The Top Student and the Flunkie
Rumble—rumble—rumble—BOOM!
The entire sewer screamed.
Stone dust poured from the ceiling, moss clinging to the walls tore free in clumps, and even the filthy water underfoot heaved and slapped against the walls.
“Hurry!”
At Zick’s shout the party poured on more speed. Gerard took the lead while Drake ranged a little farther ahead, knifing through the dark. Heinz, Noah, and Reno stayed tight on their heels.
The closer they drew to the epicenter, the more violent the tremors became. Somewhere ahead a ceaseless wind howled, battering their ears.
CRASH!
Another wall shuddered hard. Zick ducked a falling chunk of stone.
What the hell is happening in there?
This was no ordinary battle tremor. Something was thrashing hard enough to shake the whole underground. Worst of all was the raw wind pressure that kept punching through the explosions—almost certainly the authority of the Hero of Typhoon, Ska.
So Ska was still fighting?
Please don’t let us be too late.
Zick was still grinding his teeth and running when Drake, scouting at the very front, suddenly raised a fist.
Halt.
The prearranged hand signal. Gerard cut his speed at once; the rest of the party skidded to a stop inside a wide cavern. Zick held his breath and edged up beside Drake.
A single tunnel mouth opened on the far side of the cavern, but the darkness beyond was absolute; there was no telling how far it ran. Drake laid a finger across his lips.
“Someone’s coming.”
Zick stared into the tunnel. All he could hear were distant vibrations and the slap of water. Then, mixed among them, irregular sounds began to resolve.
Splish.
Splish.
Feet pounding through water in a hurry. Not one person—several, racing straight toward them.
Drake asked in a low voice, “What do we do?”
Zick scanned the cavern’s layout in a heartbeat. The space was broad, but there was nowhere decent to hide. Move now and they would only give their position away first.
“We wait here.”
Gerard drew his sword. Drake pressed himself against the wall; Heinz tightened his grip on his staff. Noah and Reno drifted back into the center of the group.
The footsteps grew louder. At first they were only faint shadows in the dark. Then four figures took shape: a massive man carrying a huge shield, a female mage with a staff, a young man with daggers, and a woman in saintess robes.
Reno narrowed his eyes, studying them. “Matches the descriptions we got from the Orten branch.”
“The Typhoon Hero Party?”
“Yes. Warrior Brock, mage Evelyn, thief Roy, and saintess Linda, by the look of it.”
The tension in Noah’s shoulders eased a fraction. “Then they’re not enemies.”
“Noah.”
Zick’s quiet voice made the priest flinch.
“We have no proof they’re really the Typhoon Hero’s companions.”
“Ah—”
“Stay sharp. Caution never hurts.”
Noah pressed his lips together, embarrassed at how quickly he had relaxed. “I’m sorry, Hero.”
“Nothing to apologize for. Just keep watching.”
The four on the other side had spotted them as well. Their headlong rush slowed dramatically. Both groups stopped at the same moment, leaving a careful stretch of open ground between them.
After a brief silence Roy spoke first. He was still breathing hard, yet he leveled a dagger at Zick’s party.
“Don’t know who you are, but if you’re enemies, come at us all at once.”
The words were rough, yet the tip of the blade trembled and his eyes never stopped sweeping the shadows—as if he expected enemies to burst out from every direction.
Linda grabbed his arm. “Roy, wait.”
“Let go. What if they’re Black Hand warlocks?”
“Their descriptions match the report. They’re probably Hero Zick’s party.”
Roy’s gaze locked on Zick. “You the Hero Zick?”
Normally Zick would have corrected the tone first; now he simply raised his hand. The mark etched on the back of it glowed with a sacred radiance far beyond ordinary holy power—the Hero’s Crest, the proof granted only to those chosen by the gods. Anyone could tattoo a copy of the design, but no one could fake the divinity that poured from the real thing.
The moment Linda saw the crest she knew. “He’s genuine.”
At that single word the Typhoon Hero Party’s tension drained away. Brock set his shield on the floor; Evelyn leaned against the wall, gulping air. Even Linda’s knees nearly gave out.
Zick’s party, however, did not relax. Gerard stepped forward, sword still pointed.
“Your turn.”
Roy scowled. “You already heard us talking. We’re the Typhoon Hero Party.”
“Show us a Hero’s Crest.”
All four faces darkened at once. Linda bit her lip; Roy shouted in desperation.
“Ska isn’t here! He’s holding the ritual alone right now! We have to call for backup before he goes down!”
Gerard’s blade did not lower. Drake wordlessly scanned the four for openings. Faint mana gathered at the tip of Heinz’s staff, ready to fire the instant anyone made a wrong move. Noah and Reno both closed their hands around the protective amulets Zick had given them.
Linda took one step forward. “We really are the Typhoon Hero’s companions. Please believe us.”
“Believe you without a Hero present? On what grounds?”
Gerard’s voice was ice. “Even if you are his real companions, that still proves nothing. How do we know you didn’t betray the Typhoon Hero and run?”
Roy’s face flushed crimson. “What did you just say?”
“Didn’t hear me?”
“Us betray Ska? You think we’re cowards who left that bastard alone and ran?!”
Roy started forward with his dagger, but Brock’s huge hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“Calm down.”
