ABH - CH 34 - Flours For The Deceased

A/N: We are finally over halfway to my goal of 21 chapters ahead on patreon---that means we're 11 chapters ahead here!!!! enjoyyyyy

Chapter Thirty-Four

Flours For The Deceased

Rise of Winter, Week 5, Day 4

Sweat. When Freddie came out of her rage, that was the first thing she noticed. She was sweaty. The fire encasing her fists made her feel hot. 

It was an odd sensation, and it wasn’t the first time she’d felt a disconnect between the Freddie of here and now and the Freddie of then. It never really felt as if the old Freddie had died. All her memories were intact, and they were a part of the new Freddie as much as Kalina was. But getting sweaty?

It brought Freddie back to that void, where a Goddess had sent her onward. Where a new life had begun. Fredericka Nemo, Heir to Nemo, did not have a soul rune that allowed her to be impervious to flames.

That was to say, the heat was something that shouldn’t have been. It was something Freddie, as Kalina, had never been bothered by. And maybe, by virtue of arriving in Winter, it was to be expected that it was a rare occurrence. Heat was—at its nature—fire. And Kalina’s soul rune made her immune to such things. 

Ah, I forgot, Freddie sighed to herself, wiping dark black blood off her face before surveying her surroundings. Kalina is dead.

Around her, there were five goblins. No—five goblin corpses. The Purple Goblin was still lying in the hall, singed holes in its abdomen that revealed the black insides of the monster. It had put up the most fight, but ultimately it was a ranger, not a close combatant. At Freddie’s feet, there were the four Red Goblins in varying states of destruction. They had all wielded daggers. Freddie had shoved one such dagger into a goblin’s eye. She had felt that an appropriate place for a sheath. 

It was a gruesome affair, plucking out their mana pearls. But it had to be done. So, without dismissing her flames, Freddie placed her palm where she knew the pearls would be—near to the center of the chest, almost by the heart. As flesh and muscle melted at her touch, she gripped the pearls, one after another. Blasting them with cleansing fire, Freddie looked down at the five pearls, her eyes sagging. 

“Gods, I’m tired,” Freddie said, a whine to her voice she usually wouldn’t allow herself to verbalize. 

But here? In this dungeon? There was no one to hear her. No one to be strong in front of. No one to hide from. Here, she could whine and moan all she wanted—so long as she stayed alive to do so. 

Freddie knew, if she wanted to rest, there was no way she could leave the stinking, rotting corpses around her. She needed clean air. She needed somewhere she could feel safe, if even for a moment. 

She could go back to the storeroom, where there was a single entry, and rest in the corner. But, then, there was no telling what dangers lurked in the dungeon. No telling what would happen if she stopped her progress. Besides, a bell hadn’t chimed. Something told her this room, with its long table filled with mortars and pestles, had another secret. 

And Freddie was reasonably certain where she would find it. 

At the end of the room was a protruding wall with a dingy wooden door. It was the first door that Freddie had seen in the dungeon, and she could see light-filled cracks where the wood was not properly joined. Looking back behind her, Freddie approached the door. 

Surely, if there were a creature hiding, it would have come out at the silence if not the commotion. She dropped the flames around her hands. 

Still, Freddie listened at the door for a long moment before pulling it open to reveal—

“Boxes?” She hummed curiously, slowly roaming her eyes around the room. 

It held seven wooden crates, no taller than Freddie’s knee. Popping one open, she looked at the powdery substance within—it was beige with a slight black tinge. 

[Inspect]

[Listrain Flour, Tier 1, Rare]

[Flour that is known for its nutty flavor and rejuvenating properties. Stone Goblins and Red Goblins favor it for its presumed ability to help build Strength.]

Freddie blinked, looking around. Behind her, a bell chimed. She didn’t bother to turn around. She was too busy staring down at the milled wheat before her. 

“Oh.” 

It was all she could think or say.

Before—

“Oh.” Freddie grinned. “This is good. This is very good.”

Not only would Freddie be grabbing the mortars and pestles outside, but she’d also be grabbing the flour. All of it. Because this? This she could use. Clearly, this was used to make the bread roll in the ‘Feast Fit For A Goblin’ she had consumed. 

And Freddie would be making as many as she could to boost her Strength again. 

In the back of her head came the [Combat Report], and while she accepted it, she really only focused on what she’d gained out of it. 

A Skill. 

[Fist of the Flame Monk]

[Inspect]

[Fist of the Flame Monk]

[Quick, efficient, deadly. Your fist blazes faster than a shooting star. Through dedicated practice, your movements grow more defined. Your heat shakes the bones of your enemy to their core.]

“That is so vague,” Freddie breathed. 

