Depthless Hunger-Chapter 222: Interludes Beta (END OF ARC)

As the trees blew ever more violently, Jaminob reluctantly approached with his cutter held high. He would most likely be fine unless he awakened one of the true chakra-bearing trees. Those could squash humans like bugs, but they only roamed in the deepest bowels of the forest.

He wasn't sure why the divine forests had become more dangerous, he only knew that they had been getting worse for his entire life. They were the heart of the Flaeren Dominion's power, but also a terrible risk for the entire nation. Some of the older workers said it was their duty to keep the forests in check to protect all Rosemount. Some of the younger ones claimed that the new threats would make the Dominion strong enough to take on the other great powers. All Jaminob knew was that it was the only job he could get.

Carefully he ventured deeper into the woods, deeper than humans usually dared to go. He didn't have strength like a lamia, scales like a lizardkin, an aura like an elf, or the superior force of the elemental races. When he looked at his own soul, it looked rather paltry.

Name: Jaminob

Total Power: 176

Fist of Blue Wood: Amber Rank (75)

Physique: E-4 (92)

Soul Level: 3 (9)

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His Fist of Blue Wood technique would only work against weaker monsters, and the bladed trees had already scratched through his E-rank Physique. But he forged deeper, using his cutter to sever the worst of the twisted fruit.

So far they'd all been dangerous and all he could do was push them into pits to decompose. Each one was part of his job, but he'd never be rewarded for simply doing that. It took him an hour to find what he'd finally hoped: an intact and untainted divine fruit. He could just see it atop an upper branch, glowing with its own power.

Jaminob carefully trimmed some of the branches in his way and just managed to snare the fruit. When it fell into his hands he could scarcely believe it: chakra coursed through the fruit, practically pushing against his fingers. He felt the intense impulse to take a bite even though it would probably be fatal - possibly immediately, or later if they discovered a mere human laborer had stolen one of the great divine fruits.

To remove the temptation he wrapped it in the cloth he prepared for this purpose - finer than any of his clothes - and rushed it back out of the woods. Thankfully nothing attacked him along his path, and no one interrupted to try to steal what he'd found.

When he reached the work camp at the edge of the forest, however, he was surprised to find that it was packing up. What was wrong? Why would they leave so soon? Jaminob moved nervously around the edges, unsure what was changing but not wanting to pursue.

Then an enormous armored hand reached over his shoulder and plucked the cloth from his hands. Jaminob tried to pull it back before he recognized that he was facing one of his superiors and immediately dropped to one knee. Once there, he tried not to stare at the massive suit of chakra armor, twice his height even if he had been standing.

Not only was this a real warrior, it was Tormundon the Bloodclad! Practically a living legend! A warrior as powerful as him could directly serve a great power like the Windlord... or slay Jaminob where he stood.

"A completely unblemished divine fruit," Tormundon said while handling it surprisingly delicately for his size. "There are not so many still doing their duty in these times."

"I try, my lord," Jaminob stammered.

"Good work. Fist of Blue Wood, is it? Here, a little something for your dedication."

Tormundon turned away, but as he did so he reached into a spatial device in his gauntlet and pulled out a small chip of dark blue bark. He tossed it over his shoulder and Jaminob scrambled to catch it. As soon as he gripped the bark, he began soaking in the raw chakra and almost laughed.

Name: Jaminob

Total Power: 201

Fist of Blue Wood: Garnet Rank (100)

Physique: E-4 (92)

Soul Level: 3 (9)

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The chip had granted him 25 Power, raising him to Garnet Rank and over 200 in total. Now the other workers wouldn't look down on him, and he could even dream about being a guard in one of the cities. And yet, as he looked at the giant retreating from the forest, Jaminob couldn't help but look at his soul as well.

Name: Tormundon the Bloodclad

Total Power: 1061

Heart of Steel: Emerald Rank (525)

Scarmiglione's Steel: Level 5 (125)

Physique: D-6 (230)

Soul Level: 9 (81)

Bloodclad Armor (+100)

>

Tormundon the Bloodclad had 1061 Power. Jaminob just stared at the symbols for a while, then despite all caution, he found himself speaking up.

