Chương 72: 20 The Wrong Letter

The foremast dug into my back as I sat on the deck, legs splayed out before me. Nothing remained—no energy to rise, no will to stand. Fel dampened my soul. The Undertide soared away, now a distant speck in the sky. Aboard, Naomi's sailors dropped rope ladders on the starboard side. To port, skeletal and living sailors worked together to couple the Revenant's Requiem with the Winter Maiden. An ache, dull and hot, ran down my neck as I twisted my head to stare after the fleeing ghost ship. The Undertide could fly.

As far as I knew, that wasn't part of the legend, and based on Captain Vale's expression, it was probably new to him as well. Naomi barked orders as Submariners began cresting the ship's side and stepping onto solid wood. It'd take the team a minute to assemble. My eyelids dragged, fatigue weighing them down. I rubbed my eyes. My whole arm cramped. I'd asked too much of my body, and as the fires calmed, exhaustion came to claim its due. I opened my terminal, focusing on a particular notification.

<<System Notice: Level Up>> Corin hopped from the Revenant's Requiem over to the Winter Maiden. Sighting me, he grinned and strolled over.

"A new level? Congratulations." I sighed.

"I find the fact that you can see my terminal intrusive." He shrugged.

"Helps when it comes to sniffing out Exploits." He nodded towards the notification.

"Given any thought to how you're going to spend it?" I nodded.

"Too many good ideas, and not enough feat points for them all."

"Are you sitting on any feat points already?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Just the three from level eleven to twelve."

"So you're sitting on what? Twelve inventory slots?"

"Once I lock in my level, yeah."

"You know," he said, shrugging.

"You get one slot per level, multiplied by total User levels. One dip into User would double your carry capacity." My gaze flickered to my level allocation. <<Lvl: User-1; Martial-10>>"Just imagine what you could do with twenty-two slots," Corin said.

"It'd also grant you access to more User feats. You could manipulate your reading on enemy terminals. Stow and pull from inventory at a distance. Specialized inventory slots—so many possibilities."

"I've become much more of a mobility fighter than I ever planned," I pointed out.

"Meta combatives could pair really well with my fighting style."

"You could drop anvils on people's heads!" Corin said cheerfully.

"I'm telling you now, I have never regretted taking another User level." My jaw tensed, and I inhaled sharply.

"It's just, I've had my eye on a few other feats for a long while." Corin turned and sank down to the deck, back to the foremast beside me. A long, satisfied groan of relief escaped him.

"Finally, a minute of not running for our lives."

"I could sleep for a week," I murmured.

"I could eat a whale." My lips twitched up.

"What feats are you looking at?" he asked.

"I've got my eye on two," I said, folding my blistered hands.

"Deflect Projectile and Leap."

"Walk me through your logic," Corin said. I picked at a callus.

"Deflect Projectile would pair really well with my Trajectory Read. At a lesser tier, I'd be able to deflect most conventional arrows and lighter crossbows."

"Not bullets, eh?"

"That doesn't start until regular tier. That'd take four feat points."

"Isn't Leap a little redundant?" Corin asked.

"You've already got your double jump thing—""Air Step," I corrected.

"Right," he said.

"If each step takes a mana point, and your empowered leaps also burn mana, that's just two ways of doing the same thing."

"Not even sort of," I said.

"In terms of momentum and trajectory, Leap would add speed and power variables to my arsenal. Also, it just feels right."

"You're already the hardest guy to hit I know," Corin said.

"I heard you'd always wanted to be a tank, not a controller." The back of my head bumped lightly against the mast, and I closed my eyes, imagining the sun where there was only grey overcast.

"Yeah. But I think what I've become is better than what I planned."

"I'm sure there are many who'd envy that position. You have no idea how many times I've heard Cousins grumble about bum feats that didn't perform as expected."

"That's the thing," I said.

"I had my build planned out. My career track. I was going to become the best duelist the World Archipelago had ever seen. Become an Uncle one day." A wry chuckle escaped me.

"Instead, the world gets the Mongoose."

"Nothing has gone to plan?" Corin said.

"Not at all." I opened my eyes, watching as the sailors finished lashing the two ships together.

"And somehow, I'm okay with that."

"Even the mistakes?" My fingers went to the scar on my wrist.

"I'm still working on that." I selected my level. <<System Notice: Level Up—Martial Level Eleven>> <<System Notice: New Feat—Minor Inventory Boost>>"No feats?" Corin asked.

"I'm banking them," I said.

