A Summoner Awakens [A Card-Based GameLit Progression Fantasy]

Chapter 6 [The Boss' Orders]

"That old co-" before I could confirm my suspicions, the drunkard rushed forward... and he was fast. I scarcely managed to block the thick branch he carried as it arced toward my head. His assault pushed me back several feet, surprising me once again.

Nathaniel rushed toward the man, swinging his glaive upward in a long arc. The blade struck the man's waist almost perfectly before slicing cleanly through his chest and exiting his shoulder. Yet, there was no blood. As they watched, the grinning image of the man began to shimmer and then faded from existence.

"Look out! He's going for Aurora!" Unfortunately, David's voice came too late. The man materialized behind the girl and struck her forcefully between her neck and shoulders. Aurora slumped back silently into the drunkard's arms before either myself or Nathaniel could intervene.

"Hehe! What fun!" the man laughed and shoved her unconscious body toward Nathaniel, who caught her gently. Nathaniel eyed the drunkard, who suddenly looked serious as he stared at the young man. "Keep yer distance. All will be well if you just leave us to our business, eh?"

Nathaniel cut his eyes toward me. I stared down the drunkard for a few moments, my flawless memory briefly replaying our first encounter. He didn't seem to harbor any malicious intent, and even now, there were no warnings from my Threat Acuity.

Not that it would be accurate against someone of his caliber. Now... I wonder...

*Click*

"Do as he says," I pulled my blade from its casing, holding the sheath loosely behind me in my left hand while I pointed the sword toward my opponent with my right. "I'll be alright."

"Oh?" The drunkard looked at me, that amused smile back on his face. He twirled his branch casually in one hand, "Yer a right confident little welp, yeah?"

His Strength and Agility are at least Level 5, possibly 6. His Will is undoubtedly higher than mine unless he has some other skill that blocks my Appraising Eye. I chuckled despite myself, and the man's grin grew even broader as he stepped in my direction. Luckily, I've got almost seventy years on him. And with his strength, there's no reason to hold back.

I Dashed forward before he'd finished his first step. There wasn't a sound as my feet lifted from the forest floor, and my body careened toward my opponent. My blade Pierced forward, and the drunkard only scarcely dodged it while thrusting his free hand toward my stomach, palm first.

Flexing my control over Dash, I forced the Ability to shift the momentum to one side, spinning me away from the strike as I lashed out with my cane's shaft. It whistled loudly as it screamed toward the drunkard's temple. Before it connected, the base of his branch knocked the rod up and over his head.

He leaped back as my momentum carried me full circle, and my feet slid along the grass as I dropped my Dash and came to rest in my original position. My blade pointed toward the man, and my sheath was gripped comfortably behind me.

The man's eyes flashed, and his drunken appearance briefly dropped to reveal a severe countenance beneath. With the scars marring his arms and cheek, he appeared as an experienced veteran. A Wielder who'd experienced much in his short life. I frowned, and as suddenly as it emerged, it vanished. He was back to his drunken, goofy state.

"Bloody he- hic! I guess I can't go easy on ya, eh, boy?" he stumbled slightly as he rushed forward faster than I could counter. Since that wasn't an option, I did the only reasonable thing that came to mind.

"Affliction! Hex!"

I whispered both Spells as fast as I could. The shadows cast by the afternoon sun seemed to dance toward my position, wrapping themselves around my sword as I swung to meet the man head-on. He fell drunkenly to the side, my blade only managing to cut a lock of hair as he thrust his fist into my gut.

"Oof!"

My body flew backward, blood spurting from my open mouth, but I grinned through the pain. His forcing that dodge to look like an accident would be his downfall. My blade had made its cut, and even if it was only the man's hair, its Effects would take root. His punch would be just as detrimental. Hex would still show results if there was physical contact while the Spell was active.

I instantly noticed the change, though it wasn't quite as effective as I'd hoped. Shadows from every direction seemed to cling to the man, tugging at his body as if to slow him down. As a result, the drunkard's movements slowed slightly, by ten percent at the most.

It's not much, but it's a start. Though I was mostly building myself to take on the threats of the upper Floors, the skills I'd chosen would help to close the gap between myself and most higher Class opponents. Also... he could have struck to kill, and he didn't. So I think my hunch was correct.

"Oi! Wh-Why're there three o' you lil' shits?" the man stumbled again, and this time, it almost seemed genuine. My eyes shot open when I realized. Though it might not have been much of a reduction, the man's Foundations had been lowered, and his Vitality and Endurance would have a tougher time burning off the alcohol still coursing through his veins. And his Perception...

