LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 19 Faceoff
At the temple entrance, Mother Marteen listened to our plight. The tone of her response sounded so rigid that, at first, I didn’t think she’d provide safe harbor. “Children, Our Lady of Balance is the venerable house of the goddess of vengeance.” She directed her gaze to the white marble statues in the courtyard. “You are where you belong. Of course, you are welcome. We are observing a religious rite, so we cannot let non-followers in the inner sanctum, but you may stay on the temple grounds as long as you wish.”
We thanked her and followed her into the temple.
She gestured to various statues set into alcoves inside the temple’s main hallway. “Many of these marble figures struggled against their enemies. Just as yourselves. People wronged or betrayed—who have suffered at the hands of others.”
All except one statue had a name chiseled into a scroll design beneath its alcove. Its blank scroll exhibited no name. The figure looked like a monk performing an oratory act, pointing to the sky as if making a profound argument.
Mother Marteen gave the statue’s story. “This temple belonged to the pontifex long before my time. His family built it, so it’s no surprise they appointed him its first steward. Though controversial, he has always been a favorite of mine. You passed the statue of his archrival in the garden—Adrian the Lame, a prohibitionist during a period when alcohol counted as a heresy. The city executed and cremated the pontifex after Adrian exposed him as a winemaker. Unrepentant, they erased records of his name, and this unnamed statue is all that remains of his identity.”
She touched the statue with reverence, fingertips caressing the blank marble scroll chiseled beneath its pedestal. The blank scrollwork struck me as sad. Only the pontifex statue bore no name. “Did Adrian replace the pontifex?”
“No. That was the strange thing—Adrian disappeared. The fundamentalists canonized him to sainthood when he never returned. His statue is outside in the garden.” She patted the blank scroll once more before withdrawing her hand. “The pontifex lost his name, and the friend who betrayed him became St. Adrian the Lame. Two great men—one sinner, one saint—fell on opposite sides of a schism. The tragic end of a friendship.”
Mother Marteen pointed to an inscription beneath the statue—Judge no one until you stand in their place. “You are on one side of a coin. Do what you must do, but don’t judge your rivals, for they are on the other side of the same coin.” She turned to the life-sized statue looming in an overhead alcove. “The pontifex, the so-called sinner, is a favorite of mine. He defied the prohibitionist edicts, and the fundamentalists martyred him. I pity villains, and you should pity yours, for only then can you understand them—and in doing so yourself.”
Her advice dumbfounded us into silence.
Mother Marteen genuflected before the effigy of the pontifex in its alcove and returned to her offices. “You may not disturb the library, the rectory, or the temple offices after sundown. But non-followers to Her Lady of Balance may shelter anywhere else. The public grounds are providence for all. Farewell, young rivals.” She retired behind the office door, locking it behind her.
Fabulosa sniffed. “She could’ve been more helpful.”
Charitybelle and I didn’t know what to think. Was there a double meaning in that story somewhere? More pressing issues than historical parallels dominated our thoughts. We discussed options and places to go.
“No matter where we go, that stupid dog of theirs will track me.”
Charitybelle’s brow furrowed as she reasoned out the situation like an engineering puzzle. “Given—We can’t abandon Fab. We can’t wait them out. But it’s also a given that we can’t shake them. Our protection buff goes away if we try to defend her.”
Fabulosa put her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I didn’t mean to drag y’all into this.”
Charitybelle shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re leaving Belden anyway. They could have backstabbed us 12 hours after we left. Without you, there would have been no advanced warning.”
Fabulosa opened her mouth, then closed it. She still looked guilty for having drawn them to us.
I echoed my girlfriend’s sentiment. “We can make a stand here. It’s three against three. At least we have weapons.”
My companions didn’t look convinced.
I pointed to Charitybelle’s swords. “What? We have weapons. You still have your swords. We can do this, maybe.”
Charitybelle pulled out boffers from her scabbards and held them aloft, showing what she’d carried from the drill yard. Her wooden practice swords served as weak clubs at best. The realization struck me. I filled my inventory’s 32 slots with trade skill equipment and reagents. The weapons I used in hunts came borrowed from RIP and the gang. Why would someone with immunity spend money on weapons? I assumed to inherit a hand-me-down once I left campus.
