Vigor Mortis Chapter 9: Fattening Up

Novel: Vigor Mortis Author: Thundamoo Updated:
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It ca as no surprise that training was horrible, uncomfortable, and exhausting. What did co as a surprise is how much I dreaded it because of those things.

It should be welco, right? My whole life has been horrible, exhausting, and uncomfortable! A new and exciting kind of horrible shouldnt really be that much of a turnoff, yet theres no way I could have ever done this alone. I could never have pushed myself without Lyn and Rowan barking orders at the whole ti. It would have been so easy to give up. My pathetic body can barely handle what was being thrown at it, but ntally? I was even more unprepared for this. I just wanted to collapse into a ball and go back to starving. In many ways, that was still preferable.

I had insisted that I didnt want people to give up als for , but it was definitely happening anyway and I couldnt say no. Just another weakness of character, I guess. But like I had at! at! Just bits, but I had them! at was expensive, since it had to be treated with biomancy to ensure it was safe. I still couldnt believe I was getting any. It was such a waste; I was still tiny, I was still weak. After years and years of malnourishnt, that might not ever change. Yet over the course of a few weeks, my als kept getting bigger and better. Rowan had to be taking on a lot more debt to afford it. I knew that. I hated it. I didnt deserve it. It all tasted so good, but it felt so oddly awful for sothing so happy.

Theres talent and then theres talent, kiddo, Lyn had said. As long as you survive, as long as you get stronger, it will be worth it. You make good on your plan, okay?

I couldnt protest that. It hurt too much to try.

It didnt feel like the physical training was getting stronger, though. I knew it was, I didnt doubt Rowan and Lyn, but to ? It just hurt. Pushups. Situps. Jogs. Constant physical pain. At least I was starting to look less like a skeleton. Every once in a while Id poke at myself when no one was watching, grinning giddily from the simple joy of feeling sothing besides tendons and bone. Rowan told the strength of my soul was helping to grow my body into a healthier state, now that I was eating the physical mass to make it possible. Body and soul worked hand-in-hand, he said. When one was weaker, the other helped make it stronger. I asked how that applied to undead. He gave a look and said he didnt know.

While my physical diet was much improved, I couldnt help but notice I looked forward to the soul diet just as much. It was mostly rat souls; Rowan paid the kids to help catch live rats for . I ended up being given a big bucket of the squirmy little things every day or two, letting indulge in a delicious, otherworldly cacophony of flavor. Reaching a gloved hand into the bucket, I could tear out whole handfuls of souls at once, slurping them like so kind of queen indulging in a bowl of grapes. Rat souls werent very large, but I was surprised how varied they were. So rats had larger souls than others. So rats were brighter, so were darker. They had all sorts of different colors and textures. They werent like human souls, not quite. But there was just enough individuality to them to make wonder.

Id repay the favor. I had to, now.

The non-physical side of training was much more fun. I finally got the hang of sensing souls from a distance, and it was wow. The first ti I sensed Rowans soul from across the room I cheered. That range just kept growing, though. A room. A house. A city block. More and more and more life started to pop into my senses, every color and sound and taste and feel imaginable. The souls were not truly any of those things; they had no flavor and they shed no light, but it was the only way I could understand them. The sense was new. It was hearing for the first ti, feeling for the first ti, seeing for the first ti all in one. An incredible amount of information was flowing into at once, endless lives moving around in a dazzling swarm, each one beautiful and unique. After a while, my detection range stopped growing but it was a pretty damn long range.

Ironically, Rowan was actually way more help with figuring out my soul sense than Lyn was. Almost all of Lyns training was on how to fight. It took a while to figure out sothing that clicked with , but after nurous struggles I eventually settled on a wood-and-chitin spear Lyn managed to pick up sowhere. Lyn made promise to warm up with spear drills every day, so that's what Ive been doing, but Im not great with it.

