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Chapter 138: The Night Flames Dance
🕑 Added 2023-03-21 17:38:01 +0000 UTCThe story got its first advanced review in a while on Royal Road! It feels nice to be compared to such big stories.
If you have a spare few seconds, consider taking a read and upvoting, please -- provided you agree with it. It helps a lot.
Enjoy the chapter!
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Jack followed Nauja back as the ceiling mushrooms dimmed. Their light lessened slowly at first, then faster, until night arrived in a matter of minutes. By the time they made it back to the tribe, darkness had fallen everywhere.
But not completely. Though the mushrooms had gone dark, their roots still pulsed with soft blue light. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the entire ring, not even close, but it still shed a hint of light on the jungle beneath, like a moonless night on Earth.
As soon as darkness fell, the sounds around Jack changed. The animals of day went to sleep, letting their nocturnal counterparts take over. Their cries were sparser now, chillier. If he was in the jungle—or in the insect forest—he would be terrified.
And yet, the valley of the Tri Lake felt safe. Peaceful, even. The leaves rustled in the night breeze, but their sound was calming music to his ears, not a sign of danger. Fireflies danced around the lip of the valley.
It was almost mystical.
Brock’s excited yells drew Jack’s attention back to the front. A large bonfire had been lit in the middle of the tribe, right next to the lake. Bare-chested men had dragged entire logs from the jungle and stacked them into a pyramid, then set the dry grass beneath it ablaze.
Now, the crimson fingers of a pyre reached for the stony sky. The tribespeople were gathered around it, forming a circle at a moderate distance, their pale faces shining red from the flames. They waved at Nauja as she approached.
“This is our night,” she whispered to Jack, pulling him forward. “We work hard during the day. At night, we dance, drink, celebrate, and sleep.”
“What do you celebrate?” he asked, breathless.
“Everything.”
His gaze opened up, taking in the new faces. Two dozen people sat around the fire, all staring at him. The previous crowd he met were amongst them.
Jack wanted to say something, but held himself back. Nauja hadn’t spoken yet. Nobody had, like they were all waiting for something.
The door of a hut creaked open. A man walked out, so tall that he needed to duck through the door. His chest was bare, and his head proud under a mane of red hair. His face was hard, with low cheekbones, and he wore only a skirt-like garment made of thin wood strips, like all other men of the tribe.
Human (Trial Planet), Level ??? (D-Grade)
Faction: -
Title: Direct Descendant
“Father,” Neuja said respectfully, inclining her head, and everyone else followed suit. They weren’t bowing, just expressing their respect.
“Hmm,” the man replied, caressing his long red beard. Jack felt deep exhaustion in that voice. He wasn’t old; he looked in his forties, but he exuded the air of a man who had experienced the vicissitudes of life.
Jack suddenly remembered that immortals lived for centuries. This man looked forty, but he could easily be seven hundred years old.
So much time in the same corner of the world… he thought, shaking his head. No wonder he looks so tired.
“Father, this is Jack and Brock,” Nauja introduced them again. “Friends who seek our hospitality.”
“Delvers,” her father replied, letting the word hang. A bit of tension seeped into the air. Jack had no doubt that, if this man gave the word, the tribesmen would chase them into the jungle instantly.
“Yes,” Nauja replied, “but they know respect. This man speaks from his heart, Father. I could sense the bitterness in his words, the fire in his chest. He faces the same threat we do. He may have come from above, but he is more barbarian than delver.”
Jack couldn’t resist throwing her a surprised glance. They barely even knew each other. Not even an hour ago, she was cursing at him, and now she was vouching for him. Just how confident was she in her evaluation?
“Mm.” The chief’s hum rang heavy in Jack’s ears, rocking his entire body, but he remained still. “My daughter praises you. Are her words true?”
“They are,” Jack replied as respectfully as he could, not sure how to address the man. Chief? Sir? “Nauja told me you have ways to detect lies. I am perfectly willing to accept such examination, if it helps alleviate your suspicions.”
A hint of amusement entered the chief’s eyes. “We have no such thing,” he said, “but neither do we need it. The heart cannot lie.”
Before Jack could respond, a heavy gaze bore deep inside him. He shook, almost stumbling. It felt like the chief was staring directly into his chest. He felt naked.
