Floor 1

Grantis - Town of Beginnings

When I entered into the outskirts of Grantis I was greeted by more than a few stares. From out of nowhere had come this unknown elf from a place that most people avoided, save for the most desperate, due to the harshness of the wilds. The confusion that had overwhelmed me on my awakening had for the most faded and my mind worked hard at not only the future plans but also what had occurred.

At one point in the past Lute had told me of her abilities, a dizzying list which contained what sounded like the impossible. Though she could only use most of the scarier skills after a good deal of time there was one that she mentioned that had leapt to the forefront of my thoughts. Reincarnation.

If I could remember correctly it was while Luticia and I had spent a small time crushing Architects on floor eighty-three that she had told me of it. In truth it was a power that she refused to use for fear the Architects themselves might one day learn of it and break free from shackles she had given them.

"Elf!" barked out an angry voice from my side. "What are you doing outside of the pens?"

For a few steps I ignored the voice, still unaccustomed to my own racial change I didn't even think I was the target of the shout. All around murmurs from the strangers that I had no interest in began to flow, some angry and others curious in nature, with a singular word the most commonly heard. Elf. It was blatantly obvious who they spoke of, even to someone as distracted as myself.

I paused for a moment to look at the originator of the shout, an older man so thin that I doubted he had properly fed in years. His thin face was dotted with a scruffy beard while the top of his head barely had any hair at all. With a dismissive wave of my hand I turned and continued on my way.

My hands tightened into fists, the babble an unneeded aggravation that I knew I couldn't stop. It would not only be a waste of energy silencing them, but it would only cause more of a problem in the long run. Instead I focused on walking, ignoring the jeers and cries of disgust.

Before long I arrived at a type of large and open plaza without even a central fountain. The filthy look of the slums had given way to simplistic architecture, houses that were little more than boxes. The dirt ground had shifted to gravel, and the gravel had begun to turn to a flagstone. A minimal amount of shops were scattered around the plaza, each one offering next to nothing of interest to me.

With my left hand I shielded my eyes from the blistering sun which hung above, while I casually surveyed the area. None of the shops were familiar, the lettering used similar to what I had learned in my past life. A slight change in the angle on some of the lettering was the only real change I could pick out. Even the words that people spoke were very similar to the past, a much needed blessing since it meant I didn't need to learn yet another language.

To the right of me a large noise started up, as people were ordered to move out of the way by a boisterous fellow. A group of six men walked along with dark blue clothes on their bodies, one of them held a club that was easily the size of my entire body. The rest had large looking knives with crude handles crafted from either rock or flint. The one in the lead had the only metal out of them all, a knife of iron unsheathed and attached to his belt like the rest.

"Hoo, I told you there was an Elf out of the pens!" declared a thin looking fellow with dark eyes, brown hair and a gaunt face. He grinned as he pointed in my direction, while his other hand rested on the handle of his cheap looking knife.

"Indeed you did," the man in the lead glared in my direction. There was no hostile movement, though the air about him vibrated with a promise of pain. It was the eyes that caught my attention most, the eyes of a man who had no qualms with murdering anyone.

With as little noise as possible I let out a long rush of air, while my pinky fingers wiggled. I clenched them individually before moving on the next set of fingers, then the next and after that the next. The thumbs wiggled, clenched and then separated properly. While nobody could see it the toes on my feet began the ritual as well, a careful check through of muscle control.

I had hoped to have time in order to practice my new body, but as always life would never be the easy path that I sought. So far I had figured out the basics, so once more I would need to entrust in myself and instead face my dilemma without a shred of fear. If this group of fools wanted a fight then so be it.

Careful to not reveal any of my inner feelings I put a smile on my face, waving to the group. "Good day, sirs, may I help you in some fashion?"

The six stopped outside of arms range, not even interested in surrounding me but instead clustered about the central man. "An Elf with manners, well well that's a rarity," scoffed out the man in the front. He gave the slightest of shrugs. "Simply put I want to know why the hell you're not in the pens. It's not night yet."

Once more someone mentioned the pens, something that didn't exist in my time. At some point the social position of the Elves had changed from vanguard and scouts to mere slaves, and not even proper slaves but worms kept in the dark. "I'm sorry, I'm on my way back there but I got lost and could use direction," I replied to the man, hoping to at the very least evade a fight.

The wiry little fellow from before snickered in my direction as he pulled out his knife. He brandished it in the most threatening way he could imagine, which was in no way at all. "Mid-day and you're not in the pens already? No way you got lost you little dog, so we should just drag you off and use you as our own."

