10. Vetting Process


    [Designation: THE NINEFOLD DAO]


    [Instrument Class: AUXILIARY]


    [Anchored Realm: MANESFERA (+3)]


    [Item Description: Not so much an ‘item’ as a ‘way of life’, the Ninefold Dao is built around the central tenet that the human body can mold itself into nine distinct weapons. Originally the brainchild of Venen Maracas-Diablos, a founding father of the Aracnido Sect, it has since been passed down through generations of the Sect’s most promising disciples. All nine ‘weapons’—or Daos, as the Aracnidos call them—are feared throughout Manesfera for their lethal brutality, none more so than the fabled ‘Ninth’: a technique so devastating in effect yet so perilous to acquire that only a handful of disciples throughout history can claim to have mastered all nine Daos. Don’t you just wish you could meet and pick the brains of one of these true masters? What singular talents they must embody! What nobility of spirit and strength of character!]


    ***


    Zacarias Borges-Juventus, alleged by Pathsight to be a master of the so-called NINEFOLD DAO, somehow managed to wink at Serac without looking in her direction.


    “I know I’m so fucking hot right now, baby, but I really think you should focus on your own fight!”


    Loath as she was to heed anything this man had to say, Serac nevertheless allowed her survival instincts to take the wheel, turning her attention onto the gunslinging Jailer just in time to see it fire in her direction. This she did manage to block with PULVERIZER, eating [30!] damage but also giving herself the chance to fire back.


    [111!]. She immediately shifted her focus to her Stamina bar, realized she still had a strip of it left, then made the snap-second decision to fire again in quick succession.


    [111!]. Combined with the shot with which she’d opened the encounter, this was now the third bullet she’d deposited into the same target, which meant… Yes! The Jailer fell to its knees, Poise-broken. This window allowed Serac to refill her Stamina while still having enough time to move in for a melee combo of her own.


    The first jab with PULVERIZER, even when boosted by a critical multiplier, only managed to deal [178!] in damage, leaving a good chunk of HP still to erase. Serac ignored her rising anxiety and persisted with her combo, intent on conserving Cartridge wherever she could.


    The second move in the combo was a left-to-right hook that hit for [187!]. Still not enough. A thin morsel of the Jailer’s HP still remained, and Serac willed herself to finish off her three-hit melee combo with a weighty uppercut.


    Except she couldn’t! For the earlier gap-closer together with the first two punches had already used up her Stamina. And as she waited with rising panic for her green bar to fill back up, the now Poise-recovered Jailer stirred, rearing itself to its full height and balling up a massive fist to bring down on the Rakshasa’s head.


    Welp, I guess that’s that. This was Serac’s first time seeing a Jailer try a punch of its own, and as such, she didn’t know for sure how hard it could hit. But she had to assume, even at a conservative estimate, that it’d be more than enough to hammer down to nothing what little remained of her own HP…


    … And that was when her vision filled, not with the pale blob that was the Jailer’s fist, but with the muscular and puke-covered frame of one Zacarias Borges-Juventus.


    The Manusya Wayfarer, taller than most Rakshasas but still only half the size of a Hellspawn Jailer, nonetheless barged into the latter’s side, shoulder-first, thereby knocking the Jailer off its feet and sending it tumbling onto the staircase a second time.


    [Auxiliary Technique: THE FIFTH DAO—PAULDRON]


    The NINEFOLD master wasn’t done there. He gave the Jailer no chance to recover (and Serac no chance to react) as he smoothly transitioned from a shoulder tackle into a downward fist aimed straight into the Hellspawn’s bloated tummy.


    [Auxiliary Technique: THE THIRD DAO—CESTUS]


    The punch elicited a dull and rather sickening thwack. For one brief moment, Zacarias’s sallow musculature merged with the Jailer’s pale flabbiness to produce a picture of ill health that, at least in Serac’s eyes, was truly fit for hell. The moment was thankfully brief, however, as the flabby portion of that abomination soon crumbled to Souldust.


    And even as the erstwhile Jailer dissolved into the Interstitium, and even as the man that dealt the smiting blow hopped to his feet with a lithe motion and dusted himself off, Serac Edin was left gaping and speechless.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    She couldn’t make up her mind what amazed her more. Was it Zacarias’s (admittedly) competent flair… or was it the fact the whole thing felt so nostalgic—as though a part of her soul could recall fighting alongside a cocky bastard just like him?


    But then her perception of the world shifted again, this time with another Pathsighted notification. And it was this latest bit of news—and the accompanying flash of annoyance—that dragged Serac out of her hazy non-recollections and back down to hell.


    “Hang on…” She spoke out loud, forgetting to put on her filter. “Only [120 ?]? That’s not right! Shouldn’t killing a Jailer give me [300 ?]?”


