novelraw Chapter 131 - Down and Down // Is the Eastern Courtesy
Chapter 131 - Down and Down // Is the Eastern Courtesy
Metal bashed through a door. A table shattered. Half a dozen voices rose in angry overlap, harsh and territorial.
“Find the Myrmur Hosts!”
“They stole our fucking miners!”
“Lock it down now!”
Gael sighed as he peeked through the crack in the doors behind him, eyeing the heavily armored men who’d just barged into the forge.
Welp. I knew they’d find us eventually.
No other way out, then.
Maeve flicked her briefcase into its umbrella form, and he unsheathed his bladed cane as they both stepped out of the room, re-entering the forge. True enough, half a dozen Steelborn gangsters in heavy scrap armor and iron gas masks had spilled through the demolished front doors, wielding heavy hammers and axes as they glared at the rescued Hosts resting along the walls. Panic spread fast. Bodies tried to stand. Unfortunately, the Hosts were still recovering, so most of them could only stare at the gangsters while gripping their bowls and blankets in utter fear.
One Steelborn grinned with his eyes and raised his large cleaver at the nearest Host. Gael frowned. A scalpel flashed from his fingers as he chucked it forward, and it slammed between the seams of the man’s chest plate, making the man jerk back a step, confused. Then Gael snatched the nearest chair and hurled it at max strength, throwing the man back into an inactive machine with a clanging groan.
Heh.
Serves you right.
“It's them!” one of the others barked, pointing. “Get them—”
But Maeve already snapped her umbrella open and fired. Blood cannons thundered through the forge. The first shot punched a charging Steelborn off his feet and sent him skidding across the floor, armor screeching. The second took another in the shoulder, lifted him like a puppet, and hurled him through the nearest window. Glass exploded out into the rainy night. His scream dropped away as he fell.
Maeve didn’t slow down. She fired again and again, three more blood cannons echoing until all six Steelborn were gone, and for one sweet moment, the forge was pretty damn quiet.
Then more voices swelled in the stairwell past the broken front doors like floodwater.
“More men! Up! Up! They’re here!”
Maeve snapped her head at Arnell in the back. “Keep the Hosts reigned in. Move all of them to some abandoned squatter nearby. We’ll find you in a bit.”
While Arnell nodded anxiously, already standing to herd the Hosts up as gently as he could, Gael trudged past the shattered doors and into the dimly lit stairwell.
He peered over the railings with a bottle of alcohol in hand.
The forge was pretty high up, all things considered, so all he saw when he looked down was fifteen, maybe twelve floors full of Steelborn gangsters running up the stairs in spirals. All of them were heavily armored. Even heavily armed. He didn’t doubt most of them had some sort of Standard Beetle Class as well, if not even Advanced Beetle Classes, so to take out fifty or sixty of them here…
Well, it’d be a little troublesome.
“That’s a lot of them,” Maeve breathed, joining him in peering over the railings. “How many points did we get from the Blight-Class Myrmur and the Wreth-Class Myrmur hearts again?”
“About six hundred for the both of us.”
“Oh? Then let’s do the tier 3 branch mutation selection now.”
