Chapter 224: Polluted Airwaves

  Zach bent over and panted, his mouth opening wide as he took increasingly larger breaths. “That exhausted me way more than it should have,” he said, sweat pooling on both sides of his face. “I guess that’s just what happens when you don’t sleep properly.”

  Although he’d won the battle, it hadn’t been without cost, but it had been to very little gain. The experience points, heavily diminished as they were, could not justify the expenditure in both effort and time, and it certainly couldn’t justify the two Legion Portal Guardian cards that had unexpectedly died during the fight. The rest of his cards were also low on HP, but Zach felt way too exhausted to heal them at the moment with Card Dismiss.

  No loot dropped, either, he thought sourly.

  Zach hadn’t been expecting such a tough fight, especially after killing the two healers right off the bat, reducing the number of enemies from seven to five against their eight—or nine if you counted Zach. That should have made for an easy cleanup and a nice, swift victory.

  But it hadn’t.

  Of his seven cards, six of which he could control, he’d sent four after the pair of rapier-wielding Vixen Portal Commanders along with his war-mount, as those level-65 elites were fairly stronger than the level-60 Legion Portal Guardians. This had left three hostile Legion Portal Guardians to deal with, but with four of his cards committed to the rapier-wielding vixens, this only left two of his Orcs to spare, along with his own Vixen Portal Commander that his out-of-control mind had hijacked from him. Thankfully, she was cooperating with him even if for reasons unknown.

  At the time, Zach’s thinking had been simple: attack and overpower one of the Orcs with the Vixen Portal Commander while his remaining two cards held off the other two Orcs. And in all fairness, he still believed it to have been a fundamentally solid plan. But the thing about pitting the Orcs against one another in one-versus-one fights was that, given they were the exact same mob at the exact same level, it became an inherently fifty-fifty outcome. Yet Zach hadn’t minded that, as he’d assumed that he and his hijacked card could easily deal with the Orc they were fighting fast enough to intervene if either of the two cards seemed like they might lose.

  Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to take into account the moderate damage they’d received during the previous fight on the second floor.

  Thus, right in the middle of the battle, one of his cards had died totally unexpectedly. And this, consequently, freed up the enemy it was fighting to double-team the card nearest to it—killing that one in turn and hacking it to pieces.

  With everything else still tied up, Zach and his Vixen Portal Commander had needed to rush in and burn down the two wounded but still viable enemy Orcs before they aggroed onto the other cards and tipped the scales out of Zach's favor, as there had been a very real risk of starting a “chain reaction” of sorts.

  Thankfully, they’d gotten the job done.

  Now, getting his breathing under control, he lifted his head and looked at the beautiful, red-haired Vixen Portal Commander across from him: the card that had seemingly been taken over by his subconscious delusions. Right now, its eyes were menacingly wide and practically bulging with excitement in a way that actually came across as lustful.

  “That was good, good, good! More! I want more!” She set her gaze upon Zach. “Keep going. That was fun!”

  The card said the word “fun” as though it were speaking of some kind of rare, perhaps even foreign concept—as though it had found something typically unobtainable. Zach supposed he could “sort of” see why his subconscious mind might feel that way given his own circumstances, but even still, the manner in which it presented itself did not feel true to him at all. And if this card’s behavior represented some kind of inner version of himself, then it was a version he found truly surprising, as he did not recognize it as being something from within.

  Still breathing a bit heavily, Zach looked at the wall, where a piece of flat stone was sliding aside and giving way to another staircase, this one presumably leading up to the fourth floor. As this was happening, his card was pointing to it. “Let’s go up and see what waits for us next,” she said. “Let’s go now!”

  Zach, finally getting his breathing under control, straightened his back and lifted his index finger, calling for a pause. “Hold your horses.”

  Upon those words, his card spun around and glared at him, eyelids twitching. “Why?”

  “Because we need to rest,” Zach explained. “If I’m tired, it must mean you’re tired, and right now, I can barely stand on my feet.”

  “You’re wrong,” she said. “I’m not tired.”

  “You obviously are. You must be. Because you’re me, after all. Right? Even though I can’t control you or understand why this is happening, there’s no way I can be tired and not you.”

  Rather than offer any deep reply to his reasoning, she simply stated, “No, I’m not tired. Let’s do more.”

  Zach shook his head. “No.”

  The red-haired Vixen Portal Commander’s lips joined its eyelids in twitching, and then, with a sudden, unexpected scream, she furiously punched the stone wall, her fist sinking through it with a dull crunching sound. “More!” she screamed. “Now! Or I’ll make you see horrible, horrible things. Things that will make you suffer.”