"Nothing feels quite right just yet." Captain Lorenzo Corvelli crossed to the Winter Maiden, the hem of his long green coat hanging about his calves. The Revenant's leathery hands clasped before him as he turned to take in the Winter Maiden's mortal crew. His lip tugged down, like he'd caught a scent of something putrid.

"So, you got to ride on the Revenant's Requiem first," I said, doing nothing to mask the petulance in my voice. Corin leaned forward.

"It was so great. Wasn't expecting to find the ship sailing under the water."

"I thought she was sunk," I admitted.

"My people in Submar rely heavily upon fish or other animals for transportation," Corin said.

"There is no true underwater equivalent to a ship." He cast a wary glance at the Revenant's Requiem.

"Makes one wonder if such a curse is replicable."

"Huh," I said.

"Underwater ships. Never considered that. But aren't your people really good swimmers?"

"Aren't your people good walkers?" Corin asked.

"Why do you have wagons?"

"Fair." Naomi met with Lance, and they spoke in low tones. Captain Corvelli moved to join them.

"Great," I mumbled.

"Looks like a team meeting."

"We should probably join," Corin said.

"Yup," I agreed.

"Don't want to stand?" he guessed.

"Pretty much." He chuckled and rose with a groan. He turned to me, offering me his hand.

"If I must go, so shall you."

"I hate you so much." I accepted the hand. We limped over to the group. Pain radiated through my back and legs.

"Tony, Corin." Lance nodded towards each of us.

"Hey, Lance," I said.

"You don't look too good." I sighed.

"Yeah, it's been a long day." Serevian joined the huddle.

"Care to catch me up, Captain?" Lance asked. Naomi cleared her throat.

"We know that the Burrow King has been planning to release Zalathor from his crypt, and that he's been recently conspiring with the Bloodwake." Her lips pressed into a tight line for a moment.

"My mother—" she shook her head.

"No— we decided to execute a preemptive strike on the Burrows." She glanced down at her hands.

"We figured that if we could take out King Marrowrend, we'd be removing a tool from the Bloodwake's playbook."

"And things didn't go the way you'd hoped," Lance assumed. She shook her head.

"The Ghoul nests had been largely abandoned."

"Someone warned the Burrow King," Lance said, pinching his chin.

"Could have been one of any number of informants."

"We struck at the nests, but while most of our heavy hitters were underground, the Undertide ambushed us."

"It was flying?" he asked, glancing up towards the clouds where the ship had disappeared. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Sailing through land, sir."

"Right," Lance said thoughtfully as he folded his arms.

"Well, I suppose that explains why I couldn't find her." He paused, considering for a moment.

"What do you know about Vale's motivations? Why is he helping the Bloodwake?"

"We've got nothing, sir. He's offered no explanation, nor has he reached out to negotiate."

"Actually, I might have something," I cut in. Naomi turned to me, her brows pinching together. This was the first moment of silence I'd had to sort through the day's happenings. I'd forgotten something.

"When we were moving to the armory," I started, "we happened upon two of Vale's sailors." I glanced from Corin to Serevian.

"One of them said something strange." Corin straightened.

"That's right. What did he say?" He plucked at his lower lip.

"You will not stop Captain Vale from saving the dead," Serevian recited. He shifted to Lance.

"Uncle, do you have any idea what that might have meant?" Lance's folded arms dropped to his sides. He glanced around, ensuring uninvited ears didn't venture too close. His voice lowered.

"I don't know what's happening to the dead, but I wonder if it has anything to do with our young."

"Our young?" Naomi asked.

"What are you talking about?" Lance exhaled long and slow.

"This is highly sensitive. Don't go around spreading whispers." My head bobbed, and the others nodded in agreement.

"As far as we know, the last pregnant woman gave birth on Paradise a few months ago." My head tilted to the side.

"What?"

"There have been no conceptions that we're aware of throughout the World Archipelago," Lance said.

"It's been a problem for almost a year."

"Infertility?" Naomi said.

"I'm not sure how that's relevant."

"This isn't a new problem," Lance said.

"The midwives brought the issue to the High Family about half a year ago. Of course, they'd been tracking the problem for several months at that point. We have no explanation." He looked directly at me.

"That's exactly when Puppetmaster went rogue and started acting for Dathurul."

"Wait," I said, shaking my head.

"No. The timer, the crack in the sky—that's all Puppetmaster's fault. That started almost two months ago. Are you saying there was something else wrong with the world before that?"

