Chapter Twenty-Eight: Gambit

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Gambit

Silence hung in the hall like an indrawn breath. For a moment, pure shock grasped everyone’s throats.

Tom smiled as a wall of sound roared and broke over him. The monks clapped and stamped so hard he could feel it in the ancient marble floor through his boots. The noise was so raucous, so overwhelming, that Tom felt his health regeneration kick in. His hearing was too sensitive for the sheer volume with Sus and Sol subsumed.

Tom felt good. Not only had he won, but he had proved himself victorious by a huge margin. He was aware that it was not really a fair fight though. Sweet Suffering was an incredibly powerful skill, and he had access to far more and far higher quality alchemical creations than someone of his tier usually would.

Without abusing Sweet Suffering, the fight would have been far more even. As it was, he had been strong and fast enough to almost completely invalidate the competition. Of course, he needed the skill to create an opening, and the technique to follow through on it, but anyone at their tier, at their age, should be at least decently skilled.

The roaring continued for half a minute before Sunset held up a hand. The hall fell into a satiated stillness.

“It seems your reputation is not undeserved, Master Cutter. You have earned your place on our expedition also.”

Tom murmured his thanks. Sunrise tilted her head curiously. “This buffing skill of yours is powerful indeed. Your skill is impressive also. I wonder how you would fare against someone who can properly match your physicality.”

“This could be arranged,” Sunset said, raising an eyebrow at Tom.

“I’m willing,” he replied.

Abbess Sunrise opened her mouth, presumably to speak to Javier, but Tom forestalled her.

“I have a condition,” he said.

The abbess and abbot both stilled. Tom could see them deciding whether to take affront or not, but he decided to take his chance while he had it.

“Go on,” Sunrise said, at length.

“If I win another bout, I want Darius to join the expedition.”

A murmur buzzed around the hall. Tom glanced at Darius and saw the shock on his face. Abbot Sunset leaned forward with a face like a thundercloud.

“Absolutely not! We-”

Abbess Sunrise raised a hand. Sunset snapped his mouth closed and glared at his younger counterpart. A small, knowing smile played on her lips. The anger and affront in his expression slowly leached away.

“What would say would be a fair fight for you then, Master Cutter? How many tiers up?”

Tom thought for a moment. “Five or six,” he said. That would account for a full level of advancement’s difference in two Ideals. It would mean he could be pitted against a high Exemplary Idealist with a single Ideal, or a high Consummate Idealist with two, but he gave himself fair odds.

“Done,” the abbess clapped her hands. “If you win, brother Gallo joins the expedition.”

Tom resisted a grin. He looked to Darius, expecting to see the man’s cheeky smile. Instead, the healer looked furious. Tom’s mind raced with confusion as Darius stood.

“Unacceptable! I will not have someone else fighting on my behalf for such a thing! I must be allowed to represent myself!”

“You will control yourself, Initiate Gallo! This is a bout to test Tom Cutter, not to assuage your ego!”

“Goddess demands we each prove our own worth as warriors!” Darius shouted.

Sunrise paused. “This is true,” she allowed. She tapped a finger on her chin. “He will better demonstrate the limits of this skill of his fighting alongside a healer. You could fight together.”

“Done!” Darius almost yelled in his excitement.

“Of course, we must have concessions for this allowance,” Sunrise purred. “If you two lose, then you will not join us, and brother Gallo will accept his proper place among infirmerers here at the monastery!”

Sunset’s stormy visage became smug as Sunrise’s plan was revealed. Darius looked like he’d swallowed a snake. Then his expression firmed into resolve, and he made his way through his brothers and sisters to stand tall beside Tom.

“Done,” he said evenly. “Who are to be our opponents?”

“Javier,” Sunrise called to the senior monk. “A match for Darius, and a tier twenty six for our young Hunter here.”

Javier grinned like a wolf. “Of course, Abbess.” He stared at Tom and Darius for a moment, considering, then let his gaze roam across the assembled monks.

“Adan,” he called. “If you please.” Javier gestured to the open floor. A monk wearing mild yellow robes came forward. He looked to be about the same age as Tom and Darius.

Tom’s gaze flicked towards Darius. The healer murmured under his breath. “I am not sure of his Ideals. He is not more than tier ten though. I have heard he is a caster-type fighter. Strong for his advancement.” Tom nodded.

Javier searched around the room with his gaze, making a show of who to pick.

“And…” He paused dramatically. “...Lyana.”

As soon as he said the name an excited hubbub drummed the air. Tom turned to Darius as a woman in dusty red robes glided forwards with a serene expression.

Darius had turned a shade whiter. “Lyana is… she is a senior monk, an exemplar for the monastery. She has only two Ideals. One is at Supreme, and the other cannot be far off. I am not going to lie. We might be in trouble with this one.”

Tom grimaced slightly. “Do you know what her Ideals are? What her skillset is like?”