  Taken aback, Zach wasn’t sure how to reply.

  Why am I punishing myself this way? he wondered. It’s so hard to understand why I’m doing this to myself. I wish Jascaila was here.

  “Look,” Zach said to the card. “I don’t know why my mind has split this way, and I don’t know why I’m doing this. But the fact of the matter is that I’m only so exhausted today because of you—and by that, I guess I mean we—haunted ourselves yesterday and all night. If we do that again, we’ll just get more tired, and then we’ll never progress. You might as well let me sleep.”

  The anger in his card’s expression at such a logical, sensible request caused Zach to wonder for just a brief instant if maybe, maybe he wasn’t crazy and this really was something he was observing in reality, because the sheer craze in which his card entered into did not come from any place he recognized as his own.

  With a loud scream, she began banging her head again and again into the stone wall, leaving forehead-shaped cracks that deepened with each successive impact while screaming out incoherent nonsense that meant nothing to Zach.

  “Making. Me. Wait!” the card screamed, banging its head with each word. “Thousands of years, waiting, waiting, alone. No one to talk. Now more. More? More! More?” it screamed, loudly enough to make Zach take a step back from the sheer depth of rage within it. Turning back towards him, the card growled and stomped its feet.

  “Fine. Fine, sleep. Rest. Tomorrow morning, I want to play all day. No breaks. I won’t haunt you until then. Rest now! I will torture the Gods until then.”

  Zach, utterly flabbergasted, opened his mouth to reply, but then he stopped himself as he noticed a shift taking place—one that happened instantly. His mob’s eyes changed in an instant, its expression becoming vacant, lifeless, and empty: the way it was supposed to be.

  Whatever fucked-up mental-health episode he was having, it appeared to have terminated. Zach was back here now by himself, his wayward mind constrained within his own skull. Yet a thought began popping up in his head, one he could not ignore.

  What if it really isn’t me? he wondered. As impossible and unlikely as it seems, what if it really, truly isn’t me?

  That had to be absurd, no? He’d seen the walls bleed. He’d heard voices shouting out things from his past. He’d had conversations with his non-sentient card. How could that be real? What existed in this world that could actually do that? Nothing so far as he could imagine.

  Eilea, maybe, he realized. But she wouldn’t dare. Olandrin and Adamus wouldn’t, either. So I must be going mad.

  But what if…

  He sighed. The time he spent thinking was time he should be resting. The card—or his mind—had threatened to return tomorrow morning. And though it was early in the day, his body was badly sleep-deprived and tired. What he needed was some proper rest. He was now far too exhausted to be afraid. He’d just have to hope that his card, or his subconscious mind, or a ghost, or whatever-the-fuck-it-was kept its word and gave him peace until tomorrow.

  Grabbing his three rejuvenation stones off the floor, he turned around and began making his way back into the very narrow hallway that cut across the center of the tower like a tunnel and led to the stairwell leading down to the second floor. Yet he paused once he reached the middle of the passageway, where there was an open ceiling that revealed the glass dome far above.

  I can’t go back the way I came, he realized. The mobs on the second floor will have respawned, so the stairwell entrance will be blocked again.

  Zach looked up. As far as exits were concerned, that would have to do and would probably be much faster and easier than fighting through the second floor, anyhow. And so, climbing out of this tunnel-like passage, he sat on the rounded, ledge-like portion and then slid himself off the side, free-falling down from the third floor all the way to the first. Luckily, he landed on the side of the partition in the central atrium that was closer to the tower’s entrance, which meant he wouldn’t need to waste his time fighting the Legion Portal Guardian on the first floor.

  Landing on both feet, he heard several taps as his four Orcish Elites, his rapier-wielding Vixen Portal Guardian, and his war-mount all followed behind him. And with that, he strolled his way out of the tower and into a foggy, uncomfortably misty, and gloomy day of the sort that Plains of Mist was known for during the winter.

  Hurrying down the twenty steps and over to his campsite, he turned around and regarded the Orcish Elites following behind him. They were all beaten up and in need of healing, but he was he much too exhausted to use Card Dismiss on them right now, and so he merely put them on passive and had them remain stationary. As for his Vixen Portal Commander, her condition looked pristine, so he activated Card Dismiss and returned her to card form, mostly for his own psychological comfort, as he now associated her with…with whatever the hell was going on with him.

  Please, he begged himself. If this is coming from within, just let me rest.

