Level One God

Chapter 36 - Impossibly Filthy



Lyria

I paced at the center of camp, gnawing on one of my nails. Brynn left to get firewood almost an hour ago. Before that, he’d been dumping poison all over his body, screaming bloody murder, and then repeating the process until I’d strongly suggested he take a break and gather some wood. When I decided to protect him, I had no idea I was also going to be protecting him from himself.

I had to admit it was a little fascinating to watch him. I had believed the things Circa told me about who he was and even the fact that The Nine really had been real. Still, it felt like my mind didn’t want to let the belief take hold yet.

At first, I’d seen him as clueless. His type came through often enough, after all. Some royal outcast or wealthy merchant’s son. They’re given a few scraps and sent out into the world to “make something of themselves.”

Usually, they do make something of themselves. A mess. They wind up as a pile of blood and meat somewhere. Smeared in a forest or crushed in a cave.

The family doesn’t have to worry about their dimwitted relative anymore, and life moves on. Everybody wins. Well, everybody except the new pile of meat, I suppose.

I thought Brynn was one of those types. He was just too open and trusting to be anything else, and I knew he’d be eaten alive by monsters or people looking to wrench that pretty helm off his head. But I had to give him credit. He wised up fast enough not to go blabbing about who he was to anybody in our new group.

Lucky me. Somehow, Circa died and I became the new sole protector of freaking Seraphel of the Nine? I almost wished he would be stupid and tell someone else. Then, maybe I wouldn’t feel so obligated to keep watching over him.

I spat out a nail, feeling frustrated. What was I going to do if he got killed out there? Head back to Riverwell and die honorably with Jarn if that lich came screaming into town some day? Continue on to Thrask with the few paltry silver coins I had saved and hope I could find work?

I could always run commissions for the adventurer’s guild on my own, but something about knowing I had a larval god at my side made that all seem a little more meaningful. After all, a god wouldn’t send himself back to the bottom if he didn’t know there was something in himself he could rely on, right?

Seraphel would’ve known what he was made of. He would’ve known what disadvantages he could endure. For all I knew, Seraphel could have set a few things into motion. He knew he’d be sleeping for 300 years, after all. Maybe he could have even guessed where he would go and made some preparations?

Or maybe he simply trusted his nature. The man likely knew what he was made of, and could’ve trusted himself to take the right steps a second time.

Brynn did train like his hair was on fire. He never seemed to stop. Every time I looked at him, he was in his own world, spraying that horrible-smelling poison everywhere, fiddling with his bottle, or with that odd stillness of body he got when he meditated. I’d never seen someone quite so driven to advance, and had to admit it was just a touch inspiring.

Just a touch.

I sighed, still walking in the same restless circle. I looked up at Kass, who was poking the dwindling fire with a long stick. “Bloody Steve will actually look for him, right?” I asked.

Kass tilted his head in thought. The man was obnoxiously handsome, but once you got past that, he was alright. “What else would he be doing? He said he’d look for him. So I assume he’s looking.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “What do strange tomte blood berserkers do when they’re alone?”

“You don’t want to know,” Perch said. As usual, he was striking a dramatic pose as he crouched and stared off into the trees. I was still in a little disbelief to be traveling with an actual party of adventurers. It made me feel like some faint glimmer of my mom was with me.

Was this what her life had been like when she wasn’t home with us? Obviously the people and places were different, but this was some version of the life she lived. She went out into the world and sought danger. She tried to help people, even when it meant going face-first into terrible places.

I sighed and put her from my thoughts. I needed to focus on worrying about the suicidal, manically training-obsessed godling, Brynn.

Yes, he was driven. But I wondered if he had found someone like me the first time around, too. Somebody to step in and say… “hey, maybe let’s not dump the poison on our heads just because we want to reach tier 2 in a skill, hmm?”

Maybe drawing in suckers like me to keep him safe from himself was part of his secret powers.

Minara made me jump when she put a hand on my shoulder. She offered me a kind smile. The woman wasn’t what you would call conventionally attractive, but she had a calming way about her that I had to admit grew on me, even if she was a stuck-up Radiant. “He’ll be alright,” she said. “He probably went off to practice his abilities somewhere and got carried away.”

I tried not to look annoyed. Was it that obvious I was worried? “That does kind of sound like something he’d do.”

“Then again,” she said, frowning in thought, “I can also imagine him getting involved in a situation that most sane people would advise against. There’s a bit of a chaotic streak in him, isn’t there?”

I sighed. “Yes. I don’t think I have him figured out, yet. Honestly, we really haven’t known each other that long.”

“Really?” she asked. Minara somehow managed to keep her robe pristine at all times, even when we were traveling through the forest and getting kidnapped. I was beginning to think she had some kind of passive ability for it. I wouldn’t put it past the Radiants to have a passive dedicated to simply looking superior to everybody. Gods knew they did everything else they could toward that goal.

“I assumed you two were old friends,” Minara said, eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“Nope,” I said.

I’d spent several hours talking to Minara as we traveled, but she never asked how I knew Brynn. Instead, we’d mostly talked about the possibility of me switching corestones and joining the Radiants. She wasn’t convinced I’d be accepted, but I was interested and wanted to know more, all the same. Stuck-up snobs or not, there wasn’t a party on Eros who would turn away a Radiant. I could freelance for guards, get a cushy military position waiting at camp to heal the wounded, or I could even pick up a few low-risk commissions from the adventurer’s guild. Hell, I’d be able to find a small town somewhere without a healer and live a simple life, helping people who needed it.