[Status]

[Name:  Fredericka Nemo]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 8]

[Unallocated Stat Points: 0]

[Vitality:              105                         Endurance:           31]

[Strength:             57                         Dexterity:              52]

[Perception:         28                         Magic:                   50]

[Luck:                   78                         Divinity:                 112]

[0th Tier Class: Child of the Gods, Max Level]

[Boon: Druigr’s Blessing]

[1st Tier Class: Young Lady of Flame, Level 12, 82.4%]

[Skills:                  

0th Tier: Fist of the Flame Monk Lv. 1, Inspect Lv. 6, Meditation Lv. 1, Running Lv. 6, Sparkler Lv. 5

1st Tier: Quick Fight Lv. 6, Bright as a Flickering Flame Lv. 5, Fire Step Lv. 5

2nd Tier: Otherworldly Lv. 2, Fire Conjuration Lv. 7, Fire Manipulation Lv. 7

3rd Tier: Imbue Flame Lv. 8

Untiered: Hidden Heart Lv. 1, Nemoan Martyr Lv. 2, Nemoan Protectorate Lv. 2, Regenerate Lv. 7]

On top of being a 0th Tier Skill, it didn’t even say if it was Passive or Active. 

Her grin turned feral. 

“I guess I’ll have to figure it out as I go.”

There was something brilliant about that, that the Skill was so poorly defined. It felt like it was a Skill that Freddie could truly make her own. Even the description was effectively useless. There was no knowing what the Skill did. It reminded Freddie of elsewhere. Of the way one found out about their soul rune. 

One wasn’t simply born with the rune. They were born with the potential for a rune. Some had more potential than others. Some, like Kalina, had even more potential than others thought possible. The runes were formed during infancy, in a moment of true need. The more potential one had, the greater the need required to manifest a soul rune. 

Kalina had met that requirement early on, when she was thrown into a hospital incinerator. One would think that was the tragedy. No, the real tragedy was that Kalina survived. Because she had been presumed stillborn. 

Her soul rune had manifested wholly within a day of being born. 

But that was a time best left forgotten in Freddie’s opinion. No good would come of dwelling on elsewhere and the Gladiatorial Games. Of thinking of her parents, who should have felt blessed that she’d lived, but instead were devastated at the knowledge she’d survived. No good at all. 

But, there was something to be said about the ferocity Freddie felt when she thought back to her time in the Games. She’d grown to love the fights, it was one of the few things she could control. It could be argued that a fight was left up to the victor, but Kalina was vicious. And had the endurance to back it up. To her, there was no fight that could not be won—so long as she possessed the willpower to do what was necessary. 

As Freddie dismissed the System screens, she instead focused on the flour. Reaching out with her fingers, she went to feel the consistency, but the drop of blood that fell first caused Freddie to hiss in pain. 

“Right, I forgot to recover.” Looking behind her, Freddie nodded. “I’ll drag the bodies to the pit, then clean the wound and [Regenerate]. Brilliant, Fred.”

Shaking out her shoulders, Freddie got to work. First order of business was dropping the mana pearls into her bag and putting her bag in the room with the flour. Next, she tucked the necklace she’d used as bait back in as well. Then she did the dirty work—dragging the corpses of the goblins to the pit with the Vanda Vine. Freddie tried not to gag, she did. But it smelled so bad. 

After dropping the Purple Goblin into the pit, she pulled off her jacket to wrap it around her face, but the thing was hardly any use until it restored itself, shredded as it was. With a sigh, Freddie dropped the jacket off to the side and just decided to deal with it. 

It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever had to deal with in the Gladiatorial Games. No, that had been… something else. 

Shaking her head, Freddie threw the thought away, instead opting to drag the other goblins into the pit two-by-two. One goblin in each arm. As the last of them were falling, Freddie finally went back to the storeroom—her jacket barely able to be worn. Pulling out her pillows, she angled the boxes of flour so that they blocked the door and curled up in the corner. 

Before she went to sleep, she pulled out a disinfectant potion and poured a splash over her palm, then swallowed some—just in case anything had gotten into her bloodstream. As the stinging sensation spread through her, Freddie misted herself with a True Wash potion. Finally, as the grime and sweat lifted, Freddie felt ready.

Using the last dregs of her mana, Freddie used [Regenerate]. 

Slowly, her skin began to itch. She knew that was what healing felt like, and so she let darkness take her. She let the dreams of fire and ember and ash fill her dreams. She let the day fall away once and for all. 

As she slept, her veins ignited in her mind. The magma of mana was spreading throughout her. But more than that. The aches in her bones grew deeper, and the pain in her knees sent a pang through Freddie. 

Her eyes popped open, orange eyes brilliant as they reflected a bouncing, flickering light that disappeared when she focused her gaze upon it.

Freddie didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because she recognized the pain in her knees.  

“[Nemoan Protectorate]”

A map unfurled, most of which was empty, but at the edge was a single presence. 

Someone she would know anywhere. 

“Grandfather has come.”