Robert Vlaho
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[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 16 - Flowing Down the Leg of Life
🕑 Added 2023-08-04 12:59:54 +0000 UTCThe skeleton soon entered the room, clattering to the ground. Although Mark had reflexively adopted a combat pose, it didn’t take him long to turn around and sprint back to his body.
Freddy watched the man vanish, panicking for a different set of reasons. “Why are you here, Bloodshed!?”
The remnant paused at that and cocked its skull at him. “I…” It dropped its head. “I seem to have made a mistake. I will go back immediately.”
“No, you can’t return now! Aaarrgh!” Freddy grabbed his head, mind whirling with thoughts on how to handle this situation.
Before he could land on anything, Mark appeared again, rushing at him and screaming in an incredibly high-pitched tone, his words melting together, “Whaddafuckareyoudoing!?” He tried forcefully pulling Freddy away, but his projection seemed surprisingly tricky to move.
The little blue reaper tried pacifying the mountain of muscle, “Relax, Mark! I know what this is!”
“If you really knew what this was, you’d shit your pants and die! We have to get out of here!”
“No, dude, please let me—”
Mark appeared bewildered, his cartoony eyes practically popping out of his skull as he looked at Freddy and then at Bloodshed, moving his gaze back and forth. “Look, Freddy, I know it seems calm now, but that’s a remnant. Do you get it? Death. We’ll die. It will kill us. It does NOT look peaceful, and their looks are sincere. So. We! Have! To! Go!”
“Bloodshed is obedient to me!” Freddy finally yelled out.
“What does that even mean!?” Mark asked pleadingly as he seemed ready to leave Freddy to fend for himself.
“Bloodshed,” Freddy called, “are you going to kill us?”
The skeleton immediately knelt on the ground, its bony skull kissing the floor as it prostrated itself. “I would never harm the bloody one and his servants.”
“See?”
Freddy was slowly beginning to understand why hanging around in the netherecho was normal. Mark’s jaw hung comically low, reaching nearly halfway down his torso. It was certainly more expressive than reality.
“This… This is insane. An ether construct obsessed with serving someone? I’ve never heard of that in my life.”
“Really?” Freddy was genuinely surprised to hear that.
Mark nodded in confirmation, and after shooting a squinted glare at the remnant, he turned to Freddy. “Do you have any idea how useful that is?”
“Honestly, no.”
“Hooo, boy,” Mark breathed out as he slumped on the ground. “If I listed all the possible ways you could use that, I’d be here for far too long, so I’ll just sum it up for you,” he said as he looked up at Freddy. “You might as well be a god in the netherecho.”
“You gotta be exaggerating,” he said disbelievingly.
“You’d be surprised at how little.”
“Can you give me an example?” Freddy asked.
“Alright,” Mark agreed. “Here is an example for you. Say you have a powerful ally, hypothetically. If they entered the netherecho with you to help subjugate a vestige—”
“It wouldn’t work.” Freddy finished the sentence.
The guide he had read was rather explicit in stating that the usefulness of external help in the netherecho was minimal. It was true that one could help another indirectly, or, at the very least, keep one safe, but it wasn’t so easy when it came to handling an ether construct.
If someone beat a vestige half to death, it would be impossible for anyone else to coerce it into their soul. Freddy had been aware of this already, but he had never tried subjugating a vestige and hadn’t yet needed to, so he was unaware of how much Bloodshed could help.
Well, truth be told, he had realized that it must be helpful, but his default was to always assume that if something sounded too good to be true, it was.
“Exactly,” Mark confirmed. “However, this thing, on the other hand,” he said with a quick nod at Bloodshed, “can subjugate vestiges for you. And it doesn’t count as external help.”
That was a lot to take in. Judging by what little Freddy knew of ether construct subjugation, something like that could practically skip the entire process.
“I can think of many other uses, but we must first discuss something else. There is a reason why I invited you to the netherecho,” Mark said.
“Why?”
“Because it is practically impossible for someone to spy on what you’re doing here.”
The implication of what Mark said sent shivers down Freddy’s spine. “Do you mean…?”
“No, no,” Mark denied. “I don’t think anyone is spying on us. I’m doing this just in case.”
Freddy waited for the young man to continue.
The seated Mark sighed deeply. “Shit, dude, I just learned today that you’re signed with Madam.”
“What? You didn’t know that?”
“No. I had no idea. I learned it from a rumor at the gym. Listen,” he said, adopting a grim expression, “nobody sane would dare hurt you if you’re under her protection. Unfortunately, there are a lot of lunatics in power.” He then pointed at Bloodshed. “Is this thing related to why Madam needs you?”