    Now it was Zacarias’s turn to side-eye her quizzically, as if she’d grown an extra set of horns. Sensing right away that she’d bumbled into another Wayfaring faux pas, Serac tried to hide her embarrassment as she switched to her ‘inside voice’.


    Oi, Trippy. This discounted Karma haul… I’m guessing it has something to do with this Manusya asshole poking his head in?


    “Precisely. In the event that two or more Wayfarers make contributions to the same instance of smiting, the resultant Karma is divided between them at a set ratio, with the Wayfarer that dealt the smiting blow receiving the larger share.”


    What? But… that’s not fair, is it? You saw what happened; I took off nearly all of that Jailer’s HP, and all this asshole did was come in and finish off the last bit!


    “I don’t disagree with you, Serac Edin. This is a classic case of what we in the business call a smite steal. But… it is what it is. Ever since the Devas implemented Pathsight and adopted a hands-off approach to Karma monitoring, it’s become all but impossible for these edge cases to be adjudicated with any degree of nuance or subtlety. You’ll have to learn to live with it, or perhaps better yet, steal back a smiting or two whenever you get the chance.”


    That… asshole! Serac thought fervently, cursing her own lack of variety in insults. Wait. Hang on. Trippy? Why do you make it sound like this ‘smite steal’ thing is about to become an ongoing issue?


    “… It’s rather obvious, isn’t it? You’re going to accept this Manusya’s offer of support. At least until you both make it out of the Damnatorium, and perhaps for longer if need be. The two of you shall be Wayfaring companions.”


    Wait! Hang on! What happened? You’re the one that was so against this idea just a minute ago! What, did Mr NINEFOLD’s fancy hiyah moves win you over?


    “As a matter of fact, they did. If you recall what I actually said, it was that I refuse to bring on a third party without a proper vetting process. Well, I’ve seen enough. Consider me made painfully aware of your need for a second, more experienced Wayfarer to ‘take the heat’ on occasion. And consider this Zacarias Borges-Juventus and his close combat capabilities vetted to my satisfaction.”


    But… but…! Try as she might, the best and only argument Serac could come up with was, he’s such an asshole, though!


    “Um, Horn-girl? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”


    Serac snapped out of her and Trippy’s private conference at once. She then met Zacarias with as hostile a glare as she could muster. The look on the man’s face—a faint smile, obviously insincere and far too sly for her liking—only served to aggravate her annoyance.


    “What?” she muttered.


    “No, it’s just that… you’ve gone awfully quiet,” Zacarias replied evenly, widening his smile as though he’d said something funny. “That last scuffle hasn’t scared you off the trail, has it? You’re still alright to keep going?”


    “Of course I’m fine! What’s it to you?”


    “What’s it to me? Well, my offer still stands, you know. I’d love for us to share the road for a while, and if we were to do that, it’s only natural for me to be concerned about the welfare of my traveling companion. So… have you given it any more thought? About letting me tag along?”


    The slyness of his smile persisted throughout his speech, much to Serac’s consternation. She especially didn’t like the way he placed that emphasis on ‘you’—as if there might be more than one way to interpret that word…


    “Don’t be rash, Wayfarer. I know this Manusya rubs you the wrong way, and believe me, I myself am no admirer of his personality. But there’s no denying his fighting prowess and how useful it could be for us—at least at this stage of our journey.”


    “Fine!” Serac snapped out loud, answering two souls at once. “You’ll help me get out of this damn prison, and I’ll help get your VISAGE back or whatever. But that’s it! That’s about as far as I could stand being chummy with the likes of you!”


    Zacarias’s eyes flashed with mischief as though he might put up another snide argument. But then he appeared to think better of it, settling instead for a wink and a nod.


    “Works for me, Horn-girl. Good to make your acquaintance, and may our Paths never lead us astray for long.”


    “And one more thing!” Serac continued at a high decibel, riding the momentum of her anger long after it’d already dissipated. “Stop calling me ‘Horn-girl’ if you know what’s good for you. I have a name, as I’m sure you saw. Maybe try using it.”


    The Manusya let out a chuckle, good-naturedly enough. “Fine, Serac, I will. Speaking of… I don’t think I’ve heard you call me by my name.”


    “That’s because your name sucks!” Serac blurted, then had the grace to immediately feel bad. She went on in a softer tone, “Sorry. I didn’t actually mean that. But ‘Zacarias’ is two too many syllables for a proper nickname between, er, traveling companions.”


    “If you say so, Horn—Serac. Were you going to come up with something else?”


    “I already did. Zacko! That’s what I’m calling you from now on. You’re going to respond to it, and I frankly don’t care if you like it or not.”