Chapter 9 - Court of Thorns

In the White Marble Temple – An Hour After the Groups Left

Hunger was beginning to affect those who had stayed behind, especially the ones who hadn't moved much. Some of the boys had been left back to keep the field groups from becoming too large, while all the girls had remained behind—except Asha.

Jesse sat still, tired, swinging her arm as she reset the timer. Her brow wrinkled as she remembered that Asha was the only one they had taken.

It's not like I dislike her… Jesse frowned. She's plain. Nothing special about her. But it's unfair that they thought she was the only one they needed. Newsflash: Jackson's only alive right now because of me.

She puffed her cheeks and exhaled, bored. Some of the other girls were reading novels, but Jesse never liked reading. She barely liked studying. Sitting down with a book just didn't appeal to her.

Instead, she studied the high ceiling of the White Marble Temple—the torches that never seemed to burn out, the arches stretching above her, and the strange symbols carved into the four corners of the hall. She stared at them for so long that she felt she could see a pattern. Opening her notebook, she sketched the first symbol in front of her, then the rest in a clockwise sequence.

The first and second are connected. The third and fourth feel like another word. Maybe another sentence. Each symbol could be multiple words, like… She tapped her pen against her lips. Like Chinese.

Rolling her eyes, she shut the book.

Beside her, Jackson suddenly jerked awake, gasping.

Jesse was on her feet instantly. The other girls looked up, some moving closer.

She placed a steadying hand on his shoulder and spoke calmly. "Hey, you're alright. Relax. Do you feel any pain? Dizziness?"

Jackson stared at her with wide, excited eyes. "I was just with Matthew."

Jesse paused, thrown off. Her mind reeled. she couldn't respond, a girl beside her blurted out, "Wait, how?"

Jackson fell silent for a moment, his eyes moving slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, Jane sauntered over, giving him a thoughtful look before asking, "A vision?"

"Yes! Exactly! But it's scattered, I can't—"

"It might be Blue Trick… Check your health."

Jackson quickly pulled up his status screen, scanning it before frowning. "My health went up a lot. I think I understand the sequence of visions now. They're scattered, but—" He exhaled sharply. "It was Matthew. He stabbed a monster and tore it open. But I was also the worm. I couldn't see, but I felt—I heard—I used sound to guess how big things were, how solid their bodies were…"

Jesse checked his wound and nearly froze. This isn't even real anymore. It's practically gone. From hemostasis to remodeling in an hour.

Jane crouched down, brushing the ground with her middle finger, her expression unreadable. "Most likely, the transference of life force passed on some of the creature's experiences."

Jesse's mind reeled. Matthew and the others are still out there. Bleeding out. Struggling to get back so I can try to save them. Her fingers tightened around the edges of her sleeves. Could I even do it? I'm mediocre at surgery anyway. I was flunking skills lab and surgical anatomy.

Jane smiled coyly. "Is Matthew alright?"

Jackson nodded slowly. "I feel… weirdly angry at him. Is that the worm's feelings? I remember his voice. I think he was telling one of them to stab me between my armor. Then he used Blue Trick to tear my stomach open and run."

Jane's laugh was soft and amused, like sunlight filtering through leaves. "Relax, friend. You're not a worm. And you were right—Matthew is impressive." She flicked her gaze toward Jesse, watching her out of the corner of her eye.

Jesse clenched her fists and pursed her lips. "Don't need you to tell me that." Her voice was tight. What happened to avoiding fights?

Jane shrugged, still grinning. "Some fights can't be avoided. It may not be his pride or foolishness—just circumstance. At least we've conquered our first enemy."

She raised her bottle in a mock toast to her friends. "To many more glorious victories, am I right?"

---

Matthew watched the boy with the gun solemnly.

This is beyond a miscalculation. This is a foolish mistake—purely my fault. If I can't resolve this… I have to resolve this.

He knew the boy with stringy brown hair and olive skin. Vasilis. He was from Greece. He had refused to attend Parker's original meeting, saying, "I don't like that bastard's face."

