Chapter 60

Nic dug back to his original tunnel network and dropped down onto the smoothed, tar-covered ground, checking the nearest warding talisman to make sure nobody had broken in while he was away. The talisman was still intact and whole, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Planning for the worst possible luck was one thing. Actually encountering it…

Nic found that when things went wrong, your plans had a way of not mattering one bit.

“Sofia? Any last information you can give me about Dungeon bosses?”

“Very little. But… You’ve accomplished all the tasks the Dungeon has set forth. That should give you significant advantages. A Dungeon boss is often some creature from the conquered world’s mythology or legends. Whether it originally existed is beside the point. The System will create a champion if need be, pulling the consciousness from an old monster of cultivation who’s original body is beginning to fade. They receive a new life, and the System receives a useful servant.”

“So the boss will have the mind of an ancient cultivator? That sounds… worrying…”

“Yes. In fact, I’d say the most dangerous factor of a dungeon boss is the mind inside. Their advantages in power can be accounted for simply by outgrowing them and bringing allies, while the boss is trapped in a stationary location, unable to grow or gather forces… But a cunning enemy is one that can pull out victories from what should be an impossible situation.”

“Any chance of striking a bargain? Do they even have a way out of being the System’s captive?” No matter how afraid of death you were, Nic couldn’t see how being trapped in a single place, waiting to be killed, was much better. Not unless there was a chance of escaping…

“Unlikely. Their ‘way out’ is to kill. If they can kill one hundred challengers before the System’s sight, they are freed to wander the greater Dungeon. Usually that means a destructive rampage, ending when they’re brought down or have established total control over the domain.”

Nic grimaced. It wasn’t that he was a pacifist. He just hated fighting for other people’s reasons, and for the System’s reasons most of all.

But if he wanted to get stronger, there was no other way. His newly reforged cultivation was one step forward on the road. He was confident in winning another duel with the musician now…

But the musician had always been the weakest of them.

If Nic wanted to face off against the mysterious pygmy, he needed to race forward even farther and faster. Defeating this Dungeon and claiming the rewards was the quickest path he could take.

So he’d grit his teeth and play the game, once again.

“Thanks, Sofia.”

---

As Nic approached the cavern he’d carved for the princess, he heard voices. Instantly on alert, Nic drew Peacemaker and pressed himself to the walls, creeping forward slowly.

But as he inched closer he recognized the voices.

Stepping out, Nic saw Li Blackleaf’s ghost swirling in the cavern, a specter of ash and smoke.

And strangely, the princess was smiling and laughing.

From the old ghost’s hands, smoke emerged in the shape of birds that flew around the cavern. Black roses grew from ash, and butterflies of fire sprang up to land on their petals.

“Showing off, old man?” Nic announced his presence as he stepped into the cavern.

Li chuckled, letting the illusions dissolve. “Cheering up our runaway princess. The poor young miss. Left alone in the dark here…” He clicked his ashen tongue.

The princess smiled, wiping a tear away from her eye. Nic knew the feeling. Sometimes, even a moment of happiness became cause for grief, because you felt the guilt of being happy in such dark times.

“Your friend…” She said. “Has been very kindly telling me stories from his homeland. I wasn’t aware… I didn’t realize how far the heavens extended.”

Nic smiled gently, swinging Peacemaker over his shoulder. “Honestly, if there’s one thing I’ve learned? No matter how big you think the world is, it’s bigger than that still…” He shook his head. “And if I need a reason to live, it’s to see as much of it as I can, while I can.”

“Wise.” Blackleaf agreed. “But while you’re dispensing wisdom, know this. I made my way here without triggering any of your amateurish snares. If I can do that, and find this place, it’s only a matter of time until that assassin creeps his way in as well.”

“Where have you been?” Nic asked. “Learn anything interesting?”

“Oh yes. I’ve been following those demons at a distance, learning all I can. You’re right to fear them. The assassin is a dandy and a fool, but he’s no slouch at cultivation. His path is insidious and clever. As for the short, hunchbacked one, even more dangerous. In fact…”

Blackleaf drifted around Nic in a swirl of smoke, and whispered.

“I believe he carries a fragment of the Ghost-Toll Legion’s patriarch within him. It’s a very old technique, and very rare, but aging hegemons will sometimes implant a shard of their power into promising pupils…”

Nic nodded slowly. He’d already been cautious of the pygmy– now he’d be doubly so.

“You’re right. It’s high time we move. Hiding here bought us some time, and we needed it. But now it’s time to make our own moves.” He reached into his bag and took out the miniaturized ship.

“Enefta. Blackleaf. Inskpur.” The wyvern shot out of his tattoo as Nic spoke the names. “All three of you need to work together. I’m going to draw the enemy’s attention. I want you to go up to the river above and sail to the Hall of the Dead. If all goes well, I’m planning to meet you there.”

“And if all doesn’t go well?” The princess Enefta asked. Nic suspected she already knew.

He just shrugged. “If I don’t show up, well, there’s still Winterhome. Blackleaf will lead you there. And you won’t need to worry about me, one way or the other…”

The princess shook her head. “No. I’m not leaving my home. I’m not abandoning what Sarhelia and the rest fought for…”

“They fought for you.” Nic said resolutely.