"Calm down," the leader commented to his friend, one hand lifted toward him in caution. He looked at me again, this time letting his distaste show in his eyes. "As my friend said it's long past when you should've been in the pens, and yet here you are. Explain well enough and I might help you get back to your cage."

For a moment I studied the group in front of me. The man on the far left was well built, he had a long dagger crafted from flint. It should have been capable of cutting skin but I doubt it could go too deep. His clothes were primarily leather, with cotton or some other comparable material used for his shirt and pants. The hairstyle was short cut, red in color with green eyes. He had freckles, while his skin was well tanned from continual exterior activities. He had a stance that screamed novice, his body leaned too much forward in a show of pointless aggression.

The second man was the thin, wiry little bastard. His only weapon was the openly visible knife while his clothes were far worse than the first. Filth littered the front of his smock, as though he hoped to salvage leftovers at a later point from it. When he spoke his teeth were visible, they looked rotten and numerous gaps showed he had lost many already.

The third man was the large muscled oaf with the huge club weapon. The design was odd, a very long handle coupled with a long cylinder of rock. The overall weight had to be staggering, enough that the speed when swung would be low. The muscles in his legs were bunched, but he had them flexed almost permanently due to the excessive weight.

Man number four had long black hair that he let fly free, he wore a visor on his face which helped keep out the sunlight. One dagger rested on each side of his hip, while on his right forearm the handle of what I could only guess was a third dagger could barely be seen.

The fifth was probably second in command, he stood close to the leader and a pair of glasses adorned his face. He had blue eyes and brown hair, a well kept beard without a mustache. The weapon he had belted looked to be a type of short sword made of stone. Most of his clothing had been taken well care of and his overall stance was one of confidence.

"Since when are Elves banned from walking in Grantis during the day?" I asked, as the smile on my face vanished. There was no tensing of my muscles, there was no preparation, if anything my overall stance screamed defenseless and inept.

The leader almost swore at that, hand tightening around the handle of his sword. "You know it's been that way for hundreds of years!" the man declared. "Now explain yourself or we'll beat you and sell you!"

"You mean you can try to," I commented, a cocky grin my response to his anger.

It was the rat-faced man who chose to attack first, his wiry ugly body leapt in with wild swings of the knife. The pitiful attacks of an idiot who had no combat training worth speaking of, most likely he was used to beating helpless Elves. The reaction from me was entirely different than what he had anticipated, instead of quivering in fright I lunged into the attacks.

Right arm lifted up, my fingers latched onto the wrist that was in turn connected to the hand holding the knife. A twist of the hand, downward wrench and a scream came from Ratman, the knife lost immediately. Before he could pull away my left hand snapped out, my weight and body shifted forward and a palm strike smashed into the rotten jaw.

Down the thin man went, while with a whirl I bent and picked up the knife he had lost. Upon returning to face the remaining five their aggressive stances had changed into defensive ones, the ease with which I had dispatched their friend most likely on repeat in their minds.

With a flourish I spun the knife in my left hand, while with the right I beckoned to them. "You seem to be a bit bad at beating up Elves."

Number One and Number Five decided to test their luck, approaching in from my respective sides with drawn daggers. The single dagger on the left was a far less threat than the right, so when Five attempted to stab my arm I spun, pivoting on my right heel even as I started to crouch. If my teacher had seen me he would've clapped, a picture perfect sweep struck in against the side of Five's shin, which caused him to lose his balance and fall down.

Thug Number One attempted to capitalize on the distraction generated by Five, yet I responded to that by casually flicking the cheap knife at him. There was no need for me to hold onto that crude weapon. He batted it away instinctively and realized far too late he should've simply dodged it instead, as I lunged in and drove an elbow into his stomach.

When hit by the elbow the fool couldn't stop his body from reacting to it, his spine bowed and all the air gushed out from his lungs even as pain contorted his face. My arm reached up to wrap around the exposed neck, and with a shift of weight and some of my lithe muscle One was sent tumbling right into Five and his exposed blades. The result was a bit bloody, and hopefully enough of a problem that neither would bother me again.

It was no surprise that One had dropped his dagger onto the ground after being hit so hard in the stomach, and so it became my own weapon. As I stood up and watched the two on the ground try to recover the heavy footsteps and a loud grunt warned me of the next assault. The only potential move I could think of was to fall backward, tumbling back away from what I expected was a dangerous attack. With a quick shove of my free hand against the ground I did a handspring that gave me both more distance and brought me back to my feet.. "Well now, that was a bit close wasn't it?" I asked of my opponents.

