Wrath of the Extra-Chapter 38: Entrance Exam XVII

Nicklas blinks as we stare at him silently.

"Is... is something the—"

"How in the Hells did you get here?" I ask, bewildered.

"I had to—" he points vaguely at the nearby underbrush. "Uh... use the bathroom."

"You went to use the bathroom miles away from Cossa’s Tower?"

Valeria cackles strangely. "The lesser survives because he’s a shy pooper! That’s fucking hilarious." It’s so funny to her that she leans over sideways against the tree, her laugh growing to an obnoxiously high volume.

"N—no...!" Nicklas gets flustered from the ’shy pooper’ accusation. "It’s just... those damn camp latrines were in an awful state—"

"Hey Cossa, you hear that?" I nudge the still-spasming man in the shin while smirking. "Your bathrooms are so awful that they made Nicklas here run a marathon."

Valeria’s cackle breaks into howling laughter, now slumping onto the ground in a fever.

"I’m not a shy pooper, damnit!" Nicklas curses. It’s too endearing of a yip to take as serious opposition. "I was... I was observing nature."

Valeria’s laugh breaks the sound barrier. I personally thought the comment was more intriguing than comical, but to each their own.

"Observed nature for miles on end?" I question.

"Yes! I like nature! And Corrupted!" Nicklas is beet red with anger. It is very laughable. "It seems you guys picked a fight. If I stayed, I’d probably get hurt like Valeria—or eliminated, or captured. Would that be better for you?"

Typically, I’d say yes, absolutely. You dying or disappearing would make me, alongside the world, better off overall.

But Nicklas is also carrying all of our supplies. So the caveat is that he needs to drop the pack before I can give a definitive and very loud ’Yes’.

"Wait," I say, expertly dodging his question. "What’d you say in that first bit?"

"What?" The pathetic writhing worm seems to cool off due to the changing subject. "That I like nature?"

"No, after that."

"You guys picked a fight?"

"No, before that, too," You braindamaged ape."

"About the Corrupted?"

"Yes, that’s it," I snap my fingers. "What the Hells are you talking about?"

"Oh, yes. I was following the trail of some Threadbacks."

"And?"

"Well, all I know is that they’re nearby. F-rank Corrupted," Nicklas says quickly, engrossing himself in his hobbies once more. "On the bark are these chewed spirals, middle of the tree, with a resin smear. They’re like dog-sized squirrels with a little white squiggle on their backs. They chew and scratch the trees to mark territory. Not to mention their droppings. There are these little black kernels with a white pinhead. They like to eat bones, so they have a lot of calcium in their diet."

Valeria sits up, wiping a tear from her eye. "So... so you left to shy poop, then went to go look at... animal poop?"

"Well... that’s a gross misrep—"

"BAHAHAHAHA!" The dam breaks, and Valeria is back to howling.

It’s gotten a little too childish for me to partake, but I can still see the merit in laughing at him.

"We’ll deal with that later. Get out the rope and tie Cossa up."

My designated rope-tyer poutily carries out my order. Rope comes out of his pack. The kid’s fingers are quick; there’s been no shortage of tying practice for him in this Exam, with the frequency with which I’ve taken prisoners.

I kneel by the now-tied-up-prisoner-but-hopeful-future-ally and push Essence into the collar. That warm and mean viscous current travels from my chest, through my arm, and into the collar.

"Clear all commands." I clear my prior commands—the source of the shock.

The collar hums. The shock dies. Cossa sags with a ragged exhale. He’s absolutely exhausted from his incessant, futile willpower usage.

Valeria snorts. "You really like that slave collar."

"Only when it’s attached to little children." Okay, that sounds bad. I meant that he’s a child—acting like a child, I mean. No, I’m not scrambling. I don’t need to explain myself. But I did anyway. Just because.

"You into that?" Valeria says all coyly. "Have some slaves back at home?"

"No."

"You strike me as the type."

"What, an upper noble?" A sick, disgusting ball of greed and perversion. A rabid dog that necessitates euthanasia.

"Your character, perhaps. And your strength. But you’ll never be actually one," she happily sneers.

I’m exactly what I hate the most. A fucking upper noble slaver. It’s perfect for the facade—a facade that continuously bleeds into my truest psyche with every passing moment.

I will die inside.

And it will be a day far closer to the present than I want to believe.

"But it’s strange," Valeria rambles on. "Your stance on slavery. Those hypotheticals seemed to be a bit personal. A bit ideologically charged, some would say."

"You called ’The Stupid Game,’" I brush her off. "Don’t try and make sense of it now. That’s why I did the talking."

Valeria gives silence; essentially her version of indifferent agreement. I’m glad she doesn’t have the true mind to pry. Leara, on the other hand, would’ve torn me apart.

I turn back to our captive, nudging him with my boot once more. "Cossa, you awake?"

"Guh..." is all I get as a reply, so I’m gonna assume an incredibly low percentage of lucidity.

"Whatever," I turn back to Nicklas. "Can you get the supplies out of the pack. Go dress Valeria’s wound."

"Oh," Nicklas replies, taken by surprise. "Dress...?"

"Clean and bandage the wound on her shoulder." How clear do I need to make it?

"I don’t... know how to do that. But I mean... I can try," he digs through our supply bag.

"Fucks sake," I snatch the supplies out of his hands as soon as he takes them out of the bag, before marching over to the slumped Valeria. Nicklas pouts a bit.

"The fuck are you doing?" Valeria hops to her feet and snarls.

"I’m gonna fix the fucking hole in your shoulder, you dullard."

"It didn’t even go through the back. I’m fine," she moves her arm to demonstrate without visible pain. There’s still some physical impairment. "Low-level magic tricks could never hurt me. I’ll sleep it off." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

You don’t ’sleep off’ a golf ball-sized hole in your anterior shoulder. Braindead. So, so braindead.

"That’s ridiculous. Strip and I’ll make it quick."

"Ugh, fine."

Fade to black. The audience never gets to see the deed. Truman Show-esque. But trust me, we got it on.