Chapter 118: Freedom

  For once, Parth was very glad to wake up without any vision or any other bullshit. He brought up his signet ring and looked at his screen. He had apparently slept for twenty-three hours. For a second, he didn’t believe his eyes. But his body told a different story.

  After Parth had returned to the settlement with their supplies, they’d unpacked it all like they were excited children on Christmas morning. They’d gotten a measure of how much they had, and the first thing they did was that all three of them had eaten their fill. Parth had immediately gone to sleep, as he’d been technically awake for more than a week.

  He felt great now. In fact, great was an understatement. Sure, after awakening from the meditation, he’d felt a sense of serenity. But he hadn’t fully realized how much fatigue he was under. How it was clouding his newfound clarity. The difference was night and day.

  Parth’s heatmap was active, and the amount of precision he felt through that sense was also greatly enhanced. His brain was processing all that information with ease.

  His entire being was brimming with energy. He was ready to go. But he had overshot his sleep, and his teammates hadn’t woken him up.

  He looked around the chamber. It was pretty dark, only being lit by the two remaining mana crystals. He could sense that Moira was bundled up in a corner. With his heatmap active, he could easily see the air she was inhaling and exhaling in a very consistent rhythm. She was asleep.

  What he couldn’t sense even now was Vyasadatta. The ghost of the old man was floating closer to the mana crystal, meditating. It was like a student doing a cramming session right before the exams. The man was going to be free, but he wanted to get some cleansing exercises done before he left the world, essentially.

  Collecting the stuff he needed, Parth made his way out of the chamber and returned to the town square. He couldn’t see Kwame, but he caught him in his heatmap. Kwame was out near the fields, taking a slow walk.

  He decided not to disturb Kwame. Instead, Parth lifted his right hand, materialized his gauntlet, and the next second, a fireball was floating in the air. The whole sequence felt very smooth. With just a thought, the fireball transformed into a cube, then a pyramid. The delay was minimal, and the mana consumption was negligible. It was effortless.

  He didn’t even miss his pseudo core. And he understood why. According to Stefan, his synchronization rate was at ninety-nine percent, and glitching apparently. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t get an ego boost. Did he even need the headache of maintaining a pseudo core? The concentration and focus required could be better spent on materializing blue flames.

  In fact, he’d rather train for years and go for the true seven core chakra method that Vyasadatta was raving about. Those things apparently didn’t require maintenance after they were actualized. But it was a tall task. It took their teacher a thousand years to formulate the method. Even then, they didn’t really know if it was possible for a living person. Nonetheless, it was something for later. Parth’s immediate concerns were mastering his abilities and beating the dungeon.

  He’d leave psuedo core method to Kwame and Moira. He didn’t require the extra mana. Not after his ‘penance’, and definitely not after his sync rate had apparently gone higher. His large reserves, coupled with the minute control, were more than enough. He needed to make the best of it before trying to create false mana batteries. The latency advantage of the cores was already moot for him due to his fine control.

  Parth let the fireball disappear and instead got to brushing his teeth.

  A couple of minutes later, he was perched atop the hut, a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand. Oh, how he had missed this. Next time around, just in case he would be storing some of those instant coffee mixes in his teammates’ luggage as well. As usual, it didn’t taste all that great, but for someone starved of caffeine for upwards of two weeks, it felt nice.

  With dismay, he realized that the caffeine didn’t do anything for him. His mind and body were operating at a higher level than before.

  In fact, a part of him felt indifferent about it. It was as if he was just going through the motions of it for familiarity’s sake. Maybe he had learnt something about detachment after all.

  Well, maybe some truly good coffee on the other side would reawaken the joys of the thing.

  For now, he’d be happy with the supplies he’d gotten. Celeste had really pulled through. Of course, apart from the usual provisions, there were some other surprises as well. Like the current garments that Parth was wearing. All three of them had gotten new undersuits specifically geared towards the heat of this trial. Although it would be pointless soon. They still appreciated the effort, though. Parth, more than anyone else, because he needed it the most. Not for the weatherproofing. He could already handle the temperature. He just needed proper clothes.