“Indeed. Young miss, consider what made home so dear in your heart. It was the people. And you made home dear to them. The world is built of people, and as long as the people survive…” An ashen hand laid itself on her shoulder, reassuring. “A new home can be built.”

For a moment, Nic was taken aback. Old Blackleaf was a schemer and a bastard but all the same…

Nic didn’t doubt there was something real to this gentle show. A man who had lost his beloved son when a reincarnator’s soul had infected the child like a parasite. Who had built an empire, and grown strong trying to protect it, but lost everything in the end…

Nic could accept viciousness, if it came with a reason. Every animal became vicious defending its territory.

That was nature.

“V-very well…” The princess said, with a shaky sigh. “But we have to return home to my village. I have to see if there are survivors…”

Nic nodded, and pressed the ship into her hand.

“I’ll give you time to do it.” He promised.

“But- but I should be AT YOUR SIDE!” Inkspur protested. “How else will you make your DARING ESCAPE when the time is right?”

“Well I can fly now so…” Nic began, but was instantly cut off.

“You can FLY? Without ME? But- but that means…”

“Relax, relax. Not nearly as fast as you, I’m sure.” Nic hastily added, stroking the ridges of the wyvern’s scaly skull to soothe him. “I’ll still need you, I know that. But right now I need you with them, scouting ahead, making sure they don’t get into trouble…”

“I should be HELPING YOU!” Inkspur whined. “They’re unimportant, YOU are the young master…”

“I’m the one who can survive on his own. And I will survive, and come back to you.” Nic insisted gently.

“Fine.” Inkspurs long, barbed tail swept about like a frustrated cat’s. “I will KEEP THESE LESSER BEINGS safe, while you HOG ALL THE GLORY…”

“Attaboy. What would all the ‘lesser beings’ do without you, huh?” Nic said, scratching Inkspur under the chin and silently rolling his eyes where only Enefta and Blackleaf could see. Sometimes, this little dragon was such a complainer.

But there was nobody Nic would trust more to defend the princess.

---

Nic climbed up onto the open expanse of the desert and took out the arm he’d taken from Levanth. Eight dimming Aleph marks sat on the skin of the severed limb.

With a sigh he set himself down in the lotus position and let his aura flow into the marks. One by one, they lifted up and hovered in the air, aligning themselves with the many ashen runes already carved into his skin by that first nuclear flame.

They shot down, affixing themselves like brands to Nic’s flesh. Three of them attached instantly, while the rest hovered about like fireflies, unable to form a connection. These were the duplicates, runes that Nic had already found in the wastes.

But Nic wasn’t the only one collecting their power.

Bringing out Peacemaker, he stabbed it into the sand and let the glaive absorb the spare runes, drinking them down with a bone-rattling roar of satisfaction.

Nic was beginning to glow…

A pillar of light leapt upwards into the sky, pulsing three times, signaling to all the desert that he had completed not one but three of the Aleph sets.

First Antares, now Fomalhaut and Regulus.

As he felt the runes connecting with the heart of his cultivation, a wind blew through the desert. Somewhere out there, Nic knew that his enemies were bearing down towards him. Seoona was on her way. So were the musician, the pygmy, even the creatures of the desert. He was shining like a jewel in the sands, waiting to be plucked up…

And he would be ready.

The wind curled, and there was a shining portal of light. Out of it stepped the Dialectal, the System’s servant, a four-limbed creature made of silver armor with two conjoined masks for a face.

“Ahhh. Nicolas Winterhome, again.”

“We know each other. You can call me Nic.”

“I will not, but I thank you for the offer.” Slight amusement made the creature’s metal lips twitch. It was a gesture made ugly by the hideous length of its fused mouth. “It is a pleasure to see an apt student still alive.”

“So glad my existence makes you happy.”

“Ah, impudence. Impudence is either the sign of a great cultivator or one soon to die. So far, you have yet to suffer death, and so my conclusion is clear. Now. Do you wish to spar verbally, or to learn.”

Nic settled his gaze into a steady, forward expression, clearing his mind. “You said before that Regulus improved the body. What does Fomalhaut do?”

“You yourself have helped me understand this. Antares consumes matter into pure Essence. Fomalhaut infuses that Essence with powerfully violent quasi-demonic qualities, what you call ‘nuclear flame’. Regulus absorbs this tainted energy to radically mutate and strengthen the body, but at the cost of malmutations and malformations growing within…”

“Normally, using Regulus on oneself would be suicide. You would grow arms inside your lungs and tumors of glass in your heart, but…”

“Altogether they form a cycle, with the ruling runes, Aldebaran, providing control and efficiency. Fomalhaut is the generator, converting Essence. It feeds off the power provided by Antares, which consumes the malmutations that Regulus creates, leaving only the beneficial adaptations…”

“You yourself helped me understand this, by unlocking the use of Antares. So I will do my best to instruct you and allow you to make use of these gifts, before your enemies arrive.”

Nic looked out into the desert. In the distance, he could see the sails of Seoona’s ships approaching.

“Well.” He said. “It’s a good thing I’m a fast learner.”