Chapter 71. Brawl
"–uck!" Valiant's curse hung in the air, cut short as his tiny jaw dropped open.
Adom smiled down at the stunned mouse beastkin. There was something oddly satisfying about watching someone's entire worldview shift in real-time. The way Valiant's whiskers froze mid-twitch, how his eyes widened to perfect circles.
Careful, he told himself. This kind of ego trip would put him on par with Helios, and the thought of developing an ego that massive made him shudder internally. Best to nip that satisfaction in the bud.
He grunted, shaking off the feeling. "So, are you going to lead the way or not?"
Valiant blinked rapidly, as if rebooting his tiny brain. "How? Just... how? You're not using magic! You're actually that strong? Did you do another one of your transmutation thingys? Can you do that to me?" His words tumbled out in an excited squeak. "Give me electrical powers! I've always wanted to shoot lightning from my paws!"
"Electrical powers?" Adom raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah! Imagine me, but with electricity!" Valiant's whiskers vibrated with excitement as he mimed shooting lightning bolts. "ZAP! ZAP! No one would mess with an electrified mouse! I'd be the terror of the Undertow!"
"A rodent like creature with electrical powers. That's... oddly specific."
"I've given it a lot of thought," Valiant admitted, climbing onto the table to be more at eye level.
He still wasn't.
"Think about it—small, quick, and packing a thunderous punch! I'd be legendary!"
"No one would ever see you coming," Adom deadpanned.
"Exactly!"
"Except everyone would see you coming because you'd be shooting lightning everywhere."
"Details, details." Valiant waved a paw dismissively. "So can you do it or not?"
"No, I can't give you electrical powers," Adom said flatly.
"Why not? You did something to yourself, clearly."
"It's complicated."
"I can handle complicated!"
"It involves alchemical formulations—" That was true.
"I'm listening."
"—ancient forgotten runes—" That was partially true.
"Keep going."
"—and a very specific type of dungeon core manipulation that took years to perfect." A blatant lie that made no sense whatsoever.
Valiant deflated slightly. "Oh."
"Also, you'd probably explode."
"I'd what now?"
"Your body mass is too small to contain that kind of power without extensive preparation," Adom improvised, fighting to keep a straight face. "The energy discharge would likely launch you through the roof."
Valiant opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Would I at least get one good zap in before exploding?"
"Valiant."
"Right, right." The mouse beastkin hopped down from the table. "But seriously, what did you do to yourself? I've never seen a human your age lift something that heavy without magic."
Adom crossed his arms. "Can we focus? I need you to take me to these gangs so I can challenge them. I have other things to do tonight."
"Other things? You just volunteered to fight three of the most dangerous champions in the Undertow, and you're acting like it's an errand you need to squeeze in before dinner!"
"Is that a problem?"
"It's bizarre! Normal people don't—" Valiant threw up his paws. "You know what? Fine. You want to fight monsters and killers using whatever freakish strength you've given yourself? Be my guest."
"Great. So which one first?"
Valiant stared at him for a long moment. "You're really serious about this."
"I wouldn't have offered otherwise."
The mouse beastkin sighed, his tiny shoulders slumping in resignation. "The Broken Fangs meet at the old fighting pit near the docks. The Nightshades gather in what used to be the Silk Market before it burned down three years ago. The Red Hooks..." He hesitated. "They're the worst of the bunch. Their territory is the old slaughterhouse district."
"Appropriate."
"Terrifying is what it is." Valiant shuddered. "Are you sure about this? You could end up dead. Or worse."
Adom tilted his head. "What's worse than dead?"
"You ever seen what an ogre does with the hearts he doesn't eat?"
"Can't say that I have." He'd seen worse.
"Let's keep it that way." Valiant grabbed a small coat from a hook near the door. "I'll take you to the Broken Fangs first. They're the most straightforward—accept the challenge, fight, win or die. Simple."
"Simple is good."
Valiant paused at the door, looking back at Adom with an expression that might have been concern if it wasn't buried under layers of exasperation.
"Just... try not to die, okay? Finding semi-reliable humans is hard enough without them getting themselves killed on a random night in the Undertow."
Adom nodded, gesturing for Zuni to hop onto his shoulder. "I'll do my best."
"That's what worries me," Valiant muttered, pushing open the door.
The streets of the Dregs grew darker as Adom and Valiant made their way toward the docks. Oil lamps flickered in windows. Hunched figures huddled around dice games in doorways. A woman argued with a drunk outside a tavern. Somewhere, a baby cried. Two skinny children darted between buildings, clutching something that might have been bread. Everyone moved with purpose—even those who were just standing still, watching with cautious eyes as strangers passed through their territory.
Zuni chirped softly on Adom's shoulder, his quills occasionally rising and falling as they passed particularly suspicious alleys.
"So these three gangs that took your networks," Adom asked, "they're major players in the Undertow?"
Valiant snorted. "Major? Hardly. They're just slightly bigger operations than mine—opportunists who saw weakness after the Children fell. The real power players wouldn't bother with my small networks. We're talking about neighborhood-level stuff here, not the kind of organizations that control entire districts."
"So we're not exactly overthrowing the Undertow's hierarchy tonight." Adom was a bit disapointed.
"No, just reclaiming my modest slice of it. But for me, that's everything."
"I see." Adom stopped suddenly, halfway down a narrow street lined with crooked buildings.