Born a Monster

Chapter 250

250 Servant of the Axe – Quest for Rice Wine

Chapter Type: Character Interaction

“No, seriously.” I said, “Too much longer and I’d have eaten these ropes.”

“I’d like to see that.” Said Huang Lan.

So, I started gnawing on the ropes; many people forget that Lacerating damage caused by saw-like motions of teeth is still Lacerating damage, the type that frays rope (among other practical uses).

“Stop that!” Kumanchu demanded, and I did.

“Why?” Huang Lan asked. “Look around you; we have plenty of rope.”

“Hm.” He took another swig on his gourd of wine. “All right, continue.”

Out of spite, I tried to NOT resume.

[Proper Titanspawn Bloodline trait not purchased. Prerequisites not unlocked. cannot be activated at this time.]

.....

Wait, now my Titanspawn bloodline, something I was born with OVER TWO YEARS AGO, had traits? Traits my System just didn’t tell me about?

Of COURSE, they were only unlocked with development points. Because, why would they be unlocked by anything else?

[Titanspawn Bloodline Traits can also be unlocked by specific Cultivation methods.]

[Madness: 1, 12/30 XP toward level 2. 12 XP available.]

[Malice: 1, 10/30 XP toward level 2. 10 XP available.]

[Rampage: 0, 2/10 XP toward level 1. 2 XP available.]

[Taint Lore: 0, 9/10 XP toward level 1. 9XP available.]

What? A quick use of math told me that was 33 points!

One section of the rope split, but I wasn’t focusing on that.

“Okay, stop that again, and don’t start while under my control.” Kumanchu said.

I tried to resist, and received that message again.

<System. Query. Titanspawn Bloodline Traits. Chain to . Start of Chain.>

[Titanspawn Bloodline Trait: Insane Will. Resolve (+1/ max 5), Sanity (-2/ min 0). Cost: 12 development points.]

Bleh. I could raise my resolve, but only at the cost of lowering my Sanity meter? I mean, yay super cheap, but no thank you. I had trouble enough with my sanity and serenity... and health.

[You have 2/40 health points.]

Yeah, I needed sleep.

Fortunately, so did my captors, who hadn’t thought to tell me...

“No running away.” Kumanchu said, “Nor any other attempts to escape. Tomorrow, we’re off in search of rice wine.”

“At least I will have a cot for myself, now, and a bedroll besides.”

“Huang Lan, it is unseemly for an ascetic monk to crave such things.”

“I am a priest! I’ve taken neither vow of poverty nor of asceticism.”

“Whoa, bad mood. Are you sure you’re getting enough rice wine in your diet?” He tilted his head back, finishing off the last of the wine we’d discovered.

“I suspect a lack of sleep.”

“Oh, well get some sleep, then. Wait, didn’t you get sleep last night?”

“Mortals sleep nightly!”

“No wonder mortals never get anything done.” Kumanchu said, promptly falling asleep.

“You are a Truthspeaker?” Huang Lan asked.

“I am. Ask me your questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”

“If I untie you, do you promise not to cause problems?”

“I promise not to attempt to escape, nor any other activity that would wake either of you.”

“Good enough.” He said, untying my wrists with ease.

Of course, nobody had forbidden me to find a new shield and a weapon or two. Or to look for healing potions (I found none), or herbs to make the same (which I did find, as part of a field pack of medicinal herbs, compounds, salves, bandages, admixtures... Someone had way too much time on their hands).

[Demigod bloodline, rank 0]

WHAT?

Seriously, WHAT?

I’d been prepared for something like a kraken or sea serpent, or maybe even another titan. But... demigod?

The gods and titans didn’t generally get along. And mom was LITERALLY titanic in size. And demigods were usually quite human in size.

I mean, dad must have... ew...

No! I was NOT losing sleep OR healing over this. I added it to the list of things I needed to learn about whenever I had spare time, and laid down to catch some sleep.

Then, I stole blankets off the cots next to mine, sandwiching myself between layers of smelly cotton and linen.

Dauria may have been an empire built on silk, but clearly they didn’t have much of that luxury here.

Odd. There hadn’t been any lack of silk inside the citadel.

I wonder... why... nope, just sleeping...

