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[LitF] 42. Rest and Preparation
🕑 Added 2023-08-06 19:26:49 +0000 UTCPrevious Chapter - Table of Contents - Next Chapter
[A/N: I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I simply didn't have the time to write. The last week was chaotic.
Reminder: no chapter next Saturday because I'll be traveling..]
"Boring," Sophie concluded a few minutes after they reached the amusement park.
"Annoying," she judged the traffic jam as her car barely moved.
"Stinky," she evaluated the nightclub.
Arthur agreed with her assessments. The nightclub was especially bad. No matter how much he controlled his sense of smell, the odor of sweaty people mixed with the bathrooms, vomit, and perfume was revolting.
Her disappointment saddened him at first. He wanted their time together to be great. His sadness disappeared after they found a room, and she showed him how she planned to deal with her frustrations.
To be fair, the city wasn't all bad. A restaurant on top of a skyscraper had a great view of the sun setting behind the sprawling city, the art gallery was unique, and Sophie was delighted by their kart racing experience. The food also kept pleasantly surprising them, and Sophie loved going shopping.
They had a lovely time overall.
* - * - *
Sophie and Arthur were taking a make-out break after exploring the city when she decided she had neglected Mr. Mustache too much, and it was time to make up for it.
"You can do it, Mumu!" she cheered while running around the room with a plastic stick with a feathered ball on one end.
Mr. Mustache, the wannabe hunter, followed with the certainty that he would eventually conquer his prey. The offending ball might be fast, but he was a cat. What manner of creature could ever hope to win over such a magnificent being?
To be fair to the little one, he was still recovering from undernourishment, yet had successfully hunted food in the wild before. He was fast enough for an unawakened. The times Sophie let him catch the ball further emboldened him.
That was just the latest game in the past four hours. Arthur didn't mind the pause in their activities. He watched happily while reading a book and was endeared by Sophie's sweet and innocent joy.
He became even happier whenever she asked him to put Mr. Mustache to sleep so they could have some privacy.
* - * - *
Hours turned into days, and the time to leave the city approached.
Graham returned, and Arthur learned of no incident involving his grand knight. It became Tamara's turn to take a day off, and she also came back without issue.
The city's local politicians and self-important figures sent new inquiries, and Arthur assured them he would leave soon. However, as their last night approached, it became clear that the League wouldn't send any message. The prince didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do.
His time with Sophie was marvelous. It was also constantly filled with comfortable silence. As passionate as they were, they had been in the same closed place for a very long time. There was only so much to be said about what they thought of the novelties they found in the city or themselves.
Arthur and Tamara often took the chance to read, but to his surprise, Graham and Sophie took a different approach to getting used to the modern world.
"I'm too old to care about any of this, sir," Graham claimed. "I can speak their language. That's enough to live and protect you. I'll learn the rest as I go."
The prince replied, "Is that enough to avenge Charlotte?"
Sadness and anger flashed through his eyes but were not directed at Arthur. It had been almost ten years since the man's wife had passed away, but he still didn't deal well with her name being mentioned. That was one of the cons of an awakener's firm will. If they loved, they loved; forgetting a life companion wasn't easy.
Graham's anger was enough of an answer. It meant he hadn't forgotten or given up his soul vow to investigate the afterlife and strike Fate itself down if he didn't approve of what he found. The vow would injure him if he ever changed his intentions.
The man only replied, "We'll see, sir," and the prince didn't delve deeper into it.
Surprisingly, Sophie's perspective wasn't too different from the grand knight.
"Do you want me to lend you a book?" Arthur asked as they lay exhausted on the bed. "Just pick a subject."
"Nah. I'm fine, thanks."
Arthur hesitated before replying, "You're High House Brimstone's inheritor. Shouldn't you be more worried about understanding the world?"
She smiled at him, taking his words as the concern they wore, not a critique. "Am I not doing that with you, Archie? We're seeing things and talking about them. I like to live things, experience them. And House Brimstone will cease to exist when we marry, so you're the one who needs to worry about all that."
The prince found her unquestionable faith in him simultaneously flattering and heavy. She believed in him so much.
Fate, he would better never betray her trust.
