Unbound-Chapter Eight Hundred And Sixty Six: 866

The Golems ran at Archie, swords held high, but he was a ghost.

Primeval Drift flared in his channels as he slipped through their iron limbs and high steel blades. Sparks from his Fanblades struck from the Golems' hide, his Molten Daggers lopping off their limbs one by one—until they were nothing more than twitching torsos upon the solid earth.

A bell rang out, and Archie paused, panting amid inscribed gears and empty, metal torsos.

Training - Round 4 Has Ended.

Do You Wish To Schedule Another?

Archie sheathed his daggers and waved away the notification. Instead he waited, breathing deeply as his Stamina slowly climbed back up. Leather-clad Gnomes rushed out, picking up pieces of the Golems and placing them onto wide carpets.

"You made short work of these," said one, clearly impressed. Archie simply nodded, not really in the mood for conversation, especially among these particular folks. Yet that, apparently, was not strong enough of a hint, because the Gnome kept talking.

"You're really strong for a Gnome. How did you get so close to Master Tier? That's where you are, right? It’s what everybody's saying."

"Yeah," Archie replied, as sharply as he could.

"Wow.” The Makewright didn’t bat an eye at his tone. “The strongest Gnome I know is the Guildmaster, and he's just into Adept. What's it feel like?"

Archie frowned, caught up despite himself. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you know—we're Gnomes. Us and Goblins, we're the weakest of any of the mortal Races out there. Strictly on bonuses, right? A lot of us stay away from fighting. We focus on our strengths. I've always been interested in Golems, you know, and working with my hands. I'm not too good with..." He made a gesture, as if stabbing with a sword. "But you, you move those things like you were born with them in your hands. I guess what I'm saying is... I'm envious. And proud. To think, there’s another Gnome out there and he’s Master Tier." The Gnome laughed. "Anyway, sorry, didn't mean to take up your time.”

“No, it—” Archie swallowed his frown and forced a smile. “It’s fine.”

“What Golem do you need next? More of the High Steel?"

"I think I’m up for a challenge. Send out the Glass."

The Gnome's eyes grew big, and he just about vibrated in excitement. "Yeah! Yeah, we can do that.” He turned, waving his arms at the crew picking up Golem pieces. “Everybody! Hurry up and haul this lot back! We got Glass next!”

The Makewrights were suddenly possessed of a manic energy as they lifted melted slag and sheared off gears onto their carts and wagons at speed. In moments, the area was cleared and the entire group ran off through the gates.

“We'll have them come out,” said the talkative one. “Give me just a fraction, yes? Oh, I can’t wait!"

The Gnome hurried off, carrying the remains of the High Steel Golems with him. In exchange, Archie received blessed silence. He supposed he shouldn't be too angry about them. There was a sort of solidarity among the Gnomes, and they thought he was a Gnome, too. Everyone did, usually, and it was close enough that Archie didn't care to correct them. Taking away that joy they had would’ve felt like kicking a puppy.

Another bell rang out, followed by two shorter strikes.

Training - Round 5 Will Begin.

The doors at the far end opened, and four Golems made of enchanted glass stepped out. Like all Golems, their heads were simple, featureless oblong blobs set on swiveling necks, capped with mithril to simulate a helmet. Their torsos and joints were also clad in silver-green mithril to match their spears. Behind them, a single orichalcum Golem loomed, twice as wide as the rest and fitted with interlocking red-gold plates across its translucent body. Unlike all the others, this one looked almost like a real person.

"Okay," Archie said, unsheathing his knives. "Let's do this."

Lying on the hard floor of the training hall, Archie wasn't sure which was more embarrassing: puking his guts out after he'd been punched by that orichalcum jerk, or lying there exhausted while the Gnomes that had just looked up to him escorted the untouched Glass and Orichalcum Golems away. He was pretty sure it was a tie.

Damnit! What do I do?

The Makewrights left him alone. Neither they or the System had even bothered to ask him if he wanted to fight again. He supposed they could see that he wasn't really up for it. His Stamina was shot and his Skill... Archie shook his head. Primeval Drift had refused to work on the Orichalcum Golem, and even the Glass had enchantments on it that stymied his abilities to shift through it at speed. He’d tried, and he’d barely phased through an inch before a mithril fist knocked him into the dirt. Phasing that long was useless in battle, and his molten daggers... they weren't enough.

I need... I need more options. This can't be the limit.

“Are you okay?”

