Suiteonem Prime, Grail Beach, Suiteonem V, 20137

  Sixty-eight shot a vine coming right at her.

  The thing wriggled like a fat worm as she had to dive and roll to get behind Eighty.

  Her much bigger half-sister roared like a crazed beast with each swipe of her axe.

  An axe that appeared to grow more golden with each arc through the foggy air.

  Behind them, Seven cut vines with his blades with the same contemptuous ease as an explorer cut through an undergrowth that didn’t strike back.

  “Disgusting!” Fifteen’s lip curled as she blocked the vines with a magic shield for both her and Thirty-two.

  “Wait, Eighty! Don’t advance! Hold your ground!”

  Seven’s words fell on deaf ears.

  Or rather, ears already filled with the sound of rage.

  Eighty charged into the maelstrom of thorny vines.

  The steel of her axe glowed from red to white with each step as the golden glow began to extend from the blade, turning into arcs that hung in the air for a brief moment.

  “She’s found a breakthrough,” Thirty-two murmured.

  “Of course. It’s brutish simplicity, which is her only strength,” Fifteen scoffed.

  Eighty’s cleaves spread out farther than her axe’s physical reach.

  Severed vines littered the ground around her, spraying their dark ichor all over the once pristine cavern floor.

  Hard spears of wood struck out straight unlike the snake-like vines.

  Sixty-eight shot as many as she could before they could hit Eighty, but a few got through to punch through Eighty’s armor.

  That only made her angrier.

  Rage healed and there was enough of it at the moment.

  Though that wouldn’t last long since the elemental wasn’t generating any.

  It struck suddenly, surging forward like a fast ooze rather than a shambling mound of wood, earth and plant matter. It opened up once again. Grasping vines shot out, wrapping Eighty like a fish in a squid’s tentacles.

  Before anyone could do anything it pulled her inside just like their ill-fated guide.

  The same churning sounds emanated from the pulsing mound.

  The screech of metal. The cracking of wound.

  But no screams.

  Just roars that grew angrier by the second.

  Sixty-eight aimed but didn’t squeeze the trigger.

  She sensed an opportunity.

  “Shouldn’t we do something?” Thirty-two ventured.

  “I can set in on fire again.” Fifteen shrugged. “Not that it’ll stay ablaze. Its dampness is partially magical.”

  Seven held up one of his blades.

  “We wait.”

  “As long as she doesn’t sound like she’s in pain then I concur,” Fifteens said.

  Sure enough the mound exploded a few moments later.

  Eighty lunged out, staggering a few more steps before crashing to one knee.

  She thrust a glowing rock out then squeezed it in her meaty hand.

  It seemed to shriek faintly before crumbling into pieces.

  The elemental shuddered.

  Then a fourth of it suddenly stopped moving.

  The wood, earth and plant matter slowly turned gray to white like spent charcoal.

  As it shambled forward the dead quarter crumbled behind like so much ash.

  There!

  Sixty-eight had kept her eye out.

  The gaping holes left in the elemental were slow to close.

  Faint light beat through a hole the size of her primitive rifle’s barrel.

  Her shot rang out and another quarter of the elemental fell to ashes.

  “Halfway there!” Seven said.

  Eighty grunted.

  Sixty-eight’s face twisted against her gag reflex.

  Eighty was a disgusting sight.

  Her armor was a torn mess mixed with clothes and flesh all crimson that it was hard to tell if the hanging strips were the former or the latter.

  There was no question about her face.

  The hanging strips were flesh.

  White stood out starkly through the dripping red.

  Sixty-eight counted a few ribs and more bones in Eighty’s arms and legs that shouldn’t have been visible.

  The elemental reached out for the downed Eighty, but it was slower.

  Seven leapt in with flashing blades.

  Sixty-eight fired a shot a second.

  Thirty-two took about four seconds between shots and he mostly hit harmless wood or earth, not the deadly vines and spears.

  A gout of steam erupted from the elemental like from a tea kettle’s spot.

  The scalding attack billowed out but before it could consume Seven and Eighty, Fifteen cast an orb of freezing cold in its path.

  Steam turned to harmless mist as it washed over the demigods.

  “The holes, Fifteen! Stab them! Make them bigger and stop them from closing!” Seven said.

