Masterdrike — Chapter 8: The Artifact
CHAPTER 8: The Artifact
Hello, my son. I’m glad to hear you are well. I had heard the news about the fall of another one of my students; I’m relieved to know that in your case it was false, and I’ll assume you prefer that it remain a secret. As for me, I’m well—better than ever. And as I once said, I will always help you when you need it. The address and contact are: Mapi Coast, lagoon town, the terracotta fish shop. Orselok is the one you’re looking for. I hope this new path goes well for you. Remember to say you come on my behalf, and bring some money. See you soon.
Fernigan Cloh
“Mapi Coast, then. I’ve never heard that name before. Have you been there?”
“No, never. But I know it exists. Fernigan has businesses there. Though as far as I know, he only uses them to launder money, and they’re practically bankrupt.”
Stand looked at him with interest.
“Do you know how to get there?”
“It’s not that complicated. I’d have to go land, sea, land, sea, and land again.”
Stand studied him with curiosity.
“Maybe I could help.”
Then he changed the subject.
“Why don’t you tell me more about this Fernigan? He sounds… kind.”
Kick raised an eyebrow.
“You really want to know who he is?”
Stand insisted, clearly intrigued.
Kick began to describe him, his tone a strange mixture of resentment and reluctant admiration.
“He’s a very strong man. Elite physical condition, even though he’s somewhere between forty-five and fifty—though he doesn’t look it. He likes to talk, and he can be charismatic. But don’t let the friendly act fool you. He’s a sociopath. Manipulative, egocentric, a liar with no values or morals beyond whatever benefits him. He’ll always put himself first, and he won’t hesitate to betray you or abandon you.”
Stand stared at the letter for a moment, then looked at Kick.
“Is what you’re saying really true? Because the letter gives a very different impression. And if it is true… why create an academy? Why train inexperienced people and give them comforts?”
Kick answered with sarcasm.
“Academy? You mean the clan? Oh sure… the best place in the world.”
His expression said everything. Total disgust, despite the fact that he had once admitted they treated him well.
Stand noticed Kick growing uneasy. Reading the letter had affected him more than he wanted to admit.
“Why train them? It doesn’t make sense,” Stand insisted.
Kick looked at him bitterly, thinking: This guy is stubborn.
“That’s what anyone would say. But on the very first day, during the ‘welcome,’ he made each of us steal about a hundred euros as our first lesson. And at the end he said: ‘Honestly, I only train you because someone as great as me should leave a legacy. Besides, it’s good to change things up. I can’t spend every day in bed with prostitutes, can I?’”
Stand chuckled.
“He sounds like someone I know.”
“Don’t you dare compare us. He’s a bastard. And not like me—worse!”
Stand raised a hand peacefully.
“Friend, relax. I won’t ask more. Alright?”
Kick sighed, his expression softening.
“It’s not that… it’s just… nothing.”
Stand nodded, understanding it was better not to insist.
“I’m going to sleep. I’m tired of so many meetings. See you.”
Kick decided to sleep on the couch.
7 a.m.
Everyone woke up as usual and ate together. Silence settled over the dining room. After finishing his meal without saying a word, Kick slowly headed toward his room.
Stand noticed the dark circles under his eyes—they seemed to have returned.
“Friend, are you alright? I didn’t mean to upset you, but you can’t keep going like this.”
Kick looked at him. That look alone was enough.
Sadness flooded the room.
Kick sat down on the couch. Stand approached.
Kick spoke in a dull voice, as if he lacked the energy to form more than a couple of sentences.
“In my life I’ve had a few moments of happiness… joy… peace. If I had to divide them, one would be my childhood, and the other my time in the clan. Not just because I enjoyed getting stronger and learning—it was exciting—but because I met her during a mission…”
Stand lowered his gaze to the floor and took a breath.
“What did Fernigan do to you?”
“He just… didn’t support me when it mattered. Two days after she died, I was in class as usual, and he was babbling about how to deceive people effectively. I stood up and said I was leaving—that I wasn’t coming back. Two others did the same: Santiago and Deco. I went to collect my things. As I was leaving, Fernigan told me:
‘I told you this could happen. I recommend you stay.’
“I refused. I just wanted to leave.
“Then he said:
‘There’s nothing to be done. You’ll suffer alone. That’s all that’s left for you—a miserable life.’
“He turned around and walked away. It’s stupid, really… that out of all the terrible things he’s said and done, the only thing I remember whenever I hear his name is that: ‘There’s nothing to be done. You’ll suffer alone.’”
Kick paused, staring into nothing.
“Once, during a clan party, I invited her. She was beautiful. Simple. Perfect. She almost never went out. She belonged to a royal family, so I took the opportunity. That was when she met Fernigan. In the middle of the conversation, she said something to him:
‘He won’t suffer alone anymore. We have each other.’”
Stand stayed silent, unsure what to say.
Kick continued, his eyes distant.
“Well… I guess there was one time he really did keep me from dying. It was during a mission for a man named Clement…”
Three Years Earlier — Mount Pico Seco
The mission was strange. All they had to do was explore the western zone of District Six, deep in the mountains.