I certainly didn’t feel much loyalty or love for my damn Sword corestone. All these years and I still had only figured out one ability. It was pathetic, and maybe my luck would be better with a new class.

Whatever the class, I thought I may have finally found my true calling out here. Adventuring and facing danger instead of waiting for it to come, patrolling walls, and breaking up drunken fights in Riverwell.

This was all starting to feel like I was on the right path for once—like real life was breathed into me for the first time in as long as I could remember, and I was only just getting started.

“Huh,” she said, sounding thoughtful.

Perch let out a low whistle like a bird call, then jerked his head toward the woods.

I stared for several seconds before what I was looking at finally registered.

Brynn was limping toward us with an armful of at least ten weapons bigger than he was. He looked like he’d just been burrowing up some great giant’s nose and had been sneezed out.

I felt so much damn relief to see him in one piece that I wanted to punch him, just for putting us all through that. The big idiot had just got me feeling like my life had some purpose for once and then he had to go and make us all think he was dead somewhere.

Instead of punching him, I folded my arms and kept a safe distance. Part of me was almost tempted to hug him, then punch him, and I wasn’t about to risk that kind of nonsense. He was also filthy. Impossibly filthy.

“Oh, dear,” Minara said, rushing toward him.

I stared in disbelief as he dropped the pile of weapons to the ground and flashed me a thumbs up. His leg was drenched with blood and didn’t look so good, but his voice sounded normal. “Are these worth anything?” he asked from beneath that crazy helmet of his. “There are more, if we want to go back and get them.”

What was wrong with him? He was wondering about money while it looked like he was one breath from passing out due to pain and blood loss?

Minara was already focusing healing on his calf, which was torn open. He’d tied it off with a piece of his shirt. He looked like he’d been through hell and back.

“I told you to get firewood,” I said slowly. “What happened?”

“Well…” Brynn said. He was sitting with one leg out while Minara fussed over him. His clothes were torn in several places, and he was covered in sweat. “The real question is why the hell does any creature need four asses? Actually, no. The better question is what kind of fucked-up bug society feeds their mates to a giant maggot monster who digests them?”

“Uh,” I said slowly. “Did you hit your head somewhere?”

“Several times,” he said, voice laced with exasperation.

Minara moved her hand up to his head, muttering disapprovingly. “I’ll need to lift the helmet to—”

“No,” he said suddenly, reaching up and gripping the helmet so she couldn’t pull it off. “The head is fine. Thanks. If you don’t mind working on this one?” He turned to the side and showed her a gash below his arm.

Minara hesitated a moment, then nodded and began healing the gash.

Bloody Steve came tromping back into camp. He rubbed one hand on his bald head and took a look at Brynn. “Feckin’ hell, boy. You look like my dead brother, Lubed-Up Louie.”

“You had a brother named Lubed-Up Louie?”

Bloody Steve smacked Brynn on the back of the helmet. “No, of course not. That was a joke you thick-skulled giant. What kind of tomte woman with any self respect would bestow her spawn with an honor name like Lubed-Up Louie?”

“You’re right,” Brynn said, nodding. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Minara’s lip twitched and I had to cover my mouth to hide my smile.

“Oh,” Bloody Steve announced loudly. “Everybody! I’ve found Mr. Helmet. You’re welcome.”

Once Minara finished treating his wounds, Brynn spent the next several minutes telling all of us the story of his unlikely escape from an entire town of carapax. He had the whole camp enthralled as he told the tale in a way I was almost certain he must have embellished. But how else would he have gotten his hands on ten carapax weapons? The alternative to his version of events would have been even more unbelievable. A Wood who just started learning his abilities—former god or not—wouldn’t have stood a chance.

“Wait,” I said once he finished. “The pheromones made them try to mate with you, but they burrowed into the queen when you sprayed her with it? Why didn’t they just dance for her, too?”

Brynn raised his palms in a shrug. “I mean, I did shoot the pheromones inside her mouth. I could see them squirming through her… inner bits. Maybe they were planning to dance once they got close enough. Or maybe the queen is a little more sexually appealing to them than me. They skipped the foreplay and went right into—”

“Ugh, okay, okay,” I said, holding up a hand for him to stop. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“Welp,” Bloody Steve said, scratching his bare nipple. “Let’s get our asses to that queen. Sounds like nobody will be there to stop us from snatching up some nectar, eh? Tell you what,” he said, raising his voice so the townspeople could hear. “We get our hands on that nectar, and I’ll even cut you useless meat sacks in on the profits. What do ya say about that, eh?”

“Meat sack?” the little girl asked, sounding offended.

Her dad just patted her head. I could practically see the gold coins glistening in his eyes. I couldn’t say they weren’t glistening in mine a little, too. If we really did get our hands on carapax queen nectar, it could pay my normal wages for a year or two, even after splitting it with everybody.

Brynn dragged himself to his feet, pulled a little pink potion vial out of his belt full of pouches, and then chugged it. He stood a little straighter, rolled out his shoulders, and started following the others. It looked like we were all going to hold off sleep for a while longer.


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