  “Judging by the loss of mass from two, I believe that it has two remaining,” Thirty-two said.

  Sixty-eight sneered and scoffed silently in her thoughts.

  She already knew that.

  It was obvious to anyone with an eye that the elemental was half as large as it had been at the beginning of the fight.

  Thirty-two must’ve been feeling extra useless when the best he could do was land shots of what was essentially a target the size of a wall.

  She supposed that it was better than him missing completely or shooting Eighty and Seven.

  The thought made her angrier.

  Part of her thought that was a good thing for Eighty.

  More rage was good for the healing.

  Fifteen said some fancy words in a fancy voice.

  Not that she cast spells like real mages.

  All she was doing was turning the divine energy into spells.

  Every demigod could do it… theoretically…

  Not that Sixty-eight cared that she couldn’t despite a year of classes.

  None of the others could do it either.

  Not in the explicit way Fifteen could.

  The thought made Sixty-eight angrier.

  Golden circles coalesced into golden ornate golden spikes taller than Thirty-two in the air above the elemental as Fifteen chanted her weird words and made dumb-looking finger and arm movements.

  The spikes dropped, pinning the elemental to the ground through its holes.

  “Let’s go, Eighty! Find the cores!” Seven said. “The rest of you try to keep it off our backs.”

  Sixty-eight did just that.

  Shooting the vines and wood spears before they could hit her two half-siblings as the pair dug into the immobilized elemental like it was hiding treasure from them.

  It took awhile and she ran out of bullets, while Fifteen ran out of energy.

  Thirty-two, as expected, still had a lot of bullets.

  “Useless,” Sixty-eight muttered.

  But, the ire wasn’t truly there.

  Her pot had boiled over and was now empty.

  The rage was gone without someone or something to be enraged at.

  “Grail nymph!” Seven called out to the still lake. “We have slain your beast and passed your test!”

  “You should heal her,” Thirty-two whispered to Fifteen while pointing a discreet finger at Eighty.

  The wounded demigod was more crimson than any other color as she lay on the warm cavern floor.

  She was still breathing, so the lochos’ concern level was low.

  “I told you already!” Fifteen snapped. “I can’t cast any spells right now. Maybe not for a whole day or even two.” She pouted.

  Seven paced just short of the lake’s sandy beach.

  Sixty-eight went over to stand near him because Fifteen’s voice made her mad, which was normal, so she knew that there wasn’t any outside forces trying to mess with her mind.

  Adventurers back home in her parents’ employ or patronage had told her stories about dungeon delves presenting more challenges than a simple monster fight.

  “Puzzles,” she grunted.

  Seven stopped.

  “Nothing else popped up.”

  “Maybe they’re giving us time to rest and heal?”

  “Good point.”

  Seven went over and had an argument with Fifteen about healing Eighty enough that their tank could at least stand and swing a weapon.

  Not her axe cause that was a melted lump of steel on the ground.

  “Is everyone deaf! I can’t do any magic right now!”

  “You can meditate instead of not doing anything. Every second is vital.”

  “Fine! Whatever.” She flounced a short distance away to take a seat on the ground and begin her meditation.

  Seven regarded the lake.

  “Any other thoughts? A puzzle would show itself, wouldn’t it? I don’t know a lot about dungeoneering.”

  “Yeah. It would. But, the spires should have notified us already. There’d be the notice and a timer if it was giving us time to rest.”

  “And the Quest said we just had to beat the elemental monster, which also reads as completed. So, where is our reward?”

  “Do we want it?”

  “There should be no issues drinking from the Grail. We don’t have classes, but the research we did mentions a few unclassed drinking from the Grail and gaining a general strength increase. Admittedly, none of those people were demigods…”

  “I don’t want to explode from the water mixing badly with my divine blood.”

  Seven sighed.

  “Don’t worry, Sixty-eight. I intend to drink first. If I explode feel free to refrain.” He resumed pacing for several minutes.

  She scanned the tranquil surface with her divinely-empowered eyes.

  Unnaturally still. Like glass even with sight that could see the membranes on an insect’s wings at a hundred meters with ease.

  “I can’t see past the surface.”

  “Expectedly strange and defiant of the natural laws that govern existence. Rainbows with the things that create rainbows.” He threw his hands at the lake and the surrounding pools and their beautiful, ethereal light show. “Do we have to swim to the bottom and get it?”