Freddy momentarily contemplated whether disclosing that would break his NDA and eventually nodded in confirmation. “Sort of. Tangentially, at least.”
“Then it's probably worse than I thought. Look, you have six months until you expire.”
“Expire?”
“As far as I’ve heard, that’s when you’ll participate in Madam’s show. Many will learn who you are and seek to put you down however they can.”
“What!? Why?”
“If there is anything high society hates, its social climbers,” Mark said, biting his lip in frustration. “I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.”
“So what the hell do I do?” Freddy said, a strange whimper accompanying his voice
“First, calm down. You have a ticket out of all of this. Do you know what the passage you’ve discovered leads to?”
Freddy nodded.
“There will be an expedition. You have to join it.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“It is. Incredibly so. Naturally, you would only get a role suitable for your level of competence; however, the risk would still be there. But,” Mark said, lifting a finger, “every major power on the planet will participate. You will be extremely low on the priority list of political targets, and in contrast, putting you down won’t be worth the attention it would attract.”
“What do you mean by ‘putting me down?’ Will someone try to kill me!?”
Mark started but paused, unable to deny it. “Maybe.”
“Oh, fuck, man.”
Suddenly, a gravelly, deep voice spoke up, “Worry not, Master,” said Bloodshed, “I will be there to protect you.”
Mark pointed a finger at it. “That thing.” And then at Freddy, “and your healing talent will be your saving grace.”
“Alright, just—” Freddy froze. “How do you know about my talent?”
Mark’s eyes literally rolled into his skull. “Your acne scars nearly vanished after using your ‘magical cream’ twice. Do you take me for an idiot?”
“Fair enough,” Freddy conceded. “Shit, though, how am I gonna hide it from the doctor then?”
“Look,” Mark brought his attention back, “that is not the priority now. You need to become competent enough in the next six months,” he said, accenting the necessity. “Not just anyone will be allowed to go, and if you’re judged to be a burden, you won’t be allowed in.”
“Oh, great. And if I’m not allowed in, some jealous piece of shit will try to kill me! Great, hahaha,” Freddy said, laughing shakily. “That’s just my life! Just what I fucking need! Every goddamn time I reach a puddle, I have to cross a desert next!”
“You just have to—!”
“I can’t!” He screamed hysterically. “I fucking can’t, Mark!” His projection began crying large, cartoony tears that disappeared into the ground. “I am stupid, and I suck at everything!”
“If you work—!”
“I can’t do that, either!” He declared. “I don’t have what it takes! I wasn’t born into resources and a good education. And I don’t even have the grit to fucking work for it! No… No wonder… Who could bear the shame of having a son like I!?” He shakily crumpled to the ground. “I am misfortune incarnate, Mark. Maybe it would be best if someone put me out of my misery.”
Mark looked like he kept trying to say something, but every time his mouth opened, it closed again.
“Master,” Bloodshed called and began walking toward him.
Mark turned to the creepy remnant, swallowing and causing a prominent bulge to travel down his throat. He stood frozen, clearly unable to stop the remnant but visibly contemplating trying to do it anyway.
“You are indeed the incarnation of misfortune—”
That actually got Freddy to chuckle a bit. Even an ether construct literally obsessed with him agreed with his words.
“—to all of your enemies.” It stopped right over his body, gently caressing a bony hand over Freddy’s hood, shocking him from his self-deprecating state.
“When I was born, Master, you were fated to die. Yet you’re still alive.”
“Shut up, Bloodshed,” he said, inching away from it. Then, seeking some comfort in humor, he joked, “You’re violating my NDA.”
“Do not be afraid, my Lord,” it consoled him, bowing right before him. “Anyone that seeks your life will lose theirs instead. I wager my existence on it.” The bloody bone man didn’t take long to make the mood extremely awkward.
Mark used the opportunity to very poignantly gesture at their bodies in an attempt to get as far from the massive remnant as possible.
Rather than leave the netherecho, Freddy turned to the remnant. “Hey, Bloodshed, please wait in the corner over there.”
“As you wish.” And the skeleton obeyed.
Freddy stood for a while with his back turned to Mark, and eventually gathered the bravery to speak, “Sorry for offloading all of that on you, haha…”
“No… I… Sorry I couldn’t comfort you. I had nothing to say that wouldn’t be hypocritical of me.”
“You’re a good guy,” he stated. “And don’t worry, I’m not giving up on myself. I just needed to get that out of my system.” Freddy turned around, and Mark’s breath caught upon seeing the shimmer under the pitch-black hood of his robes.
