad soil." No one answered. Because the sentence was too accurate to challenge immediately. And under Zayn's collar, the mark of Envy pulsed once. Not like pain. Like agreement.