  “In some of the stories that’s what people had to do.”

  It varied.

  Sometimes those seeking the Grail merely had to wade in until one of the nymphs brought them the cup. Or it appeared floating above the surface. Or it sat on the beach.

  Often times there was nymph sex involved.

  Sixty-eight’s face twisted.

  Not a God’s damned chance.

  She’d shoot them first if they even suggested it.

  Seven began taking his armor off.

  “I’m going for it.”

  “Wait more? Fifteen needs time to heal Eighty anyways.”

  “No. That’ll take too much time. We’ll lose ground on the other lochoi.” He rubbed his close-cropped hair. “The eidolons didn’t come take the second set of syarumen we defeated like the first. They must have some way to keep track,” he muttered.

  “We aren’t they here now?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  He stopped in the middle of taking off his boots.

  “That’s a good question. Another reason why I’m being more impatient than I usually am. We need to drink before they can try to stop us.”

  “Would they? If no demigod has ever taken a drink from the Grail wouldn’t they want to see what happens?”

  “Sure. Unless there’s a specific reason they wouldn’t want that. We can only research what was recorded. Our father wouldn’t allow something to be written down if he doesn’t want it remembered.” Seven finished removing his last boot. “Be ready to provide covering fire.”

  “What if they want to have sex with you?” she blurted out with disgust written across her face.

  Seven shrugged.

  The disgusted extended to her half-brother due to the grin he hadn’t managed to smother before she caught it.

  He raised his hands.

  “That shouldn’t be a possibility. Everything I’ve read about this whole thing said that the, uh, sex-stuff is only a slight possibility with adults. Out of all the non-adults to drink from the Grail none reported the, uh, sex…”

  “Or they lied. Would you tell people?”

  “Yes,” Seven said flatly.

  “Gross.”

  “I promise you that I’m not interested in any of that at the moment. So, please don’t shoot me in the back.”

  The still waters rippled slightly as Seven dipped a toe in the mirror surface.

  “Not enough ripples,” Sixty-eight murmured as she shouldered her rifle and scanned around Seven for threats.

  They abruptly died a few meters from Seven as if they just ceased to exist rather than to diminish gradually or even hit an invisible barrier.

  The key point was that Sixty-eight couldn’t see any magic or Skills at work like she sometimes could when she was able to really focus her divine energy to her eyes.

  It would prove to be a very useful skill in battle once she was able to do it in the middle of the frantic struggle of life and death.

  As it stood, it was a difficult thing to do while on one knee in an unnaturally calm and silent cavern.

  Mostly silent.

  She could hear Fifteen’s muttered meditation words of disgruntled anger and Eighty’s wheezing breaths.

  Before Seven could take another step the still mirror in front of him suddenly erupted showering them all.

  She squeezed the trigger at the flash of blue.

  The same nymph from earlier glared and pouted as she held the bullet up inside an orb of water.

  “Un-believable. We grant you this honor against all our rules and this is how you show gratitude. Ugh. Your kind… so violent,” she shook her head of luscious blue-green hair.

  Sixty-eight hadn’t realized it during the first encounter on account that she had been on the lookout for threats, but the nymph was very naked.

  “Whatever.”

  The nymph threw a wooden object at Seven. Then waved dismissively as she slowly sank back into the mirror surface of the lake.

  It was a cup or chalice.

  Sixty-eight knew the latter word from the research Seven and Thirty-two made her do.

  She didn’t really get the difference.

  It was something like a fancy cup?

  Specifics aside, it looked like a cup to her.

  Plain and wood.

  It didn’t have any engravings and such.

  “Hey!” She pointed it out. “That doesn’t look like any of the drawings, paintings or pictures!”

  The nymph stopped and turned, rolling her eyes.

  “The Grail takes the form that the claimant desires or fits.” She grinned sharp teeth. “Or we have a lot of different Grails and none of them really matter. It’s the lake water that matters. Or I’m a liar. So, drink up, children of a fake god. Drink up and gain power. Or explode.” She waved, half-turned, but turned back to eye Seven. “You can come back in, I don’t know, two, maybe three years if you really want to prove yourself worthy.” She winked.

