Victor of Tucson Book 8: Chapter 16: - Worthy Fights

It was well into the evening before Victor and Lam returned to Dar’s lake house. Victor hadn’t intended to be out so late, but they’d spent hours at a tailor Tria had recomnded. Victor had been focused on buying a single, good shirt that could change its color with a gentle nudge of Energy into a stitched rune pattern, but Lam had spent a lot more ti shopping, buying half a dozen garnts. Victor would be hard-pressed to describe any of them; he’d gotten his shirt and then waited outside, watching the people of Sojourn while she shopped.

After she was done, they’d stopped by Tria’s shop again so Victor could give her the shirt and his wyrm-scale armor to enchant, which she promised to have ready first thing in the morning. Victor was a little leery about leaving the armor, not because he worried Tria would steal it, but because it bore special aning to him. It was priceless because Tes had crafted it for him, and she’d literally put her blood into it. He resolved to wake up at dawn and wait outside for Tria’s shop to open in the morning.

Of course, they hadn’t been done even after dropping off Victor’s armor. Lam, brimming with excitent about the upcoming dinner party, had wanted to buy so fancy stationery for their invitations. This led to a lively discussion about how they had no idea how to address or deliver them. When Lam ntioned the problem to Mr. Qwor upon their arrival at the house, the coach driver had the answer. Apparently, Dar’s staff at the lake house was managed by a man nad Mr. Ruln, who acted as the household steward. Mr. Qwor said Mr. Ruln would “be happy to see the invitations delivered.”

Walking down the cobbled path from the coach house to the front door, Victor's curiosity was piqued. “I wonder if I’ve t Mr. Ruln. I need to start paying attention to people’s nas,” he mused aloud.

“It’s not like they go around introducing themselves,” Lam replied, nodding toward the servant, who was standing ready to open the door for them as they approached. When they reached the stoop, she said, “Excuse , will you please let Mr. Ruln know that I’d like to speak to him when he has a minute?”

“Of course, ma’am.” He turned to Victor and added, “Sir, your other guests await you in the central parlor.”

“Thanks.” Victor nodded and stepped into the ho, leading the way back to the large sitting area that adjoined the outside deck. Darren and Edeya sat together on one of the couches, both reading. Edeya’s nose was buried in a thick, leather-bound to, and Darren was flipping through one of the crystal guidebook tablets.

Darren didn’t notice them and spoke almost idly as they approached, “Yeah, I’m not finding anything on that dungeon Trin ntioned. Either it’s too exclusive to be in the guidebook, or she was making the whole thing up.”

“Mrs. Woy said there was a lot about Sojourn you won’t find in that guidebook,” Edeya sighed, idly rubbing at sothing on her chin. She glanced toward Darren, caught sight of Lam and Victor standing there, and leaped to her feet. “You’re back!’

“Hey.” Victor walked over as Lam hurried to sit beside Edeya. “Who’s Mrs. Woy?”

“One of your, um, ntor’s staff. She made us dinner.”

“We missed dinner?” Lam’s voice rose in a near whine. Victor chuckled, shaking his head. Though he felt like he could eat, he wasn’t hungry. How would he feel if he were only level ten with a fraction of the Energy coursing through his body’s cells, though?

“I’m sure they’ll fix you sothing—” he started to say, but Edeya was already producing plates of steaming food from her storage ring, arranging them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“I saved you plenty.”

Lam grabbed a hot, buttered roll and started eating. Victor chuckled and shook his head. “I’m going to go to my room and eat sothing else.” Everyone, even Darren, stopped what they were doing and looked at him strangely. He shrugged. “I’ve got a monster’s heart I want to consu, and the damn thing is massive.”

Darren blanched a little and looked at Edeya. “I thought you were teasing .”

“I told you!”

“Anyway,” Victor groaned, starting for the hallway leading to the bedrooms, “I’m going to write a note to Valla, too. I’ve got an early start tomorrow, so goodnight.”

“Night!” Edeya chirped.

Lam cleared her throat, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and said, “I know you want to retire, Victor, but when can we talk about more spell patterns?”

“Ah, shit.” Victor paused near the hallway. “Tomorrow, when I return from picking up my armor. Promise. Oh!” He fished through his storage ring for the spell pattern he’d purchased for Edeya. “This is for you.” He tossed it to her and winked. “Lam has one for Darren.”

“Thank you!” Edeya cried, snatching the rolled-up parchnt from the air.