  The armor was a different story. These plates were not synthetic metals. They were just a bunch of spare carbon fiber armor plates, laced with mana crystals. Backup armor.

  Presumably, the new primary armor that they had commissioned before coming to the dungeon was still not done yet. But it was fine, something was better than nothing. And the carbon fiber aesthetic paired up quite well with the red drake scale cloak.

  And it was not like Kwame and Moira needed it all that much. Even scuffed up, their armor was mostly intact. Except for a few plates that were beyond salvaging. They’d replaced those with these backup plates. The contrast between their new and old plates was not flattering. But their cloaks covered it all, nonetheless.

  Celeste had combed through the footage and prepared everything for them. The lady was thorough. She didn’t even know that Parth had his armor completely shredded. The footage ended before that, as Moira had shipped her recorder off with Wil and Cara. But Celeste had anticipated damaged armor plates and provided backups for all three of them nonetheless.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  As Parth was almost done with his cup of coffee, Kwame walked into the town square. He didn’t limp; he walked, which was a massive improvement. Courtesy of the prosthetic he was wearing, instead of the bone peg leg that they had patched together.

  The mini box had all sorts of surprises like that. Extra binoculars, extra utility knives, and combat knives. No extra blasters, but Moira still had her old one, and she had been using it less after gaining her second artifact. Kwame had fully stopped using his. Especially after the tragedy in the previous level. He’d completely embraced his artifact and its lethality now. And Parth never needed additional weapons, so it was needless baggage that wasn’t required. He did appreciate the new utility knife, though. Celeste had been very thorough and particular in what she sent. No space wasted.

  “How’s the prosthetic?” asked Parth.

  “It’s quite good. Celeste had attached a small note to it. This is just a temporary measure. She has already commissioned an elaborate prosthetic for when I go outside. But right now, this is more than enough. I can walk without a limp, and it doesn’t hurt the stump,” Kwame said.

  And indeed it was pretty simple. Not like the advanced prosthetic limb that Parth had spotted on Blackbog’s arm before they had embarked on the second trial. Kwame would get a similar one. But for now, this worked.

  A small metallic cup was connected to his leg. An adjustable stem extended from it. And the stem was advanced enough to automatically adjust to Kwame’s height. Below that was a sphere that mimicked a heel. And finally, a plate connected to the bottom of the sphere, acting as his foot. The plate had hinges that facilitated a proper range of motion as well. All in all, it was simple but pretty well-made.

  Once again, Parth was reminded how Tavan engineering was astonishingly advanced, especially when it came to the medical field. He had complete faith that Kwame’s proper prosthetic would work more than sufficiently.

  It was a shame that such an injury happened, in the first place. But there was no point in dwelling in what ifs anymore. They’ve already done the blame game, each one blaming themselves, with Kwame blaming himself the most.

  “Care for a cup of coffee?” Parth asked.

  “I’m good, man. That’s not good coffee. I don’t know how you even drink it,” Kwame replied, his nose scrunched in repulsion.

  “To a man dying of thirst, even a sewer is an oasis,” Parth joked.

  “I think you’ve spent too much time around Roul, Parth. His humor has rubbed off on you.”

  “You take that back, mister,” Parth said, displaying mock horror at such an insinuation.

  “I said what I said,” Kwame deadpanned.

  Both of them chuckled in mirth before settling down.

  “Anyway. Why didn’t you wake me? We could have left here by now,” Parth asked.

  “No, you needed the rest after that stunt you pulled. So we decided to let you sleep and continued our rotations instead. Moira will be awake in a couple of hours. We can leave then.”

  “Ah, alright. Sorry about the inconvenience, then,” Parth apologized.

  “It’s not really one,” Kwame reassured him.

  Kwame then hopped to the roof with his good leg and landed on the roof with both feet. Mana visibly covered his prosthetic, reinforcing it as he landed.

  “That’s smooth, dude. Does it require a lot of reinforcement?”