Months pass with my new routine, and eventually cos the work I know will be far, far more difficult, not to ntion deadly. Today's the day. I have a fresh, nasty-slling set of armor. I have a spear. I have a valuable skill for hunter teams that could be passed off as sothing other than heresy. Just keep looking forward. I can do this. I have to do this.

The hunter's guild building looks like a relatively modest place from the outside, but it doesnt require advertising. If you want to leave the city walls, you need the hunters guild, or else gamble with the plethora of unregulated rcenary teams that were the only alternative. The guild has a reputation for excellence; people still die on outings more often than not, but they die less often when theyre with hunters. The inside isnt much more interesting: a few tables, a desk, a receptionist. All the important stuff is through the doors behind her.

So of the souls past those doors are very strong.

"Um, I have an appointnt today," I murmur to the woman behind the desk, standing up as straight as I can. The counter nearly cos up to my neck!

"Mmm," she says noncommittally. "Na?"

"Vita, ma'am."

"Don't have a 'Fitamam, kid."

I blink.

"No, um. My na is Vita."

"Ah. Yeah. Mkay, sit down, I'll let Remus know you're here."

I have way too much anxiety to sit down, so I pace instead. It would have seed like a waste of energy before, but now I can afford it. Better to keep moving and keep building up my stamina. After all

"You look like you'll die before I even send you after a monster," a scarred old man grunts, opening one of the doors from deeper within.

He's strong, real strong. One of the strongest Ive ever felt. His soul is hard and cool, like running my hand over a stone at night. Its much, much bigger than Lyn's. Heavy burns marr the left side of his face, preventing him from showing more than half an expression. His greying hair batrays quite a bit of age, but his skin is pulled tight over a rippling fra of muscle. He wears armor made of massive scales, unlike anything Ive seen up close before.

"How old are you, anyway? Twelve?" he grunts.

"I-I'm sixteen, sir," I stamr out, standing at attention as best I can.

"'Course you are," he grunts noncommittally, looking over with a critical eye. "Mmm. Fine. Co with ."

Unable to suppress a bit of a scowl at that comnt, I follow him through the doors, down a hall, and eventually into a large, enclosed courtyard. Geez, his soul was neat. Wait, no, dont imagine eating him!

"Ti for your interview," he says flatly. "First question, kid: what gave you the dumbfuck idea that being a hunter was anything other than a job for suicidal idiots?"

How direct. Im not quite sure how to respond to that, but I doubt stopping to think about it is a good idea. Thankfully, an answer cos to mind.

"People die, sir," I tell him.

"No shit," he responds blandly.

"No, I an... people die in and out of the walls. They die from age or murder or stupidity. I'm going to die no matter what. I just want to make sure I lived doing sothing I can be proud of."

He sneers.

"You think mucking around in blood and guts and monster shit is sothing to be proud of?"

"M-maybe not always, sir. But it looked like I was probably gonna have to kill things to stay alive, sir. I decided I wanted those things to be monsters."

He frowns, looking a lot more carefully at that. Shit, that was more honest than I had intended. Maybe that was too much info? He just lets it slide, thankfully.

"Have you ever been outside the walls, kid? Have you ever seen a monster?"

Well its not like I own a mirror, so...

"No, sir. Born and raised in the city, sir. I recognize I don't know a lot."

"Yeah, I fucking know you don't know a lot, you worthless sli. What are you going to do when a twenty-ton lizard decides it wants you for a snack?"

I blink.

"Well, I suppose I would try to run towards sothing slower than , sir."

He stares.

"And leave your team to die?"

"If I have a team and I'm not the one slowing them down, I suppose I'd do what I can, sir. But if my team is fighting sothing way above our ability to take down and presumably a team with on it isn't being sent out to fight twenty-ton lizards on purpose we'd want to distract and disengage, right?"

He stares intently, giving no indication whether that was right or wrong.

"Next question, then. Why would a team want you? What do you offer the Hunter's Guild?"

Oh boy. Here was the big one.

