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110 - An Entirely Predictable Event

  "So, everyone wants to stay inside the soul-bound town to reduce the chances of getting separated?" Nathan said.

  They were sitting in the remains of the survivors' camp. It had been half overgrown, but at the moment, it was eerily quiet. No one was left except for Nathan and a few other members of the raiding party. Everyone else was inside Nathan's soul-bound town.

  "Everyone's in agreement.” Bree shrugged. "Though, I should note that very few of them want to stay there long-term. Actually, seeing what you did has inspired most of them to pursue the Ninth Circle more desperately. Many of them were discussing forming raiding parties and working together to level up."

  “What I did…?”

  "The recording. There was a delver who stayed behind to watch the fight and streamed the whole thing to Dither."

  Chad is going to be pissed.

  “…that's…good."

  "Good? It's great." Bree's eyes widened. "Nathan, don't you remember how many people were just waiting around? How many had given up? So many were just staying in the survivor camp. It was so hard to find people willing to go on raiding parties with us. We had to fight tooth and nail to persuade them. But what you did—it ignited a fire in all of them. They all want to contribute in some way. They all want to march forward toward the Ninth Circle. Think about it, Nathan. An army of delvers. I know you have your mushroom people, but there are only so many of them. The delvers outnumber them by thousands. Now imagine what happens when this spreads, when we go to the next circle and they all rally around you—"

  "I thought I said I didn’t want that."

  Bree snorted. "Yeah, well, it's too late for that. They know who you are. The secret came out as soon as they talked with members of your soulbound town. And then they saw the video. Are you really going to go in there and tell them to look to someone else?”

  Nathan let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples. "So, what does this mean? Am I going to have to do what you were doing before? Set up survivor camps wherever I go?"

  Bree waved him off.

  "Don’t be silly. I’ll take care of that. And it probably won’t even be necessary anymore because people are going to start helping themselves now. They’re going to organize. We’ve already seen that happening." She poked her finger into his chest. "What it means is that you, my friend, are now a symbol. An image. You’re the tip of the spear, the weapon that will drive into the heart of the Nine Circles and lead us to victory."

  Nathan clicked his tongue.

  This was the inevitable consequence of his choices. As soon as he’d opened up his soulbound town, he knew in the back of his mind that this was probably going to happen.

  But that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

  Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets and looked out toward the setting sun.

  "You head inside,” he said. “Get everyone else in. I’ll come in and let you guys know when I’ve made it to the Fourth Circle."

  She gave a lazy salute. "Understood, boss."

  Nathan rolled his eyes and looked back toward the sun. Behind him, he could hear everyone heading into his soul-bound town.

  Soon enough, he was alone.

  Then he heard someone behind him.

  He turned to see Derek, a neutral expression on his face.

  "Derek," Nathan said. "It’s good to see you."

  Derek cracked a smile. "Is it? I would’ve thought that after the circumstances of our last meeting, you’d never want to see me again."

  "I mean…" Nathan kicked at the ground. "You seem to have done a bit of a face-heel turn. You were out there on the battlefield with us. You did good work."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Derek laughed. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

  Nathan gestured toward the portal.

  "I need you to head inside so I can use the spatial passage."

  Derek grimaced.

  "Actually, I needed to talk to you about something before you do that," Derek said.

  "Yeah?"

  "I was talking to some people about the Harrowed Hand," Derek’s fists clenched. "I heard something about them being able to disguise themselves. Is that true?"

  "Yeah. I’m not sure how they do it, but it’s true."

  "Doesn’t that mean there could be a spy inside your town right now?"

  Nathan’s heart dropped.

  "You’re right." Nathan started walking toward the portal. "I need to warn them—"

  "It’s dangerous," Derek said. "It could be anyone. And, you know—this would be the perfect time to strike. Everyone’s exhausted, especially you, right?"

  Nathan nodded absentmindedly.

  He stopped.

  "Derek," Nathan said. "Who were those people you were talking to?"

  "I can’t remember their names."