Lam t his eyes and gave him a quick nod. “See you tomorrow, then, Victor. Thank you for everything.” She didn’t wait for a reply, turning to watch as Edeya scrambled to unwind the scroll.

Victor watched them for a mont, then left. He was halfway down the hallway when his excellent Quinatzin ears picked up Darren’s hushed whisper. “Is he angry?”

“No, dummy,” Edeya laughed. “I think he’s probably missing Valla.”

Victor sighed and went into his room, locking the door behind him. Edeya was right on target. He felt like it had been months, not just a bit less than a week, since he’d seen Valla, and he was missing her. He sat on the side of the bed and opened the Farscribe book he shared with her. Nothing had been added since her last short ssage earlier that morning. He looked over the words again, frowning, wondering if there was sothing to them other than their face value.

She said all was well, but they were exhausted, and more battles awaited after their rest. That was normal, wasn’t it? They were in a dungeon, after all. She said Lesh was snoring, so things couldn’t be that dire. He shook his head, forcing himself to stop worrying, to stop imagining nightmare scenarios that weren’t at all likely. Instead, he drew a line and wrote a ssage:

I miss you, Valla. I hate that we aren’t together, and I hope you’ll be ho soon. I hate the circumstances that keep us apart, but, on the other hand, this ti away makes appreciate you more. It makes realize how damn lucky I am. Let's do sothing together, just the two of us, when you’re back. I’ll be waiting for you.

Victor paused, tapping the pen on his chin while he thought, imagining Dar or the Sojourn city council sending him to complete so quest or task before he got to wrap Valla in his arms again. Grinning fiercely, he added:

If soone tries to stop from welcoming you ho, I’m going to fight them. I don’t care. I really don’t.

I Love you,

Victor

He put the book away, then stood up, moving to a large open section between his door and the foot of his bed. He almost summoned the gargantuopod heart from his storage bag but stopped, thinking things over. What if sothing crazy happened? What if he started bursting with flas like when he’d eaten the wyrm’s heart? He doubted that would happen, but sothing might. Did he want to risk Dar’s house? His decision made, he walked into the hallway and, rather than turning right and going back the way he’d co, he walked the other way.

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There was a small library at the end of the hall, just before the big double doors leading to Dar’s suite. He headed that way because the library also opened onto a small deck connected via a wooden walkway to the main one. Victor hoped to make his way down to the lake without being noticed; he didn’t want to explain his actions or risk getting waylaid by a side conversation. A few minutes later, having succeeded in avoiding everyone except for a single mber of the house staff tidying the main deck, he padded down the steps to the long, starlit pier.

The lake was placid and beautiful at night, as it usually was. Its dark, deep waters reflected the stars, making Victor feel like he was standing on a wooden platform floating in space. He moved to the very end of the pier and stripped off most of his clothes. The air was a little chilly, but Victor was always warm, and he figured it would be nice to jump into the water when he was done with his task.

He took a deep breath and cast Iron Berserk; there was no way he was going to try to consu the gargantuopod heart without the size boost of the spell. As the power of rage-attuned Energy flooded his body, tinting his vision with crimson, he stood there basking in the furnace of his heart, the cool night air a profound contrast to the heat radiating from his flesh. He reached into the storage pouch hanging from his belt and summoned out the enormous, still-bloody heart. It stead in the night air, and the hot blood dripping from the great, severed arteries sizzled on the decking, splashing onto his bare toes.

Even standing twenty feet tall, with hands the size of serving platters, the heart was enormous. Eating such a great organ would take ti and effort, but Victor’s mouth salivated at the idea. Another reason he wanted to be in his full titanic form was that more than his size changed with the transformation. Instincts that were becoming ordinary for him in his usual state were far more profound in his rage-engorged body; he hungered for the flesh of the organ in his mighty hands. He yearned to bite into it. He wanted to taste that hot blood and chew the tough flesh. He yearned to swallow it and let his body sift through it for the secrets of his fallen foe’s strength.

Grinning madly, he gave in to his instincts and took a massive bite, his great Quinatzin teeth slicing the powerful flesh with ease. After that first coppery, tangy bite, there was no stopping him. He lost himself to the feast, gorging himself, bite after bite. He could feel the Energy buried in the at of the heart in his stomach, churning and gathering. Despite the size of the organ, despite the need to take bloody bite after bloody bite, he never felt full, never felt like stopping. He couldn’t have if he’d wanted to—the gathering Energy was like the pleasure of a scratched itch, and each bite brought the taphorical fingernails closer to the perfect spot.