Sophie and Graham weren't entirely wrong; they just took the situation their own way. Sure, exhaustively learning about the culture one was inserted into was advised, but as Sophie said, reading about it wasn't crucial. The two could speak and protect themselves, and they would learn enough by living in that culture. Unlike Arthur, who aimed to help the League, their ambitions didn't require them to invest much time learning everything they could.
Furthermore, they deserved a break. Graham hadn't even been given enough time to mourn; he had suffered and done enough. Sophie had lost her youth and early adulthood, then learned her family was gone. They were entitled to just be themselves unless the world required them to kill monsters, which was every awakener's ultimate obligation.
In a way, Arthur and Tamara were the weird ones to focus so much on learning.
Speaking of the maid, she didn't share their disinterest. She read law books, devoured legal treaties, and studied judicial decisions.
"I want to know exactly what we can and can't do, master," she explained. "To assist you when needed."
She left unsaid that if she ever had to do anything unsavory, she needed to know what to hide and how to better do it.
For his part, Arthur first focused on situating himself, but there was only so much he could learn from books. He had already read a lot during the trip to Shantal and finished getting the gist of the world on another day. What he learned corroborated his belief that things were bad for the League but not that terrible.
The prince's greatest surprise was what he found in economic laws. It turned out that he did not owe any human any money. The books on human economic history introduced a concept called debt prescription supposedly present in most nations. Simply put, so much time had passed that the prince wasn't obligated to pay any debts.
He didn't know if the elves or dwarves shared the understanding because books about them were difficult to find. However, it was safe to assume that unless the Fated Races were much more divided than he understood, they would have similar laws.
Of course, not legally owing money didn't mean he would ignore his obligations. It was unethical for him not to do his best to repay House Boria's creditors. Things had been different when the debts had been accrued; a House's debts weren't forgiven like this. He would uphold himself to those expectations, not nowadays' sensibilities.
Arthur read everything Tamara had bought, then purchased a few books on magitech—only to force himself to stop a few minutes after he started reading them.
Magic technology turned out to be a deep topic, an entire school of magic and science that far surpassed the little he knew about enchantment. It excited him but wasn't as important as understanding the world or growing stronger.
So, as he had understood all he could from books, he went for the next topic: strength.
Arthur spent a few hours buying books about physics, metallurgy, biology, chemistry, biochemistry, pharmacy, medicine, wildlife, animal husbandry, veterinary, botany, farming, martial arts, guns, military subjects, and even spirituality. Through them, he hoped to improve his comprehension of metal, life, and death.
The prince was also curious about the soul. It was an intriguing subject he knew nothing about, yet it should be related to life and death. Unfortunately, although the League had checked on his soul to measure how long he had been outside the world, no bookstore sold anything on the subject.
Arthur started reading from the basics, so there were no improvements to his elemental understanding for now. Still, the fact that he found a few novelties even there, albeit rarely, made him confident that that was the right way forward.
* - * - *
Their last night in the city arrived. Tamara had replied to the Commissioner of Cultural Affairs, as Arthur asked. It resulted in a private booth to listen to the orchestra on their last night in Shantal.
They went with no expectations.
They couldn't have been more wrong.
The concert hall was immense and beautiful, a half-circle with dozens of private booths on the walls, all white with sculpted decorations of lions and geometric shapes. Thousands of red seats sprawled throughout the ground floor, the same color as the stage's curtains. An intricate painting of circular elven-looking shapes covered the ceiling. Golden details were everywhere, from the curtains' trims to the lights, giving everything a cozy yet refined ambiance.
The Laston Philharmonic had one hundred people among strings, brass, woodwinds, and percussion.
When all sounds came together, they created magic like none Arthur had ever seen.
It didn't take long for tears to stream down Sophie's face.
The program Arthur had been given explained the orchestra was playing "classical music" today. Despite supposedly being outdated and antiquated, the style was a novelty to the four awakeners and mesmerized them.
The prince had been told connoisseurs took into account the song's history and the composer's intent to determine how well the musicians were performing. He didn't need any of that to admit the philharmonic had gripped his heart firmly.
How could mere sound do that?