“Yesterday I… I realized something. When I had to use some willpower, I found it lacking. My muscles are weak and sick from lack of use. And so is my determination.” His words petered out as he glanced at his gloved hand. “Does that mean that I’ve never really used it? Or maybe I just wasn’t using willpower as much as I thought?
“For so long, I thought I was working hard and doing my best. But I merely confused living a difficult life with fighting for a better one. Do you know how it feels to realize that?” He asked, his voice shivering again. “I mean, who am I even? I thought I knew who I was, but now, I think I was just delusional. I didn’t see nature for so long, not because I didn’t have the time, but because I never pushed myself to do it. I am weak and sick because I was too lazy to stay physically active.
“I’ve just been cruising through, fully convinced that I’m tough shit when I was actually diarrhea, flowing down the pants of life.”
“Pfff—!” Mark snorted and clamped his mouth shut. “I’m so sorry, but—”
“Hahaha, what the fuck did I just say?” Freddy laughed.
“Hahahahaha,” Mark chuckled as he nearly bent over. “Oh God, that’s something, dude.”
They laughed it out for a while, and Mark finally stepped over, placing a giant hand on Freddy’s robed shoulder. “But I think I understand your problem a bit better now. You’re right. Willpower is exactly like muscle. If you don’t use it, it won’t develop.”
Freddy slumped a bit, but Mark shook him out of it before he could slip into his self-pitying state. “Nuh-uh, none of that. Keep your head high. Willpower can grow. You’ve learned something new about yourself today, and you shouldn’t use that as an excuse to run away from your problems. They won’t go away on their own.”
The depressed reaper looked up, nodding his head slightly.
“Don’t worry, though. You have my help, a good talent, and that creepy thing that’s… looking at me from the corner. We have to do something about that. Wait, be right back.”
Mark jogged to his body and vanished into it. Moments later, his body vanished as well. Moving things didn’t appear within the netherecho unless their movement was repetitive. Which begged the question of how Bloodshed could interact with his body even when he was outside.
Did it have some sort of strange connection to him?
Before long, a large opened plastic bag flashed into existence beside Freddy, likely placed there by Mark, who also entered the netherecho and turned to Freddy. “Can you tell that thing to get in the bag?”
Freddy nodded and told Bloodshed to get inside. After it did, they left the netherecho, and Mark walked over to the plastic bag on the floor. He promptly closed it and crumpled it into a small ball.
“No! Bloodshed!” Freddy panicked. “Why the fuck would you do that!?”
“Relax!” Mark raised his hands to calm Freddy. “It's safe! Trust me, killing a remnant isn’t that easy! The bag has kind of disappeared in a way that I can’t easily explain, but! You can rerelease the remnant when you put it back down and open it again. As long as it willingly stays inside the bag, of course.”
“Whaaat?” Freddy gaped. “I wish I knew that sooner. That’s really convenient.”
“It most certainly is. Now, I must hurry since I’ll miss my ride home. We’ll talk tomorrow, and for today, just do what you think you should.”
They shook hands and parted ways. Freddy was left with a lot to think about.
There was no way he could tolerate waiting around, especially not after hearing what Mark had to say, but he was hesitant. There was resistance to going to those woods, revulsion to the thought of embarrassing himself again.
What was it that the young man had told him? Willpower was indeed like a muscle?
If that was so, then…
It was about time he started working it out.
***
The only reason Bloodshed’s actions weren’t causing bloodshed was because vestiges couldn’t bleed. The pond that had until recently been infested with nasty stuff was now free of such invaders and literally bursting with water affinity wisps.
Freddy was pleased to see this as he left the netherecho and began a session of meditative gathering. This time, when his soul started hurting, he kept pushing on. As far as willpower exercises were concerned, this might be the best one. No matter how much Freddy pushed, it wouldn’t hurt him in any real way. Total inability to continue preceded soul injuries by quite a bit.
That wasn’t to say that he could reach such a state just because he felt motivated. However, as one wisp after another flowed into his soul, reaching nearly thirty consumed, with the pain threatening to knock him out, it was clear that he was willing to try.
Finally collapsing, he breathed heavily, experiencing the flavor of torment specific to soul exhaustion. It didn’t feel good, to say the least. Once it went away, he felt thoroughly drained, and he wanted to sleep.
But he delved into the netherecho instead.
The water vestiges he had attracted were packed into a dense cocoon around him, and he hopped around collecting them until they grew scarce.
Delving the netherecho with his soul in such a state only drained him further, but he mustered the will to get up.
As soon as he did, a peculiar thought wormed its way into his mind.
‘I’ve done quite a bit today. I’m pretty proud of myself already. Maybe I can stop it here.’
But before such thoughts could take root, he crushed them and walked over to a nearby tree.