"That's what Puppetmaster has been telling his followers," Lance said.

"We've conducted interrogations, talked to inside sources. He seems to think he can fix it. If something's happening to the dead, it makes me wonder if it might not be connected to the ailment affecting the unborn." The deck went silent. I stared at my toes. It wasn't enough that the sky was breaking, Granduncle was dying, or that something was happening to the dead. Now, posterity was over, too. I laughed. The others turned to me as if expecting an explanation.

"Captain Vale might be the best person to help us figure out what the tex is going on."

"I would have loved to have had a conversation," Serevian said.

"At some point before he burned my city."

"How bad is it?" Lance asked.

"It's bad," Naomi said.

"We couldn't touch the Undertide, but Vale just kept firing on the city."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it on time," Lance said. He turned, looking up at the clouds into which the Undertide had disappeared.

"Now it's looking like we're going to need to call Floating Rock for an air fleet."

"Make sure it's loaded with plenty of salt and cold iron," Naomi said, voice laced with fatigue.

"Do we have to send the Sky Fleet after the Undertide?" Serevian asked suddenly.

"What did we get back on the lead about finding the ship's physical body?"

"Yes," Lance said, nodding.

"Researchers back at the Sanctum of the Seal have been diving through the archives. Consensus is that the Undertide isn't a ghost in the regular sense. It's anchored." He tapped the deck with his toe twice.

"There's definitely a physical hull somewhere. A wreck."

"And destroying this wreck will kill the ship?" Serevian asked.

"If we use fire," Lance specified.

"The wreck acts as a substitute. Think of it as a sleeping man, and the ghost is more like his dreams given form."

"Great, so now objects have spirits?" I asked. Lance stretched his cool-red shoulder.

"It's all based on a construct theory. Especially around Ghost Rock, when enough death, memory, and violence saturate an object, it starts behaving like a vessel with intent. Same principle for a golem, only the animating force isn't a bound spirit, elemental, or command rune."

"What is it then?" Naomi asked.

"Residual cognition," he said.

"Every sailor who died aboard that ship perished inside Ghost Rock. That type of connection leaves a serious mark. Their bond fused into a single operating will."

"The Undertide," I said. He glanced back up at the sky.

"The Undertide," he agreed.

"Captain Vale's use of the Dawn Verdict, Morthrex's death, and the backlash that power channeled—it's a true anomaly."

"So, what are we waiting for?" Serevian asked.

"Set a course. Let's head to Ghost Rock."

"No, hang on," I said, raising a placating hand.

"Are we sure that's what we want to do?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Serevian demanded.

"Vale struck at the Fel Court. Of course, we retaliate."

"I was watching Vale at the end," I said.

"He thought he had lost. We beat him, and he knew it. Maybe he's scared. Maybe he's not a threat anymore."

"Scared?" Serevian echoed.

"Tell me, Antonio, was that before or after he realized he could brine well fly? The only thing that's changed is he can strike from above now, too."

"I just have a feeling," I tried, knowing full well how weak that sounded.

"Are you standing up for that murderer?" Serevian demanded, leaning towards me ever so slightly.

"Standing up for? No," I said.

"I just haven't forgotten the actual mission—to stop the Bloodwake from freeing Zalathor. How are we supposed to do that if we're gallivanting on an entirely different island?"

"I should go," Lance said.

"Investigating the Undertide was my quest. I should see it through." Naomi grimaced.

"Uncle Coralfin, perhaps your abilities are wasted on that quest. The enemy has been two steps ahead of us the entire time we've been here. The only time it seemed we actually had the upper hand was the moment you arrived."

"Ghost Rock is vulnerable," Serevian pressed, shifting from Lance to Naomi.

"Let's burn the boat while Vale's licking his wounds."

"I still have a party member and several men stuck in Ghoul-infested countryside," I said.

"I will not abandon my team." Lance went rigid.

"Where's Bianca?"

"Something happened," Corin said. The Carrion Crown winked into his hands.

"A Ghast shaman put this on her. It turned her feral." Lance motioned, and Corin handed the crown over.

"Cursed object," he said, running his finger along one of the bloodied points turned inward.

"Hmm, based on what I see, the effect should have worn off after you removed it."

"So what's wrong with her?" I asked.

"She's still rabid." He lifted the cursed crown.

"Do you mind if I keep this? Aunt Thistledown might know more about how to deal with it." Corin nodded, and it winked away. Lance turned to Naomi.

"So, what will it be, Captain? The Undertide, or back to Grimton?"