A moment later, the chief withdrew his skill—because it had to be one—and turned to Brock. “Can this young brorilla speak yet?” he asked.
“He—”
“Yes.” Brock cut off Jack.
“Good. Are you pure-hearted?”
“Yes.”
“Should we accept you among us?”
“Yes.”
“Do you possess any sort of ill will?”
“No.”
Brock had used two thirds of his vocabulary, but his answers seemed to satisfy the chief, for whatever reason. A tired smile crept on his face, one that he probably forced himself to wear. “In that case, welcome to the Tri Lake tribe. You can be our guests for tonight, but we expect you to depart tomorrow.”
Jack resisted the urge to raise his brows. He hadn’t realized the invitation would be so short-lived, but it didn’t really matter. It aligned with their purposes, anyway. They weren’t here for tourism. They had come to level, rise in power, and descend through the rings. This Barbarian Ring was only one stop on their way.
“Thank you,” Jack replied, inclining his head, and Brock did the same.
“Mm.” The chief hummed again. His smile turned a tad more genuine as he said, “Now, let’s drink.”
The tribespeople cheered. Someone brought over a sturdy barrel, pulled open its cork, and started filling stone goblets. The people sat around the fire, chatting the night away, as even the chief sat alone on a log and relaxed, letting his thick legs rest so close to the fire they were almost inside it.
“Here!” Nauja said, passing two goblets to Jack and Brock. They were filled with an amber liquid that smelled vaguely of milk.
“You lied to me,” Jack said with a smirk. “You have no lie detectors.”
“Telling you that was the lie detector.” She winked.
He laughed. “By the way, should Brock be drinking this?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“I don’t know. He’s a child brorilla. Where I come from, dogs don’t eat chocolate, so I don’t know what a brorilla eats.”
Brock gave him an insulted stare, while Nauja scowled. “Don’t be a wuss, Jack. Let the man drink.”
If they were the same species, Brock would have instantly fallen in love. As it was, he simply laughed, gave her a high-five—after Jack explained how she should respond to his raised hand—and then downed his goblet. Jack, laughing, did the same.
It wasn’t strong alcohol. It felt like beer, only thicker and less bubbly.
They made their way to the barrel and refilled, learning that the person who’d brought it over was called Mayon. He made this drink with wheat they’d bought from another tribe, a particular fruit Jack didn’t recognize—a Juiceberry—and triceratops milk, which apparently wasn’t really milk, but a milk-like substance they secreted from their mouths.
The surrounding people were laughing, chatting, and drinking in small groups. Nauja had gone off to speak with a friend of hers, a young man with blond hair.
Jack thought it was a good time to socialize. He looked around, but most people looked busy in their tight-knit groups. He assumed they’d open up as the night advanced. Therefore, he approached the one person who sat alone.
“Excuse me,” he said, “can I sit?”
The chief raised his head, stared at Jack for a second, then motioned at the open spot next to him on the log. Despite not speaking, his gaze seemed inviting, even approving.
Jack took a seat. This close to the fire, the heat was scalding, but his enhanced body only perceived it as moderate warmth. Brock didn’t agree, so he took off to hang out with other people. Jack caught him miming at people and replying with “yes,” “no,” or “bro.” He quickly became the center of attention.
“It must be tough being immortal,” said Jack, sipping from his goblet. Next to him, the chief hadn’t touched his.
“When the tree stops growing, it sags,” he replied in a slow, deliberate voice. This was an odd mixture of a man. He sat slouched, uncaring, not even trying. But Jack could feel the fire burning him, an enormous reservoir of power simply waiting to be unleashed on the world. His voice was tired, but it remained rich and powerful, used to commanding and being heard. There was no weakness in this man. He was merely tired.
“Why would it stop growing?” Jack asked. He tried to detect if the chief was bored of conversing, but it didn’t seem so. His short answers were preference, not rejection. A tiny smile played on the chief’s lips, so small that Jack would easily miss it if he wasn’t paying attention.
“Everything does,” the chief replied. “The apple tree stops quickly. The pine takes long, and the eucalyptus longer, but nothing is born without a limit. Even people. Even you and me.”
“I intend to rise far,” Jack said. “There is someone I must beat. If I do not reach the C-Grade in ten months, the Continent Cracker level, my enemies will strike down my people and my planet.”