After a year of walking around campus, we’d gotten complacent. The spear I pulled from my inventory was the academy’s boffer, which I had hastily stashed into my inventory when Fabulosa arrived.
“I have one set of extra gear, at least. I don’t have any more armor. RIP carried all our armor.” Fabulosa gave Charitybelle a mace and a medium shield. At least my companions had real weapons. She handed me a heavy leather helmet.
Charitybelle shook her head. “How are we going to do this? We’re level 4. Fab’s 13, but all three of them are 16.”
I shrugged and shook my head.
My practice spear, swung hard enough, inflicted the same damage as a staff. It wasn’t much, but it could block attacks.
A low growl from a tiny throat interrupted our moment of silence. A small mutt stood at the temple entrance.
A young man called out in a sing-song falsetto voice. “Woo-ho! Is there anyone in here?” The voice reverberated in the large, vacant, marble hall. He cackled outside the entrance, projecting enough to make an echo.
The dog started to bark before disappearing in a puff of green vapor. Rather than yell at it to be quiet, the young man had unsummoned his Familiar. His pet had done its job.
A young man poked his curly blond head into the temple’s open doorway. His nameplate bore the word Tardee. He tilted his head sideways along the door, widening his eyes in exaggerated caution. The door creaked as he leaned against it. When he entered, he gawked at the temple’s interior in mock awe.
He dropped his charade and plodded inside. He swung his hands theatrically and slapped his feet on the marble floor—the echoes of his footfalls made unnecessary noise at volumes disrespectful to the temple’s ambiance.
My heart beat so loud I felt it in my ears. My anger at this person for ganking my friends held my fear in check. During our hunting trips, anxiousness often unsettled me before combat, but I felt ready to fight now. Tardee wasn’t just a random game entity wandering the hillside—he counted as an opponent I wanted to knock out of the contest.
Fabulosa curled her lip at the trespasser.
The warrior stopped 20 yards away from us, beneath the pontifex’s statue where Mother Marteen warned me not to judge my adversary. The three of us stood further into the temple near the middle of the open floor. Without pews or columns near us, it allowed for plenty of space for a fight.
I stepped forward. The intruder’s decorated armor complemented the decor of the temple’s ornate hallway trim. His nameplate gave his particulars—Tardee, level 16, had 200 health—whereas I had only 80.
I cast my only buff, Heavenly Favor. Its effects were hardly negligible, with my 15 ranks in light magic. It increased my health and mana by 40 and my stats by four—the equivalent of five levels’ worth of stat increases.
Tardee gave a fake laugh, a guffaw daring anyone to shush the unlikable noise. “Oh, that’s so precious! You ran home to your widdle friends.” He bent over, chuckling as if his stomach ached laughing. “Fabby-girl and I have unfinished business. What business is that you may ask? Why it’s Hit Squad business.” He laughed at himself, waved his short sword, and danced a jig, singing off-key. “You’re a-rollin’ with the Hit Squad! Uh-huh! Just a-rollin’ with the Hit Squad! Whoa!”
As Tardee shuffled back and forth and wailed off-key to a tune playing only in his head, the hallway surfaces dimmed—as if a global shadow had fallen across the white marble. The darkening hallway unnerved me. The impending gloom threatened us and evoked a sinister feel. But it felt at odds with Tardee’s juvenile taunts. Why did he act so strange?
The guy brayed like a jackass. It amounted to no small irony that I came to this conclusion before the effigy of the disgraced pontifex. The statue’s index finger pointed toward heaven in an elocutionary pose. I mentally apologized to the pontifex for judging my enemies, but morons like Tardee provided such a temptation. Mother Marteen’s lesson about empathizing with the enemy echoed in my thoughts, but putting myself in his place wasn’t easy. If he wasn’t a jackass, then what did he hope to accomplish with this display?
I opened my interface and slowed time to a crawl to get a moment to think. At least, the quietude spared me from Tardee’s caterwauling. Why taunt us? Fabulosa mentioned they teased her when they ganked ArtGirl, PinkFox, and RIP.
