Monster Hunting 401: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure by Andrew Karevik (book suggestions .TXT) 📗

I raised my hand to stop him from explaining himself. “Don’t worry, Trig, we’re equals here.”

“Really?” he asked.

I nodded. “You followed me into the darkness and have stayed strong, resolute and willing to do whatever it takes to save these people. As far as I’m concerned, you have as much say in this operation as I do. You’ve always had my trust, but you’ve earned a great deal of respect in this adventure. I will see that you are promoted in some capacity when we get home.”

“Just get me off of guard duty, please!” he said, clasping his fingers together and pleading with me. “It’s just so boring.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. I was thinking of promoting you to captain of the guard,” I said. “Too bad.”

Trig laughed at that joke, perhaps a little too hard. I could see that he was trying to suppress his nervousness, to hide just how afraid he was of this Shadow Titan. I wouldn’t scold him for such fear, of course. Sometimes, fear was all we had to keep us alive. Maybe we needed all the fear we could get for what was to come.

Chapter 38

The pale green flame cast no shadows as it danced upon the end of my torch. No heat came from it, only a cold sensation, like a bitter wind blowing by. It barely illuminated the world around me, but visibility was not the purpose. The purpose was to be completely hidden from my enemy. From the Shadow Titan that was watching us at all times. Thankfully, the green flame was easy to move around, for it turned out that the flame was connected to single pieces of wood that never burned up. Creating a torch was just as easy as picking up a wood block out of one of the braziers and tying it to a stick. However, it was unfortunate that separating the wood caused the other flames in the brazier to immediately dissipate.

Still you fight, the Vessel said as I laid out the various monster bones I had collected over the year. Most of the bones were Kinru, not particularly useful for much, but something I kept within my enchanted bag just in case I ever needed them. And now, it would seem that they would help to create a Titan Blind—a little hunting shack where no Titan could see within. How the blind would work, I had no idea, but I simply did as my instincts told me, tying bones together with string and using large palm fronds to make walls. A blind big enough to hold two people would take me half a day at the least and I had spent most of that day tinkering with those bones. Despite there being no reward for you.

The Overseer had kept hidden underground with the rest of the villagers, but had no trouble sending messages to me, inquiring into my choices.

There are many rewards, I replied. Most of them intangible, but rewards, nonetheless.

There was a wave of curiosity from the creature as I continued working on the hut, slowly but surely turning it into a building that could house the Stabwagon and two hunters. But that is not why you act. You act because you wish to save them. And you are so afraid of casualties that you would rather die in the field, than risk transporting them to safety right now.

I paused at those words. He wasn’t wrong. The idea of losing anyone on my watch sickened me. These people have been through a lot. They all deserve to have a new life.

That is what you believe. And you would rather try and slay a great beast than simply give an inch up. Yet I cannot understand why.

Do you not have empathy? I asked, pulling on the rope that caused the walls to slowly rise up, tightly holding together. They clicked into place almost as if by magic, creating a perfect shelter. All that was missing was a roof. I had to gather more leaves for that.

The Overseer was quiet for a moment. I could sense his confusion at the word. Empathy seems to be at odds with survival. To care about others is to perhaps give up your own advantage. Sacrifice may be necessary to protect your pod…but that is still not empathy. That is merely duty to protect one’s own.

Mr. Blue seemed to be quite puzzled at this. I pressed a little. Suppose that another pod was in danger, and you could aid them. Would you? I asked.

If they were willing to adapt and become subservient to my pod, yes. Otherwise, their destruction would mean nothing to us. They would merely come back in a few centuries, having learned a valuable lesson in their own failings.

Ah, and there it was. Masara regenerated, meaning that they weren’t truly dead. Why have empathy for a creature that was going to come back to life? I mean…if humans just popped back up a few centuries later, no worse for wear, I can’t really imagine being so concerned with their fates.

We don’t come back, I said. Which is why I care about their fates more than anything.

If you do not return to life, then the act of sacrificing your own for theirs is even more puzzling. I must contemplate your actions, Avery.

The Vessel fell silent after that. I didn’t pay much mind to his questions any longer and simply continued my work, focusing as best I could on getting the blind in working condition. The Masara were just as fascinating to me as I was to them. The only difference was that I quite cared about the fate of these people. Blue didn’t seem particularly attached, one way or another. Perhaps in time, he could learn to care about things beyond his own pod.

I finished up the work on the blind, stepping back to admire my work. The blind itself was a large square hut with a triangular roof,