NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 14: Choosing Battles
Elliot woke with a groan, the cobblestones beneath him cold and unyielding. His body was sore, but the fight with Gorrik had left him alive and, in a strange way, invigorated. He had expected the confrontation to be brutal, and it had been, but it had also provided him with something invaluable—knowledge. Knowledge about his limits, his skills, and the ways he could use his abilities to survive in this world.
Gorrik sat nearby, fiddling with something in his hand. His eyes flicked over to Elliot with a smirk that suggested the older man was amused by something. Maybe it was Elliot's resilience. Maybe it was the look of grim determination that had crossed his face during their duel. Either way, it didn't matter much. Gorrik's smirk seemed more of a challenge than anything else.
"Still breathing," Gorrik remarked with a smirk.
Elliot forced a laugh, though it turned into a wince as his ribs protested the movement. "I didn't think it'd be otherwise."
Gorrik chuckled darkly but didn't respond. Instead, he held out his hand expectantly. Elliot fished out a pouch of coins from his pocket and tossed it over. Gorrik caught it with ease. He gave the pouch a casual shake, listening to the sound of the coins rattling inside.
"Twenty pounds, as agreed." Gorrik's voice was steady, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—respect? Amusement? It was hard to say.
"Fair deal," Gorrik continued after a pause. "You've got potential, kid. If you keep at it, you might just make a name for yourself."
Elliot couldn't help but chuckle dryly, though the pain in his chest made the sound raspier than he intended. "High praise coming from you," he said, pushing himself up, taking a moment to breathe deeply and steady his shaking legs. The fight had taken more out of him than he was willing to admit.
Standing, Gorrik stretched, his joints cracking audibly. He brushed down his clothes, shaking off the dust of their fight, as though nothing had happened at all. His movements were smooth, practiced. He was an expert, and it was clear that Elliot had barely scratched the surface of what it meant to be in this world.
"You want advice?" Gorrik asked, as if he was about to impart some kind of sage wisdom. "Go back to the The Huntsman's Rest where you posted your sparring request. They always have work for people with your... talents. Word's already spreading about you. Oh, and if you choose this life, get some weapons and armor. You'll need it."
Elliot nodded, mentally taking note of Gorrik's words. He had a lot to process, but something about the older man's tone made it clear that this was just the beginning. He could already feel the weight of what lay ahead.
Gorrik turned and walked off without another word, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the street. Elliot stood for a moment longer, staring after him, before he glanced down at his hands. They were trembling slightly, but it was a tremor of anticipation. He hadn't come this far just to turn back now.
With a final sigh, he turned on his heel and made his way to the tavern.
___________________________
The tavern was as Elliot remembered it—dimly lit, filled with the scent of cheap ale and tobacco. The heavy atmosphere buzzed with hushed conversations, and the board where he'd posted his sparring notice was now brimming with new requests.
One notice caught his eye:
"Scout Needed: Suspicious Activity at Night Factory. Reward: Negotiable."
Elliot considered the job, his fingers brushing the edge of the notice. Scouting seemed like a manageable task. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that everything in this world was as simple as it seemed, but it didn't look like it would be too dangerous, not like the fight with Gorrik had been. But as he contemplated, the edges of his vision shimmered, and text scrawled itself into the air before him.
___________________________
NEW QUEST: Shadows of the Night
Survive a night at the factory.
Reward: +500 Energy, +100 Health, +100 Stamina, +25 Free Attributes, +10 Levels
Failure Penalty: Death
Do you accept this quest?
[ACCEPT] [DECLINE]
___________________________
Elliot's breath caught as the quest description chilled him to the bone.
The quest is just about surviving the night? And failure means death?
That was a harsh penalty and a far to simple objective for something that seemed like an easy scouting mission. He immediately realized the system could be used to gauge the true difficulty of a task. A survival mission with stakes that high was well beyond his current ability.
I'm not stupid enough to take that on. Not yet.
Shaking his head, he dismissed the idea of the factory job entirely and declined the quest.