"Excuse me, Tormundon... why is someone like you out here in the forests?"

"You didn't hear?" The giant armor turned back to glance at him. "The Flaeren Dominion is preparing for war. Rosemount is about to get a lot more interesting."

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The wagon creaked as it flew, but it hadn't failed them so far, so Juray tried not to worry about it. She often glanced around in wonder, realizing that she was further south than she had ever been in her life. That would be true day after day, until they reached the border of Goralia and eventually turned back. Her little potions escorted all the way from Monskon City felt even smaller the more she saw.

"Basically, the theory says that any system can't stay away from a well-functioning state for long," Razz was saying. The young merchant had been strange to her at first, but she'd taken to him. "If it was functioning poorly, another force would exert pressure to change it. Poorly functioning systems will disappear eventually, because they'll be replaced by better ones."

"It's hard to argue with that logic," Juray said. "But how do you know what part of the cycle you're in? That logic could justify propping up a bad system."

"Well, that's a fair point. Everybody is ultimately arguing about what's best, after all."

Juray smiled to make it clear she wasn't trying to fight. "I just worry about those sorts of arguments. Everyone agrees that 'better things are better,' so I worry they only justify what a person wants to believe."

"Hey, it isn't that simple." Razz shifted toward her seriously. "I don't see it as justifying, I see it as a call to understand. If a system is the way it is, there must be a reason. It isn't necessarily a good reason, but there must be one. Before anyone thinks they know best and changes something, it's wise to understand why it was that way in the first place."

"I can understand that, it's just another argument that can be... used by..." Juray trailed off as she spotted something different on the horizon: not another hill or town, this was a moving force.

Razz pressed his lips together and nodded, as if to confirm her unspoken suspicion. The floating vehicle ahead of them was occupied by non-humans, meaning they'd gone far enough south to meet with their contacts. In theory, these were important allies to all Goralia, even if tensions between the fighters had increased in recent years.

Could merchants and humble herbalists help mend that gap? Juray supposed that she was about to find out, one way or another.

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The golden linen sheets slid deliciously over Anaelina's body as she stretched in the bed. She'd forgotten just how good it felt - even the fabric on Rosemount was far superior to the finest she'd been able to find on Deadwaste. This was a better match for her and she knew that anyone who saw her curves wrapped in the sheets would be overcome with lust.

Beside her lay the husk of her newest victim, looking much less picturesque. Anaelina sighed and kicked the half-corpse out of the bed before getting up herself, wrapping the sheet around her. She could absorb so much more strength here, but after boosting herself by around 100 Power, her gains had begun to slow. Perhaps she would need to change strategies soon.

Against her will, Anaelina found herself thinking about the barbarian she usually kept out of her thoughts. She had absorbed a lot of power on Deadwaste, but it was his Class that had taken her over the edge. With that boost to her physical training, she'd gained enough strength to be able to compete on Rosemount.

As she walked out to the merchant's balcony, Anaelina tried not to think about Kai anymore. The link between their souls had been permanently severed, but he still occupied an irritating space in her mind. Somehow he had survived and grown so much... she wondered just how much he had grown since then? Surely his power would have become even more delicious, if she could just find a way to drain it. Part of her hoped she'd never see him again and another part of her lusted for another encounter.

Perhaps she needed to seek a new ability. She had advanced far along her current path and perhaps she could reach for another... the Commonwealth of Traebor was a rich land, and occupied by even more demonic arts users than she remembered. Currently she couldn't touch the strongest, but with the right ability, even the strongest warriors would be vulnerable to her...

Someone landed on a nearby roof and Anaelina whirled to face them. Depending on their vulnerabilities, she could either drop the sheet seductively or fight them naked. Instead she found herself facing a true demon, red eyes boring into hers, and she froze.