Without moving his head, Archie rolled his eyes toward the far end of the training hall, where the deer woman stood within one of the observation boxes. She waved at him, and he groaned.

“Do you need help? I can help.”

"No thanks," Archie said, and burped slightly as the effort to raise his voice shifted something unpleasantly in his gut. "I'm fine.”

"You don't look fine."

The clack of her hooves sounded on the training hall tiles, and forced Archie to sit up. The Theran mage walked over, a bit hesitant, but determined to pester him, it seemed.

"You're... Archie, right?"

"Hm. And you're Elowen.”

“Yes. El to my friends."

"Elowen, then."

Her deer-like face fell, much more expressive than Archie would have guessed, though he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Beef could pout like the best of them.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well, I... I heard that a lot of you were... well, you were attempting to reach Master Tier and weave your Pillars. I was looking to help.”

“Really. And you chose to help me?” He narrowed his eyes. “What exactly about me screams ‘help me’?”

"Nothing!” Elowen waved her hands. “You were the first person I could find. The others they’re all hidden away with their undead and Dragons and giants. I could hear you in the halls of the Temple, though. You’ve been at this a while.”

Archie looked at his Stamina. It was recovering way too slowly, and he’d already drank too many Stamina Potions. “What’s your point?”

“That Skill you used to pass through solid surfaces—is that your main ability?"

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"You calling me a one-trick pony?"

"No, no, I... I was just trying to..."

Archie waved a hand. "It's fine. I'm not, and it isn't, but it's one of my best ones.”

“The ability to slip through solid surfaces is something I’ve never seen anyone do. Even the Umber mages could only shift earth around themselves, and even then they needed enchanted artifacts to make it useful in battle.” Elowen sighed. “I’m losing the thread here. I’m at Grandmaster Tier, and I wanted to give my advice on weaving your Pillars.”

"No thanks."

She jerked back as if he’d slapped her. "Why not?"

"I don't trust you. I barely even know you.”

“I... I suppose Felix accepting me here isn’t enough."

"Listen, lady, all I know is that you're an Unbound like me. Oh, and that you nearly crushed the Glow-Eyed King in Levantier. I heard about all the rest, too."

"Ah," she said, folding her hands before her, and fiddling with the rings on her fingers. "I see. I thought perhaps you, among everyone else, would be more comfortable with me, seeing that you were previously the newest of the Unbound in this group. I see that I am an outsider. Once again."

Archie rolled his eyes. "I've never not felt like one. You get used to it."

Elowen peered closer at him, those silver chains jangling between her antlers. "What's that mean?"

Archie shrugged. "Stay on the fringes long enough, you find a home there."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Sometimes you don't have a choice."

Archie could feel the big deer studying him, her soft, weird eyes judging and weighing his words. He checked his Stamina again, but it was still below the 50% mark. He had plenty left to go.

"What did you do before this? Before the Continent," she asked.

This is why I hate talking to new people.

Archie gave a tired grin. "You trying to relate to me, lady?"

"I'm trying to get to know you. This is small talk, in case you've never heard of it."

"Small?" Archie's grin vanished.

"I mean, it's casual conversation," she said quickly. "I didn't mean..."

"Whatever," he grunted, pushing himself into a seated position. He had time before he could fight the Golems again anyway. "I used to pull jobs back home."

"Jobs?"

"Burglary."

She jolted a little at that. Nothing more than a lifting of her chin, but those chains gave her away, jangling as she moved. "You mugged people?"

"No, that's robbery. I never used force." Archie leaned his head back, looking up at the ribbed ceiling.

"I was a second-story man, the best in the biz. I fronted as a plumber to get in and make copies of the keys and such, you know. I even got pretty good at pipes and drains near the end. Later on, I'd come back. Maybe that night, maybe in a week. I'd waltz in like I owned the place, key and all." He smiled to himself. "Those were the days, flush with cash from skimming the top off rich bastards."

"You stole even before you came to the Continent?"

Archie gave her a mocking grin. “Guess I’m not the only one listening to gossip.”

She flushed, even through the fur. “The others talk. I listen. I thought you were forced into that situation, though."

He snorted. "What, did you think we're all saints or children? Talk to the boss and the Minotaur for that. Me? I'm a realist."

"A realist," she echoed, considering her hands and the rings on them. "I used to have thin fingers."

"Okay," Archie said slowly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"My mother, she called them the hands of a pianist." She sighed. "I always hated the piano."

