[Voidknight Ascension] Chapter 271 – Exit the Dragon

Quest Complete: Enter the Dragon

You stuck to your word and not only refused to use a weapon; you prohibited yourself from using your Void mana as well. Though not a part of the original quest, the additional self-imposed restriction has netted you greater rewards. The Empire is watching your progress closely. You gain the following:

Swordsman Experience

[Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style] Experience

(5) [Imperial Grade Health Potion]

(10) [Imperial Grade Alkahest]

(2) [Imperial Coffer]

(1) [Imperial Grade Skill Potion]

Level Up!

Your [Swordsman] Job has reached Level 43.

+9 Strength | +9 Vigor | +5 Agility | +5 Dexterity

+3 Bonus Points

Level Up!

Your [Swordsman] Job has reached Level 44.

+9 Strength | +9 Vigor | +5 Agility | +5 Dexterity

+3 Bonus Points

Level Up!

Your [Swordsman] Job has reached Level 45.

+9 Strength | +9 Vigor | +5 Agility | +5 Dexterity

+3 Bonus Points

Your [Eight Trigrams: Dreadfang Style] Ability has reached (★ Common).

Level Up!

Your [Voidknight] Legend has Level 38.

+4 to all Stats

+1 to all Talents

“Samuel Hunter?” a gruff voice asked before Sam could even look through his rewards, let alone assign his stat points.

“Yes?” Sam asked, looking up into the same cold piercing eyes he had seen watching him before. Both men wore deep cobalt armor that looked like light cloth, but Sam could feel the powerful magic radiating off the fabric.

With so much magic woven into the armor, he wondered why the pair didn’t glow like a lighthouse beacon. Sam had no doubt that their armor would turn aside blows that would shear straight through Sam’s metallic breastplate.

So many works of art here, Sam thought to himself. If only I could learn a few techniques, I could increase the odds of everybody’s survival back home.

“We would like you to come with us. The Empire–”

“Is not trying to poach my prize student, I take it?” Zahif asked, his hand on Sam’s shoulder. The older man appeared out of thin air beside him.

The two cobalt-clad men looked just as surprised as Sam. “The Imperial Court–” one of the men began, but was quickly cut off again.

“Has outlawed my use of such techniques,” Zahif finished for him. “But not his. I am sure the Emperor would be very interested to hear the Immortals sniffing around my only student. In fact, perhaps I should speak to him about it over chai this afternoon? I know how busy he is, what with his son coming of age and all, but he is still a close, personal friend of mine. I am sure he will make time.”

The Immortals looked at one another. “No, Master Zahif. That will not be necessary. We were only interested in furthering the interests of the Empire.”

“Naturally.”

“What was all that about?” Sam asked once the Immortals were gone. They were soon replaced by another group coming toward him, one that Zahif waved off with a gnarled hand.

“Later,” he told Sam. He clapped his hands and rubbed them briskly together. “Now that it seems my afternoon chai appointment is open, why don’t you and I go to a teahouse for some well-earned relaxation?”

Sam wanted to ask again what was going on, but something in Zahif’s eyes stopped him. He had to trust his master, didn’t he? Otherwise, what was the point?

Sam nodded and followed Zahif, which allowed him to have a great deal of breathing room. Nobody bothered Zahif after he announced himself. He seemed to dislike the attention. The people of the Empire respected his wishes.

However, you couldn’t argue the effect. Sam and Zahif moved through the throngs of people as if the old man had a personal bubble 10-feet-wide. Nobody dared to cross in front of him or invade his personal space.

Whispers and stares followed them wherever they went.

Zahif took Sam through so many winding passages and up three flights of stairs before he turned into a nondescript arch. There was no sign. No mention of an establishment.

Even still, Sam felt he would have turned into the arch all the same. The wondrous smells that wafted out nearly grabbed him by the nose and dragged him into the courtyard beyond.

Gauzy curtains of embroidered cloth hung from nearly every arch and pillar in the courtyard. Seating like the Scarlet Lotus was arranged in neat little squares within pillars or arches.

Despite the dozens of patrons eating and drinking, Sam couldn’t hear a single word. The silence was oddly comforting. He could hear the breeze blowing through the curtains. The clink and rattle of coffee and tea mugs by the serving staff. The familiar hiss of espresso being made and the comforting burble of somebody steaming milk made him feel at home.

A lean man with a pencil mustache and a richly embroidered vest appeared at Zahif’s side as if he was summoned. “Ah, Master Zahif and his young protege! Shall I prepare your usual table?”

“Please,” Zahif said with a smile. He handed a small pouch of coins to the man, hidden in the palm of his hand as they shook. “I would appreciate it if we were never here.”

“Never fear,” the attendant said without missing a beat. “In fact, I do believe the Immortals are looking for you in the Lion Gardens.”

“Very good.” When the attendant moved to guide him, Zahif stopped him with a raised hand. “I know the way, thank you.”

“As you wish.”

Zahif led Sam through the crowds of people, weaving around the gauzy curtains through lanes paved with decorative tiles. They walked over tall arched bridges under which burbling streams filled with colorful fish darted back and forth, their scales glinting in the afternoon light.

The courtyard seemed no larger than a tennis court when he first arrived. As they walked, it seemed to unfold and expand around them. When it seemed like they had walked for nearly the length of a football field, Sam stopped and opened his mouth to speak.

Zahif held up his hand and shook his head warningly. He had been utterly silent since the first exchange with the attendant. Only the sound of his slippered feet and Sam’s greaves could be heard.

Komachi made a low meow. Even his cat had sensed the atmosphere was special.