He knew how; of course, he did. The intricacies of it were clear to him. His life comprehension was at 45%. He probably understood better than any other person in the world how one's brain could react to the right frequencies and trigger emotional responses.
But knowing and living it were different things.
Arthur had listened to great performances as crown prince. He had been too young to appreciate it then, but revisiting his memories let him recognize the performers' skills. An awakener musician was overwhelmingly superior to any single musician currently on stage, but that was part of the issue. There had been too much focus on individuality and technical ability in the past. Conveying one's emotions through songs was left for the unrefined unawakened, whose music wasn't as developed—or at least, it had never reached Arthur.
Theoretically, a biomancer musician could make anyone feel much more if they used magic on the listeners, but that wasn't done. Who would take such a risk for mere entertainment?
And, Fate, who could ever imagine "mere entertainment" could be like this?!
Arthur's people had been victims of the circumstances. Awakeners had lived to fight for the world and primarily developed their military power and its related sciences. Although the Golden Kingdom and the League had been civilized enough, that had been a recent development; they had still been heavily influenced by the terrible events of the recent past. The greatest evidence was how Arthur was a one-quarter high elf. His paternal grandfather, a pure human, had married his pure high elf grandmother as demanded by the League when the Great War ended. It had been done to prevent the very racial division of modern times.
Now, a new world was bared to him. The magnificent melody bypassed rational thought and struck straight at his heart. There was no need for lyrics, no words to process and sympathize with or find similar to his history. Every note brought forth a primal response, unlocking feelings that bubbled up from the depths they had been tightly locked in.
It was as if the music wrote wordless lyrics unique to him. There was no need for words because his life was the lyrics he was listening to.
The piece entered a decrescendo, and Arthur pitied his long-gone people for their arrogant ignorance. He pitied himself and the three with him for all they had lost. He found gratitude for all the extraordinary new things they could experience in this new world of unexpected marvels.
He recalled his life, difficulties, and happy moments. The past and present blended into an ethereal mix that revealed he wasn't too different from what he had been; he was still aiming at the future. He always was. Arthur had never been one to just be in the present like his future wife and grand knight.
He couldn't help but notice how most of his happiness these days was related to Sophie. His every living moment was focused on some responsibility, and she was a breath of fresh air.
Fate, he loved her so much.
All his feelings danced around each other, and so did his memories. Arthur found self-enlightenment about his life and, by extension, understood life itself. Insights and comprehensions that had previously eluded him became so evident that he couldn't understand how he had failed to connect the dots before.
He gained so much from it that he could barely believe the harvest in comprehension percentage.
| Life: +2% → 47%
| +200 free stat points → 200 total
Then came death.
Arthur had never genuinely acknowledged how his life was all about death. He lived with one goal: to kill his enemies. He had killed countless monsters and had lost his loved ones. Yet, he had never thought about how it marked him. How it defined his existence—as it did most awakeners'.
Theirs was an existence of death. They never stopped killing. Arthur's hands would always be tainted by blood.
He didn't regret it; someone had to protect the world. But it took a toll. It had defined awakener society and, by extension, the world. It had prevented music like this from ever coming to bear.
It was sad—and acknowledging the good and bad was freeing and illuminating in a singular way. Together with the "reverse gains" from his life comprehension, it pushed his death comprehension one percent further.
| Death: +1% → 28%
| +100 free stat points → 300 total
The books he had read helped, but the unique experience pushed his elemental comprehension that last step. Sophie had been right. So had Tamara and Graham, for that matter. There was no substitute for experience.
The prince added the stat points to wisdom, pushing it to 9,950, but he couldn't care less about that right now.
Arthur drank from the pinnacle of unawakened creativity, firmly gripped his suitress's hand, and cried like a little child.
* - * - *
"Damn rich humans think they own the place," a guy with orc genes whispered to a girl with goblin genes. "They always do."
Arthur had learned to recognize half-monster genes with Howard. Despite the two people's ancestry, it wasn't visible in their physique. They were so far removed from it that only magic or knowledge of their background would reveal their bloodline.
They weren't in the booth; the prince felt them with his domain. No one had dared talk to the four awakeners after the concert ended. They remained petrified in their booth, staring at nothing, their thoughts swirling wildly.
