-3 days prior-

  -Callia-

  “So how long have you worked for the pope?” On the way down to the granary reserves, I tried to strike up a conversation with the paladin who was leading the way, but he just met my questions with continued resolute silence.

  “Were you ordered to not talk, or is it some kind of rule while serving the pope? He gave me a really off-putting feeling. How long has that fossil of a person been pope?” Since the paladin wanted to play the stoic silent type for some reason, the mischievous side of me cultivated by years of pranks really wanted to get some response. However, the distant sound of something breaking up above makes me pause. I turn to look but stop, turning my attention back to the paladin as his silence finally cracks.

  “Speak poorly again of the pope and I’ll take your tongue for insolence.” His words are sharp, but I can’t help but wonder why the feeling I’m getting from the man is one of satisfaction mixed with hate. More importantly, it wasn’t hate directed at me, and it was me calling the pope a fossil that sparked the satisfaction. I couldn’t help but go silent at the strange contradiction in his remark. With the silence of earlier restored, I turned back to look for whatever caused the noise. Above the great light was a broken window with a paladin bending over, looking back down at us. Despite the odd occurrence, nothing else was apparent other than the paladin looking around, making me feel like I missed something important, but with no other leads, I set the issue aside. I turned my attention back to the paladin on the platform with me.

  “Since the big man upstairs is a no-go, how about something a little more fundamental? What level do I need to raise mana suppression to before I’m permitted into the paladins or permitted to return to my home?” The change in topic definitely seemed to put my companion at ease. So much so I actually got an answer.

  “I passed the assessment at level 49, but I’ve heard of some being denied even at level 74. When you’ve reached a level you're confident in, you can request an instructor to assess your progress once a year. How hard the assessment is depends on who your assessor is.”

  “Can you rank the common assessors from easiest to hardest in your opinion?” He hummed in thought, but the stoic silence from before was broken.

  “The easiest would likely be the dorm mothers, but many paladin aspirants have the High Priest assess; he is notably harder but not the hardest. The hardest is the occasional individuals marked to specifically be tested by the Pope. . .” The moment he mentioned the pope, his earlier discipline snapped back into place, and he snapped his jaw shut.

  I tried to get him talking again, but ‘once bitten, twice shy,’ the paladin wouldn’t answer even simple questions like what his name was. After a long and relatively boring trip, we finally arrived at the base of the tower. Without a word he marched off the platform, leading me into a heavily fortified tunnel. An unfamiliar black stone seemed to suck away the light of the torches, giving an ominous feel. At the end of the initial tunnel, a pair of guards in black armor stopped us for verification before having a squad of six move to accompany us deeper in. The nauseating stickiness seemed to cling to these guards and the walls of this place. If it weren’t for the visual cleanliness of the place, I would almost think this was some kind of slime-filled cave.

  I stop my arm as I instinctively try to brush off the imagined ooze. I can’t help but imagine the reason the Pope feels like moldy sticky slime is spending an extensive duration as a vault guard. Maybe it’s a security feature? Still, a security feature only noticeable with a tier 5 skill seemed a bit too niche to be intentional. I pushed those thoughts back as the leading vault guards pushed open a pair of large doors leading into one of the earlier chambers. Before stepping through, I glanced down the dark tunnel with other large doors in the dimly lit tunnel. I kind of wished one of them would take on the role of tour guide, explaining how other goods are also stored in the vaults beyond just food, but I could only speculate what else might be down here.

  In the room were large shelves with barrels upon barrels on shelves reaching about two stories high. The various types of food were sorted into columns that seemed to stretch into the darkness. I pat on one of the barrels, and the solid thump indicates the barrel is filled to the brim. However, the feeling of stickiness seems concentrated on the barrels themselves. I could almost feel the desperate possessiveness of some unknown entity that would rather lose fingers before giving up even a single grain.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “It seems a bit inconvenient to guard food in such an over-the-top manner?” I can’t help but feel the entire situation feels overblown for a food reserve. Not to mention just how unnerving the whole situation is. “I’m vaguely aware of how much was requested, but I never received a specific amount I am permitted to take. Did the pope inform you on how much?”

  The paladin shook his head.

  “I was informed you would be taking a vast amount from the reserves; however, no limit on the quantity was placed. I was also given instructions to have you registered with the vault guard for additional withdrawals. Looking back at the stacks of barrels, I can’t help but internally complain.

