Chapter 685 (1/2)

Randidly winced and raised his hand to his chest as he walked through the illuminated streets of Hastam. Was it heartburn? To think that since he gave the recipe to Claptrap all that time ago, burgers would already become this ubiquitous…

Either way, the pain quickly passed, so Randidly paid it no mind. It did, however, remind him of Claptrap. His face fell into a scowl. At a corner of a busy street, Randidly paused and looked up at the sky. It was overcast and gloomy, but below there were dozens of people on the cobblestone streets laughing gaily.

Inwardly, Randidly felt himself smoldering. These fucking idiots.

But he set that thought aside for now and continued onward. He had asked the owner of the burger joint, and the old man and directed him to the Scroll Spire if he wanted to research the stories of the Spearman.

Just the way that the man phrased that made Randidly somewhat leery of what he would find when he got there.

What he actually found was that the doors were large and wooden and moved easily under his hand. After a bit of hesitation, he entered into the tall tower-like building. As the door shut behind him, the noise seemed to cease entirely. Instead, Randidly simply found himself engulfed in the oppressive silence of a library.

For that was what it was, but not one the like of which Randidly had ever seen. The entrance to the library brought Randidly onto a strange wooden catwalk that hung above the true portion of the library. About ten meters below was a dark and misty place filled with pillars. But as Randidly peered at the pillars, his eyes widened.

...were they truly just piling scrolls down there?!?

“Visitors are rare. You have business here?”

Randidly twisted his gaze away from the scrolls below and to a young man sitting at a desk in the center of the wide room. The catwalks were in the shape of a cross, and there was a staging area with ladders in the center. As for the young man, the first thought that struck Randidly as he looked at him was how skinny the man was. He was so incredibly emaciated that it seemed he must never take a meal.

But the intensity of the young man’s gaze was on a level that Randidly had rarely encountered before. Perhaps this young man was not strong in a traditional sense, but he was not one to underestimate. Besides, Randidly couldn't’ help but notice that despite his wispy frame, his limbs were overly long. His arm was practically draped across the desk.

“Yes. I’m here to research the history of the Spearman and the Hall of Stances,” Randidly said. Being honest was perhaps a risk, but Randidly couldn’t really find any disadvantage with being up front. He did, however, add the Hall of Stances as a method of sidetracking the man if what he asked transgressed on any social norms.

He had inquired with Skarch and Azriel about it, and they didn’t indicate there was anything to worry about. But that just made him more worried. After all, those two were unusual.

“Ah. Proceed.” The young man instantly relaxed and waved his hand towards the ladders.

Randidly paused and looked at the piles of scrolls below. “Uh… is it possible for you to point me in the direction of the scrolls regarding the topics I’m researching?”

“Ah?” The young man appeared shocked. He looked at Randidly for a long time before shrugging. “I suppose so. Follow me.”

Bemused, Randidly allowed himself to be led down amongst the scrolls.

*****

“What does it mean to be a hero?”

Silo let his words hang in the air. He was sitting in the living room of rundown farm in the area North of the Hallat river. No one answered his question.

After all, how could they? The squatters that had been staying here were now dead.

Blood dripped off of Silo’s hands, but it was hard to consider it important. Everything was difficult these days. His images were inconsistent and shallow, his thinking muddled, even his vision was blurry most of the time. Still, none of that made much of a difference to Silo. It was hard to worry about such minor things when he finally had what he had searched so long for.

Power.

‘I wanted to be a hero so badly,’ Silo thought to himself as he considered the body in front of him. The back of the man’s head had been smashed inwards, and when that hadn’t stopped the man from screaming someone had ripped out his eyes and tongue. The twisted and swollen face seemed almost humorous as it looked up at him. ‘But now that I can me… I don’t know what to do.’