NOVEL NEXT 137: On the run
137:
“So,” Tom began. “How do we distribute this?” He asked, holding the Rare Card they had gotten from looting Synrak.
For the past few hours, the trio had done little else but flee the chaos that they had been chief in charge of causing. The remnants of the Shadow Guild surely could not have been pleased by the results of their battle and they had certainly not expected.
The fact remained, though— they had gotten away with the greatest prize Zeth Aetherfall and the Shadow Guild possessed. If it weren’t for Aleph finding a stash of uncommon healing potions out of the plethora of poisons, throwable bombs, another uncommon weapon artifact, Zeth’s damaged uncommon bone armor set, a uncommon mask that allowed one to change their appearance temporarily, lots of currency and a journal among even more odds and ends, Tom wasn’t sure if he would’ve been able to sprint for that long without dying from blood loss.
Even now, the wound Zeth had left upon him was only beginning to scab. If he were to be attacked in the same area, Tom was pretty sure he would dye the ground red.
The Sacred Forest had offered them no real cover or shelter to recover in, so they had been left with no choice but to make their way up a tree that was as nondescript as any other in the forest.
Tom himself was seated upon a thick branch, with Aleph sitting next to him while Zirel was in their direct line of sight, as he leaned against the trunk of the tree with his feet balanced on a thinner branch.
This way, at least they would see their pursuers coming.
“A Rare Card,” Zirel replied, his tone sounding amused. “You know, it’s rather funny. Before I met you both, there’s not a single doubt in my mind that I would have killed for the power you so casually hold pinched between your thumbs.”
“And now?” Tom quizzed, raising an eyebrow at the admission.
“Now…. I am no longer as sure of it’s worth,” Zirel replied, his own tone sounding uncertain, as if even he was struggling to believe that the words belonged to him.
“Explain,” Aleph asked before Tom could decide upon an apt response.
“I have a Rare Card of my own,” Zirel calmly replied, as if that were enough to explain anything. “One that I am not sure if I am entirely worthy of. The Nether Lich was not an opponent I could’ve hoped to defeat on my own, even if its strength were scaled down to my own.”
“The Divine System thought you worthy of it,” Aleph replied, though there was a twinge of hesitation in her words that Tom caught onto.
“Of my courage, perhaps. Or foolhardiness. The Nether Lich was a monster. Had it not been for Synrak’s eclectic talents, I would’ve met my end in the final sector of the Zelez Dungeon,” Zirel replied, not a hint of shame to be found in his tone.
“What does that have to do with distributing the rewards?” Tom asked, not able to puzzle out where Zirel was going with his train of thought.
“It is the pattern,” Zirel answered, as he gently massaged his chin with his right hand. “Until now, I could’ve passed off my performance in that battle to the Nether Lich’s competence in place of my own weakness. The master of the Shadow Guild, though? I had every advantage an assassin could possibly ask for, yet I failed to kill him in a single blow.”
“He was a monster,” Aleph replied, her tone heavy. “I died to his shadows. Just because Total Recall brought me back doesn’t mean that I enjoyed how it felt. I tasted ash in my mouth. I should’ve felt pain, immense pain, but all that came was numbness that bled into weakness. Then, everything started to fade. My anger. My desire for vengeance. My strength. Nothing mattered…,” She trailed off, a shudder passing through her body before she shook her head.
“I am sorry for that, Aleph,” Zirel replied, offering her an understanding nod. “But after I read the description of the Rare Card we have acquired, I can no longer escape the truth.”
“And what is that?” Tom asked.
“I do not think that the Shadow Guild’s master had a Rare Card that was any more powerful than mine. Higher level, yes. But it was not his raw stats that put us at such a disadvantage. Not in a one against three, no— it was a display of pure skill that let him dominate as he did,” Zirel analyzed, his expression intense as he thought back on the battle.
“You’re not wrong,” Tom conceded. The more he thought about it, the clearer it got. There was definitely value in Zeth’s method, but he had ultimately lost because he had put too much faith in his solitary Soul Card.
Zeth had stumbled upon a truth, but it was not the whole truth.
“I do not think that adding a rare to my deck will help me as I am now. I cannot use my invisibility and the shadows together, so it’s use to me has already fallen. No, I would much rather look through the uncommons you have amassed and pick the one that synergizes best with the deck I intend to build.”
“You would give up a Rare?” Tom asked. “Just like that?”
“It is not my Rare to give away,” Zirel retorted with a shrug. “I had a single task and I failed in it. Comforting words will not change that reality. I did not make a mistake, I allowed a miscalculation. If I truly let that error fester, then I suspect I will die not long after I step into the tower.”
“I see,” Tom replied, unused to seeing Zirel’s honorable side. “If that journal contains what I think it does, then you will get a better idea of why Zeth was so strong.”
“Was that his name?” Aleph asked. “Zeth?”
Tom nodded before continuing, “How do you want to do this, Aleph?”
“You can use it, right?” Aleph asked, meeting his gaze with a sharp, piercing gaze.
“What gave it away?” Tom asked.
“I have just learned that it is better to overestimate you. Continuous surprises aren’t as fun when you’re on the other end of them.”