#

Huang Lan lacking proficiency, and Kumanchu lacking the opposable thumbs, I was nominated to cook breakfast.

There were no eggs, but there were oats and various meats, and vegetables, and easily sliced lemons and limes. Oh, and more dried food than we could carry.

More specifically, more than I could carry. They made me leave behind most of the medical supplies.

At the next village, which also didn’t have rice wine, Kumanchu let off a howl that would do the Fenris proud. He then chased down and killed a chicken, wrestled a fencepost out of the ground, and urinated all around the outside of the central well before calming down.

“Fu dogs are not what I had imagined.” The villiage headmistress said.

“Where is the nearest place that might make rice wine?” Huang Lan asked.

“Make would be a town three days away.”

Kumanchu ground his teeth audibly, and began pacing.

“But there is wine down that road, not even half a day’s travel away. Mama Yang’s pleasure house certainly has wine.” she added.

Kumanchu licked his lips. “Well, then we’re off that way! Hurry!”

He raced down the road as if pursuing a demon.

Huang Lan and I sighed, and then set off at the best pace we could manage.

At mid-morning, Kumanchu came racing back. “Give me the gold, old mortal.”

“Ah... no.”

“What do you mean, no? Can’t you see how I’m suffering? They have wine, they have wine, but they want useless MONEY for it.”

He capered around us, complaining, begging, pleading... yes, the ENTIRE two hours or so to pink building, streamers of pink silk blowing in the wind. The spicy smell of incense, barely covering... right. Pleasure house. Pink.

Seriously, it was smack between the citadel’s outer wall and the inmate capitol. But it was three stories tall, octagonal in shape, and the size if not the structure of a moderate fortress. It was... literally... a village dedicated to the needs of Lily Women (and Lily Men, before I forget to mention them).

But it was also a place of music and rare food, of puppet shows and dances... and of drink, which Kumanchu began draining at a pace that rivaled my ability to eat.

“Ah. Ah-hah. Yes. Yesss. More.” He was passed out before mid-afternoon.

Huang Lan and I shared a bath, which lasted long enough for our clothes to be washed, but not to dry. And then, I began setting up camp outside the fortress, fussed at by various men and women in a variety of languages.

“Oh, this is not safe, to be outside at night. Not with so many soldiers moving toward the north. Come, come, we will give you a discount on a room.”

“I am not the holder of our coins, but speak with the holy man.”

And some of them returned to say that he had agreed.

I went to check on him, found him and four others surrounding a podium, on which danced a young woman clad in silk handkerchiefs held to her body with twine. With graceful slowness, she pulled one free, and examined the stone woven into one corner of it.

“Six hundred sixty-nine.” She said, displaying the kerchief. “Six hundred sixty-nine...”

“I have that tile. Six six nine!” called one of the men.

She tossed him the kerchief, which he immediately put to his nose and smelled. Then, she resumed her slow, swaying dance.

“Huang Lan.” I said.

.....

“You are too young to be here. Go to your room. Amuse yourself with some inexpensive activity. And, I think, a pot of tea.”

Oh, okay. I guess I did have a room. I took down the partially assembled tent, and took it there.

The bed was easily large enough to host four or five of me. And yes, the smell of the thing, much as they washed and scented it, gave away EXACTLY what it was used for.

“Sir’s tea.” One of the maido said. “Will you need anything else? A story, perhaps?”

“A pot about so big, and a fire to boil a potion over. Oh, and do you offer language lessons?”

“In what language?” she asked.

“In all of those that you have teachers for.”

“Ah-ah. Young sir has a mind for jokes. Perhaps riddling as well?” She drew out a coin hidden in her robes. “I will bet that young sir is not as clever at riddling as I am.”

I was tempted to snap at her, as Huang Lan and Kumanchu did at me. But then I realized I had a better means of communicating.

“My name is Rhishisikk, and among other things, I cannot lie to you. I wish the facilities and tools to attempt the manufacture of a healing potion, and language lessons in any language in which you have tutors for. As one of warrior caste, I do not know how much money our priest has access to, please clear these expenses with him.”

And, flush with money, he paid. Quite a bit more than I would have, but I had no complaints, even if I could hear him through the walls that night.