The two cleaners had finished with the rest of the theater and were waiting downstairs for the four to leave. They weren't in sight; they kept to a servants' corridor. And they certainly didn't know awakeners could hear that far.
"They ain't all human," the girl in her late teens replied. "I took a peek. The pretty girl is half-vamp, I'm sure."
"Really," the middle-aged guy replied with surprise. "Lucky girl. Ya figure the richie likes men too?"
The girl giggled. "Stop dreaming. I'll take a nap. Wake me up when they leave."
Arthur sighed. "I hate to be the bringer of bad news, but we seem to have overstayed our welcome." He stood up and offered Sophie a hand. "Milady."
She smiled at him as she took his hand and stood up. Her eyes were filled with tenderness. Whatever lyrics the song had written in her heart, they had spoken of him.
"Thank you, milord," she said. "Let us meet the poor servants we inconvenienced. Do you think a few hundred dollars would properly portray our regret and repay them for their time?"
Ah, she had heard it too. The prince hadn't been the only one awoken by the random offense.
For all Arthur had read about the modern economy and work laws, he hadn't considered seeking forgiveness from the cleaners. Sophie, on the other hand, had only heard him talk about how people had jobs nowadays and could already see past their servant status. The two unawakened were supposed to work only so many hours a day, yet here they were. Her choice to experience things rather than read about them didn't hinder her adaptation.
The prince replied, "We can offer it to them and observe their reactions, I suppose."
A few hundred dollars was about a tenth to a fifth of the current minimum wage. It should be enough, but he had no experience with that. This was different from the small bribes to ask people to do something for you before they did it.
It turned out the money was more than enough. The two servants became so elated that the girl almost threw herself at Sophie for a hug. Fortunately, Graham got on the way in time.
Grateful unawakened or not, any stranger was a potential threat. Now that Arthur and Sophie had bedded each other, their relationship was more or less binding. House Boria's grand knight would protect her unless ordered otherwise.
The cleaner had gotten very embarrassed about it, but Arthur just led his people away.
There was no reason to waste more time with them.
Sophie may or may not have had a point when she said he wanted her more than she wanted him—not that she didn't do her best to show otherwise once the bedroom doors closed.
* - * - *
On their last morning in the city, Arthur and Sophie were having breakfast in the penthouse as usual when a commotion on the street caught his attention. An unawakened wouldn't notice it all the way up in the skyscraper, but all four awakeners could easily hear it, and both his maid and knight had already investigated.
In fact, those people were being so loud that only being distracted by Sophie explained why he hadn't noticed them before. Something to be careful about in the future.
"The media is camped outside, master," Tamara explained. "They are waiting for you."
Arthur was honestly surprised at how long it took the reporters to find his whereabouts—or maybe to become bold enough to be as rude as they were on his last day in the city. Some people had recognized him and Sophie, especially yesterday, as the news slowly traveled the world.
The prince wouldn't talk to them at this time. He had said enough, and it was the League's turn to provide statements.
Speaking of which, he asked, "Still no news of the League?"
Awakeners never stopped needing to sleep. They could go without it for longer, maybe even weeks, if they pushed themselves, but a missed night still affected their attention span and physical fitness. No matter how great one's vitality, there was no substitute for a night's rest. Arthur found even his ascender magic wasn't enough for that—at least, not yet, though he saw signs that it might be within his reach someday.
Said signs came primarily from his understanding of animal hibernation and elven meditation. Elves didn't sleep like almost all other races in the world. Instead, they got into a unique meditative state that triggered the same physical and mental regenerative abilities of proper sleep. It was even more efficient than sleeping, too, taking them considerably less time to recover. But the way it happened was almost mystical, and no amount of observation while Tamara did it could enlighten him about some of the trickiest parts of the ability.
Part of the reason was that the skill—which wasn't a Fate skill—was linked to one's bloodline. You had to be over 50% elf to use it. The prince couldn't figure out how that was possible, even though he could mimic most monsters' innate abilities nowadays, including vampires'.
The elves' only disadvantage was their inability to dream. Any elf would claim that didn't matter, but they were known for being less emotional than humans and dwarves. They saw it as an advantage, but Arthur begged to differ after living what he had with Sophie.
