Three?! How is that possible?

  Sorin’s mind whirled as he tried to come to terms with that. A monster on Floor 1 just did not have three soulprints, not ever. Their soulspaces weren’t like humans, but they still had limits. Three soulprints was pushing their maximum capacity, especially since monsters needed free space to shape their anima as they pleased.

  Even at the higher floors, finding three soulprints on a single monster was rare. There had to be some kind of story to this particular manticore, one that he hoped someone else on his team might know. Before that, he needed to harvest the manticore. The soulprints in its mane and tail spikes were no problem, but the heart was going to be difficult to remove.

  It’d be easy to pull it out whole, but then I’d have to take it for myself. I… should at least carve the heart out so the team can discuss what to do with it. Shit, I am way too tired to deal with this. What does it even do?

  He knelt next to the corpse to get a better feel for the soulprint’s structure. “General body reinforcement,” he muttered. “Power, coordination, speed. That’s… pretty good.”

  Shit. That’s a lot harder to resist than I thought it would be. Damn, now I’ve got to cut this thing out and haul it back just to make sure everyone’s okay with me claiming it.

  Footsteps crunched on the grass behind him. “’Got that fucker, huh?” Rue asked, her voice tight.

  “Barely,” he said. “I’m about out of anima, but this thing… Three soulprints, Rue.”

  “Three!” she yelped. He glanced up at her, specifically at her shoulder. The spike was gone, and she’d wrapped a strip of bandage to it. “Od cleared out the poison for me once he got Nemari stable,” she answered his unspoken question.

  Smart. Rue only needed a few seconds of attention to get back into the fight, and I might have needed her help. Good call, Odric.

  “How’s Nemari doing?”

  “Awake and pissed off,” Rue said. “Don’t change the subject. How does this thing have three soulprints? More importantly, what are they?”

  “I guess it’s just that old and powerful. The heart is probably the best of the three. It gives a general boost to physical capabilities—a solid all-arounder soulprint. I’d like that one if no one objects.”

  “I think you earned it,” Rue said dryly. “I was basically worthless. Nemari was worthless. Od spent the entire fight keeping her from dying, but I’m pretty sure he won’t fight your claim on it.”

  “That’s not how it works,” Sorin told her. “We’re not keeping individual tallies of who contributed the most to each fight. It’s about what’s best for the team. Your strength makes the team stronger, the same as mine. This soulprint would benefit me the most right now, but it’s also a fantastic foundation for any of the rest of you.”

  “Well, there are two others, right? What do those do?”

  “There’s a tuft of hair from the mane that gives an active ability to convert anima into temporary vitality. It’s the kind of thing that lets you keep fighting through bad wounds or exhaustion, but it has strong drawbacks when the ability ends. The last soulprint is one of the tail spikes. It lets you generate venom to inject into enemies like the manticore did.”

  “Holy shit,” Rue said. She glanced at the dead monster’s now-limp tail and shuddered. “One nick would put down damn near anything, at least long enough to finish it off.”

  Sorin shook his head. “The manticore’s venom was only that strong because it was a manticore. The soulprint was bolstering what it already had. The venom this ability makes will be significantly weaker. It will also only work with an unarmed strike that splits skin, or I suppose with a strike that hits an already-opened wound.”

  The enthusiasm fell off Rue’s face at his explanation. “That’s a lot less awesome once you explained it,” she said.

  “Yeah, it’s the one I’m least excited for,” Sorin said. “It could grow into something useful for someone who wants to fight without a weapon—your brother, for example—but it’s not going to sell very well since there aren’t many people interested in that kind of build.”

  He pulled out a knife and cut a loose string from his shirt. Then he wrapped the string around the tuft of the manticore’s mane with the soulprint and sliced it free. “Here,” he said, passing it to Rue. “That’s the vitality booster.”

  Cutting the tail spike out was just as easy, though Sorin was careful about handling it. The tip was a fine point, but even the sides had sharp ridges on them that could cut an unwary climber. They’d come with some containers to hold whatever soulprints they found that weren’t easy to transport, but those were all back in the packs right now.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Could you get me something to wrap this up in?” he asked Rue.

  “Sure. I think Od has a roll of leather in his bag for this kind of stuff.”

  Left alone with his thoughts, Sorin considered what he knew of manticore anatomy. Carving out an organ that had become a soulprint was a messy, delicate process. He had a good idea of where he needed to cut to reach it, but he’d never fought a manticore this small before, so he’d need to account for that when he got started.

  The first incision will go… here. Then another one here so I can pry the rib cage open.

  He dragged the knife across the dead manticore’s chest to make an X, but before he could do more than start to peel the skin back, Rue jogged back over with a square of leather. “Got it,” she said. “Oh, I don’t know if you can do that thing where you just absorb the soulprint without cutting it out of the corpse, but Nemari and Od both said you should just take it.”