Even when he swallowed the last morsel, he lifted his hands and licked the bloody remnants from his palms and wrists. As he did so, he felt the ball of Energy in his gut begin to expand like a slow-motion explosion. It spread through his body, a wave of ecstasy that ignited the dense, potent molecules that made up his Quinatzin anatomy. A tiny voice in his mind wondered at that; if he hadn’t been so thoroughly Quinatzin, if he’d failed to advance his titanic race so far, would the heart have affected him differently? Would it have burned his flesh rather than refined it?

The tiny voice was banished as the wave of Energy reached his mind and all thoughts were blown from his consciousness. Victor arched his back, and while the pulsing Energy of his mighty, vanquished foe coursed through him, he roared his triumph to the stars.

#

Lam was licking sticky honey from her fingers, and a mber of the kitchen staff was taking away dirty plates when Darren looked up from his tablet and pointed to the windows facing the deck and the lake beyond. “Is it getting brighter out there?”

Lam stood and turned, looking over the back of the couch to where he’d pointed. Sure enough, a bright glow was starting to illuminate the darkness, and it seed to be coming from the lake. She looked at Edeya, who’d stood to look with her. “You don’t think anyone would attack Dar’s ho, do you?”

“I hope not! That’s definitely Energy, though!” Edeya spun toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “We should get Victor.”

The servant, Mrs. Woy, Lam had learned, cleared her throat and said, “Nothing to be alard about. Lord Dar warned the staff to stay inside; he and his student are working on sothing by the lake.”

“Dar’s here?” Lam asked, noting the brightness was still growing. It almost looked like a false sunrise.

“Yes, Lord Dar arrived at dinner ti but has been in his quarters. His warning ca just monts ago. At his bidding, I was just about to advise you all to stay inside.”

Lam nodded to the woman and then walked around the couch to press her forehead against the glass. That’s when the ground trembled, and a roar shook the night, rattling the glass and vibrating the curios in their cabinets.

“What the hell?” Darren cried, scrambling off the couch and ducking down with a wide stance as though an earthquake were imminent.

“Is that?” Edeya asked with wide eyes, her voice hushed.

“Victor.” Lam nodded. The roar was deep and animalistic, like sothing from the mouth of a great monster, but it had a certain familiar note that brought back mories of battlefields back on Fanwath. She’d seen and heard Victor roar into the night in triumph too many tis not to recognize his voice, even though it was louder and deeper than ever.

“That’s Victor?” Darren hissed. He hurried closer to the two of them and then, surprising them both, nodded. “I’m not surprised, I suppose. I heard him screaming like that when he destroyed my war machines in First Landing. Well, not quite like that, but he was further away . . .” As his words trailed off, so did the roaring, and the light began to dim. “What was he yelling about? Is he angry? Is he battling sothing?”

In the sudden stillness and absence of light, Lam shook her head, chuckling. “No, that sounded more like victory to . He must have liked the heart.”

#

When Victor ca back to himself, he was floating on his back in the lake, a good fifty yards from the pier. He was imdiately aware of two things—one, he had so System ssages clouding his vision, and two, he felt amazing. Grinning, wanting to laugh at his circumstances, he quickly read through the notifications:

***Congratulations! You have advanced your Quinatzin Bloodline: Epic 2.***

***Congratulations! You have earned a new Feat: Behemoth’s Regeneration.***

***Behemoth’s Regeneration: You have gained the uncanny resilience of a behemoth. Given enough ti, your flesh will recover from even the most grievous wounds. This ability will complent and magnify similar benefits gained from other sources.***

Victor, for once, was stupefied, unable to say anything, even “huh” or “cool.” He just stretched out on his back, floating in the cool water, staring up at the stars and smiling in wonder. He knew all about regeneration; his berserking abilities granted it to him, at least a limited form of rapid healing. This felt different, however. It sounded like he could regenerate all the ti now, and it might extend beyond rapid healing. It might be genuine regeneration—like, he might be able to grow back limbs.

A tiny part of him, so remnant from his old, human-boy self that grew up in Tucson, was freaked out. It felt like he was moving further and further away from that seed of himself. He wasn’t just a human with “titan blood” anymore. He was entirely Quinatzin. He’d accepted that. Now, though, he’d absorbed so part of that giant, pinché monster from the dungeon. Was he straying away from his bloodline? Was he less Quinatzin now?