"So you're the little 'Silver Demon' seducing our merchants," the demon said. "We need to talk."

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All his life, Tusquo Agyama had served the nation of Irun. It had not always been an easy path, but he had been rewarded for his efforts, both in raw power and in a growing sense of pride. Even though his home was considered weak among the Frontier nations, he only valued it more the more he understood.

Now, kneeling in front of a silver pool on what should have been one of the most honored days of his life, he wished that he knew less.

"It's all true," the Irunian elder said, as if she had seen others with the same reaction. "This is the heart of our strength. This is all we have."

"And I assume that previous generations have already done everything possible to try to restore our past glory?" Tusquo said. Several ideas had come to mind when he heard about their problem, yet if he thought of them immediately, then surely others would have as well.

"All have been futile. And now you bear this secret as well."

"Are all nations like this? Just clinging to a greater legacy as it fades, generation after generation?"

"Who can say?" the elder asked. "The other Frontier nations may not face the same crisis, but in a sense that may be true for everyone. Our world is diminishing, circling a great abyss we do not understand."

Tusquo didn't understand either, but he sat there with his fists on his knees to think. Unless something drastic changed, Irun would be destroyed in the next incursion. He didn't know if he could be the one to change the course of history, but if not him, then who?

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A bubble of pure quintessence hung in the space between worlds, neither physical nor spiritual, denying all interaction with reality around it. Phantoms of experiences passed over the surface like a pearlescent sheen. Inside floated only a field of abstract shapes and a single person who appeared to be a young woman and was in fact far older.

She held an object that was at once a pyramid and cube, twisting its vertices thoughtfully. Her work continued right up until the moment that a statue of chocolate appeared within the unreal space. It thumped and shook a few times, then broke as someone began eating their way out from the inside.

"It is I, Koleiman the Magnificent!" The old man had to stop to finish the chocolate filling his mouth.

"No, it isn't," the woman said, getting to her feet wearily to inspect a column of power along the edge of her sphere. "You broke off a fragment of your soul and injected it in here. Not sure how."

"Ah, but what truly is Koleiman the Magnificent? I contend that anything with similar jaw-dropping magnificence, no matter how small a fragment, is truly Koleiman!"

The woman ignored him, instead shifting to inspect a long silver cord that hadn't existed a moment earlier.

"Come on, Thrice... may I call you Thrice? I like how you have a title, but 'the Fool' is so self-deprecating, not majestic at all."

She set down the cord and it dissolved into the amorphous side of her sphere, then bent down to inspect a piece of the chocolate.

"Hey now, Thrice, there's no need for that," Koleiman said. "I just wanted to ask you a few questions about that practically dead little corner of Detriton. You know, the abyss where everybody fought. I wondered why you set up a repelling barrier of fate."

For the first time Thrice stopped her work and glanced up at him. "Huh."

"Wait, that wasn't you? Oh no, then I've just given you information for nothing..."

"Nah, nice try." She turned away from him and began inspecting one of the constantly mutating shapes around the exterior.

"You don't know that I was trying to get you involved!" Koleiman said cheerfully. "I might have been using reverse-psychology to make you think I wanted you involved. I might be using reverse-reverse-psychology to make you get involved anyway. I might be trying to lock you in analysis paralysis. I might be feinting to distract you from my real plans."

She was back to ignoring him, taking out one object after another to inspect them.

"Don't be like this, Thrice. Aren't we both tricksters standing against the big boring powers? They might have gotten the abyss if not for you. Why shouldn't we be allies in this?"

"Here it is." Thrice suddenly stood holding one object that trembled differently than the others and met the eyes of the strange man. "We aren't the same, Koleiman. You want to analyze and then control everything. I only want to understand myself."

Then she crushed the shape in one hand and a ripple passed through the sphere. Koleiman had an instant to curse and start to move before he was consumed in a twinkling light. Thrice hunted for any fragments of him remaining, then purged her sphere of his influence.

The chocolate remained and had to be removed by hand. As Thrice eliminated it, she began to frown.

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