It was a tired and silent group that left the tower. No one wanted to stay at the landmark, not when it was so easy to pick out. Determining that safety lay in the deep wilds, the group packed everything they could find, stripping the bodies of the tong members and their own friends with equal ruthlessness before leaving.
As one of the least injured, Arthur led the way. He kept an eye out for the monsters, not surprised to find that he had to dispatch a kuching within a half-dozen steps into the forest, and then a hanging green snake waiting for their inattention. Removing them with the spear he had retrieved, Arthur kept a wary watch in the dim light cast by lanterns the women carried.
The group moved slow; Mel’s nearly insensate body helped along by the injured Uswah. The pair moved like a three-legged, drunken pirate, weaving back and forth with each step as they aided one another. Jan brought up the rear, being the only other member of the group who was actually able to fight.
It took them nearly an hour before they managed to make a good few hundred meters from the tower. As though the group had crossed an invisible boundary, a loud rumbling behind caused them to turn around wearily.
Through the gaps in the treeline, the group watched as the moonlit tower crumbled, crashing to the ground in a resounding, calamitous heap. A dust cloud billowed in the air, rising high in the sky and clouding the moon.
“Eh, kenapa?” Uswah said, startled.
“No idea,” Arthur replied. “Though, if I had to guess . . .” He trailed off, eliciting a growl from Jan to finish his thought. “It’s done, isn’t it? The quest. So no need for the tower.”
“It’s like . . . this Tower is alive,” Jan said, a hint of fear in her voice.
“Alive, programmed, organically constructed and varied . . .” Arthur said and then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much, does it? The Tower isn’t talking, and it sure isn’t walking. Its owners are silent, and that’s just brilliant.” Then, he sighed and dropped the rampant bad rhyming. “All we can do is climb it and survive.”
“Survive . . .” Mel repeated.
The group hesitated, staring at the woman and wondering if she was going to say anything further. When the poisoned, delirious woman stayed silent, the group let out a long sigh.
“How is she?” Arthur said after a moment.
“Sick.” Uswah shook her head. “I can’t fix her, that’s not how my techniques work. But I think she’ll be fine. Given enough time, the Yin poison will eventually break down.”
“Then let’s move.” There was no point in further conversation, so Arthur waved the group onward. If anyone was around to spot the tower, they were definitely headed toward it now. Out of curiosity if nothing else.
The group trundled on for another hour, until they finally came across a clearing. Noticing how even Jan was swaying, Arthur knew they had to stop. The group had to take multiple breaks over the last hour just to make their way across a short distance.
He waved the team to rest after he made a preliminary circuit of the clearing, then pulled out the tents and set them up. He only set up two though, eschewing privacy for safety.
“You taking first watch, ah?” Jan said, hesitantly. She was swaying on her feet as it was, but too stubborn to accept the fact that she was more tired than Arthur.
“No.” Arthur reached into the pouch by his side, pulling out a trio of yellow talismans. He waved them around, before wandering towards a tree near the opening of the clearing. He slapped the first one on it, then checking himself over, plucked at a dried scab until fresh blood welled out. Wiping the blood on the talisman, he watched as it glowed to life before repeating the task at two other corners of a rough triangle.
“From where?” Jan said.
“Samseng,” Arthur replied. Then, not caring to say anything further, he walked right into a tent, pulled out his bedroll and rolled it out before flopping onto it. Dirt, grime, and blood or not, he was too exhausted to care about cleaning beforehand.
Even if it was going to leave a mess when he woke.
Eyes drifting closed, Arthur felt a body roll up against him. Warm flesh and a snoring noise briefly interrupted the inexorable pull toward sleep. He cracked his eyes open, just long enough to realise that it was Uswah curled up against him, drool already rolling down one side of her mouth, then his eyes shut.
Resting, finally.
***
Waking up the next morning was a stifling experience. Not just because of the woman who had rolled over onto him, but also because of the warmth of the tent and the encompassing stink of dried blood, guts, and sweat mixed together with unwashed bodies in close proximity. Uswah was barely moving, so Arthur struggled free and fought the sluggishness of his own Yin Body to pry the zipper open and emerge into the morning sun.
Finding himself alone in the clearing, Arthur picked up his bag and spear, and proceeded to a nearby stream to deal with the mess caked all over his body. After checking both up- and down-river for potential threats, he stripped down to his underwear and began the process of washing himself, wincing as the cold water hit inflamed flesh.
Catching sight of himself in the water, he could not help but stop for a moment to note the difference that time on the first level had made in him. Scars, obviously, but also his body had grown more muscular and leaner, the minor amounts of fat having burned off.
A part of him worried about that for a moment, knowing that fat was what gave one strength, energy. How ironic that people wanted to rid themselves of fat. When they looked their best, they might in fact be at their weakest . . . Arthur shook off thoughts of the world outside. What did it matter now?
He was not exactly human anymore. He no longer ate, not real food at least. Though he longed for a good char kway teow or some satay. Crispy, fatty satay with peanut sauce and crunchy raw onions and cucumbers on the side.
His food, his sustenance, was the energy of the Tower now. The beast cores he carried and the energy that surrounded him. Feeling within, he winced as he realized exactly how low he was in his dantian reserves for both. The entire fight had drained him, as had the running of his body through the night…
Dismissing the scars, the new wounds, and the chiselled body from his mind, Arthur finished washing up and set aside the bar of soap. After dressing quickly in a cleaner set of clothes, he beat his old clothing as best he could, scrubbing out what dirt and blood would come out before wrapping it all together in a wet bundle and making his way back to the camp.
To find that none of the others had woken yet.
Letting out a huffing breath, Arthur placed his clothing to dry before digging into the dirt in the middle of the clearing, well away from the two tents. Soon enough, he had a makeshift campfire within a ring of small stones to help contain the flames.
Piling dry leaves, small twigs, and discarded fluff, he set the entire thing alight, knowing that for the time being they were protected by the talismans. A part of him ached for the comfort of warmth and flames, for a chance to sit and soak in the false protection of the ring of fire.
So he did.
While waiting for the teepee of wood he had built to catch and burn properly, he sat cross-legged, spear by his side, and began the process of cultivating Tower energy. No point in waiting for the others to wake. And while he wished to review the seal on his hand in more detail, survival came first.
Which meant energy for his gifts and to heal his wounds. Even now, his body throbbed and ached, and he could tell that a portion of his lower back had opened, soaking his shirt in blood once more. Still, he needed to replenish those energy stores, at least by a few points.
Then he could refine some healing energy from the beast cores and fix himself. After that . . . well, after that, the Thorned Lotuses would be awake. And wouldn’t that be a talk.