[Basic Vision Lvl. 4 / Basic Vision Lvl. 4 → Basic Vision Lvl. 5 / Basic Vision Lvl. 5]
[Basic Setae Lvl. 4 / Basic Setae Lvl. 4 → Basic Setae Lvl. 5 / Basic Setae Lvl. 5]
[Basic Spiracles Lvl. 4 / Basic Spiracles Lvl. 4 → Basic Spiracles Lvl. 5 / Basic Spiracles Lvl. 5]
[Points: 602 vBe → 26 vBe / 622 vBe → 46 vBe]
[Branch Mutation Selection available for T3 Core Mutation ‘Basic Vision’]
[First Branch Mutation Option: Prismatic Vision]
[Brief Description: Your compound lenses will evolve to refract and analyze light at different wavelengths, allowing you to see heat signatures and ultraviolet markings]
[Second Branch Mutation Option: Reflexive Vision]
[Brief Description: Your compound lenses will further develop even more photoreceptors, allowing you to reduce image resolution in favor of even faster detection of movement]
[Brief Description: Your compound lenses will further develop a reflective layer that automatically reduces glare and sudden increases in brightness]
[Third Branch Mutation Option: Reflective Vision]
[Brief Description: Your compound lenses will further develop a reflective layer that automatically reduces glare and sudden increases in brightness]
[Branch Mutation Selection available for T3 Core Mutation ‘Basic Setae’]
[First Branch Mutation Option: Flexible Setae]
[Brief Description: Your setae will become even more elastic, improving your ability to adhere to irregular and uneven surfaces like jagged rocks or craggy walls]
[Second Branch Mutation Option: Sealant Setae]
[Brief Description: Your setae will further develop a sticky coating, allowing you to cling to slippery and submerged surfaces like wet glass or algae-covered stone]
[Third Branch Mutation Option: Adaptive Setae]
[Brief Description: Your setae will further develop automatic orientation and balancing mechanisms, improving your adherence to shifty and unstable surfaces]
[Branch Mutation Selection available for T3 Core Mutation ‘Basic Spiracles’]
[First Branch Mutation Option: Cooling Spiracles]
[Brief Description: Your spiracles will further evolve additional vascular tubules, allowing your body to dissipate heat more efficiently. This also grants higher resistance to heat and reduces stamina loss from overheating]
[Second Branch Mutation Option: Wicking Spiracles]
[Brief Description: Your spiracles will further evolve hydrophobic microstructures, preventing fungal infections or blockages in your respiratory system caused by excess humidity. This mutation also improves your endurance in damp or wet environments]
[Third Branch Mutation Option: Heating Spiracles]
[Brief Description: Your spiracles will further develop internal heating structures that regulate airflow temperature, preventing cold-induced respiratory sluggishness. This branch mutation also enhances your endurance in frigid environments and reduces the risk of moisture buildup within your respiratory system]
With all the branch mutation options for their tier 3 core mutations laid out in front of them, it should’ve been tough decisions for both of them, but after looking the options over—then looking at each other, and then back down the stairwell with the Steelborn rushing up—they only needed a second longer of deliberation to make their choices.
“I mean, we have to go to Wraithpier at some point,” Gael muttered. “It’s gonna be wet and slippery all the time.”
“And Umbracross is dark, while Ironwych is hot and suffocating as all hell,” Maeve mumbled. “Let’s pick the same options?”
“Yep.”
[Basic Vision Lvl. 5 / Basic Vision Lvl. 5 → Prismatic Vision Lvl. 5 / Prismatic Vision Lvl. 5]
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[Brief Description: The Hunter / Host has evolved prismatic compound lenses over their eyes that give them a wider field of view, in addition to being able to refract and analyze light at different wavelengths, allowing them to see heat signatures and ultraviolet markings. Subsequent levels in this mutation will further increase their field of view]
[Basic Setae Lvl. 5 / Basic Setae Lvl. 5 → Sealant Setae Lvl. 5 / Sealant Setae Lvl. 5]
[Brief Description: The Hunter / Host has evolved microscopic sealant setae across their skin that will allow them to cling to and move on walls, which includes slippery and submerged surfaces. Subsequent levels in this mutation will decrease the stamina drain from sticking on walls]
[Basic Spiracles Lvl. 5 / Basic Spiracles Lvl. 5 → Cooling Spiracles Lvl. 5 / Cooling Spiracles Lvl. 5]
[Brief Description: The Hunter / Host has evolved cooling spiracles around their necks, allowing them to regulate their oxygen intake more efficiently and increasing their resistance to suffocation, airborne toxins, and cold-induced respiratory sluggishness. Subsequent levels in this mutation will enhance their oxygen efficiency and provide limited protection against harmful mists or gases]
Unlike the tier 2 branch mutations, which took a while to settle in, these branch mutations came in fast and hard. Both of them winced as their eyes and setae and spiracles began mutating, and Gael, especially, saw the world getting immediately brighter in his eyes.
“Okayyyyyyy,” he slurred, chugging his bottle of alcohol. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Maeve lifted her umbrella and swept it horizontally, releasing a wave of non-toxic blood that spilled down the stairwell like poured oil. It slid fast
, coating every step as it ran downwards and turning stone into a treacherous sheen that was even slippier than it looked. Shouts rose as the highest Steelborn quickly lost their footing, unfamiliar with fighting on wet ground.At the same time, Gael flicked his cane up and severed the chandelier’s chain. The heavy fixture fell and vanished into the depths below, and with it went the last honest light in the stairwell.
