Chapter 292: Interlude's First (I)

Returning to Camp Null, Rory expected to be the one in the worst shape. As the two teleporters returned, what Rory didn’t expect was to find himself staring in amusement as Zoey frowned at him.

“Alright, asshole, say it,” Zoey sighed, covered in grey slime.

“What ate you this time?” Rory finally asked, a wide grin splitting across his face.

“Fuck you. It won’t God damn scrub off! I swear, how does this keep happening to me specifically?” Zoey sighed before turning around. “Alice, you bitch, this is your fault.”

“I wasn’t the one who got swallowed now, was I?” The Spear said, the most mirth on her face that Rory had ever seen, momentarily stunning him.

Pretty. Really pretty. Wait, focus.

“No, but I was the one who pushed you out of the way, so you didn’t get eaten!”

“I would have been fine.”

“Uh-huh, I came out with most of my flesh dissolved, but you think you’d have been better off.”

“I would have,” Allison said, smirking down at her sister.

“Alright, you’re doing it on purpose,” Zoey grumbled. “Fucken’ Gloomsilt Tortoise.”

“Productive time, I take it?” Rory asked the pair.

“You could say that. We cleared out an underground lake that was home to said Gloomsilt Tortoise, a territory alpha. While it was only the single territory alpha, the lake was overflowing with his children, a flock of flesh-eating alpha variants.”

“At least they weren’t snakes,” Eric chimed in.

“Might have been easier to punch through the scales of a snake than the shell of a tortoise,” Zoey grumbled.

“Unfortunately for them, they were a flock of durability-based monsters, and outside of the potent acids inside the Gloomsilt Tortoise’s stomach, that was one of the worst matchups against me,” Allison explained.

“Yep, I just had to buy her time by getting eaten so there wasn’t enough room in its stomach to eat her dumb ass,” Zoey sighed.

“What about you two?” Allison asked, looking at Rory before turning to face Eric.

“Ants. A whole lot of fuckin ants,” Eric said. “Then some ants that were wasps.”

“How does that work?” Zoey asked.

“Damn if I know; I was wondering the same thing.” Eric shrugged. “We cleared out ninety-nine percent of the hive, but triple territory alphas were a bit much for just two of us.”

“Three?” Allison asked, surprised.

“Technicality,” Rory corrected. “One of them was a queen-class monster; it was just a meat punching bag.”

“Yeah, but the ant king definitely wasn’t,” Eric added. “Basically splattered this fuck on a wall, puked up so much blood you’d have thought his insides were liquified.”

“You aren’t far off,” Rory muttered. “We beat the ant queen and ant king, but there was a second, even stronger ant king that we had to retreat from.”

“Three territory alphas, for a side-location to have so many, that suggests it has quite the strategic value,” Allison said, her mind turning the information over.

“Aside from being a goldmine of rare-grade metal?” Eric said with a wide grin. “I’m pretty sure there is something else good there as well, but I wasn’t able to track down that ‘something else’ without a more thorough investigation.”

“Rare grade metal?” Allison took a step back as if physically pushed. “Have any of you seen that before?”

“Naturally occurring? No,” Rory shook his head. “Artificial or alloyed? Plenty.”

“Yes, I was being rhetorical… never mind,” Allison shook her head a moment later. “Do you two need help defeating this second ant king?”

“Yes, but I was thinking somebody else,” Rory said truthfully as he looked around. “Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Tom? He was visiting the shop and said he would be back shortly.”

“And back I am,” A new voice added as the fifth and final Founder appeared.

Rory frowned, not fond of how sometimes his perception of the man seemed to skip over him, his aura of stillness so still it was like he wasn’t even there.

The redhead was holding what looked like a blue rock, tossing it back and forth.

“What’s that?” Eric asked, cutting to the chase.

“Frozen Schist,” Tom answered.

“You bought frozen shit?” Eric frowned at his longtime friend.

