Chapter 169: News from Creamont

The sun dropped below the valley’s rim. Shadows stretched across the camp where survivors had gathered to rest.Fires burned in scattered clusters across the clearing. Reidar sat near one, watching the flames dance while his Spectral Knights stayed around.

The survivors spread out in groups. Some checked their equipment. Others talked in low voices, sharing stories about the various fights they had gone through. A few collapsed on the ground, as they were too exhausted to do anything except sleep.

Reidar was in front of a crackling fire. Lena and Jake were with him.

Lena was cleaning her daggers with a cloth. Jake was next to her, poking at the fire with a stick.

<Let’s hope he will grow well...>

"Are you hungry?" Lena asked.

"I could eat something," Reidar said.

She pulled three chunks of monster meat from her inventory. The meat came from one of the Razorwing Skitterers they’d killed earlier.

At that point, whatever they found that was edible had to be eaten. There was no room to be picky.

She speared the chunks onto sticks and propped them over the flames. The meat sizzled. Fat dripped into the fire, sending up small bursts of flame.

Other survivors had their own fires. Some roasted similar cuts of monster meat. Others ate dried rations or food they’d scavenged before the quest.

A group of survivors then sat in their area. Reidar and Lena let them be. They weren’t interested in the meat but rather in the alcohol they were passing to each other. The glass reflected firelight.

They looked like they had been in quite the argument before arriving, and they kept talking about it as if Reidar, Lena and Jake didn’t even exist.

"I’m telling you, the Thalassari stuff is the best," one man said. He held up a blue alcohol bottle. "Smooth as water going down, but it hits like a hammer."

"You’re insane," a woman said. She had a different bottle; this one was green. "The K’tharan liquors are superior. They have flavor. The Thalassari drinks taste like ocean water mixed with piss."

"Both of you are wrong. Nothing beats the human-made stuff. At least we know what went into it."

The first man snorted. "Human alcohol? You mean that swill someone cooked in a rusted pot? No thanks. I’ll take the alien booze any day. Made with the best hygiene standards!"

The woman raised her green bottle. "To the K’tharans and their superior distilling methods."

"To getting drunk on whatever works," the third person said.

They clinked bottles and drank.

Reidar watched the exchange in amusement. The alcohol trade had exploded after the apocalypse. Alien vendors sold liquor from thousands of worlds, each with different effects and flavors, and people liked it.

Some survivors preferred the familiarity of human-made drinks. Others embraced the alien varieties, but most just wanted to drown their sorrows.

Lena turned the meat over the flames. "They’re enjoying themselves."

"They earned it," Reidar said. "We all did."

Jake pulled his stick from the fire. The end glowed red. He blew on it until the glow faded.

"Do you think the other quests will be harder?" He asked.

"Probably," Reidar said. "Each one has different challenges. The Razorwing nest was confined to tunnels. The other locations will have different terrain and different monsters."


"Don’t worry, sweetie," Lena said with the most reassuring smile she could muster. "You will be able to do as good as you did today."

Jake nodded. Lena then pulled one of the meat chunks from the fire and handed it to Jake. "Eat now. You are still growing."

Jake took the stick and bit into the meat. He chewed slowly, his face scrunching up at the taste. Monster meat never tasted good, especially without seasoning, but it filled the stomach.

Lena handed the second stick to Reidar. He accepted it and took a bite. The meat was tough and had a bitter aftertaste. He swallowed anyway.

"What are you thinking?" He asked. She remained silent for some time. "We did this often with Lysa, Torren, and... Jorik."

The memory must have been painful to remember and sweet at the same time. Lena had trouble accepting that Jorik was a traitor.

The conversation about alcohol then grew louder. Other survivors joined the discussion. Soon, a dozen people were debating the merits of various liquors.

Reidar sat on the ground and leaned back against the log he had been using as a seat. The ground was hard, but he didn’t care.

Then movement caught his eye.

Seraphine walked across the clearing. She stopped at the edge of their fire. "Mind if I join you?"

Reidar gestured to an empty spot. "Go ahead."

Seraphine sat down, crossing her legs. She pulled a waterskin from her belt and took a long drink.

"Good work today," she said.

"You did well yourself," Reidar said.

"We all did." She capped the waterskin. "That’s what matters."

She was far younger than Reidar, and yet she was a competent leader and a skilled fighter.

<If it wasn’t for my trait, I would have been a nobody... I can’t compete with these monsters.>

Although Seraphine, Helga, and Aldric all had a trait, so it wasn’t exactly as Reidar thought. He was gifted too.

Lena finished her meat and tossed the stick into the fire. "I didn’t have the chance to ask you," she said, looking at Seraphine. "Are you from around here?"