  “They did?” he asked. Well, I kind of expected that. I guess it was just paranoia keeping me watching over the body. I’m sure there’s nothing on such a low floor that would have dragged it away if we left it unguarded before harvesting it.

  At Rue’s nod, Sorin wiped his knife on the manticore’s flank, then sheathed it and placed a hand on a patch of undamaged flesh near the heart. He focused on the anima pattern in the organ and drew it into his soulspace, a task that took only seconds to complete. Without needing to dive inside himself to see it, Sorin could feel its effects take hold.

  It pulled at his flagging anima reserves to flush his muscles with fresh energy and heightened his awareness of every part of his body. Ever since waking up on Floor 0 in his new, younger, form, Sorin’s biggest problem had been that his mind far outstripped his ability to move. This didn’t eliminate that problem, but it was a step in the right direction.

  “You okay?” Rue asked.

  No, not really. But it’s a start.

  “I’m fine. It just takes a bit to get used to, that’s all.” Sorin stood up and regarded the corpse. “No point in taking anything else. Manticore meat is toxic unless properly prepared, and I doubt anyone down here on Floor 1 has the skills to purify it. Besides, it’s too stringy even when it’s edible.”

  He’d only just gotten the soulprint, which he was almost certain was called Warrior’s Vigilance. It was easier to feel the exact structure now that it was inside his soulspace, and he’d know for sure once he got to actually go in there and check it out. It was E-ranked, which, considering the source, it ought to be. Venom Strike was technically E-ranked as well, but he still found that one less useful in its current form.

  They walked back to where Odric was still working on Nemari, though Sorin had to slow his pace for Rue. Despite her brave front, she still wasn’t at full strength. For that matter, neither was he. He stopped just once and frowned as he looked down at the ground.

  “What is it?” Rue asked.

  Sorin gestured toward the boot prints half hidden by the brush. “Maybe nothing.”

  “Oh, the other person. Do you think the manticore got them?”

  “No.”

  That monster showing up like that so soon after they’d narrowly escaped the warbler frogs—and encountered that mobile hive—was a bit too much bad luck for a single afternoon. The frogs were their fault, of that, he was sure. No one had guided them to that particular stretch of riverbank, and it would take someone at least ten or fifteen ranks higher than the floor to herd a group of monsters like that to a specific location unless they were a suicidal idiot. But everything else had come to them.

  Someone is trying to kill us. I’d say it’s the damn tower itself, but last I checked, towers don’t wear boots.

  "Then what happened to them?" Rue asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” Sorin said darkly. “You guys have any enemies I don’t know about? Odric piss someone off during one of his previous climbs?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Sorin grunted. “Must be one of mine then.”

  “You have enemies?”

  “Every climber who gets anywhere has enemies. It’s a cutthroat job. That’s why finding other climbers you can trust and holding onto those bonds is so important.”

  Rue was silent for a moment. “Is that what you’re doing with us? Forming those bonds early on?”

  Sorin ignored the question while he pried back a few branches to track the direction the footprints came from. Some ravines and gullies in that direction. Could make for a suitable manticore lair. This thing is probably famous if it’s been here long enough. Might be some useful supplies we could scavenge now that it’s empty.

  “I don’t know what our long-term is going to look like,” he answered as he stood back up and wiped his hands off on his pant legs. “I just know that if you go around fucking over every climber you meet, sooner or later one of them is going to put a knife in your back.”

  Sometimes it didn’t even take that much. More than one team had broken apart fighting over a powerful soulprint. Climbers had killed their partners, only to succumb to the tower itself when they couldn’t make it back to safety on their own. He knew. He’d found the corpses.

  “You know I don’t trust you, right?”

  “I know,” Sorin said. “Smart of you, really.”

  “You could kill all of us any time you wanted to.”

  “It’s generally considered impolite to say that part out loud.”

  Rue nodded. “But it’s stupid to pretend you couldn’t. We all know it. Whatever the hell happened to you, you’re not a real rank 1. Maybe the feel of your soulspace will fool strangers, but we’ve worked too closely these last few days. Even if I couldn’t sense your anima, I’d know you were too strong.”

  “Fool strangers,” Sorin muttered. He glanced sharply at the tracks again. No… It couldn’t be. Those incompetent idiots?

  It didn’t take a genius to lure a monster into another group of climbers, though. A bit of foot speed and knowing the lay of the land was enough to get the job done. “This manticore,” Sorin started. “Is it infamous in climber circles? A well-known threat? Established hunting grounds that veteran climbers know to avoid?”

  “I don’t know,” Rue said. “I guess I heard something about a manticore once. Od could tell you more.”

  She left the question unsaid. ‘Why don’t you know? You’re supposed to be an expert climber.’

  They found Nemari sitting propped up against a tree, her skin pale and her breathing shallow. Odric was next to her, looking every bit as drained as he slumped down on the ground. Despite that, he started to rise as soon as he saw the bloody gashes on Sorin’s arm.

  “Recover your anima, first,” Sorin said. “In the meantime, I have some questions.”