Darkness swallowed everything. The panic sharpened, voices colliding and overlapping as the gangsters cursed and stumbled and slipped on their own two feet completely blind.
Time to go.
Gael and Maeve leaned into the descent and practically slid down the steps, charging head-first into the chaos. Gael carved with his bladed cane in short, brutal arcs, cracking armor seams and striking joints, while Maeve smashed forward with her umbrella, drilling, hooking, and firing blood cannons at close range to throw bodies into one another.
Fists slammed. Knees rose. Steel rang against steel as they moved like lunatics loosed down the steps. The Steelborn were tough—their thick armor and their large bodies were practically bred for punishment—but it didn’t matter. ‘Prismatic Vision’ allowed the two of them to see in the dark even better, as if Gael didn’t already have his night vision lenses, while ‘Sealant Setae’ kept their footing sure on the slick steps where others flailed. And though Ironwych’s stairwell was a suffocating furnace of trapped heat and poor air, ‘Cooling Spiracles’ kept their breaths steady, their bodies sharp, even as sweat steamed off metal.
They carved down through dozens of men, leaving groaning heaps behind them. Gael barked out a laugh—exhilarated, half-mad with the rhythm of it.
“Now this!” he crowed, kicking low and sending another man tumbling down the stairs. “This is a proper—”
The hammer came from nowhere.
It smashed into his chest with a bone-jarring force, and the wall behind him exploded as he was launched through brick and mortar, bursting into the rain-slick night. For a few seconds he soared through the air—and free-flight with a stomach full of alcohol was a horrible recipe for nausea—but he managed to hit the adjacent rooftop hard, rolling instinctively before somehow managing to get back on his feet.
Wheee.
Holy… head… is spinning…
He knocked his own temples and got his brain in order. Right. He’d been knocked out of the stairwell. Three Steelborn now leaped through the hole in the wall with their weapons reared back, intending on pursuing him out, so he snapped his right hand up and cackled.
“Don’t bite too hard!”
His three giant hungry flowers bloomed, shooting out and snapping the gangsters mid-air. Screams tore free as armor bent and bodies were caught. He heaved and turned, flinging the flowers to the side like whips and sending the gangsters alike into a neighboring building, where they smashed through and vanished in a cacophony of collapsing metal.
A heartbeat later, Maeve was hurled through a window beside the hole in the wall where he was smashed out, glass exploding as she flew, hit the roof, and landed on her feet. She fired immediately, blood cannons knocking down the gangsters trying to leap across after her as well.
Man, why does she look so much cooler than me while fighting?
They locked eyes for a brief second—rain streaking masks, breaths steaming in the cold—before an amused voice spoke behind them.
“Well, well. So these are the two southern rats I’ve been hearing about.”
They whirled.
On a higher roof stood a lightly dressed man crowned with massive beetle horns, a beetle-patterned mask, and twin curved blades resting easily in his hands. Behind him, across the sprawl of cluttered metal roofs, dozens more Steelborn waited in loose formation, silent and watching.
Damn.
They really brought out a small army for us.
“I am Cadrik, Third-Ranked Stonehand of the Steelborn,” the man said lazily, lifting one blade and pointing it loosely down at the two of them. “I’ve heard stories, you know. Two southern Exorcists cutting into our business like they own the place. Myrmur miners go missing. Hearts go missing. Steelborn men go flying out windows. Now you’re on my roofs, so tell me—”
Gael groaned and activated his Art, pumping blood and attribute levels into Maeve. She didn’t hesitate for a second. She fired a blood cannon straight down, propelling herself at obscene speed across the air, and by the time Cadrik’s head turned, it was a fraction too late.
Her boot met his mask, and his beetle-patterned iron faceplate fractured, then shattered, pieces spinning away into the rain. The rest of the impact carried through, and his entire body flew off the roof, crashing through the wall of a distant building in an explosion of brick and rusted metal.
The small army of Steelborn behind him froze.