That couldn’t be, could it? Hadn’t the heart also boosted his Quinatzin bloodline? After all, the whole reason he could steal the gargantuopod’s ability was because he was Quinatzin. His further thoughts were interrupted by a deep, rumbling voice.

“Sothing troubling you, lad?” Dar asked.

Victor straightened, switching from a back float to water-treading, and turned toward the pier. Dar sat there, his bulky, dark form like a hulking shadow with blazing eyes. “Hello, sir. I didn’t realize you were here.”

“A dozen creatures like the one you ripped that heart from could have approached unnoticed during the din you stirred up.” He chuckled and moved away from his original question, letting Victor off the hook at least montarily. “I’ve been eager to watch you go through that process. My eyes see much; would you like to hear my thoughts?”

Victor nodded, knowing the man could see him clearly despite the dark. Even so, he added words to the gesture, “I would.”

“Your bloodline is incredibly potent. You know this, of course, but I don’t think you quite understand the scope. The ability to gain strength from your foes—that ritual you just completed—is sothing I’ve never seen before, not on that scale. I saw your body harness the Energy of that gargantuopod. You ripped it apart on a cellular level, subsuming so essential part of it—so piece of its bloodline. More than that, a piece of the creature’s spirit lingered in that dead heart! How that’s possible, I’m not sure. It must have sothing to do with you taking it from the corpse; it must be part of the ritual whether you realize it or not.”

“Ritual?” Victor frowned. “I don’t do any kind of ritual—”

“Hah! Says the man who rips the hot hearts from his foes and eats them bloody and raw. It’s a ritual whether you label it so or not.” Dar waved a hand in the air. “That’s not important, in any case. I could do the sa thing but wouldn’t gain what you do. All I’d get is a raw, rather under-seasoned al. Well? What did you gain? Shall I guess?”

“I don’t mind telling you—”

“So advancent to your bloodline? So Energy for your Core? Or sothing more? That was quite a flare of Energy that tore through your body.”

“My bloodline advanced, and maybe my Core got so Energy, but it didn’t advance. I, uh, gained a new feat, though.”

Dar leaned forward, and his eyes flared brighter. “Is that common? What feat?”

“It’s not all that common, though I have gained sothing unique from most of the more powerful hearts I’ve eaten.”

“And this one?”

Victor tried to shrug, which was not a natural movent while treading water, and said, “I gained regeneration.” The Spirit Master grew quiet and leaned back, staring at the stars.

“Dead gods, lad. This changes things. Such an ability . . .” He let his voice trail off, and Victor floated for a few monts while Dar stared at the stars. “There are those who would do terrible, terrible things to gain that ability. We must keep the nature of your ability a secret. It would be one thing if all you gained from a heart was so Energy—a bit of a cheat on cultivation. Absorbing aspects of other bloodlines, though—wars have been fought for less.”

Victor stared at the man who was ant to be his ntor and couldn’t help the dark thoughts that nibbled at his mind. Could he trust him? Was he, even now, trying to plot a way to steal Victor’s bloodline? If the Warlord of Coloss knew a way to do so, surely the great powers of Sojourn knew of thods. Dar chuckled, a deep grating sound like wet stones sliding against each other. “Relax, Victor. I take my role as your ntor very seriously. It weighs on . Knowing your secret, protecting it and you, will do much for my karmic balance sheet.”

“I’d feel better if you, you know, wanted to.”

“Hah! Of course I do! Fear not, lad. Having a desire to build karma in my favor only helps tune out the dark whispers everyone hears occasionally. My waking mind is set on teaching you, fostering your spirit, and building you into a true conqueror.”

“Conqueror?”

Dar leaned forward and growled, his voice carrying sharply over the still water, “Of course! Did you not co to with such desires? I recall tales of a warlord who needed slaying, an undead world that needed to feel the fire of your wrath, and a certain history of righting injustices. Do those things no longer appeal to the rage burning in your heart?”

Victor felt chills on his spine and a growl building in his chest as he answered, through a throat thick with emotion, “Yes!”

“Good. It’s clear to that your ancestors were a potent people, and I’m not surprised they moved beyond this realm. You should be proud to carry their bloodline, proud to remind this universe of who they were. If hearts can advance your power so, then you should claim more. We need to pick so worthy fights for you.”