Lament of the Slave

Honestly, more notifications popped up in my mind than I would have expected from such a short match. It made me question my training under Deckard. I was pushing my limits a lot down there in the Labyrinth and have never been rewarded so generously. The only reasonable explanation seemed to be that this fight was what most of my skills needed, a little nudge.

 

• Painless Agony reaches lvl 23
• Painless Agony reaches lvl 24

...

• Master’s Shield reaches lvl 17

...

• Swift as a Whip reaches lvl 23

...

• Perfect Equilibrium reaches lvl 19

...

• Spatial Domain reaches lvl 20

...

• Never-Dying reaches lvl 39

...

• Inner Perception reaches lvl 11
• Inner Perception reaches lvl 12

 

Though for the effort I put in my training, it was damn little. A thought I didn’t dare say out loud, knowing that others saw it differently. Stuck and not growing themselves, they’d envy me, saying it wasn’t fair, that I didn’t deserve it. Sour people like that, pissed off at their own inability, often didn’t even want to see reason. They wouldn’t care that my skills were woefully under-leveled for my level, that I tried my best day after day, shedding tears and blood. 

The undeniable truth was when you stop challenging yourself. You stop growing, no less true on Earth. Some people get used to it and become content. For others, the stagnation resulting from that has been the source of constant frustrations and envy.

There was no need to look around to know that there were people of that nature, even among the city guards. I heard them in the noise that troubled my ears. Hence my effort to stand still and not move a muscle.

Damn hard, especially when I looked at the most important notification.

• [YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL 99]

Class level-up! How the hell did I manage that?

There was no order that I obeyed, not one that I was aware of except for the fact that I was part of this whole shebang. That couldn’t be it, could it? No, that wouldn’t give me a level. So I thought deeper, coming across what Deckard told me. To kick their asses. But seriously, did this count? They pretty much took themselves out. 

Then I remembered the bet, proof of his trust in me. Perhaps it was his wish for me to win that I fulfilled.

Whatever the reason was, it moved me closer to getting rid of this dependence on the ‘master’ and his orders. Sure, I already found a way around it, but each time it made me wonder whose order I had fulfilled or whom and how I had pleased. So damn humiliating every time. 

Evolution was my hope that would change, that my new class would require me to take a different approach.

A glance at my Status Screen, made me laugh with joy in my mind. Just one level. If everything goes as it has so far, a day, two at most, and everything will be different. Slave, class I hated, will be gone.

That is, assuming Evolution gives me something other than the three standard options for Slaves.

 

Name: Korra Grey

Race: Human/Beast

Gender: Female

Age: 29

Class: Slave (Master - None)

Level: 98 -> 99

[Unspent Stat Points: 4 -> 5]

 

Constitution: 73 (39)

Strength: 40 (23)

Endurance: 31 (25)

Dexterity: 23 (23)

Intelligence: 19 (11)

Wisdom: 17

(10)

 

Class Skills (6/6):

Indomitable Will (Passive V): lvl 118

Painless Agony (Passive II): lvl 22 -> lvl 24

Tireless Machine (Passive II): lvl 27

Swift as a Whip (Active II):  lvl 22 -> lvl 23

Master’s Lover (Passive I): lvl 6

Master’s Shield (Active II):  lvl 16 -> lvl 17

 

General Skills (8/8):

Eleaden Standard Language (Passive I): lvl 4 -> lvl 3

Perfect Equilibrium (Passive II):  lvl 18 -> lvl 19

Spatial Domain (Passive II):  lvl 19 -> lvl 20

Beast (Passive II): lvl 29

Never-Dying (Passive III): lvl 38 -> lvl 39

Tail of Poison Empress (Active II): lvl 12

Heart of Magic (Passive I): lvl 9

Inner Perception (Active II): lvl 10 -> lvl 12

 

Until recently, ignorant of how the system actually worked, I had to go through tiers-ups by sheer luck. There was no other explanation. Now, it wasn’t hard for me to understand that [Heart of Magic] and [Beast] were both stuck on what Deckard called bottlenecks. 

No, I take it back. It wasn’t luck. 