Mark had told him to do what he thought he needed to. And after careful pondering, he landed on one pretty obvious option. His pain tolerance was just pathetic. Hell, even his ‘vague discomfort’ tolerance wasn’t all that impressive.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the amount of pain one had experienced was a suitable measure of their overall power, if only a vaguely approximate one.
So there was only one thing left to do. It was time to feel some pain, he thought, as he got ready to punch a damn tree.
He just limply swung at it with his left, trying not to break the hand in the process. Unfortunately, the nonexistent form, coupled with a lack of confidence, resulted in a middle finger injury that hurt like hell. He shook his hand in a futile attempt to make it go away.
“Mmmm, yeah, that sucks.”
The thought of quitting leaped at the opening, but Freddy repelled it.
“No! None of that shit! You’re a man! Who’s a man? You! Now, be a man, and get ready to punch some damn wood!” He tried slapping his face in a ‘manly’ attempt to psych himself up and, unfortunately, decided to do it with his left hand, resulting in a pang of pain spreading through his arm.
“Fuu—No, no, pain good, it good, yes,” he tried convincing himself, squeezing hard to stop his tears from surfacing.
Now, he readied his right fist, squeezing it much harder and preparing himself for a serious punch. A punch that fluttered out into a not-so-manly pose as he realized something—how would he swing the machete if both his hands were messed up?
No problem. He’d kick the tree instead. Landing kicks with shoes on wasn’t particularly painful, so he just hit his with his shin instead—
“Aaaaaah!” He yelped as he collapsed, aggressively rubbing the impact area. He breathed like a woman giving birth, then groaned with gritted teeth and finally settled on something akin to caveman sounds, cradling his legs as if it were an injured child.
It took quite a while for the pain to subside, and once he got up, he decided he’d just do punches and figure it out later.
“Okay, Fred, you got this.”
His left hand still hurt like hell, with a lot of the pain flashing up his forearm, but he reasoned that whatever that was would go away after some plant molestation.
This time, he ensured that his fists were sealed tight, even if he didn’t have the strength to keep them like that for long. Still, after the first punch, he realized it wasn’t that bad. As long as his fist didn’t land awkwardly, he could kind of do it. He started with feeble punches and gradually amped them up.
Occasionally, he’d land with his knuckle or stub a finger and reel in pain, but he pushed through it and kept going, sweating like mad. It wasn’t long until he noticed something. The faintest flickers of lifesteal could be felt from this. He clearly wasn’t gonna kill the tree with punches like these, but it was enough to tell that he was actually doing some damage.
His talent felt good to use. Really good. At first, that wasn’t something he actively noticed, but now he realized it was kind of addicting. As he acclimated to the pain in his hands, his punches grew ever stronger, seeking more life from the unmoving plant.
More. More. He wanted more. Suddenly, his left fist landed close to the hardest he could punch, and he felt something crack.
***
Mark’s head was cluttered with thoughts of all that happened today as he made his way off the floating carriage and toward the platform that would take him up to his home island.
He didn’t know why he went out of his way to help Freddy like that. Mark didn’t see himself as a particularly noble individual, and in this case, he had little to gain by getting involved.
Perhaps it was just as Freddy had said a few days ago. It’s hard to ignore the suffering of someone your age. People were like that. All you needed was one thing in common and—
“Mr. Afronte?” A somewhat pretentious voice came from behind, and Mark turned to face it.
A slick, grey-suited, short man with hair gelled to high hell and combed back called for him, and Mark already knew this person was here to sell him something. Usually, he would just ignore him, but given that he somehow knew Mark’s name, this was potentially problematic.
He’d hear the man out, if anything, to see whether he should report him to the authorities.
“I’m so glad to have run into you,” the man said, acting familiar. “I was just on my way to your address.”
Well, that made things even worse.
“With all due respect, sir, I would like to know why you are stepping into contact with me,” Mark said politely, but with enough edge to make anyone realize that was little more than a veiled threat.
Anyone except this man, apparently. “Yes, yes, yes, I will get to that shortly.” The man pulled clearly decorative glasses out of his pocket and put them on, adjusting them with his middle finger and pulling some paper out. “I’m a journalist, and I’d just like to ask you a few questions.”
That somehow simultaneously made Mark more annoyed yet more relaxed. At least that explained his sliminess and privacy intrusion. Now, it was time for this man to berate him about his time at the academy and—
“At your new job, I believe you are working with a man by the name of Freddy Stern. Is that correct?”
Comments
Anki
Just caught up, so worth it. I read everything on royal road and knew I had to get more :)
Beeees!
Uh oh, the vultures are already circling. Also, bloodshed is the best!