Whatever the case, Tamara was often awake at night. She only meditated for limited periods after telling someone to keep watch while she was at it. She used the extra time to become extra aware of her surroundings, as battle maids were trained to do.
"No news this night, master," she replied. "But I haven't checked today's newspapers yet. They'll only arrive at the hotel in half an hour."
"We'll wait for them, then. Meanwhile, discreetly inquire with the media about any news. If there's nothing, we'll proceed to Avaria as planned."
"Yes, master."
They would reach Avaria that day, but not the old capital or the dungeon. Arthur was tempted to delay their departure until he got an extra percent to his comprehension and pushed his wisdom to the 10,000-point limit cap, but it came with too many complications. For one, the music-fueled enlightened had expended all his remaining unused potential to quickly improve two of his three elements. Moreover, giving the League extra time to prepare might be unadvised if they ended up preparing to kill him.
More importantly, he didn't know how long it might take to understand another percent, and he was growing anxious about the dungeon. The thing had been around for a long time, sucked mana from the world, and could destroy dungeons. What else could he do that they didn't know about?
The sooner it was gone, the better.
Neither the newspapers nor the reporters had any new information about the League. The media had come to ask Arthur for details. Howard's victims had been swallowed by the League, and no one knew what had happened to them. It was the cause of much speculation.
Arthur left without saying anything to them. They attempted to get on the Bello's way when it left the hotel's garage, but Arthur had no qualms about interpreting them as a risk. They were too many and too close. So, he pushed them away with his magic.
It created a small outbreak of rage, most of it staged, and a lot of fear. Using magic against them was an attack. But mobbing someone was also threatening in Arthur's book, so he didn't care.
Let the world take his actions as they would.
Sophie drove more responsibly this time around, unwilling to make things hard on unawakened police officers for no reason. That wasn't to say she respected any speed limits, but she didn't invade the opposing lane where it was forbidden or make any dangerous overtake when it might scare another driver. Progress.
They crossed Boshia in six hours and finally laid eyes on their destination.
When going to Shantal City, they crossed into Boshia with ease. The borders between Luvy and Boshia were barely marked by a sign. However, getting into Avaria wasn't as easy.
The whole Regulated Region was surrounded by a stone wall a few dozen yards high, with warning signs everywhere. The top was filled with barbed wire, plus one automated turret every five yards. The entire wall was enchanted and not just for extra resistance. Some embedded blue crystals would glow yellow and then red if any unauthorized person stayed within ten yards for too long. Whoever didn't leave after the lights became red or tried to climb the wall would first be pushed back by an air blast. If that wasn't enough, or if anyone tried to go over or attacked the wall, the offenders were met with bullets and magic jets of fire.
The Peace Wall had been created as a statement after the League took control of the late Golden Kingdom. It used to be scouted and guarded by countless awakeners, but the turrets had replaced most of them. A hundred years ago, critics had called it the Death Wall, and just about every nation spoke against such a widespread use of weapons and enchantments that killed without assessing nuanced situations or asking questions. Some were just the Free Fate Movement that wanted Avaria for themselves, but many were legitimately worried about it.
From what Arthur gathered, the outrage wasn't worse only because when criminals used the wall as a convenient execution tool that left no traces leading to them, the League tracked them down anyway and made an example out of their execution. After that, most people accepted the League's claim that it was watching and aware, even if dispatching an awakener to deal with a situation might take long. The League had also pushed the blame back on the surrounding nations about any incidents. It tyrannically stated that the Peace Wall should be treated as a potential natural disaster, and it was the other nations' responsibility to care for their citizens.
Even so, fifty years ago, they had added a chest-high concrete barrier fifteen yards from the wall, with a grated fence on top. It was also filled with warning signs, plus rotating red lights, to make it less likely for non-sapient or stupid passersby to get attacked. The wall's air blast couldn't push cars or big animals like bears away, and back then, tragedies had started to pile up in an obviously ill-intentioned manner.
The roads leading to Avaria had highly-guarded checkpoints with at least a dozen awakeners each, plus another few dozen unawakened. The League controlled access to all high-mana regions, but despite the Peace Wall, it didn't make it too hard to enter Avaria. One could obtain visas at the League branches everywhere, and whoever came without a visa would be let in until a daily limit was reached.