Tier-ups just require doing what the skills were designed for, at least at low levels. Like [Inner Perception], I limited myself by not looking at the core in my underbelly. All I had to do was use the skill the way it was supposed to be used, and the tier-up came.

I didn’t ask Aspen, but [Heart of Magic] was about mana. It wasn’t hard to imagine that moving on required me to master its control and most probably use it outside of my body. Something that couldn’t be rushed, according to her. Though the prospect of doing real magic, visible to the naked eye, made me excited anyway.

[Beast] was what I was so concerned about. Last time, it required surrendering to my inner beast, and I couldn’t think of anything else but go deeper. I was no longer afraid of the change. Esu showed me what I am, and I accepted it. What I was worried about was being unable to go back. The current level of beastification was taking away my ability to speak human language, and I couldn’t say I had full control of my instincts in that state either. So what if I go further in the change? I’ve felt for a while now that I could, if I wanted to, just...didn’t dare.

“Did you seriously gain a level?” Freyde asked without regard to the volume of his voice as he could not believe what he was seeing.

Meneur’s grumble was much easier on my ears. “She had to. All I see now is class and a question mark.”

Oh, there was now more than a fifty-level difference between us. Like I couldn’t see past level 149 to him, I was too strong for him to see mine. Well, strong was a bit of a stretch. It went entirely against the way I saw myself and those around me.

Not giving in to this strange notion, I gave the ears-burned-elf nod. “Yeah, I’m level ninety-nine now.”

“Damn, so I didn’t hit my head,” he said, surprisingly relieved. “I thought I’d finally lost it, seeing the weird numbers.”

That was a...peculiar fear to have. Not commenting on his sanity, I looked sympathetically at the taurus. “Sorry, I know how much this sucks.”

“Do you?” questioned Harper sharply. “Because for me, there’s hardly anyone in the barracks whose level I don’t see as a question mark.”

“That’s...” I stopped short, realizing that with her level, it had to be so. All the city guards have gone through their class evolution. Thinking about it and looking around, they were all more like level 120 and higher, beyond what the system allowed her to see. 

“Don’t mind me, Korra,” Meneur said with a sad smile on his lips. “I’ve been around stronger clansmen all my life. It just means I have to push my old bones harder to catch up with you.” 

“We’ll see about that,” I returned his smile, pointing above my head. “I’m not exactly slacking off.”

It wasn’t meant to sound like I was bragging, so I was relieved when he let out a deep nasal laugh. “That I can see.” Then Meneur looked at Harper. “Pay no mind to her either. Everyone was once on our level, in our shoes. Some just longer.”

“Hey,” the baker objected. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t envy her...well, I do, but....” She looked at me. “... it’s not that I’m mad at you. It’s more like I’m pissed at myself.” She paused, hesitating to say more. “How did you, as a slave, manage to gain a level during combat? I’ve been trying that for over three years now.”

That took me back. Three years and she hasn’t come up with a solution? “What about the other bakers?”

She sneered. “You think I didn’t ask? All they know is how to bake.”

When Rayden gave her speech about opening the mind, I was thinking of it as a lofty talk she gave to all the new recruits, just a reminder of what’s important. Not that people were actually that ignorant of their own classes, living in their comfortable little bubbles guided by the system. Harper was trying to break free from such a bubble, but found it too hard. If this was the case for the whole Empire, it was sad, kind of scary, too.

Honestly, I gave too little credit to the Captain’s speech and her efforts to get them to open their minds.

“Three? Try five like me?” Freyde laughed hopelessly. “When I asked around, everyone laughed at me. Granny even threatened to disinherit me if I picked up a sword. She didn’t, by the way. I tried what I could think of, but in the end, the only way for me to get a level is to count the ledgers for bigger and bigger pricks.”

All I could muster was, “Oh.”

“Don’t look at me,” Meneur said, raising his hands defensively when we all turned to him, wanting to hear his leveling struggles. “For the first time in my life, I can practice my magic freely here.”