  With that gross parting offer she slipped beneath the surface and turned the lake back into a still mirror that appeared as if it stretched from one end of the horizon to the other despite being inside a cavern.

  Seven took a deep breath and drank even deeper from the Grail.

  It was a long few minutes while they waited to see if he would explode.

  Instead, nothing happened.

  “I was expecting something more,” he said. “Like a rainbow light explosion or an aura like that magistrate woman.”

  “You didn’t explode.” She pointed out the important part. “Do you feel stronger?”

  He smiled.

  “I feel great! And I believe that my wounds are all healed!”

  “Yeah?”

  The cuts and burn marks that had been all over his body were indeed gone.

  He held out the Grail.

  “Do you want to drink next or—”

  She gestured toward Fifteen.

  “It, uh, might give her her energy back.”

  Sixty-eight didn’t voice her opinion, but she wanted more than a few minutes to be sure that exploding was really off the table.

  …

  “And where have you been, children?”

  The eidolon hit them with her looming presence the moment they stepped out of the nymph’s mouth.

  Not a literal mouth.

  The cavern opening leading to the lake.

  The second thing that hit Sixty-eight was the stench.

  Dozens of monster corpses were scattered all over the tunnel.

  She supposed that explained the look on the eidolon’s face.

  Having to stand and wait in the miasma would’ve been unpleasant for anyone.

  “We have successfully completed the challenge and drank from the Grail,” Seven said.

  The eidolon’s face didn’t twitch a centimeter. It was as if she was like the marble statues back in the dormitory.

  Sixty-eight didn’t know the eidolon’s name and recognition was dim because they all looked and sounded the same to her.

  The silence in the dimness stretched out uncomfortably.

  As in a literal sense for Sixty-eight.

  Her newly healed skin was itchy and she couldn’t scratch because to make idle movements while under the direct gaze of an eidolon meant some kind of punishment.

  “That is an acceptable reason for missing the majority of the test,” the eidolon said. “Come along, children. Let us test what you’ve gained here and if it was worth it.”

  “Honored eidolon. May I ask a question?” Seven said.

  “Yes.”

  “Did we fail the test?”

  “The only failure was death. So, no, you didn’t fail.”

  “Then where did we fall in the scoring?”

  “You placed seventeenth out of twenty.”

  She waved a hand and a golden portal opened up like their father’s eye.

  …

  Back in the World Tree, Sixty-eight’s vision went white as the thin needle touched a nerve in her arm, sending blazing fire all the way up to her shoulder, her neck and brain.

  Adding a pain spell to the needle seemed unnecessary to her, but what did she know?

  “Pain tolerance noted as within margin of error of subject’s pain tolerance prior to imbibing foreign magical liquid of unknown provenance.”

  People hovered over her. She felt like a mouse under many owls with their giant eyes behind their many lenses and glowing spells.

  Doctors, assistants and such.

  She didn’t know, nor did she care.

  All that mattered was that she had no choice in regards to the testing.

  The one good part of it was that she was so enraged at them that the pain from the tests never lasted long.

  “One more time.”

  She jerked against the restraints, bit down on the mouthguard and savored imagining tearing everyone in the examination room limb from limb.

  Some time later, perhaps an hour or two, it was hard to tell, Sixty-eight sat in an eidolon’s office.

  The young-looking man was in charge or something.

  She didn’t know.

  He peered down at her like some kind of unblinking bird-monster. Like she was a curious-looking mouse and he was unsure if she was a morsel or plaything.

  “Two months since drinking from a relic-class item.”

  “Sure.” She shrugged.

  “Not a question.”

  “Okay.” She shrugged harder.

  “Recount your experience.”

  She ground her teeth.

  The pot had been emptied by the testing. It began to refill, heat and simmer.

  “Calm yourself. We are on a schedule and a lesson at this time is not on it.” The eidolon raised a lazy hand and traced a glowing pattern that seized her attention and cooled the fire. “Proceed with efficiency and accuracy.”

  And so she did.

  After a hundred re-tellings it had become second nature for her.

  “Adequate,” the eidolon said. “Deviations within expectations based on fallible human memory. You have many years before you can improve your brain to a sufficient level so as to not shame your divine origin.”

  Her shrug was the hardest yet.

