All The Skills - A Deckbuilding LitRPG

Book 2: Chapter 11: Library Heist - (1)

Arthur jogged another track around the lower hive tunnels. This earned him a few looks from the stuffiest of the hive attendants and more than a few raised eyebrows from the nobles still hanging around, but he hardly cared.

His running skill was at level 9, and he wanted to see what happened once he crossed the level 10 threshold.

It turned out that taking the many, many staircases down from nearly the top of the hive at a quick pace had been challenging enough to quickly level that skill.

And, as with his Master of Skills card, this new Body Enhancement skill came with additional knowledge. It was odd. Arthur had been running all of his life. But now he simply knew — without being able to put a finger on it — how to run better. Every step was more perfectly extended, he was more sure-footed, and his breathing came smoother than it ever had before.

And he had a feeling about reaching level ten.

But he was also a man on a mission. He wasn’t simply running for the pure sake of running (though it was more fun than it had ever been before). No, he had taken this time to think about what Valentina had said — and carefully not said. More importantly, he had taken this time to plan.

Grinning to himself, he increased his speed, jinking right and left through some sharp tunnels. A young orange dragon stood just around the bend, squealed as he came rushing around, and extended its wings in automatic defense.

Somehow Arthur managed to step to the side and slide right past it without losing his footing.

“Sorry!” he called over his shoulder.

The dragon threw a disgruntled grumble back at him, but Arthur was already well down the tunnel.

New Skill Level Gained - Running: Level 10Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novelenglish.net . ꜰɪre.nᴇt

For reaching this threshold on a body-enhancing skill, you have gained a 5% bonus to all stamina while running. In addition, gain a 10% speed bonus for the first fifteen seconds while sprinting.

“Yes!” Arthur leaped and punched the air in success. Several people milling around looked at him oddly, but he didn’t care.

He was starting to love his new Legendary Card. It was very much like his Master of Skills card, but subtly different in the effects on skills.

He couldn’t wait to see what else he could do with it.

However, that would have to wait. Now that he had stopped, he realized that his jaunt around the hive had left him sweating. His clothes were rumpled, and he probably stank like sweat.

It was not proper for “Ernest Kane” to be seen in public in such a state. It was unacceptable to see Cressida like this.

Still grinning to himself, he headed to his small room to bathe and get changed.

Feeling fresh, Arthur started his next plan of action in the traditional way: With a bribe.

A few coins in the hands of the right hive attendants got him pointed to Cressida’s rooms.

Rooms, plural.

Arthur knocked on the dark polished wooden door and was greeted by a man wearing her house colors of gray and white. He took a long moment to look Arthur up and down. By the sneer on his lip, he thought Arthur was no better than something scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

“Can I… help you?”

Thankfully, his Gentleperson’s Charm kicked in. “Ernest Kane, to see Cressida— “

“Do you have an appointment?”

That stopped him short. “Appointment?”

“Yes, the noble lady’s time is valuable. She cannot simply stop her business for every suiter that comes along.”

“Oh, I… uh…” Whatever charm Arthur thought he had melted away. He knew he was flushing red, and by the gleam in the man’s eye, he was enjoying Arthur’s discomfort. “It’s not—I’m not—Cressida!” He called in relief, seeing her walk up from behind her attendant.

“He’s fine, Karles,” Cressida said. “Ernest Kane is a friend.”

The man sniffed but backed out of the door and bowed him in.

Cressida’s formal greeting room was larger than the one Arthur currently stayed in. It also had giant windows to let in the light, several pieces of furniture for sitting and eating, and a collection of musical instruments tucked into one corner. It was every bit as richly appointed as the Hive Leader’s rooms up top. He had no idea these types of rooms existed on the lower levels of the hive.

Cressida watched him with a worried expression. “What’s wrong, Ernest? Has something happened to…” she glanced at Karles who hovered nearby in case he was ordered to fetch a drink. “To… the dragon?”

That snapped him to the present. He glanced at Karles, too. “Can we speak alone?”

“Unchaperoned?” Karles said. “I think not!”

Arthur was getting tired of this guy’s attitude and opened his mouth to tell him so. Cressida got there first.

“I haven’t been properly chaperoned this entire trip, Karles, and we both know why. Please, do give us some privacy.”

The man’s lip curled, but he bowed stiffly and walked to one of the side rooms. Arthur had no illusion that he wouldn’t be listening at the door.

He stepped close and kept his voice low. “How much do you want to link with the pink dragon?”

“That’s a stupid question,” Cressida said. “You know I’ve searched high and low for an appropriate card—"

“No,” Arthur said more forcefully. “How much do you want it, Cressida, really? Enough to take risks. Enough to possibly bring shame to your family?”