"Me too, but probably for different reasons." Archie paused. "They're very hard to steal. Too big."

Elowen smiled. "I'd have given you mine had I been able. I was forced to practice for five hours every day, no matter what else I had to do. My mother was a prodigy when she was younger and she expected the same from her child. I wasn't. It was one of the first things I dropped after I moved away."

"Disappointing parents. I can relate to that."

"Disappointment was an understatement. I ran away from the arts entirely, went to the opposite side of things, partly out of spite, I suppose, and partly because I needed money to live."

"What's the opposite of a pianist?"

"I got a job as a quant."

Archie waggled a finger in his ear dramatically. "Pardon?"

"Quantitative research. I specialized in the implementation of statistical and mathematical methods to understand and forecast the financial markets."

"Oh," Archie's confusion cleared immediately. "You were a criminal too, huh?"

"What? No."

He laughed. "You were all offended and now I find out you're dipping your hands in wallets too."

"It's a legitimate job."

"Uh-huh."

Elowen's mouth pursed in clear annoyance. "My point is that I didn't have much. No family, no time for friends. Then I came here. I found people backstabbing social climbers, but I counted some of them among my friends. I saw this place as a way to do something new, something better with my life.” She dropped her hands to her sides. “I suppose I just find it surprising that you chose to return to thievery."

"Choice?" Archie said, raising his eyebrows. "What makes you think choice had anything to do with it? I arrived to blood and grease in back alleys. It's not too different from what I left, and I didn't have the glory of choice."

"We all have a choice.”

"Yeah, but some choices aren’t shit, are they? In my case, I either froze to death, got stabbed, or I do a job for a Dwarf with halitosis and only eight fingers. Climb the south side of a building, sneak in a window, steal some stuff. Get paid. It's a lot better than freezing."

"I suppose you're not wrong."

"I know I'm not wrong. Life's tough, lady, no matter where you end up." Archie scratched his jaw. "You're not wrong, it was easy to pick it back up. Magic might be real here, but people are the same anywhere you go. I didn’t get any kind old lady to help me out of the fog and teach me magic. I learned what I needed to learn between a cell and a noose. Did what I could, and I don’t regret any of it.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “What about you? How’re your regrets treating you?”

Elowen's eyebrows turned up, and her big, expressive eyes looked extra bright.

Oh, crap. Am I gonna make her cry?

"I hate that you’re right,” she said, and her voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I ended up a slave to Siva's whims because I trusted the Grandmaster Violet. I helped develop a weapon in order to eradicate every rival in a city. That—that’s about as criminal as you can get."

Elowen sagged, hands fidgeting. She looked like she could use a hug. Archie folded his arms in front of his chest and coughed awkwardly. "Don't beat yourself up over it. We all make mistakes. But uh…my Stamina's recovered. I'm gonna go fight now."

"Ah." Elowen stepped back. "I suppose you have to prep for the assault."

"Gotta get those Skills up to Master Tier, right? And I gotta juice up these Pillars I'm supposed to have. Somehow."

"It is strange that Felix is having you all weave your Pillars before Master Tier. I didn't manage it until nearly at Grandmaster."

Archie raised an eyebrow. "Would it have helped to do it sooner?" freёnovelkiss.com

"It would have, yeah. No one told me how, however. There were strict rules in the Tower. You had to gather enough power in your core space before they would ever consider it, and even then they’d never make the attempt earlier than High Master Tier.”

“Why?”

“I suppose because it's an expensive process involving far more resources than any organization likes to spend. The chance of failure is just too damn high. Without the right balance of Mana and significance, even a genius would falter. It's not about level—”

“It's about technique and an overwhelming foundation,” Archie recited, then snapped his little notebook closed. "That's what Zara and Felix wrote, anyway."

"Huh. Well, I see that you have things under control, and I see when I am not wanted. I'll find my own way out." The Theron turned and walked away, her back ramrod straight.

Archie massaged the bridge of his nose, regretting the words even as they came out of his mouth. "Hey, hold on."

She stopped, but didn't look back. Archie tucked his notebook back into his sash and let out an explosive exhale. "You can see the future, right?"

"Not exactly," Elowen said, turning.

"But close enough?"

"Close enough, yes."

"Then you can tell if I’m gonna screw up and how? Could you warn me before I do it?" He unsheathed one of his molten daggers. "Mind watching me fight?"

Elowen smiled, her antlers jangling. "Sure."