“No, you… no . Frozen schist .”

“It’s a type of rock,” Rory answered, coming to the rescue.

“I mean, I remember when I ate enough cheese back on Earth, pretty sure you could qualify those shits as rocks,” Eric said with a grin.

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“You didn’t have many long-term relationships, did you?” Zoey asked.

“How did you know?”

“Not the point,” Tom cut in before everyone ended up distracted. “It was the name that had me thinking since I checked out the store initially. ‘Frozen’ matters to me. Which got me thinking,” The Monk turned to Rory, a questioning look on his face. “You think you can work with this?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘work with,’ but otherwise, yeah, I don’t see why not,” Rory said.

“Perfect. In the past, we, referring to Eric and me, have found plenty of resources with ‘cold’ or ‘ice’ or ‘snow’ as part of their identity, but ‘Frozen’ is shockingly rare. I was reminded, after the incident with the serpents, how taxing it can be to force my frozen concept on a stronger foe.”

“You want some sort of amplifier or the like?” Rory asked, believing he understood what the man meant.

“If such a thing is possible?”

“It is,” Rory said with a shrug. “Achievable in varying fashions. In this case, I think a pendant would be best; the conceptuality of an amplifier for your aura would be better served by physical contact with your core, or, in more obvious terms, your heart. Hence, a pendant.”

Unlike the Rong family, which had developed dantians as a part of their abilities, Tom had gone the route of carving spirtways through himself, meaning the closest thing to his ‘core’ was his physical heart. Rory would have suggested something more along the lines of a bellybutton-spanning belt had that not been the case, something he knew several Rong family members used to directly ‘touch’ their dantians for whatever myriad of reasons.

“Well, I would appreciate it. Now, you were looking for me originally?”

“Yeah, going to need your help with a certain territory alpha. Having gotten a glimpse of some of what these guys can do, its second ‘phase’ is insanely fast.”

“And so you need me to slow it down once that time comes,” Tom said.

“Bingo. You in?”

“I have no reason to say no,” Tom answered with a shrug. “When do we go?”

“Tomorrow,” Rory said, tapping his stomach. “Because I’ve got a bad case of ‘liquid-organs-itis' to sleep off.”

The great thing about being tier eight was that as long as the healing process was supported by the likes of ossified blood essence gems and healing brews, one could go from having a good chunk of their internals liquefied the day before to feeling brand new the next day. Waking up and stretching his arms overhead, Rory left his small cabin, nodding as he found The Monk sitting around the fire.

“Morning,” Rory said before taking a seat. “How long have you been awake?”

“Two hours,” The Monk answered. “I’ve specifically gained and developed a skill that causes me to gain the benefits of sleep without needing to sleep properly, and in a fraction of the time, even ignoring our normal lack of sleep needed.”

“So why do you even bother sleeping?” Rory asked.

“The same reason you’d opt for a donut instead of a healthier option: because it’s enjoyable.”

“Fair enough,” Rory said, surrendering the point. As tier eights, sleep was already highly optional for them. Still, it was also quite beneficial when recovering from hard-fought battles. “Eric still out cold?”

“Correct,” Tom nodded. “You two seem on better terms.”

“Quality bonding time,” Rory snorted.

“I’m assuming not the same sort of bonding time you’d like to share with Allison?”

Had Rory been drinking anything, he would have spat it out in surprise as he stared daggers at the man.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a Monk?”

“A Monk is not blind.” Tom shrugged before smiling shallowly. “Besides, I consider my time away from my sect as personal vacation time; I’m off the clock on my Monk-ly duties.”

“Monk-ly duties? Sounds like some shit that would have a pension associated.”

“Can’t say I know much about pensions; I was only a teenager when pensions ceased to exist,” Tom bantered back.

“You know, some would say you’re more of a Monk larper than an actual monk when you think about it.”

“To which I would say that, given the lack of other monks, the definition of a monk is what I decide.”