"O-Overcast!" I spat out a mouthful of blood as I shouted, and gray mist rushed up from the shadows, forming a thick fog that covered a large portion of the clearing. "Greater Heal! Shroud!"

The pain in my gut eased significantly as the Heal took effect, and I felt my body merge into the darkness as shadows flowed around my skin. Not affecting my vision, I could see the drunkard turn this way and that before clumsily coming to a halt and closing his eyes.

"Wheeere... Hic! Aare yooou, Little Wilder?" the drunkard sang loudly, spinning in circles slowly with his branch outstretched. He then began to whistle. The sound was loud and shrill enough to shake the fog... and the vials in my pack.

Cutting off one sense to augment the others and then forcing my equipment to vibrate, I slowly knelt and placed my hand on the grass as silently as possible. The man twitched slightly as the glass chimed in my pack but didn't rush forward. Between Overcast and Shroud, even my yell should be nothing more than a quiet call for most... but if his Perception is high enough to pick up on that... At least he's struggling to pinpoint the noise.

A stream of light erupted from my fingertips and rushed further into the dense, gray fog, forming a series of complex shapes in the earth.

***

Kel listened intently as he let out all of his breath in a high-pitched whistle. Over the years, he'd learned to use his Foundations in varying ways. As a result, his control over his body increased drastically, and he could feel the muscles inside himself clench and shift to his whim, allowing him to execute this action without using his skills. He rolled his eyes inwardly, hearing the old man's orders again as he did so.

"Watch the Wilder family closely, and don't allow anything to happen to them as my son ascends. I was careful, so there should be no connection. But, keep an eye out for anything suspicious," Kel recalled his friend and mentor grinning broadly as he passed over an Identification Card, a Relic shaped like an upside-down heart with an extension on top, and a flask of the good stuff. He took the items in his scarred hands, where tens of wounds were freshly healed.

"If Johnathan decides to pursue me, you'll get an alert through that Relic when the second chest is opened. Of course, my son won't have the training you do, but his Foundations should be high enough if he has the ability to find it. So when you test him, just use your Foundations, yeah?"

"Oh, come now, Charles. I'm not going to fucking hurt the lad," Kel took a deep gulp of the scorching liquid, grimacing as he felt his soul burn, then shaking as it expanded slightly. He burped and spluttered, causing Charles to laugh, "This stuff is absolutely wretched, it is."

"Flash that Relic to the young woman at 'That Damned Bazaar,' and she'll provide you with a monthly crate," Charles shook his head and shifted his monocle slightly, narrowing his eyes. "You'd best make sure not to abuse it. Too much will bring dire consequences. Just a drop more than what's recommended, and you'll have to spend weeks in recovery before you begin training again. If you utilize that Plague Tonic properly, you can train and temper your soul quickly without ascending. Unfortunately, it'll do nothing for the aging process, but you won't fall too far behind the others, and you can use the Order's resources to Level your Cards as needed."

"Too far behind, he says. It's shit compared to the tempering you said Wielders go through between Floors," Kel sighed, scratched at the back of his head, and looked up at the ceiling of the Origin Floor, "Why me, Boss? I'll do as ya ask, but I want to join ya up there. You lot 'ave already set up camp on the Fifty-First Floor, 'aven't ya? How long ya plan on stayin'?"

"Oh..." the youthful-looking Charles twirled his mustache with a grimace. "We'll be there for a few decades, it seems. Unfortunately, the only way to travel is by flight, and Cards that assist with that are few and far between. It'll be another snag, just like Floors Forty-Four and Forty-Five, where it took centuries to accumulate enough Cards to help Wielders survive the ocean depths long enough to locate the stairs. I'm afraid that we'll have to wait for more factions to catch up. Even with my... unique talents, we've only managed two methods of transportation, and neither is reliable."

"So there's still a chance I'll meet ya there, eh?" Kel's eyes sparkled as he stared up into the night sky.

Charles smiled sadly and patted the young man on the shoulder, looking carefully over his arms and at the deep gash on his cheek. He'd repeatedly proven his worth in the fight for Truth and had the scars to prove it, "I tell ya what, lad. You just turned thirty, yeah? So if John doesn't open the second chest by the time you're fifty, you can come on up. He'll be turning forty-one that year, and I hope he'll choose to settle down and enjoy the rest of his life rather than chase his old man."

