Cain admired the sight of the city beginning to burst into life even as he kept his guard up. He activated [True Sight] intermittently to conserve his energy, but even brief glances of True Sight revealed an entirely new ecosystem beginning to form.
Insects of all kinds flitted about through the grass, and buds of strange flowers seemed to be ready to bloom. A rat the size of Wutang skittered into sight, noticed Cain, and quickly disappeared into one of the ruined houses.
A few birds chirped here and there, though none of them seemed to be birds of prey. They were large though, pigeons and sparrows that had ballooned to the size of the human torso. Some of them sported vibrant colors.
He could see things more clearly every day, and recently had begun being able to see what he assumed was manna. It swirled inside of every living thing, and he thought it did so with personality.
He could see strands of manna that moved about more aggressively as well as smaller cores of manna that were more calm within the animals. It looked like they were beginning to fuse, and the more energetic strands of manna seemed to be provoking the calmer cores of manna to grow and move about more energetically as well.
According to Wukong, the explosion of humans, decline in biodiversity and pollution had gradually been dwindling the source of Earth’s manna. In some ways, humanity had brought on the apocalypse unto itself.
Cain enjoyed being in nature in solitude, and even though he had enjoyed the company of people after nearly a month of scrapping by alone, it felt good to be… alone again.
Almost alone. Wutang was grooming his head, rooting around and occasionally miming eating something. Cain hoped it was symbolic.
---
The next day, Cain breathed in the fresh morning air as he did his dawn stretches.
It was a mixture of things that he’d picked up over the years training in different sports. He’d found that it helped him assess his Body, Mind, and Soul, and that the routine even seemed to improve them minutely every day.
He’d tried to teach the young hunters back in the camp, but with no background in martial arts, they were improving very slowly. And Noel had not had the patience to sit still for very long.
Cain was also getting better at meditating, reaching deeper and deeper into his inner self as he observed the ebb and flow of his thoughts and emotions. He felt like he was beginning to understand what his father had been talking about when he droned on about the benefits of meditating.
After he had shaken the sleep out of his body, he took out his breakfast and chewed on the smoked fish he’d taken out from his pack, watching Wutang eat some sort of large insect that he’d apparently hunted and killed. Even alone, Wutang would probably do just fine in this changing land-scape, even by himself. He was a true-clone of the Monkey King, after all.
Cain chewed the dry meat as he considered the events of yesterday and his goals for this outing.
One, he was going to try and capture a goblin and bring it back alive to the camp.
Joe would hopefully be able to gain more information about the denizens of Heloth. Specifically, he wanted to know more about this High Mother of the goblins.
Two, he would scout the area for other survivors to see if they wanted to join Cain's friends at the camp.
He didn’t know what a Village Designation or a Soul Tower was, but 15 Soul Crystals for each person upon having 50 people in the camp would be an enormous boost in their ability to defend themselves and build a booming outpost of a town.
Three, hHe would map the territory for any other groups of goblins or monsters nearby.
Since a large group of humans had formed a camp, it would be easier to defend from smaller threats but harder to abandon or move if a larger group of monsters found out about the camp and decided to attack.
Cain had made a lot of headway in two of these goals.
He had mapped nearly a 5 mile radius yesterday, writing on beast-hides that the goblin had kept and using the soot from Ralph’s failed experiments as ink. It seemed all of the goblin stragglers had fled the area after Noel and Cain had essentially destroyed their tribe.
Cain had actually run into survivors as well, beginning to come out of their hiding places now that the goblins were gone.
It seemed that Chosen weren’t that common, as none of them had any idea about what the title meant when he’d asked them. Cain had pointed them in the direction of the camp and offered them shelter and a larger group of humans to band with. Ralph and Noel would set them straight if they caused any trouble, but mostly Cain thought they would be glad to be around other humans for a change.
One of the survivors had mentioned that the rift that had spewed out goblins had appeared near downtown, so that’d be the way he headed today.
Despite it all, he felt rather hopeful. In a way, he was really grateful to the System for not only the chance to grow stronger in every way imaginable, but also having trusted him with the Quest to rescue fellow humans.
----
Cain had been walking for about an hour through the ruined streets.
A cough caught his attention, and Wutang raised his hackles in a hiss.
It was a grey orc surrounded by the corpses of a dozen goblins.
Its eyes met Cain’s, which lit up with a yellow light as he dropped into a combat stance and brought up his dagger.
But then he saw why he hadn’t even detected any strong manna fluctuations in his routine checks with True Sight.