If Komachi isn’t going to break the silence, it sure as hell isn’t going to be me.

Instead, Sam set his bonus points. With 9 at his disposal, he spent the bulk of them on Agility. The remainder went into Resonance of all things. Sam chose both based on the advice from Zahif. Areas that Sam lacked and could improve if he had the spare points.

They finally arrived at a small island of stone bordered on four sides by the fish-filled stream.

Zahif sighed loudly as he sat down. “Now we can talk freely and have a nice cup of chai. Unless you prefer kaf?”

“Kaf,” Sam agreed. Komachi perked up. “One for Komachi too.”

Zahif nodded. “It is my treat, after all.”

“So, what was with the Immortals back there?” Sam asked, getting straight to the point. He had more practice sitting on the pillows and rugs around the low-lying table since his first day in the Empire, but it was still awkward.

He always felt as if he was doing something wrong.

Zahif folded his arms and looked up at the single pendant lantern hanging above them. Several thin curtains spread out from the chain, encasing them in breezy sheets that were so sheer they disappeared if they weren’t moving.

“It is difficult,” Zahif said at length.

“Difficult to understand, maybe.”

Komachi slinked around the pillows, attacking their colorful tassels.

“The Immortals are always seeking the best and strongest,” Zahif explained. “You would have been on their radar from the moment you showed yourself during the assault on the city. They use the incursions for more things than you could ever guess at. One of the more obvious purposes is to discover viable candidates.”

“To become an Immortal?” Sam asked incredulously.

Zahif nodded. “You must understand, Sam. They do not usually ask. That is not to say they are bad people. Misguided, perhaps. Overzealous. But they only seek to empower the Empire and keep her citizens safe. It is a noble goal, but one must be wary of gazing too long into the abyss–”

“Because when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back,” Sam finished for him.

Zahif’s look of surprise told Sam that he might have shown a bit too much of his hand. It was a fairly popular Nietzsche quote, though he likely mangled it a bit.

“I did not take you for a scholar.”

Sam shrugged, hoping to quickly move past it.

“As you say, those who seek to fight such beasts often become them in one way or another. The Emperor has tried repeatedly to reign in their behavior and has only recently been successful. Thankfully, my relationship with the man has a myriad of benefits.”

“Such as stopping the Men in Blue from taking me and doing…whatever it is they do,” Sam guessed.

“Precisely. Now that we’re past such nastiness, tell me, how did you like the dreadfang style?” Zahif’s eyes flashed with interest as he leaned closer.

“It was surprisingly easy to use,” Sam admitted. “It felt like my hands and feet were moving of their own accord.”

“Sam fisted lots of things!” Komachi said excitedly, her mouth around the edge of a pillow she was biting. “But your dreadfang ain’t got sheet on my bunny kick style!”

Just to illustrate her point, Komachi bunny kicked the pillow. Because of how she was holding onto it with her paws, it spun like a wheel. Each tassel slapped her in the face, eliciting an aggrieved meow, but that hardly stopped her.

Ever since the apocalypse, Komachi had been significantly smarter than she had been back on Earth. Even still, he often caught her doing decidedly cat-like things.

Not just normal cat things either. Orange cat things.

He had watched her groom her back paw, only for it to twitch and hit her in the face. She bit the foot, which then began to kick her face even faster. Komachi must have kicked her own muzzle a few dozen times before she realized it was her own leg doing the kicking.

Zahif smiled warmly at Komachi’s antics, then turned his gaze toward Sam.

They talked until the sun went down about the finer points of the real-world application of Zahif’s style, and much more. The Empire itself was a wondrous thing to Sam. Something he hoped to emulate.

Minus the Men in Blue snatching people, of course.

Zahif was more than happy to share tales of his adventures. They ordered lunch to go with their drinks, then dinner as well.

Sam couldn’t remember the last time he had such a pleasant conversation without something horrible interrupting it. He felt at peace despite the constant monster incursions.

There was something oddly resilient about the Empire and her people. The Imperials were always quick to rebound. Less than an hour after an incursion, people would be back at the markets to get the best price on a rare onyx pineapple from Pineapple Sam’s stall.

Even that was enjoyable and silly for Sam.

Back home, on Sil’mara, he was a leader. Somebody dreadfully important who–if he was being entirely honest–just fell into the role.

He wasn’t a king by nature. Sam liked leading, but he didn’t want to govern. Those were two very different things. You could lead from the front, enjoying the fun and action. How could you govern from the front? It was all policy and decisions. Ruling on things he couldn’t care less about and being argued at with people who ought to know better.

Not that Sam could be sure that’s how it went, but that was what politics were like back home. He didn’t imagine, so long as there were people involved, that one form of governance was much different from another.

At least, not for the man governing.

It’s not like you’re going to be a tyrant who would kill anybody who argued with him.

Sam couldn’t even imagine what would drive a person to want to willingly harm people like that.

Here in the Empire, Sam was just “that Pineapple Sam guy” or “Zahif’s Pupil”. He was known as something only in relation to something even bigger and more important than himself.

It was refreshing.

That was when Sam got an idea. He leaned over onto the table, placing his elbows on the hard wooden surface. “Zahif…how many master Blacksmiths do you know?”

The old man’s eyes lit up. “Only the best. I seem to recall you had a small forge you used to help the ship out. If you have more of a mind for fancy armaments, I know of quite a few that would offer you some of their time and expertise. If I phrased it the right way. Would you like me to introduce you to them?”

It was Sam’s turn to grin like a kid. “I would love nothing more.”