Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 119

Chapter 119

Archery would be a head-to-head test of skill, while “ladders” referred to the random assignment used earlier when deciding elder/younger positions.

Nataek thought hard. He’d lost the ladder draw last time and suffered the humiliation of becoming the “younger brother.” Luck wasn’t exactly on his side. But archery…

An item flashed through his mind: the Potion of the Archer. Of the two he’d taken to Uruk, he’d only drunk one. He hadn’t expected a day to come when he could use it like this.

He smiled to himself.

This has to be archery. Number 1, archery!

“I’ll take the archery contest.”

The instant he finished speaking, the slot marked 1 lit up. Beyond the scattering light, Medeus stood.

“Good. Then we’ll start in the quarters after I finish today’s drills.”

Just before sunset, Medeus returned and they began. The rule was simple: the first to drift off the center lost. Before Medeus arrived, Nataek downed the last potion without leaving a drop.

Call it underhanded if one must—there was no other choice. In an ancient world, one didn’t survive by weighing every move against a delicate conscience.

They kept shooting until the target looked like a hedgehog, and naturally, Nataek won. His conscience pricked—but winning still mattered.

“I knew your archery wasn’t bad, but not to this degree. You’ve got talent.”

“Well, maybe I do. I remember hearing my ancestors were quite versed in the bow.”

He felt a twinge of guilt for using the potion, but he also believed there was some DNA buff in play. Lifting his chin, he said,

“Now teach me.”

Brazen as ever, Nataek demanded his prize, and Medeus—surprisingly—accepted defeat without fuss. That’s how the late-night grappling in their quarters began.

Medeus corrected Nataek’s form with his own hands.

“When the opponent comes straight on, never rush. Slip your body like this—”

He demonstrated each motion one by one.

“Evade that way. If it comes from the other side, you respond accordingly.”

“Understood. Let’s begin.”

Nataek took his stance opposite Medeus.

Come on. I’ll try it exactly as you showed me.

But Medeus, who should have attacked first, hesitated. He clenched his fist, half-thrusting and pulling back, never striking more than a handspan—as if an invisible wall held him.

Finally, Nataek couldn’t stand it.

“Medeus, are you not actually willing to teach me?”

“…No.”

“Then why do you keep starting a move and stopping?”

Medeus sighed softly.

“If I happen to hit you—”

He trailed off, biting his lip.

Hah. How are you supposed to learn to fight without taking a hit?

“It’s fine. I’m not that petty. I begged you to teach me; did you think I wasn’t prepared for this much?”

When Nataek squared up again, Medeus began to punch—but the form was so half-hearted, like a child forced to run an errand, that it was absurd.

Are you teaching me or not?

Nataek thought for a moment and found a neat trick. Still in his stance, he said,

“If you won’t teach properly, I’ll go to the deputy commander. He seemed quite eager to teach me a few things.”

Not exactly a lie. The deputy had been positive when he saw Nataek practicing archery, and he did seem the type to find both interest and pride in teaching martial arts. Medeus’s brow furrowed at once.

“That won’t do.”

“It’s this won’t do, that won’t do—why make the promise, why accept the wager? If you dislike it, teach me properly. Or I’ll truly go to the deputy.”

Medeus’s gaze changed completely.

“Sigh…”

He exhaled, fixed his stance, and this time set himself for a real fight.

A moment later, his fist shot forward.

Vrrm—vrrm—

A heavy hum shuddered through the air, and Medeus’s movement slowed—no, everything around Nataek slowed, like a scene playing at reduced speed. From the first direction Medeus had mentioned, a circular ripple bloomed and contracted. This was the reaction one felt when a skill was first acquired.

Duck your head… now!

Nataek did exactly as taught, dipping and shifting. The instant he succeeded in the evade, Medeus moved at normal speed again. The second punch came, rippling now from the opposite lower side; Nataek slipped that one too.

Whoosh—!

The strike tore the air by his ribs. If that had connected, it would have hurt—badly.

Facing Medeus again at full speed, Nataek broke into a cold sweat. Medeus was clearly holding back, and still the instinctive pressure was immense. He threw once more—straight this time. The only way to avoid a fist flying at the bridge of his nose was to drop vertically. Nataek ducked—just as another ripple spread from Medeus’s abdomen.

Vrrm—vrrm—

So that’s the target.

Nataek drove an upward punch from below—

—and froze inches from Medeus’s stomach. Medeus, who had been about to block him, halted too. The world snapped back to normal around their awkwardly locked postures.

“…”

“…”

From the start, Medeus couldn’t bring himself to strike Nataek. And when it came to the decisive moment, Nataek couldn’t bring himself to lay a hand on Medeus either.

“Teresi. Do you truly have to learn this?”

“…Yes. I have to. But…”

But… my hand won’t move. I do need to learn… so what do I do?

After wrestling with it, Nataek clapped once.

“There’s a way!”

He fetched a long cord and some cloth, and a thick pillow to boot. He set the pillow against Medeus’s belly and tied it around him with the cord, wrapping his torso.

“Teresi. What are you doing?”

“Finding a compromise.”

That night, two fully grown men wrapped themselves in pillows and cloth in bizarre configurations and proceeded with their “sparring.” Until the deep hours, the quarters reverberated with thuds, bursts of laughter, and breathless panting.

For several nights, the noises from their quarters never ceased. Groans, gasps, even the sounds of things breaking. Passing attendants gossiped that the two must be fighting.

One day, as the layers of misunderstanding piled up, news came at last: the diviner and the lord of Umma had entered Kish. Samuagon summoned the nobles immediately. When Nataek and Medeus arrived at Agade, the nobles, long since assembled, held their chins high with smug faces. Everyone knew why the timid, indecisive lord of Umma had come. Samuagon looked out over the gathering and said,

“The timing is fine indeed. On the very day the lord of Delam shows his heart to Kish, the lord of Umma arrives as well. Today must surely be a day when Inanna’s light blooms.”

No one knew Umma’s affairs better than Samuagon, and he looked downright pleased.

He’s in a very good mood… Could it be that Smenaphis’s team is coming from Delam in person?

Nataek turned over the recent news in his mind. Word had come from Delam three days ago. As he was arranging a rendezvous in Kish with the diviner, he received a note from Smenaphis’s team. Once Uruk fell, they had sent greetings to Samuagon and announced their intent to visit Kish as soon as they confirmed Medeus was safe.

But Nataek couldn’t be purely glad about Delam visiting now.

Of all times, Delam comes now… This wasn’t in the plan. It had better not sour the storyline to come.

Delam had already put him through the wringer—The Great Flood, the ordeal of obtaining the Potion of the Archer, and even the crisis in the Uruk conquest when Agadis returned earlier than expected from Delam.

And now, of all days, on the very day of parley with Umma—Delam might meddle again. No wonder he was on edge.

He clenched a fist. Medeus, watching, spoke gently.

“Teresi. Don’t worry too much. Nothing should go awry.”

Medeus thought he was merely concerned about unforeseen mishaps.

That’s not it…

But there was no need to unload every anxiety. Nataek only nodded.

Time passed. After a few more words with the nobles, a servant cried out:

“The lord of Umma has arrived.”

“Let them enter.”

Creak—

Agade’s great doors opened. Between them appeared the hunched shoulders of the lord of Umma—and the diviner.

Long time no see! Great to see you!

The diviner didn’t bother to hide his delighted face as he looked at Nataek. Startled, Nataek shot him a sharp warning with his eyes. Samuagon, quick to sense the odd current between them, raised an eyebrow.

Hey—We’re staging a prophet act together here. If you act like you know me, what are you doing, you blundering fool!