  “Not really. It’s supposed to be sturdy. And even then, it doesn’t require so much reinforcement that the mana becomes visible. But I’m just afraid that I’ll break it,” Kwame said, taking a seat beside Parth.

  “I get it.”

  They sat there for a while just looking at the scenery. Far in the distance, something exploded loudly, and Parth could see a line of smoke rising in the east. Given the nature of this trial, it was most likely a volcano erupting violently.

  This far off, they weren’t party to the adverse effects just yet. But it would only be a matter of time.

  “Is that happening often?” Parth asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve been keeping track of it with the data that we have and my binoculars. So far, the ones erupting have all been known volcanoes. The unknown ones, like the one we escaped from, haven’t erupted yet. But I’ll give it a day or two; the frequency is increasing. It’s only bound to get worse.”

  “Soon, this whole place will be swimming in lava,” Parth sighed.

  “Yep.”

  “It’s a blessing that we can fly. I shudder to think what would have happened if none of us could fly. Both the previous trial and this one would be complete hell.”

  Kwame nodded in agreement as they continued staring at the smoke.

  A few hours later, Moira was awake. All three of them were gathered in the chamber, now fully lit with Parth’s fireballs.

  “So, it’s time,” Vyasadatta said.

  “Yeah, we have to get moving, and before that, we have to keep our word and set you free,” Parth said.

  “Of course, and I can’t be more grateful.”

  “We are the ones who are actually grateful. You taught us a lot. All three of us have grown stronger because of you. We have been safe this past week because of you. Without your guidance, we would have had a hard time,” Moira said.

  “Ah, I was just taking advantage of my situation. I didn’t want my final moments to be as lonely as my existence has been so far. Anyway, I hope that all of you keep my words in mind. Keep practicing, keep getting stronger, and escape the dungeon for good. Ayushman bhava,” the man said with a wide smile. While uttering the last two words, he held his right palm close to his torso, facing the three voyagers.

  Kwame and Moira looked at him in confusion, unsure of what the words meant.

  “He wishes us a long life,” Parth said, after performing a short bow, his palms pressed together in front of his chest.

  “But not as long as mine. It’s a curse more than a blessing,” The two millennia old spirit joked.

  “Mm-hmm. Thanks for the blessings, teach. And yes, we’ll keep practicing. And hopefully stop this madman from torturing himself without any guidance,” Moira said.

  “You can meditate, there’s no harm in it. In fact, it’s very good for you. But the kind of ascetic tapasya that Parth performed does need guidance.”

  “So if I do it again, would it make even more of a difference?” Parth asked.

  “It’s like swimming, Parth. You can only learn it once. You can’t keep learning it again and again. Sure, you can practice, improve your form, and learn different styles. But the core lesson has already been learned. So now it’s all about improvement,” Vyasadatta said.

  “I understand.”

  “And you two. Don’t try it without a true mana sensor monitoring you at all times. That’s why I offered you the option. I could monitor you without getting tired.”

  “Nah, I’m good, teach. I have no intention of doing that shit ever,” Moira said with a shake of her head.

  Kwame looked thoughtful for a moment. “Stefan can monitor us with this artifact, but if we want to do this, then he’ll have to put his training on hold. We can’t ask that of him. Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t see myself doing this at all anyway. But thanks a lot, sir. Your help is much appreciated. It’ll keep us alive.”

  “It’s no problem. I loved teaching you three. And I feel very good about your chances. On this note, may we meet each other in the next life. Look out for each other until then. And I guess this is farewell.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is. Thank you very much, sir,” Parth said with a heavy heart.

  He then went on to complete the task that he had started a week and a half ago. He removed the two final mana crystals from the gravestone.

  Vyasadatta’s transparent visage immediately began to glow. He had a wide smile on his face and unshed tears in his eyes as his spirit broke into motes of light. Within a few seconds, the mores of light dissolved into nothingness. After more than two millennia of torture, of being a prisoner of this dungeon, he was finally free.