  With that, he got into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. Even with his hand still clutching his rejuvenation stones, his swords still attached to his body, and his red-and-black, mob-dropped boots on his feet, he was out in seconds.

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  His last thought before drifting off was an ardent hope that, come tomorrow, these weird events would not return, and that whatever storm was going off in his brain would pass.

  ******

  Anelia didn’t have much to say, but she wanted to please Denisoa, so she tried her best to make polite conversation as the festive, merry atmosphere ramped up and orchestral music began playing here in the newly rebuilt town square in Den of Ziragoth.

  “Thank you for all the hard work you’ve put in, Miss Hellcrest,” an older farmer said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the music while patting her on the shoulder. Anelia recognized him, though she couldn’t recall his name. She’d helped lift a lot of the rubble out of his home a few months ago in order to speed things up with his rebuild. In fact, much of her time this past year had gone towards clearing out pathways for the heavy machinery to proceed in order to save them time.

  “It’s not a problem at all,” she replied, shaking his hand. “I love this town, and I’m just glad to be of service.”

  The place was overwhelmingly crowded this evening, as in addition to all the residents who lived here in Den of Ziragoth, many of the contractors, construction workers, electricians, and donors from the primary city in Whispery Woods had joined together here as well to celebrate their shared accomplishments.

  The town square wasn’t quite “finished” just yet, however. Although it had been rebuilt and repaved, the multiple shops and eateries that used to be found here were next up on the agenda. This was because the queen’s first priority had been to ensure everyone had a home to live in, and during this time, she had instructed the people not to worry about their jobs or their livelihoods, assuring everyone that the Elvish would provide for them until the town was completely revitalized. And she’d made good on her word, too, which all on its own, put the Elves in a category separate from humanity, which rarely delivered on its promises; although to be fair, what she’d done here with Den of Ziragoth was unique in a way that even turned heads around the world, something Anelia only knew from all the extra time she’d had lately to lie in bed with Denisoa and watch the media.

  It's really something special, she thought.

  The very idea of it—the idea of taking care of the financial, medical, and food needs for an entire town for an entire year…it was unheard of. Previously, this kind of generous social program existed only in the imaginations of Orcish academics and scholars, who wrote fancy papers about it that most treated as nothing more than wishful thinking. And yet, the queen had actually done it. What’s more, she often claimed that this type of governing used to be “standard” many, many thousands of years ago when the Elvish empire ruled the entire planet of Galterra.

  Looking around, Anelia could easily imagine the town square roaring back into business within the next few months. What had once seemed far-fetched was no longer something she—or likely anyone—still called into question. Queen Vayra was a woman of her word, and so too was her daughter. The town square would absolutely be rebuilt. For now, though, the extra space was a good thing, as it was the only way to fit everyone in here together while still leaving room for dancing. There were many tables for eating, too, as well as free food and drinks to be found aplenty.

  “Hey,” Kalana said, hurrying over to where Anelia stood with Denisoa, Adim, and Peter Brayspark. The two boys were still riding on top of Ruby and had been doing so pretty much since this morning. Up above, the blue skies were turning orange as the sun began to set. At this time of year, the daylight hours were fleeting; in the summer, there’d still be five more solid hours of sunshine before the inevitable coming of night.

  With a smile on her face, Denisoa embraced the Elvish princess, who afterwards leaned forward and pinched Adim’s cheeks. By now, the boy had gotten used to “knowing a celebrity” and acted like Kalana was a big sister. Most of the kids in this town did, actually, as she’d come through here enough at this point that her presence no longer aroused the kind of awe that it had early on.

  “Hiya, cutie,” she said to Adim.

  “Hi, Princess Kalana,” he said. “My mom said there’s gonna be cookies and ice cream.”

  “For dessert, sweetie. Later.”

  Meeting Kalana’s eyes, Anelia made as if to bow to the young princess, but before she could, Kalana lunged forward and scooped her into a hug. “It’s good to see you again, Anelia.”

  Around the girl, Anelia’s heart always seemed to thaw a bit. It wasn’t a stretch to say that, if not for Kalana, she’d probably have ended up dying in Shadowfall Coast. She wouldn’t be here right now. That was for sure.

  “You too,” Anelia whispered in reply.

  “How’s everything going with you guys? I’m sorry I couldn’t come over for dinner last week like we planned. It’s ‘cause really bad stuff was happening in the city.”

  “Oh, I heard about that on the news,” Denisoa said, concern entering into her voice. “My prayers to the victims’ families.”