"I'm a natural scout, sir. I can sense living things from extrely far away."

That got a reaction. His expression turned intense.

"Oh? How far?"

"About two hundred ters, sir."

"Hmm... better than most. How accurate?"

"Very accurate. I'm also unaffected by obstructions."

He raises his one eyebrow.

"How many people are in this building?"

"Um..."

I start to count as quickly as I can, mouthing the numbers to myself. Didnt realize speed-math was going to be part of hunter training.

"...Thirty-two. And, um, twenty-four things that aren't people. Not counting... cats, rats, bugs. I could count those all day, sir."

He frowns, humming in consideration.

"...Anything else you can do?"

What, he wants more? Im pretty much relying on the scout thing! Panic kicks in, and I let my mouth say the first thing that cos to mind.

"I also make a good mascot, sir," I say, as flatly as I can muster. Im very small.

He stares at . I stare back at him, refusing to blink or make any kind of expression. Then, faster than I can react, he kicks in the stomach, sending sprawling in a heap onto the yard.

"You can just say 'no' next ti," he grunts. "Ti for the combat test."

"So I" I cough, hacking out a bit of bile. "So I noticed."

"Monsters aren't going to appreciate your banter, kid. Stand up and try to hit ."

Refusing to let out a groan of pain, I draw my spear off my back, standing up into the battle stance Lyn taught . He just stands there like the arrogant, cheap-shotting prick he is... although I suppose it cant be that much arrogance when he's very obviously way stronger than .

Approaching cautiously, I use a trick Lyn taught : jabbing at his stomach, then moving the arc of the swing down towards his back leg, trying to catch him as he retreats. Unfortunately, he's just too damn fast, avoiding the attack effortlessly before striking out with a punch to my face. I fail to dodge, but manage to at least avoid collapsing to the ground.

"Good," he says, despite my rapidly-swelling face. "Feints are strong against smaller monsters. Just don't try it on any monster large enough to not fear you. Again."

I attack again, pretending to use the sa trick but actually following up the jab to the stomach. Another dodge and a kick to my chest is all I get for my trouble. Fucking hell, he got right in the damn nipple! That has been hurting a lot lately, for so reason. With sheer force of will, I don't yelp in pain.

Over and over, I take a blow whenever I try to give one. Over and over, I get the sa response: "Again." Damnit, Im really starting to hate this man. Yet I keep fighting. What else can I do? Hes demanding it, and I need this. I need the Hunter's Guild. Besides, it's not like I havent had worse beatings.

An hour passes. Two hours. Again and again, I am thrashed into the dirt. Panting, wheezing, I keep going. I keep trying. Yet not even once do I land a hit on the man. An eternity later, a blow to my stomach knocks down cold. I can barely even breathe anymore, trying to stand but lacking the strength. I have to though! I have to! Slowly, I try to struggle into a sitting position... and that damn bastard walks over and puts a foot on my chest, slamming back into the ground. Pain screams through .

"Your stamina leaves much to be desired, and you're a complete novice in combat," he says blandly.

I punch him in the leg. He kicks in the face. Seeing stars, all I can think about is how much I want to kill this man.

"Your fundantals aren't bad, but you clearly have no experience using them. You're a pathetic fighter."

I grab his boot, snarling. He'll see how much of a pathetic fighter I am when I eat his fucking

A whip of his foot, and Im sent flying across the courtyard. I tumble through the grass, battered, bruised, and bloody.

"If you want to get beaten worse than this every day, you're hired," he says.

Then he turns and walks out of the courtyard. Fuck. Fuck, I I need this. I dont have any other options.

"What ti... should I co back... tomorrow?" I manage to choke out.

He pauses, looking back at for a mont. I think... the half of his face that moves is smiling a bit.

"For now, I would suggest not leaving," he says.

I try to nod, but it hurts too much. I pass out instead, blissful sleep taking .

I dream of holding his soul in my hands.

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