Kel looked over at Charles excitedly but noticed his gaze was turned toward the clock hovering over the center of the Origin Floor. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was something strange in his countenance. Fear..?

"That should be near the turn of the century..." Charles muttered softly. "If there don't seem to be any developments by then, you rush up the Tower. I'll give you one year from then to reach us before we resume our ascent. I hope you'll have plenty of stories about my little Johnathan by then."

"You won't be comin' back..?" Kel raised a brow. "And what about lil' John, eh? Should I follow and keep an eye on 'em if he ascends? It ought to save me some time in catching ya."

"No, I won't return. My presence has been noticed, and even though my cover has yet to be realized, I'm a danger to my family," Charles' dull brown eyes stared solemnly into the night. "Johnathan has a child now, and that changes things. If he doesn't do it himself, I expect you to ensure the child attends the Academy. You'll observe without intervening. If the kid shows promise, you'll report to me when you ascend, and I'll handle matters from there. But, for now, I must cut all ties with the Wilders."

"If 'at's what ya want, Boss," Kel shrugged and took another drink from the flask, this time only taking a small sip. He wouldn't give the old man something else to laugh at. "I'll 'andle yer childmindin', but you better 'ave somethin' good waitin' for me up top, yeah?"

"You'll be more than satisfied. It seems the patrols are coming back around, so it's time we get going," Charles chuckled and lightly tapped the head of his cane with his forefinger. In an instant, his outfit changed from gray to black. His dull brown eyes were replaced by bright silver, which shone brilliantly in the night. "I'll draw their attention while you make for the city. Your existence is still unknown, and I expect it to stay that way."

Kel hopped to his feet and prepared to make a break for it, but he paused as the old man stretched out his hand. A sadness overtook him, a feeling he hadn't experienced for many years. He took Charles' hand and gripped it tightly.

"You asked why it had to be you?" Charles released his grip and stepped onto the building's edge. Kel heard shouting from below the moment the city's lights revealed the man to their pursuers. A broad grin stretched across the man's face, "I trust you. Besides, you're the only one mental enough to put off your ascension."

The man's mighty laugh shook the rooftop as he fell back, arms spread wide. Kel couldn't help but grin at the man's antics. His laugh was infectious. He turned and sprinted off, leaping from rooftop to rooftop until the sounds of shouting and Spells being cast were far behind him.

In the present, Kel shook his head at his lack of focus. He felt weaker after landing that punch, which didn't bode well. While waiting for the young man to arrive, he'd been sipping his Tonic and keeping himself just at the precipice of where his Vitality could counter its Effects. Whatever Card the kid used reduced his limits and pushed him over the edge.

He huffed and briefly considered calling it quits. The kid had already proven himself capable when he slaughtered the Skull with such an abysmal Foundation Level and Deck Count, but Kel had wanted to see the depths of that capability now that the boy was well-armed. Tara be damned if he didn't pit himself against the Boss' kin while he had the chance.

He tilted his head toward a muted hum several yards away. Most Wielders carried potions or drafts of different kinds, and he'd seen the young man regularly using Infernal Wash to keep himself unsoiled. It was a reliable method for stealth against Beasts, as it washed away most scents, but he'd learned a thing or two during his time with the Order. His pitch increased again, and that's when he heard it clearly... the sound of glass resonating with his whistle.

With a grin, he rushed forward, closing the distance between himself and the young man in seconds. He listened to Rowan's muffled steps as he took off toward the center of the fog. When he closed the distance, Kel swung low, aiming for the young man's shins. The branch connected, and he opened his eyes to see Rowan dive forward, rolling to his feet and turning to face him all in one motion.

Kel was both impressed and confused by the young man's movements. If Rowan had dodged a moment earlier, he could have avoided the strike entirely. Instead of following up, he took a moment to scrutinize the kid. There was unwavering confidence in Rowan's silver eyes, and that smile...

"Yer just like 'em," Kel muttered and spat to the side, grinning as he brandished his weapon. His grin vanished as he lifted the branch. The young man standing before him chuckled and stepped back into the fog.

"Oi! What is this rubbish?" he swung the limb back and forth, frowning. His movements felt sluggish, more so than after he drove his fist into the poor boy's gut. It was subtle, but it was there... he was gradually becoming slower. Carefully, he turned to his left, where he heard Rowan's steps quietly traversing the fog.

Kel didn't have a choice. He needed to end this fight quickly, or he'd have to tell the Boss he struggled against a youngin'.