What was his magic, anyway? I made a mental note to ask him, later though. First, I went back to the conversation I had with the librarian when I met him. “You all think I need a master to level, don’t you?” Maybe it was just my feeling, a mistaken assumption, that the general ignorance was due to not sharing information. A terrible thing even on Earth, making people blind sheep in the hands of those in the know. False information was no less a terrible tool. So I did my best to pass on my experience to them, knowing full well that the Squad Four weren’t the only ones listening. “The system is not as straightforward as you think...”

...

“You were right, Deckard. She’s something else.” I heard Rayden whisper while I tried to explain the mystery behind my leveling to the others. Not something I completely figured myself out yet. “Ever since I inherited the old guardsmen, I’ve been trying to get it into their heads that the classes aren’t that simple. Just like the General taught us.”

“And you did a good job,” Deckard assured her.

“Did I? Look at her,” she said, disbelief seeping into her voice. “I expected it would take weeks, at least, for them to accept that there was maybe another way than kneading a dough. It took her a few minutes.” She glanced around. “Even the old stubborn bastards are listening.”

He looked around too. “It’s hard to deny what you see with your own eyes.”

“Haven’t I shown them over and over again what they can achieve if they get rid of their obsolete thinking,” she argued back, lamenting what she did wrong.

Deckard hummed. “Hey, maybe they listen now, but what they take to heart is another matter,” he said in his easygoing tone that made you think there were no worries in the world. “You know what they say. You can’t teach an old hound new tricks.”

“Yeah,” Rayden let out a sigh. “If only two of them...” She stopped short. “I should have ordered everyone to be here today.”

“Don’t worry. Those old-timers may not learn anything, but they will talk,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You know how it is in the barracks. Gossip travels fast.”

Yeah, I did not doubt that everyone in the barracks would know about me and my level up tonight. The same was the case when Denholm, the Beast of the South, tried to kidnap me. The very next day, everyone was talking about me. 

Esu and my connection to him have been a secret so far. But all it took was one to talk, and I’ll be the center of gossip again.

...

“That’s all well and good, but I have no idea where to start,” Harper objected as I finished my theory behind my level gain. “The way you put it, it sounds like being a slave is a win.”

A growl ripped from my throat. “Don’t think that for a second! I would give anything to be a baker or rather a florist.”

“You, a florist?” Freyde paused. “Kinda hard to picture you as one.”

Was it? My ears drooped as I didn’t try to hide my disappointment at hearing that.

“Is that what you were before you became a slave?” Meneur asked, to which I nodded, not elaborating further. They understood it was a topic I didn’t want to discuss. 

“So, back to me,” Harper said, pointing at herself. “Any ideas?”

It was hard to make sense of her. Was she trying to change the subject, or was she that self-centered? Her tone suggested the latter, her timing that she cared. Anyway, it was hard to come up with an answer on the spot. 

“I...” The ‘I don’t know’ was on the tip of my tongue just as the thought crossed my mind. “You made the bomb?”

“Yeah?” the baker raised a burned eyebrow. She looked really weird doing that. 

“What’s your problem, pointy ears?” She spat at Freyde when he couldn’t take it and burst out laughing. Even I had trouble keeping my chuckle in check.

“Whatever!” she grunted when he was unable to answer, her focus shifting back to me. “I made it, and a few more. So what’s your point? I've never leveled up after making one.” 

“Does it require the same procedures as baking?” I asked, realizing it needed clarification. “Mixing ingredients, kneading...baking?”

“Sort of,” Harper hesitated, thinking about it. “So you think...”

I shrugged. “Try using higher quality ingredients and different bomb recipes. I don’t know. It’s not my class or profession, but I’d give it a shot.” Looking back at Rayden, I wondered if I said too much. She wanted them to figure out a way to level on their own. She surprised me by gesturing for me to continue.

“Quite an expensive shot, you’re suggesting,” Harper scowled. 

Cocking my ears, I had to ask, “Why?”

She let out a sigh. “Experimenting with new recipes is not cheap. Before you find the right one, you have to go through dozens that taste like week-old bread or are too tough to chew at all. Wasted coins.”

Yeah, money. A problem I had, too. A quick glance in my spatial ring told me I had only a little more than twelve silvers. “Can’t help you with that.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” she snapped back, offended I assumed she needed some help.