  Anelia nodded. It was a true tragedy what’d taken place there last week, and events like this were probably still going to pop up now and again for a good while to come. Basically, during the war last year, a bunch of ordinary, level-1 people had scavenged loot off the dead and wounded, and although about 70% of it was recovered, the remaining 30% was still out there, with some of it even being sold on the black market.

  What this translated into was dangerous Ones with inflated stats that were burglarizing homes, committing violent robberies, and causing all kinds of problems around North Bastia. All it took was a decent pair of gloves or a ring to turn the average level-1 civilian into a dangerous killing machine that ordinary peacekeepers struggled to suppress, and last week in particular had been brutal.

  Right around noon this past Monday, three level-ones equipped with stolen dragon loot from Shadowfall Coast had botched a bank robbery, resulting in the death of six civilians and eight peacekeeper officers despite the incredibly fast response from Elvish peacekeepers. All three had escaped, and Princess Kalana had hurried back to Whispery Woods to engage in a manhunt for the suspects.

  By Tuesday morning, all three had been dealt with. Kalana herself had apparently subdued one of the men, but another was in critical condition, and a third had succumbed to sword wounds. The two survivors were expected to face life imprisonment if convicted in the Elvish court system. Anywhere else in North Bastia, they would most likely face execution, but Princess Kalana had outlawed the death penalty.

  Should’ve put them down on the spot, Anelia thought. She knew better than to voice such an opinion, however.

  As Kalana, Denisoa, and the boys all chatted happily, Kalana lifted her finger as well as her eyebrows, and excitedly, she asked, “So, Adim. Are you excited to meet your new neighbors tomorrow?”

  Adim fervently shook his head. “No! They’re smelly, no-good blockheads! They don’t belong here!”

  “That’s right,” Peter said.

  Denisoa gasped in horror and surprise, and Kalana frowned. Anelia, however, reacted. Reaching out, she tugged on Adim’s ear. Not because she wanted to cause him pain, though, but because if she didn’t do it, his mother would’ve given him way, way worse. Nevertheless, the kid started crying right away. “Wahhh!” he shouted as though he’d been shot. “Mommy, Anelia hurted my ear!”

  “You’re lucky she didn’t rip it off! Who taught you to say that?”

  Peter was also crying because Kalana had gently bopped him over the head. “If Mom heard you say that, Peter, you’d be grounded for a year. That’s not okay!”

  Anelia was shocked herself. She’d never heard Adim or Peter speak that way about the Orcs before. But Denisoa was the most surprised of all—and she looked embarrassed, too. She immediately began demanding that Adim tell her where this horrible language was coming from while Kalana chided her royal, adopted brother.

  “Peter, you’re not getting any dessert after dinner!” Kalana snapped. “Not even if you cry. That’s not gonna work on me.”

  “B-b-b-but it was Adim who said it!”

  “Yah, and you agreed with him. Why would you say that? You know better than that!”

  Of all things, Anelia had thought the two boys would be excited to meet an Orc family of four that was moving in to teach at the town’s only school. Instead, they were spouting off like residents of Shadowfall Coast.

  “Tell us where you boys heard that kinda’ stuff,” Kalana demanded.

  “Do I get dessert back if I do?” Peter asked hopefully.

  “No! But if you don’t, you’re gonna be in so much more trouble.”

  He nodded, sniffling. “Me and Adim saw it on the internet.”

  “Show me.”

  I told Denisoa it was a bad idea to let a kid his age have a phone, Anelia thought, suppressing a groan.

  Handing the device over to Kalana, Anelia could visibly see the Elvish princess recoil in shock and disgust as two friendly-looking characters in a cartoon clearly made for children spoke of the Orcs in such horrific ways that it even bothered Anelia, who typically didn’t find herself susceptible to being offended.

  “Ooh, stinky!” one of the cartoon characters said, his voice coming through on the phone’s speakers. The character’s entire face turned green as though to suggest he was becoming nauseous. “Those no-good blockheads sure do stink, don’t they?”

  “They sure do!” another character agreed. The scene then panned over to show an Orc that had smoke coming off its body, with the smoke clearly intended to represent bodily odor.

  “Hurr hurr! Me never take bath or shower,” said the highly stereotyped Orc, who released loud, exaggerated flatulence while banging a club down on top of his own head, causing drool to come out of his mouth and stars to revolve around his scalp. “Me want live in human land and take human job!” The Orc released even more flatulence.

  Despite their faces being red from crying, both Peter and Adim smiled and began to laugh. This only caused Kalana’s expression to turn from a frown into a scowl. Her hand clenched as though to break the phone, but she stopped as if remembering it wasn’t her property. “Do it,” Anelia said to her. “Break Adim’s phone. Or I will.”