  Nathan gulped. His throat felt like a desert.

  I’d better be right about this. If I’m wrong, I’ll have a lot of explaining to do.

  He turned, pulled out his harpoon, and threw it directly at Derek.

  Derek’s eyes flickered in surprise…before he just barely dodged the attack, leaving a long, thin trail of blood across his left cheek. On the other cheek, Nathan saw a scar flicker before it vanished.

  Pain shot up Nathan’s spine.

  He looked down to see a knife embedded in his stomach.

  He hadn’t even noticed the attack. He stumbled backward and let out a small groan. His body was weakening even faster than before. He could feel his strength draining out—or what was left of it, anyway.

  "Silas," Nathan said.

  Silas passed his hand over his face and it flickered back into the old man disguise he’d used earlier. "Really? How could you tell it was me?"

  "Chad taught me a thing or two."

  "Chad." Silas snorted. "What a bizarre man. You know how long it took to get this disguise just right? And even then, I tried to avoid him whenever he wasn’t engaged with something else. The boy is just too perceptive for his own good. It was extremely lucky he was too worn out to keep an eye on you or pay better attention to me."

  Nathan wheezed. He reached for the knife and tugged it out. He hissed as his vision blackened.

  "Poisoned blade," Silas said. "You like it?"

  Nathan activated Ocean’s Kiss. The wound closed, and some of the fogginess in his head disappeared.

  And then…it stopped.

  He paled. He had nothing left in the tank now. The earlier fight had exhausted everything he had.

  "Oh, I can see it in your eyes," Silas reached into his inventory and twirled the dagger between his fingers. "It’s a look I’ve seen many times before. The look of a man who realizes he’s doomed."

  The words came out before Nathan could stop himself. "How long were you pretending to be him?"

  "After the first time we fought,” Silas shrugged. "I wanted a way to monitor you more closely. I looked through the list of potential candidates, and the boy seemed to be the ideal option."

  "So back in the forest—"

  "Yes, I was curious to see the limits of your strength for myself. I gave that brat a gun, custom-made by one of my best. I was so certain you would fall then and there. But no, it seems your confidence was well-earned. You truly are the strongest among us, aren’t you?" Silas chuckled and stopped twirling his dagger. "Of course, even an elephant can be taken down with the right tool."

  Nathan took a few more deep breaths. With every second that passed, he could feel some of his power regenerating. But it wasn’t enough—he needed a full night’s rest. Multiple nights’ rest—not a minute.

  "And you waited for this moment?" Nathan said. "Waited for the right opportunity to take me out."

  "It was nothing personal. You represent an existential threat to my organization. To the Head. And after that fiasco where you revealed our involvement, it was very clear you were no longer open to the opportunity of a partnership."

  Nathan took a few more deep breaths.

  "One last question," Nathan said.

  "Sure, ask away."

  "My sister. Is it true? Was she really…the Head’s wife? And is she really dead?"

  Silas reached out and rubbed his hair.

  "Gabriel doesn’t talk much about the past. I know he was married. I know her name was Sarah Lee. But I haven’t the faintest clue if she was really your sister.”

  "The odds aren’t exactly in my favor, though."

  "They’re not." Silas flipped his dagger into a reverse grip. "If it brings you any comfort, she had no idea what Gabriel would do. Indeed, it was her death that turned him into what he is today."

  "But…she is dead, right?" Nathan said.

  "As far as I know. I’m sorry."

  The last few words were absent of his usual playful tone. Silas had delivered the news with the disposition of an executioner holding an ax.

  For that, Nathan was actually somewhat grateful.

  "I see."

  Silas raised the dagger and took another step closer. "Any last words?"

  "Yep. Burn in hell."

  Silas cracked a half-smirk. Nathan felt the last flickers of his magic come to life. He didn’t have the energy to use lightning—his best shot was a rapid attack with water.

  But…Nathan wasn’t sure if he even had the energy for that.

  Still, it was his only shot.

  Silas thrust the dagger like a bullet and leapt forwad.

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