“Sorry, I didn’t...” I said, only to stop short. Apologizing for every little thing, even for what wasn’t my fault, just to escape punishment when he was angry, was a habit Dungreen built in me. I hated doing that back then, and I hated doing it now. It made me feel inferior.

My fault for doing so, though.

“Jeez! You’re a bigger pussy than I thought,” Frowning, the baker motioned to Freyde. “Ask him if he needs help.”

“Oh. No need, ladies,” he said with a smug smile and arms crossed over his chest. “Listening to you Korra, I think I’m on the right track.”

“You’re counting my movements somehow, aren’t you?” I asked, curious if I was right.

He gave me a grin, pointing at me. “Smart one. Your steps, your breaths, the depth of them before you attack. As in the account books in which the owners try to hide the traces of fraud, there’s a pattern in your movements, even if you don’t think so yourself.”

As frustrating as it was to admit that my efforts to avoid repeating my attacks were in vain, it had to be so. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to tell where I’m going to strike from and keep up with me.

Avoid it, break the pattern? Perhaps doable, but I wasn’t at a level where I could control my breathing during an attack.

“Impressive, gave me quite a headache,” I said frankly.

“To you?” He laughed in bemusement. “Harper I can count, and when she’s pissed off, which seems to be all the time, finding patterns is even easier.”

“Fuck you, pointy ears!” the baker cursed at him.

He smiled. “See, I knew she’d react this way.”

“That wasn’t hard to tell.” No one likes to have his shortcomings pointed out.

Freyde bobbed his head. “Well, true.”

“Know what? Fuck you both!” Harper’s swearing made us both laugh.

“You were saying?” Meneur asked, surprisingly curious about what would-be-elf had to say.

Freyde looked at him. “You, your patterns make sense, unlike your Korra. You’re confusing.”

Yeah, my scattered brain, along with my body language, made it difficult for him to read my intentions. He already told me that.

“Perhaps that’s what you need?” I suggested off the top of my head. “Something to challenge yourself.”

He took a breath to answer, only to stop and think. “That makes sense. It wasn’t hard to find patterns in the movements of my instructors. Ah, so that’s why I never gained a level during training.” He seemed to have had an epiphany. Right after that came the sad realization. “So much wasted time and coins.”

Well, I wouldn’t say wasted. He learned how to handle a sword. All I knew about the weapons was which end to point it at my opponent.

Then a grin crossed this not-quite-elf’s face. “How’s your back? Another round, how does that sound?”

His eagerness for another fight caught me off guard. 

“If so, I won’t stay out any longer,” warned Meneur, saying that he too will join the action.

A loud scowl came from Harper. “You can count me in too.”

“Seriously? I thought you were...out,” I said awkwardly.

“Out?” the baker winced. “Are you shitting me? If the few burns we got are what you mean, you don’t have to worry. We’re fine. You’re the one who lost a kidney.”

Oh, yeah, that. It reminded me of the question I had for the taurus mage. “What kind of magic was that, anyway? Fire, if not lightning?” Was I expecting an answer? Not really. At least not now before the fight. On the other hand, knowing what magic he was using didn’t make much difference, and he came to the same conclusion.

“It’s ember magic,” shared Meneur. “More built around heat than flames.”

Glad he told me, I nodded. “It burned deep.” To emphasize my words, I rubbed my aching back. His soft snort told me he took it as it was meant, as a compliment, not an accusation.

“So?” Freyde asked, wondering if I was willing to fight them again.

And I was, just... “Can you give me, I don’t know, five minutes?” I asked, motioning to my back. A non-functioning kidney wasn’t much of an issue in the fight, but burned muscles were. Not that five minutes was long enough for them to heal completely. I wanted to use the time to figure out my mane.

Avoiding the bookkeeper’s sword was manageable for me, deflecting the baker’s bolts somewhat as well, but the mage’s magic was fast and burned hot. There was no guarantee that my shield wouldn’t melt away when hit. Hence my mane. Was it just a fluke, or could I control it somehow? 

If so, I had to figure out how, fast.