No one wanted the mission—the climb was brutal and the cold unbearable. But the pay was around one hundred thousand.
Fernigan chose someone at random.
That someone was Kick.
They brought the best coats and equipment they could. They climbed for hours through Mount Pico Seco, a place infamous for its freezing temperatures and its proximity to the endless western mountain chain.
At last they reached the summit.
But there was more above them: a sheer cliff hidden in thick mist.
Looking down, all they could see was an ocean of pale, icy fog. The storming cold swallowed the sunlight.
Fernigan decided they would continue.
Kick protested.
“How? It’s impossible. There’s no more mountain.”
“That’s what you think,” Fernigan replied calmly. “At this height, you follow the inclines ahead.”
With a swift motion, Fernigan released a current of wind that cleared the sky. The fog vanished, revealing the terrifying height of their position.
Before Kick could speak again, Fernigan unleashed an extraordinary ice technique, forming a frozen bridge that connected to a towering stone pillar stretching upward toward infinity.
“There you go. We keep climbing. Don’t worry—it’ll hold.”
They crossed.
Fernigan created platforms of ice as they climbed higher and higher until they reached the pillar’s summit.
“This is just a tiny part of what’s out here,” Fernigan said. “If we fall, we die.”
They advanced into a blizzard.
The snow blinded them. With every step the journey grew harder.
Kick’s legs went numb. His lips turned purple. He trembled uncontrollably.
Fernigan, however, walked as if nothing were happening.
“Use energy to coat your body,” he explained. “It works as insulation. You can also channel cold energy to increase resistance.”
They pushed through the deep snow until they reached a massive crack dividing the land in two.
Fernigan pointed across.
“That’s what we’re looking for.”
Kick asked hopefully:
“Is there really a crashed plane here? I hope that’s it.”
Fernigan created another ice bridge—twenty or thirty meters long.
The sheer display of power stunned Kick. An attack like that could kill anyone, he thought.
They crossed.
Then suddenly—
“Down!” Fernigan shouted.
He dropped flat.
Kick was too slow.
A gigantic albino bird snatched him and carried him twenty meters into the air before dropping him.
Its metallic claws lunged to finish him—
A thunderbolt struck it.
Fernigan.
Kick fell, but Fernigan caught him, set him down, and rushed to fight the bird.
Kick hid behind a massive rock.
At that moment a colossal monster, seven or eight meters tall, emerged and struck him, launching him across the snow.
Barely able to move, Kick watched it approach like a savage gorilla.
He used fire to distract it, ran, and found an abandoned camp.
There was an axe.
He grabbed it and fled into a narrow ice cave.
For a moment, he believed he was safe.
Then the monster smashed the cave apart and grabbed him like a toy.
Kick hurled the axe into its head.
The creature roared, unleashing wild ice energy as it staggered in agony.
Still gripping Kick, it carried him to a nest and threw him violently to the ground.
Around him lay bodies.
Knights in unfamiliar armor.
Others not yet fully decomposed.
One of them held an artifact.
Kick crawled toward it and took it.
The monster returned, dragging the dying body of a giant albino wolf.
Kick was terrified. He had faced large creatures before—but this was beyond him.
He tried to run.
Collapsed.
Certain he would be devoured—
A spark flashed in the distance.
Then a sphere of fire appeared.
A small sun.
The surrounding snow evaporated instantly.
The blast struck the monster’s head—
And obliterated it.
Entrails scattered everywhere.
Kick looked up, covered in gore.
Fernigan stood there, apologizing.
“The bird almost escaped. Hey kid, you alright? Let’s go. I didn’t see anything interesting.”
Kick left without hesitation.
On the way down, Kick asked:
“What were those creatures? Why did they have powers?”
Fernigan answered with his usual air of superiority.
“My dear student, you’ve just seen one extreme of this world’s nature. Just as there are people like us—humans with an affinity for energy—there are animals and beasts with the same trait. Add centuries of adaptation to extreme environments… and this is the result.”
Kick listened carefully as they descended.
Eventually they reached a populated area.
Fernigan asked:
“Did you enjoy the experience?”
“Honestly? No,” Kick replied.
“Neither did I. I saw nothing interesting.”
Kick took a mechanical piece from his pocket—the remnant of the artifact.
Fernigan snatched it instantly.
“Well, would you look at that,” he said, eyes gleaming. “This changes everything. See these inscriptions?”
“Yes. What do they mean?”
“It means money.”
Back to the Present
Stand stared at Kick with shining eyes.
“What happened after that?”
“Nothing much,” Kick said calmly. “I delivered the artifact to the client, though I demanded more money first. In the end he charged a million… and instead of giving me the ten percent we agreed on, he only gave me fifteen thousand. The only good part was that he gave fifteen thousand to everyone in the clan.”
Stand covered his mouth, muttering something unintelligible.
“What’s wrong? What are you saying?”
“A-art… armo… Clement!” he whispered.
“You said something?” Kick asked, frowning in total confusion. “I can’t understand you.”
Stand leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
“Clement… I know who he is! And I know about a strange scientific article he published: ‘Life Beyond Masterdrike.’”
He smiled.
“That’s what I need. My next step… is to investigate the lost nation.”
—"