Vasilis had been alone at first, but another boy—one Matthew had already been watching in case of trouble—approached him. They started talking about how annoying and pompous Parker, Tuomas and the rest of the groups were. Eventually, they met the other four boys here and planned an ambush outside to take anything the group had gathered.

Matthew had seen two knives. But never a gun.

He had assumed advanced technology wasn't brought here. But a gun wasn't electronic. At least this model wasn't.

He had also assumed they would try to isolate one of them and extort them. I have my wish coin in my back pocket.

The spirit essence and wish coin in his pocket suddenly felt heavy, and his frown deepened. They're the only things I'd truly mind losing. In fact, they're the most important things I have.

I thought we could at least run. Rely on our superior understanding of the terrain to escape.

Fuck. His chest tightened. This was a massive mistake. His jaw clenched as he struggled to not let his face show any reactions. Damn it. Damn it… How could I fuck up this royally?

Vasilis grinned, watching the sudden change in their expressions. "You fuckers don't wanna die, huh?" He cocked the gun. "On your knees. If you give me a reason, I won't mind blowing a hole in your dumbasses."

They all knelt, anger held back. The six attackers corralled them, forcing them to shuffle forward on their knees, kicking them and tossing insults. They lined up all nine of them, with Matthew at the back.

Vasilis turned to one of his friends and chuckled. "Look at them. So high and mighty before. Weren't you gonna use that to smash my head in?" His eyes narrowed. "What happened to all that toughness?"

One of his friends swung a crowbar, striking the Fifth Messenger across the back. The blow was half-serious, improperly angled, so the Fifth Messenger only flinched slightly. He glared up at Vasilis. "We don't have anything, fucker."

Vasilis nodded thoughtfully. "Where's Parker? Hey, check in there for anything."

"Don't know," the Fifth Messenger replied stiffly.

The crowbar struck him harder this time—before Vasilis could even signal it. The wielder snarled, "He asked a fucking question, blockhead. You think this is a fucking game?"

Vasilis smirked, waving a hand. "You heard him. Be straight with me, man. As fun as I make it seem, I don't like bullying retards."

The Fifth Messenger groaned as he struggled back to his knees. "He went down a tunnel."

Vasilis frowned. "He has you dumb bastards. Why go himself?" His voice was suddenly unamused. "Be honest with me. Don't let this get serious."

His burly colleague raised the crowbar again—

"Chill! Jesus Christ, he's not even lying!" The Third Messenger interjected hastily. He exhaled. "I'll explain."

And solemnly, he began to reveal their system to the six invaders.

---

Vasilis laughed uncontrollably. "Loadbearers, might as well call you idiots pack mules… oh god, this is so fucking stupid."

His friend laughed too, one of them smacked the back of Matthew's head, calling him a donkey. Meanwhile, Matthew was growing sure that Vasilis would shoot them if they tried him.

He's a fucking psycho. To him, we're probably not worth the thought.

"So he's coming back with the goodies, huh? Well, I don't mind waiting here for that. In the meantime, search them—let's see what presents they have for us."

They began searching them, and all of the messengers kept turning back to Matthew. It was an unavoidable outcome, as they would also feel the despair of losing the essence to this guy.

Vasilis noticed this and walked over to him. He stood behind and placed the gun at the back of his head, the cold metal uncomfortably pressing against his skull. His voice was polite but demanding.

"Take it out before I take a look at what you're thinking in that tiny brain of yours."

Matthew winced and put on a show of reluctance gripped the ground hard before Vasilis noisily released the safety on his gun. He then took out the spirit essence and gave it to him.

Vasilis threw them in the air, smiling. "What a good day. Take out the rest, though, before I take them off your corpse."

Matthew wasn't surprised. The boy was rather observant—he had seen Matthew trying to select only the spirit essence in his pocket. He took out the wish coin and gave it to him.

The others were shocked to see he had a wish coin but said nothing.

Vasilis smiled widely. "Good job. Nice doing business with you." He slapped Matthew across the face mockingly before walking to the top of the group.

The second messenger finally snapped. "You can't take that! You didn't fight that thing, or even risk—"

A solid kick to the stomach cut him off. He doubled over, gasping.

