Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1) by Arthur Stone (top 5 books to read TXT) 📕

And I hadn’t a clue as to how to correct that.

Not just yet.

Chapter 10 Dead Man Walking

Degrees of Enlightenment: Unknown

Attributes: none

Skills: none

States: none

The convoy was led by two people: Kashik and Atami. The former managed everything not related to security while the latter handled only security. It wasn’t obvious which of the two was the other’s superior. So clear was the division of responsibilities between them that it might not have even mattered. They each saw to their own affairs, and didn’t get in each other’s way.

Kashik had a lousy reputation, and the people didn’t feel shy voicing their distaste for the men publicly. Still, if he gave an order, everyone obeyed.

So when I was informed that the man himself wanted to see me, I had no choice but to satisfy his wish.

Needless to say, I didn’t want to go. What the hell did he want with me all of a sudden? Rock was a world of strict hierarchies, in which anyone who rose higher than the level of a baseboard was almost obligated to spit on the heads of the scum floundering below. Kashik should have no business with a small fry like me. And even if there was something to say to a broken foundling, he should have passed the order down the chain of command—for his underlings to relay to me. Summoning me for an audience that would involve direct communication was a violation of unwritten hierarchical principles. A representative of the Three Axes deigning to entertain a worm like me suggested that something extraordinary was in play.

And considering how likely even ordinary developments were to snuff out my pitiful existence, I would do well to give a round berth to extraordinary ones.

Alas, when faced with a direct command from someone so highly above my station, I could hardly afford refusing it.

Kashik wouldn’t even look at me. The fact that he was speaking to me directly was honor enough.

He simply pointed to the river and said in a squeamish tone.

“There’s a sack of spices left in that wagon. Bring it here.”

So it wasn’t quite an order, but a suicide mission. But what was I supposed to say? That I didn’t feel like walking into a river teeming with kote? Or argue that, with my meager strength and stamina, I wouldn’t be able to carry my own body back and forth, let alone a full sack?

Kashik knew all this even without my saying it. I was a nobody to him. A weakling nobody knew or cared about, lucky to have been picked up on the side of the road. There was no one here to stand up for him, so he was free to do with me as he pleased. Here in the Wild Wood, getting injured or killed was par for the course. But spices were valuable cargo that needed to be salvaged. Or, at the very least, you needed to provide proof that you had done all you could to salvage it.

So why not try and solve the problem by risking the least important person in the caravan?

Refusal would not be accepted. I would either complete the task or die trying. And if I tried to object or wriggle out of it, I risked injury or death right here and now.

After quickly surmising the situation and assessing my limited options, I nodded my agreement.

“I will do my best to try and retrieve your spices, my lord. For that, I’m going to need the bloodied rags used to wrap the wounds inflicted by kote attacks. Please issue the order to supply me with several. The dirtier, the better. I’m also going to need a stalk of wild blueleaf and a knife. I shall return the knife before going out for the spices.”

Kashik couldn’t resist giving me a heavy askance look. Apparently, my calmness combined with the unusual request surprised him.

Not that it mattered—he wouldn’t be budging off his decision anytime soon.

I was still going to have to get into the river.

I didn’t know much about wagons. As such, I could only guess as to how that one had managed to get stuck where others had passed without issue. All I knew was that whenever a wagon would get stuck, the caravanners would push it up and forward to get it going again.

But in this case, the people were too busy fighting off the kote to push the wagon. All the while the coachman was probably whipping the crap out of the horse to keep moving, possibly causing the panicked animal to jerk hard enough to break the wooden joints connecting the axes to the wagon. Especially if the horse was turning to get back to the nearer shore instead of pushing forward to the farther one. That would be my guess, looking at the lopsided wagon half-buried in the river floor, the way it might stand on solid ground if it had only one wheelset remaining.

Some of the cargo had spilled out and either sunk underwater or gotten carried away by the current. Of the load that remained, however, Kashik had spotted something too valuable to leave behind.

Even if his own greed allowed it, he was beholden to his masters’ will—and they would demand that all efforts be made to salvage such precious cargo. After all, if he failed to deliver to the station something essential yet relatively inexpensive, the locals might be tempted to cover the shortage with higher-end substitutes, like those produced locally. That would be bad for business, and merchants greatly disliked things that were bad for business.

The process of developing one’s degrees of enlightenment, attributes and skills was a complex one. The surest, most reliable way to squeeze maximum value from it involved eating not randomly but sticking to a