  “Intellect.” He poked her with a golden needle to the forehead. Hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. “No increase.”

  “Body.” The needles poked her on every bit of exposed skin. “Four percent increase to bone and muscle density. Three percent increase to organ function.” His eyes narrowed. “No change to divine energy beyond standard improvement over time. Adequate. We shall see you in a week.”

  Dismissed, Sixty-eight stomped out of the medical building.

  So, they wasted hours just to make her feel pain to tell her what she already knew.

  Thirty-two and Fifteen had devised a system using their numbers at different exercises to come up with similar results. And she definitely preferred not having pain needles stuck into her body.

  “Hey, weasel!” a voice called out.

  Half-siblings suddenly appeared around a corner, surrounding her.

  “Hey.” She gave the leader a sharp nod. “You…”

  She recognized their faces, but didn’t remember their names.

  Truthfully, outside of her lochos and a handful of those in the lochoi above and in the same general rank she didn’t really try that hard to remember her half-siblings.

  Most of them sucked, probably.

  Eighty and Thirty-two were okay.

  Seven was okay when he wasn’t being bossy.

  Fifteen also sucked.

  Not as bad as One, who got every other stupid half-sibling to call her that weird name.

  She shifted her stance and readied her hands. One went to brush her growing hair back. One nonchalantly slipped into her pocket.

  Drinking from the Grail had another unexpected effect.

  Some, like Thirty-two, might call it a negative one.

  Others, like Eighty, would call it positive.

  She occupied a middle position.

  “So, weasel. What’s new with—”

  She hurled the small pouch in the face of her much bigger half-brother.

  Fifteen’s work.

  A bit of ground up plant or vegetable seeds, a bit of enchanting and some other things.

  The reddish powder bloomed into a thick cloud that expanded in a near-instant to engulf the three standing in front of her.

  They yelled and choked as their faces burned.

  Not literally.

  There were rules governing the intra-sibling violence.

  No killing, no maiming, no sexual violence.

  If caught then the attackers faced greater punishment than what they dished out.

  This last rule appeared to have been relaxed ever since her lochos had returned from Grail Beach.

  Hands grabbed and lashed out, but she was lower to the ground and slipped underneath.

  A punch to the groin crumpled her half-sister.

  Contrary to popular belief hitting a girl between the legs still hurt.

  A second half-brother doubled over just as hard.

  What was true was that boys held greater psychological fear over groin punches.

  She kicked and stomped.

  An error as it allowed the others to jump her.

  As effective as Fifteen’s powder concoction was they were still demigods driven by rage.

  Though blinded they were able to find her well enough.

  A minute at the bottom of a boot party only made her angry.

  Smashed nose and fingers slowed her down, but that general increase to her strength gifted by the water of Grail Lake allowed her explode up in a whirlwind of fists and boots.

  “They were right!”

  “Shut up! We’re five! We are not losing to the weasel!”

  “Argh, my precious balls!”

  She had gotten a good grip and squeeze, feeling them pop like grapes.

  Very painful but easily healable, therefore not counted as maiming.

  A fist clocked the back of her head.

  When she woke up a moment later a knee digging between her shoulder blades and strong hands were ripping her head back.

  “If we can put you down for a week we get a bonus, weasel,” the voice spat in her ear.

  She reached back, clawing for an eye.

  She had done so the last time she had been jumped.

  Now that counted as maiming and had cost her another month on her wait to get her own eye grown back.

  “Worth it,” she managed to hiss out.

  “What’d you chitter, weasel? Begging for mercy? Not so special even with that fancy nymph bathwater. You’re stronger, but that only brought you up a few rungs on the ladder beneath my feet. A broken neck should put you down for a week.”

  A roar shook the trees.

  “Shit!”

  “Not worth it anymore.”

  “Hurry up and break it! We’ve got to get out of here before—”

  Too late.

  Sixty-eight laughed.

  Her lochos had come to her aid.

  After it had become clear that they were being targeted, Seven had ordered Thirty-two to come up with an alarm device that would slip beneath their half-siblings’ notice.

  A little insect automaton had flown out of her shirt the moment she had spotted the ambush. It had flown high and sent out a signal that was relayed to the other automaton’s Thirty-two had scattered all over the school grounds and in every building he could manage without triggering automated defenses.