The orc sat with its back leaning against the fallen wall of a house, blood pooling slowly on the ground from the numerous wounds on its body. The orc's manna was weak and seemed to be on the verge of flickering out.
It had been a very hard, confounding week for Harundal.
Harundal had crossed over to Earth around two months ago, with the Tribe of the Grey Roc. When he had, he had been one of two Duruks to receive a Blessing.
The great god Morrow had blessed him with the very same blessing he had given to the first Duruk, who had freed them from slavery by the djinn-born all those centuries ago, and the namesake of their entire race. Things had changed for Duruks since then, however, and honor was now a thing that was for the foolish.
Morrow’s blessing strengthened the blessed Duruk for every foe he fought and defeated in one on one combat, or honorably. The same blessing that had propelled Duruk the First to the heights of the strongest of djinn-born had been a disastrous one for Harundal.
His long time rival, Jak’tur had instead received the blessing of Dokuroth instead, gifted with the ability to control flames. Wary of a slow death, Harundal had challenged Jak’tur for leadership of the war-band, and lost. And then Jak’tur had spared his life, further bringing him shame.
He had had no choice but to enter a self-induced exile.
He had been wandering aimlessly in the strange city when he had been caught off guard and waylaid by a war-band of Turuks. If there had been five-, even three, of his fellow warriors with him, there would have been no fight. It would have been a massacre.
Alone, the Turuks were weak. Even in groups of three, or five, any Duruk worth his tusks could hold his own against the blood-mongering savages. An exiled Duruk usually did not worry about Turuks because they rarely moved about in numbers larger than scouting parties unless provoked. The war-band must have been going somewhere on the orders of their shaman, possibly to raid another Turuk tribe.
Either way, it had been a good battle, and he had been seeking release from a long life of shame, when a human with curious eyes had come upon him. Harundal had thought that the human would have slit his throat. Instead, he had spent a couple days treating his wounds, giving him some food, and then eventually bringing him to his own tribe. Harundal had resigned himself to his fate. He was an exile, and nothing could bring him down further into the pits of shame.
Other humans of this ‘Village’, they called it, were equally strange as the one who had found him.
One large, tattooed human had the body of a full-grown Duruk, but the personality of a rabbit.
Another human, a female with an axe, was about a third of his size and yet would fit in perfectly in any tribe of Duruks.
... And one white furry creature who somehow seemed to consider him a rival. Whenever the first human walked in the tent they had put Harundal in with some food, the creature seemed to jump around and make a fuss. An amusing creature.
There was another human who could speak the common tongue of Heloth, albeit at the level of a child. He had learned many things from the human called Joe.
How the first human, ‘Cain’, had rescued them all from a small tribe of Turuks, led by a fledgling ‘Hob’. A High Turuk.
How ‘Noel’ had fought and killed close to a dozen Turuks herself.
And ‘Ralph’ had gone for days without food and weathered beatings wordlessly while embracing his cub.
Harundal had thought the humans were prey. Weak, and worthy of no respect, no proper duel.
Watching the village and the humans bustle about, he realized that it might not have been that simple.
A desire began to take growth in his heart, watching these humans.
So it was that Harundal decided to challenge Cain to a testing of tusks, one that would decide whether this Cain was a worthy leader of a tribe. Worthy of being a Warbringer to whom he could swear his life. Perhaps he’d find a new place within a new tribe. Or perhaps they’d string him for the birds to feed on. Either way, Harundal felt he had nothing to lose.
---------
Cain stared warily at Harundal. He called himself a Duruk, Joe had told him. And goblins were apparently Turuks. It was hard to think of the monsters as anything other than goblins and orcs.
It may have been upon a whim that he’d saved Harundal. Or perhaps he’d felt pity for the dying orc. But mostly, he had felt a strange pull towards the orc, like a whispering of fate. Every day, [True Sight] seemed to grow stronger and let him see strange, new things, and on that day he had seen that Harundal had no desire to fight.
The rest of the villagers had gradually grown used to the orc as well, despite the initial fuss. They trusted Cain, their strange benefactor who was often quiet, but gently led their hunters and thoughtfully consulted Ralph.
Harudal stood, towering over Cain and Joe. He was bigger by a head than even Ralph, who was the largest man Cain had ever seen in real life.
“He says… he wants… a duel.” Joe trailed off, looking more nervous than ever.
Harundal uttered a stream of grunts and what sounded like snorts.
“You saved his life, and he thanks you. But for Duruks, debts are not acknowledged as owed to the weak. Apparently, only through duels can debts, alliances, and fealties be pledged.”
Cain eyed Harudal, who was staring back at him intently, and his eyes flashed gold.
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