“Fair enough,” Rory sighed, admitting defeat. While they were hardly as close as he and Zoey, Rory at least felt more comfortable bantering with the Monk than all save for a select handful of people.

“So, are you planning to pursue her?” Tom asked, for the second time, eliciting a gasped choke from Rory.

“Are you kidding?” Rory asked.

“Not particularly, no. I’ve seen that look on your face before from young trainees who have yet to master their own emotions.”

“Are you saying I’m worse at it than a bunch of kids?”

“Have you had to practice very much?”

“…. fair,” Rory admitted.

“You two speak as if I would have been interested anyway,” A third voice said with a yawn as a newcomer emerged from her cabin.

“Oh, good morning, Allison,” Tom said cheerily, unfazed even as Rory felt like sinking deep into the ground.

Oh Christ, I feel like an embarrassed teenager again.

“You,” Allison pointed an accusing finger at Tom. “Have let Eric rub off on you far too much over the years, an instigator even if you refuse to admit it.”

Tom, in his defense, merely raised his hands upward.

“And you ,” Allison pivoted to point a finger at Rory. “I don’t know what to make of you. I don’t like you. I don’t think I like you. But it’s a little disorienting when your original sworn rival stares at you with fuck-me-eyes.”

“I prefer puppy dog eyes,” Rory snorted before shaking his head. “And who said I give you fuck me eyes?”

“Well, anyone with eyes,” Tom coughed into his fist.

“She’s right, you are a low-key instigator,” Rory frowned at his sort-of-friend. “Fine, so sue me. Perhaps you’re my type.”

The two Founders glared at each other for several moments before another new voice interrupted.

“Christ and Christmas cakes, you two know you can just go fuck, right? This isn’t a Viagra ad; you don’t have to dance around the implication,” Eric said as he emerged from his cabin.

“Good morning, Eric,” Tom said cheerfully.

“Morning, Mr. Frozen Shits,” Eric said, smirking at both Rory and Allison.

“He did kill Garfunk,” Allison felt the need to remind them.

“Yeah, he did.” Eric shrugged. “A real prick move, I won’t deny that. But your sister vouches for him, and we all know Garfunk was going to get murder happy with his daughter.”

“A Sensen,” Allison again reminded.

“Weirder shit has happened,” Eric shrugged. “Life is cheap here, even cheaper than on Earth. Shit went south; we all acted up. Sure, he ain’t invited to my wedding any time soon. But outside of rightfully calling him a prick, I’m not going to get hung up on it at this point; we’ve all got way too fucking long lives ahead of ourselves for that to be holding grudges. Assuming we don’t get eaten by monsters. Or, in the Vanguard’s case, eaten and digested.”

“Are awkward morning conversations going to be a daily requirement?” Zoey yawned as she stepped out into the morning rays, as if sensing someone mentioning her, the last to emerge from her cabin. “Because I can share the story of how I learned I was asexual. It involves a pineapple, eight gallons of lube, a pool of custard, and a midget frat party.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Eric said, leaning in. “But call me intrigued either way.”

This is not happening.

It felt like a bad joke. What happens when Conan O’Brien -who decided to become a monk instead of a comedian, Jackie Chan if he were a kleptomaniac, a five-foot-nothing living Barbie doll, and Dora the Explorer meet Storm from X-Men, go camping on a world ripped out from some sci-fi movie?

Apparently, the punchline was him, used as the world’s most awkward sex joke.

“Can we focus?” Rory finally said, making it a point not tolook at the Spear. “Tom, you will join Eric and me to finish off clearing out the orckalite ant hive. Zoey, Allison… do whatever you want, I guess.”

“Wait!” Eric stood up, his face serious. Instantly, the group was on guard, waiting for the other shoe to drop, before the man looked about and sat back down, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just fucking with you all.”

Yeah, definitely some sort of stupid joke, that’s for sure.