“There’s nothing of yours here.”
“The names on the boxes beg to differ,” Hadjar stated calmly.
They met Glen’s eyes. By the Evening Stars, the undersized rogue was one of the few people who could withstand Hadjar’s gaze.
“It seems that children from the north and the islands can’t count,” Glen said more forcefully. “I’ll give you one more chance. Put-”
“Put a dog’s reproductive organ down your throat,” Einen spat on the floor. His friend’s cursing made Hadjar open his mouth in surprise. Apparently, the stress of the recent weeks had really affected the usually calm islander. “How many newbies have you cheated like this so far? You make them think that they can’t take their things back, and then you send them to their deaths.”
“Shut up, fish-fucker,” somebody shouted from the crowd. “Nobody sends them to their deaths!”
“Yeah,” another voice added, “we give them weapons.”
“Rusty weapons...”
There was laughter that sounded like the squealing of dogs.
“Those who survive earn our respect and a place at the common table,” Glen continued. “This is a very ancient tradition, and you won’t be defying it.”
Hadjar had suspected something like this was going on as soon as Karissa had kept her gaze on him. The witch had clearly wanted to hint at something, perhaps the fact that they should be ten times more careful around those who wear the ‘amulets’ than around the city’s residents. The witch had also said that someone who wore the amulet couldn’t do harm to a resident of Underworld City, as well as vice versa. However, Karissa hadn’t said a word about them fighting each other.
“Dear Einen,” Hadjar said, “do you think that maybe these gentlemen don’t understand who they’re talking to?”
“You’re right, barbarian.”
Exhaling, Einen turned the handle of his staff, and the iron stinger shot out from the top. At the same time, a tornado of energy soared up around the islander, filled with darkness and shadows. The shadows, behaving as if they were alive, pooled from the walls and floor to converge into the silhouette of a huge, grinning ape’s mouth. Its soundless roar affected the light itself, which became dimmer.
Hadjar, supporting his friend, grabbed his blade from its scabbard and swung it. A second tornado of energy, blue streaked with black, began to swirl in the barracks. It bent and wriggled, taking the shape of a curled up dragon lying at Hadjar’s feet. At the same time, everyone felt an invisible blade poised at their throats, as if an invisible army had appeared behind the northerner.
“A Wielder...” The whisper surged through the crowd.
“Demons and Gods, he wields the Sword!”
“I’ve never seen anyone like this before...”
“By the Evening Stars, they’re equal to cultivators...”
“Shut up!” Glen murmured. Even as they panicked, this cunning warrior still possessed undeniable authority among the locals. “There’s fifty of us, and we aren’t as weak as we appear to be.”
“We’ll test your might,” Einen nodded, “and many will die in that battle. Not even the Great Turtle knows who exactly. Maybe it’ll even be you.”
To confirm his friend’s words, Hadjar turned his blade slightly. A flurry of power fell from the blade. It left a long, deep cut across the floor, stopping once it reached Glen’s feet.
“Well,” Glen muttered through clenched teeth, “then you are on your own. Don’t you dare sit at the common table or take our food. If you’re so brave, then survive on your own in this damned hellhole.”
After spitting on the floor, he turned around and, pushing his people out of the way, stormed off. He wasn’t a coward, but he understood perfectly well that Einen was right. A lot of people would die in their battle, and nobody could be sure of who exactly would be among the ones who wouldn’t live until the dawn. Even if there was no real dawn to be had down here.
Following their leader, the remaining ‘guinea pigs’ left as well. Soon, only the servants, trembling with fear, remained at the broken counter.
Chapter 341
“Thank you.” The other newbies tried to thank Hadjar and Einen, but they left without even a nod. The trio stood around for a while, and then rushed over to look for their own boxes. In the practitioners’ world, this wasn’t considered impolite. Their paths had simply crossed for a short time, and they weren’t destined to travel down it together. Neither Hadjar nor Einen had thought about helping their three ‘companions in misfortune’. It was just a coincidence, simple as that.
As they were walking toward the unoccupied beds, they both noticed the dangerous, dagger-sharp glances they were getting. The locals were used to getting new things from the weakest newbies. Strong newbies really could handle weak animals with the help of rusty weapons. Those who violated this tradition were hated by anyone who had taken part in it. Alas, thanks to mutual responsibility, all of the inhabitants of the barracks had done so. The servants were also partly to blame.
“You know, at first, I’d thought we’d been enslaved,” Einen said thoughtfully, climbing up onto the upper bunk bed. They’d decided to use the farthest one. It stood in the corner, and two of its four sides were against the walls, so it would be difficult for them to be surrounded by a large number of foes. And neither of them doubted that most, if not all, of those present were their foes now.
“Believe me,” Hadjar smiled a little sadly, “our situation is nothing like slavery.”
“Believe me,” the islander mimicked him, which was completely uncharacteristic for him, “it’s like being in prison.”
Throwing an annoyed glance at the rest of the inhabitants of the barracks, Einen sat down in a lotus position and plunged into a deep meditation. Hadjar, after making his bed as best he could, hung a small bell up on a string.
He hadn’t needed these kinds of tricks since that time long ago, back when he’d just ascended to the Transformation level. However, old habits (especially if they’d saved him a couple of times already) were sometimes so deeply ingrained that it was impossible to get rid of them.
After immersing himself in the World River and absorbing the longed-for energy, Hadjar had expected to be taken to the world of the endless green meadow. He figured that, since he’d broken through to the ‘Wielder of the Sword’ level, he deserved to meet with Traves once again. Apparently, his Master thought differently.
In addition to that, Hadjar now understood quite clearly that the third step along the Way of the Sword wasn’t the last one. Gods and demons, how long and winding the path of cultivation was!
Karissa interrupted his thoughts. Without any ceremony, the witch pulled Hadjar and Einen out of their meditation.
“I approve,” she said, glancing at the uniform of her new ‘wards’.
Saying nothing more, she headed for the exit. Along the way, she ignored Glen, who was giving her compliments, and kicked a drunkard that was sleeping on the floor. Einen and Hadjar nodded to each other and followed the witch.
They left the barracks in silence, ignoring the angry glances aimed at their backs. Maintaining that same silence, they went outside. During the ‘night’ (or whatever it was), nothing had really changed: it was the same stone burial ground immersed in twilight. The only difference was that the screams had stopped and the bloodstain had become a little smaller.