“But that guy just—”
“They have no reason to trust us.”
Roy ground his teeth. He glared as if he meant to leap at Gerard any second, then finally shoved the dagger back into its sheath with a harsh scrape.
Tense silence pressed down on the cavern.
Zick, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Zick.”
Gerard turned, ready to argue, then saw Zick’s face and swallowed the words. The usual lightness was gone; Zick’s expression was deadly serious, and his eyes blazed with golden divinity—the same sign that appeared whenever he activated his authority after surviving the Arachne nest.
“You used the authority?”
Zick simply nodded. In truth he had triggered it the instant he spotted the Typhoon party; an indescribable, ominous power had been rolling toward them from the direction they had come.
Seeing the nod, Gerard quietly lowered his sword. Drake sheathed his daggers; the mana on Heinz’s staff faded. The Typhoon companions, who had inwardly dismissed Zick, could not look away. The man they knew was a bottom-tier hero with the ridiculous nickname “Hero of No Undies Today.” The man standing before them now showed not a flicker of hesitation. He had assessed the situation at once, ordered his companions to stand down, and decided to rescue another hero in danger. That quiet resolve crushed the Typhoon party even harder—especially Linda, who bit her lip under a crushing weight of guilt. She was the one who had goaded Ska into acting alone, insisting they did not need Zick’s help.
Her knees hit the wet stone floor in front of Zick.
“What are you doing?”
“The decision to act alone was entirely my responsibility. The Typhoon Hero is blameless. Whatever price you demand for this later, I will pay it. So please—save Ska.”
Zick walked past the kneeling saintess without a flicker of emotion. There was no time to listen to apologies. The situation his authority had shown him was far worse than expected.
“We’re short on time, so I’ll take the apology later. Let’s move.”
He strode toward the tunnel the Typhoon party had come from. Gerard followed at once; Drake and Heinz moved without a word. Noah cast a worried glance at Linda, then bowed his head slightly and hurried after the others. Reno adjusted his pack and brought up the rear.
Zick passed Linda in silence and broke into a run toward Ska. What he needed right now was not to assign blame—it was to save a life.
Linda stared blankly at Zick’s receding back. The hero she had looked down on, the one she had decided would be useless, was now the first to race to Ska’s rescue.
“Linda, snap out of it. We have to get to Ska as well.”
“Ah—yes! Right away.”
She scrambled to her feet. The Typhoon Hero Party charged back into the tunnel Zick’s group had vanished down—back to the place they had left Ska alone, this time to bring him home.
“Zick.”
After a long stretch of silent running, Gerard shot him a sidelong look. “What did the authority show you?”
Without slowing, Zick gave a clipped summary. The Typhoon Hero Party had found the warlocks at the epicenter; the warlocks had spotted them in turn and battle had erupted. The warlocks had been wiped out, but the last remaining elder, Malkion, had sacrificed his own life and soul—and those of his subordinates—to complete the ritual. And now Ska was holding that curse back alone with his body.
Reno pushed his glasses up. “Then we truly must hurry. If he’s blocking a curse by himself, he won’t last long.”
“I’m going to the center alone.”
Gerard’s brow twitched. “Alone?”
“Yeah. The rest of you have other work.”
Zick pulled the sewer blueprints from his coat. Still running, he unfolded the map and tapped three spots his authority had confirmed.
“Here, here, and over there. Totems anchoring the active ritual. Destroy all of them and the curse stops completely.”
Heinz stroked his beard. “Hmm. If the curse makes people mistake one another for enemies, splitting up is wiser than charging in as a group.”
Gerard still looked unhappy. “Can you handle it alone?”
“We’ll find out.”
“If the Typhoon Hero has already been swallowed by the curse, you’ll be facing that monster by yourself.”
Ska was a powerhouse who left Zick in the dust. Zick stared ahead for a moment, then turned and flashed Gerard a broad grin.
“Trust me.”
Gerard studied that face. The usual light smile was back, but the eyes never wavered. A faint answering smile touched Gerard’s own mouth.
“If you come back after losing to the Typhoon Hero, I’m multiplying your training load by ten. Be ready.”
“Quit talking nonsense and get moving!”
With Gerard in the lead the others peeled off toward the totems. Alone now, Zick poured on speed toward the heart of the ritual.
At last the vast underground refuge opened before him. The scene inside was pure hell.
“What a complete mess.”
Beyond the entrance a black wind howled like a living thing. Walls had been blown apart; stone shards and filthy water sprayed in every direction. And underneath it all, the curse’s whisper scraped endlessly at the inside of his skull.
Zick clenched his teeth and forced his way through the storm.
Ska was already fully consumed. Grotesque dark-violet veins crawled across his entire body. His eyes had lost every trace of white, black and unfocused. The rough yet sacred wind Zick had seen at the examination grounds was gone; only a sinister, violent black tempest wrapped the man now.
KUUOOOOOOOH!
Ska lifted his head. Wind pressure exploded across the floor, a razor gale that sliced Zick’s cheek open. Blood ran, but Zick did not retreat. Instead he twisted his mouth into a grin and drew his sword.
Top student and flunkie.
The distance that had once seemed endless finally collided here.
Zick leveled the blade at Ska and took one step forward.
“All right, top of the class. This flunkie’s here to save you!”