  “Callen is the one who knows logistics. How am I supposed to know how many barrels it takes to fill his request?” I pinch my forehead trying to math it out, but despite my best wishes for a simple figure like 1 million barrels to pop up, no figure does. Wait, a figure did pop up: 1 million barrels. Even if it was an exaggerated joke since I have no idea how much I need, I’ll just store that in the void. If it isn’t enough, at least I’ll have a better perspective on how much! If it’s too much, then I’ll have enough spare to avoid having to come back down to the vaults for a while!

  I carefully examine the closest shelf, quickly counting the one hundred barrels on it. Looking into the darkness of the room, I can’t help but wonder if there are 10,000 shelves to loot. Shaking the distraction aside, I get to work patting barrels and shifting them to the void. Barrel after barrel for what feels like forever in the gloomy atmosphere of the vault, I shift between storing barrels and resting to restore mana until we hit around ten thousand empty shelves. As I worked, I couldn’t help but feel like the vault was endless, but as I finished, the far wall was finally visible. Considering I just took at least 98%, I can’t help but wonder if I went wildly overkill. The stickiness in particular shifted from aggressive and possessive to despairing as I finished.

  “I grabbed a bit extra so I don’t need to come down here every day, but this should be enough.” My paladin guide didn’t feel like following me into the room, and the vault guards said nothing as they guided me back through the dark room towards the entry door. I can’t help but yawn as the paladin and other vault guards come back into sight. As I got close, the paladin resentfully muttered to himself.

  “Think you got enough?” Normally that would’ve invited a sarcastic response from me, but after spending who knows how long doing nothing but stocking grain in the void, I really didn’t have much energy left to banter. On the way out the vault guards direct me off to a side room and drop a small mountain of forms into my arms.

  “Each withdrawal of 100 barrels requires a separate requisition form filled out; return them by tomorrow, or you will be declared a thief and hunted.” The man's voice was hollow and unnatural. The hair on my back rose as my instincts screamed danger, but nothing imminently stood out. I could only stiffly nod and turn away to leave the vault, which now echoed hatred towards me. It wasn’t just whatever that thing guarding the vault was but the consciousness inhabiting the sticky aura that watched me carefully. Seeing the light at the end of the tunnel was just what I needed most. As we stepped out, a dozen paladins stepped off a platform landing next to us and quickly surrounded me.

  “By order of the pope, you are now under arrest.”

  “Really?” I can’t help but blurt out my complaint as the paladin team turns me around, pushing me back towards the vault.

  Port Town Overtime

  Reesia’s sword glowed as she cleaved through another predator. Ever since the elven invasion, monsters of all kinds seemed determined to test themselves against the town's walls. Luckily the influx of refugees from neighboring towns meant that there were more than plenty of hands to draw on to keep Port Town safe. However, Reesia felt she and her mentor, Sir Torulf, got the worst end of the deal. Normally stronger monsters seemed to know not to approach the town, and even a single knight on duty was enough to respond to any local issues. Now whatever had been deterring them seemed to have disappeared, creating a vacuum that required her to fight monsters that no one else in town was capable of dealing with. To make matters worse, Callen had run off and joined up with the royal army. Originally he was only supposed to pass on information, but when listening to her sister Nixie describe what happened, it became obvious that the queen couldn’t ignore Callen’s unique vital ability to counter them.

  Unfortunately that meant his request for her to get more sleep and stop pushing herself wouldn’t be a reality in the near future. The men following her grabbed the latest corpse among the many she had left in her wake to pull it back for harvesting. She moved ahead of them, stopping at the gate for inspection before collapsing back into her makeshift bunk in the gatehouse. She didn’t even bother to remove her gear, hoping to get a couple more minutes of sleep before the next monster attacked.

  The inspector enviously glanced at Reesia but lacked any steam to make his feelings known. He knew Reesia had been stretched thin fighting monsters, but the entire inspection team hadn’t had more than an hour's rest in the last three days as they desperately reviewed the condition of every refugee and all the locations the refugees had passed through. The man groaned in frustration as the team retrieving Reesia’s kill arrived. With bloodshot eyes and a foul mood, he got to work inspecting the men and monsters. With a determined if sour heart, he got to work. Ideally, with the emergency inspection of the entire town done, he would finally get his chance to rest soon.

  Ephesians 4:15 NIV - Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.