The man with the giant club weapon had swung and almost taken my head off, if not for how loud he was it would've been a certain kill. Most likely with a few years of proper training he could probably become a very lethal opponent, but for now he was too rough around the edges. "I'll take him out, Karn, I promise!" the man bellowed as he started to walk toward me.

It was the sharp whistle that came from the leader which stopped the behemoth of a man. All of the men, including those who were battered and wanted nothing more than to get revenge, stopped what they were doing and looked at him. With a slight laugh he stepped forward a few feet, hands clapping together as though he'd enjoyed a good show.

"Very good, Elf, very very good," he said. I could only assume he was Karn, though without confirmation from the others that wasn't a certainty. "I haven't seen a fighter like you in a long while, at least not in Grantis."

My long white hair tumbled forward as I nodded in affirmation. Only a fool dropped their guard entirely, so my body was still taut and ready. The dagger I had acquired held at the ready in my left hand. Around the plaza spectators had gathered, some had even clapped during the midst of the fight. The sound of coins being exchanged could be heard as bets were made, most likely on whether or not Karn and his goons would kill me.

"I don't know who the hell you are but I'd prefer if you'd leave our territory," Karn said after a long period of silence. "We won't bother with you anymore if you get out of here."

"I will leave if you honestly answer me one question," was my response. "Where might I find the portal?"

Karn stared at me, mouth half-opened as he attempted to wrestle with the mere thought of the question. All I could assume was that since the Elves were slaves of such a strong degree that most never went through the portal anymore. To me that was an oddity, I had met many an Elf in the past and found them to be useful for a multitude of reasons.

"Where the hell...fine. You can find it if you head that way for about three blocks, then hang a left," Karn said as he gestured off to my right.

Carefully I started to sidestep toward the right, my eyes locked on those six men in front. My pointy ears twitched as I listened to everyone nearby, my hearing far greater than it had been in the past. It was an advantage that I would have to learn how to properly utilize, and based on my current plans I would need to do so quickly.

When I felt the going was safe I turned and focused my hearing behind me, listening for any signs that the thugs had decided they actually wanted to attack me. Murmurs of disappointment abounded in the crowd that had gathered near the plaza, but I ignored all of that and instead tried to prepare for the near future mentally.

☗ ☗ ☗ ☗ ☗

The sound of people whispering filled the streets as I walked through Grantis in the direction of the portal. Armed with the dagger I had stolen during the scuffle I continually twirled and played with it in my left hand, getting a feel for the balance of the poor weapon. There would be a need to upgrade as soon as I could to something better, preferably bypassing the iron tier of equipment if possible.

During the course of the fight I had already begun to notice one of the key differences in my body change. While I felt light and agile there had been less strength behind my attacks than I had anticipated. Even the weight of the flint dagger was more than what I expected, a strength so weak that I barely reached a single percent of my previous abilities.

I had achieved the level of a Godslayer, so it was understandable that a fresh new body would be so poor in comparison. I was also almost excited by the changes since it meant I could try out a different approach to fighting, relying more on quick attacks and acrobatics rather than pure brute force. In the end though that would depend on how the climb through the labyrinth went, and what I had to face off against.

The place that the portal was at was a wide open park, one which no longer flourished. Dried out bushes tried desperately to grow alongside dead fountains that had cracked and fallen apart. The ground itself was littered with refuse, garbage left by inhabitants and most likely people passing through. Time had not treated Grantis well, and yet people still managed to find a way to flourish and live on. The portal itself hung in the air, a sphere of milky white that had ripples which ran up and down it.

I walked up to it and casually touched the exterior, while people who had noticed my casual stroll through town watched on. To them an Elf in daytime was probably a rarity, and there I was not only armed but also touching the portal. The only way to use a portal was to will it, and so with my eyes closed I began to form the image of a door in front of me. With my right hand I reached out and opened the door, then pushed it wide open and revealed the other side.

The temperature shifted to a more temperate one, the breeze picked up a fair margin, while the smell of grass filled my nostrils. It was a scent most welcome after the stench of Grantis. When my eyes opened I was located in the middle of a vast plain with undulating hills, a few trees dotted here and there.

A chirping noise sounded from somewhere in the distance, followed by a few more which continually came closer to my position. Across the ground there were large holes which might remind one of a burrow for a rabbit. My grip tightened on the dagger in my left hand while the grass rustled, the inhabitants had come out to say hello. The lips on my face twitched, then curved into a grim smile. My attempt to reach my dead wife had properly begun.

Floor 2

The Feeding Grounds