It was a pretty blunt thing to say to someone who had remained a D-Grade for centuries, but Jack suspected the chief was in no mood for anything but direct truth. Indeed, the chief frowned but showed no sign of anger. He scanned Jack with his gaze, seeing through his plight in an instant.
“The world is unfair,” he said slowly. “The strong oppress the weak. They will never let them rise. It is all a ruse, a false hope to keep the slaves obedient so they can rule by words and not by force.”
Jack considered those words. He took his time. A few moments later, he asked, “Do you mean that I am doomed?”
“Nothing is absolute… But the balance is enforced. Change is forbidden. The faster you rise, the harder they will strike, and their power is insurmountable. To survive ascension, you must either yield and become one of them, bearing the cloak of the oppressor, or rise faster and stronger than anyone ever has, suppressing the entire world with your power alone.”
The chief’s words sounded like a retelling of thoughts buried deep inside him, ones that existed at the very core of his soul. They were weary, like the chief himself, but powerful. Jack wondered what his Dao was.
He felt the truth of these words vibrate in his own heart. Defeating the planetary overseer was an almost impossible task, but then what? The Animal Kingdom wouldn’t let him get away with it. They would throw B-Grades at him, and if the Galactic Alliance was corrupt, the entire galaxy might come down on his head for upsetting the balance and inspiring others to do the same.
Could he really triumph over everyone?
Strangely, the thought only raised his mood. It sounded despairingly difficult, but also simple. Straightforward. The perfect path for a fist to follow.
“You are wise, chief,” Jack said with a sigh.
For the first time, the chief chuckled, a deep sound that made many heads turn in surprise. “Not wise. I am simply old.”
“How old?”
“Five hundred galactic years. Roughly.”
“Wow… I’m twenty-eight.”
The chief smirked a bit but didn’t reply. He sipped from his goblet, and Jack did the same. Just as it emptied and he was about to refill it, excusing himself in the process, the chief spoke again.
“You are far from home.”
Jack paused. “I am.”
“You are brave. To achieve your goals, the only way is to conquer Trial Planet. All of it. And you will need power. Tomorrow, you and Nauja will hunt a beast near the Forbidden Cave, close to the delver camp. Fate will take its course. That is all the help I can offer.”
Jack looked over in discreet confusion. “Thank you, chief.”
“May the will of our ancestors be with you.”
Jack nodded, more thoughtful than he was a moment ago, and moved to refill his goblet.
“Jack.” The chief’s voice came again before he could make two steps. He turned around.
“Yes, chief?”
A strange light played in the chief’s eyes. It was almost threatening. “Do not trust the System.”
***
Alcohol flowed freely, and conversation slowly gave way to bare excitement. A man and a woman drew out small bongos, beating them to a rhythm that danced with the flames. Jack found his body moving to the tune. Beside him, Brock did the same.
One by one, the tribespeople stood up and gathered around the crackling bonfire, dancing in a way Jack hadn’t seen before. They shook their limbs wildly, rocking their bodies from side to side. In any club on Earth, they would be mocked. But here, Jack felt their movements strangely fitting. He grinned along, mustering the courage to dance himself.
“What are you waiting for?” Nauja’s voice came from behind him. Her hand grabbed his wrist. “Come on!”
She dragged him into the dance, where two dozen people were shaking themselves and having fun. Not many were young. Besides Nauja, another girl, and a blond man, everyone else was either over forty or under twelve.
Their bodies moved before the flames, casting long, dancing shadows. The music seeped into every pore of Jack’s body. He moved to the tune, without thinking, only dancing. It was liberating. He hadn’t cut loose in so long. He’d never been good at dancing.
Nauja danced with him, helping him feel less awkward. It was unnecessary. After everything he’d been through, a little dance felt so insignificant. He couldn’t be better.
A mass of rapidly writhing bodies surrounded him, shielding him in their midst. He’d lost Nauja at some point. A nearby woman danced with him for a bit, then a man whose moves reminded Jack of standing break dancing. Nauja reappeared by his side, and he grabbed her by the hand to spin her around. She laughed, holding his hand and spinning more. The mass of bodies packed tighter. Everyone came closer, a feeling of unity. The heat of fire became one with the warmth of people.
Jack found himself laughing. He realized he was drunk. He didn’t care. This was nice.
And the night went on.
Comments
Nilbog
100% this
Monadologist
these folks are so death flagged