  Kalana nodded and smashed the device into pieces as Adim howled in agony. “No!” he cried out. “My phone! Princess Kalana broke my whole phone!” The tears resumed right away, but Anelia knew he’d get over it. Children cried over just about anything.

  “No more phones for you!” Denisoa roared at him. “Not when you’re watching that.”

  Kalana met Anelia’s eyes, and there was disbelief in the way she shook her head. “They’re putting this stuff in kids’ shows now?”

  Anelia shrugged. “The Guild of Gentlemen is desperate. They’re down to their last region, and the entire world hates them. This is probably how they’re keeping their remaining population in line.”

  Denisoa grabbed Kalana’s hands. “I am so, so ashamed,” she said. “Please, don’t think of my son as a—”

  “It’s not really his fault,” Kalana replied, cutting her off. “Adim is a sweet boy, and so is Peter. This is all ‘cause of the kinda’ garbage the Guild of Gentlemen is flooding the internet with. I’m gonna talk to the People of Virtue about blocking them off from North Bastia completely. And I know, umm, once my mom hears about this, she’ll make sure it’s blocked from Whispery Woods at the very least.”

  Ever since the war last year, the Guild of Gentlemen had changed its laws such that it now permitted hate speech against all but humanity. Incredibly, defeat had only radicalized them further. They were now worse than they had been before. And everyone knew it. At this point, it was probably best for someone to go in there and finish them off. But naturally, you couldn’t actually say that aloud, because calling for the extermination of the Guild of Gentlemen was also considered hate speech, especially here in Whispery Woods, where the Elves were cracking down on speech just a bit too forcefully.

  Not only was it illegal to call for the death of the Orcs, but it was illegal here to call for the death of the people who called for the death of the Orcs. That, on its own, was one thing, but even making mild jokes about the Orcs or about Humans was now forbidden in Whispery Woods. People could be arrested for saying anything that might “incite racial hatred.” Luckily, Anelia knew how and when to watch her mouth.

  “Adim, stop crying,” Denisoa said to him angrily. “And when the new neighbors come tomorrow, the Gods help me if you say anything to make them feel unwelcome or ostracized.”

  “I won’t, m-mommy,” he said, sniffling. “Why do they have an ostrich?”

  “No, I said ostracized. It’s when you treat somebody really badly just because they’re not the same as you.”

  Kalana ruffled the boy’s hair. “Orcs are really nice and smart,” she said. To Denisoa, she added, “And I don’t wanna make you think this is your fault at all, ‘cause it’s not.”

  The two little boys began to groan. Still seated atop the raptor, they began pestering Kalana to let them go off and play. “Fine,” Kalana said. “But Ruby, if they say any more, umm, mean things about the Orcs, you bring them right back to me, okay?”

  She chirped. “Yes, mommy Kalana!”

  And with that, she took off somewhere with the boys. Anelia reflexively craned her neck and watched them like a hawk until Denisoa grabbed her arm while the music just so happened to pick up a bit both in tempo and flavor. “Let’s dance, Anelia.”

  She grunted. “I don’t dance. You know that.”

  “Tonight you do!”

  The sun now having set, the town’s newly constructed light poles came on, illuminating the town square as the ceremonial party had only just started. Tugging on her arm, Denisoa led her away towards the dance floor that had sporadically formed near the live musicians while Kalana stormed off, probably to inform her mother about what she’d seen.

  “Denisoa, wait,” she said, halting in place.

  “What is it?”

  “There are too many people around. I can’t maintain a good visual on the targets from here.”

  “On the what?” Denisoa asked, barking out a laugh and then playfully touching Anelia’s nose with her pointer finger. “Did you just call them the ‘targets,’ Anelia?” Her laughter became uproarious.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Anelia replied, releasing a small chuckle of her own. “Bad habit. But you know what I meant to say.”

  “I do, you adorable thing you.” She smiled. “But this is Den of Ziragoth, not a warzone. The Elves protect us. You can go five minutes without having ‘the targets’ in sight.” She again laughed. “You need to learn to relax those bounty hunter instincts. They’ll be fine.”

  “I know, it’s just…” She sighed. “I just get uncomfortable when I can’t maintain a clear line of sight to Adim."

  “You’re more protective of him than I am. Come on. Dance with me, babe.”

  Denisoa was right. She was probably being too uptight, as she always tended to be. “Okay, just a few dances.”