Maybe the barkeep has a recommendation for a mission I can handle.
The barkeep noticed him as he approached, a knowing look crossing his scarred face. "You're back," he said, pouring a drink for a patron. "Heard about you from Gorrik. Says you've got some skill. Interested in putting it to use?"
Elliot nodded. "Depends on the job."
The barkeep leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. "Got something for you, if you're feeling brave. There's been talk of strange happenings at an old hospital on the edge of town—St. Rauth's. Used to be a place for treating the poor, but it's been abandoned for years. Now, people say there are... things inside. No one knows what's going on, but anyone who goes in doesn't come out the same. If they come out at all."
Elliot frowned. "And you want me to check it out?"
"I don't want anything," the barkeep replied with a shrug. "But there's a hundred-pound reward for anyone who can figure out what's happening in there and put a stop to it. It's posted on the board, but not many are fool enough to take it."
Elliot's eyes drifted to the notice the barkeep had pointed out. The words were simple but ominous:
"Investigation Needed: St. Rauth's Hospital. Reports of unusual activity. Danger likely. Reward: 100 pounds. Inquire for details."
Elliot frowned, his thoughts racing. His Arcanist potion had been only partially digested, and he knew that without a deeper understanding of its principles, his sequence would stagnate. This could be his chance to better understand what it meant to be an Arcanist and gain some much-needed combat experience, both of which were crucial for survival in this crazy world.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the edges of his vision shimmered, and a new quest appeared before him:
___________________________
NEW QUEST: Diseased Hospital
Cleanse the hospital of an Outer Deity's corruption.
Reward: Skill Essence Reclamation, +30 Energy, +10 Stamina, +2 Level
Failure Penalty: -30 Stamina
Do you accept this quest?
[ACCEPT] [DECLINE]
___________________________
Elliot's stomach tightened at the quest description.
An Outer Deity's corruption?
That was far beyond anything he'd faced before. But the rewards suggested it was within reach, and the failure penalty wasn't catastrophic. If the system believed he could handle it, then maybe he could.
I can't afford to fail... I have to do this.
"I'll take it," he said, his voice firm.
The barkeep smirked. "Good luck. You'll need it."
Before Elliot could turn away, something nudged at the back of his mind. "Hey, where can I get my hands on some armor and weapons?" he asked, realizing he'd be ill-prepared for what lay ahead without them.
The barkeep nodded knowingly. "Head to the smithy by the old market square. They'll get you geared up. But be ready to spend a bit—quality armor and weapons don't come cheap."
Elliot thanked him, pocketed the details, and turned toward the exit.
___________________________
St. Rauth's Hospital loomed in the night, its once-grand facade now a crumbling ruin. Vines snaked up its walls, and the broken windows gaped like empty eye sockets. A faint, rancid stench seeped from within.
Inside, shadows twisted along the peeling walls and rusted gurneys. A drunken man stumbled through the corridors, muttering incoherently.
"Just... just need a place to sleep," he slurred, his steps unsteady.
As he wandered deeper, the air thickened with a cloying heat. The man scratched at his arm absently, then winced. His skin was blotchy, mottled with strange discolorations.
"Wh-what is this?" he mumbled, panic rising in his voice.
The itching turned into an unbearable burning, and the man tore at his clothes, revealing blisters that oozed foul-smelling pus. His screams echoed through the empty halls as his body contorted, limbs dissolving into a sickening mass of flesh and ichor.
Moments later, silence fell. Where the man had stood, there was now only a grotesque pile of oozing tissue, the last vestiges of his humanity lost to the corruption.
___________________________
Standing outside the tavern, Elliot stared at the address scrawled on the notice. His grip tightened as he thought about the challenges ahead.
This is it. I'm walking into the unknown now.
He knew the risks, but there was no turning back. Survival meant growth, and growth meant facing the darkness head-on.
He set off toward the hospital, unaware of the horrors that awaited. The night seemed darker than before, the shadows deeper. Somewhere far off, a faint, wet sound echoed—just the beginning of the horrors that lay ahead.