Instead of worrying about people entering, the League cared about identifying them and ensuring they didn't overstay their welcome. Avaria was an important economic, research, and defense region. Tourists brought money, but insistent strangers were annoying or outright suspicious.
There was a long car queue when Arthur and the others approached, but only in one of the five lanes, the one for tourists without a visa. It moved excruciatingly slowly, and the cars and people inside were closely scrutinized.
The second lane was for those with visas, and although almost as slow as the first one, it at least was shorter.
The third lane was for registered business personnel. It was as busy as one might expect of a traffic jam during rush hour despite only having a few dozen cars in line. The vehicles and people were still checked, but the process was faster, and their identities were more quickly verified.
The fourth lane was for unawakened residents. Only a dozen cars were there, and it moved much faster. Their identities and possessions were barely checked.
Finally, the last lane was for awakeners. Arthur wasn't surprised to find a couple of cars in line there. He had started seeing a few awakeners here and there as they got close to Avaria, especially in the medium town just before the border. It made sense that they would leave for business or even just to breathe fresh air outside of a place that might feel like a prison for some. And this close to a League nation, they felt safer.
There were enough traffic signs explaining who should get to which lane, but a few people still tried to either drive their cars to a less busy lane or leave their vehicles and go ask questions to make sure they couldn't skip the line. Because of that, unawakened League employees stood on the road and approached any car that didn't head to the tourist line. As for a tourist without a visa that got to the end of the visa-only lane? They were mercilessly sent back to the first lane when their turn arrived.
Sophie's Bello was intercepted by one such employee as she drove it to the fifth lane. The guy in his mid-twenties had brown eyes and hair and wore a white uniform and a black cap, both with the League's golden symbol. He gestured for Sophie to slow down, and she not only complied but also retracted the car's roof. Arthur had asked her to do that in case the four needed to leave the vehicle to fight.
"Good afternoon," the man said with a polite smile that quickly turned into a respectful gaze when he saw the four. "Right ahead, madams, sirs." He tipped his hat.
The prince chuckled. Determining the likelihood of someone being an awakener but how unnaturally beautiful they looked was trustworthy enough for a first filter.
In the checkpoint itself, each lane became a long tunnel of enchanted stone with a dozen automated turrets on the ceiling. The cars in the line were told to wait outside while one at a time was inspected inside. An awakener and a few unawakened were present in each lane, beside a small room with another few unawakened. The rooms were filled with paper cabinets and had a few telephones each.
The awakeners were level 15, wearing standard League plate armor, except for their lack of a helmet. They were no threat to Arthur but had the gait of someone used to flexing their power over the weak.
From the episode in North Lake City, Arthur had suspected level 10 to be the default warrior level. Either that only held true for deployment in low-mana areas, or these awakeners were some sort of elites. The latter was more likely because they behaved briskly even to the awakeners going into Avaria, all of whom were level 6 at the highest.
When Sophie got to the line, there was only one car ahead of her, and it was already being called. Five minutes later, it was Sophie's turn.
The moment the male awakener border guard saw Sophie, he was filled with unhidden desire and bad intentions.
The man would likely bleed soon—and he'd better keep any offense to a minimum, or Graham would not hold back on protecting High House Boria's honor against another awakener.
Nor would Arthur remain polite if anything happened in an official setting like this.
Anything.
His patience was growing thin. He had given the League enough time. If they insisted on letting another individual like Wilkins interact with him, they were at least incompetent, likely outright ill-intended.
Thus, the prince would be done with the League. He would invade, destroy the dungeon, and figure things out afterward. Whoever stood in his way would learn better—painfully so.
The ambient mana levels had steadily grown in the last ten minutes of his trip. Right here, right now, his mana pools were regenerating. Arthur and his people would come with a vengeance, with no worries about running out of mana. While he didn't anticipate facing the peak of magitech weaponry, he didn't fear it either.
The border guard smiled wickedly as Sophie's car approached the inspection point.
Arthur took a deep breath as he lay his back in the seat.
"Prepare for extended combat," he said in his native language, uncaring of whether the guard would understand it.
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