Was this guy hamming it up for the camera? Did he want Crimson to feature him in their reality show? His outrageous behavior screamed for attention, and it made sense. Crimson needed to edit the contest’s narrative heavily. He wasn’t just competing for money—he also wanted attention. An audience couldn’t follow 64 contestants, and the more airtime devoted to Tardee’s antics, the more he could become a household name and bad boy personality. He wanted to endorse energy drinks, introduce professional wrestlers, or appear in low-budget horror movies.
Tardee and his friends wanted to become a brand. But where had his friends gone? Stained glass covered the temple’s only windows, and Mother Marteen closed the only other door.
Fabulosa mentioned three gankers attacked with backstabs. She also said they used Stealth. It was too late to ask her for specifics. Perhaps something in their tactics might expose a vulnerability.
If these guys had Stealth, maybe Tardee wasn’t as stupid as he let on. His performance bought time for his friends to sneak into the building and position themselves behind us. They, not Tardee, posed the most threat. How do we deal with stealthers? None of our group used dark magic, so the only possible answers lay in the available powers tab of my interface.
Having unspent power points handy in emergencies became another reason to hoard them. Many of the powers promised advantages, but only under specific conditions. Picking the right power could tip the scale in our favor, so I carefully studied ability and spell descriptions.
My menu listed three deus ex machinas to Stealth.
Light might counter the darkening temple. Since I unlocked Dim, I knew how it behaved and realized Tardee used it in the hallway. Besides making an ominous entrance, it gave his friends ideal conditions for Stealth.
To counteract this, I could cast Light to remove their advantage. But wouldn’t that escalate into a Light versus Dim situation? And if multiple Lights and Dims stacked, then a level 4 like me would lose out to a level 16 player who almost certainly had more mana. Nor did it make sense to tip them off that I suspected approaching stealthers.
I checked out how Detect Stealth worked.
Power (spell)
Detect Stealth (tier 1)
Prerequisites
Light magic rank 11
Cost
40 mana
Cooldown
10 minutes
Cast time
3 seconds
Description
You can see stealthed creatures within a 15-yard radius for 4 seconds for every rank in light magic. Creatures may resist this effect.
Detect Stealth came from the school of light magic. It wasn’t divine in the holy sense—it revealed things like a divining rod.
At rank 15, the duration lasted only 60 seconds, and the chance they could resist Stealth Detection worried me. But if willpower contributed to spell resistance, what were the chances these dorks had advanced that stat? Once I cast Detect Stealth, I had only a minute to foil their attacks. After that, I had a ten-minute wait to cast it again, which amounted to eons in combat time.
Detect Stealth seemed the most obvious way to counter their infiltration, but I looked into a third option called Faerie Flames.
Power (spell)
Faerie Flames (tier 1)
Prerequisites
Nature magic rank 11
Cost
30 mana
Cooldown
5 minutes
Cast time
5 seconds
Description
Caster envelops area in a 15-yard radius, illuminating creatures with a green halo for 3 minutes + 1 for every fifth rank in nature magic. This effect applies to stealthed, hidden, and invisible creatures and reveals illusionary beings.
It exposed stealthers for a long duration, but I wanted these players to overextend themselves and lure them inside the temple. They wouldn’t do this if I openly foiled their trap. I spent a power point on Detect Stealth.
After looking at my options, I purchased my next power, an air-based environmental spell called Compression Sphere.
Power (spell)
Compression Sphere (tier 1)
Prerequisites
Nature magic rank 8
Cost
30 mana
Cooldown
5 minutes
Cast time
3 seconds
Description
Within a 30-yard range, caster compresses air into the smallest possible volume over 3 seconds. A shockwave knocks back creatures and objects within a 5 feet radius. Creatures and objects will blow over a distance proportional to the caster’s rank in nature magic and their mass, size, and location in the shockwave.
I’d been eyeing this spell for a long time. It scaled and introduced effects like falling damage, especially against monsters on a cliff. It wasn’t as good at crowd control as Tangling Roots, but any gamer could see its potential for versatility. Abilities that affected an enemy’s position could be game changers. It involved a pure guess if its strength could knock out an assassin for a short while. For a spell that unlocked at rank 8, my nature rank of 15 ought to be high enough to make it potent. Compression Sphere ultimately seemed worth a shot, so I spent my last power point on it.
I readied myself for combat and closed my interface.