  The signal vibrated the small gem they kept on their person at all times.

  Sixty-eight wore hers on a necklace.

  The fight was less of a fight and more of a literal stomp.

  Eighty ground the leader’s head into the grass with her boot.

  “Ease off,” Seven said. “We can only break noses and fingers, but not all fingers.”

  The violence had to be close to proportional to follow the rules.

  The defenders were granted an advantage in the reckoning.

  Since five had attacked one, Sixty-eight’s lochos could inflict more damage on each of the attackers than they had inflicted on her.

  “Shouldn’t you be in a lesson, Eighty?” Thirty-two said.

  “Yeah, but I’m tired of missing out.”

  “They’re going to punish you.”

  “Worth it,” she grinned.

  Eighty had only been directly attacked once. After she had smashed that lochos the others had decided to stay away.

  Thirty-two and Sixty-eight were tied for most number of attacks received.

  Followed by Fifteen.

  Although, the attacks on her dropped off a cliff after she had learned a spell. A curse to the groin area that brought on a maddening itching and burning sensation.

  The healers could heal them instantly, but only did so at an expensive cost in Universal Points, which were a precious resource for the demigods.

  Sixty-eight pouted.

  “What? We saved you.” Fifteen rolled her eyes. “And I already fixed your face and hands.”

  “I was going to bite their noses off.”

  Fifteen regarded her like she had spontaneously sprouted a second head for a long moment.

  “That’s a shame. That tactic has proved successful at preventing future attacks from those that have suffered your… gnawing.”

  Biting noses off didn’t count as maiming.

  “Seven, can she bite off one nose?” Fifteen said.

  Their leader considered the question.

  “Sorry, Sixty-eight. That sort of thing is allowable in the heat of battle, but not after.”

  Sixty-eight shrugged.

  She marked the leader of her attackers.

  He had a prominent, hooked nose. More like a hawk’s beak than a human nose.

  That kind was the perfect shape for biting. Unlike the small, button-type ones that were hard to get a grip on.

  “How much longer are we going to have to deal with this nonsense, Seven?” Fifteen said.

  “Until the rewards are no longer worth the effort.” He rolled his shoulders. “It is annoying, but overall has been good for us.”

  Fifteen and Thirty-two gave him baleful stares.

  “I’m serious. It’s too early to tell but I feel that it’s increasing our strength growth rate in the physical body sense. Not to mention, it’s improving our brawling abilities faster than if we were just relying on training. I can’t wait to start going on Quests with empyreal guardsmen again for a real world scenario to really test what the Grail gave us. Until then try to think of these attacks as extra bonus training sessions.”

  “That’s not fair that you guys get to have all the fun.” Eighty turned their half-brother over and broke his nose with a lazy punch.

  “Ow! Why?”

  “Shut up, weakling!” Eighty snapped. “That’s what you get for being stupid enough to come after one of us.” She shoved him back into the grass.

  “Alright, that’s taken care of. Let’s get out of here,” Seven said. “Thirty-two, Fifteen and Sixty-eight you’ve got lessons soon. Eighty needs to go back to hers.” He plotted out a course that would allow them to go as a group with the most targeted members being dropped off at their lessons first with Eighty being the last. “I wish they’d keep our examination sessions consistent. That way we could devise a proper protection plan. Then again, this is why they don’t. We are blades being sharpened against each other. That’s what Hoplos Soborn said. So, Fifteen, they are satisfied with our current state. Do not expect changes anytime soon.”

  “Not unless we make the rewards not worth the effort,” Fifteen said. “What if we flip the spellbook upside down? What if we disrupt the lessons by putting our attackers in the doctors’ care for longer periods of time? Make the healing costs exceed the rewards of our strengthening?”

  “It’s worth exploring, but do you think our father is one that is concerned over costs? Because everything turns at his whims. And if we are the first demigods to ever drink from the Grail then I surmise that he’ll be watching us closer than anything else to see what we turn into,” Seven said.

  Sixty-eight peeked at the closest set of golden eyes atop their pillar.

  They looked right back, which was their usual state, so she couldn’t agree or disagree with Seven’s statement.

  “If he’s so interested, why hasn’t he called us up to his moon?” she muttered.

  Not that she wanted to go back up there or see him again.