Cressida’s fingers twitched and for a moment he wondered if she was about to summon one of her flame bears. “What exactly are you asking?”

“I have an idea, but it’s risky and if we’re caught, well… it’ll mean time in the dragon soil pits.” Valentina had given her tacit permission, but Arthur doubted she would stick her neck out for either of them if things went wrong. “And that’s aside from the family shame. Oh, and I can’t guarantee this will work.”

“You aren’t selling me on this,” Cressida said, though her upper lip was ticking as if she was trying to keep down a smile.

“It gets worse,” Arthur admitted.

“Worse than shame and failure?”

With a grave nod, Arthur reached into his Storage Space and pulled out one of the items he had procured earlier today while jogging everywhere.

It was a labor worker’s uniform — drab and utterly shapeless. “You’ll have to wear this.”

Cressida looked a little ill. Then she steeled herself. With a visible shake, she looked Arthur in the eye. “What is this plan of yours?”

Arthur was feeling mighty pleased with himself. It had been a simple matter to obtain a hand-pulled rental cart along with a few boxes of produce for authenticity. He wore a standard worker’s uniform, too. Unlike Cressida’s, his was fit to size… which made sense, considering it was his clothing.

Not that she needed to know that.

“You’re scowling too much,” he said to her.

The noble lady, who had been pinching her drab, heavy fabric shirt simply scowled some more. Her hair was tucked under a worker’s cap and her face was washed free of makeup… well, she certainly didn’t look plain, but she also looked less like herself. She also looked very unhappy.

“Why shouldn’t I be scowling?” she asked. “I’m apparently a common worker doing… worker things. Why would I be happy?”

“Because if you did actually work for a living, this would be just another day in your life?” Arthur suggested. “Look, it’s a relatively warm evening, not a cloud in the sky. It’ll be dark soon so if we were delivery folk, this would be our last run for the day.”

She rolled her eyes, but her expression lightened. “Do you think this will work?”

“I can get us in the scholar’s guild,” Arthur promised. “You said you know your way inside?”

“Well enough.”

“Then we have a chance,” Arthur said. And because he was in a good mood (it wasn’t every day he got to see a real noble in worker’s clothing) he added, “And if we get caught… well, I’m certain the dragon soil pits aren’t that bad.”

In answer, she flicked a bit of bear-shaped flame at him. It fizzled out well before reaching his skin.

Arthur chuckled but fell silent as he concentrated on pulling the cart. He half wondered if he was going to receive some sort of ‘hauling produce’ skill, but another question plagued his mind.

“So, your man-servant…”

She glanced at him. “Yes?”

“He mentioned a chaperone, and you said you haven’t needed one? Uh…” Arthur had started out strong, but he faltered as Cressida looked at him. Why was it so hard to talk to girls sometimes? “What was that about?” he finished in a rush.

Again, Cressida rolled her eyes. “My father either expected me to link the Rare dragon or come home engaged. But that’s hardly shocking — I’m sure most of us were under a similar edict.”

Arthur looked away. “Of course.”

“Then again, few have family willing to give us a Legendary to try for the other egg…” Cressida said, and although Arthur wasn’t looking her way, he could feel her gaze on him. “That is extraordinary, if I might say, for a baron’s son.”

To this Arthur could only shrug. Frustration, fear, and more than a little guilt was a noxious mixture inside him. His cover story was paper-thin, despite all the help the Acting class could give him.

Cressida didn’t press the issue and they made the rest of the short trip in silence.

The scholar’s guild would have been considered a huge structure… if it wasn’t literally in the shadow of the giant Hive behind it. Still, for a human-made building, it was quite large. Four stories tall at the four-point spires that reached to the sky. According to Cressida, there were four more levels downward.

As they were supposedly delivering produce, they made their way to a servant’s entrance on the shadowed side: an alleyway that never seemed to get any sun as it was coated with moss.

Since, of course, this delivery wasn’t expected, Arthur had timed it deliberately an hour before dinner. That was when the kitchens would be the busiest, and the staff would be harried and not likely to ask questions… or keep a close eye on Arthur and Cressida.

At least, that was the plan, right up until the moment the kitchen door opened.

Arthur looked up at the familiar face and felt his heart sink.

The man who’d answered the door had the exact opposite reaction. His face split into a wide smile. “Arthur!” he bellowed and clapped one ham hand heavily on the shoulder, just as he used to do when Arthur had been a twelve-year-old brat. “It’s been years, m’boy!”

“Hi Barlow,” Arthur said, trying not to grimace.