Vasilis grabbed his hair and yanked him up, forcing him to look into his eyes. His grin was sharp, all teeth and amusement. "You're right, man. I don't deserve this. I didn't even risk my life—ohh, how could I possibly?"

His fingers clenched, and the spirit essence shattered in his palm, turning to dust and flowing into his chest.

"Ohhhh no," he drawled, mockingly. "That isn't right, huh? I didn't even work for this."

The fifth messenger lunged at him from his kneeling position, but Vasilis was faster. The gunshot cracked like thunder in the usually quiet cave.

The fifth collapsed, clutching his leg and screaming in pain.

Vasilis looked shocked at his own reflexes but brushed it off, stood, and kicked the fifth in his stomach, growling, "Don't scare me like that… bastard."

Some of his people looked displeased that he had absorbed all that essence by himself, but he didn't notice. Matthew did and kept it to himself, keeping his face of concern for the fifth messenger.

Should have controlled your emotions. Don't make that idiot use that gun out here. He doesn't understand how dangerous noise is here.

Vasilis flipped the wish coin in his hands. He looked at his comrades.

"Check their bags for ropes. We'll wait here."

He paused for a moment before adding, "Actually—send the messengers out. Pfft, messengers. Go out and gather things with your fellow pack mules, then come back here in… hmm, an hour, I guess. Maybe two. We'll blow out your friends' brains if you don't."

He turned to the third and fourth messengers. "Tell your teams about this if you want, but all of you need to come back here with two wish coins and at least ten spirits." He shifted his gaze to the first and second. "Same for you guys. But don't tell your friends about this. I'm sending two of my associates with you, and if they aren't the first to cross that threshold unharmed, I kill one of these mules."

They stood, and Matthew pushed the second messenger along, pretending to support him, towards the particular goon he wanted. They left, and Vasilis shouted, "Good luck, idiots!"

They began to make it back to their groups, walking quickly. The goon chosen to follow them was Petyr—a tall, burly young man with a buzz cut and a sadistic demeanor. They walked in front of him, not warning him about his footing, but after a couple of trips and slips, he quickly watched and followed where they were walking.

The second messenger kept throwing him looks of pity and desperation, but Matthew pointedly ignored him. He was very angry—both at himself and at Vasilis.

I have to rein in my feelings about that bastard. I've already underestimated them once. A second time will be unforgivable.

He turned to the goon behind him and clicked his tongue in irritation before turning away from him.

This caught Petyr's attention as he walked up, leaning over Matthew's shoulder. "Do we have a problem, donkey?"

Matthew pretended to be startled and stuttered. "Uhh—nothing. Just impressed at Vasilis' plan to fuck us over."

"It wasn't hard for us to plan against you donkeys," Petyr replied unassumingly.

"Us?"

"What!"

"I mean, it was the gun that did all the work, really."

Petyr rolled his eyes."Hey, I don't want to talk to someone so obviously retarded. Keep fucking moving," 

It was a careful attack at Petyr. Matthew knew Petyr was the one to meet Vasilis first and organize the group. He had probably lost influence to Vasilis' gun and charismatic nature.

Matthew turned, feigning irritation. "Wish I could be a henchman too."

Petyr turned him around and slammed him against the wall, placing his forearm against his neck.

The second messenger roared in displeasure. "Get the fuck off him!"

As the second approached to attack, Petyr sneered back. "Stay right there, or I crush his windpipe."

The second stopped, seething. Petyr leaned in close, eyes burning with sinister amusement. "Small fry like you should learn to stay in their lane. This is your last warning. Next time, I'll actually crush your windpipe." He smirked. "Vasilis isn't the only thing you have to worry about. You'll all be following us soon."

Matthew coughed weakly. "S-Sorry… sorry!"

He wasn't very worried, he had set his chin between the forearm and his neck—he could escape and dislocate Petyr's arm anytime. All he wanted was to plant a seed, and he had even gained some decent information.

Petyr released him, and he rubbed his neck, started walking, and told the second Messenger he was alright, taking the front so that he could let himself stop pretending.

His eyes darkened, and his face twisted into something malicious and foreboding.

Let the games begin then.