"Cousin, Vale attacked the Fel Court," Serevian reminded her.

"He must pay." Naomi's lips pursed in thought.

"The Undertide got away," she said at length.

"It flies now." Her head shook slowly, then she glanced at me.

"I'm sorry, but we have no real proof it's done in this war. We need it gone." I took a breath—"I heard what you had to say. This is what I have to say. We sail for Ghost Rock, we find the physical hull, and we burn the thing."

"What about the crypt?" I asked.

"The Burrow King is still out there, and the Giant." Everyone turned to me.

"What Giant?" Corin asked.

"Right, none of you were with me when Thashkor mentioned a Giant. I think that's the Wake's agent. More so now that we know Puppetmaster isn't even on Fel Rock."

"Wait." Lance's eyes narrowed.

"How do we know that?" I bit my tongue. Corin jumped in.

"Puppetmaster is a User. He hacked a direct line to Tony's terminal. We tried chatting with him, and he let slip that he's on Drake."

"Could be a deception," Lance pointed out.

"Could be," I agreed, "but Thashkor mentioned a Giant, not Puppetmaster." Corin flinched, icy yellow skin paling.

"What?" I asked. He swore.

"What is it, Corin?" Lance asked.

"Terminals always use Paradise Common letters," he said. He spun to Naomi.

"Can you patch me to the citadel's link stone?" A new group chat opened, with Gravehold added as a contact.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I saw a non-Common letter on a scan I did earlier today. I'm pretty sure it was a Giant rune."

"What—" My eyes widened. What, never seen a Thrimeling before? What had the blue gnome's terminal put for race? Þrimling.

"Glace is a User," I said. Of course. Everyone was dead inside the armory, and he was conveniently the only witness left. Corin nodded. He was masking his true stats and projecting his own. He let a rune slip in. <<Corin: Alert! There's a small blue Thrimeling in Gravehold. He is likely a Bloodwake agent and a User. Be advised, he is very dangerous! >>"We need to turn around," I said, relief and anxiety contesting for dominion within me. <<Gravehold: This is Prince Lucian.

The Bloodwake agent made an attempt on Lord Bloodshackle's life immediately after you left. We stopped him. We have him secured in the dungeon where he can't see the sky. It's under control. >> My shoulders sagged in relief. Corin turned to Naomi.

"Well, at least your stepbrother isn't incompetent." She wiped sweat from her brow.

"Finally," she breathed.

"The tables are turning in our favor." She turned eastward.

"Let's push our initiative. Time to take another player off Puppetmaster's table. We sail for Ghost Rock."

<<Name: Glace Chillbrease>> <<Race: Þrimling>> <<Class: None>> <<Rank: Armory Clerk>> <<Lvl: None>> <<Total: Not synced to ̶O̸r̷u̶a̷b̷o̵r̴a̴>̵≯ ̸ ̶<̵<̵ ̵E̵q̷u̶i̶v̵a̷l̶e̸n̷t̷ ̷L̵e̸v̸e̵l̸: ̵ ̴0̸≯>̶ ████████ ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ ░░░░░░░░ <<Error: Terminal Masking Detected>> <<Rebooting>> <<Rebooting>> <<True Stats Revealed>> <<Name: Glaceskald Icescarn>> <<Race: Frost Giant>> <<Class: Titanform Scaler>> <<Rank: Bloodwake Exploit>> <<Lvl: Physic-10; Martial-6; User-6>> <<Total: 22>> <<Stats: >> Might (STR) — 17 Will (WIS) — 11 Focus (INT) — 09 Resilience (CON) — 14 Grace (DEX) — 08 Cunning (CHA) — 12 The Vampire's boots kicked, half a foot above the ground.

My grip tightened. He tried to gag, but my iron hold didn't even leave room for a gasp. The Vampire's scratching claws drew thin tracks of blood down my arm. My frosty eyes shifted to him—a disgusting undead. My hand jerked. His neck wrenched to the side. I let go, and he collapsed into a heap beside his companions. Two skeletal warriors, two Vampires, and a Shad all lay at my feet. They'd been more confused than alarmed when I'd knocked on the door wearing my small form.

It wasn't until my body swelled, until I stood eight feet tall—head and shoulders over any of them—that they realized what had happened. I turned the link stone over in my palm. I'd arrived at the sending station just in time to get control of their communications. The link stone winked into my inventory. No external alarms. Not until I was done. <<Time to Seal Collapse: 02: 00: 05: 00: 11: 59>>