Darius took a steadying breath. “Faith is her first Ideal. She is stronger and tougher than her tier depending on her belief. She has a cycle skill that can boost her further, among other things. Her other Ideal is Asceticism. It makes her stronger when she fights with no weapons or armour.”

Tom turned the information around in his head. Lyana would be incredibly strong, tough, and fast, and likely incredibly skilled as well, but it didn’t sound like she had many tricks. Privately, he thought the situation could be worse.

Javier had sent a runner for Darius and Adan’s arms and armour. Tom took the opportunity to study their opponents, both now standing across from them.

Adan was lithe of build and looked fast as a snake. He also seemed slightly awed at being paired with Lyana, side eyeing her as the older monk waited patiently for their gear to arrive.

Lyana was of average height and stocky, with a well-muscled frame. She looked utterly unconcerned. Her face was a placid mask. She simply stood, relaxed, calmly watching Tom and Darius.

Tom could sense troubling amounts of vitality and mana in the woman through Hunter-Gatherer. If what Darius said was true, and she would be leveraging it all into physical combat, then she would be a very difficult opponent.

Tom ran calculus in his head, trying to decide how outmatched he was. In the end, he decided the answer was ‘extremely’. After considering his options, he decided he was going to have to use some of his contingency plans.

He took out the same poisons he’d used earlier and took another dose of each, restoring his buffs. Then he took out four small wax balls and popped them in his mouth. He held them in two pairs of two, a pair to each side of his mouth, held between his teeth and his cheeks.

Harvey Bubbles had been hard at work creating all sorts of concoctions for Tom to try. It seemed the eccentric alchemist loved the skill as a kind of thought experiment, and had been thinking of all sorts of ideas while Tom was exiled to the Hunters.

With all the wax in his mouth, he felt a bit like a squirrel, but if they worked as Harvey hoped, then they could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Darius gave him a curious look, but didn’t ask any questions.

The runner returned then, with Darius and Adan’s weapons and armour. Darius had replaced the worn armour he’d be wearing on the road, and now had a set of thick leather, over which he slipped on a heavier hauberk. Tom then helped him strap on some enchanted plate overtop.

The enchantments were fairly run-of-the-mill, which was to say they made the armour far better than they would have been without them, but had no fancy functions. Tom was somewhat surprised that Darius had enchanted armour at all, given the rarity of it, but he supposed the monastery would want to spare no expense to protect their healers.

Darius strapped on his sword and looked Tom up and down. Tom grinned, and a moment later his set of enchanted plate appeared on him, summoned directly from its storage.

As the black soulsteel armour, etched and inlaid with red enchanted bloodsteel, appeared, the noise in the hall ebbed for a moment. Tom felt the strange prickly sensation of several different sensory skills passing over him at once. He noticed many monks gesturing to him and discussing with their neighbours.

Tom felt a surge of pride. He knew that his armour was a once in a lifetime windfall that he was incredibly lucky to have. He was incredibly thankful to Scriber for having made it for him. Though he knew Scriber wouldn’t have cared for anyone’s opinion on the work he’d done, Tom still felt good that people could recognise at a glance what superlative quality it was.

Finally, Tom summoned his weapon. For this battle, he chose his axe. He had a feeling the fighting would get up close and personal very quickly. With their last few moments, he leaned in close to Darius, whispering low so as to hopefully not be overheard by their opponents.

“We can do this. We can grind this out so long as you’re alive to heal me. Don’t let them bait you.”

Darius favoured him with a winning smile. “Well, we have to now, do we not? We will be fine. Just keep them off me.”

He clasped Darius by the shoulder. “I will. Remember, don’t panic if it looks like I’m dead.”

Darius winked at him, letting Tom know he’d understood.

Tom rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck, ensuring his armour was sitting correctly. He needn’t have bothered, when he summoned it directly onto himself it was always perfectly fitted.

He adjusted his grip slightly on his axe, eyes flicking to his wisp as he double checked all his buffs.

He glanced at the abbot and abbess. They were both watching the preparations with unconcealed interest.

Darius drew his sword and gave it a few experimental swings. Then the air filled with the quiet sound of buzzing.

Tom smiled as the general clamour ebbed once more. It was one thing to hear of a collective familiar and quite another to see one. The fact that it was a healing familiar only increased the curiosity.

Monks stared in awe as the fat fluffy bees bumbled about, forming a loose cloud around Darius and Tom.

The noise in the hall rose again, but quickly dimmed again as the audience sensed the fight about to begin.

Lyana knelt smoothly, making a fist with her right hand over her heart, and clasping her left hand over it in the fashion the Bloody Monks used to pray. She murmured softly to herself, eyes closed, for a minute before standing smoothly again.

She faced them, serene. Adan still looked a little awestruck.

Tom closed his eyes and centred himself. Darius flashed him a grin.

Abbess Sunrise raised a hand. The hall quieted.

“Begin.”