“... Fuck off already,” Gael drawled, waving them off. “First we beat the Five Fingers of the Repossessors two years ago, and then we beat the Four Overseers of the Black Eye, and then the Three… whatever-the-fuck of whoever-the-fuck, captains, lieutenants, small-time gang bosses. I’m so goddamn tired of you nobodies. I’m a Plagueplain Doctor,
damnit. Why am I fighting mooks instead of Myrmurs?”Then he let his shoulders slump, looking past the Steelborn and towards a particularly large, sharp-roofed fortress in the far distance.
“So tired, in fact, I just got an idea on how to end our little vacation in Ironwych soon,” he mumbled. His eyes cut back to Arnell’s forge behind them, high up. Through one of the very muddy windows above him, he caught a slight movement. As it turned out, Jin could see through the window, because the chained man was now staring down at all of them. “After all, if there’s anybody else in Ironwych who might know about artificial Myrmur Hosts apart from that unconscious lady and those two Exorcists up there…”
He drew his bladed cane back and threw it up.
The cane spun end over end like a black needle, arced up through the rain, and punched clean through the forge window. It could’ve missed and impaled Jin through the head, but instead, it sliced cleanly through the chains binding his arms with a sharp snap—and he grinned, feeling satisfied with himself.
What a throw! Hah!
The Steelborn started moving again, shouting, charging and hopping across the roofs towards him. He didn’t move. He waited, hands open at his sides, like he was welcoming guests into his clinic.
… You want to know what I know about artificial Myrmur Hosts too, right?
A beat before the first gangster reached him, muddy blood roared down from above. Jin had re-equipped his gauntlet. The wave hit the charging Steelborn and knocked them off their feet in a single violent sweep. Then the mud hardened mid-splash, swallowing ankles and knees, crawling up armor seams and turning all of the men into shouting half-statues.
Gael looked up at the window. “Thanks,” he called cheerily.
“I’m not doing this for you you,” Jin called back down.
A moment later, Jin dropped down onto the roof with Vivi in a princess carry, crash-landing in a sturdy crouch. Vivi’s face was red as a furnace and she looked like she wanted to evaporate, but it didn’t seem like Jin noticed at all.
Oh?
Interesting.
Jin set her down carefully, then leveled a glare at Gael. “I’m investigating the artificial Myrmur Hosts too, so I need to know what you know.”
“I got that much.” Gael produced another bottle of alcohol from his coat and popped the cork with his thumb, waving at the Steelborn absentmindedly. “Have at it, then.”
Vivi hovered beside Gael like a skittish shadow, hands clasped tight at her waist as rain ticked against the roof. Gael, for his part, hung back and watched the carnage unfold with idle interest. After all, Maeve and Jin were Exorcist Hunters—more expert fighters than he’d ever be—so they tore across the neighboring roofs, smashing armored bodies into chimneys, pinning limbs with mud-hard blood, knocking gangsters senseless and leaving them sprawled without bothering to finish the job. It was clean work, disciplined work. Proper disciplining work.
Gael hummed appreciatively as he tracked their movement from roof to roof, then casually reached into his coat and produced another bottle of alcohol, holding it out at Vivi.
“Want some?”
She recoiled instantly, shoulders jerking as if he’d offered her a live insect. “W… What is that?”
“85% alcohol,” he replied cheerfully. “I can almost drink 86% like water now. Building tolerance is very important for one’s long-term health. Want a sip?”
“N-no. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself. More for me.”
He tipped the bottle back and drained it without ceremony, laughing hoarsely as he lowered it. By the time the bottle was empty, the night had settled again—quiet, relatively speaking. The last Steelborn lay defeated across the rooftops, groaning softly and locked stiff in hardened mud.
A moment later, Maeve and Jin returned, landing in front of Gael and Vivi in sync. Both of them folded their weapons back into their compact briefcase forms with practiced ease.
“Don’t offer someone your alcohol,” Maeve said, fixing him with a sharp scowl.
“What? I was just being courteous?”
She opened her mouth to argue, clearly ready to launch into a familiar reprimand, but Jin stepped forward before she could. His gaze stayed on Gael, intent and unblinking.
“You said you had a plan,” he said. “You said you knew who else might know something about the artificial Myrmur Hosts. Who is it?”
Gael regarded him for a beat, rain sliding down the beak of his mask.
Then he grinned.
“Let’s go pay the boss of the Steelborn a visit,” he said lightly. “We can share what we know about the artificial Myrmur Hosts on the way.”