"Close enough," Seraphine said. "My town wasn’t far from this valley. Before the apocalypse, anyway."

"Which town?" Reidar asked.

Seraphine looked at him. "Viggan’s Field."

"Viggan’s Field," Reidar repeated. He’d heard of it. It was a small town close to Loden before distances stretched to impossible widths. "That’s not far from Creamont."

"About 20 kilometers before the apocalypse," Seraphine said. "Now?" She shrugged. "Distance doesn’t mean what it used to. This valley didn’t exist before. It sits right between Loden and Viggan’s Field now."

Reidar listened. The geography had changed more than he’d thought. Loden was behind them. Viggan’s Field was ahead. And Creamont lay beyond that.

"I was home from college for the weekend when the apocalypse struck. My parents were out. The sky went dark, as you can remember, and the wind started screaming like nothing I’d ever heard. I ran to the basement. My parents had been obsessed with storms and hurricanes, so they built a basement shelter. Once I got there, it was like the world was being torn apart above my head. The entire house came down on top of that little reinforced box. I don’t even know how the hell it held."

She picked up a twig and poked at the embers. "It was hours before the noise stopped and I regained consciousness. When I pushed the door open, there was no door. Just a wall of rubble. I had to dig my way out with my hands."

She paused.

"The entire neighborhood was gone. Just a field of broken wood and twisted metal. The trees were different. The hills were different. I was the only thing moving for kilometers. I walked for two days before I found another person. A man, trapped under a car. He’d been there since the beginning. He told me about the System messages, but he thought he was hallucinating from the pain. He died before I could get him free."

Reidar thought of his own awakening in the gas station storage room. The corpses.

"How did you get so strong?" Jake asked, his eyes wide.

"I didn’t have a choice." She finally looked up from the flames, her eyes meeting Reidar’s.

"The first thing that found me was a Corrupted fox. It was fast. I was faster. I killed it with a piece of rebar. The System rewarded me. So I killed the next thing. And the next. I kept moving, kept fighting. I found other survivors, and we stuck together. We quickly learned that stopping meant dying."

Her story was different from the denials of George and the others. Seraphine had never had the luxury of disbelief. The world had forced its new rules upon her from the first moment, and she had adapted or died. It wasn’t like Frank or Linda weren’t in the same situation, but for some reason they didn’t react like her.

<Maybe it was because of her age. Being young helps in these situations.> He turned to Jake, observing him and hoping he would not turn into a madman.

It explained her competence.

"Did you go to Creamont after the apocalypse?" Lena asked.

Seraphine nodded. "My group is based there now. We moved into the city about five months ago, after Viggan’s Field became too dangerous."

"Too dangerous how?" Jake asked.

"Monsters," Seraphine said. "The smaller towns couldn’t hold out. Most of the people died, and the remaining population wasn’t large enough to form strong groups. We lost people every day. Eventually, we had to leave."

She paused; her eyes were distant. "Creamont was bigger. It was bound to have more survivors. Better walls. It seemed like the smart choice. We were right."

Reidar leaned forward. "Have you been there recently?"

"I left a week ago to come here," Seraphine said. "The quest notification reached me while I was still in the city. Luckily, our base was within the notification radius. I gathered my best fighters and headed out."

"What’s the situation there?" Reidar asked. His voice was calm, but his pulse quickened. "In Creamont?"

Seraphine met his gaze. "It’s complicated. There are multiple survivor groups. Some get along. Most don’t."

"How many groups?"

"At least four major ones," Seraphine said. "Smaller ones hiding in the outskirts. The largest is ours, the Spriggans. We control the western part of the city."

"And the others?"

"The War Hounds control the north. They’re the biggest threat." Her expression hardened. "That’s because they are a violent group, formed by prison escapees. They don’t negotiate. They don’t share resources. They take what they want."

Lena frowned. "Somehow this doesn’t surprise me."

Reidar nodded.

"It doesn’t surprise me either," Seraphine said. She paused. "There’s been open conflict between us for the past months. Skirmishes, mostly. They raid our supply lines. We hit their patrols. No large-scale battles yet, but it’s likely coming, especially because the smaller groups keep coming to us asking to stop them."

Reidar’s mind raced. <A war. In the middle of a monster apocalypse. Why are people so insane?>

But he knew survivors did desperate things in desperate times. Resources were scarce. Power meant survival. Groups would fight for both.

"This doesn’t explain why you came here." Reidar asked. "If there’s a war brewing, why leave?"

"Because we need an edge," Seraphine said. "The War Hounds are getting stronger. They’ve been recruiting from the smaller groups. Bribing them. Threatening them. We needed something to tip the balance."